Following up on yesterday's post, it now appears that James Holmes, the "alleged" (nudge-nudge, wink-wink) shooter in the Colorado movie-theater massacre, purchased all his guns and ammunition legally. So, I will now go ahead and say what I thought I would say yesterday: This country needs seriously to rethink its attitudes toward gun-control.
Of course, some of our more right-wing brethren suggest that gun restrictions are, in this case, part of the problem. They claim that, if only--if only!--someone else in the theater had been armed! He or she could have taken out James Holmes and put an end to his rampage. I think this claim deserves serious . . . consideration.
Let's imagine, for the sake of argument, that someone else--some responsible, law-abiding citizen--at that ill-fated midnight show had been carrying a gun--
--and frankly, I find it difficult to believe no one else was carrying. This was a packed theater--several hundred people, including, we now know, several members of the military. Furthermore, this occurred in Colorado--not the reddest of red states, sure, but a Western state with a somewhat relaxed attitude toward personal gun ownership. Is it really reasonable to assume that not one other person in the theater was packing heat? Still, let's go along with the right-wing argument that overly restrictive gun-control laws keep guns out of the hands of everybody--except apparently unstable lunatics.
Where were we? Ah, yes. Let's assume that someone else at the theater had been carrying a gun when James Holmes burst in and began his rampage. What would have happened?
Holmes would still have enjoyed the advantage of surprise. Apparently, several moviegoers at first thought the whole thing was some kind of publicity stunt. Not unreasonable: This was a premiere of a major blockbuster--an action movie--and based on descriptions of Holmes' attire, it sounds like he closely enough resembled one of the film's characters that most viewers, in a festive mood and certainly not anticipating danger, would suspected nothing was wrong, at least until they realized that the smoke-bombs Holmes released contained real tear gas or some other irritant. And then, of course, the shooting started.
So now, imagine what confronts our hypothetical hero--sitting somewhere with her pistol tucked in her purse: A darkened theater, filling up with caustic smoke (to which, of course, she is not immune), and dozens of people screaming and frantically trying to escape the carnage. If she actually tried to shoot Holmes, what are the odds she would hit him and not one of her fellow theatergoers? For that matter, the shooter was reportedly wearing all manner of body armor; unless our hero were carrying a very powerful little gun, and/or found herself right next to Holmes so she could shoot him directly in the head, it seems unlikely she could have been all that effective. Given the circumstances, unless you're a member of Seal Team Six, or maybe Andy Garcia's character from "The Untouchables," your best course of action would have been to leave the gun in your purse or pocket and hightail it out of the theater with the rest of the audience.
********************************************
Honestly, I don't know what the solution is. Of course, people determined to commit gun-fueled mayhem will find a way to arm themselves despite any laws that gun-control proponents manage to pass. But, seriously, could we just maybe consider making things a bit more difficult for the James Holmeses of the world? Surely some middle ground exists between outlawing guns altogether and allowing absolutely anybody anywhere to buy as many guns and as much ammunition as the market will bear? Surely it's not unreasonable for law-abiding citizens to want some assurance that the guy walking down the street toward them is not packing more firepower than an average Israeli commando unit?
Is it?
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Friday, July 20, 2012
OK, But Aside from THAT, How Was the Movie?
Yeah, yeah. . . . Send your complaints to Solipsist Central.
As the nation absorbs this latest example of chaos in our midst, I brace myself for certain inevitabilities.
The pundits will do what pundits do: pontificate. Already we've had the predictable calls for increased gun control, which I generally agree with, but which may or may not be all that relevant. A lot depends on whether "alleged" shooter James Holmes came by his guns legally. Considering that he was a PhD candidate in neuroscience, I suspect Holmes would have had no trouble obtaining whatever weapons he wanted legally, which certainly would call into question the wisdom of existing gun regulations. On the other hand, if it turns out the guns were purchased illegally, then the issue is really not so much that we need more gun laws, but that we must just better enforce the ones we have. At any rate, this is not the most annoying inevitability.
The presidential candidates both responded appropriately, expressing sympathy with the victims and their families and curtailing political activities for at least a day or two. No one's much in the mood for vitriolic rhetoric right now--with the possible exception of one Texas douchebag who claims that the shootings were a result of the "ongoing attacks" on Judeo-Christian beliefs. Kinda makes one hopeful that the next news cycle will bring revelations that Holmes was molested by priests at an early age.
Really, though, while it's somewhat reassuring to see both President Obama and Mitt Romney slip easily into the role of Comforter-in-Chief, this kind of event presents a political no-brainer. When tragedy strikes, anyone aspiring to high political office has got to know enough to drop whatever he or she is doing and respond. Only a total moron would go on conducting business as usual or, say, reading "My Pet Goat." Just sayin'.
These political response, however, are also not the most annoying inevitabilities.
No, my eye-rolling arises after seeing the immediate flooding of every movie-theater across America with reporters running up to people and asking if they are now worried about going to see movies in general and "The Dark Night Rises" in particular. Unsurprisingly, most people--because they are not congentially stupid--express little personal concern about their odds of making it home alive from the 3:40 showing. Sure, what James Holmes did--"allegedly"--is horrifying, but since all signs so far suggest that Holmes was a lone psychopath and not part of some Qaeda-esque jihad against all things Batman, why would this stop anyone from going to the movies? Any individual audience member is far more likely to suffer injury or death in a car accident going to or from the multiplex than from anything that happens within the theater itself. (They should, however avoid the popcorn "butter"--that stuff WILL kill you.)
Sadly, random acts of violence and mayhem have become a part of the fabric of American culture. But movies have long been a much bigger part of that culture. As one blogger has pointed out, one truly sad aspect of this shooting is that it took place during a screening of a film that, in a way that few movies do anymore, brings people together in a sort of communal celebration--a shared experience the likes of which grow ever-rarer in these days of high-end home-entertainment systems and internet-enabled fragmentation. This shooting should not make people afraid to go to movies; it should make them fear what I suspect we'll discover is the crippling sense of isolation that drives the James Holmeses of the world to murder.
As the nation absorbs this latest example of chaos in our midst, I brace myself for certain inevitabilities.
The pundits will do what pundits do: pontificate. Already we've had the predictable calls for increased gun control, which I generally agree with, but which may or may not be all that relevant. A lot depends on whether "alleged" shooter James Holmes came by his guns legally. Considering that he was a PhD candidate in neuroscience, I suspect Holmes would have had no trouble obtaining whatever weapons he wanted legally, which certainly would call into question the wisdom of existing gun regulations. On the other hand, if it turns out the guns were purchased illegally, then the issue is really not so much that we need more gun laws, but that we must just better enforce the ones we have. At any rate, this is not the most annoying inevitability.
The presidential candidates both responded appropriately, expressing sympathy with the victims and their families and curtailing political activities for at least a day or two. No one's much in the mood for vitriolic rhetoric right now--with the possible exception of one Texas douchebag who claims that the shootings were a result of the "ongoing attacks" on Judeo-Christian beliefs. Kinda makes one hopeful that the next news cycle will bring revelations that Holmes was molested by priests at an early age.
Really, though, while it's somewhat reassuring to see both President Obama and Mitt Romney slip easily into the role of Comforter-in-Chief, this kind of event presents a political no-brainer. When tragedy strikes, anyone aspiring to high political office has got to know enough to drop whatever he or she is doing and respond. Only a total moron would go on conducting business as usual or, say, reading "My Pet Goat." Just sayin'.
These political response, however, are also not the most annoying inevitabilities.
No, my eye-rolling arises after seeing the immediate flooding of every movie-theater across America with reporters running up to people and asking if they are now worried about going to see movies in general and "The Dark Night Rises" in particular. Unsurprisingly, most people--because they are not congentially stupid--express little personal concern about their odds of making it home alive from the 3:40 showing. Sure, what James Holmes did--"allegedly"--is horrifying, but since all signs so far suggest that Holmes was a lone psychopath and not part of some Qaeda-esque jihad against all things Batman, why would this stop anyone from going to the movies? Any individual audience member is far more likely to suffer injury or death in a car accident going to or from the multiplex than from anything that happens within the theater itself. (They should, however avoid the popcorn "butter"--that stuff WILL kill you.)
Sadly, random acts of violence and mayhem have become a part of the fabric of American culture. But movies have long been a much bigger part of that culture. As one blogger has pointed out, one truly sad aspect of this shooting is that it took place during a screening of a film that, in a way that few movies do anymore, brings people together in a sort of communal celebration--a shared experience the likes of which grow ever-rarer in these days of high-end home-entertainment systems and internet-enabled fragmentation. This shooting should not make people afraid to go to movies; it should make them fear what I suspect we'll discover is the crippling sense of isolation that drives the James Holmeses of the world to murder.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
MAGNETS, BITCH!
The Emmy nominations came out today. In just over two months, we'll find out if "Mad Men" strengthens its claim as the best show ever by winning a fifth consecutive "Best Drama" award. I for one hope it doesn't.
Don't get me wrong: I like "Mad Men." But this raises the inevitable question: Why? As DOS and others have pointed out, in "Mad Men," nothing ever happens! And not "nothing" in the funny, Seinfeldian sense, either. You disagree? OK, well, go ahead: Summarize the plot of any episode of "Mad Men." If you respond that individual episodes are not the point--it's the overall series you have to consider--well, fair enough: Summarize the plot of the series. At this point, you're probably saying something like, "It's about the 60's, Man! It's about the fundamental cultural shifts that were rocking American society to the core." Which is true (and you should really stop talking to your computer: Remember, I can't hear you. And people are starting to stare). But, my friend, that is a theme, not a plot. I stand by my initial comment.
As I say, though, I do like "Mad Men," and the reason is the one thing that makes the show somewhat unique. If you want to enjoy "Mad Men," you should--indeed, must--enjoy it as a purely aesthetic experience, like looking at a beautiful painting. Because the show is undeniably and indisputably well made. The look of the show is flawless, thanks to Matthew Weiner's Aspergerian attention to detail. And the characters are all engaging enough, even if what's happening to them is nothing more nor less than the standard ups and downs that you would expect to happen to any set of upper-middle-class white folk in the 1960s. People marry, have affairs, die; drink, smoke, occasionally drop acid; go to work, get promoted, get fired. And so on. One can find enjoyment enough in spending an hour a week with these folks, but once the week's episode ends, one can scarcely recall what has just happened. Because nothing really has.
The same cannot be said for the other best-drama nominees, each veritably stuffed with plot: "Boardwalk Empire," "Game of Thrones," and "Homeland" are all worthy nominees. And this year "Breaking Bad" has returned to contention. If there's any justice at all, "Breaking Bad" will win: Not only is it the best show on television right now, it is also quite possibly the best show ever, and for the life of me I cannot understand why several people I know, intelligent types with sophisticated tastes, have still not started watching it. What are you people waiting for, a personal invitation? Well I just gave you one!
The final drama nominee, or "draminee," is "Downton Abbey." I don't watch that myself. I know a lot of people love it, but I haven't gotten around to it. I was under the impression, though, that "Downton Abbey" was actually an older show, and was only "new" in the sense that it hadn't been shown in the US. Someone can clarify this for me.
We'll discuss other categories as the awards approach. Hey, I have to hold something in reserve, in case writer's block strikes again.
Don't get me wrong: I like "Mad Men." But this raises the inevitable question: Why? As DOS and others have pointed out, in "Mad Men," nothing ever happens! And not "nothing" in the funny, Seinfeldian sense, either. You disagree? OK, well, go ahead: Summarize the plot of any episode of "Mad Men." If you respond that individual episodes are not the point--it's the overall series you have to consider--well, fair enough: Summarize the plot of the series. At this point, you're probably saying something like, "It's about the 60's, Man! It's about the fundamental cultural shifts that were rocking American society to the core." Which is true (and you should really stop talking to your computer: Remember, I can't hear you. And people are starting to stare). But, my friend, that is a theme, not a plot. I stand by my initial comment.
As I say, though, I do like "Mad Men," and the reason is the one thing that makes the show somewhat unique. If you want to enjoy "Mad Men," you should--indeed, must--enjoy it as a purely aesthetic experience, like looking at a beautiful painting. Because the show is undeniably and indisputably well made. The look of the show is flawless, thanks to Matthew Weiner's Aspergerian attention to detail. And the characters are all engaging enough, even if what's happening to them is nothing more nor less than the standard ups and downs that you would expect to happen to any set of upper-middle-class white folk in the 1960s. People marry, have affairs, die; drink, smoke, occasionally drop acid; go to work, get promoted, get fired. And so on. One can find enjoyment enough in spending an hour a week with these folks, but once the week's episode ends, one can scarcely recall what has just happened. Because nothing really has.
The same cannot be said for the other best-drama nominees, each veritably stuffed with plot: "Boardwalk Empire," "Game of Thrones," and "Homeland" are all worthy nominees. And this year "Breaking Bad" has returned to contention. If there's any justice at all, "Breaking Bad" will win: Not only is it the best show on television right now, it is also quite possibly the best show ever, and for the life of me I cannot understand why several people I know, intelligent types with sophisticated tastes, have still not started watching it. What are you people waiting for, a personal invitation? Well I just gave you one!
The final drama nominee, or "draminee," is "Downton Abbey." I don't watch that myself. I know a lot of people love it, but I haven't gotten around to it. I was under the impression, though, that "Downton Abbey" was actually an older show, and was only "new" in the sense that it hadn't been shown in the US. Someone can clarify this for me.
We'll discuss other categories as the awards approach. Hey, I have to hold something in reserve, in case writer's block strikes again.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
I Don't Need Depends, Either!
Along the righthand side of one's Facebook newsfeed, one finds "Sponsored" links. Willingly exposing ourselves to these targeted ads is the price we pay for the privilege of reading our friends' status updates and looking at funny cat pictures. Fair enough. The promise of reaching consumers with specific advertisements tailored to each person's individual interests and buying history was what made the Facebook IPO so irresistible, at least until it wasn't anymore. Based on what Facebook's algorithm deems appropriate for my perusal, though, I think I have some insight into why advertisers may have some reservations about the value of Facebook.
Today, for example, the sponsored links on my page include some that make a reasonable amount of sense: People are trying to sell me season 4 of "Damages" and Michael Crichton audiobooks. As I mentioned last week, I am a fan of "Damages," and we can hardly condemn the advertisers for not taking the time to actually read the post wherein I mention having just bought season 4. Maybe they figure I liked it so much I want a second set. And I also like Michael Crichton, even if I have never bought an audiobook in my life.
Other sponsored links are more perplexing. I'm not sure why I got an ad for "Trunk Club," a luxury online men's clothing retailer. Sure, fashion is my life, but how did they know that?
And then there are the somewhat disturbing links, like ads asking me to stand with Mitt Romney or Sarah Palin, or an ad today that asks me to join a movement to get the United States to create jobs that build upon America's greatest resource: our abundance of coal. As any regular reader of this page knows, I hardly support Republican causes. Sure, I believe the gays should be strictly regulated and that illegal immigration causes rickets, but those are minor exceptions to a generally left-leaning worldview.
Ah, but as I typed the above, I realized why I was receiving these curiously targeted ads: Obviously, Facebook's advertising algorithms can't process sarcasm. And therein lies the fundamental flaw in the whole program. Because if, to paraphrase Harlan Ellison, there is any element more common in the universe than hydrogen, it is internet snark and sarcasm. Any system that fails to take this into account is doomed to fail.
Today, for example, the sponsored links on my page include some that make a reasonable amount of sense: People are trying to sell me season 4 of "Damages" and Michael Crichton audiobooks. As I mentioned last week, I am a fan of "Damages," and we can hardly condemn the advertisers for not taking the time to actually read the post wherein I mention having just bought season 4. Maybe they figure I liked it so much I want a second set. And I also like Michael Crichton, even if I have never bought an audiobook in my life.
Other sponsored links are more perplexing. I'm not sure why I got an ad for "Trunk Club," a luxury online men's clothing retailer. Sure, fashion is my life, but how did they know that?
And then there are the somewhat disturbing links, like ads asking me to stand with Mitt Romney or Sarah Palin, or an ad today that asks me to join a movement to get the United States to create jobs that build upon America's greatest resource: our abundance of coal. As any regular reader of this page knows, I hardly support Republican causes. Sure, I believe the gays should be strictly regulated and that illegal immigration causes rickets, but those are minor exceptions to a generally left-leaning worldview.
Ah, but as I typed the above, I realized why I was receiving these curiously targeted ads: Obviously, Facebook's advertising algorithms can't process sarcasm. And therein lies the fundamental flaw in the whole program. Because if, to paraphrase Harlan Ellison, there is any element more common in the universe than hydrogen, it is internet snark and sarcasm. Any system that fails to take this into account is doomed to fail.
Monday, July 16, 2012
In Case You Missed It. . . .
Kinda tired today, so here, for your viewing pleasure, is a link to Shell Oil's "Arctic Ready Let's Go" campaign. Seems the folks at Shell decided to crowd-source their latest propaganda efforts, asking consumers to caption various pictures of beautiful arctic nature. We assume the folks at Shell were looking for something. . . different, so check these out before they're taken down.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Worse than the Cover-up
It has become a truth universally acknowledged that the cover-up is always worse than the crime. This theory reached its apotheosis during the Lewinsky scandal. While President Clinton's behavior with his overeager White House intern was, at best, inappropriate, it hardly reached the level of a crime, Lewinsky being a willing participant of legal age. Had the President merely 'fessed up, he would have suffered some embarrassment, but the country would have been spared the drawn out spectacle of the impeachment and its concomitant paralysis of our entire system of governance. To be sure, overzealous partisanship on the part of the Repuiblican-controlled Congress played no small part in the circus, but let's be generous and say that both parties behaved sub-optimally, and, again, President Clinton could have nipped the whole thing in the bud.
The cover-up was truly worse than the crime.
I thought of this today as I read a letter to the editor in today's paper, commenting on the latest revelations in the Penn State child abuse scandal. Last week, a report condemned Penn State officials, including the late legendary coach Joe Paterno, for their inaction in response to Jerry Sandusky's actions. Today's letter-writer asks, "Why do our political leaders, our business leaders and the heads of so many other important organizations and institutions never learn that the cover-up of a scandalous, illegal or immoral activity is almost always worse for those involved than the actual events being covered up?"
I submit that, in tbis particular case, we can safely conclude that the cover-up was not worse than the crime.
The cover-up was truly worse than the crime.
I thought of this today as I read a letter to the editor in today's paper, commenting on the latest revelations in the Penn State child abuse scandal. Last week, a report condemned Penn State officials, including the late legendary coach Joe Paterno, for their inaction in response to Jerry Sandusky's actions. Today's letter-writer asks, "Why do our political leaders, our business leaders and the heads of so many other important organizations and institutions never learn that the cover-up of a scandalous, illegal or immoral activity is almost always worse for those involved than the actual events being covered up?"
I submit that, in tbis particular case, we can safely conclude that the cover-up was not worse than the crime.
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