lovehatethings

Love Craig Ferguson. Love They Might Be Giants. And what can one say about Hodgman? ...no, really, what can one say about Hodgman? The Late Late Show does in five and a half minutes what Leno couldn't do in 15 years of the Tonight Show: originality, humor, kick ass music, and a cool cameo. Thanks @valerieinto for the heads up on this one.

What I mean is that I believe content is king, but I'm starting to parse out a fine line that exists between content and concept in consuming information.

I've always been a firm believer in the idea of style over substance IF one can start to see the style as substance in itself. I'm also a firm believer that both are borne on a dual-purposed concept of creator and consumer.

I know. I'm talking in circles. Give me an paragraph or two to explain myself.

There are relatively few basic themes in literature as compared to the plots, characters, and settings that inhabit them. I always taught my English students that at the very root, a literary theme had to have two things: subject and slant.

It's not enough to say that "love" is a theme. By combining that subject with the creator's bias on it, however, a simple theme can be derived. For the J. Geils Band Love Stinks. And based on this simple syntax we can develop themes from the obvious to the arcane in arts and media. There have been countless writers, artists, musicians and thinkers who have all ruminated on the simple idea that love stinks. No matter how high the numbers creep, we still keep coming back for more.

Many Shakespearean characters have inhabited the love stinks theme, and without fail I find their stories more interesting than the one told by the J. Geils Band, although admittedly not as rockin'. And here's where the worm starts to turn. We often think of style v. substance and form v. function, but both of those equations miss the mark in terms of the importance of pre-existing concept.

You may watch Ophelia ass up in an Elsinore pond and ruminate "well, it sucks to be her", or you may find it to be a tragedy of frailty undone by all-consuming spurned devotion. Your choice will NOT depend on the words of Hamlet, as most folio versions are relatively the same, but instead on the direction, acting, execution of those performing, and the mindset you bring to the scene.

Regardless of which feeling you choose to embody after viewing the unfortunate non-swim, a curious venn has erupted from your sensibilities that you are probably unaware of: 1) Shakespeare understood how love can stink, 2) he also had to pen the words to fuel the character on how love could stink, 3) the actor must embody the belief that love stinks, 4) the director must set the scene to persuade you that love stinks, and 5) if you had a slice of luncheon meat on the verge of turning for lunch, steps 1-4 won't mean shit to you as much as how to find the nearest restroom.

Concept, content, and consumption bleed into each other with compunction. There is no real separation of the three. So when I say I don't care what you say, but I love the way you say it, I'm really not trying to be two dimensional or glib. There are simply very few times I'm looking for raw data in everyday life. I want the story, the interpretation, and the presentation.

Why do people care which newscaster they listen to when 90% of the stories are the same after being pumped out by a wire service? Why do people care which podcasts they listen to for daily tech or entertainment news when 90% of the stories will be the same. Why do people read 1000 poems about the trials of love or 1000 novels about horrors of war or listen to 1000 songs about the righteousness of the oppressed? It's all about the presentation.

If one stands up in a drunken bellow on Speaker's Corner and decries oppression through burps, belches, and bromides, any concept and content will be lost. But if I sit back after 40 years and watch Richie Havens repetitively sing "Freedom" over an acoustic guitar and congas on YouTube, my heart reaches for the sky.

When I hear people actively engaged in conversation, when I see musicians smiling at each other and having fun on stage through the miscues and wrong notes, when I listen to or read someone who can use words to make content triumphant over concept and careless of consumption, I concede. I want connection over perfection and my substance will be redefined by a meshing of style and interpretation.

I would rather read T.S. Eliot waxing poetic about a used Kleenex or listen to Tom Waits reminisce about the "piss yellow gypsy cab" that went by than read 99% of journalists blather about world affairs. In this distinction, old media will continue its death spiral. 

The concepts at the root of both sides are always universal. Old media used to have authority over content, but the venn has bled. Consumers beckon for style, originality and voice... not simply bias, but voice. Such is the domain of a thinker, an entertainer, an artist, but rarely, and decreasingly so, a reporter. And while old media has tens of thousands of reporters worldwide, the web has hundreds of millions of thinkers, entertainers, and artists.

Move over J. Geils; you've lost your byline.

Wow! What a waste of time.

Not only did I not care about the item being unboxed or the person doing the unboxing, but i actually started to resent the entire process. It's almost like they were rubbing it in my face that they had something I didn't. And even though I didn't want the product they were unboxing, I started to feel envious of the joy they took out of unboxing it.

I will admit that there is a certain anticipatory feeling that accompanies opening a new product, but I can't imagine the process that takes one from frustratingly tearing shrinkwrap and mauling cardboard to actually do it in front of a video camera. Because while I was shocked that anyone would actually record themselves doing such a thing, by the sheer numbers of like videos in YouTube's "related" column, I discovered that thousands of people actually found this process exciting.

Now far be it from me to rain on people's parades. After all there are far worse things that people do to get their rocks off.

I was reminded of that day when today I "unboxed" my first iPhone. Oh sure, I've unboxed the iPod shuffle, the iPod Nano, and the iPod Touch over the past few years, but nothing sparked my synapses like opening my iPhone... which I did... at work... without fanfare, without video camera, without pacing and shaking my hands in eager anticipation. I took a letter opener, gouged the shrinkwrap, ripped the box open, flung the manuals in the trash and swapped out SIM cards without soundtrack, special effects, chromakey titles or people watching on YouTube.

Am I alone here folks? I'm a tech guy! I like gadgets and toys and regularly buy a whole crapload of electronica I don't need but still covet. Maybe I'm just jaded. Maybe I just come from a time where my favorite unboxing of the day had to do with a bowl of Count Chocula and digging out the cheap plastic toy at the bottom... aaah! those were good times.

I used to think "Unboxing" was a late-career George Foreman fight. Now I think it should have a day named after it since people love it so much. I figure here in my home and native land of Canada we have Boxing Day on December 26th, but that doesn't make sense. The day after Xmas is anything but Boxing Day anymore; it's all about the Unboxing.

I am thus declaring December 26th Unboxing Day in Canada, not because that's when we open things (which occurs the day previous) but because that's when we debox our households after the clutter of commerciality drowns us. I suppose one could call it Deboxing Day, but Debox sounds too much like a new pharma scam. 

Join with me on December 26th to celebrate Unboxing Day and liberate your house of boxes... except of course the Idiot Box, which is still a box, but how many boxes can you bask in the warm glow of on Xmas Eve?

HERB TARLEK:

The whole world is in revolution. And not just here, but everywhere. And you know who's at war? It's The Dungarees v. The Suits. The whole world is in two armed camps. Over here you have The Dungarees and over here The Suits.

Remember the rise in the 50s? It was The Dungarees v. The Suits. And then Watergate. Those guys arrested were wearing dungarees and who suffered for it?

LES NESSMAN:

The Suits.

HERB TARLEK:

Exactly.

LES NESSMAN:

There are issues Herb.

HERB TARLEK:

The issues, Les, are a smokescreen.

Now listen. When a son disobeys his father, what's he wearing?

LES NESSMAN:

The son? um... dungarees!

HERB TARLEK:

And what's the father got on?

LES NESSMAN:

Probably a suit!

HERB TARLEK:

You see what I mean Les? And you know what's worse? The fathers are beginning to wear dungarees too!

LES NESSMAN:

That's right!

HERB TARLEK:

So are the mothers!

LES NESSMAN:

It's just like the Body Snatchers.

HERB TARLEK:

Exactly! The Body Snatchers! The Dungarees are forcing The Suits right off the face of this earth! 

But we can't allow this to happen!

LES NESSMAN:

What do we do Herb?

HERB TARLEK:

We've gotta get tough. I've got an idea that'll turn this whole thing to our advantage. Get us back some of the jobs that we used to handle around here. I mean Travis cannot cut us out of everything.

LES NESSMAN:

I'm with ya Herb!

HERB TARLEK:

Good. Let's go see the Big Guy.

LES NESSMAN:

Herb, you know who I think is behind all this?

HERB TARLEK:

Who?

LES NESSMAN:

Levi Strauss.

HERB TARLEK:

Could be.

I scrounged the comic racks and bins for my very own mutant animal fighters. While I'm sure I didn't find them all, I did find the following:

and my favorite...

Just to prove I am not making these up, I have included scans of the issue #1 covers from my dusty archive. I've also included an issue #1 cover of Adolescent Radioactive Black Belt Hamsters 3D.

I'm not saying these were great literature. I'm admitting some sad geek status in owning them. And I'm wondering if ANY of you remember ANY of these or if I own the only copies left in existence. 

Pardon my nostalgic waxings. I've got to put my bags and boards away... if you don't know, you won't know.

I believe we could conserve more.

I believe we could recycle more.

I believe we could reuse more.

I believe climate always changes by our mere presence on this globe.

I believe the earth is looking more like a cesspool every day.

I believe education, not legislation will be the difference for most of us.

I believe that, if humanity is going to be architect of its own destruction, we deserve it.

I believe we have sold out the earth's environments for our home environments.

I don't believe a bunch of politicians schmoozing in Denmark will make one lick of difference.

I don't believe in Cap and Trade.

I don't believe people should make money from trading futures and derivatives in carbon.

I don't believe Cap and Trade is about helping the environment as much as helping portfolios.

I believe industrial carbon emissions should be Capped - period.

I believe penalties should be harsh.

I believe when Cap and Trade is introduced, people should follow the money .

I believe something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

I believe that politicians don't meet without a political end.

I believe that businessmen don't meet without a business end.

I believe that evangelists don't meet without a sermon.

I believe that our so-called leaders will be making decisions for us because of our inability to take action.

Tiger,

I don't hate you.

I don't love you.

I'm not a fan of yours.

I don't golf.

I don't watch golf.

I do care that golf is perhaps a more boring television sport than NASCAR and that most weekends I can find 12 hours of golf tournaments on television while most worthwhile television dies a quick death.

I don't care that you screwed around on your wife any more or less than I'd care about some guy across town doing the same thing with his wife.

I don't care that your SUV took out a couple of telephone poles and trees.

I don't care that Nike pays you millions of dollars a year.

I don't care that you're an icon.

I don't care that you're better at a game any more than a Rubik's Cube champ or the winner of the Nathan's hot dog eating competition.

I do care that so many other people care.

I do care that as the world goes on without the soma-induced couch potatoes watching re-enactments of your driving lesson failures, people are actually suffering, starving and dying while your cell phone messages have somehow become more interesting than ALL of the following headlines over the past couple of days: