Category: Media

  • Reading about Andor

    Reading about Andor

    I finished the second season of Andor: A Star Wars Story (or whatever they’re terming it now), turned around and rewatched both seasons, and started looking at articles and podcasts about the show. In particular I started looking at Tony Gilroy’s interest in bringing in real world historical examples of authoritarian governments, and the resistance movements against them, and how he worked them into the Star Wars universe. Star Wars has always been about resistance against tyranical regimes; Andor just tells the story from a different angle.

    In the course of searching for politically themed material, I also came across so much more. The art of the set and costume design, the art of structuring the story in three episode arcs, the way leaving so much unsaid, or happening off camera, helps shape the story and focus it.

    This post is just a place for me to collect links to things I’ve read, listened to. and watched. I’m likely to add to it as I find other pieces I want to remember and perhaps go back to. It doesn’t necessarily mean I agree with everything the people in the collection say. However, I’d recommend the two podcasts with Wajahat Ali and Danielle Moody very highly, as well as Thomas Coombes’ piece, “Star Wars show Andor is the story about resistance we need right now: Why science fiction matters for social change

    (more…)
  • Change is hard, but you knew that

    Reflections on Wonkette moving to a new platform, and our curmudgeonly fellow commenters

    [cross posted from my Substack]

    A big portion of my online life for the last two days has been grappling with new ways of interacting with fellow readers of the finest snark emporium on the interwebs, Wonkette.com. They moved from whatever place was hosting the website over to Substack, dumped the long-despised but heavily used commenting platform Disqus, and then all hell broke loose.

    Which, when you’re dealing with a few hundred eccentric opinionated loyalists to the Wonkette Cause, is to be expected. Metaphors popped into my mind, primarily learning to ride a bike the first time ever, or learning to use my first average-intelligence flip phone, or later, my first smart-phone. In all those situations, I had to translate ways I had been doing things to some new fangled procedures, and it was Never Nice. I simultaneously would feel like a stupid dork and be furious that the device wasn’t doing what I thought it should.

    And then it gets better.

    As I told Rebecca Schoenkopf, we’re a curmudgeonly species. As the complaints and whiny posts and frustrations played out on Substack’s various user-contribution modes (Comments, Notes and Chats), some were ready to dump the whole affair, others could only focus on how it was different from Disqus, the system we constantly complained about, and crashed under the onslought of our cat GIFs and youtube embeds. A few of us talked about what we did like about the platform, as we poked around trying to figure out what does what, and got some pushback.

    I felt bad for Rebecca, and not a little pissy with some of my fellow commenters. Come on, you guys, I’d think, you haven’t even been doing this for a whole damn day yet! We’ll figure it out! Not for the first time, I wished some of the talented programmers who frequent the discussions would band together to write a good, stable commenting system. But since I can’t raise the funds, I don’t have much faith that pipe dream.

    But we’ll be ok. Like two-wheeled vehicles and computer-ified phones, we’ll learn the ropes. A few people won’t follow along, a lot of new people will join in. Like we always do, we’ll help each other figure out how to make it work; we won’t be able to satisfy every plea for help but while get most of it sorted out.

    And, in this partiular case, I’m hoping it save Wonkette a lot of money, and provides a better platform for getting their articles out.

    Learn something new every day!

  • Should the media boycott White House press conferences?

    Should the media boycott White House press conferences?

    The farther we get into the Trump administration, the more bizarre the press conferences get.  I was going to try to put together a whole set of examples of Just How Bizarre (including, of course Melissa McCarthy spoofs), the pattern of classic Denial-Non-Denials, the outright lies, the demeaning of the press, the habit of our not-so-dear leader contradicting his spokesfolk, the strange walling off of the press during certain events and trips, the shut down on video or audio feeds from time to time, and so on.  But I’ll cut to the chase here, as most of us tracking the Trump debacle are familiar with what I listed.

    As a result of the Trump style of running a communications office, there are some people calling for a boycott on the White House press events.  If the Communications Office is just going to flat-out lie and mislead, what’s the point? If the press can’t get a straight answer out of the WH press office, why even bother?

    I think a different tactic is called for.  Send an intern.

    I don’t think the media should ignore the White House press office altogether.  It’s interesting to see what it is the administration wants to convey to the press.  It’s useful to look at the talking points they put out, and how (and when) Trump contradicts so much of it.  It’s important to track the disabling of the media at the hands of the Oval Office.  It’s critical that the lies, and unfulfilled promises, are on the record.

    But do experienced journalists need to do this? Particularly when the Trump and his team have allowed media such as conspiracy theory website infowars, or Brietbart, in as official WH correspondents, isn’t it a bit of an insult to put qualified journalists in the same staged, fake-news event as those hacks?  I do have some sympathy for the boycott idea, after all.

    But nope, I say send in the newbies, let them cut their teeth on this sham of an administration while real journalists do real work elsewhere.  When (and hopefully it’s not an “if”) things ever get back to normal, they can sort out who belongs in those chairs.  While those chairs represent sitting for a crafted, disingenuous, distracting performance, let the interns track it.

  • Silence and Vigilance

    fight-truth-decay-man-with-signBetween the alt-fact efforts of new White House communications director Sean Spicer, and the shutdown of public communication from many federal agencies — EPA in particular; science-oriented offices in general — an obvious pattern is developing. The new WH is shutting off dialog, and keeping public eyes off of government agency work.  In some ways this doesn’t surprise me; Republican administrations seem to be less open than Democratic ones. Though the Obama administration was not as transparent as many hoped, it certainly did open the cyber doors to lots of input, as well as real life efforts to communicate with the public.  I expected it to swing back to a more closed system with the incoming administration, but it’s been much more severe than I anticipated.

    The key to how this goes from here will hinge on how the press and the social-media-using public decides to get information out.

    Social media is strong, and a major part of how the average citizen shares information about what is happening in the public sphere, but it’s still sort of figuring itself out. Thankfully I’m seeing my friends catch fake news more often, challenge poorly researched assertions in articles, and using the strengths of the medium to share what we are all observing.  But it’s not perfect, and we’ll need to up our vigilance in weeding out the bad info from the good if it’s to be effective in a time when gaslighting seems to be the norm coming out of the Trump administration.

    And the press has to be vigilant as well, and in this area, huge swaths of the American press have been pretty damn lazy over the last few years.  Fortunately for those of us reading their work, Trump and his minions have both pissed the press off and committed themselves to such such stupid, obvious falsehoods, that many journalists are ready to start digging in, and the ones who already were taking all of this seriously are getting support for doing so.

    Trump is engaged in a misinformation campaign. This is partly a strategy to allow the GOP to make sweeping partisan changes, and partly in service to Trump’s massive ego (juxtaposed next to a constantly crumbling sense of self worth). And it wears us out, public and press alike.  Whether its intent is to numb us through a ever-renewing cascade of laughably stupid and/or outrageously offensive statements, or that’s just the convenient natural consequence of all of the tweets and press statements and odd moments at the podium, the effect is the same: silencing us by making us weary of absorbing the blistering stupidity of it all.

    But we can’t allow that.  As consumers of journalism, or as the creators of it, we can’t let ourselves be worn down.  And we can’t forget that while the press and us, its audience, is the target of this effort, the war is on objective truth.

    It will be tempting for a lot of journalists to buy into the idea that they are the ones who are under assault. But they will do their jobs if/when they recognize that it is the truth that is under attack and the goal is to create the kind of chaos where anything is possible.

    LeTourneau asks her fellow journalists to help us all avoid a world where, given that the truth is impossible to ascertain, there no longer remains any avenue, or point to trying to find it.

    So, the press has to find footing in a very unsteady stream.  I suspect this will only work if the press divorces itself from, for instance, relying on WH press office statements to determine fact, which have become talking points without basis in subtance. The press will need to look elsewhere. This will be hard, this will be expensive, and it relies on public support, in paying the bills the media incurs just to get the job done, and in demanding careful journalism.

    The key is to keep our vigilance going. We cannot allow ourselves to be silenced, nor can we afford to let the press be silenced.

     

  • Out of the loop in the Ad Wars

    Andrew Sullivan has been tracking the Ad Wars between the Obama and Romney campaigns.

    New research from Kantar Media’s CMAG paints a dramatic picture of the unprecedented amount of ads that voters are being exposed to this cycle – as much as three to twelve times as many as in past elections:

    via Ad War Update: The Ad Election – The Dish | By Andrew Sullivan – The Daily Beast.

    It occurs to me that this will be the first presidential election in which I won’t be inundated by campaign ads. I won’t even be coming home to robo-calls from Susan Sarandon and Robert Redford, now that I’ve been land-line free for 3 years.  I won’t be completely ad-free, but my main contact with campaign ads would normally be the TV – and in the light of the recession and the fact that I work when most of my fave shows are on, and tune into them on websites, not on cable… well, suffice it to say: it made the best sense to dump all the expensive cable packages, and I won’t be seeing many ads this year unless I intentionally que them up online.

    Weird. And somehow comforting!

    But I will still miss my celebrity voice mails….

  • Harassment as management speak

    Ta-Nehisi Coates comments on a New York state assemblyman’s sexual harassment of his staff, after the accused grudgingly admitted he made a “mistake” – really? You think? Prompting this from my new favorite blogger:

    Sexual harassment laws were basically invented for people who think “I’d like it better if you didn’t have a bra on” qualifies as management-speak.

    via Why We Have Sexual Harassment Laws – Ta-Nehisi Coates – The Atlantic.

    And part of what I love is that the writer is a man.  20 years ago, I would have been truly amazed to read this coming from most male writers, certainly the ones writing for magazines like The Atlantic. Now, I am pleasantly surprised to find a succinct line of criticism, which could have just as easily come from a female perspective.

    Things do change!

  • Why I want to (but don’t) write to my favorite celebs

    I often want to write to beloved authors, or admired politicians, or otherwise famous people. I rarely do. Sometimes, but mostly to my current reps in local government, or maybe my state or national representatives. But artists? Orators? Activists? I always figure my message is but one of a gazillion or two, a drop in a bucket, a large bucket for some. What could it matter, my measly words on paper or in an email, praise from some who doesn’t figure into anything big or important?

    Still, the urge to write remains. Sometimes it works itself into something written, yet never sent. Sometimes the sentiments seep into a blog post, or a reply in a comment section online. Mostly that kind of stuff floats around in my head, thoughts structured as words, but never committed to voice, paper, or bits and bytes.

    But the essence of my desire to communicate remains.  What is it? what is this thing that asks to be spoken, written.

    I think in it’s simplest form, that desire to write a thank you letter comes down to this: “without knowing me personally, you affected me personally.”

    That is indeed a magical thing. Worth acknowledging. Worth thanking someone for.

    I saw a quote from Carl Sagan today that kind of hits the same spot:

    What an astonishing thing a book is. It’s a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic.

    What a weird, special relationship to have with someone you’ve never met, and probably or certainly will never meet. And it seems so strange when their work – a gift to strangers that they, for the most part, will never meet – can have such deep and lasting impacts on me.

    Ursula K. LeGuin. Frank Herbert. J.R.R. Tolkien. Louisa May Alcott. Emma Goldman. Malcolm X. Those are just the first names that pop up when I think, late at night, tired, two Tanqueray & tonics in my system. I’m sure I missed many, and some perhaps more important.

    But still, the essence remains: individuals who, unknowingly, pushed me to think or act or reflect differently, always from the past, sometimes a very distant past. Sometimes from a life story, other times from an imagined place, a story, a tale, a snippet from life.

    A weird twisting, mutable kind of human communication, of cause and effect.

    Magic.

  • Round-face Newt

    I was watching Rachel Maddow run down the latest on the current (and dwindling) Republican presidential field. This is my screen capture from the segment:

    RachelMaddow-ScreenCapture-13Jan2011Show-400x260pxl

    It struck me all of a sudden: every face on that screen – except Newt – was the face of a “healthy-weight” person. Longer and thinner, and more angular because of that.

    Not Newt. Newt is a kind of stocky guy, in the parlance of my childhood. He’s a heavier man. I don’t really care, figuring it to be his own business. But it does occur to me that any female candidate bigger than “pleasantly plump” (also in the parlance of my childhood*) would surely be the target of fat jokes just like any celebrity, of questions as to her ability to maintain control over things (she can’t even control her weight!), of some unspecified derision.

    Such are the lives of fat women – criticized by unthinking people who have no clue whether it is a choice or not, and even if choice is involved, who are we to say?

    So the absence of critique of Newt’s round face, or pudgy belly, or whatever fruit might be ripe for comedic pickings, is actually the way things should  be: attention on the person’s policy beliefs, ability to get things done, to attempt to prove their worth as a leader. Which Newt will not, at least not to enough people.

    But for all his bluster, I think Newt at least thinks of himself seriously, at least some of the time.  I think he lives in a dream world, but within his framework, he at least attempts to make sense. And those are the things the voters focus on, for good or bad, when considering Newt.  Not his weight. His ideas, his record, his potential. Hate him, love him, it’s not about his physique, it’s about what’s going on in that crackpot li’l head of his.

    Which, as I noted above, is the way things should be. For everyone, male or female.

     

    * I think from descriptions of“Bess” in the Nancy Drew books.

  • TV SoundOff: Sunday Talking Heads

    Why I read Jason Linkins’ “Sunday Talking Heads” blog nearly every week (except when he has the audacity to take a weekend off, the heel!): he brings the balance to the boredom of the mediocre Sunday line up, adding a little spice to the mix. In this particular excerpt, he takes aim at bad metaphors.

    Oh, remember, Michele Bachmann has been “on the tip of the spear” fighting Obamacare, and just needs voters to grab the shaft. And then more mixed metaphors! She’s the “proven candidate who’s been tested by fire in the lion’s den of Washington, DC.” Seems to me that the key feature of lions’ dens are the lions, and not fire. I’d call that the “fire room,” or something, and I’d be like, “Lions! Get up on out of there!” And the lions would be all, “Sweet Lion God! We were just in our den, denning it up, when some raving woman came in with all this fire, yelling about Obamacare.” And I’d be like, “Damn, lions! That sounds awful traumatic!” And then I’d take the lions to the Rodeo Drive of Washington and tell them to “TREAT YO SELF.” Then the lions would devour a bunch of lobbyists, and I’d probably be prosecuted for aiding and abetting that.

    Anyway, Michele Bachmann has faced the fire of the lions den, the slings and arrows of the racetrack, the guillotines of the Library of Congress, and the poisoned ping pong balls of that Starbucks that just opened on K Street, the Rodeo Drive of Washington.

    via TV SoundOff: Sunday Talking Heads.

    *sigh*

    back to normal life, now.