You know, I've never been a cat person. Dogs, at least, will give you unconditional love in exchange for the disgusting food you feed them. Cats, on the other hand, will ignore you until they're hungry, when they'll yowl in a loud and obnoxious manner until you feed them.
And sometimes, they might even consent to lie next to you and let you pet them.
But, despite the obvious similarities between cats, as it turns out, they have distinctly different personalities. As I've mentioned elsewhere, I seem to have become the zookeeper for a collection of (among other beasts) four different cats. And here's the way you tell them apart (aside from relatively insignificant differences in size and fur color, of course).
Our primary cat, Bucky, is a large (but not quite overweight) orange tabby beast, whose primary purpose in life is finding a comfortable place to sit. She has the gift of immovable stubbornness, in that if she's sitting somewhere, that place is off limits for everybody else in the family. She will even stare down the dogs, if they deign to intrude on her space. Once she's ensconced herself in a seat, it is, by God, hers. Nobody dares to move her.
Except me, of course. Because I'm apparently a bastard. I'll just sweep her from whatever spot I plan to sit down in, and plant my butt right in the recently-vacated cat-shaped dimple (and then get yelled at by my wife for being mean to the poor little kitty).
Screw it. There's only one computer chair, and I'm not going to learn to type standing up at this point in my life. But if you're looking for two words to describe Bucky, I think I've encompassed them in the last two paragraphs. "Stubborn" and "lazy."
But then there's our second cat, Phantom. Ugliest beast you ever saw. In a moment of weakness, I said that we could have a second cat ("But only one!" You see how well that worked out...) to keep the first one company. My only rule was that we should get a kitten. (Hey, I like kittens. What's your point?) And we ended up with a black-and-brown mottled beast with a light spot across one eye. My wife says it looks like the Phantom of the Opera mask. Hence the name.
Personally, I think it looks like an irregular birthmark, but nobody wants to hear my opinion. (I remember when the "man of the house" was respected. What the hell happened to that perfectly good attitude?)
Phantom (occasionally Menace, as in "the Phantom Menace") is a bully. She's the second biggest cat in the house, and she figures it's her duty to keep the other cats in shape. She's their personal trainer - her exercise regimen consists of jumping on them from darkened corners, attacking them when they're asleep, and generally making life "interesting" for them.
She doesn't do this to Bucky, because Bucky wouldn't stand for it. But she still has two other cats to annoy, so she's happy.
So let's consider those two other cants. We have Pandora, who's supposed to belong to my daughter. (Oddly enough, the daughter moved out, but the cat's still here. How the hell does that happen?) Pure black, small for her age, and needy. I stopped having to wake up for two o'clock feedings years ago. Nonetheless, I still find myself wandering down the hall at God-awful early hours of the night, to grab the lonely cat yowling in despair and lob her into my son's room. (Hey, let him take care of her. I'm going back to bed...) She can't stand to be alone, and she'll sob piteously if she suddenly thinks that everyone has left.
Not that anyone has. She's just on the wrong end of the house, and doesn't have the brains to find her way back to us, across that huge 20-yard expanse of rug, without getting lost.
And finally, we have Abby. (Short for, as far as I'm concerned, Abby-normal.) No matter how stupid Pandora might be, she's a Nobel Prize winner next to Abby. I have actually seen Abby jump for a windowsill and miss. Three times. I have seen her sitting at the end of the hallway, watching as Pandora gets mugged by Phantom: Pandora runs away, Phantom retreats into her shadowed corner. And Abby goes marching down the hall, right into the kill-zone where even the houseplants can figure out that Phantom is going to attack her.
All the brains of a ball-peen hammer. I wonder sometimes why Darwin doesn't come back from the dead and kill her himself.
Abby has issues. For example, she doesn't like cat food. She'll eat it, if forced, but she prefers dog food. In fact, she loves it so much that I've come into the kitchen to find one of the dogs snorking up the kibble like a vacuum cleaner on steroids, and there, on the other side of the bowl, is Abby, coated in flying dog-spittle, delicately munching away.
So yes, if forced, I will admit that cats have personalities. Maybe not good ones, but personalities.
I still prefer dogs.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Let's check in on Michelle Malkin
So, here's what we have.
On October 20, 1970, Michelle Maglalang was born to Filipino parents in the United States on a work visa (a fact that her official bio is strangely silent about, although you can find it mentioned in passing at other sites). She married college sweetheart Jesse Malkin (who some have accused of being her puppet-master/co-writer, or at least the source of her political leanings), and began writing under the name (you guessed it) Michelle Malkin.
She recently made some statements critical of "anchor babies" - babies that foreign nationals have in the United States, which those damned brown people (or as she calls them, "obstetric tourists") use to gain American citizenship. A scenario which sounds strangely like her own biography.
The General, in another brilliant letter, called her on this apparent hypocrisy. Somehow, I doubt that she'll reply to him.
Hell, she never sent me an answer. Not that I'm bitter or anything.
On October 20, 1970, Michelle Maglalang was born to Filipino parents in the United States on a work visa (a fact that her official bio is strangely silent about, although you can find it mentioned in passing at other sites). She married college sweetheart Jesse Malkin (who some have accused of being her puppet-master/co-writer, or at least the source of her political leanings), and began writing under the name (you guessed it) Michelle Malkin.
She recently made some statements critical of "anchor babies" - babies that foreign nationals have in the United States, which those damned brown people (or as she calls them, "obstetric tourists") use to gain American citizenship. A scenario which sounds strangely like her own biography.
The General, in another brilliant letter, called her on this apparent hypocrisy. Somehow, I doubt that she'll reply to him.
Hell, she never sent me an answer. Not that I'm bitter or anything.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Absentee Blogger
Haven't posted for two weeks or so. Major plumbing work in my house, and didn't have the time. Sorry for those (two) of you who are actually reading my babblings.
Here's some thoughts on home repair for you:
Here's some thoughts on home repair for you:
1. Every job takes three times as long as you allow for it. Even if you budget for three times as long, you've then moved the end date up three times farther into the future.
2. Just when you think you've got a handle on fixing one problem, something else breaks.2(a). If you think that you've got a handle on fixing one problem, you don't know the whole story.3. Pain is God's way of saying that you're doing it right.
2(b). Oh, yeah, and by the way. That other thing? It's still gonna break.3(a). Except when it isn't.4. You didn't need that knuckle, did you?
5. Hear that grinding noise? That's gonna cost you. Feel free to switch out "dripping," "whining," "snapping," or "crackling." Or no noise at all.
6. You know that wall board you just ripped out? Four choices.6(a). You didn't rip out enough.7. "Uh, honey? Did you remember to pay the homeowner's insurance?"
6(b). You ripped out wa-aaay too much.
6(c). You ripped out entirely the wrong one.
6(d). Hey, check out the new problem you just found!
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Blast from the (recent) past
I find myself easily distracted. I was never diagnosed with ADD or anything, but sometimes, I'm doing research for my little weekly (and mostly ignored by the American populace) blog/column, and I suddenly find myself at a complete standstill, reading something unrelated to the subject at hand.
Unless you were living under a rock for the past two months, you are probably aware of the Stephen Colbert speech, delivered six feet from George Bush, at the White House Correspondent's Association dinner. It was a masterpiece, but apparently, all of the people stunned by the audacity of Mr. Colbert is forgetting where he came from. He was one of the major writers/"performers" on The Daily Show, and about a year and a half ago, the spokesmodel from The Daily Show, Jon Stewart, appeared on Crossfire, and pretty much destroyed that show. It was cancelled shortly after Mr. Stewart's appearance, and it also brought to Tucker Carlson's attention what a stupid piece of clothing a bowtie actually is.
So here's the appearance that ended a news program, and which shows the fetal appearance of the attitude that brought us the Stephen Colbert speech.
(It's slightly, but only slightly, edited for readability. I removed most of the superfluous "(LAUGHTER)" and "(CROSSTALK)" lines. I kept a few, when laughter was more of a punctuation, not just a random sound).
Unless you were living under a rock for the past two months, you are probably aware of the Stephen Colbert speech, delivered six feet from George Bush, at the White House Correspondent's Association dinner. It was a masterpiece, but apparently, all of the people stunned by the audacity of Mr. Colbert is forgetting where he came from. He was one of the major writers/"performers" on The Daily Show, and about a year and a half ago, the spokesmodel from The Daily Show, Jon Stewart, appeared on Crossfire, and pretty much destroyed that show. It was cancelled shortly after Mr. Stewart's appearance, and it also brought to Tucker Carlson's attention what a stupid piece of clothing a bowtie actually is.
So here's the appearance that ended a news program, and which shows the fetal appearance of the attitude that brought us the Stephen Colbert speech.
(It's slightly, but only slightly, edited for readability. I removed most of the superfluous "(LAUGHTER)" and "(CROSSTALK)" lines. I kept a few, when laughter was more of a punctuation, not just a random sound).
BEGALA: Welcome back to CROSSFIRE. As both of our loyal viewers, of course, know, our show is about all left vs. white, black vs. white, paper vs. plastic, Red Sox against the Yankees. That's why every day, we have two guests with their own unique perspective on the news. But today, CROSSFIRE is very difficult. We have just one guest. He's either the funniest smart guy on TV or the smartest funnyman. We'll find out which in a minute. But he's certainly an Emmy Award winner, the host of Comedy Central's "Daily Show" and the co-author of the new mega best-seller "America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction," at your bookstores everywhere. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the CROSSFIRE Jon Stewart.There you go. Just another piece of pop history that we all need to remember.
STEWART: Thank you.
CARLSON: Thank you for joining us.
STEWART: Thank you very much. That was very kind of you to say. Can I say something very quickly? Why do we have to fight? (laughter) The two of you? Can't we just -- say something nice about John Kerry right now.
CARLSON: I like John. I care about John Kerry.
STEWART: And something about President Bush.
BEGALA: He'll be unemployed soon? (laughter) I failed the test. I'm sorry.
CARLSON: See, I made the effort anyway.
BEGALA: No, actually, I knew Bush in Texas a little bit. And the truth is, he's actually a great guy. He's not a very good president. But he's actually a very good person. I don't think you should have to hate to oppose somebody, but it makes it easier. (laughter)
STEWART: Why do you argue, the two of you? (laughter) I hate to see it.
CARLSON: We enjoy it.
STEWART: Let me ask you a question.
CARLSON: Well, let me ask you a question first.
STEWART: All right.
CARLSON: Is John Kerry -- is John Kerry really the best? I mean, John Kerry has...
STEWART: Is he the best? I thought Lincoln was good.
CARLSON: Is he the best the Democrats can do? This year, of the whole field.
STEWART: I had always thought, in a democracy -- and, again, I don't know -- I've only lived in this country -- that there's a process. They call them primaries.
CARLSON: Right.
STEWART: And they don't always go with the best, but they go with whoever won. So is he the best? According to the process.
CARLSON: Right. But of the nine guys running, who do you think was best. Do you think he was the best, the most impressive?
STEWART: The most impressive?
CARLSON: Yes.
STEWART: I thought Al Sharpton was very impressive. I enjoyed his way of speaking. I think, oftentimes, the person that knows they can't win is allowed to speak the most freely, because, otherwise, shows with titles, such as CROSSFIRE., or "HARDBALL" or "I'm Going to Kick Your Ass" or... (laughter) ...will jump on it. In many ways, it's funny. And I made a special effort to come on the show today, because I have privately, amongst my friends and also in occasional newspapers and television shows, mentioned this show as being bad.
BEGALA: We have noticed.
STEWART: And I wanted to -- I felt that that wasn't fair and I should come here and tell you that I don't -- it's not so much that it's bad, as it's hurting America.
CARLSON: But in its defense...
STEWART: So I wanted to come here today and say... Here's just what I wanted to tell you guys.
CARLSON: Yes.
STEWART: Stop. (laughter) Stop, stop, stop, stop hurting America. And come work for us, because we, as the people...
CARLSON: How do you pay?
STEWART: The people -- not well. (laughter)
BEGALA: Better than CNN, I'm sure.
STEWART: But you can sleep at night. See, the thing is, we need your help. Right now, you're helping the politicians and the corporations. And we're left out there to mow our lawns.
BEGALA: By beating up on them? You just said we're too rough on them when they make mistakes.
STEWART: No, no, no, you're not too rough on them. You're part of their strategies. You are partisan... what do you call it?... hacks.
CARLSON: Wait, Jon, let me tell you something valuable that I think we do that I'd like to see you...
STEWART: Something valuable?
CARLSON: Yes.
STEWART: I would like to hear it.
CARLSON: And I'll tell you. When politicians come on, it's nice to get them to try and answer the question. And in order to do that, we try and ask them pointed questions. I want to contrast our questions with some questions you asked John Kerry recently, up on the screen.
STEWART: If you want to compare your show to a comedy show, you're more than welcome to.
CARLSON: No, no, no, here's the point.
STEWART: If that's your goal.
CARLSON: It's not.
STEWART: I wouldn't aim for us. I'd aim for "Seinfeld." That's a very good show.
CARLSON: Kerry won't come on this show. He will come on your show.
STEWART: Right.
CARLSON: Let me suggest why he wants to come on your show.
STEWART: Well, we have civilized discourse.
CARLSON: Well, here's an example of the civilized discourse. Here are three of the questions you asked John Kerry. You have a chance to interview the Democratic nominee. You asked him questions such as, quote, "How are you holding up? Is it hard not to take the attacks personally?"
STEWART: Yes.
CARLSON: "Have you ever flip-flopped?" et cetera, et cetera.
STEWART: Yes.
CARLSON: Didn't you feel like -- you got the chance to interview the guy. Why not ask him a real question, instead of just suck up to him?
STEWART: Yes. "How are you holding up?" is a real suck-up. And I was actually giving him a hot stone massage as we were doing it.
CARLSON: It sounded that way. It did.
STEWART: You know, it's interesting to hear you talk about my responsibility.
CARLSON: I felt the sparks between you.
STEWART: I didn't realize that -- and maybe this explains quite a bit -- that the news organizations look to Comedy Central for their cues on integrity. (laughter) So what I would suggest is, when you talk about you're holding politicians' feet to fire, I think that's disingenuous. I think you're...
CARLSON: "How are you holding up?" I mean, come on.
STEWART: No, no, no. But my role isn't, I don't think...
CARLSON: But you can ask him a real question, don't you think, instead of saying...
STEWART: I don't think I have to. By the way, I also asked him, "Were you in Cambodia?" But I didn't really care. (laughter) Because I don't care, because I think it's stupid.
CARLSON: I can tell.
STEWART: But my point is this. If your idea of confronting me is that I don't ask hard-hitting enough news questions, we're in bad shape, fellows. (laughter)
CARLSON: We're here to love you, not confront you. We're here to be nice.
STEWART: No, no, no, but what I'm saying is this. I'm not. I'm here to confront you, because we need help from the media and they're hurting us. And it's -- the idea is...
BEGALA: Let me get this straight. If the indictment is -- if the indictment is -- and I have seen you say this -- that... that CROSSFIRE reduces everything, as I said in the intro, to left, right, black, white.
STEWART: Yes.
BEGALA: Well, it's because, see, we're a debate show.
STEWART: No, no, no, no, that would be great.
BEGALA: It's like saying The Weather Channel reduces everything to a storm front.
STEWART: I would love to see a debate show.
BEGALA: We're 30 minutes in a 24-hour day where we have each side on, as best we can get them, and have them fight it out.
STEWART: No, no, no, no, that would be great. To do a debate would be great. But that's like saying pro wrestling is a show about athletic competition.
CARLSON: Jon, Jon, Jon, I'm sorry. I think you're a good comedian. I think your lectures are boring. Let me ask you a question on the news.
STEWART: Now, this is theater. It's obvious. How old are you?
CARLSON: Thirty-five.
STEWART: And you wear a bow tie. (laughter)
CARLSON: Yes, I do. I do.
STEWART: So this is...
CARLSON: I know. I know. I know. You're a...
STEWART: So this is theater.
CARLSON: Now, let me just...
STEWART: Now, listen, I'm not suggesting that you're not a smart guy, because those are not easy to tie.
CARLSON: They're difficult.
STEWART: But the thing is that this -- you're doing theater, when you should be doing debate, which would be great. It's not honest. What you do is not honest. What you do is partisan hackery. And I will tell you why I know it.
CARLSON: You had John Kerry on your show and you sniff his throne and you're accusing us of partisan hackery?
STEWART: Absolutely.
CARLSON: You've got to be kidding me. He comes on and you...
STEWART: You're on CNN. The show that leads into me is puppets making crank phone calls. What is wrong with you?
CARLSON: Well, I'm just saying, there's no reason for you -- when you have this marvelous opportunity not to be the guy's butt boy, to go ahead and be his butt boy. Come on. It's embarrassing.
STEWART: I was absolutely his butt boy. I was so far -- you would not believe what he ate two weeks ago... You know, the interesting thing is, you have a responsibility to the public discourse, and you fail miserably.
CARLSON: You need to get a job at a journalism school, I think.
STEWART: You need to go to one. The thing that I want to say is, when you have people on for just knee-jerk, reactionary talk...
CARLSON: Wait. I thought you were going to be funny. Come on. Be funny.
STEWART: No. No. I'm not going to be your monkey.
BEGALA: Go ahead. Go ahead.
STEWART: I watch your show every day. And it kills me.
CARLSON: I can tell you love it.
STEWART: It's so -- oh, it's so painful to watch. You know, because we need what you do. This is such a great opportunity you have here to actually get politicians off of their marketing and strategy.
CARLSON: Is this really Jon Stewart? What is this, anyway?
STEWART: Yes, it's someone who watches your show and cannot take it anymore. I just can't.
CARLSON: What's it like to have dinner with you? It must be excruciating. Do you like lecture people like this or do you come over to their house and sit and lecture them; they're not doing the right thing, that they're missing their opportunities, evading their responsibilities?
STEWART: If I think they are.
CARLSON: I wouldn't want to eat with you, man. That's horrible.
STEWART: I know. And you won't. But the thing I want to get to...
BEGALA: We did promise naked pictures of the Supreme Court justices.
CARLSON: Yes, we did. Let's get to those.
BEGALA: They're in this book, which is a very funny book.
STEWART: Why can't we just talk -- please, I beg of you guys, please.
CARLSON: I think you watch too much CROSSFIRE. We're going to take a quick break.
STEWART: No, no, no, please.
CARLSON: No, no, hold on. We've got commercials.
STEWART: Please. Please stop.
CARLSON: Next, Jon Stewart in the "Rapid Fire."
STEWART: Please stop.
CARLSON: Hopefully, he'll be here, we hope, we think.
(Here, we cut a chunk where Wolf Blitzer pimps his own show)
CARLSON: Welcome back to CROSSFIRE. We're talking to Jon Stewart, who was just lecturing us on our moral inferiority. Jon, you're bumming us out. Tell us, what do you think about the Bill O'Reilly vibrator story?
STEWART: I'm sorry. I don't.
CARLSON: Oh, OK.
STEWART: What do you think?
BEGALA: Let me change the subject.
STEWART: Where's your moral outrage on this?
CARLSON: I don't have any.
STEWART: I know.
BEGALA: Which candidate do you suppose would provide you better material?
STEWART: I'm sorry?
BEGALA: Which candidate do you suppose would provide you better material if he won?
STEWART: Mr. T. I think he'd be the funniest. I don't...
BEGALA: Don't you have a stake in it that way, as not just a citizen, but as a professional comic?
STEWART: Right, which I hold to be much more important than as a citizen.
BEGALA: Well, there you go. But who would you provide you better material, do you suppose?
STEWART: I don't really know. That's kind of not how we look at it. We look at, the absurdity of the system provides us the most material. And that is best served by sort of the theater of it all, you know, which, by the way, thank you both, because it's been helpful.
CARLSON: But, if Kerry gets elected, is it going to -- you have said you're voting for him. You obviously support him. It's clear. Will it be harder for you to mock his administration if he becomes president?
STEWART: No. Why would it be harder?
CARLSON: Because you support...
STEWART: The only way it would be harder is if his administration is less absurd than this one. So, in that case, if it's less absurd, then, yes, I think it would be harder. But, I mean, it would be hard to top this group, quite frankly. In terms of absurdity and their world matching up to the one that -- you know, it was interesting. President Bush was saying, John Kerry's rhetoric doesn't match his record. But I've heard President Bush describe his record. His record doesn't match his record. So I don't worry about it in that respect. But let me ask you guys, again, a question, because we talked a little bit about, you're actually doing honest debate and all that. But, after the debates, where do you guys head to right afterwards?
CARLSON: The men's room.
STEWART: Right after that?
BEGALA: Home.
STEWART: Spin alley.
BEGALA: Home.
STEWART: No, spin alley.
BEGALA: What are you talking about? You mean at these debates?
STEWART: Yes. You go to spin alley, the place called spin alley. Now, don't you think that, for people watching at home, that's kind of a drag, that you're literally walking to a place called deception lane? ...Like, it's spin alley. It's -- don't you see, that's the issue I'm trying to talk to you guys...
BEGALA: No, I actually believe -- I have a lot of friends who work for President Bush. I went to college with some of them.
CARLSON: Neither of us was ever in the spin room, actually.
BEGALA: No, I did -- I went to do the Larry King show. They actually believe what they're saying. They want to persuade you. That's what they're trying to do by spinning. But I don't doubt for a minute these people who work for President Bush, who I disagree with on everything, they believe that stuff, Jon. This is not a lie or a deception at all. They believe in him, just like I believe in my guy.
STEWART: I think they believe President Bush would do a better job. And I believe the Kerry guys believe President Kerry would do a better job. But what I believe is, they're not making honest arguments. So what they're doing is, in their mind, the ends justify the means.
BEGALA: I don't think so at all.
CARLSON: I do think you're more fun on your show. Just my opinion. OK, up next, Jon Stewart goes one on one with his fans...
STEWART: You know what's interesting, though? You're as big a dick on your show as you are on any show.
CARLSON: Now, you're getting into it. I like that.
STEWART: Yes.
CARLSON: OK. We'll be right back.
(COMMERCIAL BREAK)
Sunday, May 14, 2006
What The Hell Is Your Major Malfunction, Private Pyle?
We've had a lot of trouble with reporters lately. First, the Stock Market tumbled because USA Today reported that the NSA was spying on Americans. And now, those America-hating traitors at the Hartford Courant reported that the Army was sending suicidal troops into combat.
It didn't matter if the troop's commander was aware of the situation, or whether the soldier was taking anti-depressants (which even GlaxoSmithKline now admits lead to an increased risk of suicide in younger patients), the soldiers were still deployed to Iraq.
Let's look at this statistically. Among the entire population of the United States, rates hover around nine suicides per 100,000; of course, this includes the entire population and all its extremes: the elderly, the terminally ill, and any number of other mental and physical states which could be considered statistical anomalies. The military, of course, weeds their personnel, to a certain extent, to remove the ill and the old; they also have psychological tests that are supposed to prevent some extremes of behavioral disparity (not that those tests are as effective as they could be).
Among the military, twenty-two deployed soldiers committed suicide last year, accounting for one in five of all non-combat deaths (this, of course, does not factor in any suicides that might have been made to look accidental), out of roughly 130,000 troops deployed to Iraq - or roughly 17 suicides per 100,000 people, almost twice the national average. And of course, even if they do get home, those soldiers will have a difficult time getting counseling, what with the VA withdrawing benefits related to a diagnosis of PTSD from Iraq veterans (in fact, the military is becoming positively apathetic toward what they called "shell shock" in World War One, redeploying soldiers diagnosed with PTSD to Iraq).
A study has been released showing that the British military has similar problems.The US Navy, suffering from increased suicide rates among their submariners, is at least trying to do something about it.
And it seems obvious how the enemy will use this report. First, they'll start playing sad songs twenty-four/seven on their radio stations. Then they'll start forging "Dear John" letters from home. And that will be the end for this Great American Experiment in Nation-Building.
It didn't matter if the troop's commander was aware of the situation, or whether the soldier was taking anti-depressants (which even GlaxoSmithKline now admits lead to an increased risk of suicide in younger patients), the soldiers were still deployed to Iraq.
Let's look at this statistically. Among the entire population of the United States, rates hover around nine suicides per 100,000; of course, this includes the entire population and all its extremes: the elderly, the terminally ill, and any number of other mental and physical states which could be considered statistical anomalies. The military, of course, weeds their personnel, to a certain extent, to remove the ill and the old; they also have psychological tests that are supposed to prevent some extremes of behavioral disparity (not that those tests are as effective as they could be).
Among the military, twenty-two deployed soldiers committed suicide last year, accounting for one in five of all non-combat deaths (this, of course, does not factor in any suicides that might have been made to look accidental), out of roughly 130,000 troops deployed to Iraq - or roughly 17 suicides per 100,000 people, almost twice the national average. And of course, even if they do get home, those soldiers will have a difficult time getting counseling, what with the VA withdrawing benefits related to a diagnosis of PTSD from Iraq veterans (in fact, the military is becoming positively apathetic toward what they called "shell shock" in World War One, redeploying soldiers diagnosed with PTSD to Iraq).
A study has been released showing that the British military has similar problems.The US Navy, suffering from increased suicide rates among their submariners, is at least trying to do something about it.
And it seems obvious how the enemy will use this report. First, they'll start playing sad songs twenty-four/seven on their radio stations. Then they'll start forging "Dear John" letters from home. And that will be the end for this Great American Experiment in Nation-Building.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
The Insanity Of The Bush Tax Cuts
This little rant was written by Andi Matheny, and originally posted on Hoffmania. It pretty accurately covers my thoughts on the subject. So why reinvent the wheel? Just check out how she put it.
Please pay attention to what happened in Congress today while you were working and raising your families.
In an election year, in order to appease the electorate, and because no one in government has the guts to face reality, Congress once again passed tax cuts. Here's how it breaks down:
If you earn 50,000 or less per year
You will save $2 - 46
If you earn 50,000 - 100,000 per year
You will save $110 - 403
If you earn 100,000 - 1 million per year
You will save $1388 - 5562
If you earn 1 million or more
You will save $41,977 (average)
Here's what was deleted from the tax cuts package:The war in Iraq has already cost us approximately $260 Billion dollars - we are spending around a billion a week for this war. This is the first time in history a war has been fought with tax cuts. Remember, we couldn't "afford" body armor for a number of our troops.
Deductions for state and local taxes
College tuition fees
School supplies for teachers who pay for them out of their pockets Businesses hiring welfare to work - (bringing people out of welfare)
By the end of the Bush presidency, our national debt will be $10 TRILLION dollars. If that was due today, it would cost each of us $28,000.
25% of our debt is carried by foreign countries. Japan is holding notes worth $673 Billion, and China comes in second at $265 Billion. If they decide another country is a better investment, we are in trouble.
This has been one of the most fiscally irresponsible administrations and Congresses in history. They are not doing what is right for our country - they are doing what they think YOU want them to do so they can get re-elected. They have no faith in the American people, nor have they asked Americans to make one sacrifice, besides the military and their families for this war in Iraq. In the meantime, Homeland Security is little better than it was 5 years ago, deep cuts have been made in school programs, and huge hikes in state colleges and student loans have put college out of reach for lower income kids. And the only people who are benefiting from these tax cuts? The top 2% tax bracket. And by the way, most economists agree, raising taxes on the top 2% will not have an adverse effect on the economy - but even if it did, which way do you want to gamble?
If this information has stirred you to take any action, please write to your representatives and tell them to have the guts to govern responsibly. If you have a blog, you have my permission to reprint this. Most people I know know the sacrifice my family has made for this war, and have asked me what they can do. Do this.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Poor Bewildered George
Sometimes, you almost have to pity George W. Bush.
Not a lot, really, since he essentially brought all his troubles on himself. But consider how things look from his perspective. Right now, he has to be feeling an emotion that most of us, as we grow into adulthood, leave behind.
Looking around at "his" country, he has to be feeling as if he can't do anything right.
In the larger sense, this is true. He screwed up all of the jobs he ever held. He couldn't even handle avoiding Vietnam by joining the National Guard - he rarely, if ever, showed up for duty. (Remember those National Guard documents that got a certain veteran news anchor fired? The facts were never in dispute. The documents themselves might have been forgeries, but the facts in them seemed to have been correct.)
And look at the situation lately. His Social Security "reform" was shot down. Despite his best efforts, scientists are coming forward to admit that global warming actually exists. It's becoming obvious, even to people who only watch Fox News, that Iraq is a disaster; this becomes even more obvious when retired generals are coming forward in droves to call for the firing of Donald Rumsfeld. Syndicated comedians named Colbert are standing five feet away from him, and mocking him by using talking points that Rush Limbaugh would be proud of.
His approval ratings are so low that squirrels trip over them. Because of his policies, America now owes more money to foreign governments than it did during the administrations of all of the previous presidents added together. Karl Rove is too busy worrying about becoming a prison bitch to properly smear the president's enemies. And his vice president shot a man in the face.
So Bush resorted to the tactic that got him elected for a second term, despite his obvious failings as an economist, a tactician, an administrator, and a human being. He tried to find an enemy to demonize.
This is a tactic that has usually worked well for him in the past. The fact that 11 states had gay marriage amendments on the ballots during the 2004 elections probably helped sweep him into a second term (the Diebold machines apparently had a lot to do with that, too, but let's not get into that right now). Admittedly, the fact that he demonized every Islamic person in the world, based on the actions of a few radical fundamentalists, blew up in his face when the Dubai ports issue came up. But for the most part, it's worked: liberals hate America, peace activists are supporting terrorism, and the French are evil smelly bastards.
But, looking around for a new enemy to grab the MTV-addled attention span of the American citizen, he found that old favorite, the illegal immigrant. And as soon as he tried to force the "wetback" stereotype into a more Satanic image, that soggy Chihuahua twisted around and bit him in the ass.
See, one thing that Bush didn't count on was that Big Business, his most faithful ally, wouldn't support him in this new Crusade. Because the dirty secret is, Big Business gets a lot of work done by people working for less than minimum wage. Sometimes, these people are in foreign countries (like sweatshops in the Marianas Islands, which Tom DeLay declared were "the perfect petri dish of capitalism"), and sometimes, it's a group of undocumented aliens somewhere in California or Georgia.
So pity George Bush. Everything he touches turns to dung. I just hope Laura Bush is properly supportive.
On the other hand, we still have two and a half more years with Bush in charge. So maybe you should pity America more.
Not a lot, really, since he essentially brought all his troubles on himself. But consider how things look from his perspective. Right now, he has to be feeling an emotion that most of us, as we grow into adulthood, leave behind.
Looking around at "his" country, he has to be feeling as if he can't do anything right.
In the larger sense, this is true. He screwed up all of the jobs he ever held. He couldn't even handle avoiding Vietnam by joining the National Guard - he rarely, if ever, showed up for duty. (Remember those National Guard documents that got a certain veteran news anchor fired? The facts were never in dispute. The documents themselves might have been forgeries, but the facts in them seemed to have been correct.)
And look at the situation lately. His Social Security "reform" was shot down. Despite his best efforts, scientists are coming forward to admit that global warming actually exists. It's becoming obvious, even to people who only watch Fox News, that Iraq is a disaster; this becomes even more obvious when retired generals are coming forward in droves to call for the firing of Donald Rumsfeld. Syndicated comedians named Colbert are standing five feet away from him, and mocking him by using talking points that Rush Limbaugh would be proud of.
His approval ratings are so low that squirrels trip over them. Because of his policies, America now owes more money to foreign governments than it did during the administrations of all of the previous presidents added together. Karl Rove is too busy worrying about becoming a prison bitch to properly smear the president's enemies. And his vice president shot a man in the face.
So Bush resorted to the tactic that got him elected for a second term, despite his obvious failings as an economist, a tactician, an administrator, and a human being. He tried to find an enemy to demonize.
This is a tactic that has usually worked well for him in the past. The fact that 11 states had gay marriage amendments on the ballots during the 2004 elections probably helped sweep him into a second term (the Diebold machines apparently had a lot to do with that, too, but let's not get into that right now). Admittedly, the fact that he demonized every Islamic person in the world, based on the actions of a few radical fundamentalists, blew up in his face when the Dubai ports issue came up. But for the most part, it's worked: liberals hate America, peace activists are supporting terrorism, and the French are evil smelly bastards.
But, looking around for a new enemy to grab the MTV-addled attention span of the American citizen, he found that old favorite, the illegal immigrant. And as soon as he tried to force the "wetback" stereotype into a more Satanic image, that soggy Chihuahua twisted around and bit him in the ass.
See, one thing that Bush didn't count on was that Big Business, his most faithful ally, wouldn't support him in this new Crusade. Because the dirty secret is, Big Business gets a lot of work done by people working for less than minimum wage. Sometimes, these people are in foreign countries (like sweatshops in the Marianas Islands, which Tom DeLay declared were "the perfect petri dish of capitalism"), and sometimes, it's a group of undocumented aliens somewhere in California or Georgia.
So pity George Bush. Everything he touches turns to dung. I just hope Laura Bush is properly supportive.
On the other hand, we still have two and a half more years with Bush in charge. So maybe you should pity America more.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
The Parable of The Weasel and the Music
A little story. It has no bearing on real life. It's just something to consider.
My wife is both the spiritual one in the family, and the musical one. For many years, she has been supplementing our income (sometimes very well) by directing church choirs. When I was still in the military, she often directed choirs at the base chapel. And, in fact, when I retired, she was already directing the Catholic choir on base, so she kept right on doing that.
Now, understand that she is not Catholic. However, she has often attended Episcopalian churches, which she likes to say is Catholic Lite: all the liturgy, but none of the Pope. (OK, technically, that last bit is mine. She does call it "Catholic Lite," but she's always careful not to say anything that could be taken as derogatory toward Catholicism, especially when she's working with Catholics. But I'm not as careful as she is...)
There are actually two Catholic services on base: the traditional service on Sunday morning, and a more "contemporary" service on Saturday evening. (If you can call anything "contemporary" that's based on almost 2000 years of tradition, anyway...)
Now, here's one place that military chapels differ from a regular church. A lot more military people go there. (Gee, I'll bet you could have figured that one out on your own, couldn't you?) And the Saturday service was directed by a colonel who we'll call "Col. Moon."
OK, in the interests of full disclosure here, let me explain that the choir directors are contractors, and by law, contractors to the military cannot be active-duty military. That's just how it is. So, technically, Col. Moon was not the choir director. His wife, a fairly drab woman named.... um... we'll just call her "Alice"... anyway, Alice was officially the director, but her husband was one of those pushy, annoying military types. He also, for no obvious reason, thought that he was musically talented.
In fact, let me just rant about Col. Moon for a while. In the course of 21 years in the Air Force, I worked with a number of officers, and he was definitely one of the worst. He was always confident in the absolute correctness of every thought that wandered quietly through that dark, empty place he called a brain. He was positive that he knew more about Catholicism than the priest, and he was also positive that he knew more about music than my wife, an operatically-trained spinto soprano with 41 years of training in every variety of music.
A quick aside about my wife: aside from her incredible voice, she can play piano and guitar, and she taught herself to play organ for a traditional church-sound in the services. She has played folk music, rock, jazz, classical music, gospel (she's pretty white, but she tries), opera (obviously), and in fact, two decades ago, she stage-managed for a jazz-bluegrass fusion band that is still touring (but without her, obviously). She even played backup for a kathakali troupe at one point.
So maybe she knows what she's talking about musically. What'd'ya think?
But none of that mattered to Col. Moon. Basically, he had two problems with my wife. The first was, obviously, her lack of papal attachment. And secondly, she is obviously much more musically talented than he is, and his tiny little ego couldn't take it.
Moon is not a popular man, incidentally. If he outranks you, he is dismissive with your opinions and vaguely abusive, so his subordinates don't like him. The computer people don't like him, because he can cause system-destroying errors in electronics merely by sitting in front of the keyboard. And the people who work in the chapel don't like him because he thinks that, by being a colonel, he is in charge of everything around him.
Just so you know, even though, as a colonel, Moon is relatively high-ranking, that's not how things work. An officer is only in charge of what he has been assigned as a job. But somehow, Moon has picked up the same opinion that a lot of scientists get - since he's an expert in one field, he must obviously be an expert in everything.
Now, here's where it gets weird. The priest was very happy with my wife's ability as a musician, and since Moon was leaving, Father Tim wanted her to take over the Saturday Mass, too. Nobody's sure why - maybe he just wanted to get good music in that service, too. It's hard to tell. But he set up the new contract so that one person would be in charge of both services.
To take this contract, you had to submit a résumé, and then a panel selected by the Parish Council questioned you. But we weren't too worried - my wife had years of experience, and a proven track record.
This wasn't news that Moon wanted to hear. His ego couldn't take it, apparently. Now, remember, he was leaving, and so he wouldn't be around to see her anymore. But the strain of using logic was too much for his little reptilian brain.
Moon wanted so badly to keep my wife out of "his" service that he started lobbying for another member of the congregation to take over, a woman who we'll call Nadine. And then, as a form of insurance, he brought in a ringer, a guy with no connection to the military, who'd never even attended the base chapel.
(Technically, that didn't work out too well for him. Take a note here - if you're going to bring in a ringer, the best choice would be a reliable ringer. Somebody, maybe, who will show up for his interview. It's just a thought.)
Anyway, back to our story. In his desperation to screw over my wife, Moon tried to get on the panel to appoint his successor. But that wasn't going to happen. The chapel manager, Don, saw from the beginning what Moon was trying to do, and was having none of it.
So Moon's next trick was to explain that he needed to act as an expert witness for the panel, essentially. He tried to explain that he was the only person who could understand that highly-technical musical jargon that my wife was going to start spewing. That didn't work either.
So, in desperation, Moon did what any reasonable person would do. He cheated.
We're not sure how he did it - whether he stacked the panel, threatened them with his lofty colonel's rank or what. But after extensive talking to the members of the panel, suddenly Nadine was selected to take over both services, and my wife was out of a job.
Oh, well. That's the way things work sometimes, right? Luck of the draw. This is all just sour grapes on my part, right?
Not so much. You see, when I went looking for Don after the panel interviewed everyone, I noticed that he had left the results on his desk. And you know how they voted?
A whole lifetime of music on my wife's part, and wide-ranging levels of experience at composing, directing, teaching, scoring, and playing instruments; she has literally been directing choirs for decades (two of them, but "decades"), and has sung in choirs for even longer. Nadine had a degree in music, and she taught in the elementary school system some years back. But Nadine scored higher than my wife in "Experience."
My wife had worked with both the Protestant and Catholic sides of the chapel. She'd organized a number of ecumenical services. (Ecumenical - a fancy word that just means "all the services working together" - you know, that whole mythical "spirit of Christian brotherhood" thing.) Nadine admitted that she might have met a Protestant at some point in her life, but she didn't socialize with any of them on a regular basis. But in the rating for "Plurality" ("How well can you work with other faiths?"), she scored top marks across the board, and Annette was marked down.
And here's the kicker. My wife, figuring that this was a job interview, wore a skirt, a nice blouse, some tasteful jewelry. Nadine went to see them in jeans and a tee shirt. And guess who scored higher in "Appearance"?
Are you starting to see a pattern here?
My wife was pretty upset for a day or so. She'd gone from having a job, to needing to go find work. Her talent had been ignored. Her music (which is a large part of her self-image) was ignored, for petty partisan reasons.
However, do you recall that old saying about "the best-laid plans?" See, Moon had subverted at least a few members of the panel, but guess who he hadn't turned to the Dark Side?
Nadine.
It seems that Nadine had no interest in conducting two choirs. She just wanted to work with one of them. So she subcontracted Annette to continue directing her own service. But, as the primary contractor, it was Nadine who had to go to Parish Council meetings, do paperwork, sign forms, and generally do all the administrative details that my wife hates.
So, as all this boils down, my wife is doing the same job, for the same amount of money, but with less stress. Moon has shown himself to be a vicious, backstabbing weasel. And when Nadine goes on vacation (as she does for several months out of the year), you know who's going to be directing "Col. Moon's choir"?
My wife. Now I've just got to make sure that he knows that. (Not that I'm petty or anything.)
Of course, you realize that none of this actually happened or anything. It's just a parable. It wasn't an example of God looking down on his people (not that I really hold a lot of truck with that anyway). Not anything remotely related to reality.
What's that newly-popular word? Oh, yeah.
Schadenfreude.
My wife is both the spiritual one in the family, and the musical one. For many years, she has been supplementing our income (sometimes very well) by directing church choirs. When I was still in the military, she often directed choirs at the base chapel. And, in fact, when I retired, she was already directing the Catholic choir on base, so she kept right on doing that.
Now, understand that she is not Catholic. However, she has often attended Episcopalian churches, which she likes to say is Catholic Lite: all the liturgy, but none of the Pope. (OK, technically, that last bit is mine. She does call it "Catholic Lite," but she's always careful not to say anything that could be taken as derogatory toward Catholicism, especially when she's working with Catholics. But I'm not as careful as she is...)
There are actually two Catholic services on base: the traditional service on Sunday morning, and a more "contemporary" service on Saturday evening. (If you can call anything "contemporary" that's based on almost 2000 years of tradition, anyway...)
Now, here's one place that military chapels differ from a regular church. A lot more military people go there. (Gee, I'll bet you could have figured that one out on your own, couldn't you?) And the Saturday service was directed by a colonel who we'll call "Col. Moon."
OK, in the interests of full disclosure here, let me explain that the choir directors are contractors, and by law, contractors to the military cannot be active-duty military. That's just how it is. So, technically, Col. Moon was not the choir director. His wife, a fairly drab woman named.... um... we'll just call her "Alice"... anyway, Alice was officially the director, but her husband was one of those pushy, annoying military types. He also, for no obvious reason, thought that he was musically talented.
In fact, let me just rant about Col. Moon for a while. In the course of 21 years in the Air Force, I worked with a number of officers, and he was definitely one of the worst. He was always confident in the absolute correctness of every thought that wandered quietly through that dark, empty place he called a brain. He was positive that he knew more about Catholicism than the priest, and he was also positive that he knew more about music than my wife, an operatically-trained spinto soprano with 41 years of training in every variety of music.
A quick aside about my wife: aside from her incredible voice, she can play piano and guitar, and she taught herself to play organ for a traditional church-sound in the services. She has played folk music, rock, jazz, classical music, gospel (she's pretty white, but she tries), opera (obviously), and in fact, two decades ago, she stage-managed for a jazz-bluegrass fusion band that is still touring (but without her, obviously). She even played backup for a kathakali troupe at one point.
So maybe she knows what she's talking about musically. What'd'ya think?
But none of that mattered to Col. Moon. Basically, he had two problems with my wife. The first was, obviously, her lack of papal attachment. And secondly, she is obviously much more musically talented than he is, and his tiny little ego couldn't take it.
Moon is not a popular man, incidentally. If he outranks you, he is dismissive with your opinions and vaguely abusive, so his subordinates don't like him. The computer people don't like him, because he can cause system-destroying errors in electronics merely by sitting in front of the keyboard. And the people who work in the chapel don't like him because he thinks that, by being a colonel, he is in charge of everything around him.
Just so you know, even though, as a colonel, Moon is relatively high-ranking, that's not how things work. An officer is only in charge of what he has been assigned as a job. But somehow, Moon has picked up the same opinion that a lot of scientists get - since he's an expert in one field, he must obviously be an expert in everything.
Now, here's where it gets weird. The priest was very happy with my wife's ability as a musician, and since Moon was leaving, Father Tim wanted her to take over the Saturday Mass, too. Nobody's sure why - maybe he just wanted to get good music in that service, too. It's hard to tell. But he set up the new contract so that one person would be in charge of both services.
To take this contract, you had to submit a résumé, and then a panel selected by the Parish Council questioned you. But we weren't too worried - my wife had years of experience, and a proven track record.
This wasn't news that Moon wanted to hear. His ego couldn't take it, apparently. Now, remember, he was leaving, and so he wouldn't be around to see her anymore. But the strain of using logic was too much for his little reptilian brain.
Moon wanted so badly to keep my wife out of "his" service that he started lobbying for another member of the congregation to take over, a woman who we'll call Nadine. And then, as a form of insurance, he brought in a ringer, a guy with no connection to the military, who'd never even attended the base chapel.
(Technically, that didn't work out too well for him. Take a note here - if you're going to bring in a ringer, the best choice would be a reliable ringer. Somebody, maybe, who will show up for his interview. It's just a thought.)
Anyway, back to our story. In his desperation to screw over my wife, Moon tried to get on the panel to appoint his successor. But that wasn't going to happen. The chapel manager, Don, saw from the beginning what Moon was trying to do, and was having none of it.
So Moon's next trick was to explain that he needed to act as an expert witness for the panel, essentially. He tried to explain that he was the only person who could understand that highly-technical musical jargon that my wife was going to start spewing. That didn't work either.
So, in desperation, Moon did what any reasonable person would do. He cheated.
We're not sure how he did it - whether he stacked the panel, threatened them with his lofty colonel's rank or what. But after extensive talking to the members of the panel, suddenly Nadine was selected to take over both services, and my wife was out of a job.
Oh, well. That's the way things work sometimes, right? Luck of the draw. This is all just sour grapes on my part, right?
Not so much. You see, when I went looking for Don after the panel interviewed everyone, I noticed that he had left the results on his desk. And you know how they voted?
A whole lifetime of music on my wife's part, and wide-ranging levels of experience at composing, directing, teaching, scoring, and playing instruments; she has literally been directing choirs for decades (two of them, but "decades"), and has sung in choirs for even longer. Nadine had a degree in music, and she taught in the elementary school system some years back. But Nadine scored higher than my wife in "Experience."
My wife had worked with both the Protestant and Catholic sides of the chapel. She'd organized a number of ecumenical services. (Ecumenical - a fancy word that just means "all the services working together" - you know, that whole mythical "spirit of Christian brotherhood" thing.) Nadine admitted that she might have met a Protestant at some point in her life, but she didn't socialize with any of them on a regular basis. But in the rating for "Plurality" ("How well can you work with other faiths?"), she scored top marks across the board, and Annette was marked down.
And here's the kicker. My wife, figuring that this was a job interview, wore a skirt, a nice blouse, some tasteful jewelry. Nadine went to see them in jeans and a tee shirt. And guess who scored higher in "Appearance"?
Are you starting to see a pattern here?
My wife was pretty upset for a day or so. She'd gone from having a job, to needing to go find work. Her talent had been ignored. Her music (which is a large part of her self-image) was ignored, for petty partisan reasons.
However, do you recall that old saying about "the best-laid plans?" See, Moon had subverted at least a few members of the panel, but guess who he hadn't turned to the Dark Side?
Nadine.
It seems that Nadine had no interest in conducting two choirs. She just wanted to work with one of them. So she subcontracted Annette to continue directing her own service. But, as the primary contractor, it was Nadine who had to go to Parish Council meetings, do paperwork, sign forms, and generally do all the administrative details that my wife hates.
So, as all this boils down, my wife is doing the same job, for the same amount of money, but with less stress. Moon has shown himself to be a vicious, backstabbing weasel. And when Nadine goes on vacation (as she does for several months out of the year), you know who's going to be directing "Col. Moon's choir"?
My wife. Now I've just got to make sure that he knows that. (Not that I'm petty or anything.)
Of course, you realize that none of this actually happened or anything. It's just a parable. It wasn't an example of God looking down on his people (not that I really hold a lot of truck with that anyway). Not anything remotely related to reality.
What's that newly-popular word? Oh, yeah.
Schadenfreude.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Xenu Loves Me, This I Know...
Scientology has been in the news a lot lately: everywhere from Isaac Hayes leaving South Park, to intimate discussions of Katie Holmes' pregnancy and Tom Cruise's public melt-down. But how much do you know about Scientology?
From the outside, Scientology looks like a combination of a religion and a social club ("Save your soul, and network with the stars, all at the same time!"). But once they get you into their clutches, they'll explain how all of your problems are due to some psychological blockages that they can cure (Of course, it's not really a "psychological" block, because they hate psychology... so it's a blockage... maybe it's a "Thetan blockage"... oh, just keep reading, maybe you'll understand soon... maybe not...). Then they put you through a combination of religious training and brainwashing, all in the name of "helping" you. And you get pulled into their cult gradually. Almost painlessly.
I'm sorry. Did that last paragraph sound a little negative? Well, let's look at their core beliefs. (Hold on, this is kind of a bumpy ride.)
You see, 75 million years ago, there was a huge space empire run by a guy named Xenu. He gathered together billions of dissidents from all over his empire, transported them to Earth, and piled them up around volcanoes. He then blew up the volcanoes with hydrogen bombs. But these dead people didn't disappear. Their souls stayed on Earth, and clustered around all of the survivors. This is one of those "blockages" that Scientologists want to help you with. It's called "Incident II," and they cure you by locating clusters of "body Thetans" and peeling them off of you.
OK, "peeling them off" isn't quite right. But if I said that they located them telepathically, would that sound any less crazy? But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Now, all of these "Thetans" (remember them? They're the souls of the people Xenu blew up) were gathered up by Xenu's forces using electronic ribbons, and taken to get processed (they call this the "R-6 Implant") in what looked like giant movie theaters, where they were brainwashed with "all kinds of misleading information." As a result of this processing, humanity gets religion, psychology, and doesn't believe science fiction (but, oddly enough, it doesn't keep us from watching movies).
Once they were processed, these Thetans also lost their sense of personal identity, which is why they started clustering around the surviving humans.
You can understand why something like that would be traumatic, right?
Now, L. Ron Hubbard wrote a lot of this stuff down in 1967 and 1968, while drunk and on drugs (as he said in a letter to his wife, "I'm drinking lots of rum and taking pinks and grays"). But he probably developed these ideas before 1960, when he published a book called Have You Lived Before This Life?, where he gave details of 41 case studies of Scientologists and their memories of reincarnation. (He didn't actually write the book; it was put together by Scientological "auditors," which is what they call the guys who run the "e-meters." I would explain e-meters, but pseudoscience just makes me tired.)
There are plenty of other details to the story, about how Earth (or "Teegeeack") was actually a prison planet, run by evil beings ("entheta"), but why go on? With Scientology, you get to learn the "actual history" of Earth and the universe by going through training. The whole Xenu story is revealed in OT III ("Operational Thetan, Level III").
Scientologists are a secretive bunch, and don't like letting the details out. So how, you might ask, do we know all this information about them? Well, some people go through the training, and the brainwashing doesn't take. Robert Kaufman, for example, wrote a book in 1972 called Inside Scientology: How I Joined Scientology and Became Super Human. And the Church of Scientology sued Steven Fishman, who claimed that he had been assigned to murder his psychologist (Dr. Uwe Geertz) and then commit suicide. And in the course of Church of Scientology International v. Fishman and Geertz, Fishman introduced, as evidence, the textbooks for OT-I through OT-VII. (There was apparently also a fake document, claiming to be OT-VIII, which talked about pedophilia being a good thing. But let's not deal with all that.)
That is how Scientology tries to protect itself. It sues. They've never argued that the OT-I through VII documents were lies. Instead, they have gone to court claiming copyright violation, and several times they’ve said that even rewording the documents would reveal trade secrets. And they've sued a bunch of Internet providers for reprinting the documents, too. Fortunately, since the entire story was introduced in court documents, it’s all available for people to read.
Do your own research. Check Wikipedia. (And then, because it's Wikipedia, verify everything.)
None of this stuff really affects most people's lives. But it does get in the news once in a while. Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are obvious examples. Plus, there's the South Park controversy. Matt Stone and Trey Parker, the creators of the show, had an episode where they revealed most of the Xenu story, with a footnote at the bottom of the screen reading "This is what Scientologists actually believe." They were going to rerun the episode on March 15, 2005. On March 13, Isaac Hayes released a statement that he was quitting because Stone and Parker were insensitive to "personal spiritual beliefs." (It’s possible that he never released this statement directly, since he apparently suffered a stroke in January and hadn’t been seen by his friends since then.)
Finally, Comedy Central pulled the episode and replaced it with the "Chef's Salty Chocolate Balls" episode. (If you've seen the show, I don't need to explain that last sentence. If you haven't... well, hell, I'm not even going to try to explain...) Why would they do pull the episode? Well, remember that Viacom owns Comedy Central. Viacom is also tied to Paramount, which was about to release Mission Impossible III. And there are some anonymous sources who've suggested that Tom Cruise threatened not to promote the movie.
I don't know the truth. I just lay out the facts. You figure it out. But remember that Stone and Parker released a statement to Daily Variety where they said:
I just know one thing. Scientology must be destroyed. But not because it's a cult: I don't care about that. All I know is, they're responsible for that steaming cinematic turd called Battlefield Earth.
That's enough reason for me.
From the outside, Scientology looks like a combination of a religion and a social club ("Save your soul, and network with the stars, all at the same time!"). But once they get you into their clutches, they'll explain how all of your problems are due to some psychological blockages that they can cure (Of course, it's not really a "psychological" block, because they hate psychology... so it's a blockage... maybe it's a "Thetan blockage"... oh, just keep reading, maybe you'll understand soon... maybe not...). Then they put you through a combination of religious training and brainwashing, all in the name of "helping" you. And you get pulled into their cult gradually. Almost painlessly.
I'm sorry. Did that last paragraph sound a little negative? Well, let's look at their core beliefs. (Hold on, this is kind of a bumpy ride.)
You see, 75 million years ago, there was a huge space empire run by a guy named Xenu. He gathered together billions of dissidents from all over his empire, transported them to Earth, and piled them up around volcanoes. He then blew up the volcanoes with hydrogen bombs. But these dead people didn't disappear. Their souls stayed on Earth, and clustered around all of the survivors. This is one of those "blockages" that Scientologists want to help you with. It's called "Incident II," and they cure you by locating clusters of "body Thetans" and peeling them off of you.
OK, "peeling them off" isn't quite right. But if I said that they located them telepathically, would that sound any less crazy? But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Now, all of these "Thetans" (remember them? They're the souls of the people Xenu blew up) were gathered up by Xenu's forces using electronic ribbons, and taken to get processed (they call this the "R-6 Implant") in what looked like giant movie theaters, where they were brainwashed with "all kinds of misleading information." As a result of this processing, humanity gets religion, psychology, and doesn't believe science fiction (but, oddly enough, it doesn't keep us from watching movies).
Once they were processed, these Thetans also lost their sense of personal identity, which is why they started clustering around the surviving humans.
You can understand why something like that would be traumatic, right?
Now, L. Ron Hubbard wrote a lot of this stuff down in 1967 and 1968, while drunk and on drugs (as he said in a letter to his wife, "I'm drinking lots of rum and taking pinks and grays"). But he probably developed these ideas before 1960, when he published a book called Have You Lived Before This Life?, where he gave details of 41 case studies of Scientologists and their memories of reincarnation. (He didn't actually write the book; it was put together by Scientological "auditors," which is what they call the guys who run the "e-meters." I would explain e-meters, but pseudoscience just makes me tired.)
There are plenty of other details to the story, about how Earth (or "Teegeeack") was actually a prison planet, run by evil beings ("entheta"), but why go on? With Scientology, you get to learn the "actual history" of Earth and the universe by going through training. The whole Xenu story is revealed in OT III ("Operational Thetan, Level III").
Scientologists are a secretive bunch, and don't like letting the details out. So how, you might ask, do we know all this information about them? Well, some people go through the training, and the brainwashing doesn't take. Robert Kaufman, for example, wrote a book in 1972 called Inside Scientology: How I Joined Scientology and Became Super Human. And the Church of Scientology sued Steven Fishman, who claimed that he had been assigned to murder his psychologist (Dr. Uwe Geertz) and then commit suicide. And in the course of Church of Scientology International v. Fishman and Geertz, Fishman introduced, as evidence, the textbooks for OT-I through OT-VII. (There was apparently also a fake document, claiming to be OT-VIII, which talked about pedophilia being a good thing. But let's not deal with all that.)
That is how Scientology tries to protect itself. It sues. They've never argued that the OT-I through VII documents were lies. Instead, they have gone to court claiming copyright violation, and several times they’ve said that even rewording the documents would reveal trade secrets. And they've sued a bunch of Internet providers for reprinting the documents, too. Fortunately, since the entire story was introduced in court documents, it’s all available for people to read.
Do your own research. Check Wikipedia. (And then, because it's Wikipedia, verify everything.)
None of this stuff really affects most people's lives. But it does get in the news once in a while. Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are obvious examples. Plus, there's the South Park controversy. Matt Stone and Trey Parker, the creators of the show, had an episode where they revealed most of the Xenu story, with a footnote at the bottom of the screen reading "This is what Scientologists actually believe." They were going to rerun the episode on March 15, 2005. On March 13, Isaac Hayes released a statement that he was quitting because Stone and Parker were insensitive to "personal spiritual beliefs." (It’s possible that he never released this statement directly, since he apparently suffered a stroke in January and hadn’t been seen by his friends since then.)
Finally, Comedy Central pulled the episode and replaced it with the "Chef's Salty Chocolate Balls" episode. (If you've seen the show, I don't need to explain that last sentence. If you haven't... well, hell, I'm not even going to try to explain...) Why would they do pull the episode? Well, remember that Viacom owns Comedy Central. Viacom is also tied to Paramount, which was about to release Mission Impossible III. And there are some anonymous sources who've suggested that Tom Cruise threatened not to promote the movie.
I don't know the truth. I just lay out the facts. You figure it out. But remember that Stone and Parker released a statement to Daily Variety where they said:
So, Scientology, you may have won THIS battle, but the million-year war for earth has just begun! Temporarily anozinizing our episode will NOT stop us from keeping Thetans forever trapped in your pitiful man-bodies. Curses and drat! You have obstructed us for now, but your feeble bid to save humanity will fail! Hail Xenu!!!It sounds a little odd that thousands of people have been taken in by this crappy science fiction script. But remember that billions of people have believed in an invisible man in the sky who, despite being omnipotent and omniscient, gets testy if you don't debase yourself to him every day. (See? It hurts when it's your religion that's getting mocked, doesn't it?)
I just know one thing. Scientology must be destroyed. But not because it's a cult: I don't care about that. All I know is, they're responsible for that steaming cinematic turd called Battlefield Earth.
That's enough reason for me.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Easter - Jesus gets hammered and learns about rock and roll
Every religion sells something. But Christianity seems to lead the pack in salesmanship. Christianity is the dominant religion in the United States: is it an aspect of the "Yankee Trader" mentality? Or is the less-abrasive "Christian Left" trying to become its own subculture?
(Didn't Jesus once throw the money-changers out of the temple? I have some vague memory about that... And by the way, did you notice that several churches are holding an Easter sunrise service. See? SON-rise? That's because God loves puns.)
Despite the various efforts of some of the less-ethical media to sell us on the idea of "the Hijacking of Easter," Christianity seems to be alive and well in America today, and available on every street corner, and at every price range.
The selling of a religion can take many forms, from the somewhat classier jewelry merchants, to the potentially-blasphemous Crucifix Dildo. Depending on your tastes, you can find a religious diet book (What Would Jesus Eat?), or an entire line of Biblically-based nutritional supplements. There have always been religious books, but the Word of God can now be found in every form of media, even video games. (There's even a long-running series of super-hero videos starring Willie Ames, of "Eight is Enough" fame.) And particularly since Mel Gibson made his movie, although it's still difficult to find a piece of the True Cross, you can, once again, find "Passion Nails" and other simulated relics (not to mention an endless supply of end-times literature). Some of the more egregious examples have been collected here.
And it doesn't stop with simple religion. Easter in America has, for many years, been a celebration of commerce. Although military-themed Easter baskets didn't go over real well, the more traditional Easter baskets filled with fluffy bunnies and ducks are widely available. Ignoring the possible correlation between pagan and Easter symbology, you can find children's bibles right next to decorated eggs.
Despite the prevalence of chocolate rabbits and marshmallow ducks, you can easily find other types of Christian-themed candy (although if you're not careful, you might find chocolate-covered mushrooms).
However, there is another style of Christian marketing, one that tries to emulate the mainstream culture. It's a lifestyle more comfortable with t-shirts than shirt-and-tie, one that wants to relax and listen to music.
Is this the face of the new evangelist, is it watered-down Christianity, or is it just another face of Mammon?
(Didn't Jesus once throw the money-changers out of the temple? I have some vague memory about that... And by the way, did you notice that several churches are holding an Easter sunrise service. See? SON-rise? That's because God loves puns.)
Despite the various efforts of some of the less-ethical media to sell us on the idea of "the Hijacking of Easter," Christianity seems to be alive and well in America today, and available on every street corner, and at every price range.
The selling of a religion can take many forms, from the somewhat classier jewelry merchants, to the potentially-blasphemous Crucifix Dildo. Depending on your tastes, you can find a religious diet book (What Would Jesus Eat?), or an entire line of Biblically-based nutritional supplements. There have always been religious books, but the Word of God can now be found in every form of media, even video games. (There's even a long-running series of super-hero videos starring Willie Ames, of "Eight is Enough" fame.) And particularly since Mel Gibson made his movie, although it's still difficult to find a piece of the True Cross, you can, once again, find "Passion Nails" and other simulated relics (not to mention an endless supply of end-times literature). Some of the more egregious examples have been collected here.
And it doesn't stop with simple religion. Easter in America has, for many years, been a celebration of commerce. Although military-themed Easter baskets didn't go over real well, the more traditional Easter baskets filled with fluffy bunnies and ducks are widely available. Ignoring the possible correlation between pagan and Easter symbology, you can find children's bibles right next to decorated eggs.
Despite the prevalence of chocolate rabbits and marshmallow ducks, you can easily find other types of Christian-themed candy (although if you're not careful, you might find chocolate-covered mushrooms).
However, there is another style of Christian marketing, one that tries to emulate the mainstream culture. It's a lifestyle more comfortable with t-shirts than shirt-and-tie, one that wants to relax and listen to music.
Is this the face of the new evangelist, is it watered-down Christianity, or is it just another face of Mammon?
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Benzene: The Choice Of A New Generation!
I had a paranoid moment last week.
It wasn't that anything actually happened to me. It was simply that a couple of facts came to my attention at the same time. Now, combine that with the flu that I'm fighting off, and you end up with the perfect brain setting for paranoia.
You see, the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) has acknowledged that benzene, a cancer-causing chemical, has been found in soft drinks at levels that far exceed the amount considered safe for drinking water.
But the federal government insists there is no cause for concern. While they accept that benzene is a dangerous chemical, they insist that the new findings are not placing anyone at risk.
Strangely enough, by admitting that the levels of benzene are higher than previously estimated, the FDA is contradicting a statement they issued last week, when officials said they had found only insignificant levels of benzene in soda. "We haven't changed our view that right now, there is not a safety concern, not a public health concern," said FDA official Laura Tarantino, "but what we need to do is understand how benzene forms and to ensure the industry is doing everything to avoid those circumstances."
A different study found the amount of benzene in 19 of 24 samples of diet sodas was, on average, four times the levels accepted in tap water. Tarantino says those chemists are overestimating the amount of benzene, and the FDA is not yet ready to release the results of their own study of benzene in soft drinks.
The Environmental Working Group says that the FDA is supressing this information. "If they're so confident the situation is not a safety risk, they need to release the data to prove it," said Richard Wiles, the group's senior vice president. "The only data available to the public contradict their claim."
Coincidentally, when the tobacco corporations were forced to reveal a list of the dangerous chemicals in their products, they also failed to mention benzene. In this case, though, it was completely understandable. Benzene does not need to be added to tobacco, because it forms naturally when you burn it.
Benzene is, of course, not the only risk associated with soft drinks. Despite studies showing that habitual coffee use will not increase rates of high blood pressure in women, apparently drinking a cola will. And aside from obesity, soft drinks are suggested as the cause of other health problems.
Of course, despite numerous studies showing the links between soft drinks and poor health, there will always be a dissenting opinion. And, as usual, that opinion can be found on Fox News.
So, if everybody except Fox News thinks that something is bad, I'll admit that I usually figure that Fox News is wrong. (Let's just say "they're wrong." We don't have to argue about why they're wrong, do we? After all, I can't think of any way that it would benefit a major news corporation if they always changed stories to reflect what the White House wants to hear. Can you?)
In March of 2005, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) set limits on the amounts of mercury that could be emitted by power plants. At the time, the EPA said that they couldn't make the limits more "aggressive" because the cost to the industry was already more than the public health benefit.
Which would have been true, if they weren't ignoring a study by Harvard University that said that slightly greater limits would have health benefits worth more than five billion dollars per year, but would cost the industry three quarters of a billion dollars.
This was a study that the EPA had paid for, that was co-authored by an EPA scientist, and that was peer-reviewed by two other EPA scientists. In common language, the EPA wasted our tax dollars to ignore a study that might have made Americans healthier.
At first, the EPA claimed that the study results didn't get to them in time for their deadline. When interviews and documents proved that to be a lie, they switched their stories, and claimed that the Harvard study was using "flawed" data about the heart problems caused by mercury contamination. They did manage to stick by their original claim that the health benefits would only be around fifty million dollars, though.
The government's action is probably completely unrelated to the fact that the EPA dismantled a previous working group on mercury, just as they were about to require much more stringent regulations from all coal-burning power plants in America.
With their new ruling, the EPA completely ignored previous studies that showed that mercury contamination in seafood caused irreversible damage not only to the hearts of adults, but to brain functions in infants.
Let's repeat the most important word there: "irreversible." As in "can't be fixed." The EPA had accepted those studies at the time, and as a result, had already suggested that pregnant women limit their intake of seafood to no more than twelve ounces per week.
Remember the Office of National Drug Control Policy (the ONDCP), the guys who make those stupid anti-drug ads? Here's what they have to say about inhalants:
That's right. Brain damage.
So, here we have the US government allowing mercury, which is known to cause brain damage, into the environment. And then it allows benzene, which could cause brain damage if it was consumed over a long period of time, into our sodas.
And I have two teen-aged sons. I know exactly how much soda they'll drink if you leave them alone. (OK, one of them is twenty. If you squint your eyes just right, he's not technically a "teenager" any more. He still sucks down soda like a vacuum pump.)
So that's why I had my paranoid moment. Can you imagine why a government that isn't very good about hiding their lies might appreciate a brain-damaged electorate?
But with a little further thought, I realized that I was giving too much credit to the planning abilities of that same government. Why set up an elaborate, long-term plan when simple, short-term stupidity is more likely to be the cause?
They didn't let mercury into the fish and into the air around the coal-burning plants because they wanted people to get mercury poisoning. They did it because it would cost less if the corporations didn't have to pay to get the mercury out. For that matter, they didn't let benzene into the sodas because they wanted people sucking down quarts of poison every day. It would just cost the soda companies money to take it out. The problem isn't that the government is trying to harm the American people. It's that the government doesn't care.
And what about the corporations who are making all this money off of the people? Shouldn't they care about the fact that if the people are all dead, there won't be anybody left to buy the products?
You know, there's a very strong movement out there to prevent sex education, limit birth control, and outlaw abortion. I wonder why that would be?
Aw, crap. Now I'm having another one of those paranoid moments...
-----
Update: May 22, 2006
And will you look at what happens almost two months after I posted this? It seems that the FDA finally released their results. Out of only 100 drinks that they tested (not just sodas -- "drinks" -- anybody want to try and figure out how many thousands of drinks are on the market today?), they found five with more than the 5 parts per billion limit that they set. One of them (Safeway Select Diet Orange) had 79 parts per billion.
The article then goes on to explain the various health risks associated with benzene:
By the way, despite the title of this entry, Coca Cola doesn't have either sodium benzoate or potassium benzoate. However, most of the other varieties (Diet Coke, Cherry Vanilla Honey Almond Licorice Coke, and all of 'em like that) do. Read your labels.
It wasn't that anything actually happened to me. It was simply that a couple of facts came to my attention at the same time. Now, combine that with the flu that I'm fighting off, and you end up with the perfect brain setting for paranoia.
You see, the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) has acknowledged that benzene, a cancer-causing chemical, has been found in soft drinks at levels that far exceed the amount considered safe for drinking water.
But the federal government insists there is no cause for concern. While they accept that benzene is a dangerous chemical, they insist that the new findings are not placing anyone at risk.
Strangely enough, by admitting that the levels of benzene are higher than previously estimated, the FDA is contradicting a statement they issued last week, when officials said they had found only insignificant levels of benzene in soda. "We haven't changed our view that right now, there is not a safety concern, not a public health concern," said FDA official Laura Tarantino, "but what we need to do is understand how benzene forms and to ensure the industry is doing everything to avoid those circumstances."
A different study found the amount of benzene in 19 of 24 samples of diet sodas was, on average, four times the levels accepted in tap water. Tarantino says those chemists are overestimating the amount of benzene, and the FDA is not yet ready to release the results of their own study of benzene in soft drinks.
The Environmental Working Group says that the FDA is supressing this information. "If they're so confident the situation is not a safety risk, they need to release the data to prove it," said Richard Wiles, the group's senior vice president. "The only data available to the public contradict their claim."
Coincidentally, when the tobacco corporations were forced to reveal a list of the dangerous chemicals in their products, they also failed to mention benzene. In this case, though, it was completely understandable. Benzene does not need to be added to tobacco, because it forms naturally when you burn it.
Benzene is, of course, not the only risk associated with soft drinks. Despite studies showing that habitual coffee use will not increase rates of high blood pressure in women, apparently drinking a cola will. And aside from obesity, soft drinks are suggested as the cause of other health problems.
Of course, despite numerous studies showing the links between soft drinks and poor health, there will always be a dissenting opinion. And, as usual, that opinion can be found on Fox News.
So, if everybody except Fox News thinks that something is bad, I'll admit that I usually figure that Fox News is wrong. (Let's just say "they're wrong." We don't have to argue about why they're wrong, do we? After all, I can't think of any way that it would benefit a major news corporation if they always changed stories to reflect what the White House wants to hear. Can you?)
In March of 2005, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) set limits on the amounts of mercury that could be emitted by power plants. At the time, the EPA said that they couldn't make the limits more "aggressive" because the cost to the industry was already more than the public health benefit.
Which would have been true, if they weren't ignoring a study by Harvard University that said that slightly greater limits would have health benefits worth more than five billion dollars per year, but would cost the industry three quarters of a billion dollars.
This was a study that the EPA had paid for, that was co-authored by an EPA scientist, and that was peer-reviewed by two other EPA scientists. In common language, the EPA wasted our tax dollars to ignore a study that might have made Americans healthier.
At first, the EPA claimed that the study results didn't get to them in time for their deadline. When interviews and documents proved that to be a lie, they switched their stories, and claimed that the Harvard study was using "flawed" data about the heart problems caused by mercury contamination. They did manage to stick by their original claim that the health benefits would only be around fifty million dollars, though.
The government's action is probably completely unrelated to the fact that the EPA dismantled a previous working group on mercury, just as they were about to require much more stringent regulations from all coal-burning power plants in America.
With their new ruling, the EPA completely ignored previous studies that showed that mercury contamination in seafood caused irreversible damage not only to the hearts of adults, but to brain functions in infants.
Let's repeat the most important word there: "irreversible." As in "can't be fixed." The EPA had accepted those studies at the time, and as a result, had already suggested that pregnant women limit their intake of seafood to no more than twelve ounces per week.
Remember the Office of National Drug Control Policy (the ONDCP), the guys who make those stupid anti-drug ads? Here's what they have to say about inhalants:
Upon inhalation, the body becomes starved of oxygen, forcing the heart to beat more rapidly in an attempt to increase blood flow to the brain. The user initially experiences stimulation, a loss of inhibition, and a distorted perception of reality and spatial relations. After a few minutes, the senses become depressed and a sense of lethargy arises as the body attempts to stabilize blood flow to the brain, usually referred to as a "head rush."Did you follow that? If the brain isn't getting enough oxygen, the body tries to compensate, and the owner of that body (and by extention, that brain) gets high.
Damage is also caused to the cerebral cortex and the cerebellum, resulting in personality changes, memory impairment, hallucinations, loss of coordination, and slurred speech.Part of that damage is caused by the chemicals that are being inhaled, of course. But part of the damage is caused by oxygen starvation to the brain. Now, let's see if you can remember that high school biology class. What carries oxygen to the brain? That's right: red blood cells. And remember that benzene that the government is allowing into our sodas? Do you know what it does to the body, aside from causing cancer?
The major effect of benzene from long-term exposure is on the blood. (Long-term exposure means exposure of a year or more.) Benzene causes harmful effects on the bone marrow and can cause a decrease in red blood cells, leading to anemia.So, what do you think would happen over a long period of time if the brain couldn't get enough oxygen because the blood couldn't carry it?
That's right. Brain damage.
So, here we have the US government allowing mercury, which is known to cause brain damage, into the environment. And then it allows benzene, which could cause brain damage if it was consumed over a long period of time, into our sodas.
And I have two teen-aged sons. I know exactly how much soda they'll drink if you leave them alone. (OK, one of them is twenty. If you squint your eyes just right, he's not technically a "teenager" any more. He still sucks down soda like a vacuum pump.)
So that's why I had my paranoid moment. Can you imagine why a government that isn't very good about hiding their lies might appreciate a brain-damaged electorate?
But with a little further thought, I realized that I was giving too much credit to the planning abilities of that same government. Why set up an elaborate, long-term plan when simple, short-term stupidity is more likely to be the cause?
They didn't let mercury into the fish and into the air around the coal-burning plants because they wanted people to get mercury poisoning. They did it because it would cost less if the corporations didn't have to pay to get the mercury out. For that matter, they didn't let benzene into the sodas because they wanted people sucking down quarts of poison every day. It would just cost the soda companies money to take it out. The problem isn't that the government is trying to harm the American people. It's that the government doesn't care.
And what about the corporations who are making all this money off of the people? Shouldn't they care about the fact that if the people are all dead, there won't be anybody left to buy the products?
You know, there's a very strong movement out there to prevent sex education, limit birth control, and outlaw abortion. I wonder why that would be?
Aw, crap. Now I'm having another one of those paranoid moments...
-----
Update: May 22, 2006
And will you look at what happens almost two months after I posted this? It seems that the FDA finally released their results. Out of only 100 drinks that they tested (not just sodas -- "drinks" -- anybody want to try and figure out how many thousands of drinks are on the market today?), they found five with more than the 5 parts per billion limit that they set. One of them (Safeway Select Diet Orange) had 79 parts per billion.
The article then goes on to explain the various health risks associated with benzene:
As well as being linked to many health disorders, respiratory and skin problems, blood disorders, high benzene exposure is linked to the following cancers:So, hey, enjoy that soda.
-- ALL (acute lymphocytic leukemia)
-- AML (acute myelogenous leukaemia)
-- CLL (chronic lymphocytic leukemia)
-- CML chronic myelogenous leukemia)
-- HCL (hairy cell leukemia)
-- Hodgkin's disease
-- MDS (myelodysplastic syndrome)
-- Multiple myeloma
-- NHL (non-Hodgkin's lymphoma)
By the way, despite the title of this entry, Coca Cola doesn't have either sodium benzoate or potassium benzoate. However, most of the other varieties (Diet Coke, Cherry Vanilla Honey Almond Licorice Coke, and all of 'em like that) do. Read your labels.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
How to end up a zookeeper without even trying
Here's how you, too, can find yourself living in a zoo.
I spent 21 years as a military cop, and one of the many lessons I've learned is that, according to criminals, the best burglar alarm is not electronic, and is not some kind of mechanical, Bugs Bunny-style Acme Safe with optional explosive trapdoor. It's a dog. So for many years now, we've had a medium-sized dog running around the house.
Not a useless little yappy dog, but a good German Shepherd-sized, fang-laden, friendly (but slightly territorial), four-legged burglar alarm.
My wife, however, is a cat person. She's happiest if she has a small bundle of fur purring in her lap. So, for many years, we've had two cats to keep each other company. Bucky (short for Buckethead) has grown into a fairly relaxed, if stubborn, old matriarch, and Phantom (because he has a mask like the Phantom of the Opera).
My youngest son has a bearded dragon, a 25" lizard, which stays in his room and hardly infringes on my life, so, other than to mention that we go through about a dozen crickets every two days, we won't really deal with him much.
Now, our primary dog, Tasha is a Labrador /German Shepherd mix: a lab/shep, in the simplified shorthand that we like to use. She is an even-tempered, pure-black German Shepherd in appearance, with a Labrador undercoat and webbed feed, so she swims like a fish and shakes off water like a seal.
So, of course, we brought her to Albuquerque. Where else would you take a water-loving dog but the middle of the high desert?
She has one minor personality quirk. When we lived in Cheyenne, Wyoming, we didn't have a fenced backyard, so we put her on a run. And there she was, tied up, when a pack of dogs came along and attacked her. So she's never really gotten along with other dogs. Cats, yes. But dogs, no.
As she got older, we knew we were eventually going to have to replace her, and we thought it might be nice if she had somebody to play with. So last year, we got a puppy. Like all of our dogs, he came from the pound. We're reasonably certain that he's a Chesapeake Bay Retriever - a light chocolate-brown shorthair.
And sure enough, her maternal instinct overcame her dislike of other canines, and we were allowed to bring Boris into our house.
Unfortunately, as Boris got older, we discovered a minor problem - he's an idiot. Dumb as a bag of hammers. This might partly be due to a badly-healed skull-fracture that the vet discovered, which also led to his nose curving ever-so-slightly to the right. It might be due to the fact that Chesapeake Bay Retrievers are known to be a little vague. Or it might just be that he doesn't even have two brain cells to rub together.
Whatever the reason, we have Natasha and Boris. Tasha is a dignified, intelligent, beautiful beast, and Boris is both moose and squirrel rolled into one dust-covered package. He's lazy - he doesn't just sit, he'll lie down, or he'll lean against a wall. Some stray atom of thought will roll through the dark recesses of his skull, and he'll go bounding down the hall, running into walls, and either skid to a stop in the living room or ram, full-speed, into some piece of furniture. And then he'll stand there, looking around confused, because whatever phantom had momentarily interested him has apparently vanished into thin air.
Boris is also extremely friendly. He loves other dogs, people, cats, birds - anything that moves is his friend. We have hopes that a burglar breaks into our house while Tasha is still around, because left to his own devices, Boris will lick their faces and show them where we store the good china and the big TV.
So, there we were, with two dogs, two cats, and a lizard. Enough animals for one family, right?
Oh, no. My daughter Nicole broke up with her boyfriend, and the only thing that could console her was a kitten. So she ended up getting Pandora, a little black kitten with the strangest needy spells - she'll suddenly realize that she's alone in the world, and nothing can console her except to be held and actively petted. Which can be annoying at 2 a.m., by the way.
And I put my foot down. "We're done. No more animals." Is that unreasonable of me? We don't have a big enough house for the five humans we have living in it, and we're suddenly outnumbered by the animals! How the hell does this happen?
It just does.
But never make magnanimous statements like "Nope. No. More. Animals." Because Fate loves to hear a challenge like that.
My older son brought home another kitten one day, a younger version of Bucky. My first words, upon seeing this cat, were "Nope. We aren't taking it." And being a relatively reasonable human being, Luke (that's my older son) agreed that, indeed, we had no need of another cat. We were just watching it for his girlfriend, who'd be taking it off our hands any day now.
Well, as days rolled into weeks, we discovered why his wannabe-Goth girlfriend wasn't taking the kitten. She already had two cats at home, and she needed to get rid of them first. Or, more accurately, somebody else needed to get rid of these cats for her, because her family had apparently turned in their quota of cats to the pound already that year.
Luke's now-former girlfriend liked kittens, but once they weren't kittens any more, it seems that she didn't want them any more. So she wanted Luke and one of his other friends to each take one down to the pound, so that she could clear her house of cats, and her parents would let her have a new one.
That was a little too much for me. Nobody's going to kill two adult cats just to get a replacement, who'd probably suffer the same fate as she also grew into an adult (as kittens tend to do, after all). So, against my better judgment, we ended up with a fourth cat.
Did I mention that Luke's now-ex-girlfriend wanted to be a Goth? She did. And she'd named the cat Abandon. Stupidest damned name in the world: a verb, present tense, with negative qualities (like, say, Sting). So we truncated it, to Abby (or, occasionally, when she's particularly dim, Abby-normal, in honor of Mel Brooks).
That's how you end up living in a zoo. It's not your fault, it just happens.
And somehow, I have the feeling that, even if we can ever convince the kids to move out, the animals are going to stay.
Because that seems to be how my life works.
I spent 21 years as a military cop, and one of the many lessons I've learned is that, according to criminals, the best burglar alarm is not electronic, and is not some kind of mechanical, Bugs Bunny-style Acme Safe with optional explosive trapdoor. It's a dog. So for many years now, we've had a medium-sized dog running around the house.
Not a useless little yappy dog, but a good German Shepherd-sized, fang-laden, friendly (but slightly territorial), four-legged burglar alarm.
My wife, however, is a cat person. She's happiest if she has a small bundle of fur purring in her lap. So, for many years, we've had two cats to keep each other company. Bucky (short for Buckethead) has grown into a fairly relaxed, if stubborn, old matriarch, and Phantom (because he has a mask like the Phantom of the Opera).
My youngest son has a bearded dragon, a 25" lizard, which stays in his room and hardly infringes on my life, so, other than to mention that we go through about a dozen crickets every two days, we won't really deal with him much.
Now, our primary dog, Tasha is a Labrador /German Shepherd mix: a lab/shep, in the simplified shorthand that we like to use. She is an even-tempered, pure-black German Shepherd in appearance, with a Labrador undercoat and webbed feed, so she swims like a fish and shakes off water like a seal.
So, of course, we brought her to Albuquerque. Where else would you take a water-loving dog but the middle of the high desert?
She has one minor personality quirk. When we lived in Cheyenne, Wyoming, we didn't have a fenced backyard, so we put her on a run. And there she was, tied up, when a pack of dogs came along and attacked her. So she's never really gotten along with other dogs. Cats, yes. But dogs, no.
As she got older, we knew we were eventually going to have to replace her, and we thought it might be nice if she had somebody to play with. So last year, we got a puppy. Like all of our dogs, he came from the pound. We're reasonably certain that he's a Chesapeake Bay Retriever - a light chocolate-brown shorthair.
And sure enough, her maternal instinct overcame her dislike of other canines, and we were allowed to bring Boris into our house.
Unfortunately, as Boris got older, we discovered a minor problem - he's an idiot. Dumb as a bag of hammers. This might partly be due to a badly-healed skull-fracture that the vet discovered, which also led to his nose curving ever-so-slightly to the right. It might be due to the fact that Chesapeake Bay Retrievers are known to be a little vague. Or it might just be that he doesn't even have two brain cells to rub together.
Whatever the reason, we have Natasha and Boris. Tasha is a dignified, intelligent, beautiful beast, and Boris is both moose and squirrel rolled into one dust-covered package. He's lazy - he doesn't just sit, he'll lie down, or he'll lean against a wall. Some stray atom of thought will roll through the dark recesses of his skull, and he'll go bounding down the hall, running into walls, and either skid to a stop in the living room or ram, full-speed, into some piece of furniture. And then he'll stand there, looking around confused, because whatever phantom had momentarily interested him has apparently vanished into thin air.
Boris is also extremely friendly. He loves other dogs, people, cats, birds - anything that moves is his friend. We have hopes that a burglar breaks into our house while Tasha is still around, because left to his own devices, Boris will lick their faces and show them where we store the good china and the big TV.
So, there we were, with two dogs, two cats, and a lizard. Enough animals for one family, right?
Oh, no. My daughter Nicole broke up with her boyfriend, and the only thing that could console her was a kitten. So she ended up getting Pandora, a little black kitten with the strangest needy spells - she'll suddenly realize that she's alone in the world, and nothing can console her except to be held and actively petted. Which can be annoying at 2 a.m., by the way.
And I put my foot down. "We're done. No more animals." Is that unreasonable of me? We don't have a big enough house for the five humans we have living in it, and we're suddenly outnumbered by the animals! How the hell does this happen?
It just does.
But never make magnanimous statements like "Nope. No. More. Animals." Because Fate loves to hear a challenge like that.
My older son brought home another kitten one day, a younger version of Bucky. My first words, upon seeing this cat, were "Nope. We aren't taking it." And being a relatively reasonable human being, Luke (that's my older son) agreed that, indeed, we had no need of another cat. We were just watching it for his girlfriend, who'd be taking it off our hands any day now.
Well, as days rolled into weeks, we discovered why his wannabe-Goth girlfriend wasn't taking the kitten. She already had two cats at home, and she needed to get rid of them first. Or, more accurately, somebody else needed to get rid of these cats for her, because her family had apparently turned in their quota of cats to the pound already that year.
Luke's now-former girlfriend liked kittens, but once they weren't kittens any more, it seems that she didn't want them any more. So she wanted Luke and one of his other friends to each take one down to the pound, so that she could clear her house of cats, and her parents would let her have a new one.
That was a little too much for me. Nobody's going to kill two adult cats just to get a replacement, who'd probably suffer the same fate as she also grew into an adult (as kittens tend to do, after all). So, against my better judgment, we ended up with a fourth cat.
Did I mention that Luke's now-ex-girlfriend wanted to be a Goth? She did. And she'd named the cat Abandon. Stupidest damned name in the world: a verb, present tense, with negative qualities (like, say, Sting). So we truncated it, to Abby (or, occasionally, when she's particularly dim, Abby-normal, in honor of Mel Brooks).
That's how you end up living in a zoo. It's not your fault, it just happens.
And somehow, I have the feeling that, even if we can ever convince the kids to move out, the animals are going to stay.
Because that seems to be how my life works.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
The Brief Rise and Quick Fall of Ben Domenech
The Washington Post's online arm, blog.washingtonpost.com last week decided to expand their readership and hire a rabid conservative. Their choice for this noble purpose was a young, home-schooled former speechwriter named Ben Domenech. Three days after his first post, he resigned due to allegations of plagiarism.
A brief synopsis of the furor in the blogosphere was published on Editor and Publisher. And the entire run of Benny's column can, at the moment, be found here. Three days, six posts (seven, if you count his self-aggrandizing bio), and a resignation notice from the editor.
During those three days, left-leaning bloggers everywhere went digging through his earlier writing, and turned up ample evidence that Benny wasn't always as original as he could have been, and often had a difficult time with that elusive concept, "the truth." Atrios discovered that Spinsanity had mentioned him - by name - for lying, back in 2002. His fascinating point of view was trotted out into the open, as was his taste in movies. And Talking Points Memo actually managed to link him to Jack Abramoff. By the time they were done, even the equally-rabid Michelle Malkin couldn't back away from this kid fast enough.
Under his RedState.com pen name, "Augustine," Benny wrote a relatively pissy retrospective of his brief mainstream-blogging career, wherein he explained "I am a conservative, not a partisan," among other fascinating insights into his attitude toward the truth. One of the excuses he offered for, in this case, plagiarizing P.J. O'Rourke, is as follows:
Let's compare. Here's Ben Domenech, from his Flat Hat article:
The Flat Hat, the student newspaper of William and Mary College, where Ben got his extra-domiciliary education, was the source of many of the plagiarized articles in question. The Flat Hat editors refuted Benny's claim that they were either complicit with or responsible for Domenech's plagiarism.
So many examples of Domenech's repeated acts of literary theft were turned up that only one question is left. In the bio on his deceased WaPo blog, we find the following statement:
A brief synopsis of the furor in the blogosphere was published on Editor and Publisher. And the entire run of Benny's column can, at the moment, be found here. Three days, six posts (seven, if you count his self-aggrandizing bio), and a resignation notice from the editor.
During those three days, left-leaning bloggers everywhere went digging through his earlier writing, and turned up ample evidence that Benny wasn't always as original as he could have been, and often had a difficult time with that elusive concept, "the truth." Atrios discovered that Spinsanity had mentioned him - by name - for lying, back in 2002. His fascinating point of view was trotted out into the open, as was his taste in movies. And Talking Points Memo actually managed to link him to Jack Abramoff. By the time they were done, even the equally-rabid Michelle Malkin couldn't back away from this kid fast enough.
Under his RedState.com pen name, "Augustine," Benny wrote a relatively pissy retrospective of his brief mainstream-blogging career, wherein he explained "I am a conservative, not a partisan," among other fascinating insights into his attitude toward the truth. One of the excuses he offered for, in this case, plagiarizing P.J. O'Rourke, is as follows:
But the truth is that I had met P.J. at a Republican event and asked his permission to do a college-specific version of his classic piece on partying. He granted permission, the piece was cleared with my editors at the paper, and it ran as inspired by O'Rourke's original.Strangely enough, if you do a little research and dig up the article in question, nowhere does it mention P.J. O'Rourke, nor does it reference his book "Modern Manners," the source of Benny's column.
Let's compare. Here's Ben Domenech, from his Flat Hat article:
Real parties vary tremendously in type and style, but I've noticed they all share certain things in common.And here's P.J. O'Rourke, from Modern Manners:
- Real parties don't start until after midnight. - No friendships or romantic relationships should survive a real party fully intact.
- Neither should much furniture.
- Someone should be wearing undergarments on his head by 2 a.m.
- By 3 a.m., someone should have called the police.
- Someone else should have called George Bush long distance to invite him over.
Real parties vary tremendously in type and style, but all share certain things in common.I see the difference: Benny added "I've noticed" in the first line, and used "undergarments" instead of "underpants." It's a completely different bit. (That's called the "Vanilla Ice defense" - claiming that a single changed note at the end of a line made "Ice Ice Baby" entirely different from David Bowie and Queen's song "Under Pressure.")
- Real parties don't start until after midnight.
- No friendships or romantic relationships should survive a real party fully intact.
- Neither should much furniture.
- Someone should have underpants on his head by 2 a.m.
- By 3 a.m., someone should have called the police.
- Someone else should have called George Bush long distance to invite him over.
The Flat Hat, the student newspaper of William and Mary College, where Ben got his extra-domiciliary education, was the source of many of the plagiarized articles in question. The Flat Hat editors refuted Benny's claim that they were either complicit with or responsible for Domenech's plagiarism.
So many examples of Domenech's repeated acts of literary theft were turned up that only one question is left. In the bio on his deceased WaPo blog, we find the following statement:
Ben is now a book editor for Regnery Publishing, where he has edited multiple bestsellers and books by Michelle Malkin, Ramesh Ponnuru, and Hugh Hewitt.So you have to ask yourself: what are Regnery's standards, and how do they feel about plagiarism?
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Len Hart on H.L. Mencken
I seem to be posting other people's work as often as my own, of late. But we have here, in the midst of a longer pro-Mencken piece by Len Hart, in his blog The Existentialist Cowboy, a literate description of the problem with American discourse these days.
Dr. John Lienhard, whose Engines of Our Ingenuity is a nationally syndicated radio program, called Mencken a brilliant iconoclast "...who knew language and who wielded it like a surgical laser." To be honest, I wish I had that gift. I would turn it upon what appears to be a deliberate attempt to water down the language, rob it of its power, and reframe debates to right wing advantage.
Terms like "pro-life" and "death tax" are conservative inventions designed to tilt the debate. Progressives lose by merely using those terms. Doing so legitimizes them; liberals lose. Pro-life is deliberately intended to disguise conservative hypocrisy with respect to partial-birth abortions —itself a misnomer designed to reframe the debate. [See: About "partial birth abortion" (a total misnomer)]. The term pro-life tends also to restrict the debate; those opposed to conservatives must, therefore, be opposed to life. It is easier to get away with non-sequitur logic if the very terminology seems to compel it. The modern right wing uses language like Edward I used the archer's fussilade into melees in which his own soldiers were embattled. He was willing to sustain the loss of life for the ultimate victory on the field.
In fairness, anyone claiming to be "pro-life" must also be anti-aggressive war, especially when that war causes the violent deaths of thousands of civilians —many just kids and infants. But perhaps for the pro-life crowd, life is only sacred when it's still inside the womb, but fair game once birthed.
In his day, Mencken towered above his peers. But because Mencken would not countenance or buy into the sloppy use of language today, he would be hard pressed to get published in the corporate media which would subject it to focus groups, tedious research, and the gospel of PC. It is our loss.
Sadly, Mencken seems all but forgotten among the general populace, and, among those who know his name, he is often thought to be liberal. Mencken was, in fact, a libertarian and an individualist.
Mencken's audience was not one of poltroonish ignoramuses; rather, he wrote for the intelligent few. Clearly, his intention was to make a difference by making a point among those who could make a difference with the mere public expression of an informed decision. Surely, he hopes to help shape that opinion. There is no way of knowing whether or not he succeeded.
It is for that reason, obviously, that Mencken wrote more about the American Language than anyone. He would be angered by the meaningless platitudes that often parade as literate speech or political debate; he would snort at puffed up slogans like family values and compassionate conservatism; he would slice and dice pure bunkum like supply side economics.
The best example is still the word liberal —the successful debasement of which spelled doom for the liberal movement. Now liberals feel obliged to change the name of their movement to progressive.
Liberal once meant "free" but that predates Joseph McCarthy, Barry Goldwater, Ronald Reagan, Newt Gingrich, Rush Limbaugh, Karl Rove and the current occupant of the Oval Office. In each case and many more, language itself is attacked, exploited, degraded and debased by those motivated to cloak a disingenuous agenda.
The word Liberal derives from the latin "liberalis", meaning "pertaining to a free man". Other words from that root are "liberty," "liberation," and libertarian, and, of course Liberal. It is the "liberte" in the French rallying cry: "Liberte, Fraternite, Egalite." To be "Liberal," therefore, is to be free, to believe in freedom. Those opposed to liberal are therefore opposed to "freedom". That describes the American right wing, its recent bent toward totalitarianism, its successful attempts to link Liberal with waste, communism, Keynesian economics, and big government. It is ironic that both big government (under Reagan) and Keynesian economics (under Bush) have ostensibly been embraced by the Republican rank and file even as they denounce the "liberals" who presumably espouse it. I think the word for that is hypocrisy —a word not found in the modern conservative lexicon.
The epithet "big government Liberal" in the mouths of a Republican is oxymoronic, hypocritical and ludicrous. Nixon said "...we're all Keynesians now" and it was Nixon, of course, who is known for the very un-conservative imposition of wage and price controls, a draconian measure of big government if there ever was one. The biggest U.S. governments since World War II have all been of GOP creation. It was the Democrats who were tarred with the label "tax and spend", but, in reality, it is the GOP that presided over the largest military build up in the world and it has done so upon the backs of those who can least afford it.
Proportionally, the biggest tax burdens have fallen upon lower and middle income earners —the very groups who lost ground over a period of some 30 years. It was over that period of time that the incomes of the upper one percent of the U.S. population increased exponentially. Only the upper quintile prospered; everyone else lost ground.
Bush doesn't do nuance. And that is a shame; someone, somewhere feels pain everytime Bush fails to do a nuance. Can you imagine explaining Adam Smith, Malthus, Ricardo, or Keynes to G. W. Bush —a man who claims to be conservative but would be hard pressed to tell you why?
What is to be said of someone who refuses to be informed? Is this the root of Bush antipathy to the Constitution —or is his ignorance a disingenuous act to conceal the real reasons that he would subvert the underpinnings of American democracy? I am, admittedly, overly fond of quoting Bertolt Brecht on this point but no one makes that point more succinctly:
A man who does not know the truth is just an idiot but a man who knows the truth and calls it a lie is a crook!Iconoclasts are always misunderstood; truth telling has become un-patriotic. Were he alive and writing today, Mencken would be assailed for telling the truth. But Mencken had the verbal ammunition to take them on. As Mencken himself said, "One horse-laugh is worth ten-thousand syllogisms." Mencken would dispatch Bill Frist with a single phrase: "Puritanism —The haunting fear that someone, somewhere may be happy."
—Bertolt Brecht
Which pretty much says it all, doesn't it?
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Prejudice, the 82nd Airborne and Brokeback Mountain
Let's talk about homosexuality for a moment.
First, let's consider the Christian perspective. That's the excuse that a lot of people choose to structure their personal dislike of homosexuals around. "It's in the Bible! God hates fags!" Of course, there are a number of answers to that. The easiest is to find out if they ever eat pork or shellfish, or mix two different fabrics together. Those are also banned by the Bible, but very few people pay attention to those issues.
Secondly, let me give you two other Bible quotes. Matthew 7:1-3. “Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why beholdest thou the mote in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?”
That's the King James version. I may not be especially religious, but I've always preferred the poetry of that language.
Here's an even better verse, though. Mark 12:29-31. “The first of all the commandments is, Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord: And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love they neighbor as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.”
Seems pretty plain to me. (Even if King James thought "there is none other commandment" was proper sentence structure...) Like I said, I'm not all that religious. But if you're going to claim to be a Christian, shouldn't you pull the rules for your life from the New Testament instead of the old one? Otherwise, you should just convert to Judaism.
But the military has fallen fully in line with the bad Christians who make up the "Religious Right," and the ban on gays in the military is fully in effect. I actually had a briefing from the Legal Office a few years before I retired (shortly after Dubya was elected), where the military lawyer tried to explain that "Don't Ask, Don't Tell, Don't Pursue" was not official military policy. But, you don't ask somebody what his sexual preference was, and if they don't tell you that they're gay, then you don't go after them to find out if they're gay.
I'm serious. He was doing his best Scotty McClellan, trying to tell us that, although "Don't Ask, Don't Tell, Don't Pursue" was not policy, you still weren't allowed to ask or pursue, and the homosexuals who didn't tell would be just fine. Honest.
And what has this led to? What we have, just under a month ago, is seven members of the 82nd Airborne, one of the Army’s most elite units (no, really, “most elite” makes sense. It does. It just seems redundant because you don’t think like the military does. See, they took the phrase “elite unit,” and instead of it being descriptive – “elite” – of the group of people – “unit” – they drained all of the meaning out of it, so that “elite unit” is now a philosophical construction, and the best of the people in that group… oh, never mind. Just trust me, they understand it)…
Where was I again?
Oh, right. Anyway, what we have is seven members of the 82nd Airborne, a group of Special Forces paratroopers (I really want to go off on a tangent about “special education,” but I’m too easily distracted anyway) are getting kicked out of the military for making videos that were simultaneously both pornographic and homosexual.
Now, let’s be real for a second. If these guys can still fight and kill, what excuse is there for kicking them out of the Special Forces? After all, they proved that they can work as a team, right? But the military has this stupid prejudice against homosexuality, which probably stems from the fact that they’re pretty heavily repressed themselves.
I mean, look at them. Big leather boots, polished like mirrors... crisp, starched uniforms... berets perched on their closely-shaven skulls... working out all the time, so they’re obviously fixated on the male physique... Come on! It’s like they’re auditioning for the Village People twenty-four hours a day.
And because of this extreme self-loathing, the military has to kick out anyone who brings out a PING on their gaydar. Even if it means that they have to kick out every Arabic translator right before they invade an Arabic-speaking country, they aren’t going to let things like logic get in the way of their prejudice.
(In case you’re curious, they get around this little problem through the all-American habit of “out-sourcing.” When I was in Iraq, all of the translators I met, outside of a few locals hired as secretaries and the like, were contractors, hired at ten or twenty times the price of keeping the military translator and ignoring his sexual orientation. Makes sense, doesn’t it?)
But despite this hatred of all things gay, somewhere out there is a requisition form that might just include the line “Videotape, homosexual, one each.” Because… well, we’ll just let the news article speak for itself.
Military interrogators posing as FBI agents at the U.S. detention center at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, wrapped terrorism suspects in an Israeli flag and forced them to watch homosexual pornography under strobe lights during interrogation sessions that lasted as long as 18 hours, according to one of a batch of FBI memos released Thursday.That’s right. They set up an S&M disco in Guantanamo. And think about it for a minute. Somebody had to actually audition the videos. Somewhere out there, some colonel had a big stack of movies, probably smoking a big cigar (because, after all, sometimes a cigar isn’t just a cigar…), saying things like “Nope. Not gay enough. Next!”
And he had to watch them all the way through, right? You’ve got to make sure that it’s gay from top to bottom (so to speak). You can’t let any straight sex scenes sneak in, can you? Wouldn’t that ruin the effect of the movie?
And those prejudices can pop up in a number of places. Here's a question for you. It almost seems like it isn't related, but if you think about it for a while, maybe you'll see that it is. Because Hollywood has taken a number of hits lately from the right wing about how liberal they are. So did they cave in to pressure?
If a man is given the Best Director award, wouldn't you think that the only movie that he directed that year, a product of his vision and a tribute to his directing talents, would be the best film that year? Especially if the script is the "Best Adapted Screenplay?" (Not to mention that it had the "Best Original Score"...) Doesn't that seem to follow? So, we have Ang Lee, the Best Director, using the Best Screenplay (that was taken from another source), and setting it against the Best Original Music out there. But despite that, his film Brokeback Mountain was not the Best Picture?
It's just a thought.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Pay too much and you could raise the alarm
OK, I usually post my own thoughts. But I want to do my part to make sure that this story doesn't just disappear from the Internet. It's from the Providence, Rhode Island Journal, and written on 28 February, 2006 by Bob Kerr for the Scripps Howard News Service.
Walter Soehnge is a retired Texas schoolteacher who traveled north with his wife, Deana, saw summer change to fall in Rhode Island and decided this was a place to stay for a while.Welcome to America in the 21st century. George Orwell was just 20 years early.
So the Soehnges live in Scituate now and Walter sometimes has breakfast at the Gentleman Farmer in Scituate Village, where he has passed the test and become a regular despite an accent that is definitely not local.
And it was there, at his usual table last week, that he told me that he was "madder than a panther with kerosene on his tail."
He says things like that. Texas does leave its mark on a man.
What got him so upset might seem trivial to some people who have learned to accept small infringements on their freedom as just part of the way things are in this age of terror-fed paranoia. It's that "everything changed after 9/11" thing.
But not Walter.
"We're a product of the '60s," he said. "We believe government should be way away from us in that regard."
He was referring to the recent decision by him and his wife to be responsible, to do the kind of thing that just about anyone would say makes good, solid financial sense.
They paid down some debt. The balance on their JCPenney Platinum MasterCard had gotten to an unhealthy level. So they sent in a large payment, a check for $6,522.
And an alarm went off. A red flag went up. The Soehnges' behavior was found questionable.
And all they did was pay down their debt. They didn't call a suspected terrorist on their cell phone. They didn't try to sneak a machine gun through customs.
They just paid a hefty chunk of their credit card balance. And they learned how frighteningly wide the net of suspicion has been cast.
After sending in the check, they checked online to see if their account had been duly credited. They learned that the check had arrived, but the amount available for credit on their account hadn't changed.
So Deana Soehnge called the credit-card company. Then Walter called.
"When you mess with my money, I want to know why," he said.
They both learned the same astounding piece of information about the little things that can set the threat sensors to beeping and blinking.
They were told, as they moved up the managerial ladder at the call center, that the amount they had sent in was much larger than their normal monthly payment. And if the increase hits a certain percentage higher than that normal payment, Homeland Security has to be notified. And the money doesn't move until the threat alert is lifted.
Walter called television stations, the American Civil Liberties Union and me. And he went on the Internet to see what he could learn. He learned about changes in something called the Bank Privacy Act.
"The more I'm on, the scarier it gets," he said. "It's scary how easily someone in Homeland Security can get permission to spy."
Eventually, his and his wife's money was freed up. The Soehnges were apparently found not to be promoting global terrorism under the guise of paying a credit-card bill. They never did learn how a large credit card payment can pose a security threat.
But the experience has been a reminder that a small piece of privacy has been surrendered. Walter Soehnge, who says he holds solid, middle-of-the-road American beliefs, worries about rights being lost.
"If it can happen to me, it can happen to others," he said.
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