The Evil Empire

No, this is not about the Yankees as viewed through the jaundiced eyes of Red Sox fans (though the jinx seems to have returned to the poor Sox this awful August). My target is more serious, concerning an arm of our media that is proving particularly noxious and actually quite dangerous.

I was watching a "20/20" special last night--an Apocalyptic edition--discussing all the possible means by which our planet could be rendered uninhabitable. This ranged from the unlikely (cosmic bursts, roving black holes) to the actual problems being evidenced now through global warming. The actual phrase used was "climate change," which is both more accurate and less specific, but the congruent relationship of skyrocketing (literal and otherwise) carbon monoxide emissions to rising world temperatures was underscored as clearly and convincingly as Al Gore did in his recent movie, and Tom Brokaw in his two-hour special on cable. Hostess Elizabeth Vargas stressed that no reputable scientist or scientific journal is now denying the threat olf climate change or the culpability of human activity in contributing to the dangerous situation.

At this point the editors, in the interest of "evenhandedness," interjected some commentary from purported "experts" debunking global warming as a fraud, and a liberal plot. Interestingly, all these excerpts came from the same source--the Fox News Network. The Fair and Balanced news source. And perhaps the most dangerous source of half-assed propaganda the world has seen since TASS closed its doors.

Now I am not anti-Fox, nor anti-Rupert Murdoch, though I probably would not like him if I met him. His company paid many of my paycheks in the past and I owe my financial security largely to his coffers. I also find Fox an intriguing and creative force in TV, responsible for most of the progressive programming of the past 15 years, including "The Simpsons," "24" and "American Idol." But Fox TV News is another story entirely. It has exploited, falsely, the principles of journalistic "objectivity" to become the voice of the Republican Right. Now if it called itself "Republican TV" at least it would have been honest. But now it has become more than dishonest--it has become a threat to mankind. And I am not being overly dramatic.

When the Iraqi invasion was still a gleam in Bush's eye, the Fox net trumpeted the need for war as the most obvious requirement since Monther's Milk. Every commentator rolled his or her eyes when any guest or politico questioned the military incursion, as though they were insane. Okay, there was military madness in the air in 2003, and few Democrats had the balls to object (perhaps because of the jingoistic cries trumpeted by the Foxites). But with the Iraqi occupation now lasting longer than our involvement in World War II, the tenor of Fox news has become even more militant. "We're now at the beginning of World War III!" I heard one commentator declaim, with guest Bob Baer (former CIA agent) concurring. I don't know whether he was right or wrong, but he was certainly incendiary. Nothing like more hawks, more armies, more weapons. Using Neville Chanmberlain as the universal sample of thoughtless disengagement, everybody who objects to the endless Iraqi quagmire as anything but a noble Crusade is now characterized as a cut-and-run America-hating ACLU card-carrying Democrat traitor.

Call me crazy, but inciting us to further confrontations--especially when our military has been stretched so thin that reservists are getting their second and thir involuntary call-ups--is just a mite, well irresponsible? But let's put these politics aside. What gets my goat more than anything is the network's attempts to deride Gore and the entire science of Global Warming in the interests of a few businessmen. We are not talking about some crazy Muslims or a bad man in charge of Iran. We are dealing with a palpable threat to the survival of our civililization as cities start getting swept away in deluges caused by melting continents like Antarctica. To try to denigrate the real science that has provided us with a last-chance warning is beyond irresponsibility. It can stand in the way of humanity's survival. It is criminal. And, to my mind, since it endangers the welfare of billions of people in the name of stubbornness and ignorance and short-term economic profit it is the essence of evil.

Blue Streaks and Massacres

The big news in baseball this time last week was the history-defying winning streak by an otherwise mediocre Los Angeles Dodger team. Their streak of 16 out of 17 was their best run in over a century, going back to the 1890s, before the franchise was called the Dodgers, perhaps before they even had trolleys in Brooklyn to dodge. Weirdly, this streak followed an equally horrific two weeks following the Al Star Break in which the Blue Crew lost 13 of 14 and was consigned to the ash heap of history by the sport scribes of the Southland. Now they are singing the praises of Grady Little and Greg Maddux and whoever else has been contributing toward what is projected as a rerun of the winning 1988 season, albeit without Kirk Gibson.

Of course the truth falls somewhere in between, though the Dodgers have managed to coast gracefully out of the streak with a series win in San Francisco, a good harbinger that they may have enough to take the division (which is admittedly one of the worst in baseball history). Of course I'm not surprised, since my brilliance had them pegged as division winners as far back as Spring, but that's me--smart in baseball, though dumb in Rotisserie. The extremeness of their two streaks, good and bad, is simply an anomaly of the randomness of results over a 162-game schedule. I guess it's the equivalent of sitting at a blackjack table, getting dealt 15s and 16s for a spate, then recovering with a terrific round of 20s and 21s. I've certainly seen dealers do that, at least! Meanwhile the Dodgers, thanks to a solid pitching core of Brad Penny, Derek Lowe and the rejuvenated Greg Maddux--free from Cubbieland so he can conceivably get into a World Series--should have enough to prevail over the other mediocrities in their sector. And thanks to a weak league, with the Cardinals staggering, and the Mets' pitching falling apart from injuries, the Dodgers have as good a shot as anyone of making Greg's October a very profitable one.

Of course they'd still have to face the American League champion, as well as the away-field disadvantage thanks to the All-Star Game nigth-inning collapse by Trevor Hoffman. And suddenly, to my increasing pleasure, it looks like the Yankees may be a World Series participant again. Putting aside the ultimate Baseball Fantasy of another Yankee/Dodger series, the Bombers have suddenly turned into an extremely good team, though their quality has certainly been magnified by the just-completed amazing five-game sweep of the Red Sox in Boston. This also had historians digging up arcane records, to discover that the Sox hadn't been swept in five games by anyone since 1954. That's fifty-two years, a lot of games.

The satisfactions of Yankee fans from this second Boston Massacre--as unexpected as the first, in that glorious baseball year of 1978--are mitigated by the fact that this is still August, no division has been clinched, the Sox have another go at the Yanks in September, and no freakish regular-season dominance can ever erase the ignominy of the Yankee collapse against Boston in the 2004 ALCS. I bet a lot of demoralized Boston fans have cued up their videotapes of those games as some kind of palliative after this awful performance by their team. They're welcome to that experience, though it can't be very satisfying to watch Johnny Damon demolish the Yanks the pennant-clinching game, only to realize that he absolutely ate up Red Sox pitching while wearing pinstripes this past weekend.

The Yanks are not as good as their juggernaut appeared, nor the Sox as bad, though the weaknesses of Boston's team are apparent now. Questionable starting pitching beyond Schilling, shaky long relief, and a less-than-perfect Jonathan Papelbon, who blew a save with a fluke last-gasp hit by Jeter in last night's marathon. They did not replace their injured players, especially Jason Varitek, with proficient substitutes, as the Yanks did by slotting in Bobby Abreu to make everyone forget Sheffield. Boston is now seven games behind the Yanks in the lost column so it would take practically a reversal of the 1978 season for them to vault back into contention, at least for the divisional title. They can sneak into the playoffs if the three AL Central teams, Detroit, Chicago and Minnesota, beat themselves up in a cannibalistic frenzy and drop two of their numbber farther down into the loss column to award the Wild Card to Boston. But Boston has to play well to earn it, and they seem very tired now. Also, Manny is limping, which is bad for everyone--even my Roto team, who needs a David Ortiz to drive in runs and not get walked every other at bat.

As for the Yankees, my urge to overpraise them must be muted a bit by what happened to the Mets after I composed a paean to them. There are a lot of players who have contributed mightily to their surge, including MVP candidate Jeter; a very pesky and adept Johnny Damon; the Rod Carew-in-the-making Robinson Cano (he even shares his initials); and Jason No-Steroids-Anymore-We-Don't-Think Giambi, who may be having his best power year ever. And of course Mariano Rivera, Scott proctor's reliable set-up work, and the emergence of workhorse Chin-Mien Wang.

Then there's Melky Cabrera, Matsui's replacement, whose speed and batting average make up for much of what was lost with Godzilla's broken wrist, and who also has a terrific arm--something the Yankee outfield has needed. But I certainly hope that if the team does continue its winning ways at least into the play-offs, one man will be recognized above all, and that's Brian Cashman, the General Manager, who pulled magic out of his hat in attaining Bobby Abreu--who has been totally brilliant--and Cory Lidle, who shut out the Red Sox today for six innings--for the price of some disposable minor leaguers.

Okay, it'll raise the absurd payroll even higher, so Yankee fans will pay 10% more next year for their tickets. I'll just stay in L.A. and watch them in High Definition on my set. A much better view, anyway.

Pop Goes the Culture

I was going to dedicate my now weekly blog to a consideration of the final quarter of the Major League Baseball schedule, but I was distracted for part of this day by a few items of such utter insignificance that they made my Fantasy League quagmire seem of historic importance. It's lovely, actually, to wallow for a while in the utterly inane as a temporary refuge from the several paths to Armageddon that have been laid out in front of me this year.

Anyhoo, the first item that struck me in the newspapaer was that a suspect had actually been located in the murder of Jon-Benet Ramsey, the little dress-up human slain a decade ago and largely forgotten until a renewed reminder came in the final scenes of "Little Miss Sunshine," in which similarly preeening toddlers get to strut their stuff in an erzatz junior beauty contest at a Costa Mesa motel. Gee willikers, it turns out that Jon-Benet was not accidentally offed by her parents--which we all cruelly assumed--but by a teacher who looks like a poster child for sex offenders everywhere. That's cold comfort for her Dad, and colder for her Mom, who's dead too. But it does take useful copy space away from those depressing accounts of Middle East warfare and illusory truces and terrorist investigations. What next? Will they find Nicole Simpson's real killer? Oh, oh yeah, I forgot...

Then there was a bizarre press release that Johnny Depp has signed on to star as "Sweeney Todd," in a cinema version of Sondheim's Grand Guignol opera/musical. The director is slated to be Depp's regular collaborator, Tim Burton. Now Burton has a flair for style but he has never taken on as curious a project as this one, whose virtues--like with most of Sondheim's works--are clearly stagebound. I'm still trying to digest this. Depp can probably sing all right, but his register seems too high for the baritone Sweeney Todd, and his facial contours, however mangled they could have been for the Pirate movie, are too delicate. I applaud him for attempting so different a role, but I can't imagine this as a success. I'm also concerned about whom Burton will cast as Mrs. Lovett, his consort in murder/cannibalism. Jennifer Lopez? Keira Knightley? Oy vey.

It's conceivable that the story itself, gory and gothic, could make an interesting period piece--but its operatic elements will likely undo its horror and lay flat on the screen, as in the "Phantom of the Opera" white elephant. This is a shame, because Sondheim's score is magnificent and can't possibly be serviced properly on film. It is an effort doomed to failure, like another Sondheim musical, "A Little Night Music," which was faithful to the stage play but terribly stodgy and not one of Elizabeth Taylor's finer moments. Burton will certainly cut a lot of the musical numbers (apostasy!), as was done in the semi-successful version of Sondheim's "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum," but the score was not the glory of that romp. A more interesting project would be to film "Follies," whose musical numbers are largely phantasmagorical anyway, like the successfully rendered score of "Chicago."

Finally there was a question greeting me on the Welcome screen when I logged onto AOL this morning: "Who Is the Most Overrated Celebrity Ever?" Immediately I replied to my screen, "It's gotta be Paris Hilton," and after clicking on the link I discovered that I was in sync with the rest of the AOL population. That fact alone could unnerve me, but, hey, Paris Hilton? That was easy. Here's a bimbo who has nothing better to do with her money than try to find a fiance with the same first name. She makes Tori Spelling seem like Marie Curie. And where would this ditz be without all her money? Why, they ought to make a TV show about that. Oh--oh yeah, I forgot.

Bad Breath

The earthshaking news that a humongous terrorist plot to down ten or more jetliners over the Atlantic was foiled is certainly welcome, especially to those two thousand persons who, unknowingly, have had their life extended. It plays like the epilogue to an episode of "24" or "Sleeper Cell," two excellent counter-terrorist series whose operatives actually succeed. To awaken to the news that this plot was aborted does not counterweigh the horrors of receiving the 9/11 reports, nor is it "feel-good"; it is just a different wake-up call.

The ramifications of the bomb-with-liquids plot have yet to fully flower. Certainly a lot of credit must go to Scotland Yard, and to the operatives, Muslim and others, who helped uncover the scheme. After the exposure of incipient and unwieldy plots by amateur terrorists like that silly cell in Florida, it is sobering and encouraging to see that real agents are achieving real ends, and that all the money being spent on anti-terrorism is not a huge waste, like the billions being burned up pointlessly in Iraq.

Of course this was a success of a different nation, not our local Feds, though for sure the Republicans will try to spin this as another Mission Accomplished for Bush, who was otherwise occupied clearing brush in his Texas ranch. Politically this will inevitably be a gain for the Republicans, though, who will play the Reality of Terror card--and the failure of any post 9-11 terror attacks in America--as further proof that they are more capable of defending our nation.

This would have worked for them if this were October, but I believe that in the three months between now and the midterm election much of the fear will have died down, replaced not by dread of terrorists but of the long lines at the airports. We are all only remotely affected by the worldwide terror threat, but everyone who flies now has to contend with the draconian rules about carry-on items that have emerged from a cautious, understandable, but somewhat ludicrous overreaction to this particular plot. My personal selfish reaction had to do with toiletries. Suddenly we are not allowed to take anything in liquid or gel form onto a plane in our carry-on bags.

This means now shaving cream, no sunscreen and--worst of all--no toothpaste. So unless one is willing to abide the long lines at the baggage check-in, and risk the possibility of lost luggage in an overworked baggage system, one will be forced to purchase those little necessities at the destination point, or live with bad breath.

This will be a boon, of course, to those companies who produce minitubes of toothpaste and shaving gel and sunscreen. It could even start a mini-Industry. But at the same time those Duty-free shops who want you to purchase their wines are in deep shit. They'd better start making way for personal hygiene items pronto.

After a certain point the absurdity of the universal bans, especially for prescription drugs (how do pills apply, anyway?), will create a resentment and the rules will be relaxed. In an odd way one can say the terrorists have succeeded, if not in destroying life than in making the lives of all Americans, as well as all other air travelers, that much more miserable. The Authorities do need to cover their asses on this one, at least as long as some of the plotters are still at large and could be trying to mix their acetone Molotov cocktails. But how far will the absurdity go, when every possible vector for explosives gets exposed. Right now we have no more liquids, no more laptops--and why do they allow cell phones, which can be used to ignite explosives, as on the London buses? But what if someone finds a way to secrete nitro on, say, a belt? Will we get to the point when people will not be allowed to wear clothing on a plane. Hey wait--that could be fun.

On the other hand I won't miss watching so many people try to force so many overstuffed carry-ons into the overhead bins. And I do get a kick from standing by baggage carousels; they are intrinsically comic to me. I will just have to spend more time there than ever. Aty least I don;t have to face the profound and bewildering disappointment of the assigned "martyrs" who were supposed to go down with the airships. Now they have neither virgins, holiness, or freedom. But perhaps the British will be kind, and send them to Guantanamo.

Children Vote

A recent series in the Los Angeles Times has surveyed a cross-section of "young people" to determine where their interests truly lie among the myriad choices of the entertainment field. Some findings were obvious, and few less so. For instance, it was revealed that most "young people" (which I assume comprises those from 10 to 24) do not get their news mostly from Jon Stewart. and "The Daily Show." I'm not sure if this is comforting or not; I'm surprised they get any news at all, and if they do, I doubt it ever sinks in. Even I ignore the news the best I can nowadays, in a concerted effort to stay sane.

Another finding, classified as unsurprising, is that most young people are just as happy to view a motion picture at home as in a movie theater. One reason is that movie theaters are too expensive. Well, strike a blow for teen-age temperance. Theaters are too expensive. Assume two tickets, parking, the horrible overpriced movie food and the gas to get there and you're down $50. No wonder America's youth is just as happy to view a film on a pirated DVD or downloaded from the web in the comforts of home, where they can get drunk and smoke pot and talk on their cells simultaneously without annoying oldsters complaining.

More intriguing was the discovery that with the plethora of amusement outlets available to them now, from films to TV to Youtube and MySpace and text messaging marathons and of course all those Grand Theft Auto video game extravaganzas, most teens express general boredom with their choices. I guess that "boredom" is hormonally linked to early adulthood, like acne and horniness. I could chasten the entire generation with the paucity of choices I had as a teen, but boy, that would be pointless; I'd end up impersonating the hapless father in the all-knowing "Zits" comic strip.

The thing is, what kids think in this area is of vast import to the Entertainment industry and its ancillary outlets that are so vital to our economy. So as asinine as their preferences seem to be, stockholders in Disney have to be very glad that these kids are willing to view "Pirates of the Caribbean" four or five times, though multiple screenings may just be necessary to help decipher the plot. The young audience is the fuel that runs Hollywood, allowing the studios to produce the Oscar-bait films for the last two months of the year. This will remain constant whether kids attend the cineplexes or sit at their computer consoles.

It would be easy, as well as futile, to bemoan the fact that Hollywood targets so much of its product to this demographic. In the heat of the summer sun, in fact, I find my resistance melting, and I'm willing to suspend my adult elitism for a taste of less challenging fast-food cinema. So I've gone to see "Pirates," and "Superman" (neither very successful nor nourishing, but better than popcorn). I even sojourned down to the Chinese Theater complex to view "Monster House," a hi-tech animated film in 3D. And I enjoyed it. (The 3D technique, now requiring some unobtrusive sunglasses to place over one's own, is more effective and less garish than ever). When another contemporary asked me skeptically why I so indulged I just shrugged and said, "I am my own parent and this one was for the kid."

It's not just the kiddies, then, it's the kiddies in aging skin. Hollywood, is after all, a playground of fantasies, and knowing how to market them is what that makes millionaires in the movie business jungle.

A Drunken Mind

Will Mel Gibson ever eat lunch in this town again? Well maybe, though if I were him, I wouldn't stop by Canter's. By now that restaurant must have named some sandwich after him. Perhaps it's the Ham on Riot, or maybe the Roast Beef au Jus, hold the Jews.

With all that is going on in the world of course the buzz is about Mel's latest social infraction, the least of which probably was his stupid anti-semitic tirade. On a certain level that was not really as serious as the drunken driving/resisting arrest/collusion with ther Malibu police force. As for his personal opinions, lamentable as they may be, he has a right to be a bigot and a hypocrite. Just as we all have a right to boycott his movies and call him the asshole that he is.

Although the Anti-Defamation League has ostensibly accepted his contrition, there are no mea culpas that he can utter that can convince me that he is not the virulent anti-Semite that his father is. I firmly believe the adage that a drunken mind speaks a sober heart. I've found that a person's true character, the one hiding behind the socialization of the super ego, does usually emerge in the drunken state. He did not utter a string of anti-Semitic epithets, including Big Lie material about "Jews starting all wars" that would have pleased Joseph Goebbels, in his state of inebriation, unless they were lurking there ready to explode.

For the record, I did not pay to go see "The Passion of the Christ," acknowledging the warnings of offensive material, but when I finally watched it on TV, my impression was that the Romans came off a lot worse than the Jews. I did not consider it an anti-Semitic movie despite the dangers inherent in repeating the passion play and stirring up the negative passions of the Faithful. It was very personal moviemaking, brutal and sincere and rather interesting. This latest incident, though, exposes the artist outside of the art, rather like Woody Allen's amoral meanderings, which contradicted the wit and humanism of his oeuvre.

The issue of Gibson's outlandish invective is especially sensitive nowadays, when the Israelis are continuing to devastate Lebanon in what has become a brutal and heavy-handed attempt to squash Hezbollah. As defensible as their initials actions are, the consequences and collateral damage to the Lebanese population will likely do more to stir more hatred against the Israelis. I believe that it was intentional provocation by Hezbollah, through their Iranian sponsors, that suckered Israel into perpetrating this onslaught. Of course Hezbollah camps in the middle of civilian areas just so the kind of tragedy that befell Qana would raise the ire of the world against Israel (and by extension, the Jews).

A very broad, though obvious historical connection, links the Gibson incident to the Lebanese incursion. If it weren't for instititutional anti-Semitism of the kind that Gibson was and is party to, European Jewry would not have been destroyed, leading to the formation of Israel and the bunker mentalilty under which that state has had to exist. It's unbelievable, though predictably human, how much agony and horror has emerged from that little religious schism between Old Jews and New Ones.

And I choose not to see Mr. Gibson's upcoming "Apocalypoto," about the decline of the Mayan civilization (probably caused by some Jewish fur traders or something). Although I am a little sorry his projected Holocaust series has been shelved by Disney and ABC. But I guess his father's happy.