Monthly Archives: September 2009

Where the Wild Things Were: Life, Death, and Ecological Wreckage in a Land of Vanishing Predators, by William Stolzenburg

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On the tip of Washington’s Olympic Peninsula, ecology professor Robert T. Paine threw starfish into the sea.  In Alaska, killer whales preyed on sea otters.  In the northern forests of Wisconsin, massive deer herds mowed down several species of wildflower.  What do these disparate actions have in common?  In Where the Wild Things Were: life, death, and ecological wreckage in a land of vanishing predators, author and nature columnist William Stolzenburg explores what happens when top-tier predators go extinct.  Discussing several case studies, ranging from the tiny starfish to the polar bear-eating killer whale, Stolzenburg shows the ecological devastation following top-tier predator extinction.

When Robert T. Paine threw the Pisaster starfish into the sea, in an experiment of daring simplicity, his discovery illustrated the dangers involved with a trophic cascade.  In layman’s terms, with the predatory Pisaster gone, mussels soon overran the rock pool Paine used for his experiment.  Anyone who has read about invasive species like the Zebra mussel and the Snakehead will understand the situation.

Stolzenburg’s book illustrates the dilemma posed by the white-tailed deer.  With the removal of the wolf, coyote, and bear, the deer population has boomed to astronomical levels.  Like the mussels overrunning the smaller organisms in the rock pool, the deer have acted like a massive lawnmower, clear-cutting endangered wildflower species.  This becomes a serious problem in the US National Park system, where tourism dollars and photogenic elk herds clash.  What do park administrators do?  In these days of lowered budgets, every tourist dollar counts.  But at what cost?  Preservation of endangered species versus maintenance of the bottom line become the new battleground.

In a recent ad for Timberland boots, the tag line reads: “If you’re not fast, you’re food.”  The book also highlights that the removal of top-tier predators from the ecosystem also removes the prey’s instinctive fear.  Luckily, once predators were re-introduced into Yellowstone, the natural “fear factor” of the elk population soon returned.

Where the Wild Things Were is a marvelous book, well-written, and filled with exciting passages.  Stolzenburg makes discussions of academic theories and passages of predators hunting prey contain the same measure of thrills.  This is popular science writing at its best.

The Art of Reviewing: Special Case File #1: The movie “300″

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Every blog needs a large-scale project. The Art of Reviewing will explore reviewing as an art form and as a valuable element to understanding society.  During this project, I will profile specific reviewers of merit.  Several specific cases also explore other facets of reviewing.

Special Case File #1: The movie 300

In this installation of the Art of Reviewing, the focus will be on a single cultural product.  The movie is 300 (Zak Snyder, 2006).  In the halcyon days of Dubya’s second term, the film adapted a comic book written by Frank Miller.  In the process creating a sensational CGI box office hit that seemed to make Michael Bay’s film work seem understated and tightly plotted.

One of the rare pleasures of cinematic travesties is the vitriol they unleash in critics.  Two examples in particular shine out, because of their honesty, writing style, and emotional firepower.

The first is not so much a review as a vicious indictment of modern cinema.  Entitled “Rants & Hyperbolic Ejaculations,” it remains true to its form.  It is a common misperception that a rant is badly written.  A good rant is like a cruise missile, aimed to fly straight into a target and leave nothing behind.  Just because the author gets emotional and wields words like brickbat does not mean they are wrong.  Read and make up your own mind:

Excerpt from “Rants & Hyperbolic Ejaculations” by Cliff Burns

(Visit the author’s website and blog, Beautiful Desolation.)

A trip to the video store is enough to send my blood pressure soaring. As I walk up and down in the “New Release” section I see:

-200 copies of the latest comic book adaptation (crap)
-100 copies of the latest installment of a slasher/horror/snuff film franchise (“Boogeyman VIII”, “Hacksaw VI”, etc.—utter and complete crap)
-100 copies of the latest romantic comedy starring the latest pretty faces (crap)
-20 copies of the latest indie film about twenty-somethings looking for love or meaning in a world largely indifferent to their angst and vulnerability (crap)

So, inevitably, I skip “New Releases” and wander back into the stacks, hoping I’ll spot some Walter Hill actioner I haven’t seen for awhile or grabbing a full season of “Deadwood” on DVD or “South Park”, if I’m feeling particularly frisky. I also look forward to our family’s monthly trips to Saskatoon (the nearest population center of any size) so I can pillage the shelves of that city’s Central Library, securing as many of the movies on my “Wish List” as I can find. Our last excursion to Toontown was particularly rewarding; I brought back the aforementioned “Mon Oncle” along with Nicholas Ray’s “In A Lonely Place”, Georges Henri Clouzot’s “The Wages of Fear”, Chaplin’s “Limelight” and a couple of films in Val Lewton’s weird oeuvre. Not one movie was more recent than 1956. Fuck it, what’s the point?

CGI (computer graphics) has taken over the world. Now you can shoot movies without sets, without a coherent script, without expensive crowd scenes and there is no limit to what you can portray. You can propel your audience from one end of the universe to the other, from the far future to the distant past.

Take “300” for example. Yes, take it and stick it up your ass.

I know, I know, it was #1 at the box office for three weeks and everybody and his kid brother was telling you what a brilliant film it was. Funny thing that: you had high school students lining up at the movie theatres, inflating its gross earnings…and yet the film was supposed to be “18A”, wasn’t it? That means there were a whole lotta theatre owners looking the other way as pimply faced kids with fuzz on their chins ponied up the dough and went inside to see one of the most ultra-violent shows since Leatherface strapped on a chainsaw and went looking for fun. Where were the folks who are supposed to be guarding our kids against such smut…more to the point, where the fuck were their parents?

I think one reviewer put it best when he said the target audience for “300” was “emotionally disturbed fourteen year olds”.

You know, of course, that “300” was based on a comic book by Frank Miller. That’s right, comic book. Go ahead, defenders of so-called “graphic novels”, take me to task. I’ve read plenty of ’em (including offerings by Miller, Grant Morrison, Joss Whedon, etc.) and it’s my contention that the basic level of writing hasn’t much improved since I was a tweenie devouring Batman and Spiderman comics by the pound.

But the comic book/graphic novel is the perfect format for brain dead twerps who are daunted by all those words in traditional books. They need purty pictures to keep their attention. Ritalin, apparently, isn’t doing the job.

The sad thing is the story of the Spartans is one of the greatest ever told. I urge you to find a of copy of Stephen Pressfield’s amazing account of the battle of Thermopylae, Gates of Fire. You will be absolutely blown away.

The makers of “300” utterly fail to capture the human drama, the scale of the sacrifice, opting to slavishly adapt Miller’s comic book, subjecting every frame to computer tweaking, creating lovely, eye-grabbing tableaux…with nothing at the centre. “Visually stunning” is the term I’ve read over and over again in almost every review. Okay, it’s nice to look at but what about the stupid script, the histrionic over-acting, the inaccuracies? Mere quibbles, supporters sniff dismissively.

When I first saw the promo ad for “300” I was, alternately, enraged and amused. The “Matrix”-like choreography was ridiculous…but the Scottish brogue of the chap who was cast as the Spartan king Leonidas was hilarious. I mean, this fucker sounded like Willie, the janitor from “The Simpson’s”! I was soon entertaining friends and family by re-enacting my version of “300”: “Lissen, laddie, we Spartans are mighty tough people and dinnae think you Purrsian gits are gonnae walk over us…”

“300” is a movie made by people raised on video games for gamers whose brains have been devoured by years of hours spent battling virtual ogres, their thumbs swelling to an unnatural size (frontal lobes shrinking commensurately). If you liked the movie, you’re a moron; if you bobbed your head in eager agreement when that fathead Richard Roeper called Miller’s comic book the “Citizen Kane”(!) of graphic novels, you’ve obviously no idea what film he was alluding to. Mentioning “300” in the same breath as Welles’ masterwork is like comparing an “Archie Digest” to Moby Dick. So fuck you very much, Richard Roeper.

In “Kane”, Orson Welles revolutionized an art form and created a landmark film that sixty years later still tops critics’ polls as the greatest movie ever made. How will posterity treat “300”? As just another mindless blockbuster, a manufactured, computer-simulated experience in the tradition of “Titanic” and Peter Jackson’s overblown take on “King Kong”.

These films have no heart, no brains and, in the final analysis, none of the gripping human drama that makes great art resonate down through the ages. They are fluff, confections, deserving nothing from serious film mavens but our contempt and vilification.

“300” is cinema for the lobotomized.

The second review was written by Matt Christman for his blog, Worse than Hitler.  (Full disclosure: Matt and I were both teaching assistants at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee.)  While Burns’s rant is a brilliant use of the long form to deconstruct 300, Christman takes the film out at the knees with verbal precision and snark.  For similar satirical wit and ferocity, one could examine the epigrammatic work of Karl Kraus and Ambrose Bierce.

From Worse than Hitler, a blog by Matt Christman

A Mathematical Movie Review

Triumph of the Will + God of War on Playstation 3 * The Tony Curtis and Lawrence Olivier scene from Spartacus / The messageboards at FreeRepublic.com = 300

Similar spectacles of critical hyperventilation have followed in the wake of controversial films, from The Last Temptation of Christ to JFK to the Golden Compass.  In all cases, astute readers should follow the simple dictum, “Consider the source.”  When reading reviews, you should know where the reviewer is coming from.  Who are these people that love 300?  Why do they love the movie?  Are those reasons valid?

Taste is a subjective phenomenon.  However, it should not be immediately dismissed because of its inherent subjectivity.  Varieties of internal and external factors make up every person’s sensitivities regarding taste.  The movie 300 is a good litmus test for assessing taste.

Guild Musings: Musing #1: The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

“The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” – Gil Scott-Heron

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Note: To avoid confusion, italics will differentiate the Guild (show) from the Guild (group of characters).

Two episodes into its third season, The Guild has become an Internet phenomenon.  The show follows the comic misadventures of various gamers associated with The Knights of Good, a guild in a MMORPG [Massive Multi-player Online Role Playing Game].  While the game they play involves mythical creatures, fantastic quests, and cool costumes, the shows follows their day-to-day lives.  In another nod to the MMORPG, the players do not address each other by their real names but by their online nicknames.

guildCodex and Zaboo share a mediated experience.

Each episode begins with Codex (played by Felicia Dey) facing the viewer and talking about her problems.  It is reminiscent of the Video Confessional on “reality programming.”  In this case, the webcam replaces the video camera.  Following each Online Confessional, the Guild deals with some problem, major or minor, depending on how socialized each member is with the outside world.

While the Guild is a spot-on satire of MMORPG players, the show’s success may point to trends in the ever-changing world of New Media.  This season, the Guild debuted on Xbox, then other video game platforms, eventually “going wide” on MSN Video.

I don’t have cable.  I also don’t watch broadcast TV.  I keep up with events and my favorite TV shows in other alternative ways.  I belong to Netflix and I watch TV shows on Hulu and video clips on YouTube.  The revolution won’t be televised because of some idealistic Luddite event will happen.  The revolution won’t be televised because it doesn’t need to be.  YouTube has proven fatal to politicians prone to verbal gaffes and insensitive statements.  The Internet sprouts memes and parodies at lightning speed.  We find ourselves, the viewing public, in a period of technological change and social flux.  Don’t worry, it happens periodically.  Apocalyptic rhetoric aside, the anxiety will lessen when things become more standardized.  The latest fracas between Blu-ray and DVD HD is only one example.

If you don’t mind being a year behind, then Netflix offers many advantages to the standard cable package.  Price, variety, and availability make it far superior to cable.  Cable itself has superseded broadcast television, since television is technically broadcast via satellite dishes and antennae.  However, even the year lag does not apply to all Netflix offerings.  I recently viewed No Reservations: Season Six via the Watch Instantly feature prior to the DVD release.

Which brings us back in roundabout fashion to the Guild: Season Three. In the first episode, Codex and her Guild-mates are sitting outside the local GameStop shop.  They await the release of the new expansion pack for their MMORPG.  All is going well until a crew of black-shirted baddies cut in front of them.  In a nod to RPG character-naming obviousness, they call themselves The Axis of Anarchy.  Wil Wheaton plays their leader, a nice bit of pop cultural referencing because Wheaton is a long pop cultural footnote.  Wheaton played Wesley Crusher on Star Trek: The Next Generation and wrote a weekly column called “Games of Our Lives” for the AV Club.

The omnipresence of the Internet and availability of alternate media sources will create new challenges to the traditional media of TV, radio, and film.  But now are not the End Days, since people still read books and go to the movies.  To paraphrase Mark Twain, “Reports of the death of television have been greatly exaggerated.”

The Art of Reviewing: Jeremy Clarkson

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Source: The London Times

Every blog needs a large-scale project. The Art of Reviewing will explore reviewing as an art form and as a valuable element to understanding society.  During this project, I will profile specific reviewers of merit.  Several specific cases also explore other facets of reviewing.

Jeremy Clarkson.  Depending on whom you talk to, mentioning his name usually follows adulation or vilification.  The tall, shaggy-haired presenter of Top Gear and Driving columnist for the London Times, brings a sensational edge to the staid world of automobile reviewing.

Prone to bombastic statements, dismissive of anti-pollution legislation, and a worshipful acolyte of Ferrari, Clarkson is an equal opportunity offender.  Reading his reviews in the Times and watching his segments on Top Gear reveal someone madly, obsessively in love with the car and the combustion engine.

His review on the Spyker C8 is evidence of that:

Besides being solidly entertained, Clarkson offers pertinent information on each vehicle (horsepower, design, handling, etc.) and a few choice zingers.  The segment is also miniature of art, showcasing the cars in a worshipful fashion but never descending into the empty visual posturing of noted car commercial auteurs Michael Bay and Tony Scott.

Book Review: Descent of Angels (The Horus Heresy, Book 6) by Mitchel Scanlon

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The Horus Heresy series continues in its sixth installment, Descent of Angels, written by Mitchel Scanlon. The series makes a major reversal with this series. Scanlon has written previous novels for the Black Library, but his work involves the Warhammer brand, the epic fantasy sister ‘verse to the space fantasy of Warhammer 40K. Unlike previous volumes, the action occurs on one planet under circumstances one could label “low-tech.”

Descent of Angels begins with an original story, telling the tale of how humanity settled on the planet Caliban.  The settlers became separated from the rest of humanity because of warp storms (the Warp being the means of interstellar travel).  The separation lasted 5000 years.  In that space of time, the human settlers created their own mythology, culture, and defense systems.  The major obstacle to settlement on this heavily forested planet was the great beasts, nightmarish monsters reminiscent of H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu mythos.

The novel follows Zahariel, Knight Supplicant of the Order, in his rise to full knighthood.  The Order, unlike other knightly orders, considers all men created equal, regardless of birth or position.  Zahariel is in awe of the Order’s future Grand Master, Lion El’Jonson, a superhuman giant found in the woods battling beasts with his bare hands.

During Zahariel’s ascent to full knighthood, he becomes aware of a “gift” he possesses, an uncanny ability to “read” people.  He keeps this gift secret until members of the Dark Angels Space Marine legion descend upon Caliban, ending 5000 years of separation.

The novel can be seen as a Pre-Contact novel, to borrow the phrase from colonial studies.  The majority of the novel does not involve the Imperium of Man and the Space Marines arrive well into the book’s second half.  Ideologically, the book takes place when the Imperium espoused a rationalistic, explicitly atheist position.  A previous volume, Flight of the Eisenstein, traces the transition from this militant atheism to the “Church Militant” phase, when the Emperor was considered a living god.  It is nice to see a franchise not adhere to a rigorously linear storyline between volumes.  The vastness of the Warhammer 40K universe and multitude of Space Marine chapters offers more opportunities to non-traditional storytelling.  In addition, it is easier to drag out a series when it is not the standard linear storyline.  (The sitcom How I Met Your Mother, a 3-camera sitcom, excels in plot contortions and subverting the standard linear storyline.)

In full disclosure, standard fantasy is not my favorite genre to read.  I enjoy the Warhammer 40K space fantasies.  It was enjoyable to read this volume of the Horus Heresy series because it was not the usual Tolkien Boilerplate Knock-off, although Warhammer 40K originated as such in the 1980s.

Descent of Angels is another exciting read in the ever-expanding Horus Heresy series.

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On a personal note, I was underwhelmed.  In a word, “Meh.”