Upworthless

Upworthy

I hate Upworthy. I wish I could say that I only hate what Upworthy does, but that’s impossible, because there’s nothing to Upworthy apart from what it does. And what it does is manipulate. And that’s damaging.

First of all, I will say that it’s nice that there’s an outlet devoted to spotlighting positive things. (Hold tight to this sentence, because I’m going to more or less dismiss it later on.) But I do wish that that outlet wasn’t this outlet.

Upworthy is all over the place. People share links from it constantly, and I almost never have to look to see what site the links are from; the headlines give it away.

Look at the examples above. I didn’t pick and choose…those are three side by side articles spotlighted on the front page of Upworthy as I write this post. Are those distinguishable in any way from the presentation of spam advertisements you’ll see on any given website?

You know the ones I mean. “Insurance agents do not want you to know about this trick to lower your rates.” “Doctors are terrified that you will learn this secret to healthy weightloss.” Even, “Here’s how you can impress her…the way it matters most.”

They’re evocative statements just this side of comprehensible, and they say precisely nothing while promising a whole lot of everything. It’s what online marketers call “clickbait.” It’s what you probably know as “bullshit.”

It’s not the content that matters. Contrary to Upworthy’s ostensible mission, the site doesn’t care about giving you anything worth reading or seeing…it only cares about getting you to click. The fact that it spotlights positivity in a traditionally negative world is just set dressing…the equivalent of a car dealership hanging up a banner that says “Eco-Friendly.” It’s a way to get people to think that something is different here — and positively so — when, really, there’s no difference at all.

Again, take a look at three other features on the main page. (Full disclosure: I did swap out one story for another…not because the actual image in its place didn’t demonstrate my point — it did — but it used an individual’s pain and suffering to do so, and I did not feel comfortable perpetuating that.)

Upworthy

There’s no difference between this and worthless spam marketing. Any product or service worth purchasing won’t have to hide behind vague incentives to click through; if it was something worth having, they’d tell you what it was up front. Upworthy doesn’t tell you what it is up front. It’s always “This ______ will blow your mind.” “You won’t believe what ________ said.” “This is a video you need to see.”

None of it means anything. Perhaps that fact would blow my mind. Perhaps I wouldn’t believe what _______ said. Perhaps that would indeed be a video I’d enjoy. But I’m not going to click it. Why? Because you’re not asking me to click it…you’re trying to trick me into clicking it. And that’s precisely what people do when they’re hiding something.

Look at the actual examples. In the middle article of the second row, what would be wrong with revealing the topic? Let’s assume it’s something relatively mild, like divorce. If they made that clear, people interested in reading some commentary about this poem on divorce would click it. Granted, fewer people would click it, but that’s because the folks who don’t will know ahead of time that it’s not an article that interests them.

Respectable media gives its audience credit, and letting them decide what they’d like to view or read for themselves is a very obvious form of credit. Upworthy does not give you — yes, you — any credit. It believes you need to be misled and tantalized into finding things you’ll enjoy. And that is, as you know it, bullshit.

I understand the mentality here. Sesame Street was conceived with a similar mindset: advertisements are flashy and funny and engaging, and they work particularly well on children…so why not use the language of advertising to sell them the alphabet?

It worked there. It still works there. I have no problem with that there. So why do I have a problem with someone using the language of advertising to sell “good news” to people?

For a few reasons. For starters, it is a respectable goal to direct children to the things that will enrich them and prepare them for life. The alphabet, basic math, vocabulary words, lessons on sharing…these are the things Sesame Street “sells,” and it sells these things because they’re not the sorts of things children would seek out — or be given — on their own.

Upworthy doesn’t have that same excuse. It isn’t “selling” anything of value…it’s farming your clicks. As evidence of that, ask yourself how much original content Upworthy produces. The answer is zero. It produces no original content. Whereas something like Sesame Street embraces the positive aspects and artistry of advertising, Upworthy embraces the laziest, the most manipulative, and the worst. It’s begging you to click, but if you do, all you’ll find is the work somebody else did elsewhere. In short, they’re stealing clicks from the people who actually did these positive things that Upworthy claims to be celebrating.

They’re profiting off of the work of others. And while they do typically cite their sources, that doesn’t do much good, because Upworthy is reproducing the content wholesale. There’s a link to the original source, but why would you click it? It’s all right here. Far from offering incentive to visit the site in question, they’re collecting all of the incentive and depositing it here, on their own site. Upworthy’s saved you the hassle of actually having to visit the person, place or thing that’s supposedly so inspiring. How nice of them.

It’s no different from a hypothetical site that would crawl the internet for other people’s art and host it locally without permission. Yet when something like that occurs, we get a better sense of the unfairness. We know it’s wrong to download somebody else’s art and upload it ourselves without permission. There’s no question…and if we came upon a website that did nothing but that, we probably wouldn’t bother coming back. It would be obvious junk.

Upworthy, however, seems content to hide behind the “news” side of things. And, to be honest, news organizations do often share sources, and sometimes entire pieces. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this…the AP exists for a reason, after all. But if The New York Times were to copy and paste an editorial wholesale from The Economist without permission, there’d be a rightful shitstorm brewed up.

Upworthy does this all the time, except that they’re swiping content from smaller outlets, and oftentimes independent bloggers and vloggers. There’s no shitstorm, because the audiences are smaller and the stories scroll off the page fast enough that there’s not much time to take action. By the time they get around to responding to your request for removal — if they do — the damage is done. You did, wrote or said something that deserved a larger audience, and Upworthy stole that audience from you. Maybe they’ll take the link down, but by that point the moment has passed, and it’s scrolled down far enough that people stopped seeing it anyway.

That’s…not a particularly “positive” atmosphere, is it?

There’s also the fact that Upworthy’s snatch-n-grab approach results in things getting spotlighted before there’s been anywhere near enough time to determine if it was up-worthy. Take, for instance, this homeless veteran makeover malarkey. Upworthy loved it and pimped it everywhere. Which was great, because poor Jim Wolf’s life fell apart immediately following this session, when he went back to drinking, was arrested, and remained homeless and alone, and nobody had to worry about that because they were still being inspired by this manipulative video full of lies.

If Upworthy wants to use its status as a “news curator” in any respectable way, it needs to issue retractions the way anyone else would. If a website reported the death of some public figure that was later revealed to not be dead, they’d retract it. Of course they would; there’d be no discussion about it. How could there be a discussion about it? Even if that website hadn’t written the original piece, it would be clear that they need to retract what was said. After all, they reported on one thing and then found out the truth was something different.

Upworthy wants to be the positive alternative to general news curation, but it doesn’t issue retractions when the positive content it swipes from elsewhere turns out to be bunk.

Why not? Easy. They don’t care. They only want you to click.

Upworthy’s a poison. It manipulates readers, tricks visitors, and robs from the smaller outlets that are actually doing the work, all in favor of turning a greater profit from the increased traffic. It doesn’t do any good, and it contains literally nothing that can’t be found elsewhere.

Oh, but it does take the time to spotlight the positive news stories in such a negative world. Right? Isn’t it nice to have a news outlet or curation service that bothers to report on positive things?

Sure. It is. And we’ve had it all along. I’m not sure I’ve ever sat through a news broadcast that didn’t feature uplifting personal interest stories or reports on some seasonal puppy parade or something. The myth of disproportionately negative reporting is exactly that; it’s a myth. We tend to remember and focus on the negative stuff because that’s what sticks with us by nature. If a woman is murdered in a local park, we’ll remember the story about that, even if the same amount of ink, or more, was given over to the winner of a chili cookoff.

Yes, professional news outlets do report on positive things. What’s more, they actually check their sources, and are held accountable for what they get wrong.

On top of all of that…this is the internet. You can find anything you want. If you want uplifting stories they’re never more than a single Google search away. You can find them. There are good people everywhere, and you can seek them out in a way previous generations could not.

You don’t need Upworthy to do it for you. And you definitely don’t need them to profit off of treating you like an idiot while they do.

Upworthy is greed. It might be greed with a smile, but in the end it’s still greed. Start circulating the positive stories from the sources that actually produce them, instead of contributing to the profit margins of a company that swipes them. That would truly be upworthy.

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EDIT: I MEAN JUST LOOK AT THIS SHIT COME ON
Upworthy

A Little Help For My Friends

The Interactive Canvas

Whew! I wanted to have a few new things ready to post this weekend, but that didn’t happen. For good reasons, though. It was a pretty awesome weekend.

However there were two things I wanted to draw attention toward. In one case, it’s a friend trying to raise money for what looks to be a pretty cool passion project of his. In another case it’s not quite as happy a story. Of course, if you decide to help either, or both, or none, that’s entirely your choice. I’m not going to tell anyone to donate to anything, but if you find it in your heart to do so, I can promise you that these are two very deserving people who would appreciate it more than you realize.

One Friend: Friend of the website and webmaster of Digitally Downloaded, Matt Sainsbury has set up a Kickstarter. He’s unhappy with the current state of games criticism, and hopes to rectify this in some small way with a nice, insightful, authoritative text that treats the medium with the artistic respect that it deserves. I haven’t seen any of the material that will be included in this book, but I’d be genuinely surprised if it was not worth reading; check out the link to get a sense of just how much great stuff is going to end up in here.

Another Friend: Noiseless Chatter regulars will no doubt recognize the name Sarah Portland. She’s more than a welcome presence here…she’s an excellent human being and a very talented artist. However, some sad news: her cat passed away this past Thursday. That’s unfortunate enough on its own, but Sarah is also faced with a large bill that she’s having trouble paying off. She had to pay over $2,000 for surgery last month, and now she needs another $400 to pay for the necropsy and cremation.

If you would like to donate, please do so directly to the vet: Tigard Animal Hospital, (503) 684-3133. Mention that it is for a kitty cat named Spock.

I know things are hard out there. I know funds are limited across the board. But these are two people who have done a lot to shape the atmosphere of this site, especially lately, and I’m happy to help in any small way that I can.

Anyway, more to come, as always. And I just finished writing the review of ALF‘s clip show. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but it’s the best thing you’ll ever read so you might as well kill yourself right after.

ALF Reviews: “Mother and Child Reunion” (Season 1, Episode 13)

So, some bad news has been brought to my attention. It turns out that the episodes of ALF that are on Hulu — the ones I’ve been watching — are the syndication cuts. At first this disappointed me, but then it made sense: they’re using the same edits that were mastered for the DVD releases, which themselves used syndication cuts because the budget did not allow them to dig back and remaster the originals.

What does this mean? Well, in syndication episodes typically run shorter, in order to make room for more commercials. In the pre-DVD age, this was extremely annoying. I remember catching syndicated episodes of The Simpsons that cut out my favorite scenes and jokes. In addition, the folks responsible for editing a show for syndication may or may not pay any attention to the story, and are simply cutting things to get it as short as it needs to be. In the case of shows like The Simpsons this can be problematic, because while you probably could cut the classic episodes down a bit and still leave the larger experience of watching them intact, hacking away a few seconds here and a few seconds there more or less at random makes for a pretty disappointing at-home experience, since so much of what gave the episode its “flavor” can be lost.

With ALF I can’t say that I’m worried that the minute or two that was cut from each of these episodes would have elevated the show to tolerability, but I’m still pretty disappointed that I don’t get to watch and review the original edits, which may only exist at this point in the form of audience VHS recordings from their original airings.

Interestingly enough, the first episode I reviewed after learning about this is “Mother and Child Reunion,” which opens with evidence of something missing.

The very first moments of the episode see ALF holding one of those toy claws…remember those? You hold the handle and can squeeze a trigger to make the claw close. I don’t know what it was supposed to be for…you could theoretically reach things with it, but it wasn’t particularly strong and you’d probably just end up breaking something. Regardless, we never see what ALF intended to do with it.

There are ingredients everywhere and we find out from a line of dialogue that they were making pasta. It seemed a little strange that this all happened before the episode started…as in seconds before…and sure enough under the end credits we see a clip of this scene that’s longer than we see here. Syndication spares us, for better or for worse, from the Alien ‘N’ Tanner Pasta-Making Family Fun Night.

Anyway there’s somebody at the door, and it turns out to be Kate’s mother, who, impressively, is only about five or six years older than Kate. They shut the door on her and run around the living room like idiots trying to conceal ALF, while Kate Sr. waits outside patiently like the guy from the Alien Task Force in episode one.

I predict this episode will be brilliant.

ALF, "Mother and Child Reunion"

It’s actually not a bad setup. The appearance of Kate Sr. gives the show a chance to flesh out Kate’s character, as well as introduce another outside force to the group dynamic. Additionally, the fact that she’s staying with the family means that ALF’s primary complaint — his isolation — gets dialed up even further, as he’ll be restricted from even having full run of the house. Of course, now that I type that out I realize that that’s the exact conflict we had in “Strangers in the Night” and it sure as heck didn’t do anyone any good there.

Anyway, Kate Sr. exposits that she’s in town because she’s traveling with a friend to Hawaii, and they decided to stop in Los Angeles to see their daughters who, conveniently, both live in the same city. None of that explains why they wouldn’t have called first, but at least we now know, 13 episodes into the show, where the fucking thing is meant to be taking place.

Kate Sr. says she brought gifts, and ALF sticks his head through the window that connects to the kitchen and says, “GIFTS?!” Then Willie shouts, “NOOO!” and ALF ducks down and Willie has to pretend that he shouted, “NOOO!” for a reason other than the real reason he shouted, “NOOO!” and that’s the kind of episode this is going to be, I guess.

ALF, "Mother and Child Reunion"

Brian gets a scarf and Lynn gets a sweater, because Kate Sr. thinks it’s too cold in the house for them. Kate Jr. says the kids are fine and to fuck off if she doesn’t like it, but Brian hobbles between them and simulates sadness so the dueling Kates agree to a ceasefire.

The interesting thing is that throughout this scene and the previous one, Willie has been wearing a jacket indoors. I can’t quite give this show enough credit to assume it’s a background joke meant to silently suggest that Kate does keep the house too cold…but there you go. Willie is wearing a jacket.

Kate Sr. and Kate Original Recipe snipe passively back and forth for a while because this is a sitcom and that’s the only thing you can have visiting mothers do with their daughters.

Women, amirite??

ALF, "Mother and Child Reunion"

I’ve defended — and even praised — Paul Fusco’s puppeteering in the past, but there’s a joke here that fails to land due to his lousy performance. Kate Sr. leaves the room and ALF pops up through the kitchen window again. He asks if the fact that this woman is staying in the house will affect him in any way, and some very loose editing means we linger on him far too long after he asks the question, allowing everyone to guess the joke and undermining entirely what would have been a decent smash-cut.

That’s not Fusco’s fault though. What is Fusco’s fault is that when we do cut to ALF in the shed, shouting “Help!” into Willie’s ham radio, ALF’s just standing there with his mouth open. Fusco doesn’t sell the panic at all, and doesn’t even seem to be making any attempt to do so. It’s strange to me, as Fusco is typically very interested in “animating” ALF in ways that are nearly always the highlight of any given episode. Here he’s content to open the mouth and leave it at that.

It’s strange, and it’s disappointing. Fusco is far better than this, and he’s every bit as capable of selling ALF’s panic as much as Jim Henson* always sold Kermit’s. But instead of a puppet waving his arms around and shouting to the heavens, we have one standing behind a desk with his jaw hanging open. There’s no effort here whatsoever, which is odd because the puppetry is usually the only place I can find any effort.

Kate and Lynn come into the shed with dinner for ALF and tell him he needs to stay in there until Tuesday, when Kate Sr. leaves. Actually, they call it a garage…and I’m not sure if I confused myself at some point or if the characters really do alternate between calling this set a shed and a garage. If it’s the same thing, then does that mean this is what ALF crashed into in “Baby, You Can Drive My Car”? If so, why didn’t Willie give a crap about the ham radio against the wall that took him a solid decade to build and is the most important thing in his life except when it sometimes isn’t?

Anyway ALF doesn’t want to stay in the shed, Kate says tough titty, and Lynn is a terrible actress. Moving on.

ALF, "Mother and Child Reunion"

The very next scene is…Tuesday morning. Wow…so we really blew right past that whole conflict, didn’t we? Kate puts a meal on the table, ALF walks into the room with a protest sign, and the fake audience of nobody that actually exists goes wild.

They herd ALF back into the kitchen because Kate Sr. is taking a shit and she’s almost done, in fact might already be wiping at that very moment, and he needs to get the eff outta there, stat.

I like that any time ALF needs to have a character out of the room they put them on the toilet. Not having to worry about coming up with any other reasons for them to be occupied really frees up the writing staff for snack time.

Kate Sr. comes out of the bathroom drying her hands, which is a bit strange as I usually do that before I walk around the house dripping bathroom water everywhere, but the much more disturbing thing is that she comes out wearing an apron. Who the hell wears an apron into the bathroom? And then she’s going to wear it into the kitchen? That’s disgusting, lady.

ALF, "Mother and Child Reunion"

The phone rings and it’s Kate Sr.’s friend Estelle. They have an argument and Kate Sr. decides she’s not going to Hawaii after all and will just live with the Tanners forever and ever amen.

I’d like to take a moment here to point out that my constant referring to this character as Kate Sr. is more than just a hilarious joke that you really like…it’s because the episode never tells us who she is. Granted, she gets referred to as “mom” and “grandma,” both of which are accurate, but we don’t ever learn her name. Why not? We learn that her never-seen friend is named Estelle, and we have no reason to give a shit about that. So why don’t we learn Kate Sr.’s name?

It’s bizarre. This would also be a chance to find out what Kate’s maiden name is. Not that that’s crucial information or anything, but it’s a chance to do some character work, and make these people feel like people instead of stiff wind-up toys that recite pre-recorded sound-bites when you squeeze their bellies.

The problem isn’t that the writing staff isn’t telling me Kate’s maiden name…the problem is that the writing staff doesn’t know or care about anything like this, and therefore have no clue who their characters are. This particular example is a symptom rather than the problem, but even if you think I’m reading too deeply into this (since 1981!) the fact is that the show just introduced a new character without even caring what her name is, and that’s a pretty clear sign that something’s wrong.

ALF, "Mother and Child Reunion"

Willie and Kate talk in bed for a while about what to do with Kate Sr., and while they do ALF climbs up from underneath the bed to pitch his own two cents in.

I know I’m always making jokes and exaggerating the sexual deviance of ALF, but in this case I’m just going to report to you what happens here. Are you ready? There is no embellishment whatsoever. This is the episode‘s idea of a joke…not mine.

ALF reveals that it’s cold in the shed, so he’s been sleeping under their bed for the past few nights. Willie asks him if he was under there Sunday night, because that’s the one night out of the year that he allowed himself to fuck his wife. (Okay, that was the ONLY EMBELLISHMENT.) ALF says that yes, he was, but don’t worry…he didn’t hear anything.

That’s…gross. I actually feel sick just writing about it. It’s the sort of joke you could do with Roger, for instance, because within the context of American Dad! it actually fits. It doesn’t make it any less disgusting, but it is at least in line with the rest of the show’s comic sensibilities.

Here it’s completely out of line. This was a family sitcom, and we just had a joke about somebody hiding under a bed listening to two people fuck. What the hell was ALF teaching kids? This would be like stumbling across an old episode of Sesame Street where Cookie Monster hides in the closet and watches Gordon plow Maria. Jesus Christ.

It gets worse, too. After the conversation, ALF climbs back under the bed. Willie and Kate jump up and down on the mattress in order to crush him to death — if I have anything to say about it — and ALF thinks they’re having sex again, so he encouragingly shouts, “Go for it Willie!”

The audience of nobody loudly applauds Paul Fusco’s rapier wit.

ALF, "Mother and Child Reunion"

ALF sits alone in the dark kitchen, mumbling to himself somehow without moving his mouth, making this officially Fusco’s laziest episode ever. When he can’t even be bothered to operate the fucking mouth you know he’s given up.

There is some nice blocking here, though, as you can see Kate Sr. through the window, walking around the living room yawning before she comes to the kitchen. It makes things feel a little more “alive” than they would have if the scene started with her opening the door, and it’s nice that they’re using the window between the two rooms for something other than having ALF pop up and spout bullshit through it.

She sees ALF and is immediately worried and terrified, which is great, because that’s the opposite reaction the Tanners had to ALF in the pilot, and it’s nice to see that the writers realize that the basic reaction humans might have to meeting an alien wouldn’t be to invite it to move in.

Of course she’s not entirely exempt from stupidity, as she concludes that ALF must be something Willie made, because Willie is always making crazy things. For starters, how could Willie make a creature? Is he a mad scientist? ALF isn’t a robot…he’s flesh and blood. She even touches him to make sure. Does she really think a dipshit like Willie is able to synthesize life? That doesn’t make any sense at all.

Secondly, since when is Willie always making crazy things? We saw his mousetrap a few episodes ago, and that was indeed crazy, but more because it was a pile of shit and less because it convinced anyone that he was capable of creating living breathing aliens with his own two hands. I wish Willie was always making crazy things…that sounds like it would lead to some much better plots than we’ve been getting. Why can’t I watch an episode where Willie makes a battlebot that goes apeshit?

ALF, "Mother and Child Reunion"

The next morning ALF is throwing some cookware around in the kitchen for no reason. Kate Sr. comes in and realizes that the monster she saw last night wasn’t a dream, and then Willie and Kate Jr. enter from the laundry room because that’s the only other direction from which they can enter the scene, and not because there was any reason for them to be hiding in there.

Nobody is worried for long about the fact that someone now knows ALF lives in the house, and when he and Kate Sr. start to bicker it’s clear that she’s mainly concerned that ALF eats people food and gets to sit at the table…not that he’s a hitherto unknown species from a distant world.

It’s absurd. Imagine going over to your friend’s place for breakfast, and a unicorn comes into the kitchen and sits at the table. Is your main concern going to be that unicorns shouldn’t be eating in the house? Why is everybody on this show quietly psychotic?

ALF, "Mother and Child Reunion"

ALF issues an ultimatum: either Kate Sr. goes, or he goes. This doesn’t seem like a wise gambit for ALF, because if he goes, he’s fucked. If she goes, she’s pissed off with no reason not to turn him in, and he’s fucked. But the episode’s almost over and the writers don’t want Kate Sr. around next week any more than we do, so I guess he had no choice but to say this.

There’s a long, meandering stream of bullshit that ends with Kate Sr. and Kate Jr. mending fences and agreeing to be less intolerably bitchy to each other, which sounds nice but probably means nothing since there’s no chance of us ever seeing this woman again. Kate Sr. demonstrates her newfound decency by allowing Kate Jr. to make pancakes however the fuck she wants.

Damn, that’s good TV.

ALF, "Mother and Child Reunion"

There’s a little scene before the credits with Kate Sr. giving Brian a hat that’s too big for him. ALF makes a joke and does his obnoxious, “HA! Ha-haha!” laugh, slapping the arm of the couch as he does so. Then Kate Sr. reveals that she’s knit a muzzle for ALF as well, and she sticks it on his worthless face and does the laughing couch-slap thing herself, which I guess means they bonded, and I wish they both were dead.

This was an absolutely terrible episode, and yet I can’t hate it completely, because it put this in my head and it stayed there the entire time I spent writing this review. That’s the best I’ve ever felt after an episode of ALF, and for that, I doff my cap.

MELMAC FACTS: Melmac’s civilization was apparently “millions of years ahead” of Earth’s. And yet they still haven’t discovered comedy.

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* Reader / commenter / supervillain Sarah Portland has actually talked to me a bit about some of Henson’s specific techniques that she’s noticed Fusco employing, and while I was fascinated by it I’m not nearly as intelligent as she is, so I’ll leave it to her to explain in the comments below. Suffice it to say, Fusco’s good. So good she had to check to see if he ever worked with Henson’s crew in the past. He didn’t, but the fact that she had to check is one hell of a fine compliment.

1Q84a

1Q84

Something strange happens to me every so often: a piece of art starts following me around.

Not literally. Or probably not literally, anyway. But it feels like something’s calling my name…and the more I ignore it, the harder it tries to get my attention. One my most vivid memories of this happening was with the film Ghost World.

I was with some friends at the video store (remember those?) deciding what to rent (remember that?) and I saw the box. Something about it captured my attention. I couldn’t have explained it then and I still can’t explain it now. It was just two girls on a white background with a vague title. The back of the box didn’t make it sound any different than any other teenage misfit film, and the images from the movie didn’t help differentiate it either.

But, somehow, I realized — knew — that there was something here. I didn’t suggest renting it, because if my intuition proved wrong I would have felt pretty embarrassed. Later on I was in a different store with a different friend and saw it for sale. I asked if he’d ever seen it, and he looked at me like I was joking. “Why would I have seen that?” he asked.

Fair question.

But something was pulling at me. Telling me I needed to see that film. I don’t know what it was. But I went back and I rented it, and watched it alone. (That was a thematically appropriate context for what I was about to see.)

I loved it. I still love it. I don’t know that it would make my top 10…though it might. It would surely make my top 20. It was a deeper, richer, more profound film than most of what I had seen up to that point, and it was certainly deeper, richer and more profound than the box — which had been my only experience with it — suggested. So why was I so strongly compelled to watch it? How did it get its hooks in me? Something had called out from behind a wall…but what was it?

I relate this story because recently, last month actually, I had a similar experience with a three-volume novel. 1Q84 caught my eye because of its handsome packaging…it was a nice boxed-set, and the title made me think it was some kind of special edition of 1984, another one of my unrivaled favorites.

So I picked up the book and realized pretty quickly that it wasn’t that. The cover art (seen above) told me nothing. There was no description whatsoever on the box. It was sealed so I couldn’t flip through the pages and see whether or not it was the kind of writing I’d enjoy. It was just a title and an author I’d never heard of.

And yet…I kind of wanted it. Not enough to buy it on impulse, I guess. Or maybe I was just worried that I’d be dropping $35 on an extremely long unknown quantity. (Not an unreasonable fear.)

The next time I went to the book store, I saw it again. The same copy. I know, because there was only one. I took a photo of it and posted it to Facebook. I could have researched the novel online, but in case I ended up reading it at some point I didn’t want to risk spoiling something, so instead I just asked my friends if they’d read it.

Several of them had, but the consensus seemed to be that I should pick up a different Murakami book. This one was padded, not quite his best, not a good starting place, etc. I appreciated their input.

…but I wanted this book. Even though I still knew nothing about it, and the other books would be both shorter and cheaper. Every time I passed it, it would make eye contact. I woke up one morning and drove right to the book store to buy it and read it that day. Something had called out to me from behind a wall. I couldn’t tell you what.

And, again, it’s great. 1Q84 is a fantastic read. I finished the first volume a couple of nights ago, and maybe I’ll post when I finish each of the three. I’m about 390 pages into a tale that I couldn’t begin to explain. When I posted on Facebook that I was reading it, another friend asked me what it was about. I said, “Perspective?” I honestly didn’t know. I still don’t know. I think he thought my response was dickish, because he said, “Fine, I’ll Google it myself.”

I wasn’t being dickish. I really wasn’t. I have no idea what it’s about…but perspective seems like a decent guess. Granted, that’s more of a theme than a plot. But I don’t know what the plot is.

I could tell you things that happen…but I don’t think the things that happen are what’s important here. I think it’s the way in which they happen, and the reason that they happen. It’s literary fiction, after all. That’s the way this stuff works.

But, typically, there’s still a discernable narrative thrust. Maybe there will be here, as well. I am like one of the characters, staring into a very cloudy night waiting for the sky to clear so that I’ll finally be able to see what’s up there and get my bearings.

For now, though, I can find solace only in how the story is told, unaware of where it’s headed, or even where it begins. There’s an almost frightening warmth to the text, which describes some truly horrifying things in such a way that it feels like you’re listening to a gentle voice reading to you from beside the bed. Yes, it’s a translation…but it’s a warm, friendly, soft translation that doesn’t hit you with corners and jagged edges. The translation must be a piece of art in itself, because very rarely do I find myself wondering if something was lost in the transition between two languages. Instead I marvel at how much is still there.

The chapters alternate between two central characters: Aomame, a skilled but damaged assassin, and Tengo, a math teacher who harbors dreams of being a fictionist. Their stories do not directly overlap — at least they don’t directly overlap by the end of volume one — but similar imagery occurs. Characters hear the same song. Two little girls speak of the same mythical creatures. There’s a lot that happens on one side that informs our reading of the other, and which braces us for a danger that may not come, and which certainly won’t come in the way we expect it. Perspective.

Aomame befriends a police officer who does not know what she does for a living, and draws nearer her newest target: the powerful, cruel, unseen leader of a mysterious cult. Tengo befriends an emotionally distant young writer and re-writes her promising manuscript…which is published to great acclaim and the young writer’s unexplained disappearance.

These are the things that happen. And these are not the things that are important. If they were, I would be disappointed that almost 400 pages have passed and I couldn’t tell you much more than that. Instead, I’m 400 pages into an only vaguely familiar forest, and while it’s dark, and it’s frightening, and I’ve heard rumors of what lurks inside, I want to take my time. I want to remember it. I want to be challenged by it, and to challenge it in return.

1Q84 might not be Murakami’s best work. I wouldn’t know. But it’s a powerful piece of writing that manages to move as it repulses, and manages to be both direct and oblique. It rewards you for paying attention and it punishes you for caring.

It’s a gorgeous nightmare from which you don’t want to awake. And while I still don’t know what it is that calls out to me from behind walls, I hope I have the chance to thank it some day.

Reminder: The Lost Worlds of Power Deadline is Jan. 31! (Plus Site Updates…)

The Lost Worlds of Power

Friends, Hyrulians, Donkey Kong Countrymen…the deadline to get your Lost Worlds of Power submission in is fast approaching! You have until Friday the 31st, which is just under a month from now!

That might sound like bad news if you haven’t started writing yours, but don’t worry! The original Worlds of Power authors could have cranked out dozens of them in that time.

For the complete rules and guidlines for producing your deliberately awful literary adaptation of an NES game, refer to this post.

As of right now I’ve received a good number of submissions…and most of them are very strong contenders for inclusion. As of now I’m thinking we will select the best 10 for the anthology. That specific number is subject to change, but regardless, if you’d like to be considered (and I know you would!) be sure to email your submission to reed dot philipj at gmail dot com as soon as you can!

…and I shouldn’t be telling you this, but if you think you’d need another day or two to get your submission finished, well, shoot me an email and we’ll talk.

Anyway hurry! Your one and only shot at artistic immortality awaits!

Also, as you may have noticed, things look a little different around here. Here’s a list of what I done tinkered with…

– Simplified tagging system. Now only general categories and recurring features get tags. This still covers everything on the site, but it should make the tags more useful. (More specific searches can still be performed in the search bar at the top of the page.)

– Reduced the number of articles that pre-load on the main page from 10 to 5. This was done since I’ve been posting a lot of image-heavy stuff, and I want to be fair to folks on slow connections or on mobile devices.

– Updated lots of stuff on the backend that, in all honesty, should have been updated ages ago. This should help performance.

– Added Facebook widget to the sidebar so that social media luddites can still see what I’m posting there. You can also “like” the Facebook page there (and I’d appreciate it if you did!) without having the navigate to the page itself. COOL HUH.

These improvements came mainly from the feedback you provided me in my visitor’s survey last year. So…I’m not the fastest hen in the bunch, but I get there in the end. And please do let me know what other improvements you’d like to see. I’ll get to them. Eventually.