perfidy

Roving correspondent "Geek Lethal," who claims he is too "busy" to blog these days (fie! pah! and ptui!) brought to my attention a seven-day running feature in Stars and Stripes (they're on day seven today). The magazine surveyed nearly 2000 soldiers from all services stationed in Iraq about morale, mission, and conditions, and are publishing the results with generous annotations.

I'm still working through it, and so far it's really interesting. We hear some of this stuff, but not nearly all of it, and it's instructive to hear what the soldiers in the field think. A lot of it is standard-issue bitching that soldiers have done since the mustering of the 1st Rock & Stick Corps, but some of the contrasts in conditions are very marked; for example, Air Force flyboys with a Pizza Hut, gym, and hot showers separated by barbed wire from a camp of Army reservists who live in tents and subsist on MRE's.

The big picture is better than what we hear sometimes in the press (quag!mi!re!), but neither is everything working perfectly. The Marines and Air Force have relatively high morale, while that of the reservists, again, is fairly low. Some confusion is evident in the ranks as to why they are doing what they're doing, but the overall picture is reassuringly close to what I figured it would be. Basically, in army-speak it's Situation Normal.

Highlights: Day 1 covers methodology and overview; Day 4 discusses the new role the reserves play in military strategy; and day 5 covers in part the need for flexibility in the face of shifting goals.

Overall, it's a fascinating (albeit long) read. Go look: it's worth your time.

The entire blog-world is up at arms about the Senate's vote yesterday to require Iraq to repay some $20 billion of the $87 billion aid-and-reconstruction package currently up for vote.

Of all the stupid, craven, shit-headed...

Go read. Start with John Cole, who has links to about 80 percent of the rest of the blogsphere. Cole writes, "[A] coalition of greens, sociaists, liberals, center left Democrats, center right Republicans, little-l libertarians, and conservatives in the blogosphere all think this is a shitty idea. Can we all be wrong?"

Not if I agree with you, you can't! Write your Senators and Congressmen today!

[alsø wik] MuffinMan comments that the Senate is not being stupid, in that they know exactly what they're doing in catering to their constituents. Fair enough. But I think it is stupid yet very clever at the same time. That is, the Senate is pandering to some focus-group constituency in demanding that Iraq pay back money we're giving them to rebuild after we kicked their asses. Clever for pandering and stupid for demanding! Two great tastes that taste great together!

[alsø alsø wik] A while back, Buckethead compared America's foreign policy obligations to Spider-Man: "with great power comes great responsibility". In a comment (now lost) I observed that there is a crucial difference between the two: after Spidey defeats Doc Ock, he isn't obliged to stick around and make sure that his minions and slaves get housing, food, hot water, etc. The US, to some measure, is.

I now wish to augment my point. Buckethead is right, I think: the US is like Spider-Man. It's a fun metaphor with a lot of truth in it. So can you imagine a situation in which Spidey sticks someone with a bill for rescuing them?

"Don't worry ma'am, I'm here to save you!"
"Spider-Man! I'm so glad you're here!"
Biff! Sock! Zook! Kazsh! Bort! Arrrrgh!
"Oh, Spider-Man! Thank you!"
"All in a day's webcrawling, ma'am. I think he'll be tied up for a while... um... you wouldn't happen to have your wallet on you, would you?"
"What's this?"
"Just your friendly neighborhood invoice, ma'am. My terms are 30 days."

I have an abiding fondness for travel books, especially of places I know. Part of it is a navel-gazing impulse to wander through my idyllic memories of, say, Britain, while leaving aside the time I got food poisoning and had to discard my pants on the train to Durham. But a greater part of it is a desire to see what others think of where I've been, and whether they think the same. I love the food in Pittsburgh-- do they hate it? I loathe midtown Manhattan as a bleak wasteland of grasping industry and tourist despair. Others apparently lack my keenly honed critical faculties and love it to pieces.

Recently, my wife picked up Simone de Beauvoir's recently-back-in-print memoir of her first trip to the United States, "America Day by Day" in a remainder bin. She read it with mounting excitement, and did everything she could to keep me from stealing it until she was done (damn the crafty minx!). In the meantime, I amused myself by watching football and starting Tocqueville's "Democracy in America," itself a travel book about America.

The contrast is striking. Although written for totally different reasons, there are marked parallels between the two books: both were written by French intellectuals touring the United States at critical points in its history-- Tocqueville in the promising years of the early 1830s, de Beauvoir in the aftermath of World War II, just when the United States had emerged as the dominant power in the world, and Communism as its presumed nemesis; both attempt to extrapolate larger lessons from a partial view of the country; and both are intrigued by the ways in which Americans differ intellectually from their Continental counterparts.

But while Tocqueville's account is a celebration of the American democratic urge, meant for the great minds of Europe to learn from, de Beauvoir's is a much more personal account which, although it addresses some of the themes raised by Tocqueville 125 years previously, is a much more ambivalent (and nuanced) picture of American society on the rise. Whereas Tocqueville's account of American society has become a main point of reference for fans of American exceptionalism, de Beauvoir's text went out of print almost immediately. Whereas Tocqueville touted "equality" as the fundamental "point of origin" and wellspring of America's greatness, de Beauvoir is more concerned with the fabric of American life, and questions whether that "equality" actually exists. Whereas Tocqueville intends an exhaustive survey of the American political landscape, de Beauvoir lives day by day, encountering each place face to face. Reading them back to back makes for a great contrast.

But enough. Assuming you have read Tocqueville, or are familiar enough to get by, I'm going to leave him aside for the time being. (Buckethead, are you ready?)

Having only read excerpts of Simone de Beauvoir's philosophy, I was delighted to find that "America Day by Day" is a rich, entertaining, and idiosyncratic depiction of the United States as it was in the aftermath of World War II. It's shocking that the books has been out of print for fifty years, as I found it more credible than other accounts from the same period and just after (for example Gunnar Myrdal, and "The Man In The Grey Flannel Suit.") While it's a diary, it also manages to be much more.

De Beauvoir begins her journey across the US in New York, and uses the city as a sort of base camp. The early pages of the book are consumed with her culture shock and her first impressions of New York after seeing its images in so many films. What's immediately noticeable to the modern reader (and this goes for most of the book!) is how little things have changed in the sixty years intervening. See if you don't nod your head to her description of being overwhelmed by New York (this is pretty much exactly how it happened with me):

"I've often read, "New York with its cathedrals." I could have invented the phrase-- All these old cliches seem so hollow. Yet in the freshness of discovery, the words "contrasts" and "cathedrals" also come to my lips, and I'm surpised they seem so faded when the reality they capture is unchanged. People have told me something more precise: "On the Bowery on Sunday, the drunks sleep on the sidewalks." Here is the Bowery: drunks are sleeping on the sidewalks. This is just what the words meant, and their precision disconcerts me. How could they have seemed so empty when they are so true? It isn't with words that I will grasp New York. I no longer think of grasping it: I will be transformed by it. Words, images...-- they will not help me at all.... It's not possible to confront things here; they exist in another dimension-- they are simply here. And I look and look, as astonished as a blind man who has just recovered his sight."

Since she is a writer, de Beauvoir spent most of her time gadding about with other writers, intellectuals, and various hangers on. She writes eloquently about the differences between the American literary scene and the French, and wonders at all the young Americans who reject their homegrown authors except, reluctantly, Faulkner. In the wake of the fall of the Berlin wall and the horrors of Stalinism, it's a little jarring to hear her defending Communism against its American critics. But it's more than it seems; in the early years of anti-Communism, the stridency of anti-Communists seemed to threaten the idea of free speech. She recalls a drunken night getting into a shouting match with some friends-of-friends over this topic (as well as the mutually sheepish sobered-up aftermath), and it's hard to find fault with her condemnation of knee-jerk anti-Communist fever, regardless of what time has shown us.

Once de Beauvoir gets out of New York, the book really takes flight. In Chicago, she goes slumming with Nelson Algren, and begins to encounter the myriad ways in which Americans, as she sees it, are obsessed with race. (Interestingly, though she and Algren would be lovers for years, not a hint of it enters into this memoir.) She is struck by the filth of Chicago's suburbs, and by the natural beauty of the downtown. In Los Angeles, she hangs out with people who work in film, discovers that it's impossible to walk anywhere, and explores the canyons and valleys of the outlying areas. (It's fascinating to read a foreigner's account of the same Los Angeles immortalized in classics like "Hollywood Boulevard" and Chandler's Marlowe novels, and gratifying that she saw it pretty much the same way.)

She travels the Southwest by car, and marvels at the Grand Canyon as well as at the ways in which Native Americans integrated tourism into their cultural fabric. Always she has a keen eye for detail and remains fascinated by the little things Americans take for granted. She takes a Greyhound across Texas, learns to hate bus stations, and encounters segregation as the bus enters the South. When the black passengers find out she's French, they begin comfortably speaking with her, and the unspoken tension between her and them becomes tension between her and the white passengers.

Class-- or at least poverty and privelige-- is a constant theme in de Beauvoir's diary. She is constantly struck by the sheer plenitude of American consumer culture and by the standard of living enjoyed by most, remarking that no poor American writer would ever consider living in an unheated garret like their French counterparts. But she also finds this evident affluence doesn't extend everywhere. Nelson Algren takes her to the scummiest dives in Chicago, and she spends time with Bowery Bums in New York as well.

By contrast, her lecturing obligations take her to some of the best American schools-- Wellsley, Harvard, Princeton, UCLA-- and she is repeatedly struck (and touched, and horrified) by the casual assumptions the students make about life and entitlement, by their casual affluence, and by their near-total incuriousness about the world. But she regards the students with a kind wonder, reserving her acid for those times where she feels American arrogance-- that is, the casual assumption of "equality" that descends from Tocqueville and his peers-- gets in the way of Americans seeing what they are really saying (or leaving unsaid).

Since it's a travel book, de Beauvoir spends a fair amount of time in search of her favorite creature comforts. Meals are a constant theme (as in "the quest for an excellent meal"), as is jazz. She visits all the big New York clubs in search of "authentic" jazz and finds what seems to her to be only tourist trash, lazy swing, and bebop (which she detests as too white). Her favorite jazz moments (and meals!) happen by accident, such as in New Orleans.

We explain to [the owner] that we want to hear some good black jazz. His face darkens for a moment. The situation has been very tense between blacks and whites for some time now, and the blacks no longer want to perform for the whites. However, he suggests that we try the Absinthe House.... In the second room, there are several tables and a platform with three black musicians on piano, guitar, and bass.

Suddenly we're transported. This music is nothing like the music at Cafe Society or even the music in Harlem-- the three blacks are playing passionately, for themselves.... The band doesn't try to please or dazzle anyone; it plays the way it feels like playing. If the bass player-- a young black who's only eighteen, despite his girth-- sometimes closes his eyes in a trance, this isn't servile mimicry: he's just giving himself over to the music and the promptings of his heart. Right next to the band, there are two very young white men with black hair who are listening with religious attention and laughing amicably with the musicians between pieces.... They're probably young people who are stifled by American civilization and for whom black music is an escape.

It's impossible to write from memory without being selective, and the things de Beauvoir leaves unsaid are almost as important as what she dwells on-- just witness the foregoing. She mentions the Marshall Plan in passing once or twice, then enters Times Square to go nightclubbing. She defends Communism (or, more correctly, the right to be a Communist) without entering into the whys and wherefores of being a Communist in 1947. She says surprisingly little about American philosophy, dismissing Pragmatism in a few short sentences, and although she is shocked by the indifference of American intellectuals to American literature she says little about why she felt it had more promise than European writing of the time. She discusses Faulkner at several points, but when she enters Faulkner's South she does so without reference to him. Part of this, of course, is that Simone de Beauvoir was actually visiting territory she had only studied maps of; the maps were proving useless. But, naturally, a careful reading of what goes unsaid reveals much about her unquestioned assumptions about the world and America. This is probably the most valuable aspect of the book, and the one that makes me recommend it as essential reading.

I'm glad I'm reading this book back-to-back with Tocqueville's "Democracy in America." If I ever teach a class in US history as I keep meaning to do, I'll probably assign excerpts from them that way. Tocqueville's classic work describes an America at the brink of inheriting immense gifts, poised on a knife's edge between wild success and chaos, and holds up the American system as a paragon for the world to follow. Despite repeated attemps to bury it, that legacy still persists as one major theme in American self-identity. Without intending to, Simone de Beauvoir's book addresses similar themes more than a century later, and provides an idiosyncratic and compelling counter-assessment of Tocqueville's promises.

In short, having read Tocqueville and de Beauvoir (admittedly, I'm a bit bogged down in the middle of Tocqueville), I have to say that, despite the influence Tocqueville has enjoyed, de Beauvoir's long-forgotten memoir says as much or more about America as it actually exists. Part of that owes to the 125 year separating them, but part of it is that de Beauvoir is a hell of a writer.

The best part about travel books is the way in which immediate experience and writerly license throw into sharp relief the most pressing issues and nagging details. You can do much worse than Simone de Beauvoir on this count, and this time I didn't even have to throw out my pants.

Here's all I will say about yesterday's game.

Being a relative newcomer to New England, I learned secondhand the pain, agony, and exhilaration of being a Red Sox fan. It's part of the catchecism every New Englander learns before they learn to walk: Bucky Dent, Bill Buckner, and the whole lot of it. The lessons came easy to me, being well-prepared in my youth as a Cleveland Browns and (erstwhile) Indians fan.

But a catchecism can only teach your mind. It takes a soul-quaking revelation to make you understand. now I understand.

Buckethead: as much as I'd like to root against the Marlins, I cannot. Pudge Rodriguez is one of my favorite players, and the rest of the team play exciting baseball. What's more, until the fires of hell swallow the Yankees (except Bernie Williams and Joe Torre: class acts), I won't be happy. I will accept as a substitute a soul-crushing Yankees defeat after which Derek Jeter cries like a little girl like he did last year after the Angels series.

I will not be watching the world series. I was indoctrinated from birth to hate the Yankees. That will never change. The only time I would ever cheer them on is in a purely tactical situation where a Yankees win over some other team would advance the prospects of the Indians. The fact that they have won basically all of the last twenty world series only adds to my hatred.

I also hate the Marlins. This ridiculous expansion team, only in existence for eleven years, has already won one world series, defeating the Indians. They do not deserve another. And for the pain they inflicted on me back in '97, they should go another 100 years without having a winning season.

The only way I would watch the series is if they changed the rules in such a way that it became possible for both teams to lose. The Yankees and Marlins collectively represent all that is wrong in baseball and the world at large. Fie on them both, fie.

The Ministry sends its heartfelt condolences to the fans of the Chicago and Boston areas. While under ordinary circumstances the Ministry would stay true to its idiom of stoic and callous, even merciless disregard for the feelings of others, when the Ministry witnessed the sign held by a typically arrogant Yankees fan at the end of yesterdays game which read, (if the Ministry recalls correctly) "Which curse is worse?" and had crudely drawn depictions of the logos for both the Cubs and Red Sox teams; the Ministry was forced to take sides.

Feeling the pain of two heartbroken bloggers in Chicago, the Ministry has added them to the blogroll. They are The Spoons Experience and Pejmanesque.

Recently, I noted that the New York club The Bottom Line was in danger of closing.

Witness the power of the grassroots! Jeff Lang, a New York University alumnus, has begun a petition drive to persuade NYU (The Bottom Line's landlords) to spare the venue. You can see the petition and further information at savethebottomline.com. Alumni can petition here, the rest of us can go through the main page.

In the interest of fairness and balance, I offer this piece by way of contrast to the Iraq progress report I pointed to last week. The story, which comes from the UK Independent, claims that US soldiers bulldozed the farms of Iraqis who refused to aid in ferreting out resistance fighters.

Of course, it's possible that this is merely hearsay (Lord, I hope so), which only means it's still nearly as credible as what you hear on the news.

The bottom line is, from the conservative press, I hear how great things are in Iraq. From the mainstream press, I hear how it's a quagmire. From the leftist press, I hear it's armageddon. All I want is a reason to hold out hope that it will all turn out well. The "right" seems consumed with wishing disaster on the Vast Left-Wing Conspiracy, and the "left" seems consumed with wishing disaster on the US, and by extension, Iraq. You all believe what you want. I'm going to go watch baseball.

One, two and three.

I have been conflicted on this whole issue - on the one hand, file trading is certainly illegal, and likely wrong as well; but on the other hand, the RIAA is a nefarious organization whose ham-handed strongarm tactics have won it no sympathy from me or the general public.

I believe that in the not too distant future, this debate will be rendered moot by the advancement of technology. Someone will come along with a new distribution method and a sound legal and business strategy. Some of the old recording industry giants will adapt, others will not and will fade away. Consumers will be able to buy music by the song or in bulk, on physical media or over the interweb for much less money; and their selection will be vastly greater. The only real question is whether the artists will get a better deal from the new regime.

Game 7 of the American League Championship series. The Sox and Yankees in Yankee Stadium. Pedro and Clemens at it again. Pedro's first start-- in the Bronx-- after Saturday's slugfest. Clemens' last start before retirement. The Yankees have won 5 of the last 6 titles. The Sox have won almost 30 games this season in their last at-bat. The Sox won their first series 3-2, digging out of an 0-2 deficit. The Yankees are hungry again, the last two years having proven to them that there is no sure thing. The Sox are hungrier, and are playing team ball like Boston hasn't seen in decades.

Cue music. Cue lights. Cue slow-motion.

You can't make this stuff up.

When I was a tyke, I read Mad Magazine all the time. Long before I knew what "randy" and "bazoombies" even meant I though everything they did was absolutely hilarious(, which explains a lot about me). The weirdest stuff sticks with me. I remember back in the early and mid 70's, whenever the people at Mad drew a mob scene, there was always one guy in a corner stuffing his fist in his mouth. I didn't know why, and at age ten I never understood it, but there it always was: a crowd of people going apeshit, and a dude with his hand in his mouth.

Why do I bring this up? Because at approximately 8:15 Eastern time tonight, I was eating my fucking hand. Thirty seconds later, I was screaming triumphant obscenities at the legions of arrogant, ignorant Yankees fans I imagined were just in the other room. At some point, I misplaced my pants.

Those naysayers who believe that baseball is boring can go to hell. Tim McCarver and Joe Buck can go right behind them. Regardless of what happens tomorrow, tonight I watched the most exciting game of baseball I have ever seen, and the best part is the Red Sox won.

My commute is bad for 4PM start times: I leave in the middle of the 2nd or 3rd, usually, after watching as much live update gamecast as I can on mlb.com. Then an agonizing 90 minutes of silence. The Schroedinger's catbox agony of knowing/not knowing what's going on in the game is terrible, and the last few days merciful people with Wi-Fi connections have been keeping my train updated as to the score. Then I get home in the 7th (or later) and watch the end. Home is a sweet relief even when the game almost gives me a coronary.

Today, five innings of game was enough. Any more baseball may have killed me. The wind! The field conditions! Nomar's error! Yankees rally! Nomar's triple! Sox rally! Trot's dinger! That crazy wind! The bullpen by committee is finally working! Red Sox stay alive and win, 9-6, to force a game 7! Damn, it feels good to be a Masshole. Regardless of what happens tomorrow, when Pedro and Clemens go at it again, this has been the best post-season I've ever been witness too. And that includes the agonizing snowing-in-October Indians-Marlins World Series back when I was still a Cleveland fan and the Derek Jeter Game Of Tears last year.

Hope the Cubbies fuck Florida good. I'm'na go watch.

[update] The Cubbies failed to fuck Florida good. The possibility of a snoozer Yankees-Marlins series looms. If that happens.... hey, at least hockey and football are on.

[update] My most sincere condolences to the Chicago Cubs, and to the family and friends of Steve Bartman of Chicago, IL. Steve will be leaving now; is a leper colony in Calcutta far enough away?

[update] And, yes, congratulations to the Florida Marlins. They're not the same team that beat the Indians back in '97, and Dontrelle, Pudge, and the rest of that crew are an incredibly entertaining team to watch. Best of luck to 'em, unless they play the Red Sox.

This Wired article looks at the debate over cloning of food animals. Predictibly, consumers express reluctance to consider buying cloned meat, even though scientists are reasonably certain that it would be safe to eat.

Interestingly, this debate may well be moot: the economics of cloning cattle mean that we won't be eating Clone Steak any time soon. Cloning is not economically effective for raising cattle for slaughter ($72K a pop these days...), but it works when employed instead of breeding to perpetuate a particularly strong genetic line-- making ten copies of your best Hereford. Man! Stud fees galore!

--Editorial handwaving--
People flip out over genetically modified food way too much. Some advances, like the much-touted Vitamin-A enriched Golden Rice, are 100% double plus goods. Others are of more dubious good, like Monsanto seed that goes bad after a year. At this point, the general public is so paranoid about Frankenfood (and note the fear factor in that very slang) that a reasoned debate isn't even possible, even though plenty of food has already been tampered with at the genetic level by pointy-heads with clipboards. This paranoia is no way to feed the world.

On that note, the Wired article does note that the biggest concern of scientists working on cloning cattle is that a clone might escape and try to breed. Although it's hard to imagine a doomsday scenario arising from that event, if the scientists are worried, I'll let them find a solution.

Personally, I would LOVE the economics and technology of cloning to advance to the point that cheap beef could be vatgrown. That would be great! Cheesesteak without the cruelty! Seriously, one reason I don't eat a lot of meat is that I want to do my tiny, symbolic part to help humankind, and a cow takes up a lot of perfectly good grain that could otherwise feed people on the cheap. Vatgrown beef would mitigate this concern, and have the added benefit that a cow didn't have to die. Of course, the Black Angus top-line stuff could/should still be the real thang, but who the hell's going to notice the difference in cafeteria food?

I love the future!

Further contributing to what is adding up to be a fascinating session, the Supreme Court will hear an appeal of the COPA ("Children's Online Protection Act"), which has twice been struck down by the Third Circuit Court as unnecessarily vague and "constitutionally infirm." The Feds argue that the law is an important tool in fighing the War On Terror Paw-naw-gra-phy.

The usual suspects team up in the honorable defense of horrible things, arguing that the law as written bars adults from engaging in Constitutionally protected activities. Won't somebody please think of the children??

About an hour ago, the Chinese launched their first manned mission into space, with one Chinkonaut aboard. (Okay, that's the last time I'll use that. They made it into orbit, they deserve some props.) The Chinese government decided not to broadcast the launch live, but apparently all went well, and taikonaut Lt. Col. Yang Liwei, 38, is now circling the globe. He will return to Earth sometime tomorrow.

The Washington Post has some good coverage, or just go to the drudge report and use one of his several links. I'll have more on this tomorrow. 

I hope those two fans who blocked the catch make it out of Wrigley Field alive. Helpfully, the network kept putting their picture up on the screen.

I've always wanted to write that headline!

The Supreme Court has denied a US Government appeal of last year's ruling that the government may not revoke the licenses of doctors who recommend marijuana as medicine to patients. This clears the way toward state laws legalizing the perscription of medical marijuana.

Naturally, the government is horribly incensed: "Solicitor General Theodore Olson of the Justice Department appealed to the Supreme Court and said the decision impaired the government's power 'to enforce the law in an area vital to the public health and safety.' He said the appeals court decision imposed "sweeping and unprecedented restrictions on the government's ability even to investigate possible violations of the law."

Or, possibly, the Supreme Court returned some autonomy to the states.

This is especially interesting because it was only two weeks ago that the Attorney General called for more uniform sentencing guidelines. I'm unwilling to call a wink a blink-- I think this is merely evidence of contrary trends in government, but it's an entertaining dichotomy nevertheless.

[moreover] I see that the Supremes will hear the Pledge of Allegiance case. Ballsy! I wonder which way the Court will go on this one? On one hand, I don't see the need for "Under God" in the Pledge, especially since it's a Cold War relic and not exactly an Exalted Artifact of Time Immemorial. On the other hand, I don't think it's that huge a deal. On the gripping hand, it would be helpful for the Supremes to clarify exactly what they're thinking as regards the separation of Church and State, in several long, elegant, and detailed opinions. Pithiness will be a plus.

[moreover, once over] Allow me to oversimplify. When kids want drugs, it's eeevil and must be stopped. When old people want drugs, Congress can't do enough.

[moreover, overdone] I see from the Volokhs via Howard Bashman that Scalia has recused himself from the Pledge of Allegiance decision. See Bashman's post for discussion of exactly what the courts have and have not agreed to decide.

Via slashdot, we learn that Japanese engineers have developed kung-fu-fighting robots. Morph3 is a foot-tall martial arts dynamo, able to perform backflips and karate moves thanks to his 138 pressure sensors, 30 motors and 14 computers. Naturally, Morph3 runs on Linux. 

Researchers say that they are already hard at work on more intelligent ass-kicking robots. Hopefully, the researchers will not make them bullet-proof and consumed with implacable rage and a desire to destroy their makers. 
 

I was watching the news today, when the anchor starts a lead in for the next story: "Presidential candidate the Reverand Al Sharpton is upset that a new game reinforces negative racial stereotypes."

Now, my first reaction was, "what is the little tubby bastard exercised about now?" After the commercial break, it was revealed that the offensive game is called, and I am as serious as a heartattack,

Gettopoly

The game is a stolen property fencing game. The one property I remember was "Tyrone's Gun Shop." Reverend Al might have a point here.

Since the the game's site is not working, here is a link to a story about the game.

Software company sues student under DMCA for use of "shift" key.

[update] Two hours later: Software company comes to senses.

Over at Bill Whittle's place, there's a new, short post up on the aftermath of the CA Recall Election. I had thought some of this, though not quite so well, when I trolled through the Democratic Underground forum after it became clear that the Terminator would now be the Governator. The Democratic Underground is exactly what it would be if it were designed by an evil genius hired by Karl Rove to discredit the left. Of course, this is exactly what Sovietologist Robert Conquest's second law predicts: "The behavior of an organization can best be predicted by assuming it to be controlled by a secret cabal of its enemies."

Amazingly, no one who posts on DU seems to be aware of this.

Anyway, the best bit from Whittle's post:

I just heard on the radio from a Democratic state senator who said that "the people were unable to figure out who they were really angry at," that this was really a vote against George W Bush, only the people weren't smart enough to figure out how to go about it and blamed it on poor old Gray Davis. Yes, in their righteous fury and anger at the Republican President, the People of California elected - a Republican governor! That'll show him! 

But as I just learned from California Democratic Party members, we were too stupid to figure out who to be angry with. Yes, by all means - please continue to tell us how stupid we are. We'll love you with all our hearts! 

... DemocraticUnderground.com is awash in conspiracy theories, and spins on how this is 1) The most flagrant voter fraud since - um - the last election, which was itself only overshadowed once in all of history, that being the time right before; and 2) Really the best thing that could possibly happen, since now the Democratic Sweep of 2004 is assured.

And still these people wonder why, after insulting and demeaning the electorate, their poll numbers continue to go down? Shwartz---sorry, Governor Schwarzenegger and McClintock - two Republicans that essentially split the party ticket - together took home around 60% of Califreakingfornia! And instead of doing the smart thing - let alone the honorable thing - they keep hanging blame wherever they think it will stick. They lost because the machines were rigged. They lost because you voters are so stupid. They lost because of a backroom conspiracy. They lost because you're all racists. Or sheep. Or blinded by cheap glitter.

What an uplifting, inspiring philosophy! How can a simple citizen like me become a part of this great vision of leadership and hope?

This is the real, and very serious problem with the left. The contempt and derision for the electorate, the conspiracy theories, the Bush=Hitler, and all the other wacky shit desperately need to go far, far away and not come back. I sincerely hope that at some point it recovers from this madness, and we can have the relatively sane and mildly acrimonious political arena we once had.

[note: headline edited to moderate tone] This is not so good, I think.

The Catholic Church is telling people in countries stricken by Aids not to use condoms because they have tiny holes in them through which the HIV virus can pass - potentially exposing thousands of people to risk.

The church is making the claims across four continents despite a widespread scientific consensus that condoms are impermeable to the HIV virus.

This is simply untrue. Moreover, since some African nations are facing HIV infection rates of 20% and more, this is a mindblowingly inhumane position to take. Y'know, there is such a thing as being blinded by one's convictions.

The Drug Tsarina, who is apparently John Walters, is advocating pee-testing of schoolchildren.

This despite bucketloads of evidence that pee testing has no (or even a negative) result in cutting drug use in schools. Y'know, there's such a thing as being blinded by one's convictions.

Thanks to Reason for the pointer.

Later today, I will depart for my annual Hajj to the great Hershey car fest, there to gaze jealously at the wonderful antique automobiles. This trip is always fun and frustrating - I love old cars, and the medieval fair atmosphere of the show - but frustrating when you see a '67 Camaro RS/SS convertible on the last day whose price has been knocked down $3000 because the owner wants to unload it. 

Or a 49 Buick Roadmaster convertible whose owner is being deployed overseas. And you just don't have the money. Damn. 

Someday, these cars will be mine. Yes indeedy do.

Via slashdot, this delightful article from the pointy heads at the Wharton School. The author, G. Richard Shell begins by making the fairly obvious point that suing your customer base might not be the best idea, but then goes on to give us some solid historical precedent for that conclusion, notably the efforts of the Automobile industry to sue Henry Ford's customers.

Fascinating article, and a valuable perspective on the future of the RIAA's attempts to make itself a pariah. 

The NFL announced today the candidates for the 2004 class of the NFL Hall of Fame. As a proud-yet-ashamed-yet-fiercely-proud Ohioan, I'm appalled.
Lets' review.

Up once again for nomination are three "contributors" to the game of football who should make any right-thinking Ohioan (pron: "o-heeszhian") gag. They are:

• Art Modell. A filthy little toad of a man who once held a city hostage and broke the heart of millions, for the sake of moving to Baltimore. Baltimore!
• Art Rooney, Jr. Moneybags for the hated, hateful Pittsburgh Steelers. The Steelers make me conflicted, because my wife's from Pittsburgh, my favorite city in the USA is Pittsburgh, and Pittsburgh has better sandwiches. So, for making me feel conflicted, Art Rooney: you're a dick.
• Ed DeBartolo, Jr. Why, do you ask, would a good Ohio boy have a hate on for the owner of the 49ers? Why, indeed? Well, I don't know, but I've been told, that Ed DeBartolo, Jr. and his father are mobsters, and I do know they are all tied up in real estate in Northeastern Ohio. It's where they're from. They've really made a mess of things up there. It's a little-known fact that Northeast Ohio is mob central. It's what brought Jim Traficant to power, and brought him down.

And finally, Satan Himself has been offered a seat at the Big Table.

• QB: John Elway. Ol' horseface. I hate him. I hate him so much. I hate him with lead pipe fury and a righteousness that burns like a million suns. Why? The Drive. Fucker.

One, two

The year: 1953. As millions "mourn" the death of Josef Stalin, the Man of Steel, a funeral procession with full military honors rolls through Moscow in a heavy snow. The procession of a thousand vehicles includes an open-topped hearse with one coffin, draped in hammer and sickle. Inside, a headless body.

Several hundred miles outside Moscow, a small caravan of trucks speeds through the night towards the distant foothills of the Ural Mountains. Their quest: deliver the frozen head of Josef Stalin to the mountain lair of Dr. Josef Mengele, evil genius and fugitive from world justice. Cut scene. The truck pulls up outside a dilapidated hut tucked in the angle between two sheer cliffs which rise like giant's hands toward the stormy sky. A light appears briefly in the night, then goes out.

In Doctor Mengele's underground lair, bright lights glare off a tangled forest of beakers, hoses, pipes, the hulking silhouettes of vacuum-tube computers, and other more exotic equipment. A low throbbing hum rises through the octaves into a high-pitched squeal, and then… ZARK! A brilliant flash of purple light. Several guards fly backwards from a plain steel table heaped with unidentifiable parts, their hair and clothing smoking.

For an excruciating moment, nothing happens. Assistants begin to fidget, envisioning the unthinkable punishments visited on those who fail. A groaning and creaking returns everyone’s eyes to the table in the center of the cavernous room. Involuntary gasps are heard as a giant metal figure rises slowly to a sitting posture. Everyone but the Doctor recoils in horror as a voice grates through a speaker recessed in the beast's chest - "Congratulations, Herr Doktor, for now I truly am the man of steel!" Joints whine and hydraulics hiss as the giant robot with the head of Stalin drives a titanium fist through the torso of a convenient guard. "And how goes the space vehicle?"

For months the world of cloak-and-dagger trembles as the finest men on earth battle the new enemy from the Urals. The heroes of the War are called back from their plows. The mettle of the free world is tested. Good men and women die, and evil rises triumphant. But slowly, slowly, the tide turns in the clandestine war. As the US Army battles the Communist menace in Korea -—a mere sideshow to the main battle raging furiously across the steppes, Premier Kruschev, advised by a cabal of the greatest minds ever assembled, brings Stalin, the Doctor, and their minions to ground in the very place of his birth: Doctor Mengele's underground lair. One ten-megaton blast, and the world is safe once again.

The year: 2002. The oldest of the cold warriors have long since retired, and the great minds of the Twentieth century have given way to younger, eager, yet callow figures. Few remain who were privy to the most horrible secrets of fifty years before.

January 2003. Several nuclear warheads go missing in Kazakhstan. A week later, Pakistan can't find some of theirs. Thousands of pounds of anthrax disappear "just disappear!" from stocks hidden deep in the Iraqi desert. Gradually, like a nearly cold fire catching once again in the ashes of the past, old contacts are restored, long-dormant ciphers carry cryptic messages, and a steady stream of refugees show the Urals have become a perilous place once again.

September 2003. A force of Russian army regulars guarding a mobile orbital launch platform fail to check in. Investigations go nowhere and reveal nothing but that the platform is gone without a trace. The Putin government can say nothing to the world. North Korea, growing ever more belligerent, announces it has nuclear weapons. Disturbing chatter is heard between terrorist groups in the Middle East long thought to hate each other.

Cut scene: An underground bunker cut from solid rock. A long black table in the center of a murkily lit room. Pairs of figures filter in from the four corners, guards leading bound "guests." The guests are seated and their bonds removed. Some can be immediately recognized as Saddam Hussein, Osama bin Ladin, Kim Jong Il, and Idi Amin (looking much the worse for wear). Others are nondescript: a cluster of unshaven men in orange hunting camo, a few round-faced men in green fatigues, and a well-groomed man who may or may not be a member of Ace of Base.

A giant metal figure enters the room, trailed by a smaller, wheeled cart topped by a glass dome containing what appears to be a human head. A voice grates from a speaker. "Gentlemen, I imagine you are wondering why I called you all here. Please make yourselves comfortable as the good Doctor explains all....

What horrible menace awaits the world as the combined forces of evil plot their secret deeds? And what force of men, living or dead, could hope to stop such stupendous perfidy from coming to pass? What force indeed? Well, the A-list wasn't available so we had to go with these: 

• Paul Muad-dib, (Dune): strategic commander
• John Rambo (First Blood, Rambo II): arms master, righteous anger, and implausible immunity to bullets
• John MacGuyver (the television show of the same name): technical advisor
• Indiana Jones: intelligence coordinator, bullwhip, and Middle East specialist.
• Philip Marlowe (from the novels of Raymond Chandler): narration, surveillance, shakedowns, and mordant humor.
• Molly Millions (from William Gibson's Sprawl Trilogy): Wetwork.
• The Escapist (Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Klay): languages, disguise, daring rescues, and Eastern Europe/Russian specialist.
• Captain Benjamin Willard (Apocalypse Now): infiltration and Asian specialist. 

As this mission will involve countering multiple, shifting threats in uncertain territory, I chose to favor individual prowess, scrappiness, and ability to adapt over brute force or sheer intellect.

Paul Muad-dib is the most brilliant military commander I have ever encountered, and several factors work in his favor here: his Islamic roots; his unparalleled ability to raise partisan guerrilla forces; and his ability to contain egos.

Rambo apparently can't be killed by bullets; that's a plus. He will serve as the moral center of the mission, and also as military equipment specialist. He will be an independent operator in the Russia, Asian, and Latin American theatres. He will also serve as tactical commander, jointly with Captain Willard. 

MacGuyver will be a roaming independent operative without portfolio, and will serve as technical advisor to the rest (duct tape! rocketry! fluid dynamics!). He and The Escapist should be unstoppable in tandem.

Indiana Jones will be an independent operator in the North African and Middle Eastern theatres, and coordinate intelligence efforts gathered by the others. After a massive crash course, he will be the resident Middle East expert.

Philip Marlowe will be an independent operator, as well as the narrator of the ongoing struggle. He will be responsible for US operations as well as diplomatic operations to Europe and the UN.

Molly Millions will kill lots of people quietly.

The Escapist will do advance undercover recon and undertake the most intricate search-and-rescue missions. As he has experience in Russia and Eastern Europe, that will be his theatre, and he will assist Capt. Willard and John Rambo in Asian affairs as necessary.

Finally, Captain Willard will penetrate the forces of Stalin, and engage him in morbid conversation. He will then kill Stalin in slow motion with a machete while music plays. Failing that, he will serve as an independent operator in the Asian sphere.

The team will be supported by three small cadres: one, a stable of MIT and ex-CIA pointy-heads, working to neutralize the threat of robot Stalin. The second, an elite cadre of the best elite forces from around the world: Special Forces, SAS, Israel. They will provide muscle, expert military advice, and tactical support for larger-scale operations. The third, for comic relief, will be a ragtag bunch of legitimate diplomats, working feverishly to cover up, explain, or justify any sudden shifts in global power, nuclear blasts, or local outbreaks of horrible disease.

The fate of humanity hangs in the balance. Can our heroes stop the nuclear and biological threat in time, and make the world safe for democracy, whisky, and sexy?

Tune in next week, when you will hear John Rambo say, "gueahhh, gremm bagabble. Adrian!"

Looking over the election results from the recent unpleasantness in California, I was reminded of a comment thread we had here a while back. In that discussion, we pondered the utility and viability of the Libertarian party.

I think that this result supports my argument:

So far, every person who acted in the movie Predator who has run for governor has won the election. Sadly, Carl Weathers lives in Los Angeles, and will have to wait for the Governator to move out of office, or else move back to his native Louisiana.

Here. Looks like nothing before the middle of the month.

[Update] Reports are conflicting, but it looks like the mission will be longer than the first missions of either the US or USSR. The yahoo article linked on Drudge is saying 14 orbits, which would be nearly a day in orbit. (Gagarin did, iirc, three orbits, and Glenn did one.)

I'm hoping for the Cubs to play the Sox in the series. A more angst-ridden, hopeless confrontation could not be imagined. The only question is, which team does one cheer for? I think I shall wish for the Cubs to win, so that Pejman will link us, and to pay back Johno for the OSU cracks.

While the Cubs fans have seemingly adjusted to defeat after almost a hundred years, the Sox fans stubbornly cling to the idea that they can win, despite all the evidence to the contrary. They make Jesuitical contortions coming up with bizarre theories for their haplessness - "It's a curse," or "Buckner was a Yankee double agent" or whatever. I think it will be more interesting to watch Red Sox fans suffer.

Go Cubs!

Those crazy jokers at PETA sent a fax to Roy whatsisface the gay tiger man, y'know, the man in the hospital for near-beheading-by-tiger, which read in part, "neener, neener, neener!"

Actually, it didn't, but almost. From the New York Newsday tabloid-type article:

"Perhaps Friday's frightening incident will make you realize that a brightly lit stage with pounding music and a screaming audience is not the natural habitat for tigers, lions, or any other exotic animals," PETA Vice President Dan Mathews wrote.

"The only natural thing that happened on that stage was that this majestic animal lashed out against a captor who was beating him with a microphone because he wouldn't do a trick," Mathews continued. "No matter how much you say that you love the wild animals whom you have confined continents away from their natural homes, you are still the men who have subjugated their wills and natures to further your own careers."

The pain of letting PETA down hurts Roy worse than his near-fatal neck wounds, I betcha anything.

Regardless of what you might think about the ethics of training animals to perform as Sigfried and Roy do, most reasonable people will agree with me that PETA has chosen to take the crude, wilfully sanctimonious approach to making their point. As usual.

Johno insisted that this be done by today, so here it is:

The governments of the United States and Britain have discovered that the Earth is in peril. A team of British SAS captured a mysterious man in the mountains of Afghanistan, a man who spoke no known languages. After bringing in some linguists and therapeutic semanticians, the Brits discovered that the man believed he came from another dimension, a parallel earth whose history had diverged far in the past. While his story was remarkably detailed and consistent, it was too farfetched for anyone to believe.

Later, an American army unit based in Kazakhstan was engaged in training maneuvers when they discovered a mystery man of their own. After a similar period of confusion and language difficulties, they extracted from their captive a story remarkably similar to the one told to the Brits.

The stories were ominous. The two men were representatives, or scouts for a cross dimensional empire that was planning on invading our Earth. It appeared that this empire was ruled by a descendent of the Great Khan, Ghengis, and that the Mongol propensity for pyramids of human skulls had not atrophied over the centuries. These 21st Century Mongols had already conquered their own and a dozen other worlds. Their technology is unknown, but feared to be equal or greater to our own. And of course, they have some means of traveling between the parallel worlds.

Obviously, no word of this threat could be released, at least not until more knowledge was acquired. Shifting around the kind of prominent people that would of necessity make up recon team for a mission of this importance would clue people in to the fact that something was going on. Happily, both the British and American governments (in the interests of posterity) had been freezing the heads of accomplished citizens since the the development of refrigeration technology in the mid nineteenth century.

In the last several months, an American research team had successfully revived the first of the frozen heads, that of Sid Vicious. Despite the advanced genetic technology that put the mind of the deceased into a brand new youthful body, the revived Mr. Vicious immediately committed suicide. Faced with the greatest threat ever, the decision was made to assemble a team from the deceased, so that the mission could have the greatest chance of success while still remaining utterly secret.
The Team:

Sir William Samuel Stephenson: “The man called Intrepid” Canadian born inventor, ace fighter pilot, businessman, and finally spymaster for the British in WWII. Team Leader

Dr. Richard P. Feynman:Brilliant Physicist, head of theoretical division in the Manhattan Project, with a brain “second only to Einstein” – but more in touch with reality. Science Officer

Nicola Tesla: Serbian-American inventor, arguably the most creative and capable technologist in human history. Technologist

Bruce Lee: The most skilled and fearsome martial artist in human history. Human Weapon

Sir Richard Francis Burton: Spy, soldier, linguist (25 languages!), writer, anthropologist, swordsman, explorer. Intelligence Officer

Amy Elizabeth Thorpe: Spy, babe. Femme Fatale

Thomas Edward Lawrence: “Lawrence of Arabia” scholar, soldier, gifted strategist, writer. Military Advisor

Isaac Asimov: Fantastically prolific and inventive writer of science fiction and just about everything else. Walking Encyclopedia

The team's mission is to enter the alternate worlds controlled by the Mongol Hordes, assess their strength's and capabilities, and above all steal or figure out the technology behind their crosstime gates. The scientific and technological emphasis influenced the choice of Feynman and Tesla, as well as Stephenson. Burton and Lawrence's experience in the middle and far east were thought to increase their chances, especially Burton's linguistic skills. All of the team speaks at least two languages. Thorpe was the most accomplished of the women spies who survived the war (the goverment couldn't freeze the brains when they were in the hands of the Nazis.) Bruce Lee was added to the team because, well, he's frickin' Bruce Lee. 'Nuff said.

The team is supported by two groups: 1) a team of extraordinarily geeky MIT grad students from a variety of disciplines. Their job is to bring the team up to snuff on modern technology and science. Of course, Tesla and Feynman will likely be teaching them within minutes. They will also equip the team with a variety of high tech gizmos that will undoubtedly come in handy. And 2) a team of highly trained SAS and Delta Force commandos who will refresh the weapons training of the team, and train them in the use of an array of lethal devices. (In addition, Stephenson's flight training will be brought up to date, and he will qualify on several types of modern aircraft.)

The team will spend some time getting familiar with each other, and bringing the older members up to date on current events. Burton and Lawrence will be the most out of date, but most of the others died no earlier than the sixties. Then, they will wait for a new gate to open - somewhere in central asia if the intelligence community's guesses are correct - and go through. The special forces group will provide covering fire, if necessary, on the way in but will not accompany the team into the parallel worlds.

[side note] I thought for a bit about superheroes and fictional characters, but superheroes don't interest me as much as they once did. So I decided to go with actual humans. Limiting the time frame and nationality made filling out the last couple slots rather difficult.

If I were going with fictional characters facing a random all-encompassing evil threat, I might choose:

• Aragorn
• Batman
• Jacob Demwa from Brin's Sundiver
• The Gunslinger
• Friday from Heinlein's book
• Kimball Kinnison from the Lensman series
• Obiwan Kenobi - and,
• A motie engineer (with birth control!!)

Thanks for blowing a day for me, Johno!

I see via Tuesday Morning Quarterback Gregg Easterbrook that the Policy Analysis Market is back on track, albeit without any (overt) government funding. Isn't the internet grand?

[Hossein Khomeini:] "Now we have had 25 years of a failed Islamic revolution in Iran, and the people do not want an Islamic regime anymore."

[Christopher Hitchens:] It's not strictly necessary to speak to Hossein Khomeini to appreciate the latter point: Every visitor to Iran confirms it, and a large majority of the Iranians themselves have voted for anti-theocratic candidates. The entrenched and reactionary regime can negate these results up to a certain point; the only question is how long can they do so? Young Khomeini is convinced that the coming upheaval will depend principally on those who once supported his grandfather and have now become disillusioned. I asked him what he would like to see happen, and his reply this time was very terse and did not require any Quranic scriptural authority or explication. The best outcome, he thought, would be a very swift and immediate American invasion of Iran.

It hurt me somewhat to have to tell him that there was scant chance of deliverance coming by this means. He took the news pretty stoically (and I hardly think I was telling him anything he did not know). But I was thinking, wow, this is what happens if you live long enough. You'll hear the ayatollah's grandson saying, not even "Send in the Marines" but "Bring in the 82nd Airborne." I think it was the matter-of-factness of the reply that impressed me the most: He spoke as if talking of the obvious and the uncontroversial.

That reminded me to ask him what he thought of the mullahs' nuclear program. He calmly said that there was no physical force that was stronger than his faith, and thus there was no need for any country to arm itself in this way. No serious or principled Shiite had any fear of his belief being destroyed by any kind of violence. It was not a matter for the state, and the state and religion (he reiterated) ought to be separated—for both their sakes.

From a Christopher Hitchens article in Slate. We live in strange days indeed.

Behold. Then go over there and read the comments. I expect your lists by Tuesday.

As many here know, I'm a longtime fan of "Buffy The Vampire Slayer," and have been involved in the online fandom of the show fairly heavily for about four and a half years now. One of the things that always interested me once I started interacting with Buffy fans online is that the fandom cuts across all ages and political affiliations, and that their perception of what made the show good was different in many ways. Since this is a forum where we also have a fairly wide representation of political viewpoints, I'd like to try an experiment, based on a meme I saw on Live Journal, and which I've tweaked a little bit for the purpose. It is loosely based on the plotline of the recent movie The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and involves the following scenario:

You have just been made aware that a villian of considerable power is involved in an enterprise that threatens the very existence of the Earth. You have been granted the power and authority by The Powers That Be (whoever they are) to retain the services of a force of extraordinary beings to face that threat and defeat it. The rules are as follows:

1) You may go anywhere in time or space, in real life or fiction, to find these beings. The only restriction is that beings considered to be actual "gods" or who are otherwise godlike in power and toughness (Galactus, Angels of God, etc) are not going to participate. Superheroes are OK, as are supervillians (but see below as to potential problems there).

2) You can use anywhere from six to eight beings as part of your force. Beings with multiple personalities count as one person, unless the personalities can simultaneously manifest in physical form.

3) With the exception of real life persons, only one being per reality (a fictional "universe" set on planet Earth is one reality) can be recruited. The exception to this would be a pair of beings who were more or less "joined at the hip" as a matter of course (Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, Batman and Robin, etc.). In such a case, you may select both, but they count as two picks.

4) You can choose any point in a being's existence to recruit them from, as long as they were alive at the time. However, his or her personality and memories will be as they were at that time (if you snatch King Fingolfin away during his fatal duel with Morgoth, he's going to be *really* mad at you, and not inclined to help). Furthermore, the being will have all of the weaknesses as well as the strengths that he or she had at that time, and any circumstantial vulnerabilities that they have will become part of your reality (if you recruit the Silver Age Superman who is strong enough to move planets, kryptonite is going to become as common as beach sand, and magic-using criminals will be setting up shop on every street corner). Any major enemies still alive at that point in their existence also exist, and might well show up in the adventure and be a hinderance to your mission.

5. Select at least one male and one female being (more of either are OK). Beings with no gender (or more than one gender) are OK, but not required.

6. If you select beings who have a natural reaction to each other (good, bad, or carnal), you're going to have to deal with it.

Supplementary Rules:

7. You can first obtain the services of a recruiter to help in locating and getting these people to work for you--the same rules apply as above for the limitations and possible drawbacks involved in selecting that recruiter.

8. Who would you think the villian is? What would the nature of the threat they posed be? Assume for these purposes that you are living in the world as it is today, that you are given this task on October 7th, 2003 at noon GMT, and that you have precisely one week to gather your team and brief them.

9. You have an unlimited budget for one single vehicle to transport the team (including capacity to carry smaller vehicles for short range travel), which may use any technology or other power that exists in any of the worlds from which you recruit your team--what is the vehicle, and what are its properties? Again, if there is a known counterforce to whatever you choose, it will exist and you should assume that the villian knows it does and how to use it.

I await your responses with interest (including whatever mockery comes to mind). ;-

Reuters has a mildly strange article on recent comments from Egyptian President Mubarek. That Mubarek would consider Arafat getting the boot a terrorist act is perhaps no surprise. I have to say, though, showing him the door is hardly the moral equivalent of this. The exact nature of the "grave consequences" Mubarak predicted for Israel if they went ahead and removed the Palestinian leader are unclear.

What I found odd was this bit:

Mubarak's comments came in the text of an interview published by the official Middle East News Agency (MENA) to mark the 30th anniversary of the 1973 October War, when Egypt and Syria launched a surprise assault to regain territories lost to Israel in the 1967 Middle East War.

Israel's security cabinet decided in principle last month to "remove" Arafat after declaring him responsible for Islamic militant attacks on Israelis.

What I thought was weird - is it me, or is the '73 Arab-Israeli war generally referred to as the Yom Kippur War? I've heard it referred to as the '73 War, the fourth Arab-Israeli War, but never as the October War. And why was MENA celebrating the thirtieth anniversary of a defeat that led to the peace accords?

The Ministry has reached a milestone! Through the tireless and, indeed, tiresome efforts of its lackies, the Ministry has, as of this date, reached its one thousandth post. Though it has often been arduous going, our unbending will and willingness to sacrifice others for the common good have seen us through. The Ministry would like to thank its loyal, nay, obsequious band of readers for their careful attention to our humble efforts. The Ministry also hurls obloquy, hate, and derision at all those who have failed to recognize the clear signs of greatness that we have deigned to reveal on these pages.

Been reading this blog lately. Lots of excellent material, like this:

Allah forgives you, infidels! Come! Come give Allah a big bear hug!

Many times since he started his glorious blog has Allah been inclined to set Evan Williams and his atrocious, devil-worshipping software on fire. But then he considers the profound joy this would bring to the kufr and he thinks better of it. The cardinal rule of radical Islam in action: Determine what it is that makes the Jew happy--e.g., education, equal treatment for women--then do the opposite. And yes, to anticipate your next question, Allah understands that by this logic Muslims should be wolfing down pork by the plateful. What can Allah tell you except that swine is the exception that proves the rule.

George Will's got an interesting column up.
 

Nature is telling us that those wacky scientists have developed a laser that can zap individual mitochondria inside a cell, leaving the rest of the cell unharmed. Using laser bursts .000000000000001 of a second long, they are able to destroy very small things indeed. Femtolasers! Sadly, they are little use in fighting off Martians.

The ever-useful space.com is reporting that the consensus among those who watch these things is that the Chinese will launch their first manned space mission sometime in the next couple weeks. The article is well worth the read, as it examines some of the political and strategic considerations that many be prompted by a successful Chinese mission.

Many observers feel that the space flight program is merely a cloak for Chinese military development. Others feel that the mission is a prestige building exercise designed to reinforce the legitimacy of the Communist goeverment. Personally, I think it is both.

China is in many respects like Columbus, Ohio. Columbus is a decent sized city in a populous state. But it is alway overshadowed by Cleveland and Cincinnati. When I lived in Columbus in the nineties, there was constant talk of becoming a "major league" city. Much of this centered around efforts to acquire by any means necessary a pro baseball or football team. Of course, lying halfway between the Reds and the Bengals on one side, and the Indians and Browns on the other made this unlikely in the extreme. So, they got a Hockey team. But there were other efforts as well - all aimed at putting Columbus "on the map." When the number of people inside the Columbus city limits surpassed for the first time the number in Cleveland, Columbus cried, "We're the biggest city in Ohio!" Of course this completely ignored the fact that the Cleveland metro population is four times larger, and also that Cleveland has been less, well, assiduous in annexing neighboring communities.

China is convinced that does not get the respect that it deserves. So, this space mission is in some sense like Columbus' NHL team. But unlike Columbus, the Chinese have been making a strenuous effort over the last decade plus to modernize their armed forces. This space mission has obvious relevance to that effort. That China feels the need to pursue both of these ideas could be taken to indicate that China envisions for itself a grander role on the world stage.

And just remember the last time somebody had that set of ideas.

The President and his staff are re-thinking how they manage the reconstruction efforts in Afghanistan and Iraq. Condi Rice will oversee the "Iraq Stabilization Group," which will be an interdepartmental force to get shit done in-country. Read the article for the details, but it appears that it's an effort to cut across the bureaucratic boundaries and work on managing, you know, the little details, like roads, schools, security, power, the Taliban, and all that. Hope this works.

From the article: "'The president knows his legacy, and maybe his re-election, depends on getting this right,' another administration official said. 'This is as close as anyone will come to acknowledging that it's not working.'"

Well, they don't have to acknowledge it, as long as they do something about it.

[moreover] Does anybody else think that Condoleeza Rice sits home at night, practicing her signature, "Vice President Condoleeza Rice"? I mean, I'm not saying that's her ambition, just that if there's one person in the Bush administration ideally situated to take over from Dick Cheney, it's her. And I think she'd be good at it. Besides, she's a hardcore Cleveland Browns fan, so she can't be all bad.

[moreover] Go Browns! Beating the Steelers for the FIRST time since coming back from the dead! In! Your! Face!, John Cole!!

Kevin Drum asks questions about Valerie Plame's husband, such as "what's his deal?" "Was he always anti-war?" "Was he qualified to go to Niger?"

Read. Doesn't sound like much of an unqualified lib'rul antiwar dove to me. At least not when he was in Niger. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Hmm.

In response to Johno's recent post:

I worked for several years for Citizen Action, an enviromental lobby group. Concern for the environment has always been something important for me, going back to the days when I was in the Boy Scouts and spent a considerable amount of time in actual nature as opposed to volvo station wagons with "Think globally act locally" bumperstickers.

CA and similar groups are the "sane" side of the environmental movement. While they eschew the violent or property damaging methods of Earth First and other wackos, their politics and beliefs are scarcely different.

My time at CA was a constant struggle - while I wanted to do something positive for the environment, do my part so to speak, the ideological fanaticism of the leadership and most of the other people working there was hard to deal with. At the time, I was significantly less conservative than I am today - and that experience was a major part of why I moved rightward.

At base, I cannot agree with people who think that technology is inherently evil, and that the world would be a better place if all but maybe a million environmentally conscious people were to depart it. Taken to its logical conclusions, the "sustainable development" ideology is a recipe for the death by starvation of billions.

Most environmentalists would of course stop short of advocating this path. But they are strangely tolerant of those who don't. The prejudices of the environmentalist and the antiglobalization crowd amount to a kind of condescension, where primitive peoples and nature are to be kept pristine, so that they may be properly appreciated by enlightened, blue-goretex-wearing ecotourists. Those primitive people are rarely consulted as to what their wishes actually are. (Usually, TV and a new wardrobe from a lot of the documentaries I've seen. Most people do not like poverty, even if it is a traditional lifestyle - that's why so many move to the cities.)

Technology could make things much better for the rest of the world, as could the economic liberty that makes advanced technology possible. A classic example is the golden rice, enriched with vitamin A that could prevent blindness in millions of children a year (it's all about the children, of course) even though it is an eevilll frankenfood. Kneejerk opposition to technological solutions, mystical environmental marxism, and constant doommongering are not a recipe for saving the whales, or anything else.

If we are going to preserve our natural wonders, and not go careening into self created disaster (at various times one or more of the following: new ice age, malthusian population collapse, utter depletion of natural resources, global warming, systemic collapse of the ecosystem, or just choking to death on pollution) we don't need more of the "woolly-headed crypto-Marxist claptrap that totally ignores reality in favor of impossible solutions."

Real solutions rely on an enlightened regard for self interest. If we refrain from screaming that the sky is falling, and point out that it is in everyone's best interest to avoid drowning in PCBs, we begin to make progress. (And using market based mechanisms for pollution control is a good start.) We are ever so much cleaner than we were even thirty years ago, and most new factories and what not are designed with environmental protection in mind. (The Cuyahoga River hasn't caught fire since before I was born! Go Cleveland!) In time, we'll have hydrogen cars, and maybe even clean fusion power (Cold Fusion Now!) or solar power satellites. The world will be cleaner, at least where sensible democratic people live.

But the worst polluters and environment rapers are totalitarian governments and poor nations. There is a clear connection between wealth and environmental awareness. People who have the luxury to think about a clean environment (rather than the next meal or whether they will be tortured by the local gestapo) will take steps to clean things up.

The trend is clear in the industrialized world - ever stricter standards and an increasingly park-like world outside the cities. We don't really need to worry much there. I don't think we are approaching ecological holocaust. We just need to calm down and stop firebombing apartment complexes and shouting "Free the Mink!"

Buckethead's cute li'l heartwarmer about cannibalistic mink (below) seemed funny on Friday, but it's Monday and my bile is up. This kind of crap does irreparable damage to the cause of actually reasonable environmental crusades by making us all seem bugfuck crazy.

You see, I am inherently inclined to view favorably the causes of nutball environmentalists. It's part of my bleeding-heart centrism. That's not to say that I endorse them, their means, or their crackpot theories, but I really, really agree that it's a good idea to, for example, reduce fossil fuel emissions worldwide, manage the clearing and cutting of forests, explore alternative fuel solutions, and work towards getting more people to accept a low-animal-product diet as a healthy and tasty alternative.

However, asspots like these here ruin the whole party. In fact, asspots like these are the whole damn party, if you write off (as I do) the birkenstock-and-black-sock "concerned liberal" crowd who write small checks to the WWF, ride in bicycle rallies, compost their trash, and live in small rural college towns. So many of the real environmentalists live on the Chesapeake or in upper Maine, wear gumboots, hunt, log, and trap, and actually see, and give a shit about the actual world we live in. But these guys never make it on the news, because they never blow things up.

When I was in college, the Monkey Wrench Gang and "ecofeminism" was all the rage. Somehow all that stuff just seemed to me to be... how do I put this...bullshit... and left me wary of far-left crusades like environmentalism, campus "free speech" crusades, antiglobalism, and Dennis Kucinich. So much of it is woolly-headed crypto-Marxist claptrap that totally ignores reality in favor of impossible solutions. And we've seen what good Marxism has done for the world.

You know, not to ramble or anything, but I guess this kind of well-meaning mink-slaughter is just the kind of thing you'd expect from a demographic who put Che's sexy mug on tee-shirts and angrily defend Stalin against those slanderers who think murder is a big deal -- "You don't get it! Those were mistakes! We'll get it right next time!" Leaving it unclear whether getting it right means that soon we'll all live in the Worker's Paradise, or soon we'll all be dead. Personally, I'm not sure which would be worse. 

So fuck them. Although shenanigans like this mink-slaughter are only a tragedy for a few mink and some farmers, plenty of environmentalists are more sinister. The San Diego arsonists, tree-spikers, and the rest of their radical ilk are petit terrorists, plain and simple, and they make it really fucking hard for the rest of us concerned citizens to be taken at all seriously. 

Behold the breathtaking idiocy of the soi disant animal rights movement.

This makes Jimmy at Welcome to Rantville want to "vomit." I think it's the system working like it's supposed to.

is how we say it in Ohio.

And via Blogcritics I see that the five major labels have agreed to provide health insurance to their entire artist rosters. Fucking finally.

Robert Prather of Insults Unpunished has an excellent post up about Clinton-hating and Bush-hating.

Word.