...proposing the strict enforcement of Chekhov's Law.

Please read the next section in its entirety.

Warning: This post contains spoilers for Transformers, Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen, WALL-E, Citizen Kane, Lord of the Flies, and possibly Misery. If you don't want these spoilt, ready only the next sentence and then go to another article. Bruce Willis is dead in The Sixth Sense, but I don't consider this a spoiler because if you don't even have to watch carefully to notice he got killed in the first scene by someone from New Kids on the Block.

So, I don't want to join the dogpile on Transformers 2: The Revenge of the Fallen (or "Who gives a damn about the profits of Tesco?") but (1) it's so much fun and (2) everyone is missing the BIG reason why the movie is so horrible.

First of all, some other reasons people have been using to measure the horribleness of it all, and why I don't consider these:

1. The twin characters. Sure they're played for buffoons, but they are no worse than average character in a Wayans Brothers movie, or even a Larry the Cable Guy monologue.
2. It's big and loud. Yes, yes it is. Annoyingly so. Then again, it is a borderline kids movie about robots that destroy the pyramids.
3. It's Fascist. Yup. No argument here. But I can ignore this because there was a preview for GI Joe before it, so I was already in my angry place about that.
4. It's visually jumbled. It just tosses things left right and center, shots are either so quick and frantic that you have no idea what's going on, or shot in slow motion and so obvious as to where they are going to end that it's not suspenseful, it's just annoying. see Bay, Micheal.

But there is something else in the movie that makes no sense, and it was present in the first one also.

There is a law of drama/writing that is often attributed to Chekhov (and if I have to explain who that is, here's a handy link to explain it all) that often reads as the following

If you have a gun that goes off in the third act, it must be seen in the first act. If a gun is seen in the first act, it must be fired in the third act.

Essentially it's foreshadowing, but also it's saying that when you tell a story you have a covenant with your audience that exists even if they don't realize that you're making it. Sometimes it can be a little heavy handed ("My hot boyfriend drinks a lot of red stuff and can't go out in the sun.") but sometimes they are wonderfully done. WALL-E has a great example where on Earth our little metal hero plays with the propellant feature of a fire extinguisher. He then does the same later in space to get away from an exploding space capsule.

It can also be very subtle: In Citizen Kane you can actually see the letters "sebu" on the sled that a young Charles Foster Kane hits Walter Parks Thatcher with, and later when he meets Susan Alexander he says he's on his way to a warehouse. The connection between the two incidents and his choice of a last word is revealed in the final scene.

So...what does this have to with Transformers and Transformers 2: Revenge of the Franchise?

In the first movie, we are given a painfully slow explanation of how Optimus Prime plans to sacrifice himself by asking Sam "I can't drive coz of DUI" Witnicky to put the All Spark (s must burn out) in his chest cavity because that will cause some sort of explosion that will destroy them both, but protect humans who can teach them to love or something like that, I was looking at my watch at the time. Fine...I get it. So the robots fight. And then when all looks lost, Optimus Prime tells him to put it in put the All Spark in Megatron's chest. And so..

Wait wait wait...put it in Megatron's chest. But...but...they kept telling us that it was going to be Optimus Prime, not just anyone, that there was something special about Prime that made this happen. In my mind I went all Annie Wilkes "HE DIDN'T GET OUT OF THE COCK-A-DOODIE CAR! ".

Okay, I know I take my movies quite seriously, and it was a fun ride with 'splosions and kabloyees. There's a time for art and a time for joy. So when Transformers 2: Revenge of the Nerds Revenge came out, and my wife wanted to see it I figured there are worst ways to spend a day.

There aren't many. And again, what bothered me the most was the way it just ignored the rules of story telling.

In this one, there is a final battle between Optimus Prime and The Fallen, and only a prime can beat The Fallen (for reasons that are never explained other than "Coz!"). So the whole time I'm thinking "How will they get out of this one so that the little remote-controlled-leg-humping robot can win the battle? Because otherwise? He outlived is purpose an hour ago." No! Instead they bring back Jetscream, who sacrifices himself so that his mechanical strength and body can go onto Prime and enhance his abilities and give him the upper hand.

And again: Where did THAT come from? You're telling me that we got ten minutes of Sam's mother running around the campus high on pot brownies but they couldn't have tossed in a line like "Many of us died fighting The Fallen, but those that remained sacrificed themselves and gave up their energy so that the Primes could finish him off."? This would also close the loop and give Jetsteam some relate-able reasons for changing sides from the Decepticons. They say the Primes sacrificed themselves to imprison an artifact (and don't get me started on the bait and switch with the Matrix of Leadership) but they could have added a little background to let you play along at home about how the battle might play out. This ranks right up there with the end of The Lord of the Flies where the adults just show up and everything goes back to normal. (brilliantly lampooned on The Simpson: "And then they were saved by, I dunno, Moe".)

So, while everyone is (in my opinion) rightfully picking on Transformers 2: Will Kids in the Future Even Know That GM was a Real Company for perceived messages, the real reason to pick on it is a simple one: it has no respect for the story it is trying to tell.

For the record: The Island? Underrated. Very very underrated.

... writing his HIStory from a different persepctive.

"It's not that I don't like what I have," I said to my mom on the way to piano practice, "it's just that I'd like something more real." I would have been about, I dunno, 9 or 10 at the time and was bemoaning the fact that I didn't have any REAL albums, just compilations and Mini Pops types. Yes, even then my aversion to "playlists" started. "I mean, I don't know, I just think it's time to move up, like to something like Thriller."

I had my typical painful piano lesson as Miss Wright's (I never could really enjoy the piano as much as I wanted to. I guess that made me a, what do you call it, "kid") and when mom's car pulled up on the road I ran up the little hill her driveway was on and jumped in the car. Mom had a bunch of bags from the Minto Steadman's and said "Look in this one". And there it was, the cassette of Thriller. I was excited and anxious all at one. It was my first REAL album, my first piece of "adult" music. I was also scared to death. I was scared that the album wasn't going to live up to my expectations. And it's a problem I've had all my life. I must have stared at my first copy of Dark Side of the Moon for hours before I dared to put it on, worried that the experience inside the sleeve was never going to compare to the experience outside of it.

Okay, so I put on Thriller. I liked it. How couldn't you at that time? The music was everywhere, and it was catchy. It had dance music ("Wanna be starting something", "Thriller"), classic pop songs ("The Girl is Mine"), rock ("Beat It") and new and urban stuff you just didn't hear in central New Brunswick ("Billy Jean", "Human Nature", the latter being a song that haunted me for many years.) Since I liked it, I started getting braver with albums. Today I'd laugh at most of them (Really, Sports?), but it was my first experience with Thriller that introduced me to Michael Jackson.

I had heard him years before. My brother had what could be considered, I would only recognize....too late for lack of a better cliche, eclectic tastes in music. Sure there was AC/DC and some other heavy metal albums whose covers I was actually scared to look at, but he also had a bunch of K-Tel compilations. He probably also had a copy of Off The Wall, and I loved listening to "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough." I couldn't then, and still can't, understand a word in the song. I used to lie on his bed and ask him to tell me when it was going to come around again on the 8-Track because I loved to sit there and make up my own stories about what he was saying in the song and the little party sound effects in the bridge. I used to call "Don't Get off, at the Bus Stop", and when I hear that song I still image those are the words.

I want to break here. I know I'm not often serious here, but I am about this: I don't ever want to know the words. I don't want people to post them, or send me to a link. I've been on the Internet since 1992, I've looked up things about the Amish, Scientology, planets in Star Wars, trivia about commericals, how stars are formed, how magic tricks are done, why bumblebees fly. I've never looked up the lyrics to "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough." It's very very VERY important to me that they always stay the same...that they always exist in my brother's room, his models on the wall, me being scared of the big books he'd bring back from school, the weird little strobe light thing he had hooked up to his stereo... I NEED that memory more than anyone will ever know.

Just gimme a minute.

Okay.

I didn't plan for this, so I'm going to stop now.

I had more I was going to write, but I'm not going to. I had all these points about how as I got older I never liked Jackson's music, that his peak was so high that no matter what he did it was going to be circling the drain. About how the tragedy was that he never got to be an adult, his mind was sick and so he never learnt that there were consequences and optics to his actions, and that a grown up was going to clean things up. I had planned to write all of that.

But I can't.

I can't because just thinking of that one song, and where it's tied into my life, and how in a weird way everything about that moment above is the fulcrum around which my life has pivoted. Not to be all inside jokey, but those who know me have a pretty good idea why a moment like that would really imprint itself on my mind, and how it would tie in to a lot of other things that I still feel and still cannot understand even today.

Maybe that's the best way to remember Jackson, and any other artist: how much they penetrated their own time, how much what they did became the fabric of the experiences we wear today.

My mom gave me the most popular album of all time after a miserable piano lesson, and today I'm lost without my iPod.

She gave me the an album by the most popular artist of two decades who I used to listen to with my brother. And I've lost my brother.

I got nothin else to say. Goodnight.

...wondering what's so funny about empathy

In Bob Roberts, there's a scene where the titular character and his security/campaign team are leaving a particularly heated rally/concert. When they get back to his tour bus they find in the back a woman who had been stalking him the entire campaign. She's taken a large poster of him and cut a hole and put her head in it. While he's yelling at his team to get her off the bus she's saying "He's looking at me," partially delusional and partly in awe.

This is Toronto.

(Sidebar: That's something like four posts in a row where I've started with a reference to a show or movie. I really should stretch a little, but like the Queen said to the playwright in the pickle factory, "Write what you know!" )

I've lived in Bippity Town, or the GBTA, for close to 15 years now, and it has never ceased to amaze it with its capacity to take any problem and make it 100 times worse, and then kick and scream about it until it's someone else's problem. They're the woman on the bus in Bob Roberts; partly delusional, partly embarrassed, but all the time saying "They're looking at me!" (They, in this case, is the world.)

Right now there is a public sector strike in Bippity Town. There are many services in the city that are shuttered because of the strike, but the one getting the most attention is garbage collection (Full disclosure: In Etobicoke we will continue to have our garbage collected due to a contract which I believe existed prior to amalgamation).

"City under siege," people are crying. Some are already throwing garbage out into the street. People have been publishing the address of the head of the union and telling people to dump their garbage on his lawn (It didn't work for Johnny Fever...). Basically everyone is starting to act like they must prepare their bodies for the Thunderdome, and that this is the new law.

Do you know how long the strike has been going on? Guess.

One day.

ONE.

DAY.

One day has people worked into a pique, clutching their handkerchiefs and worried that the next boat from the Indies will bring the plague. One day and evidently the people of Bippity Town have generated so much waste that, like Springfield, we're going to have to pick it up and move it 5 miles down the road. One. Freakin. Day.

In the middle of this here are some thoughts:

• Posting someone's address, regardless of how you feel about him? NOT. COOL. Funny how people got all angry about Seimens and Nokia possibly sharing information about Iranian protesters cell phones, but because your coffee grounds are still in the house your action is justified. NEVER. COOL. If you agree with nothing else I write, please agree with that because if you don't I openly question your commitment to Sparkle Motion. And humanity. Mostly Sparkle Motion.
  
• People are posting pictures of garbage cans downtown that have been sealed up to prevent unauthorized dumping, because they're not going to be cleaned anyway. These cans have signs on them that say "Do not litter". So of course people are yelling "FAIL!" If you, in the run of a day downtown, generate so much litter that you can't put it in a little ziplock bag and then ditch it when you get home then maybe there are things in your life you should be looking at much more closely than a sign on a bin. Maybe now you should start carrying your own coffee mug for your precious Starbuck's or Tim Horton's. And maybe you don't really need that bag of chips if you have no place to put the wrapper. Hopefully this will make you think that bringing a cup every day for your coffee isn't such a hardship, and perhaps you don't need the chips full stop.
  
• People love to pick on unions. I'm not going to debate the merits of what the strike is over or the relative benefits of unionized labour. But I will say this: Garbage men have among the worst, if not the worst, job in the First World. Every day they're on the back of that truck, picking up other people's shit (let's call a spade a spade). They spend their life in what other people don't want. And every time they reach into a bin, they don't know what's going to come out. And what do they get for it from the people? Horns honking at them because they're blocking some over-privileged guy, making a fuss because his job where he teaches people how to say "Hello" with their power within is more important than SANI-FREAKIN'-TATION. But that's okay...he'll be good to his secretary on Professional Assistant's Day, coz he "gets" the little people.
  
• Agreed: The inconvenience of having to take your trash to a processing station is pretty big, especially if you don't have a car, or your job will keep you from the hours. Mind you, I grew up in a part of the world where it was a 30 minute round trip to get a loaf of bread, let alone get rid of garbage, so what do I know? But you know what? Strikes are SUPPOSED to be inconvenient. You're SUPPOSED to realize how vital a service is so that you don't take it for granted. Does it work that way? Sadly no. But suck it up Sunshine, they're doing a job you think you're too good for. (Funny how people say "Fire them all, others will take the job", but never say "Fire them all, I'll do it! And for less! And with a smile on my face.")

Am I going over the top? You betcha.

But that's how people roll in Bippity Town. It was the same during:

• The blackout, where people were wailing and screaming and banging on buses because the subway was out and they were going to be late for work. (Were you in the shit? Yeah I was in the shit.)
  
• The transit strike, when people wondered about how the economy of the country was going to fare because the buses weren't running for a day.
  
• SARS, when people were running around in masks and people were being told not to cough in public even though the cough part of SARS onset at the end.
• September 11, when people randomly decided that 5 planes were headed to Toronto and so they had to clear out the downtown core. (Seriously. I worked in the tallest building in Canada at the time and everyone KNEW that was happening.)
  
• They Year of the Gun, when a statistical blip in gun violence caused people to think that we were living in a borderline Escape from New York era.
• When the Tamils occupied the Gardiner, leading people to imagine that the whole city was being held to ransom.

...and so on...

I often wonder what would happen if something actually happened to Bippity Town. For example, imagine that people were clogging the streets after a disputed election, marching to make sure that their voices were heard and were getting beaten and shot for a privilege that some people consider a basic human right. I'm going to go out on a limb, but I'm sure most people in Bippity Town would complain that since the protesters moved in, parking has been a nightmare. And then there would be more riots. Between citizens. Looking for a place to park.

As I've said before: I have faith in the city of Toronto. I have little faith in the people of Toronto.

Look, you might agree or disagree with the union, or the Tamils, or the health services. And I'm not saying your complaints are invalid. But panicking and demonizing anyone at the mere suggestion of something upsetting the normal course of your day is exactly the wrong thing to do. It's about understanding, about finding out WHY something is happening. Maybe you'll come to same conclusion, but you'll have a better understanding of where everything is coming from, maybe even develop a little empathy.

I know I'm not changing any minds here. If it's easier for you to just say "them" and "they" and tar an entire strata of society with the same brush, go for it. But the people causing that "inconvenience" to you are trying to live their life also, trying to get their stuff done, and trying to look after their family and do their job. You can say they're lazy, you can say they don't care...but damnit...THEY'RE YOU.

People changed their location to "Tehran" in twitter to try to provide cover for the protesters dying to have their voices heard in Iran, but you post a private citizen's address because you have no place to put your ciggy-butts?

But that's okay...they're looking at you...they're looking at you...

... celebrating the release of these cellular telephone things

Yeah, it's cheesy, but let's get on this iPhone 3G S bandwagon today.

... love riding his bicycle, loves riding his bike.

When I was a lad, about once a year in the Spring we as students at Holy Rosary Elementary School and Minto Elementary and Junior High School were led down to the media room (an empty room with plastic chairs and a movie projector) to watch a film on bike safety. It was pretty much the same every year. It talked about how we should bike carefully, know our hand signals, not drive on sidewalks, all that fun stuff. The message boiled down to "even though you're a bike, you're a vehicle on the road. Share the road and obey all the rules".

Now I'm so much older and living in the big city, Bippity Town to be exact. The bike is no longer a small measure of freedom but in some cases a vital necessity as a replacement for the car. The rules have changed a little also: wear a helmet, for example. Generally the rules are the same now as they were then: you share the road and are a vehicle, and thus you obey those rules.

Sooooooo...So let's say I'm walking down the sidewalk to the subway station (Islington Station...RESPECT!) and some dude comes by me on the sidewalk on his Schwinn, nearly knocking me into the bus shelter. If I were to put my arm out and stiff arm him (not that that I'd do that....think it yes, but do it, no) I'D be the one in trouble, not the guy on the bike driving on the sidewalk, where he is not supposed to be.

Now, The Greatest Pastry Cook in Toronto is driving home from work, and she comes to an intersection. She's slowing down and there's a bike next to the curb. At that time the rider remembers that he has to be in the lane to turn left, so he cuts in front of her. She has time to hit her breaks and avoid a mess, luckily. But if she were to plow into him, there would be stories about how drivers hate bicyclists.

I'm not saying that drivers are blameless in this respect, but cyclists are not innocent either. There have been campaigns about making sure that drivers are aware that they share the road with cyclists and this is, as Prince would say, crucial. Cyclists have a smaller profile and less between their bones and the pavement than the average driver does. However, I have not seen a comparable campaign for cyclists. In fact, if you call a cyclist out on this ("Hey, don't zip between cars like that!") you tend to get the barest of replies from them ("Be fruitful and multiply!").

I often wonder if they saw the same films when they were kids as I did. I know I have a better than average memory (quick, name some songs and I can rattle of their chart positions) but a lot of these rules were common sense.

So what can we do about this?

1. Campaign bicyclists to be more careful. In the same way that there are PSAs and billboards telling drivers to be on the look out for bicyclists, there should be a similar campaign for cyclists reminding them that they are part of the road also and are subject to the same rules, and that those rules are going to be enforced.
   
2. Create insurance for bicyclists. What? Well, see, if you need to be insured to ride your bicycle, chances are you're going to be more careful about what you do on it. It's also going to provide some protection cyclists who are legitimately injured by driver's negligence. It's a long shot, but I'm trying to avoid point 3.
3. License cyclists. If I want to drive a car, I have to sit a test, possibly go to driving school, practice driving with another licensed driver, do a practical exam, and then accumulate hours to be able to "level up" to driving on a highway and after dark when the zombies come. If I want to ride a bike on the same streets I need the following: (1) two feet (2) a heartbeat. I don't like the idea of licenses because we should be doing everything we can to move people away from cars and onto bicycles and this would be another impediment. As it stands right now anyone regardless of mental acuity or awareness of the rules of the road can go right into rush hour traffic at King and Bay St. Then again, people can have kids with even less acuity and awareness, so I dunno
   

Before I start getting hate mail, I'm not anti-bike. I'm also not anti-car. I'm pro-people-having-all-their-limbs. Drivers have a lot to learn about sharing the road with cyclists. Cyclists (myself included when I take the Pimp-Mo-Bike out) have a lot to learn about being responsible on the road. Neither party is above the law, both of the land and of society.

By the way, here is the Pimp-Mo-Bike.
(Hey, they all can't be posts about Iran!)

... holding unpopular opinions

There's an episode of Seinfeld where Kramer is walking in an AIDS march. He's jazzed and excited, but he's not going to wear the red ribbon. He won't give in to the ribbon bullies, and in the end he is pummeled by said bullies for not wearing the ribbon.

In university I was the ribbon guy. I wore all the right coloured t-shirts on the right days. I had my ribbons lined up for the right weeks. I always seemed to have a safety pin on me to hold the appropriate ribbon. I knew all the slogans by heart and would toss them out as needed. I was so earnest, and displaying to the world that I was going to make some big changes around here.

That was a long time ago and I'm not being wistful, I'm being honest. A lot has changed in the world and a lot has changed in me. I don't have the energy to be as idealistic as I used to, even though I still have many of those ideals. I still believe in an essential equality between people. I've settled pretty much on the pacifistic side of the fence. I still don't fully believe in democracy (that's a long story for another time). But instead of wearing my heart on my sleeve, I try to make my actions more a reflection of what I believe.

This is hard to explain, and not something I want to write, but we're all aware of the crisis in Iran right now over the disputed election. I'm not going to go into it all here mostly because if you aren't aware, well then you're not really my target audience.

Twitter, however, has been a great hive of activity. People have been sharing stories that have leaked out about police and military actions taken against demonstrators. There have also been efforts to keep lines of communication between people in Iran and the outside world open so that the citizens can be aware that their stories are getting out. I commend these actions.

To show sympathy, people are changing their icons on twitter to green.

And that's where I lose the script.

See, this is what I hate: the medium might be the message, but the medium is not the action. You turn your icons green. Great. What does that accomplish? Well, you say it shows solidarity. Great. It's an action, however, that costs you nothing and nets even less in return. It's wearing the ribbon: it's announcing to the world that you care, but has no real follow up action. Sure it might raise awareness, and here's that conversation for you: "Why is your icon green?" "To raise awareness of the threat to democracy in Iran." "Wow! That's so cool. And how to the green icons help?" *Silence* "Do you hope to make them think that it's St Patrick's Day?"

Okay, that last point is not fair. But this does tie in to something I try to ask myself every time I start a course of action: What now? I've turned my icon green, what now? Well, realistically I should contact my elected officials in my country and ask if they are going to put pressure on international bodies and the Iranian government to open up their processes to inspection and verification. I should also make sure that they know I've learnt the lesson of the past 8 years and we don't want to go into international situations guns-a-blazin' and upset a fragile, developing condition.

This isn't just limited to twitter and Iran. I'm tired of seeing people in funny hats with "Give it back" signs at congressional hearings on executive compensation. I'm tired of globalization protests being as much street theater as agitpop. I'm tired of seeing any issue that people don't agree with being used as subtitles to the scene of Hitler in the bunker from Downfall. In short, I'm just tired tired TIRED of the theatricality of making a stand. It's great and it gets attention, and communicates so very little.

Awareness is good. Wear ribbons and change avatars and buy Livestrong bracelets. But please, back these up with actions. Don't toss a quote back with a neener neener, but make a case, an argument. If you're going to make discussion an amateur production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, then please remember the line "Don't dream it....be it!"

...had no idea who directed this video until...NOW.

I had a different song picked for Friday ROCKS, and then I remembered this song from my uni days. For a while it even used to be on my top 5 videos of all time list.

When I went to find it on the YouTubes I found out it was directed by Michel Gondry. I felt stupid first for not knowing this, and then for realizing that it's pretty obvious he directed it, even a decade later.

Enjoy "Lucas with the Lid Off" by Lucas.

... remembering Toad the Wet Sprocket, and the summer of 1994.

Since 1988 (and yes, there are reasons why I can point to that date with great confidence) my life has had a soundtrack. I fell in love with music, and I fell in love hard. And we've had great moments when we've gone running down the street laughing like madmen and daring the moon to judge us, and also times when we've sat at opposite end of the table reading competing newspapers in stony silence. But we've always been there for each other, although music has left more of a mark on me than I have on it.

Having said that, sometimes we have little flings, or play out little dares with each other, a game of chicken where no one blinks and at the end and after it all we just kind of sit there thinking "Well, that happened...."

Toad the Wet Sprocket was a middle-of-the-road pop alternative band that had a few hits in the early to mid 1990s. They never got REALLY big, but they never were REALLY small. If people remember them now, it's for the songs "All I Want" or "Good Intentions", the former of which was a painfully earnest song sounding like the meek child of REM and XTC and raised by Hootie and the Blowfish, the latter or which was more famous for being on the Friends soundtrack album.

In 1994 they released their album Dulcinea. It's named after a character in Don Quixote, so you already get a pretty good idea what you're up against before you take off the shrink wrap. They had spent the year before touring with Gin Blossoms, and so they had a little bit of that sound mixed in. It yielded a few AOR hits, but didn't really set the world on fire and can probably be found under "Misc T" at most used records store.

Unless you hung out with me in the summer of 1994.

Chances are though that you didn't hang out with me that summer, because it was quite possibly the worst summer of my life (which means I've had a pretty good life, but still...). Let me count the ways:

1. It was the summer after my academic career went pretty much in the crapper. I was burnt out, lost, and not too sure what I wanted to do, but was pretty sure that it wasn't going to involve anything more in academe.
2. My first fallback career (radio DJ) was just not going to get the support from my friends and family that I needed to make a go of it.
   
3. The job that I looked forward to all winter (my second year as staff member at Camp Wegesegum in Chipman, New Brunswick) had fallen through, so I had to find something/anything to do that summer.
4. The job I did land was pretty much as a janitor/handyman at the Minto food bank. Yes, the same place of the world famous tomato incident.
5. I had just broken up with the first girl I ever really loved. Of course in retrospect I can see that it wasn't really love, but at the time, you know, I didn't have a lot else to compare it to.

Pretty much my only hope for that summer was just to ride it out until October, at which time I was going to move back to Halifax and make a kick at the can in a whole new field, a whole new place. But if possible, it seemed that every day took me one day away from October.

In the middle of all of this I was in the record store in Fredericton and saw that Toad had released Dulcinea and I picked it up because I needed something/anything, even though I knew zero about the album.

From the moment I started listening to it, I fell in love with it. Something about the strumming at the start of "Fly from Heaven" and its slightly Paul Simon-esque cadences captured my rudderless-ness. After the first chorus a distorted guitar slashed through the melody (and over and over again on the album) and it seemed to be translating into music my impotent rage at a summer of disappointments.

And it kept going: "Woodburning" was every night I laid awake wondering what the hell I was going to do next. "Something's Always Wrong" (maybe the closest thing they had to a hit from the album, and a very underrated song in my opinion) was every discussion I had with my ghost of an ex-girlfriend when I was trying to figure out why she was so distant from me before I left. "Stupid" was all the guilt I felt about thinking that the world owed me something and that I was better than the situation I found myself in...

It went on and on. I won't list them all, but rest assured that every song meant something to me that summer. It didn't matter what the songs might have really been about, they were somehow tying into my own life.

They were all some facet of my life at that time. It was every pit of rage, depression, self-pity, and envy that I found myself in that summer. But it didn't depress me, nor was it a depressing album. At a time when I felt the most disconnected from everyone and everything it helped me feel that at least I wasn't alone. I didn't want people to tell me things were going to be better, that it was just a phase, etc etc, and at the same time I didn't want people to indulge my dark thoughts. I just wanted someone to say "I know how you feel" and then leave it at that.

To this day I still listen to Dulcinea, even when it stands out on my iPod like a sore thumb, and I'll still listen to it start to finish. I've also played out two cassette copies of it. I've never put it on a playlist or a CD or mixed tape because all the songs on it belong together. And when I listen to it I'm taken back to the summer of 1994. I still feel some of the pain that I did then, but I also see how far I've come and get a deep sense of perspective from it. It's like visiting an old friend that you haven't seen in a long time but whose life has gone nowhere: you remember the old times, but after a while you remember why you haven't seen them in so long and don't really miss that.

I also remember that I did survive that summer, and that I have some great stories from it. I also remember that after all of that I did make it back to Halifax and started my last ditch attempt at finding a career: computer programming - and today I'm a business analyst. I also remember that over time while I never forgot the girl who broke my heart I've forgotten why it hurt so bad. And I also remember how much I love "Something's Always Wrong".

Here it is now. It might not do anything for you, but it was everything to me.

... taking a cab ride, to AWESOME!

Jarvis Cocker released a new album "Further Complications" It's got a rockier, edgier sound but does not sound like an older cat trying too hard to impress the kids who like the rocks and rolls with their baggy trousers. If you say you love music and don't buy it, then the next time you dance someone WILL be watching.

Having said that, FRIDAY ROCKS is going to feature a song from his last album Jarvis. It's a good classic pop song, and a genuinely funny video. If you don't go out and but this album after hearing this, then I will openly question your commitment to Sparkle Motion.

... thinking that less is more

Quick: How many episodes of the UK version of The Office were there? Most people don't have to look: 12 plus a 2-part Christmas episode. And Extras? Same thing. Fawlty Towers? Twelve.

Now, let's look at drama: Life on Mars? Sixteen. Prime Suspect? Sixteen. Cracker? A HUGE 25, spread over many series.

How many episodes of Friends are there? Two hundred and thirty six. Seinfeld? One hundred and eighty. Northern Exposure? One hundred and ten.

Wait, why did I mention Northern Exposure? Because I've only seen about 50 of those episodes, and that's about all I need. Don't get me wrong, it was a brilliant program. It was funny, inventive, creative. And it also went on about three seasons too long.

In North America, for the most part, a network buys a series from the creator for a number of seasons, and a number of episodes per season. The show runs season after season anywhere from 25 to 32 episodes per season. That's a lot of television, no matter how you cut it.

What this means is that in a season, a show can fluctuate greatly in quality and tone. Yesterday we talked about Jericho and how the show seemed to go through a complete overhaul in tone in its first season. At the same time, Friends and Seinfeld had periods where they seemed to lose their focus, and both had what some consider to be very unsatisfactory endings (though I know I am alone when I say that I think the end of Seinfeld was pure genius). All three of these shows were victims of the North American mode of television production: Consecutive seasons and teams of writers.

In the UK (and parts of Europe) it works a little differently. The creators produce a set number of scripts for a series and sell that. They are then produced and run in a short series of anywhere from 6 to 10 episodes, consecutively (no repeats). If there is enough demand from the public, or the broadcaster wants to give it another chance, then a second series will be ordered. At that time the creator/writers produce another set number of scripts, and the series might run a year or two later, when it's ready. (My Family is a notable exception, and very controversial for that as well).

What this results in are series that have a unified tone and voice, and are given time to be properly work-shopped. Since there are only a limited number of episodes, all the stories have to be wrapped up quickly and efficiently. You'd never see "The David Brent Paper Company", for example, and Ross and Rachel, well that would have had a point like Gavin and Stacey have.

At the same time, because of the focus, shows can have whimsy and eccentricities and they won't wear out their welcome. Pushing Daises might have been lovely to look at, but spread over 25 episodes year after year it is my belief what it would eventually have exhausted its audience; The same thing happened with Northern Exposure which was just too quirky for its own good.

So, imagine this: Jericho, Pushing Daisies, Chuck et al run for only 10 episodes, week after week. They hold their slot. Then word of mouth really grows and it becomes appointment TV in the best sense: there are no place holder episodes. Then after the ten episodes there might be a year, but during that year you're going to see more focused versions of the American Life on Mars, or The Mentalist, or even The Office and not have to sit through stand alone episodes written by hired guns and not the shows creators. People are more willing to invest time and energy in something if they know they are going to get a reward (that's what worked for 24 for the first couple of seasons), and less if they feel like there is no "there" there (Heroes).

Think this is silly, and would work on the in the UK? I have one word: Lost. The show actually was lost for a while, with episodes that made little sense and were just there to fill in the numbers. Then they took some time off and set an expiration date, and limited episodes for the next few seasons. Now the show is back to where it used to be: something that fans didn't want to miss, and something that new people wanted to get interested in. The same happened with the last season of Battlestar Galactica. Sure it was a pain to wait a year between series, but at least I didn't get episodes like there were in the first two series' that did nothing to advance the plot.

Television in North America is starting to move in that direction, especially on HBO and Showtime with series like Dexter and Big Love. I think it would benefit the networks, the fans, and the creators if the broadcast wing moved in that direction also. That way there would be room for something to be "quirky" and stay that way like My Name is Earl without having to change the premise or relationships between the characters in order to "keep it fresh".

Let any series, no matter how good, last long enough and it will trend to the middle. When it trends to the middle with no focus, it can become Wings or According to Jim: able to have just enough people to survive, and since there's no real investment by the audience for every fan they lose one week they pick up another because "There's nothing else on". But, if keep it focused, iteration over iteration, the chance for it to trend away from the middle, on something hopefully resembling an upward tick, is increased.

... is saying "Bring Back Sherrif Lobo"

You know what show I loved? Sports Night. I wasn't alone. A lot of us loved it. We loved the witty banter, the sense that it was more "workplace" than "comedy".

For two years it tried very hard, and even dealt with the near death of one of its cast members, but it just didn't work out. Even a cover story in TV Guide (when it still mattered) calling Sports Night "the best show you're not watching" didn't help. It ended, its fans lamented that what they considered a smart, witty show that never caught on, wrote blog posts about it, and then moved on.

In the past few years a number of "smart, witty" shows have developed small but devoted fan bases but not caught on, and as such have been canceled. Almost every time, a "save this show" cry goes up from the fan base, and they try to pummel the offending network to get the show back on air. This goes all the way back to Star Trek which was (I think) the first show to be saved by a petition from its fans, so we're not talking about an Internet-only, twitter-based, social media phenomenon here. People have been defensive about their favourite shows for years.

One of the most recent examples was Jericho, a post-apocalyptic show starring Skeet Ulrich. It got off to a slow start, but refocused in the middle of its run and that's when its cult really developed. Low ratings, however, had set in and the show was canceled, the "last" episode being a cliffhanger.

The fan base was incensed, angry, inundated CBS with peanuts (don't ask) and email and letters. There were stories all over the Internet and mainstreak meadi about it. "Fine, fine," said the network, "Midseason, you'll get some episodes that will wrap the plotline up, and then we'll take it from there."

So Jehrico came back, and the Internet won, and it told two friends, and they told two friends....and then the ratings were about the same, CBS looked at the investment against the returns, and then cancelled it again.

So the lesson is: You can love something, really enjoy it, but it can get cancelled, and most of the time for very good reasons. Jericho in the end had creaky plots, huge plot loopholes, unsympathetic characters, and relied too much on an energy that the show could not sustain for too long.

But the lesson has not been learnt, it would seem. Just this spring there were campaigns to save Chuck, Dollhouse, Pushing Daisies, My Name is Earl, and Samantha Who? just to name a few off my head. Some have been successful, and some have not.

It appears that the actual lesson is the following: No show should be cancelled. Ever. There might be someone watching.

Look, I love some of those shows as well. I've enjoyed Earl, but I also noticed that the past two seasons have come close to "Jumping the Shark" in the very classic sense: its used to be a show about someone trying to fix his past and become a better person; now it's about someone trying to fix his past, and the wacky adventures of his friends and family who get progressively weirder with each episode. While I'd love to give it another year to see if it will pull out of its slump, the fact is that it will probably not, and I'd rather have some imperfect seasons (like Arrested Development) than have it stay on far past its prime.

"Fine then, we'll do a movie," says the fanbase (as some have said for Pushing Daisies). Great. One word: Serenity. "Oh, we'll do the movie, and we'll all go and bring in new people, and it will make so much money and that'll show them and they'll put our show back on," except that even with your Internet, word of mouth, and free publicity for "a little show that could", you STILL had a gaping hole in the ground where the bomb of a movie landed.

Face it: shows get cancelled. It's not an aversion to quality, or a hatred of intelligence, it's simple economics: for the money that it costs to buy this show, against the ratings and the advertising dollar, is this show worth it? "Sure we can make a dollar with it, but can we make a dollar and a cent with something else?" And if the answer to that is "Yes," then Pushing Daisies gets the axe after two seasons, no matter how much whimsy you stick in it, because that whimsy is just an hour of your time, but a couple of million dollars of someone's money, and there's not a lot of that to go around.

I have my Sports Night episodes on DVD, and I watch them from time to time. I have great memories of those stories and the characters and the writing. But I also see a lot of seams, a lot of really clunky moments, and a lot of things that if I watched it in a slightly different mindset would cause me to change the channel. As much as I loved it, I could tell that because of its tone and rhythms it would take a long time to get its audience.

So, did it need another season?

No. In fact, it needed LESS episodes. And I'll explain why in my next post...