Digital Refrain

Photo by Connor Huchton

In 2017, Raymond Green began a slow and irrevocable descent towards blindness. He was the greatest filmmaker of our generation, and everyone was quite upset when they read the news on Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr.

It is unknown what Raymond Green does now. After a few public statements and awards appearances littered with great reverence and wry jokes, Ray departed into some unknown ether within the sprawl of Los Angeles. His friends occasionally spoke of his good health and continued happiness in various public forums, but little else was written or said.

I doubt his happiness, against my own better nature.

Frankly, I wonder how he stands things now. Here’s a guy who lived his life thorough a lens and traversed from each perfectly constructed image to the next. And now he’ll never see anything again. Nothing. Not one of those perfect images, and nothing in between. So what does Raymond Green do now?

Perhaps he writes.

Photo by Connor Huchton

The room screamed with noise and status. Men in dark suits and women in bright dresses walked in circles and spoke of someplace else.

Don Larchmann, former mayor and businessman and current money launderer, commented smugly to his strained date that this room contained nothing but bullshit and whispers. The real people, he confidently revealed, weren’t here, and if they were, they wouldn’t say a word.

Don may have been right, but his comment missed the point. His gaze ignored the man who stared, the man who did not circle. This was the man whose eyes fell not on the nondescript paintings or who was who and what was what. This man focused entirely on the white spaces between the carefully overpriced specks of genius. So stark, those white spaces.

All had soon departed, but the walls and the man who watched them remained. The paintings now lay in the corner, stacked with little respect or heed for their integrity. They appeared far more at ease within the apex of this rough jostling than they ever had glued to the rectangular room’s white walls. Near the top of the unceremonious stack, the edge of a stylized self-portait peered out, a raised eyebrow and jutting nose revealed upon the muse’s face.

The muse stood next to his own visage and glanced down, arms folded and eyes drawn to the blankness surrounding him once more. And there he remained until sunrise.

Illustration by Mary Grace Ewald

by Connor Huchton

In the second episode of the Digital Refrain Podcast (don’t let the title above confuse you), Thom Powell joins me to discuss a week of thought-provoking television, from the pilot of Aaron Sorkin’s The Newsroom to the third season premiere of Louis CK’s Louie. Listen to our lengthy and occasionally meandering (but ultimately compelling!) conversation below.

Listen Here.

by Connor Huchton

What is the meaning of life? Why is this one of my favorite meals? Why do I come to this place so often? Should I try something else? Should I explore the world of the fast food menu and choose variety over pure, uncomplicated deliciousness?

These are the questions I ask myself as I enter the local Whataburger(s). I feel centered when I eat the Honey BBQ Chicken Strip Sandwich on Texas Toast. There is nothing else to think about beyond the chicken strips, cheese, and barbecue sauce that encompass its glorious center. I can feel only happiness as I chew, mixed with the slightest trepidation at that the knowledge that someday, the meal will end, and I will regret that I didn’t savor every bite just a little bit slower and that I didn’t eat my fries first. But as I bite, I forget these things. I forget it all. I forget everything but impeccable taste and the immersion that only this kind of sandwich I can bring.

At the local Whataburger I frequent, many employees are already aware of what I’m going to order (or seem almost expectant as I mutter and point at the picture of the sandwich that never quite does its constant delivery of joy proper justice). I order the only non-breakfast meal I have ordered from Whataburger in years, and go to my seat to eagerly, and then discontentedly. wait. Oh, that endless wait – the nervous staring into the open kitchen, the glancing at my order number nervously, the drumming of my fingers of the table – it’s never-ending. But it does eventually end, and I stare down, in awe more than anything else, as my food is placed before me.

I sometimes feel a tinge of sadness brush up against my joy as I eat this shining example of rare fast food dreams and possibility. The sadness stems from an unalterable truth – the Honey BBQ Chicken Strip Sandwich on Texas Toast has no hope of ever enjoying me to the same level that I enjoy it. It can’t speak to me as it’s all too quickly devoured and digested in the confines of my bacon-filled stomach. The sandwich likely does not understand my appreciation of its greatness, and that unevenness ever so slightly haunts each bite.

But all of that can be overcome, because ultimately, this is one of the greatest food items commonly available for purchase in these United States. I don’t know what barbecue sauce Whataburger is putting in these things, but it’s absolutely unbelievable, and the perfect complement to the chicken strips that wait within the two pieces of bread. The sandwich is a centerpiece for a simple combination – chicken, barbecue sauce, cheese, and bread – but it’s so filling and balanced that the four components make each individual part better and more noticeable. The chicken strips consume your taste buds, but only reach greatness because of the flavor-adding BBQ sauce and the texture-adding Texas Toast*.

*Important Note To First-Time Eaters Of This Sandwich: The Texas Toast is absolutely vital. It’s far better than the bun on its own, and worlds better as part of the sandwich. A hamburger bun just doesn’t work in this context. I still have respect for hamburger buns, though. Don’t get me wrong. 

There is nothing diffused about the HBCSSTT; it is nothing if not concentrated taste. Every bite is infused with as much or more understanding of life and transcendence than its predecessor. It’s a sandwich that will make you remember the simple things, and will bring you uncomplicated delight. It is a reprieve, and it may be as close to easily attainable fast food perfection as mankind will ever get.

Illustration by Mary Grace Ewald

This is the first Digital Refain podcast, but I’m calling it “Episode Zero” because that sounds cooler than “Episode One”, and it leaves us some room for improvement. That being said, I really enjoyed my discussion with Digital Refrain’s own Seth Bawl.

What did we talk about? I’d say “life”, but that’s not entirely true. Segments included “Overrated/Underrated”, which is self-explanatory, and “Yay or Nay”, which involved me reading movie synopses and Seth deciding whether he was intrigued. Other than that, Seth and I floated the “Channing Tatum as Mark Wahlberg 2.0 Theory” and discussed the inner workings of Portland’s donut scene, among other things.

I can certainly guarantee that the podcast will be much more interesting than this introduction, so listen, and know that improvement is always imminent.

Listen Here.

I arrived at the local Wendy’s with the same trademark resolve I’ve become famous for in my fast food-eating moments. My focus is always singular, at least to begin, and everyone in the restaurant knows it. I don’t come to Wendy’s for the conversation or the scenery, though I rarely find either of those things lacking. No, I come for the Baconator, the greatest fast food item in the entire industry, and one of the few lights shining in the bland darkness.

It’s difficult for me to remember a time in my life that didn’t involve the Baconator. Sometime in the late 2000′s, I first consumed a Baconator, and I was never the same. It is, by nearly every criteria, the perfect fast food burger. It has bacon. It has cheese that appears real enough, and a burger that tastes like genuine meat. It’s typically cooked well, and as with all burgers from Wendy’s, the meat is squarely shaped, making it appear comforting and ‘different’ than typical fast food fare. But the true strength of the Baconator lies in its ketchup-mayo combo sauce, a delicious flavoring that elevates it from the fast food version of Wes Anderson’s Rushmore to the more refined The Royal Tenenbaums.

My expectations for Thursday’s Baconator were unfairly high. It had been weeks since my last one, and the lore of it had grown and grown within the confined palette of my mind. I expected the best Baconator of my life, and as follows, the best meal of my life. I didn’t get that. Instead, I was given an average single Baconator meal with medium fries and a drink that I thoroughly enjoyed, but understood was imperfect.

That imperfection stemmed from my own flawed plans. For the first time since the Connor-Baconator inception, I had ordered a single patty Baconator. I had spat in the face of my own unhealthy history. I had tried to feel ‘healthy’ and only drink one soda. I wanted to be something I wasn’t, and it cost me my chance to go full Baconator.

What does the Baconator provide if the not the chance to grapple with your own soul in mortal metaphysical combat until you have achieved victory and can say, “I am a man who loves Baconators, and that is beautiful.” A delicious, probably unhealthy (I’ve never read the nutritional information in an effort to preserve my sanity) burger that stares you in the face and asks you to be yourself while you bite into its basic bun. I turned down that chance. Never again.

Illustration by Leif Seifert

by Connor Huchton and Brian Schroeder 

The Avengers has been in theaters for weeks, but it’s still attracting audiences in droves and our website has only just begun to live. Thus, we’ll talk about it now and ignore the passage of the Internet cycle. 

Huchton: So, let’s talk about The Avengers.

Schroeder: It was good. Everything a movie like that should aspire to be.

Huchton: Let’s make this clear before we get too into it: This conversation is going to have spoilers. If you want to read something without spoilers, I’d check out William Leitch’s review.

This movie is primarily a superhero action movie, but it’s also studies each character individually with varying depth, and Ruffalo’s work is an example of why that aspect of the movie works almost as well as the creatively shot action scenes.

Schroeder: In a similar vein, I really enjoyed where Robert Downey Jr’s version of Tony Stark went in this film. The first two Iron Man movies are primarily focused upon Tony Stark’s balance between success and just plain survival. Hell, a main plot point in the second one is his struggle to find a way to replace the reactor in his chest. To keep himself alive.

He even admits as much in a nice little conversation he has with Bruce Banner in that lab on the Helicarrier. I knew, as soon as Captain America accused him of not being the sort of guy who would sacrifice himself for his team, we would see some form of Tony ostensibly sacrificing himself in a climactic scene. We got two of them. The first when he willingly restarts the busted rotor, knowing that he could be killed while doing. Then the bit with the nuke at the end. What I didn’t see coming was the complete lack of any sort of “I knew you could do it” scene between him and Cap, which was nice.

Tony Stark is arguably the most human of the Avengers. He has no superpowers. He has no combat training. It really seemed, to me, that he was desperately trying to prove himself for the entire movie, which is certainly one of Iron Man’s defining character traits. The first film was him trying to prove himself to himself. The second was him trying to prove himself to his father (or at least the memory of his father). The third is him trying to prove himselfto the world. Basically, all I’m saying is that Joss Whedon somehow managed to fit the character development of an entire Iron Man film into this one. Impressive.

Huchton: Well said. I definitely enjoyed that Whedon took Iron Man in a different direction in this story, which was especially important given his status as the de facto, most widely known character for audiences. I think some of the strongest interactions in the movie were between he and Banner in the ship’s lab. It’s not a significant portion of the movie – just a few minutes – but their vaguely ordinary friendship gave a nice little reprieve to all of the angst between the other Avengers during the exposition. Sometimes, you just want to watch two scientist bros hang out and talk about things that sound scientist-y.

I liked that Iron Man tried to prove something to Captain America, but Whedon didn’t do the typical screenwriting thing and have Cap talk about how wrong he was in regards to Iron Man’s selfishness. Iron Man does something awesome, they move on with their business, and everybody is the better for it.

How did you feel about Hawkeye?

Schroeder: I thought it was a bit of a gamble to have Hawkeye, the one character audiences hadn’t seen yet, be a secondary antagonist throughout half the film. Was worried they wouldn’t like him when it came time for him to be a part of the team. I was wrong, though, for two reasons.

The first is that he doesn’t actually kill anyone important on the Helicarrier. The second is that Jeremy Renner is just so damned likable. As soon as he mentions putting an arrow in Loki’s eyesocket, I was like “oh, no shit? WELCOME ABOARD HAWK-BRO.”

All in all, I liked his portrayal. Wasn’t all that sure about him not having a costume. The rationale was to shoot for a more realistic version of the character. But then you have Captain America in full costume right next to him. I suppose he’ll have some form of that old purple Hawkeye costume in the inevitable sequel, considering now he’s a part of a superhero team as opposed to a military operative.

Huchton: Jeremy Renner’s facial expressions are kind of amazing. They’re compelling for no reason, and I don’t understand them. The way he stares forward thoughtfully makes me think he could have starred in CSI: Miami while simultaneously playing opposite of Daniel Day-Lewis.

What was something about the movie you didn’t like?

Schroeder: If there’s anything I can criticize, perhaps is the…broadness of some of the humor. I’d be lying if I said Christopher Nolan’s Batman films weren’t guilty of the same offense, though.

All in all, this is a hard movie to criticize. Joss Whedon is nothing if not a crowd pleaser. It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t try to be. Nearly everything it tried to do, it did. There’s something beautiful in that sort of efficiency.

Huchton: I still think the Green Lantern was funnier.

by Connor Huchton

How do you introduce a website when you can’t say exactly what it is or what it will be? I can tell you what I want it to be, and relate my hopes for its evolution and growth. I can explain how it’ll hopefully become a site about pop culture that delivers a creative, varying original voice all the way from the writers to the illustrators. I’d like to say it’s something different – and it certainly will be – but I don’t know how, other than to elaborate on the simple idea behind its genesis.

The idea behind Digital Refrain isn’t one that will shock or surprise. I wanted to start a pop culture site that emphasized creativity and depth over a mass of content. I hoped to create a reprieve from most entertainment writing through the collaboration of smart writers that recognized what mattered to them and cared about everything they wrote. When writing becomes a chore, a news release will suffice over a drudging quote and explanation, and that unavoidable moat is something I absolutely wanted to avoid. Digital Refrain will certainly be imperfect, but it won’t be bogged down in the frequent rehashing of the latest news. There are other sites that can do that better than we ever could, so we’ll stick to the rhythms of our own staccato drum more often that not. It may not make sense at times, but at least we’ll be the creators of our confusion.

This isn’t to say Digital Refrain won’t include some of the traditional aspects you’ve come to expect from pop culture entities online. We’ll have TV recaps, reviews of the latest movies, and even quick reaction articles when the mood strikes. The depth of the horizontal is just as important as that of the vertical, so every Digital Refrain piece isn’t going to stem from a place of long-winded, esoteric explanation. We’ll love writing articles that discuss the seminal works of a director like Paul Thomas Anderson, but we’ll also provide a Game of Thrones recap with the same zeal and enthusiasm as any deep-thinking exploration.

That enthusiasm, combined with the necessary knowledge to elevate it, is something that will set Digital Refrain apart from other sites. The writers and illustrators of Digital Refrain not only understand the subjects they’ll seek to illuminate – they care about them deeply. It’s that passion and intelligence that excite me so much about the possibility within the people that make up Digital Refrain. Content will be created, but only after careful inspection emanating from a determined place.

But this explanation isn’t what makes Digital Refrain compelling. It’s the work that will be created regarding interesting subjects, and that’s likely why you’ve visited this site on May 21st, the day of our launch, and coincidentally, “National Memo Day“. In the coming weeks and months, I’m confident that the staff of Digital Refrain will produce strong work ranging from funny to emotionally striking. And so I’d ask that you’d give Digital Refrain a chance to win your selective Internet viewing eye as the people involved grow and create, and perhaps fail and succeed. Today is not the day of our greatest triumph or dissipation, but it is a beginning, and something that stems from a place of potential and unlocked skill.

Digital Refrain may not live up to everything that I have written as it evolves and changes. But for now, I’d hope that you’d read more than the rest of this sentence and the next one. There are so many more words to come from Digital Refrain, and many of them will be much better than these.