Two-And-A-Half Stars
Oh look, another Jeff Bridges movie. After having just played the lead in True Grit, The Dude takes on two roles in this overly-complex and unremarkable sci-fi film that can lead some people scratching their heads trying to figure out the plot. For all the build-up and hype for this movie, I am sad to say it was not as good as it could have been.
In Tron: Legacy, Jeff Bridges plays Kevin Flynn, the creator of the video game Tron, who disappears into his own creation after developing unheard-of technological advances. Twenty years later his son, Sam Flynn (played by Garrett Hedlund) enters the universe of the game (referred to as "The Grid") after receiving a message from his father. Upon entering The Grid, Sam realizes something is wrong when he runs into a likeness of his father, CLU (for Codified Likeness Utility), who has become the ruthless, authoritarian leader of The Grid.
Sam has to compete in a series of matches that mimic the video game his father created before he is rescued by Quorra (Olivia Wilde) and brought to his father, who explains the rather exhaustive history of The Grid and CLU. It is discovered that CLU wishes to leave The Grid and enter the real world, along with an army that he has created from programmed players within the game. CLU also was responsible for the genocide of a race of sentient programs that were naturally created by The Grid.
The movie starts out poorly (hitting on all the father's-gone-so-son-has-to-take-over-the-giant-company-dad-left-behind cliches along with terrible one-liners during the opening action sequences) but manages to improve over time. By the time the third act rolls around and the conflict begins heading towards resolution, the movie picks up quite well, but not enough to rescue the rest of the movie.
It felt as if almost half the dialogue in the film was exposition, explaining different parts of various back-stories, all spread over several different scenes. I have not seen the original Tron so I am not sure how much the writers were trying to explain everything from the first movie and help the audience understand the nature of the computer program the characters are stuck in.
Also, releasing the film in 3-D was unnecessary. I saw it in 3-D but in this case 3-D did little to improve the movie. For those who think that 3-D makes everything better, how much better does 3-D really make anything? The Matrix (thematically similar to Tron: Legacy) is quite good in plain old 2-D. The action sequences in Tron: Legacy, which are quite entertaining, would still be impressive and fun without the need to view them with special, large (and probably previously-used) glasses.
As rich and as deep as the universe of The Grid is, the movie still falls short of its potential. It touches on intriguing notions such as artificial intelligence, virtual reality and the nature of reality itself but does not go far enough in developing them. Instead, just as the movie is getting good, it turns into a typical action flick. The good guys have to get to the exit portal and escape before the bad guys do in order to save the world.
Ultimately, Tron: Legacy is a poor man's The Matrix. The plot can be confusing at times (my father was not sure what was going on all the time) and it tries too much to fit the contours of an action movie. I would have liked to see Quorra and Sam become love interests but who knows what might happen if a sequel is made.
Until next time, Orange Hat Guy
Friday, December 31, 2010
Friday, December 24, 2010
True Grit
Four Stars
The Coen Brothers have done it again. They have made another masterpiece, this time a straight western. This True Grit is not a remake of the classic John Wayne movie but rather an adaptation of the same 1968 novel. And the Coen Brothers manage to put their own unique touch on the story, helped by great acting, superb writing and cinematography.
In 1878, fourteen-year-old Mattie Ross (played brilliantly by Hailee Steinfeld) wished to avenge the death of her father, who died at the hands of a man named Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin). Mattie seeks help from U.S. Marshall Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) in tracking and capturing the fugitive Chaney. At the same time, Cogburn and Texas Ranger La Boeuf (Matt Damon) are on the trail of another outlaw named Ned Pepper (Barry Pepper), looking to split a reward on his capture as well as knowing that Chaney is among Pepper's men.
At first, Cogburn and La Boeuf are unsure what to make of young Mattie, but she proves herself to be a strong-minded and strong-willed person up to the challenge of tracking and hunting down her father's killer. Over the course of the movie, they encounter a number of ups and downs, including ambushes and kidnapping, that eventually culminate in a thrilling shoot-out.
One of the things that stands out in this movie is the acting. Everyone is at the top of their game, from Coen Brothers staples Jeff Bridges (The Big Lebowski) and Josh Brolin (No Country For Old Men) to newcomer Hailee Steinfeld. Steinfeld shows how she is wise beyond her years in her first major film role by giving a very convincing performance that manages not to get overshadowed by all the big names surrounding her. Matt Damon also does a fine job, as he and Jeff Bridges both had the difficult task of balancing moments of comedy with moments of extreme seriousness.
Cinematography was another stand-out feature. Rather than just go with wide shot after wide shot to exploit the beautiful locations used throughout the movie, the Coen Brothers manage to no overdo it with sweeping visuals. But Coen Brothers are not unfamiliar with westerns, as No Country For Old Men incorporated several elements of the genre. Ultimately, the Coens are able to create a world that feels very genuine without all the cliche of a typical western landscape.
The writing is not to be overlooked as well. The Coen Brothers are well-known for their eclectic dialogue in their movies, and in True Grit it is once again top notch. One fine example of this is early on in the movie is a scene where Mattie Ross negotiates with a businessman over being reimbursed for her father's losses, including his horses and pieces of California gold. The back and forth banter, bargaining and haggling perfectly demonstrates the skillful writing of a well-polished script.
For those worried about the level violence or sex in the movie, do not be worried. There is none of the latter and brief moments of the former. Yes, people get shot and stabbed but there is very little blood. And this is because the movie is not about violence. It is about revenge, and the connection made between Mattie Ross and Rooster Cogburn. The Coen Brothers know to not let over-the-top violence get in the way of this great story.
Until next time, Orange Hat Guy
The Coen Brothers have done it again. They have made another masterpiece, this time a straight western. This True Grit is not a remake of the classic John Wayne movie but rather an adaptation of the same 1968 novel. And the Coen Brothers manage to put their own unique touch on the story, helped by great acting, superb writing and cinematography.
In 1878, fourteen-year-old Mattie Ross (played brilliantly by Hailee Steinfeld) wished to avenge the death of her father, who died at the hands of a man named Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin). Mattie seeks help from U.S. Marshall Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) in tracking and capturing the fugitive Chaney. At the same time, Cogburn and Texas Ranger La Boeuf (Matt Damon) are on the trail of another outlaw named Ned Pepper (Barry Pepper), looking to split a reward on his capture as well as knowing that Chaney is among Pepper's men.
At first, Cogburn and La Boeuf are unsure what to make of young Mattie, but she proves herself to be a strong-minded and strong-willed person up to the challenge of tracking and hunting down her father's killer. Over the course of the movie, they encounter a number of ups and downs, including ambushes and kidnapping, that eventually culminate in a thrilling shoot-out.
One of the things that stands out in this movie is the acting. Everyone is at the top of their game, from Coen Brothers staples Jeff Bridges (The Big Lebowski) and Josh Brolin (No Country For Old Men) to newcomer Hailee Steinfeld. Steinfeld shows how she is wise beyond her years in her first major film role by giving a very convincing performance that manages not to get overshadowed by all the big names surrounding her. Matt Damon also does a fine job, as he and Jeff Bridges both had the difficult task of balancing moments of comedy with moments of extreme seriousness.
Cinematography was another stand-out feature. Rather than just go with wide shot after wide shot to exploit the beautiful locations used throughout the movie, the Coen Brothers manage to no overdo it with sweeping visuals. But Coen Brothers are not unfamiliar with westerns, as No Country For Old Men incorporated several elements of the genre. Ultimately, the Coens are able to create a world that feels very genuine without all the cliche of a typical western landscape.
The writing is not to be overlooked as well. The Coen Brothers are well-known for their eclectic dialogue in their movies, and in True Grit it is once again top notch. One fine example of this is early on in the movie is a scene where Mattie Ross negotiates with a businessman over being reimbursed for her father's losses, including his horses and pieces of California gold. The back and forth banter, bargaining and haggling perfectly demonstrates the skillful writing of a well-polished script.
For those worried about the level violence or sex in the movie, do not be worried. There is none of the latter and brief moments of the former. Yes, people get shot and stabbed but there is very little blood. And this is because the movie is not about violence. It is about revenge, and the connection made between Mattie Ross and Rooster Cogburn. The Coen Brothers know to not let over-the-top violence get in the way of this great story.
Until next time, Orange Hat Guy
Monday, December 20, 2010
Happy Holidays You Bastards
*Guitar solo from Stairway To Heaven*
Well it’s that time of year again, the time of year when you’re getting a bunch of Christmas cards from people you probably haven’t seen in years. Most of the cards probably have pictures of the people doing something they think is really impressive. Like rock climbing or standing in front of some famous monument. Or a picture from their trip to Europe. You ever notice that?
There’s probably a letter too, detailing everything they’ve done for the past year. It’s also probably written in third person. Like this one. Don’t you thing that’s a little pretentious? These people have done things they think are so impressive that they think telling it first person drags down the accomplishment. Well I got news for you, Jane Eyre was written in first person and it’s supposed to be a really good book. It actually sucks, but that’s not the point.
Anyway, they probably begin with some quote they think is profound at the top of the letter. HEY, JIMMY PAGE IS A GOD! DON’T YOU CRITICIZE ME! Then they begin by telling you that another year has gone by and their family has accomplished a lot. That usually takes a paragraph or two. People can be so predictable.
Then they begin to list individual “achievements.” As you read on, you begin to realize the traditional Christmas letter is nothing more than a giant way to show off. It’s usually parents bragging about their kids, right? That’s right, Christmas letters are nothing more than giant pissing contests between families. And every family is trying stand out the most.
“Timmy has started kindergarten!” “Johnny has started playing piano!” “Jane won an award for playing violin!” “Linda started college!” Great, just great. That’s exactly what I wanted to know people I probably haven’t met and never will. And have you noticed it’s always about school or musical instruments?
Following this, they usually end with some lame attempt at a conclusion, probably hoping to persuade you not to just throw away the letter you get next year without even opening it. Don’t expect to find one here. I won’t get suckered into it.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention some things. John has continued to kick ass at his job. What is his job? Well if you don’t remember what is from previous letters, you probably don’t care. What’s one impressive thing he’s done? Either mastering Facebook or facilitating the move from a townhouse to an apartment seamlessly, take your pick. (Oh yeah, I just snuck two accomplishments in there! Booyah!)
Maggie’s interests include bungee jumping, extreme underwater basket weaving, fighting the Libyan terrorists from Back to the Future and punching Great White Sharks on the nose. She’s also watched a bunch of movies that you’ll just skip over if they’re listed. What’s one impressive thing she’s done? Admit she likes the film Leap Year. Check out the trailer on Youtube. Seriously. You can guess the entire plot from a 30 second preview. It takes courage to admit you like those kinds of movies.
And Matt? Well he’s a sophomore in college at Indiana University. He plays a little bit of guitar and wait a minute! I see what’s going on here! This guy’s doing exactly what he complained about! What a hypocrite! But in all seriousness, ain’t he a great comedy writer?
Friday, December 17, 2010
A Winter Story
And so it was that our hero had finished his finals. He headed down the hall and down the stair towards the exit, pausing only to pull out his iPod and select some music before heading out into the cold, dark night that lay before him. As he took his first few steps out into that night, he noticed it was snowing; this brought a smile to our valiant protagonist's face.
On he walked, barely noticing the cold air around him. He had walked through it before, and was used to the way it felt on his face. He was wearing a jacket, something he did not normally do. He usually finds them to rather bulky and heavy, and often chose to wear a hoodie with a sweater underneath. But that was not to be on this particular occasion. Our brave hero chose to break with tradition for a noble and time-honored reason: pure laziness.
As he listened to the cacophony of noise that poured out of the earbuds and felt the wind on face, the snow lightly falling on his glorious orange hair, he recalled the walk he took a little over a week ago. It was the first major snow that our hero's locale had seen since the previous winter. And he decided to take advantage of it and go on a walk.
You see, our protagonist quite enjoys the winter months. It might be a Chicago thing, it may be a Midwest thing, or perhaps it is that our hero is simply insane. But no matter. The cold does not bother him, though he is aware of its presence, particularly in his fingers and ears. He was raised on the cold, knows how it works. He can tell the difference between a biting cold and a friendly, inviting one. On that particular night our young hero sensed the latter, and walked outside, unsure of what lay in store for him.
The first thing our protagonist notices upon entering the snowy landscape that lay before him was the peace and calm that seemed to enshroud everything. The only noise our dear friend registers is the snow as it piles softly on the ground. This is a sound our hero has often overlooked, and until that moment had not realized how close it resembled the sound of a light rain. Little things such as these can be easily overlooked if one is not careful.
After taking a few seconds to absorb the serenity of the moment, he sets off. Where is he headed? Even he does not know, preferring to be led wherever the winter takes him. He is careful not to walk too fast; he does not want to miss a single moment as he travels along his uncharted journey. He pauses often, looking up at the snow as it falls. It is especially beautiful when viewed against a lamppost or a street light.
What is so intriguing about snow at night? It is hard for our hero to describe. Magical might come close, but he would hate to limit the experience down to a single word. There is a tremendous sense of escape that this experience has for him. Outside there are no worries, no lingering problems. Those remained inside. Out in that snowy night our protagonist is free from all his troubles.
The snow crunches under his feet as he walks along a path, with his footsteps seemingly to be the first to grace that path. But who can be sure? Perhaps another soul wandered along, and perhaps the gently falling snow covered up their prints. Such is the mystical nature of the snow our hero walks on. Soon another soul will come along that same path and find no trace of our hero's prints. Will this person also believe that they are the first to navigate this path?
His steps are uneven, his arms are covered with snow and his fingers are quite cold. But his journey is far from over. He has encountered other signs of life such as a particular pine tree that sticks out in his memory. As he came upon the tree he could see a fine level of snow having settled on the dark green bristles that made up the branches. For some reason this gave our hero great joy. Why? He cannot say.
He also notices rabbit tracks in the freshly fallen snow, another sign of life on his otherwise solitary walk. The tracks appeared as three dots: two side-by-side about two inches apart with a third one centered about three inches to four inches behind the first two, forming a backwards triangle with its points. Our brave protagonist notices these track wherever he goes, observing how the tracks sometimes were made in a zig-zag motion, and another time observing that a rabbit chose to take a ramp rather than stairs.
At one point on his walk, our intrepid explorer comes across one of the makers of those tracks. Our hero is in a woody area, surrounded by trees that went into hibernation long ago. As he slowly travels along the trail, he notices movement to his left. It is a small brown rabbit, who comes to a stop and takes a good look at our friend. The rabbit remains perfectly still, measuring up the tall creature in front of it.
Suddenly, a staring contest is born, and a battle of wills begins. The rabbit looks at the tall creature with its small piercing eyes, still as a statue. Likewise, the tall creature stares back at the rabbit, waiting for it to flinch or show signs of fatigue. Sadly, our hero wind up defeated, and moved on. All is not lost, however, because there is still much for him to see.
Our daring hero moves on, wandering through the woods and past buildings, eventually becoming slightly lost. But no worries. He soon discovers the right path and all is well again. He continues on through the snow, having been walking for over an hour. Is he getting cold? Perhaps a little bit, but he can endure it for a while still. He likes to think he is pretty tough when it comes to combating the elements.
Next on the agenda for him is to begin to head back, but not before taking a slight detour. Call it the scenic route back to his humble abode. He comes across the art building, which houses a structure next to it that is quite unique. Standing at least fifty feet tall is a thin tower that contains dozens of lights, stretching vertically from the top to the bottom. These lights, capable of changing color, shine against the wall of the art building.
The lights constantly shift in color, from a solid strip of red to green to blue to a purple-violet and eventually a rainbow. On their own, the lights are a rather spectacular sight to take in at night. In the snow, the sight is even more breathtaking. The tower illuminates all the falling snow that crosses the paths of the lights it holds within, coloring each snowflake with whatever color happens to hit it.
Our hero stares at this beautiful scene for some time, trying to retain every last bit of wonder it holds. Scenes like this are why our hero has a hard time describing why he likes winter so much. How can our hero put into words an experience so unique it cannot be expressed through any known means? He finds that words are insufficient; they do not do his feelings justice. But he will try to anyway, later on.
After a few minutes our protagonist discovers he is not alone. Coming up to him from across the street is another wandering soul. Introductions are made, names are given and a handshake is shared. Our astute hero quickly comes to the realization that his new friend is rather intoxicated, something the drunk later admits himself. A discussion is held, dominated by the quasi-philosopher who, in his drunken, ineffable wisdom, is transfixed by all the countless forces that led the two of us to meet at this exact spot at this moment in time.
A group of women approach the light tower, determined to take pictures of the scene previously described. Our friend, the drunk philosopher, turns his attention to the fairer sex in an effort to the determine all the forces that led them to that exact spot at that moment in time. Our sly hero took this moment to make his exit and began heading back to the bed that was waiting for him.
The road back, though a short one, was rife with adventure. Snowballs were heaved at our defenseless hero in a surprise attack from some passersby. Do not worry, dear reader, for our brave hero managed to survive the ambush and dodge the onslaught of snowballs that came his way. Moving on, he walked the path he had worn out the last few years, the one back to his home. And as he was walking, he felt that his night was complete.
Until next time, Orange Hat Guy
On he walked, barely noticing the cold air around him. He had walked through it before, and was used to the way it felt on his face. He was wearing a jacket, something he did not normally do. He usually finds them to rather bulky and heavy, and often chose to wear a hoodie with a sweater underneath. But that was not to be on this particular occasion. Our brave hero chose to break with tradition for a noble and time-honored reason: pure laziness.
As he listened to the cacophony of noise that poured out of the earbuds and felt the wind on face, the snow lightly falling on his glorious orange hair, he recalled the walk he took a little over a week ago. It was the first major snow that our hero's locale had seen since the previous winter. And he decided to take advantage of it and go on a walk.
You see, our protagonist quite enjoys the winter months. It might be a Chicago thing, it may be a Midwest thing, or perhaps it is that our hero is simply insane. But no matter. The cold does not bother him, though he is aware of its presence, particularly in his fingers and ears. He was raised on the cold, knows how it works. He can tell the difference between a biting cold and a friendly, inviting one. On that particular night our young hero sensed the latter, and walked outside, unsure of what lay in store for him.
The first thing our protagonist notices upon entering the snowy landscape that lay before him was the peace and calm that seemed to enshroud everything. The only noise our dear friend registers is the snow as it piles softly on the ground. This is a sound our hero has often overlooked, and until that moment had not realized how close it resembled the sound of a light rain. Little things such as these can be easily overlooked if one is not careful.
After taking a few seconds to absorb the serenity of the moment, he sets off. Where is he headed? Even he does not know, preferring to be led wherever the winter takes him. He is careful not to walk too fast; he does not want to miss a single moment as he travels along his uncharted journey. He pauses often, looking up at the snow as it falls. It is especially beautiful when viewed against a lamppost or a street light.
What is so intriguing about snow at night? It is hard for our hero to describe. Magical might come close, but he would hate to limit the experience down to a single word. There is a tremendous sense of escape that this experience has for him. Outside there are no worries, no lingering problems. Those remained inside. Out in that snowy night our protagonist is free from all his troubles.
The snow crunches under his feet as he walks along a path, with his footsteps seemingly to be the first to grace that path. But who can be sure? Perhaps another soul wandered along, and perhaps the gently falling snow covered up their prints. Such is the mystical nature of the snow our hero walks on. Soon another soul will come along that same path and find no trace of our hero's prints. Will this person also believe that they are the first to navigate this path?
His steps are uneven, his arms are covered with snow and his fingers are quite cold. But his journey is far from over. He has encountered other signs of life such as a particular pine tree that sticks out in his memory. As he came upon the tree he could see a fine level of snow having settled on the dark green bristles that made up the branches. For some reason this gave our hero great joy. Why? He cannot say.
He also notices rabbit tracks in the freshly fallen snow, another sign of life on his otherwise solitary walk. The tracks appeared as three dots: two side-by-side about two inches apart with a third one centered about three inches to four inches behind the first two, forming a backwards triangle with its points. Our brave protagonist notices these track wherever he goes, observing how the tracks sometimes were made in a zig-zag motion, and another time observing that a rabbit chose to take a ramp rather than stairs.
At one point on his walk, our intrepid explorer comes across one of the makers of those tracks. Our hero is in a woody area, surrounded by trees that went into hibernation long ago. As he slowly travels along the trail, he notices movement to his left. It is a small brown rabbit, who comes to a stop and takes a good look at our friend. The rabbit remains perfectly still, measuring up the tall creature in front of it.
Suddenly, a staring contest is born, and a battle of wills begins. The rabbit looks at the tall creature with its small piercing eyes, still as a statue. Likewise, the tall creature stares back at the rabbit, waiting for it to flinch or show signs of fatigue. Sadly, our hero wind up defeated, and moved on. All is not lost, however, because there is still much for him to see.
Our daring hero moves on, wandering through the woods and past buildings, eventually becoming slightly lost. But no worries. He soon discovers the right path and all is well again. He continues on through the snow, having been walking for over an hour. Is he getting cold? Perhaps a little bit, but he can endure it for a while still. He likes to think he is pretty tough when it comes to combating the elements.
Next on the agenda for him is to begin to head back, but not before taking a slight detour. Call it the scenic route back to his humble abode. He comes across the art building, which houses a structure next to it that is quite unique. Standing at least fifty feet tall is a thin tower that contains dozens of lights, stretching vertically from the top to the bottom. These lights, capable of changing color, shine against the wall of the art building.
The lights constantly shift in color, from a solid strip of red to green to blue to a purple-violet and eventually a rainbow. On their own, the lights are a rather spectacular sight to take in at night. In the snow, the sight is even more breathtaking. The tower illuminates all the falling snow that crosses the paths of the lights it holds within, coloring each snowflake with whatever color happens to hit it.
Our hero stares at this beautiful scene for some time, trying to retain every last bit of wonder it holds. Scenes like this are why our hero has a hard time describing why he likes winter so much. How can our hero put into words an experience so unique it cannot be expressed through any known means? He finds that words are insufficient; they do not do his feelings justice. But he will try to anyway, later on.
After a few minutes our protagonist discovers he is not alone. Coming up to him from across the street is another wandering soul. Introductions are made, names are given and a handshake is shared. Our astute hero quickly comes to the realization that his new friend is rather intoxicated, something the drunk later admits himself. A discussion is held, dominated by the quasi-philosopher who, in his drunken, ineffable wisdom, is transfixed by all the countless forces that led the two of us to meet at this exact spot at this moment in time.
A group of women approach the light tower, determined to take pictures of the scene previously described. Our friend, the drunk philosopher, turns his attention to the fairer sex in an effort to the determine all the forces that led them to that exact spot at that moment in time. Our sly hero took this moment to make his exit and began heading back to the bed that was waiting for him.
The road back, though a short one, was rife with adventure. Snowballs were heaved at our defenseless hero in a surprise attack from some passersby. Do not worry, dear reader, for our brave hero managed to survive the ambush and dodge the onslaught of snowballs that came his way. Moving on, he walked the path he had worn out the last few years, the one back to his home. And as he was walking, he felt that his night was complete.
Until next time, Orange Hat Guy
Friday, December 10, 2010
Just A Normal Program At Read
Previously, I posted a link to a slide show project I made for the journalism class I took this semester. Well, I had another project assigned to me after the slide show, and this time it was a video project. You can watch my video "Just A Normal Program At Read" here:
http://journalism.indiana.edu/studentwork/kelly_j210_fall2010/?p=3496
Enjoy.
Until next time, Orange Hat Guy
http://journalism.indiana.edu/studentwork/kelly_j210_fall2010/?p=3496
Enjoy.
Until next time, Orange Hat Guy
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Obama And Tax Cuts
"We are not a collection of red states and blue states. We are the United States of America."
Some people need to be reminded of that quote, given what has happened in the last few days. Recently, President Barack Obama reached a compromise with Republicans to temporarily extend the Bush tax cuts in exchange for an extension of unemployment benefits for millions of jobless Americans. There has been a lot of discussion and debate over this move and there has been a particular uproar amongst liberals. They feel Obama is caving to Republicans and that this is yet another example of him failing to stand strong on liberal issues.
I can understand their disliking the decision to extend the Bush tax cuts. I am of the belief that trickle-down economics does not work well and I also think that the rich can afford to pay slightly higher taxes. And, from what I understand (my knowledge of economics is rather limited), the Bush tax cuts are not a great help to the national economy because they add to the deficit without paying for themselves. I can understand the discontent towards extending them, even temporarily.
But I do not understand the uproar with which liberals have reacted to the move. If the move has angered or infuriated you, take a look at that quote at the top of this post. Remember when he said that? Remember the swell of pride you felt as he repeated them during his acceptance speech on election night two years ago? You probably did not feel the same swell of pride when you read about that deal Obama made. Why?
President Obama did exactly what that quote personifies, governing not to one side, but to the middle, and yet many liberals cannot help but overreact. I support the move even though I disagree with the decision to extend the Bush tax cuts because Obama is trying to appease both sides, as he should. Is it perfect? Of course not but nowadays it is very hard find any major policy that both Democrats and Republicans can agree on. That is why I applaud the move, because Obama is making that quote at the top come to life.
I have written before about my problems with the "professional left" that Press Secretary Robert Gibbs once brought up, and I feel that this is another case of the professional left doing more harm that good. To borrow the old saying, you cannot have your cake and eat it too. By overlooking the bipartisan nature of the agreement President Obama struck up, the professional left needs to learn that Obama is not someone who bows to their every wish.
The professional left also needs to learn that compromising with Republicans does not make President Obama a weak authority. Go ahead and try to name any piece of legislation that has been had major bipartisan support. Kind of hard to do, isn't it? Obama has had to fight an obstructionist Republican Party since taking office, and this agreement shows two things: first, a willingness to reach across the isle, and second, making sacrifices to make sure things get done.
Senate Republicans promised to combat any and all legislation that came their way until something was done about the Bush tax cuts. President Obama moved forward to ensure that important things like extending unemployment benefits get done. Now tell me, how is that so wrong? I understand that this presidency has not been quite what liberals envisioned after election night 2008, but it has been better than what they have made it out to be. I hope liberals start to realize that, and remember President Obama is not working for them alone, but for everyone, even the tens of millions that voted against him in the election.
Until next time, Orange Hat Guy
Some people need to be reminded of that quote, given what has happened in the last few days. Recently, President Barack Obama reached a compromise with Republicans to temporarily extend the Bush tax cuts in exchange for an extension of unemployment benefits for millions of jobless Americans. There has been a lot of discussion and debate over this move and there has been a particular uproar amongst liberals. They feel Obama is caving to Republicans and that this is yet another example of him failing to stand strong on liberal issues.
I can understand their disliking the decision to extend the Bush tax cuts. I am of the belief that trickle-down economics does not work well and I also think that the rich can afford to pay slightly higher taxes. And, from what I understand (my knowledge of economics is rather limited), the Bush tax cuts are not a great help to the national economy because they add to the deficit without paying for themselves. I can understand the discontent towards extending them, even temporarily.
But I do not understand the uproar with which liberals have reacted to the move. If the move has angered or infuriated you, take a look at that quote at the top of this post. Remember when he said that? Remember the swell of pride you felt as he repeated them during his acceptance speech on election night two years ago? You probably did not feel the same swell of pride when you read about that deal Obama made. Why?
President Obama did exactly what that quote personifies, governing not to one side, but to the middle, and yet many liberals cannot help but overreact. I support the move even though I disagree with the decision to extend the Bush tax cuts because Obama is trying to appease both sides, as he should. Is it perfect? Of course not but nowadays it is very hard find any major policy that both Democrats and Republicans can agree on. That is why I applaud the move, because Obama is making that quote at the top come to life.
I have written before about my problems with the "professional left" that Press Secretary Robert Gibbs once brought up, and I feel that this is another case of the professional left doing more harm that good. To borrow the old saying, you cannot have your cake and eat it too. By overlooking the bipartisan nature of the agreement President Obama struck up, the professional left needs to learn that Obama is not someone who bows to their every wish.
The professional left also needs to learn that compromising with Republicans does not make President Obama a weak authority. Go ahead and try to name any piece of legislation that has been had major bipartisan support. Kind of hard to do, isn't it? Obama has had to fight an obstructionist Republican Party since taking office, and this agreement shows two things: first, a willingness to reach across the isle, and second, making sacrifices to make sure things get done.
Senate Republicans promised to combat any and all legislation that came their way until something was done about the Bush tax cuts. President Obama moved forward to ensure that important things like extending unemployment benefits get done. Now tell me, how is that so wrong? I understand that this presidency has not been quite what liberals envisioned after election night 2008, but it has been better than what they have made it out to be. I hope liberals start to realize that, and remember President Obama is not working for them alone, but for everyone, even the tens of millions that voted against him in the election.
Until next time, Orange Hat Guy
Friday, December 3, 2010
Remembering Ron Santo
It is hard to put into words what the loss of Ron Santo is like. For Cubs fans, it is like losing a family member. For baseball fans, it is like losing a legend. For the Hall of Fame, it is like losing a future member. I would imagine that his death comes as a shock to all Cubs fans, given that he always sounded so full of life and energy when he called games. His emphatic "yes!" when a Cub hits a home run or "alright!" when something actually does go right for a change go along with his famous sighs and groans of "oh no" when something goes wrong gave listeners the sense that he would keep on kicking for years to come.
As most fans were well aware, he suffered from type one diabetes and had a history of health problems. Back during the 1960s when there was no way to measure blood sugar levels on one's own, the only way he could battle the disease was with candy bars and judging how he felt. And he had to keep it hidden, afraid he would be forced to retire. As great as he performed on the field, his contributions off the field were arguably much more valuable. He helped raise millions of dollars for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. You can donate to JDRF here: https://www.jdrf.org/index.cfm?page_id=100903.
I never saw Ron Santo play; his playing career was before my time. I discovered him through listening to Cubs games on the radio as I grew up. He was always a harbinger of emotions, not afraid completely pour his heart out over the air. You could always tell how the Cubs were doing based solely on the sound of his voice: if he was in a bad mood you knew the Cubs were playing poorly and if he was in a good mood you knew all was well, even without knowing the score.
You could make out the love and adoration he had for this team simply from the sound of his voice. I always loved the way he carried his emotions on his sleeve, the same way I do as a Cubs fan. He screamed for joy when I did, he cried out in disgust when I did and he pulled for the Cubs as hard as I did. And now that he is gone, the two of us will no longer cheer in unison.
I do not feel like entering to the Hall of Fame debate here because that is not important right now. And while I believe wholeheartedly that he belongs in Cooperstown, this is a period of mourning and remembrance, not bickering. Let us all just spend this time remembering a great, great Cub.
As most fans were well aware, he suffered from type one diabetes and had a history of health problems. Back during the 1960s when there was no way to measure blood sugar levels on one's own, the only way he could battle the disease was with candy bars and judging how he felt. And he had to keep it hidden, afraid he would be forced to retire. As great as he performed on the field, his contributions off the field were arguably much more valuable. He helped raise millions of dollars for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. You can donate to JDRF here: https://www.jdrf.org/index.cfm?page_id=100903.
I never saw Ron Santo play; his playing career was before my time. I discovered him through listening to Cubs games on the radio as I grew up. He was always a harbinger of emotions, not afraid completely pour his heart out over the air. You could always tell how the Cubs were doing based solely on the sound of his voice: if he was in a bad mood you knew the Cubs were playing poorly and if he was in a good mood you knew all was well, even without knowing the score.
You could make out the love and adoration he had for this team simply from the sound of his voice. I always loved the way he carried his emotions on his sleeve, the same way I do as a Cubs fan. He screamed for joy when I did, he cried out in disgust when I did and he pulled for the Cubs as hard as I did. And now that he is gone, the two of us will no longer cheer in unison.
I do not feel like entering to the Hall of Fame debate here because that is not important right now. And while I believe wholeheartedly that he belongs in Cooperstown, this is a period of mourning and remembrance, not bickering. Let us all just spend this time remembering a great, great Cub.
Ronald Edward Santo
1940-2010
Rest In Peace
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