Five Dollar Media Journal

The Victoria's Secret commercial discussed in class (which I also just saw a moment ago) reminded me of a post I made a while ago:

Victoria with the Secret (I call it Vicky's) asks me, "what is sexy?" I figure now that it's probably what makes comedy comedic: perceived intention. Earlier, I came to the conclusion that anything, expressed in the right context, is funny. So it seems with sexiness. Everything from a certain manner of looking around to wading naked in a pool of crimson petals are sexy in some way, honey on the side.

The important thing is not how one presents themself, but how another (or even the same person) receives the presentation. It may take an overt attitude to affect someone ignorant of subtleties, or just proper timing. And occasionally, all it takes is a mischievous thought to turn a lover hot. Of course, it helps if the intention is geared towards attraction and the response is allowed. That would make things easy, though...

Anyhow, the one touch I really like is the brief sihlouette suggesting that the lingerie model isn't alone. Some would argue that "sexy" would warrant a female visitor rather than a male one.

Comcast can't provide me with excellent service because they don't have connections to my apartment. Fine, but why mention that two of my roommates can? Because it is such a fucking burden to install a link from their box at the roadside to the access points at the side of the house. They might have charged me a fee to send out a tech to screw in a wire; after all, two before me had done so. However, I made the mistake of asking only for basic service.

By refusing to help expand AT&T's Comcast's digital cable monopoly, I am considered worthless. It's no one's responsibility to provide me, a public citizen, with a quality public service. Perhaps I am better off not watching television (without broadcast static). Otherwise, I might become a valuable consumer! *gasp*

Noah hasn't watched much Blue's Clues since the VCR broke. In better days, he pleaded to watch the recorded videos non-stop. He has memorized the script and blocking for many of the shows. He learned many names, numbers, and songs from the show; the "Blue's Crew" attests to the importance of the show's format in a special feature on the Blue's Big Musical DVD. (Such a structure was also important to the late Fred Rogers.)

Without access to his library of recordings, I wonder how Noah is doing. Is he better off without his immediate craving? What is he missing by being "deprived" of such potent programming? Do Dinah and Silvestre miss having their TV viewing commandeered by their son?

As I mentioned earlier, he is a fan of many cooking shows. He has obviously shifted his habit from the pastel world of children's TV to the engaging content on the Food Network. Like Alton Brown's cooking tips, this makes perfect sense in afterthought. Cooking shows have the same mirage of personal interaction as children's programming does. They address us with a sense of awareness absent from story-driven material such as dramas, sports, and cartoons. They also address us in a manner that encourages our involvement, as opposed to news broadcasts, talk shows, and game shows.

Noah may not yet be able to fillet rock cod or use a food processor, but I feel that he gets a similar experience from Food Network as he does from Nickelodeon.

Good Eats is one of my favorite cooking shows, and perhaps a great television show in general. Alton Brown goes about preaching cooking technique in some ingenious ways. It has the feel of those classic children's science shows, but extends their practicality by applying academic priniciples to the kitchen. Alton seems eclectic in his ways, drafting the most interesting, if not the best, ways of performing even the most basic of tasks.

Last night's episode was about the crafting of a fine steak. He prefers cuts of strip steak, and went so far as to dress stage hands in a cow costume to illustrate their origin and where the tender pieces of beef are. The proper way to slice a steak was demonstrated with a bundle of garden hose segments wrapped in plastic—these represented the fibers in connective tissue that break down with applied heat and a sharp knife. According to Alton, one of the best ways to grill a steak is directly on the coal bed. Seems strange, but the desired effect is to reduce flare-ups while maintaining direct heat.

Good Eats employs some novel camera work for a cooking show. Shots are taken from inside appliances, at close range, from a "personal" point-of-view, and wherever else Alton feels they will help the viewer. The show also has some genuinely funny moments, partly from his sense of humor, partly from the initial absurdity of the methods he uses. Along with the remarkable Iron Chef, Good Eats represents a fresh direction for Food Network. Brown's is definitely a different mode of cooking, distinguishable from Emeril Lagasse's show that precedes it.

My 2-year old nephew Noah immediately recognizes Lagasse's voice whenever he hears it on the television, and refuses to allow anyone to change the channel until the show has finished. Noah can't pronounce Emeril's name just yet, so he refers to him as "Bam!". The vivid graphics of the Food Network are similarly distinctive, causing my nephew to utter something similar sounding to his little boy mind.

The way Noah takes so readily to Food Network programming reminds me of how modern food packaging tends to rely on bright colors and clean design to attract and retain customers. Ironically enough, I probably learned this from FN's Unwrapped series, which seems to me half informative, half commercial. Many of the shows have a definite continuity of format that appeals to his mind, and maybe mine as well.