How to Live Safely in a Science Fiction Universe

I am only about 50 pages into Charles Yu's How to Live Safely in a Science Fiction Universe, and already I love it so much. It involves time travel, but it is not literally about time travel, the way my favorite science fiction novels are not about the future as much as they are about humanity.

I recommend it, but only for some people. If you're a huge sci-fi novel fan, this actually may not be the novel for you, as it's much more introspective and much less plot-driven than the most popular sci-fi novels. Read the Publishers Weekly pan on the Amazon detail page. It will turn off most people, and some of you will find it intriguing. Those are the ones who should probably buy it.

[Related: Almost none of my favorite books have a 5-star average review on Amazon. In fact, most books I've picked up with an average of 5-star reviews on Amazon are disappointing, especially if reviewed in heavy volume. My theory: anything sufficiently bold and interesting will cause some readers discomfort, and anything that's reviewed so universally positively by so many people is probably either too bland to be of interest to me or too partisan to merit reviews from those with opposing viewpoints.]

Modernizing found footage

I'm excited for Guillermo del Toro's Pacific Rim, the 2013 sci-fi film featuring giant robots fighting giant monsters. I watched a lot of that stuff as a kid, it's all nostalgic fun. So I should be more excited by this viral teaser trailer of found footage.

But in this age in which so man people walk around carrying iPhones or digital cameras that shoot HD video, I no longer have patience for the type of super shaky handheld footage that is used in movies built around found footage, especially when it's used as a tactic to avoid having to more clearly render a digital monster. It's a crutch that no longer feels credible.

In a city like San Francisco, the tech capitol of the world, if a monster destroyed the Golden Gate Bridge, YouTube would be hosting high-def footage from dozens of citizens in no-time, and with the iPhone's video stabilization and HD quality, it would be very sharp and watchable, albeit perhaps shrouded in some bizarre nostalgia filter or obscured by the occasional finger in one corner.

This is just a viral video, so they may be rigging this to maintain suspense, but in this day and age it stands out. It reminds me of another movie crutch, the use of the old school answering machines so that the audience can hear a voicemail being left or played back. It's usually a way to transmit information to the audience but keep information from a character (because they're one of the few people who still doesn't carry a cell phone in 2012). Given the lousy cell phone coverage today, I far prefer calls that can't be completed because of poor cell coverage. That's at least plausible.

By the time Pacific Rim comes out, I expect some viral videos will feature footage from a GoPro suction-cupped to the head of one of the monsters.

One of my longstanding usage questions answered

I've been puzzled over the last ten years or so by the rise of the phrase "I am wanting to" in spoken English.

Maybe I just wasn't listening closely when in the 80's and 90's, but I don't recall people saying that. For example, "I am wanting to go to the Bears game."

I try to adhere to proper usage when possible (as I recall from one episode of 30 Rock, Liz asks Jack why he's wearing a tuxedo, and Jack replies, "It's after six, what am I, a farmer?"). But I no longer correct people when they misspeak. For example, if they say "literally" but they don't mean it, or if they say "I could care less" when it's clear that they couldn't. No one likes a usage scold, and where do you draw the line? Should I be berating guys in the men's room who don't wash their hands, or counseling people not to smoke for health reasons? At some point, I trust adults to know better.

But hearing people say "I am wanting to" hits my brain with visceral discordance. It sounds so odd, even grotesque. How did it come into being? Was it once acceptable usage, back from banishment? Language has evolved quite a bit if you look at broad time periods, and so usage we once found perfectly normal, like the passival tense, now sounds like the type of error made by someone for whom English is a second or third language.

Perhaps it was just a way of softening the expression. Sometimes you want something, other times you want it, but to a lesser degree, so you're wanting it. Still sounds wrong, but perhaps that's how it arose.

I tried finding a definitive answer to the question online but couldn't, so I decided to send a tweet to my usage idol, Bryan Garner, author of my usage Bible, Garner's Modern American Usage. I revere this book so much I own three editions of it, and going to grab the link just now I realized there's now a Kindle edition, so I will probably own that version also by the time I've finished writing this post.

I asked Garner:

Can you comment on the usage of the awkward sounding phrase "I am wanting to"? When, if ever, is it preferable to "I want to"?

Garner responded:

Never.

So there you have it.

I'm still curious to hear the story of the rise of this phrase in spoken English (a quick peek at Google n-gram viewer indicates low usage in books over the years). Perhaps someone will do that sleuthing someday.

Regardless, from now on, if you say to me, "Literally, I want to eat a person, I could care less what everyone thinks." I will cringe, but I'll bite my tongue.

But if you say, "Literally, I am wanting to eat a person, I could care less what everyone thinks." We'll have words. If you want to eat a person, stand behind that feeling, don't soften it with such a feeble construction.

James Bond's most advanced gadget: his suit

Vulture interviewed a tailor to see how James Bond can fight in those suits.

As one of those trademark moments of levity that we love in the Bond franchise, I wish they'd had Ben Whishaw's Q explaining some of this sartorial technology to Daniel Craig's James Bond instead of all that discussion of the Walter PPK. Craig's signature piece of gear, his most important and symbolically potent totem, is his tuxedo.

In Casino Royale they had Le Schiffre strapping a naked Bond to a bottomless chair and assaulting his family jewels with a sling, like David trying to fell Goliath, to which Bond replied with cackles (through his tears). In Skyfall, we saw Javier Bardem's sexually ambiguous Silva running his hands slowly up Bond's thighs, to which Bond replied with a quip and a sly grin. So we know this Bond doesn't mind a bit of humor centered around his groin.

So the tailor's explanation, in that interview, of why Bond's pants would have to have such a high and tight crotch seems like a match made in heaven for this Bond incarnation.

Q PULLS UP ON BOND'S TUXEDO TROUSERS HARD. BOND WINCES.

BOND: Easy there, love. Some of us need to leave room there to hold a...substantial firearm.

Q: Oh believe me double O seven, I've heard enough stories about your weapon of choice. But if you plan to do any running and kicking this evening, and you want a slim-fitting trouser, we'll have to raise the London Bridge as high as it will go, if you catch my fancy. And you do want a slim cut, do you not? We wouldn't want you representing Her Majesty in baggy trousers, now would we?

Q TUGS UP AGAIN, HARD. BOND EXHALES AUDIBLY. Q CINCHES THE SIDE ADJUSTERS ON THE TROUSERS, THEN STANDS AND GIVES BOND A GENTLE PAT ON THE BACK.

Q: Now then, ready for action. And if you're planning on any action tonight, I suggest you keep those trousers where they are.

BOND: The only action I'm planning will require just the opposite.

JUDI DENCH'S M, STANDING OFF TO THE SIDE, ROLLS HER EYES.

Barbara Broccoli I am WAITING FOR YOUR CALL.

The 5¢ Coke pricing mystery

One of my favorite podcasts, which Ken turned me on to, is NPR's Planet Money. I enjoy some long-form podcasts, with episodes approaching two hours at times, but ones like Planet Money are more listener friendly for being concise (you can listen to one in a short commute on foot) and crisply produced and edited, more like edited news segments than audio transcripts of talk radio.

One great recent episode was Why Coke Cost a Nickel for 70 Years. The story of why Coke cost a nickel for the first 70 years after it was made is more interesting than you'd suspect. I won't ruin it for you, go take a listen (or you can read the text summary, but it's only 4:34 long, and in this case, listening to the story conveyed verbally is like hearing a good story around the campfire, a tradition some of the best podcasts have helped to sustain in this high speed scanning/parsing web environment; it's the web's storytelling version of the slow food movement).