Reasons for Hope, Part 2

I just flashed by Keith Olberman on MSNBC, who had none other than--Kos! Gatherer of the Progressive Tribes! Chancellor of Blogofascism Ground Zero! providing the analysis. And I was tickled and touched. The mover of mountains, who is making the Democratic Establishment crap its power suits in fear, is a kid! A wonk! The least-slick political mover & shaker I've ever siin on TV! And did I mention....he's just a baby!!! Mark my words, if people like him are going to carry the political banner for people like me, progressivism is in fine hands.

Voice of the Rabble

Whether or not you agree with Ned Lamont's politics, I think one thing is indisputable: Joe Lieberman was one fat and happy U. S. Senator. You can tell he figured he'd phone in another campaign and no one except little old Jewish ladies and his big pharma/insurance/bank/defense donors would pay the slightest bit of attention. How? By the fact that he was caught 100% flat-footed by Ned Lamont's guerilla campaign. Future Political Science dissertations will be written on how Lieberman managed to blow as sure a Senate seat as you can find, but I'll bet they find the crux of the matter is that Joe had nobody on the ground. Joe didn't even have anybody thinking about being on the ground. By the time it was time to put the foot soldiers in action, he was 10 points down. He deserved to lose just for stupidity and complacency, let alone his French-kissing the Prez and sticking the shiv into his own party at every oppoertunity.

And one thing more: Lamont may have won by less than four points. But he knocked off a U. S. Senator that typically got 60% of the general election votes and had for the past 18 years. And Lamont did so in the primary. That's a hell of lot bigger a victory than anyone (including, apparently, the less-than-gracious loser) in the Liberal Media is likely to realize or concede.

What I'm Listening To

Michael Franti & Spearhead, Cry Fire (Anti) Propaganda's pretty out-front as usual, but Franti seems to have taken care of the music this time out with significant help from Sly & Robbie. In a just world, this one would blow up huge.

Lori Carson, The Finest Thing (self-released) The Golden Palominos' best, most heartfelt singer releases and album (like much of her music) about reaching out for love and spiritual uplift after huge emotional losses. This album is like David Crosby's first: saturated with grief, a third of the songs are just voices singing wordlessly over hushed, beautiful guitars. Not for parties, but perfect for dark nights of the soul.

Mark Goes To the Movies (So You Don't Have To)

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (dir. Gore Verbinski) It goes on for freaking ever, but (mega)producer Jerry Bruckheimer has never been one to use an economical 60-second sequence where a 20-minute extravanganza will do. The story stops making sense maybe ten minutes into this (140-minute+) opus, but that's probably not why you go to see it. You go to see it because Johnny Depp is hilarious and Keira Knightly is hot and the computer graphics are great. And because it goes on for freaking ever, which is a good thing if you'd rather be inside an air conditioned theater than out in 100+-degree heat. Mark's review (stupid points): ???

Mark Goes to the Movies (So You Don't Have To)

Miami Vice (dir. Michael Mann) What a letdown. Speaking as a semi-major fan of Heat, The Insider, and Collateral, I was looking forward to this film. What I got was Colin Farrell reprising his Dark, Intense Glower from Ask the Dust (and Alexander), Jamie Foxx scowling a lot, and a lot of lousy reprises of better sequences from other Michael Mann movies (especially the amazing shootout sequence from Heat). And also Gong Li, completely wasted (but ravishingly beautiful as ever) in her part as a Cuban-Chinese gangster-money manager and Elizabeth Rodriguez (crazy director Robert's sister!) as a completely kick-ass Puerto Rican cop. At least she has a bright future ahead. Mark's review (stupid points): ??

A Scanner Darkly (dir. Richard Linklater) In Waking Life, Linklater used rotoscoping (animation based on the characters' movements and conversation as recorded on video) to suggest the fluid, dreamlike aspects of human identity as discussed and embodied by characters from many of his other movies. His new film is the nightmare side of the fantasy world, based on a novel by Philip K. Dick (the most popular sci-fi author of the past 20 years for movie adaptations) about a near-future dystopia (Orange County, California!) where 20% of the population is hooked on a drug with close resemblances to crystal meth (produced by an organization that runs, what do you know, a group of drug rehab clinics) and everyone is under constant surveillance. I've never read Dick's work but I've heard that paranoia is his great theme, and the complex web of drug-fueled betrayals comes scarily alive in the animated bits: hallucinations of bugs crawling over people's skins, removable suits that constantly shift physical characteristics (so, say, undercover cops can operate without perps being able to identify them). It's a really dark fantasy, but a really potent one. And Linklater gets good performances out of animated versions of Keanu Reeves as an addicted undercover cop, long-MIA Winona Ryder as his connection/girlfriend, Woody Harrelson and Rory Cochrane as tweakers, and Robert Downey Jr. (who knows this world at first hand) as a would-be snitch. Mark's review: ****