It’s been awhile, long time friend…
Well, needless to say, I suck at keeping a blog up to date. I have had to start about a billion other blogs for various classes in the last little while, but I have come back home, to my good old blog, the one that I love and care for so much…
I am teaching a media literacy class right now and I am making them keep blogs as well… I don’t know if it is going to be a successful endeavour, but I really like the idea of learning to post online in an appropriate manner at a younger age… I don’t know if this is going to be a hit or a huge mess… oh well, at least it will save paper.
I am eagerly awaiting the new season of Grey’s … yeah, I am a girl, deep down inside, but I really like it. I can’t wait to find out if Derek ditches that stupid scrub nurse, the one that I didn’t even bother to learn the name of because I hated her anyways…
I’ve been asking myself WHY a lot these days… like why I even care about the television show… I know that I am a critical viewer of media but still I eat up Grey’s Anatomy like it’s a bag of my favourite chips, dill pickle in fact.
I will figure it out eventually I suppose…
Abortion Demonstration
If anyone else saw this, and is offended by what I am going to say, I am sorry and you should stop reading this. I always thought that going away to University meant you had an open mind and that you would encounter other like-minded individuals there as well. Today I was shocked when I found protestors showing pamphlet after pamphlet into my hands.
Obituary – 28 March 2007 @ 1:03 PM
Today, freedom of choice sadly passed away today at the University of Lethbridge located in Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada. Plagued by the bubonic protestor, the liberated freedom of choice had perservered since Monday, when the disease first presented itself in the form of a controversial bulletin board. After three long days, freedom of choice was subjected once more to an idyllic virus in the form of red taped pamphlet holders. It was at this moment, at the entrance to the U of L Link building, that freedom of choice collapsed, suffocated by tonnes of pamphlet media. Freedom of choice leaves behind, its constant companion free will and will be sadly missed by myself, and all students who encounted the disease in gigantic proportions. It was freedom of choice’s wishes not to have a funeral, and condolence notices are not neccessary.
Okay this is extreme, and you’ll probably say that freedom of choice should still be educated, but this really really really rubbed me the wrong way. Not because I believe in abortions or I don’t, but becaus ethere is a certain line that I felt was COMPLETELY CROSSED by the protestors. I felt that by shoving those pamphlets in my hand, and by trying to make me feel guilty these people were stealing my freedom of choice to make my own decisions about the issue on my own time. Besides, if we need to make these educated decisions about the issue, where the hell were the pro-choice pamphlets? Where is the information on that?????
I also have a problem with the fact that the deomstration was obviously deeply religiously related which again, BOTHERS me, because again that is taking away a level of my freedom of choice to choose and practise my own religious ideologies, which the Edict of Nantes gave me in the 16th century.
I’ve Only Ever Played Bonk’s Adventures
Now, videogaming is slightly over my head. You should all pause and take a minute and just revel in the fact that I am saying that I don’t really understand very much about it, because I rarely ever admit to not knowing something. I do know that it is an insanely huge market and that there are billions of dollars to be spent and to be made from it, but I have had very little direct personal experience with it.
I have an older brother and although he sometimes reads my blog and might get mad at me saying this, he was kind of a computer dork when we were younger. He had those “LAN” parties where all of his friends would come over or they would go to other dank basements and connect all of their computers and play some sort of game with each other all night. Something called Counter-Strike. Like ALL night. Before I knew what he was doing I thought he was totally bad ass staying out all night. Then I found out he was playing with a joystick and shooting at some enemy with his virtual friends. And I have to say I wasn’t as impressed. And the basement would always have this “videogame” smell that I can never get out of my head… does anyone know what I am talking about?
This does have a point, or at least I think so… I think this goes with Jakobsson’s acticle.
Anyways, they would have these parties and through this they created a kind of virtual community, even though they were planning on playing all for themselves. There were alliances, and there were plans of attack and all other sorts of things that would go on behind each others’ backs and they were in the SAME ROOM. I mean it would be obvious once the plan of attack would go down, but the prey would have no idea til their were being vitrually decimated.
What struck me as even stranger when I was younger was how the people wouldn’t be angry at the co-conspirators afterwards. I would have been so pissed!!! I think this speaks to Jakobsson’s idea that the people exist in their virtual world and their real world at the same time and they can have completely different personas and they don’t cross over with each other. They are two different identities completely and they have their own social networks that only come out during the game. Did I get that wrong?
One more thing that I thought tied in nicely with Jakobsson’s whole idea of the “looting” prcedures that would end up being super complicated was the whole Leroy Jenkins video which I will post right below. I think this goes to show that even though there are these supposed freedoms of these internet gaming places, there are still norms and social hierarchies that come through, and when you break them, its a pretty big deal. World of Warcraft is a big deal to a lot of people and if you go against the grain, you’re basically a videogame social reject.
And here’s a Leroy spoof video. I argue that it is trying to show that Leroy’s actions were just as socially unacceptable in the videogame world as they would be in the real office world.
I know that I haven’t really said how videogames are part of my social experience, but they just aren’t and never really have been. I have never been into them. Partly because my brother would never share his Nintendo but in all fairness I did get his Turbo Graphix 16 when I was like 13 so it was like 10 years old by then and a piece of crap but did have that sweet Bonk’s game where you hit things with your head and were a bald baby caveman… Besides, if I touched his games, a beating usually ensued. So I prefferred My Little Ponies, and Barbies, and their just weren’t games like that when I was little. I did get a Nintendo Advanced when I worked at a payday loan company cause I didn’t have anything better to do, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you where it even is now that I don’t have that job. But don’t tell my ex-boyfriend that since I made him buy it for me.
Okay I am done now. LEEEEEEEEROYY JENNNNNKINSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
Intervention
The TV show Intervention has moved to FRIDAY NIGHTS instead of the wonderful Sunday evening placement. It was fabulous way to wind down my weekend after a lot of… well being a fool on Saturday… I loved to watch the show and see that the people got into treatment and everything ended up hunky dory for them. NOW they have changed it to Fridays, which is a night that I always work and this bothers me. I did download and burn it to divX so I could watch it, but the quality wasn’t there… and it just wasn’t the same.
Come back to Sunday Intervention. Come back…
Derek’s Duality
What excites me about this week is I finally am able to tie Grey’s Anatomy to our class, and actually get marks for it. I bet someone is jealous… or maybe more of you… if you don’t watch Grey’s it’s still going to be really obvious so don’t get your knickers in a knot… it will all work out.
Okay here is the clip I am going to break down… perhaps in a rap…
If anyone has seen Addison’s character before, she is kind of portrayed as, well, a bitch. She’s not very well liked, and it seems like the make-up artists intentionally do her make-up badly so she looks harsh and unfeminine and well… mean. At the end of this clip, when the Derek is emotionally breaking down over Meredith’s precarious state, Addison is speaking to him in a very tough manner and taking the position of authority which is pretty typical of her character, who is not very well liked, and often seen as the villain, even though Derek cheated on her too.
This, in my opinion supports Ingham’s assertion that women who have any sort of power over men in a series are not usually well liked by the viewers.
Despite the fact that Derek is breaking down in the latter half of the clip he is asserting authority over Meredith’s mother who is a woman and appears to be rather helpless in her bed since she is sick. During their confrontation, he gets angry with her and says,
“You called her ordinary.”
For anyone who hasn’t seen this episode, I am sorry, I am going to ruin the ending for you. When Meredith is in this “limbo” place with the other dead characters from the show. She is debating why she died and if she should live because she doesn’t think that it is worth it… why, no one really knows, but she seems very mentally unstable… She meets her mother there because her mother has gone into cardiac arrest in the “real” world. When Meredith and her mother meet, her mother gives her a hug and says,
“You’re anything but ordinary.”
And Meredith decides to go back to the real world after being dead for about an hour and half and is perfectly fine. What is important in this part is that by Derek (the man) saying that to her mother in this clip, he ends up saving poor helpless Meredith’s life when her mother, changed by his wisdom lets Meredith know she is not ordinary. Thank goodness for Derek’s manliness.
This again supports Ingham’s ideas that men are portrayed as the voice of reason, they are the balancing force of women’s emotional susceptibility and, in this case, Meredith’s suicidal tendencies. Even though he was technically crying 20 minutes before.
Even though the show is not explicitly spitting out these sexist ideologies, they are still there. Maybe that’s why Grey’s is so popular because the show doesn’t really seem like its perpetuating any of these ideas – but deep down, underneath everything these ideologies are still present.
I’m not Six Feet Tall or Stupid
I am pretty tall though, but look past that.
I think that Fredrich’s article sells me a little bit short. While I am fully aware of the numerous studies that have been done on the negative effect of advertising, I sometimes get the impression that there are very few studies done where the intent is to shed a positive light on the advertising.
When I was younger, coming into my adolescence, I watched A LOT of television; TGIF was basically the best thing to ever happen to ABC and I was sad to see boy Meets World End… (I miss you Shawn…) And with TGIF came all of the advertising, that these supposedly scheming companies were clearly directing towards me.
And I saw it for what it was – ADVERTISING!!! I’m not stupid. I don’t have problems with my body because of advertising, I have problems with parts that tend to jiggle too much. Yes, I said jiggle. I don’t feel that I need to wear 7even for all Mankind jeans cause my ass will look perfect just like Beyoncé’s or Nicole Richie’s (two very different bodies).
Yes, I am sure that there are young girls who are being affected by this sexist advertising. Yes, there are still commercials that make women feel they are being subordinated by the machine, by the patriarchal values that dictate our society, but I think that there are other things in advertising that we need to worry about more than just the fact that models look better than we ever could in a pair of designer jeans.
Lets do a case study…
In the following print ad, what is the most alarming thing that you see?
(A) The Fact that the man is being waited on by the woman
(B) That her breasts are clearly on display
(C) That the man is having a great time while the woman’s face appears to be solemn showing that she doesn’t really like doing that the ‘MAN’ is clearly forcing upon her
(D) THE BLOODY LOGO ON THE BOTTOM THAT SAYS GLOBAL WARMING READY STATING THAT THE GREENHOUSE EFFECT AND ITS PARTS ARE JUST AS COOL AS DIESEL JEANS. GO!!! DRIVE YOUR CARS!!!
I think that this is what is wrong with advertising right now. This deserves a little more attention than the detrimental effect to women’s egos.
Besides, I like my butt more than Beyoncé and Nicole’s anyways.
I Wore a Velour Dress in Grade 9
It was the Christmas semi-formal, and I had just gotten my very first cheque from my part-time job as a grunt at an icky Greek restaurant, as if there are any OTHER kinds, and I went to the mall with my best friend Bonnie to pick out a dress and some snazzy shoes. Living in a VERY small town we only really had two stores to buy anything nice from, and I decided to go with the more class Smart Set. Then Bons pointed “IT’ out, a velour dress, with a holgraphic purpley effect, with a high neck and a low back.
I didn’t really like it. I thought it made my hips look too big, and my chest look flat. But Bonnie did, and she told me how fantastic it looked when I tried it on. She told me that there was no other dress to bring out my blue eyes, so I bought the dress, spending almost all of my measly $100 cheque.
I wore it to the dance that Thursday with white tights, under the recommendation of good old trendy Bonnie, and a pair of high heels which would, of course, make my already lanky figure look “statuesque.” I danced the night away to jock jams and November Rain, and was having so much fun that I completely forgot about how much I hated my dress.
Until I saw the pictures. I looked like some goth/clueless character, with this sausage-like body wrapped in that blue velour… I couldn’t believe that I had walked out of the house looking like that… moreover that my BEST FRIEND had told me how fantastic the dress had looked. If I could find the picture which I promise you, I have since burnt my copy and told Bonnie I would reveal her darkest secrets if she ever release hers, I would probably still be ashamed that I ever garbed my body in that atrocity.
“Putting too much weight in somebody else’s opinion of a piece of art [I know the dress isn't art, but it's a metaphor people!], that is a dangerous thing.”
I completely agree with this part of the Pitchfork article on the level of my velour dress and on the level of my music taste. Yes, I will read a review, and yes, if it is raving and sounds like the type of music I would like, I might go and take a listen. But, in all honesty, there are very few people’s opinions that I will allow enter while making a choice of my music repertoire. This isn’t to say that I don’t trust the other people enjoy the music, but in my terms, music is a VERY personal experience and I should make a very personal choice about what I am listening to – not just on some renowned music junkie’s word that it is spectacularly worldly and calming.
I think that your context in life enters into your choice of music just as it enters into your choice of clothing, or of passtimes. (Ahhhh, Bourdieu…) But seriously, your experience with a piece of music will probably be way different than mine. I mean, I HATE Nickleback. HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE them. If Pitchfork raved about them, which I am not saying they HAVE, I still woudn’t give … well a care.
Needless to say, if I ever have a gut feeling that some article of clothing makes me look like a velour wrapped sausage, I wont buy it, let alone wear it in public.
And yes, I also burned the dress, in a ritual with the pictures. No one was harmed, except the dress whose ugly souls came screaming out.
A Walk Down Memory Lane
Dance your cares away, worry’s for another day!
Yesterday me and my friends were basically in hysterics while reminiscing about our favorite children’s shows and trying to rememeber everything about them. When I was little I used to LOVE Fraggle Rock. Like LOVE so much that I thought that I was a member of the Fraggle Crew with Boomer and all.
When the show would come on, I would get so excited that I would line up all of my stuffed Fraggles, and the plastic toys from McDonald’s (funny how that corporation made it into my childhood memory) on the couch like they were going to watch the show with me and I would dance around while singing the Fraggle Rock song…
What was YOUR favorite childhood television show? Was it Today’s Special? Or was it The Polka Dot Door? Do you have any crazy stories about how you acted? I don’t pose this because I want an answer, but I think its so much fun to look back at the media you experienced when you were a child and see how you really believed that you were a part of the production… I bet you’ll have a good time.
For your viewing pleasure, the Fraggle Rock intro…
Down at Fraggle Rock *CLAP CLAP*
This is a very late note…
Paul was talking in class about how the show “Arrested Development” lends itself to a loyal fanbase who understand the inside jokes very well. Someone in class then put up their hand and said that Family Guy would probably be a better example of that since there are always running jokes and pop culture references. I think that South Park would probably be even better…
Just a thought.
Dear Mr. Smith,
Before I get into my response to your article aka condescending bitch-fest, I would first like to ask you a quick question. Does your neck ever get sore from carrying around your gigantic head all day long? I mean, do you work those muscles out? Just a thought… ponder this over some sherry, if you don’t have an answer for me right away. Your description of a movie goer’s experience may be valid for a cynical, sarcastic yuppie, with nothing better to do than complain, but my experience differed greatly from yours.
I attended the new film “Bridge to Terabithia” with my good friends in
Edmonton, Alberta to intentionally note my sociological experience with the audience.
While buying my ticket was quite an intense experience since the movie theater was insanely busy, I was not concerned with the line-up, rather in the conversations that I could hear around me. Everyone that I would estimate to be around my age was filled with anticipation to see a children’s book they loved dearly come to life. I could see and hear groups of children with their parents animatedly talking about the enchanted forest and how they wished that they could be a king or a queen, and what they would do.
Once I purchased my ticket for $11.50, I passed on the concession stand, which you said to be filled with “viscous oil products with orange cheeze whip on fried nachos, with yellow “topping,” with gallon jugs of liquid sugar” but not without regret. Those “viscious” treats are half the fun of going to a theater – walking out feeling like you’ll barf if you ever see popcorn again usually indicates a good film.
As I milled through the crowd with my friends, we made our way to cinema 10 with its luxurious “high backed” seats and settled in for the “show.” To me, this show was the very audience, but for everyone else it was the experience of something amazing. Yes, there were people jumping up in their seats when they got the slide questions right, and yes, there were people that I thought were going to choke if they ate their popcorn any faster, but when I saw them, I didn’t think that they were the dirt of the earth.
The cinema darkened and I could feel the excitement of the room heighten. All around me, hundreds of sets of white orbs gazed intently at the screen waiting for the coming previews for the summer’s blockbusters. The usual ads preceded the previews, but this wasn’t something that agitated me. You stated that there were ads on the television, but you could get up and turn off the volume and grab a glass of sherry, that you shouldn’t have to pay to watch *gasp* ADVERTISING, but welcome to the 21st century buddy, this is life, get over it. And there was talking, yes, and there was still munching, but this wasn’t enough for me to go over the edge and run home for my very own glass of sherry, even though your “article” made me want to drink a 40 ounce bottle of vodka.
When the movie started, I began to pick my sociological “subjects.” To my left, was a couple, who I will name Wes and Johanna. To my right, a single old man, who I will name Derek. And finally, directly in front of me, a group of ten adolescents around 15 of mixed company that I will call the “Emo-Patrol.”
Wes and Johanna
These two would have to be described as the epitome of movie going couples. Basically sitting in Wes’ lap, Johanna giggled and rubbed Wes’ cheek, telling him that she loved him and that she couldn’t wait to _____________ when she got home. They shared a soda and small popcorn and started making out about five minutes into the movie.
While you, Mr. Smith, might find this to be nauseating, I found this to be quite endearing. You would probably lament that these hormone-ridden fools should take their lip-locking, sweaty hand groping to their own privacy, but I felt that their outward actions is something that the world might need to pay a little more attention to, that sometimes, you need to show public affection for the one that you love.
Derek
I’ve always wondered about people who come to the movies alone. I always thought that maybe they didn’t have any company, or maybe they were social-rejects, and from the surface, I bet that you would think that Derek would probably have to fit this category. I mean, a matching sweat suit in XXL that he was definitely bursting out of with grease stains from the popcorn was all the evidence someone would probably need. My thoughts about this are, why would you have to go to a show with someone anyways? I mean you don’t talk to each other during the film – you always tell your friends to shut up when they are loud. Maybe he just likes to be immersed in the film.
Sadly, later when Derek went to get his popcorn refilled, he accidentally sat on his soda and it spilled all over his pants, something I am sure you would blame on his size and need for refills. When this happened, my heart went out to poor Derek, because the exact same thing happened to me last time I was in my hometown theater, and I am not currently in an XXL track suit, just have NO coordination.
The “Emo-Patrol” (My pièce de la résistance)
This group came in, about five minutes before the first night of this film, expecting to sit together, and of course, shuffled the audience around. This is something that I bet would drive you nuts, and you would have to note that watches must not exist in the youth population anymore because they can’t be made with enough spikes, or in a dark enough shade of black. I would just argue that one person was late, and the group was considerate enough to wait for their friend.
Armed to the teeth with My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy merchandise, these “life is pain” kids really made me think about the mixed company that you experience when you go to a film. You argue that these cinema experiences create a sameness that casts its shadow on every person in the windowless room, but I argue that you underestimate the contexts that each person brings with them in experiencing the movie. Each person brings their own experiences and therefore interacts with the film on a different level. This group appeared to love the movie as much as the children, elderly, and my friends, but when they were leaving the theater, one boy, who I will call Gerard with his side-sweep bangs couldn’t believe the special effects.
My friends hadn’t even noticed the special effects.
I didn’t notice much since I was staring at everyone around me, but I am sure someone else noticed the make-up, and some other new-media dork noticed the camera tilt.
What I wanted to tell you, in my very long fake letter to you, is that just because you have some sort of context that makes you above going to the cinema, does not mean that your opinion on why movie going sucks is applicable to the general population. Your cynicism is lost on me. Movie going might suck for you, but I will continue paying my $11.50 to watch really big things explode on a really big screen for years to come while showing popcorn down my gullet.
Sarcastically yours!
