If the Internet has made our lives so much easier, why can I not order a pair of socks online without a PhD in Sanskrit?
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
The Allstate Prophet
When asked about the death of Natasha Richardson last week, fellow actor Dennis Haysbert (best known as President David Palmer in the TV series "24") said the following:
"God doesn't give us anything we can't handle. It was her time. God called her home."
Once -- just once -- I'd like to see an interviewer question this kind of offensive, stone-age nonsense. Suggested follow-ups to the smug stentor:
1) What do you mean by “handle”? Wracked with grief for the rest of your life, but short of committing suicide? That kind of “handle”?
2) Do you think a false claim that Ms. Richardson is in an invisible house in the sky offers her young sons succor, particularly the one who was with her during her tragic fall?
3) Why have you become a shill for Allstate Insurance when, by your logic, there are no accidents... only God's plan?
"God doesn't give us anything we can't handle. It was her time. God called her home."
Once -- just once -- I'd like to see an interviewer question this kind of offensive, stone-age nonsense. Suggested follow-ups to the smug stentor:
1) What do you mean by “handle”? Wracked with grief for the rest of your life, but short of committing suicide? That kind of “handle”?
2) Do you think a false claim that Ms. Richardson is in an invisible house in the sky offers her young sons succor, particularly the one who was with her during her tragic fall?
3) Why have you become a shill for Allstate Insurance when, by your logic, there are no accidents... only God's plan?
Monday, February 9, 2009
Irony Exposed!
"An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day
It's a black fly in your Chardonnay
It's a death row pardon two minutes too late
Isn't it ironic ... don't you think?"
- Alanis Morisette
No, I don't.
While irony's precise meaning is difficult to pinpoint (and let's forget Socratic irony altogether), we can generally agree that it is marked by a deliberate contrast between apparent (literal) and intended meaning, whether in the form of a spoken phrase or a situation.
I bring Ms. Morisette's oldish song to the fore because it symbolizes the word's still rampant misuse. Just yesterday a colleague, referring to Thursday's plane crash in upstate New York, said "Ironic that one of the victims was a 9/11 widow." No, it is not ironic. There was no incongruity between an expectation of a reality and what actually happened. It is a coincidental shame that so much tragedy has been heaped upon one family, but far from ironic.
Similarly, a "black fly in your Chardonnay" is not within seven football fields of irony. The simplistic line is meant to cleverly juxtapose the third world and the refined. I suppose it does, in a seventh-grade-Intro-to-English-class way (see, student, if it landed in tap water it wouldn't have been such a cultural jolt!). But there's absolutely no contrast between surface and underlying meaning.
Now if I, a proud atheist, were to be struck and killed by lightning you could say that it's ironic. But since there is no God, and since all wise people know that lightning is caused by successive portions of air becoming a conductive discharge channel as the electrons and positive ions of air molecules are pulled away from each other and forced to flow in opposite directions, you'd be wrong again. So fuck off.
He won the lottery and died the next day
It's a black fly in your Chardonnay
It's a death row pardon two minutes too late
Isn't it ironic ... don't you think?"
- Alanis Morisette
No, I don't.
While irony's precise meaning is difficult to pinpoint (and let's forget Socratic irony altogether), we can generally agree that it is marked by a deliberate contrast between apparent (literal) and intended meaning, whether in the form of a spoken phrase or a situation.
I bring Ms. Morisette's oldish song to the fore because it symbolizes the word's still rampant misuse. Just yesterday a colleague, referring to Thursday's plane crash in upstate New York, said "Ironic that one of the victims was a 9/11 widow." No, it is not ironic. There was no incongruity between an expectation of a reality and what actually happened. It is a coincidental shame that so much tragedy has been heaped upon one family, but far from ironic.
Similarly, a "black fly in your Chardonnay" is not within seven football fields of irony. The simplistic line is meant to cleverly juxtapose the third world and the refined. I suppose it does, in a seventh-grade-Intro-to-English-class way (see, student, if it landed in tap water it wouldn't have been such a cultural jolt!). But there's absolutely no contrast between surface and underlying meaning.
Now if I, a proud atheist, were to be struck and killed by lightning you could say that it's ironic. But since there is no God, and since all wise people know that lightning is caused by successive portions of air becoming a conductive discharge channel as the electrons and positive ions of air molecules are pulled away from each other and forced to flow in opposite directions, you'd be wrong again. So fuck off.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Those Carrots Sure Do Glisten!
Armed with my new 60", 1080P, 100,000-1 contrast-ratio television, I was abuzz with the promise of heretofore unknown high-definition delights. Replay of the Super Bowl with its reds and blacks and fireworks popping? Documentary on the rain forest, every leaf and exoskeleton tactile? Fresh print of Citizen Kane, Greg Toland's deep-focus photography revealing even more secrets? Ah...there it was. The top category in Comcast's On-Demand menu: "HD Programs." One remote click away from a world of revelatory visuals. What would be at the top of the list?
Celebrity Rehab in HD.
That's right. Chief among your HD options is this ghastly pap masquerading as docu-healing. This country's yen for the Schadenfreude Channel (stocked with exploitive garbage like Home Makeover, American Idol and The Bachelor) is bad enough. Must we also have it served with the same clarity as the BBC's Planet Earth? Yes, you thought you saw Jeff Conaway's stomach contents, Gary Busey's darting-eyes and Steven Adler's drooping mouth before...
Where's a tube TV when you need one?
Celebrity Rehab in HD.
That's right. Chief among your HD options is this ghastly pap masquerading as docu-healing. This country's yen for the Schadenfreude Channel (stocked with exploitive garbage like Home Makeover, American Idol and The Bachelor) is bad enough. Must we also have it served with the same clarity as the BBC's Planet Earth? Yes, you thought you saw Jeff Conaway's stomach contents, Gary Busey's darting-eyes and Steven Adler's drooping mouth before...
Where's a tube TV when you need one?
Friday, January 30, 2009
You're a Fool. Literally.
On a recent Today Show, chirpy, self-loving weekend anchor Jenna Wolfe made, as the unintelligent often do, a verbal gaffe of inclusion. During one of those idiotic wildlife segments, Ms. Rose was holding a snake when the frightened reptile relieved itself on her arm. Her eloquent response: "Oh my God. It literally peed on me!"
Forget the breathless, teenage-like first part and pay close attention to her unfortunate use of the misunderstood and over-utilized adverb. "Literally" should never be used as a mere point of emphasis (it is not synonymous with "really"), nor as an intensive before a figurative expression (you can't say "I'm literally going to throw you to the wolves" unless you really are).
So, Ms. Wolfe, unless you were artfully contrasting what happened with novelistic, existential snake urination, you have blighted your show once again.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Utterances of the Damned
* I don't have the bandwidth -- A perfectly fine word for the transmission capacity of electronic communications has been transmogrified into a business cliché for personal time. Even in its correct form the word has been dying since 2005, so the unoriginality is twice as acute. The next time a colleague complains of a lack of bandwidth, might I suggest that you engage in a little wordplay of your own. Tell them that, based on their bi-weekly trip to the Macaroni Grill, they have plenty of "band width."
* There you go -- This patronizing response to another's attempt at humor is the spoken equivalent to a pat on the head (and is usually accompanied by a preening smile and a "you-da-man!" finger point). Please, either serve up a full-throttle, white-lie laugh or have the honesty to level with your office's Pauly Shore about his lack of comic skills.
* Sooner, rather than later -- Are not the final three words strongly implied by the first? Indeed, a full 75% of this bizarre expression of urgency is unnecessary. Imagine the same cadence in other situations: "This coffee's too hot, rather than cold." "Pump me harder, rather than softer!" (Apologies -- I never miss a chance to paraphrase from the late-night Cinemax classic, Shaving Ryan's Privates.)
* There you go -- This patronizing response to another's attempt at humor is the spoken equivalent to a pat on the head (and is usually accompanied by a preening smile and a "you-da-man!" finger point). Please, either serve up a full-throttle, white-lie laugh or have the honesty to level with your office's Pauly Shore about his lack of comic skills.
* Sooner, rather than later -- Are not the final three words strongly implied by the first? Indeed, a full 75% of this bizarre expression of urgency is unnecessary. Imagine the same cadence in other situations: "This coffee's too hot, rather than cold." "Pump me harder, rather than softer!" (Apologies -- I never miss a chance to paraphrase from the late-night Cinemax classic, Shaving Ryan's Privates.)
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Adjectivally Challenged
“The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.”
- Henry James
"The Dark Knight was awesome."
- Probably You
"Awesome" overkill started innocently, as part of the Valley zeitgeist of the early '80s. When Jeff Spicoli shouted "Awesome! Totally awesome!" in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, his was a sincere, pot-fueled burst of exuberance, a West Coast bridge to the "groovy" legacy of the '70s. His character found a comically absurdist way of reforming Henry James's beauty-is-everywhere meaning. But now the word has been drained of its glory by millions of linguistically challenged mammals who carelessly flick it in front of every item or event that induces modest pleasure.
That which truly inspires awe? The Manhattan skyline. The Grand Canyon. The sea. Birth. That which should not? Most everything else, including an over-edited superhero sequel marked by a morose lead performance. I can guarantee that your meeting was not "awesome," nor was your burger, your coffee, your friend's joke or your child's crappy 1st grade play.
- Henry James
"The Dark Knight was awesome."
- Probably You
"Awesome" overkill started innocently, as part of the Valley zeitgeist of the early '80s. When Jeff Spicoli shouted "Awesome! Totally awesome!" in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, his was a sincere, pot-fueled burst of exuberance, a West Coast bridge to the "groovy" legacy of the '70s. His character found a comically absurdist way of reforming Henry James's beauty-is-everywhere meaning. But now the word has been drained of its glory by millions of linguistically challenged mammals who carelessly flick it in front of every item or event that induces modest pleasure.
That which truly inspires awe? The Manhattan skyline. The Grand Canyon. The sea. Birth. That which should not? Most everything else, including an over-edited superhero sequel marked by a morose lead performance. I can guarantee that your meeting was not "awesome," nor was your burger, your coffee, your friend's joke or your child's crappy 1st grade play.
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