Wind In The Wire

Generic politically-correct festive greetings!

2011-12-24T14:27:00.002-06:00

To all readers of this blog:

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, our best wishes to you and your family for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

Furthermore, we wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2012, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great, (not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country or is the only "America" in the western hemisphere), and without regard to the race, creed, color, age, gender, physical ability, religious faith, choice of computer platform, or sexual preference of the wishee.

In conclusion, please select one or more of the following based on your religion, ethnicity, or other personal preference:

▢ Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

▢ Happy Holidays

▢ Seasons Greetings

▢ Happy Kwanzaa

▢ Happy Hanukkah

▢ Cheery Saturnalia

▢ Pleasant Boxing Day

▢ Joyeux Noelle

▢ Feliz Navidad y Prospero Año Nuevo

▢ Май у вас долгую счастливуюжизнь и, не дай Бог, ваши зубы не должны выпадать.
(May you live a long happy life and, God willing, your teeth should not fall out.)

Sincerely,
Mr. Toast

Easing my way back in

2011-12-15T13:40:00.006-06:00

Well, well, well. What have we here...is this really a new post? I hope I actually remember how to use this thing, considering this is only the second time in 2011 I've actually tried to write something. No apologies, no excuses -- I just haven't done squat with this blog in a very long time, but my early "new year's resolution" for 2012 is to start getting back into some sort of regular posting schedule. Seeing as how next year will be a political freak show/firestorm of epic proportion as we head into the November elections, I should have lots to write about as I've got some pretty strong feelings about the candidates and issues involved. But, I will try to not make it all about politics, though, as that can get boring pretty quickly for anyone who is already tired of the non-stop bickering and sniping that has characterized the political scene for the last three years, especially since the field of Republican contenders has coalesced into its present lineup.

Speaking of, if you've watched any of the various GOP debates, you know what an absurd spectacle they've been so far as each participant tries to show off their conservative cred and prove that they alone deserve to carry the party standard against Obama. For me, it's been at turns hilarious and horrifying to watch, as I consider the thought that one of these clowns might actually, possibly, be the next president of the United States. Good grief.

My own personal view is that since the current process is long on entertainment and short on actual content, we should turn the nomination process into an actual reality show. Start with all the declared candidates, including Jon Huntsman and the lesser-known Buddy Roemer and Gary Johnson. Then, every week at a designated time, say Thursday night at 7 PM, have an moderated debate and allow the audience to vote via phone or internet. At the end of the show, the candidate with the least votes is "chopped", and is sent packing off Republican island. Eliminate one candidate each week this way until you get down to the final choice. This can't be any more ludicrous than the way it's being done n now.

But in my opinion, the whole system is flawed to begin with. Money controls the entire process from beginning to end, with big-buck corporate lobbyists determining who gets nominated, elected, as well as what measures they support and enact once they're in office. This was very well expressed recently in the following article written by Steve Van Zandt, who you may know best as lead guitarist for Bruce Springsteen's E-Street Band as well as his portrayal of Silvio Dante in The Sopranos. Now, you might be inclined to dismiss the political views of a musician/actor, but Little Steven makes some very good points in his piece, entitled "There is Only One Issue In America". Check it out:

I was obsessed with politics in the ’80s. I’ve recovered and I’m feeling much better now thank you.

By the time I realized, as interesting as it was, I’d better stop this stuff and try to earn a living, I had discovered many of our social problems and quality of life issues could be traced to the same political source: our corrupt-by-definition electoral system. The solution to the problem was as easy to discover as the cause: The elimination of all private finance in the electoral process.

I was working doing most of my research in the area of our foreign policy since WWll, whatever fell under the umbrella of international liberation politics, but I examined and analyzed a fair amount of local issues as well.

I wanted to know how things work? Where’s the power? Who’s pulling the strings?

The economy of the world came down to the unholy trinity of guns, drugs and gasoline — military industry, drugs (legal and illegal), and energy — and now I would add agribusiness as the fourth controlling commodity, and always with the enabling bankers never too far out of sight making their profits far too often from wars and slave labor.

While that readily explained the suffering of the Third World, it didn’t immediately answer why in America it was possible for so many people to be unhappy with our government’s decisions, both foreign and domestic, when we’re supposedly living in a democracy.

A quick analysis of our electoral process revealed the obvious answer. The simple fact is we do not live in a democracy. Certainly not the kind our Founding Fathers intended. We live in a corporate dictatorship represented by, and beholden to, no single human being you can reason with or hold responsible for anything.

The corporation has but one obligation, which is to increase profits for its shareholders by any legal means necessary by the next fiscal quarter.

They have no moral, patriotic, social, environmental, generational or even sustainable responsibility. They have only a short-term economic mandate and their only responsibility to society is to stay within the law to accomplish it.

This doesn’t mean corporations shouldn’t exist or even that their directors are evil by their very DNA. It has been a legally acceptable basic flaw in the form of our capitalist system that allows corporations to operate without a moral compass or obligation to society — but that’s a discussion for another day.

The law is rarely a problem because the corporations’ legal obligations are pretty much designed first and foremost for their maximum profit by the legislation created by the legislators belonging to our two national political parties, both of which are wholly bought, sold and controlled by Wall Street. The banks and the corporations. In other words the game is rigged. Feel like a sucker? We all do because we all are.

The manipulation, aided by a very willing media also owned by the corporations, has made things easier beginning with what has become the amazing Orwellian staple of every newscast, selling the public on the lie that the Dow has somehow become America’s scoreboard!

We’re all hypnotized, rooting for them like they’re our home team at a football game, cheering for THEIR scoreboard mindlessly forgetting WE’RE THE AWAY TEAM!!

You think your congressman is working all day to get you a job? He may want to. He or she is probably not a bad person. They probably want to do the right thing. But they can’t. Long-time Capitol Hill staff and campaign strategists tell me the average legislator spends one-third of their time (or more) every day raising money or on activities related to raising money.

Yes, they are “elected” which creates the mass delusion of democracy to keep the masses from rioting, but congressional races are costing millions of dollars and some Senate seats are going for tens of millions each, and they’re predicting well over one billion dollars for the next presidency.

That’s some democracy we’ve created there, isn’t it?

Of the people?

By the people?

For the people?

What people?

Democracy in America is a sick joke and the masses aren’t laughing anymore.

Yes, we can demonstrate. We can march. We can write and sign petitions to our Representatives. We can occupy.

And we should because it’s healthy to vent, and we don’t feel so all alone. But the truth is, other than the value of venting, we’re wasting our time. It is naïve to expect political results from any of these activities.

Our representative can give us lip service. A lot of sympathy. Empathy even. But we don’t pay their media bills, gabeesh?

We need to eliminate all private finance from the electoral process.

And let’s not be distracted by “reforms.” Let’s spare ourselves the unnecessary discussions about transparent disclosure, or the conflict of interest of foreign countries buying favorable treatment, or protection after protection being gutted by dangerously diluted regulations, or trying to impose this limit or that limit, etc., etc., etc.

Campaign finance doesn’t need reform. It needs elimination.

To accomplish this we must overturn Buckley v. Valeo, one of the two or three worst decisions in the history of the Supreme Court.

The ruling makes the extraordinary decision that money is protected by the First Amendment.

Presumably Chief Justice Gordon Gekko presiding!

These smartest guys in the room actually decided that spending money is the equivalent of free speech. You might wonder why no one in that smart room stood up and said wait a minute, if money is speech, isn’t lack of money lack of speech?

You know, as in the rich get to talk, and the poor don’t? How are the non-moneyed classes represented by this decision?

I guess nobody stood up then, but it’s time to stand up now.

In fact, I am now introducing a new pledge to be signed by our legislators. Of both parties. Indies too. Everybody’s welcome.

THE PLEDGE FOR A DEMOCRATIC AMERICA

(We’ll need someone more educated than me to draw it up, or we can copy Grover Norquist’s anti-tax pledge, but it would go something like this.)

I, The Undersigned, pledge to overturn Buckley v. Valeo and eliminate all private finance from the electoral process, thusly restoring America to its democratic principles. I may take corporate, PAC, SuperPAC, or Chinese money to get elected or reelected (martyrdom accomplishes nothing), but upon my election I will make campaign finance elimination one of my immediate top priorities.

Now somebody should be starting a new Third Party whose platform is dedicated to this one idea. Twenty-five years ago that’s what I’d be doing right now.

But the need for a Third Party aside, this idea applies for everyone. Just as much for the Tea Party on the right as the 99 Percenters on the left (the corporate oligarchy actually has no Party affiliation, it just looks Republican).

Both groups should adopt this issue. The Occupiers need not agree on anything else, because frankly nothing else matters, and a bit more focus on the root of our problems for the Tea Party certainly wouldn’t hurt them either.

Let’s see who’s serious about representing the “people.”

And you know what?

We might be pleasantly surprised at how many congressmen and senators sign this thing who would rather be doing something more dignified with their lives than spending half their time begging for money.

Well, Steve has some good thoughts to leave you with so that's all for this time out of the gate. Hopefully more posts will be appearing here soon. I'm just starting to get fired up again.

My Annual Blog Post

2011-02-25T12:21:00.003-06:00

Good Lord, has it really been a year since I've updated this thing?? Oh well, c'est la vie. If anybody is still out there, you may be glad to know that I'm still alive and doing relatively OK, my lung condition continues status quo -- which is good news. I've been putting considerable time and energy into my online radio station, Star 98, and have a brand-spankin' new web page that I constructed for it using Drupal, a heavy-duty content management system. Drupal has a very steep learning slope that I've barely ascended to the first level of, but I'm slowly getting the hang of it and it is quite powerful. Hopefully I may have more to say over here in the weeks/months to come. Things are beginning to warm up for the 2012 elections, and if you're familiar with any of my earlier posts you know this gets my blood pumping and I may have something to say about our dear friends in the Tea Party, as well as my favorite political figure. So check back occasionally, things might get interesting. Bye for now!

More Mardi Gras fun

2010-02-16T15:31:00.006-06:00

Happy Fat Tuesday, folks. It's a sad sign that posting here at WitW has sucked serious wind lately, as you can scroll not very far down this page and see 2009's Mardi Gras entry, for Pete's sake. That aside, once again the good folks at Sutherland's Hardware have come up with a sure-fire way for us East Texans to celebrate the festive occasion. Last year it was hog panels and barbed wire. And what do they have for us this year?

Yep, chain saws. Hey, do we know how to party or what?

Snow foolin'

2010-02-12T17:16:00.005-06:00

Much of East Texas is virtually immobilized by a snow storm that dumped about 4" or more of the white stuff on us overnight. Schools and businesses are closed, and many folks are without power today. You folks up north will no doubt be unimpressed by these photos taken in and around our yard early this morning, but realize this sort of thing hardly ever happens down here. We get snow maybe once every other year or so, and even that is usually a light dusting that melts as soon as it hits the ground. To get this sort of accumulation is very, very rare -- and in fact this is the most snowfall I've seen in my nearly 30 years of living in Texas.

Still working on a comeback

2010-01-18T00:24:00.004-06:00

But in the meantime, just because we've been gone a while doesn't mean we haven't been keeping up with the various internet memes out there...

Yeah, Toast!

2010-01-14T19:13:00.002-06:00

This is just too strange for words. So, naturally, I was compelled to post it:

Happy New Year

2010-01-07T02:58:00.001-06:00

Still here, just in case anyone was wondering....

Good times, Texas-style

2009-03-02T20:45:00.001-06:00

Last week was "Fat Tuesday", the traditional day before Ash Wednesday when Mardi Gras is celebrated in many places around the world. And how does Sutherland's Hardware apparently believe we observe the day down here in Texas?

Why, with hogs and high-tensile barb wire, of course! Laissez les bon temps rouler!!

Blatant ripoff

2009-02-19T17:02:00.003-06:00

Much to my chagrin, the creative drought continues over here at Chez Toast. So until I can come up with some decent original material, I am reduced to ripping off other people's blog entries and reposting them. That's right, I have no shame, people.

Today's unwilling victim of my plagiarism has long been one of my favorite reads, The Dictionary of Unfortunate Ideas, from whom I steal the following brilliant summation of the latest episode in the Terminator series, Terminator Salvation (due for release on May 21st), as well as the entire T-franchise:

The studio is marketing it as a sequel AND a prequel, but really it's just the simple tale of a boy named John Connor who grows up, goes back in time, grows old, tells his younger self to send his best friend back in time so he can be his father, sends a terminator back in time to protect himself, forgets to warn the terminator that he went back in time, sends his mother back in time to lecture herself about her cheesy wardrobe, and then goes back in time again to remind himself where he left his favorite Clay Aiken album all those years ago.

Then, he sends his younger self back in time to send his even younger self forward in time to obtain DNA to clone himself and start the whole process over again. It's really a very simple story.

Of course, one more of these Terminator sequel/prequels and I'll be looking for a way to send myself back in time to warn James Cameron to change the script to have the kid's mom snuff it in the first film. That'll save each of us about fifty dollars.

The movie stars Christian Bale, who recently made big news by going apeshit with a profane tirade aimed at his director of photography for accidentally wandering onto the T4 set. Check out this parody of the incident starring Stephen Colbert and some obscure comedian whose name escapes me. Funny stuff.

Piece of my heart

2009-02-14T12:58:00.000-06:00

Anyone who's been here for a while knows that I'm not exactly a big fan of Valentine's Day. I think it's crass commercialism to set aside one day to commemorate love, romance, and relationships -- something which should be done every day of the year. Instead of pleasantly surprising someone you care about, the day creates a gifting expectation, implying that you don't really love your partner unless you give them a card, flowers, candy, a cute stuffed animal, or something similar. Worse, Valentine's Day makes many single people feel abnormal, lonely, and ostracized if they don't (or choose not to) have a "valentine" in their life.

Therefore, I was amused to recently find this song while doing a Google search on the holiday:

I Hate Valentine's Day
by Jewel

Valentine's Day
Wish I had a sweetheart
It's Valentine's Day
Didn't even get a stinkin' card
It's Valentine's Day
I just have to say
I hate Valentine's Day

It's Valentine's Day
And I didn't get no chocolate
It's Valentine's Day
If I had a heart I'd hock it
It's Valentine's Day
All I have to say
I hate Valentine's Day

It's Valentine's Day
And I hope it finds you healthy
It's Valentine's Day
I'm glad your stinkin' girlfriend's wealthy
It's Valentine's Day
I just love to say
I hate fuckin' Valentine's Day

Awwww...isn't that sweet?

Anyway, for this particular Valentine's Day, Mrs. Toast and I have chosen to compromise. Since we've been married for (mumble mumble)-something years, we're no longer exactly heavy-breathing romantics, but we do like to at least acknowledge our relationship. So we've decided to share a heart-shaped pizza from our local Papa Murphy's (which, BTW, I think the Janis Joplin song would make a perfect advertisement for) tonight for dinner, and then snug in at home with a movie on DVD.

You know you've got it, if it makes you feel good.

The end of an error

2009-01-20T09:49:00.002-06:00

It's the dawning of a new day, and as I watch today's historic events with awe I want to say not just "God bless America" but "God bless planet Earth." I feel cautiously optimistic that after the blunders and hubris of the past eight years, this nation is finally about to step forward as a global partner to begin finding solutions to some of the many problems that we all face together.

Yes, we can.

Shattered illusions

2009-01-09T09:32:00.001-06:00

One of the reasons we moved to this small town from the Big City was because we were sick of crime. Our apartment in Houston was broken into twice, and the second time the mofo's got thousands of dollars worth of electronics and recording equipment, including my cherished vintage Gibson Les Paul sunburst guitar. It was irreplaceable, and I literally cried for weeks after it was stolen.

But for nearly the last twenty years now, we've lived in a community where everyone respects their neighbor's property, where you can go out during the day leaving your doors and windows unlocked, secure in the knowledge that no low-life scumbag is going to enter your home and take your shit.

Or so we thought, until yesterday.

I frequently nap during the day; with no fixed work schedule since I've been disabled, my sleeping/waking hours tend to get totally out of whack at times, and I often stay up until 4 or 5 AM, grabbing a few zz's during the afternoon to compensate before Mrs. Toast comes home about 5 PM. So I was deep in dreamland about 2 or 3-ish yesterday afternoon when I was jarred only semi-awake by the ring of the front doorbell. Since I was expecting a UPS delivery, I assumed they would just leave the package on the front porch like they usually did, and drifted back to sleep.

When I got up about an hour later and walked into the living room, I was quite surprised to notice that one of our front windows was wide open without the usual screen in place, and all three cats were missing. Since we never let them go outdoors, this freaked me out and my first priority was to find them and get them back inside. Fortunately, they had not wandered far and I was able to gather them up fairly quickly. The next thing was to try and figure out how the window got open. That's when I noticed my wallet (which had been on the kitchen table) was gone, along with my mp3 player and a couple of other small items.

I wish I could describe the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I realized that someone, apparently thinking that the unanswered doorbell indicated that no one was home, had entered my house while I was sleeping, grabbed a few items, perhaps even looked in on me in the bedroom to realize there was someone there after all, then quickly got the hell out. This probably explains why more stuff was not taken, including this very laptop I am now typing on (which, sitting in plain sight, would have been a major catastrophe), as well as our stereo system and new TV. Indeed, the police officer who took the burglary report said I should consider myself lucky, as if I had happened to come out and confront the perp(s) in the act, I could have gotten hurt, or worse. As it was, I only lost a modest amount of cash and will have the hassle of having to cancel all my credit cards, get new drivers license and medical insurance cards, etc. Things could have been much worse.

But the purpose of this post is not so much to bitch and moan, but rather to attempt to make lemonade out of lemons. So lest you think it couldn't happen to you, as I did, let me pass on a few tips (learned the hard way!) that may save you some grief later on down the line:

1. Make photocopies of every credit card or whatever else you carry in your wallet or purse, or digital pictures of them, or at the very least write down the card numbers along with the customer service contacts for each. First of all, if something happens, you will know exactly what was lost. Also, the police will want to include in their report the full 16-digit numbers of any cards that were taken, and most statements these days (whether online or paper) include only the last four digits of your card numbers for security. I found it can take a crowbar to pry your own full credit card number from customer service. With Discover, it wasn't until a 2nd-level supervisor had me put the police officer on the phone that she would divulge the numbers. Keep these paper copies in a safe place, and keep them updated regularly as your cards expire and are replaced.

2. Inventory your home electronics and other valuables. Take a picture (and record the make, model and serial number) of every TV set, radio, stereo, portable mp3 player, camera, and everything else you own. Again, knowing exactly what you have can be invaluable if any of it is lost. If you have homeowners insurance, most companies will not process a claim without detailed information about the item, including serial numbers.

3. Password-protect your computer, both with a Windows logon password, and also individually encrypt any particularly private data you may have on your hard drive. It may seem like a hassle to enter your password every time you start up, but you will be glad you did if your laptop should fall into the wrong hands. If you want to go the extra mile, consider using tracking software that silently "phones home" via the internet to a monitoring service if the user doesn't enter a secret keystroke combination within a minute or so after booting up. While this is a bit extreme for most people, it can pinpoint the location of a stolen laptop and might be worthwhile if you travel a lot or have really sensitive data on your machine.

4. Use a master-password program that keeps all your logon information for various websites you use in a protected database. You might want to keep this file on a removable USB thumb drive for added security. This is particularly important if you use internet banking, pay bills online, or use other web-based financial services. Then, you only have to enter one single password (which should be second nature to you so you won't forget it, yet difficult for any stranger to guess, and never, never written down anywhere) to access all of your private information. It goes without saying that you should also have a full, current backup of your computer hard drive. Many people fail to do this because it's a task that's, quite frankly, a pain in the ass. But it's cheap insurance and can save you days or weeks of frustration, not just in the event your computer is lost or stolen, but in case of hardware failure (like a drive crash) as well.

5. Consider some sort of basic intrusion alarm for your home. High-end, monitored systems are not cheap, but the peace of mind can be worth it. Some advanced systems have stealth cameras that record any suspicious activity inside or outside your home. Not everyone needs this level of protection, and good quality unmonitored do-it-yourself alarms with wireless door and window switches and infrared motion sensors can be had for around $200-250. (We're getting one of these soon.) At the very least, consider a motion detector that reacts with the sound of a barking dog. These devices scan through walls and doors and will sound off if someone gets within about 20 feet of them. The police officer told me that these are crude but fairly effective, as thieves are generally spooked by any kind of dog, and won't stick around long enough to determine if the barking is real or fake. Of course, if you already have a real dog, so much the better ... but robo-dogs don't require feeding, walking, or poop-scooping.

Needless to say I am very freaked out by this, on several levels. For one thing, I am angry at myself for my naivety, thinking that this could never happen to me. It happens to everyone, everywhere at some time or another, and not being prepared or at least aware of the danger, is simply foolish. There will be no more leaving windows open or doors unlocked here, which is something I never thought twice about before just laying down for a siesta. Of course I'm also mad as hell at whoever did this, but I'm also getting chills at the thought that some creep was skulking around my living room while I was sleeping just a few feet away. The peace of mind I used to have, that comfortable feeling of being safe and secure in my own home, has been severely battered and may take some time to recover.

Come to the dark side, we have cookies

2009-01-02T22:23:00.004-06:00

Hope everyone had a great holiday and that 2009 has gotten off to a good start for you. Here in Toasterville, our main source of excitement and entertainment has been to watch a lot of movies recently, some of them on the new TV set that Santa left under our tree. The beginning of the new year traditionally is a favorite time for pessimists to come out of the woodwork predicting the end of the world, and our movie choices this week have to some degree reflected that. How would you like your cataclysm served up? If you think the end will come in the form of an environmental catastrophe, we've seen "An Inconvenient Truth", and "The Happening" (OMG, watch out! Killer trees!), while fans of the ever-popular alien invasion scenario might prefer 1996's "Independence Day", or perhaps even the tepid new remake of the 1951 classic "The Day The Earth Stood Still", starring Keanu Reeves as an interstellar harbinger of global destruction who looks, speaks, and acts curiously like Neo from The Matrix.

The new year is also sparking major awareness and interest in the prophesies of Nostradamus and the ancient Mayans, whose Mesoamerican Long Count Calendar seems to suggest that doomsday will arrive on a very specific date. According to many, the end of life as we know it will occur on December 21, 2012. These theorists believe that the Earth will experience unprecedented disasters ranging from massive earthquakes and tsunamis to nuclear reactor meltdowns. Of course, people have been aware of these predictions for some time now, but as we turn one calendar year closer to the actual date, the hype is really beginning to take off. Go to the official website, add your name to the "Believers List" and get your End Of The World T-Shirt! Or, you might be interested in this book which includes handy checklists of survival supplies you might need. (Tip: don't forget batteries.) For those who like their gloom and doom in nice, easy to digest hour-long bite-size chunks, The History Channel's Armageddon Week not only presents a special about 2012 under the banner of "Hindsight is 20/20; foresight is 2012", but also throws in The Seven Deadly Sins for good measure.

The fact that world events have been somewhat dire of late is no doubt contributing to the ominous tone. The environment continues to deteriorate; we face global warming and other natural disasters like hurricanes and earthquakes, the economic crisis is showing no signs of letting up, and the recent escalation of tensions in the Middle East plays directly to the fears of conservative religious types who believe that the region will be Ground Zero for the coming End Times.

But I'm not going to worry about any of that now, because ... we have a new TV set! Woo-hoo! Happy New Year, people!

Coasting through the holidays

2008-12-17T16:30:00.001-06:00

I would like to thank those of you who have recently inquired about my well-being, both by email and in the comments. I am, indeed, still here and doing OK, although one would be justifiably hard-pressed to make that determination based on my lack of posting lately. I've had creative droughts before, but this one appears to be a humdinger. It's no doubt the double-whammy of my typical "holiday blues" which has dogged me most of my life, combined with the simple fact that things around here have been utterly boring and un-blogworthy for the last month or two.

During times like these, I recall when I was 22 years old and freshly out of college. I had only a vague idea of what to do with my life at that point; I knew I wanted to be in the entertainment business -- radio, TV, music, or some other kind of media -- but at the time two words that would have best described my attitude were "apathetic" and "clueless". On an extended visit to see my older sister in New York City, her husband Norman, who was then a well-respected Broadway producer with little sympathy for those with the ability but not the motivation to give their best performance, sat me down at the kitchen table for a lecture which included these words of wisdom I will remember for the rest of my life:

"Mr. Toast, it's time to get your ass in gear," he thundered. OK, he used my real name, but you get the idea.

Ever since then, when I feel like I am stalling out I remember Norman's exasperation. Having dealt with creative yet finicky people every single day, he knew I had more fire in the belly if I would just get up off my lazy ass and apply myself. He was right, and I do.

Just not this week.

So, since we appear to be on cruise control until my ass gets back in gear, let me do what any other creative type does when they're out of new material: recycle my old shit.

Mr. Toast's Mail-Order Holiday Catalog Selection

Mr. Toast's Holiday Gift Guide Part 1

Mr. Toast's Holiday Gift Guide Part 2

Hopefully the unbridled hilarity of these posts will tide you over until I can come up with something original after I'm feeling more enthusiastic and spontaneous. And that will be soon, I promise.

Because any day above ground is a good day.

On giving thanks

2008-11-26T14:00:00.006-06:00

It's the day before Thanksgiving, and I'd like to write something poignant and profound about how thankful I am to still be alive, considering that five years ago after being told I had a terminal lung illness, I would not have given you good odds on the possibility of my being here to write this today. Or how I'm thankful (and quite amazed!) that after a long and divisive election process, we're witnessing a transition of power practically unheard of in the history of American politics: the president and president-elect acting like co-presidents, consulting and cooperating on the day's biggest crises, that gives me great hope for the future of our country. Or how I'm thankful for all my online friends here, and how I wish y'all a wonderful weekend with your families and loved ones.

But I'm having a hard time latching onto the Thanksgiving holiday in a meaningful way that doesn't sound clichéd, so instead let me submit a guest commentary from someone who uses words much better than I do: Leonard Pitts, Jr. of The Miami Herald.

Because it's not just about turkey, apple pie and football. Happy Thanksgiving, folks.

###

I was crammed into a middle seat. The guy in front was practically in my lap, and I had my arms drawn in tightly as I pecked furiously on the keyboard. God glanced over. "What are you working on?" He asked.

"A column," I said. "About you, in fact."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? What did I do now?"

"Well, not you per se," I admitted. "It's about this atheist group, the American Humanist Association. They stirred up folks in Washington, D.C., recently by running a billboard on the buses. It said, 'Why believe in a god?'"

God was curious, so I passed Him the computer. Just then, the plane lurched violently. The guy next to me spilled his drink and muttered a curse. God paid no attention. When He finished reading, He passed the computer back. "That's not about me," He said. "It's about defending their right to free speech."

"Sure," I said. "What else would I do?"

God shrugged. "Why not just answer their question?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well you know," He said, "you've got that Thanksgiving holiday coming. Might be appropriate to remind people of whom they're thankful to."

I considered it. "That could be a good idea," I said.

He gave me a look. "OK, OK," I said, "all your ideas are good. But you know, proving you exist is a heavy-duty philosophical chore. I suppose I could go with the complexity-of-life argument, talk about how if people see something as unremarkable as a cardboard box they assume it had a maker, but if they see something as intricately designed as a person -- or heck, an amoeba -- some folks say, Oh, it just...happened."

God was unimpressed. "I don't need you to prove I exist," He said. "I am the great I am, remember? Besides, that billboard doesn't ask for proof of my existence. It asks, why believe? Isn't that a fair question?" He gave me an expectant look.

I looked past Him, out the window. We floated above a deck of clouds, the sun falling toward the horizon, the whole world the color of gold. It was like poetry in midair. I said, "I believe because I've seen you. And because I've heard you."

The plane jolted again. Two rows behind, a baby started shrieking, hitting notes I'd have sworn were impossible for a human larynx. The man ahead of me shifted heavily in his seat. My tray table pressed hard against my stomach.

God gave a smile that I couldn't read.

"It's not all poetry in the sky," He said. "Where you see poetry, somebody else sees only a flaming ball of gas circling the earth, light refracted through crystals of ice and pollution in the air. Where you see eternity, someone else sees an ocean. Where you hear my voice, someone else hears thunder."

"What are you getting at?" I asked.

"What do you see then?" He said. "What do you hear when no one else sees or hears? When you walk in places where no one knows your name? When you curse the brokenness of your own life? When flood and famine strike the wretched and the vulnerable? When the diagnosis is cancer? Do you see me then? Do you hear me then?"

It took me a moment. "Sometimes," I said finally. "Not always." I thought about it a second, then added: "But I'm always trying."

"Why?" asked God.

I looked past Him. The sun seemed to be sinking into the clouds. The sky was growing dark. "Because nothing else makes sense to me," I said.

God smiled.

The captain announced that we were about to land. We were asked to shut down and stow our electrical equipment. The guy in front returned his seat to its full upright and locked position. The baby kept squalling. Moments later, the plane touched the tarmac. It had been an awful flight, and I was glad to be home.

"Thank God," I whispered.

"You're welcome," He said.

Musings of an entry-level life form

2008-11-18T23:47:00.003-06:00

I've always enjoyed watching Boston Legal, for many reasons; the characters (especially William Shatner as Denny Crane) are quirky and memorable, I love seeing the exterior shots of the Boston area where I grew up, and the writing is in-fucking-credible. David E. Kelly loves to rip story lines right from the headlines, and isn't afraid to skewer the likes of Big Tobacco or the pharmaceutical industry, or take on other ethical challenges like assisted suicide or neglect of military veterans -- all in a very "theater of the absurd" sort of way.

I also like that the show often espouses an unapologetically liberal point of view, and this week's episode was a classic: it featured former Saturday Night Live star Cheri Oteri as a woman fired by her boss for voting for John McCain -- not, as her boss claimed, due to her political views, but because this fact demonstrated that she was an idiot and therefore too stupid to work for him. (As you might imagine, this plot has rankled the living shit out of the right, which only makes me enjoy it more.)

In his presentation to the judge, James Spader as attorney Alan Shore makes the following argument (emphasis added):

The unassailable right to vote is the core principle of any democracy. And people have the right to cast their ballot for whomever they want– for good reasons or for bad reasons or for no reason at all. Let’s face it, your honor, we as a nation are horribly uninformed when it comes to politics ... today our news programs consist solely of sensational headlines and sound bites. People forgo newspapers for the internet, where instead of relying on credentialed journalists, they turn to these bloggers – sort of entry-level life-forms that intellectually have yet to emerge from the primordial ooze. This is how we’ve gotten the elected officials we’ve gotten.

Well.

I think I ... er ... kinda like that.

As you may know, this is the show's fifth and last season, and in fact production on the big two-hour finale was just completed last week, followed by a bittersweet wrap party Saturday night at LA's Cicada Restaurant. (Oh, to have been a fly on that wall.) I'll miss the show, but just like my other favorite legal drama "Law And Order", I'm sure it will be around in reruns for quite a while still. Let me close with a tribute to some of the show's best moments, set to a Matchbox Twenty soundtrack.

Then I'm going to go have a cigar and a scotch on the patio, and climb back into the primordial ooze.

PS: If anyone's keeping score, this entry is the 500th post since I began the blog just over three years ago. Yay me!

Breaking News

2008-11-06T10:01:00.001-06:00

DEMOCRATS STUNNED BY FAILURE TO BLOW ELECTION

On Tuesday night, just minutes after their party's longstanding tradition of losing elections lay in tatters on the ground, millions of shell-shocked Democrats stared at their television screens in disbelief, asking themselves what went right.

For Democrats, who have become accustomed to their party blowing an election even when it seemed like a sure thing, the results were a bitter pill to swallow.

The head-shaking and finger-pointing over the demise of the Democrats' losing streak, which many of the party faithful had worn like a badge of honor, reached all the way to the upper echelons of the Democratic National Committee.

"Believe me, I'm as shocked by these results as anybody," said DNC chief Howard Dean, who indicated he has received hundreds of calls from incredulous party members. "We did everything in our power to screw this thing up."

Dean pointed to several key elements the Democrats put in place to ensure defeat, ranging from "a rancorous primary campaign" to "the appointment of me."

"Somehow, despite our best efforts to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, we won," he said. "I came in here with a mandate to blow this thing and I didn't get it done."

Carol Foyler, a lifelong Democrat who owns a loom supply store in Portland, Maine, said she has been "nearly catatonic" since the election results were announced. "For the past eight years, I've fixed myself some herbal tea, turned on NPR, and ranted about the Republicans," she said. "All that has been taken from me."

Elsewhere, Sen. John McCain offered this comment on Sen. Barack Obama's victory: "My friends, I've got him just where I want him."

Source: The Borowitz Report

America Fuck Yeah

2008-11-05T10:02:00.003-06:00

I love this country.

Now what?

2008-11-04T12:56:00.002-06:00

My God, is it over yet? After countless months of campaign rhetoric, it all comes down to today: by the time you read this, chances are very good that Barack Obama will have been officially elected the 44th president of the United States. And it won't be just a narrow victory that the Republicans can steal (again) with their dirty tricks and armies of lawyers; I say it will be a freakin' landslide -- what Newsweek's Markos Moulitsas calls "the utter rejection of conservative ideology." After eight years of dwelling in darkness, folks like me can finally come out of the closet and once again breathe the sweet, fresh air in a nation where "liberal" is no longer a dirty word.

OK, so what happens next?

76 days from today when he is inaugurated, President Obama will assume the most challenging job that has probably faced any individual in modern times, and expectations for his performance are sky-high. Between the battered economy and a huge deficit at home, two wars that have stretched our armed forces perilously thin, the rise of terrorism and a decline in America's global image coupled with a changing power dynamic abroad, the man is going to have his work cut out for him. The pressures will be enormous and he could stumble, which would no doubt delight his naysayers. Thankfully, however, he will not have to deal with these issues in isolation; a crisis tends to mobilize people and bring them together, and he will have the best and brightest minds in the country available to help solve our many problems.

But for the first time in years, today I have optimism as I look forward from this historic moment. It's finally time for the change and reform we have hoped for, time to end the arrogance and deceit of the Bush administration. As diplomat Richard N. Haass puts it, "My reading of things is that the American people are ready to be leveled with."

Let the leveling begin.

I can see clearly now

2008-10-17T23:57:00.000-05:00

We've been back from our Colorado vacation for a week now, and what's the first thing that any average, normal, red-blooded American typically says when returning from a 2,500 mile road trip? They say "I think I'll ask someone to cut a slit in my eyeball, insert a probe to liquefy a portion of it with sonic waves, and then suck it out with a straw," of course.

What?

You mean everyone doesn't say this? It's just me? Hmmmmm, OK. I always knew I was a bit, er, different. In any case, I had cataract surgery on Monday and all has gone well so far. I confess that I was a bit nervous when the procedure (called "phacoemulsification") was first explained to me, but it's been performed on millions of people and was quick and totally painless. In fact, it took them longer to set up for it than the actual operation itself. This perception was no doubt also due in part to the wonderful drugs I was given; I recall looking up from the table as a guy appeared over me saying "Hi there! I'm your anesthesiologist!" in what seemed like a curiously way too chipper tone of voice, and the next thing I knew, it was all over and I was being handed a cookie and a carton of orange juice.

The difference in my eyesight has been dramatic. I've gone without glasses all week for the first time in perhaps 40 years, and although there's still another cataract in my left eye that will need to be removed eventually (one of the many negative side effects of the prednisone I take for my IPF), it's not nearly as bad as the one I had done this week, and my doc thinks I should wait perhaps another year or so. It will take some getting used to, as my vision is now asymmetrical: the "new" eye sees 20-20 at distance but not as sharp close-up, while the "old" eye does just the opposite. However, the doc tells me my brain will learn to compensate for this by shifting most of the work of seeing to whichever eye is better focused on the particular task at hand as required.

No glasses ... what a concept!

Top of the world

2008-10-10T15:27:00.003-05:00

I wasn't sure I could do it, but here I am standing at the top of Lobo Overlook, about a thousand feet above the summit of Wolf Creek Pass. (Note the screen grab at right from the van's GPS-enabled onboard road atlas software, elevation 11,800 ft.) In comparison to the snow and sleet on the pass during the trip over, the weather has turned beautiful so we decided another drive up the mountain was in order since we got gypped out of the nice views we had hoped for originally. This time, we were not disappointed (click pic for a much larger view):

We were lucky to reach this spot; the dirt road leading up to it from the top of Wolf Creek is impassible after the first heavy snowfall each year, and was already a bit dicey in places, having already taken a good hit from the storm we slogged through a week earlier. But I was thrilled to take in the indescribable view from the top, one I thought a few years ago I might never see again. And, as an extra bonus, we were treated by a visit from several Gray Jays, also called "camp robbers" due to their extremely bold, almost tame behavior around humans; they will take food offered to them right from your hand:

The birds have developed these habits (which are completely abnormal to most wild creatures) because they live at extreme high altitudes where food sources are scarce. Thus, they are very aggressive and will take food anywhere they can find it, including handouts from passing tourists. On one of our Colorado trips several years ago, I was stunned to first encounter a flock of camp robbers on a lunch stop on Slumgullion Pass as they swooped down out of the trees to alight on my head, shoulders, and outstretched arms and hands. I thought it was one of the most amazing things I had ever experienced, and was absolutely delighted to have it happen again. Nature can be pretty damn incredible, I must say. :-)

Back in Pagosa Springs, before heading back to Texas we had to stop by the spot that was almost our home many years ago. The in-laws owned a 40-acre parcel of land a ways out of town, and had set aside this portion of it for us to build on when the "time was right" and we could afford it:

Unfortunately however, the time never was "right"; back then, there was no possible way we could have afforded to quit our jobs in Houston and move to Pagosa, let alone shoulder the cost of constructing a home there. (There were other concerns as well, including the lack of practical access to water and utilities, which may be one reason why no one has built anything on the site to this day.) But while we never drew up anything formal, I had visions (and even rough floor plans) of our perfect "log cabin", complete with wrap-around decking and a 2nd-floor recording studio loft. The best part of all was that this would be the view from our front window:

Now that's inspiration! Alas, it's a dream that will remain unfulfilled, as the in-laws had to sell the land to pay medical bills as they got older and their health started failing. But I could still look at that spot today and see our house in my mind. It's beautiful, folks. You should come up sometime.

On a more upbeat note, Mrs. Toast's brother still lives in Pagosa and we had a fine time visiting him. Although the view from his deck doesn't quite rival the view from our fantasy home, it's still not too shabby:

Finally, in case you can't get enough Colorado scenery, here's a slide show of some other photos from our trip. That's it from the Rockies, see you back in Texas!

Drivin' along in my automobile

2008-10-06T12:34:00.003-05:00

It's been an interesting week so far, so come along on a virtual road trip as we slog through flat, boring Kansas and finally arrive in the Mile High City.

I'll have more to write later about my visit with the doctors there, but for now let me just tell you that things at the hospital went very well, and we also enjoyed some fine food and drink while in town. Thanks, SupaCoo ... and Pete says hi. :-)

One thing I've always thought about Denver is that while it's a fine city (as cities in general go), other than the occasional glimpse of an outline of mountains through the haze in the distance it doesn't really feel a whole lot like Colorado to me. But once we headed south, that changed quickly and the scenery became fantastic.

And just in case we had any doubt where we were:

I wasn't sure how my compromised lungs would react to the altitude, but I was able to handle ten thousand feet with a smile (sort of).

The weather, which had been gorgeous so far, took a turn for the worse as we got further south approaching the San Juans, and I could tell by the clouds on the mountain that we might be in for a bit of nastiness going over Wolf Creek Pass.

Sure enough, the clouds turned into sprinkles, then a steady rain by Del Norte. By the time we got about halfway up the mountain, it had turned into slushy sleet, and we crawled over the top of the pass in a full-blown blizzard under nearly whiteout conditions. Fortunately, I had not forgotten my winter-driving skills learned long ago in Massachusetts, and kept up a slow, steady pace, following the ruts of the vehicle in front of me in low gear and staying off the brake. (The fact that our van is front-wheel drive helped a lot.) I'm sorry we don't have any photos of this portion of the trip to share with you, as I was kind of focused on trying not to drive off the side of the road, and Mrs. Toast had a white-knuckle grip on the chicken bar for most of the way. It was an adventure, for sure.

But fortunately we made it down off Wolf Creek and into Pagosa Springs alive, and yesterday morning got this gorgeous photo of the snow-capped mountain peak.

We'll be here for a couple of more days before heading back to Texas. I'm definitely noticing the 7,200' altitude here, and getting out of breath much more easily just by walking short distances. My O2 saturation is dropping considerably lower, too -- down to 77-80% at times, whereas it hardly ever dips below 90% back home. I just need to take it slow and easy, though, and I should be OK. It's worth it; this is most definitely a Rocky Mountain High!

We're in Kansas, Toto!

2008-09-30T21:01:00.000-05:00

As in the Sunflower State, the Heartland, the country's breadbasket, Tornado Alley, Mid-America; more specifically, Salina, Kansas, a mere 100 miles from the geographical center of the United States.

We are paused here overnight in the middle of what seems like endless miles of high plains and wheat fields, at the crossroads of Interstates 135 and 70 as we make our way towards Denver on a road trip that is equal parts vacation and madcap medical adventure. The primary reason for this journey is so that I can be re-evaluated at National Jewish Health, the #1 respiratory hospital and research center in the United States, and possibly the world (the name is a bit misleading, as the facility treats patients of any religion, creed, or nationality).

I first visited National Jewish in 2003; at that time I had just been diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis by my local doctor, and was having difficulty accepting that this pronouncement indicated I had, statistically speaking, perhaps another two to five years left to live. Generally, the typical reaction most people have upon being informed that they have a terminal illness largely follows the five stages of grief: first comes shock, then denial and anger. I managed to experience all three simultaneously, it seemed; not only was I stunned and in disbelief, but man, I was pissed. How dare my doctor tell me that, and WTF does he know, anyway? I decided that he must be wrong, and became determined to be seen by the best professionals in the field, hoping that their greater knowledge would enable them to give me more favorable news. Alas, after a week in Denver being subjected to virtually every medical test known to modern science (and one or two possibly left over from medieval times), they essentially confirmed the diagnosis and counseled me that I should consider getting a lung transplant as soon as possible and also, as the saying euphemistically goes, "get my affairs in order", just in case.

This was not exactly the encouragement I had been seeking, but it did confirm the reality of the situation so that I could mentally move past the initial three stages into the next phase ... the dark, smothering, cold and clammy embrace of depression.

Ha ha! I kid. Mostly.

But a funny thing happened on the way to my funeral. Just as I reached the final stage of "acceptance" and began to be OK with it, I started getting better! Whoa! That wasn't supposed to happen, according to the experts. IPF is by definition a progressively degenerative condition, and while the decline may be slow, or (in many cases, unfortunately) horribly rapid, it's nevertheless an elevator that only goes in one direction: down. That my lung capacity went from 78% in 2001 to 55% in 2003 to an all-time low of 44% in 2004 ... and then climbed back to 50% in 2005, peaking at close to 60% in early 2006 (where it has hovered with only minor variation since then), is extraordinary. Something unusual is definitely going on with me, and my doctors at home are not exactly sure what to make of it. So when the folks at NJH called a few months ago to see how I was doing, I jumped at their suggestion that I might want to return to Denver for a five-year followup. Again, we're not sure what additional light they can shed on my situation, but I figure it couldn't hurt to be examined by and consult with the best pulmonary physicians in the country.

So we're on our way to Colorado, spending tonight in Kansas, which extensive scientific research has revealed really is flatter than a pancake. We've laid down about 620 miles today, and have another 430 or so to go tomorrow. I'll have two days of medical tests and doctor visits later this week, then we'll have a free day to explore the sights of the Mile-High City and take in some local flavor, which has come highly recommended by blogger buddy and former Denver resident Supacoo. And like any self-respecting librarian on vacation, Mrs. Toast wants to visit some big-city bookstores. After that, we'll be heading south to beautiful Pagosa Springs, the former home of the in-laws where we spent many a fine Rocky Mountain vacation in years past. Mrs. Toast's brother (whom we haven't seen in several years) still lives there, so we plan to hang out with him for a few days before heading back to Texas. I'm not sure how I'll do with the altitude. Breathing is difficult enough for me at sea level, and Pagosa's 7,200' elevation may be a real challenge. En route from Denver, we'll cross legendary Wolf Creek Pass (elevation 10,800') which should be interesting. I'll be crankin' up my oxygen on that portion of the drive, for sure.

More exciting news, and photos, will follow in this space shortly ... hopefully more scenic than this one:

Damn that Spam

2008-09-26T00:42:00.002-05:00

I swear, these e-mail scams just keep getting worse. Take a look at this one; how stupid do they think I am?

###

Good day American taxpayer, compliments of the season to YOu. Please allow me to introduce myself I am Mr. Henry PAULSON very high official of United States Treasury of United States, Washington, USA. I please to be writing you this day because someone of our mutual acquaintance Mr. BERNANKE vouch for you as trustworthy and gullible individual of high moral standards.

Through no fault of my own I am come to hard straits and although I am a proud man and father, I must beseech your partnership in resolution, an urgent and vexing matter. Through malfeasance and rascality, certain individuals of my close acquaintance have sabotage national banking system, hence an imminent disaster will befall if I am unable to secure the amount of $700,000,000,000 DOLLARS U.S with all utmost haste. This amount is currently being held by millions of fellow Americans but thus far these scoundrels refuse to release the money to me on grounds of that it is not mine infact.

Therefore I must, find a partner who can assist in the collection of this funds with, advance fee of $179.99 DOLLARS U.S a nominal amount I am sure you will agree.

After funds of $700,000,000,000 DOLLARS U.S I will forward informations regarding fully protection of all funds, liabilities, equities and other such financial aspects. For now I must ask you to simply place your trust in me as you would a brother, for, are we, all not brothers?

I pray, that this message find it in your heart, to enter in partnership with me in interest of forestalling disastrous circumstance. Should you prefer not to assist me, with funds, I shall direct my I.R.S agents to procure the funds anyway from you, this voluntarily way is more amenable, as fate wills it.

Your friend everlasting,

Mr. Herny PAULSON
United STATES Treasure

Source: Woot

Ix-nay on the Alin-pay

2008-09-22T01:15:00.000-05:00

I've decided to give the Sarah Palin thing a rest, and hereby declare a hiatus on future posting about her at least until the election is over. For one thing, I think it's safe to say that by now regular readers of this blog (both of you!) know full well my opinions on this subject; I've re-read my last few posts and I'm beginning to sound a bit like a broken record. Besides, I'm not really serving up anything new or original, and anyone really interested in the finer nuances of Palin-tology can find much more thoughtful and well-written journals elsewhere to better suit your own personal tastes. If you're a tinfoil-hat-wearing loony-lefty-liberal barking moonbat like I am, the articles at The Huffington Post will have you nodding in agreement. On the other hand, if you're a far-right evangelistic neo-con wingnut, you'll be positively orgasmic over the rants of Michelle Malkin. In either case, this is a time for serious thought and important decisions, and I don't need to be adding to the background noise.

But not only that, we're beginning to see some hopeful evidence that the bloom may be off the Palin rose, so perhaps my work here is done. Barack Obama has recaptured the lead in the polls after the Republicans' post-convention bounce, and donations to his campaign are surging in response to Palin. She was an unknown, spunky, photogenic novelty who energized the contest when she was first introduced, but as voters have gotten to know her in the last month, they are increasingly realizing that this egotistical, anti-intellectual, vindictive, homophobic, gun-toting, bible-thumping, wolf-shooting, politically-lightweight hockey mom (along with her gaggle of oddly-named children, "first dude", and unwed pregnant teenage daughter), is just too unconventional to lead America through the serious days ahead. Rational-thinking people are getting over their initial shock, and are rightfully aghast that this bunch might actually have any chance of occupying the White House.

For my parting shot, let me suggest a much more suitable vocation for Ms. Mooseburger: the Palins should star in their own situation comedy/reality show about a strange backwoods clan who are thrust unexpectedly into a fast-paced modern world they are unprepared for, and can only deal with in bizarre, comic ways. They could call it "The Wasilla Hillbillies". On Fox, of course.

Oh wait, that's already been done. Dang.

Th-th-th-that's all, folks. On to other topics!

What are you thinking?

2008-09-19T16:12:00.002-05:00

An open letter to supporters of Sarah Palin:

Are you fucking nuts?

I mean seriously, have you people completely lost your minds?

Are you so blinded by your fear, bias, and irrational hatred of Barack Obama that you're ready to put one of the least-qualified candidates to appear the last century next in line to be leader of the free world? Her politics or gender have nothing to do with this; rather, I'm talking about her utter lack of any serious thought or ability when it comes to the economy, Iraq, health care, or for that matter any domestic or foreign policy.

You have to know that the chances of her becoming president within the next four to eight years are not insignificant. Based on actuarial tables using his age alone, John McCain has about a one-in-five chance of dying while in office. Factor in his health history of melanoma and other physical problems, and the chances that Palin could wind up as president approach even odds. Does this not at all worry you? Apparently not, because you've embraced this former beauty queen with a fervor that would be hard to top unless Jesus Himself had returned for the Second Coming and was running for office -- which is not all that far removed from Palin's ideology. Religious interpretation of public policy is a cornerstone of her values, as when she painted the current war in Iraq as a messianic affair in which the United States could act out the will of the Lord.

"Pray for our military men and women who are striving to do ... a task that is from God," she told the Wasilla Assembly of God, her church home for many years while she was growing up. "That's what we have to make sure that we're praying for, that there is a plan and that that plan is God's plan."

Palin apparently believes that God also has a plan for Alaska's energy proposals, as she asked the audience to pray for a $30 billion national gas pipeline project that she wanted built in Alaska. "I think God's will has to be done in unifying people and companies to get that gas line built," she said.

Personally, it scares the crap out of me to think that any VP -- or possibly president -- would be making critical decisions based in any part on their certainty of what "God's will" or "God's plan" is for America. When people in certain other countries do this, we refer to them as "fanatics", "fundamentalists", or perhaps even "terrorists". They believe without any doubt whatsoever that they are right, that their cause is blessed and they are willing to die for it and receive Allah's rewards in heaven.

Compare that concept to remarks made in a sermon by Ed Kalnins, the senior pastor of Wasilla Assembly of God since 1999:

"We need to think like Jesus thinks. We are in a time and a season of
war, and we need to think like that. We need to develop that instinct. We need to develop as believers the instinct that we are at war, and that war is contending for your faith. ... Jesus called us to die. You're worried about getting hurt? He's called us to die. Listen, you know we can't even follow him unless you are willing to give up your life. ... I believe that Jesus himself operated from that position of war mode."

Hmmmmm. Sound familiar?

Kalnins also preaches repeatedly about the apocalyptic prophesy of the "end times" or "last days." Granted, it's debatable whether politicians should be held responsible for the views of their religious mentors, as Obama learned with Rev. Wright. But it is fair to say that Palin's policies have been and will continue to be shaped by her belief in divine guidance to a far greater extent than most political leaders. She will have the "bully pulpit", in a literal and very chilling sense.

Her claim to the moral high ground, however, seems pretty hypocritical compared to some of her other positions and actions. For one thing, she out-and-out lied about her support for the so-called "Bridge to Nowhere." Then, not only does she apparently hate some of God's creatures, including endangered species, she seems to think it's OK for her husband Todd to defy a legal subpoena compelling him to testify in the investigation of her role in the "Troopergate" scandal, as well as to use her personal unsecured e-mail account to conduct state business in violation of public accountability laws. This last one is pretty funny, really. There's been all sorts of of righteous indignation from conservatives this week about the hacking of her Yahoo email account: "This is a shocking invasion of the governor’s privacy and a violation of law," campaign manager Rick Davis said Wednesday in a written statement. True enough, yet wholesale violations of the bill of rights by illegal government wiretaps and other actions under the Patriot Act don't seem to bother her at all. How does the shoe feel on the other foot, Sarah?

There are many other examples of her lack of even the most basic prerequisites for America's top leadership, but why go on? You Palin supporters are determined to place this unfit neophyte (who is getting a crash-course on global issues spoon-fed to her on 3x5 cards) at the helm of the nation in one of the most challenging times in recent history, when our aggressive and arrogant foreign policies have left us with few friends in the world. Think we've had it rough during the last eight years of Dubya? Just wait; a McCain/Palin presidency will be an unmitigated disaster. But you don't seem to care. So let me ask you again:

Are you fucking nuts?

Ike strikes

2008-09-13T20:40:00.002-05:00

Hurricane Ike barreled into our small town early this afternoon, after causing major havoc along the Texas Gulf coast and the Houston area last night and early this morning. Thankfully, damage was much less severe than had been feared. We are roughly 200 miles from Galveston, far enough inland that we hardly ever get much of any impact from Gulf storms. This time, though, forecasters had predicted winds of 75 to 90 mph, although it didn't appear to me that we had anything close to that. But there were lots of downed trees (a few of which stuck homes), and widespread power outages throughout East Texas. Our house was spared anything serious; a tree across the street fell over but missed us completely, and we only lost power momentarily during the storm. The only casualty was our back yard gazebo and birdbath which blew over.

After it became clear a short time ago that the worst was over, I drove around a bit to asses the damage in our neighborhood. Here are some photos:

I can't say I was overly concerned at any time during the storm, as we have a special resource to depend upon in an emergency. As you probably know, animals have a sixth sense for predicting natural dangers, and since we have three cats, we are fortunate to be protected by the F.E.W.S., or Feline Early Warning System:

Since we never spotted more than one cat taking refuge at any given time, we felt reassured that things were not going to be so bad.

Style over substance

2008-09-11T13:35:00.001-05:00

Sarah Palin's handlers, realizing that the VP nominee is very likely to reveal her gross inexperience and utter lack of qualification for office if exposed to close scrutiny, are sequestering her from the public and the media -- a fact which today's Miami Herald finds outrageous:

If any of the Republican or Democratic presidential candidates had refused to talk to voters or media during the recent primary contests the way vice presidential nominee Sarah Palin has done in recent days, they would have been dismissed immediately from serious consideration. Not talk to voters while seeking the second-highest public office in the country? Preposterous!

Yet, amazingly, this is the position that John McCain and Ms. Palin have taken as they campaign together following Ms. Palin's popular acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention. After a rally this week in Lancaster, Pa., some of Ms. Palin's supporters waited outside for her. "Speech! Speech!" they shouted, hoping she would take the podium as Mr. McCain had just done. Ms. Palin smiled, shook a few hands and left. Requests for interviews by radio, television and newspaper journalists have been met with the same cold shoulder.

A McCain campaign spokesman said that Ms. Palin would "agree to an interview when we think it's time and when she feels she's comfortable doing it." Really? If Ms. Palin isn't ready for prime time, ready to talk with people she is asking to vote for her or to discuss the tough issues facing the country, then one has to wonder if she's ready to be vice president.

Meanwhile, what's the latest buzz making the news about the candidate? Is it her position on energy matters, the environment, foreign policy, or any other major issues? No. It's her designer glasses.

In-freaking-credible.

No more Mr. Nice Guy

2008-09-09T15:51:00.002-05:00

Well, it's not just me.

Over at the Huffington Post, Drew Westen opens up today's commentary on the current state of the political landscape by saying, "Democrats around the country have been growing increasingly anxious over the last week, and for good reason." The article, entitled "What Obama Needs To Do In The Final Sixty Days," takes the Democratic candidate to task for being too polite and not aggressive enough towards McCain and Palin:

McCain shouldn't have gotten a 10-point bump from his uncivil convention, and this election shouldn't be close. What happened in one short week was both completely predictable and completely avoidable. Just hours after a Democratic Convention that reignited Democratic enthusiasm and started to swing those swing voters who just weren't sure about Obama, the Obama campaign had forgotten everything it should have learned from its success of Denver--most importantly that you never drop your gloves, and that you never let the other side control the narratives--and had returned to the same failed strategies that gave us Presidents Dukakis, Gore, and Kerry, strategies Democratic consultants have passed from generation to generation like a family heirloom laced with hemlock.

He's right, and it's high time for Barack to take off the kid gloves and go ruthlessly on the offensive to counter the ridiculous "G.I. John and Superwoman" image being cultivated by the Republicans, which is effectively scoring gains in the polls. This is not a comic book fantasy here, this is real life, and if Obama doesn't step up to the plate and clobber voters over the head with the message that John McCain will bring us (at least) another four years of disastrous Bush policies, we're gonna frickin' lose this thing. He needs to boldly take charge of this election and dramatically redirect the discussion away from the frivolous (Sarah Palin's hairstyle?? Jesus, come on, people!) back to the issues that will impact the future of this country; as Ariana Huffington puts it, "A presidential campaign is a battle and this is the time for Obama to show some commander-in-chief skills."

Damn straight. Let's kick some ass.

Couldn't have said it better

2008-09-08T23:35:00.000-05:00

From the History News Network, an article written by historian and college professor Mark Naisan:

The McCain Palin ticket, if elected, would be a disaster for the country. Their propensity to invoke God's will as a justification for government policies, their contempt for science and intellect, their extraordinary lack of knowledge about the culture and history of the major nations of the world, and their shameless defense of an oil-centered energy policy that has produced economic and ecological disaster for the nation, poorly prepares them to lead a nation whose reputation has been damaged by an ill-considered war and whose position in the global economy has been steadily weakening.

Exactly right, and I figure that anyone and everyone understands this. But then, just as I start getting hopeful that we're on the verge of waking up from an eight-year-long national nightmare, I continue reading and get sucker-punched by the next paragraph of Naisan's essay:

However, the very things that make McCain and Palin feared in most of the world gives them an excellent chance of winning the presidency. Their proud anti-intellectualism, reflected in their personal histories as well as their rhetoric, touches a powerful chord with many working class and middle class Americans. There is a long tradition in this country of mistrusting people who have advanced academic training, which the McCain/Palin ticket has used to great effect in holding Barack Obama up to ridicule. While some Americans might admire Obama for working as a community organizer before attending Harvard Law School, and for teaching law before running for public office, Republicans have used these features of his biography to say that he doesn't understand how "real folks" live.

Well this is distressing ... but then, here comes the coup de gras:

After listening to the speeches at the Republican Convention, I am convinced that appealing to such fears and suspicions is at the core of the McCain/Palin strategy. None of this is new. From George Wallace, to Spiro Agnew to Rush Limbaugh, the right has used anti-intellectualism as one of its major rallying cries. But to do so at this historic moment, when the American economy is in deep disarray and so many of its foreign policy initiatives have come to grief, is particularly worrisome. Will working class and middle class Americans see through this desperate charade and vote for someone with the temperament, training and intellect to actually solve some of the nation's problems, or will they let their own fears and prejudices wed them to the status quo?

Good question, and it's worth noting that McCain's post-convention bounce in the tracking polls has closed his rival's earlier 6-point lead, leaving the two candidates in a statistically dead-even match. Still, I remain optimistic; even though (to my utter amazement) Americans re-elected George W. Bush in 2004, I can only hope we have learned from that colossal mistake and are not indeed a nation of idiots after all.

Knowledge and culture = good. Fear and prejudice = bad. Is this really so fucking hard to grasp?

Bristol Palin Is Major Babeage

2008-09-04T20:33:00.005-05:00

That has to be the thought running through the mind of many young (and not-so-young) men this week since Sarah Palin's 17-year old daughter has been thrust into the limelight by the recent announcement that she is five months pregnant. Hey, forget those skanky Bush twins! Bristol's cute, has a killer bod, and like, dude, she obviously puts out!

Oh wait ... I'm sorry, I forgot: family is supposed to be off limits in this election, and the Republicans are already getting traction by chastising certain media outlets for asking intrusive questions about allegations leveled at Palin and her family. Yet, the McCain campaign apparently sees no problem in trotting out Palin's brood at every public appearance, arranging for Bristol's baby-daddy Levi Johnston to be seated at the convention alongside the Palin family and Cindy McCain, where the newborn Trig Palin was passed up and down the line like the campaign prop he's become.

Sorry Sarah, but you can't have it both ways. You can't say "please respect the privacy of my family" as you exploit them for political gain, and wrap yourself in Poor Little Sweet Baby Trig to prove your anti-abortion stand. (BTW, where did they get the names for these kids? Trig, Track, Bristol, Piper, Willow? What are they going to name Bristol's child when it's born in four months? Meegosh? Sorsha? Madmartigan?)

In any case, she did get off to a strong start with her speech at the RNC convention last night, at one point quipping: "By the way, do you know what they say the difference is between a hockey mom and a Pit Bull? Lipstick." She also fired a few salvos at one of conservatives' favorite targets: "the liberal media," for being so impertinent as to ask questions about her family. This preview seems to suggest that much of her campaign strategy will involve attacking the press, which, as Richard Nixon used to such advantage, can work much better than attacking your opponent when you have little else of substance to run on. Over at Slate, reporter Jack Shafer went as far as to say of Palin, "she'll run as the new Sprio Agnew." (Apparently, former references to "Dan Quale in a dress" are no longer apropos, now that we're beginning to see Palin's formidable chops as an attack dog.) Shafer went on to say:

Instead of letting Palin talk directly and frequently to the press, the McCain campaign will dress her in bunting and rush her from one controlled setting the next—small towns, firebases in Iraq and Afghanistan, "town halls," important funerals, church conventions, and American Legion halls (essentially George W. Bush's current itinerary). There she'll play the role of Spiro Agnew to McCain's Nixon, dismissing reporters' tough questions as effete, impudent, sacrilegious, snobby, intrusive, unpatriotic, hostile, disrespectful, chauvinistic, "East Coast," unfair, unbalanced, liberal, biased, trivial, hypothetical, elitist, and as partisan attempts to lasso her with a "gotcha." Beating the press always attracts votes, but rarely enough to turn an election. Palin could find herself winning the battle for her running mate but losing the war.

As Shafer points out, the attacks could backfire: already the Democrats are reporting that donations to their campaign are up considerably since Palin was named as the Republican VP nominee and began criticizing Obama:

"Sarah Palin's attacks have rallied our supporters in ways we never expected," Obama campaign spokesman Bill Burton said. "And we fully expect John McCain's attacks tonight to help us make our grassroots organization even stronger."

Personally, I think Palin was a VP choice of desperation for McCain, and my prediction is that she will ultimately be a liability instead of an asset to the ticket. Her choice was an obvious pander to disaffected Hillary Clinton supporters, but her political views are nearly 180 degrees from HRC's, and I honestly don't believe that many women (no matter their political stripe) are so short-sighted that they will vote for her simply because she has a vagina. Much has been made of the fact that she is a "hockey mom" and an "ordinary person", and that this should somehow appeal to us. Excuse me, but I don't want an "ordinary" person in the White House -- I want someone extra-ordinary who has the experience and ability to effectively handle the most important job on the planet. Considering his age and past health issues, there is more than an insignificant chance that Miss Congeniality could in fact become the leader of the free world if John McCain expires before his term of office does. So, seriously: is this the person you want to be a heartbeat away from the presidency?

Readers, please comment.

Let's burn!

2008-08-26T10:42:00.008-05:00

As the Democratic National Convention gets underway in Denver, it's interesting to note another large gathering in the Great American West which, coincidentally or not, is occurring at the exact same time: once again this week, I will -- in spirit, at least -- be joining the parade of freaks, hippies, seekers, revelers, kindred spirits, and just plain ol' folks as they trek to the Black Rock Desert of northern Nevada for the annual Burning Man festival. In the culmination of the event next Saturday night, "The Man" (the iconic stick figure at right, which represents ... well, anything you care to assign to it) will go up in flames in a grand pyrotechnic orgy of chanting, dancing and celebration. Although I've never been in person, I've been fascinated with this event for many years, and hope to make it some day. But the daunting logistics of doing so (not to mention the harsh desert environment of alkali dust which would play havoc with my lung condition) means I will, alas, be postponing the adventure for at least another year.

Burning Man, for anyone who might not know, is a counter-cultural celebration of freedom, art, and community. About 50,000 participants gather annually in the desert about 120 miles northeast of Reno to create Black Rock City, which for seven days becomes the third-largest city in Nevada, and is dedicated to (as their website proclaims) "radical self-expression and self-reliance". They depart leaving no trace of their presence on the playa. Unfortunately, the festival has acquired a somewhat undeserved reputation over the years of being a wild, drug-fueled debauchery of rave music, nudity, and anonymous sex. However, while some of these activities may take place (as they do in any city of this size), most participants are there for more than to just smoke dope and get laid. Indeed, many come with lofty spiritual goals; there will be a full-fledged Krishna temple and Rath Yatra from Puri, India at the site offering mantra meditation, yoga, traditional Indian devotional singing, dance and drumming, blessed food, and the sacred Narsimha Yajna fire ceremony. Assistant Director Rasikananda Das says:

Festival participants are welcome to get married in traditional Hindu style at the Camp. Temple priests will also give Sanskrit names to seekers. A marathon mantra-chanting day will be held at the Camp, which includes chanting "Hare Krishna" mahamantra (great mantra) for a continuous 24 hours. Besides no meat/fish/eggs, other restrictions at Krishna Camp are no sex, no gambling, and no liquor, although the Burning Man festival does not prohibit these.

In many ways, to me and other aging baby-boomers, Burning Man represents the ideals we held dear during our hippie-heydays of the late 60's and early 70's. As Kris Kristofferson wrote and Janis sang back then, "freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose", and it has always struck me as ironic that many people flee from freedom, finding it to be empty and foreboding. But at Burning Man, freedom not only allows one to do or be virtually anything for a week as long as you "do no harm to others" (in other words, follow the Golden Rule), participants also use their freedom to create art; the art becomes especially meaningful in that it's both a self-created act of personal expression, as well as being communal at the same time. Gigantic immersive sculptures on the desert floor invite people to not just view the work, but to experience it by interacting and becoming one with it. That may sound hokey, but it's the essence of the event; that all who attend are not merely spectators, but active participants in a massive cultural experiment.

This fact leads to the other guiding principle of Burning Man, that of community. As you may know, the festival is an environment without money, which relies on what is called a "gifting" economy. You bring with you what you need to survive in the desert for a week, and barter, exchange, or give freely with others for anything else. While there's nothing wrong with money as an accepted method of obtaining the goods and services we humans require in a large and diverse day-to-day world, it is also a cold common denominator that reduces us as individuals and forces us into stereotypical roles of "consumers" and "providers". The absence of money at Burning Man strips away this impersonal shell and encourages people to be generous and tolerant: two important ingredients to creating and maintaining community.

So when you put it all together -- art, freedom, community, generosity, and tolerance -- you have the essential elements of what the hippie lifestyle was all about way back then. Forty years later, if those ideals only bring 50,000 people together in harmony for one week a year ... well, I guess that's better than nothing. Plus, where else would a vehicle like the one below be considered "normal"?

For other images from the event, click here or here.

Today's Inspirational Message

2008-08-14T22:42:00.002-05:00

Breaking political disaster news coverage

2008-08-09T13:43:00.001-05:00

I found it quite interesting that the mainstream media finally decided to run with the John Edwards affair, which the blogosphere and other alternative sources have been covering at least since October of 2007. Many big-name news outlets are privately aghast that the supermarket tabloid (who can now justifiably crow "I told you so") beat them to this story, but the Enquirer has historically tended to not hamper itself with minor details like "proof" and "corroboration", which in this case were nearly impossible to come by until one of the players in the scandal stepped forward as Edwards himself did last week. I think it's sad that a bright star like John Edwards -- who still had much to offer to the Democratic party -- has now joined the ranks of dishonored public officials including Gary Hart, Bill Clinton, Larry Craig, Mark Foley, former NY governor Eliot Spitzer, and many others, who betrayed the trust placed in them not so much by having illicit sexual liaisons, but by lying about them afterwards in an attempt to cover them up.

And yet, there's another even bigger story that the MSM has neglected to report in depth: a national disaster of epic proportions that has so far caused thousands of deaths, and wreaked financial havoc in America. Once again we must turn to an alternative news source for the story, in this case The Onion. Watch the video below for the shocking details.

How hot is it?

2008-08-06T13:41:00.001-05:00

Although we had a brief respite from the heat yesterday thanks to Tropical Storm Edouard (which brought a little rain but not much else), it's been a broiler down here since about the 4th of July, and the temperature is back into triple digits again today.

It's so hot that... (insert lame reference to frying eggs on the sidewalk, potatoes baking underground, etc., here. If you need assistance coming up with a witty thermal bon mot, see this site.)

Anyway, according to my handy-dandy indoor-outdoor thermometer it was this hot last Friday:

Displayed is the actual temperature, mind you, not the heat index, which is like 120-something. This is the price we pay in southeast Texas for not having to deal with snow in the wintertime. You folks up North may laugh, but all I can say is God Bless Willis Carrier.

Hello from Nowhere, Texas

2008-08-04T13:52:00.000-05:00

OK, we're now into August, and with only two, (count 'em, two!) posts all of last month -- both of which on the lame side -- I have to state the obvious: this blog is officially in the crapper, folks. I have no excuse, really. My motivation just plain stinks. I have occasional ideas for what should (in theory, at least) be really good, snappy posts, but can't seem to bring myself around to actually sit down and write them. Even typing this now feels harder than it should be. What gives? A close friend of mine wrote recently on the subject of depression:

It feels like waking up with an anvil in my chest. The weight of it is crushing but yet I am expected to move about my day. All of the stupid little things that you take for granted doing now seem insurmountable. Everything requires much more energy than you can muster.

That's exactly what I've been feeling like lately, so maybe we're onto something. Of course, it could also be just plain ol' garden-variety boredom, as nothing much has been happening here recently. My lung condition makes it harder for me to breathe in the extreme heat we've been having in Texas during the last month or so, and because of this I haven't been getting out much; sitting around the house like a potted plant does not for thrilling blog posts make. In any case, I don't like it, and am going to work on improving my attitude. In the meantime, until I give myself a good swift kick in the pants, pull myself up by my bootstraps, turn that frown upside down and "get over it", I thought I'd send a cyber-postcard to let y'all know I'm thinking about you. More meaty posts will follow later. Really.

PS: This is not the actual street on which I live. Things could be worse.

We all just want to dance

2008-07-18T19:58:00.001-05:00

Forget about all the trouble and strife in the world for four minutes and twenty-nine seconds while you watch this truly amazing video from Matthew Harding. The words to the original music by Garry Schyman were adapted from the Bengali poem "Stream Of Life" from Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore; the video spans 42 countries and was three years in the making.

Smile. Sing. Dance. Live the dream.

Posting, weakly

2008-07-02T11:21:00.001-05:00

So it appears that a once-a-week-or-so post has now become the norm for me. Gah. Sorry about that folks, there just hasn't been a whole lot of stuff happening worth blogging about lately. As clear evidence of this, here's the most important, pressing matter that's currently occupying my time:

Imagine for a moment you buy a new car from the Ola Motor Corporation. It comes with everything you'd expect a car to have in order to work properly, e.g., an engine, steering wheel, brakes, tires, etc. But after you've driven it for a few months, one day you get a flat tire and discover a fact that you were not told when you bought the car: the tires are proprietary, and no other tires will fit this vehicle but the ones made by Ola Motor. Obviously, you need to use the car, and since it won't work properly without one of its tires, you contact the manufacturer to obtain a replacement and receive the following (extremely courteous) reply:

Dear valued customer,

Thank you for contacting Ola Motor e-mail support, we appreciate your interest in our products.

Regarding your concern, please note that Ola Motor warranties all our vehicles for a period of one year from the date of purchase to be free from manufactured defects in materials and workmanship. Our products are manufactured and tested to give our customers the performance they have come to expect when purchasing a product made by Ola Motor.

We regret to inform you that replacement tires are not available separately. However as a one time exception we can replace the vehicle for you.

To obtain a warranty replacement for your vehicle, please reply back providing us with your personal information (full name, address, city, state, zip code and day time phone number, vehicle part number and model number, certified copy of your sales receipt and method of payment, social security number, bank account numbers, mother's maiden name, and the description and location of any identifying marks on your body such as tattoos.)

With this information we will create a return authorization and will let you know the address where to ship the vehicle to.

We look forward to assisting you in the future.

Thank you for contacting Ola Motor e-mail support.

Best Regards,

OK, now that you've got the basic idea, the following helpful illustration should put this in perspective for you:

This is my relatively-new Ola Motor Model S9 Bluetooth Stereo Headset. It sounds great, and has been very comfortable to wear for extended periods, allowing me to listen to mp3's from my cell phone. Its fatal design flaw, however, are the ear pads: they are not attached all that securely, and I have managed to lose one. So in order to obtain a small piece of rubber that can't be worth more than fifty cents, I have to send the entire unit in because the ear pads are not available separately.

What freaking genius at Motorola, er, I mean Ola Motor, came up with this plan?

So there you have it; if this is the most serious thing I have had to frustrate over lately, my life must be pretty damn boring, wouldn't you say? Hopefully yours is way more exciting than this.

19-20-21

2008-06-22T21:02:00.004-05:00

19 cities with over
20 million population in the
21 st Century.

Supercities are rising -- vast urban hubs that will radically define the world's future economic and cultural landscape. In 1800, less than 3% of the world's population lived in cities, in fact most people lived their entire lives without ever seeing one. By 1900, 150 million people lived in the world's cities; that number has now surged past three billion, and as of last year, more than half the people on earth live in cities. By 2050, it will be more than 2/3 of us. Humans are now predominantly an urban species, but our population, including the public and private sector, is not yet adequately prepared for life in these intensely urban hubs.

What's this all about? How will it affect you? Click here.

Feeling paraskevidekatriaphobic?

2008-06-13T20:24:00.002-05:00

None of the 17 million or so people worldwide who suffer from paraskevidekatriaphobia -- the fear of Friday the 13th -- will read this post, as they are no doubt at home in bed, cowering under the covers until the day is officially over at midnight. And perhaps they're onto something, because I can in fact say with absolute, 100% certainty that anyone who leaves their home today, Friday, June 13, 2008, is going to die!¹

Ironically, a study published today by the Dutch Center for Insurance Statistics showed that fewer accidents and reports of fire and theft occur when the 13th of the month falls on a Friday than on other Fridays; the study revealed an average of 7,800 traffic accidents each Friday, with the figure dropping to just 7,500 when the 13th fell on a Friday. This may be because people are trying to be extra-careful, or instead remain at home on the supposedly unlucky day. It is claimed that businesses lose in the neighborhood of $800 to $900 million on this day because many people will not board airline flights or do other things they would otherwise normally do.

Superstitions about Friday being a lucky, or unlucky day (depending on your belief) have their roots in Norse mythology, and the number 13 has been considered bad luck since ancient times. Put the two together and you have double trouble. See this site for origins of Friday the 13th lore, or check out the Snopes page for more information.

Personally, today has been no different than any other for me. Still, Mrs. Toast and I don't plan on inviting eleven guests over for dinner tonight. (No sense taking chances.)

What about you?

__________
¹Eventually

A holiday that brings a tear to my eye

2008-06-06T15:11:00.003-05:00

Every year in early June, there is a national holiday that fills me with love, pride, and a special wistfulness.

Wait, you thought I meant "Father's Day"? Hell, no! I'm referring to National Donut Day. According to the New York Daily News, today is "a bona fide holiday that’s been observed since 1938 on the first Friday of every June." It was originally established by the Salvation Army to honor the "lassies" of WWI, who made thousands of the tasty treats for homesick soldiers on the battlefields of France (sometimes frying them in a GI helmet filled with cooking grease). That's how they became known as "doughboys".

Rest assured that I will do my patriotic duty today and consume as many donuts as possible. It's the least I can do for my country.

In honor of the occasion, Krispy Kreme is giving away a free donut of your choice, just for the asking. Stop by your local store and do your part as a responsible citizen.

Happy Donut Day!

At last, a holiday that all species can enjoy together.

Happy Throw In The Towel Day!

2008-06-03T06:30:00.005-05:00

All indicators are pointing to the fact that once results are in from the final Democratic primary states today, Hillary Clinton will at last end her long race for the nomination. As Wesley Pruden writes in today's WaPo:

All day yesterday the gossips, bloggers and other blowhards buzzed with the news that the last dog had died, that it was time to put out the cat, dim the light in the hall and bank the fire in the cookstove. The worker bees were told to turn in their final expense accounts, stuff their stale underwear in their briefcases, buy one final ticket home and gather tonight at Appomattox Court House for the ritual obsequies.

I think it's about time. (It's actually way past time, but I'm trying to be magnanimous here.) Even her husband seemed ready to admit the obvious yesterday. "I want to say," Bill told a crowd in South Dakota, "that this may be the last day I'm ever involved in a campaign of this kind. I thought I was out of politics, till Hillary decided to run. But it has been one of the greatest honors of my life to go around and campaign for her for president."

I have long had much respect for Senator Clinton, and strongly considered supporting her campaign as recently as last January. But I think the voters and delegates have spoken, and I believe that Barack Obama now has the best chance to effect a real, positive change from the politics of arrogance and deception that have been the hallmark of the Bush administration, and that Hillary is at last ready to face the rising tide of reality.

Or is she? The Chicago Sun-Times this morning advises its readers, "don't expect a concession speech from Sen. Hillary Clinton tonight, no matter the returns from South Dakota and Montana," and reports that her staff is still busy trying to woo financial backers and push her message that she's the only person capable of defeating John McCain in November. For her part, speaking yesterday after winning the Puerto Rico primary by a large margin, Hillary told her supporters: "My political obituary has yet to be written, and we're going forward. It is not over 'til it's over."

We'll see tonight, but trust me ... it's over. Somewhere off in the distance, I hear the fat lady singing.

Footnote 6/6: "Throw In The Towel Day" has been postponed until Saturday.

Memorial Day 2008

2008-05-25T04:09:00.002-05:00

Another Memorial Day is here, and hopefully at some point this weekend while we're enjoying our BBQ cookouts and celebrating the unofficial start of summer, we will remember to honor those who have lost their lives in service to our country. We pay our respects to those who have made the ultimate sacrifice in all the wars the U.S. has fought throughout its history, but the casualties in Iraq are foremost in the minds of many Americans this weekend.

No matter your political stripe or level of support for the war itself, you must admit that over the last five years and counting, those who have suffered most during this conflict (besides the Iraqi people themselves) have been the individual U.S. soldiers who have put their home lives on hold while simply trying to do the job they've been assigned as best as they can. It's dirty, difficult, dangerous work, with the constant risk of injury and death; and as do many others, I make a huge distinction between our troops who voluntarily put themselves on the line every day, and the politicians and policies that continue to needlessly place them in harm's way.

Here's one small way to help. Have you ever passed by someone in uniform in a store, on the street, or in an airport and wanted to thank them for their service, but didn't know how? Perhaps you were hesitant to start what could become an awkward conversation for either of you. Instead, you can wordlessly express your appreciation with something called "The Gratitude Gesture." It's easy; just place your hand over your heart momentarily, then keeping your elbow in place, extend your hand down, palm up. It takes maybe a second, and it's becoming universally recognized as a symbol of respect and appreciation by civilians toward service men and women in public. It's not military, like a salute, and it's non-partisan, non-political, and non-judgmental. It simply says "thanks". And people don't say that enough anyway.

This is an ex-parrot

2008-05-23T06:06:00.005-05:00

Remember the 1978 sketch from "Saturday Night Live" with John Belushi as "The Thing Who Wouldn't Leave"? Outside her camp of hard-core supporters, most other Democrats are screaming in horror like Jane Curtain (some quietly, some not) as Hillary continues to ignore the obvious in her increasingly futile bid for the nomination. There is not much doubt in the minds of anyone who is thinking clearly that for a variety of reasons, the Clinton ship is sinking; yet as captain, Hillary is determined to ride it to the bitter end -- even if it tears the party apart. Most major news organizations, including Newsweek and US News & World Report, are beginning to rightfully focus their coverage on the upcoming McCain-Obama contest. The New York Times wrote, "The shrinking candidacy of Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton has all but vanished from the television set."

Sen. Barack Obama's milestone victory in Oregon this week gave him a majority of pledged delegates to the Democratic convention, and as Hillary's campaign drifts further into desperation, one of the many venues in which she's taking a shellacking is, predictably, YouTube. This video features the versatile Lisa Nova playing Hillary as a delusional Norma Desmond in the final scene of "Sunset Boulevard". (For comparison, you can watch the original clip here.)

And in keeping with the Monty Python theme of today's (as well as yesterday's) post title -- not to mention that we promised the hilarity of dismemberment would soon return to this site -- the next video seems entirely appropriate.

Hillary still has a diminishing window of opportunity to show some class and gracefully withdraw, but that's not likely to happen. She somehow sees herself as destined to make history as America's first woman president, and no doubt must be incredibly pissed off at an upstart like Obama who hasn't, in her mind, paid his dues or waited his turn. For someone like myself who has been so disgusted with the last eight years of The Shrub, I've been audaciously hopeful that America was at last ready to put a sane person in the White House; but if she continues on this path, Hillary may very well lead the Democratic party to proverbially snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. How very sad, and dangerous. I actually do think that someday our first female president could be a Clinton, but I also believe there's a good chance her first name will be "Chelsea".

And now for something completely different

2008-05-22T14:36:00.001-05:00

To balance out my last couple of posts which have inadvertently bordered on the macabre and gruesome, today we present some comic relief in the form of an incredibly cute video of a baby panda sneezing:

If that's not enough for you, here's another "awwwww" photo:

Or you could just go to Cute Overload and be done with it. Our regular (read: "bizarre") blog programming will return soon.

Creepy advertising

2008-05-20T17:58:00.001-05:00

Memorial Day weekend is fast approaching, and for many people that means outdoor cookouts with hot dogs, burgers, Bar-B-Q, and other typical "American" food. Coincidentally, today's post from blog-buddy Supacoo (whose job has relocated her to Germany for the next two years) features a link to the European discount chain ALDI, and offers an entertaining look at how "American" products (and by extension, Americans themselves) are perceived over in Deutchland. Hot dogs in a jar, anyone?

Here is your typical American Housewife, as presented in the German ad:

I don't know about you, but this woman scares the shit out of me. Look at that evil grin and those demon eyes, not to mention that she's squeezing something out of a tube onto my sandwich that appears to be silicone drain sealant. After I choke to death on it, she's going to cook ME for dinner.

Psycho-Wife joins a long and storied history of advertising models who look like they've just stepped out of a horror movie. For example, this kid is either eating a plate of spaghetti, or it could be brains. I'm not sure.

Next, the look on the little girl's face below seems to indicate that she has apparently forced her mother to chop up the family dog in a meat grinder and spread the bloody offal on a sandwich for her:

Whereas there is absolutely no mistaking that this next child is, indeed, the Daughter of Satan:

Mmmm, human hearts on a plate. Bon appetit!

More people who do stuff better than I do

2008-05-15T14:00:00.001-05:00

Which would include roughly 99.97% of the Earth's population, but never mind that now. If you are a fan of both photography and music, as I am, you will enjoy visiting stevecarter.com. Steve is an affable English bloke who built a beautiful house on a loch in the Scottish highlands where he lives with his family, including Charlie, a Bearded Collie whom he describes as "somewhat mad". Steve kept a blog to document the construction of his home, which must be seen to be believed. If I ever had a "dream house", it would look very much like the 5-bedroom eco-friendly Finnish log home (with integrated recording studio) that Steve designed and built on 200 yards of coastline in a Caledonian pine forest, with views to die for.

Steve's music is very orchestral in nature; he now composes mainly production soundtracks for film, television, and documentaries after spending many years as a session player in London. Unlike me, he takes stunning photos, which can be seen in great detail (some can be downloaded as wallpaper) on his site. Like me, however, he is an aficionado of Bad Album Cover Art, including this delightfully tacky sample from his collection which has now become one of my favorites:

I'm sure there's an inspirational message here, but I have no idea what it might be, and frankly, I'm not sure I want to know, as somehow this cover suggests the disturbing possibility that Freddie Gage is a mass murderer who has killed and dismembered his entire family and all his friends. At least he was careful not to get any blood on those white boots.

Words on a page

2008-05-14T11:37:00.004-05:00

You should read this blog. No, not this blog ... this blog. Here's a few random quotes:

I've never been a fan of those "Love Is" comics (you know, with the naked children with the big methed-out eyes and scary lack of genitalia), but I'm pretty sure they never published one that read: "Love is... giving him sponge baths and cleaning up his poop as he waits for the sweet release of death."

-0-

When you live in the same place for too long, the weird stuff starts to blend into the background. I doubt if a farmer has ever looked out on his back yard and thought, "Holy shit, look at all those fucking cows! How the hell did I end up here? Have I seriously not had a friend in the last decade who I haven't milked?"

-0-

At some point during the evening, they casually mentioned, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, that their home is haunted by a ghost who likes to play pranks on them.

"At least once a month, we'll wake up under our bed," the husband told us.

"Excuse me?" I asked. "Under the bed? As in... on the floor?"

"That's right," he said with a giggle. "We'll open our eyes and we're staring up at the bed frame, wondering how the heck we got there. It was kinda spooky the first time it happened, but after awhile we just got used to it."

Check it out. Seriously. Good. Shit.

I must admit that it intimidates me a bit to read the work of someone who blogs this well. I know it's stupid and pointless to compare my feeble scribblings to a professional writer with many magazine credits and no less than six published books, any more than it is to judge my crappy 80's songwriting attempts by, say, Lennon/McCartney standards. But even though there's no way in hell I can measure up (nor should I expect to), the same thought nevertheless occurs to me that I had back then, when I thought there might be a chance I could actually become some sort of musical "artist": I am merely average; not terrible, but not great, and certainly not good "enough".

I have long believed that every single person on the planet has emotions and thoughts bubbling around in our brains that can be expressed in some creative way if given the opportunity -- whether it be painting, photography, writing music, poetry, or any other art form. But to me, two primary qualities distinguish "average" from "great"; one, of course, being the quality of the work, but the other being sustainability. For most of us, once we get those few burning thoughts out of our systems and are reasonably pleased with our efforts, we're spent. Done. Pack it up, that's all she wrote. We quickly realize that while we might have a modicum of talent or ability, we have no original thoughts or emotions that haven't already been better expressed by someone else previously.* "Why re-invent the wheel?", a potential artist might logically ask. If I can't be "great", then why bother at all?

Thank God everyone doesn't think like this, however, otherwise there would have been no words written after Shakespeare, nor would anyone have attempted to compose music after hearing Mozart. Much of what's called "the creative process" involves some form of imitation; after all, there are only so many human emotions. How many songs throughout history (or at least within the last 50-60 years) can be distilled, at their most basic expression, down to "I love my baby"?

Nope; I'll keep on blogging, even though so many others do it better. Millions of average writers like myself will continue to spill our average words on the page/screen, in the hope that eventually one of us will create something truly original and noteworthy that stands the test of time. It's human nature, and if we don't strive for it, we'll never achieve it. Thankfully, blogs like the one I discovered today inspire me to keep trying.

__________
*Musically speaking, to a certain extent this explains the "sophomore jinx" that many bands experience; their second effort being vastly inferior to their first, because they've already said whatever it was they had to say and failed to deliver on their initial promise. It is also for this reason that I think the whole idea of a "cover" recording of a signature song already well-done by a famous artist is patently absurd.

Another statistically meaningless survey

2008-05-13T06:02:00.001-05:00

True confession: one of the reasons I mentioned Woot in yesterday's post is that I am a confirmed gadget freak with a tendency to spend significant chunks of change on electronic doodads that I have absolutely no real use for, just because they have lots of bells, whistles, flashing lights, and are fun to play with. Apparently I am not alone in this gizmo-fetish, as Woot seems to specialize in items of this nature.

Case in point: yesterday I Wooted away $199 on a refurbished Acer Aspire desktop computer. Dumb dumb dumb, I know ... but hey, it was a heck of a deal!! Now, I need another computer around here like a fish needs a bicycle, as we must have at least nine or ten functioning PC's at La Casa De Toastada at the moment. I'm counting my laptop, Mrs. Toast's laptop, a couple of servers, my Internet radio station, a "backup" PC in case one of the servers craps out, and another machine that seems to have disappeared somewhere in the jungle of network wiring in what used to be "the spare bedroom" but is now more commonly referred to as "the computer room". I'm not certain exactly where it is in there, but I have a pretty strong hunch it may be plotting world domination as I write this. It is probably no coincidence that my home wireless 802.11g network is named "Skynet".

Anyway, the main reason I bought this puppy was because it came with a real, legal, licensed copy of Windows Vista. There is nearly unanimous agreement among tech writers that Vista sucks, in fact even entire blogs have been devoted to this point of view. But being a hands-on sort of guy, I wanted to experience this suckage first-hand for myself, and up until now I haven't been able to do so. If it's really as crappy as people say, I can always nuke the hard drive and install XP, but in the meantime I have a new toy to play with which only set me back $70 more than a retail copy of Vista alone. (And it has purty red and green lights! Dang!)

So on to the survey: to get a point of reference before I post anything about this potentially awesome and mind-numbing experience, I'm curious as to what operating system you, dear reader of this blog, have installed on your own computer. If you have multiple machines at home, pick whichever one you're using to read this now.

Thanks for participating. More to come, and I'll try to post a warning if it appears that my network is starting to become self-aware.

Woot me!

2008-05-12T07:00:00.000-05:00

I've discovered a new ~~obsession~~ fun diversion: the deal-a-day site known as Woot. Every day at midnight, they put up one item for sale at a ridiculously low price, and when they're gone, they're gone; it could be minutes, it could be hours. You never know what they're going to have for sale in advance, or when an item might sell out, so the only thing to do is go there and check it out every day as soon after midnight as possible, in case it's something you might actually want. For example, just the other day I snagged this lovely Mr. Toast T-Shirt for a mere five bucks:

Uber-fashionable, eh? Of course, I think this one would have been much more appropriate:

iPope 2.0

2008-05-08T14:52:00.001-05:00

Translation Of Papal Message in Yesterday's Post For Anyone Over The Age Of 16:

"Good Heavens! Hello brothers and sisters, it is I, His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI. I'm so sorry I cannot meet with you face-to-face, but it is certainly great to talk to you nevertheless. Are you aware of my age, sex, and current location at this very moment? I am parked right in front of your house in my Papal Vehicle! Oh my, that is so funny, but I'm only kidding you, I have a message from Your Savior Jesus Christ the Son of God: Don't be a person who hates others. I'm chuckling to myself now. You should always bless your girlfriend or boyfriend with many hugs and kisses ... but be sure to do the right thing! What do I mean by this? I mean don't smoke any marijuana, or watch pornography, and most importantly, always remain celibate. Honest to God, I mean it, and not only because your parents are watching you, but remember God is watching you too. So if you are sitting in front of your computer without any clothing on right now, put your pants back on and stop that sinful activity right now, young man! Oh my, that is so funny! Seriously, I must leave you now but I hope you will heed my helpful advice. Remember that you will always be in my prayers. Farewell, and I hope to send you another message at some point in the future."

Should His Holiness find success with this unorthodox method of reaching out to young people on World Youth Day, I can only assume that this would be the next logical step: (Click on image for more detail.)

I am definitely going to Hell for this.

iPope 1.0 released

2008-05-07T20:58:00.001-05:00

Actual News Item:

SYDNEY (Reuters) - Pope Benedict will text message thousands of young Catholics on their mobile phones during World Youth Day in Sydney in July, hoping going digital will help him connect better with a younger audience.

Even though I'm not Catholic, I think it's great that the Pontiff is adapting to 21st century technology. Since Joseph Ratzinger became Benedict XVI, many spiritually progressive types have been hoping that he would embrace a historic opportunity for the church to finally get with the times, modernize, shake off the dust, roll some bones, and pry open some of those old dungeon doors. Well according to the Reuters article, that seems to be exactly what's happening, and I can only guess that an IM from His Holiness might look something like this:

OMG HEY PPL, IZ ME DA BIG GUY. SRY CANT C/U FTF, BUT GR8 2T2Y ANYHOO. U KNO MY A/S/L ATM? IM PRKED RITE OUTSIDE YR HOUSE IN THE POPE M/B!!!!! HAHA J/K, BUT I GOT A MSG 4U FR JESUS - DONT BE A H8R, LOL! B SURE 2 GIVE LOTS OF H&K TO YR GF/BF, BUT ALWAYS DTRT, THAT MEANS NO 420, PRON, OR SEX 4SURE!! HTG!! NOT JUS CUZ YPAW, BUT GIW TOO! SO IF YR NIFOC RITE NOW, PYPO & QUIT IT, DUDE!! ROFLMAO!! OK, I G2G, BUT THATS MY .02 AND UR AIMP. CIAO & TTYL, RATZ

If Pope Benedict is able to get some props from teens as a result of this approach, I hope he will use his newfound street cred to go after Christian Rock, which is an oxymoron if ever there was one. When Jesus returns, I personally think He might be a big fan of Pearl Jam.

Necesito un alka-seltzer, por favor

2008-05-05T05:01:00.001-05:00

We're back! Happy Cinco de Mayo from Wind In The Wire.

We've timed our glorious return to the Blog Space in honor of this auspicious occasion. Now, I realize that some people may possibly confuse Cinco de Mayo with a similar ethnic holiday also celebrated in the spring, St. Patrick's Day, but we are here to set the record straight once and for all: St. Patty's Day is generally observed on March 17th, and involves a great deal of celebration and partying by getting totally drunk out of your mind on Guinness Stout, while in comparison, Cinco De Mayo is observed on May 5th (generally speaking) and involves a great deal of celebration and partying by getting totally drunk out of your mind on Jose Cuervo Tequila. This is an important distinction.

But seriously, today is a very important day in Mexican history, as it commemorates the historically significant ~~birthday of,~~ ~~day of independence,~~ er, I mean Battle of ~~Hastings,~~ ~~New Orleans,~~ ~~The Bulge,~~ um, well actually, I'm not sure; maybe one of these folks knows what Cinco de Mayo marks:

Ha ha! We're just kidding! Of course any fool knows that Cinco De Mayo is primarily a regional and not an obligatory federal holiday which marks the initial victory of Mexican forces led by General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín over French forces in the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862, a date observed in the United States and other locations around the world as a celebration of Mexican heritage and pride. Furthermore, any flea-brain yahoo will tell you that a common misconception in the United States is that Cinco de Mayo is Mexico's Independence Day; Mexico's Independence Day is actually September 16 (i.e., dieciséis de septiembre), which is the most important national patriotic holiday in Mexico.

And naturally, it goes without saying (as any five-year old kindergarten student is well aware), that although the Mexican army was victorious over the French at Puebla, the victory only delayed the French invasion of Mexico City, and the French occupied Mexico a year later, during which time French occupying forces placed Maximilian I, Emperor of Mexico, on the throne, but the French were eventually defeated and expelled in 1867, and Maximilian was executed by President Benito Juarez five years after the Battle of Puebla.

I mean, who doesn't know that?? C'mon!

So in the spirit of this day marking the defeat of French forces by the Mexican Army, this blog sternly advises you to step away from that croissant and glass of wine, Francois, and have some chips, salsa, a big ol' burrito and some cerveza instead. But when you wake up tomorrow morning and face the prospect of going to work with a God-awful hangover after a night of partying, eating, dancing and drinking, just don't refer to today as "Sicko De Mayo".

Arriba!

Worst album cover, ever?

2008-05-01T12:16:00.000-05:00

If only the human race could be so lucky. Oh noooooooooo, there's more.

For Shelly

2008-04-30T14:57:00.001-05:00

I was greatly saddened recently to learn of the death of a fellow blogger in Oregon. I first heard from Shelly around the end of 2005, when she found my blog after searching for one of my keywords ("pulmonary fibrosis"). She wrote me:

I found your blog when I first started this thing last month. I was interested in PF and lung disease in general, that's how I found you. It was a coincidence that I found your writing interesting, as I too am a free thinker (I prefer that to dirty liberal) and thought your musings.....for lack of a better word, amusing!

As this message hints, we shared a number of things in common besides the fact that both of us had pulmonary fibrosis, including a sarcastic (some might say "twisted") sense of humor and a general disdain for George W. Bush. For the next couple of years, we continued to send each other links to the latest news about current research and developments in lung disease, updates on the current state of our health, not to mention the occasional poop joke.

Shelly's illness was, unfortunately, much worse than mine due to the fact that she had suffered from rheumatoid arthritis since the age of 15, and large doses of prednisone over the years caused her to gain weight which further contributed to her lung problems. Nevertheless, she was one of the most positive, funny, upbeat people I've ever known. For the last year of her life, she was in the process of qualifying for a lung transplant (which involved a diet and exercise regimen) and was excited about the new opportunities a transplant would bring her. She was well aware of the seriousness of her condition, but her holiday greeting for 2007, while expressing a prescient fear that this might be the last Christmas she would spend with her family, also contained this message of optimism:

I just wanted to wish you a very happy and safe Christmas. May you and your families be blessed with a wonderful evening, eat too much, spoil your loved ones, and remember to tell those special people how much you love them and what they mean to you. For me, here's to a new year! To a second chance! No more oxygen hoses and scooters. No more being scared to go out for long and having people stare at me! Oh and no more Atkins diet!!! Here's to walking my dog and fishing with my daddy! Road Trips with Mike. To taking my nieces to the park or even Disneyland! Here's to camping and SWIMMING! Oh and to sitting near a burning candle!

TO NEW LUNGS & FRESH AIR!

She was supposed to go to Seattle last month for her pre-transplant medical evaluation, and hoped to be placed on the waiting list for new lungs shortly thereafter. However, when I checked her web site recently to see how the visit had gone, I was shocked to learn that her condition had deteriorated very rapidly after the holidays, and she passed away on February 24. She was only 32 years old.

So here's to Shelly; may she rest in peace, and my deepest condolences go out to her friends and family. It was her custom to close every message and blog post with the following words, so it seems most appropriate for me to end this post with them as well:

"Life is not measured by the breaths we take...but by the moments that take our breath away!"

The Incredible Vanishing Toast

2008-04-25T13:25:00.002-05:00

In case anyone's wondering, I haven't given up on the blog -- yet anyway -- I've just been having some motivation problems lately. The Muse has left the building. But I promise to put down the remote control and the bag of Chips Ahoy, get my lazy ass up off the couch, and actually write something semi-meaningful here soon, I promise.

Tiger's tale

2008-04-06T20:41:00.000-05:00

Any feline fanciers reading this blog may be glad to know that our cat Tiger came home Friday afternoon from the vet and seems to be doing OK. We've learned a lot about FLUTD as a result of this experience, and found that it's much more common than we realized. Our vet has had three cats with urinary blockages brought in during the last week or two, and they all had been on a diet of Meow Mix dry formula; if you have a cat, I would strongly suggest feeding it something else.

Our own cat food budget is about to explode, as our vet has recommended keeping Tiger on Hill's S/D and C/D prescription diet, which is specially formulated to keep his urinary pH level slightly acidic (6.2-6.4) to prevent the formulation of struvite crystals (the main cause of potentially fatal feline urinary tract blockages). It's a delicate balance, as if the pH goes too low, a different type of crystal affecting the kidney can be formed. The S/D is about a buck-fifty per can, but it's worth it if it will keep Tiger healthy.

We also learned that canned food is generally better for cats than dry food, as the extra moisture goes a long way towards preventing urinary problems. In fact, wet food is even preferred over prescription-formulated kibble. Taking it one step further, many vets also recommend that even if you do feed your cat only canned food, add about an extra teaspoon of water to the dish and mix it with the food into something resembling a slurry before you give to your cat. You can't get too much moisture into their diet.

We're happy that Tiger is doing better, but the down side is that for the next two weeks we are having to give him four pills a day, consisting of a muscle relaxant and an antibiotic dose twelve hours apart. For those who have never had the joyful experience of pilling a cat, the procedure goes something like this:

1. Pick up cat and cradle it in the crook of your left arm, as if holding a baby. Position right forefinger and thumb on either side of cat's mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right hand. As cat opens mouth, pop pill into mouth. Allow cat to close mouth and swallow.

2. Retrieve pill from floor and cat from behind sofa. Cradle cat in left arm and repeat process.

3. Retrieve cat from bedroom and throw soggy pill away.

4. Take new pill from foil wrap, cradle cat in left arm holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force jaws open and push pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut for a count of ten.

5. Pry claws from back legs out of your arm. Go get the cat from top of wardrobe, pick up half-dissolved pill from floor and drop it into garbage can. Call partner from den.

6. Kneel on floor with cat wedged firmly between knees. Hold front and rear paws. Ignore low growls emitted by cat. Get partner to hold head firmly with one hand while forcing wooden ruler into mouth. Drop pill down ruler and rub cat's throat vigorously.

7. Retrieve cat from curtain rail, get another pill from foil wrap. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered figurines and vases from hearth and set to one side for gluing later.

8. Wrap cat in large towel and get partner to lie on cat with head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of drinking straw, force mouth open with pencil and blow down drinking straw.

9. Check label to make sure pill not harmful to humans, drink one beer to take taste away. Apply band-aid to partner's forearm and immediately remove blood from carpet with cold water and soap.

10. Retrieve cat from neighbor's shed. Get another pill. Open another beer. Place cat in cupboard and close door onto neck to leave only head showing. Force mouth open with dessert spoon. Flick pill down throat with a rubber band.

11. Fetch screwdriver from garage and put cupboard door back on hinges. Drink beer. Fetch bottle of scotch. Pour shot and drink. Apply cold compress to cheek and check records for date of last tetanus shot. Apply whiskey compress to cheek to disinfect. Toss back another shot. Throw tee-shirt away and fetch new one from bedroom.

12. Call fire department to retrieve the friggin' cat from tree across the road. Apologize to neighbor who crashed into fence while swerving to avoid cat. Take last pill from foil wrap.

13. Tie cat's front paws to rear paws with garden twine and bind tightly to leg of dining room table. Find heavy-duty pruning loves from shed. Push pill into mouth followed by large piece of fillet steak. Be rough about it. Hold head vertically and pour a pint of water down throat to wash pill down.

14. Consume remainder of scotch. Get partner to drive you to emergency room, sit quietly while doctor stitches fingers and forearm and removes pill remnants from right eye. Stop at furniture shop on way home to pick out new table.

15. Arrange for SPCA to collect mutant cat. Call local pet shop to see if they have any hamsters.

-0-

Seriously, we would never trade Tiger for a hamster, as we love him even though he's pretty damn useless right now ... although not quite as useless as this cat.

On a totally unrelated topic, let me leave you with this useless joke: A Viennese fellow is walking along the Karntner Strasse and notices a banana peel lying in his path. "Alas," he sighs, "now I must slip and fall down!"

Week of Suck

2008-04-02T23:25:00.003-05:00

Things have not been peaches and cream in Toasterville this week. To start off with, while in Houston last week for my usual round of medical tests for my pulmonary fibrosis, it was discovered that my amylase and lipase numbers were out of whack, so there's apparently a chance I could be developing pancreatitis. Oh, joy: that's just what I need on top of a major lung disease. I'm supposed to have some more bloodwork done in a few days and we'll see where this goes, but it's possible that the first test could have been a fluke. Time will tell; keep your fingers crossed.

Mostly, however, at the moment we're worried about Tiger (below), one of our three cats, who is in the vet hospital as I write this. As they get older, male cats are particularly susceptible to a condition known as Feline Lower Urinary Tract Disease, or FLUTD. It's most serious complication occurs when crystals or calcified stones form in the bladder which then get stuck in and obstruct the cat's urinary tract, leaving it unable to pee. Toxins build up quickly, and if the situation isn't recognized and the blockage treated right away, the cat can die within hours. It's a very serious condition, and one of the top three killer diseases (along with kidney failure and feline leukemia) in domestic cats.

Late Saturday night, we became aware that Tiger was showing symptoms of a blockage and seemed to be in pain. Fortunately, our vet was on-call for the weekend, and we made an emergency trip to her clinic where she unblocked Tiger with a catheter and kept him under observation until Monday. It was a close call; another few hours could have been fatal. After he came back home, we thought he was out of the woods ... until yesterday, when his symptoms reappeared. However, we were watching him closely as we knew exactly what to look for this time, and got him right back to the vet. The second trip will mean having to leave the catheter in place for a couple of days to give his system more time to clear out the crystals, and treatment with antibiotics and other medicine. Even so, there's no guarantee it still won't happen again; some cats are just predisposed to it -- genetics, perhaps -- and it's possible this could be the case with Tiger. In any event, assuming all goes well, we should be able to bring him home on Friday, and it's very likely that we'll have to keep him on a special diet from now on.

I have to tell you the little guy is a fighter, though, and I have high hopes that he's going to make it. I'll never forget the first time we saw him in our back yard, nearly seven years ago. As best as we can figure, some asshat with an aversion to taking kittens to the animal shelter had dumped him and his three sisters over the chain link fence into our yard, where they had been living under our tool shed for a few weeks or possibly longer. By this time they were on the very edge of feral, and it took us nearly another month to coax them out and allow us to feed them. To get them out from under the cold, dirty shed I built a big wooden shelter box (complete with a shingled roof and carpeted sun porch!) for them and put it right outside our back door, and they soon adopted it. Often I would turn on the back porch light during the night to check on them, and laugh to see four little heads pop up like furry jacks-in-the-box from inside the shelter.

During that period when they were learning to trust us, but not quite sure yet, Tiger was always the alpha male, and seemed to relish the role of "man of the family". He would bravely take the lead when they approached us, standing protectively between us and his sisters while meowing defiantly. Eventually they came to accept us, and we were able to move them safely indoors. We found homes for two of them, but kept Tiger and his sister Callie (the tortoise-shell in the photo), and they've been beloved members of our family ever since. We've acquired one more in the meantime, and now have a happy three-cat household.

So that's what is seriously bugging me this week. Oh, and let's also not forget (a) the screen on my less-than-a-year-old iPod clone (a Sansa e250) cracked today, rendering it a $90 paperweight; (b) I took the first whack at our income taxes last night, and we may have to cough up the better part of a thousand bucks to dear ol' Uncle Sam; (c) I've been told the ToastMobile needs a new set of tires a.s.a.p., which means I'll have to pull yet another $500 out of my ass somehow; (d) Mrs. T. learned on Monday that a University field trip which had been scheduled for next year, where she would have presented papers at two prestigious international library conferences in Korea and Taiwan, was canceled due to lack of funding, and; (e) my dear Blogger friend and fellow cookie-lover Moose is struggling with the trauma of a major breakup.

And shit, folks, it's only Wednesday.

The stars must not be in proper alignment this week; hope things are going better for you.

Shocking Photo!

2008-03-31T16:27:00.001-05:00

WiTW Exclusive!

GIANT MONSTER PIGEON ATTACKS GALVESTON HOTEL!

A young boy is shown about to fearlessly jump on the back of the gigantic flying beast in this exclusive pic taken by Mr. Toast during a brief mini-vacation last weekend in Galveston, Texas. However, shortly after this photo was snapped the colossal Columba Livia Domestica took flight and was last seen heading out over the Gulf of Mexico. Florida beware!

The Seal Deal

2008-03-27T20:15:00.007-05:00

Judging by the reaction to Tuesday's pig post, today's entry should really get y'all worked up ... and I sincerely hope it does.

Friday, March 28 begins the season when hundreds of thousands of Harp Seal pups -- many only 12 to 15 days old -- will be brutally clubbed to death in the Gulf of St. Lawrence near Newfoundland during the annual Canadian Seal Hunt; the ice will run red with blood in the largest slaughter of marine mammals on Earth. The main method of killing seals is with a hakapik, a heavy wooden club with a hammer head and metal hook on the end. The use of guns is also allowed, but the hakapik is preferred because the seal can be killed without damage to its pelt. The hammer head is used to crush the skull, while the hook is used to move the carcass. Because time is of the essence, hunters attempt to kill and skin as many animals in as short a time as possible, resulting in many seals being wounded but managing to escape back into the water where they die a slow and painful death, or often being skinned while still alive.

Even though this cruelty has been condemned world-wide for years by many animal rights organizations including the Humane Society, the Canadian government continues to staunchly defend the barbaric practice largely for economic reasons. But there is much skepticism regarding these claims. "The seal hunt provides very low economic returns for Canada, Newfoundland and individual sealers," reports the Humane Society. "In light of the negative impact the seal hunt has on Canada's international reputation, its continuation cannot be justified on economic grounds."

This year's slaughter has had a new and alarming additional development: the Canadian government has denied journalists and animal rights activists permits to observe and document the hunt tomorrow morning, even though observation of the seal hunt is a right guaranteed under the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. Read Wayne Pacelle's blog post for more information.

I've had to think long hard about this in light of my previous post, and to be honest, it's been a bit troubling for me; am I a hypocrite to be so strongly opposed to the slaughter of baby seals in Canada, while at the same time being blasé about killing baby pigs in Texas? After all, the seal hunters would probably cite some of the same reasons for their actions as I did in my recent post about the pigs: they could argue that the seals are overpopulated and they're just keeping their numbers under control, or that the seals are a nuisance and do much economic damage by decimating crops -- codfish -- that are normally harvested for human consumption, or (correctly) claim that the hunt is legal and protected by the government. So what's the difference? Is it because seals are cute, furry and lovable while hogs are ugly, hairy, and smelly? Is it because my rural relatives have been personally affected by feral hogs, while I don't know anyone directly involved with seals? Is it because I've eaten pork products all my life (sorry, veggers) while I would never -- ever -- consume seal meat? I'm not sure, but I am cognizant of the fact that this double standard doesn't leave me on very solid moral ground, and anyone reading this is fully justified to call me on it.

Nevertheless, I am still horrified about the carnage that will be taking place on Friday, and have added my signature to a letter to the Canadian Prime Minister at stopthesealhunt.org. I urge you to do so too, or if you feel so inclined, join the boycott of Canadian seafood and other products.

Because this little guy needs your help.

Update 3/30/08 - Hunt Turns Tragic

Three sealers have died and one other is missing and presumed drowned after their fishing vessel capsized while being towed through rough ice by the Canadian Coast Guard on Saturday. The accident occurred off Cape Breton NS while the boat was on its way to cull seal herds in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Several hours later, seven more sealers had to be rescued by helicopter when their boat began taking on water and sank. The incidents prompted a fresh wave of appeals from conservationists for Canada to call off its annual seal hunt once and for all.

This little piggie went to market

2008-03-25T08:31:00.001-05:00

Hope everyone had a great Easter weekend! We visited the brother-and-sister-in-law, who live on sixty acres of pasture land out in the country near Austin. As is the case with many Texas farmers, ranchers, and other landowners, wild hogs are a big problem for them. The population of feral pigs has exploded in the Lone Star State in the last few years and is now estimated at between two and four million. Once a sow reaches breeding age at 7 or 8 months, she can produce up to one thousand piglets during her lifetime. At full growth they average 100 to 150 pounds, but in certain regions can reach up to 500-600 pounds. Among many forms of destructive behavior, feral pigs tear up fences, destroy crops with their rooting and wallowing, compete with native deer for food sources, carry disease and parasites, and some even kill lambs and other livestock.

To try and get rid of them, my brother-in-law has contracted with a local trapper who will catch and haul them off for free in exchange for their meat, which is supposedly even tastier than domestic pork. While we were there, they nabbed two adult swine and several piglets. Easter Ham, anyone?

This week in history

2008-03-20T12:10:00.001-05:00

Last weekend was my and Mrs. Toast's anniversary, and without disclosing exactly how long we've been married, let me just say that our wedding happened sometime during the Reagan administration. Yes, we may be old, but we're funky. True story: when Mrs. Toast's father realized how much it was going to cost him to marry off his (second!) daughter at a big fancy church wedding, he jokingly offered to pay for a trip to Hawaii if we would agree to elope to Las Vegas instead. Much to his surprise, we took him up on it, and spent our honeymoon at Kauai's legendary Coco Palms Resort, where Elvis filmed "Blue Hawaii" in 1961. At the hotel, Don Ho even personally sang "Tiny Bubbles" to us while actual bubbles from some sort of special-effects bubble machine hidden in the ceiling landed in our dinner salads. It was so awesome I nearly cried, mainly because the salads cost $8.99 each and the bubbles did not exactly enhance their flavor.

Anyway, having become naturally accustomed to the high-roller lifestyle as a result of this experience, we splurged for a mini-vacation here last weekend. Now one might think that such luxe surroundings would be more than enough to celebrate 20-some-odd years of wedded bliss, but no! I still had a trick up my sleeve -- I took my dear wife out for dinner to a restaurant which featured this sign prominently displayed over the front door:

Pretty damn classy, eh? Bring on the Margaritas!

Oh my God, it's full of stars!

2008-03-19T21:19:00.004-05:00

I was saddened to learn of the passing of one of my childhood inspirations, science-fiction writer extraordinaire Arthur C. Clarke, who died today at the age of 90 at his home in Sri Lanka from breathing problems associated with post-polio syndrome, which he had battled for years. Known for such classic novels as "Earthlight", "Islands in the Sky", and "The Hammer of God" among many others, he will no doubt best be remembered for "2001: A Space Odyssey", and his collaboration with Stanley Kubrick to produce the movie of the same name. Those of a particular age and proclivity will recall "2001" as one of those rite-of-passage films best experienced under the influence of certain, shall we say, "attitude-enhancements", which had a tendency to cause the viewer to exclaim "Oh, wow!" during various pivotal scenes. Nevertheless, even if one didn't indulge, it was still a mind-bending flick on many levels.

Like the scientist/author Sir Fred Hoyle before him, Clarke often wrote about a technologically advanced but prejudiced mankind being confronted by a superior alien intelligence. Not only a brilliant and creative writer, he was also a futurist; in 1945 he predicted the idea of communications satellites in geosynchronous orbit, and advanced the idea of space travel long before rockets were even test-fired.

He wrote his shortest-ever story in 2006 as an entry to Wired magazine's "Very Short Story" contest. The entire text ("God said, 'Cancel Program GENESIS.' The universe ceased to exist.") was four words longer than the contest rules allowed, but he refused to trim it.

Last year at his 90th birthday celebration, he was asked how he would like to be remembered. "I have had a diverse career as a writer, underwater explorer and space promoter," he replied. "Of all these I would like to be remembered as a writer."

And that he shall. Open the pod bay doors, Hal.

The Hooker and the Governor

2008-03-18T13:49:00.002-05:00

Hi there, friends! I'm ashamed to say that it's been nearly two weeks since I last posted, which means I have entirely missed out on blogging about the Eliot Spitzer affair -- an event custom-made for snarky wise cracks if ever there was one. But better late than never, as they say, so let me make a couple of observations:

• I've read many comments along the lines of "Is anyone/anything really worth $3,000 an hour?" Obviously The Gov thought so, however to put this in perspective, that rate comes to an annual salary of roughly $6.2 million (assuming a 40 hour week and paid vacations). So, to see who else might be getting that sort of money, I consulted Forbes Magazines' 2007 survey of the highest-paid CEO's in the corporate world and found that their average annual compensation was $15.2 million -- or about the cost of two 7-diamond escorts and one somewhat skankier 3-diamond model. The top dog on the list was Apple CEO Steve Jobs at $646.6 million, followed by Ray Irani of Occidental Petroleum at $321.6 million, and one could make the argument that they've been screwing the public for years. Of course, whether the Chief Escort Officers on the Forbes list are actually worth that amount is another question. Ashley Alexandra Dupre earned outstanding performance reviews from her clients, probably higher than Wal-Mart CEO H. Lee Scott Jr., for example, who brought home $9 million in '06 while his company's stock tanked.

• The high cost of "Kristin's" er, "professional services" naturally lends itself to all sorts of jokes. This blog is of course way too classy to print such things (hah!), however anyone so inclined can go here for some suitably ribald humor. (Caution: not only unsafe for work, but tasteless too; don't say I didn't warn you.)

• Ms. Dupre may have made the understatement of the year when she called her father the day after Emperor's Club VIP was busted to say that she "was in a little bit of trouble." However, she's also shown herself to be a resourceful girl, turning lemons into lemonade by using her 15 minutes of fame to promote her MySpace site and singing career. She better get on the ball fast though, for as Bloomberg.com points out, "Sadly, you've already used up six and a half minutes of it with two underwhelming songs." Like many others, I downloaded "What We Want" and "Move Ya Body", thinking they might make an interesting addition to my radio show next week. However, I quickly discarded that idea after listening to them, because to be perfectly honest, they suck.

Which, when you think about it, is highly appropriate.

He Came, He Saw, He Caucused, He Went Home

2008-03-05T19:27:00.001-06:00

Last night I added another item to my list of "things I've now done that I never did before" -- I participated in a presidential caucus. It was quite interesting, and became sort of a "Politics 101" lesson for me on how delegates are chosen to attend the party's national conventions. I had always watched the huge crowds waving their state signs and candidate banners every four years on TV, but never gave a whole lot of thought to exactly how they got there.

Feeling a bit unsure of what to expect, I arrived at the precinct meeting place shortly after the polls closed at seven; turnout appeared fairly light, with about 25 or so people there. There were two sign-in sheets, one for each candidate, and after entering our names to indicate whom we had voted for earlier, about half of those who had showed up left immediately. (Amateurs!)

The meeting was called to order with about 12 of us left, and we then learned that our sign-in vote tally had split right down the middle, with 13 warm bodies there for Obama and 14 for Clinton. We therefore got to split the six delegates allocated to our precinct 50/50, at three each. Supporters of the two candidates then gathered on each side of the room to introduce ourselves to each other and discuss who would like to represent Barack at the county and district conventions on March 29. At these meetings, representatives will be elected from the precinct delegates to attend the state convention in Austin on June 6 & 7. Attendees at the state event will then select the 193 pledged delegates allotted to Texas to attend the Democratic National Convention. So, it's entirely possible that some of us there last night will have the opportunity in August to go to Denver in support of Barack.

Since my oxygen equipment makes travel a bit problematic to me, I deferred to the other folks in our little group who were more than happy to volunteer as delegates. Demographically, our bunch was a nice cross-section: two "young" (20's) white folks, one each male and female, an older white gentleman who appeared in his 70's, two middle-age black ladies, and a black man who looked to be in his 30's. All of us seemed intelligent, articulate, and motivated to get involved in the political process, and we enjoyed talking about the issues and our hope that Obama could provide the leadership to move the country forward. I did sign up as an alternate delegate, so in case one of the chosen three can't make it, I may be asked to step in.

As I went to bed last night, Texas was still "too close to call" but Sen. Clinton was doing well elsewhere. Today, I awoke to the discouraging news that the race will be slogging on for months to come, as Hillary won Texas, Ohio and Rhode Island -- re-energizing her campaign and bringing Barack's momentum to a screeching halt despite his Vermont victory. This unfortunately means that the two Democratic rivals will now continue to waste time, money, energy, and most critically, voter confidence by attacking each other in a divisive effort that will only weaken the real goal of defeating John McCain in November. So while I feel good about becoming involved in the phonebanking and caucusing during the last few days, I'm pretty damn frustrated with the end result.

Welcome to Politics 101.

The big day is here at last!

2008-03-04T07:14:00.002-06:00

Hot damn y'all, I'm excited today to be smack-dab in the middle of what could be the most decisive day of the Democratic primary contest. Not only is the Lone Star state playing a huge role in the nomination this year, but according to the Wall Street Journal, my own little chunk of East Texas from Houston to Tyler is being watched especially closely. Bill Clinton himself was even in town last week stumping for his wife, which is practically unheard of in our little hole-in-the-wall. We seldom get anyone that important here, but seeing as how most pundits are speculating that Hillary's campaign is over if she doesn't score big in Texas today, I shouldn't be that surprised. You've been (and will no doubt continue to be) bombarded with news from all sources about events here, so I'm not sure what else I can uniquely add to it, but I'll just say it's been very interesting for me to be politically involved this year in a way I haven't been for decades.

This weekend I've made a few phone calls on behalf of the Obama campaign, and will begin making a bunch more here shortly to encourage people to go vote today. It's been easy; they have a very cool web-based contact tool that allows you to make as few or as many calls as you care to (or have time for) once you register and log in. You're assigned numbers to call in your neighborhood in blocks of 20, and as you speak with folks and determine who they're supporting you simply click on large buttons next to their name on the web site to report their status back to the campaign HQ. Of course the idea is to encourage them to vote for Obama, and there are some sample script pages you can use if you're not comfortable ad-libbing. However if the person you're speaking with wants more detailed information about Obama's stand on the issues than you feel qualified to discuss with them, you can refer them to the web site or a more knowledgeable volunteer. It's all very highly organized, and fun too. You're awarded points for the number of calls you make, with the goal being to get your name in the Top 10 callers -- kind of like putting your initials at the top of the "high score" list of a video game.

So far I've mainly gotten a lot of answering machines, but have also had a few interesting conversations. Not surprisingly, since this is a red state (and a fairly conservative Christian area at that), I've talked to one or two staunch Republicans. I don't debate them, just record their preferences and say thank you. I did run across one elderly-sounding woman, however, who claimed to be a Democrat but was under the impression that Obama was "one of them Muslims". I hope I was able to straighten her out.

As I work the phones, I'm also telling people about the "Texas Two-Step", which seems to have a lot of folks confused. Texas residents get to participate in a unique process for assigning delegates; first is the regular voting today, then after the polls close this evening we get to "caucus". I have never "caucused" before in my life, so I'm very interested in what it's all about. I had always imagined a caucus as being a bunch of hard-core politico-wonks getting together in a smoke-filled room to strut their influence and make deals, but it's simply another word for convention. Specifically, in this case it's an ad-hoc meeting of those who have voted in the primary to stand up for their candidate; as a result, roughly 30% of unpledged delegates will be assigned via the caucus. In a way, it's almost like getting to vote twice, and as close as this race is predicted to be it could make a real difference.

So tonight I'm gonna caucus, baby! Woo-hoo! I'll head back to the polling location about 7:15 PM and sign in under the name of the my candidate, and then we'll see what happens next. If nothing else, it should at least be good for a blog post.

Back to the phones. Hello?

Superdelegates, explained

2008-02-28T14:25:00.000-06:00

I discovered "Red State Update" today, a series of tongue-in-cheek parodies of redneck politics. (Sadly, even though it's a joke, some folks actually think like this.) But we won't worry about that now; Jackie and Dunlap finally clear up the confusion behind those mysterious "Superdelegates", and delve into the heretofore unspoken relationship between politics and comic books. Damn, this stuff cracks me up.

Thanks and a special tip o' the Toast hat to Gwen at The Super Happy FunTime Blog!

Never fear, Cap'n Toast is here

2008-02-27T18:51:00.002-06:00

As the Texas primary looms closer on March 4th, I've been getting increasingly urgent messages from my good buddy Barack Obama. He's been very pleased to tell me how well things are going, and how he's been kicking Hilary's ass. (Actually, I believe the exact phrase he used was "we're on a roll" but I knew what he really meant.) More excitingly, Obama's campaign recently wrote to offer me the chance to become a Precinct Captain here in my little corner of East Texas. According to the email:

Signing up as an Obama Precinct Captain means making a personal commitment to the campaign. But along with that commitment comes the opportunity to be a big part of our strategy in Texas. Here's what Obama Precinct Captains need to do:

* Identify Obama supporters in your community and recruit more -- campaign staff will provide you with a packet of resources to help

* Support Barack in your precinct on March 4th, 2008 and help mobilize neighborhood supporters to join you

You don't need any previous experience to sign up. You just need to support Barack and be ready to turn your energy and enthusiasm into action. It requires some responsibility, but don't worry -- we'll be here with all the materials, training, and support you'll need every step of the way.

I have to admit this seriously appeals to me, as back in my college days I used to be somewhat of a political activist. In 1968 I helped organize local protests against the Vietnam War, mobilized buses to take people to rallies in Washington, and even cut off my long hair to go "Clean for Gene" McCarthy. Yes, I was all the picture of fresh-faced, bright-eyed, clean-cut college student respectability as I canvassed door-to-door trying to get people to vote for him and answer any questions they had about his positions on the issues (at least as best as I understood them at the time). It was a real feeling of empowerment to recruit and mobilize and all that good stuff, and I felt like I was having an ever-so-small yet perceptible impact. McCarthy eventually failed to win the nod (Hubert Humphrey was nominated following the death of Robert Kennedy), but at least I was out there working for something I believed in. After all the talk of "change" this year, you may note that it was being used as a campaign theme 40 years ago.

The main problem for me now, however, is the physical exertion required for all that recruiting and mobilizing; it's not so easy tromping door-to-door when you're sucking on an oxygen canula. However, I can speak on the telephone without difficulty, so I've decided to contact the Obama team and offer to help in that regard. I suspect they'll be more than happy to have me make phone calls on their behalf for an hour or two each day.

You may find it surprising (at least, it certainly is to me) that after months of indecision I have come down firmly on the side of the Obama camp. I'm sure she's a fine person, but there's always been something about Hilary that has made me hesitate from the very beginning -- I can't tell you with any certainty exactly what that "something" is. Perhaps it's her "professional politician" aura that comes from years of association with a political dynasty (i.e., Kennedys, Clintons, Bushes, etc.), which makes me wonder if she'll say almost anything to get elected, or if she's in the race more for personal glory than for wanting to improve the state of the nation. Or maybe she just plain scares me. I get the distinct feeling that if I were to ever cross her, I would be extremely likely to have my balls cut off. That sort of strength might be a good thing when it comes to dealing with the dangers of the world a president has to face, but after suffering through eight years of one mini-dictator I'm not sure I'm ready for another one, even if she might be way more competent and benign than Shrubya.

Nope; I think the simple answer is that I've caught Obama Fever. I don't really know what kind of president he'll make, or if he'll get cooperation from Congress once the post-election honeymoon period is over, but I have a growing sense of optimism that things will be better, and sometimes you just gotta go with your gut.

As you surely know by now, Texas and Ohio have a major importance to the Democrats this time around which hasn't been seen in very many years; most primary balloting has established a clear front-runner by the time they get to us. If Obama continues his momentum and extends his winning streak here, you might as well stick a fork in Hilary's campaign: she'll be done. She can go back to serving her constituents in New York, write a book, and maybe take another shot at it in 2012. There's no doubt the Lone Star is a must-win for her, and if she is able to pull it out of the fire -- particularly in the unlikely event that she decisively pummels Obama by double digits -- it will give her new life and it's on to Mississippi a week later, then Pennsylvania in April. But personally, I believe that Obama is unstoppable at this point.

But can he win the general election in November? A McCain-Obama matchup is going to be interesting, to say the least, and McCain is already taking direct aim at him as his presumptive opponent, stressing how his own combat and P-O-W experience makes him uniquely qualified for the role of commander-in-chief. "Where is the audacity of hope when it comes to backing the success of our troops all the way to victory in Iraq?" McCain said in a statement today after yesterday's Democratic debate in Cleveland, during which Obama pledged to end the war by 2009. "What we heard last night was the timidity of despair."

That kind of tough talk may appeal to those on the right, but Obama fired right back: "John McCain may like to say that he wants to follow Osama bin Laden to the gates of hell, but so far all he's done is follow George Bush into a misguided war in Iraq that has cost us thousands of lives and billions of dollars." Right on, as we used to say.

So we're getting ready for a good old-fashioned Texas slugfest down here next week. Early voting began Feb. 19th; I've already cast my ballot for Barack, and I'll be on the phone harassing, er, canvassing, potential voters between now and March 4th. Cap'n Toast reporting for duty -- let's rock.

Cheese Closure of the Pygmy Love Queen And Other Favorites

2008-02-22T17:30:00.002-06:00

Since a number* of readers of this blog are known to spend lots of time in Libraryland, I figured y'all might be interested in the following news item which I ran across today:

The Bookseller magazine has announced the shortlist for the Diagram Prize for Oddest Book Title of the Year. Here are the titles:

I Was Tortured By the Pygmy Love Queen

How to Write a How to Write Book

Are Women Human? And Other International Dialogues

Cheese Problems Solved

If You Want Closure in Your Relationship, Start With Your Legs

People who Mattered in Southend and Beyond: From King Canute to Dr Feelgood

Vote for your "favorite" in this poll; you may also wish to alert your acquisitions staff, as no doubt you'll be getting lots of requests for these titles at your own local library.

I'm certain that it was difficult for the editors to come up with only these six finalists, as there are so many to choose from every year. Who could resist curling up at night with last year's odd-title winner, the thrilling "Stray Shopping Carts of Eastern North America: A Guide to Field Identification". Then there's the classics, like "Fish Who Answer the Telephone" (1937), "Explosive Spiders and How to Make Them" (1881), "Manhole Covers of Los Angeles" (1974), or 1981's "New Guinea Tapeworms and Jewish Grandmothers: Tales of Parasites and People" by Robert S. Desowitz, of which one reader says, "Parasites are not only interesting study objects, but you can write very funny stories about them as well."

Turning to the ever-popular self-improvement category, we have such page-turners as "Leadership Secrets of Attila the Hun" (1995), "My Invisible Friend Explains the Bible" (1971), "Teach Yourself Alcoholism" (1973), and the intriguing "Sex After Death" (1983).

My personal favorite, however, has to be a lightweight treatise from 1954 entitled "The Coming Disaster Worse Than the H-bomb, Astronomically, Geologically and Scientifically Proven, The Coal Beds, Ice Ages, Tides, and Coming Soon, a Great Wave and Flood Caused by a Shift of the Axis of the Earth From the Gyroscopic Action of Our Solar System". I can't wait for this one to come out on DVD.

__________
* I believe that number is "two"

Rumblings in the Vast Wasteland

2008-02-20T13:53:00.001-06:00

Remember that big dusty box in the living room you used to sit and stare at for hours back in the good old days of 2007? I think it's called a "television set", and it's slowly coming back to life after months of reruns and reality shows. First to return with new material since the Hollywood writers strike was settled last week will be The CW's sitcom Aliens in America, which kicks off with eight original episodes beginning March 2. By April, most programs that are coming back this season will be on the air. Since sitcoms are produced with a shorter lead time, they'll initially make up the bulk of returning shows; dramas will begin showing up in late March.

Here's a list of announced returns, courtesy of The Miami Herald:

March 2: Aliens in America (The CW).

March 3: Everybody Hates Chris (The CW).

March 17: How I Met Your Mother (CBS); The Big Bang Theory (CBS); Two and a Half Men (CBS).

March 23: The Game (The CW)

March 24: CSI: Miami (CBS)

March 30: Cold Case (CBS)

April 2: Criminal Minds (CBS); CSI: New York (CBS)

April 3: My Name Is Earl (NBC); CSI (CBS); Without a Trace (CBS)

April 4: Ghost Whisperer (CBS); Numb3rs (CBS)

April 8: NCIS (CBS)

April 10: The Office (NBC); 30 Rock (NBC); Scrubs (NBC)

April 11: Moonlight (CBS)

April 14: One Tree Hill (The CW); Rules of Engagement (CBS)

April 15: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit (NBC)

April 21: Gossip Girl (The CW)

April 22: Reaper (The CW); Law & Order (NBC)

April 24: Supernatural (The CW)

Fox and ABC still haven't issued comprehensive lists of post-strike programming, although ABC will present new episodes of Desperate Housewives and Lost this spring. Some shows won't be back; for example, the CW has canceled entertainment-news program CW Now and sitcom Girlfriends. And the network hasn't ordered new episodes of family-on-safari drama Life Is Wild, an ominous sign. On the other hand, NBC has announced that its first-year dramas Chuck and Life won't be back this spring but have been renewed for the fall. Same goes for Fox's 24.

Other shows renewed for next season: ABC's Brothers & Sisters, Lost, Dirty Sexy Money, Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives, Ugly Betty, Private Practice, Samantha Who? and Pushing Daisies; CBS' The Big Bang Theory, Cold Case, Criminal Minds, Ghost Whisperer, NCIS, Two and a Half Men, Numb3rs, Without a Trace, and all 200 versions of CSI.

As for me, I can't say the writer's strike affected my viewing habits at all -- which mainly consist of The Daily Show, (endless!) reruns of Law and Order, and DVD movie rentals. Still, I'm glad the strike is over and scribes can go back to work earning their measly $50,000 per episode. It ain't easy, you know. To quote the late Hunter S. Thompson, "The TV business is uglier than most things. It is normally perceived as some kind of cruel and shallow money trench through the heart of the journalism industry, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free and good men die like dogs, for no good reason. There's also a negative side."

Love, and other forms of temporary insanity

2008-02-14T17:50:00.001-06:00

Today is the day many people have been waiting for all year: the day to tell their dearly beloved sweethearts how much they mean to them and how important they are, and buy them presents, candy and/or flowers. They might also get a cheap card for their husband or wife from Walgreens while they're at it.

Yes, today is the favorite holiday of cynics (who nearly always refer to Valentine's Day as "V.D."), those who believe in their hearts that the significance of the day is way overblown, hyped beyond all common-sense reality by a greedy floral and greeting-card industry who are trying to turn every calendar event (St. Patrick's day? Arbor Day, anyone? Bueller? Anyone?) into in excuse to purchase cards and gifts. These skeptics are quick to point out that Valentine's Day is the only holiday that features a weapon-wielding angel as a mascot, and will make comments such as:

"Valentines day is just another stupid holiday created by the manufacturing companies in compliance with jewelry, candy, and cards. They make you feel obliged to get something for the ones you love. PUH LEZZE! It's just another corrupt system using guilt on the people."

or

"I hate Valentine's Day with a passion. I would even go so far as to say that we should dig up Saint Valentine and martyr him all over again just for the fun of it."

Of course, it could be argued that these are simply the bitter words of sad, lonely, twisted souls who have failed in their relationships due to their own selfishness, and want to ruin the holiday for everyone else. Or, they might possibly have been subjected to this example of romance run amok, which cannot be watched for more than thirty seconds without one wanting to claw out their own eyeballs.

Another possibility could be that they have seen any of numerous recent items in the news which would tend to discourage even the most optimistic of romantics. For example, consider this story from Germany involving a woman who is suing a web site at which she auctioned herself off to the highest bidder for sex. Six men were "winners" of the contest, and one got her pregnant. Unfortunately, she didn't bother to get any of their names, so she's suing the site's operator for their identities so she can force the men to take paternity tests.

Meanwhile, in Seoul, South Korea, mobile phone provider KTF is offering their customers a service called the "Love Detector" which analyzes the voice patterns of the person you're speaking to, and displays a "love meter" bar on the screen of your handset during the call. "We created this service because we thought people would want to know what others were feeling about them," said Ahn Hee-jung, a KTF official. After the call is finished, the user receives an analysis of the conversation that breaks down the amount of affection, surprise, concentration and honesty of the other speaker.

In Charleston SC, WKLC-FM, also known as "Rock 105", is observing the holiday with a special Valentine's Day contest (as radio stations often do). The prize? A free divorce. The winner's name will be drawn at random from all entries, and Charleston lawyer Rusty Webb will handle the actual filing. "Sure we can give away concert tickets, and we do," said station Program Director Jay Nunley. "That's going to make you happy for a little while. This is the chance to make someone happy for the rest of their life."

Finally, if you happen to be one of those jaded, cynical, Anti-Valentine type of folks, I've got just the perfect job for you: UK Honey Traps, a private detective service based in Worcestershire in the heart of England, is looking for new recruits. Your work will take you to nightclubs and bars, where you'll be looking to strike up conversations, flirt, give out your phone number, and try to make future dates. The hitch is, you'll be targeting the husbands or wives of clients who pay you to test the loyalty of their partners, and will document the entire shameful affair for the client with hidden cameras and audio recorders. According to the web site, the agency is looking for "confident, bubbly, outgoing men and women with an ability to think on their feet." Becoming a honey trapper demands reliability, honesty and accuracy, it says, and because most of the trapping takes place outside office hours, it can offer "an ideal second career."

Happy Valentine's Day!

SuperFatTuesdayBowl

2008-02-05T22:42:00.000-06:00

I really have nothing to say about this, I just thought it would make a cool title for a blog post. Laissez Le Bon Temps Roulet!!

Dear New England Patriots:

2008-02-03T23:05:00.000-06:00

I wasn't going to write this letter to you, I swear. I'm not usually the sort of person to put their heart on their sleeve like this, but ....

How could you?

How could you have let me down this way, after we've been together for so long? I mean, not only have we been with each other for years, we practically grew up together! I was there for you when you needed me; remember those nights we spent in Fenway Park, way back in the good old days, before you moved to Foxborough? They were so very special for me, but I know now they must not have been for you. Even when things got tough, I made excuses for you to all my friends. "You know how guys are," I told them after that recent nasty videotaping incident. "They must have just been shooting the Jet's cheerleaders or something, and got the coach's signals by accident." How could I have been such a fool to let you use me like that? My God, I was so blind.

But today was the worst ever; you knew it was supposed to be our big day together. I had such great expectations, and was in such a good mood earlier this afternoon. Everything was ready at home, the food, the drinks, and my friends and I were all prepared to celebrate with you ... but then ... it was almost like you hardly bothered to show up. When you did, you seemed like, all defensive and stuff, and just didn't show me that magic "spark" that I'd seen so often before. Oh sure, you finally made an effort, but by then it was just way too little, too late.

I have to tell you how disappointed I am. You've hurt me so badly, and I've decided I just can't go on like this any more. So I'm sorry, but it's over between us. I may not have anyone else in my life right now, but I've got lots of time, and maybe by next season I'll find someone who knows how to treat me right and won't crush my dreams into the ground like a used cigarette butt, the way you did today.

I wish you luck, seriously. Even though we're through, I'll always remember the good times we had. In the meantime, I think you should know:

I'm fucking Matt Damon.

Weekend sing-along

2008-02-02T23:59:00.000-06:00

In case anyone hasn't yet seen this, here's Sarah Silverman's little video she made for the 5th anniversary of boyfriend Jimmy Kimmel's talk show the other night. Matt Damon finally gets revenge for the running gag where at the end of the show Kimmel goes "Apologies to Matt Damon, we ran out of time." This could be the funniest clip I've ever seen on network TV.

Unfortunately, now I can't get this fucking song (pun!) out of my head. (Note: I tried to find an "unbleeped" version of it for you, but there doesn't seem to be one. However, this video at least dumps the laugh track and has better-quality stereo sound than the YouTube clips.)

A winter poem

2008-01-26T18:58:00.001-06:00

Dearest readers...

As I sit by my cozy fire this weekend writing the blog and answering emails, I thought I would forward on to you an inspirational message I received from a close friend on this cold winters day.

I found this beautiful winter poem and thought it might be a comfort to you.

It was to me. It's very well written and I hope that you enjoy it too.

"WINTER"

by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre

Shit!
It's Cold!!

The End

"Secret Agent of Change" or, "Just Call Me Mr."

2008-01-23T15:29:00.000-06:00

You may recall -- unless you have a really short attention span, in which case you should click here -- that a few days ago I came up with what I thought would be a really nifty theme song for Barack Obama. By making this idea public on the blog, I may have even secretly hoped that the candidate himself might hear of it, and realizing that my brilliant mind could be a great asset to his organization, offer to employ me as his Media Director -- or at the very least his official Theme Songs Czar. Hey, I'm qualified: I enjoyed listening to Tom Lehrer back in the 60's, so I know the value of a cleverly satirical melody with political overtones.

But then I realized that anyone from the Obama group might have a difficult time finding my post without constructing a very specific search query, so I thought I might help bring it to their attention by writing them about it. There's a place on the "contact us" page of Obama's website for "other thoughts and questions" which would seem to be a highly appropriate place to address the topic of, "hey, you should check out this song that is guaranteed to make people boogie in the aisles at your campaign stops." (I'm all about the helping.) The form required me to enter my first and last name, so to avoid any possibility of confusion due to the fact that my real name would have no obvious connection to the blog, I typed "Last name: Toast", and "First name: Mr." into the contact form. I even hinted in my message that I was one of those "undecided" voters that candidates devote so much attention to, and that I might be persuaded to actually vote for Mr. Obama if he could adequately address some of my serious concerns about the future of this nation, for example:

• Appointing a presidential commission to study the possibility of designating beer as the "National Beverage of America", a panel for which I would gladly volunteer to be a member;

• Offering large lump-sum tax-free cash compensation as reparation to certain individuals who have suffered lasting psychological damage as a result of tragic past events in our nation's history -- and by "certain individuals", I am referring to readers of this blog;

• Sending Ann Coulter and Michelle Malkin to the Guantanamo Bay Terrorist Detention Center to investigate conditions there, and conveniently "misplacing" their return tickets home;

I have many more concerns, but these will do for starters.

To be honest, I really didn't expect much to happen; but amazingly, not long after clicking the "submit form" button, I'll be damned if I didn't get an e-mail reply! Although I must say I was initially a little disappointed, I still knew that someone had actually read my message and taken it under advisement, because the email was addressed to me personally!

Dear Mr.:

Thank you for contacting Obama for America, and sharing your ideas for Senator Obama. The volume of messages we are receiving has exceeded all expectations. While it is difficult to respond to thousands of messages a week as efficiently as we would like, the level of interest and nature of the comments reflected in these communications are very gratifying.

Barack knows well that Washington does not have a monopoly on good ideas, and neither does he. That is why it's important to hear from everyone, and we will take your ideas under consideration. Your thoughts on our campaign and America's future are deeply appreciated.

Do you see that, people? My thoughts are "deeply appreciated" by an actual presidential candidate! How cool is that? As if that wasn't enough, a few days later I received another email, this time no less than a personal message from Barack's wife, Michelle Obama. (I hope he doesn't mind his wife carrying on these conversations with total strangers on the internet; you know how freaky the web can be.) But as I read Michelle's letter to me, I realized that I actually had something special that she and the rest of the Obama organization urgently wanted:

Mr.:

Thank you so much for writing. Right now, all across the country, thousands of Americans are taking their seat at the table and shaping the outcome of this election. One of the more than 100,000 donors who have given in 2008 is promising to give again if you make your donation today. Now is the time to own a piece of this campaign. We are building up our organization to compete in all fifty states, and your gift will help us reach our goal.

And that "something" ... is money.

This week has seen regular correspondence from the Obama team asking me to input my thoughts, my ideas for the future, and most importantly, my cash. It is good to know that I'm such a valuable asset to the organization. Today I received a message from former presidential candidate Senator John Kerry, alerting me to a slime email that is circulating that claims Obama is a Muslim who refuses to recite the pledge of allegiance, as well as other falsehoods. I'll have to admit I was skeptical at first when I saw the return address "John Kerry" in my inbox and thought it might be spam, but the Senator again addressed me personally:

Dear Mr.,

I support Barack Obama because he doesn't seek to perfect the politics of Swiftboating -- he seeks to end it. This is personal for me, and for a whole lot of Americans who lived through the 2004 election.

As a veteran, it disgusts me that the Swift Boats we loved while we were in uniform on the Mekong Delta have been rendered, in Karl Rove's twisted politics, an ugly verb meaning to lie about someone's character just to win an election. But as someone who cares about winning this election and changing the country I love, I know it's not enough to complain about a past we can't change when our challenge is to win the future -- which is why we must stop the Swiftboating, stop the push-polling, stop the front groups, and stop the email chain smears.

This year, the attacks are already starting. Some of you may have heard about the disgusting lies about Barack Obama that are being circulated by email. These attacks smear Barack's Christian faith and deep patriotism, and they distort his record of more than two decades of public service. They are nothing short of "Swiftboat" style anonymous attacks.

These are the same tactics the right has used again and again, and as we've learned, these attacks, no matter how bogus, can spread and take root if they go unchecked.

We need you to email the truth to your address books. Print it out and post it at work. Talk to your neighbors. Call your local radio station. Write a letter to the editor. If lies can be spread virally, let's prove to the cynics that the truth can be every bit as persuasive as it is powerful.

Thank you,
John Kerry

[serious]
Kidding aside for a moment, this is an important issue, and if someone happens to forward you this particular slanderously distorted email, I hope you will reply with the facts and set them straight. The truth should be the truth, regardless of what your political leanings happen to be.
[/serious]

In conclusion, while there's been no definite word as to whether he wants to use my theme song suggestion, I'm still glad to know that I qualify for these regular updates from Senator Obama. Who knows, I might even vote for the guy, especially if he promises to investigate the conspiracy regarding the "Seabed Nectar" secret ingredient in Slusho, which causes people to burst open at the seams. (Do not drink Slusho! You have been warned!)

End could be in sight for TV writer's strike

2008-01-21T14:41:00.000-06:00

Encouraging news for TV fans over the weekend: the Director's Guild of America (DGA) has reached a tentative agreement with the studio conglomerates (AMPTP). The new terms set residuals on so-called "new media" which almost double the previous rates. While the striking Writers Guild (WGA) is a separate entity from the director's association, it has been widely speculated that any deal with the studios achieved by the DGA would serve as a template for the writers to reach a similar settlement.

The leadership of the Writer's Guild is closely examining the DGA deal, but issued a public statement today that I thought was a bit provocative, containing this less-than-conciliatory remark: "For over a month, we have been urging the conglomerates to return to the table and bargain in good faith. They have chosen to negotiate with the DGA instead."

Nevertheless, most rank-and-file members are optimistic about the terms of the DGA's contract. Noted director Oliver Stone said, "I've read the bullet points, and it is a step in the right direction, it shows that agreement is possible, and it brings a spirit of hope that hopefully will extend to the WGA and the AMPTP. If it is not taken in that spirit, that would be most unfortunate." Many Hollywood notables attending this week's Sundance Film Festival in Park City, UT, are also eager to go back to work. "I'm very pleased with the new [DGA] agreement and I hope it helps speed up the negotiations with the WGA," actor George Clooney said in a statement.

Talks between the writers and the studios, which have been at an impasse for weeks, could resume as early as tomorrow, according to Variety magazine. However, don't look for your favorite shows from before the strike to reappear any time soon. There has been much bad blood generated on both sides by the walkout, so it's likely that several more weeks of negotiations could pass before any agreement is hammered out. Also, the delay involved in ramping up the studios to begin production (even assuming that the writers already have scripts in their laptops that they've been withholding due to the strike) could be lengthy. Still, it looks like progress is finally being made.

Today's Bible lesson

2008-01-21T13:30:00.001-06:00

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth and populated the Earth with broccoli, cauliflower, and spinach, green and yellow and red vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.

Then, using God's great gifts, Satan created Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream and Krispy Creme Donuts. And Satan said, "You want chocolate with that?" And Man said, "Yes!" and Woman said, "and as long as you're at it, add some sprinkles." And they gained 10 pounds. And Satan smiled.

And God created the healthful yogurt that Woman might keep the figure that Man found so fair. And Satan brought forth white flour from the wheat, and sugar from the cane and combined them. And Woman went from size 6 to size 14.

So God said, "Try my fresh green salad." And Satan presented Thousand-Island Dressing, buttery croutons and garlic toast on the side. And Man and Woman unfastened their belts following the repast.

God then said, "I have sent you heart-healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them." And Satan brought forth deep-fried fish and chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter. And Man gained more weight and his cholesterol went through the roof.

God then created a light, fluffy white cake, named it "Angel Food Cake," and said, "It is good." Satan then created chocolate cake and named it "Devil's Food."

God then brought forth running shoes so that His children might lose those extra pounds. And Satan gave cable TV with a remote control so Man would not have to toil changing the channels. And Man and Woman laughed and cried before the flickering blue light and gained pounds.

Then God brought forth the potato, naturally low in fat and high in nutrition. And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fried them. And Man gained pounds.

God then gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and still satisfy his appetite. And Satan created McDonald's and its 99¢ double cheeseburger. Then said, "You want fries with that?" And Man replied, "Yes! And super-size them!" And Satan said, "It is good."

And Man went into cardiac arrest.

God sighed and created quadruple-bypass surgery.

Then Satan created HMOs....

(source: unknown)

Sofa-spud's lament

2008-01-17T15:28:00.001-06:00

As the Hollywood screenwriter's strike drones into its 11th week, the Writer's Guild (WGA) seems to be losing public support in its struggle with the studios. Initially, audiences expressed the most concern about missing the political satire they've come to love on late-night talk shows, but now that Letterman, Leno, Conan O'Brien, Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert have returned to the airwaves after negotiating independent agreements to continue their shows without their striking writers, public sentiment has largely turned to apathy. A recent survey of 1,000 adults conducted online by market research firm Synovate found that 75 percent are not very concerned or not concerned at all about the TV-viewing implications of the writers strike. Indeed, many people are openly hostile to the writers, feeling that their demands are unreasonable. For example, here's a sample of comments from the online edition of today's Miami Herald:

The real "damage" is what these writers generally do to standards of taste, imagination and experimentation by churning out week after week after week of recycled, formulaic, mindless crap. If this strike has driven even one shitcom couch potato or brain-dead housewife addicted to slop operas to read a book or go for a nice walk in the sunshine, it will be a net gain for audiences all over America.

-0-

It is good for the industry. Like a wildfire that clears the brush for new ground. Hopefully it forces most of the garbage shows and executives out of Hollywood and we get something better. How many serial killer shows can you watch. Stupid.

-0-

The shows can't get any more stupid or worse in their banality. The network bigwigs are already addleheaded coke fans (not the diet variety). Quick: name three tv shows that are made for people with an IQ above 100.

I guess as a blog writer, I should theoretically be in solidarity with the WGA but I'm having a hard time seeing their demands as realistic. The issues are complicated, and I don't pretend to understand them fully, but the crux of the disagreement deals with how writers will be compensated for programs appearing in "new media" such as Internet downloads, streaming, smart phones, etc. The studios want to continue to pay the same percentage of residuals that they negotiated for home video (VHS/DVD) content back in the mid-1980's, but the writers are in essence demanding a "do-over". They feel like they got short-changed 20 years ago; bitter and resentful ever since, they're now unwilling to make what they see as similar concessions for "new media" distribution. Plus, the writers are asking to be paid even for non-scripted programs such as reality shows (e.g., American Idol) where there is no pre-written dialogue, which doesn't seem right to me.

As is usual with most disagreements involving compensation, it comes down to how you define the word "fair". AMPTP president Nick Counter says: "We are ready to meet at any time and remain committed to reaching a fair and reasonable deal that keeps the industry working." Meanwhile, the WGA says: "Writers want to go back to work and will do so as soon as the AMPTP returns to the negotiating table and bargains a fair deal."

In the meantime, everyone loses -- the studios, the writers, the viewers, and most of all those people who support the television and film production industry such as cast and crew members, caterers, prop and costume rental companies, and the like. Recent estimates by ABC News put the loss to the industry at over a billion dollars so far. There is some hope that contract negotiations currently underway between the studios and the Director's Guild (DGA) will lead to a deal that will serve as a model to coax the writers and studios back to the table. "I hope it sets a good template for everybody," writer Leonard Dick said of the DGA talks, as he and about 200 others picketed outside Warner Brothers. "We want to put everybody back to work. My kids are sick of seeing me around the house."

How has the strike affected you? Are you watching less TV, or channel-surfing more instead of tuning in specific programs? Are you spending more time on the Internet or (gasp!) reading? Please comment.

Chikkin's Revenge

2008-01-11T19:04:00.001-06:00

Still yet more proof that I have way too much time on my hands: After ruminating on yesterday's post for a while, this fell out of my head today (with a little help from Photoshop).

There's nothing like the concept of interspecies annihilation to get the ol' creative juices flowing, I always say. I suspect this is one reason why some people are vegetarians.

Common-sense quote of the day

2008-01-11T13:00:00.000-06:00

"It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes."
- Douglas Adams

Eat Mor Chikin, Use Mor Kompewter

2008-01-10T17:51:00.000-06:00

So I'm in Houston today, having another round of pulmonary function tests. There's great news to report: my numbers are UP since last time -- woo hoo! My FVC (or Forced Vital Capacity, a primary measurement of lung health) has gone from 56% in October to 60% today. I will therefore dodge the transplant bullet for at least another three months.

What does this have to do with "chikin", you ask? After leaving the hospital this afternoon and before beginning the long 3-hour drive home, I was hungry and decided to stop at a nearby Chick-fil-A for supper. While dining, I noticed that a number of folks had their laptops out and realized this particular restaurant had Wi-Fi, as is the growing trend these days -- even at fast-food joints like Micky Dee's. I had left mine in the car, but I was parked right next to the entrance and figured I would be close enough to still be in range, and might check e-mail from the parking lot before heading down the road. However, some public hot spots require a password, or a register receipt number, or something similar for access. So, as one of the friendly employees walked past me, I caught his eye and asked, "Excuse me, do I need to do anything special for Wi-Fi access here?"

He looked at my table (which at that moment contained only my Original Chicken Sandwich and an order of Waffle Fries) and hesitated only momentarily before replying:

"Well, yeah, you need a computer."

Duh. Do I really look that stupid? Have they actually had customers who needed to be told this?

But I just laughed, and found that I indeed had to register first but could do so online once I connected to their network. I got the laptop from the car, and that's what I've done. Since traffic in Houston is so god-awful at this time of day, I may linger here for a while to let it clear out a bit, and have a slice of pie and some coffee before doing battle with the freeway crowd.

In any case, this post represents a landmark of sorts, being the first time I have actually blogged from a public place. Other customers occasionally are staring at me; I wonder if they think I'm downloading porn or something. Maybe I look like that sort of a guy.

Nope. Only a low-life Blogging Degenerate. That's better, right?

Theme Song

2008-01-09T13:59:00.001-06:00

Every presidential candidate needs a snappy theme song to whip up the crowd's enthusiasm at public appearances. Remember Bill Clinton, and Fleetwood Mac's "Don't Stop (Thinking About Tomorrow)"? A great choice, and I honestly believe that the optimism expressed in this song played no small part in his 1992 election. The 2008 pack needs something similar, and today I had a flash of inspiration.

I've played the song "Mama" by The Housefellas (feat. Christine Moore) a few times on my radio show and always liked it, but I suddenly realized today that with one simple word change, this tune would make the perfect theme for Sen. Barack Obama's campaign. It's got a funky, exciting groove and the words are spot on -- just substitute "Obama" for "Oh Mama" as you listen to my 3-minute edit of the song, and see if you agree:

Let's get it started y'all!
Let's get it started for Obama!
C'mon yall ... let's take it higher! C'mon!
Hey!
Obama, Obama (sing it again!)
Obama, Obama (sing it again!)
Obama, Obama (Bama ... Bama ... Bama)
Obama!
You set my soul on fire
You set my spirit free
Your love just keeps on higher
Your love is burnin' in me
It'd take a thousand lifetimes
To say the way I feel
Your light it keeps on shinin'
And now I know it's real
I know you'll take me higher
Into another world
Just keep the fire burnin'
Just wanna be your girl
Obama!

Sing it again...
Obama, Obama (sing it again!)
etc.

Crowds already go wild for Obama, and I can easily visualize thousands of delegates in Denver next August in a mass frenzy, jumping up and down and chanting the refrain "Obama, Obama" in unison (sing it again!) as he makes his entrance onto the convention stage. What do you think? Am I on to something?

Brother can you spare some change?

2008-01-08T03:24:00.000-06:00

Welcome to the first Wind In The Wire blog post of 2008! Yes, I've been slacking off lately but I decided that I simply must get off my lazy ass and write something, anything -- mainly so I wouldn't have to continue to look at those two butt-ugly corn-bag-throwin' redneck dudes from the video in my last post at the top of my page. It was starting to get embarrassing.

But I hope everyone had a great holiday. I'm writing this on the eve of the New Hampshire primary election, and by the time you read this the citizens of The Granite State will have spoken, and having decided the fate of the nation and perhaps much of the world by their vote, will have gone back into hibernation until 2012. I was born and raised in New England myself, and yes, it gets that freaking cold up there in January. Perhaps it's the frigid weather, or the fact that the race for the 2008 White House has been going on since, oh, mid-2002, and now that the new year has arrived, has reached a full-blown fever pitch. In any case, the mood in New Hampshire, according to respected serious political journalist Dave Barry, can be currently defined in one word: "testy". He says:

This was clear during the big televised two-party debate sponsored by ABC News, Facebook, Mountain Dew, MySpace, eBay, Viagra, Microsoft and the Select Number Sleep Comfort Bed. The debate, moderated by avuncular newsman Charlie Gibson, was the pivotal moment of the New Hampshire campaign, and across the nation more than 20 million interested American households tuned in to the NFL playoffs, which were going on at the same time.

But those who watched the debates saw history in the making, as it became clear, over the course of the evening, that one person, and one person only, embodies the wisdom, the judgment, the maturity and -- yes -- the simple humanity that this nation desperately needs in its next president: Charlie Gibson.

Unfortunately he can't afford the pay cut. This means we're stuck with the actual candidates, who, as I say, are in a testy mood, as was evidenced in the Republican debate when John McCain and Mike Huckabee, during a particularly testy exchange over illegal immigration, gave Mitt Romney a wedgie. The Democrats, meanwhile, continued their ongoing obsessive argument about change -- who is the most for change; who has done the most changing; who can change with the changing times to bring change to those who need a change; who has taken the time, with all this tromping around New Hampshire night and day demanding change, to change their underwear; etc.

I haven't commented much on the election in this space so far, despite my unabashedly liberal bent ... probably because I'm having a hard time deciding who I like, or more precisely, who I despise the least. I think a lot of people find themselves in this position at the moment. Fortunately for that big amorphous blob of "undecided" voters like myself, there is no shortage of automated survey tools on the internet that will cheerfully spit out an ideal candidate based on your own positions on the various issues. I call these "Pres-O-Matics", and here are just a few of them:

http://www.wqad.com/Global/link.asp?L=259460

http://glassbooth.org/ (an especially good one)

http://www.selectsmart.com/president/2008.html (has some ads)

http://www.speakout.com/VoteMatch/senate2006.asp?quiz=2008

Finally, USA-Today's "Candidate Match Game" has neat graphics featuring pop-up candidate heads. If only the actual voting in November would be this much fun.

The problem I've found after trying several of these sites is that they each suggest a different candidate even though I input the exact same information about my preferences on the issues. One will say "Oh yeah, you like Hillary, all right", while another screams "Obama's your man", and still yet another says "If you were gay, you would totally do Dennis Kucinich." So I'm confused.*

It's damn lucky for me that I don't play the ponies; my talent for "picking a winner" -- as evidenced by my Fred Thompson prediction last year -- obviously sucks. Nevertheless, Obama seems to be surging, so I'll go out on a limb here and say I think he has the best chance to win in November. It will be interesting to see how it all goes; indeed, there will be no escaping it, unless one relocates here until 2009, which I am seriously considering. One thing we can say for certain: there will be change.

----------
*BTW: for the record, I am not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

While we're on the subject

2007-12-31T18:37:00.001-06:00

Discovered this today while surfing the web, and it seems fitting to wrap up the year with. I swear this will be my last Cornhole post.

Happy New Year, everybody! Here's to a great 2008!

You ask, I answer

2007-12-30T23:39:00.001-06:00

In a comment to my last post, Sphincter asked: "BTW, what happened with the Cornhole Game?" Now you should know that I take these sort of questions from my readers very seriously, mainly because I realize that if I don't, and as a result were to lose just one reader, this would ... well, it would cut my audience in half, basically, and that would be tragic. So without further adieu* let me present -- complete with color photos! -- the conclusion to the Great Christmas Cornhole Caper of 2007:

Completed "naked" cornhole set prior to being painted, with a closeup of the retractable leg area. Look at the detail! Look at the craftsmanship! Look at how I forgot to remove my cutting guide lines!

After applying a primer coat and base layer of lovely slate-gray paint, I next proceeded to deftly add the mind-boggling complex design pattern atop the boards. (Ignore that big ugly overspray of day-glo orange on the front there in the left photo. OK, I had to repaint it, but I'm prepared to suffer for my art.) Finally, I applied several coats of Minwax Polycrylic® to seal and protect the finish, and give it a lustrous shine. Because that's just how I roll.

Christmas morning: L&T opening the elaborately boxed and wrapped corn bags while the boards remained cleverly hidden in the garage. Initially, since they had no concept of the game, I played a little joke on them by pretending that the bags alone were their complete present. This kept everyone in a somewhat bewildered state (major source of bewilderment: trying to remain polite while wondering whether to call 911 for medical assistance since I clearly appeared to have lost my mind) for several minutes until I piped up with "Oh wait! I almost forgot, there's something else that goes with it!" I'm such a kidder. The boards then appeared through the back door, and as they say, "the crowd went wild."

While Cornhole is not exactly an indoor sport, we nevertheless risked damage to our windows, fine china, cats, and other breakable items by setting up the targets in the living room in order for me to demonstrate the detailed, highly complicated rules of the game, which can be summarized thusly: try to toss the bag through the freakin' hole. In the photos above, Dead-Eye Brady takes aim; he shoots, he scores!! Seriously, the game set was a huge hit, especially with the kids. We've heard that they've held family back yard tournaments nearly every night since Christmas and L. is talking about making Cornhole sets for all their friends, and (unlike Mrs. Toast and I, barbaric heathens who live in near-seclusion) they know a whole bunch o' people, mostly through their church back home near Austin. At this rate, if their enjoyment of the sport catches on, I may turn out to be singularly responsible for the spread of Cornhole into East-Central Texas, which will mean that if there was ever any doubt before, there's none now:

I'm going to hell.

----------
*Exactly what is "adieu", anyway? And why should there be no further of it now? I've never been able to figure this expression out.

Actual conversation heard 'round the tree on Xmas morning

2007-12-28T13:28:00.001-06:00

Mrs. Toast: Wow, I'm surprised. This year you didn't get me any perfume, bath oil, lotions, or other smelly stuff for Christmas like you usually do.

Me: Maybe that just means I think you don't stink.

[Evil eye cast my way.]

Me: That is, I mean, I think you already smell great this year.

[Evil eye intensifies.]

Me: I mean ... never mind.

[Pause]

Me: Hey, look! It's A Wonderful Life is on!

Christmas Eve

2007-12-24T02:42:00.001-06:00

At last, it's here: that one magical night each year when kids of all ages go to sleep listening for the sound of sleigh bells on the roof and dream of dancing sugar plums. In keeping with that thought, it should not come as much of a surprise to learn that Clement C. Moore's "A Visit From St. Nicholas", more popularly known as "The Night Before Christmas", is perhaps the most parodied poem in the English language. Its sing-song meter and old-fashioned imagery make it ripe for satire. Here are links to a few of the many spoofs of Moore's famous work:

A Lawyer's Christmas

A Nascar Christmas

An Intellectual Christmas

A Florida Christmas

A Texas Christmas

However, of all the adaptations of this classic holiday chestnut, the following, entitled "A Visit from St. Nicholas In The Ernest Hemingway Manner" is my favorite. It was written by the estimable James Thurber and originally appeared in The New Yorker exactly eighty years ago tonight, on December 24, 1927. Enjoy.

It was the night before Christmas. The house was very quiet. No creatures were stirring in the house. There weren't even any mice stirring. The stockings had been hung carefully by the chimney. The children hoped that Saint Nicholas would come and fill them.

The children were in their beds. Their beds were in the room next to ours. Mama and I were in our beds. Mama wore a kerchief. I had my cap on. I could hear the children moving. We didn't move. We wanted the children to think we were asleep.

"Father," the children said.

There was no answer. He's there, all right, they thought.

"Father," they said, and banged on their beds.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"We have visions of sugarplums," the children said.

"Go to sleep," said Mama.

"We can't sleep," said the children. They stopped talking, but I could hear them moving. They made sounds.

"Can you sleep?" asked the children.

"No," I said.

"You ought to sleep."

"I know. I ought to sleep."

"Can we have some sugarplums?"

"You can't have any sugarplums," said Mama.

"We just asked you."

There was a long silence. I could hear the children moving again.

"Is Saint Nicholas asleep?" asked the children.

"No," Mama said. "Be quiet."

"What the hell would he be asleep tonight for?" I asked.

"He might be," the children said.

"He isn't," I said.

"Let's try to sleep," said Mama.

The house became quiet once more. I could hear the rustling noises the children made when they moved in their beds.

Out on the lawn a clatter arose. I got out of bed and went to the window. I opened the shutters; then I threw up the sash. The moon shone on the snow. The moon gave the lustre of mid-day to objects in the snow. There was a miniature sleigh in the snow, and eight tiny reindeer. A little man was driving them. He was lively and quick. He whistled and shouted at the reindeer and called them by their names. Their names were Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder, and Blitzen.

He told them to dash away to the top of the porch, and then he told them to dash away to the top of the wall. They did. The sleigh was full of toys.

"Who is it?" Mama asked.

"Some guy," I said. "A little guy."

I pulled my head in out of the window and listened. I heard the reindeer on the roof. I could hear their hoofs pawing and prancing on the roof.

"Shut the window," said Mama.

I stood still and listened.

"What do you hear?"

"Reindeer," I said. I shut the window and walked about. It was cold. Mama sat up in the bed and looked at me.

"How would they get on the roof?" Mama asked.

"They fly."

"Get into bed. You'll catch cold."

Mama lay down in bed. I didn't get into bed. I kept walking around.

"What do you mean, they fly?" asked Mama.

"Just fly is all."

Mama turned away toward the wall. She didn't say anything.

I went out into the room where the chimney was. The little man came down the chimney and stepped into the room. He was dressed all in fur. His clothes were covered with ashes and soot from the chimney. On his back was a pack like a peddler's pack. There were toys in it. His cheeks and nose were red and he had dimples. His eyes twinkled. His mouth was little, like a bow, and his beard was very white. Between his teeth was a stumpy pipe. The smoke from the pipe encircled his head in a wreath. He laughed and his belly shook. It shook like a bowl of red jelly. I laughed. He winked his eye, then he gave a twist to his head. He didn't say anything.

He turned to the chimney and filled the stockings and turned away from the chimney. Laying his finger aside his nose, he gave a nod. Then he went up the chimney. I went to the chimney and looked up. I saw him get into his sleigh. He whistled at his team and the team flew away. The team flew as lightly as thistledown. The driver called out, "Merry Christmas and good night." I went back to bed.

"What was it?" asked Mama. "Saint Nicholas?" She smiled.

"Yeah," I said.

She sighed and turned in the bed.

"I saw him," I said.

"Sure."

"I did see him."

"Sure you saw him." She turned farther toward the wall.

"Father," said the children.

"There you go," Mama said. "You and your goddam flying reindeer."

"Go to sleep," I said.

"Can we see Saint Nicholas when he comes?" the children asked.

"You got to be asleep," I said. "You got to be asleep when he comes. You can't see him unless you're unconscious."

"Father knows," Mama said.

I pulled the covers over my mouth. It was warm under the covers. As I went to sleep I wondered if Mama was right.

Even our cat Tiger barely opens one eye from his holiday slumber to say...

Merry Christmas to all!

Feeling Ducky

2007-12-23T00:51:00.000-06:00

Gah ... I don't know what the heck has happened to me, can it really be that I haven't posted a blog entry in nearly three weeks now? I hope I remember how. Where's the "any" key I'm supposed to press again?

But even though my output has been less than stellar lately, I've still been visiting my Blog Buddies and trying to stay in touch with what y'all are up to. So let me say Happy Birthday to little Aiden O'Brien who is celebrating his big first birthday along with his family today! Yay!

I also received email this week from a young man by the name of Aaron Johnson, who despite being a fine cartoonist, is obviously deranged because he happened to mention in his message that he actually enjoys reading this here blog. (I presume that means "when I get off my lazy ass and actually write something in it".) I am shocked! As further proof that Aaron's bizarre sense of ironic humor and sarcasm closely matches my own, he sent me a link to his web site. Now if you're one of the so-called "normal" people, you probably think there is no daily comic strip to be found anywhere in the civilized world that draws a spot-on parody of the wild and wacky, fun-filled, rock-em-sock-em world of the Professional Photographer, AND features a picture-snapping duck as its main protagonist.

Well my friend, you would be wrong.

This man has got the camera angst nailed, people. And because the day is close at hand, here's his tender look at the joyous Christmas holiday from the perspective of a portrait photographer:

These are just a few samples. You'll find over 300 of the strips archived for easy free viewing on his site, and nearly all of them are very clever if not downright freakin' hilarious. What I find especially refreshing is that unlike many artists who feel they need to put virtual locks and chains on their work, Aaron magnanimously welcomes viewers to "link, post, copy/paste, or save the strips to their own sites, blogs, forums, newsletters, etc." Whether or not you take photos professionally, for fun, or have a cardboard sign reading "Will Shoot 4 Food", you'll get a kick out of What The Duck. Check it out if you get a chance. Tell him Mr. Toast sent you.

The Future of Music

2007-12-05T10:30:00.001-06:00

Foreword: I've written extensively in this space in the past about the sea change taking place in the music business from my perspective as a radio broadcaster. We are living in historic times, as business paradigms that have existed for most of the last century are changing right before our eyes. Recently I read a very well-written article by Skip Pizzi in Radio World magazine, which deserves to be reprinted here for anyone who might be interested in this topic. It opens with a provocative question: has it become optional to pay for music? In my opinion, if this is not yet 100% the case, it will be in the not-so-distant future. I believe nothing less than a full-scale revolution is taking place among consumers of music, and taken to its extreme conclusion, it seems altogether possible that the concept of "making music for money" will eventually become as outmoded as the buggy whip, to use Skip's comparison. Whether or not this will be a good thing is certainly debatable: shouldn't any artist deserve to be paid for their work, no matter if their medium is painting, sculpture, photography, or music? Will artists cease to write, record, and perform music if they can't get rich from doing so? Or will it weed out the hacks who are in the business just for the "rock star lifestyle", leaving only those who genuinely love music to continue to create songs we enjoy listening to? Here's the article; what do you think?

Singing The Buggy Whip Blues

At a recent conference presentation on the future of the music industry, a fellow panelist asked the audience if they agreed with his contention that it had now “become voluntary to pay for music.” This provocative statement brought into clear focus the magnitude of change that the music industry has undergone in recent years — and by the way, no one disagreed with him.

The music industry faces a unique challenge, in which external forces have conspired to eviscerate its traditional business model, while everything else around it remained largely the same. Neither supply nor demand for music has abated — if anything, they have both grown — but through a strange set of combinational circumstances, the context within which the industry monetizes this process has shifted, and revenue thereby produced has dwindled substantially. Although some in the industry like to point fingers in blame for this predicament, no one element is wholly responsible. Meanwhile, musicians continue to create music, and consumers continue to listen to it via a growing number of venues and platforms, but the traditional marketplace has almost disappeared. It’s as if people suddenly sprouted wings and began flying themselves to distant destinations. They are still traveling just as much or more, but the airlines can’t fill their seats.

Certainly this is not the first time that new technology has caused an established business to suffer losses. The classic case of the automobile’s impact on the buggy whip is fairly apt to the music industry’s woes here. But the music industry’s revenue flow is far more arcane and complex than the simple sale of a tangible product. It is a complicated arrangement that includes musicians, composers, producers, studios, talent scouts, licensing agents (at multiple levels), concert promoters, broadcasters, manufacturers and lawyers — lots of lawyers. So some deconstruction is in order.

First, consider that when we talk about “the music industry,” we usually think of the labels, but clearly the industry’s scope extends well beyond this. Thus any attempt to re-engineer the industry must be holistic and fully inclusive. The labels do play a key enabling role, however, adding value to the whole industry primarily through their processes of aggregation. But now the very need for this “middleman role” is being questioned, as both artists and consumers seek their respective individual paths for access and commerce with one another. Therefore the labels are at ground zero of this transition’s impact, and are shouting the loudest about it.

Yet they are not alone. Radio has also played an important part in the traditional music marketplace, so as the current disaggregation trend continues, radio’s value as a collective promoter of content may also diminish.

The key to survival of this ecosystem is how sustainable the replacement business model will be. Or perhaps a better way to phrase this is whether such sustainability will flow from the entire range of new models as a whole, because it already seems evident that there may be myriad new approaches in concurrent use, and that no single replacement approach will prevail.

Recent months have provided much to examine in this respect. One notable foray is Radiohead’s label-free, self-release of its much anticipated album “In Rainbows” as an unprotected download or a premium-packaged CD. Even more groundbreaking was the band’s pricing of the download at whatever the downloader wants to pay, from free on up. This first overt application of true voluntary payment occurred a few weeks after the discussion at the conference noted above, and to date, the average “In Rainbows” downloader is paying about $8. Meanwhile, other artists from Madonna to Trent Reznor have announced they will forego their traditional label arrangements and seek some method of independent access to customers. (None have yet gone so far as Radiohead to allow the consumer to choose what they’re willing to pay, however.)

Yet another approach is the flat-rate subscription model, whereby a consumer has access to a selection of music content for a fixed monthly fee. This is more of a rental than a purchase model, however, since most of today’s subscription services do not allow unfettered copying of content (i.e., no burning to CD). A variation on this scheme allows blanket licenses to be purchased for music usage (including fair-use copying) by large, contained groups of users, such as college campuses. Some have suggested that this approach be applied to ISPs for all their respective customers, and the costs recovered in the fees that the service providers’ charge to customers — like a tax or surcharge.

Still other options include traditional paid music downloads but without digital rights management, so once purchased, no restrictions are placed on the music’s usage by the customer. This more consumer-friendly approach seems to be gaining traction, and it is no less secure a digital format than the CDs the industry has been distributing for a quarter of a century.

At perhaps the extreme end of the spectrum is the idea that music downloads should be universally available for free, and revenue to the music industry would come from concerts and collateral sales.

Again, the most likely outcome is some assortment of the above, including a bit of the old model and several coexisting variations of the new. There’s plenty of room for variety, especially when you consider that some models will apply best to well-established artists, while others will be preferred by emerging talent.

Another useful analogy is the residential real estate market, where some homeowners prefer the FSBO (For Sale By Owner) approach, but many still go with a traditional Realtor. And there are agencies somewhere in between, helping FSBOs via aggregated listings and other services. A few “lightweight” indie labels or Web sites are analogous to the latter, such as Magnatune.com.

From a loftier perspective, one could observe that the value of aggregation is now simply moving downstream. Time was that artists needed a recording contract to even get their songs recorded, let alone promoted and played on the radio, then pressed and shipped to stores. The enormity of the entire industrial process made it impractical for individual artists to consider doing any of it themselves. Not so today, where about the only place even an emerging artist really benefits from reliance on an aggregator is in the “last mile” to consumer — i.e., the music stores, either physical or online. Established acts don’t need even that aggregation, as Radiohead’s sales of millions of copies of “In Rainbows” as an end-to-end independent effort has shown.

This is not to say that the traditional powerhouses of the music industry will go quietly into that good night. The RIAA continues to plow every field that appears remotely fertile, from suing users of unauthorized distribution sites to pushing for legislation and regulation that would mandate new royalties (including new performance royalties from local radio broadcasters). Meanwhile the labels themselves are pursuing a range of new revenue opportunities, as Chris (“The Long Tail”) Anderson recently noted in his blog.

He points out that while CD sales are indeed off, many other monetized industry elements are experiencing strong growth, such as concert tickets, promotional merchandise, digital music downloads, ringtones, licensing of music for commercials, TV shows, movies and video games, revenue from hardware (sales of some satellite radio receivers and MP3 players generate royalties to labels), and even vinyl singles — lots of club DJs out there, apparently.

A new reality is settling in for the music business, and there is certainly no shortage of differing reactions to it. Whether the old players adapt or a new industry emerges remains to be seen. In any case, the status quo is no more, and there will likely be no return to it.

© 2007 by Skip Pizzi, Radio World magazine

Joy To The World!

2007-12-02T19:40:00.000-06:00

Yes, once again it's that special, exciting time of year when people celebrate the "season to be jolly" by floating around their yards in invisible boats, breaking into strangers' homes to rearrange the furniture, and threatening to knock each other's teeth out. The following are actual excerpts from this week's "Police Report" section of our local newspaper:

• Terroristic threat: A woman reported that she was confronted by the wife of the man she is dating. The wife displayed a jack handle, and threatened to harm her, the report said. The woman wishes to file charges.

• Assault: A man said that he was assaulted at his home by another man who was visiting his girlfriend. The man who filed the complaint suffered minor injuries. The suspect fled the scene. A warrant was requested.

• Harassment: A woman said that her "former lover" was calling and harassing her. According to the report, the "former lover" said he would knock the woman's teeth out. A warrant was requested.

• Criminal trespass: A man reported that while he was away on business, his neighbor's children built a fort on his property. The children built the fort with materials they found on his property. The man did not file charges.

• Unauthorized use of a motor vehicle: A woman reported that her car was missing, and she thinks her neighbors may have been involved.

• Credit card abuse: A woman reported that a credit card that is in her husband's name was used by her daughter-in-law to make purchases without their consent.

• Disturbance: A boy reported that his parents were in the living room fighting. The mother asked the father to leave, but he would not.

• Aggravated assault: A man walking to work said he was stabbed by two men who confronted him about the color of his clothing. The man walked to the hospital where he was treated for the stab wound.

• Family violence: A man and a woman threw food at each other at a restaurant during an argument.

• Interference with an emergency call: A man and a woman accused each other of assault and of disconnecting the phone whenever either tried to call the police.

• Assault/family violence: A woman said she was assaulted by her boyfriend on two separate days. According to the report, the woman said the man became upset because she would not "cater to his needs." The woman had multiple bruises and swelling on her face, and she said he also slammed her finger in a door. A warrant was requested for the man.

• Suspicious activity: A woman reported that someone turned the water on in her yard and was floating around in a boat. A deputy checked the yard, but no boat was found.

• Disturbance: Two brothers got into a verbal argument over a beer. The brothers were separated and sent home to sober up. No arrests were made.

• Criminal trespass: Someone reported to police that an unknown person had entered the complainant's house and rearranged the furniture. No items were stolen.

This final item is my hands-down favorite, displaying a curiously detailed narrative rarely seen in your typical police report. I swear I am not making this up, this is exactly how it appeared in the paper:

• Officers were dispatched to a residence where it was claimed a gun had been recovered. Upon their arrival, the deputies met with complainant Mr. H, who stated that a Mr. L had come to his residence and dropped off a shotgun. Deputies recovered the weapon and proceeded to Mr. L.'s residence. Upon their arrival, Mr. L. exited his residence with his hands above his head yelling, "Don't shoot, I am unarmed." Mr. L. advised he had been at Mr. H's residence earlier in the evening, when Mr. H had become angry after having a bipolar mood swing. Deputy was then told that Mr. H. picked up a stick and began to swing at Mr. L., but Mr. L. also brandished a stick and they then began exchanging blows with one another in a mock sword fight like Sir Galahad and the Black Knight. Mr. H. then advanced his bipolar mood swing up a notch and went inside his residence and returned with a shotgun at which point Mr. L, using his quick and cunning cat-like skills, was able to wrestle the weapon away from Mr. H and proceed in a hurried retreat away from the residence down State Highway 7 like a ghost in the night. Mr. L ran or rather unsteadily stumbled to his 3rd, 4th or possibly 5th cousin's residence (the complainant) and deposited the weapon on their back porch, gave a quick synopsis of the evening's adventures and then departed like a thief in the night once again before law enforcement could be summoned. The officers, who realized that no major offense had been committed this evening during one of Mr. L.'s many life adventures, telephoned the poor mother of Mr. H and explained that Mr. H could retrieve his weapon the next morning at the Sheriff's Office, once the odor of alcohol had ceased to emanate from his body. The case is closed.

Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Men!

End of the line

2007-12-01T02:00:00.000-06:00

Congratulations to those who have managed to survive the Bataan Death March of the Blogosphere, otherwise more affectionately known as NaBloPoMo. You made it! Yay!

Let me revive a proposal I made last year at this time, which is to declare in no official capacity whatsoever, that today, December 1, shall be known as "NaNoMoFoBloPo", which stands for "National No More Forced Blog Posting Day". The idea is for those who have so tirelessly published every day in November to not post anything today.

Take the day off and relax. You've earned it.

Hot Springs, Cool Town

2007-11-26T22:50:00.000-06:00

We're back from our Ozark Adventure, having spent a nice relaxing week away from the hustle and bustle before the "holiday season" begins in earnest. Hot Springs is one of our favorite vacation spots; we've been making treks there for the past twenty years. For one thing, it's fairly close at only about 250 miles away, which is a relatively painless four-hour drive. The main reason we like it, though, is for its incredible scenic beauty. Hot Springs sits right smack-dab in the middle of the part of Arkansas known as the "Diamond Lakes" region, which consists of Lakes DeGray, Hamilton, and Ouachita, plus a few other smaller bodies of water. Each lake has its own particular character. DeGray is a 13,800 acre Corps of Engineers project, thus commercial development is limited and the lake has a very natural feel. The primary recreational center is Lake DeGray State Park Resort, where we've stayed often. Wildlife abounds in the park, including winter nesting grounds for the American bald eagle. You can camp in the wild, stay in the park's well-appointed lodge (with free Wi-Fi!) where you can dine in the restaurant and enjoy the massive stone fireplace, or even rent a Yurt for a different sort of outdoor experience.

Further north, spring-fed Lake Ouachita is another Corps lake; with 40,000 acres and 975 miles of shoreline, it's the biggest lake in Arkansas. Also due to limited commercial development, the water is exceptionally pure, and the lake is rated by the EPA as the second-cleanest in the entire United States.

In contrast to the other two however, Lake Hamilton is a well-developed residential "city" lake with many homes, hotels, restaurants and other businesses along its shoreline, and this is where we went most often during the time we owned our boat. Some of our most enjoyable experiences involved dressing up in our fine duds, getting into the boat, putting over to a restaurant on the water where an attendant would greet us at the dock and valet-park the boat for us while we enjoyed a gourmet meal. Then afterwards, we would leisurely putt over to a nightclub on the other side of the lake where we would drop anchor just outside the marina and listen to the band for an hour or two before returning to our luxury lakeside accommodations. Good times.

Unfortunately, we no longer have the boat due to the increasing difficulty of maintaining it with my lung condition, not to mention the fact it was costing us an arm and a leg to operate it, especially when we only got to take it out a few times a year. (The photo shows me at the helm during happier times on Lake Ouachita.) As anyone who has ever owned a "boat" will surely tell you, the classic definition of the word is: (1) A small vessel for travel on water; (2) A bottomless pit, surrounded by water, into which you throw money; (3) Acronym used by boat owners for "Break Out Another Thousand".

Still, even without the boat we love Hot Springs and try to get back there every now and then. Aside from the lakes, the downtown area is very quaint, with a turn-of-the-century art-deco sort of feel to it. The best example of this sort of architecture is the centrally-situated Arlington Hotel (where, again, we have often stayed) which has a colorful history. Back in the 30's, it was a favorite hangout of Chicago mobsters like Al Capone, who was rumored to have his own private escape hatch installed in his suite at the Arlington in order to make a quick getaway from the law if needed.

After several fires and considerable neglect during the 50's and 60's, the hotel has been restored to its former splendor and looks today much as it did in the period postcard below:

Not seen in the photo, suspended into the mountain at the rear of the hotel, is a gigantic redwood hot tub in which we have spent many a drunken new year's eve with a crowd of other revelers, the last time in 2000. The tub is fed by the thermal springs from which the town gets its name, alleged to have curative powers by the native Indians who frequented the spot long before the white man arrived. The custom of "taking the waters" to heal gout, ulcers, rheumatism and a variety of other disorders endured long thereafter, and beginning in the early 1900's dozens of elaborate bathhouses sprang up along what is now Central Avenue, catering to throngs of health-seekers. These establishments, patterned after the ostentatious public baths of Roman times, were full of the latest equipment, pampering the bather in artful surroundings including marble and tile decorated floors, walls and partitions. Some rooms sported polished brass, murals, fountains, statues and stained glass.

Today, only two of these magnificent structures have survived. The Fordyce has been preserved by the National Park Service as a sort of museum of the historic grandeur of the times, featuring the furniture, steam cabinets, tubs, massage tables, chiropody tools, billiard table, grand piano, beauty parlor and hydrotherapy equipment prevalent in those days. And one other is in actual operation; at the Buckstaff Baths you can still get a ritual therapeutic bath and massage in the traditional manner. We've done it once, and it was an interesting experience to say the least -- although I don't think I'd care to do it again.

Finally, there's the "Clinton Connection" which I hinted at in an earlier post. Without getting too political, I will just say that despite his personal shortcomings, I thought highly of Bill Clinton's accomplishments during his term of office. As you may know, Hot Springs was his boyhood home, and during his presidency the town was simply beside itself in celebration. At one point during his tenure, Mrs. Toast's sister and her husband (rabid Christian conservative Republicans who thought he was no less than the devil incarnate) accompanied us on a family lake vacation and we gave them a tour of the town, during which I took fiendish delight in pointing out All Things Clintonian: his former house, his former school, the parking lot where he got his first blow job, etc. I could see my sister-in-law getting progressively more agitated by this, until we finally pulled up in front of a souvenir shop and I offered to go in and buy her a Bill Clinton T-Shirt. At this point she could take no more, and blurted out that she wished I would because she needed something to clean her toilet with.

Another famous Clinton legacy in Hot Springs is McClard's Bar-B-Q, home of some of the finest ribs and sauce in the entire nation. These culinary delights were a favorite of Bill's for many years, and when he was governor, he would occasionally sneak down to Hot Springs from Little Rock in the middle of the night at which time the owners would open the place and cook up a batch of beef and pork especially for him. He also stopped by on several occasions during his presidency, and favored one particular booth near the middle of the restaurant. During one of our visits there a few years ago, "The Clinton Table" was available and I am excited to report that my ass was parked in the exact same spot that formerly had been occupied by the ass of the 42nd President of the United States of America. (There's a Monica Lewinsky joke there somewhere, but I'm not going to touch it.) This time, however, we sat next to the window and chatted up our waitress who regaled us with several Clinton stories. It seems that whenever he came in as president, there were at least a dozen secret service personnel who surrounded him at all times to not only shield him from any potential drive-by shooting through the large plate-glass windows, but to give him some privacy while he ate. Apparently, many people wanted to come up to him to say hello and shake his hand. On one occasion there was a woman (not a fan, much like my sister-in-law) who was determined not to just meet Mr. Clinton, but to also confront him about some issue or another. When a secret service agent tried to keep her away, she jabbed him with her elbow in an attempt to push past him. This was Not A Good Move on her part to say the least -- you do not want to fuck with the secret service -- and resulted in some momentary chaos during which Clinton was whisked out of the restaurant and the woman was arrested. Our waitress also recounted that every time the president came in, ten to twelve large bags of food would disappear out the door to a group of people whom she never, ever saw. Presumably, these were secret service agents staked out on the rooftops of nearby buildings.

As you can see by the photo to your right, I thoroughly enjoyed our meal there last week, and we bought several bottles of sauce to bring back for Christmas presents. One of them will no doubt go to my sister-in-law.

Giving thanks

2007-11-21T15:54:00.000-06:00

It's something of a non-traditional Thanksgiving for us this year, as we're ensconced in a cozy little hotel in Hot Springs Arkansas, overlooking a scenic lake and mountains. Mrs. Toast needed some R&R after working so hard at the library over the last several months, so this year we decided to get away by ourselves for a few days and save the big family gathering until Christmas. Tomorrow we plan to enjoy a fine holiday feast at a favorite restaurant here, with none of the hassle of preparation, cooking, or cleaning up afterwards. Yeah, we'll miss the leftover turkey sandwiches for the next week, but that's OK.

I know many of you will be traveling to spend your holiday with friends, relatives, and/or loved ones, so let me wish you a safe trip and a very Happy Thanksgiving. I hope you're blessed with lots to be thankful for.

Stage Two: In which, amazingly, I manage to not saw off a finger

2007-11-20T01:36:00.001-06:00

The Great Cornhole Set Construction continues in the Toasted Woodshop, with much visible progress to report today. I was able to cut up the 1x4's without losing any of my digits (no small accomplishment, if you've ever seen me at work) and then glue and pin the frames together as in the pictures below:

Once the play board is attached to the frame, I will have what is known as a set of "naked" (i.e., unfinished) targets, very much like you see here:

Even in their present raw condition, these boards might fetch $60-80 on eBay or Craigslist, plus perhaps another $50 or so to ship them. Of course, the real value comes in the finishing touches, which is to say the quality and artistry of the paint job. Some of these can be extremely elaborate, such as these or this one. This is one reason why the sport fascinates me so much in addition to the simple gamesmanship of it; I love how people express their creativity by giving their homemade boards real personality. College and major league sports logos are also a popular theme, not just in board design but in the bags as well, such as these for example.

However, as my artistic ability is rather limited, I'm going to opt instead for a simple two-color geometric design, with perhaps a pinstripe if I'm feeling especially bold by the time we get to that point. They won't be fancy, but I still think they're going to look nice.

You know, it just occurred to me that since I seem to be getting a lot of blog mileage out of these Cornhole posts, maybe I should have signed up for NaBloPoMo again this year after all. At this rate, there's at least another half-dozen photos I could still take and post yet. Or maybe not, as I'm sure many of you would get sick of reading about it and find other sites for your regular dose of sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek humor. But more importantly, my big project will be on hiatus for the rest of the week as Mrs. Toast and I want to get out of town for Thanksgiving, and we have decided to spend the holiday in ... Arkansas.

Yes, I hear you: "Arkansas?", you ask, somewhat incredulously. "You must be kidding. Why Arkansas?"

To which I say: "why the hell not?"

It has nothing to do with family; neither of us have any relatives there. Neither is there any job-related reason for us to visit the Natural State, nor does it involve Bill and/or Hillary Clinton in any way. Wait a moment, come to think of it, there actually is sort of a very loose connection to Bill...

But, we leave in the morning, and I'll tell you all about it after we get there and settle in to our digs. Don't you just love a cliffhanger?

I am dangerous with power tools

2007-11-18T20:55:00.001-06:00

After my recent post about America's fastest up-and-coming sport of Cornhole, it occurred to me that a game set might make a fun holiday gift for the in-laws, who love family sports and have lots of yard space for play. However, a complete set runs about $200 from one of the many suppliers on the 'net, including hefty delivery costs due to the size and weight of the boards. Therefore, I've decided to build my own targets and buy just the bags ready-made, as I do have some rudimentary carpentry abilities but both myself and Mrs. Toast are seriously challenged when it comes to sewing. Sorry, that's just how we roll, people.

But I got started on the project this evening, and let me share with you a photo of the first stage of construction which involved cutting the 6" holes in each of the two 2' x 4' targets:

Since I don't own a circle-cutting saw, I had to draw the hole using a compass and then attempt to cut around the mark using a garden-variety jig saw as you see above. Now, if you've ever tried to do this, you know that cutting a perfectly round hole using this technique is next to impossible, and although I got it pretty darn close, it was still just a skosh lopsided. However, I am rehearsing a little speech for when we present the gift on Christmas morning which goes something like this:

"On close inspection you will notice what at first may appear to be minor imperfections in the construction of this item, such as holes that are, while generally 'circular' in shape, not quite exactly, in the purely mathematical use of the word, 'round'. I would ask you to consider these not as flaws, per se, but as one-of-a-kind personal touches by the craftsman which make each piece an individual and unique work of art."

Right.

However, we do have one minor dilemma in that the recipient of this gift is a fine, upstanding, highly conservative Christian family with two young children. Therefore, to not offend their delicate sensibilities and permanently warp the minds of the young 'uns, the name "Cornhole" must become The Word Never To Be Spoken. We will refer to it as "Corn Toss", "Baggo" or something equally innocuous; hopefully I won't accidentally let it slip out at some point in my enthusiasm for the game. Of course, there is no doubt in my mind that eventually they will learn the true nature of their holiday gift, perhaps when Dad is describing it to a co-worker who then blurts out, "Oh yeah, you mean they gave you a Cornhole set. Cool!", or whatever. It's only a matter of time, really, and if the children become sullen, drop out of Sunday School, start smoking crack and turn to a life of crime as a result of hearing the Forbidden Word, let me publicly say that it won't be our fault.

No matter what it's called though, I think they'll appreciate that it's not so much the object itself as it is the time, effort, and affection that I'm putting into building this by hand for them, especially because they know that the physical activity required for me to do so is slightly difficult due to my lung condition. But as the old saying goes, it really is the thought that counts.

Even more exciting, I hereby invite you, dear reader, to follow along with me over the next few weeks as I document here on the blog the various stages of construction complete with photos. Yes, observe this labor of love as it unfolds before your very eyes! Watch and marvel as mere plywood, nails, paint and polycrilic are magically transformed into a thing of wonder and delight! A thing of beauty to behold! A thing called Cornho...

I mean ... Toss. Corn Toss.

OK, this may be tougher than I thought.

News bulliten

2007-11-16T21:18:00.001-06:00

Washington, DC -- Congress today announced that the office of President of the United States of America will be one of numerous jobs outsourced to India as of January 1, 2008. The move is being made in order to save the President's $500,000 yearly salary, as well as a record $521 Billion in deficit expenditures and related overhead that his office has incurred during the last 5 years. "We believe this is a wise financial move. The cost savings are huge," stated Congressman Thomas Reynolds (R-WA). "We cannot remain competitive on the world stage with the current level of cash outlay," Reynolds noted.

Mr. Bush was informed by e-mail this morning of his termination. Preparations for the job move have been underway for some time.

Gurvinder Singh of Indus Teleservices, Mumbai, India will assume the office of President as of the new year. Mr. Singh was born in the United States while his Indian parents were vacationing at Niagara Falls, NY, thus making him eligible for the position. He will receive a salary of $320 (USD) a month, but no health coverage or other benefits.

It is believed that Mr. Singh will be able to handle his job responsibilities without a support staff. Due to the time difference between the US and India, he will be working primarily at night. "Working nights will allow me to keep my day job at the Dell Computer call center," stated Mr. Singh in an exclusive interview with The Toasted Times. "I am excited about this position. I always hoped I would be President." A Congressional spokesperson noted that while Mr. Singh may not be fully aware of all the issues involved in the office of President, this should not be a problem as President Bush had never been familiar with the issues either.

Mr. Singh will rely upon a script tree that will enable him to respond effectively to most topics without having to understand the underlying issue at all. Using these canned responses, he can address common presidential matters. "We know these scripting tools work," stated the spokesperson. "President Bush has used them successfully for years, with the result that some people actually thought he knew what he was talking about."

Bush will receive health coverage, expenses, and salary until his final day of employment. Following a two-week waiting period, he will be eligible for $140 a week unemployment for 13 weeks. Unfortunately he will not be eligible for Medicaid, as his unemployment benefits will exceed the allowed limit. Mr. Bush has been provided with the outplacement services of Manpower, Inc. to help him write a resume and prepare for his upcoming job transition. According to Manpower, Mr. Bush may have difficulties in securing a new position due to a lack of any successful work experience during his lifetime. A greeter position at Wal-Mart was suggested due to Bush's extensive experience at shaking hands.

Battle of the bands?

2007-11-10T22:12:00.000-06:00

I've been listening to a couple of new albums recently, and it's been an interesting contrast. I'm going to include samples of each in this post so you can judge for yourself.

First out of the gate, we have the woman known (for better or worse) as the World's Most Famous Pop Tart, Ms. Britney Spears, with her new CD "Blackout". For reasons which I fail to comprehend, this album shot to the #1 position on the pop charts from the moment of its release two weeks ago. Of course, interest in the album was no doubt piqued by Brit's extremely bizarre public behavior over the last year or so, and many people perhaps bought it out of curiosity. However, some folks actually kind of like it, and since this blog faithfully follows social and pop culture trends (hah!), I decided to listen to the album for myself to see what the hoopla was all about. It's a fact that early in her career Britney was something of a legitimate sensation; so has she still "got it", musically speaking?

The answer, at least according to my ears, is not just "no", but "hell no".

Her music (and I use the term loosely) consists of white trash wannabe hip-hop/rap/crunk that, according to one reviewer, sounds like "what you would expect to hear if a plastic blow-up sex doll could sing." Says another:

"Britney's had a lot of drama, so naturally, it's time to make a new album, right? And what better title than, say, "Blackout," which doesn't evoke her substance-fueled club binges at all? At any rate, "Blackout" (Jive) is her fifth and most hilarious record, thanks largely to the contrast between the often-brilliant musical production and Spears' steadfast insistence on taking herself seriously and expecting you will, too on songs called "Get Naked (I Got a Plan)," "Freakshow" and "Why Should I Be Sad?" Oh, no reason. It's as if a beautiful Vaudevillian theater is collapsing around her and she refuses to leave the stage."

In virtually every track she expresses a minor variation of the following theme: "I am Britney, bitch, the hottest, most sexy-licious woman ever to walk the planet. Girls all wish they could be like me. Guys all want to make it with me, and if you're lucky I might choose one of you to donate your bodily fluids so I can make yet another baby, which some asshat judge will most likely take away from me. Whatever."

If only I were making this up.

Mind you, Britney does not so much sing these lyrics as she coos, moans, groans, and giggles them. In fact, the 12 tracks on "Blackout" are so mind-numbingly similar that I decided to dust off my old radio production skills and edit them together for your listening pleasure. That's right folks, there's no need to go out and spend your hard-earned cash: you can hear the entire album condensed down to a mere four minutes right here! Plus, as an extra added bonus I even threw in a couple of "oldies but goodies" in places where they seemed especially appropriate in the mash-up. Note: you might want to listen with a good set of headphones, in order to pick up the subtle nuances of Ms. Spear's delicate vocal stylings. Seriously. It's pretty hard to figure out what the hell she's saying otherwise. Check it out:

And then on the other hand, we have probably the greatest American rock band ever, The Eagles. To be fair, their new album has also received mixed reviews since its release last week, but nevertheless, compared to Britney this is not unlike being offered two glasses: one containing a 2003 Château Léoville St.-Julien Bordeaux and the other containing liquefied industrial waste, and being asked to choose which you'd rather drink. The eagerly-anticipated "Long Road Out of Eden" -- a two-disk CD set, no less -- is their first studio album since 1979's "The Long Run", yet listening to the tracks, it's hard to believe that nearly thirty years has elapsed; to me, the music sounds as fresh, intense, and enjoyable as ever. It's filled with their trademark soaring harmonies and guitar-fueled rockers, and many of the lyrics crackle with resident cynic Don Henley's environmental sensitivity. Consider, for example, the first cut on CD1 entitled "No More Walks In The Woods":

Makes you want to just go out and hug a tree, don't it? The album gets even better from there on out; the first disk features more of their goosebump-inducing harmonies, while the second disk cuts loose with kick-ass country rockers that invoke memories of songs like "Life In The Fast Lane", "Already Gone", and "Heartache Tonight".

Admittedly, there's a few misfires. Henly's preachiness, while of noble intent, begins to wears thin when you consider that the album is being sold in an exclusive marketing deal with Wal-Mart -- which makes the line "we worship at the marketplace while common sense is going out of style" in "Business As Usual" ring a bit hollow. I would be way more impressed if the band had bypassed the record company/retailer conglomerate and sold the disk solely from their web site, but I guess it must be pretty difficult to be that eglatarian (pun intended) when mega-corporations are throwing huge bags of cash at you. Also, in dishing up two CD's worth of material the band included a few songs (the too-long "Waiting In The Weeds" and the vaguely creepy "I Love To Watch A Woman Dance", for example) that might not have made the cut had they been going for a really excellent single disk.

But The Eagles vs. Britney? The musical styles are so different that it's really impossible to compare them; Henley, Frey, & Co. are pretty damn good even if they don't quite reach the level of brilliance I'd hoped for, and Brit's well-produced album might not be so bad if only she didn't sing on it. Unfortunately, she does.

I'd rather have the Bordeaux, thank you.

The Legend of NaBloPoMo

2007-11-06T21:43:00.001-06:00

A lot of my blogger friends have been very prolific lately, having decided to write an entry in their online journals every single day for the next month. I am very happy for them, and look forward to reading their posts with great anticipation. Last year I participated in the blogging frenzy myself, but after much reflection and gnashing of teeth, I have decided not to join in again this year. For one thing, my output lately has been pathetic -- a paltry sum of only nine posts during the month of October, and only one so far in November -- so I have very little faith in my ability to come up with a post each day this month. And even if I did, they would be horrible. To give you a perfect example of this, a friend in the UK (whom I refer to as "The Madman Across The Water") recently sent me a little bit of British Humour (hah!) that goes like this:

"Council tax re-valuers want to charge us more if we live in a nice area. So, that ought to mean discounts for those of us who live in rough areas. We have a huge council house at the end of our street. The extended family who live there is run by a grumpy old woman with a pack of fierce dogs. Her car isn't taxed or insured, and doesn't even have a number plate, but the police still do nothing. Her bad tempered old man is famous for upsetting foreigners with his racist comments. A shopkeeper blames him for ordering the murder of his son and his son's girlfriend, but nothing has been proved yet. All the kids have broken marriages except the youngest, who everyone thought was gay. Two grandsons are meant to be in the Army but are always seen out in nightclubs. The family's odd antics are always in the papers. They are out of control. I mean, honestly - who would want to live near Windsor Castle?"

Now keep in mind that had I been participating in the Big Blog-athon this month, that little bit of piffle you just read above would have taken up an entire post, people. Worse yet, since groaning about Nablopomo is one of the most popular topics to write about during Nablopomo, there would be at the very least several entries expressing the general theme "I have nothing to write about, but I'm posting anyway", as I did ad nauseum last year. I might even be reduced to posting full-color photos of my big toe. There would be a great hue and cry in the comments of "For the love of God, someone stop him before he posts again!"

No, it would not be pretty, and you should thank me for not writing every day. I am doing you a favor, honestly.

However, since Nablopomo is a hot topic in the Blogosphere right now and thousands of people are participating, I thought I would write at least one post about it as there seems to be a lot of confusion about what "Nablopomo" means and how it got started. While many people think it stands for "National Blog Posting Month", I know the true story.

In reality, NaBloPoMo was the name of the wise chief of a small, relatively obscure group of Indians who lived in upstate New York in the early 1800's. NaBloPoMo of The PoCoNos, as he was known, was different from most other Indians of his day who were warlike and uncommunicative; instead, Nablopomo was well-educated and had traveled extensively, and taught his people advanced language skills which they would use in creative, often sarcastically humorous ways.

One day in the late fall of 1807, the Pocono Tribal Council had gathered for one of their big pow-wows. There was an exchange that went something like this:

Indian #1: "All hail Nablopomo, our wise and well-educated Chief!"

Rest of Indians (in unison): "Huzzah!"

Nablopomo: "Thank you my brothers."

Indian #2: "Tell us, oh wise Nablopomo. The sun sinks low in the sky and the days are becoming short. Our people are bored and restless and in need of an activity which will bring them together in peace and harmony. What shall we do?"

Nablopomo: "I have a vision. I want all the tribe to go into the forest and gather tree bark and berries. We will grind up the tree bark with water, pound it into a paste and press it into thin sheets. After it dries into parchment, we will mix the berry juice with animal tallow and make it into ink. Then, every day for a month, we will use chicken feathers dipped in this ink to record every detail of our lives. We will write down all of our thoughts about every thing that happens to us or anyone we know, and then attach these writings to the log of a big tree in the center of camp. Each day, the tribe will gather at this big log, or "b'log" as I will call it for short, to read these writings."

(Indians look confused and murmur nervously amongst themselves. Finally one speaks up.)

Indian #3: "But Nablopomo, the cold of winter approaches and this is surely much work and effort to do these things you ask. How will it benefit the tribe?"

Nablopomo: "We will all feel really good about ourselves and have a great sense of accomplishment."

(Silence.)

Nablopomo: "And maybe we'll bake cookies."

Rest of Indians (in unison): "Huzzah!"

Nablopomo: "Hey, don't bogart that peace pipe."

And so it came to pass that every day for the next month, Nablopomo and his tribe indeed wrote down everything that crossed their minds, and posted their thoughts on the big log for all to see. They posted recipes for pemmican and caribou, and drew pictures of their family and pets.

There was also much gossip about members of other tribes. For example, among the nearby Buffalo Spears clan was a young squaw who was said to have been able to calm savage beasts with her lovely singing voice, and mesmerize young braves with her lithe movements. But then her singing became mostly just grunts and moans, and when she tried to dance she stumbled about clumsily and nearly fell over. She began wearing skimpy buckskin outfits and staying up all night. Finally, tribal elders were forced to take her two young papooses away from her. It was just embarrassing, really, but for some reason all the tribes were fascinated by her actions and wanted to write about them.

We know about all of this today because the writings of Nablopomo and The Poconos are all that survived of the tribe. Sadly, because they were so busy making parchment and ink, and writing and posting for the entire month, they neglected to gather food and supplies or to insulate their teepees in advance of the rapidly approaching harsh winter, and the entire tribe perished of cold and starvation during a terrible blizzard in early 1808.

There is a great lesson to be learned here, and that lesson is this: "Nablopomo and The Poconos" would make a excellent name for a rock and roll band.

What computer operating system are you using?
	Windows Vista
	Windows XP (any version)
	Windows 95 or 98
	Apple/Mac (any version)
	Linux (any flavor)
	Other/I have no freaking idea

Get your own damn poll