Random thoughts from Argentina.

Buenos Aires is distressingly urban. More so than New York and Madrid.

Traffic lanes are merely suggestions, if that. Driving seems to be accomplished principally through bullying.

Argentines apparently only drink Malbec. And Quilmes, the national beer, is no good at all.

Argentina may be home to the best meat in the world, but I wouldn't know because they bread everything.

Medialunas are delicious.

Avenida 9 de Julio is indeed the biggest street in the world.

La Boca is too touristy. Instead visit the Recoleta Cemetery and the Metropolitan Cathedral.

Maradona is still fat. So are his fakes.

If the city survives Starship Troopers annihilation and is instead wiped out by the 12 Monkeys plague, it will be overrun with stray cats.

Dogs, on the other hand, seem to be well taken care of. Paseadores de perros walk through the streets tending to 12 dogs at a time.

German descendants in Argentina seem to inherit a lot of money. I wonder why.

This was the first time I have travelled abroad and not felt embarrassed to be an American. Obamamania is all over South America. Everybody wants to talk Obama.

Netflix Two Cents: Intercontinental Flight Edition

Yes Man (2008)

Verdict: A tragic documentary on how our imprudent and spendthrift culture ushered in the sub-prime mortgage debacle.







Valkyrie (2008)

Verdict: Not as bad as you might think, but still ruined by Tom Cruise's messiah complex.

Monday 5: “You want it when?” cartoon edition

5:00 p.m. tonight? No problem.

1. The Fat Princess beta is amazing (even with all the typical quirks of an unfinished game). I can’t wait for the final product.
2. Even though I like to have my friends respond to my twitter feed in Facebook. I’m shutting it down (for the aforementioned reasons). Everyone should join Twitter. Trust me. It’s perfect for an iPhone-clutching group of narcissistic Socialists.
3. Not only did Ben not kill Penny, but now Faraday gets his own Lost episode: “The Variable.” (The 100th episode!)
4. The Boston Celtics is still on the bubble. And the Detroit Pistons is out and soon to be demolished (much like a lot of the city itself).
5. Prepping myself for the September release of The Beatles: Rock Band by listening to a different album every day. Except for Yellow Submarine of course.

Fine, 5:00 p.m. But it’s going to look like crap.

1. I don’t have any friends… with PS3s. So, when Fat Princess is released, I’ll have to play with stupid strangers.
2. That’s step two in my Facebook leaving process.
3. Miles’ Lost episode was a total waste. Poorly couched exposition in place of more interesting flashbacks.
4. The Utah Jazz will be eliminated from the playoffs any minute now. Then… new coach? New Power Forward? New Center? New heartthrob? New hometown?
5. Lets see, 12 Beatles albums at about $15 each and one The Beatles: Rock Band Special Edition at $250. That’s $430. Ouch.

It could be 6:00 p.m., it could 4:00 p.m. We’ll just have to see what happens.

• To add more depth to Bioshock’s shallow binary morality, Bioshock 2 will present you with that Little Sister dilemma and another “adult” decision-making dilemma. (I’m willing to bet money that second dilemma is the choice to kill the Big Sister… or not.)

I don't get it, is Meghan McCain awesome?

I mean she has a playlist on her website mccainblogette.com that includes songs by Wire and Royksopp, maybe Maggie should watch out. But seriously. . . .

Speaking at the Log Cabin Republican (terrible name for that group) national convention McCain said that "old school Republicans are scared ["s"]less." She called Ann Coulter "overly partisan and divisive." Said this, in obvious response to Rush Limbaugh's failure fetish:

Republicans have a tendency to get way too hung up on words. I’m not just talking about the occasional profanity. When someone says they “hope the President succeeds” they say it with the hope that the country gets better, the economy improves and people can feel safe, confident and free to live their lives as they choose. And may I add in full equality with each other.

I believe most people get that, and more people are getting it everyday.

I believe most of our nation wants our nation to succeed.

And after that:

We know a party that was thriving at one point on a few singular issues cannot see long term success. Even worse, we’ve seen how it has contributed to some serious problems in our nation and world.

Let me blunt, you can’t assume you’re electing the right leaders to handle all the problems facing our nation when you make your choice based on one issue. More and more people are finally getting that.

This is especially timely in light of Sarah Palin's recent appearance at the Vanderburgh County Right to Life banquet, although abortion may be the wedge issue of the past, gay marriage is the piton du jour. In any event, Miss McCain is right to say that electing someone based on one issue (even two!) is idiotic, and for the GOP to gain ground in 2010 they better get a platform and some candidates who are equipped to make decisions on a variety of issues without "help" from lobbyists.

I think the Republican party would do well to listen to Meghan McCain, but I'm not sure whether I should want them too or not. Would the country be better off if the Republican party were a bit better? Or would that just mean that the better party (lesser of two evils) wins fewer elections?

full text here.

Monday 5: Half-forgotten dream edition

I’ll be buying long this week:

1. Hulu might be coming to iPhone.
2. The Celtics lost to the Bulls.
3. I still don’t have tuberculosis.
4. The expression tastefully garish.
5. New Dollhouse and Lost.

I’ll be buying short this week:

1. The Lakers beat the Jazz, and the Jazz will likely be eliminated from the Playoffs this week.
2. I caught up on Heroes, and it didn’t get better like I’d hoped.
3. I didn’t catch up on Chuck.
4. I’ll probably watch The Hills.
5. Alan Arkin is, apparently, 75 years old.

Maybe I'll need to diversify:

I had a dream over the weekend where a stranger was trying to convince me that chickens are not in the Bible.

Why am I friends with Charlotte Adsero?

This is a response to a rhetorical question Mark posed in an earlier post.

Why am I friends with Charlotte [Mecham] Adsero? Or to reword it in a more universal fashion: why am I Facebook "friends" with [person X] who I never talk to and most likely will never talk to again?

It is a legitimate question. One that I have thought about before. Not necessarily about Charlotte, but she is a good example.

I liked Charlotte back in high school, but we haven't spoken since and I don't think I could honestly tell you a single thing about her. The only thing I remember about her from our time at West High is the quality of her smile.

But we live in a curious age and here I am "friends" with her even though I don't think we would talk at a 10 year reunion that neither one of us is probably going to attend anyway.

Obviously, we don't need to be held to Facebook's semantics. "Friend" made more sense five years ago when Facebook was limited to college campuses. Now it is just a vestigial term that politely encompasses everything from actual family member to that stranger who wants to be friends with everybody sharing the same surname. It flattens the depth and complexity of social relationships, which I believe is why many people bristle at its usage.

Why not just apply Ockham's razor and prune all of these strange people invading my mental space with their incessant tweets? Do I really need to see Mike Spendlove express his skepticism of global warming?

As I was pondering this very un-important question, I thought of a book called The Big Sort. I haven't read the book, but like so many books I haven't read, I feel like I understand the basic premise: that we as Americans tend to move into communities with like-minded Americans. There is little accident that I ended up in communist Portland.

One of the consequences of this Big Sort is that we don't interact with people who disagree with our values, which it turn makes it easier to stereotype and vilify.

For example, on April 15th, people [okay, Fox News] held Tea Parties to protest the Obama administration. As I looked at photos from the various events, I had a hard time empathizing with the protesters and I wondered to myself if I would even be able to engage in a civil dialogue with them. Where did these people come from?

Then again, one of "friends" commented that tax day was a good day to remember John Galt, the hero of Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged.

This friend was John, my ex-girlfriend's ex-step father. We have about as remote of a relationship as can possibly be described under the definition of friendship. And his political views are completely antithetical to my own. Occasionally I think about taking him off my list of "friends."

But I find our friendship as a useful reminder that as much as I would like to envision all libertarians as evil or misguided [which most of them probably are], some of them are like John: extraordinarily nice and exceptionally intelligent. And even though we might disagree about most political issues, I would like to think we would at least be able to discuss them civilly.

Which is not to say that we will be digital friends forever. John may be one of the victims of the massive Facebook friendship culling of 2010.

But I think that is enough of a reason for now.

Tea parties

The headline I'd wish I'd seen yesterday (with this going on):

Republican Dick Armey organizes no-strings tea bag party tax day protest.

Ibsen’s dilemma

Officially, the unofficial word is that Fox Broadcasting is responsible for the terrible, awful lameness of the first four Dollhouse episodes.

But let’s face a few facts here:

• Joss Whedon surprised us all (fans) by making another series with Fox Broadcasting. (That’s not the same as 20th Century Fox Television: a studio he’s worked with on all four of his TV shows.)
• Fox meddled with and then killed Firefly before it’s time.
• Fox ordered Whedon to re-shoot the pilot to mainstream it up.
• Fox’s idea of mainstreaming the show was to make the first four episodes more like Quantum Leap, except without any central conflict of endgame scenario. (Similar to what they did when they killed Sliders.)
• Just like with Firefly, Fox is responsible for Dollhouse’s eventual cancellation. But Whedon did choose to sell his show to a network notorious for destroying edgy and interesting sci-fi.

I’m one of those fans who was willing to keep watching the show even though it was absolutely terrible at first. And I mean terrible. I gave it more of a chance than I’ve given things that were only slightly less terrible: Twilight. Britney Spears. Near beer.

Thing is, my patience has paid off. The show has kicked into gear over the past five episodes. First if went from neutral to first. Then first to second. Then second to probably like seventh or eighth gear. Maybe even ninth.

Point is, there is actually an extremely interesting core to the premise. The central complexity is the idea of identity and memory. How our memories make us what we are, and how they don’t.

But it is too late. The show has been languishing in the ratings. And, by moving in to gear, it actually has gone places that a mainstream audience wouldn’t care to follow. (Dushku hasn’t had a sex scene in weeks. And the co-ed showers are much less frequent.)

It’s an interesting dilemma. Whedon shows are possibly too cute to make it on a “harder” network. (Although, my latest cool fantasy, I’d love to see him turn Palahniuk’s Lullabye into an HBO series. That is, if I don’t get a good few scripts together before him.) But they’re too heady and versed in narrative to work many other places.

Still, Fox?

A Lesson Is Learned But The Damage Is Irreversible

Braid

A brilliant and melancholy deconstruction of the platformer genre. Much like Portal the year before, Braid is a miraculous unity of content and form, plumbing emotional and intellectual depths rarely seen in video games. Bravo.

Grade: A

The post in which I rank the NBA Western Conference Playoff teams.

In order of loathsomeness. Because I am bitter.

1. Los Angeles Lakers
2. San Antonio Spurs
3. Denver Nuggets
4. Houston Rockets
5. Dallas Mavericks
6. Portland Trailblazers
7. New Orleans Hornets

Ben-edict Arnold

My brother is a traitor. It hurts to say it, but it's true. His ancestors are turning over in their graves.

Benjamin Saul Goldsmith comes from good stock. His mother, the daughter of two German Jews who narrowly escaped certain death at the hands of the Nazis, grew up in Chicago's north shore suburbs. An avid Cubs fan, the first generation American did what she could to assimilate while keeping her parent's important heritage alive.

I learned something about my brother this week: he doesn't care about spitting in his family's face.

Exhibit A: A photo Ben took on his iPhone yesterday while attending a White Sox home game.


Exhibit B: Ben at his girlfriend's Easter party. He did not attend a Seder this year.

Shame on you, Ben.

Netflix Two Cents: Southland Tales

Southland Tales (2006)

Verdict: If there is ever any sort of Nuremberg Trials for the members of the Bush Administration, I hope they are held responsible for this crime against humanity.

Digital nonchalant

The window is open slightly and letting a small amount of cold, fresh air into the room. Every night, it’s about the same. You’re hot when you go to bed. Cold in the middle of the night. And hot when you wake up. That’s the other value of a digital thermostat. Good or bad, you don’t stay the same all night.

It’s nice to have the cats, and not have the worry, but it would be quite difficult to live like this forever.

This is, by the way, is another rant about how Americans are broken. How we’ve somehow become even more disconnected from basic social ties. Family. Friendship. Whichever.

I have to explain Twitter at work almost every day. You post a short message. 140 characters or less. You friends can read it. They can respond to it. It gives you the illusion of a conversation and an audience but ultimately, I’m realizing, it’s completely disconnected.

Or Facebook. How you can upload 60 photos from your last party so that everyone you know can see them, comment on them. Nice dress. Nice drink. Who’s that? But most likely, the majority of your “friends” weren’t even invited. And you probably haven’t talked to them in months or years anyway.

Hell, I forget that I’m friends with half the people on my list. A few times, I’ve tried to send a friend request to someone that was already my friend. More often, I see an update and think. Why am I friends with Charlotte Adsero? Would I even recognize Stan Holbrook if I saw him on the street? (I like Twitter more anyway. Even if none of my friends have hopped on the bangwagon yet. Besides @FarmForward.)

One of the oldest human customs, and something still common among newly-immigrated populations, was for multiple generations of a family to share a living space. To pool their resources for food, cleaning and transportation and have the older generation provide childcare and education to the youngest generation.

It’s a custom that’s largely seen as being unnatural in our culture.

Yet, I’m reading about tent cities popping up near major cities. Formerly middle-class people lose their jobs and homes but have nowhere to go, so they end up homeless.

On one hand, I’m relieved that I have family and friends I can depend on so that I never have to worry about ending up in a tent city or shelter.

But I can’t help wondering how someone ends up in that situation where they don’t. So sometimes — when it’s too hot for me to fall asleep right away or cold enough that I wake up in the middle of the night — this what I think about

There must be a narrative that makes it make sense how the logical conclusion can be to live in a tent city, or on the street, rather than under another family members roof and rules and customs. American families are shrinking in size. There was that major moral/religious/financial/political disagreement between the generations.

But don’t they have other options? Maybe someone from Facebook.

Short shorts.

In honor of Stockton and Sloan getting inducted into the Basketball Hall of Fame, I wanted to post the greatest moment in Utah Jazz history: Ostertag blocking Olajuwon. I mean, Stockton absolutely dominating the Houston Rockets in the final two minutes of Game 6 of the 1997 Western Conference Finals. Mysteriously, I forget how the rest of that season ended...

Comedy Gold

Props to my new favorite website (until I find a new favorite website): tiricosuave.com It's a sports/pop culture blog with a focus on schadenfreude. Or maybe it's a schadenfreude blog with a focus on sports/pop culture.


Another gem.