"My Name Was on the Street?"

It is the eve of the 2010 midterm elections, and I would be remiss if I let the moment pass without some commentary. Of course, Interweb Detritus' fierce and furious election coverage in the build-up to the 2008 hope and change extravaganza was -- history will judge -- worthy of awards and plaudits. The crowning pinnacle of my own offerings in those heady times can be found here. (7-part series; scroll to the bottom.)

It has been almost three years since that series. Back then we didn't even know that ______ was going to get capped by his own ______; and that blank would avenge his death by capping _______. Season 5 of The Wire, its laboring and loopy goodness (not greatness) had yet to kind of disappoint us. The economy hadn't yet fully cratered; Obama still had a glimmer of promise; "Predator drone" and "top kill" were not part of our quotidian exchanges.

The day after the soul-shattering election of 2008 I changed the subheading to the blog to what it reads now. I wish I weren't so cynical, but neither cynicism--nor presecience for that matter--can be credited with those words. We elected a slippery, fundamentally non-ideological person--someone who announced himself that way--but who somehow convinced us that his rhetoric was different than all the rhetoric that came before. To reconstitute the words of Slim Charles, when you run on a lie, I suppose, you lose--or lose ground--on that lie too.

And so here we are. The midterms of 2010, and the economy has not improved; the same bovine, unprincipled middle 30% that liked the branding two years ago has found a different brand to get behind now. When you unleash a hope for change in the electorate, that feeling will become endemic. I don't know. What I do know is this: there are some fucking first-class fuck-ups who are taking their guns and their pillboxes and their serpentine flags to Washington come January. After the election results are posted tomorrow, I'll check the count and tally the bodies. Check back in then for....

Elected Tea Party Horsemen of the Apocalypse as Characters from The Wire.

Partlow for Postmaster General

Chris Partlow and Detective Greggs at an Obama rally in North Carolina yesterday. The vote of the one guy who's into The Wire but couldn't decide between McCain and Obama has now been secured. Also, Bill Ayers is a problem but the coldest psychopath in West Baltimore stumping for Obama the McCain people let slide?

pandas to distract you from my secret shame

ooh, this is a good game - the telegraph of london asked authors which Great Books they were ashamed to admit they had never read. since that list would be MUCH too long, i'm going to present a less literary (and more new york magazine-y) version. at the risk of alienating the entire readership (i.e., c4ts), here is a list of Great Pop Cultural, uh, Things which i've not read/seen/heard:

• the wire - yes, i admit it! bayrex, i'm sorry. i made it to episode 3 of season 1. i will have to return the DVDs to you.
  
• sonic youth - pioneers, vanguard, forefather/mothers, etc. don't care.
• none of the russians (y'know, tolstoy, dostoevsky, chekhov, etc.) - i said that to someone once and he asked, "not even nabokov?" i dunno, i tend to not include him. am i wrong on this?
• big lebowski - everyone freaking fell all over themselves when this movie came out. i dunno, i don't get it. something about bowling or something.
  

anyway, if you have a Pop Cultural Shame, do let me know so that i don't feel so alone. and pedestrian.

Grace and Disgrace

Last night The Wire brought its Sophoclesian narrative to a bittersweet end. It's not my intention to spoil the show for those who aren't yet caught up (so easy on the links, cowboy), but I will say this: with the final season-ending montage, the super-narrative came clearly into focus. While the show has always luxuriated in its panoply of finely wrought characters, its chief concern has never been the individual, but the insitutions that are at the heart of a broken system--and how those institutions betray the individuals they're meant to serve. The show's beloved characters--Omar, Bunk, Clay Davis, to name only three--either operate within or are crushed by the systemic institutions (the drug trade, the police department, the political machine) that define them, and as they try to game the system itself, reform it, act outside of it, ultimately, they find they can never escape its reach.

Fittingly, at the end of last night's show, we find out if honey-tongued, Obama-esque, young Mayor Carcetti wins the prize he's so long coveted--the Maryland state house--or if he gets the comeuppance he (may or may not) deserve. When we first meet Carcetti in season three, he is the embodiment of two qualities, cunning and idealism, in equal measure, but as his star rises, his cunning manages to vanquish his idealism. In a wonderful moment in this season, he comes home to watch himself on TV and announces word of his latest, foul-stenched political compromise to his pretty, passive wife. In that moment she finally comes to see him for what he has become: her face contorts into a picture of disgust, but Carcetti is oblivious. His own visage dances and speechifies before him on the television...

This post was intended merely to be a thank you to David Simon (pictured), Ed Burns, Richard Price, Dennis Lehane, and George Pelecanos, The Wire brain-trust, for that moment and all the others I will miss, but with today's news that yet another zealous, young reformer--equal parts cunning and idealism--a man who had renewed my hope in the future of American politics, has disgraced himself and his party (which, let's face it, ain't easy), has forfeited any chance for higher office, has fed us lies about virtue and the rule of law, was caught in--of all things--a federal wiretap investigation, not unlike the one that may or may not have brought down Marlo Stanfield (see, no spoilers), I know all those sad, dark Wirey moments abound. The show may be over, but the show goes on.

Thank you, David Simon, for giving me some hope, despite all the stench, all the ugliness; and fuck you, Eliot Spitzer, for making me believe you were cut from a different cloth.

No Spoilers...

...I respect the wishes of readers who are caught up in the early seasons of The Wire, so I will only say this: the young hopper pictured above, Kenard, tore my heart out tonight, but it's all in the Game.

My Most Inevitable Post Ever -- Part 7

Mike Huckabee/Herc

Both manage to force themselves onscreen though neither has any particular talent. Most memorable scenes involve humor (Huckabee's Colbert Show appearances/Herc trying to move that file cabinet in one of the earlier seasons) or shocking incompetence (Huckabee's blissful ignorance of the NIE and willful disavowal of evolution/Herc's attempts to recover the camera Marlo stole and his fucking-over of Randy's life). In the end, these two are big, dumb white guys in a game that just ain't about them anymore.

My Most Inevitable Post Ever -- Part 6

Rudy Giuliani/Ziggy

In a game I otherwise love, I hate these two with an all-consuming passion. Their very existences make no sense in context. Both share funny voices and wild delusions of grandeur. In the end, those who created them (I honestly have no fucking clue why anyone thought this guy would be good at anything/David Simon) have done us all a favor and completely lost interest in their storylines. The only thing that could undermine this season (Presidential/televisual) is if one or both manages to worm his way back into the plot (Florida primary/some sort of prison break). Either way, were that to happen my respect for America/David Simon would be shattered beyond repair.

My Most Inevitable Post Ever -- Part 5

Mitt Romney/Prezbo

Both needed some forgettable old men to bail them out of serious trouble (Romney relied on his dad and on his own status as a native son to pull out Michigan and keep his campaign afloat/Prezbo needed his father-in-law, Valcheck, to go to bat for him after he lost his head and beat the shit out of that one kid in season 1 or 2). Both have a talent for office work, but in the field neither has experienced much success. Both have reinvented themselves (Massachusetts moderate --> Michigan conservative/cop --> teacher), and hope that the sins of their respective pasts don't catch up with them. What does this season have in store? I honestly have no idea, but despite heavy camera attention last year, no one expects these guys to have much of a role when the curtain finally drops.

My Most Inevitable Post Ever -- Part 4

John McCain/Jimmy McNulty

Both cultivated reputations as mavericks in their respective fields: McCain challenged Republican orthodoxy by standing up for campaign finance reform and against Big Tobacco; McNulty pissed Rawls and Burrell off by drawing attention to the bodies Avon's crew was racking up. Neither is really all that likeable, but for much of their careers one could forgive their failings because of their dedication to their work. Recently, however (the summer months of the McCain campaign/all of Season 4 when McNulty sobered up and disappeared from the show) both looked like they'd squandered their leading man status as others rose up around them. But as things started to come to a head, both got their shit together (McCain pulled out New Hampshire/McNulty went back to the sauce and, equally important, back to homicide). If you asked me a few years ago, I'd have told you these guys are the stars, but have they pissed off too many people (the Evangelical base/the entire Baltimore police department) to be left standing when the season comes to an end?

My Most Inevitable Post Ever -- Part 3

Hillary Clinton/Prop Joe

Both have survived as long as they have because they understand deeply and intuitively how the game works. Clinton was deflecting potshots from Gingrich and Maureen Dowd when her current challengers were playing handball in the schoolyard; Prop Joe took on Avon in Season 1, negotiated with Stringer through season 2, hooked up the Greek connect, formed the co-op, and managed challenges from Omar, all the while bringing Slim Charles and all the west-side peoples into the fold. Right now, he looks out-muscled by Marlo and his astonishingly well-organized team (Snoop and Chris Partlow), but are you really going to count him out as the storm Marlo's invited starts to gather?

My Most Inevitable Post Ever -- Part 2

Barack Obama/Marlo Stanfield

Both rocketed to fame from modest beginnings (Illinois state legislature/umm, literally out of the fucking blue) to dominate in respective arenas (Iowa/West Baltimore). While both rake in the cash, they can't rest until the crown is placed firmly on their heads. Inevitably, both clash with the elder states(wo)men in the game (the Clintons/Prop Joe), who clearly fear them, but all are left wondering, when the dust settles how does this end? Is this youthful exuberance or the work of a wunderkind we're watching?

My Most Inevitable Post Ever -- Part 1

First of all, shut up. I know "inevitability" is an absolute, and cannot be quantified. The title is just a bit of poetic license. Note, this quality is also true of "unique," despite some readers' faith in modern usage. Anyway, the point of the post is this: while some have decided to analogize the presidential field to college football teams (highlight: Edwards/Clemson -- "Attractive; high-energy; fan bases are an occasionally uncomfortable mix of blue-collar types and influential big-money boosters...") and others to the hip hop scene (Joe Biden/Joe Budden -- "I'm lazy."), I'm taking the obvious route here. I present the Presidential candidates if they were characters from The Wire...

John Edwards/Stringer Bell

Golden boys in their own right, both worked tirelessly to advance the goals of another (John Kerry/Avon Barksdale) who, because of stubbornness, would only disappoint them. Ultimately, both tried to change the rules of the game altogether and strike out on their own (eschewing the Democratic establishment for politically unsellable populism/eschewing the game for life as a legit businessman). Despite fiercely loyal fans, both had to meet their ends, sadly and brutally, at the hands of a fierce and unlikely tag team--Obama-Clinton/Omar-Brother Mouzone.

Happy Armageddon!

Hey, I need to blog again. I know. Parents were in town Christmasweek, and then 'Pockets and I flew back east for a wedding in Pittsburgh/to see if my new niece/nephew had arrived on the scene, but that's no excuse: Benazir was assassinated/bumped her head; Pakistan devolved into a riotous and blood-spattered free-for-all (which led to the destruction of, among other things, my aunt's car...while she was driving it); The Wire season premiere dropped On Demand; Mike Huckabee became the would-be-nominee for a bit, then started to talk about things not related to our Lord and Savior/love handles; Giuliani became irrelevant; and Will Smith secretly converted to Scientology (which makes him still more electable than Romney). Also, Happy New Year! Here's to hoping that nuclear holocaust/impending Chinese colonization/bird flu/Britney-LiLo-Winehouse's inevitable group overdose and-or suicide pact decides to put off plans till '09 at least.

average white band

c4ts, i know you started a new job and all, but have you read this week's new yorker? aka the "arts" issue? anyway, i direct your attention to two articles in particular: your fave sasha frere-jones yet again fretting, this time about the state of indie rock, and the profile of david simon. hmm, now that i think about it, did you edit this issue?

no matter. the simon profile managed to combine all of my interests in one neat package: a temperamental protagonist (simon), a dramatically decaying city (baltimore), and rare insight into how the "vows" column works (connections). yeah, i know, virtually everyone i know is freaking obsessed with the wire. why aren't i on board? what can i say. i'm often a late adopter (and have pretty pedestrian tastes) when it comes to tv. indeed, confession time. i've never seen a single episode of the sopranos, yet this onion article made me reminisce like nobody's business.

oh uncle jesse! remember the time your girlfriend rescued DJ from her imminent eating disorder? i do!

now to turn my attention to frere-jones' article. i know that most critics just sound like people lamenting the days of yore (to wit, yet another whiny piece from david denby), but he really aggravates me. i can't disparage his article entirely since i've been rather bored by the music scene of late myself, but he essentially blames the whitewashing of indie rock on pavement? really? what about nirvana? kurt cobain certainly wasn't "miscegenating" in his albums and nirvana are far more influential and widely imitated than pavement.

second confession time: i love pavement. no doubt. and i'm definitely going to raise c4ts's ire here, but something about malkmus' brilliant privileged-white-man-insouciance just got to me. when i read in the table of contents that sasha frere-jones was gonna write on why indie rock was so white, i thought he was referring to its target and actual audience. bc they're white.

but you know, what the new yorker taketh away with one hand, they giveth with another bc the same issue managed to rescue me with its article on the internets and classical music. i don't like schoenberg much, aside from transfigured night. who the eff actually listens to pierrot lunaire? be real, snobs. who doesn't like a little tonality. anyway, how can you not love the fact you can find archived letters of him writing to the ford motor dealership about his car's failing cooling system? i wish there were a blog devoted to brilliant people doing quotidian things. i'd totally read that.

while researching something else altogether, i came across this wikipedia entry. one of my favorites will be posted in a bit.

[Ed note: an apt and hilarious image will be uploaded later. blogger issues.]

update: apparently this sasha frere-jones article annoyed many in the (gag) blogosphere.

yet another update: you know i had a dream last night (for real) that someone commented on my posts? HINT HINT. anyway, this slate article sums up my frustrations at SFJ better than my own post.

The Wire -- January 2008

I thought the free Radiohead was all the joy my computer could provide me with this week, but then The Wire promo dropped on the New York Magazine site. The teaser's devoid of clips from the upcoming season, it embraces West B'more's vampiric loathing of dawn, and it tells of McNulty's pending release from his teetotaling cage. The slow decay of urban America never sounded so good.