MH370: Hobbit Director Peter Jackson’s Private Jet Aids Search
A private jet owned by “Lord of the Rings” and “The Hobbit” director Sir Peter Jackson is involved in the search for missing Malaysia Airlines flight MH370, New Zealand media reported Wednesday.
The Gulfstream G650 is being used as a communications relay for military aircraft searching for wreckage of the Boeing 777, officials at Australia’s Joint Agency Co-ordination Centre told Radio NZ and the New Zealand Herald newspaper.
This doesn’t surprise me at all. It seems in character for what I’ve deduced about Peter Jackson. Part of that conclusion is predicated on the belief the cryptic post Larry Curtis made about unreported acts of kindness had something to do with Jackson.
I received a lot of mail about the Anglophile Channel’s interview of Richard Armitage before it was broadcast. The consensus of a significant number of the notes seemed to be three questions: who are these people? how can they interview Richard Armitage when they’re not Entertainment Tonight or CNN or even TheOneRing [or insert some other well known media outlet or website]? And why would Richard subject himself to it?!
It seems fairly obvious these fans thought that site was bogus at worst and not important enough at best.
Meanwhile the rest of the world moved on.
And where did everyone else go? They moved into the new age of media which is far from limited to a few established networks and sites. It just doesn’t work that way anymore and hasn’t in a while. The new media is this. No, I mean this, what you are looking at right now. If you have a site, you are a media producer. Heck, if you have a cell phone, you are a media producer. And that is the shift some resist — consumers have become producers.
Henry Jenkins explains this evolution of media including the reemergence of participatory culture and the rise of convergence culture (more on Jenkins shortly):
Nowhere have participatory and convergence cultures been more ubiquitous than among fandoms. Look at all of the media it has produced and intersected with traditional media. In this particular fandom, which is not even close to the largest, we have produced a large body of media such as artwork, video, stories, and reporting, and more traditional outlets have tapped into it. Hollywood is also looking at that and co-opting the fervor as they feel they can, and one of the early adopters was Peter Jackson. The main reason is Jackson is a fanboy himself and understands and appreciates the ardor. It’s no surprise he was looking at fan sites back in 1997 and developed a relationship with Harry Knowles. It’s no surprise he let a New Zealand resident, who created a a site about The Lord of the Rings movies, onto the sets to document the progress for fans. Jackson gets it, and as well as his artistry, it is a key part of his success.
This evolution of media has been happening for a long time, and I should have been more aware of its progress given my exposure to the power of the Net early on. Nevertheless, I watched that video above in the Fall of 2009 and became fascinated again and read Jenkins’ book, Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide. Interestingly, I realized while I was reading that I had another book on my shelves by Jenkins. It’s a seminal work on fandom, and it came into my possession over 20 years ago.
When I worked at IBM, there was a graphic designer, Bob, whom I and all my co-workers tapped for “prettying up” our documents. He was a major Trekkie who had written his own language and had a beautiful poster of it as well as some other Trekkie memorabilia decorating his office. Everyone teased him about his obsession, but I was curious what had made him so rabid. We had several conversations over the years about his involvement in the Star Trek fandom, and I remember saying early on, “You must be really into this to put up with the ribbing you get.” I’ll never forget his response, “People don’t get it, and I don’t care. I enjoy it, and it’s a great creative outlet.” It was about a fairly judgment free environment for his creative efforts. He had been to art school, and according to him there was a very oppressive mentality there. One that said if you didn’t do it a certain way, you were no good. Fandom welcomed him and allowed him to make mistakes. That thought stayed with me, and perhaps I was a fan in the making even then. About two years later as I was leaving the company, Bob gave me the Jenkins’ book, Textual Poachers: Television Fans and Participatory Culture. I didn’t read it until 16 years later.
Those two books changed my view of media and creative outlet, and in late 2009, I began to see my personal blog as something different and eventually became frustrated with it. I also began to become more involved in the blogosophere with the thought that I had ideas and didn’t want to just consume others’ ideas. By happenstance I developed a very rewarding relationship of give and take with a powerful media player in England. He is in fact one of the founders of Empire Magazine. There I was exchanging ideas with him, and having a blast and I think he was too, and I was realizing the world really had gotten tiny and huge at the same time. I adored that, so when I started this site, I knew there was power in blogging. But I feel compelled to say to some in this fandom who are determined to cast people as connivers, that I did not start this site with an eye toward capitalizing on that kind of power. Are you kidding me?!! I was scared to death someone would find out I was running this place. But I don’t think it would have been wrong if I had been motivated by that. I just wasn’t. I was simply desperate to say something without every little part of it being nitpicked. Whatever fortuitous things have happened to me here as some sort of result, have just happened with no one more surprised than me. All just further confirmation of the power of the new media.
And now I come to the Anglophile interview with Richard Armitage. For a few hours after I watched the promo video for the interview, I had the same view of Marlise Boland so many others of the spectatorial era seemed to have. This idea that she was out of bounds! But a little time later, I mentally slapped myself for two reasons. I recognized she was seizing a marvelous opportunity of the new media, and more important to me is she was a female who was trying to start a business. Why would I want to demean that? Thankfully the better part of me quickly came to my senses and didn’t. I haven’t even seen the interview yet, but I support her efforts. You go, Girl!
If you think about it, this meeting was a natural for Richard for two reasons:
1) He has already made it plain he’s fan friendly. Hello! Have you read this page?
2) Who has he been hanging out with for three years?
I have no clue what he’s saying, but I have the feeling I’m going to use this cap again. :D
note: Henry Jenkins was the Co-Director of Comparative Media Studies program at MIT and is now a Professor at the USC Annenberg School for Communication, and someone I would love to interview.
I’ve gone on to read quite a bit about fan culture and the new media as well as quite a few sociology books. It now takes up an entire bookshelf. Very enlightening, and I’m sure I’ll be talking more about this. Maybe not on this blog. I’m not sure yet.
Bernie Hare is on a mission, and I am more than willing to go along with where he leads. I have spent the last 16 years of my life trying to give something back, and if I can improve that ability by observing the Shed Crew’s world, I will do it happily.
The recent state of affairs (could be 2005 or later):
The present situation with this group has probably not changed much hence the reason for the movie. Hare wants to get the word out even more than the book was able to facilitate, and I embrace what he’s doing heartily. Yep, I already said it again but I feel compelled to say it again. There is nothing more heartbreaking than to watch people, kids in particular, go off the cliff, and you know it doesn’t have to be that way. You want to try almost anything to keep it from happening.
No Richard Armitage in this, but I had to commemorate for myself if nothing else.
SO got a kidney transplant. About this time of day he was conked out, and the doctor came out of surgery to tell me everything was great and SO would be up in a couple of hours.
Then the fun really started as a roller coaster ride with SO’s meds, his condition, Social Security, Medicare, and ah, those trips to the ER. In the middle of all of it, I started a business, which I thank God is doing very well.
Crazy as all of that sounds, I would do it again if it meant SO would be as he is today — returned from the near dead. And every part of the experience has made me much more grateful for everyday from here on out. It’s not knowing what’s going to happen tomorrow or even the next few hours which makes me ever conscious of basking in what is good and not getting my knickers in a twist about things that do not matter.
And there’s our friend Mike, who was so kind and gracious to donate his kidney. For that I can never give enough thanks, but I’ll keep trying.
Thank you also to all of you who have sent me so many kind words of encouragement and often at times when I needed it most. You will never know how much that means.
I just read the news. He was young! We’ll miss you Harold. You gave me years of laughs, and it meant so much.
[a scene from Stripes]
What I really loved was his great writing. Groundhog Day is a masterpiece.
No Ramis in this photo, but I love this scene and loved it and loved it. And a little trivia that no one cares about but makes me chuckle. Steven Tobolowsky is the son of the pediatrician I saw as a kid. He’s nothing like his dad who was a bit of a stuffed shirt and never laughed much less smiled. Would have loved a Ramis’ comedy about doctors now that I think of it!
All of this has me with a hankering to rev up my version of a blog award — The Do Wah Diddy Diddy.
Valentine’s Day happened, and I had the response I usually do which is no response. But the first year I was married, I became self-conscious about not celebrating Valentine’s. That was before I learned SO refused to be put in a box. Originally I thought it was a cop out on his part as most guys don’t like Valentine’s. But it turned out he was more romantic than I was.
And along the way I’ve figured out I’m not really sure how this love thing is to be done. I just know how SO and I have done it, and I’m satisfied with it. I’m satisfied with this man who has been charming, funny, witty and kind, and also gotten me out of my doldrums and self-centeredness on so many occasions. If he had not done that, I know I would have missed out on so many good times. Like the times afforded by his company who would give him a new car every couple of years, and he got to select it, and conservative me never would have picked this car, but SO did:
and off we went down the highways and byways and always with a song to begin. This one:
The first time he put on that song, I rolled my eyes. He laughed and said, “Lighten up!” I did and quickly realized that song has the ability to put me in a mood which shouts, “Anything good can happen today!”
He followed that song with this one below, and while it was playing, he would usually look over at me and grin, which was actually a leer, and I would receive his message. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EEEzbFxEbB8
As I got into what we were doing, I began to have my favorites for the road. First was this:
Before we knew it, we were up to three 90 minute tapes. We wore those tapes out going to San Francisco for July 4th, Washington D.C. for New Year’s, Florida for President’s Day, and many other trips. Some during holidays and some not. The best ones were spontaneous. We would have a few days off, get in the car, just start driving, and see where it took us. One time we ended up near Canada but didn’t have time to go across the border. We did that another time. And that may not sound like much, but we lived in Texas at the time.
SO went on to pick some other really cool vehicles while he worked for that company, and I have fond memories of all of them but mostly of him sitting in them.
Today I was remembering these things as I’ve done so many times, and I asked myself, “Who needs a Valentine when you have all of this?” I surely don’t and have not missed it.
No Richard Armitage segue other than to say:
Richard,
I hope you can find someone whom you can live, laugh and love with. It is sweet.
Signed,
A Crazy Fan who’s not that crazy about Valentine’s
I made a playlist of some of our road songs. They’re in no particular order but the first two, and it’s certainly not all of them. SO reminded me of a few I had forgotten. But I was too lazy to add them and leave you with a sampling indicative of our tastes.
edit: this post is in no way a commentary on the Valentine’s love being spread amongst fans. I think that’s great! :) This post is a response to myself. I’ve bitched about so much in life that I wanted to bask in something I should be ridiculously grateful for.
The recent brouhaha about Richard Sherman is not important to me in itself. I don’t care what he said after the NFC Championship. I do care that he was called a thug. Actually, I don’t care much about that either because I don’t care what goes on in the sports world. My eyes glaze over thinking about the sports world. But I understand from SO, who is into what goes on there (translation: he reads the sports pages religiously), that some people have made way too much out of Sherman’s statements and erroneously called him a thug.
What I really care about is Sherman’s characterization of the word. He’s certainly entitled to fight back when he’s been unfairly ostracized for what he said. But he’s overreacting and trying to change the meaning of a word for all of us and to something racist. I’m calling vigorous bullshit on that. Thug does not mean the n-word. Maybe to some select group out there it might, but thug does not mean the n-word to most people. To most it still means someone who is up to no good and often a bully.
I resent like hell that I feel pressured to qualify any future use of that word. What I really resent is the news media co-opting words so they become inflammatory and to use them may immediately brand someone a racist. Who wants to keep up with that? To keep up with what you can and cannot say on every little bitty word so that you do not offend anyone, anywhere at anytime? Do you want to live in that world?
If I were paranoid, I would think Mr. Sherman is a Marxist. That’s a bridge too far, but he is displaying Marxist tendencies to change the language and take control. Maybe he feels compelled to take control, but this isn’t the way to do it. But maybe he’s figured something out that the rest of us need to be very aware of in the future — to control the language is to control the thoughts of people. I wish I had a citation to back that up, but I’m too lazy to look it up. This is supposed to be a fun place remember? (Forgive me this piece please.) I just know from study about a hundred years ago in college, that Marxism uses language to shape groups of people. I also understand from SO that Sherman is brilliant intellectually as well as athletically. We’ll see how his gambit plays out. I guess he needs to get the press as his tool to be successful.
Bottom line for me: to the readers of this blog and anyone who knows me in real life interactions, I’m going to use the word thug when I want to use it, and it will not mean the n-word.
And for the record, the autograph thugs were all white guys. Just sayin’.
I promise I’m going to get back to Richard Armitage. I always do!
But for now, can I vent for a moment? Yeah, I’m going to do it anyway.
I despise meetings. Not because they aren’t necessary sometimes, but because most people don’t come prepared, and then they don’t know when to shut up after they get there.
And if there is no written agenda? Oy.
Write a frigging agenda and stick to it.
All of this is to say I’ve been in a meeting with a group since 8:30 this morning, and it’s 1:10 now, and I just got loose a few minutes ago. I was about to say, “You are serving lunch to us, right?”
To answer my own question from above, I don’t have the time. I’m meeting myself — coming and going — which is generally how I like it since I hate being bored. I despise that even more than meetings. Problem is that boredom and meetings often go hand in hand.
Thought for the day: a person who can run a meeting efficiently is worth their weight in gold and pretty scarce.
Okay, I’m done. For now. ‘Cause this damn meeting should not take up any more of my time.
A picture of Richard Armitage for me and for you, the poor soul who read this rant:
Yeah, Rich, that was the look on my face when I left the meeting, but I’m feeling better now that I’ve inflicted my frustration on cyber world.
It’s interesting how some things don’t change. The incessant need for women to define themselves by their relationship status hasn’t changed much — women’s liberation, no women’s liberation, it still seems to be a big part of a woman’s identity. But there’s hope. Some do not define themselves by this, and it’s refreshing to know:
I’m over relationship statuses. After reading that first sentence my friend who is a journalist will say something snarky like, “Laura, you can’t be over relationship statuses because a relationship status is a state-of-being not a very small puppy you are watching pee on a tree, so, technically you can’t be ‘over relationship statuses.’”
So, I’ll rephrase, I’m sick and tired of reading about relationship statuses, particularly females’ relationship statuses. I’m not talking about seeing somebody update their relationship status on Facebook from engaged to I-hate-this-guy-get-ready-to-decipher-hidden-meanings-in-all-my-fire-breathing-comments, nor am I referring to the status found in the three-component theory of stratification, philosopher Max Weber created to describe people’s economic/social worth.
This isn’t a critical commentary on fandom or my being a fangirl, or maybe it is. I’m not sure yet. Frankly, I would have loved to have participated more in the Berlin premiere festivities and all that’s ensued since. I just couldn’t. The events of my life for the last two and half weeks have been consuming and surreal. But first a little history.
For those who haven’t figured it out yet, and I think I said it one time on blog, SO is a vicar in a small town. Yes, that’s right, I’m Harry Kennedy. ;-) And as SO’s significant other, I’ve seen and done many things that sometimes confound me at how life has turned out. When I was pondering what I would be when I grew up, I don’t think anything to do with a vicar ever factored into it. And if someone had told me I would be intimately involved with a vicar, I would have laughed until I wet my pants. For the record, SO wasn’t a vicar for the first almost 20 years I knew him.
But SO being a vicar the last several years means we often deal with tragedy and sometimes deal with death. And when I say deal with it, I mean not only going where tragedy and death have occurred on occasion in order to help the people involved but also having an open door policy to our home, so that hurting and devastated people can come see us when they want. When my kids were little, we put a limitation on this, but despite that, my children have seen and heard a lot of what goes on in the world that’s ugly. We have had drunk people, beat up people, devastated people in our living room on many, many occasions. As to death, SO and I also see the side that most of the public does not see very often if at all — being with someone when they die, the coroner coming to call, the undertaker showing up not long after and sometimes witnessing the devastation left by someone who has killed himself. These are experiences I’ve had countless times since we moved to this place.
To top that off, for over ten years I sat on the board of a cemetery district which oversees cemeteries in a few of the little towns around here, and when you deal with small cemeteries, it means you may be overseeing burials. I’ve overseen countless burials and a couple of reburials, and that includes sometimes standing in an open grave. I remember one time standing in a particular grave where a woman being buried was to be placed beside her parents, who had died about 70 years earlier. When we were preparing the grave, the ground was very soft, and the coffin of one of her parents had shifted a little so that its corner was poking into the woman’s grave site. I looked over and the wood had rotted enough on the buried coffin that there was a hole big enough for my hands to fit in up to my shoulders, and I could see some of the blousy liner coming out of the hole. Yeah, that was creepy, but I got over it.
And I’ve gotten over so many things. Looking at a hole in a buried coffin is nothing. I’ve gotten over being with two teenage boys in the counseling room at the high school when SO told them (at their mother’s request) their dad had committed suicide an hour before, and they had to be told so that the town’s people wouldn’t break it to them. I got over watching a man rejected by his father on the father’s deathbed. I got over one of my closest friend’s sons being lost in the river and being with her when Search and Rescue came to tell her several days later that his body had been found 8 miles down the river. He was 18. I got over the guy down the street shooting himself in the head with a shotgun, and SO and I being asked to come to the place before it had been cleaned up. And I could go on and on with much worse.
Maybe I’m not completely over these things as it’s hard to type this. But when I say I’ve gotten over something, I mean enough to bounce back and do what needs to be done. That’s always been my best ability — to roll with the punches no matter what they are, and I’ve done it and done it and done it, but on Monday, December 9th and the following days, I was almost in a zombie like state.
What created my malaise was three deaths occurring the week before and then about 15 minutes before the premiere started, I got a call about a dear friend of mine who had been careflighted to the city and died within a few hours. No one knew she was ill. The next day I was talking to another friend and said to her how it’s eerie these things usually happen in threes, but this time it was four. As soon as I said it, I stopped and had the horrible thought that this was the beginning of the second three. The next day two more deaths occurred.
All of this is a very small part of the terrible events I’ve come close to over the last 15 years. I ask myself sometimes if it’s only SO’s profession which makes me privy to so much heartache. That’s some of it, but I’m not sure. I don’t know anything except that tragedy has become the norm. Most days I can deal with it, but sometimes I get overwhelmed, and I think that’s a good sign. May I never become so accustomed to horror that it has no effect on me.
Is there any wonder why I want to be lighthearted and laugh when I come here? Does that mean Richard Armitage or anyone else is a lesser person? I hope not. Just know that my blog and many of my comments are supposed to be fun for the most part, and to make it something that is life and death is not my intent, and that’s not a judgment on anyone else. It’s where I’m coming from.
Given all of this, I don’t want to forget the point, which is to love people as God loves, help others as often as I can, and never weary of doing good. And I appreciate this:
And I keep listening to this:
I had to get this post out of my system. Now that it’s done maybe I can get back to cutting up. And I’ll be giving my review of Desolation of Smaug and not whimping out by letting SO do it for me as I did last year. Just need to go see the movie and keep staying away from other reviews and spoilers.
RAFrenzy 