Gary’s Worst of the Best of 2010

Baltimore – For the past 2, 3 years I’ve opened each post with Toronto. It has been so internalized that I paused to double-check. 2010 has been a weird year. It opened while I was by Nathan Philips Square, watching the fireworks and giving high-fives while walking down the middle of the Queen street; and will probably close when I am shuddering in a West Edmonton Mall parking lot for the first time in 4 years. As I am typing out these musing that no one cares to read, with George Carlin yapping in the background, comparing how I started and will end this year, I’m thinking to myself: “WTF am I doing in Maryland?” “Well, why the hell not?” Like every good schizophrenic muse, that devil’s advocate in my head autonomically answers with a list (background saxophone not included). And it’s a weird list, to go with a weird year. I have a habit of finding faults in things, and so without further ado: the worst of the best this year.

Toronto: G20. I think we first have to agree that TO is one of the most rewarding cities in which to eke out a living. Granted, it is not cheap, particularly scenic (our urban park is made of landfill), friendly (have you been to Forrest Hill?), nor well-organized. (TTC deserves a separate “Worst” article. However, that condition pre-dates 2010.) But it used to be that if the idea of being patted down (or gawked at) by TSA officers runs contrary to your understanding of civil liberties, then the Center of the Universe is a vibrant alternative. Yet all of this year’s successful events that we have covered: HotDocs, Jazzfest, NXNE, Fringe festival, Nuit Blanche, HotDocs, countless concerts, shudders in the shadow of G20. Why? Because prior to that, “we lacked international exposure”. Now that we have hosted an international catastrophe, let’s review the performances: 1) Police chief Bill Blair was a more eloquent public speaker than former mayor David Miller. 2) University of Toronto graduate housing hosted “elements” of the G20 mob. 3) Both Toronto AND Montreal police may (or have) face lawsuits for abuse of power. 4) Burning police cars, smashed stores, urban warfare on youtube (forever). Prompting several imagery to the world in the Toronto equation: A) Inept civil servants and over-zealous police force. B) Counter-culture breeding ground. C) Trying too hard. I’m not a NIMBY-chanter, but there were alternatives. G20 in downtown Toronto ranks as one of the worst decisions EVER, right up there with rolling in the Trojan horse.

Scientific journals: Retractions. Just in 2010 (and within the limited technical readings that I can comprehend), I can count three things worth touting: commercial STED (we can now see fluorescent neurons at video-rate), IBM’s AFM allows us to make out individual atoms in intact molecules, and the LHC is finally shooting particles. So yeah, science has done well to bulk-up its resume, and since 1970 or so, the number of publications has increased by 2. It doesn’t, however, literally mean we’re making twice as many discoveries now-a-days – there is a concomitant, 20-fold increase in retractions. You can have a look at some basic statistics here. Even though 2010 isn’t the absolute worse year on paper – let’s not forget that it has not yet come to a close. The most visible controversy is the recent NASA announcement about the Mono lake arsenic bacteria and subsequent backlash on the internet (update: the lead author just posted answers for the critics! But what a sneer!) I look at this in 3 ways: 1) we are creating more charlatans in science, 2) the internet make critics of all of us, in vanishingly short time-frames, 3) we are becoming more jaded and high-strung about scientific discoveries. It’s a vicious cycle, really.

Red Dead Redemption: Jack Marston (semi-spoilers ahead). Yes, I know that this is a huge down-shift from world-events to virtual, meaningless, non-value-generating pursuits. Red Dead Redemption really is a good time spent – shooting (or being) outlaws, hog-tying bandits, and generally being a badass all over town (the Rockies, Texas, and Mexico… Mexiamericanada?) But if you have ever felt utter disappointment in your game avatar (such as when you first encountered Issac in Dead Space, for example), then you know what I am talking about. John Marston, the lead character in Rock Star’s Red Dead Redemption, oozes testosterone, class, and style despite being in impossible situations in the western frontiers. Jack, on the other hand, is a nit-wit replica sporting one-and-a-half too few cojones to wear his father’s pants. Where do I start? The voice – Jack’s voice is horribly casted, especially as an adult. There is no continuity from John, and it’s so shrill that the previous comment wasn’t entirely without basis. The personality – Jack is totally under-developed as a character. The stereotypical, father/son missions only impart a practical note: that Jack has inherited his father’s merits. This is comparable to if Tolkien had switched to Radaghast instead of Gandalf for wizard after the latter met death at the hands of a balrog, only because Gandalf used to confide in Radaghast – in a word, stupid. And finally – the ending. All Jack did was to track down a aging FBI agent fishing by a river, and gun him down. What anticlimax. Sure it was satisfying to put things right – but it has much more to do with nostalgia. Frankly, I rather be controlling a zombie John Marston any day.

Reservoir (Fanfarlo): Good Morning Midnight. This year I’ve found some good albums that people have known for awhile: Grizzly Bear, Suckers, XX, Freelance Whales, etc. All are albums that I can listen to in their entirety without skipping. But I don’t think it’s a secret that I’m categorically hooked on the catchy tunes of Fanfarlo. There’s just one problem – that one instrumental number at the end, that I wish had been given full-fledged wings and made marvelous. It technically doesn’t qualify as a “worst”, but it is the most fitting candidate out of the bunch on that album.

Autumn Gold (see my review): Slow motion. Running 95 year-olds were the last thing on my mind when I started to review HotDocs this year. But Autumn Gold turned out to be one of my favorite documentaries this year. It is inspiring, humbling, and at the same time mesmerizing. Just not the last bit where the high-speed camera kicks in. Not everything looks good slowed down – and especially not sagging flesh. If I was behind the camera, what I would display as the last bits were a series of pictures from when these athletes were young, and gradually morph them into what they are now. But that’s just one of many possibilities. Because it’s so sparingly used, I could tolerate them. But no more flaying, flying, spotted cellulite at 1/50th normal speed.

House-cooling: 3+ Patron shots. Kudos to all of you at my farewell party – it was a wonderfully heart-warming night. In keeping with the theme I have to find something horrible to say about this, the best event ever hosted at my place. And thankfully there is something: I don’t remember a thing after trying to sabre the sparkling wine. According to “legend”, there is a round-table testimonial of friendship from everyone present. That, I believe, is something that I would love hear and remember (yes it’s food for the ego). Unfortunately I was apparently either 1) crawling on the floor (see exhibit A above), 2) leaning my head on someone’s shoulder resisting the urge to purge, 3) changing my shirt. Anything nice or nasty anyone said was completely wasted on me because I was wasted. That was one of the more memorable lost-opportunities – and sadly one that cannot be repeated.

Well. This is its folks. It’s 14 more days until you hold out your candles, iphones, LED TV, and green-fluorescent fingers and sing Auld Lane Syne again! (And yes I purposefully skipped Xmas because I don’t need to be reminded of every single ethnic year-end equivalent). Don’t you wish that song can be modified like “Happy Birthday” to include the year for which you’re celebrating!? Let’s change that in 2011.