ACT's blog (run by the wonderful Allison Stuntz) has a post listing suggested songs for the Bush house parties. It seems George 'WMD' Bush is hosting parties in Ohio and around the country. The obvious allusions to Nero aside, this is a great post. It's a fun concept, too. What songs should they play?
Suggestions on the blog thus far: 1999, If This is It (Huey Lewis), Born to Run, etc.
I've suggested: My City Was Gone (Pretenders), Out of Gas (Modest Mouse), Oops I Did It Again (Spears).
Thursday, April 29, 2004
I could do that.
A week ago I went with my mom to the Columbus Museum of Art. Since Columbus really grew up in the past 30 years there was very little old money to spend on great works of art at the turn of the century, in the 50s or even in the late 60s. So the art collection at the museum is fairly weak. They've found a something of a niche focusing on George Bellows (a Columbus native). So that's nice. Good stuff, sort of transitional work late 1800s early 1900s, mainly city scenes.
Given that I wanted to see, Early christian art, Van Eyck-like stuff, Flemish art (breugel, etc) or modern sculpture--it was sorely lacking. But that's fine. It was nice to be out with my mom and she was thrilled about all the Buddist art. I on the other hand just cannot seem to like Buddist art. I want to, I really do. I recognize that it's well crafted-but I find it boring to a degree that words fail to capture. So of course they had a touring exhibition of Buddist art (160+ pieces). Yeah.
Finally we moved into the modern room (yep one room, a small one at that). On the floor was a cardboard box, painted blue with black lines silk screened on it. Knowing that I usually like modern art and "sculpture" (broadly defined) she asked "Why is that art?" "Why do you like that?" and the classic anti-modern art comment of "I COULD DO THAT." In the interest of full disclosure---I thought the piece was shit. I didn't like it. But I took up the challenge to defend its type. After a long and really pleasurable argument I settled into the notion that maybe the point of that kind of modern art is to challenge people to think "I COULD DO THAT." Maybe that's the goal. Breaking down the notion of art as something that exists outside the realm of everyday life, something that is beyond the capacity of the viewer (nearly by definition). Granted none of these are groundbreaking thoughts. Nor do I claim them as such. But it was nice to realize that maybe the best argument against "I COULD DO THAT" is 'right, you could. That's the point.' Further still, maybe for all its flaws the CMA succeeded. It created conversations and prompted people to consider the role of art, and the place of art in their lives. As the shitty blue box is to modern art (a crappy representation of the power of the genre/form but a conversation starter all the same, a departure point for intellectual discourse) so the CMA is to museums (ill kept, and sparse, but all the same capable of generating thought and insight and hopefully action).
Given that I wanted to see, Early christian art, Van Eyck-like stuff, Flemish art (breugel, etc) or modern sculpture--it was sorely lacking. But that's fine. It was nice to be out with my mom and she was thrilled about all the Buddist art. I on the other hand just cannot seem to like Buddist art. I want to, I really do. I recognize that it's well crafted-but I find it boring to a degree that words fail to capture. So of course they had a touring exhibition of Buddist art (160+ pieces). Yeah.
Finally we moved into the modern room (yep one room, a small one at that). On the floor was a cardboard box, painted blue with black lines silk screened on it. Knowing that I usually like modern art and "sculpture" (broadly defined) she asked "Why is that art?" "Why do you like that?" and the classic anti-modern art comment of "I COULD DO THAT." In the interest of full disclosure---I thought the piece was shit. I didn't like it. But I took up the challenge to defend its type. After a long and really pleasurable argument I settled into the notion that maybe the point of that kind of modern art is to challenge people to think "I COULD DO THAT." Maybe that's the goal. Breaking down the notion of art as something that exists outside the realm of everyday life, something that is beyond the capacity of the viewer (nearly by definition). Granted none of these are groundbreaking thoughts. Nor do I claim them as such. But it was nice to realize that maybe the best argument against "I COULD DO THAT" is 'right, you could. That's the point.' Further still, maybe for all its flaws the CMA succeeded. It created conversations and prompted people to consider the role of art, and the place of art in their lives. As the shitty blue box is to modern art (a crappy representation of the power of the genre/form but a conversation starter all the same, a departure point for intellectual discourse) so the CMA is to museums (ill kept, and sparse, but all the same capable of generating thought and insight and hopefully action).
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Source for political photos
In the article below, I linked to some photos taken by a friend: Terry Gydesen. They rank amongst the best political photographs I've seen. She took photos of the last 13 days of the Wellstone campaign, and the last few days in Iowa. Her work is in some ways the perfect encapsulation of two of my most formative adult moments. visit her site... http://terrygydesen.com.
(Enter the gallery, and then go to political photos to see pictures of Paul. There used to be some pictures with me in them, but those are gone.)
(Enter the gallery, and then go to political photos to see pictures of Paul. There used to be some pictures with me in them, but those are gone.)
Shut up!
Shut up! You self important, self-congratulating, theoretical liberal, pseudo analyst.
This guy James Ridgeway from the Village Voice pens a short but infuriating article on John Kerry. I
"Look for the Dem biggies, whoever they are these days, to sit down with the rich and arrogant presumptive nominee and try to persuade him to take a hike. Then they can return to business as usual—resurrecting John Edwards, who is still hanging around, or staging an open convention in Boston, or both."
He spends this short article on all the annoyances of politics (blame, expectations, guessing, and finally casual placed idiotic suggestions...sure Howard Dean will be the nominee).
Listen, John Kerry won the primary. He beat a better guy (maybe two). He and the media stopped Howard Dean. That's what happened. Much as I'd like to be writing about my long days preparing for the convention and talking about what jobs I would like in the new Dean administration--that's not the case.
There is a Buddist saying that you hate that which you fear you are. This guy reminds me of myself Junior year. Maybe that's why it bothers me so much. Moderately informed, and certain that whatever I thought was important. I was convinced that I was smarter than everyone, and that really believing in anything was clear evidence of the believers moronic tendencies. You know what, I was wrong. So, too is this tool (and not a useful tool like a wrench, he's like the garden weasel). I just know that these writers who have never done anything in politics except whine and pontificate can all SHUT UP!
Do some work, meet Phil James, feel the power of a well executed JJ plan, learn to love strangers, get all muddy at a Steak Fry, make about 1,506,700 phone calls, learn the stump speech, watch your candidate lose or die, hug your closest friends as they weep and then let's talk. Until then, you know not of what you speak. I always promised myself I'd never go to grad school until I'd lived politics. I never wanted to be some pointy headed liberal elitist who'd never felt the sickening excitement and the excruciating fatigue of 4am on election day. I never wanted to be an analyst--I wanted to be an actor. This guy is neither.
This guy James Ridgeway from the Village Voice pens a short but infuriating article on John Kerry. I
"Look for the Dem biggies, whoever they are these days, to sit down with the rich and arrogant presumptive nominee and try to persuade him to take a hike. Then they can return to business as usual—resurrecting John Edwards, who is still hanging around, or staging an open convention in Boston, or both."
He spends this short article on all the annoyances of politics (blame, expectations, guessing, and finally casual placed idiotic suggestions...sure Howard Dean will be the nominee).
Listen, John Kerry won the primary. He beat a better guy (maybe two). He and the media stopped Howard Dean. That's what happened. Much as I'd like to be writing about my long days preparing for the convention and talking about what jobs I would like in the new Dean administration--that's not the case.
There is a Buddist saying that you hate that which you fear you are. This guy reminds me of myself Junior year. Maybe that's why it bothers me so much. Moderately informed, and certain that whatever I thought was important. I was convinced that I was smarter than everyone, and that really believing in anything was clear evidence of the believers moronic tendencies. You know what, I was wrong. So, too is this tool (and not a useful tool like a wrench, he's like the garden weasel). I just know that these writers who have never done anything in politics except whine and pontificate can all SHUT UP!
Do some work, meet Phil James, feel the power of a well executed JJ plan, learn to love strangers, get all muddy at a Steak Fry, make about 1,506,700 phone calls, learn the stump speech, watch your candidate lose or die, hug your closest friends as they weep and then let's talk. Until then, you know not of what you speak. I always promised myself I'd never go to grad school until I'd lived politics. I never wanted to be some pointy headed liberal elitist who'd never felt the sickening excitement and the excruciating fatigue of 4am on election day. I never wanted to be an analyst--I wanted to be an actor. This guy is neither.
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
Today's Made Up German Word is...
enttaeuschtfreude= disappointed joy.
Joy from something good happening for another person, while simultaneously realizing that that good thing is personally quite disappointing. Learn it, I may be using it soon.
Make your own German term by using this tool
Joy from something good happening for another person, while simultaneously realizing that that good thing is personally quite disappointing. Learn it, I may be using it soon.
Make your own German term by using this tool
Extra Vaganza
When I was a senior in college I was walking into the dining hall and saw a giant chalking glaring up at me from the sidewalk. In boldly drawn letters it said "Extra Vaganza" It's unclear if the additional spacing was intentional or not. But I for one truly believe we could all use some extra vaganza from time to time.
I got bored today, and in an effort to force gmail to allow me to use it I created a second blog (figuring if I got offered access once with Where is My Mind, I'd get offered again and again with 2 blogs). Struggling to think of a pithy name for blog two, I settled on Extra-vaganza---a reference to the above anecdote. I don't think I'll be posting to the other blog, but I thought the story and its recurrence in my daily consciousness was funny, if not noteworthy.
So I have two blogs--maybe the second will be for my racier thoughts, the ribaldry that dares not surface on such a pristine and staid blog as this. Or maybe I will use it to talk smack about other people. Who knows.
I got bored today, and in an effort to force gmail to allow me to use it I created a second blog (figuring if I got offered access once with Where is My Mind, I'd get offered again and again with 2 blogs). Struggling to think of a pithy name for blog two, I settled on Extra-vaganza---a reference to the above anecdote. I don't think I'll be posting to the other blog, but I thought the story and its recurrence in my daily consciousness was funny, if not noteworthy.
So I have two blogs--maybe the second will be for my racier thoughts, the ribaldry that dares not surface on such a pristine and staid blog as this. Or maybe I will use it to talk smack about other people. Who knows.
Trickle Down Economics
If we didn't give the wealthy "their money back" how else could they afford 160,000 for a parking spot? The unasked question is, isn't this guy probably John Kerry's neighbor?
Sickening.
Sickening.
Monday, April 26, 2004
Blisters Build Character
Brian and I went to the batting cages. Each took 160 swings. Each developed some prize winning blisters. A nice, stinging reminder of athletic involvement. There is something achingly familiar about bruises, blisters, and sore muscles--feels good. Hit 6 out of 16 lefthanded in the VERY FAST. A few potential doubles and a nice shot up through the box. Right handed was better (dominant hand). One or two great shots. Lots of pulled foul balls. Long story short---it's great to be swinging a bat again.
Maybe tomorrow will be tennis. I haven't played that in forever. I wonder if I can still crank the serve up.
Fun link of the day: Iron Chef Drinking Game
Fun link II, and a question, if I buy this have I become every annoying po-mo glass wearing, indie rock concert going guy?
Maybe tomorrow will be tennis. I haven't played that in forever. I wonder if I can still crank the serve up.
Fun link of the day: Iron Chef Drinking Game
Fun link II, and a question, if I buy this have I become every annoying po-mo glass wearing, indie rock concert going guy?
I feel fellowship with Sportscenter addicts
I never really understood the appeal of SportsCenter to the usually out of shape, usually white suburban men of questionable athletic prowess. The thought process went something like this: doesn't watching sportscenter remind them of their inability to achieve even the most tame of these athletic endeavors.
But I've found myself watching a lot of Food Network. Specifically Iron Chef. Iron Chef is to cooking what SportsCenter is to sport. The fetishizing of feats of talent so absurd that you stare slack jawed. Now there is Iron Chef America. I used to watch the show (Japanese version) more for the kitsch value. No longer. Now, sadly I find myself trying guess to what use quail eggs will be put in the cuisine of Iron Chef Puck. I actually, turned to my dad and suggested that Mario Batali was likely to use some wine as part of a reduction. It's silly. And it's supposed to be. But now that Iron Chef is in English, the horrid joke about the bad translations is removed, leaving a really solid product.
The first battle (each show is a "battle" between an Iron Chef and a challenger, with the respective sides trying to invent new ways of preparing the special ingredient within their given specialty). The innagural battle of the American show was Iron Chef Bobby Flay vs. the master of the Japanese show Chef Saki (who is a French master, and amazing with garnishes...I've watched a lot of Iron Chef over the years). The ingredient was Trout. Live trout. They catch and kill the trout, and Sakay makes it into an ice cream (yep, trout ice cream). The ingredients are usually very exotic...so much so that in the 300 episodes of the Japanese show an estimated 8 million dollars worth of groceries were used. They don't have "bologna battle"
The commentator, and this makes a huge difference, is Alton Brown (of Good Eats, the wacky professor of the Food Network). He is brilliant and funny and can tell you the chemistry at play in the cooking.
So I've been fixated. Last night was the "egg battle." Quail, salmon, duck, ostrich, chicken, human? all kinds of eggs. Wolfgang Puck vs. Mashaharu Morimoto (he of Morimoto, the Japanese Rest. in Philly). Morimoto cracked (using, a hacksaw, no joke) an ostrich egg. It was about 12 times as large as a chicken egg. I saw Puck's sous chef pull molted sugar off a spoon to create a gossamer fine nest of sugar. I was glued. Unreal.
The result of all this: I can no more prepare a delicate lobster saltimbucca than they can hit a Pedro Martinez slider. But, there is something great about the knowing. Something great about knowing just how much they (performers) know.
I'm working on improving my cooking skills, but right now, I'm a much better at sitting on the 0-2 sinker away than preparing anything that could be called a compote without first heading directly into composte.
But I've found myself watching a lot of Food Network. Specifically Iron Chef. Iron Chef is to cooking what SportsCenter is to sport. The fetishizing of feats of talent so absurd that you stare slack jawed. Now there is Iron Chef America. I used to watch the show (Japanese version) more for the kitsch value. No longer. Now, sadly I find myself trying guess to what use quail eggs will be put in the cuisine of Iron Chef Puck. I actually, turned to my dad and suggested that Mario Batali was likely to use some wine as part of a reduction. It's silly. And it's supposed to be. But now that Iron Chef is in English, the horrid joke about the bad translations is removed, leaving a really solid product.
The first battle (each show is a "battle" between an Iron Chef and a challenger, with the respective sides trying to invent new ways of preparing the special ingredient within their given specialty). The innagural battle of the American show was Iron Chef Bobby Flay vs. the master of the Japanese show Chef Saki (who is a French master, and amazing with garnishes...I've watched a lot of Iron Chef over the years). The ingredient was Trout. Live trout. They catch and kill the trout, and Sakay makes it into an ice cream (yep, trout ice cream). The ingredients are usually very exotic...so much so that in the 300 episodes of the Japanese show an estimated 8 million dollars worth of groceries were used. They don't have "bologna battle"
The commentator, and this makes a huge difference, is Alton Brown (of Good Eats, the wacky professor of the Food Network). He is brilliant and funny and can tell you the chemistry at play in the cooking.
So I've been fixated. Last night was the "egg battle." Quail, salmon, duck, ostrich, chicken, human? all kinds of eggs. Wolfgang Puck vs. Mashaharu Morimoto (he of Morimoto, the Japanese Rest. in Philly). Morimoto cracked (using, a hacksaw, no joke) an ostrich egg. It was about 12 times as large as a chicken egg. I saw Puck's sous chef pull molted sugar off a spoon to create a gossamer fine nest of sugar. I was glued. Unreal.
The result of all this: I can no more prepare a delicate lobster saltimbucca than they can hit a Pedro Martinez slider. But, there is something great about the knowing. Something great about knowing just how much they (performers) know.
I'm working on improving my cooking skills, but right now, I'm a much better at sitting on the 0-2 sinker away than preparing anything that could be called a compote without first heading directly into composte.
Sunday, April 25, 2004
Well-stone Clan "ain't nothin' to fuck with" Part II
In response to my email (see below), I received this reply. It specifically addresses the question of whom he (Mat) would have rather seen follow Paul.
"Any relative of Wellstone."
My response:
"So you'd pick Mark or David. Do you know anything about Mark or anything about David? Don't you think that just picking a relative implies that leadership is some kind of genetic trait. Do you know what they each do for a living? Why would Mark and David be better at this job than say any of a number of other elected officials. For what it's worth I've met (briefly) both of them neither of them would have been able/prepared to take on that role. Just being related to Paul doesn't/didn't make you a great leader. His daughter died, his wife died--that only leaves two relatives...and I'm guessing you couldn't tell me which was is Mark and which is David---which suggests that maybe they aren't ready to run for Senate. Oh, just for what it's worth--they (the boys) picked Walter Mondale. That was their wish. They figured that was what their father would have wanted."
My initial response to his frustration with Mondale (and my being touchy): I guess I'll have to disagree again. I think that Mondale was a fine choice. He'd filled the role with distinction, he was not seen as an opportunist (ie, he wasn't capitalizing on Paul's death), he was wildly popular. He is brilliant. He's served honorably, and is dramatically to the left of nearly everyone else in the Senate. Whom would you have chosen?
"Any relative of Wellstone."
My response:
"So you'd pick Mark or David. Do you know anything about Mark or anything about David? Don't you think that just picking a relative implies that leadership is some kind of genetic trait. Do you know what they each do for a living? Why would Mark and David be better at this job than say any of a number of other elected officials. For what it's worth I've met (briefly) both of them neither of them would have been able/prepared to take on that role. Just being related to Paul doesn't/didn't make you a great leader. His daughter died, his wife died--that only leaves two relatives...and I'm guessing you couldn't tell me which was is Mark and which is David---which suggests that maybe they aren't ready to run for Senate. Oh, just for what it's worth--they (the boys) picked Walter Mondale. That was their wish. They figured that was what their father would have wanted."
My initial response to his frustration with Mondale (and my being touchy): I guess I'll have to disagree again. I think that Mondale was a fine choice. He'd filled the role with distinction, he was not seen as an opportunist (ie, he wasn't capitalizing on Paul's death), he was wildly popular. He is brilliant. He's served honorably, and is dramatically to the left of nearly everyone else in the Senate. Whom would you have chosen?
Well-stone Clan "ain't nothin' to fuck with."
So I just recently found out that Mat Witemyre, Dean Alumnus has a blog. Dutifully I posted it to the right (with all the other DFA alum blogs). Went over to his spot and started to read. Lots of political commentary, far more than I can churn out on this humble little effort. However...I also read his post about Walter Mondale. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I am also a Wellstone For Senate alum. I loved, honored, respected and admired Paul Wellstone. Walter Mondale stepped into the breach and fought his ass off for Paul and for each of us on the campaign. Mondale (though he did look a bit like a sea turtle) was generous, brilliant, passionate (as passionate as staid Norwegians get) and would have made an incredible Senator. This all makes Mat's post about Mondale a bit off message in my mind. General rule for me...don't fuck with Paul's memory, legacy or those of us on the campaign. I'm not an angry person. But do not call Walter Mondale a dick, or a cotchety jerk--he carried the flag for WFS. Show some damn respect. Just saying, Well-stone clan ain't nothing to fuck with.
In comparing John Kerry to Walter Mondale, Mat says the following: "In the interests of full disclosure, I was three at the time he was running for president. I didn't follow the election that closely. However, I did watch with much interest the way he singlehandedly destroyed any chance to salvage the horrible tragedy of Paul Wellstone's death in 2002. I've talked to a lot of people from Minnesota in my political organizing days so far. They've all said how great a guy Mondale is, and all the good things that he has done for progressive causes and the people of Minnesota. Yeah, but he was a giant dick in the debates against Norm Coleman. It was amazing how out of touch, and just plain mean he seemed after such a tragedy. If he had simply said that he was committed to continuing Paul Wellstone's legacy, and that he didn't want to make this a partisan election, he would have cleaned house. Al Franken is right though, a lot of the problem was caused by the media portrayal of the Wellstone memorial and the spin from Republicans. But, you can't ignore the fact that Mondale was simply an unlikeable, crotchety old jerk..
I said it before, and here it is again: Well-stone clan "ain't nothin' to fuck with" (with apologies to RZA).
So I wrote to Mat (again, this is all civil, because I love DFAers like I love WFS)
"Mondale would not have won by simply "carrying on the legacy." In fact our polling suggested otherwise. Did you watch Norm Coleman's commercials, read his speeches, take phone calls? If so you might have heard that his (NC's) approach was to weep for paul and say that he'd earned the right to this race. He wasn't coming in at the last second. And the media was beginning to question if WM was too old. Being feisty and vibrant was key to undercutting that notion. I take it your post dated April 1st, was simply an April Fools Joke....right?"
Mat's response: "Good to hear from you. So, other than the Mondale stuff, what do you think? I'm not going to say anything else about Mondale, you Minnesotans get way to touchy. I did see NC doing that stuff, Mondale was just a bad choice in general. The only thing I saw him in was the debate. So, that's all I'm going by. Anyways, good to hear from you."
A fair response. I don't know that I'm "to (sic) touchy." Though I do like being thought of as a Minnesotan (the plan is working). I guess I just feel like Mondale was a good choice. He'd filled the role with distinction, he was not seen as an opportunist (ie, he wasn't capitalizing on Paul's death), he was wildly popular. He is brilliant. He's served honorably, and is dramatically to the left of nearly everyone else in the Senate...Oh and just for all the anti-Mondale folks out there, here's a story from 1990. In 1990 Paul Wellstone bucked years of Senate tradition by having Walter Mondale walk him down the aisle and "present" him to the US Senate. Usually this role was filled by the Senior Senator (Grams) in the state. Paul didn't like the Senior senator, and the man he thought best typified and exemplified the role of Minnesota Senator was Walter Mondale. So, if Mondale was good enough for Paul, he was damn sure good enough for me.
In comparing John Kerry to Walter Mondale, Mat says the following: "In the interests of full disclosure, I was three at the time he was running for president. I didn't follow the election that closely. However, I did watch with much interest the way he singlehandedly destroyed any chance to salvage the horrible tragedy of Paul Wellstone's death in 2002. I've talked to a lot of people from Minnesota in my political organizing days so far. They've all said how great a guy Mondale is, and all the good things that he has done for progressive causes and the people of Minnesota. Yeah, but he was a giant dick in the debates against Norm Coleman. It was amazing how out of touch, and just plain mean he seemed after such a tragedy. If he had simply said that he was committed to continuing Paul Wellstone's legacy, and that he didn't want to make this a partisan election, he would have cleaned house. Al Franken is right though, a lot of the problem was caused by the media portrayal of the Wellstone memorial and the spin from Republicans. But, you can't ignore the fact that Mondale was simply an unlikeable, crotchety old jerk..
I said it before, and here it is again: Well-stone clan "ain't nothin' to fuck with" (with apologies to RZA).
So I wrote to Mat (again, this is all civil, because I love DFAers like I love WFS)
"Mondale would not have won by simply "carrying on the legacy." In fact our polling suggested otherwise. Did you watch Norm Coleman's commercials, read his speeches, take phone calls? If so you might have heard that his (NC's) approach was to weep for paul and say that he'd earned the right to this race. He wasn't coming in at the last second. And the media was beginning to question if WM was too old. Being feisty and vibrant was key to undercutting that notion. I take it your post dated April 1st, was simply an April Fools Joke....right?"
Mat's response: "Good to hear from you. So, other than the Mondale stuff, what do you think? I'm not going to say anything else about Mondale, you Minnesotans get way to touchy. I did see NC doing that stuff, Mondale was just a bad choice in general. The only thing I saw him in was the debate. So, that's all I'm going by. Anyways, good to hear from you."
A fair response. I don't know that I'm "to (sic) touchy." Though I do like being thought of as a Minnesotan (the plan is working). I guess I just feel like Mondale was a good choice. He'd filled the role with distinction, he was not seen as an opportunist (ie, he wasn't capitalizing on Paul's death), he was wildly popular. He is brilliant. He's served honorably, and is dramatically to the left of nearly everyone else in the Senate...Oh and just for all the anti-Mondale folks out there, here's a story from 1990. In 1990 Paul Wellstone bucked years of Senate tradition by having Walter Mondale walk him down the aisle and "present" him to the US Senate. Usually this role was filled by the Senior Senator (Grams) in the state. Paul didn't like the Senior senator, and the man he thought best typified and exemplified the role of Minnesota Senator was Walter Mondale. So, if Mondale was good enough for Paul, he was damn sure good enough for me.
But I digress...and regress
I realize that this blog has become somewhat disjointed and has the effect of replicating a conversation walked into at strange moments. Frankly that accurately represents where I am right now. My thoughts lack the normall through-line...
Went with Brian and Jeff to play miniature golf last night. I used to play a lot of mini-golf/putt putt. I used to be fairly good (or at least shoot par). I admit this not out of pride, but as more of a confession. Yes, I'm competitive about this as well. We played on my "home course" I shot a 43 (2 over par, though on came on the final hole, one of these put it into the ball return and we'll assign you a score....I "bogeyed" the hole).
Then went to the nearby batting cages. Medium. Fucking slow as hell. Couldn't seem to keep my weight on the back foot, pulled some shots almost into the cage next to me. Popped up a few. Generally it was great to feel that solid contact again. I'm thinking of going back to the cages today. Work on my switch hitting.
After that we returned to Brian's house and watched the South Park movie. I realized, only this morning, that I'd reverted wholly and completely to high school. Miniature golf, south park movie, in bed by 11:30. I was my 17 year old self all over.
Usually I'd write about how that sickens me, etc., but frankly there was something reassuring about it. Something more pleasant about it than I'd want to admit. I think I'll go drop 5 or 6 bucks on the cages later today. Work on getting some killer blisters on my hands, and see if I can remember how to drive the ball.
Went with Brian and Jeff to play miniature golf last night. I used to play a lot of mini-golf/putt putt. I used to be fairly good (or at least shoot par). I admit this not out of pride, but as more of a confession. Yes, I'm competitive about this as well. We played on my "home course" I shot a 43 (2 over par, though on came on the final hole, one of these put it into the ball return and we'll assign you a score....I "bogeyed" the hole).
Then went to the nearby batting cages. Medium. Fucking slow as hell. Couldn't seem to keep my weight on the back foot, pulled some shots almost into the cage next to me. Popped up a few. Generally it was great to feel that solid contact again. I'm thinking of going back to the cages today. Work on my switch hitting.
After that we returned to Brian's house and watched the South Park movie. I realized, only this morning, that I'd reverted wholly and completely to high school. Miniature golf, south park movie, in bed by 11:30. I was my 17 year old self all over.
Usually I'd write about how that sickens me, etc., but frankly there was something reassuring about it. Something more pleasant about it than I'd want to admit. I think I'll go drop 5 or 6 bucks on the cages later today. Work on getting some killer blisters on my hands, and see if I can remember how to drive the ball.
Saturday, April 24, 2004
Magritte
So about 3 weeks ago when I saw "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" I remarked that I thought much of the design was taken from Magritte. It was a tossed aside comment, something to sound smart. ( I knew of about 5 of his paitings, not much considering his scope)
Flash forward to a week ago, I've just finished my interview with SEIU (went well) and am waiting to meet Beth for a drink. I have an hour to kill so I wander into the Barnes and Noble Art Books section. I sit down and go through the Magritte book. I fall in love. It's fucking fantastic. His work is so crisp and clean. There is something brave and remarkably honest about it all.
a link to lots of his paintings: I recommend: The Lovers, The Rape, The Discovery of Fire, Attempting the Impossible, and possibly my favorite The Human Condition.
Friday, April 23, 2004
Don't forget Afghanistan
A reminder that we still have troops fighting and dying in Afghanistan: Former Arizona Cardinals safety Pat Tillman was recently killed.
It's amazing to think that during WWII hundreds of athletes joined the service, they recognized that their trivial day jobs were just that. Just a strange realization of how much more just that war seemed, and how much more revered athletes of today have become. The idea of an athlete leaving his career to serve his country is astonishing, now.
I thought there might be a point lingering in this...guess not. Sort of like a sneeze that never comes, I thought I might have some insight--nope.
It's amazing to think that during WWII hundreds of athletes joined the service, they recognized that their trivial day jobs were just that. Just a strange realization of how much more just that war seemed, and how much more revered athletes of today have become. The idea of an athlete leaving his career to serve his country is astonishing, now.
I thought there might be a point lingering in this...guess not. Sort of like a sneeze that never comes, I thought I might have some insight--nope.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Fedora Found
Got one. $15. Brown corduroy with a feather. It has more panache than I do, but so does unsalted butter.
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Suffer Fools and Find a Fedora
Since yesterday:
I went with Brian and associated friends (mainly his, though a few shared, and some that felt as though they were on loan to me) for his birthday dinner. Sub par food, good beer--a wash. My conversation partner for much of the dinner was a woman who managed to grate on my nerves in a profound way. A little background is in order ~6 years ago as I was about ready to go off to Oberlin for round 2, I went with Brian and Mandy Comstock (a friend of his, an aquaintance of mine) to Tee Jay's (a sad version of the Waffle House). It was Mandy's last day in Columbus before trekking out to McGill in Montreal. Needless to say she was a bit tender, leaving all her friends about to move out of the country etc. To all of this information I was oblivious. We began chatting, we began arguing, and I smelled blood. It was bad. She was arguing for some ill-conceived notion of socialist utopia, etc. I just laid into her (immature, I know). So we fought and fought and we're both more than just a bit bullheaded. It ended with neither of us happy, and Brian understandably disappointed in me.
So last night was the first time that Mandy and I were together since then. She has long since forgot about the event...literally. Brian reminded her, and I had to retell the story for her to even pretend to remember it. So that's a good sign.
Last night I am seated across from Mandy (pleasant conversation throughout) and next to MM. MM is currently a paralegal at a law firm that forecloses and reposesses on homes. She is cheery and bouyant because she seems to not know enough to know better. This is not a good pairing. We should not be conversation partners. Brian mentions that he's moving to Wisconsin. She says with genuine and complete disdain, "Why would anyone ever want to live there. It's in the middle of nowhere." I snap my head towards her and ask, "where do you live? Ohio??" She responds, but "what's even in Wisconsin?" Madison, progressives, Milwaukee, Russ Feingold. "Oooohhhhh."
Later she trys to explain how bad it must be to live in Minnesota. "I mean, geez, it's just so cold. And, come on, no one wants to live there. I HAVE to live in a city, so I couldn't live there. Can you imagine?!" I respond, that I, in fact, lived in Minnesota and loved it. I valued the progressive sense of community, its belief in shared values, and that it was a place that sought to embrace quality of life issues--oh and funded arts and non-profits at a staggeringly high level. "I lived in Boston, I think of myself as more of a coast person."
The evening progressed like this. She voted for Nader, but "don't worry it didn't count, I voted absentee." Me: Why do you think your vote didn't count?
Her: I said, I voted absentee. I don't believe that they count those.
Her: "You have to admit Howard Dean was just so angry, all my friends in Boston said so. I mean, come on, it's not like he was electable. No I never saw him speak, but I heard stories about him." "Electable. You have to appeal to the masses. (she;s a politics major and is now lecturing me, doesn't know that I'm the same). See, about 30% of people are Democrats and 30% are Republicans, so the other 40% are in the middle. Democrats have to appeal to those 40%"
I responded with my own statistics, citing a more realistic break down that about 8-10% of the public are swing voters and that tailoring a message to those voters was fool hardy. She said that I was wrong. "It JUST CAN'T BE LIKE THAT. That's not true"
So we can safely say that I was not enjoying this conversation. On the plus side she wants to go into human rights law. I for one think that those suffering from torture and oppression deserve representation from someone confused by everything...that'll make it better. Needless to say, we are not planning on chatting under other non-essential circumstances.
Today: Today I went on two distinctly different missions.
1) I went to the public library to find books for my mom. She's writing papers for seminary on the transition in American religion from Fundamentalism (in the late 1930s) to Modernism (refutation of the inerrancy of the Bible), and a paper on the early roots of Transcendentalism. I strike out big time. Number of books on Transcendentalism at the Westerville Public Library= 0 (you can however get one e-book). 0. Fucking unreal.
2). The other mission was to find myself a fedora. Went to antique stores, vintage shops--nothing. Found an irish short brimmed thing. Nice. Not a fedora. Cary Grant, Harry Truman--you know a fucking fedora. Nothing. Very disappointed. It may be all for the best, I'm still not sure if I have the panache to pull off a fedora. JKD (oh, fashion guru) your thoughts? Others...should a lanky, fashion-timid guy invest in a hat that could have belonged to some guy who "knew" Katherine Hepburn.
I went with Brian and associated friends (mainly his, though a few shared, and some that felt as though they were on loan to me) for his birthday dinner. Sub par food, good beer--a wash. My conversation partner for much of the dinner was a woman who managed to grate on my nerves in a profound way. A little background is in order ~6 years ago as I was about ready to go off to Oberlin for round 2, I went with Brian and Mandy Comstock (a friend of his, an aquaintance of mine) to Tee Jay's (a sad version of the Waffle House). It was Mandy's last day in Columbus before trekking out to McGill in Montreal. Needless to say she was a bit tender, leaving all her friends about to move out of the country etc. To all of this information I was oblivious. We began chatting, we began arguing, and I smelled blood. It was bad. She was arguing for some ill-conceived notion of socialist utopia, etc. I just laid into her (immature, I know). So we fought and fought and we're both more than just a bit bullheaded. It ended with neither of us happy, and Brian understandably disappointed in me.
So last night was the first time that Mandy and I were together since then. She has long since forgot about the event...literally. Brian reminded her, and I had to retell the story for her to even pretend to remember it. So that's a good sign.
Last night I am seated across from Mandy (pleasant conversation throughout) and next to MM. MM is currently a paralegal at a law firm that forecloses and reposesses on homes. She is cheery and bouyant because she seems to not know enough to know better. This is not a good pairing. We should not be conversation partners. Brian mentions that he's moving to Wisconsin. She says with genuine and complete disdain, "Why would anyone ever want to live there. It's in the middle of nowhere." I snap my head towards her and ask, "where do you live? Ohio??" She responds, but "what's even in Wisconsin?" Madison, progressives, Milwaukee, Russ Feingold. "Oooohhhhh."
Later she trys to explain how bad it must be to live in Minnesota. "I mean, geez, it's just so cold. And, come on, no one wants to live there. I HAVE to live in a city, so I couldn't live there. Can you imagine?!" I respond, that I, in fact, lived in Minnesota and loved it. I valued the progressive sense of community, its belief in shared values, and that it was a place that sought to embrace quality of life issues--oh and funded arts and non-profits at a staggeringly high level. "I lived in Boston, I think of myself as more of a coast person."
The evening progressed like this. She voted for Nader, but "don't worry it didn't count, I voted absentee." Me: Why do you think your vote didn't count?
Her: I said, I voted absentee. I don't believe that they count those.
Her: "You have to admit Howard Dean was just so angry, all my friends in Boston said so. I mean, come on, it's not like he was electable. No I never saw him speak, but I heard stories about him." "Electable. You have to appeal to the masses. (she;s a politics major and is now lecturing me, doesn't know that I'm the same). See, about 30% of people are Democrats and 30% are Republicans, so the other 40% are in the middle. Democrats have to appeal to those 40%"
I responded with my own statistics, citing a more realistic break down that about 8-10% of the public are swing voters and that tailoring a message to those voters was fool hardy. She said that I was wrong. "It JUST CAN'T BE LIKE THAT. That's not true"
So we can safely say that I was not enjoying this conversation. On the plus side she wants to go into human rights law. I for one think that those suffering from torture and oppression deserve representation from someone confused by everything...that'll make it better. Needless to say, we are not planning on chatting under other non-essential circumstances.
Today: Today I went on two distinctly different missions.
1) I went to the public library to find books for my mom. She's writing papers for seminary on the transition in American religion from Fundamentalism (in the late 1930s) to Modernism (refutation of the inerrancy of the Bible), and a paper on the early roots of Transcendentalism. I strike out big time. Number of books on Transcendentalism at the Westerville Public Library= 0 (you can however get one e-book). 0. Fucking unreal.
2). The other mission was to find myself a fedora. Went to antique stores, vintage shops--nothing. Found an irish short brimmed thing. Nice. Not a fedora. Cary Grant, Harry Truman--you know a fucking fedora. Nothing. Very disappointed. It may be all for the best, I'm still not sure if I have the panache to pull off a fedora. JKD (oh, fashion guru) your thoughts? Others...should a lanky, fashion-timid guy invest in a hat that could have belonged to some guy who "knew" Katherine Hepburn.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Next Swing Voter Craze
Just picked up The Office: Season II. Man, being unemployed rocks! There is something dreadfully pathetic and moderately amusing about the line of men (always men) that assembles outside a Best Buy in the morning. I've been in that line a few times.
It's 9:57am and dreary. And arrayed just outside the gated doors of the local Best Buy are computer dorks, movie nerds, and music geeks...and me (the early rising, bored guy).
There is a line, an honest to God line, to get into Best Buy first. I try to guess what everyone is searching for. To no avail. I'm in the checkout line a mere 45 seconds after 10:00 (and am second). First inline is a mid 20s guy buying Master and Commander. Never saw it, cannot say if it warrants the fervor. Then it's me, getting BBC's "The Office" (a combo pack, 'victory is mine!'), as well as a gift for Brian Fusco (whose birthday it is).. Behind me is a boy with a book that ennumerates the many codes, tricks, hidden stages and whatnot of Final Fantasy 43 (or whatever number they're on now).
Some day, hopefully soon, these arrayed AV geeks, and mid quality movie afficionados, and the chronically bored will form a distinct voting bloc. Let's see, we were all white, early 20s to late 40s. One guy had a daughter that he was literally dragging into the store. I'm going to say (completely guessing here) that I was the only Democrat. So yeah, young men, with disposable income, childish hobbies, and nothing to do at 10:00am on a Tuesday---yup sounds like this could be the next swing voter. Best Buy dorks. Or Video game cousins. Dare to dream. I wonder what other semi-cohesive groups deserve to be considered "swing" voters.
It's 9:57am and dreary. And arrayed just outside the gated doors of the local Best Buy are computer dorks, movie nerds, and music geeks...and me (the early rising, bored guy).
There is a line, an honest to God line, to get into Best Buy first. I try to guess what everyone is searching for. To no avail. I'm in the checkout line a mere 45 seconds after 10:00 (and am second). First inline is a mid 20s guy buying Master and Commander. Never saw it, cannot say if it warrants the fervor. Then it's me, getting BBC's "The Office" (a combo pack, 'victory is mine!'), as well as a gift for Brian Fusco (whose birthday it is).. Behind me is a boy with a book that ennumerates the many codes, tricks, hidden stages and whatnot of Final Fantasy 43 (or whatever number they're on now).
Some day, hopefully soon, these arrayed AV geeks, and mid quality movie afficionados, and the chronically bored will form a distinct voting bloc. Let's see, we were all white, early 20s to late 40s. One guy had a daughter that he was literally dragging into the store. I'm going to say (completely guessing here) that I was the only Democrat. So yeah, young men, with disposable income, childish hobbies, and nothing to do at 10:00am on a Tuesday---yup sounds like this could be the next swing voter. Best Buy dorks. Or Video game cousins. Dare to dream. I wonder what other semi-cohesive groups deserve to be considered "swing" voters.
The Danton Thing
So I was reading JKD's blog, which is becoming great (FYI) and I read about Mike Danton. Danton allegedly called a 19-year old female friend (across state lines--important for prosecution) to arrange for a $10,000 hit on an unnamed man. All reports, I've read, indicate that the man was Danton's same sex roomate. Further, all implications are that the men were lovers. Previously (last year) Danton changed his name from Mike Jefferson. By all accounts this is a man in a lot of mental anguish and quite possibly not in the most open of environments.
JKD deftly addresses the repurcussions for the general GLBT population with yet another story linking homosexuality to "weird", "dangerous" or "immoral" behavior. It's getting to the point where GLBT organizations are going start issuing denuciations as organizations within black community have been--essentially having to apologize for public missteps. Just once I'd love to see the Klan (the only "white" advocacy group) publicly apologize for Bush or Kozlosky, or Manson or any other "bad apples."
But in this case the first release I found is hardly that. A joint press release from IGHLIHA (The International Gay and Lesbian Ice Hockey Association) and GLSEN (Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network) calls for a full investigation of the alleged crime, but spends most of its energy and fire blasting the NHL and hockey culture. What the Danton case (and again it's really early) seems to suggest is that, guess what gay athletes make horrifically bad decisions just like their straight counterparts.
Sadly, it seems that many, professional athletes are generally immature, insulated, and offered the opportunity to avoid the general tedium of normal healthy social interaction. The way that prominent GLBT organizations handle this case will be interesting...don't forget gay marriage is still looming out there as a large issue.
JKD deftly addresses the repurcussions for the general GLBT population with yet another story linking homosexuality to "weird", "dangerous" or "immoral" behavior. It's getting to the point where GLBT organizations are going start issuing denuciations as organizations within black community have been--essentially having to apologize for public missteps. Just once I'd love to see the Klan (the only "white" advocacy group) publicly apologize for Bush or Kozlosky, or Manson or any other "bad apples."
But in this case the first release I found is hardly that. A joint press release from IGHLIHA (The International Gay and Lesbian Ice Hockey Association) and GLSEN (Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network) calls for a full investigation of the alleged crime, but spends most of its energy and fire blasting the NHL and hockey culture. What the Danton case (and again it's really early) seems to suggest is that, guess what gay athletes make horrifically bad decisions just like their straight counterparts.
Sadly, it seems that many, professional athletes are generally immature, insulated, and offered the opportunity to avoid the general tedium of normal healthy social interaction. The way that prominent GLBT organizations handle this case will be interesting...don't forget gay marriage is still looming out there as a large issue.
Friday, April 16, 2004
Empire of the Arrogant
" `First, we are going to win,' Abizaid said, seated at a table in a marbled palace hall. ... `Secondly, everyone needs to understand that there is no more powerful force assembled on Earth than this military force in this country ....' " (Cleveland Plain Dealer, analyzed and posted on Kos
Yes, liberators indeed. The added description about the marbled palace hall is a nice touch.
Yes, liberators indeed. The added description about the marbled palace hall is a nice touch.
Thursday, April 15, 2004
Holy Shit
I knew a guy when I worked at Office Max whose brother-in-law had what I then thought might be the coolest little-boy-grown-up job in the world. He tested weapons for the Army. He went into the Nevada desert and would test (on cardboard targets) rifles, machine guns, anti-tank weaponry, shoulder launched missiles, etc. Basically he got to use all the crazy shit we buy from other countries and test it. Seemed pretty cool when I was 17.
Here is basically the same thing, but on video. It's a strange mix of "wow, that's pretty cool" with "holy shit, this is designed to kill people, this shouldn't be funny, or cool in the least." So I'm torn, it looks impressive but then you realize it has only one true function, and it's not entertainment---it's destruction. The video of a bullet, a winchester 300 ripping through a potroast is awesome in the true sense of the word--I am left in AWE of the power of this weapon. But it's still kind of sickening.
Some of the accompanying text with the video tries to couch the use in humorus tones:
"When firing the 76mm High Impulse Weapon System, remember to keep your weight on your FRONT foot." Shows a man firing a gun the size of a bridge abuttment.
So I don't know what to make of it. gut reaction is whoa, I wish I could do that, but that seems pretty divorced from the object's true use.
Nate M had the link that set off this strange little journey. He has a blog too. It's well written. Yeah writing.
Here is basically the same thing, but on video. It's a strange mix of "wow, that's pretty cool" with "holy shit, this is designed to kill people, this shouldn't be funny, or cool in the least." So I'm torn, it looks impressive but then you realize it has only one true function, and it's not entertainment---it's destruction. The video of a bullet, a winchester 300 ripping through a potroast is awesome in the true sense of the word--I am left in AWE of the power of this weapon. But it's still kind of sickening.
Some of the accompanying text with the video tries to couch the use in humorus tones:
"When firing the 76mm High Impulse Weapon System, remember to keep your weight on your FRONT foot." Shows a man firing a gun the size of a bridge abuttment.
So I don't know what to make of it. gut reaction is whoa, I wish I could do that, but that seems pretty divorced from the object's true use.
Nate M had the link that set off this strange little journey. He has a blog too. It's well written. Yeah writing.
Tuesday, April 13, 2004
I like feta
I have eaten crumbled feta from the carton. Does this make me a bad person? Emily seems to think my mortal soul is not inherently in jeopardy because of this...
Hmm..
Hmm..
Important stories buried by the press conference tonight
US forces to withdraw (in part) from DMZ
That might count as news.
How about the fact that the Bushes paid over 225K in taxes (though JFK cannot claim to be a prole either) on an estimated 822K in shared assets. But even stranger--the Cheney's have 1.3 million in gross income but only paid 253K. They paid ~26,000 more despite having 477,000 more in income...strange. Now I honestly admit that I don't understand the tax code, not even a little bit. So maybe that's exactly how things should work, but it sure seems strange that Cheney was taxed 5% on those last 477,000 dollars.
That might count as news.
How about the fact that the Bushes paid over 225K in taxes (though JFK cannot claim to be a prole either) on an estimated 822K in shared assets. But even stranger--the Cheney's have 1.3 million in gross income but only paid 253K. They paid ~26,000 more despite having 477,000 more in income...strange. Now I honestly admit that I don't understand the tax code, not even a little bit. So maybe that's exactly how things should work, but it sure seems strange that Cheney was taxed 5% on those last 477,000 dollars.
The Presidential Press Conference is Just like Purim --Drink Till You Can't Tell the Difference Between Bush and an Honest Man
In the spirit of encouraging excessive alcohol consumption below are the rules I propose for this evening's Presidential Press Conference. Given the frequency of drinking I suggest beer. But if you really hate yourself or Bush try George Dickel (I'm looking at you Mr. Kramer-Duffield).
1 Shot:
a) Any reference to heroic positive adjective preceeding soldiers/troops (as in We pray for our brave fighting men and women.
b) Any reference to looking forward to speaking before the 9-11 Commission
c) Any reference to Fallujah
d) Any reference to the "transfer of power" (plus 3 shots if he tells you who we're turning power over to)
e) Any time Bush mentions PDB
f) Any reference to "not having information regarding specific al Qaeda threats."
g) Any reference to sympathy for the families of the soldiers lost in the past week
h) Any time God is mentioned
i) Any assertion that America is safer now that Saddam is captured
j) Any implication that Iraqi resistance represents a "small group of individuals"
k) Any smirking (real or perceived)
2 shots
a) Any mention of his vacation which started on August 7th (after the PDB of note)
b) If Bush passes the buck onto either CIA or FBI
c) If the Fox News reporter doesn't get to ask a question
d) If the NPR reporter does
e) If anyone is categorized as "hating freedom"
3 shots
a) If there is any mention of Costa Ricans, miserable failures, two Americas, or the Real Deal
b) If Bush apologizes for any actions
11 shots
a) Any mention of Jo-Mentum
1 Shot:
a) Any reference to heroic positive adjective preceeding soldiers/troops (as in We pray for our brave fighting men and women.
b) Any reference to looking forward to speaking before the 9-11 Commission
c) Any reference to Fallujah
d) Any reference to the "transfer of power" (plus 3 shots if he tells you who we're turning power over to)
e) Any time Bush mentions PDB
f) Any reference to "not having information regarding specific al Qaeda threats."
g) Any reference to sympathy for the families of the soldiers lost in the past week
h) Any time God is mentioned
i) Any assertion that America is safer now that Saddam is captured
j) Any implication that Iraqi resistance represents a "small group of individuals"
k) Any smirking (real or perceived)
2 shots
a) Any mention of his vacation which started on August 7th (after the PDB of note)
b) If Bush passes the buck onto either CIA or FBI
c) If the Fox News reporter doesn't get to ask a question
d) If the NPR reporter does
e) If anyone is categorized as "hating freedom"
3 shots
a) If there is any mention of Costa Ricans, miserable failures, two Americas, or the Real Deal
b) If Bush apologizes for any actions
11 shots
a) Any mention of Jo-Mentum
Blog Crash
I just spent the last hour rebuilding my blog...it crashed and went away. Fucking 'eh. Oh well. I guess it's free. So I have to find time later to redo the comments. Doesn't take long, but I have to pack for DC.
Oh yeah, I'm heading to DC for a job interview with SEIU*. Should be fun. Plus I'll get to play frisbee with JKD which should be good. Haven't played with JKD since I was in college. It'll be nice to have another Obie on the field.
*I assume if you're reading this you know the ackronym for SEIU. And if you're like Dan Craig (aka Harvard) you'd inform us all that SEIU is not, in fact, an ackronym because it is unpronounced. This has been your pedantic over thought moment of the day.
Oh yeah, I'm heading to DC for a job interview with SEIU*. Should be fun. Plus I'll get to play frisbee with JKD which should be good. Haven't played with JKD since I was in college. It'll be nice to have another Obie on the field.
*I assume if you're reading this you know the ackronym for SEIU. And if you're like Dan Craig (aka Harvard) you'd inform us all that SEIU is not, in fact, an ackronym because it is unpronounced. This has been your pedantic over thought moment of the day.
Sunday, April 11, 2004
Confluence
I sort of stumbled across the Degree Confluence Project. "The goal of the project is to visit each of the latitude and longitude integer degree intersections in the world, and to take pictures at each location. " So there are photos from around the world (places beautiful, places mundane) of these points of confluence. The point nearest to me (nearest to 40:07:38N, 82:54:00W) is 40N 83W which is in in the kitchen of an OSU off campus house. . If I had a GPS this would be a great way to waste a weekend.
I found my longitude and latitude by using Multi Map , which gave me my exact (to within 100 meters) location. It's a pretty great tool as well.
I found my longitude and latitude by using Multi Map , which gave me my exact (to within 100 meters) location. It's a pretty great tool as well.
Saturday, April 10, 2004
I stuffed it like a turkey
From a NY Times article about two bridges that were approved under the House transportation plan. Why are these in the bill: because Don Young and Ted Stevens are powerful beyond ability and measure.
Tell us about this bridge please: "It would connect this economically depressed, rain-soaked town of 7,845 people to an island that has about 50 residents and the area's airport, which offers six flights a day (a few more in summer). It could cost about $200 million."
But how about something more absurd: "The other bridge would span an inlet for nearly two miles to tie Anchorage to a port that has a single regular tenant and almost no homes or businesses. It would cost up to $2 billion." 2 billion. Thank god we have the highest literacy rate in the world, and the best healthcare, available to the greatest number, and the most well funded artists in teh world....oh wait we don't---then maybe this bridge for one fucking person can wait. maybe it can wait, oh I don't know until we don't have children starving. Just a thought.
A rebuttal:
It's not a good way to legislate, although I got a lot of stuff in it," Mr. Young told The Anchorage Daily News in December. "I mean I stuffed it like a turkey."
Tell us about this bridge please: "It would connect this economically depressed, rain-soaked town of 7,845 people to an island that has about 50 residents and the area's airport, which offers six flights a day (a few more in summer). It could cost about $200 million."
But how about something more absurd: "The other bridge would span an inlet for nearly two miles to tie Anchorage to a port that has a single regular tenant and almost no homes or businesses. It would cost up to $2 billion." 2 billion. Thank god we have the highest literacy rate in the world, and the best healthcare, available to the greatest number, and the most well funded artists in teh world....oh wait we don't---then maybe this bridge for one fucking person can wait. maybe it can wait, oh I don't know until we don't have children starving. Just a thought.
A rebuttal:
It's not a good way to legislate, although I got a lot of stuff in it," Mr. Young told The Anchorage Daily News in December. "I mean I stuffed it like a turkey."
Why Losing No Longer Makes Me Cry (Part 1)
I grew up in Ohio. I grew up in a moderately conservative part of the state (suburban Columbus). Among my earliest memories of politics are memories that involve me crying and being mocked by teachers and students. We held a mock election in 3rd grade to mirror the 1988 campaign. I was the only student in the class who would or wanted to be Michael Dukakis. I came in dressed up to play my semi-semitic fellow traveller. I delivered a fine speech. The election results were tallied throughout the school and announced over the PA that afternoon. George HW Bush received the support of 189 students in Emerson Elementary (named, as all Westerville elementaries are, for the great american writer), Michael (Tanks are sexy) Dukakis received 2 (mine and the one of the three African American students). I remember being taunted and told, "How can you support him. He's stupid. He won't win. You're wrong." I cried, which prompted more comments and taunts. So, again, politics in young Aaron's life---not filled with memories of victory or joy. Mainly politics was about getting red in the ears (a sign of my rising passion), raising my voice and occasionally having tears run down my face as I was publicly ridiculed. So, suffice it to say I don't love the political climate of my hometown.
Flash forward 2 years. I'm in 5th grade. I'm more confident (by steps, not strides). I debate with my 5th grade teacher about legalized abortion. This time I don't cry, but I am so forceful that I make Meghan Fahey weep. She was raised Catholic and was traumatized by the fact that I wouldn't agree with her, her parents and the Pope. My teacher scolds me, more for my beliefs than for making Meghan cry. Great teacher, but like so many people in positions of authority here in Westerville---conservative.
Next seminal moment (that I remember as such) is Junior year. Ohio like many (if not all) other states has Boys' State. It's a chance for young men to learn about politics, pad college resumes, be evaluated by scary American Legion members, and further reinforce the buzz cut frat boy image that dominates Ohio young Republican meetings. So I was a sure bet. I figured I was without a chance. I even joked about going in with a flag so that I could burn it and save them the trouble of having to guess about my political leanings. So I wrote my essay...and it was picked. I was going to get to appear with other finalists and get to answer questions as posed by the old (Iowa old) members of the Westerville American Legion.
The Westerville American Legion is off in the woods (closer to Delaware). It's this ramshackle building that looks like something that would deserve a slow zoom in a documentary about the impovershed living conditions of the working poor in Appalachia. But, instead it's the meeting location for Westerville's veterans and general curmudgeon class.
I arrived dressed up and met and milled around with friends also about to stand trial. Included in the bunch were moderates, conservatives, and one radical-veterans'- ass-kissing-Young-Republican-inthecloset-toady, oh, and me. So it was, as Fox would say a balanced group.
We stand and salute the flag. Say the pledge of allegiance, apparently I'd been saying it wrong, there are certain places that you are to pause, and I didn't. Who knew? We then ascend the stairs to the second floor of the aforementioned Blair Witch house. I sit behind two long folding tables covered with a plastic table cloth facing 5 members of the American Legion. Judging from the ages three were WWII, one was Korea or WWII and the 5th was Vietnam. Behind the "judges" were parents (not mine, thankfully).
Each student was asked to draw a question from the basket and answer it. The first round was easy. I got a question about sewers. I answered something about investment in infrastructure and run-off being bad for streams (sportsmen) and farmers. It was fine. Nothing I said created that sound effect from 80s movies of the needle skipping across the record. It was a good showing for young Aaron.
The closeted Republican answered some question about taxes and managed to work in a reference to his desired impending service in the Coast Guard. This revelation was met with smiles and knowing glances. He was going to boys' state but who would join him (2 were slotted to go). Later a friend Zac mentioned his frustration with Korea as the forgotten war (more knowing glances but his slot was not assured).
I started to think I might have a chance. My essay was good, my arguments strong, and my rabid liberal preferences safely hidden by easy questions about sewage and other non-partisan (for my purposes) questions.
Then we got to round two. Round two were more dicey questions and we were allowed to debate with our fellow applicants. Yikes. I thought about it, I could either play the moderate and have a decent shot at Boys' State or I could answer and argue and hope that they would respect me. Given the title of this you can guess which option I took, and you might have a pretty good sense of how that choice panned out.
The 2nd question was to my friend Jeff, who was seated next to me. It was capital punishment. Jeff and I has talked about the issue days before. I knew his answer. He gave it, he supported capital punishment (the reasons escape me, but your basic defense of the position). I asked to respond. I did. Forcefully. The aged vets began to lean forward. I was steadily losing any points I may have accumulated.
I finished my answer and had a familiar warmth in my ears--I was getting into a fight. I figured, "these adults will value honest discourse." NOPE. They didn't ask another question for the next 25 minutes. We spent 25 minutes talking about the death penalty. I was the only panelist against it. The judges, my peers were all for it. Fuck, midway through I angered an audience member (father of Chris Gaul) so much that he stood up and argued with me. It stopped being about the panel, and started to be about trying to denigrate and convince this one liberal. I think for them it was the intellectual equivalent of a pebble in your shoe. It's not the size of the annoyance (power) it's that it disrupts your comfort at all. So I was assaulted. I was asked "do you REALLY think that." I was asked to offer my opinion on murder cases that took place 10 years before my birth, and whether or not certain veterans could save the government money by just "puttin' one between the eyes" of certain felons.
At one point I slid a sheet of paper over to jeff with the words "they are going to put my head on a pike" on it. I left, quickly (for fear of a lynching) and drove home. I was gleeful. I knew I wasn't going to Boys' State but I'd just had a knock down argument with entire room of conservative Westervillians and I wasn't in tears. Publicly assailed, mocked, ridiculed, taunted, and judged--but no tears. It was a recognition that they couldn't get me anymore. I was beyond their reach. Not a bad feeling.
Flash forward 2 years. I'm in 5th grade. I'm more confident (by steps, not strides). I debate with my 5th grade teacher about legalized abortion. This time I don't cry, but I am so forceful that I make Meghan Fahey weep. She was raised Catholic and was traumatized by the fact that I wouldn't agree with her, her parents and the Pope. My teacher scolds me, more for my beliefs than for making Meghan cry. Great teacher, but like so many people in positions of authority here in Westerville---conservative.
Next seminal moment (that I remember as such) is Junior year. Ohio like many (if not all) other states has Boys' State. It's a chance for young men to learn about politics, pad college resumes, be evaluated by scary American Legion members, and further reinforce the buzz cut frat boy image that dominates Ohio young Republican meetings. So I was a sure bet. I figured I was without a chance. I even joked about going in with a flag so that I could burn it and save them the trouble of having to guess about my political leanings. So I wrote my essay...and it was picked. I was going to get to appear with other finalists and get to answer questions as posed by the old (Iowa old) members of the Westerville American Legion.
The Westerville American Legion is off in the woods (closer to Delaware). It's this ramshackle building that looks like something that would deserve a slow zoom in a documentary about the impovershed living conditions of the working poor in Appalachia. But, instead it's the meeting location for Westerville's veterans and general curmudgeon class.
I arrived dressed up and met and milled around with friends also about to stand trial. Included in the bunch were moderates, conservatives, and one radical-veterans'- ass-kissing-Young-Republican-inthecloset-toady, oh, and me. So it was, as Fox would say a balanced group.
We stand and salute the flag. Say the pledge of allegiance, apparently I'd been saying it wrong, there are certain places that you are to pause, and I didn't. Who knew? We then ascend the stairs to the second floor of the aforementioned Blair Witch house. I sit behind two long folding tables covered with a plastic table cloth facing 5 members of the American Legion. Judging from the ages three were WWII, one was Korea or WWII and the 5th was Vietnam. Behind the "judges" were parents (not mine, thankfully).
Each student was asked to draw a question from the basket and answer it. The first round was easy. I got a question about sewers. I answered something about investment in infrastructure and run-off being bad for streams (sportsmen) and farmers. It was fine. Nothing I said created that sound effect from 80s movies of the needle skipping across the record. It was a good showing for young Aaron.
The closeted Republican answered some question about taxes and managed to work in a reference to his desired impending service in the Coast Guard. This revelation was met with smiles and knowing glances. He was going to boys' state but who would join him (2 were slotted to go). Later a friend Zac mentioned his frustration with Korea as the forgotten war (more knowing glances but his slot was not assured).
I started to think I might have a chance. My essay was good, my arguments strong, and my rabid liberal preferences safely hidden by easy questions about sewage and other non-partisan (for my purposes) questions.
Then we got to round two. Round two were more dicey questions and we were allowed to debate with our fellow applicants. Yikes. I thought about it, I could either play the moderate and have a decent shot at Boys' State or I could answer and argue and hope that they would respect me. Given the title of this you can guess which option I took, and you might have a pretty good sense of how that choice panned out.
The 2nd question was to my friend Jeff, who was seated next to me. It was capital punishment. Jeff and I has talked about the issue days before. I knew his answer. He gave it, he supported capital punishment (the reasons escape me, but your basic defense of the position). I asked to respond. I did. Forcefully. The aged vets began to lean forward. I was steadily losing any points I may have accumulated.
I finished my answer and had a familiar warmth in my ears--I was getting into a fight. I figured, "these adults will value honest discourse." NOPE. They didn't ask another question for the next 25 minutes. We spent 25 minutes talking about the death penalty. I was the only panelist against it. The judges, my peers were all for it. Fuck, midway through I angered an audience member (father of Chris Gaul) so much that he stood up and argued with me. It stopped being about the panel, and started to be about trying to denigrate and convince this one liberal. I think for them it was the intellectual equivalent of a pebble in your shoe. It's not the size of the annoyance (power) it's that it disrupts your comfort at all. So I was assaulted. I was asked "do you REALLY think that." I was asked to offer my opinion on murder cases that took place 10 years before my birth, and whether or not certain veterans could save the government money by just "puttin' one between the eyes" of certain felons.
At one point I slid a sheet of paper over to jeff with the words "they are going to put my head on a pike" on it. I left, quickly (for fear of a lynching) and drove home. I was gleeful. I knew I wasn't going to Boys' State but I'd just had a knock down argument with entire room of conservative Westervillians and I wasn't in tears. Publicly assailed, mocked, ridiculed, taunted, and judged--but no tears. It was a recognition that they couldn't get me anymore. I was beyond their reach. Not a bad feeling.
Friday, April 09, 2004
1 year
Around this time last year images were sent to every American's television of Marines toppling the giant statue of Saddam in downtown Baghdad. Today the Iraq facing American soldiers is arguably less secure and more dangerous. Just a second ago CNN broadcast footage of American soldiers mounting ladders to try and tear down posters of Sadr hanging from the very statue that came to symbolize the end of Saddam's regime. 1 year.
Thursday, April 08, 2004
White House and Intelligence Sources Disagree
From Kos and the NYTimes comes an article that argues that US intelligence is in direct conflict with White House rhetoric. Rumsfeld and others argue that the uprising is limited and localized. Contrast that with: "United States forces are confronting a broad-based Shiite uprising that goes well beyond supporters of one militant Islamic cleric who has been the focus of American counterinsurgency efforts."--from US intelligence officials.
Wednesday, April 07, 2004
Everyone Has a Blog
Yesterday, Emily T (DFA MA/IA/MI) (she of MOVERING) suggested that there should be a single clearinghouse for links to all the DFA alumni blogs. So I've started to collect the list. In so doing I was talking with friends from the campaign and I realized just how many people have blogs now. It's becoming like cell phones. First owning technology was a declaration of self-importance. I'm so important that I have to be accessible to the outside world at all times. Or. I'm so interesting that, hundreds will suffer if they are unable to read my ruminations on skim milk vs. soy milk.
But after a while, you realize that you're just as interesting as unicornlover23.blogspot.com or whathaveyou. And it becomes a steady Democratizing....until everyone has a blog. Then what?
So long, pointless story, short--I'm collecting DFA alums' blog addresses and putting them on the newly "designed" bar on the right.
(Final thought. The self awarness that comes from exposing your personal thoughts on everything to public scrutiny makes blogs tremendously succeptible to ironic non-statements. I know my first posts were littered with cynical and ironic (attempts at least) comments designed to sheild me from scorn. To ensure that I undercut my writing before anyone else had the chance. That's the dangerous thing about the form. Eventually you have to stop caring that people are reading--because in my case, I think the only people reading are friends--and that's not scary in the least. But it has been interesting to see how my writing changes with the perception of being read by a critical audience. I sadly used ironic self-criticism to blunt any potential external criticism. The effect being, fairly annoying reading, and writing that doesn't value the ideas it presents.)
But after a while, you realize that you're just as interesting as unicornlover23.blogspot.com or whathaveyou. And it becomes a steady Democratizing....until everyone has a blog. Then what?
So long, pointless story, short--I'm collecting DFA alums' blog addresses and putting them on the newly "designed" bar on the right.
(Final thought. The self awarness that comes from exposing your personal thoughts on everything to public scrutiny makes blogs tremendously succeptible to ironic non-statements. I know my first posts were littered with cynical and ironic (attempts at least) comments designed to sheild me from scorn. To ensure that I undercut my writing before anyone else had the chance. That's the dangerous thing about the form. Eventually you have to stop caring that people are reading--because in my case, I think the only people reading are friends--and that's not scary in the least. But it has been interesting to see how my writing changes with the perception of being read by a critical audience. I sadly used ironic self-criticism to blunt any potential external criticism. The effect being, fairly annoying reading, and writing that doesn't value the ideas it presents.)
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
Finally the soundtrack to my waking hours may exist in reality
The Darkness and Black Eyed Peas are reportedly considering collaboration. God bless. I love it. If only because both of them have been playing in non stop rotation in my head for the past three weeks. Now I can save time and sanity with a potential collaboration. It's Queen meets Tribe Called Quest (or some other poor analogy that Spin and Vibe would throw out).
Another potential collaboration--BEP and Coldplay. I guess the rumors of innovation starved rap and rock are greatly exaggerated.
Another potential collaboration--BEP and Coldplay. I guess the rumors of innovation starved rap and rock are greatly exaggerated.
Don't Forget Your Coppertone
Josh Micah Marshall talks about the Bush admin's planning for the war. This is fertile ground. Even if you supported the war, you have to believe that BushCo had no legitimate plan in place for governance/transfer...hell for even moving troops in and out.
''Pentagon planners in early May had predicted that U.S. troop levels would be down to 30,000 by late summer; instead, at Christmas the figure was 130,000 American soldiers in Iraq, with another 30,000 in Kuwait.''
What the fuck?! I imagine that if Bush and friends were around in 1969 they would have sent the Apollo 11 astronauts to the moon with swim trunks, Coppertone 15 and a pulp novel--only to be surprised to find out that the moon is not a fucking beach. That, In fact it's a rather harsh environment, and maybe you had better plan accordingly.
''Pentagon planners in early May had predicted that U.S. troop levels would be down to 30,000 by late summer; instead, at Christmas the figure was 130,000 American soldiers in Iraq, with another 30,000 in Kuwait.''
What the fuck?! I imagine that if Bush and friends were around in 1969 they would have sent the Apollo 11 astronauts to the moon with swim trunks, Coppertone 15 and a pulp novel--only to be surprised to find out that the moon is not a fucking beach. That, In fact it's a rather harsh environment, and maybe you had better plan accordingly.
Sadr City Erupts
Chan and Vick provide a gut wrenching account of street fighting in Sadr City, which recalls scenes from Black Hawk. It's a testament to my distance (thankfully) from armed conflict that the only analogy (a poor one, I'll admit) I can offer is from from a movie. I offer nothing pithy, or ironic or cynical--7-8 soldiers were killed and 43 Iraqis.
Intellectual Solidarity
EJ Dionne, Jr of WaPO lays out the challenge before atheists and believers alike--intellectual solidarity--a belief that faith or disbelief compells you to engage and interact with others in the hopes of learning and understaning the world anew.
"But the Jesuit theologian David Hollenbach puts an interesting twist on that adaptation. Religious liberty, he argues, must be rooted not merely in "tolerance" but in what he calls "intellectual solidarity."
Tolerance, he notes, is 'a strategy of noninterference with the beliefs and lifestyles of those who are different or 'other.' " That is the classic Enlightenment view. Intellectual solidarity demands more, he says. It "entails engagement with the other . . . in the hope that understanding might replace incomprehension and that perhaps even agreement could result.' "
"But the Jesuit theologian David Hollenbach puts an interesting twist on that adaptation. Religious liberty, he argues, must be rooted not merely in "tolerance" but in what he calls "intellectual solidarity."
Tolerance, he notes, is 'a strategy of noninterference with the beliefs and lifestyles of those who are different or 'other.' " That is the classic Enlightenment view. Intellectual solidarity demands more, he says. It "entails engagement with the other . . . in the hope that understanding might replace incomprehension and that perhaps even agreement could result.' "
Monday, April 05, 2004
"Des Moines, Iowa"
Overall the film Secretary is frankly quite terrible, but in the film's climax (no pun intended) Maggie Gyllenhaal asks James Spader (a thoroughly hateable man, again...as in Crash) myriad questions about his life, finally he answers a single one, "where are you from?" A figure of great malice, arrogance, annoyance and creulty, Spader's lawyer answers, "Des Moines, Iowa." It was at this point that Brian and I cheered. Loudly. Well longer than justified by the moment.
So why is the film bad? Having a friend who was into cutting earlier in life, I'm neither shocked nor intrigued by the practice. It doesn't seem foreign and therefore exotic or amazing. I understand the motivation, I've punched walls wanting to feel phsyical pain because the emotional pain was too complex. So it's not a novel concpet to me, it lacks shock value. Frankly it's painful for me to see--reminds me too much of the cuts on my friend's hands. After that section (the cutting)of the film we get sparse and fairly boring dialogue and S and M. I guess I am to be shocked by this. But after fighting on behalf of SECURE for a semester I'm not shocked. For non-obies, SECURE was a club that wanted to teach its members about S&M. I basically gave up my semester to fight for their right to exist. I got to play whip (no pun...just a reference to the legislative position) for the General Faculty and Student Senate. They needed to be chartered and I spent 2 months fighting, lobbying, cajoling, educating, and strong arming professors and administrators into allowing a vote--which we lost in a tie. (My hard count had us winning--but a supportive professor was forced to leave the meeting to tend to a collicky child, because this meeting unlike every other one lacked the usual college provided childcare). So while BDSM isn't my cup of tea I don't think it's terribly shocking either.
Mainly, I'm frustrated by the terrible dialogue. The film has the pacing of a Lynch work, but it's not that challenging. It's just slow to be slow. I guess none of the films angles struck me as innovative, appealing, interesting, or shocking--just annoying. But, I am deeply pleased that Spader is from Des Moines. Yes, he is. Of course he is.
So why is the film bad? Having a friend who was into cutting earlier in life, I'm neither shocked nor intrigued by the practice. It doesn't seem foreign and therefore exotic or amazing. I understand the motivation, I've punched walls wanting to feel phsyical pain because the emotional pain was too complex. So it's not a novel concpet to me, it lacks shock value. Frankly it's painful for me to see--reminds me too much of the cuts on my friend's hands. After that section (the cutting)of the film we get sparse and fairly boring dialogue and S and M. I guess I am to be shocked by this. But after fighting on behalf of SECURE for a semester I'm not shocked. For non-obies, SECURE was a club that wanted to teach its members about S&M. I basically gave up my semester to fight for their right to exist. I got to play whip (no pun...just a reference to the legislative position) for the General Faculty and Student Senate. They needed to be chartered and I spent 2 months fighting, lobbying, cajoling, educating, and strong arming professors and administrators into allowing a vote--which we lost in a tie. (My hard count had us winning--but a supportive professor was forced to leave the meeting to tend to a collicky child, because this meeting unlike every other one lacked the usual college provided childcare). So while BDSM isn't my cup of tea I don't think it's terribly shocking either.
Mainly, I'm frustrated by the terrible dialogue. The film has the pacing of a Lynch work, but it's not that challenging. It's just slow to be slow. I guess none of the films angles struck me as innovative, appealing, interesting, or shocking--just annoying. But, I am deeply pleased that Spader is from Des Moines. Yes, he is. Of course he is.
The Role of Tradition
I'm not Jewish. I can pass (Aaron Benjamin Leavy, dark haired, bearded, vaguely semitic, neurotic) but again I'm not a Jew. I went with my dear family to their Unitarian passover seder earlier this evening. It was open and affirming, easy and short. But it left me cold. It left me wanting something with more of an epic feel, something with structure. I wanted to feel connected to the centuries (millenia) of Jews who every year in good times and more often in bad had held seders that were unified by some key elements. Instead I felt like it was a very nice Fisher-Price my first seder.
I've been to several seders. This one had a few problems. First there were different questions. Not the normal 4. Everything was in English. We quoted Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. When talking about the plagues they were "some bad things." The blood was barely explained, but when it was, it was put on the doors so people would know who the Jews were. No mention of it being used to spare the first born. And it wasn't to let some folks know who the Jews were...it was the Angel of Death. I'm all for accessible, and since this was a Unitarian service, it wasn't intended as a solely Jewish service.
I talked about this with my mother who is studying to become a chaplain. It seems, I said, that if religion is the realm of irreducible and elemental, then that truth should be applicable throughout the centuries, and that the real test of theology and clergy is how does something eternally true apply to our lives today. I don't want or need fluff, and post modern--feel good stuff. I want open and affirming--but not at the expense of tradition. I also don't want faith that fails to acknowledge that we have learned and changed as a people (writ large). So I guess I'm trying to figure out how to be progressive in my outlook while cleaving to a tradition--something that connects me and my insignificant temporary actions to something that will exist longer than I do, and has existed for centuries.
I spent most of my life rebelling against Westerville's strict and staid adherence to mainline stuffy consumerist Christianity. But I think a part of me really wants structure. An approach to understanding.
I've been to several seders. This one had a few problems. First there were different questions. Not the normal 4. Everything was in English. We quoted Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. When talking about the plagues they were "some bad things." The blood was barely explained, but when it was, it was put on the doors so people would know who the Jews were. No mention of it being used to spare the first born. And it wasn't to let some folks know who the Jews were...it was the Angel of Death. I'm all for accessible, and since this was a Unitarian service, it wasn't intended as a solely Jewish service.
I talked about this with my mother who is studying to become a chaplain. It seems, I said, that if religion is the realm of irreducible and elemental, then that truth should be applicable throughout the centuries, and that the real test of theology and clergy is how does something eternally true apply to our lives today. I don't want or need fluff, and post modern--feel good stuff. I want open and affirming--but not at the expense of tradition. I also don't want faith that fails to acknowledge that we have learned and changed as a people (writ large). So I guess I'm trying to figure out how to be progressive in my outlook while cleaving to a tradition--something that connects me and my insignificant temporary actions to something that will exist longer than I do, and has existed for centuries.
I spent most of my life rebelling against Westerville's strict and staid adherence to mainline stuffy consumerist Christianity. But I think a part of me really wants structure. An approach to understanding.
Sunday, April 04, 2004
Scientists Get the Coolest Toys
My best friend's wife, Stacy, is looking to change jobs. At this new job she'd be scooping out the brains of rabid animals. To do so she has to crack open their skulls...using a "skull crushing mallet." I asked if when they interviewed her if they asked her to practice on a cantaloupe or something.
I love that there somewhere is someone with a business card extolling ACME brand skull crushing mallets, "for when you really need to expose rabid brains." Or so I like to imagine.
I love that there somewhere is someone with a business card extolling ACME brand skull crushing mallets, "for when you really need to expose rabid brains." Or so I like to imagine.
Kerry-Vilsack?
In an article that will only bolster the already preposterously large ego of politically minded Iowans, the NY Times reveals that Jim Johnson (the CEO of the VP selection committee for Kerry) has interviewed Gov. Tom Vilsack. Great.
I should explain this frustration. Throughout the campaign Iowans argued in their traditionally passive-aggressive fashion that they alone deserved the right of first refusal. Through years of demonstrated brilliance they had "earned" the right to be the first in the nation. They were smarter, more tenacious in their inspections, more savvy, and finally they were above making their decisions based on the triumverate of modern political evils--polls, TV ads, and media favorites.
They then proceeded to jump on the Johns' band wagon in the last week. It's fine that they want to be first in the nation. It's fine if they want to pretend that they are smarter than average voters. But then they better fucking behave in a fashion that engenders some confidence in the accuracy fo those claims. To make your decision in the last 2 weeks, based on Dean's disdain for the process, Edwards' fine hair and easy charm, and John Kerry's inevitability and great TV spots is hardly the same as the profile of measured analysis and careful reasoning that Iowans so dearly cherish. The idea that election in Iowa requires a candidate to sit down across diner tables with countless elderly taciturn Iowans survives only to the extent that that action actually influences Iowans. Iowans seem to think that they are imbued with a power, possibly gleaned from years of REALLY looking at crops and livestock, that allows them to REALLY know about a man; to know about his will and his abilities.
So that's why Iowans won't cross county lines to see a major presidential candidate. The candidate, the judged, needs to travel to visit me--they say. I am a caucus attendee. I am special, I am capable. And many of them are more well informed, if only because of the actions they carry out in service of the lie. Attending countless meetings, frys (steak and otherwise), and central committee meetings. But I mentioned "the lie."
The lie? That Iowans are inately better judges than any other. That they take more care in their deliberations than those crazy Minnesotans, or those silly Kansans. Iowans are no more capable judges of character, electability, decency, competency, etc than any other people. They simply have constructed this nice little lie that they tell each other. If the voters of New Mexico spent as much time with each candidate as Iowans did they could claim that they were the best judges. However....the real lie is that Iowans make their decisions based on all those moments spent sipping weak brown water coffee with presidential candidates. The truth is that Iowans, like AMERICANS make their decisions based on polls, TV and the media. That's how John Kerry and John Edwards surged while GHD and Dick fell. Howard Dean was hurt because he once said that the precious caucus system was flawed. He didn't play along with the lie. And it bit him in the ass. Editorial note--For months in Iowa I said that I thought it was the most byzantine, arcane and fucked up process on earth, that it was inherently anti-democractic and skewed towards party regulars to the exclusion of infusing the process with new energy. I cheered when Dean's quotation was revealed.
All of this is fine. The only frustration is that you cannot have it both ways. Campaigns shouldn't have to take out your fucking trash, spay your dog, teach your child trig, and attend countless "impromptu coffee meetings" if Iowans are just going to make their decisions like everyone else. Iowans want to be treated like some fragile, nearly ephemeral remnantof American democratic beauty--something to be cherished, catered to, and nurtured (with countless press releases extolling the virtues of Iowans and the process).
If you want to be treated like an endangered species it helps to look like something different from the dominant species. Iowans aren't the spotted owl--they're pigeons. They choose the same way that every other primary Democrat chooses. They claim that they are making a winner, that they are seeing through the hype to find the "diamond in the rough." Truth is they try to pick a "winner" --not the person that they think should win--but the person that they think will win.
The final frustration in all this is the belief that their power extends well beyond the caucus. They think that their governor is a man of such power, political ability and noteriety that he MUST be considered for the Vice Presidential slot. Wrong. Tom Vilsack is the able governor of Iowa. What does he bring? He probably does ensure that Iowans again cast their votes for Kerry. Does Vilsack carry weight in MN? Doubtful. How about Wisconsin? Don't bet on it. The belief expressed by Iowans that their boy is a golden boy simply reeks with the stink of unadulterated caucus-bred arrogance.
I am sick of it.
I should explain this frustration. Throughout the campaign Iowans argued in their traditionally passive-aggressive fashion that they alone deserved the right of first refusal. Through years of demonstrated brilliance they had "earned" the right to be the first in the nation. They were smarter, more tenacious in their inspections, more savvy, and finally they were above making their decisions based on the triumverate of modern political evils--polls, TV ads, and media favorites.
They then proceeded to jump on the Johns' band wagon in the last week. It's fine that they want to be first in the nation. It's fine if they want to pretend that they are smarter than average voters. But then they better fucking behave in a fashion that engenders some confidence in the accuracy fo those claims. To make your decision in the last 2 weeks, based on Dean's disdain for the process, Edwards' fine hair and easy charm, and John Kerry's inevitability and great TV spots is hardly the same as the profile of measured analysis and careful reasoning that Iowans so dearly cherish. The idea that election in Iowa requires a candidate to sit down across diner tables with countless elderly taciturn Iowans survives only to the extent that that action actually influences Iowans. Iowans seem to think that they are imbued with a power, possibly gleaned from years of REALLY looking at crops and livestock, that allows them to REALLY know about a man; to know about his will and his abilities.
So that's why Iowans won't cross county lines to see a major presidential candidate. The candidate, the judged, needs to travel to visit me--they say. I am a caucus attendee. I am special, I am capable. And many of them are more well informed, if only because of the actions they carry out in service of the lie. Attending countless meetings, frys (steak and otherwise), and central committee meetings. But I mentioned "the lie."
The lie? That Iowans are inately better judges than any other. That they take more care in their deliberations than those crazy Minnesotans, or those silly Kansans. Iowans are no more capable judges of character, electability, decency, competency, etc than any other people. They simply have constructed this nice little lie that they tell each other. If the voters of New Mexico spent as much time with each candidate as Iowans did they could claim that they were the best judges. However....the real lie is that Iowans make their decisions based on all those moments spent sipping weak brown water coffee with presidential candidates. The truth is that Iowans, like AMERICANS make their decisions based on polls, TV and the media. That's how John Kerry and John Edwards surged while GHD and Dick fell. Howard Dean was hurt because he once said that the precious caucus system was flawed. He didn't play along with the lie. And it bit him in the ass. Editorial note--For months in Iowa I said that I thought it was the most byzantine, arcane and fucked up process on earth, that it was inherently anti-democractic and skewed towards party regulars to the exclusion of infusing the process with new energy. I cheered when Dean's quotation was revealed.
All of this is fine. The only frustration is that you cannot have it both ways. Campaigns shouldn't have to take out your fucking trash, spay your dog, teach your child trig, and attend countless "impromptu coffee meetings" if Iowans are just going to make their decisions like everyone else. Iowans want to be treated like some fragile, nearly ephemeral remnantof American democratic beauty--something to be cherished, catered to, and nurtured (with countless press releases extolling the virtues of Iowans and the process).
If you want to be treated like an endangered species it helps to look like something different from the dominant species. Iowans aren't the spotted owl--they're pigeons. They choose the same way that every other primary Democrat chooses. They claim that they are making a winner, that they are seeing through the hype to find the "diamond in the rough." Truth is they try to pick a "winner" --not the person that they think should win--but the person that they think will win.
The final frustration in all this is the belief that their power extends well beyond the caucus. They think that their governor is a man of such power, political ability and noteriety that he MUST be considered for the Vice Presidential slot. Wrong. Tom Vilsack is the able governor of Iowa. What does he bring? He probably does ensure that Iowans again cast their votes for Kerry. Does Vilsack carry weight in MN? Doubtful. How about Wisconsin? Don't bet on it. The belief expressed by Iowans that their boy is a golden boy simply reeks with the stink of unadulterated caucus-bred arrogance.
I am sick of it.
Saturday, April 03, 2004
Saul(t) of the Earth
"As an organizer I start from where the world is, as it is, not as I would like it to be. That we accept the world as it is does not in any sense weaken our desire to change it into what we believe it should be - it is necessary to begin where the world is if we are going to change it to what we think it should be." Saul Alinsky
Friday, April 02, 2004
How Bad is that Bad Word?
There is a web site linked to by www.boingboing.net that instructs football (soccer) refs on the suggested severity of every curse, swear, slander or gesture. Apparently slut is borderline red card, though twat is probably just a yellow card--as is "useless."
Thursday, April 01, 2004
What is life worth?
Jim Holt writes a solid article about the value assigned each human life by the US Gov't (or at least two of its agencies). Not suprisingly--the EPA loves you more (6.1 million). This has long struck me as one of the more interesting branches of economics. Evaluating compensation for death or disfigurement.
"Economists looked at the salaries paid to workers in riskier jobs like mining. They figured out that such workers received, on average, an additional $61 a year for facing an extra 1-in-100,000 risk of accidental death. Evidently, these workers valued their own lives at 100,000 times $61, or $6.1 million." But that's $61 per year, and presumably that increases with inflation, while the worker's years left decrease. But that's picking at nits. It is called the dismal science for a reason.
"Economists looked at the salaries paid to workers in riskier jobs like mining. They figured out that such workers received, on average, an additional $61 a year for facing an extra 1-in-100,000 risk of accidental death. Evidently, these workers valued their own lives at 100,000 times $61, or $6.1 million." But that's $61 per year, and presumably that increases with inflation, while the worker's years left decrease. But that's picking at nits. It is called the dismal science for a reason.
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