Category Archives: magazine

My View Of "Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer"

Posted on by drumsintheglobalvillage

The 8-year-old (or so) I was with Friday night loved it. And my 9:15 p.m. Silver Spring showing looked sold out. When my friend Raoul Dennis asked for my verdict right after it was over, I said, “Well, it’s better the first, but what is that really saying?” We both laughed.

This is the reality of  “Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer.” Believe it or not, no mistakes were made the first time around, because all Tim Story did was make a better version of the first film. And I can’t be too mad at the brother; if my film made $300 million worldwide, would I really change that much?

That said, it IS better and worth seeing—even if you are a die-hard fan. At least the F.F. acted like the scientists/explorers they are in cartoons and comics. At least there were more scenes with Alicia Masters (and both her banter with Johnny Storm, and his conversations with and about her, were GREAT).

And Ol’ Chrome-Dome was on point. Visually, very much the character who blew my mind as a kid.

I’m excited about the Silver Surfer spin-off that’s in development. I hope in that film Galactus will be portrayed more traditionally. The storm thing DID work for “Rise,” though. As one poster said on “The Fantastic Four Message Board“: “While seeing Galactus looked cool back in my younger days I think we have all become a bit more sophisticated and I don’t think a big guy setting up some equipment on the the rooftop of a NYC skyscraper would have been better than the ominous looking Galactic Storm that threatens to consume the planet. Perhaps one day the original trilogy can be done by a top flight outfit like Pixar because I think he would look more plausible in that type of film.”

Blah, blah, blah. 🙂 None of this—including the weird (read: too fake) look that Jessica Alba’s very blond wig and too-blue contacts generated, the critics-reinforced opinion that many, MANY scenes could have been better acted—really matters. Silly Rabbit; Tricks Are For Kids. As I explained to a colleague on Friday before seeing the film: “I’m stuck. I’ve LOVED these characters since I was 10 years old.”

So with the Surfer risen, The Cosmic Quartet gains another group of 8-year-olds as a fan base, while the 10-year-old in me waits to join the next batch on line Opening Day for “FF3” in 2009. Not EXACTLY a lose-lose. 🙂

Congrats To American Journalism Review!

Posted on by drumsintheglobalvillage

I’m biased, but AJR—the winner of an Mirror Award for Overall Excellence from Syracuse University’s S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications—can be a very good magazine when it wants to be. It’s a solid resource for its targeted audience—the small group of white men (and some white women) who guide American mainstream journalism. It’s important to point out, however, that the percentage of white females who write for it, and/or help manage it, has traditionally been VERY strong.

So Here's What We Know (I Think) About "Smallville"'s Next Season……..

Posted on by drumsintheglobalvillage

1) Lana’s not dead. She pulled a David Copperfield, and got into that vehicle that was passing by her car.

(Aside: Folks on the Web LOVE to hate Lana. But she’s too beautiful to hate. 🙂 )

2) Chloe will either be dead, alive or dead-but-a-permanent-part-of-Lois. And wouldn’t the third be crazy??? From the very beginning, some rabid “Smallville” fans have been theorizing that somehow Chloe would morph into Lois. Erica Durance joining the show killed that idea……until now. Hmmm……..  🙂 I love Chloe, but her essence transfer would be a “solution” to the problem of her on this show—taking up Lois’ historic space. And it would give this Lois a boost in the attributes and characteristics she needs to be a proper part of the Superman mythos.

3) Lionel’s not dead. Just knocked out.

4) Clark will find a way to kick Bizarro‘s ass, and he won’t put on a costume to do it.

 5) This was a strong ending to a weak season.

May 18th UPDATE: Understand that Chloe’s alive and will be on next season.

Says Al Gough, “Smallville”‘s executive producer, in this interview (which I didn’t read carefully enough yesterday): 

The idea that Chloe had a power was always something in the back of our minds, but we didn’t want it to be a cheap trick, we wanted the audience to be invested in the character and her relationship with Clark, and if we were going to do it, it was to deepen the character, which we think it does, and will allow us to keep exploring Chloe in season 7. You’ll see her power first manifest in the season finale.

 

Okay, there goes the theory. For now. 🙂

P.S. I guess it means NOBODY died after all. Oh, well, I would cry “gyp,” but it was an entertaining hour, so…….

A Few Words From Studs Terkel

Posted on by drumsintheglobalvillage

Enjoyed Studs Terkel being interviewed today on “Democracy Now!” I’ve wanted to be the next coming of Studs for at least 15 years now. Happy 95th Birthday, Studs!

Wanted to post some excerpts I particularly enjoyed. So here they are.

I’m known as a poet of the tape recorder, right? The fact is I have no idea how the hell it works. I’m terrible, I’m a nut, mechanically. I can’t drive a car. I can’t ride a bike. I don’t know what “internet” means, or “website.” Google is an old-time comic strip — “Barney Google” — with his goo-goo-googly eyes.

 

And so, you see, I’m not up on all the current stuff. And people say, “Boy, on that tape recorder, you capture those people.” No, they capture themselves, because I am inept. That comes out quite clearly.

Sometimes I turn the wrong button down. And that person in the housing project, she sees it doesn’t work, and she reminds me of it. And as I say, “Oh, I goofed,” at that moment, she is my equal or better than my equal. In other words, I am not, whoever it is, [inaudible], “Today” or “60 Minutes” or Kathy, whoever she is. It’s me, a guy who’s in trouble, and she helps me out. And so, I’m playing this tape recorder for this woman, very poor, very pretty. I don’t know whether she’s white or black. In those days, the early public housing projects were all mixed. And these little kids running around want to hear their mama’s voice on this new machine. And so, I’m playing it back, and she’s hearing her voice for the first time in her life, and suddenly she says, “Oh, my god!” And I say, “What is it?” She said, “I never thought I felt that way before.” Well, that’s an astonishing moment for her and for me, one you might say are fellow travelers together. So that’s the exciting stuff. She discovers that she does have a voice, that she counts.

The key word, by the way, in all of these people is they must feel they “count.” Nick von Hoffman, the columnist, used to work for the organizer Saul Alinsky, and he said once people get in a group and that group thinks as they do, he feels he counts or she counts more than alone. And so, that’s what it’s about.

AMY GOODMAN: What do you want them to think of when someone says “Studs Terkel”?

STUDS TERKEL: I want them to think of somebody who remembers them, to be remembered, whether it be me or anyone else. They want Studs Terkel, maybe as somebody — I’m romanticizing myself now — somebody who gave me hope. One of my books is Hope Dies Last. Without hope, forget it. It’s hope and thought, and that can counting. That’s what it’s about. That’s what I hope I’m about.

Asante Sana, New Ancestor Judy Dothard Simmons

Posted on by drumsintheglobalvillage

My friend and mentor Judy Dothard Simmons died over the weekend. She was a good person who happened to be a great writer. A poet, she was a pioneer of Black news-talk radio (New York’s WLIB-AM) and national magazine journalism (Essence, Ms. ).

I thought I’d share a couple of her (group) emails from last year. They say a lot about her.

—————-

From: “Judy Simmons” <dexta@cableone.net>
To: “Judy Simmons” <dexta@cableone.net>
Subject:
Date: Sat, 12 Aug 2006 09:40:42 -0500

Dear Elisha,

It’s Saturday again. The week has flown by since you stopped here and graciously brought the Noni juice. I’m so glad you did that. It not only restored my basic support to me, but it also warms my heart that you are generous and understanding in your wonderful way.

I have decided not to have a laparoscopy. The second thing Dr. Huh said after introducing himself was that he didn’t want to do surgery on me because I would probably die on the table. Only one person, a doctor in Anniston who had never examined me before, raised the specter of ovarian cancer. That set everything rocketing off like crazy.

Then I arrive at UAB and nobody can see through the calcified fibroid tissue all over the place to discern where the womb is, what shape it’s in, or what kind of tissue the “mass” is. This takes us through cat scan, cat scan with liquid (not the dye, something else for contrast); vaginal echo, and ultimately MRI, which was supposed to give the one true answer for where to insert for a needle biopsy.

No dice.

Meanwhile, when they finally take of a couple of liters of fluid, within thirty minutes I have a fully formed stool, which hadn’t happened for a month.

The fluid that was removed does not seem to be coming back, and my bowel (with colace) is working two or three times a day. I have no pain, and my breathing is not labored. I do not have cancer.

Why go looking for a disease I show little sign of instead of looking at the disease I clearly have—congestive heart failure—which is known to produce fluid and symptoms of the sort I’m displaying? So, since surgery is surgery, laparoscopic or otherwise, and the doctor said in my hearing that maybe he could get in and out in 15 minutes and that wouldn’t be so bad, cutting me (invading the envelope) seems more of a risk than the possible diagnosis is worth.

Bear in mind that any mass, cancerous or not-cancerous, would sooner or later require surgery to remove, and it was made clear to me that no responsible practitioners are going to put me under general anesthetic and do the two- to four-hour (or more) operation to remove mass.

Who’s to say that where he goes in for the laparoscopy is going to be any more productive of non-fibroid tissue than all the other tests that showed him he can’t see what’s there anyway?

He talked about needing to find an anesthesiologist who was willing to take a chance on a heart in the shape mine is in, even for a spinal and sedation.

He said that even if it were cancer and he treated it with chemo first, it would eventually boil down to needing surgery and that isn’t an option.

So, basically, I would be submitting to a life-threatening procedure so the doctors can be certain about something that can only degrade the quality of my life by causing me risk, discomfort, and a healing procedure that, right now, my body is telling me in no uncertain terms that it is not up to. And since this good body has always risen to the occasion, no matter how I’ve jeopardized and neglected it, I’m listening now that it says, “Judy, I just can’t make this one. It’s asking too much.”

My Anniston cardiologist had a full-fledged two-year-old temper tantrum yesterday because I told him I would not get a pacemaker (for the ninth or tenth time; by the way, the UAB teaching hospital flower-of-the-south medical-center cardiology gods said a pacemaker would do me no earthly good, as I suspected). Then my cardiology said he didn’t think I had cancer—which is why I was sent to UAB oncology on the say so of a gynecology who had never examined before he stuck is finger into me in the hospital bed and opined with deep seriousness that I really, really, probably had ovarian cancer.

The cardiology told me yesterday he thought the fluid in my abdomen was consequent to right-side heart failure, but he refused to treat me for that unless I had a laparoscopy (which would never have occurred to him if this other guy hadn’t raised the cancer issue).

So, my cardiologist turned me back over to my primary care physician and refused to give me the benefit of his cardiology expertise on how to manage the excess fluid
collecting in the abdomen from diuretics and heart failure. There are medical manipulations he can do—he told me that—but unless I consent to a tissue diagnosis (which, again, we have no guarantee they will get, all other tests having shown no markers for cancer, he won’t help me any further.

There was more stuff he vented which showed he thinks he has made me live, and that I have had no part in making decisions that resulted in his being able to help me, and preventing him from injuring me.

I grasped his hand in a shake and told him I was grateful to him for his help. Badtemperedly, he shook off my hand and snapped, “Don’t be grateful to me.” I took hold of his hand again, said again that I am grateful to him, and he basically threw me out of his office.

I’m listening to the fine classical jazz collection I’ve amassed over the years, putting my affairs in order, loving my dog and my friends, and generally having a good time for the first time in fifteen or twenty years. I am walking through the valley of the shadow of death and feeling damn good about it. I fear no evil, for I AM always and ever living.

So, for more info, call.

Judy

From: “Judy Simmons” <dexta@cableone.net>
To: “Judy Simmons” <dexta@cableone.net>
Subject:
Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2006 17:53:33 -0500

Sixty-two doesn’t feel the same as thirty-three, and I think folks who say it does are lying. These great Indian seers who don’t breathe earthly air and put on and take off bodies like togas—I guess I’m ain’t one uh them. Also I just figured out that some of the unaccustomed sensations I have been thinking are ill health are signs of a body used for six decades.

I’m sittin’ up here in the house following the U.S. Tennis Open on tv. I listen to these people rattle on—the anchors, pundits, and hosts—and I’m torn between shooting them all with my high-vibration consciousness death ray or plunging back down to the depths where they don’t swim, sharks though they are. The death ray hasn’t worked so far, and being under water has its own drawbacks.

So, here I am, missing my radio show after twenty years, and without any media outlet for my spleen. I really liked being on WLIB AM, NY when it started the news-talk format in the 1980s. Then Philippe Wamba, the chief editor who made Africana.com an engaging web stop, put up with me from 2000-2002. He hired me as staff writer, editor, columnist, and insecure egotist. We both found out I was too old a dog (mid-40s) to do any corporation’s stupid pet tricks. He was kind, and kept me going for two years until he left and died some months later in an automobile accident in an African country. (If it were Europe, I would know it matters which country things happen in, but since it’s the Dark Continent, it’s all the same.)

Okay, so clearly I don’t have enough social life here, so when I want to party or converse, I’m just realizing, I send off one of these mass mailings. I figure the delete key is handy enough, so you shouldn’t get too annoyed, and a few people tell me they like getting what I write. For me, I’m realizing, it’s doing my radio show, which was very extemporaneous. It’s whatever it is that makes me need to be a public communicator (writer, broadcaster, contributor of information and sometimes knowledge).

Why don’t I do a blog? Because I don’t expect people to come to me. I have to be where they can catch my drift, as it were. And besides, this is personal in an immediate way. Feedback comes quickly as people are moved to give some—it’s not required—and I imagine how some of you look while reading this. It keeps me off the streets, and it’s about all the effort I’m up to giving.

And, I’m developing my communications skills. Language keeps changing. Plus, as I enlarge my understanding of how we people operate, I keep an ear out for the rhythm, cadence, and tones of the times. It’s about the gestalt. The way images move nowadays has so much to do with what people see and hear. When I was in psych school back in the day—(I could have said “school a million years ago”) but I think the “back” phrase has a more satisfying crunch; what do you think?)—anyway, when I took psych we talked about gestalt. As I understood it, it meant getting a whole picture that’s more than the separate pixels, stimuli, responses, actions, and so forth put together like a jigsaw puzzle. The individual pieces say “sky,” “grass,” “cloak,” or whatever, but the whole picture calls out emotional, aesthetic, and intellectual responses that are more than cardboard interlocking on a table.

Another question people ask me is why didn’t I stay in media and become an internationally famous personality. Well, seldom is one allowed to do such things on one’s own terms, and refuse to or can’t do them on any other.

So, those are some of my reflections this day. I didn’t rave on about how I can’t stand the most of what’s going on in our culture, given that the sole raison d’etre for much of it is the mindless and soulless pursuit of material wealth. There’s a difference between being the master of money and the servant of it. Guess which most us are.

Love, Judy

May 10 UPDATE: Here’s the official death announcement.

Judy Dothard Simmons

Judy Dothard Simmons, a noted poet, journalist, author and broadcaster, died on Sunday, May 6 in Anniston, Alabama from heart complications.

Since the 1970s, Judy’s thought-provoking writings and broadcasts had won her national acclaim. She had been a senior editor at Essence and Ms. magazines. Also, she had been managing editor for the NAACP’s Crisis magazine, a columnist for Harvard University/Time Warner’s Africana.com, and an editor at Black Enterprise. During the early 1980s Judy had a popular radio talk show on New York’s first Black commercial talk station WLIB and also on Pacifica’s WBAI. Her articles had appeared in The Village Voice, American Legacy Woman, and others. Also, she had been a guest on Donahue.

During the 1990s, Judy returned to Alabama and was a columnist for The Anniston Star. A celebrated poet, she was a Revson Fellow at Columbia University and did graduate work in poetry. Judy was the author of several books of poetry and essays including Decent Intentions, Judith’s Blues, and A Light in the Dark. She was also a contributor to the book Wild Women Don’t Wear No Blues. Her vibrant voice will be sorely missed.

Arrangements are being handled by Ervine Funeral Home in Anniston, Ala.: (256) 237-1717.

R.I.P., Black Family Channel?

Posted on by drumsintheglobalvillage

If so, too bad.

I’ve thought it was going to merge with TV One, not just die.

Our activists like to talk about our hundred billion dollar spending power. Well,  it’s clear now that having a trillion dollars doesn’t and won’t mean much if that money is not targeted—if we can’t convince advertisers and cable and satellite operators that the best way to reach us is through Black-owned, -controlled and -oriented media.

I remember when a Black Family Channel was Robert Johnson’s idea almost a decade ago. The BET founder said he got much love from the Congressional Black Caucus and the Movement crowd, but nada support from the cable industry. Willie Gary went ahead and did it anyway, but I see that the story ended the same—one of debits and credits.

Let’s hope against hope that it archives online the good things it did. That way, there will be dataspheric proof  it ever existed.

Okay, TV One, time to step up even stronger.

APRIL 28 UPDATE: Richard Prince mentions that the channel will move to the Internet. Good luck.

Four Years Later, CBS' "60 Minutes" Discovers The "Stop Snitching" Movement…….

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…………coincidentally enough, a week after airing a report on the I-Mess.

As usual, hiphop was blamed for Everything That Has Gone Wrong With Black People. Although at least there was some acknowledgement last night that money talks, and that the rappers are just doing their part to make it (for the white corporations).

Checking out tonight’s story, I heard no more than two sentences and one sound-bite about police-Black community relations. Not only was the shrift short, that history wasn’t even acknowledged by “60 Minutes”‘ Special Correspondent Anderson Cooper until two-thirds into the story—after the socio-racial pathology had already been established. Oooh-kay.

I’m not offering any excuses for anyone. It’s better to just provide info. So here’s a longer history.

APRIL 27th UPDATE: From EUR:

CAM’RON CLARIFIES  ’60 MINUTES’ COMMENTS: Rapper hires PR firm to deal with backlash following Sunday’s telecast

Rapper Cam’ron has drawn a barrage of criticism and outrage over comments he made during last Sunday’s “60 Minutes” segment on “snitching.”

During the show, the artist said that his street credibility, and ultimately album sales, would suffer if he were to ever cooperate with police in bringing criminals to justice.  He told correspondent Anderson Cooper that he wouldn’t even alert cops if he knew a serial killer had moved next door.

“I wouldn’t call and tell anybody on him—but I’d probably move … but I’m not going to call and be like, ‘The serial killer’s in 4E,'” Cam told Cooper.

According to Allhiphop.com, Cam’ron hired publicity firm 5W Public Relations to help deal with the backlash caused by his controversial comments on the news program. He told the Web site in a statement:  “In 2005, I was a victim of a violent crime. I was shot multiple times without provocation by two armed men who attempted to carjack my vehicle. Although I was a crime victim, I didn’t feel like I could cooperate with the police investigation.”

“Where I come from, once word gets out that you’ve cooperated with the police that only makes you a bigger target of criminal violence,” Cam’ron explained. “That is a dark reality in so many neighborhoods like mine across America. I’m not saying it’s right, but it’s reality. And it’s not unfounded. There’s a harsh reality around violence and criminal justice in our inner cities.”
     
Despite this reality, Cam’ron adds: “My experience in no way justifies what I said” on 60 Minutes. “Looking back now, I can see how those comments could be viewed as offensive, especially to those who have suffered their own personal tragedies or to those who put their lives on the line to protect our citizens from crime.
     
“Please understand that I was expressing my own personal frustration at my own personal circumstances. I in no way was intending to be malicious or harmful. I apologize deeply for this error in judgment.”