Author: Dan Dickinson

The day's tweets

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  • Wow, did I *ever* pick the wrong time to go to the market. Got soaked in that downpour. Of course, it stopped 100 feet from our front door. #
  • Guess who got caught in the rain AGAIN. What was it that Einstein about doing things again and again and expecting different results? #

"If there have been two seemingly immutable trends for the American consumer, they're that he's eaten more every year and driven more every year."

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Writing this month in Esquire, stats-man extraordinaire Nate Silver writes about The End Of Car Culture:

In January, according to statistics compiled by the Federal Highway Administration, Americans drove a collective 222 billion miles. That’s a lot of time spent behind the wheel — enough to make roughly eight hundred round-trips to Mars. It translates to about 727 miles traveled for every man, woman, and child in the country. But that figure was down about 4 percent from January 2008, when Americans averaged 757 miles of car travel per person. And this was no aberration: January 2009 was the fifteenth consecutive month in which the average American drove less than he had a year earlier.

…

Could it be that there’s been some sort of paradigm shift in Americans’ attitudes toward their cars? Perhaps, given the exorbitant gas prices of last summer, Americans realized that they weren’t quite as dependent on their vehicles as they once thought they were.

For all the talk we hear about economic green shoots, I think this may be one. Or, at the very least, may lead to one. The hope, and typical result, of an economic downturn is the innovation and investment stemming from the realization than the previous way of doing things — an unswerving reliance on driving, in this case — is unsustainable, or at least uneconomical. Maybe that innovation will be in alternative energy; maybe that investment will extend the reach of mass transit.

The real question becomes whether this shift is only a temporary blip. Silver himself writes in the article that the falloff in miles driven is probably a trailing indicator of extremely high gas prices last year. Since prices fell so drastically almost immediately after, will attitudes revert to “normal” and suburban growth resume? Hard to say, but Silver does throw in a couple of interesting wrinkles at the end:

The exceptionally sluggish pace of new-vehicle sales, moreover, in the face of extremely attractive incentives being offered by the automakers might imply that Americans are considering making more-permanent adjustments to their lifestyles. And the denigration of the brand of the Big Three automakers in light of their financial difficulties — about one third of Americans have generally told pollsters they will buy only an American-made car — might reduce some of the patriotic associations with the activity of driving. Building a light-rail system might not persuade Bubba to get rid of his vehicle — but forcing him to buy foreign might.

That last sentence is a portent of marketing to come. Jingoistic patriotism is already a favourite tactic of car makers in the war against imports; how long before automakers cede that part of the market and swing their attention to another of Porter’s forces: substitutes? That is, if there is a recognizable shift from driving to public transit, then how long before the latter is cast as unAmerican?

The day's tweets

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  • RT @JayOnrait: Producer Tim points out that not only are Man-Ram and A-Rod both potentially juicers… They both have homoerotic nicknames. #
  • @ccrosbie Thanks for the follow. It’s LtDan though. 🙂 in reply to ccrosbie #
  • @rshevlin Don’t forget the unnecessarily confusing product names. in reply to rshevlin #
  • @mgarrity I wish I could visit Patterson’s Creek on a day like today. If you’re walking back downtown from Dow’s take a second to enjoy it! in reply to mgarrity #
  • Ever since someone (*cough* @cjsteven *cough) mentioned McDonald’s I’m craving a 1/4 pounder. Which is weird, b/c I *never* want that shit. #
  • @Tinfoiling Sigh. Here in Toronto the homeowners are throwing a spaz about coyotes, as if they’re a pack of Cujos out to eat kids. Sad. in reply to Tinfoiling #
  • Remind me never, ever to visit Australia. http://is.gd/xbZS #giantspiders #nothankyou #
  • It’s gotten to the point now where, when work settles down to a normal level, I feel like I’m missing something or doing something wrong. #
  • On phone w/ Rogers. First leg went surprisingly well. Turns out if you swear at the speech reco system you’re kicked to the good agents. #
  • @spotlightcity If you visit the Maritimes you can buy a McLobster sandwich. I hear they’re delicious. Ish. http://is.gd/xRj8 in reply to spotlightcity #
  • Volo. Not outside, but almost as good. And beer in hand, so all’s well. Happy Friday, everybody. #

"[A] Herculean task"

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Once again, Star columnist Christopher Hume has gone and gotten my hopes up about Toronto’s waterfront. Today’s column, Breathing life into Don River, is about redeveloping the foot of the river where it meets Lake Ontario, and contains the lovely little representation seen above. Sigh.

Hume ends the article by saying it’ll take twenty-five years to finish this particular section of waterfront and start moving people into the residential portions. Given the lack of progress I’ve seen since I moved here twelve years ago, I fear he’s being overly optimistic.

The day's tweets

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The Cove

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Tuesday night Nellie and I went to see a Hot Docs screening that I’d been both looking forward to and dreading. The Cove (hot docs | imdb) has been on my radar since it won the audience award at Sundance and Scott Weinberg at Cinematical wrote this review. I knew any documentary about saving dolphins would be right my up alley, but this line from his review gave me pause:

“I’ve seen hundreds of horror movies in my time, and I’ve never seen anything quite as disturbing as the final sequences of The Cove.”

Here’s the thing: I don’t deal well with scenes, even staged/acted ones, of animals being hurt or killed. The video for Mogwai‘s “Hunted By A Freak”, even though it was animated, haunted me for days because it featured a crazy man dropping pets off a rooftop. So I was worried that The Cove would give me nightmares or something. But it won’t. Make no mistake, there were some incredibly disturbing scenes of violence perpetrated against dolphins in this film, and as Weinberg said the final scenes were the worst. They weren’t quite as graphic as I thought they might be based on his description, but I think my mouth dropped open at the sheer scale of the carnage. Hundreds of dolphins slaughtered at a time, more than twenty thousand a year, all in this tiny cove…and all so pointlessly.

I won’t get into it all here, I’ll just tell you to go see the film. It might not sound appealing from my description, but that’s just because I’m still a little freaked out by it. It really was a great documentary — the only 5/5 I’ve given this week — with lots of suspense, stunning underwater shots, political intrigue, interesting character stories…even a mild car chase or two. Please, go see it when it comes to theatres this summer. Or rent it. Or if you can’t do either of those things, here’s one simple way to make a difference: stop going to fucking Seaworld.

Tweets for 2009-05-07

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  • @ZoeSasha Agreed. For extra yummy try it with the Raincoast crisps that have dried cranberries. Sounds blah, is awesome. in reply to ZoeSasha #
  • The Cove = harrowing. Also awesome. Go to http://thecovemovie.com #hotdocs09 @lisarandolph, it’s playing at the SFF later this month. #
  • @ZoeSasha On their own I’m not a big fan, but paired with that applewood…manoman. in reply to ZoeSasha #
  • I don’t normally pay much attention to football highlights, but that Christiano Ronaldo free kick…wow. #
  • @foreverginger The washroom at the Bloor Theatre in Toronto bears the words “Kevin Smith shat here.” Scrawled by the man himself perhaps? in reply to foreverginger #
  • @lisarandolph http://is.gd/xdXo Hopefully it’s not as complicated a ticket process as the Toronto film festival. in reply to lisarandolph #
  • Listening to the playlist of songs from Monday night’s #Mogwai setlist. #
  • Leaving before 6 *again*. Miraculous, truly. Who’s up for some mahjongg? #
  • I really want this burger to arrive, partly because I’m so hungry, partly cuz they’re playing Pussycat Dolls on the radio. #letmeouttahere #

Wake Up And Go Beserk

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It’s been nearly seven years since I last saw Mogwai live. Their gig that night in 2002 was one of the most ferocious I’d ever seen, or have seen since. I’d been warned about the volume, but in tiny Lee’s Palace there was nowhere to hide, and my friend Mike and I bore the brunt. I loved it, though, and was excited to see them again night after missing them the last couple of times around. In fact, seeing them last fall was supposed to be a celebration of finishing the MBA, of returning to seeing the occasional gig. They just made me wait a little longer is all. Silly inconsiderate Martin had pacemaker problems so they had to postpone the tour. That’s so like him.

And so, on Monday, Joe and I staked out a spot near the front of the Phoenix’s balcony just minutes before opener the Twilight Sad began their set. A funny thing happened: I noticed this guy pulling on the door out to the little catwalk along the Phoenix’s upper wall, as if he planned to get out there to take in the show. Padlocked; foiled. The guy turns to walk away and as I see his face I realize…that’s Stuart Braithwaite. By the time I processed that he’d spun off to find another vantage point. Weird.

Anyway, the Twilight Sad was good. Solid. I shall sample more of their stuff, which I suppose is the point of the opening slot, so well done lads. I laughed to Joe that, after their set, I looked down to the main floor and saw a girl covering her ears and (presumably) complaining to her boyfriend that it was too loud. I felt bad for her. It certainly wasn’t to get any quieter from there on. Fifteen minutes later Mogwai emerged to drive her from the building, pleading for her life. Or so I imagined.

A few songs in it was clear that this would be a very different Mogwai than I’d seen before. Thankfully, of course; who wants to see the same show again? Their music has gained more depth and nuance, and I was happy to see that it translated well to the stage, perhaps was even augmented by it. The additional textures of Barry Burns’ keyboards and (highly effects-ridden) vocals gave the first half of the night a mellower feel than I think most people expected. Stuart even broke out the soft words of “Cody” to much applause. They were covering a lot of ground too; by the end of the night they’d have played songs from eight different albums, by my count. But in the final half of the show, they tightened it up and started throwing serious punches.

They hit us with “You Don’t Know Jesus” and “Auto Rock”, gave us a breather with “Thank You Space Expert” and launched the perfect segue: “Hunted By A Freak”. I’ve always found that song ominous — maybe it’s because I can’t understand the vocals, or because I’ve seen the highly disturbing video — but until tonight I don’t think I ever fully grasped what a brilliant, beautiful song that is. Really. Still, that feeling of impending danger that comes with it was accurate: they bled straight from that song into a version of “Mogwai Fear Satan” that had everyone gleefully reeling, and then laid the crunch of “Glasgow Mega-Snake” on us to close out the set.

I had a hunch about what the encore might be — I knew they’d played “Like Herod” and “Batcat” in Montreal the night before, and they’d tended to alternate — so I was more than happy when they began playing “My Father My King”. It’s one of my 50 favourite songs of all time, and it destroyed the last time I saw them. I settled in. I prepared. I tried to keep my hopes from getting too high, but needn’t have bothered. This was better than last time, better than I’ve heard it played live before. It declined, dissolved and, as the band left the stage, descended into punishing feedback, just to remind us that nuance and maturity or no, they were still the boss of us.

After so many years of loving their music I think it’s safe to say that they’re my favourite band, even if they do try to kill me through my ears. Actually, I exaggerate: even though my ears were ringing when I got home that night, when I woke up six hours later my hearing was fine. I guess the much larger space of the Phoenix spared me from 2002’s result, when it took more than two days for my hearing to return to normal. I was almost disappointed.

And thus, I was awakened from my long gig slumber. Have I mentioned that I prefer a loud alarm clock?

.:.

Setlist

  1. I’m Jim Morrison, I’m Dead
  2. Killing All The Flies
  3. Travel Is Dangerous
  4. Scotland’s Shame
  5. Small Children In The Background
  6. Cody
  7. You Don’t Know Jesus
  8. Auto Rock
  9. Thank You Space Expert
  10. Hunted By A Freak
  11. Mogwai Fear Satan
  12. Glasgow Megasnake
  13. My Father My King (encore)

Tweets for 2009-05-05

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment
  • Home, where it’s quiet and I can tell exactly how much my ears are ringing. #
  • @gajarga Glad you’re enjoying. How’re the ears? in reply to gajarga #
  • @gajarga Me either. I’m…almost a little disappointed. in reply to gajarga #
  • Last night’s #Mogwai show drew songs from 8 different albums. #
  • @Weedrummerbhoy @Plasmatron Amazing show last night, guys. Thanks. Come back soon. #
  • Chain-smoking meetings today. #
  • Back at the Victory Cafe before the next documentary: The Cove. God help me. #hotdocs09 #
  • Problem: I think I drank just enough Neustadt 10W30 to make my sleepy. #
  • Wow. Line for The Cove is HUGE. #hottocs09 #

I look forward to Volume II

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Yesterday I finished reading Almost Home: My Life Story Volume I, the story of Damien Echols written in his own words. Echols is a member of the so-called West Memphis 3, sentenced for the killing of three small children, a crime which the evidence — or lack thereof — suggests they did not commit. Echols is the sole member on death row.

This is not a great book. Echols isn’t a great writer. It’s almost certainly self-serving. It doesn’t shed any insight on the case. It doesn’t even seem to have been thoroughly checked for spelling errors.

Here’s what it is, though: if you’re of the same opinion that I am — that the WM3 is wrongly imprisoned — then this book is a heartbreaking look at what happens when a teenager, a foolish awkward uneducated kid, is ripped out of his own life and thrown into limbo. What he writes, the events he talks about…it’s clear that his life stopped in 1993. Outside of the trial the only dramatic things that happened to him happened in high school. It’s all teenager drama. He’s roughly the same age as me, and all those things I got to do — graduate from high school with my friends, go to college, move away, get a job, get married, buy a home…to grow up, basically — he didn’t get to do.

It’s a credit to him that he discovered zen while on death row, but it’s just crushing to think of this shame — the undeserved ruination of a good part of three lives — compounded on the original tragedy: the murder of three little boys those 16 years ago. If I thought there was an afterlife, I would worry about how uneasily those boys must sleep, knowing their killer is still out there.