I was thinking about this when I was looking up how The Dark Knight is doing at the box office instead of working: It really annoys me when people talk about how much money a movie has made, without adjusting for inflation. So that it looks like Titanic is the most successful movie ever, which it's not.
So go here.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Things That Are Interesting Today
At Coffee and Conservation:
Rufous Woodpeckers are making a happy habitat of shade-grown coffee plantations in India. Hooray! Says Dr. Scientist, "It is high time that the conservation value of shaded coffee plantation, as a critical habitat for Rufous Woodpecker and other forest birds, be recognised and proper agro-ecological management practices developed and popularised amongst planters."
p.s. Maureen we should buy organic coffee for the office I don't care what you say.
***
At Global Research.ca, by way of Information Clearing House:
An article tinged with tinfoil-hat paranoia (and sloppy editing) nevertheless is a font of interesting and possibly correct datapoints, including:
Over at my friend Jim's workplace, someone points out that McCain's ultra-cynical VP pick (See! She has a vagina like that Democrat woman! And she's young and cute and inexperienced like that black guy!) has fewer constituents than Allegheny County Chief Executive Dan Onorato.
***
On a more serious note, it sounds like this Palin woman sucks in pretty much every way except that she taxed oil companies, so that part's good. Other than that though, yeah, she sucks.
***
And on an even more serious note, today's XKCD is about Han Solo! Oh, Han Solo: One day I'll be as cool as you.
***
Oh, and last thing:
One day, it's going to be sixty years from now and George Lucas will be, mercifully, dead. And all of his lackies and retards that tell him stuff like "Ewoks are a good idea" and "You're right we really should have a Carribean frog-man with Down Syndrome as a major character" and "Hey yeah, if we make the Jew a giant fly-man with a big nose and a Jew-hat no one will know he's a Jew" will be dead too.
And on that day someone who is smart will re-imagine the whole Star Wars saga in the same way they done for Battlestar Galactica. All the attempts at cuteness will be done away with; so too all the idiotic dialog, all the wooden "acting" and senseless plots. The Ewoks, if they appear at all, will be a disturbing race of stunted tree-men, allies of necessity with their own terrible agendas and secrets. Jar Jar will turn up for four seconds and then he will be shot. Annakin's descent into evil will make sense of any kind. And I will be, um, 85, and I will go and see all 6 new movies and cry myself to sleep with joy.
Rufous Woodpeckers are making a happy habitat of shade-grown coffee plantations in India. Hooray! Says Dr. Scientist, "It is high time that the conservation value of shaded coffee plantation, as a critical habitat for Rufous Woodpecker and other forest birds, be recognised and proper agro-ecological management practices developed and popularised amongst planters."
p.s. Maureen we should buy organic coffee for the office I don't care what you say.
***
At Global Research.ca, by way of Information Clearing House:
An article tinged with tinfoil-hat paranoia (and sloppy editing) nevertheless is a font of interesting and possibly correct datapoints, including:
Shortly before World War II, Hjalmer Schacht, a German banker, toured the United States soliciting American corporate support for Hitler’s new fascist state. U.S. corporations not only agreed to support Germany against the socialist economic system of the Soviet Union, but also declared their opposition to the strong labor movement arising in the United States and Europe.***
Among the eminent business leaders backing these multinational corporations were the Rockefellers and Prescott Bush, father of George Bush and grandfather of George W. Bush. Prescott Bush worked with his father-in-law, George Herbert Walker, in the family firm Union Banking Corporation to raise $50 million for the Nazi government by selling German bonds to American investors from 1924 to 1930.
Over at my friend Jim's workplace, someone points out that McCain's ultra-cynical VP pick (See! She has a vagina like that Democrat woman! And she's young and cute and inexperienced like that black guy!) has fewer constituents than Allegheny County Chief Executive Dan Onorato.
***
On a more serious note, it sounds like this Palin woman sucks in pretty much every way except that she taxed oil companies, so that part's good. Other than that though, yeah, she sucks.
***
And on an even more serious note, today's XKCD is about Han Solo! Oh, Han Solo: One day I'll be as cool as you.
***
Oh, and last thing:
One day, it's going to be sixty years from now and George Lucas will be, mercifully, dead. And all of his lackies and retards that tell him stuff like "Ewoks are a good idea" and "You're right we really should have a Carribean frog-man with Down Syndrome as a major character" and "Hey yeah, if we make the Jew a giant fly-man with a big nose and a Jew-hat no one will know he's a Jew" will be dead too.
And on that day someone who is smart will re-imagine the whole Star Wars saga in the same way they done for Battlestar Galactica. All the attempts at cuteness will be done away with; so too all the idiotic dialog, all the wooden "acting" and senseless plots. The Ewoks, if they appear at all, will be a disturbing race of stunted tree-men, allies of necessity with their own terrible agendas and secrets. Jar Jar will turn up for four seconds and then he will be shot. Annakin's descent into evil will make sense of any kind. And I will be, um, 85, and I will go and see all 6 new movies and cry myself to sleep with joy.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
A Letter to US Bank
Dear US Bank,
Please go fuck yourselves.
Sincerely,
Steve
p.s. CEO Richard K. Davis, obviously a sonofabitch, can (probably) be reached at:
US Bancorp, The Office of the Corp. Secretary
Richard K. David, Chairman, President & CEO
800 Nicollet Mall
Minneapolis, MN. 55402
...Or try their corporate headquarters, at:
60 Livingston Ave
St. Paul, MN 55107
p.p.s. I think they've probably charged me, I don't know, $200 in overdraft fees by now, while initially telling me I could not have overdraft protection. (Haha stupid, say people who think banks are protagonists and people who don't know about money are wrong.)
The fun part about this:
I had them link up my checking and savings accounts to create overdraft protection the other day. This, they said, could have been done all along. They neglected to tell me that it would be a $10 fee. Despite the fact that the overdraft was actually an accident (I clicked the button to pay twice on my cell phone companies website) and hadn't actually gone through before the recipient agreed to refund it.
That's aggravating. What's more aggravating is this.
Writing this, I feel like an old man complaining about not understanding how to use a mouse or a keyboard. I don't care: the money/credit system in this country thrives on consumer ignorance, on the ignorance of people like me.
The point is, I didn't know, because it was never, by anybody, explained to me, that the bank doesn't have to allow a purchase that overdraws your account. That instead it does this on purpose, (as a hahahahaha "courtesy"), solely so that it can fleece more money (through fees on these "courtesy overdrafts") from people (like me!) who already don't know how to manage their money anyway.
Hence, ultimately, the cycle of debt and poverty that keeps this GDP up and running.
p.p.p.s. Let's look at the way we talk about things like this for a moment. The first comment on the website I linked to:
This is a testament to the effectiveness of the propaganda system -- the thousands of messages a day about "liberty" and "individualism" and "personal responsibility" -- that a decision made by a powerful institution is in fact understood as a decision on the part of the person harmed by that institution.
Another point: One of the major tools of coercion, power, control is to give the victim of power a false sense of choice. So in this case: The retarded commenter thinks that being given a choice of a $2 fee (with an accompanying credit card that carries its own risks) instead of a $34 fee -- both fees, again, added because of a decision on the part of the bank, a decision that is, therefore, the responsibility of the bank, is somehow a good thing -- a generosity even!
p.p.p.p.s. This shifting of responsibility from the victimizer to the victim is really, I think, one of the fundamental bases of our whole society. Another example: A person arrested for possession of crack-cocaine is told "You shouldn't have done it if you weren't prepared to deal with the consequences." Of course, the consequences of smoking crack are pretty fucking severe: Let's start with desperate poverty and move on to psychological dissolution.
But: Being "arrested" (kidnapped) by "police," (armed men wearing gang colors) is not a consequence of smoking crack.
It's a consequence, rather, of a decision on the part of 1. the police officers in question 2. the police department heads or local politicians who assign patrols and so forth 3. the politicians who passed the law criminalizing cocaine. The cop decided to arrest the crackhead. The politician decided that casting himself as "tough on crime," an abstract nonsense-phrase which in reality means passing more laws which actually destroy the actual lives of actual people, was worth it to remain in power another 2, 4, or 6 years. But in no case are these people held accountable, or even described as being responsible. Ever.
The decisions and mistakes of common people are their responsibility.
The decisions of people in power are no one's responsibility: They are consequences of the actions of powerless people; they are acts of nature.
Please go fuck yourselves.
Sincerely,
Steve
p.s. CEO Richard K. Davis, obviously a sonofabitch, can (probably) be reached at:
US Bancorp, The Office of the Corp. Secretary
Richard K. David, Chairman, President & CEO
800 Nicollet Mall
Minneapolis, MN. 55402
...Or try their corporate headquarters, at:
60 Livingston Ave
St. Paul, MN 55107
p.p.s. I think they've probably charged me, I don't know, $200 in overdraft fees by now, while initially telling me I could not have overdraft protection. (Haha stupid, say people who think banks are protagonists and people who don't know about money are wrong.)
The fun part about this:
I had them link up my checking and savings accounts to create overdraft protection the other day. This, they said, could have been done all along. They neglected to tell me that it would be a $10 fee. Despite the fact that the overdraft was actually an accident (I clicked the button to pay twice on my cell phone companies website) and hadn't actually gone through before the recipient agreed to refund it.
That's aggravating. What's more aggravating is this.
Writing this, I feel like an old man complaining about not understanding how to use a mouse or a keyboard. I don't care: the money/credit system in this country thrives on consumer ignorance, on the ignorance of people like me.
The point is, I didn't know, because it was never, by anybody, explained to me, that the bank doesn't have to allow a purchase that overdraws your account. That instead it does this on purpose, (as a hahahahaha "courtesy"), solely so that it can fleece more money (through fees on these "courtesy overdrafts") from people (like me!) who already don't know how to manage their money anyway.
Hence, ultimately, the cycle of debt and poverty that keeps this GDP up and running.
p.p.p.s. Let's look at the way we talk about things like this for a moment. The first comment on the website I linked to:
This (retarded) person completely misses the points that: 1. It's the bank's decision to let you overdraft your account, 2. After making this decision, they then charge you (the customer) (whose mistake the bank's decision somehow is) a fee -- for their decision.Wait a second...complicated and uneccessary? Depends on the person. I would certainly like to have that backup credit line, at $2 per my mistake, then $25-$34 fee. And let's not forget, overdrafting your bank account is customer mistake 99% of the time.
Easy, money-saving solution? Don't overdraft your account!
This is a testament to the effectiveness of the propaganda system -- the thousands of messages a day about "liberty" and "individualism" and "personal responsibility" -- that a decision made by a powerful institution is in fact understood as a decision on the part of the person harmed by that institution.
Another point: One of the major tools of coercion, power, control is to give the victim of power a false sense of choice. So in this case: The retarded commenter thinks that being given a choice of a $2 fee (with an accompanying credit card that carries its own risks) instead of a $34 fee -- both fees, again, added because of a decision on the part of the bank, a decision that is, therefore, the responsibility of the bank, is somehow a good thing -- a generosity even!
p.p.p.p.s. This shifting of responsibility from the victimizer to the victim is really, I think, one of the fundamental bases of our whole society. Another example: A person arrested for possession of crack-cocaine is told "You shouldn't have done it if you weren't prepared to deal with the consequences." Of course, the consequences of smoking crack are pretty fucking severe: Let's start with desperate poverty and move on to psychological dissolution.
But: Being "arrested" (kidnapped) by "police," (armed men wearing gang colors) is not a consequence of smoking crack.
It's a consequence, rather, of a decision on the part of 1. the police officers in question 2. the police department heads or local politicians who assign patrols and so forth 3. the politicians who passed the law criminalizing cocaine. The cop decided to arrest the crackhead. The politician decided that casting himself as "tough on crime," an abstract nonsense-phrase which in reality means passing more laws which actually destroy the actual lives of actual people, was worth it to remain in power another 2, 4, or 6 years. But in no case are these people held accountable, or even described as being responsible. Ever.
The decisions and mistakes of common people are their responsibility.
The decisions of people in power are no one's responsibility: They are consequences of the actions of powerless people; they are acts of nature.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
In Dreams
I dreamed the other night that I was the neglectful father of a little girl. And one day she came to the apartment to ask me why I hadn't done this and that for her and for her mother.
And so I wrote her a book of elaborate, magical excuses, called "What Daddy Will Do When He Comes Home."
I would have fixed that fence -- the book read -- but on that corner of the house is a magical swamp just teeming with dragons! And so I went down with my hammer and my nails, all ready to mend that fence for you and your mom, when out of nowhere a dragon attacked! And for three days I was lost in that swamp, battling rats and carnivorous frogs and mosquitoes the size of a man with nothing but my hammer and my nails, until finally I came upon the cottage of an old witch.
And I said, Witch! Let me out of this swamp, so I can mend the fence for my poor wife and daughter!
And the Witch said, I shall release you. But there is a price. Behind the house my fence has begun to fall apart. If you fix it, you may leave this terrible swamp.
But Witch! I cried, I have only enough nails left to fix the fence for my wife and daughter!
Well, cackled the Witch, If you do not mend this fence, you will be trapped in the swamp forever. And there is more: Within my fence are contained all the dragons of the swamp. If you do not mend it, they will surely escape -- and your wife and daughter will be destroyed by their terrible dragon rage!
So I did it. I took my hammer and the very last of my nails, and I mended that Witch's fence -- because I couldn't stand the thought of you and your mother devoured by dragons or burned to cinders by their terrible fire. And the Witch kept her promise, and showed me the way out of the swamp.
It may be a week or two, or maybe a month, before I can get some more nails and get down there and put that fence back together, little one. But you and your mother are safe. And that's all that really matters.
In my dream this became a national bestseller. I remember that on Oprah they were talking about how "It's funny because it's real." I wonder if it would work out in waking life?
And so I wrote her a book of elaborate, magical excuses, called "What Daddy Will Do When He Comes Home."
I would have fixed that fence -- the book read -- but on that corner of the house is a magical swamp just teeming with dragons! And so I went down with my hammer and my nails, all ready to mend that fence for you and your mom, when out of nowhere a dragon attacked! And for three days I was lost in that swamp, battling rats and carnivorous frogs and mosquitoes the size of a man with nothing but my hammer and my nails, until finally I came upon the cottage of an old witch.
And I said, Witch! Let me out of this swamp, so I can mend the fence for my poor wife and daughter!
And the Witch said, I shall release you. But there is a price. Behind the house my fence has begun to fall apart. If you fix it, you may leave this terrible swamp.
But Witch! I cried, I have only enough nails left to fix the fence for my wife and daughter!
Well, cackled the Witch, If you do not mend this fence, you will be trapped in the swamp forever. And there is more: Within my fence are contained all the dragons of the swamp. If you do not mend it, they will surely escape -- and your wife and daughter will be destroyed by their terrible dragon rage!
So I did it. I took my hammer and the very last of my nails, and I mended that Witch's fence -- because I couldn't stand the thought of you and your mother devoured by dragons or burned to cinders by their terrible fire. And the Witch kept her promise, and showed me the way out of the swamp.
It may be a week or two, or maybe a month, before I can get some more nails and get down there and put that fence back together, little one. But you and your mother are safe. And that's all that really matters.
In my dream this became a national bestseller. I remember that on Oprah they were talking about how "It's funny because it's real." I wonder if it would work out in waking life?
Monday, August 25, 2008
Staying Sick
Six years ago I wrote an article about how so help me I wasn't ever going to smoke a cigarette again so long as I live. My reasoning went something like this:
My body is a functioning ecosystem.
Cigarette smoking is pollution.
Smoking a cigarette is therefore like causing an oil spill on the shores of your lungs (and how sad, I thought, would the poor vacationing family of microbes be, arriving on the bronchial beach and finding it covered in tar.)
I think that lasted for about two months.
***
Do you want to know how it happens? Here is my brain:
"Man, I don't really want a cigarette. It kind of hurts my lungs and it would be nice to be able to run more than I can -- Hey, wait a sec! --
...Holy Freaking Crap! It's the ghosts of Jack Kerouac, Joe Strummer, and Fidel Castro, and they're ALL SMOKING!!"
"Steeephennnn!" said they in their ghostly smoky voices, "If you smoke you will be as cool as we aaaaare!"
Then they vanished and I was like, Shit, I want to be as cool as Jack Kerouac Joe Strummer and Fidel Castro! So I bought another pack of Pall Malls.
***
(I know what you're thinking. Fidel isn't even DEAD yet and still his cigar-smoking ghost travels back in time to haunt me. It's crazy.)
***
So it's 6 days later now, since this hacking coughing fit began. I'm feeling a bit better. Here is the question: Will I immediately re-start chain-smoking as soon as my lungs seem capable of handling it? Or will I grow smart for once for at least a little while?
***
We shall see.
My body is a functioning ecosystem.
Cigarette smoking is pollution.
Smoking a cigarette is therefore like causing an oil spill on the shores of your lungs (and how sad, I thought, would the poor vacationing family of microbes be, arriving on the bronchial beach and finding it covered in tar.)
I think that lasted for about two months.
***
Do you want to know how it happens? Here is my brain:
"Man, I don't really want a cigarette. It kind of hurts my lungs and it would be nice to be able to run more than I can -- Hey, wait a sec! --
...Holy Freaking Crap! It's the ghosts of Jack Kerouac, Joe Strummer, and Fidel Castro, and they're ALL SMOKING!!"
"Steeephennnn!" said they in their ghostly smoky voices, "If you smoke you will be as cool as we aaaaare!"
Then they vanished and I was like, Shit, I want to be as cool as Jack Kerouac Joe Strummer and Fidel Castro! So I bought another pack of Pall Malls.
***
(I know what you're thinking. Fidel isn't even DEAD yet and still his cigar-smoking ghost travels back in time to haunt me. It's crazy.)
***
So it's 6 days later now, since this hacking coughing fit began. I'm feeling a bit better. Here is the question: Will I immediately re-start chain-smoking as soon as my lungs seem capable of handling it? Or will I grow smart for once for at least a little while?
***
We shall see.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Sick Daze
I stayed home sick today!
I don't know what much to say about this except that, Man, being sick kind of sucks, but, You know what's nice? Staying home sick.
I have to tell you. I haven't done this in years. My usual method of dealing with illness involves attempting to cure every ailment with beer and cigarettes. This has worked exactly once. The last two times I tried it I think I gave myself pneumonia. So this time I got myself a bunch of Bolthouse drinks and prepared a stack of comfort-food-books including:
I'd like to dwell on these books a minute. The Moorcock is one of his Elric books. Elric is an angsty anti-hero who goes around a Conan the Barbarian-style world with an evil sword doing malicious things and brooding.
Michael Moorcock: Sometimes his work is of the highest quality -- Behold the Man, for example. Elric not so much. And yet. And yet. Reading it I'm delighted and filled with the desire -- as when I read classic pulp stuff by Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard -- to write that kind of stuff, all pulpy and campy and cliched and over-the-top and amazing.
I mean, listen to some of this:
Let's talk about my other Sick Day Books.
The Borges: I bought this yesterday. I can't find it. Did I leave it in the office?
The Joyce: The other day M. was reading Dubliners, and I picked it up (having hated A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man when I read it as a younger man) and enjoyed the first story I read. So this collected works was a buck at While Away. Score!
Gene Wolfe: Ohhhh but his greatness will be the subject of a later post!
Anyway my darlings, I'm sick so I shouldn't be committing so much energy to blogging. I should be resting! Good NIGHT!
I don't know what much to say about this except that, Man, being sick kind of sucks, but, You know what's nice? Staying home sick.
I have to tell you. I haven't done this in years. My usual method of dealing with illness involves attempting to cure every ailment with beer and cigarettes. This has worked exactly once. The last two times I tried it I think I gave myself pneumonia. So this time I got myself a bunch of Bolthouse drinks and prepared a stack of comfort-food-books including:
- The Bane of the Black Sword by Michael Moorcock
- Litany of the Long Sun by Gene Wolfe
- Dreamtigers by Jorge Luis Borges
- A Big Collection of James Joyce
I'd like to dwell on these books a minute. The Moorcock is one of his Elric books. Elric is an angsty anti-hero who goes around a Conan the Barbarian-style world with an evil sword doing malicious things and brooding.
Michael Moorcock: Sometimes his work is of the highest quality -- Behold the Man, for example. Elric not so much. And yet. And yet. Reading it I'm delighted and filled with the desire -- as when I read classic pulp stuff by Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard -- to write that kind of stuff, all pulpy and campy and cliched and over-the-top and amazing.
I mean, listen to some of this:
In a city called Bakshaan, which was rich enough to make all other cities of the north East seem poor, in a tall-towered tavern one night, Elric, Lord of the smoking ruins of Melnibone, smiled like a shark and dryly jested with four powerful merchant princes whom, in a day or so, he intended to pauperize.So our story begins. And we continue, learning about Elric's awesome sword Stormbringer:
A symbiosis existed between man and sword. The man without the sword could become a cripple, lacking sight and energy--the sword without the man could not drink the blood and the souls it needed for its existence. They rode together, and none could tell which was master.!!!! How can you not love it!!?? especially when THIS happens:
In a smoking pit, somewhere beyond the limitations of space and time, a creature stirred. all around it, shadows moved. They were the shadows of the souls of men and these shadows which moved through the bright darkness were the masters of the creature. It allowed them to master it--so long as they paid its price. In the speech of men, this creature had a name. It was called Quaolnargn...Ka-fucking-blang!!!!! This is so cool I nearly shit my pants. But that's the end of our free preview. If you want to know more you'll have to buy the book yourself you lazy son of a bitch.
Let's talk about my other Sick Day Books.
The Borges: I bought this yesterday. I can't find it. Did I leave it in the office?
The Joyce: The other day M. was reading Dubliners, and I picked it up (having hated A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man when I read it as a younger man) and enjoyed the first story I read. So this collected works was a buck at While Away. Score!
Gene Wolfe: Ohhhh but his greatness will be the subject of a later post!
Anyway my darlings, I'm sick so I shouldn't be committing so much energy to blogging. I should be resting! Good NIGHT!
A Picture
A couple of weeks ago we went to Crater Lake. I like this picture of the event:
Yay team!!!
Yay team!!!
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