Class war

[Greetings to Bad Hair Blog readers from Mary at Exit Zero]

I just visited Sluggo Needs a Nap, and read Sluggo’s review of the New York Times’ series on class divisions in America, Class Matters. According to Sluggo, reading it “is as painful as watching Paris Hilton show up to volunteer at a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving with her PR staff.”

Very true. I followed the link and tried to read Class Matters – but the Times’ pop-up ad for Cartier Diamonds kept getting in my way.

Then I went on to read the Times’ review of a movie I’d just seen, Cinderella Man, the inspirational story about Irish boxer James Braddock, who rose from gritty poverty to a position of wealth. This movie had the audience standing up and cheering at the end.

The Times’ reviewer said of the movie:

Filled with ups and heartbreaking downs, it is a story that can put a lump in your throat, though given Mr. Howard’s inclination toward hokum, a lump on which you might easily gag.

Of the boxer who proclaimed his love for America, and who fought in WWII:

a man who, having sampled the blood of others, clearly enjoyed the taste

Funny thing – the Times liked the wealthy brat-to-homicidal-totalitarian tale that began during Che Guevera’s summer break from college. They called Motorcycle Diaries:

a rambunctious buddy picture (thanks in part to Rodrigo de la Serna’s high-spirited portrayal of the Falstaffian Granado), a breathtaking travelogue and an unusual love story. The love in question is Ernesto’s sensual and spiritual connection to the continent itself, beautifully communicated through Eric Gautier’s sublime cinematography

I guess, as far as the Times is concerned, some forms of class mobility are more equal than others.