My time here in Poland has facilitated me moving more to the right politically and economically than ever before. Yet a few films have been on my mind lately that point, in some ways, to the left. I wanted to share a short list.

Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room. The first thing you notice about the film is how thoroughly researched it is. I consider director Alex Gibney to be intellectually sound and politically level headed. The film is two parts investigation, one part meditation. But most of the research was already done by the two Fortune Magazine reporters who wrote the book of the same title. Gibney furthers the conclusions of the book and allows for a different, more human focus to the economic story. The film ultimately creates a microcosm of the evils that prevail in extreme Reagan-esque privatizations. The great thing about this film is that it doesn't speak about privatization, per se, but it does try to learn from the Enron fiasco. To the best of my knowledge, no film has better achieved such clarity, even-handedness, and profundity while simultaneously doling out such massive amounts of information. Profound investigative reporting with a conscience.

Fahrenheit 9/11. I went into the movie expecting to hate it for its melodrama and disregard for truth. I was surprised to find less belligerence than in Bowling for Columbine (perhaps the most illogical, absurd, and yet still self-congratulatory political film I can think of). Most often Bowling for Columbine is described as one-sided while I found it lacking in subject matter — I don't believe the film actually had a point, therefore we can't argue that it was too one-sided. I felt similar sentiments about all of Michael Moore's previous endeavors, both in TV for IFC and his Academy recognized Roger and Me. Imagine my surprise, then, at the skill in the filmmaking in Fahrenheit 9/11. Unlike his previous work, this film was more than a 7th-grade political essay. While we can still argue that some of the political connections he makes are a bit outrageous if not inconclusive, the questions his filmmaking raise does great good for political discussion, I am convinced. I must say that I find the film, despite some of its outrageousness, more politically relevant now than the year it won Palm D'Or at Cannes.

Fog of War. This film, which essentially consists of an interview with Robert McNamara by master documentarian Errol Morris, goes more in depth than the book written by McNamara about the Vietnam War. View this film, if for nothing else, to hear a man who had so much responsibility and so much power in that war say the phrase aloud on camera, "We were wrong." (Am I the only person who desires this more than anything else in American politics? To hear politicians be honest, even to the detriment of their public image?) The film's perspective and maturity is astounding.

Hearts and Minds. Though this film is about Vietnam, one can't help but see application to the current war situation. I highly recommend this film, which was filmed in Vietnam during the war, though it was outrageously one-sided and even skillfully and subtly manipulative. To my eyes, it seems less so now than I imagine it did then. Simply for historical perspective and sheer mass of fact-based information (with occasional anecdote, of course). I highly recommend the Criterion Collection disc of this movie and remember to view it with and without the commentary. The commentary is less for film buffs and more for politically-minded people.

An Inconvenient Truth. Flat out, this is a propaganda piece. The film follows a series of lectures Al Gore gives about global warming. But some messages are simply worth propagating. Now, I grew up in a place where "going green" didn't need to be articulated because it was almost everyone's way of life. So I'm grateful for someone bringing to the forefront something that I have believed to be important from my childhood. If nothing else, the film is worth watching or revisiting since I cite it as an epicenter for the more omnipresent environmental discussion (the unfortunate underbelly of which has recently been manifest on The Millennial Star blog).

An Unreasonable Man. You may love or hate Ralph Nader or you may not even know who he is. No matter what group you may belong to, chances are you will have something to say, and that passionately, after this film. When my wife and I saw this at the Sundance Film Festival, everyone seemed to be engaged. The screening before ours had required security because some members of the audience were either so in favor or so angry that they went up on stage, uninvited, during the discussion to take charge of the microphone. Almost everyone had something to say. This quite even-handed film was made by someone who had worked for Nader for several years, who, on the whole, had a favorable take on Nader but also knew his flaws far better than most. Perhaps the greatest quality the film possesses is that of an intense critique of a bipartisan system. The running time is well over two hours, but I can't remember being on the edge of my seat more consistently during any documentary.

Why We Fight. Though the filmmaking in Andrew Jarecki's second endeavor is not quite as slick and clever as his first and more disturbing feature Capturing the Freidman's, the content of Why We Fight is perhaps more visceral and gives more weight where the filmmaking may fall short. The premise is two-fold: First, a reframing of Frank Capra's vital and historically important propaganda films and second, to reframe our present military condition in light of President Eisenhower's presidency.

The American national sentiment after Word War I was by and large not supportive of further American involvement in "foreign wars." Yet the American "powers that were" felt that we needed to go to war. It was in this light that Frank Capra was asked to explain to the American public why it is that we fight. The films clarified and polarized — even narratized — the current global affairs. Jarecki's feature, as you may guess, is not propaganda, but it seeks to understand 1) the American mentality that causes war as well as 2) the current American popular understanding of political war machinations. To my mind, it fails at both, though there's more success in the former than the latter. (Through this process, however, the question is raised to whether America should be considered an imperialist state.)

The second premise, however, results in success, to question the industrial-military complex President Eisenhower warned about as he was ending his presidency. This film allows us to view our own time through the lens and foresight that President and General Eisenhower had.

——————

At the end of this list, I realize how much discussion there is about war and how, on the whole, the view of war is critical. By way of disclosure, I did recently argue in favor of violence in my LDS reading of Fight Club on my blog, Toward an LDS Cinema.

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Le clip, réalisé par Michael Moore, a été enregistré devant la Wall Street obligeant la bourse à fermer ses portes durant la journée à cause de la foule.

Le groupe ayant une autorisation fédéral pour tourner, ils ont continué à jouer malgré l'opposition de la police (Michael Moore passera d'ailleurs par la case commissariat).

Le titre est sorti en 2000 sur l'album "The Battle of Los Angeles" :

[dailymotion id=x236hb]

Prea multe nu sunt de spus, trebuie sa il vedeti voi ca sa fiti si voi impresionati. Mi-a placut un segment cu cateva informatii, pe care il voi scrie aici.

1953: US il da jos pe Prim-ministrul Mossadeq al Iranului. US il pune pe Shah ca dictator.

1954: US il da jos pe alesul prin vot democratic, Presedintele Arbenz al Guatemalei. 200.000 civili omorati.

1963-1975: Armata americana ucide 4 milioane de civili in Asia de SE.

1973, 11 septembrie: US sprijina asasinarea presedintelui Salvador Allende al Chile, dictatorul Augusto Pinochet instalat la putere. 5000 de civili morti.

1980: US il antreneaza pe Osama bin Laden si inca un grup de teroristi sa omoare ruşi. CIA le dă 3 miliarde de dolari.

1982: US il sprijina cu miliarde de dolari pe Saddam Hussein pentru arme ca sa omoare Iranieni.

1983: Casa alba le da in ajutor in secret Iranienilor arme ca sa omoare Irakieni.

1990: Iraq invadeaza Kuweit cu arme provenite de la americani.

1991: US intra in Irak, Bush il reinstaureaza pe dicatorul Kuweitului.

1998. Clinton bombardeaza o "fabrica de arme" din Sudan. Fabrica se pare ca producea aspirina.

1991 pana in prezent: Aviatia americana bombardeaza Iraqul saptamanal. ONU estimeaza ca 500000 copii iraqieni au murit de la bombardamente.

2000-2001: US da Afganistanului cucerit de talibani 245 milioane de dolari in "ajutor"

11 Septembrie, 2001: Osama bin Laden isi foloseste cunostintele de la CIA ca sa omoare 3000 de oameni.

Alte documentare Michael Moore pe care le recomand: Sicko si Fahrenheit 9/11.

Watching a Guy Maddin film is sort of like sifting through a stranger's record collection. You get a feel for their tastes, recognize their deepest influences and soak an entire history without really knowing them. For Maddin, the silent era of filmmaking serves as a road map through his soul that we read in place of conventional dialogue or narrative. The films of Lang, Murnau, and Griffith, they emanate from every frame, telling his personal story through each vintage iris shot, every oddly-placed intertitle and even from the grainy black and white that appears aged and dated in its newness. His films certainly alienate a large number of audience members — they stand as far as one can get from commercial filmmaking without crossing the threshold into experimental cinema — but in terms of his passion for cinema, his film's exhibit an undeniable charm.

Guy Maddin's latest film, My Winnipeg, takes a slightly different approach than we're used to from this maverick Canadian. Following a pseudo-documentary framework, it still adheres to that same silent era theme prevalent in his past work, but with a more introspective tinge. The film is literally about itself, about the way in which Maddin is attempting to disentangle his past from the checkered history of his city of origin. It resembles Micheal Moore without all the trumped-up drama, or This American Life without the linear narration.

For a film so brilliant in its design it does manage to stumble out of the gate, implementing the same foolhardy cinematic experimentalism that uses abrasive word repetition, incongruous intertitles and jarring superimpositions to get under the audience's skin. But it begins to coalesce into something more substantial and less meandering when Maddin attempts to reenact scenes from his childhood using what he claims is his actual mother and some hired actors to play his siblings. Rather than coming across as vain or self-obsessed, these moments display an odd sense of humor (the father buried under the living room rug, the crazy new tenant of his childhood home that refuses to leave), and their astounding meta-structure add an extra layer of depth to the film.

As one can imagine, the film is terribly anecdotal, but not annoyingly so.  It follows a certain rhythm. Typically he'll divulge a secret occurrence from his past, find some way to tie it in with the history of the city and then explore one of the many oddities that have come out of Winnipeg over the last century. Whether its the governmental corruption, the disenfranchisement of the Winnipeg Jets (yes, the movie spends a great deal of time discussing hockey!) or the death of hundreds of horses who froze solid in a river with their heads still protruding from the ice in twisted agony, each story could be a film unto itself.

As the oddball tales pile up, I suspect so does the audience's incredulous attitude toward them. Some of the stories sound plausible, others — such as the law in Winnipeg that states that no old signage can be destroyed — feel invented. Telling is the fact that the woman he claims to be his real life mother in the film is actually played by actress Ann Savage.

I won't say which stories are true and which are simply tall tales because I feel it's more fun to track them down on your own. In any case, it's not as if Maddin is attempting to pull one over on the audience and manufacture truth for his own designs (much like Micheal Moore does). Many of his stories are quite obviously fabricated, but there's a kernel of truth to even the most absurd stories in My Winnipeg and the underlying theme of the project makes sense when you take the stories as part of an overarching narrative theme: the demolition of a city's personal history.

One aspect of Winnipeg that Maddin's harps on throughout is this notion of the general sleepiness of Winnipeg's citizens. Winnipeg has 10 times the sleepwalking rate of any other city, he says. Is it true? Does it matter? Not really. What's important is the message Maddin seeks to convey.  How true it is that we sleepwalk through the destruction of our own heritage, oblivious to the obliteration of the buildings and landscape that shaped us as youths. It's terribly nostalgic, but for Maddin — and many of us — it's also terribly tragic.

Synopsis and Evaluation

I love documentaries. Although I’m not an avid or regular viewer of documentary shows/films, if there’s an opportunity to view one I always make it a point to watch it. I’m easily engaged by these documentaries because more often that not, they tackle pressing issues that have broad national or worldwide scope.

These documentaries articulate to viewers the different slices or facets of our current society. Commonly, they expose certain malice present in our society --- the harsh and sappy truths that deserve some attention to be able to correct it before it’s too late. There’s nothing more depressing and eye-opening than seeing and hearing it from, they like to say, horses’ mouth --- the people involved and directly affected by the particular issue at hand. It’s like telling you how fortunate you are compared to these poor souls being depicted on television/film.

I’m a selective movie viewer. I don’t just watch every movie they throw out there. I value my money and time to just simply throw them away for a horrible movie although being duped sometimes is inevitable. When I heard Sicko, a documentary film about the health care industry (not system, because it is an industry) directed by Michael Moore, I know this is something I should not miss. Why? This is because it’s relevant to our present times right now with the growing lack of attention given to this particular aspect of our society. It’s also scary that America, the wealthiest, most powerful nation has problems with their health care industry.

Or is it that very wealth and power which strike their health care industry hard?

From this premise, Moore went on to interview those stricken with the catastrophe of being left out or forsaken by the hospitals, insurance companies and health maintenance organizations (HMO) these people need the most. In times of trouble with our health, we go to these institutions to seek help to cure us. But alas, they run away from their obligations to provide health care. It’s not as if they’re asked to do this for free. These people paid premiums for their insurance and health care coverage to receive assistance in times of sickness. These forms of assistance are deemed losses by these institutions. Losses. It’s an accounting term used for events such as obsolescence of inventory, worthlessness of an investment or selling a piece of asset below its book/accounting value. These institutions reduce these poor souls to a mere accounting term. Oh my gulay! What money can’t do, eh?

Moore also drew comparisons to the health care systems of Cuba, France, Great Britain and Canada where these countries supposedly have a system better than the US. In fact, US ranked only 37th among all nations when it comes to providing adequate health care to its citizens.

The Final Word

A documentary that is supposedly exaggerated and full of concocted claims? Ironic. Wrong. But it’s not as ironic or as wrong as the fact that the US, the wealthiest and most powerful nation, is lagging behind a plethora of other nations in terms of health care. They have trillions of dollars to spend to finance their war agendum. Why not use that for health care where the problem really exists and conspicuous instead of alleged claims of destructive weapons and terrorism. One has to wonder if America is really an avenue to reach one’s dreams.

This documentary may be filled with exaggerations or one-sided jabs and comments but it does not mean that a problem doesn’t exist. In fact, this is a documentary that does not need to present the entire truth to convey and accentuate the reeking stench that is the US health care industry. Nor it should be balanced to comply with the unspoken or unwritten rules of making a documentary. A documentary is supposed to communicate something, to expose something, to open the eyes of the general public. Moore’s agenda is irrelevant to assessing the worth of this film. We must admit that there’s something really wrong not just in the health care system but in our whole society (not just in the US) where money is really above everything else.

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Results from the first BCEW House event to be held at the newly christened BCEW Hall in Eagle Rock, Ohio.

Earl Fletcher will be the ring announcer for tonight’s BCEW Hall event.

Earl comes out and welcomes everyone to BCEW Hall. He then says, “ever been driving down the road in your car and pretended that you had a small laser mounted on the front of your car that shot birds out of the air and other animals along the side of the road?” He is met by a baffled silence. “Guess not. Let’s get to the action.”

Match #1- Little Paulie with Big Paulie of the American Bikers vs. “No Frills” Chris Escondido
Another classic match between long time adversaries. Back and forth for several minutes until the end. As usual, Little Paulie and Big Paulie start bickering and arguing about match strategy and the amount of time Little Paulie is taking to win the match. Escondido charges at Little Paulie. Little Paulie this time steps out of the way and Escondido blasts into Big Paulie. Big Paulie flies off the ring edge to the mat below. Little Paulie then rolls up Escondido from behind and gets the win.

Announcements & Shane “I’m So Damn Funny I Just Crack Up At My Own Jokes” Ghackerman
Earl Fletcher reads some announcements. Fletcher makes some oblique reference to Madonna and then follows up with this gem. “If I a-happen to walk by one of those collector’s items Dick Tracy action figures thingys- like Madonna as Breathless Mahoney- and just **happen** to peek under her dress, would that be a bad thing?” The sound of crickets chirping follow. “Right. Well, if you think that’s bad, here’s Shane ‘I’m So Damn Funny I Just Crack Up At My Own Jokes’ Ghackerman.”

Ghackerman starts off with: “You all hear the story about the guy who was attacked by a donkey? Yeah, the sheriff said it was the worse ASS-kicking he’d ever seen.” *rimshot* Groans. More groans.

“Okay,” he continues, “What did the lady say to the guy who kept showing up at her door with a stick of celery? Hey! Stop stalking me!” *rimshot* More groans. A couple titters. But mostly groans.

“Got another one. What do you go through when you give up eating celery? Deceleration.” *rimshot* More groans. A ‘you suck.’

Actually, lots of ‘you sucks.’

“Right. Just say no to snorting Coke. It’s not good for you and the carbonation burns the hell out of the inside of your nose.” *rimshot* “Get it? Coke? The pop? Inside your nose? BHWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-urk…

Thankfully, Fletcher yanks Ghackerman out of the ring before he starts a full fledged riot.

Snott Flemmstein and Annoying Cell Phone Guy enjoy dinner at one of the back tables of the BCEW Hall. Everything goes well until Cell Phone Guy starts to get calls on his cell phone. Flemmstein slowly gets pissed off as Cell Phone Guy spends the next few minutes gabbing away. Finally, Flemmstein has enough and leaps across the table. The cell phone flies out of Cell Phone Guy’s hand. The two roll around on the ground. A referee suddenly shows up and we’ve got ourselves an impromptu match.

Match #2- Snott Flemmstein vs. Annoying Cell Phone Guy
This was doesn’t make into the ring. A couple minutes of action before Flemmstein shoots out the ol’ green ‘snot’ from his prosthetically enhanced nose and coats Cell Phone Guy again. The referee quickly counts 1-2-3 and the match is Flemmsteins.

Earl Fletcher introduces the Black Swamp Pirates who come out and play their new country song American Elitist.

“Hey Green Day,” said the band’s lead singer Junior Jackson, hoisting his middle finger high in the air, “I’ve got your #$#$ing redneck agenda right here!” The band starts to play…

Match #3- The Raving Rednecks Locke and Loade vs. The Dixie Chucks Chuck-artie and Chuck-mily
The match of the night. Lots of false finishes. Locke and Loade went for the Redneck 4-D Death Blast but Chuck-mily countered with a drop kick and Chuck-artie clobbered Locke from behind.. Locke somehow makes it to the rope. At one point Chuck-artie hits 5 German suplexes in a row. Eventually Chuck-mily was placed in the Redneck 4-D Death Blast and taken out of commission. Then both Locke and Loade attack Chuck-artie and end up laying him out. 1-2-3. Winner-Locke and Loade.

BCEW Romey: “All right, I guess you’ve all heard by now that Mike Love of the Beach Boys filed suit against Brian Wilson for among other things, “misappropriating the trademark of the Beach Boys. Save it clones, I know what you’re going to say. “He’s been doing that for the past 10 years.” I get that. I get the fact that many of you consider him to be an attention starved, sue-happy crybaby. I get that. I get the fact that many of you are bent over how Mike turned the Beach Boys induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame into a night that will live in rock infamy. I get that, too.

“But what caught my attention was the phrase “the misappropriation of Mike Love’s songs.” Oh? What the hell is that? Did Brian misappropriate “Sumahama?” “Summer of Love?” Freakin’ “Kokomo?” No? Oh I get it. Lest we all forget that Mike Love is the guy who was inducted into the Songwriter’s Hall of Fame- no wait, that was Brian Wilson. We all know that Mike Love is the one who won a Grammy for his solo album- wait, that was Brian Wilson too. And of course, how could we forget the tribute show to Mike Love a few years ago- oh wait, that was Brian freakin’ Wilson.

Hey Wall Street Journal, you won’t defeat us

“We’re going to do it for World Peace and Love and Harmony. By insulting the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen. Yeah Mike. That was a proud moment for the group. You, at the dais, calling out rock stars all in the name of World Peace, Love, and Harmony. I don’t know Mike. Perhaps the reason that Mick Jagger or Bruce Springsteen or Billy Joel won’t play with you is because they think that you’re the biggest jerk in rock music. Maybe you should, oh I don’t know, SUE them too for not wanting to share the same stage with you. That rant pretty much sums up the bug up Mike’s AAAHHH-SS over his perception that he’s not and never has been given his due. And that’s the real reason Mike Love is so bent, so bitter. The fact is that Brian Wilson gets more attention out of playing a handful of shows a year than he does playing hundreds of shows. Mike is bent because Brian Wilson releases three, count em, THREE solo CD’s over the past two years and he can’t get his own solo CD out. Mike is bitter because Brian Wilson is considered to be one of the most influential and pivotal figures in rock history while he’ll be known for being a cranky old, litigation-happy man who prances around the stage, walks like grandma while singing The Little Old Lady From Pasadena, and tells the same, corny, cheesy jokes at every show. It’s not bad enough that the Lovester tried to rewrite Beach Boys history in that ABC movie, he’s now trying to rewrite the history of Smile- “the misappropriation of Mike Love’s songs??” Give me a freakin’ break!

“Here’s what really pisses Mike off- Brian Wilson has SCOREBOARD over Mike Love and he always will.

“As always, I’ve got your emails here on the subject.

“I feel bad for Mike Love and the respect and stature he craves in the rock world. In fact, I feel so bad that I think we should organize a benefit concert for him. Let’s call it ‘Rock Against Mike Love.’ They’ll be a giant picture of Mike with a red circle and slash through it at the top of the stage. We’ll bring in celebrities who will do testimonials and ask for monetary donations. I figure we can raise enough money to send Mike to his own personal Elba somewhere out in the middle of the ocean out in the middle of nowhere where we won’t have to watch him prance across the stage, pretend he’s a grandma, or listen to some cheesy jokes from his piehole ever again. And maybe, just maybe, there he’ll finally get the respect and stature he deserves.”

At that moment, a guy wearing a hawaiian shirt and a ball cap jumps into the ring. “Who the hell are you?” BCEW Romey asks. “I’m Beach Guy Mike Louvre. I will not stand for any more slander against the heart, the soul, the true creative genius of the Beach Boys- Mike Love.” The crowd starts to boo. “Oh you know it,” Louvre continues, “Mike Love is the Beach Boys! He’s the voice of the Beach Boys and been touring for decades as the front man of America's band. Mike Love kept the band alive while that no talent Brian Wilson stayed in bed. He’s on all of the band's hits and without Mike Love there would be no Beach Boys at all.” More boos. “So all you Brian Wilson apologists can just-” Suddenly, a commotion erupts and Buckland County Police Chief Nick Shavings, a fervently passionate Beach Boy and Brian Wilson fan, jumps into the ring and tasers Beach Guy Mike Louvre. The crowd gives him a standing ovation.

Then BCEW Romey aka Bubba Jackson sets up a table in the middle of the ring and both he and Chief Shavings powerbomb Louvre through the table.

And to add insult to injury, Louvre gets shot in the ass by Ol’ Man Hanson.

Next, BCEW Women’s Champion Candiloosa Ricearoni comes out and wishes everyone a happy Thanksgiving. Then she apologizes for not defending the BCEW Women’s Belt because “there’s no one worthy to wrestle me for it.” Ricearoni then mentions “The Domestic Diva” Martha Stewart who’s “still under house arrest and can’t be here.”

Suddenly, “The Domestic Diva” Martha Stewart, long itching to get her shot at the Women’s champion, rushes down the aisle with Billionaire Don Trump and a deputy sheriff. Stuart holds up a piece of paper with the order that released her from home detention. “Unlock the ankle bracelet!” she commands the deputy, “UNLOCK THE @#@#@$$ ANKLE BRACELET!” The deputy reads it and then unlocks the bracelet. We’ve got a match…

Match #4- BCEW Women’s Champion Candiloosa Ricearoni vs. “The Domestic Diva” Martha Stewart with Billionaire Don Trump
Stuart looked off and very rusty here compared to her usual robust self. Most of this match was a brawl around the building. Ricearoni, irate over the challenge and not expecting a strong effort from Stewart, attacked her with a steel-folding chair and then got ready to pin her. Billionaire Bob Trump came out for the save (and got a big pop). He clubbed Ricearoniaroni with his gold-plated briefcase. Stewart went to cover but then inexplicatively he also turned on Stewart and whacked her in the back with his briefcase. Then he stood over her and said, “YOU’RE FIRED!” and walked out of the ring.

Stewart, furious at Trump’s turn, is the first one up. “You can fire me!” she yells at Trump, “You can cancel my show. But I WILL be the next BCEW Women’s Champion and no one can keep me from my title.”

“That’s what you think,” Ricearoni says from behind. She rolls up Stewart and gets the pinfall to hold on to the title.

"So what? Who cares? Go to Starbucks," you say. Well, I've acquiesced to drinking the bitter swill at Starbucks, but for anyone who has spent 45 minutes of their lives waiting at one of the new Starbucks drive-thrus while some douchebag orders a triple decaf macchiato, there is truly no suitable replacement for the ease and alacrity of the Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru or the sweet, smooth taste of Dunkin' Donuts coffee.

Perhaps some context is in order to fully understand how debilitating this is to me. In my view, Dunkin' Donuts is not just some meaningless, faceless chain of coffee purveyors. I grew up in Massachusetts where Dunkin' Donuts opened its first store in 1950 in Quincy, Massachusetts. It's more than just coffee, it's part of our identity. There are four defining characteristics of a true Massachusetts resident (no, one of them isn't that "you have to be an asshole" -- I know what you're thinking). To be a righteous Massachusettsian, you have to love/appreciate/prefer these four things:

1. The Red Sox

2. Candlepin Bowling

3. Gambling/Lottery

4. Dunkin' Donuts

So you see, not having Dunkin' Donuts in L.A. is more than a mere inconvenience, it's an affront to my self-identity. While Dunkin' Donuts brand coffee is now available at Target, there's truly no substitute for a store-brewed cup of regular Dunkin' Donuts coffee (that's 3 creams and 3 sugars for the uninitiated).

But lest you think that my sole desire for this post is to solipsistically rant about how I am forced to drink Starbucks, I assure you that I have a much grander purpose in mind. What I'd like to discuss is the disturbing trend that I have noticed at Dunkin' Donuts during recent trips back to the East Coast. Since moving to Los Angeles in March of 2006, I have paid a number of visits to Dunkin' Donuts stores in various states, drinking approximately 15 cups of coffee from 7 or 8 different franchises -- a fairly substantial and diverse sample size.

My first trip back to Boston occurred in June, 2006, when I returned for a weekend to attend a good friend's wedding. I eagerly raced to the nearest Dunkin' Donuts location only to receive a bitter cup of coffee more consistent with black tar than the saccharine ambrosia of my fondest recollections. Another coffee from another store produced similar results, but I blindly dismissed my experiences as aberrations. Looking back I should have considered that in the previous 2,000 odd cups of Dunkin' Donuts I had quaffed in my lifetime, I had absolutely no memory of ever having an imperfect cup. But at the time, I saw no pattern.

The exact dates and times of my subsequent Dunkin' Donuts visits elude me, but I can attest that I drank cups from locations in Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Connecticut, New York, and New Jersey. And what was similar was that in every instance the coffee was harsh and acrid, nothing like it used to be. A pattern had fully and undeniably emerged.

My most recent cup of Dunkin' Donuts coffee, which I had just two weeks ago, was so hot in temperature that even after I poured half of it out and replaced it with half & half, I still couldn't drink it ten minutes later. Now anyone who is a regular coffee drinker knows that particular restaurants will try to cover-up the low quality of their coffee by brewing it extra hot.

You may remember the infamous 1994 McDonald's coffee case, Liebeck vs. McDonalds Restaurant, where an elderly woman sued McDonalds after she suffered third degree burns when she spilled McDonalds coffee onto her lap. ABC News called the lawsuit "the posterchild of excessive lawsuits." Now I shouldn't have to tell you that anytime the mainstream press informs you of something with absolute certainly, it's best to reconsider independently; and in this case it's no different. Because anyone who had the displeasure of imbibing the scalding hot, liquified ground rubber that McDonald's passed off as coffee would know that McDonald's was not some poor, little multi-billion dollar conglomerate being conned by a duplicitous 81 year old, former department store clerk. During the case, the woman's attornies discovered that McDonald's required its franchises to serve their coffee at between 180 and 190 degrees fahrenheit, whereas most establishments serve their coffee at approximately 140 degrees fahrenheit. At McDonald's temperature, the coffee would cause a third-degree burn in two to seven seconds. Liebeck was awarded $2.7 million in punitive damages but eventually settled for closer to $600,000. [Note: McDonalds has since replaced their coffee with Green Mountain coffee beans].

So you might be wondering what could possibly have occurred in the past two years that would effect the quality of Dunkin' Donuts coffee so drastically? Well, as it turns out, in December, 2005, three private-equity firms, Bain Capital Partners, the Carlyle Group and Thomas H. Lee Partners acquired Dunkin' Donuts from Pernod Ricard, the French wine and spirits company. The deal was finalized in March, 2006, the very month I moved to California!

If Bain Capital rings a bell it's likely because you may have recently heard that it was co-founded by that phony corporate stooge, Mitt Romney. And if the Carlyle Group sounds familar, chances are that you saw the scathing Michael Moore documentary, Fahrenheit 911, that delves into the shady history of the global private equity firm that employed George H.W. Bush as a senior advisor and listed as one of its investors the Bin Laden family. After 9/11, the Bin Laden family's investments became embarassing to the Carlyle Group so the Bin Ladens were forced to liquidate their assets. Here's a refresher courtesy of Michael Moore.

Finally the picture is crystal clear as to what happened to Dunkin' Donuts: those evil rat bastards at the Carlyle Group and Bain Capital are skimping on the quality of the coffee beans in order to save a lousy buck! It gets worse, according to the New York Daily News, since 2006 Dunkin' Donuts has been suing existing single-unit franchisees in order to replace them with multi-unit franchisees. The article, written by a Dunkin' Donuts franchise owner, details the betrayal:

Dunkin' Donuts has sued other franchise owners 154 times since 2006.

Over the same stretch of time, McDonalds was involved in five lawsuits. And Subway, a company that has four times the number of locations as Dunkin' Donuts, sued its franchises 12 times.

After talking to dozens of franchise owners just like us, we learned that this was more than an unusual litigation binge. This was a corporate strategy.

In order to compete with Starbucks, Dunkin' Donuts has announced a plan to open 15,000 stores by 2016. There's only one problem with that plan. Because Dunkin' Donuts is made up entirely of franchisee-owned stores, it relies on franchisees to open new stores.

Only large, multiunit owners who already own dozens of stores have the means to expand quickly.

Dunkin's answer to this conundrum is to systematically replace single-store owners with multistore owners. And because they can't just force these mom-and-pop shops to sell, they strong-arm them with threats of lawsuits over minor "contract infractions."

The consequences of this are real, personal and painful. The owners of these stores - who overwhelmingly tend to be immigrants - lose their entire life's work.

Maybe America runs on Dunkin', but Dunkin' itself is a corporate giant that runs on the sweat of franchisees large and small.

We small franchisees have just about been sweated out. And with us, perhaps the last vestiges of what mom-and-pop New York used to be.

Dunkin Donuts was like a kindly grandmother that plied you with tasty treats; now they're like an alcoholic, pederast uncle that scars you for life. These corrupt, soulless bastards make me sick. And they're un-American to boot! So this is where I draw the line; this is where I fight. To borrow a line from The Dude: "This will not stand, ya know. This aggression will not stand, man!"

You might imagine that the intended locus of my anger would be those brobdingnagian corporate entities that have hijacked my beloved Dunkin' Donuts. Oh, but you would be mistaken. No, I prefer to put a face on my mortal enemies, so I choose to hold the George Bushes and Osama Bin Laden most responsible for this outrage even if they are no longer associated with the Carlyle Group. After all, if you're going to misplace some anger, you can find worse targets than the Bin Laden and Bush families, right?

I feel like forming a Political Action Committee devoted to seeing George W. Bush impeached or maybe buying a rifle, flying to Pakistan, parachuting into the mountainous tribal region, living off the land for months by eating moss and tree bark, befriending the local tribesman in order to persuade them to identify Osama Bin Laden's hidden lair, and then finally smoking his cowarldy ass. Screw due process and the rule of law, it's time for some Edmund Dantes, Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, old-fashioned, eye-for-an-eye style vengeance!

Corporate America, in its all-encompassing pursuit to milk every last cent out of a credulous public, has finally crossed the line.  Join me, friends, our time has come to poke these avaricious mongrels where it hurts most: in the wallet! I advise an immediate boycott of the Bush family, the Bin Laden family, Dunkin' Donuts coffee, the Carlyle Group, Bain Capital Partners, and Thomas H. Lee Partners. Divest your money! Save your souls!

Until those un-American corporate fiends have withdrawn their rapacious claws from my beloved company and Dunkin' Donuts coffee is fully restored to its resplendent glory, we shall not rest! Our fortitude will not flag! Our anger will not abate! Anarchy will reign! Justice will prevail!

[I'm not playing around here, I'd dead serious. And as it turns out, you won't have to worry about hurting a small business owner with your boycott since it appears that they'll all soon be replaced by "multi-unit" owners anyway.]

As I watched the depiction of various problems that American people have encountered when dealing with health insurance, I couldn't help but cringe at the realization that all of them stemmed from greed for wealth. Since when did the digits that follow a dollar sign take on more significance than compassion for another human being?

I have heard of one alternative to regular heath insurance: Christian Healthcare Ministries. It's a non-profit organization that was created based on the idea that when one person is in need, people of the church can pool their resources to help that person out. It's health insurance minus the multi-millionaire middle-man. Given that I only just graduated from college and have yet to worry about my own health insurance, I have limited knowledge about health insurance altogether. But I do know that there has to be a better way than making health care available to people in proportion to how much money they have and forgetting to consider their equal value as people.

//Mumintrollet

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I recently watched Michael Moore's latest film, Sicko. Say what you want but this movie is eye opening. Health care in America is pretty f'ed up. We throw those who cannot pay for their hospital stay out on the street. People die because they cannot