“White Man’s Burden” is the belated lesson of empathy taught by a substitute teacher with one message and 90 minutes of time to fill. Its most valuable lesson is that, having watched it, we are reminded that millions of people endure not just 90 minutes of condescension, oppression, and racism projected on a movie screen, but a lifetime of all three.
There is no reason to suffer through another holiday of musical clichés and battle-ax standards better heard by children. All it takes is a few clicks, and a few risks, to find yourself a new set of Christmas music standards.
If you have never watched “The Ascent of Man” or remember it from years ago but have not watched it since, watch it again.
Watching my daughter bob her head in time to the music, her fist pumping, I saw that she was in a moment all her own, along with others who followed the same band, all in moments of their own. It was a temporary collective, a bonding with strangers by the odd osmosis of music that grabs the young consciousness at almost every corner of being.
Once you get in the habit, you soon discover that 7 am simply will not do. The 8 am hour is the stuff of horror, and 9 am is for louts with the blood pressure of a year-old marshmallow. Only 5:30 or earlier will suffice, when the gray light of dawn verges on the cusp of its full spectrum.
The joy of this video is it makes our Thanksgiving food new again, even to Americans who know it year after year, every late November. If we cannot be grateful for something made new, how could we possibly be worthy of our own holiday?
To find what you sought was an object earned. There was no “file” piped through the internet.
Art Spiegelman, the force behind both Wacky Packages and the Pulitzer Prize-winning “Maus,” is that rare artist who knows great art may disregard the precision brush strokes of attempting “the masterpiece.”
“The Mercy Seat” is a five-minute tour of a death-row inmate’s dirge and final thoughts before death by electric chair pits an ancient Old Testament object against New Testament teachings, turns everyday objects into hallucinations, and laughs at the idea of knowing truth from falsehood, or justice from mercy, when faced with death.
Given several decades, money, and a certain angle on history perhaps planned cities can and do work on some level, and for certain people. The problem with politicians’ well-laid plans is that they rarely work for anyone but the well-off.
“Dawn of the Dead” turns life and death upside down. Life is a stress-soaked struggle to survive, while death is a lurching, subconscious walk through old, submerged impulses until you die again—by firearm, machete, or blunt force. And why do people refuse to die? Because they want to go shopping.
A painting cannot give us back days of fall lost. But if we gaze at a painting capable of imparting its own unique sensations, we can at least travel to a different place of mind, a consciousness that might move us forward or even shake us to action.