Axon Tendril

Max Keiser rages in France

2009-07-17T12:20:00.000-07:00

Day 10

2009-06-22T00:51:00.000-07:00

The action in Tehran is beginning to look (and sound) like civil war.

Insomnia Babbling, Vol. 726

2009-06-09T16:01:00.000-07:00

Eyes puffy, movements sluggish, brain fuzzy. Can't remember my last full night of sleep. Caffeine is a poor substitute for sleep. Cubicle grey death. Digits in, digits out. Pixels, logic, bank account. Sipping espresso, listening to the executive schmooze the managers. Predatory laughter. Eyes glaze.

American corporations have perfected the model of a totalitarian state, but have not the will to use it. By now, other nations have dared. Singapore comes to mind. Here in the "good ol' U S of A," we still value what relative freedom we have, though we loathe the responsibility it brings.

I heard a teenager on NPR the other day, talking about how young people these days interact with technology. (Paraphrasing) "We don't understand privacy. We're monitored closely by our parents, by our teachers, our every movement is tracked electronically. So we don't bother trying to hide anything. We broadcast our movements, our thoughts, our feelings, several times daily, on MySpace, on Facebook, on Flickr, by group-text and video on cellphones. We live publicly." Now parents are paparazzi.

I'm horrified by the thought. When I was a kid, hiding was my favorite activity. My greatest joy was in knowing that at that moment, not a soul in the world could track me down. I had hiding spots everywhere. I had a passive-aggressive deal with my parents; the more they fucked up and pissed me off, the longer I disappeared. My bicycle was a magical teleportation device, freedom incarnate, the only object my parents could threaten to take away. I'd bum a quarter off a stranger in the 7-11 parking lot in El Cajon, call them from a pay phone (remember those?) and bargain. At first, they'd be mad (come home this instant, young man) but soon they'd realize they were not in control, that I had the will, the courage, to run away. Eventually they'd haggle, and we'd work out a deal. I would come home, as long as I wasn't in trouble.

I'm only 31 and already, I'm separated generationally from Kids These Days. These social changes, they speed up from generation to generation. I've often said that while technology changes quickly, social movement changes slowly. I now get the feeling that this is changing, that social movement, though still lagging far behind Moore's Law, is catching up. Perhaps someday I'll propose my own law, in some obscure computational neurosociology journal that doesn't exist yet, and never will be on paper.

William Gibson, whose futurism cred was solid from 1982, when he coined the term "cyberspace", to 1999 when he announced he could no longer writer scince fiction (the future is unknowable because the present is incomprehensible), believes that all social change is technologically driven. If that is so, then this gnawing anomie, this hyper-accelerated ennui, this rootless social millieu in which we tenuously reside, this whirlpool of change, will become a blender. Maybe it already is.

All social institutions are quickly losing credibility. The government is a sold-out auction house, regardless of the tenants. The citizens never tire of trying to vote themselves money from the treasury, while ignoring crimes of the highest order. The fourth estate has been discredited, with most newspapers going bankrupt, and cable news reduced to incoherent babbling by lunatics. Democracy's sheen has worn off; every democratic election everywhere in the world is immediately followed by cries of foul by the losers, the vote machines now computerized, their source code a patented trade secret making a profit for corporations whose boards contain almost as many conflicts of interest as the government weapons contractors. The banking system has been exposed as a massive shell game with a back-door into the public's pocket; a baffling, poorly-designed global scam, Ponzi writ large with magic wands and slick PR propaganda. The stock markets are certainly a blender, whose movements can no longer be understood, even by the technorati who run them, the quants and algos of the early 21st century. Public schools pathetic babysitting prisons, private schools indoctrination centers for the investment class.

And yet, people still make love, still have babies (though not through the vagina as often as in most of human history). People still write songs, though few of them feel authentic anymore. Having grown up in the age of CD's and Ipod's and mp3's, we've heard millions of songs by now, and they all start to sound the same after a while. The last musicians who never heard recorded sound performed before my grandmother was born. All music is now derivative, unless you want to get way out and make industrial feedback weirdness with no time signature and no melody. People still write poetry, but few still read it. I can't quite wrap my head around the impact of waning vocabulary amidst growing visual literacy.

People still get old, but as they do, they become more cybernetic. Hearing aides, contact lenses, pacemakers, tooth-fillings, knee replacements. Their bloodstream pumps with artificial additives- drugs for cholesterol, for diabetes, for headaches, for weight-loss, for rock-hard 80-year-old erections. Old people these days are a work of art, crafted in factories by scientists working in shifts.

Trees still grow. Birds still sing. Rain still falls. And sometimes, two people connect. Deeply. Intimately. Two pairs of eyes, reflecting each other in comfortable stillness. Emotional presence. Maybe things don't change that much after all. Maybe that spark, that connection, that presence, remains. Maybe the relentless onslaught of technology, the bewildering social madness we internalize, maybe it can't change love. Maybe love is an unassailable abstraction. Maybe no matter how much people change, love never does. It keeps us sane. Keeps us human. Keeps us coming back for more.

First Bank of Scott

2009-05-11T14:38:00.000-07:00

The recent financial catastrophe, in which America's five largest investment banks have disappeared, the world's largest insurance corporation and largest mortgage holders taken over by the government, and the unemployment rate nearly doubled, has gotten me thinking. Although I'm a polymath, I typically shy away from economics. I've never given much thought as to why. I've come to realize that the language of economics sets off my bullshit detector. It's a deceptive, manipulative language, a contrived complexity. But lately, being curious why and how 13 trillion dollars of American money has disappeared has forced me to try and learn this language of bullshit.

Starting with questions like "where does money come from?" One might assume it is created by the U.S Treasury. Not so. The treasury's money comes from the taxpayer. So where does the taxpayer get it from? A glance at a green bill in one's pocket yields the phrase "Federal Reserve Note," leading one to believe that our money is created by the Federal Reserve, the central banking system created by an act of Congress. Not quite so. After some digging, I'm fairly certain (again, the language of bullshit is thick in this arena, so I'm straining here) that the Federal Reserve monitors and controls how money is created. However, the Federal Reserve is merely a collection of private banks, run by a board appointed by the U.S. President. The money, however, is actually created by the private banks themselves, in the form of credit. Out of thin air. Poof. The Federal Reserve regulates how this is done, but remember, the Federal Reserve is a fancy name for a consortium of private banks. Making this consortium a Federal Reserve gives the banking industry a back-door into the U.S. Treasury.

If you read an economics textbook, it will tell you that a customer stores his money in a bank, and the bank then lends that money to someone else plus interest, then keeps the profit. Under this paradigm, the bank always has enough money in circulation to cover its deposits. Ah, how sweet a fable that is. It hasn't worked that way for quite a while.

Banks use what's called fractional reserve banking. That means that a bank isn't actually expected to have all the money. They're usually expected to have a dollar for every three or four that they lend. This 3-to-1 or 4-to-1 ratio is called leverage. I've always considered this dangerous, but it worked pretty well for a long time. However, decades of erosion in the laws that regulate capital, many of which were constructed in the wake of the Great Depression (an era we'd all do well to study), allowed investment banks to skirt the rules. Clever men in business suits, armed with MBA's and PhD's, cloistered in Manhattan power firms, found more and more clever ways to maximize their leverage. Some of these investment banks, such as Lehman Bros. and Merryl Lynch, were leveraged as much as 40-to-1.

Now, this isn't rocket science. If you have 40 dollars in outstanding debt for every dollar you possess, you are headed for failure. This is essentially a Ponzi scheme. As long as you keep new investments coming in, you can keep paying the previous investors. For a while. As long as the richest nation in history continues to get richer, everything is fine.

But everything is not fine. Everything is fucked. National governments around the world are teetering on collapse because of this. Millions of people are hungry because of this. The world's economy has ground to a halt, and you can almost hear six and a half billion people holding their breath.

But I know that the system will not clean its own corruption. The American system is terminal. Much of the profit in this system has has been invested in the political process. The investment banks were top donors to both major candidates in the 2008 presidential race. Most secretaries of the treasury and directors of the Federal Reserve are investment bankers. The bankers own this shit. They own you. They own me. We belong to them. You think you own your house? A bank owns it. You think you own your car? A bank owns it. How does your employer pay you? In a check issued by a bank. They own this shit.

A banker in an office in mid-town Manhattan creates money in a database. POOF! He transfers some of it to himself. POOF! Then he buys food with it. All of the people involved in making that food worked their asses off- the farmer who planted and harvested it, the trucker who hauled it to the grocery store, the clerk behind the cash register, they all worked for that money. But not the banker. The banker is a tick on the ass of the American people.

Not happy with food, the banker wants more. A mansion, a sports car, a yacht. Still not content, he begins to contrive more and more complex ways of creating money. More risk, more greed, trying to squeeze blood out of American workers as they labor to build the mansion, build the car, build the yacht, clean his house, grow his food. Eventually the schemes of the bankers crash the system. But remember, the system belongs to the banker. So the bank begs the Federal Reserve for an emergency bailout. But remember, the Federal Reserve is run by the bankers. In the interest of the banking system, the private banks that fund the Fed may bail out a fucked up investment bank. However, when the entire banking system goes belly-up, the Federal Reserve goes to the Treasury and begs the Treasury to bail out the banks. And the Treasury, which is run by a former investment banker, does so. It takes trillions of dollars of money from us, the taxpayers, and gives it to the banks.

So not only do the banks create money out of thin air, using it to get American workers to create their homes and cars and food, they get to steal tax money from those same workers. Trillions. The U.S. Government so far has given, loaned, or committed $13 trillion to the American banking system. How much is $13 trillion? I'll tell you how much. It's enough money to feed, clothe, and educate every single human being on Earth. It's enough to make a huge leap forward in the evolution of the human species. Instead, it'll be used to keep the richest humans in the history of the world rich.

If you ask a banker or economist if that's how it really works, they'll roll their eyes and pat you on the head and assure you that it's much more complicated. Then they'll refer you to complex texts involving statistical analysis. But that's bullshit. It's contrived complexity. The cold, hard, fact is that every time a bank makes a loan, it is creating money out of thin air. While coins and bills are printed by the Treasury, coins and bill represent a tiny portion of our money supply. The vast majority of money is credit. Bankers, after they've waved their magic wand and created money, spend the rest of their time obfuscating the deed by using euphemistic language and complicated arithmetic to distract us from their greed. We don't have time to penetrate the bullshit because we're too busy working to get money. From a bank. That's a scam.

I'd be furious, but I know better. I'm done wasting my emotional energy on things I cannot change. So instead, I've decided to start my own bank. Hey, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. I want to create some money. I could use it to do good things instead of bad.

So I've downloaded an application to create a bank in the State of California. The application is one page long. All I need is a $5,000 fee. Then I must convince the state banking commissioner that I am a reputable person with a solid business model.

So here's my plan: raise $5,000 (venture capital, anyone?), glad-hand the commissioner, get a license, move my headquarters to the Cayman islands (so I don't have to pay taxes), apply for entry to the Federal Reserve System, bribe a few Fed governors, then declare bankruptcy, beg for a bailout, and retire to write my memoir "I am a Rich Asshole, and You are a Poor Schmuck". Then I'll go on a speaking tour. Of course, I'll donate the proceeds to charity.

I'll be in Switzerland by Christmas, where I'll apply for a job at the Bank for International Settlements .

Woody Guthrie- All You Fascists

2009-03-02T12:22:00.000-08:00

The Coming Decade

2009-02-19T13:18:00.000-08:00

Read this if you want to know what's happening to the economy.

Read this if you want some ideas of how to cope in the next decade.

Don't try to read them both in one sitting. They're long and the subject matter is intense. But do read them.

Wounded Healers

2009-02-13T17:26:00.000-08:00

burn through the pain

burn through the confusion

burn through the fear

burn with holy cleansing fire

and emerge reborn

conscious but not thinking

neither reflecting nor projecting

here now in this moment

open your heart and let feeling flow

the joy lives where the pain lives

two sides of the same coin

let them flow

face to face

flow with me

here and now

transcend this wretched beauty

two trees

lashed by the storm

bent and thrashed

straighten slowly in the morning sun

ready for spring

Hard Rain

2009-02-11T15:39:00.001-08:00

Dark clouds fill the sky. February has always left me feeling unsettled. As the economy continues to collapse, I see my loved ones facing hard decisions. More and more of my friends are unemployed. The money is running out. No one is hiring. While banks refuse to lend, house prices fall and rental prices rise. A sick feeling fills the pit of my stomach. Maybe instead of buying musical equipment and taking trips, I should have saved some more money. My job is safe for now, but for how long is anyone's guess. Our CEO called an all-hands meeting for 9am tomorrow morning. I'm trying not to worry.

The reverberations from the US financial collapse have staggered the world. Iceland's economy went bankrupt and their government collapsed. Dubai is filled with empty cars, as industrial expats watch their investments tank, the realization of Sharia's punishment for debt default sinks in, they leave the keys in the ignition and fly home on their last few dollars. The Chinese government just laid off 20 Million people. The business section of today's newspaper is a massacre. These reverberations are coming home now. We're on the edge now. This year will not be kind to any of us. Times of world-changing crisis are here.

I'm sure that in the long run, things will be fine. In the short run, we have to make tough decisions. We must be patient and remember to enjoy the simple pleasures. Try to keep your sense of perspective.

H.R. 645

2009-01-28T11:22:00.000-08:00

To direct the Secretary of Homeland Security to establish national emergency centers on military installations.

Machines Closing in on Human Abilities

2009-01-23T19:45:00.000-08:00

Reflections of Obama

2009-01-21T17:11:00.001-08:00

I used to regularly blog on politics. In the last year or two, my interest has waned, and my life has filled with other things that called for my attention. Also, spending my days reading and writing technical manuals doesn't fill me with the desire to opine after hours, for some reason.

During the first six years of the Bush Administration, I ranted and raved about their abuses, their hubris, their lies, their incompetence. Eventually, though, I just got tired of being angry. I could not possibly sum up how I feel about the savage gang of pseudo-intellectual, faux-patriotic pimps, pushers, power whores, and cronies who have run rampant over this land in the past 8 years. Whole bookshelves have been written on the subject, and perhaps, after some time has passed, I'll be able to find the words to assess the damage done and make a reckoning. But that night is not this night. This is a night for celebration.

In 2004 I was paying very close attention to the political scene, keeping an eye on the electoral race, and struggling to decide whether to vote for a walking corpse named John Kerry, or abstain altogether in disgust. On election day, I made the decision to vote for Kerry. I wanted my voice to be heard in opposition to the Bush Administration.

I regretted my decision the next day when, knowing full well the extent of voting irregularities in the last election, knowing full well the conflicts of interest created by a Republican administration that had deeply stacked the deck, Kerry rolled over and conceded defeat before the all the votes had even been counted. Later, the Comptroller General of the United States released an official report casting doubt on the validity of that election, but by that time, Bush's power was too deeply entrenched to ignore.

But something had happened during that cycle, the importance of which hadn't been immediately obvious. While purusing a news story about the 2004 Democratic National Convention, I read that the keynote speech had been given to a guy I'd never heard of. So I hopped on Youtube (which I was in the proccess of falling in love with- I'm now an official Youtube whore), and watched the speech. Out of the convention hall and into the limelight strutted a skinny young black guy named Barack Obama. I scratched my head in wonder. As he began to speak, I consulted the almighty Google and discovered that he hadn't even been elected to national office yet (although he was a few weeks later, due in some part to that speech).

I wondered "who is this guy and why is he being put up front so quickly?" But a few minutes later, as his speech began to sink in, as I watched his delivery and listened to his words, I began to get it. He moved me. Now, I am a very cynical observer of politics, and I have a pretty good bullshit detector for rhetoric, and yes, there were passages that sounded like boilerplate liberal idealism. And I've since heard old school Obama staffers laughing at that speech, which is apparently his original stump speech that he used to give to 10 people at a time in small rooms in the south side of Chicago, when he was a community organizer. But for me, that's exactly the point. Obama personally wrote every word of that speech. How many politicans can say that? Cerntainly not our last President, that meely-mouthed imbecile.

By the end of his keynote speech, I found myself nearly at the point of tears, amazed to hear a politician who sounded like he actually believed what he was saying. I could hear in his voice and see in his demeanor that he was not, like most candidates, from old money, or an established political family, had not been groomed from birth, that he had earned his way to where he was through hard work. I could feel it. And for a moment, I thought "this guy could be the first black president".

I didn't expect it to be so soon.

But here we are, scarcely four years later. These moments are generational. When, in late 2005, he asked one of his political mentors, Tom Daschle, if he thought he should run, Daschle said, "if you're ever going to do it, now's the time". He was right. We needed fresh blood. We needed a change.

Don't get me wrong. In the long run, Obama may or may not be able to change anything. I tried hard during his campaign not to fall in love with him so that he couldn't break my heart. But I couldn't pass up the chance to support what appeared to be the only political candidate in my lifetime that I could actually feel good about. I researched him as much as I could, read his critics extensively, watched all his major speeches (the 2004 DNC keynote, the Brandenburg Gate speech, the nomination acceptance speech, the speech on race, etc.), watched him debate, watched him stump. I couldn't find a single fuckup. Name any other politician and you can find a clip on Youtube of them making a major fuckup. Not Obama. Not in two long years of campaiging. The mind boggles.

He won, not only in spite of his name, race, and background, but he won decisivley, the largest popular vote in American history. He redrew the map of the American political spectrum, just like he said he would.

I promised myself when he was elected that I'd give him until at least Inauguration Day before I start kicking his ass. And yes, my friends, I will kick his ass. Because I voted for him, and because my taxes pay his salary, and because I respect my duty as a citizen in a demoratic republic to remain aware and involved, it is my duty to kick his ass.

But not today. Today, in the elevator at work, I talked to Finneus. He's the old black man that washes cars in the third sub-basement, where I park my car. We usually wave at each other, and once he helped me get into my car, when I'd locked my keys in it. Today he was grinning from ear to ear. He said he'd taken the morning off to watch the inauguration. I told him I could scarcely believe it was true. Then he said something I'll never forget. He put his hands to his face and said "I had tears streaming down my cheeks". We smiled at each other for a long moment, then I patted him on the back and walked away.

So here's to the new president, to the new American spirit. This spirit of change, the spirit of hope and renewal, may not last, it may soon be bludgeoned by the realities of war and economic collapse. But for this moment, I'm deeply grateful for Barack Obama.

Stay tuned for my next article about why Obama's national security cabinet appointments make me nervous and angry.

Steven Pinker: The Stuff of Thought

2009-01-12T02:13:00.001-08:00

This is a Farewell Kiss, You Dog!!!

2008-12-14T14:40:00.000-08:00

Fight of Our Lives

2008-12-10T12:33:00.000-08:00

Life has been good to me lately, but many of the people I care most about are suffering.

Ben Harper sings (screams, actually) in the song Better Way:

Reality is sharp, it cuts at me like a knife
everyone I know is in the fight of their life
but I believe in a better way

That's how I feel right now. There are hard times upon us. This world is full of evil people who live to take, live to inflict, live to feed on the goodness of the righteous. People reliving the pain inflicted on them by their fucked up parents, inflicting the same on their children, feeding the vicious cycle, propagating evil over and over, generation after generation. But those of us with a heart must band together. We have to take care of each other. I know that it's hard to shine love from your heart when the ticks and leeches of this world are sucking you dry, but I refuse to harden my heart. You can't fight hatred. You can't fight fire with fire. You can't kill evil. You can only absorb it. It's the only way to break the cycle. So I will absorb evil, absorb suffering. I will turn the other cheek, walk away, and find someone savable to nurture. You can't fight evil, but you can make love.

I wish I could save all of my love ones from their suffering, but all I can do is tell you all how much I love you. Hang in there. Keep your heads up. Don't give up hope. Have faith in love. Believe in a better way.

Here are some songs that I listen to when I need strength and comfort. These artists have found ways to articulate things that I feel deeply. Maybe they can comfort you and give you strength.

National Nukes

2008-11-24T01:26:00.000-08:00

Chinese

French

Pakistani

Russian

American

British

Old Newsreels

2008-11-24T00:49:00.000-08:00

Monk Fight

2008-11-11T13:16:00.001-08:00

Greek and Armenian monks box in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre... I don't speak Greek or Armenian, but it sounds like they're saying "hey, fuck you buddy, I'm trying to worship the god of tolerance, love, and forgiveness, get the fuck out of my way with your incorrect ritual before I fucking knock your ass out. Yeah, that's right, turn the other cheek, motherfucker!" I never get tired of watching religious people hurt each other. It's a beautiful thing.

Glowing Cat

2008-10-24T13:33:00.000-07:00

Scientists have created a glowing cat.

I can't wait to see how the good folks at icanhascheezburger.com handle this.

Powell Calls It

2008-10-19T10:23:00.000-07:00

For the next two weeks, I'll have my eye on the polls in Virginia and Missouri.

Missouri because politically, it's the bellweather state. Besides being geographically central, Missouri voted for the president in every election since 1948 (except 1960 and that was one of the closest elections in history). And Virginia because according the calculations, the GOP simply cannot win without this traditionally Republican state, in which Obama is now up in the polls by more than the margin of error.

Quants and Algos

2008-10-17T12:42:00.000-07:00

The Rise of the Machines

h+ Issue #1

2008-10-17T12:23:00.001-07:00

Transhumanist web-mag

Sad Guys on Trading Floors

2008-10-17T12:01:00.000-07:00

It was inevitable that someone would collect these. Snapshot of the national mood.

Degrees of Paulson

2008-10-16T20:20:00.000-07:00

Degrees of Paulson, courtesy of ProPublica.

Random Thoughts, vol. 223

2008-10-14T21:54:00.000-07:00

Hello blank page. Hello, white pixels. Hello flashing cursor. Hello keyboard buttons, symbols of abstraction. Hello characters on my screen. Hello blog readers, encapsulated as you are within the relative confines of time and space.

If a million monkeys typing for a million years could write the unabridged works of Shakespeare, can a middle-class Californian stoner with a beer, a bong, and some street-smarts craft anything of value? Anything meaningful?

There is a difference between value and meaning. Value is merely the intersection of scarcity and desire. Meaning, like melody, is harder to define. My definition of melody: the part of the song you whistle. My definition of meaning: whatever gets you out of bed in the morning. But isn't that the definition of motivation? Or is meaning the content of motivation?

None of us lives long enough or knows enough people to know for sure whether or not human nature ever really changes.

Anything you analyze deeply enough falls apart. Entropy affects even consciousness. If you define a word exactly enough, zoom into a microscope or telescope far enough, deconstruct any concept completely enough, it falls apart. I like that.

We all die in the end.

We are part of an an event we call reality, or the Universe. The cells that make up my body now did not exist when I was born, but the atoms that make up those cells were born in a star that no longer exists.

Or maybe not. Perhaps we are the work of a vengeful and jealous invisible man in the sky. Who knows? Not me. I know nothing.

Words live lives of their own. Words can provoke feelings. Words possess this power. Words can make you feel warm like an oven full of cookies on a cold, dark night. Words can make you feel sick, like bile dripping from the lips of a fresh corpse. Words can comfort like the purr of a kitten, or terrify like a knife to your throat.

The mind is a place of its own, and words are a kind of currency there (here?). Ordering and identifying, translating and exchanging, quantifying and objectifying, abstracting and specifying, logic defined by intuition.

Power. Watch this: look here. And here. See? Power.

Cause and effect? You be the judge. I am not qualified. Not yet.

Distibution and Depression

2008-10-13T23:00:00.001-07:00

Marriner S. Eccles, who served as Franklin D. Roosevelt's Chairman of the Federal Reserve from November 1934 to February 1948, detailed what he believed caused the Depression in his memoirs:
As mass production has to be accompanied by mass consumption, mass consumption, in turn, implies a distribution of wealth -- not of existing wealth, but of wealth as it is currently produced -- to provide men with buying power equal to the amount of goods and services offered by the nation's economic machinery. [Emphasis in original.]

Instead of achieving that kind of distribution, a giant suction pump had by 1929-30 drawn into a few hands an increasing portion of currently produced wealth. This served them as capital accumulations. But by taking purchasing power out of the hands of mass consumers, the savers denied to themselves the kind of effective demand for their products that would justify a reinvestment of their capital accumulations in new plants. In consequence, as in a poker game where the chips were concentrated in fewer and fewer hands, the other fellows could stay in the game only by borrowing. When their credit ran out, the game stopped.

That is what happened to us in the twenties. We sustained high levels of employment in that period with the aid of an exceptional expansion of debt outside of the banking system. This debt was provided by the large growth of business savings as well as savings by individuals, particularly in the upper-income groups where taxes were relatively low. Private debt outside of the banking system increased about fifty per cent. This debt, which was at high interest rates, largely took the form of mortgage debt on housing, office, and hotel structures, consumer installment debt, brokers' loans, and foreign debt. The stimulation to spend by debt-creation of this sort was short-lived and could not be counted on to sustain high levels of employment for long periods of time. Had there been a better distribution of the current income from the national product -- in other words, had there been less savings by business and the higher-income groups and more income in the lower groups -- we should have had far greater stability in our economy. Had the six billion dollars, for instance, that were loaned by corporations and wealthy individuals for stock-market speculation been distributed to the public as lower prices or higher wages and with less profits to the corporations and the well-to-do, it would have prevented or greatly moderated the economic collapse that began at the end of 1929.

The time came when there were no more poker chips to be loaned on credit. Debtors thereupon were forced to curtail their consumption in an effort to create a margin that could be applied to the reduction of outstanding debts. This naturally reduced the demand for goods of all kinds and brought on what seemed to be overproduction, but was in reality underconsumption when judged in terms of the real world instead of the money world. This, in turn, brought about a fall in prices and employment.

Unemployment further decreased the consumption of goods, which further increased unemployment, thus closing the circle in a continuing decline of prices. Earnings began to disappear, requiring economies of all kinds in the wages, salaries, and time of those employed. And thus again the vicious circle of deflation was closed until one third of the entire working population was unemployed, with our national income reduced by fifty per cent, and with the aggregate debt burden greater than ever before, not in dollars, but measured by current values and income that represented the ability to pay. Fixed charges, such as taxes, railroad and other utility rates, insurance and interest charges, clung close to the 1929 level and required such a portion of the national income to meet them that the amount left for consumption of goods was not sufficient to support the population.

This then, was my reading of what brought on the depression.

2008-10-13T21:51:00.001-07:00

First Charles Krauthammer called it for Obama.

Then Christopher Hitchens called it for Obama.

Now Christopher Buckley calls it for Obama.

Here's how I'm calling it: only an October Surprise can stop Obama now.

And this is the perfect year for an October surprise. There is a strange alignment of power vacuums in the world at this moment.

All of Them

2008-10-01T11:32:00.000-07:00

Fall From Power

2008-09-30T14:03:00.001-07:00

This article in the Gaurdian is clear, concise, and feels like a gut-punch.

Crisis of Confidence

2008-09-30T12:27:00.000-07:00

I think this article sums it up nicely.

Heaven's Gate

2008-09-25T00:55:00.000-07:00

Who Will Stop Al Franken?

2008-09-22T23:05:00.000-07:00

Won't someone think of the children?

Fact Sheet

2008-09-17T20:24:00.001-07:00

Just so ya know...

Support the War(s)

2008-09-17T20:00:00.000-07:00

Marjoe (in 9 parts)

2008-09-16T15:12:00.000-07:00

An interview with Marjoe Gortner, by Jim Siegelman:

Marjoe Gortner was the first Evangelical preacher to blow the whistle on his profession. In his documentary film, Marjoe, made in the late sixties, he revealed age-old tricks of the trade and exposed some of the entertainment aspects of the popular movement that have made it big business.

If he lives forever, Hugh Marjoe Ross Gortner will most likely always be "The World's Youngest Ordained Minister." Born January 14, 1944, Marjoe was almost strangled during delivery by his own umbilical cord. The obstetrician told his mother that it was a miracle the child survived, and thus "Marjoe" -- for Mary and Joseph -- the Miracle Child, took his place at the end of a long line of Evangelical ministers.

From the beginning, his preaching skills were meticulously cultivated. Before he learned to say "Mamma" or "Poppa," he was taught to sing "Hallelujah!" When he was nine months old his mother taught him the right way to shout "Glory!" into the microphone. At three, he could preach the gospel from memory, and he received drama coaching and instruction in every performing art from saxophone playing to baton twirling. On Halloween, 1948, at the age of four, Marjoe was officially ordained and thrust into a wildly successful career as the Shirley Temple of America's Bible Belt, the sprawling non-geographic community of strict adherents to the Christian scriptures. In the following decade he preached to packed tents and houses coast to coast, as enthusiastic audiences flocked to see the Miracle Child who allegedly received sermons from the Lord in his sleep. Owing to his mother's careful training, harsh discipline, and indomitable ambition, Marjoe's sermons were flawlessly memorized, right down to each perfectly timed pause and gesture. Frequent Hallelujahs and Amens punctuated his performances, which were cleverly promoted with titles such as "From Wheelchair to Pulpit" and "Heading for the Last Roundup," which Marjoe preached wearing a cowboy suit.

Marjoe's captivating sermons rarely failed to fill the church collection plate to the brim, and his renowned faith healings were miraculous even to him. In his teens, however, Marjoe grew disenchanted with the continued deception of his divine powers. He left the Evangelical movement in search of more legitimate means of employment. He spent some time in a rock band, trying to move with the changing times; then he returned to the Evangelical circuit to make his revealing motion picture. Marjoe is one of those frank films that delves deeply into sensitive areas of American morality that slip over the line into profiteering.

We found Marjoe in Hollywood last year, where he now resides on a secluded hilltop estate in Laurel Canyon. After we drove up the winding dirt road that leads to his lofty home, Marjoe greeted us cordially and ushered us into his sunken living room, where he pointed out some familiar features of the sprawling southern California landscape visible through his wall-sized picture window. We told him that we had come to hear about his miraculous powers of "saving" and "healing," trade secrets that neither his film nor his subsequent biography unraveled satisfactorily. Tall, handsome, with lion-colored curls and a penetrating stare, even in T-shirt and faded jeans Marjoe had an air of power about him. From the outset of our talk, however, he squashed all notions we might have had that his talents were in any way extraordinary.

"I don't have any power," he started off, just to set the record straight. "And neither do any of these other guys. Hundreds of people were healed at my crusades, but I know damn well it was nothing I was doing."

Yet, Marjoe admitted, he remained somewhat baffled by the thousands of souls he helped to "save" and the numerous illnesses he seemed to have cured. His own insight into his preaching skills was on a decidedly earthly level. Based on his years of training and experience, he located the source of his divine power squarely out among the flocks who assembled to receive his gifts.

"You start with a guy who obviously has a problem," he explained. "You've got to begin on that premise. Things haven't worked out for him, or he's looking for something, or whatever. So he goes to one of these revivals. He hears very regimented things. He sees a lot of people glowing around him -- people who seem very, very happy -- and they're all inviting him to come in and join the clique and it looks great. They say, 'Hey, my life was changed!' or 'Hey, I found a new job!' That's when he's ready to get saved, or Born Again; and once he's saved, they all pat him on the back. It's like he's been admitted to this very special elite little club."

Marjoe downplayed his own role in the proceedings. As he saw it, the real show was in the audience; he served primarily as a conductor.

"As a preacher," he said, "I'm working with the crowd, watching the crowd, trying to bring them to that high point at a certain time in the evening. I let everything build up to that moment when they're all in ecstasy. The crowd builds up and you have to watch it that you don't stop it. You start off saying you've heard that tonight's going to be a great night; then you begin the whole pitch and keep it rolling."

For Marjoe, who has seen it a million times, the divine moment of religious ecstasy has no mystical quality at all. It is a simple matter of group frenzy that has its counterpart in every crowd.

"It's the same at a rock-and-roll concert," he asserted. "You have an opening number with a strong entrance; then you go through a lot of the old standards, building up to your hit song at the end."

The hit song, however, is spiritual rebirth, the product of a time-tested recipe for religion to which the preacher and every member of the audience contribute some small but active ingredient. Then, according to Marjoe, the only fitting encore to the overwhelming moment of becoming saved is a personal demonstration of the power of that newfound faith. This is the motivating factor that prompts speaking in tongues, also known as the "receiving of the glossolalia." As Marjoe explained it, this well-known Evangelical tradition requires even greater audience participation on the part of the tongues recipient and the entire audience.

"After you've been saved," Marjoe continued, "the next step is what they call 'the infilling of the Holy Spirit.' They say to the new convert, 'Well, now you're saved, but you've got to get the Holy Ghost.' So you come back to get the tongues experience. Some people will get it the same night; others will go for weeks or years before they can speak in tongues. You hear it, you hear everyone at night talking in it in the church, and they're all saying, 'We love you and we hope you're going to get it by tonight.' Then one night you go down there and they all try to get you to get it, and you go into very much of a trance -- not quite a frenzy, but it is an incredible experience.

"During that moment the person forgets all about his problems. He is surrounded by people whom he trusts and they're all saying, 'We love you. It's okay. You're accepted in Christ. We're with you, let it go, relax.' And sooner or later, he starts to speak it out and go dut-dut-dut. Then everyone goes, 'That's it! You've got it!' and the button is pushed and he will in fact start to speak in tongues and just take off: dehan-dayelo-mosatay-leesaso ... and on and on."

Marjoe paused. Flo was dumbfounded by his demonstration, although he hadn't gone into the jerking, trance-like ecstasy that is commonly associated with the tongues movement. I'd seen the classic version in his movie, yet even in this restrained demonstration, Marjoe appeared to be triggering some internal releasing or babbling mechanism. I asked him how he brought it about.

"You'll never get with that attitude," he joked. Then he went on to explain the true nature of the experience. His perspective showed it to be a process that requires a great deal of effort to master.

"Tongues is something you learn," he emphasized. "It is a releasing that you teach yourself. You are told by your peers, the church, and the Bible -- if you accept it literally -- that the Holy Ghost spake in another tongue; you become convinced that it is the ultimate expression of the spirit flowing through you. The first time maybe you'll just go dut-dut-dut-dut, and that's about all that will get out. Then you'll hear other people and next night you may go dut-dut-dut-UM-dut-DEET-dut-dut, and it gets a little better. The next thing you know, it's ela-hando-satelay-eek-condele-mosandrey-aseya ... and it's a new language you've got down."

Except that, according to Marjoe, it's not a real language at all. Contrary to most religious understanding, speaking in tongues is by no means passive spiritual possession. It must be actively acquired and practiced. Although the "gift" of tongues is a product of human and not supernatural origin, Marjoe displayed tremendous respect for the experience as an expression of spirituality and fellowship.

"I really don't put it down," he said. "I never have. It's just that I analyze it and look at it from a very rational point of view. I don't see it as coming from God and say that at a certain point the Holy Spirit zaps you with a super whammy on the head and you've 'gone for tongues' and there is it. Tongues is a process that people build up to. Then, as you start to do something, just as when you practice the scales on the piano, you get better at it."

Already, we could see the difference between Marjoe and some of his modern-day fellow preachers and pretenders. Unlike many cult, group, and Evangelical leaders, Marjoe has always held his congregation in high regard. During his years on the Bible Belt circuit, he came to see the Evangelical experience as a form of popular entertainment, a kind of participatory divine theater that provides its audiences with profound emotional rewards. Marjoe realized that his perspective would not be shared by most Born Again Christians.

"The people who are out there don't see it as entertainment," he confessed, "although that is in fact the way it is. These people don't go to movies; they don't go to bars and drink; they don't go to rock-and-roll concerts -- but everyone has to have an emotional release. So they go to revivals and they dance around and talk in tongues. It's socially approved and that is their escape."

Within that context of social entertainment, Marjoe took pride in his starring role as a traveling evangelist.

"It was my duty to give them the best show possible," he said. "Say you've got a timid little preacher in North Carolina or somewhere. He'll bring in visiting evangelists to keep his church going. We'd come in and hit the crowd up and we were superstars. It's the charisma of the evangelist that the audience believes in and comes to see."

What got to Marjoe, he explained, and eventually drove him out of the business were many of the same disturbing aspects of the Evangelical movement we had noticed in our own travels and interviews.

"When I was traveling," he said, looking back on the old days, "I'd see someone who wanted to get saved in one of my meetings, and he was so open and bubbly in his desire to get the Holy Ghost. It was wonderful and very fresh, but four years later I'd return and that person might be a hard-nosed intolerant Christian because he had Christ. That's when the danger comes in. People want an experience. They want to feel good, and their lives can be helped by it. But then as you start moving into the operation of the thing, you get into controlling people and power and money."

Marjoe shook his head sadly. Indeed, he didn't strike us as the type of person who would be comfortable in that role. In the sixties, while he was exploring new outlets for his talents, he watched his former profession grow to vast international dimensions. Since then, he has followed the curious rise of America's religious cults, among them Reverend Moon's Unification Church.

"Moon is doing the same thing I do," said Marjoe, "only he's taken it one step further. He's suggesting to people that he is the Messiah. In my religion, the old-time religion, it's total blasphemy to suggest that. Moon has gone too far, but that's a heavy number on people, because everyone wants to meet a Messiah."

Marjoe was quick to point out that Moon's preaching powers, like his own, are by no means divine or even innate. Marjoe acknowledges that his power over an audience derives primarily from the skills of rhetoric and public speaking that have been passed down to us from the Greeks. Those tools have long been in the public domain, and they make up the stock-in-trade of everyone whose work involves personal contact with other individuals and groups.

"It's the same whether you're a preacher, a lawyer, or a salesman," he told us. "You start off with a person's thought processes and then gradually sway him around to another way of thinking in a very short time."

Although Marjoe no longer consciences the use of his preaching talents for evangelical purposes, he still uses his skills in areas that have nothing to do with religion.

"I was campaigning for Jerry Brown when he was running for governor," he said. "I gave speeches when he couldn't show up. This was a whole different kind of speech for me, because I didn't know the people and the whole thing was political. One time I was supposed to go to a rally for a thousand AFL-CIO workers in San Francisco, and I thought, Oh, no, how am I going to talk to these guys? I needed a hook to get the audience, because I knew a person's mind is usually made up within the first minute or so. If they like you and you say the right things at first, then you can take them on to other things they might not ordinarily agree with. But all I had to go on was that, and structures of speech I knew from preaching."

He paused again, allowing us a moment to consider his predicament.

"When I got there they were a little hostile," he continued, "and I was very nervous about it. There was a podium with two flags on it, an American flag and a California state flag. I walked up -- it was very quiet -- and as I was walking up there it came to me, I don't know from where. I grabbed the American flag and I crinkled it in my hand. I looked at it and sort of gave it a little toss back against the wall and said, 'I remember when Betsy Ross made that flag. Today it's made in Japan.' Well, a roar went up as that struck a chord in those workers, and I was God from that moment on."

Today Marjoe restricts the use of his talents to his acting career and to social causes he deeply believes in. Foremost among those causes is informing the public about some of the rhetorical techniques that are being used to manipulate their thoughts and emotions. Most techniques Marjoe is in command of are simple and age-old, but so effective that they can be equally powerful even when and audience has been explicitly forewarned of their use. Toward the end of our conversation, Marjoe told us a story that revealed the fineness of his rhetorical skills. In contrast to the massive physical experiences such as intense group rituals and intimate personal crises that have been recognized as major contributors to the snapping moment, Marjoe demonstrated how words alone, artfully manipulated, may be used to influence groups and individuals, even to the point of evoking the overwhelming emotional response of being "saved."

"I lecture in about twenty colleges a year," he began, "and I do a faith-healing demonstration -- but I always make them ask for it. I tell them that I don't believe in it, that I use a lot of tricks; the title of the lecture is 'Rhetoric and Charisma,' so I've already told them the whole rap explaining how it's done, but they still want to see it. So I throw it all right back at them. I say, 'No, you don't really want to see it.' And they say, 'Oh, yes. We do. We do!' And I say, 'But you don't believe in it anyway, so I can't do it.' And they say, 'We believe. We believe!' So after about twenty minutes of this I ask for a volunteer, and I have a girl come up and I say, 'So you want to feel better?' And I say, 'You're lying to me! You're just up here for a good time and you want to impress all these people and you want to make an ass out of me and an ass out of this whole thing, so why don't you just go back and sit down?' I get really hard on her, and she says, 'No, no, I believe!' And I keep going back and forth until she's almost in tears. And then, even though this is in a college crowd and I'm only doing it as a joke, I just say my same old line, In the name of Jesus! and touch them on the head, and wham, they fall down flat every time."

The Prosecution of George W. Bush for Murder

2008-09-15T18:57:00.000-07:00

Sarah Palin and the Third Wave

2008-09-15T18:55:00.000-07:00

Solar Cycle in the Hills

2008-08-09T11:32:00.000-07:00

These shots were taken from the window and front door of my new habitat over the course of about 12 hours.

Before dawn

The sky lightens

First light

Morning

Afternoon

View from the front door

Last light

Sunset

Window

Fun with McCain

2008-08-08T14:47:00.001-07:00

Thanks to TPM Media.

Police entrap Md. mayor, shoot dogs.

2008-08-01T13:39:00.000-07:00

There's so much wrong with this story that I don't know where to start.

Marriage

2008-07-24T21:15:00.000-07:00

A few thoughts about marriage:

1. The only good reason for marriage that I can think of is to raise a family. You can have a loving, long-term, and cohabitating relationship without marriage. But raising one or more human children to maturity is a full-time team effort. It requires a long-term contract. That's marriage.

2. The family continues to be the dominant social force. All human relations are inherently tribal, although the definition of tribal continues to expand- from family, to tribe, to nation, to species. Families are the basic cultural unit.

3. I don't think it matters who the adults in the family are as long as they are committed, loving, intelligent, and competent adults. Gay, straight, polygamist, whatever, I think that who you are as a parent is more important than what you are. And if you raise your children well, they'll understand that (unless they're just assholes. I firmly believe that some people are just genetically assholes, no matter how well you raise them).

4. I cannot think of a single compelling reason why marriage should have a legal status. But I'm a libertarian.

Slate's Bush Admin Corruption Venn

2008-07-24T16:52:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but I have a hard time keeping track of the Bush Administration's malfeasance. With all the shenanigans going down in the Oval Office from day to day, seeing the big picture can be tricky. Fortunately, our friends over Slate.com have created an interactive Venn-diagram to help us out. Go ahead. Play with it.

One thing I've noticed is that Bush's Attorneys General, especially Alberto Gonzales (or as I call him the weasel-faced prick), are central to these schemes. And that makes sense. The Attorney General is America's leading law enforcement official. So if you want to get away with some underhanded shit, that's the guy you want in your pocket. And Gonzales was a Bush toadie from way back in the Texas governor's mansion. Bush's nickname for Gonzales (Bush nicknames everyone: psychologists have theories about that habit) was Fredo. You know, the dumb but loyal guy in the Godfather. Which reinforces my theory that government is just a protection racket.

Business as Usual

2008-07-14T18:17:00.000-07:00

I live for this stuff. I'm addicted. As much as I hate the sick corruption of politics, I can't turn away from its seductive drama.

This video shows "consultant" (political fixer) Stephen Payne meeting with an undercover reporter and a representative of Askar Akayev, former president of Kyrgyzstan. During the fall of the Soviet Union, Akayev was selected (or elected, depending on how you look at it) by the Supreme Soviet to be the first president of the fledgling republic of Kyrgyzstan. He ruled until 2005, when his government was overthrown by a mob.

In the video, Payne suggests that for a few hundred thousand dollars, he could arrange for Akayev to meet with a high-level politican who would then make a statement about what a great guy he is, which would help his credibility in running for a new term of office in his homeland. The donation would be made to the Bush Library, which is not required by law to disclose it's donors.

This is just one example of what I call "deep politics". While the media pundits are busy covering the electoral distractions of official political business, the real action goes down in backroom deals where guys like Stephen Payne exist. Middle-men who keep the pump of corruption primed. They keep the cash flowing and hidden. They keep a priceless rolodex, their stock in trade. But Payne isn't just some schmuck with a few phone numbers, he sits on the board of the Homeland Security Advisory Council, is a 20 year associate of the President, and has traveled across the planet with the Vice President. When he offers to hook up a meeting with Cheney for a smooth 750K, he's not fucking around.

But this isn't just another "republicans are corrupt" rant. Notice that while most of the individuals Payne mentions are Bush cabinet officials, he also names Joseph Biden, the Democratic chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. This reminds me that while the Republican party is measurably more corrupt, both parties together run a corrupt system of politics that rules this, the most powerful nation in history. And even though I trust Obama, and I think he's a decent guy, the first decent candidate in my lifetime, remember, he is still a party man. His cabinet will be party people. They will cut checks to hacks like Stephen Payne, to do their dirty work and keep it well hidden. Obama can't fix the system, and if he did, he would probably be assassinated.

Civil Servants and Spies

2008-07-01T16:23:00.000-07:00

Hundreds of police, firefighters, paramedics and even utility workers have been trained and recently dispatched as "Terrorism Liaison Officers" in Colorado and a handful of other states to hunt for "suspicious activity" — and are reporting their findings into secret government databases.

Launching the Private Network

2008-07-01T13:47:00.000-07:00

In 1987 the United States Congress concluded an investigation of what came to be known as the Iran-Contra scandal. This wide-ranging collection of covert operations, headed primarily by CIA Director William Casey and little-known NSC staffer Oliver North, involved secretly selling weapons to Iran (a violation of U.S. law, since Iran was officially listed as a state sponsor of terrorism), then secretly channeling the profits to various Nicaraguan paramilitary groups, (in violation of a U.S. law known as the Boland amendment).

This investigation uncovered a plethora of illegal and quasi-legal actions ranging from terrorism to drug-running, to money-laundering, to propaganda, all over Latin America and the Middle-East, in the name of fighting the Communist threat. Although many of the perpetrators were convicted by Congress of various crimes against the American people, most of them were pardoned by President George H.W. Bush. Sadly, many of those perpetrators, such as John Poindextor, Otto Reich, John Negroponte, and Elliot Abrams, later found work in the Bush Jr. administration.

However, one facet of the story never made it into the final congressional report. A chapter was left out. As it turns out, the Democratic majority on the committee allowed themselves to be bullied by the ranking Republicans, including Republican Whip Dick Cheney, into leaving that section out.

This section has now been released. It was buried deep in the congressional record and discovered by journalist Robert Parry. Titled Launching the Private Network, this fascinating document explains how the CIA, the National Security Council, and the State Department, secretly channeled taxpayer money to private public relations and news organizations, to manage the perception of the media, the American people, and the United States Congress. The document refers to this as "public diplomacy". In other words, they ran a covert propaganda operation on us. On me and you. They did the kind of thing they've always done against hostile nations, but they did it to our nation. I've always assumed the government does this and I guess I'm not surprised to be proven right.

Oh, and by the way, Oliver North, the liaison between the CIA and the NSC, whose official duty it was to lie to the Congress and manipulate the American public through use of the media? He has his own show on Fox News now.

I'm reminded of a question Noam Chomsky asked a while back: if the American media were not free, but were instead a propaganda arm of the US government, would it look substantially different from Fox News?

Hersh on Iran

2008-06-30T16:36:00.001-07:00

Thanks for Everything, Uncle George

2008-06-23T00:10:00.000-07:00

George Carlin died today. I'd hoped he would hold out longer, but he had long term heart problems.

George Carlin was the most prolific and successful live standup comic who ever lived. From the time he started performing live comedy routines in 1957 to his last show a week ago in Vegas, he never stopped performing. In terms of total ticket sales, no comic even comes close. His career oversaw the transformation of standup comedy from stale, cliche joke-telling, into an art form. His comedy so defined his era that it wound up being debated by the Supreme Court, who considered it dangerous enough to serve as an example of what we should censor.

But to me, he's just Uncle George. That's how I feel about him. I discovered Uncle George at the age of 15, a crucial turning point in my life. I had turned my back on the church, starting smoking pot and dropping acid, given up on school, and gotten kicked out of my mom's house and sent to live with my dad in the desert, where there was nothing to do. Angry, miserable, and bored, I starting snooping around and found some old comedy LP's that my step-mother had stashed away. Among them were a Cheech and Chong record and George Carlin's FM & AM. Cheech and Chong were good for a low-brow chuckle, but Carlin's masterful wordplay and melodic, almost musical delivery, captivated me.

I forgot about him for a while, but when I was 17, my friend Scurvy came over and put on What am I Doing in New Jersey? followed by Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics. It was like an implosion in my frontal lobe. The polished writing, the perfectly honed delivery, the masterful language, the pacing, the melody were unlike anyone I'd ever heard. He was able to take some of the most complex, deeply rooted philosophical struggles of our age, and summarize them with flawless logic, while squeezing the laughter right out of your guts.

By now, I've heard all of his 23 albums, seen all of his 14 HBO specials, read all three of his books, and seen him live twice. I can't think of any other media figure to whom I have devoted that much of my time to. I guess I just liked the sound of his voice, the way his mind worked. He questioned everything, found humor in everything, vented his rage at everything. After listening to him for all these years, his voice is now a permanent voice in my head, right up there with my freinds and family. And I don't have many heroes. But George Carlin was my hero.

Now that Bill Hicks, Hunter S. Thompson and George Carlin are all dead, I guess I'm done with heroes. I don't need them any more. I can make it on my own from here.

Thanks for everything, Uncle George. I'll miss you. And your eyebrows.

The Eye, the Clerk, and the Archetypes

2008-06-09T23:08:00.000-07:00

Lonely tonight, but not gregarious. Just another Monday night. Apathy.

I drive to the video store, looking for some chuckles. Just as I make my decision to see the Onion Movie, a pair of teenage girls passes me and one of them gives me the Eye. I pretend not to notice. I know that Eye. Nothing but trouble. These two are teenage girls in an archetypal sort of way, at the hormonal apex of puberty. Vain, insecure, selfish, sporadic, fickle, and foolish.

They beat me to the checkout counter, laughing obnoxiously at nothing in particular. Eye Girl tosses the video at the clerk, who fumbles it. His face darkens into a frown. I know this clerk 's face by now. This guy is always here. I think he's the assistant manager. Mid-forties, slightly dorkish. Trying desperately to pretend that he still has some dignity, but badly beaten down by years of standing behind the cash register, taking abuse from rude teenage girls who have no respect for anyone, including themselves. This store is his own personal hell.

Tonight, he's tightly wound. I can see it in his eyes. Like he's about to snap. He's tense in a way Eye Girl can't possibly understand. He sees through her, beyond her individuality, to her essence, her Archetype, brilliantly illuminated beneath fluorescent bulbs. He sees it. Teenage girls eventually become bored house-wives, but when you're standing behind the counter at the video store, watching years go by in maddening time-lapse, they seem to stand still, encapsulated, always the same. This is the girl who wouldn't give him the time of day in high school, who hurt his feelings and made him feel small. And now he's forty and still working a shitty job and still taking shit from her. Not her specifically, but HER, timelessly. The unfairness of life is now fully in his face, crushing him.

His voice is monotone. “Phone number?”

“You know what it is,” she sneers. I guess she's a regular. “No, I don't,” he fumes. She rolls her eyes and rattles off her number far too quickly to be heard. Now he's pissed. “Slower,” he growls. She repeats it with agonizing slowness, in a mocking, sing-song tone, locking eyes with him, daring him to slap her. He unlocks the movie, slams the plastic guard on the counter, takes her five-dollar bill with a look of barely suppressed rage that seems to amuse her. I start to get a little nervous. He fixes her with a glare, slams the change on the counter and mutters “next customer in line” in a dark tone of voice that implies "I hope it hurts when you die." She scoops up the video, and as she slinks toward the door, gives me the Eye again. My gaze is sexless and penetrating. I proceed to the counter.

“Number,” he whispers, not even making eye contact. He is, at this moment, a broken man, and it is painful to behold. So I deliver the requested digits at just the right pitch, volume, and tempo; respectfully, deferentially. I let him control the rest of the transaction, allowing him to decompress and regain the illusion of dignity. Then I thank him, and wish him a good night. His weak smile of appreciation is bittersweet. Now I am the Archetype of the decent customer.

I drive home musing on how grateful I am that I probably will never have to work that job again.

Beware Bullshit Power Grabs

2008-05-22T12:12:00.000-07:00

According to the Minneapolis/St. Paul City Pages, the FBI's Joint Terrorism Task Force is actively seeking "moles" to infiltrate "vegan potlucks" in the Twin Cities area. The purpose of this action is to spy on groups who intend to protest the Republican National Convention in Minneapolis later this year.

When protest is viewed by the feds as terrorism, the Bill of Rights is suspect.

This isn't the first time the JTTF has investigated domestic political dissenters under the rubric of protecting America from "terrorism". And they aren't the only "anti-terrorist" operation in domestic law enforcement to keep tabs on political dissent.

The Fresno Sherriff's Department's anti-terrorism task force got caught spying on anti-war protesters in 2003.

I could cite lots of other examples, but I don't have time, and if you actually cared, but I get tired of leading the horse to the trough.

Back in 2002-2003, when the federal government began expanding and consolidating the authority of the national security establishment, in response to the 9-11 attacks, people like me- dissenters who never trust the government for any reason whatsoever- complained that the government already had too much power, that we should stop the feds from expanding their authority, that it amounted to a power-grab. Political pundits at the time, mostly conservative ones, responded with statements like "what do these protesters have against protecting America from terrorism?" I even heard one pundit warn ominously that "protesting against anti-terrorism is itself terrorism."

I'm not stupid. I know about COINTELPRO. I know enough history to know that power always seeks more power, under any rubric, and through any guise. The ostensible reasons never match the underlying motivation. It's called Mission Creep. One minute they're claiming to protect you, the next minute they're investigating you. Protecting you from you is the job of the feds. We're all suspects. If you investigate anyone long enough, you will find them breaking a law. We're all guilty. But the feds already have too much power. If you don't believe me, ask yourself why America has more citizens living in prisons than any other nation on Earth, by volume, and per capita.

After the 9-11 attacks, every federal official in the nation began clamoring for some of that post-9-11 national security money, paid for by our taxes. More contracts, more offices, more resources. Once they've got the contracts, they spend their days justifying their bloated budgets by scaring you into thinking they're keeping you safe. There aren't many actual terrorists in America, so the national security establishment spends its time fighting the only enemy that can reduce its power: American citizens.

So what can we do about it? Not a goddamned thing. Only our elected representatives can change the law and they're too worried about their media image to rock the boat. If they criticize the national security establishment, the feds cry foul, the think tanks start calling newspapers, and the next day the headline reads "Senator is soft on terrorism". Our whole system is rigged to expand power, away from us, and into the hands of the power-whores who claim that it's for our own good.

Fuck them.

Obama

2008-05-19T22:54:00.000-07:00

I'm starting to think this guy might be the next president of these here United States.

Obama drew 75,000 people to the Willamette River (I used to live near there) in Portland, OR. It's the largest political rally so far in this election. His delegate edge over Hillary Clinton is now sufficient to feel the scales tipping toward his nomination on the donkey ticket.

Just look at all those people. John McCain could never draw a crowd like that, but then, McCain doesn't need to: he is an elephant. Liberals may thrive in clusters, which is why the Democrats do so well in urban settings, but conservatives are more spread out, giving Republicans the rural boost. The GOP can nickel and dime the electoral college, in places like Montana, Wyoming, and North Dakota, while Democrats nail a few big prizes like California, Illinois, and New York.

Midterms usually predict cultural moodswings, and the GOP got their asses handed to them last round, and have been losing contested seats since. I think McCain will be drowned by the millstone of the Bush legacy. Bush is the turd in the punchbowl. No other president has been so unpopular for so long, and his war in Iraq has lost the support of the people. Every election after a war begins is a referendum on the war.

Unless there is an October surprise, Obama's got this nailed. Let's not forget that he's raised the most money, which is the final indicator, the penultimate litmus test for an American presidential candidate, the proof that the powerful men who run this country have given you the nod. After all, even Warren Buffet and Zbigneiw Brzezinski openly support Obama.

The race goes not always to the swift, nor the battle always to the strong, but statistically, that's the smart way to place your bet. However, I'm not giving 10-to-1 odds anymore. I almost lost my shirt betting on the GOP in the 2006 midterms.

Fisk Retires

2008-05-17T00:54:00.000-07:00

Robert Fisk, veteran Middle-East war correspondent, explains his recent retirement from journalism:

Muto@blublu

2008-05-16T18:50:00.001-07:00

MUTO a wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.

Score One for the 10th Amendment

2008-05-16T18:13:00.000-07:00

Dave Mattis, Sherriff of Bighorn County, Utah, said at a recent press conference:

"I am reacting in response to the actions of federal employees who have attempted to deprive citizens of my county of their privacy, their liberty, and their property without regard to constitutional safeguards. I hope that more sheriffs all across America will join us in protecting their citizens from the illegal activities of the IRS, EPA, BATF, FBI, or any other federal agency that is operating outside the confines of constitutional law. Employees of the IRS and the EPA are no longer welcome in Bighorn County unless they intend to operate in conformance to constitutional law."

Mattis and other members of the Wyoming Sherrif's Association had recently won a District Court case (Case No. 2:96-cv-099-J (2006)) against the BATF and IRS for mucking around with Wyoming citizens without notification or consent of the sherrif. Said the District Court: "the duly elected sheriff of a county is the highest law enforcement official within a county and has law enforcement powers EXCEEDING that of any other state OR federal official."

Chaconne and Hahn

2008-05-12T18:11:00.000-07:00

I discovered Chaconne in 2002.

I had bought a cheap CD 4-pack of classical composers earlier that day, while shopping for other things. When I got home, I listened first to the Bach CD, Bach being my favorite composer. While I listened, I began to write, and as I did, my mind opened up in that way that the mind sometimes does during moments of contemplation. A song began that I had never heard. The first few notes stopped my writing. I sat and listened to the entire piece, mesmerized at its heartbreaking beauty.

And then I forgot about it until about a year ago, when I heard the piece while listening to NPR. The young man performing it, Joshua Bell, is a rising star in the classical world. He talked about the piece he was playing, Chaconne in Dm; about its complexity and range. He said that in his opinion, the Age of Enlightenment began with the composition of that piece.

Since then, my fascination with the Chaconne has only increased.

It was the final movement of Bach's Partita in D minor for solo violin, written some time between 1717 and 1723. The Partita contains five movements: Allemanda, Corrente, Sarabanda, Giga, and Ciaccona. The last movement (called Chaconne in English), is longer than the rest of the movements combined, a 256-measure harmonic masterpiece in both major and minor modes, using every violin technique that was known in Bach's time. (If you really want to dissect the musical theory behind the Chaconne, check out Larry Solomon's article here.)

Johannes Brahams wrote of the Chaconne: "On one stave, for a small instrument, the man writes a whole world of the deepest thoughts and most powerful feelings. If I imagined that I could have created, even conceived the piece, I am quite certain that the excess of excitement and earth-shattering experience would have driven me out of my mind."

In the past few months, I've listened to many performances of the Chaconne. I've heard most of the 20th century violin masters perform it: Jascha Haifetz; Yehudi Menuhin; Nathan Milstein; and Yitzhak Perlman, whose performace was my favorite until today.

I listen to music in my headphones while I work. In the morning, I typically listen to something steady and upbeat- techno or rock. In the early afternoon, I often listen to something aggressive- punk or metal. In the late afternoon, I sometimes listen to classical for focus during the home stretch. Today I wanted to hear Chaconne, but I was tired of listening to the masters play and wanted to hear a young fresh take on the piece. On a whim, while browsing through a youtube search, I clicked on a link for a performance by a young woman named Hilary Hahn, and then I continued to work.

About a minute later, I stopped and spent the next eighteen minutes sitting quite still. It was like hearing it for the first time. I realized that I'd never heard a woman play it before. Hahn's performance is slower, more graceful. Her tone is clear and pure. Her phrasing is balanced and dynamic. Her use of vibrato is restrained and consistent.

Having lost eighteen minutes of work, I attempted to return to my duties, but the silence was deafening, so I found other clips of Hahn's performances. They are captivating.

Here, she plays with the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra:

And here, she performs Der Erlkoenig. Her agility in this piece is startling. It's an orchestral piece, but she performs it unaccompanied, playing many of the voices simultaneously. See how her whole body moves between voices. At several points, you can hear her plucking notes with her left hand while bowing their counterpoints with her right:

I've just discovered an interesting twist. In 2005, Hilary Hahn toured with a young up-and-coming folk singer named Josh Ritter. Ritter began college studying neuroscience and ended up with a degree in American History through Narrative Folk Music. A man after my own heart. Below is a video clip of the two playing Ritter's song Thin Blue Flame, but first some thoughts about this clip.

I like the lyrics in this one. I've heard of a lot of good folk music from the decades between the Great Depression and the Vietnam War, but since then most of it has been bad protest songs. This particular song is about today. Hahn and Ritter remind me of a 21st Century Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. It's intriguing to see that though Hahn is already a master of classical technique, she is not afraid to branch out into simpler music, less analytical and more intuitive. Classical was the music of kings, but folk is the music of, well, the common folk. During her classical performances, her expression is masterful, focused and calm. Here, she is searching, not yet content. See the way she looks at Ritter when he sings the line "peace in the valley" near 7:30.

And for some reason, this one put tears in my eyes, while Hahn was playing her solo, around 5:20- 6:10. I think it's because as much as I enjoyed her rendition of Chaconne, I'd rather hear her play from the heart.

Justice Beckons

2008-05-02T19:55:00.000-07:00

According to columnist Ted Rall, the Washington D.C. Chief of Police has probable cause to arrest U.S. President George W. Bush (and his principles) for authorizing torture resulting in the murder of innocent persons, in violation of treaties which carry the full force of U.S. law. In a functioning democracy, this would actually mean something.

The Spotlight and the Laser Beam

2008-04-28T14:13:00.001-07:00

said the laser beam to the spotlight

your focus is too wide

can you not see the fine details

I have locked within my sight?

said the spotlight to the laser beam

the big picture's what I seek

if your focus is too fine

you'll miss the forest for the trees

Mysterious Butterflies

2008-04-24T17:02:00.000-07:00

About four years ago, I was spinning my wheels, working a crappy job and going nowhere when I decided one day to pick an outrageous ambition and go all the way with it. My life needed focus. I began several long months of intense soul-searching. What do I want to accomplish? Which leads to the question of what really matters? I began to review my intellectual life, which really began around the age of 8, when my reading ventured into encyclopedias, atlases, books of science, and philosophy. This interest in the "big picture" has taken various forms throughout the years, leading to an interest in history, poetry, politics, journalism, technology, and finally biology. Here I really started to dig in, working at a zoo and taking some biology courses in community college. I also read several very influential books during this period, including The Age of Spiritual Machines by Ray Kurzweil, The Seven Mysteries of Life by Guy Murchie, and The Lucifer Principle by Howard Bloom.

Finally, I settled on the brain. The reason for this is difficult to articulate simply. Human behavior has always fascinated and sometimes puzzled and even disturbed me. Not just the behavior of other individuals, or the behavior of crowds (in high school, I fantasized about starting riots), but my own behavior. My interest in behavior caused me to contemplate the intricacies of the human mind, which led me to the study of psychology. After some research on the subject, I became estranged from what we call psychology, partially due to bad experiences with psychiatry, and partially due to the subjectivity of the discipline.

At this point, I began to wonder how the brain is correlated with the mind. This line of thought has taken root in my mind, and presumably my brain, with growing strength, ever since. What is the relation of the mind to the brain? Brains can exist without minds, but as far as we know, minds cannot exist without brains. Studying minds is tricky because although we all have one, they are entirely subjective. Science has no traction with the subjective. However, through brain scanning, we can at least correlate the function of the mind with the function of the brain. We can begin, however primitively, to quantify human thought in a meaningful way.

Why is this so important to me? Well, let's take a look at the big picture. From what we know of the geological and fossil record, we can piece together a general timeline of life on Earth. From Prokaryotes to Eukaryotes, to bacteria, to DNA, to fish, to mammals, to humans, what we see are epochs of evolution. One generalization we can make from the available data is that each epoch took less time and resulted in greater intelligence. Intelligence seems to increase exponentially throughout geological time. From what we know of physics and chemistry, it appears that life is an emergent property of matter, and that intelligence is an emergent property of life.

Now, looking specifically at the development human species, we see the exponential evolution of intelligence speed up yet again. From speech, to fire, to the wheel, to agriculture, to cities, to writing, to philosophy, to the printing press, the Renaissance, the enlightenment, the industrial revolution, the computer age, the space age, and so forth, we see that the time between these events grows less and less, so that the computer age and the space age happened simultaneously and bled into the information age, in which we now exist. Scientific breakthroughs happen daily. The speed of computer chips doubles every few years, and has since before I was born. The price point per calculation of not just CPU's, but RAM, and storage devices is greater than exponential.

The human brain is the culmination of billions of years of evolution. And it's inside our fucking heads. I wish to break it open and pour it out, to find its secrets and illuminate them for all to see. And I'm just in time. Neuroscience (or biopsychology, if you prefer) is maturing. Unlike most sciences, there isn't even an overall theory. Biology has Darwinism and Physics has Relativity, but the best Neuroscience can do is the theory of neural function as a basis for epistemology. And there is a shitload of work to do in that area. A colleague of mine warned that I might find the field crowded when I apply for PhD. We should all be so lucky, I replied.

A little under two years ago, I got a job that pays decent money. Now I can save up for a Bachelor's in Neuroscience. I can pay for it in cash. When I tell people my plan to study neuroscience, they often hesitate for a moment and then ask why. I've never been able to muster a satisfactory response. The best reason I can come up with is in a quote from the father of Neuroscience, Santiago Cajal. But first, let me explain Cajal.

In 1899, Cajal mastered Golgi's technique for staining brain tissue for viewing under a microscope. At that time, there was disagreement among anatomists regarding the nature of brain tissue, whether composed of cells like the rest of the body, or a tangled web of threads, as it seemed from viewing under microscopy. Neurons, or nerve cells, had been identified in the body, and a nervous system was generally theorized, but the theory that the brain is composed mainly of these cell was unproven at that time.

Using tissue from a pigeon's cerebellum, Cajal was able to isolate and sketch in great detail two neuron cell bodies, which were connected by many of the fine threads that had puzzled anatomists. His original sketch of these cells, the first record of the neurons of the brain, is below:

Cajal later identified the synapse and did a great deal of the founding work in the field of neuroscience, winning a Nobel Prize in 1906.

When writing his memoir, decades later, he turned to the question of why studying the brain was so captivating to him. His answer is now my answer:

"Really, the garden of neurology offers the researcher captivating spectacles and incomparable artistic emotions. My aesthetic instincts find there full satisfaction. Like the entomologist catching beautiful butterflies, my attention pursued in the garden of gray matter, the delicately and gracefully shaped cells, the mysterious butterflies whose wing beats might some day reveal the secret of mental life."

The Perfect High

2008-04-24T16:50:00.000-07:00

Years ago I memorized this poem to keep me company on long trips, and for fun at parties, and because I have to give my brain things to do or else it does things I can't predict. Anyway, a few months ago, I was in downtown San Jose, doing some filming for Scurvy at redtriangleproductions.com.

He asked if I had any interesting material, so I suggested we film the Perfect High while walking down Market Street. I didn't expect much, but it came out alright considering it was a single take, done on a cheap old camcorder, with a few audio touch-ups added later. The train at the end was pure luck.

Enjoy.

Arms Sales Notification

2008-03-31T23:12:00.000-07:00

Hang on to this URL:

http://www.dsca.mil/PressReleases/36-b/36b_index.htm

It's the kind of thing that seems important.

How Bear Stearns default threatens the entire world financial system

2008-03-25T16:18:00.000-07:00

Check out the video at the bottom of this webpage. It's a good explanation of the current credit meltdown, courtesy of the MacNiel/Lehrer News show.

Don't Let Zombie Jesus Distract You

2008-03-23T11:26:00.000-07:00

This morning the sun is warm, the breeze is cool, and the sky is a perfect blue. I walk along the creek trail, looking up. In my peripheral vision, I notice a small bird sitting on the upward-facing tip of the tallest branch of the tallest tree on the trail; its head facing up, its chest thrust out, singing a bold and joyful melody.

As if to say

Spring is here

Beijing 2008?

2008-03-20T17:13:00.000-07:00

China, the rising star of Asia, will host the 29th modern Olympiad later this year in Beijing. The Olympiad is often viewed by the host nation as a chance to polish its media image and receive an economic boost.

A communist dictatorship undergoing agonizing quasi-capitalist reforms, China has functioned for at least a decade as the factory of world industry. In a global marketplace, labor costs are competed to the lowest common denominator. Chinese laborers by the hundreds of millions fill that need. The Chinese economy has exploded in the past decade, and a hefty chunk of the profits have been spent on military might. China is now a major player, though frequently excoriated by western media for it support of repressive regimes around world.

This week, riots flare in Tibet.

Chinese military forces roll in.

What happens next? The Chinese government in recent decades has shown its willingness to assert control despite public opinion. Tibetan Buddhists are the darlings of the western media. The tension is mounting.

What about the big picture? In the next few decades, China's rise may reach parity with America's decline. What then?

By the way, I don't trust anyone that answers to the title "his holiness":

P.S. Here's a short filmclip from the year 1959, when the Dalai Llama, leader of the Tibetan Buddhists, ran away with his tail between his legs:

Religion vs. Philosophy

2008-03-18T17:56:00.000-07:00

We must distinguish religion from philosophy.

Let us begin by defining our terms according to the American Heritage Dictionary.

re·li·gion (rĭ-lĭj'ən)
n.

1. Belief in and reverence for a supernatural power or powers regarded as creator and governor of the universe.
2. A personal or institutionalized system grounded in such belief and worship.

phi·los·o·phy (fĭ-lŏs'ə-fē)
n.

Love and pursuit of wisdom by intellectual means and moral self-discipline.

According to a standard American tool for defining words, philosophy is the intellectual pursuit of wisdom, and religion is the ritualized belief in supernatural power. Intellect vs. faith.

This is a crucial distinction, one that is often blurred by the fact that all religions contain a philosophy, whether stated or unstated. Let's use an example, one that I was raised with and most Americans claim to believe. Christianity.

The philosophy of Christianity is a common-sense set of guidelines for social behavior: love your neighbor; treat others as you want to be treated; turn the other cheek; blessed are the peace-makers; he among you who is without sin cast the first stone. These are good ideas and most cultures agree with them generally.

The religion of Christianity is in John 3:16- For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him will not die, but will live forever.

A supernatural being who sent his son to die for your shortcomings, and if you believe that, you'll live forever. Blind faith in the unobservable.

I find that most Christians use Christianity as a philosophy and a social tool, while paying lip service to the religion. Smart religious people don't take their religions very seriously. If they did, they'd be stoning the neighbors to death or flying airplanes into buildings.

In My Language- A M Baggs

2008-03-02T21:31:00.001-08:00

The first few minutes of this video might be tedious for most people to watch, but bear with me.

Saga of the Weeping Baby Kitten

2008-02-28T23:31:00.000-08:00

Early Thursday morning:

Can't sleep.

There's a crying baby kitten under my living room closet. Under. Like under the building. I've walked around the building but can't find any way under there. The living room closet is just about dead center in the middle of the building. Way deep. It sounds like just one kitten, but sounds too young to have gotten all the way under there by itself, so I guess its mama put it there. Or maybe it crawled away from a litter and the mama can't get it out. I don't know. I just know I can't get it out and it's been crying for several days and keeping me even more awake than usual. Tonight, its crying is especially hysterical and persistent, a piteous sound that tugs the heartstrings. And I don't think there's anything I can do about it.

It's 5am and a weeping baby kitten is impossible to ignore. It strikes a nerve deep in the paternal instinct. Now I'm afraid I'll have to listen to it slowly die.

Haven't slept yet.

Guess I'll drink some beer and listen to Tom Waits.

Late Thursday night:

Slept for an hour, after baby-kitten-under-the-floor got tired of crying. Spent the day in an important meeting at work, straining to keep my eyes open and form coherent sentences. When I got home, I knelt inside my hall closet and knocked on the floor. Silence. My heart skipped a beat. I put my mouth to the floor and called out "baby kitten, wake up!" A faint cry. "Come on, baby kitten, don't die yet!" Louder crying now, with gusto but still I could hear weakness in its tiny voice.

I walk outside determined to scour the back of the apartment complex looking for a way under. Immediately I see two maintenance guys in the parking lot, packing up their tools and preparing to leave for the day. "Hey, do you know a way under the building?" I ask them. "There's a baby kitten stuck under there." One of them, the one whose face I immediately dislike, stares blankly at me. The other, whose face I don't dislike, says "there's a trapdoor in the back".

He walks me to the back of the apartment and points to a small door under the far side of my neighbor's apartment, just big enough to crawl through. I stick the upper half of my body in and wait for my eyes to adjust. He he goes back to his van, returns with a flashlight. I crawl in and take a look around.

It's cramped and dirty. Smells foul. Feces and spiderwebs everyhere. I call out and Baby Kitten starts crying with vigor. Deep in. There's a space along the right side the building just big enough for me to belly crawl through the dirt under the planks of wood that make up my neighbor's floor (I can hear him washing his dishes).

I hesitate. I'm sure there are black widows down here. And dead things. And who knows what else. The maintenance guy behind me says "go for it, dude. I'll come in and pull you out if you get stuck."

I crawl forward, flashlight in hand, trying not to think about claustrophobia and spiders and horror movies. I'm trying not to bump my head on the planks, but a rusty nail catches me, scratches my scalp. My elbows are scraping in the dirt. The flashlight's beams strobing over planks and concrete, shadows dancing. After 10 feet or so, I call out. Baby Kitten cries. I keep crawling forward.

I get across my neighbor's apartment and make a left turn underneath my apartment; wiggle under electric conduits that barely admit my body into the inner core of the crawlspace under the apartment complex. I'm out of maintenance guy's sight at this point and frankly, he's hefty, so if I get stuck, I'm not sure he can reach me.

I'm crawling through spider webs now, my breath audibly shaky as I focus on not having a full blown claustrophobic freakout. I'm practically using peristaltic motion at this point. Baby Kitten can hear me now and is really letting loose. Ahead of me is a six inch high concrete barrier. I manage to get my head over it and there is the baby kitten, laying all alone, eyes not even open yet, crying piteously and squirming.

I grab the kitten and immediately realize I can't turn around. I start wiggling backward through the crawlspace with the kitten in one hand and flashlight in the other, my shirt rolling up and my full torso exposed now to the dirt and shit and spiderwebs as I crawl back unitl my feet touch the wall. After a three-point turn, I crawl back to the trapdoor and emerge triumphantly to present the critter to the two maintenance guys. The guy whose face I don't like still wears his natural leering expression of uncaring. The other guy is glowing. "You're a hero," he says.

I took it inside and snuggled it with one hand while searching the internet for no-kill shelters. I found one and drove out there, petting the kitten with my right hand while steering, signaling, and shifting with my left. Its head is the size of the first knuckle of my thumb. The kitten is quiet now, content to be touched. It's tired, but not beyond repair.

The lady at the shelter explained that baby kittens need constant sustained attention, which their staff doesn't have the capacity for. She suggested I feed it baby kitten formula, then she directed me to PetSmart. I drove there and sought assistance from a couple of employees while they cooed at the kitten. I drove home and tried to feed it, but it wasn't quite ready to eat yet. It just wanted to be held.

I wanted to keep it, but my apartment doesn't allow them and my lease isn't up until August. I'll be at work all day tomorrow and I'm going to a wedding this weekend, so I can't give the kitten the attention it needs. Fortunately, a friend who is a stay-at-home mom offered to nurse it for 24 hours while I find a home for it. My friends in Hayward, one of whom has a four year old who wants a cat, agreed to adopt it. I agreed to pay the medical bills.

Now I can sleep.

Friday Morning:

Monday afternoon:

Bad news. The baby kitten died. We're not sure why.

Oh, well.

Life goes on for us. For a while. Life is temporary and we should all be grateful for this one whether or not it conforms to our expectations. I did my best and that's all I expect from myself. I may not have saved the kitten, but I learned something about myself.

There will always be more kittens.

Information

2008-02-26T21:12:00.000-08:00

I'm an information junkie. As a kid I was fascinated by "reference" books. I'd delve through atlases, encyclopedias, dictionaries, books about biology, chemistry, history; stuff I didn't even understand, it just looked cool; all those symbols. It seemed obvious that there was logic to it, that it was therefore understandable.

Now with the internet, I have near constant access to a vast trove of knowledge. I'm always looking for more. I've often been disappointed that government and business organizations so jealously guard their data.

One area of information that interests me is polling. The only accurate way to judge what a population of people thinks is to ask them. There are a variety of methods and a variety of well-established polling firms. One of the largest polling and analysis systems in the world is Gallup World Poll. It performs long-term, wide-scale polling in over 140 countries, representing 95% of the world's population, according to widely accepted criteria.

Want to see the data? Fork over $28,500. Of course, not many people can afford that. And that's the point. Exclusive data. Data is money. Money is data. Data moves mountains these days.

As the digits of money in a banking database represents the labor of millions of people, so the data visualizations in World Poll represent the thoughts of millions of people. Access to either database is for team members only. The digits in a bank database measures private property. The data in World Poll measures private thoughts. The individuals being polled freely give their thoughts to the Gallup Organization. Those thoughts then become Gallup's private property, to be traded on the open market. If you've ever been polled by the World Poll, well... it'll cost you $28,500 to find out what you think.

This is important. When it comes to quantifying human thought (a worthy endeavor, I'd say), surveys are the subjective side of the coin, as opposed to the objective- for example, neuroscience. So while in some ways, the internet realizes the freeing of information that began during the Renaissance (when the printing press spread literacy beyond the priests and merchants), in other ways, it represents the same heirachies of exclusivity.

Here's another example from recent news: An ISP in Pakistan recently shut down huge chunks of the internet inadvertently as it attempted to block all youtube videos containing cartoons which depict Allah.

Just goes to show the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Culture Clash

2008-02-26T20:07:00.001-08:00

In America, secularism is on the rise. A recent survey of 35,000 Americans conducted the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life showed that "unaffiliated" is now the 4th largest religious category here.

Meanwhile, in majority Muslim countries, according to one of the largest surveys of Muslims in history (concluded recently), 95-99% of people say that religion is very important to their lives.

Campaign Weirdness in Dallas

2008-02-22T11:06:00.000-08:00

The Secret Service stopped Dallas police from searching people at an Obama rally.

Why would they do that?

Isn't Dallas the city where the Secret Service backed off of JFK's motorcade about 10 seconds before his head was blown off?

Now I read that a motorcycle cop guarding the Clinton campaign has died after rounding a corner too fast and hitting a curb.

Dallas and political tragedy go hand in hand I guess.

The Texas Democratic primary will be on March 4th. If Obama wins (as he has won the last 11 Democratic primaries), he will almost certainly be the Democratic nominee for President, and considering the weakness of the GOP and McCain's almost total lack of charisma, will probably be the next president of the United States. Keep an eye on Texas.

Blue Marble in Menlo Park

2008-02-19T23:30:00.000-08:00

Insomnia. Tuesday night. So far so good. Got some things done at work today. Ducks in a row for tomorrow. My next promotion is coming this summer. Big money. Eyes on the prize. Halfway past winter already. My car is paid off. My life is moving.

Take it slow. Be in the the Tao. Keep moving but don't forget to rest. Two years ago I lived off the kindness of friends. Now I feel like a space shuttle blasting off. I can fly wherever I want on the weekends. I can furnish and decorate, buy new clothes. I can build a music studio in my apartment, buy a hi-def camcorder and a boom mic, make movies, score them, upload them to the web. Why not? The world is my oyster, whatever that means.

But take it slow. Life is long. Don't rush, and don't forget to study. Stay current with my stock in trade. Words and numbers. Watch them fall like dominoes of doom, right where I drop them.

Was bored when I got home. At 6:45, I checked the craigslist event listings and found “Web 2.0 Mapping and Social Networks February Meetup (Menlo Park). Everyone welcome, free admission.” A gathering of nerds. I'd better investigate. After all, I'm a web 2.0 dork. I embed flash videos in blogs without a second thought. I even hacked my blogspot account by sifting through the source code until I found the column width, then adjusted it pixel-by-pixel. I like to stay ahead of the proverbial curve. Besides, I thought, they probably have free food (I've already eaten dinner: chicken and zuchinni, but old habits die hard).

I drive up to Menlo Park in the rain to a small but attractive high-tech corporate meeting room (one of thousands of similar rooms in the Silicon Valley). Formica counter in a rectangular U across three walls, chairs inside and outside the U. Small microphones embedded in the Formica for call-in meetings. Data Jacks for video-meetings. Digital projector screen in the fourth wall for power-point presentations.

Programmers, journalists, marketers, and small-time venture capitalists. Masters degrees and PhD's. Middle-crust corporate-geek socialites. A businessman from Germany; a programmer from Thailand; an AP reporter (off the clock, or so he claims); a photographer; a shaggy academic-type whose interest was “meta-cognition”. We went around the room introducing our names, what our web 2.0 interest is and what our favorite city is. I said “I'm Scott and I'm just a curious guy with nothing to do. My favorite city is Black Rock City, Nevada.” That got a few chuckles. I could have said “technical writer, technology enthusiast, aspiring gonzo journalist and my favorite city is anywhere but Fresno.” But who cares who I am? I'm just here because it's cheaper than a movie.

A couple of guys from NASA Ames Research Center gave a presentation. The young Asian guy is a graphics specialist. He had an XPS laptop jacked into a projector. The white-haired guy is a NASA project manager. He did most of the talking while graphics guy manipulated the XPS with a handheld USB device I've never seen before. Someone asked him how much the device costs. He says they're down to $60. Not bad. It's not as cool as the touch screens coming in the next few years (like the one in my consilience post), but it's a hell of a lot cheaper.

They showed us World Wind. A 4 terabyte 3-D spatial map of planet Earth, at 15 meters-per-pixel resolution. It's fast, smooth, and beautiful . Similar to Google Earth, but open source. Anyone with a browser and 16MB of storage (and a cheap graphics card) can view it and anyone with the right programming knowledge can mod it. This thing is compatible with VR goggles. Better yet, anyone with 4TB server space can host it, lay whatever code they want on top. Think Second Life writ large. Early next decade, I think, massively multiplayer online games will be overlaid on a scale sized model of Earth, updated in real-time. Think Neal Stephenson's Metaverse. Cyberspace is gaining on us. Soon there will be a thousand satellites, a billion videophones, a trillion RFID tansmitters. Big weirdness coming.

We sat and watched the digital cloud patterns over Silicon Valley as white-haired guy answered questions. My eyes riveted to the glowing screen, I could see a huge storm pattern over northern California. Just over the San Francisco peninsula, moving slowly east, is a clear spot. Although had been raining when I got there, I could hear that the sky was quiet now beneath the speaker's voice. A few minutes later, I watched the hole in the clouds drift over the mountains onscreen, heard the sound of rain on the walls and windows outside the conference room. The speaker was interrupted by a flash of light through the venetian blinds and then a clap of thunder. A chill ran up my spine. My mind, juxtaposing the action on the screen with the action I heard through the walls. My frontal lobe is in two places. Thinking: we've come a long way in a couple hundred years. That's when the speaker tells us that Earth isn't the only planet we can play with in World Wind. They've mapped Jupiter, Mars, and Venus. This is some heavy software.

When their speech was over, I grabbed a plate full of catered food, walked it to my Corolla in the pouring rain and ate while I drove home, pondering.

I've been playing with World Wind for hours. It's awesome. I zoomed into the SF zoo and saw a polar bear. From space. The Scientific Virtualization Studio can show earth at night, water temp, infrared, cloud patterns, topographical, aurora, solar flux, and more. Data sets added regularly. The white-haired speaker mentioned trying to crack open the government's data sets. Let's hope he succeeds.

Go ahead, play with it.

Mother of all Meltdowns?

2008-02-19T18:19:00.000-08:00

I tried to post a link to this, but it the FT website kept asking for a password. I hope Martin Wolf doesn't mind that I'm reposting it. Seems kinda important. Although it might be funny to get a Cease and Desist letter from an economist for sending his dire warning of doom to others without his getting his express written permission to warn my loved ones about the widespread chaos he claims is near. shrug

America’s economy risks mother of all meltdowns

By Martin Wolf, Financial Times columnist

“I would tell audiences that we were facing not a bubble but a froth – lots of small, local bubbles that never grew to a scale that could threaten the health of the overall economy.” Alan Greenspan, The Age of Turbulence.

That used to be Mr Greenspan’s view of the US housing bubble. He was wrong, alas. So how bad might this downturn get? To answer this question we should ask a true bear. My favourite one is Nouriel Roubini of New York University’s Stern School of Business, founder of RGE monitor.

Recently, Professor Roubini’s scenarios have been dire enough to make the flesh creep. But his thinking deserves to be taken seriously. He first predicted a US recession in July 2006*. At that time, his view was extremely controversial. It is so no longer. Now he states that there is “a rising probability of a ‘catastrophic’ financial and economic outcome”**. The characteristics of this scenario are, he argues: “A vicious circle where a deep recession makes the financial losses more severe and where, in turn, large and growing financial losses and a financial meltdown make the recession even more severe.”

Prof Roubini is even fonder of lists than I am. Here are his 12 – yes, 12 – steps to financial disaster.

Step one is the worst housing recession in US history. House prices will, he says, fall by 20 to 30 per cent from their peak, which would wipe out between $4,000bn and $6,000bn in household wealth. Ten million households will end up with negative equity and so with a huge incentive to put the house keys in the post and depart for greener fields. Many more home-builders will be bankrupted.

Step two would be further losses, beyond the $250bn-$300bn now estimated, for subprime mortgages. About 60 per cent of all mortgage origination between 2005 and 2007 had “reckless or toxic features”, argues Prof Roubini. Goldman Sachs estimates mortgage losses at $400bn. But if home prices fell by more than 20 per cent, losses would be bigger. That would further impair the banks’ ability to offer credit.

Step three would be big losses on unsecured consumer debt: credit cards, auto loans, student loans and so forth. The “credit crunch” would then spread from mortgages to a wide range of consumer credit.

Step four would be the downgrading of the monoline insurers, which do not deserve the AAA rating on which their business depends. A further $150bn writedown of asset-backed securities would then ensue.

Step five would be the meltdown of the commercial property market, while step six would be bankruptcy of a large regional or national bank.

Step seven would be big losses on reckless leveraged buy-outs. Hundreds of billions of dollars of such loans are now stuck on the balance sheets of financial institutions.

Step eight would be a wave of corporate defaults. On average, US companies are in decent shape, but a “fat tail” of companies has low profitability and heavy debt. Such defaults would spread losses in “credit default swaps”, which insure such debt. The losses could be $250bn. Some insurers might go bankrupt.

Step nine would be a meltdown in the “shadow financial system”. Dealing with the distress of hedge funds, special investment vehicles and so forth will be made more difficult by the fact that they have no direct access to lending from central banks.

Step 10 would be a further collapse in stock prices. Failures of hedge funds, margin calls and shorting could lead to cascading falls in prices.

Step 11 would be a drying-up of liquidity in a range of financial markets, including interbank and money markets. Behind this would be a jump in concerns about solvency.

Step 12 would be “a vicious circle of losses, capital reduction, credit contraction, forced liquidation and fire sales of assets at below fundamental prices”.

These, then, are 12 steps to meltdown. In all, argues Prof Roubini: “Total losses in the financial system will add up to more than $1,000bn and the economic recession will become deeper more protracted and severe.” This, he suggests, is the “nightmare scenario” keeping Ben Bernanke and colleagues at the US Federal Reserve awake. It explains why, having failed to appreciate the dangers for so long, the Fed has lowered rates by 200 basis points this year. This is insurance against a financial meltdown.

Is this kind of scenario at least plausible? It is. Furthermore, we can be confident that it would, if it came to pass, end all stories about “decoupling”. If it lasts six quarters, as Prof Roubini warns, offsetting policy action in the rest of the world would be too little, too late.

Can the Fed head this danger off? In a subsequent piece, Prof Roubini gives eight reasons why it cannot***. (He really loves lists!) These are, in brief: US monetary easing is constrained by risks to the dollar and inflation; aggressive easing deals only with illiquidity, not insolvency; the monoline insurers will lose their credit ratings, with dire consequences; overall losses will be too large for sovereign wealth funds to deal with; public intervention is too small to stabilise housing losses; the Fed cannot address the problems of the shadow financial system; regulators cannot find a good middle way between transparency over losses and regulatory forbearance, both of which are needed; and, finally, the transactions-oriented financial system is itself in deep crisis.

The risks are indeed high and the ability of the authorities to deal with them more limited than most people hope. This is not to suggest that there are no ways out. Unfortunately, they are poisonous ones. In the last resort, governments resolve financial crises. This is an iron law. Rescues can occur via overt government assumption of bad debt, inflation, or both. Japan chose the first, much to the distaste of its ministry of finance. But Japan is a creditor country whose savers have complete confidence in the solvency of their government. The US, however, is a debtor. It must keep the trust of foreigners. Should it fail to do so, the inflationary solution becomes probable. This is quite enough to explain why gold costs $920 an ounce.

The connection between the bursting of the housing bubble and the fragility of the financial system has created huge dangers, for the US and the rest of the world. The US public sector is now coming to the rescue, led by the Fed. In the end, they will succeed. But the journey is likely to be wretchedly uncomfortable.

Consilience

2008-02-14T22:46:00.000-08:00

Meme War

2008-02-13T11:24:00.001-08:00

Battle of the cartoon

Our ideas use us to fight their battles, much like nation-states use terrorists to fight proxy wars, to avoid nuclear annihilation. Religious memes are especially successful. Believe or die. Think like me or suffer eternally. The devil made me do it.

Our ideas live lives of their own. They reproduce, sometimes asexually through mitosis, as when one person mimics another. They can reproduce sexually, as when two people bring their own ideas together in conversation, and come away with new ideas. They live in books, clustered in colonies called libraries. Exploding now, in the internet.

Memes can evolve, can die, become extinct. They can transcend consciousness, as when we bring an idea to fruition. But when they fight, we all suffer. The Muhammed bomb cartoon conflict is a prime example of meme war. The current Islam meme is rigid and uncompromising, even more so than the other psycho religious memes, like Hinduism and Judaism. It refuses to grow, to evolve. Five hundred years ago, the Christian meme was similar. But Christians don't torture each other over dogma anymore like they did during the Spanish Inquisition. They're too rich now to care. They go to church on Sunday and spend the rest of the week spending their wealth. And I think that's the key. If we want to chill out the Islam meme, we need only open up the Islamic economy. UAE and Qatar are good examples. Once muslims have Pepsi and television and PS3's, the Islam meme will start to mellow.

When I was a kid, other kids would try to fight me. I would try to reason with them, but to no avail. I would wonder "why can't we communicate? Are we dumb beasts, or are we humans?" I would let the kid beat me up, just to show him that I could avoid an apelike anger response with reason. I actually took seriously the Jesus meme foisted upon me by my parents. My father, ironically, is still unable to do that, is still beating people up in his old age. But not me.

Human consciousness unfolds. It evolves and progresses. Astrology becomes astronomy, alchemy becomes chemistry, religion becomes philosophy. And on and on. Out with the old, in with the new.

Nihilist Monk

2008-02-03T05:52:00.000-08:00

I like to keep a little edge on. I don't feel comfortable being totally comfortable. Even when I'm relaxed, I'm ready for Armageddon.

As I age, I feel an almost perfect balance of contempt and pity for most people (myself included), most of the time. We are all wretched creatures striving for grace. Clever apes who glimpse an infrequent glimmer of genius, wading through a sea of wasted potential for consciousness and understanding. Burdened with brains big enough to be painfully aware of our own foolishness and impending doom.

I think that's why we have such a deep need for fantasy, in the forms of religion, drugs, media, drama, order, and ritual. Anything to distract us from the crushing pain of a chaotic reality we are just smart enough to know we will never understand. That's why the word disillusioned is used negatively. We need illusion or we lose our fucking minds.

But I tolerate high levels of reality, despite my frequent drug use, because I love a tragedy. I find beauty in ugliness. I find meaning in uselessness. I'm ok with the idea that there is no god, no heaven, no hell, no karma, no life after death, no guarantees, and no possibility of ever really knowing Truth. I like the idea of pure random chaos coalescing into subjective experience.

That won't stop me from trying to understand quantum interference in the microtubules of the neurons that calculate our subjective experience of reality. And it won't stop me from observing religious rituals with an open mind, however skeptically. And isn't my empathy and love meaningful despite any fear of punishment by a high power? Kindness motivated by fear is the ape inside, reminding us how near are the trees from which we descended.

The dictionary definition of nihilism is a hateful, destructive one. Not my style. I practice a more benign sort of nihilism, a simple acceptance of the limitations of my own understanding. I guess if I were really good at it, I'd be a Taoist. But who can be a Taoist in 21st century urban America? Who can be a Taoist at work or in traffic? Benign nihilism is the closest I can get. And it certainly doesn't preclude a sense of humor. It's easier to laugh when you're not looking over your shoulder for god.

Love

2007-11-29T01:03:00.000-08:00

Love is a word that all of us say

we throw it around casually

we all seem to think that we know what it is

yet so often we disagree

We talk all the time about making love

but I'm certain that no one knows

how to make it, or where it comes from

or when it's gone, where it goes

I'm sure it's somehow biological

we can examine it scientifically

we can even do the arithmetic

of exponential empathy

consciousness distinguishes me from you

but with love me and you become we

Some lovers cling to it desperately

afraid it will leave them alone

they squeeze it just a little too hard

then before they know it, it's gone

some emulate love with precision and guile

they whisper sweet saccharin nothings, all the while

position themselves to extract by deceit

what they could have given honestly

some feel no love, worse still, some despise it

they taunt it and fear it and hate it and fight it

they strangle love's melody into silence

stuck in their endless cycles of violence

but there are a few who exude love so true

that it shines from their face tangibly

they live it and breath it and sing it out loud

and they give it away for free

love that is honest and patient and kind

love that is knowing and wise

love that transcends our thoughts and our words

deep as the sea , wide as the sky

Slow Slide

2007-10-16T18:47:00.001-07:00

This analysis of a high-level American financial con job might explain why this guy was so freaked out back in August.

Conscientious Objectors

2007-10-16T18:11:00.000-07:00

You're probably more likely to get out of combat duty if you're a my-religion-forbids-killing pacifist than if you're an I-just-plain-don't-want-to-kill-people pacifist.

Strange how often an irrational reason is afforded more respect than a rational one.

Also strange how few Christians realize that Jesus was a pacifist.

The Fall of the Dollar

2007-10-11T15:28:00.000-07:00

This is why I think we're going to have a war with Iran soon. They're intentionally trying to weaken a dollar already weakened by the emergence of the Euro as an alternate reserve currency. Same thing Saddam was doing in the years before the war. Good website, by the way.

Praetorian Gaurd- the Blackwater Prince

2007-10-02T18:13:00.000-07:00

America began outsourcing military jobs during the tenure of Defense Secretary Dick Cheney, after the end of the cold war. This privatization program has expanded greatly under the current administration. In Iraq, there are almost exactly as many contractors as there are soldiers- about 160,000 of each. Some of these contractors perform civilian work- construction workers, interpretors, oil derrick engineers. But many are in "security". Not security like standing in front of kwik-e-mart with a can of pepper spray, more like cruising in helicopters and armored SUV's brandishing machine guns, protecting convoys and diplomats. Frequently, they are involved in combat. Whether they are accountable to any laws is a matter of some debate in Congress right now.

One firm in particular, Blackwater, is in the spotlight, and for good reason. These were the guys that unwittingly started the battle of Fallujah in 2004. They have been involved in over a hundred shootouts in Iraq, and the latest one is all over the headlines. Apparently a bomb went off near an American diplomatic post, and Blackwater gaurds on the ground, and in the air, responded by opening fire on the crowd that had gathered, killing anywhere from 8 to 20 people, depending who you ask. The gunfire apparently went on for quite some time. At point, or so the story goes, one Blackwater guard pointed his weapon at a second guard and demanded he cease fire.

Blackwater is America's premier mercenary army. Its CEO Eric Prince is an intriguing character. He was the richest American citizen to ever join the ranks of the Navy SEALS. He and his family are bigwig right-wing political donors. His performance at todays hearings is typical, shrugging and smirking and giving non-answers, sometimes leaning back to listen to his lawyer's insructions. Here's a Wired article describing today's hearings. At the end of the article is an ample collection of links giving more background.

Here are some video clips of the hearings.

Reading Between the News

2007-10-01T17:24:00.000-07:00

I read the news everyday. I want to know what's going on in the world. I like to be informed. But I'm also a skeptical person. I don't just accept the news at face value. Being a savvy news consumer is tricky. Here are some tips I've learned.

First off, I read a wide variety of news sources. I read the left-wing press, the right-wing press, the business press, the local press, the foreign press, the moderate press, the lunatic fringe press, the establishment press, the academic press, whatever I can get my hands on. Information comes from many places. Of course, this takes time. Hours daily.

I check sources carefully. This is where online news is superior, because sources can be linked to and investigated. If the source for a story is some shady politically-connected think-tank, you know it's slanted. Thorough and accurate sourcing is the essence of credible journalism. My biggest pet peeve, especially when I'm reading about the war, is seeing 40 or 50 variations of the line "...US sources said...", "American officials said...", "...according to U.S. officials...". This indicates that whoever wrote the story is practically retyping a government press release. I always assume anything the government says is at best a half-truth. Now, when it comes to the war, it's understandable that journalists sit in their hotel rooms in Baghdad and make cell phone calls to US officials in the Green Zone, rather than actually venturing outside into the warzone. Only Robert Fisk has the balls to do that (Robert Fisk is a god).

I read the same story several times throughout the day to see if it changes. This is another interesting feature of online news. If it's coming off a newswire like AP or Reuters, they may change the headline or take out a sentence. What they take out can say more than what they left in. More on this later.

I think critically about what I'm being told and what the potential implications are. Let me show you what I mean, using two of today's stories as examples.

This story is from Reuters. The point of the story, the "scoop", if you will, is a claim. That's the story. The American and Mexican governments are claiming a major success in a "war on drugs". Reuters isn't saying that this is an actual success, or even that is a "war on drugs" (there isn't, it's law enforcement, not war, although military forces of nation-states are involved), only that "official" sources say so. This is a crucial feature of "news". If it's not describing a fact that the reporter witnessed, if instead it's an analysis of the situation, the reporter isn't allowed to analyze, they are only allowed to qoute someone else's analysis. In addition to the "official" quotes, this story also quotes "a source close to the Gulf Cartel" and "local police".

Now, let's pay close attention to the specific data that these "official" sources use to claim "success in the war on drugs". Paragraphs two and three proclaim that prices are rising and purity of the drug is falling. Paragraph four quotes an official saying "this is real progress". Let's think about that. Number one, prices are rising. That tells me the stakes in the drug game are rising. More money in the game means more gang members willing to slang. Number two, purity is falling. That means more people are going to be snorting impure shit, which means deaths from snorting nasty shit will soon rise. So much for progress. My personal opinion is that people will always use drugs, and that laws which prohibit drugs create a "war on drugs" which causes more problems (and government paychecks) than it solves.

Also, I noticed that the reporter (and this is true of every story about the "war on drugs") refers to the Director of the Office of Drug Control Policy as the "drug czar". I don't know why news reporters insist on using 19th century Russian imperial terminology to describe a 21st century American beaurocrat, other than sheer laziness. After all, it takes ten or fifteen seconds to type out the words Director of the Office of National Drug Control Policy.

I was just about to link to a story I read on the Yahoo news portal, which was a Yahoo explanation of a news report from NBC which explained the results of a study done in Chicago regarding Alzheimers. However, it's gone now. And good riddance. It was a dumbed-down version of someone else's news report, which was a dumbed down version of the results of a study done *I assume* by a university. However I don't know for sure who conducted the study, because the NBS story doesn't bother mentioning who conducted the study. Geez. My community college journalism teacher wouldn't let me get away with that shit when I was writing for the school newspaper. When it comes to science reporting, I am almost always disappointed. I find that the conclusions of a particular study are often misunderstood by the journalist.

Well, that's it for now. Remember, read between the news.

Stop calling it Myanmar

2007-10-01T12:10:00.000-07:00

This is essential human question: how can violence be stopped? How can wisdom overcome foolishness? How can bloodshed be stopped without shedding the blood of the aggressors, creating a self-perpetuating cycle of violence?

The crackdown in Burma has begun while the world holds its breath, waiting for news from this totalitarian nation. The government has shut down the internet, and is blocking cellphone videos. Reporters are fleeing, lest they receive the same treatment as Kenji Nagai, shown here on Japanese television being shot dead by a soldier for daring to take pictures.

Burmese state-controlled television stations predictably cast the soldiers as heroes saving the nation from dangerous agitators, and called the American VOA, and British BBC reports "sky-full of liars".

The Bush administration mouthed the typical empty platitudes, while too busy fighting oil wars to do anything about it. Besides, one of the biggest American corporations, Chevron, gives millions of fat American dollars to the dictatorship in exchange for access to offshore oil resources. Did I mention that Chevron is a major contributor to, and lobbyist of, both American political parties? In fact, most of the nations in the UN Security council have some sort of business contracts with the dictatorship that rules Burma, and I haven't heard peep about them being cancelled. It's tragically typical to see these nations expressing horror at the massacres, while continuing to fund them indirectly. This is the essence of deep politics. Politics is the shadow cast on society by business, the intermediary between the populace and their masters.

Reports are leaking out of thousands of monks being beaten, arrested, and slaughtered. But no one can know for sure.

So what can happen here? The military dictatorship has disarmed the populace. They can't fight back. We could invade their nation and kill their leaders, but that would doubtless result in a long bloody civil war. The Buddhist monks have the respect of the people, but they are pacifists. They can march and pray all they want, but that won't stop bullets.

After the horrors of Nazi Germany, the world said "never again!" But it happens again and again and again, all over the world, all the time. Cruel dictators rule dozens of nations.

The buddhist monks see through the military dictatorship. But what about the Burmese citizens who side with the military? Are they simply cowed into silence through fear of execution? What about the soldiers themselves? Do they believe they are doing the right thing? What about the lady on state-run television? Does she believe the bullshit she peddles? What about the generals? Is it power for the sake of power, or they believe they are doing the right thing? What about us? Can we do anything? I'm not signing any bullshit petitions asking the dictators to stop shooting people. But neither am I prepared to pick up a gun and fight them (although I'd be more inclined to do that than to fight an oil war). What about the human race? Do we learn? Do we progress? Are we destined to repeat this drama over and over as we have always done throughout all of recorded history?

I don't know.

Marching Monks with Megaphones

2007-09-24T18:41:00.000-07:00

Whenever you see thousands of Buddhist monks and nuns marching in public protest, shouting through megaphones, you know something big is going down. In Burma (or Myanmar, depending who you ask), the monks are growing militant in their opposition to the brutal military dictatorship that rules their land.They have joined the hundreds of thousands of people who having been staging protests in Rangoon for the last week. The last time this happened, back in 1988, the government responded by declaring martial law and massacring hundreds of people. I'm anxious to see what happens this time. The ruling junta was quiet about it until a few hours ago, when the minister for religious affairs brigadier general Thura Myint Maung warned Burma’s monks not to break Buddhist "rules and regulations."

Local citizen captures video of marching monks.

BBC coverage

Participitory Democracy

2007-09-18T17:11:00.000-07:00

American politics is a carefully stage-managed affair. The clip below is certainly not unique. This thing happens everyday now. Every time a politician speaks in America, someone asks too many questions and armed thugs drag him away. It's not about law, it's about force. It's not about virtue, it's about power. I've seen several versions of this clip, taken from various angles by cameraphone. The young man spoke for less than 30 seconds and said nothing threatening when the female officer asked him to leave. She did nothing when he refused, however, after he used the word blowjob, they grabbed him. When he resisted, asking why they were dragging him away, they tased him. When he got to the lobby, they accused him of attempting to incite a riot, which is what they'll charge him with. It will get thrown out of court, since the video shows that he incited nothing. But the cops don't care about putting him in jail, merely dragging him from the political forum, since it is his questions, not his actions that they are there to enforce. Like I said, this happens everyday now. Go ahead. Search around on youtube for an hour, and you'll find thousands of clips just like this. The politicians, their henchman, the sheep, and the rabble-rousers, an ancient game we play. They let us sit in a room and listen to the man. If we are passive, we remain free. If we demand the truth, our freedom is curtailed. He may be a bit edgy, but this young man is asking questions that I for one would certainly like answers to.

The End Game

2007-08-21T16:52:00.000-07:00

Recently I discovered this article called "Conquering the Drawbacks of Democracy" by Philip Atkinson. It was posted on familysecuritymatters.org, website run by a think tank whose board of advisors is mostly culled from another think tank called the Center for Security Policy. That think tank's advisory board includes former high-level national security agents, including a former CIA director, lots of Defense Department Officials and weapons contractors, and at one point even included Dick Cheney. Donald Rumsfeld was given an award by this organization. Other members include former CEO's of media corporations like Viacom, former military commanders, scientists from Sandia Laboratory (where our nuclear weapons are developed), former congressmen, etc. etc. A very powerful and influential institution.

This article, which I will link to shortly, is not a hoax. I've spent the last few hours researching this. Although the article can no longer be found on the familysecuritymatters.org website (they scrubbed it when they realized the implications on public relations), I promise that I did read this on the original website, before they wisely removed it.

I will not provide any editorial content whatsoever regarding this article. I simply ask you to read it for yourself and realize that this is the kind of thing which some VERY powerful people are discussing openly.

Here it is, courtesy of digby's blog: Conquering the Drawbacks of Democracy

NATO in Afghanistan

2007-07-26T21:56:00.000-07:00

Navy Seals

British Marines

Canadians

Operation Alesia

2007-07-13T20:19:00.000-07:00

The deal is going down in Shasta County. Blackhawk helicopters are assisting officers and soldiers from 17 executive agencies of the American government in the eradication of Marijauna from 28,000 acres of land in the Shasta-Trinity National Forest. This local news article describes the situation in detail with a map, a chart, some pictures, and a video.

(Alesia, in case you're wondering, is the name of a battle that took place 52 B.C. in which the Romans, led by Julius Caesar, put down a rebellion in Gaul, securing the territory for the Roman Empire (which at that time was still pretending to be a republic). A band of 80,000 Gaullic rebels had taken refuge in a small town, which Caesar laid siege to, eventually defeating the rebels and taking their leader, Vercingetorix, captive. Caesar imprisoned Vercingetorix until his Triumph of 46 B.C., when Caesar had Vercingetorix put on display as a war trophy and then ritually strangled.)

Ok, so let's ignore for a moment the weirdness of the name of this operation. What we have here is a Latin American marijauna cartel planting, irrigating, and harvesting millions of plants on thousands of acres of Californian national forest land. Their purpose is not to smoke all that ganja themselves, but rather to sell it on the black market in order to make money. That's their motive- money. The global black market in illegal drugs is somewhere in the neighborhood of a trillion dollars. Why? Because people want drugs. And they're willing to pay for them, illegally, if necessary.

As long as there's a trillion dollars floating around, people will compete for that money, violently, if necessary. Making drugs illegal didn't stop people from using drugs (as the trillion dollars can attest to). All it did was turn the millions of people who use drugs into criminals and create a trillion dollars in profit. This is really stupid. All it would take are the strokes of a few hundred pens in national executive offices around the world to make that trillion dollar black market disappear. Legalize drugs. No more money for thugs to fight over. And guess what? Your prison population is suddenly cut by half or more. Saves the taxpayer money. Also, you could get rid of the DEA and all the related executive offices that try in vain to fight the drug problem. Saves the taxpayers more money. Then police can focus on arresting violent criminals.

But there are all of those vested interests to contend with. The drug cartels don't want it to be legalized- their profits derive from it. The DEA and other anti-drug agencies don't want it legalized- they'd be out of a job.

The Director of the Office of National Drug Control Policy (who the media can't seem to stop calling the "drug czar", which is almost as creepy as the name "Operation Alesia") says that buying drugs on the black market supports terrorism.

I agree.

So I propose that we grow our own. Problem solved. See how easy that was? Maybe I should be the Director of the Office of Drug Control Policy. If I was, I wouldn't let news reporters call me the "drug czar". I would make them call me "the drug dude". I would hire psychopharmacologists and psychoanalysts and neuroscience experts to study drug addiction and use the tax money we'd save on prisons to fund more and better rehab programs. The world could be a tangibly better place in a decade if we simply had the honesty and political will to stop punishing people for their misery and try to address the root causes of drug abuse. Drug abuse is a symptom, not a cause.

Best. Music. Video. Ever.

2007-07-06T14:22:00.000-07:00

Synthetic Life

2007-06-29T12:38:00.000-07:00

The J. Craig Venter Institute in Maryland, a not-for-profit research institute dedicated to the advancement of the science of genomics, has achieved the world's first genome transplant. They took the genome out of one species of bacteria (Mycoplasma capricolum), and transplanted it into a second species of bacteria (Mycoplasma mycoides). Predictably, the former transformed into the latter. But that's not the really interesting part. The really interesting part is that this process is now proof of concept for an experiment that this same team intends to complete in a matter of months: the creation, for the first time in history, of synthetic life.

They plan to create a synthetic genome- one which has never existed in this world before, one that did not evolve and was not created by god- and then bring it to life. Soon. Like this year.

And notably, they have begun this endeavor only after a 15-month study on the ethical considerations involved- conducted by the Center for Strategic & International Studies and the Massachusetts Institue of Technology, funded by a grant from the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation.

Potential uses of such technology include new biological forms of fuel, bacteria that can metabolize toxic waste, or cure diseases. Of course, there is also the insidious lure of more sophisticated bioweapons.

25 years ago, micro-computer technology was heralded as a new paradigm. And it is. Ten years ago, the world wide web was widely touted as a new paradigm. And it is. But the new paradigm of this century, I believe, is biotechnology. Research laboratories all over the world are developing abilities so profound that it takes the best minds in the world to consider the implications. Our scientific prowess as a species is now such that we don't even know where we're going anymore.

My favorite sci-fi author, William Gibson, makes the point that technology is rarely legislated into existence, and that history is largely technologically driven. We are developing an extended prosthetic nervous system, he says. No maps for these territories, he says. Gibson doesn't even write sci-fi anymore. His current books deal with the present, and even that is heady stuff.

Ever since the codification of the scientific method during the late Renaissance, technological progress has increased steadily, accelerating during the industrial revolution, again through the computer age and the space age. Major breakthroughs occur so regularly that they're barely news. Decade by decade, scientists are chipping away at the fabric of reality, and deconstructing it, literally playing god. And it seems as though we stand at the brink of some new shift. Computer scientist Stephen Wolfram, pioneer in chaos theory and cellular automata, claims in his book A New Kind of Science that all physical processes are inherently computational. If so, he muses, then we should be able to program reality much the same way we program a computer.

Chew on that for a while and then tell me why we spend a trillion dollars a year on war when we could be creating an entirely new reality.

Tin Soldiers and Cheney's Comin...

2007-06-25T23:13:00.000-07:00

The dark lord lurks in the bushes.

Yes, he is watching from the side, lurking in the shadows, pulling the strings.

Never take your eyes off the man.

The Washington Post has a four-part series on the dark lord this week. Read it. Study it. Put it in a time capsule to show your grandchildren so they don't think you're exaggerating when you speak in hushed tones of the lawless power-hungry villains who ruled this land illegitimately during the twenty-aughts.

Despite comprehensive rules regarding the records and documents of the executive branch, the Vice President has been classifying everything in his path, thanks to a little-noticed 2003 executive order that gives him the power of the president in such matters. According to the Post, Cheney's office has refused since 2003 to report its handling of national security documents to the National Archives and Records Administration. When the NARA complained, Cheney tried to get their funding cut. When that didn't work, he claimed he is not a part of the executive branch.

Seriously. Cheney's office is actually claiming that he is neither in the executive branch or in the legislative branch (when it suits them to claim that). Actually, any basic college course in government with tell you that as the President's right-hand man, he is part of the executive, AND, as the president of the Senate he is part of the legislature. So he's both. But according to his lawyer, he is an unaccountable super-branch of government that can do whatever the fuck he pleases. Here's a clip of a White House press flack trying to explain it to reporters. Listen to the way her rationale keeps changing and how she keeps saying she doesn't have a legal mind. Yeah, no shit.

Cheney's not fucking around. Neither is his lawyer, David Addington.

The issue of the OVP having the power to classify or declassify documents at will was at the heart of the investigation into whether he participated in outing a covert CIA agent. We'll never know if he did or not, since Cheney's former chief of staff Scooter Libby jumped into the investigation and started stinking it up with lies, derailing the investigation by perjuring himself. Libby was recently sentenced to 30 months in prison for his troubles, but, hey, that's what presidential pardons are for, right? Law is a tool. Besides, most of the GOP assholes who impeached Clinton for perjury involving a blowjob, are now arguing that Libby's perjury involving smearing a CIA agent is no big deal.

Oh, and by the way, do you think it's a coincedence that the most paranoid office in the White House just happened to be harboring a spy? That's right, this guy stole classified documents from the OVP and passed them to a foreign government. So when wingnuts like that smarmy little prick Bill Kristol go on CNN and say that the OVP doesn't need bureacrats snooping around checking whether or not they're properly handling classified information, well, that's a bit of a wank.

The final note I would like to leave here regarding this horrible hateful treacherous draft-dodging motherfucker (our Vice President), is this little quote from former Vice President Dan Quayle regarding a meeting the two had shortly after Cheney was elected:

In his Park Avenue corner suite at Cerberus Global Investments, Dan Quayle recalled the moment he learned how much his old job had changed. Cheney had just taken the oath of office, and Quayle paid a visit to offer advice from one vice president to another.

"I said, 'Dick, you know, you're going to be doing a lot of this international traveling, you're going to be doing all this political fundraising . . . you'll be going to the funerals,' " Quayle said in an interview earlier this year. "I mean, this is what vice presidents do. I said, 'We've all done it.' "

Cheney "got that little smile," Quayle said, and replied, "I have a different understanding with the president."

"He had the understanding with President Bush that he would be -- I'm just going to use the word 'surrogate chief of staff,' " said Quayle, whose membership on the Defense Policy Board gave him regular occasion to see Cheney privately over the following four years.

Saturday News Roundup

2007-06-02T15:35:00.000-07:00

Time for a news cruise. That's where I spend one hour reading the news, and posting the stories that caught my eye.

Lebanese military lays siege to Palestinian refugee camp- For a second day Monday, refugees were caught in crossfire as the Lebanese military surrounding the Nahr el-Bared camp sought to crush a militant group with al-Qaida ties that was holed up inside.

4 Charged in NYC terrorist plot- Federal authorities announced Saturday they had broken up a suspected Muslim terrorist cell planning a "chilling" attack to destroy John F. Kennedy International Airport, kill thousands of people and trigger an economic catastrophe by blowing up a jet fuel artery that runs through populous residential neighborhoods.

U. S. warship bombards Somali coast- A U.S. warship pounded Somalia's remote coastal northeast, targeting Islamic militants hours after a gunbattle with Somali government forces that left eight insurgents dead, officials said Saturday.

North and South, Iraqi Kurds squeezed- Iraq's Kurdish region felt pressure from two sides Saturday, as saboteurs bombed a vital bridge link to Baghdad, and Turkish troops across the border massed for a possible strike.

G-8 protesters clash with German police- Rostock, Germany

Haditha update- 06/02/07 " New York Times " --- - CAMP PENDLETON, Calif., June 1 — The general who was in charge of the Marine division in Iraq when infantrymen in the division killed 24 civilians in Haditha in late 2005, said Friday that all his superiors, including Gen. George W. Casey Jr., the top commander in Iraq, knew of the event within hours.

Iraqi civilizan death toll- Nearly 2,000 in May

American death toll in Iraq- climbing slowly but steadily.

Iraqi insurgents destroy bridge- Major bridge connected Baghdad are with Kirkuk area.

Afghan civilians killed by NATO forces- 15 civilians killed in Helmland province.

Memorial Day

2007-05-28T17:50:00.000-07:00

We're losing an average of 100 soldiers per month in Mesopotamia. Here are some of their faces.

Shit on the President Day

2007-05-24T20:49:00.000-07:00

I hereby procliam May 24th to be Shit on the President Day! An annual American tradition. Once a year, the President gives a brief speech, after which a sparrow flies by and drops a duece on him.

The Next War

2007-05-24T17:23:00.000-07:00

In May 1964, President Johnson expressed reservations about a war in Vietnam, as these transcripts show.

Nonetheless, A few months later, he deliberately distorted an uncertain incident to spark a massive escalation of that awful war.

When those messages came in, it was Daniel Ellsberg's first day as assistant to the Secretary of Defense. He watched those transmissions come in; watched the Johnson Administration use it as a causus belli; watched the war grow worse and worse and the lies more brazen. A few years later, he watched the DOD perform a massive review, and then watched them classify the 7,000 pages of results. He decided to risk life in prison to publish those documents, which clearly showed all of the lies and mistakes that were covered up.

Now, over 40 years since the Gulf of Tonkin incident, after lying us into our current terrible war, the Bush Administration is setting up a causus belli in a different gulf- the Persian Gulf. Intelligence sources have leaked to the press the startling fact that Bush has already signed a secret authorization for CIA to perform nonlethal covert actions to destabilize the government of Iran, including financial manipulations. At this very moment, nine American warships are performing aggressive maneuvers in the Strait of Hormuz, which Iran controls, and through which much of the world's oil supply moves. The Bush Administration is determined to force a confrontation with Iran, while fighting simultaneous wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Here is what Daniel Ellsberg thinks about wrote about this possibility back in December.

Refuse/Resist

2007-05-22T00:24:00.000-07:00

Hitchens on Falwell

2007-05-16T22:53:00.000-07:00

Good Riddance

2007-05-16T11:23:00.000-07:00

As most of you already know, Reverend Jerry Falwell died yesterday. Already I've seen posts by several people rejoicing at his death, and a few posts rebuking them by saying that it is shameful to rejoice in the death of another human being. It isn't considered polite to speak ill of the dead so soon.

Please don't take this joy from me. I couldn't be happier. I spent all night celebrating. Jerry Falwell was a miserable little tick on the ass of the human species. I hope it hurt when he died. I hope he was alone and terrified when it happened. I hope he's burning in a hell of his own making.

Jerry Falwell was a degenerate pig. He was the banner carrier for EVERYTHING that keeps this species from evolving into a saner, kinder species and I refuse to honor the dead when his life was pure dishonor. He was a horrible, hateful example of what depths a human can sink to. He advocated racial segregation, African apartheid, and the death penalty for homosexuals. He was against the release of Nelson Mandela from prison.

Falwell was a hypocrite who accepted large financial donations from cult leader and self-proclaimed messiah Sun Myung Moon. Falwell was a media manipulator who took over the billion-dollar PTL Ministries after Jim Bakker was arrested for fraud and then stabbed Bakker in the back by taking PTL straight into bankruptcy, and managed to make a personal profit on the deal. Falwell was a fevered ego who claimed he had "a divine mandate" to save America from "secular humanists". He was a Christian Dominionist, who believed that Christians OWN America, that it is their own personal theocracy and that the rest of us are second-class citizens.

He exemplified everything that America should flush down the fucking toilet. He represented the hateful among us, the hypocrites, the racists, the ignorant, inbred yokels who proudly count themselves among the 28% of Americans who still support the Bush Administration, who wrap themselves in the flag and flog themselves with the bible.

And if you don't believe me, well... why don't we just let the reverend speak for himself:

Falwell on 9-11: "The abortionists have got to bear some burden for this because God will not be mocked. And when we destroy 40 million little innocent babies, we make God mad. I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People for the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America, I point the finger in their face and say: you helped this happen."

Falwell on AIDS: "AIDS is not just God's punishment for homosexuals; it is God's punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals." "AIDS is the wrath of a just God against homosexuals. To oppose it would be like an Israelite jumping in the Red Sea to save one of Pharoah's chariotters."

Falwell on homosexuals: "Thank God for these gay demonstrators. If I didn't have them, I'd have to invent them. They give me all the publicity I need."

Falwell on racial segregation: "If Chief Justice Warren and his associates had known God’s word and had desired to do the Lord’s will, I am quite confident that the 1954 decision [Brown v. Board of Education] would never have been made…. The facilities should be separate. When God has drawn a line of distinction, we should not attempt to cross that line."

Falwell on MLK: "I do question the sincerity and non-violent intentions of some civil rights leaders such as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Mr. James Farmer, and others, who are known to have left-wing associations."[35]

Falwell on Larry Flynt: "If Larry had been physically able and were not in a wheelchair, there'd have been no lawsuit. I'm a Campbell County, Virginia country boy. I'd just take him outside the barn and whip him and that'd be the end of it."

Falwell on feminists: "I listen to feminists and all these radical gals... These women just need a man in the house. That's all they need. Most of the feminists need a man to tell them what time of day it is and to lead them home. And they blew it and they're mad at all men. Feminists hate men. They're sexist. They hate men; that's their problem."

Falwell on people who question their faith: “Christians, like slaves and soldiers, ask no questions”

Falwell on public schools: "I hope I live to see the day when, as in the early days of our country, we won't have any public schools. The churches will have taken them over again and Christians will be running them. What a happy day that will be!"

Falwell on the ACLU: "The ACLU is to Christians what the American Nazi party is to Jews."

Falwell on televangelist Billy Graham: "Billy Graham is the chief servant of Satan."

Falwell on the bible (this is one of my favorites): "The Bible is the inerrant word of the living God. It is absolutely infallible,without error in all matters pertaining to faith and practice, as well as in areas such as geography, science, history, etc."

Falwell on the separation of church and state: "There is no separation of church and state. Modern US Supreme Courts have raped the Constitution and raped the Christian faith and raped the churches by misinterpreting what the Founders had in mind in the First Amendment to the Constitution." "The idea that religion and politics don't mix was invented by the Devil to keep Christians from running their own country."

And finally: "f you're not a born-again Christian, you're a failure as a human being."

Fuck Falwell. Now, if only we could get rid of Pat Robertson and Benny Hinn...

The Iraqi Occupation/Civil War Grinds On...

2007-05-13T14:21:00.000-07:00

Operation Tomahawk Strike

Raid

Iraqi army

Precision air strike of a mosque

Mosul, 2005, Joint Ops

Boom

March, 2007, Khadhimiya- Distributing goods to locals

Iraqis killing Iraqis- lots of people die horrible deaths in this video

Iraqi police execute an ambulance driver for no apparent reason in broad daylight with news cameras rolling feet away

Montage

Neural Static and Synaptic Chatter

2007-05-11T12:37:00.000-07:00

General agitation today. That happens sometimes, when the routine of corporate sameness forces me to take shelter in the written words of an outlaw gonzo journalist, whose prose kicks me in the ass and fills me with acute consciousness of the immediacy of NOW, and then suddenly, and I can't stand to sit any longer in this drab grey cubicle staring at these liquid crystal pixels. I'm turning cyborg. I can't get the program to work. Fuck it, it's Friday, and Miles and I have already agreed to have a few drinks at lunch, which virtually gaurantees no work getting done, but since I can't get the damn program to work, I suppose it's a moot point.

I have this vague conception in my head about being a creative writer, of forcing all of the random weirdness in my maddeningly literal mind into a series of words, which might accomplish... what? And why should anyone care? Words are their own recourse. In the beginning was the word, and the word was with god, and the word was god, and the word became flesh and dwelt among us. Not that it matters. The endlessly dynamic configurations of absurdity in my mind could surely be twisted, molded, and shaped into some sort of enduring testment to... something. Whatever.

Neural static, synaptic chatter, what does it all mean? Anything? Are my thoughts simply an expression of mechanistic matter? Is existence truly meaningless, as the nihilists seem to believe, if it can be called believing? How should we then live? Who should I be? Is it Ballard's insistence that the 21st century meme is selected psychopathy? Maybe that's it. Choose your dementia, load up on heinous chemicals, and freak out.

If I can only get a handle on this infant century, if I can just wrap my mind around what's going on and where we're all headed... that would be something. But what the fuck is going on? I must venture outside more often, into the cavernous maw of urban California, here in the post-American century, and be with the people. There are millions of them around here. From the 9 inches of window in my cubicle, I can see them walking on sidewalks here in downtown San Jose, 8 floors below me, scurrying like ants to their Friday lunch meetings. Effete, well-scrubbed denizens of the Silicon Valley traversing the concrete jungle in fine silk and smooth leather, while consciously ignoring the sickness of dirty homeless feral human prey wandering, begging, sleeping in their own muck in forgotten doorways under ragged eaves. Indeed, there are flies and blue skies, and the just and the unjust all walk side by side.

But who cares? I can't even muster an original sentence today. I'm cursed. I can't even manage to get laid, although that mostly involves my excessive sense of personal skepticism, coupled with my reluctance to talk to beautiful strangers. Small talk agitates me. Surely there must be SOMETHING more important to discuss than the weather and sitcoms. Like lust, greed, and treachery. Like politics, history, and sociology. Like analingus and righteous indignation.

What the hell was that? Better not to say anything on a day like this, when my mind is spinning but my thoughts go nowhere. Well, the weekend is nearly here. Time to venture an excursion through the southern Silicon Valley and its western appended fault-rift-mountain range, seeking lodging within accepted parameters, where I can live alone in peace and smoke dope unmolested whilst pondering a gestalt image of absolute reality.

Which, after all, is my god-given American right.

Karfluki Fest!

2007-05-08T00:40:00.000-07:00

A festival in balmy Auburn. The 40th anniversary of the summer of love. Beer. Music. Hippies. Big Brother and the Holding Company. Celtic rock, bluegrass, klezmer, bagpipes. A peg-legged pirate on stilts. A metal, fire-breathing dragon. Drunk jugglers. A giant sideshow freak. Fire-breathing and belly dancing. Smiles all around. Good people. Good times.

Photos

(Note: You must have Flash Player 9 to view the videos below. Download it here.)

Videos

Fishtank Ensemble. This clip makes me happy.

Tempest. Hippies kick up their heels for a circle dance.

Drunk jugglers defy death.

George the Giant tapes a hundred firecrackers to his belly and lights 'em, while Wicked Tinkers jams off camera.

Controlled Burn

Loyalty

2007-05-01T12:51:00.000-07:00

Happy Loyalty Day

Today, my fellow Americans, is loyalty day. Originally proclaimed in the early 20th century as an alternative to International Workers Day, and signed into law by President Eisenhower. Our current president reminds us of the importance of loyalty to our nation. He insists that our soldiers exemplify the highest standard of loyalty.

Personally, I've never cared much for loyalty. I see it as a character flaw. It's a codeword for submission. If someone treats you well, do so in return. If not, do not. Loyalty is meaningless. Nazis were very loyal. A dog will be loyal to an owner who beats and starves it.

If you read the various dictionary definitions of loyalty, you start seeing words like "faithful", "allegiance", and "vow". Again, codewords for submission. Faithful means steadfast in allegiance. A vow is something you swear to uphold. It seems to me that these words correspond to a certain sort of mindset, one that I can't grok. In order to swear a vow of allegiance, and uphold that vow steadfastly, you must first believe in the object of your loyalty. But in doing so, you submit your will to a higher will. You trade away a piece of your freedom for an idea, something you believe in, something you have faith in.

I don't believe in anything. I am faithless. I either know or don't know. I either act or don't act. Faith and belief are meaningless to me.

Most people see faithlessness as a character flaw, but it is an ideal to which I ardently aspire. I am always learning more about the world, so my perspective is always changing. Also, I don't believe in nations, borders, or ethnicities. They are meaningless contrivances intended to segment reality into manageable chunks for control freaks to dominate.

But anyway, back to this loyalty day shit. The idea of feeling loyalty to your nation is antithetical to freedom and democracy. Loyalty to freedom is an oxymoron. The government is supposed to work for us, not the other way around. The government should be loyal to me, but I am merely its subject. If the government decides that I am not a first-class citizen, they will send men with guns to take my freedom away. If I could, I would renounce my citizenship, but the sad fact is, it is not possible in this world to exist anywhere unless you are a citizen of somewhere. Once you start swearing allegiances and saluting a flag, your individual freedom is constrained. Your decision-making abilities are co-opted. There is no person, no institution, not even an idea that I am so certain of that I will swear loyalty to it. And although this may sound like nihilism, I have no problem loving, caring, helping, working, and co-operating.

Let's work together, let's listen to each other. Walk with me, talk with me. But don't be loyal to me. I don't require your loyalty. I would refuse it. Be free. Shun loyalty.

Calmstorm

2007-05-01T09:19:00.001-07:00

I begin

by thinking

perhaps there's no point

in one more person

writing one more poem

but we give and recieve simultaneously

words are half-written by the reader anyway

let's pry and loosen our mind

from its well worn neural path

and stretch it wide like bubble gum

until it covers me and you

and the pixels in this cathode tube

(well, maybe yours is liquid crystal

but the equation is the same)

I grok the order of operations

but I'd rather sing my wistful song

to the pale and rising moon

for numbers are stark and ruthless

unnerving absolute abstraction

but words are like synapses

where the axon meets the dendrite

and though chemical messages flow between,

the endings never quite touch

what they calculate is the rythm

of impressions recieved and sorted

when nerves, like long and wispy webs

vibrate the pattern at the edge of self

and transmit to the galactic core

if I reach out my hand

and touch your fingers with mine

if we could capture the physical vibration

of the energy storm created

and graphically represent it

on two different visual mediums

would what I feel

look like what you feel?

Word of the Day- kakistocracy

2007-04-23T23:37:00.000-07:00

kak·is·toc·ra·cy

government by the worst persons; a form of government in which the worst persons are in power.

[Origin: 1820–30; Gk kákisto(s), superl. of kakós bad + -cracy]

Brought to you by dictionary.com