Sunday, April 29, 2007

Peter Jackson v. Tchaikovsky

My mom was in town this weekend. We saw the ballet. Yep, I spent my Saturday night at the ballet with my mother. I grew up with ballet. My mom was a dancer and she has taught as long as I’ve been alive. (yes, I took lessons) On the other hand, it’s not something I’ve thought a lot about lately. Seeing one with her inspired some conclusions. Here goes…

Honestly, I can say that ballet isn’t bad. I can appreciate the aesthetic qualities of the production and the athleticism of its participants. The problem is they were designed to entertain people who didn’t have modern attention spans. Swan Lake is like four hours long. This is bad news for a guy that had trouble not drifting off during the Lord of the Rings. An army of orcs and evil wizards battling the forces of light on an IMAX screen can’t keep my attention for four hours. I’m sorry but twenty dangerously thin ballerinas waving their arms in a line isn’t going to get it done. See, the problem is that Tchaikovsky wasn’t composing for people who have the gold package on their cable subscription. He penned those ballets for Russian aristocrats whose other entertainment options included bear baiting, the harpsichord, and syphilis. Given those alternatives I think I would have been a huge proponent of ballet had I been present. Honestly though, beautiful music or not, ballet need some updating. Give us the cliff notes version.

My second point is going to come off as pretty homophobic. (which I don’t think I am, but whatever) I know that not all male dancers are gay. I hear that Baryshnikov pulled crazy ass. On the other hand, there is no denying the influence of homosexuals in ballet. The prince in the Nashville production was chasing swans around with a crossbow that Freddy Mercury would have been embarrassed to carry. Basically it was a tiny glitter-encrusted thing that appeared to use rhinestones as ammunition. They took the most masculine symbol in the show and completely neutered it. If ballet wants to have a broader appeal they should allow a little testosterone to influence things. Instead of calling people homophobic for being uncomfortable with it they should admit that it’s kind of gay. Now, I am not calling for the Bolshoi Theatre to put on a production of NASCAR, the ballet. I’m just saying let’s be honest with ourselves. There are plenty of straight dancers and plenty of straight guys who enjoy going to the ballet. But there are also a disproportionate number of homosexual participants… just like male ice-skating and the WNBA.

Finally, ballerinas are hot. Call me Oedipus Rex because there is something about a girl who dances that I find really attractive. I don’t know if it’s the outfits or the eating disorders but wow.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Swiffer Gets The Axe Body Spray

Consumer technology has been bothering me lately. Almost inevitably it is just packaging with a fancy name for the same product you bought last week. For example, every commercial for detergent has some newly discovered ingredient (brightenite or staindisgrador). These are of course, nothing but fancy words for… wait for it… soap. In the same vein; the people at Swiffer must be stopped. They make a sponge on a stick. Seriously, look closely. It’s a sponge on a stick. And they have multiple versions of this product: Swiffer for dust, Swiffer for hardwoods, Swiffer for that area between your balls and asshole. No one can possibly think that they need all of these products. They are the home economics equivalent of a spoiler on a Ford Taurus, something that you buy because somebody told you it was cool.

The reason I got on this topic originally was razors. Razors are the most visible and notorious promoters of incrementally more useless and extravagant versions of their products. I have often sat in front of the television and mocked Gillette and Remington for their unending attempts to convince America that razors and shaving cream are created in giant laboratories by attractive spacemen. Admittedly, I am not a scientist. I am however, confident that shaving cream is not made by slamming red plasma into blue antimatter in a supercollider. That’s stupid. It’s soap. Soap for your face.

On the other hand, I have to admit that the Fusion is a fantastic product. It vibrates, it has 5 separate blades, it’s neon orange and it’s battery powered… and I… don’t… care. It fuckin’ rocks. You could shave a yak smooth with that thing and the animal wouldn’t notice. I’m sold. Stupid advertising be damned. This is a solid product that I can get behind.

Now, dear reader, before you think I’ve gone soft. I’d like to take a minute to discuss Axe body spray. This advertising campaign is a vivid demonstration of the gullibility of the American populace. This implication of their ads is that if you spray yourself down with a large bottle of cheap cologne, herds of beautiful women will want to sleep with you. It has actually been so successful that other companies are trying to sell the exact same product with the exact same ad. People are spending five dollars on a four liter bottle of smell goods. This is of course violently stupid. However, masses of foolish young men are subsidizing numerous commercials with extremely attractive women. I get to enjoy these commercials. So I guess I can’t really complain. On the other hand, unless Swiffer starts using scantily clad anorexics to sell its stupid sponges, I will continue to rail against them.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Rollertool!!! or alternatively, Drink Mountain Dew

So today I had the privilege of seeing a guy on rollerblades fall down. It was pretty awesome. Not a spectacular wipeout or anything, just the type of awkward collapse that rollerbladers deserve. Reflecting on this later, I decided I didn’t feel bad for chuckling to myself upon seeing this toolbag fall over. Now, normally I think that feeling satisfied watching another human being suffer is morally wrong. On the other hand, I’m comfortable with this particular flavor of schadenfreude.

By undertaking any type of extreme activity you open yourself up to the possibility of other people enjoying the resulting outcome. If, for example, I say, “Hey, I think I can do a double back flip off of this dock.” I fully expect that landing on my face will be met with a roar of laughter. Please, make sure I’m not dead while you laugh, but any injury short of broken bones or concussion is no excuse for cutting your enjoyment short.

Just the other day I found myself making outrageous claims about what wakeboarding tricks I would or would not attempt this summer. I have verbally committed myself to trying (at least once) a tantrum (essentially a back flip). I think this is an appropriate moment to clarify that fact that I am not an excellent wakeboarder. I haven’t been near one for about 6 years, and by that I do not mean to imply that 6 years ago I was capable of more than standing up and going in a straight line. From this, I think we can safely expect that I will concuss myself quite violently when I make this attempt. I fully expect my friends to crack-up at my hilarious, self-inflicted destruction. Hell, it’s only fair.

Wednesday, April 4, 2007

NO FEAR

You know those guys with stickers on their car that say “NO FEAR”. I’m pretty sure that what they’re not afraid of is looking like a douchebag.

Bluetooth Morlock

Today at the gym I saw a janitor with a Bluetooth phone in his ear. How much of a status symbol is it if you have a dustbin and a broom in your hands? Somehow I don’t think he was making an ironic statement. I’m also of course assuming that he wasn’t on the line unloading Nikkei options before the Asian markets closed. (It never occurred to me that the first cyborgs would be lower class. I always guessed that it would be the elites that inevitably took advantage of technology to improve their bodies, laser vision, rocket feet, etc. The Eloi learned this lesson the hard way.) (obscure reference for you) Of course it’s entirely possible that my lack of enthusiasm for this technology is a result of my dislike of the phone in general. God I hope I don’t have to own of those things…

Anyway, if you are not driving or operating something that requires the use of both of you hands you shouldn’t use the headset deal. Are we that detached from our surroundings? The Bluetooth headset was designed so that telemarketers could jog and still try to get you to switch long distance providers, not so fat marginally employed guys could signal to women that they are important. Further, does this type of thing actually work to attract females? It must… why else would there be so many thousand dollar spoilers on five hundred dollar Camrys? I don’t really know how to address this phenomenon that other than, “Nice hustle buddy. Hope that works out for you.”

On second thought, screw those guys. They’re probably getting more play that I do.