Now With Less Spam

Okay, I turned on "word verification" so we should have less spam. I sort of like the foreign spam. It's comforting in a strange way. How alone can any of us be if some spam program is trying to post advertisements to our blog at 2am?

But You Can't Dub A Red Stapler

I rarely watch movies on cable, and a couple of days ago I was reminded of why I do not. I was flipping through channels when I suddenly stumbled upon a bit of Office Space. Was it TNT? Comedy Central? E!? No matter. What does matter is that it made me realize how much a well-placed curse word can really add to the impact of a finely-honed comedic film. Or, by the same token, how much a poorly-dubbed curse word can really zap the appeal of a finely-honed comedic film. For example: take the classic scene in which wannabe frat boy co-worker Drew provides Peter with sudden doubts about his girlfriend. Here is how the scene plays in the theatrical release:

Drew: Hey, isn't that the girl that works over at Chotchkie's?
Peter Gibbons: Yeah.
Drew: Hmmm. Who's she here with?
Peter Gibbons: She's with me.
Drew: Really?
Peter Gibbons: Yeah.
Drew: All right, Peter! Ooh! Ooh! Right on... Make sure you wear a rubber, dude.
Peter Gibbons: Why is that, Drew?
Drew: Are you kidding me? She gets around. All right?
Peter Gibbons: She does, does she?
Drew: Oh, yeah. Like a record.
Peter Gibbons: Like, with who?
Drew: Oh, let's see, uh... Hell, Lumbergh fucked her.

Now here is the last part of that scene as it plays out on cable television:

Drew: Are you kidding me? She gets around. All right?
Peter Gibbons: She does, does she?
Drew: Oh, yeah. Like a record.
Peter Gibbons: Like, with who?
Drew: Oh, let's see, uh... Hell, Lumbergh had her.

"Had" her? "Had" her? I can't work with that. Now take the scene in which the three main protagonists are hatching their plan to install an embezzling virus into the computer system at Initech. The theatrical release version:

Peter Gibbons: [discussing the possibility of going to prison] This isn't Riyadh. You know they're not gonna saw your hands off here, alright? The worst they would ever do is they would put you for a couple of months into a white-collar, minimum-security resort! ... Do you know, they have conjugal visits there?
Samir: Really?
Peter Gibbons: Yes.
Michael Bolton: Shit. I'm a free man and I haven't had a conjugal visit in six months.

Now the cable TV version:

Peter Gibbons: Do you know, they have conjugal visits there?
Samir: Really?
Peter Gibbons: Yes.
Michael Bolton: Slime. I'm a free man and I haven't had a conjugal visit in six months.

"Slime"? "Slime"? Really now. I have the feeling that not even eight-year-olds use "slime" as an expletive anymore.

In some cases the dubbing is so creative it almost becomes an extra joke. Cable has turned Michael Bolton's "We get caught laundering money, we're not going to white-collar resort prison, no, no, no, we're going to federal pound me in the ass prison" into "We get caught laundering money, we're not going to white-collar resort prison, no, no, no, we're going to federal pound me into ash prison." Pound me into ash, eh? Sounds like a pretty rough prison. Sure wouldn't want to be pounded into ash.

I never realized how integral profanity was to a movie, even to a seemingly inoffensive, reasonably intellectual comedy such as Office Space, until I watched it on cable. Cable even ruins the poetic last scene in which Peter finds some redemptive solace in his new construction job. He declares, "This isn't so bad, huh? Makin' bucks, gettin' exercise, workin' outside." His delightfully uncouth neighbor (and new co-worker) Lawrence exclaims, "Fuckin' A." Peter takes a long, deep breath and replies, in a comically formal tone, "Fuckin' ... A." Cable turns this into:

Peter Gibbons: This isn't so bad, huh? Makin' bucks, gettin' exercise, workin' outside.
Lawrence: Freakin' A.
Peter Gibbons: [nods] Freakin' ... A.

They even massacred the ending. Freakin' A.

Plaque Build-Up

Q: When is a prank not a prank? A: When it's taken seriously for forty years.

Continuing on with the theme of early North American exploration, allow me to discuss a Wikipedia article on Drake's Plate of Brass. I remember reading in 4th grade that, while sailing around the world, Sir Francis Drake landed somewhere along the Northern California coast, mostly likely in what is now called (get this) Drake's Bay out by Point Reyes National Seashore. My nine-year-old imagination was tickled pink by the vision of some sailor wearing Elizabethan tights (and those neckline ruffles you always see in pictures of Shakespeare) landing anywhere even within spitting distance of my seemingly ahistorical home region. The textbook mentioned that a Plate of Brass had been found on the beach sometime in the 1930s, and historians concluded that it was indeed a fabled artifact from Sir Francis Drake's voyage.

Except it wasn't. Wikipedia has just dashed my childhood dreams by explaining that, apparently sometime after my 4th Grade textbook was published, historians finally concluded that the plate was a hoax perpetrated by "a playful fraternity of California history enthusiasts, the Ancient and Honorable Order of E Clampus Vitus ('ECV')." Oh, you know those ECV boys, always up to something. According to Wikipedia, "ECV describes itself as 'dedicated to the erection of historical plaques, the protection of widows and orphans, especially the widows, and having a grand time while accomplishing these purposes.' " So where can I sign? "G. Ezra Dane, an ECV leader, initiated the hoax as a joke intended for fellow 'Clamper' George Bolton to find." Ah, but the best laid plans of mice and men...

Von der Porten, Aker, and Allen surmise that the conspirators probably planted the plate in Marin in 1933, not far from the supposed location of Drake's landing. William Caldeira, a chauffeur, found the plate while his employer, Leon Bocqueraz, was hunting near the shores of Drake's Bay with a companion, Anson Stiles Blake. Bocqueraz was a banker, while Blake was a prominent and active Berkeley alumnus. Both were members of the California Historical Society. Caldeira showed the dirt-covered plate to Bocqueraz, then stowed the plate in the car to investigate later and then forgot about it. Some weeks later, he found it again while cleaning the car on the San Rafael Ferry and threw it away on the side of the road in San Rafael – several miles from its original location, but still in the Marin area. This was the first of a series of events that ultimately spun the joke out of the conspirators' control.

Hey, what's this big Elizabethan plate of brass doing in the backseat? Maybe I should just toss it on the side of the road?

The plate was found again three years later in 1936 by Beryle Shinn, a shop clerk. Shinn showed it to a friend, a Berkeley student, who suggested he take the plate to Bolton. In February 1937, Shinn brought it to Bolton, which to Bolton was fulfillment of a decades-old professional dream. Bolton compared it to Francis Pretty's contemporaneous description of the plate. He alerted Robert Gordon Sproul, the University of California president, and Allen L. Chickering, the president of the California Historical Society, to the possibility of a major find. Chickering and Bolton negotiated to buy the plate, offering to pay $2,500 and to assume all risk regarding the authenticity of the plate ... Bolton soon announced at a California Historical Society meeting on April 6, 1937, "One of the world's long-lost historical treasures apparently has been found! ... The authenticity of the tablet seems to me beyond all reasonable doubt."

Future historians, let this be a lesson to you: do not summon the words "beyond all reasonable doubt" lightly.

The conspirators found a number of ways of trying to tip off Bolton without actually coming forward themselves. V. L. VanderHoof, a fellow Clamper and Berkeley professor, actually created a spoof of the plate only a few weeks after the announcement of the find, hoping to show Bolton that modern tools could make a plate that looked remarkably like the "real" plate. Clamper Edwin Grabhorn, a Western history publisher, published a spoof letter from the "Consolidated Brasse and Novelty Company" offering a "special line of brass plates" guaranteed to "make your home-town famous." Finally, ECV produced a small press run of a book, Ye Preposterous Booke of Brasse, detailing problems with the metal content, wording and spelling. The book even instructed the reader to look for the "ECV" in fluorescent paint on the back and stated outright "we should now re-claim [the plate] as the rightful property of our ancient Order", meaning ECV.

Hint, hint, nudge, nudge. But alas, it took a group effort from Berkeley, Oxford, and MIT in the 1970s to finally declare the plate a fake. Bolton died in 1953 and never got the joke.

Lousy 4th Grade textbook. What did you know?

Zrbo's Favorite TV Shows of the 00s

Back now with another 'Best of' list. This time, instead of the focus being on delightful videos, I've decided to write about something marginally more substantial - television! (applause) Warning: spoilers ahead!

After countless hours of soul-searching I've compiled a list of my top 5 shows of the zeros/2000s/aughts/naughts or whatever term you prefer to reference the last decade. So let's get things moving shall we?

Doctor Who

Ok, let's just be honest here. I'm a bit of a sci-fi geek, and you're going to see some sci-fi on this list whether you like it or not. And here it is, first up to bat is Doctor Who! Who's Doctor Who? Well, the show (or serial) started all the way back in the damn 60s on the BBC. Essentially it's about the titular character, usually just referred to as "the Doctor", who, as the last surviving time-lord, travels through time and space in his TARDIS (which due to a mishap with it's chameleon circuit is stuck permanently in a 1950s style British police box). I used to watch the show when I was a kid until it disappeared in the early 90s. Earlier this past decade the BBC decided to revive it, and I have to say, it's arguably better than it ever was before.

What makes Doctor Who great sci-fi is it's use of interesting concepts and ideas to examine the human condition. Unlike a lot of modern sci-fi though, Doctor Who eschews explanation in favor of more "big idea" concepts. For example, what if there was a world where everyone was stuck in an eternal traffic jam? Or what if reality TV took over to such an extent that everyone was in a reality show all the time, without their consent, and the penalty for losing was death? Doctor Who takes these novelty situations and explores how we might react to them.

There's several notable aspects of Doctor Who that make the show what it is. One of those is the Doctor and his complete and utter pacifism. Unlike most (American) sci-fi, the Doctor doesn't run around with machine guns or lasers and makes it a point to never, ever kill. It's an interesting facet that gets explored quite regularly, especially in the current Doctor's farewell episode "The End of Time" where the Doctor's pacifism is put to the limits (by none other than Timothy Dalton playing the bad guy). It makes the Doctor quite the man when, even when staring the most aggressive, nasty alien out there, the Doctor will sit there and try to have a friendly conversation with it.

But that's not to say people never die on Doctor Who. Oh no, people get killed all the time. In fact, pretty much every episode guarantees a death. And the show is great about not giving into any sympathy you might have for its characters, something else we don't usually get in American sci-fi. Some old man who shows up and gives the Doctor directions? The next scene he's probably going to die, I can guarantee it.

Another notable aspect is the changing face of the Doctor. I mentioned above that the recent "End of Time" special was the farewell episode for the current Doctor. From its inception Doctor Who has used the clever device that the Doctor can regenerate his body to allow for different actors to take on the role of the Doctor. This is what's helped given Doctor Who its staying power over the years, it doesn't matter if the current actor is getting old or wants to quit, the Doctor can go on (and that actor can then usually expect little-to-no career after that, such as roles in GI Joe movies).

Finally I have to mention the low budget look of Doctor Who. Yes, the sets, costumes and effects are decidedly low budget, but once you start watching, it doesn't really matter. Once you're hooked by the story you hardly notice the cheap special effects, and frankly it gives the show a lot of its charm. Just use your imagination buddy.

Favorite Episodes:

"New Earth" - In the reboot the Doctor brings along a new travelling companion, an Earth girl named Rose (played by Billie Piper), and asks her where she'd like to visit. She wants to go to the final day of Earth, so off they go to the far future on the day the Earth is swallowed by the sun going supernova. On a spaceship cruise liner they meet trees which have evolved sentience and the last human being who's had so many plastic surgeries that she's literally a piece of tight skin with a face, the whole situation seems to be a nod to Douglas Adams' Restaurant at the end of the Universe. A great way to kick off the new show.

"Blink" - Perhaps the best and scariest episode to date. Starring An Education's Carey Mulligan, the show barely features the Doctor, instead exploring an amazing time-travel trick the likes of what hasn't been seen since Marty went back to the dance in Back to the Future Part II.

Battlestar Galactica

I've pretty much already said my piece on Battlestar here. The remake of Battlestar Galactica was the perfect show for a post 9/11 world. It told the story of an unsuspecting civilization about to have their lives turned upside down by a great calamity. The enemies? They're nearly indistinguishable from us. Their motives? They speak of the one true god who wants them to smite us for our sins. Sound familiar?

Favorite Episodes:

"33" - The first real episode after the initial mini-series starts off in medias res as the Galactica finds that no matter what they do the Cylons catch up to them every 33 minutes. High tension right out of the starting gate.

"Pegasus" - The Galactica comes across another surviving ship, the Battlestar Pegasus, where their cries of joy slowly change to cries of horror as the crew learns that the Pegasus hasn't been keeping the same sense of ethics and morality as themselves.

"Precipice" - The Cylons finally get the humans and are holding their colony of New Caprica captive. The Cylons say they just want to bring peace and understanding. The humans don't buy it and begin suicide bombings against the Cylons and against the Cylon instituted human police force. A direct commentary on Iraq and suicide bombings, this episode turns the situation around so that we're the suicide bombers. Chilling.

"Exodous Part II" - Eventually the Galactica comes along to save the Cylon occupied New Caprica. Commander Adama, played by Edward James Olmos, pulls off one of the greatest military maneuvers of all time, putting him up there with Captain Kirk and his triumph over the Kobayashi Maru. It's now affectionately called 'the Adama Maneuver'.

The Wire

TV critics will tell you that The Wire is the greatest show of all time. They might be right. The Wire takes a look at modern day society and its institutions and basically shows you that "this isn't working". From the police in the precincts to the thugs on the street, The Wire has a sense of realism that no other show has. It's almost like watching a documentary at times. The characters are nuanced, shades of gray in a world that we've been told by other shows is black and white. The cops aren't the greatest of people, most just want to work undisturbed to get their promotions and pensions. The corner boys selling drugs aren't the greatest of people, most just want to work undisturbed to earn their money. You see where this is going? Nearly all of the characters have something to teach us, whether it's the questionable city councilman Carcetti or the homeless drug addict Bubs.

The show examines the city of Baltimore from multiple fronts, giving you the impression that this is a real place, and not just some idealized version. The first season shows us how drug dealers operate and the futility of the war on drugs. The second season switches focus to the docks and the workers there who've seen their industry fade over the past 50 years. The third season goes back to the dealers and creates a nearly Shakespearean setup. The fourth season examines the schooling system and how inner city schools are just training grounds for life on the streets. The final season enters the newsroom, where we see how newspapers make (and make up) and break these other stories, and how our impression of these stories are colored by what we read.

A few notable things about The Wire. It can take a while to get into. It's not like other cop shows on TV where they throw you into the action to grab your attention. You'll watch the first few episodes asking yourself "is this it?". Instead, the show is more like a book, it slowly builds it's characters and works towards a conclusion. For example, in a typical CSI episode they might say "we need to get a wire tap on the suspect to see if he's the murderer" and BAM! in the next scene they're listening in on the bad guy's conversation. In The Wire, the entire first season is just about getting one lousy wiretap and all the trouble and bureaucracy the police have to go through to get it.

I should also mention the music of The Wire. It's interesting because there really isn't any music. Well, really all the the music is diagetic, if you hear music it's because it's coming from within the world - a car radio for example. Not only does it help add to the realism of the show, but it helps in that the lack of a traditional soundtrack means our impressions aren't influenced by what we're hearing. We're not told "this is a sad scene" or "you should be happy now". Also worth mentioning is the opening song. The creators of the show took Tom Waits' "Way Down in the Hole" and had it performed by a different artist each season. The first season features a bluesy version by the Blind Boys of Alabama, second season's was done by Waits himself, the third season by the Neville Brothers, the fourth season features a hip-hop version, and the final fifth season by Steve Earle (who also plays a character on the show).

Favorite Episodes:

"Middle Ground" - The Wire isn't afraid to kill off its major characters. I also said the third season was like Shakespeare. This is the penultimate episode of that season where one of the major characters finally meets his demise. Such an amazing ending to a fantastic story arc (especially with the addition of the pigeons for added effect). If you're interested, watch it here.

The Fuck Scene - Ok, so there's no sex involved, just the word 'Fuck' and all of it's colorful uses. This is one of those rare scenes in The Wire that's just all humor. I don't want you to think this is a typical scene from The Wire, it's anything but. But damn, is it funny.

Mark Cronin and Chris Abrego reality shows (Flavor of Love, Surreal Life, Rock of Love, etc.)

Before you snicker, hear me out. We're all familiar with reality shows at this point, especially dating-oriented ones such as The Bachelor. In shows such as The Bachelor the audience is led to believe that if you put a bunch of girls together and give them two weeks to try to woo a guy, that they'll find true love, get married, and go live happily ever after. Needless to say, that never, ever happens.

Mark Cronin and Chris Abrego realize this. Instead, they've carefully crafted a series of reality shows that essentially mock the traditional reality show. Cronin and Abrego know we're savvy enough to realize that the chance of anyone finding love is pretty slim. Instead they give us what I'd call 'post-reality television'. They cast the weirdest, zaniest people, throw them in a mansion stocked with plenty of alcohol, and let the cameras film the ensuing chaos. Oh, there's usually some pretense that they are there for love. But the real trick is in the editing. The show constantly mocks its own contestants, so that, say, whenever the stripper with the thick French accent speaks, they put up hilarious faux-subtitles.

What's amazing about these shows (all on VH1, did I mention?) is how they're essentially spin-offs of spin-offs. For example, the recently premiered 'Frank the Entertainer in a Basement Affair' is a spin-off of 'I Love New York', which is a spin-off of 'Flavor of Love', which is a spin-off of 'Strange Love' (with Brigitte Nielsen), which is a spin-off of 'The Surreal Life'. Mark and Chris have manufactured a small army of reality show personalities, giving the most popular their own shows. Do these people deserve our time? Not really. Are the shows tasteless? Yes. But not including these shows as my favorite would be like not highlighting The Jerry Springer Show when looking back at 90s television. We all groan at how trashy the people are, but really, we're all relieved to know there's people a lot worse than us out there. And it makes for fine entertainment.

Lost

Of all the shows from the 00s ABC's 'Lost' is by far my favorite. What I originally thought was some sort of scripted 'Survivor' turned out to be anything but. Instead, it's a grand mystery that just happens to take place on an island. On one level Lost is a basic mystery show, on another level it is a labyrinthine epic which fans can lose hours arguing over the significance of the copy of The Brothers Karamazov that happened to be laying on a table in some scene.

Lost is perhaps the first truly 21st century show. Moments after any episode of Lost premieres, legions of fans take to the internet to try to decipher what they just saw. A show like Lost couldn't have existed 10 years ago. It relies on the 'meta' aspects of the show to keep the mystery going. Half of the fun is just discussing with others what it all means. You could get lost (no pun intended) for hours on Lostpedia keeping track of all the characters, their motivations, and their relationships to each other. Sometimes the mysteries don't even come from the show, but from the various viral marketing campaigns and 'alternate reality games' that take place in the Lost universe. For example, the meaning of the infamous numbers have never been explained in the show, but if you've paid attention to the 'meta' aspects of the show (such as 'The Lost experience'), you might know what they mean.

I like to think of Lost as the thinking man's show. For example, nearly every week the character Sawyer (a modern day take on the Han Solo type) is usually reading a book, and fans love to dissect the significance of whatever he's reading, whether it be the aforementioned Brothers Karamazov, The Fountainhead, or, in a more comical moment Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret. Or take the names of some of the characters, John Locke, Rousseau, Hawking. It's like the creators of the show are just begging us to look for deeper significance, and in what makes the show work so wonderfully, you, along with thousands of others on the internet, can look for and discuss that significance.

Favorite Episodes:

"Pilot, Part 1" - The original pilot is still one of the most riveting episodes. From the plane crash to the mysterious noises coming out of the jungle, I quickly realized this was not going to be 'Survivor: the Sitcom'. What really sealed the deal for me was when the characters finally get the radio to work only to hear a looped distress signal in French repeating over and over again "I'm on the island alone. The others are dead. It killed them all. Please help."

"The Other 48 Days" - In the second season we are introduced to another group of survivors from the tail section of the plane who ended up on the other side of the island. This episode shows that their experience wasn't quite as nice as our other survivors. A freaky episode full of lots of tension.

"Through the Looking Glass" - The third season finale was a real doozy. The show uses flashbacks to show what each of the characters were doing before they arrived on the island. This episode turns all that around in one of the greatest feats of writing the show has ever had. When it all comes together in that final scene outside the airport, it's just such a 'Wow!' moment.

"Man of Science, Man of Faith" - The entire first season revolved around a mysterious hatch found buried in the ground. At the end of season 1 the characters blow open the hatch. It wouldn't be until season 2 that we get to see what's inside it. In what can only be described as the biggest twist since we realized Bruce Willis was a ghost (OMG!) we get perhaps my favorite opener of any show ever, all set to The Mamas and the Papas Make Your Own Kind of Music. Brilliant.

12,776 Would Have Been More Impressive

Peter Biskind, author of the indispensably lurid Easy Riders, Raging Bulls: How The Sex, Drugs and Rock And Roll Generation Saved Hollywood, is now claiming in a new book that Warren Beatty has had sex with "12,775 women, give or take, a figure that does not include daytime quickies, drive-bys, casual gropings, stolen kisses and so on." Personal note to Biskind: write a book that does include those figures, and then we can talk.

You'd think that after having dredged up more dirt than the feet of Peanuts' Pig Pen, the author would have found celebrities a little more reluctant to spill juicy gossip. But you would be wrong.

Jane Fonda: " 'I thought he was gay.' That's Fonda, recalling the quick, heat-free kiss Beatty gave her during his audition for a film called Parrish in 1960. When the director urged him, 'Grab her, boy, grab her. Don't be shy,' he did just that."

An intern on the set of The Parallax View: "Some of the girls outside Beatty's trailer who got past the door were not particularly attractive, especially since Julie Christie, who was doing Uncle Vanya on Broadway, was flying in to spend every weekend with him. Some were chubby, some had hints of mustaches on their upper lips. Some had the errant pimple or mole or other blemishes."

Director James Toback, on Beatty meeting Annette Bening: "He let out this growl, a primordial yelp of love, lust, desire, enthusiasm, a sound that one would expect a starving man to make at the prospect of finally being able to devour a huge and delicious meal."

If, of course, by "devour a huge and delicious meal," you mean, "marry and have four children," that is. Damn you Annette: you killed the tally.

The Greatest Bumper Sticker Of All Time

Greetings from San Diego, California! (where I have been visiting my brother.) San Diego is like L.A. without the sleaze - but also without the cultural energy. It's sort of an equal trade-off if you think about it. At any rate, I must tell you about the greatest bumper sticker of all time. I didn't even see it on a car. We were in a restaurant called The Miner's Diner in Julian, a small town about an hour east of San Diego. And there, on the cash register, was the following sticker:

DON'T BLAME ME, I VOTED FOR WILLIE NELSON

Think about it. I know nothing about the person who created that sticker, or the person who decided to buy that sticker, and yet I know that these two people must be wonderful human beings. This one simple phrase manages to express so much with so little. Willie Nelson has never actually ran for office. So if one were to vote for Willie Nelson ... And yet, to vote for Willie Nelson would be an extreme act of patriotism, for what is more American than Willie Nelson? NUKE THE WHALES comes close, and MY KID CAN BEAT UP YOUR HONOR STUDENT is certainly in the running, but until I am persuaded otherwise, this one gets my vote.

French Texas?

Would you like some honey Dijon mustard with your barbecue sauce? Didn't think so. I'm not sure how this is going to sit with the Freedom Fries crowd, but thanks to Wikipedia's "Today's Featured Article" (which previously gave us "Anti-tobacco movement in Nazi Germany"), I've just discovered that the first Europeans to colonize Texas were not the Spanish, but the French. Sacre bleu! Apparently a French colony named Fort Saint Louis existed between 1685 to 1689. This has to be the most pathetically doomed expedition I have ever read about. Its sense of existential futility seems tailor-made for a Werner Herzog movie. Absolutely nothing appears to have gone right. Infighting, disease, inaccurate maps, Native American attacks, shipwrecks, you name it. The hero, or rather, anti-hero is one Robert de la Salle. Where do we start?

According to the article, La Salle "intended to found the colony at the mouth of the Mississippi River, but inaccurate maps and navigational errors caused his ships to instead anchor 400 miles (650 km) west, off the coast of Texas near Matagorda Bay." Hey, Columbus got lost too, all right? Granted, he was aiming for India and instead discovered a whole new continent, whereas La Salle was aiming for New Orleans and instead discovered ... Texas. Not quite as impressive? "Although Hernando De Soto had explored and claimed this area for Spain 140 years before,[2] on April 9, 1682, La Salle claimed the Mississippi River valley for French king Louis XIV, naming the territory Louisiana in his honor.[3]" Sure, why not? What was De Soto going to do, file a lawsuit? Apparently Spain had declared war on France in 1683, but "shortly after [La Salle's] departure, France and Spain ceased hostilities, and Louis was no longer interested in sending La Salle further assistance." Have fun on the trip! Nice knowing you!

The chronicler of the expedition, Henri Joutel, described his first view of Texas: "The country did not seem very favorable to me. It was flat and sandy but did nevertheless produce grass. There were several salt pools. We hardly saw any wild fowl except some cranes and Canadian geese which were not expecting us."

Welcome to Texas.

Against Beaujeu's advice, La Salle ordered La Belle and the Aimable "to negotiate the narrow and shallow pass" to bring the supplies closer to the campsite.[20] To lighten L'Aimable's load, its eight cannons and a small portion of its cargo were removed. After La Belle successfully negotiated the pass, La Salle sent her pilot to L'Aimable to assist with the navigation, but L'Aimable's captain refused the help.[19] As the Aimable set sail, a band of Karankawa approached and carried off some of the settlers. La Salle led a small group of soldiers to rescue them, leaving no one to direct the Aimable. When he returned, he found the Aimable grounded on a sandbar.[18] Upon hearing that the captain had ordered the ship to sail forward after it had struck a sandbar, La Salle became convinced that the captain had deliberately grounded the ship.

As if the Indians and the terrain weren't bad enough, you gotta start playing games with me.

On March 24, La Salle took 52 men in five canoes to find a less exposed settlement site. They found Garcitas Creek, which had fresh water and fish, with good soil along its banks, and named it Rivière aux Boeufs for the nearby buffalo herds. Fort Saint Louis would be constructed on a bluff overlooking the creek, 1.5 leagues from its mouth. Two men died, one of a rattlesnake bite and another from drowning while trying to fish.[24] At night, the Karankawa would sometimes surround the camp and howl, but the soldiers could scare them away with a few gun shots.

That probably wasn't going to work for long. Also, "drowning while trying to fish"? Can't an expedition catch a break?

From January until March 1686, La Salle and most of his men searched overland for the Mississippi River, traveling towards the Rio Grande, possibly as far west as modern-day Langtry.[29][30] The men questioned the local Native American tribes, asking for information on the locations of the Spaniards and the Spanish mines, offering gifts, and telling stories that portrayed the Spanish as cruel and the French as benevolent.

Smooth, guys. Real slick.

While La Salle was gone, six of those who had remained on the Belle finally arrived at Fort Saint Louis. According to them, the new captain of the Belle was always drunk. Many of the sailors did not know how to sail, and they grounded the boat on Matagorda Peninsula.

Not knowing how to sail. That may be a problem.

By early January 1687, fewer than 45 of the original 180 people remained in the colony, which was beset by internal strife.[34][36] La Salle believed that their only hope of survival lay in trekking overland to request assistance from New France,[35] and some time that month he led a final expedition to attempt to reach the Illinois Territory.[34] Fewer than 20 people remained at Fort Saint Louis, primarily women, children, and those deemed unfit, as well as seven soldiers and three missionaries with whom La Salle was unhappy.[36] Seventeen men were included on the expedition, including La Salle, his brother, and two of his nephews. While camping near present-day Navasota on March 18, several of the men quarreled over the division of buffalo meat.

It always comes down to the buffalo meat, doesn't it?

That night, one of La Salle's nephews and two other men were killed in their sleep by another expedition member. The following day La Salle was killed while approaching the camp to investigate his nephew's disappearance.[34] Infighting led to the deaths of two other expedition members within a short time.[37] Two of the surviving members, including Jean L'Archeveque, joined the Caddo. The remaining six men made their way to Illinois Country. During their journey through Illinois to Canada, the men did not tell anyone that La Salle was dead. They reached France in the summer of 1688 and informed King Louis of La Salle's death and the horrible conditions in the colony. Louis did not send aid.[38]

"Excuse me while I wipe my hands of this whole sordid affair. So tell me, what is for dinner?" It must have been nice to be a king back then.

La Salle's mission had remained secret until 1686 when former expedition member Denis Thomas, who had deserted in Santo Domingo, was arrested for piracy. In an attempt to gain a lesser punishment, Thomas informed his Spanish jailers of La Salle's plan to found a colony and eventually conquer Spanish silver mines. Despite his confession, Thomas was hanged.

Hey come on! That's cheating! Not fair. And now, to the scene of the wreckage:

The fort and the five crude houses surrounding it were in ruins.[30] Several months before, the Karankawa had attacked the settlement. The Native Americans left a great deal of destruction and the bodies of three people, including a woman who had been shot in the back.[42] A Spanish priest who had accompanied De León conducted funeral services for the three victims.[30] The chronicler of the expedition, Juan Bautista Chapa, wrote that the devastation was God's punishment for opposing the Pope, as Pope Alexander VI had granted the Indies exclusively to the Spanish.[42][43]

That's it! That's why the expedition failed. Not because they were ill-equipped, disorganized, and morally repugnant, but because they were opposing the Pope. Thank you, Spanish, for putting it all into perspective. Speaking of perspective, the Spanish received a note from one Jean L'Archeveque, consisting of the following:

I do not know what sort of people you are. We are French[;] we are among the savages[;] we would like much to be Among the Christians such as we are[.] ... we are solely grieved to be among beasts like these who believe neither in God nor in anything. Gentlemen, if you are willing to take us away, you have only to send a message. ... We will deliver ourselves up to you.[43]

Oh, so now the Spanish aren't so bad, huh? Not after you've been living with the savages, eh?

Sorry French. You and Texas were just not going to work out.

Why Do I Not Like Jazz?

I want to like jazz. A lot of very intelligent people say jazz is really good. Some people say it is the best music ever. Those people all seem to be very serious and brooding. Am I not serious and brooding? I like a lot of other music that people say is really good. I'm intelligent. I want to agree with people. Why is it, then, that I still don't like jazz?

I never thought I'd like country music, but I like it now (or at least country music pre-1975). I never thought I'd like rap, but after taking the effort to explore it, I like rap now as well. You would think that, since I probably have more in common with jazz artists than I do with either country or rap artists, I would prefer jazz over those other genres. You would also think that the Raiders would be able to find a decent quarterback around here somewhere.

About this time last year I decided to give jazz another try. My former attempts at "getting into" jazz felt so much like slamming into a brick wall that I resolved only to try it again when I had fully exhausted exploring all the other genres I already knew I liked. I tried rap before trying jazz again; that should give you some idea. But this time I gave it a good, concentrated attempt. I downloaded about fifty albums from jazz's supposed "peak period," or at least peak period of albums (which didn't exist before 1948, when Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington were dominating the genre). Maybe the problem was that I didn't have context for jazz's many supposed innovations. That was part of my problem with rap. So, as with rap, I decided to listen to the albums I downloaded in roughly chronological order. The results?

Some improvement, perhaps. I don't outright dislike jazz anymore. Every now and then I've even heard something I've liked. Jazz does emit a vague "standing on a Manhattan street corner in 1957" vibe that I enjoy, although other music also gives me same vibe, with the added bonus of me liking it more. I recognize that jazz is not supposed to be listened to in the way that The Rolling Stones or Pink Floyd are supposed to be listened to, when you devote your full attention to the lyrics and the running order of the songs and the production choices, etc. I think when you listen to jazz you're just supposed to space out and not necessarily give your full attention to the music.

But overall, I feel like I am listening to music that I am never going to fully appreciate. I will listen to a Sonny Rollins or a Charles Mingus album, and hear a song I like, and then read the AMG review and apparently find out the song I like is not an important track at all! Oops. You know there's a problem when you don't even understand the terminology of the review you're reading. Here's an excerpt from Thom Jurek's review of Bill Evan's Sunday at the Village Vanguard:

His thematic statement includes the briefest intro, hesitant and spacious before he and pianist enter into a harmonic and contrapuntal conversation underscored by the hushed dynamics of Motian's snare, and the lightning-fast interlocutions of single string and chorded playing of LaFaro. The shapshifting reading of Miles Davis' "Solar," is a place where angularity, counterpoint, and early modalism all come together in a knotty and insistent, yet utterly seamless blend of post-bop aesthetics and expanded harmonic intercourse with Motian, whose work, while indispensable in the balance of the trio, comes more into play here, and is more assertive with his half-time accents to frame the counterpoint playing of Evans and LaFaro.

Now come on. Do you really think all that stuff is really going on in there, or is the reviewer just trying to show off? I feel like there is something about jazz I fail to understand at its core. Or perhaps I really do understand it all too well - and that is my problem. Some other possible reasons why I may not like jazz:

1) I like lyrics. Sue me. Most jazz does not have lyrics. I'm a writer. I was an English major. I still have that "English major" mentality. You gotta give me some words. I'm lost without those words. I really do not know what Charlie Parker is "saying" with his saxophone. I wish somebody would tell me. The jazz aficionado would say, "Man, you can't explain what Charlie Parker is 'saying,' you just feel it. It's like the saxophone is his voice." No. It's not. His saxophone is his saxophone. I'm sorry. A voice is a voice.

2) I like music with an overt sense of humor. I like music that is ridiculous, outrageous, irreverent, silly, and often deliberately lowbrow. Jazz seems to take itself very seriously. Very, very seriously. It's like these guys are all Van Morrison. Lighten up a little. When jazz does try to be silly or humorous it seems to do so in a very low-key way that doesn't much appeal to me. I'm sure it didn't start out this way, but it certainly feels this way now: Jazz seems so "proper," so "tasteful," so "refined." I spit on proper, tasteful, and refined. That's what I like about rock. I don't care how many years pass: when will "Tutti Frutti," Wooly Bully," or "Land of 1,000 Dances" truly become "tasteful" or "refined"? Sure, these songs aren't as rude and disrespectful as they once were, but let's see a Ken Burns documentary about "Do you know how to pony/Like Bony Maronie." I don't care how many universities teach classes on Chaucer; his raunchy sex jokes are still raunchy sex jokes. That's the problem with jazz: it just isn't any fun.

3) I am not a musician, nor do I understand music theory. I suspect that it would help if I had such a background. But I don't. I would like to think, however, that if music is good, I should be able to enjoy it even if I know nothing about music theory. When I was a child I didn't know anything about film theory, and yet I still enjoyed Star Wars and The Wizard Of Oz. Maybe jazz is like the Godard of music; it's only theory. Honestly when I hear jazz aficionados talk about jazz, and then when I go listen to the jazz they're talking about, I feel like I've had a stroke. Because one does not really seem to follow from the other. I'm almost inclined to think these people are lying. But I don't think they are. I think they actually do like jazz.

Maybe if your parents liked jazz and you simply related to it when you were younger, and then later you heard pop music and thought, "Oh, this is silly, real emotion is only expressed by a saxophone solo," then I could sort of understand. Or maybe if your parents only listened to pop music, but you hated your parents and wanted to establish your own identity and one day you heard jazz and thought, "Well, even if this isn't any good, I'm going to listen to it anyway just to be different from my family," I could understand that as well. I just need an explanation.

It's funny. When I listen to jazz, I wouldn't say I think the music is bad. Bad music sounds like something different. Obviously the musicians are very talented, and they are playing with a great deal of passion. Then why does it say so little to me? It's like I'm A.M. and jazz is F.M. Why do I not like jazz? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll pop? The world may never know.

So That's The Plan In Afghanistan

If, like me, you've been wondering just why, exactly, Obama has decided to send 30,000 more troops to Afghanistan, you might enjoy this article in Time. The essence of the situation seems to be captured in the quote below:

Back in 2002 or 2003, when the U.S. looked almost invincible, the Iranians appeared willing to concede a lot simply to forestall a U.S. attack. Now, with the U.S. mired in Afghanistan and Iraq, they are less afraid and thus less willing to deal. Similarly, the Taliban have little incentive to break with al-Qaeda so long as they feel they're gaining momentum in the Afghan war ... The harsh truth is that the U.S. is significantly weaker in the Middle East now than it was in 2002.

Hmm ... what happened in 2002? I can't seem to recall. Oh, wait I got it, wasn't that when our then-president decided to invade a country that essentially had nothing to do with al-Qaeda? Unilaterally? Without a proper strategy? Thanks George. And of course thank you Dick, thank you Don, and thank you Condi. In other words, we had a million options, and now we don't have any. We went from looking like the most bad-ass empire on Earth to looking like a bunch of circus clowns on roller skates. Sort of like this year's Pittsburgh Steelers.

So what's an Obama to do? Apparently he can't do much. Seems like he's calling the "war on terror" off (such as it was), because, lo and behold, we actually don't have a military that can just invade five different countries at once. His plan is to basically look strong while pulling out - sort of like Nixon's beloved "peace with honor." But as the article says, "It is worth noting that while many historians applaud Nixon's retreat from global containment, his decision to cozy up to dictators in Beijing, Moscow and elsewhere elicited revulsion from Americans on both left and right." And shrugs from the middle?

Best of 2009: The Videos

So here we are, we've made it to the end of another year (and another decade, but we can save that for a later post). I thought I'd kick off the Cosmic American's look back at the year with a look at some of the funnier clips you may have missed.

First up is the Literal Video Version of Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart. Literal Videos take a music video (preferably from the 80s) and change the lyrics to match what we're seeing in the video. Just watch the above version and you'll get what I mean.

Next up is "Mall Kick". I originally saw this one on my new favorite show on Comedy Central "Tosh.0". It involves a European reality show where some guy is trying to throw a net over unsuspecting people in the mall - with the most unexpected (read: hilarious) results. I'll just let Daniel Tosh explain it:

Tosh.0
Breakdown - Mall Kick
www.comedycentral.com
Web Redemption 2 Girls, 1 Cup Reaction Demi Moore Picture

Let's not forget the drunk guy buying beer:

Or the Talking Kitty (or Lizard if you prefer):

Ah, 2009! What a year. Not only did we get all these amazing videos above, but we covered some right here at the Cosmic American, such as that awful guy singing or the Muppets doing Bohemian Rhapsody. We also took a look at the Kanye West/Taylor Swift interruption moment and the countless parody videos. I learned the importance of not copying digital media. We had some good times with Jimmy Fallon, Brett Michaels, and a Cool Cat. And lastly, we saw just how cool Ron Howard was when we was up in the club. Thank you 2009 for all the crap you've given us.