Future Students Threaten Balance of Universe

I was going through my photo rosters for spring semester and came across these two students, both of whom are registered for my "Writing About Art" class. Not knowing a thing about either one of them, it looks like they are probably complete opposites and will cancel each other out in a huge anti-matter explosion once they enter the classroom. I'm thinking of setting up some kind of betting pool to see which one will earn the highest grade and/or beat up the other one first.

The Past Is a Source of Knowledge

For the last few days, I've been rummaging through my 20+ year collection of Rolling Stone magazine as I prepare to abandon my print copies in favor of the new CD-ROM collection of the magazine. There is one issue (technically two, I guess, since it's a year-end double-issue) that hasn't held up very well and is an immediate candidate for the recylcling pile. That would be the 1982 Photo Yearbook issue, comprising issue number 385 & 386, with a publication date of December 23, 1982-January 6, 1983.


It's pretty much a vacation issue for the magazine's staff, comprised largely of photos of musicians, celebrities, and newsmakers from the last 12 months. There is a blistering article by William Greider titled "What Reagan has done to America" and a review of the year's 40 best albums (a list that includes Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska, The Clash's Combat Rock, and John Cougar's American Fool (!)). There's also a "Final Tributes" section that acknowledges the deaths of prominent musicians, celebrities, and newsmakers from the last 12 months. (I hope everyone at the magazine had a nice long vacation.) The first page of the section is devoted to John Belushi and contains the lyrics of a song ("That Lonesome Road") performed at his funeral by James Taylor and Don Grolnick (a song that has since been covered by the Dixie Chicks, among others).


Most of the rest of the magazine is taken up by amusing blurbs about the year's events, which become all the more amusing with 25 years of hindsight. A few highlights:


Idaho rep Larry Craig bludgeons rumor to death
Idaho representative Larry Craig called a press conference to announce that he was not--repeat, not--one of the congressmen in the Capitol Hill gay sex scandal.


from the Photos section:


It was business as usual as the Who toured the U.S. for what may be the last time: Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend quarreled, huge crowds turned out to see them, and they earned millions of dollars.


and I found this item personally relevant and somewhat gratifying:


Cliff-hanger Notes

Graduate student Donald M. Judson was disciplined by officials of Ohio's Bowling Green University after he pulled out a pistol and played Russian roulette in front of the creative-writing class he was teaching. "I was trying to demonstrate to the students the intensity of an experience," Judson explained, adding that one student told him it was "the only interesting thing that happened to her in four years at the university."


Judson is now in his late 50's and has a rather colorful past, as this article explains. Nice to see that he made it this far.

Oh, Look! A Rant! About Comics!

I recently received this purchasing suggestion from Amazon:

Chazzbot,
We've noticed that customers who have purchased or rated books by Bill Watterson have also purchased Garfield Fat Cat 3-Pack: A Triple Helping of Classic GARFIELD Humor Vol 3 by Jim Davis.

I ask you, in all seriousness, would any self-respecting fan of Calvin & Hobbes actually purchase a Garfield collection? I want Amazon to tell me who these people are so I can slowly gouge out their eyes.

This is probably the exact kind of thinking that prompted Watterson to quit comic strips in the first place! Go on. Read any single strip of Calvin & Hobbes, and I guarantee you that it will contain more imagination, wit, and creativity than pretty much the entire collected works of "Jim Davis" (now best recognized as a corporate entity rather than a "creator").

Not to mention that Garfield has been licensed and merchandized to the extent that the franchise (It's no longer appropriate or logical to call Garfield a "character". Characters, by definition, represent life, and there has not been any life in that tired strip for years.) represents basically everything that Watterson strived to avoid--over-commercialization and the loss of appreciation for the strip from which the character(s) originated. Check out the official website of "Garfield and Friends" if you don't believe me. There isn't a comic strip in sight, but there are cartoon representations of the legal and licensing entities for the property. And flashing exhortations to "pick a product." 'Nuff said.

On the day Calvin & Hobbes left the comic pages, I knew that particular section of the newspaper would never again be as engaging or charming or poignant. On the day Garfield leaves the comic pages, an event only feasible if the hordes of lawyers and commercial interestes protecting the franchise are simultaneously decapitated (and preferably maimed), I will cheer.

In short, Garfield represents everything that is wrong with modern comic strips. Calvin & Hobbes, on the other hand, represents everything comic strips are capable of, everything they could be if entities like Garfield, or Blondie, or Beetle Bailey, or B.C., or any of the other humourless, soul-sucking franchises that clutter the funny pages didn't exist. Remember the last time you laughed at one of those comic strips? Me neither, bub.

I am generally one of those people who become highly annoyed whenever I see one of those Calvin decals on some truck or SUV (and I have only seen them on trucks or SUVs) that depict Calvin pissing on a Ford logo, or a team logo, or, my favorite, kneeling in prayer. I mean, seriously, what the fuck? (It should be noted that Bill Watterson has never licensed any Calvin or Hobbes merchandise.) But I would be willing to risk a potential lawsuit and possibly even drive a truck if I could find a decal of Calvin pissing on Garfield's fat face.

Sorry, just had to get that off my chest. Fucking cat.

Remember, Remember

At the school were I teach, there is a large rock in front of the library which is often painted over with announcements about activities. Today, November 5, the library rock looked like this:

Some of you may recognize this as the inverted anarchy symbol used by V in the graphic novel (and film, if you count that) V for Vendetta. By a strange coincidence, I have been using V for Vendetta as a text in my class on terrorism. In fact, this was the last text we read in the class. (We are now reading Ian McEwan's novel, Saturday.)

The character V wears a Guy Fawkes mask as he works to overthrow the fascist government that has taken over England. The novel, written in the late 1980s, is set in 1997 and 1998, but still works as a chilling projection of the power and influence of fascist politics on a complacent citizenry (like, say, the United States in the early 21st-century). Since V spends a lot of his time in the novel accomplishing what Guy Fawkes could not (i.e. blowing up the Houses of Parliament), it is only fitting the first chapter of the novel opens on November 5, the historic anniversary of Fawkes' failed attempt.

Whoever painted the library rock clearly didn't forget the significance of the date:

Naturally, I was delighted to see any sign of progressive, pro-active politics at my little university in Southern Utah. I was equally delighted that this act of graffitti occurred in conjunction with my use of the novel in two of my classes this semester. Now, does this mean I am giving myself credit for inspiring this mystery student or students? I suppose I cannot go quite that far, since the film exists and I guess it's possible that a student on campus could have been inspired by that thin adaptation of the novel to paint a rock in front of the library that I walk by every morning.

But that wouldn't explain the mysterious "V" symbols that appeared in my classroom today, a class that has not read the novel. Clearly, something is up. I like to think that I have not only inspired one or more students to buck the system, but that I am instilling dangerous thoughts of anarchy and political subversion into a culture that is sorely in need of alternative viewpoints. As V him/herself said, "That is their task: to rule themselves; their lives and loves and land. With this achieved, then let them talk of salvation. Without it, they are surely carrion."

By turn of century they'll know their fate: either a rose midst rubble blooms, or else has bloomed too late.

Music Is My Hot, Hot Sex

I'm pleased to see this band getting some more attention now that this song is appearing in those ubiquitous iPod Touch ads. The band is CSS, and Chazzbot heartily recommends their album, "Cansei de Ser Sexy."

This song enters the official playlist of great songs about music (or great music about songs, if you prefer). You could easily sandwich this between the O'Jay's "I Love Music" and Sister Sledge's "Lost in Music".

Fuck, I miss having a radio show.

Recently Viewed

Michael Clayton ***
Stanley Kubrick: A Life in Pictures ****
The Blues: Warming by the Devil's Fire **

Michael Clayton has an involving story and a great cast. It didn't strike me as a very cinematic film, which is the main reason I give it only three stars. It will come across just as well on your television as it will on the big screen. Well worth a rental, though. One word of warning: the male character who disrobes in the film is not played by George Clooney.

The Stanley Kubrick doc serves as a useful introduction to the director's oeuvre, and offers some particularly helpful insights into Eyes Wide Shut, probably the least understood film of all time. The doc also contains a lot of fascinating behind-the-scenes shots from most of Kubrick's films, including some brief samples of his on-the-set demeanor. (Apparently, The Shining was a stressful shoot for everyone.) This doc is included with the recently released DVD set of Kubrick's films.

I don't know how anyone, particularly a noted African-American director like Charles Burnett, could make a boring film about blues music, but Burnett's film is only livened by his choice of vintage blues clips which, thankfully, take up almost half of the running time.