Vox Populi, Vox Dei

Or, the voice of the people is the voice of God. Here at Things Other Things, I’m always trying to be responsive. So I’ve decided to take a moment today to respond to some of the insightful feedback nuggets you nice folks have left for me.

In re: My post on Why TV is better than the Movies, Lesley astutely points out that a major downside of TV is that it gets abruptly canceled. I too have felt the sting of early cancellation! Curse you NBC for taunting me with the potent intellectualism of Studio 60, for once making me believe that America Is Real Smart, and then yanking out the carpet of Sorkin Speak! May your fall lineup rot like Olive Garden leftovers! A pox upon your house, HBO, for delightfully unraveling the mysteries of Carnivale only to tie up so tantalizing few by the end of season two that I was forced to get my fix of Biblical metaphor from *gasp*Network TV. (In fact, reflecting on those two shows in particular, I can see that both seemed to suffer for being too smart. Lesson today is that people hate smart.)

Anyway, I see Lesley’s conundrum, but I don’t think that movies necessarily do a better job of creating satisfying endings. For every Sixth Sense, there’s a The Village. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked out of a movie with some burning unanswered question due to lazy filmmaking. The best examples I can think of are Lost in Translation and The Piano. “What?” you’re sitting there thinking. “What about?” Or “Whatever happened to?” My point is that TV shows often get cancelled and thus never end, but movies do not necessarily have more satisfying or effective closure. Thanks for this comment Lesley, and for being my friend even when I was a nerd in high school.

In re: My post on Why I Like Rosie, JR writes that just because someone is loud and obnoxious does not mean they are an effective communicator; therefore, Rosie’s rants on the View don’t actually accomplish anything. I would agree with JR that she’s not making any converts. I would argue that Rosie draws attention to issues that the American public prefers not to think about, and certainly doesn’t wish to discuss in the comfort of a morning talk show. I’m concerned that we live in a society where none of our popular culture reflects the Real World we live in. In our parents’ day, folks like Bob Dylan topped the charts with songs that talked about, for example, the complicated ethics of war and peace: “How many roads must a man walk down, before you can call him a man?” I randomly turned on the radio today to hear Fergie pondering the age-old question: “How come every time you come round my London London Bridge wanna go down?” With the exception of maybe Jon Stewart (and even he uses humor), can you think of any popular entertainers who consistently address Dylan’s issues? And this is why although Rosie isn’t a solution, she’s certainly a step in the right direction. However uncouthly, she can (London) bridge the gulf between the Paris Hilton-obsessed public and the troubles of the world it inhabits. Thanks for reading my blog, JR. I hope your London Bridge always goes down (Or something. I don’t actually know what that phrase means. As the Good Book says, “To the pure, all things are pure” Titus 1:15).

In re: My post on my favorite American Idol perfs, Kristin has helpfully alerted me to a circa 2002 Kelly Clarkson performance, which, like Kristin, is pretty fabulous. Watch it immediately! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64S5Rn9mlxs

In re: my post on Ian McEwan’s Saturday Jennifer writes (NOT because she’s procrastinating studying for comps, of course) about McEwan’s simile of the smell of hay drying in August. Jennifer objects that she would actually think something like this, but that hay dries in May, not August. Well, Jennifer, McEwan’s character lives in London, which may affect the time he dries his hay (those zany Brits! Drying hay year round!) Or perhaps he, like most of us, wouldn’t know when hay dries, and this is just another example of McEwan messing up point of view. Jennifer also writes that it is a trademark of modernism to write about the mundane in a grand way. She is correct, and I thought I said that in the post. If I wasn’t clear, what I meant was that McEwan is trying to achieve an effect of postmodernism by writing about the mundane, but his modernist impulses keep overtaking the writing. If you’re going to be pomo, for crying out loud, just be pomo, don’t try to dress it up. I’m saying that the writing feels torn between the two and is the worse for it. And I was going to make the connection not only to Ulysses, but also to Mrs. Dalloway, thankyouverymuch, but then I got tired and remembered I was supposed to be on vacation. Thus, Jennifer, I will allow you to cook me dinner sometime and I will pontificate for you to no end (or at least until dessert).

Thanks for the comments, folks! Please keep writing!