Fall Down and Be Counted

Vince Vaughn's performance in Swingers is one of the most impressive comedic performances ever. And while people often mention how funny his character Trent is (and it is well written), it is never ranked among the great comedic performances. I think this is because Vaughn's character is confident. A winner.

Instead, when opinion makers (who have a knack for not getting comedy) make their lists of the greatest comedic performances of all time, they typically praise performances that are either nerdy/wimpy, self-deprecating, hapless, or dumb. They dote on the lovable losers and ignore the cool guys.

Some of the performances they celebrate:

Nerdy/wimpy like Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate, nerdy, wimpy, and self-deprecating like Jack Lemmon in The Apartment or Woody Allen in, well, every movie he has ever been in. They also celebrate hapless, like Chaplin as The Tramp and dumb, like Belushi in Animal House.

Why is this? Let's first think about the term comic relief. The second class nature afforded to comedic characters is evident in the term itself. He is a relief from anything substantive or real. He isn't fully realized. He is the clown intermission while we wait for the more important events to resume.

And to provide comic relief to the majority of viewers, comic relief characters must be something they can laugh AT. And because the majority of folks are nerdy, wimpy, and dumb, comic relief characters must be hyper-nerdy, hyper-wimpy, and hyper-dumb. The comic relief character must be sliding on a banana peel as he takes a banana cream pie in the face (not sure why it has to be banana cream, but a plantain pie just wouldn't be as funny).

Comic relief characters might be better known as comic reassurance characters, as they reassure the majority--the mob--that there are people who are less than they. They are smarter than Belushi in Animal House and cooler than C.C. Baxter in The Apartment. Very reassuring. They are not better than Trent in Swingers. And the opinion makers who rank such performances aren't even cool enough to have a friend like Trent (hence the snub).

The emphasis on the lovable loser ties in with the annoying truism that "good comedy must be vulnerable." Not true. Vaughn in Swingers isn't vulnerable at all. He is cool, sharp, and hilarious, which helps him to carry the film (much like Cary Grant in His Girl Friday, another underrated performance). But apparently Trent isn't "vulnerable" enough to convince opinion makers that Vaughn's is a great performance. To opinion makers, you're not vulnerable unless your character is a perennial victim...though said victim will still somehow get the girl in the end, because we can't have movies telling the truth that women don't find losers lovable.

Workers of the world stay home

In 1994, with the help of America Online, my mother started telecommuting to work a few times a week. This was almost twenty years ago. The future was here!

I remember being 15 and thinking; “Too bad. Offices are about to become obsolete. All those commercial strip malls designed to serve commuters; the ones with poorly named delis and over-priced shoeshines…they’re about to disappear. How sad.”

(Why a teenager would be wistful about the death of watercooler chats and crap cafes that close at two might say something about the kind of daydreaming chump I was already becoming...)

I thought by now the whole concept of driving to work five days a week would be an artifact. I figured by now everyone would be driving to the office maybe once or twice a week and working from home the rest of the time. Well almost twenty years later most people still commute. Five days a week. Significant distances. To unnecessary office buildings.

We’ve gone to incredible lengths to make the car ride more fun; satellite radio, DVD players on the backs of the seats. But the fact of the car ride, the commute, remains the same.

Now in California (home of commuter dungeons like Los Angeles) they have legalized driverless cars. That’s right. They are getting rid of the inconvenience of the human hand on the steering wheel, but not the inconvenience of the human driving to work five days a week. We would rather create virtual chauffeurs than abandon the tradition of commuting to central offices.

It's not like commuting is cheap. Gas prices have gone up a lot since 1994. The price of oil has really dominated the headlines for the past seven years. And this had barely made a dent in the standard commuting routine.
 
And back when everyone was talking about climate change, what hogged the discussion? Green energy, clean energy. Not WORKING FROM HOME so you’re not constantly driving.

The focus on climate change sparked plenty of discussion about public transportation, but very little talk of not needing as much transportation. In 2012 does the subway still need be like a turkey farm each morning?

What else has changed the landscape since '94? Outsourcing. People making sales calls from India. People performing IT tasks for American companies from centers in Bangalore. We're comfortable with having sales teams in Bangalore. We're not ready for sales team working from US living rooms.

So what is going on here? Are humans just that stupid? Well yes, but I don’t believe that is the entire explanation.

Why are we still thinking inside the box? Why are employees still idling in cubicles and gathering in conference rooms? Well, when we hear about the glories of “thinking outside the box,” the inference is that everyone benefits equally when the box is bypassed. Not true. More often than not, Managers, Directors, CEOs, bosses, whatever rubric they carry, need the box to justify their existence (or at the very least their much larger salary).

Who makes the policy on working from home? Bosses do, and bosses need conference rooms to herd people into for unnecessary meetings. Bosses need everyone in that conference room looking attentive as they go through their latest list of impossible goals and unspecific ideas on achieving those impossible goals. If this same unnecessary discussion takes place through a conference call with everyone calling in from home, one person will be making the call while watching a Hoarders marathon. Another will be painting her toes. Another will be cleaning the cat box, and still another will be closing his sleepy eyes and grunting agreement when it appears necessary. Ultimately those employees will probably be just as productive, but in this scenario, the manager’s power is diminished. On a conference call where everyone is at home, no one is staring up at the boss in search of "direction." Without that hierarchical structure, the fact that he and his bosses get paid much more for contributing far less becomes easier to see (and prove). So allowing folks to work from home represents serious career risk for these diddling parasites. When people cease to be bamboozled by empty titles (and when clients stop being bamboozled by fancy offices), perhaps a major transition to large-scale telecommuting will finally take place.

One part of my 1994 prediction has come true. All over America, commercial property stands empty. In some parts of the country, LOTS of it stands empty. Not because of telecommuting; but because the economy is in such bad shape. It is enough to make you wistful.

 

Please mistress, may I have another Victorian novel?

You know a woman is going to be a bad date when she says, “I read a lot of literary fiction, so I’ve earned the right to read Hunger Games!” You know that remark is going to Part One of a biblical flood of babble, and that you’re going to have to roofie yourself just to deal with the pain.

But enough about my life…

About “literary fiction:” People talk about the lingering effects of Sunday school on children, how it injects them with guilt and warps their views on sex, pleasure, and just general happiness for years afterward. I think these commentators are on to something, and that similar guilt hangovers are spawned in regular classrooms; especially when it comes to recreational reading.

I continue to be surprised by how many adults apologize for reading “non-literary” fiction. You ask what they read, and they sheepishly say The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Why sheepish? Because they have succumbed to the shame dished out by all those throwaway English teachers they were forced to listen to in school; teachers who said you must read literature, not page turners! Now as adults they carry around guilt for picking Stieg Larsson over Emily Brontë. Instead of just reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and experiencing pleasure, they have to apologize for it or do penance by following it up with Wuthering Heights.

To carry the sex analogy further, it is like their first contact with reading was associated with pain—homework, being forced to endure coma tomes like Ethan Frome—and now they can’t experience the pleasure of reading without having some pain mixed in. They can’t read Hunger Games without thinking of their English teacher, their literary dominatrix shaking her head at them for committing the sin of reading something they enjoy. It runs so deep that even when they do “indulge” in a guilty pleasure like Hunger Games, the guilt keeps them from enjoying the full sensation. It is like reading with 3 condoms on.

We hear plenty about Sunday school survivors moping through life with all kinds of hang-ups about pleasure. We don’t hear about the hang-ups of adult readers. Hardened Sunday school grads struggle with things like their enjoyment of secular music. We laugh at them for it. We don't laugh at adult readers who struggle with their enjoyment of page turners.

I also think this need to be “literary” exists because even for adults, your taste in music and literature never cease to be pissing contests. Some folks are such slaves to the classroom mentality that in lieu of a GPA, they must find a way to put themselves on some form of honor roll.

I have not read Twilight or Hunger Games or the Stieg Larsson books. They might deserve all the bashing they get. But as I have posted before, I don’t believe in giving yourself homework. Reading, like anything else, is entertainment.

Speaking of entertaininment, isn't it odd that people don’t apologize for playing fantasy football or online poker; activities that are usually considered frivolous, but they do apologize for being caught with a copy of Hunger Games, even though reading it means they’re reading; an activity most people consider innately valuable?

You want some literary fiction with your reading? You need some pain? Next time you’re reading Hunger Games, take your free hand and smash your fingers in a leather-bound copy of War and Peace.

Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain

As we enter fall, where the days have less light and the weather slowly worsens, I am constantly on guard for morons (usually women) trying to tell me that they love the rain. That rain is romantic. That they love walking in it. That they love staying inside on rainy days (as if you couldn’t stay inside on a sunny day). Well this year, I’m not going to be a victim…

Rain as romance is a gimmick planted in people’s minds by romantic comedies, fake hipster curmudgeons, and “What Women Want” lists. Rain isn't the least bit romantic. I used to live in London, famous for its drizzle and fog, and I can tell you that after a few months of being pelted by rain the only thing I wanted to smooch was an exhaust pipe.

No one feels better in the rain. Not only is it a psychological downer; it afflicts you physically. That knee you twisted in pee-wee football? It’s fine in the summer. But let it start to pour a little: suddenly you’re limping and hating your dad for assuming that every fat kid is a born right tackle.

Doctors do not prescribe wet, gloomy climates for any ailment.

Depressed? Prescription: sunshine.

Arthritis? Prescription: sunshine.

Respiratory problems? Prescription: sunshine.

And winter isn’t much better. Sleet and cold are only sexy in the song "Baby, It's Cold Outside" (the most lascivious song ever). In real life, cold and sleet is a formula for a night alone watching deadening Internet porn.

People have to invent “romantic” activities—sitting by the fireplace, etc.—to help them cope with the horrible effects of rain. Sunshine on the other hand is romantic in and of itself.  Hot, sunny weather means less clothing, which is a thousand times more romantic than the most form-fitting raincoat. It is amazing that soggy deathtraps like London and Seattle have sold the world on this notion of drizzly romance. I should get the head of Seattle tourism to revamp my Internet dating profile.

If women are allowed to say rain is romantic, men should be allowed to say that gangbangs are romantic. At least gangbangs encourage human interaction. Rain causes people to burrow away like anti-social rodents.

And if you do get "caught in the rain," that apparently romantic event, the first thing you do is DRY OFF. No one gets soaked and says, "Well, we both look like wet dogs...time to hop in the sack!" 

Any day you have to carry an umbrella is a day you should have stayed in bed. From now on I’m only staying in hotels called The Four Summers. The only rain I want to see is the kind Travis Bickle talked about: “Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets.”

How to judge a comedy book by its cover

I just finished John Kennedy Toole’s A Confederacy of Dunces. After hearing about this must read comic novel for years, I finally broke down and read it. It was okay. There are some laughs in the last 50 pages, which is a little light for a 400-page comic novel. So contrary to what I had heard and read, it was not the funniest thing of all time (I wonder if the dramatic story of its publication helped inflate its reputation).

But I can be forgiven for thinking it is the greatest comic novel ever. Just listen to some of the critical accolades printed on the cover:

Washington Post: “A corker, an epic comedy, a rumbling, roaring avalanche of a book.”

New York Times: “nothing less than a grand comic fugue.”

New York: “An astonishingly original and assured comic spree.”

Here’s how you know the book is not that funny; when every single glowing review is written in the least funny way possible. People who know funny never say things like “grand comic fugue” or “assured comic spree.”

Imagine you heard someone talk like this in real life:

“Hey, you know who you should invite to the party? Dave. Yeah, Dave. Why? Because he is a grand comic fugue.”

or

“Look, I know the divorce was tough, but you gotta get back out there. I’ll introduce you to my neighbor Alice. She’s an assured comic spree.”

Any guy in his right mind would hitch a ride on the space shuttle to avoid a date with a woman sold him to him as an assured comic spree. And no one who knows funny would ever say “grand comic fugue.” Or corker. You know when you say corker? When you’re making fun of someone who doesn’t know how to describe comedy.

Now contrast those pretentious accolades with the original New York Times review of This Is Spinal Tap; the greatest comedy of all time:

http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9903E4D91439F931A35750C0A962948260

Not a single moronic line about it being a corker, an important film that elevates our national wit, or a cherry-topped comic dessert for those with a comedic sweet tooth. Probably because Spinal Tap is actually funny.

Not only are lines like "assured comic spree" obnoxious; they don’t actually describe anything. AT ALL. An assured comic spree gives no useful indication of the book’s tone or approach. It’s like calling a metal album loud. Yeah thanks, Professor. I’ll be sure to read your book on post-colonial tinnitus to help me figure out that Black Sabbath isn’t whispery.

Critics are frequently useless, and are nearly always useless when it comes to writing about funny. And unfortunately, comedians and comedy writers are always the least listened to when it comes to the topic of comedy. For some reason Katie Couric is allowed to tell Jerry Seinfeld what comedy means in the aftermath of 9/11. After all, what does Seinfeld know about anything? He’s just a comedian.

Romney isn't Reagan; He's Dewey

Romney, like all Republican hacks, says the word "Reagan" almost as often as he says "the." Mitt uses "Reagan" likes it's a comma. In reality, Mr. Romney has much more in common with a certain Thomas E. Dewey of DEWEY DEFEATS TRUMAN fame.

Both had been presidential bridesmaids before. Dewey made an unsuccessful run for President in '44 (and in '40). Romney made an unsuccessful run in '08.

Both men ran on the heels of a Republican surge in Congress. Both surges were described by those doing the surging as "a mandate." In Dewey's day, the '46 elections were said to be a mandate on the New Deal. In Romney's time, the '10 elections were supposedly a mandate on programs like Obamacare (how uncomfortable for Mr. Romneycare).

Both faced a beleaguered incumbent. At one point in '48, Truman sported an approval rating of 36%.

Both were liberal (by Republican standards) governors of famously liberal states (Dewey New York, Mitt Massachusetts); making them suspicious to Republicans elsewhere in the country. Perhaps this is part of the reason their opponents focused their campaigns on the desperate need to "nominate a real conservative;" making the races a bit of an "anyone but Romney/Dewey affair." In 1948 Dewey's opponents even convened to construct a delegate strategy to stem "the Dewey blitz." They failed.

Both were accused of insufficiently differentiating themselves from the incumbent; basically offering a series of overly cautious "me-tooisms." This approach made it easier for Truman to seem like a tough talker, and will likely afford Obama the same opportunity. Don't be surprised if before long we're hearing, "Give 'em Hell, Barry!"

The big difference is that Dewey was very much expected to win. No one expects Mitt to steamroll Barack. So Romney can reference Reagan all he wants. The rest of us know how this movie ends. The headline this November will be OBAMA DEFEATS ROMNEY.

Maximum Wages and Minimal Prospects

This week Ray Dalio of Bridgewater, the world's largest hedge fund, talked of a "lost decade" for the economies of Southern Europe.

This dovetails with a piece published last week by Deutsche Bank (h/t Zerohedge) on "Why the PIGS are Out of Luck." Says Zerohedge:

There are three key factors to modeling trade flows - or relevance - in a post-globalization world. While competitiveness is important, countries gain from being generally 'Technology-rich', 'Labor-rich', and/or 'Resource-rich'.

Analysis of Global Competitive Advantages

 

Among those in the "no particular advantage" category: The PIGS: Portugal, Italy, Greece, and Spain.

Normally in times of collapse, we think of countries becoming havens of cheap labor (which helps their recovery). But because of the PIGS's harsh union laws and pools of regulatory quicksand, Portugal, Italy, Greece, and Spain cannot become competitive with a LABOR RICH country like Vietnam without a marked adjustment of their labor laws; actually, of their entire societies. That is likely to take years (if it happens at all), so the process whereby the PIGSs become competitive relative to Vietnam probably isn't even a medium term prospect.

Also, a country like Greece has little manufacturing. The infrastructure and labor force with the appropriate skills to manufacture is already in place in Vietnam, where the labor is much cheaper. Which country would you choose?

A standard way of becoming more competitive is to devalue your currency. As long as the PIGSs remain velcroed to the euro, they will be stuck with a strongish currency (at least relative to a hypothetical lira or peseta) which combined with their labor laws and regulation will keep them extremely uncompetitive.

The old argument in favor of countries like Italy or Spain was that they were more stable than the emerging world, as they had the "rule of law" (kind of). Now that that too seems to be breaking down, exactly what do those countries have to offer?