Hard, Cutting

"The Ruins" = Horr(or)ific "Little Shops of Horrors"

2008-01-20T23:35:00.000-05:00

It's probably not a good sign when you are waiting for Seymour Krelborn to appear and for the antagonist to break out in song to "Mean Green Mother From Outer Space," right? Such was the mindset when I was reading Scott Smith's "The Ruins."

I would call myself a fan of Smith's first novel, "A Simple Plan" (which shares some similarities with Cormac McCarthy's "No Country for Old Men") but to say I was underwhelmed with "The Ruins" is solid understatement. Although the novel starts off well, once the doomed end up on a hill they cannot escape -- on page 77, less than one-fifth of the way through -- it quickly runs out of steam. It's on the pile of books I am ready to trade back to the Strand.

Now I see that a movie adaptation is coming out in April. Ho hum, beware the plants.

Seriously...

2008-01-18T22:29:00.000-05:00

...despite the fact that the blog has apparently moved to a quarterly format (like Lapham's!), I should just move to Tumblr platform. Apparently, all the cool kids are doing it.

2007-10-21T12:18:00.000-04:00

Taken October 12, 2007. One of my favorite photos, for sure.

5 of 11 "SNL" Castmembers Love Arcade Fire

2007-02-25T12:56:00.000-05:00

Reporting from 30 Rockerfeller Center: Want to to know why Arcade Fire ran off the stage during the closing credits of "Saturday Night Live" last night?

Because, in something that is apparently rarely done at Studio 8H, they played a mini-concert for the audience. Making up the front row of the 3-song set was Seth Meyers, Amy Poehler, Fred Armisen, Bill Hader and Andy Samberg, all looking absolutely transfixed by this band. The Fire has some high-powered fans, for sure, and converted a good chunk of the audience last night as well.

It's odd that my highlight of the show happened off-camera-- at the end of their three-song set, they played "Wake Up", off the stage and in the audience. Amazing. The cameras were rolling, I'm hoping this appears somewhere.

Also a funny tidbit: Five seconds before the show went back live for Arcade Fire's second song, Rainn Wilson looked at lead singer Win Butler and, in a very deadpan voice, asked what happened to his guitar (he had smashed it during their first song). Ha.

I'm Breaking Up With You, Time Magazine

2007-02-04T15:13:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry, Time Magazine: it's not me, it's you.

Please don't make this harder than it already is. We've have been through a lot together, but I think it's time we went our separate ways. I'm guessing that I started reading you in my early teens; you were the first serious newsmagazine I ever read (sorry, Highlights). I believe I've read almost every issue since then. You flattered me in December (cf. the cover at right), but I can't return your feelings. I'm walking away the next time I get a note begging me to renew.

Why? Mostly, it's because I just can't keep up with you.

You moved your publication date to Fridays, which presents a problem-- I can't spend my entire weekend reading magazines. On the same day you arrive, I also get my guilty pleasure, Entertainment Weekly, as well as a trio of your competitors, BusinessWeek, The Economist and The Week. Then, on Sunday, the New York Times Magazine drops. I can only read so much and not be a hermit.

Also, you've changed a great deal-- which is not a bad thing, we all change. But I just don't think we're a fit. Since managing editor Rick Stengel came aboard, the cover stories have become intriguing -- but ultimately boring -- and the copydesk needs to take its red pen out more to green the long-winded screeds that permeate the magazine. Worst of all, I can't stand the conservative slate of columnists, like Bill Kristol, Charles Krauthammer and Joe Klein. How about some balance, like the insertion of some progressive columnists?

I'm sorry. I know this hurts, but I just can't do this any more. I hold out hope that one day we can reconnect.

Worth Seeking Out: Robert Chalmers

2007-02-03T18:56:00.000-05:00

The offbeat Bristish author Robert Chalmers is a little off the beaten path, but worth seeking out. Think Nick Hornby with an edge, and a dash of the absurd.

In his 2002 debut novel "Who's Who in Hell", the Brit spun a tale of an obituarist putting together a compendium of the world's worst. It's an angsty novel, as the main character struggles to find his niche and grow up. In his latest, which actually came out in 2004 but I only read now, he writes another tale of one finding himself. "Fortune's Bastard" is actually a little hard to synposize, so here's the description from the book's dust jacket:

"One morning Edward Miller, tabloid newspaper editor and reactionary alpha male, spontaneously seduces his temp in an office storeroom. The news doesn't take long to reach his cold, beautiful wife-- and it just happens to be their anniversary. By morning, his marriage is over, his career in shambles, and his house is on fire. Clearly, it's time to leave town. After a brief stint in Spain as an English teacher, Miller flees again when his cover is blown, winding up in a Florida town populated by carnies and circus freaks and ruled with an iron fist by the Half Man, a criminal and sadist with no legs. Unexpectedly, despite even a one-eyed albino hit man who seems to overhear every compromising conversation between Miller and the Half Man's wife the Lizard Woman, Miller gradually realizes this may be where he belongs."

Weird, right? Hidden between the rolling narrative are some nice little moments. Here's one: Miller, drunk, being told that the car he finds himself in is not a cab, but driven by a regular joe that stopped at a red light and found someone getting in the back seat.

If you can, definitely seek out Chalmers and pray for more novels by the talented writer to come.

Be Back in a Bit.

2007-01-24T23:10:00.000-05:00

Work is taking precedence right now, I'll post more in February.

"Joey, Do You Like Movies About Gladiators?"

2007-01-07T14:54:00.000-05:00

"Airplane!" is a rare film. One that if I were to find it playing on some television channel, I would literally stop what I was doing and curl up on the couch to watch. The outside world stops and productivity be damned. Between the sight gags and the written words, the film is genius. Honestly, I've watched it far too many times to count at this point, and will continue to do so.

So, I'm always looking for the "Airplane" moments in life-- where you can riff off of one of the classic lines from the film. A real opportunity, not the ubitiquous "Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit amphetamines". Finally, one presented itself this past week.

From an IM exchange with a female friend:
Friend: He hasn't even been able to say those three little words.
Me: What words?
Friend: I love you.
Me: I love you too, but what are the three little words?

I quietly chuckled to myself the rest of the day.

A 'No Vacancy' Bookshelf Sign

2006-12-30T18:53:00.000-05:00

As you can probably tell from my recent spate of posts, I already have far too many books in my small, cramped apartment. It hasn't gotten to the point yet that I've put twenty books in a pillow cover and begun sleeping on them, but I do have 30 books waiting to be read. As I speak, they're balancing precariously on top of my armoire and I'm typing softly in order to not disturb them from their Jenga-like state.

Part of this amassed collection no doubt comes via buying into the mentality of an ex several years ago, be it fortunately or not. She would go to Strand every so often, buy two cartons of books to haul home and justify this act by reasoning that she is "giving them a home". In her mind, used books were like a cute puppy at a pound.

So I have conflicted emotions when a New York City bookstore closes. The latest is Murder Ink, an Upper West Side bookstore that focuses on mystery/noir (and my particular favorite genre). It closes its doors for good tomorrow after being around for 34 years. I've trekked up to its location every 3 months or so to browse and buy, and it's well-known to genre fans; honestly, I'm really hurt to see it go.

So one of the two emotions is sadness, in losing a favorite. But here's the other part: Vulture that I can be, I made sure to visit it in its final days to add books to my 'to-be-read' pile. To a bibliophile like myself, there's a certain giddiness, derived from some primal urge, in buying a bunch of books at one time.

But the mood at Murder Ink was not anything you'd expect it to be today-- it wasn't scavengers fighting over a choice item like what one might see at 5 a.m. the day after Thanksgiving or the haggling one finds at a yard sale. This was far different from the final night at CBGB's, another institution that closed this year. It was quiet and respectful, with many murmurs of "I'm so sorry about the closing" as people left the store. They asked about how the owner was doing and what the gals who manned the counters would be doing next. It was almost funerial and somber in tone. Given the clientele, I'm not sure why I'm so surprised-- it probably was the recent Christmas shopping frenzy.

But, on a somber occasion like this when you're talking about a mom and pop store, it was good to see the treated with the respect it deserved. The customers were truly giving the items from Murder Ink a home.

E-Media Tidbits, Take Note

2006-12-29T03:26:00.000-05:00

This is a great concrete example of print media harnessing the power of the blogosphere: The New York Daily News needed to fill two pages for its Holiday Beauty Gift Guide on December 17. They turned to Beauty Addict blogger Kristen Kelly, born and bred in New York City. This is the result. Everybody wins here.

While I'm guessing this was a one-off (Orla Healy is still on staff as their beauty editor), this is a perfect case study of a newspaper leveraging its readership base's specialized knowledge for content. Kristen gets added visibility and (hopefully) a nice freelance check. Will there be more of this in the future over at the Daily News, perhaps?

(Disclosure: Kristen is a friend and I'm incredibly excited for her on this.)

"I am a Tortured Writer."

2006-12-20T02:15:00.000-05:00

This, above, is a handwritten note I've put up in my office, to remind myself of my limitations.

I am a slow writer, one who pores over sentences again and again, continually parsing words and switching everything around until the deadline is long past due. I recently mentioned this to a friend who works at a newswire -- where you have less than an hour to turn around breaking news -- that I could never do what she does. And I have no idea how the kids at Gawker Media crank out 12 posts a day. I'd rather work at a monthly. Or something quarterly. Something long-lead.

It's not the pressure, but I have a constant urge to fiddle with the written word. And you should see what happens -- or, more accurately what doesn't happen -- when writer's block hits. For those interested in more about this area, he sure to pick up the fascinating "The Midnight Disease: The Drive to Write, Writer's Block, and the Creative Brain", by Alice Weaver Flaherty.

I was reminded of this again while reading the forthcoming book "Made to Stick", by Chip and Dan Heath (review TK). Early on, they quote Ed Cray, an erstwhile journalist who is now a communications professor at USC. There, he relates that "[t]he longer you work on a story, the more you find yourself losing direction. No detail is too small. You just don't know what your story is anymore."

Too true-- it's something I need to work on, and part of why I started this blog, to help with the writing process. I've spent far too long writing and rewriting this post already.

"Character is a Psychosis. Integrity is a Complex."

2006-12-16T18:44:00.000-05:00

"When a true genius appears in the world, you may know him by this sign, that the dunces are all in confederacy against him."
-- Jonathan Swift, 1706

One of my favorite books has always been the Pulitzer Prize-winning "A Confederacy of Dunces", John Kennedy Toole's foray into the mind of Ignatius J. Reilly, an intelligent and portly man-child in 1960's New Orleans. So I was heartened to see Peter Hyman raise the seasonal question of whether the book would ever become a film over at Slate yesterday.

Four years ago, when I was writing at a film site, I actually had the chance to read the then-current draft of the screenplay. My main hypothesis was that it was destined to fall into the category of "good book, terrible film". In some sense, I still feel that way, honestly. But I'd give an arm and a leg to still see it made.

I still think the opening to the script was grand. As I wrote at FilmJerk at the time: "The start to Steven Soderbergh and Scott Kramer's treatment of the film is sure to cause [the viewer to gape, grin, laugh out loud, and shake his head in wonderment, in the words of Walker Percy]. "What in the world does the title of this ludicrous movie mean?," cries Ignatius off-screen as he, and we, see the credits of "Dunces" unspooling at a children's matinee. Continuing the very "Mystery Science Theater 3000" moment, Ignatius then calls the director a hack extraordinaire, blows a raspberry at those involved with the writing and, when the producer credits are unveiled, yells out, "That's not a good sign; the more producers, the more feeble-minded the production!" It's a great start to the screenplay, one which aptly sets up what is to come and will invariably draw the audience in."

Given what has since happened to the city of New Orleans 15 months ago, this would be a fabulous time to re-start the journey from page to screen-- to make it a tribute, in part, to a fallen city. It's going to be a hard sell to audiences, I'm sure, but the potential is there for this to be a majestic -- albeit goofy -- film.

I continue to hold out hope it makes it to the screen, someday.

(Disclosure: Peter and I both worked at the same PR agency eight years ago)

Really, You're Delightful

2006-12-15T19:00:00.000-05:00

I have fallen into the verbal rut of saying people are delightful. Half of the time I mean it; the other half, notsomuch.

If you're reading this and I've called you delightful in the recent past, nothing to worry about-- you're in the former category, obviously.

Not Leavin' on a Jet Plane

2006-12-08T19:31:00.000-05:00

Uncle, uncle. Unlike some others I know, I am not cut out to be a road warrior; I've long battled a fear of flying. Hell, the joke is that I can't even handle being on an airplane unless there is a promise of palm trees and tropical drinks on the other end.

But, in the past two weeks, I've been forced to make two one-day trips to somewhat-distant cities via plane. Nothing beats getting up at an ungodly hour to take the first possible flight out, and return back to NYC less than eight hours later. At the end of each trip, I was barely coherent and locked in a fetal position in the cab ride home.

You want to see a wonderful sight, really?: Watch me during take-off and you'll see that my knuckles turn an odd shade of white as I grip the armrests for dear life. I'm sure that wild-eyed look of panic I display only adds to that wonderful scene.

Whittling the Weekend Away

2006-12-03T01:45:00.000-05:00

I am hoping this weekend will pass quickly-- but I'm not in a rush for a new work week to begin or anything like that, nah. At approximately midnight Sunday, the fourth-season finale for "The Wire" will spring onto the scene. And I will be watching, rapturously. And, most likely, more than once. I can't wait to see what transpires, the build-up has been amazing.

This is not the first time I've written about this HBO seies, nor will it likely to be the last. But there is a certain sadness in knowing, in little less than 24 hours time, I'll have to wait more than a year to see the next season. And, the more I see what series creator David Simon intends to do with the fifth season -- check out this interview in Slate that ran Friday -- I'm counting the days.

(And how sad is it that I've been holing myself up in my apartment all weekend, sorta, watching a mini-marathon of the first season?)

Time to Make Today's Papers

2006-12-02T11:10:00.000-05:00

Last April, I highlighted the first thing I read each morning-- Today's Papers, from Slate. It's a crisp, straight summary of what the major U.S. newspapers (The New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Washington Post, USA Today and the Wall Street Journal) feature on their front pages each day. To say it's invaluable is a major understatement.

Back in August, Eric Umansky -- then the editor -- announced he was leaving and that Slate would be having a "bake-off" between three writers for the feature's editorship. To absolutely no fanfare, Daniel Politi began November 1 as the new editor. A writer living in Buenos Aires, Argentina, his first effort writing TP came in November 2004 and, before officially taking on the role, had written 70 editions of the feature.

If you haven't already, sign up for the free daily e-mail-- and be sure tell Daniel he's doing a fine job, which he is. It's yeoman's work, as this 2003 Mediabistro feature on Umansky illustrates.

If I might make a suggestion for Slate? I'd love to see the site develop a sister newsletter to this one, examining the business pages of the U.S. papers as well-- I'd sign up for that.

The Great Coffee War of 2006

2006-11-27T07:26:00.000-05:00

Talk about being overcaffeinated: Soon, four different coffee shops will battle it out on East Ninth Street and Second Avenue in New York City. This coffee connoisseur's paradise finds each within 200 square feet of each other.

Prior to today, it was a two-way battle between the chain, Starbucks, and the indie underdog, Mudspot. Today sees the opening of the second Max Brenner outlet in New York, housed in the spot that Starbucks was a year ago and now directionally opposite the retail giant on the south side of the street. And -- according to the sign I read last night -- Veselka is now expanding its operations several doors down, opening its own coffee shop directly opposite the Mudspot.

Talk about craziness, as well as market oversaturation. We'll see who is standing within a year, but my hope is that the plucky and enterprising Mudspot, which I have a lot of love for, continues to thrive.

"Ghost" in the Machine

2006-11-26T22:23:00.000-05:00

As I had mentioned earlier, I have been reading "The Ghost Map", Steven Johnson's look into the 1854 London cholera epidemic. Now that I've finished it, I can say it's a fine book, notwithstanding the extended passages involving fecal matter and Johnson's habit of wandering in places.

A medical mystery chronicling an eight-day outbreak that touched almost every family in the Broad Street area, Johnson uses this event both as a focal point for discussing the evolution of cities and how this event helped to change how we combat large-scale epidemics. One begat the other-- the infrastructure of London helped the cholera breed in 1854. The end chapters, which looks at the future could hold in disease management, are even more eerie and chilling.

As Johnson himself writes in his blog, "So many of the issues that define the modern world today -- the runaway growth of megacities, environmental crises, fears of apocalyptic epidemics, digital mapping, the need for clean water, urban terror, the rise of amateur expertise -- are there, in embryo, in the Broad Street outbreak." Talk about a giant premise, one that he ultimately tackles well.

To me, though, the most eye-opening part of his book comes towards the end when he discusses what could happen in the future. Noting that by 2015, the largest cities are expected to be Tokyo, Mumbai, Dhaka, Sao Paulo and Dehli -- astonishingly, each with populations of more than 20 million -- he writes, "the megacities of the twenty-first century will have to learn all over again the lessons that London muddled through in the nineteenth." We are left with the impression that cholera could strike a major city again, and be even more deadly. Also intriguing is his idea that global warming and the energy crunch "will have disruptive effects on existing cities in the coming decades".

Those expecting only the blow-by-blow of what happened in 1854 will ultimately be disappointed. It's more than that. It's also not the normal Johnson polemic-- it's a large departure from his earlier works, and an improvement. I would love to see him tackle this vein, the historical thriller, again.

Read Like Me

2006-11-23T08:02:00.000-05:00

For those who have been asking about what I read online, I've made my Bloglines feed public. You can find it here. It's very unorganized, but tell me if I'm missing something I should be reading.

Already Over: Sunday Brunch

2006-11-20T07:28:00.000-05:00

I've now giving up on weekend brunch.

Forgive me, but I've never really understood the purpose of this New York city staple.

You wake up, still a bit groggy from the previous night's excursions, and struggle to make it to that weekend's brunch destination. This even though it's the early afternoon. You arrive and hope that everyone else will make it, so that your reservation isn't ganked -- my apologies, 'gank' is my new favorite word -- by another. You make small talk and your mildew-embedded mind tries to catch up with the conversation. Everyone looks like they're struggling to get through this endeavor.

The check comes and you gawk at how much you've paid for so little; you're still malnourished. And, after awkward goodbyes, you go home to be non-productive. Really, more than anything, you crave a nap.

I hope that whomever came up with the idea of brunch was dragged into the public square, and drawn and quartered in full view of all the other townsfolk. Seriously, I hate the idea that much. From now on, I'm going to leisurely grab a coffee and a newspaper-- at my own pace.

"Fool Me-- You Can't Get Fooled Again"

2006-11-19T15:10:00.000-05:00

It's not often I give a writer a second try.

I've given up on more authors than I care to admit, after being let down by one of their efforts. The popular-with-my-generation Chuck Palahniuk is an example of this, oddly enough-- nothing to do with prose or subject matter, his works just weren't something I was interested enough in to invest the money and time in a second try. "Fight Club" was 'eh' to me and I stopped "Invisible Monsters" after 10 pages. I fear I was spoiled by "Fight Club", the film.

Don Dellilo is another example that comes to mind here, to name another writer. And, in the musical realm, I fear this might be true with Bloc Party's upcoming sophomore effort, based upon the advance reviews of its next album based on what I'm hearing and reading.

But Steven Johnson is one author who I have given a second pass. Although I disliked his earlier effort -- "Everything Bad is Good for You: How Today's Popular Culture Is Actually Making Us Smarter", the title of which encapsulates the book's focus quite well -- I am finding his newest, "The Ghost Map", to be a real page-turner. More likely than not, it has to do with the change from theory to non-fiction.

More on this book soon. But it just struck me, as I looked at my bookshelf, how many author's full canons I have there, and few singular efforts.

You Know You're Going to Have a Tough Monday Workday When...

2006-11-14T06:46:00.000-05:00

...you realize some joker has switched the regular coffee and the decaf in the kitchen. Ack.

Early Obituary: Bamn!

2006-11-13T07:23:00.000-05:00

On St. Mark's Place in the East Village, a new take on the self-serve fast-food joint has been getting a great deal of media attention not only in New York, but nationally. Calling itself Bamn!, this new 'eatery' bills itself as a 25-hour automat. Basically, you can plop in $2 in quarters, push a white button and out pops a teriyaki burger.

For a while, it became a good place to grab a quick meal on the go; it's certainly unique in this day and age.

It was a concept that quickly lost flavor, though, in my mind. Same selection day in and day out. Same class of tourist-y people gawking at the concept. And despite the whole "25 hours a day" hook, it remains suspiciously unopen when I walk to the subway each morning. I'd like to think Bamn! will be around for the long run, but the owners need to change the fare up a bit.

But, each time I pass it, it's feeling more and more like a novelty act, something that will soon disappear from the East Village landscape.

[Photo by Tina Fineberg of the Associated Press]

Tired of Lifestyle Porn

2006-11-06T06:23:00.000-05:00

Thrillist. Daily Candy. Urban Daddy. Very Short List. And now, from the New York Times, comes Urbanite. I'm signed up for each of these e-newsletters (often dubbed 'lifestyle porn'), and I'm feeling a little fatigued from all of it.

So many choices to be found within, so little time. Is it just me, or is this category -- while catering to different niches, for the most part -- becoming oversubscribed?

Of these, I'm most partial to the erudite Very Short List, which started its run in early September. While some might find it boring (Gawker did), it's become the one I look to each morning. As News.com describes it, the e-newsletter "carries recommendations of unheralded cultural and entertainment products, including books, CDs and DVDs." Now in beta, it offers contributions from Kurt Andersen and is hard to find for those seeking it out-- a bracketed search of its name doesn't even come up its site among the first 10 pages of results on Google. Here's to hoping this one catches on further.

Funky Beer Memories

2006-11-01T20:57:00.000-05:00

Halloween. What does one do when their refrigerator dies and there are two cases of beer within that were on their way to becoming funky? Obviously, it's time to take off the wig, put away the candy and invite the friends over. That's how my Halloween night started and why I'm now cleaning up my apartment.

While I'm more than a little peeved at the thought of eating out for the near future, this brings back some fond meories of when I was a senior in high school. My good friends and I had gone to a Bridgeport, Conn. liquor store and bought a ton of beer, which was then transferred to the trunk of my car-- a Peugot, which we referred to as the clown car because of the amount of people we could fit in there. Every other day for about a month, we put fresh ice in there; my car became known as a party on wheels. Definitely good times, even with what soon became skanky beer, until my father made me open up the trunk and I got in a load of trouble.

Ah, good memories.