I highly recommend reading the article "The Truth Alone Will Not Set You Free" by Mark Hedges, regarding the destruction and replacement of American culture with mass, corporate culture ("junk culture") and the repercussions of this shift. Below are some highlights.
The most important struggle will be to wrest the organs of communication from corporations that use mass media to demonize movements of social change and empower proto-fascist movements such as the Christian right.
American culture—or cultures, for we once had distinct regional cultures—was systematically destroyed in the 20th century by corporations. These corporations used mass communication, as well as an understanding of the human subconscious, to turn consumption into an inner compulsion. Old values of thrift, regional identity that had its own iconography, aesthetic expression and history, diverse immigrant traditions, self-sufficiency, a press that was decentralized to provide citizens with a voice in their communities were all destroyed to create mass, corporate culture. New desires and habits were implanted by corporate advertisers to replace the old. Individual frustrations and discontents could be solved, corporate culture assured us, through the wonders of consumerism and cultural homogenization. American culture, or cultures, was replaced with junk culture and junk politics. And now, standing on the ash heap, we survey the ruins. The very slogans of advertising and mass culture have become the idiom of common expression, robbing us of the language to make sense of the destruction. We confuse the manufactured commodity culture with American culture.
The emergence of corporate and government public relations, which drew on the studies of mass psychology by Sigmund Freud and others after World War I, found its bible in Walter Lippmann’s book “Public Opinion,” a manual for the power elite’s shaping of popular sentiments. Lippmann argued that the key to leadership in the modern age would depend on the ability to manipulate “symbols which assemble emotions after they have been detached from their ideas.” The public mind could be mastered, he wrote, through an “intensification of feeling and a degradation of significance.”
The modern world, as Kafka predicted, has become a world where the irrational has become rational, where lies become true. And facts alone will be powerless to thwart the mendacity spun out through billions of dollars in corporate advertising, lobbying and control of traditional sources of information. We will have to descend into the world of the forgotten, to write, photograph, paint, sing, act, blog, video and film with anger and honesty that have been blunted by the parameters of traditional journalism.
“Read ‘The Gettysburg Address,’ ” [Stuart] Ewen [author of “Captains of Consciousness: Advertising and the Social Roots of the Consumer Culture” and “PR: A Social History of Spin”] said. “Read Frederick Douglass’ autobiography or his newspaper. Read ‘The Communist Manifesto.’ Read Darwin’s ‘Descent of Man.’ All of these things are filled with an understanding that communicating ideas and producing forms of public communication that empower people, rather than disempowering people, relies on an integrated understanding of who the public is and what it might be. We have a lot to learn from the history of rhetoric. We need to think about where we are going. We need to think about what 21st century pamphleteering might be. We need to think about the ways in which the rediscovery of rhetoric—not lying, but rhetoric in its more conventional sense—can affect what we do.
Between seasons 2 and 3 of Lost the writers and producers created an alternate reality game (ARG) known as The Lost Experience. In short, it was intended to engage the audience in a narrative that would be too difficult to tell on the show itself. Videos were created and hidden on the internet, following a band of contemporary characters following the Dharma Initiative and the Flight 815 hoax. The Lost Experience supposedly followed the story of Lost, and those who chose to engage in the experience would be rewarded with extra information while those who didn't follow the game (and only watched the show) would not be missing anything. And for the most part, that's been true. I stopped following easter eggs on the internet after season 3, but there is one part of the Lost Experience that has become part of the mythology for me, a major part that has yet to be addressed on the show: the Valenzetti Equation.
The Lostpedia website explains:
According to the 1975 orientation film in the Sri Lanka Video, the Valenzetti Equation "predicts the exact number of years and months until humanity extinguishes itself." During the video, Alvar Hanso also states that the radio transmitter on the Island, will "broadcast the core numerical values of the Valenzetti Equation." The numbers, 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 42, are explained in the Sri Lanka Video, as the numerical values to the core environmental and human factors of the Valenzetti Equation. Alvar Hanso also states in the video that the purpose of the DHARMA Initiative is to change the numerical values of any one of the core factors in the equation in order to give humanity a chance to survive by, effectively, changing doomsday. However, Thomas Mittelwerk reveals that as of 2006, they have failed to change the values through manipulating the environment, as the equation continues to arrive at the same six numbers.
The equation, therefore, is a mathematical prediction of the end of days, and Dharma is part of the experiment to change the equation. So here are my questions: (1) Why hasn't the show explained either the Valenzetti Equation or Dharma's purpose? Having just finished season 5, I would think the Cuse and Lindelof would have incorporated this background information into the story by now. Changing the equation explains why Dharma is experimenting with polar bears in tropical climates, electro-magnetism, and time-travel (the bunnies). (2) The purpose of the numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42 are still being depicted on the show as coincidental. When they were etching the numbers into the Swan's door, why wasn't there an explanation as to why those numbers were chosen? And (3) the show is heavily invested in this idea of variables. If the following theory is correct (which I attribute entirely to my mother), then why hasn't the Valenzetti Equation been mentioned?
If the show does not incorporate the Valenzetti Equation into the last season of the show, I will be very disappointed. The following explanation of the show has allowed me to accept and appreciate the characters, their ridiculous circumstances (and even more ridiculous decisions), and to embrace the tone of the show rather than merely criticize the reality of it.
The End-All, Explain-All Theory (that makes Lost better than it actually is)
If we assume that changing the Valenzetti Equation is in fact part of Lost's mythology -- and I really hope it is because it explains so much (for a show that explains so little) -- then we can connect Jacob and Esau's "game" to the equation as well. Let's say that Jacob and Esau are god-like characters (not necessarily the Judeo-Christian God, but some sort of metaphysical beings), who are engaged in an eternal debate concerning the quality of humanity. To borrow the over-arching question of Battlestar Galactica -- Is humanity worth saving? Season 5's finale began with Esau stating, "They come, fight, they destroy, they corrupt. It always ends the same." It refers to the cycle of destruction in humanity's history, and cyles are traceably mathematical in nature, so Esau could be representative of the Valenzetti Equation. He predicts and awaits for humankind of destroy itself. (I will ignore, for now, what the loophole is and why Esau is intent on killing Jacob. Perhaps Esau isn't interested in saving humanity.) Jacob's duty, therefore, is to prove to Esau that humanity is worth saving -- that the outcome of the equation/cycle can be changed -- by choosing randomly selected individuals to represent the human race.
The random selection is important. Sure, Jacob could have chosen Buddhist monks or philanthropists to come to the island, but the point is that humanity is flawed. Our heroes are flawed. Our heroes make mistakes. Our heroes are not incredibly intelligent. They are average people who are conflicted between their hearts and their heads, between doing what is right and doing what is necessary. And as Daniel Faraday mentioned before he died, our characters are the variables. Not variables in time travel, but variables in the equation. Faraday noted that free will is what changes the course of history. Our heroes were chosen to save humanity through their choices.
In the finale, Jacob is reading Flannery O'Connor's Everything that Rises Must Converge collection of short stories outside of the hospital where Locke's father pushes him out the window. Wikipedia describes the collection as follows:
In the story after which the work is titled, human weaknesses are exposed and important moral questions are explored through everyday situations. Critics view the story as a prime example of O’Connor’s literary skills and moral views. [...] Through irony, the blindness and ignorance of the characters are exposed. The title Everything That Rises Must Converge refers to an underlying religious message central to her work: aiming to expose the sinful nature of humanity that often goes unrecognized in the modern, secular world.
O'Connor is compassionate to her characters in that she gives them the opportunity of receiving grace, however devastating that might be to their fragile self-images, as well as their fragile mortal frames, for in O'Connor, grace often comes at the moment of grisly death.
In a letter written to Winifred McCarthy, Flannery O'Connor writes, "There is a moment in every great story in which the presence of grace can be felt as it waits to be accepted or rejected, even though the reader may not recognize this moment." [...] Critic Carter W. Martin notes, "Most of the short stories are constructed in such a way as to dramatize the sinfulness and the need for grace..." and goes on to delineate two different kinds of grace normally received by the characters: "prevenient grace-- which moves the will spontaneously, making it incline to God--and illuminating grace, by which God enlightens men to bring them nearer to eternal life." That is to say either a kind of spark that ignites a low smolder of realization, or full-blown revelation. Usually the character "recognizes his need for repentance and either accepts or ignores the opportunity.
In "The Incident: Part I and II," many of the characters have a moment of reaching grace -- hence the significance of Jacob's flashbacks. (Earlier I mentioned that I didn't like the flashbacks, but considering that Jacob was present for each character's moment of grace, I now appreciate their relevance to both the characters and the mythology of the show.) Kate promises to near steal again, but we all know that she chooses to rob a bank later in life (which leads to the death of her childhood friend). Sawyer's decision to write a letter to the man who killed his parents is thwarted by an inkless pen. Jacob gives him a new pen, allowing him the choice to continue writing the letter. A friend of the family tells young James Ford not to finish the letter, but we know that he chooses to finish it later. Locke is essentially killed by his father but is revived from Jacob's touch. This is the moment where Locke is given a second chance at life. He can go on being pathetic and miserable (a failed relationship, daddy issues, etc.) or he can choose a life of adventure. His infamous line -- "You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do" -- places the decisions of his life solely in his hands. Despite being in a wheelchair, he chooses to do a walk-about. When faced with killing his father, per Ben's instructions, Locke chooses to ask Sawyer to do it (which is arguably Sawyer's moment of choice as well). Sun and Jin, our resident couple of institutional love, get married and vow to honor and love one another. But we all know that Jin chooses to work and murder for Sun's father and that Sun chooses to have an extramarital affair. Their moment of grace comes through their separation in time. Three years after the time split, Sun and Jin refuse to let go of the idea of finding one another. (Love, my friends, love is what will save humanity.) With Jack and Hurley, they are both at a crossroads -- Jack with quitting his job and Hurley with being released from prison. They can continue moving forward, or they can change direction altogether. As Jacob points out to Hurley, he doesn't have to get on the Ajira flight. He could have chosen to walk away.
And most importantly, Ben has the choice to kill Jacob. Perhaps it is because Jacob knows how Ben will choose -- Ben does have quite the history of killing people (let's not forget about The Purge) -- that prompts him to tell Ben, "You? What about you?" He says it with such sadness, not because he knows that he is about to die but because Ben represents everything that is greedy and immoral about humanity. Ben could have walked away. But he didn't. He chose to kill Jacob, hence Esau's victory burial of Jacob in the fire.
The entire series of Lost has been about choices. Originally it was about the choices of Jack versus Locke, but when you consider all of the flashbacks throughout the series, it makes a lot of sense that these flashbacks serve to illustrate not simply the type of character each individual person is, but also how they come to make choices. What outside influencing factors help determine their path? What do they choose to ignore, what do they choose to embrace? And most importantly, how is their moment of grace significant to the Valenzetti Equation? Sawyer sacrificed himself by jumping out of the helicopter. Kate returned to the island to find Claire. Jack and Juliet, the rational characters, are willing to "reset" history for love. Charlie sacrificed himself for Desmond and the others. Michael died as a means of redeeming himself for leaving the island. A majority of these deeply flawed characters have already had their moment of grace, that moment where they undoubtedly answer the question -- Yes. Yes, humanity is worth saving.
Here's the second round of the TV season reviews...
30 Rock: Well, considering there's only been three episodes thus far... I always enjoy myself during this show. I think the characters are fantastically hyperreal and yet entirely relatable and understandable. But this show is great for it's sight gags (see clip above -- is that... a claw?) and it's one-line jokes (typically from Jack, Tracy, and Kenneth). Speaking of Kenneth, how great was this line: "I don't believe in hypotheticals. It's like lying to your brain." The goods: I loved Will Arnette in the premiere (but I missed the world's shortest robe). The Oprah guest stint was well played out -- but only because Liz Lemon was talking to who a 12-year-old who, due to her drugged out condition, made Lemon think she was sitting next to Oprah. So far, the best part of the season was a throw-away line from Jack. He mentioned that he met his assistant Jonathan while drugged out on a plane trip, and he thought he was actually sitting next to M. Night Shyamalan. The bads: Jenna's character still isn't fleshed out very well (though her "black walk" while singing The Wiz was hilarious).
Dexter: I'm just not into this show, and I can't believe Showtime ordered two more seasons. I can honestly say that I probably won't watch them. I'm getting annoyed with the (now) seasonal theme redundancy. Dexter-the-serial-killer finally finds someone who knows his secret and still loves him -- in Season 1 it was his brother, who he had to kill, and in Season 2 it was his girlfriend, who he also had to kill -- and now it's Miguel Prado, a blood-thirsty DA. Is there any doubt that Miguel will die at the end of the season? He's a bit too eager to kill, and I don't think that will sit well with Dexter. The goods: Michael C. Hall's performance is why you watch this show. The bads: The writers keep telling us that Dexter can't feel emotions -- as evidenced in most of Dexter voiceovers -- and yet Dexter had showcased genuine emotion on multiple occasions. Also, there's way too much drama with the supporting characters. They're supposed to be fun characters. Why is Deb's constant cursing no longer funny?
Eli Stone: Honestly, this is one of my favorite shows. I'm not religious, so I don't watch this show for the faith aspect. Season 1 was great in that it balanced between Eli lacking faith and needing science to explain his prophetic visions, and in Season 2, Sigourney Weaver played God's assistant (?) and told Eli that his visions are in fact from God, and this was pretty much accepted as fact because if Eli didn't have the visions then his brother Nate did. Johnny Lee Miller is so fantastic as the lead, and he's so engaging and interesting that I want to follow him. The other characters are getting better as well, especially Jordan and Taylor, neither of whom I cared for last season. But why is Maggie still here? She's beyond annoying. The goods: The building collapse episode was well done, and it allowed for a natural shift for Jordan to branch out into his own firm. I also loved this week's episode where Matt Dowd grew a conscience but couldn't handle it. "I like to sleep at night," he said, knowing full well what he was walking away from. The bads: Maggie. Maggie. And, at this point, everyone involved with Eli has experienced his visions directly, and yet, depending on what the narrative calls for, everyone seems to switch between believing him and calling him a crackpot. For me, I think only his brother Nate should believe him. Everyone else should be skeptical. Oh, and I don't like Maggie.
How I Met Your Mother: I have absolutely no idea how this show's doing. I didn't start watching until this season, and I'm a bit irked that we're so far along and we still haven't met the mother -- or if we have, it still isn't known to us, which means it's also not known to the main character's kids. The show's premise is about a guy telling his kids how he met their mother, when instead it should be called The History of My Adult Love-Life (And Your Mother's Involved Somewhere). I know that I should ignore that just enjoy the storylines, but then the writers should have made the storytelling a gimmick rather than the premise. At any rate, I enjoy all of the characters -- especially Barney, always Barney -- and the quotidian situations are usually relatable enough to be entertaining (like searching for the perfect hamburger). But I don't really care about these characters. My heart's not invested in any of them. And all comedies need their Ross and Rachel, their Pam and Jim. So why is the audience rooting for Ted and "Aunt Robin"? The goods: The jokes are extremely well written, and the deliveries are even better. The bads: Why are these characters stuck in a perpetual state of growing up without becoming adults?
Big Bang Theory: Everyone loves Sheldon and he's obviously the star of the show, but why aren't the supporting characters -- and the other main character, Leonard -- spotlighted more? I think this show really excels when things take place in the workplace as opposed to the apartments. The goods: I geek out over science talk, and any BSG reference automatically wins me over. Also, Sara Gilbert joined the cast and she's fantastic -- but why hasn't she been in more episodes? The bads: I'm not sure what happened between Penny and Leonard. They went on a date but it didn't work out, and yet Leonard still pines over her? They need to have more scenes together, alone. Lately Penny's had so many scenes with Sheldon (this week's episode pitted them against one another as the A-storyline) that I wonder if the writers are going to make them closer because Sheldon's the star of the show and Penny's the only female.
Desperate Housewives: The show is DEFINITELY better than last year, and the five-year leap forward helped. I mean, how much trouble can Wisteria Lane get into every year? But I have a hard time believing that Bree's daughter Danielle suddenly came and took her son back (what a ridiculously convenient way to get rid of a child on the set), and I don't think Gaby would forget how to style her hair just because she has two kids. Yes, she might not do her hair and makeup every day, but when she does go out, I would think she would go ALL out. And Gaby's fashion sense completely went out the window. If Gaby's strapped for cash, she's going to wear a t-shirt and jeans. She's not going to wear mismatched color schemes and layer clothes that shouldn't be layered. On the plus side, Susan's anti-relationship storyline was good (but now she's committing to what's-his-face and her character's losing edge again). The goods: Neal McDonough is fabulous, but why is Mrs. McCluskey his biggest foe? Also good is Bree's marriage trouble with Orson. It makes sense that they would have trouble adjusting to both Bree's newfound fame and Orson's post-prison life. The bads: So in that missing five-year span, Tom suffered a heart attack and is now going through his mid-life crisis, and yet he tells Lynette, who went through chemotherapy and lost her hair because of cancer, that she doesn't understand? Did he forget that his wife almost died? And why don't the housewives have scenes together anymore? No one goes over for drinks or to play cards anymore? The storylines are too isolated from one another.
As promised... my totally awesome opinions of the TV season thus far.
The Office: This show used to be my favorite show on television, but in all honesty, it's lacking something. It's lacking change. I appreciate that they're going forward with Pam and Jim (aka Jam, aka PB&J), and I think the writers are handling their relationship quite intelligently (see above clip for squeal-worthy perfection), but I don't understand why Angela, the uptight Christian, is cheating on Andy and stringing him along with false wedding plans. Also, where are spotlights on the other supporting characters -- Creed, Stanley, and Oscar? Meredith and Phyllis have had their moments to shine, but this season has been dominated by Holly Flax (the fantastic Amy Ryan, who should be brought back to the show at any cost). The goods: Michael's humanization, Holly's Yoda and beatbox impressions, Kelly's tapeworm (from "Weight Loss"), and the proposal, of course. The bads: The show is too episodic, and the storylines aren't paced out as well. The storylines are too divided -- Jam over here, Dwight and Andy and Angela (Dwangelandy?) over there, and Michael and Holly somewhere else. It's like Season 1 but without the freshness and innovation.
Chuck: I don't know if you've heard, but Fox is looking to add House to the Monday at 8pm lineup -- yes, opposite Chuck, Gossip Girl, Sarah Connor Chronicles, and CBS's Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother. As much as I enjoy these other shows (and I've watched House since the beginning -- minus the David Morse episodes), Chuck wins out. It is the smartest, funniest, and best written show on TV. It would be easy to dismiss this gem as light fluff (easy to do because it's hyperreal spy spoof comedy), but the characters are extremely well written and there are more jokes than you know what to do with. In fact, some of the best jokes are THROW AWAYS. Case in point, last week Lester says, "I was born ready," to which Jeff responds in the most brilliant deadpan, "I was born premature." The goods: This show does an excellent job of having Chuck's Buy More life mirror that of Chuck's spy world life. The smartest thing this show did was around episode 3 or 4, Chuck realizes he can't have a relationship with Sarah, his handler, and so he needs to stop pining after her. Of course, viewers are well aware that Sarah has feelings for him as well, but she also knows that he's correct. So now there's a sadness to Chuck and Sarah's relationship, but this show allows for 5 minutes (tops!) of sentimentality, and the rest is all fast-paced comedy. Also, the writers have been able to incorporate guest stars without their storylines undermining the show (ahem, I'm looking at you, 30 Rock). And lastly, Captain Awesome is completely deserving of his nickname. I love that guy. He could've been a one-note joke, but he really is just awesome. The bads: More John Casey (Adam Baldwin), please. Although, the Casey-Chuck kiss was just as fantastic as the Oscar-Michael Scott kiss.
Grey's Anatomy: This show is certainly back on track -- minus the surprise firing of Brooke Smith (can ABC be homophobic if their parent company Disney is pro-gay?) -- and the writing is much sharper. I absolutely loved the episode where Richard, the Chief, was upset that his hospital was ranked at #12 and vowed to get it (and his surgeons) back to #1 -- an obvious analogy for the way Grey's itself used to be #1 and then slipped to roughly the #10 spot. Luckily, after the first few episodes, Cristina finally told Meredith what everyone's being wanting to say ("Shut up about Derek already!"), and everything that annoyed me about last season is gone. No more Gizzie -- but without a physical relationship, can't these two still be friends? No more Derek's-a-good-guy -- because, let's be honest, he's sort of a jerk. No more Alex-the-softie. But I do find it odd that Izzie is JUST NOW coming to terms with Denny's death. She spent an entire episode crying on the bathroom floor, then had flings with both Alex and George, and THEN starts seeing Denny's ghost? I think the writers are pretending like Season 4 never happened. The goods: The writing is better. The storylines are more interesting. Bernedette Peters was involved in one of the most heartbreaking storylines: She and her two friends were in a car accident, but one friend suffered trauma and only has a 30 second memory break. She kept asking for her husband, who actually had died in the next ER. Her friends had to keep telling their friend that her husband had died... until Izzie finally smiled with tears in her eyes and said, "Yes, he's on his way. He's just around the corner." Such a good episode. The bads: Although I was not a fan of Callie and Erica together -- I didn't like the way the writers handled Callie's sexual fluidity, although I do understand the necessary juxtaposition to Erica's character -- I don't like how her character was dismissed. Also, I absolutely do not like Melissa George, who joins the show for a multi-episode arc as Meredith's old friend. (Also, Mary McDonnell of BSG fame is joining as a doctor with Asperger's... though, from what I've seen in the previews, I have a real problem with people taking her seriously as a surgeon. She looks completely spaced out.)
Bones: I was really irritated by the whole Zach's-the-apprentice-but-psych!-he-didn't-kill-anyone storyline, but now that that's wrapped up, I can focus on Booth and Bones. Cameron is also really growing on me, and there is a small part that wants her and Booth to sleep together again. Can't you picture them as casual sex partners? I sometimes have trouble with how separated from reality they write Bones to be -- she doesn't know the difference between saying "put them on bail" and "bail them out"?? -- and I'm also wary of the episodes where Bones and Booth are the comical characters, but tonight's episode, "The Con Man in the Meth Lab," was so pitch-perfect that I'm willing to excuse the other episodes. Booth is guarded and protective of his brother... Bones doesn't understand the psychology of guardedness and passes it off as a hierarchical alpha male thing... then Bones learns a little more about Booth (through evidence, of course), and at the very end, the episode closes on Booth's line: "My father drank." No justification. No opening about it. No story. Just a matter of fact statement. So perfect. Although I love me some PB&J, Booth and Bones are my favorite TV couple -- the actors are naturalistic around one another, and their dialogue is completely believable. The goods: I'm especially enjoying the inclusion of Dr. Sweets this season, and the fact that Booth and Bones don't listen to his profiling advice is just hilarious. I'm also enjoying the rotation of graduate assistants, though I do prefer the guy who rolls his eye whenever anyone talks about anything personal. The bads: I hated the episode where Bones dated two men. Seriously, a grown woman couldn't rationalize on her own why dating two men wouldn't work? I also thought Hodge and Angela's breakup was artificial -- I even forget why they broke up -- though I do enjoy their post-relationship attempts at working together.
House: I loved the way the season started because I really needed to understand why in the world Wilson was friends with House. He's a misanthropic jerk who always put his entertainment before the betterment of others, including Wilson, so I needed the funeral episode in order to appreciate their friendship and how they work together. I also loved the private eye, Lucas, and would love to have him back on the show. He was like House's conscience, but much hornier and funnier. I still can't stand Thirteen and feel like she's more of a gimmick than an actual character, which is a shame because I like the actress, Olivia Wilde. I didn't care about Cameron or Chase -- until this Tuesday's episode where I realized how well Cameron's incessant goodness was a perfect recurring obstacle for House's amoral methods. His new peons are just boring and don't stand up to House. And shouldn't Foreman be doing more? But yes, the kiss between House and Cuddy... it was a long time coming, and I'm one of the few people who really loved how it unfolded. House would never kiss Cuddy. Cuddy would never kiss House. It had to happen when both of them were vulnerable. It had to be awkward and uncomfortable. Were people really hoping for a romantic kiss? And the writers developed the post-kiss reactions very realistically. House would never ring Cuddy's doorbell and admit his feelings. (Though I feel bad for Wilson -- he was serious when he talked about always having feelings for Cuddy, wasn't he?) And Cuddy would shrug it off and assume that House & Wilson would be playing games with her (she wasn't entirely wrong). The goods: House is developing as a character. He's not necessarily progressing to being a better human being -- as he was with his ex-wife Stacey -- but he is developing into a three-dimensional misanthrope. I like Wilson more now, especially post-Amber. I do miss Amber. She was an interesting antagonist for House. The bads: Seriously, I can do without Chase, Cameron, Foreman, Taub, Thirteen, and... Kal Penn's character. What's his name? Doesn't matter. They're boring. They're all boring.
The Mentalist: The episodes are still not as perfect as the premiere, but dang, I love Simon Baker and Robin Tunney on this show. This last Tuesday's episode was particularly amusing. Patrick bought everyone gifts with money he won at Black Jack (where he counted cards), and even though the girls gave back their jewelry and the guys noted how ugly their watches were, the guys wore those watches the entire episode. Yay, continuity! I also like this show because the red herrings are actually good, and everyone's suspicious of committing the crime for different reasons. Sometimes they look at Patrick weird, and he knows they did it. Other times, they do or say something, and Patrick knows. So as the audience, we never know what he picks up on. I do try to figure out the ending, but not too hard because I do like for the narrative to unfold before me. (I ruined The Prestige for myself by figuring most of it out by the end. That's what I get for being an active audience member...) The goods: Simon Baker and Robin Tunney? Yes? Also, the episodes have enough heart and humor to help me through. I tend not to like procedural shows (other than House and Bones, and even then I have difficulty with them sometimes) because they're so formulaic. And The Mentalist is definitely formulaic, but Baker is so hypnotic that you completely believe that he is a psychic and a master of psychology. Also, the supporting characters have just enough to do to keep me interested in them. I don't think any of them should be spotlighted any time soon; I definitely appreciate the one-line quips they provide. They support the structure of how their group is organized. The bads: The other female character (don't remember her name) irks me a bit, but I can't pinpoint why. And the episodes are uneven in their storytelling. I don't think that the show casts the killers very well...
Entertainment Weekly has created a list the 24 smartest tv/movie characters. There are the obvious (Temperance Brennan from Bones, Dr. House from House, and Will Hunting from, well, you know) but some interesting choices include Adrian Monk (Monk), Doc Emmett Brown (Back to the Future, the ultimate absent-minded professor), and Jamal Wallace (Finding Forrester, such an underrated film).
My favorite on the list: Leonard and Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. I would never be friends with Sheldon in real life -- he's kind of mean -- but conversations with him would be amazing (like his problem with teleportation, for example).
Sadly the gallery lacks many female characters. I think there's 4-5 out of 24. And Gabrielle from High School Musical is one of those. Hmm... what about sensical characters? There's book smarts and then there's street smarts. Intelligence does not necessarily mean Doogie Howser. It could mean Leela from Futurama or Liz Lemon from 30 Rock.
I want to like the list (simply for existing), but I think EW is using a very limiting definition of "intelligent." Who is missing from this list? Would it be cheating if I were to put a real person on the list, like Julia Robert's title role from Erin Brokovich?
TO: EDITORS OF ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: Sirs, if I wanted to read a magazine with random portions in reviews in bold to emphasize their importance and which begins each review section with large print telling you what's reviewed, which reduces substantial story to purportedly user-friendly infographics that actually convey no information, and which relegates the George Carlin memorial (by Chris Rock no less!) to way in the back of the book in the "TV" section, rather than with the rest of the "married/birth/engaged" materials, I'd read Us Weekly or People. Please give me back my EW. Thanks.
Ha, I wrote EW a similar email (which might be published, whoo!), although mine was much meaner and called them the Cliff's Notes of entertainment magazines. I'm glad I'm not the only one that recognizes EW is supporting the dumbing down of American readers. Seriously, what is the point of forcing me to skim three-paragraph articles?
I'm a bit fuzzy about the biological makeup of Cylons and, more importantly, how they were created. And I'm sure that this will all be answered in the spin-off Caprica, but I have these questions now... so if anyone has any answers, I'd appreciate it.
1. Who created the skinjobs? Was it the centurions, or was there a human helping them evolve? Or was there a mediator race, created by man but who then revolted and developed the seven skinjobs? Specifically, I'm wondering if the Final Five were the original Cylon skinjobs who created the other seven models... 2. So Cylons have fully functional reproductive organs? Tyrol has functioning sperm... Athena has functioning eggs... how can synthetic sperm/eggs function? 3. How is Tigh able to reproduce with Caprica Six? Do the Cylon reproductive rules not apply to him (perhaps because his DNA makeup is different from the other seven models?), or was the Cylon-on-Cylon baby created through Love still, since Tigh thought he was having relations with Ellen? 4. How would the seven models not know who the other five are? And why wouldn't they be able to talk about them? It seems like the Cylons have a mysterious creator that is even mysterious to them... and it's not God. It's someone that programmed them to be a certain way (such as a human creator modeling them after 12 archetypal characters). 5. Why isn't there another evolution of models? Why procreate naturally? Why is there this pressure, this insistence on naturally having children? What's wrong with the Cylons continuing to evolve, to enhance and improve their race? 6. Where did the Cylons get their concept of God? Again, possibly from a human creator? And if there is a human creator, how did the creator know to have so many resurrection ships? There's hundreds of thousands of Cylons. Was the creator planning on Cylons being the next evolution of man - a la the Übermensch from Thus Spake Zarathustra? 7. Oh... and how can Tigh be as old as he is and still be a Cylon? I mean, he fought in the first Cylon War... before they went away and evolved, before they were anything but toasters.
Battlestar is a pretty consistent show, despite things being fleshed out as the narrative progresses (like in Season 1, the writers didn't know until halfway through that Sharon was seeking out Helo on Caprica in order to produce a child). But that's just as well; in fact, I prefer the writers to not know (unless, of course, we're talking about Lost - I'm bitter, get over it). The writers have developed the stories with the characters and in conjunction with the characters' developments. It's a circular way of writing that I appreciate, rather than a "Here is the plot, so this character has to say this line of exposition, even though it's entirely uncharacteristic of them." And because the show is so consistent, I have faith in Ron Moore and the writers, in their intelligence, in their ability to fully create an imaginary world. (I know they have the answers to my questions.) If there are holes, they will be minor ones.
I don't mind waiting for the answers... but it doesn't mean I won't still wonder about the full mechanics of Cylon birth and resurrection...
I have been a fan of Lost since Season 1, and I have done my fair share of recruiting other fans under the assurance that Lost was the greatest show on television. Unfortunately, you have lost that title to Battlestar Galactica (a title that previously belonged to Firefly). Season 1 showcased a wonderful display of contemporary binaries - faith vs. logic, leader vs. follower, male vs. female, passive vs. aggressive - and the characters were more realistic (which is ironic considering the characters had very little background in the beginning, a tabula rasa indeed). Whereas Season 1 dealt with the reconstruction of a civilized society (focusing primarily on self-assigned identity vs. culturally-defined identity - via Kate the Fugitive and Locke the Disabled), Season 2 focused on the protection of that society, giving the Losties a newfound 'togetherness' (as a single entity rather than individuals with specific archetypal duties) that was lacking during the reconstruction. Season 3 lost a lot of fans, but I stuck around because Michael Emerson is so frakkin' amazing and because it introduced the idea of time-travel through Desmond's clairvoyance. But Season 4 completely disregarded all that was set up in previous seasons... and here are the specific problems I have with the show:
Every week, Lost has a slow-motion-instrumental-music-no-talking scene. These three aspects loudly signify that the audience should be crying, and this method is used whenever someone leaves the Losties (Season 1 finale on the raft), returns or reunites with someone (seen often, but most recently used when the Oceanic 6 are reunited with their families), or someone dies (ha, so many to name... but Charlie's death stands out). Peter Jackson overused this cinematic technique in all LotR films, and now Lost is bludgeoning the technique. Why not use a close-up of a character, showcasing raw emotion (total despair or complete jubilation - which you only seem to execute with scenes regarding Desmond's relationship with Penny...)? I find it hard to believe that every character is happy/excited/sad/scared at the same time. Take the time to isolate certain characters during 'big' scenes like these. And get rid of the slow motion. Don't tell me to be sad... make me feel sad by honest development. No more tricks.
2. Does curiosity not exist on the island anymore?
Ben says the Orchid Station involves 'time-traveling bunnies' and Locke just says okey-dokey? The orientation video says not to put metal in the machine and Locke just (barely) mutters, 'Uh, huh, maybe you shouldn't do that...'? Really, Locke is going to be the new leader of the Others? He's not much of a leader. (And no, shooting Naomi on such little evidence does not make him a leader.) This aspect of the show has bothered me since the Losties met the Others back in Season 2 and Jack didn't ask Mr. Friendly any questions. No 'Who are you and what the heck is this place?' No 'How convenient that you speak English too!' It just seems like situations arrive and no one investigates. People know that something is amiss or that people are acting shady, but no one actually verbalizes anything. I really doubt that people would be so internal and quiet about their concerns. Kate goes to Jack with her concerns and he ignores her... so why doesn't she turn to someone else? Why are there 14 major characters and only half of them do anything? Bernard was given a gun last season; why isn't he asking questions? 'If Rose is happy here, then so am I' is fine (and romantic), but it doesn't mean he can't ask questions. Have people become accustomed to the Smoke Monster? Just because a few of the characters have seen it doesn't mean that the other characters are no longer curious about it. And I know you guys understand this problem because you use Hurley to wink at the audience. Like when Ben tells Locke's camp that Michael is his spy on the boat - Hurley says, "Yeah, we knew a while ago, dude.' That doesn't fix the problem. Hurley brings up major questions and just accepts a change of subject? Unacceptable.
3. The dialogue is remarkably unrealistic.
Why aren't people more upset about the deaths on the island? People hated Michael for killing Ana Lucia and Libby, okay, but upon seeing Michael again, no one thought he would kill them too? Michael set sail in a boat with his kid; why wouldn't the characters assume he was a bad person with flexible morals? In my opinion, Ben is the only character allowed to be vague. As a fugitive, I would understand Kate being secretive or talking in lies, but she doesn't and she's too in people's faces to be as passive as she is. Ana Lucia is the character Kate should have been. (FYI: I think Kate is the worst written character, the most inconsistent, and the most annoying... but that's an entire post on its own.) So Ben can be vague to Jack or Sawyer or Hurley or whoever... but not Locke! Locke is his successor so leaving out the back door without so much as crumbs is ridiculous. Jack - the only person to ever show concern for sustainability on the island - abandoned his original purpose by saying, 'Whatever Juliet says, I believe her.' Okay, trust is great and the friendship is sweet, but Jack can trust Juliet and still ask, 'Why were Charlotte and Daniel trying to gas us/save us?'
And how is Sawyer so knowledgeable? He makes wonderful cultural references that are fun to spot, but it remains to be understood how he knows so much - like, why would/when did he read Of Mice and Men? Was literary intelligence part of his training in the Art of Con? Why does Kate only say things that further the plot? Why doesn't she talk like a normal person having a conversation? The last time I saw a realistic conversation on the island was revolving Jin-Sun-Michael. It made sense that Michael's friendship with Sun would be misinterpreted as flirtation by her husband, his jealousy (and subsequent fighting) was justified. But when was the last time the characters were fleshed out so well? Now, I understand that the show is not entirely realistic - time travel, anyone? - but the characters are set up to be realistic, and so, even if their situations aren't realistic, they should at least have realistic dialogue. Instead, I feel as though the storyboard gets multiple rewrites and the dialogue passes on first drafts.
4. The Jack-Sawyer Switcharoo.
Jack and Sawyer switched roles. In the beginning, Jack was the leader (though not self-appointed) who put others before himself, and Sawyer was the jerk who made Kate kiss him if she wanted to know where Shannon's asthma medicine was. Am I to believe that Kate changed these men a full 180 degrees? Now, Jack is the guy who will do anything to get off the island and is blinded by his love for Kate, and Sawyer is jumping out of helicopters and protecting Claire? I'm not saying it doesn't make sense, because it does; it's understandable that these characters would grow in these directions. I just don't understand why it happened. It makes sense that Jack would be so overwhelmed by his leader status that he would eventually become selfish... but he's still not selfish. He's just narrowly concerned about certain people. Because the show set up a close bond between Jack and Juliet, I thought those two would scheme on their own... but they haven't and they won't. Why set that up if it wasn't going to develop? (And why, in the future/present, does Jack want to go back to the island? Because of guilt? Because he sees the ghost of his father? Jack just isn't the type to break down... so they better develop that rather than just lazily assigning his breakdown to visions and guilt.) And it makes sense that Sawyer would become protective of Freckles, but Claire? He never had a close relationship with her, with Aaron, or with Charlie. (Speaking of Charlie, why was Hurley all of a sudden Charlie's BFF? Why didn't Desmond, who was the last person Charlie communicated with (big moment!), speak up after his death? Desmond was silent the whole Season 4 premiere.) Sawyer has always been a loner hero - but in a confident, arrogant, insecure kind of way. He didn't want others to help him because of his pride. But there was no reason for him to all of a sudden take Claire under his wing.
5. The Laziest Use of Freud and Philosophy.
It's not just that everyone has daddy issues - Hurley, Claire, Jack, Kate, Ben, Sun, Locke, and Sawyer - but it's that 'daddy issues' is the explanation for why these characters act like they do. It's as though the writers read Ch. 22 of Idiot's Guide to Psychology and based a MAJORITY of the characters off of ONE psychology term. Why can't a character just have a fear of intimacy? Why does that have to relate back to a missing father? Why can't a character just be arrogant and reclusive? Why does it have to be because his father was killed? Why can't a man just want to be a better man? Why does it have to relate back to his father challenging him rigorously? And at the beginning, the use of philosopher's names was cute (and it made sense because of how influential The Social Contract/noble savage and The Two Treatises of Government/human nature were) - and I felt intelligent for knowing who each of them were - BUT now it's just ridiculous. Rousseau and Locke were obvious but they were only two at the beginning. But then came Desmond David Hume? Jeremy Bentham? Mikhail Bakunin? And most of the time the characters don't relate to the names, or, if they do, it's a limited relation. And what's even the point of changing Locke's name to Bentham? Just to confuse the audience? Just to throw them off? It's just lazy. The characters can be summed up as "So-and-so is that way because of Daddy Issues..." and the use of philosophers is officially overkill.
I highly recommend reading the article "The Truth Alone Will Not Set You Free" by Mark Hedges, regarding the destruction and replacement of American culture with mass, corporate culture ("junk culture") and the repercussions of this shift. Below are some highlights.
The emergence of corporate and government public relations, which drew on the studies of mass psychology by Sigmund Freud and others after World War I, found its bible in Walter Lippmann’s book “Public Opinion,” a manual for the power elite’s shaping of popular sentiments. Lippmann argued that the key to leadership in the modern age would depend on the ability to manipulate “symbols which assemble emotions after they have been detached from their ideas.” The public mind could be mastered, he wrote, through an “intensification of feeling and a degradation of significance.”
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