Not Read

There's a monologue at the end of Ratatouille about the relevance of criticism. I'm tempted to go out right now just to hear Peter O'Toole (Phantoms) say it again. But instead, I'll cross my fingers that IMDB got it right:

"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so."

Now, you don't need to have read Ayn Rand (I haven't) or seen The Incredibles (eh...) to suspect that the monologue goes on to suggest that though talent can arise from the most unexpected places, it does not imply that everyone is special. Indeed, the film is very clear in its message that those who aren't talented should submit to the whims of their obvious superiors. The story itself could be seen as a critique of its CGI competitors, Disney, and even other Pixar productions. In the end, the critic is less redeemed than vindicated: "Dear Constant Reader, I'm right again about something that's awesome."

I thoroughly agree with that moral. Some people know their field better than you. But having listened to way too many angry video game podcasts, read too many ignorant on purpose movie and television reviews, and just logged on to any site on the Internet, I think the excerpt above is a more realistic point. Whether it's Titantic or the Lord of the Rings movies, Friends or Lost, 50 Cent or MC Frontalot, they're worth more to the people who live for them than to those whose hate knows no limit.

It takes only a week for new friends or co-workers to label me the guy who hates everything. I'd counter that I'm a guy who likes certain things (turn-based RPGs, depressing/ironic police procedurals, fast-paced German board games, epic mystery) a lot. I just get vengeful when people talk shit about them, and am likely to react with malevolent diatribes on their personal taste. For example, I could've let Tom Shales off for praising Sex in the City if he wasn't such a whiny bitch about Carnivale.

I'm pretty sure it's not what he meant, but maybe Joe Rogan was on to something in his pre-Carlos Mencia "no wants to be a critic when they grow up" rants. Critics, whether professoinal or on message boards, can be bitter, nasty, and short. But not necessarily because they thrive on hate. They just wish they were able to like more.

Which is a long way of saying I'm not going to tell you what book I stopped reading after I reached this sentence:

"Charlene was the kind of girl you might see on a cereal box."

Alessandra's Fishbob

Rather than lay down yet another argument for why Stanley's hatred of smart television is a terrible thing, I am just going to assume you allready agree, or at least are willing to pretend that you do for the rest of your life. This allows me the space I need to indulge in the blogging tradition of hammering at a piece of misinformation until it bleeds.

In this case, I'd like to focus on the opening statement that forms the crux of Stanley's attack.

Anyone who thinks it’s a good sign that “Lost” is back has not spent enough time at the Web site of James Randi, a skeptical scholar of the pseudoscientific and the supernatural.

A fan recently posed this question online at randi.org: “Is a fascination and increased belief in the supernatural a sign of social decline?”

The answer came as categorically as the words under the Magic 8-Ball: “Yes. Absolutely.” [NYT excerpt by Alessandra Stanley]

The link Stanley provided leads to Randi's Website, but not to the forum she is refering to. Luckily, the site has a search function that leads to the only forum post that matches up with the quotes provided.

Stanley had to wait for twelve responses for her categorical answer, but once given, it seems pretty clear. Fishbob hates superstition almost as much as he hates misplaced apostrophes. You might know Fishbob better as James Randi himself. In all likelihood you'd be wrong about that, but Stanley's article certainly implies that Fishbob at least speaks with the voice of Randi. It's entirely possible she knows something about him I don't.

Of course, Fishbob wasn't talking about the third season of Lost. For one thing, this recent conversation took place in March of 2006. Also, it's not in the "Entertainment" thread, where one can find a 16 page thread devoted to Lost. Stanley's quote is located is in the Politics, Current Events, and Social Issues subsection of "General Academics." Fishbob might hate it when people are fascinated with supposedly supernatural events in the real world, but he's not saying much about television.

I wonder why this particular quote was even chosen. There has to be better quotes to steal out there, and I'd imagine they'd be easier to find than a year old forum post. How did she even know this existed? Perhaps a year ago, she was investigating what sort of person would bother asking what James Randi fans thought about the supernatural, and the lines stuck with her. I'd honestly like to know.

Still, it makes for a nice misleading quote for the insufficiently skeptical. I'm sure that's the sort of thing Randi's all about, when he isn't unbending spoons with the power of his mighty beard.

Of course, it's possible there really is a Q & A with a LOST-hating Real James Randi on the site, and I'm just unable to find it. This is why reporters are supposed to attribute their quotes. This prevents people like me from asking, "Your magic eight ball of truth is some guy called Fishbob?!" Instead, I'd be forced to ask why she claims to hate magic so much, but didn't even mention Jack Bauer and his magical teleporting car.

The NYT Can FOATALWOASP

I wanted to write about Lost last night, but I didn't get around to seeing the first new episode of its 16-week uninterrupted run until 2 AM. And when I went on-line to read and blog about it, I got mad. But I didn't want to write a post titled "The New York Times Can Do Some Stuff And Expire." So I took a day to put things into perspective.

The New York Times can Take A Long Walk Off A Short Pier.

The Hater, my ideological counterpart at The Onion AV Club and pop-intellectual hottie, first brought this item to my attention. You can read the full New York Times review she eviscerates on-line. The majority of NYT content is available on the web for free, which is all any self-respecting genre fan should pay to read it from here on out, unless they actually happen to be anti-abortion activists.

(If you skipped both of those links because this started out about Lost and you either haven't seen it or dislike the show for some reason which is not insane, I urge you to reconsider. The NYT author was too bored with the show to even get the details right, so she spent most of her time ranting about Heroes, Battlestar Galactica, supernatural-lite shows like Medium and The Ghost Whisperer, and comics, fantasy, and sci-fi in general. And for you hardcore fans, I'm sure she would have mentioned Firefly, Farscape, or Buffy if she even knew what they were. You know, if they were an "in" elitist thing to rip on.)

I've waged an active campaign against anti-nerd bias in print media for the last few years. As World of Warcraft, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, videogames, and nerdiest of all, teh Interweb, are embraced worldwide, it rankles me when mainstream outlets pay writers who fall back on outdated stereotypes:

"Lost” is at heart a science-fiction thriller, while “Heroes” is more of a comic book, but both genres have a similar appeal: they provide an alternative society for those who don’t fit comfortably into their own. (That is to say, smart, socially awkward adults and all 12-year-old boys.) [NYT excerpt by Alessandra Stanley]

Wait. Television shows with superheroes, epic mysteries, real-world political analogues that feature evil robots, and supernatural procedurals are so popular that you can write about them for a national newspaper, but they are only of interest to pre-teen boys and nerdy adults? Who's really wishing for an alternative society here? For that matter, if a TV show appeals to smart adults, then it has to be smart, too, right?

The NYT can FOATALWOASP. If I want to read uninformed opinions about high-quality genre fiction that requires you to turn your brain on, I can get on the Internet. No one should be paid to be this stupid.

(Edit: I have a lot to say on the subject of ignorant genre criticism, perhaps too much for this post. This article has undergone several edits, and more are anticipated. I refuse, however, to go back and italicize "New York Times.")

The Sopranos Is The Closest Thing To Your Creative Writing Textbook on Television

Mr. Bile brought up Carnivale, and I wanted to add a few thoughts on the subject. Unlike Joe Rogan, I love critics, and yes, I even wanted to be one when I grew up. The proliferation of opinions on the Internet and my growing frustration with newspaper columnists eventually made the whole proposition seem irrelevant, but I digress. I love reading criticism, and as a whole I think television critics have a better perspective on their medium than their film counterparts. I have my pet peeves though, and one of my least favorite critical memes is "The Wire is the closest thing to a novel you'll see on television."

Setting aside the question of whether or not this is a good thing (um...sure?), it's a comparison that unfairly disparages the rest of what's out there as not being good enough to watch. It's akin to what writers who finally got on the Battlestar do when they lament trying to convince their elitist friends to join them. It says, "Television is beneath me, but I'm watching this, so it must actually be good!"

It also rankles me because I'm jealous. Where was the love for Carnivale? Oh, right. The same critics probably don't read those types of novels, either. Unless, you know, it's something like Lisey's Story.

Carnivale was The Stand without the excess, set during the Depression. The original season kept a slow-burning pace, but there was a lot going on for viewers who paid close attention. (Nothing in common with The Wire here. Move along, folks!) The characters were slowly revealed through their actions--we didn't even learn many of their names until late in the first run--and displayed a consistency in personality that Ronald Moore took with him when he went on to remake Battlestar Galactica. (Nope! Not like a novel!) And unlike a more traditionally structured TV show that builds hooks around commercial breaks and cliffhangers, Carnivale revelled in its mystery by presenting baffling images that slowly took on more meaning as the season progressed.

Instant gratification was not the point. Telling the story straight-forward, smacking viewers on the head with the Hammer of Mythos Exposition, and forcing the characters to do what they had to to get to skip to the end would have drained the series of everything that made it haunting.

Which, thanks the untimely departure of Mr. Moore, pressure from HBO for better ratings, and no assistance from television critics, lead to the abysmal second season. I believe Matt Roush summed it up the same way as he did the subpar Farscape mini-series: "Hey, at least you got a conclusion."