Awhile back, I posted that I was changing things up a bit. Healthier living, etc. I just thought that, in the interest of keeping myself honest, I should provide an update. And also, because Sue asked in the comments last time and I forgot to respond.
I haven't had fast food as a "regular" meal since that day. I have had it in airports and once when everything else was closed at like 10:30pm, but I was enabled to do so by the healthiest and most in-shape person I know so I don't count that either. I'd give myself an A- or B+ on that aspect. My avoidance of soda has also continued pretty much unabated (with the same occasional travel-related exceptions).
The second part of the equation, exercise, has met with less resounding success. I continue to have ankle pain after runs of any distance (2.5 miles or more) and the pain sometimes lasts for 3-5 days. Some good post-run stretching advice put the kibosh on most of it, but every now and then it pops back up and ruins my week for running. It is frustrating, and I am concerned that it is because I still weigh too much. C+ for running.
On that topic, I was approximately 233 pounds back in the winter. I am now between 215 and 220 depending on the day. It is a good start, but if I can't get past this running thing, I fear I will plateau where I am. Suggestions are welcome. B- for weight lost.
July 23, 2009
July 22, 2009
But Your Home is Your Home
(3 posts in as many days! Don't fret, I'll disappear again soon I'm sure.)
UPDATE: See, Obama agrees with me. But man, he went on at length. Somebody is going to take issue (wrongly) with the "police acted stupidly" portion. Even though it was the police "acted stupidly in arresting him after they had discovered no crime taking place." Which is 100% truth.
-----------------------
There's been a minor news story making the rounds lately concerning Henry Louis Gates, a professor at Harvard, being arrested for (basically) breaking into his own house. You can read more about it here, though most of the story is reaction now.
Mr. Gates has alleged that he is the victim of profiling and racism by the police. Of course, because this isn't a cut-and-dry case, he is now receiving a lot of flack for his own less-than-perfect role in the ordeal.
It broke down like this: Gates returns home from a trip to find his front door jammed. I'm unclear as to why--maybe an attempted B&E while he was out of town, or just weather--but he had to go around back to unlock the door. He did so, and returned to the front door but still couldn't open it. His driver helped him force it open. A neighbor, apparently saw all this and called the police, reporting that two black men were breaking into the house. In broad daylight, of course. And Gates walks with a cane, like most burglars.
I'll stop right there because that, my friends, is racism. I don't know the neighbor's goals or purposes, but calling the police on your black neighbor because he is trying to force open his door is extraordinarily shady. It is not, as some say, "being a responsible neighbor" because if you were responsible, you'd know he was your neighbor.
Skip ahead, though, to where Gates is inside and on the phone to see about repairs to the front door when the police arrive. Now, I don't know the specifics of what they saw, and we never will now that this has become a big deal, but if you see a 60+ bespectacled man on the phone in an allegedly broken-into house, and he walks over to you with a cane, you might assume right off the bat that he's not a burglar.
The problems arose when the police refused to show Gates their badges, and Gates got super pissed about being accused of burglarizing his own house. These were both unreasonable errors; however Gates is a private citizen and is allowed to be pissed off, unreasonable, and generally rude while in his own home. Police need probable cause or a warrant to enter your house, and for good reason. It is your home, and--surprising libertarian bent on my part--you shouldn't be made to do anything you don't want to do inside your own home.
But the police are not entitled to be rude, disrespectful, and unreasonable. They are the police, and to enforce the law with clean hands, you have to play everything above board. If they had simply received his identification and left, Gates could have made a stink about it but he'd have far less ammunition.
Instead, they refused to give their names, and insisted Gates step outside to discuss the situation. That's unusual by itself, because it indicates that the police did, in fact, have an idea that he lived there, because otherwise they'd have probable cause to go in and get him as a "burglar". When he did come outside, they arrested him for disorderly conduct. On his own porch.
That is some serious bull. Gates, and everybody else, is completely allowed to be an asshole to people while in his own home. You don't have to be his friend or visit him if he is. The police do not have a right to pull you out of your home, no matter how belligerent you are, without probable cause or a warrant for your arrest. These guys had neither, and made the colossally bad decision of arresting one of the nation's most eminent scholars on a trumped up charge.
I'm not saying Gates has clean hands here. It is easy to say he should have held back on the race card business, but when you've studied profiling for years, and then find out your idiot neighbor called the cops because they thought you were breaking into your own house, you're allowed to be skeptical. And then the police fed right into his skepticism by harassing and arresting him.
Anyway, ya'll know I'm not black. I don't pretend to understand what it's like to be profiled. But I understand how pissed off I would be if someone--race aside--called the police on me in my own home. It's up to the police to act professionally, and boy did they fail miserably.
Final tally: one racist neighbor, one asshole cop, and one jerk academic. But the seeming tie between the cop and academic goes to the academic, who was at home.
UPDATE: See, Obama agrees with me. But man, he went on at length. Somebody is going to take issue (wrongly) with the "police acted stupidly" portion. Even though it was the police "acted stupidly in arresting him after they had discovered no crime taking place." Which is 100% truth.
-----------------------
There's been a minor news story making the rounds lately concerning Henry Louis Gates, a professor at Harvard, being arrested for (basically) breaking into his own house. You can read more about it here, though most of the story is reaction now.
Mr. Gates has alleged that he is the victim of profiling and racism by the police. Of course, because this isn't a cut-and-dry case, he is now receiving a lot of flack for his own less-than-perfect role in the ordeal.
It broke down like this: Gates returns home from a trip to find his front door jammed. I'm unclear as to why--maybe an attempted B&E while he was out of town, or just weather--but he had to go around back to unlock the door. He did so, and returned to the front door but still couldn't open it. His driver helped him force it open. A neighbor, apparently saw all this and called the police, reporting that two black men were breaking into the house. In broad daylight, of course. And Gates walks with a cane, like most burglars.
I'll stop right there because that, my friends, is racism. I don't know the neighbor's goals or purposes, but calling the police on your black neighbor because he is trying to force open his door is extraordinarily shady. It is not, as some say, "being a responsible neighbor" because if you were responsible, you'd know he was your neighbor.
Skip ahead, though, to where Gates is inside and on the phone to see about repairs to the front door when the police arrive. Now, I don't know the specifics of what they saw, and we never will now that this has become a big deal, but if you see a 60+ bespectacled man on the phone in an allegedly broken-into house, and he walks over to you with a cane, you might assume right off the bat that he's not a burglar.
The problems arose when the police refused to show Gates their badges, and Gates got super pissed about being accused of burglarizing his own house. These were both unreasonable errors; however Gates is a private citizen and is allowed to be pissed off, unreasonable, and generally rude while in his own home. Police need probable cause or a warrant to enter your house, and for good reason. It is your home, and--surprising libertarian bent on my part--you shouldn't be made to do anything you don't want to do inside your own home.
But the police are not entitled to be rude, disrespectful, and unreasonable. They are the police, and to enforce the law with clean hands, you have to play everything above board. If they had simply received his identification and left, Gates could have made a stink about it but he'd have far less ammunition.
Instead, they refused to give their names, and insisted Gates step outside to discuss the situation. That's unusual by itself, because it indicates that the police did, in fact, have an idea that he lived there, because otherwise they'd have probable cause to go in and get him as a "burglar". When he did come outside, they arrested him for disorderly conduct. On his own porch.
That is some serious bull. Gates, and everybody else, is completely allowed to be an asshole to people while in his own home. You don't have to be his friend or visit him if he is. The police do not have a right to pull you out of your home, no matter how belligerent you are, without probable cause or a warrant for your arrest. These guys had neither, and made the colossally bad decision of arresting one of the nation's most eminent scholars on a trumped up charge.
I'm not saying Gates has clean hands here. It is easy to say he should have held back on the race card business, but when you've studied profiling for years, and then find out your idiot neighbor called the cops because they thought you were breaking into your own house, you're allowed to be skeptical. And then the police fed right into his skepticism by harassing and arresting him.
Anyway, ya'll know I'm not black. I don't pretend to understand what it's like to be profiled. But I understand how pissed off I would be if someone--race aside--called the police on me in my own home. It's up to the police to act professionally, and boy did they fail miserably.
Final tally: one racist neighbor, one asshole cop, and one jerk academic. But the seeming tie between the cop and academic goes to the academic, who was at home.
July 21, 2009
Movie Cliff's Notes: "Knowing"
Caution: this post is for those who don't want to lose 2 hours of their life watching a movie that they thought "might be okay". It's not. Read here to find out everything, including whether it's even watchable for camp value.
What's the deal?
Nic Cage's son gets a letter from a super creepy little kid in 1959. Via a time capsule. But instead of pictures of rocket ships and moon colonies, it's just a series of numbers. Because she was a super creepy kid. The time capsule was her idea too, 'natch.
Numbers aren't scary. What else you got?
Nic Cage is a recent widower, probably because pretty much anybody would fling themselves into a fire if they were married to him. His wife did. His son is creepy and maybe deaf, but not, because he can hear perfectly. There is one line of dialogue relating to this. I'm pretty sure it exists only so they can do some fairly sappy sign-language stuff to each other, without explaining it to the non-signing audience. Whatever.
That doesn't even sound relevant.
It's not. Sorry. So Nic Cage sees the date and body count for 9/11 randomly on the paper that his kid stole from the school. He overdoses on caffeine pills or something and spends all night looking up disasters and figuring out that every major loss of life in the world for the past 50 years is noted, time and date, on the paper. There are other numbers between each date that he can't figure out, though, even though he is an astrophysicist and they are longitude/latitude coordinates. He gives it to another scientist who can't figure it out either, even though everyone single person in the audience is probably shouting out "It's coordinates!" at this point.
Anyway, he freaks the hell out.
But are numbers on a piece of paper really scary?
No, and that's why there are also very ominous blonde guys who look like IKEA catalog models, or maybe winners of a Buffy the Vampire Slayer character costume contest, milling about in black dusters. They don't do anything until the last 20 minutes of the movie, except scare the crap out of the audience by staring at little kids. And collecting smooth black rocks for absolutely no relevant reason.
So... the numbers mean what?
There are, unfortunately for us, only 3 more incidents listed on the sheet when Cage does his sleuthing. He happens to be driving right next to one (a surprisingly violent and grisly airplane crash) and he seeks out the next in NYC (a less-surprisingly but still overly grisly subway accident). The next is like, 2 days later and doesn't have a body count. Nic is concerned. He seeks out the creepy little girl, but she's dead so he finds her grown-up daughter and grand-daughter instead. And stalks the hell out of them.
Why would he do such a thing?
Because he's Nic Cage and he can't help but lurk. He makes friends with the lady after stalking her and her daughter to the museum (with his son, by the way, who asks no questions and is probably used to his dad's psychotic behavior). Then he drops the we're-all-gonna-die bomb on her while they have coffee in the museum cafe. She reacts poorly, and fulfills the audience's fantasy by running away as fast as possible.
So we're really just figuring out what this last disaster is going to be, right? How much of the movie does that take? Probably the last 70 minutes or so. Also, the Spikes are moping around scaring kids, and Nic Cage is by-the-way estranged from his dad and hasn't opened his wife's last birthday present to him, and because the script says she has to come back, the lady shows up at Nic's house to chat about the end of the world. Which her mom, RIP, predicted.
Did you fast-forward at this point?
I should have. Lots of hand-wringing. There are solar flares, by the way, making it unseasonably warm and very conveniently disrupting cell phone usage during moments of dramatic tension. But not at later moments when, because satellites always get better in the middle of solar flaring, Nic has to call his dad and make peace.
I like my Nic Cage movies either funny (Raising Arizona) or batshit-crazy (The Wicker Man). What's in this movie for me?
I'm not sure we can top Wicker Man's bee business, but how about Nic Cage driving down the road shouting, "THE CAVES WON'T SAVE US!" into a cell-phone? It's pretty close to hilarity at that point.
Sum it all up for us, won't you?
Turns out, the Spikes are aliens. They planted the whole warning thing in the creepy little girl 50 years ago because obviously, the best way to warn the Earth about deadly solar flares would be to drive a single 8-year-old crazy by whispering numbers to her so continuously that she carves them into a door with her fingernails. I guess NASA wasn't returning their calls.
Is that the twist? Seems lame.
No, the lamer twist is that even though the Spikes are aliens, and even though they've been hanging around for 50 years and can see the future, they've decided that they don't have the energy to save humanity. They've just got a lot going in right now, you know? Instead, they're only going to save Nic Cage's son and the creepy girl's granddaughter, and spirit them off to an alien Iowa where trees grow REALLY huge.
Why was there a whole list of dates then? Why not just the last one, where the world is destroyed?
Good fucking question. THERE IS NO REASON TO LIST OUT ALL THE DATES. It is never explained, it's just there to be creepy and weird and maybe to give "weight" to the last date. You know, "Since the whole list is true maybe we should worry about the last item." Oh wait, never mind, because there's nothing anybody can do about giant solar flares. It's all a big tease.
So what, we all die?
Except for approximately 2 dozen little kids, who are deus ex machina'd at the last second to live on the aforementioned Iowa-planet. With no supervision, but lots of waves of grain to run through. Nic Cage and his dad reunite and become stranged, and then literally 45 seconds later are burned to a crisp along with everything else on the planet. Bummer.
Jesus.
Yeah. Also the aliens are angels.
Thanks for warning me about this movie. Any reason to watch it, even on cable?
Well, there's the crazy-bad acting by pretty much everybody in the movie. The aforementioned "CAVES!" line is only one amidst many that are laugh-out-loud stupid. If you like seeing our entire planet engulfed in flame, or an elk on fire (really!), it's got that too.
But you'll be left wondering why the Spike aliens gave these kids the numbers, only to go ahead and personally grab 'em right before the end of the world. Were the kids supposed to warn people? Was Nic Cage? Ultimately, the Spikes could've saved us all 2 hours and just nabbed those kids without all the useles Cassandra stuff. For an advanced alien intelligence, this was a pretty epic FAIL on their part. And on the part of director Alex Proyas, who has officially squandered every last drop of his Dark City-related good will.
What's the deal?
Nic Cage's son gets a letter from a super creepy little kid in 1959. Via a time capsule. But instead of pictures of rocket ships and moon colonies, it's just a series of numbers. Because she was a super creepy kid. The time capsule was her idea too, 'natch.
Numbers aren't scary. What else you got?
Nic Cage is a recent widower, probably because pretty much anybody would fling themselves into a fire if they were married to him. His wife did. His son is creepy and maybe deaf, but not, because he can hear perfectly. There is one line of dialogue relating to this. I'm pretty sure it exists only so they can do some fairly sappy sign-language stuff to each other, without explaining it to the non-signing audience. Whatever.
That doesn't even sound relevant.
It's not. Sorry. So Nic Cage sees the date and body count for 9/11 randomly on the paper that his kid stole from the school. He overdoses on caffeine pills or something and spends all night looking up disasters and figuring out that every major loss of life in the world for the past 50 years is noted, time and date, on the paper. There are other numbers between each date that he can't figure out, though, even though he is an astrophysicist and they are longitude/latitude coordinates. He gives it to another scientist who can't figure it out either, even though everyone single person in the audience is probably shouting out "It's coordinates!" at this point.
Anyway, he freaks the hell out.
But are numbers on a piece of paper really scary?
No, and that's why there are also very ominous blonde guys who look like IKEA catalog models, or maybe winners of a Buffy the Vampire Slayer character costume contest, milling about in black dusters. They don't do anything until the last 20 minutes of the movie, except scare the crap out of the audience by staring at little kids. And collecting smooth black rocks for absolutely no relevant reason.
So... the numbers mean what?
There are, unfortunately for us, only 3 more incidents listed on the sheet when Cage does his sleuthing. He happens to be driving right next to one (a surprisingly violent and grisly airplane crash) and he seeks out the next in NYC (a less-surprisingly but still overly grisly subway accident). The next is like, 2 days later and doesn't have a body count. Nic is concerned. He seeks out the creepy little girl, but she's dead so he finds her grown-up daughter and grand-daughter instead. And stalks the hell out of them.
Why would he do such a thing?
Because he's Nic Cage and he can't help but lurk. He makes friends with the lady after stalking her and her daughter to the museum (with his son, by the way, who asks no questions and is probably used to his dad's psychotic behavior). Then he drops the we're-all-gonna-die bomb on her while they have coffee in the museum cafe. She reacts poorly, and fulfills the audience's fantasy by running away as fast as possible.
So we're really just figuring out what this last disaster is going to be, right? How much of the movie does that take? Probably the last 70 minutes or so. Also, the Spikes are moping around scaring kids, and Nic Cage is by-the-way estranged from his dad and hasn't opened his wife's last birthday present to him, and because the script says she has to come back, the lady shows up at Nic's house to chat about the end of the world. Which her mom, RIP, predicted.
Did you fast-forward at this point?
I should have. Lots of hand-wringing. There are solar flares, by the way, making it unseasonably warm and very conveniently disrupting cell phone usage during moments of dramatic tension. But not at later moments when, because satellites always get better in the middle of solar flaring, Nic has to call his dad and make peace.
I like my Nic Cage movies either funny (Raising Arizona) or batshit-crazy (The Wicker Man). What's in this movie for me?
I'm not sure we can top Wicker Man's bee business, but how about Nic Cage driving down the road shouting, "THE CAVES WON'T SAVE US!" into a cell-phone? It's pretty close to hilarity at that point.
Sum it all up for us, won't you?
Turns out, the Spikes are aliens. They planted the whole warning thing in the creepy little girl 50 years ago because obviously, the best way to warn the Earth about deadly solar flares would be to drive a single 8-year-old crazy by whispering numbers to her so continuously that she carves them into a door with her fingernails. I guess NASA wasn't returning their calls.
Is that the twist? Seems lame.
No, the lamer twist is that even though the Spikes are aliens, and even though they've been hanging around for 50 years and can see the future, they've decided that they don't have the energy to save humanity. They've just got a lot going in right now, you know? Instead, they're only going to save Nic Cage's son and the creepy girl's granddaughter, and spirit them off to an alien Iowa where trees grow REALLY huge.
Why was there a whole list of dates then? Why not just the last one, where the world is destroyed?
Good fucking question. THERE IS NO REASON TO LIST OUT ALL THE DATES. It is never explained, it's just there to be creepy and weird and maybe to give "weight" to the last date. You know, "Since the whole list is true maybe we should worry about the last item." Oh wait, never mind, because there's nothing anybody can do about giant solar flares. It's all a big tease.
So what, we all die?
Except for approximately 2 dozen little kids, who are deus ex machina'd at the last second to live on the aforementioned Iowa-planet. With no supervision, but lots of waves of grain to run through. Nic Cage and his dad reunite and become stranged, and then literally 45 seconds later are burned to a crisp along with everything else on the planet. Bummer.
Jesus.
Yeah. Also the aliens are angels.
Thanks for warning me about this movie. Any reason to watch it, even on cable?
Well, there's the crazy-bad acting by pretty much everybody in the movie. The aforementioned "CAVES!" line is only one amidst many that are laugh-out-loud stupid. If you like seeing our entire planet engulfed in flame, or an elk on fire (really!), it's got that too.
But you'll be left wondering why the Spike aliens gave these kids the numbers, only to go ahead and personally grab 'em right before the end of the world. Were the kids supposed to warn people? Was Nic Cage? Ultimately, the Spikes could've saved us all 2 hours and just nabbed those kids without all the useles Cassandra stuff. For an advanced alien intelligence, this was a pretty epic FAIL on their part. And on the part of director Alex Proyas, who has officially squandered every last drop of his Dark City-related good will.
July 20, 2009
On Debt
When I left the D.C. area to go to law school, I had one credit card from MBNA that I had gotten in college. Until I started working, I had paid it off almost completely every time I'd gotten a statement. Working for less than $30k a year in D.C. started to drive the balance upward so that it was never fully paid off. And since I had been paying it off so well for 4+ years in college, my limit was something like $13,000 at the time.
Enter law school. It is an expensive place to go, and the loans cover most of it--although the loans are both federal and private, which is expensive--the incidentals are not insignificant.
Cut to 2005/2006. MBNA has been bought by my bank, Bank of America, and in the ensuing years they have continually upped my credit limit to a staggering $22,000. Unfortunately, my inability to find employment immediately after law school left me with little option except to pile it on the card. Or at least, in my uneducated mind, there was little option.
Eventually, I lost my wallet and Bank of America, being the kind souls that they are, decided not to give me my credit card back and closed my account. Balance needing payment, of course. I don't know about you all, but if you've ever tried to pay off $20,000 at an interest rate of 24.99%, let me tell ya: it's like bailing out a rowboat with a thimble.
But I got a job, a pretty good one, and got help from my parents to get past the 90% interest/10% principal status I was stuck in. And paid down the loan as diligently as possible.
And then on Friday, I paid $756 to the credit card, and brought the balance to $0 for the first time since probably 2001. I decided to share that here because I consider it a major financial victory, and that maybe it can serve as a cautionary tale to those considering using credit cards to survive.
Find another way. It is an embarrassing state to be in, to have such bad credit that you have to go card-less for 3 years (as I have just done). It is embarrassing to have to get your parents to help you pay down such things (though, that is what parents are for, and I am paying them back as of now).
But thanks to the parents, and to a fairly frugal lifestyle this past 2+ years, I am free.
Now about those law school loans...
Enter law school. It is an expensive place to go, and the loans cover most of it--although the loans are both federal and private, which is expensive--the incidentals are not insignificant.
Cut to 2005/2006. MBNA has been bought by my bank, Bank of America, and in the ensuing years they have continually upped my credit limit to a staggering $22,000. Unfortunately, my inability to find employment immediately after law school left me with little option except to pile it on the card. Or at least, in my uneducated mind, there was little option.
Eventually, I lost my wallet and Bank of America, being the kind souls that they are, decided not to give me my credit card back and closed my account. Balance needing payment, of course. I don't know about you all, but if you've ever tried to pay off $20,000 at an interest rate of 24.99%, let me tell ya: it's like bailing out a rowboat with a thimble.
But I got a job, a pretty good one, and got help from my parents to get past the 90% interest/10% principal status I was stuck in. And paid down the loan as diligently as possible.
And then on Friday, I paid $756 to the credit card, and brought the balance to $0 for the first time since probably 2001. I decided to share that here because I consider it a major financial victory, and that maybe it can serve as a cautionary tale to those considering using credit cards to survive.
Find another way. It is an embarrassing state to be in, to have such bad credit that you have to go card-less for 3 years (as I have just done). It is embarrassing to have to get your parents to help you pay down such things (though, that is what parents are for, and I am paying them back as of now).
But thanks to the parents, and to a fairly frugal lifestyle this past 2+ years, I am free.
Now about those law school loans...
July 14, 2009
Sotomayor
In my continuing quest to tank any future judicial appointments for myself, I've got some opinions on this whole Sotomayor confirmation process.
First of all, boo-fucking-hoo to all the Republicans who want to take issue with Sotomayor's "wise Latina" comments. Yeah, she rather obliquely disparaged some old white male judges. You know what group has made some really terrible decisions in the past 2 centuries? Old, white male judges. I'm not saying that a "wise Latina" would have necessarily made any better decisions, but she certainly has a perspective that some of those old cantankerous bastards could've used.
If I were her, I'd respond to questions about this comment by saying, "You know what? I AM better at making some decisions than some of you old white bastards. Yes, you, on the Senate Judiciary Committee. My heritage doesn't control my decisions, but it informs them and it does a damn sight better than your whitebread upbringing. Next question."
"But why..."
"NEXT QUESTION. Don't make me come up there, Sessions."
But then maybe that's why I'll never be on the Supreme Court.
Second of all, that New Haven Firefighter case is not controversial. Yes, it was struck down by the Supreme Court. FIVE TO FOUR. That means that four judges of the Supreme Court agreed with Sotomayor's ruling. It is beyond asinine to say that she was way off the reservation when four of the most esteemed legal minds in the world agreed with her.
This is posturing by the Republicans to an insane degree. Only Lindsey Graham seems to see the writing on the wall: unless Sotomayor starts disrobing during testimony or firing shots into the air, she's going to get confirmed and there's absolutely squat the Republicans can do about it. She should have more confidence and tell them to go to hell.
First of all, boo-fucking-hoo to all the Republicans who want to take issue with Sotomayor's "wise Latina" comments. Yeah, she rather obliquely disparaged some old white male judges. You know what group has made some really terrible decisions in the past 2 centuries? Old, white male judges. I'm not saying that a "wise Latina" would have necessarily made any better decisions, but she certainly has a perspective that some of those old cantankerous bastards could've used.
If I were her, I'd respond to questions about this comment by saying, "You know what? I AM better at making some decisions than some of you old white bastards. Yes, you, on the Senate Judiciary Committee. My heritage doesn't control my decisions, but it informs them and it does a damn sight better than your whitebread upbringing. Next question."
"But why..."
"NEXT QUESTION. Don't make me come up there, Sessions."
But then maybe that's why I'll never be on the Supreme Court.
Second of all, that New Haven Firefighter case is not controversial. Yes, it was struck down by the Supreme Court. FIVE TO FOUR. That means that four judges of the Supreme Court agreed with Sotomayor's ruling. It is beyond asinine to say that she was way off the reservation when four of the most esteemed legal minds in the world agreed with her.
This is posturing by the Republicans to an insane degree. Only Lindsey Graham seems to see the writing on the wall: unless Sotomayor starts disrobing during testimony or firing shots into the air, she's going to get confirmed and there's absolutely squat the Republicans can do about it. She should have more confidence and tell them to go to hell.
July 1, 2009
So Much! Too Much?
Man, I step away for a minute and like, 15 different things happen. Let's get into it.
The King of Pop is dead. Long live the King? There is much gnashing of teeth and hand-wringing about how to "celebrate" the life of such screwball. On the one hand, he made some great music. This is an area in which if you disagree, you are Wrong. Sorry, but while you don't have to like the music (that's called taste) you have to appreciate what MJ put together. I can only somewhat recall, because I was so young, the fervor with which 80s-era kids loved the man. But some of those songs are eternal.
But, he was a whacko. Ultimately, I have no problem expressing remorse at his passing because, despite the messed up life he was leading, death is it. It closes the door on any redemption or the possibility of a turn-around. MJ will never call a press conference and say, "Jesus, I was pretty messed up, wasn't I? I apologize to my fans for so much screwy behavior." And even if such a statement was super unlikely, I can mourn for the lost opportunity. It is a bummer.
Senator Stuart Smalley. Not too much to say about this because Franken should have had this months and months ago; but I'm glad to see the rule of law win out in an election scenario. Coleman may have been a good man before this mess, but his inability to let it go when absolutely nothing was in his favor has lessened my opinion of him quite a bit. I don't know what kind of senator Franken will be, but it will definitely be interesting. 6 years! And away we go.
True Blood is Entertaining. But it got a lot better after the first few episodes. It's really like an adult-themes Twilight, though, which isn't so hot. Because Twilight is horrifically stupid.* But it's still pretty hokey at times, and the characters are teetering right on the edge of being too stupid for words. If Jason Stackhouse ends up sleeping with the preacher's wife, for example, and without clear explanation how it got to that, I'm gonna be pissed.
There is a piss-poor method of character development that hack writers use to establish that someone is "lusted after" or "sexually adventurous." Basically, you have the character meet the eyes of some hot young woman (it's almost always men that need this development) and then immediately cut to them having sex. Californication does this ALL THE TIME, and it's really, really lame. No explanation of how they got to that point, or the woman's motivations for doing so. It's actually a hugely sexist and misogynistic form of character development that feeds the adolescent male fantasy of being an irresistible sex machine. The women don't matter at all; they're just tools to show that this guy is "totally awesome and the chicks can't stay away!!!"
To be fair, Jason Stackhouse has benefited from better writing during his own escapades. He has only had sex with one random chick that I can recall, and that was because he was high on vampire blood. But the show is dangerously close to the "lusty eyes -> immediate sex" cut in his interactions with the preacher's wife, and it makes me wary. The fact that people are "amazed he didn't screw that Christian singer AND the wife by now" (as mentioned in my office) just shows you how close to ridiculousness his character has been.
*I've been told. Have not yet been so bored that I actually need to read those books.
The Tigers Give Me Ulcers. Jesus they win like, 7 straight and then lose a series to Houston? The ASTROS, Detroit? Come on. They're suffering from the same problems that always plague them: power outages at hitting and unreliable closers. If you include the fact that they've only got 2 or 3 reliable starters (and just one really good and reliable pitcher) it's hard to see how they're even in first in the division.
But, they are. Improbably, amazingly, they are 3.5 games ahead of Chicago. They have a chance to win the series with Oakland today (here, in Oakland) but by all objective measures they probably should have swept the lowly, last-place A's. We'll see. I will try and keep the faith.
Oh but did anyone see that Baltimore-Boston game last night? The O's came back from a 10 to 1 deficit to win! I dislike the Orioles most of the time but that's just impressive, especially against Boston.
Needless Update: Apparently blog posting is a jinx. The Tigers are sucking it up and losing 4-1 in the 6th as I write this. Verlander just gave up a homerun to freakin' Jason Giambi, who is batting .195 this year. Pathetic.
The New Draconian Recycling Plan in My Office. We now have 4 different types of trash. It includes Compost and "E-Waste" but me and my juris doctorate cannot figure out where to put the Starbucks cup. I mean, the top is plastic (Mixed-Recycling) but the cup is paper (Compostable?) but the sleeve is cardboard (Recycling?) and there's a slight bit of food still inside.
Seriously, it could not be harder to decipher if it was written by Soviet-era Russian intelligence. Candy wrappers are "Waste" but waxed cardboard cups are "Compostable" but cardboard is "Recycling". The office needs a recycling czar.
The King of Pop is dead. Long live the King? There is much gnashing of teeth and hand-wringing about how to "celebrate" the life of such screwball. On the one hand, he made some great music. This is an area in which if you disagree, you are Wrong. Sorry, but while you don't have to like the music (that's called taste) you have to appreciate what MJ put together. I can only somewhat recall, because I was so young, the fervor with which 80s-era kids loved the man. But some of those songs are eternal.
But, he was a whacko. Ultimately, I have no problem expressing remorse at his passing because, despite the messed up life he was leading, death is it. It closes the door on any redemption or the possibility of a turn-around. MJ will never call a press conference and say, "Jesus, I was pretty messed up, wasn't I? I apologize to my fans for so much screwy behavior." And even if such a statement was super unlikely, I can mourn for the lost opportunity. It is a bummer.
Senator Stuart Smalley. Not too much to say about this because Franken should have had this months and months ago; but I'm glad to see the rule of law win out in an election scenario. Coleman may have been a good man before this mess, but his inability to let it go when absolutely nothing was in his favor has lessened my opinion of him quite a bit. I don't know what kind of senator Franken will be, but it will definitely be interesting. 6 years! And away we go.
True Blood is Entertaining. But it got a lot better after the first few episodes. It's really like an adult-themes Twilight, though, which isn't so hot. Because Twilight is horrifically stupid.* But it's still pretty hokey at times, and the characters are teetering right on the edge of being too stupid for words. If Jason Stackhouse ends up sleeping with the preacher's wife, for example, and without clear explanation how it got to that, I'm gonna be pissed.
There is a piss-poor method of character development that hack writers use to establish that someone is "lusted after" or "sexually adventurous." Basically, you have the character meet the eyes of some hot young woman (it's almost always men that need this development) and then immediately cut to them having sex. Californication does this ALL THE TIME, and it's really, really lame. No explanation of how they got to that point, or the woman's motivations for doing so. It's actually a hugely sexist and misogynistic form of character development that feeds the adolescent male fantasy of being an irresistible sex machine. The women don't matter at all; they're just tools to show that this guy is "totally awesome and the chicks can't stay away!!!"
To be fair, Jason Stackhouse has benefited from better writing during his own escapades. He has only had sex with one random chick that I can recall, and that was because he was high on vampire blood. But the show is dangerously close to the "lusty eyes -> immediate sex" cut in his interactions with the preacher's wife, and it makes me wary. The fact that people are "amazed he didn't screw that Christian singer AND the wife by now" (as mentioned in my office) just shows you how close to ridiculousness his character has been.
*I've been told. Have not yet been so bored that I actually need to read those books.
The Tigers Give Me Ulcers. Jesus they win like, 7 straight and then lose a series to Houston? The ASTROS, Detroit? Come on. They're suffering from the same problems that always plague them: power outages at hitting and unreliable closers. If you include the fact that they've only got 2 or 3 reliable starters (and just one really good and reliable pitcher) it's hard to see how they're even in first in the division.
But, they are. Improbably, amazingly, they are 3.5 games ahead of Chicago. They have a chance to win the series with Oakland today (here, in Oakland) but by all objective measures they probably should have swept the lowly, last-place A's. We'll see. I will try and keep the faith.
Oh but did anyone see that Baltimore-Boston game last night? The O's came back from a 10 to 1 deficit to win! I dislike the Orioles most of the time but that's just impressive, especially against Boston.
Needless Update: Apparently blog posting is a jinx. The Tigers are sucking it up and losing 4-1 in the 6th as I write this. Verlander just gave up a homerun to freakin' Jason Giambi, who is batting .195 this year. Pathetic.
The New Draconian Recycling Plan in My Office. We now have 4 different types of trash. It includes Compost and "E-Waste" but me and my juris doctorate cannot figure out where to put the Starbucks cup. I mean, the top is plastic (Mixed-Recycling) but the cup is paper (Compostable?) but the sleeve is cardboard (Recycling?) and there's a slight bit of food still inside.
Seriously, it could not be harder to decipher if it was written by Soviet-era Russian intelligence. Candy wrappers are "Waste" but waxed cardboard cups are "Compostable" but cardboard is "Recycling". The office needs a recycling czar.
June 23, 2009
At the Movies
I will spare you all my pithy reviews of recent movies. I've seen a bunch, including Benjamin Button, The Promotion, The Proposal, Drag Me To Hell, The Brave One, and (shudder) Semi-Pro. By the way, that was in order of my enjoyment.
But let's let talk upcoming movies. It's summer, and we're in full blockbuster craptacularness mode. Starting Wednesday is the altogether unwanted Transformers 2, which faces little in the way of competition this weekend. But nobody cares about Transformers 2, in large part because Transformers 1 was largely incomprehensible and the action sequences were so loud and confusing that it doesn't bear re-watching at all.
I've long said--to, ya know, people who ask me these things--that Transformers only succeeded because of the massive amount of nostalgic goodwill it invoked. I saw it in the theater, even though I was 98% convinced it was crap. But I got goosebumps, briefly, when Optimus Prime spoke with that same gravelly voice he used in the 80s cartoon. I loved Transformers back then, man.
But nostalgia only takes you so far. In the case of Transformers, it took me about halfway through the first film. I suspect the rapid drop-off will harm Transformers 2, which will undoubtedly win the weekend (it's only up against a Lifetime-esque movie about some little girl who is conceived to give her dying sister vital organs or something). But I bet you dollars-to-donuts that the drop-off next week is substantial. It faces Ice Age 2 (meh, but the same "meh" as Transformers) and Public Enemy, which so far sounds like a much, much better film. I mean, it's John Dillinger vs. Batman.
So there you have it, my random thoughts on your upcoming cinematic offerings. For those who want to plan further ahead, the big releases after July 4th weekend are Bruno (July 10) and the next Harry Potter (which will stomp the life out of every other film on July 15th). But also watch for 500 Days of Summer, which could be good because Joseph Gordon-Levitt is an amazing actor, and District 9 which is produced by Peter Jackson.
I will not see G.I. Joe: Rise of Cobra unless terrorists call and tell me that my family is strapped to a bomb that will go off if I don't provide a ticket stub from the movie.
But let's let talk upcoming movies. It's summer, and we're in full blockbuster craptacularness mode. Starting Wednesday is the altogether unwanted Transformers 2, which faces little in the way of competition this weekend. But nobody cares about Transformers 2, in large part because Transformers 1 was largely incomprehensible and the action sequences were so loud and confusing that it doesn't bear re-watching at all.
I've long said--to, ya know, people who ask me these things--that Transformers only succeeded because of the massive amount of nostalgic goodwill it invoked. I saw it in the theater, even though I was 98% convinced it was crap. But I got goosebumps, briefly, when Optimus Prime spoke with that same gravelly voice he used in the 80s cartoon. I loved Transformers back then, man.
But nostalgia only takes you so far. In the case of Transformers, it took me about halfway through the first film. I suspect the rapid drop-off will harm Transformers 2, which will undoubtedly win the weekend (it's only up against a Lifetime-esque movie about some little girl who is conceived to give her dying sister vital organs or something). But I bet you dollars-to-donuts that the drop-off next week is substantial. It faces Ice Age 2 (meh, but the same "meh" as Transformers) and Public Enemy, which so far sounds like a much, much better film. I mean, it's John Dillinger vs. Batman.
So there you have it, my random thoughts on your upcoming cinematic offerings. For those who want to plan further ahead, the big releases after July 4th weekend are Bruno (July 10) and the next Harry Potter (which will stomp the life out of every other film on July 15th). But also watch for 500 Days of Summer, which could be good because Joseph Gordon-Levitt is an amazing actor, and District 9 which is produced by Peter Jackson.
I will not see G.I. Joe: Rise of Cobra unless terrorists call and tell me that my family is strapped to a bomb that will go off if I don't provide a ticket stub from the movie.
June 11, 2009
Just Jettison Zumaya
Baseball post incoming. Ignore if you like, there is also some angry ranting.
...
The Tigers have had a "power outage" for a couple series now. They took 3/5 from the White Sox, in Chicago, which is great but given the White Sox inability to do anything right, they should have taken at least 4. Today was the 5th game.
The Tigers, predictably, had little offense and for most of the game were behind zero to two. Zero! Against a mediocre Chicago pitcher! They finally scored one in the last few innings, and then in the top of the 9th, Curtis Granderson hits a home run with a man on base to tie the game (the Sox had scored another, it was 3-1 at the time).
Your regular baseball fan might celebrate this. Your 2009 Tigers fan knows this is a dangerous situation, because now the Tigers have to rely on the bullpen to send the game into extra innings.
I love Jim Leyland (the manager) for what he's done with this team. But sometimes, I cannot fathom his thought process. Today, he decided to put in the utterly useless and almost ALWAYS disastrous Joel Zumaya. Zumaya was on the disabled list for awhile this season, and since returning has shown no ability to work an inning with any semblance of confidence.
He promptly allows two men on, commits a throwing error, and walks the bases loaded with no outs. In the bottom of the 9th. Then, oh so predictably, he gives up the game winning single and that's that.
I know that you have to look at all aspects of the team when assigning blame. The hitting was pathetic today, with only Ryan Raburn providing an RBI against the starting pitcher. Raburn is good but he should not be the go-to guy for hits. Cabrera and Ordonez went hitless. Pathetic against a pitcher with a 5.0+ ERA.
But then, putting in ZUMAYA of all people, to hold the lead? Zumaya needs quite a bit of rehab work first. He needs a 6th, 7th or 8th inning where the Tigers have a 5-0 lead or better. And at this point, I think he needs to get this from another team.
Fernando Rodney's meltdown the other night (he walked the bases loaded, which you really shouldn't do as a closer) has brought the Tigers back to the sad 2008 season, which featured lukewarm hitting and absolutely no reliable closers. Somebody needs to take a hard look and do some housecleaning in the bullpen.
/rant off. It's just so depressing.
...
The Tigers have had a "power outage" for a couple series now. They took 3/5 from the White Sox, in Chicago, which is great but given the White Sox inability to do anything right, they should have taken at least 4. Today was the 5th game.
The Tigers, predictably, had little offense and for most of the game were behind zero to two. Zero! Against a mediocre Chicago pitcher! They finally scored one in the last few innings, and then in the top of the 9th, Curtis Granderson hits a home run with a man on base to tie the game (the Sox had scored another, it was 3-1 at the time).
Your regular baseball fan might celebrate this. Your 2009 Tigers fan knows this is a dangerous situation, because now the Tigers have to rely on the bullpen to send the game into extra innings.
I love Jim Leyland (the manager) for what he's done with this team. But sometimes, I cannot fathom his thought process. Today, he decided to put in the utterly useless and almost ALWAYS disastrous Joel Zumaya. Zumaya was on the disabled list for awhile this season, and since returning has shown no ability to work an inning with any semblance of confidence.
He promptly allows two men on, commits a throwing error, and walks the bases loaded with no outs. In the bottom of the 9th. Then, oh so predictably, he gives up the game winning single and that's that.
I know that you have to look at all aspects of the team when assigning blame. The hitting was pathetic today, with only Ryan Raburn providing an RBI against the starting pitcher. Raburn is good but he should not be the go-to guy for hits. Cabrera and Ordonez went hitless. Pathetic against a pitcher with a 5.0+ ERA.
But then, putting in ZUMAYA of all people, to hold the lead? Zumaya needs quite a bit of rehab work first. He needs a 6th, 7th or 8th inning where the Tigers have a 5-0 lead or better. And at this point, I think he needs to get this from another team.
Fernando Rodney's meltdown the other night (he walked the bases loaded, which you really shouldn't do as a closer) has brought the Tigers back to the sad 2008 season, which featured lukewarm hitting and absolutely no reliable closers. Somebody needs to take a hard look and do some housecleaning in the bullpen.
/rant off. It's just so depressing.
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