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Brokeback vs. Milk

Mark and I saw Milk while we were in Pittsburgh. It was quite an amazing movie–one of the best I’ve seen recently. Its timing was impeccable for those of us who are sort of rediscovering our “inner activist”.

Due to its current level of (well-deserved) hype, it also begs comparison to the other “gay” movie I wrote about a few years ago. A lot of people missed the point of that earlier rant and assumed that I was declining to see Brokeback because of a bias against “gay-themed” movies. That is, of course, not the case. I didn’t see it because the plot and setting didn’t appeal to me. Frankly, any movie about cowboys in the Wyoming wilderness, no matter who or what they’re fucking, seems like pure torture to me; the “gay” angle is not nearly enough to make up for the “people I don’t care about in a setting that bores me to tears” angle. If it had been a movie about two urban planners who found love on a subway platform in the Bronx or at a diner in Pittsburgh, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Hence my point. I don’t see movies because they’re about homosexuals. I see movies that are well-made and are about people and things that interest me, and if there happen to be sods involved, so much the better. Milk was one of those movies; it told a compelling story that was of interest to me on many levels, and it did so very well. It even got me all choked up on a few occasions.

Maybe Brokeback did the same for you. If so, that’s great. But there should be no expectation that it would necessarily do the same for me just because I’m a homo as well. It’s an assumption that I’ve always found a little insulting. I’ve had numerous acquaintances and even family members over the years who, upon seeing me, always start going on (usually within about forty-five seconds) about whatever this week’s hot new “gay culture” phenomenon is. It’s as if they assume that’s all we could possibly have in common or want to talk about, when in fact we don’t really have it in common, and I don’t really want to talk about it–and I may not even know anything about it to begin with.

I realize there’s a sort of shorthand or oversimplification that lots of people (myself included) use to try to start conversations with people they don’t really know or understand very well. But this was something that even a close friend of mine years ago used to do on a regular basis. He knew full well that I was not a big fan of dance clubs or dance music, but was always asking me if I’d heard this inane song or been to that annoying club because it was “so gay” or whatever. Ditto for movies; he never saw or discussed a movie that lacked some sort of “gay subtext” and his eyes glazed over when I discussed movies that did lack this “crucial” element. It annoyed me because it suggested that he viewed me as some kind of one-dimensional being who would naturally be excited about any piece of pop culture, no matter how lame, as long as it were sufficiently “gay”. Maybe that’s why we’re not friends anymore. It’s sort of the corollary to my old axiom: just as a sexual orientation is a poor substitute for an actual personality, a shared sexual orientation does not in and of itself constitute any sort of relationship.

Anyway, the dead horse I’m trying to beat here (since 1996 or so) is that homosexuality is often an interesting theme, but if it’s the only theme of a movie (or song or website or whatever) that I can identify with, I’m probably not going to be very interested. That’s not to say that a movie must be compelling to me in order to be good, just that it must be compelling to me in order to make me want to see it. Milk was about politics, history, urban culture, and many of my other interests in addition to its primary focus, and it’s the mix of all these themes that pulled me in.

Happy Anniversary to Me

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This is where I wish myself a happy thirteenth anniversary and commemorate the fact that Planet SOMA, the predecessor to this site, made its debut on 13 January 1996. Thanks especially to the three or four of you have been around pretty much since the beginning.

Hmmm. The thirteenth anniversary of a site that made its debut on the thirteenth. If I were a superstitious sort, that would be very troubling.

Warm

It’s nice having heat again.

And a big “fuck you” to the guy I called first, who came on Friday, said he had to go back to his shop for some information, and then more or less never called me back, leaving me with no heat for four days. Yesterday, after one last effort to get him to pull his head out of his ass, I gave up and called someone else. I’m just waiting to see if the first guy has the audacity to call back now (or to send me a bill for his “house call”). Guess the economy’s in pretty good shape if he can afford to piss off potential long term clients that way.

The sad thing is that I’m largely starting to expect “no discernible customer service at all” as the default in most situations.

Good Riddance

Way back in 1982, I bought my first VCR at Circuit City. It was a Sanyo Beta format machine, and it was my high school graduation present from my parents. That might have been the only Circuit City shopping experience I was ever relatively satisfied with.

Circuit City has for years topped my list of worst chain retailers in the US, beating out both Rite-Aid and Albertsons. How they managed to stave off liquidation as long as they did is a mystery to me. Circuit City did everything wrong. The sales staff were like vultures (until you needed them), their selection was poor, and even if you could find a product you wanted, the floor model would invariably be the only one in the entire store, and this didn’t just apply to items that were on sale.

Then, a few years ago, they made no secret of the fact that they were firing their highest paid and most knowledgeable workers, none of whom were earning many gold stars to begin with. That was pretty much the last straw. It seemed every time I walked out of a Circuit City, I was pissed off. I soon stopped walking in to begin with. I don’t even look at their flyers in the Sunday paper anymore; in fact, tossing them aside became something of an amusing little ritual for me.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had this reaction. Economic implications and sympathy for the workers who will lose their jobs aside, Circuit City’s meltdown couldn’t happen to a more deserving company.

Is This Really Necessary?

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Driving down I-40 between Winston-Salem and Kernersville today, I saw this electronic message warning me about potential inauguration traffic next Tuesday.

On I-95.

In Virginia.

Three hundred miles away.

These signs were repeated all the way to Durham, at least. This is sort of like driving on the 101 in San Francisco and being warned repeatedly about a  potential upcoming traffic jam on Highway 99 in Bakersfield.

The Heat Saga Continues

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It was a frosty 48 degrees in the living room this morning, after Herb’s temporary boiler fix broke in the middle of the night (when it was somewhere in the mid-teens). He’s back now, having finally acquired the necessary replacement part, so I’m hoping I’ll stop being cold soon.

Yes, the heating repairman and I are on a first-name basis now. Remember that, guys: the secret to establishing a succesful relationship is calling back after the first encounter.

My Kind of Preservation

This atricle about the fragility of electronic and technology-dependent information is a couple of years old, but it’s a good overview of one of my primary areas of interest within my new field. It’s actually a big topic among librarians and archivists, but I don’t think it can be emphasized too much.

Obviously, the big stuff is going to be preserved. Things like the video of the first moonwalk or of the World Trade Center bombing are in no real danger. Original masters of Disney movies will continue to be lovingly stored on their little satin pillows under perfect archival conditions for the foreseeable future. But an amazing volume of less visible material (like the census data mentioned in the link, or the first generation of websites, for example) is at considerable risk. This is the kind of stuff I’m interested in, things like snapshots of the web at a given point in time, or recordings of full days (or even just hours) of commercial broadcasting, with commercials and voiceovers included. As usual, my excitement is over that ephemeral, everyday kind of material, which is also why I’m so obsessed with the history of supermarkets and other commercial/retail architecture.

I’ll spare you the details of my home media preservation projects other than to say that backing up everything I have on magnetic media (e.g. cassette tapes) is priority number one. It’s kind of sad, though, that the very technology that made it possible for my generation to preseve so much information also makes all that extra information so much more unstable.

Mmmm. Doughnuts.

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As I’ve said before, it seems most of Krispy Kreme’s problems started when their shops stopped looking like this.

This one, for reference, is in Spartanburg SC. It actually isn’t open anymore, but they keep it in pristine condition right across the street from its replacement, with counter, stools, original signage, and all. I’m not 100% sure why; it’s almost museum-like, similar to the McDonald’s in Des Plaines. But a Kripsy Kreme museum would presumaby be in Winston-Salem, not Spartanburg.