Home

3 years ago this month, I moved to Cleveland, via Swanton, Ohio, Hillsdale, Michigan, Ottawa, Ohio, and Wooster, Ohio.  For good measure, I can throw Findlay in, as a quasi-home that I've never actually had a permanent residence in.  Though I live in all of those places and more prior to moving to Cleveland, Ottawa, for all its worth, is my "hometown."  It's where I grew up, its where the farm I so often cite in stories about my childhood is, and its where I went to high school.

Last week, for Easter, we went back to Findlay and Lima to visit my grandma and my future child's grandma (aka my mother-in-law).  Every time we get back to northwestern Ohio, I think about all of the great things you can do there that you can't do in Cleveland.  That's a little ridiculous, if you've ever been to Findlay, Lima, or Ottawa, because Cleveland is larger than all 3 put together, particularly from a diversity and cultural standpoint.  As you can see, the Putnam County flag is pretty close to the confederate flag.  That's much less shocking than you might think, for a county literally 3 hours from Canada.

But even so, there are things back "home" that you can't get in Cleveland.  Kewpie (Lima) burgers are still the best fast-food burgers in the world; Main Street Deli (Findlay) could hold its own even in Cleveland's crowded deli-sandwich scene, and Pizzeria (Ottawa) would be my favorite pizza in Cleveland if it were here.  I don't know if my opinions on all of those are at all objective: but its the stuff I grew up with and its the stuff that, sometimes, I crave because you just can't get it here.  I should also note that, even though a "Titan Burger" is essentially a Big Mac made at a local ice cream stand (in Ottawa), my mouth still waters at the thought of it, even though I could get a pretty close approximation all over the place.  But it's just not the same.  You long for the things you grew up with.

But despite all of my cravings for things back home, (including non-food experiences, like sitting around a fire in someone's backyard, drinking busch light, with the closest neighbor miles away, or running into people you vaguely remember at the gas station and talking with a faux-southern accent), more and more, "back home" isn't very much home lately.

About a year before I moved to Cleveland, my mom left our family.  Though it would be easy to say it was a standard divorce sort of thing from my dad, it was really a complete walk-away from our entire family.  I've talked to her maybe 4 times since, and it is never more than barely polite.  Ever since, home, or whatever notion I had of it, just hasn't been the same.  Even if I'm in the backyard of a farmhouse on road M-10, drinking a busch light while the fire blazes, waiting for the pizzeria to deliver our pizza and crazy bread, there's not so much home to go back to when I go "back home."  In its own way, I suppose Ottawa, Findlay, Lima, etc. will always feel like home. But it hasn't been the same since my mom left.  There will always be a gap between what growing up was, with how my family is (or isn't) now.  So many of my memories and feelings toward northwestern Ohio are tied to a conception of life and family that doesn't exist for me anymore, because the family I grew up in doesn't really exist anymore.

And it is with that background that I came to Cleveland.  And it is in Cleveland that I'm finding the home I'd lost.  It could simply be a product of the facts: this is where my wife found a job, this is where we live, and this is where we're starting our own family.  I'm sure that is a part of it.  But more broadly, there is much more to it.

I've always said that something I love about Cleveland are the times when you get the sense that we're all in this together.  At a sporting event, at a festival, whatever it may be, there's a certain love for this place and a will to see it rebound and thrive that ties everyone together.  That is when Cleveland is at its best.  For me, thats the lifeblood on which I thrive myself.  It doesn't matter where you came from in Cleveland (at least when Cleveland is being the best version of itself)  If you've chosen to make this your home, you become "one of us."  It is very much the opposite of the cloistered German-American society I grew up in (I literally knew 0 white people besides my (technically adoptive) grand parents and extended family on my dad's side who weren't German.  As a complete side note, it's interesting that Ottawa, which was one of the earliest reservations for the Ottawa Indian Tribe, is now a sort of de facto reservation for German Catholics).  As my own home from my whole life faded into nothingness, Cleveland became a place where I could be who I am to this point, and become who I'll be moving forward.

There's a place for everyone in Cleveland.  And that's a good thing, because Cleveland needs everyone it can get.  It will always be a wild ride, as we struggle with our systemic problems that lead to poverty, homelessness, and scads of  condemned and decrepit buildings.  But there's a camaraderie in the struggle.  As Cleveland engages in its own fresh start, it grants us all the opportunity to do the same.  There's a circular beauty there.  Home is where the heart is, they say.  Perhaps, my whole life, my heart was here, and I just didn't know it.  Cleveland is my home now, and in many ways, more than anywhere else ever was.

Now, if we could just get rid of "Wahoo"....

-Zack

Don't Call it a Comeback

Unless this is your first time reading this, you're probably noticing the new look, and the entirely new concept.  But if this isn't your first time reading this, it's probably not all that unfamiliar.  I've realized, since getting married and starting law school, that I don't really write personal blogs all that much anymore.  Sometimes I do, but most of the time, even then, it's more like a way to share extended thoughts with friends far and wide on a level at least a little deeper than Facebook.

For the most part though, for quite some time, I've realize that I focus on a just a few things: entertainment, sports, food, but mostly, Cleveland.

Since moving here, even when I try to think about other topics, my thoughts always devolve back to what it means for this city that's propped up a spot in my heart.  So I decided, for better or worse, to actually dedicate my blog, for the foreseeable future, to writing about Cleveland- the people, places, things I encounter, the stories I hear, the thoughts and feelings it stirs inside me.  This is where my life is now.  I've hitched my future to Cleveland's future, so I thought I'd chronicle it, best I can, along the way.

But why "Post-Modern?"  3 reasons really:

1. The term itself is perfect for where Cleveland is now.  Ever since the seventies, Cleveland has been struggling to attain an unfulfilled promise of greatness.  Industry built Cleveland, and now the city, still, strives to reach its past by reinventing itself for the 21st century.

2.  Timing.  For better or worse, we've been in the "post-modern" era since the sixties as a society (or longer, depending on what you're looking at), and the tenants of post-modernity (namely non-centrality) have finally broken into the subconscious of adults.  Cleveland is going to be shaped by those people.  By "those people" I mean "us" because I'm right there in it.

3. Diversity.  Cleveland is a fractured city when you look at it up close.  East-West, White-Black, rich-poor.  But Cleveland somehow pulls it all together.  No matter where you're from or where you're going, Cleveland's shared sense of striving and pushing forward for the greater good brings people together here.  People, individually, are very different from each other.  But when Cleveland is at its best, those differences combine to make something strong, something tenable and beautiful.  Cleveland's identity is hard to pin down, because it is defined by so many people who are not like one another.  Like any big city, that's not always an easy fact: there is plenty of racism, sexism, and "side-ism" to go around.  But Cleveland has the potential to be truly cosmopolitan and communal, because we're all in this together in ways that cities without so much shared struggle don't have to be.

Federico Fellini once said that he never really saw the world til he look at it through the lens of a movie camera.  Well, I'm not a filmmaker, but I like to write.  So here I am, starting a journey to look at Cleveland and document what I find, to maybe see it a little better, to understand the people more, and to give a voice to the comeback.  Comeback though, is not the right word.  The industry won't come back.  Rebirth, perhaps, after a decentering and deconstruction, as something bigger, stronger, and better than ever before.

-Zack

We Must Try to Live

Two weeks ago, we saw Hayao Miyazaki’s last film “The Wind Rises.”  It is, in many ways, the most unique of Miyazaki’s prolific career.  If you have seen anything else (Spirited Away, Kiki’s Delivery Service, Princess Mononoke, to name a few) by Miyazaki, the obvious expectation is something set in an out-of-this-world, fantastic universe, with magical creatures or spirits or witches.  Even Ponyo and Princess Mononoke, both actually set in “real world” Japan, featured mystical spirits and talking animals.  The Wind Rises has none of that.  Other than some magical dream sequences, there’s not really a hint of magic.  But even in its real-world trappings, The Wind Rises is nothing if not magical.

Set before, during, and after World War II, the film tells the story of an aspiring aeronautical engineer, who wants to make the world a better place but is forced to create the next great figher plane for Japan’s war efforts.  I won’t really retell more of the plot than I have to, but the whole film centers on a translated french quote: Le vent se leve, il faut tenter de vivre: translated as “The wind rises, we must try to live (though more literally the wind rises, I must try living) from Paul Valery’s poem “The Cemetary by the Sea.”   It seems to me that the entire film is a sort of meditation on that line.   It’s a movie about war without being a war movie: in many ways, it offers a frank, anti-japanese-government-but-pro-japanese take on WWII that doesn’t surface very much in the US.   But the point never quite seems to be about politics. 

Because it’s a Miyazaki movie, you could just mute it and be dazzled by the animation: this time, he shows his expertise at animating the flight, the wind, and all of its effects.  But because it is a Miyazaki film, all of that visual splendor affects the film’s artistry beyond its dazzling shots and animation. 

The wind rises, and it is beautiful when it does.  But there is always a crash or a landing: but even a landing is an end to the flight.  As a film about an engineer, Jiro, there’s a certain sadness, even to his success.  The planes are meant to kill people, even though that is never what their creator wanted, it was the only way he could express his creativity.  There is no other option for Jiro: he has to create planes because it is the purpose of his life.  There’s no other option: the film is not even a meditation on determinism: it’s just that simple: Jiro exists to create planes, even if they are figther planes for a war he doesn’t want.  The wind rises.  He must try to live.  If it weren’t for the wind, there could be no flight.  If it weren’t for the war, there could be no outlet for his creativity.  The wind rises, so he must try to live.

At a point in the movie, Jiro falls in love with a woman who is terminally ill: but they are in love, so they must marry and make it work as much as they can: the wind rises, they must try to live.  It’s simply that basic: there are things in life they can control: their marriage and life in it, and things in life they can’t: both that they love each other and that she is dying.  That’s the dualism of the film: the wind rises, and we must try to live despite it.  But if it weren’t for the wind, there would be no flight, no planes, no life as Jiro knows and needs it (and, without putting much more plot into this, know that, were it not for the wind, Jiro would have never met his eventual wife). 

I’m not one much for message movies as such.  Just look at my post about the Oscars: 12 Years a Slave and Philomena were, to me, vastly overrated because of their message.  But I am not opposed to a film having a message: actually, I think any work of art probably does in some way, if it is truly a work of actual artistic expression. 

Hayao Miyazaki is one of the greatest living cinéartistes: it is no surprise that all of his films are high art in one way or another.  Though not may favorite of his work (Spirited Away is a masterpiece among masterpieces), The Wind Rises may be his most poignant film.  It has a clear message, in that “the wind rises, we must try to live” but it never tells you what that means: it shows you what it means.  That is great art.  Jiro’s life is a story of overcoming obstacles, but at the end of the film, it’s not as if he’s some kind of champion engineer living happily ever after.  At the end of the film, Jiro’s career is over, most of his planes have been destroyed (“that’s what happens when you lose a war” one of the characters says): but for what it was, while it was, Jiro can only say thank you for all he had, even if he has nothing to show for it now.  The wind rose, he lived.  It’s not about the end result for Jiro, it’s about how he lived while the wind was rising.  Like the planes he built, they either crashed or landed, but none of them flew forever.  For 35 years, Miyazaki rode the wind too.  Though most would, by all accounts, call him a huge success with plentty to show for it, it seems he cherishs the memories of the act of creation most, if we are to take any of The Wind Rises as a message from him.  (and it’s impossible not to, seriously). 

In that regard, The Wind Rises is appropriately unAmerican.  It’s not about the end result, it’s not about winning or losing.  It is about living while the wind is rising, succeed or fail.  Wars, disease, loss of loved ones, unintended and adverse goals set by authorities beyond our control all come in life: and they meet parts of us we can’t help: the temperment we’ve been given, the skills, talents, ideas, the people we love, the families we have: they all come together, the wind rises and falls with all of them.  But it’s the attempt to live within all of that, while we’ve still got the chance, that matters most.

None of The Wind Rises ever says any of that.  The entire film shows all of it.

 

-Zack

Ten Restaurants You Have to Try, in (and around) Cleveland

If you’ve ever seen the movie “High Fidelity,” you’ve probably thought about creating a bunch of lists, just as a sort of way to catalogue your life.  After 15 years, it seems like the entire internet is finally getting around to that back-of-the-mind goal.  Buzzfeed uses the list as a means to communicate, CNN does its best to copy the format (and CNN’s best is not very good).  Everywhere you look, all over the internet, there are lists. 

 

It makes sense: lists are digestible: they can communicate a lot of information in a nicely-chunked up format that people can either choose to read entirely, or just scan and see the rundown.  As society  moves toward an increasingly game-like system, in which everything is turned into a mini-competition to increase productivity (it’s true, and I think it’s a good thing), there’s something inherently appealing about the list as a means of organization and communication with an implicit eye toward competition. 

 

I’m not one for brevity, and I’m not generally one for trendy writing.  I typically want to perfect my own style for its own sake than please the reader.   It’s like the difference between Fireball Whiskey and Jefferson Rye.  One is really popular right now and appeals to the current drinker (at least on Cleveland’s Westside…); but the other is a time-tested recipe, honed toward perfection for the last 300 years.  It has less mass appeal, but it is better at being itself.  Ultimately, that’s what I want, to be better at being myself.

All of that said, I thought I’d make a list, every now and then, because it is fun to make lists.  So here’s my first, roughtly approximated to the ten places I’ve enjoyed eating most since moving to Cleveland.  It’s not a ranking really, just an homage.  It’s also probably the “10 Best Restaurants in Cleveland” as would be determined by Cleveland magazine or the plain dealer.  Theses are ten of my favorites, for the unique reasons I’ll explain.  Most of all though, they are suggestions you should try next time you’re in Cleveland. 

 

(I’m still working on not being the type of writer who has to thoroughly preface everything, or at least to be better at being that type of writer.  I’m not sure).

 

10.  Crop, Ohio city (New American Cuisine)

                Built in a monstrous old bank building, a vestige of Ohio City’s old place as an actual part of downtown, Crop one of the most unique settings you’ll find in Cleveland.   Much of the early-twentieth century bank-skyscraper trappings remain: the original ceiling, floor, and artwork still adorn the space.  When we went, we got to sit at the “chef’s table;” a real treat: getting to see a busy kitchen.  If you go, I highly recommend the “chef’s table” if it’s available.  It’s like sitting at the bar, but instead of the drink prep area, you’re looking in on the kitchen at work.  Though that might sound a bit like subway, it’s much more like performance art.  It even came with an amusée bouche: an incredible pork belly bite topped with peppers and a dressing.  I had an incredible fried pork chop for dinner, but the best dish was probably our olive and goatcheese flatbread.  It balanced the two tangy twins perfectly with dates, greens, and an incredible, flaky but crispy crust.

9. Greenhouse Tavern, (Sustainable American-French) E. 4^th

                I’ve never actually been here for dinner (though I hear it’s quite good).  It made this list foe 2 reasons: 1. The sort of bicycle garage atmosphere and 2. The wait staff.  I’ve had it for lunch a couple of times (a certain perk to working downtown), and though I enjoyed my food (a croque madame and spectacular truffle fries), it has been, each time, the excellent service that wins the day.  The people who work at Greenhouse absolutely know their stuff.  More than that, they are actually passionate about it.  Maybe it’s easy to be passionate about great food, but there’s something unique about this place.  They don’t just tell you an obviously prepared list of ingredients and general impressions: they tell you everything about the food, from where it’s sourced to how its prepared.  The food service industry is (ironically) a pretty thankless job much of the time: poor wages, poor tippers, entitled Americans.  I’m sure Greenhouse gets those clients and suffers those ills (though I’d not be shocked if they make better than minimum-server wages): whatever they’re doing here though, makes the staff love their work.  That’s the mark of a great place, good food or not.  I’ll let you know how I feel about the food when I actually get there for dinner though

8. Soho, (Southern U.S.), Ohio City

                I’ve got a pretty large soft spot for actual southern food and drink.  It’s probably so big that my hard spots are smaller than that soft spot.  Soho, though apparently named after a district of both New York and London, is actually shorthand for “southern hospitality.”  Though I despise the fact that they use boneless, skinless chicken for their fried chicken, even it’s pretty good.  Everything else is astounding.  I particularly recommend their spicy collard greens.  Though Heinen’s has changed it, this used to be the only place in Cleveland to get a Cheerwine (thank you Heinen’s).  Their cocktails are unique and worth the price (that’s rare, even in Cleveland), each named for a different southern city.  For being pan-southern, they actually do a good job acknowledging the diversity of the South- it’s not just St. Louis or Memphis style ribs or friend chicken and collard greens: they have southern-style seafood (that isn’t Maryland style: it’s almost impossible to find anywhere that differentiates), shrimp and grits, smoked mac and cheese, their fried fish is catfish, etc., etc.  Anywhere that acknowledges that South is not just Texas, New Orleans, bourbon, and friend chicken, is my kind of place.

7. The Indies (Indian), 5^th St. Arcade;

                This is in a food court.  This is also the best Indian food I’ve found in Cleveland.  For 7 dollars at lunch, you get 2 pieces of Naan and a drink alongside 3 curries of your choice.  There are usually 4 or 5 vegetarian dishes, and 4 or 5 chicken dishes.  I typically get 2 vegetarian and a chicken.  My favorite is a vegetarian curry made with chickpeas and mustard greens.  Everything is perfectly spicy and flavorful.  The naan is buttered and crisp on the outside while pillowy beneath.  It might not have all of the options of a more typical Indian restaurant, but if you’re not picky and just want some Indian food, you’ll not find a better spot, regardless of price.  For the money, it’s a win-win.  

                Side note: The 5^th street arcades are becoming the most incredible place in Cleveland, more and more each week it seems. 

6. Deegan’s (New American Gastropub), Detroit Rd. (Lakewood)

                Ah Deegans.  We’ve probably ate here more than basically anywhere else in Cleveland.  It’s close to our house and it never, ever disappoints.  Melt is next door and much more famous, but Deegan’s should be.  The menu changes all of the time because they keep everything seasonal, so it’s hard to say what I’d recommend eating.  Just know that they do everything right: the drink list is monstrous, though classic (there are no signature cocktails aside from the occasional seasonal).  A rotating seasonal cheese/sausage list provides the perfect alternative appetizer.  Their warm pretzel “bar snack” is soft, and served with a beer cheese you would literally kill someone for.  Those are just the things I know they have- their entrees, which are different every single time we go, never, ever disappoint.  I mean never.  I always say I want to try their burger next time, then they have some new dish I just have to try.  Someday, I will try the burger.  I’m sure it will be delicious.  My wife raves about the mussels constantly, but I don’t like mussels.  If you like mussels, I guess you should probably go to Deegans.

5. Happy Dog (Hotdogs and tatertots), Detroit Shoreway

                For 5 dollars at Happy Dog, you get a hot dog with whatever you want on it.  Whatever.  This does mean you can do something crazy, like peanut butter, marshmallow, and salsa.  Happy Dog is known for allowing these shenanigans. But it is actually the well-thought out hot-dog that will steal the day.  They have 7 or 8 cheeses, 7 or 8 vegetables (from relish to pickled jicama), 7 or 8 sauces (hot sauces, barbecues, all sorts).  From there, the hotdog is your canvas.  I particularly enjoy brie, onions, mustard, and their hottest hot sauce.  The tatertots are somehow magically delicious too.  Don't leave without trying them.

4. El Carnicero (New Mexican), Detroit rd.( Lakewood)

                There is much to say about El Carnicero: their margaritas are unique and spectacular, the environment is interesting and hip, their bartenders have a great sense of humor (for 5 dollars during happy hour, you can order “El Hipster”: a shot of tequila and a modelo- Lakewood everybody).  But there are two words that define the El Carnicero experience succinctly: refried beans.  If there is a better use of 3 dollars anywhere in the world, sign me up.  It’s just a side dish, but it is literally the most flavorful side dish you will ever eat.  They are perfectly spicy, wonderfully aromatic, and the texture is just right.  They aren’t pasty, but they aren’t just slightly smushed beans either.  Everything about them is perfect.  Everything.  They are what heaven tastes like.

3.  Mahall’s 20 Lanes (Progressive Bowling Alley fare), Madison Rd. (Lakewood)

                Yeah, this is a bowling alley.  But don’t tell the chefs that.  I’m not sure how they found them or what they were thinking, but Mahalls somehow put together the perfect set of snacks for bowling without having anything to do with mozzarella sticks or hot dogs.  I met one of the chefs accidentally once.  I was eating the collard greens, he asked me what I thought of them.  “They’re delicious” I replied.  “I’m glad to hear that” he said.  “ It’s my mother’s recipe.”  Mahalls is literally just letting people make their parent’s recipes, and they’re quietly making the best sourthern food in Cleveland, or maybe all of the north.   Their cole slaw, pulled pork, fried chicken, and collard greens are better than anywhere I’ve had elsewhere in town.  Actually, they’re better or as good than most of what I’ve had actually in the South.  I mean, they give you regional options with your (unsauced when you get it) pulled pork.  At a bowling alley.  That’s unheard of  in Ohio.  Heck, barbecue usually means either sauce, potato chips, or grill in Ohio, even at “barbecue restaurants.”  Mahalls is a bowling alley, but I just bowl so I can eat.  (also, it is a hipster mecca in everyway- they also have the best cocktails outside of the Velvet Tango Room (and they’re actually more unique) and an incredible beer selection)

2.  Light Bistro (New American Tapas) , Ohio City

                For the last three years, we’ve enjoyed Light Bistro for our Valentine’s day meal, and that’s mostly what got this here.  The Light Bistro, like many restaurants, offers a prix fixe for valentine’s day.  This year, we had to celebrate a day early, so we missed out.  I’m kind of glad we did.  Though it was good the last two years, I’d always wanted to explore the deeper menu.  Simply put, I enjoy any good tapas place for the variety.  Light Bistro is no exception.  The highlight is the pork belly: it’s perfectly cooked: tender, with the fat melting atop it.  After my first bite, I decided that bacon is a waste of pork belly.  It’s how pork should be eaten.  But everything we tried was delicious.  For dessert, they shake a bag of warm beignets in sugar, then provide 3 dipping sauces.  It’s even better than it sounds.  If you want taps in Cleveland, I don’t see how you could go anywhere else.

1.  Le Petit Triangle (French Café),  Ohio City

                I’m always a little torn about Le Petit Triangle.  We’ve been there once and it is simply supreme.  They do french right, it’s that simple.  In typical Cleveland fashion, it’s a hole-in-the-wall with the strangest shape you’ll find for a restaurant (the name comes from the building’s shape), and it has legitimate food, beyond the more highly touted.  It’s the best french food we’ve had in Cleveland, even if Brasserie 429 or Tartine get more publicity around town.  It’s very classic: they have steak with bleu cheese sauce, poulet au (insert seasonal sauce and vegetable), ratatouille, crepes, even frog legs and escargot.  It’s also highly affordable for what you get.  But you always know what you’ll get.  That’s why I can be so torn.  Cleveland has so many adventurous eating opportunities: it’s hard to ever eat at the same place twice.  But at the same time, there’s something to be said for doing good food well, and Le Petit Triangle does great food spectacularly.  It’s a very french/Cleveland experience.  Dinner takes a long time, as it should, even though the wait staff looks more like off-hour starbucks baristas than professional garcons.  So I’m torn- you know what you’re getting, and it’s not quite how you’d expect to get that.  But once you get it, it will be astounding. 

 

You’ll notice that I left off anything by Michael Symon and Melt.  It’s not that I dislike Michael Symon, and I certainly love Melt.  But I have a strict rule: if Guy Fieri has been there or knows you, I can’t endorse it publically.

-Zack

A Best Picture Prospectus

For the first time in my life, I've seen each of the best picture nominees before the Oscars.  Every other year, going back a little over 5 years, I'd seen a few, maybe as many as half, but never all of them.

That hasn't, of course, stopped me from writing about them, but this year, especially, I'm actually qualified in many ways, with a number of surprises.  So here's my little run-down on each of them, and some predictions/rankings.

Note: I do think Inside Llewyn Davis should have been nominated.  I'm biased toward the Coens, of course, but even so- they've nominated ten in the past, and I don't see how it missed out this year.  That said, it's the last I'll mention it (til perhaps the end). (Rundown in no particular order)

* Captain Philips (Directed by Paul Greengrass)  Captain Phillips is perhaps the most "based on a true story" of what's an entire field of them (literally, in some way, nearly all of them are).  I have not done the work to research the veracity of each movie- that would be a disservice to their artistry- but Captain Phillips feels the most real.  That's probably because it takes place just a few years ago.  Most of the viewers probably remember when Somali pirates took an American freighter captain hostage, leading to an eventual rescue by Navy seals.  Other than having Tom Hanks in it, that's a recipe for an overwrought, poor film in my mind.  But Captain Phillips managed to keep my attention, all the way through.  It rarely dipped into "we're america, we're so great" territory that modern war/action films so often do.  In fact, it actually let the Somalis be humans, and not just bland antagonists.  On top of that, it's incredibly well shot, with some absolutely gorgeous at-sea shots.  The bigness of everything contrasted with the smallness of the humans is pure artistry.  It's probably the second best edited film in the bunch- it is the rare film that uses its editing to create the feeling for the viewer.  So often, even the best films try to bludgeon the viewer with the actual shot's content- not its composition.  Captain Phillips could have done this- and probably well.  But Greengrass actually made a film out of the story, not just a fictionalized, dramatized documentary dedicated to how great our military is.  It was the most surprisingly good movie of the lot.

*American Hustle (Directed by David O'Russell)  There was a time when American Hustle was probably the best picture favorite, but that was a time when we were all a little hopped up on Christmas cheer or something.  It's not a bad movie by any means.  In fact, it's quite good.  But it's really a very well-made, pretty well-acted comedy, and little more.  There's nothing particularly great about it- it's just that there's nothing particularly bad either.  Maybe it's the most perfect movie of the bunch, but it might also be the least interesting from an artistic standpoint.  Sure, Jennifer Lawrence is great and the rest of the cast does not disappoint.  But the plot is a sterilized, glamorized, and predictable take on the 70's disco-heist-steve-mcqueen sort of thing, without the action.   I did enjoy American Hustle, but it's a great sum of its parts, and an average total film.

*Her (Directed by Spike Jonze) A dystopian film where technology reaches frightful heights is nothing new, and likely won't get nominated for best picture any time soon.  But that is exactly where Her went at the outset.  Where it ends up though, is quite separate from its message.  It is easy to read right through Her.  It's a simple movie about how disconnected our technology makes us- I can tell you that from the trailer.  But the romance between Joaquin Phoenix and his OS (Scarlett Johansson)  is actually touching and real in astounding, heartfelt ways.  It is a film about how we long for human contact, but the OS is not a sad replacement.  It's a film much closer to REM's "Everybody Hurts" than The Wachowski's Matrix.  It's more Lost in Translation meets Lars and the Real Girl than Terminator meets Steve Jobs.  If that combination, Lost in Translation +Lars and the Real Girl sounds like an absolutely beautiful study in humanity, you are correct.  And it's not just an incredible and beautiful story and subject matter- it's a beautiful film.  The colors, the landscapes, the close-ups and long-shots- it would be beautiful on mute.

*Dallas Buyer's Club (Directed by Jean-Marc Vallee)  This is the best edited film I've seen in quite some time.  I don't know if it will win the award for that- it's not like it has a lot of special effects or jump cuts.  But it fits together perfectly.  It is an intertwining of characters, issues, plots, and art of the highest order.  It reminded me of Paris, Texas, if that movie were made with Oscar hopes in mind.  Some say the best art shows humanity at its truest.  That could certainly be said of Dallas Buyer's Club- but not just because of its heart-strings, geo-political, global economic-spin.  Those are all worked in- in a lot of ways, it is an issues-movie.  But it's the sort of issue movie that makes you see the world a certain way despite yourself.  That's not to say it strong-arms the viewer- quite the opposite: it simply tells a story of people in a way that makes you feel for them, because they are humans: not because they are people with Aids.  In many ways, it is the anti-Rent.  I like Rent, but this is better.  Much better.  But: It does portray Rayon, the transgender character (Jared Ledo) in a highly stereotypical manner: she's a transgender charicature (that they commonly refer to as "he"...); that's a problem the rest of the film manages to help me overlook.

*Philomena (directed by Stephen Frears)  Before I start, I will say: I enjoyed this movie a lot.  In fact, it's quite emotional and powerful.  But I have no idea how it got nominated.  It's hard to get through without some tears, and it has some genuinely funny moments.  But it is an average piece of art with an overt, over-the-top message it never stops trumpeting.  I am somewhat biased against message movies, and the Academy is somewhat biased toward them- but this is a dressed up documentary, at best. I liked it, I really did.  But it has no place in the best picture race, if the best picture race celebrates excellence in film-as-art-making.  It's not that it's not art-- it's just that it's a few tiers lower than the rest. I can't remember a single memorable shot for anything but the plot happening in it.  That should never be the case with a best picture nominee.

*The Wolf of Wall Street (directed by Martin Scorsesee) Yes, it is controversial (because it's art and not a moral tale..oooh), yes it is long (the longest best picture nominee by nearly an hour).  But it is the most entertaining movie I've seen in a long time.  It is hilarious.  In a way opposite from American Hustle though, it's not just funny situationally or because of the lines: it's actually shot in a way that maximizes the humor.  More than that though, it breathlessly builds up the plot, then breathlessly pulls it all down: it takes 3 hours, but it feels like 3 minutes: it moves at such a clip, there's nothing boring about it, ever.  It is crass, but that's the point.  Leonardo DiCaprio delivers an astounding performance: it's like he was made to play a ruthless, amoral wall street criminal.  Like Her and Captain Phillips, it gives you a true sense, as a viewer, of the manic situation through its editing and angles, not just its shots' content.  I loved this movie.

*Gravity(Directed by Alfonso Cuaron) Before the majority of the rest of the nominees had even made it to most (all?) theaters, I knew Gravity would be nominated.  It has some flaws: there's practically no plot aside from a (very touching) backstory told entirely through lines, with no visual aid.  In a lot of ways, it's just a rote disaster movie, set in space (a sort of realistic space, at least).  But it is the best space movie since 2001. The shots are massive and breathtaking; space is huge and lonely.  It ends well too: that last shot is burned into my memory for life.  In some ways, Gravity is just a spectacle: but film is a visual artform- I'd rather have a shallowly plotted spectacle than a by-the-book fictionalized documentary any day.  Everyone needs to see Gravity once, if possible while it's still in this Oscar revival run in theaters.  I'm not sure seeing it twice is necessary, but it is worth any price to experience, in any way possible.

*Nebraska (Directed by Alexander Payne) If Gravity is the "biggest" film of the bunch, Nebraska is the "smallest."  I think it's a dark comedy about a man who thinks his "you could win 1 million dollars" certificate is legitimate.  But I'm convinced it's a deep meditation on aging in the 21st century, trapped in middle America.  I, of course, have not aged really, not past 26 at least, so I could be wrong.  But it is a story about home and a story about failure.  It's a story more about all of us, ultimately, than most movies ever allow.  It's the exact opposite of escapism, whatever that means.  It's also the obligatory black and white movie this year.  But it's a beautiful black and white.  You might think there's nothing to see in the state of Nebraska, but the landscape shots in this film beg to differ.  Whatever Dallas Buyer's Club is missing from the Paris, Texas analogy, Nebraska delivers.  If either film wins this year, it means Paris, Texas would have run away with the award given this specific set of voters and this field.  It should be noted that if you haven't seen Paris, Texas, you're missing out.

*12 Years a Slave (Directed by Steve McQueen) Back in August, I heard of this movie like people hear of high school quarterbacks on youtube.  It was a legend before it was ever in theaters anywhere near me.  It did not live up to that billing, but that doesn't mean it's not a remarkable film.  It must be said that it shows America what the bloody and horrendous smear Slavery really was on our past- though it does perpetuate the good-slave-owner fallacy to a degree.  That's somewhat unforgivable (See: Beloved by Toni Morrison), but if you get past it, it will break your heart in the right ways.  It does not shy from a single shot.  Perhaps most powerfully, it reminds the viewer how beautiful the American south was and is, and then, reminds them, in the very next shot, that slavery was an ugly and dirty thing.  Maybe that's a metaphor for how great America is as an idea, but how we let slavery exist for 85 years and turned a somewhat blind eye as a nation.  I don't know.  I know I liked it a lot, and I wouldn't be surprised if it won.  But I don't want to hear praise for it from anyone who criticized the racial elements of Django Unchained.  It's the same movie without Tarantino stylization- indeed, Tarantino makes the viewer much more uncomfortable with slavery.  We can't be glad to be uncomfortable with it in the more palatable, less swear-word (but just as many n-word) 12 years a slave, then dog on Django Unchained.  12 Years a Slave lets you believe there are good slave owners.  Django Unchained punishes every single character who at all places themselves above a black person for reasons of race.  If this wins, it means Argo was better than Gravity and Her, because this movie is not better than Django Unchained in any respect, even its message. At least that's what logic says: in reality, it would just be another instance of how we like our movies to shock us with the truth, but not too much.   Even so, 12 Years a Slave is a good movie.  It really is.

Part II: Outcomes

So, how does it all shake out?  I'm not an Oscars voter, and I think most of them don't know how to watch movies.  But I'll give you two lists: one, my rankings (so #1 is who I think should win).  The second, my rankings on likelihood of what I think will happen.

My Perfect World:
9. Philomena (It's just pretty average, really)
8. American Hustle (It's just a really pretty average)
7. Captain Phillips (Tom Hanks is great...it lacks the oomph)
6. Gravity (It's a great spectacle, but does it stand the test of time like a winner should?)
5. 12 Years a Slave (Like I said, it's good- I just prefer Django Unchained)
4. Nebraska (Beautiful, but slightly misses out)
3. Her (If museum curators voted....)
2. The Wolf of Wall Street (It hits on all cylinders for 3 hours: that's its own accomplishment)
1. Dallas Buyers Club (A truly great piece of film-art, its problems with transgender portrayal aside)

What I think Will Happen: Because the world isn't perfect (and it wouldn't be even if I did run the Oscars)

9. Nebraska (just too many old voters, who, ironically enough, would see it as too untraditional)
8. The Wolf of Wall Street (it takes a down year for Scorsessee to win, and that's a shame)
7. Gravity (Sci-Fi doesn't get Oscars)
6. Captain Phillips (Tom Hanks is great, but "the issues!  the issues!"
5. Philomena (You simply don't leave out Inside Llewyn Davis if this didn't get a monstrous amount of votes)
4. Dallas Buyers Club (Aids and homophobia are issues: but no one is going to feel like they're supporting them by voting for this, and that's a shame)
3. Her (Cognitive bias slotting it the same? Maybe.  But ScarJo is powerful)
2. American Hustle (Everyone loves JLaw!)
1. 12 Years a Slave (But not as much as they love sticking it to Tarantino)

I do think 12 Years a Slave wins- it has the biggest mass-appeal across the voting categories, and it absolutely tugs at the heart in ways people can't deny.  I can see people failing to vote for the aids movie or the Catholic-church-is-corrupt movie.  But no one has a good argument for slavery.  So- it's getting to the top of the issue-movie heap.  It's just good enough artistically to carry the rest of the votes.  And Brad Pitt is in it, alongside some other astoundingly good performances.

But I'll be rooting for Dallas Buyer's Club.  It's what I thought was the best movie of the last year.

Note: I would have ranked Inside Llewyn Davis 5th in my list (and Saving Mr. Banks 9th, with Philomena 10th).

Now, we wait and see what happens...
-Zack
"Can't stop thinkin, bout my own breathin
Everytime I wake up I feel"

-Arcade Fire

2013: an Epilogue

I've had this blog since 2008.  That makes this the fifth time my annual recap/best-of post is happening at this location.  That's much more than both my old xanga account, which is no longer available.  The last four editions of this post, however, can be found by looking for dates around the first of each year.

2013 was an interesting year.  I started a new job, I finished my first year of law school, we went back to Savannah, and I became a 2l.  2l year is a lot better than 1l, but law school still consumes life as much as ever.  Until law school is over, my life is largely on pause.  That's how it feels.  But even so, time still keeps going forward.  That's what I like best about 2014- that time still keeps going forward.  I will be halfway done with my last year of law school by the time this year is over.  Right now, I'm merely halfway done with all of law school.  Beautifully though, in 8 days, I'll be more than halfway done.  That's exciting.

Other than that, 2013 was mostly a year where I grew older, hopefully wiser, and more mature.  I've been making these recap posts since I was a senior in high school- it's hard to believe how much I've changed since then.  I think it's been mostly good.

But I don't want this to be a too-too personal 2013 in my life post.  There's some business to get to, which will hopefully help me make sense of the onslaught of meta-cultural phenomena that was 2013.

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The rules are simple: I just pick my favorite thing from the past year in each category.  It doesn't have to have come out in 2013- it just needs to be my favorite thing which I experienced. I think, a few years back, for instance, the Beatles were my band of the year.

But here it is, without much more, my yearly superlatives for 2013, a year defined, against all odds, by the Pope and Miley Cyrus.

Literature:

This is always the category that means the most to me, but it means slightly less this year: I only read 22 books last year.  That's 33 down from my all-time high.  I blame law school, and law school deserves the blame.  But from those 22 books, I did some great reading.

Book of the year: Les Miserables, Victor Hugo.  In stark contrast to the putrid musical movie that came out Christmas 2012, I was in the midst of the unabridged version of the book.  It's long, and when you read as many books at once as I do, it can take a long time to finish.  But it is worth every single page.  Hugo is not the world's best writer, at least in translation.  But his unflinching commentary on the world in the midst of a story for the ages is unmatched.  That's what's so wrong with the musical: Les Miserables tells a fine story of redemption- if that's how you want to read it, and focus on the characters.  But it is not a story of redemption- it is a story of forgiveness and love, and how society's systems find themselves so harshly devoid of those two highest virtues.  It is a story about France and a story about humanity.  Jean Valjean just gets to play a central cameo role.  Both because of how much it took up my time to read it, and because it really is brilliant, there's no way it couldn't be my book of 2013.  It's the rare book that doesn't just make you think, but can actually affect how you think.  And that's great literature, if anything is.
Runner Up: Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk

Author of the Year: Lemony Snicket.  I read a lot of children's books, to keep abreast of what's good for my own future children, and to stay in touch with the heart of narrative.  Most children's books, if nothing else, remind me what it means to tell a story in the most elemental of ways.  But Lemony Snicket does something else.  Sure, he's one of the few authors on my list of read books that appears more than once, so that helps, but he's actually good too.  Very good.  He actually has a voice, like, a breathing, living, tone and voice.  He's the opposite of Avi or Rowling, in that he has a style centered on interesting ways to tell a story, not just getting the story out.  I love Avi, and I love Harry Potter.  But Lemony Snicket is a better writer than both them by scores.
Runner Up: Gustave Flaubert

Motion Pictures:
Law school has similarly limited my ability to watch whole movies, and netflix has opened the door to so much more for me.  It's really a shame.  In many ways, 2013 was the year netflix became an internal part of how I consume motion pictures, be they in film or tv format.  Perhaps netflix gets my corporation of the year, if I had one of those (but I don't and won't.)

Film of the year: Inside Llewyn Davis, The Coen Brothers.  Ok, this is stereotypical and predictable- of course it's the movie the Coen's released right?  Just like it will probably be the Wes Anderson movie for 2014, that's not a surprise.  But beyond that fact that anyone who knows me could have seen that coming for miles, ILD is truly brilliant, in the least brilliant of ways.  It's like the Coens have allowed their apparently (but not really) nihilistic worldview to soften a bit, and thus become all the more potent. That, and they make you feel like you actually are inside of a character without bludgeoning you with it.  That's what I love about the Coens- they let their films speak for themselves, and they are all the more powerful for it.  That's ultimately what separated this from the runner up- that film is spectacular and a spectacle, but the director makes sure you know it, all the way to the end.  I prefer my artists respect me as a viewer.  The Coens are literally the only American filmmakers who actually do that-- and of course, they do it subtly.
Runner-Up: Gravity, Alfonso Cuaron

Television Show of the Year: Breaking Bad. This is a category that I might have cut (thanks, again, to Law School), were it not for netflix.  As it is though, it's as alive and kicking as ever.  In fact, it's probably the best year for it .  It's hard to believe I had maybe seen one episode of Breaking Bad total, this time next year.  If it weren't for netflix, I'd have missed out on one of the most exhilarating 8 weeks I've ever lived.  Every sunday at 9 was not just appointment television- it was appointment living.  Breaking Bad didn't just end this year, it took hold of all things pop culture for those 8 weeks. It might have hurt my grades for all I know- it was literally on my mind as much as anything.  And there was so much hysteria that I gleefully embraced: the pre-caps before the show, recaps after, memes, message boards, etc. etc.- it had us all, for 8 weeks.  And not just any show can do that- but one that shows us all who we all are, somewhere inside-- Breaking Bad is billed appropriately as a story of change, and what is life, but change?   I don't plan to ever cook meth, but I do believe we all make decisions, everyday, that turn us more and more into the person we will end up being- for good or ill.  Breaking Bad encapsulated all of that.  And it was funny, suspenseful, and beautiful at the same time.  It was the best television show I have ever watched.
Runner-Up: Orange is the New Black

Music:

Ah.  The category law school has probably enhanced the most. I actually have plenty of time to listen to music, while I write, read, and drive.  And, for whatever reason, 2013 was the year I rediscovered live concerts- it had been a long time, but last summer and a bit into the fall, I went to quite a few more concerts than I had in years.

Song of the Year: Journey After (War Fatigues), Flobots:  I saw the Flobots live, in June. They've been one of my favorite bands for a long time, largely because they don't change their message.  They don't sell out for anything.  I don't know if they're good enough to actually sell out (apparently Handlebars was, but it seems to have been an anomaly).  I don't remember if they did this song at the concert, but I downloaded their newest album as soon as I got home from the concert.  This song is just ok from a musical standpoint- but it's simply drenched in heartfelt realness: remorse, forgiveness, redemption for us all.  It captures what it means to fall down and get back up.  And that's exactly what I needed, more times than I'd like to admit, in 2013.
Runner-Up: Black Skinhead, Kanye West

Artist of the Year: Kanye West.  And for much more than the music.  Kanye is and will be, for the foreseeable future, one of the single artists I listen to most.  But in 2013, Kanye wasn't just a rapper/producer.  He became a father, he released the most brilliant and bizarre music videos I've ever seen, he proved he's a genius with his ideas and a madman for how he delivered them.  And he still feels disrespected by everyone, and isn't afraid to talk about it.  Miley won the year when it comes to conversation, but Kanye won the year when it comes to actually doing something.  Yeezus was a treat for the cerebral Kanye fan I am, but even more than that, I simply loved 2013 in Kanye, as a person.
Runner Up: Run Boy Run  (for a lot of the same reasons, but in astoundingly different ways)

Album of the Year: So Sang the Whippoorwill, Run Boy Run.  This is one of the bands I saw live, and only because a very drunk friend started e-mailing them in March.  They're from Arizona, but they played a show in Cleveland, and I drove him.  They're very good, and this album is almost perfect in a lot of ways.  I don't know if angels actually sing in heaven or not, but if they do, I'm sure this is what it sounds like :

Runner Up: Aims, Vienna Teng


Sports Team of the Year: Green Bay Packers.  Ugh. 2013 was tough in sports.  As I live Cleveland longer and longer, and root more and more for teams here, it gets harder.  But my none-Cleveland teams are going through less than stellar patches too.  It's great that the Indians got into the pseudo-playoffs, but even more than that, the Packers haven't lost yet.  The Reds are a disappointment because they can't win playoff games.  The Browns suck.  Ohio State had a great 2013 til December.  I couldn't put them in this spot, because they're also the most disappointing thing about 2013 sports.  That and the Cavs.
Runner-up: Cleveland Indians

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So there it is.  Another year down.  Here's to a better 2014.  Further up and further in everyone.

May God bless and keep you in 2014.  I hope we can all meet again soon.

-Zack

"We didn't start the fire, but provide the kindling"
-Flobots

Excuse me while I ascend my ivory tower

It has been a long time since I've posted anything substantial.  That's law school.  We're in the middle of finals right now.  I just had my first this morning- I'm feeling good about it, but feelings are law school finals are never good predictors of anything at all.

As a result though, I'm kind of taking some time away from studying, and I thought I'd weigh in on a bit of pop culture in the only way I know how: as it relates to Kanye West.

About two weeks ago, Kanye released this music video for Bound 2.  It takes about four seconds to find someone ridiculing it and Kanye (mostly Kanye) just about anywhere on the internet.  I'd imagine you can find some deleterious commentary about it in even the comments section of a rhubarb pie recipe at allrecipes.com.  Kanye, as is nothing new, became the internet's horse of the moment, and everyone wanted a ride- if not to go anywhere, at least to use the whip.

Knowing Kanye as I do (which is not at all personally- just as a closely studied auteur, from afar), he's probably taking it very personally, or attributing it to jealousy.  I'm not sure it's either really: I think it's, literally, a lack of education (or at least the right kind of education) on the part of anyone who criticizes it.

That is not to say that you have to like it- I'm not sure I do.  But I am saying you can't just watch it and understand it, especially if you majored in math at a state school and work at Wal-Mart.  Or worse.

You see, Kanye's video for Bound 2 does nothing less than show that he is not just years, but decades, centuries, millennia ahead of the pop culture world.

Some facts you need to know: Bound 2 is the last song on Yeezus.  Yeezus is essentially Kanye's Finnegan's Wake at this point- it proves more that he can do it than that anyone will enjoy it.  I do enjoy it, but more for what it is than how it sounds...very much like Finnegan's Wake.

Another fact: Hip-Hop is, and has been, necessarily post-modern since its inception.  It is an art form driven by collaboration and individuality, celebrated not for individual accomplishment as uniqueness: there's a relatively fine line in this area, between modernism and post-modernism.  The difference is based on the emphasis.  In modern times (the 40s, roughly, for instance), we celebrated what individuals achieved.  In post-modern times, we celebrate that they are individual.  Hip Hop started doing this while Led Zeppelin was still fighting for radio plays because white executives were unwilling to risk jumping format.  It's not just the music (though that's the biggest part- were it not, ODB would not be famous-- he's not the best, but he's unique)-- it's the dance, the DJ, the MC.  Hip-Hop is a tapestry, and was eons before that became a cool thing to be.

But post-modernism does not stop there (actually, it does not start there- hip-hop has simply expressed post-modernism through celebrating individuality).  Post-moderism is, as an ethos, the decentering of all things: values, expectations, reality as we know it.  It is founded and has its form in the (far more honest but much less workable) notion that we use centers because we think we need them, but they do not actually exist.

Kanye famously dropped out of college- but his entire career has and does embody that notion.  From the start, he couldn't get a deal as a rapper because people viewed him as a producer.  Now, he wants to be an architect, to design clothes, etc.: but he can't, because people view him as a rapper.  His entire career has been defined by others, clinging to their personal center of classification: "producers can't rap/rappers can't design clothes" and on and on.  But there is nothing necessarily true about that. Nothing at all.

Bound 2 is a straight perpetuation of expectation-shattering Kanye at his best.  It is the last track on Yeezus.  Other famous last tracks include A Day in the Life by the Beatles, Freebird by Lynyrd Skynard, All You Need is Love, etc.  It's the epic sum-up, the happy note, the grand finale.  Bound 2 is anything but.  It's one of the least serious, most ridiculous songs Kanye has ever released.  Its very structure breaks expectations with the "ah-ha honey" cutting in at all the "wrong times."  Its a song that barely sounds like more than a smattering of unfinished work.  I still like it, because it's largely Kanye's way of saying that he can make even the dumbest crap in the world sound good.

And then- the music video: it takes that very song and applies it to something that's supposed to feel epic: the monstrous long shots, the horses, the open fields.  The song does not "fit" at all.   What's more, when it actually shows Kanye rapping, he's just standing in a poorly lit medium shot, rapping and doing stereotypical rapper hand movements.  There's no plot to the video whatsoever.   The song is not where it "should" be on the album, it's not even what a song "should be" from one of the most successful artists of our day.  To top it all off, it features the comically suggestive motorcycling/sex action with naked Kim Kardashian.

Whether he realizes it or not, the motorcycle portions are the most subversive: he's Kanye, the most ridiculed man in white America, clearly having a relationship with a woman that (as annoying as keeping up with the Kardashians is) most American men would rank, from a pure looks standard, among the most beautiful.  But Kanye has her.  And he does not just have her, he is running away with her, on his motorcycle, and rapping loudly while he does it.  Could much more enrage stereotypical white America further?  The loud, rich black man, running away with a beautiful white woman: and, not just any white woman, but the daughter of a man who got OJ Simpson off for allegedly murdering a white woman?

The anti-misegenation crowd is quiet these days, but a vast portion of American men still cringe a little, when they see a beautiful white woman with a black man-- to the point that they make jokes about it.   It just "looks unnatural" I've often heard, as if that makes it okay.  But that's really the point of Kanye: it only looks unnatural because you insist that anything is natural.

Bound 2 breaks all sorts of unwritten rules, and it takes hip-hop to the next level on the post-modern spectrum.  You don't have to enjoy it to realize that.  Generally though, I suspect that the internet does not realize that- nor even attempt to.  Though I probably strive to see the best in Kanye first (because that's such a crime...seeing the best in someone...), it's almost an unwritten rule amongst white-interneters that Kanye=ridiculous, and so does everything he does.  It's a lie though, a lie rooted in ignorance, and perpetuated by it.  Whether he realizes it or not, Kanye is a consummate artist who pushes boundaries so we can all see that there are no boundaries.  That's the conclusion of my IS: if we don't take time to let ourselves get decentered by art, we never give ourselves a chance to look beyond our parochial worldview.  It's not that Kanye breaks rules.  It's that there are no rules.

So Seth Rogen can parody all he wants- he's just playing to the crowd.  Too often, the very post-modern social networks of today allow us to remain a monoculture, because we are subject to intense and instant group-think.  If you can create the funniest meme the fastest, you get to be celebrated.  IF you can't, you're trolled.  That's pitiful modernist activity if its ever existed.

Kanye is creating art.  We are, unfortunately, as a society, literally too uneducated to realize it.  If something isn't how we think it ought to be, we ridicule it.  If something isn't how we think it out to be, we find a way to ignore it.  The great irony is that, in all of this, we'll have nothing but a bunch of misinformed snide comments to show for it.  Kanye, however, will have done his part to change the world (as crazy as that might sound).

By writing this, I hope I am too.

-Zack

Back to Life, pt. 3

This two-part series turned trilogy has reached its conclusion.  Law school is back in full swing, already 3 days in the books.
2L year, in the trilogy of lawschool years, is supposedly the "work you to death" year, sandwiched between the "scare you to death" and "bore you to death" iterations.  Only three days in, I can see how that's the case, but I've also realized that we've all become adjusted to the work that will be required.

Perhaps its the lack of active scare tactics on the part of the faculty (though I'm not sure how much they ever really existed), but everyone is much less uptight now.  Perhaps it's because we've  stratified around our class ranks.  Perhaps its because we've all realized that even getting here is an accomplishment and moving forward is more important (finally) than being better than everyone else.  1L year is spasmodic.  Everyone thinks they can be ranked number 1.  After first semester, when only one person is, the pressure just intensifies as job interviews begin and summer plans start to formulate.  It even carries into the summer a bit, as people make their claims to journal positions.  But then it dissipates, almost like magic.  I didn't expect the chilled-out demeanor that has drifted over the whole 2L class, but it's more than welcome.  (that being said, I know people are still serious about their careers and the way class-ranks will always control our "destinies."  But it's not controlling us, at least overtly anymore.  Even so, I can't help but think there are probably still a number of people that would more than gladly sell their soul for grades- at least amongst those who managed to maintain it after last year).

Once more, any doubts I've ever had about assuming the legal profession dissipate the moment class begins.  There's a rightness about my place in law school that I'd never known before last year- and its done nothing but grow stronger with affirmation over the past year.  It could be said, and fairly, that I operate much less on the empirical and make my decisions based on intuited feelings.  To that end, I've been right about few things like I was about going to law school.  It's far from easy, its wholly consumptive, and it requires (or creates) a certain measure of neuroses, but its the place for me- and when it is over, legal practice, or something else to which law school leads me will be too.

In many ways, it feels like life is on hold until May 2015, while I bide my time and plough my allotted plot with an eye to the future.  But on the other hand, there's little about this life, at least for the three years I'm committed to it, that I'd want to give up.  Cleveland-Marshall is just another weigh-station on the route- but so was Wooster, so was Hillsdale, so was the Curry House.  But were it not for each of those places, I'd have missed the others and all that came with them.

As much it might seem to me that I'm biding my time and putting in my work until my three years are up, I'd be remiss to ignore the potential that simply being here holds.  My life is not on hold for three years while I'm in law school.  For three years, law school is very much what my life is.

And ultimately, it is good.  There's little else for which I could ask.  Law is a field of professionals and thus, law school draws the upwardly mobile- there's a certain bend toward the next, bigger and better thing at every turn.  But if I get caught up in that, I'll let what may be three of the most enjoyable years of my life pass me by.  In some ways, I may look back on these as three of the hardest years of my life for any number of reasons- and not all of them because of school.  But I.S. was far from easy- and my senior year at Wooster was nothing if not glorious.  Life is difficult.  Humans, us, we don't want difficulty.  But its rare if we don't find the most value in coming through it- and finding the joy in the midst of it is always so much greater than never fighting through.   (ed.: this is not meant to support the boilerplate response to tragedy which tries to turn great loss of life or war or any other uncontrollable circumstances that we encounter-- I don't believe it's ever good (no matter the good that may arise, by the grade of God) when people die or families fall apart-- I'm speaking specifically about creative and constructive struggles)

I don't know when I'll get a chance to write again- but I hope it's sooner rather than later.  In the meantime, if you don't hear from me, it's just law school, sapping every bit of me out again- but I know that means its exactly as it ought to be.

-Zack

"I'm saying nothing in the past or future ever will feel like today"
-Bright Eyes

Verdant.

When I first spent real time in Cleveland, Spring Break 2007, the Putnam County, Ohio raised farm boy felt as out of place as one might expect.

When I say first, I really mean "first."  By the end of that week, I was consummately in love with the city.  But initially, it just felt so unnatural.

Wooster was a bigger city than I'd ever lived since leaving Cincinnati at 4.  Now I was in Cleveland, supposedly learning about what exactly was going on in the city.  But I had never been around seemingly so few plants.  As goofy as that might sound, the endless concrete, the lack of farmland, the short horizons, the seemingly unending buildings took me out of what I considered my "comfort zone" in ways I'd never experienced.  By all measures, I'd never experienced such a powerful aura purely from my physical surroundings.

A lot of things happened that week, perhaps the most significant being a reordering of my thinking which allowed me to see city's as full of life, not devoid of it.

Now, 6 years later, every single day, I can't believe how green Cleveland actually is.  There are so many parks, so many random outgrowths of trees, so many urban farms, so many marshy shores around the lake and river.    Cleveland is called the "forest city" traditionally (though you'll rarely hear that nationally)- if you look at it from the right angles, it's obvious as to why- Cleveland was hewn out of a forest and it still maintains that general feel.

It is a major urban setting, and its far from the rural flat land in which I grew up.  But there's something to be said for its natural beauty that does persist, right alongside all of the vibrant life emanating from it due to its diverse, beautiful population.    I took a few pictures on my ride home today.  It was one of those beautiful "Cleveland" days, where there's sunlight, but it's overcast, and you know the clouds are made of pure metaphor.

You could say I've come full circle.
-Zack
"In the caverns of tomorrow with just our flashlights and our love, we must plunge we must plunge we must plunge"
-Bright Eyes

Blank Ruminations

In one week, 7 hours, and 23 minutes (give or take the time it takes me to write the rest of this), I'll be on the road again, headed south, back to Savannah.

In 10 hours and 23 minutes, from right now (give or take again), I'll be ostensibly finished with my time as a "summer" clerk at Sherwin-Williams, transitioning into my part time hours for the school year-- at the end of the day today, I'll have finished my final full week of work.

I have learned a lot this summer about the legal practice and what it means to be a lawyer.

A lot of it is interesting to the interested, but broadly, I've learned that it is not only easy to grow complacent in pursuit of "the good life," but it is nearly mandatory in the legal field.

It's not a secret that the "noblest" legal jobs pay little or at least less.  I had been under the impression that the less noble jobs could be leveraged for good, and to a degree they can.  But in the end, being a corporate dog is being a corporate dog.

The legal field is unique in that your job consists of one of two things: fighting for something you wholeheartedly believe in, or suspending your own ideals in the name of the higher ideal of advocacy and representation.  That's, also, is no secret to anyone.

But I've learned this summer that, at some point, no matter which of the dualistic roles you're filling, you're going to begin to absorb the values implicated by your situation.  What I mean by that is really simple: if you are suspending your ideals in order to defend a party in the wrong (and the lion's share of corporate legal work is just that), your values invariably start to shift.  It's not as possible to give fair representation to a party, no matter your own beliefs, as lawyers like to let on.  This should seem obvious, but lawyers like to act like superheroes who get paid for their shapeshifting, above all else.

But it's not true.  Lawyers are either adapting to the values of their client, or growing increasingly despondent.  There's a vast middle ground, where everyone really dwells- but the process rolls on forward- we are becoming one or the other.

I cannot, unfortunately, give any really specific examples from my own experience.  But I can cite some common knowledge:  plaintiffs lawyers tend to stay plaintiffs lawyers, while defense do the opposite-- and in the criminal law world, defense-minded attorneys typically don't make the flip to prosecutors.  Other than the need for a job, it's rare that an attorney has much motivation to pick a side at the beginning.  But then, at some point, their particular path begins to define their career and, much of the time, their personality.

There probably is something innate about specific individuals that leads them to one side or the other.  But I've now seen people who, in law school and prior, were raging against the machine as much or more than myself, now oiling it and feeding it daily.

Much of law comes down to money.  It would be easy to attribute it all to greed and move on.  But it's not just greed- there's a very real need to support one's family, after all, and it's not altogether evil to desire life's comforts when they're affordable and non-exploitive.

But there's very little about the way lawyers make money in the private sector which does not have some kind of exploitive opportunity cost at least.

The "best" firms only accept the "smartest" students, with the "highest grades."  That's their prerogative, but it means the entire law school world is beholden to firms that do nothing but protect huge corporations.  That means, at the end, that we, law students, are striving to be able to apply and work and the sorts of places that ensure corporate greed persists.  No matter your initial goal in coming to law school, the well-performing student will invariably look like a slacker, flawed interviewer, or not all that well-performing, by choosing to pursue a better path.

Law school shames you into corporate defense.

I should add that I do not dislike my summer job.  Indeed, it's good, and it's a great experience.  But it's so far from what I want my eventual legal-career-path to look like.  I know that now more than ever, and without it, I wouldn't.  I am thankful for that.  Sherwin-Williams, as big corporations go, really is a pretty good company for which one could work- and it's always going to be a bright resume spot.

But even in that litany, I realize that I- my future success- is the center.  If nothing else, even if you aren't as borderline Marxist as I am, it is hard to look past the self-preservationist nature of the corporate world.  It's all about making your own money.  That is a disease much bigger than legal practice.  That is the disease that has been destroying souls since money was invented- and probably prior.  As I said above, there's nothing wrong with providing for one's family or being comfortable in life.  But there is something very wrong in orienting your entire life around yourself by way of your bank account.  It does not matter what field or job you have.  That has always been the case.

But it is apparent and celebrated in the world of corporate law.

I probably cannot turn the tide on my own.  I doubt, when I retire, little will have changed.  But if everyone allows that sort of thinking to quelch their motivation, there will never be change.  While I cannot guarantee change (I gave that up May 2012), I can guarantee that I won't stop fighting for it.  Let everyone else have all the money- I've something much better for which to strive.

-Zack
"OG is one who's standing on his own feet"
-Rick Ross

Back to Life (pt. 2)

In a bit under two weeks, we're heading back to Savannah, for the second year of vacation there.  Somehow, probably divine providence, the hotel deals and the proximity to both a beach and Cleveland were unparalleled when we looked at our vacation desires and options.  

You may remember some discussion last year about how much I loved our time in Savannah.  I can't wait to get back this year.  

But I'm also looking forward to getting away for awhile.  

It has been a good, but very full summer.  I have learned a lot about law, about being a lawyer, about the world, about Cleveland, about myself.  

Clerking at Sherwin-Williams is a good job, a very good summer law job, an excellent, unique experience, and quite the mark on a resume.  I am definitely glad for it, but it will be nice to have a bit of time to relax before diving back into law school again August 19th.  

Likewise, it will be nice not to be in Cleveland for a week or so.  

I make it no secret that I love Cleveland and would not pick a different place to live the bulk of my life for anything.  But loving Cleveland is a full time job in its own right.  Though there are plenty of great things to do in Cleveland, it's not those things that make me love Cleveland.  Those are certainly things to love about Cleveland, but New York, Chicago, and Columbus all have great restaurants, museums, concerts, and sports teams too-- more and better, to some degree.  Loving the "good things" about Cleveland is not, in its own right, loving Cleveland.  Loving that Cleveland has all of those things and wanting to be here because of it comes closer.  But there is so much more to it than that.  

Because restaurants, malls, and sports teams come and go, to a certain extent.  Love, to be love, must be more than that.  Inasmuch as it's possible to love a city in a way that mirrors love for another person, there's got to be something more.  That's the difference between liking someone you have a crush on because of the way the sunlight plays upon her hair, and loving her despite her insecurities and obsessive tendencies.  

Love is complicated, and I'm far from an expert- but what I do know is that, at its core, it is a choice and commitment beyond the face-value traits- in so many ways, its an indescribable rhythm that fits together between two individuals, and remains, no matter the trappings otherwise.  

Despite that eternal rhythm, love is not always easy.  Loving Cleveland, for all the ways it feels like the place I belong, the place I fit, and the ways I fit into it, with all of its intricacies, tensions, and spirit, is a non-stop chore that can weigh so heavily on me, all of the time.  Riding the train downtown everyday, I see all of Cleveland- the fortress-shaped down town consuming the streams of people coming to work, right alongside the people on the train with nowhere particular to go- because their last job was a long time ago, and their next job might not exist.  

Cleveland is the most interesting place I have ever been, but that does not imply that its all good.  It is poverty and determination, amazing food at world-class restaurants and wide-spread hunger.  It is small art-deco skyscrapers built by millionaires, now vacant and derelict. It is east and west- the strongly divided rich east-side suburbs against the poor east-side itself, and the urban-appalachian poverty of the west-side mixed with hipsters of the highest order.  

And I love it.  I love all of it, and I love the people here.  I love that they are here, for one, even if they want to leave.  And I love that Cleveland is on the rebound, the renaissance, the rebirth.  

But it is such a long road.  And I love being a part of it.  

It is so rarely easy though, and it is time to take a reprieve.  It is right and good, I know it is, that so much of my life- from my career path to my grocery-shopping choices attempt to orient themselves for the good of Cleveland.  

But I have to get out sometimes, to recharge and to remember.  Savannah is largely the antithesis of Cleveland, at least for me.  Though I love being in Savannah, and I may casually say "I love Savannah," its far from the same.  

I cannot wait for vacation, I cannot wait to refuel and recharge.  But I also can't wait for that feeling I invariably get, every time I come back to Cleveland after awhile away, the feeling of home and rightness, that I've returned to the place I know I am supposed to be, that I belong here-- that somehow, my own life is tied to the fate of this city, for better or worse.  Nowhere else is like that- getting to live here is a blessing with an ubiquitous responsibility.  I would not have it any other way.  

But for the time I am in Savannah, it will be nice to put it on pause.

-Zack
"Strange how this journey's hurting
In ways we accept as part of fate's decree"
-Vienna Teng