The news today from the Middle East is alarming. No longer can such news be surprising but it is alarming, nonetheless. Reuters reports:
“Israel pounded Beirut’s southern suburb on Sunday, the fifth successive day of an offensive on Lebanon, with no sign that its attacks on the Hizbollah guerrilla group and civilian installations were near an end. The air strikes, which killed 35 civilians on Saturday, including 15 children, were meant to punish the Lebanese government for failing to disarm Hizbollah and letting it menace Israel's northern border, where measures just short of a state of emergency have been ordered.”
AP reports:
“Gunmen kidnapped the chairman of Iraq's Olympic committee and at least 30 others Saturday in a brazen daylight raid on a sports conference in the heart of Baghdad. Armed clashes erupted elsewhere across the capital. Parliament extended the national state of emergency as at least 27 people -- including two American soldiers -- were killed in sectarian or insurgency-related violence.”
Just think how bad it might be in that absurdly embattled region if President George W. Bush hadn’t been a visionary.
Of course, now we know the Prez was just kidding about all those Iraqi weapons of massive distraction. Still, it was the scholarly strategist Bush, with semi-shrewd but all-mean Dick Cheney at his side, who had the foresight to invent a pretext to invade Iraq out of thin air, so that America could establish permanent bases there, in order to stabilize the region and spread democracy.
So, thank your lucky stars ... uh, oh. Incoming!
Since 1985, in various formats, SLANT -- an independent voice based in the heart of Richmond, Virginia -- has offered its readers original commentary on politics and popular culture. Warning: Occasionally, that means wiseass cartoons and satirical content. Naturally, all rights are reserved.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
One reason victimless crimes stay illegal
The Handbill War: As the Biograph Theatre's manager, when I was busted in 1982 for posting a handbill that promoted a midnight show, it was a bust I deliberately provoked. I wanted to beat The City of Richmond in court. For an amusing account of an incident in that trial, which I won, click here.
By keeping ordinary things like handbills, cohabitation, gambling, and other "victimless" crimes illegal, it means just about anybody can be harassed by the long arm of the law. But it's the ones with the unfashionable attitudes that feel the boot first.
For a while the cops left hand-billers alone. Then the busts resumed in late-1984. In 1985, SLANT's first cause was to once again frame the battle with The City in a freedom-of-speech context, while insisting the pop scene depended on flyers being posted in such a way, on the people’s utility poles, to exist.
In 1986 an ad hoc group of Fan District artists and musicians formed to pepper The City with a propaganda campaign. In 1987 the local statutes governing handbill-posting in the public way were changed. Essentially, we won. Freedom of speech prevailed.
By keeping ordinary things like handbills, cohabitation, gambling, and other "victimless" crimes illegal, it means just about anybody can be harassed by the long arm of the law. But it's the ones with the unfashionable attitudes that feel the boot first.This pen and ink cartoon of mine above was created in 1983 and first published as a handbill posted on utility poles in the commercial sections of the Fan District. Later it ran in SLANT in 1986. The 'toon was part of a five-year campaign, led by yours truly, to fight off the city's anti-handbill laws. Laws that politicians and yard sale promoters routinely ignored, but bands and clubs were getting busted.
In 1986 an ad hoc group of Fan District artists and musicians formed to pepper The City with a propaganda campaign. In 1987 the local statutes governing handbill-posting in the public way were changed. Essentially, we won. Freedom of speech prevailed.
Friday, July 14, 2006
The Tenth Commandment
by F. T. Rea
According to the Old Testament, Moses heard directly from God about standards of behavior. A portion of the instructions Moses is purported to have heard, The Ten Commandments, is still well known and even in the news frequently.
There were several other rules offered atop Mount Sinai that we hear less about. If you read much of the book of Exodus, it won’t take long for you to see why. Let’s just say that some are rather old world, including the regulation of established practices such as slavery and burnt offerings.
However, the Ten Commandments are to-the-point and very basic stuff: Honor your God and your parents. Be willing to make sacrifices for what matters most to you. Don’t kill, lie, or steal, and don’t cheat on your spouse(s). Of course, even then, it depended on what “cheating” meant. In the final of the ten, Moses claimed God said people should not “covet” their neighbors’ goods.
Well, I find it interesting that after a simple list of shalt-nots, the last rule is against even thinking about a shalt-not. It seems redundant. Covet? Come on Moses, what’s the problem with a little coveting? Why not stick to Nine Commandments?
Hopefully, the reader will permit me the post-modern license to move directly from the Bible to a Hollywood thriller, in order to help Moses with his answer: In “Silence of the Lambs,” the brilliant but evil psychiatrist, Hannibal Lecter, instructs the movie’s detective heroine, who is in search of a serial killer, that people only covet what they see all the time.
Bulls-eye!
Of course the ravenous doctor was right about what fuels obsessive cravings. If one hasn’t seen it, how can one lust for it? To dwell on wanting something, to the point of no return, one must see it regularly. Coveting is a festering of the mind; it's a craving for that which one cannot, or should not, have. No good can come from it.
Today, because of the modern media, everyone sees how wealthy/powerful people live all the time. One sure thing movies, sitcoms, soaps, and the celebrity news all do -- in addition to telling a story -- is to show us how well off some people are. Then, every few minutes the advertisements tell us where to buy the same pleasures and accouterments the stars in those stories possess.
If you’ve got the dough to buy the stuff, that’s one thing. If you don’t that’s another. That might spawn some coveting.
The lifestyle of a celebrity is constantly sold to consumers as the good life. Wanting that good life is a carrot on the stick that helps drive our consumer culture. Therefore, in some ways, it has been good to all of us. My thesis for today’s rant is that there is a dark side to this strategy.
When powerless/poor people see that same contrived entertainment they want the good life too. However, if they are trapped in their circumstances and have no hope, they don’t believe the good life is available through legitimate channels. So, instead of feeling motivated to work overtime, to earn more money, the powerless are left to covet.
Eventually all that desire for the unobtainable can lead to trouble. I’m convinced that some part of the violence we have seen from teen-agers, lately, stems from their exaggerated sense of powerlessness. In the worst cases, their impatience boils over while waiting for what they imagine to be an adult’s awesome power over life and death.
The good news is that kids grow up. Most of our children won’t shoot up their schools because of frustration with having so little say-so over their schedule. The bad news is that for many of the world’s underdogs their sense of powerlessness is something that isn’t going to dissipate so easily. In the so-called Third World, the longing for First World goods and options is festering as you read this.
Meanwhile, these powerless coveters aren’t thinking about where to shop for knockoffs of what they see flaunted on the tube. Watching the images on television and the Internet -- as everyone in the world now does -- they are coveting, and at the same time, they don’t see a way for them to get over being poor in their lifetime. A hundred years ago, 50 years ago, the world's underclass wasn't wired into the rest of civilization. Now it is.
Now they know how soft life is for the well-off. History isn’t much help here because it tells them that the unwashed masses usually have had to take what they want by force. How much longer we can rely on the gentle patience of the world’s hungriest millions is anybody’s guess.
In the meantime, perhaps the other side of “thou shalt not covet” is “thou shalt not flaunt.” If the wisdom of the ages -- the Ten Commandments -- suggests we should discourage destructive cravings in the shadows, perhaps we ought not to promote them so much with our brightest lights.
According to the Old Testament, Moses heard directly from God about standards of behavior. A portion of the instructions Moses is purported to have heard, The Ten Commandments, is still well known and even in the news frequently.
There were several other rules offered atop Mount Sinai that we hear less about. If you read much of the book of Exodus, it won’t take long for you to see why. Let’s just say that some are rather old world, including the regulation of established practices such as slavery and burnt offerings.
However, the Ten Commandments are to-the-point and very basic stuff: Honor your God and your parents. Be willing to make sacrifices for what matters most to you. Don’t kill, lie, or steal, and don’t cheat on your spouse(s). Of course, even then, it depended on what “cheating” meant. In the final of the ten, Moses claimed God said people should not “covet” their neighbors’ goods.
Well, I find it interesting that after a simple list of shalt-nots, the last rule is against even thinking about a shalt-not. It seems redundant. Covet? Come on Moses, what’s the problem with a little coveting? Why not stick to Nine Commandments?
Hopefully, the reader will permit me the post-modern license to move directly from the Bible to a Hollywood thriller, in order to help Moses with his answer: In “Silence of the Lambs,” the brilliant but evil psychiatrist, Hannibal Lecter, instructs the movie’s detective heroine, who is in search of a serial killer, that people only covet what they see all the time.
Bulls-eye!
Of course the ravenous doctor was right about what fuels obsessive cravings. If one hasn’t seen it, how can one lust for it? To dwell on wanting something, to the point of no return, one must see it regularly. Coveting is a festering of the mind; it's a craving for that which one cannot, or should not, have. No good can come from it.
Today, because of the modern media, everyone sees how wealthy/powerful people live all the time. One sure thing movies, sitcoms, soaps, and the celebrity news all do -- in addition to telling a story -- is to show us how well off some people are. Then, every few minutes the advertisements tell us where to buy the same pleasures and accouterments the stars in those stories possess.
If you’ve got the dough to buy the stuff, that’s one thing. If you don’t that’s another. That might spawn some coveting.
The lifestyle of a celebrity is constantly sold to consumers as the good life. Wanting that good life is a carrot on the stick that helps drive our consumer culture. Therefore, in some ways, it has been good to all of us. My thesis for today’s rant is that there is a dark side to this strategy.
When powerless/poor people see that same contrived entertainment they want the good life too. However, if they are trapped in their circumstances and have no hope, they don’t believe the good life is available through legitimate channels. So, instead of feeling motivated to work overtime, to earn more money, the powerless are left to covet.
Eventually all that desire for the unobtainable can lead to trouble. I’m convinced that some part of the violence we have seen from teen-agers, lately, stems from their exaggerated sense of powerlessness. In the worst cases, their impatience boils over while waiting for what they imagine to be an adult’s awesome power over life and death.
The good news is that kids grow up. Most of our children won’t shoot up their schools because of frustration with having so little say-so over their schedule. The bad news is that for many of the world’s underdogs their sense of powerlessness is something that isn’t going to dissipate so easily. In the so-called Third World, the longing for First World goods and options is festering as you read this.
Meanwhile, these powerless coveters aren’t thinking about where to shop for knockoffs of what they see flaunted on the tube. Watching the images on television and the Internet -- as everyone in the world now does -- they are coveting, and at the same time, they don’t see a way for them to get over being poor in their lifetime. A hundred years ago, 50 years ago, the world's underclass wasn't wired into the rest of civilization. Now it is.
Now they know how soft life is for the well-off. History isn’t much help here because it tells them that the unwashed masses usually have had to take what they want by force. How much longer we can rely on the gentle patience of the world’s hungriest millions is anybody’s guess.
In the meantime, perhaps the other side of “thou shalt not covet” is “thou shalt not flaunt.” If the wisdom of the ages -- the Ten Commandments -- suggests we should discourage destructive cravings in the shadows, perhaps we ought not to promote them so much with our brightest lights.
-- 30 --
RiverCity Rapids has moved
Missing something? Can't find RiverCity Rapids? Snoopy has moved the site to a new location from which to observe the cultural and political doings in Richmond, Virginia. So click on the link above and you'll find your old friend there.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Jim "Jaws" Gilmore returns
It’s summertime and look who’s back in the news -- James S. “Jaws” Gilmore III. Richmond Times-Dispatch columnist Jeff E. Schapiro writes that the former Virginia governor is seriously considering another run for office in, “Gilmore may run again for governor.”
“Former Gov. Jim Gilmore is taking the first steps toward a possible comeback, launching a state political-action committee that could help bankroll a campaign for governor in 2009.”
Well, I can’t imagine another candidate the Democrats would rather run against in 2009. And, I must wonder what Republicans in their right mind asked Gilmore to run. I bet you one chilly Pabst Blue Ribbon that it’s entirely his idea.
Perhaps the reader wonders why I put the nickname “Jaws” on Jim Gilmore. Well, five summers ago, when his own dismal disapproval ratings were below sea level, he launched a commission, a Shark Task Force, to study the peril of shark attacks on Virginians.
With the news of a pair of shark attacks off the nearby coast, Gilmore must have thought he heard opportunity knocking on the door. Immediately, the semi-savvy player donned a pith helmet and shark-hunting khaki outfit to strike a pose.
Standing in defiance of an enemy that no one could possibly defend, Gilmore must have imagined his popularity would soon soar again. Note: Washington Business Journal (SEPT. 5, 2001): “In response to the recent shark attacks at Virginia Beach and in North Carolina, Virginia Gov. Jim Gilmore has convened a task force to examine the issue. The shark task force will be headed by Secretary of Natural Resources John Paul Woodley, State Del. Terrie Suit (R-Virginia Beach) and several marine experts ... Florida Gov. Jeb Bush recently said that the media attention to the recent spate of attacks is overblown.”
Blithely ignoring the sitting president’s brother, Gilmore might have cocked his pith helmet to one side, to listen to what sounded like, “Knock, knock.”
In 1997 Gilmore had galloped to triumph with his No-More-Car-Tax mantra. Virginians liked his blue collar style. Then, as governor, he stubbornly stayed on that same tired workhorse issue through his four-year term, until it collapsed in a heap in the spring of 2001. Meanwhile, Gilmore’s handling of the Hugh Finn right-to-die-with-dignity case was diabolically clumsy; his handling of the Sally Mann censorship flap at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts was bull-in-a-china-shop clumsy.
So, with some justification Governor Gilmore is remembered for his stubbornness and his awkwardness. I just don‘t want anybody to forget his boldest move of all -- the Shark Task Force.
“Knock, knock....”
“Who’s there?” Gilmore may have whispered, thinking he heard the shark musical theme from “Jaws” playing in the background.
Two months after the launching of Gilmore’s Shark Task Force, Republican Mark Earley lost in Virginia, handing the keys to the Governor’s Mansion to Democrat Mark Warner. Gilmore wasn’t National Chairman of the Grand Old Party long enough to do much more than be remembered for being fired, and, of course, denying that he was fired. Note: USA Today (Nov. 30, 2001): “Gilmore resigned, effective in January, saying he wasn’t willing to commit to the extensive travel and time away from family required to prepare for the 2002 elections. He leaves after less than a year in office, a period marked by disappointing elections...”
Well, as history unfolded, the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 overshadowed all else in the news for a long time. So, lame duck Gilmore and his Virginia Shark Task Force’s findings were ignored on December 14, 2001.
Furthermore, the first sentence of the VSTF report sort of made it unnecessary to read the rest of it. Note: “In more than 390 years since the English settlement of Virginia there had never been a fatal shark attack in Virginia waters until September 1, 2001 when a 10-year old boy named David Peltier was attacked near the Little Island Fishing Pier at Sandbridge...”
The report went on to say that sharks usually live in the ocean and every now and then one of them bites a person who is also in the ocean.
Soon, late at night, Jim "Jaws" Gilmore may hear a familiar sound. “Knock, knock...”
Putting his ear to the door, Gilmore might ask, “Who’s there?”
From the other side of the door the shark music will be there, louder this time. But maybe this time there might be more -- a voice! It's a voice that will sound something like, Attorney General Bob McDonnell, or perhaps, Lt. Gov. Bill Bolling, saying, “Candygram.”
“Former Gov. Jim Gilmore is taking the first steps toward a possible comeback, launching a state political-action committee that could help bankroll a campaign for governor in 2009.”
Well, I can’t imagine another candidate the Democrats would rather run against in 2009. And, I must wonder what Republicans in their right mind asked Gilmore to run. I bet you one chilly Pabst Blue Ribbon that it’s entirely his idea.
Perhaps the reader wonders why I put the nickname “Jaws” on Jim Gilmore. Well, five summers ago, when his own dismal disapproval ratings were below sea level, he launched a commission, a Shark Task Force, to study the peril of shark attacks on Virginians.
With the news of a pair of shark attacks off the nearby coast, Gilmore must have thought he heard opportunity knocking on the door. Immediately, the semi-savvy player donned a pith helmet and shark-hunting khaki outfit to strike a pose.
Standing in defiance of an enemy that no one could possibly defend, Gilmore must have imagined his popularity would soon soar again. Note: Washington Business Journal (SEPT. 5, 2001): “In response to the recent shark attacks at Virginia Beach and in North Carolina, Virginia Gov. Jim Gilmore has convened a task force to examine the issue. The shark task force will be headed by Secretary of Natural Resources John Paul Woodley, State Del. Terrie Suit (R-Virginia Beach) and several marine experts ... Florida Gov. Jeb Bush recently said that the media attention to the recent spate of attacks is overblown.”
Blithely ignoring the sitting president’s brother, Gilmore might have cocked his pith helmet to one side, to listen to what sounded like, “Knock, knock.”
In 1997 Gilmore had galloped to triumph with his No-More-Car-Tax mantra. Virginians liked his blue collar style. Then, as governor, he stubbornly stayed on that same tired workhorse issue through his four-year term, until it collapsed in a heap in the spring of 2001. Meanwhile, Gilmore’s handling of the Hugh Finn right-to-die-with-dignity case was diabolically clumsy; his handling of the Sally Mann censorship flap at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts was bull-in-a-china-shop clumsy.
So, with some justification Governor Gilmore is remembered for his stubbornness and his awkwardness. I just don‘t want anybody to forget his boldest move of all -- the Shark Task Force.
“Knock, knock....”
“Who’s there?” Gilmore may have whispered, thinking he heard the shark musical theme from “Jaws” playing in the background.
Two months after the launching of Gilmore’s Shark Task Force, Republican Mark Earley lost in Virginia, handing the keys to the Governor’s Mansion to Democrat Mark Warner. Gilmore wasn’t National Chairman of the Grand Old Party long enough to do much more than be remembered for being fired, and, of course, denying that he was fired. Note: USA Today (Nov. 30, 2001): “Gilmore resigned, effective in January, saying he wasn’t willing to commit to the extensive travel and time away from family required to prepare for the 2002 elections. He leaves after less than a year in office, a period marked by disappointing elections...”
Well, as history unfolded, the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 overshadowed all else in the news for a long time. So, lame duck Gilmore and his Virginia Shark Task Force’s findings were ignored on December 14, 2001.
Furthermore, the first sentence of the VSTF report sort of made it unnecessary to read the rest of it. Note: “In more than 390 years since the English settlement of Virginia there had never been a fatal shark attack in Virginia waters until September 1, 2001 when a 10-year old boy named David Peltier was attacked near the Little Island Fishing Pier at Sandbridge...”
The report went on to say that sharks usually live in the ocean and every now and then one of them bites a person who is also in the ocean.
Soon, late at night, Jim "Jaws" Gilmore may hear a familiar sound. “Knock, knock...”
Putting his ear to the door, Gilmore might ask, “Who’s there?”
From the other side of the door the shark music will be there, louder this time. But maybe this time there might be more -- a voice! It's a voice that will sound something like, Attorney General Bob McDonnell, or perhaps, Lt. Gov. Bill Bolling, saying, “Candygram.”
Buzz Montsinger's comeback ... one note at a time
Richmond Times-Dispatch sportswriter John O’Connor’s Saturday (July 8th) feature -- "Toughing it out" -- on Buzz Montsinger’s spinal injury (April 30th), and subsequent rehabilitation efforts, should be read by a lot of people, for various reasons:
Buzz Montsinger (lower left) with his teammates on the Hababas softball team, circa 1977
If you remember bands such as The Escorts, Jokers Wild, and Ron Moody & the Centaurs, Buzz was in those bands. Buzz’s sturdy saxophone has been heard behind such vocalists as Steve Bassett and Robbin Thompson for decades.
If you played softball in the Fan District Softball League during its amazing 20 years of existence, 1975-94), Buzz was one of the originals on the fun-loving Hababas team.
Yes, I could go on, but if you read O’Connor’s piece that will bring you up to speed. It will also give out information about the upcoming benefit -- July 16 at Plant Zero -- for my longtime friend Buzz Montsinger, who, like lots of musicians (and some writers, too), had no health insurance. A tip of SLANTblog's cap goes out to O'Connor for his timely piece.
Note: This latest update has come in from Shannon Montsinger, Buzz’s daughter:
"On Sunday, July 16, come join us for the First Annual "Give Love To Buzz" Fest, to support Buzz Montsinger and to help him celebrate his "fifty-something" birthday. This will be the event of the year -- guaranteed!
Location: Plant Zero, East 4th Street, at Hull Street (Manchester area)
When: Sunday, July 16, 1 p.m. to 7 p.m.
Food by Big Daddy's BBQ, Cafe Diem, The Forest and Melito's.
Wine/Beer -- Cash Bar.
Raffle prizes from: Tobacco Company Restaurant; Omni Hotel; Joe Niamtu Cosmetic Surgeon; University of Richmond Spiders; Sterling Boutique; Cocoanut Jewelry; Jeff Curry Art; Joe's Inn.
A $35 donation is requested at the door. Kids free. Tickets can also be purchased at Sterling Boutique in Bon Air Shopping Center. Phone: Home (804) 261-1933; Venue: (804) 726 4442
For full details on Sunday's one-of-a-kind show, and more information on Buzz's spinal cord injury, click here.
If you remember the 1968 University of Richmond football team that beat Ohio University, 49-42, in the Tangerine Bowl, Buzz was a key player on that team. Was there ever a better Spiders team?
Buzz Montsinger (lower left) with his teammates on the Hababas softball team, circa 1977If you played softball in the Fan District Softball League during its amazing 20 years of existence, 1975-94), Buzz was one of the originals on the fun-loving Hababas team.
Yes, I could go on, but if you read O’Connor’s piece that will bring you up to speed. It will also give out information about the upcoming benefit -- July 16 at Plant Zero -- for my longtime friend Buzz Montsinger, who, like lots of musicians (and some writers, too), had no health insurance. A tip of SLANTblog's cap goes out to O'Connor for his timely piece.
Note: This latest update has come in from Shannon Montsinger, Buzz’s daughter:
"On Sunday, July 16, come join us for the First Annual "Give Love To Buzz" Fest, to support Buzz Montsinger and to help him celebrate his "fifty-something" birthday. This will be the event of the year -- guaranteed!
Location: Plant Zero, East 4th Street, at Hull Street (Manchester area)
When: Sunday, July 16, 1 p.m. to 7 p.m.
The schedule for bands to perform is as follows:
1:30 - 2:15: Steve Bassett & Robbin Thompson (solos and with Band)
2:30 - 3:15: Bruce & Adrian Olsen Band
3:30 - 4:15: Billy Ray Hatley (with Big City & Show Dogs)
4:30 - 5:15: Ron Moody & The Centaurs
5:30 - 6:30: All-Star Encore Jam
1:30 - 2:15: Steve Bassett & Robbin Thompson (solos and with Band)
2:30 - 3:15: Bruce & Adrian Olsen Band
3:30 - 4:15: Billy Ray Hatley (with Big City & Show Dogs)
4:30 - 5:15: Ron Moody & The Centaurs
5:30 - 6:30: All-Star Encore Jam
Food by Big Daddy's BBQ, Cafe Diem, The Forest and Melito's.
Wine/Beer -- Cash Bar.
Raffle prizes from: Tobacco Company Restaurant; Omni Hotel; Joe Niamtu Cosmetic Surgeon; University of Richmond Spiders; Sterling Boutique; Cocoanut Jewelry; Jeff Curry Art; Joe's Inn.
A $35 donation is requested at the door. Kids free. Tickets can also be purchased at Sterling Boutique in Bon Air Shopping Center. Phone: Home (804) 261-1933; Venue: (804) 726 4442
For full details on Sunday's one-of-a-kind show, and more information on Buzz's spinal cord injury, click here.
Photo: Danny Brisbane
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Zidane apologizes ... not!
In an age of non-apology apologies being offered routinely, as if they make anything better, head-butting French soccer star Zinedine Zidane may have raised the bar to a new level. AP reports, “Zidane apologizes for head butt.”
“'I apologize, to all the children' who watched the match Sunday, Zidane said in his first, highly-awaited comments about the act of violence that marked the end of his career. Zidane did not specify exactly what Italian defender Marco Materazzi said that enraged him, but that it was insulting to his sister and mother.
“...The France captain said he felt no regret for his act, ‘because that would mean (Materazzi) was right to say all that.’”
It seems to me Zidane would have been better off just keeping his mouth shut, than saying what AP has him quoted as saying. Basically, he’s saying he’s been forced -- by some hidden reason, perhaps money? -- to say he’s apologizing. So, he says he’s apologizing to children -- aww, isn’t that sweet? -- then he says he won’t tell us why he did it, but it had to do with protecting the honor of his mother. Oh ... and, it’s all the other guy’s fault.
Well, at least it’s nice to know that the self-centered and pampered professional athlete, who acts like a jerk, is not a phenomenon that is confined to American sports. Monsieur Zidane is not only a world-class soccer player, he’s apparently a world-class lout. Might we call him the Head Butt?
“'I apologize, to all the children' who watched the match Sunday, Zidane said in his first, highly-awaited comments about the act of violence that marked the end of his career. Zidane did not specify exactly what Italian defender Marco Materazzi said that enraged him, but that it was insulting to his sister and mother.
“...The France captain said he felt no regret for his act, ‘because that would mean (Materazzi) was right to say all that.’”
It seems to me Zidane would have been better off just keeping his mouth shut, than saying what AP has him quoted as saying. Basically, he’s saying he’s been forced -- by some hidden reason, perhaps money? -- to say he’s apologizing. So, he says he’s apologizing to children -- aww, isn’t that sweet? -- then he says he won’t tell us why he did it, but it had to do with protecting the honor of his mother. Oh ... and, it’s all the other guy’s fault.
Well, at least it’s nice to know that the self-centered and pampered professional athlete, who acts like a jerk, is not a phenomenon that is confined to American sports. Monsieur Zidane is not only a world-class soccer player, he’s apparently a world-class lout. Might we call him the Head Butt?
What It Is...
by F. T. Rea
On a cold January morning, 15 years ago, bright sunlight lit up the thin coating of freezing rain that had painted the city the evening before. In the crisp air a slender middle-aged man, a freelance artist/writer, walked at a careful but purposeful pace on the tricky sidewalk. The ice-clad trees along the street were dazzling, as seen through his trusty Ray-Bans. The wooly winter jacket his girlfriend/roommate had given him for Christmas felt good.
Since the freelancer couldn’t concentrate on his reading of the morning’s Richmond Times-Dispatch, he left half a mug of black coffee and a dozing cat on his desk to walk to the post office. He hoped the overdue check from a magazine publisher was waiting in his post office box.
Anxiously, he opened the box with his key. It was empty. He shrugged. An empty box had its upside, too -- there were no cut-off notices in it. With his last 20 bucks in his pocket, the freelancer hummed a favorite Fats Domino tune, “Ain’t That a Shame,” as he headed home.
By the end of the workday the freelancer's mission was to finish an 800-word OpEd piece, with an accompanying illustration, and drop it all off on an editor’s desk. With the drum beat for war in the air he wanted to focus on the inevitable unintended consequences of any war. Yet, with the clock ticking on his deadline he was still at a loss for an angle.
In 1991 the country was mired in an economic recession. The national debt was skyrocketing. War with Iraq was looming, it seemed all but inevitable. Pondering what demons might be spawned by an all-out war in Iraq, to be discovered down the road, he detoured a couple of blocks to pick up a Washington Post and a fresh cup of coffee.
Approaching the 7-Eleven store the freelancer noticed a lone panhandler standing off to the left of the front doors. The tall man was thin and frail. He wore a lightweight denim jacket with a hooded sweatshirt underneath. Snot was frozen in his mustache. His heavy-lidded eyes were an unhealthy shade of red.
During a time when a much younger version of the freelancer had run a night-life business, in which he dealt with the public, he had determined his policy should be to never in any way encourage panhandlers to hang around. The rigid policy -- not even a nickel -- had lingered well after the comfortable job was gone.
On this cold day it wasn’t easy for the freelancer to avert his eye from the poor soul’s trembling outstretched hand. Not hearing the desperate man’s hoarse plea for food money was impossible. When there are always so many lives to be saved in our midst, the freelancer wondered -- why do we have to go to the Middle East to save lives?
Inside the busy store the freelancer poured a large coffee. Fretting profusely, he snapped the cup’s lid in place. It was one of those times when the little freelancer with horns was standing on one of his shoulders, while his opposite -- the one with the halo -- was on the other, both offering counsel.
The freelancer's policy caved in seconds later. Still, he decided to give the panhandler food, rather than hand over cash to perhaps finance a bottle of sweet wine. What the hell? it might change my luck, he thought as he smiled.
Trying to max out the bang-for-the-buck aspect of his gesture, the freelancer settled on a king-sized hot dog, with plenty of free stuff on it -- mustard, chopped onions, relish, jalapeno peppers, chili and some gooey cheese-like product. Not wanting to push it too far, he passed on the catsup and mayonnaise.
Outside the store, the freelancer found the starving panhandler had vanished. So, the crestfallen philanthropist took the meal-on-a-bun with him as he walked, softly singing a Buffalo Springfield song, “For What It’s Worth.” With his strides matching the beat, he kept to the sunny street to avoid the slick sidewalk in the shade.
"There’s somethin’ happening here,
What it is ain’t exactly clear.
There’s a man with a gun over there,
Tellin’ me I gotta beware.
I think it’s time we stop, children, what's that sound,
Everybody look, what's going down."
About an hour later the heartburn started. Eventually, it got brutal. The freelancer pressed on. He wrote about the way propaganda always works to sell war -- every war -- as glorious and essential to the everyday people, who risk their lives. That while the wealthy, who rarely take a genuine risk on anything, urge the patriots on and count their profits.
Thinking of the war that thinned his generation out, in Vietnam, he wrote: “After the war the veterans are largely ignored, even scorned.”
The freelancer lamented the popular culture having gone wrong, so there was no longer a place for anti-war protest songs. He wrote, “Where are today’s non-conformists? Today's questioners of authority? Nowhere! Conformity? It’s no longer an issue.”
The freelancer turned in his work at 4:50 p.m. An hour later his sour and noisy stomach had finally calmed down during his second happy hour beer. When he recounted the tale of the stuffed frankfurter, and the Buffalo Springfield song, and the belly ache, he made it seem mildly funny to those gathered around the elbow of the marble bar.
In his element, the freelancer’s audience of familiar faces laughed and groaned, on cue, when he finished his tale off with, “Oh well, a panhandler, a dash of paranoia, a dose of heartburn, and another deadline met. What can I say? -- I suppose it was all, ahem, for what it’s worth.”
On a cold January morning, 15 years ago, bright sunlight lit up the thin coating of freezing rain that had painted the city the evening before. In the crisp air a slender middle-aged man, a freelance artist/writer, walked at a careful but purposeful pace on the tricky sidewalk. The ice-clad trees along the street were dazzling, as seen through his trusty Ray-Bans. The wooly winter jacket his girlfriend/roommate had given him for Christmas felt good.
Since the freelancer couldn’t concentrate on his reading of the morning’s Richmond Times-Dispatch, he left half a mug of black coffee and a dozing cat on his desk to walk to the post office. He hoped the overdue check from a magazine publisher was waiting in his post office box.
Anxiously, he opened the box with his key. It was empty. He shrugged. An empty box had its upside, too -- there were no cut-off notices in it. With his last 20 bucks in his pocket, the freelancer hummed a favorite Fats Domino tune, “Ain’t That a Shame,” as he headed home.
By the end of the workday the freelancer's mission was to finish an 800-word OpEd piece, with an accompanying illustration, and drop it all off on an editor’s desk. With the drum beat for war in the air he wanted to focus on the inevitable unintended consequences of any war. Yet, with the clock ticking on his deadline he was still at a loss for an angle.
In 1991 the country was mired in an economic recession. The national debt was skyrocketing. War with Iraq was looming, it seemed all but inevitable. Pondering what demons might be spawned by an all-out war in Iraq, to be discovered down the road, he detoured a couple of blocks to pick up a Washington Post and a fresh cup of coffee.
Approaching the 7-Eleven store the freelancer noticed a lone panhandler standing off to the left of the front doors. The tall man was thin and frail. He wore a lightweight denim jacket with a hooded sweatshirt underneath. Snot was frozen in his mustache. His heavy-lidded eyes were an unhealthy shade of red.
During a time when a much younger version of the freelancer had run a night-life business, in which he dealt with the public, he had determined his policy should be to never in any way encourage panhandlers to hang around. The rigid policy -- not even a nickel -- had lingered well after the comfortable job was gone.
On this cold day it wasn’t easy for the freelancer to avert his eye from the poor soul’s trembling outstretched hand. Not hearing the desperate man’s hoarse plea for food money was impossible. When there are always so many lives to be saved in our midst, the freelancer wondered -- why do we have to go to the Middle East to save lives?
Inside the busy store the freelancer poured a large coffee. Fretting profusely, he snapped the cup’s lid in place. It was one of those times when the little freelancer with horns was standing on one of his shoulders, while his opposite -- the one with the halo -- was on the other, both offering counsel.
The freelancer's policy caved in seconds later. Still, he decided to give the panhandler food, rather than hand over cash to perhaps finance a bottle of sweet wine. What the hell? it might change my luck, he thought as he smiled.
Trying to max out the bang-for-the-buck aspect of his gesture, the freelancer settled on a king-sized hot dog, with plenty of free stuff on it -- mustard, chopped onions, relish, jalapeno peppers, chili and some gooey cheese-like product. Not wanting to push it too far, he passed on the catsup and mayonnaise.
Outside the store, the freelancer found the starving panhandler had vanished. So, the crestfallen philanthropist took the meal-on-a-bun with him as he walked, softly singing a Buffalo Springfield song, “For What It’s Worth.” With his strides matching the beat, he kept to the sunny street to avoid the slick sidewalk in the shade.
"There’s somethin’ happening here,
What it is ain’t exactly clear.
There’s a man with a gun over there,
Tellin’ me I gotta beware.
I think it’s time we stop, children, what's that sound,
Everybody look, what's going down."
A line from that song’s last verse -- “paranoia strikes deep” -- suddenly snapped an idea for the OpEd into place, which launched an instant mini-mania. A block closer to home an image for the illustration occurred to him. He picked up his pace and began whistling a jazzy version of “For What It’s Worth.”
Back in his office/studio space, rather than waste money, the freelancer tore into the feast he had prepared for a beggar. The food scared, or perhaps offended the cat, who fled. Between sloppy bites the artist wiped his hands off and sketched furiously to rough out a cartoon.
Back in his office/studio space, rather than waste money, the freelancer tore into the feast he had prepared for a beggar. The food scared, or perhaps offended the cat, who fled. Between sloppy bites the artist wiped his hands off and sketched furiously to rough out a cartoon.
About an hour later the heartburn started. Eventually, it got brutal. The freelancer pressed on. He wrote about the way propaganda always works to sell war -- every war -- as glorious and essential to the everyday people, who risk their lives. That while the wealthy, who rarely take a genuine risk on anything, urge the patriots on and count their profits.
Thinking of the war that thinned his generation out, in Vietnam, he wrote: “After the war the veterans are largely ignored, even scorned.”
The freelancer lamented the popular culture having gone wrong, so there was no longer a place for anti-war protest songs. He wrote, “Where are today’s non-conformists? Today's questioners of authority? Nowhere! Conformity? It’s no longer an issue.”
The freelancer turned in his work at 4:50 p.m. An hour later his sour and noisy stomach had finally calmed down during his second happy hour beer. When he recounted the tale of the stuffed frankfurter, and the Buffalo Springfield song, and the belly ache, he made it seem mildly funny to those gathered around the elbow of the marble bar.
In his element, the freelancer’s audience of familiar faces laughed and groaned, on cue, when he finished his tale off with, “Oh well, a panhandler, a dash of paranoia, a dose of heartburn, and another deadline met. What can I say? -- I suppose it was all, ahem, for what it’s worth.”
-- 30 --
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Schewel on the Marshall-Newman amendment
Mark Warner’s Secretary of Commerce and Trade -- Michael Schewel -- shows his grasp of an issue, as well as his command of language, in a short-but-sweet piece published in Sunday’s Washington Post.
In “The Economics of Discrimination,” Schewel weighs in on the Marshall-Newman amendment, also known as the “marriage amendment.” His words aren’t part of a political agenda to accumulate power. They are about reality.
“...Capital One, for example, is one of Virginia’s biggest and best employers. It provides domestic-partner benefits for unmarried employees’ partners, both for same-sex and heterosexual couples. The Marshall-Newman amendment could prohibit Capital One from providing these benefits.”
“...Virginia tried the economics of discrimination once before. It didn't work in the 1950s and '60s, and it left our state’s economy at the bottom of the national heap.”
In “The Economics of Discrimination,” Schewel weighs in on the Marshall-Newman amendment, also known as the “marriage amendment.” His words aren’t part of a political agenda to accumulate power. They are about reality.
“...Capital One, for example, is one of Virginia’s biggest and best employers. It provides domestic-partner benefits for unmarried employees’ partners, both for same-sex and heterosexual couples. The Marshall-Newman amendment could prohibit Capital One from providing these benefits.”
“...Virginia tried the economics of discrimination once before. It didn't work in the 1950s and '60s, and it left our state’s economy at the bottom of the national heap.”
Hoist one to Fred Clark; updated
Fred Clark’s hilarious obituary was all they talked about at Happy Hour. Well, I must admit I’ve never seen anything quite like it before, in a legit context. On Tuesday, July11, the Richmond Times-Dispatch had an article about the widespread reaction to it. Of course, we hoisted one to Fred.
Thanks to good old Sherwood Luck, SLANT’s erstwhile movie critic, for sending me the head’s-up. I had no idea he knew anything about emailing.
If the reader wants a free grin, I guarantee the late Fred Clark’s obit will supply it. This guy, who must have a wonderful family, is on his way to becoming a posthumous folk hero. Although I'm not a religious guy, somehow, I know he appreciates it.
Update: The response to Clark's obituary has been snowballing all week. Here's a story, Here’s to you, Fred Clark, that appeared in the Richmond Times-Dispatch on July 13.
“If Fred Clark took a swig in Heaven with everyone who raised a glass to him Tuesday night, he’d be loopy. Since his uproarious, self-penned obituary ran in The Times-Dispatch on Sunday and a news article appeared Tuesday, nearly 800 readers from all over the world have posted condolences to his family.
“And after reading about his penchant for bourbon and cigars, many promised to have a drink in his honor or light up that expensive cigar they'd been saving. Clark, 61, had a lot of friends when he was alive, but he’s got thousands more now.”
Once there, you'll find links to more.
Thanks to good old Sherwood Luck, SLANT’s erstwhile movie critic, for sending me the head’s-up. I had no idea he knew anything about emailing.
If the reader wants a free grin, I guarantee the late Fred Clark’s obit will supply it. This guy, who must have a wonderful family, is on his way to becoming a posthumous folk hero. Although I'm not a religious guy, somehow, I know he appreciates it.
Update: The response to Clark's obituary has been snowballing all week. Here's a story, Here’s to you, Fred Clark, that appeared in the Richmond Times-Dispatch on July 13.
“If Fred Clark took a swig in Heaven with everyone who raised a glass to him Tuesday night, he’d be loopy. Since his uproarious, self-penned obituary ran in The Times-Dispatch on Sunday and a news article appeared Tuesday, nearly 800 readers from all over the world have posted condolences to his family.
“And after reading about his penchant for bourbon and cigars, many promised to have a drink in his honor or light up that expensive cigar they'd been saving. Clark, 61, had a lot of friends when he was alive, but he’s got thousands more now.”
Once there, you'll find links to more.
But what if they all vote?
Thinking about elections, how close some of them have been in recent years. Thinking about Florida in 2000. Thinking about Ohio in 2004. In 2005 the statewide race for Attorney General in Virginia was decided by only 323 votes.Thinking about those spooky Diebold voting machines and how crazy it is to rely on such contraptions. A trusted friend of mine is a programmer in an experimental department of a huge Internet player. He understands what’s inside electronic voting machines; he says we should never trust a system that leaves no paper trail. That’s good enough for me.
All that brought to mind the ‘toon above that I drew six years ago. Now I’m thinking about 2006 and what’s at stake. Can we trust the robot vote-counters?
Monday, July 10, 2006
Blog conference set in August
On June 16th and 17th there was a bloggers confab in Charlottesville. Next month there will be another bloggers confab, this time in Martinsville. So, it seems as blogging becomes more popular, there will likely be more away-from-the-keyboard activities out there, having to do with blogging.
One reason for these get-togethers is surely the curiosity bloggers must develop in the process of exchanging views over the Internet with a person they don’t know. Like, will the blogger who calls himself “NotLiberace,” turn out to be a 15-year-old girl, or a 55-year-old man, or maybe even ... Liberace?
The Blogs United in Martinsville for free Speech in Martinsville, Aug. 25th and 26th, is being promoted by its blogging organizers, and by its supporters, using what else? Their blogs. As far as I could see, the Sorensen Blog Summit in Charlottesville, which I attended last month, was promoted much the same way.
Popular blogs have what admen call “reach,” just as television shows and newspapers do. How much reach such a vehicle has determines how much it costs to buy an ad. But political blogs, now boosted by aggregators like Virginia Political Blogs and LeftyBlogs, have the power to reach hundreds of other bloggers/readers in an hour. Then, if the message is interesting/righteous, those hundreds can spread the word to thousands in another hour. And, so it goes...
This phenomenon is putting power into hands that -- before this startling breakthrough -- could not have gotten it in conventional ways over five, or ten years, of working one’s way into such a position of influence. Of course, along with this new tool comes a cacophony of noise that will drown out most would-be promoters, before they even get started. So, there are certainly no guarantees, but when a blog -- such as Daily Kos -- is getting 600,000 hits a day, that’s a lot of reach, noise or no noise.
Still, as a guy who’s spent many a year promoting movies, Rock ‘n’ Roll shows, various stunts, my alternative magazine (SLANT), my local broadcast ventures -- as well as my sundry opinions -- this breakthrough is mind-boggling.
As an observer of all things political, I have to shake my head and say -- uh, oh, this won’t last long. The powers that be will surely try to stop it, and probably soon. People who have power generally don’t like to see it watered down. So, bloggers, enjoy this era while you can. Politicians are surely going to try to take control of the political blogosphere.
Meanwhile the mission statement of the Blogs United in Martinsville for free Speech is as follows:
“The mission of Blogs United in Martinsville for free Speech is to provide a forum to assess the state of the Virginia blog community, discuss its future, and explore ideas that utilize free speech to foster innovation, connectivity, and influence. To this end, Blogs United in Martinsville for free Speech is dedicated to enhancing personal relationships and respect among bloggers, journalists, and public figures, regardless of partisan affiliation, through both the formal agenda and informal socializing opportunities offered in a casual, fun atmosphere.”
One reason for these get-togethers is surely the curiosity bloggers must develop in the process of exchanging views over the Internet with a person they don’t know. Like, will the blogger who calls himself “NotLiberace,” turn out to be a 15-year-old girl, or a 55-year-old man, or maybe even ... Liberace?
The Blogs United in Martinsville for free Speech in Martinsville, Aug. 25th and 26th, is being promoted by its blogging organizers, and by its supporters, using what else? Their blogs. As far as I could see, the Sorensen Blog Summit in Charlottesville, which I attended last month, was promoted much the same way.
Popular blogs have what admen call “reach,” just as television shows and newspapers do. How much reach such a vehicle has determines how much it costs to buy an ad. But political blogs, now boosted by aggregators like Virginia Political Blogs and LeftyBlogs, have the power to reach hundreds of other bloggers/readers in an hour. Then, if the message is interesting/righteous, those hundreds can spread the word to thousands in another hour. And, so it goes...
This phenomenon is putting power into hands that -- before this startling breakthrough -- could not have gotten it in conventional ways over five, or ten years, of working one’s way into such a position of influence. Of course, along with this new tool comes a cacophony of noise that will drown out most would-be promoters, before they even get started. So, there are certainly no guarantees, but when a blog -- such as Daily Kos -- is getting 600,000 hits a day, that’s a lot of reach, noise or no noise.
Still, as a guy who’s spent many a year promoting movies, Rock ‘n’ Roll shows, various stunts, my alternative magazine (SLANT), my local broadcast ventures -- as well as my sundry opinions -- this breakthrough is mind-boggling.
As an observer of all things political, I have to shake my head and say -- uh, oh, this won’t last long. The powers that be will surely try to stop it, and probably soon. People who have power generally don’t like to see it watered down. So, bloggers, enjoy this era while you can. Politicians are surely going to try to take control of the political blogosphere.
Meanwhile the mission statement of the Blogs United in Martinsville for free Speech is as follows:
“The mission of Blogs United in Martinsville for free Speech is to provide a forum to assess the state of the Virginia blog community, discuss its future, and explore ideas that utilize free speech to foster innovation, connectivity, and influence. To this end, Blogs United in Martinsville for free Speech is dedicated to enhancing personal relationships and respect among bloggers, journalists, and public figures, regardless of partisan affiliation, through both the formal agenda and informal socializing opportunities offered in a casual, fun atmosphere.”
There’s something happening here...
A post today, “Shrouded Truth,” by Snoopy at River City Rapids, picks at the many loose threads of a story that is bothering me, too. It concerns the strange treatment the incident on the Southside shore of the James River on the evening of July 4th has received by the local press. It's the one in which a group of people in the river were attacked by aluminum baseball bat-wielding thugs.
“... The police say it is not a hate crime or a gang related incident, although I don't see how they can close that book so quickly with no suspects or arrests. What also baffles me is the attackers began by throwing large stones from the bridge - which is generally free of such stones - on to the people below. That makes me believe the attackers got the stones from the rocky hillside nearby and went back on to the bridge to do precisely what they did, i.e. it was premeditated. And they just happened to be carrying baseball bats, too?”
Michael Paul Williams, of The Richmond Times-Dispatch, devotes his Monday column to the fallout from the peculiar tale, “Let‘s get a few things straight.”
Well, I agree with Snoopy, something is fishy about the way this whole thing is being handled. I’ve talked with several friends about it in the last few days, and all of them felt the same way, to some extent -- somebody is moving behind the scene to keep this story rather quiet.
Is this story being underreported for a sound reason? Maybe the motive is well-intentioned. Maybe not. Maybe, since there are no dead bears in the story, it's not seen as important. Nonetheless, I want to know what happened that night. And, I want to know why the media are pretending this story is a minor incident. There’s something happening here...
“... The police say it is not a hate crime or a gang related incident, although I don't see how they can close that book so quickly with no suspects or arrests. What also baffles me is the attackers began by throwing large stones from the bridge - which is generally free of such stones - on to the people below. That makes me believe the attackers got the stones from the rocky hillside nearby and went back on to the bridge to do precisely what they did, i.e. it was premeditated. And they just happened to be carrying baseball bats, too?”
Michael Paul Williams, of The Richmond Times-Dispatch, devotes his Monday column to the fallout from the peculiar tale, “Let‘s get a few things straight.”
Well, I agree with Snoopy, something is fishy about the way this whole thing is being handled. I’ve talked with several friends about it in the last few days, and all of them felt the same way, to some extent -- somebody is moving behind the scene to keep this story rather quiet.
Is this story being underreported for a sound reason? Maybe the motive is well-intentioned. Maybe not. Maybe, since there are no dead bears in the story, it's not seen as important. Nonetheless, I want to know what happened that night. And, I want to know why the media are pretending this story is a minor incident. There’s something happening here...
Bloggers discuss Weekend Without Echoes project
Beginning with this post -- Weekend Without Echoes -- at SLANTblog, an experiment got underway last week. It called upon bloggers to voluntarily attempt to post only original material on their blogs during a three-day span, July 21-23.
Over the weekend there was a lively discussion of the project. Much of it endorsed the spirit of it. Some of it asked questions about the rules, or the purpose of it. Some of it flat out slammed the concept. Here are some links to a sampling of various posts that comment both positively and negatively on Weekend Without Echoes: Weekend without echos; Somewhere in Virginia Shaun Kenney Should be Smiling; J's Notes; The Challenge: Hell No, I Don't Accept!; ShaunKenney.com; "Weekend Without Echoes" - What Do You Think?; Craig's Musings; Live Blogging Session on Saturday the 22nd
There were other posts and comments that I saw, and maybe others I missed, but these links should provide a person wanting to see the experiment batted around with enough opinions to get a sense of the pros and cons. If the reader knows of a good post on the topic that should be in the list above, please let me know. I'm trying to keep up with the feedback.
Below is the updated list of the Virginia bloggers who have contacted Vivian Paige (she is maintaining a list of the willing in her blog's sidebar), or me, by email, or by comments in posts on our blogs that they will participate in the three-day experiment. Yes, that's all you have to do to be added to this list:
Vivian J. Paige; Bryan J. Scafford - Ambivalent Mumblings; Jerry Griffin - VB Dems; Waldo Jaquith; Conaway Haskins - South of the James; J.C. Wilmore - The Richmond Democrat; Jason Kenney - J's notes; Marijean Jaggers - StLWorkingMom; Alton Foley - ImNotEmeril; Chris Green - Spank That Donkey; Shaun Kenney; Jennifer L. McKeever - Jennifer's Charlottesville; Rick Sincere - Rick Sincere News and Thoughts; Claire Guthrie Gastanaga - ChangeServant; Charles - TwoConservatives; James Atticus Bowen - Deo Vindice; Melissa and Kristen - Monstrosity; Del. Kris Amundson and Del. Bob Brink - 7 West; Semi Truths; Thomas Krehbiel - The Krehbiel Strikes Back; Craig Vitter - Craig’s Musings; Don Harrison -- Save Richmond; Sisyphus; Ben Tribett - Not Larry Sabato; Adam Sharp - The Daily Whackjob; Mosquito Blog; David - Equality Loudoun;
Over the weekend there was a lively discussion of the project. Much of it endorsed the spirit of it. Some of it asked questions about the rules, or the purpose of it. Some of it flat out slammed the concept. Here are some links to a sampling of various posts that comment both positively and negatively on Weekend Without Echoes: Weekend without echos; Somewhere in Virginia Shaun Kenney Should be Smiling; J's Notes; The Challenge: Hell No, I Don't Accept!; ShaunKenney.com; "Weekend Without Echoes" - What Do You Think?; Craig's Musings; Live Blogging Session on Saturday the 22nd
There were other posts and comments that I saw, and maybe others I missed, but these links should provide a person wanting to see the experiment batted around with enough opinions to get a sense of the pros and cons. If the reader knows of a good post on the topic that should be in the list above, please let me know. I'm trying to keep up with the feedback.
Below is the updated list of the Virginia bloggers who have contacted Vivian Paige (she is maintaining a list of the willing in her blog's sidebar), or me, by email, or by comments in posts on our blogs that they will participate in the three-day experiment. Yes, that's all you have to do to be added to this list:
Vivian J. Paige; Bryan J. Scafford - Ambivalent Mumblings; Jerry Griffin - VB Dems; Waldo Jaquith; Conaway Haskins - South of the James; J.C. Wilmore - The Richmond Democrat; Jason Kenney - J's notes; Marijean Jaggers - StLWorkingMom; Alton Foley - ImNotEmeril; Chris Green - Spank That Donkey; Shaun Kenney; Jennifer L. McKeever - Jennifer's Charlottesville; Rick Sincere - Rick Sincere News and Thoughts; Claire Guthrie Gastanaga - ChangeServant; Charles - TwoConservatives; James Atticus Bowen - Deo Vindice; Melissa and Kristen - Monstrosity; Del. Kris Amundson and Del. Bob Brink - 7 West; Semi Truths; Thomas Krehbiel - The Krehbiel Strikes Back; Craig Vitter - Craig’s Musings; Don Harrison -- Save Richmond; Sisyphus; Ben Tribett - Not Larry Sabato; Adam Sharp - The Daily Whackjob; Mosquito Blog; David - Equality Loudoun;
Updated: 1:15 p.m., July 13
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Addicted to Choice
by F. T. Rea
Obsessions, compulsions and addictions have always been in play. Now we see a somewhat new twist in driven behavior: In a time of plenty, many Americans seem to have become addicted to the act of choosing between this and that. This group has unwittingly developed what amounts to a jones for choosing from a smorgasbord of options.
Yet, as with any buzz, when it subsides the anxious feelings it allayed return with a vengeance. Thus, choice addicts find themselves living in a continuous loop of making choices in order to cope with their habit. This is beyond consuming, it's just about choosing.
Of course Madison Avenue, great facilitator in this shop-’til-you-drop scenario, has long depicted “choice” as utter bliss: Yowser! Yowser! Yowser! These limited-edition widgets come in five, I say five, designer colors.
Choice has also been a hot political buzzword for some time. To a person wanting to express a belief that a woman is absolutely entitled to opt for an abortion, choice is a useful word for a slogan. It implies that ending the pregnancy is a matter of a person having dominion over her own body, rather than submitting to an authority claiming to represent society’s collective will. Of course, those calling for “choice” in this case see the individual’s right to choose an abortion as trumping whatever damage, if any, might be done to society by the abortion.
The notion that it should be fine for any citizen to pull his tax money out of the funding of public education, in order to finance sending his own child to private school, has been called “choice” by its advocates. While this argument appears to be resting on a convenient logic, it ignores the long-held American tenet that everyone in the community has a stake in public education, regardless of how many children they have.
In both cases, the sloganeers show a telling awareness of the lure the word “choice” has today. Perhaps this is due to some new collective sense of powerlessness in the air. Or maybe the scam aspect of selling folks their own freedom is as old as dirt.
In “One-Dimensional Man,” German-born philosopher Herbert Marcuse (1898-1979) warned us in the 1960s about illusions of freedom: “Free choice among a wide variety of goods and services does not signify freedom if these goods and services sustain social controls over a life of toil and fear.” Marcuse’s keen eye saw the counterfeit aspect of the processed brand of freedom wielders of easy credit felt, even then, as they exercised their prerogative to select one set of time-payment obligations over another.
Marcuse’s hard-nosed take on what he saw as controls over modern society is out of style today. But his view of how language is predictably used by a few of us to manipulate the rest of us is still as valuable as ever.
French diplomat Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord’s (1754-1838) words on the topic of language remain crisp today. Talleyrand offered, “Speech was given to man to disguise his thoughts.” British philosopher/mathematician Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) went further: “Speech was given to man to prevent thought.”
OK, so tricky lingo has long been used to shape perception. However, as a true believer in the unfettered streaming marketplace of ideas, I expect tortured language and agenda-driven slogans to come and go. My point is that the act of choosing should not be so highly valued that it comes at the expense of appreciating what happens after the choice is made.
Some folks put a lot of store in choosing the perfect mate. They shop, and they shop, to be sure. But from what I’ve seen, what couples actually do, after their choice/commitment, has a lot more to do with the success of the relationship than anything else. Of course, some just keep shopping, vows or not. They can’t stop shopping and choosing.
Can constantly switching TV channels for hours be a more satisfying experience than watching one interesting program? Well, the answer probably depends on whether you value what comes after the choice. After all, in order to be able to surf 200 channels, as opposed to only 50 or 100, customers gladly pay extra, although many of them never watch any program in its entirety.
Much of television’s most popular programming feeds its audience a steady flow of information about people who happily act as if they have genuine clout -- rich celebrities who cavort about with enough bread to buy anything. Then, quite conveniently, every few minutes, commercials interrupt the program to offer the viewer a chance to unjitter his jones by calling a phone number, or getting online.
Choices! Schmoices! Anytime your options are limited to what’s on a menu put together by someone else, by choosing from that prepared list you are surrendering some control to the list-maker.
And, the mountain of disposable schmidgets grows, evermore, as choice addicts cast off yesterday’s tarnished urge, to grab after today's sparkling urge, just to get through the night.
"Whatever gets you through the night 'salright, 'salright
It's your money or life 'salright, 'salright”
-- John Lennon
It's your money or life 'salright, 'salright”
-- John Lennon
Obsessions, compulsions and addictions have always been in play. Now we see a somewhat new twist in driven behavior: In a time of plenty, many Americans seem to have become addicted to the act of choosing between this and that. This group has unwittingly developed what amounts to a jones for choosing from a smorgasbord of options.
Yet, as with any buzz, when it subsides the anxious feelings it allayed return with a vengeance. Thus, choice addicts find themselves living in a continuous loop of making choices in order to cope with their habit. This is beyond consuming, it's just about choosing.
Of course Madison Avenue, great facilitator in this shop-’til-you-drop scenario, has long depicted “choice” as utter bliss: Yowser! Yowser! Yowser! These limited-edition widgets come in five, I say five, designer colors.
Choice has also been a hot political buzzword for some time. To a person wanting to express a belief that a woman is absolutely entitled to opt for an abortion, choice is a useful word for a slogan. It implies that ending the pregnancy is a matter of a person having dominion over her own body, rather than submitting to an authority claiming to represent society’s collective will. Of course, those calling for “choice” in this case see the individual’s right to choose an abortion as trumping whatever damage, if any, might be done to society by the abortion.
The notion that it should be fine for any citizen to pull his tax money out of the funding of public education, in order to finance sending his own child to private school, has been called “choice” by its advocates. While this argument appears to be resting on a convenient logic, it ignores the long-held American tenet that everyone in the community has a stake in public education, regardless of how many children they have.
In both cases, the sloganeers show a telling awareness of the lure the word “choice” has today. Perhaps this is due to some new collective sense of powerlessness in the air. Or maybe the scam aspect of selling folks their own freedom is as old as dirt.
In “One-Dimensional Man,” German-born philosopher Herbert Marcuse (1898-1979) warned us in the 1960s about illusions of freedom: “Free choice among a wide variety of goods and services does not signify freedom if these goods and services sustain social controls over a life of toil and fear.” Marcuse’s keen eye saw the counterfeit aspect of the processed brand of freedom wielders of easy credit felt, even then, as they exercised their prerogative to select one set of time-payment obligations over another.
Marcuse’s hard-nosed take on what he saw as controls over modern society is out of style today. But his view of how language is predictably used by a few of us to manipulate the rest of us is still as valuable as ever.
French diplomat Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord’s (1754-1838) words on the topic of language remain crisp today. Talleyrand offered, “Speech was given to man to disguise his thoughts.” British philosopher/mathematician Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) went further: “Speech was given to man to prevent thought.”
OK, so tricky lingo has long been used to shape perception. However, as a true believer in the unfettered streaming marketplace of ideas, I expect tortured language and agenda-driven slogans to come and go. My point is that the act of choosing should not be so highly valued that it comes at the expense of appreciating what happens after the choice is made.
Some folks put a lot of store in choosing the perfect mate. They shop, and they shop, to be sure. But from what I’ve seen, what couples actually do, after their choice/commitment, has a lot more to do with the success of the relationship than anything else. Of course, some just keep shopping, vows or not. They can’t stop shopping and choosing.
Can constantly switching TV channels for hours be a more satisfying experience than watching one interesting program? Well, the answer probably depends on whether you value what comes after the choice. After all, in order to be able to surf 200 channels, as opposed to only 50 or 100, customers gladly pay extra, although many of them never watch any program in its entirety.
Much of television’s most popular programming feeds its audience a steady flow of information about people who happily act as if they have genuine clout -- rich celebrities who cavort about with enough bread to buy anything. Then, quite conveniently, every few minutes, commercials interrupt the program to offer the viewer a chance to unjitter his jones by calling a phone number, or getting online.
Choices! Schmoices! Anytime your options are limited to what’s on a menu put together by someone else, by choosing from that prepared list you are surrendering some control to the list-maker.
And, the mountain of disposable schmidgets grows, evermore, as choice addicts cast off yesterday’s tarnished urge, to grab after today's sparkling urge, just to get through the night.
-- 30 --
John Lennon illustration by Mike Lormand (1984)
John Lennon illustration by Mike Lormand (1984)
SLANTblog poll tells all?
The Weekend Without Echoes project (July 21-23) has caused a bit of a stir, it seems. Yes, I’m a little surprised at how much. The discussion that has flowed from the announcement of a group effort by bloggers volunteering to post original material for a three-day period has been lively. So, I’m glad about that. While not all the reaction has been positive, plenty of it has.
To see a list of those bloggers who have signed on, click on this link to Vivian Paige’s blog. (Look at the sidebar, to the right.) So, now I especially want to thank the bloggers who, like Vivian, have seen fit to expose their readers to the concept of the challenge by posting news of it on their web sites.
As an aside, I want to salute the Raising Kaine site for its post yesterday morning, publicizing the experiment. Since, I’ve questioned some of what I've seen as their sometimes over-the-top methods there, propaganda-wise, it’s gratifying to see the project mentioned.
There’s the graphic device for Weekend Without Echoes that Vivian Paige put together, blinking away. And, the RK top dog, netroots regional poobah, Lowell Feld, wrote a piece about the project. He didn’t take sides ... hmm ... just a few questions. Which, as always, set the comments section buzzing. Poof -- almost spontaneously, it seemed the RK regulars weren't so enthusiastic about the project.
Oh well, can’t win ‘em all.
And, there’s a poll, to generate some telling numbers on the registered regulars' view of the three-day-old work-in-progress that this concept still is. But it seems a little bit manipulative ... hmm.
Now I get it. It's a little joke. Even better. I gather the spunky blogging squad at RK wants to play. They’ve up and gone creative, in honor of Weekend Without Echoes. That’s almost cool.
OK, while the passionate RK squad chugalugs its daily dose of grape Kool-Aid, mixed Jonestown style, let’s play. Accordingly, SLANTblog has created a poll, too:
And, not unlike the poll at Raising Kaine, my poll is only open to people I personally approve of. Naturally that would be members of the SLANTblog blogging team.
For security reasons, except for me, they must all remain under cover. For their safety I can’t tell you how many there are, or anything else about them. Some of them may be paid consultants for various politicians ... not to worry. Don’t even bother clicking on the vote button, unless you’re a registered agent it won’t work.
Later on, when it suits me, I’ll post the results here at SLANTblog. Then we can discuss the bogus results. Actually, I already know what they will be. But, let's wait, anyway.
Am I making all this up?
Well, of course I am. Still, my poll will have as much credibility as the one they’ve got up at RK. And, I've read enough of Feld's sometimes very thoughtful writing to know he's smart enough to realize that RK, as it is now positioned, has been caught on the wrong side of this Weekend Without Echoes experiment.
Now they don't really know what to do about it. Ignore it? Assimilate it? Discredit it? But how can you be against writers trying to be original for a spell of three days?
More Kool-Aid?
To see a list of those bloggers who have signed on, click on this link to Vivian Paige’s blog. (Look at the sidebar, to the right.) So, now I especially want to thank the bloggers who, like Vivian, have seen fit to expose their readers to the concept of the challenge by posting news of it on their web sites.
As an aside, I want to salute the Raising Kaine site for its post yesterday morning, publicizing the experiment. Since, I’ve questioned some of what I've seen as their sometimes over-the-top methods there, propaganda-wise, it’s gratifying to see the project mentioned.
There’s the graphic device for Weekend Without Echoes that Vivian Paige put together, blinking away. And, the RK top dog, netroots regional poobah, Lowell Feld, wrote a piece about the project. He didn’t take sides ... hmm ... just a few questions. Which, as always, set the comments section buzzing. Poof -- almost spontaneously, it seemed the RK regulars weren't so enthusiastic about the project.
Oh well, can’t win ‘em all.
And, there’s a poll, to generate some telling numbers on the registered regulars' view of the three-day-old work-in-progress that this concept still is. But it seems a little bit manipulative ... hmm.
Now I get it. It's a little joke. Even better. I gather the spunky blogging squad at RK wants to play. They’ve up and gone creative, in honor of Weekend Without Echoes. That’s almost cool.
OK, while the passionate RK squad chugalugs its daily dose of grape Kool-Aid, mixed Jonestown style, let’s play. Accordingly, SLANTblog has created a poll, too:
And, not unlike the poll at Raising Kaine, my poll is only open to people I personally approve of. Naturally that would be members of the SLANTblog blogging team.
For security reasons, except for me, they must all remain under cover. For their safety I can’t tell you how many there are, or anything else about them. Some of them may be paid consultants for various politicians ... not to worry. Don’t even bother clicking on the vote button, unless you’re a registered agent it won’t work.
Later on, when it suits me, I’ll post the results here at SLANTblog. Then we can discuss the bogus results. Actually, I already know what they will be. But, let's wait, anyway.
Am I making all this up?
Well, of course I am. Still, my poll will have as much credibility as the one they’ve got up at RK. And, I've read enough of Feld's sometimes very thoughtful writing to know he's smart enough to realize that RK, as it is now positioned, has been caught on the wrong side of this Weekend Without Echoes experiment.
Now they don't really know what to do about it. Ignore it? Assimilate it? Discredit it? But how can you be against writers trying to be original for a spell of three days?
More Kool-Aid?
Friday, July 07, 2006
Weekend Without Echoes list is growing
By now I’ve read a few comments which reacted negatively to the Weekend Without Echoes concept. Some even attacked Mike Shear and Gordon Morse for their role in stirring the pot as speakers at the Sorensen Blog Summit.
First, of course I knew some people wouldn't like anything that is different. That's fine. But, let’s get one thing straight -- when I mentioned Shear and Morse, I didn’t mean to imply they were putting the blogging community down. Those two hardly wagged fingers and told their audience to be more like them, as it seems some have inferred. No. They were answering specific questions and I took the essence of what they said out of its context, in order to give the reader a little background.
So, the jabs at Shear and Morse are unfounded.
Anyway, the Weekend Without Echoes was my idea. My regular readers know I’ve been griping about the echo chamber thing for months. Finally, I decided to do something other than complain. This project is designed to bring out the best in those writers who want to take part in it. I predict we’ll see some fresh, worthwhile pieces to read that weekend (July 21-23). Now the experiment has taken on a life of its own and I’m delighted with that, too.
Give Shear and Morse a break. They were good enough to be guinea pigs at the Blog Summit. I salute them and all the other speakers for showing up at all. Meanwhile, here’s the updated (12:15 p.m., July 8) list of willing bloggers who are in on the project:
Vivian J. Paige; Bryan - Ambivalent Mumblings; Jerry Griffin - VB Dems; Waldo Jaquith; Conaway Haskins - South of the James; J.C. Wilmore - The Richmond Democrat; Jason Kenney - j's notes; Marijean Jaggers - StLWorkingMom; Alton Foley - ImNotEmeril; Chris Green - Spank That Donkey; Shaun Kenney; Jennifer L. McKeever - Jennifer's Charlottesville; Rick Sincere - Rick Sincere News and Thoughts; Claire Guthrie Gastanaga - ChangeServant; Charles - TwoConservatives; James Atticus Bowen - Deo Vindice; Melissa and Kristen - Monstrosity; Del. Kris Amundson and Del. Bob Brink - 7 West; Semi Truths; Thomas Krehbiel - The Krehbiel Strikes Back; Craig Vitter - Craig’s Musings; Don Harrison -- Save Richmond; Sisyphus
Note: An anonymous "comment" asked about the list above, and how to get on it. Rather than post my reply in the comments section, I felt it would be better to put it here, where more people are likely to see it.
While any number of bloggers may decide to abide by the spirit of the Weekend Without Echoes project, quite on their own, all the blogs/bloggers listed this post were good enough to contact Vivian Paige, or me, about their plans to do so. Some have sent emails. Most have simply left comments to that effect in posts at her site, or mine.
Obviously, I hope the idea for this experiment spreads. But it would be impossible for us to monitor the vast blogosphere to try to keep track of which ones want to participate, which ones don’t, or which ones decide to have an alternate blogging experiment in which they will not allow any originality for three days.
So, to be listed at SLANTblog, I’m going to keep it simple -- if a blogger notifies Vivian, or me, then they’re on the list. The rules for the weekend are just as simple, as far as I’m concerned -- bloggers should do their best to keep with the spirit of creating original material. I have no interest in becoming a blogging policeman, so we’ll all be on our honor to play fair. Hopefully, that will be good enough in most cases.
It costs nothing to be in on this experiment. My hope is that it will spawn a festival of originality that will be a breath of fresh air in the midsummer doldrums. I hope it gives some writers (such as myself) a deadline to finish a piece they’ve been meaning to wind up, but lacked an incentive. I hope it hastens the day that the copycat conformity of the stale Postmodern Era comes a crashing halt ... whew!
And, I hope anyone who wants to be on SLANTblog’s list of participating bloggers for the Weekend Without Echoes will let us know, so we can add them to the eclectic list of writers who enjoy a challenge.
First, of course I knew some people wouldn't like anything that is different. That's fine. But, let’s get one thing straight -- when I mentioned Shear and Morse, I didn’t mean to imply they were putting the blogging community down. Those two hardly wagged fingers and told their audience to be more like them, as it seems some have inferred. No. They were answering specific questions and I took the essence of what they said out of its context, in order to give the reader a little background.
So, the jabs at Shear and Morse are unfounded.
Anyway, the Weekend Without Echoes was my idea. My regular readers know I’ve been griping about the echo chamber thing for months. Finally, I decided to do something other than complain. This project is designed to bring out the best in those writers who want to take part in it. I predict we’ll see some fresh, worthwhile pieces to read that weekend (July 21-23). Now the experiment has taken on a life of its own and I’m delighted with that, too.
Give Shear and Morse a break. They were good enough to be guinea pigs at the Blog Summit. I salute them and all the other speakers for showing up at all. Meanwhile, here’s the updated (12:15 p.m., July 8) list of willing bloggers who are in on the project:
Vivian J. Paige; Bryan - Ambivalent Mumblings; Jerry Griffin - VB Dems; Waldo Jaquith; Conaway Haskins - South of the James; J.C. Wilmore - The Richmond Democrat; Jason Kenney - j's notes; Marijean Jaggers - StLWorkingMom; Alton Foley - ImNotEmeril; Chris Green - Spank That Donkey; Shaun Kenney; Jennifer L. McKeever - Jennifer's Charlottesville; Rick Sincere - Rick Sincere News and Thoughts; Claire Guthrie Gastanaga - ChangeServant; Charles - TwoConservatives; James Atticus Bowen - Deo Vindice; Melissa and Kristen - Monstrosity; Del. Kris Amundson and Del. Bob Brink - 7 West; Semi Truths; Thomas Krehbiel - The Krehbiel Strikes Back; Craig Vitter - Craig’s Musings; Don Harrison -- Save Richmond; Sisyphus
Note: An anonymous "comment" asked about the list above, and how to get on it. Rather than post my reply in the comments section, I felt it would be better to put it here, where more people are likely to see it.
While any number of bloggers may decide to abide by the spirit of the Weekend Without Echoes project, quite on their own, all the blogs/bloggers listed this post were good enough to contact Vivian Paige, or me, about their plans to do so. Some have sent emails. Most have simply left comments to that effect in posts at her site, or mine.
Obviously, I hope the idea for this experiment spreads. But it would be impossible for us to monitor the vast blogosphere to try to keep track of which ones want to participate, which ones don’t, or which ones decide to have an alternate blogging experiment in which they will not allow any originality for three days.
So, to be listed at SLANTblog, I’m going to keep it simple -- if a blogger notifies Vivian, or me, then they’re on the list. The rules for the weekend are just as simple, as far as I’m concerned -- bloggers should do their best to keep with the spirit of creating original material. I have no interest in becoming a blogging policeman, so we’ll all be on our honor to play fair. Hopefully, that will be good enough in most cases.
It costs nothing to be in on this experiment. My hope is that it will spawn a festival of originality that will be a breath of fresh air in the midsummer doldrums. I hope it gives some writers (such as myself) a deadline to finish a piece they’ve been meaning to wind up, but lacked an incentive. I hope it hastens the day that the copycat conformity of the stale Postmodern Era comes a crashing halt ... whew!
And, I hope anyone who wants to be on SLANTblog’s list of participating bloggers for the Weekend Without Echoes will let us know, so we can add them to the eclectic list of writers who enjoy a challenge.
VCU's George auditions for Warriors
This notice came in from Phil Stanton at Virginia Commonwealth University:Former VCU forward Nick George will play with the Golden State Warriors in the Vegas Summer League. As George was not selected in the recent NBA draft, he hopes to sign as a free agent. The Vegas Summer League begins play today. Among George’s teammates are Jose Juan Barea (Northeastern) and Will Bynum (Georgia Tech).
Last season George was fifth in the Colonial Athletic Association in scoring with 16.9 ppg. He was the top three-point shooter in the conference, hitting 47 percent of his attempts. Following the season he was named first-team All-CAA and All-State for the second consecutive year. A four-year starter for the Rams, George scored 1,546 career points (eighth on VCU’s all-time scoring list).
Photo: SLANT
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