In Carax’s episode of Tokyo!, the titular city is menaced by “Mr. Merde” (brilliantly played by Denis Levant), a sewer-dwelling, evidently anti-capitalist oddball with a green suit, a milky white eye, a long red beard, and a hunchback swagger--and a few hand grenades. [No word on whether Carax's Mr. Merde is in any way inspired by M. Gondry's Mr. Merde -- ed.]

BAD TIMES
5 years ago
May 16, 2003 | Dan Kennedy called for “tougher standards” in journalism in the wake of the Jayson Blair scandal.
“Yet by purging Blair, it would be wrong to think that all is now well at the Times, or in journalism. Tougher standards are needed. We all deserve better. I was struck by a comment that Alex Jones, director of the Joan Shorenstein Center...at Harvard’s Kennedy School, made to USA Today. Jones noted that in the Times’ self-examination, the family of former POW Jessica Lynch and others said they were well aware that Blair had falsely claimed to interview them...But they didn’t complain to the Times because they didn’t expect any better of the media. ‘They didn’t say, ‘Holy cow,’ this is somebody who is clearly unscrupulous.’ Instead, their response was to shrug their shoulders and say, ‘Hey, what did you expect?’ ’ Jones was quoted as saying.” Read Full Article

GOOD RIDDANCE
10 years ago
May 15, 1998 | Matt Ashare presented the 1998 BMP award for Best National Act to Radiohead.
“For a band whose career in the US was launched in 1993 with the kind of perilously catchy...single that can easily kill a band's career by marking them as a one-hit wonder, England's Radiohead have truly come a long way. Sure, ‘Creep’ was great the first dozen times you heard it, but you can't blame Thom Yorke for not wanting to sing it anymore...Johnny Greenwood hated the song so much from the get-go that he tried to muck it up with those cacophonous false starts on his guitar...But Yorke, Greenwood, and the rest of the band refused to be defeated by success, returning in '95 with The Bends (Capitol), a disc...with absolutely no ‘Creep,’ a disc as complex as ‘Creep’ was simple...

“The Bends in all its convoluted glory was really just a twisted prelude to OK Computer (Capitol), which arrived last summer with nothing resembling a workable single and very little in the way of a coherent lyric. Majestic probably doesn't begin to describe the operatic scope of the album, but it's not a bad place to start...So now some of the same critics who wrote the band off after ‘Creep’ hit the charts are holding Radiohead up as modern-rock saviors, which they probably are.” Read Full Article

SELECTIVE LISTENING
30 years ago
May 16, 1978 | After having had bad experiences with living arrangements due to his musical pursuits, pianist Paul Raeburn seemed to have found the perfect situation.
“Not too long ago, I thought I had solved all my problems. I had an apartment to myself (no roommates to worry about). It was on the second floor (not too difficult to get the piano in and out). And the downstairs neighbors never complained. I could never quite understand why they never complained, but I was happy to let the matter rest.

“In fact, so tolerant were the neighbors that they allowed several people to enter the apartment one weekend when I was away and help themselves. When I returned, I found that the burglars had chopped a large hole in the door, upended the dresser, pried into a locked metal file cabinet, strewn clothes and books everywhere, and the neighbors, bless their hearts, had never said a word. Stereo, television, tape recorder, typewriter, piano amplifier...had been removed. Miraculously, the piano stood in the center of the living room. (I don’t blame the thieves for not taking it—I know how difficult it is to get it down the stairs.)” Read Full Article

THE HAVES AND THE HAVE-SHOTS
35 years ago
May 15, 1973 | George Kimball pointed out the differences between those folks sitting in the grandstand and the clubhouse and those in the infield at the Kentucky Derby.

“If you are a Governor or a Mayor or a Newspaper Editor or a Kentucky Colonel or if you just happen to have a lot of money or happen to be on intimate terms with somebody who has a lot of money or even somebody whose family once had a lot of money then you will wind up in the grandstand, the clubhouse, or in one of those boxes near the finish line which run about $50,000 for Churchill Downs’ 50 yearly racing days but which are rarely used save on Derby Day...

“If, on the other hand, you (a) have developed a tolerance for claustrophobia, (b) loved Woodstock, (c) have an aberrant penchant for attending spectacles you are unable to see, (d) drink a lot, and (e) don’t have the money or the connections for a seat, you will end up in the infield.”

John Edwards endorsed Obama. Barry Bonds got indicted on 15 counts of perjury and obstruction of justice. And there were a bunch of celebs at the Celtics' playoff game the other night. Care? Or who cares?!? The Sandbox guys pose the question to Phoenix editor Lance Gould, Sarah Faith Alterman, and Henry Santoro. Listen to the mp3 here.

MP3: Cares or Who Cares? John Edwards, Barry Bonds, and celebs at the Celtics' game

Images via http://flickr.com/photos/thomasbrand/

They invited the print-edition people but not us webkinz to the grand-opening of the most hugenormous Apple store in America; a couple of the lucky ones came back raving that it's prettier than the new ICA. Sacrilege! In any case, we're reduced to Flickring and YouTubing our way around this mammoth, green-friendly fortress of Appletude until we can get our asses down there this weekend. Which is probably just as well, given what we've seen in terms of lines-around-the-block videos. Looks ridonculous, and apparently it recycles rainwater.

FLICKR: Most recent photos from the Boston Apple Store
YOUTUBE: Latest video from the Boston Apple Store
MAKING OF: The Boston Apple Store

TMZ reports that Rob Lowe -- yes, that Rob Lowe -- was spotted in town farting ("loudly"!) to illustrate what he thinks of the Boston Celtics. Good thing this didn't get out the other night. We shudder to think what would happen if Lowe were to make a return visit to the Garden on Sunday (if necessary, natch), and the Celtics faithful were to reply all at once. TMZ failed to report what Lowe's fart actually smells like: a glaring omission, if we do say so ourselves.

Although Lowe farts in Ray Allen's general direction, he apparently has more fragrant thoughts about our fair city's dance-party contingent: Lowe and Superbad's Jonah Hill -- both of whom are in the area to shoot the new Ricky Gervais movie up in Lowell -- dropped by Zuzu before repairing to the Middlesex Lounge on Tuesday night for everyone's favorite best-DJs-in-town confab, Hearthrob. Our spy tells us Lowe was ushered in through the back door, but not before the down-the-block line got a good gander at him. Alas, our spy had to wait another half-hour to make it in, after which he was rendered faceless by Baltimoroder's relentless set, and thereafter forgot to look for the stars. So like everyone else, we're left waiting on the Nicky Digital photos for further elaboration.

Our farthest-flung correspondent, Julia Throop, who's spent the past year living in China teaching English, was nowhere near Sichuan Province when the magnitude 7.8 earthquake hit on May 12, but the shock was enough to rock her world. She emails this report.

Everybody knows the feeling. You have one too many cups of coffee and suddenly your pulse musters the superhuman strength to throw your entire body into a rhythmic sway. On Monday, May 12, a couple dozen students and I sit in a ninth-floor classroom in Changzhou, China, idly turning Dostoevsky's pages, sipping some black coffee. Suddenly I felt that very shaky sensation.

Though I'm seated, I began to rock, involuntarily, back and forth. I blamed the caffeine, casting a rueful eye on my empty thermos, before I noticed that the sway wasn't exactly rhythmic, and it was gaining velocity. I glanced up, expecting to see my students quietly and diligently looking at their individual computer screens. Instead, they're just as confused as I am. One-by-one, they're taking off their headsets and looking at each other — and at the florescent lights swinging above their heads — with expressions of sheer panic.

Okay, it's not just me.

Suddenly someone yells "IT'S GOING TO COME DOWN!" which does nothing to ease the situation. I stand up to dismiss the class, and within five minutes we were in front of the building — policemen, teachers, students, and maintenance crew crowding the entrance.

I ran home to inform my fellow Americans of what I assumed to be the product of some shoddy Chinese construction and a strong wind. It wasn't until three hours later during a private tutoring session that one of my students asked me, casually, if I'd felt "the quick" that afternoon. "The quick?" I responded. "Yes. The essquick." It dawned on me. "That was an earthquake?"

A smile made its way from ear to ear, and upon seeing it, her face melted into an expression of pity and resentment. "Yes. Very dangerous." Her tone scolded me as much as her words. I tried to explain to her that I'd never felt an earthquake before. That back home in Boston, Massachusetts we stack houses and stores on top of each other for breathing space. An earthquake would be welcome. She didn't laugh. Looking at the headlines that evening, I found it hard to smile as well. "1000 Feared Dead from Earthquake in Sichuan Province," "Earthquake of 7.8 Hits Western China." Coupled with footage of people being pulled from the wreckage; it struck me that this was a natural disaster of dire proportion. An earthquake in Wenchuan county, on the other side of China and roughly 1000 miles from my classroom, had produced dramatic tremors in Changzhou.

Three days later, one of my students, as per his assignment, gave a short speech. He chose to talk about all the misfortune China has suffered during the past year — Sichuan earthquake included. His speech, however riddled with statistics and misleading facts, moved me to share my personal feelings with the class.

"In the past few years, there have been lots of natural disasters. First, there was the tsunami in Southeast Asia. Then, Hurricane Katrina. And only recently, there was the cyclone in Myanmar. But I think China has had an especially challenging year. I want you all to know that people around the world are thinking about China right now. I speak for my friends and fellow foreigners when I say that we're sorry." A small chorus of "thank you-s" followed, and I felt that, even in a small way, our two countries bonded.

— Julia Throop

Changzhou, China, May 15, 2008

 
Inside Jake von Slatt's Steampunk Workshop

If you haven't already read Sharon Steel's cover story on Steampunk in this week's Phoenix -- to say nothing of her Steampunk fashion piece in the current issue of SPIN -- then get thee clicking here-ish. She's got more anachronistic harpies, Victorian fashion references, PC mods, and totally insane industrial-age design throwbacks than you can shake a rivet gun and a pair of goggles at.

We also accompanied Sharon out to visit one of the Steampunk village's most recognizable faces: Massachusetts native Jake von Slatt. He was nice enough to invite us into his workshop and submit to an interview, which was conducted on board a school bus he's turned into a severely-retro RV. He's also working on modding a VW kit car so it can run on steam power. In the video above, we focused on a few of Jake's most famous projects: his Victorian all-in-one PC; a brass-etched custom Fender guitar; and a telegraph receiver that translates the internet into Morse code. Holy crap. 

• RELATED
  Steam dream: Steampunk bursts through its subculture roots to challenge our musical, fashion, design, and even political sensibilities. By Sharon Steel.
  

[Ed Note: ThePhoenix.com freelancer Rob Nelson is embedded at Cannes and will be filing reports all this week, provided he can stay out of jail, resist the urge to screw off into the south of France, and survive the Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull press conference. Stay tuned for daily updates from the front lines of cinematic ridiculosity.]

CANNES, FRANCE -- FYI: Casual sex ― or recreational sex, sport F-ing, whatever you wanna call it ― isn’t the only thing for which Cannes is renowned and adored. Seems they show motion pictures in this debauched seaside paradise as well!

As per a recent Cannes press release: “Select media” (who, moi?) “[are] invited to join Cannes beauties and legendary French producer Alain Siritzky for announcement of new 50 million dollar feature film and kick off of worldwide search for the new Emmanuelle... Media who [sic] does [sic] not respond will be admitted depending on space and time limitations.”

Monsieur! Lemme in!

The sense that nothing could be worse for impatiently queuing cineastes than not seeing (whereas for nymphos here it’s kinky) has been made meta ― sorta ― by Blindness, a Julianne Moore-headlined pseudo-thriller wherein the titular malady spreads quicker than crabs on the Croisette. Emmanuelle aside, if there’s anyone here who saw Blindness and thinks it’s watchable, I don’t know her--not carnally or any other way.

Directed by City of God auteur Fernando Meirelles, Blindness (which you can choose not to see come fall) seems to have been booked for l’ouverture because it’s a Big Metaphor Movie about all that’s hidden in plain sight these days ― good movies included. In the dull, dour film’s one funny moment, Gael García Bernal’s blind-leading blind thug croons a Stevie Wonder song (get it?) over an Abu Ghraibesque compound’s intercom. Soon thereafter, women, as in the novel on which the Blindness flick is based, are forced to become whores for food. (Metaphor? Don’t ask me...)
 
Because Blindness is an apocalypse-now movie for people who don’t like horror or sci-fi or war films (or whatever generic bastard Children of Men was, either), it’s therefore a melodrama ― which in turn means that the Moore character’s doctor hubby (Mark Ruffalo) spends the last few scenes whispering sweet nadas a la “I miss you ― I miss you so much.” Yeah yeah, Mumbleman, love is blind, but here you wish it could be dumb ― not stupid, but dumb.

Silencio.

― Rob Nelson

The new issue of Game Informer Magazine has the scoop, reported by a poster on the NeoGAF forum and picked up by Kotaku: Guitar Hero IV will feature drumming and vocals. What an original idea! 

To be totally fair, it does seem like a logical next step, and it's not like Harmonix invented the idea, either. Drum and guitar sims have existed in arcades in both Japan and the West for a long time now. Still, it's hard not to look at this with a cynical eye when you consider that this will come out roughly a year after the release of a successful game that already did a great job with the same thing. It will be released by a company that didn't do such a hot job with a similar product - Guitar Hero III was not just a bloated, garish sellout, it also felt rhythmically wrong somehow, like they weren't even bothering to keep time when they construct the note charts. To top it off, there's no way this will be compatible with Rock Band's drumkit, so you'll have to shell out another $200 for another set of plastic drums. Even if it manages to improve on some of the problems with the Rock Band kit - specifically, noise and sturdiness - it's still tough for the average gamer to justify.

The article also says there will be a create-a-song feature in GHIV, which sounds admittedly cool on its surface. But ultimately we'll have to see how actually functional it is; composing a full song with only five buttons might be more trouble than it's actually worth.

But Activision does show that they're still on the forefront of musical taste with their lineup of already-announced artists for the new game: Van Halen, the Eagles, Linkin Park, and Sublime! It's like a frat party in 2001!

WEST ROAST
5 years ago
May 9, 2003 | Jay Jaroch mused on the bi-coastal lifestyle and the differences between West and East Coasters.
“Sure, it’s been new and exciting, but when you grow up East Coast you learn that you should never take yourself too seriously — unless, of course, you have a graduate degree. Take yourself too seriously, and you can be sure your friends will soon be mocking you right back down to earth: ‘Bill, you’re a systems analyst and you live in Malden. Take the leather pants off.’

“People in Los Angeles don’t discourage that kind of behavior; rather, they climb over each other to emulate it. If Jay-Z appeared in a video with his face dotted with bits of tissue he’d used to clot his shaving mistakes, the next day you’d see Scotties-spotted hipsters on the streets of LA wondering if the mistakes go better with their pants’ legs up or down.” Read Full Article

END GAMES
10 years ago
May 8, 1998 | Dan Tobin pitched alternative endings for Seinfeld.
“ 4. The Force
An anonymous letter reveals that Jerry’s Floridian folks are not his true birth parents. Instead, Newman is Jerry’s real father. “Search your feelings -- you know it to be true,” says Newman, sounding much like James Earl Jones as he nibbles at a Snickers bar. “Oh, hello, father,” Jerry responds snidely. The letter goes on to explain that Elaine is Jerry’s twin sister, and soon the gang is reunited on Riker’s Island as the twins are incarcerated on multiple counts of incest.

5. Nothing happens
Proving that Seinfeld is indeed a show about nothing, the last 15 minutes are just dead air. It’s the least grating 15 minutes in the series’s history.”
 
READING REAGAN
20 years ago
May 6, 1988| Francis J. Connolly interviewed local astrologer extraordinaire Cosmic Muffin, a/k/a Darrell Martinie about the revelation that Ronald Reagan had been consulting astrologers.
“Q: Do you think the president is basing all his decisions on the astrological charts?
A: No, that’s obvious. Just look at this: the president is going off for a summit with Gorbachev, the summit in Moscow. And he’s leaving on Memorial Day weekend. Well, if the president were using an astrologer to time all his events—look, Memorial Day weekend begins one of the suckiest cycles I’ve seen, and it’s going to last all the way into July. Mercury is going retrograde, Venus is going retrograde, and there’s going to be a full moon...If an astrologer was dictating the president’s schedule, and the astrologer told the president to start the summit on Memorial Day weekend, that astrologer must have had a lobotomy.
 
Q: Can you make any predictions for Reagan’s future?
A: We’ve all had problems with Reagan’s chart. We just can’t get the exact time of his birth. Back when he was born, when they chiseled that information on the wall of a cave...they didn’t keep very good records. Certainly not in Tampico, Illinois.

Q: So you can’t say anything about Reagan’s future?
A: Oh, sure. Astrologically, his place in history is assured as a great president, like him or not. He’s always done things at just the right time, when conditions were favorable—as contrasted with Jimmy Carter, who did everything at the worst of all possible cycles. He seemed to have an instinct for doing things at the wrong time…You know, there’s never been a treaty or a contract made under a retrograde Mercury that ever worked. And I remember watching the news after the Camp David summit, with Begin and Carter and Sadat all shaking hands. And Mercury was retrograde! I remember saying this thing will never work, it’s a retrograde-Mercury contract. That was Jimmy Carter for you.”
 
DEEP ROTE
35 years ago
May 8, 1973 | Janet Maslin weighed in on the controversy surrounding 70’s cult porn film Deep Throat, on trial for obscenity charges.
“...Deep Throat...lasts for less than an hour and is astonishingly unerotic as these things go, what with its myriad mystiqueless closeups and a score which, in the words of one rock critic, ‘sounds like they walked into a supermarket with a tape recorder.’ It does have its funny moments, a few of them even intentional, as its storybook heroine with the dislocated clitoris searches for what she coyly refers to as ‘tingles’ (‘I want to hear bells, bombs, dams bursting, something!’) En route to a revoltingly happy ending, the story has her falling in love with a joke-happy doctor who physically befriends her (and who makes the kind of wisecracks that wouldn’t pass for funny on Saturday morning TV), and then nursing a bunch of ‘patients’...‘The results,’ as the official synopsis put it, ’will have you holding onto your crotch with laughter.’ Or whatever. Either way, you’re more likely to be holding onto your mouth, suppressing the occasional yawn.” Read Full Article