Archive for April, 2006
What does it say about the current state of the mainstream media when our most prominent truth-tellers are comedians?
It’s been a serendipitous day. First, the college buddy I’m staying with in Connecticut got All the President’s Men in the mail from Netflix. Alan Pakula’s influential 1976 film (based on the book) profiled Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward’s hard-working journalistic muckraking (sans internet, cell phones, or computers in general), which uncovered Watergate and eventually led to President Nixon’s impeachment in 1974. The film is a love-letter to old-fashioned investigative journalism, and to the positive power of the press. As exemplified by Woodward and Bernstein, the media exists as another level of checks and balances, designed to keep a power-hungry administration from ignoring its constituents, and indeed, the law.
A few minutes after the film ended, I opened up my laptop and found myself watching Steven Colbert’s utterly scathing speech at the White House Correspondent’s dinner, which he had given mere hours earlier. Although I’m posting this the very night of Colbert’s speech, by the time you read this, you’ll probably already have seen his coruscating routine. If not, here is a transcription, and here is the video.
There’s so much more to say about Colbert’s speech, which is not only career-defining for him, but is also a watershed moment in New Media vs. Old Media. Well, maybe “watershed” is overstating things. How about a “water closet” moment? Regardless, the mainstream press has already downplayed his speech, which demonstrates the very timidity of the press that Colbert lambasted. Yet the living web will not let it die–and Colbert knew this. He was aware that his routine–delivered at a specialized members-only event and televised by the ratings-weakling C-SPAN–would be picked up and “syndicated” by the internet’s social bookmarking sites, blogosphere (ahem), and e-mailers. No big deal, right? Well, had Dubya’s father been openly mocked at a press event by a Colbert predecessor (say, Al Franken), the buck would have stopped there (a phrase which is in fact itself a presidential term). A newspaper or two might have mentioned it, but that’s a far cry from being able to actually watch the speech, and more importantly, share it.
Colbert knew this would happen. He knew that the power of one performance could accomplish more than anything he could do on his own show (the viewership of which will now skyrocket), and more than anything he could say in an editorial in any newspaper, magazine, or other form of Old Media. And someone was foolish (or brilliant) enough to give him that very stage. If Americans see the straining and helpless look of discomfort on Bush’s face upon getting so openly mocked, Colbert may manage to call to fore the elephant in the room and the utter ridiculousness of the times we live in, through a mere act of comedy.
Normally I’m opposed to writing “pun intended,” because it seems like a stupid practice–if the reader gets it, they get it, and if not, it’s a throwaway anyway. Few plays on words warrant their own neon sign advertising their oh-so-clever existence. But damnit, when I said “elephant in the room,” it could have either meant, “we’re living with one of the worst presidents in history yet much of the mainstream press and a third of our country sits back and passively approves of him,” or it could have meant, “Bush, whose political party symbol is an elephant, was physically in the room while Colbert was lampooning him.” And this was the best part of Colbert’s performance–he ripped the most powerful man in the world, to his face! And while I may despise our current administration, I’m not an impractical America hater–if someone tried this routine in most of the rest of the world, they wouldn’t be able to comfortably return to their regularly-scheduled TV show the following week. They probably wouldn’t be allowed to return to their regularly-scheduled life.
There’s a bumper sticker out there that reads, “No one died when Clinton lied.” In this case I’d like to add, “No one died when Nixon lied.” And both of those presidents were almost impeached (Nixon, or course, had to resign to avoid it). There’s a big difference between Watergate and the not-even-elected-presidency-of-Bushgate, but in terms of calling out a corrupt administration (and in light of having just watched All the President’s Men), it certainly says something about the state of the mainstream media when our modern-day Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward are Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.
And yes, it’s possible that people did indeed die when Nixon lied. But not thirty-five thousand.
DVguru is part of the Weblogs Inc. network, which is owned by AOL/Time Warner. MTV is part of Viacom. I now work for two of the largest media corporations in the world. I’m a corporate whore.
On the eve of leaving North Carolina, I wrote a very long, very unfocused treatise on my southern-fried home state. I didn”t post it to this site, because… it was very long and very unfocused. Not that excessive length or a lack of focus has ever prevented me from posting an entry before. But instead of re-writing the piece entirely and leaving most of it on the cutting-room floor, I chose to break it up into smaller chunks’my thinking was, if someone’s going to read a post of mine and think, “‘that was a waste of my time,” then I’d prefer to have them think that in response to a 300-word post, rather than one approaching 3,000.
So much for that. After I cut two chunks out of the longer Carolina piece and posted them individually (as Things to Do in Durham When You’re Dead and Pushing the Limit), I was left with a bunch of orphaned paragraphs that didn’t really fit together, but weren’t really posts in and of themselves, either. I will now dump these leftovers here. You’re psyched for this, I can tell.
After re-reading what I originally wrote, I decided to insert intermediary post titles to cover up just how meandering and unfocused the narrative was, and added little self-criticisms in italics. This extra layer of self-absorbed-reflection-upon-self-reflection is the reason behind the “gazing at my own navel-gazing” post title.
You think you’re clever, don’t you. Well, no one cares.
THINGS TO DO IN DURHAM WHEN YOU’RE A DUKE LACROSSE PLAYER
Since I initially wrote about my home town of Durham a couple weeks ago, the city has jumped into the nationwide media spotlight, thanks to Duke’s (white) lacrosse team allegedly raping a (black) stripper from nearby NCCU. Having spent time on both campuses myself, I’m not incredibly surprised that an incident of this magnitude occurred, because the racial segregation in the town is frankly severe. Anyone who believes otherwise hasn’t really been to downtown Durham. What did surprise me about the incident is that the stereotypical racial roles were reversed in this case–rather than a lower-income black male being the accused aggressor and an upper-class white female being the accusing victim, this case calls to light an opposite situation. Given the income divide in the city and the general proximity of Duke’s student housing to Durham’s housing projects, if I had to pick the most likely nationwide scandal involving rape and multiple Duke student-athletes, I wouldn’t have picked this one.
That’s because you’re a racist.
Whatever the case, vast inequity is at the heart of both crimes; rather than an opportunity-less southern minority lashing out at an upper-crust hapless victim, you have a bunch of privileged white northern lacrosse players who feel entitled to everything in life, spending time in a boring southern town and taking their pent-up aggressions out on someone they feel they should have domain over.
As I write this, the case is all over the national news; indictments were just handed down for the arrest of two of the Duke lacrosse players, with a third apparently on the way. The case is going to go to trial, and like a racially-reversed Kobe Bryant rape case, the truth about what really happened will never be clear. Ultimately I’m glad that this incident, if nothing else, has cast a light on the racial and economic tensions present in my home town–Duke enjoys a lofty reputation that it doesn’t deserve (and I’m not just saying that as a rabid UNC fan).
In part, you probably are. And that’s sad, that a sports allegiance would affect your judgement so much, you irrational jingoist.
THINGS TO DO IN DURHAM WHEN YOU’RE DEAD (PART 2)
IMDb notes that the film whose title I modified for my own uses a few weeks ago, Things to do in Denver When You’re Dead, in turn takes its title from a Warren Zevon song of the same name. Zevon (“Werewolves of London”) himself was inspired by Jack Kerouac’s On the Road–one of the many books on my “to read” list that I still haven’t gotten to, despite being on the road myself quite a bit in recent times. In his book, Keruoac writes, “Down in Denver, Down in Denver / All I did was die.”
For me to say the same thing about Durham would be overly harsh, so I’ll amend his sentiment to “Down in Durham, Down in Durham / All I did was waste my time.”
You’ve always blown at poetry.
On one hand, I really do feel that way. On the other, it’d be wrong to say that I didn’t accomplish anything since I left my job as a video producer in Durham last year. I started this site (which has arguably been one of the best decisions of my life), I applied for and won a filmmaking grant, I put together a proposal for an as-yet unannounced project that’s not at all film-related (but which has an inordinate amount of potential), and I’ve managed to land a job in NYC (more on that at the end of this). But people tend to judge your life by your career and your career only–”what do you do?” is the first question everyone asks you–and by that measuring stick, I haven’t accomplished much with my time off.
But that’s bullshit. All of my friends say I’m lucky to have known for years what I want to do in life, but the truth of the matter is, film is only one of my many interests. When recent final-fourer Glen “Big Baby” Davis was asked at his high school All-American basketball game what he liked to eat, his response was: “everything.” That’s a pretty good answer, for someone who likes food. And it’s the same response I’d give to the ubiquitous “what do you want to do in life?” question.
Really? Even theoretical calculus?
HOW TO DO WHAT YOU LOVE: DON’T GO TO FILM SCHOOL
Indeed, many people who think they know what they want to do early in life–and who jumpstart their careers accordingly–end up being wrong. Figuring out what you love, and finding a way to do it for a living–which is not the same thing as merely doing what you’re good at for a living–is a feat that only a small percentage of the workforce ever accomplishes. Paul Graham makes this point much better than I in his extremely-relevant-to-twentysomethings essay, How to Do What You Love.
While we’re on the topic of relevant essays by established industry players, Mark Cuban recently wrote a post titled Getting Paid to Learn, which, for the purposes of this site, might as well be titled “Don’t go to Film School”. Cuban’s not saying that formal education is a bad idea, and despite the title of my site, neither am I; but we’re both in agreement that paying for specialized education is often unjustified in many fields. To me, business and film are two primary examples of areas that you’re already equipped to start working in once you’ve got your B.A. in hand (and often before that); in the long run, your graduate education in film or business won’t make a whole lot of difference, because underneath it all, you either have it or you don’t. In the short term, removing the constraints of school and pursuing your own interests will allow you to develop faster than if you’d chosen a specialized field of study and stuck with it for three to six years, regardless of any doubts in your mind about your decision. That said, every area of expertise is different with regards to higher education, and certain degrees–e.g, law or medical–you pretty much have to get.
You either have it or you don’t? And I suppose you’re saying you have it?
A friend’s father was quoted as saying, “work is so bad, they pay you to do it.” On one hand, it’s a back-to-basics truism; on the other hand, people let this mentality eventually drag their standards down to the point where they find themselves saying they “like” their job, even though it’s the same job that they never saw themselves doing for more than a couple of years–ten years ago. Rather than truly liking their job, they’ve merely convinced themselves that it’s a decent occupation because it sucks less than some of their other options, like being a fishmonger, or being poor.
Ultimately, I’m not sure that I’d be as secure in my own aspirations if I hadn’t had the time and space down in Durham to really figure things out–and I have the solid support structure of my family to thank for my ability to do that. I was able to quit my corporate video job and move back in with my parents, which allowed me to stretch out the chunk of change I’d saved from my previous gig. Nevertheless, being stuck in a one-horse town with a dead-end job can more than counterbalance any support structure you have, or any potential you exhibit.
Why’d you cut out the paragraph where you told your family you loved them for their support?
Because no one reads this site (I could probably put a period here) for that kind of stuff, and I can tell them in person that I love them, which means a bit more.
Aha! A third-level of navel-gazing emerges–a responding-to-the-self-questioning-voice, voice–as demonstrated by the bolded AND italicized font.
Despite the lack of options in Durham, I tried to pull off a couple of promising projects with some friends, and those attempts came crashing down–along with a friendship, in one case. But lack of career options and weak partnerships are external factors; as Hollywood mogul Barry Diller recently stated, “talent outs,” which is to say, you’ll ultimately overcome the external obstacles if you’re internally gifted.
[EXCISED A SELF-PITYING PARAGRAPH ABOUT MY CHRONIC SHOULDER PROBLEMS AND THE IMPORTANCE OF OVERCOMING INTERNAL OBSTACLES]
Nice. By doing that, you just pitied yourself anyway, in a pomo/meta/other-bullshit-term, self-conscious way.
Yeah, but if you were a “real” artist, this is the point at which you’d devolve the entire post into a navel-gazing, inner civil war of sorts, in order to make a timely point about the metaverse created by the post-millenial rise of blogging, social network profile-writing, and other forms of… navel-gazing.
True. But you’re not a “real” artist. Yet.
DEFEATED IN THE SOUTH, LIKE THE CONFEDERATE ARMY, BUT I SHALL RISE AGAIN, UNLIKE THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
There was something about the prevailing attitude around Durham that I just couldn’t identify with. Something that I wanted to run from as fast as I possibly could. Out and about, something in the air just screamed, “defeated.”
A small part of me worried that the longer I was down there, the sooner I’d end up giving up too. Indeed, many of the most alternative people I knew growing up–most of whom I didn’t get along with particularly well, because I wasn’t ROCK! enough (and because you just correctly used “whom” in a sentence)–ended up on standard, boring career paths, and they seemed to be happy about it. Their unexpected act of conformity made me realize that I’d much rather be dealing with someone who doesn’t buy into anything than someone who’s been assimilated by the system. Suffice it to say that I liked my classmates more when they were wearing studded collars and torn t-shirts to school, than I did once they started wearing ties and slacks to work.
Maybe it’s because it’s what I know (and the grass is always greener on the other side), but something about the suburban lifestyle just doesn’t appeal to me. A McMansion with a trimmed lawn and a 4-car garage seems like a nightmare, rather than the fully realized American Dream. Thus, in seeking out the pulse of ambition in the big city, I suppose I’m demonstrating that I’d rather be surrounded by hustlers than complacency. That’s fine; down in the suburban south, if you were trying to accomplish something, many people got a look of distrust in their eyes, because they couldn’t easily pigeonhole you (especially when you’re of mixed race and have no discernable southern accent). They’d rather have you give up and buy into the system, so everyone can be comfortable together, in their conformity and defeatedness. Fuck that.
Defeatedness isn’t a word.
Shut up.
Tommorrow is my first day at MTV (the story of which I’ll share later). I’ll be working at 1515 Broadway in Times Square, in the heart of the most famous city in the world, at the center of the (pop-) cultural universe. You can’t get much more “city” than this. I wrote about my intentions of getting out of Durham and moving to the big apple back in June of 2005, so the idea’s been gestating for a full 9 months. Now that I’ve left the womb of home, it’s time for me to pop my head out into the world. We’ll see if I get slapped.
After a feature I wrote for DVguru made it onto the front page of digg, Slashdot, and tech.memeorandum over the weekend (and got linked to by over 250 web sites), the last thing I should do is write a post on my own site about computers. I’m a filmmaker, not a nerd/geek/other-derogatory-techie-term, right?
Whatever. I’m too comfortable with my offline machinations to be self-conscious about my recent foray into online tech journalism. Although I will say that I learned a valuable lesson about the current state of the internet and the way traffic spikes–frankly, for the feature, my review methodology was not at all sound, and I was merely trying to get the review up before the weekend officially started, yet the timing ended up being more important than anything else. Regardless, I found it amusing when, in response to my recent propensity for blogging, someone called me a “nerrrrrrd” (via IM), especially when that someone hosts a weekly videogame show on GameSpot (just kidding, Rich).
Anyway, after much finagling, my MacBook Pro is on its way. Yes, I’m switching to a Mac. Why? Well, in this case, Final Cut Pro was a strong enough gateway drug to convince me to pay a visit to the dealer. Also, while I’m all-too familiar with the innards of PCs, I was tired of the paradox of choice–in Windows, there are too many applications and controls, and I just want the damn thing to work so I can be productive. I’ll keep my HP workstation around as a big, messy box of applications, storage space, and virus-protectors, and I’ll use the Mac laptop as a nice, pared-down, mobile model of productivity. That’s the theory, at least.
There are a number of drawbacks to my decision to switch to Mac, chief of which is my inability to use Microsoft OneNote, which is a terrific idea/journal/organizer program. Furthermore, one thing is undeniable: PCs are cheaper. And seeing as I haven’t been gainfully employed in almost a year, I was asked by a friend, “how in the hell are you affording this?” Good question.
After spending most the day in a Connecticut coffee shop, writing by hand on blank, unlined paper (I accidentally left my legal pad at a friend’s house in DC), I realized it was time to bite the bullet. So how does a starving artist with no full-time employment afford not only a MacBook Pro, but also another nonessential Apple purchase made back in December? If you head over to Apple.com and order a 2GHz MacBook Pro and 60GB video iPod, with tax, you’re looking at a hefty fee of $3,100. In my case, though, the two devices are going to end up costing me almost nothing. Here’s how:
-$2000: My Emerging Artist Grant from the NEA/DAC. I’m going to end up splitting the $2k between the MacBook and a copy of Final Cut Studio, but for now, it’s all going towards the laptop.
-$310: I actually got a free iPod from freeipods.com (I would not, NOT recommend this to anyone else), and promptly sold it on eBay (this was back when I was still anti-Apple).
-$267: My old MP3 player, a Rio Karma, bit the dust while it was still covered under Best Buy’s extended replacement plan, and they sent me a full refund. I used this towards the new iPod.
-$200: Amazon.com does not have physical retail stores like Apple does, so there is no sales tax.
-$150: Amazon also has a substantial mail-in rebate on the laptop.
-$75: I actually signed up for the Amazon VISA card, because of the rewards you get on a purchase of this size, and because…
-$30: Amazon also offers an instant discount for signing up for their card (this is the first time I’ve ever bit on one of these offers).
So, when it’s all said and done, for over $3,000 of Apple hardware, what did I pay out-of-pocket?
$68.
Here in New York, that’ll get you a steak, a vegetarian dish for your date, and a couple of cocktails. Depending on the restaurant, maybe just the steak.
If you’re an affluent first-worlder (not a word, I know), being cheap is one of the ugliest qualities you can possess–it’s just paper, it’s just numbers, it’s just money. I’m not trying to encourage penny-penching. But if being smart with your money can enable you–and I consider both of these purchases to enable me to get a lot of work done in the short-term, and to be a better filmmaker in the long run–then it’s obviously worth it. Thanks to the Durham Arts Council for the grant (this is a sad excuse for a thank you post, but my original post was lost to the wolves and the time for re-writing it has passed), and thanks to…
Wait, I almost forgot–as a filmmaker, both of these items are tax-deductible! By the time I’m done cooking the books, they’re going to be paying me.
These days I’m staying with a college buddy in Connecticut. It’s not quite New York, but it’s a hell of a lot closer than North Carolina, and I’ve been periodically hopping the train into the city. Additionally I’ve started writing for DVguru, a film technology blog (on my way up to NYC last month to pursue a gig that seems never to have materialized, I saw this post and figured I’d apply). Summer has been rearing its head occasionally in these parts, with a warm day followed by a cold week, and my job search has followed suit–things seem to briefly heat up, and then promptly cool off. Hurry up and wait. Regardless, I will have more to contribute to the actual storyline of this site (“Ryan Bilsborrow-Koo tries to start a film career in New York”) soon. Stay tuned.
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