George wants his buddies in the telecommunication biz not to face the consequences of helping him illegally tap phones.  From the Washington Post:

Referring to the phone companies’ need for relief, Bush said: “They’re facing billions of dollars of lawsuits.”

Five coordinated, class-action lawsuits are pending against the phone companies, but substantial damages would be awarded only if courts rule that they participated in illegal surveillance affecting millions of people, not just communications involving terrorism suspects overseas. If all the claims were added up, the statutory penalties could be $13,000 per person or $200 per person per day of violation.

* * *

Referring to the plaintiffs’ attorneys, Bush said: “I don’t want to try to get inside their head; I suspect they see, you know, a financial gravy train.”

Two nonprofit groups are overseeing the five class-action cases: the San Francisco-based Electronic Frontier Foundation and the American Civil Liberties Union of Illinois. But each case has at least one for-profit law firm assisting the plaintiffs. At least one law firm is seeking no compensation. There is no prospect that financial damages would be awarded soon.

My favorite Commie rag says:

 US President George Bush used a Thursday White House press conference to issue a belligerent demand that Congress pass a bill effectively gutting Constitutional protections against government spying while granting immunity to telecommunications companies that helped the administration break the law.

The bullying tone of the president, who repeatedly banged the podium while warning of supposed imminent dangers posed by the Congressional delay in renewing the administration’s unfettered power to conduct domestic wiretapping, stood in sharp contradiction with the overwhelming popular hostility towards Bush, whose standing in the polls has fallen to record lows. Despite his deepening political isolation, the Republican president is justifiably confident that the Democratic majority in Congress will ultimately bow to his demands.

The following can be attributed to Timothy Sparapani, Senior Legislative Counsel for the ACLU:

“Contrary to the president’s false claim that those suing the telecoms are doing so because of a ‘financial gravy train,” those who are seeking justice against the companies that sold out their privacy are not in it for the money. This is about the rule of law, and about insisting that corporations not be treated as above the law. You follow the rules, you don’t get sued. It’s as simple as that. Americans deserve their day in court.

“As for getting the help of these companies in the future, the president conveniently fails to mention that the companies will have immunity if they follow the law – namely FISA. For years, the telephone companies knowingly violated that law and should be held accountable.  Because the administration does not want this lawlessness aired publicly, Bush is trying to prevent the courts from doing their job and is now goading Congress to bait them into aiding his administration’s cover-up. A full and public airing of the facts is necessary and overdue. The bottom line in all of these cases is that these giant companies must be held accountable for violating the law and dissuaded from violating the law in the future.”

But here’s my favorite comment:

The Billboard Liberation Front today announced a major new advertising improvement campaign executed on behalf of clients AT&T and the National Security Agency. Focusing on billboards in the San Francisco area, this improvement action is designed to promote and celebrate the innovative collaboration of these two global communications giants.

 

I do not speak ill of the dead.

Or at least not the newly dead.

Joseph McCarthy, for example, has been gone long enough (he died in 1957, a year before I was born) that I have no qualms about describing him as a foul drunkard who indulged a paranoid, psychotic need to persecute and bully by cloaking it in false patriotism. Nor do I have any qualms about asserting that this description is overly generous.

But William F. Buckley, Jr., who defended McCarthy in 1954’s McCarthy and His Enemies, died only yesterday (February 27, 2008).

So I’ll not speak ill of Mr. Buckley.

Instead, I’ll just describe one of the three instances in which Mr. Buckley’s life almost-but-not-quite-and-not-really intersected with mine – with no purpose other than to illustrate what a strange universe it must be that would allow even the slightest of connections between the right-wing, Ivy-League likes of Mr. Buckley and the labor-union-joining, State-School likes of me.

********************

Read More »

And no, that wasn’t a volcano or a plane crash or a really loud rock concert.

That was me, shouting, when I heard twenty minutes ago that Jumper, my first novel published sixteen years ago, will be on the New York Time Best Seller list (Mass Market) on March 9th at position Nineteen.

Thanks to Beth who bought it, Ralph who sold it, Ralph and Vince for getting it sold to the movies, Stacy and Jay and Doug Liman and all the cast and crew for making the movie, and, most of all, ALL YOU GUYS WHO BOUGHT IT IN THE LAST WEEK!!!!

(uh..ahem.) Really.

A few weeks ago we took a deep breath and jumped off a cliff–which is to say, we ordered the cabinets for our new kitchen.

Forget the things you see on TLC and HGTV and all those other channels that cater to the home-remodeling-obsessed. Remodeling any part of your house is complex. And remodeling the kitchen is a particularly chaotic form of complex. Everything depends on everything else, see. So, for example, when we wanted to order the cabinets we couldn’t just order the cabinets. We had to pull up part of the vinyl flooring to find out what was underneath it (plywood on top of hardwood. Why would anyone put plywood on top of hardwood? For the same reason the former owners of our house covered all the panel-doors with veneer: to surgically remove all charm. That’s our theory, anyway). Once we knew what was under the vinyl, we had to choose the appliances, since their dimensions directly affect the layout of the cabinets.  Choose but not order, lest they show up weeks before everything else. Read More »

Very funny but not kind (but not vicious either) review of Jumper (the movie) from New Zealand.

Idea Man: But in Rome he discovers that he isn’t the only Jumper in the world. And he further discovers that there are people whose mission in life is to kill Jumpers. They are called Paladins.

Money Man: Weren’t Paladins medieval knights?

Idea Man: Yes.

Money Man: Why do Paladins want to kill Jumpers?

Idea Man: That is not explained.

Money Man: How do people become Paladins?

Idea Man: That is not explained.

Money Man: Do Paladins look like medieval knights?

Idea Man: No they look like Americans. The principal Paladin is a black man with white hair. He has hi-tech devices for hunting Jumpers with, but when he catches one he stabs it to death with a low-tech hunting knife.

Money Man: Why does he do that?

Read the whole thing here.

Jumper exceeded $85 million in worldwide gross this weekend. Which is the published production cost for the movie.

Good Ol’ BoxOfficeMojo

I have no idea what the production company considers enough income from the movie to trigger serious consideration of sequel, tv show, etc. Nor how creative the accounting was, nor how much they spent on publicity and other ancillary costs.

It may or may not meet their expectations and hopes, but it can in no way be considered a flop.

Religious belief has always been a painful subject for me, sometimes quite literally. I like to think that my beliefs are grounded in rationality, but the end of my belief in a present and attentive deity ended abruptly and for entirely emotional reasons.

When I was eleven years old, I was helping my Dad lay down stripes in a parking lot, a fun and profitable side-business that he maintained for many years. We were in downtown Houston, and I have a clear snapshot memory of this.

I was standing at the edge of the parking lot when a lost baby bird wandered out into the street. I had taken a couple of steps to retrieve it, when a car flashed by, and there was suddenly only a messy brown splatter where a second before had been an innocent infant life.

At that exact moment I decided that, if there was a God, and he actively made the universe run, the way I had been told he did, he wasn’t a guy I wanted to hang out with. I can still remember how I thought that, if God had a purpose for that brief life and death, I didn’t want to fathom it. Maybe it was to test my belief in an infinitely-powerful and infinitely-loving being. If so, I failed the test.

I already understood that things die. It wasn’t the first time that I’d seen that. But the utter callous meaninglessness of this particular tiny death also killed the Christian God for me, because He was all about meaning. It was an instant conversion to an unpleasant Existentialism.

I mentioned my apostasy to a couple of people at West University Elementary in the following days, and got beaten up a couple of times by small gangs of pre-adolescent boys as a reward.

As I got older, I continued to be surrounded by hard and soft Christianity, and some occasional Judaism. I couldn’t respond to the emotional appeals, and any attempts at logical argument in favor of the existence of an involved God simply fell apart under even the most cursory examination. I did try to follow the reasoning presented to me, because it would be important if there was an underlying purpose to everything.

But the arguments always boiled down, sooner or later to: My religion must be true, even though wrong-headed people interpret the details differently than I do, because our Holy Book says it’s true. And our Holy Book is unquestionably the word of God, so it must be true. Completely circular logic.

So, let’s continue to talk about emotion rather than logic. Many people find comfort in their religious belief. They make what is commonly called the Leap of Faith, and then they get to turn their attention to predicting which football team is going to win the Superbowl this year. It helps them cope with the on-going struggle that inevitably leads to the end of Superbowl predictions.

Me, I just deal with the struggle and the darkness as best I can — which isn’t always graceful or attractive. I can’t and won’t make the Leap of Faith, not because I’m too damn smart (though I am indeed too damn smart), but because it feels cowardly and dishonest. I decline to adopt a deep belief simply in order to be comforted. My universe is an uncaring, unmanageable enormity.

My mother tried to do some religion with me and my sister, briefly. Here’s my memory of it:

: Read More »

I saw Led Zeppelin play live two times. I think. Maybe three times. The one at the three-day Texas International Pop Festival in Lewisville, I don’t remember much, as there was a heavy acid rain that weekend. The other one was at the Dallas State Fair Coliseum.

They came on and rocked the house forever. They played an electric set of all of their recorded songs, as well as some from their upcoming album, took a break, then came back with another long acoustic set. No diva behavior at all, no shortened concert time. Just hard-working rockers giving everything they had.

Following their old-skool display of musical virtue in London in December, us elderly hippies impatiently await final word on what has been called the Second Coming. Robert Plant has been coy about his ability to commit to a Zep tour, as he has a hit album out with Allison Krause. It’s at #6 on Amazon today.

Here’s the stream of the full album, Raising Sand.

It’s a relatively Easy Listening album, but I like it. I’m especially fond of the darkness of ‘Trampled Rose’, and ‘Nothing’ is excellent heavy rock — though I wish they’d gotten Page in there for this track to Zep it up a little more. ‘Let Your Loss Be Your Lesson’ is a great toe-tapper.

Here’s the vid of the lead single, ‘Gone Gone Gone’:

:

:

It’s utterly charming, and, unless they’re both great actors as well as great musicians, they actually like each other a helluva lot.

…I figure that the boys are gonna have to do the tour sooner or later. Just to prove that you’re never to old to Rock and Roll.…

:

Since I wrote a piece about why I’m voting for Barack Obama in the primary two weeks ago, I’ve been thinking a lot about the persistent sexism in our culture.  When the feminist movement was in its second wave back in the ‘70s, I was in high school and college.  Despite what seemed to be big changes afoot, the attitudes toward women back then were still as entrenched as ever. 

Maureen and I grabbed breakfast the other morning and ended up talking about this.  We had both had the same experiences with weird male prejudice.  The first was being told by men — strangers and “friends” alike — to smile.  As in,  “You’d be so much prettier if you smiled.” 

To this day, I want to punch anyone who tells me I should smile.  To put it bluntly, maybe I don’t fucking feel like smiling. Why should I smile to satisfy you?  How dare you tell me how to feel?  Or that I should pretend to feel happy in order to satisfy you.

I suppose this doesn’t sound like a big thing, but upon closer scrutiny, it’s profoundly telling.  That these random men felt it was both their place and their right to tell women to “put on a happy face.”  As if women should walk around all day, grinning from ear to ear, in a perpetual state of compliant “happiness.”  The arrogance of those demands still staggers me to this day.

Read More »

I’ve lost track of the number of interviews I’ve give in the last two weeks.

There have been interviews over the phone, interviews via email, interviews in person around my kitchen table, in coffee shops, in radio studios, television interviews with and without bright lights. It’s not a huge number but it’s big enough I’ve lost track.

There was the interview that didn’t happen, an Irish Radio station that wanted me on their show at 10 in the morning. That is, three hours after midnight in the mountain west. They asked via email, I answered, they never replied and I thought it was off…until the phone rang at three in the morning. We spent the next 45 minutes trying to get their studio phone connected to mine (without success,) so the interview didn’t happen and I’m sitting up, wide awake at four in the bloody morning.

The U.K. radio interview that did work went well enough, but the line was so bad, and the dj’s accent was so pronounced, I had to ask him to repeat every question.

Fortunately, he wanted to record his interview so I didn’t have to get up at 3 in the morning. It was morning for me and afternoon for him.

So, in doing this, I finally figured out why they call it press.

It’s like ironing. You run the hot iron over and over the shirt until all the wrinkles are out of the material. Or, specifically, you answer the same questions over and over again untiil you feel like a broken record. (Note for the young: records are these things made of vinyl and if they got scratched badly enough, they tended to repeat the same track over and over again. Think of it as looping, done without intent.)

Maybe it’s just me. In any case, I’m sitting there every time going, “Is that my voice? Do I really sound like that?”

Is that the sound of a voice be pushed flat by a hot iron?

A press?

==

Addendum: The phenomenon I’m describing is really about my own failure to come up with sufficiently different answers to the same questions. I’m not irritated with the press. Publicity equals more book sales, a good thing.

As seen on BoingBoing.

My official Thursday post will be rather short again this week . . . but that’s only because I’m trying to put myself into Absorb rather than Expound mode. (I almost broke down and let Unca Buzzkill out of the shed, just so I could have a full-fledged post today. But when I approached the padlocked door about 9:00 AM this morning, I could hear him singing “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall,” and he was already into single digits. Best to let him be.)

So instead of going on at length, I’ll simply advise y’all to step outside, squint in the sunshine, take a deep breath, and listen to the Earth turn.

Just be sure to put on a helmet and flak jacket first.

My reason for wanting to stay quiet and pay attention today is simple: Here in Austin, Senator Hillary Clinton and Senator Barack Obama will begin a televised debate in just a few hours.

See, the Texas Democratic Presidential Primary is really gonna matter this time.  If one of the candidates wins big here on March 4, that candidate will probably win the nomination.  (Well, Ohio may have something to say about it too.)

Also, when the General Election rolls around in November, there’s no question that Texas will go to the Republican candidate. It’s a done deal.

So that means, since I’m a Democrat, the March 4 Primary is my one shot to make my Presidential vote count.

We don’t have cable or satellite TV here at Casa Ramrod, but no worries. I’ll be watching the debate over the Web at CNN.com. (Although the debate is being held less than twenty miles from my house, attending in person wasn’t an option. In fact, I and many others are none too happy with the honchos of the Texas Democratic Party . . . or whoever the heck was in charge of puttin’ on this particular rodeo. Austin American-Statesman columnist John Kelso explains.)

Now, I must confess that I really don’t expect either Senator Obama or Senator Clinton to say anything tonight that will surprise me or change my mind. And yes, I’m already pretty darn sure which one will be getting my vote on March 4.

But expectations can be overcome. And “pretty darn sure” doesn’t mean “positive.”

So now I’m just going to shut up and listen.

Wish me luck, y’all.

While I was off in Texas my house was apparently bombed by the Combine with a headcrab rocket.

Read More »

From XKCD.COM entitled “How It Works”

(And the point I’m making is NOT that girls suck in math.)