Ad Bored

I’ve been watching a lot of the Olympics, and even with the TiVo, there are a few ads I haven’t been able to avoid. The first defines the type of ad I would like to ban, because it is a crime against nostalgia:

Yes, that’s a collection of recreations of iconic scenes from "The Breakfast Club." I have a hard time describing the visceral loathing I feel for this ad. Marie and I used to have this movie memorized, but the target market for this ad probably hasn’t heard the words, "So it’s sorta social: demented and sad, but social. Right?"  So the target market probably just thinks this is a bunch of kids doing dopey things to the accompaniment of a moldy oldie.  Good one.

Contrast that with the United Airlines ads called "Sea Orchestra" and ‘Heart" (memo to United – let people embed your video).  I’ve actually stopped ba-booping through blocks of Olympic ads and rewound to watch these.  They’re original and actually relate to the thing being advertised, and I hate to say it, but these advertisements are entertaining.

Which is more than I can say for the continued harping on the Chinese gymnastics age scandal.  Al Trautwig made a particularly ugly comment the other evening, snidely inviting the viewers to judge for themselves as to whether some of the Chinese gymnasts looked old enough.  Excuse me?  This isn’t "America’s Top Sports Scandal."  If the Chinese cheated, it’s not going to be voted on via telephone by the US viewing public.  The only thing this does is make Al Trautwig look like a first-class wart.

News, or: Do I look evil in this mortarboard?

In 1995, I received my J.D. (Juris Doctor) from the University of Maine.

In 2009 or 10 I am tentatively scheduled to receive my M.L.S. (Masters in Library Science) from the University of Maryland.

Aside from apparently having an unconscious preference for state universities in states that begin with "M," I feel like I’m regenerating sideways in an offbeat piece of Dr. Who fanfic.

Gotta start working on that laugh…

Food, glonous food.

No, that’s not a typo.  It’s a show tune by way of chopsticks wrapper:

Glonous.

In case you can’t read the text, it says:

Welcome to Chinese Restaurant.
please try your Nice Chinese Food With Chopsticks
the traditional and typical of Chinese glonous history.
and cultur al.

I first blogged about this sort of thing a very long time ago , but I still love loony neologisms created in the service of signage.

ETA: Rebecca points out that I mistakenly credited them with spelling "cultural" correctly.  Heh.

I promise I’ll have SOMETHING to say again…

…SOMEDAY.  My brain has been running rather boringly on how to get more freelance work lately, which doesn’t leave much room for scintillating blog content.

But for now, I present you the most interesting thing my father ever forwarded to me via e-mail:

Cheating

I got a call from a friend yesterday, chiding me on my lack of posting.  All I could say was, "Yeah – John’s been riding me about that too."  What can I say?  It’s been hot and humid, I’ve been unwell, and while I’m back pretty close to normal, I’m still not 100%.  The heat, humidity, and unwell-ness have meant 0 running since mid-month, so that’s another reason for glum, cranky, no-writing-ness.

So, what can I do but a rerun?  I was reminded of the post below the other day, which originally ran on March 29, 2004 and was called "Manning the Ramparts."  Enjoy.

——————–

I’ve been a bit cranky lately ["A bit?!" I hear my husband cry. Okay, very cranky]. Only this morning do I have a specific, topical and timely excuse (you clean coffee out of an iBook keyboard at seven in the morning and see how cheery you are). The rest of it has been a lingering malaise which I vaguely attribute to the cause: Don’t Have A Job Yet. But an e-mail from my mother about this site gives another possible cause. She writes, "The only thing I find scary about these musings of yours is that it’s a pretty coherent picture of a culture gone mad–or perhaps more accurately, gone stupid." In all modesty I would substitute the word "consistent" for "coherent" in that statement – otherwise, I’m not sure I can argue with it.

I hate it when I do or say something stupid (cf. coffee on the keyboard). But what is really maddening is when our culture allows us to defend our stupidity – letting us love it and hug it and call it George. There are whole sections of the culture who look upon intelligence and erudition with suspicion, and there is a particularly insidious way of manning the Ramparts of Stupidity: the mislabeled "opinion."

Consider this quote from a music-loving woman in a Wal-Mart for a story about the store’s new music download service . Neda Ulaby of All Things Considered asked her if she would use Wal-Mart’s new online music purchasing system, and she replied, "In a way, I think that’s stealing. And I feel that anything that is downloaded off the computer from anywhere is stealing. So if I come here and buy it then I’ve paid for it and I’m getting what I paid for. So. That’s how I feel."

So, in this woman’s mind, purchasing is not defined as an exchange of goods or services for money – it’s all about the delivery method. Ulaby blames this woman’s thinking (or lack thereof) on the music industry’s virulent anti-piracy media campaign. But take a closer look at what the woman actually said. She starts out by saying she "thinks" it is stealing, softening it by prefacing her statement with, "In a way…". But then she goes on to defend her position that it is stealing by saying it’s what she "feels." In other words, it’s what she believes – it’s her opinion. So she stands on a factually indefensible position and mans the ramparts by retreating to the language of belief.

Someone (sorry – I have been unable to find a source) said, "Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but not everyone is entitled to their own facts." But our society reflexively retreats from arguing with people who use the words believe, feel, opinion, etc. It’s a conversational "home base" from which the factually deficient can say, "Neener, neener, you can’t get me." Opinions are so sacred that they cause us to retreat from argument, even when those "opinions" are really factual inaccuracies in disguise. On second thought, perhaps my mother was right the first time – it is a culture gone mad. And you don’t argue with the clinically insane.

Later on in the segment, the aforementioned music-lover in Wal-Mart does say that she will probably use the download service. If she still believes she’s stealing can she get arrested by the thought police?

Meep.

I have a nasty cold and sore throat which is making me very cranky.

However, this was good enough to make me laugh despite the crankiness, so I thought I would share:

You already know about this, right?

Okay – so if you don’t, here’s the deal: Joss Whedon (pause for that angelic choir going "waaaaa!" in the background*) apparently decided he couldn’t stand to not be creative during the writer’s strike.  So he did what any normal person in that situation would do.  He wrote a three-episode, 45-minute miniseries specifically for the web.  It’s an anti-super-hero story comedy about a nebbishy guy who wants to be a super-villain.  And it’s a musical.

You know – run-of-the-mill** stuff.

It’s free on the web until July 20, and it’s available for download, own-it-forever purchase on iTunes.  The first two episodes are available on the website, the last will be available on Saturday.  It’s funny and sweet and seriously silly. Go.  Watch.  Tell ’em I sent you.

*Okay, so it’s probably "aaah!" but it always sounds like "waa" to me…

**Have I ever written a post with this many hyphens?

Who knew my oven timer was so powerful?

I do not think that label means what you think it means...

…and why doesn’t it work like my TiVo remote?  Wouldn’t that be cool?  "Go eight seconds back in time."  If I had that button the other day, I might have saved myself the horrendous cleanup of flour mixed with oily, yeasty water when the beginnings of a pizza crust dough went horribly wrong all over the kitchen counter.

I blame Jamie Oliver for making that flour-well thing look so easy.

Coincidentally

Hard on the heels of my story yesterday about a drama school classmate using a live snake in Cleopatra’s death scene, it appears the Shakespeare Company of DC is doing the same thing in their current production. (And I have to go with Scott Simon’s assessment of these critters – they are cuter than the average run of such reptiles.  Still not sure I’d like them coiled around my hands, though.)

I’ve had two such coincidences in as many days in my colossal online media empire. What’s going on here?  Am I plugged into a heretofore-unknown outlet of the zeitgeist?

A good day in spite of itself

John has wanted to try a tandem bicycle experience with me for some time.  My response has generally been, "Don’t those things come with divorce papers as a standard accessory?"  However, I finally caved and booked us a tandem rental at "Bike the Sites " in DC for this weekend.

Or… I thought I had.

The dude (and I use the term specifically – it’s a highly descriptive term of art in this particular instance) I had booked the reservation with told me to simply e-mail him with my contact information, which I dutifully did.  And when we arrived… no bike.  He hadn’t taken my credit card information, so they didn’t reserve it.  He hadn’t entered my phone number into the system and they stated they couldn’t contact me (they had my e-mail, but… let’s just not go there).

So, we regrouped, rebooked for the weekend after next (for my non-US readers, the National Mall in DC is to be avoided next weekend at all costs ).  On our way home on the Metro, weary and hungry, we decided to stop in downtown Rockville for lunch.

This was a very good plan.

Rockville has done one of those downtown revitalization schemes which when done badly makes a downtown into a shopping mall and when done well makes a downtown into a magnet for community.  And they’ve done a really nice job of the second type.  In addition to making the new main branch of the county library a major feature (a move applauded by our household), they’ve managed to attract a nice selection of mostly non-chain restaurants and shops.  They also have created a fountain that is truly designed to be a kid-friendly community water park:

Kids playing in the fountain - looks like fun...

Kids playing in the fountain - looks like fun...

Kids playing in the fountain - looks like fun...

Kids playing in the fountain - looks like fun...

After our Lebanese luncheon, we went home for a nap and a ride on our own bikes.  So despite the false start of our morning, quite a good day in the end.