OK, twenty points to whomever can tell me what happened to my template and how to fix it. Please explain it clearly, as if you're talking to someone as net-stupid as me.
Thank you.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
On Bad Decisions in TV
Why in the world would Sci Fi viewers want to watch wrestling five nights a week - in place of popular shows that get cancelled?
Why would modern single-camera sitcoms need a fucking laugh track? Seriously! Who would actually film Jeffery Tambor and John Lithgow with one camera, direct them to hold for laughs as if there's a live audience, and then digitally add the laughs later? Why, God, Why?
Why would modern single-camera sitcoms need a fucking laugh track? Seriously! Who would actually film Jeffery Tambor and John Lithgow with one camera, direct them to hold for laughs as if there's a live audience, and then digitally add the laughs later? Why, God, Why?
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
On Church and State
Amanda made a good comment and I feel I need to clarify some things from my last post ("On Faith-Based Discrimination").
Although my post focused mostly on the rights of employees at religious institutions, it was intended to deal aslo, perhaps even more so, with tax and other financial issues.
The separation of church and state is fundamental to our particular republic. Although initially it was installed to protect worshipers, it seems to protect those who choose not to worship just as much. Aside from a few extremists, I think most Americans agree that government has no business in religion and religion has no business in government. That having been said, I think that sometimes the faithful and the non-faithful use the doctrine as a device to change our laws.
As far as the First Amendment is concerned, the People (our government) recognize the valuable service churches and other ministries provide to a community. As the first American municipalities were growing, it became obvious that the church needed some help making ends meet. While operating solely on contributions, the church was trying to keep houses of worship open and running while simultaneously providing care for the poor, the hungry, the sick and the homeless. Tax exemption developed out of this need. Lawyers tended to work gratis; hospitals provided free care to clergy; many special conditions were set up to help churches and religious institutions continue providing their services.
In the 21st century, these laws, rules and exceptions remain. But here's the rub: in many cases these exceptions are being given to large, national, mutli-facted businesses and industries simply because the name on the owner's document is that of a church. Hospital chains, bookstore chains, nursing chains, publishers, funeral home chains, etc. There are churches which own a few or more of all of these services and businesses. But, while many of these businesses work on a for-profit basis, they remain under the non-profit, ministerial exception.
Here's my concern: Is the spirit of tax exemption and ministerial exception being bastardized to give unfair advantages to companies with holy names? Was the intention really meant to cover a theme park in Florida ("The Holy Land Experience")? Was it really there to help bookstores sell more Bibles, CDs, DVDs, and Precious Moments figurines (Bereans)? Was it meant to underwrite a powerful publisher which brings in over $100 million a year (Word)? Was it meant to be an umbrella to cover political action groups and lobbyists (The Christian Coalition, The Moral Majority)? Many of these institutions, while stemming initially from a single church's cadre of services have become massive, national money-makers - not to mention carrying large influence throughout the country. What is it that makes them deserve the advantage of no sales tax, no property tax and exceptions to basic civil and labor laws? That it's all in the name of God?
Even churches are, in my opinion, pushing the envelope. While the majority of chruches across America remain smaller in size and sphere of influence, there is a growing number of mega-churches springing up all over. These are massive complexes which include multiple auditoriums, gymnasiums, schools, bookstores, gift shops, coffee bars, recording studios, video editing suites and more. These are congregations that number in the thousands and even the tens of thousands. They employ a small army of bookkeepers, custodians, secretaries, ministers, musicians, artists, social-workers, etc. The largest bunch actually have multi-million dollar annual budgets. And their campuses are the size of small colleges or army bases. When does their provision stop being a community service and become a standard business service like doctors, lawyers and such? Why should Cedar Creek be able to buy their coffee tax-free while Starbucks has to add the cost? Is the coffee sold at the church really broadening the congregation's spiritual growth?
These are hard questions and the line will not be easily drawn. Nonethless, I believe it's our responsibility to manage our society carefully so these questions must be asked. The next time you hear Jars of Clay on the radio followed by Phil Collins, remember that the former's publisher gets the ASCAP return tax free while the latter's must pay all taxes. Does that really make sense?
Although my post focused mostly on the rights of employees at religious institutions, it was intended to deal aslo, perhaps even more so, with tax and other financial issues.
The separation of church and state is fundamental to our particular republic. Although initially it was installed to protect worshipers, it seems to protect those who choose not to worship just as much. Aside from a few extremists, I think most Americans agree that government has no business in religion and religion has no business in government. That having been said, I think that sometimes the faithful and the non-faithful use the doctrine as a device to change our laws.
As far as the First Amendment is concerned, the People (our government) recognize the valuable service churches and other ministries provide to a community. As the first American municipalities were growing, it became obvious that the church needed some help making ends meet. While operating solely on contributions, the church was trying to keep houses of worship open and running while simultaneously providing care for the poor, the hungry, the sick and the homeless. Tax exemption developed out of this need. Lawyers tended to work gratis; hospitals provided free care to clergy; many special conditions were set up to help churches and religious institutions continue providing their services.
In the 21st century, these laws, rules and exceptions remain. But here's the rub: in many cases these exceptions are being given to large, national, mutli-facted businesses and industries simply because the name on the owner's document is that of a church. Hospital chains, bookstore chains, nursing chains, publishers, funeral home chains, etc. There are churches which own a few or more of all of these services and businesses. But, while many of these businesses work on a for-profit basis, they remain under the non-profit, ministerial exception.
Here's my concern: Is the spirit of tax exemption and ministerial exception being bastardized to give unfair advantages to companies with holy names? Was the intention really meant to cover a theme park in Florida ("The Holy Land Experience")? Was it really there to help bookstores sell more Bibles, CDs, DVDs, and Precious Moments figurines (Bereans)? Was it meant to underwrite a powerful publisher which brings in over $100 million a year (Word)? Was it meant to be an umbrella to cover political action groups and lobbyists (The Christian Coalition, The Moral Majority)? Many of these institutions, while stemming initially from a single church's cadre of services have become massive, national money-makers - not to mention carrying large influence throughout the country. What is it that makes them deserve the advantage of no sales tax, no property tax and exceptions to basic civil and labor laws? That it's all in the name of God?
Even churches are, in my opinion, pushing the envelope. While the majority of chruches across America remain smaller in size and sphere of influence, there is a growing number of mega-churches springing up all over. These are massive complexes which include multiple auditoriums, gymnasiums, schools, bookstores, gift shops, coffee bars, recording studios, video editing suites and more. These are congregations that number in the thousands and even the tens of thousands. They employ a small army of bookkeepers, custodians, secretaries, ministers, musicians, artists, social-workers, etc. The largest bunch actually have multi-million dollar annual budgets. And their campuses are the size of small colleges or army bases. When does their provision stop being a community service and become a standard business service like doctors, lawyers and such? Why should Cedar Creek be able to buy their coffee tax-free while Starbucks has to add the cost? Is the coffee sold at the church really broadening the congregation's spiritual growth?
These are hard questions and the line will not be easily drawn. Nonethless, I believe it's our responsibility to manage our society carefully so these questions must be asked. The next time you hear Jars of Clay on the radio followed by Phil Collins, remember that the former's publisher gets the ASCAP return tax free while the latter's must pay all taxes. Does that really make sense?
Monday, October 09, 2006
On Faith-Based Discrimination
Sounds juicy, huh?
The NY Times published an article today -
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/09/business/09religious.html?ex=1318046400&en=52db2f8f5c943ba8&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss
- covering many cases over the last few years when Americans were unable to sue their employers because of the First Ammendment. Stories covered in the article include:
1) A middle-aged novice in a Catholic diocese who contracted breast cancer and was asked to leave by the Mother Superior because, "I don't think we can take care of her" - causing the novice to lose her health coverage in the process.
2) A nun who achieved the role of Chaplain at a university and then was demoted due to her gender.
3) A Methodist Minister who had served his congregation for 30 years who was forced to leave solely because he turned 70 even though his congregation fought to keep him.
4) Teachers at a religious school who are not allowed to unionize.
5) Hospital workers for one of the largest private hospital chains who are not allowed to unionize and are expected to show signs of deep faith.
All of this is legal and constantly happening due to the First Ammendment ("Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.") In particular, these businesses are protected by ministerial exception, sometimes called the church autonomy doctrine. It turns out that judges across the U. S. will not touch these cases with a ten-foot cross. There's a particualr case discussed in the article in which a judge did just that but he died 3 weeks later, opening the door for the writer of the dissenting opinion to overturn his decision.
Now, this is a delicate area. Certainly a church should be free to hire ministers who hold to the church's tenets of faith. Obviously, a Christian school teacher should be expected to be (and behave like) a Christian. But what about secretaries at the schools? What about nurses at religious, non-profit hospitals? What about (wait for it ... wait for it ...) security personnel at faith-based prisons?
In most cases that are actually brought to court, the complainant is losing a job, health benefits, and pension. In the article, these people are losing their jobs due to their age, gender, and health status. Imagine what would happen if WalMart fired a clerk because she'd blown the whistle on sexual harrassment (that was well-known throughout the store). She'd win in an instant. Every lawyer would run screaming. But that's exactly what happened to Lynette M. Petruska. She notified her superiors of a case of sexual misconduct by a senior official, resisted efforts to cover up the case, and opposed proposals to weaken the sexual harrassment policies. What's worse, when she was let go, her supervisor informed her that she was being let go solely because of her gender (she was the first female chaplain at the university) and not because of any religious doctrine.
You know that whole slippery slope thing? I hate it as an argument. Nonetheless, I do have images of an icy incline up ahead. For a long time, judges have used their discretion to decide whether a certain institution (church, school, hospital, prison) is "religious enough" to be protected under ministerial exception. Recently, those guidelines were softened allowing the entrance of tons of nominally religious universities and hospitals (Yale was a divinity school for Christ's sake!).
Do you see where we're going? Schools, hospitals and, more recently in FL, prisons that have had to abide by standard anti-discrimination laws are now possibly eligible for loosened standards. What if hospitals could fire Muslim orderlies? Or if a university could get rid of that nefarious theology professor because he doesn't hold to all the fundamental tenets of the school's faith? (Remember, we're not talking about the little Christian middle school down the road, we're possibly talking about many well-known and secular-seeming colleges and universities.)
What if the cafeteria staff at the new faith-based prison in Gainesville, FL were not allowed to be members of the union that guarantees them decent pay, hours, and benefits?
I have long been convinced that freedom of religion, the spirit of it at least, was intended to keep individuals from being persecuted for their faith. I honestly have a problem with churches and denominations (which are, let's face, international organizations - companies which traffic in hundreds of millions of dollars) being able to function completely tax-free and outside of our legal system. We always say proudly that our president is not above the law (yes, I sense the irony - I'm actually forcing down the bile right now) yet, we allow our clergy to be just that!
I hope, as our democracy keeps maturing, that we're able to get a grip on this difficult and passion-filled issue. The irony, of course, is that we'd expect the instituions of faith and morality to do right by their employees.
The NY Times published an article today -
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/09/business/09religious.html?ex=1318046400&en=52db2f8f5c943ba8&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss
- covering many cases over the last few years when Americans were unable to sue their employers because of the First Ammendment. Stories covered in the article include:
1) A middle-aged novice in a Catholic diocese who contracted breast cancer and was asked to leave by the Mother Superior because, "I don't think we can take care of her" - causing the novice to lose her health coverage in the process.
2) A nun who achieved the role of Chaplain at a university and then was demoted due to her gender.
3) A Methodist Minister who had served his congregation for 30 years who was forced to leave solely because he turned 70 even though his congregation fought to keep him.
4) Teachers at a religious school who are not allowed to unionize.
5) Hospital workers for one of the largest private hospital chains who are not allowed to unionize and are expected to show signs of deep faith.
All of this is legal and constantly happening due to the First Ammendment ("Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.") In particular, these businesses are protected by ministerial exception, sometimes called the church autonomy doctrine. It turns out that judges across the U. S. will not touch these cases with a ten-foot cross. There's a particualr case discussed in the article in which a judge did just that but he died 3 weeks later, opening the door for the writer of the dissenting opinion to overturn his decision.
Now, this is a delicate area. Certainly a church should be free to hire ministers who hold to the church's tenets of faith. Obviously, a Christian school teacher should be expected to be (and behave like) a Christian. But what about secretaries at the schools? What about nurses at religious, non-profit hospitals? What about (wait for it ... wait for it ...) security personnel at faith-based prisons?
In most cases that are actually brought to court, the complainant is losing a job, health benefits, and pension. In the article, these people are losing their jobs due to their age, gender, and health status. Imagine what would happen if WalMart fired a clerk because she'd blown the whistle on sexual harrassment (that was well-known throughout the store). She'd win in an instant. Every lawyer would run screaming. But that's exactly what happened to Lynette M. Petruska. She notified her superiors of a case of sexual misconduct by a senior official, resisted efforts to cover up the case, and opposed proposals to weaken the sexual harrassment policies. What's worse, when she was let go, her supervisor informed her that she was being let go solely because of her gender (she was the first female chaplain at the university) and not because of any religious doctrine.
You know that whole slippery slope thing? I hate it as an argument. Nonetheless, I do have images of an icy incline up ahead. For a long time, judges have used their discretion to decide whether a certain institution (church, school, hospital, prison) is "religious enough" to be protected under ministerial exception. Recently, those guidelines were softened allowing the entrance of tons of nominally religious universities and hospitals (Yale was a divinity school for Christ's sake!).
Do you see where we're going? Schools, hospitals and, more recently in FL, prisons that have had to abide by standard anti-discrimination laws are now possibly eligible for loosened standards. What if hospitals could fire Muslim orderlies? Or if a university could get rid of that nefarious theology professor because he doesn't hold to all the fundamental tenets of the school's faith? (Remember, we're not talking about the little Christian middle school down the road, we're possibly talking about many well-known and secular-seeming colleges and universities.)
What if the cafeteria staff at the new faith-based prison in Gainesville, FL were not allowed to be members of the union that guarantees them decent pay, hours, and benefits?
I have long been convinced that freedom of religion, the spirit of it at least, was intended to keep individuals from being persecuted for their faith. I honestly have a problem with churches and denominations (which are, let's face, international organizations - companies which traffic in hundreds of millions of dollars) being able to function completely tax-free and outside of our legal system. We always say proudly that our president is not above the law (yes, I sense the irony - I'm actually forcing down the bile right now) yet, we allow our clergy to be just that!
I hope, as our democracy keeps maturing, that we're able to get a grip on this difficult and passion-filled issue. The irony, of course, is that we'd expect the instituions of faith and morality to do right by their employees.
Friday, October 06, 2006
On More TV
Since I don't seem to be inspired to say anything (the Foley thing's been done to death) I thought I'd elaborate on all the television I'm watching.
Heroes: A great premise - an assorted bunch of people each discovering they're capable of something beyond normal human capacity (flying, teleporting, invincible, etc.). There's a man trying to understand them and another man trying to rid the world of them. NBC's spending a lot of money so it looks good and the cast is good enough. The dialogue is a little sophomoric, but I'm hooked enough to want to know what's going to happen.
Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip: Easily the best new show of the season. Aaron Sorkin (Sports Night, The West Wing) created it so there's lots of great characters and lots of fast-paced, witty dialogue. Basically, a SNL type show loses its long-time producer/writer so a team (Bradley Whitford and Matthew Perry) that had left the show four years ago is brought back in. Wackiness ensues. Lots of fun.
Eureka: A summer show on Sci Fi - its first ten has already ended. Eureka is a company town peopled by the smartest minds in America. Nothing is normal - the local mechanic is a physicist, the school is full of over-achievers - you get the idea. The show isn't ground-breaking but it's fun enough.
Stargate SG1: The Sci Fi Channel has pulled the plug after ten years. The first ten of Season 10 have run and now we have to wait until March (!) to see the last ten. A fun show based on the movie with Kurt Russell and James Spader. This has become one of my favorites - I love it.
Stargate Atlantis: A spin-off from SG1 that began two seasons ago. A great cast, fun writing, and good production. This season in particular has been excellent.
Battlestar Galactica: Holy Shit! This ain't your father's Galactica! Easily the best show on TV right now. Great writing, great acting, great characters, great universe, huge stakes, lots of tension, great production values. It's impossible to dislike this show. The new season begins tonight!!!!!!
Bones: In it's second season. A forensics expert and a FBI agent join forces to solve crimes. It's a little more intersting than that. The crimes are good, the actors are fun. Occasionally the dialogue can get a little sappy and the soundtrack can sometimes be over-bearing, but for the most part it's a solid show that I look forward to.
Scrubs: How does NBC sleep at night? Here they have the best sticom on TV (one camera, no audience) since Arrested Development left and they do everything they can to bury it. The current season has yet to begin. Great characters and really fun writing.
How I Met Your Mother: Started watching for Alyson Hannigan. Have always liked Jason Seagel. It's a one camera show (which, for some bullshit reason NBC hobbles with a laugh track) about a man 20 years from now telling his kids how he met their mother. It's not the best TV but I like it enough to spend a half hour a week on. I'm incredibly envious of Neil Patrick Harris's carreer.
Veronica Mars: We'll be watching the premiere of season 3 today. If you haven't seen it get on it. Smart, funny, tough, well-written. A solid replacement for Buffy and Angel fans. Feels like Joss even though it isn't.
Lost: HOLY SHIT! Watched the premiere of season 3 last night. HOLY SHIT!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!
Smallville: A guilty pleasure. A genre show based on Superman's life as a teen in Smallville. Decent characters, decent writing, decent production values. So why keep coming back? Two words: Kristin Kreunk! (or, if you prefer the other, Tom Welling)
The Office: So funny! Steve Carrell is a genius. Ricky Gervais (the creator of the British version) is a genius. The whole cast and writing team are geniuses. The water cooler is a genius.
Dead Like Me: A fun show cancelled from Showtime a few years back. Quirky characters, wonderful writing. Check it out if you want something different form the normal network fare.
The 4400: Just got started. Great premise. Very promising. (After 40 years of occasional disappearances, 4400 people are suddenly deposited on the bank of a lake in Seattle with no memeroy of what's happened to them.)
Farscape: Haven't started. Very excited.
Babylon 5: Haven't started. Very excited.
The X-Files: Believe it or not, I've never seen one episode. Staring today. VERY excited.
Heroes: A great premise - an assorted bunch of people each discovering they're capable of something beyond normal human capacity (flying, teleporting, invincible, etc.). There's a man trying to understand them and another man trying to rid the world of them. NBC's spending a lot of money so it looks good and the cast is good enough. The dialogue is a little sophomoric, but I'm hooked enough to want to know what's going to happen.
Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip: Easily the best new show of the season. Aaron Sorkin (Sports Night, The West Wing) created it so there's lots of great characters and lots of fast-paced, witty dialogue. Basically, a SNL type show loses its long-time producer/writer so a team (Bradley Whitford and Matthew Perry) that had left the show four years ago is brought back in. Wackiness ensues. Lots of fun.
Eureka: A summer show on Sci Fi - its first ten has already ended. Eureka is a company town peopled by the smartest minds in America. Nothing is normal - the local mechanic is a physicist, the school is full of over-achievers - you get the idea. The show isn't ground-breaking but it's fun enough.
Stargate SG1: The Sci Fi Channel has pulled the plug after ten years. The first ten of Season 10 have run and now we have to wait until March (!) to see the last ten. A fun show based on the movie with Kurt Russell and James Spader. This has become one of my favorites - I love it.
Stargate Atlantis: A spin-off from SG1 that began two seasons ago. A great cast, fun writing, and good production. This season in particular has been excellent.
Battlestar Galactica: Holy Shit! This ain't your father's Galactica! Easily the best show on TV right now. Great writing, great acting, great characters, great universe, huge stakes, lots of tension, great production values. It's impossible to dislike this show. The new season begins tonight!!!!!!
Bones: In it's second season. A forensics expert and a FBI agent join forces to solve crimes. It's a little more intersting than that. The crimes are good, the actors are fun. Occasionally the dialogue can get a little sappy and the soundtrack can sometimes be over-bearing, but for the most part it's a solid show that I look forward to.
Scrubs: How does NBC sleep at night? Here they have the best sticom on TV (one camera, no audience) since Arrested Development left and they do everything they can to bury it. The current season has yet to begin. Great characters and really fun writing.
How I Met Your Mother: Started watching for Alyson Hannigan. Have always liked Jason Seagel. It's a one camera show (which, for some bullshit reason NBC hobbles with a laugh track) about a man 20 years from now telling his kids how he met their mother. It's not the best TV but I like it enough to spend a half hour a week on. I'm incredibly envious of Neil Patrick Harris's carreer.
Veronica Mars: We'll be watching the premiere of season 3 today. If you haven't seen it get on it. Smart, funny, tough, well-written. A solid replacement for Buffy and Angel fans. Feels like Joss even though it isn't.
Lost: HOLY SHIT! Watched the premiere of season 3 last night. HOLY SHIT!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!
Smallville: A guilty pleasure. A genre show based on Superman's life as a teen in Smallville. Decent characters, decent writing, decent production values. So why keep coming back? Two words: Kristin Kreunk! (or, if you prefer the other, Tom Welling)
The Office: So funny! Steve Carrell is a genius. Ricky Gervais (the creator of the British version) is a genius. The whole cast and writing team are geniuses. The water cooler is a genius.
Dead Like Me: A fun show cancelled from Showtime a few years back. Quirky characters, wonderful writing. Check it out if you want something different form the normal network fare.
The 4400: Just got started. Great premise. Very promising. (After 40 years of occasional disappearances, 4400 people are suddenly deposited on the bank of a lake in Seattle with no memeroy of what's happened to them.)
Farscape: Haven't started. Very excited.
Babylon 5: Haven't started. Very excited.
The X-Files: Believe it or not, I've never seen one episode. Staring today. VERY excited.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
On TV
Here's the list:
New this season - Heroes, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, Eureka
Continuing this season - Stargate SG1, Stargate Atlantis, Battlestar Gallactica, Bones, Scrubs, How I Met Your Mother, Veronica Mars, Lost, Smallville, The Office
On DVD - Dead Like Me, The 4400, Farscape, Babylon 5, The X-Files
Will watch again on DVD or DVR - Buffy, Angel, Firefly, Wonderfalls
Dear God!
New this season - Heroes, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, Eureka
Continuing this season - Stargate SG1, Stargate Atlantis, Battlestar Gallactica, Bones, Scrubs, How I Met Your Mother, Veronica Mars, Lost, Smallville, The Office
On DVD - Dead Like Me, The 4400, Farscape, Babylon 5, The X-Files
Will watch again on DVD or DVR - Buffy, Angel, Firefly, Wonderfalls
Dear God!
On Banned Books
The American Library Association ( http://www.ala.org/ ) posts a list every year of the top 100 books that have been challenged. These books have been successfully banned in local libraries or school libraries. Here's the List:
1. Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
2. Daddy's Roommate by Michael Willhoite
3. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
4. The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
5. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
6. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
7. Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
8. Forever by Judy Blume
9. Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
10. Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
11. Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
12. My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
13. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
14. The Giver by Lois Lowry
15. It's Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
16. Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
17. A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
18. The Color Purple by Alice Walker
19. Sex by Madonna
20. Earth's Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
21. The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
22. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
23. Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
24. Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
25. In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
26. The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard
27. The Witches by Roald Dahl
28. The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
29. Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
30. The Goats by Brock Cole
31. Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
32. Blubber by Judy Blume
33. Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
34. Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
35. We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
36. Final Exit by Derek Humphry
37. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
38. Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
39. The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
40. What's Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
41. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
42. Beloved by Toni Morrison
43. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
44. The Pigman by Paul Zindel
45. Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
46. Deenie by Judy Blume
47. Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
48. Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
49. The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
50. Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
51. A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
52. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
53. Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
54. Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
55. Cujo by Stephen King
56. James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
57. The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
58. Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
59. Ordinary People by Judith Guest
60. American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
61. What's Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
62. Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
63. Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
64. Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
65. Fade by Robert Cormier
66. Guess What? by Mem Fox
67. The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende
68. The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
69. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
70. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
71. Native Son by Richard Wright
72. Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women's Fantasies by Nancy Friday
73. Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
74. Jack by A.M. Homes
75. Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
76. Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
77. Carrie by Stephen King
78. Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
79. On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
80. Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
81. Family Secrets by Norma Klein
82. Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
83. The Dead Zone by Stephen King
84. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
85. Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
86. Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
87. Private Parts by Howard Stern
88. Where's Waldo? by Martin Hanford
89. Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
90. Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
91. Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
92. Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
93. Sex Education by Jenny Davis
94. The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
95. Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
96. How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
97. View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts
98. The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
99. The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney
100. Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
When Thomas Jefferson left thousands of books to the Library of Congress and Ben Franklin struggled to create publically accessible stores of books in major communities, they were creating one of the great American bastions of socialist power. By allowing common people to read and remain informed, they provided the people with a staggering amount of power. In these days of neo-cons and backwardly-mobile science classes, I feel it's important to keep an eye on those books which members of our community deem unfit.
Some things to notice:
Many of these books are non-fiction and fiction coming of age lessons. With themes of sex, homosexuality, lust, violence, shame, and obesity, these books obviously capture the imagination of thousands of kids every year. Authors such as Judy Blume and Roald Dahl are villified because they treat kids with respect. They discuss their fears and worries along with sex, power, and other adult themes.
Where's Waldo made the cut because of speculation over naked people hiding in certain imags of hundreds of people.
Madonna and Howard Stern make the cut due their desire to push the boundaries of social decency and morality.
Mark Twain - one of my heroes - makes the cut twice due to his use of racial overtones and linguistics. It's hard to imagine those who have challenged these books as having actually read them.
I would wager that everyone who reads this blog has read at least a few of these books. Are witchcraft, menstruation, homosexuality, coming-of-age, sex, lust, drugs, racism, spirituality, religion, nakedness, fear, terror, etc. really that terrifying? The answer is probably yes. But should we run away from depictions of such? Or should we inspect these things? Should we embrace them, mull them around, try to make sense of them? Is it really so damaging to have characters menstruate - after all, isn't that a univeral struggle for women of every stripe?
Here's the part where I reveal how unread I actually am. Of these books I have read:
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling, The Giver by Lois Lowry, Blubber by Judy Blume, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (one of my all-time favorites), Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes, Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl, Lord of the Flies by William Golding, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain. I know Amanda has also read (not counting the books already listed) Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, Beloved by Toni Morrison, A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein, The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende, Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut.
I list these not to proove how well-read or un-read we are. My point is that we haven't killed anyone. We are not on drugs. We have no illegitimate children or aborted children in our past. We pay our taxes and contribute to society. We are socially and politically active. We do not support or condone illegal behavior. Imagine if we'd read all the books (although, I think I'll go ahead skip Where's Waldo)! We'd be killers. We'd be homosexual-racist-menstruating-anti-Christian-wicca-loving-murderous-drug-infested ne'er-do-wells. Thank God that these people challenge these books. What better way to keep people uninformed and un-thinking than to remove any thought-provoking literature from their grasp. As Hermione once told Harry:
"Oh, Harry, don't you see? If [Professor Umbridge] could have done one thing to make absolutely sure that every single person in this school will read your interview, it was banning it!"
1. Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
2. Daddy's Roommate by Michael Willhoite
3. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
4. The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
5. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
6. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
7. Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
8. Forever by Judy Blume
9. Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
10. Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
11. Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
12. My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
13. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
14. The Giver by Lois Lowry
15. It's Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
16. Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
17. A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
18. The Color Purple by Alice Walker
19. Sex by Madonna
20. Earth's Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
21. The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
22. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
23. Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
24. Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
25. In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
26. The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard
27. The Witches by Roald Dahl
28. The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
29. Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
30. The Goats by Brock Cole
31. Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
32. Blubber by Judy Blume
33. Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
34. Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
35. We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
36. Final Exit by Derek Humphry
37. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
38. Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
39. The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
40. What's Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
41. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
42. Beloved by Toni Morrison
43. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
44. The Pigman by Paul Zindel
45. Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
46. Deenie by Judy Blume
47. Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
48. Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
49. The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
50. Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
51. A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
52. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
53. Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
54. Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
55. Cujo by Stephen King
56. James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
57. The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
58. Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
59. Ordinary People by Judith Guest
60. American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
61. What's Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
62. Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
63. Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
64. Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
65. Fade by Robert Cormier
66. Guess What? by Mem Fox
67. The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende
68. The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
69. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
70. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
71. Native Son by Richard Wright
72. Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women's Fantasies by Nancy Friday
73. Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
74. Jack by A.M. Homes
75. Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
76. Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
77. Carrie by Stephen King
78. Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
79. On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
80. Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
81. Family Secrets by Norma Klein
82. Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
83. The Dead Zone by Stephen King
84. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
85. Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
86. Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
87. Private Parts by Howard Stern
88. Where's Waldo? by Martin Hanford
89. Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
90. Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
91. Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
92. Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
93. Sex Education by Jenny Davis
94. The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
95. Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
96. How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
97. View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts
98. The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
99. The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney
100. Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
When Thomas Jefferson left thousands of books to the Library of Congress and Ben Franklin struggled to create publically accessible stores of books in major communities, they were creating one of the great American bastions of socialist power. By allowing common people to read and remain informed, they provided the people with a staggering amount of power. In these days of neo-cons and backwardly-mobile science classes, I feel it's important to keep an eye on those books which members of our community deem unfit.
Some things to notice:
Many of these books are non-fiction and fiction coming of age lessons. With themes of sex, homosexuality, lust, violence, shame, and obesity, these books obviously capture the imagination of thousands of kids every year. Authors such as Judy Blume and Roald Dahl are villified because they treat kids with respect. They discuss their fears and worries along with sex, power, and other adult themes.
Where's Waldo made the cut because of speculation over naked people hiding in certain imags of hundreds of people.
Madonna and Howard Stern make the cut due their desire to push the boundaries of social decency and morality.
Mark Twain - one of my heroes - makes the cut twice due to his use of racial overtones and linguistics. It's hard to imagine those who have challenged these books as having actually read them.
I would wager that everyone who reads this blog has read at least a few of these books. Are witchcraft, menstruation, homosexuality, coming-of-age, sex, lust, drugs, racism, spirituality, religion, nakedness, fear, terror, etc. really that terrifying? The answer is probably yes. But should we run away from depictions of such? Or should we inspect these things? Should we embrace them, mull them around, try to make sense of them? Is it really so damaging to have characters menstruate - after all, isn't that a univeral struggle for women of every stripe?
Here's the part where I reveal how unread I actually am. Of these books I have read:
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling, The Giver by Lois Lowry, Blubber by Judy Blume, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (one of my all-time favorites), Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes, Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl, Lord of the Flies by William Golding, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain. I know Amanda has also read (not counting the books already listed) Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, Beloved by Toni Morrison, A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein, The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende, Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut.
I list these not to proove how well-read or un-read we are. My point is that we haven't killed anyone. We are not on drugs. We have no illegitimate children or aborted children in our past. We pay our taxes and contribute to society. We are socially and politically active. We do not support or condone illegal behavior. Imagine if we'd read all the books (although, I think I'll go ahead skip Where's Waldo)! We'd be killers. We'd be homosexual-racist-menstruating-anti-Christian-wicca-loving-murderous-drug-infested ne'er-do-wells. Thank God that these people challenge these books. What better way to keep people uninformed and un-thinking than to remove any thought-provoking literature from their grasp. As Hermione once told Harry:
"Oh, Harry, don't you see? If [Professor Umbridge] could have done one thing to make absolutely sure that every single person in this school will read your interview, it was banning it!"
Saturday, September 30, 2006
On Lloyd-Webber
The other day I made a mistake. I was searching through the on-screen guide to find stuff for the DVR to record and I saw that The Phantom of the Opera was just starting on HBO 3. I hadn't seen it so I thought, "What the hell?" Ah, how quickly it all came back.
Many people ask me which musical theater composers I admire and which I don't.
First the list:
I REALLY admire: Stephen Sondheim, Cy Coleman, Richard Rodgers, Stephen Flaherty, George Gershwin, Leonard Bernstein, Jason Robert Brown, Jerry Bock, William Finn
I admire: Irving Berlin, Cole Porter, Mary Rodgers, Stephen Schwartz, Alan Menken, Marc Shaiman, Jerry Herman, Jerome Kern, Harold Arlen, Frank Loesser, Jule Styne, Frederick Loewe, Burton Lane, Marvin Hamlisch, Maury Yeston, Noel Coward, John Kander, Johnny Mercer, Charles Strouse, Kurt Weill, Richard Whiting
I don't care for: Andrew Lloyd-Webber, Frank Wildhorn, Lionel Bart (As Long as He Needs Me is a HUGE exception), Claude-Michel Schonberg (there are a few exceptions), Meredith Willson (I know, I'm sure this surprises people)
So, in a nutshell what separates these lists of greats? Simply put, I judge musical merit by comparing it to what I believe I'm capable of as a composer. In other words, if I could do it I don't admire it very much, if I could do it with much study and practice then I admire it, if I could never hope to come close then I really admire it. Yes, it's really that simple.
So, what's my problem with Lloyd-Webber and Wildhorn especially? Well, here's where things get dicy. You see, musical theater composers aren't just composers, they're providing a device to carry a lyric. If the lyric doesn't sit - if it doesn't sell fluidly - then, as far as it's merit for musical theater, the music doesn't work. Lloyd-Webber actually writes some very nice melodies; but they almost never go with their lyric. Or, worst yet, the lyric re-hashes itself throughout a song because the song requires more words. This is common in pop music, but in musical theater it can get boring fast. Take, for example, "Past the Point of No Return" from The Phantom of the Opera:
"Past the pointof no return
no backward glances
the games we've played
till now are at an end
Past all thoughtof "if" or "when"
no use resisting
abandon thought
and let the dream descend [what does that even mean?]
What raging fire shall flood the soul?
What rich desire unlocks its door?
What sweet seduction lies before us?
Past the point of no return
the final threshold
what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?
Beyond the point of no return."
The lyric just goes on and on to fulfill the tune. Lloyd-Webber's tune, a cross between Rodgers and Wagner, is actually quite pleasant (well, pleasantly chilling) but the lyric, with its cliche'd imagery and goes-on-too-long style, buries it.
Things are worse in Wildhorn's world. Wildhorn, a successful pop producer and composer, simply writes a pop tune and throws it in. "This is the Moment" from Jeckyll & Hyde is a perfect example. First of all, it's structured in the classic verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus, modulation, chorus structure of thousands of pop songs from the 70s through the 90s. Secondly, its lyric is sophomoric at best:
"This is the moment!
This is the day
When I send all my doubts and demons
On their way!
Every endeavor I have made ever
Is coming into play
Is here and now - today!
This is the moment,
This is the time,
When the momentum and the moment
Are in rhyme!
Give me this moment
This precious chance
I'll gather up my past
And make some sense at last!
This is the moment
When all I've done
All of the dreaming
Scheming and screaming
Become one! [what does that mean?]
This is the day
See it sparkle and shine
When all I've lived for becomes mine!
For all these years
I've faced the world alone
And now the time has come
To prove to them I've made it on my own!
This is the moment
My final test
Destiny beckoned
I never reckoned [WAY too contrived for the internal rhyme]
Second Best!
I won't look down
I must not fall! [this I like]
This is the moment
The sweetest moment of them all!
This is the moment!
Damn all the odds!
This day, or never,
I'll sit forever with the gods!
When I look back
I will always recall
Moment for moment
This was the moment
The greatest moment Of them all!"
Do you see my issue? A fair tune (certainly not anything special), but Bricusse is forced to keep writing to fill it up. There are some decent lyrics in here (and some shitty ones, too) but by the end, who cares? It's a pop song masquerading as musical theater. Compare this song with Sondheim's breakdown for Sweeney before the end of Act I:
"They all deserve to die.
Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why.
Because in all of the whole human race, Mrs Lovett,
there are two kinds of men and only two
There's the one they put in his proper place
And the one with his foot in the other one's face
Look at me, Mrs Lovett, look at you.
Now we all deserve to die
Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why.
Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief
For the rest of us death will be a relief
We all deserve to die.
And I'll never see Joanna
No I'll never hold my girl to me - finished!
Alright! You sir, you sir, how about a shave?
Come and visit your good friend Sweeney.
You sir, you sir? Welcome to the grave.
I will have vengenance. I will have salvation.
Who sir, you sir? No one in the chair, come on!
Come on!Sweeney's waiting.
I want you bleeders.
You sir - anybody.
Gentlemen don't be shy!
Not one man, no, not ten men.
Not a hundred can assuage me
I will have you!
And I will get him back even as he gloats
In the meantime I'll practice on less honorable throats.
And my Lucy lies in ashes
And I'll never see my girl again.
But the work waits!
I'm alive at last!
And I'm full of joy!"
Hmm, seems kind of repetitive, too, huh? Maybe. But let's look at it. Each time Sweeney repeats himself, he's returning to that feeling. "We all deserve to die" - major thematic material, by the way - is said more than once, but each time it's followed by a different lament. Notice also (well, you could if you were listening to it rather than reading it) that the musical themes and motifs are constantly changing to fit the mood, character, and feeling. And take a look at the end! He's full of joy! Why? Because he's just decided to get back at the world by becoming a mass murderer! He's alive at last!
Anyway, that's a very tiny nugget of what goes into my tastes in regard to musical theater composers (and, I suppose, lyricists - although that's really another discussion).
Please feel free to comment, disagree, stop talking to me, or whatever - just my opinions.
Many people ask me which musical theater composers I admire and which I don't.
First the list:
I REALLY admire: Stephen Sondheim, Cy Coleman, Richard Rodgers, Stephen Flaherty, George Gershwin, Leonard Bernstein, Jason Robert Brown, Jerry Bock, William Finn
I admire: Irving Berlin, Cole Porter, Mary Rodgers, Stephen Schwartz, Alan Menken, Marc Shaiman, Jerry Herman, Jerome Kern, Harold Arlen, Frank Loesser, Jule Styne, Frederick Loewe, Burton Lane, Marvin Hamlisch, Maury Yeston, Noel Coward, John Kander, Johnny Mercer, Charles Strouse, Kurt Weill, Richard Whiting
I don't care for: Andrew Lloyd-Webber, Frank Wildhorn, Lionel Bart (As Long as He Needs Me is a HUGE exception), Claude-Michel Schonberg (there are a few exceptions), Meredith Willson (I know, I'm sure this surprises people)
So, in a nutshell what separates these lists of greats? Simply put, I judge musical merit by comparing it to what I believe I'm capable of as a composer. In other words, if I could do it I don't admire it very much, if I could do it with much study and practice then I admire it, if I could never hope to come close then I really admire it. Yes, it's really that simple.
So, what's my problem with Lloyd-Webber and Wildhorn especially? Well, here's where things get dicy. You see, musical theater composers aren't just composers, they're providing a device to carry a lyric. If the lyric doesn't sit - if it doesn't sell fluidly - then, as far as it's merit for musical theater, the music doesn't work. Lloyd-Webber actually writes some very nice melodies; but they almost never go with their lyric. Or, worst yet, the lyric re-hashes itself throughout a song because the song requires more words. This is common in pop music, but in musical theater it can get boring fast. Take, for example, "Past the Point of No Return" from The Phantom of the Opera:
"Past the pointof no return
no backward glances
the games we've played
till now are at an end
Past all thoughtof "if" or "when"
no use resisting
abandon thought
and let the dream descend [what does that even mean?]
What raging fire shall flood the soul?
What rich desire unlocks its door?
What sweet seduction lies before us?
Past the point of no return
the final threshold
what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?
Beyond the point of no return."
The lyric just goes on and on to fulfill the tune. Lloyd-Webber's tune, a cross between Rodgers and Wagner, is actually quite pleasant (well, pleasantly chilling) but the lyric, with its cliche'd imagery and goes-on-too-long style, buries it.
Things are worse in Wildhorn's world. Wildhorn, a successful pop producer and composer, simply writes a pop tune and throws it in. "This is the Moment" from Jeckyll & Hyde is a perfect example. First of all, it's structured in the classic verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus, modulation, chorus structure of thousands of pop songs from the 70s through the 90s. Secondly, its lyric is sophomoric at best:
"This is the moment!
This is the day
When I send all my doubts and demons
On their way!
Every endeavor I have made ever
Is coming into play
Is here and now - today!
This is the moment,
This is the time,
When the momentum and the moment
Are in rhyme!
Give me this moment
This precious chance
I'll gather up my past
And make some sense at last!
This is the moment
When all I've done
All of the dreaming
Scheming and screaming
Become one! [what does that mean?]
This is the day
See it sparkle and shine
When all I've lived for becomes mine!
For all these years
I've faced the world alone
And now the time has come
To prove to them I've made it on my own!
This is the moment
My final test
Destiny beckoned
I never reckoned [WAY too contrived for the internal rhyme]
Second Best!
I won't look down
I must not fall! [this I like]
This is the moment
The sweetest moment of them all!
This is the moment!
Damn all the odds!
This day, or never,
I'll sit forever with the gods!
When I look back
I will always recall
Moment for moment
This was the moment
The greatest moment Of them all!"
Do you see my issue? A fair tune (certainly not anything special), but Bricusse is forced to keep writing to fill it up. There are some decent lyrics in here (and some shitty ones, too) but by the end, who cares? It's a pop song masquerading as musical theater. Compare this song with Sondheim's breakdown for Sweeney before the end of Act I:
"They all deserve to die.
Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why.
Because in all of the whole human race, Mrs Lovett,
there are two kinds of men and only two
There's the one they put in his proper place
And the one with his foot in the other one's face
Look at me, Mrs Lovett, look at you.
Now we all deserve to die
Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why.
Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief
For the rest of us death will be a relief
We all deserve to die.
And I'll never see Joanna
No I'll never hold my girl to me - finished!
Alright! You sir, you sir, how about a shave?
Come and visit your good friend Sweeney.
You sir, you sir? Welcome to the grave.
I will have vengenance. I will have salvation.
Who sir, you sir? No one in the chair, come on!
Come on!Sweeney's waiting.
I want you bleeders.
You sir - anybody.
Gentlemen don't be shy!
Not one man, no, not ten men.
Not a hundred can assuage me
I will have you!
And I will get him back even as he gloats
In the meantime I'll practice on less honorable throats.
And my Lucy lies in ashes
And I'll never see my girl again.
But the work waits!
I'm alive at last!
And I'm full of joy!"
Hmm, seems kind of repetitive, too, huh? Maybe. But let's look at it. Each time Sweeney repeats himself, he's returning to that feeling. "We all deserve to die" - major thematic material, by the way - is said more than once, but each time it's followed by a different lament. Notice also (well, you could if you were listening to it rather than reading it) that the musical themes and motifs are constantly changing to fit the mood, character, and feeling. And take a look at the end! He's full of joy! Why? Because he's just decided to get back at the world by becoming a mass murderer! He's alive at last!
Anyway, that's a very tiny nugget of what goes into my tastes in regard to musical theater composers (and, I suppose, lyricists - although that's really another discussion).
Please feel free to comment, disagree, stop talking to me, or whatever - just my opinions.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
On My Father
It's been so long since it all happened. I'm not sure how many people even know it did. After this weekend, after Bruce Russell and Ben Alderson, I guess I just wanted to tell my story. I don't mean to steal anyone's thunder. I find myself thinking of dad and I thought some others might like to know exactly what happened.
I was 21 or 22. I was delivering flowers, leading music at a church on Wednesdays and Sundays, and getting work as a music director with community theaters and high schools. At this particular time I was teaching West Side Story at Seminole High School for the late Wendell Williams. Rehearsals were after school. On Wednesday, after delivering flowers for four hours or so, I stopped by home to get lunch before driving to Seminole. I was upstairs and my mom was downstairs when we got the call. Some guy at dad's new job called saying that dad had collapsed and was on his way to the ER.
My dad, Rick Tucker, had been going from job to job for years. After flying four tours in Vietnam as a Navy helicopter pilot, he'd had a couple of good jobs. First selling for Sears and Roebuck and then selling mortgages for Savings of America. After refusing to make a deal that he felt was unprincipled, he'd been let go and was now moving from job to job trying to make ends meet. Taxi driver, used car salesman, mortgage salesman, parole officer - he'd done anything he could to try to help us stay afloat. With his jobs, mom's up-start real estate, and my collection of minimum wagers and music stuff, we were OK.
At the time, all thought it had been a heavy stroke. He was standing in front of his desk when he suddenly collapsed to the floor. He was in a coma and it was hard to tell when he might come out. By the end of the day, he'd been moved from the ER to NICU (neurological intensive care) so they could take pictures of his brain and keep him under heavy guard. As the hours went by, the doctors realized that a blood vessel had exploded in his brain due to an aneurysm (a peanut-sized bulb in a vessel that allows pressure to build up over time). It was already too late. His brain was covered in blood and the vessel had lost it's connection to the rest of the arteries. A neurosurgeon and neurologist were called and both delivered a bleak prognosis.
My mom was having none of it. There must be something that can be done. So, at 7:00 the next morning, the 14-hour surgery began on his brain. By the middle of the day, the surgical waiting room was deluged with visitors. At one point we counted 98 people there for dad and our family. This probably sounds corny, but I'm still humbled by that. I had a decision to make, we were in the second week of a two-week run of The Boys From Syracuse at the Tides Dinner Theater. Adam, Jason, Kirk, Michelle, Jay (Jordan), Nancy ... so many people I still know and love were a part of that show. I decided to play the show that night. Christy stayed longer at the hospital so I could go to the theater and she could keep me informed (this is before the days of cell phones, after all). That night, I actually missed a song cue and Jason had to deliver it twice. When I finally realized what he was doing, the audience got to hear me say, "Oh shit!" before rolling into "Dear Old Syracuse". During the first scene of Act II, a little yellow piece of paper was delivered to me at the piano. It said:
1. Your dad's ok.
2. Surgery is over and he did fine. He's still in a coma and we won't know for a while how things went.
3. Your mother loves you.
4. So do I.
That was Christy. She's pretty damn cool.
Over the next bunch of months a lot of things happened. First, my dad did wake up after almost four months in a coma, but he was never the same. The right side of his body was paralyzed and he was not really Rick Tucker any more. He couldn't speak and, we think, couldn't think. Once he came home, we cared for him as best we could for the next 3 1/2 years. Our lives became an endless string of diapers, wheelchairs, placing a 6'4" man in a car, blood, tests, communication attempts, etc. We moved from place to place after having lost the house. His new employer had dropped the ball and he was completely uninsured. $350,000 of hospital debt, mortgage debt, credit card debt, loss of income (both his and my mom's due to her spending all of her time at the hospital), and other shit left us near destitute. We lived with another family for a while. We lost our dog, Ramsey, for two years. We lost the piano. Hell, we lost pretty near everything.
Finally, after over three years cancer took my dad. Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma - contracted via exposure to Agent Orange in Vietnam - had covered his organs. After chemo and radiation, the decision was made to remove the feeding tube, amp up the morphine, and let him go. I had a decision to make again. Do I do a show or not (this time it was Lend Me a Tenor at Spotlight Dinner Theater). We cancelled that afternoon, but I went on that night (castmembers included Jorge, Fadi, Michelle, Brick, Wendy, Ligia).
The funeral was huge. Everyone was there - including the Aldersons and the Russells. Over the next few months I cried like a baby more than once. I screamed and cursed at god until I got hoarse (although that sounds cliche, I actually did). By the time everything was over, we were living in a home that was protecting the little money mom had finally gotten from the Navy thanks to Clinton's including Agent Orange on the official list of combat-associated death causes. My mom was very alone. I'd left the church and my faith. I'd tried college and dropped out. We were massively in debt and awaiting the seven years needed to start cleaning up that kind of a mess.
Life now seems far removed from that time. It serves as a divider between that other, former, life and the one I lead today. There are still a bunch of people in my life who remember my dad before he collapsed. A bunch more remember the sweet but simple dad in the wheel chair. I've got all sorts of stories from that time. Most of them are that kind of funny that's mixed with just enough tragedy to make it really biting - my favorite kind of funny.
So, there you go. If you've ever wondered, you now know the basics. I was 22 when he collapsed and 25 when he died. Since I was twelve years old, I've lost my uncle Frank and aunt Paula (Mindy, Michael, and Matthew's parents - my mom's sister and brother-in-law with whom I pretty much grew up); my grandmother (my mom's mom); my grandfather and uncle (my dad's step-dad and brother - who, incidentally, also died from a ruptured cranial aneurysm); and my dad. Oh, there've been lots of others, but these were the close ones.
If you've ever wondered where I get my musical talent and stubbornness - that's my mom. But the way I sit, my neck, my tendency to be a ham, my loudness, and my (seeming) self-confidence - that's all dad. He gave me a lot. He loved me and brother, Richard, almost as much as he loved mom. He was kind, dear, funny (in a stupid kind of way), honest, and caring. He was a pretty cool guy who knew how to make a really bad joke at a really wrong time. There aren't many people that disliked him. I miss him very much.
I was 21 or 22. I was delivering flowers, leading music at a church on Wednesdays and Sundays, and getting work as a music director with community theaters and high schools. At this particular time I was teaching West Side Story at Seminole High School for the late Wendell Williams. Rehearsals were after school. On Wednesday, after delivering flowers for four hours or so, I stopped by home to get lunch before driving to Seminole. I was upstairs and my mom was downstairs when we got the call. Some guy at dad's new job called saying that dad had collapsed and was on his way to the ER.
My dad, Rick Tucker, had been going from job to job for years. After flying four tours in Vietnam as a Navy helicopter pilot, he'd had a couple of good jobs. First selling for Sears and Roebuck and then selling mortgages for Savings of America. After refusing to make a deal that he felt was unprincipled, he'd been let go and was now moving from job to job trying to make ends meet. Taxi driver, used car salesman, mortgage salesman, parole officer - he'd done anything he could to try to help us stay afloat. With his jobs, mom's up-start real estate, and my collection of minimum wagers and music stuff, we were OK.
At the time, all thought it had been a heavy stroke. He was standing in front of his desk when he suddenly collapsed to the floor. He was in a coma and it was hard to tell when he might come out. By the end of the day, he'd been moved from the ER to NICU (neurological intensive care) so they could take pictures of his brain and keep him under heavy guard. As the hours went by, the doctors realized that a blood vessel had exploded in his brain due to an aneurysm (a peanut-sized bulb in a vessel that allows pressure to build up over time). It was already too late. His brain was covered in blood and the vessel had lost it's connection to the rest of the arteries. A neurosurgeon and neurologist were called and both delivered a bleak prognosis.
My mom was having none of it. There must be something that can be done. So, at 7:00 the next morning, the 14-hour surgery began on his brain. By the middle of the day, the surgical waiting room was deluged with visitors. At one point we counted 98 people there for dad and our family. This probably sounds corny, but I'm still humbled by that. I had a decision to make, we were in the second week of a two-week run of The Boys From Syracuse at the Tides Dinner Theater. Adam, Jason, Kirk, Michelle, Jay (Jordan), Nancy ... so many people I still know and love were a part of that show. I decided to play the show that night. Christy stayed longer at the hospital so I could go to the theater and she could keep me informed (this is before the days of cell phones, after all). That night, I actually missed a song cue and Jason had to deliver it twice. When I finally realized what he was doing, the audience got to hear me say, "Oh shit!" before rolling into "Dear Old Syracuse". During the first scene of Act II, a little yellow piece of paper was delivered to me at the piano. It said:
1. Your dad's ok.
2. Surgery is over and he did fine. He's still in a coma and we won't know for a while how things went.
3. Your mother loves you.
4. So do I.
That was Christy. She's pretty damn cool.
Over the next bunch of months a lot of things happened. First, my dad did wake up after almost four months in a coma, but he was never the same. The right side of his body was paralyzed and he was not really Rick Tucker any more. He couldn't speak and, we think, couldn't think. Once he came home, we cared for him as best we could for the next 3 1/2 years. Our lives became an endless string of diapers, wheelchairs, placing a 6'4" man in a car, blood, tests, communication attempts, etc. We moved from place to place after having lost the house. His new employer had dropped the ball and he was completely uninsured. $350,000 of hospital debt, mortgage debt, credit card debt, loss of income (both his and my mom's due to her spending all of her time at the hospital), and other shit left us near destitute. We lived with another family for a while. We lost our dog, Ramsey, for two years. We lost the piano. Hell, we lost pretty near everything.
Finally, after over three years cancer took my dad. Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma - contracted via exposure to Agent Orange in Vietnam - had covered his organs. After chemo and radiation, the decision was made to remove the feeding tube, amp up the morphine, and let him go. I had a decision to make again. Do I do a show or not (this time it was Lend Me a Tenor at Spotlight Dinner Theater). We cancelled that afternoon, but I went on that night (castmembers included Jorge, Fadi, Michelle, Brick, Wendy, Ligia).
The funeral was huge. Everyone was there - including the Aldersons and the Russells. Over the next few months I cried like a baby more than once. I screamed and cursed at god until I got hoarse (although that sounds cliche, I actually did). By the time everything was over, we were living in a home that was protecting the little money mom had finally gotten from the Navy thanks to Clinton's including Agent Orange on the official list of combat-associated death causes. My mom was very alone. I'd left the church and my faith. I'd tried college and dropped out. We were massively in debt and awaiting the seven years needed to start cleaning up that kind of a mess.
Life now seems far removed from that time. It serves as a divider between that other, former, life and the one I lead today. There are still a bunch of people in my life who remember my dad before he collapsed. A bunch more remember the sweet but simple dad in the wheel chair. I've got all sorts of stories from that time. Most of them are that kind of funny that's mixed with just enough tragedy to make it really biting - my favorite kind of funny.
So, there you go. If you've ever wondered, you now know the basics. I was 22 when he collapsed and 25 when he died. Since I was twelve years old, I've lost my uncle Frank and aunt Paula (Mindy, Michael, and Matthew's parents - my mom's sister and brother-in-law with whom I pretty much grew up); my grandmother (my mom's mom); my grandfather and uncle (my dad's step-dad and brother - who, incidentally, also died from a ruptured cranial aneurysm); and my dad. Oh, there've been lots of others, but these were the close ones.
If you've ever wondered where I get my musical talent and stubbornness - that's my mom. But the way I sit, my neck, my tendency to be a ham, my loudness, and my (seeming) self-confidence - that's all dad. He gave me a lot. He loved me and brother, Richard, almost as much as he loved mom. He was kind, dear, funny (in a stupid kind of way), honest, and caring. He was a pretty cool guy who knew how to make a really bad joke at a really wrong time. There aren't many people that disliked him. I miss him very much.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
On Vocabulary
It all started long ago.
You see, I was a geek; a nerd; a big ol' dweeb. Surprised? I know, who'd 'a thunk it? OK, so I'm still a geek; not really a nerd; couldn't really tell you what a dweeb is.
Well, there I was. Short, big ol' glasses (it was the late 70s!), couldn't catch a ball, liked to sing - you get the idea. What was I gonna do? I really liked girls and I had no way of getting their interest. Yeah, I was one of the boys who had his first crush in 1st grade. Her name was Beth - a Jehovah's Witness actually ... well, her mom was, anyway - and she was really cute. So how do I get to know her? What about Jennifer in 2nd grade? Lisa in 3rd and 4th?
To really understand things, you have to know my cousin Matthew. Although I have an older brother, he's as odd as I am and we really always got along. My cousin, Matt, was different, though. He and I are the same age and we often went to the same school. We were as close as brothers - but as opposite as was possible. Those balls I couldn't catch? He threw them.
So, around this time I learned to really enjoy reading. A lot. That's when I made the decision - I'd learn every English word every created. I'd know every single word in the language and be able to use it. You can imagine how many people I annoyed. Words stick with me for a while. It's a process:
1. Hear or read the word. Just the other day I heard a word from a book that Amanda's reading for a recording project.
2. Discuss the word with a bunch of people who may or may not know what it means or how it's used. (We did this at the Elend's house while celebrating Amanda's birthday).
3. Try, but fail, to incorporate word into everyday use. This usually fails because my memory is a bit of a prankster. It actually waits around until it senses that I'd really like to use a particular word or reference a particular person or idea and then pulls the rug out from under me. (Actually, I can't remember the word I heard - seriously.)
4. Over-use the word. You see, once I've forgotten the word a couple of times I'll go re-commit it to memory and start using it right away - you know, so that my mind is used to the word when I really need it.
5. It has entered my personal lexicon; I can now go forth and annoy (wasn't that one of Christ's commandments?).
It's not really my fault. It developed as a defense mechanism. Matt used to make fun of me for always using big words. But I like them. They say a lot in a little space. Obviously, if you read my blog, you know that I have a small cadre of words I can call upon for all uses (really is definitely one of those words - it gets way overused in my life - so do very and so). But every now and then I'll throw in a word not many people know. I'm sure it's tres annoying.
So, if you're ever hangin' around me and hear one of those words, just take it in stride. Or ask me about it. I will then commence boring you with the etymology of a word you probably couldn't care less about.
I still don't think I'm a dweeb, though
You see, I was a geek; a nerd; a big ol' dweeb. Surprised? I know, who'd 'a thunk it? OK, so I'm still a geek; not really a nerd; couldn't really tell you what a dweeb is.
Well, there I was. Short, big ol' glasses (it was the late 70s!), couldn't catch a ball, liked to sing - you get the idea. What was I gonna do? I really liked girls and I had no way of getting their interest. Yeah, I was one of the boys who had his first crush in 1st grade. Her name was Beth - a Jehovah's Witness actually ... well, her mom was, anyway - and she was really cute. So how do I get to know her? What about Jennifer in 2nd grade? Lisa in 3rd and 4th?
To really understand things, you have to know my cousin Matthew. Although I have an older brother, he's as odd as I am and we really always got along. My cousin, Matt, was different, though. He and I are the same age and we often went to the same school. We were as close as brothers - but as opposite as was possible. Those balls I couldn't catch? He threw them.
So, around this time I learned to really enjoy reading. A lot. That's when I made the decision - I'd learn every English word every created. I'd know every single word in the language and be able to use it. You can imagine how many people I annoyed. Words stick with me for a while. It's a process:
1. Hear or read the word. Just the other day I heard a word from a book that Amanda's reading for a recording project.
2. Discuss the word with a bunch of people who may or may not know what it means or how it's used. (We did this at the Elend's house while celebrating Amanda's birthday).
3. Try, but fail, to incorporate word into everyday use. This usually fails because my memory is a bit of a prankster. It actually waits around until it senses that I'd really like to use a particular word or reference a particular person or idea and then pulls the rug out from under me. (Actually, I can't remember the word I heard - seriously.)
4. Over-use the word. You see, once I've forgotten the word a couple of times I'll go re-commit it to memory and start using it right away - you know, so that my mind is used to the word when I really need it.
5. It has entered my personal lexicon; I can now go forth and annoy (wasn't that one of Christ's commandments?).
It's not really my fault. It developed as a defense mechanism. Matt used to make fun of me for always using big words. But I like them. They say a lot in a little space. Obviously, if you read my blog, you know that I have a small cadre of words I can call upon for all uses (really is definitely one of those words - it gets way overused in my life - so do very and so). But every now and then I'll throw in a word not many people know. I'm sure it's tres annoying.
So, if you're ever hangin' around me and hear one of those words, just take it in stride. Or ask me about it. I will then commence boring you with the etymology of a word you probably couldn't care less about.
I still don't think I'm a dweeb, though
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
On Black. White.
FX has had some pretty kickass TV recently. First, if you haven't caught it, run out and get the first season of 30 Days on DVD. The second season just ended and isn't available, yet, but the first season will get you started. If you don't know, 30 Days was created by Morgan Spurlock of Super Size Me fame. Like Super Size Me, Morgan gets people to move out of their comfort zones for 30 days. Episodes have included 30 days in jail (Morgan himself); an evangelical Christian living with an Islamic family in Dearborn, Michigan; an American whose job was outsourced living in India to do that job; a Texas border Minuteman living with a family of illegal Mexican immigrants; you get the idea. The beauty of this show is that the results are as surprising to the viewer as they obviously are to the participants. In each episode, both parties really do seem to grow a little and understand a part of humanity that they were willing to villify before things got started. The Minuteman living with the Mexicans was a particularly touching episode.
The other great series is Black. White., a six episode series produced by Ice Cube in which a black family and a white family live with each other for six weeks. Cool, huh? But wait, there's more! Each member of each family spends a certain amount of time in professionally done makeup as the other race! Cultures clash, ideologies are shattered. My favorite part of this show was, as we should probably expect, most of the participants were unable to look too far beyond their own, unique outlook. As a matter of fact, it was the kids who provided the real hope. The white girl, Rose, spent time in a slam poetry class with black kids. Her arc is amazing. She struggles to fit in while not revealing that she's actually a white poser. The other kid, Nick, is black and, according to his parents, listless. His mother and father, Renee and Brian, can't stand the fact that race is not a major issue for him. They want him to have an appreciation for the struggle the black man has faced over the past 300 years. Although I understand this desire, I have to wonder if it's the best thing. I mean, the kid literally didn't give a shit about race! At some level isn't that a good thing? Isn't that the ultimate aim? Well, perhaps not. At any rate, I learned a lot from the series. Most optimistically, I learned that younger people, if the two sampled on the show are any indication, are closer to bridging the gap than their parents could ever be (the mother of the white girl, Carmen, had her heart in the right place, but she approached everything with such startling ignorance that it cancelled out any good that may have come from it).
Anyway, check 'em out. This is the form of reality television that really shines. I guess I'm a sucker for social experiments.
The other great series is Black. White., a six episode series produced by Ice Cube in which a black family and a white family live with each other for six weeks. Cool, huh? But wait, there's more! Each member of each family spends a certain amount of time in professionally done makeup as the other race! Cultures clash, ideologies are shattered. My favorite part of this show was, as we should probably expect, most of the participants were unable to look too far beyond their own, unique outlook. As a matter of fact, it was the kids who provided the real hope. The white girl, Rose, spent time in a slam poetry class with black kids. Her arc is amazing. She struggles to fit in while not revealing that she's actually a white poser. The other kid, Nick, is black and, according to his parents, listless. His mother and father, Renee and Brian, can't stand the fact that race is not a major issue for him. They want him to have an appreciation for the struggle the black man has faced over the past 300 years. Although I understand this desire, I have to wonder if it's the best thing. I mean, the kid literally didn't give a shit about race! At some level isn't that a good thing? Isn't that the ultimate aim? Well, perhaps not. At any rate, I learned a lot from the series. Most optimistically, I learned that younger people, if the two sampled on the show are any indication, are closer to bridging the gap than their parents could ever be (the mother of the white girl, Carmen, had her heart in the right place, but she approached everything with such startling ignorance that it cancelled out any good that may have come from it).
Anyway, check 'em out. This is the form of reality television that really shines. I guess I'm a sucker for social experiments.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
On Theater Sound
Finally!
So, now that our production of City of Angels has opened and is running, I can take a few moments to discuss the most difficult aspect of that effort (and, possibly, any other musical theater effort) - sound.
Sets, costumes, props, lights, choreography, we've pretty much got all these things figured out. But sound is a different issue. There are two major issues here. The first is what, exactly, an audience expects and requires in a live theater setting and the second is the equipment required to give it to them.
Sound has always been a difficulty for live theater. The Greeks used to build amphitheaters near natural rock formations that they had found which naturally amplified the human voice. When Jesus delivered the Sermon on the Mount, he was standing at the apex of a natural bowl formed by a ridge and a valley which allowed his voice to carry to thousands.
In Europe and America, as opera led the day, the orchestra was sunk as many as 12 feet into a pit in front of the stage and the audience was tiered in mezzanines and balconies to keep them close enough to the stage to hear. Meanwhile, opera performers studied the science and art of making their voices carry to thousands of people (an unnatural sound, to many ears).
As the twentieth century turned, so did the ability to artificially amplify and record sound. Valentino and Swanson lost their jobs because they didn't "sound" like actors, the last castrati was preserved on vinyl, Callas could be heard in every living room, and George Martin made sure that our right ears heard Lennon while our left heard McCartney.
In the twenty-first century, sound is a mega-millions industry. Not a single portion of our lives isn't saturated by recorded sound that's mixed and prepared to within an inch of its existence. Extremely powerful electronic and digital tools for manipulating sound are available cheaply and widely. Hell, most podcasts are mixed and mastered professionally.
And then there's live theater. Theater, it seems, simply cannot keep up. Audiences have literally grown up with mixed and mastered sound - delivering to them exactly what the creator wants them to hear at every second - in every part of their lives. TV, movies, radio, CDs, video games, elevators, dentist waiting rooms - it's all filled with perfectly mixed sound. Musical theater, it seems, cannot compete. Opera is fine. Take a bunch of really loud singers and throw in a super-scripter, and you're all set. Plays are fine, too. After all, any music or "noises off" are simply turned down by the sound op so as not to get in the way of the actors. But musical theater has a unique problem. How do we get audiences to hear lyrics that sound as clear and close as the Black-Eyed Peas did in the car while maintaining that live, natural sound that theater relies upon to reach its audience. The answer: no one has any fucking clue.
Here's my theory. An audience enters into a sort of contract with the creators and performers of a theater piece. The audience agrees to work a little harder to hear and see than they do at home while watching reruns of Will and Grace. They agree to pay a little closer attention to the dialogue and lyrics beacuse they understand that theater is an all together separate medium from the electronic ones. They know they won't see real trees. They know the phone isn't really ringing. They know that when a character has left the stage, he's actually just hanging out in a room with green walls. Suspension of disbelief. Oh, they'll suspend their disbelief for movies and TV, too, but they may not be willing to work quite as hard to follow and understand as they do in a live theater. They don't have to - Schumacher has made sure that his 64+ tracks of audio are mixed so that every single sound and word is heard perfectly. They get it - they know that each performance of a piece is special because of the unique combination of cast and audience. There's electricity, chemistry (call it what you will). Al Pacino may be incredible in Dog Day Afternoon, but he's the same incredible every time it's shown. Put him on stage, though, and from night to night, each audience experiences something slightly different - Tuesday he's on fire, Wednesday he's slightly off, Thursday he's frightening, etc.
So, how do we do it? How do we make sure the audience hears exatly what we want? How do we make sure that the trumpets can rip, that the bass and drums can groove with power, and that the leading lady can be heard as she quietly descends into a breakdown? There's choir mics - little condensors that hang from the grid above and pick up a wide range of sound (including dialogue, foot-stomping, curtain rails being pulled, and sets being wheeled on and off). There's lavs (lavalier, or body mics - mics that are worn by each actor - that send their information to the sound board not via wire but via radio signal). There's handheld mics (these are usable only for rock-concert-like settings). There's floor mics (like choir mics, they're small condensors placed at the foot of the stage - a problem because the actors tend to speak and sing out to the audience rather than down to the floor). But that's not all. It's not enough to pick up the sounds being made on the stage. Now you have to amplify them and send them to the audience. This is where theater enters "sound hell":
So, do you have a video camera? Go get it. Great. Now, plug it into the nearest TV. Got it? Great. Turn it on and aim it at the TV. Trippin', right? that's called feedback, or a video loop. It's like standing between two mirrors. Each image is feeding into the next creating an unending loop of image after image. Well, it turns out, sound meas loops, too. Get the mic too close to the speaker and you'll make a loop. You've heard it before. Every sappy movie ever made that has a scene with our hero standing uncomfortably at a mic and revealing to us what he's learned and how he's growm has a moment of feedback. It's that high-pitched squeal. So, now you've got a bunch of mics on the stage - if you're using choir mics or floor mics it's going to be worse - and speakers nearby aimed at the audience. Now, what's your theater space made of? If it's got hard walls (brick, concrete, panelling) then it has the potential to magnify the feedback loop greatly.
Anyway, I'm sick of that. But I think you get the idea. Now, don't get me wrong, it's all surmountable. But a theater's going to need to invest a lot of money, effort, and time into getting things right. And, to make things even more difficult, things are going to change from production to production. Check out this article about a theater that finally got it right - and then look at how much it cost:
http://www.meyersound.com/markets/theatre/circus.htm
So, now that our production of City of Angels has opened and is running, I can take a few moments to discuss the most difficult aspect of that effort (and, possibly, any other musical theater effort) - sound.
Sets, costumes, props, lights, choreography, we've pretty much got all these things figured out. But sound is a different issue. There are two major issues here. The first is what, exactly, an audience expects and requires in a live theater setting and the second is the equipment required to give it to them.
Sound has always been a difficulty for live theater. The Greeks used to build amphitheaters near natural rock formations that they had found which naturally amplified the human voice. When Jesus delivered the Sermon on the Mount, he was standing at the apex of a natural bowl formed by a ridge and a valley which allowed his voice to carry to thousands.
In Europe and America, as opera led the day, the orchestra was sunk as many as 12 feet into a pit in front of the stage and the audience was tiered in mezzanines and balconies to keep them close enough to the stage to hear. Meanwhile, opera performers studied the science and art of making their voices carry to thousands of people (an unnatural sound, to many ears).
As the twentieth century turned, so did the ability to artificially amplify and record sound. Valentino and Swanson lost their jobs because they didn't "sound" like actors, the last castrati was preserved on vinyl, Callas could be heard in every living room, and George Martin made sure that our right ears heard Lennon while our left heard McCartney.
In the twenty-first century, sound is a mega-millions industry. Not a single portion of our lives isn't saturated by recorded sound that's mixed and prepared to within an inch of its existence. Extremely powerful electronic and digital tools for manipulating sound are available cheaply and widely. Hell, most podcasts are mixed and mastered professionally.
And then there's live theater. Theater, it seems, simply cannot keep up. Audiences have literally grown up with mixed and mastered sound - delivering to them exactly what the creator wants them to hear at every second - in every part of their lives. TV, movies, radio, CDs, video games, elevators, dentist waiting rooms - it's all filled with perfectly mixed sound. Musical theater, it seems, cannot compete. Opera is fine. Take a bunch of really loud singers and throw in a super-scripter, and you're all set. Plays are fine, too. After all, any music or "noises off" are simply turned down by the sound op so as not to get in the way of the actors. But musical theater has a unique problem. How do we get audiences to hear lyrics that sound as clear and close as the Black-Eyed Peas did in the car while maintaining that live, natural sound that theater relies upon to reach its audience. The answer: no one has any fucking clue.
Here's my theory. An audience enters into a sort of contract with the creators and performers of a theater piece. The audience agrees to work a little harder to hear and see than they do at home while watching reruns of Will and Grace. They agree to pay a little closer attention to the dialogue and lyrics beacuse they understand that theater is an all together separate medium from the electronic ones. They know they won't see real trees. They know the phone isn't really ringing. They know that when a character has left the stage, he's actually just hanging out in a room with green walls. Suspension of disbelief. Oh, they'll suspend their disbelief for movies and TV, too, but they may not be willing to work quite as hard to follow and understand as they do in a live theater. They don't have to - Schumacher has made sure that his 64+ tracks of audio are mixed so that every single sound and word is heard perfectly. They get it - they know that each performance of a piece is special because of the unique combination of cast and audience. There's electricity, chemistry (call it what you will). Al Pacino may be incredible in Dog Day Afternoon, but he's the same incredible every time it's shown. Put him on stage, though, and from night to night, each audience experiences something slightly different - Tuesday he's on fire, Wednesday he's slightly off, Thursday he's frightening, etc.
So, how do we do it? How do we make sure the audience hears exatly what we want? How do we make sure that the trumpets can rip, that the bass and drums can groove with power, and that the leading lady can be heard as she quietly descends into a breakdown? There's choir mics - little condensors that hang from the grid above and pick up a wide range of sound (including dialogue, foot-stomping, curtain rails being pulled, and sets being wheeled on and off). There's lavs (lavalier, or body mics - mics that are worn by each actor - that send their information to the sound board not via wire but via radio signal). There's handheld mics (these are usable only for rock-concert-like settings). There's floor mics (like choir mics, they're small condensors placed at the foot of the stage - a problem because the actors tend to speak and sing out to the audience rather than down to the floor). But that's not all. It's not enough to pick up the sounds being made on the stage. Now you have to amplify them and send them to the audience. This is where theater enters "sound hell":
So, do you have a video camera? Go get it. Great. Now, plug it into the nearest TV. Got it? Great. Turn it on and aim it at the TV. Trippin', right? that's called feedback, or a video loop. It's like standing between two mirrors. Each image is feeding into the next creating an unending loop of image after image. Well, it turns out, sound meas loops, too. Get the mic too close to the speaker and you'll make a loop. You've heard it before. Every sappy movie ever made that has a scene with our hero standing uncomfortably at a mic and revealing to us what he's learned and how he's growm has a moment of feedback. It's that high-pitched squeal. So, now you've got a bunch of mics on the stage - if you're using choir mics or floor mics it's going to be worse - and speakers nearby aimed at the audience. Now, what's your theater space made of? If it's got hard walls (brick, concrete, panelling) then it has the potential to magnify the feedback loop greatly.
Anyway, I'm sick of that. But I think you get the idea. Now, don't get me wrong, it's all surmountable. But a theater's going to need to invest a lot of money, effort, and time into getting things right. And, to make things even more difficult, things are going to change from production to production. Check out this article about a theater that finally got it right - and then look at how much it cost:
http://www.meyersound.com/markets/theatre/circus.htm
Saturday, August 26, 2006
On Christian Industry
OK, think back to first grade. It's November and you're playing an Indian in a short play commemmorating Thanksgiving. Opposite you, most likely, are boys with buckles on their hats and girls with bonnets. These are hardy Christians. They've escaped persecution in their own land and have made the voyage prepared to work hard and go to church. These are the Puritans. Oh, we know all about them. Tough, hardy stock willing to work 20 hours a day to provide for their families and honor their god. That's cool. They're working to honor a biblical commandment to be industrious (this commandment, by the way, doesn't actually exist in the Bible, but let's not split hairs).
Now let's fast forward 400 years. Christians are working just as hard. They remain industrious. This industry, however, might surprise you. Did you know you can buy hundreds of Christian fiction and non-fiction titles at your local Christian bookstore? (Full disclosure: I actually worked in a Christian bookstore for two years when I was a young teenager.) Also at this bookstore you'll find exactly the Bible you're looking for. There are literally thousands of options. First, there are the translations (the actual text, of course, is the definition of public domain - to actually make some money, publishers have copyrighted their own translations).
You've got your KJV, your NIV, your RSV, your ASV, your Darby, your LB, your NEB, your NEV - oh, you get the idea. Next you have your bindings: soft or hard? Leather or cardboard? With or without a cover? Does your cover have a notepad? A pen and highlighter holder? Maybe it's a Precious Moments Bible (their figurines have been a Christian bookstore staple since the mid 1980s). Once again, you get the idea.
OK, we've got books to read. How about some music? Brother-in-Christ, you're in luck. We happen to have literally hundreds of thousands of titles for you. There's the "inspirational" market. These are recordings of songs you might sing at your local evangelical church. As a matter of fact, many of these recordings are tied to multi-media packages sold to churches to aid in weekly praise and worship. For only $125 your church group gets the rights, the music, the lyric sheets, and the PowerPoint slides for all twenty songs on this recording. Yep, you heard me right. If you attend a modern, evangelical church that has dropped hymns in favor of praise choruses, they're dropping a dime every time they sing "Our God is an Awesome God" (to SONY, incidentally - yep, SONY makes a killing every Sunday!). There's the "adult/contemporary" market. This healthy market (think hundreds of millions annually) serves the soccer moms, the dads who can't quite get away with being hip, and the church secretaries who would be advised to keep their hair up. Then, there's the "youth/rock/alternative/hip-hop/rap" market. We've now moved into the realm of billions of dollars a year. This is an industry that rivals many secular industries. Recordings, concerts, T-shirts, move tie-ins, radio rotation, you name it, they're selling it. And don't be mislead. These aren't acts that are playing the local Hyatt (or in this case, the local Our Mother of Grace). They're playing stadiums - really! Some have even crossed over (Amy Grant, Jars of Clay).
OK, what about movies? Well, although there has been a Christian movie industry for over thirty years, now, it wasn't really until the last couple of years that it had a stride to hit. Some heavy hitters have been the Left Behind series (starring a still-24-years-old-looking Kirk Cameron), The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe (this one was thinly veiled; although distributed by Disney, it was produced by Walden Media, a shill for the Christian industry for the last decade), and, of course, the behemoth that was The Passion of the Christ. Bringing in hundreds of millions of dollars, the Christian movie industry is becoming a heavy hitter.
There's more. Toys ("Armor of God" pajamas - complete with plastic, two-edged sword), TV (Pax network), clothing, furniture, etc. So, what's my beef here? What's the problem with all this? It's disingenuous; it's a market; it's no more holy than porn or plastic surgery. Many people aren't aware (including MANY Christians) that their money is not going to some worthy cause. It's actually going to SONY, Paramount, Vivendi, Columbia, and Disney (the Family Channel? Oy!). That $20 you spent for little Jimmy to have a cross-shaped nightlight? It just went to KaBee Toys. When your church sponsored mass-viewings of The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe? Yeah ... Disney (you remember Disney, don't you? Your Southern Baptist brethren have been boycotting them for twenty years over decency issues).
I have no problem with Christians and their churches succeeding and thriving. That's wonderful, well, at least it's fair and unobjectionable. But, just because there's a cross on the record label's logo doesn't mean that your money is supporting local Christian charities. At least in the secular world, there's no misunderstanding. We know who is getting our money and we're fine with that. Christians' money is going to the same place, they just don't know it. Christians are, by and large, buying a bill of Good Books.
Now let's fast forward 400 years. Christians are working just as hard. They remain industrious. This industry, however, might surprise you. Did you know you can buy hundreds of Christian fiction and non-fiction titles at your local Christian bookstore? (Full disclosure: I actually worked in a Christian bookstore for two years when I was a young teenager.) Also at this bookstore you'll find exactly the Bible you're looking for. There are literally thousands of options. First, there are the translations (the actual text, of course, is the definition of public domain - to actually make some money, publishers have copyrighted their own translations).
You've got your KJV, your NIV, your RSV, your ASV, your Darby, your LB, your NEB, your NEV - oh, you get the idea. Next you have your bindings: soft or hard? Leather or cardboard? With or without a cover? Does your cover have a notepad? A pen and highlighter holder? Maybe it's a Precious Moments Bible (their figurines have been a Christian bookstore staple since the mid 1980s). Once again, you get the idea.
OK, we've got books to read. How about some music? Brother-in-Christ, you're in luck. We happen to have literally hundreds of thousands of titles for you. There's the "inspirational" market. These are recordings of songs you might sing at your local evangelical church. As a matter of fact, many of these recordings are tied to multi-media packages sold to churches to aid in weekly praise and worship. For only $125 your church group gets the rights, the music, the lyric sheets, and the PowerPoint slides for all twenty songs on this recording. Yep, you heard me right. If you attend a modern, evangelical church that has dropped hymns in favor of praise choruses, they're dropping a dime every time they sing "Our God is an Awesome God" (to SONY, incidentally - yep, SONY makes a killing every Sunday!). There's the "adult/contemporary" market. This healthy market (think hundreds of millions annually) serves the soccer moms, the dads who can't quite get away with being hip, and the church secretaries who would be advised to keep their hair up. Then, there's the "youth/rock/alternative/hip-hop/rap" market. We've now moved into the realm of billions of dollars a year. This is an industry that rivals many secular industries. Recordings, concerts, T-shirts, move tie-ins, radio rotation, you name it, they're selling it. And don't be mislead. These aren't acts that are playing the local Hyatt (or in this case, the local Our Mother of Grace). They're playing stadiums - really! Some have even crossed over (Amy Grant, Jars of Clay).
OK, what about movies? Well, although there has been a Christian movie industry for over thirty years, now, it wasn't really until the last couple of years that it had a stride to hit. Some heavy hitters have been the Left Behind series (starring a still-24-years-old-looking Kirk Cameron), The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe (this one was thinly veiled; although distributed by Disney, it was produced by Walden Media, a shill for the Christian industry for the last decade), and, of course, the behemoth that was The Passion of the Christ. Bringing in hundreds of millions of dollars, the Christian movie industry is becoming a heavy hitter.
There's more. Toys ("Armor of God" pajamas - complete with plastic, two-edged sword), TV (Pax network), clothing, furniture, etc. So, what's my beef here? What's the problem with all this? It's disingenuous; it's a market; it's no more holy than porn or plastic surgery. Many people aren't aware (including MANY Christians) that their money is not going to some worthy cause. It's actually going to SONY, Paramount, Vivendi, Columbia, and Disney (the Family Channel? Oy!). That $20 you spent for little Jimmy to have a cross-shaped nightlight? It just went to KaBee Toys. When your church sponsored mass-viewings of The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe? Yeah ... Disney (you remember Disney, don't you? Your Southern Baptist brethren have been boycotting them for twenty years over decency issues).
I have no problem with Christians and their churches succeeding and thriving. That's wonderful, well, at least it's fair and unobjectionable. But, just because there's a cross on the record label's logo doesn't mean that your money is supporting local Christian charities. At least in the secular world, there's no misunderstanding. We know who is getting our money and we're fine with that. Christians' money is going to the same place, they just don't know it. Christians are, by and large, buying a bill of Good Books.
Friday, August 25, 2006
On Fantasy and Sci Fi
Yep. I'm one of those weird people. I like to read about Orcs with maces,unwitting Princes-to-be with swords, and wizards with wands. I enjoy characters with names such as Elene, Aslan, and Aydrian from places such as Calormen, Carona, and Tar Valon. I'm a fantasy geek. I enjoy Sci Fi, too, but fantasy is my real love. I read multiple-volume stories such as The Chronicles of Narnia (7 books) and The Wheel of Time (12!). I watch movies such as Dragon Sword and The Princess Bride. I watch TV shows such as Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Stargate SG1. I play computer games such as Half Life 2 and Age of Mythology.
It all started in 3rd grade. A teacher read C. S. Lewis' The Magician's Nephew, the 6th book of The Chronicles of Narnia (which tells the story of Narnia's creation which is why many people read it first). Every second day or so she would read another chapter. I got totally caught up. Diggory and Polly were in the middle of a world where animals talked, iron grew from trees, and apples had healing qualities. It was amazing. My parents quickly bought me the whole series and I devoured it. To this day, I re-read each one every couple of years. Since then I've enjoyed lots of major epics like Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time, R. A. Salvatore's The Demonwars Saga, and, of course, Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings and Rowling's Harry Potter.
So, what is it? Why am I so drawn to these stories that seem so far removed from reality? Well, the answer is partly in that question. I spend all day every day in reality. Sometimes I enjoy escaping. Fantasy writers tend to draw whole other worlds and civilizations. The good ones people these worlds with cultures, races, politics, and histories. These places can become quite alluring. Most fantasy is multi-volume due to its innate epic nature. This works because a good fantasy world is one to which I always want to return. Since I was a kid - and even now - I want to magically go to Narnia or Hogwarts. I want to see places like Cair Paravel or the Lone Islands.
But there's more than just escape. Good fantasy is like a mirror held up to our own world. With deep politics, religion, war, and cultures, fantasy can mimic modern problems and situations. If you think about it, St-Mere-Abelle is no more exotic sounding and seeming than Timbuktu or Siberia. The Red Dwarfs are just as intriguing as Geisha. The idea that Rand has been destined since he was born to save the human race is easily as fascinating as the Passion.
So fantasy writers have an opportunity to draw comparisons to the real world. Some, like Lewis, actually use allegory. By now, most people are aware that Aslan's lordship and sacrifice is analogous with Jesus' death and resurrection. Most writers aren't quite so heavy-handed. Nonetheless, parallels can be drawn between most of these stories and the world in which we live.
I have found that many fantasy fans are also history buffs. There seems to be some sort of affinity among us with anthropology and sociology. I've learned more about world history and conflict from fantasy books than I ever did from a history class!
Whatever it is, all I really know is that worlds are created that I want to revisit many times. I know that a book is really good when I want to read it again. And I do - I've re-read many, many of my favorites.
So, here is my humble list of favorites:
BOOKS:
The Chronicles of Narnia, C. S. Lewis
The Harry Potter series, J. K. Rowling (book 7 can't come fast enough!)
The Wheel of Time, Robert Jordan (I started reading these in 1994 and I'm waiting for the final book, Book 12, to come out)
The Demonwars Saga, R. A. Salvatore
The Godhead Trilogy, James Morrow
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, J. R. R. Tolkien
MOVIES:
Willow
Close Encounters of the Third Kind
Star Wars (the original trilogy, of course)
Time Bandits
Back to the Future trilogy
Alien and Aliens
Hook
The Matrix
TV:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Angel
Stargate SG1
Stargate Atlantis
Battlestar Gallactica (the new one, not the original or the one from the 80s)
Smallville
COMPUTER GAMES:
Civilization (2, 3, and 4)
Age of Empires
Age of Mythology
Half Life (1 and 2)
Jedi Knight
It all started in 3rd grade. A teacher read C. S. Lewis' The Magician's Nephew, the 6th book of The Chronicles of Narnia (which tells the story of Narnia's creation which is why many people read it first). Every second day or so she would read another chapter. I got totally caught up. Diggory and Polly were in the middle of a world where animals talked, iron grew from trees, and apples had healing qualities. It was amazing. My parents quickly bought me the whole series and I devoured it. To this day, I re-read each one every couple of years. Since then I've enjoyed lots of major epics like Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time, R. A. Salvatore's The Demonwars Saga, and, of course, Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings and Rowling's Harry Potter.
So, what is it? Why am I so drawn to these stories that seem so far removed from reality? Well, the answer is partly in that question. I spend all day every day in reality. Sometimes I enjoy escaping. Fantasy writers tend to draw whole other worlds and civilizations. The good ones people these worlds with cultures, races, politics, and histories. These places can become quite alluring. Most fantasy is multi-volume due to its innate epic nature. This works because a good fantasy world is one to which I always want to return. Since I was a kid - and even now - I want to magically go to Narnia or Hogwarts. I want to see places like Cair Paravel or the Lone Islands.
But there's more than just escape. Good fantasy is like a mirror held up to our own world. With deep politics, religion, war, and cultures, fantasy can mimic modern problems and situations. If you think about it, St-Mere-Abelle is no more exotic sounding and seeming than Timbuktu or Siberia. The Red Dwarfs are just as intriguing as Geisha. The idea that Rand has been destined since he was born to save the human race is easily as fascinating as the Passion.
So fantasy writers have an opportunity to draw comparisons to the real world. Some, like Lewis, actually use allegory. By now, most people are aware that Aslan's lordship and sacrifice is analogous with Jesus' death and resurrection. Most writers aren't quite so heavy-handed. Nonetheless, parallels can be drawn between most of these stories and the world in which we live.
I have found that many fantasy fans are also history buffs. There seems to be some sort of affinity among us with anthropology and sociology. I've learned more about world history and conflict from fantasy books than I ever did from a history class!
Whatever it is, all I really know is that worlds are created that I want to revisit many times. I know that a book is really good when I want to read it again. And I do - I've re-read many, many of my favorites.
So, here is my humble list of favorites:
BOOKS:
The Chronicles of Narnia, C. S. Lewis
The Harry Potter series, J. K. Rowling (book 7 can't come fast enough!)
The Wheel of Time, Robert Jordan (I started reading these in 1994 and I'm waiting for the final book, Book 12, to come out)
The Demonwars Saga, R. A. Salvatore
The Godhead Trilogy, James Morrow
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, J. R. R. Tolkien
MOVIES:
Willow
Close Encounters of the Third Kind
Star Wars (the original trilogy, of course)
Time Bandits
Back to the Future trilogy
Alien and Aliens
Hook
The Matrix
TV:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Angel
Stargate SG1
Stargate Atlantis
Battlestar Gallactica (the new one, not the original or the one from the 80s)
Smallville
COMPUTER GAMES:
Civilization (2, 3, and 4)
Age of Empires
Age of Mythology
Half Life (1 and 2)
Jedi Knight
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
On Hollywood Crushes
Last night, having nothing short to watch on my DVR and knowing that I would still be up for a while, I headed down to our twelve HBO channels to see if anything might be interesting. I found "The Great Outdoors", an 80's comedy with John Candy and Dan Aykroyd. I had forgotten that this movie features an actress most people don't know, Lucy Deakins.
I know her from this movie as well as "The Boy Who Could Fly". I immediately remembered how much of a crush I had on her. So, I thought it might be fun to remember some more. No judging, now, I'm being candid. Crushes are, by definition, silly. And anyone who knows me knows that I can crush pretty hard.
First the heavies. These are the ones for whom I'm entitled a Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card from Amanda: 
Natalie Portman. I mean, come on! What else do I have to say?
Not sure when I first saw her. Before she became really famous, though. Beautiful, cute, smart, talented.
Alyson Hannigan. You know, Band Camp Girl. And, more importantly, Willow! What's not to love? Also beautiful, cute, smart, and talented.
And then there's Amy Acker. I only know her from "Angel", but, man alive! Beautiful, cute, smart, talented (see any pattern, yet? Is it any wonder I got Amanda?) .
There are many others. (What can I say? I've always loved the ladies!) Some from many years ago and some quite current. These are the girls that can get me to sit through a poor movie - multiple times!
Diane Franklin - Best known as Joan of Arc in "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure", but also the French exchange student in "Better Off Dead" with John Cusack. (I'm having trouble uploading any more pictures, for some reason.)
Jennifer Love Hewitt - Yeah, yeah, I know! Not sure when I first saw her. The crush was cemented with a late-90's teen flick called "Can't Hardly Wait".
Alyssa Milano - Major crush during the "Who's the Boss?" years. I actually had her poster on my wall. Not so much anymore, though.
Winona Ryder - Yep. Probably the baddest (as in not crispy clean) of my crushes. Way cool.
Kerri Green - "Lucas" and "The Goonies". Really simple and cute. SIDEBAR: When I was at Gibbs for a semester as a freshman, the girls in band used to call me Lucas because I was so short and insignificant. Yep, that's my life in a nutshell. And you wonder why I love directing so much!
Mary Stuart Masterson - This is one of those that goes in and out. I love her and will watch her again and again in "Heaven Help Us" with Andrew McCarthy but really have no use for her in "Some Kind of Wonderful" with Eric Stoltz.
Meg Ryan - I know she's America's sweetheart and all, but before all that, in "Joe Versus the Volcano", "Innerspace", "Top Gun", "When Harry Met Sally" - absolutely adorable.
So, there you go. As soon as I publish I'll think of five more (oh yeah, there's a whole bunch). Yours?
Thursday, August 10, 2006
On Community and Nationality
When I was in school we'd have pep rallies to get everyone into the spirit before a big game. The mascot came out, our colors were strewn all over the gym, cheerleaders kicked their feet and cartwheeled (my favorite part, of course). But I never really understood it. I didn't get why everyone was so excited - or why we should be. At the time, I thought my lack of understanding was due to my aversion to sports. I didn't care if our soccer team won or lost, so what was there to get excited about? Oh, I'd have fun. I'd play all the ridiculous games during homecoming week. (You know, homecoming is still a concept I don't understand - who the hell is coming home?) Nonethless, I never cared much for our colors, our song, our teams, etc.
As I've gotten older, I find that I'm still ambivolent when it comes to these communities. Whether it's high school or college, or state or nation, I just don't think of myself or others in that way. Here in Florida I know plenty of Gators and plenty of Seminoles. Thery're all really nice people - they even get along. But when the two teams play each other I find myself swimming in a mire of orange & blue and garnet & gold (garnet? wtf?).
This holds over to America as well. I'm an American. And I'm glad I am. Really. But I think I'd be just as glad to be British or French or German. I won't go so far as to say I'd be just as glad to be Vietnamese or Indian because I honestly know so little about their cultures or struggles. All that said, I find myself just as ambivolent on July 4th. It's not that I don't care - I do. But I've never been one to wave a flag or recite a pledge (any more than I recited a creed when I was a Christian). Does this make me a bad American?
My father flew four tours in Vietnam as a helicoptor pilot - hell, it's what ultimately killed him. I should be feverish in my outward devotion to my nation, shouldn't I? But I'm not.
I think this is why I tend to be so against war. To personally support a war, one has to truly care about the outcome. I care, but not about that. I'm always that silly guy that feels sorry for the losers. I feel as much pain toward our suffering soldiers as I do toward theirs. It's all sad in my view.
I understand that we had to fight to win our nationhood. I know that we've had to fight to keep it. I get it. I know we must defend ourselves - that's one of the main reasons we pay taxes. Fine. But I don't feel a surge of patriotic pride when I see pictures of our soldiers on the ground in some faraway place.
My ultimate point is this: aren't we all just people? Does it really matter that I was born inside one set of borders and someone else within another? Are we really the greatest nation on the planet? What does that even mean?
I understand that there are people living under dictatorships and zealous regimes. And I'm sorry that they are. But that's not what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about the apparent human need to belong to a community (ok, fine) and then zealously support that community (um, not so sure).
My friend, Jay, made a point in a comment to the post titled "On Faith". He said that he and Vicki had dicussed the fact that community theater feels a lot like a church community. I think that's really interesting. And I think I agree. So, I'm not just a member of the American community, but a member of the community theater community as well. Cool. But if it ever comes to oath-saying and flag-waving I'll probably bow out. I just don't see why the hell it matters which team I'm on. Who really cares other than the others on the same team?
As I've gotten older, I find that I'm still ambivolent when it comes to these communities. Whether it's high school or college, or state or nation, I just don't think of myself or others in that way. Here in Florida I know plenty of Gators and plenty of Seminoles. Thery're all really nice people - they even get along. But when the two teams play each other I find myself swimming in a mire of orange & blue and garnet & gold (garnet? wtf?).
This holds over to America as well. I'm an American. And I'm glad I am. Really. But I think I'd be just as glad to be British or French or German. I won't go so far as to say I'd be just as glad to be Vietnamese or Indian because I honestly know so little about their cultures or struggles. All that said, I find myself just as ambivolent on July 4th. It's not that I don't care - I do. But I've never been one to wave a flag or recite a pledge (any more than I recited a creed when I was a Christian). Does this make me a bad American?
My father flew four tours in Vietnam as a helicoptor pilot - hell, it's what ultimately killed him. I should be feverish in my outward devotion to my nation, shouldn't I? But I'm not.
I think this is why I tend to be so against war. To personally support a war, one has to truly care about the outcome. I care, but not about that. I'm always that silly guy that feels sorry for the losers. I feel as much pain toward our suffering soldiers as I do toward theirs. It's all sad in my view.
I understand that we had to fight to win our nationhood. I know that we've had to fight to keep it. I get it. I know we must defend ourselves - that's one of the main reasons we pay taxes. Fine. But I don't feel a surge of patriotic pride when I see pictures of our soldiers on the ground in some faraway place.
My ultimate point is this: aren't we all just people? Does it really matter that I was born inside one set of borders and someone else within another? Are we really the greatest nation on the planet? What does that even mean?
I understand that there are people living under dictatorships and zealous regimes. And I'm sorry that they are. But that's not what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about the apparent human need to belong to a community (ok, fine) and then zealously support that community (um, not so sure).
My friend, Jay, made a point in a comment to the post titled "On Faith". He said that he and Vicki had dicussed the fact that community theater feels a lot like a church community. I think that's really interesting. And I think I agree. So, I'm not just a member of the American community, but a member of the community theater community as well. Cool. But if it ever comes to oath-saying and flag-waving I'll probably bow out. I just don't see why the hell it matters which team I'm on. Who really cares other than the others on the same team?
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
On The War on Terror
War. Spears, arrows, pikes, horses, shields, muskets, artillery, tanks, machine guns, rockets, fighters, bombers, etc. You get it. War has taken the shape of massive armies lined up in massive files facing each other across fields. It's been huge sorties dug in to endless trenches hurling grenades. It's been dogfights in the skies as fighters desperately try to down scores of bombers headed for a single target. It's been small elite forces attacking under cover of night to assassinate a key politician. It's even been small arms fighting in torn up urban areas.
But there's another kind of war. The War on Drugs, the War on Poverty, the War on Illiteracy, and now the War on Terror. In this case, we've always been aware that the term "war" is really a misnomer. Obviously, there will be no smart bombs hurled at the homeless. We won't be sending the 7th Battalion capture the contestants of a spelling bee. We won't be sending ranks of tanks to the shipping lanes of the Gulf. We all get that. We understand that you can't really engage in a war on an ideal. It's impossible.
Our president, however, seems to have missed this day in class. His rhetoric is becoming dangerous because he's essentially mixing metaphors. He's using the real items of war to justify the state of a "war" on an ideal.
Think about it. Are we really ever destined to win the war on poverty? Of course not. The term developed as a figurative call to arms. It's function is to allow us to see a complicated situation in the simplest and most black-and-white manner. If we begin to see ourselves as the good guys and poverty as the bad guys, we can imagine taking up our weapons and marching to victory over the ideal of poverty. Get it? It's imagery.
Now, in the concrete world (as opposed to the abstract) war is something entirely different. There is (arguably) a beginning and an end. There's a way to keep a tally of deaths and injuries, targets eliminated, etc. The Geneva Convention concerns itself with the world-wide rules of concrete war. And here's where the Bush administration isn't playing fair. They're using the trappings of a concrete war as a justification for a figurative one.
Follow me. As the War on Terror (which began, first, as an attack on Afghanistan, continued through the invasion of Iraq, and now includes struggles in both those places as well as innumerable, seemingly unconnected events all over the globe) continues, Bush is using the concrete rules of engagement to justify treatment of prisoners, ownership of non-national infrastructure, and dealings with the press. But it's not a real war! He has said himself that he imagines the War on Terror will never actually end. In this he meant that it's a war on an ideal - a perpetual struggle to eliminate acts of terror (it should be noted that he and his cronies jumped all over John Kerry when he expressed exactly the same sentiment 2 years earlier). So Bush is having his cake and eating it too - and he's succeeding. A majority of Americans are content with the idea that we're at war ... and content that it may last forever!
Bush has successfully blurred the line between literal and figurative war. And those who are suffering are the thousands of prisoners being held without reason until it ends (you see, according to Bush it may never end!), the civilians suffering without infrastructure in Iraq (which is dealing with its own civil war), and Americans living with media which are playing softball so as not to subvert the war effort.
But there's another kind of war. The War on Drugs, the War on Poverty, the War on Illiteracy, and now the War on Terror. In this case, we've always been aware that the term "war" is really a misnomer. Obviously, there will be no smart bombs hurled at the homeless. We won't be sending the 7th Battalion capture the contestants of a spelling bee. We won't be sending ranks of tanks to the shipping lanes of the Gulf. We all get that. We understand that you can't really engage in a war on an ideal. It's impossible.
Our president, however, seems to have missed this day in class. His rhetoric is becoming dangerous because he's essentially mixing metaphors. He's using the real items of war to justify the state of a "war" on an ideal.
Think about it. Are we really ever destined to win the war on poverty? Of course not. The term developed as a figurative call to arms. It's function is to allow us to see a complicated situation in the simplest and most black-and-white manner. If we begin to see ourselves as the good guys and poverty as the bad guys, we can imagine taking up our weapons and marching to victory over the ideal of poverty. Get it? It's imagery.
Now, in the concrete world (as opposed to the abstract) war is something entirely different. There is (arguably) a beginning and an end. There's a way to keep a tally of deaths and injuries, targets eliminated, etc. The Geneva Convention concerns itself with the world-wide rules of concrete war. And here's where the Bush administration isn't playing fair. They're using the trappings of a concrete war as a justification for a figurative one.
Follow me. As the War on Terror (which began, first, as an attack on Afghanistan, continued through the invasion of Iraq, and now includes struggles in both those places as well as innumerable, seemingly unconnected events all over the globe) continues, Bush is using the concrete rules of engagement to justify treatment of prisoners, ownership of non-national infrastructure, and dealings with the press. But it's not a real war! He has said himself that he imagines the War on Terror will never actually end. In this he meant that it's a war on an ideal - a perpetual struggle to eliminate acts of terror (it should be noted that he and his cronies jumped all over John Kerry when he expressed exactly the same sentiment 2 years earlier). So Bush is having his cake and eating it too - and he's succeeding. A majority of Americans are content with the idea that we're at war ... and content that it may last forever!
Bush has successfully blurred the line between literal and figurative war. And those who are suffering are the thousands of prisoners being held without reason until it ends (you see, according to Bush it may never end!), the civilians suffering without infrastructure in Iraq (which is dealing with its own civil war), and Americans living with media which are playing softball so as not to subvert the war effort.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
On Armageddon
Have you seen it yet? It's all over the 24-hour news channels and morning news shows. Folks, hold on to your hats, we may be staring down the barrell of Armageddon.
Armageddon is a hill top where a couple major battles have been fought and, according to Revelation 16:16, the final battle between Christ and the Anti-Christ will be fought. Marks of the Beast, Tribulations, and Raptures are on their way. For those who don't know:
Revelation is the last book of the official Christian Bible. Its author, John, had been exciled to a remote island. It's pretty well accepted that at some point during this time on the island John had a vivid fever dream. This dream, as written down in the Book of Revelation, is a masterpiece of prophecy, codes, number theory, and frightening imagery. Seven scrolls, Seven cups, the mark of the beast (which may not be "666" at all), four horsemen, 7 years of tribulation, 1000 year reign of Christ in New Jerusalem, dogs and cats sleeping together (sorry, that last is Bill Murray from Ghostbusters).
Anyway, I have absolutely no problem with the Book of Revelation. I do have a problem, however, with literalists with no sense of context or perspective.
Stick with me, here. The Jews had known only Roman occupation for a couple hundred years. Like their time in Egypt and the wilderness before, they were homeless and down-trodden. Among the many Messiahs that showed up to shine some light was Jesus. Jesus spent his time healing the sick and turning water into wine. As word spread that he had some miracle cred, lots of Jews began to believe that he might be a genuine Saviour (as in, get us the hell away from these Romans!). Suddenly, Jesus upped the ante. Instead of a kingdom for Jews he started talking about the kingdom of God and heaven. And as if that weren't enough, he started inviting Gentiles (non-Jews) along for the ride. After his death, thousands of Jews and Gentiles were left with only the memory of the man while the world around them still sucked ass (so to speak). Followers were being torured, thrown to lions, crucified, and burned alive. They weren't worrying about their mortgages or what school to send Timmy to. They were fearful for their lives. As the decades rolled on, Paul tried to keep the congregations of believers in all the major cities hopeful. He sent letters to Christians in Corinth, Athens, Thessalonica, etc. It was during this time that John had his fever dream. By using imagery that all these people knew very well from the prophets they'd read all their lives (like Isaiah, Daniel, and Ezekiel), John conjured scenes of hell on earth before depicting heaven on earth. In other words, this apocalypse was not real. It was a study of extreme frustration and extreme hope meant to rally the believers. If someone had told John that 2000 years later literalists would actually be looking up for a glimpse of horsemen or protecting Israel's statehood at any cost just so his prophecy could be fulfilled, he'd have probably fainted (actually, it probably would have been enough to suggest that Israel actually had its own state).
There is no Anti-Christ or Beast. There is no mark. There are no scrolls and no cups. Those earthquakes John talked about? They've been going on steadily for the last couple of milennia. The "wars and rumors of wars"? Well, a common name for World War I at the time was actually Armageddon.
Go ahead, prepare for the end times. But have a little perspective. Heck, it was Jesus himself who said, "no man knows the day or the hour." Jesus' point was not to have a bunch of sheep bleating frightfully while literally waiting to be swept off of their feet (if you don't know anything about the Rapture, go look it up). He was trying to provide hope to a suffering people. He was trying to promote kindness, generosity, and humanity (yes, he really was the ultimate humanist).
And if I hear Falwell or Buchanan vie for Israel's rights one more time I'm gonna scream. Over 1,000 Lebaneze civillians are dead! The Second Coming is simply not a good enough reason to let this continue.
Armageddon is a hill top where a couple major battles have been fought and, according to Revelation 16:16, the final battle between Christ and the Anti-Christ will be fought. Marks of the Beast, Tribulations, and Raptures are on their way. For those who don't know:
Revelation is the last book of the official Christian Bible. Its author, John, had been exciled to a remote island. It's pretty well accepted that at some point during this time on the island John had a vivid fever dream. This dream, as written down in the Book of Revelation, is a masterpiece of prophecy, codes, number theory, and frightening imagery. Seven scrolls, Seven cups, the mark of the beast (which may not be "666" at all), four horsemen, 7 years of tribulation, 1000 year reign of Christ in New Jerusalem, dogs and cats sleeping together (sorry, that last is Bill Murray from Ghostbusters).
Anyway, I have absolutely no problem with the Book of Revelation. I do have a problem, however, with literalists with no sense of context or perspective.
Stick with me, here. The Jews had known only Roman occupation for a couple hundred years. Like their time in Egypt and the wilderness before, they were homeless and down-trodden. Among the many Messiahs that showed up to shine some light was Jesus. Jesus spent his time healing the sick and turning water into wine. As word spread that he had some miracle cred, lots of Jews began to believe that he might be a genuine Saviour (as in, get us the hell away from these Romans!). Suddenly, Jesus upped the ante. Instead of a kingdom for Jews he started talking about the kingdom of God and heaven. And as if that weren't enough, he started inviting Gentiles (non-Jews) along for the ride. After his death, thousands of Jews and Gentiles were left with only the memory of the man while the world around them still sucked ass (so to speak). Followers were being torured, thrown to lions, crucified, and burned alive. They weren't worrying about their mortgages or what school to send Timmy to. They were fearful for their lives. As the decades rolled on, Paul tried to keep the congregations of believers in all the major cities hopeful. He sent letters to Christians in Corinth, Athens, Thessalonica, etc. It was during this time that John had his fever dream. By using imagery that all these people knew very well from the prophets they'd read all their lives (like Isaiah, Daniel, and Ezekiel), John conjured scenes of hell on earth before depicting heaven on earth. In other words, this apocalypse was not real. It was a study of extreme frustration and extreme hope meant to rally the believers. If someone had told John that 2000 years later literalists would actually be looking up for a glimpse of horsemen or protecting Israel's statehood at any cost just so his prophecy could be fulfilled, he'd have probably fainted (actually, it probably would have been enough to suggest that Israel actually had its own state).
There is no Anti-Christ or Beast. There is no mark. There are no scrolls and no cups. Those earthquakes John talked about? They've been going on steadily for the last couple of milennia. The "wars and rumors of wars"? Well, a common name for World War I at the time was actually Armageddon.
Go ahead, prepare for the end times. But have a little perspective. Heck, it was Jesus himself who said, "no man knows the day or the hour." Jesus' point was not to have a bunch of sheep bleating frightfully while literally waiting to be swept off of their feet (if you don't know anything about the Rapture, go look it up). He was trying to provide hope to a suffering people. He was trying to promote kindness, generosity, and humanity (yes, he really was the ultimate humanist).
And if I hear Falwell or Buchanan vie for Israel's rights one more time I'm gonna scream. Over 1,000 Lebaneze civillians are dead! The Second Coming is simply not a good enough reason to let this continue.
Monday, August 07, 2006
On Children
I can't deny it: I was once a child! Yes, my parents like millions of other couples decided to take on the onus of bearing and raising a child. I get it. I know that if they hadn't, I wouldn't be.
Now ...
There are many reasons to decide to have a child - some good, some not so good.
- There's the added tax benefit (not so good - the savings is offset by the costs of diapers, chocolate milk, car keys, and college).
- There's the joy they can bring (good - joy is always good).
- There's saving a marriage (not so good - what an incredible burden for that poor kid).
- There's leaving a legacy (in my opinion, not so good - I just don't get it).
- There's giving a child a sibling (good - two MUST be easier than one).
- There's finding out what he/she would look like (not so good - who cares?).
- There's fulfilling God's commandment to be fruitful and multiply (not so good - mission accomplished, folks; Christianiy is one of the top two in sheer numbers).
- There's natural law (not so good - just 'cause we can...).
There are others, I'm sure. For me, not one of these reasons interests me. I'm 33 and I still just don't care.
There are many reasons not to have a child - some good, some not so good.
- There's the cost (not so good - most parents find a way to make the finances work).
- There's the messiness and smell (good - and, yes, this is a legitimate, honest-to-god reason).
- There's the responsibility (good - way too many people don't consider the responsibility they're undertaking).
- There's the loss of personal time and freedom (not so good - every parent I've ever spoken to has said that they don't mind giving up some selfishness).
- There's the consideration of population (good - we really do seem to be over-populated).
There are others, I'm sure.
So, why don't I want to have a child?
I've pretty much known all of my life that I don't want to be a father. When I was younger, it was easier for my family to figure that my mind would change. As I've gotten older, though, I think they've begun to see that my mind isn't changing. I think they're concerned that I may be being stubborn - that I'm not open to the possibility. In a way, they're right. I constantly re-decide not to have children.
As I talk to others, read, or watch movies and TV, I've noticed that many people, at some point, have a bit of a "eureka moment". You know, Saul's walking down the road and sees a bright light in the sky and God tells him to change his name. It's that moment when they realize that they want to take another (NOT necessarily the next) step on the road of the human condition. That's great - more power to 'em ... but I still don't want kids.
The reasons are many and varied and, like those listed above, some are good and some are not so good. The biggest reason I don't want kids is because I want to continue to be selfish. I want to wake up late in the mornings. I want to spend my extra money on a DVD or a computer game. I want to be able to take a two month job in another state. I want to be able to leave my city and move to another for no really good reason. Also, and this is a big one, too, I don't want the responsibility. The thought of constantly looking out for the safety and well-being of a child is incredibly overwhelming. Sure, I'd be able to. Amanda and I would certainly rise to the challenge. Nonetheless, I choose not to open myself up to those worries and responsibilities. A related reason is money. I make the choice to work in theater and music. These are not industries that provide big wages. At some point, I'd have to give up my livelihood for the good of my family. Also related, I'd have to turn down many out of town jobs and multi-houred projects.
Then there are the social issues. Largest among these is my belief that there are lots of people who have kids who probably shouldn't. There's the obvious teen girls. These poor things get roped into a lifetime of responsibility while hanging their hope chest of dreams on some warty and horny 16-year-old boy. There are couples who don't love each other and have kids to try to make things better. This I can't even imagine. Who in their right mind would think that adding such a large responsibility and such pressure would actually make things better? World population needs are only met by massively industrial agriculture and intense social injustices.
There's more - so much more - that I have to say, but I'm having trouble putting it all together cogently. To pare it down to the basics: I don't want a kid. I never have. Others do and that's great. My mother has said once or twice that when I'm old I may regret this decision - and she's probably right - I've never been good at looking beyond my nose, as she'd say.
So, that's what I have for you. Take it for whatever it may be worth.
Now ...
There are many reasons to decide to have a child - some good, some not so good.
- There's the added tax benefit (not so good - the savings is offset by the costs of diapers, chocolate milk, car keys, and college).
- There's the joy they can bring (good - joy is always good).
- There's saving a marriage (not so good - what an incredible burden for that poor kid).
- There's leaving a legacy (in my opinion, not so good - I just don't get it).
- There's giving a child a sibling (good - two MUST be easier than one).
- There's finding out what he/she would look like (not so good - who cares?).
- There's fulfilling God's commandment to be fruitful and multiply (not so good - mission accomplished, folks; Christianiy is one of the top two in sheer numbers).
- There's natural law (not so good - just 'cause we can...).
There are others, I'm sure. For me, not one of these reasons interests me. I'm 33 and I still just don't care.
There are many reasons not to have a child - some good, some not so good.
- There's the cost (not so good - most parents find a way to make the finances work).
- There's the messiness and smell (good - and, yes, this is a legitimate, honest-to-god reason).
- There's the responsibility (good - way too many people don't consider the responsibility they're undertaking).
- There's the loss of personal time and freedom (not so good - every parent I've ever spoken to has said that they don't mind giving up some selfishness).
- There's the consideration of population (good - we really do seem to be over-populated).
There are others, I'm sure.
So, why don't I want to have a child?
I've pretty much known all of my life that I don't want to be a father. When I was younger, it was easier for my family to figure that my mind would change. As I've gotten older, though, I think they've begun to see that my mind isn't changing. I think they're concerned that I may be being stubborn - that I'm not open to the possibility. In a way, they're right. I constantly re-decide not to have children.
As I talk to others, read, or watch movies and TV, I've noticed that many people, at some point, have a bit of a "eureka moment". You know, Saul's walking down the road and sees a bright light in the sky and God tells him to change his name. It's that moment when they realize that they want to take another (NOT necessarily the next) step on the road of the human condition. That's great - more power to 'em ... but I still don't want kids.
The reasons are many and varied and, like those listed above, some are good and some are not so good. The biggest reason I don't want kids is because I want to continue to be selfish. I want to wake up late in the mornings. I want to spend my extra money on a DVD or a computer game. I want to be able to take a two month job in another state. I want to be able to leave my city and move to another for no really good reason. Also, and this is a big one, too, I don't want the responsibility. The thought of constantly looking out for the safety and well-being of a child is incredibly overwhelming. Sure, I'd be able to. Amanda and I would certainly rise to the challenge. Nonetheless, I choose not to open myself up to those worries and responsibilities. A related reason is money. I make the choice to work in theater and music. These are not industries that provide big wages. At some point, I'd have to give up my livelihood for the good of my family. Also related, I'd have to turn down many out of town jobs and multi-houred projects.
Then there are the social issues. Largest among these is my belief that there are lots of people who have kids who probably shouldn't. There's the obvious teen girls. These poor things get roped into a lifetime of responsibility while hanging their hope chest of dreams on some warty and horny 16-year-old boy. There are couples who don't love each other and have kids to try to make things better. This I can't even imagine. Who in their right mind would think that adding such a large responsibility and such pressure would actually make things better? World population needs are only met by massively industrial agriculture and intense social injustices.
There's more - so much more - that I have to say, but I'm having trouble putting it all together cogently. To pare it down to the basics: I don't want a kid. I never have. Others do and that's great. My mother has said once or twice that when I'm old I may regret this decision - and she's probably right - I've never been good at looking beyond my nose, as she'd say.
So, that's what I have for you. Take it for whatever it may be worth.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
On Faith
Faith is a peculiar and difficult thing. Modern faith operates next to/opposed to modern science and thought. Both seem to be able to swim the crests and dips on the tossed sea of human experience.
Faith for me has a couple of sides. The first side is the one I grew up with. I was born into a pretty typical American Christian household, with a mother and father who closely followed the evangelical Christian faith. (It's important to note that the evangelical versions of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam are essentially a modern, 20th century invention.) As I grew up and became aware of myself and the world around me, I quickly surpassed my parents in my zeal for my faith. This wasn't simply a teen choosing to be a Christian because his parents had. This was true faith - unshakeable and unfaltering. I threw myself into my local church activities and into the study of the bible. I developed meaningful friendships of which Christianity was the central theme. I played, wrote, and, on a couple of occasions, even sermonized. I held positions of leadership in more than one local church.
How, then, did I come to be such a faithless, skeptical person? Two reasons: homosexuality and my father's death.
One of the major tenets of my particular brand of Christianity was the infallible nature of God's word (the bible). Put simply, the bible is the inspired word of God and is therefore as infallible as He is. Sure, it was written and compiled by men, but it was God who made it happen. The extreme result of this belief is an uncomfortably literal translation of the bible. Obviously, one of the many modern issues on which the bible was pretty clear was homosexuality. Certainly, the law (the first bunch of books in the Old Testament) was clear. So, too, was the New Testament. Jesus and Paul both referred to the sinfulness of homosexuality. This wasn't a problem as I was growing up because I understood that a homosexual isn't born with those tendencies but, for lack of a better term, chooses them. As I got closer to more friends in theater, however, things became difficult. A few key conversations with some trusted gay friends began to convince me that homosexuals have no choice in their lifestyle - except to embrace who they naturally are or spend a lifetime denying a very important part of themselves. I had a problem. This simply did not gel with the bible. The first nail in the coffin had been struck.
Around this time my dad collapsed from a burst anuerism in his head. He spent the next four months in a coma and the next three years as a veritable vegetable until cancer in his stomach (from exposure to Agent Orange in Vietnam) finally took its toll. For most people of faith, a time like this highlights the need for that faith. A person's faith often carries them through such stark difficulties. For whatever reason, it didn't for me. Perhaps it was because at the time I was already questioning my faith. Or, perhaps, I simply needed something other than vague uplifting platitudes to help me understand the full nature of my loss. Whatever the reason, my faith had suffered its second major, and in this case, fatal blow.
I say all that to say this. I believe I have a unique perspective on the subject of faith. I'm certainly not the first person to have two distinct periods of life with and without faith. Nonetheless, I have many non-religious friends who've never had faith at all. And many friends who've never gone without.
Only a person who has experienced faith can understand it. Those who haven't simply can't. Faith cannot be explained. It cannot be copied. It cannot be approximated. Faith, in my opinion, is a daily choice to live and believe a certain way with no rational, scientific reason whatsoever. In our modern world where science and reason are king, faith can seem quaint, simple, even laughable. I'm ashamed to admit that for a while I felt that those with faith were experiencing life on crutches. They had chosen to hold on to some phantom of an ideal instead of facing the world and each day with the spectacles of science and reason.
I have since grown to learn that many people of faith aren't weak or lacking in reason. The faithful can ceratinly behave like a bunch of sheep, but so, too, can those without faith. Faith is a choice. Like love, one can easily slip in and out of it. To hold on to faith in the face of adversity is a strong choice. It's a choice made every day.
I make a choice every day, as well. I choose to look at the historical record to understand the world around me. I choose to inspect humanity's great triumphs and mistakes to inform my worldview. Is this a better choice? A stronger one? Perhaps. But most people of faith don't engage the world in a vacuum. They're aware of the church's shortcomings and inconsistencies. Nevertheless, they make a choice to continue down the road of their choosing - and for that I applaud them. Problems arise, of course, when church leaders are followed blindly and without a healthy dose of skepticism. Those of us who operate without faith are no strangers to skepticism. We adopt a skeptical view of everything we encounter. For me, it's a safe and illuminating way to live. But who am I to say that someone else's methods aren't as keen?
My next article is going to deal with the modern American evangelical church and it's political maneuverings. I thought it was important before I posted to make it clear that I'll be referring to the "Church" and not those individuals of faith who make up the church's body.
As always, please tell me what you think.
Faith for me has a couple of sides. The first side is the one I grew up with. I was born into a pretty typical American Christian household, with a mother and father who closely followed the evangelical Christian faith. (It's important to note that the evangelical versions of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam are essentially a modern, 20th century invention.) As I grew up and became aware of myself and the world around me, I quickly surpassed my parents in my zeal for my faith. This wasn't simply a teen choosing to be a Christian because his parents had. This was true faith - unshakeable and unfaltering. I threw myself into my local church activities and into the study of the bible. I developed meaningful friendships of which Christianity was the central theme. I played, wrote, and, on a couple of occasions, even sermonized. I held positions of leadership in more than one local church.
How, then, did I come to be such a faithless, skeptical person? Two reasons: homosexuality and my father's death.
One of the major tenets of my particular brand of Christianity was the infallible nature of God's word (the bible). Put simply, the bible is the inspired word of God and is therefore as infallible as He is. Sure, it was written and compiled by men, but it was God who made it happen. The extreme result of this belief is an uncomfortably literal translation of the bible. Obviously, one of the many modern issues on which the bible was pretty clear was homosexuality. Certainly, the law (the first bunch of books in the Old Testament) was clear. So, too, was the New Testament. Jesus and Paul both referred to the sinfulness of homosexuality. This wasn't a problem as I was growing up because I understood that a homosexual isn't born with those tendencies but, for lack of a better term, chooses them. As I got closer to more friends in theater, however, things became difficult. A few key conversations with some trusted gay friends began to convince me that homosexuals have no choice in their lifestyle - except to embrace who they naturally are or spend a lifetime denying a very important part of themselves. I had a problem. This simply did not gel with the bible. The first nail in the coffin had been struck.
Around this time my dad collapsed from a burst anuerism in his head. He spent the next four months in a coma and the next three years as a veritable vegetable until cancer in his stomach (from exposure to Agent Orange in Vietnam) finally took its toll. For most people of faith, a time like this highlights the need for that faith. A person's faith often carries them through such stark difficulties. For whatever reason, it didn't for me. Perhaps it was because at the time I was already questioning my faith. Or, perhaps, I simply needed something other than vague uplifting platitudes to help me understand the full nature of my loss. Whatever the reason, my faith had suffered its second major, and in this case, fatal blow.
I say all that to say this. I believe I have a unique perspective on the subject of faith. I'm certainly not the first person to have two distinct periods of life with and without faith. Nonetheless, I have many non-religious friends who've never had faith at all. And many friends who've never gone without.
Only a person who has experienced faith can understand it. Those who haven't simply can't. Faith cannot be explained. It cannot be copied. It cannot be approximated. Faith, in my opinion, is a daily choice to live and believe a certain way with no rational, scientific reason whatsoever. In our modern world where science and reason are king, faith can seem quaint, simple, even laughable. I'm ashamed to admit that for a while I felt that those with faith were experiencing life on crutches. They had chosen to hold on to some phantom of an ideal instead of facing the world and each day with the spectacles of science and reason.
I have since grown to learn that many people of faith aren't weak or lacking in reason. The faithful can ceratinly behave like a bunch of sheep, but so, too, can those without faith. Faith is a choice. Like love, one can easily slip in and out of it. To hold on to faith in the face of adversity is a strong choice. It's a choice made every day.
I make a choice every day, as well. I choose to look at the historical record to understand the world around me. I choose to inspect humanity's great triumphs and mistakes to inform my worldview. Is this a better choice? A stronger one? Perhaps. But most people of faith don't engage the world in a vacuum. They're aware of the church's shortcomings and inconsistencies. Nevertheless, they make a choice to continue down the road of their choosing - and for that I applaud them. Problems arise, of course, when church leaders are followed blindly and without a healthy dose of skepticism. Those of us who operate without faith are no strangers to skepticism. We adopt a skeptical view of everything we encounter. For me, it's a safe and illuminating way to live. But who am I to say that someone else's methods aren't as keen?
My next article is going to deal with the modern American evangelical church and it's political maneuverings. I thought it was important before I posted to make it clear that I'll be referring to the "Church" and not those individuals of faith who make up the church's body.
As always, please tell me what you think.
Friday, July 28, 2006
On Listening to Music
At some point in our relationship, almost every friend of mine has asked me if I like a certain artistor what artists am I listening to? My response seems to surprise everyone: I don't really listen to music.
Oh, I did! For many years I'd devour whole discographies of an artist or composer I liked. Billy Joel, Yes, Rush, Styx, Bela Fleck, Kansas, Bernstein - I've probably heard every single recording by or about these people. But, in the last five years, or so, all that has changed. These days, when driving in the car I'm either listening to NPR news, WMNF news, a burned CD of some podcasts (my favorites are Inside Home Recording, Geek Speak, NPR Technology, NPR Religion, On the Media, KCRW's To the Point, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, and Talk of the Nation Science Friday), or a book on CD. As far as the car is concerned, I've gotten to the point where I'd rather not listen to anything than listen to music. Now, this isn't all the time, but for the most part it holds true.
Home is a different matter. I work at home in my office. So, pretty much all day long I have to listen to the music I'm working on (this can get really old really fast!). It also means I can't have any music or TV running while I'm working. Sometimes, if what I'm doing is cleaning up notation, which is pretty much just a visual thing, I'll listen to a stream of AIR America or a podcast from my computer. When I'm not working, I'm usually watching TV, writing, or playing a computer game, so, once again, there's not much chance to listen.
This is so unlike how I used to be. I came up in the days before CDs and ipods. I remember never going anywhere without my walkman (it was so cool, it had all these extra bells and whistles - I think I paid around $200 for it) and a bunch of cassettes in my bag. My car always had a premium cassette player and speakers. When CDs came in, I would buy a Discman and use a tape adaptor. My car was always full of shoeboxes or CD booklets with hundreds of CDs. Once, when my car was broken into right outside my house, I had a CD booklet with 120 CDs stolen. I was devistated.
These days, though, I'm fine listening to people talking. Occasionally, I'll listen to a CD Amanda's burned for me with a bunch of stuff she likes - her taste and mine are pretty similar. But other than that, it's pretty much just all talk all the time. Hmm, how apropos!
Oh, I did! For many years I'd devour whole discographies of an artist or composer I liked. Billy Joel, Yes, Rush, Styx, Bela Fleck, Kansas, Bernstein - I've probably heard every single recording by or about these people. But, in the last five years, or so, all that has changed. These days, when driving in the car I'm either listening to NPR news, WMNF news, a burned CD of some podcasts (my favorites are Inside Home Recording, Geek Speak, NPR Technology, NPR Religion, On the Media, KCRW's To the Point, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, and Talk of the Nation Science Friday), or a book on CD. As far as the car is concerned, I've gotten to the point where I'd rather not listen to anything than listen to music. Now, this isn't all the time, but for the most part it holds true.
Home is a different matter. I work at home in my office. So, pretty much all day long I have to listen to the music I'm working on (this can get really old really fast!). It also means I can't have any music or TV running while I'm working. Sometimes, if what I'm doing is cleaning up notation, which is pretty much just a visual thing, I'll listen to a stream of AIR America or a podcast from my computer. When I'm not working, I'm usually watching TV, writing, or playing a computer game, so, once again, there's not much chance to listen.
This is so unlike how I used to be. I came up in the days before CDs and ipods. I remember never going anywhere without my walkman (it was so cool, it had all these extra bells and whistles - I think I paid around $200 for it) and a bunch of cassettes in my bag. My car always had a premium cassette player and speakers. When CDs came in, I would buy a Discman and use a tape adaptor. My car was always full of shoeboxes or CD booklets with hundreds of CDs. Once, when my car was broken into right outside my house, I had a CD booklet with 120 CDs stolen. I was devistated.
These days, though, I'm fine listening to people talking. Occasionally, I'll listen to a CD Amanda's burned for me with a bunch of stuff she likes - her taste and mine are pretty similar. But other than that, it's pretty much just all talk all the time. Hmm, how apropos!
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
On Sleep Schedules
You know that stereotype of a musician who awakens at noon and doesn't sleep until 6:00 am? That's me. Well, actually, it's go to sleep around 3:00 or 4:00 and wake up around 10:00 or 11:00. I know, my god, what a slacker, right? For the last 15 or so years, I've felt kinda bad about my schedule. I mean, everyone else is waking up between 6:00 and 7:00. These are the contributing members of society. These are the ones who understand that you've got to work for a living. It's only those crazy kids, those slackers with no job, who would wake up so late. I mean, jeez, they've lost half their day waking up that late!
It took me a long time to realize that I'm no better or worse than those going to sleep at midnight and waking at 6:00 or 7:00. I'm just different. I don't have an office to get to. There's no traffic jam I need to hear about on the radio. I have no kids who have to be in homeroom by 7:15. Oh, I suppose on occasion I'll have a meeting at 9:00 or, ugh, an early flight. But, for the most part, there's nothing I'll need to do before noon. So, why should I wake up?
I've always liked late night and early morning (12:00 - 4:00). It's peaceful. Our pets are docile and sleepy. The house is dark and quiet. No one's going to call (and, let's face it, if someone does call - somebody probably died). I do a lot of work at night. It's a great time to write, compose, orchestrate, etc. Just pop on some headphones and get to it.
SIDEBAR: Some years ago, when I was roomates with Fadi in Tampa, we lived on the second floor. One night, our downstairs neighbor knocked on our door and asked us to turn down our music. She must be mistaken, I assured her, I was using headphones - ok, sorry, good night. 15 minutes later she knocked again and said she was sure it was coming from above. I finally realized it was me making the noise - as I was working with headphones, my foot was keeping time by stomping on the floor! I apologized, offered her a beer, and said goodnight. Half an hour later, she had to come up again - apparently, I'm not aware of just how often my foot taps to the music!
For years, I felt a little ashamed about my schedule. To this day, I grimace if, when I answer the phone, the other party asks if they just woke me. I don't know why. I'm as productive as anyone else. Hell, sometimes I'm a downright workaholic (interspersed, of course, with periods of abject laziness). Maybe when we move to Portland everything will equal out. I mean, if you think about it, I'm just living on a west coast schedule. But, more likely, I'll just shift back another couple of hours.
It took me a long time to realize that I'm no better or worse than those going to sleep at midnight and waking at 6:00 or 7:00. I'm just different. I don't have an office to get to. There's no traffic jam I need to hear about on the radio. I have no kids who have to be in homeroom by 7:15. Oh, I suppose on occasion I'll have a meeting at 9:00 or, ugh, an early flight. But, for the most part, there's nothing I'll need to do before noon. So, why should I wake up?
I've always liked late night and early morning (12:00 - 4:00). It's peaceful. Our pets are docile and sleepy. The house is dark and quiet. No one's going to call (and, let's face it, if someone does call - somebody probably died). I do a lot of work at night. It's a great time to write, compose, orchestrate, etc. Just pop on some headphones and get to it.
SIDEBAR: Some years ago, when I was roomates with Fadi in Tampa, we lived on the second floor. One night, our downstairs neighbor knocked on our door and asked us to turn down our music. She must be mistaken, I assured her, I was using headphones - ok, sorry, good night. 15 minutes later she knocked again and said she was sure it was coming from above. I finally realized it was me making the noise - as I was working with headphones, my foot was keeping time by stomping on the floor! I apologized, offered her a beer, and said goodnight. Half an hour later, she had to come up again - apparently, I'm not aware of just how often my foot taps to the music!
For years, I felt a little ashamed about my schedule. To this day, I grimace if, when I answer the phone, the other party asks if they just woke me. I don't know why. I'm as productive as anyone else. Hell, sometimes I'm a downright workaholic (interspersed, of course, with periods of abject laziness). Maybe when we move to Portland everything will equal out. I mean, if you think about it, I'm just living on a west coast schedule. But, more likely, I'll just shift back another couple of hours.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
