Archive for the ‘Criticism/critique’ Category
Thoughts on Papa Roach’s “Leave a Light On (Talk Away the Dark)”
Sorry about the brief hiatus in posts, folks. Nothing much to report, except that I’m still working on writing, editing, and that I hope to finish a musical composition of some sort soon.
Anyway, while I have been “away” (away in no real sense, but not posting), I’ve been contemplating Papa Roach’s single “Leave a Light On (Talk Away the Dark)” quite a bit. (Here’s a link to the YouTube video.) This song is a fundraiser for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFPS.org), a group close to Papa Roach’s heart.
Those of you reading along may not know who Papa Roach is. I didn’t, a few years ago, though I knew a few of their songs. (“Last Resort” is a personal favorite.) They are an American hard-rock group from California, and they once had a regular trombonist. (I approve of that! More rock groups should have interesting instrumentation.) They also have talked much about suicide, suicide prevention, depression, and anxiety throughout their career, as it’s important to them.
I’ve posted before about how this is a cause important to me (though I may not have put it that bluntly). One of my best friends killed himself before age forty. (We were on the same bowling team, years ago.) I’ve also watched as excellent singers and other musicians have struggled with addiction, anxiety, suicidal ideation, and more with my own unique perspective. (Hey, being a musician who’s not known along with being a writer who’s not known either has to have a unique perspective, or she’d just give up. I’m not into giving up. Moving on…)
When high-profile singers such as Linkin Park’s Chester Bennington and Soundgarden’s Chris Cornell die too young, what else can you think other than that life can be a major struggle? Being extravagantly talented can’t always save you.
But talking about your problems, honestly and with empathy, can.
That’s what Papa Roach’s song is all about.
Fortunately, because those musicians did so much to acknowledge their struggles while they were still alive, other musicians have continued to acknowledge their own struggles, partly because of the memories of their dearly beloved and departed friends. Papa Roach has a live version of “Leave a Light On (Talk Away the Dark)” that is dedicated to Chester Bennington, for example. Disturbed’s song “Hold on to Memories” has pictures of Bennington, Cornell, and quite a few other musicians who’ve died too young that Disturbed knew well to get across the fact that these people’s lives mattered. (I’ve discussed “Hold on to Memories” before.)
Perhaps a quote from a previous blog, which I called “When Life Does Not Go as Planned,” applies here:
Life, sometimes, is just damned hard. But we get up, we try, we do our best, we create or build or work hard on whatever it is that we feel called to do. Even when we’ve felt like we’ve failed at our deepest levels, what we’ve done matters. Even when our lives have been shattered, what we’ve done and who we’ve loved and how hard we’ve tried matters.
I believe, quite firmly, that’s what Papa Roach’s song “Leave a Light On (Talk Away the Dark)” is all about.
Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this song, if you haven’t heard it before. It’s one of several songs I’ve been paying attention to lately, along with the aforementioned “Hold on to Memories” and Shinedown’s “A Symptom of Being Human.”
Remember this, though: You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to do great things every single day. You don’t have to be anyone other than yourself. You are valuable just the way you are, and if you can keep putting one foot in front of the other, that absolutely matters. Whether anyone else aside from you knows it or not…it does, does matter.
Discussing Daughtry’s SFnal, Dystopian Single, “Artificial”
The other day, I heard a new song from Daughtry, the band fronted by former American Idol contestant Chris Daughtry. Daughtry is known mostly for their single “It’s Not Over.” That’s a hopeful song, in its way, about the ups and downs of relationships. But the new song, “Artificial,” definitely is not hopeful. In any way.
“Artificial” is about human beings being supplanted by robots, AIs, synthetics…the world has turned poisonous, and the scenery looks like an old Mad Max movie, which sets the scene for the dystopic lyrics. For example, the second verse includes the lyrics, “No sickness, no dying, no disease/no begging for mercy on your knees. No God, no religion, no beliefs.” This may seem somewhat innocuous, especially to secular humanists, but the choruses definitely aren’t. “Welcome to your worst nightmare. Days are getting dark, you should be scared. It doesn’t have a heart. Plug into the new you…the death of who we are is right here.” (I jumped a few lines down, thus the ellipsis.)
Because Daughtry himself is muscular and fit–especially for age 44–he plays himself being uploaded into the “perfect,” human-looking robot. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly work out.
Now, why did I say fortunately, or maybe unfortunately? Well, in this dystopic nightmare of a world, that’s apparently the only way you’re going to survive. It’s a travesty; it’s not human, as the lyrics say. The whole bit about “no begging for mercy on your knees” is about compassion, and about how the robots–or whatever they are–don’t have any. They’re just beings, without true emotions; they think, but they don’t sleep. They can’t admit to fear, even if they feel it–then again, they don’t feel much of anything–and it’s obviously not the way a human being wants to live.
There is a second level to “Artificial,” though, that’s more relevant to me as a writer and editor. There’s a real problem right now, that’s grown significantly worse in the past five years, with AI programs grabbing hold of people’s work–whether music, art, writing, you name it–and not paying anything for this. If one, single AI was the creation of some guy in his basement who had no money at all, then maybe this wholesale “borrowing” (read: using without paying) would be understandable even if still wrong. However, the AI programs are being developed by some of the biggest and wealthiest companies in the world.
They don’t have an excuse. They should be paying writers, musicians, artists, etc., for the use of their works if they’re going to be used to try to bring about a better and more comprehensive version of AI (artificial intelligence).
So, the lyric “It doesn’t have a heart” in “Artificial” could, conceivably, be talking about Google. Or Microsoft. Or whomever else that’s trying to develop an AI. If they had hearts, working souls, and even an ounce of compassion, they’d not have taken so many different people’s work without paying for it.
They certainly don’t seem to have ethics, either. Or they’d be paying writers, musicians, etc., for their work. As they should.
So, getting back to “Artificial,” Daughtry seems to be saying that in the not-so-distant future, there will be copies of what he does. Purporting to be what he and his band have actually done. (Maybe he’s referring to deep-fakes, in an elliptical way.) But it’s “ice cold, mechanical. Artificial.”
A real musician, a real band, playing in real time (even if it’s recorded and played back in any medium), has a nuance and resonance that, so far anyway, synthetic programs can’t match. The sound, itself, may seem to be easily replicated, but it’s not.
You might be asking, “Barb, what are you talking about? The YouTube video will always play the same version of the song, with no variations.”
But in live performance, there will be variations. There have to be. Every time a piece of music is played, sung, or performed in any way, it’s going to be a little different in one way or another. That’s because it has life. Purpose. A sort of drive that infuses the music, makes it far more than simply numbers on a page represented as notes (and put to lyrics, in the case of Daughtry’s “Artificial”).
In short, music has soul. The best music, made by thoughtful musicians throughout our recorded history, has touched something in us, something profound. (Even something as silly as “Purple People-Eater,” with the lyrics of “one-eyed, one-horned flying purple people eater,” will make us laugh. Laughter, itself, can be profound in its way. So sayeth I, at any rate.)
Chris Daughtry and the rest of his band, Daughtry, are excellent musicians. They put together songs that tell stories. They have multiple levels in at least some of their songs (as seen with the recent song “Artificial”), which shows a remarkably fluent and in-depth understanding of what they’re trying to do. There’s life to their songs. And just a bit of edginess (which I appreciate), along with outstanding performance values, brings about the best of results.
So, “Artificial” is a departure for Daughtry due to being dystopic. But it’s a welcome one, especially under the circumstances. I hope they write a whole lot more songs about whatever they feel like, as there’s no way an AI could ever reproduce their passion, drive, wit, and ability.
Do not accept substitutes, people. (Further the writer sayeth not.)
Paramount Plus Cancels “Prodigy,” and I have thoughts…
A few days ago, I got up to read that Paramount Plus (aka P-Plus) — the streaming service that had finally garnered all of the various Star Trek shows under one roof, so to speak — had unexpectedly cancelled the animated series Star Trek: Prodigy.
How unexpected was this? Well, they’d nearly finished post-production for the entirety of season two.
In other words, this came out of the clear, blue sky.
Making matters even worse, Prodigy was an entry-level series meant for both kids and adults. It was co-branded with Nickelodeon, even…then, with about three days’ notice, Prodigy was gone off the P-Plus streaming service.
Now, this ticked me off. It ticked me off to the point that I found a way to send a message with my wallet. I bought the digital-only copy of the entirety of season one, which was available through Amazon’s Prime Video service. I also started watching the show, something I’d intended to do for months but just hadn’t gotten around to due to so many different things going on that aced that out, priority-wise…and managed to stream six episodes before P-Plus took the series off the site completely.
I also have to add that this was a show — Prodigy, I mean — my late husband Michael would’ve loved. He loved animated shows anyway, but a new Star Trek animated show? He’d have been all over that one, just as I am.
So, what’s so great about Prodigy? It’s funny in a low-key way, it has a holographic Admiral Janeway (the wonderful Kate Mulgrew), and it’s a roundabout continuation of Star Trek: Voyager in some ways as the USS Protostar — a ship the youngsters that end up constituting the crew find on a mining planet where most of them were prisoners and commandeer — had been Captain Chakotay’s ship before it went missing. Chakotay, of course, was Kathryn Janeway’s first officer for many years on the Voyager before they finally made their way back to the Alpha quadrant and home.
So what happened there to the original crew of the USS Protostar? No one knows, as far as I can tell, though I haven’t finished season one yet. From what I’ve read online, at least some of the mystery was to be solved in season two…providing it gets picked up by someone else.
I hope it does, because I like it. I wish I’d found time to start watching sooner, mind you; still, I’ve done what I can, for the moment, and that’s going to have to stand.
If you, like me, are frustrated by P-Plus’s move, there is a petition here that you might want to sign. You also may want to buy a physical copy of the first ten episodes (half of season one), which is all that’s been released on DVD as of yet, though it’s selling out nearly everywhere. Or, like me, you may want to buy a digital copy of Prodigy from Amazon…though it may be unavailable. (How can a digital copy of anything be unavailable? Mine’s there, ’cause I’ve already bought it. I just checked.)
Anyway, I have been enjoying Prodigy and I intend to talk more about it once I’ve finished watching the first ten episodes. (There are twenty episodes in the digital-only version of Prodigy, mind.) But for now, my thoughts are these:
P-Plus, you blew it. Seriously. If you want all of Star Trek to be under one roof, figuratively, you just screwed that up. No tax break is worth this negative-three trifecta of “angers the fans, angers the Prodigy showrunners, angers the media.” These three things are now going to only keep getting bigger, like a snowball going down a steep hill.
If you want my advice, it’s this: Get Prodigy back on the P-Plus platform, stat. Apologize to the fans and the showrunners. Say you had no idea so many people wanted to watch this show. Say that you are floored by the fan outburst going on — the only outburst more prominent than this one re: any version of Star Trek is the proposal for Star Trek: Legacy, a hopeful spinoff of Star Trek: Picard — and vow to do better in the future.
Anything else is unworthy of the people who support your streaming service. Including me.
What Do You Deserve from Your Employer, Or, Meditations on Mike Budenholzer’s Firing from the Milwaukee Bucks
This past week, the Milwaukee Bucks parted ways with their head coach, Mike Budenholzer. The Bucks had the best record in the NBA this past season at 58-24, and had the #1 seed throughout the playoffs. However, this only lasted for one series, as the Bucks were eliminated by the #8 seed, the Miami Heat. It’s because of this disastrous (for pro sports) outcome that Budenholzer was fired.
“Ah, but Barb,” you say. “Your blog’s title is ‘What do you deserve from your employer.’ What does that have to do with the Bucks/Budenholzer situation?'”
My answer: Plenty.
You see, for the second year in a row, the Bucks went out early in the playoffs, though last year the Bucks at least got through the first round and past the #8 seed. (Early, in this context is, “Did not ascend to the NBA Finals.”) The Bucks feature possibly the best player in the NBA, Giannis Antetokounmpo. He’s in his prime right now at age 28, and the Bucks have been built around him for five-plus years now.
I say “five-plus” because Budenholzer was the coach for the past five years. Budenholzer’s record in the regular season was stellar at 271-120, which means the Bucks won almost seventy percent of their games.
Yep. No misprint. That’s how many wins Budenholzer had as the head coach of the Bucks: 271.
Not only that, Budenholzer coached the Bucks to the 2021 NBA Championship. The Bucks hadn’t won a championship in the NBA in fifty years, but they won with “Coach Bud.”
“Barb, you still haven’t gotten to the bit about what the coach deserves from his employer. I assume that’s where you’re going with this?”
Why, yes, dear reader. That is exactly — exactly — what I’m going for, and I’ll tell you why, too.
First, though, I want to explain something else to y’all, some of you who probably don’t know much about professional basketball. When you have the best team in the league, you are expected to win all the time, no matter what.
Including when one of your brothers dies in a car accident, which no one knew about until after the Bucks had lost in five games to the Heat.
See, Coach Bud didn’t want to make the playoffs about him, so he said nothing. But he was grieving. He found out just before game four that his brother had died. And it was in games four and five that some of the coach’s decisions seemed rather odd. But he is the youngest of seven kids. One of his elder brothers died, Budenholzer was being private as is his right about his brother’s passing, but I don’t think the coach understood just how strange grief can be when it comes to anything else. Most particularly the time sense, as when you grieve for someone you loved, nothing seems real for a while. And certainly time seems sometimes like it’s running away, and other times, it seems like it’s stopped.
I don’t know about you, but I think if someone who’s very good at their job, like Coach Bud, has a bad series or makes questionable decisions after his brother dies, I think you should give him a pass. He’s grieving, dammit! His brother’s life was more important than basketball, and yet because he is a professional, and because he’d been with his team all year, he stayed to do his best and coach his team.
I admire that impulse, but it may not have the right one.
That said, the Bucks did way wrong here. They should not have fired Coach Bud, not under these circumstances. Instead, they should’ve hired a top-flight assistant head coach perhaps to work on the defense (as the Bucks’ defense got torched by Heat superstar Jimmy “Buckets” Butler and were completely unable to stop him) and let the coach grieve his brother.
Why? Well, look again at the coach’s record. Think about the fact that two years ago, the Bucks won the NBA Championship for the first time in 50 years with this coach at the helm.
In most cases, employers realize if they have a great employee — and in any case, Coach Bud was just that — but the employee is a bit off due to grief or grieving, even if the employee maybe doesn’t even realize it (it’s possible the coach didn’t), you are supposed to let your employee take time off to deal with his grief.
In other words, you don’t fire the best coach in the NBA because he was off a bit for two games after his brother died. That’s dumb, to put it mildly, and more to the point, it’s an overreaction.
So, what does your employer owe you when you have something awful happen like a death in the family? They owe you time to grieve. They should give you time off from work, with pay, to go bury your sibling in a case like this.
You don’t deserve to be fired.
I don’t know Coach Budenholzer at all. But I do know this. What the Bucks did was classless, not to mention truly horrible behavior under the circumstances. They should not have done this. And as a Bucks fan, I am incensed.
Star Trek: Picard Ends in Two Days…and Other Stuff
Folks, over the past few months, I’ve been flummoxed by something that’s happened here at my blog. Namely, my posts about the TV show Drop Dead Diva have had hundreds of page views, despite being several years old — and despite Drop Dead Diva going off the air in 2014.
Look. I’m glad folks are finding any of my writing. Truly, I am. But these are folks who, in general, come to read those two posts, and then take off again.
I hope that something else here at my blog interests my long-time readers. I do try to talk about a wide variety of things, from TV/film, to sports, to politics (though I’ve been doing less of that lately, as there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot to say except to double-down on previous stances), to current events (I’m so sickened by all of the shootings, and have no more words to say than that).
So, today I thought I’d talk about other TV shows that I’ve enjoyed besides Drop Dead Diva (which I loved, and still miss to this day). Ready?
I’m a huge Star Trek fan. Always have been. (It’s one reason why I found it too difficult to write about the pioneering Nichelle Nichols’ death. I also found it exceptionally difficult, in a different way, to write about Rene Auberjonois’s death.) A good friend recommended Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, which is a prequel to the original Star Trek series starring William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, DeForest Kelley, and the rest. It is excellent, and I can’t wait for season two to start this summer.
In fact, I loved that show so much, I went back to look at the second season of Star Trek: Discovery, which shows the previously unknown foster sister of Spock, Michael Burnham, as she rises in the ranks after a huge personal tragedy, because I wanted to know more about Anson Mount’s portrayal of Christopher Pike, plus see more of Ethan Peck’s version of Spock. I was pleasantly surprised with season two of Discovery, though I didn’t like season one all that much except for Michelle Yeoh’s performance as Mirror Universe Emperor Philippa Georgiou. (Goodness, she’s amazing. Best actress alive, anywhere. hands-down. There’s nothing she can’t do, and she somehow nails the essence of every character she plays within seconds. I am riveted by her.)
Paramount Plus has all sorts of stuff to watch, but so far I’ve been concentrating on the Star Trek shows. The original Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Voyager…and the show that ends tomorrow, Star Trek: Picard. (You may be asking, “What about Star Trek: Prodigy and Star Trek: Lower Decks?” I like both, but I kind of think I’m not the target audience for the first, while wanting the second to move faster…don’t ask me why, because that show moves with a rapidity as it stands.)
I’m someone who adored season two of Picard. I thought it was amazing. The depth of Patrick Stewart’s acting was truly stellar. I loved Allison Pill as Agnes Jurati (and eventually the Jurati/Borg hybrid). I enjoyed all of the characters so much, and did I point out yet that Michelle Hurd’s Raffi and Jeri Ryan’s Seven of Nine were phenomenal? (Please, Paramount, give those two their own series!)
But season three is even better. Picard is now much frailer; he’s retired completely, and at the beginning of the show, he’s preparing to leave Earth and move to another planet with his love, Laris. However, the universe needs him again, and off he goes…(I hope we see Laris again, as I loved Orla Brady. I keep saying that, too, but all of these characters are so good, and the acting so stellar, it’s hard not to gush about them all.)
I’ve been waiting for a few weeks now for the end of Star Trek: Picard. I hope to see Allison Pill again (surely the Paramount execs won’t be so rude as to refuse us to see her one, last time?), as there’s a huge evil Borg plot going on (and as the Borg of season two, once Agnes Jurati got a hold of them, had become much kinder/gentler, it would seem that as the crew of the Enterprise-D needs allies, Allison Pill’s “Borgrati” would show up as part of the cavalry. Hey, everyone needs allies! Really, they do. No one can do it alone, either, no matter how phenomenal you may be — that has to be the message, if you need one, of Star Trek: Picard, at least with regards to seasons two and three.)
Anyway, that’s what I felt like writing today, hoping that someone out there who’s a new reader will actually, you know, stick around a bit and figure out I write other things, too. (If you are exceptionally diligent, new readers, you can go to the About Barb page and find links to my three novels. That’s the best way to support me, you know; read my books! End shameless plug.)
Tuesday Insight: Love and Meanness Do Not Go Together
Folks, I’ve thought for a while about writing something on Tuesdays that would be more introspective — similar to what I often write on Sunday, except without as much of the spiritual element. Today’s blog is the result.
Recently, love has been on my mind.
This is not much of a surprise. There is an element of romance with nearly every story I write. Furthermore, my late husband Michael also wrote romance into many of his stories — though his romances were usually subtler than mine.
So, you might be asking yourself, “Barb, what brought this on today?”
It’s simple. I started thinking about how love should be patient, kind, honest, sincere — and completely without gratuitous meanness.
Tennessee Williams’ play A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE has a line spoken by Blanche (the main female lead) that goes like this: “Some things are unforgiveable. Deliberate cruelty is unforgiveable.”**
In other words, if someone is going out of their way to hurt you, they do not love you.
You may be wondering about someone who tries to make up for their utter rudeness and complete and total lack of respect. I can almost hear you say, “Isn’t that good enough that they apologize?”
It depends on the circumstances. If someone came home from work, needed to be alone for a half-hour (or however long), and said so, but their significant other gave them no space, then I might understand why someone was curt or to the point when it wasn’t necessary.
But rude? Outright nastiness just to hurt you?
No. That should not ever be tolerated, because that’s how people start to hate one another. Or at best, treat the other with contempt — contempt being possibly the worst thing that can enter a long-term relationship — as both of you pretend to still care, but actually don’t.
Yes, one of you in that scenario can still care, and often does, for that matter. But if you both aren’t in the marriage 100%; if you both aren’t pulling together at least 95% of the time; if you both aren’t trying to “fight fair,” and instead bring up old and dead topics again just to make the other person angry…well, if you are doing any of that, your marriage (or long-term relationship) is probably doomed.
You see, I’ve been there. (Not with my late husband, obviously. But with previous exes.) And while I’m glad those relationships ended, so I could marry Michael and know what love truly is all about, I went through a lot of pain and heartache to get there.
Anyway, what you must remember about love is that it truly should be patient, kind, trustworthy, and caring. Yes, everyone has disagreements, but a loving couple fights fairly and asks, “is this what you meant?” in as level of a tone of voice to make sure you’re understanding your spouse (or partner) if there’s any ambiguity about what the other person means.
So, a relationship that’s healthy and helps both you and your spouse (partner) to live a better, happier life needs cooperation, contemplation, sharing, kindness, honesty, a willingness to communicate even on (or especially because of) tough subjects, a rock-solid commitment to doing what you say you will and saying only what you will do, and much, much more.
What it should never contain is gratuitous, willful cruelty.
Now, I figured I’d also point out that most people want to believe the best of the person they’ve chosen to spend their life with. That’s fine, providing you are being honest with yourself when you do it.
In other words, if you would not want your best friend to be treated the way you’re being treated — or a sister, cousin, aunt, uncle, etc. — why are you putting up with it?
I do have a solution for you, though. It’s counseling. That will help you learn how to fight fair and treat each other the way you want to be treated. (If your partner refuses to go, please go alone.)
If you can’t afford counseling, pick up my friend Karl Ernst’s book ROCKING CHANGE: Changing the World Through Changing Ourselves. It’s eye-opening, refreshing, and different. (I know this, because I edited it.) Read his book, think about it, and then ask yourself why you are with a person who only seems to care about themself, rather than you, your kids (if you have any), your friends, or your job (in short, anything that matters to you besides them).
Karl’s book is about $10 at Amazon as an ebook. You may think this is a steep price, but I don’t. Compared to counseling — especially if you need it badly, and don’t have insurance — ROCKING CHANGE is downright cheap.
———–
**I was reminded of this idea after reading a Washington Post chat led by main advice columnist Carolyn Hax from May 6, 2022. (The WaPo is behind a paywall, so I don’t know if you’ll be able to see my link. But if you can, read the entire chat. It’s quite insightful.)