University of Minnesota strong-arm tactics

If you're anywhere around the Twin Cities, you know that AFSCME workers at the U voted overwhelmingly to approve a strike (72% in favor). However, the University is hell-bent on doing nothing about it, and has refused to offer anything more than the offer that caused the strike vote in the first place. But as always, those greedy union fat cats are intent on ensuring a decent living standard, like the selfish bastards they are.

With the strike poised to happen next wednesday, the second day of classes, the strike support committee is busy scurrying around finding space for faculty and TAs who want to hold their classes off-campus and not cross the picket line, which is our right by law to do so.

But just today, all faculty, teaching assistants, and teaching staff received notice from wealthy academic higher-up E. Thomas Sullivan that if we hold classes off-campus, we are actually a sympathy strike (which is untrue; if we were striking, we would not be teaching) and therefore illegal actors and subject to discipline.

Now, don't get me started on the ridiculous nature of even having a notion of legal and illegal strikes. But even if you accept that idiotic legal framework, we're well inside our legal rights to refuse to cross a picket line. This is just pure intimidation, through and through. The university knows that in the cut-throat world of academic appointments and funding that it's very easy to scare grad students and younger faculty into line, and they're using our own personal interests as a way to break the power of the striking clerical workers.

Well, fuck you E. Thomas Sullivan (sulli059@umn.edu or 612-625-0051 if you want to give him a piece of your mind). We're doing it anyway, because even if it isn't legal, it's still much more important.

If you are an instructor, TA, or any teaching faculty, please contact Kris Houlton with AFSCME at 612-616-2537 to find an off-campus site for holding classes.

Si, Se Peude! Ha Wakarna! Yes, We Can!

Where conservatives and commies collide...

Normally, I don't agree with anything written on the National Review website (yet I'm strangely fascinated by what they have to say...it's like looking at a car accident), but I've finally found something I agree with them on. Here is a map of those receiving farm subsidies. In Manhattan:



The bigger red dots are those getting over a quarter million in subsidies. If you wonder why the family farm is dead, I'm sure it has nothing to do with this at all.

Sometimes the irony just burns

Quick question:

Is every single conservative Republican a closeted homosexual?

In a repetitive story with a local twist, yet another Republican has been arrested for solicitng gay sex, this time it was Idaho Senator Larry Craig, who has been charged with looking for loving in the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport.

In addition to having the usual laughable excuse ("I was just in there looking for directions on how to get away from there!"), Sen. Craig was also a big supporter of Mitt "If I Don't Support You Today, I Will Tomorrow" Romney, a famous flip-flopper on the question of gay rights.

Incidentally, I remember reading years ago of an academic study (I want to say it was in psychology) that found that men who had the most self-reported homophobic feelings were also those who were most aroused by gay pornography in a lab setting. The thrust of the article was that often the most virulently homophobic are actually closeted homosexuals who can't or won't come to grips with who they are. If anybody else remembers or knows of this study, I'd love to get my hands on it. It seems as if the conservative movement has dedicated the last 5 years or so validating the findings.

-----------------
Updated for extra irony:

Here's what this particular Senator had to say in 1999:

MR. RUSSERT: Larry Craig, would you want the last word from the Senate be an acquittal of the president and no censure?

SEN. CRAIG: Well, I don’t know where the Senate’s going to be on that issue of an up or down vote on impeachment, but I will tell you that the Senate certainly can bring about a censure reslution and it’s a slap on the wrist. It’s a, “Bad boy, Bill Clinton. You’re a naughty boy.”

The American people already know that Bill Clinton is a bad boy, a naughtyboy.

I’m going to speak out for the citizens of my state, who in the majority think that Bill Clinton is probably even a nasty, bad, naughty boy.

Travel recollections

I'm finally back safe and sound on the 3rd coast, having survived the depravity and cultural elitism of the East Coast. Far too much happened in the two week span to recall here, but I figured I'd throw some stuff out there, because it was an awfuly interesting little jaunt.

Things I learned on my travels:

1) Geraldo flies commercial. No private jet for this man of the people. Though he was riding first class.

2) Midwesterners are still completely awe-struck by the most minor of celebrities.

3) At a good academic conference, academics should be the least of your concern. There's a great deal of fun to be had in New York, whether it be crazy little diners with 25-page menus, a dance club that used to be a shady massage parlor named "Happy Endings," or even just wandering aimlessly for hours because you're lost. It's all very exciting. I did actually make it to a couple of the actual meeting sessions and learned a bunch of intersting things, but that's far less exciting.

4) People in Boston really talk like that. You know, with the word "wicked" and without the letter R. It's like being in a colorful sitcom 24 hours a day.

5) Travelling by train, although about 57 hours longer than a flight, is far superior to any other mode of transportation. The seats are actually large enough for a human being to fit in, and there is an actual dining car. Like in the movies and all that. That shit is crazy old-timey fun.

6) The nice people of the Village are really concerned that you don't accidentally walk into a gay bar. While out in the village with a few friends, two of whom were gay, we were warned both by a random stranger and by the guy working the door at the bar that we should know we were about to enter a gay bar. Apparently, we must have looked extra Midwestern that night, not like the sophisticated New Yorkers we were trying to imitate.

7) The East Coast is really, really expensive.


Well, there's probably several hundred more things I could write, but seeing as this is already a rather inwardly-focused, self-centered post, it's probably best to stop there. Suffice it to say that there were a lot of really fun and crazy times, so just give me a holler if you want to hear the good stories.

East Coast Tour '07

Blogging is going to be even lighter than it's been lately as I head out for my East Coast tour tomorrow. Well, it's not so much a tour as it is going two places, but hey, that technically makes it a tour.

Anyway, first a stop in the most entertaining and over-rated city in the world for the annual American Sociological Association meetings (which are exactly as exciting as they sound) and then onto Boston to help out for awhile with the Matt Geary for Boston city council campaign .

As the bridge collapse has forced me to take some time off of the project I'm working on right now (for some odd reason, police officers, medical examiners and coroners, and media folks all seem to be really busy right now), it should be a fun, interesting, and relatively carefree trip. I'll be turning 25 on Saturday while in New York City, which I have heard has a decent night life, so that could turn out to be a fairly interesting evening. I've already got one invite for a BYOB karaoke bar in Korea town from an old college bandmate, but I have to imagine one or two other things may happen that evening. Then I get to stumble home to a one-bedroom apartment that has been converted into a hotel room, in which we're cramming 6 people. Well, 6 people thus far with the possibility of more, but such is the life of the bohemian graduate student.

Boston should be just as much fun, but in a less getting-drunk-in-a-crazy-city way and more in a sticking-it-to-the-man kind of way, as I'll be helping one of my comrades in his quest to be elected to the Boston city council. If you live in Boston, or really anywhere on the Eastern seaboard, you should make an attempt to help out as well. Matt is the candidate of Socialist Alternative and is hopefully the first of many candidates our budding organization will run for office throughout the nation. Exciting stuff, if you believe in the equitable distribution of power and resources.

So this is likely my last post for the next two weeks unless I run into a computer in Boston, so check back in late August for what I can only assume will be some posts chock full of colorful travel stories and snarky digs at snooty East coast assholes.

Sometimes I wonder...

...Why I even try comedy writing when others do such a better job than I. But it is indeed true that the Pentagon has lost nearly 200,000 guns in Iraq, or in other words, one gun for roughly every 130 Iraqis, which may not sound like much, but I'm fairly certain there were already some guns floating around before this.

Anyway, lately so many of these updates have been so ridiculous that I can't even figure out a way to make a joke about what's going on, because it's already become such a tragic comedy of errors over there that making fun of how the war is being handled is like a Saturday Night Live skecth about Paris Hilton: the target is so easy to mock that it almost seems more mean than funny (though that's probably a bad comparison, because nothing on Saturday Night Live is ever funny). And I think that's the most telling point of all--that an ardently anti-war activist such as myself is biting his tongue because it just seems mean to continue to point out how completely inept our current government is.

Or maybe I'm just becoming a bit too Minnesotan...

Fuck corporate tie-ins

For a long time, I (and many other rabid fans) have held my toungue on the Simpsons rampant merchandising. While they parody the concept of over-the-hill t.v. characters cashing in on their questionable fame constantly, especially through Hershel Schmoikel Krustofsky, Matt Groening and company have certainly gotten the merchandising bug themselves once or twice. Of course, that's a polite way of saying they'll liscence any product that they come within 500 feet of. Especially with the movie, it's gotten insane lately. I've seen everything short of the Simpsons Home Pregnancy Test (Warning: May cause birth defects), but I wouldn't be too suprised to see it at this point.

The rampant commercialism of all these tie-ins bothers me on a philosophical and political level, but also at the much more immediate level. Being an ardent Simpsons lover, well-meaning yet misguided friends and family members have always bought me that stuff, incorrectly assuming that because I enjoy a television show greatly, I would then also enjoy a really shitty product based on said show. Now don't get me wrong, some of the stuff has been pretty cool (I still haven't figured out the Homer rubiks cube), but much of it remains unopened, left sitting there too useles to use, but something I feel too guilty to give away since it was given by a friend/loved one in a genuine attempt to get me something that I would appreciate.

But the final straw has finally broken this proverbial camel's back. Recently, Burger King has designed a website as a cross-promotion for the movie called simpsonizeme.com, where one can ostensibly upload a picture of themselves and have it remade in the style of Simpsons animation. A few people I know have used it, and it's eerily uncanny for the most of them.

So finally, finally we have a lucrative corporate tie-in that's legitimately cool. Has the problem been solved? Of course not, because I can't get it to fucking work for the life of me. I followed all the instructions on the page, down to taking a picture of just my face, with good lighting, in front of a plain white wall, and wearing a text-less t-shirt so as to reduce all possible digital noise. I have tried using said photo on a Mac and a PC, and in both cases used at least three different browsers. And I've come up with nothing. Every time, I get the same infuriating message that the system is too busy and I should try back later, whether I try it at 3 a.m. or 5 p.m.

In a way, this kind of sums up the week I just had. Not particularly bad, but just full of dissapointment on many levels. But hey, it's now less than a week until my birthday, and my parents bought me a coffee maker. And a microwave. And we found a used couch for super cheap that's actually a hide-a-bed. I dare say things are looking up, even though they're not looking Simpsonized at all...

Tragic disasters can be a real pain in the ass...

Fortunately, or as fortunate as this can be, the death toll in the bridge accident is much lower than I or what I would imagine most people previously thought. Last I checked, the death toll was holding at 4 confirmed, altough about 30 more people were missing and are pretty much presumed dead at this point. While this is a terrible tragedy anyway you look at it, the numbers of dead are thankfully not anwhere near where I thought they would be, given how packed the bridge was during rush hour and the fact that it crashed into a pretty wide and deep seciton of the Mississippi.

Though you want a real tragedy to cry about? Well, I'm trying to work on an interview project with police officers and county medical examiners and coroners that was finally getting off the ground. And for some reason, now they're all too busy to talk to me. Talk about your real victims. This tragedy could not have come at a worse time for me.

Of course, none of that was serious. Well, I mean I really can't get the interviews now, but the rest of it was a joke. Probably in poor taste, but we all have our own coping mechanisms...

Phew...

Damn.

Not much that can be said about it right now, but it seems even crazier when it's 3 blocks from home.

Crazy, crazy, crazy.

But for those who are wondering, I am indeed safe. Thanks for your concern...

Dragged kicking and screaming into adulthood

I've never been one to compromise my values for a buck, but sometimes life gets a little bit more complicated than that. Case in point, I start my first of hopefully many interviews tomorrow for my current research project. While I'll spare you the boring details, the interviews are going to be mostly with members of the criminal justice field. These folks are notoriously tight-lipped, and they're probably even less likely to open up to a guy with a 6-inch long mohawk.

So tonight I am cutting my hair in the interest of professional advancement.

To be fair, I'm kind of getting sick of the haircut anyway, but still, my main impetus for the new 'do is most assuredly a vain attempt to look professional. Right now I'm justifying it by telling myself that it's a greater good type thing, i.e. my project will do more to advance critical thought than an obnoxious haircut. But it still stings a little bit.

I think it's just a little bit more of a bitter pill to swallow because it's emblematic of a larger struggle in my life right now. The problem for an anti-materialist li'l punk like myself is that the vast majority of our culture's signifiers of adulthood center around consumption and the ceasing of deviant behavior. Think about it--a good job, a home, a car, marriage, children...all of them require money and leave little time for anything else, especially radical politics.

Normally, this wouldn't be such a big deal. I more than used to rejecting society's norms by this point in my life, but being the youngest of a youngest child and always by far the youngest child in my grade throughout all of my school life (up to and including grad school), I've developed a bit of a complex about being accepted by the older kids. And doing radical scholarship, it's extra infuriating when people write it off a youthful phase that I will most assuredly grow out of once the weight of the world has crushed my spirit, much like it did theirs. It's been getting to me even more lately, as I'm in a profession that on its outset looks pretty left-leaning, but in reality is just as shallow and careerist as any other field. And the folks in the my department, most of whom make little to no effort to disguise the fact they respect neither my research nor myself, put a great deal of pressure on one to become more respectable, only adding to my little pocket of anomie. And it doesn't really help any that I look like I'm about 14 years old, which certainly doesn't make me feel very adult-like.

So as soon as this post is done, the clippers are coming out and I'll be a respectable looking young chap once again. Now I'm a firm believer in the notion that one does not need to abandon their youthful ideals simply because they're not in college anymore and their girlfriend/boss/parents all tell them they should settle down, but finding the balance is becoming a bit harder than I thought it'd be.

Becoming Minnesotan, step by step

Growing up in the middle of nowhere, I missed out on a lot of things, good music being cheif amongst them. Sure, I could find things here and there on travels and hear about things form friends, but this was pre-internet, and it's not exactly like I could walk down to the nearest collective and pick up the latest issue of Chunklet. So needless to say, I've been in the dark about a great number of things.

For example, local heroes Dillinger Four. I had gained a passing familiarity with their music while in college, but had noweher near the love for them that most Mpls folks do. I mean, I knew that one of them ownd my owned one of my favorite watering holes, but I didn't even know that the crazy huge bartender there was another member of the band.

But after winning free tiickets to their latest show through the Arise! punk dating game, I can say I'm finally a convert. According to some witty inter-song banter from Paddy, D4 is apparently ranked 22nd on some list of bands you should see live before you die. So, as he pointed out, I guess I can now die a little less disappointed with my life.

And a little more Minnesotan...

Some political ramblings

Two good bits form Tom Tomorrow that should be getting much more attention.

First, here's one soldier's description of what a typical house raid is like. Keep in mind, hundreds of these raids are going on every night in Iraq:

Raids normally took place between midnight and 5 am, according to Sgt. John Bruhns, 29, of Philadelphia, who estimates that he took part in raids of nearly 1,000 Iraqi homes. He served in Baghdad and Abu Ghraib, a city infamous for its prison, located twenty miles west of the capital, with the Third Brigade, First Armor Division, First Battalion, for one year beginning in April 2003. His descriptions of raid procedures closely echoed those of eight other veterans who served in locations as diverse as Kirkuk, Samarra, Baghdad, Mosul and Tikrit.

“You want to catch them off guard,” Sergeant Bruhns explained. “You want to catch them in their sleep.” About ten troops were involved in each raid, he said, with five stationed outside and the rest searching the home.

Once they were in front of the home, troops, some wearing Kevlar helmets and flak vests with grenade launchers mounted on their weapons, kicked the door in, according to Sergeant Bruhns, who dispassionately described the procedure:

“You run in. And if there’s lights, you turn them on–if the lights are working. If not, you’ve got flashlights…. You leave one rifle team outside while one rifle team goes inside. Each rifle team leader has a headset on with an earpiece and a microphone where he can communicate with the other rifle team leader that’s outside.

“You go up the stairs. You grab the man of the house. You rip him out of bed in front of his wife. You put him up against the wall. You have junior-level troops, PFCs [privates first class], specialists will run into the other rooms and grab the family, and you’ll group them all together. Then you go into a room and you tear the room to shreds and you make sure there’s no weapons or anything that they can use to attack us.

“You get the interpreter and you get the man of the home, and you have him at gunpoint, and you’ll ask the interpreter to ask him: ‘Do you have any weapons? Do you have any anti-US propaganda, anything at all–anything–anything in here that would lead us to believe that you are somehow involved in insurgent activity or anti-coalition forces activity?’

“Normally they’ll say no, because that’s normally the truth,” Sergeant Bruhns said. “So what you’ll do is you’ll take his sofa cushions and you’ll dump them. If he has a couch, you’ll turn the couch upside down. You’ll go into the fridge, if he has a fridge, and you’ll throw everything on the floor, and you’ll take his drawers and you’ll dump them…. You’ll open up his closet and you’ll throw all the clothes on the floor and basically leave his house looking like a hurricane just hit it.

“And if you find something, then you’ll detain him. If not, you’ll say, ‘Sorry to disturb you. Have a nice evening.’ So you’ve just humiliated this man in front of his entire family and terrorized his entire family and you’ve destroyed his home. And then you go right next door and you do the same thing in a hundred homes.”

And, in what I'm sure is completely un-related news, it turns out that even Republicans don't like the Republican nominations for president. According to a recent Ipsos/AP poll, 25% of registered Republicans had no candidate in the field they liked, which was well ahead of the number that supported any particular candidate. If only we could find a Democrat who will actually end the war...

How is this not America’s most popular sport?

Recently, the trib has run several critical stories on the upcoming hockey fighting camp, in which youngsters are taught the finer points of the only reason to watch hockey.

I'm really fascinated by what this says about us as a nation--Americans are always branded as violent thugs, yet this game of violent thuggery is fading and could soon be dieing. Major newspapers across the nation are dropping their coverage of their local hockey team's away games because the sport is fading so much that they don't want to waste the couple hundred bucks to send a staffer out on the road. Some newspapers are dropping coverage all together, and it doesn't look like the NHL is doing much of anything to reverse the tide.

Maybe I'm just too wired into negative case examples because of the current project I'm working on, but I can't figure out why hockey is losing popularity so quickly. If it's true that Americans are so drawn to violence (which is a fairly difficult claim to prove, but seems to have some face validity) why is the most violent of the major professional sports declining? Yes, we still have gruesomely violent football, but if you get into a fight in football, you’re suspended for several games. In hockey, it’s two minutes in a box unless you really mess up the guy.

In fact, take a quick perusal of Rule 56, a/k/a the "fisticuffs" rule. in addition to being the only thing written after the year 1920 to use the word "fisticuffs" earnestnly, it outlines the rules and punishments that govern fighting in Hockey. Not only do most of the rules only focus on the instigator, but some rules even reduce punishment for a fella who makes the fight even. For example, check out Note 4:

"If a player penalized as an instigator of an altercation is wearing a face shield, he shall be assessed an additional Unsportsmanlike Conduct penalty.
(NOTE 4) Should the player who instigates the fight be wearing a face shield, but removes it before instigating the altercation, the additional Unsportsmanlike Conduct penalty shall not apply."

Think about the equivalent: what would the reaction be if Major League Baseball said that a player wouldn't be suspended if he took off his helmet before charging the mound? I can't help but believe such an announcement would be met with all forms of righteous indignation, but in hockey, it's just par for the course.

As for Mr. Boogaard's camp, I think the outrage shown over a hockey player teaching children to fight is a bit misplaced at best (I would wager that an illegal and immoral war that has taken over 600,000 lives teaches children much more about the acceptability of violence as a solution to our problems than does a one-afternoon course on hockey fights), but the outrage alone speaks volumes about the complex relationship we have with our violence, especially in relms where violence is not only accepted, but encouraged as the only way to win. I'd like to think it signals a shift in our collective attitude about the acceptance of violence, but with the surging popularity of "ultimate fighting" and other such blood-sports, I must dejectedly admit their must be some other force at play here.

I'm fairly certain Clinton inhaled as well...

In a story that's getting shockingly little local coverage (read: zero), Norman Kent, a Ft. Lauderdale-based lawyer and former college buddy of conservative local Sentaor Norm Colman, recently published an article on Alternet alleging that the currently harshly anti-drug Senator once smoked plenty of pot. And given most of the legislation the esteemed Sentaor supports, I wouldn't doubt that he's still using it quite frequently.

Sentaor Colman has yet to respond to the accusation of former pot-head-ness, but it's a pretty believable story: man smokes a bunch of pot during college, goes on to successful private career, and then gains easy votes by denouncing his former pasttime. And as most social survey ecidence shows that many Americans are regular marijuana users and the majority of Americans have at least tried it, this story serves as a great exemplar of a disturbing wider societal trend--while many, if not most, Americans are using marijuana, we are at the same time incarcerating folks at the highest clip in the world, most of whom are just coincidentally poor and/or ethnic/racial minorities.

At this point in the "debate" I basically feel like we're arguing with the anti-evolutionists. If all the evidence in the world points to the fact that marijuana is non-harmful (or at the very least, far much less so than two other widely-available and legal drugs you may know of) and completely non-addictive and yet you refuse to believe that and argue for its continued legal ban, then there's obviously nothing that can be said to convince you otherwise.

But man, when they discover new dinosaur bones next to primitive dinasuar-sized bongs, Norm Coleman and the rest of those folks sure are going to be pissed.

Those damn kids and their music

I often feel like my generation is the America of generations. The analogy is a bit tortured, but quite apt on a certain level. While it seems all other generations have had outspoken leaders and activists working to make the world better, while my generation has a couple of those, try to name one. This is much in the way American's tend not to care much for even talking about social equality issues, while most of the rest of the world at least pays attention to, say, a certain illegal and immoral war that has killed well over 600,000 people.

But more to the point, the analogy came to me the other night while I was thinking about the Beatles. I've never really been into the Beatles, and while I don't deny that they're a good band, I would probably call them the most over-rated band in history and I really prefer most of their solo stuff to Beatles music (of course with the exception of Paul's music, because nobody has ever liked Paul's music. Linda was just faking it to push her vegetarian agenda).

Nonetheless, those Beatles did make a huge impact on both pop music and pop culture. To think that they went from wanting to hold your hand to having blisters on their fingers in such a short time span simply amazes me. The only equivalent for my generation would be if all of a sudden N*Sync had switched from glossy, over-produced boy band music to openly experimenting with illicit drugs and radical politics while pushing the definition of pop music in strange and new directions.

Think about it--until they started with the jazz cigarettes, the Beatles were just an N*Sync that played their own instruments. Depressingly, that would make Justin Timberlake the John Lennon of my generation. I guess that would mean that Cameron Diaz is our Yoko, and Britney Spears is…uh…the Pete Best of my generation.

Yep, that seems to sum it all up. My folks had John Lennon and I have Justin Timberlake. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm quite glad that sexy has finally been returned to its rightful place, but it's just that exhorting a crowd to rock their bodies seems somewhat less meaningful than asking them to give peace a chance.

Et tu, Flaming Lips?

For those of you who are not in the Twin Cities area, you probably know nothing of Myth, the suburban rock club. And not sub-urban, as in some witty play on an underground theme, but rather in reference to the place you go to live so that you don't have to be near black people.

I have long refused to go the subrubs for any but the most important reasons, and usually those involve getting arrested outside the headquarters of major weapons manufacturers. However, I begrudgingly recognize that in a capitalist state we need those rascists and their money to keep our neat little city humming. It's sort of a Faustin bargain that those of us with morals/ideals have to make--major cities just can't survive without assholes, it seems. Myth, however, takes it all to a new level. Not only is it trying to ramove the last of any reasons racist suburbanites would come to the city and give us their ill-begotten money (e.g. in exchange for actual entertainment), but it's also now owned by local ego-maniacal car-magnate Denny Hecker, who in addition to purchasing apparently everything he can, always appears to be a cheeseburger shy of a heart attack, which only adds to the reasons to boycott (his ego-maniacal purchase of everything in the Twin Cities area, not his imminent stress-induced death).

As for now, it's been a preety easy boycott to maintain, with the majority of concerts featuring people you would expect at a suburban night club, with the exception of what were probably some decent shows, such as the recent Nas appearance.

However, the bar has been re-set. It was recently announced the the only Minnesota tour stop of the Flaming Lips will be at Myth. Fortunately, I got the chance to see the Lips do a show with Sonic Youth at the State Fair last year, so again, it won't be much of task to keep myself from attending. But it does mark the start of what could be a disturbing trend of good bands playing at there. The suburbanites have already damaged us enough with the massive pollution from their hour-plus daily commutes, their repeated elections of right-wing nut jobs to national offices, and their constant production of wealthy ersatz-punk teenagers clogging shows with their latest Hot Topic purchases. Must they steal our last vestiges of hope by taking away our good alt-rock psychedlia as well?

Paging Dr. Freud...

Pardon the cheesy post title, but there's really nothing else that could adequately cover this story.

It turns out, the Pentagon has recently confirmed it attempted to develop a "gay bomb," which would deploy a chemical causing the enemy combatants to become so aroused they would instantly turn homosexual and be so in love with each other that they would be unable to fight.

Yes. This is actually what the Air Force requested $7.5 million in funding for, to develop and test such a weapon. This request came in the year 1994. 1994!

Again, I cannot emphasize enough the fact that I am not making this up. Only 13 years ago the Air Force was petitioning our government for funding to develop a bomb that turns our enemies gay, because sissy gay people can only make out and not fight.

Well, if nothing else, this should be an interesting conversation starter for folks at this weekend's Pride Fest.

Your dog fucking hates marijuana

By now, pretty much everyone is familiar with the nearly $200 million U.S. Gov't campaign Above the Influence and it's incredibly idiotic commercials that really appear to have been done by stoners, ironically. One could go into an extended rant about how conservatives who complain about excessive government spending seem to have no problem with throwing away millions upon millions of tax-payer dollars to poorly-conceived anti-drug ads, but that would be small and petty.

Me, I'm more reminded of the brilliant episode of Strangers with Candy, in which the drug counselor brought into the school to teach children the horrors of marijuana says something to the effect of "Oh sure, you may have heard of the 'scientific studies' proving that pot is 'not addictive' and 'not harmful,' but if you choose to smoke weed, you're going to be spending a lot of time laughing and having fun with your friends. Are you prepared to deal with that?"

Well, sadly, our government has hit about the same level of discourse. After being finally forced to admit that marijuana does very little physiological damage (especially in comparison to alcohol or cigarettes), the brilliant chums down at the ONDCP have turned to telling us that our pet dogs won't like us if we smoke up.

First, they started with a poorly drawn cartoon:


Seeing as that brilliant gem apparently failed to stop our nation's youth from the deadly clutches of the vile weed, the ONDCP has cooked up a new live action version, in which a weird talking dog informs a young lady that she's different when she smokes and that he misses hanging out with her. Unfortunately, this version hasn't been youtubed yet, but if you turn on your t.v., you'll surely see it within 5 minutes.

For a scholar of deviance such as myself, these commercials represent an interesting break from the commercials of the past. Whereas in my childhood we were told our brain would be fried like an egg if we used drugs, today's kids are receiving a bit less fear-inducing message. It's an interesting shift of strategy, no doubt in response to the increasing field of medical studies on the subject, and could almost be seen as a positive devlopment (at least they're not out-and-out lying about the effects of marijuana anymore).

But on the other hand, we must remember that while 50 million Americans have no health insurance, an illegal and immoral war has already claimed over 600,000 lives and counting, and our public schools are crumbling, your goverment sees it as a top priority to inform you that if you use marijuana, your dog will not like you anymore.

Unfortunately, we have no information on how your cat feels about your rampant marijuana use yet.

News you can use on the 5 second rule...

A great article appeared in the Strib today on the long-held yet controversial 5 second rule. Two seniors at Conneticut College have performed a study testing how long food can sit on the groud before it goes bad.

And as usual, it turns out the stoner kid in the weird-smelling room at the end of the dorm hallway was totally right. The pair of researchers found out that food can usually sit on the ground for up to 30 seconds before it becomes infected with any more germs than it would sitting on your table, and more solid foods (such as the Skittles they used) could often last up to 5 minutes before one could distinguish them from those still safely on the table.

So the next time you clumsily knock your food to the floor and the person next to you snarkily says "You're not going to eat that, are you?" you can tell them it's not only your right as an American to follow the five second rule, but that it has scientific backing as well.

The trials and tribulation of a hardcore skate punk

After months of borrowing my brother's, I finally went out last week and bought my own long board. The long board is basically just a really big skateboard designed more for going long distances and maneuvering around tight spots that it is for the jumps and tricks of the skateboards most people are used to. They're also really, really fun.

The great thing about skating in general is that it's humbling sport. Whenever you're starting to get cocky about what you can do, something comes along to knock you off your high horse. For example, on only the second day I had my own board, I was trying to navigate around some folks hogging the sidewalk when one of my wheels caught the grass, stopping the board and sending me flying. But at least it was a quality wipe-out, complete with full head-over-heel 360 and flailing limbs and all that.

But unfortunately I landed on my elbow, which swelled to the size of a grapefruit that night. Only now 4 days later can I even move it about 20% of its range and I still can't carry any weight in that hand.

But that's all in a day's work for a hardcore sk8 punk such as myself...

A must-hear

Not since noted Republican-party fundraiser Ozzy sang Working Class Hero, has a match-up this odd come about:

At a recent BBC live show, Marilyn Mason sang a quite haunting acoustic version of Justin Timberlake's recent hit "What Goes Around.../...Comes Around[sic]" (download it here).

Now, as anyone close to me knows, I have a fascination with JT that goes far-beyond my latent homosexuality, though it's more for his business-savvy in the industry (another post to be sure, but it is fascinating, I assure you), as opposed to the music he makes. Though, to be fair, he does make some good booty-shaking music.

But I think it's a bit more surprising to think that Mr./Mz. Manson has a similar fascination. It obviously can't be just a publicity stunt like so many ironic covers, because even ironically it wouldn't go over with his fans, but also because he sings it with such earnestness that you have to believe him when he says he genuinely enjoys the song.

Anyway, it's too late to think of a snarky way to bring this whole post home, but do yourself a favor and listen to the song and ponder the sheer oddity of the situaion you experience in both the unlikely event of Marilyn Manson singing Justin Timberlake, but also your enjoyment of such a seeming abomination...

I could be a #2 draft pick

Inspired by some interesting musings from the lawyer about the current state of the world...

So, by now pretty much all sports fans have heard about how sure #2 pick in the NBA draft Kevin Durant failed to bench 185 pounds at the pre-draft camp. Now, 185 pounds is a sizeable amount, but one that even your humble neighborhood blogger can manage a couple of times. Sure, mine aren't pretty, precise reps, but I can at least move the bar up and down, somehting Durant failed to do.

But you know who else can do it, reportedly 5 full times? That's right, everybody's favorite president. This could really explain a great deal, though. I mean, if you're working out enough that you can purportedly bench a theoretical max of 213 (my max is 234, but I've got a good 30-40 years of youth on my side) and run a 6:45 mile, you really don't have the time to read all those stupid security breifings or look for weapons of mass destruction or any other such pesky thing that might get in the way of your workout.

As for Durant, I would like to note that I, too, am available for the 2007 NBA draft. Or alternatley, even though I have my B.A., I still have all 4 years of my collegiate eligibility out there, in case Texas needs someone to replace him. Just putting that out there...

Happy 300!

This post, my internet friends, is my humble 300th post. Each time I put up another hundred posts, I always feel it to be a good occassion to stop and recollect on life and whatnot, for as this humble li'l blog has grown, so too has the humble li'l blogger who writes it.

Sadly, this blog is actually a pretty good descriptor of my life. When I began blogging low these 2 and a half years ago, it's amazing to think of how different I was then. I suppose it's mainly a function of the lifecourse, in that I'm at an age where people probably change a bit more rapidly than they do in later years.

When I started the blog, my original goal with it was to make it a touchstone for the local political scene, that scene being the Waterloo/Cedar Falls (IA) area, so it really wasn't that big of a goal. But over time I learned what many before me have found; namely, that political diatribes are not likely to gain much attention. So, in my blog life, as in my real life, I've (hopefully) learned how to balance the politics with the rest of life, so as to hopefully be a little less "that guy" and a bit more entertaining, or at least, less annoying.

In my time on the interweb, I've been the subject of right-wing attacks, had a call from Jesus on his way to jury duty, been visited by the feds, came to yet another school, and of course, previously reflected on my own blog.

I've laughed, I've learned, I've cried, I've become somewhat computer literate. And according to the site tracker on my blog, I have gained a regular reader in India.

Not too shabby for something I initially started because I was bored at work...

A story so hackneyed it would make Tommy Chong and John Kerry blush simultaneously

A few days back, a pair of friends of mine who will be labeled "Sheryl" and "Scott" (to protect their identities) were under the influence of a widely-available and non-lethal, yet illegal, narcotic often known for increasing one's propensity towards food consumption whilst under its influence.

Anyway, they were late on their way to a semi-important meeting when a stranger approached them on the sidewalk. It turns out that this stranger was actually the owner of the coffee shop they were passing and wanted to know if the two of them would be interested in judging a pastry competition.

While one of the pair depesrately wanted to stay and consume a large amount of free pastries, the other felt incredibly compelled to get back to the semi-important meeting and poured so much guilt upon the other that the ideas was dropped, and both went to the meeting with empty stomachs.

In the end, I have to chalk up stories like this to the my counsel's old theory that many of the events in our lives are far too cartoonish to be believable in fiction. I mean, imagine it. If I were to pitch a story to Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong in which two young people are baked out of their minds and receive an impromptu offer to be participating judges in a pastry contest, even these two veterans of illict substance use would be forced to share a knowing look, sigh loudly at the precociously false tales youngsters always tell, and state loudly that this has not and will never happen in real life.

But it did, and my ignorant friends turned it down in a move that could only be compared to say, someone running for president and losing against a guy with an approval rating of 30% who is widely regarded as the worst president in history even by members of his own party. Yes, my anonymous, hemp-smoking friends reached a new height of stupidity that can be described as only Kerry-esque.

And that my friends, is a completely true and yet completely unbelievable story.

Children ruin everything

I'm in no hurry to have children in life, mainly because they're parasitic creatures that do nothing but spend your money while ruining what little life you have. I mean, I'm sure I'll have one or two sometime as old-age insurance (much more relevant now that social security will be gone soon), but I'm certainly waiting on that for quite some time.

Case in point of how children ruin your life: Bat Girl is shutting down her blog in what could be one of the saddest days in the short history of blogs.

For those who don't know, Bat Girl (née Ann Ursu) built up quit a following in Twins territory for ehr exhaustive re-caps of every game (a pretty impressive feat for a 162-game season), as well as coming up with a great roster of nicknames, the concept of the Boyfriend of the Day, and of course, Legovision, the only true way to enjoy baseball. The greatness of her blog was pretty much summed up in her slogan "Less Stats, More Sass," the kind of slogan that could only make sense in a baseball blog.

How is this relelvant? Bat Girl has had to step down because her newborn child is simply taking up too much of her time. It's truly a sad day to see Bat Girl hang it up, because she was probably the most entertaining baseball analyst I've ever come across, and she created not only a great lexicon, but truly a familial feel amongst Twinkie fans. She will be sorely missed.

A walk down memory lane...

In my anual retreating-from-the-world fest I always have at the beginning of summer, I journeyed back home to my folks place, which is pretty much like cutting off all communication with the world, especially with a 28.8 modem on dialup (it's perpetually 1997 in Fort Dodge). But currently, the folks are trying to get me to clear out the last vestiges of my stuff that is still stored there, which is actually pretty fun, because it's like looking into the deep recesses of my past, but all conveniently located in the attic.

For example, I found my most beloved child-hood stuffed animal, a unicorn named Mr. Unicorn (I wasn't a very creative child). For years now I thought he was lost to the ages, but this was a momentous find, for my love for unicorns cannot be overstated, but that's another post for another day.

But even more exciting was cleaning out a box of stuff from college in which I found my first-ever anonymous death threat, another great artifact I had feared lost. Not only is it the first, but I would argue it is the best, and not just for sentimental reasons. I found it stuffed under the door handle of my car one day. At that point in my life I was driving a very tiny Ford Festiva that I had festoned with all sorts of spray-painted messages against the war. I bought the car for $100, so I figured I might as well make it into a driving billboard of my political beliefs while I'm at it. Well, this letter came from someone bravely identifying themselves as "Anonymous USAF" (funny thing about death threats is that the cowards never have the guts to use their names, just further filling out the ridiculousness of their actions).

Highlights of the letter include the author claiming that "I die so people like you can bitch about things you don't undertsand" (which again makes this one of the best threats ever, because it apparently came from a ghost) and a great number of factual innacuracies, such as "SADDAM HUSSEIN [sic] has killed millions of people including Americans on Sept. 11th," although to be fair, this was only a year into the war, so the fact that Saddam had nothing to do with 9/11 was information only a year and a half old.

By the end of my undergrad years I ended up getting a good number of death threats, but none are ever as special as the first, which now sits in a beautiful frame next to my computer, reminding me that I must be doing something right with my life...

Art imitating life?

Recently, Ted Mondale, son of local hero and former vice-prez Walt Mondale, just plead guilty to durnk driving charges. As his punishment, he has suggested community service coaching little league baseball.

Now, at first I was tempted to rant on about how crazy it is that the wealthy and powerful not only get such slap-on-the-wrist punishments, but the even more ludicris notion that they get to set their own penalties as well.

However, this got me thinking of a similar situation in which a powerful Minneapolis businessman was sentenced to coach little league hockey as a slap on the wrist punishment. He knew nothing of coaching, but he and a ragtag band of kids with nothing but spunk and moxie on their side won not only the local little league championship, but went on to "sequel" such wins by taking the junior olympics and later a state high-school championship. That man was of course Gordon Bombay, and his team even went on to the Stanly Cup playoffs this year, although Bombay has long since retired from coaching to run a sporting goods store founded by an old family friend.

Now, I have no idea if Ted Mondale is haunted by the fact that he failed to bring home the championship on his vaulted little-league baseball team, but it certainly seems like he's setting the stage for something great. It certainly makes one ponder if we soon could be witness to the rise of the Mighty Nazca's. It also makes you think Ted Mondale should work for a company with a more marketable name, like Duckworth or something to that effect.

Capitol campout today

If you're in the Twin Cities area today, head on over to the steps of the state capitol where those plucky Youth Against War and Racism kids will be camping out to raise awareness and try to re-energize a flagging peace movement.

It'll be good times, with music, speeches, games, food, and all sorts of general activism-type things going on, so...be there, or risk missing the anti-imperialist event of the year.

Comedy is for flops and dandies...

Illustration provided by the Father of Frances

On the bottom of my paper grocery bag, it has a stamp of approval from the "Paper Bag Council."

This is beyond my ability to make a joke.

A group of wealthy business associates get together once a month in high-powered meetings to decide the agenda of the paper fucking bag council.

What are they deciding in there?

Chairman: "Well, gentlemen, as you can see from the numbers, paper is once again king for the proper carrying of light items!"

rest of council: "paper! paper! paperpaperpaperpaper!"

Chairman: "But gentlemen, it must finally be decided: handles or no handles?"

half of council: "handles! handles for e'er! handles or DEATH!"

other half of council: "Nay! Handles be the plaything o' the devil!"

And that is the story of the great Paper Bag Council Split of 1782. It was exactly 200 years later that the council was finally re-convened under the gentle but stern guidance of John Papercouncil the IVth.

The most impressive award I've ever won...for anything...ever

So a couple of weekends ago, the department had its annual Sociology Research Institute. SRI is a great time where folks in the department present their ongoing research, undergrads get a chance to present, grad students get a chance to be discussants, and all other sorts of wonderful things, but mostly it's a time when at the end of the day we get to get drunk on the department's dime.

But while we're getting our free booze, there's always a little ceremony of departmental awards. Well, I'm pretty drunk by this point because, well, free booze, and the band is just about to go on so I need that rock n' roll edge only whiskey can give. So I'm mildly paying attention as the chair goes on and on about some grad student who helped out with something or another, but really I'm only paying attention because I'm an attention whore so I want to make sure that I hear my name if called, because there's no drug I need more in life than the attention of others.

But lo, to my suprise, my name actually was called. It took me a minute to piece it all together, but it turns out if you remember the crazy recruiting party in the snow that I threw, that was the reason I was getting the award.

Now I would love to think that I actually got the award because of service to the department or some such thing because of all the things I do to help out around here, but in all reality, it's a gag award for allowing people to get drunk in my apartment.

But hey, I'll take it, because this li'l piece of recognition, be it a joke or not, is still by far the most impressive award I've ever won for anything:


Pictured: "Award-winning" party-host Jesse Wozniak and unidentified, well-coifed gentleman

My religion is really boring, graphics-wise

This is the officially government-sanctioned symbol of christianity for soldiers and other government officials interned in official government cemetaries.

Recently there's been a bit of a hub-bub about such things because the Wiccan "pentacle" was just accepted as a legitimate religious symbol by the Department of Veterans Affairs. But I don't see what all the rhubarb is about, because that's one of the more boring symbols accepted, beside the plain oo' cross, that is.

For example, there's this symbol, of the church of Sufism Reoriented, which is apparently an airline-based riligion:



But really, no one can top the atheists. Those tricky, godless bastards have what can only be described as a really bad-ass religious (or lack of religious, as the case may be) symbol:



I'm guessing it's to reflect a belief in the rationality of science as opposed to the "irrationality" of organized religion (as if not beliving in something no one can prove or disprove is anymore logical than believing in something no one can prove or disprove...but that's another post). But a more sinister intepretation is that they're planning to blow up the world. Because as we all know, you just can't trust an atheist.

Incidentally , there are no images for the Christian Scientists and Muslims because of "copyright" reasons. I have no idea how to even joke about that one...

The fight back continues

It's long been noted by many people that the biggest reason for the end of the Vietnam war was not social pressure or political logic, but actually soldier dissent within the military, both in the form of refusing to fight and in organizing political movements within the military (for an excellent political doc on the subject, check out 2006's Sir, No Sir).

There has been a fairly good lit on the left produced about the Winter Soldier movement, the coffee house movement, the various resistance publications produced by soldiers, and the myriad other techniques utilized to bring down the war from the inside.

What is heartening is that it's happening again. Recently, Jessica Lynch, the young private form West Virginia who went down in a blaze of glory and was rescued by heroic soldiers bursting into an Iraqi prison camp to free her. Now, of course, those amongst us with critical thinking skills tended to believe the eye-witness accounts that her convoy was hit by a missile and she didn't fire a single shot. Then, instead of being burst out of a prison camp, she was instead simply retrieved from a hospital, where doctors had been working on her injuries and notified American officials that they could come get her and take her home.

But finally, private Lynch has spoken out herself, calling for an end to the prefabricated lies being told about her and many other soldiers. Joined by the family of Pat Tillman, the ex-football star who turned down a lucrative contract to join the Army post-9/11 and was killed by friendly fire but a similar heroics story was spun about him, Lynch has joined a congressional investigation into the cover ups.

I'd like to say this is the beginning of the end for the war, but we all know better than that. But at least it's a good sign...

A hideously unfortunate photograph

University mascots don't exactly translate well to tragedy. It seems like there's a million snarky and/or humorous comments one could make on this photo, but largely I think it's enough to say that someone at the Star Tribune probably got into a good deal of trouble for running this pic.

Today, we are all sure as fuck not Iraqis

33 people dead in a single day?

Sounds like a nice vacation if you live in Somalia, Iraq, Afghanistan, Darfur, Rawanda...

Blah, blah, blah media, blah, blah, blah mental illness, blah, blah, blah today's kids, blah, blah, blah punishment, blah, blah, blah changes, blah, blah, blah



If people got half this upset every time we cluster bombed children...

Well, we sure as hell know what isn't the problem...

By now, you're all probably aware of the shootings on the Virginia Tech campus, in which by last count 22 people have died, making it the worst school shooting episode ever. Out of respect for those involved, I'll resist making a "Worst. Episode. Ever." joke.

But even more disturbing than the fact that a reference to Comic Book Guy is what I come up with in the face of tragedy, is that in response to the shootings, Bush has reaffirmed the right to bear arms.

Now, it seems to me that without the two legally-purchased 9mm guns the shooter was carrying, it would've been far harder to kill these 22 people. It would then seem to logically follow that an easy and efficient way to prevent future shootings would be to limit the general public's access to handguns.

But then again, that would violate the constitution. But not in the good way, like torturing people and not following a multitude of international laws that we've signed and ratified is violating the consitution, but in the bad way, like limiting the ability of crazy-ass idiots to buy all the handguns they want and then go about killing people for no reason would be.

More on Kurt

Because I'm sure no one actually reads the comments section on this blog, I feel the need to pass along some great info from the birdseed lawyer, which he actually got from the Wade Blogs, possibly one of the best blog titles I've e'er come across.

Turns out Kurt Vonnegut was a staff writer at Sports Illustrated for a short period before the magazine was actually published. According to Vonnegut, the publishing company had hired such bad sports writers for the magazine that they had to hire good writers who really didn't care about sports at all. Kurt was of the second batch.

His short tenure at the magazine came to an end when he was assigned to write a story about a race horse that had jumped the rail and terrorized the infield at a local track. Apparentlty, he simply stared at his desk for hours before finally departing the building without a word. Inside his deserted typewriter was this:

"The horse jumped over the fucking fence."

Would you expect anything less from the man? I think that sentence, in that context, with all of its glorious sardonic contempt for the issues that distract our citizenry and its existential understanding of the absurdity of life defines both his career and who he was as a person better than anything else ever could.

The only proof he needed for the existance of god was music

Kurt Vonnegut died today.

This is an especially mournful day for me, as he was really the only fiction writer I liked and respected. Not that I don't like fiction or anything like that, I just don't get books. Well, I mean I know how to read and all that, I just don't know how to find new books. With music, I know enough that I pick an album and see if there's anyone on it I know, or if it's a good label, or if I've read a review, etc. But I'm just not book literate in that way, so Kurt was pretty much the only fiction writer I'd pick up on regular occasion.

He was also a humble Midwestern boy with a good deal of Iowa connections, so I always felt a bit more of a connection to him that most other "populist" writers who usually don't know anything at all about actual working people.

But mostly I just loved the fact that he could tell a good story, but also didn't dick around with useless crap. He put it out there and really seemed to not really care what people thought. For instance, in reflecting on his political beliefs, he wrote:

"At the time I was working in public relations for GE. At the same time, another GE employee, Ronald Regan, was going around to various Chambers of Commerce preaching the evils of Socialism. I never actually met him, so to this day I remain a Socialist."

But really my favorite quote gets more the heart of who Kurt was both as a human and a writer:

"Still and all, why bother? Heres my answer: Many people need desperately to receive this message: 'I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people don't care about them. You are not alone' "

Goodbye Kurt, you will be sorely missed.

Happy Incliment Weather!

April showers bring may flowers...

May flowers bring pilgrims...

And pilgrims bring genocide.

Happy Spring!

World War II and war resistance

Sometimes in graduate study, it feels as if what you're reading has little to no application to the outside world, which is understandable in something like theoretical physics, but a bit more off-putting when you're in sociology. But in reading Jeffry A. Frienden's tome "Global Capitalism" (whic is, ironically, for a history course, not a soc course) I finally again feel like I'm studying somehting that I can sue in my day to day interaction, which helps me feel just a little bit less like I'm wasting my life.

Specifically, Frieden's very interesting (and thorough) treatment of the causes of Fascism in Europe is exactly the kind of intellectual ammunition a young radical loves. In doing anti-war work, people often like to set up the most ridiculous examples, playing what W likes to call "the gotcha game." In much the way proponents of the death penalty always insist that I'd see things differently if my 7 year old daughter were raped and murdered (and they're rarely swayed by the fact that I don't have a 7 year old daughter, so I'm not super concerned what happens to her), the pro-war fokls always like to ask me what I would have done about Hitler.

And my answer has always been that if I had the power to do anything, I wouldn't have started WWII in the first place, in which case we would have had no Hitler. Now, I know it's still probably not going to sway anybody, but Frieden painstakingly points out that the only common factor among autarkic authoritarian governments between the wars was that they were all debtor nations, and the authoritarian parties that rose to power used the resentment caused by these impossible debts to feul their hate campaigns.

Who was behind these unreasonable debts? Well, theoretically it was France and Brittain, but in truth, they were only collecting the debts to pass them along to the Americans who had financed the war. Interestingly, even the nations most affected by WWI in Europe found the repayment plans unreasonable very quickly, but they were not allowed to forgive the debts they were owed because the American government refused to listen to reason and insisted that all debts be paid in full.

The debts owed led to massive inflation (in Germany, prices rose one trillion times their pre-war levels because of the debt payments) and the fascists used this as their main argument in nationalistic fascism.

So, unfortunately, Mussolini, Hitler, and Friends, all can trace their rise to power back to the policies of the good ol' U.S. of A.

So I'd like to point out that maybe we could apply this lesson to certain current global conflicts to prevent such things form happening again, but then again, I guess I'm the kind of guy who would sit by idly while my theoretical 7 year old daughter was murdered, so I guess I don't know too much.

And the War on Drugs rolls on...

I'm sure that anyone taking the time to read this blog is against the war on drugs, probably ardently so. I've certainly been strongly against as long as I can pretty much remember knowing about it, and there's basically nothing that could change my mind on the subject. So it's basically just beating a dead horse to continue talking about it, but it still exists, so we should all continue pointing out how fundamentally corrupt it is.

As a recent ACLU report points out, the War on Drugs is only getting worse as time goes on. The numbers are simply staggering: For instance, African Americans make up 15 percent of drug users, but account for 37 percent of those arrested on drug charges, 59 percent of those convicted, and 74 percent of all drug offenders sentenced to prison.

This means that black folk are nearly 6 times as likely to be sentenced to prison for the same offense as are white folks. And of course, this says nothing of the class nature inherent in the system, but even the ACLU isn't about to get that radical. It speaks very well to what Jeffery Reiman writes about the way in which every step in the criminal justice system is designed to weed out white and upper class offenders and punish the poor and those of color, hence why the percentage of African Americans in the system increases so dramatically at each step.

But it gets even worse. America has 260,000 people in state prisons on nonviolent drug charges; 183,200 (more than 70 percent) are black or Latino.

Again, it seems like a moot point to bring this up amongst readers who I can only assume are already pretty progressive, but I'm reminded of what my old boss David Goodson used to say about the racial nature of the drug war. He always pointed out that you could drive 15 minutes to one side of the college town we lived in where the predominantly (by which I mean about 97%) white university was located and you could find pretty much any drug you wanted with little effort. But the cops weren't always stopping people and doing random searches on campus. Instead, they were all focused on the side of town where he and the vast majority of black folk in the area lived.

So of course, while David had been incarcerated for drug use in the past, all of my white activist friends who were constantly neck-deep in drugs would never see in the inside of a prison, even (as was the case) when they were arrested. But of course we all know that it is actually affirmative action policies that assist African Americans in getting into college that are racist, not a billion-dollar century-long program designed specifically to railroad minorities into prison for victim-less crimes.

Everything is right with the world...

Just got back from a much-needed weekend off, and I can happily report that all is still well in Iowa. The beer is still cheap, the old friends are still good people, and the general public is still painfully, painfully ignorant.

But more importantly, the Twins won their home opener last night. Santana hit a little bump, but nothing the boys couldn't pull him out of. The reigning AL MVP seemed to be still making his case, apparently unaware that he was already given the award. And Joe got a hit. And Torii got a homer. And Nathan did what Nathan always does.

Now, granted, it was one game. And it was against the Orioles. And of our remaining four pitches, one has barely any experience, one has proved he's lost it, and everyone though the other two were dead before the Twins signed them for the year. But I still see this as a good year for the local boys, and I'm going to go ahead and call at least a Wild Card birth for the Twinkies this year. Though this ain't their year, the younger guys can get another year of big-league experience, and if we can get Liriano back next year and bring up some of the big bats that are causing trouble for opposing pitchers in the minors, next year the Twins will be one of the most feared teams in the game.

Oh, and in the meantime, if you're like me and disappointed at bat girl's extended maternity leave, check out the less-charming, but consistent, pulling a Blyleven for your snarky, internet-based Twins commentary.

An interesting read

The Strib's blog this morning finally asks the obvious question: what's the point of a resolution that doesn't really even call for a pullout?

A suprisingly good exmination of the spineless Democraic bill running through Congress right now--go check it out.

The Last Horse Crosses the Finish Line...

So I'm probably the last lefty blog to link to this, but if you haven't seen it yet, check it out.

People (including myself) often want to blame Americans for our lack of knowledge on anything outside of the U.S. or most of the things inside the U.S. But I must say, you have to have some sympathy for us when our media won't even report anything for us to learn.

Weclome, Tubby!

According to several sources, recently deposed University of Kentucky b-ball coach Tubby Smith is coming to the U.

While Tubby is not his actual name (turns out it's Orlando...who knew), you still gotta love a guy who unblinkingly goes by a nickname that is considered an insult 99% of the time. Though to be fair, it reportedly comes from the fact that he liked hanging out in the family wash tub as a youngster, not a bad spot for one of 17 children to get a little alone time, I guess.

But more importantly, this may be the ticket to finally turning around the U's, how shall we put it, lackluster performance in hoops for the past decade. Ever though the ban that prevented us from entering the postseason has long ago been lifted, it seems like we're still in an embargo.

Of course we did just win the National Championship in wrestling and are well on our way to winning yet another hockey championship, but it would be nice for the U to become good in a sport people actually watch and/or care about for a change.

Update on Colorado folks

Elderly women beaten so badly by the police that they had to be taken to the hospital? Serves those bitches right! See what the corporate media had to say about the events in Colorado:

March 20, 2007 - 1:24AM
Colorado Springs Gazette Editorial

Parade crashers
Free to speak; not free to disrupt

http://www.gazette.com/onset?id=20365&template=article.html

Everything went perfectly as planned. For the anti-war war protesters,
that is — not for parade organizers. Just as the party crashers
anticipated, the news on Sunday wasn't about Saturday's St. Patrick's
Day parade downtown — which many people judged the best in recent
memory — but about the disruptions and arrests that occurred when a
handful of anti-war activists tried to hijack it for selfish purposes.
Photos of Colorado Springs cops dragging a woman over the pavement
made the coup complete, providing protesters not only with the press
attention but with the martyr status they obviously crave.


In the process, the city of Colorado Springs was made to look
intolerant toward free speech — when it was simply trying to uphold
parade guidelines and keep a non-ideological celebration of Irishness
from becoming a platform for political statements.


The cops might have handled the protesters more gingerly. A failure to
do so played right into their hands. But the bulk of the blame for
this incident rests with the agitators, who may have gotten a permit
to march, using a bit of subterfuge, but clearly acted in violation of
parade rules that bar demonstrations on social issues.


The police were asked by parade organizers to enforce the rules. When
some of the protesters declined to comply, they were arrested. If
arrested people flop down on the ground and play possum, they run the
risk of getting rugburn when they are forcibly removed. It's a real
drag, so to speak.


Members of the Pikes Peak Justice and Peace Commission say "peace" is
not a social issue, but they're unconvincing. A controversial war is
raging. It's a politically charged, and frequently partisan, issue.
And crashing the St. Patrick's parade constitutes an unwarranted
imposition on thousands of people who came to be entertained, not
indoctrinated.


"It is our goal not to turn this into a confrontational political
atmosphere," parade chairman John O'Donnell said. "It really is to
come and have fun."


It's true that politicians frequently march or ride in the parade.
This opens up event organizers to a charge of inconsistency. So,
perhaps it's time to ban politicians altogether — whom nobody comes to
see, anyway. This would draw the line against politicking more boldly,
for those who are tempted to bend the rules.


Distinctions can get blurred in situations such as this, so let's be
clear. Preventing a political disruption at a non-political event
isn't an infringement of anyone's free speech rights. The protesters
are free to say anything they want, in the appropriate setting — as
they did at an anti-war protest on Sunday, which anyone could attend
who was interested in hearing about the war. But they aren't free to
hijack someone else's event — especially one designed to be apolitical
— in search of a captive audience.


Even if commission members didn't set out to create a scene — and this
had the smell of a planned provocation — they had to be aware it might
occur. But as so often happens with political zealots, their thirst
for attention overcame all other considerations — including their
consideration for other people.

Ah, to be Irish in Colorado

Apparently just hitting the 1920s in Colorado, the police were busy last weekend running the Irish out of town. An old mentor of mine, Fr. Frank Cordaro (retired) went out to Colorado Springs on a speaking tour and while he was there, decided to march in the St. Paddy’s day parade with some other peace and justice folks as part of the Bookman parade entry, a local book store that paid its entry fee and was an accepted parade participant. The Bookman people are peace folks and they have been part of the parade the last couple of years. This year, as they did last year, folks marching with the Bookman mobile wore green T-shirts with the peace sign on the back and front.

Apparently, all was well until they fell in line with the other parade entries, one block into the parade. They were then greeted by a man who identified himself as a parade organizer who told them we were not a legitimate parade entry (despite their having documentation proving they were). The police were immediately called into the fray. And before any clarity or and due process was afforded them, they were thrown off the parade route - some quite literally. Seven of us were arrested and beaten.

Of course, no police were arrested for their illegal and brutal actions.

Check out the nice li’l photo journal of the events here, and sigh in realization that the pigs are the same the world over. Oh, and the fella near the bottom in the choke-hold is the 60+ year old retired priest only two years off of a quadruple bypass surgery that was quite the influential guy in my upbringing. Of course, being a somewhat frail old man with a long history of pacifism, you can understand why he had to be slammed to the ground for the protection of the armed officers.

It's been four fun-filled years

Yeah, it's officially been 4 years since the war started. Sometimes I look at the news and catch myself thinking "Holy shit! That thing is still going on?" I mean, I'm not the smartest guy in the world, and even I can see through all the crap they're putting out on why we need to stay there. And so is the entire American public, who consistently polls over 60% in favor of leaving immediately.

But to lighten your overwhelming depression over the fact that this war is still going on (having well-eclipsed World War II in length at this point), here's a fun way to laugh at the right:

Via Jackson Williams at the Huffpo, a look back at what Bill Kristol and the gang o' superconservatives at the Weekly Standard found so very amusing before the war. (Of course, being the cutting-edge trend setter I am, I already pointed out all of this shit over 2 years ago...)

Here in our office there’s this giant archive of newsclips, transcripts, and Internet postings we collected in the months preceding the war, wherein a world community of jackasses confidently predicted that the events lately unfolding on our television screens could not and would not ever take place. And you can imagine the temptation, we’re sure: A lesser SCRAPBOOK would throw open the file boxes and run through the streets with treasures like these, laughing hysterically.

“This invasion of Iraq, if it goes off, will join the Bay of Pigs, Vietnam, Desert One, Beirut, and Somalia in the history of military catastrophe. What will set it apart, distinguishing it for all time, is the immense–and transparent–political stupidity.”

–Chris Matthews, San Francisco Chronicle, August 25, 2002

* * *

“Iraqis hate the United States government even more than they hate Saddam, and they are even more distrustful of America’s intentions than Saddam’s. . . . [I]f President Bush thinks our invasion and occupation will go smoothly because Iraqis will welcome us, then [he] is deluding himself.”

–New York Times columnist Nicholas D. Kristof, October 4, 2002

* * *

“If history is a guide, you cannot subdue a large and hostile city except by destroying it completely. Short of massacre, we will not inherit a pacified Iraq. . . . To support ‘the groundwork’ for this effort is to support a holocaust, quite soon, against Iraqi civilians and also against the troops on both sides. That is what victory means.”

–James K. Galbraith on the American Prospect website, April 1, 2003

* * *

“Cheney [down arrow] Tells ‘Meet the Press’ just before war, ‘We will be greeted as liberators.’ An arrogant blunder for the ages.”

–Newsweek, April 7, 2003 edition

* * *

“Is Wolfowitz really so ignorant of history as to believe the Iraqis would welcome us as ‘their hoped-for liberators’?”

–Eric Alterman in the April 21, 2003, issue of the Nation

A glorious spring day...

Well, four years of war have come and gone and thousands of angry folk in Minneapolis marched and rallied about it this past weekend.

It was a good rally, the kind that really gets you fired up and full of piss and vinegar to go out there and do something. Which was nice after a long stretch of fairly lackluster "are-we-going-to-even-make-a-difference type protests that had been plaguing the movement for a while.

Most interesting fact learned at the rally: the local rep of Vets For Peace described the thorough pat-down that members of the military receive when they are used as props by government figures for photo ops. But the pat-down is not looking for partisan political signs or offensive imagery; it is instead searching to make certain the soldiers are carrying no weapons they could harm or kill the politicians with. You know, those politicians that support the troops, unlike those of us who want them to come home.

What happens when the military doesn't agree with the hawks

The Democrats have started to make overtures to developing a spine, or at least something resembling one, by proposing a firm fall-2008 withdrawal of troops from Iraq.

Of course,almost as soon as it had been announced, House Republican Leader John Boehner attacked the measure, using the classic "it'll only help our enemies" line, which of course assumes they aren't already winning.

Or even that we could ever win. For, Mr. "I can only hope that's pronounced how it looks" Boehner noted that "Gen. Petraeus [the U.S. commander of forces in Iraq] should be the one making the decisions on what happens on the ground in Iraq, not Nancy Pelosi or John Murtha."

Interesting you should say that, my good sir. So what does Gen. Petraeus have to say about the war? Let's ask him:

"There is no military solution to a problem like that in Iraq, to the insurgency of Iraq," Petraeus said.

Well, sounds good to me.

To be happy again

There are plenty of things in the world that make me happy--flowers, pretty girls, large sandwiches. But few serve to put me in that mood of total ecstasy like making music. To be overly-nerdy about it, it's one of the few times I ever acheive what Mihalyi Csikszentmihaly termed flow, that point where time ceases to exist and you're totally enveloped in what you're doing with no regard to external stimuli.

To that extent, I went out and bought a drum set last week to back up the roomie's new band, which was conveniently missing a drummer. Now, I'm no Flava Flav, but I can play a fair number of instruments. However, percussion was the last line for me to cross. But even though I play like shit, it still gets that ol' time awesome feeling rushing back in, so I guess it's more than worth it. Plus, if you play your cards right, you can still end up in a bad-ass band picture...

Are all Republicans closeted homosexuals? No, seriously...

So by now I'm sure we're all familiar with the Jeff Ganon, the fake news reporter who tossed softball questions at White House press conferences, but it turns out that an entirely different softball metaphor is appropriate for his personal life, in which he's a gay male stripper and escort.

Well, as we all know, he's only the tip of the iceberg. You may have recently heard about Matt Sanchez, the Columbia student who's become a darling of the right because of his story of persecution on the campus of Columbia university. It seems that Mr. Sanchez feels like the elitist liberals at Columbia are making him feel bad for being a soldier. In fact, he's even become Ann Coulter's new best friend.



However, given her recent "faggot" remark about Edwards, and the rest of the right's abject hatred for gay folks, it would probably surprise most (but not those of us who know better) that Mr. Sanchez, years before being a poor, persecuted military man, was actually a gay porn star, who starred in such films as Jawbreaker, Donkey Dick, and Glory Holes Of Fame 3 (though to be fair, this one was wayyy better than 1 or 2), where his "11-inch uncut monster cock" earned him a devoted following.

Now certainly gay folk should be allowed in the military, and can have any political opinion they want, it's just always kind of funny in a sad way when they chose to throw their lot in with the people who think they're inhuman monsters who should be summarily executed. At least it should be interesting to see how Bill O'Reilly and others who have had him on their show and talked about how great of an American he is will justify their positions now. Well, actually, Sanchez could probably help them, because it would seem as if he's got some good experience with getting forced into uncomfortable situations.

A true marker that we're in endgame

Lately the anti-war movement has been doing nothing much but sputtering and stalling. Sure, there have been some pretty major demonstrations (over 300,000 in D.C. in the cold January weather is pretty darn good if you ask me), but it's getting nowhere. The present administration has said on numerous occasions that it simply could not give a shit about the anti-war movement. Some have hope for the Democrats, while the logical amongst us know that's not going to get us anywhere.

But a recent development may be pointing to a real end of the war. Recently, over 1,600 soldiers have signed an appeal for redress to stop the Iraq war, a form of protest permitted by military rules whereby everyone from grunts to the highest ranks can voice their objections to ordered actions.

Check out appealforredress.org to find out more.