More Notes on House - and vote for DUDE

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or something.

Once again, I'm getting sucked into the ongoing season of House, which is something of a worst-case scenario for your productivity when you have every season lined up on your desk ready (and begging) to be rewatched. The old crew of Chase, Cameron, and Foreman is back with a vengeance, definitely feeling more mature than the early seasons and getting more much-deserved screen time...instead of being upstaged on their own show by fucking Taub.

(While I'm driving by, fuck you, Taub. Easily my least favorite character, in retrospect - given how little sympathy he seemed to generate, I wouldn't care much if he left).

Plus, the subplot introduced at the end of the Dibala episode is being brilliantly played (if you haven't followed Immanuel Kant's dictates from last week yet, take the opportunity below to do so). Chase is finally getting exposure as a sympathetic character. Cameron has been admittedly a bit dull and Foreman slightly tyrannical/irritating beyond what's necessary to show character development, but I'm glad just to have them back.

Cuddy and Wilson are consistently funny. The House/Wilson dynamic is explored a bit more, and we're finally seeing chinks in House's sardonic armor (for better or for worse). This should be a good season. Hopefully it doesn't jump the shark for a while...

Not sure how many of people read this, but all the same, if you haven't voted already, go to ideablob.com and vote for Detroit Urban Debate Education.

If you don't, and we lose, let it be on your dark, soulless, warped conscience.

Have a nice day,

--kd

My Bookmarks Tab - or, Obsessions with a dash of House

I spend too much time on the internet. Proof: (1) This paragraph. (2) QED.

But when I'm not caught up in blogospheric narcissism, I keep up on the bizarre melting pot of subculture around me. In a strange way, this blog is itself a product of the wretched hives of scum and villainy around it, a weird amalgamation of freakishly

But before the list, here's the first Immanuel Kant Categorical Imperative of the Week. It's been a while - a long, long while - since I've seen an episode of House on par with James Earl Jones' guest appearance in "The Tyrant". It's got some sweet character subplots (half a dozen of them, actually), a fairly perplexing medical mystery, and (best of all) a superior ethical dilemma for Chase and Foreman to figure out. If your confidence in the show has been flagging of late (mine has, for the record), you are heretofore compelled to watch.

Alright, so, in (somewhat) ascending order, here's what I obsessively keep up with on the internets (links provided for your sycophantic convenience):

10 - Toothpaste for Dinner. Beautifully cynical. Going to college in Michigan has opened me up to Drew's distinctly Midwestern sense of humor. Gems like these just kill me.

9 - The Onion's American Voices section. Bite-size satire at its best.

8 - Cracked. Occasionally brilliant and awesomely addicting. Plan visits to the site's archives in blocks of two hours or more.

7 - Order of the Stick. Dungeons and Dragons and general fantasy gaming parody comic. The site, Giant in the Playground, also has some generally helpful RPG articles.

6 - Bill Simmons, ESPN's Sports Guy. Total Boston hack. Those drinking Patriots haterade may be annoyed, but he's pretty universally funny (especially in twice-monthly mailbags and Vegas running diaries).

5 - Tuesday Morning Quarterback: Legitimately fresh analysis and occasionally sharp satire. The fact that he exclusively covers football and only makes an appearance once a week hurts his position somewhat, but I'll admit that I set aside most of my lunch break on Tuesdays for this.

4 - Garfield Minus Garfield. Perfect mix of existential angst and pathetic hilarity, magnified by how much I loved the original Garfield when I was younger.

3 - Nostalgia Critic. That Guy With the Glasses' best work. Highly addictive archives section, and the "Old versus New" reviews are pure gold.

2 - xkcd. Even liberal arts majors get some of the jokes.

1 - Zero Punctuation. He's British, he talks about video games, he's just fucking funny. This gets me through Wednesdays single-handedly.

Next time on Fifteen Charisma: This one may not come until after the weekend (blog adjournment on account of Wayne State University's debate tournament - although you can faithfully follow Michigan DS' progress here), but eventually I'll get around to more movie reviews and gaming discussion. Also - more philosopher award-naming! I can't wait either.

--kd

Politics and Such - The Tragedy of Olympia Snowe

I meant to post this a bit earlier in the week when it was more politically relevent, but hopefully everybody heard by now about Republican Senator Olympia Snowe's support of the Senate Finance Committee-devised healthcare bill (ie, the modified and oft-maligned Baucus Bill). Conservative backlash against Snowe is astounding; her party refused to support her on an unrelated committee and she's attracting mention as a condemned RINO (Republican in Name Only).

Now, this is hilariously out of proportion. But nothing characterized this as well as a status update I glanced at last Tuesday from a conservative friend, despairing thus: "Snowe, No!" In an equally disproportionate burst of shaedenfreude, I dug up William Shakespeare's perhaps lesser-known work, The Tragedy of Olympia Snowe, and will release more as time goes on and the healthcare debate becomes steadily more ridiculous/close to passage/continues to go nowhere.

Thus I present, Act One, Scene One of the tragedy, featuring the jesters Beck and Limbaugh mourning the sudden breakthrough in progress.

Beck: The vote is in. Sweet Liberty will weep

On hearing of her children, leaving home

And hearth and heaving bosom. Freedom calls,

But Ignorance holds sway in minds of men.

Limbaugh: Hear, hear. The fools are blind. But even sheep

Need shepherding, or wolves in shepherd’s clothes

To spare them Thought, some demon mastermind

In ken of stateliness with treacherous

Intent. I fear a cancer in our ranks.

Something is rotten in the state of Maine.

Beck: Are we betrayed?

Limbaugh: Indeed. Snowe has fallen,

And we must bear the blizzard of her faults.

A bitter chill stings Freedom. Fetch doctors,

While still we can, and hope she lasts the month.

Beck: The volk must be alert. Fetch cameras,

For still we can, and help her last the month.

Let Fact be broadcast, nations reckoning

Returning to the breasts of Liberty.

Great round and welcome orbs, barely restrained

By vestments Lawful, pouring out beneath

The damp t-shirt of Ingenuity.

Limbaugh: You’ve problems of a certain Freudian sort.

But time we’ve not, if word we’re to report

Of villainous deceit, plant buds of Truth

And watch them blossom in the voting booth.

[Exit both.]

Tune in next week when Snowe is confronted by the familiar ghost of another Senator who abandoned his party for his conscience - the Specter of Specter, if you will...

Also, tomorrow's post will feature the first Immanuel Kant Imperative of the Week, as well as some general commentary on House (one of the few shows I will confess to following religiously).

--kd

(Two Plus Two Equals) Five Thoughts for Today

1 - Just got my copy of Alternate Presidents in the mail and tore through it. If you like counter-histories and/or a taste of science fiction, check it out. You will not be disappoint(...ed). Several favorites:

-Ben Franklin becomes president and thoroughly mocks the institution. The piece is written from the perspective of a befuddled and distraught John Adams, and only gets funnier as you realize just how much Ben Franklin Doesn't Give A Shit About Your Problems. (Colonial-period memes are the next big Internets trend, you watch).

-Theodore Roosevelt wins the 1912 election. I actually did a counter-history of my own on this - easily one of the most fascinating scenarios for its effects on the World Wars, twentieth-century environmentalism, and the Great Depression, no matter how you see his third term going. More on this in a later post.

-Michael Dukakis is actually a fucking alien. (I don't think I need to keep talking, do I? Go buy the book, it's like three dollars with shipping).

You will be seeing a substantial amount of counter-historicizing coming from Fifteen Charisma in the future. If I could switch my major to Political Science/Alternate Histories, I would. Excuse me while I schedule an appointment with my counselor. And my psychologist.

2 - A friend of mine at UConn started his own blog, Maximum Overdrive: Expert Musings. Hopefully this guilts him into sharing his readership. At any rate, vindictive and sardonic internet commentators have to stick together, so if you enjoy Fifteen Charisma, I recommend subscribing to MOEM as well.

[Note: Don't be surprised if this area reads "We are at war with Maximum Overdrive. We have always been at war with Maximum Overdrive" at any given strategic interval. In other news, chocolate is being rationed...and I would start talking in Newspeak right now if I was any more of a nerd/was any more clumsy with references.]

3 - I listened to Daft Punk's "Aerodynamic" twelve times on repeat to get myself through an awful essay on Adrastus, star of thirty-odd lines in the Iliad. My head hurts (but it's a beautiful, synthesized hurt). In related news, that shrink needs to move up in my schedule.

4 - Jones Soda Co. continues its trend of excellence. Other than Green Apple (His Noodly Appendage's greatest gift to man), I've tried Grape, Cream Soda, Root Beer, M.F. Grape, Watermelon, and now Cherry. Every one scores somewhere between "awesome" and "glorious nectar of the gods").

Also, every screwcap doubles as a fortune cookie (except for the edibility part...I think). Mine insisted that the tides of change are coming. I have already begun preparations for the coming of Lord Cthulu.

5 - Need help studying for chemistry? Well, I don't, and I love college for that. But if you made the mistake of taking Orgo 231 or find yourself in the School of Engineering with no way to escape, Tom Lehrer is here to help. Even if you're just a liberal arts major with a sick sense of humor, the esteemed Harvard professor has plenty to offer.

Enjoy poisoning pigeons in the park,

--kd

Five reasons to see the Weakerthans in concert

I’ve been waiting to write about this for a while. I took a trip to Detroit (okay, an hour drive, tops) for a concert at the Magic Stick a few weeks ago, accompanied by buddies Mike “Lucky Shot” Bloom and Joe “Hustler” Quist [1]. Here's the best justifications I jotted down (like you need justification other than the Fifteen Charisma Seal of Approval) to see the Weakerthans for yourself:

1. The Audience. Frequently drunk, sometimes boorish, always a joy to be around. When you get a band with a small but loyal following, the folks at the concerts know all the words and aren’t shy to join in on a chorus for “One Great City” (emphasizing the ”I hate Winnipeg” with boistorous glee) They show up early to suffer through three hours of opening acts (fucking seriously, Magic Stick? Three hours?) and wouldn’t let the band leave until a Cat Named Virtute Explained her Departure. And like most of the audience, the band is…

2. Canadian. Very Canadian. Who’d have thunk that our northern neighbors weren’t limited to maple syrup collectors and Mounties? Apparently choosing between depressing cities and a frighteningly cold wasteland can lend some aid to writing music borne out of existential despair. Alright, forgive the overt essentialism, but there’s a certain ineffable Canadian-ness to a setlist that includes songs about curling tournaments, elegies to retired goalies, and odes to the Vancouver bus system. And nobody fits the bill better than…

3. John K. BAMF Samson – this man does it all. He writes the lyrics (each song a short story in itself- more on that below), plays games with the intoxicated crowd, and in one memorable sequence, riffs an extended solo on “Utilities” to bring down the house. He took the stage alone to give the band a break, threw in some acoustic work, and never missed a beat as everybody got back on stage for an absolutely electric “Aside” – yep, that song from the credits in Wedding Crashers. His performance alone was worth the…

4. Ticket price. The band mostly plays at inexpensive venues with general admission – I got mine for a fifteen dollar cover charge and a friend in DC found his for nineteen. As my high school French teacher, the esteemed Patrick Dolan, frequently remarked, “C’est un good deal.” And if that weren’t enough to convince you…

5. Oh, yeah, the music is fucking amazing. Between masterful lyrics (Shakespearean-style sonnets, a nostalgic romp through Antarctica over dinner with Michel Foucault, extended metaphors for embattled love mixed with an Absurd stoicism…) and guitar work that oscillates between the joyful and the haunting, you don’t want to pass these guys up.

Unforgettable experience. Overall? Four Retired Explorers out of four.

--kd

[1] There’s a story behind these. I’ll keep it in the vault for a rainy day, by which time it’ll be hopelessly exaggerated and much more interesting. I'll just say this - if two guys from Michigan challenge you to pool, one sporting a persistent five-o-clock shadow (or on rare occasions, the General Burnsides look) and a Jew-fro, and the other is a lankier Tom Brady lookalike, think carefully before putting money on the line. Just sayin'.

King Arthur (Medieval "History" Double Feature Review Part One)

This is, undoubtedly, Jerry Bruckheimer's finest work. King Arthur, the 2004 sub-Roman biopic, is a masterpiece in philosophical anachronism, seamlessly blending symbolism with action, exposing the parallels between the unlightened Dark Ages and our own hypermodern epoch with only a group of erudite egalitarian Knights between us and the barbaric Saxon hordes. Arthur, a twentieth-century Sartrean, fights side by side with Guinevere, a second-wave feminist, and Lancelot, a rational atheist and rabid skeptic, defending Truth and Meaning from the mindless Germanic masses…

Oh, wait, that's one hundred percent bullshit. This is just an action movie privileged with an awesome myth and burdened by very, very clumsy characterizations.

So...what the hell am I doing reviewing it? I'm not about to take a movie out of the vault to pummel it and tell you why it's not worth watching (except insofar as to emphasize, on a relative scale, just how badly you need to watch Kingdom of Heaven, because you do). So I'll say this much: Despite everything I say in the surrounding paragraphs, this is a movie worth watching. Stop here if you (a) don't want spoilers, trust my advice, and want to see it yourself or (b) you think Jerry Bruckheimer is actually really profound and I'm just missing the point.

First – let’s focus on something positive. This movie is about King Arthur. That’s enough to suck me in; if Hollywood churns out anything tangentially resembling medieval historical fiction (yes, even Timeline) I will probably see it. It’s enough to overcome my extreme dislike of Clive Owen (just as Timeline overcame my dislike of Paul Walker - barely). Sometimes thematic interest coincides with spot-on casting – Robert Downey Jr.’s turn as Sherlock Holmes this December being such an example – but the best King Arthur has to offer is Kiera Knightley and That Guy Who Played Animated Beowulf.

I’ll admit that was somewhat mixed praise. Actually, that was more of a dig than anything. Searching for something positive…

Alright, it’s an interesting take on the Arthur legend. While the movie doesn’t throw out everything (it’s still a round table, even if it has a hole in the middle), it takes a bold risk by recasting Arthur as a Roman officer and the Knights as indentured Sarmatian cavalry. The Arthur origin story is vastly underplayed in favor of jokes about Bors’ twelve bastard children. OK, this tactic actually works, to some degree or another – it gives the remaining knights some backstory and we feel at least somewhat personally attached in the heat of the (lengthy) battles.

A scene that works: The Bishop stops in to the Round Table Room, wonders why there are so few knights (cue a ‘fuck-you’ glare from Clive Owen, one thing he does exceptionally well), then shrugs and assigns them to a potentially fatal quest. We get a solid feel for Arthur’s connection to his men, and the heroes are forced into an uncompromising dilemma. Bravo.

A series of scenes that doesn’t work: Guinevere’s romance with Arthur. This one is puzzling for two reasons: One, it goes off without a hitch, and we get stood up waiting for Lancelot to ruin everything. Two, Lancelot connects better in his scenes with Guinevere (in the director’s cut, anyway) – why is she with Arthur in the first place? The Arthur-Guinevere interaction consists of Arthur fixing her knuckles and Guinevere making him philosophically uncomfortable. There’s nothing that can be called flirting, and then – wait, they’re having sex? What the fuck?

Speaking of which – Lancelot’s character gets the shaft. He’s vastly more intriguing than Arthur, overcomes the Gandalf Problem* with ease, goes back and forth with Guinevere, and still dies without much meaning or excitement beyond Clive Owen’s exasperated (and somewhat underwhelming) mourning. Come on, I want an affair (don’t take that out of context, future mudslingers)…the movie had a great external conflict but little infighting between the Knights.

Finally – the main issue. For a movie obsessed with historical accuracy, bragging about ‘recent archaeological evidence’ and ‘untold stories’ about the Super-Real Historically Indubitable Arthur, there was little to differentiate it from other Arthur stories outside of (a) the absence of Merlin’s wizardry and (b) the way the movie begs to be taken seriously by way of gritty violence and angsty philosophical clashes. I’ll leave the historical anachronisms to better researchers (TV tropes did a real number on it here). The dialogue, though, shouldn’t be excused. I’ve seen deeper discussions of ‘fate versus free will’ in high school literature classes; Arthur seems obsessed with the concept, almost peculiarly so. Nobody else really seems to give a shit, almost like they’re humoring his philosophical hobby, and Merlin only mentions it to grind his gears. It’s faintly absurd that Arthur is orating on the importance of seizing destiny and being free from the moment of birth; everybody around him isn’t so much opposed to the concept as completely befuddled. He frees the serfs at Marius’ estate, but they end up just being refugees and serving on somebody else’s estate until the Black Plague hits in another thousand years.

Lancelot is the only other character that betrays any abstract thought, but most of it is sadly undeveloped reactionary atheism. Guinevere doesn’t really chat about women’s rights, but nobody’s surprised (let alone protests) when she decides to fight. It seems like the three of them were dropped out of the twentieth century into fifth-century Roman England and have no idea how to blend in.

Some stabs at meaning are better than none, I suppose. At least Michael Bay didn't direct the defining Arthur movie of the decade, or we'd have Merlin blowing shit up with his staff and facing down a zombie Uther Pendragon for the fate of England.

--kd

(Maybe) Next Week’s Movie Review: Fifteen Charisma completes its Medieval Double Feature with the substantially more awesome Kingdom of Heaven.

*The Gandalf Problem: Best expounded upon by the Tolkien Sarcasm Page’s review of the original LOTR (a highly recommended and hilarious read, but drop down to number 6 if you’re in a hurry…which you’re obviously not if you’re reading this blog), this phenomenon occurs when one character narrates virtually all of the backstory or gets saddled with the key set-up monologue. It (unfortunately) results in a zero-sum tradeoff with their character development and leaves them with a sad shell of their potential personality.

Upcoming material

Welcome to the under-construction Fifteen Charisma. Since you've already gotten sucked into reading this, here's some fair warning on what's ahead over the next few weeks.

[SRS] = How Seriously You Should Take This Category of Posts

Movie Reviews. [SRS: 'not very' to 'somewhere in the middle'. I like my movies, but my rationale for liking and disliking them is not always immediately recognizable. I enjoyed Constantine but not No Country for Old Men.]

Music. [SRS? Not very - I have eclectic tastes. My favorite artists are a Canadian folk-punk group, a British New Wave metal band...and Rush.]

(Yes, if you're wondering, the point of these examples is to destroy my credibility before I can build it back up again. Good insight.)

Sports. [SRS?: Inversely proportional to your distance from Boston, MA].

Politics. [SRS? Directly proportional to the degree to which you agree with me.]

Local Cuisine. [SRS? Only if math metaphors make you frustrated and hungry.]

Gaming. [SRS? If you have a vague sense for where the title comes from, or if you just rolled to save against a Confusion spell, you might be a good candidate for reading these.]

Things to Watch Out For:

-Fascism. Despite my general political sympathies and cool-mindedness, I suffer from bouts of literary neurosis and occasional posts may consequently devolve into hyperbolic proto-authoritarian rants. [Remember, fascism is in all of us. It's our duty to root it out by whatever violent and obsessive means possible.]

-Sonnets. Those more free-verse inclined
Ought not read on; here's only rhyme
And reason, subject to maligned
Tetrameter. [Think it a crime?
The comments section calls for truth.
(read here: obscenities uncouth.)]
Contradictions, here explicit
Must be excused. My illicit
Deal with Structure, Verse's Devil,
Might just be worth a slice of soul
To make a half-coherent whole
Absent Shakespeare's diction. Revel
In the challenge: It's worked for me,
To one or other small degree.

Also beware:

-Lists that go on longer than originally planned and devolve into poetry.

-Posts dictating how seriously you should take something.

First posts coming this week. Stay tuned.

--kd