The Breaking Time

A simple proposal for better Presidential debates

'Nuff said

Despite my general love of political wonkery, I've never particularly liked Presidential debates, regardless of what year it is or who's running. They generally end up such garbled, stage-managed bits of kabuki theatre that there's little real substance, and the campaign is decided elsewhere.

So here's a basic proposal to improve the three debates* and update them for the modern era:

First Debate: Voight-Kampff test Remember Blade Runner? I doubt we can truly know if someone is fit for office until they've answered a series of relentless, disturbing questions. Forget Jim Lehrer, the moderator needs to be an ex-cop with a trenchcoat and deep identity issues, preferably drunk.

The goal is to goad the candidates into psychological breakdown or, alternatively, reveal that they're a replicant. Robots, being inherently untrustworthy, should never be allowed near political office.

Second Debate: Musical showdown I'm surprised this hasn't happened before (and no, Clinton playing the sax doesn't count). The candidates trade barbs in tune, resembling one of those terrible old school musicals or, more brutally, Sam Shepard's classic duel in The Tooth of Crime. Chorus lines required by the Supreme Court.

Third Debate: Thunderdome The third debate will give the masses of this country what they've secretly been yearning for since Andrew Jackson killed all those people in duels: a bloody, one-on-one fight between the potential leaders of this great land.** The blow-dried-hair-and-suit look will be replaced by post-apocalyptic armor and rockin' battle scars. Pundits can pore over whether the choice of a chainsaw or a tire iron to maim one's opponent secretly represents a candidate's true views on foreign policy (or possibly healthcare for seniors).

I promise, the debates will lose no relevance with this new format.

* The Vice Presidential debate, sideshow that it is, will now consist of a drinking contest followed by the two candidates hurling the vilest insults they can muster for an hour.

**If a primary, the final debate will be settled by Hunger Game.

Zombies, Mutants, Cyborgs and Aliens: Fight for the Future

Welcome back Damien Williams for a riveting rant on, well, the aforementioned bogeymen, and what kind of future our culture is choosing.

Please pick another apocalypse. Image by Quidditch.

I don't like zombies. I don't mean I'm afraid of them, or that they skeeve me out. I mean that I don't like the current use of them as trope, or a modern cultural cipher. I told you this the last time we spoke, and I told you that I'd tell you why.

You see, back in the day, when Romero was using zombies to talk about consumer culture and the death of individual preference in the face of mass markets, a zombie horde was a potent symbol. It was crushing, endless, homogenizing death. Why do you think Dawn of the Dead takes place in a mall? It was a terrifying indictment of what Romero believed was happening to our society.

Later, when the zombie symbol came to be applied out to Western society as a whole, and not just its consumerist leanings, the fast zombie became the stand-in for the hyper-connectivity and infectious nature of concept, idea, and emotion. Unthinking Rage just spreads and spreads.

That was all well and good. The problem is, zombies don't represent that anymore. Honestly, so far as I see it? Zombies don't represent anything anymore. The modern zombie is an empty symbol, representing only itself. The fight against zombies is now only the pure expression of futility, of never giving up in the face of odds which will defeat us. Zombies are just about Fear. They are collapse and terror and, yes, also the changes that survival of terror wreaks on people. But, in the final offing, I think that's boring.

I'm what some might call a pop culture junkie. I'm interested in all aspects of the popular media (even if, as I say, I don't exactly enjoy every single one of them), because I believe that our pop culture is reflexively connected to the wider culture. It tells us what we're thinking, it tells us how we're feeling, and in turn it influences those thoughts and emotions.

Pop culture amplifies and exaggerates our existing beliefs, distilling them down and reflecting them back to us in a glittering panoply of spectacle and story. What this means for you and me is that, as long as I'm here at The Breaking Time, I'll very often talk to you about the nature of our society — and our perception of its imminent and immanent collapse — through the lens of our pop culture and what it is doing for and to us. If the ascension of “Reality” television is Jean Baudrillard's nightmare scenario, then the rise of zombie apocalypse narrative is mine.

Gongs and drums: Political manipulation in seven acts

McKinley/Roosevelt campaign poster, 1900

"Gongs and drums, banners and flags, are means whereby the ears and eyes of the host may be focused on one particular point."

-Sun Tzu

1912 short film from the Woodrow Wilson campaign attacking the Taft administration. According to PBS, "it is the earliest known example of a political party or candidate using the medium of motion picture to communicate with voters." Via The Daily Dish.

1930s film produced by the U.S. government advertising the achievements of the New Deal.

Kennedy campaign theme song, 1960.

"Nixon Now," theme song from his 1972 campaign

Reagan's famous "Morning in America" ad, 1984

Bush/Cheney "Wolves" ad, 2004

A tale of two trailers: 2001 in 1968 and 2012

Busy few days at the day job, so this is a quick post, but here's an interesting glimpse at just how much cultural tastes have changed.

Here's a trailer for Stanley Kubrick's classic 2001: A Space Odyssey, made in 2012 blockbuster style:

My, aren't we a hyper bunch? Now here's one of the original trailers from 1968:

"In the first year of the 21st century there is strange and wondrous beauty..."

A part of my controlling, Virgo soul misses the moment authoritative narrators were replaced by techno. Enjoy, y'all. I'll try to be back with something more profound tomorrow.

Horde Hop

So in my infinite wisdom, I chose to relaunch the blog on the week of the largest street festival in the Southeast happening right in my f'ing neighborhood. Luckily, this is also the same week I'm getting a major story ready for print, so time to search for an appropriate poem is completely lacking.

In lieu of written poetry, take this bit from the Polish band group Donatan RÓWNONOC, who have managed the, er, inevitable fusion of hip hop and medieval re-enaction (this must become a trend). Our Friday poetry tradition will have to wait another week to come out of hibernation. In the meantime, it's a strange and fascinating world: go pillage something.

Intermission, with riding crops (and singing)

I have a number of posts in the works, but reporting duties haven't proven kind this week, so the time to finish them isn't easy to come by.

In the meantime, here's Peter O'Toole singing "Dem Bones," from the sublimely strange 1972 movie The Ruling Class. Enjoy, and never trust an aristocrat.

Democracy is coming

I am an unrepentant Leonard Cohen fan, and one of the keys to his genius is his poetic brilliance. "Democracy," originally a good song, gains a new power spoken, in this old piece from the United States of Poetry.

It's today's poem and, I hope, tomorrow's.

Intermission, with Christopher Lee. Singing.

So a very busy week concludes with Journalist's Bane, or, as it's known to you lot, April Fools' Day.

You'd think that our professional appreciation for pitch-black humor and deception would make this a beloved holiday for my kind. Any enjoyment, however, is countered by the fact that reporting during such a time becomes a tricky business. "Oh, you're going to hold a mass protest? Sure. You have irrefutable evidence of governmental corruption? Riiighhht. Pull the other one, it plays Free Bird."

The above video is not a deception. Yes, that's Christopher Lee, as a supervillain. Talking to Alan Arkin. Who is in tights. Then f'ing Saruman starts singing an ode to booze.

It's from the little-remembered Richard O'Brien-penned musical The Return of Captain Invincible. The movie also includes this classic bit, best screamed at politicians, flacks, cyber-utopians, trust-fund anarchists and CEOs, in no particular order.

Happy Journalist's Bane, everyone. Serious posting will return next week.

Intermission, with music (and swords)

Yeah, it's been dry here this week, dear readers, and for that you have my sincere apologies. I suppose I could make the usual mumblings about being tied up with a heavy journalism workload or busy trying to set up an awesome film festival for my fellow Ashevilleans. All things that are nice and (relatively) sober.

No, those sneaky Germans at Silver Strain snuck out (terribly bootlegged) footage of what I and my terribly decadent friends have really been up to. But I admit the music is awesome. So while I recover from quaffing mysterious liquids out of smoldering goblets, enjoy. Blogging will resume shortly.

§ - TIMES 3 feat.☾∧† ◯ from § on Vimeo.

The Rundown: Sanity break edition

Holy shit, there's a lot going on out there.

This post, gloriously, is concerned about none of it. 

This post is about letting some steam off for a second and watching some utterly hilarious, random videos from around the internet.

There's Betty White. There's semi-literate gold prospectors with their own cable talk shows. Also, the muppets meet the Sex Pistols. And Pirates. Sodom-tastic pirates.

Enjoy.