Marking Time

“Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!” 

These are the first words that Taylor (Charlton Heston) speaks directly to the civilized apes in the 1968 cult classic Planet of the Apes. In fact next week, on Feb. 8th, it will be the 40th anniversary of the film’s original U.S. theatrical release. I caught it on cable this week, and was struck by how well it stands the test of time. What’s more, it didn’t depend on flashy special effects (like the 2001 remake did) to tell a great story. Here, it was all about the ideas – and considering the mess mankind was making of the world in 1968, it was right on target. 

 It was really just a B-movie, as was most science fiction up until the box-office explosion that was Star Wars in1977. But as B-movies go, POTA was one of the most thought-provoking and philosophical movies ever. It took on evolution, medical ethics, environmentalism, war… all the same issues we’re still bickering about today. It’s got plenty of action, and it’s even kinda sexy, but the social and political message was the key to it all.

 By showing apes who act like us, and who treat the humans like animals, Rod Serling and Michael Wilson’s screenplay (based on the Pierre Boulle novel) exposes the brutality, arrogance, dishonesty and foolishness behind most of what we call ”civilized” human behavior. Serling, as many of us already know, was the brilliant mind behind The Twilight Zone. He actually didn’t write many films for theatrical release, so his work on Planet of the Apes is significant. 

 Charlton Heston’s acting, of course, was over the top. But since it’s Chuck, we don’t mind. He was one of the finest over-actors of his generation, and nowhere is it more apparent than in POTA. And his chick (Nova, played by the lovely Linda Harrison) was hot enough to make any man want to crash-land his spaceship and be taken prisoner by talking apes. Meanwhile Roddy McDowall and Kim Hunter, as the only reasonable apes of the bunch, do an admirable job of looking compassionate and concerned, even from behind those stiff masks that make it impossible to smile. They’re certainly kinder and more soulful than Dick Cheney ever was.

And then there’s that ending. That grand, glorious, goofy ending… I won’t spoil it for you, though. Instead,  

Watch Heston’s famous beach scene, on YouTube.

Now say it with me, people: “Damn you! Damn you all to hell!”

10 In a desert land he found him,
       in a barren and howling waste.
       He shielded him and cared for him;
       he guarded him as the apple of his eye,

 11 like an eagle that stirs up its nest
       and hovers over its young,
       that spreads its wings to catch them
       and carries them on its pinions.  

(Deuteronomy 32: 10-11) 

I have a growing interest in the Native American (and sometimes African) concept of totemic animals. In researching the tradition for a school lesson last year, I found that the neo-pagan and New Age movements have sometimes bastardized this tradition. They do this by claiming “personal” totemic (or symbolic) animals, when the original idea was to choose an animal that represented  or “partnered with” the values of an entire clan or community.

So I’m not here to do that. Suffice it to say that, for me, I take great pleasure in both the natural and symbolic beauty of hawks, falcons and eagles. I used to say that dolphins are my favorite animal, and they’re certainly still up there in the top five, along with ducks, turtles, various apes, and raptors (the generic name given to the class of hunting birds with talons and hooked beaks).

My friend Spencer, through years of persistent and gentle nudges, has turned me into a “birder” despite all of my former stereotypical opinions that it’s a dorky hobby. Oh well, I guess I’m a dork after all. So what else is new?

I started really noticing the unique role that hawks and eagles play for me on one of the numerous canoe trips I took in my thirties to the Boundary Waters in Minnesota. It was then that I first had a chance to see some bald eagles out in the wild, and one of my canoeist friends (also a serious birder) talked about how baldies are not so much hunters as they are bullies and scavengers. When possible, they let other animals make the kill, only to swoop in and take it away. I thought about the irony of this particular bird being the United States’ national totem, and what it might imply about our own historic habits. But that’s a discussion for another day. I’m feeling generous and patriotic after Obama’s showing in South Carolina, so I’ll spare you the political diatribes for once.

What I really find myself more intrigued by is the skeletal mechanics and basic biology that makes raptors such great hunters: their speed, their ability to glide noiselessly, their incredible eyesight. It’s a wonder to see an osprey swoop down and take a fish, or a peregrine falcon glide slow, low and silent over a prairie, watching for mice. Last time we were in Wisconsin at our house, a first: a redtail hawk sat on a tree limb in our yard, overlooking the frozen lake, for a good half-hour or more. Sue and I were giddy, acting like it was Elvis himself out there in our tree.

It’s also really weird and thrilling to see how a redtail hawk will sit on a road sign or other slightly raised structure, right next to the interstate. I saw one yesterday, less than a mile from O’Hare Airport on I-294. It’s like nature, wildness, the life-and-death-ness of the hunt, all breaking into a civilized, boring urban or suburban environment and trying to reclaim what was theirs for thousands of years before we got here. Plus it always makes me think of the above biblical passage, as the unexpected glimpse of a hawk pulls me out of whatever distracted state my mind is in, reminding me that I too am being watched, maybe even carried on the wind of the Holy Spirit.

Usually I give the hawk a little salute — maybe a left-over gesture from my days as a genuflecting Roman Catholic, I don’t know. To me, a hawk is like the totemic substitute for Yahweh and His people: the hawk is the great Eye in the Sky, the powerful yet patient and controlled being at the top of the food chain.

When we feel a need to rise up, to get perspective; when we wish we could glide smoothly above or gracefully through all of life’s challenges; when we want to believe we’re being protected… we can think of the eagles and the hawks, and have hope.

News came this past weekend that Marlon Brando’s eldest son, Christian Brando, died of pneumonia at age 49. The AP story of Christian’s life reads like this guy was cursed from day one: Marlon’s 16-year custody battle with his first wife, Christian’s manslaughter conviction, his half-sister’s eventual suicide (she never got over her boyfriend being killed by her brother), a spousal abuse conviction, drug rehab stints, even a brief affair with eventual murder victim Bonnie Lee Bakley (the Robert Blake case, if her name sounds familiar). Christian Brando’s story was the stuff of so much feverish tabloid journalism that I wouldn’t be surprised to see an Enquirer story next week claiming he was abducted by aliens, or else linking him to Britney Spears. (”Let’s play Six Degrees of Dysfunction!”).

But I’ll bet most of us have forgotten Christian once had aspirations to be an actor like his multi-Oscar-winning father. Unfortunately, he seemed to inherit Marlon’s mercurial, melancholy nature without inheriting enough of Dad’s immense talent. Too bad.

Other than Kirk and Michael Douglas, there are few parent-child combinations prior to the 1980’s where the child had anything even resembling an A-list parent’s level of talent. Of course, if we wanna talk about irreplaceable B-listers who are happy to stay that way, then Chris Elliott, son of comedian Bob Elliott (of Bob & Ray fame), is the perfect poster child. But no, the Carradines, the Van Pattens, Jamie Lee Curtis, Tatum O’Neal, and Melanie Griffith do not count… not enough quality or consistency to go around in those families.

But I think that this sub-par inheritance pattern has been changing, especially since the late 1990’s. There’s now an interesting legacy system developing in Hollywood, and I think it’s picking up steam as more sons and daughters of A-List actors, writers and directors seem to be following in their parents’ footsteps than ever before. Maybe I’m deluding myself and it’s nothing new, but in my opinion it seems to be increasing in both frequency and quality of talent.

First came the Brat-Packers from my generation– kids like Keifer Sutherland and the Sheen/Estevez boys (not to mention the underrated Timothy Hutton, and Francis Coppola’s nephew Nicolas Cage). Soon afterward, there was a very capable crop of women: Gwyneth Paltrow, Angelina Jolie and –with the longest pedigree of all, but taking awhile to “grow into” her genes– Drew Barrymore. More recently we’ve had Colin Hanks (jury’s still out in the talent department… he’s so vanilla), Josh Brolin from this year’s No Country For Old Men, the emerging Eva Amurri (daughter of Susan Sarandon) and the wonderfully odd Jason Schwartzman (son of Talia Shire, and thus another Coppola nephew). Even Will Smith’s young son Jaden was terrific in last year’s The Pursuit of Happyness. Oh, and then there’s Miley Cyrus, multi-talented daughter of Billy Ray –no wait, can I take that one back?! Billy Ray’s not really an actor, he’s just an Achy-Breaky, one-hit-wonder singer who refused to go away (or as one Nashville songwriter called his type, “a cowboy hat with a nice ass” .)

But all of the above are in the acting category (and I’m sure I’ve missed some, too). What I’ve noticed that feels new since 2000, and what caused me to write this blog, is the upturn in Hollywood kids who’ve gone into writing and/or directing. The aforementioned Schwartzman co-wrote the screenplay for Wes Anderson’s Darjeeling Limited with his cousin, Carmine Coppola. Tinseltown giant Ivan (Ghostbusters) Reitman’s son Jason made a big splash this month with three major Oscar nominations for Juno, his second straight hit movie (he directed Thank You for Smoking in 2005.) Then there’s one of my personal faves, Lawrence (Big Chill) Kasdan, who has not one but two sons putting out quality work: Jake is one of the forces behind Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story and other comedies, and little bro’ Jonathan is responsible for In the Land of Women, a critically-acclaimed drama that flew under the radar last year.

Probably the biggest deal of all though, in terms of filling Daddy’s writer-director shoes, is Sophia Coppola. After starting out with a bang by directing the intense film The Virgin Suicides in 1999, she became the absolute shizzle with Lost in Translation in 2004, which made her the only American woman ever nominated for a Best Director Oscar. And by winning for Best Original Screenplay, she joined Anjelica Huston in the only two families to have won Oscars in three different generations (Grandpa Carmine won for composing the score to a Godfather film).  [The Hustons are Anjelica, John and Grandpa Walter].

Now I know some would argue, perhaps with good reason, that an Oscar nomination is not automatically indicative of an immense individual talent. Sometimes a creative artist catches lightning in a bottle for a short time, or is just right for a certain situation and then never regains that perfect opportunity. Sometimes the voting gets political or sentimental, and is not indicative of the best material in a given year. For example: that Al Pacino won an Oscar for Scent of a Woman, of all things, was a joke. He’s been better in at least a dozen other roles, but the one time he got to play a flambuoyant disabled person, the one time he actually overacted, that was the year he won?! It only showed that Oscar voters can be suckers for flash over substance, or that they sometimes award people for career contributions instead of current performances.

But I also think Oscar voters are into this whole “family affair” thing. So look for three people to have a good shot at winning in 2008 on that basis: George Clooney, who is much-loved by the Hollywood establishment, had a “tv newsman” father, and whose aunt was singer/actress Rosemary Clooney (also, his uncle was Jose Ferrer); the aforementioned Jason Reitman, for Juno; and Ruby Dee (Best Supporting nominee for American Gangster), because she’s like the matriarch of the entire African American acting community, was very involved in the civil rights movement, and is an older person who has never before been nominated. And based upon her taking home a SAG Award  last night, it seems Ms. Dee’s got a good shot. Actors only make up about 30% of Academy voters, but they’re often a very influential 30%.

Disclaimer: I’m well aware that the rationales for the above predictions are pretty lame, in that they have nothing to do with the movies themselves. But I have a five-year-old, and my wife’s no movie buff, so I haven’t seen a single one of the nominated movies or performances this year, unless you count Ratatouille. Therefore I have to speak from instinct, instead of experience (or in this case, ignorance). I’m just a student of the game, and how it’s played.

And finally, unless I miss my guess, watch out for Suri Cruise in 2018. Unless her nutjob parents and all the tabloid attention turn her into another Christian Brando.

“People need their secrets, and in the brief period that [the truth serum] Baby’s Mouth was available, dinner parties ended in gunfights, marriages foundered, and even the most saintly politicians were found occasionally to harbor uncharitable thoughts about their constituents. No society can exist without some bullshit.”     Ben Elton, from the dystopian comic novel This Other Eden (Simon & Schuster/Sphere, 1993)

Bill and Hillary strike me as good people, always have. Good people still make bad choices, though, as evidenced by Bill’s psychic battles with food, sex and other pleasures of the flesh. What people believe and what they do don’t always match up.

Furthermore, all people have free will, which is what makes their choices “good” when they manage to go in that direction. Maybe they’re thinking of other people instead of themselves, maybe they’re submitting to some rule or higher authority (whether divine or not), maybe they’re being flexible and practical and merciful and forgiving, or maybe they’re sacrificing for the “greater good”, as mentioned by publisher/activist Jim Wallis on The Daily Show last week.

Over the years, the Clintons and many other centrist Democrats (and some Republicans, too) have demonstrated that struggle to balance minority needs against what is good for the majority. When a politician looks at immigration from the perspective of the embattled American farmer, who depends on illegals to pick our fruit, he or she is engaged in that struggle. When the discussion is about small groups of people, instead of knee-jerk “issues”, then there’s a better chance that a compromise will be necessary to get something done. That’s politics, both legislative and presidential. More importantly, that’s life. We can’t all have what we want.

So for Hillary to try staking her claim as the “candidate of change”, as she’s done in some of the debates, is a mistake. She has not changed, so much as she’s matured. She’s been in the underdogs’ corner ever since she worked for the Children’s Defense Fund, probably ever since she was a young girl doing student council or Model U.N. in high school (I dunno if it existed then, but her daughter Chelsea did do Model U.N. when she was in school). But she’s not going to sell all she owns and give it away to the poor. There are limits to how low an upper-middle-class American will go.

My point is, the word “change” itself is a loaded word, almost counter-productive if used clumsily the way Clinton is using it. Because concrete change is difficult. Systems, both healthy and dysfunctional, are resistant to change — otherwise, we’d all have health care coverage by now. Plus, individual people resist change in their personal lives as often as they welcome it. And if a person or group values stability and commitment (can you say Christian Right?) moreso than change, then it becomes very easy to demonize those calling for change. (Demonization = those who would call someone who weighs new evidence and changes his/her mind a “flip-flopper”.)

Obama and Edwards are walking that fine line, playing the “agent of change” card, as much as Hillary is. It’s only natural, in a country where discontent over Bush’s politics of power have reached a screaming crescendo. But the other two leading Dems have the “outsider” advantage. They’re the rabble rousers, the shaker-uppers, whereas Hillary is somebody who has been close to the center of power for a lot longer, and yet she only managed to get a few good things done.

Why? Because change is hard… not because she’s ineffectual. President Bill is right in pointing out that the other boys, especially Obama, have not been scrutinized and evaluated for sixteen years in the way that Hillary has. Hillary is also right to point out some of the gaps in Obama’s voting record (even though her own voting, or her absences instead of abstentions, probably do not hold up to scrutiny any better than Barack’s… it’s sad how infrequently our legislators stay in Washington and actually do their jobs). But Bill is wrong in how he has tried to characterize what Obama’s positions or intentions have been. Absence of information is not the same as negative information. More importantly, lack of experience on Obama’s part is not the same as lack of wisdom or skill.

So here’s the sticky part: we don’t actually know why Obama voted “present”, or did not take sides, in the votes that Hillary is pointing to. What if he was actually further to the left than his party line, thinking he could not support such a weak bill on public transportation funding? Or what if he was looking to compromise and get something done, while a vocal group of obstructionist Democrats were too caught up in denying even six inches of ground to those “nasty Republicans”. Could a junior Democratic senator actually vote against his own party, in the interests of his hometown constituency or his own principles? I wonder… (And let’s not forget, we do elect these guys and gals to listen to and speak for us, not for their parties.)

I’m prepared to be wrong about Obama. But I refuse to believe that the kinds of changes that are needed in America can be brought about by yet another Clinton. Maybe they can’t be brought about by Obama or Edwards, either. Because if America really wanted “change” that badly, then Dennis Kucinich and Ron Paul would be running against each other this November. Or Ross Perot would have been elected in 1992 instead of Bill Clinton. 

If you live in my town

and it snows,

you’re only allowed to park

on the odd side of the street

on odd days.

But what if you’re the kind of person

for whom every day

is an odd day?

The cops gave me a ticket today.

$35 dollars. An odd number.

It’s an even day.

So now I want to get even.

I want to go to the police station

and nail 35 copies of this poem

to their front door–

add a little oddity,

a bit of my strange brand of beauty, 

to their day.

That’ll show ‘em not to mess with us oddballs.

Yeah. That’ll even up the odds.

      X    

    -   (McCain)2    =    

[ Reagan times Kennedy minus McCain squared equals Obama ]

Aw, now he’s done it… Barack Obama was caught mentioning Ronald Reagan in a speech last week. This is gonna get interesting, unless the Dems’ increased cattiness instead scares me away from paying attention at all anymore.

I hate people who rewrite history. Back when I was in high school (and politically clueless, like most American teens), America was involved in our first serious scuffle with Iran as the embassy hostages were taken. And it just so happened that this crisis went down in the midst of an economic recession (like the one we’re on the brink of now), and at a time right before a U.S. presidential election. You don’t remember? That was the election in which Ronald Reagan rode in on his lily-white horse, “saved” the hostages, and personally ushered in a “revolution” for the Republican party. At least that’s what current conservatives would have us believe.

Carter, meanwhile, got the shaft. Even though he was and is one of our better diplomats (as his Nobel Peace Prize confirms), and even though he did decisively try a rescue (that the military screwed up in its execution), Carter took the fall historically as “ineffectual” on security-related issues. Admittedly, Carter was playing catch-up on the Khomeini revolution, not to mention having to deal with the ugly political reality of supporting the deposed shah (an unjust king that the Republican president Eisenhower had re-installed in a 1953 coup, a king whom all subsequent U.S. presidents probably left alone out of mere convenience).

Time marched on, the shah got sick, the Carter campaign stumbled, Saddam Hussein’s Iraq invaded Iran (talk about ironic!), and the hostages were released within minutes of Reagan’s inauguration (he therefore got to act as if he actually had something to do with their release — though it’s actually just as possible Reagan used back channels to have the hostages held onto till after the election, to keep Carter from claiming credit).

The truth is, Saint Ronald reaped the benefits of eight years with no major, sticky international incidents to go knocking teeth out of his Teflon smile. Think about it: what was Reagan’s war? Grenada? The Soviet fiasco in Afghanistan? Falkland Islands? Quiet little “anti-communist” scuffles in Central America, where the U.S. and CIA had already been helping despots for generations? Give me a break.

Reagan’s unbelievably good luck was that Britain, Russia and other powerhouses were the ones getting in trouble during those eight years, while he could just let the free market run wild and create the image of prosperity in America. However, take a look at the record number of bank failures (sound familiar?) and his huge debt load for a more accurate appraisal of Reagan and Greenspan’s “success”.

Fast-forward to last week: Obama tried to put the motivational and leadership skills of Reagan in sharp contrast to the lack of inspiration that Nixon or Bill Clinton showed. Whether or not Obama was smart to imply that he too had Reagan’s ability to inspire people and re-direct the conduct of American politics, Obama did show me at least one thing: he knows how “down-the-middle” most of the country is when it comes to picking a president who’s going to affect our pocketbooks. Why else would he bring up Reagan in a positive light? Here’s how historian Doris Kearns Goodwin put it on Meet the Press over the weekend:

MS. GOODWIN: You know, it’s a sad point in our history when a presidential candidate cannot look back over the course of our history and show admiration for a president who did what he said. He didn’t really say that he had better ideas, he said that he had transformed the country, created a conservative movement. Now, I can understand why Edwards and Hillary take that point up, but I think what’s happening here is that Hillary has a sense of playing to the base, as Edwards was, and the base doesn’t like Ronald Reagan. They don’t like Bush. But what Obama was trying to say was, if you want a transformative presidency, if you want somebody who is going to be able, as Teddy Roosevelt was, as FDR was, as perhaps John Kennedy was, to inspire and move the country forward, you’ve got to have those skills that Ronald Reagan had. It’s an historical fact! There was nothing wrong with saying that.

Thank you to Lowell at the Raising Kaine blog for pulling out the above tidbit, as well as the one soon after, where Tom Brokaw pointed out how Hillary Clinton is also on the record as having admired Reagan’s middle-class economic balancing act and tough-on-the-Soviets stance. She just doesn’t have the guts to say so in this campaign, and risk alienating her combative, Reagan-hating elitist Democratic base (some of whom may have voted for Reagan themselves at the time, speaking of dirty little secrets).

For another opinion on how Obama is actually like Reagan (an interesting, though clearly neo-conservative, pro-Reagan opinion), see Fred Barnes, an editor at The Weekly Standard, who put out an interesting column yesterday entititled Obama Is Not Reagan.

Now twenty eight years later, the task of bringing Iran, Iraq and Afghanistan into the 21st century with any international political legitimacy is still proving very difficult. Meanwhile, Russia is turning more conservative and combative again. China’s got their hands bloody with oppression in Darfur and Burma and unjust labor practices (not to mention faulty products worldwide). And saber-rattler John McCain is loudly pandering to right wing anti-Cuban sentiment down in Florida this week (reminding us that he was aboard one of Kennedy’s “missile crisis” boats), while at the same time downplaying his realistic, somewhat pro-immigrant platform (that’s why he’s “McCain squared” in the photo construction above –somewhat duplicitous, since the traditionally isolationist Republican base wouldn’t like it if they knew what a centrist and pragmatist he actually is at heart).

Meanwhile what are the Democrats doing, as the world runs down like this? Whining about whether Reagan was the Antichrist or not, while accepting and ignoring the deep flaws of an unstable, narcissistic, debt-dependent federal economic system that his Reaganomics first put in place. (All except Edwards, whose new “war on poverty” isn’t getting much traction with the self-involved middle class, in case you haven’t noticed.) Thanks to Reagan, and his disciples the Bushes, the gap between rich and poor has continued to widen for thirty years straight. Plus we’re more isolated than ever, in a worldwide economy headed in the opposite direction – a position which threatens to drag us all down if we don’t take a more multi-national approach.

Ugh! Is it too late to get Doris Kearns Goodwin, or some other historian or economist, elected president? I’m tired of people who play upon our ignorance of our own ugly history, and the long-term results of bad policies.

[ Like this? Here's my minor update for July '08, as the Iran situation gets weirder still... ]

(The Andromeda Galaxy, or M31… The Milky Way’s nearest neighbor) 

Went with the CMLC kids on Friday to the Adler Planetarium. A stellar experience, except that we had only about two hours there, and I would think 6-8 hours is closer to what’s needed to really do the museum and theaters. Oh well, all the more reason to go back as a family sometime soon.

My son Graham came with us, which was nice. He’s been a space nut practically since he became a conscious being. We probably helped, of course, by decorating his bedroom with glow-in-the-dark stars and a poster of the Cone Nebula and a photo of the moon in close-up, and another of the Earth rising over the moon’s horizon. But he also seems naturally inclined to have the curiosity, analytical mind and tenacity to make a fine astronomer or physicist one day. He can tell you what a gibbous moon is. (In fact, I defy anyone to try keeping him from telling you.) He could name all the planets, in order, at age three. Now he’s just five, and he’s already been to the planetariums in St. Louis, Boston, and Chicago.

Here’s fun fact #1 for today, five ways to say moon in other languages:

maan (Dutch), luna (Spanish, Italian), mane (Norwegian), JIYHA (Russian/Czech), Loosin (language unknown… it’s probably phonetic version of some Asian language –anyone out there wanna help me out?!)

Speaking of foreign languages, while looking up JIYHA, I came upon the following construction. It’s one more reminder why, for me and most others, appreciating the beauty and mystery of the stars and planets is arrived at via poetic or theological means, not via the much more difficult path of theoretical physics and applied mathematics:

Not that I fear the use of scientific language, or am opposed to learning what’s hard. Just the opposite, in fact. I’m in awe, not just of the complexity of the systems themselves, but also of the great minds that can see it all clearly enough to try describing or explaining it. I know that for the right set of trained eyes and sharp mind, it is just as beautiful (and more useful… perhaps), to describe the universe with those methods as it was for Van Gogh to paint his famous Starry Night. 

Furthermore, I take it on faith that if we understood the universe fully (not that we ever could… it’s pure hubris to even put that out there as a goal), then nothing in the resulting equations would contradict the existence of God (or a robust theological system’s way of describing it all). A god who could be proven or disproven by use of any equation would be no God, as He/She/It would be in essence natural, and not supernatural (supernatural = literally “above nature”… as a creator or at least an observer, also as an agent of action and change, in my opinion). Even if you start with the so-called Big Bang and extrapolate from there, something (someone?) could still have caused the explosion, and someone could still be steering the developments that have happened since… even if He/She/They usually steers according to strict, predictable scientific rules.

Yet despite my religious stance, I’m not inclined to throw my support behind Mike Huckabee, nor anyone else who would use traditionalist social attitudes and religion to hinder the teaching and general advancement of good science. For example, the real physical evidence for biological changes in species over time –including the human species– is too great to ignore.

It’s certainly irritating that our interpretive skills are still so poor, and that people with biases (and conflicts of interest) on both sides of the evolution/Creationist/I.D. argument have muddied the water the past hundred years or more. But I’m still holding out hope that we’ll figure out as much as we need to know, so we can reconcile with our past as a species, if not completely understand it.

If you want to get some perspective on how tiny and ignorant we are in the grand scheme of things, consider this: The Milky Way is just one single galaxy among over a billion, and that’s in just the 2/3rds of the viewable universe which we’ve been able to catch a glimpse of up till now. (There’s still a third we have not touched or mapped.) And in each of those billion galaxies, there are billions of stars. And we’re not even getting into the more creative theories, like the one which says numerous other universes could possibly co-exist with our own, but with entirely alien, unknowable characteristics (each following its own rules of physics, logic and cosmology).

Confused yet? Maybe not. But if you aren’t at least astounded by the magnitude of what’s out there, and by the sheer number of possibilities, then you need to wake up that inner child of yours (or your actual child, if one is available) and give him or her a good shaking. After they’re awake, have everyone put a heavy coat on (it’s minus-3 degrees F here tonight), grab a pair of binoculars, and let that essential sense of wonder wash over you. It may even lead some genius in your own household toward wanting to explore that universe and explain it better, to the rest of us dull, earth-bound mouth-breathers.

The elegance of the universe is just too cool to be ignored.

A cute story to show how hit-and-miss ditzy my wife is when it comes to pop culture…

Allow me to set the scene:

We had a holiday party at the house a few weeks back. The traditional Hallelujah Chorus for 20 Kazoos was played (though I used a siren whistle also… whoopWhoooop WHOOOOOW). The traditional hors d’ouvres (A French word meaning “tiny foods too hard to make at home and too pricey to buy”) were well-stocked. And we eventually got around to playing Catchphrase, a word-guessing game not unlike $20,000 Pyramid (once hosted by ageless vampire Dick Clark, for those keeping score). In Catchphrase, two teams try to alternately guess as many words or phrases as they can, without being the team holding the “time bomb” buzzer when it goes off.

When Sue’s team got the name Yoda, her teammate started giving hints and descriptions, and fairly quickly Sue got the picture in her head of the famous Jim Henson-built puppet. Her visualization may have been helped by the fact that her geeky husband cut out a life-size Yoda head from the newspaper a number of years ago and pasted it to the wall above our computer, like a sensei or patron saint who speaks bad English. (”Use the F10 key, Luke. Help you it will.”)

But the pressure of the beeping game disk –plus her shouting teammates– made it impossible for her brain to recall the name of the famous Jim Henson-built green mentor/torturer. So what we heard from Sue sounded something like this:

“Oh. Ooh. Ooh. I know this one. It’s that guy. The green one, with the big ears. You know… the, the, the WISE GUY. Oh God, what - is - his - NAME?!!”

A few seconds later, when we stopped laughing, somebody else got it and we moved on to the next word. At the end of the round, though, I couldn’t resist teasing Sue:

“Honey, I must admit. I did not know that Master Yoda was actually a Mafioso as well. Wow.”

Now that I think about it, though, it’s an interesting idea: what would happen if I put Yoda’s words in Don Corleone’s mouth, like maybe in the opening scene of Godfather 1 when Brando’s petting that little kitten? Hmmm…

It may take awhile, but watch this space (and/or YouTube) for the premiere of The Yofather... or maybe The Forcefather? The Jedfather? (Or would that make folks think of Jed Clampett? –Ooh, I could put Jed’s voice in Darth Vader’s mouth, too. Yeah! The lightning bolts just keep comin’, my friends.)

Do you think National Endowment for the Humanities will give me a grant for this?

I’m a big fan of music, and of the human body – especially the more graceful ones. Therefore I’m a fan of modern interpretive dance, despite being a beer-swilling boob in my other life.

I’ve seen Hubbard Street Dance Company several times, enjoyed the growing talents of my friends’ daughters at the annual Dance Center Evanston student recital, and in various other ways come to appreciate a serious dancer’s ability to make absolute magic with just four limbs, a torso and a head. When it’s good, choreographed dance is like watching a living sculpture, with lines and angles and color and a little raised eyebrow all adding up to much more than the sum of their parts. If you’ve never gone, go see some earnest little dance compnay in your neck of the woods this year. See for yourself if you can keep from feeling lifted and electrified by their performance. I dare you.

Sometimes it’s even better when it’s captured well on film, because you have the advantage of seeing a performance from various angles, or from up close compared to sitting in the 3rd or 300th row of a theater. So I’m here today to recommend a few films, which is closer to my own area of expertise anyway. (Dance technique-wise, I wouldn’t know a pas de deux if it kicked me in the face… I just think it looks amazing onstage.)

In a May 2007 blog entitled Gotta Rant! , I complained about not being able to see enough good dancing on tv or in movies anymore (like Gene Kelly, Cyd Charisse and Donald O’Connor’s performances in Singing in the Rain… which you’d better go rent immediately if you’ve never seen it, lest you be accused of being un-American and allowing the terrorists to win).  [BTW: the above-mentioned blog praised the Wall Street Journal owners for not selling to right-wing media hack Rupert Murdoch... then a few months later they went and sold to him anyway. Why doesn't anybody LISTEN TO ME?!?! ]

Well I am happy to report there is still some hope, as I have just seen The Company, Robert Altman and Neve Campbell’s terrific 2003 film about the modern dance world.

Campbell, an accomplished Canadian dancer even before she gained fame acting on the tv show Party of Five, produced the film and is featured as part of the remarkable ensemble of the Joffrey Ballet. It was mildly controversial a number of years back when this prestigious dance company moved to Chicago from New York, but anyone familiar with the economics of not-for-profit arts organizations got it immediately. Plus, Chicago’s a great town to live in and travel from… competitive yet convenient, without being as “full of itself” as the arts scene in New York.

As a movie, The Company is very Altmanesque: not a single storyline, but more of a “slice of life” portrayal. Lots of improvisation, people talking over each other, almost a documentary feel to it even though it’s scripted. You wait for the big climax, or the other usual film conventions, and they do not come. You’re forced to reflect on the beauty or honesty of small moments, therefore, not unlike what one must do when watching a good dance piece. It’s why Altman is so unlike any other director: his conversations and silences, his motion and stillness, are like a complex dance, left open to the interpretation of the viewer. He seldom tells us what to think (which some people find frustrating in a movie… and I admit it does take getting used to).

Meanwhile, as a document of some classic, historic dance pieces, the movie is incredible. They used lots of cameras to capture actual performances by brilliant Joffrey dancers, lit and planned specifically for the film but using the choreography developed by the original choreographers (some of whom get major cameos, like other stars do in Altman movies like Nashville and The Player). They’re not brilliant as actors in other parts of the movie, but mostly I didn’t care, as Altman’s structure and editing don’t require them to create big, dramatic moments anyway. Another plus: Campbell is not really the “star” of the movie, the whole company is. Her story is only a little more important than the rest. The fact that the DVD smartly has a bonus feature which allows one to watch only the dance sequences is a clear indication that any drama in the film was meant to be secondary to the realism, and the artistry of the dancers doing what they do best.

     Now, a left turn: I’m also nuts about tap-dancing on film. From the wild acrobatics of the Nicholas Brothers in the 1930s and beyond, through Astaire and Rogers, James Cagney, the hot-Hot-HOT Rita Hayworth, and Gene Kelly, right up to Christopher Walken’s weirdly wonderful 2001 music video for hip-hop artist Fatboy Slim’s Weapon of Choice, the rhythms and inventiveness of tap are another one of the great joys of life.

The Nicholas Brothers (or at least one) also appeared in the 1989 Gregory Hines showcase Tap, which I found at the back of my video cabinet last month and watched with relish until 1am, like a kid who had just found some buried treasure. However, unlike The Company, Tap is not such a great movie. For some good Hines dancing in better movies, try The Cotton Club, or White Nights (where the bonus is we get to see Mikhail Baryshnikov work his own magic).

On the other hand, the incredibly important service that Hines and his producers did do in Tap was bring together as many of the great old American tap dancers as they could, before all the old guys started kicking the bucket instead of kicking up a storm with their feet. So for example, it was the final feature film appearance of Sammy Davis Jr., and a great thank-you to people like Sandman Sims, Jimmy Slyde, Harold Nicholas, the greats who established tap dancing as a uniquely American art form. A bonus in this film is seeing current tap standard-bearer Savion Glover, at about age ten, swaggering his way through a funny scene where he teaches a bunch of spoiled white kids a thing or two about hoofin’.

So don’t just sit there! Dance your way on over to Blockbuster or the public library, pick up some of these flicks, and add a little hop to your week.

If nothing else, it’s been very amusing to watch how gender, race, religion and the war are affecting the primaries this year. For example:

John Edwards, speaking at a black Baptist church, lined up alongside Obama when Clinton clumsily tried to bring up the civil rights movement and suggest that Lyndon Johnson had as much to do with it as Dr. King.

A selected Edwards quote: “Those who believe that real change starts with Washington politicians have been in Washington too long and are living in a fairy tale.” 

The fairy tale reference goes to Bill Clinton’s comment, about Obama getting a free ride on Iraq and other issues from the press. Speaking of which: I heard a good reminder on Stephanie Miller’s radio show yesterday that when the Iraq vote to allow force took place in 2004, Obama was working on his keynote convention address in support of Kerry/Edwards – and since Kerry was in favor of using force, the demonstrably anti-war Obama probably chose not to vote so as not to embarrass the candidate. (So now Obama, the good Democratic party soldier, gets thrown under the bus by his former president, who’s suddenly playing “tough guy” to defend his woman. Figures…)  

With the above comment, I think the slowly-sinking Edwards is subtly positioning himself to potentially have a place in the Obama administration. He’d make a pretty good Secretary of Health & Human Services, for example, if not a V.P. Let’s see how long it takes Edwards to drop out and throw support to Barack after his mediocre showing in South Carolina…

On a less amusing note, there was a big reminder yesterday that Afghanistan is not and never has been the New American Disneyland of the Middle East (”It’s a Small World, Let’s Bomb It All”… sing it with me, people!) A Taliban bombing of Kabul’s top hotel killed an American civilian along with other Westerners and Afghanis – but just as importantly, it reminds those too focused on Iraq that similar violence and a slide back into chaos has already been happening for months outside of Kabul.

So… let’s make a Bush foreign policy checklist, shall we?

  Upset balance of power in Afghanistan and make friends with duplicitous drug warlords, some of whom align themselves with second-string Taliban, all to push out the Westerners.

  Destabilize Iraq and let friends-of-friends (Sunnis aligned with Saudi Arabia) fight it out with friends-of-enemies (Shi ‘ites aligned with Iran).

 Stay out of the Israel/Palestine conflict entirely, in fact don’t even visit the region, until it’s already too late to do anything substantial about it. When nothing comes together, leave your successor to clean up the mess. (Did y’all see the cute Israeli pre-teen girl on video singing a translated version of “Over the Rainbow”? Who says $30 billion dollars can’t get you a good ticket to a show nowadays?)

   Persist in believing General Musharraf of Pakistan when he pays lip service to battling terrorism, all while he puts genuine democratic voices under house arrest, or puts them to death. With friends like this…

   Borrow money, mostly from China, to keep the American economy propped up.  Then stand idly by while China’s unregulated and deadly-for-workers industries  sell us unsafe products (including cars, starting this year)… products that managed to slip by unfunded and understaffed U.S. government agencies which Bush’s policies gutted in the first place.

That’s some list. Anything left? Oh yeah… South America, Africa, Antarctica — heck they’ve got whole continents where they still have a chance to make things worse than they already did the past seven years.

Uh-oh. I better start building my ark.