So what bothers me more than the domestic spying scandal? More than the wanton flouting of the law? More than the use of private telecommunications infrastructure to conduct warrantless surveillance? More than the ethnic and religous profiling? More than the use of surveilance technologies very similar to those whose use has already been determined by the Supreme Court to constitute an illegal search? More than the accusation that the press is traitorous when the New York Times, et.al. seem to have bent over backwards to protect the adminitration's criminal secrets? What bothers me more than those? The apologists.

Norman Mailer says that humanity naturally moves toward facism.
Maybe that explains the reactions of those who remain sanguine in the face of what may be the most real and most serious threat to our way of life.

During the course of my work day, I noticed a stain on the leg of my pants and I couldn't imagine how it had gotten there. I didn't give it any more thought at the time since there wasn't really anything I could do about it anyway. A little later I caught a glimpse of the stain in the light and saw that it was red. I rolled up my pants leg. I had a cut below my kneecap and the blood had soaked through my pants.
Now, I'm not nature's most graceful beast, but nevertheless, I don't think a man of my intellect should be subjected to such hazards when so little is at stake.

So, for those of you who may, from time to time, find yourselves on the business end of my employer's stick, know that I have, on numerous occasions, shed my blood for you. And know also, that those in my charge have endeavored far more fervently, in fact, than I to accomplish the sometimes impossible tasks set before them.

Oh, I almost forgot. You owe Andrei Codrescu money.

What will you get yourself as a holiday gift this year?

I like to put on the radio to sleep. Usually, I'll listen to the BBC radio feed through iTunes, but if I'm too tired or lazy to go to the computer, I'll put on 24 hour sports talk because I prefer sleeping to talk or news rather than music.

Well, there's this infomercial style radio program that comes on every Saturday morning. It's deceptive in sleep because it sounds like benign football talk at first, but then every two minutes someone is imploring you to "Call my 800 number for guaranteed winners this weekend!" It's the second most annoying thing of all time to hear through one's sleep. Second only to NPR's "Car Talk." God, I hate them.

But on the plus side, when since got home from work at 12:45 am and I had to get up at 8am to go back to work, being annoyed into waking is the only way to get me out of bed.

Bah humbug, motherfuckers!

My Best List of 2005 with a couple from 2004:

1. Common
   Be


2. The New Pornographers
   Twin Cinema


3. The White Stripes
   Get Behind Me Satan


4. Patton Oswalt
   Feelin' Kinda Patton


5. Low
   The Great Destroyer


6. The Postal Service
   Give Up


7. Alison Krauss & Union Station
   Lonely Runs Both Ways


8. Amos Lee
   Amos Lee


9. Wilco
   A Ghost Is Born


10. The Decembrists
    Picaresque

Twin Cinema

Netflix just isn't what it used to be.
Let's go! I want my damn Cindy Sherman movie already!

I am not a selfish man; I only want one thing for Christmas and it came out yesterday.

Use It

Work is hard.
I hadn't been to work in 5 days.
I'm tired.

Why did I get this in my email?
And not just once, but several times over the last month.
My spam folder is comedy gold. Gold, I tell ya!

These Are The Fables

Through Wikipedia I was directed to a collection of object descriptions from a Japanese video game, which reminded me of the following bit of Borges:

...These ambiguities, redundances, and deficiences recall those attributed to a certain Chinese encyclopedia entitled Celestial Emporium of Benevolent Knowledge. On those remote pages it is written that animals are divided into:

(a) those that belong to the Emperor,
(b) embalmed ones,
(c) those that are trained,
(d) suckling pigs,
(e) mermaids,
(f) fabulous ones,
(g) stray dogs,
(h) those that are included in the present classification,
(i) those that tremble as if they were mad,
(j) innumerable ones,
(k) those drawn with a very fine camel's hair brush,
(l) others,
(m) those that have just broken a flower vase,
(n) those that from a long way off look like flies.

Verisimilitude

Main Entry: veri·si·mil·i·tude
Pronunciation: -s&-'mi-l&-"tüd, -"tyüd
Function: noun

Etymology: Latin verisimilitudo, from verisimilis verisimilar,
from veri similis like the truth

1: the quality or state of being verisimilar
2: something verisimilar

-veri·si·mil·i·tu·di·nous /-"mi-l&-'tüd-n&s, -'tyüd-; -'tü-d &n-&s, -'tyü- /adjective

Stacked Crooked

Yes.
Yes, indeed.


And now, submitted for your amusement:
"Trapped In The Closet" as performed by Sims.

Streets of Fire

Hello boys and girls!

Well, it's been a while since we last got together like this. Yes, there were some technical issues here which turned out to be browser related. But, you know I'm starting to wonder out loud if the days of the ol' alpha charlie bravo aren't simply on the wane. It's too unstructured for an undisciplined mind like mine. Then again, I've always aspired to possess some rudimentary form of discipline that could still, perhaps, manifest itself here.

Hey, who knew France was Europe's own Benton Harbor, eh?

Well, thanks for stopping by.
I'm sure we'll be seeing you again real soon.

Technical Difficulties, Please Stand By...

Can you hear me now?

Um...

Um... I don't know how to feel. The White Sox are going to win the World Series. What is this? What does this mean? What do I do? I'm looking forward to the indictments in the Plame case. I know how to be excited about that, but the World Series? Everything is so strange.

I mean... Geoff Blum? There was an interview with Blum on mlb.com a couple of days ago and he seemed such the odd-man out. It seemed he still wasn't sure whether to be upset about being traded.

What is this world coming to? Should I be frightened?

And of course I, like so many, tried and failed. But, I was close I tell you, I was close.
I clicked through the ticketmaster page at 11:59:59. I got to the event page and clicked through. I waited for the next page to load. You know, the one that asks you to type in the secret word hiding in the lattice work box? It loaded at 12:01:24. The problem is, the image with the encrypted word didn't load with the page. And thus, I was stuck. Stuck and thwarted.

But, I see there were fewer than 4000 tickets available for each game so... what the hell? Nobody gets tickets. Unless you or someone you know works for Major League Baseball.
Or U.S. Cellular.
Or one of the 29 other teams.

"Is This Heaven?"

"America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It's been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past. It reminds us of all that once was good and that could be again."

-- James Earl Jones as Terrence Mann in "Field of Dreams"

Call my 800 number right now to get my guaranteed NFL point spread winners for this Sunday. That's right. Get the winners for today's New England v. Atlanta and Indianapolis v. San Francisco contests absolutely free. Don't try to do this alone. Get help from the experts. Why take chances when you can call now and let the experts do the work for you. Have a winning weekend with these two guaranteed NFL victors. Call now!

Do you have what it takes?

I want to give Tony Graffanino a hug. Maybe two hugs. One of consolation and one of gratitude.

Would it be too much to ask for the local news media to not treat a baseball game as if it were the most important event to occur that day?

Go, local sports teams.

During all the speculation about who would be nominated to the SCotUS when O'Connor decided to retire, someone really should have turned up John Roberts, who not only is dashingly handsome, but who had worked in the previous "original flavor" Bush administration. I mean, it would fit the pattern. But no one did and John Roberts appeared as a surprise. Either "an inspired choice" or a fortunate fluke.

So now, the question is:
Who is... Henry Jaglom.
No, wait. Who is Harriet Miers?

"I think it's important to bring somebody from outside the system, the judicial system, somebody that hasn't been on the bench and, therefore, there's not a lot of opinions for people to look at."

Ok. So you're saying you're just going to stand in front of the crease and try to slip one through the five hole, eh?

"And what I believe, and what I know is important, is that she doesn't change over the course of time. And had I thought she would change, I wouldn't put her on there."

Most people change over time, don't they? We learn. We grow.
Just look at David Souter.

I'm rather concerned about this one. At least with Roberts you could see how his mind works. Those memos from his tenure in the Justice Department turned out to be quite helpful in drawing out his legal epistemology. Maybe Harriet will be revealed to be J.R.'s aesthetically challenged and less credentialed legal doppleganger. But, I'm dubious. Who names their kid Harriet anyway?

Go Sox!

It's a celebration, bitches!

                     

"Wake me up when September ends."

Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?

We need this man:





I found this in my archive. I had completely forgotten about that post. [sigh]

So who's going to the NU game tomorrow?
I need football.
No, love.
No, football.

Have you ever tried to fall on your own sword only to have someone pull it out from under you and start hacking off limbs? And then you're all like, "Hey, give me back my sword. I was going to use that!"
No?
It's a strange phenomenon.

So anyway, The Brown Bunny. Well, I cheated.
I, perhaps out of a prurient curiosity, watched the end of the movie first. The ironic thing is, I think the movie is better if you watch the end first. What's missing from all those scenes of Vincent Gallo driving cross country is (gasp) exposition.

It's an austere, sometimes absurd, but often beautiful film when you have some insight into the protagonist's psyche. The problem is, you get nothing like that until the end. Gallo could have even offered a plausible red herring that would have been sufficiently compelling to carry the audience to the surprising conclusion.

Roger Ebert did a complete 180 on The Brown Bunny after calling it the worst film in the history of the Cannes festival. I suspect, whether he realizes it or not, that his reversal can be attributed as much to knowing the ending already as to the 26 minutes of post festival edits.

So, all you young filmmakers out there take note. Exposition is important. You have to give the audience a reason to care.

Oh, maybe you're wondering about the infamous scene. Well, at one point I thought it could be a stunt dick, but I clearly saw scrotum. So I'm thinking they went for the verisimilitude.

Which reminds me... There are certain people who whenever they appear on screen, I recoil in horrific expectation of the skanktastic performance I'm about to witness:

Chloe Sevigny see: above, Dogville, Gummo. On second thought, don't see Gummo, ever.

Juliette Lewis see: Kalifornia, Natural Born Killers

Courtney Love see: well, anything she's ever been in. Her appearance in "Basquiat" is what inspired the creation of this unofficial list.

Pat Robertson: U.S. should assassinate Venezuela's Chavez

Well, that is the Christian way to deal with political issues.

You can take the Jew out of Gaza,
but you can't take Gaza out of the Jew.





I really don't know what that means.

Whoa. I can't believe Morning Edition is on and I've only just gotten home. So now should I watch The Brown Bunny or should I just go to sleep?

I guess it's a special day if you're the black reporter designate for a local Tv station and it's time to cover the John H. Johnson funeral. It sure beats the hell out of covering the latest "toddler killed in gang crossfire on the South Side" story.

But, I have two questions:

1) How is it possible that Bill Clinton is more comfortable in a room full of negroes than I am?

B) What the hell is that on Carol Moseley Braun's head?

Ha! We closed the place!

"The moon belongs to America and anxiously awaits the arrival of our Astromen."

When and for what reason did I buy a Belle and Sebastian album from iTunes? Was I drunk? Did I somehow catch "teh ghey?"

As Monday night turned into Tuesday morning I was sitting at a blackjack table next to a guy who said he needed to make some money because his tuition was due at 7:00. He ordered a tequila shot, so I ordered one too, paid for both and walked out with a purple chip. So now, as far as I'm concerned, Monday night is officially casino night. That is until I get wiped out at the tables.

Gather 'round boys and girls. It's finally time again for:

alpha charlie bravo's True Student Theater Stories.

A couple of years after I had graduated High School I was asked by my former H.S. Drama teacher to serve as assistant director for the school's Spring production which was also going to serve as her graduate thesis. I also played a part in the production.

We didn't have a conventional proscenium stage. The theater, which was newly built, was basically a large room with some theatrical lighting fixtures. It doubled as a classroom during the school day. We designed the set with a large playing space center stage at floor level and platforms going up the sides culminating in a raised playing space upstage.

All the actors remained on stage throughout the entire play. If an actor wasn't in a particular scene, he would go off to the side platforms or some other space away from the action.

There was a point in the play when I was placed with my back to the audience at one of the raised side platforms away from the scene taking place. The next scene began with my line, so I would turn, say my line and step down into the center stage area.

Now, I've always liked military turns. I do them in my day to day life. I lift my right foot, place my right toe behind my left heel, turn on my right foot 180 degrees and bring my left foot forward to meet my right. I must have done it that way a dozen times in rehearsal: turn, say the line, walk into the scene.

The first time we performed the play for an audience and reached that particular scene, I opened my mouth to speak, lifted my right foot and placed my right toe behind my left heel as always.
But where there should have been a stage platform under my right foot... there was only air.

I fell.
I fell while turning 180 degrees and landed with hips and shoulders rolling onto arms and chest.

Without a breath of hesitation I stood, spoke my line and continued with the scene as intended.

I keep hoping today is Friday.
I can't believe it's not Friday.

Damn.

Is it Friday, now?

Damn

"I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way."

Netflix is my Jeebus.

I'm watching Kurosawa's Throne of Blood and this version of the DVD features a kick-ass drawing of Toshiro Mifune.

Check it out:



Doesn't he look bad-ass?
So, I started thinking, what if this film were animated? What if other Kurosawa films were animated? Wouldn't it be cool if someone digitally rotoscoped Seven Samurai or Yojimbo?

So now, if you're a film or television producer you're stroking you're chin and thinking, "hmm... that's actually a good idea."
Well, hold on. I've go another one for you.

It's an Americanized Tv series based on Lars Von Trier's The Five Obstructions. I would say more, but I've got my copy of NCAA '06 here waiting to be played.

New World Water

Everything should be open 24 hours.
Right now I should be playing NCAA 2006, but nothing's open after 11:00pm, so I'm not.

I have become hooked on Glaceau's expensive, tasty Vitamin Water. One of the reasons I like it so much, is that each flavor is associated with a concept. I often drink an "Energy" or a "Power-C" before work and a "Revive" after. For me, it's not just the particular vitamin combination that makes those concepts manifest in the drink. It's the words written on the bottle itself that turn a marketing concept into a physical reality.
I saw a movie that tells me it's true.

I'm always fascinated by people who are, as the colloquial metaphor goes, open books. The idea that someone, a virtual stranger or a co-worker, would feel compelled to tell me details of their personal life when I have shown no prior interest in such matters mystifies me. Especially considering that I myself have some sort of sub-rational aversion to disclosure.

In other news, I have sideburns. They kind of snuck up on me. I wasn't paying attention to the fact that I hadn't been shaving them and then one day: surprise! I'm Luke Perry.

Some CBS/Infinity radio stations have started streaming their broadcasts live. I was trying to listen to one of these while composing a blog post. The damn page crashed my browser. So I lost a long sprawling post on my adventures this past Friday which included a biker gang, gambling and a babbling Chinese woman.
I'm not rewriting it, so you'll just have to use your imagination.

There will be a real post here... at some point. Probably 12 hours from now.

And now, alpha charlie bravo is somewhat embarassed to present another installment of:
alpha charlie bravo's True Student Theater Stories.

I was in a morbid musical based on a book called Wisconsin Death Trip. The director decided to make the grand symbolic gesture of having us perform most of the final song with our eyes closed.

At one point, we were required to reach out with sudden desperation and grab the shoulder of the person next to us. I should note here that we were not to be standing in any kind of uniform straight line arrangement. I knew that the person I had to reach out for was going to be within arm's reach somewhere to the left of me, but I couldn't see exactly where she was.

She was also rather short and I didn't want to reach out and poke her in the eye or something so I made it a point to aim low.
The first time we rehearsed this scene, my arm made an inspired dramatic reach into space... and I grabbed a handful of boobie.
Oops.

This has been alpha charlie bravo's True Student Theater Stories.

I have a real distaste for the persistence of superstition in this, our so-called modern world. Why with all we know about game theory and quantum physics do those who should know better continue to legitimize superstitious ideas, I cannot understand. Today, in the New York Times, the New York fuck Times(!), is an article about the Red Sox visiting the Cubs. The article does quite a bit of curse comparison. Hey, there's a black cat living under Wrigley Field, oooh. I... I just... I don't know. I guess I can see how Bush won the election.

In other news, according to Mayor Daley, everybody is selling heroin. It's not just city employees. It's federal employees, state employees, the private sector...
It's everybody.

Well, since I'm still awake, let me pose this question:

If there was one book, movie, song, image, etc. that a stranger could read, see, listen to in order to gain some sort of fundamental understanding of who you are as a person, what would it be?

I used to feel that that object for me was George Orwell's "Keep the Aspidistra Flying." I'm not sure I would assert that with the same amount of conviction today. But, maybe if I could just add a bit of Proustian nostalgaic melancholy to Orwell's novel, it would still provide significant insight into my psyche.

You know, on second thought, maybe drinking an iced latte at midnight isn't such a good idea.

And so why am I not writing here lately? Well, I seem to have three fundamental preoccupations, none of which I think makes for good blogging. Let's examine them:

• Work:
Apparently, when things start going well, that means it's time to change everything.

• Doctor Who:
I can't even watch the show since it's not available anywhere in the U.S. and yet I'm thoroughly obsessed. I've had to resist the urge to post the words "Bad Wolf" here.

• Sex:
Which I have about as much access to as the new Doctor Who series.

So, I'll try to work on something to blog on besides those narrow topics.

Well, the fillibuster is safe, for now. Which is good because otherwise Mr. Smith Goes to Washington would become anachronistic.

And now another installment of The World According To...
Or, more specifically, 5th Circuit U.S. Court of Åppeals nominee Priscilla Owen according to former Texas Supreme Court Associate Justice Alberto Gonzalez:

Alberto Gonzales v. Priscilla Owen

Now, where was I? Ah yes, being poked with a stick.

I once fell asleep behind the set during a play. A guy named Prashanth took a wooden pole that was a prop (it was about 6 feet long) and poked me with it to wake me.

I like to sleep. I also like not sleeping, which inevetibly leads to sleeping--sometimes in strange places.

You know, in retrospect, I really wish I had changed the "Now Playing" title at least. I apologise for the interesting conceptually, but not actually worth listening to music that has been promoted here for the past 15 days. I've been giving the Mars Volta's Frances the Mute another listen lately, but it is Martha Wainwright's 150p x 150p image that will appear in the right column for awhile.

I don't care about Star Wars. I liked the original movies, but I have not seen, nor have I been interested in any of the prequels. This fact provides me with a slight feeling of superiority. That is, until I recall that I've been suffering from a Doctor Who obsession since the premiere of the new series on the BBC. The symptoms include: spending an inordinate amount of time on the elaborate BBC website devoted to the series, seeking out old Doctor Who episodes on Netflix and placing them at the top of my queue, wringing my hands over the anticipated North American release of Season 1 of the new series on DVD. I'm not sure if I need to find a community or a therapy group. I've tried to keep quiet about all this, but I want to share with you two things:

• The Last Dalek Game A Flash game based on Episode 6.


• The Fear Forecasters The BBC's response to parents who complained the show is too scary for children. It is, it seems to me, simultaneously an extended middle finger to and an active disclaimer for such complaints.

What is it about the convergence of science fiction and childhood that captures permanently our imaginative spirit?

Sleep is overrated. At least, that's what I'm telling myself at the moment.

Runaway Train,
Runaway Jury.

Can a Runaway Bride movie be far behind? Oh wait, nevermind.

Hey, can someone who's been to Ravinia tell me, is it better to have lawn seats or pavillion seats?

Today is May Day.

Well, I don't know what went wrong. I still don't understand how the College of Cardinals chose Benedict the One Six over me, alphaCardinalcharliebravo. I submitted my papplication in a timely fashion and I even wrote the cover letter in Latin.

Now what? I've been weighing my options.
I could try to position myself as a doctrinal Antipope in the mold of Hippolytus. But, that's a clear path to excommunication.

My other option is to become ordained in the Universal Life Church and take on a special religious title. They don't offer Pope, so I'm leaning towards Universal Philosopher of Absolute Reality.

alpha charlie bravo is on the clock...

What Office Space character are you?

Pope Joan?

"According to medieval legend, Pope Joan was a female pope who reigned from 855 to 858."

"Supposedly, since her time, any candidate for the pope undergoes an intimate examination to ensure he is not a woman (or eunuch) in disguise.
This involved sitting on a chair which has a hole in the seat. The most junior deacon present then feels under the chair to ensure the new Pope is male: 'And in order to demonstrate his worthiness, his testicles are felt by the junior present as testimony of his male sex.
When this is found to be so, the person who feels them shouts out in a loud voice testiculos habet ("He has testicles") And all the clerics reply Deo Gratias ("Thanks be to God"). Then they proceed joyfully to the consecration of the pope-elect"

It all makes sense now.

Sing it with me now:
"The Inquisition! Let's Begin!"
"The Inquisition! Watch out sin!"

The Onion A.V. Club has some ideas for which music artists I should be devoting more attention to. So, I gave them some attention and they all suck the mop. Except, for the first band: The Decemberists. I downloaded their album, Picaresque, and to my surprise it's the best record I've heard all year. But don't ask me what it sounds like and don't ask me if you would like it, because I really couldn't say. I guess if you like Belle and Sebastian you will like The Decemberists. But, I don't like Belle and Sebastian, really, and I love this record. So I don't know what to tell you.

I'm seeing a considerable desire on the part of the lay Catholic community to allow the ordination of women. I just want to make clear that if I am elected Pope, which could happen any day now, I have no plans to ordain women. It's just not part of my reformation agenda.

The Bookmakers are still betting on Ratzinger.

I'm putting myself at 250 - 1.

Well, it's taken me all night. But, after hours of reading drwhoguide.com, I've finally come to terms with the destruction of Gallifrey. Nevermind. Don't ask.

By the way, Chris Eccleston, you're dead to me. You hear? Dead.

Actually I need to go back a bit and explain. In the course of my geek indulgent Doctor Who study, I ran across a concept that was novel for me and has not insignificantly influenced my thinking about the world the past few hours.

Since the original Doctor Who Tv series ended in 1989, the stories have continued mainly in serialized novels to which I have paid no attention whatsoever, which is why I was trying to catch up a bit, with the new series going on now.

In one of those stories there is a not terribly original alien investigates the human mind scenario by subjecting human to various imagined life or death situations. In this case, the aliens are examining the human's assertion that her actions are guided by principles. She is placed in one situation in which she must sacrifice herself to save a planet. Another wherein she must destroy a planet to save a galaxy. And another in which she must kill an infant who will grow up to be terribly destructive.

After observing her, the alien concludes that her choices are guided by aesthetics. It is more difficult for her to kill a baby than destroy an entire planet because of the image it creates in her mind.

Now, I probably should have thought of this before. Or, at least, read it somewhere. But isn't it true? How many of the choices we make--decisions about right and wrong-- are aesthetic choices masquerading as morality?

I don't know. I have to think about this some more.
In other news, I'm eating with chopsticks.

Why couldn't Eddy Curry just have herpes?

I'm proud to introduce a new feature here at alpha charlie bravo. It's called: "This I beli-- wait, no that's something else. It's called "The World According to..."

Today, The World According To John Bolton, nominee for U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations:

"There's no such thing as the United Nations."

"If you removed 10 stories from the U.N. building it wouldn't make a bit of difference."

"If the Security Council were remade today, it would have only one permanent member, the United States."

"International law really isn't law."

"While treaties may well be politically or even morally binding, they are not legally obligatory."

What is that colloquial "definition" of insanity?



Ah, yes.

This Space For Rent

Karol Józef Wojtyla:

I know you and I had our disagreements, but I just wanted to say, thanks. Well done.

Can I run for Pope?

Yeah, like I said: lazy and undisciplined. And the "network" is stalled.

The weather is so nice. What should I do with my morning?

In other news, what should I do with my tax refund?

It's not that I'm out of content, it's just that I'm A: fundamentally lazy and B: undisciplined.

Now, I've got two days of training at work this week, which is almost like having two days off and I'm on vacation next week. So, I seem to be suffering from vacationitis. The primary symptom of which is not caring much what happens at work this week. Blow the damn thing up, what do I care? I won't be here next week.
So let's see: lazy, undisciplined and cavalier. That's why I got the big 5% raise!

I was in Borders last night and I walked past Malcolm Gladwell's new book "Blink" on the new non-fiction shelf. As a result, two questions occurred to me:

When did Malcolm Gladwell go from the black Christopher Walken:



To the black Steven Pinker:




Also, what was the tipping point for the phrase "the tipping point?"

I have answers for neither.
Now, excuse me while I geek out.

It's Friday again? Hey, alright.

Floor Hockey anyone?

Golf anyone? I have no idea why I received a ticket brochure for the Western Open, but I wouldn't mind seeing a round of PGA golf.

That is all. Go back to doing whatever is you do.

I have now, officially, diversified out of the dollar.

Also, as an American taxpayer and therefore the rightful owner of Iraq, I demand free gasoline.

Um... What day is it?

Politics makes strange bedfellows.
From: Ha'aretz:

"WASHINGTON - MK Benny Elon (National Union) invests more time and effort than perhaps any other Israeli in nurturing the relationship with Evangelical Christians in the U.S. As minister of tourism during the intifada, Elon promoted visits by Evangelical churches to Israel, and he continues to attend their conferences and speak out against diplomatic compromise on the Land of Israel.
In Elon's view, it is a productive relationship; Evangelical churches in the United States, with a combined membership of more than 50 million, are the closest thing to the Yesha Council of settlements on the other side of the Atlantic. Church leaders believe the Land of Israel belongs to Jews, and that only after the Jews settle the land will Jesus be able to return. There is a minor argument, of course, over what will happen in the end of days - the Evangelicals believe Jews will either cease to exist or will convert to Christianity - but this argument is on hold for now."

Getting Tight with the Bible Belt

I was listening to NPR yesterday and they were having a discussion about Ariel Sharon's Gaza withdrawl plan and the threats against his life being made because of it. It was explained that these threats are taken seriously because an Israeli prime minister had been assasinated ten years ago.
Are we so detatched from history and/or world affairs that people don't remember or simply don't know about the assasination of Yitzhak Rabin? Is it just me?

Alright. Top five political assasinations of the 20th century. (Heads of State only)
Here's mine:

1. Archduke Franz Ferdinand (and his wife Sophie)
2. John F. Kennedy
3. Yitzhak Rabin
4. Anwar Sadat
5. Ngo Dinh DIem

Rain means never having to wash your car.

J.J. Jr's decision not to run for mayor has thwarted my capricious and megalomaniacal plans to run for Congress. I guess I'm going to have to move. But, in the meantime...


(I don't really have anything else to say. I guess I don't have an ending for this post. But, hey feel free to imagine your own ending. Does anybody have a vulnerable congressman?)

Alright. I admit it. I've got nuclear weapons. Now leave me the hell alone.

I'm considering adopting a British accent. It makes one seem imminently knowledgeable. Or maybe just a "Mid-Atlantic" like Madonna uses. Ålthough I don't think that has quite the same effect.

By the way, we are now into Year 3 of alpha charlie bravo.
The conquest continues.

The Song in My Head

Is it wrong to contemplate unemployment as a lifestyle choice?

I look like I've been in a fight. The second knuckle on my left hand is bright red where a piece of metal scraped off some of my skin. My bottom lip is swollen and discolored from the stupid recoil impact that results from trying to move an object with more force than is necessary. I may be forced to admit that I am accident prone.

I would be thoroughly excited about the fact that Low is playing at the Metro this weekend with Pedro the Lion if it were not on Friday and if it were not the case that I will be at work while those two bands are entertaining.

And so I wonder if this Super Bowl commercial zeitgeist is reaching its nadir. It seems more and more that advertisers aren't doing anything special. Seldom do you see the launch of a new product or advertising campaign.

Also, this just in: Charlie Chaplin = genius.

If I see my shadow when I crawl out of bed today, I'm not going to work.

Can you believe it's State of the Union time already? I think I'm still hungover from the election. Well, it should be fun. I expect lots of gloating about Iraq. I guess that Iraqi "Vote and/or Die" campaign was successful.
Can anyone really say what that election will ultimately mean? Can anyone see with any true clarity where this is headed?

I went on an iTunes binge this weekend. The results were mixed. Some of what I downloaded was thoroughly disappointing. (Yes, Rufus Wainwright, I'm looking in your direction.) But, I now know what I want to do with my life. I want to sing in a Jeff Buckley cover band.

"I had quit everything in my life up until that point... and here I was in the middle of something that I really wanted to quit and I couldn't quit."

-Ken Finkelman on directing Airplane 2

Well, I guess I know how he feels.

Apparently, the entire Today Show is about Johnny Carson. That is, except for a segment on Donald Trump's wedding. It's comforting to know that we live in a world where the lives and deaths of entertainers are the most important topics an ostensible news program can discuss. War? Poverty? No longer an issue. Oh, brave new world!

So who's got Johnny Carson in the death pool?

I learned three important life lessons on Saturday:

1) You can dance like The Pips (of Gladys Knight and The Pips) to any song.
Although there are tempos that make doing so cumbersome.

2) It is never too late for pancakes. If I may paraphrase Lyle Lovett:
Look, I understand too little too late
I realize there are things you say and do
You can never take back
But what would you be if you didn't even try
You have to try
So after a lot of thought
I'd like to reconsider
Please, If it's not too late
[Bring me some pancakes!]

3. I hate Lincoln Ave. I've had this enmity smoldering within me for a few months
and now I feel comfortable fully embracing it.

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to Justice everywhere."
-MLK



(I always forget to do that.)

Whoa. I kind of went incommunicado for a while there, didn't I? All work and no play make alpha charlie bravo something... something...

I joined Netflix last week. I have a problem with video stores. I never return videos on time. Never. I have an irrational aversion to returning rented videos. So receiving them in the mail and returning them through the mail is a nice convenience for me.

This week I received my first group of movies. I watched Lost in Translation and Day For Night. But this is what makes Netflix potentially great: Somewhere in my queue is The Five Obstructions. I challenge you to find a chain video store that carrys "The Five Obstructions."

Now, you may be aware that I have started a little digital discussion group: The North Occidental Symposium. I find it a bit disappointing that there are only five registered members. Especially considering that two of those members are me. Nevertheless, there has actually been discussion taking place. You are invited, welcomed, encouraged to participate. If you didn't receive an invitation email me.

The North Occidental Symposium debuts today. Of course, it was supposed to debut on Monday when I was supposed to come back from hiatus. Anyway, if you didn't get the email let me know, I'll add you to the group.

I was watching Nightly Business Report on PBS on Monday, and they made two glaring errors completely destroying any confidence I may have had in that program. During a report about how the S&P 500's performance in the month of January predicts with 90% accuracy the market's performance for the year, (which would be complete nonsense if it weren't for the reflexivity of the market. see: Soros: The Alchemy of Finance) the reporter mentioned that 2005 should be a good year because the market does well in the fifth year of every decade. I did have to count on my fingers, but I believe that this is the sixth year of the decade beginning with year 2000.

Then shockingly, their wacky "Hey Martha!" story at the end of the broadcast was a building attempting to celebrate the new year by displaying "2005" in lights. However someone must have been working late in the office that night because the lights displayed "3005" instead.
"Looks like someone added an extra century," the anchor quipped.

Hmm...no.