Flaming Lips and the survival of man

So I'm seeing out '06 by seeing the Flaming Lips, Gnarls Barkley, and Cat Power at the new USC Galen Center. The show should be remarkable. The single most transcendant show I've ever been to was a Flaming Lips concert a few years back at the Palladium (I think?) here in L.A. It was a religious experience with Wayne Coyne as the world's hippest evangelist. A truly memorable show and one of the best results of my New Year's resolution of a few years ago to see more live music. In the past few years I've been lucky enough to see live, and mainly in smaller venues - Arctic Monkeys, Art Brut, Franz Ferdinand, Cat Power, Damien Rice, Gomez, Elvis Costello at the Mayan, Elvis Costello and Burt Bachrach, Mew, Aimee Mann, The Mountain Goats, Silver Mount Zion, Silver Jews, Stuart Staples (Tindersticks), and many others. Many others. Upcoming shows include Steven Malkmus and the Jicks, and Paul Weller. I wish I'd seen the Clash and the Jam live but I did get to see Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros where I was not the oldest person in the crowd, thank you very much, and I will see Paul Weller and yes, he'll play some Jam songs and I will be happy. Music matters. And in today's New York Times there's an article about music and survival. Why are we able to recognize songs after two notes, sometimes one note? What is the reason for this ability that adds to our chances for survival? Or better yet, what about this ability to recognize Brown Sugar after one note will increase our chances to mate successfully? Isn't every adaptation about survival or sex? Did Justin Timberlake really bring the sexy back or, as Prince said, "sexy never left"? I think we are the music. The human heart sets the beat. Our voices add the melody. And all the other sounds we make - grunts, burps, yelps, help out with the rhythm. So with our own minds and bodies not just calling the tune, but being the tune, we recognize Brown Sugar after one note because it is already in us. That note has been played over and over again, starting not in the womb, but hardwired into our genes as if we were the MePod before we were hooked up to the IPod. Who knew that the phrase "music of the spheres" would refer to the two hemispheres of the brain? So tonight I'll hear Cat and Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse and the Flaming Lips and my brain and my heart and my body will react because even if I've never heard some of the songs before, I have heard them before. And I will hear them forever. Music matters.

The New York Football Giants

Okay, I've been living and dying with the Giants since Del Shofner dropped an easy touchdown pass in the '63 championship game against the Bears. The Bears were quarterbacked by Rudy Bukich. This is the Bears before Butkus, before Sayers, and long before the 46 defense. Rudy Bukich???!!!! I say this because tonight I watched the Giants try to give a game away to the what, 5-10 Redskins and their quarterback, Rudy Bukich, I mean Jason Campbell. Here are my thoughts on the now playoff-bound Giants:
Eli Manning is the Kid from Deliverance. Yes, the Kid from Deliverance who sat on the porch, just a pickin' and a grinnin'. Even that grin showed more affect, more character, more life, than Eli has shown. Your QB has to inspire. Your QB has to lead. Your QB has to have some body language, some facial expressions, some personality that the other players can feed off. Your QB cannot have slumped shoulders before he even throws the ball (unless you are Joe Willie Namath), a noted lack of shine and sparkle in his eyes, and after the Giants ran the ball on 3rd and 7 or so prior to giving the ball back to the Redskins late in the 4th quarter with the game on the line, rather than trust their franchise quarterback to throw strongly and accurately, your QB must have the confidence of the coaches and his teammates. I am ready for the Jared Lorenzen Era to begin. He went to Kentucky. He was in classes with lots of Kids from Deliverance.
Now, about the second half non-existent pass rush. Oh, and the pass coverage skills of #25 for the Giants, Sam Madison. Sam must think that being in the general area as the receiver is considered good coverage. Now we all know that guys become defensive backs because their hands aren't good enough for them to be receivers. But doesn't this mean they have some idea as to what receivers do? Sam, and the other Giant DB's and safeties don't have a clue.
Can someone with speed take a kickoff for the Giants and head upfield? With all the time spent timing guys in the 40, surely the Giants have someone who can return a kickoff and run fast, maybe even to their own 40? R.W.McQuarters? Isn't this the guy who had a hit years ago with "On the Road to Shambala"? Whoever that guy was, he should be returning kicks for the Giants. He couldn't do worse.
Opposing coaches listen up - on offense, whoever lines up on the right side, just run to a spot 12 to 14 yards downfield and curl in. The Giants will form a proteective cup of three defensive backs, safeties, and maybe even a linebacker. But none closer than 3-5 yards. It is open every down and will continue to be so. And the Giants have yet to stop it. And amazingly, they have yet to try it when they are on offense. In an era when announcers fall over themselves over "the double move!!!" (hey folks, we ran the down, out and up in the schoolyard 40 years ago. And I'm sure they ran it and plays like it before that. "Double move?!" Just shut up.) the Giants have less imagination than, dare I say it, the Kid from Deliverance. The real one. Not Eli.
I feel it is my duty as a Giant fan and an American to thank Giants fans for their equal opportunity when it comes to asking for coaches removal. I was there for the "Goodbye, Allie" chants of the 60s and I watched the "Fire Coughlin" chants of the past few weeks. Allie Sherman was Jewish. Tom Coughlin is a proud Catholic. Both had some success but fell into the funk of failure. I think it is clear. Mr. Tisch, Mr. Mara, the next coach of the Giants should be, must be, Muslim. Ahmad Rashad? Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam)? That new Congressman from Minnesota? At least after another heartbreaking, non-imaginative loss we don't have to blame the QB or the DB's or the lack of a pass rush or the coaching and the stale playcalling. We can simply call it what it is - the will of Allah.
Having said all this, Go Blue!

Why I Have No Tapes of Shows I Wrote

My mother used to ask me why I had no tapes (this is back in the VHS days, kids) of the shows I worked on, episodes I wrote, series I consulted on. 20 years of television and they put me on the dayshift. But I digress. Because for me it wasn't the episodes, it really was the process. The table was the show. 10 to 12 highly paid writer-producers around a table eating expensive take-out and spending more time with each other than with real loved ones at home, that was what I wanted tapes of. The lines that were pitched, the performances trying to sell a joke or story line, that's what mattered. The days after shows aired the staff would sit for hours picking apart the episode. I would read the trades and when asked why I wasn't taking part, didn't I watch the show last night - I'd say that I already watched it the week we taped it and fixed it and rewrote it. And the days before that we spent breaking the story and creating the big beats. I had kids, for God's sake. I wanted more time with them, not more time with 22 minutes of something for folks as Michael Moye of Married with Children (the single greatest show-runner of all time!) called "either drunk or in jail by the act break". So no, I don't have tapes. I have great memories. And friends. So comedy has always been very important to me. Comedy matters. There's a reason Jews and Blacks created American comedy. Real, meaningful comedy comes from the bottom up. And it deals directly with sex and relationships and politics and race. Habaeus Corpus has been taken away and we get Dane Cook. Work it, Dane. Just don't be surprised when they put you in the cattle car along with us. Anyway, for the past few years, the funniest people in the world have been English - for a while a few years back it was Eddie Izzard, especially in the Dressed to Kill years. Smarter, faster, funnier, balls-out (or tucked, the better to fit into one of his flattering ensembles) comedy at its best. High schools would have higher retention and graduation rates if they used Eddie's take on world history. And after him it was Ricky Gervais. David Brent, The Office manager, shows us all what it means to be desparate for love and attention. Over and over again. But for the past few years, the title of FPITW has gone to one man who plays three men, (Borat, Bruno, and Ali G) and he makes me laugh harder and deeper and more sustained than anyone ever. Sascha Baron Cohen, you are the true heir to Mark Twain and Oscar Wilde, and Groucho Marx and Lord Buckley, and everyone who has ever tried to combine comedy and smart, scratching our skin and making us reveal the real truth buried in those other layers. Here at home, Chris Rock and Sarah Silverman do great work combining comedy and brains. They both understand that if you're not talking about sex and race, you're not talking about anything. Thanks for a great 2006 (Borat and Jesus is Magic and The Aristocrats) and looking forward to more great things in the future. Back from Lone Pine and Mammoth and picture taking. Football weekend and then Yosemite. Happy 2007, folks.

The headlines read Ford Funeral -

and all I keep thinking about is that's the worst name i've ever heard for a new car. no wonder the american auto business sucks. if there's an american who deserves a state funeral it is james brown. i just want to hear the preacher use all his names - Goodbye, the hardest working man in show business. Jesus welcomes mr. please, please himself. Open up the pearly gates for the godfather of soul. Come sit at the right hand of god, soul brother number one. i loved james. i used to think that criminals would think twice about committing any crime if the punishment was having to touch james's hair after a performance. and do you get the feeling that as james felt he was leaving he'd reach out for maceo or bobby byrd (brother bobby byrd to some) and they'd put the cape on him and tell him to head on over to the other side and james would nod and breathe a little shallower...and then as his vital signs kept fading he'd throw off the cape and scream and say "no, I wanna live", and this would go on two or three more times until he finally passed away? james quotes we should all know: "L.A.? I know you went to L.A. on a Greyhound and came back on a stray dog." "Maceo, can you take me to the bridge?" "Hit me!" "The main reason why we mens love hot pants? Because what you see is what you get! Hit me!" (What I wouldn't give for a politician who punctuated his/her statements on policy with a quick screaming "Hit me!" and then had a back-up band that went into a funky riff.) So long James. As you used to say, it's a new day so let a man come in and do the popcorn. amen to that.

Ford Pardons Nixon!!!

So the papers and the blogs are filled with how history will judge Gerald Ford. Here's how - He was a cipher who denied America and the world a lesson in democracy and civics by pardoning an ex-President who should have gone on trial for his crimes. There's a direct line from the pardon of Nixon to the boorish, yahoo behavior of Bush the Lesser. Had Nixon gone to trial perhaps future leaders of America would have thought twice before embarking on their cowboy antics. And never forget, the only man who voted for Gerald Ford was that same disgraced Nixon. Or as I like to call him, "Richard Nixon, the only man ever to resign as President of the United States." Any time we can push that spike deeper in Nixon's dusty heart, we should do it.
With the year waning I thought I'd mention my bests for the year:
Book - The Road by Cormac McCarthy. I didn't think anything could be as brutal and beautifully written as his Blood Meridian, but The Road is post-apocalyptic fiction at its best and most brutal. It also has my favorite line of the year - "When he went back to the fire he knelt and smoothed her hair as she slept and he said if he were God he would have made the world just so and no different." Perfect. I've thought about the four women in my life I could've said that about. Each time it makes me smile. Perfect.
Movie - Children of Men. Hmmm, a theme here? Post-apocalyptic future? What a movie. Cuaron is a genius. And his Mexican compatriots, Del Toro (Pan's Labyrinth is a close second) and Inarittu (Babel, amazingly compelling) are simply the best and most challenging directors working in movies today.
Music - Kids in America by The Hold Steady. Literate, writerly, poetic. If you like words to go with your power chords, this is the music for you. Lots of words.
Artist - Zak Smith. A remarkable sense of color, his love for women jumps off the page. And I don't own a piece of his. New Year's Resolution - Must get piece by Zak Smith. Hopefully a piece from 100 Women, 100 Octopuses. What a great name for a show. What great pictures.
TV Show - Countdown with Keith Olbermann. The conscience of a nation, Keith loves democracy and Fred Merkle. How's that for the world's lamest personal ad. But God, is he good. I've loved him since he was part of the best twosome ever on ESPN when he teamed with Dan Patrick. Compare Keith with the frat-boy fatuousness of Stewart Scott, who BTW, is as uncool as the side of the pillow we sleep on. Booyah! that!
Magazine - The Believer. If they just published the two-page charts I'd buy the magazine. But each month renews my faith in good writing. I remain a Believer. Juxtapoz is right up there for me. But ease up on the tattoos and the tikis. There are those of us who don't need sleeves or Chinese characters on our necks to make a statement. And tikis? Pacific-Islanders don't even like tikis. Trader Vic likes Tikis. Been to Trader Vic's lately? Oh, not 85? Ohhhh....
Quote - War is over if you want it. (Since we're trying to live up to Cormac McCarthy's fiction, this quote works every year. Sadly.)
Write if you get work.

Xmas 2006 - The Blog that keeps on giving

I'd been threatening to start a blog for years. I read Americablog, DailyKos, Huffington Post and Crooks and Liars religiously to keep up-to-date on politics with a southpaw slant. I love them all. I read fiction and non-fiction, along with hard copies of the New York Times, Los Angeles Times, the New Yorker, the New York Review of Books, The Believer, Juxtapoz, and the Times Literary Supplement (among others). The world of books and ideas is a second home. I see live music at least twice a month and I buy Cds rather than rip songs because I want the cover art and the lyrics in one place. I belong to four local museums and support live theater. I collect no-brow art and illustration, and early 20th century graphic art. I have strong opinions. Hopefully based on something I know something about. Dante puts people without opinions in their own circle of hell. I'm not worried about hell. I live in Los Angeles.
The blog gets its title from a line in Tom Stoppard's "The Coast of Utopia", a trilogy about 19th century Russian intellectual life. "Art, and the summer lightning of individual happiness: these are the only real goods we have." I agree. I was going to call it Only Connect, after that great quote from E.M. Forster - "Only Connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer. Only connect, and the beast and the monk, robbed of the isolation that is life to either, will die." I love that quote as well. But a blog can pretty much be defined as life in fragments. Couldn't have my blog's name seemingly contradict its source. Sorry, E.M. Tom wins.
So much for the serious. The blog will also be funny. For every hero of mine who's named Jefferson or Twain or Wilde or Lennon, there are others named Groucho Marx and Lenny Bruce and Richard Pryor and Bill Hicks.
Hope I read you around the quad.
Thanks.
And Happy Xmas. War is over if you want it.