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phoku.26

I took the photo while camping on Spirit Mountain, above Duluth, Minnesota (yes, there is at least one mountain in Minnesota. Guess I packed up my tent while it was still wet last time I camped (thus the mold). Anyway, liked the juxtaposition of the green world outside, and the green world inside my green tent--both the light and the mold. All sorts of green, new life and moldering life. The type of thing that would attract a guy with zen pretentions and a camera--a phoku (photographic haiku) writer, that is.

over the border into the abyss

Today I visited the new Borders Bookstore in Silver Spring, MD. I thought Borders was a respectable book store chain (that is, not too huge) but I saw some things that offended my literary sensibilities greatly. Namely: the literary seemed to be largely banished from the store.

Since starting the doctoral program in English literature at the University of Maryland, I have gotten into the habit of going immediately to the literary criticism section upon entering a (usually used) book store. Much to my chagrin, this Borders did not have a literary criticism section. There were a few shelves for fiction, but none (that I could find) for criticism.

Then I went to the magazine section and was shocked to find no literary magazines available. There was a "culture" magazine section, full of glossy, celebrity-laden publications, but nothing as "high brow" as literary criticism.

In the words of Hall and Oates pop song, "How long has this been going on?" How long have magazines and books written by people who attempt a more-than-superficial contemplation of literary art been missing from the bigger book stores (I think I remember at least literary magazines at Barnes and Noble)?

I suppose part of the problem is that at this moment in the U.S. we're more likely to quote a pop song (see above) than a literary critic or literary work of art. In fact, that was the notable thing for me: there was a magazine section for "culture" (umbrella term) than for "literature." Culture, especially pop culture, has replaced the classics of Greece and Rome, and literary classics in general, as the typical matrix of cultural commentary.

I'll grant that perhaps it's a good thing that literature is no longer privileged as it once was, but it would be nice to find literature in what was once known as a book store when you want it (I'm pretty sure "Books" is still in the sign over the door--but maybe they've changed the name to "Borders Media" or "Borders Cultural Products").

I can deal with the marginalization of literature, but not its erasure. So I guess I'll have to look elsewhere to meet my weird, idiosyncratic need for literature. Like used book stores, and independent booksellers. I think it's a good policy anyway to avoid the big chain book stores. Now I have yet another reason to do so, if I didn't have enough reasons already.

not a review of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Mostly because I haven't read it. But also because I see, by browsing some of the Harry Potter fan sites, that being a "spoiler" is to be of the party of Valdemort! Some no revelations from me. But I do know of a major happening in the book, which I will not reveal, even on pain of wizard-working death.

I know because my housemate Sarah told me. She and her sister Ariel were at one of the HP parties on Friday night and got their books. Sarah stayed up most of the night reading it but, alas, did not finish before dawn as she had planned. Ariel was being much more laconic in her reading, taking a couple days to finish.

It sure is nice to see a book causing so much fuss, and to hear Hollywood "industry insiders" scheduling their movie releases (or lack thereof) on the publication of Harry Potter.

Though, from what Sarah says, J.K. Rowlings's latest might be a little too cookie-cutter, a little too deadline-beholden. She even intimated (or was that me?) that this book might have been GHOSTWRITTEN.

But you didn't hear that from me. And please don't tell the Harry Potter fan sites. I don't want to be turned into a newt.

P.S. I thought J.K Rowling's website was fun:

http://www.jkrowling.com/

review of The Fantastic Four

Not fantastic. One of the worst comic book adaptations I've seen (granted, I don't see a lot of comic book adaptations). Far inferior to the two Spiderman films, and the current Batman film.

The bad news is that the fault mostly lies with the script writer. The dialogue is labored and uninteresting, and there's little characterization beyond stereotyping.

The good news is that this proves that good writing still matters! And the bottom line (profits way down) might help Hollywood see that.

review: mysterious skin

A review long in coming...

Mysterious Skin, Greg Araki's latest film, is one of the better films I've seen in this disappointing summer of '05. It's the story of two young men set in Omaha. One of the young men has become a gay hustler, after being sexually abused by his baseball coach while a child. The second young man thinks he's been abducted by aliens. How these two lives become intertwined is a big part of the story, which I will not spell out here. It's a beautiful, tragic, lyrical, involving film.

I haven't seen an Araki film since his debut, The Living End, a kind of Thelma and Louise road movie, with the two main protagonists being gay men who have just been diagnosed with HIV. I thought it was a good film, but his later films seemed to revel in violence, in which I do not revel. A gay Tarantino is still too much Tarantino in my book.

Mysterious Skin has its intense moments, and some pretty serious violence and sexual violation, but it's justified by the story and by no means justifies or celebrates that violence. And it has great writing, acting, and directing to appeal to those even more squeamish than me.

Joseph Gordon-Leavitt, playing Neil, certainly comes of age in this film. A great, break-out performance. His counter-part, Brady Corbet, playing Brian, is also good, as is Neil's mother, played by Elisabeth Shue.

Other reviews here:

http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/mysterious_skin/

street stencil artist borf busted

Today's Washington Post reports that Borf, a guerilla stencil artist that I've featured on this blog (February 21, July 2) has been busted. He, with a couple of tagging associates, was arrested yesterday by DC police, after they got an anonymous tip.

Apparently the Post has been talking to the guy for months and now that he's been arrested they can come out and say the name of their latest "Deep Throat": his name is John Tsombikos and he's an 18-year-old artist, currently taking "time off" from classes at the Corcoran School of Art. Not surprisingly, the dude's politics are radical (anarchist) and counter-cultural. And "Borf" was actually a friend of Tsombikos who committed suicide a few years ago. Tsombikos's been tagging in the name of his friend ever since.

And the Post is not the only entity that has been tracking this guy. Hundreds of folks have been, in DC and on both coasts. Photos of his work have been appearing at Flickr.com (search for "borf"--275 photos!), and stencilrevolution.com.

The Post quotes someone as saying that "Citizens are ecstatic about him being caught." That's probably "Yuppies busily gentrifying the city and obsessed about property values are ecstatic about him being caught." There are at least 200 or so people (judging from the photos at flickr) who were intrigued enough by Borf's work to take pictures, and who are probably not that thrilled about an interesting graffiti artist being put out of commission. I know I'm not.

Particularly now that I know there is a whole network of folks who take pictures of and track graffiti/stencil artists (practitioners of "street media"). This is quite an exciting development for me, which I would not know of if I hadn't see the "old media" story, which led me to new media sources (flickr and stencilrevolution).

I particularly admire Borf's escapade on the Roosevelt Bridge, in DC, this Spring, which I totally missed. This is from storker.

I also found a version of something I reported on July 2, but was not able to capture with my camera: the ubiquitous stenciler dressed up in revolutionary garb (as Black Panther Huey Newton, the Post reports). This is from Jake Dobkin, taken in New York City.

It's quite possible that a number of street artists will carry on Borf's campaign while he deals with his legal issues (some have been using his logo anyway to support, and undercut, his campaign). I'll keep my eyes open and check in with photoblogs to see if Borfs keep appearing.

I will also look into the current "Rancor" campaign, which I blogged about on July 2. (Just checked flickr.com--only a couple tags so far. I've seen at least six different "rancor" tags around town). One of the Borf tags, on a park bench, is suspiciously similar to the one I photographed on July 2. We might need a handwriting (or spraypaint-tagging) analysis on this one.

phoku.25

I took this at Sligo Creek, Takoma Park, MD, on Sunday July 10, around 2pm. I decided to spend part of my Sunday afternoon walking in the creek. It was a beautiful day, the water was refreshingly cool, and I was wearing my waterproof Teva sandals. I had a wonderful walk and highly recommend it. It's an amazing way to find some silence and solitude in the midst of the big city. Not too many folks walking down the middle of the creek, even on beautiful Sundays.

At one point I stopped and took my sandals off, and let them float. Then I thought of this phoku, the poem and the picture, and took a couple pictures with my digital camera. You see one of them here. And I wrote the haiku tonight, and did the phoku (combined the haiku with the image) an hour ago.

media and tonglen

Looking at some photographs on my photo disk, I was reminded of this:

A few weeks back, a couple friends--both of them good, giving people--were having problems with each other. I, along with another mutual friend, was invited to be part of a listening process. Both of the parties were able to speak to their pain and perceptions of the conflict, and things seem much better.

At the end of the session, I said I had a little homework for my no-longer-feuding-but-still-wary friends. I offered to take the photo of each of them and then give each of them a photo of the other. I meant it as a spiritual exercise.

I suggested that they put the photo that I gave them on an altar, or something like that: a prominent place where they would be sure to see it. And then, I suggested, they could visualize the other person they'd been struggling with and try to imagine their suffering, and try to think nice thoughts about them. It was a modified version on tonglen, or metta meditation: taking in the pain of the other, and then sending out healing energy.

They agreed. I took the photos, printed them out, and them handed them out. They took them home and at least one time--probably more--they looked at it and thought nice thoughts about the other person.

A week later one of the friends thanked me for the suggestion and said she found it very helpful. Things seemed to be going a lot better for her, and for the fragile friendship between the two friends. I was glad to hear it and thought: I should do more of this stuff myself!

But I don't just write this to recommend a spiritual practice. I also want to make the observation that it is a mediated spiritual practice. Through the picture, the practitioner takes in the negative energy of the other, and transmits positive energy. Through intention, and the medium (the picture, in this case), healing occurs. I imagine that other media can be used for a similar effect. Worth exploring.

OK, it's a little New-Agey, but I still think spiritual technologies are worth examining and thinking about. So I'm going to examine and think about them. And blogging about them here.

Gates of Paradise: Plate 15

Plate 15

I realize I've let this little project lapse in a big way. The original idea was to take a page from William Blake's For the Sexes: the Gates of Paradise, save it as a digital wallpaper on my computer, and then just have it there for a week, and after that week offer a blog reflection on using computer wallpaper technology to mediate spiritual experience. I also wanted to think about it as a subtle, and spiritual, game.

This one has been a wallpaper image (amongst others, I must admit) for a couple months now. I thought the previous plate, plate 14, was one of the finest images in the book. This plate I think is one of the worst. I find it very poorly executed and confusing. What does the shining, floating, Urizen-esque figure represent? A visiting angel, or a departing soul? This too-material representation of souls got Blake into trouble (worse reviews than usual) later in his career when he did engravings for Blair's The Grave.

And what about the figure at the bottom left? This one could represent the soul as well (his head seems placed in a way as to make the viewer think it belongs with the shrouded trunk). How else to explain the contorted figure, bent in ways that humans are typically not capable of achieving?

I think the composition is a disaster. As an emblem it might work if the Urizen-figure was isolated from all the rest (and the rest blotted out), though of course that would change the meaning of the image.

The caption is interesting, I'll grant that, though almost a cliche for Blake: "Fear and hope...are Vision." That is, our world is the one we SEE: if we are fearful, we see only our fear, but if we are hopeful, we see reason for hope. Either way, it could be argued (especially by skeptical atheists like Blake's contemporary and acquaintance William Godwin), it is a form of blindness, and, besides, Blake says it more profoundly elsewhere in his corpus.

Maybe I would be more receptive to the spiritual message if the image were composed and executed better. I'm hoping the next image in the series is done better and I will have something more intelligent to say next time (forgive me, Blake!).

spinning a blog entry

Time for another "coming out."

I'm a spinner. No, this isn't a chic term for someone who takes a strange new drug or does wild and crazy things or is a modern dervish: I spin yarn. Yarn made out of wool, flax, and alpaca (so far).

I find it to be nearly narcotic in its ability to calm me down. When I've been slaving away at the computer for three or four hours and am about to put my fist through the screen, I step into the next room, get my spindle and a strand of roving (cleaned up fiber), and start spinning. In this way, a very old technology keeps me from destroying a relatively new technology.

Even better is when I take my spindle outside, find a nice green spot and a nice tall tree and spin there. In fact, I take my spindle with me wherever I go, and when I have a few free moments, like waiting for a metro train, I take it out and start spinning. People stare, but in a curious, friendly way. Sometimes they ask me what I'm doing and I tell them. It can be a nice, small-towny ice-breaker in the big, anonymous city.

Spinning also makes for a good meditation practice. You have to pay special attention when your spinning, in how much fiber you draw down, in how you control the twist, etc. It helps keep the mind anchored in the present moment.

I'm very aware that the more invested I become in digital technology, the more I feel a need to use my hands for things other than pushing keys and buttons. That's why I drum, and why, now, I spin.

Of course it helps to have another fiber artist in your life if you spin. Otherwise, you're making a lot of yarn and it's only a matter of time before you fill up your room with it (and I don't know if having a cat to play with the yarn would help or not--probably not). Luckily my boyfriend Wallace (who got me hooked on spinning in the first place) is a terrific fiber artist and uses the yarn I give him. Either that or he's too polite to tell me to stop.

I suppose eventually I'll start knitting or crocheting, but right now the spindle is enough for me. Knitting seems too much for me to take on right now. I'm more likely to take it in another direction: incorporating the traditional story-telling role of the spinner ("yarn-spinner").

If you want a high-tech (with video) introduction to a low-tech craft (tho, like any craft, it's as low or high tech as your skill level), here's a URL:

http://www.joyofhandspinning.com/HowToDropspin.html

phoku.24

first thing: blog

OK, I've done a blogger-like thing (at least, according to the current popular conception): the first thing I did when I got up this morning was to go to my computer and start reading blogs. The second thing was to write this.

Part of it is because my new browser "home" is AlterNet, an alternative news source, and there are blogs there. The blog I found there this morning (actually two) is not, as might be expected on an alternative news source, political. A couple of Indian nationality, Nipun and Guri Mehta, are recording through words and pictures a modern pilgrimage through India.

I like these blogs. I like this blogging, that is this kind of serendipitous connection. And it's so refreshing to read about random acts of kindness rather than random acts of terror. Here are the URLs:

http://nipun.charityfocus.org/blog/
http://ajourneytoindia.blogspot.com/

technology, compassion and London's 7-7

So now Britain, joining Spain and the U.S., has had its 9-11 moment. A terrible tragedy and loss of life. I will heed the call and resist the temptation to assign blame; instead I will concentrate on cultivating compassion for all involved and offer good energy/will to the beleaguered Brits.

I can't resist saying something about media here. On 9-11-01, I was holed up in my mostly-media-deprived cave of a basement room in Washington DC. Back then I had a dial-up connection on a line shared with five other people, and so was not online very often. I didn't even hear about the attacks until that afternoon and since we didn't have a TV then, we had to go out to a bar to see those ubiquitous film clips of the planes hitting the World Trade Center.

Yesterday was a completely different situation. I heard about the London bombings early in the morning, while eating my breakfast. Barry, boyfriend to housemate Katy, gave me accounts while surfing on his laptop. I then went up to my desk and immediately went online. I mostly looked at blogs, which I didn't even know about four years ago. I also checked out sites like the Manchester Guardian, etc. I also listened to Amy Goodman's indispensable Democracy Now program.

This morning, I saw the pictures in the paper taken by Brits using cell-phone cameras. Cell phones also played a part in the rescue efforts on 9-11, but there weren't many (if any) camera cell phones back then. Maybe that's a good thing, if the disturbing pictures from yesterday's events are any indication.

So, technological advances, even in the past four years, have made suffering more tangible, even visceral, in offering multimedia coverage, accessible from computers. Compassion has become more globalized, but then so has sadism. There is no doubt that, as the Washington Post reported today, terrorist organizing has become globalized through computer and telecommunications technology. The internet has become a key tool in "grassroots" terror-cell building.

It is probably much too optimistic to hope that those operating out of a cretinous ideology and worldview might be reformed by the use of globalized technology, the very emblem of modernity. Right now they're using that technology to propagate their cretinism. But shutting down world communications is not really an option. In fact, it's exactly what these terrorists would like. Anything to paralyze the so-called West.

I suppose the only idea I can offer is that people of goodwill, of nonviolent and compassionate intentions, continue to use those same tools and technology to create a space where alternatives may be envisioned and practiced. Paraphrasing Proudhon, let us build a new society in the circuits of the old.

kidnapped by r.l.s.

Recently, in the back seat of my housemate's car, in a box of books destined for a used-book store, I found this book.

Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson. Nothing remarkable in the name or author. What caught my attention, and got me to fish the book out, was that I recognized this particular edition of the book (Scholastic Book Services, 1964).

It was the same edition of the book that I received when I was in my first book club, when I was 8 or 9. I didn't actually read it because I found it too difficult for my 8-or-9-year-old brain to comprehend. That's not surprising to me now since, in glancing at it, I see that there's a lot of brogue-like speech, and lots of big words.

It's quite possible that this was the first book that defeated me, and thus caused me to vow never to be defeated again (certainly a Stevensonian sentiment), a contrariness which has led me to be kidnapped by academia, as I work on my doctorate in English literature.

In fact, I read my first--believe it or not--book by Stevenson last semester (The Strange Case of Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde), in a Victorian Lit seminar. I liked it quite a lot.

Is it possible that the subject and title frightened me off? Possible, but just as likely it gave me added impetus to keep struggling to read it. Like many 10-year-olds, I was obsessed with, and fascinated by, the idea of being kidnapped. I viewed it, as it is depicted in this book, as a kind of adventure. That obsession and fascination has modified into a dull sort of fear by now, though I don't think it likely I will ever be kidnapped. I am not rich and so would make a sorry prize, and have no plans on traveling in Iraq, though I certainly feel for those who are kidnapped there.

So I have the book, and I have some time. Maybe this is the time for me to read Kidnapped. If so, I'll write a belated review here in this blog.

mississippi burning memory

I wasn't watching the Edgar Ray Killen trial very closely but I was still aware of it. Killen was convicted of manslaughter on June 22 for the "Mississippi Burning" killings of civil rights workers James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner in 1964.

I was happy justice finally prevailed in this case, and have little sympathy for the elderly Killen--who never showed or admitted remorse in the case--even though this might mean he dies in prison. But what I've really been thinking about is the media representations of the case, namely two films, one in the mid 70s, and the other in 1988, with Gene Hackman and Willem Dafoe.

The latter film (Mississippi Burning) was entertaining but also an egregious whitewash of the FBI, who, it is now known, fumbled the case badly.

But the lesser-known mid-70s made-for-TV movie (with Peter Strauss--the only actor I remember in it; don't know the name: I've Googled but haven't found anything on the web about it) is much more memorable to me because it impacted my life in a major way. In fact, I can say it was a media-event that changed my life.

I can remember being fascinated and horrified by the case, held in suspense as the three civil rights workers were pulled over by Mississippi police, jailed, and then released to be tracked by Klansmen and, in effect, lynched. I was an impressionable age, 11, and affected, to the point of tears, by the vulnerable and very human heroism of the three murdered men. I can remember clearly thinking that I wanted to be that kind of hero, to follow in their footsteps.

And I did, though not to the point of becoming a martyr for the cause. From that moment, through high school, and then college, and then especially in my hard-core activist days in my 20s, I dedicated myself to working for peace and justice.

Now of course, I am like many of those who were galvanized by the civil rights movement, and then the anti-Vietnam War movement, and were now watching the conviction of an elderly racist on the news, wondering where that passion for justice went.

To be fair to myself, I still occasionally find myself on the barricades these days, though usually I'm beating on a drum, and doing my best to steer clear of the hotheads.

The next time I'm in the streets for a protest (probably the September anti-war mobilization, though maybe before that, who knows), I'll be particularly mindful of Chaney, Goodman, and Schwerner, and grateful for their sacrifice.

I'll also be mindful of the fact that for all my carping about television, once upon a time a made-for-TV movie changed my life.

some stencil rancor

I mentioned in the blog entry below a graffito on a truck which had the words "EXTREME RANCOR." I said it was part of a street media campaign because I've been seeing that phrase (usually just the phrase) spray-painted all over town. I first saw it at a little park at the intersection of 16th St. and Columbia Rd. in NW DC.

I took the photograph as much for the following story as for the graffito.

I was at that park with my drumming group, the Rhythm Workers Union, to support a community barter. The park is also a gathering place for some homeless Latin men, usually drunk when they're there (I call them "borrachos," using a Spanish word I've heard others use). At the end of our drumming, a couple of these borrachos got into a fight. I sat there observing the fight, not really wanting to get involved. They were both so drunk, and so clumsy in their movements, I thought they wouldn't do much damage to each other. But then I saw one of the men bleeding from the mouth and left my drum to help some of the other borrachos break up the fight.

Shortly thereafter I saw the bench in the photo. It was where one of the men who was fighting was sitting. It was an illustration of what I had just seen: "RANCOR IS A MONSTER." I thought, somewhat irrationally perhaps, that someone, with grafitti, has cast a spell on this place, causing people to be belligerent.

And then, days later, I saw the phrase again, and then started seeing it all over town, the same word--"RANCOR"--in the same distinctive (for grafitti) style of writing (I want to say "font"). Which made we think that maybe the artist was not casting spells or trying to create rancor, but rather point out the rancor that already exists in this town. I want to be generous, rather than paranoid, in my interpretation.

But however you look it, it still represents a street media campaign, which in itself is a very interesting phenomenon. I will keep looking for the rancor so I can speculate on where this strange campaign is going.

even more stencil revolution

I forgot to mention in my previous blog entry (see below) that I have yet another picture of the stencil of the radical stenciler.

Now our mischievous stencil boy is just a head on a truck, parked at Sherman and Park Road, NW DC (I should mention I've seen him, in Adams Morgan, as just a head--but haven't photographed it), forming the letter "A" (one assumes) in the word "BARF." So yet another iteration.

But something else has caught my attention here, the evidence of another street media graffiti campaign, namely the demented-looking Pac Man (or blancmange, featured in a Monty Python Wimbledon sketch, circa 1971), and the words above it: "EXTREME RANCOR."

For more on that, read above (though you've probably just read it).

more stencil revolution

I recently came across a familiar image on the back of a stop sign in Georgetown.

What caught my attention was the head image, which belongs to a figure I've been seeing spraypainted/stenciled all over town. In fact, I took a picture of it and commented on it back in February, noting its clever reflexivity (it's a stencil of a person holding a spray paint can).

And now it this image, we have another twist. The head is not spray-painted, but rather printed on paper and then plastered to the sign. Even more striking is the fact that the image is artificially made to look pixelated. Thus in this one image (for me, anyway) is evoked its form as a spray-painted stencil/graffito, as a printed-out and plastered hand-bill, AND as a pixelated, digital image.

I'm very curious about this mixed-media campaign but am critical of it (as I have been before) by the fact that its message is mixed as well. A URL to an explanatory website, to accompany the image (in all its forms), would be helpful. I for one am very intrigued by what this artist (or artist collective) is up to. Perhaps I should try Googling.

And there's another form this image takes, one I've seen riding on a Metro train: somewhere between Takoma and Silver Spring metro stations there is this same figure, except he's wearing a bandolera (vest with bullets) and (I think) holdling a submachine gun. The figure has been revolutionized, which makes me wonder whether that's what the mixed-media campaign is leading up to: intriguing the passersby (as it has me), so that one follows the image through the streets (as I have done), and as the image becomes radicalized, so does the consumer of the media. (It also makes the statement that doing graffiti or street art is but the first step in becoming a radical agent for change).

I really need to make a special trip to find that radicalized graffiti-artist stencil. And who knows what other iterations I am yet to find.

review of Howl's Moving Castle

I really liked Howl's Moving Castle, and I really should spend as much time reviewing it as Batman and Starwars, but I'm not going to. Great message, great animation, another surrealistic jewel of a film by Hayao Miyazaki (a follow up to his Academy Award-winning Spirited Away). I like the cut of his celluloid jib, especially his slightly cracked fun house mirror view of the imaginative world. What else is there to say? Go see it, on the big screen.

The official website is not as flashy as the Batman site, but a lot more helpful. Though the calliope-ish music gets repetitious real quick. (And what does the web designer have against italics?)

http://disney.go.com/disneypictures/castle/

review of Batman Begins (again)

Went to see the new Batman, Batman Begins. Has anyone else noticed that this film is a re-make of Tim Burton's original Batman film, with Michael Keaton? The same effort in making Batman edgy and dark by looking into his origins (murder of his parents, etc.)--though the villains are different here (instead of Joker and Penguin, it's Ra's Al Ghul and Scarecrow). There are indications that this film is the first of many. Does that mean that all the other Batman films will be re-made as well? It's an interesting prospect.

I like the Mystical-East backstory for Batman, and the insertion of the Morgan Freeman character into the story. Michael Caine as Alfred is characteristically good--it's been a while since MC phoned anything in. Christian Bale is one of the better Batmans, I think. I was attracted and a little frightened by him, anyway. And he has a sense of humor that is more than unintentional camp, which is good. It was interesting seeing Liam Neeson in a villain role. It's the first time I actually wanted to see the Noble Irishman get his butt kicked. Christopher Nolan did a decent job directing and now that he's got his requisite Hollywood blockbuster out of the way (after the amazing Memento), he can do some films that have atmosphere AND challenging story.

I was going to put in the URL here for the official movie website but after surfing it I found it to be crap. Flashy and gothy, as it should be, but how about a dramatis personae, folks, and interviews with someone besides the lowly production people? It's all look and extremely low-function. Not recommended.

review of Revenge of the Sith

I've been seeing a lot of typical Hollywood fare this summer. Since I intend this blog as a log of my media use and consumption, I'll just say a few things about these films.

Saw the last (actually third) Star Wars film, Episode Three: Revenge of the Sith. Boffo opening scene, with much blowing-up-ness. The story line and characters were pretty good too. Less predictable and wooden than the last two films, anyway. Hayden Christensen as proto-Darth Vader did a good job, Ewan McGregor too, though I prefer him in less-constrained and more edgy roles. Natalie Portman was a little too helpmeetish. Of course, the supposed big story here is that Lucas was slamming the Bush administration for being power-hungry and for undermining democracy in the name of democracy. It was pretty subtle I thought, and non-intrusive, but then I'm one of those who does not need to be convinced that Bush (and his wars) is bad for democracy. And it's not exactly new: Roman history gives us another good example of power and war corrupting democracy.

In the end, I think Anakin's going over to the dark side was fairly convincing--showing us the dark side of love and attachment. Though I think slaughtering children on his first time out was a little much of a stretch.

It's too bad that now that George Lucas has got his Star Wars groove back, he's done. Maybe he'll grace us another imaginative universe again? Or maybe just dispense with the film and give us the action figures and marketing tie-ins.

The official website is serviceable. Though I don't like the Star Wars franchise commandeering the term "hyperspace" for its own nefarious marketing purposes.

http://www.starwars.com/

media-rich and -poor baseball

Yesterday I finally got to see DC's new baseball team, the Washington Nationals, at old RFK stadium. DC, an historic baseball city, hasn't had a baseball team since the early 60s. So far, DC is thrilled to have the Nationals, especially since they are NOT upholding the DC tradition of "First in War, First in Peace, Last in the American League" (referring to the long-time doormat the Washington Senators, who left town in the early 60s. It helps that the Nationals are not, like the Senators, an American league team, and thus not constantly at the mercy of the Damn Yankees).

It was a pretty exciting game, with the Nationals winning 7-5, Chad Cordero getting his major-league-record-tying 15th save in the month of June. They are in first place, 4.5 games ahead of perennial division winner Atlanta. Sweet.

I must say, however, I didn't enjoy the game as much as I would have liked. That's because for most of the game I was deprived of what no true baseball fan can live without, viz. statistics and strategy. That's because I was deprived of MEDIA.

For most of the game I thought that the interim RFK stadium didn't have a proper scoreboard, which is essential for player statistics and replays. Around the 8th inning, after going for a pretzal, I discovered that there was a scoreboard, but it was right above where I was sitting and thus unviewable from my seat. It's a pretty good scoreboard, it turns out.

There are smaller scoreboards scattered about, which give some information. But I was sitting there wondering why there was a scoreboard that showed total counts of pitches thrown for strikes and balls, but nothing that showed ERA and year won-loss record. That information was displayed above my head, where I couldn't see it. I could also see players' year batting average, but nothing about homers, RBI, etc. All this is to say, I didn't have enough information in which to judge strategy--why this batter was up in this situation, whether that pitcher should stay in the game. Without stats and strategy baseball is, I admit, a dreary sport. That's why media is so important in baseball stadiums (not to mention, outside the stadium).

So the Nationals do have a scoreboard, which is good. Still missing, however, is a scoreboard showing how other games are progressing. It's possible that, since I was at a day-game, there were no other games to follow, but I still couldn't see where such information would go. I'm spoiled, I admit it, by growing up in Chicago and going to games at Wrigley Field, where other games are followed extensively, and lots of other information is there to be seen. What also makes it remarkable is that it's an human-powered, as opposed to an electronic, scoreboard. That becomes part of the game too: wondering when, for instance, the guy up there (maybe gal?) is going to put an E up there for error, or instead change the number on hits.

I do love watching games in a stadium, but I also like watching it on TV (though that's hard to do in DC right now, since Peter Angelos, owner of Baltimore Orioles, is trying to punish DC for having the effrontery of putting a team in HIS backyard). If you like pitching, like I do, it's better on television, because you can watch the pitches. It's hard to watch from the upper deck, where I was watching the game.

They should hand out little televisions to pitching fans. That would make watching a game at the stadium even more media-rich, and interesting, for me, anyway.