Reel Reviews

Run All Night -- And a grim time was had by all. This is some pretty dark stuff here, which perhaps should be a point in this film's merit. This violence has consequences, and there's a strong message here that says a life of crime comes back to get you, even if you skirt the law in the process--an interesting deviation from most flicks in the genre. On the other hand, there's a certain lack of originality here; the plot, including the "flash ahead" device, is fairly well-worn, and you can tell pretty much what's going to happen all the way through. Overall, it's a tough call; I can see recommending this movie, but I can also see its demerits, too. If you really dig these Liam Neeson shoot 'em ups, the go for it; otherwise, maybe you can find a better film to give your two hours to.

Wordsmith

Another term for Stephen's Dictionary:

Generation AA
[Proper noun]
Pronounced "Generation Double A" -- Term for any member of the vaguely under 30 years-of-age cohort; derives from the fact that whenever I have to deal with any of their ilk, I wind up wanting to beat them with a sock filled with batteries. ("Double A" refers to the common small cell batteries.)

Reel Reviews

A Most Violent Year -- Watching this movie is an extraordinary experience, not just because the story and performances are good (they are, very much so), but because the world it depicts (a gang war between heating oil companies in New York City in 1981) seems so alien to those of us living today--even if you're old enough to remember that year. The story is compelling, but what really drives this film is the performances of the leads; Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain skillfully rebut any arguments that the best actors these days only come from England (or maybe Australia). Both of them are riveting in their roles, particularly Isaac (who continues to demonstrate that he may now be the premier American actor of today). And Albert Brooks is brilliant (and almost unrecognizeable) as Abel's lawyer/consigliere. Overall, this is a mesmerizing study of a time and a place long gone but brought back to life by exceptional talents.

Reel Reviews

The Imitation Game -- Much of what you see here is actually very standard, boilerplate "outsider" drama, set in the equally standard venue of a World War II movie. The loser who ultimately wins, the challenge to authority, the competition won--it's all there, as it is in a hundred other films. So why is this movie different? Different enough to be really, really good? Two things. One, the true story goes beyond the win to show the outsider ultimately losing (though with a winning legacy); and two (and this is the thing that really makes the movie worth watching), the expert execution of the presentation, particularly in the job the actors do in inhabiting their roles. Special performances by the leads (and, for that matter, the supporting cast) elevate this pic from the standard to a truly special viewing experience.

Reel Reviews

Ex Machina -- This is a good movie...just not as good a movie as the breathless hype that surrounded it made it out to be. It does make you think, mostly about how you would react--and interact--in just such a situation. The film also makes a point of keeping things ambivalent enough that you don't really know if Oscar Isaac's inventor is a villain, or not...or, for that matter, if the AI is a villain or not, a murkiness about the subject that mirrors the real life debate on the seemingly inevitable rise of the robot world. I guess we'll find out that answer eventually, but you're not going to get it here. Still, I'd say this one's worth a look, as a change of pace if nothing else.

Reel Reviews

Whiplash -- Again with the jazz. If jazz is as wonderful as everyone who likes it says it is, why does it only feature in films like this? Seriously, try to find a real jazz station on the radio these days. But I digress; the more pertinent question raised by this movie may be, what’s up with these people? The film actually undercuts its own argument; since precious few viewers will be able to tell the good playing from the bad while watching this one, one wonders if the obsessive attention to perfection is in any way valid. Whom are you trying to impress? Five other people in the room?...or in the city? If that’s all there is, just your own little knowing circle, and you act like this...aren’t you just being a dick? Do movie viewers care about dicks? Perhaps I’m just being contrarian, because this film is in fact entertaining, interesting, and worth watching. Just don’t expect to find any new heroes here.

Reel Reviews

Wild -- Talk about a tough row to hoe. Or is it a tough road to ho? You can go either way with this flick. That’s not the only question raised by this film. For instance: why exactly does hiking the PCT redeem you when you’ve sunk so low? Maybe, if the whole thing really was life-changing and all that...but there’s enough evidence in this story to make the case that Cheryl Strayed--at least as portrayed in the movie--didn’t exactly go through a St. Augustine-style conversion after all was said and done. At least the visuals are appealing. Ultimate judgement: not a bad movie, but maybe not as impressive as the filmmakers (and critics) thought it was.

Reel Reviews

Into The Woods -- My hearing must be going. Once again I've watched a movie where I couldn't hear a lot of the dialogue--in this case, in musical form--over all the background noise and orchestration. Alas, the burden of getting old. The fact that that is my concern when thinking about this film is a warning sign; it's a movie that promises much but delivers not nearly enough. I'm not sure the "wisdom" of the fairy tale rewrites is all that wise; folk wisdom gets to be folk wisdom for a reason, and you coming along with your jaded worldview does not necessarily change everything. Oh well; at least you get to spend a chunk of a couple of hours with the awesomeness that is Anna Kendrick, so that's something.

Reel Reviews

Non-Stop -- Liam Neeson sure does have this ass-kicking thing rolling along these days. In fact, Neeson has grown so comfortable with this formula that by now it may be starting to show some wear and tear. This iteration of the model comes across as somewhat lacking; the action sequences don't feel all that active, probably thanks to the limited staging options of an airplane cabin. There's little of the joyful mayhem of the Taken series here; mostly it's just Neeson looking confused as he tries to figure out who the villain is. The star isn't alone in that; the recursiveness of the film's whodunit plot means that suspects previously dismissed wind up coming back again--unfortunately, without a particularly good reason for their plotting. This is hardly the sort of movie from which you should expect greatness, but a better effort than this shouldn't be too much to ask.

Clever That Way

Recently, my car started having a little problem with its radiator. That little problem being a crack along the top of the casing, which is allowing water/steam and coolant to escape the system and putting my car in danger of overheating if I run it too long without refilling the reservoir.

Unfortunately, I've been way too busy to actually go and get my radiator replaced (nor do I want to spend that money at this moment), so refilling it every other day is the current jury-rig maintenance option. But I found myself with a problem the first time I tried to refill the coolant reservoir: the jug containing the coolant was big and heavy, and the fluid came out in an inconsistent, glugging gush, causing me to spill almost as much coolant as I put into the reservoir.

Obviously, I needed a funnel--but, again, no time to go get one at the auto parts store. (Plus I'm not at home right now, so don't have access to anything in my kitchen I could use, just someone else's stuff which I mustn't ruin on maintaining my car.) What to do?

As was long ago observed, necessity is the mother of invention. I used to keep a very clean car, at least on the interior, but those days are long gone; my car's interior is usually home to a cornucopia of trash these days. And among that trash: a cardboard french fry container from one of my too frequent trips to the drive thru. As you've no doubt observed, those fry boxes are collapsible, and to that end they have cuts and holes in them in order to make them fold flat, particularly holes in the bottom corners. They also tend to have a tapered shape.

You see what I'm getting at? A french fry sleeve, sitting on the floor of my car, became an improvised funnel for pouring the coolant into the reservoir. It worked quite well, and cut down on the spillage enormously--though the width of the sleeve still left something to be desired for total efficiency, since some of the pour would inevitably spill through the other openings.

Fortunately, my car's trash collection also contained a plastic water bottle--one with a nice long tapered neck and a top opening that was just the right size to fit the reservoir's mouth. Once that bottle met with the razor scraper (kept in the car for cleaning sticky stuff off the windshield), I was able to cut the bottle in half and Macgyver a great little improvised funnel that does the trick perfectly.

It would have been nice to have come up with my solution from the start and not spilled any of the coolant in the first place. But it's important to recognize that, if you don't come up with a solution right away, it's still important to keep trying to solve the problem, because maybe you will get it right on the second or third try. And, of course, it's also nice to crow a little bit about being "clever that way," if you know what I mean.

Recently Read

And Another Thing...
by Eoin Colfer

There are many reasons to approach this book with great skepticism. It's a "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" book that was not written by Douglas Adams; strike one. It was written by Eoin Colfer, who achieved success with the Artemis Fowl books, of which I read the first installment and was not particularly impressed; strike two. And it was produced after Adams had shuffled off his coil, and apparently without his participation; a Wikipedia entry claims that some of the story elements came from Adams's plans for a sixth installment, though it remains vague about just how much of the work comes from his efforts. That should be strike three and it's out.

Except that it's not. Somehow, Colfer made it safely to first base, or whatever is the equivalent in cricket. This came as a big surprise...but then, surprises are part of the raison d'etre of the Hitchhiker's series.

Reel Reviews

Birdman (or, The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) -- Hollywood loves Hollywood, more than anything else. Even when it's an adjunct of Hollywood, like Broadway. That's a big reason why this movie, like Argo and The Artist before it, won Best Picture. The rest of us would prefer to judge a film on its actual merits--but even that's hard to do here, because this one is so steeped in its appreciation for film-making and acting and creativity and artistic effort in general...From the ostentatious camera-work to the passionate soliloquies about doing "something meaningful" creatively, this story practically browbeats the viewer into loving (or at least respecting) the cinematic arts, to the point where it's almost annoying. Thankfully, there's enough humor, professional performances, and flights of fantasy to redeem the film's worst excesses. I'm not sure it's statuette quality on its plain merits, but it's at least worth checking out on the viewing medium of your choice.

Recently Read

Puss in Boots
by Philip Pullman / Ian Beck, illus.

I'm not impressed.

It's been a long time since Philip Pullman made a splash with His Dark Materials and its associated works. It has been nearly as long as Pullman gave his readers other great pieces of work, such as Clockwork and The Scarecrow and His Servant. Given the span of time that has passed since the author last wowed us, maybe it's time to reclassify Pullman, not as a star but as a comet--a body that shone brightly for a while, but eventually disappeared from the literary sky, perhaps never to return again.

It's not that this version of Puss in Boots is bad; Pullman does a serviceable job of presenting the traditional story; there are no passages in his tale that make the reader want to throw the book across the room or anything like that. But Pullman expands upon Charles Perrault's tale, including scenes with a hermit and some ghouls which, frankly, don't particularly add anything special to the story.

Reel Reviews

The Hobbit: The Battle of The Five Armies -- Diseases sometimes run in families; that may be the best way to think of the things that are wrong with this movie. As with its brethren films in this trilogy that should have been one feature, it suffers from the same frailties--only here those problems are magnified due to having festered all the way through two films already. The liberties with the story--both wild extrapolations from the original text and outright fundamental revisions to the story--are least welcome here at the climax and denouement; the deviations are all the more glaring in their lack of respect for the original material. Certain Elves don't belong in this story; a minor character is given way too much screen time; and the attempt at epic scope in the final battle just makes things confused and unclear. Ironically, a lust for dragon's gold--in this case, box office wealth--is what did in this project from the start. Let it be a lesson to future filmmakers.

Reel Reviews

Interstellar -- I think this movie's heart is in the right place. Director Christopher Nolan has built a lot of equity with previous works, so one might be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, or at least a pass on certain things. But that also means there's a pretty high level of expectations attached to his projects, and this one does not live up to that hype. I'm not bothered by the predictability of what seems to be an obvious attempt at ginning up a big "shocking twist"; I'm more concerned about the vagueness surrounding much of the film's presentation: the unsteady science (including that one major boner that every screenwriter seems to love, misunderstanding black holes), the characters' odd motivations, even just the set-up for why all this is necessary in the first place. Indeed, the science is so vague in some places that this might be a more honest movie if it were an outright fantasy, with everyone wearing robes and pointed hats and doing magic rather than talking about wormholes. Too much of what may have been intended as atmospheric obscurity simply comes across as intellectual or creative laziness. If you want to shoot something into space in a rocket, make it your lack of willingness to work the problem all the way through.

Reel Reviews

Against The Sun -- This film reveals a fascinating phenomenon: just about any story becomes more compelling when it takes place during World War II. Any movie featuring that time and place automatically gets a boost--even now, 70 years later. As it turns out, this tale needs little extra help to come across as compelling. The story of three Navy airmen who ditched in the South Pacific and survived a thousand mile trip in a life raft has compelling written all over it. Like the recent and similar--but, importantly, fictional--All is Lost, this movie presents its simple premise and provides a riveting story without a lot of bells and whistles to heighten the drama, because it hardly needs any such ornamentation. This really is a find, and is simply put a tremendous movie to watch. Don't miss it.

Reel Reviews

Kingsman: The Secret Service -- This movie is desperately concerned with gaining its Generation AA bona fides, right down to the cockeyed way in which certain characters wear their caps. At the same time, it very self-consciously pays homage--at times out loud in the script--to spy movies of two generations ago. So then, if you throw all that together does it make for a great action adventure spy movie? Well, more like a decent action adventure spy movie. For one thing, this up to date take on the secret agent flick is substantially cruder than its predecessors: more lowbrow in its humor and gorier in its violence. Interestingly, the story gets the politics mostly right, including a provocative take on climate change and what's to be done about it. Bottom line: I suggest watching this one for free, on TV or from the library. As for the future of the genre, I don't think this one earned enough cred to merit a sequel (though I bet one shows up anyway). We'll have to wait for someone else to take this kind of flick to the next level.

Recently Read

The Good, the Bad, and the Furry
by Tom Cox

There's a downside to being cat crazy. Actually, there are a lot of downsides to being any kind of crazy; but right now I'm just focused on the cat crazy part. A downside of being cat crazy is that you can't just pass by anything cat related, even when you just happen to spot that something out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes that impulse can lead you seriously astray.

Case in point: The Good, the Bad, and the Furry by English author Tom Cox. I just happened to spot this book on the New Releases shelf at my local library, and felt compelled to grab it and take it home with me. That result probably owes a lot to the picture on the cover, which shows Cox's cat The Bear soulfully staring out at all who pass by, just begging cat crazy people like yours truly to pick up the book and take it home to read--a process not unlike adoptions at the local Petco.

Reel Reviews

Strangers On A Train -- At first blush this film seems dated, and a little obvious, and perhaps even a little clumsy. Then things get rolling, and the clever plot, artful direction, and healthy doses of wit begin to show as the the stakes grow more imperative, until finally you're left guessing about how it's going to end (not to mention whether or not the protagonist deserves to get out of his mess). In fact, this movie may be the epitome of why today's audience should show plenty of patience when it indulges a taste for yesteryear. There's a lot of good stuff out there, and once you get past the hurdle of outdated references and sensibilities, you can immerse yourself in the clever goings on that paved the way for today's finest works. Give it a shot sometime.

Reel Reviews

Boyhood -- Upon release, this movie got a lot of praise for its unique concept of filming a story over a decade with the same actors, allowing the audience to see the young boy grow to manhood. I think many observers got caught up in the gimmick and glossed over the key film-making mechanism in that idea: the experience of seeing the actors--particularly the children--age over a compressed time period creates an artificial sense of long-term familiarity. That is, the viewer gets the impression that he knows these people like friends or family, which raises the quotient of caring about what happens to this boy, this family, these people. Had this story been filmed in three months, with different young actors representing the stages of the children's lives, viewers would be faced with the fact that, in and of itself, any given individual's life cycle is not especially meaningful or interesting to an outside observer. But develop that artificial sense of intimacy, as this movie does, and you find yourself caring about these characters far beyond anything on the screen--in terms of "story"--actually demands. It's a unique experience, to be sure, and worth seeing for yourself--but perhaps it's not as profound as some might have you believe.

Reel Reviews

Lucy -- There's a distinct possibility that this emperor is not wearing any clothes. That's not to say this is necessarily a bad flick; it's fun to watch, the action and special effects are good, and the economy of storytelling helps things move along quickly and without much drag. The science in this fiction is almost certainly mumbo jumbo, but that's to be expected; it's in the philosophy more than the science where the film breaks down. I just get the sense that what is supposed to come across here as deep and profound may simply be very, very foolish. But you can do worse with an hour and a half of your time.

Bitching and Cunting: a Definition of Terms

Folks tend to be imprecise in their use of words. We've discussed this before in this space, in a post about the definition of stupidity and insanity, among other things. Another place where the subtle difference between similar words causes confusion lies in the space between the terms 'bitching' and 'cunting.'

Almost everyone is familiar with bitching. We've all bitched about this, that, or the other thing now and then. You're bitching when you say, "Dammit, why do I have to do this now? This is so stupid!" whenever your boss asks you to finish those "TPS reports" by the end of today, Friday, when you know perfectly well that no one will even be in the office to look at them until Tuesday at the earliest. Bitching is a form of complaining; it springs from a place of feeling abused, put upon, mistreated, or just simply frustrated. Bitching is complaining that comes from a place of--or at least, the perception of being in a position of--powerlessness.

Reel Reviews

A History of Violence -- An interestingly ambiguous movie. It takes a while for you to figure out what this movie is really about, and in this case that's a good thing. There's a couple of misdirections that are not overly complex nor too clever and self-conscious, which may be the best indication that this film has much deeper things on its mind. Once the story actually does shake down and the viewer realizes "This is what it is," you realize that you've been given a good dose of insight into the consequences of the thing, and that makes the ultimate ambiguity that much more effective. Definitely worth your time and consideration.

Reel Reviews

Annie (2014) -- It's tempting to view this "colorized" version of the old musical as something gimmicky and as an unwarranted attempt to "update" the look of what has long been considered a classic, but as you watch this film, it becomes clearer and clearer that this is a legitimate re-telling of the tale. Indeed, this is probably how the story should play in today's world; we should expect a modern-day Annie would be more Quvenzhané Wallis than Andrea McArdle. Having never seen the play or original movie (or even read the comic strip, for that matter), I have no opinion on how "true" to the original this version is; I just can testify that the story remains strong, its modern touches make sense and work within the plot, the cast of characters is well-represented here, and the performances are mostly true and done well. This seems to have been an overlooked work when it came out, and unfairly so; I suspect most viewers will appreciate it greatly and enjoy it very much.

For The Record, Scale Check

This picture is from last Tuesday morning, July 21st, so it's already out of date, and I probably have already gained back a few of these pounds. The big leap forward (or downward) resulted from a long weekend at Disneyland, which meant a LOT of walking around; hence the big four pound drop from the last low point. Interestingly, this experience reinforces my theory of the "vacation paradox"; while most folks gain weight when on vacation (assuming they do, or maybe they simply assume they do), I tend to lose weight when I'm away--probably because my vacations take me out of my all too familiar environment (including the bad habits of my normal space) and put me in a situation where I suddenly get a lot more exercise (be it hiking in the mountains, or footing it around the Disney parks for three days). So even with 5 days of eating little more than junk food, I still lost weight, and achieved my lowest reading yet. Fascinating stuff; let's see if I can make more of it happen down the road here, before summer is up and the fall weight gain commences.

Reel Reviews

St. Vincent -- Everything in this film is telegraphed, fairly obvious, and not especially original. The thing that saves it--indeed, raises it above the ordinary--is the fact that much of the humor here is funny in its own right (not just derivative of earlier curmudgeon stories), and the quality of the performances given by the principals involved. It's hardly a perfect movie, but it provides enough entertainment to make it worth it.

Reel Reviews

Selma -- An impressive presentation, outstanding performances, and strong, nuanced storytelling make this an exceptional piece of historical movie-making. A most notable feature is the multi-faceted portraits of each of the participants in the narrative; there's some hagiography here, but it is tempered with an honest representation of real characters, faults and all, that adds human dimensions to what otherwise might have been, in less capable hands, a flat, uninteresting work of something near propaganda. Instead we are treated to an effective and ultimately moving history, one that deserves to be viewed on many merits, and which couldn't be more relevant even today, 50 years later.

Reel Reviews

Foxcatcher -- The moral of this story: strange, damaged people should not get together with other strange damaged people. The odd thing that comes through while watching this odd movie is how unnecessary the story--and its tragic ending--were. John duPont could just as easily have stood in Mark Schultz's corner as the wrestling team's sponsor; it's what a lot of rich guys do. But that damage--the need to be his "coach" beyond all self-awareness--led to inevitable conflict and breakdown, and makes this a highlight reel that no Olympian would ever want to be in. The story is clearly told, and the actors do a fine job of conveying the sense of the people--not sure how closely they capture the nature of the people they're playing--but the film loses points for its measured pace, and for being so weird and challenging to the viewer; lots of moviegoers simply would not have the patience for this one. It's worth a look, but a lot of folks simply won't like it. Your mileage may vary.

Reel Reviews

The Postman Always Rings Twice -- He's a dirtbag. She's a cunt. They're both stupid. Her husband's an old drunken fool. What could possibly go wrong? This is one of the oddest movies I've ever watched. It wasn't exactly unengaging, but it's hard to know what to make of a film where the sleazy lawyer character is the one you root for the most. At least Lana Turner was fairly easy on the eyes. Not only were the characters all anti-heroes, but little of the story made much sense. I stayed with it for all of its length--though I was tempted to bail after the second or third false climax--but didn't feel particularly rewarded for the effort. This may be a "film buffs only" project; the rest can probably do without.

Reel Reviews

John Wick -- Shakespeare it ain't. And I imagine that a lot of the plot points would not hold up under rigorous scrutiny. But oh, man--is this movie a hoot to watch. You pretty much know everything that's going to happen long before it does, but it's still wonderfully kick-ass and entertaining to see it anyway. One of the real delights here is the terrifically and comprehensively imagined underworld of violent yet weirdly urbane criminals--a milieu in which everyone understands each other with barely a nod and dirty deeds can get done by just speaking one well-known phrase (though not necessarily done dirt cheap). You may need to check your brain at the door--and not be easily offended by violence; if you are, stay away from this neighborhood--but you will have a rollicking good time with this one.

Wordsmith

Another term for Stephen's Dictionary:

Buggling
[verb]
Participle form; to lay on one's back with arms and legs waving in the air while struggling to move or right oneself, as in a bug stuck on its back (wings/shell) that can't flip over onto its feet

Reel Reviews

Nightcrawler -- Jake Gyllenhaal is really good in this movie. In fact, he's so good that his performance almost undermines the premise of the plot; if his Louis Bloom were as sharp and focused as he is made out to be as he descends into the TV news underworld, he never would have been the loser whose desperation drives him to his success in the first place. Leaving aside that Escher knot, this is an absorbing piece of filmmaking, with just enough mixture of action and social commentary to give the viewer a lot to think about and feel at the same time. Definitely worth a look.

Reel Reviews

The LEGO Movie -- There's no way that this movie would have been given nearly the high appreciation it received upon release had it not been for the fact that the animation involved all those billions of blocks. Everything in the film is formulaic; we've seen it all before--the misfit hero, the vaguely inaccessible love interest, the odd mentor(s), the cliches about belief and everyone's intrinsic value, all set in a fantasy world. If the visuals were not as impressive as they are, this brick flick would have passed by without nearly as much praise. But the blocks have a following, to be sure, and that almost guaranteed success regardless of the script. I guess it's not awful, but this one never really grabbed me at any deep level. Chances are you could entertain yourself more with a few buckets of bricks and a free afternoon.

Insanity and Stupidity, Defined

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
Albert Einstein  

It is noteworthy that the quote given above is attributed to Albert Einstein; apparently, it takes a recognized genius to get this quote right and actually understand its meaning.

I have heard that line, or something very similar, quoted time and again to define "insanity." The problem often arises when the quote is subtly changed; the line is often misquoted as:

"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result." (emphasis added)

This formulation is in error. Notice the difference at the end of that statement versus the one at the top. "Expecting different results" versus "expecting a different result." That minor change from the plural to the singular may seem innocuous, but in fact it changes the entire meaning of the statement, and indeed changes the statement from a definition of insanity into a definition of a different mental condition: stupidity.

Let's break this down. In both cases in question, the perpetrator of the dubious action commits the same act: he does the same thing over and over again. Nothing changes there. Whether you're stupid or crazy, you will apparently engage in repeated behaviors as a matter of course.

This repeat performance without variation tells the observer something about the perpetrator's state of mind--the question is, what does it tell us, and how? That depends upon the object of the repeated action. Changing the object of the action--doing the same thing over and over again, but with a different set of expectations for the result--defines either insanity or stupidity, depending upon those expectations.

When the expectations are focused on a singular outcome--"and expecting A DIFFERENT RESULT" (singular)--this is a hallmark of stupidity. This becomes clear if you consider a likely scenario for this test. Imagine a perpetrator who has been asked to perform a task similar to a classic IQ test assignment: place the correct peg in the correct hole. Someone who takes a square peg and tries to place it in a round hole of similar diameter is destined for disappointment. If that someone continues to try to place the square peg in the round hole, despite previous failures--because he apparently expects that a square peg somehow should fit into a round hole--then that individual displays a distinct lack of ability to learn from previous experience. That is the very essence of stupidity: inability to learn. In this example, there is one specific goal in mind--fitting the square peg into the round hole--which is never achieved, and that fact is never grasped because of the subject's inability to learn.

Things are different when the expectations change from repeated action to repeated action. When the perpetrator performs his deeds "EXPECTING DIFFERENT RESULTS" (plural), the equation changes. Now the subject repeats his action not due to a lack of learning from past failures; each time the actor performs his action, he does so with a brand new set of expectations for the result. The first time he tries to fit the square peg in the round hole, he may expect it to simply fit. The next time, he assumes the round hole will grow to accommodate the square peg. A third time, he may believe the peg will change shape, or simply disappear the instant it meets the edge of the hole--or any of dozens of other possibilities. Hence, different results. Expectations in such a case are untethered from the specific reality of a square peg not fitting in a round hole; in the perpetrator's mind, anything can happen, each and every time he tries the repeated action. Being detached from reality is, of course, the very definition of insanity.

Thus, when we encounter someone who does the same thing over and over again, determining the repeat actor's expectations for the results of his action is vital to figuring out if the person in question is stupid or crazy. If said person makes a clear declaration that "I will do X, and Y will result" and the continues to do X despite Y never occurring, you can make a pretty safe bet that that person is stupid. Otherwise, without that clear declaration of intentions and expectations, the individual who performs that same action repeatedly without ever getting anywhere--that individual is most likely insane, or at least not entirely in full possession of his proverbial marbles.

What this case study shows is how important it is to get your terms absolutely correct. Being sloppy or lazy with the language--shifting a singular to a plural, or vice versa, without fully comprehending the implications of the difference--can hinder understanding of what's really going on in this world, especially when a formula like Einstein's quote is casually tossed around by people who are not themselves "Einsteins." Modifying one letter--changed and then shifted within the phrase--can make for an entirely different meaning, one that the speaker never intended and that the listener will never fully understand.

Such are the perils of a lack of precision in using the language.

For The Record, Scale Check

You'd think that such a gigantic milestone would merit an immediate post to this site, but no, this picture is from three days ago, Monday June 1. But all distraction and lateness aside, this is very big news--the first time I've stepped on the scale and seen a number below 270 in at least 13 years (2002), and probably more like since 2001 (as my records for my weight back then are somewhat spotty).

Keen eyes will note that this photo was taken in different location from where I usually set up the scale for these weigh-ins, and that perhaps makes this number questionable, if not completely invalid. Maybe. For the moment, I will let this stand as an official entry; presumably, future weigh-ins will confirm the reality of this reading.

And I do expect future--near future--weigh-ins to do just that, since I have hardly been working at all lately, and the upshot of that has been me getting a great deal more exercise than had been usual. So I won't be surprised if I get to see some even smaller numbers soon.

Reel Reviews

Fury -- No, I won't go for the cheap shot and say the title came from how Brad Pitt felt towards his agent after reading the script. This isn't actually a particularly bad movie, just unoriginal. There's not much story beyond a series of vignettes about the craziness and intensity of war; that wasn't good enough when it was Saving Private Ryan, it certainly isn't good enough here. At least the combat scenes are remarkably well done (and grisly), but again, we've seen that before. Not bad, just not really necessary.

For the Record, Scale Check

This is encouraging, as it represents another milestone "lowest weight" in this long journey from almost eight years ago; then again, it's also frustrating, in that I still haven't seen a number below 270 in at least thirteen years, even though I'm so tantalizingly close. (The numbers get fuzzy when I compare weights back to 2002 and such; I didn't keep especially good records back then, just general "beginning of the year" weights, along with selected other milestones.) But I'm not going to complain--things are still moving in the right direction, and that's important for the big picture and the long term goals I'd like to achieve. Hopefully we'll see even more appealing numerals very soon.

Reel Reviews

A Million Ways to Die in the West -- This movie way wind up being Seth MacFarlane's Bananas or Sleeper; it is like one of those early Woody Allen vehicles in which its auteur carves out a unique niche for himself and tells a story (and jokes) that no other filmmaker working today would or could. The laughs come consistently--occasionally uproariously--and from such a skewed angle that they're entertaining in their idiosyncrasy alone. The other interesting thing here is the performance by Charlize Theron, who has previously been good but never this likeable and approachable before. This is must see stuff for comedy fans...maybe not so much for the wilting flowers (raunch dominates the humor here; few of the jokes are suitable for "polite company").

A Treatise on the Nature of Beauty

I've given a lot of thought to the nature of beauty over the years. Not because of anything I see in the mirror; far from it! But because I recognize--in a way that many people do not realize, or rather do not acknowledge--that beauty has an overwhelming influence on our lives: how we live, who we are, who we are allowed to be, where we fit in in this world (or this society, at least).

We use many words to describe beautiful people. Men are generally characterized as "handsome." We resort to a much broader range of terms when women are the subject: gorgeous, lovely, pretty, cute, alluring, ravishing...when it comes to female beauty, you could fill a thesaurus and the tremendous number of synonyms for what we call beautiful.

I've come to believe that the reason we have so many terms for a female beauty is as an acknowledgement that there are different kinds of beauty. Everyone who is good-looking is beautiful, but beautiful people come in different flavors, so to speak, and those different flavors affect the observer in different ways.

(An aside: Let's get one thing straight--beauty is NOT in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is one of the most rigidly defined aspects of human existence.

Studies have shown again and again that the symmetry and proportions of the human face determine how that face is perceived as beautiful or not. If you don't believe that, just drop a few words in that search bar up at the top of this window and you can find those results. [Here's a starting point: http://legacy.jyi.org/volumes/volume6/issue6/features/feng.html ]

Even when somebody declares as beautiful a person who is not, according to the common understanding of that term, that declaration is usually made to make a point--to engage in a certain amount of iconoclasm for one reason or another.

Individual tastes vary, for one reason or another, but if you ask a broad swath of observers to judge the beauty of this, that, or the other person, the vast majority will agree, whether the answer is yes, no, or meh--and if it's yes, that answer will apply to people so similar to other "yes" examples that researchers have developed masks that define a beautiful face based on the averages of such proportions.

Beauty, to put it bluntly, is mathematical; it's geometric. It is not a subjective experience.)

Insofar as most people acknowledge these differences, they tend to categorize those variations as part of a hierarchy. Meaning: the woman who is "pretty" is more beautiful than someone who is "just" "cute," and so on. However, I have come to believe that this is NOT true; the different flavors of beauty are perceived as such, but they do not relate to each other in any kind of tiered ranking. "Cute" is not inferior to "pretty"; it's just a different kind of beauty, one that--in the correct circumstances--can have more impact on the person perceiving it than the other varieties of beauty.

According to my theory, there are three primary forms of beauty. Two of these forms were immediately obvious to me, almost as to be self-evident: the aforementioned "Cute" and "Pretty." Most observers intuitively recognize a beautiful woman as being either of these categories (assuming she does not fall into the third, as yet undiscussed category). This discernment is most likely a culturally ingrained reaction, a thought process that most people have inculcated into their perception from a very early age. (Evidence suggests there's also innate discernment; studies with babies have shown differences in infants' reactions to different (in symmetry/proportion) faces.) How people react to a cute woman versus a pretty woman depends upon circumstances--and, most likely, individual preferences and experiences.

What qualities constitute these first two varieties of beauty?

Cute is that version of beauty that is approachable, youthful (of course, all beauty has a heavy youth bias), perhaps even babyish. Cute, due to its approachability, shows up a lot in TV commercials.

Pretty is something more classical, a more idealized beauty than Cute--one that is nevertheless somewhat commonplace. Or perhaps its better to say Pretty is not rare; we see Pretty all the time, every day, even as we highly value it in the world around us. Beauty queens, high school homecoming queens, girls who work as greeters in restaurants and other businesses--you see these typical examples of the Pretty type all the time, all around you.

And the third category? What is the proper term for that third variety of beauty? Indeed, what is that third variety of beauty? How does it differ from Cute and Pretty?

For a long time, I used the term "gorgeous" as the descriptor for this class of beauty--but mostly as a mental placeholder, since I knew that "gorgeous" is not the right term for this third variety. ("Gorgeous" does more to describe the viewer's reaction to the beautiful person; it does not really address what that person's beauty is.) The third variety of beauty, as can be gleaned from the use of the term gorgeous, is more superficially striking than Cute or Pretty; these beauties are often some somewhat exotic. One can fairly characterize this third class of beauty as rarer than the other two; it is the type of beauty that one typically sees in models, especially the more famous and sought after models (the somewhat ridiculous term "supermodel" is often apt).

It was that connection to modeling and fashion that led me to the best label for this third variety of beauty: "Glamorous." Note that Glamorous derives from glamor (or glamour), the old name for a magical spell. This is most apt, as Glamorous beauty is the most spell-casting of the three--a striking, forceful, perhaps even mesmerizing kind of beauty that almost demands attention, and often leads to its avatars being placed upon a pedestal.

That rare and elevated character of Glamorous beauty probably creates much of the inclination towards seeing different varieties of beauty as steps on a hierarchical ladder; i.e., Glamorous lives at the top of the ranks above Pretty, which is itself a step above Cute. However, this thought model does not reflect reality particularly well. As noted above, individual reactions to different types of beauty differ widely; the relative approachability of the Cute person may make her more valued in the eyes of some individuals, who at the same time may see the lofty nature of the Glamorous one to be too unreachable for his or her tastes. Bad experiences in the past with a Pretty type may lead an individual to devalue others of the same type versus those who fall into the other two categories. Other scenarios can be imagined which would switch the relative rankings of any of the three varieties up or down the ladder according to an individual's personal preferences.

Thus, it is best to view the three varieties of beauty as co-equal in the eyes of the world at large. A chart may help visually define the relationships between the beauty types:

Some notes about the beauty chart:

The three varieties of beauty can be seen as a subset of the beauty class as a whole. As in any Venn diagram, it is possible--indeed, with beauty (and human variability) it is a certainty--that some parts of the interior sets will overlap. The upshot of this is (in practical terms) that there are some people out there who are both Cute and Pretty, Cute and Glamorous, Pretty and Glamorous. The very center of the diagram marks those lucky few who--through some remarkable combination of genes and the observer's biases--present (to some extent) all three of the varieties in their persons. I placed Kate Upton there in the center, since she seems to be today's foremost exemplar of all the varieties of beauty rolled into one person.

Note too that the overall set, Beauty, contains not just the three standard varieties but also some subset(s) that fall outside of any of the standard categories; within these bounds you would find those relatively rare birds who embody unconventional beauty (but still meet with the approval of wide swaths of the population), and perhaps those other outliers mentioned above (those who are declared to be beautiful in the service of iconoclasm--maybe even those individuals who make themselves attractive to others not by physical perfection, but through sheer dint of will and personality).

Finally, note that the placement of the categories (Cute and Pretty above, Glamorous below) is arbitrary--the chart can be rotated any number of degrees around its centerpoint and still be representative.

In conclusion, it may be best to recognize one particularly important implication of this intellectual model for beauty: while some of us may be condemned to a lesser status for possessing in our persons little to no physical beauty at all, those who do have one form of beauty or another are not destined to a position inferior to other beautiful people. In other words, if you're Cute, you're not doomed to a lesser life than a Glamorous type. Nor, if you're Pretty, are you necessarily better than a Cute person. Different strokes for different folks--that tends to be the order of things, even within a subset of the general such as beauty.

Reel Reviews

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes -- The most ridiculous thing about this movie? The copious amounts of rain that are supposed to be falling on parts of California throughout. Talk about fiction, science or otherwise. The biggest takeaway here may be the fact that Andy Serkis is a marvel; how he is able to convey as much emotion as he does through the medium of motion capture, acting while wearing a "CGI mask" so to speak, is simply remarkable. And that talent serves this film well; though there is some absurdity to the plot, especially in the beginning (a weakness shared with its predecessor), this flick delivers an engaging, entertaining story that actually comes with some suspense in its denouement. If they can keep improving on their previous effort, another outing in the franchise might not be a bad idea.

Reel Reviews

Rise of the Planet of the Apes -- The movie is much like the featured primates: it starts off quite stupid, then it gets a boost midway through and starts looking smarter. It's hard to resist rolling one's eyes at the early parts of the film, especially the very paint-by-numbers plot points about corporate greed being the root of the evil (not that it doesn't ring true; it's just not very well presented here). There's also some character inconsistency that comes across as false and jarring as the story progresses; ironically, it's mostly the apes who stay true to character. And then you get plenty of good monkey mayhem towards the end. Satisfying, but definitely in the "leaves room for improvement" category.

Reel Reviews

Gone Girl -- Hard to tell what to say about this one. A couple of things spring out: for one, this story relies on the same conceit as almost all mystery genre works, namely that there can be such a thing as the perfect crime. Certainly, this is a story that believes wholeheartedly in its own smartness; perhaps it's better to say the author believes in how smart she is. But this scenario would almost certainly not play out this way in real life; the presumed mastermind would be caught and exposed much easier than is seen here. The movie does make its case (so to speak) that one could get away with it because media are so guilty of fashioning "the truth" that it hazes everything, including detective work. It also implies something I've known since at least the old days of watching Xena: Warrior Princess: men can be bad, but when a woman goes wrong you get a real monster. That may be a minor spoiler; sorry, but even if the ending is given away you can still get something from watching this flick. It's worth your time.

Recently Read

Stars and Strikes: Baseball and America in the Bicentennial Summer of ’76
by Dan Epstein

My earliest memories of baseball involve the Philadelphia Phillies and their division championship season of 1976. No surprise, then, that I would want to pick up Dan Epstein’s Stars and Strikes, which is nothing less than a history of that very season and of the cultural currents then having their impact in the USA during the nation’s 200th birthday celebration.

Epstein comprehensively tells the story of the 1976 baseball season: its preliminary moments before the season began, when the writing went up on the wall and told everyone who could read that free agency was imminent, and that baseball would never be the same; the month to month storyline of the actual season, which featured a repeat champion in the Cincinnati Reds but also a changing of the guard, in that former powers like the Oakland A’s, Pittsburgh Pirates, and Boston Red Sox saw their shine start to fade; and the aftermath once the World Series ended, when the big money started to flow and it was demonstrated that free agency mostly meant that the owners would have to be saved from themselves (which still hasn't happened in any meaningful way).

Stars and Strikes
by Dan Epstein

In covering the nuts and bolts of the baseball season, author Epstein presents the reader with workmanlike prose; his accounts of games, series, and streaks read so much like newspaper beat writer accounts that one wonders whether or not the author wrote that way according to a specific stylistic decision. (Epstein’s jacket flap bio indicates no stints as a beat writer, so it’s hard to say whether he comes to the style naturally or not.) Though these writings may come across as formulaic, Epstein nevertheless delivers mostly entertaining accounts of the events of the season, particularly in charting the meteoric rise (and eventual fall) of Detroit Tigers phenom Mark “The Bird” Fidrych, as well as the earliest rumblings of the volcano that would eventually explode from the Billy Martin-George Steinbrenner pairing as New York Yankees manger and owner. (If nothing else, Epstein does baseball fans the service of un-rehabilitating Steinbrenner and reminding everyone of just what a colossal asshole that man was.)

Along the way, Epstein also recounts the cultural phenomena that made up the contemporary scene in that oddest of celebratory years. Music in particular gets prominent display in the cultural history; Epstein quotes period hit songs as his chapter titles, with each chapter including some notes about the year's musical trends, from the mellow AM gold of the Starland Vocal Band, WAR, and England Dan and John Ford Coley, to the emergence of the soon-to-be scene-changing genres, disco and punk rock. Other hot topics, such as Legionnaire’s Disease, Bicentennial festivities, killer bees, racial tensions over busing, and (naturally, in a baseball book) The Bad News Bears, get their share of remembrance as Epstein brings what is now a wildly alien time temporarily back to life. Those of us who can (barely) remember those days can attest that, yes, life in 1976 really was that weird, and Epstein does the younger generation a service by documenting that fact.

Nostalgia may be less than ideal—the word has actually been used to describe what once was considered a disease—but the occasional indulgence can be harmless and fun, especially when the subject is the history-bound sport of baseball. Though it occasionally falls into rote recitation of the year's events, and it never reaches the literary heights achieved by the exemplars of the "one baseball season" genre (a la Halberstam or Angell), Stars and Strikes stands as one of the better entries in this now well-established genre. Fans of the sport, or even just those with an interest in cultural history, will do well to pick up a copy of Epstein’s work and take a groovy trip back to a time long gone--at least for a few hundred pages.

Reel Reviews

The Equalizer -- The world is littered with action movies exactly like this one. So why is this one in particular so satisfying and enjoyable to watch? Mostly, for the performance by Denzel Washington, who lives up to his usual standards in creating a character the viewer can’t help but believe in. (Washington is remarkably expressive even when he’s doing nothing. His expressionless silences say more than the efforts of 90% of all working actors today.) There’s also an intriguing bit of subtext about the characters Washington’s McCall helps; the hero encourages these lesser lights towards a belief in themselves that is belied by the bigger currents on display in the plot of the movie. Creative and intellectual dissonance, or a purposeful contradiction the viewer is invited to consider? You’ll have to judge that for yourself; give yourself that chance by watching this movie.

Reel Reviews

Afternoon Delight -- Not sure what to make of this one. Sure, there’s all kinds of indie cred here, but that does not necessarily make for a good movie. If this is meant to be a statement on the plus side for women, the effect is quite the opposite; all chauvinistic claims of female craziness seem verified here (in a movie written and directed by a woman, Jill Soloway, it should be noted). As a comedy, it’s not particularly funny; as a drama, the repercussions of the plot seem too minor to have much impact. I didn’t hate it, stayed mostly interested all the way through…but I suspect most people wouldn’t find this one all that interesting.

Reel Reviews

The Hundred-Foot Journey -- This one seems to have been overlooked by the movie-going public, and I'm not sure why. Its Indian-family focus? One would hope not. It's somewhat standard storyline? Maybe, although when even a clichéd plot is done this well true cinema enthusiasts should appreciate the effort. There's much to like here: Manish Dayal stands front and center as a very appealing underdog hero; Helen Mirren plays her part to a tee, keeping her frosty restaurateur icily cool right up to the moment when she needs to let the ice break and become a sympathetic character; and most impressive, perhaps, is DP Linus Sandgren's work in making this a truly beautiful movie to watch (rarely has cuisine been so belle on screen). Do yourself a favor and sample this platter's delights.

Recently Read

THINspired
by Mara Schaiavocampo

For some time now, I've had aspirations of writing a book about weight loss, using my own experiences going from weighing 340 pounds to today's 275 as grist for that mill. In particular, my ideas about weight loss--admittedly a straightforward process, when it's boiled down--took their form in an equation--The Equation, as it were--that helps distill my wisdom into a useful thought model that, I believe, can help those like me lose weight and live healthier (if not fully healthy) lives.

Of course, since weight loss is such a well-trodden path when it comes to publishing, I have not just compiled notes for my prospective work, but surveyed the field of weight loss books, to see if any other interested parties had the same thoughts I did.

In scanning the shelves, I came across only one book that seemed to display inspiration similar to my own. THINspired by Mara Schiavocampo is another individual's self-discovered program for losing weight. It even features an equation--or, as Ms. Schiavocampo puts it, her "Magic Formula"--as a framework for the author's weight loss program. Given these facts, I decided to read THINspired and see if all my plans and notes were for naught. Had I been beaten to the punch? Had I been scooped on the concept of an equation (by that or any other name), which would render my own plans to reveal a new weight loss thought model redundant and pointless?

Alas, though Schiavocampo contributes a few worthy ideas to the endeavor, she gets a lot of her equation--in my own humble but experienced opinion--wrong.

On the plus side, Schiavocampo is to be credited for devoting a large portion of her text to one of the under-recognized aspects of weight loss: the need for adequate sleep. Indeed, I place so much emphasis on sleep that I make it the first part of my own Equation. Unfortunately, while Schiavocampo had the sense to recognize sleep for the crucial element that it is, she still only deems sleep to be 10% of the program. Hardly any books on weight loss mention sleep; to identify so important a cog in the weight loss machine, and then to undersell it by deeming sleep to be only one tenth of the issue, undermines the force of her argument.

A lot of the rest of Schiavocampo's presentation consists of what one might call boilerplate weight loss advice. There's nothing particularly wrong with that; any book about weight loss must cover the fundamentals of "eat less, exercise more," since those basics are necessary to any successful weight loss effort. But some of her advice is problematic. She encourages readers to exercise by the mantra "train hard or go home"--advice that will rarely work for truly overweight individuals, who are often prone to injury by way of overexercising. Worse still, in lecturing her readers about the fundamentals, Schiavocampo reveals an outlook that, far from being encompassing and general, actually comes across as particular, idiosyncratic, and individual. In other words, one doubts that few overweight people could actually be successful following the author's lead.

Why? Because a great deal of what Schiavocampo preaches as the proper lifestyle for successful weight loss follows from her position as a person of means and opportunity. For instance, despite protestations about being on a budget and not being overly wealthy, Schiavocampo gushes about her exercise routine, including workouts and classes at what are apparently very trendy (and undoubtedly expensive) New York City fitness clubs. That feeling is reinforced by her name-checking her trainer friends, as if the average reader is supposed to know of these people already. (Namedropping is a relentless feature of THINspired; even those Schiavocampo identifies in the narrative as her personal friends get the first and last name treatment, so you know that she is hobnobbing with people who are Important.) This may be the norm when you are a television personality (Schiavocampo has worked as a reporter for ABC News, specifically Good Morning America, according to her jacket bio), but it doesn't reinforce her credibility with readers who wish to find legitimate advice on losing weight.

And, unfortunately, Schiavocampo's credibility is all too easy to question. As noted, she has a career in TV, and worked that job before she stumbled upon her "Magic Formula" for weight loss. How much weight did she need to lose? It is impossible from the text to accurately judge that. Fatties, as we know, rarely get hired to be television personalities. Schiavocampo puts her total weight loss at 90 pounds, which is an impressive figure without a doubt, and she relates stories from childhood where being overweight played a big role in her development. Yet, all we ever get from the author, in terms of hard numbers, is that figure of 90 pounds. At no point in the text does Schiavocampo give an actual scale reading for herself; the reader never knows just how much this woman actually ever weighed. (A quick web search reveals early, pre-weight loss pictures of the author, showing a woman who was indeed overweight, though not to this viewers eyes truly obese.)

Schiavocampo does, at one point, relate that she gained 40 pounds during pregnancy; so then the ninety pound total is boosted by the extra forty lumped on by having a baby? Was her real weight loss 90 pounds, or 50 pounds if you count from her pre-pregnancy, "normal" weight? In another passage Schiavocampo labels herself as having been a "size 14"; given the madness that is women's clothing sizes, readers could be forgiven for having no idea what that actually means in terms of shape and health. (Per Schiavocampo, size 14 is "the size of the average woman today.") The average woman may find something meaningful in those terms, but whether this discourse will actually be useful for those who need to drop the pounds is another matter.

So it goes for what the average woman might get out of THINspired; others, particularly men, would read this book and find a lecture that says little to them, or even speaks in a language that they can understand. Clearly, Schiavocampo wrote her book for a niche market of women like herself. Unfortunately, the reason we have such a wide open market for books on weight loss is specifically because the problem of overweight is so widespread and general; the niche approach, as represented by THINspired, paints the problem in terms too specific to ever be useful to more than a few individuals.

Schiavocampo should be commended for making the effort of trying to cast the basics of weight loss in a form that some (or even a few) will understand better than what they've heard before. If you are of a certain type, the ideas in THINspired just might click with you and help you get down the road towards a healthier you. But as likely as not, this one of Ms. Schiavocampo's reports may simply come across to you as dead air.

Reel Reviews

A Most Wanted Man -- This flick indulges in so many spy movie clichés--moody, atmospheric music; odd, disjointed camerawork; industrial, hole-in-the-wall workspaces; even the ultra-clichéd clandestine meetings on the waterfront, complete with industrial shipping in the background--that the only thing surprising is that the DVD doesn't come in a plain brown wrapper marked "SPY MOVIE." As such, the film does not make much of an impression beyond being Philip Seymour Hoffman's last role, though I will admit to the movie holding my interest for much of its running time; how much that is a product of the presence of the easy on the eyes Rachel McAdams may be a mystery more intricate than anything presented here.

For The Record, Scale Check

It's been a chunk of time since we last looked in on this situation, but there's finally progress to report, so take a look. This again marks a low point in the now seven+ year project of me trying to become a normal person. I really want to get past 270, because that will mark 70 pounds total lost since the whole thing begun. As I saw last year, if I remember right, this is an important notch on the belt, because it's a low point that comes before the summer, when losing weight tends to be substantially easier than at other times. (Note: this picture dates from Tuesday March 24, so it's going up a few days late.) If things go swimmingly, I'll see the sunny side of the milestone before the opening kickoff in the fall.

In fact, having just reviewed last year's entries, I see that in May of '14 I was clocking in at 281.0, so this represents real progress in less than a year, and given the full purview of all the entries, the rate may be picking up a bit. That's good news. There may be hope yet.

Reel Reviews

Draft Day -- So it's come to this: the NFL is now producing propaganda films like some 1930s dictatorship. One wonders if there is as much veracity in this exhibition as one might have found in, say, the movie within a movie in Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds. Either way, the Sabols are either spinning in their graves, or dancing in Hell, depending. Much of this movie comes across as Stupid with a capital S, though I must grudgingly admit that there's enough entertainment here to keep the viewer engaged. This is the kind of role Kevin Costner is good at, though everyone else in the cast is basically a cardboard cutout. Watch it if you really dig sports movies; just don't let yourself fall too far under the spell of "the shield."

Reel Reviews

Guardians of the Galaxy -- This movie gets a huge leg up in generating goodwill from its audience through its amazing soundtrack. The music nails it for appealing to viewers of a certain age, who most likely already have these songs on their preferred listening device--people like yours truly. Then again, it probably does some damage if those viewers recognize the soundtrack as a cynical ploy to appeal to said demographic, and thus boost ticket and home viewing sales. Call all that a wash, and thus we're stuck with trying to judge this film on its own merits--and that is a hit and miss proposition. For every space opera element that is derivative, predictable, and stale, there's also a piece of cleverness, good humor, and just sheer entertainment that offsets the problems. If we do the math, I think the whole thing winds up in the plus column; not by much, but enough that this one gets a passing grade, something just high enough to keep that goodwill going for the inevitable sequel.

No Appreciation for Depreciation

You hear it said all the time: "I would never buy a new car, because the value depreciates by a huge amount the moment you drive it off the lot."

This bromide has been repeated so often that it has become an honored bedrock constituent of conventional wisdom. Most folks who hear this sentiment will nod their heads in agreement at the worthy who spoke these words, and will swear to the heavens that they too would never buy a new car, lest they also see their car's precious valuation drop like a bird struck dead.

There's just one problem with all this: it's stupid.

I don't deny that a new car's value immediately decreases as soon as you've bought it. That's undoubtedly true. It's just that it doesn't really make much difference if your vehicle's value immediately drops by several hundred, or even thousands, of dollars as soon as you drive it. Why would it? Presumably, most people who buy a new car expect to keep that car for an extended amount of time, probably for many years. In that scenario, why would you care if the car you bought for $22,000 is now only worth $19,000? You're not planning on selling it anyway. Why do you need to make sure that you hold onto that extra three grand in value? Are you a junkie gambler and need to use your brand new car as collateral on some desperate bet? Will your bookie only accept a car valued at $20,000 on your parlay? If that's your situation, you've got bigger problems than your car's depreciation.

Value drops off sharply at first, but after some time the rate of depreciation is going to slow down (assuming you take care of the car reasonably well). The car you buy new will lose value quicker than the same car from two model years before purchased new or used. But in eight years, when the new car is eight years old and the earlier model is ten years old, which will have more value? As likely as not, it'll be the one you bought new, though probably not by much; both cars' values will approach each other as they get older and older.

Some will object that the valuation matters for insurance purposes; that is, for premium purposes and for what you'll get on a claim if the car is totaled a week after you drove it off the lot. Premiums will always be higher for a newer--that is, higher value--vehicle. But at least one insurer--Liberty Mutual--specifically advertises a policy of "one year newer" replacement for stolen or wrecked cars. Other insurers probably have similar policies, and if they don't...well, more business for LM. Bottom line: insurance is hardly a reason not to buy a new car, if you can afford it (both the car and the premiums).

The "depreciation problem" thing is one of those examples of something that stupid people hear and they agree with it because they think it sounds like wisdom--except, of course, they're stupid, so what do they know about wisdom? This matter, like many other examples of conventional wisdom, falls apart when you think it through.

Now, if you want to lease a new car...well, you're on your own there.

Jogging Your Mind, and Hand

I had an insight recently. Put most people in a meeting, or any similar situation, where they're sitting there with a pad of paper and a writing instrument, and most of those people will start doodling on the paper. Usually, we interpret such doodlings as evidence that the person with the pen is bored. However, I've come to suspect that that's not true.

I think that when someone starts doodling in such a situation, what he or she is actually doing is something similar to running in place. Joggers run in place when they are not moving forward, such as when waiting at a stoplight, but want to keep themselves at the ready and on their toes for when they do get the green light to go again. Doodling performs a similar function during note-taking situations: it's a way to keep your writing hand revved up and ready to move while there's nothing to note, so that you can quickly jot down your notes when there is something worth writing down.

Thus, it's unfair to accuse the doodler of being bored or not paying attention--he's actually paying attention and keeping his hand at the ready for the task ahead.

Not the most earth-shattering insight, perhaps, but it's an example of how everyday actions, when interpreted from another angle, can turn into something radically different from what we've always assumed them to be.

Recently Read

I Don't Care if We Never Get Back
by Ben Blatt & Eric Brewster

What is it about baseball that makes even its most partisan supporters feel the need to trash the game? To readers who delve into I Don't Care if We Never Get Back, that may not seem like a pertinent question. Since the book is a travelogue relating the ups and downs of two friends on a 30 games in 30 days road trip, and most of the downs are related to things that happen beyond the ballpark, you could be forgiven for believing that this book does little to besmirch the game of baseball. But it's not as simple as that.

Clearly, for no other sport would such a trip be possible; only baseball plays its games on such an abundant schedule that a game a day for a whole month would even be plausible. And no other sport would inspire one of its fans--note: one fan, despite the book's two authors; more on that below--to even contemplate such a trip, including going to the trouble of developing an algorithm that would provide--in theory--the most efficient driving route to get one's self all the way across the country and back for all those games, in minimal time. Only a baseball fanatic would go to such trouble, and thus the game itself comes under some scrutiny when the concept goes a little sour.

I Don't Care if We Never Get Back
by Ben Blatt and Eric Brewster

And sour it goes, on more than one occasion. Co-authors Blatt and Brewster find themselves in trouble all over the place: torrential storms that threaten their tightly woven schedule (not to mention their lives on the roads); ticketing troubles, including an unfortunate scalping incident; utter exhaustion due to lack of sleep, and its consequences; and a friendship strained to the limit by one participant's lack of enthusiasm for baseball.

It's that last item that hangs over the narrative right from the start, making the reader wonder why in the hell Brewster, who doesn't care much for the game, would agree to accompany the baseball and statistics mad Blatt on such a trip in the first place. It's out of friendship, of course, and that acknowledgement comes in due time, but the damage to the reader's enjoyment of the story is done long before Blatt and Brewser--in their prose, at least--come to terms with their fraternal feelings for each other. The authors play up the conflict for comedic effect, but for most readers the laughs are few and far between; the most likely impression the reader will get from these chapters is the sense that these guys are not very pleasant to be around. Why then would one want to waste time reading a book about them?

Other problems abound here, the major one being the choice to write the book in both second person and third person voices. The more illiterate among us probably wouldn't even notice, but if you understand composition at all, you're not likely to enjoy a narrative that bounces back and forth between "We did this..." and "Eric said this..." or "Ben checked that..." Perhaps it should have been a warning that the need to share author billing--and thus torment the voice of the narrative--would make for a less than successful book (and, for that matter, road trip).

Some further issues, mostly mechanical problems, take some steam out of this work as well. At one point, during a discourse on the worshipful attitudes fans take towards their favorite ballplayers, the authors offer this nugget:

In World War II, the United States government name a 422-foot ship the SS Christy Mathewson [sic] after the legendary Giants pitcher. The military, which surely should have no shortage of its own heroes to draw from on the battlefield or in the halls of Congress, chose to honor a man who threw a ball a shorter distance than a soldier could throw a grenade.

Um, no. That ship was named after Christy Mathewson, who, in addition to a Hall of Fame pitching career, served during WWI and thus suffered exposure to poison gas (during a training exercise) that left his lungs permanently damaged and susceptible to tuberculosis--a condition that ended his days on the mound. That story is well-known among baseball fans; how did the baseball-obsessed Blatt not know it, or not care enough to avoid besmirching the memory of one of the game's legends? Beyond that major gaffe, other instances of careless writing pop up: the sentence that begins "It's difficult to appropriate the exact moment..." (presumably, 'appropriate' should be 'approximate'); the chapter headings where the home of the Reds is spelled 'Cincinatti'; and the chapters where accounts of certain games get short shrift. Again and again, Blatt and Brewster come up short as proofreaders, at the least, if not as prose stylists.

There are a few redeeming notes here and there. The boys' rumination, in the course of a game in Baltimore, on the nature of "The Star Spangled Banner"--the national anthem as question, not statement, at least in its usually performed verses--is insightful and thought-provoking, even if the authors step on their own premise a few paragraphs later. And, as noted above, when Blatt and Brewster do finally acknowledge the depth of their friendship and what it means to them, they are redeemed (somewhat) in the reader's eyes.

Unfortunately, that redemption comes too late in the game to affect the outcome. I Don't Care if We Never Get Back has to go down as a loss for the authors and their readers. As with baseball itself, having a little respect for the game going into it is a big help; otherwise, the game is famous for humbling its participants. Blatt and Brewster should have learned that lesson on their trip, and if not then, then certainly by the time their book was published.

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A Nice Little Place on the North Side:
Wrigley Field at One Hundred
by George Will

As a newspaper columnist and television talking head, George Will has been the epitome of elitism and snobbery, all wrapped up in a bow-tied package that serves only the interests of the wealthy masters who pay him handsomely for such representation. But every once in a while, Will steps away from his political role and chooses to celebrate his other--perhaps only legitimate--passion, baseball. And when Will writes about baseball, he becomes...well, not exactly likeable. Tolerable is probably a better adjective for this other dimension of Will's character.

Loveable is not the correct adjective either, though it is one that is often attached--along with tag "losers"--to Will's subject in his latest baseball book, the Cubs. For while A Nice Little Place on the North Side is ostensibly about Wrigley Field, the ballpark is just a building, and it would be of little note to anyone but for the actions of the team that has spent most of the park's history as its primary tenant.

George Will's
A Nice Little Place on the North Side

That's a problem, because, while a reader should absorb an author's work with a dispassionate mind, the fact is that when a professional sports team serves as the bulk of a book's subject, only a non-fan can maintain that kind of stoic disassociation. And those who are not sports fans rarely pick up sports-related books. Those who will crack the spine of a newly minted baseball book are most likely baseball fans, who will bring to those pages their own thoughts, feelings, and memories regarding the team in question.

Hence, the central role played by the Cubs in A Nice Little Place... can undermine the reader's enjoyment of the book (unless, of course, you are--like Will himself--a long-time Cubs fan). While a baseball fan may be able to appreciate a telling of the highs (rare) and lows (legion) of the Cubs' history, he is unlikely to be moved in any great sense by the vignettes presented in this book. (Will eschews a straight narrative history of the park and instead offers a more episodic, mostly chronological telling of Wrigley Field lore.)

That is probably why A Nice Little Place... is at its best when Will shifts away from idle tales about the Cubs' fortunes and relates more information about how Wrigley Field has affected the team's performance. Nowhere is this clearer than in Will's portrait of P.K. Wrigley, the son of the field's namesake and "reluctant owner" of the Cubs through the much of the middle of the 20th century (when losing records became Chicago's hallmark). In the junior Wrigley, Will gets to portray a near perfect idol for why the Cubs have underachieved for so long; the man actually came out and plainly said that his goal, in emphasizing the Wrigley Field experience (rather than winning teams), was to cater to "people not interested in baseball." Will builds a solid case that such a philosophy--ballpark as showcase and team as afterthought--has been the ruin of many a Cubs season.

One wonders then, if the ballpark has been so guilty, why would a true blue Cubs fan be so quick to lionize the place? Will, however, never wavers from his Cubs fan bona fides, even expressing some cautious optimism that the current Ricketts family ownership will put a stop to all this "just have a good time" stuff and put a winning team on that hallowed field. How quaint. Anyone who's been paying attention knows that recent renovations aren't going so well, and the neighborhood around Wrigley Field is getting restless.

So it goes for the Cubs, and partisans such as Will will have to endure the tribulations for a while longer before they see better days for their favorite team. And if things keep working out as usual for the team on Chicago's North Side? Well, Will and his friends will still have their favorite ballpark--in at least some of its glory--to comfort them with memories good and bad. Such is life and baseball.

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