Source or Content?

What’s more important; the source, or the content?

As a lover of pop culture things (but not necessarily pop culture), I tend to engross myself in the arts. Well, kind of. But for the sake of this, I’m saying that, like most of you, I have a strong affinity toward music and movies, literature and quotes, and to an extent, paintings and photography. When it comes to the importance, the meaning, the beauty, the magic, the stand-the-test-of-time brilliance of a piece of that mess of things that I’ll refer to as ‘pop art,’ at what point can we separate the act from the actor, the quote from the author, the painting from the artist?

Movies: Hundreds of people go into the production of a movie, the notables being the credited cast, director, producer, and writer. Is it possible to shake the history of these names in order to enjoy the movie as a singular object in the history of film? I think it’s crap that A-list and top-grossing movie stars get a free pass when it comes to making these mind-numbing money-suckers. Actors I enjoy, actresses that I choose to stick on when paging through my guide, make sub-par movies that generally get accepted because of who they are and what they’ve accomplished. Directors and writers too. How long did M. Night get a free pass after The Sixth Sense? Is there a length of time or quality of production threshold that limits the amount of success you can glean from your previous accomplishments? Nicholas Cage, I’m looking your way. Even my beloved Will Smith could stand to reinvent himself.

Music: Ever heard a song that you’ve never heard before and thought, ‘hey this is kind of good,’ then someone tells you that it’s the new Limp Bizkit and you feel nauseous? Happened to my brother. Contrary, ever purchased the new CD by one of your favorite bands, popped it your car on the drive home, and for the next week literally had to convince yourself that this was good music and that you made the right decision? Any band that I listen to based on my discovery of said band is instantly better, which is why people hate when their bands go pop. Anything that no one else knows about: sweet as hell. Anything that everyone else loves: overplayed dog shit. Is it possible to listen to a previously unreleased song without any influence of the past, be it trying to figure out who it is, or, who it sounds like? A metal band (Trivium) came out with a fantastic first album (Ascendancy), a complete dud with their second release (The Crusade), causing me to lose hope, only to revive my interest with a stellar third disc (Shogun). Rarely can a band turn you off with a CD so much without completely jading your impression of them, then come back and redeem themselves (see: Slipknot).

Quotes: Is the content of a quote more important than who said it? I recently referenced a new, mythological, fantastic, head-chopping and dragon-breeding show on HBO (Game of Thrones) with a quote I found appropriate. Did the quote, about the only god being the god of death, and the only thing you say to it is ‘not today,’ did that no longer relate because it was said by a show based in unrealistic circumstances? I happen to think that the great minds of our time probably spit out some hogwash over their years. Now, if you truly have a great mind, there’s a good chance that much of what you choose to have your name dashed afterword is going to be worth considering, but the inverse? Is it possible for the words of the wise to come from somewhere other than the wise? A quote, like most art, is only what you make of it. They are free for interpretation. Even if the writer is standing next to you, telling you what it means, how you use it is void of their influence. An impressive, eye-opening, chill-spawning, lavishly laid out quote is just that, regardless of the source.

This discussion continues for literature, paintings, photography, fashion (don’t even get me started), athletics, lawyers, politicians, universities, brand names; the list is nearly endless. We overlook the details and see the name attached. We let past experiences, critics’ responses, pop culture ebb and flow, and dozens of other outside influences pollute what should be a clear palate. We use these shortcuts to save time and maintain face. The reality of it is, a bad song, and bad movie, a stupid quote, they shouldn’t get a free pass. Try to take in the content void of its source and see what else is out there for you to enjoy, explore, and share.

Looking Back at Death

Does the way that someone dies change how you view them? Short answer: Yes and no. Long answer: Keep reading.

A.) No

Chris Henry (NFL WR) was honored during Week 15 of the 2009 NFL season by beginning each game with a moment of silence before kickoff. He died relatively tragically, falling out of the back of a moving pickup truck driven by his fiancé and mother of three of his children. His former teammates, coaches, and current family were noticeably shaken by the event, lamented at the progress he had made, and, as his former coach said, they ‘watched a guy mature as a young man.’

Sounds good in theory, until you realize that the man, over the course of the three years before his death, and all while playing in the NFL, he:

• Got a speeding ticket without a valid driver’s license and with marijuana found in his shoes (Dec 2005)
• Was arrested for multiple gun charges including concealment and aggravated assault with a firearm (Jan 2006)
• Allowed three underage females (15, 16, and 18) to consume alcohol in a hotel in KY, one of which accused him of sexual assault (Apr 2006)
• Was arrested for drunk driving in Ohio (Jun 2006)
• Was suspended (1 game) by the NFL for two games for violating the league’s personal conduct and substance abuse policies (Oct 2006)
• Was suspended again (8 games) by the NFL for violations of the NFL’s personal conduct policy (Apr 2007)
• Allegedly assaulted a valet attendant in KY (Nov 2007)
• Was arrested a second time for violating his probation from the Jan 2006 arrest (Dec 2007)
• Punched a man and threw a beer bottle through the window of his car (Mar 2008)
  (Source: Wikipedia)

The circumstances of your death do not interest me if you were a bad person and lead a shitty life. It might be unfair to judge someone based on a three year span in which a man came into more money than he could ever imagine, but the track record alone is enough to not miss this man when he died. For his family and friends and teammates, it might seem tragic, and they might try to glorify his attempts at correcting his lifestyle, but when you break it down and look at what he did, aside from literally putting his life in danger to protect another, it’s hard for me to imagine a situation in which the way in which he died would make up for the abysmal way in which he lived his last few years on earth.

B.) Yes

Former Jackass and CKY star Ryan Dunn recently died in a car accident. ‘Preliminary investigations suggested that the car has been traveling between 132-140 mph in a 55 mph zone,’ and ‘a toxicology report showed Dunn had a blood alcohol level of .196, more than twice the legal limit’ (Wikipedia).

From everything I know, Ryan Dunn was a good guy. As a group of friends that made their money by filming themselves doing stupid stunts, they were down to earth and connected with fans. There didn’t seem to be a level of elitism that young and rich tends to bring out. His participation in the Jackass franchise involved putting his body in harm’s way, giving up his body for crazy stunts, and occasionally risking his life, all in the face of entertainment and pleasing his fans. From everything I ever saw or heard of Ryan Dunn, I have no reason to believe that he lead anything but a decent life with good friends and family.

So what was my first thought when I heard the circumstances of his death? Fine. Not included in the Wikipedia article is how the passenger of his Porsche also died. You want to get hammered and drive 130mph, endangering your passenger, and god forbid, any stranger that may have been on that road at that specific time, completely void of concern? Fine. But I won’t shed a tear when the situation turns ‘tragic.’ The way I look at it, the world is a safer place without him. That’s evolution, baby. Survival of the fittest, or in this case, the not heinously stupid. Stupidity was his career, and danger walked hand in hand with his fame and success. But there’s place when entertainment ends and reality begins: when you start endangering the life of others.

I no doubt sympathize with Ryan’s friends and family that he leaves behind. The void in their lives cannot be filled, and in no way do I understand what he meant to them. But the over-pronounced lack of judgment in this case cannot be overlooked. Roger Ebert was lambasted for his initial tweet the day of Dunn’s accident, posting “Friends don’t let jackasses drink and drive,” and maybe his timing was too soon (less than 12 hours after the announced death), but I can’t help but to agree with him.

Life, above all things, should be cherished. Those who don’t take care of their own are one thing, those that don’t take care of others’ is different. I recently heard a fantastic quote during the brilliant first season of Game of Thrones regarding death:

“There is only one god and his name is Death. There’s only one thing we say to Death – ‘Not today.’”

132mph and .196 BAC don’t say ‘not today.’ They say, ‘why not, I’ve had a good run.’ Well the person who says that does not get a glimmer of my respect, nor my compassion in passing. Save the ones that care about life. Is it any surprise that his emergence to stardom began with videos entitled ‘Camp Kill Yourself?’ Mission accomplished.

What was left of his Porsche

Slut Walk - 6/4/2011

About 10 days ago, I had the opportunity to spend some time with one of my best friends while taking place in a rather historic event in the streets of Chicago, and, despite wearing shorts and short sleeved tops, we were on the overdressed side of the occasion. The name of the even was Slut Walk, and it reminded me a few things.

The event spawned out of response to the now infamous representative from the Toronto Police Service who, in January, was quoted saying "Women should avoid dressing like sluts in order to not be victimized." The mission of the event, as quoted from their website, was 'to enforce the truth that those who experience sexual assault are never at fault-- no exceptions. We seek to combat a culture that teaches "don't get raped," as opposed to "don't rape."' As a topic that lives near to my heart, along with the chance to spend a few hours with the one of the few responsible for me caring so much about this in the first place, I set out on a warm and sunny Saturday in the city to go be a part of something that I believed in. Aside from missing about 75% of the march and never popping my shirt off, there were some interesting things to note.

First, and seemingly obvious, it's amazing what happens in this city. As someone who is usually somewhere between recovering and day drinking on a Saturday afternoon, it seriously amazes me how much activity is existing outside of my world, and makes me anxious to be more aware of the possibilities. Between catching the end of a breast cancer walk, passing by the edge of millennium park, and joining the march that we sought after, there was more activity within a six block radius that I had seen in months. I know this isn't what people necessarily mean when they refer to 'getting out and exploring in the city, trying new things, and going on adventures' (the most cliche aspect to most Chicago-based dating profiles), but just being awake, outside, in the loop, under the sun, and not drinking (despite it sounding like a good idea), it was an awesome change of pace.

Second, and actually related to the event, it's a special feeling to be a part of something that's bigger than you. Whatever the cause, the whole is definitely greater than the sum of the parts, as in, each of the hundreds of participants and organizers might be able to influence the world in which they live in small doses, but not until we all came together at one event was that message loud enough to be heard. As someone who barely fits the description of an activist, I can get lost in the day to day monotony of culture that at times seems too overbearing to influence. Being removed from the environment that inspired me in the first place definitely had its affect, and the greater the distance between me and my original platform, the harder it is to continue the spirited attempt to change those around me, but the rekindled emotion that I felt while listening to the speakers and observing the crowd of those passionately in support of the same cause, it was uplifting, it struck some heartstrings, and it made me remember why I ever got started down this path.

Third, and most importantly, there are varying degrees of support and activism you can choose to show, but everything is important. I am resigned to the idea that I am not a vocal leader. I do not like to confront people. I can be a pretty lazy person. And for the most part, have a thick skin and a slippery back (ya know, because I let stuff slide off it so easily). So in all fairness, I am not the ideal candidate for activism. A quiet, passive, and unmotivated go-with-the-flow probably won't rival the loud-speaker toting, in-your-face type in regard to making a statement, but like I said, there are more ways to be involved. My presence alone, and the presence of my friend, our inclusion with this group and for this cause bolstered the unity of a group of strangers with the same goal. My blank face, Chicago Fire baseball hat, blue shirt, and cargo shorts were nothing to note, but to those around me, those who care, my actions stood as loud as my words. I might not have yelled when the rest of the crowd cheered in support (but I clapped!), and I didn't make a sign as clever as 'PEACE, LOVE, SLUTS!,' and I didn't even bust out my lingerie in a proclamation of 'it doesn't matter how I dress!,' but I'll continue to be a body included in the head count, a silent role model, a lead by example, not by screaming leader, and be content with my role, knowing that everything I do to help is, in fact, help, and to never lose sight of that, no matter how small it might be.

Real Reality Dating

So, Monday night, I watched the second installment of The Bachelorette, the hit ABC show. To be fair, I missed the first hour, but like a fist pump from fate, it airs in two hour segments for its entire run. Count your blessed stars now, it’s nearly a miracle (not to mention the indescribable gift of full length episodes appearing online). So in my abbreviated viewing, I saw our feaurette, Ashley, legitimately make out with three of the suitors. Now, I’m sure there are some time lapses, so it’s hard to get a firm grip on the exact progression, but I had to stop at this one.

Besides my overwhelming desire to yell out certain descriptive words toward her behavior, I couldn’t help but to explore the structure of this show. You have 25 guys vying for one girl. So throughout the show, there is backstabbing, foul play, broken bonds, and about every style of ‘game’ you could imagine, including mask wearing and wine making. So they load a bunch of seemingly diverse candidates into limos and deliver them to the door of Ashley. While only getting a few minutes of camera time with about half of the guys, she’s already required to give out roses and whittle the group down by 7 (I think?). So almost solely on first impression, some guys are never even given the chance at wooing. So long, drunk, passed out guy. Adios humble New York meat chopper. Good luck frosted tips and lacking a tie, maybe next time. And the crowd is down to 18.

Move to the most current episode, where a group date (that I admittedly haven’t watched yet) and two one-on-one dates took place. With some guys easily in the pole position, and others already a lap down, still spinning wheels in first gear, the gap between first and last is at its greatest. The dates were pretty memorable, including a trip to Vegas, dinner in the Bellagio fountain, dancing and kissing, ankle deep in water, in front of a live band, while being the only people in the audience, and a slew of other fancy drinks and tasty food. Would I have loved to schedule one of those, cameras or not? You bet your ass. But, as the setting and the format of the show allows, Ashley finds herself alone with a few of her favorites, gives out a bunch of kisses, a little tongue, three early roses (even though, through the magic of TV, we all know Bentley is just a douche bag with major game), and an aura of uncertainty about the remaining 15, still including the masked marauder (who gets stymied moments before removing his disguise). Barely able to sift through the weeds to find the flowers (pun intended), she cans three more dudes, who, while disappointed, I’m sure knew they weren’t running with the same horsepower under the hood.

While I only plan on watching this show until my buddy is no longer coming up roses (or so I say), I can forecast a little. Ashley will continue to date the guys, with the ones she likes more and more getting the most amount of face time. A few story lines will be fabricated to create drama. But the constant theme throughout will be each guy vying for Ashley’s attention, trying to stay in the game, to stay ahead of the pack, to find every little inside turn, every fast track, and to ultimately survive a concentrated and brutal attempt at dating.

Hey, um, doesn’t that sound a lot like dating, minus the fabricated drama. Actually, lies belong in there too ('oh, sorry, I have a thing tomorrow night. I’ll call you next week'). The only thing missing from the real world of dating are the directors. Otherwise, going on multiple dates with different people at the same time? Completely normal. Overlapping passionate kisses between two or even three possible lifetime mates? Completely normal. Doing everything you can to stand out against the pack and flash your beautiful peacock feathers? Completely normal. 100% eliminating seemingly normal candidates based on taste alone, without even trying to get to know them? Completely normal. Having to decide between two people that you honestly care about, but happen to be in your life at the exact same moment? Completely normal.

I don’t think the numbers on successful marriages after The Bachelor or The Bachelorette are too high, but, could they be so much worse than the national average? Probably not. Just saying, there are worse ways of finding someone to spend your life with. I hope, for Ashley’s sake, she picks JP. Not that I’m going to watch and find out or anything.