Game 2

A spirited performance by the Magic, but they still come out on the losing end. They outperformed the Lakers for most of the game. Lewis and Turkoglu did most of the damage. Not the best W for the Lakers, but in the Finals, we'll take what we can get.
5 to Love and Loathe for Game 2.

Love:

1. Odom's activity. He was aggressive and made good things happen. Player of the game, in my opinion.

2. Pau was clutch. Can't believe I just wrote that.

3. Fisher. Struggling all playoffs, but came up with timely plays all game long.

4. Rashard Lewis. As a Laker fan, you hate it. As a basketball fan, you have to appreciate the shooting touch. Hit a clutch three late. Was on fire in the 2nd quarter. With his size, right now, I'd take him over Ray Allen. 34-11-7: LeBron-like numbers. I lived in Seattle for his first few years as a Sonic, and honestly, it's hard to believe looking back, but a lot of people around town thought Desmond Mason had a brighter future. Lewis was too laid back. But he's come into his own in a big way. Nice to see.

5. Van Gundy's coaching. Not bad at all. Drew up some good plays. He was a missed Courtney Lee layup away from stealing game 2 and being called a genius by talk radio hosts across the nation.

Loathe:

1. The first half. Woeful shooting, tentative play on both sides. Lewis was the only player on the floor playing well.

2. The hype surrounding Kobe all series. His play has been subpar. The points are there. But in Game 1, he wasn't very efficient, less than 1 on the Collins efficiency scale (shots taken divided by shots made; 1.5 is efficient). Tonight, he had multiple errors on offense, bad passes, miscues, translating into seven turnovers. Maybe one of these games his intensity will translate into an efficient performance, a la Game 6 against Denver.

3. Bynum. Right now, about on par with Greg Oden. But hey, he's got six fouls. And can make it difficult on Howard when he's not sitting on the bench. The announcers and the Staples Center treat any made bucket by Andrew like it's his coming out party, but we haven't seen much there except for a few weeks leading up to his injuries.

4. Mid range shooting all around. Ariza. Kobe. Turkoglu. Heck, even Lewis had a few bricks on the pull up.

5. The KABC-7 Los Angeles post game show. Rob Fukuzaki? A rudimentary summary of the game with zero insight or analysis and a cheesy smile? Is this the best we can do? In the second biggest market in the country and the entertainment capitol of the world? Hm.

Honorable mention: The refs. I know it's cliche, but the refs let a lot of plays get physical, then called ticky tacks. Mostly, this went against the Magic, which is to be expected, but let's get it together here.

Apologies to JJ Redick. Thought he played well given his limited minutes in the playoffs so far.

Prediction for Game 3. Magic come out on fire. Howard finally gets going. Kobe also gets locked in. Some of the other Lakers struggle. Magic by eight.

The Finals - 5 best; 5 worst

First week of June has me nervous if the Lakers are playing. Don't feel confident unless they're up by thirty. Plenty to love and loathe about Game 1, a Laker blowout.
First, the positive vibes
Love:

1. The Laker D and overall intensity. They seem to have a sense of the moment and have kicked it up a notch. They haven't shown this gear all season, except for Games 5 and 6 of the Denver series.

2. The Matchups. The Magic looked like giants against the Cavs, getting whatever they wanted on offense. Drive and kick, open three, swish. Here, the Lakers can afford to close out on the shooters, trusting they have two big men behind them who alter shots. The Cavs didn't have that. The Magic were out of sync all game. Ariza made it tough for Turkoglu. Odom made it tough for Lewis. At least in Game 1.

3. The Magic's Finals jitters. (See any play from Game 1 involving Mickael Pietrus)

4. A JJ Redick sighting. In garbage time, Redick steps into a three and knocks it down. Jeff Van Gundy coos over Redick's ability to stay ready. Camera zooms in on Redick. "F- me." he says. Loved that. Maybe he's just realized that will be the biggest shot of his NBA career. Down 25 in Game 1 of the Finals. Oddly, he did slow Kobe down, prompting Van Gundy to drop this deadpan line: "Obviously, JJ Redick is the Kobe Stopper!"

5. Kobe's tenacity. The media have been talking about his demeanor all week. Opens up the series with a 40 point statement game.

Loathe:

1. Kobe's statement. As much as you love his ability on offense, and how demoralized the Magic looked, the Laker teammates got a different statement: Believe the media hype. This is all about Kobe. This game showed Kobe at his best and at his worst. Yes, he hit tough shot after tough shot, but he also hogged the ball once the game was well in hand, missing four straight during one stretch, when he could have been setting up teammates, getting them in rhythm for the rest of the series. Yes, he had multiple assists, but in spite of the W, the Lakers' offense was especially stagnant during this game when Kobe was on the floor.

2. Don't know if this was the same in other markets, but how many commercials for Canada do we actually need? 7? 8? We get it. It's cold there.

3. I miss the TNT post game show. Somehow Rob Fukusaki (Why did he keep calling Hedo Turkoglu "Hay-Doo?" Does he watch basketball?) and Michael Cooper don't quite make you forget Ernie, The Jet, and Sir Charles.

4. The final shot of the game. Game's in hand. Laker ball. Vujacic on the wing. Nine seconds left. What do you do? If you're a professional, just dribble out the clock. Hand the ball to the ref. Hit the showers. But no, Vujacic shimmies, passes to who, Powell(?) for three. Knocks it down. Insult to injury. Bad karma play. That's all I'm saying.

5. In game coach interviews. Just stop.

Game 2 on Sunday. You have to believe the Magic will develop some kind of game plan to counter. They'll knock down some threes and get their confidence back. No more game 1 jitters. A healthy Nelson would be giving the Lakers fits, byt the way, like Aaron Brooks fits. Also, the Lakers did have foul trouble in this game handling Howard, which could be a bigger factor as the series progresses and the Magic find their sea legs. At this point, however, Howard isn't eclipsing Wade and LeBron as the NBA marketing darling. See you Sunday.

ESPN.com Awards

Bill Simmons (most entertaining and prolific): So, wait, you're from Boston?
John Hollinger (nerdiest): So, wait, margin of victory is a better predictor of future success?
Scoop Jackson (most ebonic): So, wait, you're black?
Jemele Hill (most obvious): So, wait, sometimes women like sports, too?
Colin Cowherd (earliest): Wait, didn't you just say that ten times?
J.A. Adande (best smile): Wait, the Lakers did what now?
Chris Broussard (most informative): Wait, did you just give me valuable information without promoting yourself? Are you sure you cover sports? Wait. Wait.
Dan Shanoff (dorkiest): Wait, did you get paid for that?
Jim Caple (worst picture): Wait, why are you writing about that?
Dave Dameshek (most annoying voice): Wait, are you Adam Corrola?
Ric Bucher (best hair): Wait, you were sitting courtside?

Cold Case Closed

Thank heaven. This really was one of the worst shows that pretended to be good. The flashback scenes were atrocious. Every time I happened by it, it felt like a syndicated show from the nineties. What show that wants to succeed runs on Sunday afternoons? And if it does run on Sunday afternoons, don't throw in a minute and a half of character development along with 28 minutes of overconfident detectives badgering suspects. The only tip off the show isn't 10 years old is the music. Not the pacing, not the writing, not the subject matter, not the characterization. I bumped into an editor from the show at a friend's xmas shindig in Pasadena and he said the show would never be syndicated. The music costs too much. Can't think of any redeeming qualities about this show. Just a gigantic waste of time and money. Probably doesn't help that the female lead looks like a psycho I once dated. Can I ask the network for an hour of my life back for the two times my wife turned the tv to this show?

Definitely not together through life.

Stephy reviewed a Dylan album. Yes, yes she did. My internet friend (does that sound creepy?) Stephy, of the stupendous "Stuff Christian Culture Likes" blog fame, recently posted a comment that went something like this: "I like the new Bob Dylan album better when I pretend it's Tom Waits." Now, first of all, that's about the coolest thing I've heard a female say in a while, scoring a double whammy for simultaneous Dylan and Waits references. However, I have to disagree. I like my Waits sparingly, in measured doses, skipping a few tracks. I am, shall we say, selective. Dylan, though, his albums, I like large ladles full. I must have had Time Out of Mind in solid rotation for 16 months. This album, apparently a "surprise," is surprisingly forgettable. The cover art, the CD label, the songs. It all feels rushed. I'll definitely give it another listen, but usually purchasing a Dylan album is an event in the calendar, something to mark time by. This one barely registered. I have to force myself to listen to it. And that may be the worst thing I've ever felt about a Dylan album.

Star Trek...beats Star Wars?

There should be a good bit about this already in the blogosphere, but I want to go ahead and throw in my two cents. Watched the new Star Trek a few hours ago. It plays like a slightly more enjoyable Transformers, throwing in some of the substance of the original for good measure. Definitely the best of the Star Trek films. Didn't take itself or the mythos too seriously, light on its feet. By the time we get to Simon Pegg as Scottie we know this is mostly a wink and a smile, with echoes of (dare I say it) Starship Troopers, but more fun.
There is a small debate in geek circles as to whether this new film means Star Trek edges out Star Wars for Sci Fi supremacy after the abysmal Star Wars Prequels. I haven't been as into the genre lately as much as when I was a child, but back then I pitched my tent waaaay more on the Star Wars side. Given its mythological bent, Star Wars was a sprawling epic with magic, romance, heroes, transcendence, redemption. It captured the imagination. Meanwhile the USS Enterprise chugged along like an elaborate science class. Indeed, clearly the underlying epistemology of Star Trek is Enlightenment based scientific exploration, rather than Tao and destiny and all that. It's left brain vs. right brain. Fast forward 25 years (just like in the movie!) Star Wars and Jaws pretty much ushered in the era of the modern blockbuster. Since the late 70's movies have steadily become more corporatized, with tie in's galore. By the time the SW Prequels rolled around, Star Wars had become far more than a cottage industry, with action figures, comic books, books, video games and all manner of interstellar bric-a-brac. Not only Star Wars, but Lucas had become his own brand, tied to THX sound, and an industry leader in special effects, Industrial Light and Magic. The Star Wars prequels disappointed on many levels, because, in more ways than one, it was all about the numbers. It was as if the production companies, the marketing machine, the military-industrial complex of planet Lucas needed more grist for the mill. The problem was, Lucas would not relinquish "creative control." The result was three unwatchable mish mashed movies full of extremely crisp sound, images shot with a brand new crystal clear digital camera, in which all the Storm Troopers suddenly had Australian accents (oops, better go back and change the originals) and there were multiple annoying "convenient parallels" (read: lazy writing). Perhaps most annoyingly, we had shifted from a spiritual context, in which you must "feel the force flowing through you" (methinks Lawrence Kasdan's line, for some reason) to a scientific one. Instead of mystical mythology, you had to get your midi chlorian count read, like a diabetic taking blood sugar levels. The soul of the film had been removed, reduced to the measurable, observable. A limitless galaxy full of mystery reduced to a Cartesian grid. You half expected Spock to show up in the background somewhere, sneering. What mattered was not mystery, not heart, but numbers, box office numbers, video game tie in sales, DVD units. Like the hero turned villain of the films, the story had become more machine than human - self-perpetuating, gobbling all the dollars it could. In an ironic twist, the villains of the film became a metaphor for the franchise itself.
If that's what became of Star Wars, what then can we say of Star Trek? Magic and mystery had always captured my imagination more than a group of acquaintances floating through space in a giant Bunsen Burner. If the conflict of Star Wars is overcoming the evil within, the conflict in Star Trek seemed to be staying true to a scientific ideal and, on occasion, allowing your humanity to shine through, in spite of the superiority of logical mind. In the movies, heroism and self sacrifice always played a larger role than in any of the TV shows (although, admittedly, my knowledge there is limited). The stories always seemed too thinly allegorical, too dry. To remedy this, J.J. Abrams decided to throw in "a little rock and roll" into Star Trek, and there he succeeds.I wonder if some of Star Trek's charm over the years has been precisely its dryness, its commitment to utopian idealism, to a scientific worldview, to its dorkiness. A purist might be torn. On the one hand, a beloved franchise is injected with freshness, but at the cost of its very uniqueness as a niche market. Its very dryness perhaps inspired its cult following. Don't get me wrong, the film was enjoyable, but clearly created to be palatable for mass consumption. It has all the bells and whistles, is extremely fast paced, features a young, sexy cast to draw in the teen crowd, and the teen dollar. And as marketers know, grab the teen dollar and the rest will come. I wonder if alongside the corporatized branding that proved to be Star Wars' downfall, we haven't seen another trend leading to the homogenization of the American blockbuster: the cult of cool. But for a few recognizable features, this could be Transformers III, it could be GI Joe 2: Return of Cobra (both franchises that showed up in the previews). Sleek, action packed, witty, testosterone-fueled, and an attractive male lead with a rebellious streak. I'm not sure that's a bad thing. I certainly shelled out my $9 to go see it. I might even do it again. I just wonder what's being lost in the process.

All roads lead to Shamanic Reiki

Well, not all of them, obviously, but some do...
Indulge me for a second. Recently I was reading a great book on American global empire by sometime whistle-blower John Perkins. Eye opening, illuminating, insightful, outrageous, and yet, common sense, are a few of the reactions I had to his Confessions of an Economic Hit Man and the follow up Secret History of American Empire. (I first heard about Perkins browsing my Netflix recommendations) I was thinking about giving copies to family members as gifts, to, you know, be more conscious, etc. etc. However, in digging a little bit, Perkins, an erudite, soft spoken man, who also claims to be a shamanic shape shifter and to have transformed into blue flame. Now, for me, this is not necessarily a stumbling block. After all, there is more on heaven and earth, good Horatio...and all that. But I thought it might serve to discredit his account in the eyes of slightly more conservative family members. I checked out his web site, enthused and inspired by his book on global economic policy and American corporations (which, he argues, should not be demonised and fought tooth and nail, but rather petitioned, transformed both inside and outside, to reverse their destructive patterns...essentially, shape-shifted) and found books on spirituality and shapeshifting, with one title salaciously entitled "Shamanic Reiki." Which is about as New Age-y a title as I can think of. Now, raised to discard anything giving off even the faintest whiff of New Age as detrimental to my spiritual journey, part of me wants to dismiss shamanism and shape shifting as hokum, hophead talk. Then I am aware of the extent I have been conditioned to consider anything spiritual that is not explicitly Christian as deeply dangerous. Let's call this a Puritan-cum-Pentecostal background. Another part of me, call it intuitive mind, thinks there just might be something there. I'm not versed in Reiki or shamanism, but if they bring about a deep and sorely needed shift in consciousness, then I'm all for it. Ever the dormant mystic, I also recently re-read Annie Dillard's Holy the Firm, positing some kind of elemental sacred energy that Medieval mystics used to call, you guessed it, "Holy the Firm." Shortly thereafter, I finished Breaking the Alabastar Jar by Li-Young Lee, in which he speaks of his poetry as coming from "listening to 'the hum' at the heart of existence," that at bottom, the universe is a kind of vibration, a wave energy (is this string theory?) and we have to deepen our consciousness to transform our way of knowing, to attend to the hum, to listen to it, to be shaped by it. This different way of knowing, of deepened consciousness is also foremost in the writing of Linda Hogan, whose beautiful book Dwellings I picked up again after many years of neglect. All these readings either mention or point toward a shift in consciousness. I have had no Road to Damascus experience, no satori to radically and permanently shift my consciousness, and so, for now, I cling to the deepened consciousness I experience when reading illuminating texts inviting me to such awareness. This is even a deeper transformation than I ever experienced doing Christian "devotionals" or "spending time in Scripture" from which I primarily gain a sense of reinforced moral obligation to worship, to keep my side of hesed, that is, putting a strong relationship with God first, living a morally upright life. But it is so conjoined in my life experience with the ignorance and commonplace mind and ways of knowing of middle class America and its value systems, which do not cultivate compassion and essentially hurtle the world toward extinction, that I do not gain much of a shift in perspective from it. It is, in some sense, the given, the known, not the transformative. I daresay I got more out of reading Linda Hogan's Dwellings than spending mornings last months reading the books of Jeremiah and Ezekiel. But the shift in awareness seems somehow essential, connecting to the deep fibers of life and intensity, a deep memory. I reconnect to this awareness that somehow first blossomed in college, but has become a faint echo. How do you stay rooted in a way of knowing you hold to be of the highest importance if its voices are constantly being drowned out. I am a part of no community that reinforces and holds accountable for this vision, and I don't particularly know how to find one. From home to work, to extended friends and family, there is no one to discuss these shifts with, no mentor to guide the process, just the occasional reading, and, inevitably, the loss of vision when thedaily grind distracts. I happen to have extra time on my handsright now, resting at home from a torn achilles. Most of the time, however, I do not have the luxury of spending six to eight hours a day reading myself into deep consciousness. How to maintain it? Cultivate it? Not lose it? Shamanic Reiki, anyone?