Art vs. The Government

By now, you've surely read the headlines about the Adult Swim promotional campaign that brought the city of Boston to a standstill. (LINK)

What strikes me as frightening in the fallout from all of this has nothing to do with the fact that "bomb squads scrambled throughout the city and its suburbs, snarling traffic and mass transit in the city," but the idea that city leaders are hellbent to make sure somebody is punished for the incident.

First, let's be clear. This wasn't a "bomb scare that turned out to be a hoax."
It's a public art project that an overly paranoid government turned into a bomb scare.

The irony of all of this is that the objects in question, which are only slightly more sophisticated than a Lite-Brite, were placed in several cities including Los Angeles, San Francisco and Ground Zero, New York. You would think if anybody is going to overreact to a "suspicious object," it would be New York.

Of course, nobody in New York, L.A. or San Francisco reacted to the public art project because - well, it's New York, L.A. and San Fran... three cities practically choking to death on public art projects.

So why did the city managers in Boston freak out? A complete lack of a sense of humor. I mean, we're talking about a Space-Invader alien flipping the bird here.

Sadly, as the city leaders in Boston do their best to recover from the embarrassment (nobody likes it when they don't get the joke), the government will step up efforts to insure that similar "guerrilla marketing" and art projects don't cause the same kind of panic. In fact, upon learning that several of the light-boards had been in New York for more than a week, the NY PD was reportedly dispatched to take them down.

And while we're beginning to get used to the notion of the "chilling effect," somehow I don't think a government crack-down on art is going to play to well with the people who make it.

I'm reminded of a quote from Benjamin Franklin lately:
"They who would give up an essential liberty for temporary security, deserve neither liberty or security."

In an age where our leaders come up with creative ways of explaining how by removing our freedoms, they're ensuring our freedoms, we need more people who are willing to give our government the finger. And if they do it with a Lite-Brite, so much the better.

Wasting My Time on The Company's Dime

Among the random, useless e-mails I receive on a daily basis, today I received a message informing me of an impromptu corporate training session taking place in our offices today. Joy!
And because it's a company crusade, it's mandatory. Bliss! And, to make sure any hopes for actually accomplishing anything at the office today are dashed, it's three hours long. Rapture!!!

Settle down, Beavis... today we're "Building Respect In The Workplace."

What the fu--? (Sorry, apparently that's inappropriate language)

Didn't I just sit through this three hour dirge a year ago? (Yes.)

Have the rules about what's respectful and disrespectful among my colleagues somehow changed in the past year? (No. Apparently, the same standards from 2004 still apply today.)

Madness. Pure, unadulterated madness.

What really bakes my skull about this is that at some point this quarter, I'm supposed to take time out of my day to explain exactly how I've earned my paycheck, maximizing my time and productivity at work and therefore insuring value for our shareholders. (I shit you not... )

I wonder how well it's going to go over when I explain that I couldn't get as much work done as I would've liked because I spent most of a perfectly good workday in a seminar where I was taught "if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all."
For three hours.

FINALLY!

After countless reunions by bands that we could've done without , (Van Halen, anybody?) The Police have finally decided to put aside their differences and cash in. More than 20 years in the making, this is perhaps the most exciting news (if not the worst kept secret) in the entire music industry.

The newly reunited trio will begin their march back toward global domination with an appearance at the Grammy Awards next month and then launch a full-scale tour. They're expected to announce details for the tour as soon as they work out the details.


Talk about your big pay-days... in a world where lip-syncing no talents (sorry, Maddona) can command top-dollar for "performing," there's no telling how much money these guys are going to be able to charge for concert tickets. And much as I hate to admit it, I'll happily pay any price.


Link

Bad Science

I came across this while scouring the web earlier today. Apparently, it's part of the kids menu at the pseudo-Italian restaurant chain Pomodoro.

This might also explain why your check appears to also be slightly off the mark at the end of the evening.

Just A Fancy Way Of Saying "Hanger On's"

Another day at Sundance, another day of tripping over people from Hollywood.
At home, it's easy enough to avoid the madding crowd. For me, I head for the comfort and relative safety of southern Santa Monica and Venice. And while the west side does attract a fair amount of the celebrity types, they generally live and hang out in an area that's outside of my tax bracket.

Here in Park City, Utah - they're everywhere... all manner of actor, producer and of course - their entourage.

As a member of the media, I get it. Given the number of reporters and outlets covering Sundance, it's fairly common for a publicist to accompany actors to various interviews. What strikes me as wholly unnecessary is the addition of make-up artists, hair-stylists and at least two to three random idiots whose sole function appears to be to hold an actor's jacket, or in the case of our production suite, raid our fridge.

If you're an actor, you're basically moving in between various indoor locations spending less than 5 minutes outside - where the air is clear, the wind is minimal and the temperature below freezing. Taking that into consideration, how much primping to your hair do you really need? And make-up? Honestly. If you're having someone freshen your face every 10 minutes you need to invest in a better quality of product.

As for the hanger-on's - other than holding your jacket and taking your Starbucks cup out of your hand and putting it down on a table (never to be retrieved), is it really necessary for this person to be on hand?

And while the Hollywood elite has certainly made the argument for the persistence entourage - it's their presence with the Hollywood Wannabe or Will-Never-Be that truly confounds. Other than to take up space and breathlessly kiss ass, I'm not sure why they're here.

Back home in Hollywood, one could simply chalk it up to being a loser with a moderately interesting friend. Here in Park City, where again, the temperature is below freezing, it smacks of... being a loser with a moderately interesting friend smoking cigarettes in the cold. Maybe it's a type of co-dependence among friends that's so deeply rooted, it causes separation anxiety when one party is without the other.

The entourage... a fancy way of saying "hanger on's," like boiteux is just another way of saying "lame. "

Freezing In The Sun

For the past five days, I've been working at the Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah.

Usually, when people find out that's what you've been doing, the first questions are, "so what movies have you seen," and "have you been going to any killer parties?" Much to their surprise, the answer is a resounding "none, " and "no."

You see, unlike many of the people who attend the festival, I'm not here to actually take part in any of the festivities. I'm just here to work. So, instead of hitting all of the hospitality suites and lounges to pick up thousands of dollars in free shwag, I'm shooting video of people picking up those bags of goodies. Instead of taking advantage of my press credentials and getting V-I-P access to concerts and industry parties, I'm standing out in single-digit degree cold and shooting video of people clamoring to get inside. I'm not bitter, I'm simply too busy...

One of the strangest aspects of Sundance would have to be the star-gazing. I know why I have to stand outside in the freezing cold waiting for celebrities, film-makers and actors to show up to parties and premieres; because it's my job and I'm getting paid for it. What I don't understand is what would possess someone to willingly endure those same sub-freezing temperatures, for the sole purpose of capturing a grainy cellphone camera shot of Tara Reid or some other celebretard. I think the cold might actually be affecting their brains. As I was exiting a building that was being used by Entertainment Weekly magazine as a location to shoot various actors for an upcoming issue, the crowd outside was so thick and frenzied, they actually started screaming and applauding as I made my way out the door. Definitely brain damage.

Stay tuned...

Up To Standards

Color me shocked. (Which if I'm not mistaken is something like a neon yellow... )
In a world where hundreds of people can find themselves on the unemployment line as quickly as you can stay "restructuring," the most unimaginable thing happened to me today.

My boss called me into her office to inform me that the bean-counters and folks who hold the purse strings were reviewing various positions throughout the network and in an effort to be competitive, have opted to raise my base salary. Gasp!

Even more shocking was the amount. I can assure you, it was well-above the laughable 'cost of living' increase that our corporate handlers so 'generously' bestow upon us each year to insure we can afford to clothe and feed ourselves, never mind fuel the cars we drive ourselves to work with.

I am actually working for Industry Standard. The salary I was hoping to make when I first applied for the job, nearly two years ago. The salary I didn't get, accepting a pay-cut just to get out from under the thumb of my last corporate taskmaster.

So, taking into account actual cost of living increases, multiplied by two years... and I'd say, I'm somewhere just above the poverty line.

All kidding aside, it's great news - but it leaves me feeling confused. As I'm in the midst of a job search, which will hopefully serve to shift my career into overdrive, I feel as if I'm a traitor for looking elsewhere after my current company has made a serious effort to try to 'take care of me.' Then again, why not? Money is only part of the equation... one which I'm very happy to say has been adjusted to reflect my new asking price.

Defining Disingenuous

If you haven't been tuned into CNN's nearly continuous coverage of the Michael Richards story for the past week or so, consider yourself lucky.

Ever since the former "Seinfeld" star let loose on some club patrons with a screaming, racist tirade while performing at The Laugh Factory two weekends ago, Hollywood has been seemingly gripped by a rash of mea culpas and politicization that's been nothing but a pain-in-the-ass for me and the rest of my colleagues.

As the story was developing on a week ago Monday, I was roped into contributing to this nonsense by edit-producing four different versions of the same story for four different shows. That was Richards first apology -- the one he was asked by Jerry Seinfeld to give on "The Late Show with David Letterman" while the latter was promoting the Tuesday DVD release of the seventh season of "Seinfeld" on DVD.

That story ended with members of the Black community saying his apology was bullshit; stand-up comic Sinbad even called him a "punk."

For the next few days, Michaels apologized to African American community leaders such as Al Sharpton (who didn't accept) and just about any other Black person who would take his call.

And just when you thought the story had ended there -- with Richards outed as a closet racist and black people shrugging their shoulders, still calling each other niggers or niggas on TV and in music...

BREAKING NEWS: Richards hates Jewish people, too!

Apparently, six months earlier, Richards was doing his stand-up act at The Improv in L.A. when some hecklers caused him to launch into another hate-filled diatribe - this time targeting the Jews.

BREAKING NEWS: Richards IS a Jew.

The fallout from that story - which was handed to me to produce as well - was essentially, nothing. Nobody thought anything of the incident when it happened until they saw the endless loop of Richards' rant against black people.

Meanwhile, the black community is neither accepting his apology nor buying "Seinfeld" season 7 on DVD....

BREAKING NEWS: Richards is going to talk to Jesse Jackson on his syndicated weekend radio show.

And now - Reverend Jackson, joined by comedian Paul Mooney, Democratic representative Maxine Waters and just about every major Black leader has decided that now is the time to launch a campaign against the use of "The N-Word."

BREAKING NEWS: Calling people Nigger or Nigga isn't nice.

So now - after more than 200 years - give or take a few hundred to get a civil rights movement going, the Black community has decided that using "The N-Word" is no longer appropriate?

I'm sorry - at the risk of sounding like a racist, but the whole thing smacks of opportunism.

Richards apology at the behest of his friend Jerry Seinfeld on the eve of the show's latest DVD release...

He had an opportunity to speak on camera to CNN the night after his outburst and declined. Why? Maybe it had something to do with the fact that when we asked him for the interview, the cell-phone video that captured his tantrum hadn't been made public.

And what of Reverends Jackson, Sharpton and the rest? Their agenda - though noble, seems contrived. If "The N-Word" is so powerful and so hateful, why wait for a washed up TV star to lose his shit on stage and hope that the incident is captured on a grainy cell-phone video to launch your campaign to heal all the hatred in the world? It's not as if there aren't enough references to niggers/niggas in film and music - perpetrated by African Americans no less - to use as a foundation for a campaign for decency.

Disingenuous
Function: adjective
lacking in candor; also : giving a false appearance of simple frankness

Michael Richards said on Letterman that he was "all busted up over this." Was he really "busted up" over this - or just the fact that he was busted on camera and that his bottom line might take the hit where he should've taken one on the lip.

Much of the chatter from the African American community leaders has revolved around setting an example for the youth by educating them about the hatred associated with "The N-Word." If the idea is to lead by example -- you can start by actually doing the work -- instead of waiting for the opportunity to do the work.

Put Me In, Coach!

Recently, I was asked by the higher ups at my monolith corporate news network to concoct a plan to help usher the Los Angeles bureau into the modern age and enhance our presence on the Internet.

Here it was - my big chance. The rookie being called up to take the field on Sunday.

Before I go any further, I think I should state that while I might have a tendency to appear to know it all most of the time, if your Fortune 500 company suddenly decides it might be a good idea to ask me how to navigate the uncertain waters of the future, you've got far bigger problems than not knowing whatever it is you're asking me to figure out.

That said, I accepted their challenge and developed a comprehensive 25 page plan detailing how we could accomplish our goals. It was presented a week later and was very well received. Even when the talk turned to how much it could potentially cost, the optimism about my ideas was palpable. The crowd was buzzing. A second meeting was called, this time with the bureau's technical directors, and again, the response was favorable and it looked like we might be on our way to the big game.

Of course, I should probably mention that this particular plan involved a concept that can cause even the most seasoned executives and managers to shudder... change. And not just any variety of change... but the premium brand known as "paradigm shift."

Me? I'm just an underling. So in order to make something like my little plan happen, it's up to the executives and managers to take the ball and run for the end-zone. If I'm lucky, I'll get to watch the big game from the sidelines, but in reality, I'll likely end up with some decent seats somewhere near the 20 yard line.

Imagine my disappointment when a week later, my executive producer calls me into the office to ask me, "is there anything else we can be doing?" As if to say, "in the multi-tiered plan you spent more than a week developing and revising, is there anything you might not have told us? You know, some secret play you were going to spring on us by calling an audible on a crucial 4th and goal?"

Ummm. No?

My dreams of tasting the thrill of victory from the 20 yard line were turning into a reality of watching the game on a TV with tin-foil rabbit ears, enjoying a burnt hot dog in a parking lot adjacent to the stadium.

I wonder if it's too late in the season to declare free-agency.

October Free Verse

Mystery of Life...
How someone who can't seem to operate a microwave without creating a two-alarm fire in the process, enjoys enough good luck to win a free iPod Nano.

Recipe for a good time...
A $350 wet-suit, 2 inch adjustment of your center fin, reasonable swell at Malibu on your day off.

The air is getting a touch cooler, the candy aisles are stocked and glow with a familiar shade of orange and purple. Time to dust off the decor and get your spook on.

Earlier Today
Hot coffee
Half naked woman in your bed
NFL on the tube
All is well...

At least until you hear that during a press conference following the Miami Dolphins pitiful loss to the Houston Texans, defensive tackle Jason Taylor instructs the media to refer to the 'fins as "the worst team in football," which Chris Collinsworth and Bob Costas are only too happy to oblige.

"You feel that sting? That's pride, Butch. Fuck pride."
Fuck you, Daunte Culpepper and the knee you limped in on.

An evening not wasted in front of the benevolent shrine of Tivo...and instead spent catching up with old friends like Les Paul, Buck Owens and Bob Dylan's "Nashville Skyline."

Fanboys On The Loose

The San Diego International Comic Con.
The single largest gathering of pop-culture fans in the world. Nowhere else will you find a more concentrated collection of nerds in a single place than this convention. And when I say "nerds," I don't necessarily mean people like myself who have a deep interest in comic book culture. I'm talking about a group of people that judging from their outward appearance alone, look as if they may have come straight out of "central casting."

I remember tellling someone just before heading down to San Diego to cover this year's convention for CNN, that the whole idea made me a little nervous. Whether it's a comic book convention or a simple gathering of geeks on Wednesday night at the comic book shop when the new shipments arrive, mixing with my fellow fanboys has always put me off. Because while I may share their enthusiasm and interest in the fantastic four-color universe of comics, they don't necessarily share my interest in normal social interaction, physical activity and general hygiene.

This being my first trip to Comic Con, I wasn't quite sure what to expect and for the first few moments when I hit the floor, I was so overwhelmed with the onslaught of sensory overload, it took me a few minutes to realize the full spectrum of the crowd. Once I managed to turn my attention from the displays of intricately sculpted action figures and rows upon rows of vintage pulp, I began to sense what I had gotten myself into.

The full reality of my surroundings didn't actually take hold until I joined my friend Doug, who was accompanying me both as a co-worker and fellow comic book fan, at a panel featuring legendary illustrator George Perez. The 56 year old artist has lent his talents to just about every single super-hero in both the Marvel and DC Univeses. So, naturally, he's managed to cultivate quite a fan following. Now, I'll admit it. I'm a fan of Perez's work. There's nobody working in comics today who can cram as many different characters into a single panel and do it stunningly sharp detail. His work is fun to look at - over and over again - because it's always revealing something new.

However, the particular fans that would attend a panel at Comic Con with the hopes of asking the great George Perez a question are something else entirely.

Within the first few minutes of Perez's panel discussion, he gave the audience the low-down on what he's currently working on. It was interesting... I'm excited to see what his new work will be like. I honestly could've left as soon as he finished his update. What followed however, was as fascinating as it was boring.

As fans lined up at a microphone placed in the center of the room, I couldn't help but think of that old episode of "Saturday Night Live" where all the trekkies line up to ask William Shatner incredibly stupid and esoteric questions about "Star Trek." And then it happened, life crashed headlong into art. One particular fan began asking Perez about the first color comic book he had ever done pencils for, Marvel Comics "Avengers", issue 141. As Perez waxed nostaligic about his past, the audience was absolutely enthralled. And the questions kept on coming...

"George, we met back in '79 at a convention in Houston... "
"Are there ever any characters you wished you never drew?"

I looked at Doug, looked at my watch, looked at some horrifyingly mutated nerds in the row across from me, looked at Doug again and said, "dude, we're out of here."

He apparently shared my feeling about the trekkie connection and we began to laugh about the Avengers #141 question. So much so that as we descended the escalator and crossed paths with a pair of girls dressed up like Japanese animated porn stars, we decided that it would be our mission for the weekend to locate and purchase a copy of Avengers #141.

During the next couple of days, in between dodging the sweaty masses while trying to carry out our business of shooting footage and conduct interviews, I managed to steal some time to rummage through the countless boxes of vintage pulp on display at the convention.
Finally, after two days of nerd-overload and spending way too much money on selfish indulgences like the first 4 issues of Jack Kirby's "The Eternals," I found it: Avengers issue 141, penciled by George Perez.

That afternoon, when we reconvened at our hotel to compare notes on the day, I showed Doug my prize. He laughed as he told me of his chance encounter with none other than George Perez. Apparently, they had shared an elevator ride in the hotel and discussed of all things, the panel. It was at this point that my inner-geek took over.

"Dude," I said, "you should call the hotel operator and have him paged in his room! See if he'll sign the cover!"

Within minutes, we were racing down the hall to catch an elevator up to the 14th floor to meet George Perez in his room just so he could scribble his name on the opening splash page of Avengers issue 141 for us. Much to my enjoyment, Perez had a great sense of humor about the whole story of seeing him at the panel and hunting down the issue and he was very gracious about signing it for us. Our meeting ended quickly as he left us with some parting wisdom, "be sure you take that out of the plastic and enjoy it. "

What fanboy in their right mind wouldn't?