Yearly Archives: 1998

Liberty and the Dead Donor Rule

December 21, 1998
By

This paper was written for “Bioethics: Issues in Death and Dying,” an Ethics course given by Dr. Rosamond Rhodes that was part of Mark’s customized curriculum in the City University of New York Graduate Center’s Master of Arts in Liberal Studies program. Turned in on December 21, 1998, Mark completed a revision on August 17, 1999, after Dr. Rhodes told him that, of all the students’ paper she’d ever read, this was the most ready for publication.

Read the Liberty and the Dead Donor Rule .pdf.

Wonderful, Rotten World

June 30, 1998
By
Music and Lyrics by Mark S. Meritt

Listen to .mp3 sample of Wonderful, Rotten World.

Sung by Mark S. Meritt.

Circle P - Phonorecord Copyright 2007, 2002 Mark S. Meritt

Lyrics

Sometimes I feel so hungry
Wanting what I have not
Sometimes I feel I don’t need
What I’ve already got

Sometimes I find I’m happy
Sometimes I find I’m sad
Sometimes I find I’m neither
I find that’s not so bad

Two sides to every penny
Sand can become a pearl
Crystal can shatter into glass
Wonderful, rotten world

No matter what the choice is
Always there’s one preferred
A silent wish can be granted
The loudest can go unheard

But knowing what you should wish for
Isn’t a simple task
You may want something different
Once it’s too late to ask

Two sides to every penny
Sand can become a pearl
Crystal can shatter into glass
Horrible, lovely world

One day it’s all smooth sailing
The next day you hit a squall
Each cloud has a silver lining
Yet into each life some rain must fall

All these opposing forces
Yet there are no deadlocks
Never a contradiction
Never a paradox

Wherever life may find us
We may be at extremes
First one and then the other
But most often, in between

Good can’t be good without bad
Goes for both boy and girl
Everything’s black and white and gray
Wonderful, rotten world

© 2007, 1998 Mark S. Meritt

Whenever You Expect the Least

June 30, 1998
By
Music and Lyrics by Mark S. Meritt

Listen to .mp3 sample of Whenever You Expect the Least.

Sung by Mark S. Meritt.

Lyrics

You follow your heart
But it’s all in your head
You don’t know which part
By which your life should be led
You hope and you dream
Of the things that you need
You try and try but never do you seem
To succeed

Imaginary things you’ve always wanted and desired
Remain so far away
It’s no surprise you’re uninspired
But don’t give up because they aren’t here today
For soon they may

When you try to run ahead
You often end up left behind
You need a way to trade your famine for a feast
Take your time, don’t try so hard, and then
Sometimes you will find
You find most
Whenever you expect the least

Looking through tears
Everything is all blurred
You can’t see everything can be okay
Take my word
Accept that your dream
Never may become true
You’ll be alright if not, and if so
Lucky you

Imagine every thing you’ve ever wanted and desired
And know how they can be
Just tell yourself they’re not required
Take it easy and, though there’s no guarantee,
Still, that’s the key

Though try you may to run ahead
You often end up left behind
You need a way to trade your famine for a feast
Take your time don’t try so hard, and then
Sometimes you will find
You find the most
Whenever you expect the least

When you try to run ahead
You often end up left behind
You need a way to trade your famine for a feast
Take your time, don’t try so hard, and then
Sometimes you will find
You find most
And all your trying times will cease
You’ll find most
Whenever you expect the least!

© & Circle P - Phonorecord Copyright 2007, 1998 Mark S. Meritt

Latinize

June 30, 1998
By
Music and Lyrics by Mark S. Meritt

Listen to .mp3 sample of Latinize.

Sung by Mark S. Meritt.

Lyrics

The dance
Is something that most people limit to ballrooms
They jitterbug, foxtrot
So schmaltzy they waltz all around

They prance
In costumes they never would model in all rooms
Quenching libidos
They wear their tuxedos and gowns

Swing or Charleston, it
Always ends up so bland
What they’re missing is
What they don’t understand

Dance is life and life is a dance
You practice it whenever the chance may arise
Burlap, satin; Burma, Manhattan,
Doesn’t matter, long as you Latinize

You start
With rumba and cha-cha, then work up to tango
Formalwear needless
Entirely heedless of clothes

Your heart
Must leap when you hear any Latin fandango
Landlocked or virgin sea
Everywhere urgency grows

Cast a net to embrace
All possible places
You can hoof it in heaven
But bailar is better in blazes

Latinize your toe-tapping hobby
Turn the heat up and begin the beguine
Sample salsa, samba or mambo
If you drop, don’t stop, play the tambourine

When they dance
Boy and girl are entranced
And the world floats away
As they move
They have nothing to prove
They need nothing to say
Friends or lovers or whatever
It matters not to the dance
Long as latinization can find its way into their pants

So Latinize with foes and amigos
Feel it in your feet as the beat goes on
Now flamenco, later meringue
If you drop, don’t stop, bring the Ben Gay on

For dance is life and life is a dance
You practice it whenever the chance may arise
Burlap, satin; Burma, Manhattan,
Doesn’t matter, long as you Latinize

© & Circle P - Phonorecord Copyright 2007, 1998 Mark S. Meritt

Free to Be Seinfeld

May 19, 1998
By

For 168 episodes, Seinfeld reveled in the most minute minutiae, eventually spinning those trivialities into plots with the most cosmic interrelations. The show about nothing was, as has been suggested many times, always really about something. But those somethings were always dealt with overtly, comically, seldom providing pause except to those whose moral codes dictated that even mentioning certain things is distasteful.

Recently, the series came to an end. Jerry felt that it would be better to go out on top. Sad and admirable. The last episode was sure to be highly anticipated, and it was. For the grand finale, what minutiae, what interrelatedness, could possibly top the great moments of the past? None. An episode like all the others — different in topic but with no intention at creating an event — would surely be an anticlimactic disappointment. Then again, anything was sure to disappoint.

So why was the finale as unusual as it was? In a lose-lose situation, the notion must have simply been “why not,” why not do something different? But, under the guise of nothingness, the show had covered a little of everything. What was left? Only two things remained, two things which had been actually taboo for the show that pretended to have no taboos — true emotionally and intellectualism.

Moments before the final episode itself, a clips preview ended with a syrupy montage, with Green Day’s schmaltz in the background. For the first time, Seinfeld took a turn toward overt sentimentality. Other than in parodic ways, such as when Jerry suddenly became emotional and loving or when Frank Costanza professed his devotion to the Korean manicurist, this had never happened before. It seemed unnaturally natural for this to give way to the grand ethical debate that was the final episode itself.

After standing idly by while a man is carjacked, the New York Four are put on trial — not just for this sin of omission during their country visit, but for the whole nine years of the show. This was not even symbolic — in the trial itself, their deeds over the years are run by them, as if their lives, about to come to an end, are flashing before their eyes.

The series had thrived on characters that were often thought to be unlikeable, on situations that were often thought to be horrible and twisted. Now, it was all to be put to the test. In Seinfeld’s world, like them or not, what defines right and wrong?

First thing’s first: obviously we liked them. We kept them on the air at the top of the ratings, even through comparatively mediocre seasons. But was this despite their nastiness, or precisely because of it? Are they, in fact, guilty?

As they are convicted and thrown in jail for a year, the easy conclusion is that they are paying for all their sins — their nasty personalities have finally gotten the best of them. “Even Steven” is finally receiving his just desserts, balancing out the years in which he got away with so much. What goes around comes around, and selflessness has won out over the self-centered nature of the characters.

But here in this final episode, emotionality and intellectualism are subverting the last nine years of what the show was all about. The entire history of the series’ content is turned on its ear. Is it not possible that this subversiveness is there for a reason? Is it not possible that this superficial “message” is not the real one to take home?

Remember — as nasty as the group always was, it takes a trip to the heartland to get them accused and tried. And it was not the show’s popularity in urban areas alone that assured its success — that same heartland made the show the smash it was. It is not just urbanites like the characters who approved of the show, but the heartlanders who watched, possibly not despite but because of the group’s flaws.

If the group is guilty, we — the whole audience, urbanites and heartlanders alike — are guilty. Seinfeld is saying “j’accuse” to us, rather than the other way around. The heartland especially is revealed to be hypocritical. We all are the ones one who kept the show’s ratings high. If punishment is just for the group, the same punishment should be meted out to us.

But consider the contrapositive: If we are innocent, then they are innocent.

Legislated selflessness cannot make good. We may not have always agreed with the group, but they were free to make choices. And if the series as a whole ever had a message, it is only now revealed in this new light — Seinfeld defended freedom.

Behind bars at the end, they appear not to have changed. The superficial interpretation, of course, is, how sad, they are no different, even this punishment cannot change them. Their whole lives were self-made prisons — they barred themselves in the insular world of Monk’s, the jail of Manhattan, the big evil city — and this is what they will always be, this is what they had coming to them all along.

But the real message is clear. Manhattan, the island, is just like the people on it, who are free to be islands unto themselves if they want to be. These are things to be cherished. The freedom to be selfish and despicable is theirs and ours, even if we choose to be something else. Manhattan is not a prison. Monk’s is not a prison. Even the prison in which they are jailed is not a real prison — in there, they are more free than those who legislate selflessness outside the jail, more free than those who allow themselves to live by this legislated morality. After all, how can these people’s lives be self-made prisons, how can their home be an island prison, when crime has steadily decreased and the quality of living has increased in Manhattan during the very period in which the series ran? The stereotype and the myth are dispelled.

If freedom was not the key message behind Seinfeld, how else could these people have been the way they were, done the things they did, thought the things they thought, said the things they said? It all would have been impossible. Without their freedom, we would not have had the series to love.

It’s not like all their laughing and exploiting and manipulating got them anywhere. As their lives go, they just spun their wheels. But they were mostly content to do so. Fine, let them be. And, in fact, more often than not, things did not work out for them in the end. The genuine happy ending was never anywhere to be seen. Why, if that’s the case, do they deserve a cosmic punishment at the series’ end? The answer is that they do not, that the prison sentence is effectively not much more than an inconvenience for them. It is not what everyone thinks.

The ghosts from their past, all the people whose lives were sullied by the group, may come back to haunt them at the end. But, indeed, these malcontents are on the side of those who would legislate selflessness, who would force people to be a certain way. And they thus reveal themselves to be unwilling to accept their own freedom, to accept responsibility for their own actions, blaming everything instead on the New York Four.

Jerry and his friends have been through enough cosmic interrlations to know that the world works in a certain way. It is precisely this understanding of life as a system that allows them to be themselves within it — and to accept their jail sentence with aplomb. The sentence is no different for them than any of the dozens of episode endings. Their “enemies,” on the other hand, never had the same chance to acquaint themselves so intimacy with the holism of the world. It is only this lack of understanding that gives them the justification to lay blame. They, and anyone else who would punish the New York Four, are prisoners of their own minds, victims of their own ignorance about how the world works. Their willingness to punish is itself evidence that they are anything but free. Even in their supposed defeat, the Seinfeld group have triumphed. Like the victim of a concentration camp who remains free in his mind no matter what the Nazis may do to him physically, the New York Four remain totally free to be themselves even when a misguided and unenlightened society throws them in jail. They create their own lives within the system handed to them — everyone else merely allows the system to have its way with them.

Remember what Larry Flynt said. To paraphrase, if the law can be made to protect them, then it can be made to protect you — to protect everyone. If the law comes down on Larry — or Jerry, George, Elaine and Kramer — how far behind are we really? Judge not lest ye be judged.

Why should we wish to punish them? We are free because they are free. And more importantly, we always enjoyed the fruits of their freedom. Had they not been free to be and do and think and say, where would we have been these last nine years?

Is this a conflict between left-wing liberal urbanites and right-wing conservative family-values-oriented heartlanders? Absolutely not! It’s the urbanites here who are selfish, out for themselves (stereotypically right-wing and capitalist traits) while the heartlanders are passing good Samaritan laws, demanding that everyone hold a love-in for their fellow man. As quirky as it is, Seinfeld is about the real world. It is about real people. And people and situations cannot always be broken down into black and white — neither the urbanites nor the heartlanders are exclusively right-wing or left-wing. This is not about left vs. right. By blurring the lines, the finale puts the entire bipartisan paradigm on its ear, just as it does with the previous seasons of the series.

To sum up in the manner of Cary Elwes’ always-ask-a-question-then-answer-it-yourself-character: Was the finale a great episode? Certainly not in the way some of the most memorable ones are. Can sense be made about why the hell Jerry and Company would decide to go out that way? I think so.

A Textbook Case of the Blues

January 31, 1998
By
Music and Lyrics by Mark S. Meritt

Listen to .mp3 sample of A Textbook Case of the Blues.

Sung by Mark S. Meritt.

Lyrics

My life don’t make no sense, so I’ve been searching around for clues
No, no, no, nothing’s making sense, so I’ve been searching everywhere for some clues
But no matter where I look
I’ve got a textbook case of the blues

I try to play the game, but every hand is one I lose
Yes, I try to stay in the game, but every hand is one that I lose
Someone’s marking all the decks
I’ve got a textbook case of the blues

Lonely, lonely me, while other people go in twos
Oh, lonely, lonely me, everyone else is going two-by-twos
I am severely undersexed
I’ve got a textbook case of the blues

No matter where I amble
It never is a gamble
I always end up in a wreck
It’s terribly frustrating
There’s always someone waiting
To slip a noose around my neck

People telling me that I should have a seat in the church pews
All those people telling me I should be seeking solace in pews
But all that hokey dreck
Can’t cure my textbook case of the blues

I’m a monkey in the middle of lots of don’ts & dos
I am a monkey in the middle and I don’t know how to choose
They’ve got me confused
Don’t know where to go to next
I’ve got a textbook case of the blues

No one to rely on
No shoulder I can cry on
I wallow here, a babblin’ brook
No answers for my questions
No hopes and no possessions
I don’t even know how to cook

A smile’s so hard to come by when there’s nothing to make you amused
I’m frowning everyday along this one-way displeasure cruise
All this sadness has me shook
Can’t shake this textbook case of the blues

I wear it up and down, from my head straight to my shoes
I wear it ’round the town, from aquariums to zoos
From the bottom to apex
Zero balance in my checks
Someone’s cursed me with a hex
And I am left completely vexed
Life’s a crook, it’s all been took
Except my textbook case of the blues

If the Shoe Fits

January 31, 1998
By
Music and Lyrics by Mark S. Meritt

Listen to .mp3 sample of If the Shoe Fits.

Sung by Mark S. Meritt.

Lyrics

As you go walking
On down the street
You want to look your best, be so well dressed from head to feet
You feel your outfits
Can’t go without glitz
Search the store

But what you dream of
May not come true
Instead you find a less extravagent but comfortable shoe
It may cost two bits
But if the shoe fits
Buy one more

We all have wants, you know, and that’s alright
But wants alone can mislead
A chocolate bar quenches your appetite
But sometimes what you want’s not what you need

Some cotton candy
And then a pear
A lazy Saturday inside, then Sunday out in the air
Use all your talents
And strike a balance
It’s tried and true

Things unexpected
Thrown in the mix
And if those somethings aren’t broken then there’s nothing to fix
They may cost two bits
But if the shoe fits
Purchase two

Diamond studded loafers will not do you any good
If you’re scared to wear them ’round the neighborhood

Things unexpected
Thrown in the mix
And if those somethings aren’t broken then there’s nothing to fix
They may cost two bits
But if the shoe fits
Purchase two

And with a lover
You will discover
One will do

© & Circle P - Phonorecord Copyright 2007, 1997 Mark S. Meritt

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