Poetry Corner (apologies, I am no poet)


1.
i type my name in the blank space
agree to the terms of services, click, send, and no going back!
my spine is tight
i feel like a roly poly
in a ball of discomfort
about to bounce back and crawl again
to better spaces than behind this white screen
are you numb from the voyeurism yet?
the screen asks in its best stephen hawking impression
colon, hyphen, lowercase "l"

2.
is this house too dirty?
or too sterile
my senses aren't what they used to be
but up there in the woods
on a hilltop among pine, eucalyptus and others
clean dirt and crisp morning air you can taste!
my insides are one with the outsides
and i don't feel much like dusting
just waving my flashlight around in the dark
truths revealing themselves in the spotlight

3.
i watched a creature go into cardiac arrest
found in a drop of tap water
sprawled under a microscope
in a biology class i was a youth
i remember how it scrambled
panicked--
on a circular, circus arena of minute proportions
my heart sank at our shared spectacle
i felt foolish and naive
heart sinking
life and death were the same in that moment
and so it forever will be, i thought

No We Can't

The John McCain answer to the "Yes We Can" video.

The Best of Sarah Palin Criticisms: A Cathartic Post

I just need to get all my Sarah Palin anger out and move on to the more positive things in life. I need to think of all the intelligent women out there and let go--surely these debates and the onslaught of disgust on part of the media and the general public will attribute to this pig's ultimate downfall. (Yes I unapologetically will refer to this swine as none other than what she is). I decided to unleash my Sarah Palin bests. So here's my list, here goes:

1. Best Palin quote that summarizes my feelings on Mrs. Palin thus far comes from Matt Taibbi of Rolling Stone:

The truly disgusting thing about Sarah Palin isn’t that she’s totally unqualified, or a religious zealot, or married to a secessionist, or unable to educate her own daughter about sex, or a fake conservative who raised taxes and porked up earmark millions every chance she got. No, the most disgusting thing about her is what she says about us: That you can ram us in the ass for eight solid years, and we’ll not only thank you for your trouble, we’ll sign you up for eight more years, if only you promise to stroke us in the right spot for few hours around election time.

2. Best quote from a Katie Couric interview:

Katie Couric: And when it comes to establishing your worldview, I was curious: what newspapers and magazines did you regularly read before you were tapped for this to stay informed and to understand the world?

Sarah Palin: I've read most of them, again with a great appreciation for the press, for the media.

KC: But, like, what ones specifically? I'm curious.

SP: All of 'em, any of 'em that have been in front of me over all these years.

KC: Can you name a few?

SP: I have a vast variety of sources where we get our news too. Alaska isn't a foreign country, where, it's kind of suggested and it seems like, 'Wow, how could you keep in touch with what the rest of Washington, D.C. may be thinking and doing when you live up there in Alaska?' Believe me, Alaska is like a microcosm of America.

3. Best Sarah Palin video:



4. Best Palin rumors (that I made up myself and have been trying to spread all over the internets):

Sarah Palin brushes her teeth with whale sperm.
Sarah Palin had "The Tao of Pooh" banned because she does not like potty humor.
Sarah Palin found out about the VP position through McCain's Craigslist ad.
Sarah Palin was raised by seals in a cave. When she came of age, she clubbed her mother to death and feasted upon her flesh.
Sarah Palin not only charges rape victims for forensic examinations, she charges forensic examiners a special fee for investigating rape cases, then she rapes the forensic examiners.
Sarah Palin doesn't like the Crypts, because they take all the Bloods out (Sarah Palin is like Dracula, get it? A blood drinker!)
Sarah Palin likes to read the cliff notes of the Left Behind series on the toilet.
Sarah Palin once shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.
Sarah Palin won "Miss Congealiality" at an Alaskan beauty pageant for her frozen jello pops.
Sarah Palin had a lung transplant from a moose because the best surgeons in Alaska are veternarians.
Sarah Palin gave me syphilis.
Sarah Palin showed up to the try-outs for the full length feature film, Flashdance, in a trench coat and nothing else and all the casting agents projectile vomited at the sight of her.
Sarah Palin has a tattoo of Charlton Heston on her ass.
Sarah Palin likes to shoot-up batmizfahs at random.

R.I.P.

Feeling Check: Politically Burnt Out

You guys, I'm really burnt out on the politics these days. I find myself in a strange space of fluctuating stagnation, unable to prioritize the things that matter most in life. For instance, if McCain wins, I have promised myself I will leave the country. I have a plan, I know people, they will prove resourceful, I will be in Spain if you must know but I will leave my email for you to keep in touch. --but I have to stand back and ask myself the question: should lofty ideologies and political intangibles really shape my personal life in such a way that career and family pursuits should be affected? How will my decisions affect those nearest and dearest? If they go down along with the rest of the country, is it not my patriotic duty to go down with them? I do realize that under an Obama administration things could go tits up all the same. But that's besides the point. I refuse to live in a country run by an oil-thirsty madman. Again.

I've been having a difficult time expressing my frustration with the state of the State at the moment. Sometimes I wish we could have a collective "TO" on the election sports for just a second, just to sit back and contemplate everything that's happened to the country, why it happened and how we got here. A "war" nobody wants. An economic collapse to rival the Great Depression. A monkey tyrant imposture for president. A culture war that nobody wanted. An absurd spectacle masquerading as democracy.

I believe it to be true what a lot of lefty commentators are saying these days, that we live in a "post-rational" society.

If we do not, can a conservative economic expert please explain to me why Republicans are resorting to Socialism--and big government more generally--while denouncing such things? Can an Obama adviser explain to me why Democrats can't question and decry a corrupt politician for fear of being sexist as they choose to nominate the first African American for president? Can CNN, the New York Times and their leeching media adherents explain why we pretend, year after year, that there isn't this sick cycle of young men and women losing their innocence more and more each day, who will eventually need to incorporate themselves into society and function after the years of death machine brainwashing wears off? Can anyone, PLEASE, anyone tell me how McCain got away with passing himself off as a man of the militants, celebrated POW action man, who, as a congressman, repeatedly denies benefits to veterans returning from duty? Or how a monstrous fraud like Palin can stand up at a podium, look a television monitor dead-on, and tell the public that they will have a friend in the White House that will support parents of special needs children even as McCain has repeatedly denied further spending on education for special needs children?

That John McCain/Sarah Palin ticket is such a massive hoax on the American electorate, perhaps the biggest hoax since the founding of the nation. I can think of no other presidential ticket comprised of two individuals so blatantly hypocritical and eager to swindle a public that is about to be on its knees financially. If there was a grand taste test, like Pepsi and Coke, where both tickets were left without identity and packaging, shrouded merely in policies and legislation, those Republican bastards would be more laughable than Ross Perot and Alan Keyes combined. In fact, if you took that same taste test, with a Perot/Keyes ticket v. a McCain/Palin one, I'll bet the former would get elected. That is how absurd this system is.

Much to my chagrin, I find myself lashing out by trolling conservative bloggers' sites. I should know better, it's not that there aren't intelligent, passionate people who actually believe John McCain would make a good president. They just look at facts in a really warped way. Like when I question what kind of woman this female conservative blogger was for supporting a man who does not support equal rights and equal pay for women. She responded by quoting him:

"I am all in favor of pay equity for women, but this kind of legislation, as is typical of what's being proposed by my friends on the other side of the aisle, opens us up to lawsuits for all kinds of problems," McCain told reporters yesterday. "This is government playing a much, much greater role in the business of a private enterprise system."

I can't correct her on her misconception that McCain is pro-woman on this matter because what was made obvious by this kind of response is that she hasn't fine-tuned her bullshitometer. Plain and simple. Who can argue with someone who only sees what they want to see? Upon reflecting from my own cheap shots, I realized that I do a lot of that myself--seeing only what I want to see. It doesn't help my political viewpoints, living in this liberal bubble and left unable to productively engage, face-to-face, with those from conservative backgrounds. Not that I am saying I would ever agree with one of those bastards on anything that means anything: the war, the economy, social spending, taxes, et al.

I just want a prosperous future for myself and my family. I don't think that's too much to ask. I don't think conservatives don't want that, I just think they've clung to vapid political identities that don't mean anything... and are evil right down to their cold black hearts, which pump not blood like yours and mine, but rather a thick, vomitous oil that oozes through their rotten veins and clots in their pea-sized brains which becomes the cause of their Nazi-esque patterns of violent behavior. (Thank you South Park.)

Anyways I'm retreating into the wilderness for the remainder of the week. Goin' campin. Being away from the media should do me some good.

Until the debates of course. I'll grab my popcorn and a few beers and with supreme glee watch the schadenfreude that should be McCain's public shaming.

P.S. GOOD magazine blows. Just watch their McCain video, with the cutesy Stevie Wonder music in the background. If they're so GOOD what the f**k man?

Les MisBarack

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

One of my favorite musicals + the Obama campaign= sheer brilliance. The mind reels at which musical the Republican ticket would use to represent thier campaign: "Sweeney Todd"? McCain obviously has the look and lack of scruples of a demon barber. Or how about the obvious choice, "Annie, Get Your Gun"? Shit Sarah, shit! We're in a plane and there are wolves below! Better get yer gun, lady!

David Foster Wallace's "American Idea"

I never knew much about David Foster Wallace, and ignorantly wrote off his work as pretentious as only the most pretentious people I knew had read his masterpiece, Infinite Jest. So I guess I stupidly considered him pretentious by association--which that impressive tome itself may in fact be--however, after his death on Sunday (a suicide by hanging), I found some of his essays online and do believe that, slowly, I am becoming enamored. Perhaps his novels won't move me, but his essays and rhetorical ideas are enough to give me great pause.

Here's an essay he wrote for the Atlantic, which can be found on their site along with several other great minds on the topic of "The American Idea." Other writers include Senator Biden, Joyce Carol Oates, Cornel West and John Updike.

Just Asking

Are some things still worth dying for? Is the American idea* one such thing? Are you up for a thought experiment? What if we chose to regard the 2,973 innocents killed in the atrocities of 9/11 not as victims but as democratic martyrs, “sacrifices on the altar of freedom”?* In other words, what if we decided that a certain baseline vulnerability to terrorism is part of the price of the American idea? And, thus, that ours is a generation of Americans called to make great sacrifices in order to preserve our democratic way of life—sacrifices not just of our soldiers and money but of our personal safety and comfort?

In still other words, what if we chose to accept the fact that every few years, despite all reasonable precautions, some hundreds or thousands of us may die in the sort of ghastly terrorist attack that a democratic republic cannot 100-percent protect itself from without subverting the very principles that make it worth protecting?

Is this thought experiment monstrous? Would it be monstrous to refer to the 40,000-plus domestic highway deaths we accept each year because the mobility and autonomy of the car are evidently worth that high price? Is monstrousness why no serious public figure now will speak of the delusory trade-off of liberty for safety that Ben Franklin warned about more than 200 years ago? What exactly has changed between Franklin’s time and ours? Why now can we not have a serious national conversation about sacrifice, the inevitability of sacrifice—either of (a) some portion of safety or (b) some portion of the rights and protections that make the American idea so incalculably precious?

In the absence of such a conversation, can we trust our elected leaders to value and protect the American idea as they act to secure the homeland? What are the effects on the American idea of Guantánamo, Abu Ghraib, Patriot Acts I and II, warrantless surveillance, Executive Order 13233, corporate contractors performing military functions, the Military Commissions Act, NSPD 51, etc., etc.? Assume for a moment that some of these measures really have helped make our persons and property safer—are they worth it? Where and when was the public debate on whether they’re worth it? Was there no such debate because we’re not capable of having or demanding one? Why not? Have we actually become so selfish and scared that we don’t even want to consider whether some things trump safety? What kind of future does that augur?

FOOTNOTES:
1. Given the strict Gramm-Rudmanewque space limit here, let's just please all agree that we generally know what this term connotes—an open society, consent of the governed, enumerated powers, Federalist 10, pluralism, due process, transparency ... the whole democratic roil.

2. (This phrase is Lincoln's, more or less)

I love that he explores the concept of sacrifice in the context of patriotism. If we had leaders that were actual, respectable statesmen, we'd be having myriad public talks of shared sacrifice and acting upon them for the sake of our collective future. As opposed to having evil madmen sacrificing our security and very livelihoods in private.

All of his Harper's articles can be found here. And an article he wrote about John McCain for Rolling Stone in 2000 can be read here.

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.

The beginning of the end of clean elections?

The New York Times yesterday reported that students at Virginia Tech (after a surge in registered Dem voters) have been threatened by the state Board of Elections that, should they decide to register to vote using their college addresses, they may not qualify as dependents on their parents' tax return. In turn, student loans may be in jeopardy. But this, according to the IRS, is a false claim.

This is frightening stuff, people. Every time I talk to someone who seems cynical about an Obama victory, I typically respond by saying that they underestimate the youth vote this time around, as well as an upsurge in Hispanic first-time voters. While I do not believe my statements are overly optimistic, I do know that the impact of these votes will mean nothing without a solid, nationally-uniform voting system unencumbered by scare tactics and voter misinformation. It's just so fundamental; yet it's a topic that no one seems all too worried about. Let this story be a warning of the possible fraud to come.

From the BBC:

I think Virginia is the Ohio and Florida of 2008. With a huge demographic boom of government and knowledge workers in the Northern suburbs, this state has been trending Democrat. War hero McCain is also very popular here - look for this one to be fiercely fought.

Have we completely forgotten about the epidemic of blatant voter fraud that has plagued this country for the past two presidential elections?

A little poetry for you establishment-loathing lovelies

Today I made a most excellent discovery in a tiny, cavernous Antiquarian book shop in Oakland. I found a $6 copy of The Nixon Poems. Written during the treacherous reign of Tricky Dick by poet and banned author (The Inner City Mother Goose) Eve Merriam, it is full of Python-esque collages and poems inspired by TD himself. Here's the poem that made apparent the need to purchase this book immediately:

"Found in an establishment fortune cookie"

If you
puke upon me
I shall
cover
it
with velvet and sequins
and sell
it
back
to you.

RNC Roundup

Many of my friends had a hard time sitting through the '08 Republican National Convention for the past few days minus the irritating spells of nausea and maddening fits of anger, so I thought I'd offer it up in tiny, somewhat digestible pieces with the hope of inducing neither.

Here's Jon Stewart's badass commentary. I especially like his air guitar version of "Free Bird" after Rudy mentions 9/11. Also, I was particularly satisfied with Stewart's response to Sarah Palin when she denigrates community service, saying that "a small town mayor is kind of like a community organizer...with actual responsibilities." Stewart's mocking retort: "So to everyone out there trying to make a difference in their communities...fuck you! You know what you are? You're a thousand points of bullshit!" (Referencing, of course, GH Bush's speech on community service and the power of the individual in which he coined the phrase "a thousand points of light.")





Again, I don't mean to upset anyone, but I think everyone should watch the 9/11 fearmongering clip below, and Keith Olbermann's courageously sensitive response. Bless this man, he comes from a bygone era of venerable and dutiful broadcasters.





The GOP has really outdone themselves this year: laughing at the idea of community activism, passing sarcastic smears off as political rhetoric, exploiting 9/11 once again, ignoring the base level of depravity and strife the middle and lower classes are facing during a staggering economic crisis, boasting old war stories as if they are the only ones to know firsthand the tragedies of war...all of it disgusting beyond words.

This is what I would have seen if millions of people weren't blocking my view

Radiohead Live

This post is two weeks overdue. I saw Radiohead on Friday the 22nd in the Golden Gate Park at approximately eight o'clock in the evening. They were the first nocturnal musical act ever to play in the Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. Apparently no band has been worthy enough to perform at night since the establishment of this great urban park space in the late 19th century.

I saw Beck give a performance beforehand. I need not waste further words on this matter (sorry but mediocre performance + ZZ Top/ Blues Brothers look= loser! Seriously. And he played that song quite mediocrely).

When I finally made it to Radiohead's stage after a 15-minute journey traversing the wretchedly cramped fields of orgiastic music fiends, reaching a spot about .025 miles away, I stood in a sea of crazed uberfans far larger than the state of Alaska. Larger by millions of people, some would guesstimate. I would have loved to see Palin govern us: ha! (Sidenote: burn! Did you catch that burn? I totally burned that lady--what a scorcher).

I wrote an epic poem for Thom Yorke in my head as I listened to my favorite song in the world, "Paranoid Android." I recited it to my friend Ami later (she's just like me, but withou the "ty"):

Thom Yorke
You make every pore of my body morph
into tiny vaginas
to be penetrated by the great cosmic cock
of divine sonic rapture
simultaneously
If you were an astronaut
you'd be out of this world

One day I shall endeavor to write a poem a bit on the eloquent side, like this one from Joseph Moncure March's "The Wild Party":

Some love is fire: some love is rust:
But the fiercest, cleanest love is lust.
And their lust was tremendous. It had the feel
Of hammers clanging; and stone; and steel:
And torches of the savage, roaring kind
That rip through iron, and strike men blind:
Of long trains crashing through caverns under
Grey trembling streets, like angry thunder:
Of engines throbbing; and hoarse steam spouting;
And feet tramping; and great crowds shouting.
A lust so savage, they could have wrenched.
The flesh from bone, and not have blenched.

Sigh. Next time.

Sarah Palin, you rock my world

Bless you, you sweet crustacean-huntin, beauty pageant/votin down equal pay and reproduction rights-lovin lady, I do believe you just cost McCain any chance at the presidency.

You're like a grown up wind-up doll spewing catch phrases about "shattering the glass ceiling," you've met McCain once or twice and have absolutely no national or foreign political experience. You come from Alaska. No offense to Alaska, just the politicians who live and lie there.


The median age to become a member of the AARP is 60, McCain is on the death end of the spectrum. Let's just say that, since you would hypothetically be "a heartbeat away from the presidency," Americans will be less inclined to envision you leading our great nation than Joe Biden. Hahahahahaha! I love you!

Hey Candypants, let's climb the ladder of romance.



Some sweetass lines in this here song (thank you, Nicoleo).

Misery index high, funny index low

I was watching this Bill Moyers fellow today, about this damned country's diminishing middle class...let me start over...this country isn't damned. It's not damned because there are no more electable Bushes:

Working Americans, and that's most people, are experiencing the "big squeeze." In fact, they're trying to survive one of the most profound social and economic changes in our history. The middle class is disappearing, facing a decline in standards of living. So you'd hope that the Democrats in Denver next week and the Republicans in St. Paul the following week would confront this crisis head on and not just serenade struggling families with a chorus of sympathetic but meaningless sound bites.

As wages stagnate, prices are soaring. Economists call this pain the "misery index." It's a combination of the unemployment and inflation rates, and it's what politicians have in mind when they ask, "Are you better off than you were four years ago?" Well, the misery index is the highest it's been since George Bush's father became president, seventeen years ago.

At the end of Moyers' report, he quotes former IMF chief economist Ken Rogoff who said at a recent conference in Singapore, "The U.S. is not out of the woods. I think the financial crisis is at the halfway point, perhaps. I would even go further to say 'the worst is to come.'"

Yikes. I really laughed hard at this article a few years back, from the Onion, entitled: "National Museum Of The Middle Class Opens In Schaumburg, IL." Somehow it's not as funny anymore.

The Genius of Damon Albarn

I just listened to the Damon Albarn-scored Monkey: Journey to the West, a soundtrack to the circus/opera of the same name that has been touring the world since last year, and it's utterly amazing.

With conceptual collaboration from Gorillaz illustrator Jamie Hewlett, you would expect nothing more than a little well-worn Gorillaz hybrid territory: hip-hop beats, indie rock sensibilities, eclectic guest singers and rappers, and perhaps a dash of Chinese string instruments to go along with the theme in this case. But the album is so much more than that: orchestral, sweeping, stately, cinematic and majestic; it utilizes authentic Chinese musical stylings and incorporates Mandarin-speaking vocalists. Albarn even went so far as to invent new musical instruments. According to The New Yorker:

While visiting the city of Yinchuan, in Ninzxia Province, Albarn spent an afternoon lying on the floor of his hotel room recording the sound of horns in the street. When he returned to London, he enlisted David Coulter, a multi-instrumentalist and conductor, and the visual artist Gavin Turk to help him build an instrument that plays notes using nothing but the air horns found in cars. The resulting instrument—Albarn calls it a klaxophone—is almost as big as a piano: thirty-six air horns housed in a wood-and-Plexiglas box powered by an air compressor from a dentist’s office and operated by a series of colored buttons and a pink joystick lifted from an arcade game.

The former Britpop poster boy has come quite a long way since he fronted the band Blur back in the '90s. He's since scored film soundtracks, had about a half dozen side projects (Gorillaz; The Good, The Bad & The Queen) and has now helped to create a multimedia opera that may become synonymous with all the Beijing Olympics '08 hype (see the BBC's Hewlett-animated promotional video).

The playlist below highlights some of my favorite Damon Albarn musical inventions, in chronological order, starting with my favorite Blur songs. The last track is from Monkey, called "Heavenly Peach Banquet." And it is just so beautiful and haunting. Enjoy:

Like a slug in a sandpaper trenchcoat

The winners of San Jose State University's Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest were announced this week, and they were sublimely craptastic. The Bulwer-Lytton competition enables amateur writers to come up with "purple prose"--or overly flowery, garish writing that oftentimes changes perspective through a flighty narrative--a kind of ode to author Edward Bulwer-Lytton.

Bulwer-Lytton was a Victorian-era writer and politician known for the clichéd novel opener: "It was a dark and stormy night." He was also known for such phrases as "the great unwashed," "the pursuit of the almighty dollar," and "the pen is mightier than the sword." Apparently the only work that was widely received when he wrote it in 1834 was The Last Days of Pompeii, which, according to wikipedia:

...culminates in the cataclysmic destruction of the city of Pompeii by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD...uses its characters to contrast the decadent culture of first-century Rome with both older cultures and coming trends. The protagonist, Glaucus, represents the Greeks who have been subordinated by Rome, and his nemesis Arbaces the still older culture of Egypt. Olinthus is the chief representative of the nascent Christian religion, which is presented favorably but not uncritically. The Witch of Vesuvius, though she has no supernatural powers, shows Bulwer-Lytton's interest in the occult - a theme which would emerge in his later writing, particularly The Coming Race.

The winning entry in Bulwer-Lytton's legacy competition came from Communications Director Garrison Spik of Washington, D.C., who cites Devo, Nathaniel Hawthorne and the film "Curse of Bigfoot" as inspirations.

Spik's winning submission:

"Theirs was a New York love, a checkered taxi ride burning rubber, and like the city their passion was open 24/7, steam rising from their bodies like slick streets exhaling warm, moist, white breath through manhole covers stamped 'Forged by DeLaney Bros., Piscataway, N.J.' "

Brilliantly pretentious. A professor from SJ State explained to the Washington Post why the passage was such a winning failure:

"It starts out in a familiar vein, one more attempt to define the nature of someone's exquisite love," says Scott Rice gravely. Rice is the lit professor at San Jose State University who founded the contest back in 1982. "But mentioning a cab is somewhat of a step down, and finally at the end it degenerates all the way to a manhole cover with the little detail about Piscataway."

Here's a few of my favorite runner-ups:

"The mongrel dog began to lick her cheek voraciously with his sopping wet tongue, so wide and flat and soft, a miniature pink fleshy cape soaked through the oozing with liquid salivary gratitude; after all, she had rescued him from the clutches of Bernard, the curmudgeonly one-eyed dogcatcher, whose tongue--she remembered vividly the tongues of all her lovers--was coarse and lethargic, like a slug in a sandpaper trenchcoat."
--Christopher Wey
Pittsburgh, PA

"Mike Hummer had been a private detective so long he could remember Preparation A, his hair reminded everyone of a rat who'd bitten into an electrical cord, but he could still run faster than greased owl snot when he was on a bad guy's trail, and they said his friskings were a lot like getting a vasectomy at Sears."
--Robert B. Robeson
Lincoln, Nebraska

"Our tale takes place one century before the reign of Alboin, the Lombard king who would one day conquer most of Italy and who would end up being murdered by his own wife (quite rightfully, I'd say, since Albion made a drinking cup out of her daddy's skull and forced her to drink from it), when our little Sonnebert was seven years old."
--Edo Steinberg
Beer-Sheva, Israel

I would like to add my own beginning passage. It's something I came across a few days ago when I was cleaning out my documents. I was under the influence of pulp/noir detective stories, and, at the time, was working in a London pub and obsessing over the Liverpudlian restaurant manager. Sadly, I was not aiming for humor when I wrote this. And yes, I thought "eyeshaunting" sounded really good at the time. Here goes:

Adam. Who was this mysterious deep-set eyeshaunting slender, graceful work of art, and of all names that of the original man? Adam: tall and lanky, brilliant sun behind his every move as he breezes through the colorless masses in a parkside London pub on an unforgivably humid summer day. With sun-kissed hair and one eyebrow arched at the sight of a stranger, I was about to find out.

Apologies for any nausea induced upon reading the above passage.

Life's Enduring Questions

Over the course of my 29 years on this planet, only a few burning questions have lingeringly floated through the echo chambers of my mind--as a youth and adult--and left me without answers: Was the untimely death of Marilyn Monroe really a suicide? Are alien spacecrafts currently held in Area 51? Was my hometown built on top of a series of Native American burial grounds and therefore a good number of homes remain haunted?

Today, I have discovered the answer to one of (my) life's great mysteries. The rumors that the popular 1995 Alanis Morrisette song, "You Oughta Know," was inspired by Dave Coulier, aka "Uncle Joey" on Full House, are actually true.

The Calgary Herald recently unleashed a Dave Coulier exclusive:

He says he was driving when he first heard the tune.

"I said, 'Wow, this girl is angry.' And then I said, 'Oh man, I think it's Alanis,'" Coulier tells the Calgary Herald. "I listened to the song over and over again, and I said, 'I think I have really hurt this person.'"

Inundated with press calls, he says he tried to get a hold of her — and eventually got through.

"I said, 'Hi. Uh, what do you want me to say?'" he recalls. "And she said, 'You can say whatever you want.'"

Eventually, he says, "we saw each other and hung out for an entire day. And it was beautiful. It was one of those things where it was kind of like, 'We're good.'"

Let's recap some of the lyrics shall we?

An older version of me
Is she perverted like me
Would she go down on you in a theater


Or how about:

'Cause the joke that you laid on the bed that was me
And I'm not gonna fade As soon as you close your eyes
And you know it
And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back I hope you feel it
Well can you feel it?

Let's all let out a collective, "Eeeeeew Uncle Joey....grrrossss."

SUCK IT, MCCAIN

According to the Center for Responsive Politics, a non-partisan public interest group whose reports can be read via the website OpenSecrets.org, it seems our troops overwhelmingly prefer Obama to McCain for president, by a margin of six to one:

Despite McCain's status as a decorated veteran and a historically Republican bent among the military, members of the armed services overall -- whether stationed overseas or at home -- are also favoring Obama with their campaign contributions in 2008, by a $55,000 margin. Although 59 percent of federal contributions by military personnel has gone to Republicans this cycle, of money from the military to the presumed presidential nominees, 57 percent has gone to Obama.

Suck it, grandpa!

Goodbye, Penis Envy!

Hello, P-Mate!


I want to have a pissing contest with this lady, Jamie Holland. We'll haul a keg into Central Park after a good snow, down a few, and just piss our names all over the fields, along with, "Chicks don't need dicks!" or "I am a lady and I am free to pee!" We'll just golden shower it up in front of a crowd of onlookers, and find out who can strategically urinate the longest. And you know what, it probably won't be considered indecent exposure because it won't be our man parts hanging out, but a strange funnel-like contraption "made of recyclable materials" that is "shaped to fit the female body form." I love me some technology and innovation.

Zen and the Art of Loving Las Vegas

I'm sun burned, broke, and on what seems to be an endless hangover...but I'm glad I did it, I'm glad I stayed in Las Vegas for nearly one week. Bless you oh land of opportunity/reckless oasis of sin and filth/harbinger to a return to the nihilistic banality that envelops nearly every other city that is not you!

I'm not supposed to like the place, grew up around casinos in Tahoe and was purposefully steered away from learning about such things as poker and blackjack. Casinos were where I had to follow my mother to get her paycheck: strategically hopping from one geometric shape on the gaudy carpeting to the next, through tobacco-tainted smoke clouds and the endless tableau of adult zombies glued to video poker like moths to flames. The roaring clashes of coins in the slot machines still haunt me. It was not a glamorous scene.

But I was not about to go to Vegas for the glamor, nay, I was there for the spectacle.

I think you have to go with the right group of people, or mind frame, to enjoy the city of sin for what it is: a bastardization of all things cultural, worldly, prudish, environmentally scenic and graceful. It's like all of the casino proprietors and developers are like, "Hey! F-you Paris! F-you New York! F-you natural lighting, Venetian canals and Greek statues! We're going to turn all of you into potty stops and minor points of interest along one sick pub crawl where visitors will spend nearly everything they can possibly spend and then some! Yaaaaay Capitalism with a capital C! Go Team America!!!"

In this respect, Las Vegas is a stunning testament to an overindulgence in the indoctrination of American capitalism. --I saw a Neiman Marcus the size of two city blocks! And inside the shopping plaza at Caesar's Palace, there are kiosks with slurpee machines filled with slushy margaritas and daiquiris right outside of Versace and Louis Vuitton boutiques!

Alien concepts to Las Vegas: moderation, regulation, responsibility, subtlety.

What people don't tend to think about is that this rebellious attitude extends, historically, to the state's relationship with the Federal Government. This is a state that has been going through a major drought for years with its dependency on the ever-dry Colorado River, yet maintains a massive man-made lake so that private yachts can flaunt themselves like floating peacocks. A state where an organized-crime boss named Bugsy Siegel made an honest living and in turn created a major city, and a state where civil liberties have always held true to the spirit of the Wild West (i.e., generous gun, prostitution and public drinking laws, etc etc).

And then you think about all the atomic testing, Area 51, the toxic waste dumping grounds and whatever else no one hears about, and you realize: this is one f-ed up state. Not the ideal breeding ground for a nuclear (no pun intended) family. Novelist Elizabeth Benedict, in the essay "Searching for Treasure in Las Vegas" states:

Nevada has been a victim of the government's exploitation in a way no other state has been. It has also quite deliberately created its own smarmy identity — by legalizing gambling, in 1931, and prostitution, quickie divorces and quickie marriages— in a way no other state has done...Nevada is the homely girl from the wrong side of the tracks who knows the only way to become popular is to let all the boys sleep with her, and so becomes the town whore. The state itself — terrain, natural resources, weather — was not much of an enticement as a destination to live or to visit, until it became the only place in the country you could easily get married, get divorced, get laid, and maybe even get rich quick. It's easy to become the town whore. It might even happen overnight. But once you are, it's tough to transform yourself into anyone else.

Concepts I could do without, and did, in Las Vegas: elitism, oppressive policemen and patrolling, apparent presence of homelessness, bourgeois influence.

As long as you have money to burn, you can access whatever social environment you so choose. To my knowledge, none of the clubs we visited excluded anyone based on attire or looks. Sometimes, I was told, you can't wear flip-flops, but that's about it.

And, as a woman who considers herself a feminist and has had to live with the indignation of sexual harassment on the street through the years, I loved seeing flyers and billboards of scantily-clad women in every direction. There was so much commodifiable sex that nobody seemed to notice female bystanders. I guess men get so inundated with sexual options that they just give up. No creepy stares, kissy noises, unnecessary propositions...I could have walked around in a bikini and no one would pay any mind. I respect that in a city.

From space, Las Vegas is the brightest city on the planet. According to my shuttle bus driver, who must have been loaded what with all the swerving, the city's casinos take in roughly $18 million per day. And it all started with a few gangsters with dreams so big that no rule of law could stop them. And the legacy continues, with corporate robber barons picking up the slack. Hunter S. Thompson was wrong, Las Vegas is not the death of the American Dream. It's the only place where it still lives--albeit a bit anemically.

(Bonus section)
The Top Five Greatest Things To Do in Vegas:

5. Drink margaritas poolside in lieu of breakfast. Bonus points for drinking margaritas out of plastic cowboy boots or Eiffel towers. Negative points for drinking margaritas at Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville (they don't even play that song there--rip off!).

4. Jump on the bed/dance to the Top Gun soundtrack. Especially Kenny Loggins' "Playing with the Boys."

3. Watch other people wig out on the hallucinogen salvia (it's legal in Nevada).

2. Rap the copy of the bible found in your nightstand (John W: "The Book of Job has a particularly pleasing iambic pentameter!").

1. Eat your weight in Alaskan crab legs and shrimp cocktail at the Spice Market buffet.

Murakami on Getz
(From the music issue of The Believer):

I have lost myself in many novels over the years, and been entranced by many jazz performances. Yet, for me, F. Scott Fitzgerald means "the novel," while Stan Getz is synonymous with "jazz"...

Of all Getz's works, my very favorite is the two-disc set recorded live at the Storyville jazz club in 1951...The rhythm of Al Haig, Jimmy Raney, Teddy Kotick, and Tiny Kahn is perfect: they come across straight and cool, yet their rhythm flows with the smoldering force of subterranean lava. Even so, Getz is far and away the best. Soaring like Pegasus, he sweeps away the clouds to reveal a single, blinding moment the bright panoply of stars. The music crashes against us in vivid waves, transcending time. What explains the power? It is because his melodies mercilessly awaken the pack of starving wolves each of our souls holds within itself. The breath of these beasts sinks wordlessly into the snow, so thick and white and beautiful you feel you could almost cut it with a knife. It is this that Stan Getz's music allows us to comtemplate, the fateful cruelty that lies shrouded in the deep forests of our souls.

Looking for love in all the weird places

It's a modern day love story that's sure to prove classic one day: boy doesn't meet girl, opting to obsessively stare, from afar, on a New York City subway train. Boy then creates website, NYGirlOfMyDreams.com, in the hopes of taking Craiglist's "Missed Connections" concept to bored-Williamsburg-hipster graphic extremes, with clever captions of hip sketches to demonstrate ironic propriety, in the hopes that this novel idea will allow other NY hipsters to recognize the stylish attire of obsessed-upon girl, and pass the website's address on to someone who may know or is in fact assumed, "NYGirlOfMyDreams." The scheme actually works, and within 48 hours someone who knows the girl alerts the boy. Days later, boy meets girl and, according to reports, they "hit it off."

But then, just yesterday, an update from the Australian press on this epic love story of our times, the headline reads: New York Subway romance the end of the line

Alas, after international media coverage, a spot on "Good Morning America", and a movie adaptation in the works of the incident, their love is no more. After TWO epic months, the "subway soul mates" are no more.

--As ridiculous as I think this story is, I can't help but feel really sorry for Moberg, the boy, who sounds really sad in the few quotes he gave to the press. I mean, it seems like the girl used him for the media attention; the article paints her as a struggling actress opportunist. (Hayton is the girl's last name):

Hayton told The Sunday Telegraph that she is enjoying single life in New York, keeping busy with acting classes, working in two vintage clothing stores and as a waitress.

Last week she had a small role as a waitress in the long-running daytime soap "As The World Turns" and last year she was an extra in a "blink and you'd miss it" scene in the hit movie "Sex And The City."

"I just can't believe it happened. It feels like a long time ago," said Hayton.

Moberg, however, was still refusing to comment on the relationship.

"We've decided not to do any more press," he wrote in an e-mail to Reuters.

R.I.P. Modern Classic Love Story of Our Times, R.I.P.

Batman in Dark Times

(Spoiler alert: there are no spoilers)

Last night I saw The Dark Knight and I'd like to think I know why it's blowing away all these box office records; I'd like to think it has nothing to do with the mystique of watching a newly-deceased young actor resurrected on the screen for one final performance.

I saw it all-American style: blown-up on the IMAX, larger than life, and with a brewsky in my hand. And I'll admit I needed it, as I tend to get really stressed out during action thrillers and horror films--not scared, mind you, just really stressed out. Many times I will catch myself yelling in hysterics: "can't you run any faster?!" "shit! are you trying to get killed?!?" --it just makes my blood pressure rise and I inevitably emerge from the darkened theater really nervous and shaky. This time around though, I had the beer, and two of my best friends beside me: Sarah V to my left with her can of Sparks, and Tessa B, with her hands on her ears the entire time (she can stand the sight of gore and violence, she just doesn't like to listen to it).

So Heath: yes, his performance was fantastic, despite my not wanting to like him in it. I really didn't want to like this demonic version of the Joker because I've always seen Jack Nicholson as the only person in that role--dancin' around to Prince with smoking-hot Vicky Vale runnin' around--that's how I'd like to remember the character and the Batman franchise in general. When Christian Bale came out on the scene I thought, 'what's American Psycho boy doin' thinking he can replace Michael Keaton?" --I thought he had this really machismo, Steven Segal-esque demeanor that totally turned me off to his version of Batman.

But different times call for different Batmans. In a post-9/11 world, this Batman is referred to as a "vigilante," fighting terrorists and eradicating evil. Although the word "terrorist" is only mentioned twice, the bulk of the action clearly echoes elements of the supposed "War" on Terror, i.e., the bombing of public spaces (the Joker implicitly threatening everyone as a suicide bomber throughout), various forms of torture and abuse, corporate crime, government corruption, surveillance of the citizenry, etc etc. (Speaking of corporate crime, the shots of the tops of skyscrapers in Hong Kong were absolutely breathtaking on the IMAX).

So we know there's going to be a showdown between the Batman and the Joker--no surprise there--but I really appreciated how, as the violence escalates and pressures mount to track down the elusive archenemy--there is this added element of introspection felt on behalf of the caped crusader and thus the audience. Unlike the "War" on Terror, the plight to protect the city of Gotham against the Joker and his henchmen is one of painstaking decision-making where lofty utilitarian ideals are challenged time and again. The rumination of the crusader conflicted by the surplus of collateral damage: what a concept.

And here's this "Joker," a modern-day Shiva of Hindu myth, seducing the world to total destruction through alluring flights of fancy. Like Shiva, he is "the benevolent herdsman of souls and the wrathful avenger" because his sadistic joy in death and destruction is fueled by an anarchist/nihilist ideology with an underlying ethical agenda. (Okay: spoiler alert) I call it "ethical" because of the dialogue between the Joker and Harvey Dent in the hospital, where he convinces Dent that chaos and chance are more fair and indiscriminate than law and order. He says something about how, when people hear about a gang member or a SOLDIER (emphasis mine) getting killed, they think nothing of it and it is accepted. Yet, when a policeman or a public official gets killed, that's a different story. He doesn't find that fair, and therefore he lives by a code of ethics of sorts whereby indiscriminate, unbridled chaos is the only means of restoring a functioning social structure.

The film also glimmers with allegorical scenarios of our times: when Batman yells at Denton not to kill one of the Joker's henchmen because he is a mental patient (umm..prison industrial complex commentary perhaps? incarceration vs. rehabilitation?) or when Batman has these surveillance-video specs on so that he can see what all the people in Gotham are doing all at once, yet he is trying to battle the Joker who is standing right in front of him (hello? the President's decision to tie up Homeland Security with wiretapping while not focusing on defending us effectively?)

And, although I hate to even go here and over-analyze, or even dare breach the romantic, flowery illusion of our dear Barack Obama and infer that he is somehow a "two-faced" imperfect pol, does this picture of the Dent character not remind us of the saccharine, platitudinous heart of the Obama campaign?



And with all the cliche Italian mobsters, black street thugs and arms dealers, et al in cahoots with global investment banks and government officials, the scene is set for a more profound message: there is no way to ultimately eradicate evil, just like, in the "War" on Terror, there is no ultimate way to eradicate terror.

There can be no doubt that the comic book-based blockbuster film is the paramount medium from which artists are effectively condemning and critiquing the American Empire and its discontents (fancy that, a medium once targeting hormonal teenage boys with superhero obsessions, now utilized to feed the masses with compelling war and social commentary).

Comic book stories like V for Vendetta and Iron Man have been around for decades. Why they are striking a chord with audiences right now, I would hope, has little to do with the explosive, action-packed spectacle or the top Hollywood names involved. I would hope it has everything to do with the much-needed catharsis of the zeitgeist.

The Great Battle of Wesley Willis v Donna Summer

I think I've got a new neurological disorder--somebody alert the APA! I have TWO cases of the earworms (or as Oliver Sacks likes to call it "involuntary musical imagery"). The first, Donna Summer's "McArthur Park":



The other, Wesley Willis' "Rock n Roll McDonald's":



The Donna Summer is stuck pretty good you guys. So much so that I had a dream about it the other night. The following dialog occurred, in the dream, on the phone (this is all I can remember):

Unknown person: I can't come over I am camping. At McArthur Park.

Me: McArthur BART (an Oakland train stop)? Why would you camp at a BART station?

Unknown person: McArthur Park!

Me: I am hearing: McArthur BART.

Unknown person: McArthur Park! I'm at the park! It's melting in the dark!

(The end).

They say that songs stay in one's head because there is an element within the tune itself: the melodic structure is hard to follow, the lyrics don't make any sense; and the mind is left puzzled and trying to fit the pieces together. In this case I think the problem has to do with the latter explanation. Probably the part where Summer says something about a "yellow cotton dress foaming like a wave" or "birds like tender babies in your hand" or the cake with green frosting melting in the rain. I've sung this song to people and they don't believe that these are the actual lyrics. But they are--watch the video.

With the Wesley Willis, I think it's the pre-programmed Casio country beat, especially the middle instrumental segment. I mean, I think the lyrics are pretty straightforward: "they serve quarter pounders, they will put pounds on you!" But I probably have this song stuck in my head because John W made me sing it all day last weekend, because I can sing that one pitch-perfect and I know all the words (to the chorus).

Donna Summer may have won this battle--considering the fact that she has seeped into my dream realm--but I swear to you Donna Summer, the war has just begun! I am full of obscure songs that will beat out your bizarro cake song one of these days!

Carter's Law Day Speech

The excerpts of the following speech were taken from the Jimmy Carter Library (See full transcript here). In May of 1974, then-Georgia Governor Jimmy Carter gave a"Law Day" address at the University of Georgia before Senator Edward Kennedy, several prominent Georgia attorneys and law students.

I recently heard some of this speech in a brilliant documentary about Hunter S. Thompson, “Gonzo.” (Excerpts of this speech can also be found in Thompson's The Great Shark Hunt).

Carter's topics: Bob Dylan, homemade cookies, Dr. King, peanut farming, nuclear physics, the Wright Bros, commitment to the status quo, Tolstoy, Napoleon, and Thomas Jefferson.


…I'm not qualified to talk to you about law, because in addition to being a peanut farmer, I'm an engineer and a nuclear physicist, not a lawyer. I was planning, really, to talk to you more today about politics, and the inter-relationship of political affairs and law, than about what I'm actually going to speak on. But after Senator Kennedy's delightful and very fine response to political questions during his speech, and after his analysis of the Watergate problems, I stopped at a room on the way, while he had his press conference, and I changed my speech notes.

My own interest in the criminal justice system is very deep and heartfelt. Not having studied law, I've had to learn the hard way. I read a lot and listen a lot. One of the sources for my understanding about the proper application of criminal justice and the system of equity is from reading Reinhold Niebuhr, one of his books that Bill Gunter gave me quite a number of years ago. The other source of my understanding about what's right and wrong in this society is from a friend of mine, a poet named Bob Dylan. After listening to his records about "The Ballad of Hattie Carol" and "Like a Rolling Stone" and "The Times, They Are a-Changing," I've learned to appreciate the dynamism of change in a modern society.

I grew up as a landowner's son. But I don't think I ever realized the proper interrelationship between the landowner and those who worked on a farm until I heard Dylan's record, "I Ain't Gonna Work on Maggie's Farm No More." So I come here speaking to you today about your subject with a base for my information founded on Reinhold Niebuhr and Bob Dylan.

One of the things that Niebuhr says is that the sad duty of the political system is to establish justice in a sinful world. He goes on to say that there's no way to establish or maintain justice without law; that the laws are constantly changing to stabilize the social equilibrium of the forces and counterforces of a dynamic society; and that the law in its totality is an expression of the structure of government…

…I would like to talk to you for few moments about some of the practical aspects of being a governor who is still deeply concerned about the inadequacies of a system of which it is obvious that you're so patently proud. I have refrained completely from making any judicial appointments on the basis of political support or other factors, and have chosen, in every instance, Superior Court judges, quite often state judges, Appellate Court judges, on the basis of merit analysis by a highly competent, open, qualified group of distinguished Georgians. I'm proud of this…

…I don't know exactly how to say this, but I was thinking just a few moments ago about some of the things that are of deep concern to me as a governor. As a scientist, I was working constantly, along with almost everyone who professes that dedication of life, to probe, probe every day of my life for constant changes for the better. It's completely anachronistic in the make-up of a nuclear physicist or an engineer or scientist to be satisfied with what we've got, or to rest on the laurels of past accomplishments. It's the nature of the profession.

As a farmer, the same motivation persists. Every farmer that I know of, who is worth his salt or who's just average, is ahead of the experimental stations and research agronomist in finding better ways, changing ways to plant, cultivate, utilize herbicides, gather, cure, sell farm products. The competition for innovation is tremendous, equivalent to the realm of nuclear physics, even.

In my opinion, it's different in the case of lawyers. And maybe this is a circumstance that is so inherently true that it can't be changed.

I'm a Sunday school teacher, and I've always known that the structure of law is founded on a Christian ethic that you shall love the Lord your God and your neighbor as yourself - a very high and perfect standard. We all know the fallibility of man, and the contentions in society, as described by Reinhold Niebuhr, and many others, don't permit us to achieve perfection. We do strive for equality, but not with a fervent and daily commitment. In general, the powerful and the influential in our society shape the laws and have a great influence on the legislature or the Congress. This creates a reluctance to change because the powerful and the influential have carved out for themselves or have inherited a privileged position in society, of wealth or social prominence or higher education or opportunity for the future. Quite often, those circumstances are circumvented at a very early age because college students, particularly undergraduates, don't have any commitment to the preservation of the way things are. But later, as their interrelationship with the present circumstances grows, they also become committed to approaching change very, very slowly and very, very cautiously, and there's a commitment to the status quo…

…I remember when I was a child, I lived on a farm about 3 miles from Plains, and we didn't have electricity or running water. We lived on the railroad - Seaboard Coastline Railroad. Like all farm boys, I had a flip, a slingshot. They had stabilized the railroad bed with little white round rocks, which I used for ammunition. I would go out frequently to the railroad and gather the most perfectly shaped rocks of proper size. I always had a few in my pockets, and I had others cached away around the farm, so that they would be convenient if I ran out of my pocket supply.

One day I was leaving the railroad track with my pockets full of rocks and hands full of rocks, and my mother came out on the front porch - this is not a very interesting story but it illustrates a point - and she had in her hands a plate full of cookies that she had just baked for me. She called me - I am sure with love in her heart - and said, "Jimmy, I've baked some cookies for you." I remember very distinctly walking up to her and standing there for 15 or 20 seconds in honest doubt about whether I should drop those rocks which were worthless and take the cookies that my mother had prepared for me, which between her and me were very valuable….

…Quite often, we have the same inclination in our everyday lives. We don't recognize that change can sometimes be very beneficial, although we fear it. Anyone who lives in the South looks back on the last 15 to 20 years with some degree of embarrassment, including myself…

…Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who was perhaps despised by many in this room because he shook up our social structure that benefited us, and demanded simply that black citizens be treated the same as white citizens, wasn't greeted with approbation and accolades by the Georgia Bar Association or the Alabama Bar Association. He was greeted with horror. Still, once that change was made, a very simple but difficult change, no one in his right mind would want to go back to circumstances prior to that juncture in the development of our nation's society…

I don't want to go on and on; I'm part of it. But the point I want to make to you is that we still have a long way to go. In every age or every year, we have a tendency to believe that we've come so far now, that there's no way to improve the present system. I'm sure when the Wright Brothers flew at Kitty Hawk, they felt that was the ultimate in transportation. When the first atomic bomb was exploded, that was the ultimate development in nuclear physics, and so forth.

Well, we haven't reached the ultimate. But who's going to search the heart and soul of an organization like yours or a law school or state or nation and say, "What can we still do to restore equity and justice or to preserve it or to enhance it in this society?" You know, I'm not afraid to make the change. I don't have anything to lose. But, as a farmer, I'm not qualified to assess the characteristics of the 9,100 inmates in the Georgia prisons, 50 percent of whom ought not to be there. They ought to be on probation or under some other supervision and assess what the results of previous court rulings might bring to bear on their lives.

I was in the governor's mansion for 2 years, enjoying the services of a very fine cook, who was a prisoner - a woman. One day she came to me, after she got over her 2 years of timidity, and said, "Governor, I would like to borrow $250 from you."

I said, "I'm not sure that a lawyer would be worth that much."

She said, " I don't want to hire a lawyer. I want to pay the judge."

I thought it was a ridiculous statement for her; I felt that she was ignorant. But I found out she wasn't. She had been sentenced by a superior court judge in the state, who still serves, to 7 years or $750. She had raised, early in her prison career, $500. I didn't lend her the money, but I had Bill Harper, my legal aide, look into it. He found the circumstances were true. She was quickly released under a recent court ruling that had come down in the past few years...

…In closing, I'd like to just illustrate the point by something that came to mind this morning when I was talking to Senator Kennedy about his trip to Russia.

When I was about 12 years old, I liked to read, and I had a school principal, named Miss Julia Coleman, Judge Marshall knows her. She forced me pretty much to read, read, read, classical books. She would give me a gold star when I read 10 and a silver star when I read 5.

One day, she called me in and she said, "Jimmy, I think it's time for you to read 'War and Peace.'" I was completely relieved because I thought it was a book about cowboys and Indians.

Well, I went to the library and checked it out, and it was 1,415 pages thick, I think, written by Tolstoy, as you know, about Napoleon's entry into Russia in the 1812-15 era. He had never been defeated, and he was sure he could win, but he underestimated the severity of the Russian winter and the peasants' love for their land.

To make a long story short, the next spring he retreated in defeat. The course of history was changed; it probably affected our own lives.

The point of the book is, and what Tolstoy points out in the epilogue is, that he didn't write the book about Napoleon or the Czar of Russia or even the generals, except in a rare occasion. He wrote it about the students and the housewives and the barbers and the farmers and the privates in the army. And the point of the book is that the course of human events, even the greatest historical events, are not determined by the leaders of a nation or a state, like Presidents or governors or senators. They are controlled by the combined wisdom and courage and commitment and discernment and unselfishness and compassion and love and idealism of the common ordinary people. If that was true in the case of Russia where they had a czar or France where they had an emperor, how much more true is it in our own case where the Constitution charges us with a direct responsibility for determining what our government is and ought to be?

Well, I've read parts of the embarrassing transcripts, and I've seen the proud statement of a former attorney general, who protected his boss, and now brags on the fact that he tiptoed through a mine field and came out "clean." I can't imagine somebody like Thomas Jefferson tiptoeing through a mine field on the technicalities of the law, and then bragging about being clean afterwards.

I think our people demand more than that. I believe that everyone in this room who is in a position of responsibility as a preserver of the law in its purest form ought to remember the oath that Thomas Jefferson and others took when they practically signed their own death warrant, writing the Declaration of Independence - to preserve justice and equity and freedom and fairness, they pledged their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor.

Thank you very much.