It’s hard not to notice the general backlash against Starbucks in recent months. Not only has the company’s stock plummeted; everyone and their mother offers coffee of some sort now and their ads are almost solely designed around bashing the “snobby” attitude of people who still get their over-caffeinated drinks from the Seattle Espressorati.

Companies like Dunkin Donuts and McDonalds are trying to shame people into drinking their coffee by making them feel bad about going to an uppity, expensive coffee house like Starbucks. It’s genius marketing, but it’s not fair marketing, and it kind of annoys me.

First of all, millions of people buy coffee at Starbucks and they don’t do it because they think they’re better than other people; they just want some caffeine. And yet, corporations are hell bent on reminding us again and again that there are two very different classes of people who absolutely cannot coincide and it’s generally a very bad thing to be in the upper class of those people.

First of all, this kind of black and white division is BS - sure there’s an economic divide, but that does not mean there’s a strict intellectual divide. Lower and middle class people can be incredibly intelligent and vice versa. To suggest, as Dunkin Donuts does in its ads that people are confused and overwhelmed by the “upper class” mentality of Starbucks and other coffee houses is downright insulting to the intelligence of every American. Do we really have to keep pretending that other languages and countries are too hard for us to wrap our brains around. We’re the only major nation in the world that still thinks we’re too good to learn other languages or accept other cultures; it doesn’t make things any better when irresponsible companies try to use this mentality to their advantage and guilt people into buying their product instead (I’m speaking of the Dunkin ads making fun of the Italian and French used on many coffee shop menus).

But, I’m not quite as annoyed at Dunkin Donuts as I am at McDonald’s. At least Dunkin’s ads try to be humorous; I don’t think I’ve ever seen a humorous McDonald’s ad. Their recent advertising campaign for lattes basically has a pair of stereotypical yuppy coffee drinkers enjoying their coffee when one says “McDonald’s now has lattes”. They both then go off about how much they hate being yuppies and start flouting just how dumb they are. “I don’t know where Paraguay is”….”Paraguay?” It’s insulting and demeaning, and if anyone is actually this insecure about their place in the world; well they deserve to drink a crappy cup of McDonald’s coffee.

Are we supposed to believe that the entire Starbucks customer base is made up of stuck up yuppies who are really a bunch of stereotypical men and women who couldn’t find the capital of their own state on a map and would rather watch football and read gossip mags than read a book and listen to jazz? So, in reality they are all just waiting to break free of their pretentious shells and rush off to…McDonald’s. Because I’m sure McDonald’s has some of the best coffee around.

And of course, their burgers are the best around. And lest your friends are watching and label you as a yuppy; if you go to a real restaurant and pay more than $5 for a burger, you are clearly too intelligent to exist in this close minded, self-devouring world. How dare you realize just how awful McDonald’s is…you must be Anti-American.

I don’t post political things very often, but I found this post over at Huffington Post rather interesting. I’ve been a vocal Barack Obama supporter since he spoke at the 2004 Democratic Presidential Convention, so it will come as no surprise that I agree with ZZ Packer in just about everything he says in his article about Geraldine Ferraro’s misguided, incredibly incompetent statements about Obama’s journey to where he currently stands. Here’s an excerpt:

The first straw was when Clinton comparing herself to LBJ and Obama to MLK–nothing wrong there, unless you stop to consider that Obama happens to be running for the exact same commander-in-chief slot as she, so why not compare them both to LBJ? Then there was the little matter of her proxy invoking Obama’s erstwhile (and self-confessed) drug use. Then there was her patently Republican-esque scare tactic of leaking pictures of Obama in traditional Somali garb to–to what? Imply that he is Muslim? To invoke fears that he will bring on an al-Qaeda lovefest? There’s also her supposedly playful–but entirely disingenuous–SNL send-up, asking if Obama needed another pillow during their last debate. Still, all the aforementioned are very small fry compared the possibility of her camp’s role in the Canadian NAFTA leak. 

It is understandable how Senator Obama, who is very much the political descendent of JFK (good-looking, charismatic, a great writer, an amazing speaker, and a formidable intellect), frustrates the Clintons. But let’s not pretend race buoys a man who assuredly receives death threats from the Klan and who requires a security detail that rivals the current president’s.

Apparently Borders feels that the books they built their business around are not enough to keep people in the bookstore anymore and have started adding 37-inch TVs to their store fronts to display news and weather for people to watch while they are shopping. I think I may have to stick with Barnes and Noble - they may not offer the frequent coupons in my email inbox, but at least they give me silence to shop in. Read the whole story here.

Apparently I’ve angered some folks with my post about Stephen King and the horrendous “literary” outing he had with Cell. I would say that wasn’t my intention, but reading back through the post I originally wrote back in January, I think it probably was my intention. Regardless, I’m glad people are stepping up and offering their comments. It’s always nice to harbor a bit of conversation around here. The book really is awful, but that’s not the point. The point is that, at least his readers can drum up a decent reason to support his work, rather than the occasional expletive (as in the case of some half wits who leave comments).

Today’s looking like a gloomy day outside too, so I’m going to leave the spit and vitriol at the door for now and post this awesome review of M.I.A’s new album, Kala

.

More relevant posts to come later…

I’ve been looking around here the last few days and it seems as though I’m just randomly posting things for the sake of posting things of late. I’m not intent on reorganizing the entire website or anything. That would be a bit unorthodox and probably a bit too much work when all is said and done, but I am thinking of trying to find a line at which I stop just regurgitating other posts from other sites and actually write fresh content. That’s all I suppose. Check back later for more similarly deep and profound posts from myself.

As a Seattle born native and lifelong fan of Ken Griffey Jr, it always makes me smile to see the man having a little fun with the game (and the fans in this case). It seems of late that he’s been more or less a rock of futile boredom, going through the motions in Cincinati, which after his goofy, kid-like years in Seattle is just sad.

Apparently, Griffey was dealing with a particularly rousing Dodgers fan, whose heckling (all in good fun of course) was lighting up the stands, so much in fact that Griffey took notice and stopped by in the sixth to have a word with him.

Well, by the 2nd inning he was looking right at me giving me the looks. When he walks in from the 6th inning he decided he had enough and came over to talk some smack. He called me some fat references which was hilarious and then he told me I couldnt touch the threads on his jock…

I then told him to show me what he’s got, that he talks a big game and then I told him to limp back to the dugout where he belongs and I even said some things about his Mom. I told him I might be fat, but I could still play center field:) It was an incredible exchange to say the least. After the 6th inning he walks out and stops to talk to me holding a brown paper bag in his hand. He motions to throw it to me and I told him no, I know that trick. He laughs and says catch it, so I put up my hands and he tosses it over. He wouldn’t leave until I opened it and when I finally did, the whole place erupted with laughter. Griffey throws me his jock…

I can’t wait until June, when Griffey comes back to Seattle. Here’s hoping he gets the greeting he well deserves.

Every year around the same time we sit back and start to watch as the film industry ramps up its biggest summer offerings, throwing over budget sequel after over budget sequel at us in an attempt to snag all our hard earned dollars (in a single movie if possible). It’s a sequence that begs the question – what exactly are we doing?

I don’t want to start complaining and tearing apart the film industry yet one more time. I’ve done that a lot of late. No, what I’m thinking is that the industry born of its own self-aware, glitzy appeal to the masses has forgotten that film is technically, on a basic level, considered art. And art is not something entirely devoted to making money. Unfortunately, something else has occurred in recent years that makes it nearly impossible for art to garner the respect and admiration it once did – the blight that is technology.

When society evolved in the 19^th century, so too did everything humanity knew as art and culture. Instead of the commonly held belief that we were not good enough to enjoy the fruits of artistic endeavors as common folk, mass production and printing created pop culture and everyone was allowed to sit and enjoy the next great Dickens or Austen novel.

Which of these is not like the others? (hint: it’s a lot better)

Not that I want to compare Dickens or Austen to Fantastic Four 2. The point is that when people everywhere were given a chance to access the art of the day, the division between high and low are grew much larger than it had ever been. Instead of the shallow gap between classical music and popular literature, there was the stark contrast of painted galleries and radio programs, or James Joyce and Raymond Chandler.

When technology makes it easy to reach out and share your work with everyone, the prospect of making vast sums of money arises as well. The problem with money though is that most people are willing to sell every whim of their artistic integrity for the right payday.

By my calculations, Hollywood finished selling off its artistic integrity in the 1950s and has been flirting with the prospect of bringing it back on a part time basis ever since. When the blockbuster season was minted in the 1970s, at least half of the year was thrown over to the cheesy Hollywood fluff that we’re all witness too today. The biggest problem with that fluff is that it makes for great sequels and as 2007 is demonstrating, there are no longer any new ideas to be had.

Instead, Hollywood bundles up all of the films that manage to slip through the radar and actually be quite good and pushes them into the same two or three months of limited release at the end of the year so as to look good come Oscar season. For anyone living outside of New York and Los Angeles it’s nearly impossible to find these films and when they do finally spread and appear in other theaters, the deadest months of the year are upon us and no one goes to see them.

I’m not breaking new ground by stating that Hollywood is over-commercialized. It’s not a secret, and as long as we keep frequenting the sequels and remakes and doling out $151 million in three days to see the third (and most mediocre) Spiderman film, they’ll keep making them. It’s just how big business works.

No, my point is not that Hollywood sucks, but that Hollywood seemingly cannot make the changes it wants to anymore. People are content with the formula that they’ve been cast into and despite some actually interesting moves in tinsel town of late, the films that people see are still quite awful. As with any war, there has been something of an influx of intelligent political films in recent years, all of them Oscar worthy, and all them largely ignored at the box office. There have been numerous biopics and stories of woes and horrible historical happenings in Africa, which despite their amazing breadth and story telling strength are being ignored. There has been an influx of incredibly well made film from the Spanish speaking world and Europe, all of it largely ignored.

Instead, movies like Wildhogs is able to take the top spot at the box office (with a substantial draw) for two weeks in a row. It’s not entirely the fault of corporate executives when people just plain have bad taste. And so, the summer movie season is essentially the equivalent of the Louvre for those people, getting occasionally well written, returns from familiar characters and interesting new storylines.

Recycling characters that were massively successful in the past (regardless of how well written they were) is incredibly successful because there is immediate recognition and appeal. Now, if only Hollywood would throw at least one or two new ideas our way. Even during the years when Batman Forever and Wild Wild West were being touted as major summertime releases, there were occasionally new, fresh ideas like Jurassic Park or Independence Day. Those films are not necessarily any more intelligent, but they’re surely more unique and less tired. We’ve seen what happens when a franchise is milked too far, as with Spiderman or the early Batmans. A little bit of careful writing wouldn’t hurt either.

By choosing the first of the month I made it fairly easy to remember how long it’s been since I first started writing full time. As the last day of the month, I know it’s been exactly four months and because of that, I feel like I should throw down a bit of a recap of the last four months and what’s happened.

In the last month or so especially it’s turned out that things are incredibly easy to accomplish if I just adhere to a strict regiment of locking myself away for at least a few hours every day.

I quit the old hourly job a few weeks ago and though I was stressed out at first, I realized later that I can make the same or more money with less work and do it all on my own terms. The problem of course is the paper work. What nobody tells you is that if you start working on your own, you have to eventually start figuring out things like taxes and budgets and the balance of multiple bank accounts.

That of course is largely outweighed by the massive amount of good things experienced. Included in this lovely pile is a plethora of good fun such as free time whenever I want it, adjustable schedules and usually around 4 hours of solid work a day for four or five days a week tops. Top it all off with projects that occasionally become incredibly interesting and you’ve got one nice and relaxing lifestyle and to sit with.

So, the four month mark then; what does it mean? It’s spring time and the weather’s nice. I’m out and about getting some exercise as well as hanging out in the interim with some really great people (and one really amazing person) and practicing the whole transition. I have written over 1000 articles since January already and though I enjoy writing about everything under the sun, it looks like I’m finally getting to the point where I can write less and less and get paid a little more.

Anyways, here’s looking to month five, which will be chockful of baseball games, tennis practice, and all sorts of other random fun in the sun.

It’s a good Sunday evening to sit in front of the computer and say howdy or doody to the couch. I suppose I’ve been falling ever deeper into the crevices here, staring at the TV and watching the dog try and eat everything in sight. For that very reason, I suppose I’m feeling the burn for having spent the last two days exercising (if incredibly small in scope) by throwing a baseball around and hitting some fly balls. The running is new too.

It’s definitely spring time though and my body is going to be getting a nice little wake up call in the next few days as I start trying to squeeze out the most from six months of sitting on my arse, watching that lovely television.  Long story short - I’m sore. All sorts of muscles are in oh so many stages of disarray. Which brings me to some story action tonight. This an exercise from John Gardner’s The Art of Fiction. Asks for a three page monologue that tells a story; I got carried away.

Jeremy licked his lips and smoothed his overabundant eyebrows carefully. “You know it was a mistake. I’ve been protecting you for years. Why would I give it up now?”

He wondered that very same thing himself. The day had begun like any other Tuesday – stark, rainy, and much too early. His morning rituals were completed in much the same manner, all speed and efficiency, no pomp. Wake up, in the shower, sit up, push up, food down, shoes on, out the door. None of the pristine walls in his studio apartment, nor the carefully brushed furniture, were a hair out of place when he left. Everything was normal.

“You don’t understand. It was a complete mistake. I’ve never intentionally hurt you before. Just hear me out.” And yet here he was, surrounded physically and emotionally by a single small woman. Ann was no ordinary woman, of course. Their relationship took on so many dimensions he wished he would have stayed with physics in college, if only for the nerdy metaphors. In the ten by ten locked office space in the back of the Ikea where she worked though, there was only one dimension he need concern himself with. The flat, unhinged snarl looking him directly in the face.

“Okay. Here’s how it went. You know I’m very careful about these things. I woke up and everything was normal. I showered and ate, the usual deal. Then I left. It was a little early. I don’t know how I managed it. I’m never early, but today I was. When I got outside to the bus stop, I had fifteen minutes to wait. I didn’t even realize until I was there for three minutes and was still waiting.”

At this point, Jeremy was quivering. His suit, freshly pressed every morning, began to wrinkle and expand as he fidgeted about. Sweat from his brow greased both palms as he wiped repeatedly, subsequently finding its way to his pants. His hair, normally slick and hard, a corporate helmet, unruffled by the wind born exhaust, humid alleyways, or inconsiderate fellow sidewalkers rejected any attempt to remain under control. Already the brilliantine he used oozed down his neck and onto his ears. Only the constant swiping at his forehead kept it from his eyes.

He sighed shakily and continued, “So I decided to use the extra time and get my coffee earlier than normal. I didn’t want to stand in the cold. Walking is good for me. The doctor told me if I walk three miles a day, I could lose twenty five pounds. So I walked to Starbucks. The walk was actually rather nice. I got to Starbucks and ordered the mocha I always get, as many shots, that is – three, as I always get. I’d never been to this one though. You would think, because it’s only ten minutes from my place, I would. Usually I go to the one across from the office before I head in. It’s quicker and easier, and the girls all know me….yes, yes of course. I’ll go on.”

 

The rigid backed Granas chair he sat in, probably assembled by some lazy college student on a break looking for a place to sit, creaked under his weight as he shifted about. The walls, all blue and yellow, covered with service plaques and permits blazed around him, pushing in and squeezing more and more sweat from the various pores of his body. Ann’s lithe frame, perfectly shaped and constantly attended to, now dressed in the tropical wool suit of a floor manager, remained standing still, a hungry lioness ready to pounce.

 

“So, the girl at this Starbucks, where I’ve never been. She messed up my coffee. I can’t change my order like that. It just isn’t right. It messes up the whole day. So, I told her I’d wait for another. That’s when I missed the bus. She was just giving it to me when the bus pulled away and I wasn’t by any means going to run after it. I will tell you, though. I was quite upset. I have never been late for work, and I was not going to start today. Of course I called a cab. I did not however foresee the pileup on the freeway. Yes, you saw it. We were stuck in it for at least an hour. The driver was incredibly nice though. He even stopped the meter. Saved me some money.” What Jeremy neglected to share was that he had railed at the poor man for at least half of their time in the car to find a way around, and that the only reason the man had stopped the meter was to attempt and calm Jeremy down. In fact, Jeremy had failed to pay any of the fare at all on his way out of the car opting quite angrily to walk the rest of the way, directly off the freeway.

“When he finally let me off downtown I was more than a little upset. You know how I cannot stand to be thrown from my schedule. It’s a shame, really. If none of this had happened, I wouldn’t have needed to make a complaint to the transit authority. I really had no choice. Regardless of my doctor’s orders, I wasn’t about to walk any further, so I stopped to wait for the bus. It came alright. Drove right on past me. It was then I realized I left my phone at home too.

“The transit authority didn’t help one bit. I couldn’t very well go to work. I was unprepared, and couldn’t count on just any bus to stop. I marched in there and asked them as best I could what I should do. I was absolutely calm with the clerk. Those accusations are ridiculous.” Anything but calm, Jeremy’s visit had left the poor clerk in all but a body cast. The bruises on his knuckles still showed after three days.

The tinge of blood in his eye, and the slight incline of his lip signaled Jeremy’s absolute conviction that he hadn’t wronged Ann. “And so the bloody ridiculous police locked me away for three days. I can tell you now. It was such sweet relief to see your gorgeous face with the bail money. And before you even say it, I had no choice. They were already on to me. Question after question. I had no choice. They knew about Jack. I can tell. It’s amazing, but they knew. It was in his eyes. Absolutely accidental. And on top of that, they already knew. So, if you think about it really, it wasn’t my fault at all.”

Smugly and much more calmly than anything he had done in her presence, Jeremy looked Ann in the eye and shrugged. She shot once, quickly and directly between the eyes, through the puddle of brilliantine and sweat.

The video gaming industry has been around for only a short while in the scheme of things. First arriving in the midst of the 1970s when the computer age was just around the corner and not really finding a grip until the mid 1980s when Nintendo broke through the wall that was consumer trust, at home video gaming was for a long time a novelty. It was a really expensive toy with a limited consumer base and limited technical applications.

It’s been a long time since those simple days of 8-bit turtle stomping and mushroom consumption. And in those days, the industry has exploded. Today, video gaming is a multi-billion dollar industry with as many games released every month as were released in certain years a couple of decades ago. But, what does it mean to the entertainment industry at large. Video gaming is no longer the fringe industry that it once was. It stopped being so when the major electronic and software giants like Sony and Microsoft jumped on board and started mass producing.

So, what does that leave us then? It leaves us a burgeoning mega-industry that is trying with every new generation and every new piece of software to outdo itself in all the things that big business deems most important – numbers. Every new game and every new console is bigger and more powerful than the last, with more incredibly graphics, more intense soundtracks, and more encompassing worlds.

Those are the ideas that Sony and Microsoft like to throw around, trying to wow their consumers with the biggest and best output from their products. But, after a generation later we see something completely different develop. Nintendo changed its corporate strategy and decided that innovation was infinitely more viable than power and strength. It’s like the Tortoise and the Hare, wherein the Hare is an overpowered, supercharged race car, and the Tortoise is a quaint family vehicle with plenty of space and comfort, both competing for best new vehicle in Family Circus. What Nintendo did right was read its audience.

Sony and Microsoft have only been looking at the industry in the sectors in which it is evolving, the older demographics, 20 and 30 something males.  However, the industry was not built on that demographic, and Nintendo did not become what it is today by catering to older, technology hungry men. What Nintendo did was innovate and offer new technology that wowed kids of all ages and adults alike. And their new machines, the Wii and DS both return to this mentality, abandoning the concept of trying to “look cooler” and “more powerful” than the other guys.

It’s about making a product that parents will see and think, “oh cool” and buy for their children. The Nintendo Wii has become something of a cultural phenomenon not because it’s the best console around, but because it’s the most inclusive console around. Kids want it because it’s the cool new toy. Parents want it because they know they have to get their kids a game console and it happens to get them up and exercising. Even the 20 and 30 something crowd likes it, because it’s made by Nintendo and it’s the next big thing.

That kind of thinking is winning the race in sales, and yet the industry is still a monstrous pit of money, a free for all for everyone who has the resources to sink into it. Sony and Microsoft will make do in the long run, but they will need to alter their strategies.

In Japan, the gaming industry has developed in a rather different direction. It’s always been about diversification and crossover success. The reason Sony succeeded so well was not because it was the better console or more powerful, but because it was the more established brand name and was able to snag big name titles and innovative software. Microsoft never stood a chance in that market, and Nintendo only faltered for a short while.

Today’s generation is clearly going to Nintendo and it’s because of their innovation. Dance and music titles have always been big in Japan, along with interactive games. Nintendo has more or less cornered the market on all things interactive with their new consoles.

And as major franchises start to jump the Sony exclusivity ship and join forces with one thought lost Nintendo and new man on campus Microsoft, it’s looking more or more like the other major draw in Japanese gaming is up for grabs, that of licensing and crossover success. While film, music, and television crossover has long been a hit or miss (and very often only miss) concept in America, Japanese gamers have embraced franchises solely reliant on their cross-entertainment brethren.

Major pop stars pen songs for video games, sometimes even appearing as characters in games. Anime and television series are turned into long running franchises, and the movie industry often picks up video game franchises for its own new ideas.

Regardless of the turn in Japan, a major indicator of the future of home gaming ever since they invented it 30 years ago, video gaming is changing. For a while it was a race to see who could make the biggest and best. Now, people are changing their minds and hoping to find the most fun and creative games around. It looks like the next few years might be really good for Nintendo.