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Thursday, Dec 14, 2006

The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals by Michael Pollan [Penguin - $26.95]


It’s not clear which would be a less appealing digestive aid after Christmas dinner: Pollan’s account of the industrial food production system lurking behind a McDonald’s value meal, or his subsequent account of hunting a pig for his dinner. But after the roast beef and the last of the candy canes, Pollan’s ability to translate the science of nutrition and agriculture into narrative will provoke well into the New Year.


 


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Thursday, Dec 14, 2006
by PopMatters Staff

THE EXIES
A Modern Way of Living with the Truth
[Eleven Seven Music]


Download: “Once in a Lifetime” [MP3]


Stream: “Once in a Lifetime” [Real Audio | Windows]


 


“Los Angeles modern rock band The Exies recently completed their new album A Modern Way of Living with the Truth.  The album was produced by James Michael (Mötley Crüe, Duran Duran, Camp Freddie) and is due out in stores in early 2007 through Eleven Seven Music.  The Exies decided to create a music video for the classic Talking Heads track “Once in a Lifetime” because they felt the song embodied the essence of their record that at it’s core is existential in nature. Scott Stevens from The Exies comments, ‘The ‘Once in a Lifetime’ video is about rising above the past and moving on through life’s pain, suffering, love, and joy.  Many people get caught up along life’s journey and pine for a period in their lives when they were happiest—full of hope, love, and friendship.  However, these things are fleeting and ever changing.  This is a video of everything that we are that binds us and penetrates us and brings us together.  It is love, loss, empathy, and shame that in the end, leads us to our own personal truth.’”—Eleven Seven Music

Tagged as: the exies
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Thursday, Dec 14, 2006

A Salute to Hee Haw [Time Life - $29.99]


Buck Owens, Roy Clark, Grandpa Jones, Junior Samples… for almost 30 years, Cornfield County was home to country music’s best and brightest. Mimicking the comic interludes that peppered the original Grand Old Opry broadcasts, Hee Haw took the variety show and instilled it with a sense of homespun rural ridiculousness. The humor was hackneyed and tended toward the juvenile joke level, but the cast’s overwhelming earnestness—and the regular hit parade of superstar performers—made every episode a hilarious hootenanny. Though complete series sets are probably never going to reach the DVD medium, fans can still revisit some of the show’s best moments with this fascinating multi-disc set. While not the cream of the cornpone crop, this still makes for some fun family viewing.


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Thursday, Dec 14, 2006

The Economist takes on the notion of socially responsible food shopping, attempting to debunk notions that buying organic or fair trade or locally grown foods in any way helps accomplish anything other than making yourself feel better. I’m actually extremely sympathetic to this position—shopping activism seems a bogus proxy for actually political power (as the editorial writer also points out) and it seems mainly a product of vicariously projecting oneself into some helpless other (a peasant farmer, a migrant worker, an animal bred for slaughter, an indigneous tribesman, etc.) in alien, complex situations created and driven by many different factors and then acting as though one’s emotional response yields all the relevant facts. One is led through moral vanity to believe that one’s own personal emotions are superior to and more significant than historical reality and the social systems that reproduce it and the conscious decision making of all those people whose lives we have no wherewithal to be making assumptions about. And our consequent actions are ultimately only about making ourselves feel good, and more powerful and influential perhaps than any individual can be, absent the tools of political power. Our own deeply felt good intentions don’t make out individual piecemeal actions free of perverse, unintended consequences (Albert O. Hirschman’s warning about reactionary rhetoric notwithstanding). Neverthess I’ll try to temper my gullibility for this species of right-wing argument in the following summary. (Brad Plumer has a nice corrective here as well.)


The editorial argues that organic food, because it is produced less efficiently, consumes more land and has the perverse consequence of destroying more of the natural environment via deforestation. (I liked this bald statement: “Farming is inherently bad for the envirnoment: since humans took it up around 11,000 years ago, the result has been deforestation on a massive scale.” I don’t think, however, The Economist is advocating a return to hunting and gathering.) Fair-trade arrangements distort the price system and encourage farmers to produce goods for which there is insufficient demand, rather than diversify into viable crops. (Whether that option exists for many of these third-world farmers is not addressed—but if they must be wrung out in the market’s creative destruction processes as agribusiness consolidates, so be it.) And locally-grown food can’t help change the finding that most of the miles food travels (in England, anyway) from farm to plate occur in our cars as we drive it home from the grocery store. The editorial also points out the futility of working against comparative advantages available in food being raised the locale where it can be achieved with greater efficiency—we waste resources if we insist on ignoring those possible gains.


So in lieu of these solutions, the editorial proposes carbon taxes to address energy waste (Harvard economist and Pigovian tax crusader Greg Mankiw surely agrees) and the eradication of agricultural subsidies of all kinds (i.e. ensure real free trade in agriculture, which would be fairer—though perhaps not for some individual farmers who would be driven out of business and have nothing else to do—than matching subsidies with more subsidies in protectionist tariff wars).


Mark Thoma at Economist’s View links to an essay from the journal Democracy that asks a related question: “Can progressives really change Wal-Mart–or any other company, for that matter?” Authors Aaron Chatterji and Siona Listokin argue that working to make corporations behave in a socially responsible way independent of binding, state-backed law is a futile endeavor. Corporations, due to their fiduciary responsibilities to shareholders, will always do what is most profitable. If that course also happens to also socially responsible, then so much the better. But they won’t surrender big profits for lesser ones simply because they want to be considerate, even if they wanted to—the hierarchical organization and the spontaneous order in the economic system that distributes decision making militates against it. That’s where government can step in and let us all off the hook by reigning in the profit motive in certain instances when, unfettered, it demonstrably harms the public good. Thus we must engage with the political process to push government to achieve these goals, and dismantle governments that put forward corporate interests at the expense of the public good.


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Wednesday, Dec 13, 2006


Van Smith never won an Oscar. He was never idolized or celebrated by a vehement genre audience like Dick Smith or Tom Savini. If his chief collaborator, cinematic genius John Waters, was the ‘Pope of Puke’, Smith was his primary prophet, a pure fashion forecaster who violated the mandates of style while creating his own kitsch couture along the way. Noted for finding the ugly underneath the beautiful, and more importantly, the glamour inside the gross, the mad make-up artist/costumer designer is more famous for taking the simple drag queen elements of one Harris Glen Milstead – a.k.a. Divine – and twisting them into pop culture iconography. Through a combination of scars, blackheads, pimples and other occlusions, Smith stood fearless in the face of misunderstanding mockery. Years later, when his approach was stolen outright for the catwalks of Paris and Milan, he and his friends in Waters’ Dreamland Studios had that long awaited, hard last laugh.


When you think about it, Smith did indeed start the whole vogue/vile concept behind well done exaggerated drag. Prior to his poisoning of the standards of beauty, males masquerading as women usually strove for the slight hyperrealism of the typical suburban spouse. Waters has even been quoted as saying that before Divine came along, most gay men “wanted to look like Bess Myerson”. Smith and his symbol changed all that. Using the limited budgets that a Dreamland production would provide, a Baltimore loaded with thrift and welfare shops, a penchant for bargain basement cosmetics, untold amounts of sequins, and an aesthetic that shouted “More! More! More!” this Matisse of Maybelline redefined the notion of what was trash and what was tasteful. Basically blurring the lines between the two, and throwing in some of his own Smith secrets, he created a signature sensibility that few, if any, have been able to mimic or match to this day.


Born Walter Avant Smith Jr. in Mirianna, Florida on 17 August, 1945, the renamed Van first ran into Waters after he graduated from the Maryland Institute College of Art in 1968. Living in an apartment complex inhabited by many of the future director’s antisocial company, he started hanging around the sets of Water’s early works. It wasn’t long before Smith was tapped to create Divine’s character of Babs Johnson for the seminal Midnight movie masterpiece Pink Flamingos. Designing a deranged fishtail gown, and shaving the actor’s hairline back toward the middle of his head (to make room for more make-up, Smith explained), he gave birth to a laugh out loud legendary look that has carried over for more than 35 years. It was a difficult accomplishment when you consider that Waters had little money, Divine was over 300 pounds and hard to fit, and Smith had to hand create everything, from dresses to hairpieces, fake breasts and the necessary female cheater (read: false vagina) for any nude scenes.


Yet he never let the lack of cash destroy his imagination. For his next pairing with Waters, the amazingly anarchic Female Trouble, Smith got to take Divine from teenager to tramp, lumpy housewife to scandalous supermodel. The transformations were terrific (including the use of some latex to mottle the star’s face with fake acid burns) and Smith even created outrageous outfits for co-stars Edith Massey (in particular, a laced leather item that still seems pornographic today) and Mink Stole (whose tumbled down school girl Taffy predates anything ever considered by Courtney Love or the rock band Babes in Toyland). The highpoint had to be the main character, Dawn Davenport’s, death row ensemble. Sure, her crazed cat suit with an off the shoulder strapless look and a single gloved arm leading to a connected set of razor sharp nails is amazing, but when limited to a potato sack like prison outfit, and a head completely bereft of hair, Divine’s dour, dumpy persona perfectly encapsulated the Waters/Smith ideal. The director has always stated that his make-up maven had a sense of “inner rot” and nothing shows this better than an obese drag queen being prepared for a little capital punishment.


Smith’s crowning achievement, however, is still Desperate Living. With Divine unavailable for filming (he/she was in San Francisco starring in her successful stage show) and former striptease sensation Liz Renay on tap to play a loco lipstick lesbian, Smith outdid himself. Sticking to the main theme of the movie, he took cast members like Mink Stole, Jean Hill, and Susan Lowe and magically transformed them into the hopeless citizenry of Mortville, a seedy sanctuary where criminals, vagabonds and other social misfits could come and live out there wrong footed wretched existence. The only problem was, they had to conform to the contemptible demands of the demented Queen Carlotta. While almost any talented designer can conceive of a shower curtain dress or a fluorescent green tutu for a 500 pound black woman, Smith made it all seem like part of the plot. In fact, the main element that people often forget about this amazing artist is that he never once tried to overshadow Waters’ worlds. Instead, he hoped to complement their corruptness by flawlessly visualizing their inner deceit. And he usually did.


When Waters went ‘legit’, first with Polyester, and later with Hairspray and Cry Baby, Smith was right along side, toning down his approach but never once abandoning his ethic. His work in the two trips back into Baltimore nostalgia – Hairspray centering on a ‘60s teen TV dance show, Cry Baby a cheesy chunk of ‘50s juvenile delinquency – proved that Smith could handle historically accurate and shockingly ridiculous at the same time. Continuing on with costumes only for the rest of Waters oeuvre (up to and including the man’s most recent effort, 2004’s A Dirty Shame) Smith was one of the last original Dreamlanders, a group that saw death (Divine, David Lochery) and the passage of time take away many of the merry band. When his aging mother grew ill, Smith moved back to Mirianna to take care of her. It is there where, on 5 December 2006, he had a fatal heart attack. Among fans of film, the loss was immediate and irreplaceable. Not only was Van Smith that rare individualist in a realm loaded with no name journeymen, but his vision lives on in that stronger than ever subculture of gay life.


It is clear that, from a purely symbolic standpoint, the mythos of Divine would be substantially mitigated if Van Smith had not been on hand to create her crackpot composite. It’s a look that’s so unsettlingly unique that only that rare combination of performer and packager can pull it off successfully. Smith once stated that his generic approach to Divine’s basic look was a meshing of Jayne Mansfield and Clarabelle the Clown. No doubt, the actor frequently looked sexy and sick, sinister and silly, a harlequin, a horror and a honey all rolled into one great big ball of brazenness. Many critics have pointed out that Waters seemed to lose his edge once Divine passed away in 1988. It will be interesting to see where the filmmaker goes now that his guru of gruesomeness, his trident of tastelessness, his imaginer of ick is gone as well. Waters did manage to make movies without his longtime friend and celebrated star. This, however, may be an aesthetic blow to great to completely compensate for.


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