Emotional "Afterlife" Video Blends Grief, Culture, Socioeconomic, Family & Generational Divides

As an Arcade Fire fan, I'm a bit on the fence about their fourth album, the dance-techno-heavy "Reflektor." But this video for "Afterlife" represents a welcome alteration to the traditional music video medium, electing for a short-movie approach that both complements and extends the song itself.

Meandering “All That Is” Lacks Substantiality to Reinforce Salter’s Pretty Prose

“There comes a time when you

realize that everything is a dream,

and only those things preserved in writing

have any possibility of being real.”

“All That Is” landed on my desk preceded by author James Salter’s reputation for smooth prose. And while that proved to be true, I found my reading of it compromised by the confusion and aloofness that riddled the story itself.

Overall, the book was a bit of a plod, making it a lengthy read. The prose featured long, rhythmic sentences, with Salter taking the time to share in-depth character sketching even on supposedly minor characters with bit roles. There were some harrowing and creepy plotlines, with some incestuous leanings thrown in for bad measure.

As well, there were some confusing pronoun use and context problems, not to mention some unexpected, matter-of-fact vulgarity that can catch the reader off-guard. Some of these passages dwelled so long on the act that they entered into awkward and uncomfortable territory. There were also shifts in perspective that were quite sudden and arresting, picking up various strains of personal stories that go off on seemingly unrelated tangents.

The most problematic difficulty I encountered, however, was the lack of access into Bowman’s mindset. As his life unfolds, there is a pervasive sense that life is just occurring all around him, while we’re given no insight into how he feels or what he desires. This approach is understandable in some ways, yet I feel the story would have felt more personal and genuine with a few of these look-ins.

Bowman seems content to glide through life as a jaded, bit player at a publishing house. He cheats and is cheated on; he lies and is lied to. The book began with some intense battle imagery, but Bowman quickly journeys from war hero to antihero, bottoming out when he gets back at one girlfriend who essentially stole his house from him by smoking hash with and date-raping her 30-years-younger daughter.

This episode points up a running theme from Salter within this book: that women are seen as things to be conquered. While this level of chauvinism may be reflective of the era in which the book is set, it can be problematic when combined by the gulf and distance between the reader and the main character.

“The great hunger of the past was for food, there was never enough food and the majority of people were undernourished or starving, but the new hunger was for sex, there was the same specter of famine without it.”

“He loved her for not only what she was but what she might be, the idea that she might be otherwise did not occur to him or did not matter. Why would it occur? When you love you see a future according to your dreams.”

“‘We’re in the middle of the woman thing. They want equality, in work, marriage, everywhere. They don’t want to be desired unless they feel like it ... The thing is, they want a life like ours. We both can’t have a life like ours.’”

“She was lively and wanted to talk, like a wind-up doll, a little doll that also did sex. Kitty was her name.”

Which brings up the question: Are we supposed to like him? He’s some weird combination of Don Draper and Biff Loman, but his likeability is mitigated by lack of explanation, a dearth of details surrounding the whys of his decisions.

You get the sense that the book is ostensibly supposed to be about finding meaning and love, but this theme is diminished by the detachment of Bowman’s feelings. By the time thoughts of mortality begin to enter the equation toward the end of the book, it is almost too late. By that point, the distance Bowman has created between himself and not just society, but by extension, the audience, is too difficult to overcome—as evidenced in the below quote.

“Suddenly, everything had fallen away. He had felt himself above other people, knowing more than they did, even pitying them. He was not related to other people—his life was another kind of life. He had invented it.”

Salter saves his best for last, with some beautiful prose at the book’s end, which does battle with a difficult-to-overcome lack of substantiality in Bowman and his chosen life. His transitory existence involves going from hotel to restaurant to party, with nothing of substance to ground him. This decision may be all part of character building, but it left at least one reader yearning to know more, to understand better.

Bowman is seduced by the allure, eroticism and promises of Manhattan (“It was like a dream, trying to imagine it all, the windows and entire floors that never went dark, the world you wanted to be in.”), yet his ephemeral existence doesn’t allow him the permanence to achieve—or really, pursue—any true goals. Or, for that matter, repercussions.

The story may have benefited more by peeling back the layers of emotions that cover Bowman. While Salter’s depictions of courtship and marriage are largely overhung with a sense of doom and impending failure, we are given occasional glimpses into Bowman’s true feelings about losing Vivian, of feeling betrayed—mostly of his own doing—by a steady line of women.

“He lay there unwillingly and sleepless, the city itself, dark and glittering, seemed empty. The same couple, the same bed, yet now not the same.”

“How did it happen, that something no longer mattered, that it had been judged inessential?”

“He saw them now for what they were and had been, the great days of love.”

Bowman seems to possess a quiet desperation that is more hinted at than revealed. It’s also possible that his lack of a father figure—not to mention his borderline-disturbing relationship with his mother—tainted his dealings with women.

“At a certain point also you began to feel that you knew everyone, there was no one new, and you were going to spend the rest of your life among familiar people, women especially.”

At the end of the day, I felt “All That Is” was somehow diminished by its lack of perspective and its disjointed nature. In addition to issues with how often it jumped around, it was hard to reconcile Bowman’s journey from war hero to douche due to the lack of insight we are offered into his thought process. Also, gender-expectation concerns aside, eroticism vs. creepiness can be a difficult balance to pull off decently, and I thought Salter struggled there.

It’s hard to ignore the brilliance in some of Salter’s writing, but for me, the seeming aimlessness and oddity of the story outweighed the prose in dragging down a promising novel.

“The power of the novel in the nation’s culture had weakened. It had happened gradually. It was something everyone recognized and ignored. All went on exactly as before, that was the beauty of it. The glory had faded but fresh faces kept appearing, wanting to be part of it, to be in publishing which had retained a suggestion of elegance like a pair of beautiful, bone-shined shoes owned by a bankrupt man.”

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXIV: A Half-Century Since My Mom’s Hero Passed, Plus An Emotional Farewell On “Person Of Interest”

50 years have passed

Since the nation left aghast

Hate won out in Texas

A killing that continues to hex us

Thoughts of what might have been last

A WTF loss for hoops

In football, playing like poops

Tough times in Raleigh

Head shaking and murmurs of “gollee”

Hope Pack Nation can regroups

Dan Dierdorf leaving? Great

Cliché after cliché he did state

The “Master of the Obvious” retiring

Miss his bloviating and perspiring

Just about 15 years too late

Behind him the ‘Noles did rally

Frat Fred and Sorority Sally

They crowned him as famous

The now-infamous Jameis

Some type of fraud continues in Tally

Intensity and emotions bared

An unexpected kiss shared

John’s job just got harder

With shocking murder of Carter

“Person of Interest” made us care

Last time …

Be Nicer To Yourself

Slow clap, Dove.

Slow clap.

The Undefeated Dolphins, A Role Model, A Bygone Era, And Even Making Glasses Cool (& Easy): Griese’s “Perfection” Had It All

“Over the years, people have asked what made our team special, and I can’t offer a secret or a magic pill or a motivational catchphrase. I return to the same themes: we had Hall of Fame talent and coaching, and we had forty players on the roster in proper roles, who accepted those roles and who made winning plays from those roles every week.”

“[Shula] demanded that he we be the team we thought we were.”

Flash back some 30-(ahem)-plus years, and I’m 8 years old, told I have to start wearing glasses and none too happy about it. I’m told the story of one Bob Griese, who not only wears glasses, but played quarterback in the NFL for the freaking Miami Dolphins while wearing glasses, and even better, was one of the league’s very best. Suddenly, wearing glasses is OK. Suddenly, Bob Griese is my hero. Suddenly, the Miami Dolphins are my team.

Not so suddenly, I’m in for a lifetime of fandom heartache. But that’s a story for another day.

My Dad had attended grad school at Purdue, the alma mater of one Bob Griese, so there was already a connection there. Throw in the fact that he wore glasses and looked like a scientist out there using his mind to bend 300-pounders to his will, and I was on board. Then a “Cool ‘N’ Easy Bob Griese” shirt was presented to me, which I proceeded to wear roughly 629 days in a row.

By way of prelude, this is not a fast segue into the fact that I recently read Griese’s book, “Perfection: The Inside Story of the 1972 Miami Dolphins’ Perfect Season.” The quarterback-turned-announcer wrote it with my favorite sportswriters, Dave Hyde of the Ft. Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel, making this work a marriage of a few of my favorite things.

Forty years later, Griese took us back to a time when players actually had offseason jobs, when coach “The” Don Shula essentially invented situational substitution, when quarterbacks were seasoned on the vine and painstakingly developed, when drafts were afterthoughts, and when a lack of media obsession allowed teams  to create rosters chock full of insane personalities and crazed characters.

“What did everyone say about Shula? That he had a high tolerance for another man’s pain?”

Before Griese and Shula arrived, the Dolphins were a bumbling expansion team, operating in the equivalent of an NFL outpost, largely ignored by its hometown. Within a few short years, Griese was being propositioned by actresses in his role as an offseason realtor (an anecdote that started the book on a rip-roaring note) and the Orange Bowl had become arguably the biggest home-field advantage in the league.

“In my first few years in Miami, pro football was background music in a resort town ... Then Don Shula arrived as coach, and everything changed overnight. He showed how one person can change the entire dynamic of a team.”

“By 1973, we had that many season-ticket holders—the most ever for a pro sports franchise—and the publisher of Sports Illustrated wrote, ‘Possibly no city in the United States is as maniacal about one team as is Miami about the Dolphins.’”

From there, Griese goes on to share harrowing, oft-hard-to-read tales of the utter disregard players had for their own health (players referred to the local hospital as the “Mercy Hilton,” they spent so much time there), how that disregard has destroyed quality of life for so many of his ex-teammates, the prevalent usage of uppers and stimulants, and the evolution of race relations within the team and league dynamic.

“There was this locker-room culture that pain was negotiable but victory was everlasting.”

On a personal level, Griese explained the scientific approach he took to quarterbacking, a tact he took primarily due to the lack of coaching he received early in his Dolphins tenure. He wrote about going to each member of the offense for input into the gameplan (rare at that time), and how his always-underrated athleticism allowed him to survive the disastrous early years. He touched on how much scouting has evolved, how offensive and defensive coaches actually used to work together, how Steve Spurrier’s off-putting personality played a role in Griese landing in Miami, how mercurial GM Joe Thomas put his stamp on the Dolphins, and how Bill Arnsparger helped to change the entire landscape of defensive football by creating the launch point for zone-blitz schemes out of necessity.

“In Arnsparger’s eleven Dolphins seasons with Don Shula, the Dolphins’ defense ranked first or second in the league nine times.”

“Every bit as close to a genius in his field as Einstein was in his,” Buoniconti added.

He told incredible tales of the drunken visionary, owner Joe Robbie, who was once found passed out in the closet of the owner’s box; the lawyerly linebacker, Nick “Boo” Buoniconti; and the detailed offensive line coach Monte Clark, who painstakingly put together a great line from scratch and unheralded, overlooked players, then entertained everyone with colorful one-liners:

“Sympathy,” he’d tell anyone making an excuse, “could be found in the dictionary between ‘shit’ and ‘syphilis.’”

“‘The Mushroom,’ Monte Clark began calling this rebuilt offensive line, because its players ‘sat in the dark and ate shit,’ as he said.”

He also wrote extensively about offensive coordinator Howard Schellenberger, who essentially took a hands-off approach, allowing Griese to run the entire offense by himself; quiet-yet-spectacular wideout Paul Warfield, with whom Griese had an uncanny synchronicity; and the unlikely tandem of Larry Csonka (who once knocked three New York Jets defenders out of a single game by himself) and Jim Kiick, bruising running backs who were as punishing off the field as on (“Kiick and Csonka,” an anonymous AFC coach told Sports Illustrated before the 1972 season. “You can’t spell ‘em and you can’t stop ‘em.”).

“Players sat in film sessions each week, watched him purposely run into opposing defenders, and joked, ‘Way to find the safety, Zonk!’”

“When he goes on a safari,” line coach Monte Clark said, “the lions roll up their windows.”

The signal-caller also offered insights into the cheap pursuit of individual records by O.J. Simpson and the Buffalo Bills:

“Down 17-0 in the fourth quarter, Buffalo kept handing the ball to Simpson. He was committing the team sin of lifting one player’s goals above the day’s mission statement of winning. The Bills, after all, discussed openly the hope of Simpson breaking the NFL’s single-season rushing record. He would that season, too. He gained 2,003 yards. But at what expense?

“You assholes!” Buoniconti yelled across the line.

“When Simpson crossed the 100-yard barrier, the Bills actually began to celebrate on the field.

“You stupid bastard,” Fernandez shouted to guard Reggie McKenzie. “Look at the scoreboard!”

Griese also wrote openly and bravely about the broken leg he suffered during the course of the season, an injury that resulted in lineman Norm Evans—who mistakenly thought he missed the block that got Griese hurt—standing along a highway in tears, saying, “I cost us the season.” That emotion demonstrated the bond on the team and what they felt they owed one another, paving the way for vastly underrated quarterback Earl Morrall to carry the torch in Griese’s lengthy absence.

The understated Griese even shared the inevitably that came along with the Super Bowl against a vastly overmatched Washington Redskins team: “As I reviewed the plays, there was no doubt in my mind that we would win this game. And win it easily ... I said little reporters all week. But inside, I swaggered.”

“In the locker room ... no one talked of the undefeated season. It was the title we cherished. The ring. This moment when we were the best.”

Griese and Hyde set the story against the backdrop of each game of the 1972 season, crafting a compelling narrative that allows the freedom to tie a number of issues into the storyline. The format works, putting the actual games well into the background while allowing the inside view of life on the best team in the NFL to carry the day. There were a few grammatical errors along the way, but the clean writing, natural flow and engrossing tales combined to create one of the best sports books I have ever read. Well, I guess the subject matter didn’t hurt for an admitted Miami Dolphins fan (which is much harder to admit to these days than it was 40 years ago).

For a kid who didn’t want to wear glasses and then found a role model in Bob Griese, this was a book that transported me back quite a few years. “Four decades later, I still hear those cheers,” wrote Griese.

And so many years later, I’m still grateful for the privilege of being among those cheering.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXIII: Douchebag The Hutt Haunts Toronto, Plus Dolphins Press Self-Destruct Button

A crackhead bottomless pit

And a fat piece of shit

This is Toronto’s mayor

Hate to be a taxpayer

Rob Ford is Canada’s latest zit

Close losses rule the day

Five in a row, though? Oy vey

Of the QBs, I do warn

They can’t hit the side of a barn

Can the Pack finish and find a way?

Fantasy football, what the hail

Every year without fail

Favored by 40, but no luck

Leaves me sayin’ what the f%$k

It’s inevitable, but I won’t bail

Night is coming much quicker

Flu season makes everyone sicker

The holidays quickly approaching

Spirits, they are encroaching

Need lotsa eggnog with liquor

 

A team without an identity or star

From relevance, the franchise is far

The Dolphins are a laughingstock

Very easy to bash and mock

Rock bottom? Oh, there you are

Last time …

Somewhere Only We Know

Apparently, this John Lewis advert is all the rage among my British colleagues this week.

Merry holidays ...

The Humanity Zone

For a game under siege, a timely reminder of what it could and is supposed to be ...

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXII: Rock Bottom Gets Even Stranger For ‘Fins, Plus Stretch Run Upon Us In FF

The problems, they’re a bundlin’

So this is what the ‘Fins are fundin’

A ‘roid ‘neck bullying the lame

A douche subpoenaed post-game

Leadership? Hell, send the team to London

Unoriginality ruled the day

Then EZU tried to enter the fray

An afterthought bonding with the Heels

Over cheating and being hurt in the feels

It’s Duke’s state anyway

Twitter went IPO

How high would it go?

Once a 140-character joke

Now makes you rich or broke

Can’t ignore it anymore, yo

State season off the tracks, dear

Can’t throw, that’s pretty clear

A trap game for Duke?

Makes me wanna puke

How the F did we get here?!

Shrewd moves, many made

Bolstered by the occasional trade

Assembled a contender

Hope not a pretender

Let’s just avoid a late-season fade ...

Last time …

Deep Thoughts By No-Look McFadden: Episode 69

#1

OK, yeah, so I could totally buy this assessment of Ohio State fans ...

#2

I think I have to agree with Sean Wilentz of Rolling Stone, who wrote this about the de-evolution of journalism, which echoes some of what the TV show “Newsroom” tries to depict:

“At some point over the past 40 years, the bedrock principle of journalistic objectivity became twisted into the craven idea of false equivalency, whereby blatant falsehoods get reported simply as one side of an argument and receive equal weight with the reported argument of the other side.

“There is no shortage of explanations for the press’s abdication: intimidation at the rise of Fox News and other propaganda operations; a deep confusion about the difference between hard-won objectivity and a lazy, counterfeit neutrality; and the poisonous effects of the postmodern axiom that truth, especially in politics, is a relative thing, depending on your perspective in a tweet. Whatever the explanation, today’s journalism has trashed the tradition of fearless, factual reporting pioneered by Walter Lippmann, Edward R. Murrow and Anthony Lewis.”

#3

When the whining around what color the grass is painted at midfield is more strenuously contested than the actual game, you know you’re watching college football in North Carolina.

#4

If you’re a true “Seinfeld” fan, I defy you to pronounce Roy Helu’s name without thinking of this “Seinfeld” episode.

#5

I don’t know who Ruby is, but she had a rather awesome “Star Wars” party.

#6

Most of life/the world is rigged. Accepting that and just trying your best would appear to be a big part of finding happiness.

#7

I often wonder what we’d do without the insights gleaned from science: A study indicated that men really do ogle women’s bodies. Also, this:

“Those bodies with larger breasts, narrower waists and bigger hips often prompted longer looks.”

Science at its most essential right here, folks.

#8

Watching “Legendary Nights” documentary about Arturo Gatti and Mickey Ward, I gained a newfound respect for Jim Lampley, a guy I had a hard time embracing as a commentator. Lampley was openly weeping when talking about Round 9 of Gatti-Ward I, to be followed in tears by Larry Merchant, the referee and essentially everyone involved in this emotional piece.

#9

To those who struggle with leaving the wee ones behind every morning, “The Lamentof the Working Parent” rings both true and timely ...

#10

I think Robert Kirkman of the “The Walking Dead” hit the nail on the head on our society in this Rolling Stone interview:

“A hundred years ago, we were living in houses we built, growing food we ate, interacting with our families. That’s a life that makes sense. Now, we’re doing jobs we don’t enjoy to buy stuff we don’t need. We’ve screwed things up.”

Useful “Minimalist Parenting” Would Have Benefited From Some Subtle Tweaks

Having recently reached a milestone birthday, nothing cemented my crash landing into middle-aged-dom more than my voluntary decision to purchase and read “Minimalist Parenting,” by Christine Koh and Asha Dornfest.

After checking my family jewels gender identity at the door, I embarked on this book, which was billed as a way to “enjoy modern family life more by doing less.” Which, I must admit, is a rather compelling idea.

This work suffered from a lack of art and pictures, and with so much copy staring at you, it came across as dense in areas. However, it did contain some good advice and tips—in particular, some cool apps I hadn’t heard of—and did offer tons o’ resources.

The humorous tone of my intro notwithstanding, though, I did find the book to be a bit exclusionary, in the sense that it spoke directly to women. Which is not completely surprising, of course, but I found it a bit short-sighted when placed in the context of the goal of the book.

That being said, the messages of being inundated with too many choices and obligations, optimizing your life, eliminating the unnecessary, and clarifying what value and priority means to you certainly hit the mark. Faced with a dearth of quality time already, it’s hard not to remember one of the lessons of Ferris Bueller: “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

From decluttering to retirement plans to time-saving tricks, “Minimalist Parenting” achieved a pretty good balance between useful direction and New Age-y validation. While it could have been improved with more inclusive language and more welcoming design elements, this book was worth the read for a parent seeking honest self-improvement and a more rewarding home life.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXI: More Brody, Less Dana, Plus Wake Grants A Franchise Reprieve

“Homeland” is wounded and bleedin’

More action, it’s needin’

No Brody, I can’t explain-a

But please, no more Dana

I’m beggin’ and pleadin’

Another disappointing story

About fading McIlroy, Rory

Trying to silence a Tiger critic

About cheating and being a cynic

Pick a better role model for glory

The roof it does leak

Week upon week

Like the talent drain

A company in pain

In case it’s symbolism you seek

Four years have passed

So make memories last

Yesterday, you were tiny Ube

Today, you’ve made a Dad out of me

Bless us, the time goes fast

Up went a collective grown

As another big lead blown

So much at stake

Enter Cam Wake

Won the game and threw Philbin a bone

Last time …