Good TV

If anyone out there is looking for some good, edgy British comedy, I highly recommend a little number called Peep Show that I just watched obsessively for about a month.

My friend Stu (illustrations to right) brought a bunch of episodes while he was visiting in September and quickly got me hooked.

In fact, I’m tempted to say that Peep Show is the best incarnation of the “odd couple” premise that I’ve ever seen. Jez is the crazy, hedonistic slacker while his roommate Mark is the play-by-the-rules, socially awkward type. It’s got solid acting, unforgettable characters, and creative scripts.

It’s also kind of technically innovative. The camera gives a first person point of view, and whenever the audience is looking from Mark or Jez’s perspective we are allowed to hear their internal monologues. (Think Mel Gibson’s “What Women Want,” only raw, funny and less anti-Semitic).

Anyway, if you want to laugh your arse off, go buy or rent as many episodes as you have time for. You Tube also has a pretty good selection if you're interested in more clips. Until then, here’s a bit from the first episode of the first season to give you a taste.

And a warning: though Peep Show is not nearly as adult as the title suggests, it can at times be somewhat crass and profane.

Enjoy.

Language Acquisition 101: Or, Becoming Germanick

So last week I completed my first wave of finals here in Germany. WTO, Venture Capital, EU Law, Comparative Intellectual Property. Check, check, check, and check.

Now, after a feverish week of studying and test-taking (4 days straight of early-morning exams), I have an entire week off. Many in the exchange group are traveling and enjoying themselves. I have decided, somewhat masochistically it turns out, to remain here in Hamburg and take intensive German classes for 4 hours a day.

The class itself is one of the more diverse collections of people you’ll find outside of a meeting of the General Assembly of the UN. In our group of 10 we have representatives from: Albania, Poland, China, Croatia, Mexico, Brazil, Britain, Kenya, and the US of A.

The people are friendly and the peer environment supportive and non-judgmental.

The teacher/student dynamic, however, is a bit different.

It’s not so much that he points out our plentiful errors, which, fair enough, is kind of what we pay him to do. No, it’s that he sees every mistake as a reason to mock us mercilessly with some sort of long stand-up routine.

Mercilessly.

To give an example of what I mean, imagine you are a non-native, limited-ability English speaker. You are trying to say that the boy “was running” around town, but you make an error and say “the boy was runny” around town.

That's mildly funny right? Sure.

Now imagine that the teacher, even though he is perfectly aware of what you mean, looks at you incredulously.

“Runny? The boy was runny?” he says, a faux-confused look on his face. “Like, he was a liquid? What, was he melting? Was he some sort of alien or mutant or something that had special powers and could turn his body into liquid?”

You quickly correct your error, but the class has begun to laugh at his outlandish examples, encouraging him.

“Was he like some sort of snail-man who oozes snail goo all over the place?” He continues, pointing at you and gathering steam and doing his best impression of what a snail-man would move and speak like. “Hey, everybody, look at me, I'm half snail, half man! Does this creature even exist? Who knows? Apparently Nick thinks he does. Nick literally thinks that there is a creature out there that is half snail, half man. Don't you Nick?"

He pauses and looks at you, as if he expects a real answer, and you nod wordlessly and hope he begins to start mocking someone else soon.

This, as far as I can tell, is his method. I have mixed feelings about it.

On the one hand, it’s cheap and mean and dehumanizing.

On the other hand though, I’m starting to think it might be kind of brilliant. It might even be the best way possible to learn a language: one humiliating mistake after another.

Take law school, for example. The only way I can ever guarantee that I will remember something from class is if I screw it up. Or I suppose if someone else screws it up. I still remember a kid in 5th grade running out of class crying because he couldn’t remember the answer to a question about the human body (answer: tibia).

And that’s the point. You know all those memories that make you catch your breath in shame or embarrassment when you think about them? These tend to be instructive memories. And there’s this place in your brain where those memories are all indelibly recorded in high-definition to be replayed for the rest of your life. I think ideally, you need to get all your language mistakes into that part of your brain to succeed.

This is the Bob Knight school of language acquisition. And though the Bob Knight philosophy never really worked for me in basketball (it caused me to freeze-up and become erratic), I’m hoping it will be more effective in this field.

So, Mr. Professor Man, I’m going to put my faith in you. I’m going to trust that you know what you’re doing and that you are, like Bob Knight, a professional. Go wild. Next time I misuse the dative, pick up a chair and throw it against the wall. Next time I misconjugate a routine verb, call me an asshole, punch me in the gut and storm out of the classroom. Seriously, do it. You’ve got my blessing. The more outlandish and memorable the better.

It’s the only way I’ll learn.

On the Birds and the Beasts

I seriously debated whether or not to post this shot. One the one hand, it seems kind of adolescent and, possibly, even a bit inappropriate for my more conservative readership (Hi Grandma!).

On the other hand. . .

I saw lions having sex at the zoo!

Spectators excitedly called to their friends, parents shielded the impressionable young eyes of their children, and cameras flashed paparazzi-style from all angles. It was incredible.

It was by far the coolest thing that I’ve ever seen at a zoo, and I’ve touched a tiger (Eric, vouch for me here).

Plus the photo turned out really, really good. Note the bite on the back (feral passion), the arched necked of the lioness (exquisite bliss), the intertwined tails (True Love). This shot has it all. Even the testicles seem to lend a certain gritty realism to the composition.

A masterpiece.

A Magical Paradise Awaits You!

In about 20 minutes I’m going to participate in a “present your school” event here at the Bucerius Law School in Germany. This gives the German students the opportunity to browse the different partner schools and see which one they would like to attend.

Sometimes coming to the Midwest from abroad is a tough sell, but being a big fan of Iowa City and a strong supporter of the Iowa College of Law, I can’t wait to make the case. Sure, you could go to NYC or San Francisco, I’ll say, but would that really be a “college town” experience? I don’t think so.

That’s going to be my angle. I figured I’d just bring my laptop, show everyone a few pictures of Iowa City, and open up a tab on some site like Wikipedia to give everyone the vital statistics of the city.

Which brings me to my point.

Has anyone ever looked at the Wikipedia entry for Iowa City? It’s hilarious.

Two of the first three categories are: “2006 Tornado” and “2008 Flood,” and the pictures at the top of this post are two of the first pictures that you encounter on scrolling down the page. If you didn’t know better, you’d think the entire town was composed exclusively of flotsam and refugee camps.

"Will we die in Iowa?" my classmates will ask, furrowing their brows with concern and confusion.

"Don't be silly," I'll say. "Tornado Season and Flood Season are usually broken up by Unbearable Winter Season, so you'll hardly even notice them."

I’m recruiting here. I can’t work with this kind of material. So, at least until someone edits the Wikipedia page (or Mother Nature stops picking on us), it looks like I’ll be sticking to shots of the ped mall and photos of tailgating.

Yes, rain or shine, we'll always have tailgating.

Go Hawks!

A Poet and Don't Even Know It

This article is awesome.

Hart Seely from Slate went through three Sarah Palin interviews, pulled a few statements verbatim from them, lumped them into stanzas and then called them poetry.

The concept seems pretty straight-forward, but the results are beautiful.

Keep in mind, this isn't just a cheap shot at Palin for not being the most informed or clear candidate. I think this same process could probably produce amazing results for any politician (or any person for that matter). But I do think that Sarah Palin has the ability to be a really prolific poet if she keeps at it.

Here is one of my favorites. Especially note the deft use of repetition in the first stanza and the intentional ambiguity of the last line.

Absolutely brilliant.

"Outside"

I am a Washington outsider.
I mean,
Look at where you are.
I'm a Washington outsider.

I do not have those allegiances
To the power brokers,
To the lobbyists.
We need someone like that.

(To C. Gibson, ABC News, Sept. 11, 2008)

Check out the article for more great hits like "On Good and Evil" and "Befoulers of the Verbiage."

Reeperbahn Festival Day 1

I remember once reading an Onion headline that went something like this:

"Entire Town Secretly in Love with Lady who Works at the Coffee Shop."

That's one of the reasons why The Asteroids Galaxy Tour was my favorite act from last night. She's going to be a star.

Enjoy!

The Presidential Debates: A Modest Proposal

Here’s a little secret:

I’ve never been a huge fan of watching the Presidential debates.

I do it, but I'm not always happy about it. I find them to be, by and large, unsatisfying. A bit like eating empty calories or staying at the bar too long.

I wasn’t always this way. When I was younger I kind of romanticized them as some super important civic duty that all intelligent adults participated in. All the adults would watch the debates, judiciously weigh the merits of the arguments, and then cast their ballots for the candidate most fit for the job.

What a bunch of mature, democratic participants they all were. I couldn’t wait.

But now that I’m all grown-up, I know (like most people) that the debates are mostly bullshit. They’re two candidates bandying about worn-down-to-the-nub talking points for a bunch of people who have already made up their minds who they’re voting for. If all goes well, the candidate you are cheering against will make some sort of horribly embarrassing linguistic misstep and the candidate that you are cheering for will make the audience laugh.

Don’t get me wrong, the debates aren’t all bad. In fact, some of the weaknesses of the whole production also produce some of its strengths.

You know how we always have a graph to see if the audience is reacting positively or negatively to a candidate? That’s great. I love that kind of stuff. We find out all sorts of sociological stuff about how an audience reacts to speeches. Or at least how they say they react. Or, at the very least, how they think the should be reacting.

We're also able, luckily, to find out all sorts of things about the candidates themselves. Like if they’re attractive or sweat a lot on stage or speak with a funny voice.

Which is fine. We’re not really there to break down a wide range of complex policy issues in a couple hours. If that's what you’re about then roll up your sleeves, go to the internet and start doing your research.

But debates aren’t for that. Debates are, for better or worse, all about rhetorical ability, eloquence, stage presence, facility with language, likeability, tone, and, most importantly, the ability to make quasi-factual policy arguments that most of us have already heard a number of times before in past presidential debates.

Let me reiterate. I’m not saying this is necessarily a bad thing. Given the relatively negligible policy differences between the Democrats, it’s for exactly some of these reasons (attractiveness, eloquence, je ne sais quoi, etc.) that I supported Barack Obama in the caucuses. Since the American people eat this stuff up, I felt like he was probably the best positioned of the lot to implement a left-of-center platform.

And, of course, the pageantry part of the race is actually quite fun to hash and re-hash. Who looked more presidential? Who seemed overly aggressive? Overly-passive? Who shouldn’t have answered question #1 so quickly but should have definitely taken a respectful little pause before launching so quickly into #2? Who got more laughs from the crowd? Who was more comfortable?

If you don’t have answers to any of these questions yet, don’t worry. You’ll have them formed for you as you watch the next two days coverage of every national news outlet in the country.

Although some of the qualities listed above may be important for evaluating such things as consensus building and diplomacy, many of them are not of critical importance for evaluating the merits of the different policy positions of a specific candidate.

So, as we arrive at the day of the first presidential debate of the year -- one that may or may not take place-- I’ve been thinking: is there a way we can evaluate all of these qualities in a more creative and viewer friendly way?

Which leads me to my idea.

If the debates really are all about things like quick-wittedness and poise (they are), why not strip the whole charade of its faux-gravitas and make it more transparent. Let’s make them debate something completely inconsequential.

Like a favorite color.

Here’s how this would work:

Jim Lehrer:

“Colors are a very important part of American History. They bring life to our films, make our surroundings more livable, and allow for ambiguity in a political environment which, as we are learning more every year, is not so black and white. Which brings me to the first question of the night. . .(dramatic pause)

Which color do you prefer: green or orange? And why?

Senator Obama, you have one minute to respond.

Obama:

Jim, first of all thank you for moderating this historic debate and thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak to the American people about the important issues that we’ll have to face in the future (audience experiences first feelings of self-importance. Audience poll approval up 2%).

Now let me begin by saying this: I understand that there are many, many supporters of orange out there in the audience tonight and also across our great country. Orange has played a vital role in how we understand ourselves. It is the sun in our sky that brings warmth to this earth, the basketball on the court where our children play, the citrus crop that grow in fields across our great nation. . . especially Florida (mild laughter).

That being said, I choose green. And no, it’s not because I want you to vote green (more mild laughter from audience). That gave us the last 8 years (wild clapping at Bush-slam, audience approval up 2%). And it’s not because, as my opponent wants you to believe, that I myself am a little green (cocksure grin, laughter). Because, as I’ve said before, I’ll have the experience debate with anyone.

It’s because green is the color of growth. Green is money. It’s using that money to build an economy that works for everyone. Green is sustainable growth and an energy policy that doesn’t rely on archaic, fossil fuel technology.

Jim: Mr. Obama, you’re time is. . .

Obama: Just a second Jim, it’s an important point I’m making here about colors. And I think it’s important for the American people too. The American people know that I respect orange and realize that orange has many contributions to make. Orange certainly gets a seat at the table, no doubt about that. But green is my choice. And I ask you this to conclude: have you ever seen any growth without a little bit of green at the root? (Audience approval up 2% for confusing, money-growth-environment tie-in on the fly).

Jim: Senator McCain, you have 30 seconds.

McCain:

Frankly Jim, I was raised thinking the most important colors in this country are red, white, and blue (pause for audience laughter, wild applause, admiration, and an 8% increase in audience poll approval). And while I appreciate the question, I’m just not willing to believe that green and orange are the only two options.

And that might not be what the people want to hear, but, I’m sorry to break it to everyone, the President of the United States isn’t always going to be able to tell the people what they want to hear (audience approval rating plunges 12%).

Jim: Mr. Obama, a 15 second rebuttal.

Obama:

I’m sorry Jim, but this is politics as usual, implying that because I didn’t mention red, white and blue that I’m somehow not as patriotic. Enough is enough. Mr. McCain’s refusal to answer the question outright I think exhibits a sheer unwillingness to face the real problems that our country is facing. We don’t always get to answer the questions we WANT to; sometimes, we have to answer the questions that we HAVE to. (Audience appreciation and corresponding 4% rise in audience approval rating, all of whom are fickle idiots).

So that’s how it would work. Pretty cool right?

And you know what’s so great about this type of format?

We'd still discover all sorts of things about the candidates’ attractiveness, poise, sense of humor, public speaking ability, and ability to form arguments. We could evaluate it all. And at least we’d be honest to ourselves about the bullshit that we’re evaluating.

Of course, variations of this format could go on ad infinitum. The next debate could be the “Would you rather debate?” (E.g. --Senator McCain, would you rather be Spiderman or Superman? And Why?)

And the one after that could be the Rorschach inkblot debate (“Right-side-up it kind of looks like Hope, but upside-down it looks more like Change”).

But I’ll let CNN work out the details.

Unless they think this whole idea is just a bunch of bullshit.

Which, of course, is exactly what it is.