Cultural melange.

* David Gill reviews Christopher Miller's fictionalized biography of Philip K. Dick, A Cardboard Universe: A Guide to the World of Phoebus K. Dank, for Boing Boing.

* Judy Han's dissertation on Korean-American Christian missionaries and U.S. imperialism is available in comic form. (Via @barbarahui.)

* A nine-word story that will take one thousand years to read. Kottke says this problem is just crying out for good old-fashioned American know-how.

* The five people still watching Heroes will be devastated when they find out Bryan Fuller's left again.

* NPR remembers Harvey Kurtzman and the heyday of Mad Magazine.

* Trending upward today: references to Paul Simon's "Kodachrome."

Can Bryan "Company Man" Fuller save Heroes? Fresh from the (sigh) cancellation of Pushing Daisies, he's looking like the show's last hope.

AUSIELLO: Where did Heroes go wrong, in your opinion?

BRYAN FULLER: It became too dense and fell into certain sci-fi trappings. For instance, in the “Villains” arc, when you talk about formulas and catalysts, it takes the face off the drama. And I think the goal for everybody is to put a face back on the drama. You have to save something with a face; otherwise you don’t understand what you’re caring about. I thought the "Villains" arc started out very interestingly, and then became sort of muddy and dense and I couldn't get my hooks into the characters to understand their motivations. I also started to feel confused about what people's abilities were. One of the great things about the first season is that the metaphor for their abilities was very clear. Those metaphors seem to have gotten complicated in the past two seasons. I share that concern with everybody on the writing staff. It's not like I'm coming in and saying, "This is what you need to do to fix it!" Everybody knows what needs to be fixed and everybody is sort of rowing in that direction.

How to save Heroes: Kill the show, salvage what you can in spin-offs. Via io9.

Monday, Monday.

* The Criterion Collection Bottle Rocket is out tomorrow. Here's the Amazon link.

* Nate Silver projects Al Franken will win by 27 votes.

* The World's Best Colleges and Universities. Duke clocks in at #13, but more important, longtime domestic loser Case Western (#90) beats Tufts (#156) in the far more important world rankings, finally giving Neil the humiliation he deserves.

* Amanda Marcotte had the bright idea of reading Mad Men alongside some of the literary texts it makes allusions to, most notably the Frank O'Hara poem that bookends the season, "Meditations in an Emergency."

* Longtime reader Eli Glasner has a great new film blog.

* 10 Stories Behind Dr. Seuss stories. Thanks, Lindsay!

* "Who Stole My Volcano? Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Dematerialisation of Supervillain Architecture." Via Neilalien.

* A school in New York has already been renamed for Barack Obama. Students initiated the renaming.

* The things you learn from Poli-Sci-Fi Radio: Val Kilmer is mulling a run for governor of New Mexico. Kilmer's only the second-worst Batman, but the one I think I'd want least in elected office.

* Top 25 Comic Book Battles. #1: Batman vs. Superman from The Dark Knight Returns.

* Heroes creator Tim Kring has apologized for calling his fans dipshits. Remember, a gaffe is when you accidentally tell the truth...

We've talked before, more than once, about the incredible, world-historical suckiness of the second season of Heroes—so it's no surprise that the ratings were way down for the third season premiere. SF Signal, io9, and Ezra Klein all rightly panned the episode, which was very much a creative disaster. In addition to going back to the "Bad Future" illusion-of-plot gimmick—again—the show reminded me of nothing so much as a comic book with a new creative team: a hurried attempt to establish a new status quo and story engine as fast as possible and damn the logic of any of it. Heroes continues to borrow the very worst of comics, in other words, their disposability and their triviality—and takes nothing of the best.

For those who missed it, this was a real scene from the episode:

HIRO'S DEAD DAD (ON DVD): Hiro, there's a safe in this office. Never open it.
HIRO: I'm gonna open that safe.
HIRO'S DEAD DAD (ON DVD): Okay, so you opened the safe. But don't lose the piece of paper inside!
HIRO: [loses paper] Whoops!

Really, really, really very bad.

Internet Tuesday!

* Parsippany, NJ, is looking to put up red light cameras that know you only came to a rolling stop before turning right on red. Dystopia is now.

* Are we already nostalgic for the Bush era? Salon investigates using the leaked trailer for Oliver Stone's W as its source text.

* Via Boing Boing, Crooked Timber has a pretty good piece up about the vacuity of the commonplace rhetoric that "managers of corporations have a fiduciary duty to maximize corporate profits." It turns out, of course, that this duty actually refers to nothing in particular and can be used to justify any action.

So we’re left with “maximise the present value of future profits”, or maximise the intrinsic value of the company, which is already a bit of a problem because our maximand is now an intrinsically unobservable quantity, which reasonable people can differ wildly in their subjective assessment of. But even if we grant a massive epistemological free lunch and pretend that managers have a set of reliable conditional forecasts of the consequences of different courses of action, we’re still surprisingly far from a workable decision rule.

The reason is that all the paradoxes of choice theory which arise at the individual level are still there when you try to impose a maximisation rule for corporate decisions. For example, it can’t possibly be the case that we want an interpretation of “maximise the value of the shareholders’ equity” to mean that corporate managers have a fiduciary duty to play the (Defect) strategy in a business situation analogous to a Prisoner’s Dilemma game. Or for that matter to be two-boxers in a business situation analogous to Newcomb’s Problem (such situations are incredibly common, as the kind of deals you are offered are very definitely related to people’s assessment of whether you’re the kind of guy who grabs every nickel he sees). Economists can ignore these problems and paradoxes in choice theory with a shrug of the shoulders, a mutter of “oh ordinary people, will you never learn” and a few quid for the Experimental Economics lab. But fiduciary duties are important things, so if we’re going to make our maximisation criterion into a fiduciary duty, then we have to interpret it in a way which allows for strategic behaviour.

* And the Pinocchio Theory has a similarly good post on capitalism, consumerism, and waste.

We are forced, as Karatani says, to buy back as consumers the very goods that we initially created as producers, and that were taken away from us. This “alienation” is the reason why my subjective jouissance as a consumer has nothing to do with my objectified toil as a producer. I do not consume in the same way that I produce. Even the money that I spend wastefully and gleefully, as a consumer, on (as Deleuze and Guattari say) “an imposed range of products (’which I have a right to, which are my due, so they’re mine’)” seems utterly disconnected from the money that I earn painfully in wages or salary — despite the fact that it is, of course, exactly the “same” money. It is only, and precisely, in such a climate of disconnection that “acts of consumption” can be exalted as our only possible “expressions of freedom.” Or, as Graeber puts it, “rather than one class of people being able to imagine themselves as absolutely `free’ because others are absolutely unfree,” as was the case under slavery, in consumer capitalism “we have the same individuals moving back and forth between these two positions over the course of the week and working day.”

* Corrections to Last Month's Letters to Penthouse Forum.

* List of fictional films from Seinfeld.

* And, via Neilalien, an in-depth investigation of why Star Trek: The Next Generation should actually be understood as a creative failure, in two parts. This sums it up pretty much exactly—like all huge nerds of a particular age I remember the show rather fondly, but it's no accident that it's been fifteen years since I watched an episode. And the point about "alternate universe" episodes is especially well-taken:

"Best of Both Worlds" has only one real rival for the title of "best TNG episode": "All Good Things". It's one of the best -- if not, hell, the best series finale I've ever seen. It summed up, in two hours, everything that was good about the show, as well as putting much of the preceding seven years to shame in terms of showcasing interesting, well-written, dynamic and downright awesome sci-fi writing. It deals with alternate realities -- TNG was always good when it dealt with alternate realities, probably because they could get away with the illusion of consequence in alternate realities where things could actually "happen", at least sort-of. Most importantly, watching "All Good Things", the viewer can fool themselves into thinking that there really was an alternate-universe TNG where all that cool character development and sharp writing came together every week, and not just a handful of times over the course of 178 freakin' episodes. But of course, since it was the last episode, they probably thought they could get away with actually changing things up a bit. A shame, that.

I liked "Parallels" and "The Inner Light", two more alternate-reality episodes that actually seemed to cut to the heart of the respective spotlight characters -- Worf, in a rare non-Klingon-centric starring role, and Picard himself. Again, though, in order to find something interesting to say about the characters, the writers had to go out of their way to concoct Rube Goldberg plot machines that would allow for emotional arcs without messing with the precious status quo. If you start looking, you can find a lot of episodes that go to the same well: there's always something to trigger or mitigate unusual behavior, something to excuse the characters from acting like real people as soon as they put on those damn Starfleet unitards.

Even now you see Heroes doing the same sort of thing with their repetitive "Bad Future" arcs, which give the illusion of plot rather than plot itself.

Word has what looks like a great interview with the great Alan Moore, though unfortunately only bits of it are online. NeilAlien links to excerpts, as well as bits that were cut from the print version at Word itself.

Word:You're very scathing on the state of today's superhero comics. Did you watch Heroes?

Moore: I was persuaded to watch it by people who said it nods to Watchmen but God, what a load of rubbish! It's a late-70s X-Men at best and full of terrible ideas and characters who've all been done to death. Beyond death. And the writing shows such contempt for the viewer. The climax, a man who is going to explode is carried off into the air by his brother... did anybody bother to compare the effects of a groundburst with an airburst nuclear explosion? I'll take the former over the latter, thanks. This is supposed to be the sort of thing that superhero stories are good at. I tell you, if we are ever threatened with a scenario like that in real life I hope the superheroes aren't American because we'll be sunk.

Word: Graphic novels like Watchmen, V For Vendetta and Frank Miller's Dark Knight Returns were supposed to usher in a new era of comics for adults. What went wrong?

Moore: Ah yes, the new era of grown-up comics! That worked out, didn't it? There really should have been more to comics than 20 years of grim, nasty remakes of Watchmen. The comics world was very optimistic in the late 80s and maybe what we thought was the beginning was actually the high point......And the other side of the comics industry, the achingly trendy, avant garde books, they're mired in a teenage worldview too. All they provide are comfort eating comics about neuroses and the emptiness of modern life and fear of dying alone.

I'm intrigued too by the hints about his next project, Jerusalem:

Moore: The idea is to rewrite the human paradigm of life after death in an entirely rational way. All your questions about the meaning of life and where we go when it ends will be answered, I guarantee. It'll be about 750,000 words and physically thicker than any book before. They're going to have to invent quantum glue to hold it together.

...once we Americans have ushered a writer into the contemporary pantheon, we will lie to ourselves to keep him there. Brutal review of Denis Johnson's latest in the Atlantic.

This made me think of nothing so much as the second season of Heroes, actually, and this truth-to-power comment I saw on the SF Signal review of the mid-season finale:

Watching you guys come to realize how awful this show is, but still refuse to admit that it was awful from the beginning, is like watching the Bush administration talk about Iraq. Even when they finally could admit that things weren't going well, they still insisted that it was news, that "we all fell for the same faulty intelligence", as if Hans Blix never told the UN that there were no WMD and as if there weren't massive protests all across the country before the war even started. They refuse to accept that they were lying to themselves from the start by lying to themselves now and convincing themselves that "no one could have predicted" that anything would go wrong. You guys are never going to admit that this has been a godawful show since day one. It's always going to be about how "season two sucks". You're so afraid to face that fact that you've been watching this worthless piece of shit for this long that you're going to keep pretending it's just seasons two to make yourself feel better about having ever watched season one. Because if you actually faced the truth, that you could have watched even one season of a show this bad, you would have no choice left but to kill yourselves.

I'm not quite ready to kill myself, but he's surely right: the second season of Heroes has accomplished nothing so much as pointing out that the first season wasn't actually good, either, despite seeming like it was kind-of sort-of good at the time. There's just no "there" there, and there never was—like Lost before it, the creators seemed to have no idea what they actually wanted to do with the show after it accidentally caught on.

Memo to creators: Plan out your shows.

Obviously posting took a backseat to real-life nonsense today. But I did look at the Internets. Here's what I looked at.

* The House Next Door and SF Signal try to figure out whether this season of Heroes is back on track.

* Gang of 100? Via Lenin's Tomb, Columbia president Lee Bollinger receives a "statement of concern" from over 100 faculty members partly in response to his poor behavior during Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's visit.

* Nicholas Guyatt reviews Chris Hedges's American Fascists: The Christian Right and the War on America for London Review of Books. I linked to Hedges a bit on the old blog earlier in the year, when this book was getting a lot of hype—I'm curious why this review comes so late. I'm also surprised to see Guyatt take such a skeptical attitude towards Hedges's thesis. I haven't read American Fascists, but my impression has been that the book is about the (very real) dominionist movement within American evangelicism, not an assertion that all evangelicals are dominionists. And what to make of this:

It would be a mistake to imagine that the religious right has controlled American politics for the past quarter-century. Despite the present spate of books decrying a fundamentalist takeover of the Republican Party, there has been plenty for evangelicals to complain about even since the triumphs of Bush and Karl Rove. As Thomas Frank argued in 2004 in his book What’s the Matter with Kansas?, the striking thing about the Republican alliance with evangelicals has been the thinness of their legislative achievements: abortion is still legal, campaigners for gay rights have made real strides and the wall between church and state remains largely intact in American classrooms. Frank suggested that legislators had pulled off a confidence trick in their courting of evangelicals.

The truth is precisely this: the religious right has controlled American politics for the past quarter-century without actually getting any of the things they want. What happens when they finally realize they've been hoodwinked? Hedges has this right; the business wing of the Republican Party is locked into an alliance with powerful and dangerous forces it will not necessarily be able to control forever.

* NYU students would trade their right to vote for an iPod. Can you blame them? In a country so completely gerrymandered on both a macro (Electoral College) and micro (Congressional district) scale, voting is more or less a fraud across the board. The vote of someone living in New York City isn't even worth an iPod; the vote of someone in Florida or Ohio, maybe, but only just.

* Train passengers face routine airline-style bag checks and body searches as part of a new counter-terror crackdown announced by Gordon Brown. Next up, strip searches. Freedom isn't free.

Heroes showrunner: "Yes, Season 2 sucks. Sorry."

"Too much, too fast" for NBC's Heroes? SF Signal says maybe not, but I'm skeptical. I'm one of the few people who wasn't that displeased with the finale, but then I never thought the show was all that groundbreaking in the first place. Smart money is definitely on the show pulling a Lost in the second season, unless the showrunners spent the summer thinking things over carefully and planning things out—which showrunners never, ever do.