‘Serial’ and the Other Side of the Hype

If you don’t know what ‘Serial’ is by now, you’re probably not a tenant of the internet. It’s a podcast, a true crime story told in installments that has put the term ‘podcast’ on the tip of everyone’s tongue, never mind the fact that there’s nothing new about true crime stories, crime stories set in Baltimore, stories told in installments, narrative arcs, podcasts, or listening.

As of the last couple of episodes, I’ve started to sour on ‘Serial.’ For one, they were boring. But I’ve become increasingly uncomfortable with basking in the details of a case where, if nothing else, someone’s daughter died. Frankly, I’ve never been all that comfortable with the Team Edward/Team Jacob-esque “Is Adnan guilty?!” speculation, when Occam’s Razor seems to have that answer already, to say nothing for a jury and a judge. And as a writer, I’ve been able to see the, pardon the pun, writing on the wall for a handful of episodes now—there is going to be little in the way of a happy ending, or even a payoff for listening. And anyone who has spent any amount of time listening to This American Life should have seen that as well. I wonder if the producers of ‘Serial’ are prepared for that backlash?

But this morning, I became aware of a new undercurrent to the show’s mostly positive reception—the clashing of the worldviews of Sarah Koenig, the woman reporting/telling the story, and the people she is reporting on. Jay Caspian Kang, in his piece “‘Serial’ and White Reporter Privilege,” writes:

The accumulation of Koenig’s little judgments throughout the show—and there are many more examples—should feel familiar to anyone who has spent much of her life around well-intentioned white people who believe that equality and empathy can only be achieved through a full, but ultimately bankrupt, understanding of one another’s cultures. Who among us (and here, I’m talking to fellow people of color) hasn’t felt that subtle, discomforting burn whenever the very nice white person across the table expresses fascination with every detail about our families that strays outside of the expected narrative? Who hasn’t said a word like “parameters” and watched, with grim annoyance, as it turns into “immigrant parents?” These are usually silent, cringing moments – it never quite feels worth it to call out the offender because you’ll never convince them that their intentions might not be as good as they think they are.

Now, I’m not writing this, or linking to Kang’s story, or the responses, because I agree or disagree with his take; (although, the people who I’ve talked to about the show will probably know how I feel. Hint: vindicated.) I’ll let you be the judge. Because maybe you agree with Lindsay Beyerstein, who wants to know why there’s “a cottage industry of think pieces dedicated to making us feel guilty about liking Serial?” Or maybe you agree with Jaime Green’s “The Problem With the Problems With Serial,” although I would hesitate against it, since it’s kind of lacking in substance, as Jay Caspian Kang points out here. Finally, maybe you agree with Julia Carrie Wong’s “The Problem With ‘Serial’ And The Model Minority Myth,” who takes a different track from Kang, but still raises concerns about the treatment of race in ‘Serial.’

What I do know is this—Liberals/Democrats often take Republicans/Conservatives to task for a lack of diversity in their chosen leadership. Well, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander, so I ask: does this look like the ideal team to dive deep into a complex story where race and religion are obvious factors, there are no white main characters, and it all takes place in a city that is 63% black?

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Complex Interviews Wale and Jerry Seinfeld—At the Same Time

Joe La Puma:

Q: Do you read your Twitter mentions and look at hate?

JS: Yeah. It has no substance for me. It’s like when somebody has a cigarette and they blow the smoke in your face. It’s going to be gone in two seconds. I don’t care. [Looks at Wale.] Oh, he’s upset. [Laughs.]

W: I handle it differently. It’s different!

JS: Why do you give these people meaning?

W: I don’t know, Jerry. I don’t know.

JS: You don’t have to! It’s your choice.

W: I try to rationalize with people. Like, “Why do you feel this way?”

JS: Who cares!?

W: I don’t know. Nine times out of 10, when I respond, I just want to find out what’s the root of it. Somebody says, “If I fuck with him, he’s gonna react.” What then? Did you win any money? Did your life become better? Why would you do that? Why is this entertaining to you? I just don’t understand why.

JS: Yeah, well I have a terrace at my apartment and it’s fantastic. You have to come see it sometime. Every time I go out on that terrace I think, Maybe I’ll jump. [Wale laughs.] Because if I jump, the list of things I don’t have to do is so long, the issues I don’t have to deal with. All I have to do is jump and everything is taken care of! Now, I don’t jump. But I don’t care to know why I want to jump. What’s the difference why? The mind is not that great.

Be sure to watch all of the videos as well.

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Tommy Carcetti—For President?

Molly Ball:

Martin O’Malley ought to be a Democrat’s dream candidate. In two terms as the governor of Maryland, he’s ushered in a sweeping liberal agenda that includes gay marriage, gun control, an end to the death penalty, and in-state college tuition for undocumented immigrants. He’s trim and handsome; he plays in an Irish rock band; he even served as the basis for a character on The Wire (sort of—more on that in a minute). He shows great zeal for improving things both large and small: during a recent visit to the Light House, a homelessness-prevention center in Annapolis that provides job training and other assistance, he said that he had, as governor, taken the state’s traditional Day to Serve and made it 17 days long. “I really enjoy progress, and making progress, and my joy comes from understanding that it happens one life at a time,” he told me, reflecting on the center’s work.

Remember this guy, remember his name. I’m not saying he’s the one, but he’s definitely going to get a seat at the table.

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Why Podcasts Are Suddenly ‘Back’

Marco Arment:

The story of podcasts suddenly being “back” strongly suggests, and mostly requires, that they had been big at one time and had since gone away. That New York Magazine article even cites a “bottom” time: 2010. But that never really happened.

Podcasts in 2010 were a lot like podcasts in 2007, which were a lot like podcasts in 2004, which are a lot like podcasts in 2014. There’s a lot of tech shows (and a lot of tech listeners), but most of the biggest are professionally produced public-radio shows released as podcasts, with other strong contingents in comedy, business, and religion, followed by a huge long tail of special interests with small but passionate audiences.

All I ask is that anyone who is suddenly into podcasts because of Serial give this a read.

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The Same River Twice: Stenothermal Waters and the Remorseless Flow of Time

David Quammen:

Once, for a stretch of years, I lived in a very small town on the bank of a famous Montana river.  It was famous mainly for its trout, this river, and for its clear water and its abundance of chemical nutrients, and for the seasonal blizzards of emerging insects that made it one of the most rewarding pieces of habitat in North America, arguably in the world, if you happened to be a trout or a fly-fisherman.  I happened to be a fly-fisherman.

A friend sent this essay to me. All he wrote in his email was, "A nice little bedtime story, a very nice story.” He forgot to include how this is quite possibly a perfect piece of writing. What a joy to read.

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I Will No Longer Keep Silent: I Can’t Stand Dave Grohl, Either

Robert Summerlin:

There is no doubt that Grohl deserves respect for his work with one of the most important rock bands to ever make music, but calling the Foo Fighters rock ‘n’ roll is like calling Olive Garden authentic Italian food.

With a new documentary on HBO, an accompanying Foo Fighters album, and a recent piece on “60 Minutes” that began with Anderson Cooper saying “The Foo Fighters may be America’s best rock n’ roll band,” it’s time to rethink Grohl and the Foo Fighters.

It’s taken me a long, long time to admit this publicly—and if I’m being totally honest, I’ve thought it, in one form or another, since I first heard all of the songs besides the singles on The Foo Fighter’s eponymous 1995 album—but now that I have, it feels like a weight has been lifted.

/via Michael Ahn

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Kim Jong-il’s Sushi Chef

Adam Johnson:

All the men wore military uniforms except for one imperious fellow in a casual sports tracksuit. This man was curious about the fish. He asked Fujimoto about the marbled, fleshy cuts he was preparing.

"That's toro," Fujimoto told him.

For the rest of the night, this man kept calling out, "Toro, one more!"

The next day, Fujimoto was talking to the mamasan of his hotel. She was holding a newspaper, the official Rodong Sinmun, and on the front page was a photo of the man in the tracksuit. Fujimoto told her this was the man he'd just served dinner.

"She started trembling," Fujimoto said of the moment he realized the man's true identity. "Then I started trembling."

The man in the tracksuit invited Fujimoto back to make more sushi. Fujimoto didn't speak Korean, so he had a government-appointed interpreter with him at all times. At the end of the evening, a valet handed the interpreter an envelope.

"From Jang-gun-nim," the valet said.

Perhaps the reason Fujimoto hadn't known he'd been serving Kim Jong-il was because "no one ever called him by his real name," Fujimoto said. "Never."

I’m an hour out from having a 19 month-old puke pomegranate arils and Tylenol and milk all over me, so I can’t really remember why or where I found this, but here it is. As I read, I had to stop and keep reminding myself that, according to the author, anyway, this was all true.

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‘Orpheus and Eurydice,’ Auguste Rodin

Arcade Fire fans will recognize the above image, which is via The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Online Collection. If you like, we can find a nice summary of the myth on Wikipedia:

Eurydice was the wife of Orpheus, who loved her dearly; on their wedding day, he played joyful songs as his bride danced through the meadow. One day, Aristaeus saw and pursued Eurydice, who stepped on a viper, was bitten, and died instantly. Distraught, Orpheus played and sang so mournfully that all the nymphs and deities wept and told him to travel to the Underworld to retrieve her, which he gladly did. After his music softened the hearts of Hades and Persephone, his singing so sweet that even the Erinyes wept, he was allowed to take her back to the world of the living. In another version, Orpheus played his lyre to put Cerberus, the guardian of Hades, to sleep, after which Eurydice was allowed to return with Orpheus to the world of the living. Either way, the condition was attached that he must walk in front of her and not look back until both had reached the upper world. Soon he began to doubt that she was there, and that Hades had deceived him. Just as he reached the portals of Hades and daylight, he turned around to gaze on her face, and because Eurydice had not yet crossed the threshold, she vanished back into the Underworld. When Orpheus later was killed by the Maenads at the orders of Dionysus, his soul ended up in the Underworld where he was reunited with Eurydice.

And while we’re at it, we can also watch clever fan-made lyric videos for the two songs that Arcade Fire wrote to cover both sides of the story:

“Awful Sound (Oh Eurydice)”:

and “It’s Never Over (Hey Orpheus)”:

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The Boy from Jurassic Park’s College Application Essay

Julia Drake:

However, my experience on the park was more than a simple voyage of academic discovery. It was also a complicated and profound transition into adulthood. I overcame copious obstacles such as surviving a Tyrannosaurus rex attack, escaping from a treed car, and being electrocuted by a high-voltage fence. Overcoming these obstacles required great courage and also newfound maturity. Indeed, the adult traits I acquired surviving dinosaurs will make me an enthusiastic and passionate member of a college community, whether I brave a Friday night dance or experiment in a new discipline, such as figure drawing.

Pretty, pretty—pretty—pretty good.

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David Foster Wallace’s Syllabus For English 183D: Creative Non-Fiction Workshop

David Foster Wallace:

Description of Class

English 183D is a workshop course in creative nonfiction, which term denotes a broad category of prose works such as personal essays and memoirs, profiles, nature and travel writing, narrative essays, observational or descriptive essays, general-interest technical writing, argumentative or idea-based essays, general-interest criticism, literary journalism, and so on. The term’s constituent words suggest a conceptual axis on which these sorts of prose works lie. As nonfiction, the works are connected to actual states of affairs in the world, are “true” to some reliable extent. If, for example, a certain event is alleged to have occurred, it must really have occurred; if a proposition is asserted, the reader expects some proof of (or argument for) its accuracy. At the same time, the adjective creative signifies that some goal(s) other than sheer truthfulness motivates the writer and informs her work. This creative goal, broadly stated, may be to interest readers, or to instruct them, or to entertain them, to move or persuade, to edify, to redeem, to amuse, to get readers to look more closely at or think more deeply about something that’s worth their attention. . . or some combination(s) of these. Creative also suggests that this kind of nonfiction tends to bear traces of its own artificing; the essay’s author usually wants us to see and understand her as the text’s maker. This does not, however, mean that an essayist’s main goal is simply to “share” or “express herself” or whatever feel-good term you might have got taught in high school. In the grown-up world, creative nonfiction is not expressive writing but rather communicative writing. And an axiom of communicative writing is that the reader does not automatically care about you (the writer), nor does she find you fascinating as a person, nor does she feel a deep natural interest in the same things that interest you. The reader, in fact, will feel about you, your subject, and your essay only what your written words themselves induce her to feel. An advantage of the workshop format is that it will allow you to hear what twelve reasonably intelligent adults have been induced to think and feel about each essay you write for the course.

I’m starting to wonder if the real written treasure that D.F.W. left behind is his syllabi.

/via The Howling Fantods

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