Camera + Trombone + Imagination = Cool

Via kottke and colossal.

Mental Note: Don't Forget the Grain of Salt

It seemed like the only thing missing from this year's election was something to humble the media and the bloggers. That need has now been filled by a fake expert from a phony think tank.

The New York Times has the story -- A Senior Fellow at the Institute of Nonexistence -- about a counterfeit McCain advisor from an invented institute who cast fictions into the political waters and reeled in bloggers and media alike.

Remember the story about Sarah Palin not knowing that Africa is a continent and not a country? Almost believable... Seems in character.... Matches our shared experience of Mrs. Palin's qualifications... but not true.

The "source" for that story was a Martin Eisenstadt, of the Harding Institute, supposedly an advisor to the McCain campaign.

...Martin Eisenstadt doesn't exist. His blog does, but it’s a put-on. The think tank where he is a senior fellow — the Harding Institute for Freedom and Democracy — is just a Web site. The TV clips of him on YouTube are fakes.

Eisenstadt is really Eitan Gorlin, who created the character along with Dan Mirvish as part of a long-term hoax intended as a promotional stunt to develop a television show. According to the Times, they have fooled several newspapers, TV networks and many bloggers, even after some of those who had been fooled published warnings about the hoax.

The lesson we take from this is to not believe everything that we see, or hear, or read even when it is "on the news" or "in the paper." And, in the hyper-news-sensitive environment we find ourselves, in a time when anyone with a laptop, an ISP, and rudimentary spelling skills can become a part of the new media, caution is even more important.

On the other hand, Mrs. Palin's response to the fake story (prior our learning that it was a hoax), was almost as interesting. Here's what she told Greta Van Susteren, as quoted on ABC's Political radar blog:

I don't know, because I remember the discussion about Africa, my concern has been the atrocities there in Darfur and the relevance to me with that issue, as we spoke about Africa and some of the countries there that were kind of the people succumbing to the dictators and the corruption of some collapsed governments on the continent, the relevance was Alaska's investment in Darfur with some of our permanent fund dollars, I wanted to make sure that that didn't happen anymore.

Wait... what?

I'm also tickled by the hoaxers' explanation of how they came up with the fake advisor character's name:

Mr. Gorlin said they chose the name because “all the neocons in the Bush administration had Jewish last names and Christian first names.”

And for the Institute? They named it after one of the least popular presidents in US history. That seemed believable.

In Troubled Times, Where Shall a Bruised Nation Turn for Soothing Ironic Distance?

I found myself drawn to this recent headline from The Onion: Nation's Crumbling Infrastructure Probably Some Sort Of Metaphor.

The satirical "newspaper" recounts recent infrastructure failures and notes that these failures are "forcing many to question whether the nation's rapidly deteriorating roads, contaminated drinking water and groundwater, and run-down schools could perhaps be a metaphor for something."

"Everywhere you turn you see improperly maintained railways, structurally deficient bridges—not to mention billions of gallons of untreated sewage flowing directly into our groundwater," said Adam Perry, a representative for the ASCE. "Is there an underlying message here? There are so many layers, and each one is so subtle and nuanced, that I'm hesitant to make any kind of blanket statement about what this means 'for America.'"

"I think our overstretched and increasingly obsolete infrastructure might symbolize something important," Perry added. "But what?"

I find myself missing that sort of irony-heavy satirical commentary now that the TV-writers' strike has darkened the nation's airwaves. I wonder where to turn for the acerbic commentary I once depended on The Daily Show to provide.

As it happens, commercial television is not the only place to find such content. As we turn away from reality-TV, we are rediscovering thoughtful, written cynicism in all manner of formats, from traditional printed books and magazines to on-line blogs and, for the more adventurous, personal conversation.

Aside from The Onion, there are other goofy-news sites such as ScrappleFace, McSweeney's and the (somewhat NSFW) Daily Mash over in the United Kingdom. There are sites featuring humorous writing in general, such as Francesco Explains It All. And the TV writers are creating new on-line video content in their own cause at Speechless.

So, as the writers' strike drags into a new year, and we resign ourselves to television without great wit, people around the nation are re-discovering the joys of literature, learning about alternate media, and indulging in conversation.

And some -- a brave few -- are starting to express their own, very personal, satire.

Why I Read Jasper Fforde

Here's how Jasper Fforde begins his latest Thursday Next novel, First Among Sequels:

The dangerously high level of the stupidity surplus was once again the lead story in The Owl that morning. The reason for the crisis was clear: Prime Minister Redmond van de Poste and his ruling Commonsense Party had been discharging their duties with a reckless degree of responsibility that bordered on inspired sagacity. Instead of drifting from one crisis to the next and appeasing the nation with a steady stream of knee-jerk legislation and headline-grabbing but arguably pointless initiatives, they had been resolutely building a raft of considered long-term plans that concentrated on unity, fairness and tolerance. It was a state of affairs deplored by Mr. Alfredo Traficcone, leader of the opposition Prevailing Wind Party, who wanted to lead the nation back onto the safer grounds of uninformed stupidity.

I am not ashamed to declare that I like absurdity. And Mr. Fforde offers inspired silliness in all of his novels that I have read so far. I plan to read more.

This Makes Me Feel Good

There is an organization known as The Association for Applied and Therapeutic Humor (AATH). That makes me feel better about life.

I got an e-mail today asking for nominations for the 2008 AATH Book Awards. The awards are set up to honor authors of books that further the mission of AATH: "to advance the understanding and application of humor and laughter for their positive benefits."

I was tempted to scoff at this as simply self-evident. But, while laughter in itself is good for you, it is also the case that, with training, one can build therapies on that fact and enhance the power of the smile.

There is a similar therapeutic effect with music. The Lovely Karen is a trained and certified Music Therapist. Music Therapy appears to be a bit further along as a profession, but I see a role of Humor Therapy as well.

Our neighbors Charlie and Nancy were involved in humor therapy for many years. They volunteered around the community as the clowns Happy G and O Lucky; we would see them in parades and at street festivals. We always thought it was simply their way to have fun.

Colleen interviewed them for a school project one evening and they explained to us about the deeper work they were doing, visiting the sick and dying and bringing cheer into hospitals.

I think that's pretty cool.

Today Was a Day to Doubt Your Senses

April Fools Day in the internet age is a challenge. There are always any number of goofs out there on April 1; some subtle, some stupid, some sublime. But for those of us who wander the wide world web, the sheer volume of silliness can become overwhelming.

Google got into the act, of course, offering a toilet-enabled WiFi system and a de-evolutionary new way to archive e-mail.

The Delaware News Journal tongue-in-cheekily suggested a second chance for recently disgraced state lawmaker John Atkins.

A local Liberal false-outed a local Conservative.

On MetaFilter, the moderators crafted a special April-Fools' version of Ask MetaFilter (somewhat NC17) that collected a month's worth of fictional nightmare questions.

Technorati played anagrams with its own name.

And Flickr Scout told me that all 2,389 of my posted photos had placed in Flickr's vaunted Explore list of the most "interesting" shots posted. My little heart went pitter-patter; previously I'd only placed three in Explore.

There were hundreds more, of course. For all that, the most disconcerting Foolishness today was unintentional.

Karen had planned to head-out early today. The Bell Choir played early- and late-morning services at Epworth Church. I was planning to be up and around in time to get Colleen to church by 9:30.

But when I awoke and looked at the clock, I was horrified to see that it was already 8:30. I scrambled out of bed, woke Colleen the ungentle way, and leapt into the shower. When I came downstairs half an hour later, ready to drive her into town, Colleen was still in her PJs; she pointed to two clocks that both read 8:00. I had panicked and got us all up too early.

When I checked with Karen later, I learned that she had also been fooled and got up way too early.

Our fancy alarm clock is programmed to reset itself when power goes out. It also helpfully resets itself to account for Daylight Savings Time changes. Unfortunately, when Congress moved the spring-forward date up by a few weeks and away from April 1, they neglected to inform our alarm clock.

So. Early this morning, while we were deeply asleep, our clock stirred itself and sprang it's digital read-out ahead from 2:00 a.m. to 3:00 a.m., placing Karen and I an hour ahead of the day.

We were fooled. Who says Congress has no sense of humor?

Two Stupid Thoughts

They say that in any dispute, it's always better to take the high road.

It occurred to me that that is because clearly it's much easier to throw things down at the other guy from up there.

And.

My daughter's class is making anonymous support cards for each other during mandated state testing just now. These are anonymous cards of encouragement to make each other feel better and keep up their spirits during testing.

I suppose it's a "Secret Pollyanna" program.

That's all.

Wanted (Desperately): A Sense of Humor

I've been missing Molly Ivans, and I didn't even know it.

America needs to lighten-up. We take ourselves far too seriously. We're losing the ability to laugh at ourselves, and we need that ability, lest we forget how truly foolish we all are.

Attack of the Cartoon Goofies
A guerrilla marketing campaign for a TV cartoon paralyzed parts of Boston this week. As part of a marketing campaign for Aqua Teen Hunger Force, panels of LED pixels portraying a pair of pusillanimous characters from the cartoon were placed around several cities over the last few weeks. Flickr-user xjohnpaulx found them in Philadelphia earlier this month. Only in Boston was this seen as a possible terrorist attack.

From the close-up photos of one of the devices that I've seen, it should have been pretty obvious that these aren't any sort of bomb. But I suppose someone spotted one, thought it suspicious, and called the authorities.

And if anything is clear these days, we take stuff terribly seriously.

The devices were blown up. The two young men who put them up were arrested, charged, and released on bail. Luckily, they see the humor. They refused to talk with reporters about anything but the history of hair styles. Watch the second video in this link. It's worth it.

Politician, Stifle Thyself
Can Joe Biden be elected president? He's certainly qualified, but some people are worried about his electability. Other people hate him with an astoundingly unreasoning passion.

Senator Biden got in all sorts of trouble this week; as far as I can tell it was because he speaks like me. Joe Biden forgot to measure, focus-group-test, and vet his words before he made what he thought was a flattering remark about Barak Obama.

I can understand how those words could be construed as insulting, but their intention was so incredibly clearly not insulting. Senator Obama didn't seem insulted.

But our political culture demands that we take any utterance at its worst, with no sense of humor whatever.

This is Where I Miss Molly Ivans
Molly Ivans was as sharp a political observer as this nation has ever seen. Her columns, looking at the wonderful world of Texas politics and later at the odd reality of national politics, were biting, but funny.

Back in 1993, she wrote a column (The Fun's in the Fight) in which she encourages activists to keep their sense of fun as they fight for their causes. She tells about great characters and how they spiced up their times. She describes the reaction of Austin progressives to a march by bussed-in KKK folks (Mass mooning).

So keep fightin' for freedom and justice, beloveds, but don't you forget to have fun doin' it. Lord, let your laughter ring forth. Be outrageous, ridicule the fraidy-cats, rejoice in all the oddities that freedom can produce. And when you get through kickin' ass and celebratin' the sheer joy of a good fight, be sure to tell those who come after how much fun it was.

We need to find this spirit again.

Have You Noticed All The Hype About "Second Life?"

This guy has. He's created Get a First Life to mock the hugely successful Second Life, in which players lead a whole new "virtual life."

It's just comedy, but I think it serves as a gentle reminder that we do have a life in the real world, and we do need to pay attention to it.

MOTnewbie has a thoughtful take on the same sort of thing today.

I've expressed my appreciation of Delaware's growing blogosphere, and I stand by that appreciation. But I also think we should remember to play active roles in our actual lives -- the Delaware-osphere -- as well.

The Curve of Your Laugh

Driving the girls to dance this evening, I was half listening to an interview on the World Café. A performer started a gentle, acoustic love song with a phrase that sounded, to my partial ear, like "the curve of your laugh."

That can't be the actual lyric, but I think it paints a great sound. It made me think of Karen's sometimes out of control laughter when something catches her just right.

Years ago, my youngest brother Bob and his fiancée, also a Karen, brought home a new family member: a black lab puppy named Sasha. She was a pedigreed dog, a new thing for Karen and me; we're used to mutt cats and mixed breed dogs.

We eagerly read through Sasha's papers, tracing her line back until we reached a forebear named "Quiver of the River."

That's minor silliness, but it started Karen's laugh, an open, joyous, eyes shut, head thrown back giggle-laugh that lasts until the air runs out, then pauses, almost in disbelief, re-gathers itself, and takes off again.

That laugh has lasted for years, as Sasha grew from a gangly young pup, through her frolicking prime, and into a white-muzzled canine crone. All I had to do was say "Quiver of the River" and the laugh would pick up where it left off.

Now, though Sasha is gone, the laugh remains. It can be triggered by the many wonderful and silly things our girls do, or by comic improv (God bless Ryan Stiles), or by a chance gift of goofiness from the cosmos.

And it still has that lovely curve.

Phone Call for Mr. Leghorn! Foghorn Leghorn, Call For You!

The universe will provide all the laughs we need if we are but open to it.

There's an article posted this afternoon on the News Journal web site about a dispute over a proposal for a cell tower disguised as a tree in Western Sussex County.

There are opponents. There are supporters. Chief among the supporters is Byard Layton, on whose chicken farm the tower would be placed.

According to Mr. Layton, the area needs more cell coverage: “If you go in the chicken house, you don’t get any reception.”

Would That all Village Weblogs Were as Fulfilling

With thanks to Miriam, I point with a chuckle to Little Frigging in the Wold, the official Little Frigging in the Wold village weblog.

This is not a site for the faint hunor, but does offer some delightfully silly writing, such as this, from a post entitled All-Nude Chicken-Intriguing:

Nasturtium Cheeseincident (1945 - 2006) began as a Chicken-Intriguer of the old school. She first learnt the ancient and noble art of Chicken-Intriguing at the knee, ankle and - on one memorable occasion - elbow, of the semi-legendary Great High Trilobite of Chicken-Intriguing - Gerrymander Ankletrouser, an adept at the once lost art of Turkey-Perplexing, as well as being the greatest Chicken-Intriguer this world has ever known.

Sometimes, I find that a stiff dose of absolute absurdity is just the thing.

Life-Changing Moment #381

This morning, I had the Tivo machine grab a showing of the 1933 Marx Brothers movie Duck Soup.

I'm indulging in a little Marxian madness this evening; I haven't time to watch the whole thing just now, but a few moments of Groucho, Harpo, and Chico are refreshing after a full week.

I find myself thinking back to the early 1970s, when I was a kid. A friend up the street invited me to the church his family attended one evening for a showing of Duck Soup. I had no idea what the movie was, but at that age, no longer a child but not yet a teen, any opportunity to get out with friends is worth taking.

Now, decades later, as the movie begins with its ornate 1930's crowd scene, musical number, and fancy costumes, I wonder what my initial reaction was. What was I thinking as he movie started? How did I react at the first entrance the wise-ass Groucho and the clowny Chico and Harpo?

I can say that that experience -- watching this insanity on a screen set up in River Road Unitarian Church -- changed my life. I became, and have stayed, a Marx Brothers fan.

It helped lead me to vintage movies, to vaudeville, to absurdist theater, to wider reading, and to an acceptance of silliness in all its wonderful forms.

I'd hate to think what my life would have been without it.