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Illuminating fun, faith,
family and foolishness.

“Peace, prosperity, liberty and morals
have an intimate connection.”

- Thomas Jefferson

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Learn the lessons

Update:

The real issue here isn't what the parents believe, it is whether they or the State have the right and the responsibility to determine the best education for their children. This is fundamental, whether the State is totalitarian, benevolent or a right-wing theocracy. How would people react if their children were required by law to go to the latter? Will some parents fail spectacularly at this? Of course. And so do many schools. Yet the principles of liberty and freedom must be vigorously and vigilantly defended at every point, especially within the family.

We are better served by honoring and defending the rights of the individual than we are promoting the authority of the State. I learned that in school, once, a long time ago.


On the heels of an article in the St. Paul paper this week about the surge in homeschooling in the U.S., I read an article today about a German family seeking political asylum in Tennessee so that they can homeschool their children.

MORRISTOWN, Tenn. — Homeschooling is so important to Uwe Romeike that the classically trained pianist sold his beloved grand pianos to pay for moving his wife and five children from Germany to the Smoky Mountain foothills of Tennessee.

Romeike, his wife, Hannelore, and their children live in a modest duplex about 40 miles northeast of Knoxville while they seek political asylum here. They say they were persecuted for their evangelical Christian beliefs and homeschooling their children in Germany, where state school attendance is compulsory.

When the Romeikes wouldn't comply with repeated orders to send the children to school, police came to their home one October morning in 2006 and took the children, crying and upset, to school.

"We tried not to open the door, but they (police) kept ringing the doorbell for 15 or 20 minutes," Romeike said. "They called us by phone and spoke on the answering machine and said they would knock open the door if we didn't open it. So I opened it."

The Romeike's case may sound extreme, but the fact is Germany is adamantly anti-home education, as I've reported in this blog on a couple of occasions. The first time was in November of 2006 in a post entitled Ve haf vays...

Stones Cry Out excerpted a story last week about German police forcibly delivering home-schooled children to the local state schools.

A Nazi-era law requiring all children to attend public school, to avoid "the emergence of parallel societies based on separate philosophical convictions" that could be taught by parents at home, apparently is triggering a Nazi-like response from police.

The word comes from Netzwerk Bildungsfreiheit, or Network for Freedom in Education, which confirmed that children in a family in Bissingen, in the state of Baden-Wuerttemberg, have been forcibly hauled to a public school.

"On Friday 20 October 2006 at around 7:30 a.m. the children of a home educating family ... were brought under duress to school by police," the organization, which describes itself as politically and religiously neutral, confirmed.

A separate weblog in the United States noted the same tragedy.

Homeschoolblogger.com noted that the "three children were picked up by the police and escorted to school in Baden-Wurttemberg, with the 'promise' that it would happen again this week."

The Network for Freedom in Education, through spokesman Joerg Grosseluemern, said the Remeike family has been "home educating their children since the start of the school year, something which is legal in practically the whole of the (European Union)."

It kind of makes you wonder about a government that's afraid of what parents might teach their children...or that believes it is the rightful parent of the nation. Perhaps they've read their William Ross Wallace and know that "the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world," and they find that discomforting. I'm also amazed that this "Nazi-era" law is still on the books in Germany; it is all für der Kinder, no doubt.

This all reminds me of how the roots of the U.S. education system go deep into the Prussian model of the early 20th century (believe me, we got more than just "kindergarten" from this influence). I had started digging into this topic for a post a long time ago and got sidetracked; it might be time to resurrect this effort. For now, at least, we can appreciate that our money is the only thing the state forcibly takes from our homes and sends to public school.

Like the Pilgrims before them, the Romeikes came to America seeking religious freedom (not freedom from religion) and to live their lives free of government interference. Good thing for them they came to Tennessee, though, and not California where the education unions and courts march in goose-step together, as I wrote about here last March...

More compelling was one judge's written opinion:
"California courts have held that ... parents do not have a constitutional right to home-school their children," Justice H. Walter Croskey said in the 3-0 ruling issued on Feb. 28. "Parents have a legal duty to see to their children's schooling under the provisions of these laws."

Parents can be criminally prosecuted for failing to comply, Croskey said.

The ruling sent shock waves throughout the estimated 166,000 home-educators in California as well as through the California legislature and even Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, who said, "Every California child deserves a quality education, and parents should have the right to decide what's best for their children. Parents should not be penalized for acting in the best interests of their children's education. This outrageous ruling must be overturned by the courts, and, if the courts don't protect parents' rights, then, as elected officials, we will." Interestingly enough, Schwarzenegger's signing of SB777 last year may be one of the things that have led many parents to abandon the public schools. Give the Governator credit though; he may not be great at logic but he definitely knows how to count votes and probably realizes that whatever other political beliefs a homeschooling family may have, telling them that they have no right to educate their own children trumps them all.

Personally, I'm not shocked. California has long been the most overtly hostile state toward home-educators (ironically it's own school system struggles to place a certified teacher in every classroom, yet would seek to mandate it in every home-school). Similarly, Education Minnesota has no love lost for home-educators and my hunch is that they wouldn't mind if their pet DFL pupils in the Minnesota legislature were to bring them a similar bill as if it were a bright, shiny apple.

Of course, it takes a real socialist mentality to proclaim that the State is the rightful owner of your children, as I've documented before regarding events in England and Germany. The Germans, in fact, are still embracing the 1937 law instituted by a certain mustachioed megalomaniac that mandates compulsory state school educations. Seventy years later they're still enforcing it by forcibly taking kids from their homes to school in police cars or even removing children from their parents' homes and hiding them in psychiatric hospitals for evaluation.

Maybe the Germans have this thing about control, but surely a liberal democracy and member of the European Union would have respect for things like rights and constitutions, right? After all, the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union declares that "the State shall respect the right of parents to ensure education and teaching is in conformity with their own religious and philosophical convictions". Yet according to the entry in Wikipedia where I got that quote:

Homeschooling in Germany is illegal with rare exceptions. The requirement to attend school has been upheld, on challenge from parents, by the Federal Constitutional Court of Germany. Parents violating the law have most prominently included devout Christians who want to give their children a more Christian education than what is offered by the schools. Penalties against these parents have included fines (around €5,000), successful legal actions to take away the parents' custody of their children, and jail time for the parents.[1]

In a landmark legal case commenced in 2003 at the European Court of Human Rights a homeschooling parent couple argued on behalf of their children that Germany's compulsory school attendance endangered their children’s religious upbringing, promoted teaching inconsistent with their Christian faith — especially the German State's mandates relating to sex education in the schools — and contravened the declaration in the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union that "the State shall respect the right of parents to ensure education and teaching is in conformity with their own religious and philosophical convictions". In September 2006 the European Court of Human Rights upheld the German ban on homeschooling, stating "parents may not refuse ...[compulsory schooling] on the basis of their convictions", and adding that the right to education "calls for regulation by the State". The European Court took the position that the plaintiffs were the children, not their parents, and declared "children are unable to foresee the consequences of their parents' decision for home education because of their young age.... Schools represent society, and it is in the children’s interest to become part of that society. The parents' right to educate does not go as far as to deprive their children of that experience." The European Court endorsed a "carefully reasoned" decision of the German court concerning "the general interest of society to avoid the emergence of parallel societies based on separate philosophical convictions and the importance of integrating minorities into society."

Good luck to the Romeikes. I know from first-hand experience that the U.S. immigration and asylum courts can be very difficult. My hope for the family, and for the U.S., is that we all will enjoy prolonged freedom. Freedom requires vigilance and conviction, even to the point of risking conviction, and I hope the examples of Germany and — closer to home — California, are educational.

I'm it! I'm it!!!
This is in lieu of Anorex[st]ics Inaneymous, which will be posted later.

I was tagged by the controller of Through The Illusion: the awesomely awesome of awesomeness Hayden Tompkins with the 7 Things meme. I will be tweaking this to make it, '7 Things That May Or May Not Be True About Me' to throw all you stalkers and enemies off. Obviously, you are still sworn to secrecy. That being said, I will continue with the aforementioned meme.

1. If I find that someone has given away any of the secrets I will divulge here in complete confidentiality, I will make it my personal job to hunt you down and unleash my tamed (I guess you could call them cowed) ninja cows upon you. Then I will also have to hunt down the poor fool that you told the secrets to, and erase their memories, or something drastic like that.
Just kidding! (or am I?!?!?!?! Muahahahahahahahahaaaaa!!!!! *Ahem*)

2. I have had my appendix removed. I've found that that operation needs to be done to a few books, as well (especially the ones that have Appendix A, Appendix B, etc etc).

3. I took the crazy test, and the results came out as, 'You are Paranoid Crazy!' But you never would have guessed that.

4. I plan on traveling a lot when I get older. At some point, I'm going to save a lot of money, pack a few things, get into my car, and just drive with no particular destination in mind.

5. I have written a novel, and am working on the sequel.

6. Because I'm feeling an excess of rebellity and a superfluity of naughtiness, I'm only going to tag one person.

7. I tag: Sly the Family Rat. She has just told me she will post later this week.

Okay, there you go. Now you can decide if all was a lie, none was a lie, or if I put down a mixture of both. I hope this drives at least some of you insane (although, for some of you, it's less than a drive and more of a short putt).

Ciao for now!

Monday, March 30, 2009

The Emperor's Groove

It struck me the other day that the modern Disney classic The Emperor's New Groove, is a stunning forecast of the Obama administration, even though it was released at the dawning of the previous administration in 2000.

Now, I don't blog about politics too much because there are so many better bloggers out there with more fire and deeper insights than I, plus my own belief is that there's really not a nickel's worth of difference between the two major parties' ruling credo of "just win, baby." I am a big movie fan, however, and some of the recent political headlines started dovetailing with the great songs and dialog in the movie. Were the Disney studios eerily prescient in their allegorical (not Al-Gore-ical) forecast of an Obama administration, or did I simply spend too many hours in a car this weekend with too little to occupy my mind? You be the judge.

Submitted for your consideration, the following excerpts with President Obama as Emperor Kuzco, Senator Judd Greg as Pacha, Rahm Emanuel as Kronk and a host of "characters" that Obama has thrown under the bus represented by the emporer's ex-advisor, Yzma.

Kuzco's theme song: This was sung by the great Tom Jones, but the cartoon vocalist with his red-blond afro and over-the-top enthusiasm sounds a lot like Chris Matthews to me. Consider these lyrics (think "Big O" instead of "Kuzco"):

He was born and raised to rule
No one has ever been this cool
In a thousand years of aristocracy
An enigma and a mystery
In Meso American History
The quintessence of perfection that is he

He's the sovereign lord of the nation
He's the hippest dude in creation
He's a hep cat in the emperor's new clothes
Years of such selective breeding
Generations have been leading
To this miracle of life that we all know

What's his name?
Kuzco, Kuzco, Kuzco...

He's the sovereign lord of the nation
He's the hippest cat in creation
He's the alpha, the omega, a to z
And this perfect world will spin
Around his every little whim
'Cause this perfect world begins and ends with him

What's his name?
Kuzco, Kuzco, Kuzco...

Weird, huh? Well how about these lines of dialog (real names inserted for cartoon characters):

Pacha/Judd Gregg: Uh-oh.
Kuzco/Obama: Don't tell me. We're about to go over a huge waterfall.
Pacha/Gregg: Yep.
Kuzco/Obama: Sharp rocks at the bottom?
Pacha/Gregg: Most likely.
Kuzco/Obama: Bring it on.

[after the stock market's fallen into the alligator pit]
Kuzco/Obama: Why do we even have that lever?

Kuzco/Obama: Oh, and by the way, you're fired.
Yzma/Rick Wagoner: Fired? W-W-What do you mean, "fired"?
[Kuzco/Obama snaps his finger and a servant comes in and writes down Wagoner's "pink slip"]
Kuzco/Obama: Um, how else can I say it? "You're being let go." "Your department's being downsized." "You're part of an outplacement." "We're going in a different direction." "We're not picking up your option." Take your pick. I got more.

Kronk/Rahm Emanuel: Hey, it doesn't always have to be about you. This poor little guy's had it rough. Seems a talking llama/talk show host gave him a hard time the other day.

Kuzco/Obama voiceover: This is Carville, the emperor's advisor. Living proof that dinosaurs once roamed the Earth.

[Kuzko/Obama collides with an old man/Jim Cramer while dancing]
Kuzco/Obama: D'oh! You threw off my groove!
Palace Guard/Media: I'm sorry, but you've thrown off the Emperor's groove.
[the old man/Cramer is thrown out of the palace window]
Old Man/Cramer: Sooooorry!

Kuzco/Obama: When will you learn that all my ideas are good ones?
Pacha/Gregg: Well, that's funny. Because I thought that you going into the jungle by yourself, being chased by jaguars, lying to me to take you back to the palace were all really bad ideas.
Kuzco/Obama: Oh, yeah. Anything sounds bad when you say it with that attitude.

Pacha/Gregg: Why did I risk my life for a selfish brat like you? I was always taught that there was some good in everyone, but, oh, you proved me wrong.
Kuzco/Obama: Oh, boo-hoo. Now I feel really bad. Bad Obama.

Yzma/Rev. Wright: Why, I practically raised him.
Kronk/Emanuel: Yeah, you'd think he would've turned out better.
Yzma/Rev. Wright: Yeah, go figure.

I don't know about you, but right now I'm scrutinizing Monsters vs. Aliens for predictions of the next election.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Deep theological question...

Road-tripped with the Reverend Mother and Tiger Lilly this weekend, and among the tunes on the car stereo was Marc Cohn's "Silver Thunderbird":

Don't gimme no Buick
Son you must take my word
If there's a God in heaven
He's got a Silver Thunderbird
You can keep your Eldorados
And the foreign car's absurd
Me I wanna go down
In a Silver Thunderbird

Which raises the question, "If God drives a silver Thunderbird, what does the Devil drive?"

I said, "Pinto."

Tiger Lilly: "A Prius."

Enter your suggestions in the comment section.

(Actually, I've always heard that God had a Chrysler, because the Bible says He drove Adam from the garden in his Fury.).

Friday, March 27, 2009

Inheritance taxes
A few years ago when home values were soaring my wife and I refinanced our house, taking out some equity to remodel part of our main floor while locking in a sub-5% fixed rate, 15-year mortgage (we hate paying interest). This was back in the day when you could finance 125 percent of your equity. The amount we needed was substantially less than this, and our loan officer kept trying to interest us in borrowing more. My wife wasn't having any of it (I think this might have been the same loan officer who gushed that our credit score "walks on water"). Frankly, it kind of creeped us out to think about taking on all this extra debt simply because we could, especially for intangibles such as travel or ephermerals that depreciate quickly, such as new cars (both of which were examples of things the loan officer suggested we could spend the extra cash on). Fortunately for us, our instincts were correct.

I think most people have an built-in sense, or skepticism, for those "too good to be true" deals, even if we eventually decide that the deal is "too good to pass up." Then, like the prize trout being reeled in we say, "I knew there was a catch!" It's hard to resist, though, when the rest of the school is jumping in the boat on their own. Most of us have the scars on our lips to show for it.

I think that's why so many people are feeling more than a little queasy about the direction of the economy and the proposed borrowing our way to prosperity budget offered by President Obama. How does it make sense that, if we're in a crisis caused by unchecked borrowing, even more borrowing will get us out? And who are we borrowing from, and what's the vig? Having learned a few things the hard way we tend to push back a little when the salesman says "you've got act by midnight tonight!" At the same time we really want to believe that things aren't really so bad, and it will all work out in the long-run, because to believe otherwise calls into questions all those nice little assumptions that allow us to sleep at night. So when the salesman try to allay our concerns with testimonials "Four out of five socialists prefer..." or say that this the "new and improved deficit, now with less rich people" we kind of say, "What the heck, and, you know, I think my next diet will be the one that works, too!"

"Besides," the salesman says, "It's really not my deficit...I inherited it!" So then we think, "Well, yeah, we've always had deficits, Winston, so what's a little more?" If the Bush administration left us with the equivlent of a budget hangover, perhas a little hair of the dog makes sense. A picture, as they say, is worth a thousand words — and likely a few trillion dollars as well.

As the Washington Post illustrated the other day:


SOURCE: CBO, White House Office of Management and Budget | The Washington Post - March 21, 2009


That's not the Republicans providing that chart, or The Center for the American Experiment, or even Joe the Plumber; it's the Washington Post, using numbers from both the President's office and the ostensibly non-partisan Congressional Budget Office. As sickening as the Bush fiscal record is (and yes, the numbers above do include money spent on Iraq and Afganistan), the current administration plans to take a case of the flu and turn it into Ebola.

As the Heritage Foundation's Brian Riedl points out:


Perhaps someone can graph this for me: now that it's been established that when America sneezes, the rest of the world catches cold, how long before the UN decides that our economy is too important to be left in the hands of Americans and requires global oversight?

HT: Bogus Gold.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

An agenda in search of a weatherman
A couple of weeks ago I was sitting in my warm house, in a comfy chair, just flicking my gloveless fingers over my keyboard and I discovered that the amount of global sea ice was as high as it had been at any time since 1979, according to satellite observations of both the northern and southern hemisphere polar regions monitored by the University of Illinois' Arctic Climate Research Center. Of course, those paying attention will remember that 2008 was the year that some were predicting that the North Pole would melt entirely.

Didn't happen. In fact, there was about 10 percent more ice in August of '08 than there was in August of '07. The last quarter of the year then saw an exceptionally fast and widespread refreeze to reach the 29-year high reported above.

Meanwhile, the Caitlin Arctic Survey team from the UK set out earlier this year to measure for themselves the amount and thickness of the arctic ice, predicting that due to climate change they'd have to swim (using special suits) for as much as 15 percent of the excursion.

Instead, severe weather and extreme cold put the team in danger as re-supply flights had trouble reaching the explorers:

Three global warming researchers stranded in the North Pole by cold weather were holding out hope Wednesday as a fourth plane set off in an attempt deliver them supplies.

The flight took off during a break in bad weather after “brutal” conditions halted three previous attempts to reach the British explorers who said they were nearly out of food, the Agence France-Presse reported.

“We’re hungry, the cold is relentless, our sleeping bags are full of ice,” expedition leader Pen Hadow said in e-mailed statement. “Waiting is almost the worst part of an expedition as we’re in the lap of the weather gods.”

Fortunately, a relief flight did manage to reach the group the other day, but it was touch and go for awhile:

"It's been a pretty grim time waiting for the weather to lift enough to get the plane in. It's no place to just hang around when it's minus 40 degrees [Celsius], but we could not afford to move without our essential kit, food, fuel and batteries for our survey and communications gear," said Hadow, the expedition leader, "All of us are just wanting to get going quickly and have a high calorie meal to fuel ourselves up."

I'm glad to hear that the team is all right for now as only polar bears would truly be happy about the group's predicament. Some of the commenters on the rescue story are upset, however, that fuel-burning, carbon-dioxide-spewing airplanes were used to resupply the expedition. Perhaps relief via a nuclear sub would have been better?
Anorex[st]ics Inaneymous #25
This happened a few nights ago while watching Prince Caspian. It was rather humorous the way she kept scoffing.



Dad was getting on my case about not posting yesterday, but I distinctly recall saying I would try to post every Monday, but it wasn't guaranteed.

Ciao for now.

Monday, March 23, 2009

More taxes on the "lucky"

Are you one of the "95 percent" of Americans promised a tax-cut by President Obama? By all means, keep your fingers crossed and "hope" you get a little taste before pending "changes" in other tax laws and regulations swipe it right back out of your pocket.

A couple of weeks ago I highlighted a move by Congressional Democrats to tax your employer-sponsored health benefits. Today I have a couple more stories that suggest more back-door tax increases on your insurance are in the works.

One of the major features of life insurance and annuities has long been the ability to "build-up" cash values tax-free inside certain types of life polices and within annuities, with income taxes being taken when the funds were withdrawn, presumably in retirement when your income tax bracket is (hopefully) lower. It's a similar mechanism to how a 401k works. Additionally, life insurance death benefits paid to your survivors have also been tax-free. All these tax deferrals act as incentives for consumers to take individual responsibility in planning for retirement and the financial security of one's family.

This is not an strategy reserved only for the wealthy; cash value life insurance policies and annuities are mainstays of middle-class financial planning, while the more affordable term life plans (with no cash build-up) provide an important and accessible safety net for families with common sense but modest means. There are those, however, who love raising taxes every bit as much as they hate the thought of the individual doing anything for himself when the government could be doing it less efficiently. An example on the radar screen is out west where the Oregon State Revenue Committee is claiming that exempting these private funds imposes too much of a burden on the state which currently can't get its hands on that money:

The federal government exempts life and annuity benefits from taxation, but Rep. Chuck Riley, D-Hillsboro, Ore., the sponsor of the Oregon bill, H.B. 2854, has argued that conformity with federal income tax rules is too costly, and that Oregon should tax some kinds of income now excluded from federal taxable income.

If passed as written, the bill would take effect on or after Jan. 1, 2010.

H.B. 2854 was first read March 2. To pass, the bill would need approval by a three-fifths majority.

The National Association for Life Brokerage Agencies, Fairfax, Va., has put out a statement opposing the bill, noting it would tax both the death benefits and earnings on the inside build-up of life insurance and annuities.

This “unfairly targets individuals and families who have taken responsibility for their financial future by preparing for retirement and planning for unforeseen circumstances,” NAILBA says in the statement. “Any changes to the tax system must not limit or disadvantage protection and security products, but rather strengthen them.”

It should be pointed out that "conforming" with the federal regulations doesn't "cost" Oregon anything; it merely keeps money away from them, which really galls those inclined to think that your money (and children) belong to the State. It is also part and parcel of the mindset that, as with the earlier health insurance article, portrays having life insurance as a lucky break and unfair advantage and therefore worthy of confiscation and redistribution. While this particular article refers to Oregon only, if it passes it's not much of a stretch to see other states trying the same thing.

On a related note, there is a recurring movement afoot in the federal government to repeal the McCarran-Ferguson Act which provides a limited anti-trust exemption to the insurance industry. This arises periodically, but now they are using the AIG imbroglio to justify this latest grab (though the connection is tenuous):

Two House Democrats have introduced a bill that would repeal the McCarran-Ferguson Act insurance industry antitrust exemption.

The bill, H.R. 1583, the Insurance Industry Competition Act, would give the U.S. Department of Justice and the Federal Trade Commission the authority to apply antitrust laws to anticompetitive behavior by insurance companies.

The bill would keep the McCarran-Ferguson provision that puts jurisdiction over insurance regulation in the hands of the states.

The bill was introduced by Reps. Gene Taylor, D-Miss., and Peter DeFazio D-Ore.

Taylor and DeFazio have introduced similar bills in earlier Congresses. They say the controversy over bonuses paid to American International Group Inc., New York, employees highlights the need for action on the antitrust issue.

The current insurance industry antitrust exemption gave AIG a free pass to become “too big to fail,” and “now the U.S taxpayers are on the hook to bail them out or risk even further turmoil in an already fragile economy,” Taylor and DeFazio say in a statement. “This legislation would close that exemption.”

Admittedly, McCarran-Ferguson is a rather esoteric issue in a complex environment, and "anti-trust" always sounds like it's in the best interests of the public. What the Act does, however, is allow states to regulate insurance companies operating within their jurisdiction rather than bringing it all under federal oversight. The result, however, is to make the insurance products — both life & health and property & casualty — more affordable. Federalizing insurance regulation would, like the initial efforts at "health-care reform" would strengthen the biggest players while harming or even eliminating the smaller companies, and would result in higher costs for consumers, not lower.

As someone who's worked in marketing and advertising in this industry for a long time I know that I have complained on many occasions about the challenges of working with 50 different state insurance commissions in order to get products and even certain advertising approved. While I've often thought it would be simpler to deal with just one entity I also see how state control benefits consumers.

Politicians have long been masters of saying one thing and doing another; of staging a distraction in the park while the pickpocket goes through the crowd. When you hear the music playing, be sure to look over your shoulder.



Sunday, March 22, 2009

Picture this: Yo, Lumpy

"Take me, mold me,
Use me, fill me,
I give my life into the Potter's hand..."


Singing this song always makes me think of Romans 12:2: And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.

If you take a lump of clay into your hands your tendency is to squeeze it and roll it, perhaps making a little face out of it as you kind of doodle with your fingers. If you picture our lives as a lump of clay introduced into the world we can quickly see how all the outside forces in our lives try to shape and conform us to some image, squeezing and pressing us with things as diverse as fashion or politics or family expectations, or TV commercials, or our schooling. Everything, it seems, seeks to conform us to some earthly standard of what is acceptable, whether it's your friends, your job, your gang, your political party — even your church. How the pressure is applied determines the shape our conformation takes on.

But there's another way to shape clay. A potter can place a lump on a wheel and get the wheel spinning and in doing so begins to bring smoothness and balance to our lump and then, rather than conform, something transforming happens as the potter reaches into the spinning clay and cups his fingers outward, causing the little ball of clay to suddenly bloom outward and expand, displacing clay with air. Depending on the potter's vision, the transformed lump could become a bowl, a pot, a vase or an urn.

Similarly, when our thinking is conformed to the world we are squeezed into something smaller and denser, our minds grooved and compressed by repetition. When we are transformed by allowing our minds to be renewed — to begin to grasp what has previously been beyond our imagination — however, we get bigger and can hold things; rather than being something to look at we become something useful.

The song above describes God as the Potter, and in my analogy you can see God reaching into us, increasing our capacity, making us fit for bigger, better things. Of course, we still have to be fired in the kiln, the trial bringing out our colors while making our final shape stronger (seeking to pull out of the fire too soon, however, and you're left with a fragile, untrustworthy object).

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.
— 2 Corinthians 4:7

Friday, March 20, 2009

Special to Mr. D:

The Lumberjack (perhaps related to Minnesota's Paul Bunyan) feels bad that Wisconsin is getting heat from Intellectual Property-Purists about co-opting the phrase "Live Like You Mean It" to promote the state (apparently, "Wisconsin: Just Say No" didn't test well with the focus group). Setting aside any easy jokes about using Wisconsin and Intellectual Property in the same sentence, here is a sample of the state's new campaign and a couple of alternatives from our favorite wood-cutter. View them all.





Thursday, March 19, 2009

Taxify him!

The EckerNet reminds us, in a long, documented list of Democrat corruption, that former Louisiana Congressman William Jefferson was videotaped receiving a $100,000 bribe from an FBI informant, and a search later turned up $90,000 hidden in his freezer.

I'd almost forgotten about William Jefferson's "cool" $90,000; I guess I've just tuned out all the media talk about it.

Wait a minute — if he took that money from an FBI informant, wouldn't that be federal funds? Isn't it time for Congress to get together and vote to tax Jefferson's greed and arrogance?
Life just got more complicated

My habit when I get to work in the morning is to log on to my computer and, while its doing its thing, make myself a cup of coffee (I brew my own because life is too short and you spend too much of it at work to drink corporate coffee). When I get back to my desk I open Outlook, check for emergencies, then open my web browser and check my blog to see if I received any comments overnight. Then I use my blogroll to hit Day by Day, Shot in the Dark and blogs on my Daily MOB roll (though these keep dwindling). By then the caffeine from my coffee and the browse through the roll has got my heart beating and I'm ready to go to work.

At lunch I'll often start or outline a new blog post, especially if something I read earlier has sparked anything, and save the draft for when I get home. Other times during the day I'll have a free moment and re-visit the morning group or hit some faves in the Night Lights list. It's usually about six o'clock when I've finished responding to work emails and did the things that I'd know I'd forget to do if I waited until the next day to do them and then I'm off for home. Once there I'll have dinner and try to spend some companionable time with whatever family happens to be about and then around 8:30 or so head down to the man-cave to write about whatever struck my fancy during the day. I'm usually up until 11:30 doing that, then it's to bed to get ready to do it all over again.

That all looks as if it's going to change. When I sat down with my coffee this a.m. and hit the bookmark for my blog I got the big Websense message saying access had been blocked. Wha...? I double-checked the URL and refreshed. Definitely blocked because my company now blocks "Forums and Social Media." Carp. Unable to access my blogroll, I tried some back-up bookmarks to other blogs. All blocked. That means that my blog-reading has to wait until I get home, and that means the blog-writing has to wait until I get done reading, and that means....I don't know, it's kind of a scary path to contemplate.

Ok, fine. I know the company owns the computers and the servers and the T1 connection and they pay me really good money to do things that will help it make money. It's not unreasonable that they require my full attention while I'm on the premises, except....except this is the latest in a long line of micro-managing indignities foisted upon my co-workers the last couple of years and it's really getting annoying.

....

....

Ok, I'm back. I just went and deleted about four paragraphs of text detailing the face-slaps visited upon my co-workers and I over the past few years. It's not that I exaggerated anything, or don't think someone has some 'splainin' to do, but I remembered that whining and complaining doesn't really help anything. And yes, I know, in this economy I should be thankful to have a job because, you know, only 9 out of 10 Americans can say that.

All I'm saying is that I've got to find a new rhythm for my blogging life ... and right now I can't predict what that's going to look like.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

AIG agony

I've read emails that tell how the US government once took over the infamous Mustang Ranch brothel in Nevada because of unpaid taxes...and subsequently managed the business into the ground. The moral of the story was if the government can't even make a go of selling sex and whiskey, how does it expect to be the de facto, nationalized owner of banks and insurance companies?

I don't think about brothels much, but the story keeps coming to me as the AIG saga staggers through the never-ending news cycle as the company's executives and new congressional overseers compete to kill the company in the most Darwin-award winning manner. The current bonus brouhaha may merely be the arsenic icing on a cake made with too many cooks. First, it is incredibly dunder-headed to pay bonuses for behavior that put your company — and the economy — into a tailspin. I work in this industry and regardless of what the contracts say, I've not heard of bonuses being paid for screwing up. I do know that the financial services industry is as brand-conscious (if not more-so) as any industry out there and this kind of publicity is like shooting both of your feet off. You could even speculate whether the company would come out ahead in the long run by refusing to pay the bonuses and fighting it out in court even if the eventually had to fulfill the contracts. The perception that they were trying to do the right thing could have been worth hundreds of millions alone — and avoided a congressional coup-de-grace.

Now Congress is shocked — shocked — that gambling is going on, even though it wrote the rules years ago that led AIG into this thicket, then steadfastly refused to do anything to provide oversight, and finally wrote the specific codicil in the bail-out (thank you, Sen. Dodd) that requires companies that take bail-out money to pay scheduled bonuses. Now, to divert the possibility that any blame might come back on them, they're stomping about, beating their paper-thin chests about the evil and greedy company misusing a small fraction of the billion-dollar suppository of tax-payer dollars Congress shoved up you-know-where — apparently forgetting that the U.S. taxpayer now owns that company and this grandstanding is driving the stock-price down to penny-stock status.

What Congress is also forgetting, as it threatens ever-more-onerous regulations, is that the market — thank you very much — has already exacted its sanctions. (Not only in terms of stock-price and public perception; my company has already benefited by AIG's stumbles as both customers and top producers have come over to us).

On top of that, what message does it send to PTSD investor community when the government starts threatening confiscatory taxes based on feelings rather than the rule of law? AIG operated on the assumption that it was "too big to fail" but after the last week I'm beginning to think everyone connected with this circus is too stupid to live.


Update:

When I wrote "too stupid to live" up above I didn't mean it in a "take them out and shoot them" way, but in the extinct Dodo bird way.

I wanted to be clear about that.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Coming home

A convicted would-be bomber and accessory to murder and armed robbery has been paroled from prison in California and is returning to Minnesota.

That may be "so what?" news for folks not from around here but it has been quite a story in Minnesota since 1999 when Kathleen Soliah (now known as Sara Jane Olson), one of the FBI's "most wanted", was found living a politically progressive, upper-middle class life in a toney St. Paul neighborhood. Soliah/Olson, a sympathizer and possible member of the Symbionese Liberation Army (of Patty Hearst fame) in the 70s had disappeared 23 years prior to her arrest following her grand jury indictment for her role in a bank robbery that resulted in the killing of a female bank customer and for participating in two attempts to bomb police cars in retaliation for a police shoot-out that killed many of her SLA friends. During the time she was "missing", she adopted her new identity, married a St. Paul physician, raised a family, performed in several community theater productions and became well-known in activist circles for her support various liberal causes.

Her friends in turn took up her cause after her arrest, with well-known St. Paul office-holders Andy Dawkins and Sandy Pappas especially front and center protesting that she had lived a good life in the intervening years while also introducing the novel "everyone was an anarchist bomb-thrower in those days anyway" defense. Olson, nee Soliah, for her part pretty much denied anything other than being an admirer of the SLA. A lot of people, or at least the media, seemed to be buying it, too but a couple of things happened. One, the government started releasing more details of its case against her. The second thing was 9/11.

Any indulgence or sympathy for youthful, terroristic activities began to dry up, and Olson ultimately accepted (then tried to renege on) a plea bargain on the charges of planting bombs under two California police cars. After she started serving her sentence she was also convicted of the accessory to murder charge, and seven years were added to run concurrently with her original 14-year sentence, to be served in California. A year ago she was just about to be paroled a year early due to a clerical error but this was discovered and corrected and she returned prison. The calendar has now turned, but in the days leading up to her release the respective police unions in California and Minnesota, as well as the governors of the two states, have each insisted that they didn't want her serving her parole anywhere near them. The public statements became a political side-show in a time when there are some real issues to be dealt with. Nevertheless, Kathleen Soliah/Sara Jane Olson is back in Minnesota after serving seven years of her sentence, with three years of parole to come.

Personally, I think I'm ready to call it square.

I didn't sympathize with her story when she was finally captured and I didn't appreciate the local DFL's embrace of her and their attempts to minimize the serious offenses she committed. Nor do I downplay the seriousness of her intent and participation back in the day, or discount that her actions contributed to the death of another mother who will never come home. I was satisfied, however, to see her ultimately convicted and for the political and moral equivalency smokescreens to get hosed down. I also appreciated it when the amount of time she served turned out to be greater than the "two, three years, tops" predicted by the experts at the time she plead.

The fact is, she has done a significant amount of time and absorbed a (justified) amount of public humiliation. Points have been made. Frankly, I don't feel our community is a more dangerous place with her in it, and I don't expect a wave of police bombings or bank robberies even though some of her comments during her trial and incarceration suggest that she still harbors more than a little resentment against "The Man".

The possibility exists that she might become a public figure again due to her infamy, but outside of a small, hard-core group of supporters I don't think she has the credibility or gravitas to be anything better than a distraction at best — and a liability at worst — for any cause or campaign she aligns with.

If she wants to come back here, be with her family, and live a quiet, invisible life, I'm fine with that and I don't have any interest in following her around and I hope she will be left in peace. If she desires a more public platform then the abuse that will likely be heaped on her — as with the time she spent incarcerated — will be something she brought on herself.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Thinking Green

Here's a little recycling in honor of St. Patrick's day — a couple of older posts that I'm re-running here because they fit the occasion. If you weren't reading this blog in 2006 they'll be new to you, and if you were, well, you've probably forgotten and they will seem new to you.

The first is an account of the events surrounding my first college St. Patty's day, celebrated on a campus truly dedicated to the holiday:

I don't think there will ever be a St. Patrick's Day when I don't think about my first semester of college when I enrolled in the Spring term at the University of Missouri-Rolla campus. UMR is mainly an engineering college but it was close to where I lived at the time and a convenient way for me to knock out some general liberal arts credits before transferring to the main Mizzou campus in Columbia.

St. Patrick's "Day" was actually a 10-day party at UMR. The campus was about 90% male then, almost all in grueling engineering classes that seemed to require binge drinking in order to cope. The reason St. Pat is such a big deal at UMR is because he is deemed to be the patron saint of engineers for having driven the snakes from Ireland and thereby creating the first worm drive (engineering humor). The rites and festivities of the season were under the auspices of the St. Pat's Board: upper classmen (some I think were in their 30s) elected by their fraternities, eating clubs and campus organizations. For most of the year their duties seemed to be based around regular "meetings" marked by drinking and carousing. Come March, however, they were especially prominent in their filthy green coats (part of their semi-secret initiation rites) as they enforced the rules and protocols of the holiday (for those familiar with the St. Paul Winter Carnival - especially in the older days - think green Vulcans).

Part of the tradition was that all freshmen males were to have beards in the week or so leading up to St. Pat's, and were to carry shillelaghs (an Irish cudgel). Most people think of shillelaghs as being a bit like walking sticks, but at UMR there were specific requirements: the shillelagh had to be at least two-thirds the height of the student and at least one-third his weight, and it had to be cut from a whole tree with at least some of the roots showing. The punishment for being caught beardless by a Board Member (and they usually traveled in packs of two or more) was to have your face painted green. The penalty for being without your shillelagh was to be thrown into Frisco Pond. Frisco Pond was actually the town's sewage lagoon, but was called Frisco Pond because the St. Pat's Board of 1927 rerouted the Frisco railroad into the pond after one of their meetings. I'm sure it seemed like a good idea to them at the time.

Fortunately I was able to cultivate my first beard, red and wispy as it was, and I cut myself a suitable cudgel. Carrying books and a shillelagh of the stated dimensions was a challenge, and even more so when certain professors wouldn't allow them into class, meaning they had to be stacked in the hallways and guarded because Board members liked nothing better than to snatch unattended shillelaghs and then wait for their rightful owners to appear — followed by a honking procession to Frisco Pond. (I did mention the campus was 90% male and fueled by alcohol, right? During St. Pat's week the campus looked like No Name City from "Paint Your Wagon.")

The reason we carried cudgels was in case a Board member approached you with a rubber snake and demanded that you "kill" it. This generally meant pounding on the snake with your cudgel until the Board member (not you) got tired. I weighed about 170 then; you do the math as to what my shillelagh weighed, minimum. I was fortunate to go largely unnoticed (as unnoticed as a guy carrying a tree can be) through most of this period. This was especially remarkable given that one of my friends from my hometown was on the Board. Toward the end of the week, however, he came up to me in the dining hall. "Red," (for my beard) he said, "I think I see a snake." With chants of "snake! snake! snake!" I was led outside and my "friend" tossed said snake on the ground. It landed, however, in a flower bed. "Freshman! Kill!" was the command. Hoisting my club over my head (and somehow not tipping over backwards) I brought it crashing down onto the hapless rubber creature — and even more hapless plants in the soft earth.

"Hit it again, it's not dead," was the order. I looked down once, then again. "Oh, it's dead, alright," I said. Actually, it would be more accurate to say, "Missing, presumed dead" because the rubber snake was nowhere to be found in the newly-created crater. Rather than wait around for CSI, or the gardener, the small group repaired to the dining hall to toast the success of the mission and I survived the week, the highlight of which was the St. Pat's Parade.

In those days the St. Pat's Board would be out early in the morning with mops and barrels of green paint, painting Pine Street in advance of the parade. High school bands from around the area would march, car dealers would drive demo models with pretty girls in them and various and sundry other parade standards would be present. In particular, however, I remember the Precision Pony Team: a group of students scooting along on empty pony kegs strapped to skateboards with rudimentary heads and yarn tails attached to the kegs. They wove patterns and formations down the street, stopping periodically to lift the tails of their "mounts" and drop handfuls of malted milk balls.

Much like the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, the event culminated in St. Pat (not St. Nick) appearing on the route, riding a manure spreader and attended by his Guard. The duties of the Guard were largely to keep St. Pat vertical (he'd probably been drinking for four days straight) and to bring any fetching lasses from the crowd to St. Pat for a good luck kiss. (I did say the campus was 90% male and fueled by alcohol, didn't I?).

After this particular St. Patrick's Day all the other ones I've experienced have just kind of faded from my memory.

Note: the annual UMR St. Pat's parade and related festivities still go on, but in a much more muted manner. A couple of alchohol-poisoning deaths were a factor (sad and true) to be sure, but I also think it was because some of those Board members finally graduated.

Also in keeping with this sainted day, here's my "Fundamentals in Film" review of the great John Ford and John Wayne classic, The Quiet Man:


Anorex[st]ics Inanymous #24


One of my followers on Twitter is also a webcomicist, and he Twitter'd about this person who is making a webcomic cookbook. I clicked the link and submitted a recipe and this comic, because you had to make a cooking themed comic to enter with your recipe. This felt a little cliched, but I was feeling creatively drained and I couldn't think of anything else to do. Blah!

Ciao for now.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Presenting:
The newest addition to the Night Writer family:

Sly the family rat!!!




Yesterday a friend of ours told us how smart rats are. We had been considering buying a hamster, but changed our minds in favor of a rat. Mom and I went out to Petsmart today and picked up this little beauty.

Dad doesn't even know about her yet. But he'll find out when he reads this post...

Ciao for now!

Friday, March 13, 2009

Night Hens Caught on Camera
The Night Hens at The Black Sheep Coffee Shop. This was transcribed from a series of phone videos.

MD: I'm going to name my son Pandora, so I can always talk about Pandora's Boxers.
TL: You're terrible!!!
RM: What if he wants to wear... briefs?
MD: I won't allow it.
RM: What about....... ... ...
MD: NO! Remember in Shrek 3?
TL: That was Shrek 2. It's a THONG!
MD: And his nose goes woooooooooopp *mimes a growing nose*
RM: What if he wants to wear a loincloth?
TL: Oh yes, a manly... manly... *recording ends*

RM: *saying a crossword clue* Slice of cake.
MD: Yummy!
TL: Dericious.
MD: I looooove cake. I loooove wedding cake.
RM: You love your own wedding cake.
MD: I love cheesecake... for breakfast!
TL: *wiggling the camera* I like bread and butter... I like toast and jam. *turns camera upside down*
MD: *bounces from side to side*
RM: Are you taking a video of us? Upside down? *recording ends*

TL: *Turns camera upside down*
RM and MD: Aaaahhhh!!! *waving arms in the air*
RM: Help! Heeeelp!!!
TL: *turns camera right side up*
RM: Oh, I feel better.
TL: *turns camera to the side*
RM: I'm feeling sick. Eehllllaaaaahh....
MD: This is the best ride ever!
TL: *once again, upside down*
MD: We're upside down!
RM: Are we? Oh. I hadn't noticed.
MD: Okay, that's enough.
TL: Oh, fine. *recording ends*

TL: *recording secretly*
TL: *turns camera upside down... again*
MD: *noticing* ahhh!!!
TL: *right side up*
MD: I... I was upside down... but now I'm better...
TL: She turned me into a newt!!!
MD: *looks aghast* A newt-- *recording ends*

RM: What's an unstressed vowel?
MD: *looks aghast* Regular?
RM: Silent?
TL: Relaxed?
MD: I am silent like the ninja!!!
RM: Relaxed? A relaxed vowel...
TL: Oh... that might not be good...
RM: Drugged? Groggy? Napping! A napping vowel!
MD: Wait... did you say vowel?
RM: Vowel! Yeah! What did you think I said?
MD and TL: *laughing uncontrollably*
TL: *breathlessly* Bowel!
RM: Bowel?! An unstressed bowel... *laughing uncontrollably*
*recording ends*

The Night Hens apologize if your delicate sensibilities were offended in the transcribing of these videos.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

From taxing fortunes to taxing the "fortunate"
In wartime it's common to try to dehumanize the enemy, calling them derogatory names and ascribing vile and fiendish character traits to them to make it easier to hate and, I don't know, drop bombs on them. In class warfare a similar dynamic occurs as it is simply assumed that anyone with any wealth or property could only have gotten it through pure dumb luck (such as inheritance) or by corruption and oppression, thereby justifying the redistribution of their possessions in the interests of being "fair."

Of course, the definition of who the fortunate ones are can change according to the need at hand. The latest brainstorm of the economically illiterate, morally bankrupt yet somehow electable cotton-headed ninnymuggins in control of our government is that the lucky or evil greedos that get their health insurance through their employers (in other words, "people with jobs") are not paying their fair share of taxes for this benefit. According to a recent article in Business Insurance magazine:

Sen. Baucus looking at taxing health benefits
March 03, 2009

WASHINGTON (Reuters)—A senior Senate Democrat said Tuesday he would consider taxing U.S. workers on their employer-sponsored health insurance to help pay for extending coverage to millions of uninsured Americans.

"I think that tax provision should be on the table," said Senate Finance Committee Chairman Max Baucus, who will play a major role in writing the legislation to revamp the U.S. healthcare system as promised by President Barack Obama.

"It's too aggressive. It skews the system," he said of the tax benefit.

Most U.S. workers with health insurance get it through their employers — 160 million of them — although recent surveys have shown that number is declining as businesses try to cope with the rapidly rising cost of insurance.

As a matter of fact, 19% of employers say they plan to drop health benefits, while 38% say they are uncertain they'll be able to provide health benefits 10 years from now. Meanwhile, in the midst of a recession, the government is talking about wanting to essentially raise taxes on people who still have jobs, regardless of what those jobs pay. By the way, let's have a show of hands from everyone who thinks that the premiums you pay for your employer-sponsored health insurance are too low. Apparently being employed makes you one of the "rich" to be targeted by Congress and President Obama's cabinet of tax dodgers and community organizers — the people who have also promised a tax cut to "95%" of the country. Do you get the feeling they might not be very good with numbers?

Yet in another article about "Mad Max" Baucus and his cronies, the Washington Post reports:

In recent weeks, however, Sen. Max Baucus (D-Mont.), chairman of the tax-writing Finance Committee, has repeatedly advocated changing tax laws to include employer benefits, arguing that it makes sense to fund the health-care changes by sucking cash out of the existing system. Meanwhile, 13 other senators — from both sides of the aisle — have signed on to a plan for universal coverage that includes a tax on employer-provided benefits.

"I think it's extremely important from a credibility standpoint to show the American people that you're making savings in the enormous sums now being spent on health care before you go out and ask them for billions of dollars more," said Sen. Ron Wyden (D-Ore.), one of the sponsors of that proposal. "And I don't think I'm the only senator who feels that way."

What? How do you translate taking money out of the pockets of working Americans by making them pay more for their health insurance as "making savings"? Credibility is, indeed, a problem. Perhaps we'll find out how big a problem that is when the Obama administration weighs in, as the Post further reports:

So far, administration officials have been careful not to endorse the idea, which Obama blasted as a major tax increase last year after Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) made it the centerpiece of his presidential campaign's health plan. But the president hasn't slammed the door on it, either.

This week, White House budget director Peter Orszag said taxing employer benefits was among several ideas that "most firmly should remain on the table." White House economic adviser Jason Furman called for an end to the so-called "employer exclusion" before he joined the administration. Meanwhile, some congressional Democrats say the White House has signaled that Obama would accept a tax on employer benefits as long as he didn't have to propose it himself.

Riiight. Congress passes the tax increase and President Obama merely comes in at the end and says it's "an imperfect bill" but something he has to sign anyway. It's almost enough to make you wonder how much of a grasp on reality our leaders have, and if they've ever had to enroll in a group health plan in recent years when employers are passing more and more of the costs on to employees. And then there's this:

Many economists and tax analysts have long argued for changing current tax law on health coverage, which disproportionately benefits wealthier workers. The law encourages people to enroll in the most comprehensive health plans on offer, the so-called Cadillac plans that provide vast coverage, mask the true cost of health care and contribute to skyrocketing costs.

I don't know about your job, but my benefit enrollment forms certainly don't encourage me to select the most comprehensive, or "Cadillac" plans offering "vast" coverage. As a matter of fact, I've chosen high deductible plans with an Health Savings Account (HSA) option the past several years to save money. Further, the so-called Cadillac plans aren't driven by consumer demand, but by state and federal government mandates that require additional coverage (and wait until you see the effects of the Mental Health Parity bill that was recently signed). If consumers were allowed to pick and choose the coverages they actually need the costs would go down. Somehow, however, once the money is on the table there's no way to get it back in your pocket.

Many lobbyists and others involved in the health-care debate say they see few other places to go for the kind of money that will be needed to meet Obama's demand for ambitious change. In their view, the question is not whether employer benefits will be taxed but how much of the benefit will be spared.

My personal opinion is that taxing employee benefits is not really intended to raise money for health care. It's meant to make the current system even more dysfunctional in the hopes that employers will be even more anxious to get out of the system and the public will desperately embrace change — specifically, universal health care.

I'm actually in favor of getting employers out of the business of proving health insurance...but I want to do it by dumping the whole third-party-payer model that is the main reason health care continues to skyrocket, and universal (aka "single-payer") health care does nothing to relieve that problem while simultaneously reducing the standard of care as I and others have pointed out before. Let's not forget that the reason we got into this health care predicament in the first place was because of government interference via wage and price controls in World War II that led employers to offer health insurance benefits as a way of attracting a limited pool of workers. That opened the door to the wasteful and expensive third-party-payer system we currently have, the inefficiencies of which can only be outdone by a government-run system.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

42 and 57, or "Let's see who rusts first"


Today's the birthday of the man who, along with the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail, is responsible for most of the catch-phrases in my vocabulary. As noted by The Writer's Almanac:

It's the birthday of the man who said, "Any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with." That was science fiction writer Douglas Adams, born in Cambridge, England (1952), the author of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The series begins with the main character, Arthur Dent, lying on the ground in front of bulldozers that are about to demolish his house to make room for a highway. His friend Ford Prefect shows up and explains to Arthur that he, Ford, is actually from another planet; and that Arthur doesn't need to worry about his house getting demolished because Earth itself is about to be demolished to make room for an interstellar highway. Ford and Arthur hitchhike on a spaceship and begin their adventures through the galaxy.

I first heard of The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy in 1979 when some co-worker's had a bootleg copy of the BBC's original radio-play. I later ended up buying four of the five books in the HHGTTG "trilogy", video-taping the Beeb's technically awful television version and dozing through the big-bucks movie version a couple of years ago. I wouldn't reccommend Adams for spiritual guidance (re Oolon Colluphid's trilogy of philosophical blockbusters Where God Went Wrong, Some More of God's Greatest Mistakes and Who is this God Person Anyway?) but just the other day I found myself saying, "Pleased to be of service" and, in the comment section of another blog, typing "Flying is the knack of learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss." Other common expressions one is apt to hear around me are, "Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so"; "This is obviously some new usage of the word 'safe' (or whatever word fits the moment) that I previously wasn't aware of"; "Mostly harmless"; "It will all end in tears, I just know it"; along with random references to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal, Slartibartfast and of course, the classic, "42!"

57. That's how old Adams' would have been today if he were still alive.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

It Is A Betrayal Of The Worst Kind
Duct Tape. It has failed me. Horrendously.

I have an old drawing book (not quite full of drawings) that was falling apart from use. I relied on duct tape to at least keep the spine partially intact (I figured, 'Duct Tape. Good for everything. Holds the universe together'). But, lo and behold, just a few minutes ago, while unleashing my inner snobby artist, I heard a sort of rip-pop noise, and the spine of my book was rent in twain. Alas, oh woe is me!!!!

Anyway, just thought I'd let you in on that little snippet of my life. Ciao for now.

PS: I baked cookies!!!

Monday, March 9, 2009

Well I've never been to Spain...
...but that may be about to change. Over the weekend My wife, Tiger Lilly and I applied to be accepted into the Pueblo Ingles program to help Spaniards learn to speak English. Pueblo Ingles is an organization that sets up week-long English immersion training for Spanish-speakers eager to perfect their English for business and social purposes. All we have to do is provide our own transportation to and from Madrid and any personal travel we want to do before or after the program. Otherwise the program provides all meals and accommodations during the week plus transportation from Madrid to the village where the instruction takes place. Oh, and we have to swear not to speak a word of Spanish while we're there!

This afternoon I received an email enthusiastically accepting me into one of the weeks, and we're hoping that the Reverend Mother's and Tiger Lilly's acceptance will be coming soon — I won't go without them! Our program would run from July 24th through 31st and would take place in the village of Valdelavilla, which is described as follows:

Valdelavilla is a small town in the highlands of Soria, just south of the wine-producing region of La Rioja. It dates back to the 18th century but it was reconstructed as a rural tourist complex after it was abandoned in the 1960's for demographic reasons. It is considered as one of the best-preserved natural sites in Spain with unique architectural and landscaping characteristics, a rich abundance of flora and fauna, and a quite magical atmosphere.

The village is nestled in a valley and even in its heyday, its population probably never surpassed 30 families. It has rustic feel to it with twelve traditional stone-walled houses, cobblestone streets and plenty of exposed brick and timber. Open countryside and beautiful panoramic views complete the quaint atmosphere and make this venue a favourite for volunteers who want that "authentic Spanish experience", and "to get away from it all". Valdelavilla arguably represents Pueblo Ingles in its rawest form.

Ok, so it's not exactly five-star accommodations (other Pueblo Ingles venues are more polished) but the site sounds beautiful and we can book more stylish quarters when we're back in Madrid after the program is finished and we continue our vacation. The images I've found of Valdelavilla show buildings and scenery very similar to the part of Tuscany where we stayed a couple of years ago (and loved).

The Rev. Mum discovered the program through an article in the Strib a few weeks ago. The Spanish-speakers pay to participate, but the Anglos are comped (a word I'll likely have to explain to the "students"). It's not exactly a free ride, however, as we'll spend several hours each day speaking English with the students in a variety of business and social setting, including telephone conversations, and the evenings are spent doing skits and enjoying long (and late) suppers — and talking, talking, talking (a challenge for me, I know). We're encouraged to talk about anything and everything in order to help the Spaniards acclimate to idioms and cultural nuances. I'm sure it will be tiring, but at the same time we'll be learning a lot about Spain and the lives of the people we're talking to and it should be very educational. Perhaps we'll even pick up some very useful details to make the rest of our trip even more interesting!

All in all it sounds like a great way to see a new country and learn about other ways of life — all while helping other people. What can be better than that?
Anorex[st]ics Inaneymous #23


Ciao for now.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Fighting with Tiger Lilly

I cashed in some of my Best Buy Reward Zone points recently and picked up a couple of classic Xbox games — Halo and Halo 2. Tiger Lilly and I enjoy gaming together and these games have been a lot of fun. I can't help but notice some differences in our styles of combat, however.

For example, in my other gaming I typically play the WWII "Brothers in Arms" series. These games pride themselves on being realistic, so there are no health packs and "level ups" to be found. As such, I've learned to move carefully and to peek around corners to keep myself and my squad alive and it's a hard habit to break. TL on the other hand goes charging off in the direction of enemies as soon as they pop up on the tactical display, typically wreaking carnage with an occasional, "Whoops, I died." Her eyes and reflexes are also sharper than mine, so as she's blowing Covenant and Flood to pieces she's also scooping up useful debris before I even see it. "Cool — a rocket launcher!" or "Whoa, sentinel beam!" are usually my first clue that valuable items arewere for the picking.

She's also liable to run out of the range of my HUD so that I lose track of her in a melee. My most common utterance when we're playing is, "Okay, now where are you?" This usually results in her making her character (and its green overhead triangle) jump up and down until I can draw a bead on her. Either that or I simply follow the trail of body parts she's left in her wake. Nevertheless, we're getting pretty good at working in tandem, flanking enemies and alerting the other when we're throwing a plasma grenade, and she hardly ever runs in front of my sniper rifle any more.

It does feel a little odd serving as wingman for a 15-year-old, and I suppose there are more edifying things I could be doing with her other than burning a few hours a week saving humankind. I figure it doesn't hurt, though, to let her know I've got her back. And that — wingman or not — I am the Master Chief.

Turning on the Gino signal
Gino, here are a 24 to 50 more reasons to come to Minnesota for the wedding...


Pet Pigs Go Hog Wild in Western Minnesota
Officials recently discovered that pot-bellied pigs — a southeast Asian species imported to the United States, often as pets — have been roaming wild and apparently reproducing for the past few years. The pigs could number 25 to 50, and the first ones either escaped captivity or were illegally released into the wild.

"It's just really, really bad news,'' said Steve Merchant of the Department of Natural Resources. "They can be very destructive to native plants and wildlife habitat, and they carry diseases that can affect wildlife and livestock. We're definitely concerned. We want to get them out of there.''
...
Pot-bellied pigs can grow to 300 pounds. Vacek said the carcass of one pig he examined probably weighed 90 to 100 pounds. It was a boar with 4-inch tusks.

Come out a few days early and maybe you can help us save some money on the reception menu!



Friday, March 6, 2009

Send us your tired, your hungry, your huddled polar bears
Satellite photos show Lake Superior nearly iced-over on March 3, 2009.


Image from N.O.A.A.


Reportedly, this phenomenon happens about every 20-30 years. Another source reports that global floating sea ice levels this year are as high as they were in 1979, using data and a chart from the University of Illinois' Arctic Climate Research Center:

Rapid growth spurt leaves amount of ice at levels seen 29 years ago.

Thanks to a rapid rebound in recent months, global sea ice levels now equal those seen 29 years ago, when the year 1979 also drew to a close.

Ice levels had been tracking lower throughout much of 2008, but rapidly recovered in the last quarter. In fact, the rate of increase from September onward is the fastest rate of change on record, either upwards or downwards.

The data is being reported by the University of Illinois's Arctic Climate Research Center, and is derived from satellite observations of the Northern and Southern hemisphere polar regions.

"Thanks to a rapid rebound in recent months." You've got to give President Obama credit; he said he'd stop global warming and he has!

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

The Depths of the Night
I was combing through my blog archives earlier looking for a study that I've previously cited because I want to use it in another post that I'm working on. In the process I came across a short piece that I wrote here back in 2005, my first year of blogging. It seemed especially appropriate for the present day when so many people appear to have so much to worry about. I'm re-running it here in the hope that it might help someone find a little peace and comfort.

A Beast in the Night

It's two a.m. and the beast slides in under the bedroom door while I'm sleeping, a darkness deeper than the dark. I feel his weight as he sits on my chest and the tingling sensation of the tips of his talons as he takes my head and turns it slightly to face him. "Let's talk," he hisses.

This implies conversation, but it is one-sided. Doom seems to be the theme, oppression the objective, but I'm not paying too much attention to specifics as I sort through and catalog the degrees of my awareness. The house is quiet and still. No strange lights from outside, no smell of smoke through the screened windows. My wife rests peacefully beside me. There is just this...thing, hunkering down, pressing on my thorax. My breathing seems shallow; does it have to be? I fill my lungs several times, deeply. Breathing is good, the weight remains. I experimentally try shifting my position.

"Ah-ah," says the beast, "does it hurt when I do this?"

Actually, no, nothing hurts. I easily move my arm and place my hand below my collarbone. The river courses deep and wide and steady beneath my fingertips in a familiar rhythm. My skin is cool and dry and yet I know the beast has found something, deep within. A tiny flame of fear, like a pilot light, and now he breathes on it and his very breath is combustible - the flame roars, seeking more fuel, wanting to consume me. In the light of day I hardly notice the steady but small flame; now in the dark every flicker seems to cast an ominous shadow. This is beyond reason, but reason I must: there is money in the bank, we are whole, the jobs are good, the basement will be dry again. I am fine and no weapon formed against us will prosper.

The beast is unimpressed, and answers each thought with a "But..." of his own, his own butt and haunches squeezing against my ribs. The debate goes on quietly for an hour. I should get up. I should get some water. I should change the scenery, but I feel trapped. "Yes...trapped," the beast says, "trapped, trapped, trapped." This is going nowhere. Reason is not sufficient, and argument is ineffective. If he won't listen to me, then I won't listen to him. I deliberately turn my mind to the old songs, the songs of deliverance and praise, I repeat them to myself, sometimes running verses together or in different order, simply using what comes to mind, from another pilot light, a garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness, replacing fear with power, strength and a sound mind.

The darkness in the room changes perceptibly. It's nowhere near dawn, but it seems lighter somehow. Peace returns, if sleep does not. At 4:00 a.m. I'm aware that my wife is awake, lying quietly in the dark. I speak softly, "Are you awake?"

"Yes. Why are you?"

I tell her what happened. She draws closer, hooks one of her legs over one of mine, her arm brushes the last traces of the beast from my chest.

"I'm feeling better," I say.

This also reminds me of something else that I've written here before, a quote from Edwin Louis Cole: "Fear is the belief that something I cannot see will come to pass. Faith is the belief that something I cannot see will come to pass."

Which will you choose to believe?

I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I will trust."...You shall not
be afraid of the terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day, nor of the pestilence
that walks in darkness, nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday.

— Psalm 91: 2, 5-6


Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Wasting away again in an Obama-ville

Obama: It's a Good Time to Buy Stocks

President Obama said Tuesday that now is a good time for investors to buy stocks if they focus on the big picture.

The Dow plunged Monday to its lowest level in 12 years.

"What you're now seeing is a profit and earnings ratios get to the point that buying stocks is a good thing if you have a long-term perspective on it," he said to reporters after meeting in the Oval Office with visiting British Prime Minister Gordon Brown.

That sounds very familiar. Let's access the ol' mental jukebox....ah, yes, Fred Waring and Pennsylvanians from 1932 with an Irving Berlin song called "Let's Have Another Cup of Coffee":

Just around the corner,
There's a rainbow in the sky,
So let's have another cup of coffee,
And let's have another piece of pie.

Trouble's like a bubble,
And the clouds will soon roll by,
So let's have another cup of coffee,
And let's have another piece of pie.

Let a smile be your umbrella,
For it's just an April shower,
Even John D. Rockefeller
Is looking for the silver lining!

Mr. Herbert Hoover
Says that now's the time to buy,

So let's have another cup of coffee,
And let's have another piece of pie!


Back in the 1930s the shanty-towns of homeless people were called Hoovervilles. Perhaps tomorrow they'll be called Obama-villes, or maybe just "affordable housing."

Monday, March 2, 2009

Hello, Americans — and good-bye to a legend

Bob Greene is a master, and writer who's style influenced my early days. He's done a number of tributes over the years, but none have been better than the one he just offered to Paul Harvey who passed away Saturday at the age of 90:

I've never been one to attend the performances of symphony orchestras, but off and on, for more than 35 years, I gave myself the gift of something even better:

I would go and sit with Paul Harvey as he broadcast his radio show.

It was music; it was thrilling. I met him in the early 1970s, when I was a young newspaper reporter in Chicago, and that's when he allowed me, for the first time, to sit silently in his studio as he did his work. Over the years, whenever I felt a need for a Paul Harvey fix, he was always welcoming, and we came to know each other well. I would sit there wordlessly and observe absolute excellence.

He would invariably be wearing a smock when I arrived -- he had been working since well before the sun came up, and the smock would cover his shirt and tie. It was the kind of smock a jeweler might wear, or a watchmaker -- it was crisply pressed, the uniform of an expert craftsman. I never asked him why he wore it, but I suspect that was the reason -- pride in craftsmanship.

He would be at the typewriter, honing his script. He was famed for his voice, but the writing itself was so beautiful -- his respect for words, his understanding of the potency of economy, his instinct for removing the superfluous. The world heard him speak, but the world never saw him write, and I think he honored both aspects of his skill equally.
...
And then the signal from the booth, and. . .

"Hello, Americans! This is Paul Harvey! Stand by. . . for news!"

And he would look down at those words that had come out of his typewriter minutes before -- some of them underlined to remind him to punch them hard -- and they became something grander than ink on paper, they became the song, the Paul Harvey symphony. He would allow me to sit right with him in the little room -- he never made me watch from behind the glass -- and there were moments, when his phrases, his word choices, were so perfect -- flawlessly written, flawlessly delivered -- that I just wanted to stand up and cheer.

But of course I never did any such thing -- in Paul Harvey's studio, if you felt a tickle in your throat you would begin to panic, because you knew that if you so much as coughed it would go out over the air into cities and towns all across the continent -- so there were never any cheers. The impulse was always there, though -- when he would drop one of those famous Paul Harvey pauses into the middle of a sentence, letting it linger, proving once again the power of pure silence, the tease of anticipation, you just wanted to applaud for his mastery of his life's work.

He probably wouldn't have thought of himself this way, but he was the ultimate singer-songwriter. He wrote the lyrics. And then he went onto his stage and performed them. The cadences that came out of his fingertips at the typewriter were designed to be translated by one voice -- his voice -- and he did it every working day for more than half a century: did it so well that he became a part of the very atmosphere, an element of the American air.

Read the whole thing to get the "rest of the story" about an American legend. Good day!

Anorex[st]ics Inaneymous #22


To the people who have asked for bigger type: I have enlarged as much as I had room for. I hope it's enough.

Ciao for now.