Thursday, May 15, 2003
I'm listening to KEXP -- I don't like late night shows, and it's only early afternoon in Seattle.
Every once in a while I am reminded of those dream jobs that I've always regarded as absolutely fantastic fulfillment-inducing occupations that I have not yet taken any kind of steps towards achieving: being a radio DJ or backup/studio/lounge/non-touring singer. Right now it's the former that I am contemplating.
I mean, what can possibly be more nurturing than having your own radio show? I would love to play people music, brief them on the day's news, crack jokes for them and talk to them on the phone! Given a choice, I would prefer the early morning show -- I've always felt special about the moment when the city starts waking up. When I was in high school and had to wake up early every morning, I used to set my stereo to come alive 15 minutes before I needed to be up and lie in bed for that quarter hour, feeling good and a part of the working crowd...
In fact, I've always felt special about the Radio -- and I think this is one attitude that was subliminally transmitted by the environment I grew up in. During Communism, the media was, naturally, controlled by the Government. The only reliable source of information was Radio Free Europe -- officially banned but listened to by most everyone -- which broadcast from Paris. Tuning in was a pain, as most receivers were antiquated and satellite communications were in their infancy, but this only rendered the endeavor more adventurous and heroic. The Radio thus became a mark of identity, a symbol of the opposition, and I could go on in this vein but I'm sure the horse is dead.
Fact is, wherever I go I always tune in to the local radio station. I never feel settled there unless I do so. Listening to the Radio is a means of becoming connected to a place, becoming a part of the local population. The Radio brings the people together in the truest sense: it provides the common ground. And because the Radio is by far less popular than television, it is able to be more intimate and personal. These days, you can be what you listen to; you cannot be what you watch, though (unless you are a sad, pathetic fuck -- which is not such a rare occurrence, to be honest).
Listening to the Radio also gives me a certain sense of safety and comfort. It keeps me from driving away from myself; it lets me know that there is life out there, and that I, in my turn, am alive in my little hole. Television never gives me that impression; it is callous, it doesn't give a rat's ass whether I am still breathing or not. When I die, the Radio will attend my funeral and sing Amazing Grace over the casket (or maybe not, cos I'm Jewish; oh well...); Television will content itself with sending flowers.
Um... what was I saying? Oh yes, I'd love to be a DJ. There is something enthralling about that bodyless voice. There is something enthralling about being that bodyless voice, having omnipotence over the playlist and thus over people's moods, being at once extremely personal and extremely remote... Oooh, college radio, here I come!
Every once in a while I am reminded of those dream jobs that I've always regarded as absolutely fantastic fulfillment-inducing occupations that I have not yet taken any kind of steps towards achieving: being a radio DJ or backup/studio/lounge/non-touring singer. Right now it's the former that I am contemplating.
I mean, what can possibly be more nurturing than having your own radio show? I would love to play people music, brief them on the day's news, crack jokes for them and talk to them on the phone! Given a choice, I would prefer the early morning show -- I've always felt special about the moment when the city starts waking up. When I was in high school and had to wake up early every morning, I used to set my stereo to come alive 15 minutes before I needed to be up and lie in bed for that quarter hour, feeling good and a part of the working crowd...
In fact, I've always felt special about the Radio -- and I think this is one attitude that was subliminally transmitted by the environment I grew up in. During Communism, the media was, naturally, controlled by the Government. The only reliable source of information was Radio Free Europe -- officially banned but listened to by most everyone -- which broadcast from Paris. Tuning in was a pain, as most receivers were antiquated and satellite communications were in their infancy, but this only rendered the endeavor more adventurous and heroic. The Radio thus became a mark of identity, a symbol of the opposition, and I could go on in this vein but I'm sure the horse is dead.
Fact is, wherever I go I always tune in to the local radio station. I never feel settled there unless I do so. Listening to the Radio is a means of becoming connected to a place, becoming a part of the local population. The Radio brings the people together in the truest sense: it provides the common ground. And because the Radio is by far less popular than television, it is able to be more intimate and personal. These days, you can be what you listen to; you cannot be what you watch, though (unless you are a sad, pathetic fuck -- which is not such a rare occurrence, to be honest).
Listening to the Radio also gives me a certain sense of safety and comfort. It keeps me from driving away from myself; it lets me know that there is life out there, and that I, in my turn, am alive in my little hole. Television never gives me that impression; it is callous, it doesn't give a rat's ass whether I am still breathing or not. When I die, the Radio will attend my funeral and sing Amazing Grace over the casket (or maybe not, cos I'm Jewish; oh well...); Television will content itself with sending flowers.
Um... what was I saying? Oh yes, I'd love to be a DJ. There is something enthralling about that bodyless voice. There is something enthralling about being that bodyless voice, having omnipotence over the playlist and thus over people's moods, being at once extremely personal and extremely remote... Oooh, college radio, here I come!
Tuesday, May 13, 2003
Porn is great. I love porn!
Ever since the Sexual Revolution of the 70s, when it became possible to talk about sex in media belonging to the civil society, and not just in restrictive scientiffic circles, a great number of people have written about porn. (I would like to name-drop, but I cannot think of any one name at the moment. Does this make my statement less authoritative? I'm sure that, if I do a search in a specialty library, I can come up with at least a couple dozen influential studies, articles and books on the topic. But it is 23:45, the library is closed and I'm only writing a little ditty in argumentative prose. Google, on the other hand, is just Google; a search on "pornography study article" generated the following: pornography & violence, a study, a report & an article -- www.apnic.net/mailing-lists/apple/ archive/2002/01/msg00000.html; Critique of Rimm Article on Online Pornography -- elab.vanderbilt.edu/research/topics/ cyberporn/sigel.sauer.critique.htm; eLab - Research: Hot Topics : Cyberporn -- elab.vanderbilt.edu/research/topics/cyberporn/; Study: Web Filters Block Health Information (TechNews.com) -- www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/ A37370-2002Dec10.html. And so on and so forth. Ahem. Let me resume.) Whether their attitude was critical, condescending or understanding, most of them pointed out that pornography is one thing: Degrading to its Objects.
Contemporary secular society, which no longer imposes moral sanctions on fornication, keeps incriminating lust. Think about it. Is it not a widespread cliche that men do not respect women who are sexual? The girls you bed must be sultry. The girl you marry must be wholesome. Reversely, a "good man" is not supposed to go to strip clubs or keep his Playboys on the coffee table. Are there not countless scandals generated by people of "serious" affiliations (college students, professors, politicians) who pose in porn mags? Why is that? Because exposed breasts are the opposite of respectable; because an erect penis is the opposite of trustworthy; but, most of all, because the idea that you are the object of masturbatory experiences automatically neutralizes the idea that you are valuable as a person.
People. If it is freedom and equality that we care about, porn is the greatest blessing that's been bestowed on us in the past 100 years. Porn is one of the most democratic forms of expression around. Anything, and I mean anything can be (and is) the subject of a porn flick: innocent schoolgirls and dirty old priapic men, supermodels and the severely obese, Germans and Jews, professors and chamber maids, waxed asscracks and hairy nipples, and, um, dogs. Porn is all-inclusive. It is levelling. It blends everything that the human mind can fathom as an object of arousal into a sweet, musky fluid.
And the best thing is, value judgements have absolutely nothing to do with it. As I'm sure anyone who's ever come to the picture of anyone else can tell you, achieving an orgasm in the virtual company of somebody does not generate any change whatsoever in the way you relate to that person. Masturbation is not a bond, it's not a relationship; it's just you, your hand, your mind and your secretions. I'm sure that when men meet Tiffany Mynx, they freak out, babble, try to get her autograph and then brag to all their friends that Tiffany smiled at them; they don't spit on her, pull her hair and say "Suck it, bitch!". Lord knows, if I met Sam Stern I'd blush horribly and be lost for words...
To sum up my ditty, porn is exquisitely egalitarian. It is beneficiently undiscriminating. It makes stars out of absolutely anyone. And it's a lot of fun. Isn't it great?
Ever since the Sexual Revolution of the 70s, when it became possible to talk about sex in media belonging to the civil society, and not just in restrictive scientiffic circles, a great number of people have written about porn. (I would like to name-drop, but I cannot think of any one name at the moment. Does this make my statement less authoritative? I'm sure that, if I do a search in a specialty library, I can come up with at least a couple dozen influential studies, articles and books on the topic. But it is 23:45, the library is closed and I'm only writing a little ditty in argumentative prose. Google, on the other hand, is just Google; a search on "pornography study article" generated the following: pornography & violence, a study, a report & an article -- www.apnic.net/mailing-lists/apple/ archive/2002/01/msg00000.html; Critique of Rimm Article on Online Pornography -- elab.vanderbilt.edu/research/topics/ cyberporn/sigel.sauer.critique.htm; eLab - Research: Hot Topics : Cyberporn -- elab.vanderbilt.edu/research/topics/cyberporn/; Study: Web Filters Block Health Information (TechNews.com) -- www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/ A37370-2002Dec10.html. And so on and so forth. Ahem. Let me resume.) Whether their attitude was critical, condescending or understanding, most of them pointed out that pornography is one thing: Degrading to its Objects.
Contemporary secular society, which no longer imposes moral sanctions on fornication, keeps incriminating lust. Think about it. Is it not a widespread cliche that men do not respect women who are sexual? The girls you bed must be sultry. The girl you marry must be wholesome. Reversely, a "good man" is not supposed to go to strip clubs or keep his Playboys on the coffee table. Are there not countless scandals generated by people of "serious" affiliations (college students, professors, politicians) who pose in porn mags? Why is that? Because exposed breasts are the opposite of respectable; because an erect penis is the opposite of trustworthy; but, most of all, because the idea that you are the object of masturbatory experiences automatically neutralizes the idea that you are valuable as a person.
People. If it is freedom and equality that we care about, porn is the greatest blessing that's been bestowed on us in the past 100 years. Porn is one of the most democratic forms of expression around. Anything, and I mean anything can be (and is) the subject of a porn flick: innocent schoolgirls and dirty old priapic men, supermodels and the severely obese, Germans and Jews, professors and chamber maids, waxed asscracks and hairy nipples, and, um, dogs. Porn is all-inclusive. It is levelling. It blends everything that the human mind can fathom as an object of arousal into a sweet, musky fluid.
And the best thing is, value judgements have absolutely nothing to do with it. As I'm sure anyone who's ever come to the picture of anyone else can tell you, achieving an orgasm in the virtual company of somebody does not generate any change whatsoever in the way you relate to that person. Masturbation is not a bond, it's not a relationship; it's just you, your hand, your mind and your secretions. I'm sure that when men meet Tiffany Mynx, they freak out, babble, try to get her autograph and then brag to all their friends that Tiffany smiled at them; they don't spit on her, pull her hair and say "Suck it, bitch!". Lord knows, if I met Sam Stern I'd blush horribly and be lost for words...
To sum up my ditty, porn is exquisitely egalitarian. It is beneficiently undiscriminating. It makes stars out of absolutely anyone. And it's a lot of fun. Isn't it great?
Sunday, May 11, 2003
I saw "The Pianist" today. I was impressed.
I'd seen the trailer about a month before, and thought: "Hmm, now that looks like a movie I could sob violently to... Should be fun!". So, today, I stepped confidently into the theater, anticipating a liberating emotional release. To my surprise, however, it was better than that.
"Yet another Holocaust story", you will say. Well, yes, it is. But its main virtue is that The Pianist is, truly, the story of Wladyslaw Szpilman and the way he survives in Warsaw during the Occupation. Unlike, say, "Saving Private Ryan", the aim of the film is not to show you that war is monstrous ("I learned something today..."), that Nazism was disgraceful but not all Nazis were evil, and that Gentiles did not hesitate to help Jews in spite of the danger.
If I were a writer for the NME, I would describe "The Pianist" as Chaim Potok's Asher Lev meets David Lean's Doctor Zhivago. The story is tender and gently introspective; Szpilman is a melancholy artist whose survival is not due to strength, but to softness and flexibility. He does not resist events; they envelop him and drag him along. Like Lev, he is quiet yet determined to hold on to his talent; like the Zhivago played by Omar Sharif, he is an observer. In fact, I am almost certain Polanski took inspiration from David Lean's work. The two films are similar in many ways: the wide epic dimension, the spectacular and meticulously-crafted scenery, the treatment of the characters, even the use of music to a certain extent.
Another interesting fact is the way historical facts pertaining to the Holocaust are interpreted. The film deals with the issue of Jewish resistance -- very admirable! Also, the film makes it clear that not all Jews are good and virtuous -- actually, not all Jews are Just Jews, their individual characters are well-defined. Szpilman himself is only marginally Jewish in what the story is concerned. Of course, everything that happens to him is because he is Jewish, but his identity is so natural, homogeneous and unquestioned, that saying "he is persecuted because he is Jewish" becomes akin to saying "he is persecuted because he is human" -- whether this is the merit of Polanski or Brody, I cannot say. The single tense moment in this regard occurs when he is pulled out of the line of people heading for the trains; he tries to get back in line at first, but then, realizing that he has just been saved, runs back towards the city and attempts to conceal himself in the crowd. [I sobbed violently.] Still, what breaks Szpilman's heart (he sobs violently, too) is not an inner conflict regarding the abandonment of racial identity, but the thought that he is still alive while his family is, most likely, not. Szpilman is not a self-hating Jew... :)
From many points of view, "The Pianist" is the most ecumenical film based on the Holocaust that I have seen. A sign of the times, perhaps...?
I'd seen the trailer about a month before, and thought: "Hmm, now that looks like a movie I could sob violently to... Should be fun!". So, today, I stepped confidently into the theater, anticipating a liberating emotional release. To my surprise, however, it was better than that.
"Yet another Holocaust story", you will say. Well, yes, it is. But its main virtue is that The Pianist is, truly, the story of Wladyslaw Szpilman and the way he survives in Warsaw during the Occupation. Unlike, say, "Saving Private Ryan", the aim of the film is not to show you that war is monstrous ("I learned something today..."), that Nazism was disgraceful but not all Nazis were evil, and that Gentiles did not hesitate to help Jews in spite of the danger.
If I were a writer for the NME, I would describe "The Pianist" as Chaim Potok's Asher Lev meets David Lean's Doctor Zhivago. The story is tender and gently introspective; Szpilman is a melancholy artist whose survival is not due to strength, but to softness and flexibility. He does not resist events; they envelop him and drag him along. Like Lev, he is quiet yet determined to hold on to his talent; like the Zhivago played by Omar Sharif, he is an observer. In fact, I am almost certain Polanski took inspiration from David Lean's work. The two films are similar in many ways: the wide epic dimension, the spectacular and meticulously-crafted scenery, the treatment of the characters, even the use of music to a certain extent.
Another interesting fact is the way historical facts pertaining to the Holocaust are interpreted. The film deals with the issue of Jewish resistance -- very admirable! Also, the film makes it clear that not all Jews are good and virtuous -- actually, not all Jews are Just Jews, their individual characters are well-defined. Szpilman himself is only marginally Jewish in what the story is concerned. Of course, everything that happens to him is because he is Jewish, but his identity is so natural, homogeneous and unquestioned, that saying "he is persecuted because he is Jewish" becomes akin to saying "he is persecuted because he is human" -- whether this is the merit of Polanski or Brody, I cannot say. The single tense moment in this regard occurs when he is pulled out of the line of people heading for the trains; he tries to get back in line at first, but then, realizing that he has just been saved, runs back towards the city and attempts to conceal himself in the crowd. [I sobbed violently.] Still, what breaks Szpilman's heart (he sobs violently, too) is not an inner conflict regarding the abandonment of racial identity, but the thought that he is still alive while his family is, most likely, not. Szpilman is not a self-hating Jew... :)
From many points of view, "The Pianist" is the most ecumenical film based on the Holocaust that I have seen. A sign of the times, perhaps...?
