Hopper, the Anti-Rockwell

Chop Suey (1929) -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Who was Edward Hopper? He was a prolific American painter of the early 20th century, famous for his pictures of urban landscapes which evoked loneliness and destitution to some people. He was instructed by another famous artist, Robert Henri -- a famed member of the Ash Can school of art. Ash Can art was primarily noted for showing highly detailed, realistic urban, frequently grim settings. It was revolutionary at the time; subject matters were things as mundane as gas stations, hamburger stands and people in laundromats.

Hopper's pictures have been described most frequently as "lonely" pictures. His House by the Railroad (1925) was said to be Hitchcock's inspiration for the house in the movie Psycho. Some art critics have described Hopper as the "anti-Rockwell". Both artists depicted scenes of early 20th century America. Norman Rockwell's were wholesome almost to the extreme -- they were depictions of things like children with puppies or kindly grandparents preparing a Thanksgiving turkey. Hopper's material was certainly not the choice for Saturday Evening Post covers. Not a problem -- his eerily beautiful take on the world probably has more staying power than any Rockwell magazine cover.

My own take of Hopper's pictures is something quite different from lonely or destitute -- his pictures usually have beautiful play of light or unusual color that seems almost otherworldly. To me, his pictures including the famous Nighthawks (1942) of patrons in a greasy spoon, are oddly inviting. I want to know more about the situation of the people depicted or the setting of the house. What were his own moods or thoughts connected to the picture?

Hopper lived to age 85 and was a happily married man -- he didn't have the anguished profile of Van Gogh or Toulouse La Trec. His pictures don't so much convey a sadness as much as they convey secrets untold -- and my inquiring mind will have to study his weird juxtapositions of objects and colors to figure out what he was saying. And if I come to no great conclusion? No bother -- I can still enjoy the beautiful renderings of America in the 1920's, 30's and 40's.

To see some of Hopper's best-known pieces, check out selected works on this Wikipedia entry: Hopper: Selected Works

© 2007 blogSpotter

Miller Wins One for the Gipper

Don't hate me because I'm going to be beautiful -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
The Cotton Bowl lives to see another day -- and if we play our cards right, many more days. A giant debt of gratitude is owed to Dallas Mayor Laura Miller, State Fair President Errol McKoy and Dean Foods executive Pete Schenkel for their work in securing pivotal Cotton Bowl game contracts thru the year 2015. Apparently, all 3 people played major roles in the key negotiations. Many of us were mourning the loss of the AT&T Cotton Bowl Classic to the Cowboys Stadium in Arlington, due for completion in 2009. As a result of our three tireless Dallas negotiators, the Texas/OU 'Red River Rivalry' will continue at Fair Park thru 2015. Also Grambling State and Prairie View will likely extend their contracts thru 2015.

The deals come at a price -- the teams involved will receive huge subsidies from the City of Dallas. The UT/OU subsidy alone will jump from $250,000 to $850,000. The benefit in commerce and publicity is enormous, easily worth the subsidies. Another near-certainty is that the $30 million in bond money allocated to renovation of the venerable, 77 year old stadium will now be spent as it was earmarked -- for stadium remodeling. Many nay-sayers were expressing a wish to divert the money elsewhere. To these people, a well-deserved raspberry. A city should be a place of civic pride and physical beauty; it should have a low crime rate and amenities that draw visitors. Fixing up Fair Park gives us the chance to do that. We should never, ever leave the city 'for dead' and 'let the chips fall where they may'. Don't write off entire sectors or let city attractions fall into disrepair. Shame on anyone for pulling in that direction.

Several coaches and team officials mentioned that the State Fair of Texas is still a huge draw for their teams. The fair grounds themselves are slated for some improvements and maybe even year-round amusement rides. DART will open its Fair Park Station in Fall 2009, and this should help to tie the Park into the city's overall infrastructure. Visitors can come to the Fair without even renting a car or taking a cab. To all of you Cowboys football junkies -- good luck when your game lets out in Arlington. First, you'll get to fight the traffic. Then you'll have a dinner choice of Appleby’s, McDonalds or Bennigans, unless you come back to Dallas, the one that brung ya. In Dallas you can enjoy Uptown, Deep Ellum or Lower Greenville -- all more exciting choices that are much more convenient to a Fair Park attendee. I would also mention downtown Fort Worth, but I'm not a civic booster for Cow Town.

So who wants to see Fair Park dead? I can only imagine tax misers that turn thumbs down to most civic improvements. Thank goodness most of them live outside of Dallas proper and can't vote in our bond elections. Fie on your cheapness! The stadium lives.

© 2007 blogSpotter

We're the Doodlebops

DeeDee, Rooney and Moe -- Picture courtesy Disney

by blogSpotter
Once upon a time, children's entertainment featured live characters who were clownish (Bozo), curmudgeonly (Captain Kangaroo) or manic head cases (Pee-wee Herman). Pee-wee's Playhouse is one of the few that actually ventured into "dangerous" terrain with potentially adult-oriented humor and characters that project a juvenile adult sensibility (e.g., Pee-wee himself). Now we have the Doodlebops, a Canadian Trio created by Cookie Jar Entertainment and featured on the Disney channel. The trio is primarily a musical group and it features two men and a woman, all in their early twenties. The girl, DeeDee is played by Lisa Lennox; she's dressed as a cheerleader and she's all-the-way pink; dress, hair and skin are hot pink with a few purple accessories. Moe and Rooney, the guys kind of resemble Raggedy Andy dolls. Moe is bright orange (yes -- face hair and all). Rooney is a bright royal blue (ditto to the face, hair and clothes).

In each episode, the Doodlebops present a simple lesson about sharing, practical jokes or other similar things. They are helped in their efforts by cast mates such as Bus Driver Bob, Manager Jazzmin and Audio Murphy the sound engineer. Bus Driver Bob drives the Doodlebops around in a bus closely resembling the one from Partridge Family. Jazzmin, a large black woman, speaks in "scat" rhymes and can disappear with a snap of the fingers. For a guy with a slightly stocky build, Bus Driver Bob is a pretty agile dancer when they sing "Let's Get on the Bus". The 3 Doodlebops are very skilled dancers also, and do some pretty impressive moves.

I can only imagine how the preschool mind processes this threesome. The men in particular project an androgynous look with their painted faces. Little kids who are still contemplating a pink cheerleader will also have to decide what they think of Rooney's dark blue lipstick and Moe's yellow-orange eyeliner and mascara. Based on the tremendous following, the kids are not bothered. The Doodlebops have already toured Canada and the United States; they've also been featured at Madison Square Garden as part of the Ringling Brother's Barnum and Bailey Circus. Much like the Wiggles, the Doodlebops have enough cross-over appeal to adults that Mom and Dad may enjoy the show as much as their kids.

The Doodlebops usually work in a joke or groan-worthy pun with each show:
Q: What color is a burp?
A: Burple, of course

A: Knock Knock ...
Q: Who's there?
A: Alex.
Q: Alex who?
A: AL-ax all the questions around here!

As you see, there are some deep thoughts here. Each show starts with Moe missing and children in the audience are implored to "Help find Moe". He's usually been made doll-size, magically transported or changed into something unrecognizable. Then, he's magically restored to his regular Moe-size, there on stage. Children will certainly enjoy all the rhymes, riddles and lessons the show presents. And they can carry along the subliminal (and not altogether bad) notion that maybe our world has room for a pink cheerleader, a blue Rooney and an orange Moe. What's that you say? There are no pink, blue or orange people? Well it's all in how you look at it.

© 2007 blogSpotter

Holocaust Revisited

Hungarian Jews at death camp -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
When I think about the Holocaust of World War II, I'm amazed that it happened at all, and that it happened so recently. Something as savage as racial genocide seems archaic -- like something from the Dark Ages. Over 6 million Jews were murdered; a large number of gypsies, Jehovah's Witness, gays, communists and Russian POW's were also gassed. The scale and extent of this operation was enormous; there had to be tacit buy-in and cooperation from millions of German citizens. That any civilized European nation would allow this is absolutely mind-boggling.

This week's TIME magazine has a review of historian Saul Friedlander's new book, The Years of Extermination. In his book, Friedlander illuminates some of the truly sick rationalizations that Nazi officers and leaders employed. In public statements, Hitler suggested that he only wanted Jews to leave -- death would only come to those that didn't comply. Compliance was made impossible when escape routes were closed in 1942 and Jews were rounded up for death camps. SS Commander Himmler felt that the stress of war could be soothed with classical music and thoughts of German spirituality in the evening. Himmler said, with no irony intended, that Jews would create world war and death camps if they ever got their hands on sophisticated weapons. His greatest concern with the death camp operations was that they maintained poor statistics on the inmates' ages and names.

Friedlander's book points out that the death camp operation became a logistical monster all by itself, especially difficult to maintain during world war. Resources that could have served defense purposes (German railroads e.g.) became tied up in the purely evil purpose of genocide. Germany was undone to a very great extent by its anti-Semitic, racist blood-lust. Slightly more German citizens (7 million) lost their lives in the war than the number (6 million) killed in death camps. My own feeling, truth be known is that Germany should not have even been allowed to come back as an autonomous state. That they were torn asunder into 3 occupied territories is the misfortune of a citizenry who hands its country over to a madman and helps him in his mad devastations.

I shudder to say that it could happen again with ease -- Osama Bin Laden is a hero to many Arabs now. He is genocidal in the extreme. The extreme arrogance of various states and religions gives them the false notion that they can do anything to other people. The problem is, you can't and they can't. And as Germany found, the crushing weight of their folly was too much to bear for even a few years.

© 2007 blogSpotter

All Pulped Up

Late Night Double Feature Picture Show -- Picture courtesy Rollins Stone.

by blogSpotter
Over my vacation break, I saw the "must-see" movie of the year -- Grindhouse. Created by Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, Grindhouse is a terrific homage to B-movie exploitation flicks of the 60's and 70's. It's offered as a 2-for-1 double feature, much like you might have at a drive-in or a "grind house" theater showing B-movies at a reduced ticket price. The two movies are only 1 hour 15 minutes in length, interspersed with bogus ads and trailers.

Where to begin? "Planet Terror" gives us a small town invaded by flesh-eating "sickos" -- people who have succumbed to a bizarre virus and turned into zombies with bubbling boils. I won't go into all the details, but suffice it to say that a stripper named Cherry (played by Rose McGowan), who has an automatic machine gun for a prosthetic leg, saves the day at the end of the movie. This week's Rolling Stone magazine features the Grindhouse ladies in its cover story. "Death Proof" gives us Kurt Russell playing totally opposite his usual wholesome hero type. Russell plays a mentally depraved stunt man who seems to get a sexual thrill out of vehicular homicide -- killing women with his car. In this movie, he picks the wrong group of 'bitches' to terrorize -- a trio of stunt women who know how to kick a man's ass without ever uttering the word "victim". There was so much adrenaline flowing at the end of these two movies, I can only imagine that everyone had to go work out their aggressions at the gym after leaving the theater.

What does this movie call to mind? It has Night of the Living Dead, Thelma and Louise, Smokey and the Bandit all as influences. Mix in a little Big, Bad Momma and bring to boil. Voila -- you have the best movie so far this year. To capture the total experience, Tarantino and Rodriguez added cheesy faux film trailers, snack bar commercials, obligatory scratches and lines (mimicking poor quality grind house film stock) and missing reels in a couple of strategic places. When Machete and Thanksgiving trailers were shown, people were practically rolling in the aisles with laughter.

Is there any downside at all to this wonderful film? It was a disappointment on the opening weekend -- only 11.6 million dollars brought in. I figure that's due entirely to its 3 hour length and the fact that theaters can only schedule it for half as many show times. The other drawback could only affect a car enthusiast like me; in the movie, they destroy a Cadillac Eldorado, Chevy Nova, Dodge Charger and Dodge Challenger all from the golden early 70's era. Blasphemy! And yet, as you walk out of the theater you'll be drying your eyes from laughing so much -- maybe the supreme car sacrifice is worth it.

© 2007 blogSpotter

Is Imus a Slimus?

Forgive and Forget? -- Picture courtesy Time Inc.

by blogSpotter
Don Imus has now been exiled from CBS and MSNBC. This is the result of Imus calling the Rutgers women's basketball team "nappy-headed hos". Because of his imprudent words, a deafening furor erupted across the nation; the protest was led by no less than Al Sharpton. Imus' remarks are indefensible, and there's no argument regarding that. There are however some inconsistencies to note, as pointed out by writer Michelle Malkin in yesterday's Dallas Morning News. Sharpton himself has made racially insensitive remarks before, and so has Jesse Jackson; our "hip hop" culture at large has some of the most woman-hating, race-baiting lyrics to be found. Examples are easy to find on Billboard's current hit list. Bow Wow and R. Kelley currently have a hit that talks about "cuffing yo chick". Popular new artist Mims sings, "Nigga gimme some of what you got".

None other than Rosie O'Donnell has pointed out the same basic thing on The View -- hypocrisy and inconsistency abound everywhere. If microphones followed everyone around, there would be way more apologies owed. Rosie and her View cohorts also pointed out that Imus and Anna Nicole completely knocked Iraq and the attorney firings out of the headlines. One beneficiary from all of this news redirection is the Bush Administration.

Now getting back to Imus himself, how can he pull it out of the fire? Or can he? He's made similar apologies before, only to turn around and do it all again. He might consider a couple of the recovery steps taken in 12 Step Programs. 12 Step programs (like Alcoholics Anonymous and Gamblers Anonymous) have a concept of making amends -- it goes deeper than a simple apology. You, the offender, ask the aggrieved person, "How can I make this right? What can I do to make you know I'm sincere?" The remediation offered by these questions is based firmly on the idea that actions speak louder than words.

Mark Cuban, owner of the Dallas Mavericks followed this variation of the Golden Rule after he insulted Dairy Queen in a national broadcast. He knew he had stepped in it. To compensate, Cuban worked as a fry cook at a Texas Dairy Queen for one entire day. It ended up being a win-win -- Cuban and Dairy Queen profited greatly. Imus should make a donation directly to the Rutger's team or their favorite charity. He further should volunteer to be the team's water boy for at least one game, maybe more. It would be fun and funny, most of all a heart-felt amend. These measures might well prove the power of redemption that exists in all of us -- the ability to turn a strong negative into a strong positive.

Does Imus have a deep-seated hatred of Rutgers or blacks in general? Probably not. He was punching up his broadcast to be controversial and went over the line. His sincerest amends, as described above would help to reinforce that idea.


© 2007 blogSpotter

Unintelligent Design

What Would Darwin Do? -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Bruce Chapman and John West are President and Associate Director, respectively at a policy think tank called the Discovery Institute. In today's Dallas Morning News, they question why Darwinists are afraid to debate them -- they are Intelligent Design proponents. I can probably help to shed some light on this, since I have followed an unusual path to my own enlightenment. First of all, let's settle some terms:

Evolution -- Noun. Means 'gradual change'. And that is all it means. It implies no reason why the change happened. People on both sides of the issue have muddied the debate by saying that evolution necessarily means Neo-Darwinist Evolution. It doesn't mean that unless you place the modifier 'Neo-Darwinist' in front of it. You can also have Intelligent Evolution. Example, you say? American automobiles have evolved over decades from the Model T to the Ford Fusion. The change has been mostly gradual, across about 110 years. If you look at junkyards across America, you'll see the fossil evidence of old cars. The 50's might be likened to the Age of Dinosaurs. What caused the change? Intelligent design of course. Teams of highly trained engineers from the nation's best schools designed these cars. Sometimes, as with the 1964 Ford Mustang, we had 'punctuated equilibria' or 'macro mutation' but more typically the changes were gradual and progressive.

God -- Noun. A Higher Power, a superior intelligence. That is all. It doesn't say Jesus. It doesn't say Christian God. Just an unspecified superior intelligence.

Creation -- Noun. Act of creating. It doesn't say when or where or how. It doesn't say Garden of Eden. It just implies that something was created. That could be gradual, over time. It could be the work of many, and it could be the work of a fallible intelligence.

People such as the Creation Science Institute always frame this as a debate between atheists and Christians. Nothing could be sillier or more off-base. No wonder Darwinists don't want to join the debate. They don't want to cede even an inch over to rabid proponents of a particular faith. When I was about 26, I myself determined that there must be a higher power. Prior to that, I was a Darwinian atheist. My epiphany was not a Christian awakening -- it wasn't even connected to any organized religion. Mine was more a logical progression using even some of the logic of Intelligent Design enthusiasts. The likelihood of even advanced proteins happening accidentally is nil.

Until the debate is framed correctly, and the proponents of Intelligent Design can firmly disassociate themselves from witnessing for a particular religion, there will be no meaningful debate. Admittedly, I occupy an almost solitary niche -- the God of my understanding endorses no organized religion. A religious pamphet I picked up tells me that if my God isn't a particular type of religion, that God is by definition the Devil. Well, they say the devil is in the details and it may come to pass after all is said and done -- we'll find that only the Devil has the details.

© 2007 blogSpotter

The Rainbow Tour of Nancy Pelosi

Don't Cry for Her, Argentina -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

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Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi truly stirred the pot last week, with her "Rainbow Tour" to the Middle East. In a superficial way, the trip harks back a bit to Evita Peron. Argentina's Evita Peron took a Rainbow Tour of Europe in 1947, as a diplomatic surrogate of her husband, President Juan Peron. She charmed "the pants" off of Europe with her snazzy outfits and hairdos. There was so much emphasis placed on Peron's style, all substance was ignored. Evita changed to subdued styles when she returned to Buenos Aires -- she truly wanted to be taken seriously as a statesman.

Now Pelosi is not a style maven, though she makes a good appearance. Have to say she has a bit more gravitas than Evita. Last week, she swept thru the Middle East meeting with Syrian President Bashar al-Assad, Saudi Arabia's King Abdullah and even meeting with Israel’s Knesset. In perhaps her most Evita-like moment, the all-male Syrian Advisory Council allowed her to sit in the leader's chair, where she commented that it had a nice view that should be enjoyed by more women. With Syria, she engaged in fact-finding about connections to terrorism. In Israel and Saudi Arabia, she discussed peace initiatives. Her good deed was punished vociferously by American conservatives everywhere.

Is Pelosi's Tour on the Highway to Hell or the Road to Damascus? The Bush team is mortified that anyone would talk to someone who is thought to be funding Hezbollah or Hamas. I think that the jury is still out on this bit of Pelosifying diplomacy. Furthermore, the Bush Administration has lost all credibility and therefore its right to register an opinion. If George W. Bush were actually trying to unhinge the world, he could've done no better than what he's done so far. Syrians have behaved badly, and yet diplomacy is probably the only way we'll find what the Hell they want and what might appease the situation.

In WWII we had such a deficiency in Japanese speakers, we weren't sure if a 1945 message from Japan's Emperor was surrender or a taunt. America in general and the Bush administration in particular are loath to talk to enemies or understand foreign languages. Maybe we need to open up some communication channels -- as a matter of fact, what we don't know will hurt us. I don't know that Pelosi's Tour will clear up very much, but I don't think it will damage much either. I think to a lot of Middle Easterners, a ray of sun has just broken through the clouds.

© 2007 blogSpotter

What His Friends Are Saying

Bush, Blair in 2006 -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
In President Bush's waning days, things could definitely be going better. The 21,000 Iraq surge now has to be bolstered by 13,000 National Guard troops coming from 4 different brigades. They'll serve additional 1 year tours in Iraq. Given all this bolstering, how is the surge working so far? Well, from what I've read it helps suppress violence in troops' immediate locales. Is there an orderly transition to new government or a 'new way of thinking'? Hardly. We've achieved no more than previously, when troop levels were more elevated in Iraq.

Now comes an article by columnist Carl Leubsdorf. It seems that Bush strategist and pollster Matt Dowd is down on Bush. Dowd recently told the New York Times that Bush is a divider, not a uniter. He's ignored all rational input on Iraq and has a take-it-or-leave-it mentality. The Bush spokespeople have attributed Dowd's negativity to personal problems -- a difficult divorce, and death of an infant daughter. Also, his young adult son is about to pack off to Iraq. Dowd admits to the problems, but says they actually help to inform his opinion of Bush from the standpoint of husband and father. Dowd says that California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger sets a much better example for electable, reasonable Republicans than Bush does.

Leubsdorf further reports more 'slams' in the Book of Bush Slams. Conservative activist Vic Gold is a friend of Bush's father, Bush 41. Gold has come out with a book entitled Invasion of the Party Snatchers: How the Holy-Rollers and the Neo-Cons Destroyed the GOP. Gold is appalled by W. Bush and describes him as 'Dan Quayle in cowboy boots'. He further describes him as a weak link, and the most out-of-touch president in modern times.

To people who voted for Bush in 2004, I can only query "Are you glad you voted for him?” Be honest. I know you had the bumper sticker that said "W -- I can't wait to vote for him again". Sometimes we buy a lemon -- seventeen warranty repairs won't fix what's wrong. I haven't even seen a GOP nominee that approaches the nasty close-minded divisiveness of W. Bush, so I'm feeling a bit more optimistic about 2008, no matter which party wins. We’ve had other Presidents that varied from mediocre to bad. Carter gave us inflation and sky high interest rates, and yet the problems of his administration cleared away like a summer storm. You might credit Reagan for part of that, and you might also say that nothing under Carter’s watch was such a mess that it couldn’t be cleaned up with a little elbow grease and a change in policy wonks. Iraq? That may just be a gift that keeps on giving, and we’ll know who to thank for it.

© 2007 blogSpotter

The Killer Wa Wa

Fierce things come in small packages -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I don't usually do personal material but feel inspired today. I grew up as an Air Force brat in a somewhat dysfunctional family. Won't go into the details of all that dysfunction -- it would be a lot of blog pages. We were a family at odds with each other; let's just leave it at that. The family was not so loveable, so we needed a surrogate love object. We invested a lot of love in the family pet, a chihuahua named Sugar. Sugar lived a long, happy life from roughly 1968-1985. She expired while taking a nap in the backyard, in the sun -- I can think of no better way to go.

In her younger years, Sugar was extremely active and well, volatile. "Sugar" is a misnomer because she was black, and she wasn't sweet. As it tends to be with toy dogs, Sugar was very territorial of house and car; she was also fiercely loyal and devoted to her family. Back in the days prior to self-service gasoline, Sugar would bark furiously at the Texaco attendant. She would stand on the rear dash of the Impala and bang her head against the rear window -- so intent was she on barking at the attendant. How dare he come near the car? If he actually came to the driver's window with a clipboard/receipt, Sugar's bark would accelerate to a frothy snarl and she would try to bite the Texaco man or his Bic pen. My mother would have to hold back the raging animal.

At home, it was no better. Sugar was all of 5 pounds and in attack mode all she might do is nip at the ankles of a blind-sided Avon lady. Some people would laugh but most people were terrified, even men wearing cowboy boots. Something about a maniacal black fur ball headed at your feet inspires fear. We knew she had these behavioral issues, so we'd scoop up the 5 pounds of fury and throw her into the master bedroom, closing the door. She would go to attack mode anytime the doorbell rang, so that was our cue to put her into bedroom quarantine. When the Avon lady left, it was our duty to let her back out.

I was only 15 and rather bored. I was too old for toys and too young for anything else. Therefore letting Sugar out of the bedroom was something I always volunteered to do. I would take last week's issue of TIME and slide it under the door, back and forth. It would come back with incredible canine tooth marks and slashes. What kind of ravening beast would do such a thing? I was horrified. Then, I would drum my fingers up and down the door. One can only imagine what was happening in the mind of a 7 year old chihuahua. She could just picture it in her dog's imagination -- an army of Avon ladies in the entrance foyer. All of them were wearing sandals and sling-backs; they had bare ankles needing to be attacked. How dare these people with facial products and moisturizers invade our house? It was an outrage.

At length, I would open the door and say "Kill, kill!" The furious fur ball would run into the foyer. The hair on her back was ruffled, her tail was in a crescent arch and her ears were erect. She would sometimes slide on the throw rug, into the door. She would huff around for about 5 minutes, checking behind couches and chairs to make sure all the invaders were eradicated. "The Avon menace has been subdued" I'm sure she was thinking. We never retrained her or very much reprimanded her for the bad, huffy behavior. I have to figure that my drumming on the bedroom door didn't help much either. These are the childhood memories I must confront -- the would-be killer 'wa wa' and all the havoc she wreaked. I've had pets since then, all of them better behaved. Somehow, it's not the same.

Chihuahuas are fun -- that's all there is to it.

© 2007 blogSpotter