“We cannot have a society in which some dictator can start imposing censorship here in the United States, because if someone is going to intimidate someone from releasing a satirical movie, imagine what would happen if they see a documentary they don’t like, or news they don’t like,” the President added, expressing concern for the idea that some movie producers might fall victim to “self-censorship” to avoid angering another country. . . “That’s not who we are and that’s not what America is about,” Obama continued.
Ars Technica: Obama thinks Sony “made a mistake” pulling The Interview after hack
My understanding is that it was the theater owners who initially pulled the film, not Sony, but the point still stands. I can understand them being skittish after what happened in Denver, but come on. If there was an attack being staged large enough to attack multiple theaters in multiple cities simultaneously, I’m confident the federal authorities would have picked up on it way before that would have been executed. Regardless of who actually pulled off the hack and made the threat, the theater owners completely caved to an anonymous, baseless threat, plain and simple. We’ll be feeling the implications from this for years to come.
Sony has a chance to redeem their industry by using their own, and other, channels to distribute the film, but that redemption is timed. Time heals all wounds, which means there will come a point in time when releasing the film just won’t matter, but that would be a very muted showing of our resilience. The big “fuck you” would be to at least release the film digitally through as many distribution channels before the end of the year. The wheels of big corporations tend to move slow, but I’m sure if Sony’s CEO were to pick up the phone and call the CEOs of Netflix, Apple, and Google, this movie would be out within a matter of days.
You can’t fault Jackson for his physical world-building. The attention to detail—every set, every special effect, every prop and suit of armor and ruined town, every last smoldering candlestick and dragon scale—is unparalleled. Middle-earth feels real. But in these Hobbit movies, the more important thing to get right is situational realism: How the plot turns, what the characters do, if they move through space in a believable way. All this is thrown out the door. The sincerity of Thorin and Bilbo’s struggles is completely undermined by the story’s blanket disregard for physics, logic, and credibility. Gone into the ether is Tolkien’s gentle, thoughtful, and more plausible children’s tale.
Wired: Peter Jackson Must Be Stopped
So, let’s get this straight: a director pulls together a killer trilogy of films that strikes a cultural chord, but then later does a series prequel that is, as far as I can tell, universally maligned, mainly for its reliance on stunning special effects to make up for a crap story. That sounds familiar. I haven’t seen the Hobbit films, despite my being a huge fan of the Lord of the Rings film trilogy. I finished the movies before I ever read the books, but once I finished the books, I could see a place for both the original texts and the films. They pair well to me, and if I remember correctly that was the general consensus; the edits made to the original Lord of the Rings books to make them fit film were, for the most part, reasonable. Based on everything—everything—I have read about the Hobbit films, that is most certainly not the case. The story is, as they say, the thing. The Hobbit films lack a good story in spite of the quality of its source material and its special effects, and fandom pretty much hates it. This should come as a surprise to no one.
Maybe once I am finished with school I will be less guarded with my time, but for now this is good to know that I’m not missing much so that I may use my time more wisely. Maybe I’ll read The Hobbit during break.
We recently had to buy a new car. I say “had to” because the one we were driving at the time was twelve years old and had 185,000 miles on it. A lot of little things weren’t working. The engine itself—block, pistons, and transmission—was fine, which I’ve had more than one mechanic say if the engine is fine then the car is maintainable; everything else can be replaced or really isn’t necessary to getting from one place to the next, but if the block, pistons, or transmission get damaged, selling it for parts or trading it in for a new one is far easier than replacing the block. Sure, you ostensibly pay more in payments than in repairs, but then at least you know that you have reliable transportation. Since all this was coming from my mechanics over the years, I’ve had a hard time even attempting to refute the logic.
But over the last couple of years a lot of little things were going wrong, and driving our old car was a death by a thousand cuts. The driver-side sunshade decided it wouldn’t stay in the roof any more; the keyless entry stopped working entirely, we had to manually manipulate all the locks; and the A/C stopped working altogether. When we saw the cost to replace the struts and repair the A/C, we decided buying a new car was the cheaper option, at least for the first year, but easier in terms of convenience over the long term. Good enough reason as any since we felt we had successfully continued our long tradition of driving our cars into the ground.
When we were coming to the realization that we were going to have to buy a new car in the next six months, I had already heard about the 129 Cars episode on This American Life, and grabbed it off of iTunes for 99¢. Since then I must have listened to it a hundred times. This quote, and you really have to hear the delivery, cracks me up every time:
A customer says they’re not ready to buy a car. Let’s go over it again. They’re at a car dealership. They got in their car, drove through hell to get here, looked for a parking spot for ten minutes, parked, got out of the car and walked into a car dealer. Not because the coffee’s good, we went over this, because the coffee here’s not good. They came here because we sell cars and they want to buy one.
There was a lot of useful information in there that, while not directly applicable, altered our approach such that we were able to have much more reasonable time purchasing the car. In talking with people each car company and each dealership all have their own ways of doing things. But that quote, I think, comprehensively framed our mindset walking into the dealership. They didn’t need to know that our current car was falling apart, but we didn’t waste their time and ours deluding ourselves or them that we were “just looking.” They know we were in the market for a new car, but they also knew—because we told them—we were weighing our options in what they knew to be a competitive market. I won’t go into the details, but suffice to say we were not hostile in any way, and ended up with a great deal without a lot of hassle.
If you are in the market to buy a new car, I highly suggest listening to that episode a few times to catch all the details. I still listen to it from time to time if only to hear that quote. I have found it immensely useful in other areas as well—washers, dryers, refrigerators, furniture, and anything else that requires a salesman to coordinate the purchase. Unless you are in the washer business, you are not “just looking.”
I tend to read a lot about morticians (for some reason that I have yet to surmise), and this one of the best articles I’ve ever read on the topic because it captures perfectly both “sides,” if you will, of morticians and non-morticians:
Of course, we like to keep our distance in this way, which is why we pay the death fairies to take care of it. Americans don’t like to talk about the inevitable: Our screens are filled with zombies, and yet speaking frankly about death is seen as “morbid” or “unhealthy.” Surely the recent Ebola panic is a product of this repression, a way of turning our own mortality into a foreign threat, an illegal immigrant landing on our shores. Death is embarrassing to us, even a bit unpatriotic. I’ve discovered this about my own fear of extinction. When I bring it up, people tend to shift in their chairs, as if holding in a fart. A look of impatience crosses their faces. Just as often, too, they can’t understand what the hell I’m talking about.
Death Becomes Him: Confessions of a Mortician
There’s so much I could quote, and I don’t want to ruin it, but this paragraph really struck a nerve:
I switched on the TV. Game of Thrones, which I’d never seen before, was on. It was some grim and pretentious business. A bunch of bearded dudes were trapped inside a castle, waiting to be slaughtered. Mostly they walked around muttering about how scared they were. Before long the bad guys, a motley crew that seemed to include giants and woolly mammoths, stormed the castle and began to bash people’s heads in like watermelons. Normally I was hardened to this sort of stuff — who could go to the movies these days without seeing the insides of someone’s head? — but now I felt like I might actually throw up. What did it mean that this was one of the most popular shows in America? Why did we need our death porn and our sealed caskets, too?
I’ve never seen Game of Thrones, and based on what I’ve heard I have no interest in it either. I’ve been involved in some kind of medical publishing my entire career. Horror and gore in TV and movies really doesn’t do anything for me anymore. If anything, I find “death porn” confusing.
Matt Reeves says that the plan isn’t ever to “remake” The Planet of the Apes, but to do something more reboot-ish…
io9.com: What Could Another Planet of the Apes Remake Look Like?
New rule: Anytime a Hollywood executive uses the words “another…remake” in a sentence, even speculatively, needs to be immediately stripped of their decision-making authority.
I’m “iffy” on reboots. There is bias on my part in that I really only care about those franchises I like, and I never really cared for Planet of the Apes. Then there are those rare franchises that lend themselves to “reboots,” like the James Bond series. And let’s be clear: “reboot” is just a fancier term for “remake,” like “pre-owned vehicle” is just a fancier term for “used car.”
Either way, given the current prevalence of remakes and reboots, is Hollywood really so starved for new ideas that this is the new norm?
To support my claim that Hollywood no longer has any original ideas, I offer the infamous “Enhance” video:
Clearly, this problem has been around for long time given the mullet seen in one of the source videos, but progressively gotten worse over time.
(MyFoxBoston.com) — We are sorry that our viewers that subscribe to Verizon FiOS have lost access to FOX 25.
By law, FOX 25 must negotiate carriage agreements with cable companies like Verizon FiOS. Usually, these deals are reached without any disruption to your service. In fact, our company has negotiated dozens of agreements with only the rarest of disruptions. Unfortunately, so far,Verizon FiOS has refused to reach a fair, market-based deal to carry FOX 25. Our existing agreement with Verizon FiOS has expired, and we cannot provide Verizon FiOS customers with live access to their favorite FOX programs until a new deal is reached.
I’ll always concede there are two sides to every story, but as for “valuable programming” not so much. Television is crap. We all know it, including the networks. Yes, I watch Masterchef on Fox, but I don’t work my schedule around watching a show. No gaping hole in my schedule left here to ponder. So, sorry, guys. That free market can be a real bitch sometimes, eh? Good luck and maybe I’ll see you on the flip side.
SCENE: 06:30, Saturday Morning
Daughter: Daddy, let’s play a game!
Me: How about “Daddy Drinks Coffee?” That’s a game we could play. I’m playing it right now, actually.
Daughter: Daddy! [Laughs] That’s not a game!
Me: You’re right. It’s not a game; Daddy must have his coffee every day.
Me: How about we play Minecraft?