lovehate: Award Shows

After considering the affectation that I have for lists, I have tried to come to grips with why I absolutely abhor award shows. After all, aren't award shows simply groupings of lists that get refined to a final list of the night's winners?

I have, however, parsed down the key difference between liking lists and hating award shows: pomp.

If award shows could reduce down the core information (i.e. candidates and winners) to half an hour or less - I'd watch. Instead, the award show format of grandiose gala is perhaps the most BORING and taxing hours of television one can sit through. As much as I might like a host choice one year compared to the next, even a great host can not overcome the sheer banality of scripted humor and over-the-top musical numbers that should be consigned to the next High School Musical sequel.

I could care less about the red carpet and her red dress - who she's wearing, how much the necklace costs, how fabulous anyone looks or what's in the gift bags for the presenters.

I really don't need to see Hollywood starlets crammed into dresses with painted on smiles as their handlers tell them which direction to turn to when the cameras flash on them. I don't care to see unlikely pairings stumble over verbals fondlings of each other while trying to choke out unfunny dialogue before ripping open an envelope. I don't want to see a musical performance by an artist I don't like, and, even more, I don't want to see a watered-down uninspired performance by an artist I do like. And finally, I don't want to see acceptance speeches that contain people thanking those I don't know, don't want to know, and don't care about. I don't care that an actress wants to thank her mother or drama teacher, or a singer wants to thank his crew or god. I don't want to see people weeping or fist-pumping in joy.

I would rather award shows became more debate-oriented. Let's have some well-informed people talking intelligently about who should win, and why for an hour before the winners are announced. Let's have an awards show that lasts an hour or less and gives me the information quickly, efficiently without any envelopes. Let's have after shows that contain the same (or different) panel of "experts" consider the decisions that were made and talk about the artistic merits of the winning choices.

Like watching any faux sport that has a basis in judging instead of hard numbers, award shows don't (and in fact can't) deal with any intrinsic data: it's all subjective. And I appreciate the filtering mechanism may be knowledgeable and that the process is engrained in history and tradition, but essentially for every 3-4 hour award show, I'm waiting for twenty names that could be read in less than two minutes. Watching sixty minutes of hockey or football during a three hour span is taxing enough at a 3:1 ratio. Award shows commonly have a 240:1 ratio of unwatchable crap compared to somewhat interesting information. And this assumes that I have any investment in the nominees to begin with.

I rather we simply pack all award shows in a giant envelope and ship them off to the Lost island where all of the nominees could, in Survivor-like fashion, eliminate each other one at a time until it turned into documentary about how nature had reclaimed its territory. If such events would happen I could happily announce that the ultimate winners would be the viewing public.

Emmy

thinglets: 3,106,000,000,000,000 miles

distant planet

Researchers at the Gemini North Telescope in Hawaii have discovered a planet 3.106 trillion miles from Earth.

Just to put that number in perspective... wait a second... how does one put 3106 trillion (or indeed 3 quadrillion, 106 trillion) into perspective?

One would have to take a hundred and twenty yard tape measure (because football fields are the standard references for large areas or distances) and load it into their Rolls Royce Phantom (because you might as well travel in style) and, at $3.68/gallon, pay $635,004,444,444,444.44 for a one way trip at 18mpg. Of course that person would have to work 96,947,243,426,632.67 hours at the US federal minimum wage of $6.55/hr to afford that much gas (and at least a few shifts of overtime for the Rolls Royce). Insurance would really be necessary as there is relatively a lot less to hit in space and, if you do get into an accident, I doubt there would be cell coverage.

All this to find out you were 211,869,031,377,899 football fields away so that those who measure distance and area by football fields would be satisfied.

Until then you can rework the old Proclaimers song to go:

I would drive three quadrillion, one hundred and six trillion miles
and I would drive three quadrillion, one hundred and six trillion miles more,
just to be the one that drove three quadrillion, one hundred and six trillion miles
to tell you how many football fields it was.

distant planet

lovehate: The Gates of Seinfeld

The hordes of yea and naysayers hurling their two-bits in about the latest Gates/Seinfeld Microsoft ads have, if nothing else, provided more coverage for the OS giant than almost anything in recent years. And the fact that it may be half good and half bad is at least half better than most of coverage during that time.

It's curious that media critics seem to realize the ads are no different than most other huge companies but... more on that later.

It's the so-called tech experts and bloggers that seem to have the most analysis invested into the most detailed minutae of these spots. On "This Week in Tech" last week, gdgt's Ryan Block performed a deconstruction on the first ad that made the entire spot into an allegory about the "common man's" experience in an Apple Store. On this week's TWiT, John C. Dvorak wondered why the hell Microsoft wasn't "selling" something with such an expensive campaign. Today CNET is reporting that critics are abuzz over the fact that the third installment of the ads will NOT feature Jerry and Bill and, as such, this constitutes a surrender to the bad press and a radical shift in the campaign. Of course further in the article it is revealed that Microsoft actually announced this shift last week and that the dynamic duo would return.

All of this proves one thing: no one is talking about "how bad Vista is" anymore.

Let's get back to how these ads are no different than any other mega-sized company. When was the last time you saw a Nike ad that talked about the new sole design technology or comfortable insoles or crazy grommit technology advancements for the laces. My usual Nike experience is watching someone running in slow-motion while an intended inpsiration passage in read in the background by a famous athlete while a slow string pad crescendos in the background. When was the last time you saw a Coke or Pepsi commercial that talked about the drinks themselves and not just about "wanting to buy the world a Coke" or being "part of the Pepsi Generation". Every McDonald's ad essentially says one thing: "Hey look! We're McDonald's. Try and not be dragged here kicking and screaming by your kids."

Huge brands do not have to sell product, they simply have to sell the brand. The point/counterpoint Apple commercials always have bullet point features that help to explain the great features of Macs because, simply, most people do not have a Mac, most people have not seen a Mac in operation, and most people, if they're going to switch, NEED to be sold on product AND brand but the fact that you will be paying between 30-50% more for an equally-powered system.

A used car lot often has a loudmouth talking a million miles a second trying to explain everything they've got and are selling at lower than everyone else. Commercials from the big automakers show cars whipping around long sweeping mountain curves with techno music pumps up the jam and, if you're lucky, you may get a chromakey blurb or two at the bottom with a logo at the end.

Videogames will often show a bunch of cutscenes strung together with a grandiose synthesized orchestral score. Gatorade will be similar to a Nike commercial with less talking and a lot of orange sweat. How much can you say about potato chips without talking about the thousands of migrant workers that got paid 25% of minimum wage to harvest your Wavy Lay's? How many ads for financial establishments don't include a young or retired couple sitting across from a suit smilling and nodding their heads while words like "easy", "friendly", and "future"?

I'll be the first to admit that these Microsoft ads are clever while not brilliant, and I'm not trying to be an MS Apologist 3.1, but the inner Samuel Beckett in me could not help but revel in the absurdity of the first ad's punchline: "Just wondering, are they ever going to come out with something that will make our computers moist and chewy like cakes so we can just eat them while we are working?" That the agency behind this was brave enough to make it (as every other big company's ads) about nothing, makes me love not the ads themselves, but the mindset that acknowledges the quirky, the bizarre, and the just plain ridiculous still has a place on television. And if anyone spends too much time sitting around WTF'ing their television while these spots are playing, maybe they'll understand when Godot appears.

gates robot