The PostModern Hamlet

Name:
Location: Cleveland, Ohio, United States

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

“I never liked fortune cookies before the operation,”

...caught our minds almost as much as they fornicating lobsters. We all looked and laughed, delighting in our ability to mock the establishment and boast our youth.


Mouth cancer? Extreme dental reconstruction?

But our minds soon returned to a pair of lobsters seemingly caught between mating and tumbling for a view--accomplishing neither.

And so we sat Tony Chang’s Mongolian/Chinese restaurant, two blocks off the MCI Center in Washington, D.C.

Naturally the four of us laughed, though I also winced. I had just read my own fortune from a cookie:

‘You will be successful and overcome many hardships.’

Granted, Sarah P. getting a duplicate fortune relaxed my stress. (Well, the attention-grabbing effect of two pounds worth of Cashew Chicken indigestion played a part as well)

Belch.

But what this was a day in Washington DC with Charlie, Rachel and Sarah.

We went to see the Folk Life festival. I mainly floated around. Naturally I was attracted to two spectacles:

1) that of smelling whiskey barrels

2) hearing old drinking stories from Northern Irish octarians

But I also learned about the Virginia tobacco industry, some river in China, and fish traps—a favorite of Rachel.

Sarah, naturally, was drawn to the horse. Unfortunately it turned out to be plastic.

We also watched some children frolic and fall to a traditional Chinese dance. The men took mental note of the ills of children; the women yearned for a family.

There was also deep discussion on family structure, relationship augury, a little awkward meta-relationship discussion, a gazing at a Sandra Day O’Connor-filled room.

(Okay, okay: That last one makes sense—it happened in the portrait gallery)

My favorite moment: Dashing across a DC street in China-town like a somewhat drugged, childlike fairy-creature.

I also learned how mundane the site of old, wrinkly penises can be. Watching daily colonoscopies must put a crick in one sex-life—if not other things.

But back to the overview: Keith and Charlie met Rachel and Sarah at the Freer Gallery. Rachel had just gone to the bathroom; Keith and Charlie were hungry; and Sarah was recovering from a fire.

Decorum demanded a culinary focus.

Oh, yes—the girls (young women/human beings of female gender/[insert PC term here]) had been waiting over three-quarters of an hour.

Bites follow us everywhere. But then there’s always portrait gallery disclosures and aspiration recovery.

But the most delightful image of the day was this: Sarah relating a small child falling off a horse, and uncharacteristically, balling their eyes out. I could only image the frequency of the vocal barrage entering Sarah’s skull—how many memories it diluted; patience it erodes; and heartbeats it etched out of her. (It helped that at this very point I visualized pushing the Chinese-dancing children on the ground in a series. I figured it would be like chopping tall wheat with my head. The stacks would go down, and then come back up, only to be swayed again to my will.

Granted the wheat would be balling their eyes out, and I couldn’t comprehend my bread out of the mayhem—but I still found myself spiritually food.

Oh, and in a brief, blustering bolt of dialogue, Rachel may just buoyed self-confidence.

Lessons from the portrait gallery:

Hush Toned Exchanged on Oil-Smooth Benches

‘Did you know subjects of portraits born before 1950 are markedly uglier? Also, the nobility seemed to birth a disturbing magnitude of defected children.’

Thank god for SPAM.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Yucca Mountain Awesomeness, Early Morning

Dear all,

Okay, okay. I don't want to toot my own horn needlessly, but I am anyway.

So let's say you're a Congressional Representative who doesn't like having nuclear waste. And let's say you're home-state is set as a nuclear dumping site. You could try to talk about the waste issue, try or share it more equitably, or even make an impassioned plea for shutting down all nuclear power facilities--if the risks of waste are truly that high.

Or you could kill a cartoon character. As the kids say, This was 'for serious.'

In other news: Thinking of Edinburgh and Sarah D. Hmm...one day I will have to meet her personal hide away (well if you don't count the nation with her).

Side question: Is Edinburgh a "nation" of the United Kingdom, like a like super independent version of one of America's fifty states? Any tips on proper titles or description would be helpful to all (two) readers of the blog.

In other news, driving on a highway at 4 am is awesome.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Wallet Woes

Dear all,

In in a moment of profound foresight, I left my wallet on the top of my car's trunk and drove away. The wallet, predictably lacking any real integrity, pathetically fell to the ground.

Or this is my reconstruction, since I did not notice my wallet's absence until I had parked outside work.

This led to me cursing loudly, searching my car frantically, and then driving--most likely too fast--back to the gas station.

Fortunately the wallet was found, fully intact. Not that I wasn't a prime example of grace under fire.

(No not really.)

But I did learn two useful lessons: 1) periodically check for your wallet, especially after a purchase and 2) if one is a first-time beard cultivator, ready yourself for additional skepticism when trying to retrieve a wallet containing a clean-shaven ID.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Time and Keith Fly Fast

I. Back on Blogger; Keith's Back-Wash

Well, back on blogger. We'll see for how long.

I must say, it was quite unnerving/therapeutic to glance over my past entries. Same old cliche: change vs. consistency. Anyhow, working as a TV watcher is exciting.

In other news, I finally slapped together a draft of Spring 2006 Washington Society's lit presentations and debates. With Gene able to throw in his minutes, this might actually turn into a content-crammed digital repository for the WASH.

II. Thoughts on Cartoon Network's Lil' Bush.

In other news I've been thinking about this new show, Lil' Bush. Here's an over

Lil' Bush seems to have everything in order; the Iraq War initiative, how to score chicks, his opponents' underwear, and now, debut ratings. Lil' Bush: Resident of the United States is Comedy Central's latest attempt at an animated television series, again approaching the medium with an unabashed desire for poking someone in the ribs with a stick as much as possible. Debuting only weeks ago on (Wednesday) June 13th, 2007 at the precious 10:30pm timeslot, Lil' Bush managed a respectable delivery. Although this only cable network dedicated entirely to the comedic arts has produced failing original animated programming at regular intervals for a few years now, Comedy Central is hoping and praying that some groundwork is laid sooner or later for an animated programming block [recent A.I. news: "Comedy Central Animation Slated 2007-2008"].


A broad however humorously specific at times criticism of the Bush Administration and their related parties, Lil' Bush: Resident of the United States takes the liberty of calling out and criticizing every facet of politics that have gone wrong, appeared to have gone wrong or will most likely go wrong, that involves current President George W. Bush [recent A.I. news: "Comedy Central's 'Lil' Bush' Animation"].

Featuring pint-sized versions of world leaders and Bush Administration executive cabinet members, some current and some not-so-current, Lil' Bush thrives heavily on incisive irony and pulls no punches when it comes to topics of abortion, the fixing of elections and religious bias.

I am going to give the show another week. It could be a major hit for Cartoon Network, bringing in 2 million viewers. (For a cable baseline, FX's Rescue Me brought in just under 3 million.

Detect the trepidation? If this 'Resident of the United States' becomes a satrical sucess: I'm going to worry about the state humor in America.

Lil' Bush ridicules the Bush administration relentlessly: mixing historical periods, and making completely nonsensical parodies of public figures. But the show lacks an important, and missing satrical element: constructive dissent.

From The Penguin Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory:

The satirist is thus a kind of self-appointed guardian of standards, ideals and turth; of moral as well as aesthetic values. He is a man (women satirists are very rare) who takes it upon himself to correct, censure and ridicule the follies and vies of society and thus to bring contempt and derision upon aberrations from a desirable and civilized norm. Thus satire is a kind of protest, a sublimation and refinement of anger and indignation. As Ian Jack has put it very adroitly: 'Satire is born of the instrict to protest; it is protest become art.' (p. 780, 4th edition)

Artistic considerations aside, protest wasn't a problem for 'Lil Bush. Protest was everywhere: Bush, Iraq, abortion were all bandied about. But in what direction? It seemed instead of sketching out a 'desirable and civilized norm', the show opted for far less: heaping blame squarely on one not-so-little Bush White House.

And, is so doing, seemed to want to audience to revel in washing their hands clean of George W. Bush, and the last six years of American policy.

The Daily Show and the Colbert Report constantly skate the line between satire and comedic nihilism. But what always kept them firmly satrical was their acknowledgement and value of certain truths: they delivered information to an woefully underinformed audience. In taking the time to deliver news, in whatever tone, the show implicitly signaled that there are truths out there, worth knowing. Why? Presumably to use that information to act.

Lil' Bush serves as a release. Watching it is a release from knowing anything. Instead it invites you to throw your knowledge on the screen, strip it of importance, plant the blame, and laugh over the inability to change anything.

And the show pains itself not to show the damage Lil' Bush causes. Let alone is there another pathway that the audience is shown. Inside we are told to laugh at our helplessness.

It seems the shows asks us all to be Lil' Condi's. Not only is she the most inteligent of the 'Lil gang, she's hopelessly in love with George W. Bush. Her unwavering belief his greatness is endearing and painful: since Lil' Laura will always beat her out.

While Condi throws her affection, the viewer throws his or her frustration. But where does that leave us?

With an unwavering excuse that everything is Bush's fault; and tuning in for yet another week Lil' Bush exploits.

III. Definately Time for a Tone Switch

Hmm...other news. Got some excellent photos from Sarah D.

Going to see Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead the weekend after next. Perhaps that will exhaust my humor receptors.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Summer Craziness, Wash stuff, Jobs, (Reliant) Blog(s) Update, and Surprise Radio Shows

So...last week was fairly hectic.

Past trip

Went to NYC with the padres from July 2nd - July 4th. Saw one play and one musical; and had the pleasure of having most of my Independence Day being confined to a Boeing 700ish, plane weaving long circles on the runway (thunder storms slowed the flights down).

I then got home and flowed into my normal work schedule. Worked a bit, chilled with people (mainly Charlie, as usual). Even more fun, the week slowly witnessed me acquiese to having the WASH party.

I must say: Charlie, Yogi, Bud and I made 1721 in Party Central in time for Friday's shin-dig. If only I felt as good about the party as I did about the debate. Also, the stress of setting up and dealing with the social aspects of being 'party host' did somewhat diminish my party-itude. But it was fun: from watching Emmett break my glass pitcher to arguing with Allie all night about wash-ology. And seeing Chris, Henson, Melissa, Amy, Praveen, Katie, Moore and whoever else I am forgetting was great: nothing like Wash alums to make a party even sweeter.

I have to say, the party both the good aspects and bad aspects, seemed to be quite timely seeing as it will no doubt probably be my last meeting where I am give substanial contributions (which is ironic since its the first time I hosted a WASH party). It was strange how 'full circle' came to be (as everything does when you are in that transitional time)-- with things very different, but at core still the same. (go cliches! what would I do without you). Though getting cut with glass was no fun-- though watching Sarah New being really concerned was very sweet. (And thank you Sarah and Evan for getting ice, juice, and mixer-- it was very nice of you).

Aside from that was the continuous job search: its really quite dull and I won't get into specfics with requests (which I am sure I won't get!)

But, on the other hand, I did get to watch episodes 4 and 5 of 'North and South'. This is truly the best discovering Rachel Carr has given to me, and I demand that all enjoy!

Blogs

In other news, for any that keep such tabs, I think "ProliferationPress" short life will come to an end soon. While I am happy I tired it, I am still not sure if I am much of an addition to the blogoshere (as anyone keeping tabs its been a while since I updated). The sun is setting, but you know me: I tend to let good of crazy notions very uneasily, haha.

But (fear not) other -- even those very close-- can give you far more of a fill of intruiging security-ese information (and even information outside of proliferation-- say it ain't so!). And for that everyone must go first to Caitlin's website (caitlinstapleton.com) and go to blog, or just go to her blog at http://thereliant.blogspot.com/.

Not only does the The Reliant boast the ability to show pictures (something I have failed considerably to do), a better title and a sleak look, on more substantive aspects its really a great site. (I am glad Cait took my advice to stop feeding it as a personal site, and title-label it) All the articles are good, and the article archives are truly impressive.

Seeing those gave me an idea to get a harddrive to save online documents and articles and that way, when they are posted on a site the blogger/reader both know that they will. Nothing more infuriating when the link doesn't work! Perhaps that can be the cause of the Reliant's first fund-raiser.

But yes, everyone should read it and enjoy the multiple topics, languages and talents it displays. When Cait some big wig you can go back and tell your children (or for those childless ones your friends and colleagues) I knew her when...

Last Night

Speaking of bright futures, Sara Driskell got a job! Arm-pump. Hey Sara, are we ever going to post those flyers for that group-project we had planned? haha.

We all ate at Ragazzi and were served but a cute waiter (of the male variant, unfortunately for me). In a shock to my habitus, Charlie was not there (one of the few social events I have attended without him). But Bud and Emmett sacficed, even if they are in love with my mother a bit too much. Katie Bray, Sarah New, and Cailitin filled out the other seats. Dinner was really good: well except for me overeating and getting stomach pains. But that's really not the fault of the establishment.

It was followed by a bar-night that I ducked out of-- sorry, sorry: who would of thought the bar converstation on what turned out to be a near-eve of a friend's leaving to Japan would take so long? The bar night was fun: talked on subjects ranging from America's place in the world, our nebulous future paths, how going to foreign countries for long periods of time can be challenging, and had minor freak-fits about 'growing up'. For any of those interested, I met Nadia first year, first semester in Professor Schucker's class European History: 1800-1965. To this day I still swear she wore a red coat to class, and she still swears that she doesn't own a read coat (nor have I seen it again). We closed our converstations by deciding that the other person would be great: with me proclaiming that Nadia would run the Japanese school system and be a Japanese rock star and she convincing me that I should run for office.

Aw the magic of old friends, a few drinks, and sitting at a bar.

Finding Charlie and Getting a 'Surprise'

So I returned home and got a hold of Charlie. I told him to come over, where he and I (joined by Bud) relaxed first to an episode of News Radio and then listened to most of the entirity of Sarah D'adamo's 'surprise' radio show. She pulled a 'Keith': thinking her show was Tuesday evening, but forgetting that since its from 1 am - 3 am Wednesday was really Monday.

So we called her and bothered her a bit, and I made a request. And even after Bud and Charlie left, I did curl up to Sugur Ros (which Sarah D. called herself) and while I did not remember her farewell, I think I made it pretty much through it all: leading to me having crazy dreams since I left the radio on in my sleep.

Oh I haven't checked yet, but you must update your blog Sarah with the music line up!

I hope Charlie and Bud had a good time watching me rock out and say silly things.

How many times did we call you Sarah?

And Night turns to Morning:

Then at 9 am I let in two graduate students to my appartment: Patrick, our relator point man, was late. They were very pretty people: made a spectacular couple and were quite nice. I think them talking to me was helpful, since I gave them the 411 on the place and the owners. Also turns out they are both new to Charlottesville (post-grads who are soon to be engaged or married, making their first real home-- with no money; so adorable!). So I gave them an overview of the place, another few places they might want to look at (for I think they'd prob. like a job to do those thigns that couples do: Crosswords, gardens, etc. And hey, how often do you get to talk to a glamerous couple of academics.

I then did the morning routine and went to work.

Tonight? Who knows...BW3s sure sounds good.

Hope you all enjoyed my babble!

Thursday, February 09, 2006

In Honor of my Poster

Submerging into Wes Anderson’s

Life Aquatic

© 2004 Touchstone Pictures. All rights reserved

Life Aquatic, Wes Anderson’s new film examining the life of underwater adventurer Steve Zissou, has been met with mixed reviews. Josh Bell, in reference to Mr. Anderson, believes this film “serve[s] as a demonstration of the vapidity of his so-called brilliance.” Yet, the very same film finds relief in the perhaps over-sunned eyes of the L.A. Times: “An exquisitely evocative movie that elevates rueful melancholia to a superpower.” Rotten Tomatoes (an on-line system that compiles reviews of movies and attempts to come to a rating) has found itself very useless: arriving at 50% marks in both its general survey and specialized rating that symbolizes only the solid dichotomy of critical opinion[1]. So the question remains, is this a good movie? Well most would look at the box-office. And with this a definite answer is found. After over 3 weeks in nation-wide release Life Aquatic has only made 22 million dollars, not even a half of the film’s cost. Thus, this film has become Anderson’s first auteur-styled belly-flop at the box-office[2]. At least the Royal Tenenbaums was a critical success. Has Wes really lost it?

No. Well that was a bit quick I admit. He has lost it, in the sense of making films that most likely have no hope for bringing their investors back heaps of money. But has he lost any of his talent? No at all. It has only grown, and it is perhaps that growth that explains the strong reactions of critics across the nation.

Life Aquatic stands as Anderson’s most bold and expensive film, but still caste in the same tradition of his previous films Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums. Then why the strong change in critic opinion? Because in combining the qualities of those two previous films, within such an expansive story what is old appears new again. Strangely enough it is one of Anderson’s greatest achievements that this film has been seen as a deviation by some critics. Why? Because what is called ‘deviation’ by some is really the following: evolution.

The evolution was painful. In shooting a film that runs from France, to Antarctica, to the Sea aboard the Zissou ship- The Belafonte, Anderson has made a film that has challenged both viewers and critics alike. But in so doing, he has crafted a film that is enriching to all those that seriously watch it. A film that will certainly out-last Sorceress’s ‘The Aviator’ regardless of the difference in accolade accumulation. And that does not mean knowing all the instead jokes that some critics believe sink this cinematic ship.

Life Aquatic: Seaward Evolution

“We’re all a pack of strays- don’t you get it?’ – Steve Zissou

The similarities between and ‘Life Aquatic’ and Andersons’ past films are many and significant. At their core ‘Rushmore’, ‘The Royal Tenenbaums’ and ‘Life Aquatic’ all document the quest of reconnection and family forging for their central characters. Max Fischer of ‘Rushmore’ creates an artificial family consisting of a widowed-obsessed elementary school teacher and a chronically depressed business man. Royal Tenenbaums documents a real family of geniuses all trying to re-connect with one another after the return of their neglectful father, Royal. And one finds that ‘Life Aquatic’ takes this quest for family and takes it to the extreme.

Bill Murray (Steve Zissou) is a man finding himself in the throes of a mid-life crisis. Once a respected and revered under-water adventurer, he knows is a laughing stock and considered a hack. Not only have his last four film documentaries been panned by the European art-studio circuit, he has lost his last remaining support. His partner, Esteban, has been killed- eaten alive by the Jaguar Shark. With his professional and emotional life collapsing one finds that his marriage is in shambles and that he is drug dependent. And so Steve Zissou plans his last mission: to take the crew of the Belafonte and kill the shark that has taken his last sense of stability in the world. So what if it’s risky? So what if they have no money? The reason for this mission is clear: revenge. Revenge for both Steve’s lost compatriot and the lost life.

Steve’s precarious survival rests in the loyalty of his crew. This crew consists of Pele, the Portuguese ‘safety expert’ whose only qualifications seems to be his ability to play David songs and shoot light flares into the water. Vikam is the silent camera man, who is spending most of his time trying to bring electricity back to the aging Belafonte. Wolodarsky while trained as a physicist serves as the original score composer of the ship. And Ogata who seems to do nothing but can hold his breathe for 7 minutes and 34 seconds. Renzo, a silent sound man and editor, and a consistently topless Anne-Marie round-out the support staff of the Zissou operation. Their mission: to help craft the documentaries of Steve’s infamous adventures. Leading this support team is Klaus (Willem Dafoe), a German desperately wanting to hold the place that Esteban held in Steve’s heart. Thrown into this rather spiritless crew is Ned Plimpton (Owen Wilson) and the overly British Jane Winslett-Richardson (Cate Blachette). Both these additions bring there own burdens onto the already besieged family. Jane is pregnant with a fatherless child. And Ned is searching for his father. A father who may, or may not, be Steve Zissou. Quite the family Steve has found himself in.

Also, Life Aquatic continues the centrality of death that is found in Anderson’s ‘Rushmore’ and ‘Royal Tenebaums’. Max Fischer’s sense of identity in Rushmore results from the fact that his mother dying wish was for him to attend Rushmore Academy. Royal fabrication of his terminal condition is the crux of the plot of the ‘Royal Tenebaums’. And now the central plot device resides in the death of Esteban.

One finds also that Anderson continues his utilization of the meta-film. Rushmore was set as a play, in which Max Fischer directs plays. Royal Tenenbaums is set up as a visual novel. And now Anderson constructs a film that is a documentary about Steve Zissou, who happens to be producing a documentary himself. Further, Anderson expands the world of his film. Steve is made the clear center of this film, much as Max was in ‘Rushmore’. Yet, utilizing the structure of the Belafonte, he brings to the film the dramatic flair that was found within the Tenenbaums household of ‘The Royal Tenenbaums’- a film who’s plot never had a clear focal point. Indeed, Anderson has morphed the sterling qualities of ‘Rushmore’ and ‘The Royal Tenenbaums’, producing the first epic Wes Anderson film.


This might all seem too much to bear. And the film does teeter close to implosion, but what keeps it together is the structure that clearly rests the burden of the film on Bill Murray playing Steve Zissou. And as anyone who was viewed ‘Lost in Translation’, there is not a more talented American actor for such a heavy burden as him. But in addition, Anderson also allows within his film screen-plays what could be called pressure-equalizers. Anderson is constantly aware that we are watching this film that is mainly about making a film. And in so doing, he permits the dialogue to release the burden of this heavily layered film. In the following scene he vents the frustrations of the viewer through the film itself.


Anne-Marie (fully clothed): “We’re all being lead on a suicide mission by a selfish maniac.”

Wilhelm: “You have a point. But I think you misjudge the man.”

So what exactly is this ‘man’ trying to bring us?

The Truth at the Bottom of the Sea:

“I need to find a father for this baby.”[3]

This film is at heart a quest of reconnection. It documents the self-discovery of Steve, and through this epicenter tells the story of the revitalization of the Steve Zissou team. And this journey is brought through Ned Plimpton- the son(?) of Steve. And what makes the journey so groundbreaking in the opus of Anderson works, it the new embrace of overt pain in bringing the joyful conclusion of this comedy.

This becomes clear when one asserts that the center of the film can be gleaned through the musical score of the film. In the official soundtrack for the film, one finds an usual repetition. David Bowie’s song, “Life on Mars” is played twice[4]. This is hidden to the viewer by the fact that it is once played in its original form, and then repeated as a Portuguese serenade by Pele, the guitar playing safety expert.

The song itself has an interesting history[5]- that only highlights the referential nature of Anderson’s works. David Bowie composed the song as a parody on the Frank Satire hit “My Way”. It turns out that Bowie wrote the original melody of “My Way” in 1968, whose rights were quickly bought up by Paul Anka. Anka then used the melody to construct the song “My Way”, which became a Sinatra classic- and one in which Bowie received no credit or real financial appreciation. And thus we constructed an satirical piece bringing its listeners lyrics such as “Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow” and “Lenin is on sale again”.

Yet, the use of this song the only slow motion shot of Steve himself highlights the direct link up with him. The fist iteration of the Bowie piece occurs right after Steve is introduced to Ned. Upon being confronted with his son he asks to be excused for one moment, and runs to the stern of the ship where alone, and in slow motion he stares into the water, smoking. During this haunting scene Bowie surreal melody creeps in, and one hears:

Sailors fighting in the dance hall

Oh man! Look at those cavemen go

It's the freakiest show

Take a look at the Lawman

Beating up the wrong guy

Oh man! Wonder if he'll ever know

He's in the best selling show

Is there life on Mars?

Indeed this highlights the conflicted relationship between Steve Zissou and his apparent son Ned Plimpton. Steve and Ned stand as opposites: Ned moral, southerner from the landlocked state Kentucky; whereas Steve devoid of an accent, morals and perhaps over- submerged in the sea. And this doesn’t even get to the real source of conflict: Steve’s refusal for 27 years ever to acknowledge or verify that Ned potential biological standing as his son. This all grows within a Oedipus-Hamlet hybrid screenplay. Both of them are naturally smitten with Jane. And when it becomes apparent the son has outflanked the father on this bird of prey, these two sailors come to fight. Additionally, Steve while refusing to ever seriously speak with his son quickly whisks him on his voyage. Furthermore, he unilaterally changes Ned’s name to Kingsley ‘Ned’ Zissou (in the guise of purchasing Ned new letterhead stock). And naturally Ned tries to push the label ‘Dad’ onto Steve. Steve refused, finding that ‘Steve-sie’ gets is better for the documentary. Both these characters are trying to fight each other into their proper, romanticized role- leading to disastrous consequences. Steve and Ned drag each other to the middle of no-where searching for the mythical Jaguar Shark. Both are asking if there can be life for this neglected father-son duo; indeed, they are both are looking for life on mars.

And all of this is being watched by the reporter, Jane who finds herself in love with Ned. Indeed she serves as the “girl with the mousey hair” that opens Bowie’s song. She indeed watches Ned and Steve fight on the ship, watching this documentary occur. And indeed she is watching the tired story of fathers and sons trying to reconnect, making the film in Bowie’s terms “saddening bore, for she has seen it ten times before”. Indeed she is the only one on the ship with a concrete problem, a unexpected child with no father- indeed making her surrounding by fools. Yet, they remain fools not because they are not focusing on the right show. While fighting over Jane, they are missing the true story: the story of their reconnection and forgiveness.

And indeed this forgiveness occurs within one of the most touching and disturbing scenes. Ned, who was a pilot for Air Kentucky, before joining the Belafonte, is flying Steve over the suspected coordinates of the illusive Jaguar Shark. The helicopter concretely reflects the decrepit state of Steve: its age in at least 20, it has no safety belts and every time he has flown it with Ned there is also an issue about the maintenance of the aircraft. And of course, on this third flight we find them in dire straights. Right after both concede to desperately needing the other (through what else but letters they wrote and kept from one another for 13 years), the helicopter suddenly stops churning.

Crash. And the screen screeches silently:

Red

White

Red, White

Red, White, Red, Red, Red

And then we find ourselves gasping for air as we find Steve doing so. Soon he fall back into comfort upon realizing he is alright. He swims to Ned. Ned appears fine, but as he drifts out of consciousness we are shown the blood-laden water that lies beneath him.

And it is at the funeral of Ned one hears again, the quiet serenade of Bowie’s “Life on Mars”. Pele strums it gently in Portuguese as the on-sea wake is displayed. Now the ‘best-selling show’ that Steve finally allowed himself into is over- almost as fast as it started. “Life on Mars” now comes to express the frustrated hope to find life that is out of reach. Yet, it is in Ned’s death that Steve finally becomes a father. Steve formally adopts Ned, making himself and his wife the new parents of a dead child. And Jane, who was close to finding the father for her baby, now is alone once again.


Or is she? For within this tormented narrative one finds Anderson’s conception of family fluid. An Andersonian family is not one with all the proper parts. Indeed is through missing fundamental links that a true family is what is cut and pasted together through the pain of existence. It is this pain that resurrects the family’s emotional nexuses. In this sense, this fantastical movie is simultaneously stands as one of the most genuine.


So now the questions abound. Will Steve finish his mission? Will he find the miraculous Jaguar shark? Will this bonded and reconnected family overcome this grief of a sunken dream to become great once again?


I guess you’ll have to watch the movie. For regardless of the box-office, this is the best selling show. ‘Life Aquatic’ pushes the pains of life onto us, but it always allows us to play in the deep seas of Mars.



[1] One can find the critics I have quoted and the figured I have cited at www.rottentomatoes.com . And in attempting to achieve full disclosure, one will indeed find that ‘Life Aquatic’ is a rotten tomato.

[2] http://theedge.bostonherald.com/movieNews/view.bg?articleid=60248

[3] Jane deliriously tells this to Steve while both are being held as hostages by pirates.

[4] One can find this fact on the CD soundtrack to the film. You can view it here if you don’t believe me go here : hollywoodrecords.go.com/lifeaquatic/

[5] This version of events was borrowed from the industrious reporting of the BBC. One can drive into this delightful story and listen to a sample of the song at http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio2/soldonsong/songlibrary/lifeonmars.shtml

Monday, December 05, 2005

Musing on Nukes and Life

This will be a rather scattered blog-- my apoligizes.

I. Recent Books

A. The Politics and Technology of Nuclear Proliferation
(1-10 scale: 8 for policy wonks, 3 for neophytes)

http://www.star.ucl.ac.uk/~rhdt/diploma/lecture_11/nuclear-bomb.gif

"In the years before the Second World War, uranium was processed for the radium that wa found in it. A Czechoslovakian plant was strated in 1904; ore form Colorado was processed in Denver beginning in 1913; in the 1920s a plant was built in the Congo region; and the Canadian desposits at Great Bear Lake were first used in 1933. Aside from its value as a source of radium, uranium was a source of yellow and green color for ceramics and was used in steel alloys. Once it had been processed, most of the uranium mined for its radium content ended up in waste piles, which were to provide a valuable resource for the Manhattan Project during World War II."
-Robert F. Mozley; The Politics and Technology of Nuclear Proliferation, page 39

Also, for those that like to believe fate has something to do with reality. The nation with the highest amount of uranium reserves is the United States (followed by Canada, Austrailia, South Africa, Niger, Brazil and France). Ibid, 49.

These are really two of the more trivial facts held within Mozley's book on Nuclear Proliferation. While it doesn't deal with some of the more castrophic areas of proliferation research (reaction to attack, most likely attacks, best ways to avoid), it is a great introduction to both the science and politics behind proliferation.

What I enjoy most is the bounded rationality paradigm it continues to bang into US decision-making. Any realist should look at Atoms of Peace or the fact that the America was aware of North Korean proclivities towards 'the bomb' in 19080, and then tell me again how a can idenitify interest and not affected by technoligical shifts, path dependency, or misaprehesion of the nature of the international system.

As an "experimental particle physicist," Mozley devotes a large amount of time to the science of nuclear technology. I especially like his diagrams. People like me who gloss over scientific accounts will probably not find much luck with his work [still comes off the page dense]; furthermore, he doesn't clearly show the significance of telling you each fact. But one can easily flip around; taking some science [why there is a difference between light-water, heavy-water and breeder reactions, or the time it takes to cool feul rods (and why they have to cooled)], or skip ahead to get a nice history of international approaches to counter-proliferation and country's with nuclear ambitions [past. current, and future]. He does a much better job distilling the political importance, though it is no where nearly as rich as his scientific analysis.

But yes. Its a good book-- everyone should read it. If only how to learn how to make your own breeder reactor and uranium bomb. Also you get to read how Mozley wants the international community (the UN?) armed with nuclear weapons. Interesting approach-- Kofi Annan would get a bit more weight if he had some nuke codes.

II. Exit, Voice and Loyalty (for politics peps, I'd say 8)

Albert Hirschman shows how we all have political potenial! Not a provocative point, it seems, but it dramatically changes the way we should investigate insitutions. Whether from the individual-up (such as Olson), emphasizing the individual barriers to collective action, or rather assume collective action occurs and what matters is how its funneled through the particular insitution (Hirschman's push).

A very good book. Uses straight forward language to prove its points. Would of like a little more acknowledge of the theories it was taking on, but whatever. Also, its always nice to have someone use Ralph Nader as proof to how the elements of the international/maro-economy do not really matter: just instituional exit formation (the differences in how people can exit various organizations, from governments to shareholders).

Also has a nice examples. Everything from explaining why McCarthy got the Democratic nomination, to why Golderwater got his party's nomination; from why Latin American politics are so unstable, to Japanese stability; and finally, from Nigerian railroad ineffiency to public school deterioration.

How can such an approach be wrong?

III. (started) The People of Paper (Score: ?)

Salvador Plascencia writes the novel The People of Paper. The back leafet states:

"Amidst disillusioned saints hiding in wrestling rings, mothers burnt by glowing halos, and a Baby Nostradamus who sees only blackness, a gang of flower pickers heads off to war, led by a lonely man who cannot help but wet his bed in sadness. Part memoir, part lies, this is a book about the wounds inflected by first love and sharp objects."

Have to say, that is one of the most effective and sustinct (could the two be tied?) back covers I have read. Meg got the book for my birthday. The first few pages are nice-- if anyone is interested in more developed thoughts, shoot an e-mail.

II. General Stuff from the Life of Keith

A. Fortnightly/WashPub Update

I am now chief editor of FN/WashPub. This is very exciting. Taking my slot in the editor position is Dan Wiser. Everyone else is the same.

Additionally, we got CIO money: thanks to Patrick Lee, who pushed for a CIO appropriation. Now we have a strong paper suppy (free of charge). This allows us to print 500 editions around grounds. We also were fortunate enough to get additional funding for other nessecary goods. If anyone from the CIO group read this, thank you very much.

Last issue was amazing. Got three new contributors: Rachel Carr, Peter Trauernicht and Evan Monez. Rachel wrote a fantastic peice on Mulberry's destruction. The best article written in the semester for its genre in my opinion.

B. WashStuff

Doing, again, stuff for WASH. Hope I do a good job. First OC of the new administration was interesting. Made me wish to remember that elections are not discussed. But whatever-- perhaps it was a fruitful discussion. It will be a good semester. Ben's already doing a fantastic job as President.

C. Other stuff

Haven't gotten around to watching Harry Potter. But Penguins in on DVD, and soon that will be purchases and watched repeatedly.
Going to be a busy week, but nothing undoable. Wish me luck on the two app's I am getting in by Friday. I still don't like thinking about not being back here, but hey: gotta start being realistic at some point.
It costs over $500 dollars to fly from DC to Edinburgh. I find this a ridiculous amount. It seems to me that Edinburgh can't be much further from DC than California. Well....how much does a ticket to CA cost? Oh well....flight travel should be free. So should my healthcare.

How I knew I had to grow up sooner rather than latter: my parent's health coverage of me expired-- leaving me without coverage for a few days. Its strange when you realize if you get sick or hurt there is absolutely no way you can pay for it.

I saw snow today. It moved slow-- building steadily. It didn't seem like a very welcoming snow. It jsut seemed to push me inside. Not exactly sure why. But there was something nefarious about Mother Nature today. Perhaps it was b/c for the most part it wasn't sticking. Very inauthentic feel to it. And lord knows I propell to much of that in my life as it is.

The emo glasses I believe are dead-- destoryed by Miss Shaw. And my new ones seems to have permament bend-- leaving them crooked on my face.

What does one think when they see someone with crooked glasses? Are they just lazy? Or do they look dangerous? Perhaps just silly. But it is rather strange to not have straight boarders on my site.

Alright-- must sleep. Have to get much work done tomorrow.

Ah-ha! Apparently there exists a ticket to london for $200 dollars! Improvement.