An Initial Note on Scales

The 10-point scale has become a cultural convention in America. Film-makers seek the 9.5 critical review as avidly as crack-fiends seek a dime-bag (although I don't think the "dime" refers to the crack's quality). And, of course, most women would loved to be judged as 10s, though most would settle for an 8 or higher rating (luckily for those hovering between the 6 to 7.5 range, there are surprisingly inexpensive and efficient surgical procedures dedicated to scale-jumping; in effect, a few thousand dollars can earn a woman as many as 1.5 scale points worth of silicon, and thus happiness). Ironically, as much as we love the 10-point scale when evaluating fine art, or sport, or people's asses, we have refused to fully accept the Metric System. Why use three feet to make a yard when you can have 10 perfect 10s to make a meter?

The point is, here at the Exacerbater blog we take pride in recognizing and flowing with cultural conventions. We are no exception to the rule; this blog seeks to be a perfect 10, but will be satisfied with anything in the 9s range - an "A." This scale will be used for books, movies, and, maybe even an ass or two. For example, one night a University of Arkansas patrol officer pulled over this brown-skinned blogger for pulling out of a dorm parking lot. I had been making a call in my 1986 Chevy El Camino SS. Almost positive that I was being lawful, and extra-responsible at that, I asked him what I'd done. "Well, he said, you're lookin' kinda suspicious." I asked if he could elaborate. "Well," he said, "Soon as I pulled around that corner you kinda took off." "Are you going to write me a ticket, " I asked. He said no, and that I should be more mindful of my appearance. On the Ass-Scale, this man was at least 9.2.

For the record, I am not technically Mexican by descent, but I might as well be.

The final issue to address about the 10-point scale is its inherent relativity. One man's 10 is another man's 6.5. One man's 6.5 is another man's wife. If this has happened to you, be kind - taste in women is a slippery slope, and most of us will fail eventually if we haven't already...multiple times. Moving on, we can only make a claim about how this blog's 10-point scale will function, which claim will hopefully be corroborated in the future. We review film and literature very harshly here. The Godfather is not the best film I have ever watched. I cannot honestly tell you what is the best. Rather, film and literature should be evaluated on how successfully they achieve their individual aims. The Godfather sought to be the essential mafia film, and it is. From the opening film score to Brando's archetypal portrayal of the "the Don," the movie achieves an unmistakable effect that American audiences devour. We love vice - especially when its backed by a vague, family-oriented sense of moral structure. So why not give The Godfather a 9.5? Of course, the question then becomes, what the hell does a movie have to do to earn a 10? We have no idea here at the Exacerbater, but we know we have never seen it. Jurassic Park receives a 9.5 in this blog's review. Can it really be compared to The Godfather? No, and that is the point. Even the shittiest of low-budget films (or books) can potentially receive a 9.0 or higher rating, given that they acheive their proposed goal. Of course, all reviews are subject to the infamous "qualification," which in the some cases may be, "Trolls 2 receives a 9.1 in its category, which we suppose is the Evergreen Elementary PTA's attempt to make a G-rated horror film with a $100 budget."

In conclusion, we offer an alternative, expanded view on the concept of scale. At the Exacerbater, more will be covered than film- or book-reviews. We reserve to right to capture - and butcher - or glorify - any element of the human experience. You, the reader, if you exist, are no exception.