I started writing this post about how nobody's perfect and that's OK, or that was the gist of it, but I crossed out "nobody's perfect," not just because it's an incredibly banal sentiment, and tried some other statements, like "everyone is disappointing," but they weren't quite right either — and no, this wasn't an allusion to someone in particular, I didn't even start it that way and edit it into generalities; my motives were 95% pure, and that's good for what you're paying me — but this post, I don't know.
There was a split second when I sensed an answer welling up, and I felt that if I were just able to get ahold of a little bit of it and pull, then everything would make sense. I guess this is what's left on your fingers when it slips away.
Lost the plot: a phrase I learned by listening to Modest Mouse.
Or there is no such string. Or even if there was, were, how would it make life any easier? There is no Key 23, but once upon a time, there were Fritzellians around to crack up when someone said "adulthood." As if sheep existed, and all that.
It's like that.
Dan's Webpage
Because everyone loves a farce
Tuesday, October 31
2:05 AM
Almost
Saturday, October 28 12:42 AM
Blog Ye Foolishly About Work
Wednesday, October 25 4:13 AM
Last call for cloistered conspiracy theorists
Monday, October 23 3:14 PM
Conspiracy Now
Thursday, October 19 1:32 AM
TVland definitely not Miami
Monday, October 16 8:51 PM
Cloud Atlas
Saturday, October 14 8:35 AM
House warmed, leftovers now somewhat cold
Friday, October 13 5:28 PM
At least the pheasant is done
Tuesday, October 10 12:25 AM
A couch, and a curse lifted
Friday, October 6 2:02 AM
From sickness' heart, I e-vite thee
Monday, October 2 2:14 AM
Ziggy : dockwork :: Our Bold Hero : editing?
Alles Wird Gut
Almost
Comments (0)
Saturday, October 28 12:42 AM
Blog Ye Foolishly About Work
I didn't realize how central the Internet had become to my life until two weeks ago, when it just stopped working (blame Comcast), and the problem wasn't so much that I'd be bored, not likely, as that I couldn't do my job. Frantic calls to customer service and the office, which was long closed.
Intro to Dan: I work on a piecework basis, dividing my time between fifteen or so Tricky Little Edits that can take anywhere from 10 minutes to 45 minutes, if the writer screwed up in some really exotic way (I've got a standard warning email for folks who write in all lowercase), and a thrice-a-day, triple-the-pay Big Elaborate Edit, which takes me 30 minutes to an hour-and-a-half and occasionally demands the kind of creativity that, for me, is real editing. Not in large doses or anything, but it's there, and it is wonderful.
Some nights I have to give up the B.E.E. for awhile, because my browser keeps crashing, and yesterday, for the second time since I started training in on these, I was told that I'm supposed to be editing the B.E.E. in a completely different way. Though they are occasionally written by some real supergeniuses, you can say this about the T.L.E.s — they don't require a fact-checking call every time.
Yes, I'm complaining, but this is from a copy editor who prides himself on thoroughness, who once spent an hour looking up the correct etymology for an Elvish word, who has called to verify the accuracy of the word "decimated" in a lowly (but lovely: go Weck) sports summary. (Deadlines were not affected.) Also, without giving away too much about my current job: the B.E.E.s are not exactly government documents.
To think that editing them used to be fun. I hope that comes back once I learn this previously-unmentioned protocol and its assuredly-numerous exceptions.
Confession: Part of me is angry because, right before being blindsided, I was also called on a few comma splices.
And you know what? I was wrong, at least according to every authority I can find.
(The bloggers at Language Log, Yavin IV for the reactive grammar movement, are silent on the comma splice.)
A comma splice, as I've recently learned, is the improper joining of two independent clauses with just a comma. I usually manage to avoid them, because for most of my life, I've been basing my punctuation decisions on the weight a given mark can bear: semicolons are stronger than commas, periods and colons are stronger than semicolons. It's just something you sense, like when a sentence is floopy.
Usually a comma isn't strong enough to hold up that much clause, but sometimes I'll see, say, a "then" — it's usually a "then" — after the comma and decide that's enough support to keep the comma, and with it the whole sentence, from collapsing. I mean, "then" isn't a coordinating conjunction, but in low light, maybe you've had a few drinks...
So now I find out that I've had this huge blind spot which, owing to my intuitive — but as it turns out, imperfect — method, I haven't noticed before. My kingdom for a Columbia Guide to Standard American English!
Or better yet, a post from the rebels, letting me off the hook. (At least as far as my conscience is concerned. Yes, conscience.)
Curse my unorthodox correctness conditions!
No matter what I believe is acceptable, and "then" still feels kinda acceptable, Standard Edited English is against me; it has many allies, and if I want to play the game, I play by its rules. I can save a few comma splices in quoted dialogue, Standard Edited English's only safe haven for words like "gonna" and "alright," but everywhere else... let drop the Grammar Hammer.
It's the end of the month now, so I don't really have much to do. Quotas have been met, and the flow of piecework has slowed to a trickle. Maybe on Monday I'll wake up and find two or three documents waiting to be edited, but probably not. It's lucky, in a way, because I've only got one B.E.E. still waiting for me, and I'm going to put off going back to it for as long as I can.
Intro to Dan: I work on a piecework basis, dividing my time between fifteen or so Tricky Little Edits that can take anywhere from 10 minutes to 45 minutes, if the writer screwed up in some really exotic way (I've got a standard warning email for folks who write in all lowercase), and a thrice-a-day, triple-the-pay Big Elaborate Edit, which takes me 30 minutes to an hour-and-a-half and occasionally demands the kind of creativity that, for me, is real editing. Not in large doses or anything, but it's there, and it is wonderful.
Some nights I have to give up the B.E.E. for awhile, because my browser keeps crashing, and yesterday, for the second time since I started training in on these, I was told that I'm supposed to be editing the B.E.E. in a completely different way. Though they are occasionally written by some real supergeniuses, you can say this about the T.L.E.s — they don't require a fact-checking call every time.
Yes, I'm complaining, but this is from a copy editor who prides himself on thoroughness, who once spent an hour looking up the correct etymology for an Elvish word, who has called to verify the accuracy of the word "decimated" in a lowly (but lovely: go Weck) sports summary. (Deadlines were not affected.) Also, without giving away too much about my current job: the B.E.E.s are not exactly government documents.
To think that editing them used to be fun. I hope that comes back once I learn this previously-unmentioned protocol and its assuredly-numerous exceptions.
Confession: Part of me is angry because, right before being blindsided, I was also called on a few comma splices.
And you know what? I was wrong, at least according to every authority I can find.
(The bloggers at Language Log, Yavin IV for the reactive grammar movement, are silent on the comma splice.)
A comma splice, as I've recently learned, is the improper joining of two independent clauses with just a comma. I usually manage to avoid them, because for most of my life, I've been basing my punctuation decisions on the weight a given mark can bear: semicolons are stronger than commas, periods and colons are stronger than semicolons. It's just something you sense, like when a sentence is floopy.
Usually a comma isn't strong enough to hold up that much clause, but sometimes I'll see, say, a "then" — it's usually a "then" — after the comma and decide that's enough support to keep the comma, and with it the whole sentence, from collapsing. I mean, "then" isn't a coordinating conjunction, but in low light, maybe you've had a few drinks...
So now I find out that I've had this huge blind spot which, owing to my intuitive — but as it turns out, imperfect — method, I haven't noticed before. My kingdom for a Columbia Guide to Standard American English!
Or better yet, a post from the rebels, letting me off the hook. (At least as far as my conscience is concerned. Yes, conscience.)
Curse my unorthodox correctness conditions!
No matter what I believe is acceptable, and "then" still feels kinda acceptable, Standard Edited English is against me; it has many allies, and if I want to play the game, I play by its rules. I can save a few comma splices in quoted dialogue, Standard Edited English's only safe haven for words like "gonna" and "alright," but everywhere else... let drop the Grammar Hammer.
It's the end of the month now, so I don't really have much to do. Quotas have been met, and the flow of piecework has slowed to a trickle. Maybe on Monday I'll wake up and find two or three documents waiting to be edited, but probably not. It's lucky, in a way, because I've only got one B.E.E. still waiting for me, and I'm going to put off going back to it for as long as I can.
Wednesday, October 25 4:13 AM
Last call for cloistered conspiracy theorists
So I guess there were no takers for my "conspiracy coming out tell-in" suggestion?
[Update: Graham has responded to my post below in its comments section, and I've responded to him. Now I'm off to Brainerd for a day or two... already behind schedule.]
In the last poll I saw, around 12% of Americans thought it was likely that a cruise missile hit the Pentagon, around 16% thought there might have been explosives in the Twin Towers, and 36% could fall into either the LIHOP or MIHOP categories.
So you're not exactly alone, even if I do think you're wrong. I mean, look at my beliefs: somewhere between 9% to 20% of Americans are libertarians, and only what, 5% are atheists? We're all minorities here, and differences in opinion are the most important form of diversity (outside of academia, at least).
There's no reason to be ashamed: Whatever your theory, you can't really think it's so bad that it'd whither in the light of day? Is this site, with its tiny, variously-opinionated readership, really not neutral enough ground?
(Or are you just going to keep your beliefs to yourself, because I've no right to know about things that are only in your head, separate from the marketplace of ideas? Our Bold Hero certainly has his share of ineffectual secret beliefs.)
I guess this is my last post on the subject, though I really would rather find out what you guys think here, in cold prose, and avoid either being shocked later or having one of those arguments where we're both gesturing toward sources the other person hasn't read.
Once again, if you have problems with the "official account" of 9/11 (and are not a random stranger who doesn't have a clue who I am), the comments are open to your alternate theories on how and, if you feel you're up to it, why. On the other hand, if you're a vocal skeptic who isn't willing to share a theory, would it be rude of me to suggest that in the future you perhaps... shut up?
[Update: Graham has responded to my post below in its comments section, and I've responded to him. Now I'm off to Brainerd for a day or two... already behind schedule.]
In the last poll I saw, around 12% of Americans thought it was likely that a cruise missile hit the Pentagon, around 16% thought there might have been explosives in the Twin Towers, and 36% could fall into either the LIHOP or MIHOP categories.
So you're not exactly alone, even if I do think you're wrong. I mean, look at my beliefs: somewhere between 9% to 20% of Americans are libertarians, and only what, 5% are atheists? We're all minorities here, and differences in opinion are the most important form of diversity (outside of academia, at least).
There's no reason to be ashamed: Whatever your theory, you can't really think it's so bad that it'd whither in the light of day? Is this site, with its tiny, variously-opinionated readership, really not neutral enough ground?
(Or are you just going to keep your beliefs to yourself, because I've no right to know about things that are only in your head, separate from the marketplace of ideas? Our Bold Hero certainly has his share of ineffectual secret beliefs.)
I guess this is my last post on the subject, though I really would rather find out what you guys think here, in cold prose, and avoid either being shocked later or having one of those arguments where we're both gesturing toward sources the other person hasn't read.
Once again, if you have problems with the "official account" of 9/11 (and are not a random stranger who doesn't have a clue who I am), the comments are open to your alternate theories on how and, if you feel you're up to it, why. On the other hand, if you're a vocal skeptic who isn't willing to share a theory, would it be rude of me to suggest that in the future you perhaps... shut up?
Monday, October 23 3:14 PM
Conspiracy Now
Saturday. Not thirty seconds after everyone willing to see Little Miss Sunshine left without me, Graham called to invite me to a game of cheating-rules Illuminati! at Robot House. This is not the first time something like this has happened: the Blowhard clearly has our place bugged.
Unfortunately, Graham's friends weren't really into the Illuminati thing — naturally, I'll never be friends with either of them — and we abandoned the game very quickly.
It was there, talking after the game, that I first realized I had been led down the rabbit hole. Not because they were talking about Hamline things I knew nothing about, that's just what Hamline people do around each other. No, suddenly the test was coming alive before my eyes, and several people in the room were failing it.
You see, just as I decided a few years ago that Illuminati was a near-foolproof Potential Friend Test, in my supreme political wishy-washiness (Graham continues to suggest that I'm conforming to some sort of cookie-cutter moderate ideal, probably because of my subscription to Today's Moderate magazine) I also devised a near-foolproof Not Just Partisan, But Crazy Partisan Test: Would you wish (even if you wouldn't actually support or commit) assassination on a high-ranking figure in the opposing party?
Some of the Hamlinites said yes, or at least that they'd be glad rather than, say, outraged, if someone shot the current President of the United States. At least one Hamlinite thought that using his last name, let alone calling him President Bush, is more respect than he deserves, so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised.
Personally, I don't really care for the guy or his accomplishments either, but no one is allowed to shoot my president. Note that this test doesn't work with idiots, who might wish for assassination when, due to their condition, they haven't really thought it through.
(Interesting side-conversation here: who would you take a bullet for? I think I'm with Graham, in that I'd take a bullet for a bunch of people, unless I had time to think about it. I'll admit that the idea of dying young, but a hero, was a little more satisfying when I believed in an afterlife. And would it be morally abhorrent, or just eminently rational, to base my decision on some measurement of our relative worth as human beings?)
And down down the rabbithole we went.
We moved to another apartment, with very delicious pickles, and I learned about the Quakers while a bunch of Hamlinites watched the Truther documentary Loose Change.
(I suspect they do or will come to hate the title "Truther," but that's life: ameliorate your labels or die)
I noticed that, at first, Graham was ridiculing the video as well, but eventually, perhaps realizing that the winds of truthiness were blowing in his direction, he started arguing for the conspiracy along with several of the other Hamlinites.
The one thing that bothers me — besides the fact that people were implying I was closed-minded because I wouldn't sit down and watch the video, had instead read the Popular Mechanics article presenting and then debunking many of its claims (you can find other refutations on the Wikipedia page I linked to above), whereas they seemed completely unfamiliar with the arguments against "9/11 Truth" (whew) — is that this time, and several other times I've found myself this deep in Wonderland, would-be Truthers never come out and say what they believe.
They just poke holes in the established narrative (or rather, enjoy the holes others have created). And while that's all well and good for atheists and neg LD cases, I think if you're going to be a 9/11 cynic in mixed company, you owe us your alternate 9/11 theory.
If you're going to be crazy by yourself, fine. I, for one, never grilled the Politician's wife about her dinosaur conspiracy theory or fear of manhole covers, and most Lawrentians knew to leave Jubb's views on evolution well enough alone. Wrong can be wrong in private. It's still wrong, but you've got no real power over anyone and you're not trying to sell anything in the marketplace, so it's none of my business.
It's time to come out of the conspiracy closet, kids. Are you a Let It Happen On Purpose or a Made It Happen On Purpose? Perhaps you're a No-Planer? We'll still let you snipe at the mainstream view, but the point of this sniping is to get at the real how and maybe, if you're feeling ambitious, the why. So please, tell us.
My understanding of Graham's 9/11 theory, pieced together from pointless arguments I would rather not have had, is that he doesn't believe a plane hit the Pentagon and thinks there were demolitions (presumably placed by forces in the government) in Building 7.
My alternate hypothesis — because though Graham talks crazy-partisan, he's always had the habit of dramatic overstatement — is that Graham entertains these notions, perhaps even has doubts, but takes the Politician's wife's Cognitive Dissonance Approach to the various 9/11 Truths: interesting to believe in, but hermetically sealed from the rest of his beliefs, this whole thing is just a parlor game Graham is deeply committed to, like when we used to make up conspiracy theories in high school.
Whatever the case, I have to respect the Truthers for doubting, and then taking that doubt seriously. Even those who don't really care about counterarguments are reading more, to expand their doubt. It's one-sided, but it's more informed than nothing.
Compare my roommate. The next day I was trying to explain how weird it was to actually be in the minority in a room full of would-be (or, one hopes, C.D. approach) Truthers, but she said:
"Well, whatever. I don't know if there was a conspiracy or not. I guess I would believe in the conspiracy if it made me hate Bush more, but it really wouldn't." Here is someone who seems to honestly have doubts, but doesn't care that she has doubts, and doesn't realize what the implications would be.
Some of these Truthers, on the other hand, seem to grasp the stakes and care, if not whether they're right or wrong, then at least that they're right. And they've got theories, beliefs, motives.
The comments are open to Truther and skeptic alike, though I want to hear from people who've at least met me, not total strangers. So like I said kids, out and proud.
Unfortunately, Graham's friends weren't really into the Illuminati thing — naturally, I'll never be friends with either of them — and we abandoned the game very quickly.
It was there, talking after the game, that I first realized I had been led down the rabbit hole. Not because they were talking about Hamline things I knew nothing about, that's just what Hamline people do around each other. No, suddenly the test was coming alive before my eyes, and several people in the room were failing it.
You see, just as I decided a few years ago that Illuminati was a near-foolproof Potential Friend Test, in my supreme political wishy-washiness (Graham continues to suggest that I'm conforming to some sort of cookie-cutter moderate ideal, probably because of my subscription to Today's Moderate magazine) I also devised a near-foolproof Not Just Partisan, But Crazy Partisan Test: Would you wish (even if you wouldn't actually support or commit) assassination on a high-ranking figure in the opposing party?
Some of the Hamlinites said yes, or at least that they'd be glad rather than, say, outraged, if someone shot the current President of the United States. At least one Hamlinite thought that using his last name, let alone calling him President Bush, is more respect than he deserves, so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised.
Personally, I don't really care for the guy or his accomplishments either, but no one is allowed to shoot my president. Note that this test doesn't work with idiots, who might wish for assassination when, due to their condition, they haven't really thought it through.
(Interesting side-conversation here: who would you take a bullet for? I think I'm with Graham, in that I'd take a bullet for a bunch of people, unless I had time to think about it. I'll admit that the idea of dying young, but a hero, was a little more satisfying when I believed in an afterlife. And would it be morally abhorrent, or just eminently rational, to base my decision on some measurement of our relative worth as human beings?)
And down down the rabbithole we went.
We moved to another apartment, with very delicious pickles, and I learned about the Quakers while a bunch of Hamlinites watched the Truther documentary Loose Change.
(I suspect they do or will come to hate the title "Truther," but that's life: ameliorate your labels or die)
I noticed that, at first, Graham was ridiculing the video as well, but eventually, perhaps realizing that the winds of truthiness were blowing in his direction, he started arguing for the conspiracy along with several of the other Hamlinites.
The one thing that bothers me — besides the fact that people were implying I was closed-minded because I wouldn't sit down and watch the video, had instead read the Popular Mechanics article presenting and then debunking many of its claims (you can find other refutations on the Wikipedia page I linked to above), whereas they seemed completely unfamiliar with the arguments against "9/11 Truth" (whew) — is that this time, and several other times I've found myself this deep in Wonderland, would-be Truthers never come out and say what they believe.
They just poke holes in the established narrative (or rather, enjoy the holes others have created). And while that's all well and good for atheists and neg LD cases, I think if you're going to be a 9/11 cynic in mixed company, you owe us your alternate 9/11 theory.
If you're going to be crazy by yourself, fine. I, for one, never grilled the Politician's wife about her dinosaur conspiracy theory or fear of manhole covers, and most Lawrentians knew to leave Jubb's views on evolution well enough alone. Wrong can be wrong in private. It's still wrong, but you've got no real power over anyone and you're not trying to sell anything in the marketplace, so it's none of my business.
It's time to come out of the conspiracy closet, kids. Are you a Let It Happen On Purpose or a Made It Happen On Purpose? Perhaps you're a No-Planer? We'll still let you snipe at the mainstream view, but the point of this sniping is to get at the real how and maybe, if you're feeling ambitious, the why. So please, tell us.
My understanding of Graham's 9/11 theory, pieced together from pointless arguments I would rather not have had, is that he doesn't believe a plane hit the Pentagon and thinks there were demolitions (presumably placed by forces in the government) in Building 7.
My alternate hypothesis — because though Graham talks crazy-partisan, he's always had the habit of dramatic overstatement — is that Graham entertains these notions, perhaps even has doubts, but takes the Politician's wife's Cognitive Dissonance Approach to the various 9/11 Truths: interesting to believe in, but hermetically sealed from the rest of his beliefs, this whole thing is just a parlor game Graham is deeply committed to, like when we used to make up conspiracy theories in high school.
Whatever the case, I have to respect the Truthers for doubting, and then taking that doubt seriously. Even those who don't really care about counterarguments are reading more, to expand their doubt. It's one-sided, but it's more informed than nothing.
Compare my roommate. The next day I was trying to explain how weird it was to actually be in the minority in a room full of would-be (or, one hopes, C.D. approach) Truthers, but she said:
"Well, whatever. I don't know if there was a conspiracy or not. I guess I would believe in the conspiracy if it made me hate Bush more, but it really wouldn't." Here is someone who seems to honestly have doubts, but doesn't care that she has doubts, and doesn't realize what the implications would be.
Some of these Truthers, on the other hand, seem to grasp the stakes and care, if not whether they're right or wrong, then at least that they're right. And they've got theories, beliefs, motives.
The comments are open to Truther and skeptic alike, though I want to hear from people who've at least met me, not total strangers. So like I said kids, out and proud.
Because I'm always accused of sniping at beliefs without presenting my own view (an opinion that was somewhat fair back when I was the self-appointed Token Moderate at pb.org), I'll start this off by saying that I think the debunkings are solid and I believe most of the 9/11 report (I read the graphic novel version at Slate). It's clear, however, that the 9/11 report lets a lot of people off too easy. No one let it happen on purpose, but a lot of lives could have been saved if a half dozen or so people had been less incompotent.
I think your "hermetically sealed" metaphor for my interest in 9-11 conspiracy theories is pretty spot-on.
I think it's a bit irresponsible not to doubt that a plane hit the Pentagon. I mean, it's pretty amazing to me, the power of authority over common sense and one's own eyes: if you look at the hole in the pentagon, it's just not big enough for a 747. Likewise with building 7. What did bring it down, Dan, if it weren't a controlled demolition? What's your alternate theory? None has been advanced by the government, officially, I don't think. Unless there's something in the 9-11 report.
And aren't there tons of passages blanked out of that report? I think those are the parts that deal with the bin Ladens and other Saudis that were flown discretely out of the country immediately following the attacks.
What I am getting at is: what reason at all do you have to believe that what the government has told you is even close to the actual truth of what happened? Do you believe the government in anything else they say, I mean, really?
If you do, then you must be bowing to the authority of office and position, because you certainly aren't following the authority of facts and figures.
I understand that there is an overwhelming amount of physical evidence that everything happened on 9-11 pretty much as portrayed by the government.
But the Pentagon crash and the Building 7 destruction are, I think, more open questions.
But, you're right, too. My beliefs that building 7 may very well have been imploded to collect extra insurance money and that the Pentagon may very well have been hit by a missle rather than a 747 do not have a significant effect on my overall political or world outlook.
It's a curiosity, and maybe we will have shocking answers with conclusive proof of obfuscation, lying, and cover-ups at some point in the far-off future, but I am not holding my breath.
One question, though. It looks pretty clear at this point that the Democrats are going to take the house and possibly even the Senate in the election. If this "democratic wave" keeps going (and polls show that it is) but fails to materialize in the final data about when then Diebold voting machines have calculated the results... if it appears that this election was in some way actually stolen... what would you do? What would you personally have to say about it? Would you believe the people in power? Would you be skeptical? Would you assume foul play? I am curious.
Though your insurance angle on building 7 was a fun surprise, I notice you didn't say why a missile would be hitting the Pentagon on 9/11. I'll buy that it's just a game for you, an exaggeration of your doubts, because that's what I really want to believe, but I'm surprised that you haven't come up with some theories for this hermetically sealed world of yours.
As for the claim that I'm "bowing to authority," though my reading did include the 9/11 report (which confirms the government's assertion that no Saudi nationals fled America before 9/13 -- my understanding is that these blacked-out parts you're blindly gesturing toward are more about the involvement of Saudi nationals before 9/11, something about diplomatic relations, but again, I haven't read the real thing either) and a National Institute of Standards and Technology report, most of my reasons for supporting the mainstream/government view of 9/11 come from experts in the private industry.
That Popular Mechanics article is a good start, but there are debunkings both more thorough and more recent; if you actually read some of these articles, you'll find that "common sense" (which I take it you're definitively not equating with Occam's Razor, what with all the missing passengers and photos of airplane debris at the Pentagon and huge number of people involved and all) isn't always going to lead you down the right path.
For example, you wouldn't think that WTC 7 was built foolishly, with some individual supports carrying much too much weight, or that someone would have a huge diesel generator on the fifth floor, connected to the basement by a pressurized line (I mean: fire hazard?), but there you have it, evidence of people acting without common sense. Yes, I can find what I think is a highly credibly explanation for all the doubts you stated, and I'll try to remember them next time I catch you preaching the 9/11 word, but this comment is long enough: check them out yourself if you care enough.
Last point, elections. Would you believe the "people in power" if their parties (and histories with Diebold, sad to say) were switched? I'm pretty sure that there is election fraud out there, but the Senate race is far from a lock for the Dems (this week, the clearly left-leaning Slate has had them at a 49-48 margin after midterms) and... I don't know anything about the House races. Who cares about the House?
That's where I'd expect to see fraud, if there was any, though no, I wouldn't suspect a massive interstate conspiracy between Republicans and Diebold, even though I want the Dems to control congress and don't trust Diebold voting machines. It's perfectly reasonable not to assume massive fraud, because for me that's still the kind of thing that falls under "extraordinary claims," and I guess that's the heart of my skepticism of Truther types -- extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.
Be sure to check out the book “Debunking 9/11 Debunking: An Answer to Popular Mechanics and Other Defenders of the Official Conspiracy Theory” due out in March by Dr. David Ray Griffin.
http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?z=y&EAN=9781566566865&itm=2
http://www.amazon.com/Debunking-11-Mechanics-Defenders-Conspiracy/dp/156656686X/sr=1-4/qid=1168895874/ref=sr_1_4/102-3028549-2492937?ie=UTF8&s=books
Thursday, October 19 1:32 AM
TVland definitely not Miami
And with that, PR night is over forever. Would it be shallow to express disgust that Jeffrey, and not Uli or Michael, was the winner?
My vote was with Uli, personally, and while I can admit that Jeffrey's outfits were better than Kayne's, ultimately his persona, not his designs, is what got him this far. The judges were much more forgiving with Jeffrey.
I can't believe I got sucked into this show.
If tonight's post-PR exodus is any guide, I'll miss getting together every Wednesday to watch Project Runway and drink mojitos or box wine or whatever is available. It was quite the surprise, really, to find myself a part of some near-spontaneous weekly meetup.
My vote was with Uli, personally, and while I can admit that Jeffrey's outfits were better than Kayne's, ultimately his persona, not his designs, is what got him this far. The judges were much more forgiving with Jeffrey.
I can't believe I got sucked into this show.
If tonight's post-PR exodus is any guide, I'll miss getting together every Wednesday to watch Project Runway and drink mojitos or box wine or whatever is available. It was quite the surprise, really, to find myself a part of some near-spontaneous weekly meetup.
Monday, October 16 8:51 PM
Cloud Atlas
My interest piqued by Amazon.com's algorithms and Rock Show Girl's recommendation, I finally read Cloud Atlas, which was pretty good, totally up the alley of Chabon fans and all (light-seeming writing, a plot with tasteful loose ends, a few poignant moments like half-buried artifacts), and thanks mostly to the "daring artistry" [sic] of the split-story structure, and some details easily added after the fact, Cloud Atlas is powerful in its current form, more powerful than your usual collection of short stories.
(That is, as long as you can remember everything that happened a few hundred pages ago: I'll admit to paging back. The structure builds tension, but that tension is reliant upon our memory of the various dropped plotlines.)
And yet... Our Bold Hero feels a bit manipulated.
Prophylactic self-deprecation, a sort of knowier-than-thou irony, and a love of interpretation-attracting vacuums: these are the hallmarks of the so-called post-postmodernists. Often it seems that novels like these, though they can still be great to read, aren't so much concerned with being "enjoyable" or "good" as they are with being immune to criticism.
At the risk of sounding very dense: I like this book, but how much of that is because I can't find a way to dislike it, not without losing some imaginary contest with the author?
The book's hidden gem: two chapters called "An Orison of Sonmi-451," which if reassembled could be an excellent stand-alone short story about a Korean neocapitalist dystopia. The satire was delicious, by the way, doing a much better job than Jennifer Government and covering prettymuch the same ground. Anyone who liked Snow Crash and Brave New World should check this book out for a few days and skip right to page 183.
The unbroken story in between, heavily influenced, one assumes, by Riddley Walker, is less good but also worth reading.
(That is, as long as you can remember everything that happened a few hundred pages ago: I'll admit to paging back. The structure builds tension, but that tension is reliant upon our memory of the various dropped plotlines.)
And yet... Our Bold Hero feels a bit manipulated.
Prophylactic self-deprecation, a sort of knowier-than-thou irony, and a love of interpretation-attracting vacuums: these are the hallmarks of the so-called post-postmodernists. Often it seems that novels like these, though they can still be great to read, aren't so much concerned with being "enjoyable" or "good" as they are with being immune to criticism.
At the risk of sounding very dense: I like this book, but how much of that is because I can't find a way to dislike it, not without losing some imaginary contest with the author?
The book's hidden gem: two chapters called "An Orison of Sonmi-451," which if reassembled could be an excellent stand-alone short story about a Korean neocapitalist dystopia. The satire was delicious, by the way, doing a much better job than Jennifer Government and covering prettymuch the same ground. Anyone who liked Snow Crash and Brave New World should check this book out for a few days and skip right to page 183.
The unbroken story in between, heavily influenced, one assumes, by Riddley Walker, is less good but also worth reading.
Saturday, October 14 8:35 AM
House warmed, leftovers now somewhat cold
And then sometimes after drinking, you get up really early. I think, and last night drunken Jenna agreed, that the cook-off/housewarming/potluck was a complete success.
Jenna won a tight race in the Drink category with her trademark Mojitos, and destroyed the competition in the Main Course category with something I can't spell. Of course, we couldn't just keep the prizes for ourselves, so runner-up Carly took home two gifts.
(In my defense, a 9-inch pie crust does not fit atop a 9.5 inch pie plate.)
Notable: There was head-standing to settle the battle of the sexes, and several people very foolishly tried to throw a basketball in a crowded room. Notorious featherweight Jenna drank more alcohol than I have ever seen her consume; this is someone who can barely finish a beer and I think she drank me under the table last night. There was talk of a drinking game much earlier in the night from a housemate, who shall remain anonymous. I think we can all clearly recognize that as fooltalk now.
In retrospect, we bought way too much booze. There are wounded soldiers everywhere, and everyone seemed to be drinking, but a dozen or so people cannot finish two cases of beer and two boxes of wine. We now have what I think is known as a "reserve."
Our Bold Hero wasn't really involved in anything interesting, though I remember listening in on some very strange conversations. I remember defending The Darkness from a technical standpoint, and trying to remind an astonishingly forgetful Graham that, no, we told him about this party many, many times. Once again, J.Go (or whatever he's going by now; I edited something today with a person named JDiddy in it... I guess we could vote) and I ended up talking about comic books for an extended period. There's just too many out there to find all the good stuff without recommendations.
Knowing but not realizing, if you can dig, that it was 2:30 a.m., I attempted to watch a B-movie called Leviathan last night and got about halfway through (no monster yet!). Seems as good of plan as any. Also, shower.
Jenna won a tight race in the Drink category with her trademark Mojitos, and destroyed the competition in the Main Course category with something I can't spell. Of course, we couldn't just keep the prizes for ourselves, so runner-up Carly took home two gifts.
(In my defense, a 9-inch pie crust does not fit atop a 9.5 inch pie plate.)
Notable: There was head-standing to settle the battle of the sexes, and several people very foolishly tried to throw a basketball in a crowded room. Notorious featherweight Jenna drank more alcohol than I have ever seen her consume; this is someone who can barely finish a beer and I think she drank me under the table last night. There was talk of a drinking game much earlier in the night from a housemate, who shall remain anonymous. I think we can all clearly recognize that as fooltalk now.
In retrospect, we bought way too much booze. There are wounded soldiers everywhere, and everyone seemed to be drinking, but a dozen or so people cannot finish two cases of beer and two boxes of wine. We now have what I think is known as a "reserve."
Our Bold Hero wasn't really involved in anything interesting, though I remember listening in on some very strange conversations. I remember defending The Darkness from a technical standpoint, and trying to remind an astonishingly forgetful Graham that, no, we told him about this party many, many times. Once again, J.Go (or whatever he's going by now; I edited something today with a person named JDiddy in it... I guess we could vote) and I ended up talking about comic books for an extended period. There's just too many out there to find all the good stuff without recommendations.
Knowing but not realizing, if you can dig, that it was 2:30 a.m., I attempted to watch a B-movie called Leviathan last night and got about halfway through (no monster yet!). Seems as good of plan as any. Also, shower.
Friday, October 13 5:28 PM
At least the pheasant is done
Stockpot simmering, T-minus two and a half hours. As I was just telling Jenna, my mom wouldn't let us leave the kitchen when we were cooking anything, be it toast or roast. So I get a little nervous in situations like this.
This whole evening, hosting an actual party, has made me a bit nostalgic for my college days. I did enjoy hosting though, more than I perhaps realized — thank god the times weren't tooo exciting, or I'd have endless boring stories.
(At the very least, being around so many Hamlinites on a regular basis has taught me how incredibly boring two-year-old gossip about people I didn't go to college with is. A lesson... I probably could have learned on my own.)
Back to work; this morning Sleepy Dan convinced me that I didn't need to get up at 8, I could reasonably sleep until 9, then he hit the snooze on my internal clock and let me sleep till almost noon, putting me way being schedule. You can't trust that guy.
This whole evening, hosting an actual party, has made me a bit nostalgic for my college days. I did enjoy hosting though, more than I perhaps realized — thank god the times weren't tooo exciting, or I'd have endless boring stories.
(At the very least, being around so many Hamlinites on a regular basis has taught me how incredibly boring two-year-old gossip about people I didn't go to college with is. A lesson... I probably could have learned on my own.)
Back to work; this morning Sleepy Dan convinced me that I didn't need to get up at 8, I could reasonably sleep until 9, then he hit the snooze on my internal clock and let me sleep till almost noon, putting me way being schedule. You can't trust that guy.
Tuesday, October 10 12:25 AM
A couch, and a curse lifted
So we have a real living room now, after finding a couch on the street a block or so away and laboriously bringing it into our apartment. It's not an especially clean couch (Jenna has none-too-subtly indicated that she thinks it's really, really dirty) but that's one of those things I like to call "Tomorrow's Project."
It will get done eventually. In the meantime, it's going to be weird watching PR on Wednesday without fold-out chairs.
Big news: I'm also off the wagon now, having watched the last Law and Order I was interested in seeing. The episode, "Couples," got cut off when I tried to record it a few months ago. Anyone who remembers my daily routine this summer knows this is a big deal.
No more crappy procedural dramas for me, unless Homicide gets a little worse than it already has. And it could. The last episode was already "Blackbird singing in the dead of night" bad. If I want to watch a play, I'll watch one.
[Update: Homicide did get worse, much worse. I had one of those moments when you're watching a show you used to like and other people are in the room, and suddenly you're embarassed by the show. I've removed it from my TiVo schedule, casting it back into the void.]
But why are you reading this? You should be practicing your recipes for Friday. That's right, practicing. Because otherwise, you are going down. We've already purchased the fabulous prizes.
It will get done eventually. In the meantime, it's going to be weird watching PR on Wednesday without fold-out chairs.
Big news: I'm also off the wagon now, having watched the last Law and Order I was interested in seeing. The episode, "Couples," got cut off when I tried to record it a few months ago. Anyone who remembers my daily routine this summer knows this is a big deal.
No more crappy procedural dramas for me, unless Homicide gets a little worse than it already has. And it could. The last episode was already "Blackbird singing in the dead of night" bad. If I want to watch a play, I'll watch one.
[Update: Homicide did get worse, much worse. I had one of those moments when you're watching a show you used to like and other people are in the room, and suddenly you're embarassed by the show. I've removed it from my TiVo schedule, casting it back into the void.]
But why are you reading this? You should be practicing your recipes for Friday. That's right, practicing. Because otherwise, you are going down. We've already purchased the fabulous prizes.
Can I be there in spirit?
Friday, October 6 2:02 AM
From sickness' heart, I e-vite thee
When not waging my never-ending War on Mice, I've been attempting to convalesce from this fluish coldy thing I have.
Though I could have gotten sick from any one of the strangers I've encountered recently, I blame Jenna, Our Lady of Biological Warfare. The girl works in a large office building and refuses to wash her hands more than twice a day. Something about washing your hands giving you warts.
No one with excuses that ridiculous could possibly be blameless. I keep expecting my immune system to take control of my motor functions and douse her with bleach, to prevent further infection.
In case you haven't gotten the e-vite yet, we've set a date for our housewarming/potluck/cook-off. October 13th at 8 p.m. For the cook-off, we ending up deciding on drink, main dish, and dessert as possible categories. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, the kind that binds you indefinitely.
Jenna's getting sick now too, so this place should be germ-free by then. And I keep assuring her that I've killed all the mice in our building now. A whole mouse family.
Bring guests, food, booze, and/or chairs. Or don't bring anything, we're the ones with the crushing responsibility that comes with being a host.
Though I could have gotten sick from any one of the strangers I've encountered recently, I blame Jenna, Our Lady of Biological Warfare. The girl works in a large office building and refuses to wash her hands more than twice a day. Something about washing your hands giving you warts.
No one with excuses that ridiculous could possibly be blameless. I keep expecting my immune system to take control of my motor functions and douse her with bleach, to prevent further infection.
In case you haven't gotten the e-vite yet, we've set a date for our housewarming/potluck/cook-off. October 13th at 8 p.m. For the cook-off, we ending up deciding on drink, main dish, and dessert as possible categories. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, the kind that binds you indefinitely.
Jenna's getting sick now too, so this place should be germ-free by then. And I keep assuring her that I've killed all the mice in our building now. A whole mouse family.
Bring guests, food, booze, and/or chairs. Or don't bring anything, we're the ones with the crushing responsibility that comes with being a host.
I didn't get the e'vite you bitch... Just because I live 1000 miles away doesn't mean I dont have feelings.
Monday, October 2 2:14 AM
Ziggy : dockwork :: Our Bold Hero : editing?
Another reason to love The Wire: "Hamsterdam." You just know something is gonna go awry, but so far I'm intrigued. I've watched three seasons so far and the show still rocks.
Also, and this may be the most ridiculous thing I've ever said... no really, just wait for it: I think I've gotten much better at spotting drug dealers.
It's because of The Wire, season two in particular, that I've associated the last week of editing with dock work. I would get up, check my company's website, and see if the proverbial ship had come in. If it had, I worked.
Ships of words and sentences. What a wonderful world that would be.
Usually there just wasn't work to be had; perhaps that's one reason why this week seemed unusually boozy and exciting. I met some people (I remember long conversations about Firefly, grammatical conventions, and the history of ska) and I'm actually missing ten minutes of my life, for the first time since junior year of college. Tomorrow, however, is the start of a new month, so I should have regular work again. My life already feels a bit more ordered.
I'll still have time for side projects, side projects more interesting than playing videogames or trapping our apartment's overly-bold mouse (though that was a sweet victory). What exactly, I'm not quite sure...
Also, and this may be the most ridiculous thing I've ever said... no really, just wait for it: I think I've gotten much better at spotting drug dealers.
It's because of The Wire, season two in particular, that I've associated the last week of editing with dock work. I would get up, check my company's website, and see if the proverbial ship had come in. If it had, I worked.
Ships of words and sentences. What a wonderful world that would be.
Usually there just wasn't work to be had; perhaps that's one reason why this week seemed unusually boozy and exciting. I met some people (I remember long conversations about Firefly, grammatical conventions, and the history of ska) and I'm actually missing ten minutes of my life, for the first time since junior year of college. Tomorrow, however, is the start of a new month, so I should have regular work again. My life already feels a bit more ordered.
I'll still have time for side projects, side projects more interesting than playing videogames or trapping our apartment's overly-bold mouse (though that was a sweet victory). What exactly, I'm not quite sure...
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