Hollywood Writers On Strike; Hollywood Barely Notices

Now imagine if the special effects guys went on strike... There'd be chaos!

Yes, it seems that a threatened strike by the Writer's Guild of America has materialized, complete with the idiotic posturing and unbelievable give-and-take which is a staple of many of the cheesy screenplays by its members which now won't be getting made. It all boils down to a squabble over DVD royalties, which fat-cat producers and studio executives alike cling to like studio executives and fat-cat producers alike cling to their tiny silver spoons (whose contents, naturally, they pay for with all those clung-to royalties).

Still, for those of us in new media, this could be a boon. In fact, I am rushing my blog sitcom into pre-production from pre-pre-production where it's been languishing for months as I've struggled to keep up with a self-imposed editorial quota designed to ensure me no meaningful life away from this computer. Now that I have a show to write, star in, and film in addition posts to research, write, and publish I should be dead by spring.

The last writer's strike, some of you may remember, was at the turn of the century; it was marked by a rise in the proliferation of reality television like Survivor, for which those responsible should be shot at dawn. Make no mistake - reality television is written, it's just not scripted, and therein is a semantic hairsplitting worthy of Bill Clinton (depending, of course, on what your definition of "is" is).

Rest assured, at the Pop Culture Institute there will be no labour action; as these things go, you couldn't pick a better scab than me!

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Today's Sermon: Catholicism by Kathy Griffin

I can scarcely believe it myself, but this is the first time in almost 1700 posts that I have shown Kathy Griffin. You, dear reader, can rest assured that I have taken myself in hand and punished myself for this oversight.

Here then, appropriately enough for a Sunday, is one lapsed Catholic's take on the foibles of her co-religionists.
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Best Wishes Your Majesty & Your Royal Highness

Princess Galyani Vadhana, elder sister of Thailand's King Bhumibol Adulyadej (Rama IX) and one of that kingdom's greatest humanitarians, has been in Bangkok's Siriraj Hospital since June, where she is being treated for abdominal cancer and, more recently, a cerebral embolism.

The King himself has been a patient there since October 13th, having experienced weakness due to a blood flow disorder, the Royal Household Bureau has stated.

The King - who last year celebrated 60 years on the throne - is reportedly making progress in his recovery, as is the Princess. Since being in hospital both the King and the Princess have received throngs of well-wishers - between 4,000 and 5,000 per day are reportedly visiting the hospital - as well as letters from Elizabeth II, Japan's Emperor Akihito, and King Abdullah II of Jordan.

[S O U R C E]

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1666: A Year in Review

The year 1666 was supposed to be the year the Earth ended, seeing as the Mark of the Beast - 666 - is right there in it.

Instead, it was called the Annus Mirabilis, or Year of Miracles, by its contemporaries, the name also being the title of a poem by John Dryden which was published the following year. Despite the utter destruction of London (hot on the heels, as it were, of a terrible plague in 1665), the year was fairly peaceful for the times, with only minor skirmishes between the English and Dutch navies.

Not only did the burning of London reduce the severity of successive plagues (at least, bubonically speaking), it cleared the way for the rebuilding of the muddy, thatched hovels of the medieval City with many a Baroque splendour; furthermore, in Oxford and Cambridge, a flowering of scientific and mathematical knowledge poured forth. Many of Sir Isaac Newton's greatest discoveries date from this year, not to mention the foundation of Sweden's Lund University and the French Academy of Sciences.

Those who died that year include the Dutch landscape artist Frans Hals and the builder of the Taj Mahal Shah Jahan, who was buried in his splendid creation next to his beloved Mumtaz Mahal.
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Mini-Milestone: 1666

Coming, as this does, hot on the heels of yesterday's state of the blog address, the challenge is to say something here that won't duplicate what I said previously. Which should be easy enough to do, given that I always seem to have something to say, not to mention seeming to have an opinion on everything (which is a little trick I do with mirrors), and a horror of repeating myself. The real challenge today, though, is in saying anything at all because I'm so damn tired.

In honour of this mini-milestone, then, I closed the boring old poll, mainly because I finally thought of a replacement, which I'll leave up until it bores me or I think of yet another (or, miracle of miracles, someone out there suggests another one). Four people voted in the old one, and the winner was current events. So I'll be writing more current events which, in addition to the earlier suggestion of "more sex" oughta put me right out of my comfort zone where, ironically, I'm most comfortable.

A n y w a y... I've often spoken about how the intent of this blog has changed since I began it, but I've been more reticent when it comes to talking about how I've changed during the same period. Approaching 1700 blog posts (which, even if the average one consisted of 100 words, is, by my calculator, a shitload of words) I have suddenly come to realize that I am not the same person on this end of them that I was on the other. 170,000 words is 3-4 novels' worth; not, maybe, a huge achievement for Vikram Seth, but from my point of view I feel like Shakespeare.

Even though writing a blog is a different discipline than writing a novel the act of putting this many words in one place has had a transformative effect on me; I no longer feel like a failing novelist but a successful writer, publisher, and (in the last month) editor as well. The ensuing sense of confidence is beginning to spill over into the rest of my personality, which previously could not be described as confident even by an imagination greater than my own. More on that in the days and weeks ahead...

The Canada Council - in its wisdom - won't give a writer any grant until that writer has published three books (or the equivalent), an asinine rule if ever there was one, seemingly designed to support those writers whose work has already found its niche in the marketplace, while suppressing new work - in contravention of its own mandate. I've always said that I would never take a grant from the Canada Council, loath as I am to align myself with any elite; however, people change, and even though the Canada Council's politics and perspective are anathema to me, the idea of free money with which I might buy a laptop, travel to New York City - oh, and support the furtherance of Canadian culture and ideas, blah blah blah - is an appealing one.

The task ahead - now that I've written the equivalent of my first three books - is to begin the arduous process of applying for one of those elusive, lucrative grants which, once I'm awarded one, will free me up to take this bad boy to the next level: self-sufficiency. Not only do I want this blog to pay for me and the lavish lifestyle to which I intend to become accustomed, but for my contributors (present and future) and theirs as well.

The humanitarian aims I first stated on January 26th, 2006 - the day this blog was founded - remain in place; using pop culture as a lens with which all human endeavour can be observed, educating through entertainment (ie: Edutainment), and the bringing together of disaparate cultures in a defense against corporate globalization are and will always be the reasons why I sit in that chair every day and spool out the things I do.

Thanks again for reading,

MSM

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Burning Issue: Translink

Yet another Vancouver bus driver has been assaulted - this time by twin Santa Clauses!

A Translink driver working Hallowe'en night saw two girls dressed as Santa, so she pulled over to give them candy; for her trouble she was dragged off the bus and assaulted. Unable to continue, her passengers transferred to another bus. When the driver returned to her ride she found that it had been torched, with extensive damage to the driver's seat and dashboard area.

Total cost to repair the bus: $100,000.

Stories like this make me so mad I scarcely know what to say or do. I try always to be compassionate, but at the same time that well is almost always dry, while there's usually a fresh pile of ass kickings just a-piling up on my desk next to me. On second thought, I'd better move those.

Another problem exists in the media too; they'll report on this side of the story but there won't be any follow-up, which leaves people like me hanging. I want to know why they would do such things - even though at best I'm sure we'd get a sullen "I d'no" and a shrug from the teenagers in question. I want to know that these two bitches have to work two jobs for ten years just to pay the deductible for the damage they've caused. I want to know why they've been so badly parented that they could even conceive of such a thing. I need closure, dammnit!

Of course, there were no CCTV cameras near the incident, and since the assailants were in costume it isn't likely that they'll ever be caught; the only hope is that someone saw and has the guts to report them.

[S O U R C E]
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A State Of The Blog Address

It's official! October was the most productive month yet at the Pop Culture Institute. 247 posts easily beats the previous record held by March, in which I made 214; this puts my stated goal of attaining 2,008 posts by New Year's Day 2008 a likelihood.

It's also the month the royal we became a literal we as I welcomed a new contributor in Seumas Gagne, whose three posts alone have generated nearly as much traffic as my 244; there was a while there when, if one were to Google "Dumbledore Unrequited", his article came up first, which means Mr. Gagne is well-connected to the zeitgeist. It also means that I must be some kind of super genius for retaining him; once I figure out how to make this puppy pay for itself he will be making out like a bandit.

There is still much to do, which is always the way with me; never content to rest on my laurels (which, besides everything else, are pointy) I am always looking at new places to make improvements. The recently added ClustrMap (located to your right, beneath the links) came from Library Muscle Guy, and gives me something else to obsess over, so thanks for that Tank.

I have just about gotten over my lack of comments - mainly because I look at some of the comment threads at sites like Joe.My.God and think I wouldn't care to play host to the name calling and didacticism I see over there; and that's one of the good sites. I've stumbled across some blogs where the comment rolls qualify as hate crimes, and not just on YouTube either.

I have even gotten over the relatively low number of page hits we get, since I am able to see now that they are trending upwards in the preferred manner (ie: gradually). It looks like quite a few people subscribe to me via Google news reader (which blog friend Y|O|Y pointed out to me the other day - thanks for the heads up!). Viral marketing via HaloScan on several sites also appears to be generating results, as is a similar effort via YouTube.

Another suggestion from Y|O|Y is that I ramp up the sexual content to draw in readers; how exactly to increase sexual content when I am essentially a functional celibate eludes me. Plus there's the other matter of how to fit it in (!) which I will be discussing with my team over the next few weeks. Not to worry; I have a few ideas up my sleeve, and even more up my pant leg.

So now the thing that sticks in my craw is how to increase my authority at Technorati - it's been stuck at 7 since I joined, and there are no indications on their website (that I can find) how to increase it. Suggestions, anyone?
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QUEEN'S NEPHEW IN GAY SEX BLACKMAIL SHOCKER

The British media, bound as it is by some of the toughest anti-libel rules in all of the the civilized world, has been unable to print the name of the Queen's relative who has recently found himself being blackmailed; all they could say is that the victim is the Queen's relative and not someone on the Civil List.

Naturally, my hopes were pinned on the Earl of Wessex at first, on account of what a ponce he's always been. When I heard though, that the relative was close to the Queen but carried out no official duties I found myself with a real head-scratcher. The Queen's close family is vast, and since they're English they all seem a little bit gay.

So I pondered and I pondered and I pondered some more, and gotten all the way down Her Majesty's family tree as far as the Earl of Harewood, when I figured I'd better investigate further before I burst a blood vessel in my eye; after about three minutes I hit Google for the answer, and had my answer in three seconds.

Good old Google; it knows all, it tells all.

David Armstrong-Jones, the only son of Princess Margaret (now known as Viscount Linley), is the victim; since there's been no hint of a scandal - let alone no hint of gay - about him ever, this was quite a shock. More shocking still: the two blackmailers aren't some oiks from down the pub either, but described as socialites. Well, they're social climbers at least, which is near enough the same thing these days.

Now the fact that a British upper-class twit does cocaine ought to be no shock to anyone (and, since they've been educated at public school, neither should they be any strangers to man-on-man fellatio), but I'm having trouble integrating this knowledge. Admittedly, he is a furniture designer, which is more of a gray area than an outright gay area, but still...

I'm tempted to believe the story is false; whether or not it is, blackmail is a serious crime, and Ian Strachan and Sean McGuigan should consider themselves lucky their heads are not up on pikes outside the Tower of London today.

[S O U R C E]
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King Visits Queen

Saudi Arabia's King Abdullah was greeted by some of that famous British hospitality when he arrived in the UK Monday; he was jeered by crowds along the processional route, and many of those - including the leader and members of the Liberal-Democrats - invited to a banquet in his honour on Tuesday boycotted in protest. Given the appalling display of bad manners (and not just in this instance) it's no wonder Muslim countries are reticent when it comes to working with the West.

Admittedly, the chilly reception isn't surprising, considering the role his country is reputed to play in the training and finance of terrorism (and al-Qaeda in particular); additionally, Saudi Arabia has an appalling record on issues like human rights. Still, it's highly unlikely that any of that will be remedied by rudeness, either.

Fortunately, the 82 year-old sovereign has greeted far worse dictators far more graciously during her tenure in Buckingham Palace; Her Majesty's legendary aplomb was out in full force, as it was when she greeted the Nicolae Ceauşescu and his wife in June 1978.

"The relationship between our two kingdoms is one of mutual benefit, learning and understanding. So, King Abdullah, custodian of the two holy mosques, I warmly welcome you to this country," she said in a speech at the banquet.

While in London, King Abdullah will also be meeting with the Prince of Wales regarding The Prince's Trust and with Prime Minister Gordon Brown.

[S O U R C E]
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"It's Still Rock and Roll To Me" by Billy Joel

The crowd at GM Place Tuesday night spanned three generations - I saw kids under ten and a few my parent's age - and they filled nearly every seat; in the course of ninety minutes they went from sedate to screaming as Billy Joel and his band unrolled a string of hits spanning more than 20 years, from 1971's Cold Spring Harbour to 1993's River of Dreams.

Coming off a six-month break in the midst of a two-year world tour, there were few glitches (a couple of missed lighting cues) but otherwise much strong musicianship in the tight set. It being near Hallowe'en, Joel treated us to a few bars of Alfred Hitchcock's theme - Charles Gounod's Funeral March of a Marionette - and the first two verses of Monster Mash!

There was another a surprise number as well; in the midst of the concert Joel donned a guitar and announced that one of his long-time roadies was going to come out and perform a "sacred song". The apathy generated by that announcement was such that I think I even heard a few people boo. Then out walked a frankly scary looking gentleman - seriously, like an extra on The Sopranos - who proceeded to tear the roof down with a rousing rendition of AC/DC's Highway to Hell, to tumultuous applause and sustained audience participation.

A three-song encore closed the night; after the second - and my personal favourite, Only The Good Die Young - Joel made to leave the stage without playing the one we'd waited all evening to hear. As he stepped away from the piano the booing started; stepping toward to piano the cheering started, and on it went for about thirty seconds - back, boo, forth, cheer - until at last he sat down, donned his harmonica strap, and played that familiar opening refrain...

Singing along with a crowd of more than 20,000 to Piano Man I was struck by just why it is musicians put up with years of touring, lousy gigs, and disrupted family life; simply put, it's the adulation stupid. To sit onstage like that and hear a crowd that size singing your song back at you must be the greatest feeling there is for an artist.

Much thanks to my friend Leanne Padgett for the company, Orca Bay Entertainment for the venue, and Billy Joel for a lifetime of entertainment.
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5.6 Quake Rocks San Francisco

An earthquake rumbled through the San Francisco Bay area - including San Jose and Oakland - Tuesday evening at 8:04 PM local time; tremors could be felt as far away as Palo Alto.

The United States Geological Survey confirmed that the quake was located 5 miles northeast of San Francisco's Alum Bay neighbourhood, in the vicinity of South Bay, approximately 5.7 miles deep.

Although rated at 5.6 on the Richter Scale, it was enough to give people a fright; only minor damage is being reported, though, and so far there are no reported injuries or deaths.

[S O U R C E]
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"You're Only Human (Second Wind)" by Billy Joel

For a while after this video was released in 1986 it was a terrific solace to me. Those final years of high school really took their toll, and many were the times I wanted to find myself a bridge and be done with it. Fortunately, I was living in Saskatchewan at the time - the highest point in the province is about ten feet, so the worst I could have done was broken my legs.

Plus, the guy Billy Joel saves is hella cute... Come to think of it, that was around the time that it occurred to me if I were to kill myself I'd never get any more of that sweet, sweet eye candy. Hey, whatever works, I say.

You can bet that when this song comes up in his set list (did I mention I got free tickets to see Billy Joel at GM Place on Tuesday?) I'll be singing along.
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"We Didn't Start The Fire" by Billy Joel

This is easily the most pop culture of Billy Joel's videos, making it the ideal fit for inclusion here at the Pop Culture Institute.

Did I mention I got free tickets to see his concert tomorrow at GM Place in Vancouver? True, the seats are in the nosebleed section, but then it's not like he's John Mayer, so I don't need to see him.
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"Allentown" by Billy Joel

No it's not his birthday or anything; it's just that tomorrow I get to go see Billy Joel in concert at Vancouver's General Motors Place, and I'm starting to get psyched. Partly because I've never been to GM Place (hey, it's only been there 12 years), but mainly because I've always been a huge fan of Billy Joel.

A talented singer-songwriter and incisive social critic, he's also a homely guy who married a top model, which gives me yet another reason to admire him.
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Wow. Just Wow.

At the risk of driving lots of traffic to a site I find odious, I discovered this British site while commenting at Joe.My.God. and just had to share it with you.

Enter if you dare the dark heart of hatred, where no one knows the phrase "Judge not lest ye be judged" and "Love thy neighbour" just isn't gonna happen...

[S O U R C E]
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Nancy Cartwright on Australia's "Sunrise"

Birthday wishes to Nancy Cartwright - the voice of Bart Simpson, Nelson Muntz and Ralph Wiggum; watch as she cheerfully answers the same eight questions everyone asks her, only this time in Australian. Delight as the voices you've come to know and love emanate from a tiny blonde woman.

The Simpsons Movie has been announced for DVD release on December 18th, 2007*.

^{*This date is subject to change, and may not be released on this date where you are, so if it isn't don't have a cow, man!}
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Condi Admits Arar Foul-Up

US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice (shown here demonstrating how far the Bush Administration will go to protect civil liberties) has admitted that the United States government mishandled the case of Canadian Maher Arar.

For those not familiar with the case, Arar was detained by US officials on September 26th, 2002, and interrogated about his alleged links to al-Qaeda while in transit through New York's JFK airport when returning home to Montreal from a family vacation in Tunisia. While in US custody he was repeatedly refused access to counsel; he was also refused his right to choose his country of removal, as guaranteed to him under international law. Twelve days later, on October 7th, he was chained, shackled and flown to Syria, where he was held in a tiny "grave-like" cell for ten months and ten days and tortured into making a false confession before he was finally moved to a better cell in a different prison before finally being returned to Canada.

Both the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the FBI knew he was not a terrorist, yet sent him to Syria knowing he would be tortured, possibly hoping he would be killed. Though he has been cleared of all charges by the governments of Canada and Syria, this is the first indication from the US government that their handling of him was a mistake.

All I can think is, the Republicans must be getting desperate to win the next election; unsure how to beat a Clinton-Obama ticket, it looks like their new-and-improved "Kinder, Gentler" pet Condi could kill two tokens with one stone.

[S O U R C E]
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Feeling Like Death: A Case of Serendipity

Warning to Mr. Gagne:
This Post Contains Grossness.
Do Not Read Further.
You Have Been Warned.

Well, I don't know what I did, but today I feel like death. I'd say I was sick as a dog, except that I've never seen a dog as sick as me. Most dogs, when they're sick, mope around a bit, barf a couple of times, and soon they're right back at it humping things, wagging their tails, and generally being adorable.

Well, I don't need to barf, even though the stomach ailment I've come to call Bloatbelly is at it again, and I am keenly watching the toilet bowl for traces of blood, internal organs, or alien fetus - anything that might explain how I could feel like crap when I clearly have none left.

Normally I wouldn't be so blunt, except that I know no one is reading but Mr. Gagne. My regular readership has dwindled from a staggering all-time high of four to just one, which is the only other thing bothering me at the moment. Plagued as I am with self-doubt, I've put all my eggs in one basket self-esteem-wise and again come up empty. I might as well go back to Internet dating and operating the name-calling booth at the local bear bar.

Still, I persist... Why? Why not?

Even though I have next to no readers, I realize that my subject matter is pretty wide-ranging. I do occasionally still get strangers wandering in and reading a page or two, amounting to a few minutes each. I enjoy playing Social Studies by tracking their stats and seeing which posts get the most hits and planning future posts from that. I even enjoyed that time last week when for four days my blog had been flagged as inappropriate (likely due to the presence of a post about Kristen Bjorn, the gay porn king).

I look at it the way those World of Warcraft addicts must view their pastime - as a kind of vast video game. This is World of Blogcraft. I'm always checking out other blogs for ideas, and blogs about blogging for new ways to entice readers, breaking whatever rules I can (like writing posts about blogging, for instance), and otherwise enjoying the therapeutic benefits of confessing my innermost thoughts to the entire world, or at least those four or five a day who might stumble across what I'm doing.

How appropriate, also, that on the day I feel most like Death there are not one, not two, but seven notable historical deaths to choose from to report today, ranging from a Queen consort of England to an American gangster, a World War II traitor to a famed astronomer, a suave leading man and two civil rights pioneers. Among the birthdays there are an actor, a fashion designer, and a famed G-man.

All in all, just another day as usual here at the Pop Culture Institute.
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One Wonders: Dumbledore's Unrequited Love

Last Friday evening - October 19th - while appearing at Carnegie Hall, J. K. Rowling, the super-wealthy authoress of the Harry Potter series, revealed to audience members that Albus Dumbledore, the beloved headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was, in fact, gay. Fans also learned that he had had an unrequited love for one of the series' bad guys, Gellert Grindelwald, which was, in Rowling's words "his great tragedy."

While right-wing Christians are flipping out about the likelihood of literature transforming kids not only into witches, but gay witches - if only it were that easy - and certain gay rights activists are criticizing Rowling for not outing Dumbledore sooner, I would like to ask a different question:

As the Potter story has unfolded, we have seen Albus Dumbledore unfold from a kindly figure of authority to a person of truly saintly stature. Was it his unrequited love, or more specifically, recovery from that experience which led him to develop such strong, almost unassailable character?

Like most of us, I have experienced the torture of unrequited love. I met my first love when I was 9 and he was 10; I came out to him at 16 and he didn't return the favor. Instead, he remained in the closet until well into his 20s.

I chart my own journey of self-actualization to that one lightning bolt moment when I realized that much of my character developed in reaction to this all-consuming love for someone who didn't love me back. At the moment I started loving myself all the old pain went away. After all, if I loved myself, how could I resent the forces that shaped me?

I'm still far from being a saint, but I do love myself at last. I also realize how much more I could have accomplished in my first 30 years if I had loved myself all along.

Anyone else had any experiences parallel or contrary?

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RIP Joey Bishop

We all knew it would happen one day; that day is here...

The final member of the Rat Pack is gone to that great Nightclub in the Sky, where the drinks aren't watered, the broads are all game, and every night is opening night.

Joey Bishop wasn't the best-known member of the Rat Pack, especially not these days - Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis Jr. all beat him out on that account - but he was at least tied with Peter Lawford for the least known, and where Lawford was just an actor, Bishop was an all-around entertainer. He also gave Regis Philbin his big break, just FYI.

Joey Bishop died at his home in Newport Beach, California; he was 89.

[S O U R C E]
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