The Sin of Popularity

... and then that’s not even accounting for the people that will be disagreeable simply because it’s popular.  I’ve known people like that, and I’ve never understood that: that it’s like, this is the #1 movie in the world, and that is why I will not watch it.  And I’m like, seems like you just miss out on a lot of dope shit that way, but okay.

Thus sayeth B. Dave Walters, the great sage and teacher.  And, while normally I tend to agree with what B. Dave says (I’ve quoted him several times, in fact), this time I felt a little called out.  After all, I have (very puposefully!) never seen Titanic, nor Forrest Gump, nor Rocky, nor The Godfather, nor The Sound of Music ... in fact, on some random Internet survey of winners of Best Picture Oscars ranked according to how much people actually like them, I’ve only actually seen 7 of their list of 22 (and only 3 of the top 10), and if I consider which movies I’ve just never gotten around to watching, I can only generously come up with a further two.  That means that, on this list of Academy-Award-winning films that people actually enjoy (as opposed to the pretentious twaddle that usually wins), I’ve actively avoided watching 13 of them.  Honestly, to have lived this long managing to avoid seeing Titanic is becoming somewhat of an accomplishment in and of itself these days.

But it’s also instructive to look at the films on that list that I have seen: Rain Man, Braveheart, Dances with Wolves, The Silence of the Lambs ... I didn’t go see any of those films because they were popular, or because they had won awards: I saw them because they looked good, and they interested me.  Hell, I rushed to see Silence: it was one of the few films on the list that I was really excited to see.  As was the film that inspired the article: Everything Everywhere All at Once is surely an anomoly—an utterly non-pretentious, nerdy movie inspired by The Matrix, Groundhog Day, and various Japanese anime (and none of those have ever won Best Picture awards), and yet it swept the Oscars.  Of course I’ve watched it.  It’s the most “my kind of movie” in this whole post.  But several of the others make perfect sense for me: “Braveheart” and “Dances with Wolves” are both historical action films with cool sword and/or gun fighting (as is Gladiator).  I’m not sure I can explain Rain Man and Kramer vs Kramer other than to say “Dustin Hoffman,” and I will admit that I’ve only seen Casablanca beause a friend convinced me that I simply couldn’t go through life without having watched it, but, in general, the ones I’ve seen make sense, for me.

And, likewise, the ones that I haven’t seen make sense ... for me.  Let me get this straight: you want to pitch me a love story (not a fan) that’s a period piece (not a fan) in a historical context that involves zero swords or guns (not enticing) about an event that I already know quite a bit about, including how it ends?  Oh, and it’s over three hours long?  No thank you.  Why would I ever watch such a thing?  Well, you reply, because it’s one of the highest-grossing films in the world (and the first ever to reach $1 billion), it won 11 Academy Awards (tied for the record with Ben Hur and Return of the King), it won a bunch of other awards, critics loved it, it’s appeared at the top of many lists of the best movies ever, the music won Grammys, and so on and so on.  But does any of that change what it’s about?  It’s still an overwrought love story with a very predictable shipwreck that goes on for three hours ... right?  Why on earth would I watch something that is so antithetical to everything I know I enjoy in a film?  And did I mention the three-hour time investment?  I mean, for a 20 minute short, I might be willing to give it a chance, but three friggin’ hours ... why would I torture myself in that manner?  Just because it’s popular?

Because here’s the correction to what B. Dave was saying.  Speaking as one of those people who pride myself on not doing many things just because they’re popular, I have to take objection to his characterization.  The poularity is not why I won’t watch the movie (or read the book, or eat the food, or listen to the music, or whatever).  But the popularity sure ain’t gonna change my mind.  Look, I’ve already gone over my stance on Cynical Romanticism, and I covered my experience working at Burger King where I first began to understand that people, collectively, are herd animals.  That doesn’t mean that I don’t respect the opinions of any given individual, of course.  But, as Mark Twain once said, “Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to reform (or pause and reflect).” I mean, if you’re watching movies that you don’t think you’re going to like just because a bunch of other people are telling you to ... isn’t that just peer pressure?  Bad for sex and drugs but okay for movies, I guess?  I’m just not seeing it.

Look, I’m not saying I’ve never been wrong about whether I’d like something or not before.  I’ve spoken before about liking John Grisham even though I typically hate lawyer stories.  When Grisham first started getting popular, I assumed I wouldn’t like it, and I was wrong.  But what I am saying is, I’ve never discovered something great by following the crowd.  I didn’t read my first Grisham novel because everyone told me to.  I read it because it was the least bad choice of novel in some beach cabin we’d rented one year, and I was bored stiff.  I may have also mentioned in passing that I dig Tom Clancy too, even though I’m not into spy novels.  So did I pick up The Hunt for Red October because it was a national bestseller, or because it got made into a high-profile film starring Sean Connery and Alec Baldwin?  Nope.  I got it because a friend—one friend—advised me that they thought I’d like it.  Not that they liked it, mind you (though of course they did), but that they thought I would.  And I respected this person enough to know that, if they thought that, they were probably right, so it was worth giving it a shot.  But, not once that I can recall, throughout my entire life, have I ever thought, “well, that sounds terrible, but the public seems to love it, so I guess I’ll love it too.” Never can I remember trying a very popular thing that I didn’t think I would like and being proven wrong.  It just has never happened.  Maybe it will one day.  Except probably not, because I doubt I’m going to suddenly start jumping on bandwagons at this age.  But I won’t say never, for sure.

What’s really funny to me is that I totally misheard what B. Dave was saying at the beginning of the quote.  When he started talking about “people that will be disagreeable simply because it’s popular,” I assumed he meant people that will be disagreeable because it’s popular to be disagreeable.  In other words, disliking something just because it’s popular to do so.  Like, how everyone knows that Nickelback is the worst band.  Except, you know, they’re not.  I’m not saying they’re amazing or anything, but, c’mon: you can’t tell me you can listen to “How You Remind Me” and not think “damn, that song kicks ass.” Ignore the cheesy video: just listen.  And I find this particular example especially intriguing, because that song was super popular.  In the US, it was #1 on the Hot 100 (which is the “main” US chart), plus #1 on the alternative, rock & metal, and mainstream rock charts (a truly dizzying bevy of contradictory genres).  It was #1 in Austria, Denmark, Ireland, and Turkey, and top five in a dozen other countries.  Wikipedia further tells us that it was “the number-one most played song on US radio of the 2000s decade” according to Nielsen, with 1.2 million spins, and Billboard ranked it #4 of the decade.  On the other hand, hating Nickelback has become an Internet meme, and Wikipedia will also tell you that Rolling Stone readers voted them the second worst band of the 90s (behind Creed), and that some music dating site’s users voted them the number one “musical turnoff.” So, if we think we’re supposed to be going along with popular opinion ... exactly which popular opinion are we supposed to be going along with?  ‘Cause I gotta tell you: if I was ever on a musical dating site, my number one turnoff would be pretentious twats who dump on bands like Nickelback and Smashmouth just because it’s popular, and anyone who puts Nickelback in the same breath as friggin’ Creed is obviously looking around at all their friends and saying “just as bad, am I right? guys? I’m right ... right?” and definitely not listening to “How You Remind Me,” which, you may recall from the beginning of this paragraph, kicks some serious fucking ass.

So I won’t watch Titanic just because everyone else in the world has, and I won’t refuse to watch a Keanu Reeves movie just because the Internet tries to convince me he’s a bad actor.  Because, sure: Parenthood and Point Break didn’t demand much of his talent, and every once in a while you hit a true stinker, like Much Ado about Nothing, but I also know that Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure is an amazingly fun watch, and The Matrix is one of the best movies of all time, and, if you really need to prove to yourself that the guy can actually act, you can go watch The Devil’s Advocate or My Own Private Idaho or River’s Edge or A Scanner Darkly.  But some people just wanna diss Keanu and Nickelback because “everyone” knows they suck.  I mean, seems like you just miss out on a lot of dope shit that way, but okay.

Apparently, time flies whether you're having fun or not

Whew!  It’s been a crazy week.  Family stuff, work stuff ... hopefully it’s all settling down soon.  But luckily this was a short post week anyway, so it all works out.  Let’s see how next week comes out.

The Fox May Grow Grey, but Never Good

Many moons ago, I would often tell people that I didn’t think that Rush Limbaugh believed the things he said.  “This guy,” I would tell anyone who asked, “is just performing for the audience.  Oh, he might believe something he’s saying every once in a while, but it’s almost accidental: believing or not believing is completely irrelevant for him.  He makes a lot of money with this act, and he will literally say anything for the money.”

Now, Rush’s popularity faded, and eventually he died, and younger folks today might not even remember who he was.  But the sad thing is that there was always someone coming along behind him, trotting out the same old act—some even priding themselves on taking it further—saying the same old bullshit, and making the same old bank.  First Bill O’Reilly, who has himself come and gone by this point, then Glen Beck (gone but trying to stage a comeback, I’ve heard), Alex Jones (fading fast), Sean Hannity (still around), and current star pupil Tucker Carlson.  Not to imply that right-wing douchebaggery is only a man’s game, of course—folks like Laura Ingraham and Jeanine Pirro are fighting to break that glass ceiling, for some reason—but it’s mostly been the men, hogging the spotlight, as men are wont to do.  But the point is, there’s always been someone, and usually several someones.  And, for every single one of them, I’ve said, repeatedly, I think it’s all an act.  I don’t believe for one second that any of those motherfuckers believed a single word of the shit they were spewing, except maybe by accident.  Many of them are very well educated, and it’s quite simply not logical to believe they’re that stupid.  ‘Cause, you know, they’ve said some stupid shit.  Limbaugh once said that “firsthand smoke takes 50 years to kill people, if it does” (he, of course, died of lung cancer).  Jones once said “the majority of frogs in most areas of the United States are now gay.” Megyn Kelly (who is not Laura Ingraham, but is a credible imitation) once said “Santa just is white.” Not only do I not believe that any of these people believe what they’re saying, I think they’re engaged in a competition to see who can say the most ridiculous bullshit and make it sound credible.  I imagine a Victorian-style English gentlemen’s club where Hannity, wearing a long walrus moustahce, is slapping Kelly on the back and saying, “oh, good one Megyn! ‘Santa just is white’ ... bally good show, eh wot wot?”

And, for all the decades that I’ve been saying this, people have been telling me I’m full of shit.

Not just conservatives, mind you.  Most liberals also seem convinced that these folks are true believers, which of course is more dangerous.  Though ... is it?  Would it be more dangerous if someone truly believed the hate they were shoveling, or if they were cynically manipulating people into a hate they couldn’t be bothered to feel?  Perhaps an academic question.  Point being, I’ve been ridiculed for having this view just about every time, by just about everybody, from just about every point on the political spectrum.  I’d like to say that I kept saying, “just wait: one day you’ll see.” But, the truth is, I didn’t actually hold out much hope of this.

Oh, I’ve had some glimmers of hope along the way.  In 2017, Alex Jones was involved in a vicious custody battle; his wife, unsurprisingly, said she didn’t want her kids being raised by someone who routinely made homophobic comments and indulged in outlandish conspiracy theories.  Jones’ lawyer claimed: “He’s playing a character.  He is a performance artist.” Kinda sounds like what I’ve been saying for years, right?  But of course people said he was just saying those things to get out of legal trouble (which was probably true).  In late 2016, Glenn Beck did an interview with Samantha Bee of Full Frontal wherein he said: “As a guy who has done damage, I don’t want to do any more damage. I know what I did. I helped divide.” Sure sounds like he not only wasn’t drinking his own Kool-Aid, but had rather come to regret ever selling the stuff.  Still, people said that Sam Bee and her people had edited the interview to show the narrative they wanted to show (which, also, was probably true).

But now, my friends, I have achieved total vindication, thanks to Dominion Voting Systems, and their more than one billion dollar lawsuit against Fox News.  See, because what we’re learning now is not what Fox News people are saying in court; no, what we’re learing now is things they said, to each other, in private, which is now evidence in court.  And I don’t think anyone believes that the court is editing the information to fit a narrative ... in fact, if anything, Fox is the one doing the editing.  Just this week, the judge in the case sanctioned Fox News for withholding evidence.  Plus, as law professor RonNell Andersen Jones pointed out in an interview with Jon Stewart, there’s still a lot of information that is redacted in the court filings.  The stuff that we know about is the stuff that “either they thought that they could let it go or ... they lost in an effort to redact it.”

So what do the texts and other messages say?  By now you’ve likely heard the worst of them.  Tucker Carlson describing Trump as “a demonic force, a destroyer” and writing of the ex-president’s lawyer “Sidney Powell is lying by the way. I caught her”; Ingraham replying “Sidney is a complete nut”; Hannity saying of Giuliani “Rudy is acting like an insane person” and calling Powell a “fucking lunatic.” Not only do the messages show that the on-air personalities didn’t buy the bullshit they were peddling; they also tell us exactly why: it’s all about the money.  When the New York Post asked Trump to stop claiming the election was stolen, they started losing readers; Rupert Murdoch (owner of both the Post and Fox News) messaged the Post’s chief executive “Getting creamed by CNN!” When a Fox reporter tweeted that “there is no evidence” of voter machine defect or fraud, Carlson texted Hannity “Please get her fired.  Seriously what the fuck?  Actually shocked.  It needs to stop immediately, like tonight.  It’s measurably hurting the company.  The stock price is down.” None of this is controversial.  None of this disputed.  None of this is paraphrased or edited in any way.  All of it has been reported multiple times by reputable outlets (the links I’ve included above range from ABC News to the Guardian in the UK to Rolling Stone magazine), and they’re direct quotes from court evidence.  And this, as Andersen Jones points out, is what they couldn’t get suppressed.  There’s like a lot worse out there waiting to be unredacted.

But, hey: this is sufficient for me.  This, I think, proves my point to a T.  These idiots don’t believe what they’re saying.  What’s worse, they don’t care how much damage it does, as long as they keep making money.  At the end of the day, that’s really all it’s about.  So is it more dangerous that they might all be true believers?  I’m not sure.  I think the truth might be even more dangerous than that: that they are all cynical, performative, money-grubbing assholes who care more about lining their pockets than they do about the state of our democracy.  They are, in many ways, the ultimate expression of late-stage capitalism: fuck ’em all, let the world burn, as long as I get my nut.  That’s plenty scary enough for me.

[A side note on today’s title.  Wiktionary refers to it merely as a “proverb,” and says it basically means the same as “a leopard cannot change its spots.” Now, if you ask the Internet, it will gleefully tell you that this saying derives from Benjamin Franklin, and one source (which I refuse to link to) even has the balls to source it as being from Poor Richard Improved.  But, see, here’s the thing: the entire works of Mr. Franklin are available on Project Gutenberg, including Franklin’s Way to Wealth; or, “Poor Richard Improved", and the only thing it says about foxes is that “the sleeping fox catches no poultry.” In fact, after some diligent searching, I have concluded with a decent degree of confidence that Franklin never said any such thing.  So, you know ... don’t believe everything you read on the Internet.  If you want more musings on quotes, I got you covered.]

Gothic Gaming

This weekend we’re going to try finish up the many-times-postponed birthday game of D&D that my eldest prepared for my middle child.  And, yes, it’s nearly a month late, but ... well, shit happens.  After getting postponed due to sickness, unpreparedness, and all around general grumpiness, I ended up having to postpone due to fallout from my big work project, which I finally pushed to production on Monday.  So we started on Friday, but we started late, and now we’re finishing today, so, TL;DR: you get no proper post again this week.

But, in order to have something to put up, I thought perhaps I’d tell you about some of characters for this game.  We’re doing a sort of Gothic horror game, though it seems so far like it’s less Ravenloft and more Castle Amber (if you speak D&D, you’ll get what I mean).  My middle child opted for a flesh golem moster hunter barbarian—think Frankenstein’s monster, one of the intelligent but reticent versions, weilding a combination sword-shotgun (I, Frankenstein might work, or any number of videogame characters).  I can’t give you too many more details than that, because I wasn’t responsible for helping build that character.

My youngest, on the other hand, came to play with a creepy-as-fuck concept.  Silvin is a young man with no eyes (he wears bandages over where they should be) who wears dark, baggy, nondescript clothes ... including gloves, which cover the fact that he has eyeballs in his palms.  So he has to take his gloves off if he wants to see, but on the other hand he can move through the world just fine as a blind person.  He can’t speak, but he can communicate telepathically.  He is a bard of the college of whispers, which gives him access to powers like Psychic Blades, Words of Terror, and Mantle of Whispers.  As if that weren’t enough, he’s a feat machine, having taken Telepathic, Telekinetic, Shadow-Touched, and Gift of the Gem Dragon, which latter is just more ways to push people around with your mind.  Aside from Words of Terror, he can cast cause fear, fear, danse macabre, dissonant whispers, phantasmal force, and phantasmal killer, which is a hell of a lot of ways to be a scary dude; when it comes to “look into my eyes” type shit, there’s the aforementioned Mantle of Whispers, plus even more spells: enthrall, confusion, unearthly chorus, Tasha’s hideous laughter, mental prison, crown of stars, and synaptic static.  And I haven’t even listed all the spells he knows ... did I mention we’re 14th level for this one-shot?  It’s crazy.

For myself, I resurrected an old character of mine that I had for a previous one-shot (also Gothic horror, and possible also for a birhday game).  She was only 7th level, but it was easy enough to bring her up to 14th.  She’s a rogue inquisitive and also a warlock of the Raven Queen (pact of the blade).  I built her to be a mystery-solver who can also hold her own in a fight.  She’s a lavender-skinned tiefling; I found this image on the Internet drawn by Bright Bird Art:

So she looks pretty much like that, except that her staff is actually illusory, so she can stab you with it (she summons her pact weapon, a scimitar, so that it’s inside the illusion of the staff), and she has a raven on her shoulder which doesn’t look quite real.  In terms of feats, she is Perceptive and Mobile; in terms of eldritch invocations, she wears her Armor of Shadows, and can summon a Cloak of Flies when she needs to be really scary; in terms of spells, she can also mess with your mind too: via puppet, ego whip, or Raulothim’s psychic lance.  Her expertises are in acrobatics, stealth, investigation, and perception; in battle she likes to cast spiritual weapon in the form of a person-sized raven and then either eldritch blast from afar, or get into the mix using Mobile, her improved pact weapon, and sneak attack.  In social situations, she’s pretty darn good at persuasion and deception, but she’s not afraid to break out that cloak of flies, which can do poison damage if you stand too close, and, if you don’t, there’s always infestation to send those little buggers out up to 30 feet away.

So that’s our primary party (my eldest’s partner is playing a helpful druid, but he’s really closer to an NPC), and we’re exploring a vampire’s castle and seeking out and destroying various loose, undead organs.  We got the stomach and the liver so far, but I’ve a feeling there’s a lot more to go.  Wish us luck!

Infinite Birthday Season

This weekend, my youngest is having her birthday weekend.  She almost made it to the end before the curse of the Holiday Sickness came for her as well.  So we may very well be doing more make-up time next weekend, just as we had to do for the middle child—this is starting to turn into the never-ending month of birthday celebrations, and it’s already next month.  But we shall see if everyone recovers and is satisfied with their birthday experiences.  Hopefully it’ll all work out.