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Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Jim Fusilli And The Misfit Culture
Jim "Fusilli Jerry" Fusilli is an accomplished author. He also For Jim, the darker the soul of the musician the higher the praise for their work. In a piece in today's Journal titled Thirty Years Later and Better Than Ever he continues in this vein by heaping even more praise on the dark mistress Patty Smith and celebrates her supposedly classic album "Horses". "When we did 'Horses,' my mission was to do a piece of work that would remind people that rock 'n' roll was a cultural voice that contained everything -- the political, sexual, social -- and it belonged to the people, not rich rock stars and businessmen," the 59-year-old Ms. Smith told me via telephone from her home in New York City's SoHo neighborhood. "I wanted to address people on the fringe of society because of how they dressed or their sexual identity. I wanted to do it in a spirit of solidarity." A socialist's rock opera if you will. There's very little about "Horses" that isn't striking. Its studied, defiant photographs of Ms. Smith by Mapplethorpe suggest the arrival of an artist aware of her substance. Its opening lyric -- "Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine" -- is rock's equivalent of the opening lines of Allen Ginsberg's "Howl," establishing a distinctive voice and attitude in a single phrase. Ensuing songs portray a high-voltage lesbian sexual encounter, a boy confronting his father's death, a girl who commits suicide on a gay beach... My. That does sound like fodder for the soul after a long, hard day of work. I can see why Jim is so effusive in his praise. Music does not need to be all puppy dogs and ice cream, but must the fringe freaks like Smith be canonized as geniuses for this dreck? This is entertainment that a normal person would want to bring into their life? Why on earth would anyone want to enter Smith's pathetic teenage world of nihilism? Only someone who believes that American society is corrupt (if not downright evil) would promote the work of a misfit weirdo like Smith. Jim goes to on to remind us that Patty was not a one suicide record wonder: She resumed recording in 1988 and eight years later released another masterwork, "Gone Again" (Arista), a quiet, stirring reflection on her husband's death. Mr. Smith died of heart failure at age 45. They should have released these two records together as a box set, with a complimentary noose for the listener to end it all after sitting through this rubbish. Why a paper with the highest quality standards in the business would continue to print this kind of alternative culture horse-hockey is beyond me. Attention WSJ editors: Your readers are not weirdoes. Or freaks. Or alternative culture practitioners. Please adjust your music coverage accordingly.
Come Children, Do Not Be Afraid
What would you think of a web page that: A. Looks like it was designed in 1997? B. Is devoted to the cult of Gary Gaetti? And... C. ...also worships Jeannie's Restaurant in Grand Forks, North Dakota, Ronnie James Dio, Space Ghost, drinking, some of the best dive bars in Grand Forks, Mystery Science Theater 3000, hockey, Phil Hendrie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Spinal Tap, and Don Cherry (among other things)? I may be a bit biased given my five year stint in The Forks back in college and my admiration for Gaetti during his days as a Twin, but I thoroughly enjoyed scrolling through the strange world of The Gary Gaetti Cült of 514 Cottonwood. Thanks to Henry for hepping me to it. As an added bonus, you won't want to miss the The Jeff Dubay and Doug Woog Local Media Hall of Shame page either.
A Simple Plan
According to the hash that the Dems have been slinging, one of the reasons that we haven't been victorious in Iraq is the lack of a grand master plan. Never mind the countless speeches by President Bush and other senior administration officials laying out why victory in Iraq is critical, what they believe that victory will look like, and how we can achieve it. Or the numerous interviews and articles by these same people covering the same ground. Nope, that wasn't enough. We needed "a plan." Well, now we have one, called The National Strategy For Victory in Iraq. And it has a spiffy multi-color title page to boot. I imagine that the release of the thirty-eight page document that Democrats have longed for will give them pause in their relentless criticism of the war. Yeah, right. We've got a plan, but that won't be good enough (because the truth is that nothing would). What will they demand next? "A PowerPoint presentation! We need a PowerPoint presentation showing how we're going to win in Iraq. The administration has failed miserably by not having a PowerPoint presentation." Note to the administration's PowerPoint guru: Be sure to include lots of animation and slide transitions to keep Barbara Boxer interested.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Friday's Wall Street Journal contained a interesting review of Marc Weingarten's book, The Gang That Wouldn't Write Straight: Wolfe, Thompson, Didion, and the New Journalism Revolution, by Kyle Smith called When Facts Were Beside the Point:
The Gang That Wouldn't Write Straight" is a celebration of what Tom Wolfe dubbed "the New Journalism," which in the 1960s and 1970s brought to fact pieces the flair of fiction. Unfortunately it often brought the making-up-stuff part as well. Mr. Weingarten admires writers like Mr. Wolfe (whom he credits with inspiring the book), Norman Mailer, Hunter S. Thompson, Michael Herr and Jimmy Breslin, each of whom gets one or more chapters extolling his steady rise and eventual triumph amid the barking of tight-fisted editors. Despite Mr. Weingarten's reverent tone, close readers may find themselves growing uneasy, if not alarmed, by what he reveals. Mr. Herr, the author of the lauded Vietnam memoir "Dispatches" (1968), wrote his editor that the war "goes deeper than anything my generation has known, even deeper, I'm afraid, than Kennedy's murder. No matter when it ends or how it ends, it will leave a mark on this country like the trail of slime that a sand slug leaves." A valid opinion, possibly. But he wrote these words before he left for Vietnam. Does impartiality matter? Maybe not. New Journalists make their subjectivity part of the show. Does the reference to Kennedy's murder suggest a paranoid streak? Maybe that doesn't matter either. But three pages later, when Mr. Herr's story about an unidentified general "seen... leaving the house of a famous courtesan" is questioned by his editor at Esquire, Mr. Herr writes back in a huff: "He's fiction -- I hoped that that would be obvious." Huh? Yet Esquire editor Harold Hayes "signed off on it," Mr. Weingarten tells us. What happened here? Did Esquire print these stories with a headline reading: "Warning: some facts not actually true"? How many other fictional elements appeared in the work of Mr. Herr, a man (in Mr. Weingarten's words) given to "inventing composite soldiers whose personas were stitched together from what Herr observed during many zonked-out late-night bull sessions over cheap scotch and locally procured marijuana"? Should "Dispatches," which resulted from Mr. Herr's Esquire reporting, be reshelved in the fiction department? I read "Dispatches" some years ago and, since it was not presented as anything but straight reporting, I took it as such. Apparently this use of "composites" is a regular feature of New Journalism. We learn that "composites" -- New Journalese for "fictional characters" -- appeared regularly in Esquire, whose "best nonfiction writers were pushing their reportage into murky territory where creative interpretation mingled with straight documentation." Ah, to push into murk: the goal of every journalist. Or do only hero-journalists get to do that? Mr. Weingarten doesn't say. Nor does he linger on the fancies of Mr. Breslin, the author of "The Gang That Couldn't Shoot Straight," the novel that suggested Mr. Weingarten's title. Mr. Breslin's colleagues at the New York Herald Tribune believed his columns about New York street life "too good to be true"; his editor described his work as full of "wild, crazy fabulations" but continued to run it. Remember this the next time you hear that canard about the superior credibility of the mainstream media because "they've got editors." What's truly disturbing about this "creative interpretation mingled with straight documentation" of New Journalism wasn't just that these writers were often playing fast and loose with the truth, many of these "New Journalists" were also employing these dubious techniques to push their own political agendas in hopes of "making a difference." It isn't Mr. Weingarten's purpose to fact-check the leading journalists of the 1960s and 1970s, though some young reporter out there could make a splash doing exactly that. He is content to gather and flesh out a lot of the oft-told tales about how these scribe-gods made their names. But in his telling there seem to be two kinds of New Journalist: those, like Mr. Wolfe, Gay Talese and Ms. Didion, who write like novelists because they have done so much research that they nearly achieve a novelist's omniscience; and those who have done just enough research to cover up their lies. I gotta believe that a young reporter (or very motivated blogger) could make just as big (if not bigger) a splash by fact-checking the leading journalists of today, especially a local columnist or two who've made careers out of their "man on the street" or more accurately "man in a bar" reporting. It would be interesting to find out if these men (and women) were actually real people or merely composites or even complete fabrications. Truth may be stranger than fiction, but fiction's much easier to fit into your storyline. Labels: Media-National (02-06)
Monday, November 28, 2005
There's something deeply wrong with the city of Minneapolis on almost every level. We are all aware of what the leftist political class has done to the jernt and is usually where the action is in terms of posting material, but the culture of Minneapolis is in so many ways so weird, so antagonistic to normal values, so juvenile (save for experimental theatre--Mitch Berg loves the experimental theatre (!)) that it is interesting once in a while to see what that culture produces.
This review of a recent performance by a local rock band had me in stitches from it's unintentionally funny description of the lead singer's depression and how this was supposed to be something musically inspiring: ...Between singer/songwriter Darin Wald's battle with depression (which formed the basis for all of the songs on Suicide Note Reader's Companion)... BDR followed up with "Seven Hours," a slow-starting acoustic song detailing Wald's hospital admission ("Took a vacation to the state hospital/My sister came to pick me up/Take the meds from a paper cup") Wald's reserved stage presence and his weary vocal delivery reinforces the claustrophobia of a depression spiraling out of control. From losing his sense of self ("Cancer in my bones/I'm tired of this old skin/I don't know how I got here/I'm crucified again" from "Lately") to the fear of losing those around him ("Who'll pay the bills/Just in case I have to stay?" from "Just In Case"), one could feel the pain and alienation that he went through as he relives it on stage. I feel I must again let the writers and musicians of Minneapolis know that I DON'T WANT TO FEEL PAIN AND ALIENATION! I don't want to hear some depressed hipster pouring his soul out on stage. I don't want to hear songs about committing suicide or songs about being admitted to the nut house and no normal, well-adjusted, mature person would either. Depression is a serious illness that often needs to be treated medically, but song fodder it aint. It's just amazing how almost every aspect of Minneapolis is backward, wrong, muddled, confused or just plain weird. Enjoy that experimental theatre Mitch. That and listening to suicide songs in a bar are just another of the joys of city living that I guess I'm missing out on. Labels: That's Entertainment
After a mysterious, lengthy Brando-like hiatus from the world, Michael J. Nelson is back with a couple of new offerings at the section of his web site with the titillating (and for the most part accurate) title Other Things. The time off must have done him good, as Mike is in rare form with a look at how Harper Collins is retouching history as well as his long-awaited "in-depth" review of Dr. Doolittle II:
He brings the bear into the forest to meet Ava and though he is smitten, she thinks he's a geek, no doubt because she suspects he juggles. Now, in order to convince the she-bear that Archie is matrimonial timber, he must show her that he's ready to be "wild." This could have been taken care of rather quickly if Archie had simply turned on Murphy, mauled him, consumed a portion of him, then buried the rest for later. (The audience would have cheered as well.) But instead they begin working on him Eliza Doolittle style (no relation). Unlike Eliza Doolittle, however, converting Archie to a wild bear involves a lot, I mean a lot, of talk about his bowel movements. Now, I enjoy poop talk as much as the next guy (which I assume is not at all) but when the bear eats too much ice cream, starts to suffer extreme gastric distress and says about a restaurant toilet, "It's not gonna be big enough!" well, I start to regret my last meal. And when Murphy himself says, "I have to give my sphincter a little pep talk," I begin to regret that I ever ate anything, ever. Later, when Murphy describes in nearly subatomic detail how the bear has to eat hair and moss to plug up his, um, digestive system, I begin to wonder if I'll stop vomiting during the current administration or sometime in the middle of the next. If you like what you read there, you'll definitely want to tune in this Saturday to the Northern Alliance Radio Network Show (noon to 3pm streamed live on the 'net) when Mike will join us in the third hour. If you have a question for Mike or just want to talk about why he sucks, give us a call. Labels: NARN (04-05)
Pro-war In Madtown?
From deep within the One veteran, Jake Kraschnewski, spent seven months as a Marine in Iraq, primarily based out of the city of Yusifiyah. He is frustrated by the poll numbers. "90 percent of the stuff [in the media] is five army soldiers killed in blast, 30 civilians dead," Kraschnewski said, "It seems like that is the only stuff that makes the news." The media, Kraschnewski said, portrays Iraq as far more dismal than it really is. "It wasn't everyday we were there people were dying, it wasn't like that at all."
Vikings 24--Browns 12
Timberwolves 89--Cavaliers 85 Too bad there's not an NHL team in Cleveland or the Wild would surely have soundly beaten them this past weekend as well. Labels: Football
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Following a collision between his snowmobile and a tree, dopey looking blogger Hugh Hewitt and...
...following a collision between his mouth and a hockey puck, dopey looking blogger Chad The Elder? Labels: Separated At Birth
Saturday, November 26, 2005
And I'll Bet He Enjoyed A Fine Smoke With It
From this morning's WSJ: The dollar has been down, the demand for single-malt scotch has been up, and where supplies are limited to what's left after many decades in the barrel, prices have soared to giddy heights. A bottle of the most expensive whiskey on the market -- the Dalmore 62 -- sold for $55,000 six months ago, up from a still far-from-shabby $40,000 in 2002. A bottle of Macallan 1926 single malt that traded for about $1,500 when it was first released in 1988 now runs north of $35,000. Dang. Dalmore 62 for $55k. It's hard to imagine what a $55k Scotch would taste like but it's fun to imagine. A big shooter in England was able to find out earlier this year: One advantage of collecting rare whiskey is that it is likely to become rarer still as others fully indulge their expensive tastes by actually tasting the goods. The Pennyhill Park resort hotel outside London bought one of the 12 bottles of Dalmore 62 to display at its swanky bar. Earlier this year, a middle-aged businessman paid about $55,000 to have the bottle brought to his table and opened. He and a few friends drank it in one sitting. And here's to them! Agreed. Here's to the middle-aged businessman in London who enjoyed almost $60k worth of Scotch. I will probably never taste the Dalmore 62. The closest I will come to experiencing what this man had is when I get my bill after several hours of drinking at Keegans. Salud!
Friday, November 25, 2005
Have You Ever Seen A Squonk's Tears?
My wife is a crafty little devil. Last night upon returning from the Thanksgiving Day Feasting she informed me she was going to rise at an ungodly hour this morn and attempt to score a laptop at one of several local discounters. I attempted to poo-poo this idea based on the melees I heard about last year at Best Buy and from the simple fact that she is preggo, but she was having none of it and insisted that the chance to save 400 bones on a laptop doesn't come along often. Being that my cheapness is bested only by the Cheapest Man In The World (The Nihilist in Golf Pants) I decided to let her venture out in the 12 degree weather at 3 am, but only if she went to my beloved WalMart and could stay inside. The little thing got to Wally at 3:20 and discovered that the laptops were going to be sold back at the layaway area. She was the 11th person in line and proceeded to take a seat on the floor with her fellow WalMart lovers for the next hour and a half. Shortly before 5, the manager announced that they would be selling 15 Hewlett Packard laptops that normally sell for ~$800 for $378, besting the Best Buy laptop deal by a buck. She happily waited another half hour for those in front of her to be rung up and to complete her transaction. She returned triumphant this morning shortly after six in time to make my morning coffee and wake me from my warm bed. To say she was excited is a huge understatement so I had her clean the entire condo to work off some of the excess energy as I configured the wireless network to add the laptop. All in all a very productive Black Friday for the Doubtless family. UPDATE: Things didn't go quite so well for customers trying to get laptops at a WalMart in Orlando (via Drudge). More video of the WalMart mayhem (this time in Michigan) here. Good Lord.
If you tempt fate often enough, it's inevitable that you'll end up getting kicked in the teeth. Or taking a hockey puck there.
A while back, the face shield on my hockey helmet broke. I've been wearing a full-shield ever since I received a stick induced gash on my face playing roller hockey about seven years ago. A lot of blood, a trip to the emergency room, stitches, and a scar were enough to convince me that playing without a full-shield was fool hardy. So I planned to replace my recently broken shield at the soonest available opportunity. Soonest available opportunity being whenever I got around to ordering a replacement on the internet. In the meantime, I played a few times sans shield without incident. I happened to mention this to JB the other day and he advised me that he had an extra shield available that he was not planning on using. Yesterday, he handed off said shield to me at our Thanksgiving gathering. By the time we got home last night I was exhausted after a grueling day of eating, drinking, and being merry. My plans called for a little pick up hockey on Friday morning to work off the rust built up after not skating for a few weeks due to my recent traveling. Before I hit the sack last night, I briefly considered the idea of installing the shield. Nah, I thought, I'll skate without one tomorrow and put it on before my game on Sunday. So this morning it goes down like this. Guy on the other team is in the corner with the puck. I skate toward him with my stick extended so I can block any attempted pass. He does attempt to pass and I do block it with my stick. Actually it was more of a deflection with the puck leaving the ice and drilling me on the upper lip. Pain. Blood. Teeth? At first, I thought I lost my front teeth. But I couldn't feel 'em loose in my mouth and I couldn't see 'em on the ice either. I went to the bench and grabbed a towel to stem the flow of blood. One of the other guys who was playing was a doctor. He checked my mouth and recommended that I get stitches. And see a dentist. My teeth weren't gone. But a few had been pushed further back in my mouth by the impact of the hard rubber biscuit. And one had been fractured. The nice thing about the emergency room in the morning is that you don't have to deal with the usual late night suspects or the long wait times. I was able to get right in and received excellent care from the crew at Methodist Hospital in St. Louis Park. Wife and son met me there and Nathaniel was quite interested in watching dad get sutured up. After being injected with enough Novocain to make an elephant comfortably numb, I received three stitches on the outside of the lip and five on the inside. And a prescription for Percocet. I was a little disappointed that I didn't get the good stuff that got Favre hooked (Vicodin), but, after having your upper lip rearranged by a hockey puck, any painkiller is a good painkiller. Target wasn't particularly crowded considering it's "Black Friday" (a light snowfall may have dampened shoppers enthusiasm) and I was able to score my Perc without undue hassle. I also picked up "The Simpson's" Season Six DVD since it was priced at a mere eighteen bones and I figured I might have significant couch time over the next few days. My appearance drew more than few odd stares at Target, enough so that I was tempted to go John Merrick on them and start screaming, "I am not an animal! I am a human being! I...am...a man!" I'm at home now and the 'Cain is beginning to wear off. It'll soon be time to start riding the Perc Train. More later (including a pic) if time and consciousness permits. Labels: Hockey (02-05)
Thursday, November 24, 2005
On this day of giving thanks to God for our many blessings, John Derbyshire reminds us all to include a line item for this unique time and place in history we are all inhabiting:
The sum total of those reflections is that I have been living in a golden age that will soon end. Born between VE Day and VJ Day, I missed all the greatest horrors of the 20th century. If granted a normal lifespan, I shall miss the horrors of the 21st, too. If my parents' generation was the greatest, mine has been the luckiest. For that, in this Thanksgiving season, I give sincere and heartfelt thanks. Amen. We children of Western Civilization in the mid- to late 20th century have been able to eschew the companions nearly all other human beings have had to endure throughout the ages. War, poverty, sickness, mass death, and the stone cold fear that shrouds them all. The absence of these conditions in our lives and the individual liberty that allows us to control the outcomes of our existences blinds us to the reality that the civilization we've enjoyed is not a result of predestination. For our lives right now, we should all be profoundly grateful to God and to the generations previous who had to suffer and struggle to make it possible. And we need to remember, this civilization is not guaranteed to us in the future. We are an historical anomaly. We are living at the summit of a centuries-long, uphill, violent struggle for truth and freedom. And that summit is precarious and subject to the constant gales of base human nature and to nature itself. Derbyshire, ever the fatalist (though a chipper one at that), recounts some of the forces conspiring to expel us into ascent, back to the the terrible constants of history. Nuclear weapons, throughout my lifetime kept safe under guard in just a handful of reasonably well-ordered nations, will be traded for cash in third-world bazaars and smuggled into American cities ready for the day of judgment. (Perhaps they already have been.) Clever new viruses will mutate, escape from labs, or be released... Perhaps the greatest threat is the one we pose to ourselves, in our decadence, short-sightedness, and ignorance of history: Enterprise is being choked off by the Iron Triangle of taxation, regulation, and litigation. France's present, of which we have heard so much comment recently, is our future. Government is hopelessly broken. Though far larger now than in 1957, it does less, and it does that less very badly. Its most elementary functions -- defending our borders, keeping a thrifty eye on the national wealth, apprising us of what our enemies are up to -- are no longer performed to any effect. And the roots of what we do to aid and abet our governmental self-destruction is based on what we are taught: The concept that lay beneath and supported our collective consciousness until recently, the concept that white Europeans, their civilization and their bourgeois culture, were the apex of human achievement, will have been shamed, mocked, and badgered out of existence -- along, of course, with that civilization and that culture. I reflect on the modern Left and their actions, denigrating our traditions and culture at every opportunity. Embracing and aggressively pushing the public policies that weaken our resolve and belief in our own abilities to achieve and overcome the inevitable challenges that will confront us. Their efforts all seem to have the object of sapping the vitality of the golden civilization we've inherited and inhibiting our ability to resist the common causes that have brought down civilizations throughout time. It is depressing and a tragic process. It's ending assumed by even such smart and prescient observers like Derbyshire. I'm not at that point of resignation, yet. And I think my interest in politics (and it's practical application - blogging) and my electoral support of Republicans is, more than anything else, an attempt to resist this process. And for those who are engaged in defending and trying to preserve our civilization (you know who you are), for you I am thankful as well. In other words, Happy Turkey Day, you mugs! Labels: Culture
Ron, played by actor Bari K. Willerford (without the 'stache), the large, bald, flamboyantly homosexual black clerk working at the photo store in the 1996 episode of Seinfeld called "The Package" and...
...the anonymous, large, bald, flamboyantly homosexual black clerk working at the photo studio yesterday at the Southdale Target? I don't have the photos to prove it (for obvious reasons), but seriously, these guys are dead ringers right down to their soft, effeminate voices and mannerisms. It was an uncanny experience when we brought Nathaniel in for his first (and very likely last) holiday photo shoot. I almost wanted to ask the guy if he was doing a bit, but elected not to (again for obvious reasons). A bit of advice for new or would be parents out there: bringing your four-month old baby in to get a holiday picture at a busy retail store on the day before Thanksgiving is not the brightest idea in the world. Live and learn. Here's wishing you and yours a very happy Thanksgiving. Gobble, gobble. Labels: Separated At Birth
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Now Is The Time At Balsawood When We Decorate
Just a few short days ago we had a house full of, well, house stuff. You know the general clutter I'm talking about; the end table overloaded with six month old magazines, the coffee table straining under the weight of a years worth of photographs and several Sunday papers worth of unused coupons and the kitchen countertops covered with unread junk mail and unwanted catalogs. All of that changed Monday when the lovely Atomizerette took a day off from work and...set the snowmen free. Clutter has been replaced by snowmen. We have snowmen with bells. We have snowmen that sing. We have snowmen that play the piano. We have snowmen that skate. We have snowmen, and their cuddly-cute snowwives and snowchildren, on every single available horizontal surface in our home...as well as most of the vertical ones. Our house has literally been overtaken by snowmen and, believe it or not, I am feeling strangely fine with it all. Perhaps my acceptance of the snowpeoples' power grab inside the house has something to do with what I recently did to the exterior. Last year, I complained to the wife about the size of our exterior Christmas lights (insert lame sexual inneundo here). We had those little mini white things that look good on a fern or a potted plant but when applied to something as big as an entire house look rather pathetic. So I complained, and I whined, and I generally made an obnoxious annoyance of myself every single time I had the opportunity to. Apparently, it worked. This year, I had the real deal to work with. She bought me the big husky sized bulbs...the ones that really scream "CHRISTMAS!" rather than meekly suggesting that the holiday season may soon be upon us. So I strung those babies up last weekend. I was so excited about displaying my new lights that I forgot about my tremendously incapacitating fear of heights long enough to climb up on the roof and line the eaves with four full strings of Christmas joy. We even bought the outdoor timer so the neighborhood would not have to endure even one single night without my illuminated homage to the birth of our Lord and Savior. And then I plugged them in. Our home's proximity to the airport now concerns me greatly. I seriously fear the glow from these lights may actually disorient a pilot enough that we will soon be awakened by an errant 727 landing in our backyard. How bright can they be, you ask? Take a look for yourself. Needless to say, any complaints about the number of snowmen scattered about the house will now fall on deaf ears...not to mention blind eyes.
A Call To Arms
If you can't best your opponent on the political playing field, take 'em to court! That's the strategy that Democrats have recently employed against the likes of Tom DeLay and Ron Ebensteiner. And now, we're seeing this same use of the legal system as an extension of politics against one of our fellow MOBsters, Minnesota Democrats Exposed: I need your help. My right to blog anonymously is being challenged through legal maneuvering by Inside Minnesota Politics. Today, representatives from Inside Minnesota Politics contacted Domains by Proxy to again request that my contact information be provided so I can be sued for copyright infringement. I thought this matter had been resolved when I removed the picture in question. But the DFLers behind Inside Minnesota Politics have decided to continue pursuing their lawsuit. This is not about my use of a picture that I properly sourced, but rather it's about Democrats tired of being exposed on Minnesota Democrats Exposed. Through a frivolous lawsuit, Democrats are trying to force Domains by Proxy to reveal my identity. Democrats who can't challenge my fact-based message are now resorting to lawsuits to end my right to blog anonymously. Here's what you can do to help MDE: 1. Tomorrow I will try and establish an anonymous legal defense fund. If I can establish a defense fund, I would ask that you provide a contribution link on your website. 2. If I can't establish a legal defense fund without revealing my identity, then I may ask for pro bono help from a lawyer. 3. Blog on this subject. Blog to protect my right to remain anonymous. Blog to protect the rights of all of the other bloggers who blog anonymously. We understand the desire to blog anonymously and, although we don't go to quite the lengths that MDE does to maintain the veil of anonymity, we will zealously defend his choice to do so, especially against the sort of underhanded tactics being used by Inside Minnesota Politics. If you can help MDE in any way, we urge you to do so. I can think of a lawyer or two or even three with MOB connections.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Lost Weekend
She's baaaack...but still without permalinks. One of my favorite MOB bloggers, Katie at Yucky Salad with Bones, returns from a brief hiatus to report on what's been keeping her away from the keyboard. It's a sordid tale of addiction involving sleep deprivation, shocking lapses in personal hygiene, withdrawal, betrayal, denial, and finally the road to recovery (at least for now). What was this fiendish scourge that almost destroyed a marriage and ruined countless lives? Crack? Meth? Crank? Vanilla extract? You'll have to read the post to discover her secret shame.
Shades of Gray
Wendy Wilde, local Air America radio show host, comments on why she's asking for a tanning salon membership for Christmas this year: ... I actually live in a community that is 50 percent non-White. And I'm not really White, I'm beige, which is kind of a combination of different colors. But you're right -- I'm not a member of a racial minority community. Actually, that comment isn't the preamble to a Christmas list, it's an excerpt from an interview Wendy Wilde conducted last month with failed Minneapolis Mayoral candidate Farheen Hakeem. According to the Minnesota Spokesman-Recorder, they got into an on-air spat about who is keeping it real and Ms. Wilde went on the defensive: Wendy Wilde: But I guess I don't like being told I don't understand, either. I live in a community that has one of the higher crime rates in Minneapolis, and we chose to live there because we wanted our children exposed to a great diversity of people, and all of the cultural benefits that they would gain from that. Farheen Hakeem: Well, good for you! That's good to know. That is a perfect response to Wendy Wilde's bleeding heart sacrificial offer, articulated in other words as "you see what we put up with to live next to you people?!" I'll take Wilde at her word that she's living in a crime-riddled neighborhood (Uptown? Downtown? South Minneapolis? North Minneapolis? The possibilities are endless.) But remember, it's all for the good of the children! Read the Spokesman-Recorder article for an extended transcript of the Wendy Wilde show on which this argument occurred. It's a fascinating look into the conscience of a liberal. But enjoy it while you can, it may be the last time you ever see such a thing in print: Janet Roberts, AM 950 station manager, supports Wilde's position completely, although she said she was very disappointed that the Minnesota Spokesman-Recorder would be printing excerpts of the interview "out of context" and that the station hardly ever releases interviews to the public. "I never would have given you a copy of the show had I known you would use it in this fashion," said Roberts. "I will never give your media outlet another copy of anything, or work with you." Air America Radio, where dissent is crushed and a chill wind silences all debate. Who knows, maybe that policy will improve their ratings? It sure couldn't make them much worse.
They Say These Jobs AIN'T Goin' Boys
We all know what's been happening to the U.S. manufacturing sector over the last few years, right? The media is full of stories (most completely anecdotal in nature) describing how greedy corporations have been outsourcing all the "good jobs" to places like Mexico, India, and China, closing down the factories and "meels" (as John Edwards would say) that made America a great nation, and leaving the average working class American with a dismal future of low-pay, no-benefits jobs at either McDonald's or Wal-mart. The problem with this woeful tale of American manufacturing decline is that those spinning the sad stories have rarely bothered to talk with those firms actually doing the manufacturing. From today's WSJ (subscription required) we learn that the problem is not a lack of jobs, but rather a lack of skilled workers: Difficulty in finding enough skilled workers is hampering the ability of many U.S. manufacturers to serve their customers. Eighty-one percent say they face "moderate" or "severe" shortages of qualified workers, according to a survey by the National Association of Manufacturers and Deloitte Consulting LLP. More than half of manufacturers surveyed said 10% or more of their positions are empty for lack of the right candidates. The shortfall is especially acute in skilled trades, for positions such as welders and specialized machinists. Gaps on the factory floor can make it harder for manufacturers to move quickly to exploit new market opportunities and could hasten the exodus of jobs as more employers hunt for skilled workers outside the U.S. You mean that companies often have legitimate business reasons (like serving their customers) for moving work overseas? The recent survey, based on responses from 815 U.S. companies of varying sizes, found that companies see the biggest shortfall in skilled production workers. Eighty percent of respondents expect those workers to be in short supply over the next three years, while 35% expect a shortage of scientists and engineers. More surprising, 25% said they expect a shortage of unskilled workers over the next three years. John Edwards was right about one thing. There are two Americas: one that wants to work and one that doesn't.
Merchants Are Doin' It For Themselves
Tired of waiting in vain for the City of Minneapolis to respond to concerns about increasing crime, a business association in the Uptown area is taking matters into their own hands: Uptown residents will soon see a more prominent police presence after a series of robberies in the neighborhood, but they won't be provided by the city. The Uptown Business Association will be paying off-duty, uniformed Minneapolis police officers to patrol the area on foot. The officers will cost the association $15,000. The association's Cindy Fitzpatrick said the extra officers were part of a plan to increase security for the upcoming holiday season, and they are not part of a response to the recent robberies. "We wanted to let [people] know Uptown is safe," she said. Yeah, that's exactly the message I'm getting. The neighborhood has been beset by robberies in the past few weeks. One woman was carjacked at gunpoint at the YWCA on Hennepin Ave. S., and another was robbed at gunpoint while with her two-year-old daughter. One of the most important roles for government is to protect the life, property, and livelihoods of its citizens. The City of Minneapolis is failing miserably to fulfill this basic mission of government, so much so that business owners feel the need to take action on their own accord in order to survive. Not exactly the kind of message that's likely to attract future business.
Monday, November 21, 2005
A few weeks back there was an article on the front page of the WSJ about a Montevideo, Minnesota "Family" that took in a New Orleans family destitute because of hurricane Katrina.
Last week the Strib had basically the same story--minus many of the interesting details that the WSJ thinks it's readers are smart enough to handle--but that's not the point of this post. The point of this post is to show what a perfect microcosm the story is for how Minnesota (and MPLS in general) takes in the poor of Chicago, Gary, Vietnam, Russia or wherever with the hope of giving them a new life and where those good intentions often lead to. The story goes like this. A woman and her partner (btw, what did lesbians call their mates in the Old West Days--"pardner"?) offered to take in a mother and a child homeless from the hurricane in New Orleans. They were looking for two, but got eight instead. Apparently thinking that this would be a manageable situation, they added those eight people to the three kids they already had cobbled together from their own various broken marriages (apparently before they both became lesbians, who knows) and tried to make a go of things in Monetvideo. At first, it was fun. Both families had much to learn from each other and the stale cliches taught by Diversity Educators seemed to be holding true. In the first few weeks, the newness of the situation and the excitement of having the town rally around them helped things run smoothly. Donations of clothes, toys, furniture and money arrived every day for a time. At night, Ryan Thornbury, 12, and Esaw Singleton, 11, would sneak out of bed and gleefully play video games. Video games? I thought these people were poor. I guess I need to update my understanding of "poor". But anyway, things went well for the first few weeks until an important disagreement threatened to blow the modern liberal dream apart. But what was the disagreement about? Religion? Politics perhaps? The lesbianism of the host women? Nupe. Having given up her office so Dot could have a bedroom, Tanya had tucked her desktop away in the laundry room so she'd have space of her own to cruise eBay, the online auction site. After finding that the area didn't have radio stations playing the hip hop and rap that they liked, Nicole and Helen wanted to download music from the Internet. Tanya said no, partly to protect the computer from viruses and partly to preserve a teeny area of private space. Nicole and Helen didn't understand. So things started to turn when the poor people demanded Itunes access? Do I understand this right? You might think there would fighting over something a little more substantial like the meager scraps of food in the house with that many poor people, but it was the lack of Jah Rule, Jay Z and D-O to the double G that caused the spat. I'm not sure where access to rap music falls in Maslow's hierarchy of needs, but I'm sure it's right up there. So after this first fight, many more ensued with the police finally coming out for a domestic disturbance call. Now the New Orleans family is moving out of Montevideo...to North Minneapolis. Shortly before Halloween, Nicole Singleton found a Twin Cities church offering a north Minneapolis house rent-free for a year to hurricane survivors. Dot and the kids arrived in the Twin Cities on Oct. 28. Their new home has a large dining room and kitchen and a big yard. The kids, she said, are settling in and enrolled in Minneapolis public schools. The family plans to stay in Minnesota. This story mirrors the overall disaster that rolling out the welcome wagon for the poor has caused the state. Years ago, word got out that Minnesota offered higher than normal welfare and various other entitlement benefits. Soon, Greyhound after Greyhound of poor were rolling in from Chicago, Gary and points unknown. Soon after that Minneapolis got it's infamous moniker Murderapolis and the crime continues unabated to this day (see our colleague Rambix for the latest outrage). You can almost hear the disbelief of the lefty-types who engage in the kind of thinking that has lead us to where we are: "But, but, we had good intentions!" Update: More on this morality tale at Rambix and the Red Star. Labels: Culture
Thanks For The Memory
An excerpt from James T. Como's Branches to Heaven: The Geniuses of C. S. Lewis: When in his prime in the 1940s and when it was his practice to have students, friends, and colleagues to dinner parties at Magdalen College, Oxford, at which much drinking and even more revelry would transpire, Lewis might perform an astonishing parlor trick. Upon being told how horrible it was to remember nothing, Lewis would reply that it was even worse to forget nothing, as was the case with everything he read. Of course, this declaration would be met with incredulity and demands that he put up or shut up. And so he would solicit a series of numbers from the most skeptical guest, these corresponding to a bookcase, a shelf within that case, and a book upon that shelf. The guest would then fetch the specified volume, which could be in any of several languages, open to a page of his own choosing, read aloud from that page, and stop where he pleased. Lewis would then quote the rest of that page from memory. To the pleasure of all present he would, as John Wain saw, show off.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Market Dance
The art of bartering with the wily merchants (mostly women) at the local markets is a skill that a visitor to China is well-advised to pick up and hone as rapidly as possible. At first the process is a little intimidating, but with observation and practice, one can quickly adapt and even come to quite enjoy it, as I did on my recent trip to Shanghai. Typically the exchange goes something like this: Me (pointing to object): How much? Vendor: Oh for you, very special price. She then reaches for the omnipresent calculator, punches in a number that only an utter fool (or U.N. procurement specialist) would pay, and smiling passes it to me. I glance at the figure, smile, shake my head knowingly, input an offer than makes what the Indians got for Manhattan seem generous, and return the calculator. Now the real drama (and fun) begins. She looks at the cipherin' machine and reacts by wailing as if I had just ripped her first (and in China usually only) born offspring from her cradling arms. "No, no, no. This good quality. This good price. I give you discount." She taps in a new, slightly lower number and returns the calculator to me. I glance around, throw my arms out in exasperation, and do my best to pretend to be offended that she would dare try to gouge me with such an insulting price. I raise my offer ever so slightly We go back in forth in this manner for a few more rounds until we she hits the price that I had originally set as my buying point and we have a deal. Or we can't come to agreement and I walk away. At which point she pursues me, grabs me by my arm, and leads me back to the booth to hear her new "final offer." If you want to have any success in these negotiations at all, you must have the will to break off talks and leave the table if you're not making progress. As Kenny Rogers famously advised, you need to know when to walk away and when to run.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Second City Journalism?
From an editorial in today's Wall Street Journal on the possible sale of Knight Ridder: On Nov. 1, Private Capital Management LP, a large shareholder in numerous newspaper companies, wrote to the management of Knight Ridder asking that the nation's second largest newspaper chain "aggressively pursue the competitive sale of the company." Two days later, two other large shareholders seconded the motion. Shortly thereafter, Knight Ridder announced that it had decided to "explore" alternatives, "including a possible sale of the company." It is axiomatic on Wall Street that bear markets beget consolidation. The bear market in the newspaper industry should foretell a spate of mergers and acquisitions. But what if there are no buyers? This is the question that looms over Knight Ridder. Companies that might reasonably be expected to jump at the opportunity to acquire Knight Ridder, like Gannett and the New York Times, have expressed zero interest. New media companies -- Yahoo! and Google -- weren't even called for comment. In the end, it was left to a few Wall Street talking heads to announce interest, which they did by insisting that "big private equity firms" would be the likely buyers, if only to acquire the whole at a discount and then sell off the parts for a gain. This lack of enthusiasm for a company once regarded as a money machine is evidence of how thoroughly the Internet has disrupted media business models. And with broadband now reaching into more than half of U.S. households, disruption has morphed into menace. Comes this shot: Knight Ridder has been publishing mostly second-rate newspapers for as long as anyone can remember. He did say "mostly second-rate" so perhaps his broad brush swipe doesn't include our local KR entity.
All the President's Men II
As the Plame-gate story widens, perhaps the greatest scandal revealed so far is the level of communication going on at the Washington Post between the reporters (Walter Pincus) and the editors (Bob Woodward). The New York Times reports on this critical exchange: "The way [Bob Woodward] describes it, which is he walked by and said something about Wilson's wife being at C.I.A., I have absolutely no memory of it at all," Mr. Pincus said in a telephone interview. "And I think he may say that my reaction was 'What!' " like I was surprised. He now thinks I may never have heard him, and said, 'What?' " And the fate of a nation hangs on an implied punctuation mark. The foundations of journalism of have always been taught as "Who, What, Why, When, Where, and How?" I think the Washington Post needs to take a step back and start teaching "Hunh? What?, Eh?, Pardon? and Whachu talkin' 'bout?" It's the primary political story in the country and the accuracy of the Washington Post coverage hinges on a two sentence conversation held while Bob Woodward doesn't break stride on the way to the caffeteria. It'll be interesting to see how Robert Redford handles this in the movie.
The Corn Field Circuit
While U.S. leaders visit the centers of business and government in China, the Chinese take their message to the heartland. The Chinese ambassador to the U.S., Zhou Wenzhong, hits the campaign trail in Iowa (WSJ-subscription required): Zhou Wenzhong was on the road again, this time in central Iowa, which he calls "a heart state." A silk scarf tossed over his shoulder, the new Chinese ambassador to the U.S. came to fiddle with wooden turkey callers and sniff animal-feed additives, while touting China as a land of opportunity that just wants to be America's friend. It's a hefty challenge, but Mr. Zhou picked his latest destination -- the third state he's visited in four weeks -- with pinpoint care. He came to Iowa, he says, "because this is where America's political battles are settled." One morning on his three-day visit, he traveled with aides in a minibus for a five-hour roundtrip to Cedar Rapids, the district of Rep. James Leach, a Republican who chairs the Asian subcommittee within the House International Relations committee. "It is important to have friends, especially out here," said the 60-year-old Mr. Zhou (pronounced "Joe"), as he passed grain silos and shorn corn fields on a late autumn drive. After years of often ham-handed diplomacy, China is trying as never before to win friends and influence people, not just in Des Moines but in Denver, Schenectady, N.Y., Minneapolis -- and above all, Washington. The reasons are clear. China must maintain its scorching economic growth to pull its massive population out of poverty and become more of a global power. To do that, it must keep the peace with the U.S., its largest trading partner and the catalyst for millions of its jobs. Zhou's attempts to reach out to the folks in flyover land is just one example of the new approach that China is taking to improving its image in the United States: The Chinese government, partly to counter Taiwan's own well-fueled public-relations juggernaut in the U.S., has begun to hire high-priced lobbyists and is bringing in a younger, savvier crop of diplomats to work the halls of the U.S. Congress. Its embassy is reaching out to Washington's many think tanks to solicit guidance, while top diplomats like Ambassador Zhou also work the hinterlands. China's embassy itself will soon become a symbol of the country's new presence in Washington: Since 1979, when the countries normalized relations, Chinese diplomats have worked out of a dreary former hotel. But in April, China broke ground on a new embassy, designed by I.M. Pei and expected to be the city's largest when finished in 2008.
Turkey Town
John from Stillwater writes in with some cogent observations about the Pioneer Press and what passes for journalism at our hometown paper: Thursday November 17, 2005, is the day the St. Paul Pioneer Press officially became a shopper -- The Stillwater Gazette with a Sunday edition. The dominant graphic on the front page of Section A of my beloved hometown paper was of a flock of turkeys. The above-the-fold headline, the grabber that would get people dropping their quarters into Pioneer Press newspaper stands around the city, was "TIME TO TALK TURKEY." Photo and copy took up just under half the total space of the front page. Was this a story about the threat of bird flu? No. Was it a business piece about the turkey business in Minnesota or the economic impact of the "holiday" season? No. An animal rights story? No. Was it a news story of any kind? No. It was essentially a house ad for an article in the PiPress "EAT" Section. It's no coincidence that advertising-wise EAT is a very profitable section for the Pioneer Press. The couple of paragraphs set in up-sized type, next to a picture of the EAT Section to ensure that readers could find it, informed us that people eat a lot of turkey at Thanksgiving time. By turning to EAT we could learn about traditions of "four professional foodies" and a "cornucopia of restaurants" that are alternatives to a homemade Thanksgiving dinner. Heck, the diligent journalists at the Pi Press even dug up some "tasty takeout turkey dinners for easy home entertaining." Let me say here, I love my hometown paper. I have long been a critic of newspapers for failing to market themselves effectively. I think the Pioneer Press emphasis on local news is a spot on strategy for gaining market share against the Strib and capturing a larger share of local advertising. Local coverage also opens the door to a lot of stories that might not otherwise get covered. But love makes one blind, not necessarily stupid; there's a difference between marketing and shilling; and "local, local, local" doesn't have to mean "innocuous, innocuous, innocuous." Is this really what newspapers have to do to survive -- run promos on the front page? If so, sorry, it's not a newspaper; it's a shopper. Does market now determine news "content"? Is the new motto of journalism "All the News You Want to Know?" Is the purpose of the local section to uncover local "news," or is it to make sure that every high school student, athlete and local "personality" gets 15 minutes of fame and the Pioneer Press a place on family refrigerator? Change, is necessary for the Pioneer Press even if uncomfortable for readers like me but still it ought to be change for the better. Making the Twin Cities a one-newspaper town -- one "news" paper and one shopper -- is not for the better.
Friday, November 18, 2005
I Get It, The Label Guy Is Like, Dumb And Stuff!
I have never met anyone who doesn't like Johnny Cash. In fact, I would actually find it refreshing to meet a person and hear them say "You know, just between us, I never really liked Johnny Cash. Average singer. All his songs sounded the same and that dark crap he got into at the end was just pathetic." Now that person would be (mainly, the dark crap at the end WAS pathetic--JRC singing Nine Inch Nails? Please) wrong, but it would at least be nice to hear some divergence of opinion. With the release of I Walk The Line, the critics are already lining up to laud praises on what looks to me to be a lousy movie. I watched the Johnny Cash music special on CBS Tuesday and several scenes from the movie induced my eyeballs to roll. In one, the MIB is in the EVEELL Record Producer/Label Guy's office discussing his next record. The ERPLG is of course played by a fat, sweaty doofus in a bad suit and he is incredously asking "You mean to tell me you wanna make a record in a pen-ee-ten-tur-ee? Are you crazy? The public will never buy it!" I just hate being worked like this by directors. I guess I'm supposed to think "Man, those record label guys were SOO STUPID and Johnny was SOO SMART. What a maverick he was!" The scene was so hackneyed, so cliched so simplistic--I really can't imagine two hours of that.
By The Numbers
The weather is cold and the ground is brown, but, be it ever so humble, there is no place like home. I got back in the Twin Cities this morning and just happened to be on the same flight from Tokyo as the Governor. Don't worry T-Paw. What goes on in Northwest's World Business Class, stays in Northwest's World Business Class. If you happen to be in said World Business Class seating anytime in the near future, you may want to check out the in-flight trivia game that is offered through the personal entertainment system. You'll find yours truly holding down three of the Top Ten scores, including the number one position. I've now been through Tokyo's Narita Airport six times in the last year and my streak of stopping in the Northwest lounge for a beer perfectly poured by Japanese technology remains intact. Six for six baby. Tradition is a good thing.
Nothing Compares To You
In discussions about the President's choices for SCOTUS nominees, you often hear that he promised that he would put forward a justice who was "another Scalia" or "another Thomas." I hate to break it to the conservative base, there isn't anyone else out there like Mr. Antonin Scalia, especially when it comes to his writing. Which is a genuine shame. Here's the man in action from a book review in November's First Things: But in a democracy, it is not the function of law to establish any more social policy than what is fairly expressed by legislation, enacted through prescribed democratic procedures. It troubles Smith, but does not at all trouble me--in fact, it pleases me--that giving the words of the Constitution their normal meaning would "expel from the domain of legal issues . . . most of the constitutional disputes that capture our attention," such as "Can a macho military educational institution dedicated to what is euphemistically called the 'adversative' method admit only men? Is there a right to abortion? Or to the assistance of a physician in ending one's life?" If we should read English as English, Smith bemoans, "these questions would seemingly all have received the same answer: 'No law on that one.'" That is precisely the answer they should have received: The federal Constitution says nothing on these subjects, which are therefore left to be governed by state law. Smith's response is revealing: "We have not been content with this sort of modesty in our law." The antecedent of the pronoun is unspecified, but I fancy it refers to the legal academic community which establishes the permissible boundaries for Smith's thinking, or at least his writing. Many Americans outside that community yearn for this sort of modesty. Indeed, it was something of an issue in the last election. Smith's complaint is that the judges will not have the degree of power "we" would like them to have. Long live the common law! And the conclusion: Steven Smith is a diligent observer of academic correctness. This is evident in the fact that his book has at least as many shes as hes ("So the hiring partner said, 'I'll call you,' did she?")--excluding, of course, those pronouns referring to antecedent proper nouns that are masculine, for which Smith can hardly be blamed. One would never expect Smith to violate the "norm prescribing that religious beliefs are inadmissible in academic explanations." Vining (with appropriate disclaimer) is about as far as one can go without offending the proprieties. Could it be, however, that Smith is inviting, tempting, seducing his fellow academics to consider the theological way out of the quandary--the way that seemed to work for the classical school? As one reaches the end of the book, after reading Vining's just-short-of-theological imaginings followed by Smith's acknowledgment of "richer realities and greater powers in the universe," he (she?) is sorely tempted to leap up and cry out, "Say it, man! Say it! Say the G-word! G-G-G-G-God!" Surely even academics can accept, as a hypothetical author, a hypothetical God! Textualists, being content with a "modest" judicial role, do not have to call in the Almighty to eliminate their philosophical confusion. But Smith may be right that a more ambitious judicial approach demands what might be called a deus ex hypothesi. Broke the mold with that one they did. Broke the mold.  "The 8th Of November" The new Big and Rich CD features a haunting, beautiful ode to the gallant men of the 173rd Airborne who took on 1200 NVA and VC soldiers in the Gang Toi Hills of South Vietnam November 5-9, 1965. Badly out-manned, they managed to more than hold their own while sustaining heavy casualties themselves. Read more about it here and here. THIS is why I love country music. Who is writing anything even REMOTELY patriotic like this on the rock side? REM? Bruce? U2? You'll never hear it out of the rockers, lest they offend their lefty and MOR Putz base. They would want something more "nuanced" or "subtle". The song was written after Big and Rich met one of the soldiers who was there, Niles Harris, and were moved by his story. Said goodbye to his momma As he left South Dakota To fight for the red white and blue He was 19 and green With a new M16 Just doin' what he had to do He was dropped in the jungle Where the choppers would rumble With the smell of napalm in the air Then the Sargent said Look up ahead Like a dark evil cloud 1200 came down On him and 29 more They fought for their lives But most of them died in the 173rd airborne Chorus: On the 8th of November The angels were crying As they carried his brothers away With the fire rainin' down And the hell all around There were few men left standin' that day Saw the eagle fly Through a clear blue sky 1965 The 8th of November Now he's 58 And his ponytail's grey But the battle still plays in his head He limps when he walks But he's strong when he talks About the shrapnel they left in leg He puts on a grey suit over his airborne tattoo And he ties it on one time a year And remembers the fallen As he orders a tall one Swallows it down with his tears Compare the truth and beauty of these words to the lies and vitrol of Bruce Springsteen's take on the war in any number of songs ("To go and kill the yellow man," etc.) and you'll know why country should be the music of choice for every conservative.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
The Low Spark Of Dim Witted Fools
Vice President Dick Cheney finally took a swipe at those who would have you believe that President Bush was the sole inhabitant of this planet to believe that Saddam Hussein was a threat to our well being. In a speech to the Frontiers of Freedom Institute yesterday, Cheney said: The President and I cannot prevent certain politicians from losing their memory, or their backbone- but we're not going to sit by and let them rewrite history. We're going to continue throwing their own words back at them.Now, just who in the world could the Vice President be referring to? Well, here's a smattering of "outrageous distortions" and "lie drenched" claims that just might fill the bill: Howard Dean (1/31/98 on CBC/PBS's The Editors): There are such a thing (sic) as international outlaws. I'm not sure China is one but I'm quite sure Iran and Iraq are.Sandy Berger (2/18/98 Columbus, OH Town Hall Meeting): He (Saddam) will rebuild his arsenal of weapons of mass destruction and some day, some way, I am certain he will use that arsenal again as he has ten times since 1983.Nancy Pelosi (11/17/02 on NBC's Meet The Press): Saddam Hussein certainly has chemical and biological weapons. There's no question about that.Jay Rockefeller (10/10/02 Remarks on the Senate floor): There is unmistakable evidence that Saddam Hussein is working aggressively to develop nuclear weapons and will likely have nuclear weapons within the next five years...we also should remember we have always underestimated the progress that Saddam Hussein has been able to make in the development of weapons of mass destruction.Hillary Clinton (9/15/02 on NBC's Meet The Press): I can support the President. I can support an action against Saddam Hussein because I think it's in the long term interest of our national security.John Edwards (1/7/03 on MSNBC's Buchanan & Press): Serving on the Intelligence Committee and seeing day after day, week after week, briefings on Saddam's weapons of mass destruction and his plans on using those weapons; he cannot be allowed to have nuclear weapons. It's just that simple.For even more of these outright lies and misleading claims, please visit the RNC website and check out the Democrats: Dishonest on Iraq video. Those who once agreed with the President may just surprise you.
Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?
You know one of things that I'm really going to miss when I get home is my daily dose of the Shanghai Daily. It's a treasure trove of interesting and unusual material. Here is my favorite example from today's paper. More eateries sue over bad reviews: THREE more eateries are lining up to sue zSurvey.com, a Website that publishes restaurant reviews by ordinary consumers, saying some of the comments from one reviewer went too far, and were insulting. Last week, a court heard suits filed by two other restaurants against the Website. The suits are all based on "venomous" reviews from one consumer, who goes by the online name "Old Dinner Bucket." Wasn't he a guitarist for Guns N' Roses at one point? Yang Wei, chairman of San Lin Tang, which filed a lawsuit with the Xuhui District People's Court yesterday, said that on June 23, 2003, Old Dinner Bucket published a pair of couplets on the Website saying the restaurant was "heartlessly murdering customers for their money" and expressing his hope it would soon go out of business. That does have a little bite, doesn't it? "The couplets are so venomous that they aren't only a comment about the dishes and restaurant environment, they are a personal insult," said Yang. While zSurvey.com has deleted the "insulting words," the restaurant's lawyer has kept a copy of the original page, and had it notarized. San Lin Tang is seeking 50,000 yuan (US$6,173) in compensation and a public apology, the same demand Kongjia Garden and Hong Yun Lou made in suits heard last week. They've set their sites on more than just zSurvey.com too: Wu Hualiang, the lawyer representing all three of the eateries, said he has asked the Shanghai Public Security Bureau to search for Old Dinner Bucket, so the reviewer can be added to the suits as a defendant. Round up the usual suspects. You know, the guys writing withering social commentary in their underpants. "A Netizen must live in the real world, no matter what name he or she uses," Wu said. You mean there is living, breathing person behind the Nihilist In Golf Pants moniker? Be afraid, be very afraid. Wu said China's Internet Information Service Management Regulation bans Websites from publishing and spreading insulting information, and says they can be held legally accountable for such statements. Even if they're true? He argues that zSurvey didn't check the comments on its site carefully and even referred to Old Dinner Bucket as a gourmet, so the company helped in defaming the restaurants. Now I know where I heard that name before. I saw Old Dinner Bucket on Iron Chefs a while back. By the way, all the meals I've had so far in China have been quite good. Top notch all the way. No complaints. No sir, you won't find any venomous reviews or personal insults here at Fraters Libertas. We'll leave that to the Old Dinner Buckets of the world. Especially when it may cost us fifty large RMB.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Migration Pending
China confirms first human bird-flu death: THE Ministry of Health yesterday confirmed the first human death from the H5N1 bird flu in China. The ministry also confirmed another human case of the disease and reported a suspected case. A female farmer in Anhui Province, who developed a fever and pneumonia-like symptoms on November 1, died from breathing problems on November 10. The ministry confirmed yesterday she had contacted the bird flu virus. Several chickens and ducks she kept at her home died one to two weeks before she became ill and she had contact with sick and dead birds, the ministry said. The ministry also confirmed yesterday that a 9-year-old boy in Hunan Province's Xiangtan County had the disease, but has since recovered. The boy surnamed He came down with a fever and pneumonia-like symptoms on October 10. There was an outbreak of H5N1 bird flu in his village. Time for this bird to fly away home.
According to sources, Minneapolis Mayor RT Rybak has a torn meniscus for which he'll be undergoing surgery today. The cause of the injury:
Rybak injured his knee last summer while diving off the Gay Men's Chorus float in the Pride parade, [Press Secretery Jeremy] Hanson said, and it's been bothering him throughout the campaign. Artist's conception of RT's Gay Men's Chorus leap here. We're still checking into the veracity of one eye witness account that RT Rybak was actually thrown from the Gay Men's Chorus float for being "not masculine enough." Breaking updates as events warrant. Labels: Politics-Local (04-05)
Missed Connection
I had every intention of trying to catch up with Governor Pawlenty's group in Shanghai last night at a reception they were holding in the city. Unfortunately, it was not possible to coordinate my schedule with the Guv's agenda. Another round of shopping at a local knockoff market (did you know they offer watches for sale? and DVDs?) and dinner with a group from work sucked up most of my available free time. Maybe next time around.
They Say These Bars Are Going Boys And They Ain't Coming Back (Redux)
A letter from the publican of Keegan's Irish Pub & Restaurant to Hennepin County: Keegan's Pub opened three and one-half years ago in the revitalized Old St. Anthony area of Minneapolis. For three years we met our financial projections before every level of government stepped in to put an end to it. The Federal government forced the State to give us .08 The State government forced us to give a pay increase to our bartenders and servers, our highest paid employees. Hennepin County gave us the smoking ban. Minneapolis gave us a smoking ban and more costly and restrictive parking for our customers. Now Hennepin County can recognize the economic hardship it has caused and act on it. Please do so! For the first three months of 2005, our sales were up 8% over the same months in 2004. For the most recent three months our sales are down 7.5% compared to the same months in 2004. That is a swing of 15.5%. Although our percentage decrease is smaller than some, it represents the difference between profit and loss. We have not had a profitable month since April, and the trend is downward. October 2005 was 17% down from October 2004. Cold weather will only accelerate the trend as smokers will be less willing to smoke outside. Hence, they will go to locations where they can smoke inside. Rent, heat. and light are up and heating costs are sure to be way up this winter. Additionally, we had to rent outdoor space for a patio and purchase patio furniture, just to minimize our losses. No business can survive under these conditions. You may be interested to know that we have four fewer employees than we had in March. That translates into unemployment claims and other county benifits. It appears that St. Paul is encouraging Hennepin County to stay the course with the promise that St. Paul will enact a total smoking ban. It seems to me that promises from St. Paul and Ramsey County were broken last year. Regardless of what St. Paul does or does not do, for Northeast Minneapolis the real problem is Anoka County, just two miles north of us. One final thought: The argument that non smokers will flock to our restaurants now that we are non smoking is totally bogus. Where are they? Please act. If you want to act before Keegan's becomes the latest business in Hennepin County to go up in smoke, you can share your thoughts with the powers that be at: board.clerk@co.hennepin.mn.us
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Ignore 2,000 Years Of Wisdom At Your Peril
People love to mock The Church for her stance on birth control. Catholics are mocked, impugned, laughed at, dismissed and worse for even suggesting that perhaps, just maybe interfering with the natural rhythms of life isn't right and will end up harming those who practice it. Now we hear of evidence that the latest form of "The patch" may be causing blood clots in women: The Food and Drug Administration warned users of the popular Ortho Evra birth control patch that they are being exposed to more hormones, and are therefore at higher risk of blood clots and other serious side effects, than previously disclosed. Until now, regulators and patch-maker Ortho McNeil, a Johnson and Johnson subsidiary, had maintained the patch was expected to be associated with similar risks as the pill. But a strongly worded warning was added to the patch label Thursday that says women using the patch will be exposed to about 60 percent more estrogen than those using typical birth control pills. "I wish I had known. It's quite likely I would never have used it," said Jennifer Cowperthwaite, 26, of Broad Brook, Conn., who still suffers breathing problems after a blood clot reached her lungs two years ago after using the patch. 2,000 years is a long time to develop wisdom. Too bad more Catholics don't heed it.
Those Penises Are Gone Boys And They Aint Never Comin' Back
Another reader who has been to Thailand writes in with his own experience: It's hard to tell a dude there and I heard some mind blowing stories from fellow travellers when I was there. You should see all the old German men with cuttoys (thai for trannys, I thought locals were saying "cut boys"). They were too drunk to realize they were dudes or they didn't care. I couldn't figure out which. Thai cultural tradition dictates that if there are too many boys born in a family then one of them has to become a girl. I heard that story a few times there, but I don't know if I believe it. It's a wild place, and the dangerousness of it is part of the allure. It's like the 1870s Wild West in America over there. No rules, no law, everything's available, and watch yourself. I'd go back anytime. The natural scenery and the crazy urban scenes are awesome.
Yammering Don't Know No Political Persuasion
Big news. There is a new, all-dame blog on the block, called appropriately enough Woman Talk. What, all that time on the cell phones when they're driving isn't enough? I guess not. Enjoy.
Singapore lures 'starchitects' to casino project:
SINGAPORE is wooing top architects such as I.M. Pei and Daniel Libeskind to design an iconic casino building on a par with Sydney's Opera House and Bilbao's Guggenheim Museum. The city-state, better known for its shopping malls and rigorous urban planning, now wants a breath-taking skyline. It has invited gaming firms to team up with leading architects, or 'starchitects,' when they submit proposals for two casino resorts that are expected to cost up to US$5 billion. Across Asia, eye-catching designer buildings are as much a statement of economic achievement as about creating internationally recognizable marketing symbols, from Kuala Lumpur's soaring Petronas Towers to Beijing's National Stadium, shaped like a bird's nest and planned for the 2008 Olympics. Singapore's most distinctive building so far is its waterfront performing arts center, the Esplanade, whose spiky domes have evoked comparisons to the prickly shell of the tropical durian fruit or to bugs' eyes. If you want, I could put in a good word for you Atomizer. A building shaped like a bottle of gin would be eye catching now, wouldn't it? Labels: Singapore
A Farm Subsidy That We Can All Support
Poultry farmers get free vaccine: BIRD flu vaccine is now available free to farmers, China's chief veterinary said today. Jia Youling, director of the Veterinary Bureau of the Ministry of Agriculture, warned farmers not to use unauthorized vaccines, which may have no effect. He said the central government will share the cost of vaccines with local governments, and the proportion depends on different regions. The central government will pay 20 percent in the eastern region, 50 percent in the central region and 80 percent in the western region. Local governments will pick up the rest. Jia stressed that people must not eat birds that die of disease. The H5N1 virus will not stay alive in a high temperature, but people can be infected if they pick up a dead chicken or remove feathers.
Monday, November 14, 2005
You there,fill it up with petroleum distillate, and re-vulcanize my tires, post-haste
Joe e-mails to observe: This line at Hugh's blog is just begging for the Fraters treatment: "First, given that F Troop is perhaps the most politically incorrect show ever made,..." I guess he's never seen an episode of South Park. Obviously, Hugh stopped watching TV in 1967. Which I believe is just about the same time he stopped dyeing his hair as well.
Pathfinder?
Crowd Mobs Gov. Schwarzenegger in China: Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger had just finished speaking at an event in Beijing on Monday when he and his wife, Maria Shriver, were briefly mobbed by dozens of fans and photographers. The governor, on the first of his six-day trade mission to China, became separated from his wife and their official security detail at Beijing's Millenium monument when crowds descended upon the governor's entourage. Police had to shove away the mob. Also in China this week is Minnesota Governor Tim Pawlenty and President Bush, who is visiting as part of a multination Asia trip.
One Night In Bangkok
Makes a hard man humble: THAI transvestites are often pretty enough to fool tourists and expatriates into taking them home for the night, but the unwary foreign visitor risks losing his wallet as well as his pride, Thai police warned yesterday. Members of a transvestite gang have confessed to concealing strong sedative pills under their tongues and spitting them down the throats of their victims while kissing. It causes victims to pass out so they can be easily robbed. The confession came from three attractive transvestites arrested last week in Bangkok for stealing more than 300,000 baht (US$7,300).
City Mouse vs. Suburban Mouse
The debate over the merits of city living continue at Shot in the Dark. And don't forget the comments section, where Mitch Berg elaborates on his theories of the Catholic Church and who has the right to engage in conversation about children - it's really quite enlightening stuff. UPDATE: More from Freedom Dogs UPDATE: More from Spitbull UPDATE: The final word, from Sisyphus.
The inimitable Vox Day has a new column today where he gets to the heart of the goals of public education and it aint readin', ritin' or rithmetic'.
California parents are reeling from the recent decision by a three-judge panel of the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals which asserts that parents' have no right to control how the public schools educate their children. In Texas, parents are angrily protesting their children being medicated by school personnel against their wishes. However, these despicable actions should come as a surprise only to the ignorant - who are clearly the great majority - since only an ignoramus or a fool would voluntarily pass his children through the pagan fires of the public schools. I strongly agree with that last sentence. It amazes me how many seemingly smart people are completely unaware of what happens in the public schools (and yes, that does include the one in YOUR neighborhood). Listen to (local talk show host) Soucheray any day and there will inevitably be some guy calling in from Shoreview or wherever that is indignant that his son/daughter is being taught any number of lies stemming from an aggressive secular humanist agenda. I just want to ask these people what they think conservatives have been talking about all these years. I'm afraid these people suffer from what I call the "MOR Putz" syndrome. This syndrome is characterized by a unexamined faith in always trying to find the middle ground of issues--of always looking for the Middle Of the Road. "Yeah," they say to themselves, "maybe those conservatives are right in their criticism of the schools, but then again they DO sound kind of angry, so maybe there's something wrong with them. Oh well, who knows. Off to the public schools Brandon". This defaulting to whatever the popular culture throws their way (In But Not Of anyone?) makes for great problems down the road when they actually wake up and realize what they are condemning their children to. What's that you say? You'd just love to send your kids to private school, but dang it, you just can't afford it? Sorry Charlie, no sale. What kind of cars do you drive? How big is your house? Where did you vacation this year? I flat out reject the affordability excuse when many people are living the lifestyles that were once only afforded to CEOs, business owners or government employees. If I sound preachy, deal with it. This issue isn't going away. The only people that should have their kids in public schools are leftists who actually believe in and agree with the secular humanist agenda. If you aren't one and don't, then you have to ask yourself one question: Are you an ignoramus or a fool? Labels: Education
Shanghai Surprise
Shanghai is similar in many respects to New York City. Soaring skyscrapers, busy streets, teeming crowds, and dudes pimping fake Rolex watches. Walking around the shopping district on Nanjing Road, as I did on Saturday, is a something like strolling through New York's Chinatown. Except that it goes on and on and on (no Little Italy in Shanghai) and there are a hell of a lot more Chinese folk milling about. It also is remindful of New York in that spending a day prowling the streets is a draining experience, as much if not more mentally than physically. The hotel where I am presently sequestered in is located in Pudong, so named because it is east of the Huangpu River. Pudong is a booming financial and commercial district, with bright lights and gleaming office towers that exemplify the go-go capitalism of the "New China." Puchi (The name's Poochie D And I rock the telly, I'm half Joe Camel And a third Fonzarelli) is west of the river and is home to The Bund, where you can find historic buildings with a variety of archictural stylings, as well as the Nanjing Road shopping experience. To get from Pudong to Puchi, you can take a pedestrian tunnel that runs underneath the Huangpu River. This being the "New China" and all, it's not merely a tunnel, it's a tourist attraction. Cable cars whisk you through the tunnel and you are "treated" to a visual display that includes smoke, lasers, trippy music, shimmering lights, and even giant puppets. It's all supposed to be so very futuristic, but it has more of a late '70s Pink Floyd laser light show at the planetarium feel to it. The first time through it's mildly amusing. When you make the return trip it's slightly annoying. A Westerner walking down Nanjing Road is well-advised to observe the same protocol that military convoys do. The key to survival is to keep moving at all times, even if you run into an ambush. You're always a target. But if you stop, you're that much easier to hit. The hustlers can spot a Westerner like a circling hawk eyes a field mouse in the thick grass. And they pounce with the same ferocity and desire to feed. The pitch usually followed the same progression: "Sir, you want shoes? Watches? Antiques? Wallet? DVDs?" I swear that one enterprising gent followed that up with "Pussy?" but his English was poor and it's possible that I misunderstood his offer. While they're running through the gamut of goods available for purchase, they're attempting to stab a brochure into your hands and walking beside you. Right beside you. I quickly learned that a simple "No" would not suffice. My boilerplate response soon evolved into a rapid and firm "No. No. No." accompanied by vigorous shaking of the head and employment of the international wave off signal. The one item that I desperately wanted to buy was a t-shirt that simply read: "NO, I don't want a frickin' watch, shoes, antiques, wallet, DVD or ANYTHING ELSE you have to offer. Leave me the hell alone." Unfortunately, such an item was not available for purchase as near as I was able to ascertain. When it comes to spitting in public, the average Chinese man (and even woman) plays second fiddle to no one, not even a good ol' boy from 'Bama. Having your shoes spat upon at any moment is but one of the hazards (and easily the least serious) that you face when strolling the streets of Shanghai. It's a wonder that the population of the city has grown to what it is (around sixteen million souls) when you observe the behavior of drivers, bicyclists, and pedestrians first hand. Somehow, what from what appears to be random acts of mindless stupidity and utter chaos, a strange ordering emerges in the traffic cosmos that allows the vast majority of bodies in motion to avoid collisions that seem all but inevitable to the watcher.
Keepin' It Dismal
As a rule, economists are not often the subject of heated and passionate debate. But in China these days, they've taken center stage. Unfortunately, it's more of a bull's-eye than a spotlight. We start with an editorial in the China Daily called, Internet war on economists lesson for many: As a class war is being waged in the ghettos of French cities, another class war, as it were, is being waged on the Chinese Internet - and is teaching us a lesson about where reforms may need to be stepped up. The Chinese war is the war against "mainstream economists." There are many definitions for that phrase, from apologists for the rich to lazy bones in research. They does pretty much covers the range for economists, don't it? Now where would King fall? Some overseas Chinese academics are taking advantage of this event to promote themselves. Someone reportedly declared that there are no more than five top-notch economists on the Chinese mainland. Although he later reportedly retracted some of his words, there are already different versions of mainland economists' rating lists. Already more than 90 per cent of Chinese Internet surfers have agreed with the poor assessment of economists, according to a survey on a major news portal. We know how unreliable those internet polls are. Still, that ninety percent's gotta hurt. The picture may get messier when more individuals and journalists add fuel to the debate. Soon enough, I am afraid, more personality attacks may be involved. The debate will degenerate into a boring game of mud-slinging and name-calling under hollow moral slogans. We are still talking about economists here, right? More from another editorial on the same subject (two editorials on economists on the SAME day?) in the Shanghai Daily: ON October 26, Ding Xueliang, a professor of sociology at Hong Kong University of Science and Technology said that there are no more than five economists, in the real sense of the word, in China. In his view, a true economist treats the economy as a subject rather than as a way to get rich or become famous. The latter undoubtedly being the reason that most enter the field. That and the chicks. But many so-called economists in China today are so concerned about looking after their own personal interests that they've neglected to obey the basic work ethics that go with being an economist. Economists have a work ethic? Although his conclusion seems to be too absolute, there's still some truth in it. And that poses a question: Should economists pursue fame and wealth? And, if so, to what extent? A better question would be, what the hell are they smoking if they think being an economist is the way to pursue fame and wealth? According to a survey conducted by InsightCN, an online research corporation, 89.5 percent of people surveyed believed that it is all right for economists to seek a better life, but they should at least maintain their conscience. Economists have a conscience? But the fact is that we have seen many economists acting as public speakers on behalf of certain companies or institutes just for their own interest. Even in such a stagnant Chinese stock market, there are still economists urging the public to buy certain stocks and promising them certain profit. Or hawking Iraqi Dinars on the radio. Have they no sense of shame?
A Friend Indeed
Paul e-mails to call for an intervention: Hey Elder we have a problem on our hands and I thought you were who I should come to for this problem. When we see a friend struggling it is our responsibility to call attention to the problem and see to it that they get the help they need. Our friend in question is Hugh. He fell off of the wagon and it is not a pretty site. He has gone nerd on us big time. He has a damn Lord of the Rings personality test on his site for Pete's sake. For the love of God the poor schmuck is about five minutes away from doing a remote from the Star Trek convention at the Orange County Hilton. Do something quick or the next thing you know he is going to declare himself the Dungeon Master of Minnesota on Monday's show.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Advice For President Bush
On where to turn for the real story on Tibet. From an editorial in Saturday's China Daily: If their schedule permits and President Bush has a genuine personal interest in China's Tibet Autonomous Region, President Hu is an informative source. President Bush may want to go to the 14th Dalai Lama if he needs information about old Tibet, provided the latter is not shy of the truth. But the Dalai Lama's own knowledge about the Tibet after 1959 is incomplete and permeated with rumours and distortions from the Indian town of Dharamsala. President Bush may learn a lot more about present-day Tibet from President Hu, who once was the top leader of the Tibet Autonomous Region, if the US president is brave enough to rise above the lies and groundless accusations surrounding the truth about Tibet. Yeah, I'm sure that President Hu would be more than willing to provide the inside scoop on Tibet. Nothing like hearing it straight from the man who
You Ain't Gonna Make It With Anyone Anyhow
While shopping at a local street market today, I noticed a lot of kitschy Mao memorabilia for sale. Little red books in almost any language, t-shirts, lighters, statues, propaganda posters, and clocks and watches all featuring his mug. It's a little odd since Mao's party is still running the show in China and these items aren't being sold out of respect for the dear leader. I have to admit that I was tempted once or twice, particularly by an alarm clock with Mao's face, his arms as hands, and a little jet serving as the second hand. Very cool and very kitschy. But I just couldn't get past the fact that the good Chairman was responsible for the suffering and death of millions of his own people. Somehow it just doesn't seem right to have anything associated with such a Word to the wise for any Westerners who visit one of these sprawling marketplaces in China: bring a native with you. If possible, a Chinese woman. When it comes to negotiating and closing a deal, they make Donald Trump look like Harry Frazee. And they can spot a rip off a mile away. I was fortunate enough to have someone from our office in Shanghai accompany me today (with her husband) and I was damn glad of it. Whenever I found something that I was interested in I would wait for the shopkeeper to come over and start pitching me on it and then stand back and let her take over. Price, quality, selection. You name it, she took care of it. Finally, under the category "If It Quacks Like A Duck" comes my tale of lunch today. After perusing the menu, and getting a good laugh from a few of the English translations of the dishes (my favorite was "Hairy Crab Meat With Minced Pork Balls"---mmm...that's good eatin'), I mentioned that the stuffed duck sounded good to me. My guides ordered the duck along with about sixteen other items, which is fairly common practice when putting on the feed bag in China. We worked our way through dishes one through fifteen, but the duck still hadn't made an appearance. Jing, one of my hosts, joked that they must have gone out to the market to get the duck. Then he mentioned that they probably didn't have as much duck available since people weren't ordering it as much over concerns about the bird flu. Bird flu? D'oh! While looking over the menu, I had noticed a couple of chicken dishes that sounded tasty, but had decided that discretion being the better of valor I would not take a chance with them. For some reason though I never made the connection with the duck. bird: warm-blooded egg-laying vertebrates characterized by feathers and forelimbs modified as wings Yes, that would seem to include ducks now, wouldn't it? Live and learn, live and learn. If it's any consolation, the stuffed duck was quite delicious.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Your Daily Dose
A few items of interest from the Shanghai Daily. Let's start with a new rule that bans kids' booze buys: FIFTY Shanghai supermarkets and convenience stores are getting the jump on a new rule that, for the first time, prohibits the sale of alcoholic beverages to minors. The regulation, which provides fines up to 2,000 yuan for sellers, goes into effect on January 1. The new rules, issued on Thursday by the State Ministry of Commerce, will prevent anyone under age 18 from buying beer, wine or liquor and are meant to protect the health of China's young people. No word on whether these new rules would also include underage Chinese hockey players. How about some tips for university life?: MORE than 100,000 freshmen in 100 Chinese universities and colleges have received a handbook on psychological health to help them adapt to life in university and society. The handbook gives entrants health instructions on daily life, study, communication, mood and mentality. It is expected to help entrants adjust to a new environment, learn more about psychological and mental health. University students have come under mounting pressure from fierce academic and employment competition. Some analysts say the young generation as a whole is vulnerable to frequent moodiness and "has gotten lost in a lust for material and physical pleasure." Moody kids who just care about buying stuff and hooking up? Sound familiar? Next we have an editorial on abandoned babies whose author is not afraid to speak truth to power no matter how controversial his views may be: Society needs to do more about preventing unwanted pregnancies and to set up a strong foundation to look after the welfare of abandoned infants. Every baby brings bliss to the world, whether it is wanted or unwanted. Abandoning a baby, like killing, is a big crime. It's all right to be human and to make a mistake by accident; but it's stupid to intentionally give up a baby. Edgy stuff there. Edgy stuff. This is a guy who is not afraid to go out on a limb. He conclusion holds nothing back either: I am not saying all mothers who abandon their newborn babies are stupid. But if they didn't want to deal with the consequences of raising a baby, maybe they shouldn't have gotten pregnant. I know that sounds harsh, but I'm tough because I care. Tough love man. Tough love. You know the nice thing about living in a Communist dictatorship? You can order economic forces around at whim. Vice Premier orders job creation: Vice-Premier Huang Ju yesterday ordered various localities and departments to give priority to expanding employment in economic and social development. "Employment is the basis of people's livelihood and also a major part of the building of a socialist harmonious society," Huang said at a conference of the State Council on employment in Beijing. Huang called for continuous implementation of pro-employment policies, raising the quality of workers and exploring a pro-employment mechanism of lasting effects. Bold step that. Calling for "pro-employment policies" and all. Let me guess, the Vice-Premier also supports puppies, sunshine, and long walks on the beach. Finally, I close with the observation that the comics section in the Shanghai Daily features four strips: Frank & Ernest Blondie Drabble (???) and Peanuts 'Nuf said.
Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid
We give them Hooters, they give us the "five friendlies":  "The five friendlies are an incredible little family carefully chosen by Beijing 2008 to represent all of China to carry a message of friendship to the children of the world," International Olympic Committee president Jacques Rogge said in a statement that was read at the ceremony. "China is so lucky to have so many beautiful animals to represent the Olympic spirit," Rogge said. The animals were introduced as Bei Bei, Jing Jing, Huan Huan, Ying Ying and Ni Ni--which, put together, translates to "Beijing welcomes you!" Now that's what I call a trade deficit.
Friday, November 11, 2005
God's Work Is Our Work
In honor of Veteran's Day, Blogizdat reprints this this beautiful Ben Stein essay about visiting veteran's hospitals. Excerpt: God sends His angels to us in many guises. Sometimes they wear camouflage and jump suits and carry a rifle. Sometimes they carry out bedpans at hospitals. It's an incredibly sweet privilege to spend time with these angels who carried us all on their backs. I can't visit the ones at the Westwood Military Cemetery next door. I can visit these servants of the Almighty now and keep them company for a little while. In every sense, it is the least I can do. And I'm telling you about it so you can do it, too. We all need to do it for these guys and gals who make every breath possible. I am reading a book about advertising and it says that if a fish could think, the last thing it would think about is water. For us Americans, freedom and prosperity and comfort are our water. If we start thinking about them, maybe we'll start thinking about how we got our elements that keep us alive, and show some gratitude for the men and women who earned it. Here on earth, God's work is our work. John F. Kennedy said it, and it's true.
Escape from St. Paul
Earlier this week Mitch Berg blogged about conversation he and I had last Saturday after the NARN broadcast. It consisted of a comparative analysis of the quality of life associated with living in a densely populated urban environment versus a suburban setting. While that all sounds very clinical and sophisticated, it manifested itself as a shouting match at a bar over whether living in the city or the suburbs is better. I'm not even sure how we got on that topic, since the occasion of our meeting was a cordial meet and greet with Linda Seebach, a writer from the Rocky Mountain News. And as I recall she sat there mute for 30 minutes while we hashed out this titanic battle of perspectives. I regret subjecting her to that, especially since she was still good enough to pick up the tab. Mitch Berg has now escalated matters by posting his 10 Foundations of Urban Utopia. Over which another war has broken out in his comments section, with our own JB Doubtless. I should learn from past mistakes and not subject even more people to a continuation of this argument. But what the hell, everyone enjoys seeing a good blood feud on occasion. Understand, my objection isn't anyone's individual choice to live in the city - for I encourage them to do that as long they wish (and longer). My problem is the continuing string of attacks against the greatest invention in the history of human habitation, the suburbs. That, I cannot abide. Now, on with the Fisking: 10. The Market - Like any good capitalist, I like a good deal for my money. I bought my house - an 1891 four-square in a very nice part of the Midway - for about half of what I'd have paid for the same square footage in, say, Eagan. As a good conservative, I like a great value for my housing dollar. In Saint Paul, I got it. You definitely can find cheaper housing in certain areas of the city than you can in certain suburbs. The kicker is that whole "very nice" stipulation Mitch throws in. Very nice (clean, safe, quiet, leafy, happy, wholesome) parts of a city are more expensive than very nice parts of a suburb. Reason being, scarcity. There is a limited amount of very nice real estate in cities. And enough urbanophiles like Mitch to keep up a constant demand for it, resulting in king's ransom sized mortgage in toney areas like Tangletown or Crocus Hill. If you're one of the elite who can afford that, I'm sure it's a very pleasurable lifestyle. For the rest of us, you can always buy more house in a very nice part of a suburb than in a very nice part of the city. If for no other reason than supply. The suburbs keep making more of it. There is increasing supply of very nice parts of suburbs thanks to our friend Mr. Sprawl (and his surly cousins Monsieur Deforestation and Senor Wetland Draining). The very nice parts of a city aren't growing. Often, they are under siege and shrinking. 9. Centralization - If I were to move to Minnetonka, you can bet that my job would tank and my next gig would be in Woodbury. Living in the Midway - the center of the whole metro, in many ways - the changing job geography is less a problem. True, to a point. But centralization is not an objective benefit of the city. It's a subjective benefit relative to the career and lifestyle chosen by Mitch. If one has a more stable job or values the benefits of suburban lifestyle (safe, clean, quiet, leafy, happy, wholesome) more than the costs related to a commute, it's advantage suburbs. 8. Döner - Within four blocks of my house are three great Korean joints, an amazing Turkish cafe, a bodega, an Ethiopian hole in the wall, a place that serves a decent cup of coffee, a very cool record shop - all of them a five minute walk or a one-minute drive away. Given the choice between that and driving 20 minutes to get to Applebee's - well, it's really not a choice at all. Truthfully, how often does Mitch frequent the Ethiopian hole in the wall? (My response to his forthcoming claims: I said truthfully!) My guess, never. And certainly not enough to actually have a positive and significant effect on his lifestyle. If it's the mere thought of an Ethiopian hole in the wall within four blocks of one's house that is so enticing, I would suggest living in Lakeville with a good imagination gets you just as far. By the way, my research indicates the best Korean restaurant in the Twin Cities is generally considered to be King's Fine Korean Cuisine. Deep in the heart of suburban Fridley. 7. Suburban Schools Suck, Too - Look, I've checked 'em out. A nicer facility doesn't necessarily mean one's kids are getting a better education. Inner city schools have problems, many of which are amenable to being solved by pain-in-the-ass parents; other problems require more radical solutions than even suburban districts can handle. Look, there is no guarantee of success for any individual student, no matter where they attend school. Some will be destined to fail. But statistically speaking, there is no comparison between the academic performance of suburban vs. city public schools. The parent who, given the real choice, would send his kid to Como Park or Minneapolis South over Stillwater or Woodbury needs some counseling. 6. Covenants - No, you may not specify what color I paint my property. Red Herring. I've lived in the suburbs for more than half of my life. Most of the people I know still live in the suburbs and I've never heard of this happening to anybody. Maybe that's because no one I know has ever wanted to paint their house Electric Fuchsia. Or maybe it's because these types of laws are rarely enacted and rarely enforced. Yes, of course it happens in some suburb somewhere. But if Mitch really wants to paint his house Electric Fuchsia, he better not move to Summit Avenue (a very nice part of the city). He'll find out what covenants are all about pretty quickly and just how much freedom he has over his property. 5. Suburbs Fill Me With a Soul-Crushing Ennui - I'm sorry - I know it's a liberal cliché, groaning about the mindless homogeneity of the 'burbs and exalting the urban thrum of the city - but for me it's true. So friggin' sue me...whoops, there's another of those suburban affectations! I think only a psychiatrist can properly address a crushed soul in relation to the sight of split level ranch houses, big yards, and acres of free parking at Target and Applebee's. But, Mitch has never really lived in the suburbs. I guess my growing up there enabled me to recognize that there is no homogeneity in the suburbs (mindless or otherwise). The neighborhoods and commercial districts all have teeming life and the infinite variation human beings impose on the physical environment. When I see the suburbs (and clean, safe, quiet, leafy, happy, wholesome things in general) my soul is fortified. And if Mitch still sees soul-crushing, mindless homogeneity on those clean, quiet, well kept streets, I refer him to Tolstoy: Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. The same is true for cities. 4. Massive Passive Aggression - Twin Cities' burbs exalt the most obnoxious trait of the Scandinavian character; the passive-aggressive, passively-controlling, busybody neighborhood boss. Is your grass getting a little shaggy, there? Whose car is that in your driveway, huh? Hey, could you water your azaleas a little more, so they match mine? Behavior that exists in the city as much as in the suburbs. More so when you consider that population density is higher in the city and there are more people liable to witness Mitch's unmowed lawn, abandoned cars, and dead flowers. If you can get out into the exurbs, being a lousy neighbor is actually a lot easier. There's nobody around to see it. 3. Criminals Are Breakable - I've had fewer crime problems in my house in the Midway than during any of my stays in the 'burbs. A concerted neighborhood response to crime usually does a lot of good. And a handgun or shotgun will fix any leakers. (It should go without saying that an urban gun ban would be pretty intolerable). As Mitch has mentioned on numerous occasions, his tenure in the Midway includes these episodes: I've patched bullet holes in my walls (three of them, from a scary night in 1998), chased thieves, staked out my alleys and taken down license plates with my neighbors, and on one horrible night about eight years ago, held my kids and answered their frightened questions when the news of the murder of a toddler in a gang-related shooting, scant blocks from our house, came on the TV. Remember, Mitch considers this a "very nice" part of the Midway. And I believe his only experience living in the suburbs was crashing on various couches while he was between apartments several years ago. To exceed the accounts above, all I can say is that must have been one hell of a violent couple of weeks in Burnsville. 2. It's The Only Home My Kids Know, and It's Not A Bad One - Both my kids were born in St. Paul. The house we're in is the only one either of them remembers. One of my key values is providing my kids a home, not an escalating series of investment properties to park their stuff in. Someplace where they can develop their own sense of place - and have that place be more than some anonymous cul-de-sac. Where we're at is where that is, and I'm gonna make it work. To quote some other Russian SOB: those who are born in a cage, yearn for the cage. 1. It's My City - It's where I've spent 17 of the last 20 years. If the forces of history are on conservatism's side, then certainly they favor me as well. I'm a patient guy - but nobody, nobody, pushes me out of my home. If it's me on the one side, and the entire Volvo-driving alpaca-wearing Saint Paul DFL on the other, one of us is leaving the fight on a slab. And I'm going to take a few of 'em with me in the process, at the very least. (Figuratively speaking). The great thing about the suburbs is that no one is forced to live there. And, for the most part, nobody already there wants to add a bunch of new neighbors from the city. Any "pushing" Mitch is likely to encounter with a move from the city will be push-back from his prospective new neighbors. In the spirit of giving equal time, there is yet another pro-city perspective to consider and it's eloquently provided by the Nihilist in Golf Pants.
I stumbled into Shanghai a couple of hours ago. After the nearly twenty hours it took to get to Singapore from Minneapolis earlier this week, the five hour hop from Singapore to Shanghai was nuthin'. But the flight itself was a bit disappointing. I had heard a lot of good things about Singapore Airlines and was looking forward to experiencing their vaunted service for myself. And when I checked in at the airport and discovered I was flying "Raffles Class" (a.k.a. bidness class) I had high expectations.
It wasn't as if the service wasn't good. The flight attendants were pleasant and attentive. Their intentions were good, but their follow through always wasn't. Prior to takeoff, they were taking drink orders to be served immediately after we become airborne. I ordered a Scotch neat AND a glass of water. Perhaps my instructions were not clear because what I got was a glass of Scotch with ice and water. It was hopelessly diluted before the first drop had passed my lips. When next she came around, I sent it back and specified that this time ALL I wanted was a glass of Scotch. No water. No ice. This time she got the message. The food was tasty, but not especially noteworthy although the dessert was quite good. The seats were obviously not designed for men of my impressive stature (my stature being all of five foot nine and one half inches). After reclining the seats to the fullest extent possible, my feet dangled uncomfortably over the leg rest. This might seem like nitpicking, but we're talking "Raffles Class" here and I would expect better. The personal entertainment systems also fell far short of the mark. Unlike the offerings available on Northwest, where you select the movies and start and stop them at your whim, the SAL system merely let you choose between a number of movies that started at a set time. The video quality was also poor. Having experienced both services in the last week, I would have to give Northwest's international business class the edge over SAL's Raffles Class. At least on the flights that I was on. However, I will say that the SAL airport lounge in Singapore was absolute nirvana. Top notch, first class all the way. I must retire to get some much needed shut eye, but before I sign off I want to report that the demise of the Communist government in China is inevitable. It may not happen any time soon, but believe me, it's only a matter of time. Why am I so certain of this? I saw a billboard on the way from the airport promoting the latest American franchise to establish roots in China. Hooters has come to Shanghai baby. We will bury you. In chicken wings, cleavage, and short shorts. Labels: Travel
With the election of Chris Coleman on Tuesday as Mayor of St. Paul, the media-political industrial complex continued to strengthen in the Twin Cities. Joining the conflict of interest in-laws from Minneapolis (RT Rybak and his sister-in-law Debra Caulfield Rybak from the Star Tribune), we now have the new Mayor of St. Paul, marching into office, merrily escorted by his brother and sister-in-law. Yes, it's Nick Coleman and Laura Billings, who just happen to be the lead metro columnists for the only two daily newspapers in town.
This level of easy access and built-in sympathetic favor from the press is any politician's dream come true. And it should be any citizen's nightmare. Politicians with ambitious agendas in control of vast resources of the public money and the primary agents of information we rely on to assess their performance are populated with busom blood relatives. Joseph Pulitzer must be turning in his grave (assuming he's dead). And with their first beaming columns out of the box regarding their beloved brother's triumph, we get a taste of what the next four years might be like. Not just fawning coverage of St. Paul's Mayor elect, but nearly identical fawning coverage. From His column: Chris Coleman has what it takes to be a great mayor and serve his city with distinction. From Her column: In the next four years, Chris Coleman could do great things for this city - I hope he will From His column: If he does, you won't hear a peep from me, and that is as it should be: I took no part in the politicking and I won't take part in the horn-blowing. But if he screws up, all bets are off: Ink is thicker than blood, and I can take him to the woodshed, if he needs it. From Her column: ... but it won't be my job to praise him. Of course, if he screws up, piling on is part of the job description. In between heaping praise on the new Mayor of St. Paul, they assure us they won't be in the business of praising the new Mayor of St. Paul. Well that's a relief. But, to take a wild hypothetical, if they are tempted to tell us how great he is, was, or will be, what will happen? From Her column: If he makes me proud, my ethics policy prevents me from saying so. A policy, we're saved! I'll assume that ethics policy goes into effect sometime before she writes her NEXT column about him. Of course, just in case that policy is delayed further (or indefinitely), we consumers of news will need to digest their commentary on anything related to St. Paul with the utmost of skepticism and critical analysis. Alas, another burden for the reader. Yet another filter we're forced to utilize in our attempts to get objective information from the news providers in this town. There is one alternative. For the real, objective truth of what the future of St. Paul will look like, I recommend Sisyphus from Nihilist in Golf Pants. Labels: Media-Local (05-07)
Thursday, November 10, 2005
One of the joys of traveling to foreign lands is taking in the wide scope, breadth, and depth of anti-Americanism out there these days. I'm not talking about the garden variety that you see on the domestic front espoused by the likes of Jimmy Carter and Michael Moore. No sir, this is real deal "America is the greatest threat in the world" type of stuff.
Usually I can get more than my fill by watching CNN International and the BBC. Occasionally I'll come across it in the most unlikely of places. Last night, I was watching a travel show on a Singapore arts and entertainment channel. It featured a couple of young Aussies (or perhaps Kiwis) who were making their way through Laos, which doesn't exactly have a reputation as a tourist haven. The man and woman were traveling together but were not romantically linked. In fact, they didn't really seem to even like each other all that much as evidenced by their bickering and backbiting behavior. Which made for decent viewing as conflict is often at the heart of good entertainment. At one point in the show, they each went their separate ways, which for the man meant a village that had been ruthlessly bombed by the imperialist Americans during the Vietnam War and was still suffering as a result to this day. To back up his claims, he interviewed a villager who showed him bomb fragments, craters, and even some unexploded ordinance that was still easy to find (or at least that's the appearance we were given). The villager was not an expert in military matters by any means and much of what he said was simply ludicrous. Of course, the Aussie host took it all in at face value and solemnly nodded in agreement with the villager's assertion that (cue finger wagging) "America is very very bad country." Since no one can give Uncle Sam the shiv quite like one of his own, the host also dredged up a self-described Vietnam War draft dodger who happened to be traveling through the area. This son of liberty explained that he was loathe to admit his nationality since "everyone knows that Americans are assholes" which was followed by laughter and more knowing nods from the host. But don't you dare question his patriotism. He also stated that America dropped more tons of bombs on Laos than were dropped by both sides in the Second World War combined. I've heard this same claim made about Cambodia and I imagine that there is some validity to it. But I highly doubt that we dropped more bombs on EACH country than the total in WW2. At this point in the program, I was getting a little peeved and wishing that someone would provide some much needed historical perspective on the matter. The host must have also realized that he needed more than merely the anecdotal information so far provided. And so he reached out to an authority on the matter. A well known American university professor and author. A straight shooter who could weigh in with an objective viewpoint. Noam Chomsky. That's right. Noam F'in Chomsky came on to further detail the atrocities committed by Amerika in the Vietnam War. I really wish there was a transcript available to do justice to the outrageous BS flowing from Chomsky's pie hole. Essentially he said that there was absolutely no reason for the United States to bomb Laos during the war and that we did it because "The U.S. had all these bombers in the area with nothing to do." Yeah, we just thought it'd be fun to kill a bunch of the yellow men for the hell of it. It's not like there was any military reason for it. It wasn't like Laos was part of a sophisticated logistics system that fueled the war in South Vietnam was it Noam? It always amuses me when Americans take on a superior air and proudly tell you how they get all there news from the international media, because they're telling you the real story unlike the jingoistic cheerleaders at Fox News. Guess what? When you travel around a bit and see this vaunted international media in action first hand you realize that a good deal of it is utter crap. I'm far from an apologist for the American media, but if you think you're getting the "real story" by watching a documentary on global warming from Germany (which I also did last night) or the latest news from Iraq as reported on Mexican television, you're living in a dreamland. Labels: Travel
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
He Can't Win If They Don't Score
The disappointment that characterized the 2005 Minnesota Twins season continued yesterday when the American League Cy Young award was inexplicably handed to Los Angeles Angels starter Bartolo Colon. Twins ace Johan Santana's second consecutive brilliant season failed to even earn him a second place finish in the voting as both Yankee closer Mariano Rivera and Colon garnered more first place votes from the purported experts in the Baseball Writers Association of America. Lest you think me nothing more than a shameless homer for even noticing this injustice, please peruse the following handful of major pitching stats that directly compare the two hurlers (closer Rivera should never have even been considered) and then tell me who deserves the honor: Total Strikeouts Santana 238 (1st in the American League) Colon 157 (8th in the American League) Hits Allowed Per 9 Innings Santana 6.99 (1st) Colon 8.69 (13th) Strikeouts Per 9 Innings Santana 9.25 (1st) Colon 6.35 (16th) Opponent Batting Average Santana .210 (1st) Colon .254 (13th) On Base Against Average Santana .250 (1st) Colon .291 (2nd) Slugging Percentage Allowed Santana .346 (1st) Colon .407 (15th) Walks + Hits Per Inning Pitched Santana .970 (1st) Colon 1.16 (3rd) Earned Run Average Santana 2.87 (2nd) Colon 3.48 (8th) Strikeout/Walk Ratio Santana 5.17 (2nd) Colon 3.65 (6th) Wins Colon 21 (1st) Santana 16 (5th) In the ten categories listed above, Johan Santana has an almost superhuman average rank of 1.60 while Bartolo Colon boasts a shameful 8.50...and this earns Santana third place?!?! Apparently, the only statistic that mattered to the obviously besotted voters was number of wins. I guarantee you... if Bartolo Colon had to pitch behind the Twins pathetic offense all of last year, he'd have trailed Santana in that category too. The Elder's now infamous prediction that the 2004 addition of Colon "might help the Angels" was incredibly prescient at the time, but it is just a bit backwards in this instance. Their phenomenal production of 6.02 runs per game when Colon was on the mound attests to the fact that the Angels probably helped Colon just a bit more than he helped them.
The Great White North
Rod, from outstate Minnesota, writes on the Sandy Stephens' controversy: Sandy Stephens was my first sports hero, when I was 6 yrs. old out in Elbow Lake, MN. I didn't know he was black, because I'm not sure I realized there were black people then. But I damn sure knew how to spell his name. For penance, the U (my alma mater) should refer to their teams as the Go*v*ers for the rest of this year. That punishment would fit the crime. But then our dear University would start receiving flack from a certain Dutch accounting firm. Those of us with a sketchy lease on a timeshare in the Hague know, the last thing you want is flack from a Dutch accounting firm.
This Saturday the University of Minnesota Golden Gophers football team faces the Michigan State Spartans in a contest surrounded in emotion, controversy. and partisan rancor. Of course that has nothing to do with the game on the field, between two mediocre Big 10 teams battling for the right to play in the Emerald Bowl rather than the Poulan Weedeater Motor City Bowl. This game doesn't even have the gravitas of a bronze pig being awarded to the winners (that's next week, versus Iowa).
No, the real heat and humidity is blasting from an internal storm that consumed the Gophers athletic department a few months back. It all started with the Gophers' efforts to honor one its distinguished alums, efforts which included printing his name on a game ticket. Sandy Stephens was a stand out University of Minnesota football player in the early 1960's. An All-American quarterback, he lead his squad to Rose Bowl victories and a national championship. Clearly he's a man worthy of respect and tribute by his alma mater. Especially from a school that has nothing football related to celebrate in the past 50 years besides a few victories in the Poulan Weedeater Motor City Bowl (or whatever). The Michigan State game would seem to be an entirely appropriate time to honor Sandy Stephens. Instead, the University of Minnesota chose to honor somebody named Sandy Stevens. Ah! Ski U Mah! A careless copywriter at the U of MN inadvertently misspelled Stephens' name on the ticket and somehow it got through the no doubt rigorous government funded proofing process and the tickets were distributed. Then all hell broke lose in certain quarters of the Gopher loving community, typified by this quote: "It's incomprehensible for them to misspell the name of a prominent athlete like Sandy Stephens," said former Gophers basketball player Al Nuness, who is the school's representative to the Big Ten advisory committee on diversity. "This guy was the first black major college quarterback. He led them to the Rose Bowl two years in a row, a national title, his number is retired and he has an endowed scholarship in his name. And we misspell his name? That's inexcusable." One local journalists felt this error went even beyond the level of incomprehension and inexcusability and implied there were more sinister motivations involved: Misspelling Sandy Stephens' name on tickets for the November 12 Gophers-Michigan State football game can't simply be attributed to an oversight, as U-M officials claimed last week. I'm not sure what those dark impulses were that drove someone to write Stevens instead of Stephens, but whatever it is, it's a force that stretches far beyond the U of MN Athletic Department Ticket word processing department. The University of Minnesota and its adherents are rife with this motivation. For example, the U of MN newsletter Kiosk reports this bit of revisionist history: 1961 Sandy Stevens becomes the first black all-American quarterback in the U.S., and leads the Gophers to their first Rose Bowl. Inexcusable and incomprehensible. And perhaps, inevitable ... the misspellings continue. Another example, from an organization that should know something about University of Minnesota athletes, the M Club, the official association of Gopher athletic letter winners. Sandy Stevens 94 - All American, 1961. Quarterback for national title team. MVP in 1961, led team in rushing. Is eighth in career touchdowns, rushing, 118. Is tenth in career total yards, 1475. Is there anyone at the University of Minnesota who can spell this man's name correctly? Someone better check the name on Sandy Stephens' diploma, before this really gets embarrassing. Sadly, this phenomenon extends beyond the sacred ivory towers of our state's premiere academic institution. It extends onto the sacred menu of our state's premiere sports bar. According to this review for Joe Senser's Sports Grill: This is a haven for people who live, breathe and eat sports, but it's pretty good food for those who just like to eat. Most dishes are named after Minnesota sports luminaries, like Sandy Stevens' hot pastrami sandwich ... No!! Say it ain't so Joe! Sure, this slight is somewhat ameliorated by the fact that pastrami is among the most dignified of the salted, cured meats. But come on, Joe Senser, a member of the Board of the Sandy Stephens Scholarship Fund really ought to get the name right. If he can't do that, maybe change the name of the sandwich to something easier to spell. For example, the Ndudi Ebi hot Pastrami has a nice ring to it. The mishits just keep on coming. More misspellings come to you on behalf of the National Football League, in their archive of first round draft choices by the New York Jets: 1962 Sandy Stevens QB Minnesota And the New York Jets themselves corroborate the error. The shame is exacerbated when we note that both appear to have spelled correctly the name of the Jets' 1974 first round choice, Carl Barzilauskas. (But, on the bright side, this could give Joe Senser an idea for another winning appetizer concept, Carl Barzilauskas Cajun Couscous Quesadillas.) Of course, none of these other misspellings excuse the Gophers' for their error on the ticket stub. It remains inexcusable. And incomprehensible. So much so, maybe they should stop denying it's an error at all and claim they actually intended to honor Sandy Stevens. These people exist in multitudes across the country. Best prospects include Sandy Stevens, the community columnist for the Glen Ellyn (IL) Sun. She occasionally writes about sports. But the main strike against her is that she's also known as the Craig Westover of the Chicago suburbs. More plausibly, the Gophers' ticket department could claim they were celebrating the accomplishments of noted University of Central Oklahoma biologist Sandy Stevens. Although this person has no known connection to University of Minnesota or sports, he (she?) is responsible for the highly relevant Annotated Checklist of Mammals of the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve, Osage County, Oklahoma. From which I quote: Pocket gophers prefer deep sandy and loamy soils. The shallow soils and limestone bedrock might be a barrier to gophers on the preserve. Most likely habitat in the preserve for gophers would be sandy areas and possibly along roads. For those truly interested in Gophers, that paragraph provides more entertainment than any University of Minnesota football player has since Sandy Stephens strapped it on in 1961. To Sandy Stephens and Sandy Stevens, hats off to thee! Labels: Football
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
What'd you do today? Flew to Singapore. Maybe it didn't take quite a full day, but if you count the time spent at the Minneapolis and Tokyo airports it was damn near twenty-four hours. Nineteen of that was pure flying time.
Time that was made a bit easier to bear by recent improvements in Northwest's in-flight entertainment offerings. No, they haven't replaced the flight attendants with Hooters gals. They have greatly expanded the choice of movies available for viewing and it now includes selections from various eras as well as the hits of today (if you consider "Must Love Dogs" a hit). On the way to Tokyo, I watched a quirky 1947 film called Gentleman's Agreement, which starred Gregory Peck as a journalist who takes a new job and is tasked to write a piece about anti-Semitism. After struggling to come up with a killer angle, he finally decides to see what it's really like by pretending to be Jewish himself. Sort of "A Jew Like Me" if you will. He discovers what it's like to be "restricted" from exclusive resorts and have your kid come home crying after hearing ethnic slurs at school. The movie's message is that the only way to combat anti-Semitism is for good people to not only be willing to stand up and publicly speak out against it, but also to practice what they preach in their private lives, which becomes a problem for some of the film's characters. There's really no way you could miss the message, since director Elia Kazan employs a pipe wrench to hammer you over the head with it again and again. It's not exactly a model of subtlety. In many respects the movie comes across as dated. It definitely was made for that particular time (and even place with all the action taking place in and around New York City) and modern viewers would likely have difficulty relating. But it also is a good snapshot of that era and reveals interesting tidbits that mark that time. One that really stood out for me was when Peck's character comes forward near the end of the film and reveals to his coworkers that he is in fact not really Jewish. They react by saying something about being surprised to learn that he is a Christian. Apparently that was the extent of the choices available. From Tokyo to Singapore I caught something almost completely different called Hustle & Flow: A rap star from the Dirty South who is trying to make it in the hip hop world, he has to deal with many different types of people who try to bring him down, including strippers, baby's mama, and all the things that try to keep a player down. This is probably his last chance to make it, he is approaching his 40's, and his life is looking downhill. As much as I deplore glorifying the culture that the film portrays, I gotta admit that this was actually a pretty good movie. Solid acting, well-developed characters, nice use of humor, and a story line that builds to a dramatic conclusion. The nineteen hours spent in airplanes was also marred by the fact that I came down with a cold on Sunday, the day before my departure. I actually came through in fairly decent shape, although the symptoms definitely put a damper on the imbibing of booze, which is readily and freely available (almost pushed on you) on these flights. The way they shuffle the food, snacks, and booze at you while you're sitting immobile for hours on end almost reminds me of one of those science fiction stories, where aliens fatten up their human captives on the way back to the home planet for a feast of epic proportions. If I find out that the motto of the Northwest flight attendants is "To Serve Man", I'm finding another way home. Labels: Travel
Finally, A Civil Rights Movement I Can Support
Bernie from Minnetonka writes in to make me aware of my rights as a Fat Person (does simple dreaming of the perfect sandwich automatically make me fat?), courtesy the National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance: Declaration of Health Rights for Fat People 1. To non-discrimination in the health care system due to weight size or illness category; 2. To have quality medical care, social services, and adequate physical accommodations / equipment/testing facilities in the health care setting; 3. To have full explanation of all health procedures; to help choose the modality of treatment; and to refuse treatment (including calorie-restrictive diets); 4. To have an advocate, either an individual or organizational representative of our choice, to ask questions for us, to listen to what we cannot hear; and to be with us; 5. To refuse participation in weight loss programs of all kinds, including diets, surgery, aversive psychological conditioning, and chemical regimes, without jeopardizing access to other treatment and care; 6. To adequate and appropriate analgesia and anesthesia when necessary in the opinion of the patient; 7. To freedom from ridicule, coercion, and harassment from all care givers in the health delivery system; 8. To be treated by individuals who are accurately informed about the latest research in the areas of bariatrics, nutrition, metabolism, and genetics with regard to "obesity"; 9. To privacy and confidentiality of all medical records. 10. To be made aware of the latest in sandwich R&D, including hybrid designs combining heretofore unknown combinations of delicious meats. Okay, so I made that last one up. Now I'm not fat (yet). I go about 5'11" and 200 pounds and could play Boogaard to Nick Coleman's Gillies any day of the week, but it's nice to know that a civil rights group has my back if I ever feel like letting myself go.
Dare To Dream
Tim from Colorado writes in with a brilliant idea in perfecting the Wurstburger: Here in our little town, during spring through fall, we have a Farmer's Market. My favorite booth is run by a nice German gentleman who makes his own sausage. A particular favorite of mine is his bratburger patties. That's right, bratwurst in pattie shape for grillin'. Your post has given me a new idea. A doubledecker hamburger/bratburger, with course mustard, grilled onions and sauerkraut. I would say "bon appetite" but that's French, which kills the appetite. The genius of this idea is that each bite of the doubledecker would be in perfect harmony since the sausage would line up directly on top of the hamburger. Also, it probably wouldn't be as sloppy as the current incarnation of the sandwich, since the sausage tends to slide around a little on top of the hamburger. This thing is nearing perfection. The only thing that is lacking is cheese. But what kind? Email with suggestions.
Monday, November 07, 2005
It's Really Real! It's Really Real!
We met my parents yesterday for lunch at the Country Kitchen. Normally, that doesn't rise to the level of postable material (unless you are telling everyone how there was nothing-nothing! to order on the entire menu) but I discovered a taste sensation so remarkable I have to let the world know. I really did not expect any surprises from the Country Kitchen menu. They have reliable breakfast items like skillets, omlettes and the like, along with burgers, turkey wraps, chicken dinners--classic American Home Cookin' fare. So I was taken aback upon seeing the description of one of their special limited time burgers. It said the sandwich was a hamburger with a Johnsonville brat on top of it smothered in grilled sauerkraut and topped with a creamy dijon mustard. I was confused. "A hamburger AND a brat? At the same time? Why that's just not done! There must be some kind of mistake!" I thought to myself. I mean, if you go over to your buddy's house for a cookout, you might get a brat and a burger, but not together. Not on the same bun. Not to be co-mingled in each seemingly delicious bite. That's just crazy talk. But upon seeing the picture of said delectable and verifying with the waitress "So they're together, right? On the same bun?" (understandably, I was still somewhat incredulous) I realized that meat worlds would soon be colliding, much to my gluttonous joy. My first thought when it was put down before me was that the burger was going to be tricky to eat without getting half of it either on my shirt, or more importantly wasting some of the precious cargo on the floor. I decided a single diagonal cut was in order. Upon doing so, I saw that they had split the Johnsonville brat in half to make it adhere better to the hamburger. Smart that. I went with ketchup and the dijon mustard as my additional flavorings and the first bite was...good. Not great, just good. There was something missing in the mix and that something was cheap, yellow mustard. Once I had procured that from the waitress and slathered the bun with a copious layer, it was on. NOW I had a sandwich. Dear readers it's hard to even describe the pleasure this sandwich imparted. One second you were grooving on the simple joy of an everyday American hamburger. Then out of nowhere you would be hit with the taste of a brat like your dad used to make on the grill. Then you could taste both at the same time--some bites more hamburger heavy, some more brat intensive. And the sauerkraut added the ethnic flare that is missing so often in my diet (Mr. Burns to Homer when Homer was his assistant: "Donuts! I said no ethnic foods!"). But this is a special, limited time item. I would suggest heading to the nearest Country Kitchen immediately if not sooner. And now that you know this is not a menu typo you can confidently order your meal knowing that in a few minutes ecstasy awaits you...
Even The Losers Get Lucky Sometimes?
Please go to Radio Blogger and vote for Jeff from Peace Like A River lest he become known as the Harold Stassen of the Crosley Blog of the Week poll.
Boogaarding The Knockouts Part II
I have written previously of the Wild's impressive new rookie Derek Boogaard and his skills as a pugilist. Those skills were on display last night when he dropped Anaheim Mighty Duck Trevor Gillies with a knock-out uppercut that was worthy of another of my sporting interests, Ultimate Fighting (Is there anything more entertaining that watching Matt Hughes choke out an opponent?) Naturally, the limpwrists at the Strib don't even mention the incredible fight, but here is a detailed account of the bout. For those of you who understand hockey fights and have been enjoying them for years, you know how uncommon it is for a fight to end with one of the opponents being knocked silly. Most fights end in a wrasslin' match on the ice with no real damage done or punches landed and the linesmen have to step in to seperate. But Boogaard, who goes 6'7" and 270 pounds is changing that. Word is spreading around the league that if you challenge "Boogie" you will end up at the minimum heading to the locker room (as Gillies did last night all woozy and disoriented) and perhaps even to the emergency room. Now THAT is an advantage to your team. How? Because if no one will fight the Tough Guy on your team, that means your skilled players will be left alone to do what they do best and the opposing team's skilled players can be clobbered with impunity (Don't get me started on the ridiculous instigator penalty--it should be changed immediately if not sooner.) During Gretzky's stunning years in Edmonton if another player as much as looked at Wayne wrong, they had to deal with Dave "Cementhead" Semenko who would ensure The Great One could utilize his skills with plenty of open ice. So it will be interesting to see if any of the other Tough Guys will continue to challenge Boogie. Here's a list of the top chuckers in the league who have to know that an ambulance ride is a mere drop of the gloves away.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Local television news station Fox 9 lead off tonight's 9pm newscast with a shocking undercover expose that showed Gopher hockey players under the age of twenty-one drinking ALCOHOL at a Dinkytown watering hole. Shocked, shocked I am that the lads would dare engage in such behavior.
College students drinking illegally? Next thing you're going to tell me that they're also having casual sex! Memo to Channel 9: I have a hunch that you would find similar behavior among athletes at just about ANY college in the land. In fact, I KNOW that it's common at many other WCHA schools. I won't name any names, but if this such a BIG STORY in your eyes, you might want to take a drive up Interstate 35 some day. Memo to the Vikings: Thanks again guys. Your ill-advised actions have now brought every other local sports team into the glare of the media moral spotlight. Let's hope the Timberwolves are keeping a low profile. Labels: Hockey (02-05)
Book Learnin'
I've mentioned this numerous times before, but I figured I'd give one final plug for Education Myths:What Special-Interest Groups Want You to Believe About Our Schools and Why it Isn't So. If you want to talk about education facts rather than feelings, this is the book that you want to keep close at hand.
They Say These Eyes Are Goin' Boys And They Ain't Comin' Back
From the WSJ: The Fourth Estate is braced to get more bad news about itself next week. On Monday, the Audit Bureau of Circulations releases its semiannual figures on circulation -- and they are expected to show that paying readers continue to disappear at an alarming rate during the latest six-month period. Challenged by online rivals, a dearth of younger readers and an advertising downturn, newspapers are suffering through their worst slump in years. The last ABC figures, which were released in May, were the worst for the industry in nine years, showing that average daily circulation had dropped 1.9% in the six months ended March 31 from a year ago. There are a few bright spots: Not all chains are expected to report such big drops. Sacramento-based McClatchy Co. says daily circulation was down 0.7% as of September, to just under 1.4 million copies. But it also expects circulation for the full year to fall around 1% -- ending 20 consecutive years of circulation growth. The Wall Street Journal, published by Dow Jones & Co., expects circulation to be up slightly, because of increases in online readership. ABC in recent years has allowed the inclusion of certain online readers in circulation figures. And this has to be one of the best "glass is half full" statements of all time: "By one measure the newspaper business is facing this crisis," says Tom Rosenstiel, director of the Project for Excellence in Journalism, a think tank that's part of the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. "But by another it is also looking at the best opportunity for growth that it's had in two generations." Is the popularity of newspapers waning? Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no...no, no, not at all. I, I, I just think that the.. uh.. their appeal is becoming more selective. Update--Tom e-mails to report on a daily double on fish wrap: This morning my wife stopped at the Holiday Station near our home for some items. She decided to "feed the beast" - buy a Star Tribune - exclusively for the coupons. (We cancelled the Strib a few months ago due to objectionable content...Nick Coleman, The Boondocks, the Editorial Page, etc.) The clerk told my wife she should take advantage of a special offer - Double the Coupons for $2.22. My wife asked how they accomplished getting more coupons in one paper. The clerk told her it was simple, they just gave out two papers for $2.22 (I'm not certain if this is a Holiday promotion or a Strib promotion). My wife's concern was environmental - what a waste of paper, trees, etc. My concern was circulation - if every outlet was promoting this the way Holiday is - with signage, clerks promoting it, etc., that's a lot of copies sold that aren't really additional sales. May be the Strib lets its advertisers know about the practice - I don't know. It seems to me that there is a lot of room for inflating circulation numbers without increasing the number of people who are actually reading the paper and/or seeing the ads.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
No Turkeys In This Lineup
 Yesterday, I received an Amazon shipment that included the CD Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall [LIVE]. It's a recently discovered recording by the Voice of America of two of the legends of jazz performing at Carnegie Hall in 1957 and, based on a listen yesterday, it's the real deal. The booklet that accompanies the CD includes recollections of Monk and Coltrane from notable jazz writers such as Stanley Crouch as well as a copy of the poster bill for the evening. Can you imagine attending an evening of jazz at Carnegie Hall that includes Billie Holiday, Dizzie Gillespie, "special attraction" Ray Charles, Chet Baker, and the Thelonious Monk Quarter with John Coltrane? Oh yeah, there was also this newcomer by the name of Sonny Rollins on the bill as well. With ticket prices ranging from $2 to $3.95? Tickets that are tax deductible? Scott Johnson would no doubt describe it as a glorious moment in the history of Western civilization. Sigh. Where's a time machine when you need one?
Friday, November 04, 2005
On Monday, I will be departing for an extended bidness jaunt. I'll be conducting hands on inspection tours of poultry farms in Southeast Asia and may even bring back a live one or two as gifts for some of my special friends.
I jest of course (who says a looming pandemic that could kill millions isn't comedy gold?). In reality, I will be spending four days in Singapore and six in Shanghai and probably avoiding all things avian related. The key to any good trip is preparation and one of the best ways to prepare is to make a checklist of items to bring with you: Books? Check. Magazines? Check. DVDs? (To watch on the flights) Check. Underwear? (In case I want to do any blogging) Check. Gum? (In case I want to ride the subway in Singapore) Check. Ralphie? Check. Spray paint? (In case I want to do a little tagging in Singapore) Check. It looks like I won't be the only hockey playing right of center Minnesotan traveling in China at the time either: As part of the new initiative, the Governor will lead as many as 100 business, government, academic and civic leaders to China November 11-19. Geared primarily toward trade, the mission will include several industry-focused delegations and will feature events in Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong. If he has a spare moment, maybe T-Paw and I could get together for a Tsingtao or two and reminisce about the homeland. Labels: Travel
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Knight Ridder Is Selling (maybe), But Who's Buying?
From today's WSJ: A potential sale of Knight Ridder Inc. might be the first shoe to drop in the long-talked-about consolidation of the newspaper industry. If so, somebody better deliver the news to prospective buyers. There don't seem to be many out there, at this point. Knight Ridder's biggest shareholder, Legg Mason Inc.'s Private Capital Management LP, this week called for the sale of the San Jose, Calif., company, the nation's second-largest publisher of daily newspapers by total circulation, behind Gannett Co. In a letter to the company's board, PCM Chief Executive Bruce Sherman said that Knight Ridder has determined that its breakup value far exceeds its stock price, and that directors should "aggressively pursue the competitive sale of the company." PCM owns a 19% stake in the company. We could see more of the same old thing: Conventional wisdom holds that Gannett, the largest newspaper company, might be a good suitor for Knight Ridder. Others think a consortium of private-equity investors is more likely, since newspapers are considered cheap, but remain good cash-flow vehicles that would help finance a leveraged buyout. Or a whole new player in the field: Some think a new-media company such as Yahoo Inc. or eBay Inc. might be interested. Yahoo owning KR would certainly shake things up. I imagine that at least we might finally see a halfway decent web offering from the Pioneer Press. And the internet giant might not have to overpay: It is difficult to determine what price Knight Ridder might fetch, either in whole or in pieces. A reasonable valuation range for newspaper companies is between 11 and 13 times earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortization. That would put Knight Ridder's price in a range of $70 to $100 a share. But few observers expect the company to fetch that much, given the dim outlook for the industry and Knight Ridder in particular.
Waters-Gate
Yesterday, after an extended overtime hard day's labor, I returned home for a little rest and relaxation. This consisted of laying flat on my back on the couch while drinking an MGD, gnawing on a brick of cheese, playing a hand-held Tetris game, and watching CSPAN on the tube. Sure, that's not exactly solitary meditation, but be aware, if I would have gotten home before 8:00 PM I also would have had the Hugh Hewitt show on the radio in the background. Perhaps it's best I didn't have that extra distraction, for I did have the ability to concentrate a little bit more on what was happening in the House chambers, via the CSPAN feed. Specifically, a presentation by the distinguished Representative from California, Maxine Waters. From the Congressional Record of floor speeches yesterday (page H9545, if you're using the Thomas search engine), check out this Soviet style white washing of history: At the moment the President declared "mission accomplished," the insurgents said, now let the war begin. And, guess what? They do not have the sophisticated technology that we have. They do not have the resources that we have. But you know what? They are wreaking havoc on us and our soldiers. They are killing our young people. By whitewashing, I speak not of Ms. Waters' skewed version about what is happening in Iraq. No, I speak of the works she spoke. Because amid the many distractions I put in front of myself last night (in a vain hope of silencing the awful screaming of the lambs), I clearly heard her state: At the moment the President declared "mission impossible" the insurgents said ... blah blah blah. Friends, as God Shamgod is my witness, last night she said "Mission Impossible!" not "mission accomplished." It was such a jarring statement, I tore myself away from Tetris and my sumptuous meal to stare at the TV, expecting to hear that cool theme music bleed in and perhaps some expert testimony on Iraq from Tom Cruise and/or the ghost Peter Graves. But now, according to the official record, she said "mission accomplished." Overnight, some government stenographer sees fit to clean up her statement to something actually coherent and relevant to the debate. And the real story of what was actually said by a US Representative is lost to history (unless the Fraters Libertas archives reach a deserved status of parity with the Congressional Record in the minds of historians.) This is an abomination and I demand an immediate investigation into this government manipulation of information. But even with these blatant attempts by the bureaucracy to cover for one of its favored daughters, it is amusing to find that no government stenographer can clean up some of the other comments uttered by Rep. Waters last night. This from Congressional Record page H9546: The war in Iraq has cost us almost $3 billion so far. The funding would provide much-needed resources for Americans here at home for the money that we are sending in Iraq. Ah, were that it were true! Unfortunately $3 billion doesn't pay for the film developing costs at Abu Ghraib. Currents estimates for our valiant efforts in Iraq are a staggering $216 billion and counting. But a little misunderestimation of the numbers doesn't stop Rep. Waters from making a few conclusions. Her thoughts on what that money could have been spent on instead: Let me just give you some idea what could have been provided: Health care for 46,458,000,805 people. While we check her math on this one, I must say I respect the confidence she implies by refusing to round this number off. 46 billion ... blah blah blah ... and five people. I suppose if we only paid for 46 billion, four hundred and fifty eight million, eight hundred people, and left those 5 poor souls out in the cold, it would be cause for another condemnation of the heartlessness of the Bush administration. By the way, the 46 billion and change number she cites is approximately 6.5 times the population of the entire Earth. Perhaps Ms. Waters is proposing the US government also pick up the tab for the health care costs on whatever planet she originally came from . Don't put your slide rulers away yet, she continues: 3,545,016,000 elementary schoolteachers could have been paid for. With 3.5 billion extra elementary school teachers at our disposal, I think the student-teacher ratio would finally fall in line with the teacher's union recommendations. And then we can concentrate on the real problem in education, increasing teacher salaries! Ms. Waters' abacus continues to clack: 27,93,000,473 Head Start places for children. 120,351,991,000 children's health care could have been paid for. We could have built 1,841,000,833 affordable housing units. We could have built another 24,000,072 new elementary schools. On and on. 39,000,665,748 scholarships for university students. 4,000,000,699 public safety officers or 3,204,000, 265 port container inspectors. I could go on and on. I'm sure she could. And she will. In 2004, the voters in Congressional District 35 in California returned this seven time incumbent to office with a staggering 80% of the vote. In lieu of a Constitutional amendment on term limits, or Rep. Waters being recalled to her home planet, she will go on and on for as long as she wishes.
Somewhere, Herve Villechaize Is Spinning In His Little Grave/The Adults Are Talking
In Teddy "Dalrymple's" latest piece he takes a much-needed shot at a trend that does not want to die: tats. Being that my television consumption is second only to The Nihilist In Golf Pants', I like to watch a reality show called Miami Ink. The show follows the travails of a group of misfits who run a Miami Tattoo Parlor. These people are seriously talented artists as their work attests, but what is interesting from a sociological standpoint is the constant repetition of cliches from those getting tats. They speak of how getting ink sets them apart from others. How it lets them show their true personalities. How it shows that they are true individuals and don't care about what others think, man. Teddy is having none of it as he explains one of the reasons he moved from the fast-declining Britain to the less-fast-declining France: Another straw in the wind was the rising number of tattooed and pierced young people on view, as well as tattoo and piercing parlors. Ten years ago, you hardly ever saw a tattooed person in France: now they are everywhere. The small and ancient town, solidly bourgeois, near where I live has such a parlor, purveying savage kitsch to young fools. Ted is not a man to trifle or suffer fools gladly as he clearly lays out the case that tattoos are juvenile expressions of an unhealthy and immature mind: First, it was aesthetically worse than worthless. Tattoos were always kitsch, implying not only the absence of taste but the presence of dishonest emotion. Second, the vogue represented a desperate (and rather sad) attempt on a mass scale to achieve individuality and character by means of mere adornment, which implied both intellectual vacuity and unhealthy self-absorption. And third, it represented mass downward cultural and social aspiration, since everyone understood that tattooing had a traditional association with low social class and, above all, with aggression and criminality. It was, in effect, a visible symbol of the greatest, though totally ersatz, virtue of our time: an inclusive unwillingness to make judgments of morality or value. Like I said, the man doesn't mince words. Interestingly enough, even one of the owners of the Miami tattoo parlor admits that he wishes he hadn't gotten the one on his neck. Even a man steeped in this bizarre little subculture knows that a neck tattoo denotes anti-social attitudes and pretty much bars employment in places other than record stores and used clothing shops.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
And He Thought The Rabbit Was Vicious
Bret Stephens savages Jimmy Carter's latest offering in a devastating book review from today's WSJ: Jimmy Carter's 20th book is a tedious meditation about the appropriate uses of moral values in political life -- as wisely and humbly exemplified by Himself -- and of their misuses under the current Bush administration. But tedious isn't quite the right word here, because it suggests mere boredom while Mr. Carter's prose manages to be irritating as well. Is there an English-language equivalent to the German Rechthaberei, which loosely translates as the state of thinking and behaving as if you're in the right and everyone else is in the wrong? Yet even such a term doesn't quite capture the sanctimony, the self-congratulation, the humorlessness, the convenient factual omissions and the passive-aggressive quirks that characterize our 39th president's aggressively passive world view. Mr. Carter is sui generis. He deserves his own word. Everything about "Our Endangered Values" is wrong, beginning, obviously, with the title. The values Mr. Carter says are "ours" are certainly not mine and probably not yours and therefore, necessarily, not ours. In fact, it is not at all obvious that the things Mr. Carter speaks of even qualify as values, properly speaking, unless you believe that "economic justice" is a value, or you subscribe to Marxist liberation theology (Mr. Carter considers the Catholic priests who practiced this theology to be "heroes"), or you would like to pay your "personal respects" to Syria's dictator (never mind that his regime just had the prime minister of Lebanon assassinated), or you can think of nothing bad to say about Saddam Hussein except, perhaps, that he is "obnoxious."
A Royal Flip Flop?
Yesterday, Hugh Hewitt was once again up to his usual mischief and fibbing: Earlier today on the program I read a complaining e-mail about my refusal to cover much of Charles' and Camilla's American travels from Peeps/The Elder at FratersLibertas. Please e-mail Peeps all stories/photos of the Royals, and if you know anyone who knows anyone, Peeps will travel to shake the man's hand. He'll cry when you tell him. Yet just last February, as Hugh was preparing for his debate with Peter Beinart in Minneapolis, he claimed that I was distraught at the news that Prince Charles was to marry Camilla Parker Bowles because I was a fanatical admirer of Princess Diana and had come to despise Prince Charlie. That proves, of course, that his is empty rhetoric, a pose, and an indictment of his credibility on such matters. Repeated attempts to contact Hugh to explain his tangled web of deceit have gone unanswered. I'm sure that Hugh will try to claim that he was misquoted or misunderstood. But that excuse simply will not fly. Not when he will not put words to his truth, when he will not expand and let a loaded charge hang out there, slandering a fine, dedicated blogger. It's despicable, Hugh Hewitt. Speaking of Hugh and the Royal Family, I have it on good authority that he has a framed, autographed picture of the former Duchess of York hanging in his office. Apparently he credits her with saving his life. That Weight Watchers program really can do wonders. Update: Top 11 Ways Chad the Elder is Commemorating the Visit of the Prince of Wales and Duchess of Cornwall to the United States
Is It A Year Already?
You know the tune: Happy Anniversary Happy Anniversary Happy Anniversary Haaappy Anniversary Pour a cheerful toast and fill it Happy Anniversary But be careful you don't spill it Happy Anniversary Ooooo Happy Anniversary Happy Anniversary Happy Anniversary Haaappy Anniversary Ooooo Happy Anniversary Happy Anniversary Happy Anniversary Haaappy Anniversary We now state emphatically its happy anniversary Not another day could be a happy anniversary Ooooo Happy Anniversary Happy Anniversary Happy Anniversary Happy (slow) Happy (slow) Happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy (fast) Anniversary!!!
Everybody Look What's Goin' On
Cops beating and tear gassing students in a college town? Are we really reliving The Sixties again? No, just a typical Halloween in Madison.
Journaling
Where can you read articles by Heather Mac Donald, Steven Malanga, Brian Anderson, Theodore Dalrymple, and Victor Davis Hanson? All available online? The autumn edition of City Journal contains all that and much more.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Scaring Up Some Fun
Last night's Halloween mission was accomplished. Don't run out of candy and help make the evening fun for the childrens. I think that part of the fun of Halloween for kids is being a bit scared. Not overly frightened, just a little spooked. In order to facilitate that "fun fear", I do my part by decorating the house. Not the over-the-top, obnoxious, yard choked with crap kind of decorations mind you. My effort is fairly low key, but still noticeable. None of that feel good Casper the Friendly Ghost garbage either. My tastes run more towards spiders, skeletons, and skulls on stakes. Pipe in some "scary" music from the bushes and a strobe light or two and you can set a mood to send a chill or two down an urchin's spine. Of course, I don't want to scare kids away from the house completely, I just want them to approach with some hesitation. They know it's not real, but there still is that subtle hint of foreboding. That, in my mind at least, is what makes Halloween fun. Judging from the comments I heard last night; "Spooky," "Your house is scary," "Cool decorations," I believe the goal was achieved. My favorite feedback came from an inquisitive youngster who asked, "Do you live alone?" apparently believing that no one living in such a creepy looking cottage could possibly have a family. "Just me and the bodies in the crawl space," I wanted to reply. Fortunately, common sense prevailed and the sense of innocent fun was maintained for yet another Halloween.
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