Others have pointed out the ugly implications of the mass online outcry over “Kony 2012,”  juxtaposed with the lukewarm response to Trayvon’s murder. Trayvon was killed two weeks before the Kony video’s incredible viral surge, and the news story about his death first got widespread public attention about a month after the incident. I’m not convinced the parallel is warranted – the Kony video is a half-hour of masterful propaganda* designed to play on every point of the rhetorical triangle, while Trayvon’s killing came through the lens of “impartial” news reports. That said, it has been a learning experience to see many of my friends, people I would never label as ‘racists,’ many of whom seemed ready to buy tickets to Uganda and personally beat Joseph Kony to death, respond to the Trayvon story with reserve, often “waiting to see more facts” before they settle on an opinion.

Let me be clear: I believe in the right to due process, and George Zimmerman is, for all legal purposes, innocent until proven guilty. I would never expect a jury to be anything but impartial, or for an alleged perpetrator to face justice outside the courts. But everyone has an opinion, drawn from the facts available to us. Many of the peers I see complaining about “the court of public opinion” were the same people recently condemning the acquittals of Casey Anthony and Amanda Knox as evidence that the justice system is dead. It’s hard for me to understand how anyone following the Trayvon Martin case (or is that lack of case?) could possibly see anything except an innocent child murdered because of his race.

What’s happening, I think, is that people refuse to give up the dream of “post-racial America.” Despite evidence to the contrary, they refuse to believe that racism could be such a problem in America that ‘Walking While Black’ can be fatal.** Confronted with circumstances that say otherwise, they assume there must be some deeper explanation, some fact as yet unrelieved that will prove racism was not the sole motive behind the murder of a 17-year-old boy. It’s this refusal to accept reality, the refusal to admit that our nation might have a very serious problem with race – serious as a gunshot – that allows the water to be muddied by smear campaigns and deceptive reporting.I can only speculate as to the motive behind this post-racial fantasy. Maybe white Americans don’t want to admit that we live in privilege. Maybe we don’t want to face that our successes might be as much the product of a system designed to favor a certain skin tone. Maybe we need to excuse the way we turn a blind eye to the obvious oppression around us, and maybe we’re afraid that on a truly  level playing field, we might for once be on the losing team. I don’t know the reasons, but I know the evidence is abundant. The Conservative machine is the most overt – as Fox News has been happy to demonstrate in their coverage of Trayvon’s murder – but President Obama’s election was trumpeted by nearly every news agency as the “beginning of post-racial America,” and despite the glaring inequality that should be obvious to every American, it’s never hard to find a person, be it a pundit or a fellow citizen, who will tell you about America’s commitment to equal opportunity. They’ll even tell you, given the opportunity, about how Affirmative Action and “reverse racism” are much bigger problems today than “traditional” racism. As Bill Maher pointed out in October, “Denying racism is the new racism.” Watch that video, by the way. I’m not a huge Maher fan, but that one’s terrific.

Sure, there are plenty of people for whom the “post-racial myth” is an agenda. The NRA, the Republican Party, and ALEC have received frequent mention for their economic interest in preserving the myth of equality (mind you, while blowing the dog whistle to keep their customer base afraid and shopping) but I haven’t heard many in the Democratic Party proposing significant criminal justice reforms or an end to the War on Blacks Drugs. Anyone with power or money has an interest in keeping the myth alive, to preserve the status quo that brought their success.

For most of us, though, it’s a simple matter of idealism and belief in the nobility of our nation. We were raised on the mythology of the Founding Fathers, of Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy. We’ve been taught to see the struggle for civil rights as something in our past, something America won thanks to Martin Luther King and the power of our democratic ideals. Thus, when we grow up and enter the real world, faced with the obvious and abundant evidence that equality is still very far away, we look away, ignore, rationalize. This is, to my mind, the biggest reason these problems aren’t fixed: not because a majority of white Americans are racists, but because we refuse to let go of our mythology and face reality.

Instead, we cling to flimsy explanations and “racism lite.” We’ll respond with outrage to a statement that African Americans are genetically inferior, but accept grossly disproportionate incarceration because, well, “those people” are so poor, and have fewer opportunities, and of course that kind of desperation leads to a life of crime. We’ll protest against “the One Percent” and decry income inequality, apparently oblivious to the racial income inequality that divides “the Ninety-Nine Percent.” And when a disturbed, paranoid gun nut who thinks dark skin makes a 7-year-old look “suspicious” pursues and shoots an unarmed 17-year-old who had the gall to wear a hoodie in his gated community, we reserve judgement. We wait for that other piece of evidence, that other fact that will prove America isn’t a racist country – and there are plenty who are only too happy to provide us with flimsy, “racism-lite” excuses: Trayvon was suspended for a drug violation. He posed for photos with gold foil on his teeth. He was a “wannabe gangster.” He wore the wrong clothing.

I’m actually a bit edified by Geraldo Rivera’s comments about the culpability of Trayvon’s hoodie. While his statements were outrageous and offensive, they implied something that I doubt Geraldo would ever openly state: Geraldo Rivera believes the US has such a problem with racism that wearing the wrong kind of clothing can be fatal. Let me say that again: Geraldo believes the United States has such a problem with racism that people of color who wear hoodies should expect racists to murder them. This is an incredibly powerful statement about America’s issues with race, and I’m a little disappointed that it was mostly lost in the partisan hysteria around his commentary.

It’s also sad that I think Geraldo is more right than most white Americans realize or want to accept. The US is a country where a 17-year-old boy was just last month shot for no reason except his race, and where the local police refused to arrest his murderer, and appear to have fabricated witness testimony and doctored evidence to justify their lack of response. My question is, how many more children have met similar fates, and been missed by the media?

There are those who claim the viral success of Kony 2012 exceeded interest in Trayvon’s death because Americans are all too willing to hate the dark-skinned bad guy. I won’t deny that phenomenon, but I don’t think it’s the primary explanation. I think the locale has more to do with it – white Americans are trained and ready to believe that terrible things happen in Africa, or China, or Iran, or other faraway places. Hell, a lot of us will readily accept that medicine from faraway Canada is secretly poison. When something happens in our country, however, it’s harder to accept because it tarnishes our idea of what America is.

Mind you, the response from many African Americans has been markedly different. While I’ll never paint an entire community with a single brush stroke, it’s safe to say that the US, in the eyes of a black American, is often very different from the whitewashed [pun intentional] myth to which so many white Americans cling. People of color know all-too-well the myriad nefarious ways discrimination and inequality creep into everyday life, not only in the Deep South but in cities and states from Atlantic to Pacific. Read or listen to responses from Americans of color, and you’ll hear plenty of outrage, but very little surprise – and almost never disbelief.

The first step in protecting innocent children from racist nuts like George Zimmerman — not to mention protecting millions of people of color from institutionalized discrimination, a monster of our own creation – may be to let go of our mythology and face the very real, very challenging problems the US still has with race.

* This is not to disparage the Kony video, per se. Propaganda is propaganda, whether its message is fair or not.
** I realize this ignores those motivated by garden-variety racism, but as I said we’re setting those folks aside for now.

“Khaleesi, prophecy tells of a mighty dragon who will come in the niiiiiiiiight.”

I was leaning toward “Daenerys Trogaryen,” but I kind of prefer my friend’s title, “Daenerys, the Unburninated.”

This is an original, I’m proud to say. A loving tribute to both properties.

From the first time the preview set me bawling in the theater, I have hated this movie. It’s one thing to cast a bunch of Oscar bait actors in a heartwarming story of a child mourning his dead father – that’s manipulative enough. To make use of the familiar images of 9/11 – the towers falling, papers falling from the sky, the bulletin boards covered in posters for lost friends and family – not only in the film but in the advertising campaign is flat-out crass. Worse, it’s flat-out lazy writing.

From the Gawker review:

Of course, that brings us to the film’s most risible potential problem: It’s a movie about 9/11. A lot of Extremely Loud‘s loudest detractors don’t just hate the movie; they object to how 9/11 is portrayed, adopting almost a territorial position concerning what’s “appropriate” or not for a film of this kind. The argument seems to be that using footage of the smoldering, collapsing towers—not to mention a few overly artsy, oblique shots of people falling from the towers—is in poor taste for a movie that wants to turn that horrible day into a sappy, quirky, manipulative Oscar candidate.

It’s an argument that’s so subjective and emotionally charged—especially if you were someone who knew any of the 9/11 victims—that it’s hard to know how to respond. All I can say is that while I understand those objections, I don’t think Extremely Loud is (for most of its running time) trying to somehow “heal” the wounds of 9/11 or offer a feel-good solution to the still-lingering pain of that day. Granted, the movie’s closing stretch is needlessly gooey with its sentimental, tearful reconciliations, and I wish it were more ambiguous in its resolution, offering a guarded sense of optimism rather than the unalloyed happy ending it dishes out. But I can’t deny that I found the movie incredibly affecting both times I’ve seen it.

That doesn’t mean I can’t see the film’s clear flaws. There is unquestionably a lot of preciousness you have to swallow. But while it’s fair to accuse Extremely Loud of capitalizing on the communal anguish of 9/11 to make its story more “significant,” I’m not sure it’s fair to ignore the film’s genuine attempt at dramatizing the intensely personal process of filling the void within.

Here’s the thing: It’s not only a question of what’s in good taste or poor taste. The fact is, playing on familiar images of 9/11 is a cheap way of stirring a visceral emotional reaction from audience members. It’s a manipulative trick used by lazy filmmakers to create a connection they haven’t earned. It’s lazy.I have no problem with artists using 9/11 as a backdrop for their fiction. It’s one of the most significant cultural events, if not the most significant, in the life of every living American, I’d hardly expect it to be taboo. But there’s a difference between using the events as a backdrop, and recreating images designed to play upon the deep emotional wounds of your viewers. This is why good filmmakers evoke the events without showing us the familiar visuals – I’m thinking here of Michael Moore, but there have been many others who told stories about 9/11, and resisted the impulse to put those visuals in front of our eyes.

I can’t even watch previews for Extremely Loud.  When it comes on, I avert my eyes or change the channel. It’s the Sarah McLachlin Shelter Pet Commercial of movie previews. I don’t mind crying at the movies, but when that happens I want it to be because of some emotional resonance, some connection that’s been forged between me and the film by skillful artistry – not because some director realized how easy it would be to make me cry by playing on the unresolved emotions I’m carrying around. Those feelings are mine, not theirs, and I feel violated every time.

The shame of it is, of course, that the movie itself might be quite good – certainly the performances look promising, and reviewers seem to find something insightful in the story, but for me any value will be lost by that sense of violation, and by my anger over the laziness of filmmakers who decided to pick at my scabs instead of trusting their story, and their actors, to draw out my emotions.

In honor of last week’s trip to Las Vegas with Liz, this week is Vegas Week, where we learn about the history, sexy and sleazy, of Sin City, and I share my personal experience and advice for a visit.

If it’s your first trip to Vegas,and it’s summer, there’s something important you should know: in Vegas, a pool is not just a pool, and if you don’t do your research in advance, you could end up embarrassed and traumatized by your Vegas pool experience. As far as I can tell, there are three types of pool in Las Vegas, and each has its own rules. Here’s a brief run-down.

The Hotel Pool

We’ll start with the most benign and familiar. Every major Vegas resort has a basic hotel pool – though “basic” is probably not the right word for it. Vegas pools are massive, complex, and sometimes confusing. Depending on your resort, there may be a lazy river, a wave pool, a natural sand beach, fountains, water slides, and other features. No matter where you are there will certainly be a poolside bar charging more for one drink than the Luxor wants for a night’s stay, and there will almost certainly be one or more groups of drunks spending their entire day standing in the pool and drinking, getting progressively louder and more obnoxious. There will also be parents, possibly drunk, acting oblivious toward their children, who are running around the pool seeing things that are illegal on network television.  If it’s Thursday – Saturday, there will likely be a DJ spinning poolside.

What to Budget: Hotel pools are generally free to guests of that hotel, and often to guests of that resort chain (MGM-Mirage and Harrah’s/Bally’s are the two biggies). If you’re looking to get your buzz on, pre-game in your room (you’ll hear that a lot in Vegas). Food runs room service prices, and you’re not likely to find drinks priced less than $8-12 each – even a can of Miller Lite is often $10. Poolside chairs are free, though they can be scarce. Towels are also free. Daybeds and private cabanas are available at lower rates than at Ultra Pools, but will still run you $100 or more per day.

What to Expect: Guest behavior is tame compared with Ultra Pools and European Pools, but rowdier than you’d find at hotel pools in most other cities. Think Spring Break or Jersey Shore. While nudity is not permitted, expect to see some guests in bikinis (or trunks) so small and tight you wonder what the point is. Arrive early, especially if you have a large group, as chairs can fill up fast. Standard practice at a Vegas pool says that a towel or an article of clothing left on a chair means that chair is reserved (even if the owner is spending 3 solid hours standing around in the pool – sorry!), and an empty chair is an available chair.

What to Wear: Wear whatever you would normally wear to a pool or beach, as much or as little as that might be. Hotel pools are fairly free of judgement.

Notable examples: The Bellagio has a beautiful pool featuring picturesque fountains, and tends to attract a very attractive and pretty laid back crowd. Mandalay Bay and the Monte Carlo have wave pools, sand beaches, and lazy rivers. The Golden Nugget’s pool is built around a giant shark tank, including a water slide that passes (by way of a clear tube) through the shark tank itself.

The Ultra Pool

One of the most famous and unique Vegas experiences is the Ultra Pool, essentially a dance club constructed around a pool. For those who don’t know what they’re in for, an Ultra Pool can be a terribly intimidating experience – women generally arrive in designer swimsuits, dressed to the nines in heels and accessories, with their hair done and full makeup. Often attended by D-list celebrities who are paid to “host” their parties, Ultra Pools are often mobbed and always rowdy. You know those few groups of twenty-somethings at the hotel pool who were acting like they were on Spring Break? Yeah, that’s the entire shoulder-to-shoulder crowd at the Ultra Pool. Leave the kids at home, arrive with a buzz, and be either young and hot or long on patience.

What to Budget: Ultra Pools aren’t cheap to begin with – and the prices go up when they’re hosting a promoted “party,” usually on the weekends. Attractive women can often get in for free, but men (even in the company of those women) should expect to pay $20-40 for entrance on a slow day, and prices upwards of $100 to enter during a party. If you’re planning a trip to an ultra pool, try to get on a guest list – promoters often hang out at hotel pools on weekdays to try and drum up business, and you can find many of them on the web via Google. Even on the guest list, men should expect to pay, though the rates are greatly reduced. Oh, and guys, while I realize the idea of a bunch of drunk young ladies in bikinis competing for attention induces all kinds of slobber, you should know the same strictly enforced 1:1 ratio that applies at Vegas clubs also applies to Ultra Pools – for every guy who wants to be admitted, you need to have one girl in your group. Even if you’re on the guest list, the only way around the 1:1 rule is to drop a lot of money on bottle service or a cabana.

What to Expect: Think Spring Break at the Jersey Shore, times ten. Especially if it’s a “party,” the pool will be packed with drunken people standing shoulder-to-shoulder with drinks in their hands. There will be fights between guys, and probably a few fights between girls. In the mass of horny drunken twenty-somethings, attention-starved young ladies and men will be trying all kinds of stunts to try to stand out. If it’s a party, look for the D-list celeb (or celebs). They’ll be near the photographers, probably promoting a new reality show on E! network or Spike TV. If you’re a single woman, or a group of women, expect to be hit on relentlessly from the moment you walk into the club.

What to Wear: Dress to impress. Most women will be in heels and makeup, with full accessories and hair done. This is a crowd who will know on sight who designed your bikini, your shoes, your sunglasses, and your wrap. Guys have it easier with the clothing – a generic pair of board shorts will do fine – but should expect to be judged if they aren’t built like they walked out of an Abercrombie ad. Ultra Pools are the high school of Las Vegas, and they aren’t for the faint of heart or the socially anxious. Guys, do note that most Ultra Pools require swim attire, and you will be turned away if you’re wearing cutoff jeans or khakis.

Notable examples: Wet Republic, at the MGM Grand, is the definitive Ultra Pool. Newer additions like the Encore Beach Club at the Wynn and Nikki Beach at the Tropicana are catching on. Note that while some, like Wet Republic, are “Ultra Pools” every day, some pools have secret identities, and only take on their “Ultra Pool” character for weekend parties. If what you’re seeking is the debauchery and hormone-fueled mob described above (and I’m not judging – there are certainly days that’s what I’m after) make sure you’re going on the right day, so you aren’t disappointed by a gargantuan and empty pool.

The “European” Pool

At Las Vegas pools, “European” means “topless.” This trend began emerging a few years ago with a small number of clubs, and caught on fast. Now, many resorts have a smaller pool that is dedicated to topless bathing, though some are only “European” on weekdays. You should not expect the crowd at a “European” pool to regard toplessness with the casual attitude Europeans do – topless pools have anything goes reputations like swingers clubs, and even the most die-hard fans seem to think that actually entering the pool will immediately inflict upon the swimmer a host of venereal diseases.

What to Budget: Prices vary, and some have no cover charge at all, at least on weekdays. Women are generally free everywhere, while men should expect to pay $20-$40 to enter. Groups of single men are likely to be denied admission unless they’re buying a bottle at $1,000 or more. Many European Pools are on the small side, so chairs can be hard to come by. Chaise lounges, daybeds and cabanas will run between $70 and $1,000 a day, depending on the club.

What to Expect: While I cannot say from experience, there are comments all over the Internet that indicate European pools are very adult-oriented and tolerant. One has to assume that these types of clubs attract exhibitionists, and drunken exhibitionists have very few boundaries. Many people describe witnessing poolside sex acts. Crowds generally sound more laid back than at Ultra Pools, and children are absolutely not admitted.

What to Wear: If the rule at an Ultra Pool is dress to impress, then the rule at a European Pool is dress to undress. You might want to arrive in heels and accessories, but once you remove your cover-up, the skimpier the better. The pressure is not on the label, but on the physique – the crowd is less interested in the time you’ve spent at Neiman Marcus, and more interested in the time you’ve spent at LA Fitness.

Notable examples: Bare, at the Mirage, is one of the first and best known “European” Pool Clubs. Tao Beach, at the Venetian, has a good reputation. Rehab, at the Hard Rock, is open only on Sundays, and is generally regarded as one of the wildest (some would say “sleaziest”) pool clubs on the Strip. European Pools and Ultra Pools are not mutually exclusive – some parties, like Rehab, meet both definitions.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FOuc3nDFweY