Exciting, literate, and truly scary.
Exciting, literate, and truly scary.
I just finished watching the final season of Mad Men and wanted to write an appreciation, but…
Where to begin? The writing, the acting, the directing, the design… They’re all wonderful, all outstanding.
The characters and the actors who portray them have become welcome guests in my world. The dialogue reminds me of classic authors. A lot of praise has been showered on the look of the series — and deservedly so. The direction is a master class in how it’s done.
I guess most of all I simply want to give a warm thanks to everyone concerned for many hours of amazing drama.
Mesmerizing, beautiful, scary, profound and all too real, this HBO series is not for the squeamish. As T Bone Burnett says in an interview with the writer, Nic Pizzolatto, our heroes peer into the skull of the most hideous evil imaginable.
I love Judy Collins — who doesn’t?
I saw her in concert last night. It was quite enjoyable, especially when we heard her singing — about half a dozen times, with an encore number thrown in for good measure.
The rest of the time she talked and joked about the weather and her glamorous life. The jokes were funny, the stories interesting enough. The singing was remarkable and she remembered most of the lyrics.
Her flight had been cancelled and she’d had to take a limo from Chicago. Her luggage and her guitar were lost in transition, but she soldiered on.
Good for her.
She was running on very little sleep from the night before — but whose fault was that? After all, that’s life in glamorous NYC.
I could forgive all that, on a good day, as did the audience.
What’s harder to pass over is the fact that we were made to listen to the opening act for far too long.
What lyrics we could make out were instantly forgotten. The piano playing was OK, but it all sounded the same.
The performer’s hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a month and was dyed a color deliberately left out of nature.
There was a fair amount of screeching and foot stomping. I don’t know why. It seemed unfortunate in a musical event. As did the kazoo.
At one point she enjoined us to snap our fingers along with her.
When the audience declined, she said she’d thought we were folkies.
Maybe Judy could bring her up to speed with another history lesson.
Well, he embellished the tale — lovingly, brilliantly.
The Hobbit is great fun — exciting, suspenseful, funny. Just right.
I don’t know what so many people were kvetching about — don’t much care. It all seems like so much sophomoric fault-finding, compared to the beautiful, sweeping story up there on the screen.
A funny thing happens when one uses the term “police state” to describe behavior by authorities in response to the Occupy protests.
Free Speech Zones
In late November, LA Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa released a midnight press release in anticipation of a raid on Occupy LA, which included this line: “During the park closure, a First Amendment area will remain open on the Spring Street City Hall steps.” The absurdity of that statement should be immediately apparent to anyone who understands how real journalism works. Good reporters don’t obediently stand in a “First Amendment area,” deliberately placed far away from the heart of the story. Reporters need to be able to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with protesters, precisely so they can witness how the police interact with them.
Earlier in the month, journalist Josh Harkinson reported on being alerted to the existence of something called the “frozen zone” when he attempted to cover the eviction of Zuccotti.
A white-shirted officer moved in with a bullhorn. “If you don’t leave the park you are subject to arrest. Now is your opportunity to leave the park.”
Nobody budged. As a lone drum pounded, I climbed up on the wall to get a better view.
“Can I help you?” an burly officer asked me, his helpfulness belied by his scowl.
“I’m a reporter,” I told him.
“This is a frozen zone, all right?” he said, using a term I’d never heard before. “Just like them, you have to leave the area. If you do not, you will be subject to arrest.”
He grabbed my arm and began dragging me off. My shoes skidded across the park’s slimy granite floor. All around me, zip-cuffed occupiers writhed on the ground beneath a fog of chemicals.
“I just want to witness what is going on here,” I yelped.
“You can witness it with the rest of the press,” he said. Which, of course, meant not witnessing it.
“Why are you excluding the press from observing this?” I asked.
“Because this is a frozen zone. It’s a police action going on. You could be injured.”
His meaning was clear. I let myself be hustled across the street to the press pen.
“What’s your name?”
His reply came as fast as he could turn away: “Watch your back.”
Around 2016 (more or less) we are going to reach a crossover point, called grid parity. The cost per watt of buying, installing and using a solar system is going to get below the actual cost of buying electricity from the grid, below the cost of generating it with coal or natural gas and transporting it to you.
It’s at this point that I expect open source to shine, because the supply-demand balance will shift. Instead of having to push demand for solar systems, manufacturers will find themselves falling behind demand, just as PC makers began running short (despite production increases) of consumer demand for PCs in the late 1970s, after decades where salesmen had to call on folks to sell mainframes or minicomputers.
When a technology becomes common, when it starts to become standardized, when it has proven itself in the market, that’s when the savings and benefits of open source become obvious.
We’re just getting warmed up.