"Never Underestimate the Power of Stupid People in Large Groups"

Today, I read this article and some of the comments surrounding it, and I have to say that it riles me up.

Changing "Sci-Fi" to "Syfy" is quite possibly the most ridiculous change in branding I have come across in my 23 years of existence. Supposedly, their focus group says that it is similar to how the channel would "text," but honestly, it makes me think of syphilis. Not exactly an appealing notion to market your network on. It's also clearly a step in "broadening" the appeal of the network for a "more mainstream" audience.

What happened to the concept of loyalty in this country? To fidelity? To fit into a niche and supporting a small but very loyal following? Why is every product dumbed down to the lowest common denominator (ECW Wrestling, reality TV, etc.)? The entire purpose of cable TV was to create content for these niche audiences, content that wouldn't be found on the networks, but now, in the midst of a conglomerated culture that has sought to be all things to all people in an effort to post the most profit in the least amount of time, diversity is considered nothing more than an impediment to dividends. They want babys and grandmas (but most especially those Generation X-ers in-between) to watch everything at every time for maximum revenue generation. It's not about long-term loyalty and all about short-term profit margins -- the same bullshit mentality that has brought this country's economy to its knees.

Personally, I have a hard time believing that "Syfy" was rigorously vetted through focus groups. Sure, you can trademark it, but that doesn't make it intelligent or appealing. I see only syphilis.

It should be a hit for the kids.

The other mass stupidity on my mind today is this constant scapegoating of the media. No matter if you're a lefty-loony or a righty-tighty, the media is always biased to the other side if what they report doesn't subscribe to your viewpoint. Right now, if Obama is praised or defended, it's the liberal elite media. If he's criticized or if Bush is defended, it's the corporate shill mainstream media. I'm not saying that there's no validity to such complaints, but to simply dismiss all the media because one article or reporter apparently takes a stand different that your own is sophomoric at best and schizophrenic at worst.

To my mind, the fact that both sides can complain suggests that SOMETHING must be right; if one side were always ignored, there might be some validity, but everyday the media is presented as both; even the same network can be accused of being "Obamabots" or "rethuglicans" at the SAME TIME. If anything, the problem is that the media is incompetant, having lost sight of reporting the truth and is instead more interested in "gets" and generating maximum ratings -- another casualty of the modern corporate culture. It is perfectly natural to disagree with the media's spin, perhaps even preferable. We shouldn't resort to namecalling and generalization simply due to disagreements. Calling out a specific person or article, that's fair, but a blanket dismissal is intellectually lazy.

We've got to end this entire "more is more" corporate stupidity in this country, wanting all with us now and forgetting about the long haul. Whether it's crushing a niche market or devaluing alternative points-of-view, this mentality is undermining the fabric of America. We were meant to disagree, to listen to varied opinions, and to enjoy different leisures. These differences are what keeps our society dynamic and in balance; without them, we will become stagnant and "drown" in our own filth. We can break off into smaller, more concentrated groups, whether it be the Green Party or a gang of geeks settling down for a Star Trek marathon. That way, when we all mingle at work or the neighborhood barbecue, the interactions will be all the richer for it.

Smarter, smaller, more diverse trains of thought for all!

Goodbye, Andy

At the service last week, I was unable to speak. I've written this post to serve as my eulogy for Andy.

When Mom died almost eight years ago, it was a severe blow to our family. It personally sent me into a such a state of denial and depression that for six months I truly believed it to be some sort of twisted practical joke and was incapable of talking about it for any length of time (to anyone) for over two years. The one major positive that came out of that ordeal was that it forced Andy, my little brother, and I to get over some of our petty sibling squabbles and be there for each other. That's not to say we never fought after that, but there was always a sense that we could count on one another whenever the going got rough or when one of us needed a quick laugh. We were brothers, and no matter what life would throw at us, we knew that we would help each other get through it.

Which is why when I received a phone call early in the morning two Sundays ago, I didn't just get the news that no big brother wants to hear; I got the absolutely worst and most horrible news possible:

Andy had died.

He had just turned 21 in January. He'd finally found a major he was interested in. He was so happy. So young. There was so much that he had yet to do with his life, so much to see. There was so much for us to do together -- weddings, crashing Hollywood parties, cross-country road trips, and undoubtedly more rides at Cedar Point.

The coroners determined he suffered a brain hemorrhage in his sleep early Saturday morning, probably caused by a seizure, a lingering side-effect of when he was attacked near Ohio State's campus over a year ago. I can't help but see that as a form of murder.

The two weeks that have passed have been grueling for me as I've soared highs, trying to interpolate what's been taken, and plunged depths, drowning as I attempted to fathom what's been lost. I've found solace in great friends, both in my own and in Andy's; knowing how well he was loved, despite his youth, has been a great comfort, but it has also been a source of sorrow.

When I think of Andy, his constant smiles and laughter spring instantly to mind. He always searched for the levity in everything, and I can't think of a moment when he wished ill on anyone. Rather the opposite, he often expressed concern or sympathy for those around him, always wanting to lighten the mood. Between spouting non sequiturs and using his goofy laugh, he almost always succeeded. I can't express how many boring afternoons spent at home Andy saved by simply being Andy, or how many holiday dinners, or car rides, or summer afternoons raking the lawn.

I never told him this, but I consider Andy to be a better person than I am. I'm shy to a fault, even among friends, withdrawn, introspective, and in constant need of barriers in some misguided attempt to protect myself. But Andy, he was exuberant and uplifting, happiest amongst others and always eager to laugh and comfort. Not to say he was faultless, as none of us are, but surely Andy's flaws as a person number far less than my own. And I'm proud he lived this way, and eternally grateful. I hope that one day I can be as open and as warm and as good a person as my brother.

Going home for his funeral was the hardest thing I've ever had to do because he wasn't there to cheer me up. I can't imagine what going back in the future will be like, after the reality of this loss has fully sunken in, but I know that not a day will go by in which I won't wish I had Andy to talk to. To laugh with. Our whole lives, we've been Aaron and Andy; now I'm alone.

Goodbye, Andy. I could really use a good laugh right now. I miss you so much, but I hope that you're with Mom and you're happy, and that someday we all will see each other again. Until then, know that your big brother loves you very much.

Goodbye.

January 12, 1988 - February 21, 2009