I grabbed this book to discuss with a fellow reader who was reading it at the same time. I read The 50th Law (Greene’s collaboration with 50 Cent) last year and liked it. This is a completely different monster compared to that book. And a beast it is. It’s long and arduous at times.
I know, I’m a little behind the times, but I don’t watch any current dramatic, comedic, or reality TV. Period. If I turn the TV on, it’s sports. It’s that simple. I’m not out of touch though. Notice, I said current. I do watch old stuff on DVD, Netflix, or downloaded from iTunes. Every movie or TV show that I watch starting January 2011 will be listed here in the film category (for lack of a better name, I know it’s all digital). Every one.
I’ve been hearing about The Wire for a long time, mostly from a guy at one of my clients. The seriousness with which he suggested this show was compelling. He’d be like, “The Wire, now that’s the best show on TV.” And that comma, after he said “The Wire,” was a long comma. It was like he was giving the title some breathing room because it was so deserving to stand alone on the mountaintop of TV greatness. Chilling.
So I grabbed it (Seasons 1-4) at a silent auction a few year’s ago and I’m finally getting to the business of watching it.
It is friggin’ awesome. It’s a cop show + that takes place in Baltimore. I say + (pronounced plus) because it actually spends about equal time between cops, lawyers, and drug dealers. It spans the cop genre by including homicide, narcotics, beat cops, and even the FBI a little. It spans the drug dealer genre by including the distributors, the managers, the enforcers, and the junkies. And it goes beyond the illegal activities to dig into the personal and private lives of both the criminals and law enforcement. It’s an hour long soap opera style show and Season One lasts thirteen episodes.
Season One is about a special task force trying to bust a very successful drug dealer (Avon Barksdale) in the Baltimore projects. The police task force is a group of stars and misfits from various departments who are able to convince a judge to let them put wire taps on Barksdale’s crew. The cast of characters is incredible. Absolutely incredible.
The characters are so compelling that I’ve fallen into that trap of relating their character traits to things in my life. I’ll ask, what would McNulty do? How can I bring Kima’s passion to this gig? And I notice others doing this. Heck, you can’t tell me that Jason Whitlock (a huge fan of The Wire) didn’t find some inspiration in McNulty’s “disdain for authority” when he left the Kansas City Star last year. Another example, I was at a friend’s house the other night and he casually referenced a character. I’m telling you, they suck you in.
Season One ends with a big bust of much of Barksdale’s crew. Stringer is now running the show while Barksdale is in prison. McNulty got transferred out of homicide and is working harbor patrol. Kima looks like she’ll recover from the bullet wound and I think Lt. Daniels is back in narcotics. Freamon is working homicide and I think he is partnering up with Bunk. I’m not sure what happened to DeAngelo, I couldn’t tell if he went into witness protection or prison. I’m getting Season Two rolling soon.
I’ve read one James Lee Burke novel per year for the last four years. I’m planning on reading a few more this year because I have the next three stacked up in a pile in paperback form (his early stuff was not on the Kindle the last time I checked). They’re going to be easy to grab and blast through. I love Burke’s writing and his main character is great fun.
** PLOT KILLERS ARE INEVITABLE **
At a certain point, I thought that the main character, Dave Robicheaux, had achieved a little bit of stability. But in the last few pages, he announces that he’s taking an indefinite leave from the New Iberia (Louisiana) sheriff’s office. We were so close to getting through a whole book without him leaving some law enforcement agency (reference my comments on his last book).
Once again, I’m joking. Burke sticks to the formula and I like it. Robicheaux gets embroiled in another sordid affair with some thugs who come dangerously close to hurting his family. His adopted daughter is growing up and he’s remarried to a childhood sweetheart, who has some sort of disease. The bait shop is thriving and he has a few emotional moments with Batist, the guy who runs the shop. I kind of wish Batist figured into things a little more, I have a feeling he will in the future.
In my take on the last book, I quoted an awesome description of some of the demons inside Robicheaux. I’ll continue that trend. Early on Robicheaux has this thought about a potential victim:
I wanted to write it all off and leave Weldon to his false pride and private army of demons, whatever they were, and not spend time trying to help somebody who didn’t want any interference in his life. But if other people had had the same attitude toward me, I had to remind myself, I would be dead, in a mental institution, or putting together enough change and crumpled one-dollar bills in a sunrise bar to buy a double shot of Beam, with a frosted schooner of Jax on the side, in the vain hope that somehow that shuddering rush of heat and amber light through my body would finally cook into ashes every snake and centipede writhing inside me. (Page 17, paperback version)
The guy has demons for sure but did not drink at all this book. He attended a couple of AA meetings and seems to have things under control. Great stuff once again. The next one is queued up. I’ll do better than one Burke this year for sure.
I’m dumb.
I bought this mostly because the Grammy Awards were coming up. Plus, it was only $7.99 on iTunes. That seems less expensive than usual, especially for 16 songs with decent lengths. And finally, they’re Canadian, like The RAA. So it had a lot of things going for it.
I’m not quite sure why the last two full albums I’ve purchased are by primarily Canadian bands with similar themes. With titles like Hometowns and The Suburbs I could be convinced that ruminating about urban, suburban, and prairie landscapes in a melancholic manner is common amongst our northern neighbors. I joke, there are plenty of differences between these two groups. Namely, while The RAA is only three people, Arcade Fire has at least seven people and they throw in a wider range of stringed instruments and keyboards. And while my feeble brain classifies both groups in the rock/alt-rock genre, many critics give Arcade Fire the further classification of art-rock.
I’m on board with that art-rock thing. If you saw Month of May and Ready to Start at the Grammy Awards you probably noticed the multiple drummers, varied background vocals, violins, and a bullhorn. Lotta stuff going on. Both tracks are loud and fast-paced, more so, I think, than most of the other 14 songs on the album. Ready to Start is their hit and it’s a great tune.
The title track, The Suburbs, is filled with a lot of teen angst, especially if you pair it with the video. Seems like Spike Jonze collaborated on the video or just made it and used their music. Not sure. But for the lyrics, this isn’t a bad song. I say so because I’m a little past lyrics with angst; I much prefer anger. But I like the clear vocals and the keyboards and the chorus.
There are a couple songs with primarily female vocals that are good. Empty Room is a short song that has a short, repetitive, male/female duet (mostly female). Sprawl II is the longest song with an 80s pop-style (Blondie-ish) feel and a little electronica tossed in.
Also with an 80s feel, but more rock-like, is City With No Children, which has some heavy background guitar and a mellow male lead. Modern Man has the same type of mellow male lead vocals. Is that even a music description? Regardless, they’re both good songs and don’t feel very alternative.
They seem to mix up the genres a lot. There is one song, Suburban War, that starts out with a 70s style guitar riff that stays there for the first third. Then it transitions into more standard, modern alt-rock, then back again. It’s really cool.
I like the album. I’ll listen to it a lot this year I think. It’s big, 16 big songs, with a lot of variability in style and a bunch of different instruments. I’ve talked myself into liking this album for more reasons than one. It makes sense that they rocked the Grammy Awards. Fire up!
Well, it’s over. I just watched this one on Netflix, so all three books and all three movies are behind me, done, finito. I can now get back to normal life. That is, at least until the American version of the TGWTDT comes out at the end of this year.
I don’t know, for some reason these books and movies just grabbed me. In the course of about 12 months, I consumed them all and was never disappointed. This movie wrapped things up nicely and the deviations from the book worked well. As with the books, I think the first movie was best and the third movie (this one) was the second best.
This Noomi Rapace person was so perfect as Salander it’s scary. Rooney Mara has some big shoes to fill. I’ll be careful to go in to the America version with no pre-conceptions though. One thing is for sure, you’re going to be able to tell who your film snob friends are. They will be the ones who say, “Oh, the Swedish version was so much better.” Tell them to shut up. These are the same friends who say things like, “Guiness tastes so much better in Ireland,” and, “I only eat crab if I’m overlooking the Chesapeake Bay.” I will unfriend anyone on Facebook who pulls this film snobbery.
It’s got recency going for it, but for me, I can’t think of another pop-cultural phenomenon that I’ve embraced like this in the last ten years. I’ll have to think about that. Hmmm. But that’s why I’m keeping this blog, so I can reflect on my pop-culture consumption.
Great movie(s) and great books. Feel free to get sucked in to them.
I’m under the full realization that my media consumption is very male-centric. Most of the authors, lead singers, directors, and main characters of stuff I like are guys. I’m not sure what this says about me. But I’m trying to branch out.
However, when I branch out with stuff like Alanis Morrissette, Grafton/Millhone, and Salander, I notice that the women are usually pretty angry and/or independent. So, digging a little deeper, what does that say about me? It sounds like I’m afraid to go full blast into the Lifetime Network and Oprah. Or maybe I’m just normal. Heck, maybe this thought exercise is occurring because I’m just generally uncomfortable with the fact that this haunting melody (cliche alert!) by Christina Perri was purchased on the heels of another single by a female artist.
Well, let’s get off that and move on to the tune. Not sure who this woman is and where she came from. I heard this song on the same stretch of I-20 in Georgia that I mentioned in Moment 4 Life and I bought it when I got home. I actually purchased it while sitting in our kitchen doing some DJ while Gail cooked (which I helps me get out of doing dishes if I spin some good tunes). I sense some anger in this woman and I like that. Sounds like she’s mad at some dude who dumped her. She says, “Don’t come back at all.” It’s a pretty spare song, mostly vocals and piano, with some background strings or electric keyboards of some sort. Pretty cool. No risk of me getting album though.
I mentioned last year how I was inspired by The Company of Strangers to read more spy novels. Well, here I am, reading some John le Carre, the rock star spy novel writer. It was about thirty years ago when I picked up either Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy or Little Drummer Girl (can’t recall exactly), and tossed it after a couple of days because it was too slow. Those were the Ludlum years for me and I needed more killing and car chases than le Carre usually provided. Oh, how old age changes us. Now I’m becoming a big fan of the spy novel.
This book is the story of two innocent Brits, a Russian mobster, and a few roguishly likable members of British Intelligence. The innocents are tossed into the spy game when the Russian mobster requests their assistance for defecting after a chance meeting while vacationing in Antigua. The innocents turn to British Intelligence for help and get hooked up with handlers who work for a “special projects” division.
A fairly sized portion of the story is recalled in a light interrogation of the two innocent Brits by British Intel. It dominates maybe the first third of the book and takes place in the basement of a nondescript house which doubles as the office for this special projects division. It’s mostly told through the perspective of the female innocent Gail, the deepest character in the book. I think that may be a hallmark of le Carre, strong and thoughtful female characters, judging from a few of the movies I’ve seen. Now that I think of it, this is the only le Carre book I’ve ever finished. Anyway, this retrospective format is at times confusing to follow, but it’s a great format for getting to know Gail.
** PLOT KILLERS **
After this, there is a big chunk of back story on the crew from British Intelligence, mostly told through the eyes of the number two guy, Luke. It dominates big chunks of the second third of the book (this could be a three act play). Luke is flawed with hints of a dark side, but in the end was the consummate professional. This section was deliberate and mysterious. That’s a spy novel and that’s le Carre. I can see how I got frustrated as a youngster. There is a lot of personal back story type of stuff that thriller writers leave out. Spy novelists seem a little more spare on the crackling dialogue and action sequences. I knew this going in and liked it.
Things get intense in the last third when the civilians get to Paris (with British Intelligence nearby) for the meet-up with the Russian mobster and potential defection of his entire extended family. The reader needs the first two thirds of the book to understand what is going on in the minds of the characters. That’s why the last third, the real time action sequence, so to speak, is so good. There aren’t gunfights, chases, and brawls, but there is a very detailed caper and suspenseful aftermath. And you get to feel it through the minds of a large number of the characters. Great ride.
The ending really rocked me. Not necessarily in a good way, but not in a bad way either. It was abrupt. Probably as abrupt as any I’ve experienced in my history of reading fiction. It effectively resolved nothing, nada, zero. I’m not saying it was bad, I’m saying it didn’t put everything in a nice package with a bow and hand it to you – in fact, it didn’t even get to the point of buying wrapping paper and some ribbon. But I accept the ending. I’m comfortable ruminating on what could have happened rather than knowing exactly what did happen.
Bring on some more le Carre.
Kanye has some pivotal stuff on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy with Nicki Minaj and it’s pretty cool (she goes nuts in the song Monster, wow). So I was a little familiar with her music, but I never really entertained grabbing any of her stuff. Then I heard this song.
Let me digress for a moment, some of my best music discovery occurs during long car drives when I’m by myself. I just scan through the channels and try and find songs I like. There has been one particular region of the country that has been especially bountiful because I have to travel there for work, it’s the stretch of I-20 between Atlanta, GA and Augusta, GA (130 miles). In fact, one of the most pivotal music experiences of my life happend there – I heard Paranoid by Kanye West, which led to 808s and Heartbreaks, which led to Kanye’s whole catalog, which led to a more-than-passing interest in hip-hop and wrap. Go figure.
It was on this same stretch of road a few weeks that I heard Moment 4 Life by Nicki Minaj and Drake and I really liked it. Her opening stanza is an awesome, profanity-free, motivational poem that ends with, “greatness is what we on the brink of.” After the chorus, Drake chimes in with standard male wrap stuff, plenty of the n-word and f-word. It’s not bad. He ends his portion with, “everybody dies but not everybody lives” before Minaj kicks in with the chorus.
It’s on Minaj’s album Pink, which I’m batting around getting, but I’m not ready to take the leap.
This may be the first book I’ve read that was written by a so-called mystic. I’m not even sure what a mystic is. I checked out some wiki thoughts on mysticism and without twisting things too much, I think we can assume that a mystic is some sort of spiritual leader who is usually not validated by any of the mainstream religions.