Republicans Love 'Breeder' Shows, Democrats Love Mad Men, Says New TV Study | Movieline

Politics and TV habits:

As it turns out, popular shows are watched by Republicans! The Amazing Race, Modern Family, American Idol, Dancing with the Stars and The Big Bang Theory, among other Nielsen thoroughbreds, have a larger number of Republican fans than Democrat ones. The reason for this? Basically that Republicans like rooting for a winner. (No wonder so many Yankees fans are also Republicans.)

On the flipside, “critically acclaimed” series like Mad Men, Dexter, 30 Rock, Friday Night Lights and Parks & Recreation are watched by Democrats. So, the losers. Of course the fact that Democrats might consider themselves “too cool for school” is only half the issue, according to John Fetto, senior marketing manager for Experian Simmons.

“The big shows with mass appeal tend to have above-average scores from Democrats and Republicans but with higher concentrations of Republicans. Looking at the Democrats side, I don’t mean to make light of it, but they seem to like shows about damaged people. Those are the kind of shows Republicans just stay away from.”

I would have been happier with the shorter version: Republicans watch shows that are stupid; Democrats watch shows that are smart.

Lance Mannion: All the mad men and all the mad women are about to go Galt

An analysis of Mad Men by way of Ayn Rand. Pretty great when you can read stuff like this:

Work, as far as they’re concerned, is not its own reward. They don’t take pride in a job well done because they can never be sure that they will continue to hold that job no matter how well they do it. Someone who can do it better will always come along to impress the bosses and where will that leave them? People who just work don’t have worth no matter how well or hard they work. People who just work are just useful to the people who produce.

Now, The Hobo Code is not an endorsement of their Randian world view. In fact the episode and the entire series is a refutation of the idea that the world of work and business is a world of solitary and independent heroes carrying the parasites along on their broad shoulders.

Mad Men Season Premiere Recap: Stage Fright -- Vulture

A recap of the season 4 premiere:

The gangs-all-here feel makes for a satisfying sort of reunion show, but in many ways, it's also a show about role-playing: How Don's most challenging creative account is his constant performance and spin — the brand management of himself. Seeing that his old answer to "Who is Don Draper" has become obsolete, Don, and the show, are refreshing and rebranding. Welcome to the reboot.

Which is true, but then again it isn't really. Like all great TV, Mad Men isn't really about its storylines or its historical moment. It simply asks the question: what is the good life and how does one live thoughtfully and authentically in a world of surfaces and commercial transactions? Existentialism 101; authenticity in the face of absurdity and contingency. "Who is Don Draper" is always the only question. The move toward and the dread the comes along with a self-authenticating self-awareness.

Far From the Mad Men Crowd

I haven't been keeping up with Mad Men because I figure, that's what DVDs were invented for, right? But when I read stuff like this and this, I wonder if I'm missing out, or sparing myself a lot of headache:

See, if you’re writing to catch Mad Men in an uncharacteristic mistake (one that Weiner admitted some time ago), it’s fine to say, “As it happens, however, Bryn Mawr has never had sororities.” Saying “of course Bryn Mawr has never had sororities” is quite another speech act, something akin to using the phrase “non-U genteelisms” a bit later in the paragraph.  U and non-U!  Ah, now, that one takes me back ... to a time before Schwarz and I were born.  It was just before teatime, I believe, the fall of 1954, Henry Pordes bookshop in Charing Cross Road, and Schwarz and I were chatting about Nancy Mitford’s essay.  “Die” was definitely U, we agreed, and “pass away” very non-U.  “An egregious stumble on the part of Mad Men, that Bryn Mawr business,” I said.  “Indeed,” Schwarz concurred, “though seemingly a small one.” “Of what,” I asked, “is it generally and specifically emblematic, do you think?  And have the cognoscenti largely ignored any of the show’s quiet virtues while extolling what are really the show’s considerable flaws?” “Ah,” replied Schwarz.  “I’m glad you asked.” 

I have officially run out of cultural capital. Bankrupt! Not only do I know nothing about the inner machinations of Bryn Mar (or which Seven Sister is which for that matter), but I didn't even know there was a difference between U and non-U. How can I possibly hope to keep up? After all I thought it was just a costume drama set 50 years in the past where the central pleasures were derived from vicarious smoking, drinking, and non-pc attitudes. For the real fan, it's apparently a fantasy show that recalls a better time when the collective "we" were separated by class - its signifiers and shibboleths - and those who were non-U knew their place.

What's the Pitch?

This is good advice from the Storytellers Unplugged:

I was at some author event the other night and doing the chat thing with people at the pre-dinner cocktail party and found myself in conversation with an aspiring author who had just finished a book, and naturally I asked, “What’s your book about?”

And she said – “Oh, I can’t really describe it in a few sentences– there’s just so much going on in it.”

WRONG ANSWER.

The time to know what your book is about is before you start it, and you damn well better know what it’s about by the time it’s finished and people, like, oh, you know - agents and editors, are asking you what it’s about.

And here’s another tip – when people ask you what your book is about, the answer is not “War” or “Love” or “Betrayal” or “Zombies”, even though your book might be about one or all of those things. Those words don’t distinguish YOUR book from any of the millions of books about those things.

When people ask you what your book is about, what they are really asking is – “What’s the premise?” In other words, “What’s the story line in one easily understandable sentence?”

The elevator pitch is a well-worn technique in almost any circumstance, but it's particularly useful in the arts. If you can't explain what you're doing, or what you're working on in a sentence or two, then you probably don't actually understand it well enough to make it a success. All you have is a cloud of ideas buzzing around your head but you haven't yet found the essence of the problem, haven't gotten down deep enough.

What finding the premise does is allow you to sell the story, and reinforce that essence (that thing that makes it different and therefore better than everything else out there). This what they do in Mad Men when Don Draper has one of his eureka moments and is able to relate products to our innermost desires and do so in single line of advertising copy.

Mad Men 2.1

The new season of Mad Men does not quite pick up where last season left off which leaves us with a huge gap to fill with wondering whatever happened to Peggy's bundle of (surprise) joy.

In the meantime, Don is getting old, facing 40, going to seed, etc. etc. At the office, the Silent generation is starting to get hints that the Baby Boomers (young folks, hipsters) are moving in and getting ready to destroy everything they've built, or at least grabbed onto and claimed for their own.

The similarities in culture shift are frighteningly similar to what we've seen in the rise of Gen-Y that I could just spit. And the real rub is that Don has already had it better at his age than any Gen-Xer ever will. More power, more money, more prestige, more secretaries. The only thing relatable about him is his emergent obsolescence.