What's he on about now?

In case the articles, essays and opinions throughtout this site just weren't enough for you, here's my online diary (a.k.a. 'blog'). It's as close as you'll come to the inside of my head, so don't say I didn't warn you
(and remember, you can always e-mail me if you love or loathe anything you're about to read)...


   Wednesday, September 29, 2004

HEY! GET A ROOM!

In the years since Calvin Klein's famous giant underwear model billboard in 1981, New Yorkers are probably immune to the provocative sexual imagery in his ad campaigns.

But now there's a new billboard that's certainly made everyone look twice. The ad is undeniably
a) memorable
b) hot!
c) going too far
Even the blogger who posted it says, "I'm no prude, but come on!"

We can't be too surprised, though -- has everyone forgotten CK's infamous "rec room" campaign in 1995? In a weird way, Klein is almost providing a public service: by constantly pushing the envelope on sexual imagery, he forces the public to consider and decide exactly what is or isn't acceptable. Most porn laws, after all, are based on vague labels of "community standards" so it's good to have a debate once in a while.

Just as long as he doesn't pat himself on the back for it. In a 1984 Playboy interview, Klein declared:

What I'm going to say may seem pretentious, but 20 or 30 years from now, I believe someone may look at all the commercials I've done and view them as a vignette of the times, a reflection of what people were thinking, the moods of today.

Well, it's been twenty years but the thoughts seem exactly the same.

WHAT CHEESE

You've never heard of James McIntyre? The legendary Canadian 'cheese' poet?
That's about to change!

Labels: Canada

GLAD SOMEONE SAID IT

In a New York Times article last week, Bill Carter wrote about the decline of television programming (looking at YOU, Donald Trump!) and its repercussions:

Last week, the Mitsubishi Motor Company pulled every penny of its advertising from prime-time network shows, $120 million worth, because, as Ian Beavis, its senior vice president for marketing, put it, "There's nothing compelling in the new network programming."

Mr. Beavis, who said Mitsubishi would place more ads on cable and local television shows, as well as spend more on magazines and Internet sites, said he was just one of many advertisers expressing frustration with the networks.

"How long can you pay more for less?" he asked. "Someone has to finally say enough."

QUOTE OF THE DAY

From a Macleans interview this week, geneticist-author-activist David Suzuki on complacency regarding our environment:

"It's terrifying. We're going right down the chute, but I don't think anyone can say it's too late. The role model for me is Nelson Mandela. If he could stay in jail all those years and have hope, nobody's got the right to say it's too late."

HALFWAY HOME

This past Friday, Nova Scotia became the sixth province in Canada to legalize same-sex marriage. This comes less than two weeks after Manitoba did the same. This leaves five provinces and one territory still in the twentieth (if not nineteenth) century.

Of course, that's just geography. The fine folks at ReligiousTolerance.org point out that, population-wise, things are rosy:

Assuming that same-sex couples are evenly distributed across Canada, 82.3% of them can marry after 2004-SEP-24 without having to leave their province or territory of residence. In fact, many gays and lesbians gravitate towards the larger cities like Halifax, Montreal, Toronto, Winnipeg and Vancouver where same-sex marriage is already allowed. So the actual percentage of gays, lesbians, and bisexuals in committed same-sex relationships who are now able to marry in their own province or territory is probably somewhat higher.

As always, though, it's the homos in rural areas who still have a rough road ahead so the work isn't over yet. The funny thing about the same-sex marriage debate for me is that I'm still not completely sold on a system that bestows benefits on married people and leaves out singles. Trying to visit someone in the hospital, for instance, and being kept out because you're not "family" bothers me immensely and I don't see how gay weddings will change that beyond a lucky few.

But progress comes in inches and gay marriage is merely that -- though you wouldn't know it from the overblown rhetoric of those opposed. A same-sex marriage bill in Spain (a friendly home to the far more subversive filmmaker and provocateur Pedro Almodovar) led to this pronouncement:

"[Same-sex marriage] would impose on society a virus, something false, which will have negative consequences for social life," [Catholic bishop] Juan Antonio Martinez Camino said.

I'm confused -- I thought rampant promiscuity was supposed to have negative consequences for social life (like actual viruses) -- but here's the part that I loved most:

Socialist Prime Minister Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero took office in April, intending to remove what he called the Church's undeniable advantages...The changes have distressed and outraged the Church, whose influence on Spaniards has declined precipitously since the death in 1975 of the dictator General Francisco Franco. His regime was closely linked to the Church.

Ah, yes, the glory days with Generalíssimo Franco, who famously said, "Our regime is based on bayonets and blood, not on hypocritical elections," and proved it by having nearly 20,000 political prisoners put to death over his 36-year reign. Good times!

And people wonder why I'm so hard on the Church. I'm a fair guy, though, so I'll make the Pope and his gang an offer: I'll shut up when they shut up.

Labels: Canada, Trawna

CLASSY!

Cheers to Cynthia Nixon for handling the tabloid press with grace and honesty. The "Sex and the City" actress was outed by two New York papers today, revealing that she has been dating another woman since January.

"We will not confirm or deny anything," Nixon's publicist, Cari Ross, told AP. "My private life is private," Nixon told the Daily News. "But at the same time, I have nothing to hide. So what I will say is that I am very happy."

Hollywood celebrities, take note: gay or straight, out or closeted, this is what you say.

VIVA LA REVOLUTION

Paul Berman at Slate has a terrific takedown of "The Cult of Che," following a standing ovation at Sundance for the new film bio, "The Motorcycle Diaries," and months of those damn T-shirts. All this and a poem from imprisoned poet and journalist Raúl Rivero -- thanks, Paul!

IT'S HANDY, IRREGARDLESS

In that last post, I asked myself -- as I often do -- "Is it benefitted or benefited?" Once again, I turned to Future Perfect, a fantastic site for word geeks everywhere. Reading the memos I do, I wish more people would visit it!

JANE JACOBS ROLLS OUT THE WELCOME MAT

Bit by bit, step by quiet step, the US creeps ever-closer to a new draft. I think it's terrific -- Canada benefited from the influx of interesting, anti-war Americans during Vietnam (here's interviews from the CBC) and it looks as though we will do so again.

Having said that, however, I'm surprised by this talk of a "draft-dodger memorial" in BC. That's a bit over the top. While I understand and support those who fled America during that draft (and the next one!), celebrating their "courageous legacy" is a bit ridiculous.

For one thing, it sets up a zero-sum game of bravery -- if the deserters are courageous for sticking to their principles, the thinking goes, then those who agree to join the military must be cowards or pawns. Ever told a soldier he's a coward? Doesn't go over well. For the record, I was pleased by the distinction in "Fahrenheit 9/11" between attacking the war in Iraq and honouring the soldiers who've fought there. It's an important one to remember.

Honouring draft-dodgers in BC? Not so much.

DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING WITHOUT SPAM?

Here's a new low in e-mail -- I am apparently now sending myself garbage! I received this e-mail from my own address:

"Give it to her good with Vi-agra 5
Super V//AGRA Will Keep you rokk hard all weekend long.
- Do what you never thought you could again
- Be king of the bedroom"

This is wrong on SO many levels...

CAN OF WORMS

Look what happens when you look under the rock at a guy like Jimmy Swaggart -- I wandered over to HateCrime.org to illustrate a point and soon found myself reading a memorial site for Bill Clayton, written by his mother. Bill was a gay teen who killed himself in 1995, after having been both sexually and physically assaulted in two separate, terrible incidents. As his mother explains,

He didn't leave a suicide note, but he had said to me before he was hospitalized after the rally that he was just tired of coping. It was the constant knowledge that at any time he could be attacked again simply because of who he was, that at any time his friends could be attacked for the same reason, that despite the love of his family and friends all he could see ahead was a lifetime of facing a world filled with hate and violence, going from one assault to another. He was 17 years old - an age when kids are supposed to be excited about moving out into the world as adults. The only place he felt safe was at home. He saw no hope, so he chose to end his life.

I wish that story were sadder to me. I wish it didn't feel so...common. Most of all, I wish Bill could've hung on another few years. Things are better now, even though I surprise myself for thinking that. I see little evidence -- I know that Bill's vision of "a world filled with hate and violence" is not incorrect -- but there are enough people out there with brains, energy, wisdom and big, big mouths that the bullies don't seem so terrifying. Bill needed to meet more of them.

HOW ABOUT 'NO, THANK YOU'?

A story today on Jimmy Swaggart's apology following his clumsy advice on what to do when a homosexual makes a pass at you:

"'And I'm going to be blunt and plain: If one ever looks at me like that, I'm going to kill him and tell God he died,' Swaggart said to laughter and applause from the congregation. Today, Swaggart said he has jokingly used the expression 'killing someone and telling God he died' thousands of times, about all sorts of people. He said the expression is figurative and not meant to harm."

About all sorts of people? Thousands of times?
You read that too, right?

Evangelical Christians frequently harp about being persecuted by a liberal-dominated, politically-correct, secular-yada-yada society, but no one ever suggests killing them (or actually killing them, unlike these gay kids). The real reason they can attempt to claim some 'persecuted minority' status is that the majority of people are too intelligent to want anything to do with an idiot like Swaggart.

POP? ART?

Those ever-quirky Pet Shop Boys and about 25,000 of their fans invaded Trafalgar Square last week for an outdoor screening of Sergei Eisenstien's silent-film classic, "Battleship Potemkin" with a new score by the pop duo.

In an interview, Neil Tennant explained, "Eisenstein apparently said that he wanted there to be a new soundtrack written for the film every decade...'Battleship Potemkin' is about a revolution, and Trafalgar Square is one of the arenas for extra-parliamentary political expression. It's amazing to be given Trafalgar Square for a night."

Labels: Pet Shop Boys

ALL THAT FOR AN AUTOGRAPH?

"He should've taken the Peace Train," joked the newscaster on the radio this morning (joked?) as the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens was refused entry to the United States. His London-to-Washington flight was diverted to Miami (conveniently located near Guantanemo Bay!) because the artist now known as Yusef Islam is on one of the US' "watch lists". I'd have to agree, though, that repeated playings of "Morning Has Broken" or "Cats in the Cradle" could be considered terrorism.

CAN JOSH HAVE ANOTHER BIRTHDAY NEXT WEEKEND?

I'm lucky to have friends like Danielle and Josh.
They're lovely people, funny and warm, and -- though that's quite enough -- they also invited me to her cottage this weekend to celebrate Josh's thirtieth birthday.

Josh's friend Eddie drove us up to Danielle's family house in Innisfil on Lake Simcoe. The weather was cool but sunny and we'd filled the car trunk with food. Really, I haven't eaten so much in months. While our hosts were taking care of barbeque supplies, Eddie had a massive cherry cheesecake and I'd brought up a pan full of these seafood puff pastry thingies and those lime-and-pepper potato chips Josh and I are crazy about.

Then, when we stopped off at a roadside store for fresh corn, I had to buy the peach pie and maple-nut fudge. Danielle refused some fudge and Eddie declared not being "big on the maple" but, after I obviously forced it on them for their own good, they asked for more. Country fudge -- there's no denying it.

A Saturday afternoon spent doing little else than drinking beer and playing frisbee is a rare and wonderful thing.

Later, two other couples joined us -- both of them delightful -- but, as the night wore on, they had the odd effect of making Eddie and I feel very single indeed, especially when we formed teams for a board game and everyone started vaguely treating us like a couple. I could see him squirm at the notion while trying not to hurt my feelings and I felt awkward for him. Someone made a joke about the two of us "bunking up" together and I prayed for the floor to open up and swallow me.

Sillier yet was the room itself -- nearly bare with two tiny twin kid's beds covered in adorable multicoloured sheets and a pair of giant stuffed toys. There was a large Foghorn Leghorn and a big Porky Pig inexplicably clad in a black motorcycle jacket. "These have got to go," said Eddie. "They're creepy," I agreed. Josh popped his head in and asked if anything was up. "If I wanted to be around pigs in leather," I said, "I'd have stayed down on Church Street!"

It was way too late in the evening/early in the morning to get too concerned though -- most of us had stayed up till four playing poker and sampling Josh's gift bottle of scotch. Oooh, baby. And the pleasure of staying over and sleeping in far outweighed any grumblings over the beds.

At least until the morning. That's when I found out that Eddie had retreated to the living room sofa in the middle of the night on account of my horrible snoring. It's strange to feel so guilty for something you don't know how to fix but it brought back unpleasant memories of Bryce waking me up in the middle of the night with an elbow to the ribs and hissing, "Shut...UP!" Good times. On a happier note, that sofa is definitely more comfortable so Eddie was better off in the long run.

After bagels and coffee, more sun, more food, more drinking, more frisbee.
Now that's a weekend!

Labels: friends

A BLATANT PLUG

As "Indecision 2004" draws near, Jon Stewart and "his coterie of patriots" at "The Daily Show" have created "America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction":

"American-style democracy is the world's most beloved form of government, which explains why so many other nations are eager for us to impose it on them. But what is American democracy?"

Can't wait to see the answer!

YOU WIN SOME, YOU LOSE SOME

At the end of the workday last night, I was offered a pair of tickets to last night's gala premiere of "Modigliani" at Roy Thompson Hall. I was thrilled to accept them but I had half an hour's notice to find a date. I drove several of my friends crazy as I called to say, "Movie. Now." All wanted to go, none was able to go. Most of us just aren't that spontaneous.

So I went solo and basked in the splendor of RTH, settling into a balcony seat. The movie stars Andy Garcia, who's one of those actors everyone admires but no one gets excited about. I was standing a few feet away from him as he walked in, patiently signing autographs. My reaction to most celebrities is either indifference or a fear of bothering them so I'm not an autograph-hound.

His performance as the bohemian icon Modigliani is wonderful, however -- topped only by that of French actress Elsa Zylberstein, playing his mistress. While the movie irritated me with its stylistic flourishes and more of that 'artist-as-rock-star' routine, it was her performance that ultimately won me over. By the end, I was as teary as anyone else in the theatre and happily joined in the standing ovation at the end.

I overheard a woman talking to her friend about the film as I walked down King Street afterward. "These people are icons to us now," she said, referring to the film's depictions of Picasso, Rodin, Cocteau and other Montemarte denizens, "but back then, they were living on the margins." Nice, I thought, maybe the film will draw attention to the 'starving' part of 'starving artist.'

I continued up Yonge Street past Wellesley and -- for the second time this week -- ran into Steve, one of the pub managers. While I was desperate to stop working there, I still enjoy running into many of the people. He was out with his boyfriend and I told them how I'd just come from a 'gift' movie. "Want another one?" he shrugged, handing me two tickets, "We can't go." For the second time yesterday, I was handed tickets to a movie with twenty minutes notice. I thanked them and ran.

I tried three people from a phone booth on Charles, reaching only my ex who was already in pyjamas. "At 9:45?" I teased, "Well throw some jeans over them. It's a dark theatre -- no one cares what you're wearing." I was half-kidding. Half.

I ran to the Cumberland theatre, walked up and said hello to the volunteers, and found I had nothing to give them. Where the hell did the tickets go? "You've still got a couple pockets left," suggested one of them but I knew they were gone. I couldn't believe it -- I'd won and lost within minutes of each other! I could only laugh at my own (mis)fortune as I walked through Yorkville.

As I passed that phone booth again on my way home, I stopped and looked around and, unbelievably, the tickets were lying on the Charles Street sidewalk. The time was 10:05 pm. Do I go back? Do I go home? I laughed out loud and sprinted back to Avenue Road. An usher at the theatre led me to a seat in the very last row of the theatre. The movie had started only a few minutes ago.

The film was a German thriller called "Hotel," clearly influenced by David Lynch, Stanley Kubrick's "The Shining" and "The Blair Witch Project." The film unfolds at a glacial pace as its timid main character, a Gwyneth Paltow lookalike, walks through the hotel and its surrounding woods. One hallway ends in darkness and she walks away from the camera, disappearing into the black. I remember David Lynch doing a shot like that in "Lost Highway" and found it both beautiful and creepy. Here, however, that motif is repeated, not once but again and again until it becomes a bit ridiculous.

Clearly, the director was more interested in the heroine's inner conflict but even Polanski's "Repulsion" had a plot! By the time the movie drifted to its spooky but obvious conclusion, I was itching to leave the theatre -- making my whole dashing-about-the-city drama that much sillier in retrospect. Still, any movie seen at the film festival is always a treat -- I even remember the terrible movies I've seen there with fondness -- and it's always nice to see my luck hold up.

BUNNIES!

How wrong is this?
Way too much time on their hands (and is that Bryan "Usual Suspects" Singer?)

HOW FAMILIAR

The UN says that satellite evidence of a military complex in Iran "clearly shows the intention to develop weapons". Sounds like they should send inspectors who could investigate and report back to the UN in order to delay any military action against Iran.

Oh, wait...damn.

Labels: Middle East

"THE NOVELTY OF CGI HAS WORN A LITTLE THIN"

A welcome article from USA Today on how "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow" could be the ultimate computer-animated film...or the last:

"If we're not careful, we could see a backlash" from moviegoers, says Hutch Parker, president of production for 20th Century Fox, which has reaped millions from high-tech films, including the Star Wars franchise. "We're seeing more films employing expansive CG effects without asking whether they're essential to the experience of the movie. We're pulling off these fantastic effects because we can, without asking if we should. And that's dangerous."

IT'S A WHITE THANG

I was telling my friend and colleague Jeff about the new Chris Rock special I rented last week (and it's brilliant -- please do the same). Specifically, we talked about his bit on no longer being able to "intellectually defend" hip-hop. It was nice to hear someone else say it for once.

I don't know if it's age or just my own utter whiteness but I used to like rap music, or at least find it interesting even if I didn't automatically take to it. Public Enemy were brilliant, Ice-T was fiery, Young MC was funny and Run-DMC were the masters. But these days, hip-hop's unyielding flow of misogyny, money-grubbing, homophobia and narcissism does very, very little for me.

What's especially irritating is the implication that feeling this way makes one a racist. Jeff tells me about filling out a university residence application that asked about his musical tastes. He checked 'country' for 'likes' and 'urban' for 'dislikes'. The girl he handed the form to looked it over and assured him that he probably wouldn't have a black roommate then. Jeff was appalled at the obvious presumption that he was some hillbilly redneck.

Me, I once told a guy at the record store that I didn't care for rap and he replied, "Oh, so you're not into black music." I was irked. Does owning numerous CDs of Prince, Miles Davis, Aretha Franklin, Charlie Parker, Marvin Gaye and many others not count as liking black music?

"Yeah," said Jeff, "I've got my Lionel Richie CDs."

YOU CAN'T WRITE THIS STUFF

Last week at the office, the overzealous folks at Pitney Bowes responded to our questions about an erratic postage metre by simply sending us a new one. That's a bit wasteful, we thought, so I called them up and said no thanks. They offered to send someone over to retrieve it but, a week later, it's still taking up space on my desk.

So I dove back into the murky waters of their telephone extension system, an endless series of prompts in english and french that keep directing me to various submenus, websites, etc. When I stabbed the '0' for an operator, the line hung up on me and I had to start again. I finally called a completely different department in order to find a human that would transfer to the person I needed.

While waiting with the speakerphone on for several minutes, I looked back at the invoice we'd received and there it was at the top of the page:
"Pitney Bowes -- Engineering the flow of communication."

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

Why am I still single? Well, Noel Cowan is already taken, for one. He's the co-director of the Toronto International Film Festival and former programmer of the 'Midnight Madness' portion of the fest. He counts 'The Towering Inferno' as one of his all-time favourites

According to the bio in today's Star, he and his partner Nathan have bought a house in Cabbagetown and look forward to renovating and spending time with their dog.

I hate them.

Labels: oh l'amour, Trawna

HANDLE WITH CARE

An irritating morning for film buffs, or at least this film buff -- the business pages report that Sony will indeed be buying MGM, the last independent major film studio, and its massive catalogue of over 8000 movies.

Time Warner was close to signing an all-cash deal with the studio but Sony and its partners ponied up more money at the end than Warner was comfortable matching.

What does this mean? Two things, both somewhat grim for DVD buyers.

First, there's the discs themselves. Every month, Warner Brothers releases beautifully-restored editions of its classic films (the recent 'Film Noir', 'Cary Grant' and 'Alfred Hitchcock' box sets were superb) and their prices are always reasonable. Sony, by contrast, owns Columbia Pictures, whose discs are intermittently released, of average quality, and priced in the $30-$40 range apiece. Now they own the James Bond, Pink Panther and Rocky movies, among thousands of others. A real lost opportunity.

Second, there's the bigger issue of 'high-definition' DVD. While one group of companies -- including Time Warner -- has introduced HD-DVD, another group -- led by Sony -- has rolled out a different 'Blu-Ray' standard. While both formats will play current DVDs (sigh with relief), the new formats will be incompatible with each other. Here's a whole rundown, if you're really curious, but basically it's VHS and Beta all over again. You think Sony would've learned their lesson but no, and now the MGM catalogue gives them more leverage.

DISTURBING QUOTES OF THE DAY

Joseph Schumpteter in 1919, describing the Roman Empire with an odd relevance to today:

"There was no corner of the known world where some interest was not alleged to be in danger or under actual attack. If the interests were not Roman, they were those of Rome's allies; and if Rome had no allies, the allies would be invented. When it was utterly impossible to contrive such an interest -- why, then it was the national honor that had been insulted. The fight was always invested with an aura of legality. Rome was always being attacked by evil-minded neighbours...The whole world was pervaded by a host of enemies, it was manifestly Rome's duty to guard against their indubitably aggressive designs."

Richard Ouzounian, interviewing 'mercurial' actor Nick Nolte in today's Toronto Star:

"Looking at his unruly, matted hair, it's hard to believe that this was the same man who actually appeared in ads for Clairol's 'Summer Blonde' 35 years ago."

And this personally-upsetting verse from jazz-kid Jamie Cullum's otherwise-delightful "Twentysomething" album:

"After years of expensive education
A car full of books and anticipation
I'm an expert on Shakespeare and that's a hell of a lot
But the world don't need scholars as much as I thought."

Labels: Trawna

KILLING THE BUDDHA

I look forward to receiving a copy of Thailand's new etiquette guide for 'culturally insensitive foreigners'. A film poster of an American(!) sitting on a giant Buddha statue's head was apparently the final straw. The BBC report says that 'disrespecting the Buddha's image is taken seriously' in that tiny nation known for its tolerance of child prostitution. Priorites and all.

Coming from my own vague-to-reasonable knowledge of the religion, I don't see why the fuss. The excellent spirituality website Killing the Buddha explains how its name comes from the Zen parable advising students to eliminate all attachment, even to their god or master.

I'm pretty sure that goes for statues, too.

UNFORTUNATE LINKS

The BBC News site is always reliable but has a way of occasionally being a bit too droll. Do they do it on purpose?

In a story on Colin Powell's efforts to step up the pressure on Sudan, the site reads like this:

Powell declares genocide in Sudan
Analysis: US patience runs out

That's right -- first the genocide, then the US says that's enough. A pair of colleagues here agreed that it was a shame the Sudan has no oil fields.

Have we all become way too cynical?

LEFT AT THE ALTAR

I'm now officially a bastard. I called up my cousin Kim last night and told her that I will not be coming to her wedding next weekend.

It's not as though I don't have an excuse -- my friend Danielle is inviting a gang of people up to her cottage next weekend to celebrate her Josh's 30th birthday. Josh is a great guy, he's turning 30, he's frightened. How can I not go?

Besides, as shocking as it may be to say it aloud, I really hate weddings. As much as I want to be there to celebrate the love lives of my friends and family, nothing -- nothing -- makes you feel more single and alone than attending a wedding. It's a spiteful attitude -- loneliness is my fault, not theirs -- but attending several weddings in a year takes it toll.

I talked to Kim on the phone last night and she was OK about it. I mean, the truth is that we've barely said five words to each other in ten years, so it's not as though I'll be missed. It's more to do with the rest of the family seeing it as a slight. I ignored the advice of my sister, who told me I should lie and say I have to work or something. "She'll guilt you into it!" Paula warned.

Well, no. Those days are over. I'm a bastard, after all.

Labels: family, friends, introspective, oh l'amour

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

After playing Charles Dickens in a hit one-man show, you'd think that the wonderful character actor Simon Callow would want a break. Instead, he's agreed to play Dickens in an episode of next year's revamped "Doctor Who" series. In an interview on the BBC site, Callow says:

"To be honest, when they sent me the script, my heart sank. As I know all about Dickens, I can say with authority that most attempts to put him on screen are awful - and there are a lot of them. But this script is fantastic."

Damn.
I was already pleased with the show's return. Now I'm finding it hard to wait.

Labels: Doctor Who

MUDBALLS

Every four years, the US presidential race is always fascinatingly ugly. I still fondly remember George Bush Sr.'s smear campaign against the hapless Michael Dukakis (wonderfully parodied on 'Saturday Night Live' with fake campaign ads like, "George Bush: Tall Enough to be President"). Everyone loved Clinton because, throughout two races, he so slickly dodged attacks that he didn't need the mudball-slinging and came off looking better for it.

Not so this time around. John Kerry seems to be aping Clinton's 'I-feel-your-pain' image but the public's not buying it. Meanwhile, the Bush team -- smelling blood in the water -- continues to apply the same formula that 'won' in 2000: George Bush is simple and strong; John Kerry is wishy-washy and untrustworthy (They may be right on 'wishy-wishy' but they're definitely right on 'simple').

And then there's Dick Cheney, the dirtiest fighter of all, who's come right out and said, as Bill Maher has amusingly paraphrased, "You're going to die if you vote for John Kerry."

While the Democrats decry his "scare tactics", I'm just astonished yet again by how stupid Cheney believes the American people to be, and also by how George Bush's lead in the polls may prove him right.

Labels: George W Bush

GENESIS REVELATIONS

Some hugely disappointing news today as NASA's Genesis probe crashed to Earth after its parachute failed to open. The probe was launched in 2001 at a cost of $264 million to collect tiny particles of 'solar wind'.

Scientists hoped that the micrograms of solar atoms would enhance our knowledge of the sun's origins but now that looks unlikely. Genesis hit the Utah desert ground at about 100 miles an hour and suffered severe damage.

WORDS FAIL

I've always believed that words matter, that what we write and speak and whisper and rant can change the world. Something like the horror this week in Russia shakes that belief from edge to core. What can anyone say in the aftermath of this?

Making this nightmare worse is the evidence that this is not only an 'in-house' Russian problem, that the Chechnyan rebels were apparently aided by Islamic militants. It feeds into the global fear that these terrorist bastards are everywhere, unstoppable, and that maybe all this warmongering in Afghanistan and Iraq is justifiable, inevitable. There's just no end to bloodshed in sight, and now it's children in a school.

This is why I'm so incredibly thankful for Judea Pearl and Akbar Ahmed. These two men are quietly proving that dialogue does matter:

"At some other point in history, Ahmed and Pearl probably never would have crossed paths...Yet they've become partners and, gradually, friends. Every few weeks they travel to another city for an event with a title like "Towards Interfaith Understanding: A Journey Through Dialogue." It's a low-tech communications medium: two chairs on a stage, two mikes, two men talking about their religions and the misunderstandings and tensions between them, while several hundred people listen. It can seem a paltry effort in the face of the unceasing violence in the Middle East and the accompanying rift between Judaism and Islam. Yet Ahmed and Pearl are a hit, with organizations around the world begging the interfaith roadshow to stop in their towns.

That quote is from this marvelous article by the Washington Post's Paula Span. I read it today and felt better than I have all week.

"The world must be in worse shape than I thought," Ahmed says, "if just two old men talking gives people hope."