Where does one apply for this job?

Could you put a handle on them?

It can be tough for FBI man who nicknames bank robbers

Along with 2008's near-record number of local bank robberies—276 at current count, and delayed reports could still bring the total close to 2006's tally of 284—arose an unusual problem: coming up with all those nicknames.With so many robberies to sort through, christening each serial robber—those wanted for at least 3 heists—with a unique and memorable name was more of a challenge than usual, said Chicago FBI spokesman Ross Rice, who assigns the names."It's actually one of the more trying parts of the job," Rice said.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/nationworld/chi-talk-robbersjan05,0,6136633.story

I want this job. I’d give every criminal an insulting nickname to piss them off and/or make their prison terms hell. Forget “The Cadillac Bandit;” that gives them an upper-class air. In fact, don’t use ‘bandit’ at all so as to avoid even casual equating with Smokey & the.

And if I ever drew a blank, I’d get inspiration from MST3K:

Hack the Planet

You a fan of ’95 Angelina Jolie movies? Oh well.

An 18-year-old college student in Canada – majoring in Chemistry, mind – built a small lab in his garage. Of course, the police decided he was making meth and arrested him. Then, after admitting several days later that the lab was not, in fact, used for making drugs, kept the student in jail because he had some materials which could be used in the making of explosives.

Apparently, the Canadian Keystones were tipped off to the presence of the lab by a woman from whom the student had purchased fertilizer. It was her concern that it was being used to make meth. Conveniently, the article neglected to note how much fertilizer had been purchased, but I imagine there’s a significant difference in the quantities needed to fill a beaker, and those necessary to churn out a drum of crystal.

Now, I’ve looked up the ingredients for making meth (for which search I am probably on a watch list now), because I know that the majority of meth producers in my county are under-educated trailer trash, and I assumed it couldn’t be that hard to produce. I think with that list, and maybe a couple of reference books or a local chemist, I could probably walk into a lab and determine within a couple of hours if they had been making meth there. It certainly wouldn’t take days. And the bullshit explosives charge (HA! A pun.) is just the cops trying to justify their heavy-handed inanity. Everyone has explosive-making material in their home. Ammonia, bleach, fertilizer, foil, drain cleaner, gasoline, Styrofoam – all can be used to create explosives. Hell…Mythbusters gives you enough information to make them. We’ve come a long way from the 80s, when the FBI forced the writers for MacGyver to either substitute incorrect materials or skip crucial steps for Mac’s off-the-cuff brand of troubleshooting. To protect the kids, don’cha know.

See, government is not nimble – especially the bloated bureaucracy ol’ George has saddled us with – so it passes laws that allow it to detain people on a pretext (Patriot Act, anyone?) until it can figure things out. The problem is that individuals are faster at learning how to circumvent laws and technology. Most DRM protections are broken within hours of their release (using such high-tech devices as a Sharpie), you can buy DVDs of movies that are still in theaters, and people Twitter locations of traffic stops.

And these are mainly benign examples. What if you want to cause mischief? According to this story (http://www.thesentinel.com/302730670790449.php), local teens are making copies of license plates and speeding past county speed cameras. The owner of the real plate gets the ticket, and the official justification behind the cams (it’s not about the money…honest) goes out the window.

I recently checked out a stack of books at the library. When I handed them to the woman behind the counter, she set the whole stack on an electronic pad about the size of a medium-sized scanner. A couple of button taps later, and she handed the stack back to me. “All done,” she chirped. “Are you using RFID tags?” I asked. She reluctantly confirmed that yes, they are. If you’re unfamiliar with the “arphids,” they’re Radio-Frequency IDentification tags. They’re similar to the metallic tags retailers use to protect electronic items from being stolen. The pad at the library read all of the tags at once, and noted that I was the patron checking them out. Theoretically, the library could tie their RFID system into some sort of cell network and use that to locate their books and, presumably, me.

Now, think of the money that went into this system. All of the hardware that was purchased. The software and training. Programming the tags themselves. The man-hours required to tag every book, magazine, and DVD.

30 seconds in a microwave will burn out the tag.

Governments and corporations spend millions of dollars in implementing “solutions” that can be foiled by determined individuals using low-tech or low-cost methods.

Those RFID tags? They can be cloned using a ten-dollar machine from Radio Shack. Doesn’t sound like a problem for anyone but the library? A lot of credit cards and hotel keys use RFIDs.

Gait-recognition cameras can be defeated by a handful of gravel in one shoe.

You can get ATM default passwords from the technical manuals. A lot of the retailers that have third-party ATMs in their stores don’t change them.

As Cory Doctorow states in his book Little Brother, “The important thing about security systems isn’t how they work, it’s how they fail.”

I suppose that student in Saskatchewan, who is forbidden from using any lab outside of the school, and had to notify the school of the pending charges against him (his trial continues later this month), knows pretty well how they fail.

So Keep the Kiddies at Home

I knew it already, but it's nice to get confirmation.

These results are based entirely on the words I use, of course. I said at the very beginning that I cuss a lot. Obviously, this is just a silly little thing meant to pass the time, but it illustrates up a point: Words really have no power in and of themselves – it’s always the intent behind them that determines their impact.

Context is important, too. FOX announced recently that it was developing a new dramedy called Bitches. It’s going to be similar to Sex and the City, but the female leads will be werewolves. I know the producers think they’re doing some sort of clever contextual end-run around the FCC (See…‘bitch’ is a term for a female wolf, so it’s not cussing, it’s zoology!), but you call female wolves she-wolves, not bitches, so they’re just cussing.

I don’t care what they call it, though; I’m watching it. I love werewolves, and will watch anything lycanthropic – no matter how awful it is. I’ve seen Full Eclipse three times, for Pete’s sake.

My top werewolf films are (in no particular order):

An American Werewolf in London
The Ginger Snaps trilogy
Dog Soldiers
The Company of Wolves
The Howling

I’m happy with the writer, Michael Dougherty, who wrote X2 and Trick-r-Treat, and the Executive Producers also produced Pushing Daisies, so it seems like a good crew to helm the thing. I am curious about the casting, though. The only TV actresses I can name off the top of my head are Olivia Wilde (Thirteen on House), Amanda Tapping (Magnus on Sanctuary), and Mariska Hargitay (Detective Benson on Law & Order: SVU). I could accept any of them as Manhattan socialites, but I think only Wilde would make a good werewolf. Hey, as long as they don’t cast Sarah Jessica Parker, I’m good. Lycanthropes are carnivores, SJ.


Why the long face?

If they could persuade some screen actresses to sign up, that’d be cool. Gina Gershon would make a good were, as would Carla Gugino. Christina Ricci deserves another shot since Cursed…was.

With vampires having gotten a lot of media time this past year, I’m looking forward to some equal exposure for the shapeshifters. The remake of The Wolf Man will be fun (I can’t understand Benicio del Toro anyway, so he may as well just growl), and maybe we’ll finally get to see the Lycans kick so much vampire arse in Underworld 3. They’re so obviously the superior species (the train assault in part one), it annoys me that the vamps are presented as the “ruling class” in that series. Especially since most of them are whiny, pseudo-Goth Eurotrash vamps.

So remember, kids: if you want to be on an NC-17 blog, use ‘fuck’ correctly. If you want to be on Fox, use ‘bitches’ incorrectly. And if you want to be on Sarah Jessica Parker, either be Matthew Broderick or bring a sugar lump.

10/25/1415 – Never Forget

A story in today’s Telegraph reads:

“A science fiction fan sparked a bomb alert, which led to 100 homes being evacuated, after reports of a man seen with a longbow.”

At first read, the headline indicates the reporter gets confused by the “Fantasy/Science Fiction” signs on the shelves at Borders, but as the story explains, police were called when the man was spotted with a longbow, and in investigating the flat, discovered items they “initially suspected could be homemade explosive devices, [but] turned out to be harmless ‘science fiction-style’ equipment.”

“Armed officers and negotiators arrived and a 36-year-old man was arrested on suspicion of possessing an offensive weapon.”

What did the police think he was going to do with a longbow? It’s not like they’re good for slaughtering French heavy cavalry or anything.

I just hope the officers were too distracted by the homemade phasers and lightsabers to check out the kitchen. As the BBC reported recently:

Doctors are calling for a ban on long pointed kitchen knives to reduce deaths from stabbing.

“A team from West Middlesex University Hospital said violent crime is on the increase - and kitchen knives are used in as many as half of all stabbings.”

I vote we ban hospitals, as more than half of all preventable deaths in patients occur from nosocomial infection.

“They argued many assaults are committed impulsively, prompted by alcohol and drugs, and a kitchen knife often makes an all too available weapon.”

Along with hammers, pencils, wrenches, heavy brass candlesticks, and large geode bookends – and that’s just the stuff on my computer desk.

“The researchers said there was no reason for long pointed knives to be publicly available at all. They consulted 10 top chefs from around the UK, and found such knives have little practical value in the kitchen.”

Most of the gadgets in my kitchen have little practical value. I’m looking at you, Ron Popeil. I’m thinking the 10 top chefs are full of shit. Turn on Food Network at random and chances are, someone’s using a big honkin’ knife.

“Home Office spokesperson said there were already extensive restrictions in place to control the sale and possession of knives.”

That is a distinctly Orwellian title.

"‘The law already prohibits the possession of offensive weapons in a public place, and the possession of knives in public without good reason or lawful authority’”

But where is “good reason” defined? I carry a Swiss Army knife everywhere because I might need to open a box, tighten a screw, cut a thread or open a bottle of wine. It also has a large blade and an awl that could do some damage if I made the effort. Does the potential for violence outweigh the many practical applications? And isn’t that a judgment call on my personality rather than the tools I own?

"‘Offensive weapons are defined as any weapon designed or adapted to cause injury, or intended by the person possessing them to do so.’”

If it’s a weapon, of course it’s designed to cause injury. That’s their purpose! I also like the “intentions” clause. Many self-defense instructors advise that you use your keys to try and blind an attacker. Should we outlaw keys next, just in case?

I’m declaring the British Empire officially dead. Hey, France, if you want to go for the tie with Agincourt 2.0, now’s your chance.

In Which Time Warner Threatens To Hold Its Breath, And, While Making Ironic Press Releases, Is Shown To Be Insulted By Basic Math

So MTV Networks and Time Warner Cable got into a pissing match over pricing yesterday, and it seemed likely we would lose Noggin, which is the only one of the 19 MTV Network channels we care about, as it keeps Cub entertained. Fortunately, it seems they were able to reach a last-minute agreement.

I looked at the statements from both companies yesterday. Viacom said:

“The renewal we are seeking is reasonable and modest relative to the profits TWC enjoys from our networks. We have asked for an increase of less than 25 cents per month, per subscriber, which adds up to less than a penny per day for all 19 of MTV Networks' channels.”

Straightforward and upfront. They told us exactly what each individual customer would be asked to pay, and noted how many channels they get for that money. Time Warner countered with:

“Viacom claims their demands equate to “pennies,” but that is misleading and insulting to our customers, from whom Viacom is trying to extort another $39 million annually – on top of the hundreds of millions of dollars our customers already pay to Viacom each year. That doesn’t sound like pennies to us.”

How is that misleading? They state outright they want a little less than one quarter per subscriber per month. Honesty is not insulting, it’s refreshing. And if you want to talk about extortion, who has the monopoly here? If I don’t like what MTV is showing, I can go to another channel. If I don’t like my cable service, I don’t have any other choices. And we don’t pay hundreds of millions of dollars to Viacom, by the way; we pay it to you.

TW continues: “Demanding that our customers pay so much more for these few networks would be unreasonable in any economy, but it is particularly outrageous given the current economic conditions.”

When did 19 become a “few”? Notice that Time Warner didn’t offer up the number of subscribers they have. FYI, it’s a bit more than 13 million. If you multiply the $0.25 increase by 12 months by 13,000,000 subscribers, you do get $39 million, so the statement from Viacom was absolutely true. Time Warner is the one that’s blowing smoke. I can picture the CEO as he dictated the press release: red-faced, arms flailing about, vein throbbing in his forehead, blowing spittle all over the poor copywriter. And the fact that they tried to scaremonger by equating our cable bill to the economic chaos makes them an even bigger bunch of assholes.

An extra quarter per month. That’s $3 extra a year for each subscriber. For 19 channels. The average cost for Time Warner Cable – considering all packages, deals, rebates, etc. – runs around $113 per month (skimming through Google, anyway). $113 per month x 12 months x 13 million customers = $17.6 billion per year. How much do you want to bet that your bill will go up by more than $3 this year? If past behavior is any indication, Time Warner will raise the price by 3%, a small but crucial difference in designator. That will be an additional $530 million Time Warner will reap. I figure it’ll break down like this: $39 million to pay Viacom, maybe $91 million for all the other deals they made, and the remaining $400 million as reparations for being called out and losing face.

Yesterday, Viacom was running scrawls on all of the affected channels urging viewers to call Time Warner to demand these networks. I called in, but to ask a question instead:

Me: I know that if you accept Viacom’s terms, you’ll pass the extra cost on to us. But what if we lose those channels? Will there be a corresponding reduction of our bill?

TW: “I’m not authorized to discuss the negotiations.”

Me: “I’m not asking about the negotiations. I’m asking if my bill will go down 25% if I lose a quarter of my available channels.”

TW: “I’m not authorized to discuss the negotiations.”

Me: “No, listen…”

Needless to say, I never got the answer, but I suspect it rhymes with “yuck foo.”

Along with newspapers (Bringing you yesterday’s news today!), cable companies really need to update their business model. People have been asking for a la carte programming for years, and keep getting told it would be impossible. Then those same cable companies turn around and offer “On Demand” services. Wait a minute…you can open up one specific channel for movies I can start at any time, and charge me per instance of usage, but you can’t figure out how to swap out Lifetime in exchange for AMC in my extended tier? Talk about insulting your customers. Their intelligence, anyway.

Legacies

I was putting away the last of the Christmas decorations today, and while I was in the garage, some Y-chromosome function kicked in and compelled me to putter. It was already tidy, but my mind insisted it could be even more organized. So I moved shelves and toys, emptied some boxes and filled others, hung tools on the wall, and generally had a high old time. At one point, Mrs. Cat asked me why I was doing all this, and I honestly had no answer beyond grunting “Woman go house; cave mine!”

But it occurred to me as I was putting up the ochre hand prints and saber-toothed ibex drawings that if a man’s home is his castle, surely the garage is his armory.

Now, my grandfather died before I was born, so I never knew him, and can only piece together what sort of man he was by looking over the things he left behind. Judging by the stuff in the garage, he was either an amateur mechanic or a professional assassin. I mean, there’s a toolbox I could fit Cub into filled with all sorts of rasps, files, wrenches, screwdrivers, drill bits, and blades. In various corners and on random hooks are three different hacksaws, a large wood saw, a pick, a mattock, an axe, a couple of hatchets, a manual drill, bamboo stakes, a very large spool of medium-gauge wire, enough heavy chain to fetter the entire cast of Hostel, a sledgehammer, a couple of different shovels, a post-hole digger, two bags of lime, and – most telling for we Dexter fans – an unopened box of 39-gallon trash bags.

I imagine if I uncovered his diary up in the attic, a typical entry would be:

July 19: Changed oil in car; fixed porch rail; dismembered milkman; sanded dining room table; finished interrogating the Communist I caught at the Post Office (see July 5) and buried him in the backyard; my new rose hybrid bloomed today!; replaced bathroom faucet; set snare for that damn raccoon/sneaky neighbor kid. Note: need more trash bags.

Raising My Ire

The Bush Administration reduced the country’s net worth by six trillion dollars, pushed the DOW down 4,000 points, raised unemployment by 3%, increased the deficit by over $900 billion, forced banks to lend money to the insolvent, thereby collapsing the mortgage industry, pushed through a $700 billion bailout with no oversights or conditions, and demanded that auto executives accept a $1/year salary in order to get federal money.

(Of course, when I say ‘the Bush Administration,’ I mean ‘a Democratically-controlled Congress’, which the AP has conveniently forgotten is part of this administration.)

So after all of that hard work, and in light of the burgeoning economic crisis, it seems absolutely natural that they vote themselves a pay raise. Yep, each of our hard-working, fiscally responsible elected reps will receive an extra $4,700 – or a 2.8% increase. That’s an additional $2,500,000 from the taxpayers.

How about you, dear readers? Could you use an extra $4,700 a year? Call your reps and explain that to them.

All I can say is that it’s a damn good thing Congress isn’t seated in Brighton, MI, since their City Council just approved an ordinance allowing police to ticket and fine anyone who is annoying in public "by word of mouth, sign or motions." http://www.detnews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20081219/METRO/812190459

What kills me is the admission from a city attorney that “there could be situations where the measure would violate freedom of speech.” Yeah…like every single one of them. I’m hoping that the citizens of Brighton show up at every public council meeting and demand that the councilors be ticketed as soon as they start talking.

Ten Glorious Minutes

Mama Cat came to visit over the holidays, and today – quite possibly because of a carbon monoxide leak – she and Mrs. Cat decided to take Kitten with them and hit the after-Christmas sales. So after making sure everyone had money, sensible shoes, store cards, cell phones, extra ammo, the portable Jaws of Life, and a Marine escort, they joined the madding crowd.

After settling Cub down in front of some flashy, cartoony thing, I attacked the house, rectifying the chaos that comes with the holidays: gift wrapping detritus, pieces of new toys that weren’t quite as sturdy as the commercials made them out to be, piles of dishes from extra-special, extra-large holiday meals, baskets of laundry because the weather keeps pendulum-ing from Winter to Spring, and the inevitable paper scraps, leaf pieces, dust bunnies and other unidentifiable oorts on the carpet that the visitors bring in.

It took a while, but that was okay. I’m not really anal about the housework, but I am clumsy, and if I can avoid breaking an ankle on one of Cub’s Matchbox cars, all the better.

So I finished up everything, and just had time to get through the opening credits on one of my new DVDs before Josie and the rest of the Pussycats returned, their hunting trophies carefully wrapped in variously-logoed plastic bags and clutched with a vehemence usually only seen in the more rabid NRA members.

Five minutes later, there were discarded coats, shoes, and socks piled on chairs and the floor, I had tomato sauce on my shirt and the kitchen floor from Cub’s kibble, camo fatigues were piled on the washing machine, having been swapped for more sensible jeans and T-shirts, and the dishes and bowls had been snatched from the rack by Mrs. Cat so she could start fixing supper. Mrs. Cat is genetically incapable of fixing any meal – from stir-fry to cereal – without using every single measuring cup we own. On the plus side, everything Mrs. Cat fixes is really fucking good, so I generally don’t mind washing up, as long as I have a few minutes alone in the caloric coma before I have to start processing higher brain functions.

All of that was really just a build up to brag that my wife fixed two homemade sweet potato pies tonight, topped with homemade whipped cream, and I am having to type by randomly whacking the keyboard with a single finger because the rest of me is totally occupied in licking the plate clean and making yummy sounds.

Apparently I’m “It”

I’ve been neglecting dear Jales over at Barely Dressed. Seems she tagged me a couple of weeks ago and I missed it. Here are the rules:

RULE ONE, I have to grab one of the books closest to me, go to page 56, type the fifth line and the next two to five lines that follow.

RULE TWO, I have to pick five people who love books and who could receive the Bookworm award with honor.

And the result is:

“McNihil wondered if she had a name. He supposed he could give her one, something cute and temporary; it only had to last as long as whatever connection existed between them. Which was probably measurable in hours. If that, he thought glumly. She was the loveliest thing that had ever been inside the dark, cramped space of his working and living accommodations. Like some self-destructive flower that had bloomed there, begging to be crushed inside anyone’s fist.”

Noir - K.W. Jeter

Like Jales, I don’t have five other people I could tag, since most of my friends aren’t on Blogspot, but I’ll go ahead and shout out to Elle, Anise, and EX-PFC Wintergreen.

Some Anaesthesia Required

It’s that time of year again. Time for parents to steal away and put together the “Santa” gifts in secret so the tiny terrorists can keep the magic alive one more year. I’m convinced that toy manufacturers have a special set of instructions they include in the packages they expect to sell over Christmas. You know what I’m talking about. These are the instructions that take pains to include actual-sized illustrations of the ¾” screws, but whose diagrams for assembly require a 4,000 power microscope to read. Even then, those fun-loving engineers tend to include drawings more resembling optical illusions than any sort of true three-point perspective, as the lines showing you where to attach various accessories always look like they are zooming off into the Cartesian horizon instead of into some physical part of the toy.

And would it be too much to ask for someone to actually lay out these booklets in some sort of desktop publishing program before they’re printed? That way, you’d know beforehand if some crucial piece of information fell on the other side of the fold. I love turning the page over and seeing:

STEP 9b – Continued: Though the illustration seems to indicate otherwise, under no circumstances are the snapbaffles to be inserted onto the auxiliary flange before the flousting lever is rotated to parallel. The snapbaffles cannot be removed once they are assembled, and if you’re reading this after completing all of the other steps on the previous page, you’re just going to have to go buy a new one and start over – or explain to your child why there’s no gift from Santa for them. Ha ha HA HA HA!

They’re also misleading about the “Tools Required” section. It’s always just: Hammer. Phillips screwdriver. Yes, technically, you could assemble the entire toy with just those two items. As long as your screwdriver has a magnetic head, can adjust from 3” to 10” long, turn in right-angles, and has a built-in LED light source and jeweler’s loupe. There’s a reason Santa uses elves to do all of the toymaking – small hands. They can get into the 1 1/16” gap between the primary camshaft and the torqueguard to tighten down the friction pins. The same friction pins that the instructions reference in big bold red letters, letting you know that if they aren’t at the correct depth, the entire toy becomes one big deathtrap.

Adding to the fun is trying to do all of this in an unheated garage, where every scrape of the knuckles or pinched finger is exponentially more painful – and the fact that the garage shares a wall with the kids’ room means I can’t even cuss satisfactorily.

This is why my stocking is always full of bandages, rum and Valium.

Merry Christmas, y’all.

Whirled News Tonight

Two stories recently caught my eye in my local fishwrap.

The first was about a couple of Englishmen who had flown to the US for a vacation, and ended up being jailed for several weeks. Seems they had packed a couple of silencers with them, which – as weapon accessories are want to do – attracted the notice of the authorities. These two first claimed the silencers were a gift for a hunting buddy they were visiting, then after being a guest of our penal system, refined their statement to say the silencers were for air rifles, like those used in paintball. Needless to say, the two UK natives were finally deported. One of them was quoted as saying he would never ever visit the US again. Ever.

Now, all of this tends to evoke a “Well that sucks” reaction, but the very last line of the story changes everything. “The two men admitted they had not declared the silencers to Customs.” Ohhhhhh. Now I see. Because you were the dumbasses that didn’t declare a weapon accessory, we’re the ones at fault. I’m kind of glad you won’t visit again, because personal responsibility is in short enough supply here as it is. We don’t have enough to spare for you.


The other story went something like this (I’m paraphrasing):

Local high school student Crystal Woods took offense at a comment made by her Art teacher shortly after the Presidential election, when he said that African Americans couldn’t complain about slavery anymore.

“I couldn’t believe he said that in front of the class,” said Crystal, who is African American. “It’s like he was trying to minimize our struggles in this country. “

Crystal complained to her mother, Sharon, who called Principal Jonathan Stevenson to find out what the school intended to do about the offensive speech.

This is not the first time the Woods family has run into insensitivity from the school. Crystal’s older brother, James, found a confederate flag sticker beside his locker one day, and often overheard comments from other students about how he didn’t have to perform well academically because he was on the basketball team. James, the Valedictorian of his class five years ago, attended a state school on a basketball scholarship.

Principal Stevenson has assured the Woods family that the teacher will be required to attend sensitivity training.

“I’m just glad that he’ll know he can’t say things like that without repercussions,” Sharon said.


If this were in any way a sane world, the story should have read like this:

Local high school student Crystal Woods took offense at a comment made by her Art teacher shortly after the Presidential election, when he said that African Americans couldn’t complain about slavery anymore.

“I couldn’t believe he said that in front of the class,” said Crystal, who is African American. “It’s like he was trying to minimize our struggles in this country. “

Crystal complained to her mother, Sharon, who called Principal Jonathan Stevenson to find out what the school intended to do about the offensive speech.

The Principal immediately scheduled an Over-sensitivity class for Crystal and Sharon, citing the fact that the Constitution doesn’t guarantee freedom from offense at others’ Free Speech.

“He probably shouldn’t have said that to his class,” Stevenson noted, “but to demand punishment over a thoughtless comment is overreacting just a tad.”

Stevenson says the priority for the Over-sensitivity class will be to teach the Woods women how to be more like Crystal’s brother James, who didn’t let every little thing bother him. “He maintained a perfect GPA and won a full sports scholarship to our local college,” Stevenson said. “They’d do better trying to be more like James rather than being whiny bitches.”

The Ruling Class

Did you hear that Tribune Media is filing for Chapter 11? I saw it on the Chicago Tribune’s web site.

If this is an example of their usual journalistic standards, I’m surprised it took this long for them to go under.

Other random things on my mind include this story from the UK:


Extinguishers banned as a fire safety hazard

Fire extinguishers could be removed from communal areas in flats throughout the country because they are a safety hazard, it has emerged.

The life-saving devices encourage untrained people to fight a fire rather than leave the building, risk assessors in Bournemouth decided.


Ordinarily, I’d post some snarky comment about either irony or the Nanny State tendencies of the English, but I think in this case, a healthy “What the fuck?” will suffice.

And speaking of Lawmakers Gone Wild!, there was this gem a couple of weeks ago:


Florida: A Port St. Lucie boy has been busted after police caught him with a bag of parsley. The 15-year-old was with another 13-year-old boy on their way to a friend's house on Friday morning when they were questioned.

The older boy told police that he planned to trick his friend into thinking his baggie of parsley was really marijuana. He also admitted to smoking the real deal the prior day.

He was arrested and charged with possession of a counterfeit controlled substance with the intent to deliver.


Man, oh man…I hope the cops don’t ever raid my kitchen; I’ve got counterfeit cocaine, counterfeit pot, counterfeit heroin…

I looked up the specific statute that covers this case, and it’s not a crime unless you admit that you were going to try and make someone think it was a real drug. So what was this 15-year-old supposed to say when the police asked “What are you going to do with that baggie of parsley?” Who does this law protect? Legitimate drug dealers? And Florida’s not the only stupid state, Ohio’s got a version of it, too. There was this bit from Akron’s court blotter:


(December 5, 2007, Akron) … Prosecutor Sherri Bevan Walsh announced today that Dexter L. Harrison, 21, of Cliffside Drive in Akron, Ohio, was found guilty by a jury of Aggravated Robbery with a Firearm Specification, a felony of the first degree, Possession of a Counterfeit Controlled Substance, a misdemeanor of the first degree, and Possession of Marijuana, a minor misdemeanor.


Did you see that? The possession of a counterfeit controlled substance is a more serious crime than possession of the real substance. Is this opposite day or something? (And if you tell me “no,” how can I believe you?)

See, lawmakers pass these bizarre statutes, and then expect us to listen to them when they advise us on how to protect ourselves, when we have direct evidence they’re absolutely bug-fuck insane. There was a story recently about a woman from Harlem that had gotten mugged on a subway, then ran down her muggers and grabbed onto one, not letting go until they gave her purse back. The cops "lauded” her “spunk,” but were quick to add that tired old platitude about how “you shouldn't take matters in your own hands like that.” Why not, Officer? Obviously none of the boys in blue were on the subway with her. What else was she supposed to do? I tend to agree with those that cling to their guns when they opine “I carry a gun because a cop is too heavy,” or “When there are only seconds between life or death, a cop is just minutes away.”

I think that’s why movies about vigilantes always do well, because people want to think that in the same situation, they’d have the balls to put things to rights themselves. Boondock Saints taps into that feeling with the newscasts presented throughout the film (especially in the credits). Batman is a vigilante with “wonderful toys”, the new Bond goes off the reservation any time it’s convenient, Jason Bourne is a rogue agent, Dirty Harry had his own catchphrase, Charles Bronson had the Death Wish series. People would like to say “Fuck the rules, I’m fixing this.” Especially when the rules state that having fake pot is more of a crime than having real pot.

Express Yourself

I wasn’t going to note this, but since ol’ Erskine is yapping about it…

Bowles suggests blocking hate talk

CHAPEL HILL - UNC-system President Erskine Bowles wants a commission to determine whether every state university campus in North Carolina should establish a university code that blocks hate speech.

(I’ll save you the money, Erskine: No.)

Bowles' decision came less than a month after four N.C. State University students spray-painted political statements, which many deemed racially inflammatory and threatening, on the Free Expression Tunnel on campus.

(On which tunnel?)

Bowles met Tuesday afternoon with leaders of the state chapter of the NAACP. After the meeting, he declared the graffiti hate speech.

"I find this whole incident to be deplorable," Bowles told reporters. "It hurts, and it hurts deeply."

(Says the white guy. Fucking groveler.)

Bowles saw a photograph of one section of the graffiti for the first time Tuesday.

(How out of touch is this guy, to have only seen it now, three weeks after it went boomeranging around the web?)

The graffiti suggested shooting President-elect Barack Obama in the head. It also used a racial slur.

(SAVE US! Someone used a slur! I bet it was some shit-kicking redneck cracker.)

The Rev. William J. Barber II, president of the state NAACP chapter, said the words frightened students and should have been considered a crime. He insisted such language ought not be protected under the United States Constitution's right to free speech.

(If your students are frightened by words, perhaps they’re not ready to be living on their own. The good reverend wants the use of certain words to be labeled a crime, and I’ll bet that “shit-kicking redneck cracker” doesn’t appear on the list. Damn those meddling Founding Fathers and their pesky Constitution!)

The four NCSU students responsible for the graffiti have apologized. The student who instigated the paintings will attend diversity training and do community service. No criminal charges were brought against the unnamed students.

(Diversity training my lily-white ass. If they were serious about being inclusive, the training wouldn’t be used as punishment; they’d appreciate his differing views. Whenever the Left talks about diversity, they mean only the approved classifications they’ve recognized.)



I was curious as to what constituted “hate” speech, so I looked it up:

“Hate speech is a term for speech intended to degrade, intimidate, or incite violence or prejudicial action against a person or group of people based on their race, gender, age, ethnicity, nationality, religion, sexual orientation, gender identity, disability, language ability, ideology, social class, occupation, appearance (height, weight, hair color, etc.), mental capacity, and any other distinction that might be considered by some as a liability.” -Wikipedia

The NC State authorities admit they regularly patrol the Free Expression Tunnel to censor anything they deem to be hate speech. Obviously, given the above definition, they wouldn’t allow anything intended to degrade, intimidate, or incite violence or prejudicial action against a person or group of people based on their appearance (height, weight, hair color, etc.):





or intended to degrade, intimidate, or incite violence or prejudicial action against a person or group of people based on their gender







or intended to degrade, intimidate, or incite violence or prejudicial action against a person or group of people based on their nationality:





or intended to degrade, intimidate, or incite violence or prejudicial action against a person or group of people based on their sexual orientation:



or intended to degrade, intimidate, or incite violence or prejudicial action against a person or group of people based on their occupation:



Obviously, the graffiti against Obama was outside of the norm, which is what must have caused the uproar, because NC State would never allow anything intended to degrade, intimidate, or incite violence:



or intended to degrade, intimidate, or incite violence or prejudicial action against a person or group of people based on their race:





It has to be the office itself that is sacrosanct to the NC State thought police. It was surely their belief that the president deserves respect, and would take the same steps for any administration.





You know, whenever the Left starts preaching about diversity and tolerance, then releases their official list of what comprises those things, it always reminds me of Steve Martin explaining exactly what prizes were available in the “Guess Your Weight” booth in that one movie: Anything on this shelf…from the pencils to the ashtrays, which includes the gum, but not the clock radio.

Bunch of jerks.

Spare Some Change?

I woke up this morning thinking everything would be different, and it wasn’t. Have to say…I’m a little disappointed that our president-elect didn’t live up to his rhetoric. I mean, we still have the housing crisis, the banking crisis, the bailout debacle, trillions of dollars in national debt, a runaway recession, too-high gas prices, a two-front war, and reality television. I expected to be greeted by cartoon birds chirping happily and small forest creatures cavorting on the lawn, where I’d have to dig through a mound of rainbow-colored unicorn poop to get to my paper.

Alas.

Something I do wonder about, though: Everyone kept saying this race wasn’t about race. I heard it from the Right and the Left. Constantly. Everyone kept saying it didn’t matter that Obama was black. It totally wasn’t an issue. Really. Honest.

So why is this election being declared “historic” by everyone? If it wasn’t about race, then we just elected another male politician. No big deal.

But this brings up something I want to bitch about. I don’t know who started it, but the tendency to use the phrase “an historic” election/occasion/etc. annoys the shit out of me. We’re not Cockney, people! We pronounce the ‘H’ at the front of that word. That means you use “a”, not “an”. It’s an hour of a history class. No one is going around saying “an” halibut, so quit saying “an” historical whatever.

The Left has been reveling in the tears of the Republicans all day, and that’s fine. They’ve been choking on their rage for eight years, so they need the catharsis. The Republicans are predicting all sorts of horrific consequences, but honestly, you probably could have made the same predictions if McCain had won. There is no difference between the parties any more. I’m sure we’ll see the Left blaming Bush’s policies for anything that goes wrong in the Obama administration the next four years, just like the Right blamed Clinton’s policies for all of the crap that happened on Bush’s watch. It’s human nature to take credit for all of the good stuff, and find a scapegoat for all of the mistakes.

One particular piece of change I do expect immediately is the cessation of anyone claiming that the white man is holding them back. We’ve have just proven that that is not the case. I also expect Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson to have to go out and get real jobs now, which is why, I suspect, Jesse was really crying last night.

Denis Leary Can Keep His Money

Having a child with autism presents a number of challenges, and requires certain compromises and adjustments. You know the worst thing about it, though? Having Jenny McCarthy as your self-appointed spokeslut.

When Denis Leary recently opined:

"There is a huge boom in autism right now because inattentive mothers and competitive dads want an explanation for why their dumb-ass kids can't compete academically, so they throw money into the happy laps of shrinks . . . to get back diagnoses that help explain away the deficiencies of their junior morons. I don't give a shit what these crackerjack whack jobs tell you - yer kid is NOT autistic. He's just stupid. Or lazy. Or both.",

the former Playmate and serious actress had this to say:

“Whoo! First of all, let me tell you, the autism community has received probably 10,000 emails [saying] ‘Go kill him!’ ‘Go yell at him!’”

Where is this community, Jen? I didn’t get an e-mail. And I certainly didn’t send one in to any central autism depot asking that you be sicced on Leary like some sort of attack stripper. Unwad your panties, put them back on, and go the fuck home. Most of us immediately recognized that the real target of his comments are the parents that lack the energy or foresight to discipline their little horrorshows, so use the autism label like a Get out of social ostracism free! card. Just because some mom at the playground tells me her kid is autistic doesn’t obligate me to treat her words as holy writ. I don’t automatically assume she took him to a specialist for an evaluation. She may know deep down that she’s a crappy parent and just doesn’t want to be called on it.

Leary claimed the standard “out of context” defense, which was probably a safe bet, and has since issued two apologies, which I think was a huge mistake. Other people’s feelings are not his responsibility. According to a recent news blurb, the advocacy group Autism United has graciously accepted his apologies, and has cancelled a planned boycott of his book. But wait…there’s a catch: Leary is expected to either delete the “offending” chapter or donate part of his proceeds to charity. I wonder if there’s any sort of charity for autistics that might want a slice of that. Fucking scavengers. I am so sick of people thinking they’re entitled to someone else’s money because they got their feelings hurt.

The spokesman for Autism United, Mark Anthony Ramirez, said that he was happy to accept Leary’s apology (thank you so fucking much, Ramirez), but figured “his claim that his comments were taken out of context is a veiled attempt to elicit more sales.” Or he may have felt that his comments were actually taken out of context, you idiot.

Ramirez goes on to say "As a parent of a child with autism, I feel he owes the autism community the money he is making for using what has quickly become an epidemic in our country as a cheap ploy to sell his book. He should donate a portion of his sales to assist children with autism."

How about this, Ramirez: As a parent of a child with autism, I feel Leary is entitled to keep every fucking dime he makes off of his book. You think he’s being mean? Write your own damned book. Having an autistic kid doesn’t entitle you to anything. Take care of your kid and ignore what other people say. That is…if your kid really does have autism.

See, I know my cub doesn’t have an agenda. He’s not working the system or taking advantage of the sympathy of strangers. He’s three. And if he starts to throw a fit while we’re out in public, I take him back to the car so no one else has to ride it out with us. I’ve left many a hot dinner behind so Mrs. Cat and Kitten (and the other patrons) could eat in peace. I even keep a book in the car to pass the time after Cub calms down so the rest of the family doesn’t feel obligated to bolt down their dinner to come relieve me. I could explain it to everyone in the restaurant and expect them to put up with it, but why? What does that do except annoy people? I think that’s how you can tell the fakers from the rest: they don’t act to improve the situation.

Look…all kids are different, and most kids are weird, but so-called “Autis” are differently weird. You just have to learn your child’s rhythms and patterns, and work within the framework they give you. One thing you learn real fast with an autistic child is to keep a sense of humor, because they will try your patience. They’re like every other child that way, just more intense about it. I saw a t-shirt that I think nicely sums up the proper parental attitude:

Autism rocks! And flaps, and spins, and hoots, and…

Currying Favor

There was an article in the local paper today about a new seafood restaurant opening. Normally, I enjoy going to new restaurants, but I think I'll skip this one. See, the place was closed by the local Health Department after an outbreak of e. coli last year. While that's not too unusual, the article went on to explain the source of the outbreak. Apparently, the employees took it upon themselves to slaughter a goat in the kitchen about a week before the first customer got sick.



They slaughtered a goat. In the kitchen.

Goats?

I did some digging on Google, and it turns out that the surname of the restaurant owner is Greek in origin. Goat is a popular dish in Greece, so I figure it was a dish being privately prepared for the owner's family, much like the urban legends of Chinese restaurant freezers being stocked with puppies. Dishes with dog meat are somewhat of a delicacy in China, and wouldn't be wasted on Americans. I don't have a problem with a restaurant owner wishing to use his kitchen for preparing private meals, what bothers me is that there was a week between the goat being prepped and the first outbreak. That implies a certain laxity in cleaning procedures, which worries me.

The article stated the owner hoped the incident would be forgotten. Since this was the front-page, above-the-fold story today, that's not too likely.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, I was recently at a Wendy's that had received a sanitation rating of 102%. How do you do that? Did they give the inspector a sponge bath when he came in?

Fringe, Furries and Phobias

Well, I hit the wall with Fringe. The thing that got me was the fact that no matter what creepy or unusual thing was going on, the scientist – Walter – had worked on something similar in the past. It’s a little too convenient. I don’t mind formulaic shows, but that’s stretching it. Since this is the third J.J. Abrams project I’ve taken a chance on, I can officially write him off as being overrated.


Speaking of Tuesday night programming, I read that the newest character on House, the private investigator, is supposed to be getting his own show. I don’t know if that would be a good thing. I like his interaction with House, but I’d have to see more to decide if he could sustain his own vehicle. Couldn’t be any worse than Psych, at any rate.


In other TV news, I read an interesting article that gave a way of determining if a TV show will be cancelled. Each network tracks that all-important 18-49 demographic, so if a show regularly pulls in a number of 18-49 year-olds that is at least 92% of the station’s average 18-49 demographic, that show will most likely stay on the air.


Anybody else think that maybe Maurice Sendak is a closet furry? I mean, Max dresses as a wolf in Where the Wild Things Are, and the Little Bear series has Emily (a human girl) “marrying” Little Bear (a bear) the first day they meet, not to mention the episode where Skunk is upset because no one will kiss him.


I saw where the National Federation of the Blind is upset over the new movie Blindness, because it “portrays the blind as monsters.” No, it doesn’t. It portrays formerly-sighted people who are struck blind, and react with fear and anger; that much is clear from the trailer. The NFB is calling for a boycott of the movie. Isn’t encouraging blind people not to see a movie somewhat redundant?


I did a typical “man thing” recently, and cleaned out the garage. It actually turned out to be a lot easier than I’d feared. Like a lot of old houses, we have our share of insect-life that shares residence with us. This varies by region, of course. In our case, we have camel crickets (also known as cave crickets). These critters are like the bastard children of crickets and spiders.


Look at it. LOOK AT IT!

Thing is…I’m a teeny bit arachnophobic. I’ll be rooting through a box in the attic, and one will jump into view. A small part of me notes that yes, it’s another camel cricket. This part is usually being drowned out by the Ohshitohshitohshit! part that sees the front legs and immediately slots it into the SPIDER! category. So it’s been a cardiac adventure ever since we moved in.

Anyway…as long as I know they’re there, no problem, so I was okay in cleaning out the garage, where boxes and bags had been accumulating for thirty years. What I hadn’t counted on was how hyper these things are. I was pushing the broom around, gently nudging them outside as I worked, when one bounced off me and landed behind a bag which apparently concealed a well-established colony of them.

It was like dropping a ping pong ball into a room full of mousetraps.

The crickets exploded from behind the bag, all shades and sizes. It felt like I was in a pinball machine during the fucking Multiball round. My wife found me in the fetal position on top of a bag of pine chips a few hours later.

But the garage looks great!

Je ne sais quoi

You know that instance where someone says something cutting to you, and you can’t think of a good retort until much later? Turns out there’s an expression for it: l’esprit de l’escalier. It means ‘the spirit of the staircase’, which is a perfect image – two people passing on the stairs. The French, though utter shitheads in many ways, do have a gift for encapsulating the human condition(s) with pithy phrasing. I think this is one of the reasons writing can be so satisfying, because as the author, you can give your characters the perfect one-liner, insult, or rationalization with no filler words, stammering, or having to resort to ‘Oh yeah?!’

There are two types of Prius owners: those who just want to save money on gas, and those who want everyone to know they drive a Prius. I was at a drive through today when another car pulled up beside me. The man driving asks “What kind of mileage are you getting out of that Matrix?” “About 27,” I reply. He shakes his head sadly. “Bummer.” Then he smirks and drives off, and I see the model plate. What a prick. Is there any wonder the derogatory name for the car is the Pious? Have any of these assholes considered how the electricity for their hybrid is generated? Chances are pretty good it’s a plant that burns some sort of petroleum product. When your vehicle is powered by a wind-driven flywheel, you can be smug. Until then, fuck off.

Anyone else notice the change in the framing of the Global Warming argument? When it first became an issue, proponents insisted it was all the fault of human activities. They maintained this position adamantly, despite the fact that other planets in our solar system also demonstrated temperature gains. You know…the planets without people on them? Anyway, somewhere along the line, they dropped the anthropogenic codicil, and now just talk about Global Warming. It’s sneaky, because I know they still think Man caused, and can fix, the ‘problem.’ If I agree that the world is heating up, I know they’ll think I agree with them as to the cause. If I dispute the underlying cause, I get filed under ‘denier’ in their tiny mental filing cabinet, and all progress stops. It’s cause and effect, you idiot. Two separate things. You can agree on the effect and disagree on the cause.

I saw Righteous Kill the other day. I hate the fact that this was the script that brought DeNiro and Pacino together for the ‘first’ time. If they hadn’t been the leads, it wouldn’t have made half as much as it has. And it was kind of disturbing to watch DeNiro have sex with Carla Gugino, even if it was almost entirely implied rather than shown. DeNiro may be a great actor, but he’s no great looker. I cringed at his sex scene with Bridget Fonda in Jackie Brown. Another awful pairing was Nick Nolte and Jennifer Connelly in Mulholland Falls. If you want to have a sexy woman in your movie, fine. If you want a love scene with her, that’s okay, too. But please, Mr. Director, either make it with a good looking actor or use strategic lighting, because we don’t want to associate Miss Connelly with Nick Nolte’s sweaty red face. Ewww.

I forget which car company it is (so obviously their advertising isn’t working), but their latest campaign includes a bunch of covers of Beatles tunes. I don’t know if you know this, Mister Ad Exec, but no one over the age of 14 likes the Jonas Brothers. Number one, their cover is horrible. Number two, no one who likes them can afford your car, or if they can, are not old enough to drive it. Is the ‘overpaid-child-actor-who-wants-to-buy-his-grandmother-a-new-car’ that large a market segment? When your client goes to the government to be bailed out of bankruptcy, your fee better not be a line item. You should have known better.

Books I finished in the last week: Freakonomics – Steven D. Levitt; Little Brother – Cory Doctorow; Men and Cartoons – Jonathan Lethem; The Stupidest Angel – Christopher Moore.

Books I’ll finish this week: The System of the World – Neal Stephenson; Blue Mars – Kim Stanley Robinson; Three Days to Never – Tim Powers.

Books I’ll start next week: A Game of Thrones – George R. R. Martin; The Big Book of Pulps – Black Lizard; Killer in the Rain – Raymond Chandler.

(Why yes, I am currently unemployed, why do you ask? Actually, how I spend my daytime hours doesn’t affect my reading rate. I am a voracious reader, and keep four or five books going continually. I replace my library cards faster than my debit cards.)

Song I currently have on Repeat: “Something About You” by Level 42.



And you? How have you been?

Video Killed the Radio Star

You a Buggles fan? Oh, well.

I decided to try out this fancy “embed” option from YouTube just to highlight a few of my favorite videos.



“Paralyzer” – Finger Eleven

An impressive video for a groovy tune. I like the atmosphere of the empty street with the neutral color palette. I think the casting is good, especially the girl, who really isn’t "pretty" or "sexy" as those are usually defined by music videos, but has an intriguing face (wholly appropriate to the lyrics). I absolutely love the simple editing tricks that make it look like a whole group of dancers can spontaneously explode from her body. If I could choose a superpower, that one would be high on the list.





“Pipe Dream” – Animusic

You may have already seen this in your e-mail Inbox, as it was passed around quite a bit (and even has its own Snopes entry - http://www.snopes.com/photos/arts/musicmachine.asp). I think the popularity of this piece comes from the fact that it seems so darned plausible. That…and the fact that it’s just cool.




“Starship Groove” – Animusic

Another awesome video from the Animusic team. Not only is it a great tune, but I really like the idea of a ship sailing through the galaxies on no other mission than to boogie.




”Resonant Chamber” – Animusic

Last one from Animusic (though there are two DVDs worth, with a third on the way). The articulated parts of this machine remind me of H.R. Giger’s work, which I like as much as the tune. The Animusic team takes as much care with sound effects and atmosphere as they do with the central animations and the music, and that’s what makes these videos really pop.




”Bathroom” – The Umbilical Brothers

I found these guys after they showed up on Noggin as “The Upside Down Show,” which my three-year-old loves. Okay…I do too. They had an off-Broadway show called “Thwack” a few years ago, and have been doing this kind of comedy for about a decade now.




“Tap Dance” – The Umbilical Brothers

Another fun clip. The “brothers’” sketch comedy is well-planned, as they make use of camera perspective and physical effects to augment their physical efforts.




The Shining trailer remix

There are lots of these type of remixes floating around. Some are good, most are terrible. This is one of the first I saw, and is still one of the best (in my humble-yet-correct opinion).



Cello “Final Countdown”

Pure. Gold.

Just Wondering

Why is it that when people start decrying “gas-guzzlers,” they always pick on the soccer moms in the huge SUVs or the questionably-endowed Hummer drivers? No one ever brings up the Greyhound bus-sized RVs that usually only have a single retired couple in them. Those things get worse gas mileage than a Navigator in Neutral with a brick on the accelerator.

There’s a sign outside my local pharmacy that promises prescriptions “while you wait.” As opposed to what? Your shoving the pills down my throat when I walk in? The whole “while you wait” thing no longer has relevance. Back when you’d order goods and have to wait for the next trans-Atlantic shipment to bring them, being able to tailor a suit (for example) within an hour made it a good marketing hook. Today, however, we expect that you already have the stuff in stock and our waiting will be minimal, so advertising it is redundant.

If I vote for the Republicans this November, I’m being racist, but if I vote for the Democrats, I’m being sexist. This is what happens when your whole deck is nothing but Victim cards. Now what?

If you find an S&M magazine in your child’s room, would a spanking deter or encourage them?

The legal profession is frustrated by the fact that today’s juries expect “Law & Order” type trials. Maybe they should stop with the bullshit torts like tobacco settlements and McDonald’s coffee injuries, or at least send the lawyers to a couple of Drama classes. Would that help?

Will the next reality show go meta, and follow a group of reality show watchers?

I read a quote from a member of the American Association of Advertising Agencies saying the profession needed better exposure than just “Mad Men.” You mean swamping us with more advertising per minute than any other country isn’t enough? Putting ads in elevators, on grocery store conveyor belts, in one-fifth of every television hour, on urinal screens, on taxis and buses, on billboards, on recorded hold messages, in magazines, in movies, on the radio, in the newspaper, in sports stadiums, by third-class direct mail, in comic books, in text messages, in pop-up ads, in e-mail spam, in the doctor’s office, and in point-of-sale displays isn’t getting you noticed? Or do you mean better exposure, meaning that 99% of your efforts are either crap that we forget immediately, or are so disingenuous that you’re placed in the Used Car Salesman category, and you want an improved image? Who is the burden on, here? (Hint: Not us.)