Saying It Better Than I Ever Could: Chuck Klosterman Edition

So that was a long hiatus. But I'm back! My apologies to my legions and legions of fans for being so silent for awhile. Hopefully you will forgive me and trust that I have neglected you for so long because I have been extremely busy. Yes, I know, I'm just a "lazy grad student" but even we get overwhelmed sometimes.

Anyway, in today's episode of "Saying It Better Than I Ever Could", we look to the work of Chuck Klosterman.

Now, I rather enjoy reading Chuck Klosterman, having purchased a number of his books in the last year. He speaks to my weakness for intellectual arguments about (often trivial) pop-culture phenomenon. I must confess, I often don't even know what his point is, but the journey always keeps me engaged. I find myself following along feeling like his argument is important, even if I don't know why*. And I actually mean that as a compliment.

As the beginning of this post suggests, I am not a very prolific writer. Part of the reason for this is that I am busy. Another is captured in the following quote by Klosterman:

"Sometimes writing is like talking to a stranger who's exactly like yourself in every possible way, only (you) realize that this stranger is boring as shit."

- Chuck Klosterman, "Eating the Dinosaur". Scribner, 2009.

I've certainly started and canned a fair share posts. Which is particularly weird considering I have almost no expectation that anyone will actually read what I post. But there is something unsatisfying about posting something to the internet that even I am bored by. It just seems like I'm adding to the clutter.

And I will not stand for that. My standards are higher. At the very least, my fans deserve something like this post: a mediocre piece of work piggy-backing on someone else's talent.

* I am pretty sure Klosterman wrote something in this vein about Radiohead, but I spent the last 40 minutes looking for that quote and came up empty-handed. See, I'm even doing research for these blog posts!

The Symposium on What-Now?

This was written during a 12 hour train ride from Atlanta to New Orleans on July 16.

I have been criss-crossing the continent for most of the summer, with my latest travels taking me to Georgia (the American one). For those of you who consider me a good-for-nothing layabout student, I can assure you that this voyage actually qualifies as "for business." At least part of it.

I was brought to Georgia for the Symposium on Combinatorial Search (SoCS), an annual gathering of computer scientists whose main area of research is combinatorial search. The conference took place in Stony Mountain, Georgia which is approximately 30-45 minutes from Atlanta.

This was certainly a worthwhile event, as many of the top scientists in the field were on hand to present their latest work, discuss ideas for future research, and mingle in a social setting. In some sense, this two-day event is an onslaught of combinatorial search research. Part of this is due to the nine-to-five portion of each day being consumed with podium or poster presentations of state-of-the-art research, but perhaps the most productive portion of the symposium occurs outside of this formal structured component. This is because you eat with the group, you enjoy your coffee breaks with the group, and you wind down the rest of the day with the group (perhaps over a cold pint of Yuengling). And it is during these informal discussions, that many ideas for future research emerges.

Now I'm not going to pretend that I spent 2 and a half days talking only science (the half day coming in the form of an opening reception the night before the main portion of the symposium). It was great to see Zee German again, as I have not had much of an opportunity to speak to him since he left Alberta for his fatherland. And I certainly enjoyed having an opportunity to learn about the personal lives of researchers whom I have only known through their scientific output. But the common interest of all of the people in attendance is that of combinatorial search, and so it was this topic that dominated discussion.

As a PhD student still early into this latest degree and without a thesis topic yet decided upon --- don't worry Ma, this is true of almost everyone at this stage --- such an opportunity to survey the current landscape of your field, find out what people are interested in, and bounce ideas off of top minds, is immensely useful. And it is reasons like this that such symposiums or workshops can be so valuable.

Thoughts on the way back

I was recently travelling around the US, and will be describing and reflecting on a few of my adventures. Some of these posts were actually written during the trip including the following one which I wrote on July 20th.

Oof, I've been on the road a lot recently. This is my second 12 hour train ride in 5 days, and tomorrow I will make the 7 and a half hour plane trip back to Edmonton. So it isn't quite done yet, but the end is in sight. And I must say: I'm glad. While I like to take as many opportunities as I can to travel, it can be both physically and mentally draining. And I am at the point where I need some time to recuperate.

I admit that this isn't a particularly novel sentiment. But it certainly captures my current state of mind which longs for quieter days ahead without customs agents, security checks, early morning cab rides, and being confined to a small amount of space for large quantities of time. But I'm also looking forward to not discovering a new city for a while: to just being comfortable in a place I know well around people I know well.

Killing Time before a meeting with a One Paragraph Movie Review

I try to support Canadian films when I can, but a lame movie is a lame movie. And "Gunless" is a lame movie. The plot is cliched and not really entertaining, the characters are uninteresting, the cinematography is bland, the comic-relief is not funny, and the romance is unconvincing. Even the play on American and Canadian stereotypes is eye-roll inducing. While not unwatchable, it remains lame. Go watch "Canadian Bacon" instead if you are looking for a playful and amusing take on American-Canadian relations and stereotypes.

The Only Good Twitter Accounts are Fake Twitter Accounts

I don't know about you, but I've always found the parody twitter accounts much more entertaining than any real twitter accounts. In that end, I give you the musings of Dick Balenzano, a parody of me, Rick Valenzano.

Dick Balenzano is the creation of Joe Buscemi, who decided to create a character loosely based on me. He initially had it under my name, but I decided to rename the character "Dick Balenzano" since I am hoping that people will be googling for my actual name as a way to find my research, and I do not want them to get confused.

I have contributed from time to time, but I try to write as the character, not as myself. You should be able to tell which tweets are mine (there are very few of them), and which are Joe's since mine of are almost uniformly of lower quality. It turns out it is very difficult to write as a parody of yourself.

Any way, check out the thoughts of Dick Balenzano.  I suspect that if you know me you will be entertained.

Composure

Lost Week is on a brief hiatus, but it is certainly not over. In the meantime, I want to speak about Armando Galarraga.

As you probably already know, Galarraga threw a perfect game Wednesday night. Or at least he did in spirit. On what should have been the final out of the game, Jason Donald hit a ground ball to first baseman Miguel Cabrera who was pulled off the bag by the hit. Cabrera then tossed the ball to Galarraga who touched the bag and recorded the final out. Unfortunately, the first-base umpire, Jim Joyce, didn't see it that way. In the heat of the moment, Joyce blew the call at first and cost Galarraga the perfect game.

Galarraga was just about to pump his fists when he saw the umpire's call. He was clearly excited. But when he saw Joyce extend his hands to indicate his call, he somehow kept it together. Not only did he not get upset, he simply looked amused by the situation. He then collected himself and got the next batter out.

I don't know what's more amazing: how well Galarraga pitched, or how well he managed to keep his composure. This would have been only the 21st time in baseball history that someone threw a perfect game. It is a monumental achievement. And yet he simply shrugged off Joyce's bad call.

Players blow up all the time over missed calls (or calls that they incorrectly interpret as being missed), even at times where it doesn't matter in the slightest. This was a botched call that prevented Galarraga, for at least one game, from reaching a level of excellence that is so rarely achieved. And he shrugged it off!

I had never heard of this guy until last night. Now I have nothing but the greatest of respect for this man. My hat is off to you Armando Galarraga. You may not have thrown a perfect game, but certainly you have reached some sort of pantheon of class.

(By the way, the catch by Austin Jackson to maintain the perfect game in the 9th was just unbelievable. Needs to be seen to be believed. As was Galarraga's grin immediately thereafter)

Lost Week: Pitting Bloggers of Science against Bloggers of Faith

Last Sunday night, Lost ended with a two and a half hour extravaganza. This sparked a fury of conversation between Joe and I which was interrupted by the demands of real life. Neither of us were content to let it end with that, and so we have decided to let the dialogue seep on for awhile. As there is a real void of Lost related discussion on the internet by random people, we thought we would chronicle this discussion online on this here blog. Anyway, be forewarned that we will definitely spoil many major plot points for those of you haven't seen the show and plan on doing so.

The following entry was written by Rick.

You are completely correct to point out that we come from very different approaches to the show. Obviously we have a lot of common ground having known each other for so long. But we do differ slightly in our entertainment tastes, and we did consume this show in a completely different way. When a show ended on a cliffhanger, I could simply start the next episode but putting in the next DVD. You had no such luxury as you had to stay on the edge of your seat for whenever the next episode was delivered.

And perhaps I did the show a disservice watching it in the way I did. I found that consuming it in such a compressed time-span can be a bit overwhelming considering how much conflict is thrown at the viewer.  Because of this, the never-ending onslaught of obstacles did occasionally become tiresome.

As a result, I became somewhat jaded as the seasons wore on, and while I was still entertained, I became less and less convinced they would wrap things up in any over-arching ways. Let me badly abuse a Lost-based metaphor for a second: I was the Shepherdian cynic who was perplexed by your Lockian faith in the producers of the show. I was still enjoying the ride, but I just assumed they would never be able to tie it together.

My main issue with the show was that I felt that in an effort to constantly one-up some previous level of tension and conflict, the producers felt it necessary to keep jumping from one widely divergent sci-fi thread to another. I gave up hope that they ever could achieve narrative closure, which is why I was quite content with what I got.

So where do we take this discussion? From my vantage point, the obvious question is "Where did it all go astray?" which to me is interpreted as "At what point did it become impossible to close enough loose ends?" I suspect your Lockian interpretation will instead be the much more optimistic "What are the main plots points that I needed to be addressed, and could have been if they had a little more time?"

A few final thoughts. Obviously categorizing each of us in the tiny boxes of Locke and Jack is silly. These things aren't binary, and the analogy isn't even particularly apt. I mostly just like writing the word "Lockian." Makes me feel like a big man.

In addition, there is the possibility that the only reason I am bringing up this line of questioning is because I want to point to some specific event in the show that you found bothersome, to which I can respond with "No Joe, we have to go back." After all, I am a simple man with simple pleasures.

Rick

Lost Week: It's Like Shark Week, Except Different in Every Conceivable Way

Last Sunday night, Lost ended with a two and a half hour extravaganza. This sparked a fury of conversation between Joe and I which was interrupted by the demands of real life. Neither of us were content to let it end with that, and so we have decided to let the dialogue seep on for awhile. As there is a real void of Lost related discussion on the internet by random people, we thought we would chronicle this discussion online on this here blog. Anyway, be forewarned that we will definitely spoil many major plot points for those of you haven't seen the show and plan on doing so.

The following entry was written by Joe.

In the words of Dewey Cox “there’s something happening here, what it is ain’t exactly…. obvious”.  That quote correlates well to what I’ve taken away from the show, the finale, what the island was and what the show was really all about. The more I think about, the more I find myself disappointed with the writers’ chosen approach to conclude this amazing and historic show.  

As the urban idiom goes, “haters gonna hate”, but even haters must concede that Lost was an unprecedented (and likely to be unequaled) achievement of network television. It was the antithesis of most network goals in a sea of compartmentalized dramas and cheaply produced reality television. It was expensive, complicated, genre focused and exceptionally serialized to the point where each episode had to be watched in order, and along with 24, really kicked off the TV-on-DVD revolution. A show who’s driving focus ab initio was the finale. This was a show that achieved things in a way that Twin Peaks teased at without the benefit of an endgame (or the internet), and the X-Files flirted with but never embraced the hidden-clues-coming-together-at-the-end-you-have-to-watch-from-ep1-to-really-appreciate kind of storytelling Lost did. It was without hyperbole one of the best examples of what network television can be.

Before I get into things however, some general comments I believe are in order, before we delve into the nitty gritty of specifics throughout this week. For those who don’t know (which is everyone save for 3 people) I will be providing a divergent viewpoint than that of Rick throughout our discourse. I don’t imply viewpoint as in my opinion of the show/finale differs from his (though I suspect it might) but divergent in that I literally viewed the show from a different position than Rick. Not to suggested an air of authenticity or entitlement but I was “hardcore” as the kids say. Starting with the 3rd season four years ago, I was forced to wait a week between my episodes, and then months between seasons. These were incubation periods where the desire to find answers to the shows mysteries multiplied to critical conditions. Cliché though it may be to say, Lost wasn’t just “a show”, there was an entire sub-culture underneath it that the producers actively propagated that communicated to the fans that the island’s mysteries were integral to the show (more on this later). There were dozens of “podcasts” (like radio shows on very specific topics) that tossed theories back and forth and re-caped episodes. There were online interactive stories to occupy hardcore fans during the frequent hiatuses that provided more mysteries to the island. Take a look at some of them at LostPedia and understand how (perhaps other than Star Trek-dom though it lacks the overarching mystery) Lost became a part of audiences lives in a way most shows could never compare. And it is from this viewpoint that I can say the finale of Lost both left me sad to see it go and also significantly disappointed.  

Not disappointed with the final scenes of Jack stumbling to his origin point, or even the non-corporeal dénouement; in actuality I really enjoyed the finale 10 minutes of Lost and think they would have been perfect conclusions if there was more exposition throughout the 6th and final season. Lost was a show that frequently and consciously kept the viewer returning with a tantalizing world of mini-mysteries that the show runners promised time and time again would pay off. We were encouraged to be Lockian men of faith in contrast to Shepherdian viewers who walked away from the proverbial hatch button and assume the show couldn’t deliver on its promises. It’s easy for me to envision that JJ Abrams pitched this show and planned out the first episode and truly did have the foresight to say “and then the show will end with the flashbacks of the final season turning out to be a kind of purgatory with all these season 1 characters and the show ends with a plane taking off with whomever you choose to keep alive and Jack’s closing eye”. I’ll give them that, I think they had that in the bag all along, and it is quite a good conclusion. The problem that I’m beginning to realize is after that point, when JJ handed the show off to Damon Lindeloff and Carlton Cuse, they didn’t understand how to get there properly. They literally built mysteries on top of mysteries to keep viewers coming back only to go into the final season treading water to build to an interesting season ending twist and then said “the show is about the characters more than anything else”. To that I say horseshit (pardon my German). This show made its living on the promises of answering the many mysteries in a satisfying way. It is not simply a “character show” like Grey’s Anatomy or most television shows (not that there’s anything wrong with that).   A show like Friends is a character show, where if one is vaguely familiar with the show they might ask a fan “so who does Rachel end up with in the end?” As a Lost fan who works at a video store I’ve heard a myriad of questions from casual viewers and not one was “So, who does Kate end up with?” or “Will Sun and Jin ever be reunited?” I always hear “do they ever say what the island is?” or “what is the smoke monster?” or “why are there polar bears?”  These questions literally are the show. To abandon the mysteries in the final hour is an incredible disservice to the show even if the character conclusions were flawless.

To conclude my opening statements I put forward the following thesis: the conclusion of Lost provided exceptional, virtually perfect emotional closure to the series but hardly any narrative closure; as a show that built its longevity upon the foreshadowed  unknown being satisfyingly resolved it can only be described as, at best, disappointing.

Now, let’s begin.

A look back at Lost by some random over-educated dudes on the internet

I haven't had cable for a few years now, and even when I did, I didn't follow too many serial dramas. However, about a year ago, a friend of mine, Master Joseph Buscemi, implored me to get in on Lost before the show ended. Even though I respect the Master's opinion on television, movies, and pop culture, I resisted for awhile. I did so mostly because I enjoy being obnoxious, but also because I worried about getting sucked into a huge time-sink. In the end, I finally agreed and I even managed to catch up on the first 5 seasons of the show before the final season began.

Last Sunday night, the series ended with a two and a half hour extravaganza. This sparked a fury of conversation between Joe and I which was interrupted by the demands of real life. Neither of us were content to let it end with that, and so we have decided to let the dialogue seep on for awhile. As there is a real void of Lost related discussion on the internet by random people, we thought we would chronicle this discussion online on this here blog. Anyway, be forewarned that we will definitely spoil many major plot points for those of you haven't seen the show and plan on doing so.



Well, it looks like I (Rick) am kicking of Lost week, but what may turn into something bigger. Here goes: there were two main threads in Season 6: the wrapping up the on-island action with Jacob and the Man in Black being the driving force (I still can't believe they refused to give this guy an actual name); and, the parallel universe. The latter turned out to be a purgatory of sorts for most of the people who were on the island (but conspicuously not all) who constructed it so that they could be together when they go off into the afterlife. At least that's what I think it was. Regardless, I suspect we can agree that it was mostly the writers' way of having their their cake and eating it too.

They needed to be able to kill off characters for dramatic purposes. However, the audience had become quite attached to a number of these people. So the writers also needed a way to be able to treat them lovingly --- to let them ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. Well, not live, per se. But to go somewhere in the afterlife that we assume is happy. Perhaps back to the island, except this time it is a tropical paradise with monkey butlers, all the food they can eat, and fewer smoke monsters.

To be honest, I think it kind of worked. This may be because my expectations for the show dropped as I got through seasons 4 and 5, but I wasn't really disappointed. But what about the make-up of that group in purgatory? Like I said, there were definitely some conspicuous omissions. Eko probably didn't show up for practical reasons --- I suspect the actor wasn't interested. The actor playing Walt probably looks crazy old by now. But what about Michael? I guess he said his ghost was stuck on the island. I guess. But I didn't Lapidus either (full disclosure: I love Lapidus)? Miles gets to tag along, but nobody thinks about inviting Lapidus? He is the only reason any of you ever got off the island. He saved some of you TWICE! And then there is Sayid, who is just so happy to have found Shannon again. Do things just get really awkward when the two of them run into Nadia
in the afterlife?

Your turn, good sir.

Rick

I do love that movie

Then the Stallion sayeth 'If I can change, and you can change, then everybody can change.' And with that decree, the peoples of the world rejoiced, for the war, known for being of low temperature, had ended. Thanks to the Stallion and his eye, like that of a tiger.

     -- from Paulie's Letters to the Philadelphians

Saying It Better Than I Ever Could: Malcolm Gladwell on Writing

One of the things I have wanted to do with this blog is to highlight particular moments of clarity by writers, filmakers, artists, scientists, or really anybody who captures an idea/notion/belief that I've had/have, but could never express nearly that well. Today, I turn my attention to Malcolm Gladwell.

Today, I have demonstrated my incredible capacity for procrastination. In order to avoid my work, I have instead done the following: washed the dishes, knee stretches/exercises (which is usually something I procrastinate from and haven't done in months even if I am supposed to do them weekly if not more often), general web surfing, and hey, looky here, a blog post. Any way, in my continuing attempts to avoid "coding" (actually Mizar for those in the know), I picked up a book of essays by Malcolm Gladwell that, let's go with a somewhat obscure reference and call her Lula Mae (at least for now), lent to me. So far, I have only read the preface. In it, Mr. Gladwell drops the following piece of brilliance on us:

"The trick to finding ideas is to convince yourself that everyone and everything has a story to tell. I say trick but what I really mean is challenge, because it's a very hard thing to do. Our instinct as humans, after all, is to assume that most things are not interesting... We filter and rank and judge. We have to. There's just so much out there. But if you want to be a writer, you have to fight that instinct every day. Shampoo doesn't seem interesting? Well, dammit, it must be, and if it isn't, I have to believe that it will ultimately lead me to something that is."

--- Malcolm Gladwell. "What the Dog Saw and other Adventures." Little Brown and Company. 2009.

Gladwell made this remark in a discussion about where his ideas come from. I am obviously not a professional writer, but this is certainly something that I have found has plagued me when trying to come up with ideas for pieces for this blog. When it comes down to it, I don't believe that I am a particularly interesting person. And I don't necessarily mean that in a negative way (well ... maybe slightly). But simply put, I am not James Bond, nor a swash-buckling pirate, nor a jet-setting world-famous explorer. However, this does not mean I cannot write interesting things. Not that I do (or at least, that is up to you), but it is theoretically possible.

I have always aspired to be a better storyteller than I am. Since I am not a professional writer, the opportunities I have to research the lives of others and write about them is limited. But my ability to write about my own experiences is not. The challenge is to take my relatively straightforward existence, and make it interesting to my audience. Discussing the work that I do in a way that is both accessible, and, almost more importantly, exciting to those without the same background as me, is another challenge.

Sometimes I have succeeded in spite of this challenge, but more often I have not. Certainly practice helps in finding ways to make the seemingly unexciting into something interesting. Luckily, I have no shortage of things to procrastinate from.

Back on the Horse or The Continuing Misadventures of Rick

I've kind of neglected this space for awhile. But with this post, I am back with a vengeance! By which I actually mean I will probably continue to write things poorly, sporadically, and not very often.

It's been a very busy week, and in amidst all of my work, I forgot to pay my rent. This occurred for a few reasons. First of all, my memory is comparable to that of an ant. Secondly, February is a short month. Thirdly ... well, I don't have any more. And that second one is weak. When it comes right down to it, I'm just an idiot.

I eventually did remember, but it was not because of any inspired moment of responsibility. No, it was because I needed a 10 minute break from work, and so I picked up the ole guitar. I started to play a few tunes, and somehow picked out "Don't Worry, Be Happy" as a nice place to start. And when I got to the line that said "The landlord say the rent is late," I froze in recognition of my own stupidity.

All I know is that without Bobby McFerrin, my late fee probably would have been even higher than $25 I had to fork over today as I wondered exactly how it was that I function in normal society.