Stuff of the Decade

The cast of "Rent" asked the right question: How do you remember a year? Even crazier: How do you remember a decade? I feel obliged to write something retrospective in this last column of 2009, but I was 11 when this decade started. That makes my hindsight half-blind, unless the pinnacles of human civilization were "BattleBots" and "Chappelle's Show." And besides, retrospection makes me nervous.

I could make a Top 10 Films of the Decade list, but to me the whole film-ranking process has always seemed egocentric, reductive and kind of snotty. Two images pop into my head: the Vicodin-addicted stage mother who ranks her daughters according to BMI and facial symmetry, and the lonely Mr. Skin power-user who ranks Jennifer Connelly's topless scenes according to nipple lighting. (And puts "Once Upon a Time in America" as No. 1.)

I could also talk about a single person. This decade, Time famously gave Person of the Year to a shiny sheet of plastic, proving that the process has potential as both sophistry and avant-garde provocation. Again, I wouldn't call it fair — it's like Employee of the Month for the human species — but it's something to talk about for 15 minutes.

Or I could just throw out structure and go for random thoughts. Does that make me a post-structuralist? I don't know. It fits with my theory that "The Soup" (however terrible) is just about the only device we have that's honest about the way we file away pop-culture memories: in no particularly good order and for no particularly good reason. We are terribly organic creatures.

So, without further ado, here's some stuff of the decade.

Film: You know what was awesome? Nutty climaxes. When David Carradine (R.I.P.) takes a few leisurely steps and topples over after Uma Thurman administers the Five-Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique; when Daniel Day-Lewis yells "I'm finished!" in a bowling alley full of blood; when Tony Soprano looks up, ever so slightly, and the screen goes black.

What wasn't awesome: trilogies, aka sagas, aka franchises, aka the relentless trend toward entertainment obesity. "Lord of the Rings" may have been a lyrical 10 hours, but you'd be hard-pressed to say the same thing about the "Matrix" sequels. (This also applies to games, books and rap albums.)

Music: It'll be hard to forget Kanye West's carefully cultivated egomania, but it'll be even harder to forget "The College Dropout."

Internet success stories: Like Conrad Hilton, YouTube built an empire and a world-changing concept out of sweat and pure ambition. Like Paris Hilton, Twitter was born into golden spotlight.

People: Sarah Palin and Steve Jobs. The former inspired our anger; the latter gave us the proper tools to be angry with.

Horrible things: Sept. 11, Katrina, the economic crisis, neo-conservatism, neo-imperialism, bigotry, punditry, torture, tea parties, slumber parties, the war in Iraq, the war in Afghanistan, the War on Terror and the War on Christmas.

Wonderful things: cell phones everywhere, Google Maps, red velvet cupcakes, Rock Band, gay marriage and XTube.

In sum, Japanese Internet sensation Maru: every obscure creature, character, moment or idea that wriggled its way into the boxes of our hearts thanks to a democratized media and a flattening world.

Matt Margini is Pretentiousaurus.