For once the Democrats in the U. S. Senate are standing their ground on something and have really blocked Bolton's nomination, for the time being. Meanwhile, an embittered and frustrated Bush White House threatens to send Bolton to the UN as a recess appointment.
Really, Congress needs to limit the use of this "recess appointment" power. I can see it making sense for the executive to appoint someone to temporarily fill an important position when Congress is out of session for extended periods and it is impracticable to bring them back together just to confirm somebody. But for the President to use to thwart the express will of the People of the United States as determined by the Congress is a violation of the separation of powers and just plain dangerous.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Hollywood films Reflect Political Tensions
(:)(:) for the new Star Wars film; (:)(:)(:)(: for Cinderella Man.
I have always been fascinated by the extent to which no matter what era a movie is set in, its dialogue, vision and look reflect the times in which it is made as much or more as the subject it purports to examine. These movies, one so-so, one very good, inject the political and economic realities of our time into outer space and the Great Depression, respectively.
Of the two, Cinderella Man is by far the better film. This is the true life comeback story of boxer James Braddock (Russell Crowe) and his trainer (Paul Giamatti) and his wife (Renee Zellweger). Set in New York in the height of the Depression, one can't help but see the backdrop and dialogue of increasing poverty and increasing wealth as commentary on our own times. Whether it's the perspective of the director, Ron Howard, or the screenwriter, Cliff Hollingworth, or merely my own, it's there. The terrifying visions of Hooverville, and the way in which they refer to it often and with reference to the President lay the blame for the economy and people's misery squarely at his feet.
Still, the images of fat cats vs. regular guys, as compelling as they are as commentary on current times, are subtly introduced--one sees no agenda here other than bringing a compelling story to the screen.
It is a compelling story, by the way, very moving and sentimental (Ron Howard) but entirely believable. I really loved it and the only reason I hold off the full 4th snout is because the film breaks no new ground.
Russell Crowe is one of the greatest screen actors of my lifetime--this is not his most challenging role, but he does it very well. He makes us care deeply about James Braddock and share the excitement and the hope of everyone else who does.
I'm glad Crowe does so because it took me months to recover from a vision of Russell Crowe that I glimpsed one night while channel surfing: in a pony tail singing lead in a band of his own assemblage, there was Crowe screaming out lyrics to a song one can only assume he had written, the title of which could easily make the cover of the next Spinal Tap album, to wit, "Swallow my gift." (I still shudder when I think of it).
On the Star Wars: revenge of the sith or whatever it's called, this is not a good film, even by Star Wars standards: the fights go on and on and get more and more ludicrous until we're having to see a battle to the death served over a hellscape of molten lava (and that comes with a side of molten flesh).
But what was most interesting about this film, and apparently has been fodder for bloggers, left and right, for weeks, is the unabashed, completely not subtle linkage of the Dark Side siths with the Bush administration. For more on the fun moments in dialogue and parallels see this USA Today article.
What I find astonishing is that it seems to be the right wingers who are most avidly pointing out the parallels between the Bush and the Darth Vader administrations--some are even calling for a boycott. You would really think that it would not be in anyone's interest to point out that a popular film with great anti-heroes is really about their leader. Since they point it out anyway, it makes one think that they are trying to scare off future efforts and perhaps are afraid that the message will shape or penetrate young impressionable minds.
Or, perhaps this is a precursor to a return to the Hollywood black list, could George Lucas be the first such casualty?
I have always been fascinated by the extent to which no matter what era a movie is set in, its dialogue, vision and look reflect the times in which it is made as much or more as the subject it purports to examine. These movies, one so-so, one very good, inject the political and economic realities of our time into outer space and the Great Depression, respectively.
Of the two, Cinderella Man is by far the better film. This is the true life comeback story of boxer James Braddock (Russell Crowe) and his trainer (Paul Giamatti) and his wife (Renee Zellweger). Set in New York in the height of the Depression, one can't help but see the backdrop and dialogue of increasing poverty and increasing wealth as commentary on our own times. Whether it's the perspective of the director, Ron Howard, or the screenwriter, Cliff Hollingworth, or merely my own, it's there. The terrifying visions of Hooverville, and the way in which they refer to it often and with reference to the President lay the blame for the economy and people's misery squarely at his feet.
Still, the images of fat cats vs. regular guys, as compelling as they are as commentary on current times, are subtly introduced--one sees no agenda here other than bringing a compelling story to the screen.
It is a compelling story, by the way, very moving and sentimental (Ron Howard) but entirely believable. I really loved it and the only reason I hold off the full 4th snout is because the film breaks no new ground.
Russell Crowe is one of the greatest screen actors of my lifetime--this is not his most challenging role, but he does it very well. He makes us care deeply about James Braddock and share the excitement and the hope of everyone else who does.
I'm glad Crowe does so because it took me months to recover from a vision of Russell Crowe that I glimpsed one night while channel surfing: in a pony tail singing lead in a band of his own assemblage, there was Crowe screaming out lyrics to a song one can only assume he had written, the title of which could easily make the cover of the next Spinal Tap album, to wit, "Swallow my gift." (I still shudder when I think of it).
On the Star Wars: revenge of the sith or whatever it's called, this is not a good film, even by Star Wars standards: the fights go on and on and get more and more ludicrous until we're having to see a battle to the death served over a hellscape of molten lava (and that comes with a side of molten flesh).
But what was most interesting about this film, and apparently has been fodder for bloggers, left and right, for weeks, is the unabashed, completely not subtle linkage of the Dark Side siths with the Bush administration. For more on the fun moments in dialogue and parallels see this USA Today article.
What I find astonishing is that it seems to be the right wingers who are most avidly pointing out the parallels between the Bush and the Darth Vader administrations--some are even calling for a boycott. You would really think that it would not be in anyone's interest to point out that a popular film with great anti-heroes is really about their leader. Since they point it out anyway, it makes one think that they are trying to scare off future efforts and perhaps are afraid that the message will shape or penetrate young impressionable minds.
Or, perhaps this is a precursor to a return to the Hollywood black list, could George Lucas be the first such casualty?
Thursday, June 16, 2005
The Bee and the Budget
I didn't like the headline in the Sacramento Bee this morning which reads "Budget Plan Voted Down: a Democratic proposal without tax hikes fails to entice GOP as -- no surprise -- a deadline passes" (the link above to the Bee story on-line has a different headline, but it's the same story).
The headline should have been "Republicans delay timely fair budget for ___ year in a row." Look, it may be old news to Sacramento insiders, but it's not well known to the public: because we are one of the only states in the country to require a 2/3rd vote to pass a budget, the people we elected to be the majority in the California legislature can't get a budget passed without getting a handful of radical rightwing Republicans to vote for it.
Because the Republicans are in the minority and their only power comes from their ability to block a budget and extract budget-busting pork projects for their district, they block it every year. This should be reported as such: Republicans block and delay the budget, Democrats don't.
The headline should have been "Republicans delay timely fair budget for ___ year in a row." Look, it may be old news to Sacramento insiders, but it's not well known to the public: because we are one of the only states in the country to require a 2/3rd vote to pass a budget, the people we elected to be the majority in the California legislature can't get a budget passed without getting a handful of radical rightwing Republicans to vote for it.
Because the Republicans are in the minority and their only power comes from their ability to block a budget and extract budget-busting pork projects for their district, they block it every year. This should be reported as such: Republicans block and delay the budget, Democrats don't.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
(:)(:)(:)(:) for Mad Hot Ballroom
This adorable documentary about a mandatory ballroom dancing competition for New York City 4th and 5th graders is impossibly moving. It's a lot about dancing, but it's also about coming of age, about children's attitudes towards life, love and sex and about adults' attitudes toward competition, teaching and children.
I almost can't think of anything more to say except that anyone who likes dancing, kids, the possibility of change or good good movies should see this one.
I almost can't think of anything more to say except that anyone who likes dancing, kids, the possibility of change or good good movies should see this one.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Love That Bob (radio, that is)
I am hooked the new on 92.1fm "Bob" radio station in Sacramento. Bill told me about the new Jack and Bob radio formats a few weeks ago and I listened with half an ear, "uh-uh...sounds good...oh really?" that sort of thing.
Then I found Bob at 92.1fm in Sacramento and I love that Bob. I'm also probably in the distinct minority of people my age in loving the 1950s Love That Bob tv show in reruns. I had a huge crush on Bob Cummings. Later I had a huge crush on Bob Crane from Hogan's Heroes and he turned out to be a pervert.
I like the name Bob because my children routinely call me Bob--it started with them having a cold and pronouncing "Mom" "Bob" and then it became a way of singling me out in a crowd of people all of whom have the name "Mom"--they call "Bob!" and somehow it cuts through the noise and gets my attention. I'm supposed to say "yes, Bob" or they get all bent out of shape and have to yell my name again, a process that can get exhausting. Needless to say, they love the concept, if not the actual music, of Bob radio and basically assume the station is named after me.
So these are the two new hip formats: Jack and Bob. Jack format plays hits from the 60s, 70s, 80, and 90's but they have to have been in the top 40. Bob plays those and also adds new songs from today and tunes that were not huge hits (but not many). Google Bob or Jack radio and the name of your city to find out in your area.
The key is that it is across genres and has these kinds of jarring transitions, known as "trainwrecks" in the DJ community. Like you'll go directly from Lively Up Yourself by Bob Marley to Hot Blooded by Foreigner and you'll like it.
The format is widely considered to have been iPod-inspired in the sense that the popularity of the "shuffle" setting on iPod (where you randomly hear songs from your entire music catalogue) has let commercial radio stations know that there is a market for that kind of wierd jarring transition.
On my iPod (yes, Bill recently gave me one for my birthday) it can be especially jarring. You could go from a broadway show tune to hip hop to a lecture from a buddhist nun (I'd like to see that make it onto mainstream radio). And yet, even something that wierd is taking hold in the popular imagination. In a related move, KPIG radio, long considered to be of interest only to people with freestanding bathtubs filled with baby marijuana plants, announced this week that it is expanding from Santa Cruz into the San Francisco bay area. KPIG is basically Bob radio that slept on a friend's couch last night and doesn't remember where he parked his car, but he's a smart friend and he brought books and cleans up after himself. It is sweet, edgy, funny, and real.
Bob radio is slicker, infinitely more self-conscious, packaged and commercial. In the end, I think Bob radio is for those of us who like to think of ourselves as hip but really just want to listen to tunes that are familiar, but not too familiar. KPIG is for people who really know music and really appreciate lost cuts. I'm a little more Bob, while my sweetheart, Bill, is a little more KPIG grown-up, married and with his own bed.
Then I found Bob at 92.1fm in Sacramento and I love that Bob. I'm also probably in the distinct minority of people my age in loving the 1950s Love That Bob tv show in reruns. I had a huge crush on Bob Cummings. Later I had a huge crush on Bob Crane from Hogan's Heroes and he turned out to be a pervert.
I like the name Bob because my children routinely call me Bob--it started with them having a cold and pronouncing "Mom" "Bob" and then it became a way of singling me out in a crowd of people all of whom have the name "Mom"--they call "Bob!" and somehow it cuts through the noise and gets my attention. I'm supposed to say "yes, Bob" or they get all bent out of shape and have to yell my name again, a process that can get exhausting. Needless to say, they love the concept, if not the actual music, of Bob radio and basically assume the station is named after me.
So these are the two new hip formats: Jack and Bob. Jack format plays hits from the 60s, 70s, 80, and 90's but they have to have been in the top 40. Bob plays those and also adds new songs from today and tunes that were not huge hits (but not many). Google Bob or Jack radio and the name of your city to find out in your area.
The key is that it is across genres and has these kinds of jarring transitions, known as "trainwrecks" in the DJ community. Like you'll go directly from Lively Up Yourself by Bob Marley to Hot Blooded by Foreigner and you'll like it.
The format is widely considered to have been iPod-inspired in the sense that the popularity of the "shuffle" setting on iPod (where you randomly hear songs from your entire music catalogue) has let commercial radio stations know that there is a market for that kind of wierd jarring transition.
On my iPod (yes, Bill recently gave me one for my birthday) it can be especially jarring. You could go from a broadway show tune to hip hop to a lecture from a buddhist nun (I'd like to see that make it onto mainstream radio). And yet, even something that wierd is taking hold in the popular imagination. In a related move, KPIG radio, long considered to be of interest only to people with freestanding bathtubs filled with baby marijuana plants, announced this week that it is expanding from Santa Cruz into the San Francisco bay area. KPIG is basically Bob radio that slept on a friend's couch last night and doesn't remember where he parked his car, but he's a smart friend and he brought books and cleans up after himself. It is sweet, edgy, funny, and real.
Bob radio is slicker, infinitely more self-conscious, packaged and commercial. In the end, I think Bob radio is for those of us who like to think of ourselves as hip but really just want to listen to tunes that are familiar, but not too familiar. KPIG is for people who really know music and really appreciate lost cuts. I'm a little more Bob, while my sweetheart, Bill, is a little more KPIG grown-up, married and with his own bed.
Friday, June 10, 2005
John Diaz Said it Better than I Could
John Diaz, editorial editor of the San Francisco Chronicle had the same rant I did yesterday about the California Assembly Democrats. Pulling no punches he tells the story of their walk of shame. I forgot to mention, of course, the pivotal gay marriage bill that went down in flames on the California Assembly floor last week too.
Now some may quarrel with me on this, but I can kind of see a politician being worried about casting a vote for gay marriage--there is a possibility that he gets out ahead of his constituents on the issue, especially in the central valley (our kansas). Sure, theoretically they could take a hit in a Democratic primary for not supporting gay marriage, but most of these guys do not face credible primary threats. When you have term limits, why would try to run against someone in a primary? You wait your turn.
But "taking a walk on" (not voting for) an environmental bill? Nah, that plays everywhere with everyone. In fact, they could take a serious hit in a general election for not supporting it.
If fact, you could say that these guys have real courage, the courage of their conviction--and their conviction is that if you pay good money to put them in office, you should get what you pay for, their vote.
Now some may quarrel with me on this, but I can kind of see a politician being worried about casting a vote for gay marriage--there is a possibility that he gets out ahead of his constituents on the issue, especially in the central valley (our kansas). Sure, theoretically they could take a hit in a Democratic primary for not supporting gay marriage, but most of these guys do not face credible primary threats. When you have term limits, why would try to run against someone in a primary? You wait your turn.
But "taking a walk on" (not voting for) an environmental bill? Nah, that plays everywhere with everyone. In fact, they could take a serious hit in a general election for not supporting it.
If fact, you could say that these guys have real courage, the courage of their conviction--and their conviction is that if you pay good money to put them in office, you should get what you pay for, their vote.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
The Assembly Democrats are Worse than Ever
I don't have the energy to do it justice, but you all should know that the Democrats in the California State Assembly have been acting up big time again in the past 2 weeks--they're worse than ever and it's just not tolerable.
Last week most notably they joined with Republicans to kill (by refusing to vote for) bills that would have allowed communities to bring a private right of action against polluters for environmental hazards, made it more difficult for corporations to hide their misdoings behind secret settlement agreements and killed many other environmental bills. They even made it tough for bills favored by labor unions to get off the Assembly floor, and not for any noble reason, just stubborn closeness with the Chamber of Commerce.
Forget about being politically savvy enough to put Schwarzenegger on the hot seat with environmental and consumer bills--these guys know where their bread is buttered and it ain't by their constituents, it's by their contributors. They don't want to cede credit for the kill to the Governor--they can terminate people's rights with the best of 'em.
Some of the worst offenders are the Assemblymembers below, if you live in one of their districts, call and complain--I'll give you the number if you don't have it--and vote against them in the next primary:
Joseph Canciamilla--east east bay
Alberto Torrico--Fremont
Barbara Matthews--Stockton
Juan Arambula--Fresno
Lois Wolk--Davis
Nicole Parra--Bakersfield
Joe Coto--San Jose
Rebecca Cohn--Silicon valley
Jerome Horton--Inglewood
Edward Chavez--San Gabriel valley
Carol Liu--Pasadena
Hector De La Torre--east LA
Rudy Bermudez--Norwalk
Ronald Calderon--LA
Juan Vargas--South San Diego
Gloria Negrete McLeod--Ontario
Joe Baca Jr.--San Bernardino
Last week most notably they joined with Republicans to kill (by refusing to vote for) bills that would have allowed communities to bring a private right of action against polluters for environmental hazards, made it more difficult for corporations to hide their misdoings behind secret settlement agreements and killed many other environmental bills. They even made it tough for bills favored by labor unions to get off the Assembly floor, and not for any noble reason, just stubborn closeness with the Chamber of Commerce.
Forget about being politically savvy enough to put Schwarzenegger on the hot seat with environmental and consumer bills--these guys know where their bread is buttered and it ain't by their constituents, it's by their contributors. They don't want to cede credit for the kill to the Governor--they can terminate people's rights with the best of 'em.
Some of the worst offenders are the Assemblymembers below, if you live in one of their districts, call and complain--I'll give you the number if you don't have it--and vote against them in the next primary:
Joseph Canciamilla--east east bay
Alberto Torrico--Fremont
Barbara Matthews--Stockton
Juan Arambula--Fresno
Lois Wolk--Davis
Nicole Parra--Bakersfield
Joe Coto--San Jose
Rebecca Cohn--Silicon valley
Jerome Horton--Inglewood
Edward Chavez--San Gabriel valley
Carol Liu--Pasadena
Hector De La Torre--east LA
Rudy Bermudez--Norwalk
Ronald Calderon--LA
Juan Vargas--South San Diego
Gloria Negrete McLeod--Ontario
Joe Baca Jr.--San Bernardino
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
(:)(:)(:)(: Cleveland Orchestra at Mondavi Center
Despite the fact that it's from Cleveland, the Cleveland Orchestra is world renowned for its precision and virtuosity. So, although I know next to nothing about classical music and have no business having opinions about it, I am thrilled to accompany a friend to see them play at the Mondavi Center in Davis Monday night.
As we settle into our seats, I loudly squeal with joy as I read that two of the pieces are Ravel--I adore Ravel! I proclaim, only narrowly escaping je l'adore Ravel which is actually what comes to mind, I kid you not (I can get carried away). I chalk up the rolled eyes and embarrassed glances around me to envy for my joie de vivre.
As the first strains of Ravel's Alborada del gracioso come, I settle into my seat. Many many minutes pass as I struggle to keep my mind on the concert. Wow, I think, this is so mellow and mathematical, not so exciting, it must be his early stuff.
At the end of the first movement, my companion points to a different page of the program, one which says June 6 instead of June 5--it's not Ravel, she whispers, it's Mozart. Turns out Ravel was yesterday.
I don't know much, but I know that you cannot go around thinking Je l'adore Ravel when you're listening to Mozart.
At the end of the Mozart (Symphony No. 36 in C Major, K. 425 if you must know), I smugly observe that while technically flawless, the piece was soulless. My companion agrees, although she blames it on herself--I guess I'm just not in a place in my life where Mozart can really move me.
I think, I guess I'm not in a place in my life where I can fucking tell if it's even Mozart
The next piece, Concerto for Alto Saxophone and Wind Ensemble by Ingolf Dahl (some obscure german immigrant to the US) is amazing. The passion and virtuosity of the saxophone soloist Joseph Lulloff, whose solos dominate the piece, is palpably infectious--the wind ensemble devours his music and uses each solo as fuel for a brilliant echo. The audience is on its feet for 5 standing ovations as I rush to the bathroom, desperate to recover from an ill-advised 11th hour decaf, then rush to the concessions line to begin the process anew.
Dvorak's Symphony No. 5 in F major is performed beautifully as well, but again my mind drifts, and I find myself comparing music to meditation as many better minds before me must have done.
The drive home from Davis is mostly filled by the sound of one part of my head blaming me for things throughout the evening, the Ravel fiasco, the decaf rush, the fact that I didn't visit the ladies' room before driving home afterwards. Fortunately, though, it is drowned out by the plaintive wail of the alto sax and a determined witness for peace, my better self.
As we settle into our seats, I loudly squeal with joy as I read that two of the pieces are Ravel--I adore Ravel! I proclaim, only narrowly escaping je l'adore Ravel which is actually what comes to mind, I kid you not (I can get carried away). I chalk up the rolled eyes and embarrassed glances around me to envy for my joie de vivre.
As the first strains of Ravel's Alborada del gracioso come, I settle into my seat. Many many minutes pass as I struggle to keep my mind on the concert. Wow, I think, this is so mellow and mathematical, not so exciting, it must be his early stuff.
At the end of the first movement, my companion points to a different page of the program, one which says June 6 instead of June 5--it's not Ravel, she whispers, it's Mozart. Turns out Ravel was yesterday.
I don't know much, but I know that you cannot go around thinking Je l'adore Ravel when you're listening to Mozart.
At the end of the Mozart (Symphony No. 36 in C Major, K. 425 if you must know), I smugly observe that while technically flawless, the piece was soulless. My companion agrees, although she blames it on herself--I guess I'm just not in a place in my life where Mozart can really move me.
I think, I guess I'm not in a place in my life where I can fucking tell if it's even Mozart
The next piece, Concerto for Alto Saxophone and Wind Ensemble by Ingolf Dahl (some obscure german immigrant to the US) is amazing. The passion and virtuosity of the saxophone soloist Joseph Lulloff, whose solos dominate the piece, is palpably infectious--the wind ensemble devours his music and uses each solo as fuel for a brilliant echo. The audience is on its feet for 5 standing ovations as I rush to the bathroom, desperate to recover from an ill-advised 11th hour decaf, then rush to the concessions line to begin the process anew.
Dvorak's Symphony No. 5 in F major is performed beautifully as well, but again my mind drifts, and I find myself comparing music to meditation as many better minds before me must have done.
The drive home from Davis is mostly filled by the sound of one part of my head blaming me for things throughout the evening, the Ravel fiasco, the decaf rush, the fact that I didn't visit the ladies' room before driving home afterwards. Fortunately, though, it is drowned out by the plaintive wail of the alto sax and a determined witness for peace, my better self.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Spanglish is Magnifico!
(:)(:)(:)(:) for Spanglish just reviewed on DVD. It's been a helluva month and I haven't prioritized the blog lately, but let me say I had NO idea how good a movie this was. I just thought it'd be decent hollywood fluff. Wrong. This movie is beautifully acted and written.
I don't have time to do it justice right now, but a few thoughts. The highlights: Adam Sandler and his character are magnificient. Who knew that Adam Sandler could act? Certainly not I. That is one of the best-written most complex characters I've ever seen for a man--3 dimensions is not enough to cover it. Tea Leoni is always good, but she's spectacular in this especially as she takes a character that could have been simply despicable and makes her 3-dimensional human, draws us in compassionately to her world. Cloris Leachman as her mother is also marvelous.
My only beef with this film, and it's a biggie, is that while the anglo family is marvelous, the Mexican mother and daughter are considerably less fully drawn characters--you get some of their complexity but it's very much from the anglo gaze in. Glenn Backes points out to me that the poster for the film does the same thing--you see the anglos in full form, the maid and her daughter hazy. Maybe it's a sophisticated statement of some kind by the filmmaker/screen writer, but I doubt it. Probably the limitations of their viewpoint coupled with laziness.
I don't have time to do it justice right now, but a few thoughts. The highlights: Adam Sandler and his character are magnificient. Who knew that Adam Sandler could act? Certainly not I. That is one of the best-written most complex characters I've ever seen for a man--3 dimensions is not enough to cover it. Tea Leoni is always good, but she's spectacular in this especially as she takes a character that could have been simply despicable and makes her 3-dimensional human, draws us in compassionately to her world. Cloris Leachman as her mother is also marvelous.
My only beef with this film, and it's a biggie, is that while the anglo family is marvelous, the Mexican mother and daughter are considerably less fully drawn characters--you get some of their complexity but it's very much from the anglo gaze in. Glenn Backes points out to me that the poster for the film does the same thing--you see the anglos in full form, the maid and her daughter hazy. Maybe it's a sophisticated statement of some kind by the filmmaker/screen writer, but I doubt it. Probably the limitations of their viewpoint coupled with laziness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)