Talented people need to stop dying

I'm calling for a cosmic moratorium on death--no more death this year please!

The politics of misinformation

I read this from The Economist about the health care debate, got real mad, decided to try to deconstruct just what this windbag conservative writer, Robert Guest, was trying to say in his latest Lexington column (my notes in red):

The politics of death

THE first patient Dr Sherwin Nuland ever treated died horribly in front of him. James McCarty, a 52-year-old construction boss, had eaten too much red meat, smoked too many Camels and suffered a heart attack (i.e., a typical spoiled welfare mooch--here is where your tax dollars could go under a "socialistic" health care plan). Dr Nuland, then but a student, was asked to keep an eye on him while he recuperated. Suddenly, McCarty threw his head back, bellowed out a wordless roar and hit his own chest with balled fists. His face turned purple, his eyes bulged out of his head, he took “an immensely long gurgling breath”—and he died. Since this was half a century ago, Dr Nuland did what the textbooks then recommended. He cut open his patient’s chest and tried, unsuccessfully, to massage his heart back to life with his bare hands. It felt like “a wet, jellylike bag of hyperactive worms”. And it did no good. The “dead McCarty… threw back his head once more [and gave] a dreadful rasping whoop that sounded like the hounds of hell were barking.”...

The current debate about health-care reform is in part a debate about death, which is why it evokes such fear. Some of this fear is absurd. Outside a town-hall meeting in Reston, Virginia, last week, a few buffoons likened Barack Obama to Hitler. But most of the protesters are sane. (Compared to what? Obviously Guest is out of touch with the demographics of these protesters). Mr Obama plans to cover millions of uninsured people, says Brittany Tomaino, a young would-be oncologist. He will have to find the money somewhere. That means cuts to Medicare, the government health plan for the elderly, which covers her 95-year-old grandfather, she reckons. “If he needs care, they’re going to give it to someone younger,” she predicts. (Which of course is a false prediction, but let's not get hung up on actual facts here.)

A slim majority of Americans support Obamacare (Since Obama did not author the health care bill being passed around, members of the Senate did, the term "Obamacare" is a misnomer. As such, it could also be seen as synonymous with "Unicorn" since both entities do not exist. Or it could, alternatively, be called "Senatorssleepingwithlobbyistscare. But for the sake of succinctness, I am going to replace all references to "Obamacare" with "Unicorns.") But that majority is declining, and the passion is mostly on the other side. Pro-lifers, for example, worry that reform will mean taxpayer-funded abortions. Half of all Americans believe this will happen. Democrats point out that the bills in question do not mention abortion. Pro-lifers respond that the language is vague enough to allow bureaucrats (who are so much worse than the operatives of the Medical Industrial Complex that always look after their customers' best interests) to add abortion funding after the bill is passed. (Hey, here's a fun game: Let's just keep throwing around unfounded misconceptions about the Senate plan and imply that there's merit to sinister conspiracy theories!) They also fret, like Ms Tomaino, that Mr Obama will deny life-saving treatment to Grandpa to save money. This possibility alarms Grandpa, too. Americans over 65 currently receive, through Medicare, fantastically generous health insurance for which they pay only a small fraction of the cost. Only 23% of them think Unicorns will make them better off, while a growing plurality think it will hurt them.

Health reformers always smash up against two unpalatable truths. We are all going to die. And the demand for interventions that might postpone that day far outstrips the supply. (That's an interesting theory--but what has yet to be measured is the impact of preventative care against current medical practices that are only equipped for expensive, last-minute emergency treatments and how preventative care could drive down the need for "death day interventions"). No politician would be caught dead admitting this, of course: most promise that all will receive whatever is medically necessary. But what does that mean? Should doctors seek to save the largest number of lives, or the largest number of years of life? Even in America, resources are finite. (huh, last time I checked, the health care industry is booming in the midst of the most devastating economic downturn in American history, with executives making salaries that would make Goldman Sachs shysters envious). No one doubts that $1,000 to save the life of a child is money well spent. But what about $1m to prolong a terminally ill patient’s painful life by a week? Also, who should pay? (OMG revelation! I see the Hitler connection! This is just like eugenics all over again! Bureaucrats are gonna decide which categories of patients to save by means of unfair, fascist public policy! Eureka!)...

Blithe and distrustful

Mr Obama’s supporters say that objections to his reforms are largely based on misunderstanding, fuelled by Republican scaremongering. They have a point. But the Democrats’ bigger problem is that most Americans have pretty good health insurance and no idea how much it costs. Taxpayers foot the bill for the old. Most workers with employer-provided health insurance imagine that their employer is paying for it, when in fact it comes out of their wages. Soaring medical inflation depresses Americans’ standard of living and threatens to bust the budget. The system is riddled with waste. Yet most Americans feel little urge to make it more efficient. When asked if insurance firms should be obliged to pay for expensive treatments that have not been proved more effective than a cheaper alternative, 56% say yes.

Few Americans have a clear idea how Unicorns will affect them—unsurprisingly, since even quite basic details are undecided. The uninsured have the most to gain, but they are only 15% of the population. Everyone else has something to lose. (Outright L.I.E.) Many Americans do not trust the government to do anything much, let alone make decisions about life and death. Small wonder Mr Obama finds the headwind against health reform so blustery.

Actually, I think that at this point a more accurate statement would be that MANY Americans do not trust insurance companies that cut their benefits and life-saving treatments to make a profit and allow their loved ones to die without dignity. But what do I know, I'll never write for The Economist.

Facebook is the devil

It's no secret to my friends and acquaintances that I spend a fair share of time on the facebooks. But what they don't know is that, in between posting moronic quizzes like, "Who is your hip hop husband?" or "What is your robot name?" or even as I write status updates about what I've eaten, or how I could live in sweatpants, I am really dying inside. Well, maybe just a little.

Lately I feel it's become more of a sadistic endeavor than a lighthearted means of "socializing." For instance, I have to stop myself from peeking at the profile of any guy that I have been dating or intend to date because, more often than not, there will be some ballsy girl marking her territory, making date plans via a public forum. Or there will be some pictures that I care not to see. Like, for instance, when I was dating someone a year ago. We had been seeing each other for nearly four months (a big deal for Singles Capital of the World standards here in SF), and I was really excited about him. So one day, I have a friend over, and she wants to see his picture. So I look to his page, and, lo and behold, there he is being straddled by this girl "friend" of his, with her tongue down his throat (they were surrounded by a crowd of onlookers; obviously very drunk). To add insult to injury, when I confronted him about it, he was shocked that I didn't just laugh it off. After all, he said, "she's married to my best friend! And I was the preacher who married them!" In his eyes, my bad. Only in San Francisco, right?

But recently, as much as I am glad to see my exes happy and in love, I really don't need to see pictures of them every time I log onto the sight. Specifically, there's the case of ______ who I haven't been with in about five years. Long story short, we had an intense international love affair, and he broke my heart. I'll never forget one of our final fights, right before he dumped me. He was invited to go to St. Tropez with some buddies, and I threw a fit over it. I imagined it to be like Lake Havasu, only with supermodels and billionaires. I wouldn't have put up a fuss except for the fact that I was strictly not invited. This was to be a "lad's trip" (he was British). And I know what young Englishmen do on vacation--I've seen it firsthand--they toss away their cultural oppression and let their proverbial hair down, female commitments/significant others be damned. So I was not cool with that, and I had to, at the very least, try to get him to invite me. In the end, he never took the trip, but he did dump me just a month later.

So recently I have noticed that, every time I look to the upper right hand corner of the home screen to view the "highlights" section, there's ______ in St. Tropez, up at the very top in a revolving set of pictures from somebody's album. But that's not all! He's posing with his girlfriend of a few years, a stunning half-Japanese theater actress with a fondness for wearing blouses with necklines that are mere slits dropping down and falling well below her "girls." These pictures have been popping up for the last two weeks. One day, there they are, slow dancing to a jazz band beneath a festival lighted canopy. And on another day, there they are, sipping martinis on a yacht. Or another, lying poolside, looking deep into each other's eyes.

I feel that I have reached the age where I can see the cosmic pranks going on in my life and give a hearty laugh--this, however, is ridiculous.

But today I was mentioning the "hilarity" of this whole situation to someone, and my friend on the phone actually had an f'book story to top it. Instead of her upper right hand corner being filled with exes and their significant others, it was filled with friend suggestions. And one of the most common suggestions that pops up: a friend that had died more than a year ago. Fortunately, my friend has a healthy attitude towards this, and sees the absurdity for what it is.

So apparently, once you've shuffled off this mortal coil, your facebook account lives on! Desperately seeking new facebook friends! This creeps me out a lot you guys. I mean, I can only imagine how bizarre it must be if one were to look up an old high school pal, request their friendship, and, as time goes by and they have not accepted your request, start to think "what an asshole!" So then, you start to ask around, "Hey, what ever happened to _____?" Eventually someone breaks it to you: "Oh _____, yeah, she died like three years ago!"

It's like a creepy ending to a ghost story or something. Only it's real life, brought to you by facebook. I've said it once, I'll say it again: facebook is the devil.

Homelessness and hobos, then and now

It's a fairly obvious elephant in the room: homelessness among working people is rising at an alarming rate in the US.

The Nation magazine published a list of things of "Ten Things You Need to Know to Live on the Streets" the other day. Which is telling of our times, I suppose. Although you wouldn't know it due to the lack of media coverage.

I actually found an interesting story on Foxnews of all places:

"Campgrounds all over the country are seeing an alarming number of people pulling up with tents, campers and RV's with nowhere else to go. What once was a symbol of American fun in the sun has now become an affordable refuge for those with no place to live."

At any rate, FYI, brought to you by The Nation magazine, here's a fun guide to being homeless!


1 Be prepared to be blamed for your circumstances, no matter how much they may be beyond your control. Think of ways to disabuse the public of common misconceptions. Don't internalize cruelty or condescension. Let go of your pride--but hold on to your dignity.

 2 There is no private space to which you may retreat. You are on display 24/7. Learn to travel light. Store valuables in a safe place, only carrying around what you really need: ID and documents for accessing services, a pen, etc. You can check e-mail and read at the library. You can get a post office box for a fee or use general delivery (free).

 3 Learn the best bathroom options, where you won't be rushed, turned away or harassed. Find restrooms where it's clean enough to put your stuff down, the stalls are big enough to change in and there's hot water so you can wash up. If you're in New York City go to Restrooms in New York.

 4 It's difficult to have much control over when, where and what you eat, so learn soup kitchen schedules and menus. Carry with you nuts, peanut butter or other foods high in protein. Click here to find a list of soup kitchens by state.

 5 Food and clothing are easier to find than a safe place to sleep--the first truth of homelessness is sleep deprivation. Always have a blanket. Whenever possible, sleep in groups with staggered schedules, so you can look out for one another, prioritizing children's needs over those of adults.

 6 Know your rights! Knowing constitutional amendments, legal precedents and human rights provisions can help you, even if they're routinely violated. In New York, for example, a 2003 court-ordered settlement strictly forbids selective enforcement of the law against the homeless. The Malcolm X Grassroots Movement offers another resource, and the ACLU has cards, brochures, fact sheets and films.

 7 Learn police patterns and practices. Be polite and calm to cops, even when they don't give the same respect. Support initiatives demanding independent police accountability. Link with groups from overlapping populations of nonhomeless and homeless people (i.e., black, Latino, LGBT groups) that are fighting police brutality and building nonpolice safety projects, like the Audre Lorde Project's Safe OUTside the System in Brooklyn. Organize your own CopWatch--and photograph, videotape and publicize instances of police abuse. Consider and support models like the Los Angeles Community Action Network or the People's Self Defense Campaign of the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement in Brooklyn.

 8 The First Amendment protects your right to solicit aid (panhandling), especially if your pitch or sign is a statement rather than a request. To succeed, be creative, funny, engaging ("I didn't get a bailout!"). Find good, high-traffic spots where the police won't bother you.

 9 Housing is a human right! Squat. Forge coalitions with nonhomeless but potentially displaced people in this era of mass foreclosures. Support United Workers in Baltimore, the Coalition on Homelessness in San Francisco, the Nashville Homeless Power Project. Learn about campaigns against homelessness in other nations, including the Landless Workers' Movement in Brazil and the Anti-Eviction Campaign in South Africa.

10 Don't go it alone! Always be part of an informal network of trust and mutual aid. Start your own organization, with homeless people themselves shaping the fight for a better life and world. Check out the Picture the Homeless Blog for news, updates and reports on homelessness in NY.

Thinking about the #1 tip: "Be prepared to be blamed for your circumstances..." really made me internalize the stigmas and misconceptions that come with living on the streets. I've been giving more money to panhandlers recently, trying to put things into perspective by realizing that, while many of the homeless in San Francisco do choose to this lifestyle, several do not. And for them, I hope to build more compassion.

On a lighter note, here is a mock PBS documentary about hobo history as told by John Hodgman:

Hangovers

Besides your standard alcohol-induced day-after illness of headache and nausea, there are so many other types that I have been pondering as of late (as I write this with aforementioned, standard hangover). There is a food hangover (which in my case typically follows another medical condition known as "burrito regret"), there is the love hangover (that is, when the unflattering lens of rationality takes hold to reveal irritating idiosyncrasies), there is a movie called "The Hangover" which I haven't heard anything good about so it's probably crappy, and then there's the economic hangover. The economic hangover can take on many forms, and, if one is looking for it, one cannot escape it...it is especially inescapable these days.

The picture at the bottom of this post should provide the perfect symbol of an economic hangover. It is of the failing construction project of the Echelon resort in Las Vegas, an ambitious $4 billion plan to build a casino the size of two football fields, four hotels with 5,300 rooms, and 25 restaurants. Construction was postponed last August for 3 to 4 fiscal quarters (yeah, I'm sure the project will be up and running any day now), and was supposedly set to finish in 2010. The developers fancied it a grand, classy affair, with the hopes of giving the Venetian a run for its money. But before they could get to work, they had a little celebratory destruction, doing it up all-American style, they set some fireworks and decimated the historic Stardust Casino, as it was impeding on their now ill-fated vision.

I shall not shed a tear if the grand plans for the Echelon never come to fruition. Especially not after discovering the following footage of the Stardust's implosion at the hands of the Echelon developers in March of 2007. When it opened in 1958, the Stardust was the largest casino in Las Vegas history, it launched the careers Siegfried and Roy and was a major venue for Andrew Dice Clay and Wayne Newton for years. It's sign became an icon of the strip itself, and of the jazzy '50s Rat Pack-influenced era of Las Vegas itself.

First, witness the excitement of the Stardust's untimely death:




And now, the ultimate hangover, coming to the Las Vegas strip in the form of a completely abandoned construction site:





Hangovers can be a real bitch.

Emilio Gutierrez Soto (R) meets with reporters following his release in January

Heroes of Mexico

I've been trying to read a lot about what's going on with America's neighbors to the south recently. I feel that most Americans, disturbingly, are completely unaware of just how quickly things are spiraling out of control. Tijuana is no longer a haven for frat boys on Spring Break, Swine Flu is not what's killing most citizens at an alarming rate; the chilling onslaught of disappeared women in Juarez is probably the least of the country's worries.

Quick facts:

-- In 2008, more than 6,000 Mexicans died from drug violence, a larger loss than the total number of American troops that were killed in Iraq. Some estimates are higher (by some 1,000 Mexican lives).

--Since 2000, two dozen reporters have been officially reported as murdered, and at least seven have been recorded missing. An unknown number have fled to the U.S.

--More than 150 people from Mexico, including police officers, businessmen and at least one prosecutor, have sought asylum since October 2007, according to U.S. Customs and Border Protection officials in El Paso.

Just this month, Mother Jones magazine published--rather admirably under the circumstances--the grizzly story of Emilio Gutierrez Soto, a former reporter for El Diario in northern Chihuahua state, who's head is wanted by nearly everyone in his home country: the Mexican Government, the Army and the drug cartels (all of whose members are practically interchangeable anyhow). While he has successfully filed for political asylum and now lives in the U.S., his head is no less being hunted.

I say MoJo is admirable here, as scant news outlets have told this very symbolic, very prescient tale of Mexico and its base human rights abuses towards this poor journalist. Gutierrez Soto has kept his head down; his eyes and ears shut when it comes to the gross corruption and barbarism that he has witnessed. He isn't an insatiable muckraker, he knows the stakes, and besides, he has a young son to think about. His only misstep may have been the fact that he never accepted any bribes from anyone, and he refused to publish "corrections" to his stories when certain authorities threatened or bribed him to do so.

Stories that got him in trouble included one in which he reported that the mayor had peed in a gutter after leaving a club (intentionally leaving out the fact that the mayor was exiting the club with known drug pin leaders), and one in which he reported that a drug counselor was fired from the local school district. At that point, Gutierrez Soto was a wanted man. But what really tipped the scales, and what sent hordes of henchman after the journalist and single father, was a story involving the Army. One day, six Mexican soldiers stormed a run down boarding house, looting and stealing food and jewelry from migrant workers. The citizen reporter could not resist the urge to help in any way he could. After he broke the story, there was no turning back. Gutierrez Soto quickly went into hiding, and soon realized that his only option, should he want to live, was to get out of the country and seek asylum in the U.S.

Seven months later, Gutierrez was released from a Texas detention center run by Deco, Inc. And it is not speculative to say that if Obama was not elected into office, it never would have happened since the Bush administration's policies were such that all those from Mexico seeking political asylum be detained immediately; many indefinitely.

Gutierrez Soto's attorney, Carlos Spector, told the Washington Post:

"I think that once the Obama administration came in and laid out their policies and their vision, that we were going back to what America is all about, due process...The Bush administration was characterized by silence, non-accountability and inhumane treatment of detainees."

The story by Mother Jones is highly illuminating, and at times feels very personal. The following quote is haunting, and completely saddened me (the reporter describes Gutierrez Soto):

"He sees Mexico as genetically corrupt. A corrupt Aztec ruling class fused with the trash of Spain, the conquistadors. This thesis helps him face the reality around him.

'In Mexico,' he says, 'we operate in disguise. There is one face and under that is another mask. Nothing is up-front.'"

I feel for this man, and the many brave, honest Mexican citizens that make this journey to the north and succeed. They should be celebrated as heroes--not detained, for they know that staying in their homeland is tantamount to a death sentence; yet they move forward, and tell their stories anyhow.

Endurance and the American Way

“Here in the half-light they lie, these sprawling, unconscious forms, their cots side by side, their clothing hung in listless disarray ... a girl is sprawled, her lips moving in pain, as she moans incoherently, and jerks her hands. Bending over her is a man, her ‘trainer’ apparently, who massages her swollen feet with some ointment. Beside her, another girl is lying, her mouth open to reveal her gold-crowned molars, while flies crawl across her closed eyes and buzz against her chin.” (Alice Elinor, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, August 8, 1928).

The above passage is from a news article on Depression Era dance marathons. Marathons which involved depraved, poverty-striken American couples dancing for an average of 40 days straight with 15 minute breaks every hour. Dancers were motivated by the 12 meals (hardly square) they received each day, as well as a grand prize of--in some cases--roughly a thousand dollars cash. Meanwhile, motivation for the organizers consisted of all the income to be made from wealthy onlookers with nothing better to do. June Havoc, a former child actor and participant in such dances in the 30s as a teenager, explained to Time magazine in 1959:

“Our degradation was entertainment; sadism was sexy; masochism was talent.”

My interest on the subject was aroused as I sat through my third viewing of the 1969 Sydney Pollack film They Shoot Horses, Don't They? starring Jane Fonda. And my interest in watching this film yet again came from being introduced to "Dancing with the Stars"--a far cry from the brutal marathon style; nevertheless, degrading and strange on some level.

What strikes me about dance show entertainment--whether it is performed to garner attention to professional performers, or to degrade average Americans competing for sustenance, is that it is a perversion of dance--pure and simple. When I think of dancing couples I want to think of old-timey romance; innocent encounters with first loves. I don't want to think of C-list celebrities in gaudy ice skating outfits smiling until their faces are sore. And I sure as hell don't want to think of men and women on the brink of collapse, swaying back and forth like circus animals in a Depression Era scheudenfraude.

Here are some fun archival pics of dance marathons I found upon investigation:






'
















This is the death of dance and romance. This is the American Way.

A Great Guide to Wellness*

Today marks the millionth billionth time that Amity has found herself in bed and sick from a cold or flu when she should be a good little busy bee, out there in the real world of productivity, weather-related small talk and overwhelming coffee intake.

But in the fake world, the one where only me and some type of unidentifiable, untreatable soul-sucking leach of an illness contracted hither or thither via subway train, public restroom, unwashed bowl; loved one's mouth...life can be good. Life can be great! Below, please find a list of FAQs for the sickly and doomed. PLEASE NOTE: If you have swine flu...boy have I got a joke for you that I just totally made up:


A: Knock, knock
B: Who's there?
A: Oink oink.
B: Oink oink who?
A: Oink oink I've got that pig flu!
B: ..uh...you mean "swine flu"?
A: Yeah! Same thing! And I'm a gonna kill you!
B: This is really awkward, er, why did you come to my door?
A: Uh...this is just a classic joke format and not meant to be taken literally?
B: Right. I am slamming this door! Good day sir!


Q: Amity, how do I combat the bitter loneliness plaguing my soul?

A: I'm glad you asked. A common side effect of the common cold and/or flu.

Q: So what's the answer?

A: Sleep more! That way there's no loneliness, just dreams.

Q: Isn't that a Steve Bruele quote?

A: Shhhnext question!

Q: How do I find the strength to go on? There are so many things that people want to sell me to get better and I have no idea what to ingest!

A: I strongly advise flushing all Airborne products down the toilet. They are a sham! Film flam! You're like the elephant in that Disney cartoon movie with the "magic feather," trying to fly. Just drop the feather, Dumbo, you will fly if you believe! Also, fruits that make your throat scratch are good. Think oranges and pineapples, I have no idea why but they help.

Q: This general malaise: why?

A: Your body hates you right now, in turn, you are hating life. Copious amounts of Nyquil and Theraflu are commonly accepted as legitimate medical treatment for this condition among the glitterati of the medical community. Drink and be merry!

Q: Speaking of drinking and being merry, can I do that whilst sickly? I want some booze!

A: Ah, quite the controversial topic. Fact: hot toddies are soothing to the throat, as well as soul. Fact: all you need is 4 parts whiskey to 1 part hot water, fresh lemon, and honey. Cheers to your health!

Q: I feel more confused than when I started asking these questions.

A: Let me put it this way: if two hands clapping make noise, then what is the sound of one? I.e., if your bowl is already full, how am I to help you fill it?



* Not written under the influence of Nyquil.

When people stop being polite

"...and start getting real." I believe that was the original catch phrase of the '90s era episodes of the MTV reality show "The Real World."

Well the puppet masters of reality television are beyond impoliteness at this point: they're downright sadistic. It seems Rupert Murdoch's television wasteland, Fox, has decided to begin airing a reality show about people getting laid off. Fox's "Someone's Gotta Go" will feature a real-life company of around 20 employees competing for...well...so it's kinda like "The Apprentice." Only there are no winners. Just the unemployed.

Employees will be given an opportunity to view eachother's salaries and decide who gets "voted off the island" as it were...or who's "the weakest link" et al etc etc. Instead of employers doing the firing, however, employees will freely judge eachother's worth and value before a national television audience and demean one another until one of them is no longer on television.

According to the Huffington Post, Mike Darnell, programming officer, said that the show was about "employee empowerment."

Yeah, and "Rock of Love" is about Bret Michaels finding a soulmate.

"Somebody's Gotta Go" will be brought to you by producers over at Endemol USA. No, it's not a pesticide or a nasal spray or Viagara substitute; Endemol USA is comprised of subsidiaries and joint venture companies spanning 23 countries, which have brought such culturally enlightening programs as "Big Brother," "Fear Factor," and "Deal or No Deal." Just last year, Endemol bought up the company that was responsible for the reality/celebrity shows over at VH1--51 minds.

I mean, if it takes 51 minds to think up that Flava Flav show or "Tool Academy," you've got to question the quality of those minds. I do believe they are overpaid and at least 50 of them should decide on which one should be fired.

A few years ago, just after the company decided to go public, 75% of Endemol was bought by the company Mediaset, which, in case you're not familiar with your megaconglomerates, is owned by the Burlusconi Family.

I've got a great tag line for those Italian bastards I do. How about, "Mediaset: Doing for quality television what Silvio Burlusconi has done for his withering nation."

I'm just hoping that the American public will reach its low culture threshold and somehow create a backlash against this show and the impending culture surrounding it. It seems as though the process of judging eachother and creating entertainment out of it live on television is corrosive, vile and destructive. As constant voyeurs into the nightmare "reality" world of rejection and judgement, we are engaging in a destructive societal mentality. I can't help but believe that this mentality will somehow, perhaps subconsciously, seep into the day-to-day.

I know that, personally, whenever I face rejection in the workplace or elsewhere, all I hear are those damn catch phrases, "the weakest link " or "you've been voted off the island."

That being said, I do love Bret Michaels and his fine taste in classy ladies; you can never hear the words, "will you continue to rock my world" too many times from D-listed rocker in a doo-rag.

Obama, pirates and privacy

Earlier today, President Obama made a bit of a gaffe while discussing the triumphant victory of America v pirates (tune in next week, when Obama prevails over rogue ninjas!) Obama stated:

"And I want to be very clear that we are resolved to halt the rise of privacy in that region."



We all know Obama is no Bush--i.e. he's no gaffe laugh machine. Coincidentally, many progressives and Libertarians are taking issue with the Obama administration's behavior regarding state secrets and civil liberties. Freudian slip perhaps?

I've found this administration's insistence upon extending the unconstitutional, inhumane foreign policies of the Bush administration--injustices such as the denial of Habeas Corpus, persistence in carrying out extraordinary renditions, and insistence of warrantless wiretapping very strange, very strange indeed. Is this president progressive...or regressive?

(A brief Talking Points Memo concensus: here).

I know that it's going to be hard for Americans to see the importance of moving past the savagery of the past eight years--whatwith our economy turning to shit and all. But we need to evolve from the dark days of that cowboy monkey man. Immediately. As painful as it is to face the realities of our torture practices, our leaders need to practice a little moral certitude and call for a stop this involvement in all matters clandestine abroad. These innocent men that our troops are beating; psychologically and sexually humiliating? Their stories won't die even if they themselves do by our own country's hands. Nor should they.

Author Mark Danner gave a brilliant analysis of 14 detainee testimonies filed by the Red Cross:


"...monumental decisions taken after the attacks of September 11, 2001—decisions about rendition, surveillance, interrogation—lie strewn about us still, unclaimed and unburied, like corpses freshly dead.

How should we begin to talk about this? Perhaps with a story. Stories come to us newborn, announcing their intent: Once upon a time... In the beginning... From such signs we learn how to listen to what will come. Consider:

I woke up, naked, strapped to a bed, in a very white room. The room measured approximately 4m x 4m [13 feet by 13 feet]. The room had three solid walls, with the fourth wall consisting of metal bars separating it from a larger room. I am not sure how long I remained in the bed...."

Read the rest here.

It's a horrifying thought: Obama continuing the cycle of torture and abuse that once seemed to horrify him as well--at least when he was selling himself on the stump, that is. I can forgive our president for many things, but this one--I don't think anyone can afford such forgivance.

The day the waves stopped crashing

Tuesday marked the 20th anniversary of the Exxon Valdez oil spill, a cataclysmic event for the communities surrounding Prince William Sound, Alaska. The local fishing industry was devastated; not to mention the wildlife that flocked there--salmon, sea otters, seals, seabirds. Roughly 11 million gallons of crude oil were spilled into the ocean when a massive oil tanker struck a reef. Apparently the ship was on auto pilot as the men who should have been steering it did exactly what anyone who had not been given a six-hour break between 12-hour shifts would have done--they slept. Prosecutors claimed they were drunk.



Riki Ott, a resident of the nearby fishing village of Cordova, wrote a book about the incident and appeared on Democracy Now! the other day. She spoke of fishing communities economically and spiritually bankrupt; a mayor that committed suicide...I found her words chillingly poetic:

We were worried that the oil—the killing would not stop in 1989, the scientists. It was a huge devastation. I couldn’t even go out on the beaches initially. I couldn’t take the emotional hit. People came back, the fishermen, and they said they had sat down on what they presumed was rock to cry, and it turned out to be like an oiled sea otter or something that was dying. There were just bodies everywhere. The oil in some of the bays was over three feet thick. You couldn’t even hear the sound of the waves crashing on the shoreline; everything was muted. Some of the oil, with the storm that came through—there was a huge storm that came through, and it just smeared oil up to forty feet high on some of our coastline—was in the trees. I mean, it just took animals out, and it was very, very quiet.

With one fell swoop of the text

I have become my mother. Well, almost. She's always had this strange attachment to the characters in All My Children; and, recently, a friend who had to miss the latest episode of Big Love texted to ask about it. Here was my response:

"Nicky's affair has been made public and now she's in the dog house. Barb and Margine are real mad. Staying with her brother Albie, so you know she' s up to no good."

I feel a sudden rush of unease now. I am discussing fictional characters the way my mother talks about soap stars, or the way my father references the characters in Seinfeld.

Blast from the Past

I spent over five years as a student and resident in Santa Cruz, California--a little dabbling in the extremely liberal arts here; a little reporting for the local newspaper there. I felt I knew that city well.

Nevertheless, it was so shocking to see the following montage of "public comment" before the city council and board of supervisors recently.

Welcome to the patients-running-the-asylum bubble town that is Santa Cruz. Around the time I moved there, the mayor was giving away medical marijuana on the steps of city hall, a former Black Panther lectured at the university, and there was a spot in the middle of the woods where the center of gravity went awry ("The Mystery Spot"--they still give tours). The Daily Show had reported there twice, once referring to it as a town with "more dreadlocked white men per capita" than any other place in the nation.

And as for the city's politics, Santa Cruz had out-progressived Berkeley by several initiatives, making them look more akin to Orange County than your typical liberal college town. Among them: impeaching former president Bush, and immediate troop withdrawal from Iraq. Welcome to the circus:

The Science of Hell

Supposedly a student at the University of Washington came up with a most profound explanation as to whether Hell is endothermic or exothermic. In response to a bonus question on his Chemistry mid-term, the student wrote:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave.

Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different Religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell.

With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, thenthe temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you, and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over.

The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct...leaving only Heaven thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."

Wow, reading about the "afterlife" in scientific terms really magnifies the absurdity of the concept.

Illustration of a handmaid from Atwood's book

Religious leaders+a zealot president=human rights violation

That's my equation for what is going on with Eluana Englaro, the 38 year-old Italian woman who has been in a coma for 17 years and could stay that way forever if Silvio Berlusconi and the Vatican have anything to say about it.

This is like Italy's Terry Shiavo. Only, fortunately for this woman and her family who want nothing more than for her to die with dignity--to die the way she would have chosen to--the doctors are moving forward with her food rationing and letting her go, as the Italian supreme court had ruled in favor of.

What angers me most are these absurd comments made by Berlusconi:

"This is murder. I would be failing to rescue her. I'm not a Pontius Pilate."

--yeah, and she's not a Jesus, so get over it!

He also stated that Englaro was "in the condition to have babies."

--unbelievable. This is like Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale, reducing a woman to indentured servitude to the State, simply because men in power like to control women's bodies en masse. The right to control her own body (or, in Englaro's case, how her family would control it) is not considered a civil right, after all, she's still fertile!

Again, as with my previous abortion rant, I must ask--what would happen if Englaro was a man? When one notices the double standard, we are left with an issue of women's rights. This "right to life" argument is just smoke and mirrors, a way to avoid the real topic at hand.

Free Eluana Englaro!

You know there's something wrong in the world

When an appeal for humanity is labeled political by the BBC (emphasis mine):

London - Britain's public service broadcaster, the BBC, is facing unprecedented criticism for refusing to broadcast an emergency fundraising appeal for people living in the Gaza Strip.

Long used to winning plaudits for the quality of its journalism, staff at the 97-year-old institution have become accustomed to allegations of left- or right-wing bias.

However, even many BBC journalists are furious at a decision by senior management not to air the appeal this week by an umbrella grouping of 13 charity organizations including the British Red Cross and Save the Children.

The appeal to help Palestinians facing homelessness and hunger following the Israeli onslaught in the Gaza Strip was broadcast Monday night by three rival broadcasters – Channel 4, ITV, and Five – although not by Sky News, which is owned by media mogul Rupert Murdoch's News Corporation.

Mark Thompson, BBC's director general, said he could not permit the BBC to endanger its impartiality by appearing to endorse an appeal for the victims on one side of a complicated conflict.

"For us to broadcast such a thing would in my view be out of keeping with our strict duty to be impartial," he told one of the BBC's radio channels.

The two-minute appeal, which went out on Monday night, began with images of child victims from Gaza.

A narrator said: "The children of Gaza are suffering. Many are struggling to survive, homeless, and in need of food and water. ... Today, this is not about the rights and wrongs of the conflict. These people simply need your help."

Latest Palestinian death toll: around 1,400. Israeli death toll: 13.

I live in California. Hallelujah.

CNN(yesterday):

In Minneapolis, Minnesota, it felt like 40 below because of the wind chill, CNN meteorologist Rob Marciano said. It was 48 below in Fargo, North Dakota, where unprotected fingers could suffer frostbite in 60 seconds.

This morning, my mom checks in from northern Indiana, takes a picture of her street sign:



Isn't it ironic, donchaknow?

Part three of a youtube series on Minnesota weather hell:

Way to go, San Francisco Examiner!

So the daily newspaper, a city rag once serving my fair city with shining brilliance from such luminaries as Hunter S. Thompson, Mark Twain and Jack London, has actually come out with it's endorsement of presidential candidate John McCain.

Why on earth would a paper that reflects and reports upon one of the most progressive major cities in the known universe do such a thing? Two words: Phillip Anschutz. The Examiner's owner, who ranks as Forbes' 31st richest person in the U.S., is also a known crusader of Christian causes. Instead of reflecting the city's best interest, the paper has chosen to reflect the values of its non-resident owner. This act definitively represents everything that is wrong and unethical about media ownership deregulation in this country. Here's a link to the endorsement, which I'm afraid is too disgustingly asinine to copy into my blog.

But I will, however, copy some of my favorite comments:

Ana: "That's a pretty ballsy stance in the age of decreasing readership. Was this suicide? Indeed. I'm also deeply embarassed for your newspaper. What a shame."

cmhockeygirl: "so much for the examiner being the "local" paper - no pulse on the city..while they are free to endorse anyone they wish the "in our face" endorsement is a bit much..they obviously could care less about their readers but about this city as well"

City Native: "Guess who owns the newspaper? A conservative Christian named Philip Anschutz, who lives out of state. My question is why would the newspaper want to alienate itself? People, if this offends you then do not pick up another copy. They will get the picture when their news stands go untouched. Examiner, why don’t you go be a painfully simple tabloid somewhere else….like Alaska. The Anchorage Examiner…."

m@: "April Fools!! Wait, what? This is for real? You're supposed to represent San Francisco! WOW... did you see McCain on the View? How about Palin with Katie Couric? How can neither of those two things worry you?!"

Chloe N.: "this is the WORST endorsement I've ever read. Is the Examiner trying to be controversial so that their circulation will go up to, like, five for once? McCain and Palin hate The Examiner, and all things San Francisco related. What a disgusting pathetic gossip-rag this once reliable publication has turned into. I feel sick."

rxday: "This endorsement represent view of it's 'conservative christian' owner. His other papers are now also endorsing the republican ticket. So why doesn't he just write an opinion and have it published under his name. That way everyone will know who's opinion they are reading."

Great moments in Myspace Profiles

The other day I discovered that Levi Johnston's (Mr. Bristol Palin's) Myspace profile had been leaked to the press before recently going private. Why anyone, especially someone in the public spotlight, would keep a Myspace profile public is beyond me. Since the boy's profile is no longer available, we can only imagine the kinds of wild party pics a young Mr. Bristol must have posted in the Meth Capital of Alaska. --did you know that 42 meth labs have been discovered in Wasilla since Sarah Palin became governor? Anyhoo. Here's a prime excerpt from what is sure to become a pillar of Christian values if sent to the White House with his newfound family:

"I'm a f**kin' redneck who likes to snowboard and ride dirt bikes. But I live to play hockey. I like to go camping and hang out with the boys, do some fishing, shoot some sh*t and just f**kin' chillin' I guess. Ya f*ck with me I'll kick ass."
Status: "In a relationship."
Children: "I don't want kids."

Funny. Reminds me of another somewhat-public figure, Brittanie Mountz (sic), the notorious 19 year-old restaurant hostess and registered Republican that stole San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom's heart a few years back, right before he slept with his campaign director's wife. The local press had a field day with the musical "tastes" listed on her Myspace profile (also note, sic of "Sigar Ros" and "Goo Goo Dalls"):

Music: David Gray, Coldplay (of course), Travis, Beck, Feeder, Citizen Cope, Amos Lee, Thriving Ivory (the drummer is mighty fine), The Verve, Oasis, DMB, Jack, Alanis (bitch tunes), John Fruciante, U2, Annie Lennex, Damien Rice, Green Day, Eric Clapton, Sigar Ros, Macy Gray, Moby, Beethoven, Guster, Tom Petty, Pinback, Iron and Wine, Elliot Smith, Red Hot CP, Goo Goo Dalls, Nirvana, Lonestar, Garth Brooks, Led Zepllin, Jimmy Eat World, Norah Jones, Queen, Sublime, Bob....mmmm the list won't end.....
Groups: I GET CRUNKED, DO AWESOME THINGS AND FORGET ABOUT THEM BEFORE MORNING GROUP

Nice-a! We got us some real classy youngsters sleeping with political figures in this here country.

Like a really bad Disney movie

Matt Damon: "It's like a really bad Disney movie. The hockey mom, you know, 'oh, I'm just a hockey mom'... and she's facing down President Putin... It's totally absurd... it's a really terrifying possibility... I need to know if she really think that dinosaurs were here 4,000 years ago. I want to know that, I really do. Because she's gonna have the nuclear codes."



Totally, Will Hunting, totally.

Questioning and condemning Palin is not misogynist! I'm so sick of the McCain camp's gender card power play. It's completely rational, intelligent and above all else patriotic not to want this mindless puppet as a VP and possible Pres. Thank you for providing the voice of reason, Matt Damon. Sometimes I wish the Obama campaign would just put it bluntly like Good Will and dish out some common sense to the public. Even if it comes across as a cheap shot.