Some People See a Whale Tail; I See A Loophole

Looks like Louisiana’s about to extend its nanny state to picking clothes for its children by outlawing low-riding pants:

House Bill 1626, also known as the “Baggy Pants Bill” states: “It shall be unlawful for any person to appear in public wearing his pants below his waist and thereby exposing his skin or intimate clothing.”

Have your attorneys file for an exclusive disjunction injunction. It will confuse the judge, undoubtedly, just as easily as I have confused myself and you.

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Sounds Like a Hostile Workplace To Me

Hidden in the ombudsman column of the Boston Globe wherein said ombudsperson explains the chain of events that led to the Globe printing a story about a rabble-rousing city selectman or whatever anachronism those staid New Englanders have in lieu of alderpeople who pee in trashcans during a filibuster who waved around a bunch of photographs depicting American soldiers raping Iraqi women–photographs long debunked here in the blogosphere as having come from topical pornography–we find this interesting admission from the ombudsperson:

Various sources last week said the photos displayed by Turner came from a pornography website, and they may well have, although I could not trace it to the source.

One has to wonder how hard Christine Chinlund scoured the Web for a particular set of pornographic pictures and how many sites she reviewed in the course of her research. And if it constitutes a “hostile workplace” for her co-workers, or if “I was looking for the source of photos of alleged improprieties on the part of American soldiers” works when the boss catches you.

(For more information, see Media Log by Dan Kennedy for May 14, 2004.)

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Comic Relief

It’s good to remember that some absurdity remains in the world:

Cuban President Fidel Castro launched an immense anti-American protest on Friday with denunciations and ridicule of President Bush, saying the U.S. leader was fraudulently elected and trying to impose “world tyranny.”

The Cuban leader led a sea of Cubans past the U.S. diplomatic mission here on the oceanfront Malecon Boulevard in a demonstration organized by the communist government against new U.S. measures aimed at squeezing the island’s economy and pushing out Castro.

The crowd chanted “Free Cuba! Fascist Bush!”

Are you sure they weren’t using a noun of direct address in their chants? “Free Cuba, fascist Bush!”

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Major Media as Reality Television

Let me see if I get the attribution straight: An Instapundit post refers to something on Roger Simon’s blog which resulted, ultimately, in an essay on The American Thinker.

Read that essay.

The lead:

How do we account for the continued strength of President Bush in the polls, relative to his presumptive Democratic opponent, despite the stream of bad news from Iraq? Much of the journalistic and intellectual establishment is plainly baffled …and dismayed. The answer is not that complex: the public, unlike the class which defines itself as living the life of the mind, understands that we are at war, a war in which our very survival is at stake. This is a gut-level cognition.

Those who pride themselves on their ability to spin chains of logical reasoning, and sometimes arrive at a counter-intuitive conclusion, instinctively recoil from the obvious lesson, especially when it validates the positions of their political opponents. For them, the battle against the hated Bush is more important than the battle against Islamicist terror. Theories which blame the West as the source of all evil take precedence over actual evil, stariung them in the face.

My tangental epiphany:

Major news media are the same as reality television.

Face it, they’re not just people who point cameras and shoot stuff. They’re content providers who need to sell a story. They don’t just dish out facts and events. They start with a story, and then they cut the video and stage it as needed to have a narrative arc, complete with villains who are just people trying to do the best they can, but whose actions the “narrators” cast in unflattering lights and out of context–but within the narrative arc.

Major news media are nothing but entertainment, folks, and the pictures they paint and the artistry they employ might be actually, you know, entertaining or compelling. If they weren’t talking about something vitally important, and if they weren’t trying to base it as a true story. Perhaps “Inspired by Actual Events” would better describe it.

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“So-Called” Watch

This damn cheap verbal construction sticks in my craw and wiggles and twists. I don’t care to hear this abomination spoken (and I have one friend who applies it to his conversations like barbecue sauce on over-cooked hamburgers), and I find it disreputable when professional writers use it in things for which they were paid.

Current offenders:

  • Richard Roeper, Chicago Sun-Times:

    Conservative commentators who seized on this tragedy to complain that the so-called liberal media was more interested in abused Iraqi prisoners than a murdered American civilian are either lying or stupid.

  • Sara Shipley, St. Louis Post-Dispatch:

    The Howard Bend Levee District is nearly finished with a $25 million upgrade designed to protect against a so-called 500-year flood, or one that has a 1 in 500 chance of happening in any given year.

Face it, “so-called” is the “alleged” without the elegance and without, you know, actual allegations. So-called is the drop-in equivalent of an “authorities say” asterisk in a headline, a written sneer that would be denied if someone questioned a speaker who added the equivalent tone of voice. It’s making air-quotes with the English language, and it deserves all the mockery we can summon.

I’m almost tempted to start a “So-Called Watch” blog, but given the underwhelming popularity of Pop-Up Mocker, I think not.

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Richard Roeper Scores a Twofer

In his column today, Roeper of the Chicago Sun-Times endears himself to the other half:

    You go first.
    In a recent column you brought out the big guns, God and the Vatican,
    to condemn Rush Limbaugh for his support of the troops in the so-called
    Iraqi prisoner abuse. Who you gonna call on now to comment on the
    televised beheading of an American civilian — the liberal high
    authority Michael “Freaky” Moore? Let’s just see if this cold-blooded
    murder gets as much air time from the media as the naked butts of Iraqi
    prisoners.

    Alberta Dabrowsky, Lake Zurich

    The entire world
    should be condemning that horrific, cowardly murder. As for press
    coverage: the beheading of the American civilian is a huge story and
    was treated as such. Conservative commentators who seized on this
    tragedy to complain that the so-called liberal media was more
    interested in abused Iraqi prisoners than a murdered American civilian
    are either lying or stupid.

My response, of course, is that I read his column online every day Monday through Thursday, so I guess it’s obvious which of the two I am.

Mr. Roeper can be reached for comment at rroeper@suntimes.com.

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Why Do They Hate Us?

At OpinionJournal.com, Peggy Noonan examines the terrorist threat to Newark. Her analysis:

  • Because the Port of Newark is an easy target:

    He [Tony Soprano] comes across a documentary about the potential use by terrorists of the nearby Port of Newark. The Port of Newark, the biggest port on the eastern seaboard, receives millions of ship containers each year; the feds say they can check only 2%; terrorists could easily smuggle in a dirty nuke.

    Tony becomes alarmed. He knows Port Newark. The mob is there, his people are there. It is corrupt, lazy, badly run. Suddenly he realizes there’s nothing between his home and kaboom but a chain-link fence and a mall.

  • Because the Port of Newark is an attractive target:

    Port Newark is just beyond the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor. A hit on Newark would cause panic in al Qaeda’s great target, New York–stock market crash, terror in the streets. A hit on Port Newark would deal a blow rich in practical and symbolic terms.

  • Because New Jersey is becoming the center, in America, of the movement for cloning:

    But there’s more and for me it’s more central, and the reason my pings began. New Jersey is becoming the center, in America, of the movement for cloning. Its governor just signed the most liberal cloning bill in the United States. There is money in cloning research, and status: We’re the coming intellectual center of science! We’re not just the Meadowlands and the mob, we’re Princeton and Einstein! There is greater suburban affluence to be gained, and higher tax revenues for politicians to spend on community centers built through no-bid contracts by big contributors. The Robert Torricelli Psychotherapy Institute for the Differently Abled. The Jim McGreevey Carpal Tunnel Trauma Research Facility.

Cripes, spare me further “Why do they hate us?” projection of whatever bugaboos the commentator has about America in the discussion of terrorism. Who cares? Don’t solve the projected problem, eliminate those who would blow up Newark for whatever reason.

And prevent Peggy Noonan from being cloned, ever. For her sake, and for the sake of generations of future Americans who read conservative commentators.

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Steve Chapman Speaks Word to Power

Steve Chapman, in today’s Chicago Tribune says (registration required):

Some newcomers are planning to move to Chicago, and the invasion sounds as though it will be a grim affair. “They’re a negative for the city,” said one fearful alderman. They’re guilty of “treating people wrong,” said an angry minister. They exploit a “slave mentality,” charged another clergyman.

You’d think Genghis Khan was riding in our direction, with his marauding hordes in tow. In fact, the would-be migrants are from Wal-Mart, whose chief crime is to become one of the most successful companies in American history. All the giant retailer is threatening to bring is a few hundred jobs and a lot of inexpensive products. But critics want the City Council to block the project.

Bobo opponents want to block it because it’s Wal-Mart. But it’s a good company, an employer, and a seller of things people want to buy. Get off the anti-capitalist chic and let it in.

Just don’t let the local government throw people out of their homes or provide tax breaks.

(Originally seen on Daniel Drezner because I must be slow today getting to my Chicagoland papers.)

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The Worst Part About 13 Going on 30

The worst part of the movie 13 Going on 30, which I only attended because I love my beautiful wife very much and she’s a great Jennifer Garner fan, is that they got 1987 so very wrong.

For those of you who don’t know, which I pray is most of you, the main character is 13 in 1987 who wishes she were 30. The plot is bang! She is 30, and it’s 2004, and she doesn’t remember anything between now and then. Now that we have that pesky plot out of the way, I can lay into what was really wrong.

Take, for example, the three musical touchstones from the 1980s that reappear throughout the movie:

  • “Love is a Battlefield” by Pat Benatar. The 13 year old in 1987 knows this song by heart. This song was released in 1983 on Live From Earth. It was a very big deal back then, but by 1987, it wasn’t popular.
  • “Thriller” by Michael Jackson. Again, since this album was released in 1982, when the main character would have been 8 years old. By 1987, Bad had been released, redefining Michael Jackson as “tougher” or something. Regardless, the youth of 1987 thought Michael Jackson was gay, werd, and no one would have thought to imitate the dance from the video, which was not getting that much airplay on MTV in 1987.
  • Worst of all, the main character has a crush on Rick Springfield, and she apparently kisses her middle school love interest to the song “Jessie’s Girl”, which came from 1981’s Working Class Dog and didn’t get airplay that a person born in 1974 would have remembered until the 1980s stations started cropping up around the turn of the century.

Those are just the musical misfires in the movie. In 1987, at her thirteenth birthday party, her best friend builds her a dollhouse which contains a stereo and all the record albums she could ever want. Jeez, Louise, record albums? As a dream of a middle schooler in 1987? Audio cassettes had supplanted records by then. Memo to other inept writers: Betamax was gone by then, but laser discs were still struggling along.

Please, spare me the constant Rick Springfield crush notes. In 1987, a girl would more likely have a crush on Jon Bon Jovi or George Michael or Prince.

Even the subtleties of this faux 1987 grate. The love interest shows up in a Trans Am, with long hair over his ears. Teased long hair, okay; mullet, possible. Short, gelled spikes? That was cool in 1987. But the heartthrob wears hair about five years out of style.

I wouldn’t be so agitated by it if they had not specifically set it, within the first minutes of the movie, in 1987. Sure, as we get older, time periods expand so that what’s hip in a particular year is not as important as whether we like the artist or not. Quick, Matchbox 20 had their first hit….Oh, sometime in the mid-to-late 1990s, wot? But when you’re 13 (or 15, as I was in 1987), each individual year and the particulars of fashion are very important, and their impressed into our psyches.

Which is why the authenticity of this movie really did not impress me. It’s obvious that some older writers reached into the grab-bag of the i980s and came out with a couple handfuls of things they might have remembered. Hey, it’s all good retro stuff, huh? Unfortunately, they risked offending, yes, offending a major set of Generation X who lived those years at that age. Or maybe just me.

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Brian and the Argotnots

Today, friends and readers, I coin for your amusement a term in the testers’ cant, a secret language spoken to confound developers. Just as developers confound us with talk of materialized views, mainClasses, and environmental PATH variables (all of which we testers know to be fictional), we testers have devised our own secret language with words and terms we can use to explain problems and then, with exaggerated patience and a healthy eye-rolling, define those terms for the silly developers who really don’t know anything about testing.

Today’s term: a zool.

Zool: a row in a database, added via an INSERT command, or rendered in the presentation layer (client application or Web interface) that is expected to contain information, but because of defective behavior of the software does not.

Used in context: "There is no data, only zool."

Try to use it in a sentence today. Extra credit goes to those who use it but don’t actually work in IT.

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Book Review: Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck (1935)

As some of you know, I’ve been reading Steinbeck on and off for the last couple of years (Of Mice and Men review); what I said then holds true. Steinbeck’s as accessible and as easy to read as Hemingway, which means I’ve read a bunch of him, and the Faulkner I was supposed to read in college remains on my to-read shelves.

This book deals with a group of Mexican-Americans who live in Tortilla Flat, a small, er, suburb of Monterey populated by Mexican Americans. It’s set immediately after the first world war. The main characters are layabouts. It’s not so much a novel as a collection of anecdotes or loosely-related stories, a la Winesburg, Ohio. Actually, considering that the pastime of the main characters is stealing or trading for gallons of wine, perhaps this book should be called Winesburg, California. But it’s not.

To keep with the spirit of the book, I drank much red wine while reading it. The level in my bottle went down, down, and perhaps I enjoyed the book more for it. Still, I couldn’t apply too many lessons of the book to my life, since none of my neighbors have chickens I can steal, and because I like to think my life has more meaning than acquiring money for wine. I’m a Guinness man, don’t you know?

Still, the ultimate point of this book might be that there’s more to life than laying about and drinking. However, the thin characterization and even the thin narration don’t really compel the reader to make those conclusions. It’s sort of like an epidode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. We were lazing about, stealing for wine, and an incident occurred.

Unlike Star Trek: The Next Generation, though, you can sound a bit snooty when you say, “This reminds me of Steinbeck’s Tortilla Flat….” So if you like quick reads in Great American Literature, pick it up. Especially if you can score it as part of a Steinbeck set at $1 each like I did. Werd.

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Book Review: The Far Side Gallery by Gary Larsen (1984)

This book is 20 years old. You like the Far Side? That’s yesterday’s newspaper. The Far Side has been out of business for so long, most young people today–indeed, most in that coveted 18-34 demographic–won’t remember it. Sort of like if you talk about Opus, or Bloom County, or Calvin and Hobbes in five years, or Dilbert in ten or fifteen (although perhaps Dilbert, like Hagar the Horrible, will remain in the funny pages longer than in the culture).

So I’m ashamed that this book is now one of those cultural artifacts I’m fond of reading–especially since I remember it in its pre-artifact days. The wry, outlandish humor remains, but I wonder how much of it would fly in today’s world. Particularly the gags with the mushroom clouds. Of course, in the early eighties, we had a Republican president that contemporary conventional wisdom thought was bringing humanity to the brink of its extinction. Looking back, the sepia-toned memories are less frightening since the bigger story turned out well. But I digress. Mushroom clouds? Not so funny. Office politics and corporate shenanigans? Funny and relevant, for a couple years yet.

Still, the book’s amusing enough in itself. One typically encounters Far Side cartoons individually, tacked on cubicle walls from Far Side calendars (or at least that’s how I encounter them on my beautiful wife‘s cubicle wall). En masse, such as a great book like this, one encounters a greater number of cartoons of varied punchlines, which means the end result is average–wherein the cubicle wall is very selective, choosing one or two cartoons from a year’s worth of cartoons reprinted from several years’ worth of cartoons.

Perhaps I just read this book too quickly (a single night). But I didn’t spend too much on it (4 books for 4 bucks plus shipping and handling from Quality Paperback Club), so I’m pleased with it. If you’re a Far Side fan, it’s worth it. If you’re not, it’s like a collection of Andy Capp’s greatest hits. Well, no, probably a bit better than that since most of us can identify with cattle on the moon better than English ruggers, but you get my point.

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Escalating the Level of Discourse to Violence

Check out John Kerry’s bravado here:

Democratic presidential candidate John Kerry warned his political opponents on Monday against attacking his outspoken wife, Teresa Heinz Kerry, saying, “They’re going to have to go through me.”

That’s a pretty metaphor, Massachusetts. But we here in the midwest respect our elders just enough to not beat them to a pulp when they start talking smack.

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Who Are They Kidding?

Important insight from WebMD Health News:

Commercials featuring topless models with buff bodies and unattainable physiques may make the viewers feel depressed and unhappy with their bodies.

Sound familiar? It is, but this time it’s the men’s turn to feel insecure.

Actually, it doesn’t sound familiar at all, but then again I have what they call “self-esteem” mostly because I have an accurate depiction of why my body is the way it is, and I’m content with it. Sure, I’d like a little flatter stomach, but that would require more time on the gerbil machines and fewer Guinnesses.

So pardon me when I am skeptical when a woman psychologist from Central Florida University intones, seriously:

“The level of muscularity and attractiveness that are idealized in the media often are not attainable for the average man,” says researcher Stacey Tantleff-Dunn, professor of psychology at the University of Central Florida. “Men see more of a discrepancy between how they want to look, or think they need to look, and the image they see in the mirror. Such discrepancies can cause the dissatisfaction and low self-esteem that lead to extreme and often unhealthy actions, such as eating disorders, exercising too much, and steroid abuse.”

You know what I think when I see an idealized level of muscularity and attractiveness in the media? I think, “Hey, I’m in the media!” or “Hey, man, I wish I had time to spend four hours a day in a gym; of course, I would spend it drinking Guinness and reading or napping in a recliner, but the time would be nice.”

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Iraqi Prisoner Abuse

I have not posted on this topic much, gentle readers, because the zone has been quite flooded with floor-to-ceiling coverage of the topic. It’s a bad thing, but not as bad a thing as it’s been made out. The coverage certainly outweighs the offense.

I don’t have anything to add. Read what this guy says about it. He covers it.

(Link seen on Instapundit.)

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