TV Shows that Deliver

Television as an artform has certainly gone through its ups and downs.  While I generally have an idealized vision of my youth, that certainly doesn't include the quality of the TV shows during the 70's.  They don't hold a candle to what's available now.  Why?

First, I think we owe a huge debt of gratitude to a trio of gentlemen: Stephen J. Cannell, David Lynch, and Chris Carter, and to a lesser extent Dick Wolf.  Stephen J. Cannell developed and produced of The Rockford Files and The A-Team, but it was his visionary work on Wiseguy that really took television in a new direction.  This series, which starred Ken Wahl as a cop very deeply under cover with the mafia, ala Donnie Brasco, refined the concept of season arcs.  Though arcs within television shows were not unheard of, Wiseguy featured complete arcs over an entire season.  A new set of villains would be featured in the second season, and yet a third set in season 3.  The story arcs within these seasons were resolved.  Within each episode there is also a central challenge for Vinnie to overcome.  It meant action packed television that rewarded viewers who watched the entire season. 

At this point, it is necessary to mention that the rise of videocassette recorders made this kind of television possible.  A person could record the episode to watch at their convenience--they didn't have to worry about missing an eposide and falling behind on the story arc.  In this way, VHS technology improved the quality of television.

Taking the next step, David Lynch in Twin Peaks offered a story arc that was really a pretext for showing the lives of a large cast of small town characters.  Its odd, quirky mix of humor and darkness created a legion of fans.  More than any other TV show, Twin Peaks brought cinematic lighting, editing and acting to the small screen.  The visuals were complex and carefully constructed.  Compare any episode of Twin Peaks with Charlies Angels, The Bionic Man or Happy Days.  The washed-out studio lighting of the latter is flat and inert.  On the other hand, Twin Peaks offered a wide range of color, from super saturated reds to almost black.  The richness of the visuals hinted at something powerful and ominous under the surface--which is a quality in all of David Lynch's film workas well.

Finally, Chris Carter took the groundwork laid by Cannell and Lynch and combined it in the X-Files.  Not only the filming techniques, but also the storytelling concepts.  Carter's first season featured stand alone episodes, but with each one, certain elements began to stick--who was that mysterious smoking man that never said anything?  What mysterious, powerful invisible forces stood in the way of Mulder's search for the "truth?"

The cinematic quality of the X-Files is also plainly evident.  Perhaps it was simply the TV studios had finally recovered from their love-affair with color television, that they permitted a darker chiaroscuro.  In some ways, X-Files feels more like a black and white show than a color show--it has the same sensibility of light and shadow.

These three series form the transition from 70's cheesecake to 80's grit to 90's noir.  There were others to be sure: The Streets of San Francisco; Law & Order; Miami Vice; NYPD Blues all come to mind.  But for sheer innovation, Wiseguy, Twin Peaks and The X-Files are peerless.

They have ushered in the 21st Century and made The Sopranos possible--which in itself is the culmination of the novel for television concept, a work of series storytelling genius.

A Period of Adjustment

Currently going through a period of adjustment with my adopted dog Molly.  Molly is a 7 year old cairn terrier who has a striking personality.  Striking in that she seems to have moods and attitudes that confound me.  Sometimes she loves going for a walk and is excited and energetic.  Other times she takes one look outside and wants to head back for the apartment.  She is disinclined to walk in the rain or upon wet ground, which is a problem in the City of Seattle.  Just wait until she encounters snow!  She has skin problems and scratches herself or rubs her back on the carpet.  She has medication for this condition which I have been giving her like clockwork.  Nancy (Janice's sister) told me that when they cut her hair very short for the summer her skin was much better.  Molly has an appointment with the groomer this weekend.  She'll be getting what we used to call "a Butch."

A butch for the bitch...

This past weekend Molly and I went up to Whidbey Island for a writing seminar.  The seminar was 7 hours long (wayyy tooooo long) and Molly got restless about halfway through.  So I unhooked her lead and let her walk around the room.  What should she do, but start grinding her hindquarters on the rug.  I'm sure you've all seen dogs do this.  One of the attendees pipes up--"she's got worms!"

Doubtful.  I researched the condition and found that it most likely is the result of obstructed anal glands.  Yes, you read correctly.  Anal glands.  Dogs have them--that's why they sniff each others' butts.  It's how they recognize each other.  When they have a good diet and such, the glands get cleared when they go poo.  But sometimes they become clogged and full and then it's like a doggy hemorrhoid. 

The solution is to express the anal glands.  Isn't that quaint?  That's the technical term: Express.  As in "freedom of expression."  One can do it oneself.  I put Molly on the counter, and tried to find them (poked around her butt for a little while) but I couldn't locate the glands.  So I took her to the vet and the technician took her into the back room and a few minutes later she came trotting out.  Federal express.  "They were pretty full" said the tech.  So hopefully that takes care of the problem. 

She was still spinning last night.  She sits down and then twirls around.  Sort of the "sit and spin" method of butt relaxation. 

But it still doesn't answer the question of why, if her butt is bothering her, does she wait until she's in a room full of strangers to begin demonstrating the fact.  Sheesh.

The Malaise of the Modern Age

Years ago I read renowned feminist critic Elaine Showalter's book Hystories (unfortunately out of print) which is utterly fascinating.  Showalter's premise is that hysterical syndromes clearly point to the hidden fears and needs of a culture.  That's important.  The hidden fears and needs of a culture.  Not of an individual.  Showalter lumped together several disparate phenomena: False memory syndrome, Satanic Ritual Abuse, Alien Abduction; and closer to reality and which caused her to be a lightening rod for vituperous criticism: chronic fatigue syndrome; Gulf War Syndrome; recovered memory of all stripes; multiple personality. All of these exemplify what Freud and Charcot would have termed "hysteria."

Although hysteria is somewhat different, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome bears an uncanny resemblance to the 19th Century diagnosis: neurasthenia.

Here's a quote from the medical record I was typing today:  "Tired all the time; don’t feel well; weak; weight problems; headache, dizziness; blurred vision; loss of vision-R. eye; double vision-L. eye – several times a week; leg pain with walking; joint pain; neck pain; low back pain; indigestion; abdominal pain; anxious; tense; irritable; trouble sleeping; sexual difficulties; nocturia; leg and feet and L. arm go numb a lot and remain numb for hours; lots of muscle spasm..."

So what's to be made of this?  Perhaps the neurasthenic is in a constant state of what John Bradshaw called "hypervigilance," and the host of physiological effects of stress find their expression in musculoskeletal strain, joint inflammation, and fascitis.  Perhaps, we are literally "tearing ourselves apart," dealing with the stress of our culture.  Perhaps this is why less freedom can feel more comfortable.  I wonder if people who live under rigid, predictable, draconic regimes have less physical pain than those who live in a democracy with its chaotic factional distress.  It would be an interesting study.

Myk van Dyk

Little motivation to work today.  Hard to get enthusastic about laboriously transcribing dozens of audio tapes that have been prepared by a paralegal dictating a person's medical records.  A good deal of fatigue this morning.  It is 10 degrees cooler, which felt pleasant.  Molly was in a mood this morning.  She was bad yesterday.  Got hold of a bag of treats (foil, with a vacuum seal) and tore it open and ate every single one. 

That's what dogs do when you're away. 

This weekend I'm scheduled to run up to Whidbey Island for a writing seminar.  I'm looking forward to that.  Involves a short ferry ride, which will be very nice on a Friday evening. 

My shingles outbreak is fading, but it still itches like I went wading in poison ivy. 

My offer on the triplex in Decorah was countered and I accepted the counteroffer, which means that we've stepped closer to a purchase.  I think now that the sale is "pending". 

The subject line "Myk van Dyk" is just a jesterly attempt at a nom d'plume. 

Sin, Sinner, Sinnest

A Texas church that promised to host a man's funeral reniged after it learned the man was gay.  Apparently it wasn't an issue until the slide show that was intended to provide a retrospective on the man's past, contained images that showed "kissing" and affection between persons of the same gender. 

"Some of those photos had very strong homosexual images of kissing and hugging," Simons told the [Dallas] Morning News. "My ministry associates were taken aback."

I thought that the Biblical proscription was limited to the act of sexual intercourse by unmarried persons of the same gender--how does hugging and kissing conflate with that?

In the end, the nondenominational church said it would not hold the funeral because Sinclair was gay, which went against High Point's doctrine. "Can you hold the event and condone the sin and compromise our principles?" Simons said ... "We can't."

Again, conflating the "sin" with the state of being--not a presumptive sinful act.  The "sin" in this case was being gay and happy and having friends.  Sufficient basis to be cursed, ridiculed and ostracised by the good conservatives among us, who want us all to be better people, and shun us when we don't measure up to their standards.  Christians?  Or is it just Texas?

Barak Obama--Too Inexperienced?

Last night on the Daily Show (rerun from the night before), Senator Biden inadvertently boosted Barak Obama's presidential campaign.  Early in his first term, President Bush asked him, as chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, to come over to the white house and brief him on Europe.  When Biden arrived the President said, "I'm going to Europe for the first time."  Biden said, "As president?"  No.  For the first time in GWB's life.

How can Barak Obama be any more inexperienced than that!

Biden recounted how confused the President was over Chancellor Schroeder, the recently elected German head of state who was a member of The Green Party.  "Why is there such friction with him?" asked the man who pulled us out of the Kyoto accord.

Although I am adverse to calling Bush an idiot, his cluelessness in this instance was idiotic.  Further evidence that Bush lives in a bubble surrounded by sycophants and cronies hand-picked by the Machine, who give him bad advice which he trusts too much.  Not stupid precisely, but certainly naive.  Obama, I feel, would be his own man.  Bush is enamoured of the mystique of being President, I think.  He likes being insulated, contemplating his place in history, crafting his image as a righteous defender of democratic liberty.  In other words, he's deluded by the very people who should be challenging him.  If he is a King, like many are saying, he's not George III, he is Richard II.

Invasion: Sci-Fi/Horror at its Best

Recently I've been watching the ABC series Invasion which went off the air in 2006.  Impressed with its creativity and its new spin on old ideas.  The "Body Snatcher" idea is one of the oldest in sci-fi, and hearkens back to folklore, in tales of doppelgangers and changelings.  This particular spin on it is truly interesting, and has provoked my contemplation and brooding long after finishing each episode. 

If you aren't familiar with the series, the "aliens" which are never presented as having technology--rather they are biological entities that attack human beings.  They look like a cross between giant orange manta rays and trilobytes.  They sieze a victim and suck out DNA material.  At this point, the creature itself, using the DNA material, metamorphose into replicas of the humans they consumed.  In one very well written episode, a botched attack results in a botched replica. 

The replicas have memories of their original lives, but they are not human and don't have, apparently, souls.  There's something hard, brittle, and coldhearted about them.  They don't have consciences.  Essentially, the replicas are sociopaths from the get-go.

There is one, however, which has been around quite a while longer than the rest, who was created after a plane crash in the Everglades (the Value Jet crash standing in).  He performs a kind of midwife role in the first season.  The second season introduces a shadow uber replicant named Zura, who is attempting to achieve a foothold in the American military. 

The interesting thing for me, what this show has made me ponder, is the nature of memory.  Clearly the replicants have the memories of the human beings they consume/devour/drain/absorb.  Memories are nerve impulses stored in our brains.  The creatures clearly absorb not only the DNA, but the neural patterns that make up their victim's memories.  That's so cool!

This is similar to a discussion of John Carpenter's The Thing, that I was reading the other day.  In that discussion, one opinion was that a person infected with the Thing did not necessarily know that they were infected.  (Norris).  The thing took them over, cell by cell, replicating each cell and neural pathway individually.  Not until the underlying Thing consciousness felt threatened, did it reveal itself, rise to the surface, and overwhelm the faux consciousness of the being it had replicated.  We see this as Dr. Copper attempts to defibrillate Norris after his heart attack.  The Thing considered the electricity an attack, and defended itself.  Up until that point, Norris was unaware that he had been transmuted into a Thing, cell by cell.

I wish I could come up with ideas this rich and cool.