Review: The Thing

Do you have those movies that you've seen so many times that you've actually forgotten the first time?

I'm like that with "John Carpenter's The Thing". I think it's pretty safe to say that it is, hands down, my favorite horror movie of all time. I practically know it by heart. I re-watch it and study the evolving (or should I say deteriorating) relationships among the group of fairly ordinary men in an Artic research station that is infiltrated by a shape shifting alien that can perfectly imitate any animal it can devour.

I think it's a perfect horror movie. It's tense and scary. It's got great laugh out loud moments. It's pretty original. And it's super bleak.


It's funny to me that Carpenter himself worships the original movie, "The Thing From Another World", where the alien is basically a Frankenstein monster made of vegetables who fertilizes new versions of himself using human blood. It's such a weird, quirky movie with the stereotypical stupid scientist. But it also has some great jump out moments and a great end line:
"Tell the world, tell everyone: Watch the skies everywhere, keep looking, keep watching the skies!"

But, frankly, I don't find "The Thing From Another World" scary at all. For my money, the original "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" trumps it in every way: scare factor, Cold War paranoia, direction, performance... it even has a better end line: "They're here already! YOU'RE NEXT!!!"

That said, I can appreciate that The Thing From Another World comes from a different era in horror moviemaking, so I can excuse Carpenter's affection.  Especially because I so appreciate what he did with his own take on the film.  By returning to the original source material, John Campbell's novella, "Who Goes There?", Carpenter rediscovered the true paranoia and horror of this unwelcome visitor from another planet.

What's interesting to me in reading the Campbell story is the intelligence that's implied about the monster by the investigating scientists.  While a reviewer of the current prequel to Carpenter's film (which we'll get to in a moment) asks how such a creature could evolve through natural selection, Campbell assumes that the creature has developed the science that allows it to adapt to any environment at a cellular level.  They even assume that they've never seen its natural form, that even its ship was something it had appropriated from another species it had imitated.

Which is what is so great about Carpenter's film - the thing isn't just a monster.  In many ways, it's smarter than the humans and is constantly a few steps ahead of them, deliberately sowing the seeds of mistrust as it swallows them up, one by one.

It's this intelligence, this cunning, that is the single biggest thing I miss the most in the new prequel, "The Thing", with Mary Elizabeth Winstead.  But, don't get me wrong.  I actually love this movie.  It really takes the horror aspects of the franchise to a new level.  For fans of the Carpenter film, the way the two-faced thing is born in this film has to be one of the most horrifying scenes in any movie I've seen in some time.  The effects are crazy and the cast is great.  Mary Elizabeth really reminds me of Naomi Harris in "28 Days Later".  As my better half said, by the end of the film, what she's experienced, you cannot take any chances.  You have to be as hard core as possible.

But her survival hinges on the way the thing chooses to attack her early in the film.  Frankly, it's sloppy and not nearly as clever as it is in the Carpenter movie.

Then again, it is a prequel.  Maybe the Norwegian camp taught the thing a thing or two.

Go see them all.  They're great films.

The God of Forethought, or A Comment on Steve Jobs

I've always loved Greek mythology.  And one of my favorite myths has always been the one about Prometheus.

In short: Prometheus was a god who secretly gave the gift of fire to man for the first time.  But, because the other gods held fire for themselves, they punished Prometheus by chaining him to a mountain top where an eagle would come every day and, essentially, disembowel him.  And, because he was a god, his wounds would regenerate every day so that this eventually very fat eagle would always have something to snack on.

But if I may run with the myth analogy for a bit more, I think the true gift that Prometheus gave to the masses wasn't just the spark to light the bonfires.  It was the example he set.

Not only that the heavens could be challenged, but that they MUST be.  By everyone.  That the cost was far outweighed by the treasures.

And when you do that, a new world can be born.

Imagine if we all strove to achieve what he achieved.  Imagine if THAT was the standard.

Think of the universe that could be born.

Thanks for the spark, Steve.  You'll be missed.

The Record or how Facebook is literally rewriting history

I had a true "a-ha" moment today, sitting in the hall listening to Mark Zuckerberg give his keynote address at F8, Facebook's annual developer's conference.

To coin a phrase, history isn't just written by the victors. It's written about the victors: the people we've all some how collectively deemed important and significant. But, in Facebook's perfect world, by introducing their new timeline feature, they want to write history about EVERYONE.

Every action and relationship and preference for every single human being on the planet.

So, a billion years from now, when our sun has gone supernova and even our graves have been reduced to cinders, if someone has the presence of mind to stick Facebook's user database on a truckload of drives and shoot it into space before the end, some alien civilization will know exactly when my niece graduated from high school, and what kind of music my coworker liked to listen to and when my classmates' babies were born and when I got engaged and how much we loved each other. And they'll know that about all of you, too.

It's a true history of the human race, were we all matter enough to be cataloged.

Too romantic? Probably. But its a nice dream, and worthy of aspirations.

About that "Fright Night" remake...

Last month in the post "Scream and Scream Again", I made a defense of horror remakes, and the new 3-D Fright Night in particular - that we should judge all of these movies on their own merits.  Well, I just want to say, having now actually seen the new Fright Night, that it's actually one of the better studio horror movies I've seen in some time.  Shocking, great twists, and intense.  Kudos to all involved.  If you're a horror fan and your boycotting it out of some misguided loyalty to the original film, shame on you, because you're missing out.

Jawjacking with Gods, or why I love Grant Morrison.

For those of you who don't know, Grant Morrison is a comic book writer. Most recently, he's worked on the relaunch of Superman in the new Action Comics #1 and has been writing Batman for the last 4-5 years. His big projects include JLA, New X-Men, Final Crisis, Doom Patrol, Animal Man, as well as his amazing creator-owned work We3, The Invisibles, and The Filth.

All of which probably mean absolutely nothing to you if you don't read comic books.

But what's fascinating about Grant (@grantmorrison) is that he treats his role as a comic writer in much the same way that someone like David Bowie treats his role as a musician. Grant wants to find the magic in comics and bring that world to life here in the real world.

As he says in the documentary below, "the bomb before it was the bomb was an idea. But Superman is a better idea, so why don't we try to make that one real."

I felt like I never experienced both the humanity and the wonder of The Justice League or The X-Men or Batman until they were written by Grant. And only grant could make an idea as insane as We3 (logline: household pets are kidnapped and turned into cyborgs by corrupt military scientists before going on a killing spry to find their way home to their owners) into something so equally beautiful, horrific, tragic, and triumphant, all at the same time.

When I write, I want to be more like Grant Morrison.

I highly recommend watching this entire documentary. It's so worth it.

The Art of 9/11

Rather than talking about the event itself, I'd much rather reflect on all of the amazing artistic responses the September 11th terror attacks elicited.  Tragedy always requires an emotional outlet, and these films and TV shows, at least, in my opinion, captured them perfectly.  And, frankly, I don't think any of these shows would have existed in the form that we know them without that awful day.  These are just the top few off the top of my head on a Monday morning.  I'll add as more occur to me, but please, feel free to chime in yourselves.

24

Battlestar Galactica

The Dark Knight

Planet Terror

Looking The Devil In The Eye or why you should get my latest horror ebook

I just published the third of my short horror ebooks to Amazon's Kindle store this weekend.  This one is called "The Monster That Ate My Summer Vacation", and it's the end result of a story idea that had been rattling around in my brain for sometime.  It's about a family driving home from a vacation through the high desert.  They make the wrong turn.  They make the wrong stop.  And then, it finds them....

In a weird way, this is kind of a story for my dad because it sort of combines his two favorite genres: horror movies and westerns.  Because law enforcement in a western was a job that was much more naked (and, for those of you who've already read it, you'll have to excuse the pun).  And, as a result, MUCH more frightening.

Anyway, I don't want to get too much into the sausage-making on this.   Please just download and enjoy the steadily increasing insanity.

Version 3.0 or Why you should take a look at my new blog design for Macroscope

I first started this blog way back in 2002 and, since then, this is only the third time I've changed the overall look and feel of the site.  But, conceptually, I felt that it was time to get a bird's eye view on the so-called "blazing world", which, ultimately, is what this blog is all about.  Clearly, what we call the real world intrudes quite a bit, because it influences what we create, but I want to refocus on the things that matter most to me: art, culture, soul, and the creative things we all love.

With that in mind, take a look at http://macroscope.blogspot.com.  It's a lot less anonymous, and features much more of my own original work, especially my ebook short stories.  It also integrates a lot more with all of the nifty social networking stuff.  So, if you read a post you like, click the Facebook or Twitter or Google+ buttons near the top and share with your buds.

Oh, and I got rid of all the ads, too.  I think the Goldline banners were the last straw.  :-)  Sorry, AdSense.

I want to thank you all for continuing to read.  I think this is going to be a much more fun place.

At The End of the World, or why I love Apocalypse Now

People often ask me what's my favorite movie.  I used to say "Vertigo", Hitchcock's hypnotic masterpiece on unrequited love, obsession, and madness.  Makes sense for a teenager still trying to navigate his way through the the maze of frustrated romance while focused on unattainable, unrealistic female idols.

And then I saw Apocalypse Now.

I don't think it's any exaggeration to say that this movie literally changed my life.

But, to understand that, you have to understand who I was before that.  I joke with my friends that, if I'd been born bigger, I'd have probably been a bully.  A judgmental, moralistic, holier-than-thou bully.  The world was quite black and white to me at that age.  But, of course, how else could it be?  I didn't know anything.

I know young people get really frustrated when they hear older people talk about how much more they know than them and how far behind they are.  They think that the older folks have forgotten what it's like to be young.  The truth of the matter is, we remember it, quite vividly.  We relive those moments every day, looking into the mirror and wondering why what's staring back at us doesn't match what we imagine.

My mother jokes that she believes that time is actually moving faster now because, in her words, "these rascals have messed with the universe."  But the fact of the matter is, a year seems much more fleeting when you've had nearly 70 of them like Mom has.  When you've only had 16 of them, a year seems like a precious eternity.

But I digress.  I thought I knew it all.

What Apocalypse Now showed me was that, out in the jungle, away from the catered safety of a general's trailer where you can issue edicts without mud on your boots, the world is not binary.

It's very, very, messily analogue, where the difference between right and wrong isn't a cliff, but a sloping continuum.

It's funny, because the emotional journey of that movie mirrored my intellectual journey during college and much of my life thereafter.  I was sent off to learn and do extraordinary things, and suddenly turned around and realized that I had far less in common with the people in my home than the folks out here in the jungle with me.

Tree of Knowledge, maybe?

Like Capt. Willard says towards the end of the film: "They're going to give me a medal for this, and I wasn't even in their f'n army anymore."

My eyes opened.  And for that, I am eternally grateful.  It took some old parts of me, but brought back so much more.

Thank you Francis, and John, and Martin, and Marlon.

Scream and Scream Again or Why I'm going to see the new "Fright Night"

There was a time when "Love At First Bite" was too much for me to handle as a horror movie.

For those of you who don't remember, that was the comedy where George Hamilton (who made being orange kewl way before anybody had ever heard of John Boehner) plays a bumbling, comedic Dracula in the modern world.  And, if my memory is correct, that movie largely came about in response to the success of John Badham's "Dracula", starring Frank Langella as the count and Laurence Olivier as Van Helsing.  Which, of course, comes well before Coppola's early 90's remake with Gary Oldman and Anthony Hopkins, and well after the long line of Hammer Films' Dracula movies with Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing.  And let's not even get into Bela Lugosi and the classic Universal "Dracula", or Max Schrek and "Nosferatu".

In short, for as long as we've had movies, particularly horror movies, we've had remakes.

Now, it's pretty fashionable to cry and moan about how remakes suck and the filmmakers have no respect for the original films.  But, let's be real about this:

John Carpenter's "The Thing"
David Croenberg's "The Fly"
Philip Kaufman's "Invasion of the Body Snatchers"
Zack Synder's "Dawn of the Dead"
(yes, I'm going to go there) Rob Zombie's "Halloween"

Those are just some movies that I can tick off from memory that are all remakes of great movies that are actually great movies in their own right.  Heck, even the original Fright Night, which I absolutely adore, is a very self-referential nod to those old Hammer vampire movies ("Peter Vincent"?  Come ON! :-)).

Yes, there are plenty of remakes that suck (I'm looking at you, Vince Vaughn "Psycho").  But even Hitchcock did a remake of one of his own movies, namely "The Man Who Knew Too Much".  And, frankly, there are plenty of original movies that suck, too.  I think, in the end, we have to evaluate all of these movies on their own merits.

I LOVE that Carpenter "Thing" movie.  But, after seeing this trailer, I am all over the prequel:


I remember someone once asked Alan Moore how did he feel about Hollywood ruining his books like From Hell and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Moore simply pointed to the books on his shelf and said "see, my books are just fine."

Those old movies will always be there, and these remakes may just give them new life.

I'll never forget Chris Sarandon as Jerry Dandridge.


But I'm going to give Colin Farrell a chance.

Claustrophobia

It starts with a feeling.

You barely notice it at first. It all seems so innocuous and ordinary. So, of course, you tell yourself that it's nothing. Maybe it's just the night wind that's making your hair stand on end.

Then you realize that there is no breeze. That the air is standing perfectly still.

The night knows something that you don't, and it's holding its breath.

Waiting.

But as for you, you ignore the signs. You ignore the signals that your animal brain, long buried under rational thought, conventional wisdom, and common sense, is screaming at you, even as you take those few fateful steps forward.

Your animal brain tells you there are only two options: Fight or Flight.

What's really sad is that it's wrong. There's only one option, and you choose it the moment you decided to come here.....

This is not an excerpt. This is a feeling, special delivered just for you to get you in the right frame of mind for my latest horror short story.

It's called The Worst Place On Earth and, frankly, the ending makes my skin crawl.

I hope you enjoy it. :-)

Available now exclusively at Amazon.com at http://amzn.to/kqziIH. Click the link or button below to download your copy.

Bright Lights. Big Cities. Pretty Ladies.

In many ways I suppose I'm a recovering professional wrestling fan. Call it yet another Saturday morning habit that I never grew out of. One of my earliest memories with my best friend & future best man was watching him mimic Pedro Morales' convulsions after being thrown out of the ring on his head by Greg "The Hammer" Valentine when we were both about 7 years old. My grandfather was also a huge fan, and one of the ways we bonded was that he would take me with him to the live events at what used to be called the Baltimore Civic Center.

But, of course, Wrestlemania was different. It was always a huge event in some huge venue, and, in the days before pay per view, if you couldn't get a ticket, your only option was to go to some hall where they'd be projecting it on a movie screen in closed circuit TV. So, Granddaddy took me with him to see Wrestlemania IV on the closed circuit, where the main event was a tournament for the WWF World Championship. In the end, the winner, and my favorite to win the night, was The Macho Man, Randy Savage.



The Macho Man died in a car accident yesterday, and the world is definitely poorer for having lost his unique brand of craziness. I was always a fan, and I'll miss him.

But, as I think back to that show, something really awful dawned on me.

Here's the card from that night back in 1988:
* Bad News Brown (DEAD - Heart Attack) won a 20-man battle royal, including the Junkyard Dog (DEAD - Car Accident), Bred Hart, Harley Race, and others
* Don "The Rock" Muraco def. Dino Bravo (DEAD - Gunshot)
* Greg Valentine def. Ricky Steamboat
* One Man Gang def. Bam Bam Bigelow (DEAD - Drugs)
* Ravishing Rick Rude (DEAD - Drugs) fought Jake "The Snake" Roberts to a draw
* The Ultimate Warrior def. Hercules Hernandez (DEAD - Heart Failure)
* Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant (DEAD - Heart Failure) were both disqualified
* Brutus Beefcake def. The Honkytonk Man by disqualification
* The Islanders, Haku & Tama, and Bobby Heenan def. Koko B. Ware and the British Bulldogs, Davey Boy Smith (DEAD - Heart Attack + Drugs) and The Dynamite Kid (PARALYZED)
* Demolition def. Strike Force
* The Million Dollar Man, Ted Dibiase def. Hacksaw Jim Duggan, then Don Muraco
* The Macho Man, accompanied by Miss Elizabeth (DEAD - Drugs) def. The Natural Butch Reed, Greg Valentine, The One Man Gang, and Ted Dibiase to become the undisputed World Heavyweight Champion

Let's not even get into the long list of wrestler deaths in between (Mr. Perfect, Crash Holly, Eddie Gilbert, Owen Hart, Eddie Guerrero, Chris Benoit, Louie Spiccoli, Rocco Rock, Johnny Grunge, etc.)

There's something terribly wrong when something that's supposed to be fake, pre-determined violence leads to so much death.  As much as I enjoyed it, I can't help but wonder did I, as a fan, contribute to many of these deaths by encouraging this insane lifestyle?

It's entirely too sad.

That said, I have a treasure trove of fond memories, both of the shows, and what they meant to my family, so, for that, I am eternally grateful to The Macho Man and his friends.

Thank you, Randy Savage. There will never be another one like you.  Rest in peace.

The Darker Side

I'm a pretty sociable person, so, when I first arrived at the American Film Institute, most of my classmates just assumed that I wrote comedies.

And then we had our first cold reading session, where we essentially bring in a bunch of actors to sit on stage and just read your script as if they were in some sort of radio program.  The piece that I'd submitted was a short film script called "Recipe for Disaster", which is all about a pair of mob accountants who're trying to kill their mob lawyer buddy over dinner before he can inadvertently reveal to their bosses that they've been embezzling.  The murder plot involves a pot roast, plyers, and a potato peeler, and the characters all gleefully bounce around each other like something out of a 50's sitcom.

When it was all said and done, one of my classmates looked at me, shook his head, and said, "You're sick."

Like Garth Brooks said, I blame it all on my roots.  As I've said about 6 years ago in my blog post about Eli Roth's Hostel, I love horror, starting with my Dad's fascination with "monster movies".  October is probably my favorite month of the year for movies, because all of the new horror flicks premiere while all of the old ones get their just due in constant rotation on cable TV.  I remembered being terrified of the little vampire boy outside the window in the TV version of "Salem's Lot", which, for my money, is still Stephen King's scariest novel.  I used to burn through King novels like mad in high school.  I think I read "It" in a week.  And THEN I discovered Clive Barker and HP Lovecraft, where horror wasn't just bound by what you could see and touch and feel.  There were other things, and other worlds too terrible to imagine.

My favorite Lovecraft stories always seem to have a moment where the main character sees.... something, and says "and in that moment, I went insane."

And, in those moments, I'm reminded of John Carpenter's commentary on the Saw movies:  he finds them all incredibly funny.  And, frankly, so do I.  Just like Re-Animator, or the moment when the alien head grows legs and tries to run away in The Thing.

Did I mention that I have a soft spot for Metallica, too?

Like King said, I've had all of these ideas bouncing around in my head, and frankly, why wait to see them in film form?  They're stories.

Which is why I've decided to just write.  Like Poe and Shelley and Bram Stoker and all of those other storytellers who predate the moving picture.

So, I've concocted this gruesome little tail that begins with a pair of hitmen killing each other.  It's called "I'll See You In Hell", and, if you're curious about the plot, remember that my favorite Clive Barker movie is "Hellbound: Hellraiser II".

 If you'd like to read it, you can buy it and get it in electronic format from my friends at Amazon.com.  See?
My friends, not only would I appreciate you buying it and sharing it with your horror loving friends (and I mean that seriously, because it's not for the faint of heart), but it would also be a massive help if you did the following:

• Go to the page for my short story on Amazon.com and click the "Like" button.
• Rate it (five stars, please)
• Comment on it (which would probably require you reading it, but that's up to you).
• share it on your own Facebook page
• and, for those of you with Twitter, watch for my tweet and re-tweet it.
• And, if you're feeling REALLY helpful, go to my author page at http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004YXN65U and do the same (like, post to Facebook, tweet, etc.)

And for those of you who don't have Kindles, don't worry: you can download it to your computer or your smart phone as well, too.

This is the first in a series of short stories I'm writing for the Kindle marketplace, the vast majority of which are  going to be horror, sci-fi, and genre pieces, so keep an eye on my author page, Facebook, Twitter, and, of course, Macroscope, for the updates.

Thank you all for being such a good audience over the years here at Macroscope.  I hope some of you will follow me down this new path.  It may be scary, but I'm pretty sure it will be worth it.

I Write

Just the other day, I encouraged one of my students to start posting daily on Facebook so that she can become more comfortable with sharing her work with the public.  She called her first post "I am a Writer", and frankly, I was a bit inspired by her affirmation.

That phrase is something that I've said for years to justify or explain away my behaviors and proclivities.  Why I can't wait to tell, basically, anyone anything.  I suppose, at a level, it's a love for the sound of my own voice, regardless of the medium, but it I think it's also something deeper.

My uncle died when I was about 6 years old, and after the funeral, I had a bit of a morbid curiosity for the program, his obituary in particular.  As I read about his life, I began to imagine what those moments were like: growing up in Cambridge, MD; joining the Army; getting married and starting a family.  I had the entire scene in my head.  For reasons that are really beyond me, I was compelled to draw these images and, essentially, make a picture book companion for this obituary.

Now, I know some of you are thinking, "Wow, I had know idea his craziness started that early."  And, if that's the case, boy, you're really in for something on my next post.  But more about that later.

I shared this picture book with my folks, and my mother, bless her heart, photocopied it and started sharing it with her coworkers.

My very first publisher.  :-)

I've always written.  It's in my DNA somewhere.  I come from a family of storytellers.  Some who like to hold court in the middle of a crowd, holding sway like a gladiator at the center of the colosseum.  Others who like to lean over tables and tell secrets in quiet.   But the story is always an act of sharing.  Sharing feelings, news, affections, horrors, tributes, rebukes...

Film, to me, is just another form of writing.  But there are other forms that are more essential, more primal.  No one ever needs to give you permission to write.  Not the public, not a publisher, certainly not a movie studio or producer.  To paraphrase Talib Kweli, if you can talk, you can write.  And that's not just a statement on capability.  That is your birthright.

Seven Last Words

HE died for you.  Sunday, HE lives.

Jesus Dies on the Cross
The Greatest Story Ever Told at MOVIECLIPS.com

First Amendment Remedies

A very brief comment about the revolution we just saw in Egypt:

There's a reason why freedom of speech, religion, and public assembly come first in the Bill of Rights, before the right to bear arms.

THOSE are the things that are the basis of your freedom.  Not a weapon.

The founding fathers knew it.  Gandhi knew it.  MLK knew it.  And it looks like the people in the Middle East are starting to figure it out.

In the age of intercontinental ballistic missiles, your 9mm cannot guarantee your freedom.

Only the courage of your convictions and the purity of your ethics has the power to do that.

One is just an emblem of your fear.  The other is a symbol of strength unfailing.

Sleep on that a bit, patriots.

Congratulations, Egyptians.

Conspiracy of Dunces

So, a few things about this year's crop of candidates.

The other night, Rachel Maddow mentioned a GOP Senate candidate who makes a point of telling his supporters that he can't pronounce names like "Sotamayor". Or "Ahmadinejad".  Or "Chu".  It's always a big laugh line for him.  To this day, Sarah Palin is OFFENDED that Kathy Couric had the nerve to ask her what newspapers she reads.

Now, there are other conservatives who at least recognize that creating the appearance of education is a good thing.  Christine O'Donnell tried to pretend she went to Princeton and Oxford. But, I can tell you for a fact that there are no mice with human brains running around the Evolutionary Biology department at Princeton.  Now, Glenn Beck is trying to create his own university, with classes on Faith, Hope, and Charity.

I think about the creationists, who've now retreated into the realm of "intelligent design", which basically breaks down like this: a lot of really complicated things happened to create the universe, and I don't understand it, but since it all works, there MUST be some intelligence behind it.

I know studying and reading and learning aren't exactly easy.  But, since when did willful ignorance become a virtue?

Why are people now PROUD to proclaim that they don't know things?  Why are people ANGRY when you suggest that they should read more?

I know I'm weird, right?  Because I'm an obsessive researcher.  I love to know, well, everything.  So I study like crazy.  But I'm not asking people to be like me.  I'm just asking people to, I don't know, learn something.

I mean, if you got on a plane, you wouldn't want the guy who is proud that he doesn't know anything about aerodynamics or flight controls or, well, flying, to actually pilot the plane, right?   I mean, no, I don't know how to fly, but I'm not insisting that the pilot be as ignorant as I am about flying just so I don't feel, what, inadaquate as we're soaring at 30,000 feet.

So why are we so ready to vote for "the guy I could have a beer with".  Christine O'Donnell says "vote for me because I'd do what you'd do".

No!  I want someone who'd do what someone who knows more about these kind of things than me.  At least it gets done right.  My pride is not so fragile that I need to see the country go down the tubes just so I can say to my congressman "I could do your job".

I remember reading Bill Bradley's book, "Times Present, Times Past", where he talked about his involvement in the US Senate with water management legislation in California, which is a stupidly complex thing involving land rights, aquaduct construction & management, and a ton of other things I know nothing about.  The end result is that clean water comes out of my tap.  I WANT someone smart about these issues in there making the decisions.

Representative government means representing my interests, not replicating my own stupidity.

Wake up, people!

But the reality is that all of these GOP/Tea Party loons are just a big distraction.  There are people who fundamentally don't believe in government who support these clowns, because the government is all that stands between them and a state of nature, which is what they really want.  There are some economically powerful people who want all of the laws to go away so that we're returned to a world where only the strong survive, because they figure they're strong and they'll win.  They want you to think that government doesn't serve a purpose, or is only worthy of clowns, charlatans, and con men.  And, frankly, I think those people are just fundamentally unAmerican, because the end result of such a world is feudalism.

A conservative I greatly respect is David Frum.  I don't agree with his philosophies or political agendas, but I admire his firm faith that government is a place where the country can be made better.  And he's commented on his blog several times that many of these so-called candidates from the GOP lately actually have no interest in running the country.  Mike Huckabee and Palin and O'Donnell are only in the race so they can get their own TV shows later on some network that pays them a lot of money.

Serving in public office is a privilege that carries a heavy responsibility.  If you believe in your principles, you should want to be the sharpest, smartest, most logically & legislatively sound public official you can be.  Frankly, I wish there were more David Frums.

Don't Let will.i.am Destroyed America!

Remember this video?



And how we were all so inspired and fired up and ready to go two years ago?

I may have mentioned this in a previous blog post, but it's worth repeating:

I had a dream back in February of 2009, about month after the inauguration. In the dream, I was at Camp David during a snow-covered winter night, interviewing President Obama for this very blog.

I kid you not.

And after he'd given me the walking tour of the place and introduced me to the First Lady (where, I'm sure, if it had been in real life, I would have traded a few stories with her about the old Third World Center at Princeton), I stopped him and asked him if there was anything he wanted to say directly to my readers. And the President's words were, and I quote:

"Keep dreaming. But be ready to do the work."

I'm reminded of John F. Kennedy's speech about the moon landing.

"We choose to do these things not because they are easy, but because they are hard."

The easy part, my friends, was electing Obama.

When it was all a wonderful silly dream about how amazing we could make this country.

But the fact of the matter is, it's a lot of freakin' work. And I don't have to tell you that work, frankly, sucks. It's tiring and time consuming and it takes away from all the games you want to play and all the movies you want to watch.

But laziness has a very high cost.

My point is, things are very hard in the country right now. And we keep hearing about this so-called enthusiasm gap, where all of the energy appears to be with the people who are so mad that Obama's not a magician and can just make 30 million jobs and trillions of dollars in debt to China and a crappy infrastructure and political corruption disappear by wiggling his nose like Samantha on "Bewitched".

And THESE fools would rather that Obama stop, so we can keep on losing 700,000 jobs a month, like we were back when I had that dream.

I'm not talking to them. I'm talking to all of you who watched that will.i.am song and decided that I should vote for Obama because it would be kewl.

To Hell with Kewl. This country still needs your help. We're moving, very slowly, in the right direction, but we need to continue to have a supportive congress and local government to make it happen.

Obama's not officially on the ballot next month, but everything that he and his supporters have bled to put into law is. And all of the positive things that have been done and could be done are in jeopardy.

Are you really telling me that just because will.i.am didn't call up all of his celebrity buddies to make a new video for this midterm election, you don't have a beat you can dance to that can take your butt into a voting booth next month?

Do we really have to have theme music before we can get to work and save the country?

Just because the Black Eyed Peas aren't inspired to make this election entertaining, that's not an excuse, people!

Click the link in the title of this blog, find out who's on the ballot locally, and VOTE!

And email 20 other people you know and make sure they vote! And tell them to do the same.

Our country is literally dancing on the precipice.

Things I Didn't Know About Black America: Shirley Sherrod

So, I'm not going to get into the guts of this whole Shirley Sherrod/Andrew Breitbart fiasco.

But what I will say is, I think the sister has a serious point when she said she'd like to talk to the President about what he doesn't know about the history of Southern Black America.

One of my very good friends invited me to come along with him this summer to tour civil rights era sites throughout the south.  And, in my smugness, I said "dude, I'm Black from Maryland - my family LIVED the civil rights movement.  I don't need to be a tourist."

That said, Maryland is very much the line state.  There was terrible racism and race terrorism there, of course.  But it wasn't really the epicenter of Jim Crow like, say, Alabama, Mississippi, or Georgia during the 50's & '60's.

I don't really know.  And just because I'm Black doesn't mean I know by default.

And neither does President Obama, who, as far as I can tell, has yet to visit any of those Southern states since the election.

My Jewish friends have quite skillfully laid claim to the term "never again" in the face of the Holocaust, and I have yet to meet a young Jewish person who doesn't have some vivid living memory handed down to them by parents & grandparents & great grandparents about why they need to be both eternally vigilant and eternally better than the examples of their oppressors.

How did our history get lost, Black America?  Why aren't we talking to the Shirley Sherrods and Bill Cosbys and Dick Gregorys and Harry Belefontes and Ruby Dees and, yes, Clarence Thomases and Condolezza Rices, about how we always remember, always honor, and always excel despite the horrors?

Things I Didn't Know About Black America: Clarence Thomas

Thanks to my fellow netizen Brokenbeatnik, I came across the Washington Post article about the opinion Clarence Thomas wrote supporting the Supreme Court's decision to strike down Chicago's anti-handgun law as an unreasonable restriction of the 2nd Amendment.

Now, ordinarily, I'm not big on gun rights (after all, as my brother always says, nobody in the hood manufactures Uzis), and I'm really not crazy about Clarence Thomas, but I've gotta say, he really caught my eye with this opinion.  If you look at the nearly 20 page paper he wrote, you see that his vigorous defense of 2nd amendment rights is founded in his own first hand experience, I'm sure, of growing up in the Jim Crow South.

Cue Wikipedia again.

I didn't realize that Thomas' home town was founded by freed slaves, or that Gullah (or Geechee) was the spoken language in his home.  I didn't realize the man didn't live in a house with in-door plumbing until he was 7 years old.  I didn't know that he dropped out of seminary after hearing his classmates celebrating Martin Luther King's assassination.

If I did, I shouldn't have been surprised that, in his mind, the Federally protected right to own a gun, unabridged by a local or state authority, was the only think protecting him & his family (heck, even his whole home town) from organized, often local government sanctioned, white racist terrorism from the likes of the Ku Klux Klan and God knows what else.  Justice Thomas practically echoes Rob Brown's book "Negroes With Guns", a tome of self defense that became the cornerstone of Huey Newton's thinking in founding the Black Panther Party.  I have huge problems with many of Brother Clarence's votes, and I'll disagree with him with a lot of things, but I doubt I'll ever question the sincerity of his intentions again.

It reminds me of how I used to think of Condolezza Rice:  she grew up with the same four Black little girls who were murdered in the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing of 1963 that Spike Lee featured in his documentary "Four Little Girls".  I used to think, "How can she not be more super-pro-Black nationalist after having lived through the horrors of that era?"

But Thomas reminds me that, while many Black folks were radicalized by the internal terrorism of the late 50's and '60's, just as many were raised in households more aligned with Booker T. Washington's thinking than, say, my man W.E.B. DuBois.  That the best revenge was success & dignity in the face of the terror, and those children like Clarence Thomas or Condolezza Rice or Colin Powell owed it to the people who died to reach and strive as far as they could.  So many radicals who didn't have access to the opportunities they had ended up dead, incarcerated, or ostracized.

Huey Newton?  H. Rap Brown?  These are not stories with happy endings.

But are those the only choices?

One could argue that Clarence, Condolezza, & Colin and many others like them earned their success by turning their backs on the broader Black community.  Yes, they're all involved in charity and philanthropy, but when decisions were made in their midsts regarding economic policy, war policy, social policy, and the like that had a direct impact on African Americans at large, did they really do all that they could to protect their voiceless brothers and sisters?

I don't know.

Just like I don't know what sort of sacrifices they had to make in order to reach their positions.  Does their mere presence in those positions carry more weight than their actions while in those positions?

My generation came of age in the post-"Black is Beautiful" era.  We take our ethnic pride and abilities as a given.  But that has not always been the case.  Folks like Clarence and Ward Connerly and others carry the scars of de-legitimacy to this day.  And the memories of the horror probably never go away.

I find myself thinking a lot about "The Spook Who Sat By The Door" as I read about Clarence Thomas this week.

Just getting to the door has been so hard for so many.  But does simply sitting there make it easier for others to join you and/or walk through?  Or are you responsible for wedging it open, no matter the personal cost?