I got it from KTBuffy...

... who got it from Yi Shun:

10 firsts:
...first boyfriend/girlfriend: Beth Kinder
...first best friend: Dave Holdsworth
...first screen name: grimmbeau
...first kiss: Bridgett (last name lost to time)
...first piercings: ain’t got no
...first crush: Colleen Clendennin
...first music: Styx – “Too Much Time On My Hands”
...first car: silver Mercury Tracer
...first stuffed animal: Dapper Dan (and all that dressing-myself practice shows, don’t it?)

9 lasts:
...last cigarette: Folk Fest, 2003
...last alchoholic beverage: Margarita. Lunch. Today.
...last kiss: hmm. This morning. My beautiful grumpy wife.
...last movie seen: Wallace & Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit
...last phone call: to the bank to order new checks
...last cd played: Rumor and Sigh by Richard Thompson
...last bubble bath: The night of April 26, 2003
...last time you cried: who knows? Probably the last time I heard Cat Stevens “Father and Son” on the radio.
...last date: Heck what’s a date? We do everything together. (I should probably work on that.) Depending on the definition, either last week or this summer.

8 have you evers:
...dated one of your best friends: yep
...skinny dipped: check.
...kissed somebody and regretted it: ditto.
...fallen in love: certainly.
...lost someone you loved: yep.
...been depressed: oh yeah.
...woken up and not known where you were: got that covered too.

7 places you've been to:
...Ireland
...France
...Vancouver
...Quebec City
...San Diego
...Las Vegas
...Dominican Republic

6 things you've done today:
...ate half a burrito
...rode the train
...proofread some magazine pages
...catalogued five different types of land mines
...bought two belated birthday gifts
...listened to podcasts

5 favorite things in NO order:
...sleep
...comics
...Folk Fest
...deadlines
...Mardi Gras

4 people you can tell [almost] anything to:
...Kathy
...Greg
...Drew (or Sharon, but if it's husband stuff it's Andrew)
...Chris

3 wishes
...long & happy life together
...make a comfortable living writing
...an exterior to the house that’s not pink

2 things you want to do before you die:
...retire in New Orleans
...publish some comics

1 thing you regret:
KT wrote: not spending more time with my dad – and yeah, that’s about right.

Kung-Fu for Peace

The BBC is reporting that the Bosnian city of Mostar has unveiled a life-size bronze statue of Bruce Lee, who would have turned 65 this weekend. The story reports:

Lee was chosen by organizers as a symbol of the fight against ethnic divisions.

"We will always be Muslims, Serbs or Croats," said Veselin Gatalo of the youth group Urban Movement Mostar.

"But one thing we all have in common is Bruce Lee."

What can I say? I love the global village.

Rob

R.I.P., Pat Morita

Pat Mortia passed away yesterday. Mark Evanier has a nice post about him on his blog. All I can add is that Pat secured a place in American culture with his role as Mr. Miyagi. I've never seen any of the Karate Kid films, and yet parts of it have been familiar to me for years. And generally those parts feature Pat Morita.

Wax on, everybody.

Rob

In this time of Thanksgiving...

There's one thing we can all hope for.

Happy turkey day, all...

Rob

Golden Age Heroes

I don’t know how long they keep these up for, but check out this Worth 1000 gallery for your highbrow crimefightin’ kicks.

Rob

It Finally Clicks

So I've been hearing great things about Shopgirl, the new movie starring Steve Martin and Claire Daines. It's based on Martin's novel, which I read and enjoyed, about an older man who falls for a younger woman. It's more complicated than that -- or rather, it's just as complicated as that, which makes it more complicated than the simplistic treatment most books and movies give that subject.

I haven't seen the movie. But I've heard some really nice reviews about Steve Martin's subtle, nuanced performance of the well-off suitor. And for a few weeks now, I've been trying to reconcile this in my head with the character I remember for them book -- a neurotic, agoraphobic guy who had tics that make Jack Nicholson's character in As Good As It Gets seem like the man in the gray flannel suit.

And then it hit me -- I'm thinking of the main character of The Pleasure of My Company, the novel Martin wrote after Shopgirl. I listened to both on audio, Martin read them both, and they blended in my head. Both of them are good reading, but the two leads couldn't be more different.

What a weird movie I was expecting.

Rob

Where I Stand, and Where I Turn

I’m at one of my satellite locations in Pennsylvania. I started writing this post about a newcomer’s impression of NJ, and to give the readers at the Center of NJ Life an idea of where I’m coming from, politically. The post totally got outta hand, as you can read, below:

I used to be registered as an independent in Pennsylvania, although I would tend to vote for the more liberal candidate. Then, after the 2000 election (or whatever it was), as the Republican party got more and more conservative, I felt the only way to fight their hard-line fire was by having a strong party to oppose them, so I registered as a Democrat – first in PA, and then once I moved here. And I’m happy to say that the Democrats are finally showing a little of the backbone I’ve always dreamed of them having. I thought Reid’s closed session maneuver was magnificent, and like how the terms of the debate in Washington is changing.

Now, that’s all national stuff. On a local level, I have to confess – I’d vote for anyone, Democrat, Republican, or Satanist Party of America, who would let me make a left turn on Route 1. One of the biggest shocks of living in NJ is that, after a year and a half in Edison, I still feel like I don’t know how to get anywhere. I know a few different ways home from the train station, but my brain just doesn’t connect these routes with my home. I don’t have a visual map of any kind – it’s almost like some form of teleportation – just make a left, a right, a left, keep going, a right, and ping! I’m home.

There’s a ton of traffic out there, and I know that it’s not just a problem in New Jersey. There are more and more cars on the roads everywhere in the Northeast, on roads that in many cases weren’t built for that sort of capacity. Solutions to this problem fall into three different categories:

Civil Engineering: Widen the roads, adjust traffic patterns, that sort of thing. These are the most common solutions. This, of course, means giving more space to our roads – space that is almost certainly being used for something else. New public transportation might also fit into this category, or the next, depending on what’s being proposed.

Technological: Change what it is we drive on the roads. Smaller vehicles need less space. The Segway is an example of this – although since the President and then Gob on Arrested Development have made it a laughingstock, it certainly won’t take off like its inventors intended.

Sociological: This is, in a certain way, the most drastic sort of solution – but it leaves no physical footprint at all. If we were to shift into a 24 hour lifestyle – with almost every job having a second and third shift, with almost every workspace shared by one or two other people – there’d be no more rush hour. Or rather, there’s be three rush hours, each cut down by a third, and traffic would unjam as the roads operate at the proper capacity.

That last idea may be a crackpot solution – it’s certainly a Rube-Goldbergesque way of solving a specific problem, turning every aspect of our lives upside down to stay out of traffic jams (and maybe make a left turn on Route 1). But I can’t help think that we’re almost at a tipping point, and our current car and road system won’t be viable much longer without some changes. Maybe those changes are coming – with higher gas prices, people might drive less, or combine trips when they do. Traffic certainly isn’t Public Enemy Number One – but I hope someone comes up with some options while we still have some room to maneuver.

Rob

(Cross-posted at The Center of NJ Life)

Development Arrested

Fox is putting Arrested Development on hold. Not entirely unexpected, but horrible news just the same. I really don't understand why a show this funny gets such lousy ratings.

Rob

Bush at 36%

Per Newsweek poll.

The last time Bush saw numbers this bad, he got them from a professor.

I also notice these figures on Sploid: Is your country heading in the right direction? 47% of Iraqis think so; only 26% of Americans.

Oof.

Rob

My Main Street

I thought I'd take a moment to highlight the excellence that is downtown Metuchen. Metuchen has one of my favorite main streets in the world. A couple of highlights:

Afghan Kebab House #7: This is fantastic Middle Eastern food, served in a cozy atmosphere. There’s a dish that comes with this pistachio rice that’s to die for. I recommend opting for the lamb over the chicken; the do a really nice job with it.

Main Street has a couple of nice ice cream shops, as well as Café Paris, a neat little French bistro. My wife and I honeymooned in Paris, and it’s great to have a local source for crepes. We haven’t really been able to master them at home yet.

There’s a liquor store on the corner that I’ve only stopped in once, but I had a great experience when I did. I bought a saki set for a housewarming gift for some friends. When we were picking it up, the proprietor (an Indian man) asked if I liked saki. I said I hadn’t had it in years, but this set was a gift – and what really drew my eye to that corner of the store was the soju. He told me how much he loves a cold shot of soju after coming home from work on a hot day. He keeps it in his freezer. I’ve still got to go back and buy a bottle from him, because man, that’s good stuff.

But my point is: one Saturday afternoon, an Indian guy and a Caucasian mutt stood around for a minute, talking about Japanese and Korean liquor. That’s America, right there, boys and girls. Cheers.

Probably my favorite place on Metuchen’s Main Street is a bookstore called the Raconteur. Their motto is “Get Lit,” and I think that’s a great example of their attitude. More than simply a bookstore, they’re becoming more and more of a cultural hub in the town. They show old movies in the back of the store (or, in the summer, in the parking lot), and serve complimentary snacks and drinks. They sponsored the first annual Metuchen Film Festival (I’m kicking myself that I didn’t get a chance to go). They have readings and meetings (a new Sherlockian Society is starting up Nov. 29^th) in the store, and on top of that, they’ve got a great selection of new and used books. Give it a look.

Rob

(Cross-posted at The Center of NJ Life)

America, the Beautiful

Skippy the Bush Kangaroo offers about a hundred and fifty reasons why, with his 100 Greatest Americans list. There are some nice surprises there, and it's a great list all-around. (And Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. made-it -- woo-hoo!)

Congratulations on hopping to the finish line, Skip.

Rob

(cross-posted at The Center of NJ Life)

And Special Guest Villain... The Joker!

I'll be guest-blogging at The Center of NJ Life through the weekend. Thought you might like to know.

Rob

Relief

I just got word. Apparently National Guard members who have been recalled through IRR have been give the option to resign their commissions. They're sending the paperwork to my brother-in-law now. He's not going.

Whoever is responsible for this decision, thank you. Thank you so much.

Rob

Weird “Science” Defeated

In what was probably the most closely watched school board race in the country, all eight members of the Dover, Pa., school board that introduced creationism (so-called “intelligent design”) into the biology curriculum have been shown the door by voters.

Word is that the defeated school board members plan to spend more time with their families, including a possible group vacation to see the edge of the earth.

Rob

Good News, Everybody!

John Corzine is New Jersey's new governor. And, surprisingly, Tim Kaine is Virginia's new governor, even after (some might say because of) President Bush's last minute push for the Republican candidate, Jerry Kilgore.

But the squeaker of the night for us was mayor of Edison. The Democratic candidate, Jun Choi (who had beaten our incumbent mayor in the primary), was challenged by "People's Choice" candidate Bill Stephens. There was no Republican candidate. When I had checked in a little earlier, Stephens was ahead by a considerable amount, but in the end Choi pulled it out by 201 votes.

Mr. Mayor, Misters Governor, congratulations.

Rob

The Videotape

Some New Jersey bloggers have been hinting around about a videotape that will "dramatically change the direction of this race,"meaning the NJ governor's race. It should be showing up any time now, since it was promised in "the next 48 hours." Of course, that was almost two weeks ago. It's apparent that this was just a weaselly tactic to put an inkling of doubt into supporters of Jon Corzine. Maybe the blogger pushing the tape's existence was taken for a ride by his source, or maybe he was intentionally putting out disinformation to help his candidate win. At the moment, it doesn't really matter.

Nonetheless, this morning I've got to say he's probably right. . In the next 48 hours -- hell, in the next 24 -- a videotape will emerge that will dramatically change the nature of this race.

And I, for one, will enjoy watching Doug Forrester's concession speech when it airs.

Rob

42

In Timequake, Kurt Vonnegut writes:

"Listen: We are here on Earth to fart around. Don't let anybody tell you any different!"

Makes sense to me.

Rob

It's the Torture, Stupid

I think Fareed Zakaria is exactly right in this piece for Newsweek. Not only is torture morally amd ethically wrong, and not only is it ineffective at providing trustworthing intel, but it undermines our war effort at every step. Zakaria wrote:

This is a case of more than just bad public relations. Ask any soldier in Iraq when the general population really turned against the United States and he will say, "Abu Ghraib." A few months before the scandal broke, Coalition Provisional Authority polls showed Iraqi support for the occupation at 63 percent. A month after Abu Ghraib, the number was 9 percent. Polls showed that 71 percent of Iraqis were surprised by the revelations. Most telling, 61 percent of Iraqis polled believed that no one would be punished for the torture at Abu Ghraib. Of the 29 percent who said they believed someone would be punished, 52 percent said that such punishment would extend only to "the little people."

When you think of the victims of torture, you think of that grotesque human pyramid overseen by Lyndie England and the other "bad apples." But the fact is, as the insurgency grew, some of their recruits were people who turned against us specifically because of those practices. The very people so eager to torture to keep us safe are putting our troops in greater danger.

We can't be successful in any measure in Iraq until we hold the administrators responsible for the torture debacles of the past few years, and we come clean on the so-called "black sites" where we're holding unaccounted, unmonitored prisoners. (And, of course, the Vice President stops being the cheerleader for torture that he is today.) We have to renounce this behavior. We have to end this behavior. We have to let people know that it will never happen again.

Rob

You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry... Or Would You?

Luke at the Comics Cave directed me to this amazing optical illusion. I've never seen anything like it. It's a far cry from the Vase/Face, I'll tellya that.

Rob

Imus & Santorum

Santorum Exposed has a Quicktime clip of Senator Man-on-Dog's impromptu call to Imus's show yesterday. Brian at SE gives a synopsis, but give it a listen just to hear Imus tell Santorum he's "so misguided it's almost disturbing." And to wonder how so much horseshit can get stuffed into such a small package. He's like a neutron star of neocon propaganda.

Oh, and Santorum brings up a threesome. Funny how these self-appointed Moral Arbiters like dirty jokes the same as the rest of us, isn't it? Somebody call the FCC!

Rob

Set the wayback for November 1973

CBS News has Bush at a 35% approval rating. They also show comparison charts to where other two-term presidents were on the first anniversary of their reelections, as well as approval ratings for presidents in scandals. In November 1973, Nixon had 28% approval.

Now, as Josh Marshall says, "once you get down below, say, 40% you've really, really gotta earn every new lost point on the way down." But Bush has never been one to back down from an challenge. And Nixon is only 8 percentage points away. I think he's up to it.

Rob

5000

I just logged on to the blog at work and noticed the odometer had flipped. 5000 hits. Which is 4,999 more than Dexy's Midnight Runners ever got.

Rob

Got my mojo workin'...

..but I sure hope New Orleans doesn't lose its juju.

Newsday: Voodoo Practitioners Scatter After Katrina

Rob

Blue Blog Bloc


Earlier today Kathy & I went to a house party that was both a meetup of various NJ bloggers and an opportunity to meet Rush Holt, congressman for NJ’s 12^th District. Rep. Holt was a friendly, sensible speaker, and I’m sorry I only got there a little before he wrapped things up. But, if you weren’t there at all, don't despair. He was liveblogging at bluejersey.net, and you can read his posts here and here. Be sure to read the comments under the first link, since there’s more there as well.

Rob

I Should Be In Advertising

I was recently in a neighborhood with a sign for a company called Double D Construction. I don't know what their slogan is, but if they're in the market for one, I offer this one free of charge:

"When it's Double D, you know it's built."

Rob

Through With Carrots

I'm an idiot.

Two weeks ago, while playing D&D, I gobbled my way through a 2-pound bag of carrots. I can't vouch for every single carrot in the bag, but I know I ate the majority of them. With all that fiber, I had some gastrointestinal issues that night and the next day...but in the end, no one got hurt, and they kept me from eating the Doritos, which is their job. (Keeping me away from other orange food.)

So I tried it again this week. Another two-pound-bag of baby carrots, another D&D game. I think, if anything, I ate even less than I did the week before.

This time -- not so good. I tossed and turned all night, bloated and feverish, trying to focus my dreams and my waking brain, which seemed to be betraying me. All was a blur, as I burped my way through the night. My burps smelled a bit like carrots, but that seemed a little crazy to me. Just another trick of my fevered brain.

Finally -- after taking some Gas-X, sleeping some more, and hoping things would work themselves out, I couldn't take it anymore. I went to the bathroom for one last try. When conventional methods failed, I washed my hands and thought, "maybe I should make myself throw up."

If you're easily grossed out, I'm surprised that you're still with me. But it gets worse.

I stuck my finger down my throat and got nothing. Again, with similar results. One more time, and--hurrk!--success!

A bright orange ball of shredded carrots plopped into the toilet bowl.

These weren't digested, or even nearly so. They looked like they were ready to be combined with cabbage and mayo and made into slaw. They were the healthiest thing I've ever vomited.

I washed the carrot chunks off my hands and tried some more. I got a similar clump, larger this time. Then again, and I started getting to the carrots my stomach had actually done some work on. Still bright orange, but less solid.

After a few minutes of this, I was finished. I flushed the toilet, washed my hands again and brushed my teeth. My stomach muscles hurt, but I felt much better overall.

All, that is, except psychologically.

See, I remember a time when if I was going to throw up after a night out, carrots had nothing to do with it. (Hell, when I was in college I used to down two-pound bags of carrots in a funnel!) And yet here I was, hurling essential vitamins into the abyss. I'm an old, old man.

But I've learned my lesson. No more carrots for me at D&D.

Next week I'm bringing two pounds of grapes.

Rob

Quick Poll

Which is more irritating: Getting your knickers in a twist or your undies in a bunch?

Rob

Absence

I haven’t written anything for a little while. Some of it’s been the standard too-busy-to-blog excuse, but most is that I learned something this weekend that I really wanted to process before writing about, and I didn’t want to write about anything else until I did.

My brother-in-law, Brian, has been recalled to the National Guard. He’s been promoted to captain and is leaving for training in a few weeks, and then plans call from him to go out to California for more training for about six months. After that, he’ll be sent overseas.

The news knocked me flat. I can only imagine what he’s going through. What my sister Sally will be going through, and what their sons will be going through once they find out.

Brian left the National Guard eight or nine years ago. He'd never formally resigned his commission because he enjoyed his service, and planned to return to it when he was in his fifties, once the kids were grown. I had heard that a lot of Guard units were going to Iraq, and knew that some people who had left were being recalled. I asked him about this a while ago, and he said something like, “I’ve been out for like eight years. They’d have to be really desperate to call me.”

Aside from the fact that he’s my sister’s husband and my nephews’ father, the Guard couldn’t have made a better choice. Brian’s a sharp guy who can understand and solve problems quickly. He’s a natural leader, and I know he’ll have the people in his unit performing at their absolute best. But I’m having a hard time getting over the fact that he’s my sister’s husband and my nephews’ father and should be home with them.

I have to reevaluate my thinking about the war, and about the soldiers’ job in it. I know in my bones that we were deceived into this war, and that if the President had been honest with us about the expected costs up front, we wouldn’t be there. I have a lot of issues with the President, but the war encapsulates all of them. I think it was a wrongheaded decision, handled incompetently at the top levels. (Like Katrina, like the plan to destroy Social Security, like so many other things.)

That’s not what I’m thinking of now. I’m thinking of the soldiers on the ground, doing their level best to keep everyone safe. Of maintaining security while schools are built and votes are counted. And of presenting, one-on-one, the decent face of America. I know Brian will excel, and I hope the presence of him and others like him will foster goodwill there. We need more than we have now.

I can’t help worrying. I’ve seen the headlines, and I know the chilling landmark we passed yesterday. And I know that the future is uncertain for us all, no matter where we are when we think we’re safe, or healthy, or secure. Anything can happen anywhere. In that light, Iraq is no different from where I grew up, or where I work now. There are no guarantees.

But if I had only one guarantee to give out, I’d give it to him. To keep him safe, and return him home the same man that I’ve always been so glad to have as my brother.

Rob

Lazy Day Yesterday

Spent most of yesterday lazing on the couch, watching TV and movies and enjoying the ferret rumble. Now that the Dude has been reintroduced to the pack, he has to reassert his dominance. Kathy’s seen this sort of behavior before. I haven’t. There’s scratching, biting, chasing, wrestling, and a whole lotta chomping. The Dude and Gus are having a knockdown-dragout these past few nights, although when they get tired they’re more than happy to nap together. It’s weird, but I guess I’m getting used to it. As long as there’s not too much squealing.

We watched Buck Henry’s and Mike Nichols’ 1970 adaptation of Catch-22 yesterday. What an odd, elliptical movie. It’s certainly appropriate for such an odd, elliptical book. There are so many scenes and characters cut out, I would hardly know where to begin cataloging them all. But what there is there is engaging and mysterious, as it’s never entirely clear how the movie fits together. The cast: Alan Arkin (as Yossarian), Martin Sheen (as Charlie Sheen – nope, scratch that, as Dobbs), Martin Balsam (Col. Cathcart), Buck Henry (Col. Korn), Bob Newhart (Major Major), Art Garfunkel (Nately), Anthony Perkins (the Chaplain), John Voight (Milo Minderbinder), Jack Gilford (Doc Daneeka), Orson Welles (Gen. Dreedle) Charles Grodin (Aarfy) and Bob Balaban (Orr) can certainly be called an all-star cast, even excluding Norman Fell, Paula Prentiss, and Austin Pendleton, who have small parts. Plus Marcel Dalio, a French actor who was in Rules of the Game and The Grand Illusion. Not a bad pedigree. (I’ve gone back and added to the cast list at least three times so far, thinking, “Oh yeah…HE was in it too!”)

Afterward, tonight and this morning, we watched the commentary track, a conversation between Nichols and Stephen Soderbergh, who probably loves the film more than Nichols does. Their conversation occasionally drifts into technical minutia, but it offers some fascinating recollections of the shoot.

One thing about Catch-22: It’s staunchly anti-war. It isn’t a movie that vacillates. You’re always aware of what it’s saying, even if you’re not quite sure how it’s saying it. Ultimately, even though it’s Cols. Cathcart and Kron sending men out to die, Milo Minderbinder’s profit engine is powering the whole thing. Voight is a genial villain, the man who doesn’t get the ball rolling, but sees a way to take advantage of things as long as the ball keeps rolling. And it he has to give it a little push now and then, he’s not above that.

I want to again recommend that you read Joseph Heller’s novel. But if you can’t find the time for it, the movie’s worth a look, just the same. If you can see it with someone who’s read the book, it might be a little clearer for you. (Or it might make it murkier; who knows?)

Rob

Hussein's Big Day

Hammerheart at Captain Comics' Comics Cave directed me to Jay Pinkerton's blog -- specifically this post. Funny stuff.

Rob

Didn't Wanna Do It

I hated to do it, but I'm finally getting enough of those automated blog posts to be annoying. For a while I seemed to slip under the radar of the spammers. no more. I don't know how many times I've been praised for the information I provide about Technical Writing, and then directed to another site. I've also been directed to a great online blackjack site. I don't get a ton of these by any means, but what bugs me the most about them is that they're not commenting on the current posts -- they're somewhere deep in the archives, and I get an email notification but no clue as to how to find these posts so I can deep-six 'em. So now the word verification system is up. We'll see how long it takes the Secret Posting Agents of Marketing (SPAM) to circumvent my defenses.

Sorry about the extra step, y'all.

Rob

I Heart Keith Olberman

Come for the newscast, stay for the Happy Dance.

Rob

BusyBusyBusy

Four ferrets can make a guy busy. Too busy to post? It turns out the answer is yes.

All the ferrets are doing well. Snowball has been renamed The Dude, and Blinky is now Blink, so the group as a whole is Blink, She-Devil, Gus and the Dude.The Dude is still quarrantined, although I don't think that'll last much longer. He only has one small bit of scab that we're waiting to fall away from his neck. Throughout it all, he's been cool and happy, and a great fuzzy guy to be around.

Gus and She-Devil are two of a kind. We can usually find them wrestling each other, but when they're not thus occupied, they're getting past the various guards and wards we've put up in our family room.The screen around the baseboard heating? Breached in a day. Luckily, it doesn't get super-hot when we turn it on. Still, we've got to keep them out of it somehow.

Also, I managed to get rid of the awful blackberry bush behind our house, conveniently placed right next to a thorofare so it can scratch whoever passes by. No more! I showed the bush who's boss. And the boss was me!

More stuff: I wasjust hired to write another book. This one's on Angola, so if you know of any good books on Angolan history, please let me know. Research is beginning chop-chop. My one regret is that this pretty much scuttles Nanowrimo for me. I'll have to do my own personal Nano after my deadline. Or revise my previous one to make it readable. Which might take some doing.

Anyway, that's where I've been, and where I'm going. Or actually, it's more like where I am now. Either way, I'm

Rob

In this corner...

Despite my worries, a few choice bouts of ferret wrestling make everything better...

Rob

Ferret Day

For a few weeks now, Kathy & I had been looking forward to getting ferrets on Sunday. At first I had been worried, given that we would be taking four of them into our home. That’s a lotta care, a lotta vet bills, and—of most concern to squeamish me—a lotta poop. But I soon found myself really excited about the new arrivals, even to the point of dreaming about them. Even more than my birthday, it was going to be a real treat. I couldn’t wait to play with them once they were all situated.

Well, it was supposed to be a treat. We picked up all four ferrets late Sunday afternoon: Gus, Snowball (who isn't white), Blinky and She-Devil. We got home and put the huge cage their previous family gave us. Then we took them out of the carrier to put them in the cages. Two of them, Gus and Snowball, had little collars on. Kathy thinks they're stupid (and I gotta agree), so we took them off. Gus's came off easily. It was on pretty tight, and had made a crease in his fur. We had trouble taking Snowball's off.

It was on so tight it came off with fur and skin.

His neck was red and raw and wounded. It was horrible. Happily, it didn't seem to us that he could feel anything was wrong. I don't know why that is, but I'm glad for it.

Kathy took him to the emergency vet while I straightened up the room they'll be staying in for a while. But instead of playing with the ferrets like I was looking forward to, I just looked at them like they were strangers, wondering what they thought of their new situation. I was shaken, afraid to touch them.

Eventually Kathy came home with a hurt ferret (that we have to keep isolated from his friends), some medicine and a hefty vet bill. We set Snowball up in his own little cage, resolved to change his name, and watched some TV to calm down. Before we went to bed, we took She-Devil out (she was the only one awake) and played with her a little. It centered us and made us both feel a little better. But I can't say that I slept well last night.

Rob

Post-Birthday Post

Last year, I posted 35 entries for the 35 years I was alive. This year, I was hoping to get out of the house a little more than that. But it was a rainy Saturday, perfect for getting up late, and after a 3:30 pancake breakfast with Kathy and my mom- and sister-in-law, I had to face the fact that it was essentially a lazy day.

A good one, though. Kathy & I went out to see A History of Violence, which isn’t all the critics have cracked it up to be, but I still enjoyed it. Then we came home and had my birthday dinner of crabcakes, with angel food cake for dessert. Kathy outdid herself with both of them.

Then we watched Shaun of the Dead, which Kathy gave me on DVD. Wotta great movie. I still crack up thinking about them singing “White Lines” with that zombie.

A happy birthday, all in all.

Rob

grindgrindgrind

This could be the longest day, ever.

Ever ever.

Rob

Feelin' Groovy

For the most part, that is.

I went to the doctor yesterday, and after hearing my symptoms, he suggested that it might not be a cold after all, but a more nasty allergy than I'm used to . I disagree, but he's a doctor, and I'm not. He wrote me out a few prescriptions -- for a nose spray, some Allegra D, and an antibiotic, telling me to have the antibiotic scrip filled only if I started feeling worse, and getting mucus and all. He didn't want me left without medicine over the long weekend (looks like he gets Columbus day off; not me, sadly).

Well, I am getting a bit of mucus now, but on the whole, I feel a lot better. Maybe because I stopped taking Sudafed (which he warned me was making my blood pressure skyrocket -- to the point where he wants to see me in a week to see if its gone down).

Please go down, blood pressure! I love my steaks and my pizzas!

On the other hand, Monday begins a new stretch at the gym. So maybe I'll get healthier that way.

Rob

A little tune

I'm ridin'...
Ridin'...
Ridin' the Sudafed Railroad....
and I don't know if I'll make it home alive...

(cue banjo)

Rob

Anti-School

More on Blackjack Bill Bennett, via Kevin Drum. In a nutshell: This former Secretary of Education wanted public schools to fail. How very Republican.

Rob

SPX Report

Since I'd already submitted my NJ Carnival of Bloggers link, I included my SPX Con Report as a rather extended update in a previous entry. This one here, in fact.

Rob

William Bennett Can Stick His Moral Compass Up His Ass

The radio host said: "You could abort every black baby in the country, and the crime rate would go down."

I know that they have to let him speak at the Gambler's Anonymous meetings ("Hi Bill!"), but do they have to give this holier-than-thou racist yahoo a radio show? I wonder how many Republican rallies this guy speaks at?

Rob

Serenity Now!

Thanks to an offer from Josh at Talking Points Memo, Kathy & I had a chance to see a preview of Joss Whedon's Serenity tonight.

I was floored.

This is good stuff. I don't say it as a fan of Firefly, the show it's based on; I've only seen one episode. But this was flat-out great. I don't want to say too much about it -- there's plenty to surprise you and get your pulse racing. But unlike a lot of action/adventure movies, there actually feels like there's something at stake. And unlike the staid SF of Star Trek, the people actually act like people, instead of uniforms with people in them. This is an awesomely entertaining movie, and you'll do yourself a favor if you don't read any reviews more detailed than that. Just go see it.

(Man, that Firefly DVD set is going to start flying off the shelves this Friday...)

Rob

The best thing about chickens...

...is that the come home to roost.

Tom Delay indicted, steps down as Majority Leader.

Rob

Hey! There I Am!

I haven't had time yet to post about this weekend (with the Small Press Expo, Jeff's wedding, and other events) but there's a good SPX review here at Mike Manley's blog. Mike's a Philly-area artist who's done a ton of comics work, both oncompany-owned characters like Captain Marvel and his own material like Monsterman. He's also the editor of Draw! magazine. But my main point is this: scroll about a third of the way down through his con report.Over a the caption "The Philly Crew" is a group of cartoonists sitting at a table. But in front of them, and actually facing the camera, are (leftto right) my wife Kathy, me, and my friends Jessica and Mike. It looks likeI'd just picked up my sample copies of the hurricane benefit anthology (from the Baton Rouge Cartoonists Society) that Mike (Bencik, not Manley) and I had a two-page story in.

And yeah, I'm psyched about it. But I also think it's damn cool that we're all in a photo on Mike Manley's blog.

Robert from the BRCS and Richard and the other guys at the Philly Cartoonists Society were very cool, by the way.

UPDATE:

Here’s a bit more about the Small Press Expo. It’s all bundled into this post since it’s the link I provided to the Carnival of NJ Bloggers this week. (Funny how delivery can drive content, innit?)

So Kathy & I headed south for the weekend, first to Bethesda, Md., then to Falls Church, Va, The only reason I’ve ever gone to Bethesda is this: Small Press Expo. It’s the comics convention that in many ways, doesn’t feel at all like a comics convention. There’s not Superman or Spider-Man, or even Hellboy or the Savage Dragon. There’s just a bunch of in independent creators selling the small-print-run books they’ve worked on, often by themselves.

There’s wonderful stuff here. Carla Speed McNeil’s Finder, for instance, is a terrific b/w comic set in a science-fiction world of nomads and clans. It’s wonderfully realized, and I won’t be able to do it justice. So go here. And here, where she discusses her new online plans for the comic. I had a chance to speak to her about it this weekend.

I picked up a bunch of anthologies, from the Hurricane Relief book put out by the Baton Rouge Cartoonists Society (It's the one that Mike & I have a two-page story in. You can order it here; all proceeds go to the Red Cross), to the Philadelphia Cartoonists Society Anthology. I also grabbed one put out by the con itself.

I had a good conversation with Don MacDonald, an amazing artist who’ll be publishing a book on Machiavelli in 2006, and I also spoke with one of the guys who publishes the playful and informative Action Philosphers comic. I’m waiting to have a decent chunk of time before I dig into Alex Robinson’s Box Office Poison, a hefty trade paperback I bought at the show, and I’m waiting for Bone Sharps, Cowboys, and Thunder Lizards, Jim Ottovani’s newest comic on paleontology to arrive in the mail (he’d sold out on the con floor).

Plus, I had a great time hanging out with friends Mike and Jessica. Mike and I really have to work on more comics stuff together. He has half a script of mine, and hasn’t done much with it beyond character design. But I can’t really harp on him for not getting any further into it, since, as I said, he has half a script.

After the con we stopped off at a New Orleans-style restaurant, where I had some terrific seafood jambalaya and a bottle of what may be my favorite southern beer, Abita Turbodog. TURBO!

Rob

An Astounding Coincidence

Surprise, surprise.

Rob

Overheard on the Train

"Yeah, he's fucking me, but I don't know why. What's his motivation to fuck me?"

That's an honest-to-god quote from a woman sitting across the aisle from me on thetrain, talking on her cell phone at around 10:30 tonight.

If I can add my two cents, it's this: His motivation to fuck you? It's fucking you. I've been married for a little over two years, but I haven't been out of the game that long. Believe me: We're not that complex.

Froma completely objective point of view, the woman on the phone was... well...plain. Which is fine. Plain has never been a serious obstacle to any guy's libido. Not a big secret.

What may be a big secret? Plain has never really been a serious impediment to any woman'slibido, either. Trust me; I'm a plain guy. And--once I found some self-confidence--I did just fine. It's the confidence that's the key, not the looks.

Testify, my semi-attractive bruthas.

Rob

Bzzzzzraaoooommmmmmmowowowowowwww

One of the reasons I like my electric toothbrush is that, by simply opening and closing my mouth slightly during its operation, I can change the pitch, creating a didgeridoo-like effect while I brush.

It's the yuppie-harp.

Rob

Okay, heroes...

Check out Alien Loves Predator. How did this escape my notice for so long?

(Thanx, Alan M.)

Rob

Bush Tease

The President comes off like a callous, indifferent asswipe in Brian Williams' blog. There's probably a reason for that.

I am duty-bound to report the talk of the New Orleans warehouse district last night: there was rejoicing (well, there would have been without the curfew, but the few people I saw on the streets were excited) when the power came back on for blocks on end. Kevin Tibbles was positively jubilant on the live update edition of Nightly News that we fed to the West Coast. The mini-mart, long ago cleaned out by looters, was nonetheless bathed in light, including the empty, roped-off gas pumps. The motorcade route through the district was partially lit no more than 30 minutes before POTUS drove through. And yet last night, no more than an hour after the President departed, the lights went out. The entire area was plunged into total darkness again, to audible groans. It's enough to make some of the folks here who witnessed it... jump to certain conclusions.

Rob

Got Plans Sunday Night?

I'll be participating in Freshly Squeezed II, a play reading this Sunday, organized by Jason Green for Wild Child Productions. It's at the Theatre for the New City, and there will be short plays read from Jason, Mac Rogers, James Contois and myself.

The plays will be performed by Brian Luna, Tiffany Clementi, Jennifer Moses (who was in my most recent Spontaneous Combustion play), Gerry Lehane, Jennifer Terpak, David Ian Lee, Anne Johnson and Laura Benson.

My plays are short vignettes I wrote about a trip to New Orleans I took with my buddy Chris way back when. Yeah, Chris; the time-share of the damned.

It should be a fun night. Admission is free, but no one would object if you want to throw a couple bucks toward the theatre space.

Here are the details:

THEATRE for the NEW CITY
155 1st Avenue, New York, NY
Sunday, September 18, 7:00pm
Phone: 917-854-6493

The closest Subway Stops to THEATER FOR THE NEW CITY
are:

6 at Astor Place & Lafayette Street - Walk 3 blocks East to 1st Avenue.

L Train at 1st Avenue and 14th Street.

N,R,W Train at 8th Street and Broadway.

F,V Train at 2nd Avenue and Houston Street.

Hope to see you there!

Rob

More than 50% of U.S. Teens Have Had Oral Sex

According to a the National Campaign to Prevent Teen Pregnancy. The 54-55% figure may be a little off, but it's certainly more than a handful. So to speak.

Reuters has more.

Rob

Rove's in Charge of Katrina

Shameless.

Rob

Another Music Smackdown

Sploid reports that cops in Los Angeles busted a rap concert to benefit Katrina victims. We'll probably hear more about this.

Rob
(I'll have an update on the developments in the Utah rave raid soon, promise.)

Kyle Baker fans, take heart

Although it looks like Plastic Man has been cancelled, the Beat has the goods on a hot new exclusive.

Rob

Justice at Home (Plate)

In his opening statement of his confirmation hearings, John Roberts used a baseball analogy (a pretty good one, in my estimation) to explain how he saw his role as Chief Justice: he's like a baseball umpire. "It's my job to call balls and strikes and not to pitch or bat." It's a simple explanation, and one that will certainly play well over TV and radio.

Ed Kilgore at Newdonkey.com takes it further (on a handy double-play from Armando at dailykos.)

Rob

Snakes Aloft!

Doc at the Comics Cave brought this brief Samuel L. Jackson interview to my attention. It's the pause for emphasis that gets me.

Rob

I'm never more nervous...

...than when I'm driving a tank of propane for the grill back from the hardware store. I'm on high, extra-jumpy alert for any little bump or jostle. It's like driving all night, hopped up on crystal meth with two dead hookers in the trunk and a busted tail light.

Maybe I've said too much.

Rob

Recovery

Mike Parnell is a pastor with experience in flood relief. He'll be traveling from Virginia to Mississippi to help with recovery efforts there...and blogging about it.

Go see what he's doing. It's on-the-ground coverage from someone who's unquestionably one of the good guys.

Rob

Freedom's Just Another Word...

...for doing things our way or else.

As Yakov Smirnoff used to say, "What a country!"

Rob

The Dog of Netflix

Woody: "I thought I was one step ahead of her the whole time, but she played me like Chinese chess."
Gina: "Checkers."

One great thing about Netflix is that, since you're paying for a service and not for each particular film, you get to see some movies that you wouldn't necessarily pay for. Sometimes they're better than you might think.

And then there's Palmetto, easily the worst film we've ever gotten in the mail. Easy phony kidnapping plot turns real, with all the fingers pointing at the patsy. Starring Woody Harrelson, Elizabeth Shue and Gina Gershon, this movie wants to be noir in the worst way. Which is exactly how it goes about everything.

Confession time: I rented this primarily to see Elizabeth Shue play a femme fatale. I've liked her in other movies -- Adventures in Babysitting always springs to mind, but I liked her in The Saint, too -- and I've always found her very easy to look at. But man oh man is she lousy in this. Clumsy double entendres, clumsy seductions -- it's almost like she's acting in a porn movie, without any of the nudey bits. I think she's supposed to be insane, but I'm not quite sure. That isn't a good sign.

And Harrelson, I know, is capable of much more than he shows here. Here, he's supposed to be a former reporter, an innocent man released from two years of wrongful imprisonment, but he comes off as a dimbulb without a shred of competence in anything he tries. He can't even lie well. It's like he's playing Woody from Cheers, but in way over his head and without the least glimmer of charm.

Gershon is pretty much wasted as the nice girl staying at home while Harrelson screws everything up. Her first scene is a ham-handed smouldering reunion on the street after he's released, but after that, she's whitebread. Why hire Gina Gershon to be so bland?

With so much bad acting, much of the blame has to fall on the director... um.. looking it up... Volker Schlondorff. IMDB says that most of his films (with the exception of The Handmaid's Tale, which I liked -- although I wonder how much I'd like it after having read the book, but at the very least, introduced me to Margaret Atwood) aren't in English. Suddenly everything falls into place.

Well, I've rambled on long enough, and you've probably gotten my point: Palmetto sucks. And you'll giggle during the steamy parts because it's so damn stupid.

Rob

Twirlie-whirlies

Via ktbuffy, here's a short imagined monologue in McSweeney's: Trent from Swingers (the Vince Vaughn character) performs an exorcism. Go forth and read.

Rob

Anti-Looting Sign Updated

Since I posted this last week, I thought you'd like to know things were progressing. Via warrenellis.com.

Rob

Horrifying.

The government of Jefferson Parrish was keeping people from walking across the Crescent City Connection bridge away from New Orleans.

Kevin Drum has details.

Rob

Eleven days

The countdown begins.

Rob

Operation CYA

The Repugs see "this whole hurricane thing" as just another image problem for their beloved chimp of a president. So naturally, steps are being taken to keep the truth away from the voters. Steps like keeping reporters away from rescue efforts, as Josh Marshall details.

And stuff like avoiding an independent investigation like the 9/11 committee in favor of a Republican-run one.

It's the usual Republican fuckery, only more urgent now, as their feet seem to finally be held to the fire. Hide the bodies, hide the mistakes, cover up and whitewash and hope everyone forgets.

It's all a result of the negligence on the part of our leaders. People should have been evacuated sooner. FEMA should have responded more quickly. The President shouldn't have gutted the funds New Orleans needed to keep itself safe. Time and time again, the chimp and his handlers have swept mistake after mistake under the rug. He's a hideous president. He's a god-awful embarassment. I am ashamed that our country elected him, and hope to god that nothing else this bad happens on his watch.

Because he's not equipped to handle it in any way, shape or form.

I can't convey how angry I am, and how let down I feel by the whole electoral process that would let this ape become president. Better we let the cast of Survivor decide than the American people. Better we leave it to chance, a big game of keno with 100 people picked at random from all walks of life. Better we get an infant, because at least a baby will cry when he shits himself. Better we pick our leaders with pie-eating contests or spelling bees or mumblety-peg. Better we all hang ourselves, and whoever dies last gets America.

Better no one than him.

Rob

Bruuuuuce!

Paul Harris, ofKMOX in St. Louis, is one of my favorite raido talk show hosts -- and withoutthe internet, I'd never have heard of him. Check out his interview with B-movie legend (and zombie-slayer) Bruce Campbell -- there are a couple great stories about Sam Raimi's The Quick and the Dead (which he wasn't even in!), as well as other goodies.

Also, Harris (via his Picture of the Day feature) links to this great anti-looting sign in New Orleans. The city ain't dead when its spirit lives on.

Rob

Presidential Incomptence

As always, read Frank Rich:

Most of all, we're going to have to face the reality that with this disaster, the administration has again increased our vulnerability to the terrorists we were supposed to be fighting after 9/11. As Richard Clarke, the former counterterrorism czar, pointed out to The Washington Post last week in talking about the fallout from the war in Iraq, there have been twice as many terrorist attacks outside Iraq in the three years after 9/11 than in the three years before. Now, thanks to Mr. Bush's variously incompetent, diffident and hubristic mismanagement of the attack by Katrina, he has sent the entire world a simple and unambiguous message: whatever the explanation, the United States is unable to fight its current war and protect homeland security at the same time.

And here's this gem from Avedon Carol:

Any sufficiently advanced incompetence is indistinguishable from malice.

That, as they say, is the shoe that fits.

Rob

Hear Ye

The Times Picayune has posted an open letter to the President.

Rob

On Beyond Rehnquist

A few months ago, when Justice O'Connor retired, I wrote:

I hope Rehnquist retires soon. It's a given that Bush will try send one ultraconservative to the Supreme Court. But it'll be more difficult to send two up at the same time than it would be to get one approved, then another 6 months or a year later.

I know some folks disagreed with me about this (although not in the comments, so I can't remember who it was), saying Bush will nominate ultraconservative after ultraconservative, no matter how many positions are open. They may be right. It looks like we'll have a chance to see, for better or worse. But I think it'll be a little while before the Supreme Court speculation game steals the front page away from Katrina's destruction and the aftermath.

Rob

Disgusted

Our response time to Katrina is appalling. We're the greatest nation in the world, and we can't do better than this? It's stupefying.

Here are some links, all adding up to an appalling lack of leadership, from the President on down.

On the late arrival of the National Guard: Yahoo! News

On halting the Superdome evacuation to clear the nearby Hyatt (where people were clean and dry and not killing each other): Assiciated Press

On Michale D. Brown, the head of FEMA, being the former commissioner of the International Arabian Horse Association (before he was, y'know, fired). Cronysim at its worst, courtesy of Knight-Ridder.

Here's Editor and Publisher on Bush's cuts to the Southeast Louisiana Urban Flood Control Project (SELA). This is what conservatism brings -- the idea that states and cities should be able to raise the money for these sorts of things themselves. It works wonders, doesn't it?

And finally, U.S. Senator Mary Landrieu's (D-LA) account of yesterday's presidential appearance at the efforts to restore the 17th Street levee. Turns out that most of the machinery and equipment was pulled in just for another one of his increasingly transparent its-all-under-control photo-ops. And here's more, from Laura Rozen: Apparently the food distribution point Bush was photographed in front of was torn down immediately after the shoot. My stomach turns just thinking about it.

But at least Halliburton will make some money! (Houston Chronicle)

You know, there were times prayed that the rest of the country would see this president as I do: an inept thug who puts this country in more and more danger every day he's in office. But I'd rather have 52% of the country think he's perfect than to have something like this happen. This is awful.

And it wouldn't have been half as bad with competent leadership.

Rob

UPDATE: Noah Diamond comes to the same conclusions, only citing a lot more evidence to back him up.

Religious Right: "N.O. Deserved It!"

Fuckers.

Rob

New Orleans

Needless to say,I'm horrified by the devastation that Katrina has wrought. I can't watch much of it on TV; I prefer to get my news from the internet, not for immediacy, as usual, but for a bit of distance.

Of course, some of that coverage is more immediate than others. Reporters at The Times Picayune, even after abandoning their office, are giving frequent, on-the-spot updates online. I'm glued.

There are plenty of places you can give money to, such as the Red Cross, Operation U.S.A.,and others. Chances are pretty good that if you work for a large firm (as I do), your company will match your contribution in some way. It's worth looking into.

I'm feeling selfish and foolish, grieving for the loss of a city I've only visited, while so many people have lost their homes,their family, their livelihoods, their friends. It's a place my memory andmy imagination are drawn to, a place I've always wanted to live. But I don'tlive there. I just visit.

I'd give up every future visit I ever had coming, if that would put it in one piece again. It won't, of course. In fact, the opposite is probably true. Someday, not tomorrow, but someday --they'll be back on their feet again (with the help of tireless rescue and aid workers and donations from generous people all over the world). Afterthat they'll still need money. Beyond the incredible expense of dealing with the disaster, businesses will have been dormant, possibly for months. They'll need our support in the future, not just in the now. Tourist dollars are an excellent way to do that.

(This idea is no substitute for giving now. It's just something to keep an eye on for later.)

For now, this story by Wright Thompson for the Kansas City Star offers a little hope.

Rob

The People's Bid-ness

Sharon's right. This is a freakin' scream.

Rob

(For the maybe three people who read my blog and not hers.)

Festerin’!

Back from the Philly Folk Fest for a day, and I’m still a little dizzy. It’s so strange to be completely immersed in a small community for even just a few days only to reemerge back into the world. But it certainly makes you treasure every shower like it’s your first.

The music was phenomenal. Kathy & I bought seven CDs between us; the past few we’ve only bought a few. The Red Stick Ramblers, a Cajun swing outfit, were probably my favorite band of the show. But maybe it was the Mammals, a bluegrass band with a sharp political tongue. Modern Man was certainly the funniest act we saw; it’s not on their album, but their bouncy theme song for “Abdul the Reluctant Martyr” had me in tears. The Avett Brothers have a crazy energy to their live show, and it carries through on their album, Mignonette; it’s gotten the most play from me so far. Kathy got three other discs, but I only saw one of the artists: the Wailin’ Jennies, a terrific female harmony group whose name must drive hard-of-hearing booking agents crazy. Marcia Ball, Ann Rabson, Arlo Guthrie, The Glengharry Bhoys – so much good music.

Campwise, it was fairly small this year: just me & Kathy, Jay and Mick. Fot the first time, we had a banner: we’re “The Confediracy of Duncez.” Gotta get the strategic misspellings in – no dunce is without ‘em. For some reason, we adopted the Robot Chicken theme song as a marching tune, and would cluck happily as we tromped around the muddy camp. (The very cool Lauren from Huzzah told us that there used to be another Confederacy of Dunces at fest, but they stopped coming a few years ago. I don’t remember them, but who remembers all of Fest, anyway?)

And dunces we were. Kathy and I were rushed in packing (having just come home from a vacation and being inveterate procrastinators besides) and completely forgot ponchos. They mighta come in handy on Saturday and Sunday. We did, however, have a brand new tent (which performed quite well in the rain) and an inflatable mattress (bliss!), which made camp life much more comfortable. When we weren’t soaked.

Sunday night is usually my favorite night in camp. A lot of people have gone home by then, but there’s still a decent amount who stay. There’s a lot less to see, musicwise, and I never find myself wondering what else is going on. I stand there, wobbly but completely in the now. Had a great conversation about music, movies, and technical writing with a gent named Leon who camps with the Flamingos. Wandered around the camp one last time. Enjoyed it all.

I should go now. Work needs me awake, which means I’ll need to sleep before then. But it’s hard adapting to a normal schedule again.

Rob

First Vacation Wrap-up

Honestly, I don’t have much to say except what a wonderful time we had. First of all, big thanks to Christoph, Nicole and Lucas for allowing us to share their vacation. Second, we shared a house with a ton of other people (some of them strangers), and got along famously. Seriously. Check Variety if you don’t believe me. And third, I rode some of the craziest waves of my life. Big, crashing ones that would spin you around or send you into the sand, but every so often would push you fast and far.

I’m a simple man. Good friends. Good waves. Good lady by my side. What more could I want?

Rob

Babe I'm Leavin'...

I must be on my way. I was hoping to write a bit more about the rave, but it's 3 in the morning and I have to wake up at 6. But the car is packed, and we're off to the Philadelphia Folk Festival tomorrow bright and early. Okay, dim and early, but absolutely fucking early.

So I never did write about what an awesome vacation we had last week, and I'm already onto my next one. Maybe I'll do wrapups of both at once.

It dawned on me a couple of days ago that the reason the Utah rave has me so riled is that it was singled out to be busted. I have no real worries that PA State Troopers are going to chopper down onto the festival stage this weekend and stop the show. And it's not because they've paid their permits, and it's not because none of the folkies and hippies and goofballs there would ever think of touching a drug. The real reason's plain as day: Ravers are young. And when kids step out of line, they scare grownups, and grownups strike back. Out of protectiveness or out of jealousy, grownups make kids toe the line they're unwilling to walk themselves.

I'll be back after Fest. See you then.

Rob

The Editorials Begin

Two good editorials about the Utah rave raid. Here’s a fairly measured response from the Provo Daily Herald. To my mind, the money quotes are these:

To be sure, there were a number of drug- and alcohol-related arrests and citations arising from the rave. These are fair game by any measure. Once a crime is committed, a permit may be considered null and void. But of the 43 citations reported by the Utah County Sheriff's Office, about half appear directly related to the raid itself -- disorderly conduct, failure to disperse and related acts. Most of the others could have been dealt with on a case-by-case basis, without shutting down a concert at which the majority were not breaking the law.

A massive police assault on virtually any public gathering (a BYU football game, for example) would uncover similar illegalities, from drugs to weapons to expired driver's licenses. But if a crime is committed during a BYU football game, the game is not stopped. Offenders are trundled off individually. A general suspicion that something illegal might happen at a public gathering, even a rave, may not be the best basis from which to launch a major law enforcement action.

The Salt Lake City Weekly piece, called ”Iraq in Utah” is angrier, but hardly frothing. It concludes:

“There’s something telling, too, about the fact that the Sheriff’s Office learned at noon that day where the rave would commence, but waited more than two hours into the music—until 11:30 p.m.—to make 60 arrests and demand the area be cleared. Much was made of one young raver who “overdosed on ecstasy,” and then was released to her parents. If disaster was so imminent, and warranted 90 men in uniform, why wasn’t the rave politely stopped before it started? Perhaps because the spectacle of an outdoor event, like a rave itself, is a lot more fun than sitting at home.”

Hopefully, I’ll be able to write more on this tonight, but I’m packing up for a music festival of my own to go to. Here’s hoping it ends better.

Rob

One More (trivial) Thing

Sploid is also making some hay that Utah County Sheriff James Tracy claimed that, among other (worse) things, none of the officers used profanity during the raid. This, despite the fact that the video clearly shows an officer saying "Turn that off. Turn that music off or I'll take your ass to jail."

This hardly matters, but the video is irrelevant, profanity-wise. "Throw your ass in jail" is a vulgarity, not a profanity.

Here's the difference. Vulgarity takes impolite, crude things and elevates them to the level of conversation. "Gladys, I'm gonna take a shit in your sock drawer" is vulgarity.

Profanity is taking the sacred and lowering it to the level of casual conversation. Taking the Lord's name in vain (such as "Sweet Jesus on a tandem bike!") is profanity.

Just so we're clear. And so Jesus gets his exercise.

Rob

Utah Rave Update

Sploid reports that Jason Ramsey (of Reason magazine) spoke with Utah officials to verify the existence of the permit for the rave. He writes:

"I spoke directly with Jay Stone who handles the Mass Gathering permits for the Utah County Health Department’s Bureau of Environmental Health Services, and he stated unequivocably that the permit was applied for and granted by his department.

He also agreed to write a letter to this effect upon request. The questions about whether or not the permit was issued should be answered and not up for dispute.

I am currently attempting to reach the Utah County Board of Commissioners to resolve whether or not an additional permit would have been required by their office. Initial conversations with ‘Michelle’ at their office seemed to indicate that this was not the case."

So it's possible that the "no permit" justification for the raid may not hold water. Coupled with the fact that many of the drugs the raid produced had already been confiscated by security guards (who apparently did not have the legal authority to hold them), and I'd say that the matter at least deserves further looking into.

Here's some more coverage. And here. And here. Oh, and the Salt Lake Tribune implicity confirms that Alisha Matagi was the girl thrown to the ground in the video.

Rob

Rave On

The Deseret News on the rave.

Hopefully we’ll see some editorials from these same places in the next few days.

Rob

More on the Utah Rave

I'm sure more information will come out on this, but for now, here are two more links. First, here's an ABC KTVX 4 news report that doesn't include much more information, but some new visuals, including overhead footage of the raid. (It's unclear whether it's from a news copter or police footage; but since KSL has some of the same footage below, it's probably of police origin.) It does add that the landowner and the party promoter are facing charges.

Second, here's another report and more video from KSL 5, which also states that Yancy Childs, the property owner, was arrested in the raid; earlier accounts I read just said he had been forced to leave his land. Cody Childs (no relation given) was also arrested.

One detail that seems sketchy: The woman in red the video shows being forced to the ground. Witnesses say she was kicked in the stomach. Yancy goes further: "She had a broken nose, lump on her head, and bruises on her side. It's more like Gestapo tactics instead of coming in and checking it out and making sure everything's okay."

If the woman is indeed Alaisha Matagi, her booking photo doesn't reveal those facial injuries (to my eye, at least). But I have no idea what her nose looked like before, and the lump could be on the back of her head. And, of course, there are plenty of red sweatshirts in the world; it might not be her at all.

Rob

Paging Dr. Righteous

Armed, camoed soldiers busted up a rave in Utah last Saturday night. Granted, I don't know the whole story. The official version is here. The Sploid version tells a different tale, with links to testimonials from a bunch of the people at the rave. But it's undeniable that this video is disturbing to watch. Particularly when we see them wrestling this girl to the ground.

The thing that chills me the most, honestly, is hearing the soldier say "put the camera down." If you're in the right, you're not afraid of the light.

Just wanted to get this up while it's fresh; my vacation wrapup can wait.

UPDATE: Here's another piece that relies on more firsthand accounts. And here's the sheriff's statement.

Rob

Beach Party!

I'll be hitting the shore for a few days. I might get a post or two up before then, but it's even more likely that I won't. But whatever you do with your week, for once, I won't be jealous of you.

Rob

Batman, Guantanamo, and Me

Strange thing, I’m discovering. I’m 35, and comics suddenly are meaning more to me than they have since I was in high school.

In order for you to understand, I’m going to have to give you some background. On some comic book plots. If you’re normally not into the comic-booky goodness on this site, bear with me. I have a larger point than how cool Bloodhound is. (Still cool, by the way. Cancelled, but cool.)

In case you are planning to pick some of these books up, I’ll be discussing plot points from Identity Crisis, The Omac Project, and the “Sacrifice” crossover that ran through last month’s Superman and Wonder Woman titles.

The main one is Identity Crisis. Quick rundown: Sue Dibney, wife of the Elongated Man, was murdered. One of the chief suspects is Dr. Light, a villain long considered a buffoon. During the course of the investigation, the reader discovers a secret kept by a handful of Justice Leaguers – that years ago, Sue had been raped by a much more dangerous Dr. Light. The League apprehended him moments later, but even caught, he claimed he would do it again. And these members took a vote, and decided to alter his personality magically so that he couldn’t. (They had previously erased their secret identities from other villains' minds; this was a bigger deal.)

As this was being done, things got complicated. Batman arrived on the scene, and saw what the League was doing. He objected, and the members opted to use the magic on him, as well – stripping away those ten minutes of memory.

So Light becomes a joke, and Batman is missing ten minutes of time. It might not bother anyone else, but they’re not Batman. They say it’s often not the crime that gets you in trouble, but the cover-up, and that’s the case here. In The Omac Project, we learn that Batman eventually pulled his memory back together and realized he can’t trust even the Justice League. He sets up spy satellites to monitor superhuman activity.

These have secretly been taken over in a comic-book/SF way, by a guy named Max Lord. Lord has limited mind control power, but he’s spent years working on a way to control Superman. He sets him off, having Superman beat Batman into intensive care. Wonder Woman tries to stop him, and she and Superman get into a knock-down, drag-out. Eventually she gets her Lasso of truth around Lord, and she asks him: What do I have to do to eliminate your hold on Superman. Unable to lie, he says “Kill me.”

She does.

So this is pretty much where things stand. Batman has spied on his fellow heroes. Wonder Woman has killed a man. Superman, while he didn’t participate, actually knew about the memory wipes of supervillains and didn’t say anything; they helped keep Lois safe, after all. Now some supervillains have regained their memory and have attacked the Justice League’s loved ones. And the time has come to vote again as to what to do.

This stuff has been knocking me out. It’s not all hero vs. villain stuff, or at least not all black and white. It raises all sorts of questions: Is safety worth constant surveillance? How far should a hero go to protect others? What happens when you cross a moral or ethical line in order to protect someone? Will you cross it again? Is the line permanently redrawn? And if we draw that line too timidly, and fail to act with enough force, are we culpable for any deaths that stronger action could have presented? Can we trust the people who protect us? Should we?

These questions lead to questions about superhero tropes in general. What right, for instance, does Superman have to send someone to the Phantom Zone? Why does Batman get to break and enter to find evidence of a crime, or beat up thugs for information. Why is it okay for Green Lantern to put a supervillain out of harm’s way in a green cage on the moon, but if I lock up someone in my basement I’m a dangerous sicko?

It makes me think of the internment camps at Guantanamo Bay, and the prisons in Abu Ghraib. Locking up people without due process is wrong – but is it keeping us safer? Some people think so. Torture is wrong, but some people think it’s effective, despite the evidence that the information it yields is unreliable.

What the comics let me – and people all over comic book message boards -- do is this: They let us discuss these issues of ethics, morality, power and security while keeping our preexisting political viewpoints out of it. The ideas we’re talking about are relevant to the times we live in, yet aren’t charged with the rhetoric that inflames most political discussion (including my own, certainly).

Also, it lets me look obliquely at these issues without reducing me to a quivering lump of despair and fear. Terrorists will try to attack us on our home soil again, just as Dr. Light promised to find Sue once he escaped.

This is not a new idea, I realize. Science fiction and fantasy have always addressed contemporary issues, and comics are no different. But it’s taken me a while to articulate it, since it’s more a metaphor of tone than an analogy with direct correlations in the plot.

And I have to say that I’m hooked. What I’m getting lately are adventure stories that have relevance to my own life. But instead of trying to deal with reality in the plot, their hook is in the theme: What moral compromises are we willing to make to keep our loved ones safe? It’s a fascinating struggle, and one I don’t think any hero can truly win.

Rob

The Big Squeeze

Check out Political Animal on oil. Scary.

Rob

Prophetic Dream

I am atremble.

I woke up in the middle of the night, after what I can only call a prophetic dream.

I this dream, I told myself (or someone wise that I trust told me – it’s hard to remember):

You have two mountains to climb,
Two novels to write.
One grown from hope,
The other rooted in fear.

What really freaked me out was the feeling I got that I was supposed to work on both of them at once – probably the surest way to complete neither of them.

Still, the dream also had me convinced that, with the write slopes and putting the right English on it, I could snowboard from Montana to my house and back. So nothing’s impossible, I guess.

Rob

I’m an Insensitive Lout

After rereading my post below, I want to clarify something.

When I gave my loose definition of a person as “someone with a birthday,” I was generalizing for comedic effect. Obviously, viability issues come into play, but, not having been through the whole parenthood process, I’m not really sure at what point that starts, or if it’s different for every baby, or what. Better not to go into it, I figured.

More importantly, however, I also don’t have firsthand knowledge of how a mother feels about the child growing inside her, or how a father feels about the child growing 2 feet to the left of him when they go to the movies. (Can’t pinpoint their relative positions, otherwise.) I can guess. And I didn’t mean to dismiss that bond in my earlier post.

Essentially, I was speaking of the fetus’s legal status more than the fetus itself. Splitting hairs, I know, but I think it’s important that the law doesn’t confuse children with beings with the potential to be children. If the law were to recognize a potential future event, I’d be locked up for murder a hundred times. You too, probably.

Maybe for killing insensitive louts like me.

I apologize if I upset anyone. It wasn't my intention.

Rob

Too Hot For Ya?

Rest easy. Hell's about to freeze over. I have a kind word to say about Rick Santorum.

This putzwad may actually not be a hypocrite. In one area. Until he backpedals like Bizarro Lance Armstrong, that is.

See, what with all the furrowed brows and concerned tones over so-called human life (such as stem cells and whatnot), he and his cronies tend to focus a little obsessively on abortion -- when plenty of what fits their drastically lowered bar for "human" gets thrown away is bio-bags every day from fertility clinics. And Rick's against it.

And okay, I think he's wrong about this, like he's wrong about stem cells and abortion. I'm no scientist, but in the broadest possible terms, here's my definition of a person: someone with a birthday. Without that, you're not in the fraternity yet. You're pledging.

But Rick believes differently. Through and through, apparently. And while I disagree and think he's a poisonous whackjob, at least he's consistent.

So congratulations, Rick Santorum, on taking that bold stance against couples who desperately want to have kids. Say no to parenthood. Maybe infertile couples shouldn't be able to marry, either?

Rob

(P.S. In case you were searching, the kind word was putzwad...which is much more polite than santorum.)

Testing, Testing

Just wanting to see if I can get one of these new-fangled picture thingies to work. Let's see, shall we?

Well lookee that! There's Pogo!

You know, I've gotta read more Pogo one of these days. Walt Kelly's comic stip was praised up, down and middle, but I don't remember it being in our newspaper until a watered-down revival of it (without Kelly, from what I recall) showed up around when I was in high school. Didn't seem like any great shakes to me then, so I didn't read it. But the few reprints I've read -- and the out-and-out applicability of the above quote -- are reason enough to buy a fat collection and dig in.

Rob

It's Carnival Time...

...and everybody's drinkin' wine...

The Carnival of NJ Bloggers is up at the Center of NJ Life this week. Pay a visit. Find a new blog. Eat some funnel cake. Throw some beads. And by all means, join the second line and shake your thing!

Here's the link.

Rob

Okay, I did it too.

Here are the results of my 3-D humor survey:

the Wit

(65% dark, 30% spontaneous, 16% vulgar)

your humor style:
CLEAN | COMPLEX | DARK
You like things edgy, subtle, and smart. I guess that means you're probablyan intellectual, but don't take that to mean pretentious. You realize 'dumb'can be witty--after all isn't that the Simpsons' philosophy?--but rudenessfor its own sake, 'gross-out' humor and most other things found in a fraternityleave you totally flat.

I guess you just have a more cerebral approach than most. You have the perfect mindset for a joke writer or staff writer.

Your sense of humor takes the most thought to appreciate, but it's also the best, in my opinion.

PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Jon Stewart - Woody Allen - Ricky Gervais

Which is all well and good, and I like the company I keep, but what sort of motherfucking language do I have to use to get a higher "vulgar" rating, you cocksuckers?? Sixteen goddamn percent doesn't nearly fucking cut it, muthergrabber.

Just sayin'.

UPDATE: Here’s the link.

Rob

A Few Good Books

"You want me on that shelf! You NEED me on that shelf!"

Been reading a bit this summer. And listening to books on tape. Here's a rundown on my recent reads.

Catch-22. I know I wrote about this before, but I just want to say again that Joseph Heller's abusrdist look at the military (a microcosm for American society, turned up to 11 via life-and-death situations) is something to marvel at. It's very episodic, and completely disjointed in time, lulling the reader into a feeling that it's a collection of anecdotes loosely strung together, sort of like watching reruns of M*A*S*H on both TBS and the Hallmark channel, where TBS is still in the Trapper years and Hallmark is post-Radar. But then things start connecting. You might not ever realize it at first, since incidents are told from different points of view, and no one ever seems to get the full story. (Was that naked man in the tree during the funeral a hallucination? Must've been...)

The structure of the book is byzantine and rewarding, but the message ("War is stupid, and people are stupid," as Culture Club would say) is clear from the start, but gets reinforced gently at first, but then with greater and greater strength. The book is about power and aggression, a gigantic king-of-the-hill game of army against army, general against general against major against captain against sergeant. It begins amusing, and ends with desperation and brutality. Maybe the message is really "I fight authority, authority always wins." But despite the depression and the futility, there's hope in the fight. I still can't talk about it clearly, but for god's sake, read it.

Then there's The Cold Six Thousand, by James Ellroy. Man, is his writing easy to parody.

Ellroy writes. Ellroy types short sentences. Ellroy loves jive. Ellroy vibes cool. Ellroy uses racial epithets. Ellroy gut-punches readers. Ellroy works a knife around in the wound. Ellroy starts his book with Jack. Jack's in Dallas. Jack's a sitting duck. Jack's a dead man, and three guys are in the middle of it.

Ellroy tails them. They go to Vegas. They go to Vietnam. They go to Klan rallies and race riots. They plot. They undermine. They kill and age and get taken for chumps. They talk to J. Edgar Hoover. They see it all happen from the inside. Ellroy follows them through Martin. He follows them through Bobby. He watches. We watch. We see it all go down.

Good god, that's addictive. I listened to this book on tape, and the staccato sentences sometimes got on my nerves, but they set a wild, propulsive tone that never really lets go. Ellroy's one of my favorite writers, but I always need a break (and often a shower) after reading one of his books. His is not a head I want to spend too long in. If you're new to Ellroy, don't start with this one. American Tabloid introduces these characters. The Black Dahlia is also a good choice.

I also listened to Bushworld, by Maureen Dowd. It's a collection of her columns. I expected to like the more recent stuff more, as the seediness of the Bush White House has seeped into view, but it turns out the earlier columns were more illuminating. It's hard to put yourself in the mindset of a couple of years ago -- how do the older columns stack up against what we hazily remember from Pre-9-11 Bush? Otherwise, though, the book seemed repetitive and more than a little precious to me. Get it from the library and flip and skim. Don't overdose.

Probably the standout of the summer was A Million Little Pieces, by James Frey. This is a first-hand account of Frey's time in a rehabilitation center to recover from his addictions to alcohol and crack cocaine. Frey's writing style is immediate and brutally honest. I wasn't really expecting to like the book -- my brother Tom gave it to me and made me promise to read it, but the subject matter didn't interest me in the least. Shows what I know. Pieces grabbed me from the first page, and pulled me along through a ton of horrifying shit -- including a dental visit without the use of any painkillers that's about the worst thing I've ever heard about anyone actually enduring.

The best thing about the book is that you really do get a sense of Frey's struggle, but also of his accomplishments toward his recovery. He rejects a lot of the tried-and-true recovery methods -- AA's Twelve Steps -- and just pushes toward his goal with guts and determination. Along the way, he meets a number of interesting people -- chief among them is his friend Leonard, a connected wiseguy who's also getting clean. Frey's followup is called My Friend Leonard, and you can bet I'll read it as soon as it's in paperback. I can't recommend this highly enough. Thanks, Tom.

Those are my picks. Whaddya say, sirs?

Rob

Big Night

Last night Kathy & I stayed out late to see Glory Road, Greg Senf and Gregory Max's musical updating of Tartuffe with a family of televangelists. It was a lot of fun, and heck, we even got to see our friend Jesse sing! The only thing that marred the evening was the theft of one of the actors' guitars during the show. The building has security cameras, but who knows if they actually have tapes running in them. Either way, there's little chance of getting it back, and my heart goes out to her.

Years ago, I had a trenchcoat stolen from a theater. I was using it as a costume for something, and it just disappeared overnight. It's a horrible feeling, to have a place you feel is safe suddenly proven to be anything but. To get shaken up like that in the middle of a show, and still have to perform? She's a trooper, and a fine actress, to boot. I never suspected anything was wrong.

The night before, we went to another Spontaneous Combustion, in which our friend Jen wrote one piece and acted in another. It was another fun night; a couple of the plays were seriously inventive, and most of the rest were breezy, lighthearted fun. Overall I'd rank it a stronger night than the one I was in, but then, I always did like the funny.

Tonight, though? Straight home, then sleep.

Rob