Word: basers
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...wider social issues—Bok underplays the negative influence of television, for example. The role of government in determining quality of life is large, but not quantifiable; if children fight with their parents, if pop music has become derivative and commercialized, if Hollywood films pander to our baser instincts while better movies are made in Europe, our government is partially to blame. Bok’s attempt to quantify its role in these things fails, but when he is confined to a less overarching set of problems, he has some very interesting things...
Refusing to engage in this debate casts those who take an opposing position as unfit to join the discussion. Indeed, Orr's column descended into ad hominem attacks on conservatives as frightened, oppressive tyrants, ignoring the possible justifications for their position and focusing on the contingencies, confusions and perhaps baser instincts that might have led them to hold it. These arguments don't convince anyone; all they do is give conservatives a free pass. Attacking those who begin the debate as homophobes, or saying that one is "appalled" by the very investigation of the question, creates an impression that anyone...
Sure, it's easy to forget what is glorious about the Games, especially in non-O years. There are times when the five linked rings--supposed to represent the harmonious union of continents--seem to symbolize instead the tawdry connections between sport and so many of society's baser attributes. We read all the time about the scandals. Doping. Tainted records. Bribery. Boycotts. And in Olympics immemorial, racism and sexism. We begin to wonder why we ever made such a big deal of the Olympics...
...only a 2% chance of having to marry some desperate Croesus--then to every other woman who chooses a mate. (Not to mention men: try pitching a special called Who Wants to Marry a Sweet Guy with a Decent Job?) And it was genius: an irresistible tour of our baser natures that left us dying for the sequel...
...opening weekend alone (making it the highest-grossing Miramax debut ever)? Why the desperate need to sneak into the cinema on a stolen afternoon--only to run into everyone else in your blocking group? Why the masochistic vertigo of surrendering all your intellectual and critical powers to your baser appetite for good-looking things? Why the bashful admission that, yes, I love it, and I'm waiting for the video? She's All That May not challenge. But it undeniably satisfies...