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The Michigan
Daily loves
its readers
a LATTE
By Craig Stowe
©2018 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
11/20/18
Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis
11/20/18
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
Release Date: Tuesday, November 20, 2018
ACROSS
1 Worked off
nervous energy,
say
6 Grounded fast jet
9 Like imitators
14 Maine town on
the Penobscot
15 Letter after sigma
16 Food from
heaven
17 Traditional Easter
dinner
19 “... better __
worse”: wedding
vow words
20 Wedding rental
21 “Not bad, not
great”
22 Cuts anew
23 “In your dreams!”
25 Steinway seat,
perhaps
27 Biological
mapping
subjects
29 By the seashore
30 Garden tool
31 Scientist Wernher
__ Braun
32 Undercover
agent
33 Ohio’s has wheat
and arrows
38 Transmission
type: Abbr.
41 Line on many a
receipt
42 Hold (onto)
46 Take advance
orders for
49 Colder than cold
51 Boating safety
feature
53 Former couples
54 Curly-horned
goats
55 Mama’s mama
57 Vietnam New
Year
58 Renaissance fair
garment
59 Glancing blow
on the road,
and a hint to the
puzzle’s circles
61 Still soft, as
concrete
62 Sci-fi vehicle
63 Golf targets
64 Jury members
65 Wooden pin
66 Wide-mouthed
pitchers
DOWN
1 Canoe carrying
2 Turned on
3 Cajolery
4 Running trio?
5 Colon
components
6 Equilibrium
7 Polynesian island
nation
8 “Rub-a-dub-dub”
vessel
9 Microscopic
organism
10 Analyzes
grammatically
11 Babies
12 Mt. Hood hood?
13 How scolding
words may be
spoken
18 Leisurely gait
22 ABC exec
Arledge
24 Enemies
26 Cpls. and sgts.
28 Muscular 2017
“Dancing With
the Stars”
competitor
31 Distress
34 Book of maps
35 Gymnast’s
powder
36 Vatican vestment
37 Lounge (around)
38 Call it quits
39 Chicago
newspaper
40 The “D” of
“NORAD”
43 Silk or cashmere
44 Climbing vine
45 Snack cake
maker with the
Nasdaq symbol
TWNK
47 More appealing
48 Spits out, as a
DVD
49 Old salt
50 __ Reader:
eclectic digest
52 Chef’s cutter
56 Tennis great
Arthur
59 “How’s it
hangin’?”
60 __ factor:
impressive quality
They were “there” in high
school, but only in theory.
While you wanted one — so you
could, you know, say you had
one — your 16-year-old body
operated with the impenetrable
inner mechanisms of a stallion
and you went for a run the next
day and then sat in a classroom
from 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.
the next day, because, again,
stallion body.
They’re here now. Hangovers
are death that comes with
an intangible cloudiness, a
tidal wave of nothingness and
everythingness that converges
into silenced internal chaos,
plucking at the functioning
parts of you that remain and
making sure any shard of
productivity turns into mush
(until the mush mushes slowly
toward the next episode of
“The Haunting of Hill House”).
Hall of Fame Pittsburgh
Pirate Willie Stargell once said
that getting a hit off of Hall
of Fame Los Angeles Dodger
Sandy Koufax was “like trying
to eat soup with a fork.”
Nursing a hangover when
you’re
not
a
super
young
person feels like eating soup
with a fork, except the soup
is definitely of a Matzah Ball
variety, injecting its rocket-
high salt content into the
frayed and dehydrated shell of
human that’s somehow still in
there somewhere.
Really, I think I’ve come to
accept hangovers for what they
are: warning signs that arrive
and linger with a familiar
banality of doom. They hit
everyone
differently;
rather
than a more enjoyable straw-
drawing
or
Tap
Roulette.
Leaving this up to chance
doesn’t translate to nervous
excitement as much as the
harsh
reality
that
strikes
between sips: Someone will
be holed up for many hours
tomorrow, someone else will
see weird dots out of the corner
of their eye for some reason and
omelettes that might not, um,
settle.
Is that just me? Maybe that’s
me. All three things definitely
happened, all at the same time,
to me, this morning.
We then search for the cure,
or things to proactively do
before drinking. I don’t know
if these solutions exist. I’m
beginning to doubt they do.
Pedialyte
first
comes
to
mind. The friend who initially
recommended this allegedly
magic mix became a drinking
buddy demigod with its early
success. The company behind
the stuff — which was intended
to be hydration fluid for sick
children — soon recognized its
exploding market and adjusted
accordingly,
leading
to
Costco-sized Pedialyte boxes
appearing in college residences
across the country. But the
body ultimately adapted to
kiddie
potion.
Your
friend
became less cool, and your
hangovers became way less
manageable.
A Google search for hangover
cures reveals the following tips:
Limit your alcohol intake (OK),
avoid drinks with congeners
(don’t know what “congeners”
means), eat a good breakfast
(doesn’t
work),
get
plenty
of
sleep
(unrealistic),
stay
hydrated (I do!), have a drink
the next morning (seems like
bad advice but it gives me an
excuse to reference my favorite
scene in “The Shining”) or take
supplements like red ginseng or
prickly pear (Oh! Well I guess
I need to try that one.). These
“fixes” are all disqualified,
however, because I declare that
none of them work, and maybe
I want to keep wallowing here
anyway.
Yes,
that’s
it.
We
can
keep wallowing. Our worst
nightmare
is
confirmed
—
hangovers
know
no
defeat
— but just as Willie Stargell
remained
steadfast
in
his
attempt to eat soup with a fork,
we should also stay the course,
because there’s a day after this
one that won’t feel like booty,
and I consider that a silver
lining.
I’m
not
thankful
for
hangovers this year, but I am
thankful for how they make
me feel, because I’ve learned to
embrace the wallow. It seems to
be the (most) correct antidote
for a permeating poison that
can only be described with
“ugh,” “yeesh” or an otherwise
unintelligible mumble. When
the bother does in fact arrive,
I won’t have dispensed any
applicable health or wellness
advice to apply, but that might
be OK, because the hangover
probably
incapacitates
you
from reading words in the first
place. Godspeed, mush people.
For your consideration:
Hangovers
DAILY HEALTH & WELLNESS COLUMN
JOEY
SCHUMAN
Chuck Lorre is not the type
of guy you would expect to go
off method. Deemed the “King
of Sitcoms,” Lorre has risen
to
popularity
under
widely
popular,
three-camera
laugh
track
productions
including
“Two and a Half Men,” “The Big
Bang Theory” and “Mom.” His
technique has worked so well, it’s
a wonder why he would ever stray
from the course. Yet in Lorre’s
new 30-minute Netflix sitcom,
“The Kominsky Method,” he does
just that.
“The
Kominsky
Method”
follows the hypermasculine yet
endearing friendship of washed-
up acting coach Sandy Kominsky
(Michael Douglas, “Ant Man and
the Wasp”) and his blasé agent
Norman (Alan Arkin, “Going in
Style”). Shot in single-camera
fashion with a lack of blinding
lighting and laugh tracks, the
show immediately distinguishes
itself from Lorre’s usual MO.
In one of the first interactions
between Sandy and Norman,
Sandy asks his friend and agent
about landing an acting job on a
sitcom.
“Those little pischers on ‘The
Big Bang Theory,’ they’re making a
million bucks a week!” Sandy tells
Norman. “Sandy, it’s pabulum;
it’s crap. You’re a world-famous
acting coach. What’s it gonna look
like, you doing a network sitcom?”
Norman responds. It’s a moment
that could appear to just be an old
man trying to help his struggling
friend realize his worth. But then:
“So I didn’t get the part,” Sandy
says. “No,” Norman answers. In
a funny little reference to Lorre’s
other work, this exchange sets
the dynamic for the remainder
of the show: two old men who
will complain endlessly about
the world around them while
desperately longing to be a
functional, meaningful part of it.
This idea of duality is one
that sews a common thread
between every scene of “The
Kominsky Method.” The show’s
first two episodes center around
the death of Norman’s fiery
wife
Eileen
(Susan
Sullivan,
“Castle”).
It’s
heartbreaking
— a clearly crushing blow to
Norman who, unlike his three-
time divorcee friend Sandy, has
been with his wife for decades.
Despite the tragedy, Eileen’s
funeral is a celebration of fun and
comedy MC’ed by Jay Leno and
boasting performances of “Lady
Marmalade” from Patti LaBelle
and “The Way We Were” from
a drag queen dressed as Barbra
Streisand.
These incredible moments in
“The Kominsky Method” make
the lackluster ones even more
disappointing. This is Lorre’s first
venture into the “sadcom” realm,
and the rookie mistakes are
evident. Douglas and Arkin deliver
exceptional performances as men
dealing with all of the drama
of aging, and their chemistry is
contagious. Yet so often the show
gets lost in the bond between
these two men that it borders
on the crime of self-obsession.
“The Kominsky Method” focuses
a bizarre amount on Sandy’s
prostate problems, a truly normal
issue for men of his age, but uses
Norman’s daughter Phoebe (Lisa
Edelstein, “The Good Doctor”)
and her struggle with addiction
as a punchline.
“The Kominsky Method” has
room to improve, but at its core
the show is funny, touching and
a welcome and much-needed
departure from such “pabulum”
shows as “The Big Bang Theory.”
Most of the show’s viewers are
probably not newly widowed
men or has-been acting coaches,
but “The Kominsky Method” is
crafted in such a way that this
doesn’t matter. The trials and
tribulations of being human is
something everyone can relate to.
As Norman says, “It hurts being
human. It hurts like hell. And all
the exploring in the world doesn’t
make that hurt go away because
being human and being hurt
are the same damn thing.” This
may be so, but “The Kominsky
Method” shows viewers all they
need is a friend going through the
same hurt as them — one to tease
and yell at and laugh with, and
just maybe that hurt will go away.
‘The Kominsky Method’ is
a jumbled portrait of aging
SAMANTHA DELLA FERA
Daily Arts Writer
INTERSCOPE RECORDS
“The Kominsky
Method”
Netflix
ALBUM REVIEW
In a world dominated by
social media and the invention
of new career paths, like being
a YouTuber, the extent to which
people share details of their
lives online has skyrocketed.
Netflix’s newest release “Cam”
explores the disastrous effects
of
maintaining
a
popular
online presence and the lack
of authenticity that sites like
Instagram and Snapchat have
injected into our daily lives.
“Cam” follows the life of Alice
Ackerman (Madeline Brewer,
“Orange is the New Black”)
while she works to make it as
a camgirl only to soon discover
that someone, or something, has
taken over her channel. With the
fictional live-streaming site’s
eerie similarity to YouTube and
Alice’s career essentially that of
a YouTuber, the film is able to
highlight the more questionable
practices
prevalent
in
the
online
streaming
platform.
Alice spends days at a time
coming up with new “shows,”
and collaborations are often
a way of gaining new fans.
Views are directly related to
how much money Alice makes
and the company that runs
the site takes a sizable chunk
of the earnings away from its
creators. Only the fact that
Alice showcases and sexualizes
her body instead of her makeup
or DIY skills differentiates what
she does as a sex worker from
that of YouTubers like James
Charles or LaurDIY.
“Cam”
also
forces
the
audience
to
reconsider
prejudices
against
people
making
a
living
in
unconventional ways. The old
joke of becoming a stripper
becomes less of a joke and
more of a reality as people
realize the kind of money that
a good stripper can make and
the kinds of skills that are
required to work in that kind
of trade. Again, the same thing
occurs with Instagram models
and YouTubers — the amount
of work it takes to curate and
develop a successful following
on either of these platforms is a
marketing marvel.
Social media comes with its
downfalls, though, and “Cam”
doesn’t ignore them. The lack of
authenticity that we’re all guilty
of when it comes to posting
on Instagram and Snapchat is
casually noted when Alice is
shown simply scrolling through
a series of pre-taken photos
to satisfy one of her “guys.”
The sticking point of the film
— when Alice’s strange twin
who took over her account — is
a harsh reminder of society’s
fickle attention span and Abby
Lee Miller’s famous words:
“Everyone is replaceable.”
Each moment spent watching
Alice at work is awash in neon
pinks and soft, flattering light
that makes whatever she does
as a camgirl seem like a dream.
Even as her livestream ends,
the same kind of hazy quality
permeates
throughout
the
house that she bought using
money from being a camgirl.
Only when she’s forced to leave
her place of work and confront
the
real
world
does
this
dreamlike state end. The scenes
become dull and are no longer
pastel; where her camgirl life
is awash in blues and pinks, the
real world is a rough mixture of
greens and greys. It’s where her
mother calls her out for biting
her nails instead of her fans
showering her with love and
online tokens, akin to likes on a
YouTube video or an Instagram
photo. This juxtaposition of
color schemes between scenes
showing Alice’s reality and her
career as a camgirl is reflective
of the allure of becoming an
internet personality and, in
truth, the curated nature of the
Instagram profile or Snapchat
story.
The
movie’s
social
commentary,
though,
is
overshadowed by its confusing
plot that never actually answers
some of the questions it poses.
It suggests murder, stalkers and
a strange entity that copies the
profiles and styles of a popular
girl’s site. The first two are
standard thriller concepts but
it’s the idea of some kind of
virus or computer program
that is preying on and taking
advantage of girls online that
leaves something to be desired.
Given the amount of effort sites
like Twitter and Instagram put
into detecting fake accounts,
this seems to be a bit far-fetched.
The only realistic thing about
the situation is that Alice never
actually defeats it, but instead
is just determined to avoid the
same thing from happening
again. More confusing still,
though, is Netflix’s inability
to tactfully handle triggering
topics like suicide. The film
shows Alice using it as a
gimmick to gain views and
money. The movie glorifies and
sexualizes something that has
had detrimental effects on the
lives of many.
The
balance
between
individuality and popularity is
a science that many influencers
strive to perfect and “Cam”
details this desire in a jarring
manner by using a camgirl as
the influencer in question. It’s
a unique and thrilling movie,
but the lack of understanding
behind the plot and mental
health
make
it
about
as
authentic as a Kylie Jenner
Snapchat story.
EMMA CHANG
Daily Arts Writer
“Cam”
Netflix
‘Cam’ is muddled, alluring
social media commentary
FILM REVIEW
6 — Tuesday, November 20, 2018
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com