Hey all,
For those of you who don't know, I work for a news channel called OMNI. I recently worked on a story about a group of students at the U of A who were offended by a particular line in the convocation ceremony: The line of offense has to do with using degrees for "the glory of God and the honour of your country." The group is the U of A Athiests and Agnostics Society.
It's causing quite a stir (http://www.canada.com/edmontonjournal/news/story.html?id=7fe9a730-a295-4cb5-b9f1-8b77251f5d02).
It really made me think about how immersed we are in the language of religion. I mean, when my mom picked a school for me, the options were either Catholic or Protestant. It doesn't matter that I'm not religious. It doesn't matter that I've been to church once in my life outside of weddings and funerals, or that when I went, I thought it was hollow and ritualistic. I'm still choosing between two, fairly similar Christian religions. Even the word "atheist" means without theistic belief. I'm not trying to be a contrarian; it just doesn't... feel right to me.
I don't disbelieve in a higher power necessarily... I just don't understand how people can claim to know the absolute truth about said higher power.
I guess most of all, I just don't get why I'm the alternative for not believing in a talking snake in a tree.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Pop Culture
For the longest time, I was trying to think of what I would write a book on if I had the chance. This was at a point where I considered the whole "writing" thing to have been a relative mistake and I needed to do something I cared about to reconnect me to the concept of wanting to be a professional writer. As I thought and thought, the only idea I could come up with is '90s Pop Culture(If you haven't noticed, I've made a stylistic decision to capitalize Pop Culture. That, in and of itself, is something you should think about a great deal)--specifically, '90s pop music.
Why the '90s? Why pop music? Well, two things: The first of which is that I recently realized that I remember more about some shitty song by the band VIP than I do most of (what I should probably consider) my best time with (who I should probably consider) my best friends. In a weird way, I care more about pop music than I do my own life.
Another thing I realized about the 1990s is that, in a very real way, it changed everything. Somehow, music seems noticeably less authentic. Some would blame that on me getting older and being more tainted because of it; I blame it, indirectly, on Milli Vanilli (and, of course, Milli Vanilli would undoubtedly blame it on some weather phenomenon). I think it speaks volumes that Milli Vanilli won the Best New Artist award in 1990.
This will be the first in a series of posts about '90s pop music and, if I feel like it, Pop Culture in general.
Why the '90s? Why pop music? Well, two things: The first of which is that I recently realized that I remember more about some shitty song by the band VIP than I do most of (what I should probably consider) my best time with (who I should probably consider) my best friends. In a weird way, I care more about pop music than I do my own life.
Another thing I realized about the 1990s is that, in a very real way, it changed everything. Somehow, music seems noticeably less authentic. Some would blame that on me getting older and being more tainted because of it; I blame it, indirectly, on Milli Vanilli (and, of course, Milli Vanilli would undoubtedly blame it on some weather phenomenon). I think it speaks volumes that Milli Vanilli won the Best New Artist award in 1990.
This will be the first in a series of posts about '90s pop music and, if I feel like it, Pop Culture in general.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Some photos
My entire readership (of 2) has requested that I add more photography to this blog. So, by (not very) popular demand, here are a couple more shots from SE Asia. The first is of some kids at a hill tribe in Laos. All of the adults would leave to go work the rice fields. They would be gone literally the entire day and the kids would entertain themselves. Judging by their activity level when we were there(which you can see in the picture), they weren't horribly successful. I found it funny that the kids had complete freedom and they chose to sit on their front porch and stare at strangers.
The second is from a temple in Lopburi, Thailand, a city that was literally overrun by monkeys. There were monkeys everywhere--on signs, on cars and walking on power lines. It seemed like the majority of the monkeys stuck to this Buddhist temple. Some of them were quite aggressive towards humans; others were violent with other monkeys. Every November, the monks have a big festival where they provide the monkeys with a big feast. We didn't see the festival, but it's nice to know that somewhere in the world, people are living in relative harmony with animals--even tragically flawed ones.
I don't know that I'd ever become Buddhist, but I certainly appreciate the Buddhist respect for all living things. It seems like most people just see animals as either tools or obstacles.
Friday, October 17, 2008
M. Night SHAM-a-lan
I've come to really dislike the works of M. Night Shyamalan. And it isn't just because of his problems as a screenwriter (of which, he has a lot); it's because his work is disingenuous.
Almost all of his movies have a central theme of every person having an inherent worth (except critics, apparently) and everything happening for a reason (the obvious examples are Lady in the Water and Signs, but I could make arguments for The Sixth Sense (the kid is the only one who can make Bruce Willis realize he's dead; Bruce Willis is the only one who can help the kid), Unbreakable and The Happening).
The contradiction is that he doesn't value other people. Apparently the only person who can direct, produce, act in and write movies is, big surprise, M. Night Shyamalan. It doesn't matter that he doesn't know how people actually talk, or how to make a movie that isn't wholly dependent on some arbitrary twist; what matters is that it's his movie.
One character in the waste of time that was Ldy in the Water was a writer whose story was going to change the world. The actor? M. Night Shyamalan. He actually made himself the character whose story would change the world. I read something a while ago (which I can't find now) about how after the Sixth Sense, he wouldn't let anybody from the studio comment on his movies. He's essentially been moving from studio to studio until recently, when he started his own production company.
That's why his movies fall flat--because there is no truth to them. He does not feel the stories and, in turn, neither do you.
Almost all of his movies have a central theme of every person having an inherent worth (except critics, apparently) and everything happening for a reason (the obvious examples are Lady in the Water and Signs, but I could make arguments for The Sixth Sense (the kid is the only one who can make Bruce Willis realize he's dead; Bruce Willis is the only one who can help the kid), Unbreakable and The Happening).
The contradiction is that he doesn't value other people. Apparently the only person who can direct, produce, act in and write movies is, big surprise, M. Night Shyamalan. It doesn't matter that he doesn't know how people actually talk, or how to make a movie that isn't wholly dependent on some arbitrary twist; what matters is that it's his movie.
One character in the waste of time that was Ldy in the Water was a writer whose story was going to change the world. The actor? M. Night Shyamalan. He actually made himself the character whose story would change the world. I read something a while ago (which I can't find now) about how after the Sixth Sense, he wouldn't let anybody from the studio comment on his movies. He's essentially been moving from studio to studio until recently, when he started his own production company.
That's why his movies fall flat--because there is no truth to them. He does not feel the stories and, in turn, neither do you.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Art IS Exclusionary (but not in the way you think)
Hey all,
I'd like to preface this by saying that I haven't given up on The Daily Jason by any means; my internet has been causing me problems. I would've like to have prefaced that by professing my love for the word "preface," but I didn't, so here we are.
Ahem. The reason for this post is Prime Minister Stephen Harper--specifically something he said. Last week at a press conference, he made a comment about how "ordinary working people" essentially don't care about the arts (what he actually said was that they don't feel sympathy for artists, but the distinction is moot). What he was trying to connect, without saying it, is that the average person doesn't care about art because of the exclusivity of the arts community. I've heard this argument a lot and think it's utter bullshit. I find more people are exclusive towards the arts (like Harper is being) than the arts are exclusive to them.
Now I would argue that, for all intents and purposes, I am an "ordinary working person." I guess the fact that I went to college excludes me from actually being "ordinary" in Alberta, because as of 1999, only 50% of Albertans between 18 and 20 went into post-secondary* (the lowest in Canada) and significantly less graduated (and I would guess those numbers have dropped, given our current economy). But I was born and raised in Alberta and I know the people Mr. Harper would call "ordinary." Even more, I know why these people think art is exclusionary.
These people don't have an interest in the arts. They don't go to independent movies, art galleries or local theatre productions because they undoubtedly assume one of the following:
a) They won't like it
b) They won't get it
c) They will feel excluded because they don't know anything about it
In the first two cases, it seems pretty obvious to me that the "ordinary person" is the one being exclusionary--he/she not willing to try something different because of perceived boredom. In case two, you could probably argue for an intellectual exclusivity, and I will try to argue that in my blanket assessment of case three.
When I was writing my article on vegetarianism for the journal, Meatless in a Sea of Cattle, I interviewed the organizer of the Vegetarian Meetup group. She gave a quotation that I loved about a review of a vegetarian restaurant. “The author basically described the other patrons as overly pious and pretentious,” she says.
“I’m pretty sure the other diners didn’t get up to smugly declare to her that they, as vegetarians, were doing ‘the right thing.’ It’s all perception, I guess.”
I find most often when people talk about exclusion, it's almost invariably the perception of exclusion that they're actually talking about. Outside of school, I find most people are pretty accepting. And in terms of intellectual discourse, almost 100% of the time, people are too focused on what they are saying to really pay any attention to whatever stupid thing you might be saying. In other words, when people leave a social situation, they almost invariably replay their own part of the conversation. There are some art snobs out there, but unless you go talk to them, they probably have their snob friends to talk to. Which brings me to my next point: people tend not to talk to strangers.
How often is it that you're walking out of a movie (even an independent movie) and a complete stranger asks you what you thought? Or someone walks up to you and asks you what you think of a piece of art? I would wager that this is a fantastically rare occurrence, especially if you're with someone. If you actually wanted to see the art gallery/independent movie/play without talking to a single person, you could do it easily. That's why I say people exclude the arts; the arts don't exclude people.
Now you may notice a lot of my discussion revolves around hypotheticals. And that's because I rarely participate in the local arts scene. So what's the difference between me and the aforementioned "ordinary working person?" The difference I am aware that it is my exclusivity--not that of the arts scene--that keeps me away.
And I acknowledge that funding for the arts is important, because all art comes from amateur arts. Those junior musicians who get funding from the Alberta Foundation for the Arts will be one of my favourite bands some day; that writer who gets funding will write my favourite book. Without arts funding, those musicians would never be able to afford to be musicians for more than a couple of years. That writer would have sold his typewriter and gotten a job on the rigs.
I support the arts--at least theoretically. And I definitely support arts funding.
*http://www.statcan.ca/Daily/English/020123/d020123a.html
I'd like to preface this by saying that I haven't given up on The Daily Jason by any means; my internet has been causing me problems. I would've like to have prefaced that by professing my love for the word "preface," but I didn't, so here we are.
Ahem. The reason for this post is Prime Minister Stephen Harper--specifically something he said. Last week at a press conference, he made a comment about how "ordinary working people" essentially don't care about the arts (what he actually said was that they don't feel sympathy for artists, but the distinction is moot). What he was trying to connect, without saying it, is that the average person doesn't care about art because of the exclusivity of the arts community. I've heard this argument a lot and think it's utter bullshit. I find more people are exclusive towards the arts (like Harper is being) than the arts are exclusive to them.
Now I would argue that, for all intents and purposes, I am an "ordinary working person." I guess the fact that I went to college excludes me from actually being "ordinary" in Alberta, because as of 1999, only 50% of Albertans between 18 and 20 went into post-secondary* (the lowest in Canada) and significantly less graduated (and I would guess those numbers have dropped, given our current economy). But I was born and raised in Alberta and I know the people Mr. Harper would call "ordinary." Even more, I know why these people think art is exclusionary.
These people don't have an interest in the arts. They don't go to independent movies, art galleries or local theatre productions because they undoubtedly assume one of the following:
a) They won't like it
b) They won't get it
c) They will feel excluded because they don't know anything about it
In the first two cases, it seems pretty obvious to me that the "ordinary person" is the one being exclusionary--he/she not willing to try something different because of perceived boredom. In case two, you could probably argue for an intellectual exclusivity, and I will try to argue that in my blanket assessment of case three.
When I was writing my article on vegetarianism for the journal, Meatless in a Sea of Cattle, I interviewed the organizer of the Vegetarian Meetup group. She gave a quotation that I loved about a review of a vegetarian restaurant. “The author basically described the other patrons as overly pious and pretentious,” she says.
“I’m pretty sure the other diners didn’t get up to smugly declare to her that they, as vegetarians, were doing ‘the right thing.’ It’s all perception, I guess.”
I find most often when people talk about exclusion, it's almost invariably the perception of exclusion that they're actually talking about. Outside of school, I find most people are pretty accepting. And in terms of intellectual discourse, almost 100% of the time, people are too focused on what they are saying to really pay any attention to whatever stupid thing you might be saying. In other words, when people leave a social situation, they almost invariably replay their own part of the conversation. There are some art snobs out there, but unless you go talk to them, they probably have their snob friends to talk to. Which brings me to my next point: people tend not to talk to strangers.
How often is it that you're walking out of a movie (even an independent movie) and a complete stranger asks you what you thought? Or someone walks up to you and asks you what you think of a piece of art? I would wager that this is a fantastically rare occurrence, especially if you're with someone. If you actually wanted to see the art gallery/independent movie/play without talking to a single person, you could do it easily. That's why I say people exclude the arts; the arts don't exclude people.
Now you may notice a lot of my discussion revolves around hypotheticals. And that's because I rarely participate in the local arts scene. So what's the difference between me and the aforementioned "ordinary working person?" The difference I am aware that it is my exclusivity--not that of the arts scene--that keeps me away.
And I acknowledge that funding for the arts is important, because all art comes from amateur arts. Those junior musicians who get funding from the Alberta Foundation for the Arts will be one of my favourite bands some day; that writer who gets funding will write my favourite book. Without arts funding, those musicians would never be able to afford to be musicians for more than a couple of years. That writer would have sold his typewriter and gotten a job on the rigs.
I support the arts--at least theoretically. And I definitely support arts funding.
*http://www.statcan.ca/Daily/English/020123/d020123a.html
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