A Grand Illusion

I found an article about a “Porn star in a wheelchair [who] breaks barriers” in the Guardian. Yeah.

An insighful essay on feminist standpoint theory and what poststructuralist and postmodern feminist theory makes of it.

I thought Thomas might enjoy it.

As promised, my Sleater Kinney obit. I had no urge to listen to them last night; the jones was satisfied on Sunday when, reviewing a CD-R I burned for a friend, I listened to opener “Little Mouth.”

A brief triple post from Memphis, home to some of the world’s best barbeque spots and, (not a coincidence) fat Elvis. One: I want an explanation for the sort of craziness that allowed the following change to take place in an adjoining restaurant table during lunch.
“You know what gnaws at me? Pedophiles… It’s so horrible- How could someone even think to hurt an innocent child?” Nods all around. “I don’t understand why God doesn’t just send AIDS to kill them, like he did for the faggots.”
Just the sort of deadly conversational leap that would be accompanied by a record scratch on a sitcom but in reality is only answered by… more nods all around.
I think the whole of my sociopolitical frustrations always come to this childish whine:
Why are people so MEAN?
Two: I wish I’d had a camera to capture the sign outside Memphis’ First Methodist Curch, because this week’s sermon has a very (unintentionally) amusing theme:
“Jesus is the Guide for the Blind.”
Hmmmm…
Let’s think about that one long and hard.
Three: David Gilmour’s “On an Island” merits a second listen- or a first, if you’re like most people. You won’t even notice that Roger Waters is elsewhere, politicking.

So reported here. What a run. Disregarding Greil Marcus’ hyperventilation on their behalf, they really were almost as great as he said. I may write later about how first hearing Dig Me Out in the summer of 1997 made me want to vomit – the reaction was that visceral.

The man responsible for two of my favorite records (Dusty in Memphis, Scritti Politti’s Cupid & Psyche’ 85). What a resumé.

I’m not convinced that the Gnarls Barkley album is great — yet — but I’m willing to be. This collection of tunelets, aborted soundscapes, interrupted jokes, and real songs evokes that smell of midnight-in-the-perfect-world ether of prime DJ Shadow, only it’s not so mysterious. At its worst it’s rather gimmicky (the curtain parts when “Transformer” turns into a lost Andre 3000 track from The Love Below and “Go-Go Gadget Gospel” keens like Basement Jaxx).

A narrative of sorts unfolds: a character with a warped sense of humor struggles to maintain a sense of equilibrium; it’s whistling in the dark, and one of the few times that an audio experience captures that sense of suspension before a thought is vocalized. Often the thoughts are contradictory for their own sake, like telling yourself that 2+2=5 to adduce your ability to escape the boredom of logic. He has to rummage through his trunk of discarded identities first. I sense no angst. Like Prince and Green Gartside, Cee-lo questions God and language because a girl dumped his ass (admitting that “Basically I’m complicated” on “Who Cares?” verges on caddishness). Only on “Necromancer” does Cee-Lo make explicit the link between The Girl-as-source-material and The Girl-who-done-me-wrong: she’s a nexus between those sadomasochistic blues tropes and the “neo necro” hocus pocus in which producer Danger Mouse envelops them. It’s a troubling song, not least because Cee-Lo’s reaction to The Girl’s overdose has more in common with Rick James than Robert Johnson. Even creepier is the woozy “Smiley Faces,” in which Cee-Lo can’t figure out why The Girl is so damn happy all the time, despite his shit. He envies her but can’t bring himself to emulate her — not yet.

No caveats about “Crazy,” possibly the weirdest song to hit the Billboard Top 10 this millenium.

I’m not convinced that the Gnarls Barkley album is great — yet — but I’m willing to be. This collection of tunelets, aborted soundscapes, interrupted jokes, and real songs evokes that smell of midnight-in-the-perfect-world ether of prime DJ Shadow, only it’s not so mysterious. At its worst it’s rather gimmicky (the curtain parts when “Transformer” turns into a lost Andre 3000 track from The Love Below and “Go-Go Gadget Gospel” keens like Basement Jaxx).

A narrative of sorts unfolds: a character with a warped sense of humor struggles to maintain a sense of equilibrium; it’s whistling in the dark, and one of the few times that an audio experience captures that sense of suspension before a thought is vocalized. Often the thoughts are contradictory for their own sake, like telling yourself that 2+2=5 to adduce your ability to escape the boredom of logic. He has to rummage through his trunk of discarded identities first. I sense no angst. Like Prince and Green Gartside, Cee-lo questions God and language because a girl dumped his ass (admitting that “Basically I’m complicated” on “Who Cares?” verges on caddishness). Only on “Necromancer” does Cee-Lo make explicit the link between The Girl-as-source-material and The Girl-who-done-me-wrong: she’s a nexus between those sadomasochistic blues tropes and the “neo necro” hocus pocus in which producer Danger Mouse envelops them. It’s a troubling song, not least because Cee-Lo’s reaction to The Girl’s overdose has more in common with Rick James than Robert Johnson. Even creepier is the woozy “Smiley Faces,” in which Cee-Lo can’t figure out why The Girl is so damn happy all the time, despite his shit. He envies her but can’t bring himself to emulate her — not yet.

No caveats about “Crazy,” possibly the weirdest song to hit the Billboard Top 10 this millenium.

Since Jillian mentioned House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi in passing a few hours ago, let me link to this Slate piece which ran a few months ago (one of my favorites this year) praising Pelosi’s unrivalled genius for ill-considered political moves. I’ll also add her talent for nearly always saying the wrong thing and looking shrill and strung-out, rather like Condoleeza Rice.

This essay deserves another look too. I forgive Jacob Weisberg for writing “Howard Dean is smarter than either Pelosi or [Senate Minority Leader Harry] Reid.”

Irony and sincerity collide, dissolve, and collide again, infuriatingly, in Robert Altman’s A Prairie Home Companion. Young men of Cuban descent didn’t grow up listening to Garrison Keillor’s corny fireside cats (but I did read a lengthy excerpt from Lake Woebegon Days in a 1986 issue of Reader’s Digest, if that counts), not when they had their abuelos and tios‘ domino-side chats to parse. Wry, affectionate, and often inert, APC doesn’t know whether to gently prod these amiable second-raters for their gumption or let them have their fun; Altman doesn’t seem to know either, which is part of its minor charm (the film’s villain, played by Tommy Lee Jones, is disposed of – I mean this literally – in a manner that can only be described as defiantly listless). The film’s about 10 minutes too long.

Lindsey Lohan is fine. Kevin Kline plays a hopeless part with a deadpan skill which gets more surprising as the movie progresses and you realize he’s still getting away with it. Lily Tomlin proves once again that she should be in every movie ever made (the closeup of her legs in I ::Heart:: Huckabees is one of the most generous moments a youngish director ever offered an actress over forty). RoboStreep, engine purring but not yet revved up, gets into the spirit of the proceedings; she and Tomlin sure don’t look like sisters but you’d never know it. This is minor Altman to be sure; like Cookie’s Fortune, perfidy is intimated without anyone paying it any mind.

Oscar Corral posted a good chunk of Brian Latell’s report, which I’m going to paste below, inferring from recent media coverage of Raul Castro in Cuba, that a transition may have already begun. It’s almost inconceivable to me, that Fidel Castro would relinquish any bit of power—even to his brother—but Latell makes a convincing argument.

“Signs of what is probably accelerating succession planning at the highest levels of the Castro regime have been multiplying since early this month. As Fidel Castro’s ability to provide coherent leadership has conspicuously deteriorated, his brother Raul seems to be assuming broader responsibilities while also reaching out to improve his image with the Cuban people. These developments could even indicate that Raul has already assumed critical responsibilities from his brother and is now acting as Cuba’s de facto top decision maker.

“Raul has been asserting personal control over the communist party apparatus, highlighting its likely enhanced role in the future. He has been focusing intense and sympathetic media attention on himself, while also emphasizing the strength and unity of the armed forces he has run since 1959. He has been out in public much more than has been customary, regularly now appearing on the front page of the official communist party daily, Granma. Cuban media coverage of the younger Castro has reached such unprecedented intensity in fact, that it seems logical to conclude that he has authorized the creation of his own public relations staff. Always deferential to Fidel’s starring role in the Cuban revolution, Raul would never in the past have presumed to upstage his brother this way.

“The media blitz began on June 3rd, Raul’s 75th birthday, when Granma, ran a remarkable, extended paean to the defense minister. Under the headline Cercania de Raul, literally translated as “nearness” to Raul, the article was intended in part to project a sympathetic image of a leader who has never been popular with the Cuban people. But the Spanish language title of the article also suggests a possibly momentous double meaning: Cercania de Raul might also be translated as the “proximity of Raul,” suggesting that his ascent to power in his own right has begun, or is imminent. I do not believe that Raul has ever been the subject of such unusual and personalized media attention.”

“The Granma birthday article was unprecedented in a number of respects. The authors, longtime close personal friends of Raul, seemed intent on distinguishing him favorably from Fidel, which would have been inconceivable until now. The “modesty and simplicity” that Raul demonstrates “in personal interactions” according to the authors, certainly contrasts with Fidel’s grandiosity.”

“Raul, the article emphasized, avoids making “unilateral assessments.” Instead –and notably unlike his brother—he always encourages “collective” approaches to solving problems. The implication in this, and other similar references in the article, as well as in a pointed passage in a speech Raul delivered to a military audience on June 14th, is probably that he intends to govern at the head of a collective civilian-military team. He seems to be signaling other Cuban officials that he does not plan to occupy all of the most important positions of power in the party and government, as Fidel does. That is a sound strategy for assuring leadership support for Raul’s uncontested succession…”

“…The article concludes with several passages drawn from Fidel’s speeches and interviews over the years, in which he certifies his brother as his legitimate and preferred successor. “In my opinion, the colleague that was best prepared and that I knew could very well carry out the task was comrade Raul.” And, Fidel is also quoted as once having said: “everybody knows we hate nepotism here. (But) I honestly think that (Raul) has the sufficient qualities to substitute for me in case I die in this battle”.

I will write more on this nincompoop when I’m sober and not minutes away from bedtime, though I’m still debating whether he’s worth the attention. I first ran into his nonsense on Andres Oppenheimer’s blog, but I didn’t pay much attention to him. Now, it seems he has found his way into my goddamn blog and just commented here, that the reason the Cuban government restricts the internet is because of American telecom restrictions, which is absolute nonsense. The Sentinel story, for example, points to the fact that the internet booths for Cubans do not allow them to access the Internet—only a local intranet—even if they pay with dollars.

I was surprised to learn that Hillary Rodham Clinton is not 100% pro-choice (her focus is on preventing pregnancy). Because of this and other reasons, many women may not have her back in the 2008 elections.

Would you vote for Hillary in ‘08? Why or why not?

The New York Times reports that Aaron Spelling, “the most prolific producer in American television,” died at the ripe ol’ age of 83 at his ridiculously enormous L.A. mansion. One can only hope that this means that Tori Spelling will never appear in another television series again.

To honor Aaron Spelling’s memory, a question: who had the best hair on “Dynasty”? Discuss.

Have you heard the fantastic Tegan and Sara yet? If you haven’t, you may be missing out on one of today’s best indie/folk bands.

But I have brought them up because of something I recently read. Please take a look at this brief review (the first one under “Editorial Reviews”) on Amazon.com about their latest LP, So Jealous (2004), and tell me what jumps out at you.

Here’s what jumped out at me: the reviewer states that Tegan and Sara are “destined for hugeness.” Agreed. At the same time, before that, the reviewer apparently felt the need to provide the reader with a caveat of sorts: Tegan and Sara are identical twin lesbians. Now don’t you forget! the author seems to be telling us.

When did musicians’ sexual orientation become so significant that it must be mentioned prior to the merits of the very music these musicians are responsible for? I was never a George Michael fan, say, but was his homosexuality brought up in reviews before the writers got to the point? Please educate me on this.