“The Apprentice” vs. “Survivor”

I’ve made no secret over the years that I positively hate the show Survivor, because it’s boring and it rewards people for behaving in ways I’d never ever ever want to see rewarded in real life with anything other than a swift kick in one of several nether regions. But then, I’ve become hooked on The Apprentice, which is basically Survivor transposed to a business environment. I’ve been trying to figure out why I like Donald Trump’s show and not the other one, and I’ve come up with two main reasons.

:: The “challenges”. Both shows divide a group of people into two smaller groups, who are then set to competing against one another in a specific “challenge” (in Survivor lingo), or “task” (as it’s called on The Apprentice). The team which wins typically earns some kind of reward, while the team that loses gets to sit down with Trump or Jeff Probst, dissect the defeat, and then see one of its members shown the door.

On The Apprentice, the tasks are business related things that do pertain to actual skills a business person might need: negotiation, sales skills, management of personnel, et cetera. Yes, they’re still manufactured tasks — such as the episode when the two teams each took a day “managing” the Planet Hollywood at Times Square. (I’m sure they weren’t really managing the entirety of that restaurant’s operation.) But for the purposes of the show, they’re real enough. Contrast that with the dorky games they come up with for Survivor:

OK, Survivors, listen up! What we have here is an obstacle course! First you’re gonna hop on one foot across these three-inch wide beams over those mud pits. Then, you’re going to get into one of these rowboats and row across this pond using oars from which the blades have been removed. When you reach the other side, you’ll find a piece of paper on which the name of a Broadway show has been written; you must sing one verse of one song from that show before you move on to the rope ladder which we have covered with maple syrup. At the top of that ladder, you’ll find a flag. Pull that down and then swim back to the starting point, at which point your second person will go. The first team to bring back all five flags wins immunity!

Yeah — the ability to do that well is one which will really come in useful sometime down the line. And really, there’s something about the whole Survivor exercise that reminds me of my grade school gym classes, when we’d walk in to discover the gym set up in some weird fashion we haven’t seen before — say, the high horse sitting in front of a miniature dodge-ball court in turn in front of a rack of medicine-balls — with the teacher standing there with his hands behind his back, whistle around his neck, and always starting each instance of gym class with the words, “OK, listen up!” We’d be thinking, “What the hell is this?”, with much the same expressions of bewilderment that the contestants on Survivor display. Of course, back then, we didn’t get fresh pizza or a trip to a spa on the next island over if we won.

None of that crap, though, on The Apprentice. Briefings on-the-fly by the boss are pretty standard in any job these days.

:: My other reason for liking The Apprentice while hating Survivor is simple: NO ALLIANCES.

Half of each episode of Survivor seems to always be devoted to contestants trying to form alliances with their teammates to get rid of other teammates, preserve themselves in “the game”, et cetera. I guess the show’s fans find this all very interesting, but to me it’s always incredibly boring. There really are only so many hushed conversations out by the water hole or down by the waterline about whether or not it’s George or Tammy or Brunhilde’s time to go or whether they’re a threat next week or whether they can be counted on when voting time rolls around which I am prepared to watch, and I reached my quota way back during the very first iteration of Survivor. Of course, the show’s fans may claim that each season this stuff gets more compelling, since the initial level of trust now seems to be set at zero, but really, it’s all terribly boring and the same.

On The Apprentice, though, this alliance-stuff doesn’t happen — or at least, not nearly to the extent it does on Survivor. The show is structured to keep it from happening. Nobody is “voted off” The Apprentice; each week, Donald Trump alone decides who gets tossed. The losing team’s “Project Manager” — i.e., the team member who took charge of that episode’s “task” — decides on two teammates who will confront Mr. Trump, while the remainder of the team, now safe from being fired, goes back upstairs to the suite. Then, Trump quizzes the Project Manager and the two teammates before finally firing one of these three. (Now that the show has progressed to the point where there are too few contestants left for things to work this way, I assume the process will change slightly.)

When there’s only one vote being cast, and it’s not even being cast by a contestant, there’s not much to gain by trying to gather everyone to your side. Sure, there’s a little of it — pledges by project managers not to take certain people into the board room, and that kind of thing — but it’s really surprisingly ineffective. (A couple of weeks ago, just such a strategy completely backfired for a Project Manager, and she got fired.) This lack of all that boring crap about alliance-forming and who betrayed whom and so on makes The Apprentice a lot more interesting to watch.

Of course, once The Apprentice is into a fifth or sixth season, all this might have changed and the show may have become boring. But I found Survivor pretty uninteresting in its first season, whereas I’m enjoying The Apprentice a lot.

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Oh, come ON!

It used to be that you never knew when you’d want glowing, flashing, technocolor teeth while out for a night of club-hopping, dancing, and frolicking about. Well, once again, thanks to technology you’ll never have to pine for a glowing oral cavity again! Behold the Oral Disco!

I’d like to see someone where one of these into a biker bar, in a small town in Georgia, after midnight. Now that would be fun. Or, as they say in some parts, a “hootenanny”!

(Need you ask? via Warren Ellis)

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Great Moments in Candy-Making (and some not-so-great ones, too)

You know those easter-egg shaped Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups that come out every Easter? Well, someone at Hershey or Mars or wherever finally had the most obvious epiphany of all time: Why do those egg-shaped knockoffs of popular candy bars have to be Peanut Butter Cups, and only Peanut Butter Cups?

Hence, today I discovered Easter-egg shaped Milky Ways, Snickers’s, and — oh joy of joys — Mounds’s and Almond Joys. I nearly cried at the beauty of it all.

But then, there’s the flip side. I love candy corn in the fall, I really do. It’s one of the few food items that I associate with a very definite time of year, so much so that I won’t even consider buying candy corn at any time other than late September and the month of October, no matter how much I like the stuff. (And I like it a lot.) I’m not going to change on this, either, so I’m afraid that changing the color of candy-corn from orange to a variety of pastels, and calling it “Easter Corn”, is not likely to change my mind here.

By the way, there’s something I enjoyed some years ago, and I’ve never seen it since — nor did I make note of the brand name, so I have no idea where to even look. It was a peanut butter cup, and I figured I knew what I was getting, since the wrapper said “Peanut Butter Cup” on it even though it wasn’t a Reese’s. But when I unwrapped it, I discovered that it was, in fact, just that: a peanut butter cup. There was no chocolate at all. It was as if the peanut butter center of a Reese’s had been expanded to become the entire cup!

The Reese’s people did come up with something close to this a while back, on a limited basis. They called it an “Inside-Out Reese’s”, and it was a peanut butter shell with a chocolate interior. That was close, but I still want the version with no chocolate. (Nothing against chocolate, mind you. I adore chocolate, in all its forms — even white. Yeah, I know, white chocolate isn’t technically chocolate. So what? Root beer isn’t really beer!)

I seem to recall that one of the standard pieces in a Whitman’s Sampler is a no-chocolate peanut butter cup, but it has been many years since I enjoyed a Whitman’s Sampler, so I’m not sure. Whitman’s Samplers were always fun, though, when I was a kid — I still recall vividly that first discovery of the second layer of candy, and I recall the ritual that the piece shaped like the Whitman’s delivery boy was the last piece of the upper level to be consumed before proceeding to the lower level. Those were the days.

Oh, and back when I used to receive lots of shopping catalogs (those were the days — catalogs make great bathroom reading, because that is the only room in which one can look at some of the items in the catalogs and actually think, “Damn, I need one of those”), one of them always advertised “Maple Nut Goodie” candy bars, sold by the small tin for something like $29.95 plus shipping. The catalog claimed that these candy bars are beloved in Minnesota. Well, I happen to have some Minnesotans amongst my readership, so, are these things beloved? Or, are they merely good? I ask because I love the flavor of maple.

Also, I admire the elaborate lengths to which folks who make suckers and lollipops go these days, but for my money, there will never be any sucker better than your basic old Tootsie-Pop. (I always buy them at the bulk section, because that way I can avoid getting the chocolate-flavored ones. What I said above about loving chocolate does not apply to chocolate-flavored hard candy.)

And to conclude this rambling paean to All Things Bad For Your Teeth, here in Buffalo there’s a popular item called “sponge candy”. I find it hard to describe, but it’s like if they take yellow sponge cake and somehow cook it until it’s very hard — maybe they fry it — and then it’s dipped and coated in either milk or dark chocolate. People in Buffalo adore this stuff, but for some reason, I just don’t get into it. I find the texture weird and the sponge center flavorless.

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Yeah, yeah, TPM sucked, I get it.

Last night’s episode of The Simpsons opened with a five-minute long meditation on Star Wars fans. Basically, everybody in Springfield is shown standing in line to see a movie called something like Cosmic Wars I: The Gathering Threat. At the head of the line is Comic Book Guy, decked out in flannel and jeans, just like the genius creator of Cosmic Wars. And then the movie starts, with the opening crawl droning on and on about “regulatory agencies” and whatnot. And a character named “Jim Jom Bonks”, and so on. Basically, The Simpsons invoked nearly every pithy whine about The Phantom Menace ever uttered, and all as a set-up for a story about Homer and Marge drinking too much.

Some of it was kind of funny, but it was also tired and lame — I’ll admit that I laughed, but it was at the same time that I was thinking, “Good Lord, that movie came out five years ago! You’re just getting around to lampooning it now?” Not the finest in topical humor, guys.

(Apparently, the Star Wars parody stuff can be downloaded at TheForce.net, if you’re dying to see it. I’d advise waiting for the rerun. The episode’s main story was pretty dull.)

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Geez, why didn’t I ever think of that?!

In the last few hours, I’ve seen two articles linked from outposts in Blogistan that involve artistic folks who have been forced, via shifts in the nature of their chosen artistic field, to get day jobs not in that field. One is cited here, by Friedrich of the Dynamic Blowhardic Duo, and I’ve seen the other in a number of places already — John Scalzi first, and Teresa Nielsen Hayden has devoted space for what’s sure to be a long comment thread about it.

I’m of mixed mind when I see things like this. First, it annoys me that we’re constantly bombarded with rhetoric in this world that we can do anything we want to do, and yet, we really can’t; but then, it also annoys me that people complain that they can’t, as if they’re shocked — shocked! — to discover that we haven’t come round to the world depicted in Star Trek when self-betterment is the goal of everybody. I don’t know, really. I tend to be a believer that one should play the cards they’re dealt, but I’m also sympathetic to the fact that the cards just don’t get dealt fairly, and ultimately I suspect that we aren’t afforded nearly as many choices in this world as we like to pretend we are.

No, I have no point here, just half-baked ramblings.

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Blogging versus Writing, again

Will Duquette posts some thoughts in response to my thoughts yesterday about whether blogging is good practice for writers.

I, too, have seen the “Get a blank piece of paper and fill it” practice advice, and I tried it for a time a few years ago; it came from a book called Writer’s Book of Days or something like that, and the book offered topics or scene suggestions to get started. I enjoyed it, but after a while I stopped, and not for any particular reason, really. Basically, I figured that once one gets used to writing every day, one doesn’t have to practice it — one merely does it. That’s the function of the blog these days, I think.

By the way, the other day I discovered an old John Scalzi post about some of the same issues while digging through his archives for something else.

(Will also asks, in his post, how to pronouce “Jaquandor”. I suppose it doesn’t matter much, since I swiped it from an obscure 1980s comic book, but my way of saying it is “juh-KWAN-dor”. I’ve kicked around using “Jack Wander” as a pseudonym on my horror novels, if I ever get around to writing them, as a nod back to my longtime Net alias. I doubt that would have much mileage, though, joke-wise.)

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Crap….which button do I push to let the water out of the dam, again?!

If you have an AOL Instant Message account, apparently you can put it to good use by playing classic Infocom text adventure games like ZORK. Man alive, did I ever NOT need to know about this. And now I have a hankering to play Colossal Cave, too….and all those bare-bones, but still entertaining, Scott Adams text adventures.

(If you like graphical adventure games like MYST, and you’ve never tried their text-based forebears, then what are you waiting for? Just don’t start with Suspended. That game will make you want to kill people. Trust me.)

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Damned Kids….

When I worked for Pizza Hut, the most dreaded time of year was not the Holiday season, or even Mother’s Day. What we hated most was Regents Exam Week in New York State, because that’s when classes end in public schools and kids only have to show up to take whatever exams are required of them. So, if they only have a single class in which there’s an exam, the only time they need to be in the school is the appointed hour of that exam. Otherwise, they are pretty much given free reign. And that almost exclusively affects high schoolers; middle school kids – your seventh, eighth and some ninth graders – have no exams at all, and thus they’re basically on vacation as soon as Regents Week dawns.

In the town where my Pizza Hut was located, the middle school would have “half days” for the entirety of Regents Week, which were little more than exercises in school-run babysitting in the morning. Around noon, the kids would be unleashed, and since my restaurant (among others) was just a half-mile’s walk down the street, we’d get swamped with horribly behaved kids absent of any adult supervision whatsoever. It was pure, unadulterated hell. They’d trash the place, demolish the lunch buffet, and leave the servers almost nothing in tips. And for some reason, the adult lunch crowd would never understand why the place was always such a mess that week.

I’m reminded of all this by Sarah Jane Elliott‘s collection of things she’s finding herself saying to the kids inundating her workplace on Spring Break. Ah, the memories….

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Another Book Quiz: First Lines (but with a twist)

I had fun compiling the “Last Lines of Books” quiz from the other day, so here I am, coming up with another. This one’s “First Lines”, but with a twist: these aren’t the first lines of the books themselves, but rather the first lines of spoken dialogue in the books. And in some cases, books can go pages and pages before anyone talks! Take that, Flanders!

In terms of method, what I do here is quote the lines themselves, stripped of dialogue attribution that would identify the speaker. I have not, though, edited out any names mentioned within the dialogue lines themselves, which may tip a few of them off. OK? Here we go….

1. “Come out, Neville!”

2. “Good evening, rya. Will you eat some dinner? They’ve got a hotchewitchi on the fire, smells very kushto.”

3. “Raziel, what in heaven’s name are you doing?”

4. “I seen him about three months ago. He had a operation. Cut somepin out. I forget what.”

5. “Go away! Get out of here! You ought to be ashamed!”

6. “Why? Why must it be horseshoes? As if we had any horses!”

7. “You’re not taking this seriously. Behave yourself.”

8. “Is he not small for his age, Jessica?”

9. “I’ve watched through his eyes, I’ve listened through his ears, and I tell you he’s the one. Or at least as close as we’re going to get.”

10. “It will have to be paid for. It isn’t natural, and trouble will come of it!”

11. “Do you think the roof will fall in on us today? Did the frost hurt your stinkweed?”

12. “Yeah, that’s true. It’s even better when you’ve been sentenced to death. That’s when you remember the jokes about they guys who kicked their boots off as the noose flipped around their necks, because their friends always told them they’d die with their boots on.”

13. “We should start back. The wildlings are dead.”

14. “We be jammin’ now, mon!”

15. “Be careful, unless you want to trip over a sculptor.”

16. “Hmmm. That’s quite a drop.”

Answers will appear Thursday, if I’m so inclined. So have fun, and have a look at the other quiz, too!

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