(Display Name not set)March 2006 Archives

Imagine getting the family together for some nice evening TV and watching a music video showing:

• A girl pulling a string on her sweater to immediately enhance her breast size;
• A girl in a tanning booth looking gross, then begging friends for attention;
• A girl on a plastic surgery table awaiting breast augmentation;
• A girl giving a speech as the President of the United States.

Those are all part of Pink’s “Stupid Girls” video, which is not always what you'd call family fare but is nevertheless relevant and powerful. It's part of an emerging genre of music encouraging young girls—and everyone young at heart—to resist the cultural messages we may see around us and instead pursue a true sense of individual responsibility and choice. “Stupid Girls” is about the potential in teenage girls, which can be wasted when they conform blindly to what they see around them. A lyrical highlight:

What happened to the dreams of a girl president?
She’s dancing in the video next to 50 Cent

The video stretches the boundaries of PG-13, showing bolemic girls vomiting in the restroom and several other disturbing scenes, but the only thing scarier is the reality of the events in adolescent (and adult?) culture.

Also high on the charts is Natasha Bedingfield’s “Unwritten,” with words and images to “reach for the distance, so close you can almost taste it, release your innovations” because “no one else can speak the words on your lips.” The wonderfully encouraging message continues with:

Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten.

Her honest assessment that “we've been conditioned to not make mistakes” is followed by her declaration that “I can't live that way.” She then invites us to “feel the rain on your skin” because “no one else can feel it for you.” This is the kind of authenticity that is required for a lifelong spiritual journey and one that many young people seek.

And finally, Daniel Powter’s “Bad Day” offers a realistic connection for anyone who needs a dose of realism rather than a message that ignores how hard life can be and how discouraging tomorrow can seem. Consider:

Sometimes the system goes on the blink
And the whole thing turns out wrong
You might not make it back and you know
That you could be well oh that strong
And I'm not wrong.

The music video for this song offers a nice positive ending, but the lyrics are giving comfort to tens of thousands of people whose bad day is oh-s0-real and for whom the connection to Powter overcomes the age factor which music executives said would stifle his career.

The ultimate peer pressure message for all ages is “you must change your behavior and conform to societal norms to be loved and to feel important.” I don’t remember electing media executives to be our Values Directors and therefore I celebrate those artists whose music and message invites us—and our kids—to think, feel, search, and act for themselves.

ABC’s "Boston Legal" regularly raises ethical and moral questions, and this week’s topic was polygamy. Two sharp and attractive clients babysit each other’s kids and share groceries, lawn equipment... and Ray Anderson. “We’ve done nothing wrong, there is no victim here,” said Mrs. Anderson #1. “In this chaotic world we live in, where there is no stability, we have found a way to raise a family in a cooperative and loving way,” said Mrs. Anderson #2.

Denise, the Boston Legal attorney whose own escapades have included affairs with a dying man and a pretend policeman, reminds them of this current fact: “Guys, the law on polygamy has been settled for a long time.”

Mrs. Anderson #2: “So, it’s time for a change.”
Mrs. Anderson #1: “We are very commited to this.”
Mr. Anderson (with a smile): “I know I am.”

As their case moves to the witness stand, the two Mrs. Andersons explain how their mutual efforts help to raise great kids, work in successful careers, sustain a happy household, and keep “their” man happy. They win over the judge, who is obviously jealous of their peace and happiness, as well as their attorney, who argues the logic of changing polygamy laws that were written during a "different economic construct"--when women didn’t work or vote.

Denise then argues (overstates?) that with current divorce rates at 43% and with 60% of men and 40% of women having extra-marital affiars, many people are practicing sexual polygamy, just not institutionalizing it. The show’s case for a new normative behavior is countered only at its end by a rather simple-minded (and suddenly old-fashion-sounding) attorney, who makes his case not along moral lines, but economic ones, citing tax-deductions and health insurance among the problematic issues were polygamy to be legalized.

The show’s relevance may seem laughable to some, but it shouldn't be, considering the advances in the homosexual agenda, which is practiced by a much smaller percentage of people than those practicing heterosexual promiscuity. What made the Boston Legal episode powerful was the comparison: Sexual “polygamy” is practiced to some degree in our current society, though not accepted socially, legally, or institutionally, which sounds a lot like how homosexuality has been practiced over the recent decades.

Boston Legal again brought a comedic flare to a current issue, turning a farcical topic into a challenge for the spiritual person who should be sure of his or her convictions and the foundations upon which they’re based.

"The West Wing’s" great run is on its last leg, but producers are making a run to the finish, which will include special guest appearances (Jon Bon Jovi’s on next week) and cameos from the show’s former stars. I was also glad to see—at least for one final time—"West Wing" return to its roots of leveraging its political plotline to engage in the kind of moral and ethical dilemmas that should always matter for a spiritual seeker. When Ron Silver’s character Bruno (who advises Alan Alda’s Arnie Vinick in his presidential campaign against Jimmy Smits’s Matt Santos) finds Santos’s briefcase with damaging information inside, he confronts Vinick with the opportunity to take Santos down with the information inside.

“It will make you President,” he says.

Vinick’s absolute resolve to “give it back immediately” turns into “I don’t wanna know anything about it” to “let’s sleep on it” to “keep it,” as he becomes aware of the secret hidden inside. This, I believe, is the kind of moment that defines the true spirituality of any person: Can we do the right thing, even when it may keep us from achieving an ambition or living a dream? Vinick eventually chooses to give the briefcase back, but there’s still room for the secret to get out.

I’m curious to see what they do with this one, and will tune in for the kind of typically bold writing that often marks a show’s final weeks. And even if it’s lame, I’ll at least get a Bon Jovi song, some reunion cameos, and the memory of a show which often moved past politics to ask the significant questions of life.

I usually like what fellow blogger Kris Rasmussen has to say, but had to disagree with her praise of Robert Altman and pan of George Clooney when it came to Oscar speeches. She called Clooney’s “the worst, most self-aggrandizing speech of the evening” and gave props to Altman for “utter(ing) some of the most eloquent words I have ever heard spoken at the Oscars.”

Beauty’s obviously in the eye of the beholder because I scored them completely in the reverse. I thought Altman bordered on arrogance in bragging that he’d opened a show the night before in London and then shamelessly promoting his current film, which opens this summer. The fact that he wasn’t as obnoxious as usual didn’t make his speech redeeming. As for the comment about his heart surgery 10 years ago, it was touching but also a shameless announcement to potential investors that he’s present in the marketplace and desiring to make more movies.

I found Clooney’s speech among the most gentle, self-deprecating, humorous, and humble speeches in Oscar history. Absent was the controversy of Jane Fonda, sour cloud of Vanessa Redgrave, nervous pall of Sacheen Littlefeather (for Marlon Brando), or fumbled racial comments of Eddie Murphy. And there were no references to politicians or parties “red” or “blue.”

Instead, Clooney was funny (“so I’m not winning Director”), self-deprecating (twice mentioning his “Batman” turn, which almost killed the franchise), and modest (his last big win was a magazine award in ’97) while humbly praising the “stellar” performances of William Hurt, Matt Dillon, Paul Giamatti, and Jake Gyllenhaal.

Regarding his politics, he mentioned Hollywood’s efforts regarding AIDS, civil rights, and racism, which are every spiritual person’s concerns and should be apolitical in nature. “I’m proud to be a part of this Academy, this community,” he said to a rising chorus of applause, ending with a gentle smile that contributed a nice start to a night of politically charged movies. That achievement, as social and political statements go, made him a winner in my book.

As the cameras intrude further and further upon what used to be private Oscars night moments, we the audience get to witness fewer and fewer (truly) authentic moments. It’s an increasingly scripted evening, which is why some of my favorite moments of the evening were the unrehearsed ones, including:

• Hillary Swank jogging in her gown to catch Philip Seymour Hoffman for a hug and congratulations before the official line of interviews;

• George Clooney going backwards to hug fellow nominee William Hurt before going forward to the stage;

• Felicity Huffman with tears (and make-up) running at the surprise video greetings she got from "Desperate Housewives" gal pals during pre-show;

• Host Jon Stewart telling the group Three 6 Mafia, who won Best Song that “that’s how” to really accept an Oscar;

• Jennifer Garner's slip 'n slide, follwed by her great ad lib, "I do my own stunts;"

• Robert Altman’s “I’m not done”;

• The sheer celebration by everyone having anything to do with "Crash," from all corners of the room.

Of course, there was one big moment we didn’t get to see. Just once, I’d love to see one of the nominees for a big award look really ticked, pissed, mad, sad, ripped off, angry, or disgusted when someone else’s name is announced. Now that would be an authentic moment.