Freedom! (Or something like it)

Since the first tribal elder crowned himself head honcho thousands of years ago, humankind has had an obsession with its kings. Sure, we don't use that moniker that much these days, and for the most part these “masters” do not wield the all encompassing power they once did -- but they still fulfil their prescribed role as leader of the clan.

When it boils down to it, we really don't value freedom as much as we say we do -- at least not in its purest, most absolute form. As much as our leaders like to rally around the word, proclaim it passionately in speeches and wear it to bed like a set of flannel pyjamas, I don't think society is aware of how thoroughly lacking in freedom it really is. And that is by design.

Inherent in our mindset is a need for order and control. The way we get this is to create a system -- most likely in the form of government -- in order to ensure that this goal is satisfied. Every generation has their own idea of what that government looks like, but it seems to be a vital and unequivocally necessary factor in the development of human society.

If we valued freedom as much as we say we do, it's likely we'd end up with two polar outcomes. The first most commonly cited would be anarchy, or the complete breakdown of the formerly described system -- in essence, a hedonistic society.

In this world, the theory of “survival of the fittest” comes into effect. It's back to the almost animalistic free for-all of our caveman ancestors.

The other example would be that of a system based on law, without the trappings of what we consider “power”. In this system, the people govern themselves without representation according to the dictates of a preestablished and honoured law.

So freedom is relative. Most of us will concur that the first option is clearly undesirable. No one wants the uncertainty and guaranteed disaster an anarchical system would bring about. Nor is it realistic. No matter how dark the circumstances the human race finds itself in, it always reaches out for the familiar and certain. We inevitably revert back to a state of civic order and enforced hierarchy.

The second example -- that of the leaderless “utopia” -- is somewhat of an anomaly in the narrative of the human journey. The most vibrant instance of this form of “order” happened sometime around 12^th century B.C., in the ancient land of Israel. Known as the time of the Judges, the Israelites were required by God to adhere to the requirements of the law. This “code of conduct” as it were was to ensure that justice was maintained, that wealth was distributed properly, and most importantly -- that the Hebrew identity was kept intact. There would still be territorial division, religion, commerce, legal system, etc; but no recognizable “overseer” with its associated bureaucracy.

Instead, this system focused on collective observance of the law. Violators of the agreement were to be sentenced to death and stoned by the offended community. Also, the Israelite community didn't “outsource" duties as modern societies do today. There was no standing army, tax collectors, or representatives in parliament or congress.

Instead the entire community drew together in times of war to defend a village or pass. They decided matters locally in accordance with the law (similar to a Arabic Shura council). The people gave a tenth of what they had to the service of the priests, who acted as an early social welfare agency and distributed the fund to the poor and sick. They did not allow others to speak for them. They took direct action and spoke for themselves.

And every once and a while, when Israel strayed from this law, or when the situation with its heathen neighbours got too rough, a “judge” would arrive on the scene. Samson, Gideon, Deborah – all were necessary to guide the nation through the times of trouble. They would rally the people, raise an army, and march out to deal accordingly with the troublemakers. However, when the situation cooled down sufficiently the army was disbanded, the people returned to their day to day activities, and the judges disappeared back into the wood work of society.

Problem was, often these judges failed the country. Prone to lust, greed and injustice, the people soon grew weary of them and demanded a more common form of government. The prophet Samuel (himself a judge) tried to talk them out of their request. Among his arguments to dissuade the Israelites was a warning that they would suffer heavily under the requirements of this new king. They would be taxed a tenth of everything they had (on top of the tenth they already tithed). Men would be conscripted into military service, and women would be forced to work menial tasks. Everyone would be unwillingly pressed into service on behalf of the “state”, and the nation would face an unbearable yoke because of it.

But the people responded: “We want a king over us. Then we will be like all other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.” So they got their king -- Saul -- and things turned out pretty much as Samuel had predicted.

And thus concluded the experiment in the non-anarchic government-less state. It seems 200 years without government was just too much for them to handle. Freedom had its price, and the uncertainty inherent in operating such an unorthadox social structure was relinquished by the ancient Israelites in the name of order and predictability.

And we continue to see civilizations willing to pay the cost in order to gain an advantage. Authoritarian governments in particular can be singled out as glowing examples of the “perfection” of this ideal. Democracies may be the “end of history” as Francis Fukuyama likes to put it, but real results occur in authoritarian systems -- especially when these constructs are linked with a capitalist ideology. Such systems incur substantial dividends in terms of economic progress, political stability and international power projection -- but like the Israelites living under their new king, it comes with a price.

Throughout history, the majority of men and women have always been willing to offer their freedom in exchange for the security and peace of mind brought about by government. And equally so, other men (usually the strongest) have been just as willing to answer their call for subjugation.

Western countries have historically sought to strike a greater balance of government and individual liberties than those conformist societies of the East. The American war of Independence, the French Revolution, and nearly every civil war from time immemorial are examples of the human hunger for freedom from tyranny and unnecessary government imposed burden.

The inherent struggle of Western man seems to be between wanting to be subjugated, but only as much as is required or is necessary to fulfil his need for peace, order and predictability. Historically, the problem with this theory is that once this metaphoric snowball gets rolling downhill, it picks up speed and charts an often all too unpredictable path.

Tim Hetherington: Global witness

When British filmmaker and journalist Tim Hetherington was killed by a Libyan army mortar shell outside the city of Misrata on April 20, it brought home to me the indiscriminate nature of war. In all likelihood, the Libyan soldiers dropping the round down the mortar tube were unaware of the journalist's presence in the mix of rebel forces they were targeting.

And he didn't die alone that day. Embedded with Tim was colleague and Getty Image photojournalist Chris Hondros. Chris had taken shrapnel to the head, and died later that day. Their two riddled bodies were unceremoniously loaded aboard a van, driven to a ferry boat, and shipped out of Misrata.

Upon hearing the news, I wondered what would posses someone to willingly place themselves in a situation that runs a high risk of bodily harm or death. Tim's most renowned work was the war documentary Restrepo (nominated for an Oscar) which also saw him embedded with troops in an active combat zone -- this time with a US Army platoon located in an outpost in the Afghanistan mountains.

I suppose the majority of sane individuals would dismiss him as having a death wish, as most would banish the thought of leaving the comfort and safety of home only to witness the horrors of battle. But there is something about the war correspondent that has always intrigued me.

Perhaps it is the carelessness in which they toss themselves into such a macabre venture, or the desire to participate in something few others get to. But more than this, there seems to be an innate need to bear witness to such historic events, to absorb the rawest human emotion, and to connect personally with the sufferings of other people.

I'm not sure what Tim's motives were in Libya. Perhaps it was an ego thing -- an ambition to create a lasting portfolio of notable work -- that propelled him into his work. Maybe it was the adrenaline addiction brought on by combat (so widely claimed by war correspondents) that kept sending him back into harm's way. Whatever the reasoning, his presence on the battlefield -- both in life and in death -- enabled the world to bear witness to the savagery of the Libyan civil war.

The cynic in me wonders if he thought he could get away with it all. Movies and television has left us with a perception that the good guy always lives to fight another day. We identify with the protagonist: though he takes a beating and watches his buddies drop on the beach beside him, he somehow manages to make it through the adventure fairly intact -- if not enriched by the experience. I truly believe we carry this sense of entitlement with us in our daily lives, both individually and collectively.

Nobody thinks they're going to be the poor old schlep that spends two years training for war only to step off the landing craft and onto a land mine. Just look at a community that has been rocked by natural disaster or a mass shooting. “This is supposed to happen to other people" they say. "I never thought this would happen to me.” 

I don't think journalists are the exception to the rule. In all likelihood these people are even more aware of the risks they are taking. However, they are probably falsely reassured by their record of having beaten the odds. Does this mean they should stop doing what that they're doing?

Without such individuals, there would be only the embellished and misconstrued tales from the soldiers themselves. As a society, we have come to expect such invasive coverage of current events. We want to be privy to all the details. It informs our opinions, which in turn leads to the development of our public policy.

I believe that Tim thought he would make it out of Libya alive. Despite the ferocity of the battle that day, I doubt any of the embedded reporters in Tim's little group could imagine they would be on the receiving end of a mortar barrage. I'm sure that in their minds eye they would surely see another Libyan sun set, perhaps enjoy a refreshing shower in a nearby Holiday Inn, then head off to the next adrenaline packed assignment.

And like the local victims of the conflict, I'm sure that none of the journalists who survived the mortar attack of April 20 could leave what they had witnessed behind.

Click here to see photos of Tim's last day.

Lies - a new official language

Apparently there's a dog poop problem in Paris. No, seriously. It's everywhere: soiling fashionable footwear, flung about by passing mopeds and filling the air with noxious fumes. In fact, it has gotten so bad that the Parisian authorities have called in a force of undercover Police officers to issue substantial fines to those who brazenly perpetuate such odious acts.

I can just imagine how this goes down:

POLICE OFFICER

You there, halt!

WOMAN WITH DOG

Who me?

POLICE OFFICER

Your dog soiled the sidewalk, and you did not clean it up.

WOMAN WITH DOG

(defiantly)

Napoleon did no such thing!

POLICE OFFICER

You named your dog Napoleon?

(shaking his head)

Regardless, here is a fine for not scooping up the poo poo.

WOMAN WITH DOG

This is not Napoleon's poo poo -- and I am offended at such an accusation!

POLICE OFFICER

But miss, I saw it with my own eyes!

WOMAN WITH DOG

Fine. Then prove it.

So this was the train of thought that led me to a realization: if it wasn't for the video camera I think humankind would be a completely dishonest bunch.

I suppose if my hypothetical Police officer had video evidence he could prove his case beyond a shadow of a doubt. But shouldn't we the jury take the Sheriff's word for it?

Now I'm not talking about the integrity of Police or trusted authorities. What I am interested in is our general reluctance to take any anyone's word as gospel, even of those we should undoubtedly trust.

It used to be that a man's word was his bond. A "yes" was a "yes", and anything but this was to infringe on his honour and integrity. As a kid, there was nothing that got my boiling more than someone who lied to me. I felt it completely unacceptable and unjustifiable. And from my naive and innocent perspective, I was sure the rest of the world saw it the same way too.

I'm not sure when our collective penchant for dishonesty came about. I suppose if we go back far enough we'll end up with the ol' spinsters themselves, Adam and Eve. But I'm talking about a more recent phenomenon, call it the “evolution of the lie."

Perhaps the Cultures of the past had a clearer understanding of the prohibition against lying. The act was usually referred to as “bearing false witness” -- and thanks to Western civilization's Judeo-Christian roots most of our ancestors were fully aware of this verbal taboo. Regardless of the violators motive, to transgress this cardinal rule was an offense in and of itself.

Morally however, our present day media-saturated society views the concept of honest discourse somewhat differently -- and perhaps with a little contempt as well.

So what drives us to lie? Usually we tell them for two reasons: To get away with something we know is religiously or morally wrong; or to usurp something that is not rightfully ours. My guess is that nearly every lie in history falls into these two categories. But what if we didn't lie. What would life be like?

In the Ricky Gervais film The Invention of Lying we're given a glimpse into a world without the ability to lie. Everyone in this truthful world comes off as being a bit silly and gullible, because no one has developed the skills necessary to lie. When Gervais character Mark realizes his ability to deceive, he exploits it -- to his own detriment -- for monetary and personal gain. 

But let's face it. Our society rewards liars. From the crooks on Wall Street to the mild-mannered guest on Maury, we compensate these individuals even though we're fairly certain they are lying to us through their teeth.

I sense the ease with which we tell lies is strongly linked to a host of “environmental” factors – things like blind loyalty to employers or government, greed for money or lack thereof, sexual impulses, influence of media -- and so on.

And the lie is very much linked to one's perception of truth. We see this all the time in the news: Government spin doctors talking their way out of a scandal; Company PR reps misrepresenting or hiding the true nature of an oil spill or nuclear meltdown; Charlies Sheen's denial of mental insanity and drug use.

It's my gut feeling that one factor more then any other is responsible for our desensitization: advertising. The art of the advertisement is to make you aware of a product, then convince you of your need for it. You don't see ads for apples or nuts or celery, but you do see plenty of ads for things that aren't good for you. If a cave man got de-thawed and examined our current crop of TV commercials I'm sure he would be left scratching his head thinking “what does skydiving have to do with cheese cubes?”

My favourite deceivers are the lottery commercials. But you say “yeah, but someone wins those.” Sure, though it won't be you. Statistically, the odds of matching all six numbers on your Lotto 6/49 ticket are 1 in 13,983,816. To make you feel better, your odds of being murdered are 1 in 18,000. That's not to say this lottery thing is technically a lie, but it's close enough to one for me to make it so. (To see a world with truthful adds, click here.)

Joseph Goebbels (the Nazi propaganda Minister) once stated: "If you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually come to believe it." That's what is so dangerous about the environment we've created for ourselves. Think about how often you see the same commercial through the course of an evening's TV viewing. Repetition is a key to remembering things. And if we as a society are espousing and regurgitating these things over and over we'll undoubtedly start to believe our own propaganda.

On the personal and individual level, there is a difference between the way the two sexes approach lying. Apparently men prefer the bald faced lie: “No honey, I'm not sleeping with my co-worker.” Women prefer rather to omit vital details and obscure the truth: “Honey, we weren't sleeping together." Men tend to exaggerate, women tend to minimize.

Men also lie more than women. The average man lies over 1000 times a year. This compares with just over 700 times a year for women.

So what effect does this have on us?  I guess it takes us back to the video camera, recording us and holding us to our word. Without some sort of accountability, both individually and corporately, the spoils of dishonesty will always tempt us to the inevitable lie.   

Mulroney: The educational Opera

Only in Canada would we turn the story of a mediocre Prime Minister into an opera. Perhaps we're a more cultured bunch, but equally unique is our ability to produce films with little intention of ever recouping the invested capital.

Yes, I'm talking about Mulroney: The Opera.  Having never seen the film I'm not yet ready to pass judgement on it, but it does look like a glowing example of Canadian tax payers money put hard to work. And it actually looks kind of entertaining.

But it was an interview featured on TV Ontario's The Agenda that planted a curious question in my overworked cerebral cortex. What was this films raison d'etre -- its purpose? To give some context, interviewer Steve Paikin asked the films director Larry Weinstein why the film had such a small release. Weinstein nonchalantly replied that 72 screens nationwide was a lot for a Canadian film -- despite an extremely short theatrical run of a only two days. Seeing that the project was initially financed by the CBC, I'm guessing Weinstein didn't have too much at stake if the thing bombed.

Part of me was proud of Weinstein's "whatever" attitude towards the financial profitability of the film. Somehow I couldn't picture his hypothetical American counterpart saying the same thing.

But the other half of me felt like throwing an Iraqi shoe at the guy. Not that he wasn't charming and well spoken. He was. It's just that his viewpoint, be it true to reality as it was, did not represent my expectations of what the Canadian Film Industry should be.

Now don't get me wrong. I don't think an Avatar type investment/return in every Canadian production is what were looking for here. Nor does my philosophy preclude a complete abandonment of our unique Canadian-esque heritage or creative processes (whatever that looks like).

If I heard Weinstein right, he saw his five year labour of love as a investment in Canadian culture, possibly influencing and educating future generations of Canadians. I guess this "film as educational tool" attitude is somewhat justified considering the majority of the financing for Mulroney came from the tax payers themselves.

But it says very little for future projects, especially those which strive to reach a larger, more international and in particular -- a more commercially oriented market. Being the hungry beast that it is, a feature film requires a huge capital investment-- an investment which needs to be recouped if one ever expects to have an opportunity to make another film.

This isn't such a problem in Canada where so few films are made anyway, and where content is often highly scrutinized for its Canadianishness before it ever sees the light of production. But is it possible that Canada will ever see an American style movie industry with all its private venture trappings and blockbuster appeal?

Given that Canada's market is approximately 10% the size of a comparative US market, Mulroney: The Operas opening on 72 screens equates to about 720 screens south of the border. This sounds like a lot, until we consider that The Tourist opened on 2756 screens. Given a run of two days, my hunch is that the theaters involved didn't see much commercial benefit in showing the flick. This shouldn't be seen as unusual, as only 1% of Canadian box office receipts actually come from Canadian films.

This isn't to say that our films aren't interesting or are culturally insignificant. It speaks more to an inherent Canadian bias against private investment in “Hollywood North” then it does anything else. Ironically, the price of the public controlling the Canadian film industries purse strings is simply that the general movie going public would rather see more of something else from somewhere other than here.

The barriers erected by the Canadian government to prevent well known American talent from appearing in publicly funded films is an example of such protectionism. Though understandably justifiable (after all, who wants some pretty American actress walking off with Canadian taxpayers money) – the policy inevitably curtails creative and entrepreneurial efforts to capitalize on a film stars global popularity and special talents.

The situation we've created for ourselves is a self-perpetuating and all too familiar one – our most talented and promising actors head South, get a big gig on some big US network and buy a mansion in LA. Without a doubt their suntanned hides end up getting featured on the ever-eager-to-promote-anything Canadian Entertainment Tonight: Canada, where they fondly reminisce about the good life back “home” and reassure us that, yes, they are still essentially Canadian.

But of course we true Canucks are too polite to resent their backstabbing ways, and we wish them well in their new found life of wealth and fame. We accept their defection to the land of pay-for-it yourself health care and selfish individualism -- only to claim them as our own during those identity searing conversations about what it is to be an insecure Canadian.

Okay, so I'm being a little facetious. But what of the Canadian film industry, eh? It certainly isn't suffering for lack of talent. But is our socialist bent hurting more than it's helping?

I once heard Paul Gross (Due North, Passchendaele) discuss the hurdles he had to jump through to get financing for his films. His conclusion was that private funding was absolutely necessary and mostly missing from the Canadian filmmaking experience; that government funding still had a role to play; and that for better or worse things in the Canadian entertainment industry had to change.

Quite understandably, the big American studio system that developed in the 1920's through 50's never developed in Canada. Companies like Warner Bros, Columbia, Fox and Paramount have no Northern equivalent. And unlike the publicly funded system in Canada at the time, Hollywood was for the most part profit driven. The studios controlled pretty much every aspect of the movie making process – from filming on the massive sound stages, to production, to distribution -- even extending to control and ownership of the movie theatres themselves.

That wasn't so much the case after the 1948 Supreme court ruling abolishing such practices, but the foundation of an effective and thriving entertainment industry had already been established. In Canada, the CBC was pretty much the be all and end all of production. Nearly everything that was made featured a satirical political slant, and because the industry was publicly funded content primarily promoted the values and beliefs of the average Canadian.

There's been a host of Canadian directorial success stories too- David Cronenburg, Atom Egoyan, Ivan Reitman, Paul Haggis, James Cameron – just to name a few. But rarely did their notoriety come as a result of a truly Canadian project.

That's not to say that Canada hasn't had a few random hits. Passchendaele ( a big budget war movie which included a $5 M dollar grant from the Alberta government), Bon Cop, Bad Cop, Mike Clattenburg's hilariously vulgar Trailer Park Boys TV show and film, The Trotsky -- are all examples of fairly recent breakthroughs that “made it” and had notable Canadian and international recognition. For the most part however these works were still products of the Canadian tax payer.

But I can't remember the last time I heard an American producer crying for more government involvement in getting a film made. Perhaps this is due to their legacy of self-determination slash fear of tyranny mentality that drives them to seek a profit margin with their films. By allowing for substantial private investment, they seem be able to maintain and support an industry which makes available future funds to both deserving and talented filmmakers.

Then again, perhaps the Canadian film industry is simply too fragile to stand on its own, or the population base too few to validate the huge capital investment these films entail. Perhaps government should be there to ensure Canadian culture is promoted and protected from the polluting influence of the those damn Yankees.

But like so many other incidents of Canadian brain drain, if we don't allow for reduced government regulation and increased private funding, it is likely we'll get more of the same culturally significant yet rarely seen films. All I know is that if I had spent five years making a film, I would want it to end up as something more than a high school teaching aid.

The Tourist: It's no Monet

Monet meets von Donnersmarck

I'm not sure that I've seen a film as bad as The Tourist. I did walk out of Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay (only to walk into the Al Pacino disaster 88 Minutes), and I proudly lasted at least half an hour during Matthew Broderick's epic Inspector Gadget. But I have to say, none of them eluded my senses quite like this one did.

When headliners like Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie sign on to a project helmed by an Oscar winning director, you figure you should at least give it chance, right?

Apparently not. I don't know how many times I confusedly shook my head waiting for the actual movie to begin. The first ten minutes included every known and overdone movie cliche: the sting van equipped with resident coffee drinking surveillance team; the boring and obvious CSI based pseudo-science of the Interpol agents; the all too predictable and perfectly timed protagonist escape.

But the film really goes to hash when the Countess Elise (Jolie) meets Math teacher Frank (Depp). I imagine the writers thought they had prosed themselves a witty exchange for their lead characters initial meeting on the bullet train. But the lack of chemistry between the pair and eventual absence of any significant character development causes the implied tension crafted early on to smack of hollow manipulation.

It was as if writer/director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck had created the monstrosity using random clippings and deleted scenes gathered from the cutting room floor. What exactly was I watching? Was it a comedy? A thriller?

It is telling that von Donnersmarck had trouble categorizing his own film. He called The Tourist "a travel romance with thriller elements" – whatever that is -- “but that if he had to choose between the two, he would choose comedy.”

Except that it didn't make me laugh. Check that. I laughed at things I wasn't supposed to laugh at. Like the pathetically boring boat chase through the canals of Venice (if you haven't seen the film imagine two people your grandparents age chasing each other on electric scooters). The chase climaxes with a spectacularly unimpressive and paralyzingly slow collision of two boats reminiscent of an Austin Powers film. And that's about as exciting as it gets.

Everything in this film -- from the writing to the choreography to the acting -- suffered from this apathetic malaise. Depp seems less then enamoured with his role, and besides Jolie's incredibly tiny size nothing body and overdone haughty glances, not much can be said for her performance either. Both actors seem to be applying the minimum effort required.

Beautiful people will only carry a film so far. At the end of the day, all those steamy looks and charming smiles won't matter if the characters aren't given anything intelligible to say. I was truly trying to like this film, but the complete absence of witty or original dialogue and lack of decent action sequences left me thinking about doing laundry and washing dishes.

Needless to say I felt nothing for the film. I didn't laugh or tense up in suspense. I didn't root for the good guys. In fact, the whole thing left me numb and indifferent. It was like I was watching an existentialist essay on the nothingness of nothingness.

I have this sneaking suspicion that The Tourist is one of those Pink Floyd The Dark Side of the Moon meets The Wizard of Oz deals; where if you synch up the record with the movie, smoke a few joints and just chill out -- you end up with a completely surreal and other worldly viewing experience.

Not that the visuals of The Tourist weren't stunning. Perhaps the beautiful environs of Venice caused the cast and crew to forget they were filming a big-budget action/thriller/comedy/drama. With it's beautiful cerulean blues, ornate architecture and flowing canals, even the artist's Canaletto and Monet found themselves gloriously enraptured with the place. However during their stay these artists still managed to produce something resembling art.

What is amazing is that The Tourist grossed $67 M domestically, with a final worldwide tally somewhere north of $260 M. My guess is that the international flavour brought by Jolie and Depp had something do with the project recouping the $100 M investment made by Columbia. It shudders me to think how much of that Depp and Jolie walked away with.

So I suppose if you're captured by a throng of overzealous Johnny Depp fans and forced to watch this instantly forgettable eye candy classic, do what I should have done -- whip out the secret recipe.

The Teenage Millionaire

Since our first hairy ancestor discovered the secret of fire in that dismal cave all those years ago, humankind has made some pretty impressive leaps forward. We began as hunters and gatherers, and when the ranks of buffalo and mammoths were growing thin, we discovered the practice of crop cultivation. Along the way we picked up everything from organized religion and warfare, as well as government and legal practices that form the foundation of our societies today.

Progressing through the 18th century "age of enlightenment" with its leaps forward in philosophy, science, and intellectual thought; the 19th century with its industrial revolution, we come upon the most impressive century of them all: the 20th.

Undoubtedly the generation that saw the rise of the airplane, the combustion automobile and the rocket ship lived through an uncommon era. Never had civilization progressed so quickly through the cosmos of knowledge. Suddenly, he could now cure diseases from which humans had been suffering since the very beginning. He created machines and computers to help him with the toil of his work. His understanding of everything from the macro to the infinite was unprecedented. It was as if the Tower of Babel had emerged from the sands of time and pointed again to the majesty of mankind.

But perhaps the most curious happening of them all has to be the teenage millionaire.

George Lucas: Merchant extraordinaire

George Lucas and I have this love-hate relationship. Okay, so he probably doesn't know I exist. But I feel like he's had an influential role in my life. I mean, what would my childhood have been without the exciting escapades of Luke Skywalker and Indiana Jones?

The amazing thing about George is his ability to stay "relevant" through several decades, despite his rehashing of the same old battered and overdone story lines.  When I think of his portfolio of films, he's really only told two, albeit long winded, stories  --   Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Wars. Sure, George's ability to stretch the basic action/adventure premise of these two films into a run of more than ten films is nothing short of brilliant, if not only from a entrepreneurial point of view.

But the films were only the catalyst. There was also The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles TV series, the numerous Lucasfilm video games, the Clone Wars cartoon series -- on and on it went. But looming largest of them all was: the toys. George knew the money was in the merchandise.

Part of the deal with Star Wars was that George got to hold onto the merchandising rights. And it paid healthy dividends. Thanks to these two franchises and their bountiful produce, my buddy George Lucas is worth an estimated $3 billion today.

I can't think of any film that capitalized on the untapped resources of childhood allowances more than Star Wars. Up until 1978, there simply wasn't a movie/toy connection. At least not on the level George had unleashed. And what's more, walk into any big box store today and you'll still find rows of these products lining the shelves --  packages almost identical to the ones launched over 30 years ago.

I worry that George has let the figurative merchandising genie out of the bottle. I don't think it's a grand Capitalist conspiracy by him or Hollywood to milk every child and parent out of their hard earned money. But I do see an explosion of movie and television related merchandise, started by George and championed by companies like Disney and Pixar (a division of Lucasfilm and now owned by Disney), that seems to brand everything in sight with the faces of our most beloved fictional characters.

However there is a more disturbing trend. This is the blatant and obvious use of entertainment for the sole purpose of promoting products to kids. Not to name name's, but the whole Beyblade phenomenon kind of worries me. As much as my kids love the toys, the show is nothing but a shameless self-promoting thirty minute advertisement with the sole purpose of enticing an emerging generation to buy their products.

In fact, the Japanese seem to have this corner of the market covered. The other two popular Japanese youth related products, Pokéman and Bakugan, are also heavily co-dependent on their related television shows. The onscreen world is simply an extension of the child's play world the products themselves promote, and vice versa. Maybe the nature of profit oriented societies like Japan or the US are more receptive to the intertwining of entertainment primarily for the benefit of commerce.       

This hypothesis leads me back to the concept of using a film as vehicle for merchandising. I suppose we've come to expect this activity to a certain extent. And the two essential elements -- film and its accompanying "stuff" -- are clearly going to be part and parcel in any new child oriented movie or television production for the indefinite future. But the deliberate blurring of this boundary between art and commerce, entertainment and consumerism -- is a fairly recent innovation and I believe, purposely understated.

Not that art and entertainment have been or have to be exclusive from commerce. That's not what I'm saying here. But I do see an emerging trend of specifically tailored advertising-oriented entertainment geared towards a younger demographic who aren't aware (or don't care) that they're being targeted.

Every generation of artists and entertainers have in general sought to be compensated for their works and effort. I'm sure those who witnessed Shakespeare's plays paid a pence or two to take in the performances, but the emphasis to this day remains the celebration of the art itself, not what can be capitalized or gained from it. To concoct a storyline in the name of "entertainment" for the sole purpose of selling associated merchandise seems a suspect activity in the least.

As Shakespeare wrote in Romeo and Juliet: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." In translation, let's call these things for what they are. I for one do not want to see the entertainment my family watches diluted by such meaningless dribble.

Where's Weiwei?

Weiwei: on a state imposed vacation. Copyright Ai Weiwei.

No doubt the great Chinese firewall has already flagged this blog and added it to the list of thousands of blacklisted no-go sites simply for featuring the name of this prominent Chinese artist and activist. For those who aren't familiar with the name, Ai Weiwei is the son of one of China's greatest poets, Ai Qing -- and an influential mind in his own right.

Not only has his work been featured at the Tate Gallery in London, The Venice Bienalle and dozens of other well known galleries across the world, but he also had a hand in designing the Bird's Nest Stadium that featured prominently in the Beijing Olympics. (Go here for a more in depth profile of Weiwei) 

Most of us figured Weiwei was "protected by pictures" as one article on the artist put it, his fame and artistic legacy creating a bulwark against any ill intent from the governing authorities. But alas, the Chinese authorities have finally succeeded in "disappearing" Weiwei and silencing, at least for the mean time, one of China's most outspoken intellects.

According to Al Jazeera, the whole thing went down when Weiwei and his assistant attempted to board a flight to Hong Kong. I can only imagine his surprise at being approached by a gang of plain clothes police officers, being ushered into a sterile, fluorescent lit interrogation room and told to shut up and be quiet.

Apparently police then raided his house, pillaged his personal belongings and computers, questioned his wife and closest acquaintances-- and left without giving any information as to what was actually happening.

Reading between the lines, I say something Weiwei said rubbed someone in Communist Central the wrong way. I suppose Weiwei or some of his closest friends may know exactly what that was-- but more likely it was an accumulation of "subversive" activities that triggered the state sponsored kidnapping.

Weiwei is quite well known for his criticism of the Chinese government in its handling of the 2008 Shichuan Earthquake, as well its culpability in shoddy school building standards which resulted in the huge number of child casualties. In 2009, as a result of ties to an investigation into the school collapses his blog was shut down, and he was so severely injured by a police baton later that year he required emergency brain surgery.

Perhaps the most ominous sign of his impending disappearance was the escalation of Chinese anti-Weiwei activities. Not only had his international travel privileges been revoked, but earlier this year his studio was demolished in a high profile act of retribution by "local authorities."

What is clear is that Weiwei's disappearance bears a striking similarity to those millions of disappearances perpetrated throughout modern history. Interestingly, Weiwei's father was also disappeared to a labour camp during China's Cultural Revolution in 1958. However, this isn't all that surprising.

Intellectual, academic and artistic elites in such societies usually bear the first wave of violence under such brutal regimes. The Khmer Rouge followed this route, imprisoning and executing not only the previously mentioned, but also primary and secondary teachers as well.

It was also commonplace in the satellites of the former Soviet Union. Deeply ingrained in the mind of those who lived behind the Iron Curtain was an understanding that if radical thoughts became outwardly manifest -- either in a meeting, published in an underground newspaper or what have you -- the footsteps of the secret police may not be far behind. Knowledge of the dreaded Gulags and what went on there wasn't exactly a state secret -- and that's exactly the kind of control those in charge wanted. 

Freedom of speech is something we in the modern democracies consider a given. Political correctness and minority rights may limit expression in certain social circles or positions of authority, but for the most part we participate in it without constraint and without realising it. In my mind, freedom of speech is the same as freedom of thought or freedom of conscience. It is tied in with those other cherished "rights" like the freedom to practice one's religion without fear of retribution, or vote based on one's deeply ingrained beliefs.

Without this freedom -- as is so obviously apparent and common in these controlling hegemonies -- fear runs rampant. Fear is what keeps the public in step with the ideals of the republic. It threatens imprisonment or torture for those who would dare "subvert" the party line and prevents the open and transparent sharing of ideas that allow others to make up their own minds and draw their own conclusions.

Perhaps the most obvious byproduct of fear is a lack of freedom, period. The box in which human behaviour has to operate in such societies is unnaturally bland and unnecessarily limiting. Totalitarianism has its own oppressive flavor, and it is only magnified when coupled with Asia's conformist corporate mindset. But this doesn't excuse the Chinese government from locking away one of its greatest thinkers.

How will history look back at those who perpetrated such acts? My guess is that those who write this chapter will just make that little bit of info disappear as well.

Terry Jones and the Mob of Kandahar

When Rev. Terry Jones torched a copy of the Qur'an after a bizarre show trial condemning the Islamic holy book, he touched off a firestorm of protests across the Muslim World. The most violent reaction was in Afghanistan, where a violent mob attacked and murdered 10 UN workers before being repelled by compound security guards.

This left me pondering how one event led to the other. What does an attack on UN workers have to do with a book burning in Florida? And what rationale drives such extremism?

Much of the mainstream news reporting I witnessed was extremely subjective in its condemnation of Jones. But it was more disgust at the 'hater' then anything else.  As far as I know he was simply expressing his First Amendment rights and didn't violate any state or federal laws. But everyone acted as if we were all going to reap the whirlwind of radical Islam.

The first time he threatened to pull this stunt everyone freaked out too. U.S President Obama begged him not to do it. One guy even offered to buy him a car.

But I guess even the allure of a shiny new Chevy Cobalt couldn't sway Mr. Jones from his ultimate goal. For Muslims around the world, the burning was the gravest of insults. For the Obama administration, it was feared the event would fire up the Taliban and make their task of converting Afghanistan to a democracy all the more difficult. 

It's not like this is the first time Islam has faced a bit of blasphemy. But I imagine the memories of the 2005 "Muhammad with a turban bomb" Danish cartoon riots got everyone worried. Those events resulted in the deaths of over a hundred people -- all over a few ridiculous drawings. 

If I were Mr. Jones, I'd be taking lessons in dodging radical Islamic assassins from Salmon Rushdie. Apparently even Hezbollah has joined the fray and put a $2.4 M bounty on Jones's head.
 
But it's almost laughable to think about an outrage like this happening in the West. In fact, it just wouldn't. Not that there's a lack of things to get offended about. For starters, there's Charlie Sheen's unscripted Violent Torpedo of Truth tour with its potential throng of the dissatisfied, disillusioned and refund hungry fans. 

And although mobs anywhere are prone to irrational and near instant expressions of violence, something else is surely at work prodding and directing such seemingly irrational behaviour. What is so insulting to the Kandahar mob that they would slit the throats of persons unrelated to the offender himself?

I guess in their minds it is all related. Given, an attack on a UN compound to avenge a perceived religious slight involves a fairly substantial leap in logic -- one I'm certain wouldn't stand a test of law. But in that part of the world honor killings, blasphemy and sacrilege are grounds for justifiable homicide. Somehow insulting a dead prophet or the burning of a sacred text is worthy of bloodletting, even if the target isn't Jones himself. In this case, any Western-ish person or institution would seem to suffice as a legitimate target.

As with the 2003 Canal Hotel bombing in Baghdad which killed 22 UN staff, the violence in both cases seems misdirected and wasteful. But deep seated grievances and hatred are not always rational.

However, this leap in logic is not limited to the uneducated and impoverished
hordes of Kandahar. I remember feeling the exact same sense of disconnect when the neo-con hawks of the Bush administration began constructing their case for war in Iraq back in early 2003. It seems that if you can whip up enough righteous indignation, sprinkle it with a little fear and disinformation and pitch it passionately to the masses -- you may just get away with murder, or something like it.   

I'm not about qualifying levels of intolerance, or trying to understand the madness of the masses, but I'm certain actions that result in the killing of innocents should not turn a book burner into a scapegoat -- no matter how "intolerant" his views are. 

Ironically, the only thing that saved one UN worker from certain death at the hands of the Kandahar mob was his ability to recite verses from the Qur'an.

Perhaps both sides should focus on setting aside their religious zeal and intolerance and base their opinions on actual religious teachings. After all, Jesus' own teaching (who Jones claims to represent and Islam claims as a prophet) states: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God."

Our Uncle, North Korea

If North Korea was a relative, it would be that drunk neurotic Uncle the cops pulled over for running a red light and not wearing a helmet on his moped. Not that I actually have one of those.

Then he disappears for a while and goes underground, and life doesn't feel quite as fulfilling without him around. Somehow we've come to miss all those bizarre antics and unfiltered outbursts.

But sooner or later he's bound to show up again, probably at some family picnic sporting a completely new hairdo and wearing a silver polyester tracksuit. And life begins to get its flavour back.

With recent world headlines commandeered by events in Japan and Libya, it appears our favourite Uncle has disappeared once again. So what's going on in that tiny isolated corner of the world?

I always thought it would be interesting to visit North Korea, or the Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea (DPRK) as they like to call it. Apparently only a handful of people get issued North Korean "travel" visas every year. And from what I've seen of the DPRK (based on the limited media sources that have gotten into the country), the regime is very keen to present a carefully crafted image of itself.

Having never been there myself, I must live vicariously through other's experiences in order to cobble together an image of this unique country and its people. The best examples of these "snippets" that I've come across were featured on the Canadian travel show Departures, and the Vice Guide to North Korea on the website VBS.TV.

Both share common experiences. The difficulty in entering the country, the mandatory government sponsored "chaperone", the mandatory government travel schedule, the Communist indoctrination sessions featuring a lecture on the evil Imperialist aggressors -- all culminating in a visit to a bizarre and barren gift shop.

And what struck me the most about these visits was the emptiness... Everywhere these tourists went they were alone (besides the regime babysitter). The few highways were empty, the streets and museums deserted, even the gift shop. It was as if North Korea was nothing but an automatic and self-propelling construct -- devoid of any form of life and spontaneity.

But I suppose this isn't too far from the truth. In an attempt to control its own population and to prevent the infiltration of anti-communist ideas from the outside world, the regime has instilled a most thorough and effective mind control program. State propoganda begins at an early age and appears to pervade all sectors of North Korean culture.  It shows up in schools, work places -- even on state concocted comedy television shows -- all with the aim of "enlightening" the masses and turning Kim Jong-il and his Juche ideology into all encompassing, self-reliant gospel.

I'm not sure where the people went, but the World Food Program assures us that the masses do in fact exist. Not only do they sprawl the countryside tilling away at the dusty earth, but they face serious food shortages as well. A Nov. 2008 WFP post shows a staggering 8.7 million people (out of a total population of 24 million) needed food assistance, but chronic drought and collective farming issues continue to dog the nation.

According to Wikipedia:

In 2006, Amnesty International reported that a national nutrition survey conducted by the North Korean government, the World Food Programme, and UNICEF found that 7% of children were severely malnourished; 37% were chronically malnourished; 23.4% were underweight; and one in three mothers was malnourished and anaemic as the result of the lingering effect of the famine.

Even though the regime in Pyongyang are the recipients of the first fruits of any harvest, I don't think they are ignorant about the suffering of their people. Nor do I think they willfully propagate it. But arcane economic policies and paranoid self-imposed isolation have certainly amplified North Korea's troubles. Perhaps only Cuba has held onto Communist ideals as long as the North, and faced similar US sanctions to boot.  But if the Arab revolution has taught us anything, it has shown us that a country's identity is not its leadership or dogma, but its people.

So how about a North Korean revolution? Could an Arab style upheaval be in the cards for this geographicaly isolated soap opera of a nation?

Not likely, I'm afraid. Kim Jong-il and his cronies seem to have a death grip on any information that enters and exits the North. This includes the Internet (the primary weapon of the Arab revolution), phone communications, radio and TV. It doesn't help that the North Koreans' most influential neighbour China is equally as tight fisted in its approach to personal freedoms.

Recent sabre rattling from the North, exemplified by the sinking of the South Korean warship ROKS Cheonan (and subsequent fiery dialogue), is a portent that regime change is afoot. The hope is that cooler heads will prevail when Kim Jong-il steps aside, that somehow the creepy dynastic succession of the Il family would be put asunder -- but this is probably not going to be the case. As in most dictatorship successions, the moderates rarely succeed in getting their point across. The military power behind the throne usually wins out at the end of the day, leading to more of the same policies and paranoia.

What is obvious to us outside the bubble  -- the manipulation and oppression of the people in the "Hermit Kingdom" by the Korean Workers' Party and Il regime  -- is that our awareness usually doesn't translate into anything more than snap judgements and detached voyeurism. The military action in Libya is the result of world empathy for the suffering of Libyans at the hands of their own ruler.

Now I don't see how the silent suffering of the North Korean people is any different, but I do see how intervention in Northern Asia would be extremely costly and likely quite detrimental to everyone involved.

But from time to time we do catch a rare glimpse behind the curtain, a glimpse of what our dear Uncle could be like if he just reformed his ways and smartened up a little. A vibrant and thriving South Korea is just such an example.

And even though we'd all like to slap him with a wet noodle and shake some sense into him, I suppose we'll have to resign ouselves to the fact that he has to make the journey back on his own.