City Low (feat. Claudette Ortiz)

I'm tired (and not just cuz I flew all the way here, with my arms and such). I'm tired because the pure density of people on this planet is overwhelming. To get away from the daily drudge, I like to sit back with a few brewskis and enjoy some pop culture. It's hard to do that, though, because these executive-types think I want all my movies and televisions to take place in the city. Also, I have no retinas.

Brewskis.

Everyone knows about the 1966 FCC so-called "Pigeon Bill" in which the government mandated 50% of all stories to be set in New York. From Friends to The Baxter, the metropolitan backdrop is used to varying degrees, but almost always in a way that says, "Hey! This city is like life because it has everything in it! What an awesome place!" And you know what? They're right. I've only been to "The City" (as pretentious cocks call it) in brief spurts, but I've always gotten a pretty neat feeling upon arriving. It really is a testament to human society and the progress we've made since the days of Cavemen (which is actually set in San Diego).

At this point in time, however, I want to go back to the cave. The fact that I liked both No Country For Old Men and (a bit less, because I'm the Oscars) There Will Be Blood is no doubt a product in-part of the films' rural settings. What would otherwise be miles upon miles of ugly, arid, quail-hunting land is in my mind miles more interesting than any city I've ever visited. The most depressing parts of these films (which are the parts I liked) are the end realizations that humanity trudges on in a predictable spiral towards something wholly unnatural and, to the former landscape, unrecognizable.

This is not how it has always been. I used to blab about how I needed to live in the city, which led to me carting my knee-like knees around to DC, Prague, Caprica City, LA, etc. All those cities are still great (except the ones that suffered nuclear apocalypses); in the end, though, they've succeeded primarily in making me appreciate the countryside for the dull brilliance it is. The same-old-same-old in a rustic setting might include rolling hills or a shifting sand dune. The same-old-same-old in the city is just Wild On..., minus the hotness of Cindy Taylor.

To brings things back from that distracting, unnecessary, sultry, alluring...

To bring things back again, I do not blanketly condemn all pop culture that features cities, though I'd be pretty cool in a detestable way if I did, right? ("Ugh! I can't believe they visited Bath in Pride and Prejudice! That's the Gomorrah of West Anglia!") I do scold media that uses "cities" simply because they are "cities," without recognizing some intriguing element therein. Anecdote I worked as a game tester on True Crime: New York. Despite attempting to create a street-accurate virtualization of the actual city, the game ended up being a soulless mess where it was metaphorically and literally easy to fall out of the map and into empty space. End Anecdote In broad strokes, this is what I'm upset about, both in real and fictional life.

The best productions are those that transform the setting into another character. Seinfeld does this by transforming New York into a sarcastic guy who every week introduces us to eccentric, semi-attractive women. Bioshock does this by breathing life into an underwater dystopia. And, as far as I know, The Wire does this by actually acknowledging that Baltimore is human and deeply-flawed.

Why, then, is so much of city life so horrible? The world and its media are suffering a tragedy of the commons. There are too many people, which leads to too many people who like bad pop culture, which leads to too many cities built upon the commercial money garnered from this crap. It's partially my fault, I admit. I could be one of these contemptible people, although I doubt it *wink*. I was born, in any case; and sometimes I even think about what it'd be like to pull another one of me out of some broad *wink*. Whatever. We're doomed to overcapacitation, despite the signs.
Until that horrific future, I dream of a life in the country, where the horrors are a bit more far away, and the cool breeze of the Irish Sea threatens to doff me cap straight off me noggin. I'll stare out at the nothingness, appreciate what I see, and gently stroll back into me stone-carved cabin. Once there, I'll sit in me down-stuffed chair (which is filled completely with feathers I plucked meself.) I'll flip on the remote, and the rustle of the waves outside will just barely be drowned out by the soothing sounds of Frasier, as I drift off to sleep...

Ahhh... I wonder what it'd be like to be a Crane, living the vibrant life of the city...

This entry was posted by DoktorPeace, on Tuesday, February 26, 2008. You can leave your response.