Yes, Ms. McGovern, they know it’s Christmas. They’re kids, for ding-donging out loud.
(Apologies to Jeff Goldstein for stealing his groove. Well, not really.)
To be able to say "Noggle," you first must be able to say "Nah."
Yes, Ms. McGovern, they know it’s Christmas. They’re kids, for ding-donging out loud.
(Apologies to Jeff Goldstein for stealing his groove. Well, not really.)
Whenever I read a story like the one I saw on CNN.com entitled “Bush pressed for more Net security“, I immediately start putting the words crony and capitalist together and start leaving laissez-faire alone. For once we get into the details-that is, the first paragraphs-we see what this group wants:
Computer-security experts, including former government officials, urged the Bush administration on Tuesday to devote more effort to strengthening defenses against viruses, hackers and other online threats.
The Bush administration should spend more on computer-security research, share threat information with private-sector security vendors, and set up an emergency computer network that would remain functional during Internet blackouts, a computer-security trade group said.
It’s a trade group, which represents companies that take money to do computer security services such as researching computer-security, sharing threat information with private sector security vendors (each other), and setting up emergency computer networks to remain functional during Internet blackouts. That is, the trade group wants the government to devote money to pay to the trade group’s members. The call is as relevant as any group of potato farmers or mohair ranchers shrieking that the people of the United States need their product to survive.
I am alarmed, however, with the amount of play and seriousness given to the idea that the government should do something to ensure the security of computer networks. As companies have sacrificed security in developing their infrastructures and network capabilities in favor of cost savings, expediency, and convenience, they should not expect a government bailout now. The government undoubtedly should expend public funds to ensure that its capabilities remain intact during an emergency, but it shouldn’t retrofit, expensively and bureauwastefully, security for any factory or utility that placed its flow controls online on the Internet for convenience and a chance to lay off people who would have to check those controls in person. I don’t want to spend tax money to ensure that my bank is secure nor that my credit card companies can weather an attack, nor to ensure that my power company can continue delivering amperage down my pipes; that’s a cost of business, which the businesses often pass on to me through service fees and surcharges so that those costs don’t come out of the profit margin and the shareholder’s take.
However, since these lobbyists want the best of all worlds: surcharges to charge consumers for the cost of business and the government, and by that I mean us taxpayers, actually paying for the costs of business. Since the customer or taxpayer backlash hasn’t arisen, Willie, it’s go time.
As a taxpayer and a customer, I don’t look forward to the expanding synergy between government security administration and private industry. Let’s take an example from recent history: airports. Airlines, leaky boats which the government frequently bails out with buckets of taxpayer cash, and airport authorities, government bureaucracies in their own right in many cases and not very good at for-profit in others, abdicated their obligation to secure their places of business. First, they took government funds to pay for their own surly security employees, and when that wasn’t enough, the government stepped in and provided its own employees, surly and unaccountable to the private sector, to grope grandma.
So call it a slippery slope if you will, but private/public partnerships do resemble a water park. If a group of lobbyists paid highly by companies, whether profitable or failing, calls for government aid, they often get more than we customers or taxpayers want or deserve. Imagine a decade hence, when companies have pissed away the government funding on efforts to secure further government funding–which is where most government funding goes, even in the government. The private-public partnership has failed, and some legislator who wants to get on television midwifes the Computer Security Administration (CSA). This new authority dictates that computer owners must install the government flavor of McAfee anti-virus and must allow the government to schedule scans twice a week. Anyone who does not let the government perform its security function, loosely defined by Congress and arbitrarily envisioned by a mid-level Homeland Security manager looking forward to a better appointed position, faces a fine or felony charges just like impudent fliers do now. Our leadership class explains that responsible Internet travellers must accept this sacrifice, and the media will find some AOL user to explain that it’s a good idea and doesn’t impair his experience at all (it wouldn’t). The government gets to scan your hard drive every night for the good of the nation, and if you don’t like it, in four years you can vote for a different legislator too timid to agitate for its reversal.
Once the government takes over the security, all customer ill will regarding the inconvenience and the intrusiveness of the practices goes to the government and its employees, and the companies and their trade groups can only shrug their collectivist shoulders and say to their customers, sorry, it’s the government running its fingers over your shapely posterior, not us. All responsibility for irresponsibility successfully shirked, the trade groups can turn their attention to the next government handout–and hand over.
Sound crazy? Imagine what you would have thought about current TSA practices in 1994. Or 1987.
To make a short story long, Internet and corporate network security are not the government’s business. They’re the exclusive burden of companies who choose to participate in networks and of the consortia and standards bodies and organizations, well, organized by private industry. If our “capitalist” industries cede that obligation to the government, they’re putting their short term cost savings ahead of the ultimate best interests of their customers and the interests of the citizens of the Republic.
Thanks, Jon Dolan, Missouri State Senator from Lake St. Louis and an alleged “Republican,” for cooking up this stupid waste of tax money: “Visitors will know Miss USA is ours“:
Stan Musial hasn’t had one. Neither has Chuck Berry. In fact, no St. Louisan has been honored with his or her name posted on a state highway sign leading into Missouri. But that’s about to change.
Starting next year, motorists driving west over the Poplar, Jefferson Barracks and Interstate 270 bridges into Missouri will be greeted with this: “Welcome to Missouri. Home of Shandi Finnessey Miss USA 2004.”
Not to put too fine a point of it, but by that time, it will be that Miss USA was ours, once, sometime around the turn of the century, like the World’s Fair.
Jumping jesuits, but that’s a lot of money to laud a transitory and ultimately unimportant honor. For the love of peat, why?
“She’s a hottie, and she’s a smarty,” said state Sen. Jon Dolan, R-Lake Saint Louis, whose idea it was to put up the signs.
Dude, next time you try to impress a woman, how about you expend a little of your own money to send flowers?
Fresh from triumphs in determining whom restaurant and bar owners whom those business owners can serve on their private property, government officials in Philadelphia now want to determine whom theatre owners can serve by limiting children under the age of 6 from some screenings. By law.
Mainly, I suspect, because although the human condition doesn’t change that rapidly, but because legislating is a full time job and computer solitaire can only fill so many hours in the day.
Whistles do not belong in Christmas carols, ever. Your rendition of “Frosty the Snowman” is in violation.
Please, just rein it in a little bit, or we’ll have to contact Senator John McCain to enact Congressional legislation regulating Christmas Carols to prevent damn kids from destroying the traditional music enjoyed for generations in this great land. Without schnucking whistles.
(McCain’s got enough time if he has the leisure to tackle steroids in baseball, speaking of which, who doesn’t think that there’s enough bipartisan, nationwide sport to just freaking amend the constitution to prohibit steroids and blood doping in all sports?)
Apparently not some members of the St. Louis Blues, who are keeping themselves sharp during the NHL lockout by playing on a local recreational league.
It’s probably doing more to promote the sport than most NHL owners have done, combined, in the last couple of decades.
Apparently, according to several unnamed sources, obese Americans are breaking cruise ships with their weight.
Not obese passengers, but obese Americans.
I’ve not seen that many unnamed sources since I read a the recap of a leaked story in the New York Times.
Undoubtedly, America is to blame for earwax, belly button lint, and static cling as well.
In 1973, my inlaws lived in Michigan and travelled to Florida on occasion to see my mother-in-law’s parents. As they passed through Wisconsin, they boarded a small plane for the final leg of their journey. An icon adored throughout upper Midwest boarded the plane with them: Green Bay Packers legend Bart Starr.
As he passed my mother-in-law, already seated and holding her child in her arms, Bart Starr patted my future wife on the shoulder and said, “Pretty baby.”
Proving that he was a prophet as well, for she turned out more than pretty.
From the February 2004 issue of The Writer in a column entitled “Writers in good company” by Benjamin Cheever:
Why did I choose to be a writer? I was born to the trade. My father was a writer, my mother is, my sister.
Whew, that was close. The fellow was one comma away from saying my mother is my sister. That’s demonstrating some faith that your copy editor isn’t passive-aggressive.
Apparently someone in New Hampshire has determined that online sex offender registries are one-stop shopping for his vigilantism: Man defends attacks on sex offenders:
Lawrence Trant sees himself as a righteous crusader who put muscle behind his boiling outrage against pedophiles.
The state of New Hampshire sees Trant differently. He is serving a 10- to 30-year sentence in New Hampshire State Prison after pleading guilty to attempting to murder two convicted sex offenders whose names and addresses he found on an Internet registry posted by the state.
Check out the subtitle of the article: Crusader gets jail term.
This attempted murderer, according to the Boston Globe, is a crusader. A veritable insurgent against the prevailing orthodoxy that these people retain a number of citizens’ rights to not getting shot arbitrarily by people with nothing better to do. A rebel against the system that thinks that incarceration, forced hospitalization beyond their sentences, and notoriety, and that capital punishment is too much for the crime.
I remember an outcry when a pro-dead-abortion provider Web site listed doctors who terminated pregnancy along with good stalking information for them. I imagine we’ll see less uproar over a government-funded registry that provides the same convenience for other Defenders of the Defenseless Children.
I inherited this book from my grandmother and grandfather indirectly. So I didn’t pay anything for it, and the book is worth more than that.
It’s a set of lessons and steps to playing well with others. Unlike other self-help tomes, this one’s particularly literate. Carnegie draws on Benjamin Franklin, William James, William Shakespeare, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and other learned sources to make his points. He wrote this book originally in 1936, and it would testify to how far we’ve fallen as a culture if Dr. Phil only quotes luminaries such as Oprah in his books. After all, Carnegie must have expected his audience would know who William James was.
At the best of times, this book resembles all self-help books in presenting the philosophy of pragmatism, particularly in dealing with other people. Sometimes it reads like an Elements of Style for courtesy, but at its worst it strikes me as a sort of Becoming Peter Keating. After all, Carnegie would have you win friends and influence people by being pretty yang, by putting other people first and by not contradicting others directly.
I’ve seen too much of this behaviour from used car salesmen and marketing professionals to swallow the hook, but it’s convinced me to try to temper my natural surly nature. For example, I try to keep my net Carnegie Karma positive by not saying harshly critical things about people more than I compliment people. However, some days I still net positive through accounting gimmicks, such as telling another driver that his exceptional amorous ability undoubtedly traces to practice with his matriarch, but I’m working on it.
The book sold millions of copies in an earlier, more civil age, so perhaps there is something in it.
Brainsaver: When you close your eyes and see the game upon which you’ve spent too much time over the last couple of days.
For a holiday special:
Ayn Rand’s A Selfish Christmas (1951)
In this hour-long radio drama, Santa struggles with the increasing demands of providing gifts for millions of spoiled, ungrateful brats across the world, until a single elf, in the engineering department of his workshop, convinces Santa to go on strike. The special ends with the entropic collapse of the civilization of takers and the spectacle of children trudging across the bitterly cold, dark tundra to offer Santa cash for his services, acknowledging at last that his genius makes the gifts — and therefore Christmas — possible. Prior to broadcast, Mutual Broadcast System executives raised objections to the radio play, noting that 56 minutes of the hour-long broadcast went to a philosophical manifesto by the elf and of the four remaining minutes, three went to a love scene between Santa and the cold, practical Mrs. Claus that was rendered into radio through the use of grunts and the shattering of several dozen whiskey tumblers. In later letters, Rand sneeringly described these executives as “anti-life.”
That’s what I make of this capitalization from this story about a drug bust in Wisconsin:
Along with the arrests, police seized powder cocaine, crack cocaine, marijuana, heroin and Ecstasy, seven handguns and ammunition, seven vehicles and $25,000 in cash. Police refused to give details.
However, if that’s the case, shouldn’t it be:
Along with the arrests, police seized powder cocaine, crack cocaine, marijuana, heroin and Ecstasy® 3-4 methylenedioxymethamphetamine, seven handguns and ammunition, seven vehicles and $25,000 in cash. Police refused to give details.
Ecstasy has been in the mainstream 20 years now. How long until we drop the capital E. (I mean that in the grammatical way, not as a slang for actually, you know, doing ecstasy.) No one calls white lady Heroin any more.
Those Bosnian peacekeepers will be home before Christmas.
Bobtails are not bobcat tails. Management cannot be held responsible if you try to affix bells to the latter.
Thank you for your cooperation.
This article about the serial killer in Kansas known as Blind, Torture, Kill, gives numerous details about the killer that he’s revealed about himself in new missives:
According to police, BTK claims to have been born in 1939, making the killer either 64 or 65 years old. The statement did not say where he was born or where he lived, but that his family moved frequently and always lived near railroad tracks.
BTK’s communications indicate a lifelong fascination with trains, police said.
… Among other details provided by police:
BTK’s father was killed in World War II, and he was raised by his mother, with his grandparents caring for him while she was at work. When he was about 11, his mother began dating a railroad detective.
His grandfather played the fiddle and died of lung disease.
BTK’s communications include accounts of a cousin named Susan who moved to Missouri, and of a woman he knew named Petra who had a younger sister named Tina.
Unstated, but obvious to anyone who reads too much detective fiction and dabbles sometimes in the composition of same, is this unspoken but apparent klew:
Since he’s only now opening up to the police after apparently going without killing anyone for 18 years and he’s in his middle sixties and he’s got a history of lung disease in the family.
His final mockery comes as he reveals himself on his deathbed when we cannot punish him.
Blackfive speaks about ribbon magnets for your car and suggests you put that money somewhere where it will actually help troops. I concur.
The Meatriarchy guy defends Wal-Mart:
Most of the criticisms I see leveled towards Wal-Mart are not only applicable to them. But to any other store in the retail sector.
He refutes a lot of things anti-Wal-Mart forces marshal as arguments to why capitalism, or at least the concrete capitalism practiced specifically by Wal-Mart, is bad.
I bought this hardback book from Hooked on Books in Springfield (Missouri) for 33 cents (part of 3 for $1). Hey, it was worth it.
I don’t read a lot of horror because it really doesn’t scare me, but I bought this book because I figured it was worth the price. It was. It’s a collection of short stories dealing with ghosts and whatnot around trains. The fiction within the book splits its time between the United States and England, with most of the pieces appropriately enough set in the late part of the ninteenth century or the early twentieth. In between the stories, the editor recounts several real alleged hauntings near rails that might have inspired the stories.
A fairly even collection, with some highs and some lows (Algernon Blackwood, unfortunately). Stories by Charles Dickens, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and others.
Worth a look if you’re into that sort of thing.