Where I work.
Other Broadcasting System (OBS)
Gwynnie Paltrow scans shortwave? Tell me more.
I am very satisfied with my recent, $160 purchase, the Tecsun, PL-880, AM/FM/SW portable radio. For $14, I also bought a Sangean, Portable Shortwave Antenna, the ANT 60. This is clipped to the telescoping antenna, and is an inexpensive upgrade. Since I sound like I’m promoting this shortwave radio (but have never received a dime from them), I feel I should offer a few tips for those of us playing the Other Letter Home Game, having actually bought the Tecsun PL-880.
- I picked up some interesting chit-chat from Chicago on the ham radio band of my scanner (near 440 megahertz). They have been getting the brunt of the polar vortex, and it’s actually been colder there than at the North Pole, or even on the planet Mars. Anyhow, this Chicagoan said the deep chill is over there. So how cold is it there now? It’s a balmy 12° Fahrenheit. Then what qualified as the deep chill in Chicago? He said negative double digits, or below minus 10° Fahrenheit...
You have to look at the plus side. When snow is this new, dry, and puffy, what they do there is remove the snow with a leaf blower... 2/01/19.
- Gwynnie and I were just having this discussion over Seafood Risotto at Le Place in Malibu’s Historic District. The Tecsun that I enthusiastically plug has a toggle switch on the left that has three positions: DX (aka long distance); Normal; and Local. If you’re scanning the Short Wave band, be sure to set this toggle for DX, it will make a significant difference in reception... In fact, do this for DX’ing AM stations at night like 1100 AM, WTAM, in Cleveland, Ohio, and 900 AM, CHML, in Hamilton, Ontario.
- Gwynnie and me were listening to the short wave radio, and we came across Radio Viet Nam (her husband, the enviable TV producer, Chadley Doolittle, was in Moscow, away on business). The Vietnamese must have repeated the phrase, “young intellectuals,” over half a dozen times. This is what they aspire towards, being knowledgeable, while their anti-intellectual, American counterparts mostly want to get rich quick selling junk, be it stocks, over-priced, luxury sports cars, or real estate (like Trump). Gwynnie mused: “I wouldn't be surprised if one day they get back at us for the Vietnamese War. I mean can you imagine strafing machine gun bullets over Malibu, and napalming the Brentwood Country Mart. I mean, can you imagine?” I let this sink in for a minute, and said, “Yes, Gwynnie, I can, I can imagine.”
- The Amateur Band has interesting broadcasts a scanner can receive. Ham radio operators set up chat rooms where they talk about any and all topics, although they do tend to favor tech talk. On Long Island, I’ve heard ham operators from as far away as Las Vegas, and even Hawaii. Near noon is a good time to receive these broadcasts. The amateur band covers several active, smaller bands, especially around 440 megahertz, although it goes from 50 MHZ up to 1,200 MHZ (FM stereo reception for, say, music, is 88.1 MHZ to 107.9 MHZ).
- Here are some quick pointers on the Radio Shack PRO-97. This model has been discontinued for several years, but this explains key features of any scanner. Use the SRCH function to find stations to preset (like car radio presets). Press F, then ENT twice, to store any channel you receive. Next, press SCAN to cycle through the presets you just created. On the PRO-97, F, then 7, sets up an automatic five second delay for your searches until they look for the next broadcasting channel. L/OUT locks out channels that have high-pitched “dog whistles.” I would use this sparingly, because later these may broadcast people’s voices, but you just locked them out.
- You may be wondering if the scanner has any utility outside of researching a career in being a first responder. Well, if you are a writer, you get glimpses of the lives of others, albeit possibly those in cardiac arrest. Plus, just recently, a plane crash landed in the Atlantic Ocean, off of Quogue on Long Island. I heard the Coast Guard report as the rescue began. If I was a ambulance chaser, that is, an attorney first at the scene of accidents to acquire new clients, the scanner would be very invaluable.
- Automatic gain control (AGC), otherwise known as automatic volume control (AVC), is a feature in more expensive radio equipment. This stabilizes volume so it remains steady regardless of the signal strength of the transmitting radio station. With this, there isn’t a need to constantly adjust the volume control for varying transmitter wattage, and transmitter distance from your radio.
- Listening to the service band scanner, you may notice that the police sound stressed, while the airline pilots talking to the control towers sound calm. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
- My discontinued, Radio Shack PRO-97 Scanner, is not as intuitively operated as my more recent, Tecsun PL-880 Shortwave Radio, but I have noticed that if you make it a kind of goal to figure out how to work and understand at least parts of it, you’ll reap dividends. In other words, with practice, you’ll have no need to put it out with the trash.
- While the Tecsun PL-880 has an impressive range of features, it will not receive police and fire, airplane, or weather broadcasters. For this, you’ll need a scanner, either handheld or base station. Be forewarned, the emergency bands can be very interesting, but they can also get depressing. Listening to the police band is a heart attack, you wonder how cops can deal with endless amounts of, what to me is, uncomfortable levels of stress. Firefighters also deal with lots of stress, but their work seems to revolve less around resolving conflict that may not be resolvable. Maybe it is habituated, or maybe the standard, twenty-year stint is all they can stomach. Anyhow, if you get tired of listening to first responders, listen to the weather band instead.
- I just upgraded my ancient, mobile scanner, Radio Shack Pro-97, 20-527 with a Diamond RH77CA HT/Scanner Antenna (for BNC, not SMA connecting jack). It was an affordable $26 upgrade. It did make a difference. Listening for just five minutes there was: a dog bite; an overdose, I’m guessing opioids; and a drowning — in five minutes. The weather-only broadcast had better reception at least. If you feel you’re cut out for police work, you may want to listen to police bands on a scanner first. Assuming you have a very strong stomach, the pay, on Long Island at least, is excellent. You can make a difference, assuming you: are not a racist; are competent; strive for excellence; and care about people. On Long Island, the reputation has been protect and serve, not oppress and kill. Elsewhere, many seem completely incompetent.
- I am not familiar with the scanners being offered today. I have a Radio Shack model from over ten years ago, but they have shrunk down several of their product lines in response to cyclical economic conditions. Uniden does sell scanners, and I am very satisfied with their surveillance cameras. I have yet to make a dime putting in good words for products I like, and as the World’s lone, non-believer in currency, I have no intention to do so.
- To maximize any radio’s reception potential of AM and FM, tilt the telescoping antenna at an angle, especially in the direction of most of the radio stations you want to receive (to receive the shortwave band, point the antenna straight up and down). I could not pick up a station with an otherwise strong signal, until I tried this. You will need to experiment, but a vertical antenna is likely not optimal.
- I just bought a Tecsun AN-200, Tunable Medium Wave Loop Antenna. This allowed me to get AM reception where I couldn’t before, in a part of the house that has inside walls on three sides. Inside walls block radio waves to a greater degree because the signal has to get through outside walls as well. I picked up AM stations in this room only after the antenna was tuned with its knob. Connecting the antenna and radio via a cable and two 1/8" jacks wouldn’t produce a signal. What did though was a suggested wireless setup, just by placing the antenna near the radio, I got modest reception — I picked up several stations I couldn’t get earlier. I have no idea why that would be effective, but here it works. Maybe it is collecting, or focusing, a electromagnetic wave, radio energy pool.
- Tecsun is a Chinese company. For those knowledgeable about Chinese hardware, and circuit board designing, this is a plus. For those knowing of human rights abuses there, it would be a minus. To me, I’m supporting poor people, because by our standards, everyone there lives in overpopulated poverty. So depending on how political you want to make your consumer decision, will decide how much “Made in China” influences your purchase.
- Different rooms in your house will have different levels of radio reception. In my bedroom, I cannot receive AM stations, but in the kitchen, less enclosed on all sides by other rooms, I can. Experiment with where you place the receiver — you can even experiment with the radio while the power is on.
- The longer the whip antenna is, the better is the reception. This is the general rule. (What does a whip antenna look like, like a whip?)
- In terms of reception, it can really pay off to experiment with antenna position, and by adjusting all the settings (especially after you read up on what they do). The only damage one can do is with water and lightning strikes. Or deleting a carefully compiled list of presets en masse, which is difficult to do anyway, and at least initially, you’ll probably be resetting presets with every session.
- This hack makes a huge difference in shortwave reception. Instead of having the antenna in a room, set it up in the attic, or what would be much, much simpler, bring your rig outside. The PL-880 has an extra, simple wire antenna which can be draped via clip from the radio to a railing, or any similar stationary fixture. This antenna line can also be fed out of a window but that won’t work for many people. So enjoy the good weather, and the great reception.
- The World Radio TV Handbook has infinite broadcaster detail including: broadcast frequency, transmitter strength, and location of broadcasters’ offices, as well as supplementary articles. Amazon.com has it for sale, and it should be available for reserve from the library, or they will order a copy for you (unless you are in the South where they do not support education, but they do support gun play — and all males are named either Jeb, Jeremiah, or Bubba).
- The time listening greatly effects reception. Stations in the 6MHz band, at least at night, get the best reception. Above 13MHZ to 27MHz is best received during daytime, beneath 13MHz to 2MHz is for nighttime listening. Nighttime in general is a better bet, you’ll pick up more stations then. Near sunrise and sunset get especially good reception.
- Try to be sure that the antenna is reasonably taut, untouched and is as straight as possible without line kinks. Minor tweaks of your antenna setup, can make significant improvements in reception.
- Okay, static is the issue with shortwave reception (FM is crystal clear for most Long Island broadcasters). Winter is the best listening, summer might be the weakest for you. One day you might pick up a station from Maine, or much further, very clearly. Other days, static limits listening.
- For shortwave reception, toggle treble off and bass bias on. This dampens a good deal of the static.
- I wasn’t getting the bands below 6Mhz before I moved the antenna wire off of a speaker. The outside antenna is the easiest reception fix, it can have the potential to clear up the static of the entire shortwave band.
- This radio can pick up shortwave, long wave, AM (amplitude modulation), FM (frequency modulation), and single side band (upper and lower, the sine wave of radio transmission is split in two, down the middle).
AM 540 to 1600KHz
SW 2300 to 26100KHz, or stated equivalently, 2.3 to 26.1MHz
FM 88 to 108MHz
(MHz is mega hertz, mega cycles, or a million cycles per second; KHz is kilo hertz, kilo cycles, or a thousand cycles per second. Cycles represent one wave of audio information in analog, non-digital form.)
- 6020KHz is Radio China, where you can brush up on your Chinese language skills for your next business trip to Beijing. 6000KHz is Radio Havana, which America has been attempted to starve out for decades, but President Obama opened relations, and which Trump wants to close down again. 7490KHz is WBCQ from Monticello, Maine. They have a wide variety of programming. Shortwave broadcasters are not typically transmitting 24/7, so I run the scan function every time I begin a session (the manual explains necessary details clearly).
- All the shortwave Christian programming will on face value make you cringe, but it’s also a fascinating look at how preachers manipulate their flock with fear, guilt, hate, and the paltriest of hopes, to get donations from the desperate.
- Shortwave is not regulated as tightly as the mass media. There are cults and all manner of strangeness. I would make sure to not give them a dime, or get hooked on belief systems that are alien. The risk is really negligible, but it exists.
- Until you find stations you like, and you’ve tweaked your antenna position, there can definitely be static.
- If this all sounds harrowing, there is Software-Defined Radio (SDR) receivers connected to the Internet. Here is a list, and a second list of airwave broadcast radio, rebroadcast across the cabled Internet.
- Battery life, on the USB-recharged Tecsun, is surprisingly long, much longer than what I get on my iPod.
- Battery-powered radios such as the PL-880 can be kept on during lightning storms without fear of overloading circuits from a strike. That said, if you have a permanent outdoor antenna, you need to install a small, inexpensive device known as a lightning arrestor at one end.
- The payoff here is: Receiving broadcasts from those who will never get airtime over standard mass media. Receiving out-of-State stations, even European and Asian ones also makes this hobby worthwhile. Detective work might be required to determine the station’s nation of origin, which might be detected with foreign language skills (and the patter in another language also serves as a kind of Muzak).
- You want to know if Gwynnie Paltrow really scans the shortwave band? Well, that’s what she told me she does.
Grateful for the Dead
Jerry Garcia explaining the success of his band, the Grateful Dead: “We’re like licorice. Not everyone likes licorice but the people who like licorice really like licorice.”
This tape from the Berkeley Community Theater on August the 21st in 1972 is crystal clear, and the band is still very sharp. The only part missing is staples from Wake of the Flood, Blues for Allah, From the Mars Hotel, and Terrapin Station. Fifteen years later, and the cohesiveness and sound of the band suffers from Jerry’s succumbing to Persian heroin addiction. The early shows were when the Dead earned their reputation for clear seven-part harmonies, the later ones they could coast on their reputation if they felt like it. (If you have Winamp installed, stream the play list with the “VBR” link on the right. Then save, download, and in Winamp, click View > Visualizations.)
You’ll like this one. It’s from Roosevelt Stadium in Jersey City, New Jersey on August the Sixth in 1974. Phil Lesh can be heard clearly on bass, oftentimes the bass doesn’t make it past the mixing board. Pigpen’s tenure was unceremoniously over and done prior, except for Keith Godchaux’ exit in a car accident, this is the final roster of the Dead. Jerry is in fine form, and Bob provides his patented theater of the absurd intro (“the weather report said no rain today, and that was’t the only thing in the news. [Set begins]...”) This is a pop-free quality recording, and it’s for, well, whuddya know? It’s free.
This week, we have yet another selection from the Dead Ensemble. Widely known among aficionados as the “Closing of the Winterland” show, the intro includes drug references, so if you are allergic, please avoid partaking. The wish of rhythm guitarist, Robert Weir, for a “Merry Christmas for all,” needs to be understood in context of a well-established, Pagan celebration which only the Grateful Dead celebrated on New Year’s Eve. For those interested, the Winterland Arena has been paved into a parking lot, or some such...
Here is a concert for which to be grateful, the Boston Garden show of May the Seventh in 1977. The sound quality is uncompromised, and the number of listens is over 600,000 — word got out about this one. (If you’re running the visualizations in Winamp — by clicking the Stream play list ( VBR ) link — then please excuse the heathen iconography, the crucifixes. A graphic artist got mixed up with the wrong crowd, with Jesus the Christ. It’s sad, I know.)
The next day’s show at Cornell, also part of the Holy Trinity of Dead perfection, is reputed to be the best Grateful Dead concert ever. I heard the Cornell show, and I was left wondering why the Boston Garden show wasn’t considered the better one of the two.
Was I in the wrong frame of mind for the Cornell show? Let me put it this way: Would the Dead go out of their way to give their all for the Boston Garden crowd, or would they play their absolute best for Ivy Leaguers, future captains of industry, and future Senators? Think about that — for a second.
February the Fourteenth of 1970 Fillmore East show, had these food groups in play: The Fillmore Venue, before drugs took their toll on Jerry et al, and much longer sets than late Eighties. Deadheads had a terrible reputation, but to appreciate the longer phrasing and intricate harmonies required avid listeners to be more intelligent by far than those just bopping around on American Bandstand to Top Forty.
That said, did the Grateful Dead get less adventurous, less hungry for greatness, as well as more conservative, and more commercial with later, cult success? Did their endless touring, more than any other band back then, burn them out. Even by today’s standards the Dead logged the most miles, except for Taylor Swift, who tours all year, every year. By the way, Ms. Swift’s lives on the band’s tour bus, this is her moving home address.
Remember, Deadheads, that most will never be treated to Jerry Garcia’s guitar licks, or their seven-part harmonies (tap out to hear how this is framed), but here is an archived gem from New Year’s Eve, Cow Palace concert from 1976 (near San Fran). The Seventies was their strongest as a band, Jerry wasn’t weakening from drugs just yet...
This is from 1973, a prolific year for the Dead. It’s their New Year’s Eve show, from San Francisco’s Winterland, where they held court and home field advantage.
From Nashville, Tennessee, and the cradle of bluegrass, which was a major musical influence of Jerry Garcia, here is the December the Sixteenth of 1978 concert. Here are two more of his with a strong Bluegrass imprint: Friend of the Devil, and Old and in the Way.
If you’re sick and tired by now of being force-fed Zeppelin — and who isn’t? — catch the KPFA, Dead to the World couple of hours, Wednesdays, 11PM to 1AM EDT. The Grateful Dead Lives, and not just in Dead Reckoning, the Dead play list that took over forty years to assemble.
The Grateful Dead sound was a product of three guitarists, two drummers (unknown to any other band), the female backup vocalist, and the keyboardist. Phil Lesh played the bass in the “Phil Zone” onstage; Jerry Garcia was lead guitar, the Dead was said to be his band; and Bob Weir was on rhythm guitar singing the tracks Jerry wasn’t. Donna Godchaux does the great work on Scarlet Begonias; Keith Godchaux was keyboards until he died in a car accident in 1980; and Mickey Hart and Billy Kreutzman worked the drum kits. What also set the Dead apart was they had an in-house lyricist, Robert Hunter, and to a lesser extent, John Perry Barlow.
This many band members made for a very rich, complex sound, where multiple harmonies could be explored, ones worth multiple listens to pick up what wasn’t on first blush. The Dead, along with Jerry’s solo project, the Jerry Garcia Band, played almost any type of music: blues, bluegrass, soul (yes, soul), rock, acid rock, they covered it all.
The Dead had an unusually deep catalog, which made sense because Deadheads were following them around the country. Without a continually updated set list, Deadheads would have been extremely disappointed, unruly disappointed (Dead ’80, at the Nassau Coliseum, an eager — maybe over-eager? — fan lifted a police barricade and put it through a Coliseum’s 15-foot-tall, sheet glass window. One way to get in to see the Dead, but not a way that won’t get you locked up.)
In Phil’s book, Searching for the Sound, My Life with the Grateful Dead, he said the huge, Dead entourage proved too much for Jerry to keep going, and he eventually buckled under the strain, and killed himself with consumption, especially via Persian heroin and being overweight.
Most rock and roll guitars can sound abrasive. Jerry Garcia’s custom-built guitars, variously named “Rosebud,” “Tiger,” and “Wolf” had a more balanced tone, one not so grating on the ear. This may be a wild guess, but I’d say near the end, when they had to practically cart Jerry on-stage because of his heroin addiction, he’d want a sound full of reverb (echo), which didn’t challenge him so much musically.
Late in her career, Joni Mitchell did something similar with reverb, but simply because she was getting older, and complicated musical passages must have become too much for her to remember. She never did heavy drugs. From what I’ve read, drugs were never her thing. Joni was a wicked chain smoker of tobacco though, and this is said to have shortened her illustrious career.
(Am I professionally qualified to make these judgments about music? No, I’m not, but I’ve listened to and judged plenty of music over the years, and this makes perfect sense to me.)
The Book Report for the Fourteenth of February Grateful Dead Concert in 1970 at the Fillmore East follows (the show itself was first heard on Wednesday’s KPFA Dead to the World, on 2-14-18 at 11PM EST). This set passes the clean listening test (as improvisational jams, and their music didn’t always). If you think it’s noise, you’re not picking up the harmonies between the vocals and instruments (tapping the beat clarifies matters). China Cat Sunflower, I Know you, Rider, and Uncle John’s Band remained staples much later in their careers.
Then without further intro, here’s the notes, the happy recap of a show Other Letter first heard on Pacifica, KPFA, Radio of the Revolution. We’re camping in northern New England by New Hampshire’s White Mountains on the Appalachian Trail, and this is what’s streaming out of the cassette. Early Dead wasn’t slick but some might say crisper, sharper. Just seems more clearly articulated. Acoustic Dead is very unusual later in their careers. Pigpen led several songs in this set. This is 1970, in three years he was gone — drank himself to death.
Bob Weir heard here, but surprisingly Jerry wasn’t front and center in this set. Garcia arrives, he’s backup vocals for parts. In his autobiography, Searching for the Sound, Phil Lesh, their bassist, said it was Jerry’s band. He was always the front man. At least musically he was, because they had a dedicated lyricist in Robert Hunter. Early Jerry doesn’t sound like later Jerry. Seems more in command at this point, as though he is able to do more with his voice.
Bob Weir can seem more labored than Garcia. Jerry seems aiming more for carefree than heavy and controlled as he might later. This sounds strangely folksy. Did the pull of commercialism and exclusivity give them a much harder edge? Still, they sound a bit like Hot Tuna here. Nicely harmonized if a bit loud, especially if you are older. Do they jam for too long? Do they get to the grating end of the jam spectrum? They still have ideas or approaches. Seems late in their career they didn’t care as much how they sounded. They were the behemoth Grateful Dead. You are privileged to be in the same auditorium. Or at minimum, did they lose some of the intimacy they had with their fans?
Hopefully a few of us will remember this as the day you heard some great vintage music on KPFA instead of the day of the Valentine’s Day Massacre, one which Washington still refuses to do anything to stop from happening over and over and over again. Repeal the Second Amendment. Include a gun buyback. It’s the only hope America has left. It’s the one and only guaranteed solution. Americans must have a sweet spot for kids in body bags.
If you’re an Other Deadhead, this concert may fit the bill. It’s post-Pigpen (don’t ask why), 1973 (for my money, I’d say bank on ’73 or ’77), and San Francisco’s Winterland (where they always had home field advantage, and fans fully-versed in their work). That should cover the major food groups. The Dead are very sharp here, no painfully long, harmony-lacking, time-filling solos. If you would like a drug-like experience without any loss of sanity or brain cells, watch the Winamp visualizations (save and open download). Winamp instructions here, or go traditional. 10/28/17.
The Grateful Dead played a concert on the Seventh of October, in 1980, at the more intimate Warfield Theater in San Francisco. Not many, if any, GD sets on Archive.org get a 20,000-plus listener count like this one does. The set list at this concert is entirely different than most of their other shows from then, or anytime else. At minimum, this is yet another new direction of the Dead. This sounds like their private reserve for the hometown fans. This concert was before Jerry Garcia, their front man, had his chops severely compromised by a lifetime of heavy drug use. 4/29/17.
It’s Still on your Radio Dial
WHLI, 1100 AM on Long Island, plays circa Seventies classics that put today’s noisy rappers, and overpromoted acts, to shame. This is carefully curated, I mean they had forty plus years to get it right. These are the “hits of a lifetime,” but is this an undeservedly dying, radio format? They feature all the classic love songs.
(Tunein also has a mobile version available in Apple’s App Store, and perhaps an Android version if anyone still bothers patronizing Google.)
At sunset, WHLI shuts off its over-the-airwaves, broadcasting transmitter, and Newsradio WTAM 1100 — Cleveland’s Newsradio, is heard at 1100 khz instead (on Long Island and environs, that is). Yet, WHLI 1100AM music is still available online, 24/7.
If you live on Long Island, there’s a great station with singularly programmed music you have never heard. It is the very first slot on your FM dial, WXBA, 88.1. They play the best classic Sixties, and Seventies music, and anything else worth playing . Their music selection policy seems to be, if it used to have a huge audience, it still does.
Most surprisingly, it is produced by Brentwood High School, except the play list is anything but amateur (Brentwood High School is one of the largest, if not the largest in New York State). My take is that it is an upgraded carryover, including the vinyl album collection, from the now defunct, vintage 103.1, WBZO, of nearby Bay Shore. As of 1/03/18, there is not an Internet simulcast for WXBA to generate worldwide broadcasts. I would imagine that’s because of prohibitively-expensive, royalty structures, or just as costly streaming, computer servers.
Get the Radio UK app at Apple’s App Store, or Google Android’s Code Depot. This offers streaming radio from around the British Isles featuring, but not limited to: Heart 80s, Absolute Radio 70s, Virgin Radio, and Radio Jackie. If they ask for your zip code (and I doubt that they will), your zip code is WC2H 7LA (or anything similar). Using a British postal code clears national copyright hurdles. In other words, they don’t want Americans to know what they’re missing... (Britain is five hours later than the East Coast of the U.S., and overnights may or may not have weak programming because most are asleep there...)
Radio Jackie may be the best of the lot, but when we listen in the evening in the Northeastern United States, it is smack dab in the middle of the graveyard shift in Great Britain. I do not envy the deejay trying to get himself through that time slot while never getting seriously cranky, or even unpleasant at all.
I finally splurged and bought the Radio UK app for $2.99. I have to say, it’s been worth every last penny. I cannot remember $2.99 better spent. Pop-ups are no more, endless taps to get back to the navigable screen are a thing of the past. I could hardly be more pleased now that my listening experience has been completely transformed, where once I struggled daily with a balky iPod, I have now found serenity not only here in...
If you’ve gotten sick and tired of hearing Sinatra croon Jesus, You are One Hep-Cat, Happy Birthday!, the Other Letter has the antidote: WSHU, 91.3 in Western Suffolk, Long Island. They even have broadcast repeaters to the Tri-State area, and parts of New England, as well as streaming on the Internet to anywhere on Earth They play classic Classical music from 9AM to 4PM, and 8PM to 5AM. Clear your head without any, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph Singers Sing: Manger Mayhem. 12/20/17.
Here is great news, unless you work at I Heart Radio (in which case it’s even better news), I Heart Radio is going into Chapter 11 Bankruptcy. No more Led Zeppelin round the clock programmed by people who do not understand music. But as Neil Young said, “My, my, hey, hey, rock and roll is here to stay” — except on their network. Because on I Heart Radio’s ultra conservative, headlong into commercialism format, you would never hear Neil Young B-sides while listening to I Hurt Radio’s, New York, classic rock flagship, Q1043.
Youtube is not the only source for music, online or otherwise. There is still plenty of broadcast radio programming available if you know where to look — and that would be here (and here on Other Letter’s Radio Page).
The American radio spectrum (at least for White people) goes from a very Pop Forty (often New Wave and 80s) orientation to a rock format. The rock stations tend to go for music esoterica, and they can suggest they are cooler than you will ever be, to the point of sounding unnatural. The Pop format can get corny, but they ultimately strive to be down to earth. The Pop format may have more of a problem with repetitive song selections although they tend to aim for a more relaxing, not so stimulating sound.
Maybe they need to sound bigger than life, but the rock end of the spectrum can sound aloof, while some of the copy of both formats can border on the ridiculous. Both have a long list of artist factoids, although rock formats tend to emphasize this more.
It’s grating listening to a rock station, like I Heart Radio’s Q1043 in New York, when it favors noisy Led Zeppelin, at the expense of playing, say, the Who, the Grateful Dead, Pink Floyd, Yes, the Allman Brothers, or Genesis. Could there be any other reason for this continual, promotional favoritism of this one unremarkable band besides payola? If they are paid promotional consideration to continually showcase inferior music like Led Zeppelin, how is this not payola? If you are not receiving promotional consideration, why would you ever bother promoting that band? (Click links above for clearly better alternatives.)
I am not very familiar with the African American formats, but I believe they run somewhere between classic soul like Marvin Gaye to urban hip-hop like Kanye West. This rap format, to me at least, hardly qualifies as music, especially compared to the greats of the Seventies like Earth, Wind, and Fire, Michael Jackson, or Diana Ross.
You may think your streaming audio options are limited until you check out Radio-Locator.com and see that they’re unlimited. I’ll probably be hung by my thumbs for this, but visit a UK site. (Just so you know, Americans such as us listen to crap on the radio, courtesy I Hurt Radio. The British have it all going on, I can tell you). When the station web site realizes your Internet Protocol address isn’t British, copy and paste WC2H 7LA for the required British postal code. Just a little hack, one that probably won’t generate a visit from MI-6, the NSA, and FBI SWAT teams.
If any of those agents do rappel down the side of your house, just say you have family in London, and you used their postal code. If they lock out that postal code, find a British company’s address and use that one. Remember, I never met you, I have no idea who you are, I will testify against you at a UN Tribunal. Lengthy prison sentences await you, although a cease and desist order may await me (a first for non-British, streaming radio theft, along with a slow day at the DA’s office). 12/30/17...
Or if you just want to sample what makes British music so superior, check this out (and click “Listen Now”), or via this link (click “listen,” “save,” then open download — not a virus, not at all)... 1/01/18.
You can bypass cheat codes (even silly, little ones like postal codes) with the Radio UK app. I would suggest when the app install requests your location, you don't give it, because you may run into nation blocking issues. Still, they know the country where they’re sending their traffic. Like any site, they need your nation-specific, Internet Protocol address to connect and route data... Heart 80’s has the hot hand on this app right now (an hour later, Smooth London), but you can cycle through the scores of British stations... Britain is five hours later than the East Coast, which means the overnight programming might be weaker, just like in the States. 1/02/18.
If you would like to get around the Youtube monopoly (including Youtube Red) it is surprisingly easy (this link includes many of the major details). Register as a webcaster with the United States Copyright Office, and also with a non-profit trade group, SoundExchange. You will pay 0.14¢ per song, ten plays are 1.4¢. With advertising on your web site, this is a simple business model to sustain. On the other hand, Shoutcast will set you up as a radio broadcaster, while simplifying the process over doing it all yourself. 8/28/17.
These are two staffs of musical notes, with its treble clef, and its higher pitched notes above, and a bass clef, with its lower pitched notes below. The notes are C to B in both the treble and bass staffs. The treble clef “G” circles the line for the note of G, while The bass clef “backwards F” circles the line for the note of F.
Sight reading sheet music for playing the piano, is not much different than touch-typing a typewriter keyboard. Of course, this is a far, far cry from playing the piano by ear without even the benefit of sheet music, but if you can learn to play from sheet music, you have significantly expanded your musical horizons.
Because your left hand plays the chords — three or four notes played simultaneously — it’s much easier to pick out the notes for the right hand than for the left. From Middle C, just count up the keyboard as you count up the staff on the sheet music. As you gain experience, you’ll be able to quickly know which piano key matches which note that appears on the sheet music.
Counting up or down from C helps determine which key to play. The next key is an interval distant up or down from the last key played, so use the prior key to find the next key to play.
The left hand, the chords, gets trickier. Major chords are 4 keys up from the “pinky,” or root key, then 3 keys up. C Major is played with these keys: C-E-G. Minor chords are the opposite, 3 keys up, then 4. The A Minor chord is played with these keys: A-C-E. Major 7ths are 4 keys traversed up the keyboard from the root, then 3, then 3; and Minor 7ths are 3 keys up, then 4, then 3. In sheet music notation, Dm7, or D Minor 7th, is played with these notes: D-F-A-C.
The chords are named after the root key, the “pinky key,” the most bass key in the chord. Chords are played in progressions: the C, F, and G Major chords sound good together, and pop music relies on them, almost exclusively. There are other progressions, but that gets rather advanced.
Because this is obviously just a small sampler, you’ll need a musical theory course at a college or university, or a competent music tutor, to help fill in the gaps of your understanding. This was one of the most beneficial courses I took as an undergraduate, because it was a firm foundation for musical appreciation.
Listening to the RadioUK app of local British broadcasting, Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel get less airtime across the pond. Are those two mostly speaking to the American experience or at least speaking more to it?
The Beatles dynamic: Paul McCartney was the ambitious one, and he was a stoner (who gave it up in his fifties when it started to compromise his mental faculties). If you were living outside the Western Hemisphere for the last fifty years, you don’t know that the singer-songwriting team of Lennon and McCartney (and then as solo artists) wrote what is arguably the best music in the history of pop music, or any music. If you ever tried learning the piano, you own several of their primers, ones likely including: Michelle, Ma Belle, Hey Jude, The Long and Winding Road, etcetera, etcetera, and etcetera.
How does one know the notes included within the Key of F major? With a whole step interval being two piano keys distant, and a half being one, start at F, and proceed: whole, whole, half, whole, whole, whole, half -- just like the white key (natural key) spacing on a piano beginning at C. Here, F is the root, the basis, or the starting point, and the key of F includes one flat, B flat.
The Rock ’n’ Roll Hall of Shame
Because I am an American (as of today), the First Amendment affords me freedom of speech. Opinion and parody are protected expression. If you know different, it’s because you live in Russia.
“Uh uh child, way you shake that thing (child, shake your ass, or shake what?), Gonna make you burn, gonna make you sting! (What will be burning and stinging?)”
This is from classic rock kingpin, Led Zeppelin, and their Black Dog, an anal sex masterpiece for pedophiles — or was it a KY jelly ad — or a rape, how-to kit to be played in teenage boys’ car stereos? Here’s more from the Zeppelin rape kit:
“Gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove... pretty baby, Move me while you do me now... Watch your honey drip... Darlin’ can’t you do me now?... Started tellin’ her friends she gonna be a star... I can really do you, huh? Ooh, wew, you do it, baby. Push it, baby...”
Is this just Zeppelin’s version of retarded sexuality as seen in Spinal Tap, or is this misogyny much darker, and insidious? You can’t say they’re the greatest rock band, they are only the most promoted and pretentious one. Anyone can say, with authority, that they are one of the worst bands, likely the worst, ever in existence. This band is so bad, they only libel themselves...
What makes no sense to me is how a monopoly like I Heart Radio, and their flagship Vermin Q104.3, so rabidly defends Black Dog among other Zeppelin relics. To defend Zeppelin, they would almost kill, or get someone to kill for them in their stead. I Heart Radio is only the broadcaster, why are they so concerned about covering for a band, covering for Zeppelin? The only explanation I have is that I Heart Radio is being paid very handsomely by Zeppelin’s record label to showcase them every night. If it’s not the label, who is footing the tab for unlimited Zeppelin access on our airwaves...
Led Zeppelin, they are noisy, get far too much airtime, and make for a musically-challenged foursome (in all honesty, this song is not listenable, and it’s not even live, this is a studio cut). If you take the average Who song and play it beside the average Led Zeppelin song, the Who song is invariably the better song. Irrelevant and out-of-touch I Hurt Radio, a nationwide network completely lacking originality, plays this band to no end, and they package it endlessly as the world’s greatest rock ’n roll band.
If Q104 (the I Hurt Radio flagship) defines Led Zeppelin as the state of the art in classic rock, then rock ’n roll is just an incredible waste of time and energy. Are there payoffs involved in the Zeppelin continuous promotion, how would regulators not think this wasn’t Payola? How did Led Zeppelin even get on the map, when the melody of their signature Stairway to Heaven is a clear rip off of Spirit’s Taurus.
By the way, on Valentine’s Day of 2018, Q1043 celebrated with a, you guessed it, a salute to Led Zeppelin’s love song catalog — not The Who’s, not the Dead’s, or even Paul Simon’s. You cannot make this up. I’m thinking they’ll lead with Black Dog. Welcome to juvenile sexuality courtesy of Led Zeppelin and I Hurt Radio. Here is a classic hard rock alternative, and a classic soft rock one. America, you deserve better than I Hurt Radio.
Bono of U2
At least until very recently, Ashley Judd either did not know of Bono’s tax evasion, or simply did not care. Ashley, at least until recently, has been a super fan of Bono and U2, and has followed him around the world to listen to him play Bloody, Sunday, Bloody, and his fabulous tambourine stylings, ones so reminiscent of Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra. Frank had mob ties, and Bono has ties with tax evasion, so the similarities do not end at just self-taught, amateurish, flat-sounding musicianship.
Ashley may still be in his inner circle of super fans, they both know and have worked with Pope Francis, to implement the Vatican’s, anti-Choice campaign, Fetuses are People!, as well as Bono’s own female-empowerment crusade, the sentimental, Year of the Double-X Chromosome. Upon learning the truth about Bono, Ashley may have bolted from his camp after learning he’s not who she thought he was, but I cannot quite call her on the telephone and ask her.
Bono can’t sing. You knew that already? Well, now, he can’t even talk. If you follow The Rock ’n’ Roll Hall of Shame you know that Bono is a bona fide here because he is a tax evader. He lost his voice half way through U2’s first set of a concert this week. The smart money is behind the obvious conjecture that his tax evasion chicanery finally caught up with him. Bono completely lost his confidence, his edge.
We hope for one of two things: either Bono retires in disgrace, or he pays back all the tax his fellow Irish had to pay in his stead because he’s a greedy SOB. Bono is the front man of an act whose mantra is: “Up on the stage, I pretend I am such a man of the people, but I live in a mansion and I rip off my people, my government, of tax money without compunction.” Bono is a filthy rich billionaire, and he’s doing everything he can to become even wealthier. Bono is a fraud, this is why his vocal box, the window to his soul, shut down. The justice he’s long deserved has been served, quivering and bloody. (After Shania Twain’s ex hooked up with her best friend, similar happened to her voice, and she was knocked out of commission for years.)
Unless he pays the full share of his taxes, that is, his public debt, we don’t wish him a speedy recovery, we only hope he remains mute, and never speaks another word. Isn’t it great to see another high and mighty celebrity fall from grace? Another one who gets away with the lucrative bullsh*t, that you had the common decency and good sense to avoid? Someone who makes their livelihood claiming that they are just like you, meanwhile they’re shamelessly gaming the system, because they are billionaires with little talent shaking their tambourine, yet with plenty of nerve.
“My name is Bono... Eh hem, I can’t really talk. I’ll get through this one, let me first hum a few bars to warm up the old vocal chords... Eh hem, hem, hey, stop heckling me, I entertain you, you pay me billions. I am better than you, so I don’t have to pay taxes. I AM THE LUCKY LEPRECHAUN!!!!! Hey, my voice is back. Eh hem, eh hem. False positive. The doc said the stuttering will only be the first leg of the tour, through Ireland where I don’t pay any tax... Sunday, Bloody... Eh hem... Sunday! There, I made it through the first three words. Hey, I would appreciate it if you did not call me a faggot, okay? I am a man of Jesus! Blimey, blimey, blimey...”
Bono, the near-billionaire tax evader and front man of U2, has decided to open his Let’s be Good Tour, with his anthem against a woman’s right to choose (if you’re behind the Pope, are you in favor of reproductive rights?), and at the same time make a bid to prop up his pal, Pope Francis. In honor of his “good friend,” Pope Francis, Bono’s heartfelt ballad for the unborn is called: Fetuses are People, too.
His tax haven arrogance may rankle the common folk. Yet this Emerald Isle poser has decided that the pursuit of wealth, and working to perpetuate the fairy-tale myth of Jesus the Christ, while evading one’s fair share of tax bill, is all that matters.
U2 is shameful, because their founder, Bono, uses tax havens. Because of this, he dispels any myth that he is a man of the people, which was essentially his act, claiming that he’s just like us. All of us can afford billionaire tax loopholes like he has?
Lynyrd Skynyrd were not as great of a band as the Allman Brothers, that other well-established Southern Rock band. Skin-nerd was a more commercial Allman Brothers, just as Zeppelin was a more commercial Who. The Allman Brothers and The Who were better musicians, had more interesting melodies and lyrics, and gave you more of a rush (studies of early adopters would show).
Skin-nerd’s embrace of the Confederacy was repugnant, as is a related belief that slavery and the era of the Confederacy somehow represents the South at its best. Just two verses from Sweet Home Alabama really ruins enjoying Skin-nerd for anyone with a conscience. They take Neil Young to task for playing this song, Southern Man (Neil Young, a Canadian, is forced to become America’s conscience here):
Tall white mansionsTo which Skin-nerd decided to enter the fray with:
and little shacks.
when will you
pay them back?
I heard screamin’
and bullwhips cracking
Well I heard mister Young sing about her
Well, I heard ole Neil put her down
Well, I hope Neil Young will remember
A Southern man don’t need him around anyhow
In Birmingham they love the governor (boo, boo, boo)
Now we all did what we could do
Now Watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
It would be like Billy Joel singing in the praises of the Nazis at Charlottesville. It’s not gonna work, no way, no how. Did the music scene really need a: Skin-nerd Alive!.
How much of a tragedy was the plane crash that terminated an ever-growing, popular figurehead who sent up a winking, veiled message of racism and hatred? Skin-nerd became a very popular voice helping to legitimize the Confederacy view, one espousing the very repulsive. Did fate decide in the favor of justice? Watching the Skin-nerd Zeppelin go down in flames is this the Zeitgeist’s revenge for bad karma? Or was the crash only the end-result of an aircraft that wasn’t flight worthy (like Led Zeppelin)?
Can music be politicized too much? If the Charlottesville racism could rally around a band like Skin-nerd, are we all okay with a racist subtext in popular commercial music? Truth be told, aren’t Southerners entitled to pretend their past was glorious, that their history deserves to be seen with selective blinders, and they have every right to ignore slavery and segregation, and give carte blanche to those guys in flowing robes with the face-covering hoods? Then why can’t the good ol’ boys take down those pointing out the South is wrong, like Neil Young tried to do? The Skin-nerd Zeppelin bursting into flames would be like the death of Skin-nerd’s heroes, Nixon and Wallace, and not missed at all by progressives...
Why should Southerners hide away from Northerners their love for the Confederacy and the greatness of slavery? These Southerners would love to turn on the rest of the nation to the primacy, the teary heartfelt conviction, of their standard-bearers, the Klan, and embrace the gay take down of an entire race, just like most Southerners have.
Skin-nerd was little more than redneck rock (and the forerunner of big hair metal, along with plenty of dressing room hair spray). The governor that Skin-nerd as Southern-apologist loves, was George Wallace, who was a racist to the core. Watergate would not bother you if you’re a Right-winger. It was a very disturbing time in American history. A President ignored the Constitution in favor of his desires to shut down any opposition. Given the Trump Presidency, we’re seeing history repeat itself.
By the way, Hollywood, in their infinite myopia, made a movie entitled, Sweet Home, Alabama. Just like the song, it must have been about the warm and fuzzy joys of subjugating and enslaving an entire race of people. Listening to Skin-nerd’s anthem, this popcorn movie must also be a warm and fuzzy history rewrite of a corrupt Nixon, and a racist Wallace...
Madonna can barely sing, and she cannot play any instrument. She is firmly in the Bono camp of tambourine musicianship (like Bono, Madonna can play neither the piano nor the guitar).
Madonna is against women’s reproductive rights. If Madonna ruled the world (in a Trump World, she could easily be appointed Secretary of State, making her three hops away from the Oval Office), there would be: unwanted parenthood; unwanted children; permanent poverty for impregnated teenage girls; or newborns should otherwise be given away, never to be seen again by their biological parents.
Like all so-called, “good” Catholics, Madonna feels a woman should be permanently punished for an accidental pregnancy, and she wants her millions of inculcated followers to do just as she says. As for any ambiguity in the message of Papa don’t Preach, it was embraced by anti-Choice groups, and reviled by pro-Choice ones. Madonna never offered the other side of the debate, so anyone can see that she’s promoting and singing a pro-Catholic position paper, and a bland one, as her music characteristically is.
All this from the material girl, espousing the beauty of riches, and rubbing poverty in the face of all those so afflicted, as well as the one donning a comical, conical brassiere. Most recently, she was asked to give a eulogy for Aretha Franklin. For some entirely unknown reason, she took the opportunity to talk about herself. Her most memorable accomplishment will be introducing the world to Madonna’s Hairy Armpits Revival Show — not shaving her pits was (or still is) a fashion statement of hers.
The Rolling Stones
The Rolling Stones, who ended the career of the Verve, because that band’s major hit, Bittersweet Symphony, was in the cross hairs of the Rolling Stones management. Jagger and Richards get 100% of the writing credit for the Verve’s best effort. The dynamic duo needed a few extra bucks so they took down a band with a better song than they will ever record because of a mystifying copyright violation.
The Verve’s Bittersweet Symphony is plagiarism when you have a tin ear, and Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven is plagiarism when your hearing is not a problem, but you’re a judicial player looking to score some political points. Even in the field of music, it’s still all about power plays over those with fewer resources. Real music gets the shaft...
Jay-Z, whose level of songwriting ability will never approach Joni Mitchell’s, recently penned this tripe: ”You wanna know what’s more important than throwin’ away money at a strip club? You ever wonder why Jewish people own all the property in America?”
Christians waste money is the message I get from this sloppy writing, but I’m sure his cheap shot meant spending money on strip clubs is somehow a higher calling. He’s worth over $30 million so where is he spending HIS money? If he wants to knock Jews, he’s much richer than 99% of them. He should take down himself.
He’s like Trump in 2016, saying anything that will keep him in people’s consciousness. Except he sings out of key and makes tons and tons of cash while he’s at it. He needs to do community service for just that line. His claim to fame is apparently being a bad ass, but you would think he would use more words in his songs besides hey and mama. Then okay, Jay-Z is not anti-semitic, he just writes anti-semitic lyrics.
I know I am way out of line, Jay-Z is the hero to kids everywhere, and the next MLK; or is Jay-Z what MLK was hoping America would never think of African Americans?
Why are Blacks treated as second class citizens in Billy Joel videos? In his videos, African Americans are uniformly thieves (Uptown Girl), custodians (For the Longest Time), hookers (Keeping the Faith), and bootblacks (Keeping the Faith). Otherwise they do nothing of substance, they are only background scenery. It’s disgraceful honestly. Joel’s videos are a Klan rally. These are not videos from 1963, they’re from 1983, and later. Mister Joel owes African Americans an apology. Or if he had little say in the creative direction here, which seems a bit unlikely, then the video director owes one.
These were very elaborate videos, this is near the height of MTV, before Napster and file-sharing crippled the recording industry. The video target demographic skews very young while his music doesn’t at all. Billy went back to his mansion, his video walk-on extras likely go back to a trailer park. There must have been tension between the major talent and the very minor bit players.
The Piano Man video was filmed 10 years after that album shipped. Repackaged as videos, do these videos lessen the inherent appreciation of the musical composition? The Piano Man visualization is just like a book that was mangled on its way to the screen, or here, the song getting into music video form. In my experience, bars are not such happy places, the only exception being the Oak Beach Inn from my youth. Here they are Heaven on Earth.
Because I am from Long Island which is Billy Joel stomping grounds, and his home field, I will likely get death threats for posting this (as I do for everything else from I Heart Radio). Okay, Joel is big out this way, but he has never been that big; but just watch these videos though, they are really cringe-worthy. Does Joel get any final cut privileges over his music videos? Or any input at all into the finished product?
I Heartless Radio is a Terrorist Organization
Let’s not just “get” I Heart Radio in retaliation for their vicious broadcast of “get Other Letter”, why not take them down completely (I Heartless Radio is the world’s biggest mistake in broadcasting, and is now in Chapter 11 receivership). They’re only disturbed, worthless faggots anyhow. That’s all they are, and all they will ever be, so why not make them run for their lives.
These terrorists better start praying to their shriveled baby Jesus, because their lives are over. They did their absolute best to ruin me, and I will make sure that they pay for it, if it is the last thing I ever do... 2/06/19.
The I Heart Radio staff of children haven’t been taking their medication. Instead, they’ve been doing dope. In fact, that is central to this conglomerate’s asset portfolio, because they own a stake in High Times Magazine, a never redeeming magazine devoted exclusively to photographs of pot.
This explains how erratically they behave on the air, and why their speech gets staggered, because they’re all blotto on drugs. They keep their drool cups within easy reach.
Anyone just knows that they’re smoking weed all day to fight back the tedium of reading back worthless and pointless copy. These zombie deejays are the talking, not walking, dead. You”d think these radio squatters, ones occupying the broadcast spectrum with worthless Zeppelin, would know at least a little about entertainment — they don’t.
The on-air male, prideful loser-fags are uniformly hired for being emasculated so they are not threatening to anyone but hermaphrodites. The female losers, if you really want to pretend that they are in the feminine end of the gender continuum, are actually all butch, and could easily fill in the male slots, reading the exact same copy as the males.
I say someone should do everyone else a favor, and just kill off the buggers. Either that, or look forward to the day when they all hang themselves after their misbegotten, Zeppelin-Payola, radio-cesspool, terrorist organization goes belly-up. With their “Get Other Letter” death threats, they are a national disgrace, a hate group, and an American black-cloud. 2/14/19.
Except for a few exceptions, Rock and Roll has been a White man’s game, it’s entirely racially segregated. Go down the list of the biggest names in Rock, and every band was all White: Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones, U2, Cream, the Who, the Grateful Dead, and the Kinks, the list goes on and on. One exception that included any Blacks were The Jimi Hendrix Experience, as well as a few non-front man roles such as Kwaku Baah, the percussionist in Steve Winwood’s Traffic.
There have been extremely few Black Rock and Rollers. It’s been Hendrix, period, end of sentence (George Clinton’s Parliament Funkadelic was dance-funk not rock — rock radio has never heard of P-Funk). Okay, there’s one more, Southern rock headliners, The Allman Brothers, had one Black as percussionist, Jaimoe Johanson. Lynyrd Skin-nerd didn’t have a one. There’s no way they would, because Skin-nerd waved the Confederate Flag, they believed in racial purity. Rock and Roll is a White medium, it’s a White enterprise.
Originally, the Fifties rocker pioneers were Black. There was Little Richard, and then there was Chuck Berry’s, mildly suggestive, and rebellious act, featuring My Dingaling. Elvis Presley copped the Black’s attitude and spirit, and the rest is Rock and Roll history, make that White Rock and Roll history.
2018’s Billboard Music Awards is a billboard for the Pepsi-Cola Corporation. Not only is the floor covered with the Pepsi logo, the hosts include mention of the caffeinated, nutrition-free, sugar water in their presentations. Is there really that little money in music awards and promotion? Or is this just greed at the top level? This is so crass. They should have ugly as a zit awards, and call them, you guessed it, the Zit Awards. One could be won at the BBMAs (give one there, and to I Hurt Radio for their noisy, boring, and over-promoted “music”).
The country music genre glorifies economic deprivation by substituting the desperation of a vanishing rural life with the celebration of the home...
At the Café Carlyle in New York City, Woody Allen regularly plays in a band as a clarinetist. He once said that rock music is often pretentious. There is some truth to this, as rocks adds dramatic effect at the expense of sounding more human.
There are times when the effect is meant to be monstrous, or at least, much larger than life. Van Halen’s Eruption, and especially AC/DC, and Black Sabbath, aim for this, not so much warm and fuzzy, as dark, brooding, and solitary. Head banging tracks are packaged as male bonding. You would be hard pressed to find women into a ten minute, rambling, melody-challenged, guitar solo.
The heavy metal bands are heavy as in much metal, or much electric guitar; and heavy, as in profound, exhilarating themes. Whether they pull this off, or are more geared for teenage boys, can be debated. Mostly, this is music to get loaded by.
When is the last time Heather Graham and Marisa Tomei appeared in the same movie?
Here’s a really useful page from the Internet Movie Database (IMDb) that checks to see which movies two stars appeared in together. Another not so obvious combination: Try Amanda Seyfried and Julianne Moore.
Two movies can also be entered to find above and below the line talent common to both (above is actors, directors, cinematographers, and producers; below is sound, camera, wardrobe, etcetera). One to try is Jurassic Park and Jaws.
If an actress is unusually good looking, she isn’t as good of a candidate for many roles. Screenwriters have to write her looks into the part. For example: Sally Hawkins at her office walking to the water cooler for a drink is not written the same way as Heather Graham doing the same. The latter has overt sexual possibilities for either hookups or flirting. If I may be brutally honest, Sally mostly doesn’t have the same animal magnetism. With Sally, her character and her character’s ally, talk about the boss’ demands for the monthly reports, and what they’ll do to settle a score beginning at page ten of the script.
There’s too much money at stake for film investors to play politics with their productions. This is even more true of huge budget blockbusters. Especially these days, Hollywood cannot afford to be political.
If you want to see a movie, that except for a couple of creepy scenes, is a classic, romantic comedy and musical, watch Meet Me in St. Louis. The headliner here is a young Judy Garland, a young Judy because this was made in 1944, during World War II. You would hardly say this about any actress today, but she is really delightful. She lights up the screen, she is a major talent even then, at the age of twenty-two. Everyone else looks like they’re only going through the motions, but not Ms. Garland, she is completely transformed into Esther Smith, her character.
There are two scenes that do not fit at all. A Halloween scene where children make fun of an apparent immigrant. The other creepy scene is when the protagonist family is considering moving from Saint Louis to New York. The youngest in the family loses it, and attacks Christmas plaster statues in the snow with a bat. The young actress, maybe an eight-year-old, hardly seems as though she is acting, and is visibly upset. Nowadays, they have set psychologists when child actors and actresses are confronted with difficult material. For instance, in Tarantino films, all child actors are afforded lifetime psychological and legal services.
An interesting theme here is keeping them down on the farm — once they’ve seen gay Paris. They chose the much more agrarian Midwest and Saint Louis over moving to New York, which we all know is the home of Satan incarnate.
One very poignant song sung by Ms. Garland had the line: “Next year all our troubles will be miles away.” The year after this film was made, in 1945, the Nazis surrendered, but in 1944, the World was still in chaos. Judy was right...
Charlatans a-plenty are selling the secrets to being a screenwriter or an actor. Can these so-called secrets, available everywhere on Youtube, be of any value, especially considering how weak their IMDb resumes are? Or are these trades all learned experientially? Therefore, is the key to portraying the human condition coming to terms with your own well-lived life story, then drawing cinematic dialog, or acting method, from the compelling lessons you’ve learned?
Violence, out of revenge, or for any other reason, is not sexy although Quentin Tarantino’s life’s work would want you to believe different. It’s just sickening and gross. And while we’re talking about Tarantino’s work, in Pulp Fiction is he endorsing heroin chic, or is he saying hard drugs are just heartache? Does Quentin glorify, and in essence endorse and legitimize, drugs, violence, and the seedy side of life; or is he saying: “Don’t play with dynamite, you’ll only kill yourself”? He definitely sounds like his message is the former, and not the latter. Somehow, Tarantino convinced himself that copious displays of carnage make for great filmmaking, and an enjoyable film going experience.
Why won’t people go to movie theaters anymore? Do you want to be in a dark room watching a movie with much darker subject matter, in a country that does nothing about its gun problem, and where there have been massacres at theaters (and anywhere else)? Why aren’t wholesome, crowd-pleasing, popcorn movies like Rocky made anymore? See the next article...
This is why movies of today suck so badly: Hollywood screenwriters are the ones who survive screenwriting “contests,” and the criteria of these “contests” are based on film school, literature themes from the 18th Century, and just as ancient formulas of conflict that makes the audience squirm in their seats, within a rigid three act structure...
Another reason: To recoup tremendous production investments, the movies rely on safe messages, stale clichés, bankable stars, and proven money-making franchises, at the expense of producing lesser-budgeted thoughtful scripts with novel plotlines and characterizations...
The other reason: Take the top twenty movies of any year in the last thirty, and at least fifteen are for teenagers at the mall — Hollywood plows their billion dollar budgets into movies that serve as baby-sitters...
And one more reason why, if I could only speak French, I would never watch another American-made movie: Hollywood has decided that the coolest thing on this Earth is to exact revenge on a public enemy, and then watch the blood gush as this score is evened — that is the premise of every Quentin Tarantino movie...
By the way, why not drop the foreign language Oscar? The answer is simple, foreign films are too competitive for Hollywood fare. The Academy relegates foreign classics out of sight and out of mind where they cannot compete against America’s continual offerings of Bloodfest 2019 or Captain Teen saves Portland...
Hey, tonight is the biggest night of the year for all you couch potatoes. That’s right, it is the annual, Television Academy Emmys. Are you really interested in mini-series, limited-series, series, and made-for-TV movies? Forget this crap, and watch a real movie.
By the way, ringleader Lorne Michaels and Saturday Night Live received record nominations for tearing down Trump, after he let him host twice during the campaign season. Now that Michaels’ man Trump is in, no amount of whitewash will erase the pro-Trump sentiment SNL boosted.
In Michaels bid as a publicity whore, to do anything for PR, he gave Trump the SNL platform and national visibility among deplorables he needed to become President. This may be libelous language, but Michaels sold his soul to Satan when he invited Orange into NBC’s Studio 8H, and then projected him onto the national stage. 9/17/17.
The highlight of this year’s Emmys in my estimation, were the presenters: Carol Burnett, of the Seventies Carol Burnett Show; and Norman Lear who created the ground-breaking All in the Family among many more such as The Jeffersons, Good Times, and One Day at a Time. Ms. Burnett is one classy lady, and she represents all that television could be. Right now though, talent is so diluted across a thousand TV channels that much of what is on the small screen, isn’t even watchable. Even big, movie people, like Nicole Kidman, are moving to TV, and they try to make a case for how relevant it is, but it is so marginal in terms of quality, and watchability. Others may be entirely impressed, but I’m sure not. 9/17/17.
For me, the low point of the Emmys broadcast was the ending. Not because I wanted more, but because Oprah was presenting to Elisabeth Moss. Oprah, you may know, posted on her social media a picture of Barack Obama and Trump, with the caption, “Hope lives!” She is hopeful for the Trump’s Presidency? Maybe the tax overhaul has her very interested in him. Moss is a Scientologist. So the show closed with an Oreo giving an award to a Scientologist. Where was Ms. Burnett when you really needed her? 9/17/17.
Overheard at the Television Pilot Marketing Convention
Isn’t it time you signed on with a winner, a winner like You’re Making it on Mulberry Street. The log line is: “When it’s always happening and going on, you’re on Mulberry Street.” You’re thinking, “urban, hip hop, I can dig this, and dig it big-time.” Yes, biracial, every family on the block by some odd twist of fate has biracial parents. But there’s more, the kids appreciate both Black and White cultures. They’ll listen to Billy Joel on their boom box as much as Marvin Gaye. The beauty here is that BOTH major demographic subgroups are captured — straight outta the box, from the pilot.
And what a pilot! The kids outside bicker if Billy or Marvin is heavier, just like their biracial parents are doing the same inside while making supper. The cops break up the noise, and everyone goes home for grits. Did I say this takes place in Chicago in the 1970s?! Here we have solid ratings gold bringing together the two races. Parents love this content, kids do, and so do entire communities. It’s content that’s always happening and going on, because you’re on Mulberry Street.
Hi, I am Meryl Streep!!! YES. I. AM!!!! Are you ready, America!!!! Woohoo!!!!!!! Welcome to the Seventeenth Annual Blockbuster Video Awards!!!!!!!
Why does murder sell so well?
The New York Times Fiction Bestseller List is essentially a Murder Incorporated roll call, two thirds-plus of the book titles there have premises involving murder. Where does global cinema get its book adaptations? Much of it is from bestsellers, exactly like that on this list.
If Casablanca was made today, there would have to be a sequel like: Casablanca Two: The Return of Rick.
Before Sunrise The 2017 Oscars went on and on and on last night. One started to wonder if this will this end before Sunrise. Could the cutesy tour bus segment been scrapped? Or put the technical Oscars with the rest of the technical Oscars on Technical Oscars night?
Viola Davis, the Best Supporting Actress Oscar recipient, gave the speech of the night, and a very stirring one at that. The main message was that most of our true heroes were never discovered, they are in their graves. Either they did not have spectacular lives, or they did, and hardly anyone cared, their triumphs went entirely unnoticed.
The accounting firm of PriceWaterhouseCoopers that handled the authenticity of the results may have trouble getting non-Oscars work having botched the ceremony. How can a major corporation blow something so patently simple as tabulating ballots and handing out envelopes?
As for the host, Jimmy Kimmel, he brought his stock to new heights, delivering entertainment, then peace and calm, even during a crisis never seen before in the Oscars 89 year history.
One sad note, the guy occupying 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue claimed that the winning envelope mix up was a product of everyone focusing on him. Is this further proof that our President’s cognition is being compromised with premature dementia — that, and an out-of-control ego of a thin-skinned meany with money who was never up for the job. 2/27/17.
That’s not much, is it?
Your average star in Hollywood has even less education than your average Trump voter. Most in Tinsel Town have little or no college, because when you look as good as they do, and when you have had that much material success before your twenty-fifth birthday, why bother working at calculus problems?
My Fan Club of One
There are many, many actresses who should have had bigger Hollywood careers than they have had so far, or will ever have. Jennifer Connelly has an Oscar to her credit, but I cannot recall anything since A Beautiful Mind that had a script of the same caliber. Ashley Judd had such a stellar debut in Ruby in Paradise, then some quality action thrillers, then not so much else. I cannot say for certain if Blythe Danner qualifies for inclusion here. I will say she won a Tony but she should have won more movie roles, and more significant ones at that.
Cameron Diaz should have more roles like the one she had in Being John Malkovich. Diane Lane is a talented actress but she has not been in many major movies outside of The Perfect Storm, Unfaithful, and Walking on the Moon. Halle Barry did Monster’s Ball, but not much other significant work, probably because of her skin color and the consequent lack of roles available for those of that skin color. Heather Graham was in Drugstore Cowboys, but except for About Cherry, I do not recall her getting any important roles since then.
Kirsten Dunst does quality work but she seems to have been relegated to television. Add Maggie Gyllenhaal to that category, although she has done original film work that was not well-marketed, or well-distributed, or at least had a wide release. Marisa Tomei can be added as well for being a TV actress in Empire, even though she has an Oscar on her mantel (or wherever it is that she keeps it).
Lindsay Lohan is an excellent actress capable of compelling performances, but her past has been so difficult that, I’d guess, she may be a gamble to film investors who underestimate her box office draw. Kate Hudson won a Supporting Actress Oscar for Almost Famous, but since then, in my not-so-humble opinion, she has not been casted for much that is worthy of her talents.
Gwyneth Paltrow had a string of successful movies including Shakespeare in Love, Sliding Doors, and Emma, but the roles did seem to diminish once she started her family and took on the concomitant responsibilities, as well as the move into establishing her Goop lifestyle brand. Meg Ryan fell off the radar in the 1990’s somewhere around Sleepless in Seattle and When Harry met Sally. As far as I know, she has not traded in a Hollywood career in favor of opening up a full-time, dairy farm in Vermont.
Ah, zee French
If you watch enough French films, you begin to realize why the Academy, the Oscar crew, created a Best Foreign Language Film category. If they didn’t, America’s Hollywood wouldn’t be winning the Best Picture Oscar every year — France would often enough. The Academy needed to make non-Hollywood films a side show.
The French understand and can create beauty like no one else can, just look at the Louvre, which many say is the World’s finest art museum. Cinematically, French works are apparently a national effort, and often a pure flight of imagination with sumptuous sets and entirely unique characters. Hollywood, by comparison, is often an amateur hour, one pandering to children and adolescents, with wooden interpretations of linear, predictable narratives, and with their artistic vision defined by focus groups.
When Casting Casts by Type
Actresses try to take on all manner of parts, but they do seem to do better work in certain genres. For instance, Jennifer Connelly excels in serious roles in realistic settings; whereas Nicole Kidman appears on stage and screen to much acclaim in light-hearted or supernatural fare that’s an extreme departure from reality. Jenny C couldn’t be called on to play Satine in Moulin Rouge, and Nikky couldn’t play Alicia Nash in A Beautiful Mind.
Ashley Judd has often appeared in what Variety, the entertainment daily, might call “Chasers” — she is being chased, then by Act III, she summons available resources, and she is the one chasing down the malefactors.
Gwynnie Paltrow receives plaudits in high brow, period pieces like Emma, Sylvia, and Austin Powers in Goldmember. She can nail a British accent as if she was born there. Charlize Theron is often seen in futuristic fantasy movies, or ones with a razor-sharp edge, or at the very least, not a butter knife one.
Heather Graham makes films outside the mainstream that plays up her oversized sexual attractiveness. Meanwhile, Reese Witherspoon plays the every girl next door faced with trying times, or long odds. All mostly play single women who are not mothers, because if they were attached, they would be inaccessible as fantasies...
The Deserving that Never Won what They Deserved
Unbelievably, Alfred Hitchcock never won an Oscar for any of his films. He did win the Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award, for lifetime achievement. This is the official, please accept our apologies, “The Academy Screwed-up Award.” Why this is instructive is that while all his films are now considered classics, they are also considered classics of hard-core suspense — so they were before their time creatively. If you were a member of the Academy, and you didn’t care much for suspense films, you didn’t care much for Hitchcock. Hence the Hitchcock Oscar blackout.
Blythe Danner could have won one based on her ability as a theater actress, except of course, not on the film roles that she was never offered. There are likely many more deserving actors who will never tearfully accept the golden, little guy, and start gushing about how much the award really belongs to fifty others watching from home, whose names the winner carefully recites from notepad, or now, from iPhone — and the orchestra, getting progressively louder, cuts in a third of the way through the recitation. (All apologies to Gwyneth Paltrow who conveyed sweetness, and not saccharin, fake emotion; or Meryl Streep who has won so many times, she could be outside, getting her moppets to sleep, while they announce her name.)
One and Done Hollywood
Film projects that headed South can end the career, and even the lives, of those helming them. Two come to mind, Duets directed by Bruce Paltrow (Gwynnie’s Dad), and most recently, Mother’s Day led by Garry Marshall. Hollywood does not seem particularly forgiving, brutal is often the term much more appropriate. Tinsel Town, and its investors especially, embrace the “What have you done for me lately?” aesthetic. If you cannot bat a thousand every year, we will find someone who is putting up Ted Williams numbers instead. If you are not leading the pack, the pack leaves you behind, in its dust.
Work may have once been plentiful when they were getting good reviews — Mr. Paltrow was a show runner at Saint Elsewhere, and Garry Marshall created Pretty Woman — but professional interest in them definitely seemed to wane after Duets and Mother’s Day were poorly received. Both directors were dead of “natural causes” within two years after their final movie — Mr. Paltrow at age 59 of oral cancer, and I would guess, the disease was stress-advanced.
Squirming in your seat is entertainment?
I have always wondered if squirm-in-your-seat dramas, where the conflict dial is set to maximum, is the best way to present theatrical material with strong moral lessons. Take Monster, for instance, Charlize Theron’s classic. If the script was written to make it more palatable, wouldn’t its message reach a much wider audience? When movie-goers know a drama will be tough to sit through, then attendance will be lower than it deserves, and its vital theme will never be heard.
A movie-goer is entering into an implicit contract to be entertained — albeit a very brief one — between themselves and the production company. Aren’t heart-wrenching movies violating this contract? Couldn’t the producers of Monster be sued for such a violation?
Just the other day, Charli and I had a several-hour, heated debate over “where literature goes at night,” or the cinema. She said, and I will quote as she gets so riled up that she loses all her composure, and veers away from her typecast, “Gripping cinema, where Man is seen at his low point, represents a proven box office formula, they are always an ineluctable draw. More than anything else, the cinematic audience loves and embraces full-bore conflict.” As proof, she waves the Oscar at me that she always carries with her everywhere she goes.
I collect my thoughts, and slowly reply, “Do you think Schindler’s List would have done decent box office, would have had a much wider appeal, and would have spread its message of tolerance near and far, if it had only shown its paying customers any mercy?” With this, I hold out my hands to the left and to the right, and say, “How else might I own this palatial estate, with its servants, seasonal activities including Esther Williams-esque water ballets, and winter ice house carnival (LA-A/C style), etc., etc., etc., without a knowledge of cinema like Orson Welles, Francis Ford Coppola, or Jean-Luc Godard?” At this point, as usual and in abject defeat, and knowing that she has far exceeded her authority to speak, she recants all she has said.
Seinfeld could have been more meaningful
Seinfeld fell completely flat in one area, and to me this was a most significant one. It was meaningless. Let’s hear all the important social issues raised by their ten years of prime time dominance — like morés? Don’t double dip corn chips? They were not quite All in the Family, were they?
Jerry even said that this was a show about nothing, yet that was its major fault. It was not in protest of any of life’s ills, they existed in a vacuum without any racial or socioeconomic differences. Jerry, and co-creator Larry David, did not challenge the status quo, they embraced it. For all the power that show could have exerted as being the only show watched in America then, it spent its political capital on things like Junior Mints, and Jerry’s world-class, breakfast cereal selection.
Even today, his Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee does not address what is wrong on this planet, and especially not as George Carlin, Lenny Bruce, or Richard Pryor did (to name only a few), and did with such great effect.
Antiques Roadshow has a cow pie special
Antiques Roadshow — this week we’re from Omaha, Nebraska... We don’t see too many cow pies like yours. Have you done research on your cow pie?... Well, the other appraisers and I were talking backstage about your cow pie, and we had never seen such a fine one before. Can you guess how much your cow pie is worth?... Not even close, your cow pie is worth well over... And that’s just in my retail shop. If you put it up at an auction well-attended by people who know and who love cow pies, this will be worth well over... Because the wholesale market for prime cow pies has went through the roof recently, so you’re looking at a real gold mine... Make sure you insure your cow pie for at least...
Mad Max: Fury Road? I must be getting old
They laid out a huge budget, a cool $150 mill, for Mad Max: Fury Road. Did they get the full bang for their buck? They rounded up a CGI cast of thousands. This is not a criminal procedural from Point A to Point B, it’s a futuristic procedural — not quite 2001:A Space Odyssey though. No, I got two thumbs middling, for stretches where the narrative was too challenging, or uninteresting, to follow. They could have doubled the admission price if they let Charli grow out her hair. She really carried the show. No trouble figuring out who the good guys are and who the bad guys are — the good guys are mostly the girls. Yarn spun out of extreme hot rod culture.
Entertaining the tired Great Depression masses
Movies from the Great Depression had an odd fascination, bordering on obsession, with the well-to-do, and how to reprove the excesses from their unfathomable wealth.
A Hollywood Actress’ Third Act begins at Thirty
The Fatal Flaws of Incredibly Well-received Movies
Jerry Seinfeld, Establishment Comedy Wimp
(Seinfeld is not a movie, he’s just a TV show.)
Jerry Seinfeld was recently given full-page access to The New York Times where he explained that he would not do political humor because he did better writing bits about raisins. “...I can talk about raisins in ways other people can’t,” the billionaire from TV’s Seinfeld said. While other more sophisticated and mature comics are doing advanced political satire, Seinfeld hones his bits about raisins.
By cornering the market on staying out of the fray, he is the most handsomely paid comedian of all time. He would never, ever ruin his vaunted position by defending the defenseless. He just has no interest. He will be writing about raisins until the end of his time on this planet. He is the Jewish choir boy, the high priest of milquetoast. He is also a comic with a residency (at the Beacon Theater), just like Billy Joel has one at Madison Square Garden.
Seinfeld portrays himself in The Times as the comedic everyman, a tough guy, fighting off hostile crowds, ones incensed with his material, with his every punch line. Yet he only makes risqué jokes about raisins. He gets the pro-Vatican crowd at his shows. Elderly, wealthy Republicans live for his sanitized, antiseptic pablum.
The rest of the comedy world is fighting for their very lives, and for all of humanity, while Seinfeld is coaxing yucks out of anyone loving a good raisin joke. “You, sir, in the Brooks Brothers suit, wouldn’t you just love to hear another raisin joke? Hmm?...”
Jerry Seinfeld gives his wholehearted endorsement to Other Letter over himself (from the Hi, My name is Jerry, The Documentary).
I know Other personally, he’s a real stand-up guy. Someday he’ll be right here doing stand-up, because he has more talent than I ever had. I’m just a clown compared to him, albeit a clown who can afford to own his own nation. His stuff has such depth, while I have made an extremely lucrative, and comforable, living telling jokes about raisins.
Other’s more likable, and he looks better in a suit and tie, or whatever he dons on his future show. I can see him wearing a variety of fabrics, gingham in summer, that wool weave in winter, oh, herringbone. Ascots, for a Seventies feel, and muttonchops to revive a time when men ruled their domain, not like today.
Today, men have to take a header from the #MeToo whacko chicks, because if I was in his shoes, I’d keep going with the political stuff. I can’t go political, I’m just a wimp, but not Other, that guy is made of steel, or some other durable, rust-resistant metal. He’s Superman in my comic book. I would love to meet Other, just to pay homage to his greatness.
You’re on, Jerry.
I could go on forever about how superior he is at comedy and at life, at least compared to me.
You’re on, Jerry.
What an effing guy.
You’re on, Jerry...
How are we doing, Radio City?! Hmm! Hey, you’re cute! What’s your name?!
Did you take the LIRR to get here tonight?
Jersey girl, very nice. Did you take the Number 2 train uptown?
The Number 2 Express or the Number 2 Local?
The Number 2 is express.
Bitch! Who here thinks the women’s movement was a good idea? [Much applause.] And who thinks it unleashed the ball buster in every woman? [One guy applauds. Jerry points to him.] We’re going for drinks later. You and me, Miller Lite, my treat. This is what is known as living the high life. This is also what is known as male bonding in the greatest city in the world [very light golf tourney applause]. Are you people on drugs? You’re snoozing through the opener of a one-hundred-twenty-five-dollar a seat, Jerry spectacular. These are what are known as jokes.
I’ll offer attribution to all those who practice the dark art of comedy, and here that’s Rodney Dangerfield. Dangerfield explained why he was up on the stage, he was trying to make the Carson crowd laugh. These. Are. Called. Jokes. Unfortunately, Rodney’s weren’t always appropriate jokes. He strayed below a G-rating into no-man’s-land. God rest his tortured soul. A moment of silence, please, for Rodney’s tortured soul [silence, no laughs]. Gees, are you a tough crowd. I knew Rodney, knew him like a brother. Many Miller Lites enjoyed between the two of us. He was a comedian who was nearly as funny as myself...
This is the story of the academic and interpersonal struggles of a father and daughter pair, along with the casualties caused by an environment devoted solely to exhausting the brilliant, charging them with generating newly-published theorems, when the sciences they expound upon no longer have anything new to discover.
While Gwyneth Paltrow’s performance was excellent on one level, she responded very appropriately to every dialog cue, on another level, at the performance’s foundation, she did not honor her character’s difficulties when relating to a World in which she had limited, lifelong participation. Yet her role of Catherine was somehow outgoing, and self-assured. This may be more a function of directorial guidance, but somewhere along the way, the effect of her back story had limited effect on who she was in the present day.
Then from where did this confidence emanate? Why wasn’t she shy, reserved, and deeply introspective? She did belong in the autistic spectrum in places, but this was not carried through start to finish. Was the autistic personality even studied as preparation for the role?
Here was a confident woman, who given her sheltered, cloistered life, did not seem as though her self-assuredness was a quality she should possess. Would a shy Catherine make her performance much less commercial? How did her extremely bookish environment, one removing herself from everyone else, produce someone so sure of themselves? For me at least, this confidence could not follow from the character’s initial arc.
Big Little Lies
The fatal flaw to Big Little Lies is the premise. A murder is committed because of a schoolyard fight among youngsters. Could a precipitating incident be this contrived, yet be so well-received by critics and audiences alike? I really feel like I am implicating Hollywood royalty in crimes against the cinematic State as this effort is a star vehicle for Other favorites, Nicole Kidman and Reese Witherspoon, et al.
Lost in Translation
This won Best Screenplay at the 2004 Oscar’s ceremony. The auteur, Sofia Coppola, and the leading man, Bill Murray, are revered in Hollywood, and most anywhere else in America. Yet throughout the movie, the joke in this romantic comedy is mostly on the Japanese, and Murray’s performance is typecasted from earlier ones.
Bob Harris, Bill Murray’s character, appears on a game show whose host is little more than a debasement of East Asians. If I was Japanese — and even though the host was a real one for a time — I would really be offended by how unnaturally goofy he is. Is this character someone the Japanese can be proud to have as a countryman?
Next, Coppola shows a hooker who is so sickly obsequious and fawning it is really repulsive and offensive to watch — again, the joke is on Japan. There are even more examples of subjugating Asians for comedic effect.
One other note, Bill Murray plays the usual stereotype of himself here, the same wisecracking, long suffering, put upon guy with the wry sense of humor that he always plays. The range in his characters’ personality never strays far from Saturday Night Live sketches from the 1970s.
Sofia Coppola is pulling the wool over Americans who don’t know any better. She is taking advantage of the fact that most Americans do not have any frame of reference upon which to judge these caricatures, and this includes Coppola herself. I lived in a suite with Asians in college. I can tell you first hand, that this does not represent them, in any sense. This best succeeds as a travelogue, but only as an Oscar-winning screenplay if the ethnocentrism was deleted from the final print.
Benjamin Braddock, played by Dustin Hoffman, is seduced by Mrs. Robinson, in a turn by Anne Bancroft. If you see their scenes together leading up to the seduction, one wonders what Mrs. Robinson, who has a college-age daughter, could possibly see in Ben. He’s not just a 21-year-old, he is a young 21-year-old. He’s not age mature, he stammers away at almost every sentence. This is a then-forbidden romance that had no point existing in the first place, because there was no basis for her attraction.
On a related note regarding the improbability of their romance, Dustin Hoffman was just six years younger than Anne Bancroft when this movie was filmed. So on-screen, they were impossibly matched regarding maturity and chemistry, while off-screen their ages were much closer.
This is considered a masterpiece in screen writing by a screen writing master, David Mamet. This all works together well, except for one thing, what is Mamet’s beef against the Vatican? The Church is portrayed as icy and villainous and no reason is given why. It is okay for Mamet to have issue with them, but after two hours shouldn’t the audience know what the issue is? It’s not for being anti-choice, not for misogyny, and not for homophobia. The Church is taken to task throughout the movie, but for no reason. Hollywood studios are allowed to simply bash the Church, the demographic-narrowing, unacceptable taboo is to offer any reason why.
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
The greatest play by perhaps our greatest playwright states that, ultimately, homosexuality can be cured. You can’t cop out to puritanical, Fifties America any more than that. And to boot, Tennessee Williams was gay, so he must have knew what the real truth was.
Batman versus Superman: Dawn of Justice
Think about this for a second: a Caped Crusader armed with only a utility belt, versus the man of steel, one possessing super vision, super hearing, and super strength. Whoever came up with this premise didn’t think this through enough. Batman against Spiderman, that might have potential, they can both climb walls. It doesn’t make for the most exciting chase scenes, to be sure, but at least the contest is not so lop-sided. Here, in this movie, people walk out in the first ten minutes quizzically scratching their heads. Ten minutes being the amount of time it would take Superman to absolutely annihilate Batman.
Then, if we can get realistic, what is a Batman exactly? A Superman is a super man, Batman is a what, a bat? How can you root on a bat? The saving grace of Batman is: his Bat Cave; his Bat Car; his boy ward, his better half of the Dynamic Duo, Robin; and his tech-savvy butler, Alfred. If Batgirl wasn’t on the scene, the whole operation wouldn’t seem a bit heterosexual (don’t forget, they wear tights, hot pants, and capes). Which I wouldn’t have a problem with, except these are beat-em-up super heroes. Honestly, is Gotham gay? For a variety of reasons, Batman versus Superman falls short of the mark, to even the casual observer, one whose closet is not entirely filled with Marvel comics.
Another failure of a Batman versus Superman movie is the fact that Gotham is run over by an omnipresent, omnipotent, pretty much unstoppable, criminal element. Mischief is regularly being caused by the Joker, the Riddler, the Puzzler, the Penguin, Mister Freeze. I could go on and on, right down the list. With Superman and Batman fighting each other, who will save this fair city? Does anyone really care at this point? — I mean considering that Gotham has gone straight to Hell. Are grudge matches between the good guys all that’s left here? Dawn of Justice? — dawn of justice for whom? Not the Gothams fighting for their very lives, and praying for salvation, but meanwhile having to deal with the pettiness of those sworn to protect them. They should just surrender their crime fighting badges, damn them.
Super-hero Theory and Practice 101
Does Batman honestly need that cape? How does Batman, the Caped Crusader, benefit from being caped? He can't fly because he wears one. Wouldn’t it just catch and snag on anything sharp? It’s not to cover his eyes, because he already has a face mask.
Then again what about his tights? I could see the advantage in winter, because he needs both heat retention and freedom of movement, but why are they needed in summer? Wouldn’t they be soaked with Batsweat? Maybe the cape is just there, in conjunction with his chest-level, Bat badge, to offer the fashion illusion that he’s bat-like.
Sure, Superman had a cape as well, but he could fly. Superman’s cape was there for aerodynamic efficiencies. Batman cannot fly, he cannot get air borne, no way, no how.
All that Batman had was a too-small, utility belt that he used to help him climb walls, but Batman cannot climb walls the way even Spiderman can. Batman lumbers up the side of skyscrapers, and compared to other super-heroes’ agility, he borders on the pathetic and cringe worthy. Granted, Batman had the Batmobile and a very large array of gadgetry, but if it wasn’t on his belt, he could not use it in crime fighting battles.
My firmly held belief is that Batman was prototyped after Superman. They are different, but when they blueprinted Batman what did they have to work with? Well, of course, they had Superman, didn’t they? More astonishing is this: Was Batman really Superman 2.0? And, in fact, Batman was created in 1939, while Superman predated him in 1933.
The question might even be raised: Does Batman even deserve inclusion among the Justice League, and other elite crime fighters such as Wonder Woman, Flash, and the Green Lantern?
How did Batman get calls to investigate? It would have to be through Police Commissioner Gordon, wouldn’t it? There was a dedicated Bat phone in the Commissioner’s office, a kind of Russia-U.S. detente connection. Then the Gotham Police Department, already up to their necks in all manner of villainy — Joker, Mister Freeze, Penguin, Catwoman, Riddler, the list is never ending — would hand off some crime-fighting workload to the Dynamic Duo.
This is where it gets tricky, what if they are not by the Bat phone, what then, Batman? Would their butler, Alfred, answer the phone, and jot down details for the Duo? How would triage be performed with excess cases? And the caseload, it more often than not involved jewelry heists, kidnapping the mayor’s daughter, or even more anxiety-producing, the abduction of Batgirl (who always found herself to be the pawn in each of the villains’ game).
Did Batman and Robin become well-trained from handling continual repetition? Where were they trained, are all super-heroes trained there? Do they learn crime fighting domestically, overseas, a combination of both depending on curriculum? I would think the Batboat would have to be tested in the Mediterranean for European assignments. What is studied at the Academy? Is it mastering the martial arts, or countering the villain toolkit, with supporting coursework in maintaining the core objective, keeping world peace, order, and unity?
If we’re already talking super-heroes, who can teach them? Maybe it is collegial, super-heroes offer each other crime fighting tips. The comic book literature, very surprisingly, has never answered these questions.
Would Commissioner Gordon’s charming librarian daughter, Batgirl, be called upon? Were there cases she would handle best, say same-gender ones, like putting a stop to the nefarious Catwoman, or was case assignment independent of Gotham crime fighter gender? Would Batgirl go one-on-one with her bounty? When would she resort to calling in Batman and Robin? Was the protocol that if she found herself up to her neck in it she’d get Bat help? Can you answer these vexing questions, Citizen?
Clark Kent: Can we forget lunch, Lois? I need to get on these movie notes right away. This will explain everything about the industry, how I made it big in pictures, you know? Hmm, thinking, I can save Gotham while I’m at it, too, then Mr. White gives me a raise, and Jimmy leaves The Daily Planet.
Lois Lane: I thought you liked Jimmy.
Clark Kent: Well, maybe now I don’t so much. He takes a slice of Daily Planet payroll pie that I wouldn’t mind having all for myself.
Lois Lane: He looks up to you like you’re his big brother.
Clark Kent: Well, I’m not, Lois, okay?!
Lois Lane: And Superman, we don’t live in Gotham, Batman does. We’re Metropolis, remember?
Clark Kent: Dang! Why do we need two freelance, self-deputized, crime fighters around anyway?
Lois Lane: To balance municipal workload?
Clark Kent: So then how’d you know I was Superman?
Lois Lane: Well, the tights were one give-away, the cape, a second—
Clark Kent: Alright, already!
Lois Lane: Although Batman has you beat in the utility belt department.
Clark Kent: You don’t play fair, Lois.
The villain here is Mia Farrow, not Woody Allen
Dylan Farrow’s brother, Moses Farrow, has stated that Mia coached the family on implicating Mr. Allen. According to Dylan’s brother, Mia was the one doing the abuse, and that she physically abused her son. For Dylan’s part, her livelihood revolves around perpetuating this myth of never substantiated abuse, because otherwise she has done nothing with her great fortune from being raised by two of the biggest names in Hollywood.
Woody casted Mia in her best roles, which she morphed into being a vindictive ex-wife with the nastiest of divorces and custody battles. Yet even Mia has stopped making hateful comments against Mr. Allen, as she no longer defends her adoptive daughter. The original sin, the villain here, is Mia Farrow, not Woody Allen...
Welcome to the Woody Allen Witch Hunt. Here’s a few background notes: Dylan Farrow, Woody Allen and Mia Farrow’s adopted daughter, claims she was molested as a seven-year-old by Mr. Allen. Woody makes movies about adult romance, extremely sensitive to the human condition, with the hottest starlets in Hollywood including, but not limited to: Diane Keaton, Scarlett Johansson, Helen Hunt, Kate Winslet, Charlize Theron, Penelope Cruz — you name them, and they’ve all worked for him.
Yet he hasn’t directed what the far Right claims is Woody’s true passion, the one between seven-year-olds and grown ups. I’m trying to think of a Woody Allen movie where the leading man was getting hot and heavy with a young girl into coloring books or hopscotch. Funny, I can’t think of any one at all. Anyone know of a Woody Allen movie where he indulges in his main fantasy, four-foot-tall goddesses? Unbeknownst to prying eyes, does Woody secretly have dozens of mini-wives in Thailand?
Why would Woody have any interest in youngsters that age? They’re not physically or emotionally developed in any sense, they’re flat-chested for one thing. Woody is being framed for crimes he never committed. Mia Farrow and/or her offspring must have had some incredibly big blowouts and bad blood with Woody, so this is the way for the Farrows to get even, and the Farrows have shown no human kindness whatsoever. This is after Allen put her in thirteen of his movies. Farrow has no career at all without him.
I suggest Woody returns fire, and implicates the Farrows in crimes, imaginary or not. Does Dylan have a heroin habit? Is Mia deep into the sauce? Considering their crazy accusations, one would think that they would.
Lights, camera, and action...
The following are capsule notes and reviews of deservedly, or undeservedly, significant films. All have made important, weighty contributions to Cinema, but not all of them have made positive contributions.
The film, Next Stop, Wonderland, was on cable recently. Its title comes from a stop on Boston’s underground, public transit system, or the “T” as it is known. Now this is a movie worth watching. Because Wonderland is set in Boston, it allows for a very sophisticated singles scene (because of all the colleges there?) but with requisite, yet needless, heavy drinking and smoking. Was the drinking a screenwriting cheat giving the cast primacy, authenticity, or sophistication? If Wonderland was set in Dixie — even as far North as, I’d have to say, Philly — instead of Bean Town, the Church would be the focus, the entire film would somehow revolve around Jesus and family outings (just joking, almost).
The message was that the hands of fate will serve you well, if you remain good and true to your values. The narrative was slightly “challenging,” a euphemism for they could have tried to connect the plot points better. Hope Davis had a great turn (in bemused sentiment and in looks, she reminds one of the Before... franchise’s Julie Delpy), as did the rest of the cast, including the late Phillip Seymour Hoffman.
Kill Bill, Vol. 2 Quentin Tarantino is such an over-rated blood peddler, such a purveyor of violence porn, especially with carnage fests such as Kill Bill, Vol. 2. He makes trash about white trash. His main plot points become the murder of people, that’s the creativity evidenced in his work. His genius is maintaining viewer interest through incessant blood splatter. He finds revenge so eloquent of a statement about the human condition that he devotes entire movies to it. One needs a real taste for blood, gore, and violence to appreciate these burnt offerings.
Tarantino sells the inside story to the seedy, the ultra-hip, or those characterized as both — ultimately claiming that his bourgeois, ticket-buying audience has it over everyone. He promotes stylized violence to the World, and the World embraces it, thus making him extremely rich. Given that actual violence often mimics what is shown with exquisite detail in motivation and in execution on the silver or TV screen, especially when committed by the younger ones, the world would be a much better place if Quentin was still a video store clerk.
This movie was so offensive in so many ways. Besides just the violence, it was misogynist — women in a cage motifs — and patronizing to the lowest classes. Perpetual industry-booster, Roger Ebert gave this garbage four stars. In his review, he made no mention of the fact that they were burying Beatrix alive in a coffin? Why bother with a coffin? Doesn’t that only make her escape all the more likely? Well, of course it does, how else would she ever survive her given predicament? The violence is campy on the order of a TV Batman episode. I had enough an hour and twenty minutes in, just as Uma squished with her foot, the eyeball she just carved from her enemy with an oh-so-special million dollar sword. I know, completely laughable, if it wasn’t so sickening.
The only redemption to this exercise in schadenfreude is that Uma Thurman was such fun to watch (schadenfreude means enjoying watching others suffer, as Nazis would, and such is the joy here). Without Uma, there is no movie. Next, Tarantino will be showing us the inside of a slaughterhouse, and America will be lining up to drop a Hamilton so they can get a look.
The Academy made the right choice for Best Picture, The Shape of Water. They didn’t choose two coming-of-age pics about at-risk youth: Lady Bird, and Tell me your Name. They also turned down two war-related movies: Dunkirk and the Winston Churchill movie, Cigars for Britain. By Act III, war movies eventually glorify war, even squirmer ones show the glory of national revenge. Three Billboards over Ebbing, Missouri didn’t win, which was more entertainment about hysterically angry people.
The Academy gave Best Picture gold to The Shape of Water, which was my choice. It was a romantic comedy (a rom-com, as they are known to inner circle Hollywood types), which are long shots to take home Oscar gold if not rendered with deft direction and sensitivity...
Also, looking at the Ceremony, one thing comes very clear. The actress pool is thinning fast. Look back to the glamour of the Golden Age of Hollywood: Elizabeth Taylor, Audrey Hepburn, Katherine Hepburn, Ingrid Bergman, and many, many more. They were cast for films more for their breeding and full-fledged acting chops, than for their looks.
Today, the women you see on-screen seem more like the by-products of beauty pageants than acting studios or the theater (even sex pot Marilyn Monroe had acting skills). If you say I’m just plain wrong, match up an actress of today with any from the 1940s, 1950s, or 1960s. You’ll run out of today’s actresses long before running out of ones from the Golden Age. As for the leading men, today they are chosen for how often they’ll introduce steroids into their body.
Ashley Judd will be presenting at this year’s Oscars. Remember when Pink floated above the audience at the Grammys with a steel trapeze wire? Well, Ashley will be doing the same thing at the Oscars, again no net here, except she’s not scheduled to sing while she swings.
Ms. Judd is quite the jockette, I have seen video of her doing back flips in her pool. There is no other actress in Hollywood who can do back flips, younger or older, ever. Ashley is an avid acroyoga practitioner, so while she dangles mid-air above the Dolby Theater she will be doing moves recently seen on her Instagram account.
There’s more, while she’s gyrating and floating above the Oscar crowd, she will also be presenting. No word yet on which category, but the home team says she deserves to present Best Picture for taking down the patriarchy. Ashley’s not to be missed, she will be the 2018 Oscar highlight — guaranteed.
They’re not the same People
It was a slow day at Other Letter’s Worldwide Headquarters, so we decided to yet again unravel more of life’s mysteries. These pairs of pictures are not of the same person, they are two very distinct people, living very distinct lives (except for Natasha Richardson, Madeline Kahn, and Patrick Swayze who are now deceased, God rest their weary souls):
(Still from Nine Lives
© Nine Lives, LLC.)
(Still from Break at Serengeti
(Still from Heart and Souls
© Universal Pictures)
(Still from Back to the Future
© Universal Studios)
(© 1990 Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc.)
(© 1975 20th Century Fox)
The avid celebrity cognoscenti should also avoid confusing the following: all of these actresses identify themselves by three names. If I ever get Copyright attribution straightened out, I will post more celebrities’ images.Penelope Ann Miller
Sarah Jessica Parker
Sarah Michelle Gellar
Mary Louise Parker
Jennifer Jason Leigh
Mary Stuart Masterson
Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio
Jennifer Love Hewitt
Chloe Grace Moretz
Lisa Robin Kelly
Helena Bonham Carter
Melissa Joan Hart
If you would like to participate in our quest to uncover more celebrity twins, drop us an email with a pair of the famous that must have a common gene somewhere.
© 2006 Other Letter
Reader discretion is advised. The following report depicts violence between hockey players. Could be considered offensive to non-Canadiens, non-hockey players, or even hockey fans. That should cover everyone.
The Team Match Ups
Back in the 30’s, the Pittsburgh Penguins met the Montreal Canadiens in a contest that would decide much more than a playoff berth. It would decide how a two-nation sport would be played. And from there, would determine the character and destiny of professional hockey, its players, and even its fans, forever.
Back then, the Canadiens were known as the Habs, the Habitants, or settlers. The nickname, humbling for its time, was coined in ’24 by the stateside fighting promoter, and later, Madison Square Garden owner, Tex Rickard.
Montreal was facing off with the penguins in a match that’d send the winner to the playoffs. This playoff bid was to be the first in either club’s history. This was the last drive before the elimination round.
The Habs had skating legends, they could skate you against yourself. They had stick-handlers that were, as a rule, unstoppable. The penguins had five goons, and even one, on the front line, on offense. They had a goon on every line. They had more goons than any other team, before or since.
The faithful in the Canadiens’ Forum knew this was it, and so did their team. A loss here and the hockey legends were farmhands again, their beloved sport a distant memory.
Back to the Action
The Habs skated around the penguins in period one. The penguins checking though, was much more than brutal, every time the ref’s back was turned they took cheap shots, they used intimidation tactics to make the Habs shy off chasing a puck into the boards.
After an extremely vicious stick slashing check to the head of an unfortunate Canadien, he was removed from the ice in a stretcher, body shaking, blood pouring from his head.
The ref saw it, the Habs saw that the ref saw it, yet the ref didn’t call a penalty, he just waved on the game. The ref would only call penalties against the Canadiens. As the team doctor tried to keep the Canadien alive, the Habs circled the ice holding their sticks out in front of them.
There was no score in regulation. They went to sudden death overtime, OT, next goal and career’s were done, the Habs’d be finished.
Life outside the Montreal Forum
Because of the Canadiens very difficult schedule, the hardest in the league, they lost a lot of players to injury, they had been decimated. They were out numbered, they could barely field a team some nights. It was night after night, no days off, road trips in cheap seedy motels. No calls home. Four to a room, no privacy. Morale among the Canadiens hit low after low.
Pittsburgh had the steel industry so they always filled their seats and the superstar life of their players was secure. And they knew how to fly under the radar. Top level hockey management wanted to keep Pittsburgh attendance high. This franchise never had questionable penalties called against them.
The penguins had the most beautiful lady penguins at every home game. The Habs were deep in the Great Depression, they had a limited but extremely loyal fan base. At their games they had mostly guys, farmers, some of whom were also firemen, and there was even a pastor with a season ticket subscription.
Went to a Fight, and a Hockey Game Broke Out
By now, all the Habs started holding up their sticks with both hands, a stratagem known as cross checking. This is a two minute penalty in the NHL, but with the entire team doing it, the game was over. There was no team left to be fielded. If they hit the penguins going as fast as they were easily, effortlessly capable of skating, they’d start taking off people’s heads.
What had started as a hockey game, was now more than a blood sport, this was ‘til the death. Some of the kids in the Forum started crying, fathers told their wives to take them to their car and wait. The penguins started swinging their sticks like machetes. The Canadiens were too good though, they managed to just skate around the goons, even though a hockey stick can be wielded like an ax to kill someone.
American Blood Sport
The penguins still weren’t getting any penalty minutes, nothing was being done. Many in the Forum knew what the deal was. The ref was in the pocket of NHL management. They wanted the game rigged so America looked supreme to Canada playing the great game of hockey.
So when the next line left the bench it too held the sticks out in front of them. They’d be doing damage in return, they’d be returning the favor. For the next eight minutes, blood was pouring out of players’ noses, ears, and, even, their eyes. The only ambulance and doctor was at Centre Hospitalier de Saint Laurent, over an hour away taking care of the Hab who was slashed in the first period, but it didn’t matter, there would be fatalities. The morgue hearse was quickly dispatched.
The game was recorded for posterity as a 0-0 tie. Those in the stands knew the real winner though. And they’re still playing the rubber match, the winner of this game has yet to be determined, Canadiens replay this every day of their lives.
To this day, old-timers tell of the screams they heard from the Forum while sitting in their cars with their mothers. And when you mention the Pittsburgh-Montreal game they get a little spacey, their eyes glaze over, and they just get bleary-eyed. They heard Satan sing that night, not before the game but after the game was done. And he wasn’t singing O’ Canada. He was singing the Star Spangled Banner.
If anyone from Pittsburgh somehow reads this, I am very sorry. No offense intended, but the name of your ice hockey team probably dates back to then (it doesn’t, it dates back to 1967). Somehow it fits the narrative. Fans identify their teams with their personalities. I didn’t mean to trash Pittsburgh or fans of the Pittsburgh Penguins. Maybe I can make it up to you. The Allegheny, Monongahela, and Ohio Rivers, I’m trying to figure this out, do they all join somewhere, what are their sources? I’m guessing they don’t crisscross. Next time anyone asks directions to Three Rivers Stadium, you can tell them that, it’s where the rivers cross. Anyhow, thanks again, this is really appreciated.
I cannot Tell a Lie
When I’m tried for treason and sedition against the United States for the last line of this story (where Satan picks a country), I am sure a United States District Attorney will approach me at the defendant’s stand and begin with the following questioning:
DA: “Are you Al Queda?”
DA: “But you have Satan singing the Star Spangled Banner?”
DA: “Satan doesn’t sing O’ Canada?”
Me: “He doesn’t have to. He’s not welcome there. He knows where his audience is.”
DA: “And yet you’re not [sneering] Al Queda?”
Me: “[sheepish and all kind of defensive] No.”
DA: “You’re Al Queda!!!”
Me: “I bet you say that to all the detainees.”
© Other Letter, Year of our Bush 2006
Exclusive to the New York World
From my press box above the Polo Grounds, I join the ovation for the Sultan of Swat, the Great Bambino, the most savvy baseball player of our age. His December 26th trade, from the Boston Red Sox to the New York Yankees, will forever change the sport of baseball. Forget for a moment that the Bosox’ owner, Harry Frazee, could only trade to one other team besides the Yanks, the Chisox (a mandate per American League president, Ban Johnson).
After last fall’s Blacksox scandal we needed a marquis player. One bigger than life itself to play in the biggest, big league city, the five boroughs of New York. The Babe deal gives the game a much needed lift, even saving it from its demise. Our friends in Bean Town will be sorely disappointed. After four World Series championships in the last decade, though, isn’t it time for the men in pinstripes to win some? Besides, why have the Babe stay with the empty-handed cousin?
The ball is back on the diamond of the greatest city in the world. The World War will soon be a distant memory -- any Yanks from the War for the Union reading today? Lucky for us, a bright future awaits Yankee baseball.
We all know the Babe and Head Coach Ed Barrow went at it in Boston, occasioning many, including yours truly, to say it was time for the Babe’s departure.
I, too, was surprised when the same Ed Barrow followed the Babe to the Yankees as Head Coach, just a month after the Babe made it to the Yanks. Big time baseball, go figure.
Young and old, if you read these pages day in and day out (and forever), you know what I think, the Babe is the greatest celebrity we’ll see in the roaring 20’s. Looking ahead, he could even make it in Hollywood. Many New Yorkers are saying his arrival may very well be the start of something great for the Yanks and something even better for the City, the only city that can afford to keep these kinds of players, players in their prime.
Three weeks after the Babe’s trade to the Yanks, we lose booze. Gives the mob something to sell though. The Great Bambino’s been known to have a few even though ones like us don’t deserve that right. Prohibition is the law!! We’ll look the other way for you though, Mr. George Herman Ruth.
|With the sudden departing of Marilyn Monroe we asked the man on the street (and a few women), how they felt about her untimely death. Interview subjects silhouetted so they may remain anonymous.|
Monty Mall: Well, after five, long months of qualifiers, it’s time you put some cash in your wallet. Now you have a wife and how many kids?
Jim: Five kids.
Monty Mall: Okay, are you ready to make a million dollars, Jim?
Monty Mall: How are you doing?
Jim: Hanging in there.
Monty Mall: Then welcome to our Millionaires Round. Just select one of the following Master Tasks, and complete it:
One, push a semi down the I-95 Corridor from Portland, Maine to Boston, Massachusetts;
Two, levitate your house;
Or Three, extract blood from this stone.
Jim: Where do you keep the million dollars?
Monty Mall: You just need to do one of these three Master Tasks, Jim.
Jim: Is it on the set?
Welcome to the 24-Hour Fashion Network
Lance Pike: Welcome back to the 24-Hour Fashion Network. I’m your host, Lance Pike, taking you through the overnight. Jack Rose is up next with his live report about waffle-weave polos, and where you will find them this summer — Jack?
Jack Rose: Yes Lance, waffle-weaves are known as a wintry fabric, they’re air bafflers. These days, though, many men, and the ladies too, are finding them in polos. I have a sample here, this is not your father’s waffle-weave with the very wide rib-knitting. And as you can see, the weaving is drop-stitched, not side-knitted.
Lance Pike: Why would people need to choose a waffle over, say, a standard ring-spun textile?
Jack Rose: Actually, it all depends on the individual. One may be hoping for wicking; the next, comfort and breeze resilience in the evening.
Lance Pike: Who would like a waffle?
Jack Rose: A lot of people — and not just those working in the trade — are now asking, “Who would not like a waffle?”
Lance Pike: Who wears waffles?
Jack Rose: This is what everyone is talking about this year — the demographic is shifting. Once, waffles were only for the elite, and rarely seen outside the polo grounds. They were originally for the polo player and his spectator, as the accoutrément for the sporting enthusiast. Today, anyone can wear them, and they do.
Lance Pike: You sound disappointed.
Jack Rose: Well, to be frank, I am. Fashion is branded on exclusivity and cachet, and with the waffle, we’re starting to see some of this being taken away from us. There is a wide chasm between Democracy, and Fashion Democracy, between the Distribution of Wealth, and the Distribution of Fashion. In a free, well-balanced society, these chasms must be bridged, or we’ll all just teeter-totter right over the edge.
Lance Pike: Do waffles last?
Jack Rose: People won’t even hand these down, they’ll tell siblings, “Let go of my waffles.” If they don’t need them, they will store them.
Lance Pike: So what time of year would people wear these fabrics, Jack?
Jack Rose: That really is determined by your latitude, and how far into summer you are. For latitudes South of the Mason-Dixon Line, and beginning after Memorial Day, this is a safe, care-free weave — you will not have to concern yourself with catching chills, or keeping them spotless. You are good to go.
Lance Pike: What about our friends to the North?
Jack Rose: Then this fabric becomes a little more dicey. Experts tell us you won’t have a problem after the Summer Solstice if you’re in Canada — this would also include Minnesota, Wisconsin, the Dakotas, and even parts of Iowa.
Lance Pike: What about the Windy City?
Jack Rose: It’s pretty much the same story there, although you’ll want to switch away from your mid-Spring, mid-weight collection to the waffle sooner than, say, someone in Alberta’s Calgary or Edmonton, although not sooner than someone in Billings, Montana.
Lance Pike: Billings is so much warmer?
Jack Rose: Well, the elevation is higher, so the fabric’s thermal properties respond to being closer to the Sun.
Lance Pike: Thank you, that’s so fascinating.
Jack Rose: You’re welcome, Lance.
The One-cup Brassiere 8/21/13.
Lance Pike: ... Roger Reed on the cats’ catwalk in New York. Up next, Raquel Racque with the lingerie that you may not be wearing right now, but you will be, along with everyone else. Raquel?
Raquel Racque: Yes Lance, this is the story of the One-cup Brassiere, the latest fashion accessory out of Paris from the House o’ France ... See Lance, this is fashioned almost like your typical unmentionables. Say you’re at a party, and you would like to go braless for one prospective suitor, say a former beau, and show support to another, say a wealthy aristocrat. Until today, this was impossible, there was no other way to present two different looks to two very different men at opposite sides of the room. With the One-cup though, women can display the braless side to one man, and the lifted side to the other.
Lance Pike: Sounds very practical. Women are heading to their corsetieres in record numbers for this piece, besides the obvious common sense to such a garment, what is motivating them?
Raquel Racque: Well, certainly value — the woman gets two looks for the price of one.
Lance Pike: I might find these in which sizes?
Raquel Racque: Every recognized brassiere size is available. In America, this is A to G, in Britain, A to LL, although some manufacturers go to N. By the way, they are not sold in pairs like underpants, they are known as singles.
Lance Pike: Has there been full support in the industry for this design?
Raquel Racque: Yes, very full support, with some socialites saying the design is almost uplifting.
Lance Pike: Thank you very much for that revealing report, Ms. Racque. Up next, want to spruce up your wardrobe on a limited budget? Have you seen the new burlap lines? You’ll need to thank us for it. We’ll be right back after a few words with Tourism China.
Postscript: there may be a question regarding which man the woman will wear her bra for — her old beau, or the wealthy aristocrat. The former boyfriend only remembers how she made his passion soar. He knows how she looks au naturel, and he does not care as much how she looks any more, he just wants to be with her again. The wealthy aristocrat at this point is mostly a superficial dalliance, so she wants to enhance her looks, he will not be the wiser until later, if she so allows him.
There is a second tack though. She wants to be revealing and sexy to the aristocrat so she goes braless. Her old beau may have earned more of her respect than the aristocrat, so she wants to be more presentable and dignified for him. We welcome your comments.
Matchmaker, Matchmaker ...
Grandpa: Why not go out with that Dutch girl, Charlize?
Alex: She’s South African, Grandpa.
Grandpa: Dutch, South African, six of one, half dozen of the other.
Alex: Grandpa somehow thinks my prospects are that good. I know he means well, but I couldn’t afford one dinner like the kind they’re used to having.
Grandpa: Then go Dutch treat with your Dutch treat.
Alex: — And Grandpa’s ideas about women are just a little old-fashioned.
Grandpa: I heard that! ... Hey, how about that spicy Italian dish, Marisa.
Alex: She only dates philanthropists.
Grandpa: Hmm ... Then how about the one with all the curves, Kirsten?
Alex: Grandpa, how would I ever meet any of these women?
Grandpa: You have a web site, don’t you? Post an ad. Put your picture on it, too.
Alex: I’ll have to think about this, Grandpa.
Grandpa: Say, there’s the one who’s always in the news, what is her name?
Alex: Gwynnie, Gwyneth.
Grandpa: Yes, Gwynnie.
The Other Letter Interview
Other Letter: Soixante Minutes, was that your given name?
Soixante Minutes: Yes, in French it means Sixty Minutes.
Other Letter: How is that pronounced?
Soixante Minutes: “Swah-sante mee-nute.”
Other Letter: That is a very unusual name.
Soixante Minutes: Thank you. My parents were firm believers in lifelong careerism. You know, mentoring in pre-school, instilling capitalist values, all that good stuff. They also felt I should set my sights high, high as they could go. Where higher than our country’s premier news weekly?
Other Letter: So they named you after this TV show. Always nice to have a leg up. How appropos.
Soixante Minutes: Yes, I am employed by my namesake ... [The red light above a TV camera lights up] ... We are back with our guest, Other Letter. You have a very unusual story. You are hated in many quarters because you have a web site with very unpopular — many would say un-American — opinions.
Other Letter: So un-American I used to fear for my life.
Soixante Minutes: What changed?
Other Letter: I stopped knocking guns. Now Other Letter has links to Walmart, photos of Bushmasters, I am officially pro-NRA. Like to go shooting?
Soixante Minutes: Now?
Other Letter: No time like the present. What do you shoot?
Soixante Minutes: What?!
Other Letter: Never mind, we’ll make it another time.
Soixante Minutes: How do you feel about abortion?
Other Letter: Same thing. I wrote things about back room abortions, forcing rape pregnancies to term, a male-centric Church. Yeah, and unwanted children not wanting to see their birth mothers. But I have seen the Lord, I have mended my ways. Abortion is a mortal sin against God, it’s in the Bible somewhere.
Soixante Minutes: What about Al Queda?
Other Letter: What about it?
Soixante Minutes: You have claimed that what has given rise to Al Queda is what must be addressed, sending out drones against them is not the answer.
Other Letter: I heard a funny thing about that on NPR the other day. If we send out drones to other nations, can other nations return the favor, and do the same to us? Representative King has spoken for the Irish Republican Army. Because the IRA is a terrorist organization to Great Britain, can Britain send missile drones over his office?
Soixante Minutes: Do you fear you will pay for being a loose cannon?
Rewriting TV Theme Songs
The next time you watch the Mary Tyler Moore show, make sure you listen to the final verse of the theme song. On the first season’s shows, the theme ends with “... You might just make it after all.” Every season after that, it’s “... You’re going to make it after all.” The first theme is dark, somewhat foreboding, as if to say, hey, as a small-town Minnesotan, she may not take to the big city life of Minneapolis-Saint Paul.
The next version is upbeat, reassuring, and cheerful, MTM will take the bull by the horns, the fates are all with her. Also in the second version, we see her settling in — she’s washing her car in a purple number ten jersey. That’s the jersey of Minnesota Viking’s Hall of Fame quarterback Fran Tarkenton, she follows the local teams. In the park sequence, MTM takes a brisk spring walk. You can tell it’s July by all the melting snow.
MTM Season One
MTM Changes Tone
At the time this was all happening, the War in Vietnam was raging out of control, all manner of cultural upheaval was taking place, yet here we had this determined young woman setting an early feminine feminist example for career women (in fact, if you can read lips a little, in the season one intro, it seems like she’s saying “feminism” should be a theme). Watching the show, I do remember there was something about her personality I really liked, one facet being she was so sincere, another that she was very kind.
Gilligan’s Island 1st Season (Maryanne & Prof 2nd-billed)
Gilligan’s Island Everyone Included (after 1st season)
Gilligan’s Island also had two theme songs. When the show was in black and white the theme ends with: “... the Movie Star, and the rest, are here on Gilligan’s Island,” the rest referring to Mary Ann and the Professor. The closing bars when the show was in color: “... the Movie Star, the Professor, and Mary Ann, are here on Gilligan’s Island.” Of course there was the debate: Mary Ann or Ginger, country or city, girl next door or glamour puss, country charm or cosmopolitan sophistication. It’s surprising they initially gave second billing to Mary Ann, and, for that matter, to the Professor. I guess life goes on.
12/22/09. I left out Betty White, the Happy Homewrecker, er, Homemaker on MTM. She did a superlative job, as did Valerie Harper and Cloris Leachman.
1/19/12. Best I include the entire Emmy and Golden Globe-winning cast: Georgia Engel, Ed Asner, Gavin MacLeod, and Ted Knight (who, in 1986 at age 62, passed away from cancer).
Secrets Revealed from Sixties and Seventies, American Television 4/3/11. If you grew up watching TV from the Sixties and Seventies, a few questions from then may remain unanswered. For openers, who and where were the Bradys’ and Partridges’ original spouses? On the Brady Bunch, the Partridge Family, and on other TV series, very significant elements of the premise were left only to the imagination.
The long sought identity of Carol’s first husband was revealed on an episode rarely seen in syndication, “The Honeymoon.” Carol Brady’s full name is Carol Ann Tyler Martin Brady. The derivation: Ann is her middle name, Tyler is her maiden name, and Martin was her last name until the day she walked down the chapel aisle with Mike Brady. So after Carol began raising her three daughters, yet before she was a Brady, she was known as Mrs. Carol Martin.
The show’s open-minded creator, Sherwood Schwarz, wanted Carol’s first marriage to Mr. Martin to have ended in divorce. However, the network brass felt a soured marriage followed by the unthinkable would never help to buoy ratings, so they respectfully requested Mrs. Brady be a widow. Deadlocked, both principles decided against revealing anything at all about Carol’s first marriage (other than the Martins had three girls together). Re the paternal side, Mr. Brady’s first wife had died, the cause of death was never given.
In the early ’70s, every Friday night at 8:30, a family band loosely based on the Cowsills broadcast over the airwaves coast to coast. With the Brady Bunch as their lead in, they opened each show singing “C’mon Get Happy,” we know them as the Partridge Family. Susan Dey of L.A. Law fame got her start here as the eldest sister. David Cassidy, the real stepson of Oscar-winner Shirley Jones, played her stage son on the Partridge Family as well. All the while, where was Mr. Partridge? He had died six months prior to the pilot episode.
There are questions on TV programming besides ones about matrimony. Why did Carol Burnett pull her left ear at the end of each show? Originally, the gesture was to let her grandmother know she was alright (both her parents were alcoholics who could not care for her). Later, it was meant for her daughter to let her know she loved her, all was well. Who was the put-upon cleaning woman from the recurring sketch? Elizabeth Taylor played one incarnation of the role in the Eighties. I cannot find the answer though, the charwoman was either an invention of Ms. Burnett, or her writers.
Finally, why were the castaways on Gilligan’s Island so well-packed and well-dressed for their three hour tour? It was Shriner Luau week, and hotels were over-booked so they had to carry their luggage everywhere they went. Actually, the last one is a slight mis-truth, they needed clothes for the series.