The Friday... Neville?

Aaron,
I'm sorry. Don't hate me. I can't be your heaven.
JB

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Preventing Winter Robot

Illustration by
Master Matt

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The Versificator

My trusty editors and I are thrilled to announce the triumphant return of Jack Black's Body's Official Versificator-In-Residence, Bernanation. You may have seen her scurrying about the corridors of JBB World HQ and heard us whispering in awe, "There goes our Laureate of Rhyme!" Now she's back, with a spate of brand-spanking-new verses that we'll be bringing to you on an entirely irregular basis. Because this Revolution's got rhymes!

Wake

O! Tell me not in mournful numbers.
Life is not your empty dream,
because we all slumber in the sleep of one great dreamer,
always on the verge of wakefulness,
ready for his wake,
face blue and cold and wet with week old tears.

In the wake of the storm I am left,
clutching the air near a phantom limb.
Hold hold hold hold, but soft...

I sat in the window and watched the night break,
and leak moon all over the sidewalk,
walk walk walk,
all I want to do,
to give the holy man five more dollars,
hoping for karma to pay me back.

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Exposé on Fake Outrage? How Dare You!

Chicago's Toe-Sock Gets the Joke
A brisk wind off the northwest shore of Lake Michigan drives sleet into the faces of thousands of fans. They shiver in various combinations of midnight blue, brown, and orange. For many hours, devoid of cover or respite, they have been waiting in the parking lots that surround Soldier Field like so many concrete ice-plains.

They huddle around smoke-pits and drink massive quantities of beer, which seems to warm them up while dilating their blood vessels and making the prospect of hypothermia that much more probable.

They are like the Mongol hordes crouched around their camp-fires, greedily devouring the spoils of recent victories and eagerly anticipating those to come. They have been waiting for several hours and will be waiting several more before they are allowed to file into the stadium to watch the event they are here for, the game they paid a ridiculous amount of money to attend, the NFC championship game between their beloved Bears and the upstart, feel-good story of the year, the New Orleans Saints.

A rare breed of fan stands out like gold dinghies in a sea of brown and blue. Those bold enough to follow their team to an opposing team's stadium. A small number of Saints fans have braved the weather and the drunken Bears fans to watch what, in all probability, could be the last game their team plays all year. They endure verbal abuse, suffer the threat of impending physical violence, and are assaulted with fan-crafted signs like:

"Bears finishing What Katrina Started."

I must say that when I saw this sign displayed prominently alongside Al Jones' recent article in the Sun Herald, I laughed.

Seriously, I'm no monster, but a joke is a joke, and in the fine tradition of South Park, The Onion, and the Colbert Report, this outrageous prophecy struck me as witty.

Did the folks who read this slogan—Bears and Saints fans alike—honestly believe that it was created out of a sincere desire for disaster? Did they read it as a command for rampaging brown bears to descend upon the recovering gulf city and finish off the victims of the greatest natural disaster in US history? Of course not.

Is the taste of the slogan questionable? Perhaps. Will it outrage those with thin skins? Absolutely.

Because if there is one thing professional sports leagues are in the business of perpetuating—other than illegal substance abuse, unplanned pregnancies, domestic violence, and inflated egos—it’s fake outrage.

Fake outrage!? How dare you!

Yes, fake outrage.

Many people, media pundits especially, fail to realize that sports exist for one reason: Entertainment. And to think that the concept of entertainment is limited to the playing field is complete folly.

Fans easily get sucked into all of the extraneous 'stuff' that goes hand-in-hand with professional sports. People revel in the drug scandals, the arrests, and the outrageous behavior of figures that have become this century's equivalent to medieval jesters. And just like jesters of old who could do what no one else in their right mind could do—insult the king, mock unassailable institutions, etc.—professional sports players appear to have cart blanche when it comes to acting like complete jackasses.

Decent, intelligent fans see through this sort of thing and laugh, shrug their shoulders, and wish most folks would ignore such behavior and let it slip quietly away. But many fans become outraged!

Sort of.

Because they aren't really outraged!

They are being entertained by sports, albeit peripherally. And to perpetuate the circle of fake outrage we need the media to deliver to the rubes what they so badly want.

Fake outrage!

As such, Jones' article in the Sun Herald is a complete joke.

So let me get this straight. Some Saints fans traveled to Chicago for the most important game in either team’s recent history and expected to be greeted as equals? Of course they were going to be heckled! Did the fact that their city was recently ravaged by a category 5 hurricane exempt them from the abuse every other team's fans would have expected in their place? Are you kidding me?

Were any visiting fans physically assualted? Jones never tells us, but my guess is no. A drunken fan can compete alongside the Terrell Owenses of the world in the Universe's Biggest Jackass competition, but it takes a special sort of sociopath to commit violence toward another human being. If physical hostility did occur, then perhaps Jones' story would have held a little water. But as it stands, his article is yet another dull contribution to the barrage of "which team's fans are the most uncouth?" stories endlessly recycled every year from here to ESPN.com to eternity.

Well, which fans are the most uncivilized? Oakland fans? Eagles fans? Browns fans? Oh, that's right—I guess we'll never know. And why is that? Because all the real fans could care less what the scurrilous sign-makers are doing.

They’re too busy watching the actual sport everyone supposedly loves so much.

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The Friday... Hutch?

Dear Hutch,
When my trusty editor Oline was but a wee minx, she wanted nothing in the world but to marry you. Then you went and accidentally offed yourself in an erotic adventure gone awry and that kind of killed the dream.

And yet... the dream could live on at JBB. Because nothing will come between me and my One True Man Love- not even death. Thus, you are still a viable contender and undoubtedly have my trusty editor Oline's vote (and Croftie's by extension- since those girls always stick together). I don't know about my hot wife though. She's not too keen on sexy ghosts.
XO!
Jables

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Review: Pan's Labyrinth

Toe-Sock In the Maze of Good & Evil

Villains are never quite as villainous as when we find them at home within the quaint confines of a fairy-tale.

In fairy-tales the moral gray tones that make up the bulk of our 'real world' ethical spectrum are boiled away and all that is left are Good and Evil in their rarified capitalized incarnations. Good becomes sparklingly noble, painfully virtuous, and more often than not, boring.

Evil, a force that is often exaggerated to begin with, gets amplified to the nth degree. The violence that fairy-tale villains employ is utterly base, excessive, over-conceived, and many times, artistically delightful. Sure their smiles may be wicked and cruel but at least they appear to be having a good time as their challengers toil away, never letting us forget how difficult it is to be truly just.

In a fairy-tale, just about everyone owes allegiance to one side or the other. But there are ways that a storyteller can muddy the waters. One way of subverting this black-and-white moral matrix is to introduce a child. Children are neither Good nor Evil. They are innocent. It's small wonder that we find so many of them leading us through enchanted woods and haunted labyrinths.

Enter Ofelia, the 12-year-old protagonist of El Labertino del Fauno (Pan's Labyrinth in America), the latest film by director Guillermo del Toro. Set in post-civil-war Spain, the film attempts to blur the boundaries between fairy-tale and reality. The story commences with the arrival of Ofelia and her very pregnant mother at their new home, an old mill in the mountains that has been fortified as a military outpost.

Ofelia's new stepfather, Capitán Vidal, distributes rations to the surrounding villages and leads his soldiers on expeditions into the woods to hunt for rebels. The Capitán is comically Evil in all the best ways. He is at turns horrifically violent, hasty, and thickheaded. He's unbelievably trusting of subordinates who hang around only to undermine his iron fisted rule for the cause of the Good. He tortures his victims and murders innocent people. All in all, not very nice.

Capitán Vidal is quickly established as Ofelia's chief antagonist. She escapes from his fascist household into the forest and is swift to find a nearby labyrinth because, um, what good is an old mill without its accompanying giant stone maze?

There, Ofelia stumbles upon an ancient prophesy and is initiated into an epic quest. To be reclaimed by her real father as the princess of the underworld, she must complete three tasks. Her forays into the labyrinth, although dangerous and terrifying, provide a welcome relief to her life at the mill where she must relentlessly evade her step-dad's fury. The film oscillates between events taking place in the 'real' world and those occurring in adjacent fantasy realms. These other realms literally exist in the margins, magically concealed behind secret doors that only Ofelia can open.

Even though the fantastic realms have been marginalized, del Toro is careful to blur the separation between the real world and the fantastic in subtle, disconcerting ways. Bullets from the rebels in the forest whiz by just as loudly as the faeries zooming around the labyrinth. The quests Ofelia must accomplish are simple and dire, mirroring the assignments that the rebels need to carry out to survive. These cinematic details, plot lines, and obstacles are designed to echo one another. They remind the viewer that, although these worlds may be separated spatially and behave by different rules, they share violence and the ever-present threat of death.

On an aesthetic level, Del Toro's creatures are wondrously imaginative and horrifying. They steal every scene. The fairies are simultaneously humanoid and deceptively bug-like. A large bloated toad turns one's stomach. The faun is a sight to behold; his character suggests incredible gentleness and compassion while betraying a potential for the most brutal of violent acts. Most horrifying, the Pale Man and his domain are the stuff of nightmares. He is a creature of the old Germanic fairy-tale tradition, the kind of corrupt monster with no redeeming qualities who feasts on infants. He may never be defeated, only eluded time and time again.

It is unfortunate that due to a marvelous trailer and previous experience with de Toro's equally stunning Devil's Backbone, I had built this film up to be some sort of life-changing event.

Pan's Labyrinth was great, but not quite the mind-boggling masterpiece I dreamed it would be. And it will no doubt be a masterpiece to many. At the very least it is a film everyone should see. See it for the faeries if nothing else.

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Meet the Manners Mistress

The Manners Mistress (watch yourself!) is a post-collegiate, pre-professional twenty-something transplanted from San Antonio to Chicago. A frequent passenger on Chicago's infamous #66 bus, Manners Mistress is JBB's resident expert on politesse. She likes celebrity gossip, skim cappucinos, and browsing in Anthropologie.

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The Manners Mistress

Every week, JBB’s very own Miss Manners will advise us on the etiquette that we post-collegiate, pre-professional, twenty-something sillyheads should already know but often forget. She’ll help us untangle the webs we weave, bandage the scrapes we get into, and shave the hairy situations we’d all like to ignore. With no further ado, here’s Miss Manners’ expert advice for the dining elite.

CHECKS & BALANCESBy The Manners Mistress

A friend came to me this morning with a story I’ve heard too many times. A big group goes out to dinner, people order food and drinks and have a great time until... the bill arrives. Everyone looks at it with pursed lips and an expression that says “I’m trying to add odd numbers.” Money is thrown on the table and some unfortunate soul counts the bills and announces that the pot is too small. What to do?

Probably, the more generous souls add more money until the bill is satisfied.

This system leaves much to be desired. Some people end up paying entirely too much. Those who don’t drink end up subsidizing their friends’ martinis and those with small appetites are forced to contribute to others’ three-course feasts. How can this problem be eradicated?

One solution to this dinner conundrum is to police the table and appoint someone the bill czar—“Was that one drink or two, Dave?” “Did you add chicken to the caesar, Marie?” But that approach will ensure that no one leaves happy. Separate checks drive servers crazy and with good reason—they have other tables to deal with.

How, then, can we solve the problem of dividing the bill? This may seem a bit elementary, but I need to make an important point here: If you’re having dinner with someone, you are probably her (or his) friend, i.e. “a person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.” Please heed the following lessons so that your friends can trust you to pay your portion of the bill.

Food & Drink, Tax & Tip

1) Your food and drink: If you ate it and drank it, you must pay for it. Round up to the nearest dollar and add a few more.

2) Tax: In major cities, we are forced to pay an almost 10% tax on everything we buy. If you’re reading this, I know you can figure out how to calculate 10%. Simply add that amount to the money you’re putting down for food and drink.

3) Tip: Unless the person who brought you food and drink drooled into it, you need to leave 20%. Twenty percent, people! If you can’t calculate that sum, then go back to step two and multiple the tax by 2.

And there you go—three simple steps towards becoming a better dining companion.
If everyone followed these rules, we would live in a world where friends don’t fall out from the stress of dividing the bill and servers don’t fantasize about spitting into the soup.

We may be pre-professional, but dammit, we’re not infantile.

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The Friday... Winwood?

Winnie,
I never before noticed how like a delicate Conan O'Brien you look. And I'm strangely attracted.
XOxooxOxoxoxXOXOXOXXOXoxXOXXOXOxoXXOXOxoxXXXXXXX,
Jables

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A JBB To Do

Featuring Jack Black's Bombshell!

Gorilla Tango Theatre
(773)598.4549
1919 N. Milwaukee Ave.
Chicago, IL 60647

Fridays & Saturdays, 19 Jan.-10 Feb. @ 8 pm
$12

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The Friday... Tesh?

Teshman,
Like most Americans, I know not what to make of you. In some ways you seem the encapsulation of the American dream. But then you strayed. You set out to become the New Yanni. But unlimited access to random foreign locales, bad hair, and a piano do not a Yanni make.
Jables

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Film Noir

Photographs By Miss Fitz

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Fashion Forward

Tips From The Fashionista
Commandment #3:
Matchy-Matchy, Theme Outfits,
& Other Aberrant Things One Should Avoid


My favorite Italian word is sprezzatura. You may have guessed it would be bella, and that’s a close second, but sprezzatura is a perfectly untranslatable word for the condition of looking like you’re not trying.

Anyone cool knows that the epitome of uncool is trying too hard. Sprezzatura implies that to look like you’re not trying involves a certain amount of effort—otherwise you just look like a slob. That artifice is part of sprezzatura’s beauty.

1. Matchy-Matchy.
This is a term we in the fashion world use with absolute derision. “Hmph! She’d be a cute girl if her clothes weren’t always so matchy-matchy.” “Look at his shirt! It’s the same color as the argyle in his sweater…that’s way too matchy-matchy.” Matchy-matchy connotes a certain pedestrian or bourgeois tendency, something associated with the suburban and the concept of trying too hard. Nothing identifies a tourist in New York City quite as easily as matching hat/gloves/scarf/bag/sneakers/umbrella/turtleneck. You see what I mean.

Now, there are some fashion pieces for which matching is necessary: suits, for example, are generally two items (a jacket and a skirt/trouser) made of the same fabric. Although you can wear your suit pieces as separates, they are the main exception to the moratorium on matchy-matchy. The best example of someone who successfully avoids dressing matchy-matchy is Sienna Miller; Kathie Lee Gifford would be the poster girl.

2. Theme Outfits
I must admit, theme outfits are possibly my greatest weakness, and consequently must be addressed publicly. October 31st is an entirely unimportant day to theme-outfit offenders—you know who you are—because you dress in costume EVERY DAY. Now, I’ve been known to have a “Bianca Jagger circa 1970 in Ibiza” outfit, or a “Grace Kelly in the Corniche d’Or scene of To Catch a Thief” outfit, and I realize that these things are wrong.

The most important thing about creating your own personalized style is to be able to glean the best elements of these iconic fashion moments, like Grace Kelly’s scarf or Bianca Jagger’s hat, and incorporate them in your own way. Mimicry ends up looking ridiculous, and heaven knows you could be headed towards the eventuality of waking up in the morning and dressing yourself like Shirley Temple in the film version of The Good Ship Lollipop. If you like to dress in costume, join the circus or throw a party.

3. The Canadian* Tuxedo
Like matchy-matchy, the term Canadian tuxedo is also used derisively to describe a specific outfit consisting of jeans and a denim jacket. The proliferation of denim in all forms and styles has created many more options for jeans and jackets than the standard-issue Levi’s, but variety of style does not compensate for homogeneity of denim.

I can already hear the chorus of “But my jeans are black and my jacket is blue—” But I don’t care. Wool blazers are so chic this season. Wear one with your jeans (bonus points for suede or corduroy elbow patches). Want to wear a denim jacket? Do it over a long sweater and leggings.

Style is and should always be a reflection of your personality, and who am I to judge if your personality dictates that your earmuffs should match your socks? I’ll tell you: it’s a cruel world out there, and you don’t want to be known as the purple earmuff girl when what you should really be known as is the brilliant post-modern one-act dramatist, or the fantastic flaky pastry chef.

There are enough colors, textiles, and designs out there for everyone, and they needn’t all be worn at once.

*Obviously, I cannot take credit for coining this term, as I harbor no disrespect for the fashion sense of our neighbors to the north. In fact, several of them have forgotten more about style than I’ll ever know. And just like us, some of them have simply forgotten about style.

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The Friday...G?

Dude.
This almost makes me want you. Almost. But not quite.
XOxOOXXOxoxoxoxXOXOXOXOXOXOXxoxXOxOXOOXOOxxXXX,
Jables

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Suspiciendo, Despicio: As above, so below

JBB's Bombshell On What the New Year Will Bring


Your Bombshell has gathered the research and consulted the charts, and the verdict is in: the word for 2007? Auspicious. 2008: fruition. 2006: big happenings. All right, that’s two words. But it’s hard to express an entire year in one word.

In the Western tradition, a horoscope is cast by charting the positions of celestial bodies from the astrologer’s physical perspective during a specific moment in time. Traditional thought has held that the planets and their positions relative to the constellations of the horoscope strongly correlate to human affairs on a global and individual level. The scientific community rejects this theory as a whole but allows for a few possibilities.

Isaac Newton’s theory of universal gravitation posited that the gravitational effects of the planets within our solar system are of sufficient strength to effect human behavior. Modern scientific thought holds that the universe acts as a single unit and any happening within it will inevitably be felt throughout its entirety; ie. the ripple effect, or chaos theory.

Your sign is indicative of the sun’s position at the time of your birth. Jyotish astrology, a Hindu tradition and the most ancient form of astrology, casts an individual’s horoscope based on the position of the moon, arguing that the moon is a closer and more sympathetic body.

Western astrology uses the position of the moon too; in the West, it is called your “rising sign.” Your rising sign is different than your Zodiac sign. For example, I’m a Capricorn, but my rising sign is Scorpio. Capricorns are supposed to be serious, sober, and frugal people; Scorpios fiery, flaky, and hedonistic. I’m writing an article on astrology while eating chocolate. Some of that chocolate is in my hair. I tend to pay more attention to the Scorpio horoscope.

Many people, especially women, find that they identify more with their rising sign. You can find your rising sign in any simple astrology book. If you really are a helpless little thing, drop me a line and I’ll find yours for you. I will of course need your date and time of birth and don’t forget the magic word, “leopard print.” All right, that’s two words. But it’s hard to appease the bombshell with just one.

This new year is a very good year for the winter signs: Sagittarius, Capricorn, and Aquarius. Last year, you summer people- Cancer, Leo, and Virgo- had a go as activity in the Cancer constellation was high. But we winter babies will benefit from proximity to Sagittarius, the constellation that will see the most activity this year.

The ruling planet in 2007 will be Jupiter, which is traditionally associated with hard work and good luck. Jupiter is also associated with publishing, financial gain, and commitment. So commit to getting that book published this year and you’ll make a bundle. Or find yourself a rich publisher and commit to him.

Jupiter is the “winner” planet, something we will all benefit from in the coming year. In addition to this good luck, we have very few retrogrades to wrench the gears. Last year saw dozens of retrogrades, periods in which a planet appears to be moving backwards due to the Earth’s passing on its orbit. Retrogrades are believed to bring bad luck, complication, and miscommunication. In 2006, Venus was in retrograde twice. This means a lot of couples fell in and out of love and probably back in love again.

Mercury was in retrograde four times. When Mercury is in retrograde, areas of finance, friendship, and future planning are compromised. Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Pluto, and Neptune all had periods of retrograde in 2006, culminating in the early fall until mid-November, when all five were retrograde at the same time. This was a highly unusual state of affairs. At least the first three quarters of last year were sloppy. Many plans went awry and many projects fell by the wayside.

We have very few retrogrades ahead in 2007. Mercury will retrograde in March, late June through early July, and October, so keep your head down during those times. Pluto will be in retrograde until September. Pluto is the planet of decision and duty, so you might find that you have a difficult time being tied down until then. But when Pluto goes direct again, it will travel through Capricorn, the sign of dedication, steadfastness, and tradition for nineteen full years.

Many astrologers predict a massive change in the world’s political stage during Pluto’s trip through Capricorn. The last time Pluto was in Capricorn, both the French and American revolutions occurred. The period between 2009 and 2011 seem to hold the most potential for such an upheaval. But before you get your combat boots on, remember that 2008 is anticipated to be the happiest year in decades. All signs point to the realization of many a dream then.

Last year was a character-building year in which ideas were challenged and the going was slow. The planets were against us. But take heart—whatever your endeavor may be, 2007 promises to generously reward those who keep their eyes on the prize. Love, your career, that burlesque class— anything you turn your attention towards in the coming year will benefit from your efforts. Ben Franklin once said, “Work hard, get lucky,” and that seems to be the motto of 2007.

Happy travels, babies. The planets will be with us!

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