Archive for October, 2006

I don’t know, but it kind of makes you wonder, you know?

Lynne Cheney…. Lon Chaney…
Lynne Chaney… Lon Cheney…

I bet you didn’t know about this.

In early 1961, Ella Fitzgerald, the First Lady of Song herself, was at a party being given by some record executives from RCA in Los Angeles. Fitzgerald was under contract with Verve Records at the time, and didn’t know many of the people at the party. After mingling for an hour or so, she was getting ready to leave when she heard someone playing the piano and singing in another room. She didn’t recognize the song, but she immediately loved it.

As the story goes, Ella followed her ears and met the young man at the piano. He taught her the song, called “Wonderful World” and they sang it together. He of course knew Ella — he was a big fan — and pretty soon they were entertaining the whole party with jazz standards and some current popular songs.

The party ended up lasting all night. The man at the piano turned out to be none other than Sam Cooke, and the song that had introduced him to Ella was one he’d composed and recorded.

As it happened, Herb Alpert was at the party, and in addition to being a good friend of Fitzgerald’s he was one of the co-writers of “Wonderful World.” It was Alpert’s idea that Sam and Ella put an act together.

Everyone at the party applauded the idea, and it was decided that they’d put together a collection of songs, some of his, some of hers, and some that they felt lent themselves to the combination of their talents, rehearse for a week or two, and, just for fun, do a show or two together.

They did a show at the Roxy in LA with very limited advertising under the name “Sam and Ella” and were such a hit that the club’s owner asked them to stay for a week. For the next week, they sold out every show and brought the house down every night.

The decision was made for the two to do a tour of the US together. The plan was for Ella to perform for 45 minutes, followed by Sam for another 45, and then the two would come on stage together and do duets for as long as they felt like it. The tour was booked into some 50 cities over a three-month period, and was to start with an invitation-only dinner show at New York’s Rainbow Room on April 29, 1961.

The night of the kickoff show arrived after a whirlwind press tour. The performance was to be recorded and broadcast live on numerous radio stations. The invited guests — including some of the most famous entertainers in the country — were seated at 8:00 and served Waldorf salad, followed by chicken marsala. By 9:15, the tables had been cleared, the lights dimmed, and out came Fitzgerald and her quartet.

At the end of her set, Ella left the stage and Sam Cooke appeared to do his set with the same backup musicians. The crowd seemed very appreciative, but some 30 minutes into the set a few of the people started to leave, and the number continued to increase to the point where, by the end of Cooke’s set, nearly half the audience was gone.

At this point, Fitzgerald came out on stage to join Cooke (who was worried that his music had somehow been bad enough to thin out the crowd), the band started “Wonderful World,” and the audience applauded in recognition, but without much enthusiasm.

Fifteen minutes into the duet set, the last of the audience was gone. Fitzgerald was completely shocked, and Cooke (a very sensitive man indeed) was in tears, apparently blaming himself for the whole debacle.

As it turned out, the audience hadn’t walked out because of any problem with either of the two stars. The chicken marsala was undercooked, and nearly everyone in the crowd had taken sick. The singers were told of this the next morning, and they were asked to hold off the rest of the tour and perform again in New York to get things off to a proper start. But the damage had been done. Cooke, who was also a bit superstitious, refused to perform, insisting that it was going to happen again even if they never served chicken at one of their shows again. The tour was canceled, and that was the end of Sam and Ella. They never performed together again, and Cooke was killed in a bizarre shooting some three years later.

Dear Ghost of Colonel Sanders,
Those new KFC Famous Bowls™ are a brilliant idea!

You’ve got your powdered, dehydrated mashed potato-like product, week-old mushy steamed corn, crispy breading with chicken flavoring, brown goo and yellow and orange strips of dairyesque substance all together in a bowl!

And the bowl, now that’s where I see your fantastic vision. After people are done eating it, they’ve got a handy container to put it in when they send it back out.

Great job, fella.

Here’s why I didn’t get any work done today. Thanks, *fsk. Thanks a bunch.

Line Rider – beta by *fsk on deviant ART

He says it far more eloquently than I did.

No tags for this post.

So, now that the United States has dropped Habeas Corpus, what exactly are we supposed to do?

I remember my first visit to Paris (so far, my only one) in early 1985. Reagan had just been inaugurated for his second term. I was taken to a party being given by a guy from Tunisia. The crowd was pretty evenly mixed between French, North Africans, and American students. Two-thirds of the people I met (just guess which two-thirds) asked me something to the effect of “How could you allow Reagan to be in power for another four years?” Telling them I voted for the other guy gave them no satisfaction. It didn’t help me either.

At the time, I thought Reagan was about as bad as things could get in the US. I think it’s safe to say I was wrong.

So, forty or fifty years from now, when your grandchildren ask you what you did when an American president signed a law that took away the basic protection of people to a fair trial, what are you going to be able to tell them? I voted against him twice. I argue with his supporters. I write about how I feel about this president when I’m not writing about TV commercials that piss me off. Is that enough?

Luckily, I’m not going to have grandchildren to ask me. I do, however, have an open invitation to visit a couple of friends in Paris.

But that doesn’t matter. I don’t really need other people to ask me. I’m sitting here asking myself what I’ll have to do in order to avoid being utterly ashamed of the place where I was born.

Dear Bacardi Swimming Upstream Fish Dudes and Captain Morgan Pizza Delivery Ordering in Person Dudes,
Could you let me know how much of your respective beverages I need to drink in order to first stop seeing you as complete assholes, and then actually find you amusing?

I found this, oddly enough, on the Futurelab Marketing and Strategy blog. It’s a post by Danah Boyd, a doctoral candidate at the UC Berkeley School of Information. She posted it to her blog, and Futurelab (who are based in Belgium, I believe) picked it up and republished it. I think I’ll do the same.

When i used to bitch and moan in high school or college, my mother would often tell me to shush up and enjoy because “these are the best times of your life.” I used to snort at this comment in the same way that i used to roll my eyes whenever she started anything with “when i was your age…” or when she’d tell me that she understood. Yes, i was that pre-emo child who thought that no one could ever understand.

I imagined the future to be filled with opportunities. I counted the days until my 16th birthday when mobility would finally be mine! I anxiously awaited my 21st birthday so that i could feel legitimate without Photoshop and a printer. And i always thought that 25 was the last hurdle because then i could actually rent a car without paying an extraordinary fee. One of my main goals in growing older was the ability to access the world of scholars, politicians, press, businesspeople… i wanted entrance to the world of intellectuals who held so much power, who seemed so brilliant. All told, i haven’t done too badly. I’ve met so many people who traffic in knowledge, power, and fame. The problem is that they haven’t lived up to my fantasy of what they should be like.

As a girl, i genuinely believed that politicians had to be unbelievably brilliant. I thought that academic life was all about the pursuit of knowledge. I believed that the media was comprised of people who were determined to get truthful information to the masses regardless of whatever barriers. I believed that companies succeeded because they were the best. Although i never believed that people really started out on equal footing (it was clear to me from an early age that my friends of color got shafted and that i had to out boy the boys), i thought that meritocracy actually meant something. I truly underestimated the degree to which greed and self-interest control so much of society. Then again, i could never understand why people committed violent against against others unless they were sick. I failed to realize how unaware people are of their contribution to a broken system.

As my cynicism grows, i think of my grandmother. I used to always giggle about how she would turn off her hearing aid whenever the family started speaking badly against the church or against anything that she believed. My grandmother has an amazing ability to only see the positive side of things. I used to think that this was ridiculously anti-intellectual, but i’m beginning to appreciate her POV; regardless, her positivism has kept her alive for a very long time.

It’s election time in the States. I’ve been adamant that voting matters but i have to admit, i’m having a hard time really believing myself. I was listening to NPR discuss how the 2000 gerrymandering would effect this election and i started to cry. Recently, i met with a national politician whose views closely are aligned with mine. In our conversation, he exposed many of the concessions he has to make, actions he has to take because of how they look to his constituents not because they are best for his constituents. I know painfully well how people mis-interpret every word he says, every expression. He has to get elected based on impressions, not based on what’s really good for America. To say that DC is about political theater is an understatement. ::sigh::

A few weeks ago, i was talking with a media reporter about how she had to propose every story she wants to cover and if it’s not in the paper’s interest, they don’t cover it. She has to conform to her impression of their mandate. And then i opened up the New Yorker to see an ad for Ted Koppel on “The Price of Security” and i thought about how we no longer have the likes of Murrow and Cronkite, Koppel and Brokaw on our daily news. The correspondents are simply faces, not reporters. They must play by the norms of media organization. When i saw the wire report that Stewart/Colbert would not be running, i had to agree with Stewart: “Nothing says ‘I am ashamed of you, my government’ more than ‘Stewart/Colbert for 08′.” How is it that a news comedian is the only major reporter that is challenging the status quo when it comes to media? In many ways, i know the answer… freelance has killed reporting freedom. ::sigh::

At a benefit for Darfur this week, someone asked me if i would like to be introduced to Murdoch. I had actually been watching him and reading his lips for a half hour while trying to find my friend. I politely declined although i stood around while people i know talked to him. What could i say to him? Why did you do this to media? I know the answer… it makes economic sense. I mean, Fox News needed to cover the Foley scandal but it couldn’t do it in a way that would go after the Republicans so why not call Foley a Democrat, right? Then in my stewing, i started wondering why Murdoch was at a Darfur benefit. Did he really care or was it a business proposition? My questioning this made me sad. ::sigh::

In the last month, out of academic duty, i blind reviewed over 20 academic articles for various venues. For the first time in a review cycle, every article i was given was related to something that i was knowledgeable about; i knew all of the citations and in many cases, i had done similar work. I was horrified to find that three of those included danah-isms (weird fucked up/made up turns of phrases) without credit; i was also surprised to see one argument that followed the exact logic of one of my blog posts and another that had arguments that i’ve given during talks (complete with the same citations). I swallowed my pride and reminded myself that the reason that i engage publicly is because i want to get knowledge out there. Without publishing my material, i must not be surprised that others will do so instead and take credit. I couldn’t even bring myself to reference myself in the review because it would be so obviously from me. I tried to tell myself that maybe it was just coincidence. Even when i couldn’t convince myself of that, i tried to think of when a friend’s dad told her that whoever had stolen her car probably needed it more than she did; she could simply get another. And then, to my horror, i came into a situation where, for political purposes, i was not able to give credit in my own publication to someone who deserves credit. I still can’t figure out how to deal with that. But it has all made me realize that the incentives behind publications and the politics behind credit are so messed up that i feel embarrassed to be a part of that system. I know that i build arguments on the shoulders of giants and so much about publishing (academic or not) is about taking credit whenever possible (often to get grants/jobs). But still, it breaks my heart to see academia incentivized by external structures rather than a pursuit of knowledge and the desire to share it. ::sigh::

I shouldn’t have been surprised to see a marketing organization spin a story based on problematic data. I should’ve read it like i read every USA Today Poll. But it definitely hit me as i think about the polling that is happening for the election. There’s no transparency in method, no transparency in data, no ability to really get at the flaws. In the last election, people foolishly believed the polls so they didn’t vote because they thought it didn’t matter. This all pissed me off but then i crumpled when i found out why an organization might validate inaccurate data that they know is inaccurate: it makes them look good. ::sigh::

Businesspeople, academics, press, politicians… All have destroyed my utopian fantasy of what intellectual life is supposed to be about. People are driven by money, by fame, by power. Of course, many have good intentions and those beliefs and hopes often work as a check and balance. Unfortunately, the institutions that have taken over have no such moral qualms. Corporations need to make money for their stockholders. All other systems are becoming corporations or corporate-driven. Political structure requires politicians get elected… which requires money… which requires corporations. Academia survives on grant money… which requires government (which requires corporations) or corporations directly. Media, well media has already become a corporation.

Mom was right. Life was far more fun in high school and college before my mythical ideals were shattered. There, i could believe in the moral high ground. I never really believed that man is basically good (hell, i got kicked out of class in 9th grade for arguing against it), but i didn’t really get how crowds of good individuals could really go wrong. I guess i should’ve given how much i’ve argued that Milgram’s experiment is more about everyday life than Nazis. But still, i wanted to believe that something could be done. Back then, i had infinite energy to fight injustice. But honestly, now, i’m exhausted.

How did we get here? How do we turn it around? It’s so much easier to tap into people’s fears, greed, and ignorance than it is to help them do good even when it’s hard. I have to admit that i’m really tired of fighting and anomie is creeping in like a dark cloud. I just want to wake up tomorrow and see the world do good by itself.

Anyhow, i have so many other complex and confusing thoughts going through my head but i’ll spare you. I’ve babbled too long but i wanted to explain my absence and confusion these last couple of weeks. And to ask you to help me regain at least one of my fantastical views of intellectual life: that voting matters. Deadlines to register to vote are appearing in every state soon. Please register. Please vote. And please help me try to believe that collective action can do good in at least one way. I don’t know if it can and i admit that i’m as disillusioned as most folks. But i do want to try. Cuz really, i don’t think that i can stomach another stolen election. And maybe if we can turn this around, we can turn around all of the other aspects of society that are disintegrating before our eyes. We have to have some hope, no?

Dear Toyota,
If the commercial for your pickup truck involves having the Loch Ness Monster grab the truck, pull it underwater, then toss it up onto the land, you really don’t have to warn us that it’s a “fictionalization” that doesn’t really demonstrate the vehicle’s capabilities. It’s okay, we get it.

You might want to think about apologizing, though.

Back in the old, old days of the eye of hell, long before my time, was the so-called Golden Age of Television. Video tape hadn’t yet been invented, so all the shows were broadcast live, and the sponsors had a great deal of control over the content. Indeed, the sponsors’ names were part of the names of many of the shows: Kraft Television Theater, U.S. Steel Hour, Texaco Star Theater, The Ford Theater, Philco Television Playhouse, The Alcoa Hour, and Goodyear Television Playhouse, for example. On top of that, because everything was live, commercials were basically part of the program, in which the star of the show would talk about the wonders of the sponsor, or they’d slip it into the show in some other way. As an example, have a look at this clip from the Jack Benny Program with Humphrey Bogart to see how they subtly bring the sponsor into the sketch.

When I was a kid, efforts were made to make it clear to the audience that the advertisements were separate from the program. On children’s TV, we were clearly told, often in song, that “after these messages, we’ll be right back.” Of course, they eventually found a way around that by creating shows about toys, like the Transformers (Products in Disguise).

For the past five or ten years, while product placements became the norm in films, the eye of hell found new ways to slip sponsors in by having them sponsor elements of programs. Trump has his apprentices show their mettle by promoting certain products (which I’m sure are chosen strictly because they make good TV). Sports programs will slap a sponsor’s name onto the play of the game, the half time show, the pregame show, the postgame show, or anything else they can think of. Project Runway has the L’Oreal and Tresseme Hair and Makeup Room and the Macy’s Accessories Wall. I’ve complained about that elsewhere.

But those are all so-called “reality” programs. This week I saw some interesting developments on fictional shows, all three of them on NBC. On Heroes, Hiro and his friend are renting a car and Hiro is absolutely insistent that it must be a Nissan Versa. Ostensibly, this is because that’s the car they rent in the comic book that’s predicting his future, but does it actually name the car in the comic, or is Hiro just an expert at picking out the model of any car he sees? Keep in mind that Hiro is from Japan, where if the Versa is even sold, it probably goes by a different model name. And of course, there’s an ad about the car on the show’s home page, and a commercial or two for the car during the broadcast.

Then there’s 30 Rock, that oh-so-self-reflexive sitcom. Former SNL head writer Tina Fey is the star, head writer and producer of the show on which she plays the head writer of an SNL-esque show. Alec Baldwin is the General Electric marketing guy who becomes head of programming. His greatest accomplishment is an oven that uses “three kinds of heat”. He’s got a portrait of the oven in his office. Get it? Fey is commenting on what it’s like to work for a broadcast network that’s owned by an appliance company. Can these people possibly understand what it takes to make a successful show on the eye of hell? Can it be as simple as finding that “third kind of heat”? Pretty brave, don’t you think? She’s poking the owners right in the eye. Right?

Well, not so much. One of the commercials during the broadcast was for a GE oven that uses three kinds of heat. So what’s GE telling us here? Is it “See, we can laugh at ourselves too” or “Have your fun, but don’t ever forget who owns you.”?

Now, 30 Rock should not be confused with an earlier NBC program, Third Rock from the Sun, which starred John Lithgow, who has in the past year or two become the commercial spokesman for Campbell’s Soup. And coincidence of coincidences, the former Third Rock star follows 30 Rock with his own new show, Twenty Good Years. (Stop with the numbers in show names already!) I barely paid attention to the show’s premiere episode because after five minutes it was clear to me that I wouldn’t enjoy it nearly as much as the laugh track did, but I don’t think soup was mentioned. However, there were two commercials for Campbell’s during the show, one of which starred Lithgow.

In other words, we’re getting very close to back where we started from.