Classical Liberal, New Media


Last semester I had the good fortune to take a class on Digital Rhetoric and New Media. It was a fascinating class, and it offered me the opportunity to be exposed to a wide variety of new concepts, particularly among them the idea of media specific analysis. To some degree most of us have had some exposure to this, as we don’t analyze movies quite the same way we do books, but we went into it in much greater depth and detail in the class, as well as trying our hands at doing digital art projects.

Coming out of that class, one of the concepts I was introduced to was the idea of “twitter novels” or “twitter stories”. The idea is somewhat flexible (as social media seems to be), but one version of it is taking an existing work and adapting it for Twitter. I was inspired by the idea and decided to try my hand at it. I selected as my source the essay “I, Pencil” by Leonard E. Read, working off the 50th anniversary edition published by the Foundation for Economic Education.

The experience was interesting, to say the least. First I went through the entire essay, trying to break it down into individual tweet-size pieces. This wasn’t as simple as just writing it out 140 characters at a time, because I wanted to accomplish several things with each tweet: I wanted them to seem “real”, I wanted them to be interesting in themselves, and I wanted them to be re-tweetable. Part of making them seem “real” was adjusting the voice of the essay, which is very formal, and making it less so. While I didn’t succeed everywhere, I do think I managed to make it more casual overall. One of the things I discovered in this process is that I am not very comfortable with Twitter; it was only just before I moved into the launch phase that I realized I hadn’t really made use of hash tags, and I had to go back through and find places they naturally fit. I did manage to incorporate bits and pieces of the web here and there, so I feel pretty good about that.

Actually scheduling the project was more of a challenge. Considering the work totaled over 100 tweets, I obviously wasn’t going to be sending them all manually. I had originally planned to send them in half-hour increments (give or take), and after talking with a coworker who is more versed in the use of social media than I am I decided to use Tweetdeck. Now, unless I am missing something, Tweetdeck could be a lot more user-friendly. My original schedule would have stretched out for at least a week (I only intend to have tweets go out between 10 am and 4 pm so I can monitor them for issues), and I had to adjust the schedule. Even being able to keep track of what I had already scheduled was a hassle, as Tweetdeck kept shuffling my pre-scheduled tweets out of chronological order, which does not fill me with confidence. When I tried to reschedule some, it looked like the program has just duplicated rather than rescheduling the tweets. Finally I tried to clear them all out, and upon refreshing things looked fine. Then I deleted that whole column, set it up again, and a whole set of tweets showed up again!

Once I finally got past those difficulties, I started over. I put all my tweets in a spreadsheet and set up a schedule there. I then copied them over and scheduled them rigorously according to the timetable I had established.  At the time of writing this they sit queued up, waiting to launch. Over the next few days I’ll see how well the process turned out.

For those who are interested in trying a project like this, here is my advice:

1. Write your tweets in advance. This will give you time to think about what you want to say, make adjustments as needed, and have a cohesive story to present. Don’t think of Twitter (or any other social media platform) as your creative medium; it is your presentation medium. George Lucas doesn’t write the script as he’s filming, neither should you.

2. Think about the medium you are using. What makes it distinctive and unique? Why are you using this medium to tell your story instead of another? In particular familiarize yourself with the conventions of the medium. That’s not to say you can’t break convention (many artists have done so quite successfully), but do it deliberately.

3. Plan, plan, plan. It’s not just the writing, it’s all the tools you will use. If I was more familiar with the ins and outs of Tweetdeck, Bit.ly, and Twitter in general, I would have had an easier time, but just knowing Word and Excel and having a good vision for the shape of the project (I spent weeks working it out in my head) saved me when I hit roadblocks.

4. Have fun with it! In the end this is still an experimental medium, which means there are few if any rules, and this is the chance to do something truly new and innovative.

If you’d like to see my experiment in Twitter writing, it runs this week starting Jan. 7, 10 AM EST at @IPencil2013. If you have your own digital works, please share them in the comments below!


Do You Hear the People Sing?


I’m going to say this up front: when I saw Les Miserables, I cried like a baby through the whole thing. I’m man enough to admit it. You’d pretty much have to have a heart of stone not to. I’ve been in love with the music of Les Mis for about twenty years, but I’ve never had a chance to see it in person (and the half staged, half not production they run perennially on PBS every time they need to shake loose a few more nickels doesn’t count either). I’m trying to convey the extremely high expectations and hopes I had going into this film before you read any further.

That having been said, if you haven’t seen this movie yet, I suggest you stop reading, buy a ticket to the next showing, and go out to see it. It’s really that good. The first word to come to mind after it was over was “epic”. If there was a chance in hell of a musical being nominated for a Best Picture Oscar, this would be the one. Certainly there are more than a few deserved nominations to go around.

First, the cinematography is stunning. Rather than simply transporting the stage show to film, cinematographer Danny Cohen uses the film medium to create a complete and compelling world full of vivid and rich imagery and (here’s that word again) epic scale. The staging of every scene is perfect, vast and overwhelming in the prison yard, majestic and beautiful when looking out over the rooftops of Paris, and time and confining when having a sword-fight in a hospital.

One of the great strengths of film over stage is the ability to do close-ups, to bring intimacy with the performers that simply isn’t available even in a black box performance (and who ever heard of Les Mis being done in a black box, anyway?), and director Tom Hooper does an excellent job of utilizing the various levels of intimacy available to draw more out of the characters than would otherwise be possible. The sets are also much more flexible, and the use of space is often fun and agile without feeling “dancy” or overblown. Most of all was the unique decision to film with live singing rather than a playback, which gives even more of a sense of intimacy and believability to the moments in the film; there is none of the traditional sense of “let’s all suddenly break into song!” associated with movie musicals, but rather a natural transition in and out of music that lends itself to a perfect suspension of disbelief.

There were also some key decisions made in terms of what material to include and what to cut, but they were done with a careful eye toward shaping a coherent narrative, and unless one of your favorite songs is missing I doubt you will even notice (unless like me you absolutely despise one of the songs that got trimmed back, in which case you might even cheer a bit.)

The bulk of my praise however (and this might just be my own personal tastes coming out) is going to go to the actors.

First and foremost I can’t say enough about Anne Hathaway as Fantine. I’ve never been all that fond of Fantine as a character (again, I’ve only ever really known the music), as I found her to be at best a plot device and not especially sympathetic. Well voiced? Certainly. Someone to care about? Not really. Hathaway changed that completely. She brought a tragic dignity to the role it always lacked for me before, and my heart ached for her every moment. Her decent from factory worker to her final moments is brought to painful life by a performance that by itself deserves an Oscar. Add onto that her amazing performance of “I Dreamed a Dream”, and if she doesn’t at least get nominated for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar, there will be a riot in Hollywood. In this performance she showed that it is possible to both sing beautifully and emote, while most actors struggle to do either one.

Standing in contrast to Hathaway’s performance, but still just as moving and powerful in its own way, is Hugh Jackman as Jean Valjean. Whether because he is playing to a camera rather than an entire theater or simply as a matter of character choice, Jackman dials down Valjean from the more grandiose figure he is traditionally presented as. This fits the narrative of the story better, as well as allowing his co-stars to bring their own performances down to a more empathetic level. While I myself have always loved (and sympathized with) Valjean, it takes a great deal of skill to show that level of restraint with the character, especially when he brings forth his characteristic passion in occasional moments of brilliance.

The rest of the cast vary from good to great, but I want to give some special words of praise to a few who either made me care about their characters more than I expected to, or who managed to rise above my expectations of their abilities.

Sacha Baron Cohen as Thenardier and Helena Bonham Carter as Madame Thenardier – I love these characters and I most assuredly do not love these performers, so I was shocked when I saw their names in the credits. While I wasn’t thrilled with all the choices made around their roles, I loved everything they did with their roles. Don’t know that it’s worth an Oscar, but certainly worth a Golden Globe nomination.

Samantha Barks as Eponine – Until I saw this movie Eponine was at best a throw away plot device, at worst an annoying roadblock of a plot device. Ms. Barks changed all of that. She made Eponine charming, warm, relatable, and in the end another wonderfully tragic figure. Again, I don’t know that she rose to the level of Oscar nomination, but she definitely deserves a Golden Globe.

Daniel Huttlestone as Gavroche – I have always vacillated back and forth between being irritated by Gavroche because I don’t know what to do with him and simply despising him for being a waste of time and space. Young Master Huttlestone has completely changed my mind, bringing courage, dignity and charm to an otherwise forgettable character. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him getting a Golden Globe nomination for Best Supporting Actor, and even a dark horse candidate for an Oscar nomination.

Now, if you still haven’t seen the movie, what are you waiting for? Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? Beyond the barricade there’s a movie you’ve just got to see.


Clean Sweep


I’d like to take this opportunity to explain to the ladies why it is that “men don’t clean”.

You see, this is a lie. A calumny. A slander of the highest proportion. We clean. We just don’t clean the way you clean. There is a difference.

You’re probably thinking right about now that I am simply making things up in an attempt to defend my gender, but the truth is I’m not. In fact, I’m going to paint a situation, walk you through it, and show you how every time you have been making false assumptions about men not cleaning.

Picture this: you ask your boyfriend/husband/son to clean a room. You leave for a half-hour, come back, and it looks no different to you, or at best only slightly tidied up. You say something to the effect of “I thought I asked you to clean in here,” and he maddeningly responds with “I did.” You can either exhort him to actually clean it or just give up in frustration now and do it yourself, because you know you’re going to have to do it anyway.

Sound familiar?

Now, let me explain what has happened.

You walked in to what, to a man’s eyes, appeared to be a clean-ish room. There might be a few things out of place, but overall it’s in decent shape. When you walked in and said “Could you please clean this room up?” the panic set in. He knows you think the room is filthy, but he has no idea why. He tries his best to guess what it is you want done, but he knows he is destined to fail. The only question is how much time does he intend to waste on this doomed effort. Some younger or over-eager fools will even spend more time and effort, thinking this will somehow earn them mercy. When you return and crush his spirit with an offhanded “I thought I asked you to clean in here”, her replies with the only defense he has, feeble though it may be: the truth. “I did.” He then watches you bustle around the room in a bad mood, engaged in arcane rituals that, when you are done, have made no discernible difference whatsoever.

Now, I know that sounds crazy, and that’s because it is. Men and women do not perceive the world in the same way. This is insane, but it is something that we simply have to accept. Ladies, what you need to understand is that, when you start going on about “cleaning”, we don’t share your vision. I don’t mean that in the sense of “I just don’t share your artistic vision”, I mean that in the sense of “I’m pretty sure you’re an insane cultist worshipping dark beings from beyond this reality and trying to summon them forth to devour our world”. But we love you anyway.

Because we love you, we want to make you happy. This is why we get scared and frustrated every time you say things like “please clean this room”. It’s like you’ve been watching the Saw franchise again, and you’ve decided that a combination of test and torture is just the thing to brighten an otherwise boring day. We both know there’s no way we’re going to win this one, but you ask anyway. Unless your purpose is to look for an excuse to get frustrated with us, perhaps the following advice will be useful to you.

First, keep in mind that we have different standards of “clean”. Remember the old saying about “if you want something done right”? Well, it applies doubly here. I’m not saying we’re going out of our way to shirk, but when you ask someone else to do something, you really can’t expect them to do it the way you would do it unless you’ve spent a few decades mercilessly drilling them on perfect technique.

Second, consider spending a few decades mercilessly drilling us on perfect technique. If you don’t have that much time to spare, some straightforward directions on what you’d like to see would be better upfront than a disappointed sigh on the back end. Keep in mind that if you do this you don’t get to say “well that was just for starters!” after the fact. Make the list comprehensive or don’t bother.

Third, are you familiar with the concept of “comparative advantage”? If you want the room cleaned just so, perhaps while you’re doing that he can be mowing the lawn. If you also want the lawn mowed just so, perhaps he can pay the bills. If you want that done just so, perhaps you would be more comfortable living alone.

Which brings me to my final piece of advice. Nobody is perfect, and we all find ways to annoy the crap out of each other on a daily basis. Learning to accept these foibles and follies is a big part of what makes relationships work, maybe the only part. After all, the rest is fun, not work. Focus more on the good times getting the rooms dirty than the confusion about trying to get them clean again.

For the rebuttal from My Not So Humble Wife, be sure to read “Dirty, Dirty Men“.