The Writers' Strike: Doomsday for TV?

For those outside of Hollywood and NYC, the Writers Guild Strike probably seems distant, irrelevant, and maybe a bit superfluous. But soon enough everyone will feel its effects—in the short term (lots of re-runs, sports, and reality TV this winter) and also in long term, systemic shifts in the broadcast media landscape.

To quickly summarize what the strike is all about: in a word, Internet. Last time the WGA went on strike in 1988 it was over home video residuals (i.e. how much per video sold or rented does the writer get?). The debate today is in part over DVD residuals (because writers now get only 8 cents per DVD sold), but in most opinions, the days of DVDs are numbered. Thus, the real focus of the debate between writers and studios is compensation for Internet content. For every streamed or downloaded show on a network website, writers get nothing. This is a problem for them, but the networks refuse to budge.

In one of my classes last week, Greg Daniels (creator/show-runner for The Office) spoke to us about the strike. Earlier in the day he had been on the picket lines with other Office staff, which you can see in this video (he’s the guy with glasses). Daniels told us that the strike was all about show content on the Internet, which networks maintain is solely promotional/marketing in purpose, even though—according to Daniels—the ads on the network websites are twice as valuable per 1000 views as anything on TV. But are the writers seeing any of this money? Not a dime.

For obvious (albeit risky) reasons, the networks and their studios are not conceding or negotiating anything. They recognize that the immense money to be made online is the future, and thus they’re taking a hard-line proprietary stance. If the belligerent posturing continues, the strike could last at least as long as the ’88 strike (5 months) or maybe even longer. All your favorite shows will be relegated to reruns, reality shows will enjoy a reluctant renaissance, and American Idol’s ratings will go higher into the stratosphere than ever before.

In the meantime, the writing talent in Hollywood will be jobless… In theory. But the longer the strike goes on, the more I think the good writers will go elsewhere with their material. Everyone is pretty much in agreement about the fact that T.V. is inevitably going to move online. So why should writers wait for the networks? In the all-access, narrowcast, niche Internet, who needs broadcast networks? Writers may as well circumvent the networks entirely: acquire private financing from a third party, produce the shows independently, market them virally, and exhibit them online.

Lest you think made-for-the-Internet shows are still a long way off, think again. Marshall Herskovitz and Edward Zwick (My So Called Life, thirtysomething) have a new show called quarterlife that premiered on MySpace on Sunday and will be shown in 36 webisode installments on www.quarterlife.com. The twentysomething ensemble drama is a fictionalized serial that supplements a larger social-networking site for aspiring artists and creative people in their twenties. Sound like a brave new world? That’s because it is.

Television as we used to know it—a place where shows appeared on certain days and times that we had to tune in to, tape, or miss—is disappearing before our eyes. With Tivo, iTunes, webisodes, and online streaming, we are no longer tied down to a day, time or medium through which we consume media. We determine how we consume an episode of a show. It’s a completely me-centric media experience.

I’m convinced that we are just a few years out from a massive change in our very definition of television.

Soon we will buy most of our TV shows like we do a magazine—either by subscribing for a year or picking it up ala carte. For $20 or $30 bucks we will be able to buy a season of our favorite shows and have access to download or view them exclusively online. And this money would go directly to the people making the show—with no network or distribution middlemen. Thus, if J.J. Abrams announced a new, spinoff Lost series to be shown online to subscribers only, he could feasibly finance it completely himself. It would require Abrams to convince loyal Lost viewers (about 15 million in the U.S. alone) to shell out $20 for a “season pass” to view or download a 20-episode season. This would equal $300 million income for Abrams—more than enough to cover the show’s 3-4M/episode budget. And this is without any mention of advertiser revenue, which in the old model of T.V. was the one and only income source.

Essentially I’m suggesting a new model of entertainment-delivery that is funded solely through mini-contributions from millions of viewers. But of course, this is not a new model at all! It’s called the movies! T.V. and cinema have been converging for decades now in style. Now they are taking that last step of convergence in business: on-demand, web-based, ala-carte everything.

Call me crazy, but this is the future. The Writers' Strike is just hurrying it all along.

Christianity 101: Exclusivity

I have had several conversations and encounters in recent months that have made me worried about the extent to which the world—including Christians—does not understand what Christianity really means. In June I attended a panel discussion on the film A Mighty Heart, which featured representatives from Christian, Jewish, and Muslim backgrounds. The major theme throughout the discussion was the increasingly popular sentiment of collective goodwill/hope: that all major religions—regardless of who is being worshipped—are chiefly about love and peace. We must stop viewing each other as different or wrong... just diverse paths to a similar end.

More recently (this weekend), I attended a screening of a new documentary produced by Morgan Spurlock (Super Size Me). The film, entitled What Would Jesus Buy?, uses the forms and traditions of Christianity to mount an argument against out-of-control consumerism, though it never really offers Christianity or Christ as an alternative or solution. The film (which I will write about in more depth soon) follows “Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping”—a performance art/activist group that looks like a gospel choir but makes no claims of believing in the gospel. Following the screening of the film, I interviewed Spurlock and asked him about how Christianity fits into the message of the film. He said that the film's theme reflects the true meaning of Christmas—the arrival of a man who would revolutionize the world and shake things up through his radical message of peace, love, and equality.

But Christians, as I pointed out to Spurlock, would argue that Christmas represents more than peace and goodwill and love. It represents the Answer to our dissatisfaction in the arrival of a person who becomes a savior. True satisfaction, the Christian argues, comes not simply from the message of Jesus Christ (which if it is only peace/love/equality is not unique to him), but through his person. The sacrificial death and resurrection of Jesus—and through that alone—provides our redemption and ultimate happiness. Spurlock (who was incredibly nice and easy to talk to) responded by saying that yes, happiness can be found in Jesus Christ, but also in Allah or Buddha or whoever it might be. All of us are essentially about the same business: which is to try to make a change in the world.

It seems that the Christianity being invoked in What Would Jesus Buy?—and which is cooperating ecumenically for social justice and political causes (a good thing)—is increasingly being stripped of its claims of exclusivity. It is pretty clear in the scriptures that Jesus Christ was not of the mind that his way was just “one of many.” Rather, he said “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). C.S. Lewis articulates the vital importance of Christ’s claims of exclusivity also in his famous “Lord, liar, or lunatic” reasoning in Mere Christianity:

A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic – on the level with a man who says he is a poached egg – or he would be the devil of hell. You must take your choice. Either this was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us.

In other words, Jesus Christ cannot merely be a teacher, or prophet, or rhetorical genius (all of which he is). His message of love/peace/equality is great, yes, but part of his message is also that “my way is the only way.” Thus, to accept him as a peace advocate or political revolutionary but reject his claims of divinity is to undermine his whole legacy and legitimacy.

Christians today are struggling with the exclusive nature of our faith. It’s the hardest thing for people to get past, for sure. We don’t want to come across as condemnatory of every other religion. We hate having to tell others that our faith necessarily excludes other faiths as valid alternatives. We want to work together with Jews, Muslims, Hindus, etc without judgment or tension. And we can.

It is possible to live and work amongst other faiths, because we do have some common ground and shared concerns for peace and justice and a better world. But ultimately we cannot equate ourselves, because the final solution, in Christianity’s view, is none other than Jesus Christ himself. Not just the general, social reform causes he championed, but Jesus Christ the man: God incarnate. He offers himself to all—no matter where you were born or what you have done—and in that way he is the most inclusive.

Mii, Myself, and My Online Identity

Recently I’ve been fascinated with the notion of the avatar—whether our Facebook picture or our IM Buddy icon or our actual videogame avatars. I’ve been playing on the Nintendo Wii and having way too much fun creating Miis… little cartoonish avatars that I can make from scratch and then play in games. But it’s a pretty interesting thing to consider on a deeper level—the attraction and increased ubiquity of avatars in a digital age.

In his essay, “Hyperidentities: Postmodern Identity Patterns in Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games,” Miroslaw Filiciak argues that “on the Internet … we have full control over our own image—other people see us in the way we want to be seen.”

My question is this: To what extent are these avatars or online identities really “identities,” insofar as we recognize them as being in some way “us”? Do we see them as extensions of ourselves, or substitutes, or “one of many” variant, circumstantial identities? Do we empathize with our avatar as a function of being its creator and controller? Or as a result of its being our digital likeness and online persona?

“Identity” as an idea is complicated enough, but “postmodern identity” is another ball game entirely. Filiciak attempts to grasp the postmodern identity in his essay, citing people like Jean Baudrillard (identity is the “label of existence”), Michel Foucault (“self” is only a temporary construct), and Zygmunt Bauman, “the leading sociologist of postmodernism,” who argues that the postmodern identity “is not quite definite, its final form is never reached, and it can be manipulated.” This latter notion seems to be the crux of the matter—the idea that identity in this networked world is not fixed but fluid, ever and often malleable in our multitudinous postmodern existence.

Filiciak cites social psychologist Kenneth Gergen, who writes about how we exist “in the state of continuous construction and deconstruction.” While this is not a new idea (psychologist Erving Goffman argued, in his 1959 classic, Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, that the presentation of self is a daily ongoing process of negotiation and information management, with the individual constantly trying to “perform” the image of themselves that they want others to see), it is nonetheless an idea which does seem ever more appropriate in this DIY, user-generated, “massively multiplayer” society.

The type of “self” we construct and deconstruct in everyday life, however, seems to me to be a subtly different thing than what we can and often do in videogame avatar creation. A primary attraction of avatar creation, I think, is that it allows us to create “selves” that are both our creation and our plaything, something that can be as near or far from us as we want. We can and often do construct “identities” that are far from who we are or would ever want to be in the “real” world. Why do we do this? Because we can. Where else can I create a detailed character—complete with eyes, nose, hair, lips, eyebrows, all proportioned to my curious heart’s content—who I not only have authored but can now control and “act as” in a simulated, interactive space?

I find it interesting that when I began to create my first Mii, my initial instinct was not to carefully craft a Mii in my image (I did do this later on, and found it rather boring), but rather to play around with the tools and manipulations at my disposal and create the weirdest looking, side-ponytail-wearing freak I could come up with. Given the opportunity to create any type of Mii, I had no inclination—and I never have, really—to create an avatar that is remotely like who I am (or who I think I am). Thus it strikes me as questionable whether avatars are primarily something that we are to empathize with, at least in the visual sense.

In a sense, my attraction to an avatar is not so much the ability to portray and empathize with a digital alternate to my self, as it is an empathy or affinity towards the ability to create and control this being. To create the avatar is—to me—the most enjoyable part of having one. Of all the things I’ve played on the Wii (sports, Mario Paper), Mii creating was definitely my favorite part. There is something very attractive to the idea of formulating a person from scratch—assembling features in bizarre and unnatural ways with no penalty for cruelty or ugliness. As Filiciak writes of the avatar creation of MMORPGs:

There is no need for strict diets, exhausting exercise programs, or cosmetic surgeries—a dozen or so mouse clicks is enough to adapt one’s ‘self’ to expectations. Thus, we have an opportunity to painlessly manipulate our identity, to create situations that we could never experience in the real world because of social, sex-, or race-related restrictions.

Indeed, if we view avatars as a sort of extension of our identity, then here is one case in which we truly can be anything we want to be.

We can also do anything we want to do, or at least things that are taboo or unthinkable in our real lives (play Grand Theft Auto for a good example of this). Here again we see that our empathy with the avatar occurs not just in what the avatar is, but perhaps more in what the avatar does, or is able to do at our command. Filiciak believes the freedom we have with the avatar “minimizes the control that social institutions wield over human beings,” and results not in chaos but liberation: “avatars are not an escape from our ‘self,’ they are, rather a longed-for chance of expressing ourselves beyond physical limitations … a postmodern dream being materialized.”

It’s an interesting notion, to be sure: the vaguely Freudian idea that who we really are (our true identity) can be realized only when the many limitations of everyday life are removed (as in a game). Gonzalo Frasco, in his essay “Simulation versus Narrative,” makes a similar point about how videogames allow for a place where “change is possible”—a form of entertainment providing “a subversive way of contesting the inalterability of our lives.”

I think that the ability to transgress the limitations and inalterability of our real lives is an especially important attraction of the avatar. But within this ability of the avatar (to be and do things that are beyond the scope of our real lives), I think, lies the very limitations of our identification with it. It seems that what draws us to the avatar is the very thing which ultimately alienates us from it. If true empathy is possible with the user and his avatar, he must first get past the fact that this digital incarnation of “self” can do (and is really meant to be) substantively different than we are—unbound by the many limitations (physical, emotional, cultural, etc) which mark our existence.

The pleasure we derive from our relation to an avatar, then, seems to be less about empathy or identification than creative control and interactivity. With my Mii creations, for example, my enjoyment came from the ability to create in any way I wanted—to play God in some small way. There was little in the Miis that I could relate to my own identity; little I could really empathize with. But I still enjoyed creating, changing, and controlling them. This reflects a tension that is, in my mind, central to the videogame experience. It is the tension between the “anything is possible” freedom of virtual worlds and the user’s desire for empathy. The former may produce the higher levels of fun and gameplay, but the latter is a fundamental human longing. And I believe the two are negatively correlated: as “anything is possible” increases, the opportunity for empathy decreases, simply because limitation—as opposed to unbounded freedom—is what we know. It’s our human frame of reference.

Halloween Special: The Ten Creepiest Films

In honor of Halloween, everyone seems to make a list like this. As someone who never passes up a chance to compile a top ten list, of course I had to join in the fun! But rather than a top ten horror film list, I thought I’d broaden it to include films of other genres. Thus, my collection is of the creepiest or most insidiously disturbing films: less about blood and slashers than heart-pounding shock and awe.

10) The Last Wave (1977): The horror of this film comes not from blood or violence or other conventional thrills. Rather, Peter Weir’s feverish aboriginal nightmare of an Australian apocalypse provides psychotropic ambience of the most unsettling kind.

9) Freaks (1932): The creepiest thing about this film is its exploitative use of real dwarfs, midgets, Siamese twins, and other circus freaks… And when the maligned freaks get angry and rebel against the “normals,” watch out…

8) Three Women (1977): Though it’s not a typical horror film (some might even call it a comedy), Robert Altman’s serenely pagan study of identity is remarkably ballsy and deeply disturbing. Sissy Spacek is even creepier here than she is in Carrie.

7) Lost Highway (1997): David Lynch makes sick movies. He’s a twisted, tortured soul. Lost Highway is particularly creepy, however, mainly because of the image of Robert Blake’s ghost-white, alarmingly devilish face.

6) The Hitcher (1986): I haven’t seen the recent remake, but the 1986 original is a heartpounding thrill a minute. C. Thomas Howell plays a teen stalked by a madmen on the highways of the American West… a conventional setup that devolves into uncharted territories of nihilistic despair.

5) The Wicker Man (1973): This British film (not to be confused with the horrible Nicolas Cage remake) about a secluded island in Scotland populated by happy-go-lucky occultists (who like to sing cheerful songs while sacrificing goats) inspired parodies like Hot Fuzz, but it remains one of the most disturbing, shocking films of the 1970s. The last five minutes are unimaginably f*#$%d up.

4) Night of the Living Dead (1968): George Romero’s groundbreaking horror classic terrified audiences back in the already-tense late 60s, and it terrifies even today. The low-budget, black-and-white, “band of survivors in a farmhouse” setup turns into an unrelenting Cold War zombie hysteria by the end.

3) The Exorcist (1973): Demon movies are inherently disturbing, and this one takes the cake. The unrepentantly earnest realism of the film is its most frightening quality, as are the flash-frame images of indescribably scary demon faces (I dare you to pause it on those images!). The subliminal spiritual warfare of this film is intensely terrifying.

2) The Silence of the Lambs (1991): In addition to the indelible horror that is Hannibal Lecter, this film features the most thrilling climax of any film I can think of. The “blackout” moment near the end is quiet nearly unbearable to watch.

1) The Shining (1980): When I first saw this film for the first time, it was quite simply one of the most scarring moments of my young life. But the months of nightmares are worth it in retrospect, as Stanley Kubrick’s film (from a book by Stephen King) remains one of the most compelling, complex, skin-tingling thrillers of all time.

Next Ten: Pyscho, Carrie, Halloween, The Sixth Sense, Rosemary’s Baby, Zodiac, Scream, The Others, The Birds, Alien.

Best “Christian” Albums of all Time

Yes, it is ridiculous that there is such a thing as “Christian music.” I am totally of the mind that the contemporary Christian music industry is something that never should have existed, and that most of its output has, in fact, been utterly forgettable. That said, however, I must admit that not ALL of so-called “Christian” music (and in my definition, it’s basically any music made with Christian spirituality in mind or in heart) is horrific bilge. Some of it is good, and some even great. I suppose that in any largely-crappy genre of anything, there are some standouts. In this case, I think that the following ten albums more than hold their own in the company of any other “best-of” list, secular or otherwise. So, without further ado, here’s my list of the best “Christian” albums of all time (and when I say “all time,” I mean anything after 1990… which is when I started buying albums):

U2, The Joshua Tree (1987): It might seem cheap and superficially obligatory to include this album on a list like this (b/c U2 has never and will never call themselves a “Christian” band), but there’s no denying: this album is the one of the most glisteningly spiritual creations in pop music history.

Sufjan Stevens, Seven Swans (2004): Again, not a traditionally CCM artist, but Sufjan Stevens can’t be left off of this list. I’m convinced that history will look back on Sufjan as a turning point in the musical trajectory of “spiritual” music. Perhaps now Christians who are into good music won’t feel ashamed if they care more about being true and artistic rather than obvious and didactic.

Jars of Clay, Much Afraid (1997): Some might claim that Jars of Clay’s debut album (with that happily earthy feel) is their finest work. However, I’ve always contended that Much Afraid is their masterpiece. Subtle, subdued, and sonically rich (with gorgeously lingering songs like “Frail”), this sophomore album from a seminal CCM band is truly worthy of accolades.

Pedro the Lion, It’s Hard to Find a Friend (1998): When David Bazan (aka Pedro the Lion) emerged from the Seattle indie/emo scene in the late 90s, he was like the Christian version of Kurt Cobain (tortured, passionate, dark) with the mellow style of Eddie Vedder. His first full-length album remains his best, with quietly tragic (and catchy) tunes like “Big Trucks” and “When They Really Get to Know You They Will Run.”

Over the Rhine, Ohio (2003): This could be my favorite album of all time. Certainly it’s the best album ever to come from blatantly Christian artists. The folky double-disc masterpiece from Cincinnati’s best kept secret is nothing short of magnificent, with its backwoods mystery and latter days prophetic gravitas (“Changes Come”). There are about six songs from this album that should be sung in churches every Sunday.

Sixpence None the Richer, Sixpence None the Richer (1998): Though the uber-catchy “Kiss Me” got all the press, the rest of this album is equally marvelous. Leigh Nash—the queen of CCM’s “indie” sound—gave beautiful form to Matt Slocum’s well-crafted classics on this album, which remains a rainyday staple and a major step into mainstream success for CCM.

Caedmon’s Call, Caedmon’s Call (1997): This is an album of the “college folk” movement in the late 90s in which “earthy” bands with world music leanings became “alternatives” for the over-18 set. Caedmon’s Call filled the Christian niche nicely with this album, which—among other things—launched the solo career of Derek Webb, who would later become the Martin Luther of CCM.

Waterdeep, Everyone’s Beautiful (1999): Even more grassroots and folky than their contemporaries Caedmon’s Call, the Kansas City-based Waterdeep became something of a legend among Christian hipsters for a few years in the late 90s/early 00s. Everyone’s Beautiful is their most diverse, satisfying album, though their live shows are still this band’s strongest suit.

DC Talk, Jesus Freak (1995): Though it can’t be denied that this album is a two-year delayed derivative of the grunge craze, it also can’t be denied that Jesus Freak is a super catchy, well-crafted effort from CCM’s favorite boy band. Give the trio credit: they went from rap outfit to rock band in seamless fashion, reinventing the Christian music industry (and giving it license to rock!) along the way.

Switchfoot, New Way to be Human (1999): Though this San Diego surfer band has since fallen victim to “crossover” MTV irrelevance, their older stuff is actually quite good. I especially like this album for its beautiful ballads (“Sooner or Later,” “Let That Be Enough,” and “Only Hope”) which appeared all over teen media (Dawson’s Creek, Party of Five, A Walk to Remember) in the late 90s.

Honorable mention: Burlap to Cashmere, Anybody Out There? (1998), The Innocence Mission, Christ is My Hope (2000), Eisley, Room Noises (2005), Danielson, Ships (2006), Half-handed Cloud, Halos and Lassoes (2006), Rich Mullins, Songs (1996), Vigilantes of Love, Audible Sigh (1999), Damien Jurado, Rehearsals for Departure (1999), Relient K, The Anatomy of Tongue in Cheek (2001), Audio Adrenaline, Bloom (1996).

The Commodification of Experience

In Wes Anderson’s new film, The Darjeeling Limited, three brothers from an aristocratic family meet in India to go on a “spiritual journey.” Loaded down with designer luggage, laminated trip itineraries, and a hired staffer (“Brendan”) with an albino disease, the dysfunctional trio embarks on a train ride through the richly spiritual terrain of India.

It is clear from the outset that the brothers—or at least Francis (Owen Wilson)—are here to experience something: something deep, profound, and hopefully life changing. And they are oh-so methodical about maximizing the “spirituality” of it all. Francis stuffs every spare moment of their schedule with a temple visit or some sort of feather prayer ritual. It might be odd and a little offensive that these three rich white guys—decked out in fitted flannel suits by Marc Jacobs—are prancing around such squalor, making light (by juxtaposition) of the decidedly exotic culture that surrounds them… But this is what makes the film funny. It’s a comedy.

But it also rings very true. These guys are swimming in things (designer sunglasses, clothes, trinkets, keychains, etc), but what they really want is to feel. And because acquiring commodities is in their DNA, they assume that these types of immaterial experiences can be collected too. Thus, their exotic pilgrimage to India.

The film made me think a lot about my own life, and how I increasingly feel drawn to experiences rather than things. It’s all about seeking those magic moments—whether on a vacation abroad or on a sunset walk on the beach—when we feel something more. And of course, it helps to have an appropriate song pumping through your iPod to fit whatever mood or genre of life you are living at that moment. In Darjeeling, the “iPod as soundtrack to a nicely enacted existential episode” is given new meaning.

In his book The Age of Access, Jeremy Rifkin applies this all very neatly to economic theory, pointing out that our post-industrial society is moving away from the physical production of material goods to the harnessing of lived experience as a primary economic value. For Rifkin, the challenge facing capitalism is that there is nothing left to buy, so consumers are “casting about for new lived experiences, just as their bourgeois parents and grandparents were continually in search of making new acquisitions.” Rifkin believes that the “new self” is less concerned with having “good character” or “personality” than in being a creative performer whose personal life is an unfolding drama built around accumulated episodes and experiences that fit into a larger narrative. Rifkin keenly articulates how this user orientation toward theatricalized existence creates a new economic frontier:

There are millions of personal dramas that need to be scripted and acted out. Each represents a lifelong market with vast commercial potential… For the thespian men and women of the new era, purchasing continuous access to the scripts, stages, other actors, and audiences provided by the commercial sphere will be critical to the nourishing of their multiple personas.

And so as we (the spoiled, affluent westerners among us, at least) become more and more dissatisfied with all the physical goods we’ve amassed, and begin to seek lived experiences and dramatic interaction as a new life pursuit, we must not delude ourselves that this is some higher goal, untainted by commercialism.

On the contrary, the economy is shifting to be ready for the “new selves” of this ever more de-physicalized era. The question is: are we prepared to allow our experiences to become commodities? Are we okay with the fact that our “to-buy” wishlists are now being replaced by “to do” lists, of equal or greater value to the marketplace? What happens when every moment of our lives becomes just another commodity—something we collect and amass to fill the showcase mantles of our memories?

Christian (Fill in the Blank)

Two summers ago, I heard Rick Warren speak at a conference. Pastor Warren (God bless him) uttered a line in his speech that gave me particular pause: “There is no such thing as Christian music, only Christian lyrics.” It’s a significant line in his theology, and it also appears throughout the Purpose-Driven book empire.

It’s a line that goes to the heart of the crisis in Christian identity.

Essentially, Warren is suggesting that something is made Christian when it is clearly labeled as such. Song lyrics (words) are easy to recognize as Christian: do they contain the words God, Jesus, praise? If so, wham! They’re Christian! Instrumental music cannot be “Christian,” in Warren’s view, because how could we ever tell what it is about? If the song itself doesn’t proclaim itself verbally as such, it is not Christian (even if its composer is Christian).

This way of thinking turns the essence of Christianity into a cheap adjective. Slap it onto anything, and voila! You have redeemed the regular and made it holy! But wait—isn’t Christianity more complicated than that?

Christians are way too slaphappy with the name “Christian.” We cavalierly attach it to the most trivial of things. Let’s consider just some of the “Christian” things that populate our culture: Christian bookstores, Christian music, movies, videogames, radio, magazines, publishing houses, Christian Youtube (“Godtube”), Christian MySpace (“MyPraize”), Christian clothes, shoes, socks, paintings, mousepads, cooking utensils, crockpots, you name it….

But what makes any of this “Christian”? What makes one crockpot more suitable for Christians than another? Do we really need “Christian” alternatives in cutlery?

Long ago, Christians decided that rather than trying to influence mass culture from within, they’d take the more passive route and define themselves as a “subculture.” One more subculture among many. There are many reasons why they did this: 1) it’s easier, 2) niche markets make more money faster, and 3) modernity gave rise to the combative, defensive posture of “us vs. them”—an attitude that has defined pop-Christianity ever since.

As a result, “Christian” seemed to become a word best defined by what it wasn’t (i.e. liberal, gay, postmodern, pro-choice, etc…). Somewhere in there we lost our sense of history and tradition and identity—we lost our idea of what “Christian” really means. And if we don’t know what it means, how will anyone else?

The problem is that our society has convinced us that “Christian” is merely an adjective—a descriptive word that usually connotes a conservative, prudish, bigoted fundamentalist diametrically opposed to everything fun under the sun.

But the truth is that “Christian” is much better fit as a noun, or even better—a verb. To be a Christian it to live in pursuit of Christ—to not be satisfied with who you are, but to strive for who you might be. It’s an action-oriented life; it’s a process.

We need to stop demeaning Christianity by treating it like a just another attribute. “Christian” is not like “red” or “tall.” It’s not just a word to describe. It’s a living, breathing way of being.

Why You Should Watch Commercials

Last week in my Network T.V. Management class at UCLA, our guest speaker was a high level executive at ABC Primetime. He spoke to us about the business side of broadcast television--how the audience of any given show is basically "sold" to the advertisers who then invest in a show for its guaranteed spectatorship. If a show is getting good ratings in the 18-49 demographic, for example, the network will then be able to charge more for the increasingly sought-after commercial ad space. As we all know (or should know), advertising via audience “labor” is the bread and butter of T.V. financing.

A massive spoiler appeared on the horizon a few years ago, however, and its name is DVR. Tivo and friends have altered the industry’s economic landscape in striking ways, and T.V. executives are scrambling to figure out what to do about it. The problem is that with DVR technology, people are able to fast-forward through commercials. And they do. I do. Advertisers notice this and are increasingly demanding that the networks do something about it. Consequently, ABC Primetime has taken the revolutionary step this fall season of being the first network to sell ad space based solely on commercial ratings.

In a nutshell, this striking shift means that ABC (and perhaps the other networks soon) will measure a show’s economic feasibility based only on who is watching the commercials—not the show itself. What does this mean for you? It means that if you use DVR to fast-forward through the commercials of your favorite show, you might as well not be watching (at least in the eyes of the networks, who are always looking for excuses to dump underperforming shows). This may be a bitter pill to swallow, but I'm afraid it is true: your favorite television shows are in danger if you do not watch their commercials.

More generally, however, this shift represents the frantic defensive maneuvers being undertaken by beleaguered media industries in the face of technology and changing audience patterns. Hollywood is trying to adapt its old framework to withstand the erosion that things like DVR, on-demand, video iPod and other technologies are causing. Their worst fear is to become the lame-duck recording industry, which is all but dead now because of its blatant refusal to work with and through new technologies.

It remains to be seen whether or not the ad-based network T.V. model will survive the digital age, and maybe it shouldn’t. Maybe we should be even more purposeful about fast-forwarding through commercials on our Tivos. Maybe we should send the message that the days of “commercial breaks” are over—that we will no longer tolerate being passive ratings demographics or dollar-sign statistics in the ugly ratings wars. Of course, we’d have to concede a trade-off in some way—most likely the acceptance of brand-integration and product placement within our favorite shows. After all, these shows need to be financed somehow.

All I know is that the future of television is completely up in the air (as are the futures of most other media industries), and we the audience will have an ever larger role to play. I have much more to say about it all, so stay tuned…

Am I Missing Something?

Evidently I'm the only film critic in America who isn't convinced that Lake of Fire--the new abortion documentary from Tony Kaye--is the hyper-balanced, exceedingly fair film it's been touted as. My 2 star review for Christianity Today is listed at Rottentomatoes.com as the only "rotten" rating, thereby bringing the film's total percent score down from 100% positive to 96%. This both thrills me (b/c this film does NOT deserve a perfect rating) but also worries me. What are the other critics missing? Or what am I missing?

Here's an excerpt from my review of Lake of Fire:

Coming in to the film, one expects (or at least hopes) that it will be a thoughtful consideration of the issues at stake in the ongoing abortion debate. Heaven knows we are desperate for a congenial sit-down in which all perspectives, arguments, and scientific evidence are presented and considered evenly—apart from personal attacks, cynicism and vitriol. But in this respect the film is a huge letdown—a wasted opportunity to truly consider the issue/act of abortion and its moral meaning.

Instead, we get a lopsided parade of talking heads in which well-mannered, intellectual liberals (Noam Chomsky, Alan Dershowitz, Peter Singer) represent the pro-choice viewpoint and firebrand country bumpkin fundamentalists represent the pro-life side. Defenders of the film might point out that the brunt of screen time goes to Christians and pro-lifers, which is true. But the majority of time devoted to the "pro-life" contingent centers upon the fringe extremists who picket and sometimes bomb abortion clinics, and occasionally assassinate abortion doctors. This is the face of the pro-life movement, as represented in Lake of Fire. (read more...)

It seems to me that this film represents the strangely paradoxical nature of representational politics in the media. On one hand, we are an extremely PC culture in which all races, orientations, minority groups, etc are supposed to be given a fair representation (either in film, or TV, or print media, etc). In my classes in graduate school, this is a HUGE emphasis: the ways in which we should critique media for uniformed, unfair, or otherwise skewed portrayals of minority groups.

An unwritten assumption for many such "progressives" in academia or media, however, is that Christians are NOT to be included in the "minority groups abused by the media" category. Perhaps it is because Christians are perceived to be part of the hegemonic "establishment": the WASP-dominated coalition that wields all the power and money and spits out hate and bigotry. Surely this group needs no advocacy when it comes to fair media portrayal. If anything Christian representations should be actively and visibly dismantled or lampooned in the media. Or so goes the unspoken rhetoric.

Does anyone else see the contradiction here? Why, in film after film, are Christians being portrayed so unfavorably? Sure, you can't say that the people in Jesus Camp or Lake of Fire weren't asking for it, but there are plenty of other more moderate Christians who could have been featured just as easily. Documentaries (and any media, really) are in the business of selection. They reveal their bias through the choices of what and who--given all the options--is highlighted or used to "stand in for" a larger group or phenomenon.

While we scramble to fill quotas and level the socio/economic/cultural playing fields through media literacy programs and multicultural initiatives, some groups are glaringly omitted out of spite. And while the call for universal tolerance rings ever more loudly, the intolerant squelching of certain voices (i.e. intelligent, albeit exclusivist Christians) continues unchecked. I'm not calling for some reverse Affirmative Action or anything, but I do think the illogical nature of it all deserves some careful scrutiny.

In Rainbows... And Pots of Gold

Radiohead is so much smarter than the recording industry. Well, pretty much anyone is smarter than the recording industry, but that's beside the point. Radiohead has always been a forward thinking band (OK Computer changed rock music, Kid A further expanded it, etc), but this week they have established themselves as perhaps the most influential band of the 21st century.  

By now, everyone in the world has heard of Radiohead's "pay what you want" stunt. If not, check it out (and participate!) here. It came as a surprise when they announced it via their website two weeks ago, but the sheer novelty and unexpectedness of it has made it all the more of a pop culture frenzy. The experimental move is sheer and utter genius.

Let me count the ways:  

1) Giving the album away via download has no distribution costs. Thus, any goodwill payment (and people have largely been paying SOMETHING, if only a pound or two) is nearly pure profit. No record label to siphon away profits, no physical goods to ship. It's a transaction directly between Radiohead and consumer, and early numbers show it's paying off... big time. Cutting out the middleman is the exchange of the future.  

2) There is one thing (and it's a BIG thing) that you have to do in order to download the album: you have to provide your personal information (name, address, email, phone number, etc). In today's world of target-marketing and audience-as-commodity, this data (which can be sold to advertisers for big bucks) is where the real value is.  

3) Radiohead has realized what the recording industry apparently has not: in a market that is increasingly overcrowded, the problem is not piracy, it’s obscurity. By becoming a “news story,” Radiohead has already won half the battle. As Don Tapscott and Anthony Williams write in their 2006 book, Wikinomics: "In today’s information-soaked environment … content creators need to find ways to permeate people’s consciousness. Giving away content and building loyal relationships are increasingly part of the arsenal creators use in the battle for people’s attention."  

4) Essentially what Radiohead has done here is build up an incredible buzz machine, all because of a three sentence message that showed up on their website a few weeks ago (it wasn't sent out to the world in a massive e-blast... it had to be sought out and spread virally). In the networked world we live in, linkage and bottom-up marketing is the generator of real value. It expands the sphere of an artist, allowing more and more people to be drawn into the Radiohead world--where they will eventually spend some money (either on concerts, an $80 special edition box set, or a physical copy of the CD) and reward the band for instilling a sense of trust.  

5) More than anything, the circumvention of the record companies is a move that establishes a rapport with an increasingly active audience--sick and tired of being attacked, harassed, and generally manipulated by corporations shoving crappy music down their throat. Kids are more savvy and want to be respected as an audience, not just treated as a Pavlovian mass that buys on impulse or command. They WILL get music for free, regardless of if it is legal, and when a band does it willingly (like Radiohead, but also others like Derek Webb), the fans respond positively, and word of mouth takes over.  

It remains to be seen if Radiohead's experiment will pay off in the long run, but I'm going to bet that it will. In a year's time--after all ancillary revenues, tour sales, etc are tallied--I expect that Radiohead will be swimming in money and accolades. And I bet there will be many more artists who follow suit.

The Brightest Light on T.V.

So this Friday night (10/5) at 8/7pm, do me a favor: turn your T.V. to NBC. You don't have to watch (though you should), and you don't even have to be home. But please have your televisions tuned to the show, Friday Night Lights. If not for me, do it for art, or at least the future of good T.V.

Season Two of Lights begins this Friday night, and hopefully (with your help) will not end until next May. I can't tell you how great this show is in less than 1000 words, but if you want to hear me go on and on about it, read my new article for Relevant magazine.

In the meantime, you don't have to take my word for it… take the word of almost every critic in America, who joins me in aching for this show to be more widely seen and appreciated. Here are just some of what others have had to say about Lights:

Tom Shales, Washington Post

“Extraordinary in just about every conceivable way—but especially in the quality of its cast… "Friday Night Lights" is great, heavy-duty, high-impact TV.”

Mary McNamara, Los Angeles Times

“With any luck, popular success will follow the critical, because pretty much everyone who sees "Friday Night Lights" falls hard. With its fuzzy lighting and slow-as-a-summer-night cadence, it's the antithesis of many of the slick hyper-dramas ruling the airways. It attempts to show life for folks who live without a freeway or a subway, complete with ugly violence and choked-back silence.”

Tim Goodman, San Francisco Chronicle

“Friday Night Lights is not good. It's great… If viewers get over their preconceived notions about what they think this series is about and actually give it a shot, they'll be as stunned as everyone else.”

Adam Buckman, New York Post

“The best live-action show about contemporary life in America that is currently on the air.”

Robert Bianco, USA Today

“Lights has a rare ability to portray life in small-town America without being condescending or sentimental.”

Bill Simmons, ESPN

“It's the greatest sports-related show ever made… Every nuance is nailed, every hug seems genuine, every fight makes sense, every sarcastic barb and flustered reaction ring true. If there are better TV actors than Kyle Chandler (Coach) and Connie Britton (Mrs. Coach), I haven't TiVoed them.”

Matt Roush, TV Guide

“Friday Night Lights moves me like no other show. It reminds me of where I came from and of what it truly means to keep one’s eye on the ball. And yet, as wrenching as the show can be, it’s also terrifically entertaining, with plenty of dry wit, edge-of-the-seat suspense, sexy romance and even the occasional laugh-out-loud moment.”

Maureen Ryan, Chicago Tribune

“I not only think it's the best show on network television, I also think it’s as good as The Wire… This extraordinary drama lets us peek inside the lives and the minds of people who aren’t any different than we are, who are struggling with the mundane and major problems of real life. And it’s done with such subtlety, surprising wit and grace, that at the end of every hour, I devoutly wish it wasn’t over.”

American Film Institute—Television show of the year (2006):

“FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS is a celebration of America - its hopes and dreams, its heart and its heartland. Rare is the show that presents family and faith in such an authentic way - rich with emotion and illuminated by the pulse-quickening thrill of football. Peter Berg's small town tale is one with community at its core, but universal in scope - the struggle of winning and losing, the drive to reach for more and the challenge of seeing a future beyond the glare of Friday night's lights.”

Peabody Award (2006):

“No dramatic series, broadcast or cable, is more grounded in contemporary American reality than this clear eyed serial about the hopes, dreams, livelihoods and egos intertwined with the fate of high-school football in a Texas town.”

Television Critics Association: Friday Night Lights won “Outstanding New Program” in 2007.

Notes on Japan

Last week I returned from a fantastic 11 day adventure in Japan--a country I had not previously been to and which I can now say is the most unique nation I've ever visited. In some ways Japan is like the U.S. or other hyper-developed nations (i.e. very modern, very tech-happy, very indulgent), but in other ways it is very, very different. My mind is full of interesting observations and tales of cross-cultural confusion from my trip, but rather than re-hash our itinerary (which was rigorous, to say the least), I'll just randomly pontificate about some of the things I found most interesting.

I. Japanese Hipsters If you've read my blog over the past few weeks, you know how fascinated I am with hipster culture. Thus, a trip to Japan was a dream come true for hipster-watching. If you ever go to Tokyo, a must-stop area is Harajuku (immortalized in the Gwen Stefani song, "Harajuku Girls"). Here, on a bridge near the train station, is the mecca for underground fringe fashion that might be described as anime-infused Mary Poppins-meets-Marilyn Manson milkmaid couture (see pictures). But these kids are more "freak" than hipster; it’s more like a Halloween party in Harajuku than it is a fashion show. Then who are the real hipsters? The answer, as I found out, is 90% of all Japanese kids age 15-25. What is "hip" in America now is the norm for all kids in Japan. The "emo" look is worn by even the most traditional-minded youths in this country. The ragged Kate Moss heroin look is even more ubiquitous. What has happened in this uber-prosperous nation is that "cool" has become the regular, the mundane, the mainstream. Walking down Takeshita street (the under-21 Melrose Avenue of Tokyo), pretty much every kid I passed was way cooler looking than anyone I know in the States. But they probably aren't REALLY that cool; and they probably wouldn't say they are any hipper than any other wealthy young Tokyo-ite. How could they be? They look just as hip as everyone else in Tokyo! It's just the way they dress. It's just the way it is. Cool is the new mainstream in Japan. Perhaps afashionable nerds will become the next superstars.

II. The Salaryman When I first got off the subway in Akihabara on my first night in Tokyo, the streets were swarming with black-suited, white-shirted clones with briefcases: better known as "salarymen." Tokyo, and most of the urban areas in Japan, is obsessed with work. I suspect this country relates more to the whole "live to work" motto as opposed to "work to live." Thousands of salarymen crowd the streets and subways after work (which they sometimes stay at until very, very late at night). They then "unwind" by putting money in Pachinko machines, or drinking the night away in some bar, or just smoking up a storm in some restaurant (you can smoke and drink ANYWHERE in Tokyo... there are beer and cigarette vending machines on every block). Some salarymen venture to the seedier streets to meet a "companion" for the night, or they just find a "love hotel" (which are ubiquitous in Japan). To finish the night, many go to public baths or "Onsen" (hot spring spas), or just take a soak in the tub back home. All the money they make is strictly controlled by their wife back home (the women handle all money transactions in Japan), who keeps a tight watch over her husband's gambling habit.

III. Have a nice day! Lest the above descriptions paint Japan in a negative light, I have to say that first among my impressions of this country is that the people are, by-and-large, the nicest people of any country I've ever been to. Whenever I had any inkling of a confused expression on my white face, it wasn't long before someone appeared out of the blue to ask if I needed help (you can set your watch by it... like most everything in Japan). And if you’re lucky enough to be invited in to a Japanese home for a meal (as I was on two separate occasions), you experience off-the-chart levels of hospitality. They throw unholy portions of food at you during meals, as well as dangerous amounts of sake and Suntory (whiskey), all the while practicing their English on you and looking intensely delighted by everything you say or do (“Oh rearry?” they say, even when they might not completely understand what you’re saying). The effect of the overwhelming displays of hospitality and kindness I experienced in Japan has left me truly embarrassed for my own failings in this area. How odd that I have to go halfway around the globe—to a nation where Christianity is almost as foreign as soap in bathrooms (yeah, they don’t use it)—to see a superior display of “Christian” virtues like charity, humility, and hospitality. If only for that, the trip was well worth it.

Holy Hedonism!

I was recently introduced to John Piper’s term, “Christian Hedonism,” which I believe he coined in the 1986 classic, Desiring God, but which I came across in reading his recent mini-book, The Dangerous Duty of Delight. It’s a pretty radical concept… and yet it struck me as wonderfully, profoundly true.

Webster defines hedonism as “the doctrine that pleasure or happiness is the sole or chief good in life.” We’ve always been taught the Christian life was exactly counter to this, right? So what is Christian hedonism?

According to Piper, Christian hedonism is the truth that "God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him." Therefore, if we are going to glorify God as we ought, the pursuit of joy is not optional—it is essential. We not only may, but ought to pursue our maximum pleasure—in God. The Westminster Shorter Catechism summarizes the "chief end of man" as "to glorify God and enjoy Him forever." Piper has suggested that this would be more correct as "to glorify God by enjoying Him forever."

Essentially the idea is that the Christian life is not joyful or happy or blessed as a result of our devotion and service and worship of God. Being joyful and happy and blessed is HOW we worship God. It’s not a byproduct of our faith. It is our faith.

Seeking happiness as a “reward” for being a Christian is not something we should be ashamed of—it is precisely the motivation we should be pursuing. Put off all notions of self-pity and self-sacrifice and guilt for feeling discontent or desiring more. Acknowledging the desires of our restless souls is vital to our pleasure in God.

Piper looks to Augustine and Jonathan Edwards as examples of “Christian hedonism,” but perhaps most often he turns to C.S. Lewis, who Piper thinks summarizes the radical (and radically true) concept best in The Weight of Glory:

If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and to earnestly hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I suggest that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling around with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

Here are some of the controversial implications of being wholly devoted to a holy hedonistic lifestyle:

• It is okay (and right) to do good deeds because it will bring you pleasure. Does that mean our motivation in giving money to the poor or bringing flowers to someone in a hospital should be our happiness first and foremost??? Yes. Piper says “The pursuit of pleasure is an essential motive for every good deed. If you aim to abandon the pursuit of full and lasting pleasure, you cannot love people or please God.”
• We should reject the well-intentioned philosophy that says “For the Christian, happiness is never a goal to be pursued. It is always the unexpected surprise of a life of service.” No, we must do the opposite. Happiness is our service.
• When we come to a worship at church, we should be there to get, not to give. We should hunger for the joy that God provides us in worship, not concerned with what we could possibly give to Him.
• We should not pursue the wealth and material pleasures of this world, but we should pursue the greater gains awaiting us in eternal life. In other words, doing things for a crown in heaven is not a bad motivation at all.
• We should deny ourselves for God’s sake, but not feel sad or self-pitied as a result. We are denying ourselves a lesser good for a greater good; we must not think of sacrifice in terms of self-pity, but in terms of the reward at the end (“whoever loses his life for My sake and the gospel’s will save it,” Mark 8:35). We should live under the credo of slain missionary Jim Elliot: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

Anyway, I’m sure this is already a familiar concept to most of you, and it’s pretty common sense when you think about it. But it seems like Christianity has been branded as a religion of legalism and self-denial and, well, no fun. Even from the pulpit we get messages that seem to argue for a worship of God that is all about what we can give to Him, or do to make Him happy, etc… How much more radical, then, is Piper’s notion that the chief aim in life should be OUR happiness and OUR pleasure in God? It’s extreme. But if Christianity is, after all, the one and true answer among all others, it should be extreme, right?

Types of Hipsters: Part Three

The final installment of my "12 Types of Hipsters" series:  

9) The Ex-pat Otherwise known as the jet-setting international kid or the hostel-hopping backpacker, the Ex-pat hipsters are those who can’t stay in one place for more than a year. They spend summers in Australia, winters in Chile, and spring breaks in Spain. Their passports are prized possessions, and full or exotic stamps. These hipsters are typically multi-lingual and well versed in international relations. They work hard and spend almost all of their money on traveling, though often they combine work and travel by getting jobs or internships abroad. They are frequently big on humanitarian causes, and often do stints in Africa or other Third World countries. They are wayfaring, Lost in Translation-type existentialists who lack any sense of “home.” Sidenote: this particular brand of hipster is disproportionately high in Christendom, what with the globetrotting, YWAM-esque missions sensibilities and all…

• Fashion: Backpacker/safari/European. Jeans, hiking boots, all-weather outerwear. L.L. Bean for the preppies in the lot. Thrifty cheapness (H&M) for the others.
• Music: All about transition and changing moods, and typically more international in scope than other hipsters. European folk, French ambient, etc… Air, Blur, Ray Lamontagne, The Frames, The Jesus and Mary Chain, M83.
• Movies: Never really in one place long enough to see a lot of movies—more about DVDs-on-laptop-while-riding-trains. Even so, they do have a soft spot for road movies and cinema that ponders things like time and impermanence. Favorite directors; Richard Linklater, Yasujiro Ozu, Sofia Coppola.
• Celebs of this kind; Ethan Hawke, Ewan McGregor, Chelsea Clinton, Angelina Jolie, Prince William.

10) The Activist Hipsterdom has long been tied to that most expressive rite of democratic passage: protest. In the 60s the cause was clear: the Vietnam War. In the 80s and especially the 90s, the causes became much more diverse and decentralized amid the explosive information age. Today, hipster activism is usually anti-war or anti-globalization, or otherwise economic in nature (fair trade, third-world debt, etc). Activist hipsters make their voice heard in many other social causes as well: urban poverty, education, civil rights, etc. They take pride in being “in solidarity” with the trampled-on and disadvantaged in life, and often live in the midst of them. Though not nearly as violent or lawless as their Vietnam-era forbears, these activists are certainly passionate and feisty, especially during elections, summits, or large political gatherings.

• Fashion: Che Guevera chic (formerly turtleneck-and-beret mod chic). Sometimes militaristic, lots of army-surplus, t-shirts with hand-written messages or pictures, etc… Varies a lot though, as Activist hipsters come from a wide range of socio-economic backgrounds.
• Music: Political-minded rock vis-à-vis Rage Against the Machine, or some of the more retro, Vietnam-era protest acts. Any music remotely resembling subversive political messaging is welcome. Radiohead, Gorillaz, Bob Dylan, Nirvana.
• Movies: Pop-expose documentaries are big, as in Michael Moore or anything from Participant Productions. Movies with messages of something to say politically are preferred over neutral entertainment. Favorite directors: Steven Soderbergh, George Clooney, Walter Salles, Mike Leigh, Ken Loach.
• Celebs of this kind: Leonardo DiCaprio, Sean Penn, Ryan Gosling, Rosario Dawson, Alec Baldwin, Green Day.

11) The Health Nut This type of hipster might trace its origins to the hippie communes that dotted the countryside during the 60s rebellion against McDonalds consumerism. The organic, “live off the land,” “we hate preservatives” attitude of these hippies is alive and well in today’s assortment of “tight-abs and Power Bar” health junkies. These are the hipsters who run a lot, frequent stores like GNC and Wild Oats, and participate in the aerobic fitness craze du jour (pilates, yoga, tai-chi, etc). They enjoy the outdoors and shun most television or “couch-potato” behavior. Mostly they just look really tanned and toned all the time, and pair off among themselves when it comes to dating (because who else can live up to those standards?) Places like Boulder (Colorado) and the Pacific Northwest are the breeding grounds for this hip phenom.

• Fashion: The latest in sportswear and comfortable running/cross-training shoes. Eddie Bauer, North Face, Nike, etc. Lots of fleece and outdoorsy-fabrics. Sunglasses tend toward the wrap-around, ski styles. Beanies and visors are the headgear of choice.
• Music: Hodge-podge. Tends towards mid-level, harmless alt-pop like Keane, Coldplay, The Shins, with occasional interest in shimmering psychedelia to the tune of The Flaming Lips or Polyphonic Spree. For workout-inspiration, however, lively rap and hard-rock are allowed: Jurassic Five, Linkin Park, Jay-Z, etc.
• Movies: See Yuppie, with a bit more of a classy sports-movie/inspirational twist. Obscure sports documentaries like Into the Void, Murderball, Spellbound, etc are favorites. Foreign and specialty films are preferred over mindless couch-potato fodder.
• Celebs of this kind: David Beckham, most young Olympic stars, Lance Armstrong, Matthew McConaughey, Madonna, Neve Campbell.

12) The Emo-Goth Goths, as we know them today (not as in medieval Eastern European vampires), seem to have emerged sometime in the 70s or 80s. Since then they’ve been a mainstay of “alternative” lifestyle, and have scared scores of parents and church ladies over the years. Goths are pretty easy to pinpoint (their appearance is among the most predictable in hipsterdom), but vary widely in demeanor and background. A lot of the slightly overweight kids from junior high with the “Mean People Suck” buttons become Goths in their later years. Usually indoors types (white skin is a badge of honor) big into computer culture and gaming, they don’t get out much except to nighttime concerts or to another Goth’s dwelling place. The Emo-Goth is easily the most threatening young person to the establishment—and in his/her cigarette-puffing, dramatic-bangs-in-my-eyes swagger, The Emo-Goth is proud of such an abrasive position.

• Fashion: Obviously, lots of black. Black clothes, black fish-net stockings, black hair (most likely died, with streaks of various sorts), black nails, black eye-liner, etc. Tends toward the freakish, with dungeon/S&M touches here and there (spike bracelets, leather, you know…). Suits and dresses are welcome, though they must be sleek, dark and mysterious. Proper hairdos include the “one eye shrouded” look, which says “the world is too dark and painful to look at with both eyes.”
• Music: Music is huge for these hipsters. 80s noise bands and goth pioneers are big heroes. Current new-wave throwbacks are goth-friendly as well. All things twisted, urbane, industrial, and “dark eye-shadow”… The Cure, Depeche Mode, NIN, Interpol, David Bowie, Fiona Apple, The Knife.
• Movies: Hard to pin down. Goths are sometimes science-fiction and fantasy fans, with a penchant for comic-book adaptations, anime, and/or “Matrix-esque” fare. Others prefer concert films or drug fodder (i.e. kids movies and/or 50s sci-fi) Favorite directors: Peter Jackson, Wachowski Brothers, Hayao Miyazaki, Ridley Scott (older stuff), Richard Kelly (the guy who did Donnie Darko).
• Celebs of this kind: Edward Furlong, Juliette Lewis, Amy Winehouse, Marilyn Manson, Rose McGowan.

Types of Hipsters: Part Two

5) The Flower Child Born of progressive parents or former hippies, these millennials are granola-eating, dreadlocked rich kids who stand in solidarity with the poor and, well everyone except the white bourgeoisie. Aside from those stereotypes, they are actually quite diverse. Some are super socially conscious “no blood for oil!” activists, while others trade politics for pot. Additional concerns range from animal rights to fair trade to various third-world issues. The Flower Child is perhaps best defined by his or her affection for all things natural and organic. They love the outdoors (mountain climbing, biking, ultimate frisbee, etc) and are generally active in earth-saving politics. They enjoy Tofu, oats, and soy, but are not always hardcore vegetarian. Flower Children are generally very mild in temperament and easy to befriend, if you can get past the “take a shower!” stigma.

• Fashion: Dumpster chic or Third World imports. Cultural patterns and fashions are key here. Low-end thrift stores (Salvation Army, Goodwill, etc) are the go-to, where plain plaid flannel shirts, Dickies and retro graphic tees (Mickey Mouse, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) are great finds.
• Music: Widely varied, but generally non-electronic and mellow. Folk and old-school country are big, as are bluegrass, jam band, and progressive rap. Joni Mitchell, Ani Difranco, Patty Smith, Bill Mallonee, Phish, A Tribe Called Quest.
• Movies: Latin American cinema is big, as are the more psychedelic American films. Generally open to comedy more than other hipsters, and not prone to the “all indie, all the time” mindset. Favorite directors: Alejandro González Iñárritu, Fernando Meirelles, Terry Gilliam, David Fincher.
• Celebs of this kind: Damon Gough (Badly Drawn Boy), Janine Garofalo, Kate Hudson, Ani Difranco.

6) The Detached Ironic Do you ever watch VH1? You know all those snarky, one-liner-spewing talking heads that make fun of pop culture all the time? Yeah, this is the Detached Ironic. These hipsters are media savvy and tabloid-literate, with a penchant for guilty pleasure entertainment. Typically the “class clown” personality, this hipster has an ever-ready arsenal of witty remarks about everything from O.J. to J-Lo. Extra-curricular interests include watching trashy television with a detached sense of irony (especially things like “The Tyra Banks Show”) and planning parties around cheesy movie marathons or live television events. While popular in large groups and generally mood-lifting people, DIs can be annoyingly distant in close personal relationships due to their pervasive sarcasm and difficulty with serious situations.

• Fashion: Statement tees are where it’s at—the most original, ironic, and retro the better. Heavy on accessories like sunglasses and trucker hats too. Trendy, self-referential stores like Urban Outfitters, Hot Topic, and Hollister are big with these hipsters.
• Music: All about the 80s—the more outrageous and cheesy, the better. Hair metal, new wave, drug music… all fun. When not wallowing in anachronistic pop, however, modern nerd-rock or punk are good things. Animotion, Go Gos, Sex Pistols, Michael Jackson, Queen, Weezer, Morrissey.
• Movies: Comedy all the way: from the brat pack to the frat pack. Little interest in foreign film (except maybe Monty Python) or too-serious cinema, though broadly knowledgeable of movie trivia across all genres. Favorite directors: Christopher Guest, Tim Burton, Alexander Payne, John Hughes.
• Celebs of this kind: VH1 talking heads, Adam Brody, Tina Fey, Chuck Klosterman, Kathy Griffin.

7) The Yuppie This classic term is defined by Webster as “a young, college-educated adult who is employed in a well-paying profession and who lives and works in or near a large city.” In short: a young urban professional. These hipsters are city slickers extraordinaire, toting Apple ibooks in sleek suede book bags as they walk down the steps of their brownstone flat. They are heavily caffeinated, overworked gym rats that let loose only as part of a regimented schedule. For fun they picnic at outdoor concerts, go out to plays, bar hop (one-word bars only!) or attend young society functions or parties. Groceries are exclusively bought at upscale retailers like Whole Foods or Trader Joes, and table wine is served with most every meal. Though not as socially conscious as other hipsters, yuppies do voice opinions loudly and forcefully. They tend toward blue-state ethics with red-state capitalistic verve.

• Fashion: Lots of catalog and online shopping; no time for scouring store shelves. Dependable upscale department stores are the favorites of yuppies. Generally lots of black attire, suits, and fashionable sunglasses. Even the gym clothes are designer. Overall very attentive to fashion “rules” and perfecting the right look for the right occasion.
• Music: Very middle-of-the-road alternative. Nothing too risqué or indie, but certainly not straight-up pop. Music isn’t hugely important to them, but yuppies do fill their ipods with good stuff. Favorites include mellow brit-pop, sanitized hip hop, and eclectic rock. Coldplay, Belle & Sebastian, Camera Obscura, Doves, Kanye West, John Legend, The Arcade Fire.
• Movies: Tends to veer toward character movies and Oscar bait. Puts large stock in awards and critics’ opinions (Academy Awards parties are annual events). Also enjoys stage-to-screen adaptations of films by reputable theater directors. Favorite directors: Sam Mendes, Paul Greengrass, Martin Scorsese, Neil Labute, Woody Allen.
• Celebs of this kind: Jennifer Aniston, Brad Pitt, Reese Witherspoon, Patrick Wilson, Sarah Jessica Parker, Jake and Maggie Gyllenhaal.

8) The Artiste The geographical origins of hipster—Montmarte, Greenwich Village, Haight-Ashbury—have one thing in common: they were all enclaves of artists, among other things. Thus, the artist could be considered the original hipster. In modern times, the Artiste is the hipster who lives and works in the bohemian art world. Whether painters, sculptors, musicians, poets, filmmakers, or whatever…these guys have talent and are committed to aesthetic triumph. They love art and have a deep appreciation for it, and transcend most (but not all) trends and marketing whims. The Artiste thrives in urban settings, but can be found anywhere. They usually live with other artists and rarely venture outside of the aesthetically-minded bubble.

• Fashion: Boho-peasant chic or rocker trash. Lots of jewelry and accessories, lots of color. Natural fabrics and fibers. Sometimes splashes of androgyny (guys in heels or skirts, girls in wife-beaters, worker shirts or ties) become evident. Over all, very unique and innovative.
• Music: Weird, eccentric, uber-artsy or underground. Foreign music, ambient, and genre fusion is good…basically anything forward-thinking. Obscure 60s music is also big for them. Left Banke, Velvet Underground, Bjork, Sigur Ros, Ravi Shankar, Danielson, Mum, Nick Cave.
• Movies: Typically very high-brow—to the point that even the average art house is too commercial. French New Wave, Italian neo-realism, and New York art cinema are favorite subgenres. Fairly well-versed in cinematic history and theory, with an eye for exceptional cinematography and art direction. Favorite directors: Federico Fellini, Vincent Gallo, Terrence Malick, Gus Van Sant, Andrei Tarkovsky, Wong Kar-Wai, Miranda July.
• Celebs of this kind: Chloë Sevigny, Sufjan Stevens, Joseph Arthur, Michael Pitt, Pete Doherty, select contestants on Project Runway.