As a former ad man (I wrote radio commercials for many years) I pay attention to commercials on a different level than most, sizing them up for how well they accomplish their missions. And I have noticed a strange thing in at least two commercial campaigns: the commercials are telling you not to use the product. I don't think the creators mean them to do that, but that's what they do.
The first is a credit notification commercial which has a man being harassed in his kitchen, car, and bedroom by a notifier telling the man that his credit rating is fine and his identity hasn't been stolen. At one point the service wakes him from a sound sleep to tell him this information. This commercial, while funny, delivers the message "Our product will annoy you." Now while some of us will intentionally annoy ourselves for potential benefit, it usually isn't in the arena of credit watching.
The second one is on both radio and television. It is the travel site with the lawn gnome, where they debunk travel myths. The ads announce what they consider is a myth about booking travel and then give the benefits of their service. However, they immediately follow it announcing a myth such as "it's bad to touch jellyfish" followed by the gnome getting stung by the jellyfish. It, too, is funny, but says "We're lying" or at least "you can't trust us."
You can be funny in an ad without destroying the message you want to send. The travel site's ads could be altered slightly to "Truth or Fiction?" giving the same travel point saying that the myth is fiction, then doing the jellyfish bit with the gnome getting stung, saying that was true. The fix on the credit commercial could be something like a guy not being able to do anything because he's worried that his identity has been stolen. Then, after he gets the credit service, he's calm and serene.
At any rate, whenever delivering a public message designed to persuade, you must take a look at what you're saying under the surface, or else, like the jellyfish, it could come back to sting you.
Friday, February 18, 2005
Monday, February 07, 2005
He's Just a Bill. Yes, He's Only a Bill
First, congratulations to Bill Belichick on winning his third Superbowl. His team, while as boring as he was during his tenure with the Browns, knows how to win and does just that.
That said, I was surprised to find Cris Collinsworth even mentioning that Bill coached in Cleveland and what a disaster that was. But he did, saying that people in Cleveland must be scratching their heads at the success he's having now.
Well, this expatriate (no pun intended) isn't scratching his head about Bill's success now. What pretty much all of greater Cleveland was scratching their head about was his coaching in Cleveland. With hindsight a plenty, these days most Clevelanders will say they wanted Bill Cowher, but at the time sentiment was split between Cowher and Belichick as choices for head coach, because Bill B. was young and was thought to be something of a defensive genius. And yet his some of his football moves with Cleveland just didn't make sense.
History has proven him more right than wrong about Bernie Kosar's diminishing skills (which was more a PR disaster than a football disaster.) But "Metcalf up the middle" became literally a running joke in Cleveland, mocking Belichick's penchant for trying to run the slight Eric Metcalf up the gut, especially when the more durable Leroy Hoard was available for such duty. But looking back at those times, one must conclude that Belichick was trying to win with, let's face it, a less than stellar football cast.
The teams of Art "The Great Satan" Modell while in Cleveland drafted horrendously. (It must be something in Lake Erie, because Carmen Policy didn't do any better.) The unsung hero in Boston is the Patriots' general manager (so unsung, in fact, that I have forgotten his name.) But even there, Bill had a hand. In much of a similar replay to Cleveland, Bill benched the popular Drew Bledsoe for the boring, workmanlike Tom Brady, who, to paraphrase Al Davis, just wins, baby.
So Belichick has vindication (if he wants it,) and yet another Superbowl. It's nice to see that somebody got the Belichick we'd hoped we'd get all along. And, yes, his teams are still boring. But I'll take boring and winning every day and especially twice on Sunday.
That said, I was surprised to find Cris Collinsworth even mentioning that Bill coached in Cleveland and what a disaster that was. But he did, saying that people in Cleveland must be scratching their heads at the success he's having now.
Well, this expatriate (no pun intended) isn't scratching his head about Bill's success now. What pretty much all of greater Cleveland was scratching their head about was his coaching in Cleveland. With hindsight a plenty, these days most Clevelanders will say they wanted Bill Cowher, but at the time sentiment was split between Cowher and Belichick as choices for head coach, because Bill B. was young and was thought to be something of a defensive genius. And yet his some of his football moves with Cleveland just didn't make sense.
History has proven him more right than wrong about Bernie Kosar's diminishing skills (which was more a PR disaster than a football disaster.) But "Metcalf up the middle" became literally a running joke in Cleveland, mocking Belichick's penchant for trying to run the slight Eric Metcalf up the gut, especially when the more durable Leroy Hoard was available for such duty. But looking back at those times, one must conclude that Belichick was trying to win with, let's face it, a less than stellar football cast.
The teams of Art "The Great Satan" Modell while in Cleveland drafted horrendously. (It must be something in Lake Erie, because Carmen Policy didn't do any better.) The unsung hero in Boston is the Patriots' general manager (so unsung, in fact, that I have forgotten his name.) But even there, Bill had a hand. In much of a similar replay to Cleveland, Bill benched the popular Drew Bledsoe for the boring, workmanlike Tom Brady, who, to paraphrase Al Davis, just wins, baby.
So Belichick has vindication (if he wants it,) and yet another Superbowl. It's nice to see that somebody got the Belichick we'd hoped we'd get all along. And, yes, his teams are still boring. But I'll take boring and winning every day and especially twice on Sunday.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
It's the Most Miserable Time of the Year
This is not one of those happy face "grumpy" essays where I complain about the perils of erecting a Christmas tree or hearing the same hot new Christmas song once an hour. This, alas, is a little more serious. The holiday season, while bringing joy to many, also brings heartache. First, for many the holidays increase their sense of alienation from the community around them. One is never quite so lonely as when one is lonely in a crowd. For some, the tension of having the holidays turn out perfect heightens the dysfunction of dysfunctional families, creating enormous stress and tension. And last but not least, there is a bad or painful memory associated with the holidays. It is in this latter camp I fall.
My mother's birthday falls between Thanksgiving and Christmas and the malady to which she eventually succumbed befell her also during this time. While this is no longer the first Christmas and New Year's without her, the fact that this time of year was the time I paid the most attention to her makes it very hard for me.
The purpose of this little screed is to not bring you down. It is the holiday season and there are many things to be happy about and enjoy. I guess what I am asking is if you run into someone who seems more Scrooge than Santa Claus, just leave them be and understand that they may want to be as jovial as you but haven't found their way back yet.
My mother's birthday falls between Thanksgiving and Christmas and the malady to which she eventually succumbed befell her also during this time. While this is no longer the first Christmas and New Year's without her, the fact that this time of year was the time I paid the most attention to her makes it very hard for me.
The purpose of this little screed is to not bring you down. It is the holiday season and there are many things to be happy about and enjoy. I guess what I am asking is if you run into someone who seems more Scrooge than Santa Claus, just leave them be and understand that they may want to be as jovial as you but haven't found their way back yet.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Clean Up on Aisle Ten
I'm back. Where have I been? Preoccupied with America's Quadrennial Pastime, the election. I did a site about the poll data and the electoral college and spent most of my time mouthing off at Little Green Footballs. I have been trying to get all of the election bugs out of my system before coming back to this, but there are a few election-related things I do want to get off my chest.
The Red does not have to make overtures to the Blue. This is starting to become maddening. The Red won. The Blue didn't. Anyone on the Blue side asking for healing and unity needs to start first. You can do that by stopping the insinuation we're Bible thumpin' inbred idiots.
The new rule of tacking on "And I approve this message" is stupid. I got so sick of hearing that at the end of commercials I wanted to throw a shoe through the television & / or radio. Just what was that supposed to do, anyway? Such a "duh" law.
There is something seriously wrong with the exit poll situation. Dick Morris (former political adviser to Bill Clinton,) suggests it might even have been something criminal. While I am not in the crowd that says "Since exit polls are always right, the votes were tampered with,) I do think there is a reason why exit polls have been off since 2000 and we need to find out why. But it does serve to remind us that the only poll that counts is the actual tally of votes.
I shouldn't be gone quite this long for another four years.
The Red does not have to make overtures to the Blue. This is starting to become maddening. The Red won. The Blue didn't. Anyone on the Blue side asking for healing and unity needs to start first. You can do that by stopping the insinuation we're Bible thumpin' inbred idiots.
The new rule of tacking on "And I approve this message" is stupid. I got so sick of hearing that at the end of commercials I wanted to throw a shoe through the television & / or radio. Just what was that supposed to do, anyway? Such a "duh" law.
There is something seriously wrong with the exit poll situation. Dick Morris (former political adviser to Bill Clinton,) suggests it might even have been something criminal. While I am not in the crowd that says "Since exit polls are always right, the votes were tampered with,) I do think there is a reason why exit polls have been off since 2000 and we need to find out why. But it does serve to remind us that the only poll that counts is the actual tally of votes.
I shouldn't be gone quite this long for another four years.
Friday, October 15, 2004
Not a Democracy
Many of you will be surprised to find that the good ol' US of A is not a democracy. It's a representative republic and it's right in the constitution. Like the misunderstood Electoral College and the maligned right to bear arms, our founding fathers did this for a reason.
The people without the filter of a representative would be able to use their numbers to abuse the rights of the minority. In fact, this happens to a degree now whenever someone cries "tax the rich," never mind that the truly rich have a myriad of ways of avoiding the tax man.
The founding fathers were big believers in minority rights. The right to bear arms gives the populace at least a theoretical chance against oppression by the government. The Electoral College keep New York and California from dominating the other 48.
So I always get a little concerned when there's talk of spreading democracy around the globe. A constitutional republic is a better ticket, IMO.
The people without the filter of a representative would be able to use their numbers to abuse the rights of the minority. In fact, this happens to a degree now whenever someone cries "tax the rich," never mind that the truly rich have a myriad of ways of avoiding the tax man.
The founding fathers were big believers in minority rights. The right to bear arms gives the populace at least a theoretical chance against oppression by the government. The Electoral College keep New York and California from dominating the other 48.
So I always get a little concerned when there's talk of spreading democracy around the globe. A constitutional republic is a better ticket, IMO.
Thursday, October 14, 2004
How a black Greater Clevelander became an arch-conservative.
First, let me say straight off that I am not going to tell you how to vote. My only advice on voting I ever give is what I said to my usually conservative friend Mark B. who was contemplating voting for H. Ross Perot back in 1992. Make sure you know well the person you're voting for, but if you do, then vote not for the person who's going to win, not for the person who can win, but for the person who believes and thinks the most like you. Do that, and you have never cast a wasted vote.
So how does a young black man from a 90% Democrat pro-union household end up "slightly to the left of Pat Buchanan" as my friend Mark M. put it once (before, IMO, Pat flew off into space?) (By the way, that's not a typo. I have a conservative friend Mark B. and a moderate friend Mark M. who are among the privileged few with whom I actually discuss politics.)
It starts with Ronald Reagan. I am probably the only conservative my age who never voted for Reagan. I was voting age right around the time Reagan ran against Carter. Always a tad rebellious, I registered as an independent, not because I disagreed with Democratic policy, but simply because I prided myself on being a free thinker. (The fact that now that I am a conservative, I get called "mindless robot" continually is extremely ironically amusing.) My family predicted dire things if Ronald Reagan became president, including the rollback of civil rights gains made over the previous decades. Well, despite my vote for President Carter, Reagan became president. Midway into his first term, I worked at my first radio station. One of the guys on payday was marveling how Reagan said he'd lower his taxes and by gum, his taxes were lower.
This was a revelation to me; a politician keeping a promise, especially since the house was Democrat at the time. Reaganomics was widely ridiculed, but a funny thing happened on the way to Reagan's second term; the economy improved. This was still not enough to move me, and I voted, without enthusiasm, for Walter Mondale and his nuclear freeze. For some reason, that never sat right with me as the way to deal with the Soviet Union. Probably because I knew too many kids who would say "I'll stop punching you if you stop punching me," only to find that once you stopped, they clobbered you. But I digress. In Reagan's second term, Reaganomics caught fire. On the broad strokes of what he said would happen and what he wanted to do, it worked. And I am too much the rational thinker to dismiss it all as pure coincidence. So when George H.W. Bush said he'd "stay the course," he became the first Republican I voted for. (Strange fact: the only presidents I have ever helped elect were named George Bush.)
Rush Limbaugh burst upon the scene right then and while he was (and is) primarily an entertainer, some of the ideas expressed on his program just made sense, including a rather bizarre one (on the surface of it) that affirmative action was counter to what Martin Luther King was striving for. If you listen to the meaning of the "I have a dream" speech, Dr. King wanted his children judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character, by who they were and what they did as individuals. My first hiring in radio was tainted by the fact that it was at an "all white" station that was coming up on license renewal. I hated the fact that no matter how much talent I had and how well I did, someone could comfort themselves with the story that I got the job not on my merit, but to fill a quota.
I decided that I wanted to be in the party where if I had a seat at the table I earned it and would be taken seriously, rather than being given a seat and ignored. And so I became a Republican. It was only after I had done so that I found out that my grandfather was one (as many blacks of his generation were) and that my family converted after a nasty event that supposedly occurred during a Republican National Convention. While my mother was alive, I tried a couple of times to confirm the story or prove that it was a malicious rumor, but no one outside of my immediate family had ever heard the story. Now that my mother is dead, it doesn't matter and I won't repeat it here, because even if it were true, it is no longer relevant.
My story is a journey that I am not sure means anything to anyone but me, but I just felt like telling the tale. Back to our normal insanity next post.
So how does a young black man from a 90% Democrat pro-union household end up "slightly to the left of Pat Buchanan" as my friend Mark M. put it once (before, IMO, Pat flew off into space?) (By the way, that's not a typo. I have a conservative friend Mark B. and a moderate friend Mark M. who are among the privileged few with whom I actually discuss politics.)
It starts with Ronald Reagan. I am probably the only conservative my age who never voted for Reagan. I was voting age right around the time Reagan ran against Carter. Always a tad rebellious, I registered as an independent, not because I disagreed with Democratic policy, but simply because I prided myself on being a free thinker. (The fact that now that I am a conservative, I get called "mindless robot" continually is extremely ironically amusing.) My family predicted dire things if Ronald Reagan became president, including the rollback of civil rights gains made over the previous decades. Well, despite my vote for President Carter, Reagan became president. Midway into his first term, I worked at my first radio station. One of the guys on payday was marveling how Reagan said he'd lower his taxes and by gum, his taxes were lower.
This was a revelation to me; a politician keeping a promise, especially since the house was Democrat at the time. Reaganomics was widely ridiculed, but a funny thing happened on the way to Reagan's second term; the economy improved. This was still not enough to move me, and I voted, without enthusiasm, for Walter Mondale and his nuclear freeze. For some reason, that never sat right with me as the way to deal with the Soviet Union. Probably because I knew too many kids who would say "I'll stop punching you if you stop punching me," only to find that once you stopped, they clobbered you. But I digress. In Reagan's second term, Reaganomics caught fire. On the broad strokes of what he said would happen and what he wanted to do, it worked. And I am too much the rational thinker to dismiss it all as pure coincidence. So when George H.W. Bush said he'd "stay the course," he became the first Republican I voted for. (Strange fact: the only presidents I have ever helped elect were named George Bush.)
Rush Limbaugh burst upon the scene right then and while he was (and is) primarily an entertainer, some of the ideas expressed on his program just made sense, including a rather bizarre one (on the surface of it) that affirmative action was counter to what Martin Luther King was striving for. If you listen to the meaning of the "I have a dream" speech, Dr. King wanted his children judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character, by who they were and what they did as individuals. My first hiring in radio was tainted by the fact that it was at an "all white" station that was coming up on license renewal. I hated the fact that no matter how much talent I had and how well I did, someone could comfort themselves with the story that I got the job not on my merit, but to fill a quota.
I decided that I wanted to be in the party where if I had a seat at the table I earned it and would be taken seriously, rather than being given a seat and ignored. And so I became a Republican. It was only after I had done so that I found out that my grandfather was one (as many blacks of his generation were) and that my family converted after a nasty event that supposedly occurred during a Republican National Convention. While my mother was alive, I tried a couple of times to confirm the story or prove that it was a malicious rumor, but no one outside of my immediate family had ever heard the story. Now that my mother is dead, it doesn't matter and I won't repeat it here, because even if it were true, it is no longer relevant.
My story is a journey that I am not sure means anything to anyone but me, but I just felt like telling the tale. Back to our normal insanity next post.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Brian Wilson presents Smile Part IV: Smile
Smiling.
And finally, after all these years, Brian Wilson decided that he was going to finish Smile.
So he, Van Dyke Parks, and Darian Sahanaja of the Wondermints did a Mike Love-ectomy of the existing Smile pieces, finished or rewrote a few other pieces, tacked on a few bridges to accomodate key changes (as Brian can't hit the high notes as he used to) and figured out a road version of the album.
Brian had to take it on the road first to know for sure that someone wanted to hear this music. And they did.
Now finally, his dad just one of the faint voices in his head, Mike Love an oldies circuit relic with no power over him anymore, Brian went into a studio and in a phenomenally short time made the album he wanted to make almost 40 years ago.
And strangely, while no longer innovative, no longer germane to the music scene, it is good. And it gives me hope. Brian Wilson is an inspiration for me, that potential creative genius can still come back, after all these years, after all the sorrow and tragedy. Every time I look back on the missed opportunities, the unreached potentials of my life, I take comfort that as long as I am still around, I still have a chance.
Listen to Smile if you get a chance. You may not like it. You may think it's corny and dated. But for Brian Wilson and for me, it's one of the best things we've ever heard.
And finally, after all these years, Brian Wilson decided that he was going to finish Smile.
So he, Van Dyke Parks, and Darian Sahanaja of the Wondermints did a Mike Love-ectomy of the existing Smile pieces, finished or rewrote a few other pieces, tacked on a few bridges to accomodate key changes (as Brian can't hit the high notes as he used to) and figured out a road version of the album.
Brian had to take it on the road first to know for sure that someone wanted to hear this music. And they did.
Now finally, his dad just one of the faint voices in his head, Mike Love an oldies circuit relic with no power over him anymore, Brian went into a studio and in a phenomenally short time made the album he wanted to make almost 40 years ago.
And strangely, while no longer innovative, no longer germane to the music scene, it is good. And it gives me hope. Brian Wilson is an inspiration for me, that potential creative genius can still come back, after all these years, after all the sorrow and tragedy. Every time I look back on the missed opportunities, the unreached potentials of my life, I take comfort that as long as I am still around, I still have a chance.
Listen to Smile if you get a chance. You may not like it. You may think it's corny and dated. But for Brian Wilson and for me, it's one of the best things we've ever heard.
Brian Wilson presents Smile Part III: Getcha Back
The comeback. Brian Wilson was saved from total personal destruction at first by the Svengali like sway of Eugene Landy, but ultimately by love. Brian met his current wife at a car dealership and somehow through the drugs and the depression, Brian found enough of himself to assert his own independence. He began recording new music and got married. His new wife was the island of safety he needed to start a long arduous comeback, long after anyone cared if he ever truly came back.
Brian released the album Imagination, which was a good album, but still more like the sun and fun formula that cousin Mike battered him into back in 1967. But he was touring. And a funny thing happened: he found out that people knew who he was, found that as much as there were fans of the Beach Boys, there were fans of him. Some of those fans were the group the Wondermints, who became, in essence, Brian's touring band, Brian's new Beach Boys, as it were. Only this time, they were devoted to their source.
Brian decided to try playing the entire album Pet Sounds on tour. This was done to rousing success. As part of these performances, the band would do little things that surprised him, sneaking in parts of the various snippets of Smile that had leaked out over the years. The crowd ate it up. Brian himself did some of the sneaking, singing "I Know There's An Answer" with the original lyrics Mike rejected "Hold On To Your Ego." Beach Boy enthusiasts knew what that meant and roared. Now in his sixties, Brian was finally, subtly, standing up to Mike Love.
And finally, after all these years, long after it meant anything to anyone other than himself, Brian Wilson decided that he was going to finish Smile.
Brian released the album Imagination, which was a good album, but still more like the sun and fun formula that cousin Mike battered him into back in 1967. But he was touring. And a funny thing happened: he found out that people knew who he was, found that as much as there were fans of the Beach Boys, there were fans of him. Some of those fans were the group the Wondermints, who became, in essence, Brian's touring band, Brian's new Beach Boys, as it were. Only this time, they were devoted to their source.
Brian decided to try playing the entire album Pet Sounds on tour. This was done to rousing success. As part of these performances, the band would do little things that surprised him, sneaking in parts of the various snippets of Smile that had leaked out over the years. The crowd ate it up. Brian himself did some of the sneaking, singing "I Know There's An Answer" with the original lyrics Mike rejected "Hold On To Your Ego." Beach Boy enthusiasts knew what that meant and roared. Now in his sixties, Brian was finally, subtly, standing up to Mike Love.
And finally, after all these years, long after it meant anything to anyone other than himself, Brian Wilson decided that he was going to finish Smile.
Brian Wilson presents Smile Part II: I Guess I Just Wasn't Made For These Times
The time: 1967. On the heels of the Beach Boys's Pet Sounds and the Beatles Rubber Soul, Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys set out to create a concept album called Smile, the whole thing constructed the way one might construct a symphony. And he did. And then the world ended.
Not literally of course, but for Brian. Chronic depression, stage fright, and LSD use made Brian's mental state fragile. Coincidental fires made Brian think rehearsals of his Fire Suite "Mrs. O'Leary's Cow" was causing them. As he prepared the music for Smile, there was a mutiny. Mike Love hated Van Dyke Parks's lyrics. And Mike Love was enamored of the cars / sun / chicks motif, to the exclusion of just about anything else. (I always think of Mike when I hear the Pet Sounds lyric "No one wants to help me look for places where new things might be found.") And so, with Brian feeling like he was the only one who truly cared about this new music and doubt creeping in about its viability, he quit: Smile, the Beach Boys (in essence,) and life. Extreme weight gain, bizarre behavior, and a steady, inexorable decline of the Beach Boys and Brian Wilson that slowed, lurched upward (Come and Go With Me, Getcha Back, Kokomo) but never fully ascended.
Brian was saved from total personal destruction only to fall under the Svengali like sway of Eugene Landy. But he was rescued ultimately by love. Not Mike. The marrying kind.
Not literally of course, but for Brian. Chronic depression, stage fright, and LSD use made Brian's mental state fragile. Coincidental fires made Brian think rehearsals of his Fire Suite "Mrs. O'Leary's Cow" was causing them. As he prepared the music for Smile, there was a mutiny. Mike Love hated Van Dyke Parks's lyrics. And Mike Love was enamored of the cars / sun / chicks motif, to the exclusion of just about anything else. (I always think of Mike when I hear the Pet Sounds lyric "No one wants to help me look for places where new things might be found.") And so, with Brian feeling like he was the only one who truly cared about this new music and doubt creeping in about its viability, he quit: Smile, the Beach Boys (in essence,) and life. Extreme weight gain, bizarre behavior, and a steady, inexorable decline of the Beach Boys and Brian Wilson that slowed, lurched upward (Come and Go With Me, Getcha Back, Kokomo) but never fully ascended.
Brian was saved from total personal destruction only to fall under the Svengali like sway of Eugene Landy. But he was rescued ultimately by love. Not Mike. The marrying kind.
Brian Wilson presents Smile, an essay in four parts. Part I: Imagine
Imagine... that John Lennon created the Beatles not with Paul McCartney and George Harrison, but with his little brother Winston and his cousin Mycroft Needham, both of which could sing well but not write a song to save them. Then imagine that George Martin, rather than encouraging the Beatles musical development, was jealous of John and kept pressuring him to retain the Mersey sound. Imagine now in this setting that John wrote Sergeant Pepper by himself, presented the songs to the band and they said they wanted to do more Mersey songs instead. Meet Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys and the legendary album Smile.
The Beach Boys for a long time were the only act that could touch the Beatles for sales and fan appeal. But unlike the Beatles, Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys founder, was the only songwriter with "the touch." (In fairness, all of the other original Beach Boys have written songs, but few became hits, and even fewer touched Brian Wilson's second rate stuff.) Moreover, while Brian was the actual producer of the music, in addition to writing it, for many years the "producer" of the Beach Boys was Brian's father Murray Wilson, a hard case who proved to be jealous of his sons and tried to rip Brian's "sound" off with his knockoff band The Sunrays.
And there is one other difference between Brian and his friend and rival Paul McCartney: Brian's talent for lyrics is just not in the same league, so he tended to work with lyricists.
So on the heels of the daring (for the Beach Boys) Pet Sounds and the Beatles Rubber Soul, Brian set out to create a concept album, the whole thing constructed the way one might construct a symphony. And he did. And then the world ended.
The Beach Boys for a long time were the only act that could touch the Beatles for sales and fan appeal. But unlike the Beatles, Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys founder, was the only songwriter with "the touch." (In fairness, all of the other original Beach Boys have written songs, but few became hits, and even fewer touched Brian Wilson's second rate stuff.) Moreover, while Brian was the actual producer of the music, in addition to writing it, for many years the "producer" of the Beach Boys was Brian's father Murray Wilson, a hard case who proved to be jealous of his sons and tried to rip Brian's "sound" off with his knockoff band The Sunrays.
And there is one other difference between Brian and his friend and rival Paul McCartney: Brian's talent for lyrics is just not in the same league, so he tended to work with lyricists.
So on the heels of the daring (for the Beach Boys) Pet Sounds and the Beatles Rubber Soul, Brian set out to create a concept album, the whole thing constructed the way one might construct a symphony. And he did. And then the world ended.
Monday, October 04, 2004
The Child Is the Father of the Man. The Flu Is Father of Fever Dreams
Coming this week, a multi-part essay on the release by Brian Wilson of the album Smile. Just as soon as I am well enough to write.
Friday, October 01, 2004
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Take You Out Of The Ballgame
On the heels of Frank Francisco throwing a chair, Milton Bradley went after a fan who threw a plastic bottle at him after he muffed a play in the field. This is not to excuse Milton. Having experience as an Indians fan with both him and Albert Belle, the player clearly has a problem. But...
So do a certain breed of fan, the one's who take "No batter, no batter" to ugly, sometimes racial, always personal extremes talking about players personal lives and using talk too salty for a sailor. And throwing things at a player is never cool.
Tell me about pampered millionaires all you want and how you paid for your ticket, but remember that they're human just like you, and most of them are giving their best effort. You have a right to express your disapproval. But you have no right to behave in a manner that were you in an alley somewhere would get your posterior beaten up.
No player would ever come out and say this. They'd be called crybabies or somesuch. So I'm saying it. Stop being a jerk. It's just a game.
So do a certain breed of fan, the one's who take "No batter, no batter" to ugly, sometimes racial, always personal extremes talking about players personal lives and using talk too salty for a sailor. And throwing things at a player is never cool.
Tell me about pampered millionaires all you want and how you paid for your ticket, but remember that they're human just like you, and most of them are giving their best effort. You have a right to express your disapproval. But you have no right to behave in a manner that were you in an alley somewhere would get your posterior beaten up.
No player would ever come out and say this. They'd be called crybabies or somesuch. So I'm saying it. Stop being a jerk. It's just a game.
That Kerry-tone Tan
In all fairness, it says nothing about his ability to lead America or what his plans for the future are, but you just have to wonder how on Earth Senator Kerry could think he could shellac on a couple of coats of Instant Tan and not expect people to notice. And the problem is, this little gaffe could have already cost him the debate before it happens.
American Presidential debates are rarely about the issues being argued and rather how the people feel about the people on stage. Al Gore made it hard for anyone to like him and helped George W. Bush to the win as much as any individual thing Bush did. (If you are right now muttering to yourself that George W. Bush didn't win, you either do not understand the electoral college process and the law, or you're one of those. By the rules that were in place at the time of the election, George W. Bush won. Period.)
Ronald Reagan's amiability was a key factor in turning out Jimmy Carter. George H.W. Bush came off better than Michael Dukakis, Bill Clinton better than Papa Bush. It may be short sighted and shallow, but it's the American way and the smart politician deals with it.
Which again leads us to Senator Kerry. His own advisers admit he has a "Thurston Howell" problem. Why then do something to make him seem further out of touch with America? Doesn't he know regular guys make fun of guys who turn orange overnight?
However, much like the "$87 billion" pirouette, there's no corking the genie on this one. Best he can do is relax, speak clearly and succinctly, smile, and not say a thing about sports. And wipe that orange goo off before someone calls him the Great Pumpkin.
American Presidential debates are rarely about the issues being argued and rather how the people feel about the people on stage. Al Gore made it hard for anyone to like him and helped George W. Bush to the win as much as any individual thing Bush did. (If you are right now muttering to yourself that George W. Bush didn't win, you either do not understand the electoral college process and the law, or you're one of those. By the rules that were in place at the time of the election, George W. Bush won. Period.)
Ronald Reagan's amiability was a key factor in turning out Jimmy Carter. George H.W. Bush came off better than Michael Dukakis, Bill Clinton better than Papa Bush. It may be short sighted and shallow, but it's the American way and the smart politician deals with it.
Which again leads us to Senator Kerry. His own advisers admit he has a "Thurston Howell" problem. Why then do something to make him seem further out of touch with America? Doesn't he know regular guys make fun of guys who turn orange overnight?
However, much like the "$87 billion" pirouette, there's no corking the genie on this one. Best he can do is relax, speak clearly and succinctly, smile, and not say a thing about sports. And wipe that orange goo off before someone calls him the Great Pumpkin.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Kool-ing off O'Reilly
Bill O'Reilly explained in a political context what a Kool-Aid® Drinker is, but he missed one fact.
[Actual text of e-mail]Bonus nerd points: the flavor was grape.
To: Bill O'Reilly
From: [me]
Re: Kool-Aid® Korrection
I think that the people at Kraft Foods would like you to point out that the drink that was actually served at Jonestown, Guyana was in fact Flavor-Aid, a cheaper imitation of Kool-Aid.
[Name and town, name and town, as I wished to opine]
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Electoral College Undergrad
Since I was unhappy with the methodology being used by another person tracking the day to day changes in the Electoral College map regarding this election, I have decided to do my own version, which may be found here. It is my sincere hope that I will be able to keep this up on a daily basis until November's election, but between doing this blog itself, taking a class in Visual Basic programming, and actually working for a living, I am not sure whether I will meet this self-imposed goal or not.
As I say on the linked to page, I do have a rooting interest, but as far as the page goes, it will be an accurate reflection of the numbers. Since my source numbers are checkable, I will count on you keeping me on my toes. Good thing I borrowed my niece's ballet shoes.
As I say on the linked to page, I do have a rooting interest, but as far as the page goes, it will be an accurate reflection of the numbers. Since my source numbers are checkable, I will count on you keeping me on my toes. Good thing I borrowed my niece's ballet shoes.
Friday, September 24, 2004
Homework for the weekend
- Tell someone from your past that you appreciate that you do, in fact, appreciate them.
- Genuinely compliment one person each day.
- Find something about yourself you find positive. Celebrate it.
- Read an entire article in a magazine about a subject you have no interest in.
- Try something to eat or drink you've never had before.
Report back on Monday.
Why Bill Gates is worth a zillion dollars and Marvel Comics isn't.
Call them Micro$oft if you like, call his OSs Emmenthaler-ware if you must, but, like Aretha Franklin, give Bill Gates his propers when you get home. Because he knows at least one secret of staying on top: if you can't beat 'em, co-opt 'em.
Cross platform software and web deployment were ideas too good for even the mighty Microsoft® boot to crush, so, recognizing this, he decided that if there was going to be cross platform, it would be his, creating the .NET architecture to, basically, out Java™ Java™.
But what does this have to do with Marvel Comics™? Well, I play a game called Freedom Force™, where you take a team of ersatz superheroes through several adventures. The company that made it, Irrational Games, made it pretty customizable. And if you could get your hands on 3DS Max, you could make your own figures for the game. And of course someone did and did. And they proceeded to make Marvel characters among others.
Only problem is, Marvel wants to make and sell its own video games for its characters. So in true "Hulk smash!" fashion, it's been busting Irrational Games's chops about the Freedom Force fanbase making figures and scenarios. They want it to stop, so that people will play their games for their characters. I have no problem with that. But from what I am told, most of those games aren't as good as Freedom Force.
So what's a mother to do? Well, if that mother is Bill Gates, he licenses his characters for Freedom Force. He makes Irrational Games pay through the nose, who then passes those costs onto you. He gets rich, Irrational gets rich, fans are poorer but happy. Instead, Marvel aggravates a piece of their dwindling fanbase.
So where is DC Comics, the house of Superman, in all of this? Nowhere, it seems, and that's a shame. Because if DC were to license Freedom Force first, it would give them a monster share of the action and leave Marvel out in the cold. But DC isn't exactly Bill Gates either, it seems.
So the moral of the story is that, as a capitalist, Bill Gates has earned a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Cross platform software and web deployment were ideas too good for even the mighty Microsoft® boot to crush, so, recognizing this, he decided that if there was going to be cross platform, it would be his, creating the .NET architecture to, basically, out Java™ Java™.
But what does this have to do with Marvel Comics™? Well, I play a game called Freedom Force™, where you take a team of ersatz superheroes through several adventures. The company that made it, Irrational Games, made it pretty customizable. And if you could get your hands on 3DS Max, you could make your own figures for the game. And of course someone did and did. And they proceeded to make Marvel characters among others.
Only problem is, Marvel wants to make and sell its own video games for its characters. So in true "Hulk smash!" fashion, it's been busting Irrational Games's chops about the Freedom Force fanbase making figures and scenarios. They want it to stop, so that people will play their games for their characters. I have no problem with that. But from what I am told, most of those games aren't as good as Freedom Force.
So what's a mother to do? Well, if that mother is Bill Gates, he licenses his characters for Freedom Force. He makes Irrational Games pay through the nose, who then passes those costs onto you. He gets rich, Irrational gets rich, fans are poorer but happy. Instead, Marvel aggravates a piece of their dwindling fanbase.
So where is DC Comics, the house of Superman, in all of this? Nowhere, it seems, and that's a shame. Because if DC were to license Freedom Force first, it would give them a monster share of the action and leave Marvel out in the cold. But DC isn't exactly Bill Gates either, it seems.
So the moral of the story is that, as a capitalist, Bill Gates has earned a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Radio Show Progress - a haiku
Haven't called station.
Too much work and too much fear.
Must do something soon.
Too much work and too much fear.
Must do something soon.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Even I wanted to punch me
I am taking a class in Visual Basic. I did my homework over the weekend (between football and baseball) and turned it in today. The teacher was impressed, so much so that he called the other students over to look at what I had done. At that point I had that old feeling I had from the days I was "the smartest kid in the room," which is to say that they were going to beat me up for showing them up. Only I wasn't showing anyone up, I was just playing around with stuff, learning stuff off the page (which in my mind is really what learning is about.) The problem with doing stuff like that, though, is that other people feel (without reason) that they have to match you in order to stay in the picture. It's how in sports they say someone like Michael Jordan makes his whole team better.
At any rate, the next time you see someone turn in a stellar effort, remember that it is not meant in any way, shape or form to be a reflection on you.
At any rate, the next time you see someone turn in a stellar effort, remember that it is not meant in any way, shape or form to be a reflection on you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)