Has Stern Lost His Touch?: Financial News - Yahoo! Finance

In his Motely Fool commentary about Howard Stern's Sirius programming (Has Stern Lost His Touch?), Rick Munarriz observes:

The problem is that pulling back the curtain -- and offering 24/7 newsy dissections -- does the flagship show no favors.

Stern is a guilty pleasure for me, and as a Sirius subscriber I've had more than a few good laughs on the way to work in the morning since his Sirius debut in January. (I will admit that on at least two recent occasions I was so completely grossed out that I had to switch channels. I will not describe the content.)

But what Stern needs to learn in a hurry is that his fans want to hear his show, not a lot of shows about his show. The Howard 100 news is -- no surprise -- a complete waste of time, as are the other spin-offs, including the wrap-up show mentioned in the quote above.

Stern has mentioned a few ideas for other programs that have some promise: a crack-whore satire of The View for one, and another he mentioned a couple of weeks ago that would bring Iraq War vets on for an uncensored discussion of their experiences (as close to a serious news program as Stern is likely to get).

But for now the filler programming on the two Stern Sirius channels, including the thoroughly repugnant Bubba the Love Sponge, is not going to help me cash in on my Sirius stock.

In Space, No One Can Hear You Snore

We’ve been conditioned by books, movies, and television to have certain expectations regarding alien beings. Whether they fall into the cute and friendly category, like ET, or the bizarre and menacing catergory, like the critters from the ALIEN series or those from WAR OF THE WORLDS (the Martians, not Tom Cruise), we have it in our heads that visitors from beyond Earth will be, at minimum, interesting.

But what will you do when your close encounter finally happens and you discover that your guests are neither cuddly, benevolent star-voyagers, nor well-armed space calamari intent on turning major cities into dirty ashtrays? What if they are completely, unendurably boring?

There you are, sitting on your patio, when suddenly something large drops out of the sky onto the lawn. But instead of a dazzlingly illuminated UFO, it turns out to look more like a poorly maintained recreational vehicle, with a couple of battered satellite dishes, and an Area 51 parking pass.

Then a hatch creaks open, and just as you position your fingers in that live-long-and-prosper Vulcan greeting, one of those tiny, gray-green guys with a big head and no mouth pops out and says to you through telepathy, "We heard there was a real good outlet mall around here." And instead of fastening himself to your face and turning you into a breeding pod, or letting you goof around with his light saber, he flops down on your couch spends the next six hours watching QVC.

Finally, before he can say, "ET phone Home Shopping Club," you make your move. "Well, tomorrow’s a long day," you say, "Thanks for coming by." And you shove him out the door.

How are we to avoid any such encounters with Dearth Vacuous? Simple. What do you normally do when you want to dodge any contact with the tedious beings in your life?

You screen your calls.

We must immediately advise the people at SETI, the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence project, to wire all those antenna arrays up to a voice mail system so they can screen any interplanetary messages they might receive. That way we can get some idea of what we are dealing with before we invite anybody to beam down for coffee and donuts.

All it takes is a polite message: "We’re sorry, we can't respond your long string of binary code right now. Please leave a brief description of your culture and intentions at the beep and we'll get back to you just as soon as we can."

Then all we have to do is listen to the messages. If we find out that the hyper-intelligent crew of a sparkling star cruiser wants to teach us how to end poverty, disease, and war, and show us a simple way to fill out IRS forms, we can tell them, "C’mon down! We’re buying!"

If, on the other hand, the translated data turns out to be a request for Kenny G tickets and a DVD collection of the first season of "Joannie Loves Chachi," we know that we need to issue a global alert that for the next few days everyone should turn out the lights and pretend not to be home.

Of course, aliens have probably been watching us for some time, scanning our TV broadcasts and so on. We may have to face up to the idea that once they analyzed their data, they sent an urgent message back to their home planet to activate the voice mail and draw the curtains.

Could it be that Earth is the Planet of the Dweebs?

Naahh...

Lessig: Free Culture

Many thanks to Charles Stack (whom I would describe as the smartest man I know even if he wasn't my boss) for recommending this wonderful Flash version of a lecture on free culture by Creative Commons chairman Lawrence Lessig.

Howard Stern in the Land of No Bleep

Where would Howard Stern be without controversy? The unrepentant bad boy of radio built his career on thumbing his nose at taste, tact, various radio station bosses and the FCC. Having anointed himself of late as a poster child for free speech, he has leveraged his reputation and following to publicize his unquestionably bold move to satellite radio. But when he debuts on Sirius in January he enters new territory, where the f-bomb drops freely -- and as frequently as ordinance on an artillery range. How will Stern and crew fare in a medium where the bleep is an endangered species and the particular brand of controversy that has propelled his career is hard to come by?

Will an unbridled Stern simply amp up the frat-boy antics, or will something else emerge?

Stern is at his best when he asks squirm-inducing questions of his guests -- lampooning pompous celebrities; allowing starlets, strippers and rock stars to demonstrate their intellectual prowess; and providing a platform for racists, fascists and their ilk to bury themselves in uproarious ugliness.

But the occasional moments of genuine hilarity are too often separated by yet another segment of seventh-grade-level obsession with genitalia and/or the digestive process. Stern talking a woman out of her blouse is just not as funny as Stern asking Tori Spelling to name the capitol of New York State (her answer: New Jersey).

So what happens to Stern when there is no need for a 7-second delay, and no threat of whopper FCC fines? Is there any real mystery about what gets bleeped? And if not, is the ability to hear anyone on the Stern show utter even the filthiest expletive enough to keep a satellite audience entertained, especially when listeners can hear all the nasty language they want on any of dozens of other Sirius channels? In the uncensored world of satellite radio, dirty talk is not a distinguishing feature.

Stern's move to Sirius is a milestone in the continuing tectonic shift in media consumption. But the self-described king of all media is likely to find that he will need more than the Seven Dirty Words to keep his crown from slipping.


(Also available on Blogcritics.com)

Folk School: Carrying on the Tradition at the Kent State Folk Festival

In a tiny classroom in the Kent State Student Center, an impromptu four-piece combo fronted by two virtuoso steel guitar players rolls through a series of classic western swing and country tunes while the rapt, standing-room-only crowd of perhaps three dozen whoops in appreciation. In between tunes, the steel players answer questions from the crowd about their instruments and technique.

During the free workshops at the 39th annual Kent State Folk Festival, Nov. 19, 12 p.m. - 5 p.m., variations on that scene will play out in classrooms in the Student Center and in the adjacent Kiva auditorium, as some the region's best performers demonstrate and discuss instrumental technique (mandolin, fiddle, guitar, banjo, accordion), musical styles (bluegrass, blues, swing, Celtic, Balkan), songwriting, storytelling, and clog and contra dancing.

Elsewhere in the Student Center -- in designated jam rooms, lobby corners, and sometimes even outside -- amateur and professional players of all ages gather in floating sessions that will last the entire afternoon, playing everything from ancient jazz and pop tunes to blues and bluegrass, and the occasional classical piece.

While the dominant feature of the festival is the series of concerts by an eclectic list of national and regional artists, the workshops, held on the final day of the festival, represent the accessibility and personal interaction that define the folk music tradition.

"People want to know what's going on," said Josh Davis, singer and guitarist with Steppin' In It, one of the national recording acts that participated in the 2004 festival workshops, and a prime example of the new generation of folk performers.

"That's the cool thing about this music. People have a lot of hands-on interest, whereas with a lot of other kinds of music, people may have hands-on interest but it's not made very accessible," Davis said. "I've met most of my heroes in the folk music world, but there's no way I'm going to meet anybody from the pop music world."

It was at a KSU folk festival workshop that Roland Kausen, a veteran featured mandolin and bluegrass workshop performer, met and played with one of his heroes: bluegrass legend Jethro Burns.

"He was just such an easy-going guy, always cracking jokes, and he was really supportive of all the musicians around him. There was not a lot of ego there. It was a joy, and it was actually inspiring," Kausen said.

While the folk fans and amateur players are drawn to the workshops for the opportunity to listen to and learn from the some of the region's most skilled players, the featured workshop performers are attracted by the back-porch, community atmosphere.

"We all know each other and we've been doing this for twenty or thirty years," Kausen said. "It's an opportunity to get back together and visit and play."

That opportunity is rare among the area's working musicians.

"We don't get a chance to hear each other play because we're working," said Seth Rosen, a member of Cleveland-based roots band The Suspenders and another veteran swing and mandolin workshop performer. "This kind of thing during the day is an opportunity to hang out."

The Kent Folk Festival workshops are "one of the friendliest events you're going to find," according to Al Moss, pedal steel guitar player with Hillbilly Idol and a featured performer in the steel guitar workshop at the 2004 festival.

"As many times as I've been a part of it, in workshops or just participating in the audience, man, it's just like old home week," Moss said.

But for Moss and other featured workshop performers, the workshops also represent an opportunity to evangelize about the music.

Moss described the steel guitar workshop at the 2004 festival as an opportunity to be a "missionary of the pedal steel" to those who are unfamiliar with the instrument. "Lot's of folks, especially when you get north of the Mason-Dixon line, look at what I play and call it a keyboard. Or they hear it and say, 'Oh, yeah, I recognize that sound, but I didn't know that's what it looked like.'"

"What I hope is that they walk away with a better understanding," Moss said, "and then they will get turned on and want to play one."

If the number of guitar, fiddle, mandolin and other instruments cases being toted by those attending the workshops is any indication, people of all ages are getting turned on, and, thanks to events like these workshops, the folk music tradition shows no signs of running out of steam.

The Kent State Folk Festival workshops are free and open to the public. For more information and a complete schedule visit: kentstatefolkfestival.org

(Also available on Blogcritics.org.)