Size Does Matter

A poster has recently been created for a new exhibition at the Winnipeg Museum. Its bright bubbly lettering and images of cartoon dinosaurs beckon children of all ages to come and learn of one of earth's greatest mysteries. Scrawled across the top of the poster larger than any other text is one of the most foolish phrases ever moved beyond the scope of its original context and audience: "Size Does Matter!". What is the meaning of this expression in this context? Is an 8 year old supposed to read this advertisement as "Hey kid, in the same way the fact that people tell you the size of your penis is not necessarily correlated to the amount of pleasure you can dispense during intercourse and its NOT true, when it comes to the course of the natural history of the planet and the ability of animals to live, hunt, eat, die, and eventually fascinate you on a cold Saturday afternoon downtown with your parents, "Size Does Matter!".

Do not confuse the critique of the use of this expression with a diatribe on the downward spiral of morals in society. It is not the vulgarity of the statement that offends me. Rather it is the fact that the advertising agency lucky enough to win the contract from the Government of Manitoba has come up with this poster and if ever questioned will realize they have absolutely NO idea what exactly it is supposed to mean when presented to children. Their defense of using this phrase would be something to the effected of "It's just a saying.". When I pointed out the fact that the poster was not called for, the conversation went something like this:

Me: That poster is ridiculous.
Friend: Why? Size Does Matter?
Me: Yes, they're talking about dicks.
Friend: Oh yeah. That IS ridiculous.

What we observe here is a disconnect between meaning and expression and it's easy to see how this happens. It happens when a phrase used more in reflection (see: "double entendre") than in it's original meaning. When this phrase was first used as a pun, no doubt it was for a specific audience that never included children. There was a very large "wink wink" that was understood by the audience making it successful and memorable. Alas, with each use the wink becomes smaller and smaller until collectively we don't even know what was originally so funny and memorable in the first place. If one were to Google "Size Does Matter" you will observe that every advertisement, article, and blog entry that uses this phrase is doing so as a double entendre instead of a reference to actual penis size.
When the equivoque of a phrase is emphasized and comes to be used more than its original meaning is when a language deteriorates into what some modern English has become. (Granted I am big fan of Cockney and modern Ebonics, but the difference in this case is that the speakers of these are in on joke. They speak with intention and are self aware.)
There are many other phrases and ideas for which original meanings have been lost in the miasma of pop culture and whose new meanings really mean nothing at all. Another suitable example could be something like saying "Yeah Baby" like Austin Powers. Most 15-20 year olds who know these movies have never experienced the dry humor of Roger Moore and will never understand why Mike Meyers found this character funny, but they will still repeat it simply because it sounds "silly". It's just a saying.

Surely this is one indication of a culture without a sense of identity and no memory to speak of.

Vegan Earth-Mother Karma Kakes: $16.99 (plus tax)

There's always been something just a little off for me when it comes to the Winnipeg Folk Fest. And after trying to formulate a snappy, original, concise statement about what it is, the best thing I can come up with is a paltry "ignorance is bliss".

The Fest is the ultimate modern cultural experience. It takes very little investment from the consumer, and by investment I mean a surface thin commitment to the espoused values of the fest. You don't need need to quit your job and drive across the country in a love wagon. I mean really, who gets that much time off these days! In fact for the low low price of your weekend and $200 you get a little slice of Woodstock(tm) you can fit in your pocket for your fast paced modern lifestyle. Frat boys, you can bring your weed purchased through channels that promote gang violence: there's a gonna be young hippie chicks looking for dope and company! And for all you office workers in office land, it's a good chance for a weekend outside closer to home instead of going to the lake. Plus Jenny in accounting is gonna flip when you tell her you talked to someone with a real Jamaican accent!

Despite my preceding observations, I still think the Fest is a good thing and is better happening than not. I just don't like it when things are taken beyond their original context into a space where they don't belong. I've read somewhere that we are the generation that never realized "You've Gotta Fight For Your Right To Party" was a joke. What was originally written as a commentary of the state of music at the time became the anthem of those it intended to make fun of. The same has happened with the hippie festival of the 1960's and the result is going on this weekend at Bird's Hill Park.

But wait a minute Gary, how can you make all these judgements if you've never even been!?! Well first of all, I'm the one with the password to this blogger account which gives me the sole privilege of writing pretty much whatever I want without any formal oversight to speak of. Second, I have been if only once. I may be a hypocrite but I do try to cover my bases every now and then. For example I once went to Springs of Living Water for the sole purpose of validating all the downright nasty things I would say about it. That adventure ended up in us being tailed around the church by a man talking into a Denzel Washington CIA style cuff-link microphone. But I digress: My impression of the Fest was a lot of people re-inventing themselves for one weekend of the year.

My parents in law are not going to enjoy this post.

We all have our own Y axis, do we not?

Every now and then one stumbles across a graph. The X axis reads "Years". Sometimes this scale stretches back to the paleolithic era, sometimes it reaches back to the late 1990's. The Y axis is always different yet something alarmist in nature: "House Prices", "The Population of The Earth (billions)", "Homicides", "Immigrants", "Amount of Data Stored on Computers Worldwide", "Greenhouse Gas Emissions", or simple "Ants". The one constant is the fact that there "we" exist at the far right hand side of the curve. Back on the left the curve was almost a flat line. Then everything went wrong and now here we find ourselves on the right side with the curve screaming towards the sky, ready to burst out of the top of the graph, exit the medium upon which the graph is imprinted, and wrap itself around our throats to strangle us on the spot.

In no way is my description of the graph meant to downplay what is printed on the Y axis. Heck, we all have our own Y axis that concerns us and in most case these concerns are valid. What I would like to bring to light is my inability to tell whether or not these things are merely new words printed on the same old graphs that people in times preceding ours had: With their own curves, their own rates of acceleration, and their own labels.

Or, conversely, are we truly accelerating exponentially as a whole? Everything: Humanity, technology, the environment, and commerce. Have they all, all of the sudden, stepped on the gas and we are just happening to exist just at the right time and place to see it all go down? There are definitely days when I fell the acceleration and it scares me. Then again I'm not the first person in history to click my tongue and wish for the days of old.

What can I say, I'm like Fox News: I Report, You Decide.

The Man's coming for you. Where'er you be.

I love authority. I believe the establishment of legitimate authority is the single greatest accomplishment in the history of the universe and I am not being sarcastic in any way. The part that sucks for me being such an authority-loving-auto-bot, is that is authority is never portrayed in a good light. Ever. I can't think of one movie in which authority is portrayed as an inherintly good thing that is NOT
a) Top Gun, Top Gun II, or any other such movie involving the US military in the 1980's.
b) Anything with Louis Gosset Jr, who is probably the authority in question and is awesome.

When it comes to film, audiences have, are currently, and always will hear something to the effect of: "He was just one man, who played by his own rules...." or "He was just one man, making up the rules as went..." or even "He was just one man, with no rules but one: There are no rules.".

I hereby declare my intention to write, producer, dreamweave , and star in a truly revolutionary movie film about two police officers. One is a new rookie who got kicked out of military training at West Point for doing drugs and sleeping with the sargent's daughter. The other is a straight laced middle aged constable who, by playing by the rules, is only 1 week away from retirement. And when the it comes time to hand out assigments, guess whom gets paired with whom when the chief assigns officers to the drug trafficking unit! Long story short the rookie, who by using his charm, long hair, and various types of arm and neck holds that are anything but by the book, tries to get away with bending the rules but gets murdered 3 days later (and 15 minutes into the movie). The square however uses his many years of experience and time tested investigatory techniques. He follows the the reasonable orders given by his superior to finally crack the case and is our hero. That part takes 4 hours.

Instead we are at every turn encouraged to f*ck, dis*stablish, and subv*rt authority using as many words as we can to make us sound like we are saying something new. It is also rumored that among us mortals walk men who, due to their ability to think more independently than the rest of us, will go so far as to proclaim that in all situations and circumstances we must question authority. Oooooo. I've lived in places with no authority and it sucks. Really bad and for everyone involved.

So I tip my hat to you, the authority. May you stand close to me where'er I be. Can I get an Amen?

Throwback to 2001.

It's here posted on April 10.

Figures of speech are italicized for clarity.

I had a discussion last year with someone in the market research business about the current generation of youth and what the industry is doing to target them. Apparently they're called generation "me" and the basic strategy is give as much choice to the consumer as possible. I would consider myself a member of gen Y (think gulf war 1, the advent of the personal home computer, Tahiti Treat, etc.). This next generation "me" is the natural result of:

A) The self-esteem movement that was just beginning when I was a child where not only are you special but you're very different. And because you're so different you should be able to choose what you want to watch/eat/wear/see/hear/do/may/say/think when/however you want.

B) Super sweet technology.

I'm not proposing that these are inherently bad things to shape an entire generation but what I do believe is that since we receive our information and entertainment through so many customizable channels, we are loosing consensus among ourselves as a group. So as our parents no longer gathered around the radio after supper to hear news from the front and read the same newspaper every day, we are moving from watching sitcoms and the same 2 news programs together in the living room to the computer upstairs to preen our myspace (or should I say facebook. I should definitely say facebook.) site and peruse the web looking for a new electroclash band to listen you that you can be sure nobody else has. And instead of everybody on Monday at school discussing how funny it was when Chris Farley was farting on SNL the previous Saturday night, there are just way to many things out there to be entertained by. So when Monday comes it's just not the same.

Again, not necessarily a bad thing. I will concede that it was pretty lame that for about 400 years the media people consumed was controlled by such a small group of people. And I'm also glad I can live in an age when I can get home at night and watch all the soccer highlights I care to see on the internet whether it's 10, or 10:05, or 2am. Ok, I rarely stay out past 9 on a weeknight. Or weekend for that matter. Yet I feel that we've lost something. I don't feel the connection with the man on the street that I like to think generations past did. Like when all it took was tip of the hat to let someone know you're the kind of man that would vote for Teddy Roosevelt. What does that mean? I have no idea but we'd all know what it meant if it was 1901.

There's no doubt that the media we consume greatly influences the way we interact with each other non-only on the micro level but in commerce, education, and self governance. And I think the end result is that we become less and less able to participate in the public discourse that we use to steer our collective futures because nobody is starting from the same set of assumptions.

So in short technology is bad. Stick around for the next post where I'll be podcasting random thoughts, streaming video live of me typing the web log entry, and laying down my ipod playlist I'm working for the marathon. Warning to my brother: It's only 3 hours 30 minutes.

Running.

Why has long distance running emerged as the premier sporting activity of the modern-day well to do individual? If you were to picture a runner in your head more than likely the runner is wearing expensive pants, expensive shirt, and expensive socks made of teflon, neoprene, or some other material that sounds like it's used in advanced technological warfare. Also, what about an activity in which punishment and solitude are its primary features draws those society would consider the most succesful of our time? If we carefully examine the leisurely sporting activities of the rich of centuries past we can easily define what would attract people to said activities.

Sport hunting: Horses, guns, dogs with huge ears, and shiny boots that go up to your knee. It was man, long since freed from the burden of hunting (and gathering), returning to his origin in his spare time to act out the eternal battle of man versus beast in the much more comfortable position of being seated upon a steed and behind the barrel of a musket.

Rowing: Short shorts and even shorter hair surrounded with the sweet smell of the Ivy League wafting over the water from the shore. At a time when Britain ruled the world it was probably a good idea to participate in something so British.

Skiing: Turtlenecks, expensive equipment, and getting to say the word "chalet". So clearly this sport is awesome.

Then we come to running: With the 20th century came an exponential growth in personal wealth making activities previously reserved for the very rich available to the average citizen of the western world. Ever more people are now able to participate in whichever sporting activity they desire. Yet for what must be the first time in history, instead of upping the ante and inventing sports like yacht crash derbies or racing endangered species, the most affluent have decided to ... run. It appears as though in this aspect mankind has tried everything and has just given up on trying to entertain and fulfill ourselves with a combination of sport and technology. We are calling it quits, going back to just running around as fast, far, and long as we can.

I run myself. I am my father's son and since he runs, so must I. And come marathon time I'll be there, passing out into a wheelchair at the finish line as before. And it's going to be heaven.

Silly words for serious things.

An acquaintance participated in a recent protest in Winnipeg against Canada's participation in Afgan-eee-stan fighting the Tali-waly-ban. She perceived what I did a few years ago when I walked from Portage & Main to the Leg and vowed to never attend a protest ever again: The complete lack of focus. People have had their causes handed to them through so many channels of media that they've lost their cognitive ability to separate one from the other. So if I want to join with a group of people for the purpose of publicly voicing my opposition to a situation I don't agree with, I must acquiesce and align myself with those I would rather not. I left that cold Saturday in the winter of 2005 wondering what lesbians have to do with the US invading Iraq. Will there be lesbians in Iraq who will be dying? Is the US only sending in their finest lesbian warriors? Are lesbians even allowed to live in Iraq? Same goes for the local anarchist club. In fact the anarchists should be for an invasion: one less government laying down "rules"... man. With all the anarchy going on right now in Iraq I'm surprised all the anarchists in Winnipeg are still here instead of there. If one was into anarchy wouldn't you want to be where the anarchy is goin' on? Ditto for CUPE. What do unions have to do with the US getting their war on? I think I was once a member of CUPE when I taught computer science labs at the U of M. Sure, I went to the meetings because I got free pizza and there was a babe from my 4th year sociology course who frequently showed up, but their visible presence at a protest seemed a tidy bit presumptuous.

I think protests are necessary for the right issues and can effectively stop bad people from doing bad things, but throwing so many causes into the fray does nothing to further another one, it merely dilutes it until it has morphed into a chorus of irrelevant banter of the hippie persuasion. And nobody wants that. Trust me.

Speaking of first posts...

Since returning to Winnipeg I've been dismayed at the number of Cash Now / X-Money-X / Poor4Life loan sharks that have set up on Portage Ave to ply their wares, which in the end are primarily dearth and want. It's a 10 minute bus ride downtown and as if watching students get off at the U of W stop to begin their long day of getting their Ward Churchill on isn't chilling enough, I'm compelled to fix my gaze upon these places as they spread what could only be described as the opposite of Christmas cheer.

I recall reading a sign that said something to the effect of ...Because life doesn't wait until payday. This is supposed to bring a smile to your face: thinking perhaps of the individual who is one day away from payday and has decides to take a spontaneous trip to Vegas with his bestest of buds. Unfortunately the people who stumble into a Payday Loans on Portage Ave at 3am on a Tuesday aren't going to Vegas with college buds, they're probably trying to make their way to a Hell's Angels crack house in Garden City. And although I don't advocate property damage to make ones opinion heard (for that I would recommend a poorly colored strangly named web style log), a few choice words taped to the side of about 11 or so bricks sounds pretty good.
Haza!