The Obsolete Journalist

There is no doubt the Internet is a beast of technology the likes of which our society has never encountered before. Giving global citizens the power to spread information across the world in real time has changed the way we consume news and information. In return, legacy media have been forced to submit control of the flow of information, sharing the responsibility with the blogosphere. Calls from those occupying formerly important gate keeping roles have looked to label the Internet as a bastardized free wheeling quagmire of tangled information that devalues news, journalism and communication through its very existence. Fear of the beast, however, does not mean the creature cannot be tamed.

It seems silly to think that stalwarts in the legacy news media continue to be scared stiff of a technology that can potentially expand their readership. Yet, pieces like Marc Fisher’s “Essential Again” chronicling the “renewed” need for journalists following the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, demonstrate the blind eye and ignorance towards the potential of the Internet to help journalists. Journalists seem steadfast in their need to continually assure themselves that they are still necessary in an increasingly digital society. Even those who are of the elite class of news reporters address the issue, as Judy Woodruff spoke at the University of Notre Dame asking the question: “Are Journalists Obsolete?”

This constant banter borders on the narcissistic when examined from outside the established news culture. To all journalists out there: YOU ARE NOT OBSOLETE. The only outdated element of journalism may be the definition itself. We are in a time of great change and opportunity where the classic skills of the journalist, writing, research, and news sense, are of the utmost importance. The Internet is begging for people to solve the puzzle of how to provide accurate, important, consumable news amidst the chaos.

Instead of harboring malcontent, entrenched legacy journalists and students alike need to embrace and employ the utilities of the Internet. Why does a journalist have to report for a paper or a television station? Put simply, they do not. Yahoo.com’s news now features original reporting that offers a different dynamic than print or television for both the audience and the reporter. People trying to tackle the world of original online reporting need to not only understand how to disseminate information for the web, but also basic journalistic skills. Those who possess both skill sets will be at a premium for media conglomerates as they can work in print, television, online or all three. This versatility will be extremely useful in expanding journalists’ opportunities in the job market.
Common gripes among legacy journalists towards the news online include the lifting of news organization stories to place on blogs, the unmanageable mountain of information, and just plain bad writing. Rather than complain and criticize, it seems journalists, who have the skills and resources to remedy these complaints, should put their feelings into action. Instead of letting the medium exploit you, exercise your power to change it.

In his “Laptop Brigade”, James Walcott addresses the “danger of drowning in blogorrhea…”. With the exponential growth of the blogosphere in recent times, this theory holds a certain weight. However, with search tools like Google becoming more sophisticated, the likelihood that the average user will ever encounter sites on the Internet is very small. Users tend to visit the same group of sites for the majority of their surfing. When they decide to venture outside this comfort zone, a search engine such as Google automatically filters the most relevant sites to the top of the heap (generally). Therefore, when people search certain terms they are directed to the same sites, building the online relevance of the sites with the best application. Obscure blogs and sites that do not carry societal weight are found only those who actively seek them out. Otherwise, they tend to go unnoticed and have little effect on the online experience of the majority of users.

Blogs that are able to rise above the squalor do carry some sort of societal or cultural significance, even if that significance is the relentless following of celebrity antics. Even so, the majority of these blogs are nothing more than annotated aggregating systems that give users a quick outline of a story then link to deeper information on other sites. In this mold, blogs themselves will never overtake established news outlets as sources for information. If anything, they will help to point people to these outlets for more in depth coverage.

At the same time, legacy media should understand that blogging is not beneath them. A blog such as Engadget could very easily be maintained by a legacy news medium through their web presence in a technology section. Newspapers especially are predisposed for such a structure of reporting. Most, if not all, newspapers are put together in sections. Blogs for each section could easily be setup and maintained, with the links connecting directly back to the paper’s site itself. This would be an easy system of self promotion.

In the end, the future of the Internet and journalism lie solely in education at both ends of the spectrum. As consumers, people need to be educated in the basic workings of the Internet and how to avoid the mush pile that is inherent with the medium. More importantly, however, the journalists need to expand their education into the medium of the internet. Understanding how to write and report for an online audience are necessary skills for a journalist as the landscape continues to change.

Journalists who continue to view the Internet as the enemy will soon be swept up by the surging current. Rather, those who choose to adapt and embrace the utility of the technology will hold a marked advantage. Journalists who continue to question their necessity in society are choosing to not see the expansion of their profession. If they do not feel the need to embrace the new role they are being afforded, undoubtedly someone will.

Lyrics of the Day

It wouldn’t be a fair selection of lyrics without some Eminem. “When I’m Gone” is off his “Curtain Call”.

Yeah…
It’s my life…
My own words I guess…

Have you ever loved someone so much, you’d give an arm for?
Not the expression, no, literally give an arm for?
When they know they’re your heart
And you know you were their armour
And you will destroy anyone who would try to harm ‘her
But what happens when karma, turns right around and bites you?
And everything you stand for, turns on you to spite you?
What happens when you become the main source of her pain?
“Daddy look what I made”, Dad’s gotta go catch a plane
“Daddy where’s Mommy? I can’t find Mommy where is she?”
I don’t know go play Hailie, baby, your Daddy’s busy
Daddy’s writing a song, this song ain’t gonna write itself
I’ll give you one underdog then you gotta swing by yourself
Then turn right around on that song and tell her you love her
And put hands on her mother, who’s a spitting image of her
That’s Slim Shady, yeah baby, Slim Shady’s crazy
Shady made me, but tonight Shady’s rocka-by-baby…

And when I’m gone, just carry on, don’t mourn
Rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice
Just know that I’m looking down on you smiling
And I didn’t feel a thing, So baby don’t feel my pain
Just smile back
And when I’m gone, just carry on, don’t mourn
Rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice
Just know that I’m looking down on you smiling
And I didn’t feel a thing, So baby don’t feel my pain
Just smile back…

I keep having this dream, I’m pushin’ Hailie on the swing
She keeps screaming, she don’t want me to sing
“You’re making Mommy cry, why? Why is Mommy crying?”
Baby, Daddy ain’t leaving no more, “Daddy you’re lying
“You always say that, you always say this is the last time
“But you ain’t leaving no more, Daddy you’re mine”
She’s piling boxes in front of the door trying to block it
“Daddy please, Daddy don’t leave, Daddy - no stop it!”
Goes in her pocket, pulls out a tiny necklace locket
It’s got a picture, “this’ll keep you safe Daddy, take it withcha’”
I look up, it’s just me standing in the mirror
These fuckin’ walls must be talking, cuz man I can hear ‘em
They’re saying “You’ve got one more chance to do right” - and it’s tonight
Now go out there and show that you love ‘em before it’s too late
And just as I go to walk out of my bedroom door
It’s turns to a stage, they’re gone, and this spotlight is on
And I’m singing…

And when I’m gone, just carry on, don’t mourn
Rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice
Just know that I’m looking down on you smiling
And I didn’t feel a thing, So baby don’t feel my pain
Just smile back
And when I’m gone, just carry on, don’t mourn
Rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice
Just know that I’m looking down on you smiling
And I didn’t feel a thing, So baby don’t feel my pain
Just smile back…

Sixty thousand people, all jumping out their seat
The curtain closes, they’re throwing roses at my feet
I take a bow and thank you all for coming out
They’re screaming so loud, I take one last look at the crowd
I glance down, I don’t believe what I’m seeing
“Daddy it’s me, help Mommy, her wrists are bleeding,”
But baby we’re in Sweden, how did you get to Sweden?
“I followed you Daddy, you told me that you weren’t leavin’
“You lied to me Dad, and now you make Mommy sad
“And I bought you this coin, it says ‘Number One Dad’
“That’s all I wanted, I just want to give you this coin
“I get the point - fine, me and Mommy are going”
But baby wait, “it’s too late Dad, you made the choice
“Now go out there and show ‘em that you love ‘em more than us”
That’s what they want, they want you Marshall, they keep.. screamin’ your name
It’s no wonder you can’t go to sleep, just take another pill
Yeah, I bet you you will. You rap about it, yeah, word, k-keep it real
I hear applause, all this time I couldn’t see
How could it be, that the curtain is closing on me
I turn around, find a gun on the ground, cock it
Put it to my brain and scream “die Shady” and pop it
The sky darkens, my life flashes, the plane that I was supposed to be on crashes and burns to ashes
That’s when I wake up, alarm clock’s ringin’, there’s birds singin’
It’s Spring and Hailie’s outside swinging, I walk right up to Kim and kiss her
Tell her I miss her, Hailie just smiles and winks at her little sister
Almost as if to say..

And when I’m gone, just carry on, don’t mourn
Rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice
Just know that I’m looking down on you smiling
And I didn’t feel a thing, So baby don’t feel my pain
Just smile back
And when I’m gone, just carry on, don’t mourn
Rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice
Just know that I’m looking down on you smiling
And I didn’t feel a thing, So baby don’t feel my pain
Just smile back…

Lyrics of the Day

One of my favorite songs of all time today. Blink 182’s “Stay Together For the Kids” off of “Take Off Your Pants and Jacket.”

It’s hard to wake up, when the shades have been pulled shut
This house is haunted, it’s so pathetic, it makes no sense at all
I’m ripe with things to say, the words rot and fall away
My stupid poem could fix this home, I’d read it every day

So here’s your holiday,
hope you enjoy it this time, you gave it all away.
It was mine, so when you’re dead and gone,
will you remember this night? twenty years now lost.
It’s not right.

Their anger hurts my ears, been running strong for seven years
Rather than fix the problems, they never solve them, it makes no sense at all
I see them everyday, we get along so why can’t they?
If this is what he wants, and it’s what she wants, then why is there so much pain?

So here’s your holiday,
hope you enjoy it this time, you gave it all away.
It was mine, so when you’re dead and gone,
will you remember this night? twenty years now lost
It’s not right.

So here’s your holiday,
hope you enjoy it this time, you gave it all away.
It was mine, so when you’re dead and gone,
will you remember this night? twenty years now lost.
It’s not right

All the President’s Men

Often coined as one of the very best screenplays written in the 70’s, All the President’s Men is an exciting mystery in which everyone knows the outcome. The brilliance of the screenplay lies in its ability to entertain the audience with a description of process and discovery when the audience already knows how the story will end. Ultimately, a product is produced that can be appreciated in both print and on the screen.

Overall, the screenplay clearly belongs to the characters of Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein. However, the selected scene, which takes place outside of Bill Bradlee’s house, differs as it is written for Bradlee.

The circumstances of the three characters clash. Though Bradlee and the reporters share the same objective, they occupy completely different ends of the spectrum in terms of how they reach these goals. Both reporters have been working tirelessly, under the guidance of Bradlee trying to uncover the truth behind the Watergate scandal. In the depicted scene, the fulcrum of the story is established, as the pressure on the reporters to come up with concrete evidence, and the pressure on Bradlee to publish the most reputable national newspaper is approaching a tipping point. Compounding the situation, many politicians in the Republican Party are continually crushing the commentary coming from the paper by deeming their reports as Democratic propaganda at best, adding more weight to the crushing pressure already straining down on them. The action could seemingly tip in favor of the newspaper, or the thin hold they cling to the story by could break, bringing the entire paper down with them.

The dynamic relationship of the characters in the scene is carried visibly through the actions and mannerisms of Bradlee, as he demonstratively expresses his feelings to the reporters. He drives the action, with the reporters in a more submissive role as they know that they must listen to his entire rant whether they agree or not. The dynamic realized from this experience is his escalating mood, as he becomes more vehement with his delivery as the monologue continues. The two reporters grow fairly uneasy as the speech progresses, but this type of behavior is something they have come to expect from Bradlee, as he is a very outspoken character. At the same time, however, they realize much more is at stake than there has ever been before, making them aware of the gravity of his words. Therefore, the tension between Bradlee and the reporters also rises with the action.

The spine of the story is based around the investigation into the Watergate scandal and the massive cover up that ensued. The reporters are trying desperately to reveal the deception behind the break in, but are buried in political rhetoric from the Republican Party, due to insufficient and inconclusive evidence. As viewers, our prior knowledge of the situation provides us the awareness that the allegations are true, making us more interested in the process of the story, rather than the outcome itself.

The spine of the scene is put together using the immense amount of pressure the three characters are under at this point in the narrative. We can tell Bradlee is reaching a breaking point as his patience wears thin. His venting of frustrations lets the viewer know the importance of the investigation and subsequent reports of the information the journalists are gathering.

The spines of the characters themselves relate, but also differ due to the respective hierarchal standings of the characters. As previously described, Bradlee is worried both about being first to break with the story and the credibility of the newspaper. The two reporters are driven by their investigative need to uncover the truth behind the case, not to mention the security of their jobs.
The tone is demonstrated on an escalating scale, culminating in a very harsh and direct manner. This comes through in the deep emotion and threatening comments Bradlee is expressing to his reporters. Once again, we experience a measured amount of desperation and frustration in his voice and mannerisms as he vents on the reporters.

The wants and needs of Bradlee can be described through the examination of his spine. He wants to be the first news source to break the story and also to maintain the credibility of the newspaper, while retaining the jobs of the thousands of people employed by the newspaper. He is worried about the validity of the accounts being published and the reputable reputation of his newspaper. Most importantly though, he wants to break the story and uncover the truth behind the cover up. The obstacles facing Bradlee are two fold. The most obvious of these obstacles is the political structure that is defending the perpetrators and sustaining the cover up. At this point, dropping the lead is not an option as any withdrawal would signal weakness and an admission of incorrectness.

The reporters’ wants are, once again, similar to that of Bradlee’s. As a result of the enormous amount of time they have invested into the investigation, their main goal is to reveal the truth in the case, and to be the first to do it. Their obstacles are, like Bradlee’s two fold, as the political machine stands in the way of their reporting. However, just as the reporters hindered Bradlee, they also find him as a hindrance, as he is constantly looking over their shoulders and forcing them to do things his way, creating tension.

In this scene, the reporters’ actions consist mostly of listening to Bradlee. This becomes important action because, as their boss, he is expressing the importance of their assignment and the new meaning that it has taken on. Bradlee’s actions are necessary for his wants because he is looking out for the well being of the company by expressing his take on the story to the reporters. He needs to make sure that they are conducting themselves and the investigation within the best interests of the company as whole.

In terms of motifs, I feel that the use of dark shadows and contrasting light to the affect the mood of the scene. To create the edgy feel necessary for the scene, the use of the source light as a key light, letting shadow drop on the opposite side of the face will be necessary.

To achieve visual significance with placement of the characters and the camera, I will employ a low angled shot for the intense section of Bradlee’s speech. Through the use of this angle, the viewer will see Bradlee as a more powerful character in the scene, as he will appear to be large in the shot. It is this power that is essential in the effectiveness of this scene. This use of placement and staging captures the action in a way that emphasizes the most important character: Bradlee. His mannerisms and movements capture the importance of the scene through his emotions. These characteristics also help make what is internal transform into the physical, for Bradlee in particular. Internally, he is ready to explode with stress and anxiety. This is exhibited in his physical behavior, as we are aware that he is very tense, but wants to burst out.

Lyrics of the Day

Cartel’s “Chroma” gives us “A” today. Its a long song, but worth the listen. It knows what is important.

And you can take this however you want
Yeah you can take this however you want
And don’t be so so sure this is all it adds up to….you

You’re justified
But there’s no justice if it’s just a lie
No, go and find yourself
You will if you look inside
And I’ll never know
And you never will
Still I’ll never know
And you won’t until someone stands up
Then you’ll get some answers

And you can take this however you want
Yeah you can take this however you want
Just don’t waste your breath unless you can save us
And tell me can you
Can you save us?

Can you save?
Can you save us?
This can’t go on without the meaning in the rhyme
Can you save?
Can you save us?
I can’t go on
Out of rhythm with our time

Our days were numbered by nights on too many rooftops
They said we’re wasting our lives
Oh at least we know that if we died
We lived with passion
They said we burned so bright

(And tell me, can you save us?
Oh, whoa, oh at least we know, that if we died
They said we’d burn so bright, bright, no, whoa
But we’re not wasting our lives
And if we die, oh maybe you, maybe you
And oh maybe you can save us)

(We run and we run)
We know there’s an answer
We know by going home we’ll find it by ourselves
(Whoa)

When what you want is what you’re getting
(They’re catching onto us)
(Oh whoa oh oh oh)
When all you can do is hide
(Don’t be afraid)

Oh maybe you can save us..
When all you can do is hide..

Oh (We know there’s an answer,
We know by going home we’ll find it by ourselves)

23

The Number 23 was another foray away from his more widely accepted roles as a comedic film actor. Although it could be argued that the plot was slightly underdeveloped, the premise for a good story telling experience was present. The film dealt with a rehabilitated mental patient’s realization of his murderous past, followed by his slow decline back into madness. Walter Sparrow stumbles across a book that begins to consume his life. The book details a man’s obsession with the number 23 as the number begins to eerily connect to everything in his life. As Sparrow reads of the sorrows of the fictitious Fingerling, he begins to find similar connections in his life. He starts to derive the number through any and all permutations that are possible (and seemingly impossible), becoming completely obsessed with the frightening coincidence of the number’s associations. The more and more he reads, the more he is able to connect the characters in the book to those in his life. His slow decline begins to affect his family life, as his wife tries to convince him that he is projecting all this madness from his own paranoia, but his son becomes intrigued with his father’s case. As Sparrow begins to piece together what he thinks is the conspiracy against him created through the author of the book, the obvious is finally revealed that he is the author After this realization, he is confronted with the truth that he committed a murder and sent an innocent man to jail for his actions. Therefore, Sparrow does the noble thing, turning himself into the authorities finish the sentence he deserves.

Although the translucence of the plot may appear contrived to some viewers, I found this transparency interesting. As an audience, we quickly pick up on the visual metaphors and story motifs that tell us Sparrow is the author of the book. The use of the color red is a strong motif that ties Sparrow into the trouble that awaits him. The book itself, the walls in his home, and numerous instances of colored key lights used were a bright blood red. Also, when Sparrow first began to read the book, drops of red blood ran down onto the pages. The author listed on the cover of the book was “Topsey Kretts”; a rather obvious play on words: Top Secrets. This is a major sign to show that there is a deeper meaning hidden within the book’s pages and Sparrow’s instincts are not far off. Also, following his dog bite, Sparrow must undergo psychoanalysis, not immediately revealing any protruding manic tendencies, but displaying an uneasiness in the mood of the scene. This shows the audience that there is some credence to Sparrow being in the office and that the interviewer most likely had a knowledge of his past.

Even though one can quickly pick up on the plot direction of the story, the film does not ultimately fail because of it. The plot itself lacks a change in first act as we are just introduced to the string of coincidences that add up to the number 23. This makes the film drag a bit and lack believability, as real time takes too long to pass. However, I felt that the immediate understanding that the man’s own work would ultimately be his undoing was tragic to watch. With the facts out of the way and hidden to a majority of the characters in the movie, the audience can sit back and concentrate on watching Sparrow fall apart, already knowing that he is not a heroic crime fighter as he thinks.

This concept ties in well with the main theme of the movie, that being fate. In the film, fate was personified in the form of the dog, Ned. Sparrow narrates that if it was not for his run in with Ned, he would not have been late to pick up his wife, who in turn would never would have found the book. Also in this first encounter, Ned bites Sparrow, but manages to get away. Also, Ned watches over the grave of the girl who Sparrow murdered, telling us that something is not right with her death. Most telling, however, is when Sparrow actually catches Ned and shoots him with the tranquillizer. We find that Ned is not actually a stray, as he is watched over by the keeper of the graveyard. It is also now when we realize that Ned is always leading Sparrow back to the grave of the girl that he killed. This tells us that we cannot escape or capture fate, but are at the mercy of the predetermined plan, no matter the course you take to get there. This also brings with it the idea that you will be held responsible for your actions. Anything you do you are inexorably tied to for eternity. There is no escape from your past, even if you have consciously erased it from your memory. Your actions and the consequences of those actions will always catch you in the end.

Fargo, Now That’s a Place

The stunning sense of place created and maintained by the Coen Brothers in Fargo, is facilitated by multiple factors. The first, and most obvious of which, is the snow. Put bluntly, it is everywhere. We get our first taste of this white wash on page one, as the film fades up to a low visibility snow squall (FADE IN FROM WHITE 1). This motif continues as a constant throughout the film, both interiorly and exteriorly. On the very next page, we are introduced to the snow swept parking lot of the Jolly Troll Tavern. These references to exterior occurrences and usages of the flakey continue on pages, five, eight, twelve, etc., as they are included in nearly all exterior action lines. Even when Jerry seems to have escaped the snow by entering into the comfort of his home, we are reminded of its presence as he stamps it from his snow boots. These references show the importance and significance of the gloomy, snowy landscape, as it is a dominating trait of the upper northwest. The viewer would become weighed down by the gloominess of the images the Coen Brothers employ, were it not for the oblivious locals. These people have grown accustomed to such a bleak geographical tapestry, that they are unaware it is depressing at all, conducting themselves normally. Ironically, even the television that Carl tries so desperately to bash into submission, only gives him a snowy reception.

Also employed in the film to establish setting and place is the distinct accent of the people native to the region. Once again, this trait is shown to the audience strait from the get go. From the first personal interaction we are introduced to this accent, as the waitress is refilling the coffee for Carl and Gaear; “Can I warm that up for ya there?” (CHAIN RESTAURANT 2). This style of dialogue immediately tells the viewer where they are in the country. The linguistic precedent established in this one line of dialogue is carried through the rest of the film with the characters who are native to the area, that being all but Carl and Gaear.

Another element of the film that helps establish a strong sense of the place is the frigid temperature. Indoors or not, the viewer feels cold in every scene. Instances as early as Jerry walking in the house with his heavy parka tightly zipped to his chin, his scarf securely wrapped around his neck, and his snow covered boots, let the viewer experience the extreme cold of the region (MINNEAPOLIS SUBURBAN HOUSE 5). This parka is covering Jerry for a majority of the film, and we never see him outdoors without it. Helping to augment the feeling of freezing temperatures through dry humor is the conversation that Mr. Mohra and the local police officer have outside his home (OUTSIDE 67). As the two discuss the conversation that Mr. Mohra had with Carl, it is obvious by their stiff body language and heavily layered clothing that it is bitterly cold. Yet, at the end of their conversation, they depart by commenting on the impending cold front and inevitable shift to “cold” weather. This is a comically absurd way of reminding the viewer how engrained the cold is into their bodies.

We are also reminded of place by the bleak, open country that makes up the landscape of the exterior scenery. The viewer is introduced to this reality on the two lane “highway”, bordered on both sides by barren snow fields (WHITE 8). The mere fact that this pitiful piece of pavement is considered a high traffic area is contrary to the reality of highways in most parts of the country. Comically, we never see more than two cars on the road at the same time during any point of the film, yet this is still a highway into Brainard. This kind of wide open, barren, and often deserted landscape, is local to terrain for very few, providing the film with another element into the equation of creating place.

In an amusing cutaway shot, the sense of place is reinforced through the signs of culture in a teenager’s room. After Jean has been kidnapped, Jerry must tell Scotty about the ordeal and assure him that everything will be alright (SCOTTY’S ROOM 37). Comically, however, as Jerry closes the door to the room, the “Accordion King” poster draped across the back of Scotty’s door is revealed. No where else in the country would a teenage boy be expected to know of, let alone advertise, the existence of such a brand of music. This gives the viewer a stronger sense of place on a local cultural level, as most viewers would not be able to relate with such a taste in music, separating the film from many other places.

A final element that adds to the sense of place conveyed in the Coen Brothers’ film is the small town atmosphere that is generated through the relationships of the characters on screen. When Marge returns to the police station, she is greeted by Norm sitting at her desk having lunch (BRAINARD POLICE HEADQUARTERS 39). There are not many establishments of law that would allow for such lax treatment of the professional environment. However, as these people know most other people in town, Norm is a friendly face that he poses no threat. During this same scene, after Norm and Marge have been discussing the painting he has been working on, Lou walks in and immediately asks about Norm’s painting as well. This kind of knowledge of people’s lives can only be achieved in small, close knit communities. Such a relationship between many people can only be achieved in a small town setting, not common to many other locales.

Ultimately, Wade Gustafson was the monkey wrench to the well laid plan of Jerry Lundergard. Had Jerry been able to get the money he needed from his father-in-law in the first place, Jerry’s plan would have never been necessary. After this original mishap, Wade continued to hinder the every step in Jerry’s plan. He demands to be part of the process, rather than sitting back and letting Jerry orchestrate the drop. He will not leave Jerry alone, keeping him under constant pressure and raising Jerry’s stress level to a constant boiling point. Not only this, but Wade takes control when the money is on the line and the delivery needs to be made. Even with all the other intervention, Jerry’s plan could still have been successful had he been able to deliver the money himself. However, Wade decides that he wants to play hardball and transports the money himself. This, unfortunately, was where Jerry’s plan finally spiraled out of control, with no hope of recover, as Wade was left dead and Jerry without his money.

Carl Showalter’s role proved to be very harmful in Jerry’s scheme as well. As a result of Carl’s forgetfulness in putting registration plates on the new car, he and Grimsrud are pulled over by the trooper. Had this been avoided, then many of the problems, including the initial complication, would have been avoided. However, this still would not have stopped Wade from interfering, and ultimately ruining the plan.

Carl’s associate, Gaear Grimsrud, is in line right behind Carl in the blame game. Had Grimsrud been able to keep his composure and refrain to killing every person that got in the way (or rubbed him the wrong way), the plan might not have gone south as fast. Inevitably, however, his actions were only inflammatory to the other actions that caused the downfall of the plan.

Jerry, although he got himself into the mess, is not the reason his plan was ruined. He was way in over his head and had no idea how to operate in the criminal world. He was not able to control the actions of the people that were dragged into the situation and. Frankly, he had no control over the direction of the operation, because he was too meek to exercise any kind of power. The only person less responsible for his downfall than himself was Marge.

Within her life and occupation as a police officer, she was only doing her job throughout. She was smarter than all the criminals involved, and was ultimately going to bring them to justice from the moment she was introduced into the equation. However, she would have never become involved, had it not been for the murders. Through the actions of the characters before her, she was brought into the situation. Without the actions of the other characters, she never would have gotten involved in the story, making her the least important character in the downfall of Jerry’s plan.

For the story as a whole, it can be regarded as the systematic deterioration of Jerry Lundergard’s plan. Although much of the screen time is dominated by Marge, she is merely a character in Jerry’s story. She is on the outside of the situation, trying to find the inside scoop, whereas all the other characters are actively participating in what they know is the plan. If Marge is not introduced into the story, it will continue and the plan will still be foiled regardless. On the flip side however, if Jerry is taken from the story, there is no story. He is the reason that there is a story to tell. It is his plan that has initiated the course of action driving the story line throughout the film.

Marge’s involvement is part of her daily life, a life that would continue whether she was part of the events or not. The audience is made to think that, although this is not standard procedure for Marge, she takes the situation within the realm of her everyday work. Jerry, on the other hand, is completely outside his normal operating means, as he has fallen into a situation he cannot handle. Therefore, the story is driven by his actions (and consequently the lack thereof) as he tries to manipulate, but falls ineptly flat on his face throughout the course of the proceedings that lead to his eventual arrest.

Lyrics of the Day

A little darker than usual but poignant nonetheless. This is Alkaline Trio with “Radio” from “Maybe I’ll Catch Fire” (2000).

Shaking like a dog shittin’ razorblades,
waking up next to nothing after dreaming of you and me
I’m waking up all alone, waking up so relieved
while you’re taking your time with apologies,
I’m making my plans for revenge
Red eyes on orange horizons
If Columbus was wrong I’d drive straight off the edge
I’d drive straight off the edge

Taking your own life with boredom,
I’m taking my own life with wine -
it helps you to rule out the sorrow,
it helps me to empty my mind
Making the most of a bad time
I’m smoking the brains from my head
Leaving the coal calling the kettle black and orange and red
This kettle is seeing red

I’ve got a big fat fuckin’ bone to pick with you my darling
In case you haven’t heard I’m sick and tired of trying
I wish you would take my radio to bathe with you,
plugged in and ready to fall

Lyrics of the Day

Today its Glen Hansard off of the soundtrack to the film “Once” with “When Your Mind is Made Up.” Not only is this a great song but I highly recommend the film along with the rest of the soundtrack.

So, if you want something
And you call, call
Then’ll come running
To fight, and I’ll be at your door
When there’s something worth running for

When your mind’s made up
When your mind’s made up
There’s no point trying to change it
When your mind’s made up
When your mind’s made up
There’s no point trying to stop it

You see, you’re just like everyone
When the shit falls all you want to do is run, away
And hide all by yourself
When you’re far from me, there’s nothing else

Where You Are Right Now

It was unseasonably warm for early March. The sun was shining bright, vibrantly illuminating the cloudless sky, while the gentle breeze rustled the bare branches of the trees lining the landscape. This beautiful weather, however, was being spoiled by the discomfort of the starch soaked shirt and noose tight tie I was being forced to wear.

“Are you sure its supposed to be this tight?” I complained.

“Stop moaning, you can take it off right when the thing is over anyway,” answered my father.

“Alright, but if I keel over from lack of oxygen to my brain I am blaming God.”

Fittingly, all I received in response was infamous the evil eye. Valuing my immediate health, I knew it was in my best interest to cease with the attempts at humor. We were approaching the giant doors of the church anyway.

I never possessed an internal calling for religious worship, due primarily to the boredom, as a product of the hours slouching in the uncomfortable pews. Not to mention it often created serious conflicts with soccer matches on Sunday afternoons. Mom, however, thought it was important, loading us in the car just about every Sunday bright and early.

When my sixteenth birthday rolled around, Mom said I was old enough to get confirmed. My immediate reaction was the most obvious of questions, “So…?”

“So, its something you should do,” was the most forceful rebuttal.

Eventually, not having much say in the matter, I had to go. I went in without any notion of what the journey entailed, much like both Marlo Morgan and Julia Butterfly. Consistent with both authors, the entire length of the experience would shape my views and perspectives for the remainder of my life.
Every Sunday for the better part of six months, I was cramped inside a damp, dingy classroom, learning about the lessons and traditions of “my” United Methodist religion. Ultimately, although, I would interpret the philosophies in a manner differing from the intended context of the church itself, the perception helped me more accurately identify my personal relationship to spirituality.

As the weeks progressed, I began to notice a notable trend in the content of the lectures. All the discussions seemed to lack personal resonance, as I interpreted them as convoluted examples of common sense issues. They lacked the powerful underlying meanings that I had expected, supposedly coming from an omnipotent perspective of being. Central in these discussions was the issue of death, and the accompanying dilemma of the afterlife. We conjectured seemingly endless possibilities pertaining to the judgment of souls, conferring the consequences of our actions in the state of human consciousness. However, in totality, the answers the group had settled on were strictly based on faith in an undefined source that had no substance, other than that granted to it by believers. Compounding the conundrum was the doctrine elucidating the manner in which people are supposed to act, as it was based firmly on fear of reprisals in the afterlife. Yet, at the same time we were being taught that God was a superlative being who was to forgive all of our transgressions. Personally, they seemed to be merely complicating that matter at hand. The objective of religion, as I interpret it to be, is to provide people with a blueprint for a life defined by moral character. What about people who do not seek such a map for life, but would rather discover it along the way. Living a life of high moral standard with a regard for other people does not require an element of religion. For me, this guidance seemed unneeded and unimportant.

By the end of the course, I had decided that the whole situation was not in my best interest. Approaching my family with this judgment on the other hand, was a different monster in itself. I had no idea how I would tackle my mother’s opinion on the circumstances. So I didn’t. I procrastinated until the day I was to be confirmed, which was now upon us.

As we entered the church, my thoughts immediately began mulling over all that had been taught to our group. Many of the students had bought into the beliefs of the church, making it somewhat hard to relate to their position. It was not that I thought religion was a negative entity. In fact, it can be quite the opposite for some people. It teaches the most basic of quality human characteristics and positive lessons translatable to life. Countless people are provided with the answers and faith they need to lead a healthy life. For me on the other hand, all these rules and teachings seemed rather unnecessary. The grandiose stories and elaborate teachings all pointed a common denominator of basic decency. I did not need the promise of a trip to heaven or quell with fear of damnation in hell to act in a positive manner. What was I really doing here anyway?

The enormity of the situation really didn’t hit me until the ceremony was over and I was at the reception with members of my family.

“So, do you believe in God?”

I knew this question had been brewing in my aunt’s head for a good 16 years, giving me ample time to conjure up some kind of response. However, all I could mutter, not to definitively was, “Uhhhhhh…..sure?”

Immediately realizing the sheer comedy in the answer, I turned and walked away. After spending a portion of my life coming here, listening to someone ramble on and on about the teachings of the Savior of the human race and the beauty of and power of God, I was just now realizing I was not buying it.

I walked alone through the expansive halls of the church, making my way to the main sanctuary. Upon reaching the threshold, I stopped for a moment and took in the entirety of the occasion. In the front was the altar, adorned with multihued flowers marking the occasion of our group becoming confirmed members of the church. Behind the altar was the massive organ and choir section, ordained with gold trim and lavish woodwork. Positioned to capture the happenings from the front were the sections of pews that filled the majority of the church. Simple, rigid structures, they seemed to represent the idea of what the proper follower was to exemplify: a portrait of obedience and sameness, adhering to the shape and standard they were given by their creator. The most symbolic piece of furniture, though, was the podium erected for the pastor to speak from. From my point of view, it represented the thought of his elevation above the rest of the people inside the church, as his podium was physically higher than the rest of the seats in the room. Why should he be received as better than the other people there to congregate? With his position, is he automatically on a different level with God then all the other people there? Why should one person be held higher than any other person? Within this religion, I was to believe that this person could enlighten me on how to behave in order to be in favor with God. But how was I to know that he is right? Or for that matter, why should I assume supremeness in these beliefs without having explored the nature of the world and its people myself? Did I need someone to show me how to do that? No. I could benefit much more from trial and failure than guided, but ultimately, blind faith along a path already traveled by countless others before me.

As I walked through the sanctuary, early afternoon light poured in via the stained glass windows, throwing vivacious color all over the room. The actual beauty of the room caught my attention, causing me realize why it all seemed so illogical to me. This massive structure of intricate makings and human effort, built so that people could come to be told how to live their lives correctly. Why should someone be told what to do, when they can go seek the answers themselves? Is it the answers we should be seeking at all? Every second I thought I had figured it out, more questions permeated my thoughts. Exponentially they multiplied, filling every crevasse of my brain. Why do people seek the answers to questions that cannot be answered?

On the surface, this experience seems to have created more questions than answers. In the end, however, is that a bad thing? Like Marlo Morgan and Julia Butterfly, I reentered my world with a new perspective. A perspective that allowed me to understand that experience must be translated through as many perceptions as possible. All the questions I now had fueled thought and action, rather than the belief I was on the right path. They call idleness the devil’s playground, but many people of strict religious adherence are idle in their interpretation and perspectives on experience. Adhering to one train of thought will give you answers, but it steals from you the ability to explore the world fully.
I promptly told my mom on the way home that I was not going to go to church anymore. More surprised than anything it seemed, all she could say was, “Why…you put in a lot of time to just do this.”

I answered frankly, “I experienced it and its not for me.”
Although not totally in agreement, she was supportive when I asked to have my confirmation rescinded.

When I go to church with my mom from time to time to keep her company, I take in the sermons from a new perspective. A perspective that values the experience and allows me to add to my awareness of the world around me.