I have probably mentioned that Duke prides itself on the fact that
EVERYTING in its weight loss program is research-based and rigorously
documented. One of the things they told us about was decision fatigue
(regular readers will recall); the more decisions you make, the worse
your decisions. Apparently, we only have so many decisions in us each
day. Turns out Barrack Obama has been told the same thing, according to
the recent Michael Lewis profile in
Vanity Fair:
This time he
covered a lot more ground and was willing to talk about the mundane
details of presidential existence. "You have to exercise," he said, for
instance. "Or at some point you'll just break down." You also need to
remove from your life the day-to-day problems that absorb most people
for meaningful parts of their day. "You'll see I wear only gray or blue
suits," he said. "I'm trying to pare down decisions. I don't want to
make decisions about what I'm eating or wearing. Because I have too
many other decisions to make." He mentioned research that shows the
simple act of making decisions degrades one's ability to make further
decisions. It's why shopping is so exhausting. "You need to focus your
decision-making energy. You need to routinize yourself. You can't be
going through the day distracted by trivia."
4 stars out of 5
A quite fascinating visit
to the land of time travel, designed by writer/director Rian Johnson
and realized with the help of stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt (playing
against type), Bruce Willis (playing Bruce Willis) and Emily Blunt
(plus a great cameo by Jeff Daniels, playing against type). More and
more, movies of this genre are resorting to what I call the "Groundhog
Day" solution: don't bother explaining, and let the rules gradually
emerge. That's what happens here. The one thing missing from all the
professional reviews of this film is that it is ultra-violent. Not Saw
ultra-violent, but people explode and fall apart in pretty disgusting
ways. It turns out to be a love story at heart, which is the best kind
of time travel story. After all, Groundhog
Day, and, for that matter, the Christoper Reeve vehicle Somewhere in Time
were love stories as well. The writing is very good, the story is
gripping, and, at two hours, it is 30 minutes longer than it needs to
be.
I had forgotten the David Fincher film The Game from 1997,
starring Michael Douglas, until my wife ran across it and we watched it
together last week. Clever, well-written mystery. If you haven't seen
it, see it. Totally impausible, and yet still thrilling.
Heard this on the Slate Culture Gabfest, and it is true:
Best Line
Delivery of All Time.
The description: "This line is from "The Box." It came out in 2007. Do
not confuse this with "The Box" starring Cameron Diaz which came out in
2009. Watch as Giancarlo Esposito rocks your world.." Esposito is
curremtly chewing up all available scenery in the NBC post-apocoalyptic
drama Revolution.
Daniel Dern noted the West Wing cast
appearing
in a campaign video.
Two political briefs:
Lobbyists
At Work
: Terrorists no more,
An
Explanation For Romney's Relative Reduction In Public Events
Dan Grobstein File
I turned 60 last week, and my daughters bought me six hours of
memoir-writing lessons as a gift. The gift was not actually a surprise,
and I haven't scheduled my sessions yet, but I have started gathering
string by listening to reviews of memoirs and memoir writers on the
podcasts I listen to. I have heard a couple of ideas I like as
organizing principles. I already know, because my older daughter has
taken a course in the subject, that memoirs differ from autobiography
in that they are stories, rather than a recitation of facts. I thought
I had written several memoirs; turns out I have written several
autobiographies--and printed up a half dozen copies of each.
When my daughters first mentioned this a few months ago, I thought I'd
write the memoir about my favorite subject, me. But of course any
memoir I write, no matter what the subject, is about me in the end,
since any memoir I write is about how I reacted to a situation, how I
remember it, how it affected me. So now, I am thinking (subject to
revision after talking to the teacher) or writing a memoir about my
parents.
One idea: the word stories. In a sense this is a meta idea, since
memoirs are stories, but in another it is a principle around which I
can organize writing about my mother, since she was a story teller, a
trait she passed on to me. Another idea: grudges. There are some very
long-held grudges on both sides of my family, involving both family and
outsiders.
Another comes from Alex Witchel of the New York Times, who
was discussing her new memoir Gone.
She used the phrase, "my mother lived for." Which made me
think, and then conclude that my mother lived for taking care of
children, and my father lived for being a driver with a commercial
license (or he lived for his work). I am not sure what I live for (and
I am not soliciting suggestions). My older daughter suggested "family."
My mother-in-law lived for travel, my father-in-law for his work.
Finally, I heard a memoirist use four adjectives to describe his
family. I am working on my list. This sounds like the old Time Magazine habit
from the 30s and 40s, in which each person was described with three
adjectives (balding, greedy, fast-talking). I have some ideas. I am
looking for a one-word synonym for grudge holding.
Firesign Theater, the Beatles of Comedy, is my
all-time favorite comedy troupe. They were based in LA and grew out of
radio--grew out of it rather quickly. The San Francisco-based echoes of
that phenomenon, back in the 60s, when people still made comedy albums,
were different, and never as popular (and even Firesign waned after the
four seminal Columbia albums). Personally, I love Ducks' Breath Mystery
Theater, so much so that I played their skits in the car for my
daughters all the time they were growing up. (They were from the
midwest, but they were in SF by the time they were recording). When the
opportunity presented itself, I hired Duck member Ian Shoales/Merle
Kessler to do audio commentary for a website I was editing. He did 40
of them. I still enjoy listening to them. And, last week, I was
informed of a two-man duo called Congress of Wonders. The jury is still
out on this group. They have a Firesign sensibility, but not Firesign
production values (their albums sound like something assembled by two
guys who worked in radio, which is what they were). Maybe they'll grow
on me.
2 stars out of 5
This rating is almost as hard to do as last week's six stars for Ruby Sparks was
easy. Two weeks ago, this film set a record for the greatest per-screen
take on an opening weekend. Reviewers were turned away from screenings.
My older daughter and I went to see it in 70mm at the Grand Lake
Theater in Oakland, one of only a dozen places in the country where it
can be seen in this once widespread and still impressive format. The
acting was amazing, mostly handled by Philip Seymour Hoffman and
Joaquin Phoenix. The directing by Paul Thomas Anderson was up to his
standards, the cinematography was impressive, the music was weird but
appropriate. But the script, also by Anderson was... inadequate. It was
clearly a roman a clef
about Scientology, but it ended up coming off like a bad biopic. It was
a strung together series of incidents, full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing. Hoffman furrows his brow, and Phoenix leaves no
scenery unchewed--to what end? Just goes to show you should review the
film, not the box office. I suspect word of mouth is going to sink this
turkey.
My rave review of
Ruby
Sparks last week left several readers in a state of doubt.
I will not be changing my favorite film; it continues to be
Groundhog Day. For
the reasons why, see my
fan
site.
Ruby
Sparks had originality, but GHD has originality (yes, I
know there were several science fiction stories using the same gimmick
that preceded it, but I've read them and Danny Rubin/Howard Ramis were
much cleverer) and a message--only through selfless service can we
break out of the endless repetition of this life (or the cycle of
reincarnation, if you're inclined that way).
Andy Borowitz is now blogging at the
New Yorker; his
Letter
from Ann Romney is as funny as most of his stuff, which is to
say, pretty funny.
Miichael Moore's amazing book
Here
Comes Trouble Again is now out in paperback. I haven't
read it, but I've read other books of his, seen all his movies, and
read the excerpts he's posted. It looks great. Someday, I'll find time
to read it. What's your excuse?
Apropos of last week's remarks about testing, a friend sends along word
that the
Boston Globe looked
at the
relationship
between family income and test scores, and,
mirabile dictu,
kids from well-off families do better than kids from poor families. If
you predict the scores based solely on income, you get a
pretty
accurate prediction of how a district will score.
Dan Grobstein File