Blackfive Tries Too Hard

Matt Blackfive’s got a really well documented entry about how George Bush is not responsible for the loss of 2.21 gigamillion jobs. I don’t know who he’s writing it for, though. People who will vote for Bush understand the limited effect the presidency and the entire government have on the grand economy (which is too much as it is, but not much overall). Some people who won’t vote for Bush mutter that those who lost jobs were all whistleblowers almost capable of exposing the vast Haliburton-Texas Rangers conspiracy.

So Matty’s wasting his time if he thinks he’s going to convince anyone with facts and reason. As a matter of fact, much as dogs only hear part of what is said to them, Bush opponents will only hear a certain portion of what Matt writes.

When Matt says:

Jobs lost in the first 8 months January 20th to September 11th is pegged at 1.2 million. How much of this is actually attributable to President Bush is the question. In April of 2001, the U.S. lost 423, 000 jobs. Can someone tell me exactly which policy was responsible for this?

Jobs were lost due to the teror attacks of September 11th (obvious ones like travel and lodging industry, aerospace, transportation). Boeing cut 30,000 jobs. New York City alone lost over 80,000 jobs due to the attack in the year after 9/11 . 22,000 jobs were in the vicinity of the World Trade Center. 800,000 jobs were lost in November and December of 2001.

The fact is that a lot of jobs were lost over the last few years for many reasons; however, it will be tough for Democrats to accurately pin them on the Bush Administration and not a world-wide recession, the dot-bomb bust, corporate corruption (Enron, World-Com) and 9/11.

Now, what about recovery?

The biggest indicator of an economic turn around, IMHO, is my place of employment. We were directed by our (very conservative) board to cut 20% across the company on October 1, 2001. I lead the IT Department. It didn’t matter if one department had a greater need or not, everyone had to cut 20%. This was a defensive reaction to September 11th. No one knew what would happen to the economy (which was already weak), and, when there is economic uncertainty, jobs get cut through various means – for example, hiring freezes and position consolidations. Also, think about your own spending after September 11th. Did you change your vacations, savings, will, retirement plan because of September 11th? I did. I put more into savings and spread it out among different banks. When you spend less money, less items are bought. When less items are bought, supply goes up and productivity goes down. When productivity goes down, jobs get cut.

They hear:

Jobs lost blah blah blah blah blah is actually attributable to President Bush blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah ?

Jobs were lost blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah 800,000 jobs were lost blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

blah blah blah blah blah a lot of jobs were lost blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah accurately pin them on the Bush Administration and blah blah blah blah blah corporate corruption (Enron, World-Com) blah.

blah what blah recovery?

blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah cut 20% across the company on October 1, 2001. blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah the economy blah blah weak, blah blah blah blah blah economic uncertainty, jobs get cut blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah jobs get cut.

Nice try, Matt, but you’re scolding deaf puppies on this one.

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Unfair and Imbalanced

Number 1 headline on this Sunday’s St. Louis Post-Dispatch: Dangerous Cargo on Our Roads, Rails. Of course, if you were expecting a good, balanced view of the sometimes dangerous but necessary transporation of hazardous materials, you should wait for the story in the Atlantic Monthly.

How’s the Post-Dispatch do? Well, let’s see what we have. Lead:

PALMYRA, Mo. – First came the early morning rap on the door. Then came the coughing, the burning eyes.

In the frantic moments that followed a May 17, 2003, hydrochloric acid spill on nearby U.S. Highway 61, Shorti Garner and her husband, Steve, woke their children and piled them into the family camper to flee their home.

“My kids – in blankets and all – I scooped them up,” Shorti Garner said.

A nice play-on-the-emotions anecdote. Anecdotes! Who can deny that it’s a frightening situation? I live within a mile of the confluence of two Interstate highways and have train tracks. (Well, I am not a naturalist, but I assume a train left them. They’re two big for cat tracks.) I am right in the danger zone for a spill, but I don’t worry about it.

Why? Because every year four hundred people die from these sorts of accidents. That’s not a high number, considering all the stuff travelling about. I would expect more hit and run deaths than deaths from hydrochloric acid exposure from these things leaking.

But that’s not the Post-Dispatch’s point. Now, they don’t delve into issues such as alternate means of transportation, such as dogsleds, homing pigeons, or anything that would be safer. They also don’t explain why dangerous chemicals are transported this way, that these chemicals are used to make things people want to buy.

No, I guess the only thing the Post-Dispatch wants to do is panic its stupid readers (whether it thinks its readers are stupid, or whether the people who read it and panic are stupid, I leave to history to decide) and blame the cause of the panic on big greedy corporations who behave irresponsibly at the expense of the little man. Unlike Pulitzer Publishing.

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Conspoonmer’s Report Best Buy

Conspoonmer Reports labeled the PlayStation 2 game Karaoke Revolution a Best Buy (much better than its prequels The Karaoke and Karaoke Reloaded), so Heather and I got it last night.

We didn’t have the headset controller, so we bought a kit with a headset in it; unfortunately this proved to be product that fit into the back of the PLayStation to make it into a DVD Karaoke machine, not the USB headset that lets you interact with the game. Oops. Well, it came with a karaoke DVD of its own, so we could attempt to sing along with Avril Levain’s latest hits, or we could buy a USB headset. So we went out. And spent another thirty bucks.

Well, instead of lamenting our stupidity and or returning the karaoke kit, I think we’ll have to have a karaoke party.

However, don’t compete against Heather in Karaoke Revolutions. I think the designers probably expected normal people to take more than one run through every song to win the game. But Heather has never been normal.

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No Exposition

While watching Two Mules for Sister Sara on Friday night, I noted to my beautiful wife, who ordered the movie on NetFlix and asked me to watch with her (because of my vast love for her, I tolerate chick flicks like this one), that the movie offered no expository information. No scrolling text to explain why Juáristas were or what the hell the French were doing in Mexico in the 1860s. Astounding.

I’m not sure whether that’s because:

  • Educational standards in 1970 meant that viewers knew that much about Mexican history.
  • Western fans might be expected to know enough history to have picked that up.
  • Who cares why? It’s Clint Eastwood!

Interesting things to speculate on. I knew. If you’re interested, check out the Wikipedia entry for Benito Juárez and click around.

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The Black Corridor by Michael Moorcock (1969)

I paid a dollar for this book at Hooked on Books in Springfield, Missouri. It was on the rack of cheap books that they keep outside the store because they don’t care if someone loots them. That’s the kind of book I bought for a dollar.

The book takes place aboard a space ship containing survivors from Earth’s social breakdown, en route to a planet around Barnard’s Star. All but one are in suspension for the trip, leaving a single person to wander the ship for the five year trip, checking on automatic instruments and going mad with guilt for the sins he committed while stealing the ship. And others.

Much of the book is told in flashback, flashbacks to an Ehrlichian future imagined by those whacky Brits in the period between world wars. The remainder of it represents a descent into paranoia and a climactic delirium that almost tells the untold story, but allows the user to concoct his own meaning if he cares to. Okay, I did a little the night I finished the book, but that’s it.

It’s a light read and I spent only a couple of nights on it. It helped that many of the 184 pages featured concrete poetry, drawing words on the page with other letter much like ASCII art. At least it got that part of the future right.

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Book Review: All the Trouble in the World by P. J. O’Rourke (1994)

Book Review: All the Trouble in the World by P. J. O’Rourke (1994)

This book examines some of the worst problems that the world thought it faced in the 1990s: Overpopulation, famine, ethnic hatred, plague, poverty, and such; for each chapter, P. J. O’Rourke goes beyond the statistics proffered by the movements and think tanks to examine the roots of the issues in the fertile beds in which they grow. As you can expect, he presents his usual irreverent viewpoint in smirky prose. For example, the chapters bear these titles:

  1. Fashionable Worries If Meat Is Murder, Are Eggs Rape?
  2. Overpopulation Just Enough of Me, Way Too Much of You
  3. Famine All Guns, No Butter
  4. Environment The Outdoors and How It Got There
  5. Ecology We’re All Going to Die
  6. Saving the Earth We’re All Going to Die Anyway
  7. Multiculturalism Going from Bad to Diverse
  8. Plague Sick of It All
  9. Economic Justice The Hell with Everything, Let’s Get Rich

Within each of the chapters, O’Rourke visits a symptomatic location that exemplifies the problem. For “Overpopulation”, he ventures to Bangladesh and learns why so many people want to live there (it’s the most fertile soil on the planet) and muses about how overcrowded man really is by comparing population densities of other locations (such as if the entire population of the planet in 1995 would scrunch together with the population density of Manhattan, we could all fit inside a region the size of the former Yugoslavia. Bangladesh has the same population density as the suburban city of Fremont, California, so O’Rourke delves into why the country seems so overcrowded and Fremont seems so American. Therein lies the rub; American government and society are open and dynamic, whereas Bangladesh’s government is not. They have a Ministry of Jute, designed to promote jute, the leading agricultural export of Bangladesh. You know, jute–the key ingredient in burlap, which was a very popular packing material a hundred years ago.

O’Rourke gets behind the pamphlets and examines not only causes, but the factors that lead to the continuation of problems as well as some amusing extrapolations: You want to embrace diversity? They have in the Balkans. Of course, that’s not the tribalism that comes from diversity, it’s the tribalism that comes from private ownership of guns, undoubtedly.

When O’Rourke’s on, he’s amusing to read, biting, and obviously arguing from a wealth of background. When he’s not, he’s simply presenting a travelogue of places he’s traveled and drank. Still, this book is more of the former, which is what I expected from the title.

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Compare and Contrast Assignment

Class, here’s your compare and contrast assignment for tonight:

Police in the Middle West:

Three men from the West Coast were hauling more than horses Tuesday afternoon in their trailer, authorities said – they also had $835,500 in cash stashed in a hidden compartment.

An Illinois State Police trooper and U.S. Customs agents found the money after the trooper pulled the 1999 Dodge pickup over for speeding about 3:50 p.m. Tuesday on Interstate 55, north of Litchfield, said Trooper Doug Francis, a spokesman for the agency’s District 18.

The discovery wasn’t mere happenstance. U.S. Customs had tipped off police that the trailer might contain cash, Francis said.

When the three men allowed police to search the truck and trailer, a drug-sniffing dog alerted on the vehicle, Francis said. Officers did not find drugs, Francis said, but “something was there at one time or another.”

The Illinois State Police seized the cash pending further investigation.

Lt. Brian Hollo, the district’s interim commander, said that state and federal statutes give police the power to seize money if they believe it is drug-related.

Hollo said it was the largest cash seizure ever for the district, which covers Calhoun, Greene, Jersey, Macoupin and Montgomery counties.

But police had no legal reason to hold the men or their three horses, so they were free to continue their trip, Francis said.

As for the money – Francis said, “If they can come up with proof that the money is theirs, we’ll give it back to them.”

Police in the Middle East:

At night, the police presence is most evident. On the city’s central streets, they make high-speed patrols, at times in groups that make the task appear more like a joyride. There are no other cars to be seen and there’s virtually no one on the streets, save the employees of Baghdad’s single 24-hour shop and the handful of restaurants that stay open late, mostly to serve the cops.

The police, however, do not receive credit for the apparent drop in crime. “It’s because no one stays out,” said Hassan Mahdi, the owner of the 24-hour shop. “The police are no good.”

But just because the streets are filled with police does not necessarily mean they’re safe. A journalist walking back to his hotel at around 3am on a recent morning made the mistaken assumption that it would be fine because only police were out. He was stopped and asked for his identity card three times during the 10-minute stroll. The third group of police also took US$100 from his wallet, after he showed an American passport.

Extra credit if you can work in this joke (reprinted here from another essay:

I’m reminded of the joke about the man who offered a woman $1 million to sleep with him – her resonse was a hasty “Sure!” When he countered with an offer of only $50, her response changed to “Absolutely Not! What kind of woman do you think I am?” His response … “Lady, we’ve already settled that question – now we’re just haggling over price!

(Link to Iraqi story seen on The Art of Peace, where I browsed at the behest of Winds of Change.)

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A Quiz for AJC

How geek am I?

    You are 38% geek

    You are a geek liaison, which means you go both ways. You can hang out with normal people or you can hang out with geeks which means you often have geeks as friends and/or have a job where you have to mediate between geeks and normal people. This is an important role and one of which you should be proud. In fact, you can make a good deal of money as a translator.

    Normal: Tell our geek we need him to work this weekend.

    You [to Geek]: We need more than that, Scotty. You’ll have to stay until you can squeeze more outta them engines!

    Geek [to You]: I’m givin’ her all she’s got, Captain, but we need more dilithium crystals!

    You [to Normal]: He wants to know if he gets overtime.

    Take the Polygeek Quiz at Thudfactor.com

That’s almost as geek as you want a doc-u-matic 3000. However, I would like to point out I am geek enough to have troubleshot the result code provided by ThudFactor before prompted, and I am slightly more geek than Trey Givens upon whose site I first saw the quiz.

P.S. Trey, I know what your pseudonym means–you’re so 0wn3d!

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Under the Beltway

Over at Wizbang!, Kevin Aylward describes what happens when you write to your member of Congress:

Inbound letters and calls are ‘issue coded’. For example, if you write a letter to your representative in which you urge the member to support gun control legislation, the staff members who open and read the mail enter a record of the correspondence and select a gun control issue code. If you address multiple topics you get multiple codes.

The staffer at that point has the option of creating a response (which as I recall they usually do) by picking one or more items from a list of issue talking points.

Keep that in mind when any of you (El Guapo) write to your representative. Your call is important to us….please stay on the line and you will be answered in the order your call was received…..

It also explains an experience my mother had writing to her representative, Richard “Il DicK” Gephardt. She wrote complaining that her particular military command was becoming a fully non-smoking environment; his reply was that he was really trying to keep the command open.

She voted for Wheelehan, Federer, and would have even written in her dog’s name on even-numbered years to keep from voting for him.

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To Coin A Phrase

To blight: (tr.v.) To condemn, as a city, the lawful property of one person or corporation to hand it over to another corporation or person, to enhance the revenue of the governing municipality.

Sample usage:

The Board of Aldermen in December 2002 agreed to blight the Target site, allowing the city to ask a judge to condemn it.

Put that in your usage guide and burn it.

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Fallacy of the Distributed Middle

I hope it’s not too anti-Semitic of me to make fun of a a turn of phrase by “officials” of the Jewish Community Center (JCC, or as its otherwise known, “The J”) in Broken Heart, Missouri. In addition to razing a larger building for a small one as its membership declines, the leaders are looking for way to save money to help bridge a budget gap. This includes:

Increased use of off-campus sites for JCC programs, turning the JCC into a center “without walls.”

A center. Without walls. Without, perhaps ideally for these “officials,” without a center.

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Confession

My sophomore year in high school, I took a class in Creative Writing with Ms. Williams. It was Mrs. Williams, actually, much to the dismay of fantastic fifteen year-old boys. But I remember the class vividly. For an early exercise in creative writing, the delightful blonde nymph respected shaper of young minds, divided the class into groups. The assignment: to write a page of a short story. When the groups finished their segments, we passed the story to the group on our right, who would add a segment to the story, and so on, until each group had a turn with the story. Here, Tyrone Jackson was born.

Ah, Tyrone Jackson. The middle-aged rabbi from Thailand. Dan, Troy, Jim, and I concocted this character from the fevered imaginations of our adolescence, somewhere amid the giggling (which we would have called chuckling, but our voices were still changing, so it was probably giggling). We injected Jackson into every story passed to us. He suffered a number of untimely deaths and dismemberments once the group to our right determined what we were doing. At the end of the exercise, the groups had to rewrite their original stories using elements from the other groups’ contributions. So our group, ignoring the ignoble assaults on our hero, rewrote the story. Or Dan, Troy, and Jim did; I abstained, as they were not doing our hero justice. Although we got a passing grade turned on whatever they turned in, I was not satisfied. I had greater dreams for Jackson. Thus begat The Further Adventures of Tyrone Jackson.

My first book, hem, was a collection of short stories that chronicled how Tyrone Jackson would have infected all other stories and myths before him. However, each hero must have his arch-enemy, and Jackson discovered his when he met the leader of the Venusian invasion in the undersea base wherein the Venusians were keeping Jackson’s pet bunny Manerd.

“Lyndon LaRouche? You’re the dude from those dippy TV specials!”

Lyndon LaRouche became Tyrone Jackson’s archenemy. When Jackson consulted with his guru on Mount Everest, it was LaRouche sending the Soviet Spetsnaz after him….or James Bond….or maybe MacGyver, who happened to be mountain climbing at the time. When Tyrone Jackson stole Doctor Who’s Tardis, he uncovered Lin Don La Ru was the mortal enemy of Tai Ron Ja Sing in feudal Japan. LaRouche was the all-powerful Denfather in the alternate earth where the Cub Scouts had taken over. Like some archetype or eternal conflict, wherever Jackson encountered his match, it was LaRouche. Jackson always won, though, but LaRouche got away to fight another day… or in another time….

So when I went into the local polling place tonight, the collection of aged election judges asked me whether I what ballot I wanted. “Democrat,” I said. When I was alone in my voting stall and confronted with my allotment of possible choices, I voted for Lyndon LaRouche.

I admit, I have heard his commercials on KMOX radio comparing Ashcroft to Hitler. I have not seen any of his television specials, either, whether sixteen years ago or last week. But I voted for him anyway. Not because he’s got a chance of winning, and not because I think Joe has a chance of beating el Johnissimo. But for old times’ sake.

LaRouche has been a punchline of mine for almost twenty years. Who knows if I’d ever get a chance to vote for him again?

Somewhere, amid the hundreds of lost loose-leaf pages of Tyrone Jackson’s further adventures, undoubtedly Jackson is cursing the the villian’s luck once again. And tomorrow, when I review the election results, I shall recognize my vote among LaRouche’s handful.

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All Right

Although I went into the polling place with every intention to vote for LaRouche, it rankled. I was throwing away the right I had to determine the fate of the nation, or perhaps the direction of the nation, to a joke, a private joke that only me or Jim or Mike (the only possible owner for an extant remaining copy of The Further Adventures of Tyrone Jackson) would get, and I don’t even talk to them any more.

Around the world, people don’t have the opportunity to select their own leaders. Selected not elected, RIH you gamers. Here, when presented with my duty to myself and my countrymen, I made a selection almost arbitrarily.

Yet, were I to vote my conscience in this Democrat primary, it wouldn’t have mattered. Joe Liberalman might have been the best of a bad lot, although I have to admit I have no idea who Fern Penna is or what Fern Penna might do for our country. I only had the ballot because Missouri’s an open primary. I’m voting Bush in the November election regardless. ‘Nuff said.

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But I Voted

I also voted a hearty, hi-ho, heck no, to the Metropolitan Sewer District’s bid to float a bond issue or raise taxes, or whatever MSD might have meant with this glurge:

To comply with federal and state clean water requirements, shall The Metropolitan St. Louis Sewer District (MSD) issue its sewer system revenue bonds in the amount of Five Hundred Million Dollars ($500,000,000) for the purpose of constructing, improving, renovating, repairing, replacing and equipping new and existing MSD sewer facilities and system, including acquisition of easements and real property related thereto, the cost of operation and maintenance of said sewer system and the principal of and interest on said revenue bonds to be payable solely from the revenues derived by MSD from the operation of its sewer system, including all future extensions and improvements thereto?

Hell, no. Because when the costs are overrun and the revenue projections fall short, or if you’re too busy lining the pockets (and maybe a couple of purses and handy bags to carry the ph4t l00t), guess what? Time for another big IOU or rate increase.

If you cannot deal with it from the revenues already derived hereto from the operation of the sewer system, don’t do it. Sewer system! Pah! We drink bottled water, wine, and beer here at Honormoor and we wash our dishes in Listerine. A pox on ye all!

On the other hand, congratulations to MSD for being corruption free for 128 days now. Nothing that half a billion dollars wouldn’t cure.

(Funny how tax/rate increases/bond issues end up on the ballot for elections with light turnout, ainna?)

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