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"Satire" has been in the news a bit in the USA recently, largely courtesy of the so-called 'satirical' front cover of the New Yorker magazine. Let's be honest, the Obama-as-Osama cover was about as satirical as putting Angelina Jolie on the cover of People magazine...but that's not to say I'm an anti-satirist.
In fact, quite the contrary, I've realised in the last few days that I'm more for satire than ever before. It struck me when Jon Stewart (the satirist from whom most 18-29 year old Americans get their news) highlighted the astonishing contradictions between President George Dubya's assessment of the economy ("I'm an optimist") and Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke's characterisation of the same (the economy faces "numerous difficulties"). Stewart basically called it like it is....the President was blatantly at odds with his most important and influential economic advisor....and thereby informed the world.
Contrast that then with a story I was listening to today on serious news network, NPR about the "war crimes tribunal" of Osama Bin Laden's "driver". Without any hint of irony, NPR reported that ten senior serving military officials from the armed forces would form the jury. It then stated that the case would be conducted "like most court martials".
Well, I can't wait to hear what Jon Stewart has to say about that!
Was Osama Bin Laden's taxi driver the best bad guy they could find to put on trial? Are they expecting a fair trial for said driver with ten military appointees as the jury? And does a court martial designed to address "a breakdown of military discipline" really apply to the getaway driver of a terrorist?
Come on, surely the NPR folks must have been dying to offer an opinion on this ("patently ludicrous") story?
More opinion. More satire, I say!
About 18 months ago, I set some New Year's Resolutions. I conveniently didn't update you on them last January, given, well, you know how it goes. But I wouldn't want you to think I've forgotten them...oh no!
While we did have a great wedding in 2007, I did 'stablize' my weight (my mountain bike is now almost worn out), and have written two (if not twelve) chapters of my book, probably the area where we've made the most progress is in saving the planet - a.k.a. "making our household a greener household".
In the past year, we have:
Okay, so we're probably still net polluters, but I think we're doing our part. How are you getting on with saving the planet?
For years, whenever he watched a horror film at night, my brother insisted on closing all the curtains, switching all the lights off, and generally creating a morgue-like atmopshere in our living room. He was adamant that not even a single table lamp be left on, for this would make the atmosphere "less scary".
This, naturally, had the effect of making me absolutely terrified (but never being able to admit it to my older brother) and causing me to watch various portions of The Omen, Hammer House of Horror and The Exorcist (which we rented from "under the counter" at Harlequin video) from behind cushions and pieces of furniture.
Then, strangely, about five years ago, Ron declared that he'd had enough of "sick" films. He "couldn't watch" Reservoir Dogs and he no longer insisted on sitting in the dark to build suspense for whatever was on TV. His life values had seemingly changed overnight, and he was done with senseless killing forever.
At the time I thought "How Strange!"..but now I think I understand. Last night I watched "Untraceable"...an utterly sick horror flick. (In a departure from her usual genre, Emma chose it!) I heartily encourage you never to watch it (especially if you have children) unless you want to fuel those dark, horrific fears you have in the back of your mind. (Synopsis: sicko kills people, general public watches live on Internet.)
"Who would want to make a movie like that?" I asked Emma. "Why would anyone want to portray that as entertainment?", I thought to myself. Why would you even want to give someone the IDEA of copying what was in that film? Awful. Shocking. Without value.
As the New York Times put it (I HAD to find out what critics thought of this film): "You may view “Untraceable,” as I do, as a repugnant example of the voyeurism it pretends to condemn. Or you may stand back and see it as a cleverly conceived, slickly executed genre movie that ranks somewhere between “Seven” and the “Saw” movies in sadistic ingenuity."
So, can anyone else report a sudden overnight aversion to sick horror films that occurred in their mid thirties? I'm curious.
When visiting my mum after Glastonbury this week, she reminded me that it's nearly twenty years since I attended my first music festival. I can still vividly remember the first experience too: I went to the Reading Festival with my mate Jeff; we shared a yellow, porous tent which filled steadily with water during a first rain-soaked night and when we awoke the festival started with a band called Gaye Bykers on Acid who introduced themselves with: "Hello, I'm Freddy Mercury, and we're Queen!"
That same year (1989) New Order topped the bill with The Mission and the Pogues. Bjork was still with the Sugarcubes, Spiritualized were still Spacemen 3 and Billy Bragg was...well, Billy Bragg.
Twenty years on I'm still having trouble resisting the allure of a great fest and the Glastonbury Festival is the best of the lot in my book. As tradition dictated, I once again borrowed a tent, only this time it was the rain-resistant type! It did rain (of course, this was England in the summer) but that didn't take the shine off a vintage weekend.
For your enjoyment, I offer a video summary of some very well-spent holiday time. If you don't have the patience to sit through the entire video, skip to the end to see how Jay-Z wowed a reluctant British public.
Movie credit is clearly due to Emma, without whom I would never have believed I was not too old for this sort of thing.
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