Dancing Stars of Nonsense

I have a love/hate relationship with several things and though I try to keep it under control, I just can't sometimes. Such is the case with "Dancing With the Stars."

After last time, I swore off the whole thing. Brooke Burke and her do-nothingness drove me to the brink of insanity, and the judges are ridiculous. (Except Bruno, who is kind of awesome.) I really and truly meant the words, "I'm not watching anymore. That is it."

And then I saw the new lineup of stars and, well, damn it. I had to tune in. Shawn Johnson, for crying out loud. The only other way they could hook me bigger would be a Pittsburgh Steeler. Gymnastics is my other true weakness and so, here I am again, beholden to that (has to be) rigged Monday night fiasco.

I don't watch the whole thing live, as those days are far behind me. There are highly specified rules. I DVR the episode Monday night and only watch after it is completely over or the next day. I only watch the dances, except for my favorites for whom I will sit through the practice highlights. (This is currently Shawn, Steve-O, and my little pocket cowboy, Ty Murray.) I don't watch the judges' comments if I hear any negativity. And, most importantly, I can not hear one peep from Samantha Harris, lest my entire head explodes right here in my living room.

After all these built-in safeguards, I still find myself riled up frequently. There is no Tuesday results show for me, save the last five minutes when I see who is going home. And even so, I can't keep myself from angry outbursts - and it's only like the second elimination. Ugh.

Why must I get so deeply involved in this ridiculous so-called competition? Because I like to feel the passion that comes with being involved. The win is made so much better when you've gone the distance. Likewise, the loss is that much more bitter, but with the highs come the lows.

I wish I could feel a different way about it, but I can't. We'll see how it all plays out, but so far it is not looking so great. When Teletubby clone Steve "The Woz" Wozniak is still bumbling around and Denise Richards is gone already, you know you might be in for another long, long season. (Not that she was good, but she could at least walk straight. I suspect the Cloris Leachman phenomonen...)

I'll try to remain somewhat sane throughout, though I won't make any promises. Obviously, after last season's vow never to return to this forsaken show, we all know how those promises work out anyway.

Reimagine Your History, Kids

My family insists I practice "revisionist history" on a regular basis, meaning I tend to "creatively reimagine" events from the past. I deny this vehemently and really believe my own press - I don't think I do it. It's just that everyone remembers the facts a certain way and I contend my memories are closest to the truth. So...there you go.

This past week, I have partaken in two films where imagined history is a large part of the plot. The first is "Watchmen" which is popular, mainstream, anxiously awaited, and gloriously violent in its heightened over-the-top fashion. I enjoyed it, even though I have no familiarity with the graphic novel and did not know the story going in.

The strong movie style fascinated me nonetheless, and part of that dealt with the film's ability to place the fictional Watchmen in all the important parts of history. It created a brand new version of the familiar world in a satisfying way, so that you felt the on-screen events truly could have been just that way. That blended reality with pure fantasy made for a deep, insightful trip into a strange, yet plausible universe of moral and cultural dilemmas. This is just the type of film you can discuss for hours afterward - always a treat.

The other film was completely unknown to me before my sister alerted me to its showings on IFC. Unfortunate, really, that more people haven't seen it and I hope that changes after reading my highly influential blog posts. (Sarcasm intended, naturally.) It is called "CSA: Confederate States of America." From this point forward, whenever I am asked of the most terrifying film ever, this will be my response.

This is a mockumentary from a very highly reimagined, scary world that could have been, at least in the minds of these particular film makers. After the South won the "War of Northern Aggression" the Confederate States of America went through, as you might imagine for yourself, radically different experiences. In this version of reality, Britain has made a "documentary" which chronicles this new America's history, from Abraham Lincoln's exile to Canada to present day high-tech gadgets to keep your slaves from taking off.

This film is a marvel, in that the documentary - done in PBS-style, with dry narration and clips from "films" made throughout history - is spot-on. The acting matches in such a truthful, authentic manner, you're sucked into thinking it could be real. (In fact, I had moments of panic when I thought of some redneck stumbling onto this, not knowing what it was, and thinking it was some racist, facist propoganda for their ridiculous positions. Then, I tried to tell myself that most stereotypical rednecks don't stumble upon the Independent Film Channel very often...or, at least, I hope not.)

The clincher is it comes complete with fake commercials - for pills you get from your "veterinarian" to keep slaves calm and submissive, offensively modeled fried chicken establishments, and horribly named tobacco products, among others. This is what really crawled under my skin. Though I admire the finished product, I took a break in the middle so I could watch from beginning to end: it just felt too disturbing. And when I did get to the end, I found an even bigger surprise awaiting me which provoked even more feelings of unease. (I won't say what that is, because you are all going to rush out and watch this!)

So, history reimagined both made me think and scared me out of my wits. But, it intrigued me too. Because history is precarious, prone to differences we live with just because that's the way it ended up - and we don't often spend hours upon hours thinking of how it could have been, given a few alternate moves on the board. And as strange as things seem to be, it seems things have worked out okay for us so far - as compared to the terror-ific alternatives.

I hope when we look back from ten or twenty or one hundred years in the future, we still think the same thing.

Mad About March Madness

January and February are pretty blah months, when you think about it. Even though I love the events during that time (The Super Bowl, The Oscars, etc.) the actual time of year is pretty depressed. It's cold, it's snowy, it's dark, it's dreary.

But, the past few days have been filled with sunshine and warm breezes and, though I've been super busy in my life, it fills me with an energy I desperately need. And to top it all off...

It's Selection Sunday this weekend, which means the NCAA March Madness is upon us! Yea! Something to look forward to each day and night, game upon game where you cheer for teams you may have never heard of before and get involved in the latest, greatest Cinderella team of the tournament. Which was sw-eeeeeet when that team happened to be WVU a few years ago. ("You've been Pittsnogled!")

I'm ready to get my brackets down to a science and I can't wait to see how things turn out. Things like this make odd bedfellows, as they say, when you find yourself rooting for schools and people you otherwise might detest, or ignore completely. As of now, Florida is one bubble team on the outs for the big dance and that alone is one early mark in my "win" column. We'll see what else comes to pass on Sunday evening.

Ahh, it's nice to have some big time sports competition to distract me from regular, real life. Time to cut down some nets!

Circular History

Everything old is new again...or something like that. Yesterday, I heard a new Offspring song on the radio. A few minutes ago, I watched a preview for "Last House on the Left." Noah Wyle is on ER tonight. What year is it anyway?

My deduction: there are really no new ideas out there. Things just go 'round and 'round. ("Like a record, baby, right round..." This ditty is being sampled on a new tune, by the way.) Leggings are a good example. I wore them in high school and when I saw them return in present day, I vowed to resist. This too failed. Check my closet for proof.

Might as well give up and roll with it. Whether it be politics, pop culture, or fashion, we can all just buckle in and ride the cycle again. I hope someday we will learn from mistakes in the past, lest we be doomed to repeat them. (For example, spandex and bodysuits. These should be relegated to the halls of West Beverly High for repeated DVD viewings of 90210, not beyond.)

But wisdom like that, too, is about as likely as Michael Jackson really going into retirement as he so claimed. It just is not the way things work, be they big or small.