Monday, September 22 (Morning) - I compose a post whining about the arrogance of Gattaca Software, an infamously bad employer that I not only don't care to work for, but wants me to beg for a job.

Monday, September 22 (Afternoon) - A company called TAG calls me about a job opening. I was initially excited. I agreed to an interview the next day. He said I was overqualified for the position and he wanted it filled right away (the interview, he said, was mostly a formality). I'd recalled applying for them with four others on Thursday, but remembered little about them. Since I hadn't heard of them, I figured they were probably up in Dallas (I applied to two jobs in Dallas, two in Houston, and one in Austin).

I go back and see which job they were offering and ta-da, they're in Austin.

"Oh crap!"

As per my policy, I sent them my "Austin resume" with a local address. Most employers won't call back if they don't think you're local and since I have a place to live in Fort Worth, Austin, and Houston, I apply to each of them locally.

Except... the friend who lives there moved to Alabama.

"Oh crap!!!"

So I spend the morning scrambling to find out if there is anyone's couch I can sleep on for the three month tenure of the position. I have one friend in North Austin and another in San Marcos. Since the job is on the south side and the San Marcos friend is among my very best, I call him first.

"Dude, you can't sleep on the couch..." he says.

Crud.

"We've got a spare bedroom."

Yeehaw! That's perfect. I'd love to live with said friend for a few months. That'd be not only practical, but downright awesome.

That's about when I knew that I wasn't going to get the job.

Tuesday, September 23 (Morning) - TAG called and cancelled the interview. Apparently there was some sort of aptitude test I am supposed to take. It's apparently not a conditional factor of employment, but simply paperwork to be shuffled. Unfortunately, their client (I found out that TAG is a recruiting firm) didn't have them available. He said he was aiming for the end of the week, but it would take the test a couple weeks or so to come in. I was too tired to make sense of this except to think:

Bummer.

Tuesday, September 23 (Afternoon) - The Gattaca Software Company called and informed me that they do have an opening for me as a network technician. The more they explained it, the more it sounded like the job my roommate has with them (he got the spot with less experience and without a college degree... what did I get by going to college again?)

We lined up an interview for Thursday (25th) afternoon. I use the word "interview" lightly, as I was only going in to give blood, urine, and hair samples take an IQ test.

Thursday, September 25 (Afternoon) - I went in to Gattaca Software's corporate headquarters for my test. I had to fill out a basic application. I nervously do. Not nervous because I have something to hide, mind you, but because I was afraid to make any mistakes and have to erase them. I can just imagine the GSC scientists looking over the document:

John: "There is a smudge of an erasermark over his name. I don't believe that we want to hire someone that doesn't even know their own name. DENIED!"
Jim: "His 'm' in Company looks an awful lot like an 'n'. I don't believe we want to hire anyone that makes any mistakes ever."
John: "So right, Jim, or anyone that displays any semblence of being human at all..."

The test washeavily timed. I hate heavily timed test. My mind works slow, but thorough. I gave it my best and came away thinking that I probably did quite well.

Friday, September 26 (Afternoon) - I called up TAG to get some clarifications on the things I was too drowsy to understand before. He says that their client is likely to forego the test. He's awaiting instruction on how to preceed. He takes a look at my resume and says that I am more than perfect for the job. He told me to call them back if I hadn't heard from him in a couple of days. Employment through TAG started looking optomistic again.

Monday, September 29 (Afternoon) - Gattaca called again. It was a different person than before that explained to me everything that I already knew about the job. She asked when I might be able to come in for an interview. I made one at the next available appointment, Tuesday morning.

Tuesday, September 30 (Morning) - I went in and interview with a woman who looks quite a bit like Liv Tyler. I believe that I did remarkably well with it, which is great considering that interviews are not my strongsuit (and I was working on little sleep). After I finished with that, she told me that I had another round of tests to take: Mental acuity, current events, mechanical knowledge, and a personality profiling test.

When I finished with that, they had me fill out a second job application, this time with essay questions:

"When have you blown it big time and how did you react to your fuck-up?"

"What do you do in your spare time?"

"Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Communist Party?"

"Are you a fugitive from justice in any American states? (Canada also included)"

"Have you ever sold drugs?"

"If so, how much?"

"If not, why not?"

I finished the test and came home.

Tuesday, September 30 (Afternoon) - I called TAG again. They told me that they haven't heard back from their client yet. They're busy in the process of mass layoffs (presumably in favor of hiring temporary help, like me!).

Unlike certain journalists with an anti-male agenda and strong indifference to football, certain other journalists will at least put the incident in context by explaining who was playing and why someone flew off the deep end.

A Pinson man, upset over Alabama's double overtime loss to Arkansas, held a gun to his son's head and pulled the trigger shortly after Saturday's game ended, authorities said.

The bullet narrowly missed 20-year-old Seth Logan, who now acknowledges he had picked the wrong moment to ask his dad for a car, sheriff's spokesman Deputy Randy Christian said Monday.

I read about that game. Must have been tough for an Alabama fan to endure.

Update: D'oh, forgot to mention that I got the link from Warliberal. Bad Alex.

Heard this before?

After more than a decade of A-grade economic performance and rising prosperity, the question a lot of people are asking is: if we're so rich, why aren't we happy? Tanner's answer is that developments in the modern world - not just economic reforms, but changing technology and our move to more liberated, individualistic lives - are causing our relationships to break down.

Humans are social beings. Our lives have meaning essentially in the context of our relationships with other human beings. So relationships are central to the wellbeing of individuals and society as a whole.

I've heard the argument before. It's a not-atypical screed against materialism and how it eats away at our souls and all that tired jazz.

As a generally free-market capitalist, I reject the notion that this is all "inherent" in the capitalist system. As a techie, I reject the notion that the technology pulls us apart. I'd go a step further and say that capitalism has, in many ways, increased the quantity and the quality of time families spend together.

The idea that capitalism is inherently isolating hails all the way back to Marx who repeatedly stressed the alienation of man from himself, his peers, and his labor. The authors of both the article and the book are both liberal sorts, so while they may not be Marxist, they are at least sympathetic to at least the problems that he identifies.

In some ways, commerce brings us together. It takes me out to the store, where I'll greet the vendor and maybe share a word with him while we wait for my credit card to clear. When I have a job, it gets me to this place where I work with other people towards a common goal. At my last job, I attended a couple of trade shows where we talked with competitors. We were generally friendly and, being in the same business, had a lot to talk about.

Of course, Gittins would argue that this doesn't qualify as "quality time." As compared to family and friend time, generally not, but it's just about as worthwhile (and more productive in many ways) than talking about sports or the latest movie playing at the cinema.

As Gittins points out, time spent at the office does indeed cut in to family and friend time. Capitalism encourages work and work (generally) encourages people to stay away from home. If someone works an 80-hour week, they're depriving their family of quality time. In some cases, they have to work 80 hours to get by. In other cases, they don't have to but choose to because they feel pressured. In yet other cases, they don't have to but choose to so that they can afford nicer things.

"We've built a society in which we have less time for our children, less interaction with our neighbours, less involvement in the community, and less participation in collective activities," he says. "Longer working hours, greater dispersion of families, more solitary entertainment options and more formalised links between government and citizens have all contributed to this pattern."

Much of the stuff we buy - microwaves, fast food, for instance - is intended to save time. But, Tanner says, we're on a treadmill that's always imperceptibly gaining speed.

I do agree that something has been lost in the age of TV dinners, but I was raised by a stay-at-home Mom who cooked and it was generally a solitairy task. I think there is a certain romanticism attached by elements of both the left and right to the notion of a family working and playing together in some Waltonesque way.

But for most people, there is an element of choice involved. If a person is not so inclined, as likely as not they can get home before six or seven PM and the family can eat their TV dinners together. There is nothing inherent in capitalism that makes this not possible.

Except, of course, that many people don't. Some fathers (and mothers) retreat to the office either to avoid their families or in some misguided notion that they must provide to the same degree that the Joneses do.

Capitalism may encourage this mindset, which is both for good (spurs innovation) and ill (people work too long), but capitalism does not (as opposed to, say, capital-c Communism) force anyone at gunpoint to work later hours. It may entice them with goodies if they do, but at any point they can step back and say "I've worked enough here" and take whatever measures they need to in order to have a job that can provide more balance.

Before they had my brother and I, Dad chose to work for the federal government in part for that specific reason.

That's the thing about capitalism. It provides a choice. That people are often inclined to make the wrong choice is not so much a function of capitalism as it is of the way people work. Capitalism on paper is perfect, but then so is Communism and socialism. Each, however, fall prey to human tendencies and of the three, it's my belief that capitalism accomodates them the best.

One could argue that capitalism begets corporate conglomerates which then turn around and limit choice, and to a degree that's true. However, that's as much a matter of tweaking capitalism (anti-trust and anti-monopoly laws) to keep the game as fair as possible, it doesn't justify the repudiation of the entire system as it's given here.

The same can be said of technology. A computer gives someone the option of entering an isolation chamber, but itg gives the same person the option of entering a chat room or IMing someone. Far from disconnecting me, it allowed me to stay connected to some of my best friends while we lived long distances apart.

Mobile phones are another good example.

"My mobile phone might help me stay in touch, but it also interrupts face-to-face conversation and personal interaction," Tanner says. "Mobile phones can seriously detract from the quality - and quantity - of time we spend with our children."

Yeah, it does interrupt face-to-face conversation if you let it. On the other hand, it also enables it by allowing people to leave the house without having to wait around all day for a phone call.

To blame the isolation on technology is to blame the tool instead of user that's operating it.

I'm not arguing that technology is perfect and that there aren't costs, but rather that most of these costs can be minimalized by the user of they so choose. If they don't so choose, that's their choice.

The thing is, I can't entirely disagree with it.

Where I part company with the (liberal) author is in the nature of what's being lost and where the blame lies.

"Our closest and deepest relationships are being eroded by a rising tide of wider personal interaction, and by isolating involvement with individual technologies," Tanner says. "Our crowded lives are cluttered with contact but diminishing in connection."

How do you define "connection"?

Can "connection" not occur over the Internet? My experience tells me very much otherwise. Can "connection" not occur while talking business? Sports?

There are many ways of communication and I think that certain people (liberal-minded folks and women) often fail to appreciate, for instance, male-to-male conversation. Men bond by watching sports, by talking shop, discussing politics and other tangental things. We are less inclined to sit around and talk about how everything makes us feel and there's nothing wrong with that.

There's a certain dichotomy in their argument that quantity of time is being diminished and then turning around and being more concerned with quality of time. It's choice of which is quality (cooking together) and which isn't (working on a work-related project together). It's concerned with family communication when it's occuring between coworkers and peer communication when it's communication about the wrong thing (which is ill-defined).

None of this is to say that parents spend enough time with their kids or each other, but rather that the reasons they cite are more tools that people don't have to use if they don't want to and that a top-down view on what the government can do to change this (which it somehow views as being responsible for it to begin with) is the correct way to go about it.

The author of the article and book in question are both liberal-minded folks. Conservatives with the same concerns often advocate "legislating morality."

The problem is that benign and voluntary action and communications are the product of free will. Take away the free will by way of legislation and the actions become involuntarily thrust upon the people, and their attitude is rarely benign, enforcement is contentious and sporadic, and the results are unfortunate.

I take back the Rawr.

I sooooo take it back!

I just got back in front outside and I feel it. Not the mild chill that has been in the air lately, feeling a little bit (but only a little bit) cool, but real, true, earnest & sincere coolness. I even got to put on a jacket for the first time since March!

Yeeeeeehaw!!!

Then there was this complex worker dude outside. He said "Good morning."

I said "Good morning" back.

Do you know how long it's been since I've said "Good morning" to anyone and it's actually been the morning?!

Booyah!

[mumble grumble curse spit]

Looks at clock.

Clock says 7:40

[mumble grumble curse spit]

Morpheus


?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla

[via Owen "Hercules" Courreges]

Has anyone else noticed their pattern in their CD collecting?

Band come out with first CD. You buy it, you really like it. You like nearly every track on it.

Band releases second CD. Three of four songs are so are propelled to being among your favorites. Three or four other songs you think are really good, but the other 4-6 are kind of lackluster.

Band releases third CD. Some of Band's best stuff is on this CD. Some tracks you can't get enough of it. Three other songs are also really noteworthy. Three of them are lackluster and three of them you wonder "What the hell were they thinking?!"

I seem to run in to this a lot. It's particularly notable when I'm burning artist CDs. I seem to cut disproportionately from the later records, but the later records also seem to get the primary spots on my burns.

Matchbox Twenty is a prime example. My favorite three tracks and my least favorite three are on the third CD. The first CD, meanwhile, is full of good stuff, but it doesn't stand out.

Same is true for Owen Temple, Dog's Eye View / Peter Stuart, Dub Miller*, Bleu Edmondson*, and Will Kimbrough*, among others probably.

(*- These artists have only released two CDs, but the trend has already started).

Anyone else noticed a similar pattern? If so, do you think it's because of:

A. The Band's first album is better all around because he's had his whole life to write the tracks or

B. We listen to the first CD over and over again (because it's all we got) and therefore gain an appreciation for each song and we don't give the loser tracks of the later CDs the same benefit of the doubt.

I should note that there are some counterexamples. They Might Be Giants has very divergent first two CDs and the quality gets more consistent later on. Phil Pritchett's third record was his all-around best.

But they seem to be the exception rather than the rule.

I knew that I really shouldn't. I knew that I needed to get up at 10 at the latest. When the alarm went off, I convinced myself that it would all be okay and went back to bed.

When did I become so persuasive?!?!?!

If I'm that persuasive, convincing myself of something that is absolutely not true, why couldn't I convince all my teachers that dogs ate my homework? Why couldn't I convince Blogger to actually do what I've been needing it to do? Why can't I convince the "low HD space" warning to just go away?

Why can't I convince the sun to just move back a couple hours so I'll still be on schedule?!?!

What state I should live in.

Florida...learn more (score = 100)
Louisiana...learn more (score = 97)
Rhode Island...learn more (score = 97)
Maryland...learn more (score = 95)
Texas...learn more (score =94)
New Jersey...learn more (score = 93)
Massachusetts...learn more (score = 91)
Washington...learn more (score = 90)
South Carolina...learn more (score = 88)
Mississippi...learn more (score = 88)
Alabama...learn more (score = 86)
Georgia...learn more (score = 86)
Delaware...learn more (score = 84)
Pennsylvania...learn more (score = 83)
Connecticut...learn more (score = 83)
Virginia...learn more (score = 80)
Vermont...learn more (score = 78)
North Carolina...learn more (score = 77)
New York...learn more (score = 76)
Hawaii...learn more (score = 76)
Wisconsin...learn more (score = 75)
Tennessee...learn more (score = 74)
Nebraska...learn more (score = 72)
Michigan...learn more (score = 69)
Ohio...learn more (score = 69)
Kentucky...learn more (score = 69)
New Hampshire...learn more (score = 69)
Arkansas...learn more (score = 68)
Illinois...learn more (score = 68)
Oregon...learn more (score = 67)
Minnesota...learn more (score = 67)
Alaska...learn more (score = 66)
South Dakota...learn more (score = 65)
Indiana...learn more (score = 63)
North Dakota...learn more (score = 63)
Maine...learn more (score = 63)
District of Columbia...learn more (score = 60)
Missouri...learn more (score = 60)
California...learn more (score = 59)
Kansas...learn more (score = 59)
Iowa...learn more (score = 59)
West Virginia...learn more (score = 59)
Wyoming...learn more (score = 59)
Oklahoma...learn more (score = 58)
Nevada...learn more (score = 55)
Utah...learn more (score = 53)
Colorado...learn more (score = 47)
New Mexico...learn more (score = 47)
Arizona...learn more (score = 45)
Montana...learn more (score = 45)
Idaho...learn more (score = 44)

In bold are states that I live, have lived, have considered living in, and may live in at some point in the future.

Update: I hate Kevin. Not envious or anything. Just sayin'...

It's UH-mania here at RAWbservations, but it's been something I've been thinking about lately. To those of you uninterested, there'll be one more UH post after this and then you'll see more of the stuff you come here for, whatever in the world that is.

My recent post in regards to the Ten Percent Rule drew sime ire from the Cougfans.com message boards for crimes ranging from demonstrating insufficient school pride to a "pathetic" view on life.

While I was cruising around, though, I found a lot of great links regarding the conference realignment going on since the ACC swiped some teams from the Big East, leading the Big East to eye some of (UH's) Conference USA schools, leading the C*USA to eye some of the Western Athletic Conference schools.

Kevin posted on it last week and a bit ago, which initially got me thinking about it. The Cougfans board increased my interest with links like this one:

The round of conference reshuffling begun by the move of Miami and Virginia Tech from the Big East to the ACC has pitted Conference USA and the Western Athletic Conference against one another in a power struggle for survival, and C-USA has a plan to gain an upper hand.

A source close to the situation, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said inviting Southern Methodist, Rice and Tulsa, along with second-year MAC member Central Florida, seems to be the most viable option to keep C-USA afloat as a 12-team league and stay in the business of big-time college athletics.

I don't really have a dog in this hunt. My primary desire from this is to get the Texas teams together and my secondary desire is to be reasonably competitive. I realize that I'm the exception on this (CougFans are adament about the best possible conference and that's where Kevin seems to stand as well).

If Rice, UH, TCU, and SMU are together in the WAC, that's cool. If they're together in Conference USA, that's cool too. The Cougfans (who know a heck of a lot more about this than me) bemoan the additions of Rice and SMU to the conference because they're not competitive enough. They're much more hot on staying with the C*USA and pulling in Central Florida and another more competitive school.

I understand where they're coming from on that. My feeling on it is that I actually know people who go to Rice and SMU so the games will have more importance to me than a game against East Carolina or Central Florida, even though the latter will look better as far as rankings go. I'd also prefer to play teams in Louisiana and Oklahoma because I'd at least theoretically have a chance to make a road trip from Houston on an important game. Plus I'd rather have a 9-3 record in a less competitive conference than a 3-8 record in a more competitive one. Of course, I say all this and if somehow the SEC (better conference, few local universities)were to extend and invitation, I'd be hard-pressed to turn it down.

Not waiting on that invitation, though.

Of course, rankings do matter, which is why I don't list North Texas (which may not be so bad since they seem to be upwardly mobile, but I'm not excited at the prospect). Rankings (and publicity) matter for recruiting purposes and, almost as importantly, televised games. In that vein Doug's reconferencing scheme leaves me pretty cold. Sure, I like that we're in the same conference as Tulane right now, but ULLafayette or ULMonroe are not particularly attractive schools for conference-mates in his scenario that lumps most non-BCS schools together indiscriminately.

Anyhow, those are my thoughts on the subject.

My tenure at the University of Houston was a marriage between chance and opportunity. It wasn't even on my list of places to go until the time to choose drew near, but once it made it on to the list it shot to the forefront pretty quickly.

When I was a kid, I figured I'd go to UT like my father did. When it came time for my brother to choose a college our house was inundated with material as they explored every possible option, in the end going to UT just like we'd all pretty much predicted. Since David went to UT to become an engineer like Dad, I didn't have to.

One of the materials to help him choose a college was a program for our Apple ][e computer. Not really knowing where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do, I ran through option after option trying to figure out what college best suited every concievable thing that I might've wanted to do when I grew up. Two options near the top of the list were Texas Christian University and Southern Methodist University.

I figured "Hey, neat, colleges in Texas that aren't UT & AM. I wanna go to one of these places!"

Mom and Dad rather forcefully explained that private colleges were out of the question. "Harrumph," I thought, "they just don't care about my education."

Seeing that I was upset, Mom reneged a bit. Or at least seemed to. "If you can give me one thing that those universities offer that a public one doesn't, then you can go there."

Of course they couldn't, which was the point. I was still sure that Mom and Dad just didn't love me enough to sink ten grand a year in tuition so that I could go where I wanted to go, but I quickly moved on from the computer program to a big giant book.

Since cost was so darn important to them, I swept through and wrote down all the cheapest colleges I could find. When I finally determined that I was going to the University of Alabama at Birmingham, I skipped up to Mom and gave her the news. I'm sure she explained about out-of-state tuition and so on, but one thing I remember her saying was "If you just want to find a cheap college, take a look at the University of Guam. You could probably even get a scholarship there."

So then it was settled. I was going to the University of Guam and if I worked hard enough, I might get a scholarship. It was the "working hard" bit that got me, along with thinking that there were more important things in my thirteen year old world than figuring out where I was going to college.

I went to a high school with a population that hovered around 4,000 students. By the time I was looking for college, the notion of a university with 40,000 students was wholly unappealing.

So I started looking at Texas's third-tier colleges. I still didn't know what I wanted to do, but I was leaning towards teaching and Stephen F. Austin and Southwest Texas both had good teaching programs, so I started looking in to those. As I started settling in with the family's brand-spanking-new ACER 486/50 computer, I started developing an unfortunate affection for technology that lead me to start thinking that maybe I'd prefer do that as well.

Dad took me to see the SFA campus, which I thought was nice. I also went to see a college up near Waco called Texas State Technical Institute which had good two-year degree programs. I liked the campus just fine and the computer nerds and hippies there seemed right up my alley, but once I determined that my high school was actually bigger than that college, I started to rethink my "small school" idea and started looking at bigger universities.

It was just as well. Once I became more interested in pursuing a technology-related matter, I discovered that big universities were better in that regard anyway. There was some question as to whether or not I'd be able to get in to UT or A&M, so I looked at other big universities, too.

An entire family of family friends had gone to Texas Tech, which had made its way towards the top of the list. I also had a good friend who was trying to convince me to go to Louisiana State University. It was out-of-state, but the tuitions were dirt-low to the point that it didn't really even cost that much more to go there.

I'd remembered what Mom said about having to justify paying more so I looked heavily into LSU's computer programs and found them lacking (they had a CS major and MIS specialty). Luckily, sort-of, Texas Tech's was lacking even more (all they had that I could find was MIS).

About the same time, I was becoming friends with a guy I'd met off ACME BBS named Adam. Adam was a more academically accomplished fellow than I was and he'd chosen to go to the University of Houston.

I'd never really considered UH for a number of reasons. First of all, I knew practically nothing about it. Second of all, it had a reputation for being academically forgiving to the point that it had earned the nickname "Cougar High."

So I found it interesting that Adam had decided to take his good grades there.

Also around that time I met a girl named Anna during a summer job that I had. Anna struck me as quite intelligent at the get-go. It turned out that she was going to UH as well. They were both involved with the Honors College there.

The recruiters were hitting Clear Lake pretty hard and the UH rep was really good. Unlike Texas and A&M, he didn't require an auditorium and I was able to ask him several questions. When he explained that there was an entire college at UT dedicated to technology, I was just about sold. When I saw the wonderful campus (which I'd wrongly imagined being kind of dingy), I was only going through the motions with the other universities.

I applied at Texas A&M to see if I could get in and was put on the deferred list for a semester. I didn't bother applying at Texas Tech because they had strict numerical criteria which I just barely passed. LSU was out of the running since UH could offer everything it could and then some.

Of course, I'd be lying if I didn't mention that there were other factors. First of all, that co-worker named Anna became my serious girlfriend. Secondly, I was really getting used to Houston and wasn't particularly thrilled at the prospect of leaving. UH was a good opportunity to get out of the house without going off to college. It was the best of both worlds.

There are times I wish I had more traditional university memories, which UH did not really provide. Yet because of its non-traditional demographics, it really offered the students many of the benefits of a smaller university. It wasn't hard to get involved with student government (which I didn't) or the school paper for instance (which I wrote for over three years). It also had the benefits of a larger university, with a Division I-A football team that twice came away with 7-4 records (the other seasons? We won't go there).

If I had it all to do over again, I'd still be a Cougar.

Greg is gloating over UT's request to put caps on Bush's ten percent plan. If you're giddy at the prospect of painting Bush's governorship a failure, I can see why this might excite you.

While my views on affirmative action are conflicting and uncertain, I have no such qualms whatsoever with the 10% plan and UT's request changes my mind little.

I say "go ahead and lock UT and A&M up with ten percenters." Just because the big boys don't like it doesn't mean that they're right. In regards to their own interest, they might well be, but their interests don't trump everyone else's, from my point of view.

Critics of the plan from both the left and the right quip that it's merely affirmative action by another name. UT wishes to be released of this so that they can go back to some sort of AA function, which provides liberals with a temporary victory and conservatives an issue.

But there is a key difference between the two. One takes into account the student's background and the other pays more attention to its race. Ideally, under affirmative action colleges would be able to look at each of applicants and get an individual sense of what they have to offer, but that's not the case because there are so many applications that the big boys have to go through. The result was that two kids with near the exact same education bonafides that went to the same school will have two different standards of admission.

The Ten Percent rule circumvents this to a degree and picks up diversity by way of geographic diversity. Poor inner city high schools will get the same "quota" as those in the suburbs will. Because of the de facto segregation of schools, this creates racial diversity as well as geographic.

This is also used as an attack on the system: it depends on segregation to be effective. Well yeah, but if the schools weren't as segregated as they are, neither affirmative action nor the ten percent rule would be necessary. The Ten Percent Rule accepts two realities that affirmative action and complete lack thereof do not: College admissions at big universities are necessarily shallow in their admissions methods and the general backgrounds of different races create trends that keep people segregated.

The Ten Percent Rule prevents colleges from just looking for black and Hispanic slots to fill (might be a reason why they want it to go away) while boosting (albeit not as much as affirmative action) minority numbers and providing a way out for those who come from crummy schools.

It's obviously imperfect. Some kids transfer to poor schools for their last semester or two in order to get into UT or A&M. It also puts some people that aren't prepared for the more rigorous public universities in above their heads. I'm not against revisiting the policy to correct these problems (perhaps making them have been a student at the high school for two years or having some sort of remedial program to prepare them for the big colleges), but I'm not thrilled to throw the baby out with the bathwater.

There are also benefits beyond diversity that are often painted as drawbacks. Because of the Ten Percent Rule and increasing population in the state, non-"Tier I" universities are becoming exponentially more competitive. Just a few months ago I heard a phrase I never thought I'd here from someone that went to a good high school and graduated in the top third of her class:

"I wanted to go to the University of Houston, but I couldn't get in."

When I was applying for colleges, the University of Houston was a gimme. I almost didn't go there for that reason. Luckily, I knew some people in the honors program that changed my perspective on the school. If my friend's experiences are any indication, I wouldn't be able to get in.

It's not just UH. By the time I graduated, Texas Tech (which was supposed to be a gimme as well) was only barely within my grasp. Today the third most applied to university is Southwest Texas State University. As applications come through, they too will become more competitive.

The more competitive these universities become, the less "ghetto" that the University of Houston becomes, the more their degrees will mean. The more people that graduate from there, the more alumni donations they'll get.

Affirmative Action and the Ten Percent Rule are mostly pushing the numbers around, but the primary concern I have is whom it's pushing where. The beneficiaries of Affirmative Action or suburban and upper middle-class minorities and the losers are poor whites. The beneficiaries of the Ten Percent Rule are the best and the brightest from poor schools, regardless of color. The losers are kids that go to well-off high schools.

I much prefer the latter set of winners and losers to the former, even though I'm the exact type of person that's losing from the deal.

But people like me that can't get in to UT (I might have been able to when I graduated, there's no way I could now) will end up going somewhere else. That will raise the requirements and make the schools considerably more competitive (or competitive at all).

It's the type of people that wanted to go to UT that would most likely exhibit the kind of school spirit to boost athletic programs, which raise the school's profile. Additionally, they're the type that donates to the school when they graduate and bring in more money.

At the end of the day, UT & A&M will always be the premier (public) schools in Texas. Ten Percent Rule, no Ten Percent Rule, affirmative action or no, that will remain the case. To that extent, Greg and Charles are both right insofar as the state needs to start planning to have more than two premier schools. Florida has at least three, California has a handful, and it's time that Texas step up to the plate.

Though it pains to me admit it, I don't believe the University of Houston is a logical beneficiary due to geography among other reasons. Taking Texas Tech the last ten yards would be a good start and other collegetown teams (SWTSU in San Marcos, UNT in Denton, and possibly UTEP for some more geographical balance). Regardless, for a state our size, we need at least one more heavy hitter.

Something tells me that Stacey Pressman is going to get a lot of marriage proposals this week.

Frankly, I'm done with the back-and-crack-waxing-salon-spa guy. Does America really need to see all of this "manscaping?" What's wrong with a good old-fashioned manly man? One who doesn't know the difference between mauve and taupe, and who won't refer to his wardrobe as "couture." Heck, I'll take him color-blind.

To me, there is something endearing about a man with wrinkled khakis, the kind that signifies, "I'm not too perfect." You boys can have your Armani and Gucci man boutiques. You can strive for overpriced perfection. I'll find the Armani guy. Only he'll be on a TJ Maxx rack with a tag dangling off him that reads "slightly irregular." Any savvy shopper knows there's nothing wrong with a faint quirk. It's called a good deal.

A fashionably clueless man needs me to tell him that his paisley tie with the ketchup stain might look better on him than the Garcia tie with the barbeque sauce. It creates levity in a relationship. And those dreaded nose hairs, don't worry, I'll get them. Fab 5, leave him alone, I'll work on him. He's my project. Don't you know that's part of the fun for some of us women?

When I was on the football team in junior high, we had to dress up the day of our home games. Dress shirt, tie, the works. I really didn't know how to do a tie and so naturally, it was lopsided and goofy looking.

There was a girl in my social studies class. I don't remember much about her other than that she was generally quiet and ran with the troublemakers. Some kid was making fun of my inept tie configuration when she walked up to me, unfurled the tie and retied it correctly.

I fell in love with her on the spot.

I got to the Firehouse at about 9 just in case there were problems with parking. As it turned out, there weren't a whole lot of people there, but it was a good thing that I arrived early because it wasn't 10 before No Justice, the opening act, took the stage.

The evening started off on the right foot. The bartender spotted me a beer, which is rare but happens from time to time. Even better, I didn't have to wait in line for it. I was on the phone leaving a message for Kevin and Callie when he just walked out and handed it to me. Man, I love that bar.

It was a predominantly young crowd. TGD tends to attract younger audience so it wasn't a surprise, though it was quite welcome. It was also predominantly female (3-2 ratio, possibly 2-1) and most of them were concentrated in one area. I came to call them The Pack. It was not only predominantly female, but there were actually a number of girls that I would consider "my type." Generally, at the Firehouse, it's wall-to-wall girls who ain't my type, but I woulda been sittin' in tall cotton if I were in the relationship market.

I've heard a lot about No Justice over the last several months. They're supposed to be The Next Big Thing out of Oklahoma according to Great Divide bandmembers and fans. I bought their CD a month or two back in anticipation for the show and found it to be good, though not great (I gave it a solid B). I got the impression that they were probably a better live band and boy was I right!

I was playing pool when they first got on the stage. I thought that it was the bar music, though I thought it was odd that Jack (the audio guy) would have a copy of a live No Justice song when it was their first stint at the Firehouse and (I'm pretty sure) in Houston. Okay, okay, so I'm a little dim. But it goes to show the tightness of the band. Until I heard the sounds of an audience, I thought it was the studio recording.

They played most of my favorite songs from the CD including The Toast, which I didn't think they would (it's a slower song). The lead singer's voice is quite booming and in contrast to the slightly restrained sound on the studio recording It's not unusual in the Texas music industry for that to be the case, but usually the restrained voice on a CD hurts the CD whereas with NJ it didn't hurt the CD as much as the difference made No Justice one of the best new live acts I've seen in a while. There were three Steve Earle cover songs, which is a bit much, but that's my only complaint with their setlist. There also played Rolling Stones's Dead Flowers and a couple covers I was unfamiliar with (I love it when acts introduce me to good music).

The night took a bit of a foul turn when a certain romantic figure from my past showed up, but she left about the time that TGD took the stage. I figured it'd take me a few songs before I started loosening up. But the New Great Divide hit the ground running with some great TGD classics.

On the second song, I'd kinda wished that Lisa had stuck around as a young lady in The Pack walked over and asked me to dance. Tragically (for her, not me), I am a pretty pathetic dancer. She had no idea what she was getting herself in to, but she was a sport nonetheless. I only wish Lisa had been there out of petty spite. Yeah, yeah, that's me. Petty and spiteful. Regardless of my dancing ineptitude, it was flattering to be asked.

Micah Ailes is the new lead singer, replacing the Mike McClure who in many ways carried the band. I wasn't sure what to expect as I didn't know much of Ailes and hadn't heard their new sound. As it turns out, Ailes has a spectacular McClure-type voice when he wants it. There were literally points during some of the McClure songs where I could have closed my eyes and I'd have thought that it was McClure singing them. Much to my surprise, though, when he got to the first non-TGD song (a Chris Knight cover) his voice sounded quite different. Analogous to Scott Melott's voice, but with a little more heft.

A little bit later, I struck up a conversation with Not Blake (or perhaps he struck up a conversation with me) about the lead singer. We were both impressed and agreed mightily that if he could write good songs, TGD would be better than ever. Not Blake had apparently come down from Ohio (where Ailes is from) to see the band play. I asked him about Ailes's other band, but he said he'd never heard them play. Apparently, he is a former Texas who got into TGD down here before relocating to the hell we call Cleveland.

After about the fifth song or so, the band announced it was someone's birthday and lo' and behold, probably the cutest girl from The Pack, The Birthday Girl, was wished a personal happy birthday by the band and the drummer kissed her hand (oooh, ahhh, the drummer! Actually, with McClure gone, the drummer seems to be the functional leader of the band). So it was apparently a birthday party that had attracted all the ladies and a few guys. One of them, I assumed her boyfriend, went apespit and pulled her away from the stage to "talk to her" or something. He was quite apparently jealous or something.

The next part of the show was eye-opening for a couple of reasons. First of all, Scotte Lester, the lead guitarist and occasional lead vocalist, sang a couple songs that had long been nixed from the TGD play list. McClure really dominated the shows during his era and Scotte would only get to play one song. That, thankfully, was one of the things that they changed.

The second thing they did was set up five benches and sit in a row to do a few accoustic tracks. Rather than the slow accoustic tracks that I am accustomed to whenever a stool is pulled out, they sang rockin' classics like "Can't You See." Even better, everyone got to sing. As I mentioned, McClure often dominated the band to the point that it was practically Mike McClure and the Great Divide (and was thus little surprise when he went out on his own). Given that McClure is as talented as he is, I never really knew what I was missing with the feel of a truly unified band as they were that night. It wasn't Micah Ailes and The Great Divide, it was just The Great Divide. I look forward to seeing McClure's solo shows, but I think I like TGD better this way.

As the show progressed, Micah started singing more than a couple original tunes. They were quite good. "This is gonna work," Not Blake told me. I nodded.

Birthday Girl and Dragonheart (the boy that pulled her away from the stage earlier) were dancing up a storm. In fact, everyone was dancing (Except me. They'd seen enough to not ask me to dance) and having a great time. I'd only had a couple beers by that point, but the sheer energy eminating from the room was enough to intesify the carefree feeling I so often get at these shows (and that keep me going to them). Everyone was there to have a great time and you can't ask for much more than that.

The band took a timeout between songs in order to remind everyone that they had CDs for sale and that anyone interested needed to go talk to Blake at the stand. "Wave Blake!" Micah said. "Now everyone wave to Blake!"

I turned around to wave at Blake, who I'd talked to earlier when I was mulling over buying a TGD shirt. Not Blake was standing right next to him. He'd had a lot more to drink than I, so he felt compelled to walk over and inform me, "Hey man, I'm Not Blake. That guy over there is Blake." I told him that I knew it, but he stared at me kinda blankly. The band started playing again and we were bopping up and down and singing along.

In addition to the theatre on stage, there was some off as well. A few songs later, a frat-looking boy made the mistake of trying to cut in on Birthday Girl and Dragonheart. Birthday Girl'd had quite a bit to drink and was kinda oblivious to it. When Dragonheart pulled Frat Boy away, they were dancing once more. With the theatre off the stage done, I could enjoy the band again, which I dutifully did.

TGD was hitting all the high notes. Micah was doing a great job of reproducing McClure's material in close to its original sound, but putting a lot of heart in it to take it the extra few yards. Ailes truly wanted to be there and that's as energizing for the audience as it is for the performers.

As the show started drawing to a close, they started singing some of their classics. The most prominant (okay, I'm biased because it's my favorite) was "Yesterday Road", during which Birthday Girl actually invited me up to dance before being rescued by her friends.

"You was robbed!" Not Blake exclaimed.

"I was robbed!" I agreed.

Not that I really cared. There seemed to be a lot of drama going on in The Pack. Besides, I was free to finish my cigarette (unlike before, when I had to put the poor thing out), listen to the music, watch the band, and watch everything else going on. So I really didn't care. But I was robbed.

Not long after Birthday Girl and Frat Boy were dancing with each other. After the song ended they went over to a front table and preceeded to make out. The Pack came to her rescue, but Frat Boy went with them and they were making out again in no time.

No Justice went up there to sing "Used to Be" (another classic) with them in one of the closing songs of the night. I spent half the song bopping to the music and the other half avoiding Birthday Girl and Frat Boy, who'd gone back to dancing again, as well as Not Blake, who could barely stand up straight. Birthday Girl was rescued once more by her friends before the song reached an end.

There wasn't an encore and I wanted to get out before I was tempted to buy something I couldn't afford, so I sped to the bar to pay my tab. Five beers?! I drank five beers?!?! I was trying to cut back, but somehow I'd drank five beers! Come to think of it, that's probably why I was accidentally but a Bic lighter in my mouth and started flicking at my cigarette.

I said goodbye to Not Blake and headed for the door. On my way out I could see Birthday Girl in the corner of my eye. She was slumped over and barely standing straight. She'd obviously come down and was in for a rough night and a rougher morning.

Five beers?! I hadn't eaten much of anything. I was in for a rough night and morning, too.

There are boys who woke up with headaches
There are girls who are ashamed
There'll be parents full of questions
But there's always friends to blame.
-The Great Divide, "Yesterday Road"

Michael Williams has an interesting hypothetical question about friends and lovers:

Suppose Boy A and Boy B are friends, and both like Girl A. Girl A likes Boy A, but doesn't like Boy B. Boy A wants to go out with Girl A.

1. Does Boy A need Boy B's permission to go out with Girl A? Do the facts that Boys A and B are friends, and that Boy B likes Girl A imply that if Boy A is a "real friend" he won't go out with Girl A without first asking Boy B?

2. Suppose Boy A does ask for Boy B's permission, but Boy B refuses. Can Boy A then go out with Girl A, or would doing so prove that he isn't a "real friend" to Boy B?

The consensus seems to be that Boy A should tell Boy B what he's going to do, but that's it.

I seem to be the lone dissenter.

It is my position that, absent extenuating circumstances, Boy A (I'll call him Alvin) should in fact seek Boy B's (Bobby's) blessing before going after Girl A (Ann).

There are a few caveats. First, If Bobby hasn't told Alvin that he likes her until after Alvin declares his interest, then it's Bobby's problem (exception to the exception: If Alvin is only marginally interested but Bobby worships the girl). If Alvin feels so smitten that he's going to marry Ann, then he's free to do whatever, though he'd need to understand that there's a chance it would cost him the friendship.

Why? Because friendship is more important than a girlfriend (or boyfriend). If you know that you're going to seriously hurt your friend by pursuing a particular girl, it does say something about the seriousness to which you hold the friendship. You can talk all day about how Bobby shouldn't feel that way, but if Bobby is heartbroken, you're agitating the wound.

I come at this by two tangental hypotheticals that I've pondered. The first is an ex. Let's say we're dealing with Girl B (Bonnie) who use to date Bobby but now is interested in Alvin and vice-versa. Despite Alvin and Bonnie's mutual interest, he is hurting Bobby by pursuing the relationship and when possible, friends shouldn't hurt friends (exception: if Bobby dumped Bonnie cold, then he's hard-pressed to be able to object, though if it was a long and painful affair, it could still apply).

The second tangental hypothetical is if Bobby is dating Girl C (Cynthia) and Alvin and Cynthia fall in love, it would be a betrayal of the friendship for Alvin to carry on an affair with Cynthia (even if Bobby and Cynthia aren't married and there is no sex involved between any of them). If Cynthia offers to leave Bobby for Alvin, Alvin should refuse.

Why? Because Alvin cannot realistically expect Bobby to be a good friend to someone who stole his girlfriend (regardless of the specifics, that's how Bobby is gonna see it). The logical extention of that is that if Alvin is seeing someone that causes Bobby great pain, he is harming the friendship. The notion that Bobby should just not feel hurt when he sees the girl of his dreams holding hands with his best friend is not tenable.

Now, that being said, except in the most extreme cases, I believe that it is incumbent upon Bobby to lend his blessings on Alvin's pursuit (at least to Ann and Bonnie, Cynthia is probably automatically extreme). If he fails to do so, then it is he that is causing his friend grief for selfish reasons. If it's a girl that he only casually likes and therefore isn't really of much consequence other than perhaps rivalry or a bruised ego, then he needs to be a man about it and realize that he lost.

If he abuses this 'veto' power, then I would fully expect (and endorse) Alvin revoking it. The only justified reason that Bobby should refuse is if it makes him physically ill or so hurt that he could not face either of them. In which case, the 'veto' is more of a warning than anything else (on a side note, I had a friend who was going to date someone that I hated passionately. I had to make the decision to either warn him that it would hurt our friendship or let it progress and just pull away from him if he succeeded. Luckily for me, things didn't work out).

At any point, Alvin is free to disregard Bobby's veto and probably should if his affection for Ann (or Bonnie or maybe even possibly Cynthia) is such that he's thinking the rest of his life. If he thinks it's a fling or is very uncertain, risking a friendship in favor of a romance is a fool's wager.

As for Michael's answer and rationale:

My own position is that if Girl A likes Boy A rather than Boy B, then Boy B will just have to deal with it. His feelings may be hurt, but if he were to interfere in Boy A's relationship with Girl A, then Boy B would be the one who wasn't being a "real friend".

Furthermore, if Boy A is required to ask Boy B for permission to go out with Girl A, I think that shows a profound lack of respect for Girl A, on both the boys' parts. Girl A has made her decision, and she likes Boy A. For the boys to have some sort of external negotiations over her based on their own relatinship reduces Girl A to a commodity, a mere object.

I can understand that Boy A would be concerned for his friend's feelings, but Boy B has no claim on Girl A. If Boy A restricts his involvement with Girl A based on the desires of Boy B, doesn't that dehumanize Girl A?

Yes and no. I agree that Boy B (Bobby) is not being a good friend except in extenuating circumstances and if Bobby's attachment isn't severe, he should sacrifice his quitclaim rights immediately.

However, whether or not Bobby goes out with Girl A (Ann) is not only her choice, but also his. Therefore, in my mind, his relenting for the sake of his friendship is the equivalent of saying "I would be interested, but I'm not because of outside circumstances." As outside circumstances interfere with would-be relationships all the time, I don't consider her being deprived of any rights as she has no "right" to date Boy A (Alvin).

It would only be objectification if she were somehow forced to date Bobby against her will, but that's not the case (on the contrary, if she knew the rationale behind it, she'd likely hate Bobby with a passion). She is simply denied the opportunity to be with someone that she wants. So's Bobby and so are hundreds of thousands of people every day for reasons out of their control.

Netscape.com has a He Said / She Said feature in which I guess they regularly tackle intergenderal dating issues. The one tonight is about asking your partner how many partners they've had.

Both sides agree that it's not a good idea to get too specific about it. I've never asked and have only been asked once after the relationship had ended.

Dad told me once that there was a Native American tribe that only counted none, one, two, and many. I think that's about the right way of going about it.

"How many partners have you had, Jerry?"

"In the words of my Indian ancestors, many, but before you slap me that only means more than two."

"That's not an answer..."

"Sure it is. I will do my ancestors honor by using their numbering system for the question and only their numbering system."

[SLAP]

Or maybe not.

The whole subject also reminds me of Kevin Smith's Clerks when the main character goes berzerk when he discovers how many men his girlfriend has performed felatio on. Makes me curious how a guy would respond if informed their girlfriend specified some exact number over fifty.

"Are you upset?" she asks.

"No... no, I just need you to do something for me."

"What's that?"

"Hold on," he says as he scans his bookshelf. "Here you go."

"Why are you giving me a copy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy?"

"I really, really, REALLY need you to read this three times this year for me."

Bababeesh.

CRAP!

Errr... I mean... congratulations, Dub!

At first I was sure that it wasn't her. She hated country music and at one point commented that she wasn't sure if she could like someone that thought that country music was quality material because they obviously lacked judgment. I laughed because I thought she was joking. She might have been, but she didn't even crack a smile.

She bought me a Shiner Bock beer. At first I thought she was a waitress or something and I started to say that I didn't order one. When I saw her standing there, the awkwardness was immediate. Not necessarily because I hadn't talked to her in a couple months or that I threatened a restraining order if she showed up at my apartment, but because I knew that she hated country music and "everything it stands for" and seeing her at the Firehouse, Houston's premier venue for country artists, was something of a jolt to the system.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I came to watch The Great Divide. My ex-boyfriend said they're really good," she explained as she watched the opening act play. "He was right."

"This isn't The Great Divide. This is No Justice. They're the opening act."

"Oh, well they're really good."

"Except that you hate anything resembling country music."

"I like (Steve Earle's) Copperhead Road. Remember?"

"Right. Look, I'm trying to watch the show and I'd rather not talk through it."

To my surprise, she actually didn't and I was able to enjoy the remaining three songs in relative peace. When they got off the stage, I hoped the TGD would get on lickity-split.

"So, that I'm here... does that surprise you?" she asked.

I was so tired of that question. She seemed to ask it over and over again when we were together and during our weekly conversations after it ended. I almost said 'not really' out of instinct, but for once she did surprise me. "Yeah."

"Would it surprise you if I told you that I've been coming here for two weeks to see you?"

"Yeah, it would, because you haven't."

"Come again?"

"Last Friday night, 1100 Springs played and I can say with some certainty that you weren't there. It wasn't a crowded show. I would have noticed."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I was."

"Whatever," I replied.

"So are you going to ask me?"

"Ask you what?"

"Ask me why I've been coming to the Firehouse to see you?"

"Oh, well I figured that it was because you found a whole new appreciation for Texas country and Americana music. You mean I was wrong?!"

"Oh, please. It's mysogynist, inbred, neoconfederate bullshit. I came to see you," she informed me. I started walking towards the door. "Where are you going?"

"Outside."

"Why?"

"You'll... you'll just have to excuse me. The shock that you came here to see me is just sooo much that I need a breath of fresh air."

"Alex, come back here."

"Nope, I'm going outside."

"It's raining."

"You mean you're not going to follow me? Sweet!"

"Alex, I'm serious. I'm going to get sick if I go out there."

"Then don't come out."

She did anyway. "So aren't you the least bit curious why I've been coming here?"

"Not really. I told you I wouldn't take your phone calls, reply to your IMs, and that if you stopped by my apartment I'd call the police. I guess you found another way to slip through the cracks."

"Can we go in? The rain is really bothering me."

"Go in if you want. I like the rain."

"Fine. Well look, I came here to tell you that I'm over you."

I started laughing. "You've been stalking me for two weeks just so you can let me know that you're over me?"

"Not stalking. Like you said, I couldn't call you or see you, so this was the only way I could track you down."

"You tell me that you're over me," I get out between chuckles.

"Well what did you want me to do?"

"Who cares what I want. You're over me, remember?" I answered. She didn't reply. "I figured that if you were over me, you wouldn't feel the need to track me down and tell me."

"Well I've been over you for a while. Really I have been since you dumped me."

"Aaaaaaah," I replied with a mock-yell. "This is why I stopped talking to you. All you do is talk around in circles, never actually going anywhere except blaming me for all your problems and telling me that I never meant a thing to you in regular alternation."

"Huh?"

"If you've been over me since we broke up, then why won't you get on with your life?"

"I have."

"As evidenced by the fact that you're stalking me. Unless... wait... have you met someone?" I asked. My fingers crossed in between our faces.

"I don't need anyone."

"Whatever! What do you want from me? Just tell me what you want from me that you can take with you and leave me be? If you've been over me, then why are you here? Before you said that you were here to tell me that you're over me."

"Right. I came to tell you. Not because I am."

"Because you're not."

"God, you're arrogant. Is it so impossible to believe that I've gotten on with my life?"

"While you're standing here, getting sick in the rain, in a venue that plays music that loathe, and have been allegedly coming to for the past two weeks?"

"You're twisting my words."

"Not your words, sweetheart, your actions! Look, if you wanted to tell me that you're over me, great. You gonna go now?"

"Well that's not why I'm here."

"Aaaaaahhhhhh! Well, while you have arguments in your head about why you're here, I'm going to go over there to keep an eye on the band so I can go back inside when they started."

"I'm here to ask you if you've gotten over me."

"I, uhh... heh... what?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"Only because it makes no sense! When have I ever given the impression that I haven't moved on?"

"Well, you're still single, aren't you?"

"No comment."

"It's been what, six months? You still haven't found anyone? Sounds awfully curious to me."

"This is in contrast to that girl I met in Austin, when you suspected that I was only interested in her because I wasn't over here... and the girl in Dallas. So whether I date or not, it's because of you... and I'm the arrogant one here?"

"You can't deny that it was a bit soon after our breakup that you wanted to date again."

"I... ehhhh... I... mmmmmh... errrr... I.... it was soon."

"See?"

"Only because you never meant much of anything to me," I told her. There wasn't much else I could really say.

"I think I should go now."

"Yeah."

The Dixie Chicks have announced that country musicians are meanie-poos and they're going to find some new friends they are leaving country music behind and are going to pursue a rock & roll sound.

Makes sense, after all, nothing screams "rock and roll band" like the name Dixie Chicks.

But I digress. I can't say that this surprises me all that much except in timing. I've always felt that one way or another, Natalie Maines was going to go pop. Despite the upbringing of her Texas county music legend father Lloyd Maines, country music has never been her thing.

I also figured that the band itself would start moving to a more money-making less genred sound, but I figured they'd do it in the vein of Shania Twain of Faith Hill, who've both managed to become pop successes while maintaining the loyalty of most country music fans. They've done so largely by a tactic of deny, deny, deny, accept, then explain that good music comes in all shapes and sizes.

So on one hand, kudos to the Chicks for being honest about their intentions. It's also a bit gutsy when you consider that a banjo and fiddle are not typical in rock (Blue October notwithstanding).

Of course, their rationale is about as lamebrained as their sense of appropriateness:

Violinist Martie Maguire told Spiegel magazine: "We don't feel part of the country scene any longer, it can't be our home any more."

She said she was disappointed other country singers didn't back up the Dixie Chicks in their criticism of George W Bush's politics on Iraq.

"A few weeks ago, Merle Haggard said a couple of nice words about us, but that was it," Maguire complained.

"The support we got came from others, like Bruce Springsteen."

Going home empty-handed from the Country Awards ceremony also made them decide to break with the scene, Maguire said.

"Instead, we won three Grammys against much stronger competition.

"So we now consider ourselves part of the big Rock 'n' Roll family."

That's the equivalent of saying "Y'all [sorry, 'you all' in non-country speak] are mean! We're gonna go find new friends!"

On the other hand, they really were dragged through the mud by other country singers and the complaint could be considered valid to some degree. Toby Keith has had an ongoing "feud" with them predating the remarks, Mark Chestnutt and Brooks and Dunn both made disparaging remarks at the Houston Rodeo.

That said, they were not exactly supportive of Toby Keith's own political statement ("It's ignorant, and it makes country music sound ignorant. It targets an entire culture - and not just the bad people who did bad things. You've got to have some tact." she said weeks before she said she was ashamed of the President on foreign soil) and it's a bit unrealist to expect fellow musicians to take a bullet flung by their common fan base. If you're gonna dish it out, you gotta be able to take it.

Or you can do as they are and take your ball and go home.

The unfortunate thing is that unlike Kevin and Scott, I do like the Dixie Chicks music. They are (were) one of my more favored Nashville acts. Natalie's got a great singing voice and while they're song-leaches (ie don't write their own material), they tend to have pretty good taste in songs. They also bought a more unique sound to a bland town that very much needed it.

But they seem to have an air of superiority that doesn't fly in country music (unless you have Shania Twain's figure) and a sense of cultural elitism aimed at the very fans that propelled them to stardom. Tragic, but inevitable.

For those of you wondering where I stand on the mayoral race, it can pretty much be summed up as "Anybody But Turner."

I would rather Bill White, Orlando Sanchez, Michael Berry, and even Raymond Hans Rodriguez win than Turner so much so that I really don't care which one of them wins, as long as his name ain't Turner.

Michael Berry has just dropped out of the race, which is ostensibly good for fellow Republican Orlando Sanchez. However, I maintain that Sanchez isn't the real beneficiary - Sylvester Turner is.

I believe that a year from now we will have a Mayor Turner or a Mayor White, not a Mayor Sanchez. Sanchez's campaign thus far has been lackluster to the point that many supporters are disinchanted with him. To win a race in Houston, if it's even possible, a Republican has no margin of error. Sanchez has demonstrated pretty clearly to me that he is not a flawless candidate (neither are White or Turner, of course, but they're Democrats. They don't have to be).

So considering it to be a two-way race, you start running through scenarios in which candidates will make the runoff. That would be Turner, White, or Sanchez. If White makes the runoff, I'm certain that the election is his whether his opponent is Turner or Sanchez. The key, of course, is getting there in the first place. If he fails to, it will be Turner against Sanchez, and I would take 10-1 odds on Turner carrying the day.

This lead to an interesting alignment of political interests. There is essentially the White camp and the Turner camp. Orlando Sanchez is the only way that Turner can win the election, so Sanchez is firmly in the Turner camp. In the same vein, Republican Michael Berry has always been in the White camp because he is taking votes away from Sanchez, preventing Sanchez from getting into the runoff and allowing White to make it to the runoff he'll undoubtedly win. Rodriguez, to the extent that he has any influence at all, would hurt Orlando Sanchez and therefore Sylvester Turner and therefore would be in the White camp.

So now that Michael Berry has dropped out, what does that mean? Since Berry was in the White camp, Bill White is the one most hurt by this. Berry's votes will swing towards Sanchez and propel him at least temporarily past White (In the much-lauded White-leading poll, Sanchez + Berry votes far surpass White's lead).

Of course, this could concievably be bad for Turner because it could bump him out of the runoff. In the end, though, any runoff including White will be lost by whomever the other guy is. I'm also inclined to believe that he is a lock to make the runoff in the first place.

So, a quick review:
Winners:
Michael Berry - He's saved his own political hyde. A lot of people had a lot of homes for him before he launched his quixotic mayoral bid at a point too soon in his political career. Now everyone at least knows who he is, he's got at least four more years he can serve on council, and some suggest that he might be the beneficiary of a new congressional district.
Sylvester Turner - It was starting to look pretty bad for Turner because it looked like he was going to have to face off against White and lose. However, this puts Orlando Sanchez back into the runoff hunt and returns Turner as the man most likely to be our next mayor.
Orlando Sanchez - It would be the end of Sanchez's political career if he failed to make the runoff. I'm not sure what he would do if he makes it and loses, but I'd imagine that he'll be in a much better place. There's also the relatively small chance that he could win, but I doubt it.

Losers:
Bill White - White's primary competition right now is Orlando Sanchez. He needs to pass Sanchez in order to face Turner in the general election and this has made it that much more difficult. White comes from a long line of moderate white Democratic politicians that have been losing since the Lanier mayorality.
George W. Bush - There are rumors that Bush encouraged Berry to get out. Not sure if they're true, but Bush intervened on Sanchez's behalf in 2001 and there's no reason to think that he won't again in 2003. Although it's minor, I think Bush will face embarassment when Sanchez loses the runoff.

[via Matt Moore]

The Unsexy List:

5. Lord of the Rings. The movies are fine, but did you know that if you read the trilogy three times in a year you actually get your virginity back?

[...]

9. Livejournal. How I'm feeling: bored. Song stuck in my head: "Raspberry Beret." Air of mystery that once surrounded me: gone.

10. Star diets. Has anyone seen the other half of Beyonce Knowles, Kate Winslet, or Christina Ricci? 'Cause it left with all the good parts.

11. Drinks with "sexy" names. Bar patrons who order a "screaming orgasm," "sex on the beach," "blow job," or "long slow screw against the wall" are 77% less likely to get laid than the ones drinking beer. Wonder why.

[..]

36. Employment. People always talk about "becoming their job," which is the most heinous thing ever.

The best thing about this list is that I know I'm sexy because I didn't even know what half of these things are!

When I was a younger lad, I knew this girl named Heather Pritchard. She was nothing to write home about it. She was pretty chunky, mean as an ox, and curiously and unbelievably somewhat popular.

I never really understood it. She wasn't even mean in a charismatic way. She was mean in a just plain mean way. She thought she was better than everyone except her friends, but somehow she ran with the "in" crowd and always had a lot of people around her (rarely boys, though).

When I was in high school, there was a girl named Becki Eisenreich. Becki's date to the prom (who was nothing to brag about and beneath the generally affable Becki) was unceremoniously arrested. Though he got out in time to go to prom, she had to scramble for a date at the last minute. I don't know if she succeeded or not.

Then of course, there was my high school friend Oz. Oz was a self-centered, racist, uncharismatic oaf. When it came time for prom, he never did get a date. He ended up watching rentals with his parents that night.

I mention Oz, Becki, and Heather because they all tight in to a particular way I've been feeling lately.

I've been unemployed for nearly five months now. All this time, there's been an employer that I was pretty sure would hire me. "What?" you ask, "You mean you weren't serious about finding work?"

To the contrary. The reason that I am pretty sure that they'd hire me is that they always have a deficit of employees. They always have a deficit of employees because they scare them off like an old lady in a witch hat does preschoolers.

To say that they're anal is an understatement. Though I've not gone in to it, I've worked for odd people before. This is a category unto itself, though. Gattaca monitors just about everything you do. Every four months you have to do an in-depth self-appraisal and if your appraisal is insufficient, you will be canned.

It's as steril as the IMF headquarters in the Mission Impossible movie.

They're somewhat well known in the IT industry. In fact, my roommate, my former roommate, my former roommate's roommate (and I think his other roommate too) have all at least applied for work there (my roommate presently does, my former roommate used to). It single-handedly convinced my roommate to go back to college and my former roommate was aching for something - anything! - else after just a few weeks.

Here's the thing, though: They pay. They pay well. I need something that pays well, if only for a little while.

So I decided to apply for a job with Gattaca. My roommate turned in a referral (to give you an idea of how desperate they are for warm bodies, they give him $1500 if I work there for over four months) and then... nothing. I call them back and ask the status, they say they'll call me and then... nothing.

I don't feel rejected or anything. It took them a whopping 5 interviews and six weeks to hire my roommate. But when I talked to my roommate JD about it, he said that I'd have to pester them.

So I would have to beg for a job I have absolutely no excitement for with a company that will make me miserable.

That's what got me thinking about Becki, Heather, and Oz. The only analogy I could come up with was putting myself in Becki's shoes, where you have high standards (which she did) but because of a certain situation, she had to lower them drastically to find someone. Then I think of Oz, who never lowered his expectation and watched videos on prom night.

Then I think of Heather.

I think of myself in Becki's shoes, scrambling for a date - any date! - and having to lower my expectations and taking back the guy who had a stint in jail or spending the night at home watching videos.

It feels like I've been dumped right before prom, and that I've got to find a date - any date! - to avoid digging into my savings when unemployment runs out. The only people I can get a job with is Gattaca, the only date I can get is the guy that went to jail. It feels like I'm reduced to asking Heather Bitchard, that annoying wench of a girl (and anyone that knows me knows I don't use those words loosely), to go to prom with me to avoid the fate of Oz.

But I did anyway. I applied.

But now I have to beg, which makes me feel like the hypothetical position where I ask a girl I loathe to prom... and she doesn't say yes and doesn't even say no.

"I'll go with you," she says. "But you have to beg."

I was rear-ended this evening. When I was hit, I motioned to pull off to the side when the light turned green and he acknowledged me. Except, of course, when I turned, he slammed on the gas and left me in the dust.

Minimal damage to the car. My neck is feeling pretty stiff, though.

Between the break-in and this, I think this town is trying to hasten my exit.

I've been listening to a lot of Frank Black over the last week or so. I found him on EMusic and next to Chuck Prophet, he's been the best find. He apparently tours with No-Lyfe Productions favorite They Might Be Giants and used to be the lead singer to a band called the Pixies (which I've also downloaded and not gotten a chance to listen to).

In an interesting coincidence, earlier today I linked to an article that spoke of a different Frank Black that is/was heading a group of vigilantes in Houston.

Okay, well Frank Black isn't that uncommon a name so it's not too big a coincidence, but it is kinda funny that I've just found the guy and Sugarmama links to a post about Black entering a Frank Black fan forum and the questions that erupted about his authenticity.

Humorous stuff, whether you care about Black or not.

First it was Terrifica in New York, standing up for vulnerable and jilted women everywhere!

Meanwhile, in my hometown of Houston, across the Freeway from where I used to live, the East End Vigilantes banded together to do the job that the police weren't.

Then it was The Man in the Brown Mask, working out of England.

And now... Angle Grinder Man, removing tire boots from the cars of "all good, decent law-unabiding people"

[Link via Pete's blog]

Not really, but when you frame it the way this USA Today article does, his administration comes off quite well. It's hard not to when you tell Microsoft to go to hell.

The SimDesk controversy has been hovering around the Bayou City for some time now. Honestly, I didn't know what it was about and didn't have any opinion on it. Basically, this company called SimDesk was given a lucrative contract from Houston to supply the office software for city and library computers. A lot of people raised a stink about how much it was going to cost to replace Microsoft Office, but apparently the city was being pressured into upgrading anyway and SimDesk was a hell of a lot cheaper than that would have been.

City dealing aside, this is yet another big example of Microsoft's arrogance in dealing with companies. They essentially participated in blackmail. They didn't say as much, but when you recieve a letter stating that you may or may not be audited for licenses and that it could cost you millions upon millions of dollars along with a brochure for their new licensing program, one can assume their participation in the new ($12 million) contract might have an impact as to whether or not they're going to get audited.

A few things to mention. First of all, Microsoft Office is a stellar program. Anyone who says otherwise is jaded by their hatred for the software company. It takes up a lot of resources, but there is so much you can do with it and every version has been better than the previous (Don't know about XP, though). That said, most people don't need it. Most people need to use the basic functions and could probably get by on Microsoft Works quite well. Except there's a catch. Microsoft Works (last I checked) can't save documents in Office formats (.doc, .xls, etc). The reason for this, of course, is so that people who only need Works will buy Office for compatibility's sake. There is no other plausible explanation when third party companies can save effortlessly in a Microsoft format and a Microsoft product can't.

For better or worse, Microsoft Office file formats are the standard. For better because at least there is a standard, but worse because they charge obscene amounts of money for the program (twice as much for Office as for the Windows Operating System). Between the 97-2K transfer they finally make their files forwards and backwards compatible except MS Access (which they do in 2K-XP), but then turn around and extort business and organizations to upgrade by threatening to audit.

Now, there is nothing wrong with auditing a company if they believe they are being short-changed. However, that should be done by an auditing department and the sales department should not be involved in that at all. The last thing that needs to happen is to have a sales rep warning them of an audit while making a sales pitch. That's beyond inappropriate. Not just inappropriate, it appears to be quite intentional. Microsoft could, if it so chose, audit 500 companies at random and probably 350 would come up wrong somewhere. Tracking software licensure is not an easy task. The bigger the organization, the harder it becomes. Who wants to take bets that Microsoft targets those that, like the City of Houston, don't sign on to its new program.

What's tragic, though, is that their new licensing service could be a beneficial service. It could help companies (who, for the most part, have no interest in ripping MS off) keep track of their licensing better and therefore be able to pay for outstanding licenses. But even when providing a new service, they simply cannot do so without their trademark arrogance. The intent is apparently not so much to help companies pay Microsoft what they are due, but apparently to pressure companies that upgrade every five years or so to do it every three, whether they need it or not, and whether their computers can handle it or not. Even when they have a situation (or licensing package) where everyone wins, they still can't stop being a bully.

How sad. And typical.

While I was on hold waiting for the TWC, I saw Che running around outside. "Uh oh," I thought.

I stepped outside to try to figure out what to do. Could he wait a few more minutes until I got my call in or did I need to forsake the 15 minutes I'd been waiting and track him down?

Well, a few seconds later, Buck called out to him. His name is now apparently Bo. Cool.

In any case, he's already grown more! I wasn't even sure it was him at first!

Okay, okay, I've had my puppy fix. Back to the real world...

I originally discovered the game through my friend Oz. It was, at the time, the most dynamic, realistic football game on the market. It had all twenty-eight teams with only a few well-known quarterbacks blotched out (Jim Kelly, Randall Cunningham, Vinnie Testaverte) for I suppose legal reasons. It actually had all of the teams helmets, which it would put facing one another before every game. Coolest. Graphic. Ever.

I speak of Tecmo Superbowl and the year was roughly 1994. When I got the money, it was one of the first games that I bought once I got my Nintendo.

I loved the game to death. I hated it, too. I hated it so much that my father would hear me cursing at it from the living room and I'd get kicked off the Nintendo for a couple of days because of it. I loved it so much that I would not only play it regularly, but I'd create fictional backstories for my team (is it any wonder that I had so many Friday nights free to play it?) and myself. I got my start as an offensive coordinator with the Houston Oilers (whom I played most of my scrimmages with) and got knocked around from town to town (Los Angeles Raiders, New England, Indianapolis, and the other teams I'd played before setting up a continuity) before finally landing my coaching spot at New Orleans. After a couple seasons I moved on to Minnesota and eventually Atlanta. I usually chose the teams by picking whichever the best team that got last place in its division that I felt I could do the most with. I tried to keep it realistic, with me coming in to "save" a faltering, underperforming team.

At some point I found a formula that really worked for me. A particular non-existent style of offense that centered around ball-control (4/5 running) and spent most of its time letting my stellar defense win the games for me. I'm hardly a tactical genious and it likely never would work in the real world, but it was primarily my way around relying on passing and working around the biggest drawback of the game: It cheats like a mofo!

With the exception of one season running the exceptional Bo Jackson for the LA Raiders, I never was able to win a Superbowl. Why? Let me reiterate: It cheats like a mofo!

There aren't any levels (novice/expert/etc) in the game. Instead, it would gauge how competent you were and then pull tricks out of its hat like a magic rabbit and become as difficult as it felt it needed to be. Moreso, because, as I've mentioned: It cheats like a mofo!

Since it can't do a whole lot to control how well you run the ball or whatnot, it takes exceeding control over the things you can't. During my season with the LA Raiders, for instance, I passed the ball some nine times and eight were interceptions. During my stints with the Saints, Vikings, and Falcons, it injured every important player leaving me with backups that I simply couldn't actually do anything with. Every second or third carry would result in a fumble and every time you didn't call their play (defense consisted of calling the defensive counterpart to their offensive plays), it would result in a touchdown. Even if you did call their plays, they'd still often find a way. In one case, all I had to do was to prevent them from scoring in the closing seconds of the game, so I took control of the safety in case they got it by everyone else.

Of course, they got it by everyone else and so it was just me and him. I was confident that I'd be able to get him until some blocked ran (at twice the rate of the running back!) ahead and not only blocked me, but flicked my player back, disabling him for about five seconds to that the running back could get an insurmountable lead.

The only real superbowl I ever won was when I joined the Philadelphia Eagles about half-way through. The only reason I cruised through the Superbowl was because I was ahead of its calculation curb and never realized that the coach who had gone 2-6 the first half of the season wasn't the same one that was not just winning, but dominating every game afterwards. It got better towards the playoffs, but never got impossible. That was the last Tecmo (half-)season that I played.

So when I took the time over the weekend to hook up my Nintendo, I found myself wanting to play Tecmo Superbowl for old-time's sake. I played a scrimmage game and completely whalloped the other team. The game is pathetically easy up until it decides to become impossibly hard. So I decided to bite the bullet and play another reason.

I decided to take a number of precautionary steps to assure that it wouldn't become impossibly hard. First, I took out the entirety of the starting offense and replaced them with the backups. Secondly, I all but threw a couple games early on so that I wouldn't be 8-0 for its first appraisal of my talents. After the first two games, I was still winning 40-0 wherebouts despite using all my backup players, so I stopped trying to sack them, stopped playing defense, and stopped trying to evade defenders while running the ball. I still won four of my next six games.

Simply put, I had to find a way to convince Tecmo that I didn't know what I was doing. It was essentially the only way I could get it to lay off in the second half of the season as it had in my previous run at it where I actually took my team to the Superbowl. I was trying to hustle a daggum video game machine.

It actually worked because my ninth game, it put me up against Joe Montana's 49ers (arguably the toughest team in the game) and wiped the floor with them (using my backups, but actually trying since I figured it had already done its appraisal). That must have been a mistake, because it would never let me do that again. The next week I played the New York Giants, and it had begun.

To demonstrate what it did, let me show you a list of the starting offensive players that it did not hurt:

Tight End Keith Jackson.

That's it. Hurt my QB, three running backs, both wide recievers, and my kick and punt returners. My backup QB threw seven interceptions that game (he'd only thrown two throughout the first half of the season, when he was starting), I fumbled four times, and the only time they fumbled it prevented a safety, after which they picked up the ball and ran it for 100 yards for the touchdown.

They won 37-0. It wasn't as close as it sounded.

It then readjusted me. I beat the Giants the second time around, but it wasn't for lack of trying on the computer's part. In the field goal attempt that would have clinched the game for me, they blocked it and ran it back to the other one yard-line when I finally tackled him (after being flicked twice by unusually fast blockers). I finished the season 13-3. It was good because I bought myself out of the first week. It didn't do me a whole lot of good, however, because it registered 13-3 as being a particularly good record and my first opponent in the playoffs was the much-maligned Giants.

To give you an idea about how bad the game got, by the second half I was:

Running the ball out of bounds every play to avoid fumbling. Both running backs were injured in the first half.

Never passing, despite the fact that I had Randall Cunningham (a good QB for those of you not-in-the-know). He through four interceptions in the first half.

Took all my players out except for the plays in which I needed to use them in order to avoid injuries.

Playing in the secondary because (a) I could never actually sack anyone (I had over 100 sacks during the season) and (b) its lineman would flick back whoever I was playing. They flicked back Reggie White on every play!

Punted on second downs from my endzone in order to avoid the inevitable safety when they would just magically know whatever play I was going to call, whether it was intuitive or counterintuitive. I did a hailmary on 3rd and 1. It not only called the play, which meant that they blitzed me, I fumbled and they ran it back for a touchdown.

Despite all of this, it wasn't until the last play that they beat me. It was a tied game and heading in to overtime, which of course meant that it was time for a 95-yard run... on the exact play that I called (which would mean an immediate sack in any other game).

What I find most frustrating is that because of the way it goes about it, there really isn't crapola I can do. I would prefer there be some difficulty level setting or something so that I wouldn't spend the first half of my season trying to get the thing to believe I'm bad and then working my butt off the second half of the season just to keep my head above water.

The most annoying thing is that I cannot practice. I can play with the Eagles against the Giants in exhibition mode, but I will destroy them every time. The only time it gets tough is in latter-season play... by the time it's convinced you that you're so good and it's so bad that you can't lose.

Hustle or be hustled, that's the story of Tecmo Superbowl.

I saw the bio on Johnny Cash today. I'd have figured that they'd have at least a screen (Johnny Cash 1934-2003 or whatnot) to remark on his death. By the end of it (unsurprisingly since his death was recent), he was alive and well. Guess this sorta thing takes time.

On par with seeing the Tim McGraw's name at the Firehouse on CMT, it's still weird to me to see Cross Canadian Ragweed videos. I see their bass guitarist and think "Hey, I talked to that guy at the Firehouse while we were waiting to use the john!"

It's also nice that Cody Canada's wife is in the video. Odd, but in the "Constantly" video, which is a sad love song, she looks genuinely happier than she does when I've seen her in real life, where she carries this perpetually tee'd off face.

Just an observation.

A music producer commented on Tim McGraw:

"All the girls adore him, the guys want to be him, and all the mothers want a kid like him. What more could you possibly want from an act?"

Talent?

Yeah, yeah, I'm being snarky. But seriously, all throughout they proclaimed that as the only real "barrier" to his success. Well, yeah, that would be a barrier. It makes me wonder if the only real barrier to my being a nuclear physicist is the fact that I ain't smart enough. Maybe if I looked really good in Wranglers, I could be a successful nuclear physicist just like Tim McGraw is a successful musician.

The second thing was seeing, not one, but TWICE, a quick shot of Tim McGraw's name on a sign from our very own Firehouse (once after he was first signed and once again right before his radio success). The first time was odd enough, but the second time it read:

FRI: Tim McGraw
SAT: Robert Earl Keen

WAY Twilight Zone, man.

WAY!

Say what you will about Former President Bill Clinton. Call him a pathological liar, call him a flawed man who was devoted to the people's good. Accuse him of killing Vincent Foster or credit him with making violins sound just a bit sweeter all across the land. Say what you will, but there is no denying that the man is interesting.

There is also no denying that the man has an interesting past. The little boy from Hope whose father died around when he was born, who got into a fist-fight with his step-father and then turned around, graduated at the top of his class, went to Oxford, and married the most unlikely of spouses. There is no denying that Bill Clinton has an interesting history.

Say what you will about Clinton's eight years as president. Accuse him of laying the groundwork to allow 9/11 to occur or running the most corrupt administration in history. Credit him with neigh-singlehandedly creating the booming economy of the 90's, balancing the budget, and waging a war for privacy rights. However, there is no denying that his presidency was, however flawed or grand, interesting. There is no denying it.

Tonight, I watched CMT's behind the scenes on the making of Tim McGraw. I've said some mean things about that fellow over the years, but I do have to say that Tim has a very unique and interesting history. He assaulted his dad to protect his mom. He was raised by a single, poor mother only to find out that his father was baseball star Tug McGraw. His confrontations with Tug, who denied paternity, the letter he had to send to get Tug to pay for college, and the joyful union of father and son when all the dust had settled.

But if Tim McGraw's past is so darn interesting, why in tarnation is his music so darned bland? I simply do not understand this. How can someone who has lead such an interesting life write, "co-write", and pick such uninteresting material. If interesting begets interesting, as in the case of Bill Clinton, then how can it beget the vapidity of Tim McGraw's music? If I had half his experiences, I'd have fifty lifetimes of material to write about... let me rephrase, I'd have enough to make at least one musical album full of interesting songs.

I do not understand...

I'd named him Che, from a conversation I had with Mike about him. I'd spelled Chihuahua Chiuaua, he pointed out that it the word has three H's. My initial instinct was then to name him Triple-H, which is the name of a WWE wrestler. After a careful analysis, I figured that didn't fit. Mike and I then talked about how silly the Spanish are with their silent H's... so I then thought "Echay" (Spanish pronunciation of the letter) but that didn't roll off the tongue, so Che he became. He never really responded to it, though.

He was a remarkably sweet little guy. He was enormously affectionate. He kept trying to dig himself closer and closer to me and last night, out of the blue started licking my tummy.

It would have actually worried me less if he'd been misbehaving. I put him in my room, left, and sat on the staircase to see if he'd start barking. He didn't (whined a bit, but a quiet whine). He peed on my favorite shirt, but thankfully the shirt wasn't white. If the dog was bad then I'd just have let it go with no real qualms about it, but he wasn't and I became increasingly worried about finding him a home.

Buck is something of a country boy who lives in the complex. I'd never actually talked to him before, but his father asked me what the status on the repavement was and I took the opportunity to ask them if they knew anyone who lost a small dog. Well, one thing lead to another and Buck came up to see him.

He noticed right off that he'd just been neutered because he still had stitches. I mentioned something about trying to find the real owner. He nodded, but I don't think he will.

I didn't tell him I'd named the dog, figuring that he'd want to name it himself anyhow.

That may be just as well. I don't know if he was lost or abandoned (I thought abandoned until I saw the neutering stitches), but in any case the important thing was that the dog found a home and wouldn't have to go to the SPCA. To the family of the dog (which probably don't live around here, Buck saw it working on a paint job way on the other side of the complex a couple days ago), hopefully they'll get another one and that'll be a net gain for animals saved from having been put down.

It was a good day.

I was supposed to go home tonight and have a flank steak, courtesy of Mom.

I like flank steak.

Somehow, during all the confusion outside, a little chihuahua was wondering around making trouble for everyone.

He's sitting in my lap. Collars, no tags. A little shy at first, but all in all a rather decent fellow.

I made a leash out of a modem cord and took him for a walk earlier to see if he went anywhere. He didn't.

He's too small to substitute for the flank steak, I cannot have a dog at this time in my life. I don't know what to do.

Do I let him back out and hope that he finds his way home? Keep him here and put up signs then take him to the pound after a week?

??!!

Pictures available if you [Read More!]

My count of eight cars was half-wrong. There are some apartments off to the side that I forgot to check. There are sixteen out there presently.

Some got out in time.


Others didn't.


Did I say sixteen? I guess fifteen out there now.

This is an actual excerpt from one of my many conversations with Polly, who is a really good friend of mine and as close to a little sister as I will ever have. This is a conversation from June that I just ran across searching for another conversation I was going to share. We have an interesting chemistry.

RAW: I don't like the sun
RAW: I wish it would go away
Polly: Why
Polly: Whats wroing with it?
RAW: Cause it makes everything so friggin' hot
Polly: haha
RAW: and it isn't even July yet!
Polly: awww
Polly: Poor poor alex
RAW: I know
RAW: It's so hard being me
Polly: so hard!!
RAW: I'm sending out a bajillion resumes
Polly: Me too
RAW: Today
Polly: Good fod you
RAW: [RAW curses resume]
RAW: I'm also cursing the sun
RAW: [waves fist in the air] Damm jiuuuuuuuu sun!!
Polly: Ehhh
Polly: Sun is nice
RAW: Eh
Polly: I am gettin a nice tan goin cause of it!
RAW: Boo hiss tans
Polly: Wha?
Polly: You no like tans?
Polly: [sigh] That's so Alex-like
RAW: What's so good about tans?
Polly: They are pretty!
RAW: Why?!
RAW: Pale is pretty!!
Polly: I dont think so!
Polly: I think it makes people look fatter
RAW: Weird...
RAW: I like pale
Polly: I know you do
RAW: It makes skin look vanilla-ey
Polly: I see.
RAW: Do you?
Polly: not even a little bitty bit
RAW: Get your eyes checked. Tell him that pale skin does not look sufficiently vanilla-ey.
Polly: Why?
RAW: Cause he'll fix your eyesight
RAW: or send you to a loony bin.
Polly: and this would be good why?!?!
RAW: Cause you're either blind or crazy.
Polly: I see
RAW: Do you?
Polly: We've been through this already!!
RAW: I like pale
Polly: I know you do

There are a dozen cars in the parking lot tomorrow night.

If they don't move before 9am, they're going to be towed.

They left a message on our front door that they're going to be repaving our parking lot, starting tomorrow.

We rarely use our front door. The parking lot is in the back, and all of the apartments have a back door.

They left two messages on our door. One to say they were going to start on the 15th and that they'd finish on the 16th. Yesterday, they left another saying that they were going to be starting today.

We had potholes Houston Mayor Lee Brown could only dream of in our parking lot for over a year. They just fixed it about a month ago. Now they're going to repave it all and tow any cars that stand in their way.

Out front, I count eight residents whose notices are waiting at their front door. Unread.

Last time Papa John's had a pizza deal, we got more notice than this.

Some Chinese restaurant never has good deals, and they make more of an effort to tell us this than our apartment complex does to let us know that they're going to repave the parking lot and cars out there are going to be towed.

Both Papa John's and the expensive Chinese delivery place always put on notice on our front door, one on our back, and sometimes they walk up a flight of stairs and put one on the bedroom door to the balcony.

The apartment complex simply put notices on our front door, where eight are waiting. Unread.

They towed my roommate's car two days after the registration expired. It was then that we decided that we wouldn't be staying here. I hope it was worth a good pair of tenants who always pay their rent on time for whatever kick back they got from the towing company.

They are going to make money per car that is towed tomorrow.

Right now there are a dozen cars out there and eight notices sitting in front of tenants doors.

There are likely going to be eight people visiting the complex office tomorrow.

At least they know they can save $4 with two medium sized pizzas at Papa John's.

This quiz carries the weight of the Christian Science Monitor, though doesn't have any neat graphics with it. It's also labeled "Empire Builders" which suggests that it seems to come with a particular point of view. I also noticed that the wording of some made some choices inherently more desirable than others (even extreme-types).

But in any case, here are the results to this quiz:

Realist

Realists…

Are guided more by practical considerations than ideological vision

Believe US power is crucial to successful diplomacy - and vice versa

Don't want US policy options unduly limited by world opinion or ethical considerations

Believe strong alliances are important to US interests

Weigh the political costs of foreign action

Believe foreign intervention must be dictated by compelling national interest

Historical realist: President Dwight D. Eisenhower
Modern realist: Secretary of State Colin Powell

They left out the most important detail:

Who was playing?!

That could change the entire perspective of the article!

Since I was in high school, I knew that I wanted to have children. The thought of having a daughter (or two or three) has always appealed to me in a schmaltzy "my little princess" kind of way (though any daughter of mine and anyone that I'd likely have children with would likely take at least some exception to the "princess" label). As I've gotten older, I've come to the conclusion that perhaps I would be better off with sons. I'd raise a boy normally, but my little girl wouldn't be able to date until she's 31 years of age and any boy that wants to date her would need to show three forms of ID and undergo a rigorous background check.

That would likely not go over very well with my theoretical daughter.

Courtesy of The Onion, I've found another reason to fear a little girl...

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go check the armpits on my dress shirts now...

What do you call someone that remembers every birthday and sends a gift accordingly?

What do you call someone that, on a whim, will just give you a small little gift of appreciation for your relationship (or lack thereof)?

What do you call someone who knows what you've got up your sleeve before you've even told anyone else?

What do do you call someone that doesn't know precisely where you're living, so they just send a gift to both addresses?

Some call them the devil. Others call them a nuisance to the public health. Many like the term "defendant".

Most people call them the Phillip Morris, Incorporated.

We met some time ago at the Firehouse. They asked me a few questions cause they were curious what kinds of cigarettes that I smoked and where I lived. I politely told them Doral and Pall Mall. They could have gotten all huffy, since both are the products of their rivals.

But, the kind and generous souls that they are, they did not. Instead, they gave me a lighter and, because the lighter had a yellow sticker on it, a really nice (and not cheap) pool cue.

Since then, they've sent me:

Nine cigarette lighters.

Two Zippo lighters.

A CD compartment sleeve.

Two pairs of golden dice.

Two decks of cards.

Ten or so packs of beef jerky. (How'd they know I love beef jerky?)

Two road trip guides to Wyoming with a booklet of places to see and even information on speed traps. (How'd they know I was planning a trip up to the area?)

A little mat with which I can use to learn how to dance the two-step.

And now Four tickets to a free steak-and-egg breakfast at Ruth's Steakhouse.

All for telling them that I generally don't buy their product.

I've got a good friend in Phillip Morris. [nodnod]

Michael Williams has been watching Queer Eye For the Straight Guy and has a post on the lessons that he's learned from it.

You wouldn't know it by looking at me or even reading what I write, but I am actually rather meticulous about my wardrobe. I regularly commit the faux pas of dkblue-on-black, but there are some things that I am downright anal about and some of the subjects which Michael touches on:

3. Accessorize. This is my next step. I have a watch that I really like, and it's turned me on to perhaps buying another in a different style and color; then I could change things up a bit by wearing different watches on different days! I also want a pair of sunglasses, but I haven't been able to find any I like yet. I don't think I'm going to do much accessorizing beyond that. Actually, my mortgage agent had a huge gold ring with his initials in diamonds, and it looked pretty pimp... but nah.

I have some eight pairs of footwear, six in regular circulation. When wearing blue jeans, I always wear my brown Catapillar boots and a brown belt (some exceptions to this rule, such as if I'm wearing a black shirt and light jeans or if I'm wearing dark jeans).

On the other hand, if I'm wearing black pants (slacks or jeans), I'll generally wear black boots (either Cats or my Harleys) and a black belt. I used to wear black and black if I had on dark blue slacks, but I've recently revised my policy on that on that score.

In either case, you will almost always see that my belt and shoes are at least the same color. I also only buy blue boots with gold plating (as opposed to silver) and my black boots are always plated silver. Same with my belt when I can manage it.

In a perfect world, I'd have two watches (one brown-gold and one black-silver) so that I could match all my trim. In an even more perfect world, I'd actually even have two pairs of glasses, one silver and one gold.

I know what you're thinking: Why do you care? Good lord, boy, you wear blue-on-black! You have no fashion sense!

It's a good question and one with rather silly answers. Simply put, I feel odd when I don't. On days where they don't match, I feel awkward all day long. It's like accidentally putting on one black shoe and one brown one (which I've accidentally done, so I'm blogging what I know here!).

So where did I, a straight boy with nerdish tendencies from Texas, learn these things? Not from Queer Eye because I don't have cable.

From comic books.

Not the actual comics themselves so much as when I was designing them for various characters I was coming up with. There would be the heroes colors and his trim. The trim being what seperates the colors on his torso with those of his leggings as well as his boots, gloves, and sometimes his mask and cape.

On the right you will see me in everyday clothing and me in a superhero costume. Notice how on the superhero costume, it's a combination of blue and green, but blue makes up most of the area while the green kinda fills in the spaces. The green is the trim.

In my everyday clothing, I'm wearing both blue and green. Shoes can come in any color, though since I almost always wear boots my two choices are generally brown and black. The same goes for belts, which makes them both cry out for a singular "trim" color. In this example, I chose brown. If I had put myself wearing slacks, then the more obvious choice would have been black.

We don't generally wear gloves, capes, or whatnot on our clothes. However, we do wear watches which would also ideally fit the trim, whichever color your choose. I'm not as anal about this as I might otherwise be, but that's mostly a function of money and laziness. Not for lack of noticing.

Of course, like my superhero counterpart to the right, most shirts have logos. The beauty of trim is that you don't have to worry about it. It only really needs to connect with itself and since you're wearing blue or black, you don't generally need to worry about finding a color or colors that match.

In my specific case, a great number of my shirts either have insignificant logos or no logos, which leaves me more often in the clear.

There are exceptions to the trim. It works for me since I generally wear boots and tuck my shirt in. In the case that I wear tennis shoes, I generally leave my shirt untucked and therefore have no real "trim" to worry about. Of course, I also feel like a slob, so I don't wear tennis shoes that often unless I'm going to be exercising, in which case I will wear sweats instead of blue jeans anyhow.

At some point, I'll have the money to get the watches, glasses, flip-out boots, capes, trausers, nuclear insignia dealie, and other things.

The new huddled masses:

They have cell phones. They've got e-mail. They shop free at Old Navy, McDonald's and Virgin record stores. They have free access to acupuncture treatments, yoga classes and massage therapy.

Welcome to the coddled lifestyles of New York's new "homeless" - young kids who, besides getting pampered by charities, rake in hundreds of dollars a week begging on the street.

[...]

They have cell phones. They've got e-mail. They shop free at Old Navy, McDonald's and Virgin record stores. They have free access to acupuncture treatments, yoga classes and massage therapy.

Welcome to the coddled lifestyles of New York's new "homeless" - young kids who, besides getting pampered by charities, rake in hundreds of dollars a week begging on the street.

I suppose I can't complain too much, as I am getting a similar income for what amounts to sending out a handful or two of job applications a week and waiting to see if any of the fish bite.

Of course, I worked 60 hours a week for 19 months to earn my unemployment benefits.

Once unemployment runs out (I'm likely not going to apply for an extension for ethical reasons), it looks like I'm going to be taking whatever job comes down the pike. Probably a security guard position.

That's going to pay less than panhandling.

Bright thought for the day.

On the same day as the letter to the editor mentioned below, a guest column was praising the virtues of Houston:

Planning a night out could also be an all-day event with more than 35 live theaters, 40 movie theaters and 400 nightclubs from which to choose.

Ultimately, that's what Houston offers most. Choice. It is a city of choice. You can do what you want to do and be who you want to be here. And no matter what you choose, there's a group or organization ready and willing to help you feel welcome.

Now, I'm not wearing rose-colored glasses. I realize the traffic can be a bother when there's a long holdup and you have somewhere to be. I see the ozone warnings. I realize there is crime here. But there's crime everywhere. And as for the traffic (which seems to be everyone's chief complaint here), I just can't seem to get bothered about it. When I'm sitting waiting in a parking lot on the freeway, I can't help thinking, "I'm stuck in traffic, but, hey, I'm stuck in traffic in Houston!"

Before moving here, I was a columnist for my local newspaper. I was a big fish in a very little pond, and I gave that up hesitantly. Here, I am an infinitesimal fish in an enormous pond.

But, oh, what a pond!

I must confess that I am sufficiently jaded to not care about being stuck in traffic in Houston.

Regardless, Houston has the amenities of all big cities without nearly the expense. I'm sure it's more expensive than Suffolk, where she's originally from, but all things considered it's a nice bargain.

One thing that she touches on that I like is that we don't have a 6th Street like Austin does. 6th Street is nice and all that, but we have our goodies nice and spread out. We have Montrose and Richmond, the Firehouse southwest of town, a whole lot to do up in Spring and out in Katy. You even have a choice as to where to converge for a generic night out, which is great.

On a side-note, I wonder if Daniel has moved down yet.

Not long ago, I complained about "crickets" outside. I didn't think they were actually crickets because they were much too loud, but I had no clue what they were. All I knew was:

They are daggone LOUD, L-O-U-D... loud.

They're most active at sunset, which is precisely the point I enjoy being outside.

They're loud.

They are not harmonic or melodic or anything pleasent.

They are so loud that the noise comes in through my window with obnoxious volume

I wish I had the "noclip" power from Quake II where I can fly and look through things so that I could crush them while they scream.

Anyhow, you get the idea. Well, last night while I was pacing on the balcony I heard a bug's noise coming from below. I looked down and saw a humungoid bug laying near dead on the balcony. Since I wanted to keep pacing and it was laying on its back (in other words, fairly inert), I decided to go ahead and kick it off.

Then I heard it.

The screech that it gave as it flied down was the same one that has been torturing me for months now. So it definitely wasn't a cricket. I've no idea what it was but it does answer my question of "how can something so small be so loud?"

The answer: It's not small. It's a bit over a centimeter in diameter, five centimeters long, with wings that, when spread, probably span seven or so centimeters total.

If I'd known what it was before I kicked it off the balcony, I'd have crushed the booger and taken great pleasure while doing so.

I hate those bugs, whatever they are.

My, my. They do have a blog for everything.

What is it about Chicagoans? I don't mean all of them, just the ones that I know are from Chicago. I know they're from Chicago, you see, cause the radio stations, the weather, the politics (!!), the restaurants, the streets, and every-friggin'-thing is better than it is in Houston. I swear, Chicagoans (or at least the ones that proclaim where they're from every fifteen seconds) will look at a dead bug on the ground and say "those are not as good as Chicago's dead bugs."

I've noticed this going all the way back to high school. I can name five of my classmates that were from Chicago and I can't name where anyone else moved from in my entire class.

So if Chicago is so great, why is the population there declining (as opposed to the rest of the top-10 cities in the country, sans Philadelphia and Detroit)?

Oh yeah, and it ain't "pop" (or "pap" as it comes out), it's "coke" or even "soda" or, if you wanna get technical, "soft drink"... but it ain't pop!

I was reminded of this diatribe when I was reading the Chronicle letters to the editor today. A fellow named David Arthurs wrote in to say something about Chicago. I scanned the rest and it read "The biggest differences I see between Houston and Chicago are Houston's lack of a bold, grand master plan and the commitment of a visionary mayor."

So now I'm torn. I've either got to admit that Chicago's mayor (a Daley, no less) is better than ours or argue that Mayor Lee Brown is actually better than another mayor out there...

What's a boy to do?

Matthew Baldwin has an interesting account from a Dean rally in Seattle.

It reminds me of some of the interesting times I had at the Last Concert club, where the bongo drums were considered soul music of sorts, all four unlit corners of the yard were filled with pot smokers, and I found watching the people around me a lot more interesting than watching the band play.

Of course, you can't choose who your supporters are and because Dean has some wackos on his side doesn't mean that Dean himself is wacko or irrelevent.

I am in the camp of wanting to like Dean, liking some of what he has to say, but objecting to other parts so vociferously that I could never stomach pulling the lever for him. On a personal level, he bothers me considerably less than, say, Hillary Clinton or John Kerry.

Of course, I always liked Al Gore from a personal standpoint even after I decided I was going to pull the lever for Bush. Of course, in the heat of the campaign, it took its toll and by the end I was not only to see that Bush had won, but also that Gore had lost.

It's difficult to look objectively at politicians while they strongly stand either for or against what you do. Of course, there are politicians with which I agree with a lot that have serious personal reservations about (John McCain comes to mind when he's not talking about campaign finance reform) and others that I rarely agree with but think are generally good people (Al Gore when he's not talking about Texas).

On a last and irrelevent note, I didn't realize Dean was only 5'8".

Though there was no way to know for sure, my guess was that Proposition 12 would run largely along party lines, passing the general Republican threshold to about a 60%-40% victory. Obviously, that didn't happen.

My first bit of consternation came when I was looking for the polling place (they keep moving it around in my neighborhood) and I saw numerous "Vote No" signs and very few "Vote Yes" ones. On television, I'd seen a few Yes ads (or one run a couple of times) and not any No ones.

If my suspicions were correct (and as I've read more it seems they were not) then No spent its money on portasigns while Yes went big budget on TV. Television is all find and good, but I think when Texans see big-budget airwaves effort without a similar land-based campaigned they start becoming skeptical and there isn't a wagon Texans like to jump on more than a grassroots effort.

Regardless, I still felt confident that it would be an easy victory for Prop 12 in large part because Texas is a conservative state, conservatives generally like tort reform (Gov. Bush and to a lesser extent Gov. Perry campaigned on it).

What I suppose I didn't see coming was the astonishingly good fundraising efforts of the No side, which outraised the Yes side by about a million dollars ($7M to $6M). With that money, they were able to explain what they percieved as the perils of Prop 12 and convinced a significant number of Republican voters to switch sides (it's also worth noting some conservative groups opposed it as well for various reasons).

The other weakness was in the broad scope in the wording of the amendment. I suspect that Adam, my friend and commenter below, isn't the only otherwise sympathetic soul who couldn't vote for it because they didn't want to open up other avenues of tort settlement caps. I also believe that among Democrats, Governor Perry's involvement instinctively made them opposed.

I noted with a bit of surprise that Harris County was coming out against 12. My feeling was that Harris County (as opposed to Houston proper) is a Republican county and, in addition to that, one with a lot of doctors and people in the medical industry.

What I didn't take into account, I suppose, was Harris County's failure to appreciate the problem. Because Houston is so chalk-full of doctors, if one picks up and moves to St. Louis, then it's no real skin off our nose. Therefore forfeiting the right to a large settlement should something go wrong seemed like a high solution to a problem we're only tangentally feeling.

So their victories in urban and suburban regions combined to a closer election than expected, but not quite a victory. Why? Because the Yes vote tore off one region of defectors: South Texas.

Despite the fact that south Texas is a largely Democratic region due to its high Mexican-American immigrant population, it broke ranks in a really big way to ultimately push Proposition 12 through. In a way, it makes sense: that's where the lawsuits are occuring, and more importantly that's where the doctors are leaving.

I first found out about the problem going on down there last November while reading up on the gubernatorial race. It was serious enough an issue that both Perry and Sanchez put it at the forefront of their race (I think Sanchez even had a web site dedicated solely to this issue).

Solidly anti-caps at the time, I made an exception then in regard to medical malpractice cases, which Perry advocated. Sanchez's solution was to pay doctors to start practices in rural areas. I think both were decent ideas, but a problem the size of the one going on now (where OBGYN specialists stop delivering babies because they can't afford to anymore) calls for a larger solution, in my mind.

The fact is that at the moment Texas has a reputation for being one of the most inhospitable states towards medical professionals in large part because of sizable jury rewards and subsequently high malpractice insurance premiums. This creates two problems: First, doctors retire early or drive on down the road. Second, and probably much more widespread, freshly minted doctors elect to start practices elsewhere.

Kuffner glibly comments:

I look forward to better access to health care for all Texans and lower insurance rates in the near future. That is what this amendment was about, right?

Well, yeah.

There are always reasons to be skeptical and to believe that this is a money grab by insurance companies and whatnot, but the fact remains that there has been a serious problem, and no less so simply because those of us in proximity to a lot of people (and thus a lot of doctors) haven't felt it.

It's worth noting that because the problem hasn't been here, it's possible that the advantages to Houston, Austin, and Dallas are going to be minimal. Malpractice insurance rates will very likely go down, the doctors will probably pocket a great deal of that money and while some of it will get to urban consumers, some of it won't.

It's rural Texas that's going to reap a lot of the benefits. I have no problem with that, however, as they're the ones who don't have a hospital or clinic just a hop and skip down the highway. They're the ones that have to drive further and deal with longer wait times due to lack of available personnel. This is especially true in South Texas, where not only are a large number the lawsuits occuring, but where a lot of the citizenry doesn't speak English and needs a doctor that can talk to them in a language they can understand.

By making Texas more attractive to doctors, we've done them a lot of good.

So congratulations to Governor Perry for risking political capital on this. Some Democrats were hoping that this would give him a black eye and hinder his other pursuit (redistricting). He just won a bit of capital on this and its richly deserved. More than at any point before this, I'm glad that I voted for him last time around.

BurntOrangeReport still hasn't checked in yet, but a few others have.

Charles Kuffner ("No")gets snarky:

Proof that Alabama isn't the only state where voters can be convinced to vote against their own economic self-interest:

The measure lost in Harris and Dallas counties, but won in South Texas, where doctors last year closed their offices for a day to protest high insurance rates.

We all know how interested Governor Perry is in the plight of South Texas residents. I'm sure he'll do everything in his power to help them out now.

Beldar ("Yes") reminds us that the law that just pass was what was in effect before some judicial power-grabbing back in 1988. He also has some words of caution:

In the last regular session of the Legislature, our legislators perceived that there's a problem, an imbalance, in the civil law system as it affects doctors and health-care providers. And so they passed, and the governor signed, a tort reform statute that contains some caps on non-economic damage awards in personal injury lawsuits to try to fix the problem.

Will it? Well, I dunno, and neither do the members of the Legislature or Gov. Perry — and neither does anyone else who's been filling up your TV screen and mailbox and phone answering machine with Prop 12 propaganda, pro or con, for the last several weeks.

Owen Courreges ("Yes") calls it a "good day for Texas."

If you wrote something about Prop 12 and I haven't mentioned you yet, drop me a line and I'll add it.

UPDATE (3:04PM): Larry Simon doesn't think it will make a difference:

Which Special Interest will pocket all the profits without passing them along to the consumers? Will the insurance companies refuse to lower rates, racking up massive profits? Will the doctors start pocketing the savings, spending more time golfing or putting their kids in Harvard, Yale, and bailing them out of jail?

UPDATE (8:02PM): Burnt Orange Report has a fantastic analysis of the election that put in to statistics a lot of what I plan to say

So far it's passing 56-44%, but only 5% is in thus far. In fact, all of the propositions are passing by variable margins. Three or four are doing worse than Prop 12 and a handful are doing about the same, but most are doing fairly or significantly better.

UPDATE (8:33PM): The efforts to dig in to the permanent education funds is now the only one failing. Prop 12 is still up by 50k votes or so.

UPDATE (10:03PM): Not looking good for Prop 12 right now. They're about 30k votes up but the later returns seem to be favoring the "no" vote. 68% of the vote is in... it's all in what votes are left to count right now...

UPDATE (10:46PM): The Yes lead continues to hover around 30k votes. A significant portion of the remaining votes remaining are to be coming from Harris County (60% or so of our tally is in), however, which is a surprisingly strong No bastion for a city that has a lot of money invested in innovative medical practices (which are very often the kind that cause lawsuits).

UPDATE (11:33PM): We're in the home stretch! About 95% done and the Yes vote is up by 22k votes or so... It's looking better, but a turnaround is possible depending on what precincts are left. The SoS's state is unsurprisingly jammed up at the moment.

UPDATE (11:38PM): The SoS site has finally loaded. Remaining votes seem largely in Harris County (boo!). Montgomery County (which is a Yes county) has a few as does Jasper (marginally a No county). Navarro County is almost all pending, but the one precinct to get theirs in was heavily Yes.

UPDATE (11:51PM): KHOU has declared the Yes vote as winning. If there's one thing I've learned about media projections...

UPDATE (11:57PM): Chronicle declares "Yes" victory.

DECLARING VICTORY AND GOING TO BED (4:05AM): Being the anal retentive retard that I am, I was going to wait until the last votes were counted before I went to bed, but it does not seem that's going to happen. Regardless, the consensus is that the "yea"s have it. More thoughts on it tomorrow.

UPDATE (10:18PM, SUNDAY): Good thing I didn't stay up all night and wait for all the votes to be tallied. There are still some 30 precincts that have yet to report.

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Sugarmama has had it up to here with MBTI typology after recieving conflicting results:

This week in my Organizational Behavior class, we took a miniature Myers-Briggs quiz. Today I removed the "INFP" from my About Me section and replaced it with nothing. When I took the full written Myers-Briggs in college, my score was INFP. When I took the quiz last week, my score was "ISTJ". And when I took the various online versions of the test over the last few years, my score was either I S/N F/T J/P (pick any combination). The only constant is that I am an introvert.

So, I think this test is a big dumptruck load of horse shit. Maybe they should call the test Myers-Briggs What Mood Are You In Today?. Sometimes, I feel. And other times, I think. Sometimes, I judge, and other times, I perceive. It all depends on my mood! When I am at work, I react to situations differently than I would at home. Does this mean I have multiple personalities? "Honey, today I am feeling rather ISTP. Could you treat me like an ISTP today?"

As it happens, I am something of a self-made scholar of Typology. I'm familiar with the different theories on it, what it does and what it doesn't do. I am well-versed its founding by Carl Jung, it's implementation by Myers-Briggs, and Dr. David Keirsey's popular offshoot of it.

For those of you unfamiliar with what Typology is, I recommend you check out both the Personality Page and Keirsey's homepage. The long and short of it is that personality can be gauged by four dials, Introvert vs. Extrovert, iNtuitive vs. Sensational, Thinking vs. Feeling, and Judging vs. Percieving. The four of these make up a four letter combination that, when effective, will tell you a lot about yourself and other people. If you've heard variations of ESFJ, INTP, ENFP, and so on, that's what that is.

The thing about Typology and similar gauges is that they are measuring the immeasurable human temperament. So it's not uncommon for the measurements to be off.

Take, for instance, a rock and a yardstick. You can measure the rock from end to end in four different ways, but because the rock is an inexact structure (not a cube, sphere, etc.) you cannot get a good idea of the rock's size with a yardstick, much less it's weight.

Typology is, in many ways, a yardstick. For some people, it measures them very easily. My roommate JD is an INTP and there is no question about it. Ora and Elciem, two women from my past, are both INFPs and long before I discovered Typology, I could tell the INFPish things that they had in common.

Of course, problems naturally occur when someone's characteristics are not so clear cut. Danforth, Ora, and Elciem were easy because for the most part the were far down the line in each (or most) of the E-I, N-S, T-F, and P-J axes. Sometimes it's not so easy to determine because they strattle towards the middle in one or more areas.

No two of any type are exactly the same, in large part because there are degrees to which one is a particular letter. For instance, Ora is barely an N (forest-minded rather than tree-oriented), I am more solidly an N, and JD is unquestionably an N. Plus, as Keirsey demonstrates in his writing on the subject, letters collect differently so an NT's N is somewhat different from an NF's N.

But this ignores those that do not see themselves as solidly any letter. As Sugarmama points out, she uses both her Judging and Percieving skills depending on what's needed at any given moment. This is also true.

However, it's not a matter of which you use (because everyone uses both) as which is your natural preference. For instance, I am right-handed. However, there are certain tasks for which I almost always use my left hand (talking on the phone for instance). When playing baseball, I bat from the right side, by I use my left hand to pull. When in the field, I throw with my right hand, but use my left hand to catch.

Typology works the same way. We have to use introversion when we're alone and extroversion to deal with people. We all both think and feel, and judge and percieve as the situation warrants.

The question is not what you use, but which you prefer to use and what you feel more comfortable using when the two are in conflict with one another. When your friend did something wrong and got in trouble for it, are you more inclined to be more concerned that (T) they made a mistake or (F) they're upset at what's happened? Even when you use both, one will usually be more dominant than the other.

I, for instance, am an INTJ. Some of the dials are pretty firm (percieving isn't my strong suit, nor is sensing) and others are more strattling. However, while I can write extensively about how or what something makes me feel (F), I find that if I get wound up in my emotions for too long, I start feeling like a fish out of water. When all is said and done, I'd rather sit there and Think than sit there and Feel.

The other problem is that tests are not always accurate. For instance, I register as Extroverted on nearly every test that I've taken. There's something in the way that the test is being asked, or in the way that I'm reading it, that situate me to give misleading answers. It could be because I strive to be more extroverted than I am or that I am a lot more extroverted than I used to be. But after my second or third book reading about it, I came to the conclusion that no, too many people drive me crazy a lot more than being alone for too long does.

The tests are not infallible, nor are the theories involved (otherwise there wouldn't be a Jungian branch and a Keirseyan branch). On the whole, though, I've found it to be an invaluable tool when it comes to creating characters. For instance, I can name the typology schematics for every character I've written. Of course, I can also point out areas where they defy their type, as we all do from time to time.

The trick to understanding it all, in my view, is recognizing that tests are flawed and it's not so much a matter of being this or that, it's a matter of being this a little (or a lot) more than that.

Like the yardstick and the rock, though, there are a number of people that are just impossible to measure with this tool. It's possible that Sugarmama is one of them and that using typology is the wrong tool, like using a measuring stick to gauge the amount of water, where the measurement always just depends.

Oh, and a twenty-question test is about useful as astrology. I don't even feel comfortable with tests that are only fifty questions long. It leaves far too much room for misinterpreted questions to have too much impact.

I think it's dangerous for companies to put too much stock in Typology for that reason. Giving people a test can be a generally helpful thing, but my former boss's penchant for having us all keep our "personality profiles" (he didn't use Typology, but he could have and there would have been the same problems) on our desk and talking to me less as a person and more as a "high on the green bar" person can come across as condescending and be largely useless.

One of my less conservative positions is in regards to tort reform. It is my view that lawsuits, and even "outrageous" verdicts, play a role in the bottom lines of companies when it comes to producing products.

When I attended a College Republicans meeting at the University of Houston, I entered and won a raffle in which I won a t-shirt that was ironically for the Texans for Lawsuit Reform or somesuch organization that made a play on a DuPont or plastic company's slogan:

"Lawyers: We don't make the products you buy, we make the products you buy more expensive!"

That's true, but only half of the story. The other half would be:

"Lawyers: We don't make the products you buy, but we make the products you buy safer!"

To be sure, there are a lot of outrageous verdicts out there for stupid things. If on a jury, I'd be a lot less inclined to hand those kinds of verdicts out except in the most egregious cases.

That said, with a cap on punative damages, it gives large corporations free reign to make dangerous products because the amount of money it takes to settle a case would go considerably down and that would provide less financial incentive to make products that won't kill people.

Narrator: A new car built by my company leaves somewhere traveling at 60 mph. The rear differential locks up. The car crashes and burns with everyone trapped inside. Now, should we initiate a recall? Take the number of vehicles in the field, A, multiply by the probable rate of failure, B, multiply by the average out-of-court settlement, C. A times B times C equals X. If X is less than the cost of a recall, we don't do one.
Business woman on plane: Are there a lot of these kinds of accidents?
Narrator: You wouldn't believe.
Business woman on plane: Which car company do you work for?
Narrator: A major one.

This is from a scene in Fight Club, but I am positive that corporations do keep track of these sorts of things. To cap punative damages would throw this equation so off-whack that they'd rarely be inclined to ever do a recall and more dangerous cars would be on the road.

One of my professors at UH made another point that I believe deserves to be made after the Firestone tire failures and it looked like lawsuits were going to drive Firestone out of business, many thought that unfair that a single faulty product would single-handedly kill a company. To which one of my professors aptly responded: "What's so unfair about that? Companies go out of business for one big mistake all the time."

And that's true. Service Merchandise was thrust into serious financial problems in large part due to simple failure to upgrade their computer system. Why should problems that cause deaths affect the bottom line less than failure to automate check-outs?

As it turns out, Firestone has survived and I'm willing to bet that their tires are safer and will be a lot quicker to recall faulty ones in the future.

But while I oppose tort reform in the form of settlement caps broadly, I made an exception for medical malpractice lawsuits for a couple of reasons.

1. Medical coverage is not a convenience product and not as easy to replace. If it were determined that all tires were unsafe and they were all sued out of business, the market would likely step in and find some other ways to keep cars moving. Doctors, on the other hand, are largely our only defenders against illness and injury. No "new product" can replace that and the market won't provide for one as they would with automobiles, tires, and the like.

2. Medical coverage is inherently less competitive, therefore better "product" is unlikely to step in when the current one steps out. Effective medical care often comes in with proximity. When your kid's head is bleeding, the further out you have to go, the more problems are likely to occur. When struck with an emergency or are in need of immediate care, you're not likely to shop around.

3. Medical care providers are effectively good samaritans. Car companies want to sell cars. Tire companies want to sell tires. Medical care providers want to fix you up. Sure, like the car and tire companies, they want to make a profit as well, but they are in a business that someone has to be in not for convenience or transportation, but for survival. That earns certain protections, in my eyes.

4. Provides a disincentive for needed innovations. If a doctor is constantly worried about being sued, they'll take the most cautious route and provide less fodder for lawsuits when they try "untested" remedies.

5. If given a choice between doctors or lawyers, I'll take the doctor every time. Lawyers are in the business of creating conflict and therefore are more likely to create conflict when there doesn't need to be than doctors. If a doctor doesn't want to be a successful doctor, he likely won't go through the trouble. With trial lawyers, if one lawsuit fails, they can try another.

6. It provides a natural disincentive to file frivolous lawsuits. If you don't think you really have a case, you might file a lawsuit if you think there's just the off-chance that you'll get a multi-billion dollar settlement. Without that dangling carrot, a lot of lawyers at least will be a lot more selective about what cases they take on.

7. The last and most basic reason: I don't want doctors leaving our state. That's happening and that's got to stop. Even if the court system does a good job of weeding out frivolous suits, every time a lawsuit is filed, it costs the insurance companies a certain amount of money.


In addition to these reasons to be in favor of it, I find the reasons to be opposed to it lacking. Not just ideologically, but practically as well.

Argument Against: Those malpractice insurance companies are just taking advantage of the situation and padding their coverage rates to physicians to make more money.

Even if we accept that insurance companies only care about the bottom line, then it doesn't seem to logically flow that they'd both be padding their rates and be in favor of doing away with the lawsuits that allow them to do so.

If you were a bottom-liner at an insurance company and you realized that as long as these lawsuits persist, you (a) drive out potential competition and (b) can jack as much as you want from the doctors, wouldn't you be against anything that would take this situation out of your control? In other words, if they're making money off it, they would at least be more silent on the issue instead of being loudly in favor of it.

Secondly, if the doctors are being ripped off, then why don't they take their business elsewhere? Not a whole lot of places to go, from what I hear. If they're guilty of price-fixing, then they should be held accountable. Given how passionately most doctors feel on this issue, that isn't their take on the issue and I don't feel more qualified than they are to counter them.

It's quite probable that the reason that rates have gone up so high so quickly is rooted as much in the fear of these lawsuits than in actual settlements. If that's the case (as opposed to the Evil Insurance Company theory), then this will allay their fears and rates will come back down.

It will also allay the fears of anyone hoping to jump into the business, who now are less inclined to because of the lawsuits.

Argument Against: The malpractice insurance companies are covering the wrong people. Right now X% (low percentage) of doctors are causing Y% (high percentage) of the problems. If insurance companies were really interested in safety, they'd just stop covering these reckless doctors. Did you read about Doctor Z who has a such-and-such percent malpractice rate?

The logical conclusion to this argument is that they don't want to drop these doctors because they don't want to lose their money. Except, of course, that these errant doctors are actually costing them money in hand-outs.

If so many of the lawsuits are the product of only a small percentage of the doctors, then I don't understand why they're still covered at all. That said, to the extent that this is the problem, the lack of medical malpractice tort reform has done nothing to address this issue so functionally it's neither here nor there, except in an effort to paint the insurance companies as evil, evil, evil... except it's actually just calling them incompetent.

Argument Against: It should be up to the courts to determine settlements and not the legislature.

I've never seen liberals so intent on true seperation of powers in my entire life. Next thing you know they'll be arguing that Bush's national drive for medical malpratice lawsuit reform is wrong because it should be "left to the states" in their only recorded favoring of state's rights since medical marijuana.

More seriously, I've seen conservatives with better records on these issues making the same argument. I just don't see this as so dangerous to the seperation of powers that opposition to it can realistically be framed as "Save the courts."

Remember how everyone thought it was silly when we the congressional cafeteria started calling french fries by the name of "freedom fries"?

Yeah, I thought that was kinda silly, too. While they'd perhaps more accurately be dubbed "Belgian Fries" it doesn't quite roll off the tongue and, besides, no one knows what freedom fries or belgian fries are. If I saw it in a cafeteria, I'd assume that the freedom fries are dyed french fries in red, white, and blue. Ewwww, no thanks. I'd assume that belgian fries have some sort of wacky belgian sauce on them.

French fries are french fries.

In any case, Susanna points out that the French are asking the WTO to prevent American cheese makers from using French names for the cheese:

They're cheesed off in Wisconsin over a European scheme to ban foreigners from using popular cheese names like feta, Parmesan and Gorgonzola.
Europeans claim that certain products are part of their heritage, and next week they will ask world trade officials for exclusive rights to 13 cheese names...

And it's not just cheese. Europeans want to require that any wine called bordeaux come from France's Bordeaux, or it must be called something else. Same with Chianti, Champagne, Beaujolais and Parma ham.

Europeans have argued to the WTO that they are tired of foreign products "free riding on the reputation" of European originals.

Were we "free-riding" with the name French Fries? Personally, I assume that if I'm buying parmesan cheese that it's coming from Wisconsin or some other cheese-producing state and not France.

The obvious answer, it seems to me, would be to start renaming what is essentially the same thing. It would have the double effect of pleasing the French (if one considers that a positive) and using less French terms in our illustrious land!

If only they'd objected to french fries, then we'd have saved ourselves a bit of congressional pettiness!

Jim Henley takes issue with the notion that we should never forget 9/11. Well, to be more accurate, he draws a distinction between not forgetting and dwelling.

I don't disagree with a distinction being made, though I do disagree with the notion of blogs abound remembering in their own way some form of "dwelling"... nor do I think newspapers and people across the country taking time out from their lives to remember on its anniversary qualifies as "obsessing" over it.

Twice a year, I make a trip to a cemetary in League City to visit the gravesight of a friend of mine who died in August of 2000. He's been dead longer than the 9/11 victims have and he's only one person.

Am I obsessing? Should I just let him be dead so that I can go on and think about my job hunt, love life, and so on to prevent the aura of dwelling? Are the two extra days a year that I do so, his birthday and the day he died, so important that it's unhealthy to take a couple days out of my life to remember who he was and what he meant to me?

As it turns out, I don't know anyone personally that died in the September 11 attacks. I don't live in the area so I have no real gravesight to go to nor do I have any particular memories of any of the victims.

That doesn't change the fact, however, that roughly three thousand people went to work that day and never came home. Many were killed instantly, some had to plunge to their own deaths because they couldn't take the heat anymore. Others went in to help and never came out.

Every one of those people had friends, family, and other loved ones. None of them joined the military, "knew the risks", or even necessarily cared about current events or even less foreign policy. They just went to work to feed themselves and their families.

I don't have to know them to mourn them. Nor is it beyond reason to take a moment, on the anniversary of the event, to sit back and reflect, mourn, and be thankful that I'm still here as are the loved ones that haven't died somewhere else along the way.

One day a year.

There are, of course, those that carry the banner year around. They have bumper stickers on their car that have been there for the last two years. While I don't take those steps, I'm rather reluctant to criticize them for dealing with it in their own way.

It won't be this day indefinitely and memorances will become further in between. Right now, though, there are widows and widowers who still don't date, kids growing up without their parents, and a big whole where the two tallest buildings in our country used to be.

I don't have to know any of them personally to keep it in my heart, nor do we have to be obsessed for not completely letting it go.

[link via Off The Kuff]

[NOTE: For reasons I can't quite articulate, observations are closed on this post and the below is a true story, to the best of my recollection, to my testimony as a candidate for a capital punishment trial in May of this year. Here is the permalink]


The prosecutor looked at me suspiciously. I suppose that he had every reason to, as he and his associate had determined me amongst the enemies in this trial. It was a capital murder case and I'm against the death penalty.

He'd grilled me for five long minutes to try to get me to admit that I couldn't be fair. If he succeeded in this, that would be one less person he'd have to strike later and one more assurance that the defendant, a serial killer, would get off. But over and over again I said that though I disagree with the laws regarding capital punishment, I would abide by them if selected as a juror.

When I was first selected, they had me fill out approximately twenty pages of questions. The most conspicuous was my opposition to capital punishment, but when that failed, he moved on to what he saw as another vulnerability.

"You were against the war in Kosovo, Mr. Whitlock. Why?" he asked.

"I didn't believe that it was in our national interest to intervene," I answered.

"Do you consider yourself against war?"

"Not uniformly. It depends on what we're fighting for," I explained. I couldn't hear his next question over my coughing, so I asked him to repeat it.

"People were dying by the busloads over there. Yet you'd rather see people die than go to war? Is it because you didn't want blood on our nation's hands?"

The defense objected and accused the prosecution of leading me. I thought it was interesting because it was my assumption that this sort of thing only happened on TV. In real life, I thought they went up to the judge and voiced their objections. Not so, apparently.

The objection was sustained.

"Let me rephrase. Do you believe that violence in response to violence is morally wrong?"

"It depends. The question in my mind is whether or not the violence serves a useful end - I mean, whether or not it accomplishes what we want it to accomplish and whether or not we want to accomplish the right things."

"I see. Yet despite the fact that our actions in Kosovo saved many lives, you still oppose it?"

"I did at the time, yes."

"What about now?"

"Now there is no war in Kosovo, sir."

"What about the Persian Gulf? Did you oppose that?"

"The first one? I was too young to have an opinion of it."

"What about the current one?"

"I am in favor of it."

"What's the difference?"

I was almost drawn in to a prolonged explanation of the difference between getting into a war for national security and getting into one for humanitarian reasons, but I stopped myself.

I remember watching the presidential debates for the 2000 elections. When Bush said that he was going to either get the inspectors back in or go to war trying, I was hoping that it was just talk.

I didn't see much of a reason for going to war against Iraq. Nor, for that matter, did I see much reason to go to war against Sudan or Afghanistan to get Osama bin Laden.

Bin Laden was, of course, a threat to America. However, I figured he was something of a minor one. A bomb here and an ambush there. Just enough to rally the troops and ensure his status as The Guy Against America.

For bin Laden, or Saddam Hussein for that matter, to nuke a city or cause any substantial damage would be a death warrant. Surely they knew better than that. It was my opinion that whether either one of them had nukes or not, they were smarter than to gain the wrath of nearly every man, woman, and child in this country.

Of course, time has proven that estimation wrong. I have no great or grand story about Where I Was When The World Stopped Turning. I was awoken by Elciem who called me; I watched television; I went on a road trip to Waco as I'd already planned to.

I was angry and I was scared, but so were most of us. It wasn't until a couple days later that it all began to really sink in.

I'd opposed going to war against bin Laden.

I'd opposed going to war against the Serbs.

I'd opposed further military action in Iraq. I even thought we should lift the sanctions.

Why? Because I didn't want to make any waves. I didn't want to give foreigners yet one more reason to hate us. If we ignore them, fight with the Clinton policy of "proportional response," and just let them be, they can hate us all they want, but they surely won't attack us.

I look back and I wonder how I could have thought that. Yet it was that prevailing belief that kept Clinton's attacks on the region minimal. He, like me, didn't want to make any waves.

But we didn't have to. Our waves are the airwaves, all over the world. It's American culture, and it's invading the world. This, in their warped mind, is merely them fighting back. What we haven't been fighting with tanks and airplanes, we've been doing by being so loud, proud, and most importantly, successful.

Take away the first two and they'll still hate us. Our way works. We are prosperous and we are strong. As long as we are these things, they will feel the need to prove their strength trying to poke our eye.

When I was in junior high, I was an easy mark for would-be bullies. Not only was I not very aggressive, but I was big. Interestingly, the most pesky were often the smallest. There was one extremely small kid named Justin Harrell who gave me endless grief. Justin, and others, wanted to prove their toughness by making the biggest guy (ie me) cower.

I was 6' tall and 260 lbs. I didn't have to do or say anything to get their attention. I was hard to miss. There was nothing I could do to make myself short enough for them to leave me alone.

It has become cliche to say that our beleaguered regional foes hate us for our success, but it remains true. It goes beyond their wishing they had our material wealth to the point that, absent that, they just wish we didn't have it. Or perhaps they like that we have it because then they can prove how strong they are by "standing up" to us.

Regardless, September Eleventh proved that there was no limit to how far they would go in that regard. When I finally challenged Justin Harrell, he backed off. He knew I could just jump on him and crush his puny little frame. However stupid, he was rational.

Osama bin Laden isn't rational. Or maybe he was and had made the determination that the US was a paper tiger who'd just lay down and take it. It's impossible to say, but now we have a little more insight into how their minds work. If we did something wrong, it was by failing to demonstrate our resolve and, more importantly, it was by being successful.

Like my 6' junior high self, we are too big to merely slink out of sight. The "do no evil" approach of the Clinton administration (with a few bombing exceptions here and there) has proven to be a failure.

Unlike many of my Republican brethren, I do not hold Clinton responsible for what happened. He was merely executing the will of the people. He was only doing what we wanted.

What I wanted.

I was right-of-center on September 10, 2001. I was proud to be an American, supported our military men and women. However, when push came to shove, on foreign affairs I was somewhere to the left of center. With the exception of humanitarian adventures and Israel, I would be agreeing with most of what Howard Dean has to say.

The terrorists hoped to send us a message the next day, and it worked. If someone says that they want to destroy us, then by heavens we have to assume that's true. We can no longer assume rationality or weakness on their part.

When we went to war against the Taliban, I didn't think it would be as successful as quickly as it was. To be honest, I thought it could drag on indefinitely. With immensely more clarity than before, though, I saw it as a war worth fighting.

It wasn't about Arabian oil or cleaning up a foreign civil war, it was about defending our country. It was a war worth fighting because it was the first step in fighting a war to make sure that America would perservere because America is worth fighting for.

To their credit, most liberals and Democrats agreed. I view Iraq as an extention of that war, and that's where many (most?) Democrats and I part company. Honest and earnest minds differ on the subject and I believe, for the most part, those on both of the sides of that debate and the ones to come have our nation's best interest at heart.

I supported Iraq primarily for one reason. It wasn't for cheaper oil or even humanitarian reasons. It was the weapons of mass destruction. The major conflicts have been over for a couple of months now and we still haven't found any. My support for the war, however, hasn't wavered.

Whether the weapons were disposed of in the run-up to the war or whether Saddam was lying or lied to, there was in my mind credible reason to believe that he was trying to develop these weapons. Not just because of President Bush's comments, but Bill Clinton's and the concessions of many opponents of the war.

Wherever they are, and if they ever were, Saddam wanted us to believe that he had them. Whether to instill fear in his people or prove his might, he pulled what may have just been a watergun on us that we had little reason to doubt was the real thing. The last person to make such threats was bin Laden, and I wasn't listening.

Well I am now. I don't want to wait until some city is blown sky-high or some base in the region is gassed with thousands of casualties before we take action that could have prevented it. I don't want to have to explain to my children how there used to be a city called Seattle and it's not there anymore because we depended on the rationality and good faith of madmen.

There are a lot of other trouble spots in the world. There's Iran and Syria and, most of all, North Korea. If President Bush (or Kerry or H.R. Clinton) makes the determination that they must be confronted, I will stand behind them, whatever my doubts on their leadership capabilities. I may fear the worst, but I will hope for the best and pray for it.

Right now North Korea is the most troubling issue and I'll be honest and say that I don't know what we should do about it. Negotiation has failed, conflict may exacerbate the problem. They either have nukes or are bluffing. I honestly hope that we can resolve this issue peaceably, but I will support other alternatives.

But I won't pit one threat against the others in the name of doing nothing. Nor will I assume that if we don't rock the boat, everything will be okay.

We're too tall to slouch out of sight.

The Prosecutor said nothing in my momentary silence. Perhaps he was hoping I'd recuse myself. "September 11th, sir. It changed my opinions on a lot of things," I answered.

Proof that some Texans will endure any hardship to return to their home land:

On Saturday, Billy Ray Thomas, a driver for Pilot Air Freight, picked up the crate at Dallas-Fort Worth Airport and delivered it to McKinley's parents' home in suburban DeSoto.

When Thomas went to unload the 350-pound crate from his truck, he saw a pair of eyes and thought there was a body inside.

Then McKinley broke the box open and crawled out, said police Lt. Brian Windham. McKinley's mother was stunned. The delivery driver called police.

DeSoto police said the crate measured 42 inches by 36 inches by 15 inches. McKinley stands5-foot-8 and weighs 170 pounds, authorities said.

Or that some Texans are unbelievably stupid...

His box was carried in the pressurized, heated cabins, but could just as easily have been placed in the lower, unpressurized holds, said Richard Phillips, chief executive of Pilot Air Freight.

"He could easily have died," Phillips said.

The freight cost -- billed to McKinley's employer -- was $550. At that rate, "he could have flown first-class," Phillips said.

Kevin Drum reprints a really interesting article in the Harvard Business Review about the ethical and commercial quandary of employee blogging.

It's a bit long, but well worth your time to read.

A few basic observations about blogging in the workplace:

If you're not pseudononymous and you even so much as mention your companies name and talk about your day at work, you seriously need to reconsider.

If you say anything remotely negative (even in a humorous light) about your company, and you name yourself and your company, you're asking to get fired.

For my part, I have told a few anecdotes about work, but I've never mentioned my old company's name. Even now, though I harbor hard feelings towards my former employer, I will not divulge their name.

I consider myself a low-security blogger, meaning that I probably do not put as many safeguards to protect my identity as I should. At various times, I've considered ceasing blogging and popping up with a pseudonym elsewhere to heighten my level of security. The give-and-take between using my real name, mentioning where I live, went to school, etc. and what to tell about my line of work and whether or not to mention any stories relating to work are tough issues. Whether or not I should talk about my job when everyone knows who I am and who I work for all the while giving an accurate (which is to say never entirely complimentary) picture of my workplace is not a tough issue.

As for the scenario mentioned in the article:

It seems to me the biggest issue here isn't even the blog, despite whatever business it is bringing to and from the company. The biggest issue is that this has been going on and the blogger is a big damn deal, and no one thought to inform the CEO of what was going on. That kind of breakdown in communication is the most serious issue facing the company and has probably caused more problems than the blogger could ever dream of.

The scenario reads like an infomercial:

"Wait," Evan said. He got on-line and went to her Web log. "Check this out. She's in the health club blogging. There must be a terminal there."

"You can blog anywhere?"

"Yep. The blogging interfaces reside on Internet servers for the most part, not on your computer. Some people do wireless blogging. Some do audio blogging with a cell phone. Hey, read this.

I guess it has to, but it felt odd reading it.

As for what I would do: Let the girl go be hired by that other company. Set-up immediate guidelines for what can and cannot be mentioned on the Internet with appropriate disclaimers.

I would want that woman out of my company for poor judgment more than anything else. Things that ought to be a no-brainer, such as putting a typical "The opinions expressed do not represent those of my employer" seem to have eluded her.

What I found most interesting was the blythe way that the panel of experts handled the issue. Two of the three were pro-blogging, which I would not expect so much. The first person even suggested that the company set up blogs on their website.

That's insane!

By hosting the blog and by acknowledging (even endorsing!) the blogger's thoughts on work-related issues smacks of unprofessionalism (I wouldn't want any woman talking about her dating life on my company website) at best and, at worst, opens the door for some rather unfortunate lawsuits. Far best to steer clear altogether.

The second fellow had more of the right idea. He recognized that blogging can be a tool for the company, but also set up some guidelines that anyone could understand so that they can reign anyone in, if need-be. I don't know if I would be as liberal on the idea as he is (and I'm a blogger!), but he at least approaches the situation logically, instead of from the "blogs-will-save-the-universe" perspective of the first guy.

The last guy was probably overly skeptical of blogs, but that's probably where I would be. He also points out the breakdown in communication. The weakest point of his thoughts on the matter is the notion that "you can have blogs, just don't let them act like blogs" and have everyone from the legal to the marketing departments okay everything before it's posted.

Kinda defeats the purpose. Then again, the purpose of blogging (freeflow of information) and the interest of the company (a well-honed message and professional appearence) are often at odds. That's something I think that most of the commenters on Drum's post missed.

[Found via Lex, who is surprisingly more dynamist on this subject than I]

I am renegging on my pledge to never use Blogger again. Fear not, RAW360 is staying put with Nucleus, but I am also going to be posting on No-Lyfe Journal again.

I plan to talk to Adam soon about getting NLJ switched off of Blogger. There are also a couple more writers who may be contributing, so things will start being more active over there in the near future.

In the meantime, go check out the many ways that I am psychotic.

You're Iceland!

Most people think you're a cold and forbidding person, but
you're actually naturally warm and inviting.  People just get scared off
by what other people have led them to believe about you.  You keep to yourself
for the most part, and are pretty good at fending for yourself, especially if
water's involved.  More people should visit you and find out the truth.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

Oh yeah, it's also because I have now decided that I do get into arguments about little things. It's the only thing that keeps me from being... [Read More!]

Last Saturday I saw Owen Temple play. I'll sing the praises of Temple thuroughly at another point, but I wanted to more immediately comment on the opening act: Matt Davis.

The boy has got talent and I recommend that those of you in Texas Country circles keep an eye on this guy. I first saw him play as a substitute for the last Mike McClure & Great Divide Houston show, and I couldn't get in to him because I was so disappointed not to see TGD.

Kevin saw Davis play with his former band (I can't remember the name offhand) and had good things to say about it (for one thing, he played a Skynyrd song that was not Freebird. Always a plus).

He has the novelty of being the only country artist I've seen with an eyebrow ring that doesn't come across as some sort of "it thing" wannabee. Picture Kurt Kobain crossing Jack Ingram and you get a general idea of what the guy looks like.

Davis has a knack for songwriting and a good eye for covers, particularly for Skynyrd, where he's played Tuesday's Gone and All I Can Do Is Write About It, who of my favorite Skynyrd tunes. But I generally am not interested in cover acts, and Davis is not one. I really liked what I heard of his songs.

His web site should be here soon enough.

Kevin sings the praises of Front Page Football, which he apparently used to love to death.

Unlike most PC football games that featured pinpoint joystick control of a quarterback/receiver or running back, FPSFP was a strategic simulation (which also had killer graphics). You drafted a team, you formulated a game plan, you could design your own plays, you could call plays yourself or let the computer do it according to percentages defined in a game plan, you could trade players, players would get injured, they would age (and retire) each season, career stats were accumulated. It was a COOL game.

I've never seen it, but I am familiar with Front Page Baseball. Fellow No-Lyfer (and my college roommate) Adam Taylor runs a league for it, in fact!

I've been a participant in the league with my Hagerstown Jets team for some time. Unfortunately, I don't spend as much time trading and rearranging line-ups like others do, but for those who want to be the GM, it's a great game for that.

One thing that I (unsurprisingly) do is creative press releases for my team. Though Hagerstown is a real place, I have my own set of citizens and so forth. That probably annoys the living heck out of those that are there to play, but it's the primary fun that I derive from the league. Of course, I haven't done that in a while, either...

I'm such a slob!

In any case, Kevin points out a new game that picks up where FrontPage Football left off. Looks pretty cool.

I used to have a few teams set up on John Madden Football for the IIe. I meticulously set up a league that I promptly did little with. Setting everything up, plopping teams down on a map, giving them mascots, and designing their uniforms was fun. After that, it became work.

My real league history came some time before that on the wild-and-crazily named "Computer Baseball" game for the Apple IIe. It was the first game that we'd run across that let you create teams. My brother set up a league on it where he, Frank, myself, and Moe drafted entire teams and then designed the rosters.

The league was based on 1986 baseball statistics. To this day, I can remember which teams were mine (California, Chicago Cubs, Los Angeles, Seattle, and Texas) and many of who owned what. In a fiercely debated subject, two different people claimed to have picked the Astros (who were not only the home team, but won the pennant that year) and ultimately both of them got them, so we had two Nolan Ryans, two Mike Scotts, and so on.

I know more about the 1986 baseball season than I do about the entire decade of the 1990's.

Eventually we got Earl Weaver's Baseball, which was a lot more impressive. It had different fields for each team. Statistics against both right and left hand pitchers and batters, player ratings, and a whole lot of other things. Unfortunately, in the same way that Computer Baseball was skewed towards hitters, Earl Weaver's was skewed towards pitchers, which made games a lot less exciting.

Eventually I got Tony LaRussa's baseball, which was the end-all be-all of baseball games in my eyes.

With nothing left to the imagination (it, like FrontPage, created even fictional players and drafts), I quickly lost interest.

So anyway, the game Kevin points out looks interesting. I think a college version would be more fun... but then again, I'm more interested in the GM aspect than the coaching one and the higher turnover rate of college would make that part a lot more interesting.

Oh, and if you were wondering what the structural organization for this post is, I'll tell you:

It's the 1AM Underrested Organization Method.

Another thing that I watched this evening was Dr. Strangelove. For a movie without a whole lot of action where the story predominantly takes place in a committee room, it has a very high rewatchability factor. Chalk it up to hilarious dialogue and great acting.

James Earl Jones played a young, thin guy. That takes a huge amount of talent... :)

A long time ago, I commented on a specific episode of Growing Pains. I'd link to it, but blogspot is messing up, so I can't.

The general story is that young little Ben takes a liking to this musician named Jonathon Keith, who turns out to be something of an arsehole. I made a reference to it in regards to Steve Earle's exaltation of Johnny Walker Lindh on his then-new CD. The moral of the story was that if you go to concerts to hear the music, it doesn't matter so much what kind of person they are.

It's a good point to take, though I don't feel the need to force myself to feel the same way about the music when an artist does something that sours me to them. But the truly good artists, even when I know they're jerks or have outrageous political or moral philosophies, have music that endures to the point that I can ignore the personality singing them.

In any case, that's all an aside. The news is that I saw that episode again tonight, and Jonathon Keith was played by Brad Pitt, it turns out.

One of my schticks on the Old RAWbservations was to take those stupid MSN "lists" that their hacks come up with and have fun with them.

Apparently, Netscape's home page also has lists, but they're not nearly as stupid! Or at least this one isn't:

8 Questions Guys Fear

Good general rules of thumb for asking questions in my experience is:

Don't ask a partner a question that does not have at least the option of a good answer.

Don't ask a partner a question that he might as well answer with a coin flip, cause their's no way he could possibly know what you want to hear. This is especially true if you (a) haven't drilled the right answer into his thick skull and (b) will whale on about how "he doesn't understand [you]" because he can't remember the answer you mentioned, in passing, eleven months, fourteen days, six hours, and thirty-nine minutes ago.

Don't ask your partner what they want to do and then shoot down his first ten suggestions. If his judgment is that off-base, you should know it by now.

Good general rules of thumb for answering questions in my experience is:

The correct answer to "What do you want to do?" rarely involves beer, bait, or ammunition.

You know that saying about never answering a question with a question? Ignore it.

If you're gonna lie in an answer, make durn sure it's not a question she's going to ask again.

Keep ice stocked in the fridge for the inevitable ice pack for any questions involving the words "sex" or "fat".

While you're theories on what precisely constitutes "love" and you're interest in precisely what she means by the term may be quite fascinating and lead to a fruitful philosophical conversation, it is never to be found anywhere in the answer in the vicinity of questions involving relationship direction or emotional reciprocity.

The words "emotional reciprocity" and similar terms are never the answer to any question.

Netscape has a little thing for confessions for wild and crazy love (or love-making or just sex) you've done.

Her Boyfriend was the Best Man
I had been dating my fiancý for two years, when I found myself falling in love with another man at work. One night, while my fiancý was away on a business trip, I invited my co-worker over for a night of passionate love. After that night, I invited my friend over again and he and my fiancý became friends. Eventually, my fiancý invited him to our wedding as his best man. On my wedding night, my husband got a horrible cold and our honeymoon was delayed a few days. I decided I didn't to catch his cold and slept with my coworker once again. -Maureen, 28

Nice to know she respects the sanctity of marriage.

Of course, there's a good chance it's a hoax (not uncommon for this sort of thing)... except that I sure know some people who could just shrug this sort of thing off.

People are just wacky.

I'd just like to thank everyone for their kind words in regards to my break-in. It's been a rough weekend for a number of reasons, but it's good to have the kind of support that I get here.

Apparently, there is some sort of crime wave going on as Owen's wheels were jacked from his car. Sigh.

A bit of good news, though. I'm an idiot! I found my passcard today. It was weird, I looked everywhere for it yesterday... except on the footspace of the back seat apparently. Must have fallen out and slid there. I'm a dumbass, but a happy dumbass :).

Owen is preparing to take the LSAT and asks us to wish him the best. I certainly do!

Let me tell you a story.

Once there was this boy named Alex who made an ill-fated decision that he wanted to be a lawyer. He looked in to law schools and discovered that he had to take a test called the LSAT, which seemed something like the SAT, except for lawyers.

Knowing that he's not a good standardized test taker, he took this test more seriously than most. He talked to his friends Mark and Brent, both of whom were in law school, he figured that he wanted a score of 160 or so and that, combined with his GPA, would easily get him in to UH Law School and possibly even UT Law School.

So he studied like never before. He bought four different training and practice books (and in the process discovered how much better Rother's BookStore is than the UH official one. He recommends Rother's hardily to anyone who goes to the University of Houston, by-the-by).

So after studying vigorously for the LSAT, he signed up for the test and was given a date to take it. Alex worked a full-time overnight job, but more often than not if he really needed to, he could catch some rest.

Unfortunately, the night before the big test, and emergency popped up and he was up all night handling it. This meant that he had to go take the test having little to no sleep. Alex was underrested anyway and this put him over the edge.

During the LSAT, one of the most heavily timed tests in existence, Alex was dozing off. This was unhelpful, to say the least.

At the very end of the test, you can check a box so that you won't be scored (NOTE: unlike the SAT, they don't just take the highest LSAT score, they average them, so a bad score hurts you). Alex checked it off and decided that he'd take the night off before the big text.

So he geared up to take the test again. His practice scores were getting higher and higher, closer to his 160 goal.

Unfortunately, on the same day of the test was an "exam" for the physical education class he was taking. He begged and pleaded the teacher to allow him to take a raincheck and explained the LSAT situation. She was unmoved.

The test was the mile-and-a-half run and I - err, Alex - was informed that, given his low grades in that class (physical fitness was not his strongsuit. Still isn't, I hear), it would be difficult for him to pass if he didn't take the test.

So he went to class that morning and half-heartedly took the exam (so as to not exhaust himself too much), and spent half an hour resting and drinking some water to recover. Unfortunately, he started getting sleepy as he got on the road. He decided to stop off by the store and get some Gatoraid.

The good news is that Alex was not falling asleep during the test the second time around. The bad news is that he looked and felt like crap. The worse news is that he had a lot of trouble concentrating. The worst news is that he spent 75% of that test needing to take a trip to the john and average two trips to the john during every portion of the most heavily timed test he ever took.

That was the death knell in his plans for college. He fell eight points shy of his 160 goal and the luster of ambition had already wore off.

Epilogue:
Today, Alex is an unemployed professional computer nerd with seemingly unmarketable skills and a blog that he is very thankful that a number of people visit on a daily basis.

He is also considerably happier now than he would be if he were in law school.

I am almost certain that someone has stolen my apartment complex passcard to open the gates. I always put it in the same place (it's one of the few things I'm stone consistent about), and now it's gone.

I think one of my neighbors who lost theirs saw mine and reached in and took it.

On the bright side, I need to go talk to the apartment complex management anyway...

... we don't have running water.

UPDATE: They're aware of the lack of running water. They'll "get to it some time Monday or Tuesday." The main office, incidentally, is not affected.

Lost passcard is going to cost $50, plus I will have to sign a liability form in which I will be held responsible in case someone uses my card to do something naughty.

Not sure how that works. Speaking to a manager Tuesday.

The Dead End Angels were playing at the Hideaway last night, which turns out to be right down the street. It's a really neat venue with a decent sound system, friendly staff, and great food.

Not that I ate there, mind you.

Rather, posted abound were signs for various deals they had for meals. 16oz ribeye steak with the fixins for $10 Tuesday nights! All-you-can-eat burritos on Thursdays for something like $8 or $10 (can't remember exactly, but oh-so-tempting).

Unfortunately, two things they clearly lack are (a) a well-lit parking lot and (b) security.

This turned out to be somewhat important as when I got out of the show, my driver's side window had been punched out and my CD player stolen.

For those of you that know me, you'll know that this is not the first or second time this has happened.

To be fair, the first time I'd left the door to my car unlocked and so I can't feel too sorry for myself. Since then, I've made sure to start locking my doors.

The result?

Broken windows and more crap stolen. The only difference it seems to have made is now there's a $200 windshield replacement bill in addition to whatever was taken (this time a $200 CD player, last time $3000 including Christmas gifts, CDs, my CD player, and my state-of-the-art laptop computer.).

So what's the point in locking my door again?

Unfortunately, the way that the Ford Escort is set up, there is a singular console that takes care of both the music and air conditioning, so when they took the console (which itself is going to cost $30 to replace) to get the player, they also disabled my air conditioning until I get it replaced.

Before I get too down on everything, though, there are several bright spots to all this:

My laptop was not in the car last night. Friday nights I generally go out to see music and then instead of coming back to the apartment, I head down to Seabrook to have breakfast with Dad Saturday morning. Depending on how long I am going to be down there, Friday nights are when I am most likely to have the laptop in the car, but...

Even if it was in there, they might not have taken it because they actually didn't bother to take my CDs, which is the second good thing. Though after the previous two instances, all the CDs in my main sleeve were burned copies, I did have a small booklet of originals that they might have found if they looked long enough. (The reason for having two books is precisely so if they steal the first, they will assume that's it).

Only one original CD was stolen, which was in the player because I was planning to post a review of it here. At the very, very last minute, I decided to leave two other originals up here. These are originals that I do not have ripped, so that's very fortunate.

Paradoxically, emergency expendatures like this often save me money in the longer run. I put off buying a lot of things I'd previously planned. Trip to Georgia? Gone. CDRW for my laptop? Gone. New computer? Gone. All of this is worth more than was stolen, so I'm actually a bit ahead here, assuming I don't backtrack and get these things anyway.

So anyway, all is not lost.

Oh, and the reason I'm not going to go back to the Hideaway is not just because I was robbed there, it's because when I told the management about it, he used the words "again" and others denoting that this has happened before.

The Firehouse (which attracts large crowds) and the Mucky Duck (which doesn't so much) both have off-duty police officers posted to prevent this sort of thing from happening. While that may not be economical, mine was one of five cars broken in to last night and there is a saying I learned in business law class:

If you do something really well, you can expect your customer to tell an average of two people about it.

If you do something really poorly, you can expect your customer to tell an average of nineteen people about it.

I'm not sure how often this has happened, but it does seem to me that an unarmed security guard would probably have saved some customers' things and there were five or six cars that were broken in to, which makes for a total of 100 people that are going to hear about it.

The Dead End Angels were playing at the Hideaway last night, which turns out to be right down the street. It's a really neat venue with a decent sound system, friendly staff, great food, and no security whatsoever.

DEA was quite good, which is par the course. They have a great song catalogue including stuff off their debut CD "November", some of the rare Groobies tracks that DEA frontman Scott Melott got to sing for that band (and a couple that Susan Gibson sang on the record that Scott sings better - a post for a different day), and some new covers such as Wilco's "Passenger's Side" and some regular covers including Alejandro Escaveda's excellent "Last to Know."

He hit all the songs that I go to see them play, which he has every show thus far (one of the benefits of a group without fifty bazillion CDs out).

Some of the memorable tracks (in no particular order):

Old Boyfriend's Things - Originally a Scott-Groobies song. One of the best songs about breakups that I've heard to date. It deals with going through all the physical manifestations of someone that you loved and has left. It all comes together in the haunting refrain "When you talked about a daughter, did you pick out her name? Is it there with your old boyfriend's things?"

Almost Familiar - A DEA original tune about being the parent of daughters for the first time.

Wrecked and Beautiful - I always appreciate this song a lot more live than on CD. It's another about his twin daughters who were born at the weight of about a pound a piece. Very touching song.

If You Want It That Much - This song was originally recorded by The Great Divide and it quickly became a favorite from that CD and that was before I knew that Scott had a hand in writing it. It equates addiction to substances to addictions to lovers with astounding imagery and the story of a person that is drifting aimlessly and self-destructing in heart-break. Includes the priceless line "I make my guardian angel work harder than yours."

Wayside - Title track to a Groobies album and a decent Susan-Groobies song, Scott's voice lends a sincerity to it that Susan's more unctious voice unfortunately lacks. Sincerity is, in my view, more important than hitting exactly the right note in a song about not being perfect.

Last to Know - Originally an Alejandro Escaveda song, Scott's voice sounds more natural for the part of a joker who has found himself in love and hasn't found himself ready for it, and neither is she: "More miles than money, we fall in love and it's so funny... we're the last to know"

One thing that I like about DEA and the Texas Country/Americana movement in general is that they do a good job of making sure that not every song is about man-woman relationships. The Dead End Angels in particular have a wide array of songs about everything from having kids to love songs to songs about ailing relatives. It's a much needed change from the tampon demographic that much of the radio (country and otherwise) caters to these days.

Anyhow, check out their tour schedule and if you get a chance to see them, I hardily recommend that you do.

The Dead End Angels were playing at the Hideaway last night, which turns out to be right down the street. It's a really neat venue with a decent sound system, friendly staff, great food, and no security whatsoever.

I went with Kevin, Callie, John, Cathy and various co-workers of Kevin's. When I smoke, I try to be consciencious and since Callie is athsmic, I relocated to the back when I wanted to puff up.

Unfortunately, playing on the TV opposite of my new location was college football. One of the neater aspects of college football is that the league is so expansive that two teams can play each other and you can have fun with it because it's unlikely to have any affect whatsoever on teams that you care about.

So I was originally dispassionately watching as Scott and company were setting up between songs.

Before long, something started to bother me. I didn't know which team was which. One team was in red, what was in black, and it was Oregon St. vs. Fresno St. but I couldn't connect the two. The score was 14-13 Oregon St. and I had no idea which team that was. Fortunately, The Black Team had the ball on the ten yardline or so and was about the score.

If The Black Team scored, I reasoned, I'd know which team they were. So I started rooting for The Black Team to get a touchdown or field goal or something. They ended up going for the field goal and was blocked.

Dag nabbit!

Wait! A flag!

The coach of The Red Team was none too pleased by this. "None too pleased" because his defense barely held on to the lead or because his team had just stopped the other from taking it out of field goal range? This I did not know, but if The Black Team were to score, then I'd know!

Yay Black Team! Go Black Team!

The Black Team ended up using their second chance (and mile yard gainage off the penalty) to go for a touchdown that they failed to get.

Boo!!

The Red Team, getting the ball on the 1 yard line or so, barely escaped a couple safeties and The Black Team maintained field position dominance, so I continually rooted for them to score so I'd know who they were.

When I saw a member of The Black Team's coaching staff, he was wearing a cap with an "O" on it. "O" is for Oregon? Then, when they showed the score, they showed Oregon State with a black background and Fresno State with a red one. "Okay," I reasoned, "Oregon State is the black team. Whew. They're ahead by a point!"

Go Oregon State! Yay Oregon State!

During one of the sideline shots, I saw the Black Team's helmet logo, which looked like some sort of animal with the word "Bearkats" or "Bulldogs" underneath. So at the commercial break when I see that it's at Bulldog Stadium in Fresno, I think to myself "Oh, okay! Fresno State Bulldogs are in Black, and I'm rooting for them. They're behind 14-13, so I hope they score!!"

Yay Fresno State! Go Fresno State!!

Then, when the red team had the ball, I could have sworn that the TV said "Bulldogs offense on third downs" when it showed some statistics. Then, the more I looked at the white animal on the red helmet, the more it looked like a dog of some sort.

Go Oregon State I think! Yay Oregon State I think!

"Argh! I know I'm rooting for The Black Team, but I don't know if I want them to run down the clock or they need to score. So I know who I'm rooting for, I just don't know what I'm rooting for..."

The Red Team eventually scored a last-minute 47-yard field goal and the score became 16-14, Fresno State.

So I found out which team I was rooting for (Oregon State) at the precise minute that they lose the lead.

Just my luck.

RAW360 is experiencing temporary difficulties. Will be fixed in the next half-hour or so.

Greg Wythe has the scoop:

A few things struck me right from the start. Michael Berry, who is trailing in fundraising, came out much harder on his outsider pitch than I seem to recall hearing before. He's on board with all of Bill White's pledges, for instance, yet likely because he's realizing that he doesn't have to worry much about insider support or significant PAC money. White doesn't have that to worry about either, but only because he's got a better rolodex and a fair amount of personal wealth. Both struck a theme that Houstonians should decide who the mayor should be, not people in Austin or elsewhere. That's naturally a shot at Turner and Sanchez. Since Sanchez wasn't there to fend for himself, it was up to Turner to proclaim that he is more worried about monied interest deciding this election. That was a direct shot at White, and perhaps an indirect shot (or at least a glancing blow) at Sanchez.

Well worth the read!

"And what we say is the truth is what everybody accepts. Right, Owen? I mean, psychiatry: it's the latest religion. We decide what's right and wrong. We decide who's crazy or not. I'm in trouble here. I'm losing my faith." Dr. Kathryn Reilly, 12 Monkeys

In the last couple days, I've run across two interesting articles dealing with psychology and religion and the conflict between them.

The first deals with fundamentalists and their ongoing relationships with the secular psychiatrists. It's been bumpy:

In a recent journal article, social work doctoral fellow David K. Hodge castigated his social workers, by far the majority of practicing psychotherapists, for discriminating against evangelicals. Hodge cited studies that showed that the majority of Americans (25 percent of whom call themselves evangelical Christians) believe in a personal God, while social workers, on the whole, do not. The majority of social workers professed liberal political values while evangelicals hold conservative ones. In Hodge's eyes, these and other differences fuel a bias among social workers against evangelicals that is played out in the therapy room as well as in the halls of academia.

What's ironic in this discrimination is that social workers are taught to be sensitive to diversity as a basic skill, and inclusivity is invoked with mantra-like frequency. This regard for other cultural viewpoints seems to crumple, however, when it runs up against a view that they regard as intolerant. "Evangelicals see Jesus as the only way," says Hendricke Vande Kemp, a psychologist in private practice in Virginia who taught in the Fuller program for many years. "There's a subtle inference," she says, "that 'Ours is the right religion.'"

It reminds me a bit of an episode of South Park I saw recently, which had a "Museum of Tolerance" that sought to teach everyone to accept everyone else's "life choices" be it homosexuality or obesity. That is until they saw a smoker outside, to which they all shouted the equivalent of "Leper! Leper!!"

Secular (and particularly atheistic) psychologists are put in something of a peculiar position. In one sense, they're quite right that the tenet to most religions is "We're right, they're wrong." (ironically it is also true of atheists, but that's a different post)

But in discounting someone's spiritual beliefs, psychologists appear to be more interested in being right than in being helpful. As any psychologist ought to know, there is no cure-all for any mental or emotional ailment. The logical conclusion of that, at least in my mind, is that you shouldn't assume that healing can't start until they get rid of those pesky religious beliefs.

That said, if the psychologist does not believe or outright rejects someone's religious beliefs, it is difficult for them to wear a different religious hat in order to appeal to each client's sensibilities. Besides being tough, it's also a bit disingenuous.

The cure, it would seem to me, is for there to be more religious psychologists out there. Unfortunately, that's rather difficult when a number of religions and sects are openly hostile to admitting that loving Jesus even more may not be the cure to every problem.

Belleruth Naparstek, an author and social worker who leads guided imagery training seminars, says she often sees the mutual bias in action. Naparstek is acutely aware that conservative Christian fiercely resist the therapeutic and educational benefits of guided imagery, used to manage stress and enhance learning. They brand it as "the work of the devil--Satanic and terrible," she says.

While I sincerely doubt most of the objectors phrased it in such stark terms, there is that element to a number of religions. The Christian Scientists get in trouble with child protective services because they won't allow their kids to get medical help for their problems, for instance.

My former boss was a member of a fundamentalist Christian denomination and one of my many jobs was to edit his religious tract. Among the beliefs of this somewhat prominant (at least here in Texas) denominations was to forsake civil institutions for problems with anyone within the church.

This kind of attitude, and the shutting out of all secular aid, leads to a cultish mentality that leaves those within it that need help beyond religious instruction in the lurch.

People often have a tendency to mentality move in circles. They think one thing, which leads to another, which leads to another, which leads back to the first. The introduction to new ideas, be they philosophical or otherwise, can often tilt the axis just so, allowing people to see things in a new light.

It reminds me of a story I read that took place around the time Galileo was on trial for his earth-is-round theory. Several mariners sought out the Pope and explained that Galileo's theories actually helped them navigate the waters considerably. The Pope told them that they could use it so long as they never believed in it.

Time has, of course, indicated that Galileo was right, but that's somewhat beside the point. When dealing with matters of emotional conflict, there are no intrinsically right answers. If something works, there may be a million different reasons why that's the case and even if the psychologist in question believes it's because of neurons firing a certain way or some theory by some iconic atheist psychologist, it doesn't mean that their reasoning is sound. What matters is that it works.

I often deal with my conflicts by trying out several "truths" and seeing which one fits. Sometimes I will write out several versions of the same event. I will go through theories that I am cursed or that God hates me, which is of course contrary to my Christian beliefs. But only by confronting these ideas can I determine that they aren't true and often on the path to these outright false conclusions, I will determine a nugget of truth. Or, I will determine that even if I were cursed or God did hate me (neither of which I believe), it is then up to me to regain God's favor (or the favor of rightiousness or whatever) and do good things, and it is up to me to summon all the strenghts I have in order to be a stronger and better person.

I could not have been told these things, I needed to work through them myself. That's what a great deal of psychology is. Most of them won't tell you what to do, but will stand back and help you sort things out on your own.

To move away from Christianity for a moment, the second article regarding faith and psychiatry deals with Scientologists:

The contract — called the "Agreement and General Release Regarding Spiritual Assistance" — makes it clear that the signee does not believe in psychiatry and does not want to be treated for any kind of psychiatric ailment should one befall him.

Instead, once the paper is signed, the agreement calls for the Church of Scientology to step in if there's ever a problem. The result would be total isolation and constant surveillance.

As it turns out, I have read the first half of L. Ron Hubbard's What Is Scientology?.

What I find remarkable about it is how insightful it is on the ideas of human development and interpersonal communication. It's enough that, even though I've rejected the religion, some day I'd like to go back and read the rest.

The fact that it is so remarkable also makes it so sad, because somehow the same religion that puts out this book is the same one that is one of the most lousy, controlling, and draconian religions that I've ever seen (and during my agnosticism, I read up on a number of them).

While I think that most religions would prefer to deal with things internally, and most churches believe that they have all the answers, Scientology takes it to new lows:

The wording of the agreement is shocking, to say the least. If a member of the church becomes what we might call "mentally incompetent," he automatically agrees to be placed in the care of Scientology counselors, potentially barring family, friends or anyone else from interceding, including doctors and psychiatrists.

The new agreement seems to stem from a long-simmering wrongful-death lawsuit brought by the estate of Lisa McPherson against the Church of Scientology.

It alleges that McPherson died in 1995 after being held against her will by the church for 17 days. When she died, it is claimed, her body was covered with cockroach bites and McPherson was dehydrated.

By having members sign the contact agreeing to be isolated from family and medical professionals, the church apparently believes it would be immune to such lawsuits. The lawsuit, which has suffered several postponements, may come to trial in 2004.

I consider myself very pro-religion even when dealing with a religion whose beliefs I do not share.

I also believe that religion is where the search for Truth begins, which puts me at odds with the Scientologists and a number of Christian sects. I believe that the Bible is a wise book full of colorful illustrations to help us lead a good and moral life. But I also believe that the Bible, as with any finite piece of work, does not explain everything.

To take the lessons that are in the Book and apply them to life requires a lot of soul searching and using the intuition and intellect that God gave us.

Those that read me or know me will attest that I am not a moral relativist and I frequently lament the blurring of right and wrong and the rationalizations that so many use to justify their wrong-doing. In fact, more often than not people call me too rigid and uncompromising.

That said, there are many rights and there are many wrongs in any given situation, and there are a number of right paths one can take. Life is more than just a series of hoops we have to jump through. It's more like a maze where we are often left to figure out what is and is not the right way.

As Heckraiser Joe says in No-Lyfe's feature The Adjusters, "There's a reason that the book ended where it did."

I ran across this neat demonstration about good flags and bad ones. Texas ranks #2!

Mike Ahlf has done his predictions on the mayor's race and higher offices in response to mine.

One minor correction: Orlando Sanchez isn't the only Republican in the race. The other one is Michael Berry.

Oh, and I think it'll be a cold day in Hades when the Democrats in California are ever doomed, regardless of who wins the recall vote.[*] (I still don't believe Bush will win California, though)

In other news, Adam has an interesting link to a web site with weird looking bunnies.

Emily Jones takes a shot at those calling Queer Eye for the Straight Guy offensive to gays. Michael Duff gives a full-throttle review of the series.

Michael Williams likes girls. I was more fascinated with feminine interaction in my youth than I am now. A slight majority of my friends are female which comes with both the good (they're there when you need them) and not-so-good (treading water through each and every one of their crises).

Michael and Kevin both take notice that Universal Records is lowering their CD prices significantly. Universal is the same company that signed Pat Green, Cross Canadian Ragweed, Bob Schneider, and Blue October (twice, even). I'm going to have to poke further into their stable. They seem to be the only one out there that knows what they're doing!

Kevin also has a good review of the Scott Miller show we went to last night. I enjoyed it muchly and have had one of his songs stuck in my head all day. That boy definitely needs to move to Texas.

Coming soon on these pages: The Problem, thoughts on the record industry, two CD reviews, and oh-so-much more!

From an Alabamian:

A man in California is talking with his preacher when he notices a phone that has sign that says 'To talk to God $10,000.' The man asks about it and the preacher says yes it works and all churches have it. The man is skeptical and begins to travel around to see if this is true. He goes to Nevada and Utah and to New York and most everywhere. He finds that, yes, there is a phone to call God for $10,000 in every church he finds. When he got to Alabama however the sign read 'Talk to God 35c.' Surprised, he asks the preacher why only 35 cents when everywhere else it's $10,000. The preacher gives him a funny look and says 'Boy, don't you know you're in Alabama? It's a local call.'

Reminds me of a joke told to me by a German tour guide, when he found out my family was from Texas:

A German was touring Texas when he made the aquaintance of a millionaire oil man. The oil man invited him to a party he was having that night at his mansion. When he arrived, he said, "Wow! Dis place is huuuuuuuge!"

"Well," he was told, "Everything's bigger in Texas."

When they all sat down to eat, he took a look at the steak. "Dis is the biggest steak I have ever seen!!"

The person sitting next to him leaned over and said, "You know, everything is bigger in Texas."

After drinking a couple Texas-sized beers, he asked where the toilets were. Someone pointed the way down the hallway and said "take the third right."

The German got up and stumbled into the hallway, tripping over himself a couple of times and losing count of how many doors he had passed. Just to be safe, he started with 1 again.

He entered the room with the indoor swimming pool and accidentally stumbled in to the water.

"Wow!" He exclaimed, "everything IS bigger in Texas!"

This was originally going to be a comment on Perverse Access Memory regarding a post by Ted Barlow on Crooked Timer, but I felt it better to post here as a follow-up to The Other Secessionists.

I think that the Texas GOP platform is more than fair game for Democrats to go on the attack.

I'd also say that it's one thing to find loonier planks on a platform and another to use a group's charter and the core reason for its existence to denounce that group. MEChA isn't a civil rights group that happens to believe a weird thing; it's a group that was founded on the principle of Aztlan independence. It would be one thing if this was a plank on MALDEF's platform, but MEChA isn't MALDEF.

The real weakness to the argument Republicans are putting forth on this is, in my opinion, the thirty years between Bustamante's membership and present-day. I'd come to his defense if he would just distance himself from the group.

I consider myself rather moderate when it comes to racial issues. I'm ambivalent on affirmative action, pro-immigration, against a national language, shake my head when I see the confederate flag on a bumper sticker, and plan to learn Spanish someday.

This, though, is different. I'm not particularly interested in scoring points on a gubernatorial election hundreds of miles away. But to me, this is not "bullsh*t"; this genuinely disturbs me. The only comfort I have with wild fringe groups like MEChA is the wall that stands between them and mainstream credibility. Bustamante's embrace of them eats away at that wall.

The next governor of California will be Bill Lockyer, elected in 2006. Gray Davis will survive the recall, and by the time he steps down, consider himself in contention for the 2008 presidential bid.

The next mayor of Houston will be Sylvester Turner, who will beat Orlando Sanchez in the runoff. Sanchez will beat out Bill White and Michael Berry by getting a handsome share of the Hispanic and Republican vote, which will (once again) not be enough to win him the mayorship.

The next governor of Texas will be Kay Bailey Hutchison. There will be a bloody battle for her senate seat between Governor Perry and Lt. Governor Dewhurst. Perry will win the primary and the general election. The Democratic nominee will be Ken Bentsen.

President Bush will defeat Senator John Kerry in 2004 by a significant, though a closer margin to Bill Clinton's in 1996 than Ronald Reagan's in 1984.

Much has been made, including a snarky comment by yours truly, about Cruz Bustamante and his connection with a group called MEChA. Most of it pertains to a phrase in the MEChA's charter that's translated to "For The Race ("Chicanos"), Everything, For Others, Nothing."

There is an interesting debate over at Winds of Change on the subject. Joe Katzman refers to them as a "racial sepremacist hate group" and the conservative end of the blogosphere has made may of the quote and other things about MEChA.

Frankly, I'm not very concerned about the charter quote; I'm much more concerned about the other things. For those of you unaware, MEChA believes that the southwestern states should suceed from the union ("A" is for Aztlan, their name for the region) and be rejoined with Mexico.

That is quite apparently not going to happen. So does that mean that Bustamante's ties with the group (he was a member in college and they support his bid) ought not to hurt him?

It's a good question, and one that I believe is without an easy answer. Katzman and his fellow-travellers in the Winds of Change post make comparisons to members of the nacent KKK (who are moribund) and the pre-success Nazi party in Germany.

MEChA defender Armed Liberal, on the other hand, argues that the group is not only pathetically small, they don't have a track record like the KKK does.

It's an interesting debate, and one where I'm inclined to agree with Armed Liberal, but I have a really hard time doing it.

No matter how you look at it, MEChA is a bad apple. I believe that college is a time to "find yourself" politically and therefore I am disinclined to hold membership to a radical group during those years against a candidate.

That said, what's striking here (to me) is that Bustamante has neither denounced MEChA nor distanced himself from them. I'm not a believer that everyone must denounce every unsavory aspect of their party or group that they may be a member of, but Aztlan is not some wacky part of MEChA, it's the self-described reason for its existence. Bustamante is running for the governorship of a state that in college he wasn't sure even should be in the Union and has made no claim that he has changed (or, to be charitable, made up) his mind on this issue.

It seems to me that there are two plausible reasons for this:

1) Bustamante truly believes that the southwest was stolen from Mexico and ought to be returned, or

2) Bustamante is getting significant support from the sucessionist community and those sympathetic to it that he is more comfortable saying that California should be in Mexico than alienating these potential voters.

Neither paints a particularly nice picture.

The Republican equivalent, it seems to me, is the southern neo-confederates. Obviously, the South is not going to make any attempts to suceed any time in the near future. Therefore, Trent Lott and John Ashcroft giving interviews to the much-maligned "Southern Partisan" magazine should theoretically be non-issues.

Indeed, to date, they have been. John Ashcroft is the Attorney General of the United States and Trent Lott was brought down not by his connection to that publication, but by some comments he made at Strom Thurmond's funeral. Theoretically, though, even that shouldn't have made a difference. After all, he was talking about an election 50 years prior supporting a party that no longer exists and a man that had become a Jay Leno punch line.

Except that it does matter. It's not important who Trent Lott supported when he was a todler, but it is important what he says about elections (even when the fates and issues have been decided) because it strikes at the heart of who Trent Lott is and what he believes.

You can argue that Lott is still a senator and Ashcroft is the Attorney General, and you'd be right. You can also say that your objections about these two people were shouted down by the partisans, and you'd be right there as well. Yet, as you reflexively shout down those of us pointing out the problem because we have different tax and foreign policy objectives than you do, you're putting yourself in no better a position than those that defend Trent Lott and John Ashcroft.

I'm not wishing to go the route that some Democrats went with Trent Lott and Conrad Burns and Republicans with ANSWER, asking every Democrat to denounce every instance of misguided thought on their side of the aisle (or in support of any issue they support).

I do believe, however, that Bustamante's ties to MEChA is a legitimate issue until he comes out and declares that both their quasi-racist slogan and reason for existence are, to say the least, misguided.

Michael Williams of Master of None	Justin Furstenfeld of Blue October

Just a random thought...

I did a horrible thing last night. I took a nap from 6-9PM. That, of course, set me up for a pretty bad setback this morning. Not that you could tell it by my clock...

6:00AM: mmmmmmbababammmmmmmm... huh? It's 8 already? Dammit, I'm going back to bed. Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

~8:00AM: mmmmmmbababammmmmmmm... huh? It's 8 already? Dammit, I'm going back to bed. Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

~9:00AM: mmmmmmbababammmmmmmm... huh? It's 8 already? Dammit, I'm going back to bed. Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

~10:00AM: mmmmmm... cool, it's only 8. Hmmm, what's that sound? My, I think it's the sound of Operation 8AM being thrown out the window, bouncing off the stairs, and landing shattered on the concrete below. Bed. Nice. Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

~11:00AM: Yay! Only 8! I wonder if Operation 8AM is uncomfortable as it burns in Hell? Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

~NOON: Only 8! Sweet!! Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

~1:00PM: Weird, if it's 8 then why is the Sun out? Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

~1:30PM: [yawn] Cool. It's 8. I made it up on time! Wooohoooo!!!! Boy, it's kind of bright outside. I think I'm going to close the sha... Zz... mmm? No... better get up so I can stick with Operation 8AM... Insert anthem here... Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

~2:00PM: I don't think it's 8AM anymore... Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

~2:30PM: YOU STUPID CLOCK! YOU'VE BEEN LYING TO ME... [whispers] thanks.

My friend (and fellow former Daily Cougar columnist) Mike pointed out an interesting column by guest columnist Paul Eckert.

There is something wrong with the opinion section in this paper: lack of original opinions. Last semester was almost unbearable with the deluge of war articles flooding the opinion section. Several writers posted numerous articles expressing their opinion of the war. At that time, if I wanted to hear about the war, I would have turned on the television, because it was being crammed down our throats by the media.

If the columns in the Daily Cougar were not about war, then they were trite political tirades by some Republican or Democrat dying to have a platform to write about how great their party is. Seriously, can we leave politics at home, at least so we can read some fresh ideas from the bright students at the University of Houston instead of ranting by the political drones whose souls have been successfully infiltrated by Big Brother?

I wrote for the Daily Cougar from 1998-2001 and wrote a lot of the kinds of columns that he is critical of. I considered myself a political columnist, and while I occasionally wrote human interest stuff, politics was my bread and butter.

While I should perhaps be offended by Mr. Eckert's column, I don't entirely disagree with it. Poorly concieved political commentary is what drove me to stop by the Cougar office and apply in the first place. At the same time, I usually skimmed through the human interest pieces straight to the political columns, whether they were by good or poor columnists and whether I agreed or not.

Where I would likely draw the distinction is between partisan columns and thoughtful ones. During my time there, I tried to either explore politics objectively or policy passionately. A lot of college columnists, and not just at UH, tried to explore politics passionately and I think that's a big part of the problem.

The Cougar is now largely littered with anti-war folks and in 2001 most columns I read opposed even the Afghan War. Rather than articulating a great argument against it, they simply took swipes at capitalism, America, and the government. In an academic surrounding that purports to encourage critical thinking, there wasn't much.

That's not to say it's purely a partisan issue. The only other conservative columnist during my day, Adam Elrod, did a great job of articulating Republican talking points but didn't go beyond that.

Unfortunately, columns were generally meant to be 550 words in length, which doesn't give very much space to explore any issue. So while I found my time writing at the paper immensely helpful as I explored issue after issue, week after week, I can understand those that, like Mr. Eckert, would rather I have talked about something else.

I believe everyone should write what they know and what they're interested in, and it just so happens that I am a policy wonk. As RAWbservations hopefully demonstrates, I am more than capable of writing more on the human interest side of things. It would be particularly good to draw the personal in with the political and add more "soul" as Eckert requests, but the truth is with 550 words, there isn't much room for that.

That's one of the big reasons that I prefer writing blogs to the Cougar. Interestingly, as time passes I find that I am less and less interested in purely political blogs, much as Eckert is in political columns and almost for the exact same reasons. It's one of the reasons I don't think he and I are too far off, despite disagreements of the column medium specifically.

A lot of blogs are good at mustering liberal or conservative talking points, why Bush is good or bad, and cheerleading. It's easy to slip in to the mode of a billboard, but one of the ironic advantages of not having a distribution of 11,000 (which the Cougar does) and of being restricted to a column a week is the freedom to be a lot more personal in our observations on politics and culture.

We should probably do that more often.

We've picked up a new sponsor!

First it was Bronxi the Capitalist Purple Monkey.

Now, HUHcorp. Go buy their stuff and I get a cut!

... or something...

Apologies to Warliberal for lifting his term for the 10 Commandments in Alabama that's causing all the brouhaha.

My initial sympathies lied, more or less, with Alabama Supreme Court Justice Roy Moore, the cheif defender of the plaque that sparked national interest when it was ruled, repeatedly and eventually by his eight peers on the Alabama Supreme Court, that he must remove it.

My general feeling is that, while Constitutionally dubious, the nation is under considerably more serious threats than ten rules which the nation predominantly agrees with and has been the cornerstone of western civilization being posted on court grounds, where western civilization's ideals are often put in to practice.

Whether or not such a posting is Constitutional or not I do not view as a clean call. My view on the seperation of church and state is that the government cannot show favoritism to one religion or another. If I were intent on getting it torn down, I'd likely try to find some wacko religion's tenets and ask that they be put up. It would have saved everyone the spectical of fundamentalists sobbing.

On the other hand, I suspect that a lot of people rather enjoyed that site and, more grandly, enjoyed poking the eye of Christians and their pesky beliefs. Lest we forget, these are the same people that very often delight in suing town halls nationwide cause their Christmas decoration has a nativity scene.

Thanks to Ulysses, I ran across this apt John Derbyshire quote:

"...by purging all sacred images, references, and words from our public life, you are leaving us with nothing but a cold temple presided over by the Goddess of Reason -- that counterfeit deity who, as history has proved time and time and time again, inspires no affection, retains no loyalties, soothes no grief, justifies no sacrifice, gives no comfort, extends no charity, displays no pity, and offers no hope, except to the tiny cliques of fanatical ideologues who tend her cold blue flame."

I consider myself a reasonable person. I have my religious beliefs and according to many they may run contrary to reason, but I do not seek to whack anyone over the head with my bible.

I do not consider the plaque as doing so. I wouldn't have a problem with a Muslim or Buddhist monument, either. Nor one with a quote from John Stuart Mills, provided that they had something worthwhile to say.

What disturbs me about the critical fervor over the plaque is that it's impossible for anyone to get so worked up over a hunk of granite. It's not about the granite and I don't believe it's about the seperation of church and state.

I had a good friend in college named Clarissa. She was an avowed liberal and an atheist. At the time, I was slightly left of center and agnostic myself. When the subject of prayer in school and, more specifically, a moment of silence in school, she said some variation of the following:

"I guess I was naive. For the longest time, I thought that the moment of silence was an opportunity to get your thoughts together for class. One day I was already prepared and looked around and everyone was praying..."

... and that's why she couldn't support a moment of silence in public schools.

For many, it's about being uncomfortable with religion that being a justification for some sort of "Don't ask, don't tell" policy regarding religious beliefs. The Michael Newdow lawsuit that struck down The Pledge of Allegiance and the battle over nativity scenes nationwide strike me as simply being yardage on that football field and little else.

So while I am ambivalent towards the posting of the 10 Commandments, I can often feel my feet dragging when it comes to topics like this. I feel that if I agree with them on this, I am agreeing with them on a larger argument in which I oppose them.

I do not have a fish on my truck. Nor do I wear a cross around my neck. I used to have a Jesus candle, but it exploded when I left it in my car in the Houston heat. There may be Christians out there who view my private faith as being false or half-hearted and they may be trying to pound their more vocal beliefs with posting this and that, but I often find that the expression of beliefs with which I disagree or do not share considerably less deserving than those who go around with pins poking and poking at others' balloons.

That said, there's a saying that when a room full of people tell you that you're piss drunk, just pass out. When the other eight Supreme Court justices in one of the most socially conservative states in the union tell you that you have to take it down, then take it down.

Many of the problems I have with the balloon pokers I also have with those of faith (whatever faith) that can't take a hint. No one does more harm to the faith than a pushy Christian that can't take a hint.

The sheer passion with which Justice Moore is pursuing this merely justifies those who paint those of faith as somehow out-of-control. Fight the legal battle, sure, but I find the insinuation that were it not for the large hunk of granite, we'd all lose our way to be more than a bit insulting.

I'd go on, but the Wall Street Journal editorial team says it better than I can:

Alabama Attorney General Bill Pryor, one of the few state officials providing some adult supervision on the matter, is unpersuaded. "The rule of law means that no person, including the chief justice of Alabama, is above the law," he said last week. "We all must obey the orders of these courts even when we disagree with those orders." By the way, Mr. Pryor, a nominee for a federal judgeship, is currently being blocked by Senate Democrats who claim he can't be trusted to uphold the law on the federal bench. His willingness to stand against Justice Moore in the face of public anger gives the lie to that claim.
After Wednesday's deadline passed, the state Supreme Court's associate justices overruled Justice Moore and voted to remove the monument. Hence, its days on public display in the Alabama Judicial Building are probably numbered.

Justice Moore has received significant support from the public, to be sure, but not because Alabamans champion law-breakers. Rather, they see in him someone willing to stand up to media and cultural elites who want to strike "under God" from the Pledge of Allegiance, ban prayer in public schools and routinely show contempt for their religious values.

The problem is Justice Moore's current methods, which are doing more to raise money for the ACLU and Americans United for Separation of Church and State than advance the cause of religious liberty. In a worst-case scenario, his actions could result in a series of opinions broadly striking down public displays of the Ten Commandments. For the sake of preserving religious expression in public life, we hope he backs off and finds another battle to fight another day.

But reading a 50+ message debate about whether or not Shania Twain is actually country music, and apparently contributing to it via my most recent Twain image , makes it all okay by me.

For an encore, and proving yet again how I am a one-trick pony, here's another...

In the waning days of BBSes, I was introduced to one called ACME BBS, which a local 9-line system in the Houston area set up by a man named Drew Kraus, a resident of Seabrook (the suburb where I lived).

I was introduced to it by my friends Jay and Linus, who mostly wanted my account so that they could have extra time on the system. I noticed that something was amiss when I first started logging on and people with silly names that I had never heard of acted as though they knew me.

I started logging on more often and, looking back, I can honestly say that ACME had one of the largest impacts on my life as much as anything during those years.

I'm sure this will absolutely shock you, but I wasn't what one would quaintly call "popular" or "liked" at my school up until that point. Nor did I have the so-called skills of interpersonal "communication." I didn't always "shower" and sometimes smelled "bad."

In many ways it was a cycle. I was squatty, I wore slacks instead of blue jeans (they were more comfortable, darnit!), I wasn't in to music, much less hep music, and I wasn't athletic. My grades weren't good enough to get me into the classes with the smart kids, so I was stuck with the idiots, the bullies, and all the vapid sorts of junior high and high school.

Once I made the determination that I wasn't going to ever be popular, I stopped trying and therefore started sinking further and further into the habits that made me less-than-popular to begin with.

ACME reversed that cycle.

It reversed it in a number of direct ways. I met Ora, the first girl I ever loved, on it. I met Anna, my first serious girlfriend, through a job I got through a friend I met on the system. I also met Adam, my roommate for four years at the University of Houston and one of my partners in crime at No-Lyfe Productions (Brian, another NLP member, was also met online).

More than any of the specifics, though, ACME changed my life because it acted as training wheels for social interaction.

Because of the annonymity of it all, I was free from having to worry about what they thought of my appearence (which, in true adolescent fashion, I believed to be worse than it actually was) or any of the superficialities of public school. Even more than that, a vast majority of people on ACME were, like me, social outcasts.

It was an all-black-wearing-society- denouncing-pretentious-young-snot guild! We were mostly proto-revolutionaries. It wasn't about politics so much as it was about society. "The Man" wasn't so much the government or harsh school administrators, but rather Carl Antley, Darrin Duplanis, and bullies and overachievers and the popularity establishment that had locked us all out.

Then, of course, there was the girls. They ranged from one out of every three to one of seven members and varied greatly month to month, but for many of us it was the first time we'd actually be able to really talk to girls! I'd had a couple female friends up to that point, but perilously few and they seemed like a different species.

It's less surprising now all that we had in common. We were predominantly middle class, intellegent, somewhat interested in computers, and, of course, social rejects.

What was most important about all this, though, was the skills that I learned (and I think most of us did). We learned how many fellow travellers we had out there. We were able to find out that girls weren't all that much different from us. And we learned to type. Oh heavens, did we learn to type.

Because of the high boy-to-girl ratio, if you were going to get to talk to a member of this rare species, you had to type faster than the other four guys in the room also trying to talk to her. No typing teacher could ever provide incentive like that. Girls, on the other hand, had to learn even faster in order to respond to the four boys hitting on her, more than she'd probably ever had prior to logging on.

But most of it was social. I was honored to be chosen by Drew as a cosysop, an assistent system operator. That gave me powers above and beyond those of the normal user. I could see other people's conversations, read their mail, and a plethora of other things. In their most private moments, I was there.

I didn't often abuse this authority and very, very rarely ever muttered a word of what I knew. It wasn't about power, to me, but rather about information. I got an enormously deep well of understanding for how people work. I got to learn second-hand (as well as first) how two-faced people could be, how petty, and how utterly dishonest.

In our more haughty moments, we thought that BBSing was a utopia. It was a place without the social caste system of high school. A place where we were all indeed created equal and popularity, to the greatest extent the concept creeped through our doors, was based on intellect and kindness, not clothes and appearence.

Reality found a way of creeping through the walls, as it usually does. Truth be told, it was always there, it was only a matter of being able to see it.

Cliques were inevitably formed. There was always the Old Guard and the New Guard. There were those of us that subscribed and the basic users, there for an hour a day for as many provisional accounts and fake names that they could come up with. There were those of us that knew how it all worked, and those that were just learning.

Then there were, of course, the meetings. Like most local BBSes I'd imagine, we'd have various ACME parties. We'd all meet each other and hang out. Once that bridge was crossed, we'd hang out more often and forge real life friendships with our online chatmates. Of course, in person, we could often see why some people spent so much time online.

"Did you know HawkDude weighs three hundred pounds?!"

We'd discover that the girl we'd been hitting on was drastically overweight or that our late night chatting compatriot was a dorkwad the likes of which we didn't even know even existed. The kinds of kids who were cool in real life were inevitably the coolest at the parties. Mostly, though, we were hanging out with the same kids we hung out with in school, there were just more of them.

In a way, though, that was enough. There was strength in numbers and at the parties, most of us indeed felt stronger. We fit in. Awkward at first, we found ourselves talking in person about the same things we'd talked about online. But popularity of certain members swelled and diminished and the computer was always surrounded as we talked to people online to avoid the scores of people there.

In a way, it's the parties and meetings that I remember best. The merriment, the drama. The same sorts of memories most people have. The conflict, the friendships forged in a way that online could never accomodate. In that way, my experiences aren't that different from the next guy's. ACME just facilitated it all.

In a way, I'm glad it wasn't the utopia we sometimes thought it was. The truth is that you have to grow up some time and it was the conflicts, the inequalities, and the reality of the BBS that most equipped me to do so.

There are AOL and Lycos chat rooms that are analogous to the ACME ones. The Internet message boards and Usenet aren't terribly different from the ACME message boards. The whole Internet replaces the file boards and the online MUD Hack & Slash game has been replaced six hundred times over.

There was a natural chain of events for ACME users. The average age was about fourteen to eighteen. People logged on, they made friends, they went off to college or work and stopped logging off so much.

ACME was eventually killed by the Internet, or more specifically, instant messaging. Even if it hadn't, I likely would have moved on as most of the others had. There comes a time when you kick off the training wheels and ride off into the real world.

I'm all showered and ready to go, cept I don't have much in the way of plans today.

Today is either going to rock or be soooooo boring.

I'll keep you posted, as I'm sure you're just dying to know.

I decided late last week that I needed to get some things in my life in order. Not an uncommon development in my life. I decided that among the things I needed to do was to start getting up at 8 in the morning and, if I've gotta be unemployed, stop acting so unemployed.

So here I am.

It's eight in the morning.

I'm awake.

Yay!!!!

My first feeling is like "Wow. I have so much time now! What am I going to do with it all?!?!"

It'll be interesting tonight, when I'm usually getting all warmed up I'll be sleepy as all heck.

I'm an odd morning/non-morning person. I am not, by nature, an extraordinarily excitable person, lest I have something to be really excited about. So it's odd that sometimes in the morning I can be obnoxiously hyper.

Whenever I'd sleep over at Anna's folks' place, I'd usually be up way earlier than her (she's decidedly anti-morning) and I'd be all over the place. Heaven help her if I'd have to wake her up if we had plans because she'd get HyperAlex. "Getupgetupgetup!!!!!!!!!"

"Nooooooooo...."

"Yeah! C'mon! Bright and sunny day!!!!"

"Who are you?"

Of course, on this particular morning it's decidedly not bright and sunny. It's way overcast and super duper rainy.

All the better!