Second Gen (2003-2016, 2016- )
The CBC’s web site is running the most unattractive rather toady picture of the man who would be Prime Minister, minority leader Paul Martin this morning. He looks haunted by something…or someone. Could it be the news that the Tories are going to move amendments to today’s speech from the throne? Could it be that the ghost of MacKenzie King is whispering in his ear that he has blown it before it even began?
While it is stupendously whacked that the mostestly freeest country in the world goes through a pre-registration of the prime freedom, the right to vote, it is heartening to find out there is a rush to register giving hope for a huge turnout that might actually reach the point of the majority of eligible voters actually exercising their franchise.
By the way, Ian tells it like it is from the trenches of voter turn out. If you are in the US, take his challenge whatever your political stripe and help mobilize the vote. Unless, of course, you are for local municipal totalitarianism or part of that “Fools for a Dictatorial Vermont” movement.
80s joke. Rosanne Rosannadanna: “never mind”.
Anyway, being couch bound with an unending cold recently, I have watched more TV than usual and have noticed an amazing increase, at least for me, in the violence on TV dramas. I suppose a bit part of it is that the violence is in the present. For the first chunck of this decade most US TV drama was about deadly events in the past, in the form of various detection and forensic shows such as the Law and Orders and the CISs and our own wee DaVinci’s Inquest. In two opening shows of this year, however, there has been an incredible level of present moment violence.
First, in the Third Watch opening show, the bassist from Kiss as bad criminal seeks revenge and sends machine gunning thugs out to kill and be killed all over “the city”. It was an hour of bullet spray without plot, going even into an ER, though, sadly, none of the character actually from the also unending ER were picked off. It was the sort of thing that I would have never thought would be on broadcast TV. Then, on Saturday night I watched bits of the opening show of Lost. Holy Freeg-holy! Repeated rehashing of the inside of a passenger jet full of people as it breaks up in flight (note to self: take the train), repeated showing of the results of said break up after the chunks land (ie “I see dead people”) and, then, people getting eaten by oversized and geographically misplaced carnivores – including one particularly blood-enriched consumption of an airline pilot through a window complete with chomping sounds and buckets of red paint being splashed back onto the neighbouring cockpit windows in time with the chomps. It is a potentially groundbreaking show having an actual original premise…oh, but the gore. Mixing Survivor with Edgar Rice Burroughs while riding the pop culture terror wave it could spawn a flood of copycat exotic pointless fear-mongering shows to kill off reality shows and cop shows and maybe Jamie Oliver for good measure.
I am not suggesting that these shows should be off TV or that you should not watch them. Maybe I have just been stuck watching a world of tedious home redecorating shows, wardrobe renovation shows, stuff storage renovation shows, dating life renovation shows…and sports for the last seven years and forgot how much blood is on TV if you want to find it.
Was it because they were measured in troy ounces before?
One of my favorite reads is either “INDC” or “In D.C.”. This morning he/she/it posted a very good list of reminders about him-/her-/itself:
I’ve been worried about INDC giving off mixed messages to confused customers, so let’s clear the air and stake a few cautionary theses to the old church door:
- In addition to very serious material and largely straightforward journalism, this site does humor. The site’s author likes humor. Humor makes children smile and sick people well. Yay.
- This is a personal web site. The author is not paid a salary to write material.
- Sarcastic commentary in the odd analysis post is like oxygen and sunshine.
- The author is not paid to write material.
- Serious posts that may have an impact on the national debate will be evident by their serious tone, sarcastic posts will be distinguished by their use of … sarcasm, and confusing parody or satire will henceforth be clearly labeled “parody” or “satire” by the end of the piece.
- Sometimes this site will feature bad words; the author will relish every one.
- If you don’t enjoy humor with your news or analysis, INDC enthusiastically endorses CSPAN, The Belmont Club and Scrappleface. It’s rumored that Captain Ed and the Q and O guys made a joke once, but reports of subsequent laughter were implausible and unconfirmed, and the their news analysis retains its daily excellence.
- Mrs. Cheney – if you’re reading – I’m sorry.
- The author of this site often employs a painfully, confoundingly dry sense of humor.
- And most importantly, the author of this site is not paid to write material.
Most blog writers could and perhaps should write a comparable list. I do not, for example, suggest this is journalism and like to mildly ridicule those who suggest blogs are. This is a hobby. Journalism is a backbone of democratic societies. I do however, like a good barney and humour. I am also not paid to do this even though I attract 18.9% of the readership of the mighty, mighty Flea which in itself you would think would attract a living wage…if God were a patsy. I am indifferent to cats.
Thirty-five years ago right about now, after supper in jammies, my brothers and I would be breaking out the Major Matt Mason stuff, a line of Mattel space toys from the late 1960s. We don’t have any left, unlike the author of this site where I quietly pocketed a copy of the photo above. There was a rather effective little rocket launcher that had spring loaded cap-gun cap explosive power capacities. I recall launching a barrage of these at the neighbours during a dinner party the folks put on. Many shins knew the wrath. An effective distraction as we made off with cherry cheesecake. Sometimes the results were not so kind to Matt as this photo play shows.
As my older brothers moved on to GI Joe and fighting Vietnam or, care of Action Man gift packs from Grannie in Scotland, taking care of the Nazis one more time, I got Captain Lazar (Ed.:shown above left) and the Firebolt Space Cannon which beat the hell out of the GI Joes even with the jeep. Weird thinking part of my childhood play was zapping Nazi dolls with a space lazar cannon.
I have written about the great portrait collection at work before. I have a hard time keeping my eyes off this particular painting when I am in a meeting in a certain room and especially the detail over the shoulder of the Mayor for 1898, Charles Livingston:
Conrad to sue everyone on on the planet and half the plant and animal life, too!
When will the senselessness end…