October 01, 2003
And a goodie before I
And a goodie before I go to bed. When Hitch is pissed, it's a fairly
obvious thing. The vial of vitriol comes out of his pocket, he pitches
it like Roger Clemens' fastball, and generally his aim is dead on. Now,
I like Hitch. He's a good writer and nothing is going to make him pull
his punches. This is the man who while all the other reporters were
saying Bill Clinton was an alleged sexual harrasser and a potential adulterer,
called Bubba a rapist. This is the guy who wrote something rather nasty
about the Queen Mum's incontinence issues which I will not repeat here.
This is the guy who hates the Monarchy in England with a distinct
passion. This is the guy who's ripped people to shreds time and time
again. But no one seems to raise his ire more than Mother Theresa. I
knew with her beatification yesterday it was just a matter of time
before he threw out his two cents. Read this.
While I don't agree with him (his whole argument was completely
revulsive to me at one point in time) I can see where he's got a point
about her. I also find it interesting that the Vatican interviewed him,
of all people, about her beatification. I would have just loved
to be a fly on the wall during that conversation.
obvious thing. The vial of vitriol comes out of his pocket, he pitches
it like Roger Clemens' fastball, and generally his aim is dead on. Now,
I like Hitch. He's a good writer and nothing is going to make him pull
his punches. This is the man who while all the other reporters were
saying Bill Clinton was an alleged sexual harrasser and a potential adulterer,
called Bubba a rapist. This is the guy who wrote something rather nasty
about the Queen Mum's incontinence issues which I will not repeat here.
This is the guy who hates the Monarchy in England with a distinct
passion. This is the guy who's ripped people to shreds time and time
again. But no one seems to raise his ire more than Mother Theresa. I
knew with her beatification yesterday it was just a matter of time
before he threw out his two cents. Read this.
While I don't agree with him (his whole argument was completely
revulsive to me at one point in time) I can see where he's got a point
about her. I also find it interesting that the Vatican interviewed him,
of all people, about her beatification. I would have just loved
to be a fly on the wall during that conversation.
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Ok, this next bit is
Ok, this next bit is perplexing me a bit. I want to publish it, but
I̢۪m afraid I will jeopardize a dear friend̢۪s standing in his
community by doing so. I don̢۪t want to make myself out to be Ben
Bradlee or anyone like that, but for the first time in my life I can
honestly understand the conundrums editors face when deciding whether
or not to publish something. It̢۪s relatively big. And that̢۪s the
problem. This is not a big website: it̢۪s just me here, spouting off,
but it seems as if an offhand inquiry about a story I linked to last
week has produced something really rather remarkable. And it̢۪s
informative. And it̢۪s making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I̢۪m not an editor; I̢۪m not a reporter. I̢۪m just someone with a
webpage and the inclination to write stuff down and shoot it out into
that vast void known as the World Wide Web.
Sigh. I am making a mountain out of a molehill again. I̢۪m going to
obscure the people involved: the dear friend has also given permission
to print his email, so technically, I shouldn̢۪t be fretting. I will
also give you some history as to the correspondent who produced this
and let you make your own judgment about it. That̢۪s all I really can
do, isn̢۪t it? I̢۪m trusting you to be responsible people about this.
I want this out there because I think it shows some seriously
remarkable things we haven̢۪t heard anything about. Ok, Catholic
crisis of conscience over with. Time to give you some history about the
correspondent. A. is someone the husband has known for going on five
years now. They have a tumultuous history, but he̢۪s a pretty good guy
on the whole. I̢۪ve mentioned before that the husband spent a goodly
amount of time in Kuwait in the past. He was in Kuwait for almost six
months, working on an IT consulting project for an Islamic finance
house (bank). A. was the man who brought the husband to Kuwait. They
had a year long falling out as a result of unpaid bills and slurs
dropped on the husband̢۪s doorstep, but amazingly enough, 9/11 did
bring some good about. The husband and A., while business partners, had
also formed a very tight friendship that had suffered as a result of
the nastiness. 9/11 brought phone calls and emails from Kuwait;
messages that conveyed how very sorry A. was that this had happened to
our country; that he felt for us; that if there was anything he could
do to please let him know. The friendship between A. and the husband
became a solid entity again, and for that we were glad: it̢۪s good to
know that something good can come out of something so horrible. It
should be mentioned that A. holds a doctorate, is a devout Muslim, has
a lovely family, and on the whole is a very good man. He was also taken
captive during the early days of the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait and was
held prisoner for the duration of the war. He has no love for Saddam
Hussein and was very glad that the coalition came in to rid the
Kuwaitis of this problem once and for all. We may not have thought much
about the fact Saddam rolled right over that border once, and might do
it again: westerners seemed to dismiss that possibility. However, the
Kuwaitis never did. They knew
it could happen again and it worried them. They were thankful that they
had the strong arms of America to provide deterrence. Whenever I
worried about the husband---a white American male---living in the
Middle East, he always dismissed my concerns with a “The Kuwaitis
love Americans, Kath. Don’t worry. There’s no reason to.†And the
husband meant it: he wasn̢۪t downplaying the threat or
exaggerating the support of the average Kuwaiti: there was no threat
because the Kuwaitis really were grateful---and had no reservations
about showing it. A. is one of those Kuwaitis. He loves his country,
but he is also grateful the US came and beat Saddam back.
A rudimentary, non-textbook comparative government lesson is somewhat
in order to understand why some of this is big news. Kuwait is a small
country and according to A. is ruled by five families, and the Al
Sabah̢۪s---the Emir and his sons---aren̢۪t one of them. They̢۪re
dictated to by the five families---sort of the way the New York mafia
families laid down the law back in the day before the RICO statutes.
Politicians don̢۪t work their way up: they̢۪re placed strategically,
like pawns on a chessboard. Everything̢۪s done under the table, while
the shisha smokes on in the background: they barely know the meaning of
the word “transparencyâ€. While Kuwait is better than some other
Gulf countries as far as the liberalness of its policies, it̢۪s still
very much the same in some regards. A. knows this and works the system
in his favor, but he has mentioned to the husband that he would like
the system to change as he̢۪s no great fan of it: he knows it could be
better. Last week, when we saw the Hindustan Times article (the link
is dead, I̢۪ll reprint the article below), and because it was so vague
I asked the husband, “I wonder if A. has any more information about
this?†The husband asked, and sure enough A. did: he’s very well
connected. Little did I know, though, when we asked, that A. would take
supper with a governmental official, present the Hindustan Times article to the official and have it confirmed
for us. He also found out some very interesting information that while
I have no way of confirming it, I suspect, just by knowing A., that
it̢۪s also true. Some of it is very disturbing. Here̢۪s the article
that started it all off: Kuwait foils smuggling of chemicals, bio warheads from Iraq
Associated Press
Kuwait City, October 2 Kuwaiti security authorities have foiled an
attempt to smuggle $60 million worth of chemical weapons and biological
warheads from Iraq to an unnamed European country, a Kuwaiti newspaper
said on Wednesday. The pro-Government Al-Siyassah, quoting an unnamed
security source, said the suspects had been watched by security since
they arrived in Kuwait and were arrested "in due time." It did not say
when or how the smugglers entered Kuwait or when they were arrested.
The paper said the smugglers might have had accomplices inside Kuwait.
It said Interior Minister Sheik Nawwaf Al Ahmed Al Sabah would hand
over the smuggled weapons to an FBI agent at a news conference, but did
not say when.
Government officials could not be immediately reached for comment.
Iraqi Interior Minister Nouri Al-Badran met on Tuesday with Sheik
Nawwaf and discussed cooperation between the two countries in security
matters. His visit is the first by an Iraqi interior minister to
Kuwait.
Without further ado, here̢۪s the e-mail that A. sent the husband. Keep
in mind when reading it, that while A. is a very bright man, he̢۪s not
a native English speaker, so there are idiomatic, spelling and grammar
errors, but he does manage to get the overall point across, even if he
is overly fond of exclamation points. “Bottom line I presented the newspaper clip (printed it out of
the web). And to my astonishment he acknowledged it!! And not only had
that he gone further than that by telling me some details that
instantaneously rose my body hair! Goodness what's going on to this
poor world of ours! Let me give you a kind of fish-eye look to what's
going on behind the scene and tightly monitored and controlled by the
major league players (governments those are!): I. Kuwait territory: a.
Ever since Saddam troops were kicked outside of Kuwait 1991, there have
been so many discoveries of stocks of chemical weapons here and there
but mostly in the desert. Most were professionally stored and packed in
a way that they would not be self-destroyed by any chance including
extreme weather conditions. Approximately 70% was found, fetched out,
and dealt with. Yet, there are still some places undiscovered due to
some Iraqi documents found during the liberation period and numerous
documents found during the fall out of the Iraqi regime. Most of those
documentations were stating amounts, quantities and territorial
coverage, but not actual storage locations nor they pin point there
stocking procedures! I.e. underground dirt cover, bunker cover, water
snuck, not even residential or commercial storages. (All those
mentioned above were locations that were mostly discovered accidentally
by civilians!)
b. After the liberation of Kuwait, the US forces (in particular) used
the northern area of Kuwait as a waste land for their depleted uranium
shells! And there were some unused Coalition counter-chemical warfare
artilleries that need to be destroyed before they erode their
containers or expire beyond their usage period. Guess where would be
the place "politically" that would be considered as ideal location
where you would "dump" such material with a very strict hush-hush
policy from a government that would do anything in return of the favor
of restoring it back in power?
c. one of the amazing untold stories is that the Iraqis indeed used
chemical weapons against allied forces in 1990/1991, as well as against
northern part of Kuwaiti city of Jahra!! But the unprecedented heavy
rain during that period of usage eliminated any direct casualties from
such attack! Yet this does not mean the northern part is not
contaminated! Indeed it is suffering now from all sorts of "illnesses"
environmentally the least to say. including medical reports have shown
that in the past 10 years reflected serious escalation in birth defects
and miss carriages along with a scary %700 higher than Central and
south Kuwait areas in cancer cases!
d. it turns to be the northern part of Kuwait (adjacent to Iraqi
boarders) is an actual dump site for radio active, hazardous chemical,
dangerous biochemical, and other dangerous materials. All due a
specific clause in the agreement between the US and Kuwaiti governments
as one of the major conditions to allow the US to "help" and lead the
coalitions to liberate Kuwait (as per any contractual agreement!). Of
course there is a strict level of security clearance and political
rendezvous!
e. the situation with the Iraqi boarders after the fall of the Saddam
"empire" was and still is nether less than chaotic! No control what so
ever on the borders where you see a daily smugglers of all kinds
starting from smuggling people to some actual smuggling of Iraqi T-70
tanks as collectables (for God knows who!). The only thing that is
really effectively controlling this smuggling is the size of Kuwait
geographical area. This pushed Kuwait Government to quadruple the
national security budget. this action resulted in having an aerial
surveillance choppers, muscle dirt police cars, high speed boats all
with a serious fire power along with each unit having its own
self-assessment control on fire-on-well ability!. All limited to the
northern area beyond Jahra city. Those activities are never in the
front cover page because of the strict orders of "NO SHOW OFF!" scheme
that is imposed. To me they have done an outstanding job in keeping
Kuwait territory almost to pre-1990 level in crime rate, yet the normal
Kuwait city resident is barely noticing it! Amazing efforts to
knowledge that is uplifting my pride. Yet, such measures are still to
be perfected once we know that there are so many opportunities that are
waiting to take the advantage of anything even if it is a war head to
be traded with. Hence, its an international problem---not only in
Kuwait--- so I take it for granted that what ever was mentioned on that
article is fact that is applicable anywhere.
f. Kuwait EPA is facing a tremendous pressure just to ease on its
environmental "watch dog" like operations. All due to the real damage
that the coalition had made to the natural habitat to the environment
by following the political mandates of the coalition lead (US) and by
the other secret treaties that were signed without any trace other that
the after math! That is allowing such damages happens "politically"
under the magical wand of "National Security Priorities"
II. outside Kuwait territory:
a. I personally was seriously totally taken off guard by so many
statements that almost made me convinced that this "extremely highly
educated", from a very seriously involved in politics family as a
lineage, very involved in almost every agency in Kuwait, and a pro
Kuwaiti-nationalism hard-liner, he seemed to me like a Bin Laden
Advocate!!!!!!
So, let̢۪s take this point by point. a. This confirms what the US, UK
and even that most beloved of organizations, the UN, have said all
along. If the rough estimate is they̢۪ve found 70%, there are still
30% out there: we will find them. But as A. said, most of what they
have found was due to civilians tripping over them. Time is what̢۪s
needed hereâ€Â¦and some roaming around in the desert, as well. b. Not
really all that surprising, although, it is important to note the
status of a government that would allow such a thingâ€Â¦just to get back
in power. c. I̢۪m honestly willing to take A.̢۪s word on this one. I
did some searching and came up with zip. NY Times, London Times, Washington Post, the Telegraph, CNN.
I checked the big dogs and I couldn̢۪t find anything about this.
Although, I did do a Google search for “Jafra and Chemical
Weapons,†andâ€Â¦wow. A lot of links to service people’s testimony
to Congress regarding Gulf War Syndrome popped up. I think we can add 2
and 2 and successfully come up with 4. If the cancer rates are that
high, and it bears out that the US Government stonewalled on this one,
well. Let̢۪s just say that whoever̢۪s in power at that point in time
will have issuesâ€Â¦serious issues. I’m not an expert by any means on Gulf War Syndrome, but it seems fishy to me.
d. If nothing else, that ought to keep the Iraqis from going over the border again, shouldn̢۪t it?
e. A quadrupling
of the Kuwaiti national security budget? Crikeys. That̢۪s a lot of
cash. No cheapola Russian made dune buggies for the Kuwaitis: I
guarantee Mercedes or Hummer made them. This is actually quite
disturbing and I think A.̢۪s trying to keep a sense of national pride
here, actually, and puts a positive spin on the matter. I can̢۪t
really blame him: if people were so bold as to bust through the
Minnesota borders and haul a shipment of tanks right up I-35 to Duluth
(our only port) so they could ship them overseas, I̢۪d want to put a
positive spin on it, too. Look at what we̢۪re spending; look at who we̢۪ve actually caught,
when he fully admits that the only thing that̢۪s keeping somewhat of a
wrap on the smuggling is Kuwait̢۪s size, yet the average Kuwait City
citizen is barely noticing it. f. The Kuwaiti EPA will, undoubtedly,
keep its collective mouth shut. But for how long? All of these points
have raised my eyebrows, but it signals me to look to the big picture
of Kuwaiti attitudes. I think the Kuwaitis have just about had it with
the US. If the US, like A. claims, is dumping depleted uranium shells,
counter chemical warfare agents and the like in the northern
desert---an area that has the potential to be more than just a DMZ in
the coming years---with the full-fledged approval of a puppet
government, who is rearming itself to deal with the current smuggling
problems, and if IIa is true---that a major Kuwaiti governmental
official sounded to A. like a Bin Laden advocate---the US̢۪s close
friendship with the country of Kuwait might be coming to a close. The
beneficial relationship is in the waning stages. Kuwait and the US have
been using one another for years now. I believe the US may have crossed
a line, though, that it will very hard to pull its big toe back from.
In other words, the US might be taking more than it̢۪s giving and it
will give the Kuwaitis a justification for ending the friendship. I
honestly don̢۪t know: it̢۪s all relative. While I would argue that
Kuwait has benefited more from US protection than it has been harmed,
some would probably argue there was never a debt to be repaid in the
first place. The husband has said in the past that while it never hit
the papers, he heard rumors while he was in Kuwait---from very well
connected friends---that, after the dust had settled, the US was handed
a check from the Kuwaiti government for the cost of Operation Desert
Storm. Thanks for saving our behinds, and this should cover it. However, this notion belies the fact that the US doesn̢۪t really need
Kuwaiti money. They can finance operations out of their own budget:
debts of the non-fiscal type are the more important chits to hold.
But Saddam is gone now. The paradigm has shifted, the chit has lost
value, and for the US government to turn a blind eye, to assume that
Kuwait will forever and always be one of their closest allies in the
Gulf, for me at least, is reminiscent to Iran in 1979: a powder keg
that̢۪s just waiting to blow. Let me explain. While Kuwait is a
moderate Islamic country, and most Kuwaitis natives are highly educated
and hold more liberal attitudes than those in neighboring states,
Kuwaitis are now outnumbered by foreigners in their own land. The
majority of the population is made up of immigrant workers from such
places as Egypt, Iran, Pakistan, Palestine, the Philippines, and other,
poorer, Gulf states such as Oman and Yemen: the places we all know and
love as a breeding ground for Islamic terrorism. They run the shops;
they clean the offices; they act as security guards; they drive the
taxis; they keep the service industries going. And all because the
average native Kuwaiti is too well-educated to do this type of work.
While they do the work, and, for the most part, are happy to have it,
they also see the corruption in the government. They see the rich
driving their Rollers, Mercedes, Bentleys and the like down the street,
while it̢۪s obvious they will never have the opportunity to earn such
a fabulous car because of who they are. They see the fancy yachts
parked at the local mall. And, most importantly, they are sneered and
jibed at by Kuwaitis, who see them as beneath them. I laugh heartily
whenever I see some idiotic commentator on TV state that because people
are Islamic, they will rise up and support their Islamic brethren, no
matter what their nationality, whenever a massive offence is committed
or might be. Nothing could be further than the truth: think of an
Irishman and an Italian: are they united under the same brotherhood
simply because they̢۪re both Catholic? Not hardly. The Gulf Arabs are
snobs, to put it simply, and Kuwaitis are no exception to this rule.
They look down their noses at anyone---even someone who follows Allah
as they do-- who is not from the Gulf. It̢۪s particularly ironic when
you take into account how many the Gulf states bleat on about the
treatment of the Palestinians at the hands of the
Israelis---particularly using this as an effective dodge to keep their
own people distracted from the fact they have no democratic
rights---when they wouldn̢۪t even allow most Palestinians in their own
countries because they think of them as dirty peasants. This is nothing
new, obviously, but in Kuwait, where the numbers of non-nationals
outstrip the nationals, it̢۪s still has a wee bit of shock value if
for no other reason than it seems as if anti-US sentiment is gaining
favor. Could it be, perhaps, that Kuwaitis are paying more attention to
their coffee bearers̢۪ opinions than those of the government? Could
attitudes be shifting to a point where the more conservative and,
ironically, radical teachings of Islam might gain favor amongst the
westernized Kuwaitis? After all, if what A. says is true, the US
doesn̢۪t seem to be earning any brownie points right about now,
leaving a swing to the right still in the realm of possibilities for
Kuwait. Iran, after all, had plenty of foreign workers before 1979;
plenty of them were just as instrumental in bringing the Shah down as
the native sons and daughters were. I don̢۪t know. You can̢۪t find a
more liberalized Gulf nation than Kuwait. Women are not obliged to veil
themselves, but most do anyway. It̢۪s not unusual to see teenage girls
there wearing a shirt that shows off their bellies, while still
covering their head with a chador as they listen to Britney Spears on
their Walkmans. Yet the country stands still, five times a day, when
the muezzin sounds, calling the faithful to worship. Kuwait is a highly
interesting mix of the secular swirling with the faithful. But some
would have said that about Iran, too, in the years preceding the
revolution. The bottom line where Kuwait is concerned is that you have
a government with dubious prospects in power; a government that is
rearming itself to pre-1990 standards and who is grumbling at its best
friend and biggest patron because it no longer needs their patronage; a
dissatisfied populace, who would like more of a say in what is going
on; a population where non-nationals outnumber natives; where the
non-natives are treated with disfavor and favor the type of Islam that
means serious business. It seems to me that you have a powder keg with
a very long fuse attached to it.
When someone will strike a match and attach it to the fuse is
anybody̢۪s guess.
I̢۪m afraid I will jeopardize a dear friend̢۪s standing in his
community by doing so. I don̢۪t want to make myself out to be Ben
Bradlee or anyone like that, but for the first time in my life I can
honestly understand the conundrums editors face when deciding whether
or not to publish something. It̢۪s relatively big. And that̢۪s the
problem. This is not a big website: it̢۪s just me here, spouting off,
but it seems as if an offhand inquiry about a story I linked to last
week has produced something really rather remarkable. And it̢۪s
informative. And it̢۪s making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I̢۪m not an editor; I̢۪m not a reporter. I̢۪m just someone with a
webpage and the inclination to write stuff down and shoot it out into
that vast void known as the World Wide Web.
Sigh. I am making a mountain out of a molehill again. I̢۪m going to
obscure the people involved: the dear friend has also given permission
to print his email, so technically, I shouldn̢۪t be fretting. I will
also give you some history as to the correspondent who produced this
and let you make your own judgment about it. That̢۪s all I really can
do, isn̢۪t it? I̢۪m trusting you to be responsible people about this.
I want this out there because I think it shows some seriously
remarkable things we haven̢۪t heard anything about. Ok, Catholic
crisis of conscience over with. Time to give you some history about the
correspondent. A. is someone the husband has known for going on five
years now. They have a tumultuous history, but he̢۪s a pretty good guy
on the whole. I̢۪ve mentioned before that the husband spent a goodly
amount of time in Kuwait in the past. He was in Kuwait for almost six
months, working on an IT consulting project for an Islamic finance
house (bank). A. was the man who brought the husband to Kuwait. They
had a year long falling out as a result of unpaid bills and slurs
dropped on the husband̢۪s doorstep, but amazingly enough, 9/11 did
bring some good about. The husband and A., while business partners, had
also formed a very tight friendship that had suffered as a result of
the nastiness. 9/11 brought phone calls and emails from Kuwait;
messages that conveyed how very sorry A. was that this had happened to
our country; that he felt for us; that if there was anything he could
do to please let him know. The friendship between A. and the husband
became a solid entity again, and for that we were glad: it̢۪s good to
know that something good can come out of something so horrible. It
should be mentioned that A. holds a doctorate, is a devout Muslim, has
a lovely family, and on the whole is a very good man. He was also taken
captive during the early days of the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait and was
held prisoner for the duration of the war. He has no love for Saddam
Hussein and was very glad that the coalition came in to rid the
Kuwaitis of this problem once and for all. We may not have thought much
about the fact Saddam rolled right over that border once, and might do
it again: westerners seemed to dismiss that possibility. However, the
Kuwaitis never did. They knew
it could happen again and it worried them. They were thankful that they
had the strong arms of America to provide deterrence. Whenever I
worried about the husband---a white American male---living in the
Middle East, he always dismissed my concerns with a “The Kuwaitis
love Americans, Kath. Don’t worry. There’s no reason to.†And the
husband meant it: he wasn̢۪t downplaying the threat or
exaggerating the support of the average Kuwaiti: there was no threat
because the Kuwaitis really were grateful---and had no reservations
about showing it. A. is one of those Kuwaitis. He loves his country,
but he is also grateful the US came and beat Saddam back.
A rudimentary, non-textbook comparative government lesson is somewhat
in order to understand why some of this is big news. Kuwait is a small
country and according to A. is ruled by five families, and the Al
Sabah̢۪s---the Emir and his sons---aren̢۪t one of them. They̢۪re
dictated to by the five families---sort of the way the New York mafia
families laid down the law back in the day before the RICO statutes.
Politicians don̢۪t work their way up: they̢۪re placed strategically,
like pawns on a chessboard. Everything̢۪s done under the table, while
the shisha smokes on in the background: they barely know the meaning of
the word “transparencyâ€. While Kuwait is better than some other
Gulf countries as far as the liberalness of its policies, it̢۪s still
very much the same in some regards. A. knows this and works the system
in his favor, but he has mentioned to the husband that he would like
the system to change as he̢۪s no great fan of it: he knows it could be
better. Last week, when we saw the Hindustan Times article (the link
is dead, I̢۪ll reprint the article below), and because it was so vague
I asked the husband, “I wonder if A. has any more information about
this?†The husband asked, and sure enough A. did: he’s very well
connected. Little did I know, though, when we asked, that A. would take
supper with a governmental official, present the Hindustan Times article to the official and have it confirmed
for us. He also found out some very interesting information that while
I have no way of confirming it, I suspect, just by knowing A., that
it̢۪s also true. Some of it is very disturbing. Here̢۪s the article
that started it all off: Kuwait foils smuggling of chemicals, bio warheads from Iraq
Associated Press
Kuwait City, October 2 Kuwaiti security authorities have foiled an
attempt to smuggle $60 million worth of chemical weapons and biological
warheads from Iraq to an unnamed European country, a Kuwaiti newspaper
said on Wednesday. The pro-Government Al-Siyassah, quoting an unnamed
security source, said the suspects had been watched by security since
they arrived in Kuwait and were arrested "in due time." It did not say
when or how the smugglers entered Kuwait or when they were arrested.
The paper said the smugglers might have had accomplices inside Kuwait.
It said Interior Minister Sheik Nawwaf Al Ahmed Al Sabah would hand
over the smuggled weapons to an FBI agent at a news conference, but did
not say when.
Government officials could not be immediately reached for comment.
Iraqi Interior Minister Nouri Al-Badran met on Tuesday with Sheik
Nawwaf and discussed cooperation between the two countries in security
matters. His visit is the first by an Iraqi interior minister to
Kuwait.
Without further ado, here̢۪s the e-mail that A. sent the husband. Keep
in mind when reading it, that while A. is a very bright man, he̢۪s not
a native English speaker, so there are idiomatic, spelling and grammar
errors, but he does manage to get the overall point across, even if he
is overly fond of exclamation points. “Bottom line I presented the newspaper clip (printed it out of
the web). And to my astonishment he acknowledged it!! And not only had
that he gone further than that by telling me some details that
instantaneously rose my body hair! Goodness what's going on to this
poor world of ours! Let me give you a kind of fish-eye look to what's
going on behind the scene and tightly monitored and controlled by the
major league players (governments those are!): I. Kuwait territory: a.
Ever since Saddam troops were kicked outside of Kuwait 1991, there have
been so many discoveries of stocks of chemical weapons here and there
but mostly in the desert. Most were professionally stored and packed in
a way that they would not be self-destroyed by any chance including
extreme weather conditions. Approximately 70% was found, fetched out,
and dealt with. Yet, there are still some places undiscovered due to
some Iraqi documents found during the liberation period and numerous
documents found during the fall out of the Iraqi regime. Most of those
documentations were stating amounts, quantities and territorial
coverage, but not actual storage locations nor they pin point there
stocking procedures! I.e. underground dirt cover, bunker cover, water
snuck, not even residential or commercial storages. (All those
mentioned above were locations that were mostly discovered accidentally
by civilians!)
b. After the liberation of Kuwait, the US forces (in particular) used
the northern area of Kuwait as a waste land for their depleted uranium
shells! And there were some unused Coalition counter-chemical warfare
artilleries that need to be destroyed before they erode their
containers or expire beyond their usage period. Guess where would be
the place "politically" that would be considered as ideal location
where you would "dump" such material with a very strict hush-hush
policy from a government that would do anything in return of the favor
of restoring it back in power?
c. one of the amazing untold stories is that the Iraqis indeed used
chemical weapons against allied forces in 1990/1991, as well as against
northern part of Kuwaiti city of Jahra!! But the unprecedented heavy
rain during that period of usage eliminated any direct casualties from
such attack! Yet this does not mean the northern part is not
contaminated! Indeed it is suffering now from all sorts of "illnesses"
environmentally the least to say. including medical reports have shown
that in the past 10 years reflected serious escalation in birth defects
and miss carriages along with a scary %700 higher than Central and
south Kuwait areas in cancer cases!
d. it turns to be the northern part of Kuwait (adjacent to Iraqi
boarders) is an actual dump site for radio active, hazardous chemical,
dangerous biochemical, and other dangerous materials. All due a
specific clause in the agreement between the US and Kuwaiti governments
as one of the major conditions to allow the US to "help" and lead the
coalitions to liberate Kuwait (as per any contractual agreement!). Of
course there is a strict level of security clearance and political
rendezvous!
e. the situation with the Iraqi boarders after the fall of the Saddam
"empire" was and still is nether less than chaotic! No control what so
ever on the borders where you see a daily smugglers of all kinds
starting from smuggling people to some actual smuggling of Iraqi T-70
tanks as collectables (for God knows who!). The only thing that is
really effectively controlling this smuggling is the size of Kuwait
geographical area. This pushed Kuwait Government to quadruple the
national security budget. this action resulted in having an aerial
surveillance choppers, muscle dirt police cars, high speed boats all
with a serious fire power along with each unit having its own
self-assessment control on fire-on-well ability!. All limited to the
northern area beyond Jahra city. Those activities are never in the
front cover page because of the strict orders of "NO SHOW OFF!" scheme
that is imposed. To me they have done an outstanding job in keeping
Kuwait territory almost to pre-1990 level in crime rate, yet the normal
Kuwait city resident is barely noticing it! Amazing efforts to
knowledge that is uplifting my pride. Yet, such measures are still to
be perfected once we know that there are so many opportunities that are
waiting to take the advantage of anything even if it is a war head to
be traded with. Hence, its an international problem---not only in
Kuwait--- so I take it for granted that what ever was mentioned on that
article is fact that is applicable anywhere.
f. Kuwait EPA is facing a tremendous pressure just to ease on its
environmental "watch dog" like operations. All due to the real damage
that the coalition had made to the natural habitat to the environment
by following the political mandates of the coalition lead (US) and by
the other secret treaties that were signed without any trace other that
the after math! That is allowing such damages happens "politically"
under the magical wand of "National Security Priorities"
II. outside Kuwait territory:
a. I personally was seriously totally taken off guard by so many
statements that almost made me convinced that this "extremely highly
educated", from a very seriously involved in politics family as a
lineage, very involved in almost every agency in Kuwait, and a pro
Kuwaiti-nationalism hard-liner, he seemed to me like a Bin Laden
Advocate!!!!!!
So, let̢۪s take this point by point. a. This confirms what the US, UK
and even that most beloved of organizations, the UN, have said all
along. If the rough estimate is they̢۪ve found 70%, there are still
30% out there: we will find them. But as A. said, most of what they
have found was due to civilians tripping over them. Time is what̢۪s
needed hereâ€Â¦and some roaming around in the desert, as well. b. Not
really all that surprising, although, it is important to note the
status of a government that would allow such a thingâ€Â¦just to get back
in power. c. I̢۪m honestly willing to take A.̢۪s word on this one. I
did some searching and came up with zip. NY Times, London Times, Washington Post, the Telegraph, CNN.
I checked the big dogs and I couldn̢۪t find anything about this.
Although, I did do a Google search for “Jafra and Chemical
Weapons,†andâ€Â¦wow. A lot of links to service people’s testimony
to Congress regarding Gulf War Syndrome popped up. I think we can add 2
and 2 and successfully come up with 4. If the cancer rates are that
high, and it bears out that the US Government stonewalled on this one,
well. Let̢۪s just say that whoever̢۪s in power at that point in time
will have issuesâ€Â¦serious issues. I’m not an expert by any means on Gulf War Syndrome, but it seems fishy to me.
d. If nothing else, that ought to keep the Iraqis from going over the border again, shouldn̢۪t it?
e. A quadrupling
of the Kuwaiti national security budget? Crikeys. That̢۪s a lot of
cash. No cheapola Russian made dune buggies for the Kuwaitis: I
guarantee Mercedes or Hummer made them. This is actually quite
disturbing and I think A.̢۪s trying to keep a sense of national pride
here, actually, and puts a positive spin on the matter. I can̢۪t
really blame him: if people were so bold as to bust through the
Minnesota borders and haul a shipment of tanks right up I-35 to Duluth
(our only port) so they could ship them overseas, I̢۪d want to put a
positive spin on it, too. Look at what we̢۪re spending; look at who we̢۪ve actually caught,
when he fully admits that the only thing that̢۪s keeping somewhat of a
wrap on the smuggling is Kuwait̢۪s size, yet the average Kuwait City
citizen is barely noticing it. f. The Kuwaiti EPA will, undoubtedly,
keep its collective mouth shut. But for how long? All of these points
have raised my eyebrows, but it signals me to look to the big picture
of Kuwaiti attitudes. I think the Kuwaitis have just about had it with
the US. If the US, like A. claims, is dumping depleted uranium shells,
counter chemical warfare agents and the like in the northern
desert---an area that has the potential to be more than just a DMZ in
the coming years---with the full-fledged approval of a puppet
government, who is rearming itself to deal with the current smuggling
problems, and if IIa is true---that a major Kuwaiti governmental
official sounded to A. like a Bin Laden advocate---the US̢۪s close
friendship with the country of Kuwait might be coming to a close. The
beneficial relationship is in the waning stages. Kuwait and the US have
been using one another for years now. I believe the US may have crossed
a line, though, that it will very hard to pull its big toe back from.
In other words, the US might be taking more than it̢۪s giving and it
will give the Kuwaitis a justification for ending the friendship. I
honestly don̢۪t know: it̢۪s all relative. While I would argue that
Kuwait has benefited more from US protection than it has been harmed,
some would probably argue there was never a debt to be repaid in the
first place. The husband has said in the past that while it never hit
the papers, he heard rumors while he was in Kuwait---from very well
connected friends---that, after the dust had settled, the US was handed
a check from the Kuwaiti government for the cost of Operation Desert
Storm. Thanks for saving our behinds, and this should cover it. However, this notion belies the fact that the US doesn̢۪t really need
Kuwaiti money. They can finance operations out of their own budget:
debts of the non-fiscal type are the more important chits to hold.
But Saddam is gone now. The paradigm has shifted, the chit has lost
value, and for the US government to turn a blind eye, to assume that
Kuwait will forever and always be one of their closest allies in the
Gulf, for me at least, is reminiscent to Iran in 1979: a powder keg
that̢۪s just waiting to blow. Let me explain. While Kuwait is a
moderate Islamic country, and most Kuwaitis natives are highly educated
and hold more liberal attitudes than those in neighboring states,
Kuwaitis are now outnumbered by foreigners in their own land. The
majority of the population is made up of immigrant workers from such
places as Egypt, Iran, Pakistan, Palestine, the Philippines, and other,
poorer, Gulf states such as Oman and Yemen: the places we all know and
love as a breeding ground for Islamic terrorism. They run the shops;
they clean the offices; they act as security guards; they drive the
taxis; they keep the service industries going. And all because the
average native Kuwaiti is too well-educated to do this type of work.
While they do the work, and, for the most part, are happy to have it,
they also see the corruption in the government. They see the rich
driving their Rollers, Mercedes, Bentleys and the like down the street,
while it̢۪s obvious they will never have the opportunity to earn such
a fabulous car because of who they are. They see the fancy yachts
parked at the local mall. And, most importantly, they are sneered and
jibed at by Kuwaitis, who see them as beneath them. I laugh heartily
whenever I see some idiotic commentator on TV state that because people
are Islamic, they will rise up and support their Islamic brethren, no
matter what their nationality, whenever a massive offence is committed
or might be. Nothing could be further than the truth: think of an
Irishman and an Italian: are they united under the same brotherhood
simply because they̢۪re both Catholic? Not hardly. The Gulf Arabs are
snobs, to put it simply, and Kuwaitis are no exception to this rule.
They look down their noses at anyone---even someone who follows Allah
as they do-- who is not from the Gulf. It̢۪s particularly ironic when
you take into account how many the Gulf states bleat on about the
treatment of the Palestinians at the hands of the
Israelis---particularly using this as an effective dodge to keep their
own people distracted from the fact they have no democratic
rights---when they wouldn̢۪t even allow most Palestinians in their own
countries because they think of them as dirty peasants. This is nothing
new, obviously, but in Kuwait, where the numbers of non-nationals
outstrip the nationals, it̢۪s still has a wee bit of shock value if
for no other reason than it seems as if anti-US sentiment is gaining
favor. Could it be, perhaps, that Kuwaitis are paying more attention to
their coffee bearers̢۪ opinions than those of the government? Could
attitudes be shifting to a point where the more conservative and,
ironically, radical teachings of Islam might gain favor amongst the
westernized Kuwaitis? After all, if what A. says is true, the US
doesn̢۪t seem to be earning any brownie points right about now,
leaving a swing to the right still in the realm of possibilities for
Kuwait. Iran, after all, had plenty of foreign workers before 1979;
plenty of them were just as instrumental in bringing the Shah down as
the native sons and daughters were. I don̢۪t know. You can̢۪t find a
more liberalized Gulf nation than Kuwait. Women are not obliged to veil
themselves, but most do anyway. It̢۪s not unusual to see teenage girls
there wearing a shirt that shows off their bellies, while still
covering their head with a chador as they listen to Britney Spears on
their Walkmans. Yet the country stands still, five times a day, when
the muezzin sounds, calling the faithful to worship. Kuwait is a highly
interesting mix of the secular swirling with the faithful. But some
would have said that about Iran, too, in the years preceding the
revolution. The bottom line where Kuwait is concerned is that you have
a government with dubious prospects in power; a government that is
rearming itself to pre-1990 standards and who is grumbling at its best
friend and biggest patron because it no longer needs their patronage; a
dissatisfied populace, who would like more of a say in what is going
on; a population where non-nationals outnumber natives; where the
non-natives are treated with disfavor and favor the type of Islam that
means serious business. It seems to me that you have a powder keg with
a very long fuse attached to it.
When someone will strike a match and attach it to the fuse is
anybody̢۪s guess.
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--- Lileks rarely, if ever,
--- Lileks rarely, if ever, pisses me off. The last time he did was back in May, when he denounced Matrix: Reloaded.
I could, however, understand his complaints, grudgingly allowed him his
opinion while muttering to myself, “he just doesn’t get it,†and
moved on with my life. But today he hit my anger button. He really
hit it. I̢۪m livid. It̢۪s not like he̢۪s going to ever read this, so
I don̢۪t know why I̢۪m bothering to rip him a new one, but he needs
to be corrected and damnit, I̢۪m just the girl to do it. The only
other blogger I̢۪ve been reading longer than Lileks is Andrew
Sullivan. I was one of Sullivan̢۪s first readers, from way back in the
day when you could email Andrew and he̢۪d actually take the time to
answer back. I̢۪m choosy when it comes to blog reading: I don̢۪t
bookmark pages just because someone, at one time, had something amusing
on their blog: you have to earn my respect to get a bookmark, but when
you do, I̢۪m a loyal reader. I̢۪ll come back on a daily basis and
will voraciously devour whatever content you put out. Sullivan linked
Lileks one fine December day, I laughed my ass off and I̢۪ve been
coming back ever since. I live in the Twin Cities. I subscribe to the
Strib and I̢۪d honestly never made the connection between the
Backfence, which is Lileks̢۪ column in the Strib, and the Bleat until
one Sunday in January. I was thrilled. I was finding all sorts of
outlets to feed my new obsession with his writing. I like his outlook
on life. I like his opinions: they̢۪re generally consistent with my
worldview. I like the way he smithies his words. He makes me want to be
a better writer. He̢۪s brilliant, to put it simply. He̢۪s an
underrated writer who̢۪s been basking in obscurity for entirely too
long. I̢۪ve been of the opinion of late that when he hits it big,
I̢۪ll be able to brag that I̢۪ve been reading him forever.
But, all that aside, I particularly enjoy the fact he̢۪s not lazy: he
does not oversimplify issues for the sake of supporting the popular
rhetoric of the day. He produces worthwhile, thought-provoking
commentary.
For the most part. Today, however, I just have to wonder what the hell
he was thinking when he wrote this about Rumsfeld’s memo: “But in another respect, the memo gives you a sick sinking
feeling. Why do we need to be asking these questions now? Shouldn̢۪t
these things be obvious? And of course they are to Rumsfeld, but not to
many in the great immovable bureaucracy that apparently regards
national defense as a 9 to 5 job whose purpose is a pension, not the
survival of liberal democracy. You̢۪d like to think that everyone in
the Defense establishment has walked at a quicker pace in the last two
years. Taken shorter lunches. Cut to the chase. You̢۪d like to think
that from the janitor to the Joint Chiefs, the mood was simple to
describe: urgency.
You want to talk about what we can do when things seem urgent?
Remember: they built the Pentagon during the war. That̢۪s gearing up.
That̢۪s focus. At a congressional hearing on July 17, 1941, the
chairman of the House Subcommittee on Appropriations suggested that the
War Department might solve the problem of its scattered offices by
building, you know, one building. That was a Thursday. A request was
made for plans to be delivered to the War Department on Monday morning.
Tuesday morning the plans were presented to Congress; they were
approved by the House on July 28, and by the Senate two weeks later.
(Typical.) The bill authorizing construction was signed on August 25.
Construction began in September, 1941.
September 11, to be exact. Construction took sixteen months. So let̢۪s
make this the new standard for national defense: any change in the way
the Pentagon does business should take no longer than the time it took
to build the Pentagon itself.â€
{Calming breath. Exhale. Calming breath. Exhale.}
I̢۪ve mentioned before that my cousin is career military, but I never
really expanded on precisely what he did for the branch he belongs to,
which is the Army. D., until recently, was stationed at MacDill Air
Force Base in Tampa. Yes, that̢۪s right, kids, MacDill Air Force Base.
His e-mail address ended with .centcom.mil.
The CO he reported to directly was General Franks, and D. had one star
on his shoulder at the time. He now has two and you will address him,
please, as Major General. He is now stationed at the Pentagon. D. is a
brilliant guy, and I say this with no bias whatsoever. I̢۪d think him
brilliant if I just happened to meet him on the street and struck up a
conversation with him. The fact our mothers were sisters bears no
weight. He was encouraged early on by his father to join ROTC at
college as a way of easing the financial burden; D. liked the military
and stuck with it. He̢۪s been posted far and wide and he̢۪s climbed
the ladder rather quickly in the scheme of things, considering he̢۪s
on the easy side of fifty. I know he has the capability to go higher in
the ranks, but I don̢۪t know that this will be possible because he̢۪s
been in for quite some time and the military now has mandatory
retirement rules.
D.̢۪s was CENTCOM̢۪s Director of Command Control Communications and
Information Systems. D., was posted to CENTCOM around 1999, after a
posting at the White House. His job ramped up significantly after 9/11,
and Operations Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom were his babies. If
his title obfuscates what he actually does, let me simplify it for you:
if it had a wire, an email address, a web link, a satellite uplink or
just a frigging radio and it was attached to CENTCOM, he was in charge
of it. His team made every single bit of communication relayed during
both of those operations possible. And he did a bang up job, if you ask
me. And I say that with no bias whatsoever. But as brilliant as D. is,
his wife, C., is even more so. She also works at the Pentagon, but is
civilian. As D. likes to joke, “Her clearance is higher than mine.â€
C., to quote an article from Signal,
---a military publication--- is in charge of, “â€Â¦the secure protocol
router network, also known as SIPRNET, which is a major conduit for
information across the breadth of the military.†So, to again
simplify: if you̢۪re looking for secure information on a server or a
database somewhere in the military, C. runs the portal to get you
there. A few years back the non-secure router network was hacked and
everyone was joking with her about it at a family gathering; she just
smiled cannily and said, “That’s not mine.†And just by the
determined look on her face, you knew hell would freeze over before her
work was taken down by some punk hacker. C. was in the Pentagon on
9/11. And she̢۪s had it incredibly rough as a result. I don̢۪t know
the entire tale, but she was to attend a meeting on the south side that
day, but she was busy and she sent one of her subordinates instead. The
subordinate never returned. So, C. knows exactly what was lost that day. And it̢۪s not likely something she̢۪s ever going to forget, either.
Why do we need to be asking these questions now? Shouldn̢۪t these
things be obvious? And of course they are to Rumsfeld, but not to many
in the great immovable bureaucracy that apparently regards national
defense as a 9 to 5 job whose purpose is a pension, not the survival of
liberal democracy. You̢۪d like to think that everyone in the Defense
establishment has walked at a quicker pace in the last two years. Taken
shorter lunches. Cut to the chase. You̢۪d like to think that from the
janitor to the Joint Chiefs, the mood was simple to describe: urgency.
The military might have been twice the size in WWII than it is now, but
it is infinitely more complicated. It does not hurt anyone, with all of
this intertwined complexity, to keep taking a gander at the big
picture. I believe this is what Rummy was trying to do: forcing
everyone to see the forest for the trees. D. and C. have given up a
major portion of their lives, dedicating their considerable talents to
keeping this country safe. Their jobs are the type that no one in WWII,
when the Pentagon was so speedily constructed, would have ever imagined
could possibly exist. They work long, hard hours; they were separated
for over three years by D.̢۪s posting in Florida and his overseas
deployments, so, on their behalf, I find it rather insulting that Mr.
Lileks would make the blanket statement that everyone associated with
the defense of our country should get their asses in gear and get
things done. Because, after all, if Lileks can see the big picture, why
can̢۪t they? Why should they have to reassert the goals?
Grrrrr. Could it possibly be that, perhaps, after two very long, very
successful operations, the goals needed
to be reasserted? Have you never been in a situation where you could
lose sight of the overall picture when you have this, that and the
other hitting you from every conceivable angle known to mankind?
That̢۪s what̢۪s happened to the US Military, James. They̢۪re
rebuilding two countries right now, not to mention the fact that there
are still US soldiers on the ground in places like Bosnia and Liberia.
The bosses are looking for more money to pay their troops with and to
pay for better armaments so the aforementioned troops don̢۪t end up in
a body bag. And they̢۪re doing pleading for this money from a Congress
that wants nothing to do with them. And as far as Iraq is concerned,
it̢۪s a toss up to as to who is more hostile to their interests: the
media or Saddam̢۪s loyalists. And you, James, want to know why they̢۪re asking these questions now?
Hmmph.
So let̢۪s make this the new standard for national defense: any
change in the way the Pentagon does business should take no longer than
the time it took to build the Pentagon itself.
Nice sentiment, and you know, there have been times in the past that I
would have agreed with him. Since Lileks used the WWII analogy to prove
his point, I̢۪m going to follow his lead. It̢۪s a different military
now than it was in WWII; it̢۪s more complex, and if it takes more time
to get a carrier deployed to a certain region because it̢۪s twice as
big as a WWII carrier, and is staffed by quadruple the number of
sailors, perhaps, just perhaps, Lileks should allow for the difference.
The same goes for the decisions that are made by the command structure:
they̢۪re dealing with a massive game of RISK that did not exist when
the US came into WWII: it takes time to arrange the pieces to make sure
they don̢۪t lose this country while they̢۪re taking this one over
here. It̢۪s ridiculous to even say something like this because it̢۪s
readily apparent that the military, whatever else it might be doing, is
not sitting on its collective ass. A little over a month after 9/11,
the US Military attacked the Taliban in Afghanistan. This fight used
every branch of the military: Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines. Now,
while it̢۪s rather easy to remember that the Twin Towers were hit on
9/11, we seem to have some sort of amnesia that prevents us from
remembering the Pentagon was hit as well. This is the building that
houses the command and control structure of the United States Military
and it was hit by a big jetliner on 9/11. This apparently didn̢۪t matter, however. The military did
ramp up and do its job. And that̢۪s no small feat. I, for one, was
thrilled to see footage from the deck of an air craft carrier during
Enduring Freedom because it meant that despite the fact the Navy was
the one branch who suffered the most during the attack on the Pentagon,
and people in command lost their lives, the Navy was able to function
as if their command structure hadn̢۪t taken a massive hit; they did their jobs
and they did them well. Compare this to the attack on Pearl Harbor. It
took over a year to get CINCPAC back up to standards. I know, comparing
apples to oranges, but the Japanese succeeded on December 7, 1941 in
hampering the US Military. Look all at what happened specifically
as a result of hitting our fleet at Pearl Harbor. The next successful
battle in the Pacific was Midway, and that didn̢۪t happen until June
4, 1942: almost seven months after Pearl Harbor was attacked. The lead
carriers for that battle included one hastily repaired ship, but of the
carriers that hadn̢۪t been in dock at Pearl Harbor on December 7th,
the Lexington had been sunk at the Battle of the Coral Sea a month earlier, and the Yorktown
had to be repaired in two days to get it ready to go back out again in
preparation for Midway. Now, you say, Pearl Harbor was honestly more
about taking out materiel than the command structure. Well, that is
true, I̢۪ll grant you, but consider the changes the military has made
toward folding the command and control structures of the military
branches into the Pentagon offices and it becomes clear that the attack
on the Pentagon had the potential to be much worse than it was.
Al-Qaeda had the same goal in mind when they attacked the Pentagon as
the Japanese did when they attacked Pearl Harbor. I believe they
didn̢۪t pick the Pentagon as a symbolic target. I don̢۪t believe they
hit it because it̢۪s a big freaking building and, dude, how could you
possibly miss it? I believe they slammed that jetliner into it because
they wanted to forestall any retaliation that would be forthcoming as a
result of their actions: it̢۪s the logical answer to the question of why?.
They knew we wouldn̢۪t stand for this sort of thing; they knew Bush
wouldn̢۪t lob a few cruise missiles and pray he got the guys
responsible. They knew we̢۪d want blood and they wanted to
keep us from having it. I truly believe the attacks are similar in
mindset, if not in the actual mission achieved. Our military is
different now than it was in WWII. It̢۪s incredibly simple conclusion
to come to. From the way it is run to the machinery used to facilitate
the goals, the military is simply different than it was in WWII. It may
take time to get the pieces in place, but when you remember that
America was an isolationist country at that time and had few forces
stationed around the globe, and even fewer commitments than it has now,
it̢۪s easy to account for the differences. Our military was not caught
with its pants down this time around: we retaliated quickly,
efficiently and effectively and the tone was set for the war on
terrorism. It surprises me that Lileks, who has been nothing but a
purveyor of the keep the faith
mentality in the war against terror, is suddenly finding it easy to
lose faith in the people running the show. To think that they̢۪re
entrenched and just whistling the way through their lives, not doing
any real work, just thinking about the fat government pension they̢۪re
earning as they count the days until they retire. I̢۪m sure a few of
them are, and he is somewhat justified in describing them as such. But
they̢۪re not all like that. I can tell you that for a fact, and to
lump them---even though he does qualify and use the words “not to
manyâ€---into lazy, desk dwelling, bureaucratic cretins is beyond the
pale. I think it was an incredibly wise thing that Rummy did: it was
time to refocus and regroup, and I̢۪m angry that Lileks thinks the
people on duty aren̢۪t doing their jobs. I̢۪m no great defender of
bureaucracies, and it does somewhat bother me to be defending this
massive bureaucracy, but Lileks̢۪ statement was simplistic and
insulting given 9/11: the people who make up that fat cat bureaucracy
he disdains were there that day.
They felt that huge stone building they thought was imperious and
immovable shake and shiver and shimmy when the plane hit; they smelled
the smoke, they knew a stone building was---incredibly---on fire, and
they ran outside to help. I̢۪m sure they get it; just as he claims
Rummy gets it. They̢۪re working toward the goal of defeating
terrorism, and I̢۪m sure they̢۪re not doing it as quickly as Rummy
would like, as is apparent in the memo, but the point stands: they̢۪re working on it nonetheless, because they, of all people, know the stakes if this war should fail.
I could, however, understand his complaints, grudgingly allowed him his
opinion while muttering to myself, “he just doesn’t get it,†and
moved on with my life. But today he hit my anger button. He really
hit it. I̢۪m livid. It̢۪s not like he̢۪s going to ever read this, so
I don̢۪t know why I̢۪m bothering to rip him a new one, but he needs
to be corrected and damnit, I̢۪m just the girl to do it. The only
other blogger I̢۪ve been reading longer than Lileks is Andrew
Sullivan. I was one of Sullivan̢۪s first readers, from way back in the
day when you could email Andrew and he̢۪d actually take the time to
answer back. I̢۪m choosy when it comes to blog reading: I don̢۪t
bookmark pages just because someone, at one time, had something amusing
on their blog: you have to earn my respect to get a bookmark, but when
you do, I̢۪m a loyal reader. I̢۪ll come back on a daily basis and
will voraciously devour whatever content you put out. Sullivan linked
Lileks one fine December day, I laughed my ass off and I̢۪ve been
coming back ever since. I live in the Twin Cities. I subscribe to the
Strib and I̢۪d honestly never made the connection between the
Backfence, which is Lileks̢۪ column in the Strib, and the Bleat until
one Sunday in January. I was thrilled. I was finding all sorts of
outlets to feed my new obsession with his writing. I like his outlook
on life. I like his opinions: they̢۪re generally consistent with my
worldview. I like the way he smithies his words. He makes me want to be
a better writer. He̢۪s brilliant, to put it simply. He̢۪s an
underrated writer who̢۪s been basking in obscurity for entirely too
long. I̢۪ve been of the opinion of late that when he hits it big,
I̢۪ll be able to brag that I̢۪ve been reading him forever.
But, all that aside, I particularly enjoy the fact he̢۪s not lazy: he
does not oversimplify issues for the sake of supporting the popular
rhetoric of the day. He produces worthwhile, thought-provoking
commentary.
For the most part. Today, however, I just have to wonder what the hell
he was thinking when he wrote this about Rumsfeld’s memo: “But in another respect, the memo gives you a sick sinking
feeling. Why do we need to be asking these questions now? Shouldn̢۪t
these things be obvious? And of course they are to Rumsfeld, but not to
many in the great immovable bureaucracy that apparently regards
national defense as a 9 to 5 job whose purpose is a pension, not the
survival of liberal democracy. You̢۪d like to think that everyone in
the Defense establishment has walked at a quicker pace in the last two
years. Taken shorter lunches. Cut to the chase. You̢۪d like to think
that from the janitor to the Joint Chiefs, the mood was simple to
describe: urgency.
You want to talk about what we can do when things seem urgent?
Remember: they built the Pentagon during the war. That̢۪s gearing up.
That̢۪s focus. At a congressional hearing on July 17, 1941, the
chairman of the House Subcommittee on Appropriations suggested that the
War Department might solve the problem of its scattered offices by
building, you know, one building. That was a Thursday. A request was
made for plans to be delivered to the War Department on Monday morning.
Tuesday morning the plans were presented to Congress; they were
approved by the House on July 28, and by the Senate two weeks later.
(Typical.) The bill authorizing construction was signed on August 25.
Construction began in September, 1941.
September 11, to be exact. Construction took sixteen months. So let̢۪s
make this the new standard for national defense: any change in the way
the Pentagon does business should take no longer than the time it took
to build the Pentagon itself.â€
{Calming breath. Exhale. Calming breath. Exhale.}
I̢۪ve mentioned before that my cousin is career military, but I never
really expanded on precisely what he did for the branch he belongs to,
which is the Army. D., until recently, was stationed at MacDill Air
Force Base in Tampa. Yes, that̢۪s right, kids, MacDill Air Force Base.
His e-mail address ended with .centcom.mil.
The CO he reported to directly was General Franks, and D. had one star
on his shoulder at the time. He now has two and you will address him,
please, as Major General. He is now stationed at the Pentagon. D. is a
brilliant guy, and I say this with no bias whatsoever. I̢۪d think him
brilliant if I just happened to meet him on the street and struck up a
conversation with him. The fact our mothers were sisters bears no
weight. He was encouraged early on by his father to join ROTC at
college as a way of easing the financial burden; D. liked the military
and stuck with it. He̢۪s been posted far and wide and he̢۪s climbed
the ladder rather quickly in the scheme of things, considering he̢۪s
on the easy side of fifty. I know he has the capability to go higher in
the ranks, but I don̢۪t know that this will be possible because he̢۪s
been in for quite some time and the military now has mandatory
retirement rules.
D.̢۪s was CENTCOM̢۪s Director of Command Control Communications and
Information Systems. D., was posted to CENTCOM around 1999, after a
posting at the White House. His job ramped up significantly after 9/11,
and Operations Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom were his babies. If
his title obfuscates what he actually does, let me simplify it for you:
if it had a wire, an email address, a web link, a satellite uplink or
just a frigging radio and it was attached to CENTCOM, he was in charge
of it. His team made every single bit of communication relayed during
both of those operations possible. And he did a bang up job, if you ask
me. And I say that with no bias whatsoever. But as brilliant as D. is,
his wife, C., is even more so. She also works at the Pentagon, but is
civilian. As D. likes to joke, “Her clearance is higher than mine.â€
C., to quote an article from Signal,
---a military publication--- is in charge of, “â€Â¦the secure protocol
router network, also known as SIPRNET, which is a major conduit for
information across the breadth of the military.†So, to again
simplify: if you̢۪re looking for secure information on a server or a
database somewhere in the military, C. runs the portal to get you
there. A few years back the non-secure router network was hacked and
everyone was joking with her about it at a family gathering; she just
smiled cannily and said, “That’s not mine.†And just by the
determined look on her face, you knew hell would freeze over before her
work was taken down by some punk hacker. C. was in the Pentagon on
9/11. And she̢۪s had it incredibly rough as a result. I don̢۪t know
the entire tale, but she was to attend a meeting on the south side that
day, but she was busy and she sent one of her subordinates instead. The
subordinate never returned. So, C. knows exactly what was lost that day. And it̢۪s not likely something she̢۪s ever going to forget, either.
Why do we need to be asking these questions now? Shouldn̢۪t these
things be obvious? And of course they are to Rumsfeld, but not to many
in the great immovable bureaucracy that apparently regards national
defense as a 9 to 5 job whose purpose is a pension, not the survival of
liberal democracy. You̢۪d like to think that everyone in the Defense
establishment has walked at a quicker pace in the last two years. Taken
shorter lunches. Cut to the chase. You̢۪d like to think that from the
janitor to the Joint Chiefs, the mood was simple to describe: urgency.
The military might have been twice the size in WWII than it is now, but
it is infinitely more complicated. It does not hurt anyone, with all of
this intertwined complexity, to keep taking a gander at the big
picture. I believe this is what Rummy was trying to do: forcing
everyone to see the forest for the trees. D. and C. have given up a
major portion of their lives, dedicating their considerable talents to
keeping this country safe. Their jobs are the type that no one in WWII,
when the Pentagon was so speedily constructed, would have ever imagined
could possibly exist. They work long, hard hours; they were separated
for over three years by D.̢۪s posting in Florida and his overseas
deployments, so, on their behalf, I find it rather insulting that Mr.
Lileks would make the blanket statement that everyone associated with
the defense of our country should get their asses in gear and get
things done. Because, after all, if Lileks can see the big picture, why
can̢۪t they? Why should they have to reassert the goals?
Grrrrr. Could it possibly be that, perhaps, after two very long, very
successful operations, the goals needed
to be reasserted? Have you never been in a situation where you could
lose sight of the overall picture when you have this, that and the
other hitting you from every conceivable angle known to mankind?
That̢۪s what̢۪s happened to the US Military, James. They̢۪re
rebuilding two countries right now, not to mention the fact that there
are still US soldiers on the ground in places like Bosnia and Liberia.
The bosses are looking for more money to pay their troops with and to
pay for better armaments so the aforementioned troops don̢۪t end up in
a body bag. And they̢۪re doing pleading for this money from a Congress
that wants nothing to do with them. And as far as Iraq is concerned,
it̢۪s a toss up to as to who is more hostile to their interests: the
media or Saddam̢۪s loyalists. And you, James, want to know why they̢۪re asking these questions now?
Hmmph.
So let̢۪s make this the new standard for national defense: any
change in the way the Pentagon does business should take no longer than
the time it took to build the Pentagon itself.
Nice sentiment, and you know, there have been times in the past that I
would have agreed with him. Since Lileks used the WWII analogy to prove
his point, I̢۪m going to follow his lead. It̢۪s a different military
now than it was in WWII; it̢۪s more complex, and if it takes more time
to get a carrier deployed to a certain region because it̢۪s twice as
big as a WWII carrier, and is staffed by quadruple the number of
sailors, perhaps, just perhaps, Lileks should allow for the difference.
The same goes for the decisions that are made by the command structure:
they̢۪re dealing with a massive game of RISK that did not exist when
the US came into WWII: it takes time to arrange the pieces to make sure
they don̢۪t lose this country while they̢۪re taking this one over
here. It̢۪s ridiculous to even say something like this because it̢۪s
readily apparent that the military, whatever else it might be doing, is
not sitting on its collective ass. A little over a month after 9/11,
the US Military attacked the Taliban in Afghanistan. This fight used
every branch of the military: Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines. Now,
while it̢۪s rather easy to remember that the Twin Towers were hit on
9/11, we seem to have some sort of amnesia that prevents us from
remembering the Pentagon was hit as well. This is the building that
houses the command and control structure of the United States Military
and it was hit by a big jetliner on 9/11. This apparently didn̢۪t matter, however. The military did
ramp up and do its job. And that̢۪s no small feat. I, for one, was
thrilled to see footage from the deck of an air craft carrier during
Enduring Freedom because it meant that despite the fact the Navy was
the one branch who suffered the most during the attack on the Pentagon,
and people in command lost their lives, the Navy was able to function
as if their command structure hadn̢۪t taken a massive hit; they did their jobs
and they did them well. Compare this to the attack on Pearl Harbor. It
took over a year to get CINCPAC back up to standards. I know, comparing
apples to oranges, but the Japanese succeeded on December 7, 1941 in
hampering the US Military. Look all at what happened specifically
as a result of hitting our fleet at Pearl Harbor. The next successful
battle in the Pacific was Midway, and that didn̢۪t happen until June
4, 1942: almost seven months after Pearl Harbor was attacked. The lead
carriers for that battle included one hastily repaired ship, but of the
carriers that hadn̢۪t been in dock at Pearl Harbor on December 7th,
the Lexington had been sunk at the Battle of the Coral Sea a month earlier, and the Yorktown
had to be repaired in two days to get it ready to go back out again in
preparation for Midway. Now, you say, Pearl Harbor was honestly more
about taking out materiel than the command structure. Well, that is
true, I̢۪ll grant you, but consider the changes the military has made
toward folding the command and control structures of the military
branches into the Pentagon offices and it becomes clear that the attack
on the Pentagon had the potential to be much worse than it was.
Al-Qaeda had the same goal in mind when they attacked the Pentagon as
the Japanese did when they attacked Pearl Harbor. I believe they
didn̢۪t pick the Pentagon as a symbolic target. I don̢۪t believe they
hit it because it̢۪s a big freaking building and, dude, how could you
possibly miss it? I believe they slammed that jetliner into it because
they wanted to forestall any retaliation that would be forthcoming as a
result of their actions: it̢۪s the logical answer to the question of why?.
They knew we wouldn̢۪t stand for this sort of thing; they knew Bush
wouldn̢۪t lob a few cruise missiles and pray he got the guys
responsible. They knew we̢۪d want blood and they wanted to
keep us from having it. I truly believe the attacks are similar in
mindset, if not in the actual mission achieved. Our military is
different now than it was in WWII. It̢۪s incredibly simple conclusion
to come to. From the way it is run to the machinery used to facilitate
the goals, the military is simply different than it was in WWII. It may
take time to get the pieces in place, but when you remember that
America was an isolationist country at that time and had few forces
stationed around the globe, and even fewer commitments than it has now,
it̢۪s easy to account for the differences. Our military was not caught
with its pants down this time around: we retaliated quickly,
efficiently and effectively and the tone was set for the war on
terrorism. It surprises me that Lileks, who has been nothing but a
purveyor of the keep the faith
mentality in the war against terror, is suddenly finding it easy to
lose faith in the people running the show. To think that they̢۪re
entrenched and just whistling the way through their lives, not doing
any real work, just thinking about the fat government pension they̢۪re
earning as they count the days until they retire. I̢۪m sure a few of
them are, and he is somewhat justified in describing them as such. But
they̢۪re not all like that. I can tell you that for a fact, and to
lump them---even though he does qualify and use the words “not to
manyâ€---into lazy, desk dwelling, bureaucratic cretins is beyond the
pale. I think it was an incredibly wise thing that Rummy did: it was
time to refocus and regroup, and I̢۪m angry that Lileks thinks the
people on duty aren̢۪t doing their jobs. I̢۪m no great defender of
bureaucracies, and it does somewhat bother me to be defending this
massive bureaucracy, but Lileks̢۪ statement was simplistic and
insulting given 9/11: the people who make up that fat cat bureaucracy
he disdains were there that day.
They felt that huge stone building they thought was imperious and
immovable shake and shiver and shimmy when the plane hit; they smelled
the smoke, they knew a stone building was---incredibly---on fire, and
they ran outside to help. I̢۪m sure they get it; just as he claims
Rummy gets it. They̢۪re working toward the goal of defeating
terrorism, and I̢۪m sure they̢۪re not doing it as quickly as Rummy
would like, as is apparent in the memo, but the point stands: they̢۪re working on it nonetheless, because they, of all people, know the stakes if this war should fail.
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--- Did some research in
--- Did some research in the wee hours of the morning about obtaining the non-director̢۪s cut of Last of the Mohicans.
Someone on the IMDB boards did the math: the theatrical release is 107
minutes long; the extended version is 114 minutes long. The version
that̢۪s 107 minutes is available on DVD in Europe and Australia. They
said that if you have a DVD player that is good for all regions, you theoretically
should be able to purchase a theatrical release DVD from amazon.co.uk
and be able to watch it on your TV, smirking the whole time at how you
outsmarted Michael Mann̢۪s best efforts to frustrate you.
Which led to my next question: what region is my DVD player good for?
If you actually open up read the frigging manual, the instructions are
written in both English and French. Woohoo. Maybe the bilingual nature of my instruction manual has given me a clue? Why
would they put out the instructions manual in English and French if
they̢۪re expecting only Americans to be buying the silly things? Who
speaks French here other than little kids in immersion classes? No one,
that̢۪s who. I̢۪ll bet it̢۪s good for all regions! The manual
said I could find this information on the back of the player. So, I
marched into the living room, heart full of hope that I could finally
get this taken care of, even if I had to do it in such an international
way. I could deal with that. I like getting packages from amazon.co.uk: it̢۪s cool.
After much wirely manipulation, I was, however, stumped. I couldn̢۪t
find the information anywhere on the back of the DVD player. Huh? I
know it̢۪s made in Japan; I know not to stick it next to a full
bathtub or the meanies at UL will come over and beat me with a rubber
hose before I can electrocute myself; I know where all of the speaker
wires go in, but for the life of me I couldn̢۪t suss out what region
the DVD player was good for. Hmmm. Went back to the instructions manual
for more information and Eureka! There was a copy of the design. Oh.
Here I had been expecting words when it was obviously one of those
cases where they came up with a clever little design for everyone in
the world to be able to use. Aha. Then I just about lost interest. I
didn̢۪t want to pull the DVD player out again: it̢۪s jammed rather
effectively into the small space we had available on the TV
console-thingy. You have to move the DirecTV box to get at it, and
because it̢۪s a receiver and a five disc DVD player, it̢۪s kind of
big and bulky---and hard to move. Even the thought of having my very
own copy of the movie and the availability of being able to watch the
very yummy, loinclothed, Daniel Day-Lewis run up that rocky hillside,
his gorgeous long hair flowing in the breeze, whenever I wanted to
wasn̢۪t enough of an incentive to pull the damn thing out again.
Hmmmm. Pondered on this for a few minutes and then I remembered we
still had the boxes down in the storage room. I̢۪ll bet it̢۪s on there.
Ran down three flights of steps in my jammies, praying the downstairs
neighbors wouldn̢۪t pop their heads out of their door to see my boobs
hopping jauntily as I blew by. Fortunately, I made it to the storage
room without incident, found the box and there it was: a big ol̢۪ 1 on a truncated map of the globe, declaring that I̢۪m screwed because I̢۪m an American.
Damnit! I don̢۪t know whether I̢۪m more pissed off that I can̢۪t
outsmart Michael Mann, or that I wasn̢۪t tech savvy enough to know to
purchase a DVD player that was good worldwide. --- Michele over at A Small Victory has an interesting piece today. You can find the original link here.
Seems the animal rights activists have gone a wee bit to the fringe side of things. Yeah, I know they already are
fringe, but it seems as if the thought of someone murdering mice for
biotech research has finally pushed them into the deep end of the pool
of hysteria. If this isn̢۪t threatening, I don̢۪t know what is. "All customers and their families are considered legitimate
targets," the group wrote. "We have given all the collaborators a
chance to withdraw from their relations from (Huntingdon)," the note
continued. "We will now be doubling the size of every device we make.
Today it is 10 pounds, tomorrow 20. Until your buildings are nothing
more than rubble. It is time for this war to truly have two sides. No
more will all of the killing be done by the oppressors, now the
oppressed will strike back."
The oppressed will strike back, eh? I don̢۪t know about you, but I
have this hideous vision of one of those industrial sized rats with a
lump of C-4 strapped to its back, detonators poking randomly out of the
plastic explosive, waddling its way around an empty and dark office
building. But, of course, this would never happen in the real world:
rats obviously have more rights than humans: besides, because of their
low levels of intelligence they can̢۪t exactly detonate the damn thing
and not be killed at the same time, so they would never be used in the
first place. Because, of course, not one animal can be killed for
anything, and anyone who does is just mean and deserves to die. Just one more instance of my imagination going to waste. Sigh.
But wait, if you thought that little threat wasn̢۪t good enough, have no fear, there̢۪s more:
In its anonymous message Tuesday, Revolutionary Cells wrote that
Chiron has not seen the last of the group and warned that the chairman
of the biotech firm's board and the rest of "the company's team" is in
danger. "How are you sleeping?" the message said. "You never know when
your house, your car even, might go boom. Who knows, that new car in
the parking lot may be packed with explosives. Or maybe it will be a
shot in the dark."
Yikes. I̢۪m
scared and I̢۪m not a target. What a great way to get your message
across: scare the living daylights out of some secretary who took a job
there to be able to pay her mortgage and feed her kids. Now, instead of
worrying about feeding, sheltering, and educating her kids, she also
has to worry about some nutjob planting a bomb in her car because,
according to their communiqué, she’s a “member of the team.†If
I were her, I̢۪d probably quit. Who needs the hassle? But why should
she? She hasn̢۪t done anything but type up letters and answer phones?
How is she responsible? She̢۪s guilty by association? Simply because
she needed a job that would cover her mortgage and maybe had good
benefits? What̢۪s amazing to me is that anyone who levels a threat
like this is usually called a terrorist. We generally have no
reservations about doing so, either. But not in this case: the FBI̢۪s
the only one who̢۪s calling a spade a spade: everyone else, including
the writer of this article, is dodging the issue. If memory serves,
there̢۪s a guy in jail right now named Ted Kaczynski. Ted was a
seemingly harmless guy who lived in a shack in Montana. The neighbors
stayed away mainly because he smelled and muttered to himself a lot,
but since he kept to himself and didn̢۪t bother anyone, they left him
alone. Turned out, Ted wasn̢۪t so harmless after all. He̢۪d been
sending out mail bombs that killed people and penning lengthy screeds
about academia. Ted was a terrorist. And no one fudged on that
description. He terrorized people, hence he was a terrorist.
What I would like to know is why is the SF Gate describing these terrorists as “militant animal rights group� What? Is terrorist
too nasty of a term for people who try and save fuzzy little rodents
from being used in experiments? Why do these people get a pass with
“militant†when anyone else who did the same thing would be called
a “terrorist� Call a spade a spade, would you? Don’t dress it up
or explain it away. These people want to kill people. They want to terrorize people into doing what they want. If they̢۪re not terrorists, what are they?
--- I̢۪ve been slacking with the Chuckle of the Day this week. So, here̢۪s a humorous little tidbit the husband sent my way.
Someone on the IMDB boards did the math: the theatrical release is 107
minutes long; the extended version is 114 minutes long. The version
that̢۪s 107 minutes is available on DVD in Europe and Australia. They
said that if you have a DVD player that is good for all regions, you theoretically
should be able to purchase a theatrical release DVD from amazon.co.uk
and be able to watch it on your TV, smirking the whole time at how you
outsmarted Michael Mann̢۪s best efforts to frustrate you.
Which led to my next question: what region is my DVD player good for?
If you actually open up read the frigging manual, the instructions are
written in both English and French. Woohoo. Maybe the bilingual nature of my instruction manual has given me a clue? Why
would they put out the instructions manual in English and French if
they̢۪re expecting only Americans to be buying the silly things? Who
speaks French here other than little kids in immersion classes? No one,
that̢۪s who. I̢۪ll bet it̢۪s good for all regions! The manual
said I could find this information on the back of the player. So, I
marched into the living room, heart full of hope that I could finally
get this taken care of, even if I had to do it in such an international
way. I could deal with that. I like getting packages from amazon.co.uk: it̢۪s cool.
After much wirely manipulation, I was, however, stumped. I couldn̢۪t
find the information anywhere on the back of the DVD player. Huh? I
know it̢۪s made in Japan; I know not to stick it next to a full
bathtub or the meanies at UL will come over and beat me with a rubber
hose before I can electrocute myself; I know where all of the speaker
wires go in, but for the life of me I couldn̢۪t suss out what region
the DVD player was good for. Hmmm. Went back to the instructions manual
for more information and Eureka! There was a copy of the design. Oh.
Here I had been expecting words when it was obviously one of those
cases where they came up with a clever little design for everyone in
the world to be able to use. Aha. Then I just about lost interest. I
didn̢۪t want to pull the DVD player out again: it̢۪s jammed rather
effectively into the small space we had available on the TV
console-thingy. You have to move the DirecTV box to get at it, and
because it̢۪s a receiver and a five disc DVD player, it̢۪s kind of
big and bulky---and hard to move. Even the thought of having my very
own copy of the movie and the availability of being able to watch the
very yummy, loinclothed, Daniel Day-Lewis run up that rocky hillside,
his gorgeous long hair flowing in the breeze, whenever I wanted to
wasn̢۪t enough of an incentive to pull the damn thing out again.
Hmmmm. Pondered on this for a few minutes and then I remembered we
still had the boxes down in the storage room. I̢۪ll bet it̢۪s on there.
Ran down three flights of steps in my jammies, praying the downstairs
neighbors wouldn̢۪t pop their heads out of their door to see my boobs
hopping jauntily as I blew by. Fortunately, I made it to the storage
room without incident, found the box and there it was: a big ol̢۪ 1 on a truncated map of the globe, declaring that I̢۪m screwed because I̢۪m an American.
Damnit! I don̢۪t know whether I̢۪m more pissed off that I can̢۪t
outsmart Michael Mann, or that I wasn̢۪t tech savvy enough to know to
purchase a DVD player that was good worldwide. --- Michele over at A Small Victory has an interesting piece today. You can find the original link here.
Seems the animal rights activists have gone a wee bit to the fringe side of things. Yeah, I know they already are
fringe, but it seems as if the thought of someone murdering mice for
biotech research has finally pushed them into the deep end of the pool
of hysteria. If this isn̢۪t threatening, I don̢۪t know what is. "All customers and their families are considered legitimate
targets," the group wrote. "We have given all the collaborators a
chance to withdraw from their relations from (Huntingdon)," the note
continued. "We will now be doubling the size of every device we make.
Today it is 10 pounds, tomorrow 20. Until your buildings are nothing
more than rubble. It is time for this war to truly have two sides. No
more will all of the killing be done by the oppressors, now the
oppressed will strike back."
The oppressed will strike back, eh? I don̢۪t know about you, but I
have this hideous vision of one of those industrial sized rats with a
lump of C-4 strapped to its back, detonators poking randomly out of the
plastic explosive, waddling its way around an empty and dark office
building. But, of course, this would never happen in the real world:
rats obviously have more rights than humans: besides, because of their
low levels of intelligence they can̢۪t exactly detonate the damn thing
and not be killed at the same time, so they would never be used in the
first place. Because, of course, not one animal can be killed for
anything, and anyone who does is just mean and deserves to die. Just one more instance of my imagination going to waste. Sigh.
But wait, if you thought that little threat wasn̢۪t good enough, have no fear, there̢۪s more:
In its anonymous message Tuesday, Revolutionary Cells wrote that
Chiron has not seen the last of the group and warned that the chairman
of the biotech firm's board and the rest of "the company's team" is in
danger. "How are you sleeping?" the message said. "You never know when
your house, your car even, might go boom. Who knows, that new car in
the parking lot may be packed with explosives. Or maybe it will be a
shot in the dark."
Yikes. I̢۪m
scared and I̢۪m not a target. What a great way to get your message
across: scare the living daylights out of some secretary who took a job
there to be able to pay her mortgage and feed her kids. Now, instead of
worrying about feeding, sheltering, and educating her kids, she also
has to worry about some nutjob planting a bomb in her car because,
according to their communiqué, she’s a “member of the team.†If
I were her, I̢۪d probably quit. Who needs the hassle? But why should
she? She hasn̢۪t done anything but type up letters and answer phones?
How is she responsible? She̢۪s guilty by association? Simply because
she needed a job that would cover her mortgage and maybe had good
benefits? What̢۪s amazing to me is that anyone who levels a threat
like this is usually called a terrorist. We generally have no
reservations about doing so, either. But not in this case: the FBI̢۪s
the only one who̢۪s calling a spade a spade: everyone else, including
the writer of this article, is dodging the issue. If memory serves,
there̢۪s a guy in jail right now named Ted Kaczynski. Ted was a
seemingly harmless guy who lived in a shack in Montana. The neighbors
stayed away mainly because he smelled and muttered to himself a lot,
but since he kept to himself and didn̢۪t bother anyone, they left him
alone. Turned out, Ted wasn̢۪t so harmless after all. He̢۪d been
sending out mail bombs that killed people and penning lengthy screeds
about academia. Ted was a terrorist. And no one fudged on that
description. He terrorized people, hence he was a terrorist.
What I would like to know is why is the SF Gate describing these terrorists as “militant animal rights group� What? Is terrorist
too nasty of a term for people who try and save fuzzy little rodents
from being used in experiments? Why do these people get a pass with
“militant†when anyone else who did the same thing would be called
a “terrorist� Call a spade a spade, would you? Don’t dress it up
or explain it away. These people want to kill people. They want to terrorize people into doing what they want. If they̢۪re not terrorists, what are they?
--- I̢۪ve been slacking with the Chuckle of the Day this week. So, here̢۪s a humorous little tidbit the husband sent my way.
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04:07 PM
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Post contains 1452 words, total size 9 kb.
--- Office Muzak for Monday,
--- Office Muzak for
Monday, October 6, 2003 Just made a copy (courtesy Mr. H.) this
weekend, so I have not listened to it fully, but just from the little
bit I̢۪ve heard, it sounds damn
good. Concrete Blonde is one of those bands that it̢۪s worthwhile to
shell out the money for a ticket to one of their shows. They are one of
those bands who love
to play for an audience. I caught one of their performances at First
Ave. last year and, honestly, it was one of the best shows I̢۪ve ever
seen. The music was good, and more importantly it sounded good:
they spent the time and the effort on making sure it was a worthwhile
experience for their fans to come out on a cold February night to see
them and for that I appreciate them. Nothing cheeses me off more than
spending perfectly good money on a concert ticket to see an artist who
could not effing care less about the audience̢۪s experience (Axl Rose
knows who he is). From what I̢۪ve heard, this CD catches the whole
Concrete Blonde ambience rather nicely. Check it out if you get the
chance: Johnette whales. And there̢۪s your double entendre homonym for
the day.
--- We had a busy weekend at the Cake Eater Apartment. I haven̢۪t read
the Sunday paper yet. And it̢۪s Monday afternoon. Rather pathetic, eh?
We had seven people over for dinner yesterday---a multiple birthday
celebracion---so shopping, cleaning and much finding of pots and pans
for the cook of the evening was in order. Strange thing that. Handing
your kitchen over to someone else to cook dinner is somewhat nerve
wracking, especially when the cook of the evening is a voodoo goddess.
Now, don̢۪t think we had a witch doctress over for dinner and that the
meal was interrupted periodically by the sticking of pins into dolls.
Our friend V. came over and made chicken moleâ€Â¦from scratch. And it
only took her an hour and a half. She also produced a ton of tamales,
of which a Ziploc was forgotten in my freezer (poor me). Wench. I̢۪m
not insulting her, actually. It̢۪s a compliment and she̢۪d take it
like that, too, because she is also possessed of what some
would---charitably---call a “quirky†sense of humor.
Best damn meal that̢۪s ever come out of my kitchen. Heavenly.
Orgasmic. Wonderful. Can̢۪t say enough good things about it. Mmmmm.
And it was topped off with lovely limey margaritas and a chocolate
espresso cake covered in fudge. Damn. Mr. H and I also went to an
opening on Saturday night here.
Another V. related activity. V. is quite the impresario: voodoo goddess
in the kitchen, singer, painter, motherâ€Â¦she’s one of those people
with a serious zest for life. She likes
living---with a vengeance; she likes not only seeing what̢۪s out
there, but experiencing it as well: she has very little fear and it̢۪s
all centered on protecting her priorities. She̢۪s managed to figure it
out. I envy her. Anyway, V. is a big supporter of this gallery, her
band played and she also exhibited one of her paintings in this Erotica
show. We went out to give her some of our support because she̢۪d
asked. The show was interesting, to say the least. Not so much because
the erotic art was, in fact, erotic. It wasn̢۪t. It didn̢۪t trip my
trigger, that̢۪s for sure. But it was fascinating in the sense that
what most of the artists considered to be erotic was pretty much the same as you̢۪d find in Playboy, Hustler
or any and all pornography---hard or soft core. In the early 21st
Century, we, as a society, seem to have this notion ingrained in our
heads that everything that is erotic also has to do with the genitalia
of both sexes. The majority of the artists seemed to assume that the
only thing that̢۪s erotic is what provokes the most visceral arousal
in their bodies. If you̢۪d walked around the gallery, you would have
seen half-naked women in full body paint wandering around, ala Goldfinger (although, there wasn̢۪t one who was actually wearing gold paint, but you get the idea). One woman was done up in a Cats
motif; another was painted to look like a peacock, with the feathers
attached in strategic places. They, of course, had the straight men
swirling around them, like hummingbirds to lilies. It wasn̢۪t
precisely jaw dropping, but was still an interesting mix of the mundane
and the extraordinary: naked, painted women drinking cheap wine,
smoking cigarettes, while the men who milled around them tried not to
drool. It was, as I suspect, as the organizers had intended it to be:
just enough shock to make you think twice about the incongruity of it,
but not enough to turn you off of the whole show entirely.
The paintings weren̢۪t remarkable, on the whole, but there were a few
notable exceptions. V. was one of the few artists who seemed to look
beyond the whole notion of “boobs on display†to actually explore
what lay beneath eroticism, but she was definitely the exception to the
rule. For the most part, there were paintings depicting S&M,
threesomes; lesbian lurve (which is always a crowd pleaser for both the
lesbians and the straight men that happen to be around); nudes up the
wazoo; there was even some prison love and one painting with a very
anatomically correct devil overlooking two bikers “enjoying†each
other (their facial expressions showed more surprise at being watched
by the devil than actual pleasure). But it was all the same as you̢۪d find in a Penthouse.
In fact, I would not be surprised at all to see that biker/devil
painting as an illustration in gay porn. I got the impression that
despite the leanings of the crowd---these are the people who choose to
live in the world outside of going to church on Sundays to atone for
the mundane Saturday night screw--- they still held the idea that
anything erotic is still something that---for whatever reason---is
considered to be relatively dirty. Except that they take it to the
opposite end of the spectrum: they̢۪re not going to hide it, but
celebrate it instead. It̢۪s surprising to me that, despite their
openness about all the things they consider to be erotic, how universal
it all is. The same art they had hanging on the wall in this gallery,
celebrating eroticism, was the same art you̢۪d find in a porn mag that
a preacher in the boondocks pulls out of a box hidden under the
floorboards when he feels the need. The idea of eroticism seems to
universal. Whether you̢۪re a Bible thumper or a multi-pierced,
multi-tattooed, mohawk sporting, leather daddy, chances are that you
probably like the same things: the same things turn you on; you just
react to them differently. The modern idea of eroticism seems to aim
directly for the groin, and for me at least, there seems to be
something wrong with that notion. Eroticism should be about more than
just arousing. It should be a celebration of sexuality, and if you̢۪re
somewhat enlightened, erotica should show that there is sensuality everywhere,
not in just what causes your body to forget it has a brain. I find it
highly interesting that at a party where a penis piñata was hanging
over the doorway (and I still don̢۪t get why the testicles were
green), I didn̢۪t find anything that showed me being open and
enlightened about all things sexual meant you had a different notion of
sex and erotic art than the most conservative of people. The idea of
attending an Erotica art show doesn̢۪t bother me: I̢۪m not scared of
sex, as some people are. I̢۪m sure, after reading what I wrote above,
some people are thinking I̢۪m repressed; I̢۪m also sure that some
would be surprised that I think they have a secret stash of porn in
their nightstand. Whatever. It just seems to me, that in this day and
age, we should be beyond the notion that our groins dictate what is
sensual and what is not. There is sensuality and eroticism all around
us, and in that, I think we̢۪re cheated when someone just slaps a nude
onto the wall and calls it erotic art. It̢۪s not, for me, at least.
Erotica that aims for the lowest common denominator doesn̢۪t expand
the idea of what is erotic: it just arouses---viscerally. And to me,
that̢۪s boring, and tells me we̢۪ve moved no further in this debate
as time has passed. Caligula would have enjoyed the show; he would have
enjoyed the painting that were on display, as would any other number of
men and women throughout the ages known for their sexuality. And while
it̢۪s all well and good to argue that this shows we are still human
beings and that definition hasn̢۪t changed much during the ages, it
also shows us that we haven̢۪t progressed further than what causes
much jollity when it comes to eroticism. This showing didn̢۪t raise
the level of the debate, and that̢۪s sad. It could have easily done
so.
Monday, October 6, 2003 Just made a copy (courtesy Mr. H.) this
weekend, so I have not listened to it fully, but just from the little
bit I̢۪ve heard, it sounds damn
good. Concrete Blonde is one of those bands that it̢۪s worthwhile to
shell out the money for a ticket to one of their shows. They are one of
those bands who love
to play for an audience. I caught one of their performances at First
Ave. last year and, honestly, it was one of the best shows I̢۪ve ever
seen. The music was good, and more importantly it sounded good:
they spent the time and the effort on making sure it was a worthwhile
experience for their fans to come out on a cold February night to see
them and for that I appreciate them. Nothing cheeses me off more than
spending perfectly good money on a concert ticket to see an artist who
could not effing care less about the audience̢۪s experience (Axl Rose
knows who he is). From what I̢۪ve heard, this CD catches the whole
Concrete Blonde ambience rather nicely. Check it out if you get the
chance: Johnette whales. And there̢۪s your double entendre homonym for
the day.
--- We had a busy weekend at the Cake Eater Apartment. I haven̢۪t read
the Sunday paper yet. And it̢۪s Monday afternoon. Rather pathetic, eh?
We had seven people over for dinner yesterday---a multiple birthday
celebracion---so shopping, cleaning and much finding of pots and pans
for the cook of the evening was in order. Strange thing that. Handing
your kitchen over to someone else to cook dinner is somewhat nerve
wracking, especially when the cook of the evening is a voodoo goddess.
Now, don̢۪t think we had a witch doctress over for dinner and that the
meal was interrupted periodically by the sticking of pins into dolls.
Our friend V. came over and made chicken moleâ€Â¦from scratch. And it
only took her an hour and a half. She also produced a ton of tamales,
of which a Ziploc was forgotten in my freezer (poor me). Wench. I̢۪m
not insulting her, actually. It̢۪s a compliment and she̢۪d take it
like that, too, because she is also possessed of what some
would---charitably---call a “quirky†sense of humor.
Best damn meal that̢۪s ever come out of my kitchen. Heavenly.
Orgasmic. Wonderful. Can̢۪t say enough good things about it. Mmmmm.
And it was topped off with lovely limey margaritas and a chocolate
espresso cake covered in fudge. Damn. Mr. H and I also went to an
opening on Saturday night here.
Another V. related activity. V. is quite the impresario: voodoo goddess
in the kitchen, singer, painter, motherâ€Â¦she’s one of those people
with a serious zest for life. She likes
living---with a vengeance; she likes not only seeing what̢۪s out
there, but experiencing it as well: she has very little fear and it̢۪s
all centered on protecting her priorities. She̢۪s managed to figure it
out. I envy her. Anyway, V. is a big supporter of this gallery, her
band played and she also exhibited one of her paintings in this Erotica
show. We went out to give her some of our support because she̢۪d
asked. The show was interesting, to say the least. Not so much because
the erotic art was, in fact, erotic. It wasn̢۪t. It didn̢۪t trip my
trigger, that̢۪s for sure. But it was fascinating in the sense that
what most of the artists considered to be erotic was pretty much the same as you̢۪d find in Playboy, Hustler
or any and all pornography---hard or soft core. In the early 21st
Century, we, as a society, seem to have this notion ingrained in our
heads that everything that is erotic also has to do with the genitalia
of both sexes. The majority of the artists seemed to assume that the
only thing that̢۪s erotic is what provokes the most visceral arousal
in their bodies. If you̢۪d walked around the gallery, you would have
seen half-naked women in full body paint wandering around, ala Goldfinger (although, there wasn̢۪t one who was actually wearing gold paint, but you get the idea). One woman was done up in a Cats
motif; another was painted to look like a peacock, with the feathers
attached in strategic places. They, of course, had the straight men
swirling around them, like hummingbirds to lilies. It wasn̢۪t
precisely jaw dropping, but was still an interesting mix of the mundane
and the extraordinary: naked, painted women drinking cheap wine,
smoking cigarettes, while the men who milled around them tried not to
drool. It was, as I suspect, as the organizers had intended it to be:
just enough shock to make you think twice about the incongruity of it,
but not enough to turn you off of the whole show entirely.
The paintings weren̢۪t remarkable, on the whole, but there were a few
notable exceptions. V. was one of the few artists who seemed to look
beyond the whole notion of “boobs on display†to actually explore
what lay beneath eroticism, but she was definitely the exception to the
rule. For the most part, there were paintings depicting S&M,
threesomes; lesbian lurve (which is always a crowd pleaser for both the
lesbians and the straight men that happen to be around); nudes up the
wazoo; there was even some prison love and one painting with a very
anatomically correct devil overlooking two bikers “enjoying†each
other (their facial expressions showed more surprise at being watched
by the devil than actual pleasure). But it was all the same as you̢۪d find in a Penthouse.
In fact, I would not be surprised at all to see that biker/devil
painting as an illustration in gay porn. I got the impression that
despite the leanings of the crowd---these are the people who choose to
live in the world outside of going to church on Sundays to atone for
the mundane Saturday night screw--- they still held the idea that
anything erotic is still something that---for whatever reason---is
considered to be relatively dirty. Except that they take it to the
opposite end of the spectrum: they̢۪re not going to hide it, but
celebrate it instead. It̢۪s surprising to me that, despite their
openness about all the things they consider to be erotic, how universal
it all is. The same art they had hanging on the wall in this gallery,
celebrating eroticism, was the same art you̢۪d find in a porn mag that
a preacher in the boondocks pulls out of a box hidden under the
floorboards when he feels the need. The idea of eroticism seems to
universal. Whether you̢۪re a Bible thumper or a multi-pierced,
multi-tattooed, mohawk sporting, leather daddy, chances are that you
probably like the same things: the same things turn you on; you just
react to them differently. The modern idea of eroticism seems to aim
directly for the groin, and for me at least, there seems to be
something wrong with that notion. Eroticism should be about more than
just arousing. It should be a celebration of sexuality, and if you̢۪re
somewhat enlightened, erotica should show that there is sensuality everywhere,
not in just what causes your body to forget it has a brain. I find it
highly interesting that at a party where a penis piñata was hanging
over the doorway (and I still don̢۪t get why the testicles were
green), I didn̢۪t find anything that showed me being open and
enlightened about all things sexual meant you had a different notion of
sex and erotic art than the most conservative of people. The idea of
attending an Erotica art show doesn̢۪t bother me: I̢۪m not scared of
sex, as some people are. I̢۪m sure, after reading what I wrote above,
some people are thinking I̢۪m repressed; I̢۪m also sure that some
would be surprised that I think they have a secret stash of porn in
their nightstand. Whatever. It just seems to me, that in this day and
age, we should be beyond the notion that our groins dictate what is
sensual and what is not. There is sensuality and eroticism all around
us, and in that, I think we̢۪re cheated when someone just slaps a nude
onto the wall and calls it erotic art. It̢۪s not, for me, at least.
Erotica that aims for the lowest common denominator doesn̢۪t expand
the idea of what is erotic: it just arouses---viscerally. And to me,
that̢۪s boring, and tells me we̢۪ve moved no further in this debate
as time has passed. Caligula would have enjoyed the show; he would have
enjoyed the painting that were on display, as would any other number of
men and women throughout the ages known for their sexuality. And while
it̢۪s all well and good to argue that this shows we are still human
beings and that definition hasn̢۪t changed much during the ages, it
also shows us that we haven̢۪t progressed further than what causes
much jollity when it comes to eroticism. This showing didn̢۪t raise
the level of the debate, and that̢۪s sad. It could have easily done
so.
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03:53 PM
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Post contains 1533 words, total size 10 kb.
--- As much as it
--- As much as it slays me to link to the Washington Times,
I̢۪m going to do it anyway, because---for once---they̢۪ve published
an article with actual sources. Usually, they̢۪re the worst purveyors
of shoddy journalism you can find. It̢۪s easy to see how they̢۪ve
made a name for themselves and developed a loyal following: they̢۪re
the one newspaper with a distinctly conservative bent in D.C.. If
you̢۪re a D.C. resident, and you̢۪re sick of the Post, I
could see where this would be the newspaper you̢۪d want to subscribe
to. That said, however, they would do themselves a HUGE favor if
they̢۪d actually list sources and stop printing some of the stuff they
do. Some of the articles they̢۪ve published are worthy of Jayson
Blair. If they̢۪re not actual fabrications, they̢۪re just
inflammatory pieces that play to their deeply conservative base and are
not worthy of being called journalism. This article, however, is pretty
darn good, so I̢۪ll consider it worthy of linkage here. You, the
average Cake Eater Chronicles reader, are meant to infer that I think
this a worthy newspaper. It is not. But they did get this one right.
The husband sent me this
via email this morning, and I about laughed my fool head off. I can
just see the campaign lawn signs for Dennis̢۪ senate run. The husband
produced a variety for your enjoyment.
and
Now, I adore Dennis. He̢۪s one of those people who calls it like he
sees it. And he, obviously, doesn̢۪t mince words while doing so. I
find it shameful that Monday Night Football fired him for being too
literate. That was the only season I ever tuned in: he made it fun for
me. No matter how literate or erudite he is, however, he just doesn̢۪t
have it to run against an entrenched California senator. He̢۪s a smart
guy. I̢۪m not going to deny that, it̢۪s just that any race he might
enter is potentially doomed. I don̢۪t care how much money he̢۪s got
in the bank and might be willing to spend on an election: the Dems
would bankrupt themselves to make sure he was defeated. Arnold̢۪s win,
I believe, actually surprised them. Not the average, wired Democratic
politico in Sacramento, but more the average “I always vote
Democratic,†Joe. Joe was undoubtedly stupefied that the petition
effort succeeded, a recall was set, that the effort wasn̢۪t thrown out
by the Ninth Circuit. Joe undoubtedly spouted off every chance he got
about how Davis was re-elected last year---legally---and that the
recall was illegal as such. Joe definitely went to the polls two weeks
ago and voted against the recall and for Davis, simply for the reason
that Davis is a Democrat. This is the type of person the Democrats,
particularly those who are coming up for reelection, are going to be
mining for support of the financial and organizational types in any
upcoming races, particularly in Boxer̢۪s reelection run. This is
notion of direct democracy doesn̢۪t sit very well with most
people---from either party. But the notion of an outsider running in a
normal election does seem to raise the ire of a goodly number of
organizational persons for whom politics is their entire life: they
don̢۪t know what to do when an outsider runs other than come out with
their guns blazing. Yet, to have the guns blaze in the first place,
they̢۪ll need the support of Joe Democrat and after the recall, Joe
Democrat will get up off his butt and will work it off to make sure
nothing like Arnold̢۪s victory ever
happens again. Boxer is in no way a “vulnerable†senator. There has
been no popular uprising against her that I know of. I haven̢۪t even
heard of any distinct grumblings in her direction. She̢۪s pretty much
kept her nose to the grindstone in D.C. and has done what she could to
bring home the bacon for her state. That̢۪s fine and dandy. That̢۪s
what senators are supposed to do. While I can understand how electing
Arnold might lead pundits to think that his election will start off a
massive electoral revolt, I just can̢۪t see it
happening---particularly in terms of a well-supported, inoffensive
senator, like Barbara Boxer. Why do I hold this opinion? Because I live
in Minnesota. My state was governed by a former professional wrestler
for four years, and people, including myself, got sick of his antics.
If Jesse had run for re-election, my gut tells me he would have been
soundly defeated. What was new and refreshing when he originally ran
became excessively obnoxious by the time his term was coming to an end.
And guess who replaced Jesse? An entrenched state politico. Now, I̢۪ll
grant you that Arnold is too smart to give Playboy
an interview where he claims he wants to be reincarnated as a 38DD
bra---and it would probably play better in California than it did
here---but it all just depends upon what Arnold actually does with this
wellspring of support he received. If he does well and does what he
claimed he could do---and it works out---he could have the coattails to
get Dennis elected to the Senate. It could just as easily come back at
him, too. And he̢۪s walking a much finer line than most politicians
are subjected to because of his celebrity status. I would hope that
Dennis, however, would be smart enough to realize that a. it̢۪s too
early to be making any sort of assumption about Arnold̢۪s coattails
and b. that no matter how famous you might be, it doesn̢۪t mean
you̢۪ve automatically got the groundwork laid for an election. Unlike
Mr. Schwarzenegger, Mr. Miller has not spent years laying the
groundwork for a run for public office. "Arnold did not just come out
of the blue and do this," Mr. Horowitz said. Horowitz is completely
correct on this point. It̢۪s been rumored for forever that Arnold had
gubernatorial ambitions. He got out there and did the work required to
make it a possibility before he attempted a run. Arnold attended party
functions; he got to know the insiders; he put himself out there,
supported initiatives, and took the heat for his ideas. Arnold worked
to make himself seen as a serious candidate. Dennis would be an
interesting candidate in that he̢۪s got the brains to make it work,
but I doubt that he met the Chairman of the California Republican Party
before he got on Arnold̢۪s bandwagon: Arnold undoubtedly has known
this person for years. This means that Dennis would have, at the very
least, a two-front battle to fight: getting the Republicans on board and trying to unseat an invulnerable senator. But those are the major
battles: there are plenty of minor ones to fight as well. As California
has all of those electoral votes, and the presidential nominees are
always out there, this campaign would also be a national deal: in
essence the timing is off because a presidential race is on in full
force. He would have to fight off any Democratic Presidential Nominee
who needs to win California to acquire the Oval Office while
campaigning for Boxer at the same time. And, lest we forget the other
side of the equation, Dennis would also be forced to take a significant
amount of heat because he's a Bush supporter---and let's face it, Bush
is not really popular in California. It's a toss-up as to who ignored
the other better in the recall campaign---Arnold or Bush---but I think
it was Arnold who was savvy enough to tell Bush to stay the hell away.
There are also fundraising battles to consider. I think Dennis has got
it good financially, but let̢۪s face it, unless he invested REALLY
well, he doesn̢۪t have the chunk of change that Arnold had to rely
upon. And the biggest battle of all will be fighting the miles of
cringe worthy video footage of Dennis spouting off about one topic or
another from his talk show days that any smart Democrat is salivating
at the chance of using in issue ads. This is a lot to beat down for
even the most experienced politico. Unless the finger of God came down
and granted a few miracles, I don̢۪t see how he could possibly be
successful. I̢۪d love to see him run, but I just don̢۪t think the
near future is the time for such a run. He̢۪d be slaughtered. And
that̢۪s sad because I̢۪d really enjoy him talking about Robert
Byrd̢۪s former Klan membership on the Senate floor. C-SPAN would
actually be worth watching for a change.
--- And now for something completely different.
I am sick and freaking tired of these Japanese Ladybugs that seem to be
swarming in my back hallway and finding their way into the apartment as
a result. Ugh.
The weather̢۪s been spectacular since I got back from Florida.
Mid-70̢۪s, sunny, leaves falling. It̢۪s classic Indian Summer weather
and it̢۪s been nice. What is not nice, however, is that we have been
swarmed with these stupid ladybugs as a result of the warm weather.
When the husband and I got back from our walk last night, we arrived at
our back door and saw the hordes of the little things and were grossed
out. Now, it should be said that the husband is not afraid of any type
of insect and is a supreme hunter of them. But last evening, he looked
up as he took off his shoes, saw the plentiful array of ladybugs, said,
“eeew†and slid in the back door and quickly as he could, avoiding
the problem entirely. I don̢۪t know exactly what he was thinking. That
perhaps because I don̢۪t have a problem with squashing the little
things, I would take care of it? Could easily be the case. Whatever he
was thinking, I have no clue about it, but he skipped on the problem
and it was left to me. We̢۪ve never had this problem before
and---assuming this ladybug infestation has been a problem in previous
years and I just never noticed---I suspect the reason we̢۪re getting
hit now is because of the renovations the slumlord performed on the
Cake Eater Duplex last fall. I must admit, the renovation was the
product of our whining, so, if you really wanted a practical example of
chaos theory, this would be the one for you to include in your doctoral
dissertation. God help you when you have to defend it orally, but
that̢۪s not really my problem, is it?
Anyway, I digress, as usual. When we moved in, the Cake Eater Apartment
had steam heat, which meant big clunky radiators were placed under
every window---and we have a goodly number of windows. There was no
venting whatsoever in the apartment. For the first few years that we
lived here, we had no issues with the heat, other than the only
thermostat was in the downstairs apartment, but that was easily
resolved with a fair amount of communication with the neighbors, asking
them to kindly not broil us to death. Two winters ago, however, the
ancient boiler in the basement started acting up. And it was beyond the
husband to fix. The husband is a good handyman, and he̢۪s infinitely
easier to ask to fix something, rather than our building manager, who
could be best described (read euphemistically) as unreliable.
But the boiler was beyond him. The dang thing kept crashing. You̢۪d go
to bed and it would be working just fine, and in the morning you̢۪d
awake to frosty temperatures in the apartment. After calling the
manager and getting him up from his hangover (whoops---did I say
that?), he̢۪d come over and fix the thing and things would be fine
until the next time it crashed and you̢۪d have to phone again. Well,
the manager finally relayed the need for a new boiler to the Great
White Hunter slumlord. We celebrated. Jumped up and down for joy that
the slumlord was finally going
to do something about this great, yet unloved, house we live in. This
is, however, where the chaos theory comes in: ask for a new boiler and
you will get a forced air furnace with all of the requisite venting
running through the attic that you can handle. This is a problem, you
see, because the attic has old wooden venting slats that no one has
ever bothered to board up. All sorts of wonderful insects fly into the
attic, and subsequently into the apartment, through these slats.
Insects we̢۪ve never noticed before because we never had vents. This
summer, there was a wasp nest up there; now we are dealing with
Japanese Ladybugs. They̢۪re swarming in the back hallway. I counted
while I sucked them up with the vacuum yesterday---I got thirty-three.
And that was just in the back hallway: I̢۪m not talking about the ones
who have made it into the bathroom or hang out by my favorite seat on
the sofa. It̢۪s revolting. I just went out there and there are three
new ones. I left the vacuum cleaner out just in case. So, there̢۪s
your practical application of chaos theory. Instead of a butterfly
beating its wings on one side of the globe and subsequently causing a
typhoon on the other, you have: bitch
greatly about broken boiler---forced air heat and new venting
installed--- ultimately resulting in swarms of Japanese Ladybugs.
Simpler than the butterfly/typhoon example, eh? Make sure you mention
me in your dissertation acknowledgements.
--- When I was writing yesterday̢۪s post, wee bastard̢۪s battery died
and I lost some information. Unfortunately, I did not notice this until
this morning. Whoops. I would like to thank my guest bloggers for all
of their hard work. I was amused. I hope you were, too. And in exciting
news if you̢۪re interested in the husband at all, you should know that
he has a new blog called the TPS Report,
and you can get there by following the link at the top right of this
page. You should know that the husband makes his living telling all of
those people who have chief as the first word in their
professional title what they do and do not need for IT solutions.
He̢۪s a strategy guy: he looks at the big picture of a company and
finds what will work best for them. The TPS Report (and he explains the
meaning behind that title in one of his posts) is mainly devoted to his
ideas in this area. I̢۪ve long said, in a non-biased way, that the
husband is one of the smartest people I know. And I mean that: he̢۪s
got a genius IQ. He has a BIG brain and is able to grasp concepts much
more quickly than most people. All right, there̢۪s your mandatory bit
of nepotism for the day and I̢۪m outta here.
I̢۪m going to do it anyway, because---for once---they̢۪ve published
an article with actual sources. Usually, they̢۪re the worst purveyors
of shoddy journalism you can find. It̢۪s easy to see how they̢۪ve
made a name for themselves and developed a loyal following: they̢۪re
the one newspaper with a distinctly conservative bent in D.C.. If
you̢۪re a D.C. resident, and you̢۪re sick of the Post, I
could see where this would be the newspaper you̢۪d want to subscribe
to. That said, however, they would do themselves a HUGE favor if
they̢۪d actually list sources and stop printing some of the stuff they
do. Some of the articles they̢۪ve published are worthy of Jayson
Blair. If they̢۪re not actual fabrications, they̢۪re just
inflammatory pieces that play to their deeply conservative base and are
not worthy of being called journalism. This article, however, is pretty
darn good, so I̢۪ll consider it worthy of linkage here. You, the
average Cake Eater Chronicles reader, are meant to infer that I think
this a worthy newspaper. It is not. But they did get this one right.
The husband sent me this
via email this morning, and I about laughed my fool head off. I can
just see the campaign lawn signs for Dennis̢۪ senate run. The husband
produced a variety for your enjoyment.
and
Now, I adore Dennis. He̢۪s one of those people who calls it like he
sees it. And he, obviously, doesn̢۪t mince words while doing so. I
find it shameful that Monday Night Football fired him for being too
literate. That was the only season I ever tuned in: he made it fun for
me. No matter how literate or erudite he is, however, he just doesn̢۪t
have it to run against an entrenched California senator. He̢۪s a smart
guy. I̢۪m not going to deny that, it̢۪s just that any race he might
enter is potentially doomed. I don̢۪t care how much money he̢۪s got
in the bank and might be willing to spend on an election: the Dems
would bankrupt themselves to make sure he was defeated. Arnold̢۪s win,
I believe, actually surprised them. Not the average, wired Democratic
politico in Sacramento, but more the average “I always vote
Democratic,†Joe. Joe was undoubtedly stupefied that the petition
effort succeeded, a recall was set, that the effort wasn̢۪t thrown out
by the Ninth Circuit. Joe undoubtedly spouted off every chance he got
about how Davis was re-elected last year---legally---and that the
recall was illegal as such. Joe definitely went to the polls two weeks
ago and voted against the recall and for Davis, simply for the reason
that Davis is a Democrat. This is the type of person the Democrats,
particularly those who are coming up for reelection, are going to be
mining for support of the financial and organizational types in any
upcoming races, particularly in Boxer̢۪s reelection run. This is
notion of direct democracy doesn̢۪t sit very well with most
people---from either party. But the notion of an outsider running in a
normal election does seem to raise the ire of a goodly number of
organizational persons for whom politics is their entire life: they
don̢۪t know what to do when an outsider runs other than come out with
their guns blazing. Yet, to have the guns blaze in the first place,
they̢۪ll need the support of Joe Democrat and after the recall, Joe
Democrat will get up off his butt and will work it off to make sure
nothing like Arnold̢۪s victory ever
happens again. Boxer is in no way a “vulnerable†senator. There has
been no popular uprising against her that I know of. I haven̢۪t even
heard of any distinct grumblings in her direction. She̢۪s pretty much
kept her nose to the grindstone in D.C. and has done what she could to
bring home the bacon for her state. That̢۪s fine and dandy. That̢۪s
what senators are supposed to do. While I can understand how electing
Arnold might lead pundits to think that his election will start off a
massive electoral revolt, I just can̢۪t see it
happening---particularly in terms of a well-supported, inoffensive
senator, like Barbara Boxer. Why do I hold this opinion? Because I live
in Minnesota. My state was governed by a former professional wrestler
for four years, and people, including myself, got sick of his antics.
If Jesse had run for re-election, my gut tells me he would have been
soundly defeated. What was new and refreshing when he originally ran
became excessively obnoxious by the time his term was coming to an end.
And guess who replaced Jesse? An entrenched state politico. Now, I̢۪ll
grant you that Arnold is too smart to give Playboy
an interview where he claims he wants to be reincarnated as a 38DD
bra---and it would probably play better in California than it did
here---but it all just depends upon what Arnold actually does with this
wellspring of support he received. If he does well and does what he
claimed he could do---and it works out---he could have the coattails to
get Dennis elected to the Senate. It could just as easily come back at
him, too. And he̢۪s walking a much finer line than most politicians
are subjected to because of his celebrity status. I would hope that
Dennis, however, would be smart enough to realize that a. it̢۪s too
early to be making any sort of assumption about Arnold̢۪s coattails
and b. that no matter how famous you might be, it doesn̢۪t mean
you̢۪ve automatically got the groundwork laid for an election. Unlike
Mr. Schwarzenegger, Mr. Miller has not spent years laying the
groundwork for a run for public office. "Arnold did not just come out
of the blue and do this," Mr. Horowitz said. Horowitz is completely
correct on this point. It̢۪s been rumored for forever that Arnold had
gubernatorial ambitions. He got out there and did the work required to
make it a possibility before he attempted a run. Arnold attended party
functions; he got to know the insiders; he put himself out there,
supported initiatives, and took the heat for his ideas. Arnold worked
to make himself seen as a serious candidate. Dennis would be an
interesting candidate in that he̢۪s got the brains to make it work,
but I doubt that he met the Chairman of the California Republican Party
before he got on Arnold̢۪s bandwagon: Arnold undoubtedly has known
this person for years. This means that Dennis would have, at the very
least, a two-front battle to fight: getting the Republicans on board and trying to unseat an invulnerable senator. But those are the major
battles: there are plenty of minor ones to fight as well. As California
has all of those electoral votes, and the presidential nominees are
always out there, this campaign would also be a national deal: in
essence the timing is off because a presidential race is on in full
force. He would have to fight off any Democratic Presidential Nominee
who needs to win California to acquire the Oval Office while
campaigning for Boxer at the same time. And, lest we forget the other
side of the equation, Dennis would also be forced to take a significant
amount of heat because he's a Bush supporter---and let's face it, Bush
is not really popular in California. It's a toss-up as to who ignored
the other better in the recall campaign---Arnold or Bush---but I think
it was Arnold who was savvy enough to tell Bush to stay the hell away.
There are also fundraising battles to consider. I think Dennis has got
it good financially, but let̢۪s face it, unless he invested REALLY
well, he doesn̢۪t have the chunk of change that Arnold had to rely
upon. And the biggest battle of all will be fighting the miles of
cringe worthy video footage of Dennis spouting off about one topic or
another from his talk show days that any smart Democrat is salivating
at the chance of using in issue ads. This is a lot to beat down for
even the most experienced politico. Unless the finger of God came down
and granted a few miracles, I don̢۪t see how he could possibly be
successful. I̢۪d love to see him run, but I just don̢۪t think the
near future is the time for such a run. He̢۪d be slaughtered. And
that̢۪s sad because I̢۪d really enjoy him talking about Robert
Byrd̢۪s former Klan membership on the Senate floor. C-SPAN would
actually be worth watching for a change.
--- And now for something completely different.
I am sick and freaking tired of these Japanese Ladybugs that seem to be
swarming in my back hallway and finding their way into the apartment as
a result. Ugh.
The weather̢۪s been spectacular since I got back from Florida.
Mid-70̢۪s, sunny, leaves falling. It̢۪s classic Indian Summer weather
and it̢۪s been nice. What is not nice, however, is that we have been
swarmed with these stupid ladybugs as a result of the warm weather.
When the husband and I got back from our walk last night, we arrived at
our back door and saw the hordes of the little things and were grossed
out. Now, it should be said that the husband is not afraid of any type
of insect and is a supreme hunter of them. But last evening, he looked
up as he took off his shoes, saw the plentiful array of ladybugs, said,
“eeew†and slid in the back door and quickly as he could, avoiding
the problem entirely. I don̢۪t know exactly what he was thinking. That
perhaps because I don̢۪t have a problem with squashing the little
things, I would take care of it? Could easily be the case. Whatever he
was thinking, I have no clue about it, but he skipped on the problem
and it was left to me. We̢۪ve never had this problem before
and---assuming this ladybug infestation has been a problem in previous
years and I just never noticed---I suspect the reason we̢۪re getting
hit now is because of the renovations the slumlord performed on the
Cake Eater Duplex last fall. I must admit, the renovation was the
product of our whining, so, if you really wanted a practical example of
chaos theory, this would be the one for you to include in your doctoral
dissertation. God help you when you have to defend it orally, but
that̢۪s not really my problem, is it?
Anyway, I digress, as usual. When we moved in, the Cake Eater Apartment
had steam heat, which meant big clunky radiators were placed under
every window---and we have a goodly number of windows. There was no
venting whatsoever in the apartment. For the first few years that we
lived here, we had no issues with the heat, other than the only
thermostat was in the downstairs apartment, but that was easily
resolved with a fair amount of communication with the neighbors, asking
them to kindly not broil us to death. Two winters ago, however, the
ancient boiler in the basement started acting up. And it was beyond the
husband to fix. The husband is a good handyman, and he̢۪s infinitely
easier to ask to fix something, rather than our building manager, who
could be best described (read euphemistically) as unreliable.
But the boiler was beyond him. The dang thing kept crashing. You̢۪d go
to bed and it would be working just fine, and in the morning you̢۪d
awake to frosty temperatures in the apartment. After calling the
manager and getting him up from his hangover (whoops---did I say
that?), he̢۪d come over and fix the thing and things would be fine
until the next time it crashed and you̢۪d have to phone again. Well,
the manager finally relayed the need for a new boiler to the Great
White Hunter slumlord. We celebrated. Jumped up and down for joy that
the slumlord was finally going
to do something about this great, yet unloved, house we live in. This
is, however, where the chaos theory comes in: ask for a new boiler and
you will get a forced air furnace with all of the requisite venting
running through the attic that you can handle. This is a problem, you
see, because the attic has old wooden venting slats that no one has
ever bothered to board up. All sorts of wonderful insects fly into the
attic, and subsequently into the apartment, through these slats.
Insects we̢۪ve never noticed before because we never had vents. This
summer, there was a wasp nest up there; now we are dealing with
Japanese Ladybugs. They̢۪re swarming in the back hallway. I counted
while I sucked them up with the vacuum yesterday---I got thirty-three.
And that was just in the back hallway: I̢۪m not talking about the ones
who have made it into the bathroom or hang out by my favorite seat on
the sofa. It̢۪s revolting. I just went out there and there are three
new ones. I left the vacuum cleaner out just in case. So, there̢۪s
your practical application of chaos theory. Instead of a butterfly
beating its wings on one side of the globe and subsequently causing a
typhoon on the other, you have: bitch
greatly about broken boiler---forced air heat and new venting
installed--- ultimately resulting in swarms of Japanese Ladybugs.
Simpler than the butterfly/typhoon example, eh? Make sure you mention
me in your dissertation acknowledgements.
--- When I was writing yesterday̢۪s post, wee bastard̢۪s battery died
and I lost some information. Unfortunately, I did not notice this until
this morning. Whoops. I would like to thank my guest bloggers for all
of their hard work. I was amused. I hope you were, too. And in exciting
news if you̢۪re interested in the husband at all, you should know that
he has a new blog called the TPS Report,
and you can get there by following the link at the top right of this
page. You should know that the husband makes his living telling all of
those people who have chief as the first word in their
professional title what they do and do not need for IT solutions.
He̢۪s a strategy guy: he looks at the big picture of a company and
finds what will work best for them. The TPS Report (and he explains the
meaning behind that title in one of his posts) is mainly devoted to his
ideas in this area. I̢۪ve long said, in a non-biased way, that the
husband is one of the smartest people I know. And I mean that: he̢۪s
got a genius IQ. He has a BIG brain and is able to grasp concepts much
more quickly than most people. All right, there̢۪s your mandatory bit
of nepotism for the day and I̢۪m outta here.
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--- Ah, Friday: the penultimate
--- Ah, Friday: the penultimate day to clean the house and do the
laundry. Even though I haven̢۪t been gainfully employed for three
years, it still feels like I̢۪m getting away with something by doing
the chores during the week instead of on the weekend, like all good
little yuppies. It̢۪s a weird feeling. It̢۪s like I̢۪m a burglar who
just stole something he could never possibly fence.
When I quit my job, it was took me quite some time to wean myself of
the notion I had to run around like a chicken with my head cut off.
Even though I had no need to do so, in the first few months of
unemployment, I found myself shoving my errands into a few hours and
driving myself insane in the meanwhile. It took about six months for me
to come down from the perpetual high of working my ass off and shoving
everything else into the free hours. Laundry? Eh, I̢۪ll stay up until
midnight to get it done. Cleaning? Shove that in the few free hours I
have between my scheduled shift and the one I had to pick up because my
employee couldn̢۪t find someone to cover it, and if that didn̢۪t
work, well, I was up doing the laundry, wasn̢۪t I? I could get it done
then. Bill paying? Write the checks and pray I can finally get to the
bank in time to cover them. After a few months of doing this still,
even though I had plenty of hours during the week to do these jobs, I
finally had to schedule myself. The week would go something like this:
Monday: laundry
Tuesday: work on manuscript
Wednesday: Bills
Thursday: more manuscript
Friday: clean
Saturday and Sunday: spend with husband
But, with one thing and another, I̢۪ve gotten off the schedule lately.
It seems as if I might have finally, three years later, gotten the
point that since I don̢۪t have a job, I can finally relax a wee bit
when it comes to the diligent schedule I had set up for chores. Laundry
now only gets done every other week. This has
happened—mainly---because I bought myself a boatload of underwear
this summer and I have no need to do laundry once a week anymore.
There̢۪s a bit of a lag between the husband̢۪s need for clean shorts
and my need for clean panties: the husband̢۪s still on the weekly
schedule in regards to his supply of fresh undies and I̢۪m not. My
solution to the problem: I̢۪m going to go and buy him more underwear.
We have plenty of clothes. It̢۪s not like we̢۪re lacking in this
department and one look at both of our overstuffed closets would tell
you that: there̢۪s no reason for washing every week. I̢۪m wasting
water. The bills, well, those I can̢۪t slack on, so they̢۪re still
getting done. Cleaning, however, is one I̢۪m slacking on. I̢۪m
working on it, however, as the Cake Eater Apartment is sparkly as a
result of my efforts this morning. I still feel as if I̢۪m getting
away with something, though. Must be that Catholic guilt showing for
not being gainfully employed and slogging through the weekend along
with everyone else. --- This thing is freaking cool---even
if it does take out the electricity later. You̢۪ve really got to enjoy
it when the headline advertises a “solar storm barreling toward
Earth†and yet we aren’t going to suffer any adverse repercussions
as a result. Definitely not the stuff of the movies, but pretty sweet,
nonetheless. As a former shortwave radio junkie, I feel for those who
are going to find themselves shut out today. If an increase in solar
winds can ruin reception, I hate to think of what this thing is going to do. Might just have to fire up my shortwave later to see how it̢۪s going.
--- Cheapskates.
Cough it up.
--- So, the question on my mind is: are you going to cut back on the brylcream, Pat?
Pat Riley̢۪s hair has always fascinated me: those precise comb marks
are thrilling for some odd reason. But, some perverse part of me wants
to see him without all that goop in his hair---just to see what it
looks like when he wakes up in the morning.
I̢۪m sure he̢۪d appreciate not having a big ol̢۪ grease spot on his
pillowcase anymore, too. Let that mop fly free, Pat. Show us that you,
too, can have a bad hair day.
I know, completely unrelated to his quitting as head coach of
the Heat, but hell, it opened the door for me to write about his hair,
and it̢۪s my blog: the hell with having to make this thing coherent.
--- Movie Reviews. And they̢۪re very late. We watched these over the
weekend, and I keep getting sidetracked from writing them. The Matrix: Reloaded
You were expecting something else, perhaps?
The husband is aMatrix
junkie. If you didn̢۪t read his essay from last week, perhaps you
should go into the archives and dig it up: it will give you a clue as
to just why he loves these films. It̢۪s odd, I know, but he loves philosophy. When the original Matrix
came out, he was just blown away. He went to the theater again and
again; when the video came out, he couldn̢۪t have it quickly enough.
And while he loves the special effects, the plot, the action, it̢۪s
the who am I? what defines me and makes me human? fate v. free will, questions that really excite him.
We saw Reloaded
in the theater on opening day: we̢۪d bought our tickets earlier in the
week. Then we saw it the next day, too, and again a week after that.
Since I was in Florida when the movie was released on DVD, I completely
expected him to have already bought it and watched it a few times by
the time I returned. Not so. He waited until I got back, which I
realize had to be the supreme sacrifice for him, and I appreciated it.
When the film was originally released, the critics didn̢۪t exactly
trash it, because they knew it was good, but they didn̢۪t trumpet it
either, like they had the original. They said things like remember,
there̢۪s another one coming out, it wasn̢۪t made to stand by itself;
it̢۪s not as coherently written as the original; the action outweighs
the philosophy aspects and on and on. Well, I can see where
they̢۪ve got a point, but I simply think the reason they didn̢۪t
trumpet the film is because they didn̢۪t get it. Now, there̢۪s
nothing wrong with that, I will add, but just because the original was
Philosophy 101, wrapped up neatly and decorated prettily with a bow,
doesn̢۪t mean Reloaded
wasn̢۪t as good because it wasn̢۪t as easy to understand. Honestly,
kids, everything got better in #2: the special effects, the fight
sequences, why shouldn̢۪t the internal conflicts have gotten any
better, as well? Why shouldn̢۪t---since the audience had successfully
passed Phil 101--- the writers have pushed the audience any further in
understanding the philosophy behind it? If The Matrix was Phil 101, then Reloaded dumped you into the three-hundred level classes.
You̢۪ve already made the choice, you̢۪re here to understand why you made it.
I adore the Oracle. She was my favorite minor character from the first: she was just so
not what anyone was expecting: a grandma baking cookies, lighting up,
and handing out oblique advice simultaneously. And she is the key to
understanding where Reloaded and Revolutions are going, or so I believe. After watching Reloaded
the first time, we went home and I popped the DVD of the original in,
watching the original scene with the Oracle. Went to see Reloaded again, and bam! I got it.
This isn̢۪t to discount the Merovingian (best line from Reloaded:
“Don't you love the French language? I have sampled every language,
French is my favorite. Fantastic language. Especially to curse with.
Nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard
d'enculé de ta mère. It's like wiping your ass with silk, I love
it.†), the Keymaker or the Architect, but the key is the Oracle.
Everything else about this movie kicks ass. I don̢۪t like making
predictions, but I do believe everyone who said huh? at the end of Reloaded will finally get it at the end of Revolutions.
--- We also rented The Italian Job
this past weekend.
What a fun movie. I̢۪m a fan of the heist genre. I love watching
thieves steal things: it̢۪s good fun and it gives you that vicarious
thrill of a job done well, but illegally. Mini̢۪s race all over the
place; a hacker takes over L.A. traffic control and manipulates all the
green lights (a spectacular fantasy sequence for ANYONE who̢۪s ever
driven in L.A.); the plot was good; and the minor characters were fun.
Seth Green amuses yet again; Jason Statham is gorgeous, as usual; Mos
Def looks like he has a ton of fun blowing stuff up; and Marky Mark and
Charlize are fab as well. Everyone looked like they had a good time
making this movie and the result was that the audience had fun as well.
The only disappointment was, amazingly enough, Edward Norton. They
didn̢۪t give him nearly enough to do. His character bored me, but upon
further reflection, maybe that̢۪s the point. His character was tagged
as “having no imagination,†hence he was being “the actor†and
really getting in the character by being completely unremarkable.
Anyway you cut it, though, it didn̢۪t seem like a role Edward should
have signed up for: anyone could have done it. He should have saved his
talent for something else. But this probably helped pay for Frida. And then Salma dumped him. Poor guy.
laundry. Even though I haven̢۪t been gainfully employed for three
years, it still feels like I̢۪m getting away with something by doing
the chores during the week instead of on the weekend, like all good
little yuppies. It̢۪s a weird feeling. It̢۪s like I̢۪m a burglar who
just stole something he could never possibly fence.
When I quit my job, it was took me quite some time to wean myself of
the notion I had to run around like a chicken with my head cut off.
Even though I had no need to do so, in the first few months of
unemployment, I found myself shoving my errands into a few hours and
driving myself insane in the meanwhile. It took about six months for me
to come down from the perpetual high of working my ass off and shoving
everything else into the free hours. Laundry? Eh, I̢۪ll stay up until
midnight to get it done. Cleaning? Shove that in the few free hours I
have between my scheduled shift and the one I had to pick up because my
employee couldn̢۪t find someone to cover it, and if that didn̢۪t
work, well, I was up doing the laundry, wasn̢۪t I? I could get it done
then. Bill paying? Write the checks and pray I can finally get to the
bank in time to cover them. After a few months of doing this still,
even though I had plenty of hours during the week to do these jobs, I
finally had to schedule myself. The week would go something like this:
Monday: laundry
Tuesday: work on manuscript
Wednesday: Bills
Thursday: more manuscript
Friday: clean
Saturday and Sunday: spend with husband
But, with one thing and another, I̢۪ve gotten off the schedule lately.
It seems as if I might have finally, three years later, gotten the
point that since I don̢۪t have a job, I can finally relax a wee bit
when it comes to the diligent schedule I had set up for chores. Laundry
now only gets done every other week. This has
happened—mainly---because I bought myself a boatload of underwear
this summer and I have no need to do laundry once a week anymore.
There̢۪s a bit of a lag between the husband̢۪s need for clean shorts
and my need for clean panties: the husband̢۪s still on the weekly
schedule in regards to his supply of fresh undies and I̢۪m not. My
solution to the problem: I̢۪m going to go and buy him more underwear.
We have plenty of clothes. It̢۪s not like we̢۪re lacking in this
department and one look at both of our overstuffed closets would tell
you that: there̢۪s no reason for washing every week. I̢۪m wasting
water. The bills, well, those I can̢۪t slack on, so they̢۪re still
getting done. Cleaning, however, is one I̢۪m slacking on. I̢۪m
working on it, however, as the Cake Eater Apartment is sparkly as a
result of my efforts this morning. I still feel as if I̢۪m getting
away with something, though. Must be that Catholic guilt showing for
not being gainfully employed and slogging through the weekend along
with everyone else. --- This thing is freaking cool---even
if it does take out the electricity later. You̢۪ve really got to enjoy
it when the headline advertises a “solar storm barreling toward
Earth†and yet we aren’t going to suffer any adverse repercussions
as a result. Definitely not the stuff of the movies, but pretty sweet,
nonetheless. As a former shortwave radio junkie, I feel for those who
are going to find themselves shut out today. If an increase in solar
winds can ruin reception, I hate to think of what this thing is going to do. Might just have to fire up my shortwave later to see how it̢۪s going.
--- Cheapskates.
Cough it up.
--- So, the question on my mind is: are you going to cut back on the brylcream, Pat?
Pat Riley̢۪s hair has always fascinated me: those precise comb marks
are thrilling for some odd reason. But, some perverse part of me wants
to see him without all that goop in his hair---just to see what it
looks like when he wakes up in the morning.
I̢۪m sure he̢۪d appreciate not having a big ol̢۪ grease spot on his
pillowcase anymore, too. Let that mop fly free, Pat. Show us that you,
too, can have a bad hair day.
I know, completely unrelated to his quitting as head coach of
the Heat, but hell, it opened the door for me to write about his hair,
and it̢۪s my blog: the hell with having to make this thing coherent.
--- Movie Reviews. And they̢۪re very late. We watched these over the
weekend, and I keep getting sidetracked from writing them. The Matrix: Reloaded
You were expecting something else, perhaps?
The husband is aMatrix
junkie. If you didn̢۪t read his essay from last week, perhaps you
should go into the archives and dig it up: it will give you a clue as
to just why he loves these films. It̢۪s odd, I know, but he loves philosophy. When the original Matrix
came out, he was just blown away. He went to the theater again and
again; when the video came out, he couldn̢۪t have it quickly enough.
And while he loves the special effects, the plot, the action, it̢۪s
the who am I? what defines me and makes me human? fate v. free will, questions that really excite him.
We saw Reloaded
in the theater on opening day: we̢۪d bought our tickets earlier in the
week. Then we saw it the next day, too, and again a week after that.
Since I was in Florida when the movie was released on DVD, I completely
expected him to have already bought it and watched it a few times by
the time I returned. Not so. He waited until I got back, which I
realize had to be the supreme sacrifice for him, and I appreciated it.
When the film was originally released, the critics didn̢۪t exactly
trash it, because they knew it was good, but they didn̢۪t trumpet it
either, like they had the original. They said things like remember,
there̢۪s another one coming out, it wasn̢۪t made to stand by itself;
it̢۪s not as coherently written as the original; the action outweighs
the philosophy aspects and on and on. Well, I can see where
they̢۪ve got a point, but I simply think the reason they didn̢۪t
trumpet the film is because they didn̢۪t get it. Now, there̢۪s
nothing wrong with that, I will add, but just because the original was
Philosophy 101, wrapped up neatly and decorated prettily with a bow,
doesn̢۪t mean Reloaded
wasn̢۪t as good because it wasn̢۪t as easy to understand. Honestly,
kids, everything got better in #2: the special effects, the fight
sequences, why shouldn̢۪t the internal conflicts have gotten any
better, as well? Why shouldn̢۪t---since the audience had successfully
passed Phil 101--- the writers have pushed the audience any further in
understanding the philosophy behind it? If The Matrix was Phil 101, then Reloaded dumped you into the three-hundred level classes.
You̢۪ve already made the choice, you̢۪re here to understand why you made it.
I adore the Oracle. She was my favorite minor character from the first: she was just so
not what anyone was expecting: a grandma baking cookies, lighting up,
and handing out oblique advice simultaneously. And she is the key to
understanding where Reloaded and Revolutions are going, or so I believe. After watching Reloaded
the first time, we went home and I popped the DVD of the original in,
watching the original scene with the Oracle. Went to see Reloaded again, and bam! I got it.
This isn̢۪t to discount the Merovingian (best line from Reloaded:
“Don't you love the French language? I have sampled every language,
French is my favorite. Fantastic language. Especially to curse with.
Nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard
d'enculé de ta mère. It's like wiping your ass with silk, I love
it.†), the Keymaker or the Architect, but the key is the Oracle.
Everything else about this movie kicks ass. I don̢۪t like making
predictions, but I do believe everyone who said huh? at the end of Reloaded will finally get it at the end of Revolutions.
--- We also rented The Italian Job
this past weekend.
What a fun movie. I̢۪m a fan of the heist genre. I love watching
thieves steal things: it̢۪s good fun and it gives you that vicarious
thrill of a job done well, but illegally. Mini̢۪s race all over the
place; a hacker takes over L.A. traffic control and manipulates all the
green lights (a spectacular fantasy sequence for ANYONE who̢۪s ever
driven in L.A.); the plot was good; and the minor characters were fun.
Seth Green amuses yet again; Jason Statham is gorgeous, as usual; Mos
Def looks like he has a ton of fun blowing stuff up; and Marky Mark and
Charlize are fab as well. Everyone looked like they had a good time
making this movie and the result was that the audience had fun as well.
The only disappointment was, amazingly enough, Edward Norton. They
didn̢۪t give him nearly enough to do. His character bored me, but upon
further reflection, maybe that̢۪s the point. His character was tagged
as “having no imagination,†hence he was being “the actor†and
really getting in the character by being completely unremarkable.
Anyway you cut it, though, it didn̢۪t seem like a role Edward should
have signed up for: anyone could have done it. He should have saved his
talent for something else. But this probably helped pay for Frida. And then Salma dumped him. Poor guy.
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--- So, we have some
--- So, we have some goodie articles from The Economist today. (subscription required)
The cover of the October 18th issue pretty much says it all. The opinion article goes into great detail about what this means, not only for China, but other national space programs as well.
As Sully would say, here are a few money quotes:
“The success of the Shenzhou 5 launch, carrying China’s very own
astronaut, is no small feat, especially for a developing country.
China̢۪s Communist Party bosses will, no doubt, bask in the outpouring
of national pride at home, and the envy of other would-be space cadets.
After all, China is only the third country to put a man in space, after
Russia and America, and the poorest one at that. As a nationalist boost
that is fair enough, but it does carry one awkward implication. It is
that China should no longer be sent the $1.8 billion or so it is
getting in foreign aid each year (much of it from Japan). It may still
be a poor, if fast-growing, economy but if it chooses to spend its
money on space travel there can be no good reason for outsiders to
subsidise that choice.â€
“â€Â¦putting a man in orbit remains a rather wasteful sort of
publicity stunt. No one knows how wasteful, for China is even more
secretive than others both about its space budget and about the bigger
military budget of which it is part. China is not alone in burning up
money on unneeded space ventures—think of the original Russian space
station, or America's (still grounded) space shuttle. But those two
countries at least wasted their own money. China, which makes sure its
otherwise opaque statistics always support its claim to neediness, is
trading in space on the generosity of others. And it does not intend to
stop at a single demonstration shot (which may, outsiders guess, have
cost a total of $2 billion): more costly efforts are planned, including
eventually a moon landing and even a space station of its own.â€
“Might those Chinese applauding this week's achievement feel
differently if they knew the price tag? The party is not about to ask.
There have been mutterings on internet bulletin boards; some of China's
scientists have wondered privately if the cash going into manned space
flight is well spent. China could be spending a lot more, say, on the
search for an AIDS vaccine (it has been woefully secretive about its
AIDS problem too, at the cost of many lives) or on better ways to
prevent outbreaks like that of the respiratory disease SARS. But those
Chinese, many of them in the countryside, with the greatest terrestrial
concerns, such as no real job, corrupt officials, lousy roads and
pockets of still considerable poverty, have little chance to say what
they think. Bizarrely, China has tried to appeal to its peasant farmers
by irradiating seeds in space to produce better strains—something
else that can be done more easily and cheaply on the ground.â€
Amen! But then again, why should we have expected the Chinese to spend
the money in for the right purposes? When have the Chinese ever
done what was reasonable since the Communists took power in 1949? These
are the people that either killed or exiled all of their
professionals---doctors, lawyers, professors---in that spectacular, yet
failed, effort to go back to the stone age known as the Cultural
Revolution. I think this is the overlooked point of the media̢۪s
coverage of this momentous event: how does this affect the average
citizen of the People̢۪s Republic? The answer is that it won̢۪t.
Unlike the American space program, where there was a small, yet
distinct economic advantage to researching space. In other words, we
got Tang out of the deal, as well as Velcro and all sorts of other good
stuff. The only Chinese who will benefit from China̢۪s space program
are the moneyed players, who will use the People̢۪s Republic̢۪s
efforts on this front to enhance their satellite launching
capabilities, and the military, who, according to the Economist, is
keen to modernize its satellite capabilities, not to mention the
possibility of exploring space based weapons. This says nothing of the
bribes that will be paid to the party honchos. The editorial goes on to
say that other countries should be leery of this for reasons that have
nothing to do with this renewed space race.
China will be watched more closely for its military intentions. The
rockets that power China's space programme are virtually
indistinguishable from the intercontinental ballistic missiles that are
intended to carry its nuclear warheads. China has been modernising and
expanding its nuclear force for some time; it has already shown that it
can release more than one satellite from a single rocket, giving it a
capability to put multiple warheads on a single missile should it
choose to do so.
Shocked by America's technological wizardry on display in the first
Gulf war, and even more so by the speed of its victory in the second
(not to mention the earlier routing of al-Qaeda and the Taliban
government that supported it in Afghanistan), China is also working
feverishly to overcome more conventional handicaps. Fighter aircraft,
bombers, ships and submarines bought from Russia are aimed at deterring
America from coming to the assistance of Taiwan, which China claims as
its own, in any future crisis. So is the plan to deploy a new radar
satellite in 2005, able to peek though the clouds to track America's
naval movements near the island.â€
On the whole, I find that last bit to be inflammatory because China
will forever be behind us. The Russian equipment they are buying in
great numbers is unlikely to be the top-of-the-line hardware the US
possesses, which is only likely to get better in coming years because
of increases in defense spending. This line of attach presumes that the
US has pretty much given up on weapons research; that the US is stuck
in a vacuum, and the Chinese will catch up sooner, rather than later.
Rubbish. For every frog they manage to leap, we̢۪ve leaped five. This
does not mean the weapons they are currently in possession of are not
deadly or are not capable of great damage: they are. I̢۪m not going to
deny that. It is also extremely possible that, as a result of their
space program, they will develop something we will have to
counterbalance. But it is unlikely that they will pass us by. It is
possible that China will make great strides, but with the corrupt
system they have in place now, and the potential fact foreign aid is
subsidizing their space program, it seems highly
unlikely---particularly if that Japanese spigot is shut off. --- The other article that̢۪s
very, very good is about the ramifications for Iranian women by
granting Shirin Ebadi the Nobel Peace Prize. Ms. Ebadi, if you will
remember, is a former Iranian judge who was stripped of her post by the
Revolution in 1979 and has been fighting for women̢۪s rights within
the system, instead of fighting against it. She is a chador-wearing
Islamic woman who believes Shari̢۪a is a good legal system, but that
it needs to be refined to better protect women. The Economist is on the fence as to whether rewarding her for her activities, on the whole, are a good thing for Iranian women.
Money quotes:
“Women were at the forefront of the 1979 revolution that toppled
the monarchy, although they had not done so badly out of the shah.
Under his rule, women got the vote, polygamy was, in effect, outlawed
and the divorce laws were egalitarian. If anything, the state was too
permissive for most tastes; the elite gyrated in bikinis to Shirley
Bassey, and swam in pools full of milk. The revolution promised women
dignity, as well as equality. A quarter of a century on, they have
neither. Rather than the flexible jurisprudence to which Shia Islam
lends itself, and which Ms Ebadi champions, Iran's Islamic Republic has
promoted what Farideh Gheirat, a leading women's lawyer, calls a
“bone-dry versionâ€. Lawmakers and judges reinstated polygamy, made
it virtually impossible for women to divorce without their husband's
consent, and condemned adulteresses to be stoned to death.â€
The Economist makes a very good point: just why should Ms. Ebadi
be celebrated for “fighting for women’s rights,†while she
upholds a system that, for the most part, acts in direct contravention
of that idea? Is it just the simple idea of fighting the good fight
that the Nobel committee is celebrating in Ms. Ebadi̢۪s case? This
seems to be the case, because upon further inspection, it doesn̢۪t
seem as if Ms. Ebadi, if she were a man---the true test of
equality---would have been given the award. They would have had
subjected just such a candidate to a harsher litmus test than they
apparently subjected Ms. Ebadi to. They would have claimed that such a
man could have done more; that they hadn̢۪t gone far enough in
ensuring equal rights for women under Iran̢۪s system of laws. Don̢۪t
get me wrong, I̢۪m still glad she got the peace prize. If the act of
granting the prize is lacking in this somewhat iffy recipient, at least
it made the statement that we should all be looking at the treatment of
women in countries where Shari̢۪a is practiced. But as the article
goes on to point out, “Iranian
women, even many who are indifferent to her causes, are intensely proud
of Ms Ebadi's achievement. But do not expect her to become a role
model. Despite a dash of radicalism—she goes bare-headed outside
Iran—she remains wedded to the cautious reformism that is espoused by
Mr Khatami and his supporters. And that, many believe, has failed. A
small but growing number of women are coming to reject the legal
superstructure to which Ms Ebadi is committed.â€
This, particularly when combined with the growing voting power of
Iranian women the article touts, seems to show that Ms. Ebadi has a way
to go in producing actual, quantifiable, results for Iranian women.
--- I̢۪m having a very good time right now driving one of my Alpha
Male neighbors insane. {evil chuckle}
Now, this isn̢۪t the nasty, next door neighbor who consistently makes
me feel like something you̢۪d scrape off the bottom of your shoe while
saying eeeeewww
in a loud voice, because I lack the money he has. No, this is the guy
who lives on the other side of our house: the retired lawyer. We̢۪ll
call him “The Gardener†because, for the five or six months he and
his wife actually reside in Cake Eater Land, all he does is work in his
garden. And have no doubts about it, it̢۪s a spectacular garden. That
Type A personality of his decrees that it should be fabulous and well
kept. He achieves this, after spending hours and hours on a daily basis
working toward this goal and usually puts my small garden to shame. The
Gardener, like I said above, is a retired lawyer. If you were a Twin
Cities resident and I happened to mention his last name, you would
undoubtedly know who I was talking about. He̢۪s fairly well known in
town. He was on the board of the major art museum in Minneapolis. His
CV serves him well, but now that he̢۪s in retirement, and doesn̢۪t
have a dang thing to do, he channels all of that Ayn Rand individualism
into his garden and the surrounding yard. My yard drives him nuts, and
it̢۪s fairly obvious. Now, we get along just fine with the Gardener
and his wife (she̢۪s a wee bit ditzy), and we̢۪ve shared many a
dinner with them. On the whole, they̢۪re pretty nice people, if not
indicative of the moneyed class they enjoy being a part of. In other
words: we̢۪re just not on their level---but it̢۪s fairly obvious he
has high hopes for the husband and thinks him capable of a great number
of things. Me, on the other hand, well, I don̢۪t know what the heck he
thinks of me, but I̢۪m sure he doesn̢۪t think I̢۪m living up to
whatever level of potential he seems to think I possess, but he̢۪s too
polite to say it. Our lawn has been a great strain on the Gardener, and
honestly, if I could do anything about it, I would. But the Great White
Hunter landlord doesn̢۪t seem to think that good lawn and garden care
is a requisite for a rental property, hence he used to make it a
requisite that once you moved in here, you, the renter, were
responsible for lawn care. Pfft. Yeah, that̢۪s going to increase the
property value, uh-huh, and there̢۪s a bridge in New York that̢۪s for
sale and I̢۪m brokering the deal, wanna have a look? Once we decided
we̢۪d finally had enough of that, they got a lawn service, but even
this guy who comes to mow is cut rate in the extreme: it takes him
about five minutes to do our entire yard and the result is
spectacularly bad, especially when he neglects to sharpen the blades on
his mower. But it̢۪s generally not the length of the grass that
frustrate the Gardener: it̢۪s the weeds that grow in profusion that
drive him truly insane. The main culprit that could ruin our domestic
bliss if it escalates its progression at all is the creeping charlie,
or what̢۪s known to most horticultural types as vinca vine. This nasty
little creeping vine that sprouts all spring and summer long is, at
times, the only green thing on our lawn. And, in the way of creeping
vines, it hits his lawn, and this does not please him. This happens
with anything from our lawn that makes its way over to his, whether
that be leaves or whatever. But right now, the Gardener is cheesed with
us for one reason only: his lawn is free of that nasty autumnal
detritus of leaves and ours is not. Ours is completely covered with
leaves: they̢۪re about three inches deep, in fact. You can̢۪t see the
grass for all the leaves, and this lack of tidiness, this lack of pride
in our surroundings is driving him to the point where he spent a goodly
portion of yesterday just pacing up and down the fine line that
separates our lawn, sighing and shaking his head, as if we were his
children and he was contemplating cutting us out of the will for
failing to rake the leaves. And what̢۪s funny is that this is a
calculated move on his part. He knows where our office is, and he was
pacing right under the window. I spied him looking up from time to
time, to gauge his progress in his guilt trip. Well, I̢۪ve got news
for him. We called the manager: he said the lawn guys would take care
of the leaves so I am not going to sully my nice tan hands with
blisters from raking up at least twenty lawn bags worth of leaves. Nor
will I do this because I would have to pay to have them all picked up
by the garbage guys because we cancelled the lawn and leaf provision of
our pickup---if I̢۪m remembering correctly, it̢۪s something like
$3.00 per bag. The Gardener can dream on if he thinks I̢۪m going to
break my back and bankrupt myself to please him. Doesn̢۪t stop him
from pacing though. He was back out there again today. We̢۪ll just
have to see how long this keeps up. And boy is it ever fun to watch.
--- Memo to DirecTv: {insert clearing of throat here} I DO NOT WANT A GODDAMN DV-R WITH TIVO SO STOP SENDING ME FLYERS
IN THE MAIL TRYING TO PEDDLE THE $##!@@$ THING TO ME! YOU WILL FEEL THE
FORCE OF MY WRATH SHOULD YOU TRY TO SOLICIT ME ONE MORE FREAKING TIME!
I TOLD YOU NO WHEN YOU CALLED ME; I̢۪VE TOLD YOU NO WHEN YOU TRIED TO
SEND ME ONE FOR A TRIAL PERIOD. I̢۪VE SHREDDED ALL THE FLYERS AND
ATTACHMENTS TO MY BILL THAT HAVE ADVERTISED IT. I AM COMPLETELY CAPABLE
OF CHOOSING MY SATELLITE COMPONENTS AND I DON̢۪T WANT THIS THING! DO
YOU UNDERSTAND ME? OR SHOULD I COME DOWN TO PHOENIX OR WHEREVER THE
HELL YOU ARE AND MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND IN PERSON? I HAVE VERY PERSUASIVE
MEANS THAT I DON̢۪T THINK YOU̢۪D ENJOY ALL THAT MUCH, IF YOU GET MY
DRIFT. BACK THE HELL OFF AND REALIZE THAT FOR SOME PEOPLE, NO MEANS
PRECISELY THAT: NO!
Phew. I feel better now.
The cover of the October 18th issue pretty much says it all. The opinion article goes into great detail about what this means, not only for China, but other national space programs as well.
As Sully would say, here are a few money quotes:
“The success of the Shenzhou 5 launch, carrying China’s very own
astronaut, is no small feat, especially for a developing country.
China̢۪s Communist Party bosses will, no doubt, bask in the outpouring
of national pride at home, and the envy of other would-be space cadets.
After all, China is only the third country to put a man in space, after
Russia and America, and the poorest one at that. As a nationalist boost
that is fair enough, but it does carry one awkward implication. It is
that China should no longer be sent the $1.8 billion or so it is
getting in foreign aid each year (much of it from Japan). It may still
be a poor, if fast-growing, economy but if it chooses to spend its
money on space travel there can be no good reason for outsiders to
subsidise that choice.â€
“â€Â¦putting a man in orbit remains a rather wasteful sort of
publicity stunt. No one knows how wasteful, for China is even more
secretive than others both about its space budget and about the bigger
military budget of which it is part. China is not alone in burning up
money on unneeded space ventures—think of the original Russian space
station, or America's (still grounded) space shuttle. But those two
countries at least wasted their own money. China, which makes sure its
otherwise opaque statistics always support its claim to neediness, is
trading in space on the generosity of others. And it does not intend to
stop at a single demonstration shot (which may, outsiders guess, have
cost a total of $2 billion): more costly efforts are planned, including
eventually a moon landing and even a space station of its own.â€
“Might those Chinese applauding this week's achievement feel
differently if they knew the price tag? The party is not about to ask.
There have been mutterings on internet bulletin boards; some of China's
scientists have wondered privately if the cash going into manned space
flight is well spent. China could be spending a lot more, say, on the
search for an AIDS vaccine (it has been woefully secretive about its
AIDS problem too, at the cost of many lives) or on better ways to
prevent outbreaks like that of the respiratory disease SARS. But those
Chinese, many of them in the countryside, with the greatest terrestrial
concerns, such as no real job, corrupt officials, lousy roads and
pockets of still considerable poverty, have little chance to say what
they think. Bizarrely, China has tried to appeal to its peasant farmers
by irradiating seeds in space to produce better strains—something
else that can be done more easily and cheaply on the ground.â€
Amen! But then again, why should we have expected the Chinese to spend
the money in for the right purposes? When have the Chinese ever
done what was reasonable since the Communists took power in 1949? These
are the people that either killed or exiled all of their
professionals---doctors, lawyers, professors---in that spectacular, yet
failed, effort to go back to the stone age known as the Cultural
Revolution. I think this is the overlooked point of the media̢۪s
coverage of this momentous event: how does this affect the average
citizen of the People̢۪s Republic? The answer is that it won̢۪t.
Unlike the American space program, where there was a small, yet
distinct economic advantage to researching space. In other words, we
got Tang out of the deal, as well as Velcro and all sorts of other good
stuff. The only Chinese who will benefit from China̢۪s space program
are the moneyed players, who will use the People̢۪s Republic̢۪s
efforts on this front to enhance their satellite launching
capabilities, and the military, who, according to the Economist, is
keen to modernize its satellite capabilities, not to mention the
possibility of exploring space based weapons. This says nothing of the
bribes that will be paid to the party honchos. The editorial goes on to
say that other countries should be leery of this for reasons that have
nothing to do with this renewed space race.
China will be watched more closely for its military intentions. The
rockets that power China's space programme are virtually
indistinguishable from the intercontinental ballistic missiles that are
intended to carry its nuclear warheads. China has been modernising and
expanding its nuclear force for some time; it has already shown that it
can release more than one satellite from a single rocket, giving it a
capability to put multiple warheads on a single missile should it
choose to do so.
Shocked by America's technological wizardry on display in the first
Gulf war, and even more so by the speed of its victory in the second
(not to mention the earlier routing of al-Qaeda and the Taliban
government that supported it in Afghanistan), China is also working
feverishly to overcome more conventional handicaps. Fighter aircraft,
bombers, ships and submarines bought from Russia are aimed at deterring
America from coming to the assistance of Taiwan, which China claims as
its own, in any future crisis. So is the plan to deploy a new radar
satellite in 2005, able to peek though the clouds to track America's
naval movements near the island.â€
On the whole, I find that last bit to be inflammatory because China
will forever be behind us. The Russian equipment they are buying in
great numbers is unlikely to be the top-of-the-line hardware the US
possesses, which is only likely to get better in coming years because
of increases in defense spending. This line of attach presumes that the
US has pretty much given up on weapons research; that the US is stuck
in a vacuum, and the Chinese will catch up sooner, rather than later.
Rubbish. For every frog they manage to leap, we̢۪ve leaped five. This
does not mean the weapons they are currently in possession of are not
deadly or are not capable of great damage: they are. I̢۪m not going to
deny that. It is also extremely possible that, as a result of their
space program, they will develop something we will have to
counterbalance. But it is unlikely that they will pass us by. It is
possible that China will make great strides, but with the corrupt
system they have in place now, and the potential fact foreign aid is
subsidizing their space program, it seems highly
unlikely---particularly if that Japanese spigot is shut off. --- The other article that̢۪s
very, very good is about the ramifications for Iranian women by
granting Shirin Ebadi the Nobel Peace Prize. Ms. Ebadi, if you will
remember, is a former Iranian judge who was stripped of her post by the
Revolution in 1979 and has been fighting for women̢۪s rights within
the system, instead of fighting against it. She is a chador-wearing
Islamic woman who believes Shari̢۪a is a good legal system, but that
it needs to be refined to better protect women. The Economist is on the fence as to whether rewarding her for her activities, on the whole, are a good thing for Iranian women.
Money quotes:
“Women were at the forefront of the 1979 revolution that toppled
the monarchy, although they had not done so badly out of the shah.
Under his rule, women got the vote, polygamy was, in effect, outlawed
and the divorce laws were egalitarian. If anything, the state was too
permissive for most tastes; the elite gyrated in bikinis to Shirley
Bassey, and swam in pools full of milk. The revolution promised women
dignity, as well as equality. A quarter of a century on, they have
neither. Rather than the flexible jurisprudence to which Shia Islam
lends itself, and which Ms Ebadi champions, Iran's Islamic Republic has
promoted what Farideh Gheirat, a leading women's lawyer, calls a
“bone-dry versionâ€. Lawmakers and judges reinstated polygamy, made
it virtually impossible for women to divorce without their husband's
consent, and condemned adulteresses to be stoned to death.â€
The Economist makes a very good point: just why should Ms. Ebadi
be celebrated for “fighting for women’s rights,†while she
upholds a system that, for the most part, acts in direct contravention
of that idea? Is it just the simple idea of fighting the good fight
that the Nobel committee is celebrating in Ms. Ebadi̢۪s case? This
seems to be the case, because upon further inspection, it doesn̢۪t
seem as if Ms. Ebadi, if she were a man---the true test of
equality---would have been given the award. They would have had
subjected just such a candidate to a harsher litmus test than they
apparently subjected Ms. Ebadi to. They would have claimed that such a
man could have done more; that they hadn̢۪t gone far enough in
ensuring equal rights for women under Iran̢۪s system of laws. Don̢۪t
get me wrong, I̢۪m still glad she got the peace prize. If the act of
granting the prize is lacking in this somewhat iffy recipient, at least
it made the statement that we should all be looking at the treatment of
women in countries where Shari̢۪a is practiced. But as the article
goes on to point out, “Iranian
women, even many who are indifferent to her causes, are intensely proud
of Ms Ebadi's achievement. But do not expect her to become a role
model. Despite a dash of radicalism—she goes bare-headed outside
Iran—she remains wedded to the cautious reformism that is espoused by
Mr Khatami and his supporters. And that, many believe, has failed. A
small but growing number of women are coming to reject the legal
superstructure to which Ms Ebadi is committed.â€
This, particularly when combined with the growing voting power of
Iranian women the article touts, seems to show that Ms. Ebadi has a way
to go in producing actual, quantifiable, results for Iranian women.
--- I̢۪m having a very good time right now driving one of my Alpha
Male neighbors insane. {evil chuckle}
Now, this isn̢۪t the nasty, next door neighbor who consistently makes
me feel like something you̢۪d scrape off the bottom of your shoe while
saying eeeeewww
in a loud voice, because I lack the money he has. No, this is the guy
who lives on the other side of our house: the retired lawyer. We̢۪ll
call him “The Gardener†because, for the five or six months he and
his wife actually reside in Cake Eater Land, all he does is work in his
garden. And have no doubts about it, it̢۪s a spectacular garden. That
Type A personality of his decrees that it should be fabulous and well
kept. He achieves this, after spending hours and hours on a daily basis
working toward this goal and usually puts my small garden to shame. The
Gardener, like I said above, is a retired lawyer. If you were a Twin
Cities resident and I happened to mention his last name, you would
undoubtedly know who I was talking about. He̢۪s fairly well known in
town. He was on the board of the major art museum in Minneapolis. His
CV serves him well, but now that he̢۪s in retirement, and doesn̢۪t
have a dang thing to do, he channels all of that Ayn Rand individualism
into his garden and the surrounding yard. My yard drives him nuts, and
it̢۪s fairly obvious. Now, we get along just fine with the Gardener
and his wife (she̢۪s a wee bit ditzy), and we̢۪ve shared many a
dinner with them. On the whole, they̢۪re pretty nice people, if not
indicative of the moneyed class they enjoy being a part of. In other
words: we̢۪re just not on their level---but it̢۪s fairly obvious he
has high hopes for the husband and thinks him capable of a great number
of things. Me, on the other hand, well, I don̢۪t know what the heck he
thinks of me, but I̢۪m sure he doesn̢۪t think I̢۪m living up to
whatever level of potential he seems to think I possess, but he̢۪s too
polite to say it. Our lawn has been a great strain on the Gardener, and
honestly, if I could do anything about it, I would. But the Great White
Hunter landlord doesn̢۪t seem to think that good lawn and garden care
is a requisite for a rental property, hence he used to make it a
requisite that once you moved in here, you, the renter, were
responsible for lawn care. Pfft. Yeah, that̢۪s going to increase the
property value, uh-huh, and there̢۪s a bridge in New York that̢۪s for
sale and I̢۪m brokering the deal, wanna have a look? Once we decided
we̢۪d finally had enough of that, they got a lawn service, but even
this guy who comes to mow is cut rate in the extreme: it takes him
about five minutes to do our entire yard and the result is
spectacularly bad, especially when he neglects to sharpen the blades on
his mower. But it̢۪s generally not the length of the grass that
frustrate the Gardener: it̢۪s the weeds that grow in profusion that
drive him truly insane. The main culprit that could ruin our domestic
bliss if it escalates its progression at all is the creeping charlie,
or what̢۪s known to most horticultural types as vinca vine. This nasty
little creeping vine that sprouts all spring and summer long is, at
times, the only green thing on our lawn. And, in the way of creeping
vines, it hits his lawn, and this does not please him. This happens
with anything from our lawn that makes its way over to his, whether
that be leaves or whatever. But right now, the Gardener is cheesed with
us for one reason only: his lawn is free of that nasty autumnal
detritus of leaves and ours is not. Ours is completely covered with
leaves: they̢۪re about three inches deep, in fact. You can̢۪t see the
grass for all the leaves, and this lack of tidiness, this lack of pride
in our surroundings is driving him to the point where he spent a goodly
portion of yesterday just pacing up and down the fine line that
separates our lawn, sighing and shaking his head, as if we were his
children and he was contemplating cutting us out of the will for
failing to rake the leaves. And what̢۪s funny is that this is a
calculated move on his part. He knows where our office is, and he was
pacing right under the window. I spied him looking up from time to
time, to gauge his progress in his guilt trip. Well, I̢۪ve got news
for him. We called the manager: he said the lawn guys would take care
of the leaves so I am not going to sully my nice tan hands with
blisters from raking up at least twenty lawn bags worth of leaves. Nor
will I do this because I would have to pay to have them all picked up
by the garbage guys because we cancelled the lawn and leaf provision of
our pickup---if I̢۪m remembering correctly, it̢۪s something like
$3.00 per bag. The Gardener can dream on if he thinks I̢۪m going to
break my back and bankrupt myself to please him. Doesn̢۪t stop him
from pacing though. He was back out there again today. We̢۪ll just
have to see how long this keeps up. And boy is it ever fun to watch.
--- Memo to DirecTv: {insert clearing of throat here} I DO NOT WANT A GODDAMN DV-R WITH TIVO SO STOP SENDING ME FLYERS
IN THE MAIL TRYING TO PEDDLE THE $##!@@$ THING TO ME! YOU WILL FEEL THE
FORCE OF MY WRATH SHOULD YOU TRY TO SOLICIT ME ONE MORE FREAKING TIME!
I TOLD YOU NO WHEN YOU CALLED ME; I̢۪VE TOLD YOU NO WHEN YOU TRIED TO
SEND ME ONE FOR A TRIAL PERIOD. I̢۪VE SHREDDED ALL THE FLYERS AND
ATTACHMENTS TO MY BILL THAT HAVE ADVERTISED IT. I AM COMPLETELY CAPABLE
OF CHOOSING MY SATELLITE COMPONENTS AND I DON̢۪T WANT THIS THING! DO
YOU UNDERSTAND ME? OR SHOULD I COME DOWN TO PHOENIX OR WHEREVER THE
HELL YOU ARE AND MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND IN PERSON? I HAVE VERY PERSUASIVE
MEANS THAT I DON̢۪T THINK YOU̢۪D ENJOY ALL THAT MUCH, IF YOU GET MY
DRIFT. BACK THE HELL OFF AND REALIZE THAT FOR SOME PEOPLE, NO MEANS
PRECISELY THAT: NO!
Phew. I feel better now.
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--- There̢۪s really nothing quite
--- There̢۪s really nothing quite like getting back to your regularly
scheduled programming after a week on the beach. It̢۪s one of the
hardest things a person can do. Logy is the word that describes what
I̢۪m feeling right now. But it̢۪s a good logy; it̢۪s not a I
hate my life and everyone in it, so I̢۪m just going to sit on the
sofa, watch TV and pretend I don̢۪t exist because my life is shit logy. It̢۪s a I feel good
logy; my body is calm (and tan); my mind feels clean, like it̢۪s had a
good, gentle detailing at the expensive car wash and someone̢۪s used a
Q-tip to clean the gunk out of the crevices in my gray matter. I feel
better, and I suppose if that̢۪s the goal of a good vacation---to be
relaxed when you come home---then this vacation was a success. I
don̢۪t know if I can get it across, but for me the beach is probably
the most relaxing place I can go. Some people love mountains; some love
deserts; some love camping in the forest (why, I have no idea, but
I’m not going to begrudge someone the “joy†of camping because I
can̢۪t comprehend it); some enjoy the bristling hubbub of foreign
cities; for me, however, it̢۪s the beach. I̢۪m assuming my parents̢۪
choices in vacations as I was growing up have something to do with my
preferences in this matter, but the why
is irrelevant. I simply love expanses of sand, sea and sun. It̢۪s
probably because I grew up in Nebraska, stuck on the plains during my
adolescence, but the combination of the three is a heady elixir; it̢۪s
the stuff I need when I get stressed out. There is really nothing quite
as refreshing to my soul as watching the waves crash on the beach,
sniffing the warm, moist salt air, feeling the hot sun transforming the
color of my skin while I dig huge holes in the white sand with my toes.
It doesn̢۪t hurt to have a beer in your hand, either, while doing
nothing on the beach. I know. I know. You̢۪re thinking why does a haus
frau/unpublished novelist need a vacation? She
doesn̢۪t do anything all damn day long but type irrelevant shit on
this blog and iron the husband̢۪s shirts. Why should she get to go to
the beach while I sit here in my cubicle, massively frustrated and
underpaid, and do actual work. I have no answer for you,
unfortunately. I, too, was in your situation a few years back,
wondering why one of my housewife customers got a whole month in the
Bahamas when it didn̢۪t seem like she did anything but shop at the
pricey stores and cart her kids around. I wondered at the injustice of
it until she told me her husband had a job that required him to travel
forty-eight weeks a year and that this was her treat from him for
keeping all the balls of their life in the air when he was gone. Then I
decided that she deserved a month with no children nipping at her heels
at a pricey resort on Paradise Island. You see, for all the things you do know about me, there are
many you don̢۪t, simply because I haven̢۪t shared them. And I̢۪m not
planning to, either. Suffice it to say, however, it̢۪s been a rough
year. The husband̢۪s and my life took a big ol̢۪ dive into the toilet
bowl in mid-February and has been circling ever since. I am finally
willing to admit I̢۪ve been in a slump for a while now; my doctor said
so in July, tried to prescribe something for it, but I didn̢۪t want to
think drugs could solve the problem. I̢۪m tough. I̢۪m strong. If you
can dish it out, chances are I can probably take it without too much of
a fuss. It would get better just as soon asâ€Â¦ the problem du
jour passed. Well, it hasn̢۪t gotten better. It hasn̢۪t gotten worse,
either, it̢۪s just been holding steady and I̢۪ve been stuck in the
doldrums, trying to find my way out of that dreadful place without the
help of Mother Pharmaceutical. I think the beach finally did it: I feel
better now. I can see now how badly I needed to get away from it all,
and what seemed like an eternity spent with my parents before I left,
in all actuality turned out to be too short. Last Thursday I found
myself wishing it didn̢۪t cost $100 to change my plane ticket to allow
for a few more days on the beach. But I boarded the planes on Friday,
anyway, arrived at home and was glad for it. We̢۪ll have to see if
this new and improved me holds up. I hope it does. I have a feeling the
whiny, self-obsessed me hasn̢۪t been impressing anyone. --- As far as
the details of the trip are concerned, well, there aren̢۪t that many
of them. I barely did anything other than sit on the beach, miss the
husband, read and go for the occasional dip in the sea while I wondered
if we were really going to get a Cubbie-Red Sox World Series or if
they̢۪d both choke, as usual. Instead, I̢۪ll describe the situation,
the place and other assorted tidbits to keep you from surfing your
daily allotment of Asian lesbians, hard at work.
My folks rent out a condo in Northern Florida every year for the month
of October. It̢۪s still warm then, though, technically speaking,
it̢۪s off-season, hence the condo is cheaper, and the beaches are
relatively empty. The spot they prefer to take this month-long breather
is on the Emerald Coast, in between Pensacola and Panama City on the
panhandle, in a town called Ft. Walton Beach. You might also know of
the area because of its nickname: the Redneck Riviera---and there̢۪s a
reason for that, but I̢۪ll get to it soon enough. Those of you in the
military will be familiar with Ft. Walton, as it̢۪s the home of Eglin
Air Force Base and Hurlburt Field---the home of the Special Forces Air
Operations---is just down the road in Mary Esther. Also, Pensacola
Naval Station is just forty or so miles away, so there̢۪s a fair
chance you̢۪ll see a carrier group out in the Gulf, performing
training activities. It̢۪s also not usual to see C-130 troop
transports flying over the Gulf; nor is it to see military helicopters
flying right over you as you sit on the beach. (But damnit, there
weren̢۪t any Blackhawks this time around: those things are cool!
Alas, they were elsewhere and that̢۪s probably just as well.) It̢۪s
not hard to remember the military is one of the main reasons for the
relative prosperity of this area; in fact, it̢۪s kind of hard to
ignore, particularly when you see Navy frogmen descending stealthily
from helicopters in the middle of the night, as part of a training
exercise. It̢۪s a gorgeous area: the beaches are comprised of a sand
so white it hurts your eyes to look at it under the sun, the sea is a
clear, Caribbean green, and the combination is smashing. Particularly
when it̢۪s free and clear of the annoying detritus of Atlanta yuppies,
who are just down for a quick weekend of drinking on the beach and
hitting the titty bars in the off-hours. The beaches are clean;
there̢۪s no annoying tar from off-shore oil rigs floating up to
besmirch your skin and swimsuit when you take a dip in the sea, like on
South Padre Island. The people are friendly. This time of year you have
a combination of snowbirds and families, taking their “fall breakâ€
in a warmer climate than where they live. And best of all, it̢۪s
pretty darn cheap. This ain̢۪t Orlando, in fact, it̢۪s better:
there̢۪s not a Mouse to be found around Ft. Walton, but as in any
situation, there are trade-offs to be made, but I̢۪ll get to that a
bit later. My family has been traveling to Ft. Walton for
years---partly for vacations and partly to visit extended family.
It̢۪s kind of a convoluted tale so I̢۪ll try to sum up quickly. My
mother had two sisters who were respectively thirteen and ten years
older than she. Sadly, they̢۪re both gone now, but they were both
married to military men. My eldest auntie, MH, was married to an Air
Force man, and he was stationed at Eglin right after WWII. As a result,
my mother̢۪s first trip to visit her sister in Ft. Walton was in 1948,
when she was sixteen. Brave girl that she was, she traveled solo on the
train from Omaha all the way down to Mobile and caught a bus that would
take her the seventy or so miles to Ft. Walton. She̢۪s never forgotten
that trip; it̢۪s memorable for reasons I will probably divulge
sometime down the line, but the beauty of the place struck her and
she̢۪s loved it ever since. Mom̢۪s other sister, B., lived in Omaha
for quite some time, but she and her military husband decided to retire
in Ft. Walton, partly because MH and her husband still lived there and
partly because she, too, loved it. It̢۪s probably the only place other
than Omaha and rural Nebraska that my family has serious roots. The
folks like to keep those roots going, despite the change in familial
circumstance, and it seems my siblings have followed the trend. I̢۪m
the third one who̢۪s vacationed there this year: the other two had a
grand time during the summer, when they could travel there and not have
to pull the kids out of school to do so. Ft. Walton in itself is an
interesting little town. It̢۪s part tourist claptrap, part redneck
haven, part base town, and part small town: the contrast is sharp
everywhere you drive. I have a tendency to stick by the beach, because
that̢۪s where I know where everything is. If I need to go to the
grocery store to buy some wine (No blue laws---hallelujah! I always
seem to forget that other states---duh---allow you to buy booze after 8
and on Sundays), I know to take a left, go over the bridge and the
supermarket is right at the base of it, but the folks know how to get
around down there without getting lost (for the most part). As such,
they take you around town and the contrast can be either striking or
mild, depending upon which part of town you̢۪re in and how many days
you̢۪re fresh off the plane. I suppose Ft. Walton̢۪s major problem is
that they don̢۪t have any zoning laws. I know. Pick your jaw up off
the floor. According to my father, who had it from my uncle who lived
there for twenty years, there̢۪s not a single zoning restriction on
the books, so you̢۪re just as liable to see a bingo parlor that caters
to vacationing grannies parked right next to a church, which is parked
right next to a fishmonger which is right next to a strip club. It̢۪s
quite striking when you come from the extremely tidy Twin Cities to see
all of this action, and no one really objecting to the action in the
first place: it̢۪s the way things are. Unfortunately, the lack of
zoning action is also why Ft. Walton is lumped into the Redneck Riviera
description of northern Florida: the people like it that way, I
suppose. Mullets are big in northern Florida, and no I̢۪m not talking
about the fish, I̢۪m referring to the haircut. The fancy grocery store
which peddles expensive wine also has a sign on the door that states it
accepts WIC vouchers. Everyone smokes except for the
tourists. Bellies are big and liable to droop over the waistbands,
belches fly, toothpicks dangle, and thick southern accents flavor the
air wherever you go. Except on the beach. It̢۪s easy to ignore the
rednecks when you̢۪re on the beach because they̢۪re not there. It̢۪s
only when you venture off the island where the condo resides that
you̢۪re confronted with the unappealing aesthetics of Ft. Walton.
There are people—mainly from northern states or Canada---who stay at
the same resort as my parents who I know for a fact stay the heck away
from town as much as possible, preferring their island retreat to being
confronted with the locals. I consider this to be a huge shame because
most of the locals are wonderful people. They̢۪re really nice;
they̢۪re very chatty and friendly and more than willing to help you
out should you need it. It̢۪s sometimes a little too surprising at how
friendly the people are, particularly when you live in Cake Eater Land,
where people rarely say ‘hello’ as they pass each other on the
street, and store clerks are just as likely to sneer at you as they are
to actually do their job. But, fortunately, the folks in Ft. Walton are
savvy enough to realize that perhaps everyone isn̢۪t used to their
particular brand of friendliness, so they̢۪ll cut you some slack
rather than being offended your jaw dropped to the floor when they
asked you---sincerely---if you were having a good day. If you really
wanted to look at it in a big-picture sort of way, perhaps they̢۪ve
got it right: it doesn̢۪t matter what kind of possessions you̢۪ve got
or how nice your town looks: if you̢۪ve got friendly people, who cares
if the paint̢۪s peeling or if there̢۪s a shingle that̢۪s ready to
fly? It̢۪ll get done when they̢۪re good and ready to do it; it̢۪s
much more interesting to chat instead. After a few days, you become
accustomed to everyone chatting with you, and you begin to chat back
and not feel like an idiot for doing so. You stop going into town and
sighing at the claptrap-iness of it. You stop wishing they̢۪d fix
things up a little better so you could recommend the place to your
friends up north. You don̢۪t travel fifteen miles down the coast, to
Destin, to hang out with the cool people in a town with zoning laws. In
other words, you find yourself accustomed to and enjoying the
shabbiness. You start to enjoy this distinct little slice of life that
you̢۪ve opened yourself up to by visiting and realize that maybe your
standards are just a little too high; that maybe taking it easy,
sitting back and getting to know people, even if it is just over the
purchase of a bottle of water and some sunscreen, isn̢۪t such a bad
thing to aspire to.
--- About the only annoying thing about this trip was the traveling to
get there. It used to be that I would look forward to the journey as
much as reaching my destination: not so anymore. Flying has been ruined
for me. I don̢۪t know who̢۪s ultimately more responsible for my lack
of enjoyment in air travel, the terrorists or the TSA, but I can tell
you who̢۪s more annoying nowadays: the TSA. I realize they̢۪re just
doing the job they were assigned, but honestly, does pulling me over
every time my bracelet (At LAX it was my wedding ring) or my underwire
bra causes the metal detector to beep---loudly---make anyone in this
country feel safer? I know I don̢۪t feel any safer. Particularly not
when I read stories like this one.
I̢۪ve flown more since 9/11 than I did before. Accompanying the
husband on business trips and actually being able to afford airfare in
this Northworst Airlines controlled hub has ramped up the mileage in my
frequent flyer account. But just because I didn̢۪t fly much before
9/11 doesn̢۪t mean I don̢۪t remember how easy flying was in
comparison to now. You could zip through metal detectors, because they
didn̢۪t have them turned up to the most sensitive level where an
underwire bra would set it off, and would result in being felt up which
was no less intrusive because it was done by a female. Your laptop
wasn̢۪t checked for explosive residue. Your shoes and coats stayed on.
You didn̢۪t have to wait in interminable lines to have your boarding
pass and ID checked, and if you didn̢۪t have a boarding pass, you
could actually meet your loved one at the gate instead of at baggage
claim. You didn̢۪t have to show up at the airport two hours in advance
for a domestic flight. No one looked at you suspiciously or subjected
you to extra scrutiny if you grumbled about the long lines or the
monstrous injustice of how freaking long it takes to clear security.
Air travel was easy.
It got you to from point A to point B in the shortest amount of time
possible, and if you̢۪d gotten a cheap fare, well, hell, you thought
you were lucky that you got to hobnob with the bigwig business
travelers who did this on a daily basis and maybe you could pick up
some tips about how to do it better from them.
Now, flying is just an annoying, first level contrivance of Dante̢۪s
inferno. Honestly, I̢۪m getting to the point where I wouldn̢۪t mind
spending more than six hours in a car, driving somewhere, just so I
don̢۪t have deal with putting a lot of thought into how I pack my
suitcase and what I̢۪ll carry onto the plane with me. Driving
somewhere will give me what I like most: options. I like taking too
many clothes with me on a trip, even if it means extra suitcases. I
like having lots of reading material. I like taking a portable CD
player and my CD case with me because then I̢۪ll have music. In short,
I̢۪m my mother̢۪s daughter: I will
take the kitchen sink along if it will fit into my suitcase. At one
point in time I had actually stopped fighting the urge to improve
myself in this regard. This is no longer the case. Flying nowadays
limits my options and forces me to think about this and that̢۪s what I
find the most offensive about all of this. Northworst has taken full
advantage of 9/11 to reduce the number of bags people can bring with
them and how much they weigh. If your one bag---which has things in it
for two people---weighs more than fifty pounds whammo! you̢۪re
busted for $25 for every twenty-five pounds over the standard fifty.
Christ, people, the suitcase alone weighs seven pounds, you̢۪re limiting my options!
You̢۪re telling me to suck it up, I̢۪m sure. That we̢۪re all in this
together; that this is making our skyways safer for everyone involved.
But the truth of the matter is we̢۪re not
in this together, and I have serious doubts about whether the skyways
are, in fact, safer because of all this noosey-nonsense. The airlines
have made a deal with the TSA that someone from first class can skip
the security lines altogether because they̢۪ve paid more for their
ticket: it̢۪s one of the perks nowadays: you not only get a better
seat, better booze and better service, you get less hassle, too, if you
can afford it. The rest of us coach-flyers are pretty much the
equivalent of steerage on the Titanic, stuck belowdecks as the ship
starts sinking. I̢۪ve flown a lot this past year and I have yet to see
someone who̢۪s gotten to skip the lines be subjected to the same
amount of scrutiny as me. In particular, on this last jaunt, one guy at
the airport in Ft. Walton, who̢۪d stood in front of me in the check-in
line, who had a first class ticket and was slobbered on by the counter
attendant, set off the metal detector. Was he pulled out of line to be
subjected to a personal search? No. He was waved through. He was
allowed to go get his bags, and I watched all of this while I was being
searched because my bracelet had, once again, set the metal detector
off. This is not fair.
Nor is all of this scrutiny, in my humble opinion, making any of us
safer. To my mind, it̢۪s about the perception
of safety; the perception that the TSA is actually doing things to make
us safer when we fly, that they̢۪re preventing another 9/11 from
happening. I don̢۪t think they are. The horse is long gone and
the barn door was shut two years ago. All of this hustle and bustle
isn̢۪t going to prevent another 9/11. It might prevent a clumsy
attempt from someone like the shoe bomber, but I have my doubts about
it preventing someone who is very serious and very committed. Yes, the
hijackers made it through security at Boston, Newark and Dulles; the
security was lax, I will agree. But I̢۪ve always been of the mind that
where there is a will, there is a way, and if hijackers really want to
take out another high-rise with another jetliner, they will find a way
to do it, despite the added security the government has added. Like I
said, it̢۪s about perceptions. Screened baggage, searches, and
added scrutiny may make you feel safer when you fly, but they don̢۪t
do anything for me. It̢۪s all a big show. If someone really wants to
hijack another plane, or four, they will find a way to do it,
regardless of whether or not we have these security features in place.
The main problem I suppose I have with all of this is that I didn̢۪t
feel unsafe before 9/11. I wasn’t naïve by any means; I knew
hijackings could happen, but that it was unlikely they would happen on
a non-stop flight to Omaha. It was all a matter of probabilities; of
playing the odds. If you flew to Europe or the Middle East, well, the
chances something might happen to your plane went up. I had no
fairy-tale notions of the security of the planes I flew on that I
needed to be disabused of. Shit happens, in other words. Then again,
I̢۪m different than most people. When a kid falls down a well, I
don̢۪t automatically assume that well needs to be closed up now so it
doesn̢۪t happen again. When there̢۪s a particularly bad car accident,
I don̢۪t automatically go looking for something---anything---to make
sure it doesn̢۪t happen again. Lower
the speed limits; make sure everyone̢۪s car is road-worthy; change the
traffic lights; rework the intersection; sue the hell out of the car
manufacturer to make sure this sort of thing never, ever happens again.
Yes, we can make things better and it is certainly a sad part of our
thinking as human beings that we do not adequately prepare ourselves
for certain situations; that we just hope they won̢۪t happen, or that
we never thought of them in the first place; that it took a horrific
accident to point out the flaws in the system. However, there are
always going to be certain things that are just unavoidable, and I
truly believe we̢۪re kidding ourselves if we think we can safeguard
our lives from anything unpleasant or adverse. Shit happens, in other
words, and while it̢۪s unfair, there̢۪s not a goddamn thing you can
do about it. Life isn̢۪t fair and reacting to that unfairness, just in
an effort to try to counterbalance it, to make sure no one ever has to
go through the pain and suffering ever again is somewhat naïve,
don̢۪t you think? This is the deal with airport security nowadays.
Yes, the security was lax before 9/11. You were just as likely to see a
security guard sleeping as you were to see them doing their jobs. I̢۪m
not going to deny that. Nor is this in anyway meant to imply I think
that shit happened on 9/11; that all of those poor people deserved to
die and that we shouldn̢۪t do anything about it in the meanwhile. But
we have gone overboard.
Completely overboard in terms of airport security. I wouldn̢۪t have a
problem if I actually felt safer, but like I said above, it̢۪s all for
show. We̢۪re doing something, so come and fly again, the skies are friendly again.
I don̢۪t feel safer because I, who have never even seen a plastic
explosive in real life, have to have my laptop checked to make sure
it̢۪s not filled with it; that there are actual innards inside as
opposed to a chunk of C-4 that will take the entire plane out. I
don̢۪t know where to start on making it better. But something has got
to be done. If the airlines were worried that people wouldn̢۪t fly
without better security, they should now be equally worried that people
will not fly because they don̢۪t want to have to deal with the hassle
of it all.
scheduled programming after a week on the beach. It̢۪s one of the
hardest things a person can do. Logy is the word that describes what
I̢۪m feeling right now. But it̢۪s a good logy; it̢۪s not a I
hate my life and everyone in it, so I̢۪m just going to sit on the
sofa, watch TV and pretend I don̢۪t exist because my life is shit logy. It̢۪s a I feel good
logy; my body is calm (and tan); my mind feels clean, like it̢۪s had a
good, gentle detailing at the expensive car wash and someone̢۪s used a
Q-tip to clean the gunk out of the crevices in my gray matter. I feel
better, and I suppose if that̢۪s the goal of a good vacation---to be
relaxed when you come home---then this vacation was a success. I
don̢۪t know if I can get it across, but for me the beach is probably
the most relaxing place I can go. Some people love mountains; some love
deserts; some love camping in the forest (why, I have no idea, but
I’m not going to begrudge someone the “joy†of camping because I
can̢۪t comprehend it); some enjoy the bristling hubbub of foreign
cities; for me, however, it̢۪s the beach. I̢۪m assuming my parents̢۪
choices in vacations as I was growing up have something to do with my
preferences in this matter, but the why
is irrelevant. I simply love expanses of sand, sea and sun. It̢۪s
probably because I grew up in Nebraska, stuck on the plains during my
adolescence, but the combination of the three is a heady elixir; it̢۪s
the stuff I need when I get stressed out. There is really nothing quite
as refreshing to my soul as watching the waves crash on the beach,
sniffing the warm, moist salt air, feeling the hot sun transforming the
color of my skin while I dig huge holes in the white sand with my toes.
It doesn̢۪t hurt to have a beer in your hand, either, while doing
nothing on the beach. I know. I know. You̢۪re thinking why does a haus
frau/unpublished novelist need a vacation? She
doesn̢۪t do anything all damn day long but type irrelevant shit on
this blog and iron the husband̢۪s shirts. Why should she get to go to
the beach while I sit here in my cubicle, massively frustrated and
underpaid, and do actual work. I have no answer for you,
unfortunately. I, too, was in your situation a few years back,
wondering why one of my housewife customers got a whole month in the
Bahamas when it didn̢۪t seem like she did anything but shop at the
pricey stores and cart her kids around. I wondered at the injustice of
it until she told me her husband had a job that required him to travel
forty-eight weeks a year and that this was her treat from him for
keeping all the balls of their life in the air when he was gone. Then I
decided that she deserved a month with no children nipping at her heels
at a pricey resort on Paradise Island. You see, for all the things you do know about me, there are
many you don̢۪t, simply because I haven̢۪t shared them. And I̢۪m not
planning to, either. Suffice it to say, however, it̢۪s been a rough
year. The husband̢۪s and my life took a big ol̢۪ dive into the toilet
bowl in mid-February and has been circling ever since. I am finally
willing to admit I̢۪ve been in a slump for a while now; my doctor said
so in July, tried to prescribe something for it, but I didn̢۪t want to
think drugs could solve the problem. I̢۪m tough. I̢۪m strong. If you
can dish it out, chances are I can probably take it without too much of
a fuss. It would get better just as soon asâ€Â¦ the problem du
jour passed. Well, it hasn̢۪t gotten better. It hasn̢۪t gotten worse,
either, it̢۪s just been holding steady and I̢۪ve been stuck in the
doldrums, trying to find my way out of that dreadful place without the
help of Mother Pharmaceutical. I think the beach finally did it: I feel
better now. I can see now how badly I needed to get away from it all,
and what seemed like an eternity spent with my parents before I left,
in all actuality turned out to be too short. Last Thursday I found
myself wishing it didn̢۪t cost $100 to change my plane ticket to allow
for a few more days on the beach. But I boarded the planes on Friday,
anyway, arrived at home and was glad for it. We̢۪ll have to see if
this new and improved me holds up. I hope it does. I have a feeling the
whiny, self-obsessed me hasn̢۪t been impressing anyone. --- As far as
the details of the trip are concerned, well, there aren̢۪t that many
of them. I barely did anything other than sit on the beach, miss the
husband, read and go for the occasional dip in the sea while I wondered
if we were really going to get a Cubbie-Red Sox World Series or if
they̢۪d both choke, as usual. Instead, I̢۪ll describe the situation,
the place and other assorted tidbits to keep you from surfing your
daily allotment of Asian lesbians, hard at work.
My folks rent out a condo in Northern Florida every year for the month
of October. It̢۪s still warm then, though, technically speaking,
it̢۪s off-season, hence the condo is cheaper, and the beaches are
relatively empty. The spot they prefer to take this month-long breather
is on the Emerald Coast, in between Pensacola and Panama City on the
panhandle, in a town called Ft. Walton Beach. You might also know of
the area because of its nickname: the Redneck Riviera---and there̢۪s a
reason for that, but I̢۪ll get to it soon enough. Those of you in the
military will be familiar with Ft. Walton, as it̢۪s the home of Eglin
Air Force Base and Hurlburt Field---the home of the Special Forces Air
Operations---is just down the road in Mary Esther. Also, Pensacola
Naval Station is just forty or so miles away, so there̢۪s a fair
chance you̢۪ll see a carrier group out in the Gulf, performing
training activities. It̢۪s also not usual to see C-130 troop
transports flying over the Gulf; nor is it to see military helicopters
flying right over you as you sit on the beach. (But damnit, there
weren̢۪t any Blackhawks this time around: those things are cool!
Alas, they were elsewhere and that̢۪s probably just as well.) It̢۪s
not hard to remember the military is one of the main reasons for the
relative prosperity of this area; in fact, it̢۪s kind of hard to
ignore, particularly when you see Navy frogmen descending stealthily
from helicopters in the middle of the night, as part of a training
exercise. It̢۪s a gorgeous area: the beaches are comprised of a sand
so white it hurts your eyes to look at it under the sun, the sea is a
clear, Caribbean green, and the combination is smashing. Particularly
when it̢۪s free and clear of the annoying detritus of Atlanta yuppies,
who are just down for a quick weekend of drinking on the beach and
hitting the titty bars in the off-hours. The beaches are clean;
there̢۪s no annoying tar from off-shore oil rigs floating up to
besmirch your skin and swimsuit when you take a dip in the sea, like on
South Padre Island. The people are friendly. This time of year you have
a combination of snowbirds and families, taking their “fall breakâ€
in a warmer climate than where they live. And best of all, it̢۪s
pretty darn cheap. This ain̢۪t Orlando, in fact, it̢۪s better:
there̢۪s not a Mouse to be found around Ft. Walton, but as in any
situation, there are trade-offs to be made, but I̢۪ll get to that a
bit later. My family has been traveling to Ft. Walton for
years---partly for vacations and partly to visit extended family.
It̢۪s kind of a convoluted tale so I̢۪ll try to sum up quickly. My
mother had two sisters who were respectively thirteen and ten years
older than she. Sadly, they̢۪re both gone now, but they were both
married to military men. My eldest auntie, MH, was married to an Air
Force man, and he was stationed at Eglin right after WWII. As a result,
my mother̢۪s first trip to visit her sister in Ft. Walton was in 1948,
when she was sixteen. Brave girl that she was, she traveled solo on the
train from Omaha all the way down to Mobile and caught a bus that would
take her the seventy or so miles to Ft. Walton. She̢۪s never forgotten
that trip; it̢۪s memorable for reasons I will probably divulge
sometime down the line, but the beauty of the place struck her and
she̢۪s loved it ever since. Mom̢۪s other sister, B., lived in Omaha
for quite some time, but she and her military husband decided to retire
in Ft. Walton, partly because MH and her husband still lived there and
partly because she, too, loved it. It̢۪s probably the only place other
than Omaha and rural Nebraska that my family has serious roots. The
folks like to keep those roots going, despite the change in familial
circumstance, and it seems my siblings have followed the trend. I̢۪m
the third one who̢۪s vacationed there this year: the other two had a
grand time during the summer, when they could travel there and not have
to pull the kids out of school to do so. Ft. Walton in itself is an
interesting little town. It̢۪s part tourist claptrap, part redneck
haven, part base town, and part small town: the contrast is sharp
everywhere you drive. I have a tendency to stick by the beach, because
that̢۪s where I know where everything is. If I need to go to the
grocery store to buy some wine (No blue laws---hallelujah! I always
seem to forget that other states---duh---allow you to buy booze after 8
and on Sundays), I know to take a left, go over the bridge and the
supermarket is right at the base of it, but the folks know how to get
around down there without getting lost (for the most part). As such,
they take you around town and the contrast can be either striking or
mild, depending upon which part of town you̢۪re in and how many days
you̢۪re fresh off the plane. I suppose Ft. Walton̢۪s major problem is
that they don̢۪t have any zoning laws. I know. Pick your jaw up off
the floor. According to my father, who had it from my uncle who lived
there for twenty years, there̢۪s not a single zoning restriction on
the books, so you̢۪re just as liable to see a bingo parlor that caters
to vacationing grannies parked right next to a church, which is parked
right next to a fishmonger which is right next to a strip club. It̢۪s
quite striking when you come from the extremely tidy Twin Cities to see
all of this action, and no one really objecting to the action in the
first place: it̢۪s the way things are. Unfortunately, the lack of
zoning action is also why Ft. Walton is lumped into the Redneck Riviera
description of northern Florida: the people like it that way, I
suppose. Mullets are big in northern Florida, and no I̢۪m not talking
about the fish, I̢۪m referring to the haircut. The fancy grocery store
which peddles expensive wine also has a sign on the door that states it
accepts WIC vouchers. Everyone smokes except for the
tourists. Bellies are big and liable to droop over the waistbands,
belches fly, toothpicks dangle, and thick southern accents flavor the
air wherever you go. Except on the beach. It̢۪s easy to ignore the
rednecks when you̢۪re on the beach because they̢۪re not there. It̢۪s
only when you venture off the island where the condo resides that
you̢۪re confronted with the unappealing aesthetics of Ft. Walton.
There are people—mainly from northern states or Canada---who stay at
the same resort as my parents who I know for a fact stay the heck away
from town as much as possible, preferring their island retreat to being
confronted with the locals. I consider this to be a huge shame because
most of the locals are wonderful people. They̢۪re really nice;
they̢۪re very chatty and friendly and more than willing to help you
out should you need it. It̢۪s sometimes a little too surprising at how
friendly the people are, particularly when you live in Cake Eater Land,
where people rarely say ‘hello’ as they pass each other on the
street, and store clerks are just as likely to sneer at you as they are
to actually do their job. But, fortunately, the folks in Ft. Walton are
savvy enough to realize that perhaps everyone isn̢۪t used to their
particular brand of friendliness, so they̢۪ll cut you some slack
rather than being offended your jaw dropped to the floor when they
asked you---sincerely---if you were having a good day. If you really
wanted to look at it in a big-picture sort of way, perhaps they̢۪ve
got it right: it doesn̢۪t matter what kind of possessions you̢۪ve got
or how nice your town looks: if you̢۪ve got friendly people, who cares
if the paint̢۪s peeling or if there̢۪s a shingle that̢۪s ready to
fly? It̢۪ll get done when they̢۪re good and ready to do it; it̢۪s
much more interesting to chat instead. After a few days, you become
accustomed to everyone chatting with you, and you begin to chat back
and not feel like an idiot for doing so. You stop going into town and
sighing at the claptrap-iness of it. You stop wishing they̢۪d fix
things up a little better so you could recommend the place to your
friends up north. You don̢۪t travel fifteen miles down the coast, to
Destin, to hang out with the cool people in a town with zoning laws. In
other words, you find yourself accustomed to and enjoying the
shabbiness. You start to enjoy this distinct little slice of life that
you̢۪ve opened yourself up to by visiting and realize that maybe your
standards are just a little too high; that maybe taking it easy,
sitting back and getting to know people, even if it is just over the
purchase of a bottle of water and some sunscreen, isn̢۪t such a bad
thing to aspire to.
--- About the only annoying thing about this trip was the traveling to
get there. It used to be that I would look forward to the journey as
much as reaching my destination: not so anymore. Flying has been ruined
for me. I don̢۪t know who̢۪s ultimately more responsible for my lack
of enjoyment in air travel, the terrorists or the TSA, but I can tell
you who̢۪s more annoying nowadays: the TSA. I realize they̢۪re just
doing the job they were assigned, but honestly, does pulling me over
every time my bracelet (At LAX it was my wedding ring) or my underwire
bra causes the metal detector to beep---loudly---make anyone in this
country feel safer? I know I don̢۪t feel any safer. Particularly not
when I read stories like this one.
I̢۪ve flown more since 9/11 than I did before. Accompanying the
husband on business trips and actually being able to afford airfare in
this Northworst Airlines controlled hub has ramped up the mileage in my
frequent flyer account. But just because I didn̢۪t fly much before
9/11 doesn̢۪t mean I don̢۪t remember how easy flying was in
comparison to now. You could zip through metal detectors, because they
didn̢۪t have them turned up to the most sensitive level where an
underwire bra would set it off, and would result in being felt up which
was no less intrusive because it was done by a female. Your laptop
wasn̢۪t checked for explosive residue. Your shoes and coats stayed on.
You didn̢۪t have to wait in interminable lines to have your boarding
pass and ID checked, and if you didn̢۪t have a boarding pass, you
could actually meet your loved one at the gate instead of at baggage
claim. You didn̢۪t have to show up at the airport two hours in advance
for a domestic flight. No one looked at you suspiciously or subjected
you to extra scrutiny if you grumbled about the long lines or the
monstrous injustice of how freaking long it takes to clear security.
Air travel was easy.
It got you to from point A to point B in the shortest amount of time
possible, and if you̢۪d gotten a cheap fare, well, hell, you thought
you were lucky that you got to hobnob with the bigwig business
travelers who did this on a daily basis and maybe you could pick up
some tips about how to do it better from them.
Now, flying is just an annoying, first level contrivance of Dante̢۪s
inferno. Honestly, I̢۪m getting to the point where I wouldn̢۪t mind
spending more than six hours in a car, driving somewhere, just so I
don̢۪t have deal with putting a lot of thought into how I pack my
suitcase and what I̢۪ll carry onto the plane with me. Driving
somewhere will give me what I like most: options. I like taking too
many clothes with me on a trip, even if it means extra suitcases. I
like having lots of reading material. I like taking a portable CD
player and my CD case with me because then I̢۪ll have music. In short,
I̢۪m my mother̢۪s daughter: I will
take the kitchen sink along if it will fit into my suitcase. At one
point in time I had actually stopped fighting the urge to improve
myself in this regard. This is no longer the case. Flying nowadays
limits my options and forces me to think about this and that̢۪s what I
find the most offensive about all of this. Northworst has taken full
advantage of 9/11 to reduce the number of bags people can bring with
them and how much they weigh. If your one bag---which has things in it
for two people---weighs more than fifty pounds whammo! you̢۪re
busted for $25 for every twenty-five pounds over the standard fifty.
Christ, people, the suitcase alone weighs seven pounds, you̢۪re limiting my options!
You̢۪re telling me to suck it up, I̢۪m sure. That we̢۪re all in this
together; that this is making our skyways safer for everyone involved.
But the truth of the matter is we̢۪re not
in this together, and I have serious doubts about whether the skyways
are, in fact, safer because of all this noosey-nonsense. The airlines
have made a deal with the TSA that someone from first class can skip
the security lines altogether because they̢۪ve paid more for their
ticket: it̢۪s one of the perks nowadays: you not only get a better
seat, better booze and better service, you get less hassle, too, if you
can afford it. The rest of us coach-flyers are pretty much the
equivalent of steerage on the Titanic, stuck belowdecks as the ship
starts sinking. I̢۪ve flown a lot this past year and I have yet to see
someone who̢۪s gotten to skip the lines be subjected to the same
amount of scrutiny as me. In particular, on this last jaunt, one guy at
the airport in Ft. Walton, who̢۪d stood in front of me in the check-in
line, who had a first class ticket and was slobbered on by the counter
attendant, set off the metal detector. Was he pulled out of line to be
subjected to a personal search? No. He was waved through. He was
allowed to go get his bags, and I watched all of this while I was being
searched because my bracelet had, once again, set the metal detector
off. This is not fair.
Nor is all of this scrutiny, in my humble opinion, making any of us
safer. To my mind, it̢۪s about the perception
of safety; the perception that the TSA is actually doing things to make
us safer when we fly, that they̢۪re preventing another 9/11 from
happening. I don̢۪t think they are. The horse is long gone and
the barn door was shut two years ago. All of this hustle and bustle
isn̢۪t going to prevent another 9/11. It might prevent a clumsy
attempt from someone like the shoe bomber, but I have my doubts about
it preventing someone who is very serious and very committed. Yes, the
hijackers made it through security at Boston, Newark and Dulles; the
security was lax, I will agree. But I̢۪ve always been of the mind that
where there is a will, there is a way, and if hijackers really want to
take out another high-rise with another jetliner, they will find a way
to do it, despite the added security the government has added. Like I
said, it̢۪s about perceptions. Screened baggage, searches, and
added scrutiny may make you feel safer when you fly, but they don̢۪t
do anything for me. It̢۪s all a big show. If someone really wants to
hijack another plane, or four, they will find a way to do it,
regardless of whether or not we have these security features in place.
The main problem I suppose I have with all of this is that I didn̢۪t
feel unsafe before 9/11. I wasn’t naïve by any means; I knew
hijackings could happen, but that it was unlikely they would happen on
a non-stop flight to Omaha. It was all a matter of probabilities; of
playing the odds. If you flew to Europe or the Middle East, well, the
chances something might happen to your plane went up. I had no
fairy-tale notions of the security of the planes I flew on that I
needed to be disabused of. Shit happens, in other words. Then again,
I̢۪m different than most people. When a kid falls down a well, I
don̢۪t automatically assume that well needs to be closed up now so it
doesn̢۪t happen again. When there̢۪s a particularly bad car accident,
I don̢۪t automatically go looking for something---anything---to make
sure it doesn̢۪t happen again. Lower
the speed limits; make sure everyone̢۪s car is road-worthy; change the
traffic lights; rework the intersection; sue the hell out of the car
manufacturer to make sure this sort of thing never, ever happens again.
Yes, we can make things better and it is certainly a sad part of our
thinking as human beings that we do not adequately prepare ourselves
for certain situations; that we just hope they won̢۪t happen, or that
we never thought of them in the first place; that it took a horrific
accident to point out the flaws in the system. However, there are
always going to be certain things that are just unavoidable, and I
truly believe we̢۪re kidding ourselves if we think we can safeguard
our lives from anything unpleasant or adverse. Shit happens, in other
words, and while it̢۪s unfair, there̢۪s not a goddamn thing you can
do about it. Life isn̢۪t fair and reacting to that unfairness, just in
an effort to try to counterbalance it, to make sure no one ever has to
go through the pain and suffering ever again is somewhat naïve,
don̢۪t you think? This is the deal with airport security nowadays.
Yes, the security was lax before 9/11. You were just as likely to see a
security guard sleeping as you were to see them doing their jobs. I̢۪m
not going to deny that. Nor is this in anyway meant to imply I think
that shit happened on 9/11; that all of those poor people deserved to
die and that we shouldn̢۪t do anything about it in the meanwhile. But
we have gone overboard.
Completely overboard in terms of airport security. I wouldn̢۪t have a
problem if I actually felt safer, but like I said above, it̢۪s all for
show. We̢۪re doing something, so come and fly again, the skies are friendly again.
I don̢۪t feel safer because I, who have never even seen a plastic
explosive in real life, have to have my laptop checked to make sure
it̢۪s not filled with it; that there are actual innards inside as
opposed to a chunk of C-4 that will take the entire plane out. I
don̢۪t know where to start on making it better. But something has got
to be done. If the airlines were worried that people wouldn̢۪t fly
without better security, they should now be equally worried that people
will not fly because they don̢۪t want to have to deal with the hassle
of it all.
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--- And your fearless leader
--- And your fearless leader bestows upon her readers a new feature called Literature in Advertising.
The Cake Eater Mother will tell you that once upon a time, I was the
kid who talked through TV shows and shut the heck up when the ads came
on. She generally does this to remind me of what an idiot I was back
then. She was right. I was an idiotâ€Â¦back then.
If I had channeled my love of advertising, I would have gotten a
marketing degree in college and I could have parlayed that into a
career as a media commentator and could be making much bigger bucks
than I am now. I didn̢۪t though, so you have to suffer through this,
rather than a paying audience. I̢۪m flipping through Forbes and there̢۪s this fold-out IBM ad and it piques my interest. What Bartlebly the Scrivener can teach you about Bob the sales guy. Can you see it?
They̢۪ve hooked me: I know who Bartleby the Scrivener is. He̢۪s the
protagonist of a short story by Herman Melville that was published in
the mid-19th century. The official title is: Bartleby the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street.
This was one of the few stapes of my American Lit class in high school
that I actually enjoyed, other than James Fenimore Cooper and Nathaniel
Hawthorne and I remember it well. So, the ad piques my interest and
I̢۪m not really doing anything at the moment, other than sitting in
the bathroom, catching up on my reading, so I̢۪ll flip the page and
read further. (Hint to the husband and Chief Technology Purchaser for
the Cake Eater Office: if I had a scanner, I wouldn̢۪t have to keep
typing this shit out when I find an interesting ad I want to chat
about.)
You may remember the 1853 Herman Melville story about a clerk named
Bartleby. One day he simply refused to do what was asked of him. “I
would prefer not to,†he replied, to that request and all the
subsequent ones. This stance confounded his boss, alienated his
coworkers and, needless to say, was bad for business.
Ok, so that much they̢۪ve got correct. I̢۪ll give them that. It̢۪s the next bit I find hysterically funny.
It̢۪s what we call the human factor. And it̢۪s critical to your
success. All the mission statements and whiz-bang new processes in the
world ain̢۪t gonna fly if you don̢۪t get Bob the regional sales V.P.,
Doris in Accounting and everyone else to buy in. On demand business is
about new thinking. It̢۪s about honing your company̢۪s ability to
sense things faster---when pink raincoats are selling like hotcakes for
instance---and respond faster. More raincoats, now. (A month from now
is too late.) It̢۪s about flattening your organization so decisions
can be made on the spot. That means getting the right information to
the people who can act on it---whether it̢۪s Bob on the front lines,
Doris in the back office, a vendor across town or a partner across the
country.
Most critically, though, it̢۪s about those people. How do you get them
to work in new ways, embrace new practices, align themselves with new
goals? What kind of carrot do you offer Bob to get him to work as part
of a cross-regional team? How do you get Doris to input data in a new
way? What̢۪s the best way to train partners and vendors to work more
like in-house employees?
A brilliant strategy is a brilliant beginning. Making sure your Bobs
don̢۪t become Bartleby̢۪s is where the rubber meets the road.
On demand business starts with on demand thinking.We have over
3,500 specialists dedicated solely to change management. Surprised?
IBM̢۪s capabilities are unique: we provide real insight into corporate
transformation, coupled with deep experience in every industry and the
ability to implement change on the ground. (Hey, we know this
stuff---we̢۪ve done it in-house.) Making sure your people work
together---that̢۪s on demand business. Get there with on demand
peopleâ€Â¦.â€
You can check out their website here.
Not coincidentally, Bartleby.com is named after the Bartleby of the
story, who was an astute, intelligent, and diligent young scribe,
punctilious to a fault---good characteristics for a scribe---or for a
research project that wanted to start up the on-line reference library
Bartleby.com has become. So, it shouldn̢۪t be ironic that Bartleby.com
is precisely the first place I would go to find a copy of the story,
but it isâ€Â¦a tad, anyway. You can find the story here.
Now, this service IBM is shilling with this ad is also the same line of
work that the husband does. He̢۪s an IT strategy guy: he also tells
people how to change the way they do business from a top-down approach,
rather than just from a here̢۪s
what this massively overpriced, top-heavy, poorly programmed software,
that, not coincidentally I̢۪m receiving a kickback for every company I
sell this junk to, can do for your company approach. The
husband̢۪s hook, generally, is that his client companies don̢۪t need
all of this software: they can make do with cheaper variants that will
not only do the job, they will do it better than the overpriced, poorly
programmed variants software companies sell. Nor does he ever receive
kickbacks from any software company he recommends: he thinks it̢۪s an
unethical practice.
The only difference between IBM and the husband: the size of his
company is not exactly the same size as IBM, and he̢۪s not likely to
quote Bartleby the Scrivener in an effort to bring in new customers. The Art of War
perhaps, but not anything written by Herman Melville. And he̢۪s
not—obviously---going to recommend only IBM endorsed software
solutions. So, the point I̢۪m laboring to make is that I know
something about this area of IT expertise. Not as much as the husband,
mind you, but as I listen to what he has to say, I have picked a few
things up. (If you̢۪re interested, go and check out the husband̢۪s
company̢۪s site here. )
Now, why do I find this hysterically funny? It̢۪s fairly obvious that
whomever was behind this ad remembered only the part of the story about
how Bartleby refused to do any work by using the overly polite refusal,
“I prefer not to,†and forgot the rest of the story. Now, Bartleby
was a stickler for not doing anything he didn̢۪t want to---and after
his employer got tired of his piquancy, his ass was fired. His
employer, however, could never seem to get rid of him. When he told
Bartleby to clear out, Bartleby refused. He moved his offices; Bartleby
followed him. And on and on until Bartleby was thrown into jail for
vagrancy and died there, alone and afraid to move. As Mrs. Lehnhoff, my
American Lit teacher from so long ago would tell you that the key to
understanding the underlying meaning of the story is right there in the
title line: A Story of Wall-street.
Bartleby did not like change, so he built walls. He did all of his work
behind a screen---one sort of wall. He would not tell anyone who he
was, where he was from or any of the relative information that gives
people a clue to who we are as human beings: he built a wall to protect
himself. The story takes place on Wall Street. He dies in a prison,
curled up next to a wall. Bartleby had closed himself off; he had built
walls. His inertia was so great, not even death could change his habit
of building walls, it seemed. So, I find it funny that IBM, of all
companies, would use Bartleby as a prod for hiring them. You don̢۪t want your employees turning into Bartleby, do you?
Nevermind the fact that IBM, with all of their middle managers in
yellow oxford cloth button downs, was the corporate embodiment of
Bartleby for so long. But hey, that̢۪s ok, they say---we̢۪ve already learned that lesson, we can help you to learn it as well.
Bwahahahahaha. Ok, so IBM has made strides in this area. I̢۪m not
going to deny that, but it̢۪s still funny, given the fact it̢۪s IBM
offering this up as a reason why companies should come to them for
their strategy. Don̢۪t kid yourselves: IBM hasn̢۪t changed all that
much. They̢۪re still one of the largest corporations around and
they̢۪re a dominant force in the industry. And they̢۪ve earned
serious brownie points from the techie community by plugging Linux as
the OS of choice, rather than continuing to be raped by Microsquash.
But if you believe this ad, well, they̢۪ve learned their lesson,
haven̢۪t they? They̢۪ve learned that it̢۪s a bad thing to be a
Bartleby. Nope. They̢۪re just continuing their hegemony in a
different, more acceptable arena, where you, as a client, will still be
offered their software---and their software only---as the acceptable
solution to your corporate problems. I don̢۪t know if that made any
sense whatsoever. But who cares right? It̢۪s my blog.
--- Another interesting article from Forbes.
The husband is eagerly awaiting November 24th. Forbes
bills it as a “day of revenge for cell phone users.†In case you
hadn̢۪t heard, this is the day your cell phone number becomes yours to
do with as you will. As the result of much congressional and legal
wrangling, this is the day when you will, legally, be able to take your
cell phone number and go to another company for service. There won̢۪t
be any more of this greedy holding of numbers that leaves you stuck
with a crappy cell service provider if you want to keep your cell phone
number. They̢۪ve finally figured it out and come November 24th, you
can have your cake and eat it, too, if you̢۪re a cell phone user. Now,
personally, I detest cell phones. They̢۪re the bane of my existence.
They make my life a hellish experience when I̢۪m driving because
people are too freaking busy blathering on endlessly on them rather
than doing what they̢۪re supposed to be doing---driving their freaking
cars. The Cake Eater community, as you might have guessed, is rather
full of people with cell phones. They can̢۪t live without them; I
daresay they can̢۪t imagine a day when they weren̢۪t connected at all
times and my
God, why wouldn̢۪t you want people to be able to find you anywhere, at
anytime? Jesus, that̢۪s what makes my life worth living! I must be
available to everyone, all the time, or I would just drop dead for lack
of activity in my life! So what if I forget to use my turn signal or
slide halfway over into your lane while I̢۪m doing so, I must be able
to chat and it̢۪s not that distracting. I get where I̢۪m going, don̢۪t I? It can̢۪t possibly be as bad as you̢۪re making it out to be,
says the overpriced Cake Eater Trophy Wife as she slurps down her Vente
skinny, sugar-free vanilla, no froth, latte, her big blue eyes wide and
as innocent as a baby̢۪s. Now, I know a lot of people have cell phones
for emergencies. Parents give them to their kids so they can keep track
of them (there̢۪s a whole different rant, for a different
day---teenagers with cell phones! Ugh!). The husband has one and uses
it as his work phone, so I̢۪m not completely unaware that there are
good uses for cell phones, but sheesh. Most people don̢۪t need them. I
manage to get along just fine without one. I have had them in the past,
I will admit, when I was working. And I will also admit it made my life
easier, but that was for work, you know, when I had
to spend a goodly amount of time on the phone. Why the hell would I
need one now? There̢۪s no need. So I really have a hard time listening
to Cake Eater Wives, who don̢۪t work, and have no conceivable need for
a mobile phone, blather on about how integral their phone is to
keeping their life on track. Ugh.
I don̢۪t want people to be able to get a hold of me at all times.
There are times when I leave the house to do just that: to leave the
house and in particular, the telephone, behind me. To not be bothered
by other people; to go out and be anonymous and it̢۪s rather hard to
achieve anonymity when you̢۪re blabbering on about your life in the
middle of the grocery store. I like the carefree quality of this act:
it means I̢۪m not chained to home other than when I want to lock
myself in. Why don̢۪t people get this? Am I just that much of an
oddity? I don̢۪t know, but none of my issues would keep me from making
money on the people who are all about cell phones. If I had a broker,
I̢۪d probably, on the basis of this article, call them up and say hey,
get me some of that Telcordia stock: it sounds like a good bet. I̢۪d
also buy up some Verizon and T-Mobile stock as well, since they seem to
actually be working under the assumption that number portability is a good thing.
After all, there̢۪s no law against taking advantage of fools, is there?
--- Office Muzak for today.
Now, much to the disgust of Mr. H., who believes that the Dave Matthews Band should be called Dave Matthews: Banned,
I remain a big fan of Dave̢۪s. I like Dave. I like his music: it̢۪s
good. And I particularly like this two CD set. The only time I̢۪ve
ever been able to score tickets to see Dave was on the tour that this
CD was recorded. This was in 1996, in Ames, Iowa. He played Ames right
after this set at Luther College, which is located in Decorah,
Iowa---about a three hour drive from Ames. This concert was where I
heard one of the best replies to a crowd---ever. As was to be expected,
the place was packed with teenage girls who latched onto Dave as their
crush of the month. They kept screaming, Dave, I love you! After many catcalls, he finally replied:
“That exit sign up there just told me it loved me. Now, if only I can find a way in.â€
It̢۪s a great CD set. Good music, a receptive crowd (which was not the
case in Ames the next night, I̢۪m sad to say---the teenagers were more
than a tad rude and it rubbed Dave the wrong way), and a phenomenal
accompanist: Tim Reynolds. This guy is good, and if you̢۪re a fan of
acoustic guitar and all of the wonderful, amazing things that can be
done with one, you will more than appreciate his performance, you will
laud it. He̢۪s as good as any top name guitarist, in fact, he̢۪s
better than most of them. I thought so then, and now that I have the
CD, I̢۪m even more appreciative. --- Office Smell of the Day.
Pure autumnal contentment can be attained by purchasing one of these
candles and firing it up on a rainy, cold day like today. It will make
you less crabby and more appreciative of the quiet autumn can provide.
The smell is simply divine.
The Cake Eater Mother will tell you that once upon a time, I was the
kid who talked through TV shows and shut the heck up when the ads came
on. She generally does this to remind me of what an idiot I was back
then. She was right. I was an idiotâ€Â¦back then.
If I had channeled my love of advertising, I would have gotten a
marketing degree in college and I could have parlayed that into a
career as a media commentator and could be making much bigger bucks
than I am now. I didn̢۪t though, so you have to suffer through this,
rather than a paying audience. I̢۪m flipping through Forbes and there̢۪s this fold-out IBM ad and it piques my interest. What Bartlebly the Scrivener can teach you about Bob the sales guy. Can you see it?
They̢۪ve hooked me: I know who Bartleby the Scrivener is. He̢۪s the
protagonist of a short story by Herman Melville that was published in
the mid-19th century. The official title is: Bartleby the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street.
This was one of the few stapes of my American Lit class in high school
that I actually enjoyed, other than James Fenimore Cooper and Nathaniel
Hawthorne and I remember it well. So, the ad piques my interest and
I̢۪m not really doing anything at the moment, other than sitting in
the bathroom, catching up on my reading, so I̢۪ll flip the page and
read further. (Hint to the husband and Chief Technology Purchaser for
the Cake Eater Office: if I had a scanner, I wouldn̢۪t have to keep
typing this shit out when I find an interesting ad I want to chat
about.)
You may remember the 1853 Herman Melville story about a clerk named
Bartleby. One day he simply refused to do what was asked of him. “I
would prefer not to,†he replied, to that request and all the
subsequent ones. This stance confounded his boss, alienated his
coworkers and, needless to say, was bad for business.
Ok, so that much they̢۪ve got correct. I̢۪ll give them that. It̢۪s the next bit I find hysterically funny.
It̢۪s what we call the human factor. And it̢۪s critical to your
success. All the mission statements and whiz-bang new processes in the
world ain̢۪t gonna fly if you don̢۪t get Bob the regional sales V.P.,
Doris in Accounting and everyone else to buy in. On demand business is
about new thinking. It̢۪s about honing your company̢۪s ability to
sense things faster---when pink raincoats are selling like hotcakes for
instance---and respond faster. More raincoats, now. (A month from now
is too late.) It̢۪s about flattening your organization so decisions
can be made on the spot. That means getting the right information to
the people who can act on it---whether it̢۪s Bob on the front lines,
Doris in the back office, a vendor across town or a partner across the
country.
Most critically, though, it̢۪s about those people. How do you get them
to work in new ways, embrace new practices, align themselves with new
goals? What kind of carrot do you offer Bob to get him to work as part
of a cross-regional team? How do you get Doris to input data in a new
way? What̢۪s the best way to train partners and vendors to work more
like in-house employees?
A brilliant strategy is a brilliant beginning. Making sure your Bobs
don̢۪t become Bartleby̢۪s is where the rubber meets the road.
On demand business starts with on demand thinking.We have over
3,500 specialists dedicated solely to change management. Surprised?
IBM̢۪s capabilities are unique: we provide real insight into corporate
transformation, coupled with deep experience in every industry and the
ability to implement change on the ground. (Hey, we know this
stuff---we̢۪ve done it in-house.) Making sure your people work
together---that̢۪s on demand business. Get there with on demand
peopleâ€Â¦.â€
You can check out their website here.
Not coincidentally, Bartleby.com is named after the Bartleby of the
story, who was an astute, intelligent, and diligent young scribe,
punctilious to a fault---good characteristics for a scribe---or for a
research project that wanted to start up the on-line reference library
Bartleby.com has become. So, it shouldn̢۪t be ironic that Bartleby.com
is precisely the first place I would go to find a copy of the story,
but it isâ€Â¦a tad, anyway. You can find the story here.
Now, this service IBM is shilling with this ad is also the same line of
work that the husband does. He̢۪s an IT strategy guy: he also tells
people how to change the way they do business from a top-down approach,
rather than just from a here̢۪s
what this massively overpriced, top-heavy, poorly programmed software,
that, not coincidentally I̢۪m receiving a kickback for every company I
sell this junk to, can do for your company approach. The
husband̢۪s hook, generally, is that his client companies don̢۪t need
all of this software: they can make do with cheaper variants that will
not only do the job, they will do it better than the overpriced, poorly
programmed variants software companies sell. Nor does he ever receive
kickbacks from any software company he recommends: he thinks it̢۪s an
unethical practice.
The only difference between IBM and the husband: the size of his
company is not exactly the same size as IBM, and he̢۪s not likely to
quote Bartleby the Scrivener in an effort to bring in new customers. The Art of War
perhaps, but not anything written by Herman Melville. And he̢۪s
not—obviously---going to recommend only IBM endorsed software
solutions. So, the point I̢۪m laboring to make is that I know
something about this area of IT expertise. Not as much as the husband,
mind you, but as I listen to what he has to say, I have picked a few
things up. (If you̢۪re interested, go and check out the husband̢۪s
company̢۪s site here. )
Now, why do I find this hysterically funny? It̢۪s fairly obvious that
whomever was behind this ad remembered only the part of the story about
how Bartleby refused to do any work by using the overly polite refusal,
“I prefer not to,†and forgot the rest of the story. Now, Bartleby
was a stickler for not doing anything he didn̢۪t want to---and after
his employer got tired of his piquancy, his ass was fired. His
employer, however, could never seem to get rid of him. When he told
Bartleby to clear out, Bartleby refused. He moved his offices; Bartleby
followed him. And on and on until Bartleby was thrown into jail for
vagrancy and died there, alone and afraid to move. As Mrs. Lehnhoff, my
American Lit teacher from so long ago would tell you that the key to
understanding the underlying meaning of the story is right there in the
title line: A Story of Wall-street.
Bartleby did not like change, so he built walls. He did all of his work
behind a screen---one sort of wall. He would not tell anyone who he
was, where he was from or any of the relative information that gives
people a clue to who we are as human beings: he built a wall to protect
himself. The story takes place on Wall Street. He dies in a prison,
curled up next to a wall. Bartleby had closed himself off; he had built
walls. His inertia was so great, not even death could change his habit
of building walls, it seemed. So, I find it funny that IBM, of all
companies, would use Bartleby as a prod for hiring them. You don̢۪t want your employees turning into Bartleby, do you?
Nevermind the fact that IBM, with all of their middle managers in
yellow oxford cloth button downs, was the corporate embodiment of
Bartleby for so long. But hey, that̢۪s ok, they say---we̢۪ve already learned that lesson, we can help you to learn it as well.
Bwahahahahaha. Ok, so IBM has made strides in this area. I̢۪m not
going to deny that, but it̢۪s still funny, given the fact it̢۪s IBM
offering this up as a reason why companies should come to them for
their strategy. Don̢۪t kid yourselves: IBM hasn̢۪t changed all that
much. They̢۪re still one of the largest corporations around and
they̢۪re a dominant force in the industry. And they̢۪ve earned
serious brownie points from the techie community by plugging Linux as
the OS of choice, rather than continuing to be raped by Microsquash.
But if you believe this ad, well, they̢۪ve learned their lesson,
haven̢۪t they? They̢۪ve learned that it̢۪s a bad thing to be a
Bartleby. Nope. They̢۪re just continuing their hegemony in a
different, more acceptable arena, where you, as a client, will still be
offered their software---and their software only---as the acceptable
solution to your corporate problems. I don̢۪t know if that made any
sense whatsoever. But who cares right? It̢۪s my blog.
--- Another interesting article from Forbes.
The husband is eagerly awaiting November 24th. Forbes
bills it as a “day of revenge for cell phone users.†In case you
hadn̢۪t heard, this is the day your cell phone number becomes yours to
do with as you will. As the result of much congressional and legal
wrangling, this is the day when you will, legally, be able to take your
cell phone number and go to another company for service. There won̢۪t
be any more of this greedy holding of numbers that leaves you stuck
with a crappy cell service provider if you want to keep your cell phone
number. They̢۪ve finally figured it out and come November 24th, you
can have your cake and eat it, too, if you̢۪re a cell phone user. Now,
personally, I detest cell phones. They̢۪re the bane of my existence.
They make my life a hellish experience when I̢۪m driving because
people are too freaking busy blathering on endlessly on them rather
than doing what they̢۪re supposed to be doing---driving their freaking
cars. The Cake Eater community, as you might have guessed, is rather
full of people with cell phones. They can̢۪t live without them; I
daresay they can̢۪t imagine a day when they weren̢۪t connected at all
times and my
God, why wouldn̢۪t you want people to be able to find you anywhere, at
anytime? Jesus, that̢۪s what makes my life worth living! I must be
available to everyone, all the time, or I would just drop dead for lack
of activity in my life! So what if I forget to use my turn signal or
slide halfway over into your lane while I̢۪m doing so, I must be able
to chat and it̢۪s not that distracting. I get where I̢۪m going, don̢۪t I? It can̢۪t possibly be as bad as you̢۪re making it out to be,
says the overpriced Cake Eater Trophy Wife as she slurps down her Vente
skinny, sugar-free vanilla, no froth, latte, her big blue eyes wide and
as innocent as a baby̢۪s. Now, I know a lot of people have cell phones
for emergencies. Parents give them to their kids so they can keep track
of them (there̢۪s a whole different rant, for a different
day---teenagers with cell phones! Ugh!). The husband has one and uses
it as his work phone, so I̢۪m not completely unaware that there are
good uses for cell phones, but sheesh. Most people don̢۪t need them. I
manage to get along just fine without one. I have had them in the past,
I will admit, when I was working. And I will also admit it made my life
easier, but that was for work, you know, when I had
to spend a goodly amount of time on the phone. Why the hell would I
need one now? There̢۪s no need. So I really have a hard time listening
to Cake Eater Wives, who don̢۪t work, and have no conceivable need for
a mobile phone, blather on about how integral their phone is to
keeping their life on track. Ugh.
I don̢۪t want people to be able to get a hold of me at all times.
There are times when I leave the house to do just that: to leave the
house and in particular, the telephone, behind me. To not be bothered
by other people; to go out and be anonymous and it̢۪s rather hard to
achieve anonymity when you̢۪re blabbering on about your life in the
middle of the grocery store. I like the carefree quality of this act:
it means I̢۪m not chained to home other than when I want to lock
myself in. Why don̢۪t people get this? Am I just that much of an
oddity? I don̢۪t know, but none of my issues would keep me from making
money on the people who are all about cell phones. If I had a broker,
I̢۪d probably, on the basis of this article, call them up and say hey,
get me some of that Telcordia stock: it sounds like a good bet. I̢۪d
also buy up some Verizon and T-Mobile stock as well, since they seem to
actually be working under the assumption that number portability is a good thing.
After all, there̢۪s no law against taking advantage of fools, is there?
--- Office Muzak for today.
Now, much to the disgust of Mr. H., who believes that the Dave Matthews Band should be called Dave Matthews: Banned,
I remain a big fan of Dave̢۪s. I like Dave. I like his music: it̢۪s
good. And I particularly like this two CD set. The only time I̢۪ve
ever been able to score tickets to see Dave was on the tour that this
CD was recorded. This was in 1996, in Ames, Iowa. He played Ames right
after this set at Luther College, which is located in Decorah,
Iowa---about a three hour drive from Ames. This concert was where I
heard one of the best replies to a crowd---ever. As was to be expected,
the place was packed with teenage girls who latched onto Dave as their
crush of the month. They kept screaming, Dave, I love you! After many catcalls, he finally replied:
“That exit sign up there just told me it loved me. Now, if only I can find a way in.â€
It̢۪s a great CD set. Good music, a receptive crowd (which was not the
case in Ames the next night, I̢۪m sad to say---the teenagers were more
than a tad rude and it rubbed Dave the wrong way), and a phenomenal
accompanist: Tim Reynolds. This guy is good, and if you̢۪re a fan of
acoustic guitar and all of the wonderful, amazing things that can be
done with one, you will more than appreciate his performance, you will
laud it. He̢۪s as good as any top name guitarist, in fact, he̢۪s
better than most of them. I thought so then, and now that I have the
CD, I̢۪m even more appreciative. --- Office Smell of the Day.
Pure autumnal contentment can be attained by purchasing one of these
candles and firing it up on a rainy, cold day like today. It will make
you less crabby and more appreciative of the quiet autumn can provide.
The smell is simply divine.
Posted by: Kathy at
02:34 PM
| No Comments
| Add Comment
Post contains 2558 words, total size 17 kb.
--- After the Red Sox
--- After the Red Sox blew game seven of the ALCS, I confidently
predicted the ratings would suck for a Yankees/Marlins World Series. I was right.
When I was in Florida, one of my cousins wanted to know why I was
rooting for the Sox. He assumed it had something to do with the Yankees
spanking of the Twinkies in the division playoffs. Not so, I replied. I
could not care less what happens with the Twinkies: the Yankees can
spank them as much as they like, just so long as someone spanks the Yankees when more people are watching.
Have I mentioned how much I despise George Steinbrenner? Probably not,
and I̢۪m not going to get into it now, but I truly believe if there
were such things as pillories nowadays, someone should stuff his fat
head into one so everyone could take a shot. Hell, if nothing else,
think of the entertainment value. However, as there aren̢۪t pillories
anymore, I̢۪ll have to make due with something else---public
humiliation will do, I suppose, and is about the only way I̢۪m ever
going to see George Steinbrenner suffer, and so this ratings
performance report is something of a double-edged sword. Yes,
Steinbrenner̢۪s fat pocketbook will suffer because he won̢۪t make out
like a bandit when it comes time to negotiate with the networks, but
not enough people outside of the New York/Miami markets watched to make
it a truly spectacular spanking. Sigh. I honestly wonder if Tim
Wakefield is sleeping at night, or if that failed pitch is haunting
him. --- There must have been another Democratic Presidential Debate
last night. My homepage is loaded with headlines: Dems Debate Issues
Dems Attack Bush Policy in Iraq
Democrats Debate Excerpts
Democrats Argue They̢۪d Make a Better Leader
Like I said, when they start physically pounding on one another, let me know.
--- Hits the nail right on the head.
The husband spent much Sunday in a very cranky mood. I usually spend
Sunday mornings at the coffee shop down the street with Mr. H. We have
designated this time to catch up on all the stuff that̢۪s happened in
between our incessant emailing. I left at ten. I got home at a quarter
til̢۪ noon, and the husband, who had been in a chipper mood before
I̢۪d taken off, was as crabby as a woman who̢۪s just gone PMS and has
just come to the horrible realization she has no Advil in the house.
You see, he̢۪d made the mistake of watching Fox News Sunday. That̢۪ll
happen. I didn̢۪t watch it, but it seems it was Bill Frist who had set
off the crankiness. He̢۪d been blathering on and it was more partisan
nonsense. You know what I mean, right? The partisan crap that comes out
of the closet a year before an election, to rally the troops, when
before everyone in D.C. has been pandering to the middle other than a
few nutjobs like Tom De Lay or David Bonior. The husband̢۪s main point
was that he was sick of it. Just. Sick. Of. It. And he̢۪s a
conservative, but he doesn̢۪t want to have to listen to someone
hammering home on a point for forever and a day when they̢۪re not
solving the problems that need to be solved. He said a few things that
were highly reminiscent of what Michele wrote. So, technically, this
link̢۪s for him, but it̢۪s for me too. There are two things that need
to be done for anything to make voters feel that they̢۪re not choosing
between the lesser of two evils when they go to the polls.
1. Get rid of the Electoral College. And if you can̢۪t get rid of it,
at least reform it. This is the one thing---more than any other---that
holds us to a two party system, with its dazzling array of free
thinking. (Oooh, sarcasm. My bad) It̢۪s amazing to me that for all the
advanced thinking the framers of the Constitution did do, that they
couldn̢۪t quite seem to imagine a day when there would be more than
two political parties. I could go on all day about this. It̢۪s been
one of my pet peeves since my days as a political science major. I was
hopeful in 2000, that maybe the whole brouhaha in Florida would finally
be the bell for whom the Electoral College tolled, but no. I know,
completely naïve of me, but I honestly thought the Democrats would be
up in arms about a contested election/much legal wrangling/ultimately
decided by the Supreme Court that they would do
something about this system. No, they̢۪d rather have it as a rallying
point to collect campaign contributions than actually do something
about it. Every time someone used They stole the election as a
battle cry, it sounded completely disingenuous because they never did
an effing thing about solving the problem. And, for those of you who
think I̢۪m picking on the Democrats, let me point out the Republicans
have been just as bad about it: there̢۪s plenty of blame to go around.
I̢۪m assuming you all know how the Electoral College works, but in
case you don̢۪t, go here. There are many reasons for why
it̢۪s there to begin with: to dole out legitimacy on the candidate who
comes away with plurality of the popular vote by consolidating votes
and granting the states̢۪ electors to them, whether they won by a
majority or not. Also, in the day and age of harsh post- colonial
conditions, it was hard---and time consuming--- not only to vote, but
to count them, as well, particularly when a good deal of the population
couldn̢۪t read. The Electoral College allowed the government to
approximate and give the presidency to a candidate whether all of the
votes had been tallied or not, which in turn, allowed the government to
keep functioning. It was, also, yet another one of those compromises
the founding fathers made between small states and large ones. It
ensures that states, large and small, had the same amount of clout in a
presidential election. To be fair, the Electoral College also keeps us
from having a mass of political parties like they have in Israel for
example. Israel has so many parties, the Prime Minister to gain the
support needed, has to form many unappealing alliances to be able to
rule. While the framers of the Constitution rejected a parliamentary
paradigm for our political system, it was still the system of democracy
they were most familiar with, and it̢۪s obvious they based the
representative structure of the government on it. They obviously did
not want to have to deal with a mass of parties because they knew the
instability they bring to a government. These were legitimate concerns
back in 1789. I can see why the founders thought the Electoral College
was necessary back then. Foundling democracy, colonies threatening
every other day to up and leave the Union if they didn̢۪t get their
demands which, in turn, threatened the Union as a whole, but I have a
hard time seeing, in this day and age, why it should be necessary now.
Since the presidency is not awarded by a majority, rather by a
plurality, it makes no sense to keep this system on. What purpose does
it serve in this day and age of national media and computers that can
count votes efficiently and effectively (well, except in Palm Beach) to
have the Electoral College? There̢۪s not a one I can think of, quite
frankly. But then again, I̢۪m not a politico: it̢۪s not in my best
interests to have the College, but it̢۪s in their
interest to have one, because it̢۪s basically a grandiose function of
party politics. Political parties choose the electors: the electors
associated with the winning candidate are the ones selected to cast
their votes at the Electoral College. And we all know that political
parties have a vested interest in keeping this thing up and running
because it ensures that any third party candidate that runs for office
winds up splitting the vote: they just hope it happens to the other
side and not theirs. This is what happened with Ross Perot in 1992;
it̢۪s what happened with Ralph Nader in 2000. Those two gentlemen
split up their respective side̢۪s voting block, which ensured that
candidate would not garner enough of the popular vote to gain the
necessary electoral votes and win the College. It̢۪s simple math and
it amazes me that more people don̢۪t realize that if they want their
vote to actually do something, to actually have it reflect what they want
that they need to repeal the Electoral College. I was stunned in 2000
when a friend of mine said they were voting for Nader as a means of
telling the Democratic Party what they wanted to see on a Democratic
platform. It had obviously never occurred to this friend that if they
wanted to see something different, perhaps they should get involved
with the platform committee of their local Democratic party. I pointed
this out to them, gently, and they said no one would listen to them, so
why bother? It was easier to vote for Nader and send a message that
way. I asked them if they understood by that action they would be
lessening Gore̢۪s chances of getting into office.
“Huh?†Was the reply. I explained it to her, she voted for Gore and
while she wasn̢۪t pleased that he didn̢۪t get the presidency, she
confessed she was glad she’d at least done her part for the “right
guy,†as she put it. Anyway, until the Electoral College is repealed,
there̢۪s no point in voting for a third party candidate unless
you̢۪re completely sure they̢۪re going to sweep the election: it̢۪s
just throwing your vote in the garbage if you do. 2. CAMPAIGN FINANCE
REFORM! Enough said. Until these two things are done, I honestly
don̢۪t see how a third party candidate, particularly one with moderate
views, is going to siphon votes from either side and be successful in
the act. And until these two things are done, well, it̢۪s just the big
boys playing up on the Hill, isn̢۪t it? It doesn̢۪t matter whose side
you̢۪re on: unless you̢۪ve got clout, you̢۪re completely forgettable
the day after the election. I̢۪ve reconciled myself to it. Mostly. ---
The weekend was boring here. No movies. Not much leaving of the house.
I̢۪m currently reading this.
Oh, and it̢۪s good, if not a little long-winded. Now, I̢۪m not
normally one to mind long-windedness (har-de-har-har) but there are
times (far and few between I̢۪ll grant) with this book that I feel
like I̢۪m back in high school physics, trying to suss out the meanings
of what̢۪s being described in the dialogue between scientists. I̢۪ve
been reading this since I was on the beach and am just now starting the
second part. I read a while back that the Instapundit himself read this book over a weekend
What the hell?
I̢۪m no dolt, but how, precisely, do you get through a 1000+ page book
in a weekend, while still managing to post about every news story under
the sun, and keeping the wife and kid happy? I would swear that Mr.
Reynolds is a savant. I̢۪m a quick reader, but damn!
There̢۪s no way I̢۪d get through this book in a weekend. Not unless I
read the entire weekend and I suddenly took up crank. Then it might be conceivable, but as my recall is already crapola, what would be the point of that?
--- And I̢۪ll leave off with this as your good news story of the day.
How positively cool that he got his own Red Violin?
predicted the ratings would suck for a Yankees/Marlins World Series. I was right.
When I was in Florida, one of my cousins wanted to know why I was
rooting for the Sox. He assumed it had something to do with the Yankees
spanking of the Twinkies in the division playoffs. Not so, I replied. I
could not care less what happens with the Twinkies: the Yankees can
spank them as much as they like, just so long as someone spanks the Yankees when more people are watching.
Have I mentioned how much I despise George Steinbrenner? Probably not,
and I̢۪m not going to get into it now, but I truly believe if there
were such things as pillories nowadays, someone should stuff his fat
head into one so everyone could take a shot. Hell, if nothing else,
think of the entertainment value. However, as there aren̢۪t pillories
anymore, I̢۪ll have to make due with something else---public
humiliation will do, I suppose, and is about the only way I̢۪m ever
going to see George Steinbrenner suffer, and so this ratings
performance report is something of a double-edged sword. Yes,
Steinbrenner̢۪s fat pocketbook will suffer because he won̢۪t make out
like a bandit when it comes time to negotiate with the networks, but
not enough people outside of the New York/Miami markets watched to make
it a truly spectacular spanking. Sigh. I honestly wonder if Tim
Wakefield is sleeping at night, or if that failed pitch is haunting
him. --- There must have been another Democratic Presidential Debate
last night. My homepage is loaded with headlines: Dems Debate Issues
Dems Attack Bush Policy in Iraq
Democrats Debate Excerpts
Democrats Argue They̢۪d Make a Better Leader
Like I said, when they start physically pounding on one another, let me know.
--- Hits the nail right on the head.
The husband spent much Sunday in a very cranky mood. I usually spend
Sunday mornings at the coffee shop down the street with Mr. H. We have
designated this time to catch up on all the stuff that̢۪s happened in
between our incessant emailing. I left at ten. I got home at a quarter
til̢۪ noon, and the husband, who had been in a chipper mood before
I̢۪d taken off, was as crabby as a woman who̢۪s just gone PMS and has
just come to the horrible realization she has no Advil in the house.
You see, he̢۪d made the mistake of watching Fox News Sunday. That̢۪ll
happen. I didn̢۪t watch it, but it seems it was Bill Frist who had set
off the crankiness. He̢۪d been blathering on and it was more partisan
nonsense. You know what I mean, right? The partisan crap that comes out
of the closet a year before an election, to rally the troops, when
before everyone in D.C. has been pandering to the middle other than a
few nutjobs like Tom De Lay or David Bonior. The husband̢۪s main point
was that he was sick of it. Just. Sick. Of. It. And he̢۪s a
conservative, but he doesn̢۪t want to have to listen to someone
hammering home on a point for forever and a day when they̢۪re not
solving the problems that need to be solved. He said a few things that
were highly reminiscent of what Michele wrote. So, technically, this
link̢۪s for him, but it̢۪s for me too. There are two things that need
to be done for anything to make voters feel that they̢۪re not choosing
between the lesser of two evils when they go to the polls.
1. Get rid of the Electoral College. And if you can̢۪t get rid of it,
at least reform it. This is the one thing---more than any other---that
holds us to a two party system, with its dazzling array of free
thinking. (Oooh, sarcasm. My bad) It̢۪s amazing to me that for all the
advanced thinking the framers of the Constitution did do, that they
couldn̢۪t quite seem to imagine a day when there would be more than
two political parties. I could go on all day about this. It̢۪s been
one of my pet peeves since my days as a political science major. I was
hopeful in 2000, that maybe the whole brouhaha in Florida would finally
be the bell for whom the Electoral College tolled, but no. I know,
completely naïve of me, but I honestly thought the Democrats would be
up in arms about a contested election/much legal wrangling/ultimately
decided by the Supreme Court that they would do
something about this system. No, they̢۪d rather have it as a rallying
point to collect campaign contributions than actually do something
about it. Every time someone used They stole the election as a
battle cry, it sounded completely disingenuous because they never did
an effing thing about solving the problem. And, for those of you who
think I̢۪m picking on the Democrats, let me point out the Republicans
have been just as bad about it: there̢۪s plenty of blame to go around.
I̢۪m assuming you all know how the Electoral College works, but in
case you don̢۪t, go here. There are many reasons for why
it̢۪s there to begin with: to dole out legitimacy on the candidate who
comes away with plurality of the popular vote by consolidating votes
and granting the states̢۪ electors to them, whether they won by a
majority or not. Also, in the day and age of harsh post- colonial
conditions, it was hard---and time consuming--- not only to vote, but
to count them, as well, particularly when a good deal of the population
couldn̢۪t read. The Electoral College allowed the government to
approximate and give the presidency to a candidate whether all of the
votes had been tallied or not, which in turn, allowed the government to
keep functioning. It was, also, yet another one of those compromises
the founding fathers made between small states and large ones. It
ensures that states, large and small, had the same amount of clout in a
presidential election. To be fair, the Electoral College also keeps us
from having a mass of political parties like they have in Israel for
example. Israel has so many parties, the Prime Minister to gain the
support needed, has to form many unappealing alliances to be able to
rule. While the framers of the Constitution rejected a parliamentary
paradigm for our political system, it was still the system of democracy
they were most familiar with, and it̢۪s obvious they based the
representative structure of the government on it. They obviously did
not want to have to deal with a mass of parties because they knew the
instability they bring to a government. These were legitimate concerns
back in 1789. I can see why the founders thought the Electoral College
was necessary back then. Foundling democracy, colonies threatening
every other day to up and leave the Union if they didn̢۪t get their
demands which, in turn, threatened the Union as a whole, but I have a
hard time seeing, in this day and age, why it should be necessary now.
Since the presidency is not awarded by a majority, rather by a
plurality, it makes no sense to keep this system on. What purpose does
it serve in this day and age of national media and computers that can
count votes efficiently and effectively (well, except in Palm Beach) to
have the Electoral College? There̢۪s not a one I can think of, quite
frankly. But then again, I̢۪m not a politico: it̢۪s not in my best
interests to have the College, but it̢۪s in their
interest to have one, because it̢۪s basically a grandiose function of
party politics. Political parties choose the electors: the electors
associated with the winning candidate are the ones selected to cast
their votes at the Electoral College. And we all know that political
parties have a vested interest in keeping this thing up and running
because it ensures that any third party candidate that runs for office
winds up splitting the vote: they just hope it happens to the other
side and not theirs. This is what happened with Ross Perot in 1992;
it̢۪s what happened with Ralph Nader in 2000. Those two gentlemen
split up their respective side̢۪s voting block, which ensured that
candidate would not garner enough of the popular vote to gain the
necessary electoral votes and win the College. It̢۪s simple math and
it amazes me that more people don̢۪t realize that if they want their
vote to actually do something, to actually have it reflect what they want
that they need to repeal the Electoral College. I was stunned in 2000
when a friend of mine said they were voting for Nader as a means of
telling the Democratic Party what they wanted to see on a Democratic
platform. It had obviously never occurred to this friend that if they
wanted to see something different, perhaps they should get involved
with the platform committee of their local Democratic party. I pointed
this out to them, gently, and they said no one would listen to them, so
why bother? It was easier to vote for Nader and send a message that
way. I asked them if they understood by that action they would be
lessening Gore̢۪s chances of getting into office.
“Huh?†Was the reply. I explained it to her, she voted for Gore and
while she wasn̢۪t pleased that he didn̢۪t get the presidency, she
confessed she was glad she’d at least done her part for the “right
guy,†as she put it. Anyway, until the Electoral College is repealed,
there̢۪s no point in voting for a third party candidate unless
you̢۪re completely sure they̢۪re going to sweep the election: it̢۪s
just throwing your vote in the garbage if you do. 2. CAMPAIGN FINANCE
REFORM! Enough said. Until these two things are done, I honestly
don̢۪t see how a third party candidate, particularly one with moderate
views, is going to siphon votes from either side and be successful in
the act. And until these two things are done, well, it̢۪s just the big
boys playing up on the Hill, isn̢۪t it? It doesn̢۪t matter whose side
you̢۪re on: unless you̢۪ve got clout, you̢۪re completely forgettable
the day after the election. I̢۪ve reconciled myself to it. Mostly. ---
The weekend was boring here. No movies. Not much leaving of the house.
I̢۪m currently reading this.
Oh, and it̢۪s good, if not a little long-winded. Now, I̢۪m not
normally one to mind long-windedness (har-de-har-har) but there are
times (far and few between I̢۪ll grant) with this book that I feel
like I̢۪m back in high school physics, trying to suss out the meanings
of what̢۪s being described in the dialogue between scientists. I̢۪ve
been reading this since I was on the beach and am just now starting the
second part. I read a while back that the Instapundit himself read this book over a weekend
What the hell?
I̢۪m no dolt, but how, precisely, do you get through a 1000+ page book
in a weekend, while still managing to post about every news story under
the sun, and keeping the wife and kid happy? I would swear that Mr.
Reynolds is a savant. I̢۪m a quick reader, but damn!
There̢۪s no way I̢۪d get through this book in a weekend. Not unless I
read the entire weekend and I suddenly took up crank. Then it might be conceivable, but as my recall is already crapola, what would be the point of that?
--- And I̢۪ll leave off with this as your good news story of the day.
How positively cool that he got his own Red Violin?
Posted by: Kathy at
02:15 PM
| No Comments
| Add Comment
Post contains 1967 words, total size 13 kb.
(Note: The following is actually
(Note: The following is actually sent by Mr. H and dutifully published by 'The Husband' as per instructions from Kathy.)Well
hello there! Guest Blogger, Mr. H. checking in to the Cake Eater!!!!
Why did Kathleen give me such a great honor? I have been asking myself
the same question. Hmmm. I think she was desperate! I also believe she
didn̢۪t think I had anything to do here at work. Well, to introduce
myself as quickly as possible – 1. I live just two blocks from the
Cake Eater Apartment (They have very good taste – furnishings, food,
etc – It’s always an honor to grace them with my presence!)
2. I have known Kathleen for quite a few years now (Most of the time I
can hear her ranting away while I read)
3. I am 3 months older than her (something she likes to remind me of
– and her day is coming)
4. She seems to think I have something to say!
(Note – Although I do live two blocks from the Apartment, I do not
however, live in the same suburb – my mailing address says
Minneapolis – something I am very, very clear about)
Kathleen – I hope your having a lovely time on the beach!
Okay – I figured I would start with one of those “cute†little
stories that make me giggle
Story here
Please note I DO NOT WANT ONE OF THESE, but it made me laugh. What I
really want to know is how does one become a professional “Mushroom
Hunterâ€. I will assume that is a retirement job.
I repeat – NO CALENDAR FOR MR. H.! Remember my motto: Paybacks are a
b$%&# You do not want to know what kind of retaliatory measures I
am capable of. I spent some time this weekend with my Aunt. She lives
in a small town in Central Minnesota, about 25 minutes from St. Cloud,
where yours truly spent five agonizing years of his life studying. We
decided to venture to that lovely growing community to do our best to
help the economy. (Retail Therapy!) I myself only spent a fraction of
what she did, but it still felt good. This CD was playing as we were
driving from store to store, and resulted in a funny little comment. Aunt - “Is this opera?â€
Mr. H. “Kind of†with a nod
Aunt – “You are so cultured†To which I almost
went in the ditch laughing so hard. Some purists would disagree on its
“classical†scope, but most people who “Hate†opera, have
tended to be interested. I adore Sarah and have loved all of her
previous releases, but this one is AMAZING. So go buy it now, and you
can be cultured as well. (It̢۪s $9 less than when I bought it two
months ago)
Saturday night wound up being movie night. A couple flicks.
About Schmidt
Fun movie, a little slow at parts, but fun anyway. You gotta love Jack!
The hot tub scene killed me ~ it̢۪s worth the rental for that scene
with Kathy Bates alone!
The Hunted
There were parts of this moving that I just didn̢۪t get? It was
interesting, but just a little too much “gore†maybe. There were a
couple of scenes that just went a little too long. If you̢۪re into the
whole knife-fighting thing, you might like it. I̢۪m not really into
the whole military movie thing either, so that might have given me the
bad taste. Tommy Lee Jones is incredible in anything thoughâ€Â¦
Here̢۪s an interesting tid-bit. You̢۪ll notice I̢۪m not picking on
the Vatican, I figured I would give the Episcopal̢۪s a little time.
*(Besides, Kathleen does a good job with them!) I think they are smart
in being progressive, as far as religions go they are, it̢۪s sad that
10-15 years behind corporate America is considered progressive in
religion. I will leave you with my “quote of the week†I think it
kind of sums up religion and politics – "I think Johnnie Byrd would switch to be a Hare Krishna if he thought it would help him get elected U.S. Senator." Florida Democratic Party Chairman Scott Maddox.
Link Here
hello there! Guest Blogger, Mr. H. checking in to the Cake Eater!!!!
Why did Kathleen give me such a great honor? I have been asking myself
the same question. Hmmm. I think she was desperate! I also believe she
didn̢۪t think I had anything to do here at work. Well, to introduce
myself as quickly as possible – 1. I live just two blocks from the
Cake Eater Apartment (They have very good taste – furnishings, food,
etc – It’s always an honor to grace them with my presence!)
2. I have known Kathleen for quite a few years now (Most of the time I
can hear her ranting away while I read)
3. I am 3 months older than her (something she likes to remind me of
– and her day is coming)
4. She seems to think I have something to say!
(Note – Although I do live two blocks from the Apartment, I do not
however, live in the same suburb – my mailing address says
Minneapolis – something I am very, very clear about)
Kathleen – I hope your having a lovely time on the beach!
Okay – I figured I would start with one of those “cute†little
stories that make me giggle
Story here
Please note I DO NOT WANT ONE OF THESE, but it made me laugh. What I
really want to know is how does one become a professional “Mushroom
Hunterâ€. I will assume that is a retirement job.
I repeat – NO CALENDAR FOR MR. H.! Remember my motto: Paybacks are a
b$%&# You do not want to know what kind of retaliatory measures I
am capable of. I spent some time this weekend with my Aunt. She lives
in a small town in Central Minnesota, about 25 minutes from St. Cloud,
where yours truly spent five agonizing years of his life studying. We
decided to venture to that lovely growing community to do our best to
help the economy. (Retail Therapy!) I myself only spent a fraction of
what she did, but it still felt good. This CD was playing as we were
driving from store to store, and resulted in a funny little comment. Aunt - “Is this opera?â€
Mr. H. “Kind of†with a nod
Aunt – “You are so cultured†To which I almost
went in the ditch laughing so hard. Some purists would disagree on its
“classical†scope, but most people who “Hate†opera, have
tended to be interested. I adore Sarah and have loved all of her
previous releases, but this one is AMAZING. So go buy it now, and you
can be cultured as well. (It̢۪s $9 less than when I bought it two
months ago)
Saturday night wound up being movie night. A couple flicks.
About Schmidt
Fun movie, a little slow at parts, but fun anyway. You gotta love Jack!
The hot tub scene killed me ~ it̢۪s worth the rental for that scene
with Kathy Bates alone!
The Hunted
There were parts of this moving that I just didn̢۪t get? It was
interesting, but just a little too much “gore†maybe. There were a
couple of scenes that just went a little too long. If you̢۪re into the
whole knife-fighting thing, you might like it. I̢۪m not really into
the whole military movie thing either, so that might have given me the
bad taste. Tommy Lee Jones is incredible in anything thoughâ€Â¦
Here̢۪s an interesting tid-bit. You̢۪ll notice I̢۪m not picking on
the Vatican, I figured I would give the Episcopal̢۪s a little time.
*(Besides, Kathleen does a good job with them!) I think they are smart
in being progressive, as far as religions go they are, it̢۪s sad that
10-15 years behind corporate America is considered progressive in
religion. I will leave you with my “quote of the week†I think it
kind of sums up religion and politics – "I think Johnnie Byrd would switch to be a Hare Krishna if he thought it would help him get elected U.S. Senator." Florida Democratic Party Chairman Scott Maddox.
Link Here
Posted by: Kathy at
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Post contains 713 words, total size 6 kb.
--- Oh, for the love
--- Oh, for the love of Allah! (yeah, I know I̢۪ve used this one
before. It fits, so sue me.)
“America is responsible for all deaths in Iraq. It is responsible
for the emergence of gangs and thieves because the absence of
leadership like Saddam's was filled with chaos and anarchy," said
Palestinian taxi driver Dib el-Malek in Gaza.
Read the entire story here.
Ok, so let’s notice that this guy thinks the culprits are “gangs
and thieves,†as opposed to Saddam loyalists or perhaps Al-Qaeda
fighters who have slipped in to kill American soldiers and innocent
Iraqi civilians. Sigh. There is such a thing as laying the blame where
it lies. The responsibility for these tragic deaths most assuredly does
not lie at the feet of America.
You know, I̢۪ve been having a hard damn time with my father since
9/11. Since he̢۪s semi-retired, he̢۪s got a lot of time to read and
he̢۪s very interested in all things political. It̢۪s fair to say that
he̢۪s a right-winger---an extreme right winger: he̢۪s met and
supported Pat Buchanan̢۪s failed runs for President in the past. And
Dad̢۪s argument lately has been that I̢۪m deluding myself when I say
that Islam is a religion of peace. He thinks I̢۪m wrong: he says it
preaches violence and has all sorts of lovely proof to back it
up---mainly from writers who publish their stuff on NewsMax and World
News Daily. My argument is that Islam is a religion of peace; but it̢۪s
hardly an organized religion of the sort he̢۪s used to. As a result of
that unorganized status, it̢۪s very simple for the teachers of that
religion to use it toward their own ends. Our dispute is about the
message: he thinks it̢۪s violent, beginning to end; I say it depends
upon who̢۪s teaching the message. I̢۪ve never wanted to think that
Dad has a point. It̢۪s always been comfortable for me, who actually
knows Muslims, to say that they don̢۪t all believe in violence as a
means to an end, but you know what, when I read stories like this one,
I have to admit maybe he̢۪s on to something. I know the majority of
Muslims are peaceful; they want nothing to do with the violence that is
carried out in their God̢۪s name. But why on earth are they silent
about this kind of crap? Why don̢۪t they speak out righteously every
time some hothead spouts off in such a fashion? Why do we only hear
that Islam is a religion of peace when something major happens, like
9/11? Islam is under attack. I don̢۪t care what anyone says: this war
against terror is in part a religious war. No one wants to say it and
that̢۪s fine. I can understand where diplomacy needs to be used wisely
in such a circumstance, but unless moderate Muslims come out and defend
the work the U.S. is doing in Iraq, and speak out loudly, we are doomed
to a further radicalization of positions. People will start to believe
that all Muslims are radicals; that they all want the U.S. to burn in
hell for its righteous acts of colonialization and world domination. In
other words, the stereotypes will become the truth. And for my Muslim
friends, that̢۪s honestly the last thing I want to happen. It̢۪s the
last thing I want for America, as well. We are a country that was
founded on the principle of religious tolerance. I don̢۪t want my
country to become the complete antithesis of that principle. --- P.
Diddy or Puff Daddy---or whatever the hell his nickname is nowadays---is in trouble once
again, but it̢۪s reportedly for having sweatshop laborers making the
sweatshirts he markets. $0.24 a sweatshirt? Mandatory pregnancy tests?
Sheesh. More on this later---when I̢۪ve had time to do some research.
I need to go and look up some stats for Honduran incomes before I write
anything else on this. And we all know with my math skills, this could
take some time, so maybe I̢۪ll get something up on this one by the end
of the week; maybe I won̢۪t. The level of suspense involved with this
should make you feel like a toddler in the midst of toilet training:
you̢۪ll be squirming in your seat.
--- And that̢۪s it for today. Sorry for the short blog, but hey, I do
have things to do around here. Also, the husband is out of the house
for the day and I have things I would like to get done and while he̢۪s
gone, it̢۪s sublimely quiet around here. And
I can talk to myself while I plot out a scene for the manuscript with
impunity. The husband thinks I̢۪m nuts when I talk to myself and likes
to make fun of me. I think it̢۪s the way I work best and results in
the most productivity. Today I shall be researching the best way for a
military police to kidnap someone. This is not something I can do while
he̢۪s around, because if I̢۪m muttering to myself about this, he̢۪ll
insert his two cents, it will be better than anything I̢۪ve got up my
sleeve (I̢۪ve mentioned before about his brilliance) and I just
don̢۪t need it. I̢۪m off to research about guns. I need a good weapon
for use in Sudan by a certain, well-funded group of people. I think I
might have what I need in a Heckler and Koch model, but I need more
research to confirm. If I̢۪m not here tomorrow, it means that the FBI
had a packet sniffer attached to my DSL line and subsequently arrested
me under the Patriot Act. I should be held down at the lockup at the
federal courthouse: the bail might be steep, so bring lots of money.
That is, providing they arraign me.
before. It fits, so sue me.)
“America is responsible for all deaths in Iraq. It is responsible
for the emergence of gangs and thieves because the absence of
leadership like Saddam's was filled with chaos and anarchy," said
Palestinian taxi driver Dib el-Malek in Gaza.
Read the entire story here.
Ok, so let’s notice that this guy thinks the culprits are “gangs
and thieves,†as opposed to Saddam loyalists or perhaps Al-Qaeda
fighters who have slipped in to kill American soldiers and innocent
Iraqi civilians. Sigh. There is such a thing as laying the blame where
it lies. The responsibility for these tragic deaths most assuredly does
not lie at the feet of America.
You know, I̢۪ve been having a hard damn time with my father since
9/11. Since he̢۪s semi-retired, he̢۪s got a lot of time to read and
he̢۪s very interested in all things political. It̢۪s fair to say that
he̢۪s a right-winger---an extreme right winger: he̢۪s met and
supported Pat Buchanan̢۪s failed runs for President in the past. And
Dad̢۪s argument lately has been that I̢۪m deluding myself when I say
that Islam is a religion of peace. He thinks I̢۪m wrong: he says it
preaches violence and has all sorts of lovely proof to back it
up---mainly from writers who publish their stuff on NewsMax and World
News Daily. My argument is that Islam is a religion of peace; but it̢۪s
hardly an organized religion of the sort he̢۪s used to. As a result of
that unorganized status, it̢۪s very simple for the teachers of that
religion to use it toward their own ends. Our dispute is about the
message: he thinks it̢۪s violent, beginning to end; I say it depends
upon who̢۪s teaching the message. I̢۪ve never wanted to think that
Dad has a point. It̢۪s always been comfortable for me, who actually
knows Muslims, to say that they don̢۪t all believe in violence as a
means to an end, but you know what, when I read stories like this one,
I have to admit maybe he̢۪s on to something. I know the majority of
Muslims are peaceful; they want nothing to do with the violence that is
carried out in their God̢۪s name. But why on earth are they silent
about this kind of crap? Why don̢۪t they speak out righteously every
time some hothead spouts off in such a fashion? Why do we only hear
that Islam is a religion of peace when something major happens, like
9/11? Islam is under attack. I don̢۪t care what anyone says: this war
against terror is in part a religious war. No one wants to say it and
that̢۪s fine. I can understand where diplomacy needs to be used wisely
in such a circumstance, but unless moderate Muslims come out and defend
the work the U.S. is doing in Iraq, and speak out loudly, we are doomed
to a further radicalization of positions. People will start to believe
that all Muslims are radicals; that they all want the U.S. to burn in
hell for its righteous acts of colonialization and world domination. In
other words, the stereotypes will become the truth. And for my Muslim
friends, that̢۪s honestly the last thing I want to happen. It̢۪s the
last thing I want for America, as well. We are a country that was
founded on the principle of religious tolerance. I don̢۪t want my
country to become the complete antithesis of that principle. --- P.
Diddy or Puff Daddy---or whatever the hell his nickname is nowadays---is in trouble once
again, but it̢۪s reportedly for having sweatshop laborers making the
sweatshirts he markets. $0.24 a sweatshirt? Mandatory pregnancy tests?
Sheesh. More on this later---when I̢۪ve had time to do some research.
I need to go and look up some stats for Honduran incomes before I write
anything else on this. And we all know with my math skills, this could
take some time, so maybe I̢۪ll get something up on this one by the end
of the week; maybe I won̢۪t. The level of suspense involved with this
should make you feel like a toddler in the midst of toilet training:
you̢۪ll be squirming in your seat.
--- And that̢۪s it for today. Sorry for the short blog, but hey, I do
have things to do around here. Also, the husband is out of the house
for the day and I have things I would like to get done and while he̢۪s
gone, it̢۪s sublimely quiet around here. And
I can talk to myself while I plot out a scene for the manuscript with
impunity. The husband thinks I̢۪m nuts when I talk to myself and likes
to make fun of me. I think it̢۪s the way I work best and results in
the most productivity. Today I shall be researching the best way for a
military police to kidnap someone. This is not something I can do while
he̢۪s around, because if I̢۪m muttering to myself about this, he̢۪ll
insert his two cents, it will be better than anything I̢۪ve got up my
sleeve (I̢۪ve mentioned before about his brilliance) and I just
don̢۪t need it. I̢۪m off to research about guns. I need a good weapon
for use in Sudan by a certain, well-funded group of people. I think I
might have what I need in a Heckler and Koch model, but I need more
research to confirm. If I̢۪m not here tomorrow, it means that the FBI
had a packet sniffer attached to my DSL line and subsequently arrested
me under the Patriot Act. I should be held down at the lockup at the
federal courthouse: the bail might be steep, so bring lots of money.
That is, providing they arraign me.
Posted by: Kathy at
01:31 PM
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Post contains 980 words, total size 6 kb.
--- Ok, still can̢۪t find
--- Ok, still can̢۪t find the All That You Can̢۪t Leave Behind,
disc. Have no clue as to where it is. Which is highly annoying for two
reasons: first, I want to listen to the damn thing, and second, I̢۪m
going to go to Florida in two days to see my parents and I̢۪m not
going to be able to annoy them without it. It̢۪s kind of sick that I
still, at age thirty-two, enjoy annoying my folks with that awful, tuneless, rock and roll,
but what the hell, right? I like expanding their mindsets: it̢۪s fun.
I have checked everywhere---twice. I have no clue as to where it is.
And I̢۪m pissed off about it. Things like CD̢۪s should not just up
and disappear in an apartment the size of ours. --- And today we have
more bitching about the Catholic Church. Feel free to skip if you want.
Ok, so let me see if I̢۪ve got this hypocrisy straight. The Bishop of Toronto, sends a letter out
to all parishes in April, telling people to stay home from mass during
Holy Week if they feel they have any symptoms of SARS. He instructs the
priests not to place communion hosts on anyone̢۪s tongue, but in the
hands, instead. Likewise, Communion from the Cup was to be suspended
completely. No one was to shake hands when giving the Sign of Peace.
Confession was to be given outside of the box, and on Good Friday no
one was to kiss the crucifix. And all of these measures were to prevent
the possible transmission of a highly contagious disease. The
Archdiocese of Toronto acted responsibly in this case; it was easy for
them to act responsibly: no Church doctrines were being thwarted by
doing so. It was an easy call, so they made it. It̢۪s a little bit
different, however, when there is a massive doctrine attached. The
Church decides to go against scientific evidence because it would be
inimical to their interests to do otherwise. Here you have the Catholic
Church saying, hey, the HIV virus can actually get through a condom;
the WHO and all those other organizations who actually practice medicine and science are wrong.
You should, of course, take our word for it and not theirs. Don̢۪t
bother with a rubber because it will get through anyway. You̢۪re just preventing conception if you use one.
And God only knows, we can̢۪t have anyone preventing conception. That
would be sinning. Now the 90% effective reduction rate of STD
transmission the WHO claims comes from consistent and correct usage of
condoms isn̢۪t foolproof. The fact they say it̢۪s 90% is an open and
honest statement on their account. Condoms do break: it̢۪s a fact of
life. They are a manufactured product, and like any other manufactured
product, there are bound to be glitches. 90%, however, is a lot better
than certain death. But Cardinal Trujillo isn̢۪t saying that; he
isn̢۪t instructing any of his priests in Africa, South America, or
Asia to say the effectiveness isn̢۪t perhaps what it should be; he̢۪s
instructing his clergy to say they don̢۪t work at all---despite hard
evidence to the contrary---so why bother using them? A lot of people
don̢۪t get why the Catholic Church is so against any form of
contraception. Here̢۪s a quick rundown for you if you don̢۪t know.
The Church teaches that God is the only one who makes or can take a
life. Only God.
Forget everything you learned in biology class about sperm and egg
hooking up; think more about the finger of God allowing for them to do
so---if that̢۪s the way God wants it. Preventing
conception---placing a barrier, like a condom or birth control pills in
the way---is a sin against God. By taking that pill every morning, you,
the average female, are getting in the way of God̢۪s plan. It̢۪s the
same with a man who puts a rubber on. That very same rubber that a man
uses to prevent the spread of STD̢۪s, is also the same condom that
prevents God̢۪s plan from happening. This is why the Vatican doesn̢۪t
like condoms: the disease prevention factors are not part of the
equation. Condoms primarily prevent conception and that̢۪s as far as
their reasoning will take them.
Now, the cynic in me has always claimed that this policy is not about
the romantic notion of God being the source of all life and death, but
more about the Church̢۪s need for more dues paying Catholics. As the
politicos would say: they̢۪re expanding their base. Oh, and what a
base it is: Catholicism is the largest organized religion in the world.
Even the Muslims haven̢۪t passed them by yet, despite predictions that
they would. And make no mistake about it: they̢۪ve gotten to the top
spot by manipulating their members with inane policies like this one.
On Saturday afternoon, the husband was flipping through the channels
and came across The Devil̢۪s Advocate
on cable. This film is one of those guilty pleasures he enjoys: it̢۪s
not great cinema, but it̢۪s damn fun to watch Al Pacino stick his
finger into the baptismal font and see the holy water start to boil.
There̢۪s always been this quote from the movie that̢۪s stuck with me,
and it’s appropriate for use here today. “Let me give you a
little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He's a
prankster. Think about it. He gives man instincts! He gives you this
extraordinary gift, and then what does He do, I swear for His own
amusement, His own private, cosmic gag reel, He sets the rules in
opposition. It's the goof of all time. Look but don't touch. Touch, but
don't taste! Taste, don't swallow. I don̢۪t think it̢۪s true,
honestly, but the writer had a point, particularly when the Word of God
is shot out there by people who would manipulate to serve their own
ends. In case you hadn̢۪t noticed, the Vatican drives me insane. They
do. I̢۪m a Catholic. I go to mass. I follow the teachings of Jesus;
and it consistently amazes me when the Vatican does things---like
protecting pedophiles---that are so obviously things Jesus would not
want to be a party to, yet they do them in His name.
It̢۪s amazing to go to mass on a Sunday morning and then to come home,
open up the Sunday paper and read stories like this one. Where does the
message go in between mass and the time you get home? If you̢۪ve read
the Gospels, you know what Jesus had to say about suffering. The
Beatitudes are one big consolation to those who suffer here on Earth,
for their reward in the Kingdom of Heaven will be great. But Jesus
didn̢۪t just leave it at that: he also healed the sick and raised
people from the dead, saying their faith in God had cured them: he knew
that life was hellish enough as it was---why should it be harder? Where
the spread of HIV/AIDS is concerned, I just cannot honestly believe
that Church that claims to be the one true Church---that it can prove
its lineage all the way back to Peter, Jesus̢۪ main man, and does so
on a regular basis as proof of its authority---would say that using
condoms to prevent the spread of this horrible virus is verboten. Jesus
never negated suffering, entirely; he knew there was value to it, and
that in itself is a controversial aspect of what Christianity teaches.
But I cannot, I refuse to acknowledge that because there is suffering in the world already, Jesus would want more of it---particularly when it was preventable---even if it meant going against a doctrine of the Church.
This is what flames me. In Africa, some have estimated that half
the continent̢۪s population will be dead in fifty years due to
malnutrition, warfare, but the main culprit will be HIV/AIDS. Let that
figure sink in a bit: half of the most populated continent on Earth
will be dead in fifty years mainly because of a disease that
has no cure. It incredibly disheartening, but there is hope: we have
the means to prevent this massive plague from spreading
further---condoms. But because condoms prevent life from occurring as
well as preventing disease from spreading, they are forbidden. It̢۪s
not only irresponsible in the extreme, it̢۪s murderous: they are
condemning people to death with this action, just as effectively as a
southern governor signs a death penalty warrant: there̢۪s no
difference here. That sounds harsh, doesn̢۪t it? Well, the reality is
harsh. HIV/AIDS is harsh. If you contract it, you will eventually die from it: there is no cure. And millions of uneducated people will take their priest̢۪s word on the efficiency of condoms and will die.
Have they no shame? Has Cardinal Trujillo no pity for the suffering of
millions of people? Is he more interested in more dues paying Catholics
than he is about the quality of their lives? Ah, but Kathy, get over the quality of life issues; the Church doesn̢۪t really care all that much about it.
Nope. I don̢۪t believe that either. If that̢۪s the case, why are
there millions of soup kitchens, shelters, and medical clinics operated
by the Church all over the world? Why does the Pope instruct people to
take care of the poor? Why is Mother Theresa, a woman who was devoted
to caring for the poor, on the way to being canonized? If none of these
things are devoted to improving the quality of life of those who
suffer, why does the Church do them, let alone advocate that everyone
should do them? It̢۪s absolutely maddening to think that, with all the
Church does for the poor of the world, that they refuse to do the one
thing that would help the most: allow for artificial birth control,
particularly when it means preventing the spread of a horrible disease
that has already killed millions, and will continue to keep killing
until a cure is found. I have the solution for the Vatican. Not like
they̢۪ll listen to me about it, but hell, it̢۪s worth a shot. When
the husband and I were married we were told that the only acceptable
form of birth control was Natural Family Planning: the rhythm method
with charts, graphs and thermometers. The archdiocese praised this;
during our premarital counseling they brought in couples to talk about
how effective it was, how wonderful it was, etc. But the main points
were obvious to all in attendance: the Church was, in essence, saying,
we don̢۪t want you to feel just as if you̢۪re here to make babies for
us; we want you to realize we understand there̢۪s science to it;
we̢۪re going to give you some control; we will allow you to plan your families by advocating the least intrusive method of contraception and by doing so, we̢۪ll maybe keep some of you off the pill. The Church told us that one form of birth control was acceptable. So, while the Church doesn̢۪t advocate artificial birth control, they do advocate some
birth control. I̢۪ve always wondered if they advocate Natural Family
Planning in the poorer parts of the world, where people don̢۪t have as
many options as we do, here in the industrialized one. Anyway, the
solution is quite simple, and they don̢۪t even have to back away from
their life doctrines. Where HIV/AIDS is running rampant, and it̢۪s not
like they don̢۪t know precisely where these regions are, they can
advocate the use of condoms. After all, they always tailor the message
to the beliefs and social structures of the recipients: it shouldn̢۪t
be too large of a jump for them to advocate condom usage for infected
Catholics in Africa. They̢۪re already doing this in some instances.
They let priests off the hook for having sex with nuns in Africa
because they allowed for the priests native beliefs, which do not
preach celibacy. The Church chalked the priests̢۪ slip-up as a lapse.
They can do this while keeping the Natural Family Planning rule in
effect for those of us who don̢۪t have to worry about becoming
infected from our partners. I would like to think that those Catholics
who aren̢۪t affected by this plague wouldn̢۪t automatically think
they̢۪re free to use condoms now. It would be nice if the Vatican
would have a little faith, eh? If the Church preaches that the
individual person has free will and subsequently argues that the burden
for being good, for getting into heaven, is on the individual, it seems
the Church should help, rather than hinder, that noble mission. Condoms
do not promote promiscuity; people promote promiscuity. People sin.
That̢۪s a fact of life; their sin, however, should not cause
adverse---and deathly---effects on others. Sin should not be communal;
if the Church preaches that we have free will, and that everything̢۪s
up to us, they should help us achieve that goal, rather than making it
impossible. That̢۪s what it boils down to: the Church has a mission to
help, not hinder. And they̢۪re ignoring it because of a shortsighted
doctrine. It honestly makes you wonder what Jesus would think about it.
I̢۪d really like to see him come down and bitchslap Cardinal Trujillo.
I really would. Someone needs to.
--- Here̢۪s your Chuckle for the Day.
And the French call us repressed when it comes to all thing sexual?
--- I̢۪m off to go and give myself a complex. A swimsuit hunting we will go, a swimsuit hunting we will go, hi-ho, the merry-o, a swimsuit hunting we will go.
I̢۪m not likely to be in a good mood later, so I will wish you a happy
day now and get it over with.
disc. Have no clue as to where it is. Which is highly annoying for two
reasons: first, I want to listen to the damn thing, and second, I̢۪m
going to go to Florida in two days to see my parents and I̢۪m not
going to be able to annoy them without it. It̢۪s kind of sick that I
still, at age thirty-two, enjoy annoying my folks with that awful, tuneless, rock and roll,
but what the hell, right? I like expanding their mindsets: it̢۪s fun.
I have checked everywhere---twice. I have no clue as to where it is.
And I̢۪m pissed off about it. Things like CD̢۪s should not just up
and disappear in an apartment the size of ours. --- And today we have
more bitching about the Catholic Church. Feel free to skip if you want.
Ok, so let me see if I̢۪ve got this hypocrisy straight. The Bishop of Toronto, sends a letter out
to all parishes in April, telling people to stay home from mass during
Holy Week if they feel they have any symptoms of SARS. He instructs the
priests not to place communion hosts on anyone̢۪s tongue, but in the
hands, instead. Likewise, Communion from the Cup was to be suspended
completely. No one was to shake hands when giving the Sign of Peace.
Confession was to be given outside of the box, and on Good Friday no
one was to kiss the crucifix. And all of these measures were to prevent
the possible transmission of a highly contagious disease. The
Archdiocese of Toronto acted responsibly in this case; it was easy for
them to act responsibly: no Church doctrines were being thwarted by
doing so. It was an easy call, so they made it. It̢۪s a little bit
different, however, when there is a massive doctrine attached. The
Church decides to go against scientific evidence because it would be
inimical to their interests to do otherwise. Here you have the Catholic
Church saying, hey, the HIV virus can actually get through a condom;
the WHO and all those other organizations who actually practice medicine and science are wrong.
You should, of course, take our word for it and not theirs. Don̢۪t
bother with a rubber because it will get through anyway. You̢۪re just preventing conception if you use one.
And God only knows, we can̢۪t have anyone preventing conception. That
would be sinning. Now the 90% effective reduction rate of STD
transmission the WHO claims comes from consistent and correct usage of
condoms isn̢۪t foolproof. The fact they say it̢۪s 90% is an open and
honest statement on their account. Condoms do break: it̢۪s a fact of
life. They are a manufactured product, and like any other manufactured
product, there are bound to be glitches. 90%, however, is a lot better
than certain death. But Cardinal Trujillo isn̢۪t saying that; he
isn̢۪t instructing any of his priests in Africa, South America, or
Asia to say the effectiveness isn̢۪t perhaps what it should be; he̢۪s
instructing his clergy to say they don̢۪t work at all---despite hard
evidence to the contrary---so why bother using them? A lot of people
don̢۪t get why the Catholic Church is so against any form of
contraception. Here̢۪s a quick rundown for you if you don̢۪t know.
The Church teaches that God is the only one who makes or can take a
life. Only God.
Forget everything you learned in biology class about sperm and egg
hooking up; think more about the finger of God allowing for them to do
so---if that̢۪s the way God wants it. Preventing
conception---placing a barrier, like a condom or birth control pills in
the way---is a sin against God. By taking that pill every morning, you,
the average female, are getting in the way of God̢۪s plan. It̢۪s the
same with a man who puts a rubber on. That very same rubber that a man
uses to prevent the spread of STD̢۪s, is also the same condom that
prevents God̢۪s plan from happening. This is why the Vatican doesn̢۪t
like condoms: the disease prevention factors are not part of the
equation. Condoms primarily prevent conception and that̢۪s as far as
their reasoning will take them.
Now, the cynic in me has always claimed that this policy is not about
the romantic notion of God being the source of all life and death, but
more about the Church̢۪s need for more dues paying Catholics. As the
politicos would say: they̢۪re expanding their base. Oh, and what a
base it is: Catholicism is the largest organized religion in the world.
Even the Muslims haven̢۪t passed them by yet, despite predictions that
they would. And make no mistake about it: they̢۪ve gotten to the top
spot by manipulating their members with inane policies like this one.
On Saturday afternoon, the husband was flipping through the channels
and came across The Devil̢۪s Advocate
on cable. This film is one of those guilty pleasures he enjoys: it̢۪s
not great cinema, but it̢۪s damn fun to watch Al Pacino stick his
finger into the baptismal font and see the holy water start to boil.
There̢۪s always been this quote from the movie that̢۪s stuck with me,
and it’s appropriate for use here today. “Let me give you a
little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He's a
prankster. Think about it. He gives man instincts! He gives you this
extraordinary gift, and then what does He do, I swear for His own
amusement, His own private, cosmic gag reel, He sets the rules in
opposition. It's the goof of all time. Look but don't touch. Touch, but
don't taste! Taste, don't swallow. I don̢۪t think it̢۪s true,
honestly, but the writer had a point, particularly when the Word of God
is shot out there by people who would manipulate to serve their own
ends. In case you hadn̢۪t noticed, the Vatican drives me insane. They
do. I̢۪m a Catholic. I go to mass. I follow the teachings of Jesus;
and it consistently amazes me when the Vatican does things---like
protecting pedophiles---that are so obviously things Jesus would not
want to be a party to, yet they do them in His name.
It̢۪s amazing to go to mass on a Sunday morning and then to come home,
open up the Sunday paper and read stories like this one. Where does the
message go in between mass and the time you get home? If you̢۪ve read
the Gospels, you know what Jesus had to say about suffering. The
Beatitudes are one big consolation to those who suffer here on Earth,
for their reward in the Kingdom of Heaven will be great. But Jesus
didn̢۪t just leave it at that: he also healed the sick and raised
people from the dead, saying their faith in God had cured them: he knew
that life was hellish enough as it was---why should it be harder? Where
the spread of HIV/AIDS is concerned, I just cannot honestly believe
that Church that claims to be the one true Church---that it can prove
its lineage all the way back to Peter, Jesus̢۪ main man, and does so
on a regular basis as proof of its authority---would say that using
condoms to prevent the spread of this horrible virus is verboten. Jesus
never negated suffering, entirely; he knew there was value to it, and
that in itself is a controversial aspect of what Christianity teaches.
But I cannot, I refuse to acknowledge that because there is suffering in the world already, Jesus would want more of it---particularly when it was preventable---even if it meant going against a doctrine of the Church.
This is what flames me. In Africa, some have estimated that half
the continent̢۪s population will be dead in fifty years due to
malnutrition, warfare, but the main culprit will be HIV/AIDS. Let that
figure sink in a bit: half of the most populated continent on Earth
will be dead in fifty years mainly because of a disease that
has no cure. It incredibly disheartening, but there is hope: we have
the means to prevent this massive plague from spreading
further---condoms. But because condoms prevent life from occurring as
well as preventing disease from spreading, they are forbidden. It̢۪s
not only irresponsible in the extreme, it̢۪s murderous: they are
condemning people to death with this action, just as effectively as a
southern governor signs a death penalty warrant: there̢۪s no
difference here. That sounds harsh, doesn̢۪t it? Well, the reality is
harsh. HIV/AIDS is harsh. If you contract it, you will eventually die from it: there is no cure. And millions of uneducated people will take their priest̢۪s word on the efficiency of condoms and will die.
Have they no shame? Has Cardinal Trujillo no pity for the suffering of
millions of people? Is he more interested in more dues paying Catholics
than he is about the quality of their lives? Ah, but Kathy, get over the quality of life issues; the Church doesn̢۪t really care all that much about it.
Nope. I don̢۪t believe that either. If that̢۪s the case, why are
there millions of soup kitchens, shelters, and medical clinics operated
by the Church all over the world? Why does the Pope instruct people to
take care of the poor? Why is Mother Theresa, a woman who was devoted
to caring for the poor, on the way to being canonized? If none of these
things are devoted to improving the quality of life of those who
suffer, why does the Church do them, let alone advocate that everyone
should do them? It̢۪s absolutely maddening to think that, with all the
Church does for the poor of the world, that they refuse to do the one
thing that would help the most: allow for artificial birth control,
particularly when it means preventing the spread of a horrible disease
that has already killed millions, and will continue to keep killing
until a cure is found. I have the solution for the Vatican. Not like
they̢۪ll listen to me about it, but hell, it̢۪s worth a shot. When
the husband and I were married we were told that the only acceptable
form of birth control was Natural Family Planning: the rhythm method
with charts, graphs and thermometers. The archdiocese praised this;
during our premarital counseling they brought in couples to talk about
how effective it was, how wonderful it was, etc. But the main points
were obvious to all in attendance: the Church was, in essence, saying,
we don̢۪t want you to feel just as if you̢۪re here to make babies for
us; we want you to realize we understand there̢۪s science to it;
we̢۪re going to give you some control; we will allow you to plan your families by advocating the least intrusive method of contraception and by doing so, we̢۪ll maybe keep some of you off the pill. The Church told us that one form of birth control was acceptable. So, while the Church doesn̢۪t advocate artificial birth control, they do advocate some
birth control. I̢۪ve always wondered if they advocate Natural Family
Planning in the poorer parts of the world, where people don̢۪t have as
many options as we do, here in the industrialized one. Anyway, the
solution is quite simple, and they don̢۪t even have to back away from
their life doctrines. Where HIV/AIDS is running rampant, and it̢۪s not
like they don̢۪t know precisely where these regions are, they can
advocate the use of condoms. After all, they always tailor the message
to the beliefs and social structures of the recipients: it shouldn̢۪t
be too large of a jump for them to advocate condom usage for infected
Catholics in Africa. They̢۪re already doing this in some instances.
They let priests off the hook for having sex with nuns in Africa
because they allowed for the priests native beliefs, which do not
preach celibacy. The Church chalked the priests̢۪ slip-up as a lapse.
They can do this while keeping the Natural Family Planning rule in
effect for those of us who don̢۪t have to worry about becoming
infected from our partners. I would like to think that those Catholics
who aren̢۪t affected by this plague wouldn̢۪t automatically think
they̢۪re free to use condoms now. It would be nice if the Vatican
would have a little faith, eh? If the Church preaches that the
individual person has free will and subsequently argues that the burden
for being good, for getting into heaven, is on the individual, it seems
the Church should help, rather than hinder, that noble mission. Condoms
do not promote promiscuity; people promote promiscuity. People sin.
That̢۪s a fact of life; their sin, however, should not cause
adverse---and deathly---effects on others. Sin should not be communal;
if the Church preaches that we have free will, and that everything̢۪s
up to us, they should help us achieve that goal, rather than making it
impossible. That̢۪s what it boils down to: the Church has a mission to
help, not hinder. And they̢۪re ignoring it because of a shortsighted
doctrine. It honestly makes you wonder what Jesus would think about it.
I̢۪d really like to see him come down and bitchslap Cardinal Trujillo.
I really would. Someone needs to.
--- Here̢۪s your Chuckle for the Day.
And the French call us repressed when it comes to all thing sexual?
--- I̢۪m off to go and give myself a complex. A swimsuit hunting we will go, a swimsuit hunting we will go, hi-ho, the merry-o, a swimsuit hunting we will go.
I̢۪m not likely to be in a good mood later, so I will wish you a happy
day now and get it over with.
Posted by: Kathy at
01:20 PM
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| Add Comment
Post contains 2301 words, total size 15 kb.
Hello, it's "The Husband". Dutifully
Hello, it's "The Husband". Dutifully carrying out my assignment to post
something on the Cake Eater Chronicles today. I've been thinking of
what to write about for the past day or so, and have come up with any
number of possibilities. Every time I see something on the news that
seems interesting, it fades quickly from my attention. I just don't
take all the news that seriously anymore. The issue has to have a
little more impact on my life than the Kobe Bryant case to
make me care.
So I just thought I'd get on, and in true blogger fashion, write
whatever comes to the top of mind. Sort of a stream of consciousness
post. Well, that got me going already. There's Stream of Consciousness like this...
...or like this...
...or like this. (Warning, don't go get this one on a dial up connection...unless you need to go make a pot of coffee and can wait for it.)
And probably many more.
"But!" you say, "It's not really a stream of consciousness if you keep
pausing to put these links in the blog, is it!" Not so. Everyone's
consciousness has developed to function differently with different
skill sets. Mine happens to be tuned to manipulating the Internet for
knowledge and entertainment. The interface on the Blogger post window
makes it easy to drop links like that in anyway. There is a difference,
however, between the development of an individual's consciousness and
the evolution of consciousness for a population as a whole. Kathy and I
are forever having an argument about this. Her being Catholic kind of
makes it difficult to accept my position that some people are more
evolved than others at this very moment here on Earth. This page might explain it better
than I can alone. It's very difficult for some people to grasp that
concept, as we each only have the perspective of our own experience at
any given moment. But if you can get past some of that, you can see how
those at the green level look down on those at the orange level. Or,
this can explain the difference in mind-set between the eco-freaks and
the capitalist pigs. You have to be careful when looking at that overly
simplified model, however. Those levels of development are gross
generalizations, and each individual will progress through similar
stages of development, and while the society they live in may be
centered around one level or another, personally they may be far
advanced or far behind in their own worldview. I read a fascinating
example of this somewhere, it may have been in one of Ken Wilber's books.
The demonstration was to give a child of about 3 a book. The cover of
the book is Blue on one side and Orange on the other. When you hold the
book up to the child so that they only see the orange side, and ask
them what color you are looking at, they will say orange. They can't
yet distinguish from their own perspective and that of another. A few
years later, the same child will understand that if she's looking at
the blue side, then you must see the orange side. Concrete examples
like this continue on up until we are able to demonstrate some
functioning at a very high level. Some people we run into on a regular
basis, never achieve this level.
What is usually the bone of contention between Kathy and myself on this
point, is that I say there will never be peace in the Middle-east until
parties on both sides evolve past their current combination of
red-warlike power structures and blue mytho-authoritarian leadership.
They may not even be capable of peace as they can't see it's benefits.
The rest of the world is not helping them progress either. We're
constantly trying to appease each side in the spirit of "peace" thus
preventing them from working through their problems and LEARNING FROM
THE EXPERIENCE so that they can evolve to the next level (orange) and
start becoming capitalist pigs with the rest of us. *evil grin*
Actually, even the capitalist pigs aren't that anymore. Those types of
business people are mainly in foreign countries now. More and more
people in America realise that to do good business is to combine with
others toward a common positive goal. It's not healthy to burn bridges,
the words of war are no longer so acceptable in the conference room. We
now speak of synergy instead of hostile takeovers. (Although the latter
still happens - no change is ever complete and instantaneous, we've got
a ways to go.) Ok, I've gone on long enough. I could continue, but I
doubt you've read my nonsense even this far. You should at least now
have an understanding of my My Bride is so special...she chooses to
live with me with drivel like this escaping my lips day in and day out.
So be nice to Kathy when she comes back...perhaps take her shoe
shopping. :-)
something on the Cake Eater Chronicles today. I've been thinking of
what to write about for the past day or so, and have come up with any
number of possibilities. Every time I see something on the news that
seems interesting, it fades quickly from my attention. I just don't
take all the news that seriously anymore. The issue has to have a
little more impact on my life than the Kobe Bryant case to
make me care.
So I just thought I'd get on, and in true blogger fashion, write
whatever comes to the top of mind. Sort of a stream of consciousness
post. Well, that got me going already. There's Stream of Consciousness like this...
...or like this...
...or like this. (Warning, don't go get this one on a dial up connection...unless you need to go make a pot of coffee and can wait for it.)
And probably many more.
"But!" you say, "It's not really a stream of consciousness if you keep
pausing to put these links in the blog, is it!" Not so. Everyone's
consciousness has developed to function differently with different
skill sets. Mine happens to be tuned to manipulating the Internet for
knowledge and entertainment. The interface on the Blogger post window
makes it easy to drop links like that in anyway. There is a difference,
however, between the development of an individual's consciousness and
the evolution of consciousness for a population as a whole. Kathy and I
are forever having an argument about this. Her being Catholic kind of
makes it difficult to accept my position that some people are more
evolved than others at this very moment here on Earth. This page might explain it better
than I can alone. It's very difficult for some people to grasp that
concept, as we each only have the perspective of our own experience at
any given moment. But if you can get past some of that, you can see how
those at the green level look down on those at the orange level. Or,
this can explain the difference in mind-set between the eco-freaks and
the capitalist pigs. You have to be careful when looking at that overly
simplified model, however. Those levels of development are gross
generalizations, and each individual will progress through similar
stages of development, and while the society they live in may be
centered around one level or another, personally they may be far
advanced or far behind in their own worldview. I read a fascinating
example of this somewhere, it may have been in one of Ken Wilber's books.
The demonstration was to give a child of about 3 a book. The cover of
the book is Blue on one side and Orange on the other. When you hold the
book up to the child so that they only see the orange side, and ask
them what color you are looking at, they will say orange. They can't
yet distinguish from their own perspective and that of another. A few
years later, the same child will understand that if she's looking at
the blue side, then you must see the orange side. Concrete examples
like this continue on up until we are able to demonstrate some
functioning at a very high level. Some people we run into on a regular
basis, never achieve this level.
What is usually the bone of contention between Kathy and myself on this
point, is that I say there will never be peace in the Middle-east until
parties on both sides evolve past their current combination of
red-warlike power structures and blue mytho-authoritarian leadership.
They may not even be capable of peace as they can't see it's benefits.
The rest of the world is not helping them progress either. We're
constantly trying to appease each side in the spirit of "peace" thus
preventing them from working through their problems and LEARNING FROM
THE EXPERIENCE so that they can evolve to the next level (orange) and
start becoming capitalist pigs with the rest of us. *evil grin*
Actually, even the capitalist pigs aren't that anymore. Those types of
business people are mainly in foreign countries now. More and more
people in America realise that to do good business is to combine with
others toward a common positive goal. It's not healthy to burn bridges,
the words of war are no longer so acceptable in the conference room. We
now speak of synergy instead of hostile takeovers. (Although the latter
still happens - no change is ever complete and instantaneous, we've got
a ways to go.) Ok, I've gone on long enough. I could continue, but I
doubt you've read my nonsense even this far. You should at least now
have an understanding of my My Bride is so special...she chooses to
live with me with drivel like this escaping my lips day in and day out.
So be nice to Kathy when she comes back...perhaps take her shoe
shopping. :-)
Posted by: Kathy at
01:07 PM
| No Comments
| Add Comment
Post contains 846 words, total size 5 kb.
--- Finally, a reason to
--- Finally, a reason to watch CNBC.
--- Heheheheheh.
Never underestimate the fury of a girl who attends Catholic school.
--- And yet another example that
perhaps this generation is not the waste it̢۪s made out to be. Now, if
only this kid could get the money that LeBron James is making in his
first year as an NBA player, all will be right with the world.
--- I had a nice Halloween blog all planned out; one that touched on
all of the sweetness and nostalgia associated with this holiday, and we
just got a phone call that has made it all irrelevant. I just don̢۪t
fucking care anymore. I̢۪m not going to bother to go and get a
pumpkin; the neighborhood kids can get their candy from someone else
tonight. I̢۪m just simply not in the mood for it today. Just. Not. In.
The. Mood. And I love Halloween. I love seeing kids work themselves
into a lather over this holiday; picking their costumes with all of the
attention to detail that Marie Antoinette put into choosing which
jewels she would wear to court; I love it when they come to my door,
screaming “trick or treat,†with that childish enthusiasm we adults
have lost touch with. But not today. Today is a shitty day that just
happens to be Halloween, and the kids in the neighborhood will suffer
for my poor mood. Take it that I̢۪m sorry, kids, and next year I̢۪ll
have the lights on and will chip out for the full sized candy bars to
make up for it. General Question for the Day: Why is that some people
will always, under any circumstances, screw you before you have the
opportunity to even think of screwing them? What is it with people? Do
we really live in a world where our defense mechanisms must be
completely offensive? That it̢۪s just not effective enough a solution
to wait and see what happens before they respond to a situation? Even
if there̢۪s no proof that they will end up on the short end of the
stick in the first place? I̢۪m so tired of people. I̢۪m particularly
tired of certain people that spend their lives making others̢۪ a
misery because they have to be the King of the Mountain all the damn
time. And that they do it in sneaky, underhanded ways just drives me
nuts. If you have a problem with me, at least have the guts to tell me,
straight to my face, instead of sneaking around and making
surreptitious moves, like a chess master who̢۪s hooded and you can̢۪t
tell who̢۪s beating you or why. I would at least like to know why my
adversary hates me so much that they feel the need to subvert me at
every step. But that would be making it personal, wouldn̢۪t it? The
troubles these people are causing me, by their way of thinking,
aren̢۪t personal: they̢۪re business; they̢۪re just doing their job.
And that̢۪s the problem. Because it is personal to me; they keep
dumping things on me and expect me to take it like it̢۪s no big deal;
that this is just the price you have to pay. They're numb to anything
but what will get them ahead in this world. So, sorry, maybe it will be better next time around. And that̢۪s the kicker: it won̢۪t be any better the next time around unless I stoop to their level and act the way they act.
Where̢۪s the hope for the goodness of humanity in that action?
We̢۪re floating down the River Styx, Cerberus is just around the bend and the hand basket that̢۪s carrying us is on fire.
I̢۪m certain of it.
--- Heheheheheh.
Never underestimate the fury of a girl who attends Catholic school.
--- And yet another example that
perhaps this generation is not the waste it̢۪s made out to be. Now, if
only this kid could get the money that LeBron James is making in his
first year as an NBA player, all will be right with the world.
--- I had a nice Halloween blog all planned out; one that touched on
all of the sweetness and nostalgia associated with this holiday, and we
just got a phone call that has made it all irrelevant. I just don̢۪t
fucking care anymore. I̢۪m not going to bother to go and get a
pumpkin; the neighborhood kids can get their candy from someone else
tonight. I̢۪m just simply not in the mood for it today. Just. Not. In.
The. Mood. And I love Halloween. I love seeing kids work themselves
into a lather over this holiday; picking their costumes with all of the
attention to detail that Marie Antoinette put into choosing which
jewels she would wear to court; I love it when they come to my door,
screaming “trick or treat,†with that childish enthusiasm we adults
have lost touch with. But not today. Today is a shitty day that just
happens to be Halloween, and the kids in the neighborhood will suffer
for my poor mood. Take it that I̢۪m sorry, kids, and next year I̢۪ll
have the lights on and will chip out for the full sized candy bars to
make up for it. General Question for the Day: Why is that some people
will always, under any circumstances, screw you before you have the
opportunity to even think of screwing them? What is it with people? Do
we really live in a world where our defense mechanisms must be
completely offensive? That it̢۪s just not effective enough a solution
to wait and see what happens before they respond to a situation? Even
if there̢۪s no proof that they will end up on the short end of the
stick in the first place? I̢۪m so tired of people. I̢۪m particularly
tired of certain people that spend their lives making others̢۪ a
misery because they have to be the King of the Mountain all the damn
time. And that they do it in sneaky, underhanded ways just drives me
nuts. If you have a problem with me, at least have the guts to tell me,
straight to my face, instead of sneaking around and making
surreptitious moves, like a chess master who̢۪s hooded and you can̢۪t
tell who̢۪s beating you or why. I would at least like to know why my
adversary hates me so much that they feel the need to subvert me at
every step. But that would be making it personal, wouldn̢۪t it? The
troubles these people are causing me, by their way of thinking,
aren̢۪t personal: they̢۪re business; they̢۪re just doing their job.
And that̢۪s the problem. Because it is personal to me; they keep
dumping things on me and expect me to take it like it̢۪s no big deal;
that this is just the price you have to pay. They're numb to anything
but what will get them ahead in this world. So, sorry, maybe it will be better next time around. And that̢۪s the kicker: it won̢۪t be any better the next time around unless I stoop to their level and act the way they act.
Where̢۪s the hope for the goodness of humanity in that action?
We̢۪re floating down the River Styx, Cerberus is just around the bend and the hand basket that̢۪s carrying us is on fire.
I̢۪m certain of it.
Posted by: Kathy at
12:55 PM
| No Comments
| Add Comment
Post contains 628 words, total size 4 kb.
Hello! It's Mr. H. checking
Hello!
It's Mr. H. checking in again. For my final Guest Spot! I originally
thought I was bringing in the week (Mon) then closing out the week
(Friday). I did however, check the schedule just in time to realize how
wrong I was in assuming that! So here I am, to entertain!
Two weeks from tomorrow, is one of my favorite holidays!! HALLOWEEN!
However for some reason, I just wasn't in the spirit this year, until I
found this yesterday! Stencils for your pumpkin carving fun, celebrity pumpkins at that. They also have a wonderful assortment of Movie Monsters, including the Oogie Boogies from the Nightmare Before Christmas, Musicians (I myself am going to use the Bono as Macphisto!), and even Yoda! (The Husband should have a Yoda Pumpkin!). If you need help with your carving skills, check this out! I found this site a couple of years ago, and it keeps getting better.
I love The Nightmare Before Christmas,
it's one of my favorite movies "Kidnap the Sandy-Claws, beat him with a
stick". Tim Burton is wonderful with his dark visions, you can imagine
my surprise when I came across this. Can't wait for Big Fish and look at this cast!!!!!!
While I'm still on the subject of Halloween and darkeness (I do tend to
drift around from time to time, and am completely familiar with The
Husband's stream of consciousness post yesterday) Check out the Dark Side
Of Pez silly, not the force.
Now for something different!
I have Computer Envy. The "Boss" just bought himself one of these!
This is the slickest, quickest, cutest little computers I have ever
seen. I no longer have the 'best' computer in the office! I know, but
just give me a little pity sympathy!
I couldn't leave, without leaving you on a good quote. This one almost
made me pee my pants. (In my world, that kind of laughter is a good
thing)
To say that marriage is sacred is a ludicrous idea. F*$%ing Carmen
Electra and Dennis Rodman got married, and Lisa Marie Presley and
Michael Jackson got married. Now that is not sacred, it don't care,
that's f*$%ing stupid, you know, and I'm not buying it. Margaret Cho to the Florida's Contax Guide
That quote, in response to George W. Bush proclaiming October 12-18 Marriage Protection Week.
Protection from what, I ask? Love? Evangelical Voters? I'll leave the arguing to Andrew Sullivan.
I will now sign off from my duties as guest blogger here on the Cake
Eater, and I sure hope Miss Cake is enjoying herself on the beach, with
cocktail in hand, and hasn't had too many run-ins with the seniors.
(Kathleen, did you remember the sunscreen?) I'm sure you/we all will
look forward to her wit, sass, class and charm when she returns on
Monday. (Yours truly will be greeting her at the airport) It's been a
pleasure being here!
Mr. H.
It's Mr. H. checking in again. For my final Guest Spot! I originally
thought I was bringing in the week (Mon) then closing out the week
(Friday). I did however, check the schedule just in time to realize how
wrong I was in assuming that! So here I am, to entertain!
Two weeks from tomorrow, is one of my favorite holidays!! HALLOWEEN!
However for some reason, I just wasn't in the spirit this year, until I
found this yesterday! Stencils for your pumpkin carving fun, celebrity pumpkins at that. They also have a wonderful assortment of Movie Monsters, including the Oogie Boogies from the Nightmare Before Christmas, Musicians (I myself am going to use the Bono as Macphisto!), and even Yoda! (The Husband should have a Yoda Pumpkin!). If you need help with your carving skills, check this out! I found this site a couple of years ago, and it keeps getting better.
I love The Nightmare Before Christmas,
it's one of my favorite movies "Kidnap the Sandy-Claws, beat him with a
stick". Tim Burton is wonderful with his dark visions, you can imagine
my surprise when I came across this. Can't wait for Big Fish and look at this cast!!!!!!
While I'm still on the subject of Halloween and darkeness (I do tend to
drift around from time to time, and am completely familiar with The
Husband's stream of consciousness post yesterday) Check out the Dark Side
Of Pez silly, not the force.
Now for something different!
I have Computer Envy. The "Boss" just bought himself one of these!
This is the slickest, quickest, cutest little computers I have ever
seen. I no longer have the 'best' computer in the office! I know, but
just give me a little pity sympathy!
I couldn't leave, without leaving you on a good quote. This one almost
made me pee my pants. (In my world, that kind of laughter is a good
thing)
To say that marriage is sacred is a ludicrous idea. F*$%ing Carmen
Electra and Dennis Rodman got married, and Lisa Marie Presley and
Michael Jackson got married. Now that is not sacred, it don't care,
that's f*$%ing stupid, you know, and I'm not buying it. Margaret Cho to the Florida's Contax Guide
That quote, in response to George W. Bush proclaiming October 12-18 Marriage Protection Week.
Protection from what, I ask? Love? Evangelical Voters? I'll leave the arguing to Andrew Sullivan.
I will now sign off from my duties as guest blogger here on the Cake
Eater, and I sure hope Miss Cake is enjoying herself on the beach, with
cocktail in hand, and hasn't had too many run-ins with the seniors.
(Kathleen, did you remember the sunscreen?) I'm sure you/we all will
look forward to her wit, sass, class and charm when she returns on
Monday. (Yours truly will be greeting her at the airport) It's been a
pleasure being here!
Mr. H.
Posted by: Kathy at
12:23 PM
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Post contains 496 words, total size 4 kb.
--- Pissy. Am pissy. I
--- Pissy. Am pissy. I was just searching for the All That You Can̢۪t Leave Behind disc and am having no luck in finding it. Well, where was it the last time you saw it? you ask, in a snotty, head stuck up your ass, superior I
can find things in my house because I am an organized sort of person.
You are the sort of person who is on the opposite end of the neatness
spectrum from me, you slacking sod! You are the type who likes to live in a cluttered house.
tone of voice. Well, dearie, if it was in the last place I saw it,
I̢۪d be able to find it. But it̢۪s not because the husband moved it
and has no idea where the hell it is. He claims he put it in my
carrying case. It is not there. I have hunted high and low. Fuck the
hell right off. In the contrary nature of all things associated with
me, it will show up right after I̢۪ve decided I don̢۪t want to listen
to it anymore. In the meantime, I am satisfying myself with this.
No, it̢۪s not the same thing, but it will have to do until All That You Can̢۪t Leave Behind comes out of hiding. This damn disc has a way of disappearing on me. It̢۪s not the first time it̢۪s done a runner.
It must hate me
--- More DVD region hellishness today. Although, not from me. From P. in Toulouse. Yes, that̢۪s right. Toulouse, France.
“First: You *are* aware that they speak French in some parts of Canada, aren't you??? Hence the French manual...???
As I̢۪ve mentioned before, P. is one of those disgustingly clever
trilingual people. She was born and raised in Germany, went to school
in Paris, and now lives in Toulouse with her husband and three kids.
Oh, and did I mention she has her own translating business? She makes a
pretty good living working with those three languages. I met P. online
and she̢۪s been helping me (for free, bless her) with the manuscript
by translating some of my dialogue into French. I read somewhere once
that about six percent of the world population is unable to learn
another language. I am one of these people: I̢۪ve tried to learn other
languages and have failed miserably. P. seems to be of the opinion that
I just haven̢۪t tried hard enough and that if I really put the nose to
the grindstone that it would eventually come to me. I doubt it, and as
long as I have her to help me, I really don̢۪t need to learn, either,
do I? Anyway, she ribs me about my lack of knowledge about the French
language, and I take it, because, obviously, it̢۪s true. But as this
next bit shows, it seems even disgustingly clever trilingual people
have issues with the DVD region coding. “Second: I'm with you. I hate this whole DVD business, although
I love DVDs. But even inside region 2 we have our problems. France is
the only European country that uses SECAM and not PAL. We had to be
really careful when we bought our TV so we would get one that reads
both - otherwise tapes or DVDs from the UK or Germany would be shown in
black and white. So now we have a TV that reads both, a videorecorder
that reads both, no idea what the DVD player reads - but it seems to
work.
Now, my husband bought a movie (US movie) at Copenhagen airport.
Surprise surprise. It has the English original version, and then it has
Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, Finnish and I think something as weird as
Estonian. Audio and subtitles. But no English subtitles.
"Lola rennt", a German movie, I bought in Germany. It has the German
audio and subtitles and also English subs. That's it.
Most French movies have French audio and subs. Nothing else. Don't know
what they have when they're coded region 1, but coded for region 2
that's it. Our Irish friend G. is very annoyed because his French is so
bad. I like watching movies in their original language, even when I
don't speak it. And when they are in English, sometimes I need
subtitles - and I would love to have those in English, too.
Sometimes, I suspect, it really is a possiblity to be too smart for
your own good. Heheheheheh. Ducking and running. --- Will have more up
later in the day. I'm currently working on something and I want to make
sure I have it just right before I post. In the meanwhile, go and read
this, which will undoubtedly win the award for most linked to story of the day---but for good reason.
Lileks needs to learn that his germ paranoia is the reason why he seems to get colds all the time.
Vodkaboy is back from his extended leave---with a vengeance. Check him out. Seems the break did him some good.
See you in a little while.
can find things in my house because I am an organized sort of person.
You are the sort of person who is on the opposite end of the neatness
spectrum from me, you slacking sod! You are the type who likes to live in a cluttered house.
tone of voice. Well, dearie, if it was in the last place I saw it,
I̢۪d be able to find it. But it̢۪s not because the husband moved it
and has no idea where the hell it is. He claims he put it in my
carrying case. It is not there. I have hunted high and low. Fuck the
hell right off. In the contrary nature of all things associated with
me, it will show up right after I̢۪ve decided I don̢۪t want to listen
to it anymore. In the meantime, I am satisfying myself with this.
No, it̢۪s not the same thing, but it will have to do until All That You Can̢۪t Leave Behind comes out of hiding. This damn disc has a way of disappearing on me. It̢۪s not the first time it̢۪s done a runner.
It must hate me
--- More DVD region hellishness today. Although, not from me. From P. in Toulouse. Yes, that̢۪s right. Toulouse, France.
“First: You *are* aware that they speak French in some parts of Canada, aren't you??? Hence the French manual...???
As I̢۪ve mentioned before, P. is one of those disgustingly clever
trilingual people. She was born and raised in Germany, went to school
in Paris, and now lives in Toulouse with her husband and three kids.
Oh, and did I mention she has her own translating business? She makes a
pretty good living working with those three languages. I met P. online
and she̢۪s been helping me (for free, bless her) with the manuscript
by translating some of my dialogue into French. I read somewhere once
that about six percent of the world population is unable to learn
another language. I am one of these people: I̢۪ve tried to learn other
languages and have failed miserably. P. seems to be of the opinion that
I just haven̢۪t tried hard enough and that if I really put the nose to
the grindstone that it would eventually come to me. I doubt it, and as
long as I have her to help me, I really don̢۪t need to learn, either,
do I? Anyway, she ribs me about my lack of knowledge about the French
language, and I take it, because, obviously, it̢۪s true. But as this
next bit shows, it seems even disgustingly clever trilingual people
have issues with the DVD region coding. “Second: I'm with you. I hate this whole DVD business, although
I love DVDs. But even inside region 2 we have our problems. France is
the only European country that uses SECAM and not PAL. We had to be
really careful when we bought our TV so we would get one that reads
both - otherwise tapes or DVDs from the UK or Germany would be shown in
black and white. So now we have a TV that reads both, a videorecorder
that reads both, no idea what the DVD player reads - but it seems to
work.
Now, my husband bought a movie (US movie) at Copenhagen airport.
Surprise surprise. It has the English original version, and then it has
Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, Finnish and I think something as weird as
Estonian. Audio and subtitles. But no English subtitles.
"Lola rennt", a German movie, I bought in Germany. It has the German
audio and subtitles and also English subs. That's it.
Most French movies have French audio and subs. Nothing else. Don't know
what they have when they're coded region 1, but coded for region 2
that's it. Our Irish friend G. is very annoyed because his French is so
bad. I like watching movies in their original language, even when I
don't speak it. And when they are in English, sometimes I need
subtitles - and I would love to have those in English, too.
Sometimes, I suspect, it really is a possiblity to be too smart for
your own good. Heheheheheh. Ducking and running. --- Will have more up
later in the day. I'm currently working on something and I want to make
sure I have it just right before I post. In the meanwhile, go and read
this, which will undoubtedly win the award for most linked to story of the day---but for good reason.
Lileks needs to learn that his germ paranoia is the reason why he seems to get colds all the time.
Vodkaboy is back from his extended leave---with a vengeance. Check him out. Seems the break did him some good.
See you in a little while.
Posted by: Kathy at
12:13 PM
| No Comments
| Add Comment
Post contains 850 words, total size 5 kb.
--- Ok, need to keep
--- Ok, need to keep this short and sweet today—I actually have a
life today. Errands to run, shirts to iron, people to see, and the
husband is cooking Rosti for dinner tonight.
It̢۪s going to be a busy day, so I shall get to it.
--- How long did you think it’s going to take this to hit the mainstream press? Yeah, the Hindustan Times is a big paper in India, but, amazingly enough, this is the only place the husband and I can find itâ€Â¦and it’s an AP
story. Hmmmm.
It̢۪s a very vague article, and God only knows the Kuwaitis can be
maddening with their release of details. I can̢۪t imagine why they̢۪d
want to keep this one quiet, though, so eventually the details will be
released and---keep your fingers crossed---the mainstream, western
media will grab onto it.
What I want to know is which European country were the WMD̢۪s going to?
--- I̢۪m sneaking more Economist
today for you. The same rules apply. It̢۪s copyrighted by them, 2003,
and you̢۪re not going to rat on me for republishing it here without
their permission. Right? Right! This is too juicy for me to let slide.
We̢۪ve got a big ol̢۪ hypocrisy alert. Have a good laugh. I know I
did. Italian Fashion and Texan Justice: Dressed to Kill
Austin
From bright jerseys to last meals
If Benetton wanted attention, it has found it. In 2000, the fashion
company—famous for putting bloody newborn babies and the dying on its
billboards---ran a glossy advertisement featuring inmates from various
death rows around America. The ad campaign caused fury for its use of
convicted killers as fashion props---and the company apologized to the
families of their victims. Now comes the news that Carlo Benetton, the
company̢۪s deputy-chairman, has quietly sold his 11,000-acre Buffalo
Ranch to the state of Texas for use by its prison system, the largest
conveyor-belt of death in America. Mr. Benetton had apparently wanted
the prime river-bottom land to grow cotton for the company̢۪s clothing
line, until he discovered that, as a foreigner, he could not get
government subsidies. Now the farmland---which lies between Austin, the
state capitol, and Huntsville, home of the “Walls†Unit death
chamber---will produce cotton for prisoners̢۪ uniforms and corn for
their (last) meals. The large plantation house, complete with swimming
pool, will be used as a conference center for prison officials. If Mr.
Benetton had misgivings about selling the farm to purveyors of death,
he did not convey that to Tom Fordyce. Mr. Fordyce, who runs the Texas
prison system̢۪s massive farm operations (145,000 acres, 20m pounds of
vegetables a year, its own beef and pork processing plants) says the
fashion mogul was ready to sell “right on the spotâ€; “He’s a
business man, and this was a business transaction.â€
Benetton officials in New York did not return telephone calls. Butnnot
the firm and the Texas prison warders are on such good terms, one can
only imagine the advertising possibilities.â€
Oh, tee hee. If Benetton wants to rip the death penalty up one side and
down the other with their advertising, I don̢۪t really care all that
much. It̢۪s a free country. But, what I find incredibly funny is that
they̢۪re making money on the corrupt, immoral practice they condemned.
And if what Fordyce says happened, actually did happen, well, they were
damn happy about it, too. Particularly when they couldn̢۪t get the
American government to cough up for cotton subsidies. What do you want
to bet that if some enterprising reporter requested their tax records
for the property they̢۪d find that the company had claimed the whole
thing as a write-off, even though they were able to sell the land? ---
Here̢۪s your Chuckle for the Day.
So, what happens if the confiscation doesn̢۪t work? Will it escalate to shooting Fido̢۪s kneecaps? Pay up, or Fido gets it?
Sick, sick bastards. Although, I don̢۪t think the husband would mind
if they shot a few cats along the way: a few less in the world to make
him deathly ill would probably make his day a happy one
[post hijacked by "the husband"] Cats are t3h 3\/1| !!
life today. Errands to run, shirts to iron, people to see, and the
husband is cooking Rosti for dinner tonight.
It̢۪s going to be a busy day, so I shall get to it.
--- How long did you think it’s going to take this to hit the mainstream press? Yeah, the Hindustan Times is a big paper in India, but, amazingly enough, this is the only place the husband and I can find itâ€Â¦and it’s an AP
story. Hmmmm.
It̢۪s a very vague article, and God only knows the Kuwaitis can be
maddening with their release of details. I can̢۪t imagine why they̢۪d
want to keep this one quiet, though, so eventually the details will be
released and---keep your fingers crossed---the mainstream, western
media will grab onto it.
What I want to know is which European country were the WMD̢۪s going to?
--- I̢۪m sneaking more Economist
today for you. The same rules apply. It̢۪s copyrighted by them, 2003,
and you̢۪re not going to rat on me for republishing it here without
their permission. Right? Right! This is too juicy for me to let slide.
We̢۪ve got a big ol̢۪ hypocrisy alert. Have a good laugh. I know I
did. Italian Fashion and Texan Justice: Dressed to Kill
Austin
From bright jerseys to last meals
If Benetton wanted attention, it has found it. In 2000, the fashion
company—famous for putting bloody newborn babies and the dying on its
billboards---ran a glossy advertisement featuring inmates from various
death rows around America. The ad campaign caused fury for its use of
convicted killers as fashion props---and the company apologized to the
families of their victims. Now comes the news that Carlo Benetton, the
company̢۪s deputy-chairman, has quietly sold his 11,000-acre Buffalo
Ranch to the state of Texas for use by its prison system, the largest
conveyor-belt of death in America. Mr. Benetton had apparently wanted
the prime river-bottom land to grow cotton for the company̢۪s clothing
line, until he discovered that, as a foreigner, he could not get
government subsidies. Now the farmland---which lies between Austin, the
state capitol, and Huntsville, home of the “Walls†Unit death
chamber---will produce cotton for prisoners̢۪ uniforms and corn for
their (last) meals. The large plantation house, complete with swimming
pool, will be used as a conference center for prison officials. If Mr.
Benetton had misgivings about selling the farm to purveyors of death,
he did not convey that to Tom Fordyce. Mr. Fordyce, who runs the Texas
prison system̢۪s massive farm operations (145,000 acres, 20m pounds of
vegetables a year, its own beef and pork processing plants) says the
fashion mogul was ready to sell “right on the spotâ€; “He’s a
business man, and this was a business transaction.â€
Benetton officials in New York did not return telephone calls. Butnnot
the firm and the Texas prison warders are on such good terms, one can
only imagine the advertising possibilities.â€
Oh, tee hee. If Benetton wants to rip the death penalty up one side and
down the other with their advertising, I don̢۪t really care all that
much. It̢۪s a free country. But, what I find incredibly funny is that
they̢۪re making money on the corrupt, immoral practice they condemned.
And if what Fordyce says happened, actually did happen, well, they were
damn happy about it, too. Particularly when they couldn̢۪t get the
American government to cough up for cotton subsidies. What do you want
to bet that if some enterprising reporter requested their tax records
for the property they̢۪d find that the company had claimed the whole
thing as a write-off, even though they were able to sell the land? ---
Here̢۪s your Chuckle for the Day.
So, what happens if the confiscation doesn̢۪t work? Will it escalate to shooting Fido̢۪s kneecaps? Pay up, or Fido gets it?
Sick, sick bastards. Although, I don̢۪t think the husband would mind
if they shot a few cats along the way: a few less in the world to make
him deathly ill would probably make his day a happy one
[post hijacked by "the husband"] Cats are t3h 3\/1| !!
Posted by: Kathy at
12:13 PM
| No Comments
| Add Comment
Post contains 700 words, total size 5 kb.
--- Good. Even better. I
--- Good.
Even better.
I don̢۪t want to give John Paul II too a hard time, because I think,
underneath all of the politicking and agenda pushing, he is a very holy
man. Yes, you read that correctly. No matter what problems I have with
the Church, he is not responsible for all of them. If nothing else, his
failure to be brave enough to push the Church further, to challenge the
conceptions of the Curia and the conservatives, is enough to convince
me that, even if he is the Pope, he really is just a priest wrought
large. He has faith, and he struggles with it; that convinces me of his
goodness. I̢۪ve seen on TV and read stories from people who have
prayed with him and who had a palpable sense, that, yes, he was
actually communicating directly with God. No one prays harder than he
does. Those qualifications given, I̢۪m glad they didn̢۪t give him the
Peace Prize. There̢۪s no question of him deserving it. He does. He
played a massive role in ridding the world of Communism, and for that,
we should thank him. But not having the courage to bring the largest
organized religion in the world into the 21st Century speaks volumes,
and no amount of success in bringing down a much hated and repressive
ideological system is going to make up for the fact he failed to
confront the big challenge that was presented to him when he became
Pope: to bring a church---a church that is potentially the largest
force for social justice in the world---together. He chickened out. I
fail to see the argument to reward him for his cowardice.
--- Is Sex Necessary?
Duh.
--- Vodkapundit
has an interesting piece on China̢۪s first manned space flight this
morning. I, too, find the notion of space to be a very exciting one. I,
too, think we need to figure out what̢۪s going on up there and how we
can best harness the potential of space. I̢۪m not saying I̢۪ll ever
sign up to be a part of colonizing the moon or Mars (I̢۪m of the
opinion that good ol̢۪ Earth is the best place in the universe to be:
why should we try to improve on perfection?), but I can see the need to
explore up there.
Stephen̢۪s got a point about this: With the Soviet bear dead and buried, maybe we need Chinese competition to give us back our derring-do.
Yes, it̢۪s true. We did work hard on going to the moon, partly, to
beat the Soviets back. Competition does spur creativity. But this next
bit is irrational given our current capabilities. “And then there's the threat to be considered.
I recently finished re-reading George & Meredith Friedman's 1996
book, The Future of War. In it, they make the persuasive case that if
American power is to survive, it must include control of space, at
least out to the 22,241-mile point of geosynchronous orbits.
(Note: This is the Friedman's second book. Their first, 1990's The
Coming War with Japan, is laughable just by the title. And in the
build-up to Desert Storm, George claimed we faced two years of war and
tens of thousands of casualties. This more recent book contains some
howlers, too, but their point on space control is well taken.)
America can't fight its wars, warn its allies of danger, or even aim
its smartest weapons without intelligence and communications provided
by satellites. Even today, our civilian economy could barely function
without reliable satellite communications. And in the coming age of
hypersonic orbital "cruise" missiles, semi-robotic "Starship
Trooper"-type soldiers, and other such exotica, protecting our space
assets will become just as vital tomorrow as it is today to protect our
aircraft carriers.
China's space program isn't just another reason to be hopeful that
mankind can, perhaps, outlive the rock where we evolved. It could also
be a knife at our jugular.
I hope the Chinese example spurs us all on to further peaceful uses of
space. But the future of war lies there, too – and we can't afford a
December 7 or a September 11 in orbit.â€
To presume that there is, indeed, a threat against our satellites would
also require making the presumption that a country---whomever---has
also come up with the technology to take out satellites in such a way
that would not harm their own satellites. Currently, the only
technology I̢۪m aware of that will disable a satellite, besides just
hitting it with a rock, is a low-earth-orbit EMP blast, and that
technology has not been refined enough to do the job. Currently, the
only people I can see that this would be a benefit for are Luddites,
and even they wouldn̢۪t know how to do it. Such a thing is not
possible, now, nor will it, I suspect, be a possibility in the next
seventy-five years at the rate science is progressing in regards to
space based technology. It is wishful thinking on Stephen̢۪s part to
assume that the Chinese, who are just getting around to things the US
achieved forty years ago, will spur NASA to get its act together, let
alone that this will make governments think that their satellites are
vulnerable and need protecting in the first place. --- Chuckle for the Day.
I̢۪m fairly certain the Vatican has a press release all typed up and
ready to go, condemning such a thing.
Ya̢۪ think?
---I did not go swimsuit shopping yesterday. I just couldn̢۪t bring
myself to go and do the most horrible thing you can do as a woman: try
on swimsuits. This, undoubtedly, is the task that sucks more
efficiently at your soul than an industrial strength vacuum cleaner on
a dirty carpet. I would skip it entirely if I could, alas, however, the
siren call of the beach is ringing in my ears and my plane ticket
states rather clearly that I must be on board tomorrow night or my
frequent flyer miles will go to waste. My task is clear. All that
remains is for me to accomplish it. Pray for me. I̢۪m going here
tomorrow.
Yes,
white sand, green sea, my parents and my fat ass hanging out. A good
time will be had by all. However, there are two glitches. Firstly, the
husband has to work, so he will not be joining me. I̢۪m pretty sad
about this because I love my sweetie and don̢۪t like to be away from
home without him. I wish he was coming with. Dems da breaks,
however. Secondly, there is only one phone line in the folks̢۪ condo.
This is bad on many fronts: my parents are bringing their own computer
with them and have top priority on the dial-up line and my mother is a
chatty soul who likes talking on the phone and despises having it tied
up. I am taking wee bastard with me, but I am low woman on the totem
pole when it comes to accessing the phone line, so I will not be
producing the Cake Eater Chronicles next week. It would be just too
much of a pain on everyone involved; it̢۪s best to scrap the idea of
remote blogging this time around. (We̢۪re not even going to mention
that I have a nasty habit of forgetting there is such a thing as the
Internet when I̢۪m on the beach.)
But, there is good news: you, my faithful readers, will have a whole
week of guest bloggers! Friends Mr. H., ML, and the man you all know
and love as “the husband†will be taking it over until I get back
and can resume my queenly duties. Mr. H, will be writing on Monday and
Thursday; ML on Tuesday and Friday; and the husband on Wednesday. And
providing none of the four planes I have to travel on crash and I die a
fiery death, I will be back on Monday, October 20th, with many details
of my vacation. Have a great week. Enjoy the guest bloggers. They̢۪re
all people I love dearly. But, more importantly, I respect their
intelligence, their points of view and their ability to get them
across, and I hope you will as well.
Oh, just in case you were wondering, I still haven̢۪t found the All You Can̢۪t Leave Behind disc yet. Sigh.
Even better.
I don̢۪t want to give John Paul II too a hard time, because I think,
underneath all of the politicking and agenda pushing, he is a very holy
man. Yes, you read that correctly. No matter what problems I have with
the Church, he is not responsible for all of them. If nothing else, his
failure to be brave enough to push the Church further, to challenge the
conceptions of the Curia and the conservatives, is enough to convince
me that, even if he is the Pope, he really is just a priest wrought
large. He has faith, and he struggles with it; that convinces me of his
goodness. I̢۪ve seen on TV and read stories from people who have
prayed with him and who had a palpable sense, that, yes, he was
actually communicating directly with God. No one prays harder than he
does. Those qualifications given, I̢۪m glad they didn̢۪t give him the
Peace Prize. There̢۪s no question of him deserving it. He does. He
played a massive role in ridding the world of Communism, and for that,
we should thank him. But not having the courage to bring the largest
organized religion in the world into the 21st Century speaks volumes,
and no amount of success in bringing down a much hated and repressive
ideological system is going to make up for the fact he failed to
confront the big challenge that was presented to him when he became
Pope: to bring a church---a church that is potentially the largest
force for social justice in the world---together. He chickened out. I
fail to see the argument to reward him for his cowardice.
--- Is Sex Necessary?
Duh.
--- Vodkapundit
has an interesting piece on China̢۪s first manned space flight this
morning. I, too, find the notion of space to be a very exciting one. I,
too, think we need to figure out what̢۪s going on up there and how we
can best harness the potential of space. I̢۪m not saying I̢۪ll ever
sign up to be a part of colonizing the moon or Mars (I̢۪m of the
opinion that good ol̢۪ Earth is the best place in the universe to be:
why should we try to improve on perfection?), but I can see the need to
explore up there.
Stephen̢۪s got a point about this: With the Soviet bear dead and buried, maybe we need Chinese competition to give us back our derring-do.
Yes, it̢۪s true. We did work hard on going to the moon, partly, to
beat the Soviets back. Competition does spur creativity. But this next
bit is irrational given our current capabilities. “And then there's the threat to be considered.
I recently finished re-reading George & Meredith Friedman's 1996
book, The Future of War. In it, they make the persuasive case that if
American power is to survive, it must include control of space, at
least out to the 22,241-mile point of geosynchronous orbits.
(Note: This is the Friedman's second book. Their first, 1990's The
Coming War with Japan, is laughable just by the title. And in the
build-up to Desert Storm, George claimed we faced two years of war and
tens of thousands of casualties. This more recent book contains some
howlers, too, but their point on space control is well taken.)
America can't fight its wars, warn its allies of danger, or even aim
its smartest weapons without intelligence and communications provided
by satellites. Even today, our civilian economy could barely function
without reliable satellite communications. And in the coming age of
hypersonic orbital "cruise" missiles, semi-robotic "Starship
Trooper"-type soldiers, and other such exotica, protecting our space
assets will become just as vital tomorrow as it is today to protect our
aircraft carriers.
China's space program isn't just another reason to be hopeful that
mankind can, perhaps, outlive the rock where we evolved. It could also
be a knife at our jugular.
I hope the Chinese example spurs us all on to further peaceful uses of
space. But the future of war lies there, too – and we can't afford a
December 7 or a September 11 in orbit.â€
To presume that there is, indeed, a threat against our satellites would
also require making the presumption that a country---whomever---has
also come up with the technology to take out satellites in such a way
that would not harm their own satellites. Currently, the only
technology I̢۪m aware of that will disable a satellite, besides just
hitting it with a rock, is a low-earth-orbit EMP blast, and that
technology has not been refined enough to do the job. Currently, the
only people I can see that this would be a benefit for are Luddites,
and even they wouldn̢۪t know how to do it. Such a thing is not
possible, now, nor will it, I suspect, be a possibility in the next
seventy-five years at the rate science is progressing in regards to
space based technology. It is wishful thinking on Stephen̢۪s part to
assume that the Chinese, who are just getting around to things the US
achieved forty years ago, will spur NASA to get its act together, let
alone that this will make governments think that their satellites are
vulnerable and need protecting in the first place. --- Chuckle for the Day.
I̢۪m fairly certain the Vatican has a press release all typed up and
ready to go, condemning such a thing.
Ya̢۪ think?
---I did not go swimsuit shopping yesterday. I just couldn̢۪t bring
myself to go and do the most horrible thing you can do as a woman: try
on swimsuits. This, undoubtedly, is the task that sucks more
efficiently at your soul than an industrial strength vacuum cleaner on
a dirty carpet. I would skip it entirely if I could, alas, however, the
siren call of the beach is ringing in my ears and my plane ticket
states rather clearly that I must be on board tomorrow night or my
frequent flyer miles will go to waste. My task is clear. All that
remains is for me to accomplish it. Pray for me. I̢۪m going here
tomorrow.
white sand, green sea, my parents and my fat ass hanging out. A good
time will be had by all. However, there are two glitches. Firstly, the
husband has to work, so he will not be joining me. I̢۪m pretty sad
about this because I love my sweetie and don̢۪t like to be away from
home without him. I wish he was coming with. Dems da breaks,
however. Secondly, there is only one phone line in the folks̢۪ condo.
This is bad on many fronts: my parents are bringing their own computer
with them and have top priority on the dial-up line and my mother is a
chatty soul who likes talking on the phone and despises having it tied
up. I am taking wee bastard with me, but I am low woman on the totem
pole when it comes to accessing the phone line, so I will not be
producing the Cake Eater Chronicles next week. It would be just too
much of a pain on everyone involved; it̢۪s best to scrap the idea of
remote blogging this time around. (We̢۪re not even going to mention
that I have a nasty habit of forgetting there is such a thing as the
Internet when I̢۪m on the beach.)
But, there is good news: you, my faithful readers, will have a whole
week of guest bloggers! Friends Mr. H., ML, and the man you all know
and love as “the husband†will be taking it over until I get back
and can resume my queenly duties. Mr. H, will be writing on Monday and
Thursday; ML on Tuesday and Friday; and the husband on Wednesday. And
providing none of the four planes I have to travel on crash and I die a
fiery death, I will be back on Monday, October 20th, with many details
of my vacation. Have a great week. Enjoy the guest bloggers. They̢۪re
all people I love dearly. But, more importantly, I respect their
intelligence, their points of view and their ability to get them
across, and I hope you will as well.
Oh, just in case you were wondering, I still haven̢۪t found the All You Can̢۪t Leave Behind disc yet. Sigh.
Posted by: Kathy at
10:58 AM
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