#79-Mumblecore

It was the decade when...

Filmmakers learned to speak fluent mumble.

Things you need to make movies:

1. Money 2. A script 3. A story 4. Dialogue. 5. Drama.

WRONG. For now we have Mumblecore, the most-buzzed about film genre no one has actually seen - this despite the pages of copy devoted to the movement in alt-weekly newspapers, classy intellectual magazines and film blogs. Indeed, the analysis of mumblecore was more interesting than its movies. A sub-species of the general trend toward quirk in indie films of the decade, the cinema of mumblecore lacked the silliness and gutsy absurdity of comic larks like Napoleon Dynamite, Juno or Eagle Vs. Shark. Mumblecore wasn't nicknamed "MySpace Neo-Realism" for nothing.

Usually made for the cost of a nice set of golf clubs or trip to Europe, mumblecore films make no attempt to look anything but homemade. So distant from the Southland it'd be hyperbolic to label these films anti-Hollywood (even if they're occasionally made there), the mumblecore movement instead set up camp at the South By Southwest Film Festival in Austin, each year putting forth a new iteration of their DIY formula, recycling the same themes so often that a new film genre formed when no one was looking.

And what is a mumblecore movie? Well, get a group of emotionally stunted, white, unglamourous 20-somethings together (preferably those without acting experience) for a weekend or two, invent some characters that mirror the actual people playing the roles, turn on the camera and...improvise! The result: a reflection of a generation adrift, unable to express any coherent thoughts to each other. They all seem like would-be hipsters who lack the initiative to actually cultivate the sensibility. All past rules of inter-personal connection having been annihilated by the 20th century and its sociological revolutions, there are no more mores and inventing new ones seems exhausting. Attempts at connection end in isolation. Life itself has all the definition of a mumble.

Being an out-to-sea 20-something has long been fodder for indie-film, but with mumblecore a shift occurred. Contrast the genre with the slacker films of a decade ago and their protagonists. In films like Clerks or Swingers or GO the characters were positively loquacious on the topics they felt confident in discussing; those being primarily fanboy pop-culture minutia, and the conquest of women. Conversly, on any topic, the inhabitants of mumblecore-ville can barely muster up a sentence that includes a verb, noun and object. Rarely has anomie been so banal.

A labyrinthine network of directors and actors, the mumblecorps (as they are affectionately known) are nothing if not insular. But with such insularity comes a specific artistic temperament, a movement, and whatever one might think of any particular mumblecore film, there is something to be said about the consistency of the genre's particular style and themeatic preoccupations. Something is resonating here. And many of the films are actually quite successfull in their modest way. Hannah Takes the Stairs is suprisingly structured given its improvisitory origins and Baghead proved that the "corps" could spoof themselves, all the while playing by the "core" rules.

With the age of privilege coming to an end (with it, the ability to do nothing with one's time-a staple of mumblecore) and the children of the 80's now hitting 30 and facing some of the real problems that life poses, the terminus of Mumblecore is no doubt upon us. Gross over-exposure by the media (links to all the articles on the net about mumblecore would take pages), especially in relation to the movement's actual popularity, only served to push the genre into cliche (see video below). But nonetheless, the films of mumblecore might still end up being the emblematic works that will, in decades hence, define this generations particular weltanschauung (or lack therof). But for now, the time has come to learn how to articulate.

You AUGHT to remember.

The Dirty Garage - watch more funny videos

#80-The "Stripey"

It was the decade when...

Striped dress shirts weren't just for barbershop quartets.

Ballad of the Striped Dress Shirt

It's 2005,

You see what cool dudes are wearing:

Fitted striped shirts,

In hues overbearing.

It's slimming too!

So, you'll want to stand tall,

And show off what's new

At Brooks Brothers this fall.

You live off red bull.

At a hedge fund you work.

In your new striped shirt

You wont look like a jerk.

Okay, it's tight,

But not like you're gay.

The shirt fits just right!

(In a metrosex way.)

It's a Big Date,

You want to impress.

You met this blonde at a club,

But you looked like a mess.

So you button it closed,

Put on Hummmer cologne.

The bitch is real hot and,

This dogs got a bone.

At Pastis you dine.

And though charm you are lacking,

In your shirt you seem fine.

You prepare for meat-packing.

Like a train it now hits you.

Every muscle you freeze.

For you spent all your money on

Your new striped chemise.

"You're a real douche.

So tacky!" she gripes.

And you're left alone.

You and your vertical stripes.

And so home again,

You jerk till you squirt.

And then you clean up

With your brand new striped shirt.

You AUGHT to remember.

#81-It's Britney Bitch!

It was the decade when...

Britney Spears was not so lucky.

Great moments in Speardom:

May 2000: Britney releases Oops...I Did It Again, scaling the highest peaks of pop superstardom. Clad in scarlet leather, Britney solidified her status as pop music's It girl. Sadly though, the album's title was prescient. She would spend much of the rest of the decade saying Oops!

Early 2002: Britney ends her relationship with fellow pop icon Justin Timberlake. She claims they were climbing "two different mountains." Her mountain being a whole-lot crazier.

February 15 2002: Britney tries her best to be a movie star, starring in the universally reviled gal-pal road trip fiasco Crossroads. The movie currently has a 15% rotten tomatoes ranking and garnered the actress a Golden Razzie, an award she shared that year with Madonna for her revelatory performance in Swept Away. At least Crossroads did better than Glitter. Since the Crossroads debacle Britney has shied away from the cinematic limelight. There has been no sequel talk. The world breathes a sigh of relief.

June 27, 2002: Britney officially becomes a New York restaurateur when she opens the crap-tastic NYLA, an abbreviation of New York and Louisiana (the pop star's home state). Serving such appetizing sounding dishes as southern sushi or the chocolate pyramid, the restaurant is lambasted by critics. Can't blame Britney though, seeing as she had never tried the food. She probably didn't know they were using tomatoes from old, dinted cans. Yes, it was horrible, closed quickly and left it's investors $400,000 in the hole, but it could have been worse. She could have been the chef.

August 28, 2003: Britney and Madonna lock lips at the VMA's. The clip is replayed ad nauseum. The press reacts as if Spears performed Cunnilingus on the pop legend in front of millions.

January 3, 2004: Either trying to break a Guinness world record or showing the first signs of mental disease, Britney reaffirmed the sanctity of marriage by getting hitched to her childhood pal Jason Allen Alexander in the early morning at a Vegas chapel only to have the wedding officially annulled 55 hours later. Sadly, this would be Britney's happy marriage.

September 18, 2004: Evidently not too heartbroken about the loss of Mr. Alexander, Britney married Kevin Federline, here and forever after referred to as K-Fed. Poorly groomed white trash dudes everywhere rejoice for now they too have the power to nab some pop-star poontang.

February 6, 2006: Photos emerge showing Britney teaching her baby how to drive. Two thoughts occur to America. 1. Britney = Trainwreck. 2. That baby is fucked.

Novemeber 7, 2006: Britney files for divorce from K-Fed. The world experiences the opposite of shock.

February 17, 2007: In the event that will go down as "the great shave," Spears removes all her hair at a small beauty salon in the San Fernando Valley. Some cynics say the new do was simply a ploy to avoid a drug test. Others of a more sympathetic cast suggest she was purging herself of negativity like a Buddhist Monk. Maybe she just thought Sinead O'Connor is all that and a bag of chips. One thing is certain: Britney was now officially and forever a punchline first, entertainer second. The look does not start a trend.

February 18-September 8, 2007: Britney continues to be a total fucking mess. America becomes exhausted.

September 9, 2007: A well-fed Britney opens the VMA's with a legendary performance. Watching the singer stumble through a poorly lip synched dance routine with all the enthusiasm of Karen Carpenter at a Chinese buffet is akin to rubber-necking a head-on collision. "Gimme More?" Um, I think you've had enough. One voice is raised in defense of the fallen pop star; he shouts and the world hears, "LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!"

October 1, 2007: Britney loses custody of her children. When K-Fed is the responsible option, America thinks again, "those kids are really fucked."

December 2007: In some celebrity variation of the Stockholm Syndrome Britney begins dating Adnan Ghalib, one of her paparazzi. Oy.

January 3 2008: Operation Spears! Refusing to relinquish her children to K-Fed's custody Britney spears locks herself up in her LA mansion like some sort of millionaire Branch Davidian. The cavalry is called in. Celebrity bloggers have collective orgasm. Britney is whisked away to Cedar-Senai for psychological evaluation. She has now become the world most famous head case since Sybil. There is an expression that captures this moment in a person's life and/or career: rock bottom.

September 15, 2008: Somehow boomeranging back from the depths where she had fallen, Britney's new single "Womanizer" reaches number one. Maybe the dark skies have lifted?

March 2009-Present Day: Britney's Circus tour is a smash success, selling out all over America. America waits and wonders "Can the drama really be behind us?" "What is Britney now? Survivor? Joke? Self-fulfilling media prophesy? Future Hollywood Square?"

I for one wash my hands of the whole thing. To paraphrase: BRITNEY, LEAVE US ALONE!

You AUGHT to remember.

#82-Same Sex Marriage

It was the decade when...

Gays got married. Then they got angry!

It is no small irony that Justice Scallia's stinging dissent in Lawrence V. Texas, the landmark Supreme Court court-case of 2003 that ruled the antiquated anti-sodomy laws still on the books in many states unconstitutional, provides the logical framework for same-sex marriage with ringing clarity. He writes:

Today's opinion dismantles the structure of constitutional law that has permitted a distinction to be made between heterosexual and homosexual unions, insofar as formal recognition in marriage is concerned. If moral disapprobation of homosexual conduct is "no legitimate state interest" for purposes of proscribing that conduct...what justification could there possibly be for denying the benefits of marriage to homosexual couples exercising "[t]he liberty protected by the Constitution," ibid.? Surely not the encouragement of procreation, since the sterile and the elderly are allowed to marry. This case "does not involve" the issue of homosexual marriage only if one entertains the belief that principle and logic have nothing to do with the decisions of this Court. Many will hope that, as the Court comfortingly assures us, this is so.

This from a man who quotes Cole Porter Lyrics in official Supreme Court decisions. But Scalia's fears were not unfounded. The Lawrence V. Texas decision, announced the week of gay pride in a serendipitous coincidence, was the first domino to fall in a decade that saw a cascade of progress for gay civil rights, most importantly and most famously, the right to marry.

In 2001 The Netherlands (of course) were the first nation in the world to recognize same-sex marriage. In 2003 Ontario followed suit, with Canada granting universal marriage rights to all citizens in 2005. By the end of the decade seven different countries (including South Africa!) have full legal marriage for same-sex couples. Many others have newly enacted civil union laws. And in America, after the shackles of legal and institutionalized homophobia were loosened with Lawrence, same-sex marriage became, just as Scalia predicted, not a lofty dream but a logical necessity and social inevitability. Within six months of the Lawrence decision the ice had thawed enough to allow for the Supreme Court of Massachusetts to demand the that Bay State offer the same marriage license to all its inhabitants, gay or straight. In the culture war equivalent of the sinking of the Lusitania, the Massachusetts ruling promised a battle over gay marriage that would last years if not decades.

In another ironic twist for the Scalias of the world, the mass of media coverage on same-sex marriage, fueled by the right's hysterical response to the nuptials, only made gay people look more sympathetic. Here were women in white dresses, and men in tuxes, often with children in tow, kissing on city hall steps and sharing wedding cake. Weddings like any other. The wholesomeness of the images was almost comic. And yet, the defenders of traditional marriage keep repeating, ad naseum, as they attempted to enshrine discrimination into the U.S. Constitution, that these marriages were a "threat" to the very fabric of society. Sugar, I think homos know a thing or two about fabric.

For sheer drama nothing could compare to the all-out clusterfuck that was Proposition 8, the Gettysburg of the same-sex marriage battles. After the Supreme Court of California legalized same-sex marriage in May of 2008, the second State in America to do so, it was inevitable that the largest state in the Union would, through the mechanism of its "dysfunctional" ballot measure system, put the question of gay marriage to a public vote. Battle lines were drawn and each side mobilized to win what became the most expensive ballot measure in history. When Prop 8 passed, writing discrimination into the constitution of the State of California with a simple majority vote, a sleeping giant was awoken - the gay community was ready to bust out a big can of whoop-ass. Spontaneous protests erupted all over CA (and elsewhere), the shock of the loss shaking formerly complacent homos into action. The Mormon Church proved an effective locus for anger and complaint when it was revealed that the church and its followers had been the biggest donors to the winning side.

All sorts of mini-dramas popped into existence. When it was discovered that the owner of gay hotspot El Coyote in Los Angeles was a Mormon and Yes on 8 donor, an impromptu boycott threatened to close the doors on this longtime LA eatery. A hastily arranged press conference ended in shouting and tears; you can watch the whole thing, if you can stomach it. The skirmish got some press attention but it was a trite kerfuffle compared to the outrage over Scott Eckern, the Artistic Director of California Musical Theatre in Sacramento. Not only biting the hand that feeds him but swallowing it whole and then informing his victim how delightful his thumb tasted, Eckern, a Mormon (natch!), contributed $1000 to the Yes On 8 campaign, a fact that once discovered caused no small uproar in the Broadway community. Calls for his resignation came quickly: Susan Egan, Belle herself, circulated a damning letter about Eckern to her theatrical address book, and the word spread fast; soon Broadway composer Marc Shaiman was threatening to deny the company all future rights to his shows as long as Eckern remained at the helm. He resigned less than a week after election day. With that much anger in the air, someone's head had to roll.

Though homos had lost the battle on Prop 8, it became clear, with Connecticut, Iowa, Vermont (through legislative means no less), New Hampshire and Maine all legalizing same-sex marriage in rapid succession, that the opposition was losing the war. And, as more and more gays get married with society staying mysteriously still intact, the forces of discrimination and bigotry (and bad fashion) will lack any and all ammunition to combat the inevitable tide of history. And if this blog post has been more serious than most, less pithy in tone and even, god help us all, a little treacly, well, so be it. There are some things about this decade that we can feel proud about. There are some things we really ought to remember.

You AUGHT to remember.

"Prop 8 - The Musical" starring Jack Black, John C. Reilly, and many more... from Jack Black

#83-Queer Eye for the Straight Guy

It was the decade when...

Television audiences learned that gay men know how to dress, style hair, cook, decorate and, well, culture.

Straight men are disgusting. We knew that right? They're slobs, they eat cold day(s?) old pizza from boxes strewn about their unkempt bachelor pads; dwellings which receive too much sunlight in the afternoon because these hetero guys have, gasp!, forgotten to do a proper window treatment. They never would refer to anything they put in their hair as "product" (at the very least not without adding a definite or indefinite article), they wear the same boxer shorts for days at a time, as they do their faded baggy Levi jeans, and they can't spell - let alone cook -mirepoix. Hair is everywhere and I mean, everywhere! No books around to speak of, but some DVD's of Aqua Teen Hunger Force and Underworld:Evolution are laying about. How do they inject culture in their lives? Does Maxim count? Essentially, straight men are useless save for repopulating the species and scientists are working on fixing even that.

But gay men. That's a whole different story. Gay men live in meticulously neat urban apartments with beautiful track lighting modules on dimmer switches. They use words like "pomade" and "exfoliate" without batting an eyelash- about the only time they don't bat an eyelash as a matter of fact. Never hirsute, the gay man prides himself on proper "manscaping"to keep his pilosity in check. Gays throw elaborate dinner parties where, after a round or two of a divine vintage cocktail, a sumptuously prepared three-course meal is served on immaculately white china. "The vegetables were bought at the Farmer's Market this morning. I wouldn't make a mirepoix any other way," they inform their guests while wearing a slim fitting dress shirt and designer jeans which they purchased at a denim "bar." Ikea shelves are filled with art exhibit books, Herb Ritts photo anthologies, the newest release by a lefty New York Times Op-Ed writer, some Architectural Digests, a Thomas Keller cookbook, and maybe some Foccault (if they went to an ivy-league school). On their coffee table, right next to the New Yorker, are the Playbills of shows they attended this week, Clearly, on the culture, dining, grooming, fashion, and design front...gays have got things covered.

If only there was something gays could to do to help these poor tasteless men add some class to their jejune existence.

And then came the Fab Five. A Deus Ex Machina for style-deprived straight men everywhere, they appear as if from a cloud -like Mary Poppins!-whooshing themselves into a straight man's life to sprinkle their very-fairy dust everywhere they turn, usually with a pithy aside at the same time. As the zingers fly like arrows at some Benetton costumed Agincourt, the straight man hangs his head in shame as the whole of his life gets, usually literally, turned upside down. But he goes with the flow, knowing it's all for the best; in fact, it's his only hope to escape his plight. Sure he has a thought or two of reservation running around his head, like, "Does Carson really have to keep referring to my couture, because I have no idea what that is and I've never had a doctor look into it. He also keeps threatening me with my wire hangers and then laughing hysterically; what's that about?" Or, "Why does Kyan keep looking at me like I'm the whipped cream on his dessert course? Did he really have to giggle in my face when I admitted I've never had my ass waxed? And why are there no straight men named Kyan, anyway? And who is this Jai person again? Does he know what he's doing here?" But, selfless and desperate...the straight guy takes it all in stride. As the humiliations continue, - first with Carson at the designer "boutique" where he tries on shirts the colors of which he can't pronounce, then with Kyan at a beauty parlor/spa where the stylist Fabian cuts off all the hair he's spent 5 years growing out for his rock band (it needed to be "layered," they tell him), and lastly with Jai at the ice skating rink where it is revealed to the straight guy that figure skating is going to be the key to igniting his creativity - he sucks up all his pride and does what the queers say.

When he returns home to gear up for the party that has been planned for him by the producers of the show in order to facilitate a sense of drama, he finds an apartment transformed. Where once was a beaten hand-me down couch and torn bean bag is now a beautiful three piece sofa and ottoman set. The Bob Marley Poster attached to the wall with duct tape has been removed and in it's place are beautiful framed vintage rock and roll posters. The windows now have curtains, and there is a lamp in the room. The fluorescents have disappeared. Ah, the straight man could have never done this himself. It takes just too much style (and $20,000 but that's neither here not there...right?). Ted shows the straight guy (mouth still agape from the new decor) the refrigerator, now stocked to overflow with fresh fruits, vegetables, even organic wild lox-"from Zabar's" Ted mentions. "Strange how these guys keep mentioning brand names aloud." thinks the straight guy, but the thought passes. Finally, Ted reminds him of the recipe he is supposed to prepare for the big coming-out, I mean, party that evening. And then, the Fab Five, their work done, fly away as quickly as they came, leaving behind a changed and newly manicured man who will never be able to repay the debt. They retreat to their loft apartment in the sky (or maybe it's in Chelsea) where on closed circuit television, with Cosmo in hand and sass to spare, the Fab Five watch their little Frankenstraight take his first baby steps into the brave new world of Crudité, nose-hair trimmers, settees, V-Neck Sweaters, and, whatever it is that Jai does. They sit attentively with one hand cradling their chin, as the straight guy gets misty eyed and thanks the Fab Five for giving him a new lease on life and making him realize that to change someone inside it's really most important to change your outside first. Kyan, staring again at his whipped cream, says intensely "I'm proud of you Bro." "Cheers Queers!" shouts Carson, lifting his libation. The glasses clink together and all is right with the universe. Another straight man saved. All things just keep getting better.

You AUGHT to remember.

#84-Stupid Beauty Queens

It was the decade when...

Beauty pageant contestants were even more idiotic than usual.

Let's play match the question to the answer to the contestant!

1.) "Do you think the US should have universal healthcare as a right of citizenship why or why not?"

2.) “Recent polls have shown that a fifth of Americans can’t locate the US on a world map. Why do you think this is?”

3.)“Vermont recently became the 4th state to legalize same-sex marriage. Do you think every state should follow suit? Why or why not?"

4) "Why isn’t it better to spend $700 billion helping middle-class families struggling with health care, housing, gas and groceries? Allow them to spend more and put more money into the economy? Instead of helping these big financial institutions that played a role in creating this mess?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A) "You know I think this is an issue of integrity regardless of which end of the political spectrum that I stand on. I've been raised in my family to know right from wrong and politics whether or not you fall in the middle, the left or the right it's an issue of integrity whatever your opinion is and I say that with the utmost conviction."

B) “Well I think its great that Americans are able to choose one or the other. We live in a land where you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage. And you know what, in my country, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman. No offense to anybody out there, but that’s how I was raised and that’s how I think it should be between a man and a woman. Thank you very much.”

C) That's why I say I, like every American I'm speaking with, we're ill about this position that we have been put in where it is the taxpayers looking to bail out. But ultimately, what the bailout does is help those who are concerned about the health care reform that is needed to help shore up our economy. Um, helping, oh, it's got to be all about job creation, too, shoring up our economy and putting it back on the right track. So health care reform and reducing taxes and reining in spending has got to accompany tax reductions, and tax relief for Americans, and trade — we have, we've got to see trade as opportunity, not as competitive, um, scary thing, but one in five jobs created in the trade sector today. We've got to look at that as more opportunity. All of those things under the umbrella of job creation, this bailout is a part of that.

D) ) “I personally believe, that U.S. Americans,
are unable to do so,
because uh,
some, people out there, in our nation don’t have maps.
and uh…
I believe that our education like such as in South Africa,
and the Iraq,
everywhere like such as…
and, I believe they should uh,
our education over here,
in the U.S. should help the U.S.
or should help South Africa,
and should help the Iraq and Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future,
for us.”

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Xi) Miss Arizona (2009)

Xii) Miss California (2009)

Xiii)Miss South Carolina (2007)

Xiv)Miss Alaska (1984)

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Answer: 1-A-xi, 2-D-xiii, 3-B-Xii, 4-C-Xiv

You AUGHT to remember...

#85 - Designer Dogs

It was the decade when...

We played mad scientist with our pets.

And now, for a quick lesson in canine arithmetic:

Pug+Beagle=Puggle

Labrador+Poodle=Labradoodle

Chihuahua+Pug=Chug

Maltese+Poodle=Maltipoo

Chihuahua+Dachsund=Chihuachsund (aka Chiweenie)

Pekinese+Poodle=Peekapoo

Cocker Spaniel+Poodle=Cockapoo

Saint Bernard+Chihuahua=One ugly fucking dog

Lhasa Apso+Shih Tzu=The gayest dog of all time

Great Dane+Huskie=Grizzly Bear

Person who wants to buy a dog because they like the cute name+Unscrupulous dog breeder=Total Sucker.

You AUGHT to remember.