Treblezine: Underrated Blog-a-Thon Late Entry

At this point, I’ve not only abandoned my blog for nearly three months, I’ve also missed the deadline for my friend Jamie’s “Underrated Blog-a-Thon.” But, I was so intrigued by the idea, I just couldn’t resist. At first, I could not choose my subject. I write about music on a regular basis, having already championed many underrated albums. Almost every book I truly love could be considered underrated, and I couldn’t decide on any one film. So, I thought I’d try to look elsewhere. Maybe I could write about an underrated baseball player. But, other than giving some stats, a personal anecdote or two, and merely saying they’re underrated, I had nothing. But then it came to me.

In the brainstorming process of all things ‘underrated,’ I tried to recall the things I truly regret not having reached a wider audience. In doing so, I realized there was only one subject I could choose. Treblezine. Self serving? Sure. A little egomaniacal? Maybe, but not really. I realize that a lot of you may have no idea what I’m talking about, so I’ll start with a little background history.

Over five years ago, the fall of 2003 to be slightly more precise, my youngest brother, Jeff, called me. He was in San Diego and I had just moved to Seattle. Jeff had just graduated from San Diego State, where he was the entertainment editor for the Daily Aztec newspaper, and now out of school, wanted to embark on a new endeavor. On the phone, he asked me if I wanted to start an online music magazine. There was no hesitation. I was in. I, myself, had been looking for a writing outlet, and was still obsessed by new music. There was no way I could say no. But what began that fall has been a journey I wouldn’t trade for anything.

We seemingly knew exactly what we wanted for Treblezine from the very beginning. (Let me just insert here that Jeff is the true talent behind Treble. It was his brainchild. He is the managing editor. He writes the lion’s share of the reviews. He organizes the submissions for review, the writing assignments and practically everything else. There are a few things I can point to as mine, namely specific columns and features I created, but for the most part, when I say ‘we’ when talking about Treble, I’m mostly talking about Jeff. I thought you ought to know. I should also at this point give many many thanks to Matt, yet another Terich brother, who designed the site and made it so darn pretty and user friendly.)

We knew we wanted the standard format of posting daily reviews. We knew it wasn’t a blog, like this one, but instead an actual commercial magazine to be taken seriously in critical circles and in the marketplace. In fact, you may be surprised to know that Jeff’s original concept was to eventually turn the webzine into a print magazine. We knew we wanted to do regular features and columns, items that would keep loyal readers coming back. Those have certainly changed along the way, some have stayed, and we’ve introduced some that have since become favorites, but the concept was solid from the beginning. To me, and I think I speak for Jeff as well, the most important aspects of Treblezine were the writing and the lack of number ratings.

There is no denying that Pitchfork is the grandfather of all indie music webzines. But, I think the biggest reason for their early success is not necessarily that they were the best, it’s that they were the first. The same can be said for a lot of internet enterprises such as Amazon and eBay. The resulting pressures of staying on top, with the addition of sudden income with which to fund the process, tend to fuel further progress. And thus, Pitchfork has produced some amazing writers over the years. The shame of it all is that thousands upon thousands of Pitchfork’s ‘loyal readers’ do quick hit and runs on the album reviews, merely looking at the number rating and then abruptly leaving. Jeff and I found that absurd. First of all, number ratings are completely arbitrary. (And I must say at this point that I’ve already addressed this concept in a review for Tetuzi Akiyama’s Pre-Existence, which was subsequently used for Treble’s “About” page.) So, I won’t go into the absurdity of comparing a Jay-Z album with, say, a Nick Cave album, which inadvertently happens when you give each a specific number rating. Anyway, the other idea behind the lack of number rating was that we wanted to avoid the hit and run. We wanted people to actually read what we had spent a good deal of time writing. After all, when you’re trying to find more about a particular album of interest, would you rather read or hear an in-depth analysis, including comparisons, impressions, and personal anecdotes, or would you rather simply see that it was given a 7.2?

I’m selfishly calling Treble ‘underrated’ because of our traffic in relation to other sites of this ilk. A lot of this is our own fault. None of us are marketing geniuses. We don’t know how better to reach indie music fans. We’ve made tremendous strides over the five plus years of Treble’s existence. In fact, we’ve had readers all over the world. We’ve had strong growth in readership. We’ve also found a great deal of our wonderful writers by simply existing. Jeff and I put a lot into Treblezine. (Emphasis on the Jeff). We put our hearts and souls into it. We make no money from Treble. Sure, we have great partnerships with Insound, iTunes and we at last have some advertisers, but I’d venture to say that the income from said sources doesn’t even cover the costs of site hosting and the postage it takes to mail CD’s to our writers all over the world. We’d love it if more people read it, for sure. We’d really love to make a living doing this. However, regardless of our numbers, and regardless of a lack of profit, we continue to create Treble. Why? Because we have a passion for music that cannot be contained. Music fuels us. And I’d like to think that it shows in our writing.

After five years, you’d think that maybe we’d become jaded about the music industry. There is certainly an element of that in our lives. But I won’t turn this into a diatribe on the industry. I’ll simply say that music has overwhelming capacity to astonish. No matter how many derivative albums we might hear in succession, there is always a brilliant light at the end of the tunnel, and that light is so overwhelming, we don’t even care if it’s a train. Case in point, the new Decemberists album.

But, to get back on track, this is a plea. If you love music, or have a friend who loves music, we simply ask that you tell them about our site. We’re quite proud of it. We feel that the past five years have only made it better. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what we could do with it if we could work on it full time. Ah, perchance to dream.

The Joy (and Pain) of Fardo

It is not, as some might guess, the name of a hobbit. Nor is it the given title of a piece of Ikea furniture. In fact, most of you have probably witnessed it in your everyday lives. And still more of you probably tune in to watch it on television every week. What am I talking about? I’m talking about fardo. Fardo is a fairly recent term that represents the feeling of extreme discomfort and embarrassment for those who do not experience those feelings for themselves. It’s amazing that there’s even a word for this awkward feeling. I am reminded of when I heard the term schadenfreude (the feeling of joy at the expense of another’s pain). Yet, as uncomfortable as fardo sounds, it is big business in comedy.

The most obvious examples of fardo exist in Seinfeld. It’s most definitely not the start of fardo, it just maximized its effect. Every single one of the four cast members was amazingly oblivious to his or her foibles. Every once in a blue moon they would realize how deep a hole they had dug, but it still wouldn’t stop them from shoveling extra dirt over their heads. I was never a big fan of Seinfeld. Sure, it would occasionally make me laugh, and had some good comedic premises, but I would just become infuriated with the characters and their horrific choices, especially George. This is also why I couldn’t stand Meet the Parents, even though I normally find Ben Stiller quite funny. It was a film that was a series of several bad choices, one after the other.

Despite my dislike of fardo, there is one instance in which I find myself drawn like moth to flame. The Office features one of the most blatant inciters of fardo ever in Michael Scott. I love watching The Office. In fact, I’ve rewatched the entire four and a half seasons multiple times. And yet, there are episodes so loaded with fardo that I find myself cringing. Sometimes, Michael Scott’s ineptitude, bluntness and low self-esteem make for very funny situations, but sometimes it’s just plain painful. One example is the Christmas episode, “Christmas Party,” in which Michael exceeds the Secret Santa dollar limit to impress Ryan, then gets vocally upset over his gift from Phyllis, a homemade potholder, resulting in his choice to institute ‘Yankee Swap,’ in which everyone gets to steal each others’ gifts. He makes a disaster of the whole thing, even ending up personally dissatisfied at the results, and seems completely unaware of the hurt feelings of others.

So, you can see that I’m conflicted over the idea of fardo. The character of Dwight is also usually in the dark about his own ridiculousness, but he is such a caricature that it’s easier to handle. He also has no real power and thus his mistakes are somewhat neutralized. However, Michael Scott, in a position of management over every other character, can often make me, as a viewer, quite uncomfortable, recalling my own experiences with inept management. Many viewers of the Office most likely identify with the real life parallels of their own work experiences, but in reality, these situations are not funny, they are incredibly frustrating and often damaging. So, on one hand, it’s therapeutic to be able to laugh at this kind of zaniness, but on the other, it can be painful to relive these situations. There is only one instance I can think of in which a character actually acts in an expected manner with Michael Scott, and that’s when Stanley loses it with Michael in the episode, “Did I Stutter?” Everyone else, including the HR representative, who would have probably had Michael fired years ago in real life, and his direct supervisors, seem to just let things go with uncomfortable stares and stammers, and there is never any real consequence. Hell, there’s even a blog created by an actual Human Resources employee, who writes about the events in the show, and how Michael’s actions would get him into trouble again and again.

The above might be taking it too far. It is, after all, just a comedic television show. It’s supposed to be over the top and exaggerated, thus the funny. But The Office can alternately make me laugh out loud and cringe. I don’t know if I can explain why I find some fardo unfunny and unwatchable (i.e. Seinfeld) and some hilarious (i.e The Office), but embarrassment and humor is a delicate balance. Maybe it’s the likeability of Steve Carell. Then again, maybe I’m not meant to understand. Maybe I should just lie back and enjoy it. That’s what she said.

John Doe & Rorschach: BFF's

I’ve watched Seven three times in the past two days. (Does that make it 21 times?) Yes, this is a bit extreme, and slightly disturbing. But, it’s not quite what you think. I watched it straight through the first time, then with one of the four commentaries (Brad Pitt, Morgan Freeman, David Fincher), then with another commentary (Andrew Kevin Walker, Richard Dyer, Richard Francis-Bruce and Michael De Luca). Nearly every time I prepare to watch Seven, I have at that point forgotten just how great a movie it is. And, with this viewing, I was compelled to continue my exploration of the film by learning more about it. But I’m not going to recreate or duplicate the insight found on the DVD’s. For that, you should actually own a copy. Instead, I’d like to share my thoughts on some parallels I found between Seven and a certain popular graphic novel that is soon to be a film itself.

At a certain point in the “story” commentary, Andrew Kevin Walker casually mentions that he was living in New York, writing the screenplay and reading Watchmen, but this aside is more than just a casual name-drop or mention of reading habits. Instead, it becomes one of the most informing anecdotes on the writing of the film.

First of all, this shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Watchmen is one of the most influential pieces of fiction ever produced, causing ripples of influence upon anything it touches. Different elements of the complex and disparate storylines that interweave to make Watchmen have been cut up, dissected and copied / homaged in other projects. The television show Heroes used the idea of an acceptable sacrifice to save the world. In fact, Heroes didn’t even bother to use any kind of subterfuge in its homage by using the same exact percentage number of acceptable losses to save the world as a whole. Lost, a television show that does tend to do a better job in masking its influences, albeit only slightly, has dozens up on dozens of nods to Watchmen, to the point where there’s an entire page of parallels on Lostpedia. Hell, even the animated film, The Incredibles, takes its concept of a world where superheroes are banned / in hiding from Watchmen. In other words, borrowing from one of the richest pieces of fiction in history is par for the course.

Where Seven lifts from Watchmen is in its central antagonist, the enigmatic John Doe. He is, in essence, Rorschach (though he also has a bit of Ozymandias in him). The parallels are numerous. Both consider themselves on a higher moral plane, willing to subvert criminal law to justify their own ends and means. Both mete out vigilante ‘justice’ to uphold their own moral code. Rorschach and John Doe believe in moral absolutes. Rorschach’s morals are right wing extremist, and Doe bases his morals on the ‘Seven Deadly Sins,’ a code that Doe observes, correctly, is broken every day. (And this was before all the “Powered by Pride” stickers on pickup trucks everywhere).

Both seek anonymity. John Doe is, as Detective Somerset remarks, ‘John Doe by choice.’ He named himself, cuts off the tips of his own fingers to avoid fingerprinting, pays everything in cash, and essentially lives a quiet, Spartan lifestyle. Rorschach (aka Walter Kovacs), lives an incredibly similar lifestyle, alienating himself from the world, keeping a low profile, avoiding interaction, and even sporting a mask that never appears the same way twice, its trademark inkblots continually moving and shifting.

John Doe’s past is never mentioned in the film, though there are allusions and theories made by the detectives in the film. These theories match up with the past given to Kovacs, a disturbing childhood filled with humiliations, degradations, abuse and constant exposure to people in his environment breaking what would eventually be his moral code.

Though we may not be meant to sympathize completely with each character, we are meant to identify on some level. Rorschach is a vigilante hero, working outside the law to catch criminals and dole out his own form of violent justice. Ever since Batman, a direct response to the seemingly flawless and impervious do-gooder superheroes like Superman, comic book heroes have been doing this for decades, and those characters always seem the most popular. Batman, Wolverine, Deadpool, etc. These are the ‘heroes’ that garner the biggest followings. And while John Doe’s actions are horrific, we are meant to witness the last full conversation between Doe and the two detectives as a dialogue in which every point of view is valid and identifiable. Detective Mills’ simplistic view of the world sees Doe as insane, and that is an easy, surface way to look at the character. Somerset tries to speak to Doe on his level, trying to find chinks in the armor of moral absolutes by pointing out that martyrdom should exclude enjoyment. Somerset sees shades of grey and intellectual complexities where Mills sees black and white and mental imbalance. In that way, Mills and Somerset are actually seeing two sides of who John Doe really is, without ever putting the two together for a complete picture. In fact, Doe is portrayed as an intelligent foil to the character of Mills, who often shows his lack of smarts by mispronouncing names of important literary figures (“The Marquis de Sharday”) and reading Cliffs Notes instead of the actual books recommended by Somerset. Unlike many other fictional villains, the trail to Doe is found by use of the public library. Mills dismisses his intelligence as insanity when he says, “He’s a nut-bag! Just because the fucker’s got a library card doesn’t make him Yoda.”

We are, in fact, also meant to identify with John Doe. His speech about seeing the Deadly Sins broken every day is, while clearly incensed and motivated by that righteous moral absolutism, filled with observational truths. I, myself, have had a difficult time reconciling the hypocrisies of those who supposedly follow the Christian code of the Ten Commandments and continually break the Seven Deadly Sins. But, that would get me off on a tangent, so I’ll merely come back to the fact that, while stated with a certain amount of mania, John Doe’s point of view is meant to be understood and accepted. The difference between us, as law-abiding citizens, and John Doe (and Rorschach), is that while we may identify with these feelings of disgust and moral revulsion, we do not take the leap to act upon these feelings.

John Doe and Rorschach (and Ozymandias), do take the leap to act upon their moral outrages, and do so in an incredibly questionable fashion that breaks other laws and codes, civil, criminal, moral or otherwise. John Doe’s master plan is Machiavellian in nature and quite ingenious. So, too, is the plan of Ozymandias in Watchmen. They both feel as though their own individual grand schemes will change the world. John Doe states, “I’m not special. I’ve never been extraordinary. This is, though. What I’m doing.” Ozymandias states, “I saved earth from hell. Next, I’ll help her towards utopia.” While the latter statement is more grandiose, each anti-hero sees their work as important, and possibly leading toward a more utopian future, in terms of their own moral visions.

Finally, there is an odd bit of homage in the business of dead dogs. After Kovacs is arrested, he is shown, ironically, inkblot tests. One reminds him of a dog with its head split open. The therapist asks how the dog’s head got that way. Kovacs replies that he did it. At the end of Seven, after Doe is arrested, he leads Mills and Somerset to a remote location. There, they find a dead dog. Doe quickly responds meekly, “I didn’t do that.”

Though Andrew Kevin Walker throws out his Watchmen aside casually, there is nothing casual about the relationships between his movie Seven, and the iconic graphic novel by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons. Specifically, we can see there are many parallels between the dangerous enigmatic vigilante characters of John Doe and Rorschach. The final thing I want to mention is that, in listening to the commentaries, I can’t believe that the producers and studio wanted this film to be changed in such drastic ways. This film, like Watchmen, is filled with complexity, darkness, is a mirror to society, and shines a harsh light on reality in all its ugliness. One producer in particular, an idiot in my opinion, remarked that Fincher turned a perfectly good cop picture into a foreign film.
Thank goodness he did.

The Price of Nostalgia, Part Deux

This is simply the proof that I was Speed Racer some years ago. So, the second price of nostalgia is self-humiliation. I will spare my brother the picture of the two of us together, with him wearing a pumpkin costume. Poor little dude....

The Price of Nostalgia

In less than a week, fans will be lining up around city blocks to see the man with the whip back in action. However, part of the problem is that the man with the whip, Indiana Jones, just got his AARP card. Likewise, Speed Racer is currently raking in some money at theaters with a live action film, sort of. Nostalgia based films are nothing new to the movie market, this is for sure, but something about this year’s crop has me more agitated than most. Of course, it may just be the motion picture industry we’re saddled with right now more than any particular year’s worth of films. But now I’m just splitting hairs.

Something hasn’t set right with me since I heard that a fourth Indiana Jones movie was going into production. Harrison Ford was already well into his sixties and the idea of bringing back a beloved film icon well past his prime for an action film was laughable. Sure, there was a part of me that was a little excited, as I love the character and the first three films. But then I began to hear details about the production.

The first thing that had me worried was that George Lucas hadn’t written a sequel in eighteen years because of a lack of ideas. A lack of ideas over that long of a drought means that it should probably have been left alone, like the Ark of the Covenant. Sure, the thing has the power of nostalgia, but it will ultimately destroy anyone who dares open it and retrieve its history. But, when Lucas finally did come up with a story, it was something akin to “Indiana Jones and the Flying Saucers,” or “…the Saucer Men from Mars.” Seriously. As part of a three-headed hydra with veto power, Harrison Ford and / or Spielberg nixed that idea and the production went on hiatus.

Cooler heads didn’t apparently ultimately prevail as the project went through multiple writers without success including four very capable writers in Frank Darabont, Stephen Gaghan, Tom Stoppard (no less) and M. Night Shyamalan, the latter of which couldn’t even finish a treatment as he couldn’t get the Trio to focus on what they wanted. (And it’s beginning to look like Kevin Smith’s tales of Hollywood idiocy aren’t so far fetched.) They ended up with David Koepp, a writer with some success whose flops can be overlooked for writing Panic Room and Spider-Man.

However, some of that alien element, reportedly, still survives the plotline. Ugh. Hasn’t the X-Files overmined this particular claim? (Speaking of which, there’s a new X-Files movie coming out later this year as well) Even with a script, we then get back to the still increasing problem of Indy’s age. To combat this, the Trio decided that the method of storytelling be less a 30’s serial form (which worked incredibly well for the first three films), and instead take cues from 50’s B-movies, as that was when the film would be set. Now, the Indy films never took themselves too seriously, but they also never became camp. I can’t believe this was ever approved.

To make matters worse, Spielberg demanded that Shia LeBeouf fill the role of the young man who could or could not be Indy’s son, as he reminded the ‘golden glow’ director of a young Tom Hanks. Apologies to any Tom Hanks fans out there, but that’s not exactly what Hollywood needs. Besides, LeBeouf already got in his nostalgia licks with the appallingly bad Transformers, of which there will be two sequels. Yay.

In a recent interview with Entertainment Weekly, Lucas predicted a massive fan backlash against the film. Whether it was because of most of the above problems or simply his experience in making the Star Wars prequels remains to be seen. It can be said, however, that a movie hasn’t had this much anticipation, this much marketing, including a tie-in novel written by an established writer, a comic book adaptation and several licensing deals, since The Phantom Menace. And we all remember how that one turned out. I haven’t seen this film, I’m not a Hollywood insider or rabid fanboy who finds a way to sneak into a preview screening. I’m simply a guy who grew up watching the Indiana Jones movies and despair for this new film.

But, not all others are like me. In fact, most of the population is probably the polar opposite. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull will be one of the biggest money making movies this year as people will line up for hours, possibly even days outside theaters. Hell, people will probably even dress up, just like they did for Star Wars. But my nostalgia meter works differently than most. Rather than become excited, I grow wary. My defenses go up. I’ve been burned too many times. As such, I will not go out and see this movie. I’m sure it’s going to be terrible. I’m sure I’m going to be disappointed. In Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indy’s friend Sallah expresses his concerns over the Ark thusly, “If it is there, at Tanis, then it is something that man was not meant to disturb. Death has always surrounded it. It is not of this earth.” The same can be said for the Indy franchise. It is far away one of the best series of movies ever made. They had action, humor, suspense, great dialogue and a sense of history and style. But if 18 years have gone by, without any real ideas to speak of to unearth the franchise, then it should be left alone. Spielberg and Lucas better hope their heads don’t melt.

On a final note about nostalgia, in this ever-increasing market of nostalgia based properties (i.e. Transformers, Speed Racer, G.I. Joe, not to mention the recent crapfest of old TV adaptations, such as Dukes of Hazzard and Miami Vice) there seems to be fewer and fewer original stories on film. Or, maybe it’s always been like this and I’m just hypersensitive to it right now because of the possible upcoming desecration of a beloved character’s adventures. But nostalgia is not reason enough alone to exploit the past. There must be something else, a story of substance with something new to tell. Otherwise, what’s the point? I dressed up as Speed Racer for Halloween when I was six years old, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to plunk down ten bucks to see it in theaters as a 36 year old. Go go go? No no no.

Television: The Wire

I heard an NPR interview with Ira Glass sometime over the last year that caught my attention. You read that correctly, it wasn't Glass' own public radio show, This American Life. Instead, he was doing the publicity circuit for his new 'television' show of the same title. As any interviewer might ask, this one wondered if Glass, a radio man, was somewhat apprehensive and derisive about the landscape of television. Glass responded with something that resonated with me, and something with which I wholeheartedly agree. He said that television is going through a new 'Golden Age.' To paraphrase, he says that as viewership declines for particular stand-by ideas due to either lack of interest or a wider variety of programming, those who create television are forced to stretch their comfort zones and come up with something fresh. Coincidentally, this is what I've thought about the music scene lately, as well. With more and more independent labels, and multiple instantaneous ways to have music heard, it is taking a very special kind of band to break out.

Anyway, this kind of televised creativity has been going on at HBO for quite a few years now. This decade, HBO has spawned some of the best programming in television history with Six Feet Under, Deadwood, The Sopranos, Carnivale, Rome, In Treatment and Band of Brothers. I don't know how I passed over The Wire. Maybe it was the glut of police procedurals on the networks with umpteen Law & Order spinoffs and CSI's to make you S-I-C-K. But, eventually, I was convinced by my brother to watch the show. In years past I've called various and sundry programs 'the best show on television.' Well, guess what, the series may have ended, but The Wire is the best show (formerly) on television.

Created by David Simon, The Wire is less a police procedural than a visual novel about Baltimore and the world of crime that envelops the city. In season one, we are introduced to Detective Jimmy McNulty, who becomes the central figure within the world of the Baltimore police. Through him, and his many screw-ups within the department, we meet the rest of the law enforcement team that become the Major Case Unit, attempting to overhear, in any way they can, incriminating evidence on the massive drug trade. In that same first season, we meet the Barksdale crew. Avon Barksdale, his nephew D'Angelo, second in command Stringer Bell and other various characters within the organization all made for worthy foils to the Police.

The second season brought in a new dimension, the dockworkers who find their business and their union less strong than it used to be, and so turn to aid in overseas smuggling to ensure their futures. Of course, everything then ties back into the Barksdale Organization, making for an intriguing web of crime and villainy. (Back to the villainy later). The third season adds three new layers, those of politics with mayoral hopeful Tommy Carcetti, rival drug boss and overall vicious bastard Marlo Stanfield, and the recently sprung from jail old-school gangster trying to make his way in a new world, Dennis "Cutty" Wise. The third season is where things got interesting. With all of these storylines, it set up a vast number of intricacies that would continue up until the end of the series. Also, the third season provided a timely analogy to the war in Iraq with the more straightforward war on drugs.

The fourth season introduces four public school kids who are torn between a life on the corner, selling drugs, and the far less likely 'way out.' Namond Brice, son of imprisoned Barksdale enforcer "Wee Bay" Brice, Michael Lee, a boy looking out for his younger brother despite their junkie mother, Dukie Weems, whose parents steal everything he brings home to sell for drug money, and Randy Wagstaff, an adopted foster child, are our central figures. Despite their seemingly unavoidable destinies, where these boys end up might surprise you, and ends up being one of the most interesting aspects of the fifth season. That fifth and final season layers on the newspapermen of the Baltimore Sun, tying in the lies and deceit of the print with the lies and deceit of the police, especially one Jimmy McNulty, and the code of ethics of their peers such as Bunk Moreland and Augustus Haynes. Meanwhile, we are introduced to two of the most vicious people to ever appear on the show, Chris Partlow and Snoop Pearson, Marlo's ruthless henchmen. The fifth season is the final season, and aside from Six Feet Under, probably the best last fifteen minutes of a show ever aired.

I have saved the best parts of The Wire for last. There are two characters who have appeared in every season, sprinkled throughout so as not to overpower the main storylines, but enough to become the more interesting and popular characters on the show. The first is named "Bubbles," an addict who is often a 'C.I.' (Confidential Informant) for the Baltimore Police. Over the years, the well meaning but down on his luck Bubs repeatedly goes on and off the drugs, is abused by the cops, the other street dwellers and his own family members. Through it all, Bubbles tries to see the good in things and people and we can't help but connect with him, no matter how disparate our lives may be to his. The second character is Omar Little. Omar, somewhat a Baltimore streets 'spook story,' is a criminal with a code. He will only rob from those who prey on the community, i.e. the drug trade. He is the only major character on the show not to use profanity. He would normally seem somewhat an outcast, being an openly gay street thug, but is the most feared individual on those streets. When he walks down the street in PJ's to buy some cereal, kids flee in terror screaming, "Omar's comin', Omar!" One of the more haunting soundbites in the show is Omar whistling his threatening theme, "The Farmer in the Dell." When he whistles that tune, you know you're in trouble.

Omar and Bubbles are probably the most complex characters in a show filled with complex characters. Bubbles, aside from the major players in the police, is one of the only characters to have appeared in the first and last episode, making a particularly long and intriguing story arc. Omar's story shares a similarly mirrored and bookended storyline going from the third episode in the first to three episodes from the close. David Simon has claimed that there are almost no redeeming characters in the entire show, save for maybe Leandor Sydnor, one of the Major Case Unit Detectives, and even he has his moments. This show is a televised and dramatized novelization that's based on reality, and that's what makes this show so special. Life is gritty and ugly, with slight moments of hope, and this is exactly how the City of Baltimore is presented here. Five seasons just wasn't enough...

It's a Beautiful Day For a Ball Game...

It's been a fairly good week compared to most. Why? Well, going backwards, the week ends with the fourth season premiere of Battlestar Galactica. That alone is enough to put a smirk on my face, and I'll write a separate blog on that terrific show. But, there was also a new album release by R.E.M. that puts them squarely back to a place when they were relevant and rockin'. And again, I'll write a separate blog on Accelerate later. But the week started with one of the holiest of holy days, Opening Day.

Baseball has been a life long love for me. My parents took me and my siblings on regular trips to Dodger Stadium when I was very small. Those excursions to the ballpark are the most vivid memories I have of my childhood. Back then, and even now, there is something magical about the ballpark, and especially Dodger Stadium. You'd think that with the sport being as storied as it is, that a stadium built in 1962 would still be considered relatively new, but it is now the 4th oldest park in the Major Leagues, and will possibly move up if and when the Yankees and Red Sox build new parks. (I just can't see the Cubs doing it, Wrigley will probably be around forever, or until they win a World Series, whichever comes first). That perfectly tended grass, that beveled roof in the outfield, those yummy Dodger Dogs, they're all parts of why I love Dodger Stadium, and were great contributors into why I love the game.

There's no way I could do justice to the game of baseball as a whole in the way that has already been done by writer / director Phil Alden Robinson in Field of Dreams. So, take a little side excursion and watch here why baseball is the best sport in America.

I grew up watching one of the greatest infields ever to play the game. Steve Garvey at first base, Davey Lopes at second, Bill Russell at short and Ron Cey (The Penguin) at third. It's one of the last times I can remember that an entire infield was feared both on the field and in the batter's box. Sure, A-Rod and Jeter aren't slouches, and Cano is turning out to be a great second baseman, but there's usually one out of the four positions that struggles. There have been a couple of World Series titles since then, in '81 and '88, but true blue Dodger fans have been waiting ever since. Remember, as opposed to the pre-2004 Red Sox and the Cubbies, the Dodgers are actually one of the more successful ball clubs in the league. They are second only to the Yankees in terms of World Series appearances with 18!

As the saying goes, "Wait Until Next Year," and hopefully, that year has begun. Player acquisition is always a tricky business. The balance of farm-raised talent, supposed star trades, and veterans with a penchant for injury is never easy. They've tried the superstar thing with a number of aging pitchers (Kevin Brown, anyone?) and they've also tried the Sabermetrics plan with Paul DePodesta at the helm. That failed, too. And now, the Dodgers have seemingly gone back to the idea that I've loved and embraced about them, the idea of creating homegrown talent in their farm system. James Loney, Andy LaRoche, Jonathan Broxton, Matt Kemp, Russell Martin, Blake DeWitt, Jason Repko and Delwyn Young are all 'promotion from the inside' talent that has shone or will shine in the upcoming days, weeks and months. The problem is, they have to mix with the veterans, such as Jeff Kent, Nomar Garciaparra, Derek Lowe, Brad Penny and now Andruw Jones. In fact, Kent had words with Loney and Kemp about just such a problem.

So, how's this going to work out? Well, the Dodgers made what I think is the best move in all of baseball this year, and it didn't involve a player. Frank McCourt went out and got one of the most proven managers in the game in Joe Torre. Although, like most, I generally hate the Yankees, I've always respected Torre. He had a head for the game, with both a fire and drive to win, but also an even temperament to withstand pressure with ease (who else could last that long with Steinbrenner in charge, having to live on pins and needles for your job every year?). If there's one guy who could make the biggest impact on the Dodgers' success this year, it's Torre. Many of the pundits have the Dodgers placing third at best by the end of the year, but I'm hoping for a surprise. After all, wouldn't it be great to see the Dodgers play the Yanks in the series, yet again? But this time, Torre will have this revenge against his old team.