Archive for August, 2006

Olbermann

Get yourself over to Crooks and Liars, because Keith Olbermann tells it like it is.

The man who sees absolutes, where all other men see nuances and shades of meaning, is either a prophet, or a quack.

Donald H. Rumsfeld is not a prophet.

Mr. Rumsfeld’s remarkable speech to the American Legion yesterday demands the deep analysis—and the sober contemplation—of every American.

For it did not merely serve to impugn the morality or intelligence — indeed, the loyalty — of the majority of Americans who oppose the transient occupants of the highest offices in the land. Worse, still, it credits those same transient occupants — our employees — with a total omniscience; a total omniscience which neither common sense, nor this administration’s track record at home or abroad, suggests they deserve.

Dissent and disagreement with government is the life’s blood of human freedom; and not merely because it is the first roadblock against the kind of tyranny the men Mr. Rumsfeld likes to think of as “his” troops still fight, this very evening, in Iraq.

It is also essential. Because just every once in awhile it is right and the power to which it speaks, is wrong.

In a small irony, however, Mr. Rumsfeld’s speechwriter was adroit in invoking the memory of the appeasement of the Nazis. For in their time, there was another government faced with true peril—with a growing evil—powerful and remorseless.

That government, like Mr. Rumsfeld’s, had a monopoly on all the facts. It, too, had the “secret information.” It alone had the true picture of the threat. It too dismissed and insulted its critics in terms like Mr. Rumsfeld’s — questioning their intellect and their morality.

That government was England’s, in the 1930’s.

It knew Hitler posed no true threat to Europe, let alone England.

It knew Germany was not re-arming, in violation of all treaties and accords.

It knew that the hard evidence it received, which contradicted its own policies, its own conclusions — its own omniscience — needed to be dismissed.

The English government of Neville Chamberlain already knew the truth.

Most relevant of all — it “knew” that its staunchest critics needed to be marginalized and isolated. In fact, it portrayed the foremost of them as a blood-thirsty war-monger who was, if not truly senile, at best morally or intellectually confused.

That critic’s name was Winston Churchill.

Sadly, we have no Winston Churchills evident among us this evening. We have only Donald Rumsfelds, demonizing disagreement, the way Neville Chamberlain demonized Winston Churchill.

History — and 163 million pounds of Luftwaffe bombs over England — have taught us that all Mr. Chamberlain had was his certainty — and his own confusion. A confusion that suggested that the office can not only make the man, but that the office can also make the facts.

Thus, did Mr. Rumsfeld make an apt historical analogy.

Excepting the fact, that he has the battery plugged in backwards.

His government, absolute — and exclusive — in its knowledge, is not the modern version of the one which stood up to the Nazis.

It is the modern version of the government of Neville Chamberlain.

But back to today’s Omniscient ones.

That, about which Mr. Rumsfeld is confused is simply this: This is a Democracy. Still. Sometimes just barely.

And, as such, all voices count — not just his.

Had he or his president perhaps proven any of their prior claims of omniscience — about Osama Bin Laden’s plans five years ago, about Saddam Hussein’s weapons four years ago, about Hurricane Katrina’s impact one year ago — we all might be able to swallow hard, and accept their “omniscience” as a bearable, even useful recipe, of fact, plus ego.

But, to date, this government has proved little besides its own arrogance, and its own hubris.

Mr. Rumsfeld is also personally confused, morally or intellectually, about his own standing in this matter. From Iraq to Katrina, to the entire “Fog of Fear” which continues to envelop this nation, he, Mr. Bush, Mr. Cheney, and their cronies have — inadvertently or intentionally — profited and benefited, both personally, and politically.

And yet he can stand up, in public, and question the morality and the intellect of those of us who dare ask just for the receipt for the Emporer’s New Clothes?

In what country was Mr. Rumsfeld raised? As a child, of whose heroism did he read? On what side of the battle for freedom did he dream one day to fight? With what country has he confused the United States of America?

The confusion we — as its citizens— must now address, is stark and forbidding.

But variations of it have faced our forefathers, when men like Nixon and McCarthy and Curtis LeMay have darkened our skies and obscured our flag. Note — with hope in your heart — that those earlier Americans always found their way to the light, and we can, too.

The confusion is about whether this Secretary of Defense, and this administration, are in fact now accomplishing what they claim the terrorists seek: The destruction of our freedoms, the very ones for which the same veterans Mr. Rumsfeld addressed yesterday in Salt Lake City, so valiantly fought.

And about Mr. Rumsfeld’s other main assertion, that this country faces a “new type of fascism.”

As he was correct to remind us how a government that knew everything could get everything wrong, so too was he right when he said that — though probably not in the way he thought he meant it.

This country faces a new type of fascism – indeed.

Although I presumptuously use his sign-off each night, in feeble tribute, I have utterly no claim to the words of the exemplary journalist Edward R. Murrow.

But never in the trial of a thousand years of writing could I come close to matching how he phrased a warning to an earlier generation of us, at a time when other politicians thought they (and they alone) knew everything, and branded those who disagreed: “confused” or “immoral.”

Thus, forgive me, for reading Murrow, in full:

“We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty,” he said, in 1954. “We must remember always that accusation is not proof, and that conviction depends upon evidence and due process of law.

“We will not walk in fear, one of another. We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason, if we dig deep in our history and our doctrine, and remember that we are not descended from fearful men, not from men who feared to write, to speak, to associate, and to defend causes that were for the moment unpopular.”

And so good night, and good luck.

Source: Bloggerman, 30 August

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Enough is Too Much Redux

Warren JeffsOK, we can officially stop talking about John Mark Karr, because we’ve got a new over whom we can all obsess: I give you Warren Steed Jeffs!

Anderson Cooper has been in New Orleans, memorializing the storm that made his career, but I bet he’s going to be on the move, headed for Vegas or Colorado City. Woo hoo!

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Enough is Too Much

John Mark KarrWell, whaddyaknow. It wasn’t his DNA after all. Who could have known that? So his story didn’t make any sense. So there was no proof he was in Boulder, and there was pretty good proof he was elsewhere. They still had to fly him in from Bangkok, just to be on the safe side, right? Piffle.

I’ve never understood why the murder of this kid has been such a big deal. Yeah, murder’s a bad thing. And it happens every day. This was ten years ago, and there have been books and countless magazine covers about the case. Why is that? I know, the media just love stories about pretty young white things in distress. They ought to rename Nancy Grace’s show “Auntie Nan’s Cavalcade of Missing Caucasian Lovelies.” But it’s been a little over a year now, and I’m pretty sure they’ve stopped talking about that high school kid from Alabama who went missing in Aruba. Was she not young enough to merit JonBenet-level attention?

Well, at least the John Mark Karr (gotta use all three names) story is over, right? Nope. Now they’re examining how such an error could have been made. MSNBC will have a primetime special on the case tomorrow night. And maybe we can get back to blaming the parents for the whole thing. A week ago everyone was going on and on about how the parents suffered through being called child killers, and how now we know they were innocent…. Well, now we’re back to not knowing they’re innocent, so we’re free to say they’re guilty again. Oh joy.

Enough already. Please. Find something else to piss me off with.

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The Mystery of Blue

VagisilAdvertising has always used euphemisms to avoid the use of terms that some might find embarrassing. Toilet paper is “bathroom tissue,” or sometimes “toilet tissue” (facial quality!). The toilet itself is the “bathroom bowl.” It’s only in the last few years that words like “menstrual” and “period” have been used rather than something like “time of the month.” treats “feminine itching” as part of “intimate care.” “Vag” is in the product’s name, for heaven’s sake! What are they afraid of?

offers “natural male enhancement,” but that’s probably because they’d be fined by the FCC if they claimed the pill was a penis enlarger.

What I find really odd is the visual euphemism of the color blue. Apparently, we can’t handle the site of any sort of bodily fluids, so instead of red, yellow, or brown, we’re given blue.

Watch any commercial for tampons or “feminine” pads and you’ll get the infamous blue fluid absorbency test. The video below is the only one I could find online, but it’s kind of a cool one. Why don’t American women mix swordplay with menstruation?

Charmin is currently touting its ‘s absorbency by pouring blue liquid onto it, so apparently it’s not just menstrual fluid that needs to be blued-over to make it safe to view.

RosieBut in the legendary Bounty adverts featuring Nancy Walker as at the diner counter, we don’t have to deal with blue. Why? Because Rosie wasn’t talking about sopping up bodily fluids.

The Museum of Menstruation and Women’s Health (oh, how I love the internet!) offers a 1927 report by a Dr. Gilbreth to Johnson & Johnson on improving their menstrual products. The use of the color blue is mentioned, but I think this might be the blue used on the packaging — it obviously has nothing to do with TV commercials.

Blue is apparently a mystery. It’s safe because it doesn’t match anything inside us, but for the same reason, it’s the unknown. Why is the sky blue? Because we don’t really understand the sky, and blue is the color of stuff we don’t know.

George Carlin had a bit about :

Why is there no blue food? I can’t find blue food — I can’t find the flavor of blue! I mean, green is lime; yellow is lemon; orange is orange; red is cherry; what’s blue? There’s no blue! Oh, they say, “Blueberries!” Uh-uh; blue on the vine, purple on the plate. There’s no blue food! Where is the blue food? We want the blue food! Probably instores immortality! They’re keeping it from us!

Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey specifically mentions blue food in the final portion of the novel, when Dave is in the apartment where he grows old. Thomas E. Brown and Phil Vendy, in their paper A Taste of Blue Food in Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey — Editing A Cinematic Landmark, discuss some of the scenes apparently edited out of his film:

Perhaps the most tantalising of all claims about 2001: A Space Odyssey is the sighting of Dave opening packs of “blue food” in his cosmic apartment. Previously considered to be nothing other than a case of ailing memory or confusion between the movie and the book, we now have it on the highest authority that this scene was indeed staged.

Arthur C. Clarke characteristically used the blue food to illustrate a point that few other writers could have achieved with anything like the same elegance and subtlety: namely, that the “aliens”, able to construct an entire environment for Dave’s comfort out of the intercepted thoughts and images broadcast into space from planet Earth, had no idea what was contained in those boxes of food (though it has to be said that this failure on their part is very unlikely, given their accuracy in all other details).

However, as indicated earlier, there is no evidence that “blue food” ever appeared in any shots actually used by Kubrick, so it is still open to debate whether it was possible for anyone to have known about or seen it.

In the foreward to the second edition, they note that

…the claims of some early viewers to have memories of Dave finding “blue food” in his hotel suite received at least some support, even if actual evidence is still unobtainable. In the first edition, our conclusion was that no such scenes had been filmed. However, it seems highly likely that Kubrick did in fact try out some shots of the food that Clarke so explicitly describes in the book.

final touchAnd the greatest blue mystery of them all: “bluing for extra whiteness”?

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Do Not Attempt

I have issues with advertising — particularly with commercials on the eye of hell.

I grew up a true vidiot, watching all the time, and I still have it on in the background a lot of the time when I work. Right now, Michael Musto is on Countdown telling me all about Tom Cruise and Sumner Redstone’s wife. Fascinating stuff. I used to sort of work for Redstone. I was sent to his home to show movies in his living room on a couple of occasions. But I digress.

In my youth, my brother Poe and I used to compete with each other to see who was faster at identifying the products in commercials, so we knew our stuff.

I expect I’ll end up writing a series of posts about the problems I have with advertising, but tonight I’d like to talk about car commercials — especially the ones that show off the wonderful things those cars can do.

  • When the cool CEO in his cool Cadillac beats his cool CFO in his cool Cadillac into his reserved parking space by doing a high speed donut in the parking garage…
  • When the dude in his Z (which keeps changing colors on him) tools around at high speed through a deserted city…
  • When a chorus line of Eclipse Spyder convertibles demonstrate their speed-sensitive sound systems by making like a graphic equalizer…

…we’re always given the all-important warning: “Professional driver on closed course. Do not attempt.

I can understand the carmakers’ desire to protect themselves and their customers. Of course they don’t recommend that you do anything foolhardy in the car (even though they’ve shown you that it can do it). The thing is, they overdo it on the safety. I remember a Hummer spot a couple of years ago that ended with an H1 or an H2 (like I know the difference) tooling down a perfectly straight, level, empty road without streetlights at dusk, but with the headlights on, at speeds that must have been close to 40 mph (around 65 km/h). And what was there at the bottom of the screen? Do not attempt!

Well, what can you attempt, then? What’s the point of buying the damned thing (yeah, I know, there’s no point in buying the damned thing) if you can’t drive it straight down a straight road? Is it really just for sitting in your driveway so people can walk by and say, “Nice ride, dude”? It’s not a ride if that’s all it’s doing!

Richard Pryor used to do a bit in which he noted that the people in beer commercials weren’t allowed to actually drink the beer. He would ask his kids what beer was for, and they’d reply, “for holding up and looking at.”

Well, have a look at this.

Apparently, such concerns didn’t exist in Japan in the 1980s. Either that, or there’s a “do not attempt” in there somewhere, but I think maybe they just felt that they were safe in assuming that, if this is what you can afford to buy, you’re not going to risk jumping it over fountains or dancing with it in a Metro station.

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Three Names Guilty

Remember that line from Animal Farm — the political slogan devised by the pigs?

Four legs good
Two legs bad

It seems to me that the American media choose to communicate that a person is bad bad bad by using their full name. Because of that, we know how they feel about John Mark Karr.

Just run a search on famous criminals — murderers, rapists, kidnappers, convicted, acquitted, or never even arrested, it doesn’t matter. As long as the press wanted you to be afraid of them, they had three names:

  • Mehmet Ali Agca
  • John Eric Armstrong
  • Kirk Douglas Billie
  • Arthur Gary Bishop
  • Kenneth Eugene Bruce
  • Frank Ray Chandler
  • Mark David Chapman
  • Norman Richard Cleary
  • Tyrone Peter Darks
  • Genero Espinosa Dorantes
  • Robert William Fisher
  • Anthony Guy Fuentes
  • John Wayne Gacy
  • Victor Manuel Gerena
  • Glen Stewart Godwin
  • Dominique Jerome Green
  • John W (Warnock) Hinckley
  • Bobby Ray Hopkins
  • Theodore John Kaczynski
  • Edgar Ray Killen
  • Edward Lewis Lagrone
  • Pedro Alonso Lopez
  • Ynobe Katron Matthews
  • Demarco Markeith McCullum
  • Frederick Patrick McWilliams
  • Brian David Mitchell
  • Robert Brice Morrow
  • Joe Elton Nixon
  • Lee Harvey Oswald
  • James Earl Ray
  • Melvin David Rees
  • Jack The Ripper (Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.)
  • John Glenn Roe
  • Raymond Dayle Rowsey
  • Orenthal James Simpson
  • Charles Laverne Singleton
  • Chester Dewayne Turner
  • Billy Frank Vickers
  • Coral Eugene Watts
  • Donald Eugene Webb
  • Cameron Todd Willingham
  • Windel Ray Workman
  • Kevin Lee Zimmerman
  • Martin Lewis Tupper

Do you recognize that last one in the list? HBO used to run a show called , starring Brian Benben (man, I love that name) and Wendie Malick. Benben played Martin Tupper, whose attention was constantly interrupted by flashbacks of old movies and television shows he’d seen on the eye of hell when he was a kid. The flashbacks always related in some way to what he was dealing with at the time.

In one episode, Martin Tupper is falsely accused of some serious crime. I can’t recall whether it was murder or rape. But while he’s panicking away, trying to figure out what to do, he hears a news report on TV about the manhunt for Martin Lewis Tupper. I’m fairly certain that’s the only time in the six or so years the show ran that we find out Martin’s middle name. And of course, you’ve got the Martin and Lewis reference in there too. As my old pal the Sprout would say, “brilliant.”

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Delaware? Please.

I warned you that I was going to write about this. If you’re not sufficiently open-minded and can’t accept the possibility of a truly global conspiracy, go ahead and return to your pornography.

Still here? Good for you. I knew I could count on you.

I’ll start off with some background information — an incident that took place right down the street at the in October of 1958.

SmootsThe Lambda Chi Alpha fraternity used their pledge, , to measure the length of the Harvard Bridge, which spans the Charles River between MIT’s campus in Cambridge and Boston’s Back Bay neighborhood. Most people actually refer to the bridge as the Mass. Ave. Bridge (since it carries Massachusetts Avenue across the river), and a few call it by its proper name (I once overheard a group of MIT students state that it’s called the Harvard Bridge because it’s so poorly engineered that MIT refused to let it be named after them), but many of us lovingly call it the Smoot Bridge.

Since then, the bridge has been completely rebuilt, but the markings are still there, they’re repainted whenever necessary, and police report on accidents on the bridge as occurring at such and such Smoot marker. The Smoot is as much a part of local lore as that Paul guy… you know — the silversmith. For your information, a smoot is about 170cm, or 5 feet, 7 inches. You can check on Google if you like.

Now, here’s the part of the story that’s not so well-known. In fact, a worldwide cabal conspires to keep the truth from us.

Word of the Smoot Bridge spread far and wide, quickly reaching Baltimore, where the Lambda Chi Alpha brothers at determined that they had to find a way to beat the MIT chapter’s — MIT’s term for a clever, benign, and “ethical” prank or practical joke.

They told their freshman pledges that they were to rewrite American history. The freshmen had to come up with a plan, get it approved by the frat brothers, and carry it out.

One pledge, James Delaware, came up with the idea of renaming Baltimore. The upperclassmen declined this one, deciding that it would never work and MIT’s chapter would never let them live it down. Then Delaware came up with a brilliant compromise: they would give a name to some area that no one paid any attention to and then get people to recognize it as official.

Welcome to DelawareThey drove out to an area near the Maryland – New Jersey border and spent one very long night putting up road signs that mapped out the borders of their new “state,” Delaware. While this was going on, other pledges broke into the university’s library to steal and alter atlases and history books, so that by morning, the original group of twelve colonies that became the United States had, at least in some resources, a thirteenth member.

Obviously, this wasn’t enough to change history. That took years. As each of the fraternity brothers graduated and went out into the world, they would seek out ways to spread their version of history and geography. The process took so long, that it was noticed by only a small number of observers.

Because so much time and labor went into the process, and because your average Hopkins grad has at least a bit more clout than most people, it eventually just found its way into history so that today, people living and working in that little corner of Maryland actually believe they’re in “Delaware.” The idea of making this fake 50th state (since it was created in the 1950s) use “the First State” on signs and license plates just demonstrates the extraordinary confidence the frat boys had in their abilities. And clearly, they were right to be confident.

Today, almost no one knows the truth about “Delaware.” This nonexistent place is even represented in Congress! The secret is jealously protected by the original pranksters, who are all in positions of great power in politics, religion and map making. One of them, James Delaware’s roommate from the frat house, is considering a run for the presidency in 2008. If Joe Biden is elected, he will certainly be America’s first president from a fictional place.

It’s all true.

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That Ol’ Dan Rivers

Abu AbdullahHe don’t plant taters, and he don’t plant cotton
But he do imply that atheists have no moral compass

I saw a report on CNN earlier today, in which Dan Rivers was interviewing , a British muslim who is very outspoken in his belief that the west deserves to be attacked by terrorists. In a voice-over, Rivers tells us of Abdullah

 

His extremist views may be repugnant to the vast majority of muslims — in fact, anyone who believes in God.

Well gee, Dan. Thanks for reminding us that atheists are never repulsed when someone advocates religious violence against people. No, we live for it, watching you lot slaughter each other because God told you to. What fun!

This sort of statement, which I’m sure wasn’t meant to imply that atheists are amoral, but does the job quite nicely just the same, reminds me of a case about ten years ago, here in The ‘Ville. A kid who was about fifteen years old had a crush on a friend’s mother. He worked up the courage to tell her, and when he was rebuffed, he killed her.

This led to a controversy regarding whether he should be tried as an adult. Somebody wrote a letter to the editor of the Boston Globe stating that he should be tried as an adult because he’d been given every chance to develop into a decent, upstanding member of society, but failed to do so. What did “every chance” entail? Family, school and church. He’d been raised Catholic.

So I wrote in a response stating that the writer of the first letter was implying that an upbringing that didn’t include religious training was an excuse for murder, and that that was (I don’t think I used these exact words) a load of crap. My letter didn’t get printed. What a shock.

You see this all the time. Theists feel perfectly free to pronouce atheists as utterly amoral, just because we don’t live in constant fear of eternal damnation. But go to a prison and I bet you’ll find that a disproportionate number of the convicts are religious.

For some reason, at least here in the United States of Jehovah, this sort of bigotry is not just commonplace; it’s not even pointed out when people spout it.

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TV by the Numbers

Television networks just love bandwagons. Friends led to a pile of shows about twenty-something urban buddies, Will and Grace made it possible for just about any show to have a token gay character.

Now, there have pretty much always been TV shows with numbers in their titles — 60 Minutes, 48 Hours, One Life to Live (or maybe 1 Life 2 Live), and recent additions include 24, The 4400, Numb3rs, Two and a Half Men, One on One and Half and Half (half’s a number, ok?)

But this season, they’re just going over the top. ABC is giving us Six Degrees, The Nine and The One (which may already be The Gone), and NBC has 30 Rock and Studio 60.

I think they may be passing coded messages based on the shows’ titles and airtimes… Trust no 1.

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