This article can also be accessed at http://www2.newpaltz.edu/little-rebellion/?p=2190
I thought I’d follow up my last piece with another article about the music industry. I have been a musician for about eight years and in 2006 I traveled to the midwest and back with a rock ‘n’ roll band.
As many musicians who have been on tour could say: “It was the best and worst time of my life.”
I played a show every night in a new city in front of new people that somehow knew the words to the songs I was playing. It was an experience like nothing I had ever felt before.
Although we were signed to Rust Records, (now nonexistent) an imprint of Universal Music Group, I managed to walk into my parents house after a month on the road flat broke. I spent $200 on food, cigarettes, gas, parking tickets and numerous other expenses.
Considering contemporary business models, how can a record company afford to pay for an entire record’s production and promotion, like Rust did for the band I was in, but not pay for expenses like gas and food while a band is touring to promote the record paid for by the same label? This makes no sense to me, especially considering the fact that a record label will make absolutely no money, or possibly lose money, if an album does not sell.
I know some independent record companies offer tour support to artists, but certainly not the ones who really need it. In my experience, I have only heard of mid-level bands (and bands on major labels) receiving tour support as well as making over $400 a night from venues. When I was traveling, we were grateful when we got $100 to split between five of us.
It is apparent that the odds are stacked against musicians once they enter the recording industry.
It seems like only artists who are established enough to make a couple hundred dollars a night from ticket sales are eligible for tour support. However, smaller non-established signed bands don’t get anything – then when it comes time to tour, they have no money to put in their gas tank to promote the record that the label dropped thousands on.
Artists cannot even use record sales as a financial crutch.
When a label pays for the production and advertising of an album, the musicians do not see a dime in royalties until the label recoups their losses. We must also consider that it’s 2009; when was the last time you bought an album?
In an Advertising Age article titled “Marketers, Musicians Could Make Beautiful Music Together,” P.T. Black discussed a current trend in the Chinese record industry that I can imagine the American industry adopting.
Given the amount of music that gets pirated, Chinese artists receive endorsements by and make money from advertising sponsorships.
“The downside is there is little support for non-mainstream music.” Black said. “Social-networking technologies are slowly compensating for that, reducing the cost of promotion and connecting bands’ fan bases. But there is another opportunity – advertisers stepping beyond pop and working with non-mainstream young artists. It’s not easy.”
In theory this is a way around the hypocrisies of the American mainstream record industry. However, as Black explained there is not much of a market for non-mainstream music in the eyes of major advertisers; and as I explained in my last piece: tailoring music to a predetermined format for the sole purpose of making money is unfair to consumers and musical integrity alike.
The do-it-yourself (DIY) age of recording is upon us. Artists are creating, recording and distributing music from their own homes. But how much money are they making? I can say with confidence that generally DIY artists cannot earn a living wage.
It is possible to be a professional musician and live comfortably – ask anyone who has “made it;” from Stan Getz to Green Day.
From personal experience I am positive that getting signed to an independent label and trying to climb the ladder to success is certainly not the best way to do it.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Who is Talented? Who Stinks? - Little Rebellion Column - 10/8/09
This article can also be accessed at http://www2.newpaltz.edu/little-rebellion/?p=1998
Audio production hardware and software have progressed significantly giving modern recordings a smooth crisp sound. But what kind of a toll has this new technology taken on the record industry as a whole?
It’s hard to say with complete certainty, but conclusions can be drawn from noticeable trends, and I’ll tell you one thing: neither musicianship nor corporate integrity have blossomed from this carrion flower.
Today anybody can become a producer. Simply buy a Macbook and an audio editing program called Garageband is already installed for you. Garageband is essentially a stripped-down version of Pro Tools, the program that is found in almost every professional recording studio in the world.
Once either of these programs are mastered, a user will be able to produce professional sounding music, voice-overs, homemade sound effects… anything you want. I see nothing wrong with this. In fact, I think it’s great.
The demon lies within plug-ins, which are add-ons that can be downloaded or purchased and applied within the software. My main gripe is with vocal tuning plug-ins.
The most commonly used vocal tuner is Auto-Tune by Antares Audio Technologies. With this plug-in, all the engineer has to do is enter the key or even the exact note desired and the software does all the work. Regardless of what note the vocalist sings, the predetermined note will be what comes out of the microphone.
This isn’t a tool utilized only by the untalented or the lazy, feeding vocals through Auto-Tune during recording sessions is almost an industry standard.
I can’t help but ask the question: Is this cheating?
Sure, it isn’t necessary for artists to use such tools. But if the technology is there, why not utilize it? Especially if it will make the final product sound better.
My problem is that regardless of technical ability or talent, anyone can now sound like a rock star. From a major record label’s perspective the script writes itself: find a pretty face, offer them a contract to sing marginally updated versions of last year’s chart toppers, let the computer handle the musicianship and release their album as the “next Abbey Road.”
Due to the coupling of technology like, but certainly not limited to, Auto-Tune and the trendsetting power of major record labels, today it seems as though almost every mainstream rock and roll band sounds undeniably alike and the timbres of every pop diva’s voice are almost identical.
This becomes confusing to the consumer. Who is talented? Who stinks? Who is honest? What is good music?
Believe me, I understand that art is subjective and what sounds like recycled Hollywood garbage to one person may be the anthem to another’s ear.
Be that as it may, I believe that music, as an art, should maintain a certain amount of dignity and integrity. I feel that the industry should have enough concern for the advancement of the art to not allow mediocre, digitally perfected music to flood the airwaves.
Over the past five years artists have taken the power back from record labels. Modern technology allows artsits to produce from their own studios, distribute via the internet and profit directly from the consumer.
My problem is that the technology is still being abused. In my eyes, there are plenty of good and honest musicians in today’s music scene. However, they take a lot more time to uncover than independent artists who simply choose to ride the coattails of T-Pain or Panic! At the Disco.
Once again, the evolution in technology is not the issue- I dislike the trend of profiting from dishonesty and others profiting from recycled applications of it. I don’t believe that using a vocal tuner is dishonest, instead I believe that using a vocal tuner if you don’t know how to sing on key is dishonest.
Lying to prospective fans is ultimately unfair to both parties.
Audio production hardware and software have progressed significantly giving modern recordings a smooth crisp sound. But what kind of a toll has this new technology taken on the record industry as a whole?
It’s hard to say with complete certainty, but conclusions can be drawn from noticeable trends, and I’ll tell you one thing: neither musicianship nor corporate integrity have blossomed from this carrion flower.
Today anybody can become a producer. Simply buy a Macbook and an audio editing program called Garageband is already installed for you. Garageband is essentially a stripped-down version of Pro Tools, the program that is found in almost every professional recording studio in the world.
Once either of these programs are mastered, a user will be able to produce professional sounding music, voice-overs, homemade sound effects… anything you want. I see nothing wrong with this. In fact, I think it’s great.
The demon lies within plug-ins, which are add-ons that can be downloaded or purchased and applied within the software. My main gripe is with vocal tuning plug-ins.
The most commonly used vocal tuner is Auto-Tune by Antares Audio Technologies. With this plug-in, all the engineer has to do is enter the key or even the exact note desired and the software does all the work. Regardless of what note the vocalist sings, the predetermined note will be what comes out of the microphone.
This isn’t a tool utilized only by the untalented or the lazy, feeding vocals through Auto-Tune during recording sessions is almost an industry standard.
I can’t help but ask the question: Is this cheating?
Sure, it isn’t necessary for artists to use such tools. But if the technology is there, why not utilize it? Especially if it will make the final product sound better.
My problem is that regardless of technical ability or talent, anyone can now sound like a rock star. From a major record label’s perspective the script writes itself: find a pretty face, offer them a contract to sing marginally updated versions of last year’s chart toppers, let the computer handle the musicianship and release their album as the “next Abbey Road.”
Due to the coupling of technology like, but certainly not limited to, Auto-Tune and the trendsetting power of major record labels, today it seems as though almost every mainstream rock and roll band sounds undeniably alike and the timbres of every pop diva’s voice are almost identical.
This becomes confusing to the consumer. Who is talented? Who stinks? Who is honest? What is good music?
Believe me, I understand that art is subjective and what sounds like recycled Hollywood garbage to one person may be the anthem to another’s ear.
Be that as it may, I believe that music, as an art, should maintain a certain amount of dignity and integrity. I feel that the industry should have enough concern for the advancement of the art to not allow mediocre, digitally perfected music to flood the airwaves.
Over the past five years artists have taken the power back from record labels. Modern technology allows artsits to produce from their own studios, distribute via the internet and profit directly from the consumer.
My problem is that the technology is still being abused. In my eyes, there are plenty of good and honest musicians in today’s music scene. However, they take a lot more time to uncover than independent artists who simply choose to ride the coattails of T-Pain or Panic! At the Disco.
Once again, the evolution in technology is not the issue- I dislike the trend of profiting from dishonesty and others profiting from recycled applications of it. I don’t believe that using a vocal tuner is dishonest, instead I believe that using a vocal tuner if you don’t know how to sing on key is dishonest.
Lying to prospective fans is ultimately unfair to both parties.
Journalists: Evolve and Create - Little Rebellion Column - 10/8/09
This article can also be accessed at http://www2.newpaltz.edu/little-rebellion/?p=1811
As many who read or watch the news have noticed, the medium is evolving rapidly.
Due to a combination of consumer demand and technological advances, news has become a 24 hour, instantaneous, interactive information portal that can be accessed from the palm of your hand.
This is not a bad thing. As I mentioned in a previous piece, there is no need to fight evolving media. A lot of journalists and journalism students have doubts about the future of the industry. However, I believe that fighting the consumers’ collective need for constant information is pointless and that journalism has a future, provided reporters adapt.
The consumer base in America seems to share the same mantra in terms of media consumption: “instant gratification.”
The idea of instant gratification as it relates to the American consumer society is summarized in an article by Ken Blackwell for The Washington Times entitled “Addicted to Debt; The Culture of Instant Fixes.”
“We have become a culture addicted to instant gratification and a fixation on the material. Increasingly, concepts such as duty, self-denial, hard work, delayed gratification, and patience have been swept away,” Blackwell said.
If this is indeed public opinion, then the journalism industry as a whole must contribute to the collective enlightenment of our communities.
I have been interning with the Poughkeepsie Journal for the past six weeks. I now see first-hand how the entire production process, including the effort that drives the process, is catered to keeping readers informed as quickly and efficiently as possible. I witness how stories are built from small briefs via newswire to 750 word features. I have also seen reporting on national events done almost exclusively from the field.
I now have a newfound infatuation with the Associated Press. I’ve always known what it is and its general ideology. However, I now see how newswires translate to stories: newswire reporters constantly check newswire co-ops like the AP and repost briefs on the now integral newspaper Web site.
From there, depending on how pertinent the story is, a beat reporter may follow up the brief by doing further reporting and writing a full article. The newly crafted piece is then posted on the Web site, printed in the following day’s paper or both.
According to the AP’s Web site, the co-op is now owned by 1,500 U.S. daily newspapers. It also houses “a 24-hour continuously updated online news service, a state-of-the-art television news service and one of the largest radio networks in the United States.”
Although the AP is a valuable tool for reporters, stories can go through a similar process without the aid of wire services. Reporters sometimes go to sites, do their reporting and e-mail 100 word briefs to editors. The brief appears on the Web site and when the reporter returns to the newsroom a follow-up piece is written for the Web site or print publication.
Keeping pace with the industry’s evolution and the need for instant gratification can be tedious yet remains integral if there should be any hope for the intellectual advancement of consumers.
I work with a reporter named John Barry. He is the music beat writer for the Poughkeepsie Journal and a product of our own SUNY New Paltz Journalism program. Over the course of his 15 year journalism career, Barry has come to embrace the business’ evolution.
He never goes anywhere without his journalism travel kit: a bag containing a notepad, his iPhone, digital voice recorder, camera and a laptop.
“Anything that’s going to allow me to get news to my readers quicker, I couldn’t love more,” said Barry. “All this technology is helping me.”
Barry spent last week residing in and reporting from the Woodstock Film Festival. With his kit, Barry was able to take and upload pictures, keep in touch with his editor, report, write and post articles on his blog daily.
Barry has adapted and believes that the medium’s evolution is “very elemental – I’ve embraced it and you have to embrace it or just go find another job.”
The state of American consumerism may demand a lot from reporters. However, there is no reason that need should go ignored considering the resources available.
John Barry believes that reporters must commit, embrace and adapt.
“If you’re a good journalist, the changing media is part of the story,” Barry said.
As many who read or watch the news have noticed, the medium is evolving rapidly.
Due to a combination of consumer demand and technological advances, news has become a 24 hour, instantaneous, interactive information portal that can be accessed from the palm of your hand.
This is not a bad thing. As I mentioned in a previous piece, there is no need to fight evolving media. A lot of journalists and journalism students have doubts about the future of the industry. However, I believe that fighting the consumers’ collective need for constant information is pointless and that journalism has a future, provided reporters adapt.
The consumer base in America seems to share the same mantra in terms of media consumption: “instant gratification.”
The idea of instant gratification as it relates to the American consumer society is summarized in an article by Ken Blackwell for The Washington Times entitled “Addicted to Debt; The Culture of Instant Fixes.”
“We have become a culture addicted to instant gratification and a fixation on the material. Increasingly, concepts such as duty, self-denial, hard work, delayed gratification, and patience have been swept away,” Blackwell said.
If this is indeed public opinion, then the journalism industry as a whole must contribute to the collective enlightenment of our communities.
I have been interning with the Poughkeepsie Journal for the past six weeks. I now see first-hand how the entire production process, including the effort that drives the process, is catered to keeping readers informed as quickly and efficiently as possible. I witness how stories are built from small briefs via newswire to 750 word features. I have also seen reporting on national events done almost exclusively from the field.
I now have a newfound infatuation with the Associated Press. I’ve always known what it is and its general ideology. However, I now see how newswires translate to stories: newswire reporters constantly check newswire co-ops like the AP and repost briefs on the now integral newspaper Web site.
From there, depending on how pertinent the story is, a beat reporter may follow up the brief by doing further reporting and writing a full article. The newly crafted piece is then posted on the Web site, printed in the following day’s paper or both.
According to the AP’s Web site, the co-op is now owned by 1,500 U.S. daily newspapers. It also houses “a 24-hour continuously updated online news service, a state-of-the-art television news service and one of the largest radio networks in the United States.”
Although the AP is a valuable tool for reporters, stories can go through a similar process without the aid of wire services. Reporters sometimes go to sites, do their reporting and e-mail 100 word briefs to editors. The brief appears on the Web site and when the reporter returns to the newsroom a follow-up piece is written for the Web site or print publication.
Keeping pace with the industry’s evolution and the need for instant gratification can be tedious yet remains integral if there should be any hope for the intellectual advancement of consumers.
I work with a reporter named John Barry. He is the music beat writer for the Poughkeepsie Journal and a product of our own SUNY New Paltz Journalism program. Over the course of his 15 year journalism career, Barry has come to embrace the business’ evolution.
He never goes anywhere without his journalism travel kit: a bag containing a notepad, his iPhone, digital voice recorder, camera and a laptop.
“Anything that’s going to allow me to get news to my readers quicker, I couldn’t love more,” said Barry. “All this technology is helping me.”
Barry spent last week residing in and reporting from the Woodstock Film Festival. With his kit, Barry was able to take and upload pictures, keep in touch with his editor, report, write and post articles on his blog daily.
Barry has adapted and believes that the medium’s evolution is “very elemental – I’ve embraced it and you have to embrace it or just go find another job.”
The state of American consumerism may demand a lot from reporters. However, there is no reason that need should go ignored considering the resources available.
John Barry believes that reporters must commit, embrace and adapt.
“If you’re a good journalist, the changing media is part of the story,” Barry said.
Social Networking is For Twits - Little Reellion Column - 10/1/09
This article can also be accessed at http://www2.newpaltz.edu/little-rebellion/?p=1649
The concept of social networking has been evolving rapidly over the past 10 years. Remember commenting, blogging and picture sharing? Now 140 characters or less is all it takes to become an internet celebrity.
Twitter’s Web site states that its main function is to “stay connected with friends, relatives, and coworkers.” However, it seems as though our generation is more interested in morbidly stalking celebrities and obsessing over mundane chunks of information.
Let’s think about this for a moment: Why would anyone be interested in what others are doing every minute of the day? More importantly, who feels compelled to update the world on their most insignificant happenings throughout the day?
I got news for you, kids. Nobody cares when you brush your teeth or where you do your homework.
I know I’ll meet with some combatants saying things like “People don’t only post about insignificant things, some only ‘tweet’ when something relevant happens.”
Well, to you I say: Call your friends and family on the phone to talk about your good grade in Freshman Comp. Why do you care if a bunch of cyber-friends are interested in you? Isn’t the attention of your immediate loved ones enough?
I don’t want to completely shun the idea. As many students in the Communications and Media department know, there is no reason to fight evolving media. Twitter is the future just like Facebook was the future five years ago. Political candidates can update citizens during speeches and meetings and sports bloggers can keep their readers posted on their opinions play by play. There certainly are people of interest that might be in high demand on a Web site like Twitter.
Take for example, our president. Nobody has graced the front page of the New York Times more in the past 9 months than President Barack Obama. We hear about when he makes a speech, when his wife wears a red dress or when his little girls bump their heads. It seems like President Obama is in high demand, does it not?
Then why in the world is he number 11 on Twitterholic.com, a Web site that keeps real-time tallies on the most popular Twitter users. Obama “Tweets” almost every day but has still fallen behind in terms of “Followers” to names like Ryan Seacrest, Britney Spears, Shaquille O’Neal and of course, Ashton Kutcher.
That’s right America. Your president is less popular than the guy from That 70’s Show and Punk’d in a social network targeting the same demographic that was chanting “change” last November.
This notion is a prime example of the attention economy as laid out by Advertising Age media columnist Simon Dumenco. In a piece titled The Real Meaning of Ashton Kutcher’s 1M Twitter Followers, Dumenco explains that the more time consumers invest in catering to people like Kutcher’s need to be popular, the less the readers actually benefit.
“The Many are actually investing their mind share –their currency in the attention economy –in a way that leads, for the most part, to the enrichment of ‘The Few,’” explains Dumenco. “To put it rather cynically, a certain portion of ‘The Many’ are getting ripped off-deprived of more and more of their mind share for little or no gain (or possibly a big loss).
Dumenco then wraps up his article by stating that if the pinnacle of the attention economy is Kutcher, then another bailout is needed.
This issue does not only idle with the uneducated and the bored.
I was sitting in class last week when I noticed a Twitter trend. I couldn’t avert my eyes from three kids who were browsing Twitter during a lecture. One was visiting pages of celebrities like Lil’ Kim and Kanye West, another was constantly refreshing his own Twitter page (the background of which is plastered with shirtless pictures of himself), and the last was clicking between tabs of her Twitter page and her Facebook page.
I was shocked.
I’m no saint. I browse the internet sometimes during classes in computer labs. But never have I found myself in an academic setting, with a professor lecturing and Lil’ Kim’s latest musings in front of me.
The scene culminated with about three minutes left in class when one of the Twitterholic students raised their hand. I watched in awe as he engaged in a poorly worded, unintelligent, yet topically relevant conversation with the professor as he updated his Twitter status.
The point is: I’m frustrated. I’m not frustrated at the fact that there is a Web site that’s only purpose is to make insignificant people aware of insignificant facts. I’m frustrated that a technology with such potential for constructive application is primarily used for such shallow, childish purposes.
The concept of social networking has been evolving rapidly over the past 10 years. Remember commenting, blogging and picture sharing? Now 140 characters or less is all it takes to become an internet celebrity.
Twitter’s Web site states that its main function is to “stay connected with friends, relatives, and coworkers.” However, it seems as though our generation is more interested in morbidly stalking celebrities and obsessing over mundane chunks of information.
Let’s think about this for a moment: Why would anyone be interested in what others are doing every minute of the day? More importantly, who feels compelled to update the world on their most insignificant happenings throughout the day?
I got news for you, kids. Nobody cares when you brush your teeth or where you do your homework.
I know I’ll meet with some combatants saying things like “People don’t only post about insignificant things, some only ‘tweet’ when something relevant happens.”
Well, to you I say: Call your friends and family on the phone to talk about your good grade in Freshman Comp. Why do you care if a bunch of cyber-friends are interested in you? Isn’t the attention of your immediate loved ones enough?
I don’t want to completely shun the idea. As many students in the Communications and Media department know, there is no reason to fight evolving media. Twitter is the future just like Facebook was the future five years ago. Political candidates can update citizens during speeches and meetings and sports bloggers can keep their readers posted on their opinions play by play. There certainly are people of interest that might be in high demand on a Web site like Twitter.
Take for example, our president. Nobody has graced the front page of the New York Times more in the past 9 months than President Barack Obama. We hear about when he makes a speech, when his wife wears a red dress or when his little girls bump their heads. It seems like President Obama is in high demand, does it not?
Then why in the world is he number 11 on Twitterholic.com, a Web site that keeps real-time tallies on the most popular Twitter users. Obama “Tweets” almost every day but has still fallen behind in terms of “Followers” to names like Ryan Seacrest, Britney Spears, Shaquille O’Neal and of course, Ashton Kutcher.
That’s right America. Your president is less popular than the guy from That 70’s Show and Punk’d in a social network targeting the same demographic that was chanting “change” last November.
This notion is a prime example of the attention economy as laid out by Advertising Age media columnist Simon Dumenco. In a piece titled The Real Meaning of Ashton Kutcher’s 1M Twitter Followers, Dumenco explains that the more time consumers invest in catering to people like Kutcher’s need to be popular, the less the readers actually benefit.
“The Many are actually investing their mind share –their currency in the attention economy –in a way that leads, for the most part, to the enrichment of ‘The Few,’” explains Dumenco. “To put it rather cynically, a certain portion of ‘The Many’ are getting ripped off-deprived of more and more of their mind share for little or no gain (or possibly a big loss).
Dumenco then wraps up his article by stating that if the pinnacle of the attention economy is Kutcher, then another bailout is needed.
This issue does not only idle with the uneducated and the bored.
I was sitting in class last week when I noticed a Twitter trend. I couldn’t avert my eyes from three kids who were browsing Twitter during a lecture. One was visiting pages of celebrities like Lil’ Kim and Kanye West, another was constantly refreshing his own Twitter page (the background of which is plastered with shirtless pictures of himself), and the last was clicking between tabs of her Twitter page and her Facebook page.
I was shocked.
I’m no saint. I browse the internet sometimes during classes in computer labs. But never have I found myself in an academic setting, with a professor lecturing and Lil’ Kim’s latest musings in front of me.
The scene culminated with about three minutes left in class when one of the Twitterholic students raised their hand. I watched in awe as he engaged in a poorly worded, unintelligent, yet topically relevant conversation with the professor as he updated his Twitter status.
The point is: I’m frustrated. I’m not frustrated at the fact that there is a Web site that’s only purpose is to make insignificant people aware of insignificant facts. I’m frustrated that a technology with such potential for constructive application is primarily used for such shallow, childish purposes.
Hiatus
yeah yeah... I haven't written in a long time. I'm interning with the Poughkeepsie Journal, taking 14 credits and writing a weekly column for the online school newspaper. Give me a break! I decided to make this into an e-portfolio so I'm going to start posting my professional work. Enjoy.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Pleasure Beach
Every word of this story is true. Enjoy...
Pleasure Beach
It was the last day of spring break and I woke to a loud knock on my bedroom door. “Are you coming or not? We’re leaving soon,” Paul said. I knew what he was talking about, but I wasn’t sure how to answer. Relunctently, I got out of bed, put on my boots, two pairs of socks, my best blue jeans and several layers of shirts. I walked into the living room with my hatchet brandished on my shoulder and stated “Let’s kill some fuckin’ zombies.”
The destination was Pleasure Beach, a mile-long strip of beach off the coast of Birdgeport Connecticut separated from the mainland by the Long Island Sound. Pleasure Beach was formerly a vacation spot for people who can afford vacation spots. In 1993, “vandals” burnt down the bridge that connects the beach to the mainland. Rather than rebuild the bridge, government officials in Birdgeport gave citizens only a few weeks to evacuate and take with them what they could. Since then, it has been a haven for anarchists, junkies and “hooligans” to use drugs and smash things. This place is a ghost town… there isn’t a single window that isn’t shattered, there isn’t a single door that isn’t kicked in and there isn’t a single house that can be considered reparable. Understand why wanted to check it out?
Me, Paul, Jamie, and Eric packed up the beat up Accord and began our journey unsure of what we would encounter. The car ride was like all car rides: shitty music, cigarettes and body odor. After two hours and one bathroom break we were in Bridgeport. We drove around for about two hours trying to figure out how to get even remotely close to this place. Directly across from Pleasure Beach is a swamp and Paul was convinced that we could simply wade through the swamp until we found a land bridge. After about 50 wrong turns, we found a place to park and started our trek. We walked for two hours through this smelly death trap of a swamp. The phrase “land bridge” began to make me sick to my stomach… it doesn’t exist…
Finally we ran into two older gentlemen carrying cameras and what looked like surveyors equipment walking along a gravel path that lined the swamp. “Do you know how to get to Pleasure Beach?” I asked desperately. I was met with a statement that both thrilled me and disappointed me. “Oh sure… just drive past the airport on the main drag, park in the parking lot at the end of the road and hike along the beach for about a mile.”
… Fuck… two hours, precious energy, and perfectly good socks completely wasted.
We were down but certainly not out. We followed the gravel path that took us back to the car in about 20 minutes.
Let’s recap: It took us 2 hours to wade through the swamp and 20 minutes to walk the gravel path back to the car. Moving on…
We hopped back in the car and continued on. Luckily it took us almost no time to find the parking lot. We parked, suited up, and started walking towards Pleasure Beach which was now in plain sight. It was about 4pm on a March afternoon, so hiking along a beach was cold; cold but beautiful… Light waves crashed against white sand and pastel shells were stacked like staircases indicating tidal patterns. While observing the aesthetics, we almost forgot about the eyesore we were about to see. Before we knew it there it was: Pleasure Beach in all of its graffitied glory.
Without missing a beat we invited ourselves into the first house we saw. We gawked in disbelief as we stared at a sea of broken glass, pealing wallpaper and beds with questionably stained linens. We wandered through it taking in every aspect of destruction. Jamie was taking pictures to document the madness, Eric was looking for souvenirs and Paul was looking for things to break. I’ve never used the phrase “maybe you shouldn’t touch that” so much in my life. I meandered my way through the wreckage in complete disbelief. Why are there clothes in closets? Why is the furniture still in the living room? Why are there dishes still in the cabinets? Why did these people have to leave in such a hurry? Questions were floating around in my mind like driftwood in the Sound. Regardless of how bizarre the placement of inorganic matter was, I couldn’t stop asking myself what could be around the next corner. A junkie shooting up? A dead body? Maybe a psychotic squatter with more weapons than common sense… It didn’t matter. We were there and we had to take it all in.
We continued through a few more houses taking pictures and asking each other rhetorical questions. In one house the floor was scattered with markers, crayons and children’s games and toys. All I could think about was how I wish I could make more sense of it than a miniature zombie apocalypse. The fourth house was the last house we would see that day. Jamie and I were in the living room as Eric and Paul explored the second floor and back porch. Jamie heard a crash, which ended up being Eric in the other room trying to scare us. It worked… Jamie and I ran for the front door unwilling to seek out the origin of said disturbance. We were met at the door by a Glock-9 and an emphatic yell: “Get your fucking hands up.”
Without thinking I said “Shit!” and threw my hands in the air. It was the cops…
Apparently one of the houses had burnt down the day before and local Police Department had been combing the beach for arsonists. They patted us down and made snide remarks like “if something in your pocket sticks me you’re going to have a bad day.” I couldn’t help but think “if something in my pocket sticks you, you’re going to have a worse day…”
It wasn’t just one cop, it was four. And they didn’t just come in the front door they had us flanked from the back door too. They condescendingly interrogated us assuming that we read the Birdgeport Times. “Didn’t you hear about the place that burnt down yesterday?”
“What happens when a place like this catches on fire? How do you expect us to get a fire truck out here?”
“How would you like it if someone walked into your house and just started smashing shit?”
“Don’t you have things to take pictures of in New York?”
Apparently they were unable to see the appeal of a town that has been completely frozen in time. I’ve never gotten a gun pointed in my face before, so I was a bit frazzled and couldn’t come up with any intelligent answers to their questions. Paul, however, is very good at dealing with cops. He was honest, articulate, and respectful. More than I can say about myself. Ultimately we were never arrested and only giving $92 trespassing tickets and sent on our ways. Before walking away we heard one of the cops mutter “It looks like we have more work to do” as two other kids walked towards us from the horizon.
The walk back to the car was quiet. If anyone said anything it was either a profanity or something like “I can’t believe this.” I certainly couldn’t believe it. Never once did we pass a sign that said “no trespassing.” Never once did we have to hop a fence and never once did we think we were doing anything illegal. Even if we were to set one of those hellholes on fire, would it be awful? When I use the term “irreparable” I really mean it. Not a single pane of glass wasn’t shattered and the wood in the unkempt houses had been severely warped from a lack of maintenance. If visiting this place is so awful, why not put up a no trespassing sign? Why not build a fence? Why leave such a, as one of the cops said, “shithole” so easily accessible?
From this clusterfuck of events, I have reached one conclusion. It’s all a scam… God knows why they never rebuilt the bridge and shipped people out so fast, but I think I know why they don’t put up No Trespassing signs. It’s a step away from entrapment. Bridgeport is one of the most impoverished cities in Connecticut. What better way to gain revenue than leave an appealing eyesore in plain view and ticket everyone who sets foot on the property….
Fuck the Police.
Pleasure Beach
It was the last day of spring break and I woke to a loud knock on my bedroom door. “Are you coming or not? We’re leaving soon,” Paul said. I knew what he was talking about, but I wasn’t sure how to answer. Relunctently, I got out of bed, put on my boots, two pairs of socks, my best blue jeans and several layers of shirts. I walked into the living room with my hatchet brandished on my shoulder and stated “Let’s kill some fuckin’ zombies.”
The destination was Pleasure Beach, a mile-long strip of beach off the coast of Birdgeport Connecticut separated from the mainland by the Long Island Sound. Pleasure Beach was formerly a vacation spot for people who can afford vacation spots. In 1993, “vandals” burnt down the bridge that connects the beach to the mainland. Rather than rebuild the bridge, government officials in Birdgeport gave citizens only a few weeks to evacuate and take with them what they could. Since then, it has been a haven for anarchists, junkies and “hooligans” to use drugs and smash things. This place is a ghost town… there isn’t a single window that isn’t shattered, there isn’t a single door that isn’t kicked in and there isn’t a single house that can be considered reparable. Understand why wanted to check it out?
Me, Paul, Jamie, and Eric packed up the beat up Accord and began our journey unsure of what we would encounter. The car ride was like all car rides: shitty music, cigarettes and body odor. After two hours and one bathroom break we were in Bridgeport. We drove around for about two hours trying to figure out how to get even remotely close to this place. Directly across from Pleasure Beach is a swamp and Paul was convinced that we could simply wade through the swamp until we found a land bridge. After about 50 wrong turns, we found a place to park and started our trek. We walked for two hours through this smelly death trap of a swamp. The phrase “land bridge” began to make me sick to my stomach… it doesn’t exist…
Finally we ran into two older gentlemen carrying cameras and what looked like surveyors equipment walking along a gravel path that lined the swamp. “Do you know how to get to Pleasure Beach?” I asked desperately. I was met with a statement that both thrilled me and disappointed me. “Oh sure… just drive past the airport on the main drag, park in the parking lot at the end of the road and hike along the beach for about a mile.”
… Fuck… two hours, precious energy, and perfectly good socks completely wasted.
We were down but certainly not out. We followed the gravel path that took us back to the car in about 20 minutes.
Let’s recap: It took us 2 hours to wade through the swamp and 20 minutes to walk the gravel path back to the car. Moving on…
We hopped back in the car and continued on. Luckily it took us almost no time to find the parking lot. We parked, suited up, and started walking towards Pleasure Beach which was now in plain sight. It was about 4pm on a March afternoon, so hiking along a beach was cold; cold but beautiful… Light waves crashed against white sand and pastel shells were stacked like staircases indicating tidal patterns. While observing the aesthetics, we almost forgot about the eyesore we were about to see. Before we knew it there it was: Pleasure Beach in all of its graffitied glory.
Without missing a beat we invited ourselves into the first house we saw. We gawked in disbelief as we stared at a sea of broken glass, pealing wallpaper and beds with questionably stained linens. We wandered through it taking in every aspect of destruction. Jamie was taking pictures to document the madness, Eric was looking for souvenirs and Paul was looking for things to break. I’ve never used the phrase “maybe you shouldn’t touch that” so much in my life. I meandered my way through the wreckage in complete disbelief. Why are there clothes in closets? Why is the furniture still in the living room? Why are there dishes still in the cabinets? Why did these people have to leave in such a hurry? Questions were floating around in my mind like driftwood in the Sound. Regardless of how bizarre the placement of inorganic matter was, I couldn’t stop asking myself what could be around the next corner. A junkie shooting up? A dead body? Maybe a psychotic squatter with more weapons than common sense… It didn’t matter. We were there and we had to take it all in.
We continued through a few more houses taking pictures and asking each other rhetorical questions. In one house the floor was scattered with markers, crayons and children’s games and toys. All I could think about was how I wish I could make more sense of it than a miniature zombie apocalypse. The fourth house was the last house we would see that day. Jamie and I were in the living room as Eric and Paul explored the second floor and back porch. Jamie heard a crash, which ended up being Eric in the other room trying to scare us. It worked… Jamie and I ran for the front door unwilling to seek out the origin of said disturbance. We were met at the door by a Glock-9 and an emphatic yell: “Get your fucking hands up.”
Without thinking I said “Shit!” and threw my hands in the air. It was the cops…
Apparently one of the houses had burnt down the day before and local Police Department had been combing the beach for arsonists. They patted us down and made snide remarks like “if something in your pocket sticks me you’re going to have a bad day.” I couldn’t help but think “if something in my pocket sticks you, you’re going to have a worse day…”
It wasn’t just one cop, it was four. And they didn’t just come in the front door they had us flanked from the back door too. They condescendingly interrogated us assuming that we read the Birdgeport Times. “Didn’t you hear about the place that burnt down yesterday?”
“What happens when a place like this catches on fire? How do you expect us to get a fire truck out here?”
“How would you like it if someone walked into your house and just started smashing shit?”
“Don’t you have things to take pictures of in New York?”
Apparently they were unable to see the appeal of a town that has been completely frozen in time. I’ve never gotten a gun pointed in my face before, so I was a bit frazzled and couldn’t come up with any intelligent answers to their questions. Paul, however, is very good at dealing with cops. He was honest, articulate, and respectful. More than I can say about myself. Ultimately we were never arrested and only giving $92 trespassing tickets and sent on our ways. Before walking away we heard one of the cops mutter “It looks like we have more work to do” as two other kids walked towards us from the horizon.
The walk back to the car was quiet. If anyone said anything it was either a profanity or something like “I can’t believe this.” I certainly couldn’t believe it. Never once did we pass a sign that said “no trespassing.” Never once did we have to hop a fence and never once did we think we were doing anything illegal. Even if we were to set one of those hellholes on fire, would it be awful? When I use the term “irreparable” I really mean it. Not a single pane of glass wasn’t shattered and the wood in the unkempt houses had been severely warped from a lack of maintenance. If visiting this place is so awful, why not put up a no trespassing sign? Why not build a fence? Why leave such a, as one of the cops said, “shithole” so easily accessible?
From this clusterfuck of events, I have reached one conclusion. It’s all a scam… God knows why they never rebuilt the bridge and shipped people out so fast, but I think I know why they don’t put up No Trespassing signs. It’s a step away from entrapment. Bridgeport is one of the most impoverished cities in Connecticut. What better way to gain revenue than leave an appealing eyesore in plain view and ticket everyone who sets foot on the property….
Fuck the Police.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
This is an essay I wrote about why The Wire is awesome. Enjoy.
The HBO original series The Wire has gained much acclaim since its premier in 2002. This police crime/drama chronicles the underground drug trade in Baltimore Maryland from the perspectives of drug dealers, police officers, and political figures. Journalists Maureen Ryan of the Chicago Tribune and Tim Goodman of the San Francisco Chronicle agree that it was one of the best shows on television during its reign (2002 – 2008). They explain that The Wire earns its prowess from its dense storylines, literary writing styles, and relevant social criticism. All of these elements are prevalent in the second episode of season one entitled “You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play.”
In this episode, the density of the show becomes apparent. In Goodman’s article, “Yes, HBO’s ‘Wire’ is Challenging. It’s Also a Masterpiece,” a “dense” television show is one that can be difficult to follow because of the intricacies associated with serial storylines. He claims that density is a good thing and that “expecting the series to be simple, easy or unchallenging is a ridiculous notion” (Goodman). “You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play” picks up where the last episode left off with controversy surrounding a dead murder witness. The program’s density comes into play when storylines begin to overlap. The audience follows D’Angelo Barksdale, a street level drug dealer, as the police arrest him and coax him into writing an apology letter to the family of the dead witness. This occurrence implies that Barksdale might be affiliated with the murder. At the same time, viewers begin learning about how corrupt the narcotics unit really is: Crooked cops perform false arrests and drunken shakedowns. Finally, throughout the duration of the episode, Colonel Daniels complains to and bargains with superior officers in relation to the personnel in his narcotics unit.
These overlapping plots are not a bad thing, Goodman argues; television programs are more entertaining when they stimulate audience members’ minds. Goodman also discusses the pity he has for viewers that are too lazy to attempt to follow The Wire: “It's viewers who should worry that they are missing the absolute best of what television has to offer merely because it requires effort” (Goodman). Where he admits that The Wire can be difficult for new viewers to follow, Goodman believes that the show is not too complex for intelligent audience members to understand.
The main element that makes The Wire easier to follow is the literary style in which the show is written. In Ryan’s article, “Hooked by ‘The Wire’,” the storytelling is described as being “gripping” and the series is compared to a “meaty novel.” Goodman agrees by describing the plot of The Wire as one that “continues to move slowly, with intricate strands of story revealing themselves at a leisurely pace, like a good, well-crafted book. No, check that -- like a great novel.” (Goodman). In “You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play,” literary styles become apparent throughout the episode.
A recurring literary theme in this episode and the entire series is a chant echoed by the low-level drug dealers. Whenever a street dealer sees a police officer they yell “5-0” which then gets echoed by every other dealer in the vicinity. The repetition of this phrase becomes expected by the audience and analogous with the camaraderie associated with the drug-dealing community. Foreshadowing is also present in “You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play.” At one point, D’Angelo Barksdale visits his uncle, drug kingpin Avon Barksdale. D’Angelo hands his son over to Avon, at which point Avon refers to the child as his “little soldier.” The word “soldier,” as it’s used on the street, means drug dealer and/or gang member. Avon’s statement leads the viewers to believe that the family will be raising their children as drug-dealing gang-bangers.
The idea of breeding children for a life of crime also exemplifies the idea of social commentary contributing to the quality of The Wire. Again, Ryan and Goodman agree that the presence of social commentary is a defining element of the program. Ryan states that “The Wire steers clear of preaching, but it’s impossible not to see the graft and wheeling and dealing that goes on in the higher echelons of Baltimore’s power structure without also seeing parallels in the petty larceny on the street corners and the theft and betrayals among the city’s drug dealers” (Ryan). Goodman believes that The Wire does an exemplary job of explaining modern drug wars, racial issues, poverty, and political corruption. He goes on to illustrate that “Few series in the history of television have explored the plight of inner-city African Americans and none -- not one -- has done it as well” (Goodman).
“You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play” is filled with socially critical elements that are both obvious and abstract. A less apparent socially relevant instance occurs towards the end of the episode. Officer McNulty is shown drinking beer in his car. He sees two men trying to break into a car. He tries to stop them, but instead he drunkenly stumbles down a hill. He couples his embarrassing spill with an open chuckle while looking at his police badge. This act leads viewers to imply that police officers are imperfect. They have problems, flaws, and do not always act as responsible authority figures.
Later in the episode, Officer Pryzbylewski pistol whips a young boy for leaning on his car. This obvious act of brutality leads to a formal complaint from the boy’s mother. In order to minimize damage, Colonel Daniels coaches Pryzbylewski on how to lie to Internal Affairs, should they contact him. When asked why Pryzbylewski struck the boy, he replies with “because he pissed me off.” Daniels then says “No, Pryzblewski, he did not piss you off. He made you fear for your safety and that of your fellow officers… Go practice…” The obvious social criticism implies that repercussions can be avoided if a crooked cop conducts himself in the right manner. It is made apparent that a police officer has more credibility than a young black boy from the Baltimore housing projects. This idea may be inherently unjust, but more often than not, it is true.
A television show should embody certain criteria to a quality program. The Wire is a dense show that combines literary storytelling and relevant social commentary to intrigue viewers. Journalists Maureen Ryan and Tim Goodman concur that the advent of these criteria helps illustrate why The Wire is a quality program. An episode called “You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play” embodies density, literary storytelling and social commentary; therefore, this episode can be considered an exemplary installment of a complex and quality series
The HBO original series The Wire has gained much acclaim since its premier in 2002. This police crime/drama chronicles the underground drug trade in Baltimore Maryland from the perspectives of drug dealers, police officers, and political figures. Journalists Maureen Ryan of the Chicago Tribune and Tim Goodman of the San Francisco Chronicle agree that it was one of the best shows on television during its reign (2002 – 2008). They explain that The Wire earns its prowess from its dense storylines, literary writing styles, and relevant social criticism. All of these elements are prevalent in the second episode of season one entitled “You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play.”
In this episode, the density of the show becomes apparent. In Goodman’s article, “Yes, HBO’s ‘Wire’ is Challenging. It’s Also a Masterpiece,” a “dense” television show is one that can be difficult to follow because of the intricacies associated with serial storylines. He claims that density is a good thing and that “expecting the series to be simple, easy or unchallenging is a ridiculous notion” (Goodman). “You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play” picks up where the last episode left off with controversy surrounding a dead murder witness. The program’s density comes into play when storylines begin to overlap. The audience follows D’Angelo Barksdale, a street level drug dealer, as the police arrest him and coax him into writing an apology letter to the family of the dead witness. This occurrence implies that Barksdale might be affiliated with the murder. At the same time, viewers begin learning about how corrupt the narcotics unit really is: Crooked cops perform false arrests and drunken shakedowns. Finally, throughout the duration of the episode, Colonel Daniels complains to and bargains with superior officers in relation to the personnel in his narcotics unit.
These overlapping plots are not a bad thing, Goodman argues; television programs are more entertaining when they stimulate audience members’ minds. Goodman also discusses the pity he has for viewers that are too lazy to attempt to follow The Wire: “It's viewers who should worry that they are missing the absolute best of what television has to offer merely because it requires effort” (Goodman). Where he admits that The Wire can be difficult for new viewers to follow, Goodman believes that the show is not too complex for intelligent audience members to understand.
The main element that makes The Wire easier to follow is the literary style in which the show is written. In Ryan’s article, “Hooked by ‘The Wire’,” the storytelling is described as being “gripping” and the series is compared to a “meaty novel.” Goodman agrees by describing the plot of The Wire as one that “continues to move slowly, with intricate strands of story revealing themselves at a leisurely pace, like a good, well-crafted book. No, check that -- like a great novel.” (Goodman). In “You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play,” literary styles become apparent throughout the episode.
A recurring literary theme in this episode and the entire series is a chant echoed by the low-level drug dealers. Whenever a street dealer sees a police officer they yell “5-0” which then gets echoed by every other dealer in the vicinity. The repetition of this phrase becomes expected by the audience and analogous with the camaraderie associated with the drug-dealing community. Foreshadowing is also present in “You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play.” At one point, D’Angelo Barksdale visits his uncle, drug kingpin Avon Barksdale. D’Angelo hands his son over to Avon, at which point Avon refers to the child as his “little soldier.” The word “soldier,” as it’s used on the street, means drug dealer and/or gang member. Avon’s statement leads the viewers to believe that the family will be raising their children as drug-dealing gang-bangers.
The idea of breeding children for a life of crime also exemplifies the idea of social commentary contributing to the quality of The Wire. Again, Ryan and Goodman agree that the presence of social commentary is a defining element of the program. Ryan states that “The Wire steers clear of preaching, but it’s impossible not to see the graft and wheeling and dealing that goes on in the higher echelons of Baltimore’s power structure without also seeing parallels in the petty larceny on the street corners and the theft and betrayals among the city’s drug dealers” (Ryan). Goodman believes that The Wire does an exemplary job of explaining modern drug wars, racial issues, poverty, and political corruption. He goes on to illustrate that “Few series in the history of television have explored the plight of inner-city African Americans and none -- not one -- has done it as well” (Goodman).
“You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play” is filled with socially critical elements that are both obvious and abstract. A less apparent socially relevant instance occurs towards the end of the episode. Officer McNulty is shown drinking beer in his car. He sees two men trying to break into a car. He tries to stop them, but instead he drunkenly stumbles down a hill. He couples his embarrassing spill with an open chuckle while looking at his police badge. This act leads viewers to imply that police officers are imperfect. They have problems, flaws, and do not always act as responsible authority figures.
Later in the episode, Officer Pryzbylewski pistol whips a young boy for leaning on his car. This obvious act of brutality leads to a formal complaint from the boy’s mother. In order to minimize damage, Colonel Daniels coaches Pryzbylewski on how to lie to Internal Affairs, should they contact him. When asked why Pryzbylewski struck the boy, he replies with “because he pissed me off.” Daniels then says “No, Pryzblewski, he did not piss you off. He made you fear for your safety and that of your fellow officers… Go practice…” The obvious social criticism implies that repercussions can be avoided if a crooked cop conducts himself in the right manner. It is made apparent that a police officer has more credibility than a young black boy from the Baltimore housing projects. This idea may be inherently unjust, but more often than not, it is true.
A television show should embody certain criteria to a quality program. The Wire is a dense show that combines literary storytelling and relevant social commentary to intrigue viewers. Journalists Maureen Ryan and Tim Goodman concur that the advent of these criteria helps illustrate why The Wire is a quality program. An episode called “You Cannot Lose if You Do Not Play” embodies density, literary storytelling and social commentary; therefore, this episode can be considered an exemplary installment of a complex and quality series
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