Benno Fürmann and Florian Lukas play two purportedly good-natured but nonetheless EXTREME!! Bavarian bumpkins who tried on Germany’s behalf to conquer the so-called “murder wall” of Switzerland’s Eiger mountain in 1936. Well, it was either that or cleaning Wehrmacht latrines — and what if one of the climbers had extra moral support from a reluctant party-line photojournalist (Johanna Wokalek) who used to be his girlfriend? Throwing in these complications plus Ulrich Tukur as an allegorically callous newspaper editor, Director Philipp Stölzl and his handful of co-screenwriters seem to confuse and distract themselves, and us, by positing old-school mountaineering as both tragic index of and retrospective rebuke to burgeoning Third Reich nationalism. “Because it’s there” might have sufficed as reason enough, especially with cinematographer Kolja Brandt rendering the it so palpably there. With knuckles alternately white from suspense and black from frostbite, the alpinists get progressively harder to tell apart. But the most compelling character, for all its brutal enormity, always was the mountain.

Drink whenever Randy says, “For me.”

Drink whenever Randy says, “For you.”

Chug if he uses both in the same sentence (as in: “For me, dawg, for you — hmm… — for me — for you — it was just ok.”)

Drink whenever Kara says, “The thing I love about you…”

Drink if the thing Kara loves is that the contestant knows who he/she is.

Drink whenever Ellen makes a joke that isn’t funny.

Drink whenever “Short Stack” Seacrest is dwarfed by a female contestant.

Drink whenever Kara gets a girl-boner over a male contestant under the age of 25.

Drink twice when she gets a girl-boner over a male contestant under the age of 20.

Drink whenever Simon chides Kara for her pedophilic tendencies.

Drink if Randy thinks Simon’s chiding is funny.

Drink if Randy expresses his enjoyment of Simon’s chiding by saying, “Dog.” (or “Dawg.) (Or, my personal favorite, “Sime-dawg.”)

Drink if Ellen is too busy trying to come up with her next zinger to notice what’s going on around her.

Drink if a contestant is, “Pitchy.”

Drink if a contestant isn’t, “Pitchy,” but does have some, “Pitch problems.”

Drink if a contestant does or doesn’t have the wow factor.

Or is, “Hot!”

Or is, “A bit karaoke.”

Drink if he/she makes the wrong song choice.

Drink if he/she makes the right song choice, but just, “I don’t know, just, I mean, it just, for me wasn’t quite…good song choice but…for me…you know what I’m saying…?”

[i.e. Drink when Randy is inarticulate]

Drink when Randy references the fact that he used to play bass with Journey.

Drink when you picture Randy , afro’d (sort of), eyes closed, thumping away on “Don’t Stop Believin’” under the lights in front of screaming thousands.

Drink triple if this image turns you on.

Drink quadruple if Kara turns you on. Then shoot yourself.

Ditto for Simon.

Ditto for Seacrest.

Drink if when you read the last one you thought, “But Seacrest is objectively attractive.” He isn’t. Drink again.

Drink whenever Kara says something completely idiotic and Simon gives her this look like, “Seriously?” then attempts to cut her down with some idiomatic British phrase that Kara doesn’t understand, and which “Short Stack” interprets as vague homoerotic innuendo towards him, thus prompting him to say something like, “Whoa,” and Simon, to say, “Ryan…” and Randy to laugh though he doesn’t know what he’s laughing at, and Ellen to take this moment to add even more hair gel while Kara is under the table attempting to fellate Simon, who, unfortunately, left his penis backstage along with his testicles, and -unfortunately - his chest hair trimmer, so all that’s left is the beast of a Brit, ball-less, looking for any excuse to cut anyone down, albeit hilariously (sometimes), and Randy “The Dawg” howling into the stage lights (he thinks they’re the moon), and Ellen cracking wise, and Kara sucking the tip of Simon’s belt because she’s confused and, let’s face it, pilled out or drunk, so FOX cuts to a commercial break…

from prettyontheoutside.typepad.com

This game is not for the weak of liver.

Other notes:

-Why was Ellen pawing Simon like she’s the Fonz parked on lover’s lane? This is the kind of obvious joke (because she’s a lesbian, get it?) Ellen is good for.

-Katie Stevens did her best to be “younger” by singing a Kelly Clarkson song. She wasn’t great. Neither was the song, though, apparently, it’s one of Randy’s, “Favorite songs ever written in the modern time of today.” (Drink.) I’m still trying to parse this syntax.

-The judges kept telling Katie she doesn’t know what kind of artist she wants to be. She does know - she wants to be a sexy but subtle R+B singer - but the judges want her to be something different because 17 year-old white girls aren’t supposed to be sexy, subtle, or R+B singers.

-Siobhan Magnus is so weird! She reminds me of a someone talking about groovy music and free love, in a 60’s documentary about the counterculture. Really great voice though. A bit screamy at times but, quirky as she is, she probably does more classic AI-style belting than most of this season’s contestants.

-Ellen, on “House of the Rising Sun”: “I’m from New Orleans, I know that house?”

What? Is that even a joke? Who’s writing this stuff?

-Everyone seems to like Siobhan except Simon, who doesn’t get it. I usually agree with Simon and disagree with the other judges, so I’m a bit confused here. The truth is, I think Simon is a little square for the freaky Siobhan. He’s only interested in commercial potential, and Siobhan definitely doesn’t have it.

-Lacey Brown hasn’t been doing a very good job so far, but I think her biggest problem is the number of intense close-ups of her face during her performances. Not that she’s ugly or anything, I just feel like I’ve spent half of season 9 looking up Lacey Brown’s nostrils. Idol’s not her thing. She’d be better singing late night in some  Hollywood bar, the kind of singer you like because you’re on your 5^th tequila and she keeps winking at you like she wants to take you into the bathroom after the show and do her real Stevie Nicks impersonation. Which is to say: her sexuality might be a little forward for Idol.

-Surprisingly, the judges seemed to like Lacey this week. Simon even made a comment about how she’s always looking at the right places for the camera.

-Speaking of forward sexuality/outright ho-iness, am I the only the only one who finds Katelyn Epperley ridiculously attractive? I think the real Lacey is probably more of a tease, whereas Ep would actually go home with you.  Pure speculation. And by you, I mean me. And by me, I mean me at a time in my life before I’d met my beautiful, wonderful girlfriend who is reading this column right now and thinking of ways to poison me.  Or else she’s having sex dreams about Tim Robbins (long story) and not paying attention to a word I’m saying/writing.

-Not Ep’s  best performance this week with Carol King’s “I feel the Earth Move.” She should have listened to the Blind Melon version. Judges were haters. Kind of agree, but I hope she makes the next round.

-Would anyone object to Kara putting a paper bag over her head for the duration of the show? Not that she’s even ugly (though her girl-trying-on-mom’s-makeup-look and soulless bug eyes leave much to be desired) but at least the bag might muffle her talking.

-Didi Benami! Yes! First of all-great song choice, and she didn’t hack it up! Never heard an acoustic “Rhiannon” before. I’d download this on Itunes. (In fact, I think I will - a first for American Idol!) Second, Didi is something hot! She gives off the “I’m a cute sexy waitress next door, but don’t think for a second I don’t have a dirty side that you, poor boy at home with your laptop, will never have the chance to admire” - vibe. You know someone’s a true star when you see them and know they would never have sex with the likes of  you. And by you I mean you, not me.

-Know who isn’t hot or a good singer or at all interesting - Paige Miles. Seriously. If she doesn’t go home I’ll be upset, because - believe it or not - I actually like all the other female contestants.

-Bowersox is back again! I said enough about her last week. This week not quite as jawdropping, but really, really excellent.

-Loved Lily Scott on mandolin. She’s great, and she won’t win, or even come close. This is a shame. On the bright side, she might have a career. Judges were right though — this wasn’t a showstopping last song. Bowersox is a tough act to follow.

For more of my madness, follow me on twitter @bubblesdepot

]]> http://thefastertimes.com/blog/2010/03/10/american-idol-drinking-game-plus-notes-from-last-nights-episode/feed/ http://thefastertimes.com/blog/2010/03/10/unmanned-warfare-brings-the-future-into-focus/ http://thefastertimes.com/blog/2010/03/10/unmanned-warfare-brings-the-future-into-focus/#comments Wed, 10 Mar 2010 17:58:32 +0000 Daniel Darling http://thefastertimes.com/blog/2010/03/10/unmanned-warfare-brings-the-future-into-focus/

For the unmanned military systems often referred to as “drones” or “robots” the future is now. Today there are around 50 countries investing in the research, development and purchase of unmanned systems in order to add them to the fabric of their armed forces. The utility of unmanned systems has become readily apparent to military commanders during this era of irregular warfare, with their usage spreading to operational theaters as diverse as Afghanistan, Gaza, Georgia, Iraq, Lebanon, Pakistan, Sudan and Yemen.

Among the heaviest investors in unmanned platforms are the U.S. and Israel - two countries that have engaged in difficult theaters where intelligence-gathering and reconnaissance have proven invaluable for troops on the ground.

Though it had only a smattering of unmanned aerial drones on the eve of the Iraq invasion in 2003, today the U.S. has nearly 7,000 aerial drones in its military inventory, plus another 12,000 ground robots. Israeli industry is developing some 40 different unmanned aerial systems and Ministry of Defense labs are exploring innovative concepts for ground systems.

The most famous unmanned system currently in American service is the Air Forces’ MQ-1 Predator Medium-Altitude Long-Endurance (MALE) unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV), which is primarily utilized for surveillance but can also be outfitted with laser-guided missiles such as the AGM-114 Hellfire for use in targeted air strikes.

The Predator and its newer and larger relation, the MQ-9 Reaper, have seen increasing usage in the Afghan and Pakistan theaters, which in turn has elicited debate in the intelligence community as to the practicality of drone attacks in counterinsurgency operations. While no one disputes the value of these UAVs in providing useful intelligence to ground troops via video feeds, questions have been raised as to whether such air strikes create a negative perception of U.S. tactics amongst civilian populations, therefore helping fuel the very insurgencies American forces hope to quell.

This discussion aside, the U.S. Air Force has come to accept that UAVs are a crucial tool for modern combat operations. Evidence of the service’s transformation became apparent in 2009 when it trained more pilots for operating unmanned aerial systems than for manned fighter and bomber aircraft. Under its 30-year “Aircraft Investment Plan” the Air Force is planning on the $820 million purchase of 372 MQ-9 Reapers during the period between 2011 and 2018, plus some 60-odd RQ-4 Global Hawks. Overall, from 2008 through 2013 the Pentagon expects to invest more than $16 billion on the development and purchase of unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs).

For their part, the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) have been utilizing UAVs in combat since 1982 when they first used them against Syrian air defenses in Lebanon. Faced with a complex operational environment involving a blend of urban combat and guerilla warfare, the Israelis have invested heavily in unmanned platforms and as a result are considered pioneers in the field. Led by Elbit Systems and Israel Aerospace Industries (IAI), the Israeli defense industry has witnessed its UAV exports explode in the past decade, with clients such as Georgia, India, Poland, Turkey, and even Russia scrambling to get their hands on the platforms.

But it is for the purpose of outfitting their own forces that Israeli industry places its greatest emphasis on developing unmanned systems. The Israel Air Force recently declared its Heron TP high-altitude long-endurance (HALE) UAV (referred to as “Eitan” in Israeli service) to be operational. The 5-ton Eitan is capable of operating above 40,000 feet and remaining airborne for 24- to 36-hour periods. It will serve as one of the principal platforms in the Israel Air Force’ UAV squadrons, along with the mid-size, long-endurance Hermes 450 (”Zik”) and the Heron-1 (”Shoval”).

In addition, Israeli ground forces battalions will be receiving 100 Skylark 1 LE mini-UAVs produced by domestic manufacturer Elbit Systems under a $40 million contract extended by the Israeli Ministry of Defence under its “Sky Raider” program. The Skylark mini-UAVs have also been procured by countries such as Australia, Canada, France and Sweden.

Not content simply with unmanned aerial systems, the Israelis are increasingly utilizing unmanned ground systems such as the Guardium ground vehicle and the “Dawn Thunder” Caterpillar D9 bulldozer for operations in mine-laden areas and clearing improvised explosive devices (IEDs).

While the Israelis forge ahead in terms of land-based unmanned alternatives, the U.S. and U.K. are the leaders in the research and development of unmanned underwater vehicles (UUVs). Both countries are putting more and more emphasis on UUVs for harbor surveillance, submarine detection and mine-clearance purposes.

The boon in development, procurement and usage of unmanned systems is a reflection of their practicality within the battle-space. For instance, unmanned aerial systems serve as an effective force multiplier, enhancing the stand-off attack capabilities of the forces who wield them while also providing “over the hill” surveillance and real-time intelligence feeds. These systems also reduce the risk of friendly casualties, be they pilots in the air or soldiers on the ground. Unmanned aerial drones can loiter in the air longer than jet aircraft which rely upon the physical endurance of the fighter pilot. Finally, UAVs are a cost-effective alternative to expensive combat aircraft - though for now they remain a supplement to, and not a replacement for, jet fighters.

But with the positive factors also come negatives. These include the vulnerability of UAVs to signal-jamming, video feed hacking, and integrated air-defenses. The latter is of particular importance as American and Israeli drone operations have yet to confront robust air-defense networks where their UAVs lack of countermeasures renders them defenseless against enemy fire. There are also ethical concerns involving the use of unmanned systems. Governments may be led to believe that their use in the stand-off attack role shields them from public opprobrium since their own soldiers’ lives are not directly placed at risk. This in turn might lead to more liberalized use of drone strikes under the false assumption that these attacks carry with them few adverse consequences, such as unintended civilian casualties.

Despite these negatives, the pursuit of unmanned military systems from all corners has gone from a trickle to a flood. Most ominously, non-state actors have gotten into the game as illustrated by Hezbollah’s use of Iranian-made Mirsad-1 UAVs to penetrate Israeli airspace. Through the experience of their own operations in Afghanistan, NATO members have recognized the benefit of unmanned systems and have scrambled to outfit their deployable forces with them. Russia, too, has learned from battlefield experience, and after its brief war with Georgia in August 2008 the Russian military purchased 12 Israeli systems and is seeking a further 100 UAVs.

While the U.S. and Israel have been at the forefront of unmanned warfare so far, the gap between the haves and the have nots is shrinking. As that gap shrinks what was heralded only a few years ago as the wave of the future in military operations has suddenly become a practical tool for the wars of today.

Photo by The U.S. Army.

In an age of ballooning obesity, it’s hard to swallow the fact that gluttony is now an official sport. The professional “gladiators of the esophagus” are represented by The IFOCE (International Federation of Competitive Eating) and they train, compete and receive sponsorships (nearly $350,000 in prize money annually) for their Major League Eating.

Jason “Crazy Legs” Conti ranks 17th in the competitive eating circuit and holds one of the federation’s most stomach churning records: downing 168 oysters in 10 minutes. Conti’s long-term gastro-goal, however is much more lofty: “Competitive Eating as an exhibition sport in the Olympics.”

Conti began eating competitively nearly a decade ago, and has more on his plate than a preposterous amount of food: He graduated from John Hopkins, starred in a documentary, “Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating” and has worked a bevy of jobs from nude model to window washer to screenwriter. He’s also currently the beverage manager of two “upscale” strip clubs in Manhattan.

“Instead of being On the Road, I’m on the plate,” says the self-described “eatnik.” “I consider myself honoring the long tradition of Jack Kerouac and The Beats and Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters – This is my chance to see the country, one bite at a time.”

Conti recently chronicled 48 hours during his last cameo-competitive eating appearance, The Philadelphia Wingbowl, considered the Superbowl for competitive eaters.

Thursday: The Wing Bowl

Wing Bowl consists of tailgating, and then packing the Wachovia Center with 20,000 inebriated Philly meatheads. The parade features twenty-five amateur chicken wing eaters (who partake in 32-minute three-round eating contests — the winner gets a car), their entourages, crudely-constructed floats, and “Wingettes” – local strip club strippers and morally casual women. The  sponsors determine Wing Bowl to be a success as long as no one dies. I have attended for the past five years. Each year, I pray I never have to return.

4:33 PM

I am on the frigid corner of 34th and 8th about to board the Bolt Bus to Philly. The bus is about to pull out without my traveling companion, Eric “Badlands” Booker. Booker is a fellow competitive eater, and at over 400 pounds, he cuts an impressive swath. Despite his man mountain status, he is sweet on the world, like the universe’s largest Hershey kiss. His tragic flaw, however, is that he is notoriously late – sometimes by three days. As the bus is about to depart, Badlands boards huffing and puffing.

5:33 PM

I brought sandwiches for Badlands and I from Salumeria Biellese, a hole-in-the-wall French and Italian charcuterie place that acts like a meat beacon to my stomach. I have a spicy sopresetta with provolone and a capicola with mozzarella. I also brought a dried fennel boar sausage as a gift for Pat “Deep Dish” Bertoletti, another competitive eater and aspiring celebrity chef.

Badlands and I split the sandwiches and discuss Jay Z’s new album, movies, and the upcoming Catfish Eating World Championship. It is a pleasant ride.

6:33 PM

We are dropped off along the highway of the Cherry Hill Mall and await a pick-up from US Male, the crawfish-eating champ of the world. He is also a NJ mail carrier, but chooses to spell his nickname referring to his Y chromosome and not his job.

But he’s late. Badlands and I take shelter across the highway at the Red Lobster. I have three Yuengling beers and call the manager over to discuss their “Ameripure” Oysters. He tells me that the pasteurization process allows them to serve the oysters safely. I tell him that it is a jingoistic practice pitting our American insecurities against the welcoming Gulf mollusk. Our voices keep rising, until a table of women recognizes Badlands from his “Wife Swap” appearance and then we all take photos together.

US Male finally arrives. I refuse to waver on my anti-Ameripure stance, so we leave.

8:33 PM

Arrive at The Trappe Tavern. “The Trap,” as it is known to the locals, is the booze hole gathering spot for Rick the Manager’s entourage — he has moved latterly to being a manager of Wingettes (chicken-wing cheerleaders). Rick is a popular guy at this year’s Wing Bowl, and we are slated to enter the arena second to last, just before defending champ Jonathan “Super” Squibb, a mild-mannered accountant who as an unknown won last year’s contest in 32 minutes.

The team is assembled at a table off the main bar. Joey “Jaws” Chestnut (who set a world record at the Coney Island contest by downing 66 hot dogs in 12 minutes) is a three-time Wing Bowl champ who has flown in from California with his Hooters manager friend. Deep Dish Bertoletti, the Key Lime Pie eating champ of the world, has flown in from Chicago. Everyone else is relatively local – Wing Kong, Steakbellie, Yellowcake, and Jeff “The Natural” Olsen.

The waitress is beset with more food orders than drink orders, and “Deep Dish” has a two beer syringe that causes him to go from sober to drooling drunk in fourteen minutes. Instead of side dishes, everyone simply says, “and another order of wings!” I have three orders myself before switching to cheesesteaks.

Friday

12:33 AM

We head to Pumptown, the only strip club within miles (No one seems to know the origins of the dubious name). Oddly enough, the DJ looks exactly like Notorious B.O.B, the chili spaghetti-eating champ. When Notorious B.O.B arrives we try to get a photo of the two doppelgangers by the 1985 television set, but despite allowing smoking, full nudity, and couch dances, Pumptown’s no photo policy is strictly enforced.

2:33 AM

At Rick The Manager’s house to pick-up his float. Like the float in “Animal House,” this one is constructed from car parts, including a police light and siren. It also has a lot of glitter and a vague jailhouse theme. The temperature is dropping outside,  so I switch to warm coffee and espresso vodka.

Everyone moves inside and congregates in two rooms. In the kitchen a giant tomato pie and a six foot sub is served. The food is gone in twenty minutes. Most people pass out on the carpet, but I decide to move outside. The sky is dark. I close my eyes. Rick shakes me awake with my team t-shirt, emblazoned with the slogan “Eat every meal like it’s your last.”

3:33 AM

Head into downtown Philly with Yellowcake and a plump wingette who is wearing five inch stilettos, fishnet stockings, and legwarmers — and not much else.

4:33 PM

We are walking in through the loading dock at the Wachovia Center. It’s drafty and dark outside, but the vinyl maroon jackets of the many security guards gleam brightly in the fluorescent hallways of the giant sports stadium. The light really brings out the cellulite on a drunken, teetering Wingette. I nod a greeting to Damaging Doug, who looks like a cross between Jabba the Hut and the Comic Book Guy on the Simpsons. He wears voluminous elastic pants.

Steakbellie moves me along as several security guards are scrutinizing the case of water in my hands. The 24 plastic water bottles under shrink wrap contain no water at all. Instead, I have substituted the water with every varietal of clear alcohol except moonshine (which I couldn’t find on short notice).

On the bottom of each bottle is a sharpie pen code. “V-pin” for instance, stands for Pineapple Vodka. Backstage, drinking is frowned upon and booze is always confiscated. However, like Kobayashi in “The Usual Suspects,” I am hiding in plain sight.

The water bottles clear the security station. Without mixers for our 26 bottles of booze (I also have two plastic bottles in my jacket pockets – Laphroig for Steakbellie and Absinthe for me), everyone hits the vending machine.

Joey is a drooling drunk, but is showing off his two Wing Bowl rings from previous years. He couldn’t find the third ring, but the gaudy Super Bowl-style rings are valued at $9,000 each by the Wing Bowl jewelry sponsor.

5:33 AM

Everywhere you look are bleary-eyed strippers, drunken fat guys assembling floats with power tools. Steakbellie sees his old wrestling team – dressed as Jersey Shore characters with orange facepaint, fake plastic chests, and gelled hair.

7:33 AM

Inside the Rick the Manager’s float, I can hear the crowd of 20,000 yelling and whooping and throwing stuff. I’ve switched to apple rum at this point, but my buzz is waning. I encourage Deep Dish to urinate on the inside of the float or the Wachovia ground. When else does someone get a chance to tinkle with 20,000 people cheering their bladder? Nothing seems to go right during out entrance, but perhaps that is the point.

The crowd is riled up, pressing against the Plexiglas, shouting profanity. The few women in the stands are encouraged to flash, but the camera crews aren’t allowed to show exposed breasts on the Jumbotron.

I realize this is as close to the Apocalypse as one can get without actually experiencing the Apocalypse. At some point Snookie from Jersey Shore is introduced and gets on a mechanical bull in the pit. The boos shake the rafters, beers are thrown, the radio host announces that this was not the reaction he was expecting. It seems that despite assembling a stadium of DNA-impaired drunken dolts, he is surprised that the crowd has taste.

Obi Wing, a mutton chopped Wing Bowl regular, tries to bring the energy back by spitting up a handful of wing meat, stripping off his shirt and diving under the table. Rick the Manager appears in the pit and we decide to exit.

8:33 AM

The bright morning sun feels good. I light a cigar and watch someone’s limo roll by. Steakbellie appears with two trays of the leftover Wing Bowl wings. We open them up and steam erupts – they are still warm. Granted ,they are the color of jaundice. The giant steaming trays each hold hundreds of wings. We hand one to B.O.B who has donned sunglasses and sits in the back of Rick the Manager’s car. B.O.B. says nothing but begins eating the wings and flinging the bones out the window. The rest of us attack the other tray like vultures. The wings taste like they were made from chicken that died instead of chicken killed for the purpose, but we don’t slow until the tray is gone. The asphalt ground looks like a Santeria ritual has taken place.

A pageantry-filled, processional parade files into the pit. The parade features twenty-five amateur chicken wing eaters, their entourages, crudely constructed floats, and Wingettes. The winner gets a car, but the 32-minute, three-round eating contest takes a back-seat to the bacchanalia of drinking, tit-flashing, and fist-fighting.

9:33 AM

Wing Bowl is the largest strip club day in Philly. All the clubs open at 8 am for afterparties featuring, “Legs and Eggs,”  strippers and a free breakfast buffet. US Male and I wander past Rick the Manager’s parked car. B.O.B’s tray of leftover wings is 1/8 full and sits on the sidewalk. No one can move anywhere, it’s impossible to get a drink, and the only light provided via neon is headache inducing. It’s like being trapped in a psychedelic elevator.

12:33 PM

When I exit the club, I am blinded by sunlight again. Seagulls have carried off the discarded chicken wings, except for one pile of four or five that looks like dog shit.

At Tony Luke’s, we find ourselves needing another round of cheesesteaks. I like a mushroom steak with provolone and hot peppers, but the hot peppers are overpowering my sandwich. Each is four or five inches long. I can’t handle the hot. Badlands has passed out in the corner and looks like Buddha – granted a Buddha with cheese whiz running down his shirt. I decide we need to head back to NYC. There is nothing more we can learn from Wing Bowl.

To review a film after it’s been awarded an Oscar is like evaluating a bottle of wine after you’ve seen its price tag. “This one’s got to be good,” you think. I’m cheating a bit, but, I finally saw “The Cove” last night at the Asia Society in New York, and it lived up to its newly acquired label.

I was wary, too. The Oscar nominations for Best Documentary glossed over two of the best documentaries I’ve seen, not just recently, but ever: “Tyson” by James Toback and “The Story of Anvil” by Sacha Gervasi. Both Toback and Gervasi are old hands in the film world; Toback has directed half-a-dozen movies, and Gervasi wrote the screenplay for “The Terminal.” I think these documentaries were overlooked because of their politics, or lack thereof. Hollywood likes Issues That Matter – global warming, health care. Washed-up rockers don’t make the cut.

“The Cove” is about an ad-hoc band of activists – an Australian surfer, a National Geographic photographer, and an airplane technician, among others – who want to film an inlet in Taiji, Japan where fisherman capture and butcher 23,000 dolphins each year. It’s not just an animal rights nightmare. The dolphin meat, which is served in school lunches throughout Japan, contains dangerous levels of mercury. The cove is buttressed by jagged cliffs as well as droves of Japanese policemen and the shot is nearly impossible to capture. The documentary quickly turns into a crime thriller: there are bad guys with silly nicknames (“Private Space”), chase scenes, covert missions. In other activist documentaries, like “An Inconvenient Truth” and anything by Michael Moore, the activism occurs in the distribution and marketing; it’s your attention they’re after. Instead, ‘The Cove” is a film about being an activist – the filmmakers risk arrest to complete the film. It’s a story. Not a well-shot lecture.

Louie Psihoyos, the director of the film, is a photojournalist by training. This is his first film. “That doesn’t say a lot for other filmmakers,” he said last night, in a discussion after the screening. Psihoyos produced the film with a $2.4 million dollar loan. A theatrical release and an Oscar later, he’s still not close to paying it back. In “The Cove,” the Academy celebrated, not only one of the year’s best documentary films, but all of the neophytes making them.

Dear Mom,

I just got around to reading your slang column, and you got a few things wrong, left a few things out, and it wasn’t really “the latest.”

First, it’s all about irony. Second, everybody has their own category of slang nowadays. There’s gangster/traditional slang (e.g., “he’s really ‘g’”), nerd slang, hippy-stoner slang, and ironic hipster/faux intelligent slang.

Combining words is in (i.e., absotively posilutely). I would describe this as nerdy white people whimsical slang.

Inserting random big words into everyday speech = hipster talk (e.g., “That music is just ubiquitous”), as is returning to old slang for the purpose of irony (e.g., “neat,” “swell,” “saucy,” “creepin’” (e.g., “Ellie, you’re really creepin’ in this picture).

Your “dumb” example is not quite right. You could replace dumb with “mad,” which means “very.”

“Dumb good” is better.
“He looks good” rather than “He’s good looking.”
“Sus” = suspect, suspicious, sketchy.
“Chill” = very cool (i.e., “this new music is very chill”).
Adding “izzle” (e.g., “fo’ rizzle” for real) = very out, so 2003.
Dank = high quality.
Brute = brutal (e.g., “that picture of me is brute”).

Using adjective slang words in a noun form updates them (e.g., “sweetness”).

“That’s how I do” is the new “That’s how I roll.”

“Cool beans” and “hot rice” = very annoying and have been popular for too long, but some people refuse to let it go.

Oh and “fly” is out.

xo,

17

Photo by myesllab

Poor Corey Haim has passed away. The LAPD has launched an investigation since Corey’s body was found in his apartment early this morning, but they suspect a drug overdose. Corey was only 38 years old!

Best known as a child actor in the 80’s, Corey’s drug problem derailed his career long ago. Just when he seemed to be back on track, costarring with Corey Feldman in the 2006 reality series “The Two Coreys,” his continued drug abuse nixed the third season.

The Washington Post cites a 2004 interview with the British tabloid The Sun, in which Corey described the depths to which he had fallen:

I started on the downers which were a hell of a lot better than the uppers because I was a nervous wreck. But one led to two, two led to four, four led to eight, until at the end it was about 85 a day — the doctors could not believe I was taking that much. And that was just the Valium — I’m not talking about the other pills I went through.

No word from his best friend, Corey Feldman, yet.

So in the meantime:

In the Pinto’s case, it was the gas tank exploding.  In the Prius, it is “unintendend acceleration,” meaning your car goes wildly out of control at high speeds.  Before, the problem was the floor mats.  But this week there were two reported incidents of a Prius going out of control with gas pedal problems.

The case in San Diego is getting particularly a lot of play - with the release of a dramatic 911 call of a high speed Highway Patrol rescue.

There are already people who doubt the San Diego incident - apparently the driver, James Sikes, has had financial problems - as either a scam or a case of driver error.  And a MarketWatch editorial very accurately points to the oncoming rush of the cable news monster blowing things out of proportion.

An accident here the other day claimed the lives of four women when their car slammed into a tree.

But since they were riding in a 2000 Pontiac Bonneville instead of a 2010 Toyota Prius these women didn’t rate the top slot on any national newscast — or much mention on any newscast at all — nor send people tweeting away in outrage nor stoke Internet chat room furor.

But really, caution and reason may not help beleaguered Toyota and its image.  (Here is a law review article showing that the Pinto was not all that dangerous).  This is horrible news for Toyota, especially coming on the heels of a Wall Street Journal story that the company is recalling Priuses for gas pedal problems.  The company denies the story, but, again, it just adds on, as does this AP story that class action lawsuits by Toyota owners on the declining value of their cars could cost the company $3 billion.

There are already plenty of Toyota jokes floating around.  Leno did one in February (there are more jokes here):

And the Daily Show did a funny piece about the same time.

But those jokes passed.  The news is not passing, however. It is building, inexorably perhaps, to making Toyota a byword for incompetence.

How long until the Prius makes the big screen?  Like this scene from the 1984 movie Top Secret, which got me thinking about all this.

I love that scene, though it also makes me never ever want to get in a Pinto.

Is there a comedian out there who will make me feel the same way about a Prius?  Make me laugh and cringe and hesitate?

Toyota better hope not.

Photo by Beige Alert

Today, we’ll take a look at three such efforts taken by search marketing leaders (Google and MSN) as well as the provider of the dominant medium for mobile ads (Apple via the iPhone). Let’s get going!

-Google is the master at sweating the small stuff in order to get the big payoff in the end. Just think about Google Maps. Sure, there are ads on the page but if you think that those ads paid for thousands of cars taking pictures of every street in America, you’re sorely mistaken. Google builds these sorts of products to increase loyalty to the Google brand and to build a positive rapport with the user. And it works! Recently, Google shared it’s search data to show their lighter side, depicting the winners and losers of Oscar night through their stats. As it turns out, the Hurt Locker didn’t just take home the most golden baldies, they also received quite the spike of searches. Thanks for sharing, Google; this stuff always fascinates me. [Google Blog via Mashable]

-Microsoft has been focusing on something that seems small to most of us but is really big news up in Seattle. For months, msn.com has redirected you straight to bing.com, showcasing Microsoft’s much ballyhooed “decision engine.” No longer! The redesign of msn.com is complete and you should go check it out when you get a chance. It may not look like much, but watch for customized content and other such bells and whistles. Personally, I think it looks a lot more like yahoo.com and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Bing.com seemed to make quite the effort to copy Google’s minimalist approach; I guess Microsoft wanted to give users a choice between simple search and profound portal. Well, take your pick! [paidContent.org]

-Apple wants your iPhone to replace a lot of the various gadget in your life. Calendar? Check. Calculator? Check. Game Boy? Getting close! The list is long and only getting longer. One thing that I never expected to see was for my iPhone to replace my house keys. Yikes, Apple! I think you may be trying a little too hard to help me out. This borders on invasive. Also, I’m not sure that I want a key to my house that runs out of batteries every day, is dangerously susceptible to water damage and can be rendered useless if it falls out of my pocket. Why not just stick to the fundamentals, Apple? Black turtlenecks and brushed aluminum casing. Oh yeah, that’s your sweet spot! [Vallywag]

-So, sometimes focusing on details that aren’t directly related to your core competancy are a good thing. Google is great at search marketing but it’s great to see them use their info for a fun blog article. Microsoft is great at desktop applications but it’s important that they are taking their commitment to search (both on bing.com and msn.com) seriously. Apple is great at user-friendly hardware but maybe it’s not so great that they are thinking so much about getting into your apartment! Just remember, when you’re sweating the small stuff, make sure that it’s stuff that your potential customers actually want you to sweat!

-Michael Block

Originally from Wpromote, Inc. PPC Management. Cross-Posted with permission.