Israel.  Clearly.  How can a person alive to-day not be distracted by the nonsense?  My question though, is, when was the last time we heard talk about solutions?  These days the talk is about whether one can criticize Israel and not be anti-semitic.  The answer is yes, but that question then turns everything into an episode of Seinfeld.  Only a Jew can criticize Israel, and even then they tend to become self-loathing.  The Right has again taken away the discussion and turned it into something unproductive.

To-day was cold, everywhere I went was cold.  The Swede’s place was too cold for morning fun.  The gym was too cold to worry about being surrounded by yoga girls (maybe I’m just sensitive because I have a small mat).  The Tin Fish was too cold to ignore the insipid kid and his whiny dad.  My place was too cold to think about the yoga girls.  Now I am at a chain sports bar for some cold sports, Stanley Cup finals, and am finally comfortable.  In a national chain.  *sigh*

The waitress just asked if I wanted some food.  “Maybe after I sober up.”  She looked at my just-delivered beer and laughed.  Little cutie with a red-dyed mop on her head always laughs at my jokes.

I read a Lester Bangs review of Bob Dylan’s Desire.  Holy shit!  It was tight and, oh, so, devastating.  I only wish I had the ability to be so mean.  So, here goes:

I notice there has been no response from The Wooden Pickle about the cover wars.  He said it was on.  What a cock-tease.  An articulation of the above Bangs’ piece and my calling him out:

“[Buttercup] doesn’t give a damn about [music], and if he spent any more than ten minutes actually working on the composition of [It’s ON: Cover Song Battle] then Bryan Ferry is a member of the Eagles.”

“At length I concluded that any [post] whose principal utility lay in such an emotional twilight zone was at worst an instrument of self-abuse, at best innocuous as a crying towel, and certainly was not going to make me a better person or teach me anything about women, myself, or anything else but how painfully confused [Buttercup] seemed to be.”

Stay Warm,

SN

Bangs, Lester.  (1976, March 8).  Bob Dylan’s dalliance with mafia chic: He ain’t no delinquent, he’s misunderstood.  The Village Voice.

I am not sure why I decided to read this article to-day.  Procrastination?  Even though the end of the debate season and impending freedom is the growing light at he end of the tunnel?  Regardless of cause, I needed the good laugh.

Mendelsohn’s argument is that Inglorious Basterds (Quentin Tarantino: Pulp Fiction)  is a bad film.  Maybe he doesn’t it find it bad in the artistic sense, but he finds it bad in the dangerous sense.

An alternative, and morally superior, form of “revenge” for Jews would be to do precisely what Jews have been doing since World War II ended: that is, to preserve and perpetuate the memory of the destruction that was visited upon them, precisely in order to help prevent the recurrence of such mass horrors in the future.

I have two orders of criticism of this alternative.  First, Mendelsohn is incorrect about his description of the real Jewish act of remembrance and second, this alternative, even if descriptively accurate, is the real danger.

Are Jews merely remembering?  No.  Munich (Steven Spielberg: Saving Private Ryan) was based on a true story.  That is clearly not a case of mere remembrance.  Hunting down former Nazis and having them extradited and prosecuted is not mere remembrance.  Some will argue, correctly I believe, that the Palestinian/Zionist issue is also a manifestation of the Jewish attempt to say ‘never again.’  Even if the Palestinian/Zionist issue is not an active policy for revenge, it clearly demonstrates the inaccuracy of Mendelsohn’s remembrance alternative.

Mendelsohn will probably answer this order of argumentation with a distinction based on revenge and (some other process).  After all, what other possible reason can he have had for drawing the quotation marks around ‘revenge’?  He knew his error and still decided to take the palatable position (it was published in Newsweek, after all); drawing erasure around ‘revenge’ was a way to front load the response, to pre-empt, to my criticism.

Second order, memory vs killing.  It is not odd that Mendelsohn valorizes the current Jewish revenge act of remembering.  What else are they to do?  The Nazis are gone and/or already punished.  The reason may not have anything to do with a choice.  The Jews of that time, the kind in the movie, had a choice.  Mendelsohn, however, equivocates them as having the same options before them.  This is a silly burden to place Tarantino within.

In the Tarantino/Mendelsohn binary, I would put my money on Tarantino as being the one with the most horsepower.  An odd prediction for me as I would almost always bet on the critic.  Maybe Tarantino’s larger argument is one not about revenge but rather about violence.  Mendelsohn resonates with me when he says the Jews in the climax scene are nearly the same as the very Nazis they are exterminating.  Yes.  And that is what I found to be the brilliance of Tarantino’s movie.  Both the Jew and the Nazi were acting a violent revenge fantasy.  Mendelsohn’s insight stops short.  Sadly, this does not prevent Mendelsohn from lodging a criticism based upon morality.  This is what is known as exceptionalism (a topic worthy of a career, let alone a blog post).

I will return to the next two paradoxical concepts later: abnegation (acting out to prevent acting future acting out) and interruption.  Both are reasons why Mendelsohn’s alternative is wrong.  It is interesting that Mendelsohn cites ‘inversion’ at the top of his piece (the description) but then forgets its relevance in the bottom (the criticism) because inversion is the product of the interruption.

One last aside.  Mendelsohn foreshadows his own jumping-the-rails in the second paragraph.

Tarantino, who began his career as a video-store clerk,

That’s an interesting aside.  It is accurate.  But why is it said?  There are two reasons, assuming that a good writer (Mendelsohn usually is) uses every word carefully.  First: it is an act of denigration: most filmmakers begin in school, but Tarantino did not hence his lackluster-ness is understandable and predictable; second, as exemplariness: most filmmakers begin their careers in school, hence Tarantino’s magnificence and brilliance.  I decided to default to the second reading, even if I was not a fan of Tarantino’s prior work.  But, I’m an optimist.

Mendelsohn, however, intended the first reading, the lackluster impression of Tarantino.  Fourth paragraph:

[M]ovies aren’t real life, and this is where Tarantino, with his video-store vision of the world, gets into trouble.

Serve that sentence up with a side of anti-intellectualism and you get Sarah Palin (anti-intellectual and privilege masked as populism).  Maybe that sentence was not quite fair: the Sarah Palin function also requires sentimentality.  But wait, the Mendelsohn “morally superior” alternative is precisely sentimentality: historic revisionism where the people of the past are given to-day’s options.

I recently saw The Reader (Stephen Daldry: The Hours), I like having seen the major movies before the Academy Awards are handed out, and sadly I still need to see Milk, Frost/Nixon, and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button by Sunday.

Anywho, I thought it was a great movie, written by a real fan of books.  The usual things struck me: believable acting, enticing story, gorgeous backdrops and a zero-yawn factor.  There is one thing that really struck me about this movie I have not seen in a long time, its attention to detail.  There are two examples that really stood out to me.

In the opening scene we see young Michael (David Kross) ill in front of the apartment building where Hanna Schmitz (Kate Winslet: Titanic)  lives.  In the background are pieces of wood and I remeber thinking to myself that it looked like construction was still going on on the set.  But as time advanced so too did the construction.  It is that sort of attention to detail that while not making a great movie is a product of the same forces that make a quality movie.  It also helps that it was consistent with my understanding of German pre-war prosperity and growth.  The surest way to influence a critic is to make her think that whats she already knew was correct.

The second example of attention to detail also occurs in the beginning of the movie, these two insights probably influenced my favorable viewing of the movie later on, as the affair between Michael and Hanna is occuring.  The few times Daldry shows a sex scene Michael is always on top, missionary position.  Later, Hanna tells Michael that he is too concerned with planning.  The next shot is of her on top of him, teaching him a lesson about letting go of control.  That is tight writing, where everything is important and yet not necessarily explicated.

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