More Dathonian English

"If you build it, he will come." "Field of Dreams" (1989).

In this rather mawkish schmaltzfest, Kevin Costner plays a farmer who, while wandering his cornfield, hears a voice in the wind saying "If you build it, he will come." Logically, he concludes that this means that, if he builds a baseball field in his cornfield, "Shoeless" Joe Jackson and the other members of the 1919 Chicago White Sox (also known as the "Black Sox" for their role in fixing the World Series) will come and play there.

Of course! What else could it mean?

Anyway, though the movie itself doesn't get much play these days, the line lives on. It often shows up in the corporate world when people debate the relative merits of undertaking some project:

"Should we open another Starbucks in San Diego?"

"Well, if you build it, they will come."

Sometimes, for humorous effect, other transitive verbs may be substituted:

"Should I make some noodle kugel?"

"Well, if you bake it, they will come."

The line is often employed ironically, to imply that the person proposing an undertaking displays misplaced quasi-mystical faith in the merits of the project. Sure, in "Field of Dreams" Shoeless Joe shows up--as does (spoiler alert!) Costner's father, who is, in fact, the "he" the voice was referring to all along. But such Hollywood endings are the stuff of celluloid and cannot be counted on in everyday life.

A Day in the Life

We think we've figured out the whole "Blogs of Note" issue; that is, we've figured out why, despite the consistently high quality of our prose, we are constantly overlooked by "BoN," which chooses instead to celebrate the offerings of people who report on the humdrum mundanities that make up their tiny little lives or who take pictures of what's on their desks.

In a word, the problem is images.

Or, more specifically, the lack of images. We've noted a distinct bias among the "BoN" Selection Committee (whoever they may be) for blogs chock-ful-o'-photos, brimming with snapshots, awash in daguerreotypes--you get the idea. (Or should we say, "You get the picture"? Ha!)

Anyway, how could a wordsmith like the Solipsist compete? More importantly, should we compete? Should we cater to the plebeian desires of the unwashed masses? Or should we not rather carry on our semi-literary crusade in service of the written word, even though it likely means we will never find ourselves named a noteworthy blog?

Well what do you think?

Thus, here follows a photojournalistic tour de force, documenting a day in the life of Solipsist:

5:07 am. The sound of nibbling. The guinea pig has awoken. Normally, he would get carrots. This week, though, he is on a special diet due to a digestive problem worthy of Hieronymous Bosch (see the last image of "The Garden of Earthly Delights," c. 1504). We prepare him a breakfast of Eggs Benedict and hay.

5:17 am. It is 5:17 am.

7:29 am. We realize that WOS has brought in another cat. We shall call her, "Kupu."

8:15 am. We begin our daily contemplation. For the next three hours, we will stare at a pumpkin.

It has been said that the egg is the perfect food. But is that title not more fittingly bestowed upon the pumpkin? What it lacks in comparative protein and versatility, it more than makes up for in sheer size and orangeness.

11:16 am. Speaking of orangeness, we hear a rustling above our head. We have been hearing this rustling throughout pumpkin contemplation for the last 16 days. We had thought it was the wind, until we realized we were indoors. Today, we discovered the source. WOS has struck again. We shall call her, "Orange."

12:48 pm. We have found these scattered throughout Solipsist HQ. YNSHC believes that they make cats appear, for whenever we enter a darkened room and "flip" these things, we find cats.

1:12 pm: Lunchtime. Is there anything better than a Stouffer's Chicken Pot Pie? We think not! Unless it is a Stouffer's lasagna! Or French Bread Pizza! Boy, the good folks at Stouffer's can do no wrong when it comes to delicious, easy-to-prepare meals for the whole family. (By the way, as always, "The Solipsist" welcomes applications from potential sponsors. Just sayin'.)

2:09 pm. Yes, Sloppists, this is the hand that types the Solipsist. Well, one of them. But this is the one that handles the e's, s's, t's, and r's--you know, the gruntwork. Take a moment to thank this hand. Where would you be without it?

2:11 pm. Oral hygiene is very important to the Solipsist.

6:58 pm. Prime time! We have our remote control and our painter's tape. We're ready for the evening.

7:02 pm. What should we have for dinner? (Potential sponsors should contact the Solipsist immediately--day or night. Really!)

8:03 pm. Dessert!

11:00 pm. As the credits roll on "Dateline: Tucson," we lean over and blow out the lantern. Another day at Solipsist HQ has come to an end. What new adventures will tomorrow bring?

Now if THIS doesn't get us into "Blogs of Note," we don't know what will!

A Brief Post, In Which We Reflect on Recent Occurrences in the World of Sports, and, Having Weighed Various Factors, Reach a Profound Conclusion

For the record, the New York Yankees still suck.

Perspective

Let's make one thing perfectly clear: The Solipsist doesn't do "spin." What follows, therefore, is merely an attempt to put last night's elections into their proper perspective.

Democrats lost the two big governor's races (well, strictly speaking, the ONLY two governor's races) in New Jersey and Virginia. The Republican Party quickly claimed these wins as signs of public disdain for President Obama's policies. Maybe. But as the Times points out, voters in these states "remained strongly supportive" of the President. It seems these victories were referenda on nothing more than the individual candidates.

New Jersey is a predominantly Democratic state, where Jon Corzine was a very unpopular governor. He was unpopular not because he was a Democrat or because he was associated with Obama, but because the state (like most of the country) is suffering massive economic troubles. This, combined with typical Jersey-esque political corruption scandals and the fact that Corzine has the personal charisma of a brick, pretty much doomed his candidacy. The winner, Christopher J. Christie (a name so nice, they named him twice), hardly sounds like a fire-breathing conservative, and even if he is, the liberal to moderate electorate in New Jersey will keep him from doing anything too egregious.

(Digression: In his favor, Christie is a rabid Bruce Springsteen fan. Here's a thought for the next Jersey governor's race: Draft Springsteen! He should get about 90% of the vote without even campaigning. Just sayin'. EOD)

Virginia is a Republican state. While Obama carried the state last fall, that was an anomaly. It's no surprise that the GOP reclaimed the governor's mansion. Virginia governors, though, are limited to a single term (they can run for re-election, but not for consecutive terms), so who knows what the future holds?

The big news, though, came from New York's 23rd congressional district. In case you haven't been following, here's the scoop. (Note: If you're already familiar with the goings on in the 23rd, feel free to go about your business. Check back for tomorrow's posting, which will be about soup or ping pong or whatever tickles our fancy.)

New York's 23rd congressional district held a special election yesterday. Their representative, Republican John McHugh, vacated his seat earlier this year, when President Obama appointed him Secretary of the Army.

Located in the northernmost part of New York State, the 23rd is solidly Republican. Indeed, one reason McHugh was willing to relinquish his seat was probably that he felt confident the seat would remain in Republican hands, and his leaving would thus do no harm to the national party.

The local Republican party nominated Dede Scozzafava, an assemblywoman and former mayor, to run against the Democrat, Bill Owens, a lawyer and political newcomer. On paper, Scozzafava looked like a shoo-in.

Not so fast.

See, Dede Scozzafava has one major flaw: A mind of her own. A decidedly moderate Republican, she supports abortion rights and gay rights, and she even endorsed President Obama's fiscal stimulus. The wingnuts would have none of this, so such statesmanlike figures as Rush Limbaugh, Sarah Palin, and Tim Pawlenty (the governor of Michigan) insinuated themselves into New York's congressional race. They and other outsiders promoted the candidacy of Conservative Douglas L. Hoffman, a partner in an accounting firm.

Hoffman quickly overtook Scozzafava in the polls, although he trailed Owens (presumably because Republican voters split between him and Scozzafava). Seeing that she had no realistic chance of winning, Scozzafava abandoned the race a little over a week ago. The paleoconservatives brayed in triumph; the national Republican Party in general, and its Chairman, Michael ("The Black Guy") Steele, in particular, "applaud[ed] her decision." No doubt Republicans felt Scozzafava's supporters would naturally turn to Hoffman, especially if Dede played the good soldier and backed her former rival.

And she was a good soldier, and she did back her former rival: the Democrat, Bill Owens. And last night, Owens edged out Hoffman for the victory.

Make no mistake: THIS was the most significant election in the country. The Republican Party is fracturing. Its leaders are struggling to decide whether they want to be part of a mainstream political movement or if they want to continue wallowing in the politics of "No." If Hoffman had won, not only would it have meant one less congressional supporter of Obama's policies, it would also have meant that the lunatic fringe could continue to impose its will on the national party. It would have confirmed the message that there is no place in the party for independent thought or for the slightest variation from the party line.

But if there is no place in the Republican Party for a moderate candidate whose views are in tune with the majority of the American population's, then how can that party ever expect to appeal to a majority again?

It should be noted that no less a conservative luminary than Newt Gingrich--while he, too, was happy at the time to see Scozzafava withdraw--saw dark clouds on the horizon: "I think we are going to get into a very difficult environment around the country if suddenly conservative leaders decide they are going to anoint people without regard to local primaries and local choices."

Last night in upstate New York, the good guys won.

Four

Let's see how many random bits of silliness the Solipsist can dash off before he's interrupted by a student or bear attack!

1) The rumors are true! Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and US Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton confirmed today that they will be co-starring in a Broadway revival of "Fiddler on the Roof." At their press conference, the political powerhouses wowed the assembled journalists with an impromptu performance of "Do You Love Me?":

2) If someone has a "mild" case of Tourette's Syndrome, does that mean their scatological outbursts are confined to "Shucks!," "Golly!," and "Fiddlesticks!"?

3) Dig the punctuation in that last section!

4) It's a guy thing:

Generally, complaints about public restrooms are the province of the fairer sex, but we men have to deal with something, too: Insufficient Urinal Spacing (IUS). You guys know what I'm talking about: IUS occurs when the facilities are placed so close together that you really can't avoid touching the fellow next to you. Generally, such touching can be confined to elbows, but who wants to (literally) rub elbows with a micturating male? It drifts dangerously close to Sen. Larry Craig (R-Gomorrah) territory. We say, if you're not going to provide actual physical dividers, keep urinals at least one foot apart!

Uh-oh, here comes a student!

Note: An earlier edition of today's post incorrectly identified former Senator Larry Craig as "R-Sodom." We regret the error.

Perfect Sentences (Continued) (A Brief Post)

We had planned to bring you a multimedia presentation, sure to launch us into the "Blogs of Note"-osphere. Alas, after snapping a bunch of pictures meant to document a "Day in the Life of Solipsist," we realized that we had a problem with the image editor on the computer at Solipsist Central: Specifically, we can't find it on the computer.

We should be able to do the minor image-work we need to do tomorrow at work, so the piece will be coming soon. In the meantime, we'll just leave you with an update on the quest for the perfect sentence. From a student essay about eating at McDonald's:

"It was the grossest, most nastiest feeling anyone with a tongue can experience."

You know, sometimes the Solipsist really has to restrain himself.

Who Watches the "Watchmen"? We Do!

Or, we did. Last night, to be exact.

There are no movie theaters in the immediate vicinity of Solipsist Central,

so we usually have to wait for the DVD.

Was it worth the wait?

First, we LOVE Watchmen (1986-7). If you aren't already familiar with the title, a bit of background. Before the term "graphic novel" was an accepted term for respectable works of literary art, a Brit named Alan Moore was redefining what it meant to be a comic-book writer. Before he came along, the words in characters' speech balloons were subservient to the artwork, and the best comic writers were generally visual artists first, wordsmiths second. Moore changed that, bringing a screenwriter's sensibility to dialogue, and providing artists with meticulous descriptions to bring his words to life.

Moore made his mark in the US beginning in 1983 with a reworking of Len Wein and Berni Wrightson's horror comic, Swamp Thing, for which he won several Jack Kirby awards (the Oscars of the comics world). Then, in 1986, he and artist Dave Gibbons produced Watchmen.

For all you may have heard about this title over the last few months, what with the movie and all, what you need to understand is that Watchmen changed comic books. Arguably, it is responsible for the term "graphic novel"; it seemed inappropriate to refer to a work of art as dark, as psychologically complex, as intricately plotted and characterized as this as a "comic book." A new term had to be devised.

Not only was it the greatest comic book ever written, but it also took full advantage of the comic-book form. Originally published as a 12-issue mini-series, the novel tells the story of a group of masked vigilantes (who, it should be noted, are not actually called "The Watchmen"--as they are in the film) who are adjusting--with greater or lesser success--to a world that no longer wants them. Anticipating the TV show "Lost," alternating episodes provide the back-story of each major character, while also propelling the overall plot: a Whodunnit set against the backdrop of imminent nuclear holocaust. Not enough going on? There's also a "comic-within-the-comic," a 1950's-style horror comic about pirates called "The Tales of the Black Freighter," which parallels the main story-line, setting up symbolic resonance throughout the book.

In other words, there's a lot going on here--so much, in fact, that bringing it to the big screen proved problematic. Over the twenty-plus years since its publication, a "Watchmen" film has almost continuously been in one or another stage of development. Most intriguingly, in 1991, Terry Gilliam ("Brazil," "The Fisher King," etc.) was set to direct, but he backed out,. He felt that, to be true to the material, he would need to make a five-hour miniseries, instead of a two to two-and-a-half hour film. Upon seeing Zack Snyder's 2009 version, we have to agree with Gilliam.

See, to us, the basic problem with the movie was not that it corrupted Moore's and Gibbons' vision--indeed, the movie demonstrates Snyder's true love of the source material: Much of the film follows the graphic novel panel-for-panel. But in its faithfulness to the original, the movie as a whole feels disjointed. As we watched, we found ourselves thinking, "OK, and that's the end of issue #2. . . . And this is the issue where we get Dr. Manhattan's back-story. . . . And here's Rorschach's story. . . ." Ultimately, this has the effect of breaking up the flow of the movie as a whole. And whereas this works in a comic book, where you have a month between issues to digest what you have just read--or whereas it would probably work as a TV miniseries for the same reasons--in a feature film it has the effect of stopping the forward momentum, which the film must then try to regenerate.

We're not going to quibble overly much with what was left out of the movie. We understand it would have been too much to ask for the inclusion of "Tales of the Black Freighter." The ending was a bit annoying in that the filmmakers decided to go for a somewhat "neater" (if not happier) ending than in the novel, but, again, we're willing to accept that.

The acting, too, was hit and miss. Billy Crudup intones nicely as the godlike Dr. Manhattan. Jeffrey Dean Morgan does a good job as the Comedian: His main challenge is to make a thoroughly distasteful human being somewhat likable, and he succeeds. Jackie Earle Haley has the juiciest part as the psychopathic hero "Rorschach": He wears the mask well, but at times he seems to be doing a parody of Clint Eastwood in. . . well, in just about anything, really. The rest of the cast leaves much to be desired: Malin Ackerman (Silk Spectre II) and Patrick Wilson (Nite Owl II) perform about the unsexiest sex scene we've ever seen. And Matthew Goode plays Adrian Veidt with such hauteur that (spoiler alert) it's hard to believe anyone can't figure out he's the central badguy--which is supposed to come as something of a surprise (and what is UP with his accent?).

In the end, we're glad we saw it--and even gladder that we didn't shell out ten bucks for the privilege. But we're also a bit sad. This could have--should have--been a masterpiece. The source material deserves better. We feel bad for all the folks out there who haven't read the book and who are now probably disinclined to do so, thinking they've already had the "Watchmen" experience.

Take our word for it: If you haven't read the book, you haven't gotten the story.