Uncompressedread.listen.think

volume one • issue one

“Reading without reflecting is like eating without digesting.” –Edmund Burke

Greetings! What you are holding is the first issue of a publication that is dedicated to cultural criticism. It strives to create and add to conversations about culture. We do hope that you read and listen, but also that you think, and have the lively conversations that indicate thought.

However, let it not be any type of thought. Let it be “Holy Spirited” thought. This ability to tell the difference between good and evil which was lost through the Fall was restored in part at Pentecost. It is not about us; it is about He who is in us. It happens because we believe the Holy Spirit is working in the world, and because we believe we must be faithful and obedient in our thinking about culture. Christianity is not the baggage that we carry into this thinking; rather, it is what defines this thinking. We think differently because of what Christ has done for us and for all of creation.

May these articles fan into flame your Holy Spirited thinking, as they do for those who are involved in the publication.

Although the name of this publication is specifically related to digital audio formats, the articles represent a wider range of topics. In addition to an article about music formats, you will find articles about albums, television, language, video games and advertising. Through these articles we will think about excellent and praiseworthy things, though not at the cost of considering the things that are broken—we know that the God of peace is present in those things as well, and that we are called to think on them.

Since this is the first issue some things may change for the second issue and we would welcome your feedback at uncompressed@calvin.edu.

Grace be yours as we journey together.

-D.M.

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Contents:

The Perils of MP3 Compression by John Scherer

Dar Williams’ Latest Self by Jim Nyenhuis

The Bright Side of Goth by M. B. Windt

Unspeak: The Dangerous Language of Politics by Kristi Arbogast

Mute Math Does Not Stall Out by Lisa Van Dyk

Video Games Attempt to Broaden Boundaries of What Makes Art by Dave Lyzenga

In The Margins: Reflections on Ani Difranco’s Reprieve by Chris Beaumont

Eating Like a Man by Bryan Wuest

Grave Offenses on the Sunset Strip by Charles A. Breiner

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The Perils of MP3

Compression

by John Scherer

Most works of art, like most wines, ought to be consumed in the district of their fabrication.

-Rebecca West

The digital music revolution has changed the way music is experienced. Think of it this way. When was the last time you didn’t use Limewire to find Justin Timberlake’s latest collaboration with the strangely prolific Timbaland? When was the last time you drove to a record store, scoured the CD racks, and finally found what you were looking for? And when was the last time that something, whether it was Sting’s Brand New Day or Coldplays’ X & Y, actually cost you money? Digitization certainly has changed the way we function.

Perhaps the most helpless victim of our binary age is the nuance of music. I don’t mean to say that we are now unable to enjoy the ethereal brilliance of Sigur Ros, nor am I saying that Radiohead’s Kid A is any less revolutionary than it was when it was recorded almost seven years ago. What I am arguing though is that through digital compression of music and the use of substandard playback equipment, we have lost the enriching intricacy of the art we call music.

Understanding the impact of compression is helpful. The very nature of an MP3 file is that it is inherently smaller than its original—where an “original” is an unadulterated studio recording. Therefore compression does what its name implies; it condenses music to give it any

number of alluring qualities including a small file size, and playback quality resembling that of its original. However, a major component of a piece of recorded music is lost in this process. Normally, music is recorded at about 1,400 kilobytes per second; that is, 1,400 plus units of information flowing through a loudspeaker per second! This information includes many frequencies that reproduce drum beats, vocals and the sound of instruments. The unfortunate reality of MP3 technology is that it decreases the grandness of an almost lifelike listening experience to a dismal 128 kbps—a scarcely acceptable substitution.

Most compression algorithms reduce perceptual redundancy (sound frequencies of similar type) by first identifying sounds which are considered perceptually irrelevant, that is, sounds that are very difficult to hear. Typical examples include high frequencies, or sounds that occur at the same time as other louder sounds. Those sounds are coded with reduced accuracy or not coded at all, simply because it is assumed that most listeners will not be as perceptive to the details an original recording can afford. And indeed this can be the case, especially when music is played on equipment that cannot reproduce these frequencies. An MP3 file is rarely an accurate reproduction of an original recording despite the use of different MP3 coders.

The most blatant variable that compounds the injustice of compression is poor playback equipment, which I have alluded to somewhat. And no, the 30 watt Altec Lansing speakers shoved into your Dell Inspiron at the last minute on some assembly line in some outsourced factory in China do not count as acceptable equipment. I am referring to an actual set of speakers that reproduce the full range of sound a human ear can detect. I am alluding to equipment that does

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justice to the artistic intention of a musician. I think there is something terribly dissatisfying in listening to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 on a set of ear bud headphones. So too, I’m relatively certain that the intended listening environment Pink Floyd envisioned for their work didn’t involve a shower radio. So then, what’s “acceptable equipment” you ask? The answer might surprise you.

First, I find most people I ask concerning the quality of their respective listening experiences are either apathetic to the art form, or more commonly are weary of the choices and real expense of a decent set of speakers. This is a legitimate concern; however, the truth is that reproducing sound with relative accuracy isn’t too difficult. Many stereo speaker systems are available at most audio/visual stores at fairly reasonable prices. I recently came across a pretty competent set of bookshelf speakers at Best Buy that sold for about $160. They’re manufactured through Sony and upon listening to some music through them, I was pretty impressed.

In addition, the type of speaker (brand, frequency response; that is, the measure of any system’s response at the output of a signal of varying frequency, its “performance factor”) doesn’t matter so much as does the relative quality of the total package. And surprisingly, the accessibility of such systems has thankfully become more prevalent as of late due to more efficient manufacturing techniques and the very fact that technology inherently advances. This advancement, however, has acted as a double-edged sword. It has aided us in making playback equipment more affordable, but at the same time

has appealed to the consumerist tendency of cheapening the experience in order to facilitate unbridled consumption. I think the desire for additional stuff for the sake of simply possessing more is what is at the nucleus of this modern dilemma. Perhaps I am in the minority, but I tend to adhere to the adage that states that quality is paramount to quantity. And certainly it seems this applies to the way in which we interact with music.

I suppose that some of you reading this will discount what I have said and write me off as an angry prescriptivist—a “should-be-that-

way” thinker. Perhaps I do fit the description, but I feel, though, that we must return to some sort of lost standard lest we become even more mired in this very real and unfortunate denigration of the musical experience. My true hope is that after reading this you might begin to consider the way in which you listen to music. The very fact that art can excite the passions and

stimulate the mind is reason enough for proper stewardship. It helps also to realize that we don’t “possess” music (although our inordinately sized “music libraries” tell us otherwise). We simply act as observers in the sense that the listener is privileged to experience, for a brief instant, a beautiful piece of music, while recognizing its fleeting yet strangely timeless nature that clues us in to an even grander symphony that exists, as C.S Lewis put it, “higher up” and “further back.” We, as patrons of art, are commissioned with an obligation of respect. When it comes to music, this means attempting to preserve the original intent of a musician’s recording. Certainly, we will never know exactly what an artist intends, yet I’m convinced that his or her intentions are

The very fact that art can excite the passions

and stimulate the mind is

reason enough for proper

stewardship.

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for experiences more redeeming than the place we currently find ourselves. Gorgeously intricate albums are created for a cause—they attempt to move us and reform the way the think. This reformation cannot occur when it is bombarded by the diluting effects of compression and the use of wholly contemptible equipment. We must move away from the idea that we are simply reflexive consumers of art and into a cultural atmosphere of cognizant respect; respect for the art and the artist. If art is even worth experiencing (and I’d say it certainly is), it is worth experiencing well. You see, once we change our perception of why music exists, and moreover why art exists as a whole, we will be able to realize more fully how we must care for it.

I reference Rebecca West in the beginning of this article regarding the way in which we need to consume art. I find that what she says is very accurate, especially in how it applies to music. We must preserve all we can, because if precise reproduction of music isn’t a priority of ours, something is lost in translation—something eternal.

John Scherer is a sophomore political science major with hopes of working for National Public Radio after graduation.

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Dar Williams’ Latest Self

by Jim Nyenhuis

I hear a voice speaking from the clouds: “I’d like to hear more music that has a social conscience but isn’t so abrasive.” Whether this has been the pesky mantra of your inner music critic for some time now, or I’m just talking to myself, we have all had a wonderful listening alternative for almost a decade—a voice full of warmth and truth calling to popular culture from the bottom of her heart. You’ll find her albums on Razor and Tie Records (a bit of an odd beast in the world of independent labels, with a lineup that includes the TV-released Kidz Bop compilations). Her name is Dar Williams, and she is a brilliant silver reflector shining on the milk-crate-adorned bicycle of today’s folk music scene.

Dar hails from New England, where she became a hit on the local circuit in the mid 90’s with her release The Honesty Room. Since then, she has toured with artists like Joan Baez, Ani DiFranco, Pete Seeger, and The Indigo Girls, and released five more studio albums (plus one live album), all to positive reviews.

My Better Self, released in September of ’05, represents both a growth out of her previous work and (like most of her albums have been) a delightful new direction for her music, lyrically as well as musically. Where her concern for social and environmental issues has been evident throughout her musical career, this new album features songs of a more political bent than before. At the heart of My Better Self is the song “Empires,” which tracks from rise and conquest to decay and inevitable fall an unnamed, yet pointedly American, regime. Following “Empires” is a cover of Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb,” which carries its commentary with a bit more nuance; Ani DiFranco’s collaboration on the song, plus its place on this album, play up the song’s wonderfully applicable message to contemporary media culture while giving the song a respectfully understated, folk-rock setting.

While some have set up Dar as a kind of “activist with a guitar,” a more accurate description would be that of a musical artist whose concerns about our present culture find a deep place in her mode of expression. Even on this album, her politics share a crowded passenger seat with poetic expressions of religion, love, childhood, and friendship. “Echoes,” a song written by some friends of hers, is a statement of pure optimism (perhaps a strange bedfellow to “Empires,” but then, life is complicated)—“Every time you love just a little/Take one step closer solving the riddle/It echoes all over the world,” she sings.

Musically, the songs on My Better Self have less of the lofty, sweeping beauty of her previous albums, but they are grounded in more masterful arrangements. They reflect the

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subtle knowledge of craft that comes with experience and, as Dar’s previous album The Beauty of the Rain (2003) took rich advantage of, help from other musicians. A recovering victim of depression, Dar expresses in interviews the importance she places on the help she received from her friends and therapist during her hard times (the song “What Do You Hear in These Sounds” on The End of the Summer (1997) is a forthright and witty defense of therapy), and that sentiment is reflected in the amount of collaboration with other artists in her music, especially in her later albums. A good half of the tracks on The Beauty of the Rain have guest singers or instrumentalists, including Béla Fleck, Alison Krauss, and John Popper. On My Better Self, not only Ani DiFranco but also Marshall Crenshaw and the members of Soulive add their musical talents to an already rich band.

Dar’s music is immensely attractive and comforting—as well as beautiful and real—in an age chock full of shallow optimism on the one side and bitter cynicism on the other. The way she communicates truth through music will leave you stunned and smiling at its combination of warmth and honesty. My Better Self is a delightful addition to my growing Dar Williams collection.

*If you’re looking for a starting-off point into the music of Dar Williams, I’d suggest you begin with Out There Live, her 2001 live album, which contains some of the best songs from her first four albums as well as snippets of inimitably charming stage banter.

Jim Nyenhuis is a sophomore Asian studies major from Wheaton, Illinois. His musical tastes include folk and electronica, with a special place in his heart for Scandinavian pop music. He first encountered Dar Williams on a live broadcast on classical radio and has been in love ever since.

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The Bright Side of Goth

by M. B. Windt

The pursuit of the darker sides of human knowledge has plagued generations, and many have believed that it was and still is entirely wrong. But is it? Is the seeking after grit knowledge in this life the devil we make it out to be? Is trying to understand the why’s of life in an unapologetically unorthodox way wrong? Or is it just an attempt to understand our nature and our path? Goth has often been perceived to be the epitome of human damnation. While there are aspects of the Goth lifestyle that suggest both unhealthy lifestyle choices and potential destructive tendencies, Goth is certainly not without its redemptive qualities.

The beginning of the modern-day Goth scene began with the yearning after the characters and the ideals of lore. This increased in the late 1920’s and 1930’s with films like Dracula and Nosferatu, which explored the darker side of humanity and set the stage for continued exploration. The Goth that we know today was largely influenced by numerous positive media connections that arose the 1970’s. Influences like these can be found in books like Anne Rice’s series The Vampire Chronicles, vampire art (just search Google), television shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, as well as films such as the Blade trilogy.

Goth has become deeply romantic at its heart. There are three characteristics that are now associated with Goth: an increased sense of sexuality, an association with power, and a sense of possible immortality. The interest in Goth focuses, in many ways, on these three areas. The gothic lifestyle offers a possibility to explore the areas of humanity that are considered taboo or are too far on the fringes of society to be acceptable. Goth, in short, offers an opportunity for people to create a personality that is outside of the norm, without fear of judgment.

Many Americans today only see the negative aspects that are interwoven into the Goth scene, such as devil worship and demonic activities. Much of this bad press comes from role-playing games such as Dungeons and Dragons, playing with Ouija boards and the Goth appearance of individuals such as Marilyn

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Manson. Destructive activities, which do take place in the Goth scene, are not an accurate portrayal of what it means to be Goth.

Goth is not a narrowly focused genre or lifestyle. With many references to Victorian and Edwardian fashion styles, a variety of different types of acceptable music and many different belief systems, the Goth lifestyle offers people freedom to explore who they are and what they feel to be the real issues in life, especially if those issues are considered counter-cultural.

To be Goth is a valid way of trying to make sense of what we are doing here and trying to take a hard look at the world that we live in. The Goth mindset realizes there are things in this world that are not right, that are not true and that are well-worth mourning. This is not a bad thing. The Goth genre is an honest and viable way of working through the issues in this world. Whether addressing war, social injustice, loss of freedoms or the fall from grace, the Goth worldview demands that issues not be glazed over, but to use an extreme term, wallowed in. Goth individuals as a norm are not happy, bubbly and carefree, but down-to-earth, brutally (if not depressively) honest and (dark) truth-seeking individuals. This view of life shows itself in the Goth genre of music. In the words of Abney Park, an influential Goth music band from Seattle:

It’s a cold and a hollow and a lonely life

I’ve seen anguish and anger, fear and strife

Now, the darkness comes and it takes my pride

But, I’ve learned to take the darkness in my stride

Goth is a viable way of working through angst during the growing up years. This is a time when control over one’s own life is small, sexual identities are forming but have no accepted outlet and there is a desire for a defined life-purpose and meaning. Goth offers an outlet to explore this. Maybe we have more to learn from this sub-culture then we care to admit. To use the words of Dave Canfield, a Christian film critic and writer,

“Surrounded by the realities of death, decay, sin, selfishness, (sic) an individual, especially an ultimately hopeful one, could very rightly have the desire to assert that any perceived

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solution to these problems must first acknowledge them and not just with some facile charismatic pose.”

The Goth culture is not a demon to be feared or an angel to be praised, but a medium through which the world can be looked at and appreciated for what it is: a twisted and tired place in need of redemption, but a place where hope is breaking through every crevice, just waiting to be known.

M. B. Windt is from that mystical place called Canada. He is a returning student at Calvin and a self-confessed skeptic, but a hope-filled one.

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Unspeak: The

Dangerous Language

of Politics

by Kristi Arbogast Political language is one of those ever-present things we rarely pay attention to. But author Steven Poole suggests that the time has come for the public to listen up. His book Unspeak dissects the dangerously euphemistic language of politics to show us how “words become weapons, how weapons become a message, and how that message becomes reality.” Language is the root of reality, Augustine said. But when words are used to inaccurately describe reality, when the true meaning is hidden by false words, some great wrong has been perpetrated. Political rhetoric is filled with such words. Words and phrases that have become ubiquitous to us are actually laden with hidden political messages. It is time that we raise a call for transparent political speech and expose the lies these words have been forced to cloak.

Perhaps this talk sounds paranoid to some. Why should we believe our leaders are lying to us? Maybe we are just assuming too much from their political rhetoric and twisting their words to further our opinions. If we don’t trust the leaders of our country, then whom can we trust? While these are all valid questions and opinions, questioning the words of our leaders is not paranoid. Questioning is a vital part of a free

and democratic society, and an act that needs to be practiced more loudly and authentically in our country. When you look for and discover the hidden meanings behind political speaking, you will see the language of Unspeak.

Unspeak, as described by author Steven Poole, is a word or phrase that ushers in “an unspoken argument...[that] tends to saturate the mind with one viewpoint and to make an opposing view ever more difficult to enunciate.” Unspeak is the language of politicians, multinational corporations and other wielders of worldly

power. This language is the root of a false reality, the reality that politicians would have us believe in order to retain their power. Just as 2 plus 2 does not equal 5, so too does ethnic cleansing have nothing to do with hygienic purification.

Unspeak spans the political spectrum and penetrates every major issue. Abortion rights activists use Unspeak in their more commonly known name as “pro-choice” activists. Using the words “pro-choice” ushers

in the unspoken argument that people against abortion are really “anti-choice” and therefore controlling dictators of decisions, rather than believers in the sacredness of life. Or take for example the environmental organization Friends of the Earth. Does that name imply that those against their environmental policies are enemies of the Earth? Perhaps the only enemies of the Earth are those in power who use the phrase “climate change” to describe the reality of “global warming.” “Climate change” connotes a more peaceful and slow change in our climate

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without any dire consequences. However, most scientific studies done on the subject of “climate change” agree that the changes will be anything but tranquil. The term “global warming” conjures up some of the intensity of the situation and therefore should be used over “climate change.” But don’t expect any oil companies to make the change, just as the White House won’t change its use of the word “abuse.”

The words Abu Ghraib immediately spark images of Iraqi prisoners beaten and abused by US soldiers. But is it abuse or torture? What is the difference? Abuse is the term the White House used to describe the atrocities of Abu Ghraib. Do not think this word was chosen by accident. Abuse is a vague term, often implying misuse or mistreatment rather than violent acts. Therefore, according to the Bush administration, US soldiers only mistreated the Iraqi prisoners. After granting the authorization of the “interrogation technique” of forcing a prisoner to stand for four hours, Donald Rumsfeld replied, “However, I stand for eight to ten hours a day. Why is standing limited to 4 hours?” Rumsfeld probably did not realize that the prisoners who have to stand for four hours cannot move at all or they will be shocked. But again, maybe he did. Torture is defined by the UN as “any act by which severe pain or suffering, whether physical or mental, is intentionally inflicted on a person...by or at the instigation of or with the consent or acquiescence of a public official or other person acting in an official capacity.” Therefore, this “technique” of long term standing does not sound like abuse but torture. The word abuse was chosen by the government because it does not seem as harsh or disturbing as torture or as easily punishable by international law. The Bush administration has skirted around the word “torture” because to admit to it would

have serious repercussions. We are being fooled by our government’s misleading language and the media that out of laziness unquestionably repeats it. We are all culpable in allowing this torture to continue.

The entirety of Poole’s book Unspeak contains many other explanations of carefully crafted, politically laden words. You gain a whole new insight into the disturbing web of wordy lies by reading Poole’s carefully researched and balanced book. Although Unspeak can be a bit of a heavy read, it is an essential tool in understanding the real reality and not the reality our leaders try to force upon us. Clarity in language is an ongoing battle and one that Poole is willing to fight, but he rightly asks us to join with him. We must counter the language of Unspeak by avoiding the spread of it and by clarifying to others the real meanings of Unspeak phrases. If we allow our government to continue with their Unspeak, we allow them to continue the lies and perpetration of terrible acts against both humans and the environment. Therefore we must reclaim clarity in language and return real to reality. As George Orwell put it, “In an age of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.” Let the revolution begin.

Steven Poole maintains a blog at www.unspeak.net where he critiques and clarifies new instances of Unspeak.

Kristi Arbogast is a junior studying German, international politics and journalism. Tearing apart politicians is one of her many favorite pastimes.

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Mute Math Does not “Stall Out”

by Lisa Van Dyk

On January 19, 2006, Mute Math embarked on an album release tour to promote their self-titled album, which, ironically, was unreleased. However, through clever use of the internet, particularly by frequently posting video blogs on MySpace, the band was able to develop an audience and sell tens of thousands of copies of their album without the assistance of a record label. On September 26, they released on Warner Brothers what is essentially that same album supplemented by three songs from their 2004 EP, Reset. This new release is a perfect introduction for a first time Mute Math listener, and the album is fully re-mastered and includes a bonus limited edition live EP to keep

the seasoned fans enthused. The bonus EP serves to introduce new listeners to the forum where Mute Math excels—live concerts.

Mute Math’s sound is distinctive in that the vocals do not stand out as the main focus of any given song. Rather, the vocals soar above and blend with the instruments in an overarching musical composition. In fact, four of the tracks on the album are entirely instrumental, a testament to the fact that

the instrumentation, rather than the lyrics, is the driving force behind the band. Seamless transitions in style, sound and tempo within and between songs on the album provide an ethereal experience for the listener.

The album opens with a short instrumental prelude, “Collapse,” in which a rolling drumbeat prepares the listener for the assault of the opening guitar riff of “Typical,” the first single from the album. “Typical” features a swirling barrage of electronic samples that, when layered with the drums, guitars and vocals, create an atmospheric, out-of-this-world effect. “Typical” transitions flawlessly into “After We Have Left Our Homes,” another short instrumental track. The vocals on this track unite with the instrumentation and suspend the listener within the music.

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One of the best tracks on the album is “Stall Out,” a seven-minute epic that demonstrates the electro-rock hybrid unique to Mute Math. The track starts off slower while showcasing lead singer Paul Meany’s transcendent vocals as well as the piano and sampling work. The listener is lulled into an unsettling calm of soft samples before a percussion driven interval. The song closes with a prolonged sequence of distorted guitar that is one of the defining elements of Mute Math’s sound.

As professing Christians in the music industry, Mute Math has faced many issues on both sides of the church doors. For example, the band recently sued their label for marketing them as a Christian band, an act that resulted in a delay in the release of this album. Mute Math is not interested in being marketed to any particular demographic or genre; rather, as the bassist, Roy Mitchell-Cardenas, said in a recent interview, “We want to be respected as artists who make great, memorable and moving music.” The sounds from their vintage and homemade instruments, amps and synthesizers leave the listener with just that—an unforgettable experience.Lisa Van Dyk is a biology major from Delaware who saw Mute Math last summer and still can’t quite walk straight.

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Video Games Attempt to Broaden

Boundaries

of What Makes Art

by Dave Lyzenga

Back in 1958, a physicist named William Higinbotham working in a national lab in Brookhaven, New York decided to create a small video tennis program for bored open house attendees with an oscilloscope and some crude controllers. Attendees that day were lining up for hours to try the strangely exciting new “game.” One day in 1972, Atari decided to test a single prototype of its new game “Pong” in a small bar. Later that evening, the bartender allegedly called to have the game removed, claiming it was broken. What was perceived to be the malfunction turned out to be the game’s casing jammed to the brim with quarters. Needless to say, the creators of these games had stumbled upon something very powerful. Since their humble beginnings, video games have exploded into an incredibly successful industry that rivals even film in its revenue and popularity. I’m sure I don’t have to convince you of the cultural pull video games are able to amass, but even with the widespread recognition and respect they receive as an industry, they are often regarded as inconsequential or worse, as mere toys.

Is that truly all that games can be: simply a diversion from serious matters or art forms? It can be hard for the average person to recognize that something derivative of the Donkey Kong arcade they played as a child could really have significant artistic merit, but I hope to make it clear that not only are video games a meaningful form of expression, they also have the potential to convey experiences and feelings as effectively as any other art form.

A convenient way to argue the merits of an art medium is to compare it to another, and as a comprehensive art, video games share characteristics with many other mediums. One of the most readily apparent aesthetic qualities video games demonstrate is the visual art direction they convey. Some people may still associate games with their pixilated beginnings, but a modern observer would see that games are steadily approaching the ability to have photorealistic three-dimensional renderings of objects, surroundings and characters. Also, video games are not tied to the bounds of realism, and the freedom technology is bringing spills over into the ability to create limitless abstract art. Paintings and photographs have their virtual counterparts in the two-dimensional rendering of game systems, and now with three-dimensional modeling even sculpture has its brethren.

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Nearly any existing art form could at least be mimicked within a game, but does that truly lend any artistic quality to games themselves?

Video games have also developed immensely in the area of music. Early games used analog synthesizers to create very limited MIDI sounds that were entirely electronic-based. While the artistic merit of such a limited medium could be discussed, the parallel that video games have achieved nowadays with the scores of other mediums like film and theater is quite interesting. Today, most games have music created specifically for them and some feature full orchestration. Many games have soundtracks available for purchase separately, and there are a number of notable composers who principally work with video games (such as the renowned Final Fantasy music maestro Nubou Uematsu). There are even concerts at which the orchestra performs music drawn from video games exclusively. It would be safe to say that some of the most notable recent orchestration has been done specifically to add to this growing meta- art idea of video games. Then, of course, there is the striking similarity between video games and the established art of film. Not only do games contain filmic elements such as visual symbolism and moving framing, they often contain film itself. While many games use pre-rendered sequences of events through a forced perspective to tell the story, some use full-fledged filmed scenes. And like most films produced, video games are often largely collaborative, with positions for art directors, animators, programmers, writers, storyboard artists and actors (both voice and visual, including extensive use of motion capturing). The narrative elements of games (limited probably to the non-sports, non-action heavy representatives) can be as intense, complex and well-presented as any other art form. The aural and visual elements employed by games most closely resemble those used in film. Games borrow heavily from the cues we are most used to receiving when interpreting the meaning behind a film, such as the framing, music choice, sound effects, shot transitions, etc. Games that contain stories above the minimal background information tend to have teams of talented writers set on weaving the narrative through heavy interactivity as well as narration, dialogue and written description. Many early Role Playing Games were heavily text-based, but the shift from text to voice acting has certainly not diminished the quality of the written material, just how often it appears on screen.

So, it is clearly evident that video games at least borrow heavily from other established art forms, but are they simply a quilt-like hodgepodge of “true” art elements? As with the similar comprehensive art of film, the true power of video

The narrative elements of games...can be as

intense, complex and well-presented as any

other art form.

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games is greater than the sum of its parts. With a film, you could read the script, listen to the music and observe the props and storyboard while still missing the added experience that manifests itself when all of the elements are combined. This principle is no different with video games, and the collective elements receive one more pivotal addition in their case: interactivity. There is a tremendous freedom that games grant the artist in allowing the audience to become an integral component of the story. The player of a game can hardly help becoming engrossed by the digital creation that bombards her with output and requires a response. It is this magical quality that drew so many people to the lab in 1958: the ability to influence and participate in a dynamic experience. Back then, it may have only been a small dot reflected back and forth on a screen, but today a player is able to interact with the emotional arcs of multitudes of characters, experience real time threats and tension through required decision-making and fulfill his role as a contributing artist to the constantly-changing creation he is a part of. As is the case with any art form, we have plenty of poor examples of a medium that lack any inventive or redemptive quality, but no number of “Grand Theft Auto” knock-offs can detract from the brilliance of a superbly written story executed through artfully crafted visual design and presentation, allowing the players to experience and interpret their own version of the art. When the potential of video games is truly grasped and experienced, there is little question that there is simply something special about these lumps of code and codec. They culminate in a valid work of art and you may have to experience it to understand.

Dave Lyzenga is a junior electrical engineering student who is fighting all stereotypes of his chosen major, with the exception of video game knowledge.

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In The Margins: Reflections on Ani

Difranco’s Reprieve by Chris Beaumont

Ani Difranco released a new album in August. Depending on how you count, Reprieve is Ani’s 16th or 18th studio album in 16 years. Add to this collection three EPs, two DVDs, 11 collaborations with other artists, and an almost continuous touring career since 1992 and the result is a performer whom few would hesitate to label as prolific.

It is generally true that, when an artist’s career has this kind of stamina, the artist is doing something correctly (one may make the argument that the 17 albums of Mariah Carey provide an interesting counterexample). In the case of Ani DiFranco, many things are being done correctly. DiFranco invests an uncommon amount of deliberation and sincerity into all aspects of her music. From the style of the guitar, to the presence or absence of drums, to the character of vocal grunting, her music is pregnant with intentional meaning.

In this context, Difranco’s new album is worthy of careful deliberation. The sound of Reprieve is particularly intriguing. The album finds Ani in an unusually reflective mood — both lyrically and musically. Typical signatures —frenetic guitar picking, aggressive vocals—are infrequent or altogether missing in these songs, replaced instead with an emphasis on soft acoustic fingerpicking, a mellow upright bass and a sparse arrangement of background sounds. It strikes me that this choice of style deserves some thought. Why might she have chosen to release such a contemplative record? In what ways does the album’s minimalist style communicate to the listener? What is the significance of the presence and placement of ambient sounds? In other words—and to borrow the title of the album’s third track—what is happening in the margins of this album? It is my attempt in this space to elucidate some of my thoughts on this matter.

Reasons for Reflection

There have likely been at least three events which significantly shape Reprieve. The first is an uncharacteristic break from touring and writing that DiFranco took in mid-2005. Though the break was motivated by a developing case of tendonitis, DiFranco has remarked that the rest provided her with time during which she was able to “stop putting out

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and just listen…to be quiet and still.” The album bears the impact of this contemplative period.

Another significant influence is the romantic relationship that Difranco has been developing with the album’s producer, Mike Napolitano. She recently announced that she and Napolitano are expecting a baby girl. This relationship has likely influenced both DiFranco’s style and the songwriter/producer dynamic through which the album was created, since this album’s treatment of relationships is significantly less bitter than her other works.

Of final note is the impact that Hurricane Katrina has on the album. While production of Reprieve began in New Orleans, DiFranco was forced to relocate after the storm and finish her album in Buffalo. Such an exodus has had two distinct effects on the album. First, as Rolling Stone journalist Brian Orloff observes, Reprieve “sonically reflects her travels [to and from New Orleans] over the last year.” There are themes of disconnectedness on the album that likely have origin in the fact that production took place in two locations. The second effect is that much of DiFranco’s equipment was unavailable in New York. In light of this, the album’s earthy, bare-bones feel is seen as a new language which, while forced upon DiFranco by the situation, has opened up new nuances for her art.

Speaking Through Absence

DiFranco often uses the deliberate absence of noise in Reprieve as its own form of art. An example of this is in the excellent track “Nicotine,” which deals with the interplay between infatuation and addiction. The song’s minimalism is present everywhere from Difranco’s delicate vocals to the slow, lo-fi bongo track to the simplistic melody. When this mellowness is juxtaposed with the song’s sometimes-dissonant chords and eerie lyrics like “I hate you sometimes / but I love to be your queen,” the song becomes paradoxical and intensified. This technique is also present in “Unrequited,” a lyrical rationalization of the end of a relationship. In these songs Difranco gets under the skin, arguing that love is often ugly.

Another excellent use of restraint is in the closing track, “Reprise.” The song is a brief instrumental ballad featuring a quiet keyboard chord progression

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which is slightly elaborated upon by an acoustic guitar. The song provides a summary for the predominant mood throughout the rest of the album. My favorite element of the song is the final chord that yearns for another, resolving one. Ani follows this chord with eight seconds of silence, leaving the listener waiting for a resolution that is not delivered. It is a beautiful and sad song which closes the album wonderfully.

In the Background

DiFranco uses electronic and recorded sounds more heavily in this album than some of her other works. Many of these sounds are used to transition between songs, which provides coherence throughout the album. My favorite of these transitions is between “Nicotine” and “Decree.” Following “Nicotine” is roughly a minute-long superposition of urban background noise, monkey cries and the mechanical breaths of a respirator. These then fade into “Decree.” The disturbing sound both reaffirms the dissonance of “Nicotine” and introduces the aggression and tension in “Decree.” The respirator then becomes a recurring motif in “Decree,” which fades in and out to complement the other instrumentation.

“Millennium Theatre,” a reflection on the early 21st century and, musically speaking, the most active track on the album, also makes excellent use of electronic sounds. Some of Difranco’s vocals in the song are echoed through the sound of a fuzzy loudspeaker, which gives the impression of being at a cheesy circus and asserts the absurdity of spectacle. A sound that can only be described as a squeaky wheel is barely audible throughout the track, and a mixture of static and electronic feedback fades in at the end to engulf the song. This Radiohead-esque use of electronic sounds creates a feeling of unease throughout the track. Such a feeling is apt, as DiFranco’s intention is to disturb her listeners with what she is singing about.

As has been suggested above, Repreive is an intentional album in which few elements are left unconsidered or hastily presented. Ani Difranco’s album is a showcase of the artist’s ability to communicate in concert through multiple avenues. She has demonstrated here the goal of many artists: to communicate in a way that deliberately reflects upon and critiques one’s subject in an effective and creative way.

Chris Beaumont is a senior physics major from Troy, Michigan. He learned of Ani DiFranco one night in April of 2005 while working at Calvin’s Observatory and listening to a Paste Magazine CD. He has been captivated since.

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Eating Like a Man

by Bryan Wuest

It’s news to no one that advertising and other media images have a strong effect on us. During my time at Calvin College I have heard and read a lot about the way that media affects our self-perception, our expectations of others, etc. Much of this discussion has centered on what sort of messages advertisements are sending about females and their bodies. However, in the past year or so, I’ve noticed more and more the numerous messages being communicated about males in society.

This article could discuss a range of topics about masculinity, but one topic was especially interesting to me: masculinity in food advertisements. On first glance, the commercials I’ll discuss seem like simple amusement, but a closer reading, and comparison to other similar commercials, makes the message that these commercials are sending clear. I’ll display two similar yet distinct messages: first, that unhealthy eating results in masculinity, and second, that healthy eating results in a loss of masculinity.

The first message these commercials communicate to us is that it is manly to eat in an unhealthy way. In these we see manly men and manly meals, and a clear association between the two. Burger King presents us with two fine examples of such. First, this summer’s BK Stacker ad campaign: the BK Stacker is a sandwich that includes only bread, meat, cheese, bacon, and special sauce. It’s called the “Stacker” because you can choose if you want a Double, a Triple, or a Quad Stacker, the latter of which contains four beef patties, as the name suggests, and 68 grams of fat. The most interesting thing about

this sandwich is the rhetoric used to advertise it. First, the advertisements emphasize the absence of any vegetables on the sandwich. “Hold the produce,” one paper ad read; “No vegetables,” a radio ad reported and a television ad included a boss yelling at a worker for trying to add a tomato to the sandwich. The paper and radio ad are especially interesting because they use the absence of vegetables as a selling point. No lettuce here, please; just the multiple beef patties.

A Burger King television commercial from earlier last year showed men running rampant through city streets in celebration of the Texas Double Whopper (two beef patties, bacon, cheese, vegetables, jalapeños). The riot is set off by one man’s decision to no longer eat “chick food.” Men begin crowding the streets, breaking cement blocks with their heads, punching each other in the gut, and eating “until my innie turns into an outtie.” “I AM MAN,” they triumphantly declare.

The Dairy Queen Chili Meltdown GrillBurger takes food’s gender-defining power to a more literal level. This burger’s commercial shows a male-female couple sitting on the couch, watching a weepy melodrama. The man is eating a DQ burger, and then the woman asks for a bite. After tasting the burger, she nods appreciatively, then undergoes a transformation. She slides down in her seat, spreads her legs, places her hand in her pants, and switches the TV to a sports game. “Dude—pull my finger,” she says. As a result of such a manly burger, she’s becoming masculine (or the commercial’s perception thereof ) in her behavior. And to eliminate any possible remaining ambiguity, the commercial ends with, “It’ll make a man out of you.”

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The message is clear: if you’re a real man, you’ll eat like a real man. “Stack it high, tough guy,” one Burger King add suggests. Men eat a lot, and preferably a lot of meat.

It follows logically that the first message would give way to a second: as eating this food makes you a man, eating healthily makes you less of a man. Take a recent Hummer commercial. A man is standing at the supermarket while the cashier rings up his purchases: tofu, a large collection of vegetables, etc. Another man comes up and starts unloading his items, which must include half a cow of red meat. The two men’s eyes meet, and the vegetable man looks away sheepishly. The meat man has clearly proven his alpha status in the interaction. The vegetable man must go purchase a Hummer in order to reclaim his manhood.

Another example of loss of manhood can be seen in two similar Hungry Man (microwave dinners) commercials. In these commercials two men are in a locker room, or at the birthday party of one of their kids. Their conversation rolls around to what they had for dinner last night. The first recounts his pound-of-food feast of Hungry Man (although Hungry Man currently advertises a pound-and-a-half version as well), and the second talks about his much lighter fare—I think the two commercials mention a piece of trout for one, and quiche for another. The first man looks at the second in disbelief. Then, in the locker room commercial, the second man is accidentally blown against the wall by a hairdryer; similarly, in the birthday party commercial, the kid’s blowing out of the candles flings the second man into the air. The first man, the more masculine man, just shakes his head.

So, many commercials suggest that not only is manhood determined by eating unnecessarily large and unhealthy portions; the choice to not indulge in gluttony means that one is not a true man. These eating habits are definitive of masculinity. What does this mean for the American male?

There are obvious ramifications of male obesity (which society already generally condones, to a point, in contrast to the obsession with female slenderness), but I think there is something more sinister happening here. Perhaps the most psychologically (and subtly) influential facet of these commercials is their encouragement of the idea that eating is and should be a gendered activity. Examples like Burger King’s mention of “chick food,” and the role of vegetables and

tofu in the emasculation of the purchasing male, promote the idea that foods and eating habits can be feminine (salads, fruit, watching your weight) or masculine (meat, eating to excess). And by feminizing certain habits, the commercials play

off the deep-seated male fear of effemination (a topic for another day).

It’s unclear to me exactly how these gender specifications of food came into being. Why is it that meat is manly, and vegetables are girly? I have a guess that the emphasis on female slenderness has a part in this, but it’s hard to say. Whatever the cause, food companies certainly have no qualms about encouraging males to overeat unhealthy food in order to boost profits.

However, once we also consider the Hummer commercial, which is not trying to sell us food, we see the true issue at hand. It’s a two-faceted problem: not only are these companies creating an image of masculinity, but this ideal masculinity

Why is it that meat is manly, and vegetables

are girly?

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is also for sale. These companies wish to tell us what we should be as men, and then to charge us money for the tools to do so.

Here it may be relevant to remember the Christ was very much a physical male with physical needs. Advertising’s images of men as crass and insensitive are incongruous with the example Christ provided during his time on earth. In addition to his example of masculinity, though, Christ also demonstrated an attitude towards food that is not to be found in these advertisements: eating as nourishment, as community, as more than mere function to stave off hunger. Eating for Christ was a time to interact with others, and to fulfill the needs of his body. It was not a way for him to prove his manliness and one-up some less masculine acquaintances.

So don’t buy into it. Don’t let these advertisements tell you what it is to be man or to eat like a man. We have a better example to follow than, say, commercials portraying a burger transforming a woman into a man. Keep your eyes open to these ads and make sure you see what sort of message they are really sending. These advertisements offer us their flawed masculine status at a price, but ultimately the choice is ours—we can buy their polarizing ideal, or we can choose the alternative, in which we eat and live not to prove something, but rather to take part in community, to live equally, to be human.

Bryan Wuest is a film studies and German double major from Street, Maryland. Some of his more compelling interests include spelunking, construction paper art and pop culture.

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Grave Offenses on the Sunset Strip

by Charles A. Breiner

It certainly cannot be said that Aaron Sorkin is taking the high road on his new show Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Studio 60 is, without a doubt, the boldest new show of the season. In the first ten minutes, Sorkin’s script takes stabs at the three major television networks, news channels and their coverage of war, the FCC, the American public, Saturday Night Live, Christians, and the television industry in general. Sadly, much, if not all of it, is true. The show begins on the set of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip (a show within a show, to which I will refer as Sunset Strip to avoid confusion), a Saturday Night Live-type show. When a sketch called “Crazy Christians” is cut, the director makes a public statement attacking the groups mentioned above. In his speech is a line upon which the rest of the show hinges: “There has always been a struggle between art and commerce, and now I’m telling you; art is getting its ass kicked.” This opening rant seems to be everything that Sorkin has wanted to say about the television industry exploding out on to the script.

The show stars Matthew Perry and Bradley Witford, as writer Matt Albie and executive producer/director Danny Trip respectively. Matt used to date the star of Sunset Strip, Harriet Hayes. Harriet Hayes is the most intriguing character on the show because she raises the most controversial and important questions for Christians. Hayes is a Christian, as well as one of the “Big Three” (the three leaders of the cast). This is using one of the classic Sorkin devices. He tries to tell both sides of the story in spite of his obvious biases. For example, in the second season of The West Wing, a show clearly liberal in ideals and values, Ainsley Hayes was hired as lawyer for the President. Hayes was a conservative republican, who proved that Democrats and Republicans can in fact work together. Ainsley Hayes was written as a smart and sophisticated character who often made good points and served as a great contrast to the liberal ideals of the rest of the cast. In Studio 60 Sorkin writes Harriet Hayes as a Christian, and places her in what is seen by many Christians as Satan’s playground, Hollywood. While Studio 60 is mostly about Albie and Trip, Hayes plays a major role and is not overlooked by viewers. Therefore one cannot deny the fact that Sorkin is making very direct statements about Christianity.

Should Christians be offended by Sorkin (who is Jewish) portraying a Christian in the media? Should his opinion about how Christians should be acting in the cultural world be considered? Sorkin has never shied away from writing Christians into his shows. Jeb Bartlett, the patriarchal president in The West Wing, was a Catholic, and a well-read one at that. On more than one occasion, Sorkin used

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Bartlett’s beliefs to present the inner turmoil between his beliefs and his decisions as president.

For example, one of the most controversial episodes (“Two Cathedrals” 2.21) showed President Bartlett in the National Cathedral having the equivalent of a debate with God, screaming in Latin down the cathedral, and then eventually being so disheartened that he extinguishes his cigarette at the center of the cathedral—clearly an offensive gesture. This episode is not a critique of Christianity, or Catholicism. It is showing a questioning of faith that often happens whenever people come across hard times in their life. Sorkin also had an episode in which President Bartlett dealt with a group of immigrants who were claiming religious asylum. Here Bartlett “tests their faith” through a series of questions. The Christians pass the test, and are portrayed as heroes for standing firm in their faith. But Sorkin also has a long history of opposing religious fundamentalism. He has had open forum style debates on The West Wing on topics from prayer in schools to the first amendment.

In The West Wing, Sorkin tried to show how faith played into politics. In Studio 60 Sorkin tries to show how difficult it can be for a Christian in the media, doing so-called not explicitly Christian art. Here Sorkin raises some interesting questions. In the beginning of the show, the audience is only aware that the sketch would offend religious p e o p l e . Tw e n t y minutes later, we meet Harriet Hayes. We learn almost immediately that she is a Christian. She quickly claims that she is “not an expert on Christian people.” What Sorkin may mean by this is that she does not get offended like the stereotypical “conservative Christian.” Later she says that she wasn’t offended by the sketch, but she was offended that she wasn’t asked to be in it. Hayes obviously felt that this sketch had something important to say about Christianity in America. This raises very interesting questions for Christians. Should Christians be offended by satire aimed at Christianity? Should Christians participate in such satire? Satire can be extremely useful to show us the faults in our own way of living or thinking. We can take it or leave it. Satire should not be hurtful but should be a way of trying to understand each other. Satire is often one person saying, “This is what I see about a group of people (which may include myself ), and that doesn’t really make sense, or seems wrong to me.” What this does is give Christians an opportunity to open dialogue about the issue at hand. Good satire conveys some degree of truth, usually one we don’t want to hear.

Sorkin does not use generalities when writing his characters, but he writes them as people. He also knows that stereotypes are, at times, true. In his shows, one

Satire can be extremely useful to show us the

faults in our own way of living or thinking.

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character may seem to follow what many people would see as the “conservative Christian” stereotype, while another may seem more “normal,” like the actual average Christian. He often has his characters play against these generalities.

The next thing that we learn about Hayes’ Christian beliefs is that she prays before every show. When a fellow cast member “blames” her for the director’s melt down, she stands firm in her beliefs. She points to her good work as reason for her success. While she does verbally attack the fellow cast member who confronts her, Sorkin uses this to raise an interesting point and a possible personal belief. Sorkin has a history of criticizing a vast array of religions, ideologies, and beliefs, often blatantly. Sorkin never criticizes another ideology/religion on simply its practices, or its rituals, but rather he criticizes what he sees as inconsistencies in a worldview. He seems to think that this is the way that Christians should be engaging in conversation with each other.

The last moment of commentary on Christian beliefs that Sorkin makes in the premier will probably be seen as most offensive to Christians. In the final act of the show an argument erupts between Matt Albie and his ex-girlfriend Harriet Hayes over why they broke up. They apparently broke up after she went on the 700 Club while supporting her new musical album. Hayes defends herself by claiming that it was an “album of spiritual music. Those are the people who buy spiritual music.” Albie contends that Harriet “put on a dress and sang for a bigot.” Here, much of the Christian audience has turned the TV off, offended by the fact that Sorkin would call Christians “bigots.” The catch here is that Sorkin didn’t call Christians bigots, he called Pat Robertson a “bigot”—a point that is not lost on Harriet. She points out that she was not singing to him, but for “his audience, not everyone of whom is necessarily the grotesque stereotype that you’d like them to be.” Sorkin here is indeed criticizing his own industry and possibly himself for constantly stereotyping religious groups and ideologies incorrectly. She goes on to comment that she wishes she could go back and choose not to go on the show. Again, this leads us back to the idea that she was indeed pandering to a Christian audience to get more sales. She also seems to disagree with Pat Robertson’s ideas, but went on his show in order to appeal to his demographic. Should Christian artists appear on shows, in films, or record labels in which they may or may not be supporting their own personal beliefs? An important question raised, but not resolved, by Sorkin.

The last point that Sorkin makes in this argument relates to medium. Harriet apologized for going on Pat Robertson if it offended Matt, then she told him that she stood by the sketch that started the controversy. It is a sketch that she will continue to stand by even to the press. Matt responds that the 700 Club isn’t a comedy show. This is where the line becomes drawn in the sand. Albie is saying

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that a statement carries different weight depending on when, where, and how it is presented. There is a time and a place for satire, and a time and a place for debate. This is why there are different forums on television and in our culture. This begs the question, should Christians discern between sketch comedy shows like SNL, and religious political talk shows like The 700 Club? Should the population in general? Should they accept the criticism or views of statements made on some shows, and not the others? To split the difference, should Christians go on a show like David Letterman, a show that clearly does not claim to have a religious message?

Aaron Sorkin has important things to say, or at the very least important questions to ask, about Christian engagement with society and culture. Sorkin is one of the few people in Hollywood who has the courage to stand up and say, “This is what I believe, but here is what other people think, and here are the questions that arise out of those issues.” Sorkin is trying to do a couple of things that are good, and with which Christians should engage. First, his primary objective is to make good a r t . Te l e v i s i on is an art form and Sorkin is fantastic in that a r e a . S e c o n d , Sorkin is not trying to goad any ideologies into a fight, but rather engage them in the conversation. Christians should be trying to engage with him and the rest of culture. We should be putting out our perspectives and beliefs as well.

We should try at the very least to encourage each other to come to a mutual understanding and respect for each other. Each person has a right to his or her opinions. We live in a country where we protect free speech. At times people will say something that might offend us (a point that Aaron Sorkin also makes), just like we might say something that offends others. I think that such offense comes out of lack of understanding of each other, either by situation, ideologies, or attitude. Let’s not get so easily offended, responding with gasps and boycotts, but look past, to see what is actually being said, and evaluate it as Christians. Christians should ask questions like: What does it mean to us and our faith? Is it offensive because it is true, or because it’s false? What implications does that have on our daily lives?

Studio 60 is one of the freshest shows that I have seen on television in the last five years. It dares to cross the line between satire and actual criticism of modern television. The writing is excellent, as is the acting. Matthew Perry and Bradley Witford flawlessly step out of their previous roles on NBC hits, into these new and entertaining characters. Charismatic and slightly mysterious, Amanda Peet

Aaron Sorkin has important things to say, or at the very least

important questions to ask, about Christian engagement

with society and culture.

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shines as the network president. Sorkin’s writing comes from the heart, such that one can’t help but think that there is a certain degree of autobiographical content woven into the story. NBC is taking a huge step here in airing a show that (if you have any knowledge about NBC’s history) obviously criticizes the network. While many may find some of Sorkin’s writing offensive, it should be a spring board for an open debate about: religion and culture, Christian participation in the media, art vs. commerce and the role that genres play in making statements about politics, religion, and ideologies.

Charles Breiner is a Media Productions major from Indianapolis, Indiana. He prides himself on his personal study of popular culture, primarily in the entertainment areas, and seeks to bridge the ever-widening gap between the church and the entertainment industry.

Editor: Denise Mokma

Contributers: Kristi Arbogast, Chris Beaumont, Charles A. Breiner, Dave Lyzenga, Jim Nyenhuis, John Scherer, Lisa Van Dyk, M. B. Windt, Bryan Wuest

Advisors: Rob Vander Giessen-Reitsma, Kirsten Vander Giessen-Reitsma, Ken Heffner

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