I'm going to try very hard to keep my elitism in my pants as I write this week's article. I would like to state for the record that I was not raised in an idyllic moon colony where entertainment has evolved beyond your simple earth contests. What follows is merely an opinion. I hope I don't offend too many people with this review, but if I do I guess I don't really care. You see, I like to drink beer, scream obscenities in public and stumble through the streets destroying property as much as the next guy. I simply do not feel the need to associate this behavior exclusively with the arbitrary success or failure of the nearest gang of inarticulate, color-coordinated, bum-slapping douchebags.
I live in a city where people go completely loopy over this stuff. As I've stated elsewhere, I am not well-traveled. While I don't know for sure, it can't be like this everywhere. Even when our teams are down on their luck, they can rely upon a powerful groundswell of nostalgia to keep the seat to ass ratio favorable. I have to assume that if your local team is some awful cannon fodder outfit that never wins and never has, then you have fewer face-paintingly insane devotees to the sport in general.
Not here, though. The local teams' games are always the chief social and cultural events citywide. We were having an economic meltdown before it was fashionable, our infrastructure is crumbling, every year the public transportation system gets worse and costs more, and our elected officials always exist somewhere on a slider between corrupt and inept. We should be out in the streets tearing shit up, but we only ever do it when a local team wins the whatever bowl.
Anti-establishment pontificating aside, the reason I'm writing this and the reason for the me versus them mentality you've likely detected is the way people treat the pastime compared to other hobbies. People assume I'm a sports fan. If there's a game taking place, I have to justify doing anything other than watching it. Clearly I'm not watching it for a reason and the reason is that I don't give two shits, but if I say this, people look at me like I just teabagged the pope.
Since I don't really care what others think about me, this wouldn't stick in my craw if society as a whole didn't see fit to judge everyone and everything else so harshly.
In our society, there exists a casual contempt for countless subcultures, clubs, and hobbies. While nowhere near as vile as the economic stratification, racism, and homophobia we struggle against, I believe they are all different heads on the hydra we never can seem to slay. It's an idea that has been with us longer than the written word. It is the conviction that, for one's own way of life to be valid, everyone else must be forced to live that way as well. Everyone -- from the early surplus farmers to the crusaders to football hooligans -- is guilty of this.
I am an adult, and have surrounded myself with people who are supportive and similarly inclined as far as interests go. But what about the kid living in Pigskin, Alabama? This hypothetical child could end up a violin virtuoso or perhaps has ideas for really bizarre performance art or maybe even harbors a harmless but unusual sexual fantasy that, if repressed, will cause a buildup of anxiety destined to culminate in some sort of clock tower incident. I'm not saying this kid can't be a quarterback or a cheerleader, but that's the direction society will insist upon.
I do not believe we need to create a world without spectator sports, but I am arguing for a world in which we support a more diverse range of cultural and artistic pursuits. I envision a world in which youngsters won't have to choose between art and acceptance, fantasy and friendship, science fiction and a social life.
That was heavy-handed. Where was I? Oh yeah, the review.
The professional sports model seems to consist of vast amounts of banality punctuated only occasionally by the extraordinary. Evidently, lots of people will watch for years waiting for one of those rare moments of wonder. To be fair, however, some people play World of Warcraft, which is designed to render the bare minimum of entertainment for their gaming dollar.
I only really enjoy those sports moments that undermine the normal structure of the game in question. I watched a runner yell, "I got it!" to disrupt the catching of an easy infield fly. That was awesome. I also enjoy hockey fights although they sometimes seem staged.
I just can't get into the passivity of the whole thing. I also seldom watch television and sometimes have trouble sitting still for a feature-length film. I mean no disrespect. If you're into it, that's cool by me.
But here's the problem; lots of fans feel the same way I do. An insane amount of thought and effort goes into the headgear, the face paint, the pseudo-spiritual rituals, and the awful -- and I mean really awful, cover your ears awful, dig a hole in the ground and bury your head awful -- songs on local radio stations. There's so much out there it's mind-boggling. I'll bet you could make enough selling one team's paraphernalia you could kick back for the off-season just like the overpaid meatheads whose names appear on your merchandise.
All this time and money is spent to try and influence something beyond your control. It is a subconscious rejection of the passive nature of the pastime. It's this disconnect between the effort that goes in and the actual entertainment value that turns me away from sports.
A few years ago, our team won the uber bowl for the first time since the age of yore. Obviously, I grabbed a camera and made my way to the college neighborhood to watch the riots. It was mildly amusing. They flipped some cars, burned a sandwich shop's awning, and tried for twenty minutes to smash open an uprooted parking meter. By the time I left -- around the time the riot moved in the direction of my tiny compact car -- I just felt sad. These kids didn't riot because their team had won, not really. Deep down inside they wanted to riot and the team's victory provided an excuse to do so.
It struck me as a monumental waste of potential. A release valve, a spillway, a clock tower that could have been a concert hall.
It's still pretty amazing when you think about it. Despite the scams and ubiquitous solicitation, the stalkers and the predators and the fact that it provides a forum for some truly despicable elements of society, the internet is a technological and cultural marvel.
Far be it for me to render an opinion on the whole thing. Last year, I checked the website of an anarchist organization for updates about the Republican National Convention protests, and not just because I share their viewpoint, but because they had better information than any corporate news outlet. To be fair, as I was doing so I'm sure some depraved piece of human garbage was using Myspace to attempt to lure some poor, unsuspecting young person into a terrible rendezvous.
Hey, all I'm saying is that it's impressive.
Chances are, if you use the internet, you probably spend a lot of time on a social networking website. These rose out of the old html-based chat rooms, message boards, and later blogs, refining the internet's capacity for communication by streamlining the process. This is what the smart people were doing back then while the rest of us were using the internet to discuss whether the Galactic Empire could defeat the United Federation of Planets in a war -- I mean, uh... looking at porn.
Each successive wave of this phenomenon has taken the wild, untapped potential of the internet and harnessed it, making it more and more accessible -- or, if you taught yourself html years ago thinking it would give you some incredible edge and feel like being a jerk about it, dumbed it down for the masses.
In any case, I was certainly not surprised at the more recent emergence of Twitter. While it certainly has some comedic and subversive potential, at its heart, it's nothing more than a list of the inane thoughts your acquaintances are presently having.
Although there seems to be some speculation that it will eventually be overshadowed by Twitter, I for one believe Facebook will be with us for some time. Something very much like it will be, at any rate. The reason for this is that Facebook has just the right combination of accessibility and control. And unlike Myspace, a wrong move won't saddle you with nine thousand viruses or -- even worse -- an unscheduled sample of the newest album from some fourteen year old's atrocious whatever-core band.
If you have a blog, or even a Myspace page, you are going to be judged by your content. Whether it's travel writing, food blogging, or just profile customization, you must create something for the whole thing to be worthwhile. On Facebook, there is so little in the way of creativity that the bar has been lowered almost to the ground. You just have to be yourself.
What are your favorite books? Cool. What bands do you like? That's awesome. Me, too. It's like making drunken small talk with everyone on the internet.
Facebook also cleverly dodged a fair amount of controversy by starting out as a service exclusively directed at college kids. Apparently, If high school seniors have an outlet to encourage and document drinking, screwing, and making bad decisions it's a menace to society. If college freshmen do it, it's an industry.
It's a lucrative industry at that. A relatively small staff can operate something like Facebook. And although it may help to show the ladies what a sensitive and smart dude you are, all that info you put into your profile to make yourself seem interesting can help them zero in on the right kind of advertising to show you. Facebook made around three hundred million last year.
We're living in the world that was depicted in science fiction written earlier in our lives. I grew up in a fairly rural, off-the-map sort of place. If you told my younger self that one day I'd write articles that could be transmitted nigh-instantaneously all over the world, I'd think it was fantasy. It's astonishing that this has taken place in such a short period of time, but it's also astonishing to see how we've used this technology.
I expect I would have imagined the internet as a great liberating force. A world in which everyone is given a voice and ideas can be exchanged freely with little interference from authority sounds like a utopia. Instead, it's often used to reduce us to lists, statistics, marketing demographics. I certainly would have believed that this technology could be used for evil, but I never thought we'd willingly do so much of the work.
It's still impressive, but where do we go from here?
Far be it for me to render an opinion on the whole thing. Last year, I checked the website of an anarchist organization for updates about the Republican National Convention protests, and not just because I share their viewpoint, but because they had better information than any corporate news outlet. To be fair, as I was doing so I'm sure some depraved piece of human garbage was using Myspace to attempt to lure some poor, unsuspecting young person into a terrible rendezvous.
Hey, all I'm saying is that it's impressive.
Chances are, if you use the internet, you probably spend a lot of time on a social networking website. These rose out of the old html-based chat rooms, message boards, and later blogs, refining the internet's capacity for communication by streamlining the process. This is what the smart people were doing back then while the rest of us were using the internet to discuss whether the Galactic Empire could defeat the United Federation of Planets in a war -- I mean, uh... looking at porn.
Each successive wave of this phenomenon has taken the wild, untapped potential of the internet and harnessed it, making it more and more accessible -- or, if you taught yourself html years ago thinking it would give you some incredible edge and feel like being a jerk about it, dumbed it down for the masses.
In any case, I was certainly not surprised at the more recent emergence of Twitter. While it certainly has some comedic and subversive potential, at its heart, it's nothing more than a list of the inane thoughts your acquaintances are presently having.
Although there seems to be some speculation that it will eventually be overshadowed by Twitter, I for one believe Facebook will be with us for some time. Something very much like it will be, at any rate. The reason for this is that Facebook has just the right combination of accessibility and control. And unlike Myspace, a wrong move won't saddle you with nine thousand viruses or -- even worse -- an unscheduled sample of the newest album from some fourteen year old's atrocious whatever-core band.
If you have a blog, or even a Myspace page, you are going to be judged by your content. Whether it's travel writing, food blogging, or just profile customization, you must create something for the whole thing to be worthwhile. On Facebook, there is so little in the way of creativity that the bar has been lowered almost to the ground. You just have to be yourself.
What are your favorite books? Cool. What bands do you like? That's awesome. Me, too. It's like making drunken small talk with everyone on the internet.
Facebook also cleverly dodged a fair amount of controversy by starting out as a service exclusively directed at college kids. Apparently, If high school seniors have an outlet to encourage and document drinking, screwing, and making bad decisions it's a menace to society. If college freshmen do it, it's an industry.
It's a lucrative industry at that. A relatively small staff can operate something like Facebook. And although it may help to show the ladies what a sensitive and smart dude you are, all that info you put into your profile to make yourself seem interesting can help them zero in on the right kind of advertising to show you. Facebook made around three hundred million last year.
We're living in the world that was depicted in science fiction written earlier in our lives. I grew up in a fairly rural, off-the-map sort of place. If you told my younger self that one day I'd write articles that could be transmitted nigh-instantaneously all over the world, I'd think it was fantasy. It's astonishing that this has taken place in such a short period of time, but it's also astonishing to see how we've used this technology.
I expect I would have imagined the internet as a great liberating force. A world in which everyone is given a voice and ideas can be exchanged freely with little interference from authority sounds like a utopia. Instead, it's often used to reduce us to lists, statistics, marketing demographics. I certainly would have believed that this technology could be used for evil, but I never thought we'd willingly do so much of the work.
It's still impressive, but where do we go from here?
Star Trek
I've decided not to review the upcoming latest -- and most likely final -- title in the Star Trek franchise. It wouldn't be difficult. I'm sure I'd start by making cheap jokes at J.J. Abrams's expense. After that, I'd move into some examples of how the film fails to appropriately acknowledge the themes that were so important to the series interspersed with bouts of misty-eyed nostalgia from my days as a young nerd. Finally, I'd look at the big picture, castigating Hollywood and the media in general for failing yet again to come up with anything new.
Thing is, I already wrote that, only it was about Watchmen.
So, in the spirit of that Watchmen review, I am going to eschew the obligatory evisceration of a film which will undoubtedly suck a big hairy one and instead attempt to be constructive. I shall ignore the fact that Star Trek is being put it in the hands of a talentless, self-important hack in a desperate attempt to squeeze a few more dollars out of it, and devote this week to eulogizing my beloved series by remembering the good times in a little essay I'd like to call
"Why Deep Space Nine was better than The Next Generation."
Do not take this as a condemnation of TNG. It was my introduction to the series, and I recall being mesmerized by its optimism and imagination. The thing is, Star Trek is a perfect example of just how much can be learned about a culture by observing the stories they tell. The Cold War-inspired Original Series was the adventures of a Federation at conflict with other major powers, trying to do the right thing but also fighting to survive. The Next Generation sees their transformation from a regional power to a sort of United Nations. They're the biggest kid on the block, full of good intentions and the will to spread their enlightened way of life to the rest of the galaxy.
The Berlin Wall fell before I could understand what that meant and I grew wary of the idealistic, hegemonic mentality of the post-Cold War United States as I got older. The Star Trek series from those eras shared the same attitudes, that anything was possible with a can-do spirit and the right mentality.
DS9, on the other hand, was aware that things are never that simple. It was a Star Trek show that didn't shy away from gray areas. It didn't set out to knock the Federation's high ideals, but it was willing to put them to the test. Not the aggressive rival test or the space monster test, but the moral ambiguity test.
Just look at the primary adversaries from TNG. You have the Romulans -- easily the most interesting -- they used to be Vulcans, but they rejected their logic-centered philosophy when it arose and left to start their own civilization. They have an interesting history, but they're constantly portrayed as scheming back-stabbers -- as a species. This attitude persists even into DS9, but they get somewhat more exposure there.
Then we have the Borg, an enemy with which you cannot negotiate, knows only conquest, and eradicates the free will of the vanquished. Do you see what I mean when I say TNG is afraid of moral ambiguity?
Finally, there is Q. I never liked Q. Q the omnipotent space-jerk who comes out of nowhere to pester the crew whenever the show's writers couldn't think of a good space-time anomaly that week.
While there's nothing inherently wrong with any of these individually, when you add them together and account for the one-shot monsters you've basically described the whole series.
Starfleet prevails, nothing changes, roll credits.
That's why DS9 is the more engaging story. The adversaries don't swarm out of Mordor. They are rational humanoid beings with recognizable emotions. TNG never really takes the time to explore the complex political and cultural terrain of the Star Trek universe, but Deep Space Nine is immersed in it. The characters find themselves in conflict with familiar faces, old allies, and even their own people.
Even the Dominion is characterized better than the major adversaries of the previous shows. The Founders are ancient and powerful, but paranoid and xenophobic, insulating themselves from the outside world with their followers. You get the impression that there exists some alien logic behind their evil.
I appreciate the work that went into adapting the Star Trek setting from TOS to TNG. The technology level increases such that we are invited to imagine a society that is no longer limited by the scarcity of resources -- a society that is forced to re-think such ingrained concepts as labor, ownership, and value. That's why it's such a shame that neither series gives us a very good impression of just what that society looks like. They tell us it's a paradise, but I always wanted to see more of it.
In TNG, confined to a single starship, it starts to feel boring and sterile. DS9, at least, has the good sense to take characters raised in the perfect world of the Federation and drop them on the edge of civilization, way out of their element. We don't get to see the society, but we do get to see its values clash with others in the cultural free-for-all of the station.
Star Trek has never been consistent, but I would like to mention that over five television series and ten films I don't think the series has fluctuated all that much -- given the expansive time frame, anyway. Look at Star Wars, that franchise shit in its own bed and slept there like it was goose down by the fourth film. Star Trek made mistakes, but they were usually creative enough to bounce back. Star Wars made mistakes and then rode that train all the way to stupid town.
So farewell, Star Trek. You will be missed. I promise to remember you the way you were when you were good, before Voyager, before the upcoming, certainly garbage film.
Captain Sisko punching Q, over and over, forever.
Thing is, I already wrote that, only it was about Watchmen.
So, in the spirit of that Watchmen review, I am going to eschew the obligatory evisceration of a film which will undoubtedly suck a big hairy one and instead attempt to be constructive. I shall ignore the fact that Star Trek is being put it in the hands of a talentless, self-important hack in a desperate attempt to squeeze a few more dollars out of it, and devote this week to eulogizing my beloved series by remembering the good times in a little essay I'd like to call
"Why Deep Space Nine was better than The Next Generation."
Do not take this as a condemnation of TNG. It was my introduction to the series, and I recall being mesmerized by its optimism and imagination. The thing is, Star Trek is a perfect example of just how much can be learned about a culture by observing the stories they tell. The Cold War-inspired Original Series was the adventures of a Federation at conflict with other major powers, trying to do the right thing but also fighting to survive. The Next Generation sees their transformation from a regional power to a sort of United Nations. They're the biggest kid on the block, full of good intentions and the will to spread their enlightened way of life to the rest of the galaxy.
The Berlin Wall fell before I could understand what that meant and I grew wary of the idealistic, hegemonic mentality of the post-Cold War United States as I got older. The Star Trek series from those eras shared the same attitudes, that anything was possible with a can-do spirit and the right mentality.
DS9, on the other hand, was aware that things are never that simple. It was a Star Trek show that didn't shy away from gray areas. It didn't set out to knock the Federation's high ideals, but it was willing to put them to the test. Not the aggressive rival test or the space monster test, but the moral ambiguity test.
Just look at the primary adversaries from TNG. You have the Romulans -- easily the most interesting -- they used to be Vulcans, but they rejected their logic-centered philosophy when it arose and left to start their own civilization. They have an interesting history, but they're constantly portrayed as scheming back-stabbers -- as a species. This attitude persists even into DS9, but they get somewhat more exposure there.
Then we have the Borg, an enemy with which you cannot negotiate, knows only conquest, and eradicates the free will of the vanquished. Do you see what I mean when I say TNG is afraid of moral ambiguity?
Finally, there is Q. I never liked Q. Q the omnipotent space-jerk who comes out of nowhere to pester the crew whenever the show's writers couldn't think of a good space-time anomaly that week.
While there's nothing inherently wrong with any of these individually, when you add them together and account for the one-shot monsters you've basically described the whole series.
Starfleet prevails, nothing changes, roll credits.
That's why DS9 is the more engaging story. The adversaries don't swarm out of Mordor. They are rational humanoid beings with recognizable emotions. TNG never really takes the time to explore the complex political and cultural terrain of the Star Trek universe, but Deep Space Nine is immersed in it. The characters find themselves in conflict with familiar faces, old allies, and even their own people.
Even the Dominion is characterized better than the major adversaries of the previous shows. The Founders are ancient and powerful, but paranoid and xenophobic, insulating themselves from the outside world with their followers. You get the impression that there exists some alien logic behind their evil.
I appreciate the work that went into adapting the Star Trek setting from TOS to TNG. The technology level increases such that we are invited to imagine a society that is no longer limited by the scarcity of resources -- a society that is forced to re-think such ingrained concepts as labor, ownership, and value. That's why it's such a shame that neither series gives us a very good impression of just what that society looks like. They tell us it's a paradise, but I always wanted to see more of it.
In TNG, confined to a single starship, it starts to feel boring and sterile. DS9, at least, has the good sense to take characters raised in the perfect world of the Federation and drop them on the edge of civilization, way out of their element. We don't get to see the society, but we do get to see its values clash with others in the cultural free-for-all of the station.
Star Trek has never been consistent, but I would like to mention that over five television series and ten films I don't think the series has fluctuated all that much -- given the expansive time frame, anyway. Look at Star Wars, that franchise shit in its own bed and slept there like it was goose down by the fourth film. Star Trek made mistakes, but they were usually creative enough to bounce back. Star Wars made mistakes and then rode that train all the way to stupid town.
So farewell, Star Trek. You will be missed. I promise to remember you the way you were when you were good, before Voyager, before the upcoming, certainly garbage film.
Captain Sisko punching Q, over and over, forever.
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