You have to be careful when telling a Penn State joke. What (allegedly) happened at that institution of higher learning is pretty shocking. Lives have been shattered, and you have to be sensitive to that. Calling that university “Ped State” is not sensitive, and it’s not funny. So if you’re going to tell a Penn State joke (and you probably shouldn’t), if you really have the urge to tell a Penn State joke (and I wouldn’t if I were you), if you absolutely have to tell a Penn State joke (and shame on you if you do), then you’d better be ready to take some grief for it.
*****
WARNING!!! THE JOKE BELOW IS (short but) VERY TACKY!
A Penn State football recruiter was visiting a highly regarded high school player. The recruiter talked about the winning traditions of Penn State and its proud history (and stayed away from mentioning the Sandusky scandal), but despite the recruiter’s best efforts, the high school football player insisted he didn’t plan on going to Penn State.
“Why not?” the recruiter asked, hesitantly. “Is it because of any scandals that you’ve heard about?”
“No, I don’t know about any scandals,” the high school football player said.
“Really?” the recruiter said, perplexed. “Is it about the coaching changes then?”
“No, I don’t mind the coaching changes,” the football player said.
“Is it about our bland uniforms?” the recruiter asked.
“No, I don’t mind your uniforms,” the football player said.
Puzzled, the recruiter asked, “Then why is it that you don’t want to come to Penn State?”
“Because every other university set me up with some really hot college women on my recruiting visits,” the football player said. “At Penn State, all I got was some old naked guy in the shower.”
I’ll be honest. Here’s my real gripe with Stephen King. A couple summers ago an overhyped novel called The Passage (by Justin Cronin) came out, and the premise sounded interesting enough. Stephen King was writing a column for a weekly entertainment magazine (whose name I won’t mention), and he recommended the book. I purchased the novel, and it was so long and disappointing that I never finished it. And that ticked me off!
Looking back, I wonder if Stephen King ever finished reading that book either.
It kind of makes sense. The first 100 pages of The Passage are pretty good, but then it falls apart. My theory (with no proof to back it up) is that Stephen King read the first 100 pages or so and then wrote his recommendation. Again, this is a theory, not an accusation.
Inspired by my annoyance at his book review (maybe I take these things too seriously), I am out to prove that Stephen King’s writing has regressed since his early greatness. And to do this, I will compare his latest, 11-22-63, with two of his earliest awesome classics (no sarcasm), Carrie and Different Seasons.
REVIEWING BOOKS YOU DON’T FINISH
This is a philosophical thing. I have no problem reviewing books I didn’t finish reading. There’s a reason people don’t finish books, and it’s important for other potential readers to know those reasons.
I finished reading Carrie. It was great. I finished reading Different Seasons. It was great. Well, two of the stories (“Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption” and “The Body” were great, and the two other stories were good. I didn’t finish reading 11-22-63.
NO SPOILERS
The good thing about reviewing a book that I didn’t finish (besides the saved time in not actually reading the book) is that I won’t reveal spoilers because I don’t know how the book ends.
I’m also not bothering with a synopsis of each story. Most readers familiar with Stephen King are familiar with these stories, and I have an attention span limit. My point (in this particular review) is to focus on King’s writing style, not his stories.
WHY CARRIE AND DIFFERENT SEASONS?
I needed a couple of Stephen King’s early books to prove that his writing has declined over the years. These are the two books that I happened to have lying around, and I’m too lazy and cheap to repurchase The Stand or The Shining. That’s my fault, not Stephen King’s.
TOO LONG
As a dysfunctional literate, I don’t read books over 500 pages long unless they’re awesome. I read The Stand (years ago, and I’d read it again if I had time) because (in my memory) it was great. 11-22-63 wasn’t great, so I’m not reading the whole thing.
Carrie was not 500 pages long.
Different Seasons was about 500 pages, but it was divided up into four stories.
11-22-63, at about 850 pages, is over 500 pages long.
NO PERSONALITY
One of the problems with 11-22-63 is that the narrator (the main character whose name I’ve forgotten) is bland and seems to have no personality.
Seriously, (if you’ve already read the book) what is the main character’s personality? The narrator is a high school teacher. He doesn’t like to grade papers. The one school relationship mentioned is a friendship with a custodian(?) who just got his diploma. He seems to have no relationship with the students except he grades their papers. He eats Fatburgers. And he is friends (kind of) with the guy who runs Fatburgers. That’s it.
Some may argue that the character’s personality isn’t the point, that the setting (1958-1963) is more important, and if that works for other readers, okay. But it didn’t work for me. Everybody has a personality, even (especially) a guy who travels back in time. Listen to Marty McFly; that guy’s got a lot of personality.
Carrie (and the people tormenting her) in Carrie had personality. The narrator (and Andy Dufresne) in “Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption” had personality. The narrator in “The Body” had a personality. The narrator in 11-22-63 has no personality.
BAD METAPHORS
You can argue about whether or not a style of writing is boring. That’s subjective. But bad metaphors? These might be subjective as well, but they’re at least easier to pinpoint and argue about.
The first few pages of 11-22-63 contain metaphors that are too clumsy for an author of Stephen King’s talents.
For example, the narrator described how his Fatburger friend(?) had changed in one day by saying: “I had not yet entered the fog of unreality that would soon swallow me, but the first tendrils were sweeping around me, and I felt them.”
Then a few paragraphs later…
“I looked back, feeling the fog of unreality thicken around me. The day was warm but the fog was cold.”
Then a few paragraphs later…
“Nobody loses thirty or forty pounds in less than a day, nobody. But I was looking at it. And this, I think, is where the fog of unreality swallowed me whole.”
This “fog of unreality” expression is (in my opinion) lazy, distractingly bad writing. If King had used it once and moved on, maybe I wouldn’t have noticed it or it might not have stuck with me. But he went to this phrase, as if it were deep, and an editor (if he has one anymore) should have told him it wasn’t that good and to try something else as an extended metaphor.
Describing time travel, the narrator says: “My eyes felt like they were bugging out of their sockets. My scalp and a narrow strip of skin all the way down the middle of my back was crawling.”
Eyes “bugging out” and “skin crawling” in back to back sentences is kind of trite. Maybe it would understandable in a first draft, but c’mon! This is Stephen King we’re talking about.
Read the first few pages of Carrie, or “Shawshank,” or “The Body,” and you don’t find these kinds of examples of lazy writing. At least I didn’t.
IT’S NOT HATIN’ IF YOU CAN BACK IT UP WITH FACTS
I’m not trying to “hate” on Stephen King (and if I am, it’s not because he’s successful but because I wasted my time on a really long, disappointing book that he recommended). It’s one thing to be a great writer who now settles for writing way too many mediocre books. It’s another thing to be a great writer who writes mediocre books and then gives glowing recommendations to books that are less than mediocre.
That’s crossing a line.
And I’m not going to stand for it.
11-22-63 is inferior to Stephen King’s earlier masterpieces (Okay, I know that most novels are inferior to Stephen King’s early masterpieces) because it’s way too long (yeah, I know, I didn’t finish it, but I’m pretty sure it’s too long), it’s bland, and there are too many examples of lazy writing, such as the poor metaphors that I mentioned. My suggestion is (other than staying away from The Passage) that if you feel the need to read a really long Stephen King novel, go back to The Stand or It.
The ultimate competitive shopper nudged her way close to the front of the line at Wal-Mart before the sales started on Black Friday. After she entered the store, she dropped a pile of marbles on the floor, causing a bunch of bargain hunters behind her to fall down. When she got to the electronics section, she peppered sprayed the area, causing everybody else to gag, sneeze, and gasp for breath. The competitive shopper loaded up her cart with computers, video game consoles, and flat screen TVs, all on special sale. When she got to the check out line, she tazed everybody in front of her so that she could get out quickly and make the next sale at another store. To her credit, she didn’t shoplift.
A few days later the ultimate competitive shopper got caught, but she was ready. She lawyered up, got her charges reduced, and she didn’t seem very nervous at sentencing. When the judge gave her the option of 1000 hours of community service instead of serving jail time, she shrugged. When the judge got ready to announce the fine, that’s when the competitive shopper held her breath.
“$5,000 fine!” the judge ordered.
“Yes!” the competitive shopper cheered, jumping up and down. She even tried to high five her lawyer, who was actually appalled by her response.
“How can you celebrate at a time like this?” the lawyer asked.
“Because even after the fine and the lawyer fees,” the competitive shopper answered, “I still saved $100.”
It was late in the fourth quarter with the Denver Broncos down 9-3 when Tim Tebow (who had up to that point completed 3-16 passes for 29 yards) hit a wide open receiver (the cornerback had fallen down) to get his team to the one yard line. Tim Tebow then rushed for the touchdown, dropped to one knee, and bowed his head in prayer for several seconds.
The Denver Broncos won the game 10-9, and in the post-game press conference Tim Tebow thanked God and thanked Jesus Christ for the win but forgot to thank his defense that had kept the other team to three field goals. During the press conference, he reminded the world that it was God and Jesus Christ who gave him the skills necessary to win the game. He also talked for several minutes about how much he loved God and Jesus Christ.
Then Tim Tebow’s really hot girlfriend ran into his arms in front of the crowd and cameras and tried to plant a sloppy wet kiss on him, but Tim Tebow stepped back and instead gave her an air hug.
“What’s wrong?” Tim Tebow’s really hot girlfriend asked.
“C’mon, honey,” Tim Tebow pleaded, embarrassed. “You know that I think public displays of affection are tacky.”
An overworked author was having writer’s block at the worst possible time. A deadline was approaching from his freelance job, he was working on his 100 blog posts in 100 days challenge, and he was writing a 50,000 word novel in a month all at the same time. The writer stared at his laptop screen, but he just couldn’t start writing.
Frustrated, the writer stood up and kicked his desk. Unfortunately, he wasn’t wearing shoes, and he jammed his big toe.
“Aaaaarrrrgh!” the writer screamed, hopping on his good foot from his den to the kitchen to get an ice pack. He accidentally tripped over his dog, lost his balance, and stumbled against the stove, flipping over a pot of boiling water that scorched his arm.
“Aiyeeeee!” the writer screamed, writhing in agony. His entire arm seared with pain, so he rushed to his car to drive himself to an emergency room. As he put the car into reverse, he saw smoke and flames from his kitchen. He had left the stove on, and somehow the kitchen had caught on fire.
“Nooooooo!” the writer screamed, leaping from his car, diving back into his house, holding his breath through the suffocating smoke, grabbing a fire extinguisher, and putting out the fire. As he almost breathed a sigh of relief (he couldn’t really breathe because of the smoke), he heard a loud crash. He had forgotten to set the emergency brake, and his car had rolled off the driveway and smashed into an old tree that hadn’t been removed yet from his lawn.
“AAAaaaaahhhhhh!” the writer screamed as he fled from his house just as the dying tree fell onto his home and crushed the roof. The fire had weakened the home’s structure, and entire house collapsed under the weight of the fallen tree.
The writer and his wife (who had been outside in the yard the whole time because she couldn’t stand to be around him when he was writing) stared at the rubble of what had been their home.
“At least now you have something to write about,” the wife said.
“I would,” the writer replied, exasperated. “But my laptop’s still in the house.”
I deleted this blog post because it was kind of stupid, and it doesn’t fit this blog’s purpose. At the time, I was experimenting with search engine algorithms (that’s a whole different topic), and I learned what I needed to learn (and I can write about that another time), but I ended up with dozens of stupid blog posts that aren’t appropriate for my blog’s purpose anymore. I’ve kept other stupid blog posts that actually are appropriate content for Dysfunctional Literacy.
A politician died and found himself in heaven (okay, you already know this isn’t a true story), but instead of being grateful, the politician demanded to speak directly to God.
“God!” the politician ranted. “You told me to run for president, and it was the worst decision in my life. I looked stupid in the debates. All my mistakes in my past were made public. I was humiliated, and my political career was turned into a national joke. How could you give me bad advice like that?”
“It is not your place to judge my advice,” God said. “When I told you to be honest, you did not listen. When I told you not to sexually harass women, you did not listen. When I told you not to accept bribes, you did not listen. When I told you not to drink, you did not listen. The only time you listened to me was when I told you to run for president.”
The politician was dejected. “I cannot believe that God lied to me,” the politician muttered, not seeing the irony in his remarks.
“I did not lie to you,” God said. “I told you to run for president. I never said that you would win.”
President Obama on The Daily Show. President Obama will never go on Red Eye. You be the judge. Image via Wikipedia
The upcoming presidential election is going to be intense. Republican candidates have been debating way too many times for far too long, and the Democrat candidate has been campaigning nonstop since 2006. With the next wave of political proliferation about to be pushed upon us, we dysfunctional literates need some relief, some levity. And for that, we turn to shows like Red Eye and The Daily Show.
The Daily Show is a political humor program on Comedy Central, a comedy network that really isn’t funny very often. Red Eye is a political humor program on Fox News, a news channel that covers a lot more opinion than news.
A lot of people claim to watch The Daily Show, but I’m not sure they do because when I ask them specific details, they can only talk about clips they saw on the internet. Nobody that I know watches Red Eye or has even heard of it (though a couple people have mentioned with disgust a really horrible movie called Red Eye, so maybe that’s why they don’t watch the show). When I mention Red Eye to people who watch Fox News, they look at me strangely, and then suddenly exclaim, “Oh, you mean THAT show.”
WHY IS DYSFUNCTIONAL LITERACY COVERING THIS?
Well, part of literacy is staying informed. And supposedly a high percentage of young people (I didn’t research the ages and percentages of these ages because I don’t do research) get their news from comedy shows such as (and maybe only from) The Daily Show.
As a dysfunctional literate (and a former college student, one who got a job right after college), I’m concerned by this. When I was a college student, I got my news from a newspaper (whippersnappers, please don’t make me explain what a newspaper is). Then, when I watched Johnny Carson (whippersnappers, don’t make me explain who Johnny Carson is) or a very young David Letterman (whippersnappers, don’t make me… aw, never mind), I understood the references that the comedians made. Even at that age, I never would have thought of getting my news from a fake news program. Then again, I knew some college students back then who would have, but they were the kind that didn’t get jobs after they graduated.
If you’re going to be misinformed by watching fake news, at least watch the best show that does it.
WHICH SHOW IS FUNNIER?
Humor is subjective, so there’s no fair and balanced way (an unfortunate choice of words) to measure it. Therefore, we have to find more concrete ways to determine which show is better.
THE STUDIO AUDIENCE
Performers need an audience, so I don’t have a problem with a live studio audience. I have a problem with the obnoxious live studio audience. Oprah’s obnoxious audience cheers (or cheered) too much to make her sound more profound than she really is. Ellen’s claps too much to make her look like a better dancer than she really is. Judge Judy’s audience giggles too much to make Judge Judy sound wiser than she really is (Yeah, I’m taking on the judge. You’re in my court room now!). And The Daily Show’s obnoxious audience laughs too much to make Jon Stewart seem funnier than he really is.
Whether you think Red Eye is funny or not, at least it doesn’t use a laugh track or a studio audience. When something is funny, it’s funny. And when the humor is flat, the host or the other guests can pile on whoever made the lame joke. And that’s pretty funny.
The Daily Show has an obnoxious studio audience. Red Eye does not have a studio audience.
FORMAT
On The Daily Show, Jon Stewart does a fake news monologue, maybe has a couple skits, and then does an interview. On Red Eye, five people sit (well, four sit and one stands) around a table and talk about current events. Then halfway through the show, another guy corrects everybody else’s mistakes (some of the mistakes are intentional). Sometimes there’s an interview or a man on the street segment.
The format favors Red Eye. When Jon Stewart is (or his comedy writers are) having an off night, The Daily Show has an off night. When Greg Gutfeld (the host of Red Eye… I guess I should mention that) has an off night (some would say every night is an off night), he has three guests and two co-hosts who can (and usually need to) save the show. Because of this, Red Eye is more consistent.
THE LEG CHAIR
If you aren’t familiar with a “leg chair,” the concept is simple. You have an attractive woman with nice legs sit in front of the camera during a panel discussion. The panelists in Red Eye are seated in semi-circle fashion around a round table, and the leg chair is the near edge of the semi-circle with the camera at an angle to allow a clear shot of a woman’s legs. It is the woman’s responsibility to have great legs and to display those great legs. Insightful or humorous commentary is a bonus but not required.
The only problem with the leg chair is that a couple of the regular leg chair guests don’t offer much in the way of leg and they don’t offer much in the way of insight or humor. I won’t name those guests because that would be tacky of me.
The Daily Show does not have a leg chair.
THE DAILY SHOW or RED EYE?
If you are a liberal, or a progressive, or ever say Faux News (and still laugh), or ever say “tea bagger” (and still laugh), or still call George Bush “shrub,” or if you agree with the political leanings of people who say such things but don’t do it yourself, then you should probably choose The Daily Show.
If you are a conservative, or ever say MSDNC (instead of MSNBC) or Communist Central (instead of Comedy Central) or call President Obama “Obummer” or “Nobama” (and still laugh), or if you agree with the political leanings of people who say such things but don’t do it yourself, then you might choose Red Eye.
If you are a moderate (yeah, you know, you’re probably not really a moderate), then choose Red Eye. It has a leg chair. And it doesn’t have an annoying studio audience. And you might think it’s funny sometimes.
A lawyer was on the phone in his office, and a client was waiting patiently next to the lawyer’s desk. While the lawyer was still talking quietly, his secretary strolled into his office. The client raised his eyebrows at this vision of beauty. She wore a tight dress which displayed ample natural cleavage and curved smoothly around her backside. She confidently placed a file on her boss’s desk, bending down a bit so that the lawyer and his client could get an eyeful.
“Thank… you,” the lawyer said, almost mechanically, not making eye contact with the secretary. “I… appreciate… all… the… competent… work… you… do.”
When the secretary left the office, the client almost commented about the lawyer’s self-restraint, but the lawyer signaled him to be quiet for another moment.
After the phone conversation was over, the client said, “Time’s have changed. A few years ago you would have said something lewd or suggestive to that babe.”
“Yeah,” the lawyer said. “But I’ve learned that sometimes I have to be careful with what I say.”
The client shook his head. “It’s that sexual harassment political correctness run amok.”
“No,” the lawyer said. “That was my wife on the phone.”
Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game by Michael Lewis
WHY I DON’T WATCH BRAD PITT MOVIES
I avoid Brad Pitt movies. Nothing against Brad Pitt. He seems to be a cool guy, and I like cool guys, but every time I see him in a movie, I think to myself “Hey, that’s Brad Pitt pretending to be an ancient Greek demi-god,” or “Hey, that’s Brad Pitt pretending to be an American commando during World War II,” or “Hey, that’s Brad Pitt pretending to be a guy helping out hurricane victims in New Orleans… Oh yeah, that’s actually Brad Pitt! That’s so cool!”
Therefore, I haven’t seen the movie version of Moneyball, so I’m judging the book on its own merits.
CAN YOU LIKE THIS BOOK AND NOT LIKE BASEBALL?
Some reviewers claim they don’t like baseball but were still fascinated by Moneyball. I don’t see how. This is a statistics analysis book with some baseball anecdotes added to support the statistics. Now, I appreciate (but don’t like) baseball, so I can enjoy the statistical side of it without getting bored. But somebody who doesn’t like or doesn’t appreciate baseball? I don’t see how.
UNANSWERED QUESTIONS FROM MONEYBALL
My biggest problem with Moneyball is that it asked a lot of philosophical questions about baseball but then didn’t use any historical perspective to answer them.
WARNING!! THIS PART MIGHT GET REALLY BORING TO PEOPLE WHO DON’T LIKE BASEBALL!!
For example, I grew up watching the St. Louis Cardinals of the 1980’s, a fast base stealing team that was built to win in a park where it was tough to hit home runs. This team “manufactured runs” in a way that Billy Beane from Moneyball would have disapproved of (“How many innings did they run themselves out of by getting caught stealing bases?” he might ask). This franchise designed to steal bases and manufacture runs went to three World Series in the 1980’s, won one (1982 against Milwaukee), got cheated out of another (1985 against Kansas City… long story) and lost another in seven games (1987 against Minnesota) because it was the American League’s turn to have home field advantage.
These Cardinals weren’t just a base stealing team. They played great defense (another trait Billy Beane thinks is overvalued), but they also probably had a great on base percentage (a trait that Billy Beane thinks is undervalued). The point is not whether Billy Beane is right or wrong because the Cardinals were great in the 1980’s (they probably had a very high payroll, but I don’t know because I don’t do research). The point is that this book would have been more fulfilling if there had been more historical perspective to it. It’s still enjoyable, but it felt incomplete.
WHY BASEBALL MAKES COOL BOOKS AND MOVIES
Baseball is considered to be a boring sport, yet baseball is the subject or backdrop to a lot of popular, non-boring movies. Bull Durham, Field of Dreams (okay, kind of boring in its non-baseball scenes), Major League (I lost count how many there are), The Natural, The Rookie, (maybe) Moneyball. How can a boring sport make for exciting movies?
It’s the pitcher-batter duel. From the stands or from your television, it can be kind of dull to watch a series of these pitcher vs. batter contests, but a movie director can take these mini-conflicts and make them very dramatic. The internal dialogue of Crash Davis while he’s batting in Bull Durham is more entertaining than a full count, bases loaded, two outs, bottom of the ninth at bat in a real baseball game. Any decent director can take this conflict and build an entire story around it, even if most of the story has nothing to do with baseball. If Major League Baseball would put microphones on baseball players so that we could hear their (profanity filled) commentary during at bats and on the base paths, television ratings would go up.
THE PURPOSE OF BASEBALL
You go to a football game to get pumped up, yell the entire game, and maybe get into a fight afterward. You go to a basketball game to be seen. But baseball, you go to a baseball game just to hang out. You grab your hot dogs and beer, sit down, and hang out for a couple hours. Maybe you get up to cheer for a couple seconds a few times a game, but during the regular season you really don’t care that much if the team wins or loses. You’re hanging out. George Will might try to romanticize baseball with a bunch of big words, but the rest of us are just hanging out.
The Baseball Codes: Beanballs, Sign Stealing, and Bench-Clearing Brawls: The Unwritten Rules of America’s Pastime by Jason Turbow
Everybody alive in the 1990’s knows what I’m talking about. It’s almost like JFK’s assassination; you know where you were when you saw it. I was at a non-sports bar, my attention on something that wasn’t baseball, when a collective gasp arose from the crowd of men and scantily clad women running around the … establishment. The overhead televisions ran replay after replay of a young punk baseball player charging Nolan Ryan and then that same young punk baseball player getting beat up by Nolan Ryan. Boy, that young punk baseball player looked stupid.
The thing is, what most people didn’t know (including me) was that there was a long chain of events beginning years before that led up to that one-sided fight. I’m not going to explain it, but the history of the Nolan Ryan/Robin Ventura fight by itself is almost worth the price of The Baseball Codes.
Okay, now that I know what really (according to the book) happened, I no longer think of Robin Ventura as a young punk baseball player. He was a reluctant fighter (for reasons explained in the book), and Nolan was a nasty old fart who probably needed to get punched out. But still, it sure was funny.
The Baseball Codes gets into the unwritten code of baseball. Why a bench clearing brawl will break out over a seemingly minor offense. When it’s okay to steal a base and when it isn’t. I’m not a baseball expert, so I wasn’t familiar with most of the anecdotes and rules. Now that I’ve read the book, I’m a little more observant when I watch the game. I won’t say it makes me like baseball, but it makes me pay closer attention during a game.
WHICH ONE (if you have to choose)?
If you don’t like baseball, or if you know nothing about baseball, read The Baseball Codes.
Moneyball is good, but Michael Lewis has made tons of money already off his books, and this one isn’t really his best one, and it looks like the movie (which I haven’t seen) makes it a feel-good story, and this book (as much as I liked it) is not a feel-good story; it’s a stats book, albeit a cool stats book. And if you don’t like baseball, you definitely don’t want to read a stats book about baseball. If you don’t like (or appreciate) baseball, you probably want to read the one that explains why fights happen.
And that would be The Baseball Codes.
Dysfunctional Literacy 