Can a Rebel Stay a Rebel Without the Claws?

LINK

I found this article ridiculously informing on Shepard Fairey, the artist of a some really prolific contemporary works of art. Ever wonder who painted the original Obama poster you saw everywhere? That's this guy. Really interesting article, too bad they're turning him into a commodity.

Dan Deacon's Bromst!

Link!

This review by Nitsuh Abebe of insane electronic Dan Deacon seemed particularly interesting to me because of Nisuh's astounding ability to portray music artfully and accurately. He understands Deacon's music on a profound level, and his review contains beautifully detailed descriptions of Bromst's music, relation to his previous album, Spiderman of the Rings, some surprising information on Deacon's musical background, and the philosophy behind Deacon's tracks and press coverage.

His but is in the 4th paragraph, as he celebrates Deacon's shift in a different direction, and gives visceral substantiation to his opinions.

Final Project Revision: Famous Furious Faces

“Religulous”, Bill Maher’s satirical documentary on religion, released in 2008, is a frustrating film to watch. Yes, it’s very funny; yes, it makes a lot of good points, but there is something unmistakably vain, even Michael Moore-ish, about it. Throughout the film, Maher makes it clear that it is his sole duty, as an icon of anti-religion and a guiding voice of reason, to ramble around America and various biblical regions of the Middle East confronting passers-by and interviewing figurehead officials to argue them into corners on their faith, riding from one stumped expression to the next. The documentary is laden with Maher monologuing about himself and his steadfast dedication to denouncing religion, clips of his standup routines, and even chats with family members. He enjoys reveling in the fact that he’s miles above this whole crazy religion nonsense, and wants to place himself, as Al Gore did with Environmentalists, as the leader of an anti-religious movement, appointing himself instructor of the choir he’s preaching to. What’s exasperating about this is that Religulous’ message is, as the late George Carlin put it, “Religion is the greatest bullsh** story ever told,” yet Maher took this message, a camera crew, and a van, and made a massive ego-trip out of it, relying on his skill in satire and the sheer ridiculousness of fundamentalist Christians, Mormons, Jews, and Muslims for humor. This message is extremely important to any atheist, being the foundation of their non-belief, and Maher chose to send this message by lampooning simpleton fundamentalists. Yes, it is hilarious when a mosque attendant defends the gender-equality of his religion by pointing to the special corner of the mosque female Muslims get to pray in, but where is the humor in convincing a devout Texan truck driver that the ludicrous he has been fed since he was an infant is, in fact, ludicrous?
Somehow, it certainly does elicit laughter, at least from me. But qhy? Why was it so enjoyable to watch these people burn? I should hold no grudge against these people, my belief being that they are hopelessly misled, but their stalwart, brazen faith in something I consider to be wholly false makes them seem amusing and aggravating. I’m ashamed to put it in these absolute terms, but I hate these people and what they believe in, and so does Bill Maher, and therefore I felt compelled to watch him conquer these foolish believers.
This sentiment is what Maher built this entire documentary around, which is what made it, regrettably, satisfying. However, he did not venture into new ground, offer a unique perspective, or even do any real investigation; he really just drove around with a camera crew trying to convince people their indoctrinated beliefs are false. His method of presentation in this documentary shifts back and forth from this intellectual terrorism on poor targets to big preachy speeches where Maher saunters towards the camera relating his anti-theistic sermon with verve as clips of Al Queda and the KKK flash by. After the third of these high-production value close-ups, one might wonder, “Where are his Bono glasses? Where is his donation speech?” Before long, the viewer has been sitting through more than an hour of Maher taking apart easy targets and reciting anecdotes of his personal stories of religious disillusionment. As the credibility and potency of this documentary begin to fall to his incessant vanity, an unsettling fact begins to rise to the surface, much like a severed finger in a baptismal font.
Bill Maher is a self-Proclaimed Libertarian, has remained unmarried for 53 years, either solely for anti-religious principles or because the porn stars and strippers he dates are more interested in filing lawsuits against him than in settling down with him, and has a habit of making uproariously bad decisions on his talk-shows, one of these taking him off the air. His lifestyle choices are comparable to those of Jimmy Swaggart. In all honesty, Bill Maher is an extremist, and Religulous is essentially a denunciation of religious extremists of every color, race, and, creed. Nothing like sitting through a straight hour and 20 minutes of hypocrisy.
And yet, Maher has a massive following that apparently lauds an Atheistic (or “apatheistic”) extremist for condemning religious extremists. What does this say about our culture? It says that a majority of the people of their own particular atheistic/agnostic persuasion that watch Bill Maher gallivanting about are frighteningly similar to Pentecostal evangelists watching Benny Hinn they despise so intensely. It wouldn’t matter if people supported the humane treatment of animals or the slaughtering of the Shiites; all we need is a famous, furious face who endorses our own beliefs to an absurd extent and who makes a very big deal out of condemning those who don’t share our particular beliefs and we’ll follow them to the ends of the earth. Think about it. How easy is it to tune into the Colbert Report and get gleefully lost in that ridiculous, caustic and superbly witty personality? It’s pleasurable to let these ostentatious personalities do all the talking and lead us, their loyal devotees, from campaign to campaign. Yes, some of these celebrated pundits provide a useful critical service in the media, but it doesn’t exactly take much to criticize fundamentalists, and Bill Maher needs to understand both that he is unfit for this job and that this service isn’t useful or constructive in any way, shape or form. He is not the anti-messiah and should not be, regardless of how many ways he can make a “Jew for Jesus” squirm under his self-assured smirk.

Kalamazoo’s winter plays prove Durang absurd, Mamet mallard-dramatic

Those who entered the dungeon theatre on Friday night at 9pm were treated to a pair of intriguing one-act plays, David Mamet’s “The Duck Variations,” directed by Terry Cangelosi, and Chris Durang’s “Sister Mary Ignatius Explains it All for You,” directed by Sarah Ludwinski. Starting with “Duck Variations,” An old man, sporting a cane and clad in plaid pantaloons, hobbles onto a stage reminiscent of Central Park to take a seat on a quaint park bench. Another gray-haired man arrives at the same bench, and the two shake hands in greeting. The two then begin to ruminate about the world around them, meandering about the stage exchanging insights on subjects such as sailboats and the lives of waterfowl, rife with allegory. They share moments of blooming friendship, growing tension, good nature and steadfast principle in genuine elderly dialect. Cangelosi certainly understood how to portray the quick wit and foggy memory of these two characters, and the student actors reflected these roles with skill, humor, and sincerity. However, this conversation holds little structure. A one-act dialogue play should balance the spontaneity of a natural conversation with the careful structure of a good script, yet their conversation seems to meander as much as they do about the stage. They discuss the natural relationships between ducks, herons, and pigeons, how death is a part of a duck’s life, and how some ducks learn to fly earlier than others, yet the allegory seems to have no overarching goal; they merely bring subjects up as they come to mind. While this lack of structure effectively demonstrates the nature of everyday conversation, one cannot help but wonder why they sat in the dark for 45 minutes to see old men have an everyday conversation about ducks.
Sister Mary Ignatius is pleasingly contrary to “duck variations,” opening with “Mouse” Courtois robed in full nun’s habit, rapping a diagram of the various levels of the afterlife with a ruler while explaining the complex conditions required to enter them upon death. She then reads from a set of notecard questions the “class” submitted (making sure to ominously skip the “if god is all-powerful, why does he allow evil in the world?” question with an angry eyebrow to the audience). Her monologue veers pointedly preposterous almost instantly, and the audience laughs time and again at these utter absurdities that nearly half our nation believes. Courtois takes on the mannerisms of the catholic nun surprisingly well, the peculiar intonations and inflections of this strange species flowing from her pursed lips like holy water. Her 7-year old minion, Jillian Reese, is hilariously apt as well, trotting onto stage to answer catechism questions and be rewarded with cookies from Sister Ignatius, much like a trained dolphin would be rewarded a fish. A few slightly disturbed graduates of Sister Ignatius’ tutelage enter midway through the play and put on excellent performances.
While Sister Mary Ignatius is truly hilarious at the beginning, it turns out to be absurdist anti-catholic propaganda, and at this point the production feels like a play set in a generation where atheism had just begun to be popular, and I can’t decide whether to write this off as another playwright’s coming to terms with religion or as something doubtful Christians should see.

A Criticism of Satire

Religulous, Bill Maher’s new religiously-satirical documentary, released in 2008, is a frustrating film to watch. Yes, it’s very funny, yes, it makes a lot of good points, but there is something unmistakably “al gore-ish” about it. Throughout the film, Maher makes it undoubtedly clear that it is his sole duty, as an icon of anti-religion and guiding voice of reason, to ramble around southern America and various religiously-important regions of the Middle East confronting passers-by and interviewing figurehead officials to argue them into corners on their faith, riding from one stumped expression to the next. The documentary is laden with him monologuing about himself and his steadfast dedication to denouncing religion, clips of his standup routines, and even chats with family members. He enjoys reveling in the fact that he’s miles above this whole crazy religion nonsense, and wants to place himself, as Al Gore did with Environmentalists, as the leader of an anti-religious movement, appointing himself instructor of the choir he’s preaching to. What’s frustrating about this is that Religulous’ message is, as the late George Carlin put it, “Religion is the greatest bullsh** story ever told,” yet Maher took this message, a camera crew, and a van, and made a massive ego-trip out of it, relying on his skill in satire and the sheer ridiculousness of orthodox Christians, Mormons, Jews, and Muslims for humor. This message is extremely important to any atheist, being the foundation of their non-belief, and Maher chose to send this message by lampooning undereducated fundamentalists. Yes, it is hilarious when a mosque attendant defends the gender-equality of his religion by pointing to the special corner of the mosque female Muslims get to pray in, but I really don’t understand the humor in convincing a devout Texan truck driver that the ludicrous he has been fed since he was an infant is, in fact, ludicrous. But did I laugh? Yes. Why? Why is it so enjoyable to watch these people burn? I should hold no grudge against these people, my belief being that they are hopelessly misled, but their stalwart, brazen faith in something I consider to be wholly false makes them seem amusing and aggravating. I’m ashamed to put it in these absolute terms, but I hate these people and what they believe in, and so does Bill Maher. This sentiment is what Maher built this entire documentary around, which is what made it, regrettably, satisfying.
Religulous is a religious satire, through and through, and Maher chose to send his anti-religious message in an intensely satirical manner because satire has gained burgeoning popularity in American media, and examples abound. Shows like Family Guy and The Simpsons became famous for their vicious satirical nature, and each South Park episode is basically a venomous spoof of one or more current events. The writing of these shows is very well done, but they place a great amount of humor in this human craving for spite. People tune into the Daily show and the Colbert Report to watch these great intellects wipe the floor with the people they hate(or the people they hear they should hate to be trendy,) and many people replaced watching the news with these shows, deriving all their political knowledge from intensely liberal-satirical-news programs. The trend of “Bush-Bashing” is perhaps the most apt example of the nature of this contemporary fascination with satire; all ignorant, hateful people had to do was Photoshop Bush’s face into a picture with Bin Laden or state some ridiculous anti-bush claim on a forum and they could be considered hip (to some extent). Yes, Bush gave plenty of reasons for criticism, but one didn’t need to know exactly what it was that Bush was doing wrong to bash him; Bush-bashing was the popularization of ignorant, often baseless, hate in the guise of contemporary political satire.
The massive popularity of satire may elicit the question, “why do we enjoy satire so much?” Satire in the vein of South Park and Religulous is, in essence, the intellectual exploration of the emotion of hate. To reference a famous psychologist, Freud states that the individual must always struggle between Society (the refusal of their base instincts), and the desire to fulfill these instincts. Satire allows humankind to fulfill this primal instinct of hate in an intellectual fashion, and thus it is greatly satisfying.
Is this a good thing? Absolutely not. If the messages in many works of satire were instead given in a truthful, non-satirical fashion, their percolation could be far more successful; few orthodox Christians would have any reason to see a documentary like Religulous, whereas they would be understandably more inclined to participate in an unbiased exploration on the subjects of the film. Maher’s virulent odium of the religions he berates in his documentary is not unlike the loathing in the eyes of the Muslim extremists shouting anti-Semitic war cries in several clips of Religulous, and Maher should have realized this similarity in intention before he started on this documentary that endeavors to champion the use of educated human reason in the battle against orthodox religions. Hate is an emotion capable of unimaginable evil, and we must strive to avoid it in everything we do, whether our goal is to stop the teaching of creationism in schools or genocide.

And here I am ranting angrily about hate and satire. I probably should have used a few less adjectives, but there it is.

NYT Defense: Strangers in Japan’s Neon Wonderland

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/01/movies/01lim.html?pagewanted=1&ref=movies

For my New York Times defense, I chose to critique “Strangers in Japan’s Neon Wonderland,” by Dennis Lim. Dennis Lim writes about film and popular culture for various publications including The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, The Believer, The Oxford American, Blender, Spin, Espous, Indiewire, New York Daily News, and The Guardian. He’s also a member of the National Society of Film Critics and the editor of the Village Voice Film Guide (2006). “Strangers” is a review in last Wendesday’s NYT arts section on “Tokyo!” a triptych feature by directors Michele Gondry, Bong Joon-ho, and Leos Carax about life in 21st Century Tokyo.
Lim’s review of this triple-feature is quite unorthodox; his avid interest in modern Japan expands his review to encompass a wide array of books and films concerning Tokyo and contemporary Japan. His knowledge is quite exhaustive in this category, and he sweeps through concise explanations of the actors and directors involved in the movie, brief reviews of numerous works concerning Tokyo, and social commentary on the development and uniqueness of modern Japan in ceaseless fluidity, deft vocabulary, and an unquestionable authority on all maters Japanese. This is a professional critical writer in his element, on his favorite subject.

Final Project Proposal: Disillusionment: The American public’s loss of faith in Christianity

My final project in Arts Journalism will be a social critical essay about the American public’s gradual loss of faith in the Catholic Church and the growing popularity of Atheism, using anti-Christian pieces of popular media to explore this disillusionment. I will argue for this disillusionment, not from an agnostic perspective, but from a social perspective, examining Christianity’s maleficent effects on the societies and individuals it dominates, using examples from works such as Bill Maher’s recent documentary Religulous, the first section of the Zeitgeist documentary, 2007 film “The Golden Compass”, and Chris Durang’s “Sister Mary Ignatius Explains it All for You,” to demonstrate my views. Dogmatic religions are towering social barriers in progressive civilization, and those in charge of these theocracies are its utmost malefactors. Anti-religious works such as “Religulous” and “Sister Mary Ignatius” are the results of writers and artists coming to terms with the fallacies they have been lead to believe since their childhood, feeling compelled to share their bitter enlightenment with those still under its sway. These works are inevitable products of this disillusionment, and, while frequently one-sided and biting in nature, their percolation is necessary to mankind’s advancement.