I love David Attenborough. He was the creator of "Planet Earth," which was absolutely beautiful, and I've started exploring his earlier work. Right now, I'm obsessed with the series "The Life of Mammals." Attenborough leads the viewer from the most primative of mammals all the way up to human beings. Even if you were the type of kid who was obsessed with all things animals, you'll still learn something new. Much of Attenborough's work is available for instant view on Netflix.
Showing posts with label This World Is Ridiculous. Show all posts
Showing posts with label This World Is Ridiculous. Show all posts
Friday, January 30, 2009
The Life of Mammals
I love David Attenborough. He was the creator of "Planet Earth," which was absolutely beautiful, and I've started exploring his earlier work. Right now, I'm obsessed with the series "The Life of Mammals." Attenborough leads the viewer from the most primative of mammals all the way up to human beings. Even if you were the type of kid who was obsessed with all things animals, you'll still learn something new. Much of Attenborough's work is available for instant view on Netflix.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Rise of the Superman
Yesterday Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt set a new 100m world record (9.69s) en route to an Olympic gold medal.
Impressive? Not really, this is the seventh time the record has been either lowered or met in the last three years (Bolt held the previous mark at 9.72s). Advanced training techniques and equipment technology (and sometimes drugs) designed to enhance elite-caliber athlete's freakish, innate physical gifts all make times that were once unthinkable almost routine.
A new record is neither unexpected nor surprising. BUT, in a world where any stumble, lapse in focus, or change in environment can cost precious hundredths of a second, closer scrutiny of Bolt's race reveals what may be the most remarkable athletic performance in recent history:
Bastards at NBC are squashing YouTube videos of their coverage - here's a French version
Even if Bolt's performance was drug-aided - a distinct possibility given sprinting's recent history of tainted champions - his doctors should be lauded for their efforts; no other human has ever made moving so fast look so absurdly easy. It's like the last scenes of the Incredibles when they finally let Dash compete in a track meet and he dials back his superhuman speed to make the end result look at least remotely plausible.
Impressive? Not really, this is the seventh time the record has been either lowered or met in the last three years (Bolt held the previous mark at 9.72s). Advanced training techniques and equipment technology (and sometimes drugs) designed to enhance elite-caliber athlete's freakish, innate physical gifts all make times that were once unthinkable almost routine.
A new record is neither unexpected nor surprising. BUT, in a world where any stumble, lapse in focus, or change in environment can cost precious hundredths of a second, closer scrutiny of Bolt's race reveals what may be the most remarkable athletic performance in recent history:
- At 6'5" Bolt is a natural 200m runner who was considered too tall and lanky for the explosive 100m event. He had only run one 100m at the senior level before this season.
- In preparation for the race Bolt woke at 11 am, watched TV, ate some McDonalds chicken nuggets, took a three hour nap, ate more chicken nuggets, then warmed up.
- A notoriously poor starter, Bolt had the second slowest reaction time out of the blocks.
- He was running with no tailwind - usually a crucial factor in WR performances.
- 70m into the race, Bolt, sacrificing form and aerodynamics, turned his head to check his competition. No one was there.
- 80m into the race, he spread his hands to his side, slowed, and pounded his chest in jubilation. Percentage wise, this would be the equivalent of a marathoner deciding to finish the last 2-3 miles of their 26.2 mile race at a leisurely jog.
- All of this was accomplished with his left shoe untied and his shirt partially untucked.
Bastards at NBC are squashing YouTube videos of their coverage - here's a French version
Even if Bolt's performance was drug-aided - a distinct possibility given sprinting's recent history of tainted champions - his doctors should be lauded for their efforts; no other human has ever made moving so fast look so absurdly easy. It's like the last scenes of the Incredibles when they finally let Dash compete in a track meet and he dials back his superhuman speed to make the end result look at least remotely plausible.
Monday, August 4, 2008
That Crap Danny Listens To
What was the number one song on your birthday? You can find out here. Mine was "Let's Go Crazy" by Prince & the Revolution from the motion picture soundtrack to the movie Purple Rain. Do I remember this? Of course not.
"Prince is lame," cried the world when I was growing up and I believed it. Perhaps he was everywhere in 1984, but by the early '90s when my memory began he was nowhere to be found. I didn't consciously listen to a Prince song again until freshman year in college.
Now I listen to a Prince song nearly every day.
"Prince is lame?" But we were perfect together. As an infant did I subconsciously absorb the then ubiquitous Purple Rain soundtrack over FM radio, only to have it repressed during my childhood?
Innocent unconscious > repression > rediscovery > guilty pleasure > unrepentant conscious celebration.
A few years later I discovered that Jonathem Lethem's Tourettic private eye, Lionel Essrog, was a kindred spirit. He hears "Kiss" on the radio for the first time:
... twitching and throbbing within obsessively delineated bounds, alternately silent and plosive. It so pulsed with Tourettic energies that I could surrender to its tormented, squeaky beat and let my syndrome live outside my brain for once, live in the air instead.
"Turn that shit down," Minna said.
"I like it," I said.
"That's that crap Danny listens to," said Minna. Danny was code for too black.
Too black but too powerful to be ignored and Lionel tracks the record down. His reaction to what he finds makes perfect sense to me:
Prince's music calmed me as much as masturbation or a cheeseburger. When I listened to him I was exempt from my symptoms. So I began collecting his records, especially those elaborated and frenetic remixes tucked away on the CD singles. The way he worried forty-five minutes of variations out of a lone musical or verbal phrase is, as far as I know, the nearest thing in art to my condition.
Faced with the absurdity of rational life in the modern world? Let's go crazy indeed. Zizek must have had Prince in mind when he advised us to enjoy our symptoms. Simultaneously unrepentant and devout, there is no line between prayer and orgasm. Horror movie screams live side by side with trite romantic couplets; wanton dominatrices masturbate in public, luring unsuspecting innocents back to their castle for a night of mind blowing pleasure; the drives and desires are looped ad infinitum, endless variations on endless themes.
A throbbing, twitching world, exulting in exhaustive repetition. Nothing is complicated.
One week later, "I Just Called to Say I Love You" by Stevie Wonder was number one ...
"Prince is lame," cried the world when I was growing up and I believed it. Perhaps he was everywhere in 1984, but by the early '90s when my memory began he was nowhere to be found. I didn't consciously listen to a Prince song again until freshman year in college.
Now I listen to a Prince song nearly every day.
"Prince is lame?" But we were perfect together. As an infant did I subconsciously absorb the then ubiquitous Purple Rain soundtrack over FM radio, only to have it repressed during my childhood?
Innocent unconscious > repression > rediscovery > guilty pleasure > unrepentant conscious celebration.
A few years later I discovered that Jonathem Lethem's Tourettic private eye, Lionel Essrog, was a kindred spirit. He hears "Kiss" on the radio for the first time:
... twitching and throbbing within obsessively delineated bounds, alternately silent and plosive. It so pulsed with Tourettic energies that I could surrender to its tormented, squeaky beat and let my syndrome live outside my brain for once, live in the air instead.
"Turn that shit down," Minna said.
"I like it," I said.
"That's that crap Danny listens to," said Minna. Danny was code for too black.
Too black but too powerful to be ignored and Lionel tracks the record down. His reaction to what he finds makes perfect sense to me:
Prince's music calmed me as much as masturbation or a cheeseburger. When I listened to him I was exempt from my symptoms. So I began collecting his records, especially those elaborated and frenetic remixes tucked away on the CD singles. The way he worried forty-five minutes of variations out of a lone musical or verbal phrase is, as far as I know, the nearest thing in art to my condition.
Faced with the absurdity of rational life in the modern world? Let's go crazy indeed. Zizek must have had Prince in mind when he advised us to enjoy our symptoms. Simultaneously unrepentant and devout, there is no line between prayer and orgasm. Horror movie screams live side by side with trite romantic couplets; wanton dominatrices masturbate in public, luring unsuspecting innocents back to their castle for a night of mind blowing pleasure; the drives and desires are looped ad infinitum, endless variations on endless themes.
A throbbing, twitching world, exulting in exhaustive repetition. Nothing is complicated.
One week later, "I Just Called to Say I Love You" by Stevie Wonder was number one ...
Monday, July 28, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Oh, Please
John McCain tells Maryland Republicans "I know how to win wars." Which ones? I'm sure we're all very grateful for Mr. McCain's service over the years but this is like Sergio Garcia saying "I know how to win majors*."
*for non golf fans, Sergio Garcia is a Spanish golfer who despite playing in many majors over the years - and acquitting himself exceptionally well in several - has never actually won one.
*for non golf fans, Sergio Garcia is a Spanish golfer who despite playing in many majors over the years - and acquitting himself exceptionally well in several - has never actually won one.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Watching the World Burn
By this point anything you read about The Dark Knight is bound to be full of spoilers, but if you haven't seen Christopher Nolan's beautiful thriller yet and are looking for some solid, spoiler free previews to whet your appetite, I recommend David M. Halbfinger's March 9 article "Batman's Burden."
A few hours removed from my first viewing, I think that a second viewing might be in order before I write a full review. Suffice to say that Nolan's film is an impressive and ambitious addition to not only the comic book film pantheon but to the crime genre in general - a tightly woven, scarily realistic morality play about the role of chaos in our fair play obsessed culture.
Go see it and we can all talk about it....
A few hours removed from my first viewing, I think that a second viewing might be in order before I write a full review. Suffice to say that Nolan's film is an impressive and ambitious addition to not only the comic book film pantheon but to the crime genre in general - a tightly woven, scarily realistic morality play about the role of chaos in our fair play obsessed culture.
Go see it and we can all talk about it....
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Nader Being Nader
Nader: Obama "talking white"
Is Nader pointing out the, ahem, white elephant in America's living room or is he beating a long-dead horse? The Obama campaign seems to think the latter, while us Molly readers would tend to think the former. Considering how completely misunderstood Rev. Wright's various "remarks" were in the media, is it intelligent to raise such complicated issues in an arena driven by headlines and sound-bites? Is that the whole problem?
In other news, Fritzl's trial will begin "this year." Maybe the movie will be out by then.
Is Nader pointing out the, ahem, white elephant in America's living room or is he beating a long-dead horse? The Obama campaign seems to think the latter, while us Molly readers would tend to think the former. Considering how completely misunderstood Rev. Wright's various "remarks" were in the media, is it intelligent to raise such complicated issues in an arena driven by headlines and sound-bites? Is that the whole problem?
In other news, Fritzl's trial will begin "this year." Maybe the movie will be out by then.
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