Year of the Earth Rat

新年快樂!

Remy dit, “Gung hay fat choy, mes amis!”

Why I can't discuss politics with anyone

I'm getting a little sick of this.

I understand there are a number of my friends with whom I cannot discuss politics as my position on the Bush White House is counter to theirs. This means discussion can't be rational. (Personally, I believe those who swear to uphold and defend the Constitution of the United States are required thereafter to do so. But, hey.)

I also can't discuss the merits (or lack thereof) of the field of Republican candidates with Republicans as I'm not on the political right in my leanings, I know how scientific method works and how it applies to the theory of evolution, and I don't think Reagan was the greatest president ever. Fine.

Yet I can't even discuss the Democratic candidates with Democrats. Why? Because it's not about policy, it's not about platforms, it's not about past actions. It's about a black man of 46 running against a white Boomer woman.

If I point out that it's racist to vote for a person simply because they're black, I'm an asshole. If I point out it's misogynist to vote for a person simply because they're female, I'm an asshole. If I point out that insulting someone because of their age is retarded, I'm an asshole. If I point out that ranting diatribes against all comers who aren't of the exact mindset as the ranter don't actually make a positive argument for a candidate, I'm an asshole.

I'm tired of being dismissed just because I want to discuss the issues on the table, education, health care, the wars (there's one in Afghanistan, too), the environment, our nation's ability to react to natural and man-made disasters, our natonal debt, the economy, rather than the gender, age, race or personality of the candidates. I don't give a shit how much someone does or does not spend on their hair, their house, their car, their clothes. I don't give a shit if I'd want to have a beer with them, or if they're sexually attractive. I'm looking for a President of the United States, damn it, not an American Idol or a senior class president.

This is just another reason for me to hate humanity. People suck. Suck hard. All they do is reinforce my growing mysanthropic tendencies with their irrational jerkiness.

They'd do themselves no end of good to watch C-SPAN more and listen to news bites and pundits less.

If this is true, it is most awesome

Adam Baldwin - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia:

Baldwin has a role as a voice actor in the Xbox 360 game Halo 3. He voices a marine in the game. He is joined in this capacity by former Firefly colleagues Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk. The personality each of these actors are given in the game match those from their characters in Firefly. At several points in the game he is heard to shout "Have a taste of Vera!", a direct reference to his gun in the show. The line "sure would be nice if we had some grenades," from the movie Serenity, also appears.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve

Some of my relatives have pretensions about not watching the football games. Even when Abraham Lincoln, who first declared Thanksgiving a federal holiday, watched the football that day, only he called it the Civil War. What was he supposed to do, make conversation with Samuel P. Chase? That would have been cruel and inhuman, but then that's what Thanksgiving is all about.

-Steven Goldman on watching football on Thanksgiving

I always think I'm going to enjoy Thanksgiving more than I actually do. At least my family knows how to make a nice, yummy, juicy turkey, unlike, apparently, every other white person's family out there.

~ ~  ~  ~  ~  ~ ~
That said, I enjoy listening to the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra play Strauss's waltzes far more than I probably should. There're probably few sights stranger than me dancing waltzes and polkas in my office chair seat.

Accidental patterns

I read four books over the long weekend (we get Veteran's Day off here), and just finished a fifth this morning (finishing it off made me late to work).

For some reason, the books fell into the following two categories (excluding the third, which was read super-fast in order to remind me what the heck had happened previously in the series):

Books One and Two:
Magic Fair Maiden Rescues Knight
Young women treated by condescending yet otherwise intelligent, charming and handsome men as unable to cope with dangerous situation due to their being female wind up rescuing the condescending males through understanding and use of magic/magic rituals.

Books Four and Five:
Bad Husband Attempts To Be Good Father
Early-thirty-something father copes with failed relationship with still-loved ex-wife and attempts to establish/maintain relationship with child resulting from failed marriage while considering his place in his family (natural and/or adopted)/society.

They were all five of them fantasy novels, the first two for young adults, and the last three for adults. Please note that the young women of the first set wind up marrying/otherwise being with the formerly-vaguely-misogynist-now-enlightened men, as that's apparently how it needs to happen in this trope. I have to admit that, while it is an over-used ending, it's an immensely satisfying one.

My favorite is still the one from the Harry Potter series: Young man goes through spiritual refinement in order to become good father. I could go on about alchemy and the whole hero's journey turning out to be the transformation of an average boy into a good father, but I'm at work and you'd probably find it boring. Still, hooray for J.K. Rowling!

This accidental set of pairs leaves me wondering what I should read next, as it seems I should be careful into what themes/memes/tropes I now dip my brain. I should probably start doing some more heavy lifting (Umberto Eco or something), but I'm lazy and am in the mood for lighter fare.

Falling in love

I was charmed by Pushing Daisies from the start of the first episode.

I swooned when they actually used the copious musical theater talents of Ms. Kristen Chenoweth when, a couple of weeks ago, they had her sing "Hopelessly Devoted To You" to herself while (mostly) alone in the pie shop.

Last night while watching the beginning of this week's episode, it occured to me, idle thought, that the show's producers, writers and directors had a real opportunity what with Ms. Chenoweth's character visiting the character played by Ms. Ellen Greene, another musical theater talent (she was the original Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors and has one hell of a set of pipes).

I then got goosebumps when, near the half-hour mark, Chenoweth started paraphrasing lines from They Might Be Giant's "Birdhouse in Your Soul," which is one of my favorite songs by the geektastic duo from Brooklyn.

And finally, I absolutely fell in love with Pushing Daisies, little hearts dancing around morphing into one giant heart surrounding all, when they came back from commercial to Chenoweth and Greene singing a duet of an abbreviated version of "BiYS."

Hooray for ABC picking up the whole season. Hooray, hooray, hooray!

A quiz? Why?Because it's Calvin & Hobbes, that's why.

Your Score: A Bit Of Both

You are 40% Calvin and 60% Hobbes

Calvin & Hobbes, like a scruffy yin and yang, are in perfect balance within you. Like Calvin, you're weird, a bit insecure, and can be a trouble-maker. But like Hobbes, you're down to earth and sensitive. It's a risk to say it here, after just a ten question test, but I'll bet you're smarter than most. Both Calvin and Hobbes are crafty, clever characters, and any one made from equal parts of each is a force to be reckoned with.

Link: The Calvin Or Hobbes Test written by gwendolynbooks on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Brain exercises for charity

Angela posted the following on her Facebook:

Vocabulary Game That's For Charity

All -
I found this novel game as it serves both giver and the recipient. Learn new words and for each correct answer logged they will donate rice for it.

Play. Learn. Feed.

http://www.freerice.com/index.php

-Ang

Hooray for feeding your brain and other's bellies at the same time!

...!

I think I just fell in love with an item of clothing....

Figaro qua, Figaro la, Figaro qua, Figaro la, Figaro su, Figaro giù, Figaro su, Figaro giù

Remember Ask Jeeves? Unfortunately, our favorite manservant was lost on one of the byways of the internet superhighway a few years back (Ask.com is not half as useful for those of us who think in sentences). However, if you have questions about opera and don’t know where to turn, another fictional nigh-omniscient has stepped forward into the vast and spindly Web to answer all: Ask Figaro.

Also of note, the pretty pictures painted of the heroines of the Met’s 2006-07 season.

I cannot begin to tell you how much I am looking forward to the HD theater transmissions of the 2007-08 season. I'm absolutely hooked.

And on Friday, there was a fictional character

You will never beat a ninja at a sword fight, one on one. When the Ninja draws his sword, fire your taser™. A well placed taser™ will take out even the most deadly of ninjas.

-a selection from Dwight K. Shrute on ninja-attack preparedness

All zeh writerz iz on teh LJ

Today's title is brought to you by the interweb and its funky-ass brand of pseudo-English.

So, la raison de poster: Today, rather than doing work I've been putting off for three days, I thought I'd check out Doris Egan's LiveJournal, as she generally posts something every three months or so, and it'd been even longer than that since I'd read her LJ.

Well, lo and behold, she had posted (back in July; I'm a laggard), and sweet jumpin' Jesus! She wrote about her books!

Why is the Good Lord jumpin', you ask? Because of this bit of parenthetical "spolier"y goodness on a possible-potential-probably-but-not-really fourth book in her Ivory series:

I find myself tempted to sprinkle a few spoilers for the fourth Ivory book; does it count as spoilers if the book is hypothetical? No? Then I can tell you that it would open several years later; that Ran and Theodora have two children, one adopted and one biological -- I know! -- and that Stereth is ready to initiate his coup and take over the throne. Which neither of our heroes wants to be involved with, and probably wouldn't be involved with, if only Kylla hadn't -- okay, that part I probably should keep to myself. You never know.

This post, overall, made me inordinately happy for all it was pretty much bad news for Ms. Egan the Novelist's fans. Possible reasons for my fangirl glee:

• The Writer's Guild strike probably will happen, so, yes, she will be writing something non-television-related, so, yay.
• This quote:

  If you visit Los Angeles and see the occasional group of zombies blinking at the light and shuffling blankly toward a parking lot? Those are television writers. Don't be put off; simply give them dark glasses and a soft place to nap for an hour, and they will be as newborn kittens in your hands.

While I do loves me some House, I'd really, really, really like Ms. Egan to get back on her novel-writing horse and ride, ride, ride, even if I never do find out what happens to Tal. *sigh*

Hee!

The Firefly novel is called My Own Kind of Freedom. The nickname is, of course, My Own Kind of Wheadon.

-novelist Steven K. Brust on his Firefly fanfic

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R.I.P.

A note of advice to jerks

If you are going to be rude to someone, either out-right or using passive aggression, it behooves you to use the language you are using in your jerk-fit appropriately. For one thing, the victim of your jerkiness might not understand what the hell you're saying. For another, the victim might be tempted to mock the living shit out of you for your horrible mangling of English/French/Spanish/Esperanto instead of take the offense your jerk-fit is supposed to give.

'Cause being an English 'tard just turns you into an unimportant ass.

A note on apostrophes in the possessive

Everyone knows how to create the possessive using the apostrophe, right?

If the apple belongs to John, it's John's apple. If the apples belong to the teachers, they are the teachers' apples. When the possessor is singular, the possessive is created by adding an apostrophe then an S, but if it is plural, the apostrophe is added after the pluralizing S. Simple, easy, everyone knows that. "What do you think we are, Sugar Kat?" I can hear you saying to your monitor. "Retarded? 'Cause we're not."

I know you're not "retarded," Dear Reader. However, I have a question for you. How does one create the possessive using an apostrophe when the possessor is singular but ends in an S? How does one write the apple of Mr. Thompkins using the possessive apostrophe?

National magazines and highly-respected newspapers are getting the answer to that question wrong, which is why I feel compelled to write this.

A lot of people for whom English is their primary language would claim that one creates the possessive form with a singular, S-ending possessor the same way one would with a plural, by simply putting the apostrophe after the S. When told the apple belongs to Mr. Thompkins, they write "Mr. Thompkins' apple." They are wrong.

I know this because my mother's maiden name ends in an S and, in her day, kids were actually taught grammar in grammar school. (How I wish I was taught the elements in elementary school, but no, I had to wait until high school. Man, this country's backwards when it comes to when kids should be taught what.) She passed her knowledge of the use of the possessive apostrophe on to me. Now I pass it on the the English-speaking world at large, which has been pissing me off lately with its ignorance of the English language. (Grr!)

If you have a possessor which is singular yet ends in an S, you treat it as you would any other singular possessor, by adding the apostrophe and then the S. Therefore, if the apple belongs to Mr. Thompkins, it is Mr. Thompkins's apple.

So, Entertainment Weekly, if the mirror belonged to Sirius, it would not have been Sirius' mirror, unless you were somehow actually writing about a multiple of whatever the hell Siriu might be which happened to own the same mirror. No, what you should have written, or what your apparently very lax editor should have corrected it to when you made your error, you dim-witted hack, was Sirius's mirror. Sirius is not a multiple, but one character. And your entire magazine is staffed by English-language 'tards.

Proof
As for proof of this, please take out your copy of Strunk & White, The Elements of Style. In the fourth edition, the rules on possessive singular of nouns is on page 1. If you don't have a copy at hand, go and buy one. It really should be required reading for anyone who wishes to write in English. Also, it's inexpensive, so it's not like buying some other grammar and style books, which can put you back $20 to $40. However, if you're just looking for the rule, Bartleby to the rescue: They have posted William Strunk, Jr.'s original book upon which White expounded and expanded. The page you can find the illustration of the proper use of possessive apotrophes is here. Please note the first two samples end in S (Charles, Burns) and still have the apostrophe S to form the possessive.

So long, John

Like I mentioned in a previous post, it seems like my mom and I are the only two people in America who liked HBO's new David Milch series, John from Cincinnati, which just wrapped up its first ten-episode season this past Sunday. In fact, not only did we like it, but as the series went along, introducing bizarre, deeply imperfect yet increasingly endearing characters (more often than not played by former residents of the much-lamented Deadwood; we got to be rather eager for new characters in hopes that another former Deadwoodian would show), who spoke mono- and dialogues in an elevated and profanity-laced speech pattern reminiscent of the mesmerizing cadences of that Old West town (as if the residents of and visitors to IB were the decendents of the whores and criminals of Milch's other HBO creation), and presenting ideas which were neither clear nor explained and about which we theorized and expounded like graduate students in a course on Albee plays, we really got to loving it. Also, best opening credits song, period, since The Sopranos first aired in January, 1999. John from Cincinnati is strange and weird and nonlinear, which are all things which throw off most boob tube viewers, who would rather watch unchallenging televised mental diarrhea like Big Brother 8 (why, Lord, why? ::eyes bleed::), but which my mom and I eat up like chocolate-covered hand-made ice cream.

Now I find out Mom and I may very well have been the only people who liked the show who weren't actually involved in shooting it, as HBO has cancelled the series, not renewing for a second season of an hour-long show for the first time in its original programming history.

For fuck's sake, HBO, you gave that piece of shit Arli$$ seemingly innumerable and unending seasons. Why stop John when it's hitting its weird-ass stride?

Why? Because they are jerks and television critics are jerks and America is just too fucking stupid. I hate you, World.

We'll miss you, John.

...

When I saw this on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, I actually became physically ill. Bile, headache, etc. I have difficulty finding words to describe my speechless, drop-jawed...horror? Anger? Dismay? Frustration? Horangedistration? Gobsmacked would be a good word, except that I don't think it's negative enough.

All right, here's a story of pure fiction that might illustrate my indescribable feelings at the moment I watched this. Imagine you're at the display of the Constitution and Declaration of Independence looking at the two foundation documents of our nation with other American tourists, foreign tourists, and wounded American veterans visiting from the VA hospital. VP Cheney strides in, has Secret Service smash open both cases, then takes out both documents, tears them to hand-sized pieces, wipes his poop-covered arse with the pieces, shoves these poo-papers in the mouths of the wounded vets, knocks the vets out of their wheelchairs and off of their crutches to the floor, then has Secret Service kick the vets in the face. Not that Cheney'd actually, physically do that. I can't imagine anyone would actually be that horrible. But if he did and I were standing there, watching it, unable to stop any of it from happening, that feeling I'd have during the whole thing might kind of equal how I felt when I watched this. Except in the hypothetical and completely fictional case, I might actually vomit instead of just feeling like I might, sob with despair, go home, write a suicide note, then jump off a bridge.

Protest? Try to stop it? Why? No one listens. No one cares. Especially not the executive branch. They're like the phone company in the old SNL sketches in the 1970s: "We don't care; we don't have to: We're the executive branch."

No one cares. Except for a frustrated, angry, and deeply saddened Jon Stewart. But all he can do is make a funny TV show while New Rome burns.

Woe is we.

I ♥ Americayet another regionalist rant by ltsk

BBC | Americas | Washington diary: Land of ideas

The US is a nation built not on ethnicity, not on religion, not even on history but on an idea.

Remembering the fires and riots in the suburbs of Paris (and other European cities) nearly two years ago and thinking about the anger French President Sarkozy raises in some in France, I've been thinking about what's wrong with France (as a break from fretting over my motherland). It occured to me that the French need to change what it is to be French, as to the Germans what it is to be German, etc., etc. Frenchness can't just be an inbred set of genetic codes. Otherwise, there will always be people rioting in the streets.

"The poor will always be with you," so there's no need to add to the ranks of the disenfranchised be marking an entire portion of the country not of that country simply by virtue of their not having the "correct" genetic makeup. It's stupid and, honestly, just a continuation of the failed policy of colonization. Yes, yes, America is the Great Imperialist, even according to many here at home, but, honestly, we can't hold a candle to the awfulness of, say, Britian's colonial rule of the China, or what France did in Algeria. America is the child of Europe. We learned well, as you can see in some of our behavior in Iraq. But we, at least, are willing to say that someone from Iraq who becomes an American citizen is American, as are his children. Can't say the same of the French and Algerian immigrants.

The quote above, by a BBC reporter, a Brit, mind, and not some flag-waving FOX News toadie, is exactly what makes the US a country which, while deeply, deeply troubled, I believe will survive and flourish in the long run: This is a nation built upon ideas. Not on "whiteness" (in spite of what Lou Dobbs may think), not the Bible (in spite of what the Christian Right might think), but ideas: Ideas of human rights and equality, freedom and responsibility, potential and work.

The trouble is, the folks in charge right now--in the government, in business, the social leaders, too--don't understand that. Hopefully, we can change this. As Bill Clinton once said, and as Mr. Frei quotes in the linked article, "There is nothing wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America," so long as we remember what the US is really about and remember to fight for our ideas. Our ideals. Our great potential. Honestly, this is what makes us the greatest country in the world: We have potential that no other country has, because they are limited by their self-definitions, while we are a country based of the best ideals of humanity. Anyone who truly swears by these ideals, who carries them in their heart and mind, who is willing to die for them and, better yet, live by them, can call themselves American.

This is why I consider the Bush Government, the Christian Right, the Neocon movement, and many on the extreme right and left to be unAmerican: They do not live to or hold by the ideas which make the US the US, the ideas without which there would be no America. Their selfishness, their inability to see beyond their own agendas, their need to be right no matter what, cause them to act, at least, like they hate America. As a red-blooded American, I often find myself hating them for it.

I was going to forward this rant to my sister who lives in France, thinking she might be able to use this argument, or at least portions of it, the next time an in-law who's never been here mentions What Is Wrong With America. I decided against it, however, as I don't know if she can handle the thought of her little sister, at heart, being so pro-America.

Not pro current American foreign policy or even pro most of the national policies, but definitely, when you cut to the quick, to the core of what America is, yes, I'm a patriot. "American patriot," unfortunately, has been linked by both supporters of the current administration and some of their detractors with being pro-Bush. Why is it I can't be a patriotic American without being a supporter of policies which go directly against the ideas upon which America was founded? Must it not be the opposite? Must not those who would support leaders, national and local, whose policies are directly opposed to the ideas upon which our country was created and by which it is held together, be the unpatriotic ones?

I adore France, but it's deeply flawed. America is flawed, but I love it. Glass houses, anti-America Europeans. And, while America can learn a lot from the French medical system and the French abilities to talk about sex without having a hernia and drink alcohol in reasonable amounts and without the need to get piss-drunk, the French could learn from America about accepting those not like yourself and calling them fellow countrymen. Even and especially those with heavy accents.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité. Remember those France? You have national ideals, too. Do they only apply to the genetically French? Yes, America still has problems accepting whoever has been deemed the Other, but don't pretend you don't have problems like, and possibly worse than, ours.

Rising from the e-dead

Once upon a time, I spent lots of time on the interweb. Then I was temporarily employed. Then I was not. Then I was again. Now I post only to say, um, things have happened. A lot more has not. There's a reason I don't take time to post. Well, that, and the lack of readership. Dear Reader, you don't exist!

I am still temporarily employed. If you don't know where, guess. I'll reward points for accuracy and/or creativity. There may even be a prize!

I have been at this place since October 13, 2006. This is a long freakin time to be a temp, guldurnit. At least they're buying me pizza today. And there's a pretty good Indian/Pakistani restaurant next door. And there's a Starbucks a couple of blocks up the hill. Not that I can afford to buy food or coffee when I'm paid a couple dollars over minimum/hour. Arg.

Mom is no longer married to Dad. A lot of crap happened to lead to this dis-marital state. There is a lot of shit still flowing down the pipe, though. Bad, bad shit. I don't want to go into it further, as I don't have time to rant about my asshole father, mysogynists, women who enable them, lawyers, and the clusterfuck of it's-not-what-you-know-but-who-you-know-ness that is the Capital Region.

I should be getting back to work. Work which is leading me to knowing a hell of a lot more about patent prosecution and intellectual property protection that I will ever, ever need anywhere but here. Damn it. Work which also entails cleaning up the fuck-ups of the past fifteen or so years. It's weird to look at agreements and patent applications and think, I was in sixth grade that year, and then realize how fucking old that makes the patent/agreement. This makes me sad. Which is why I watch cartoons.

In other, fluffier news...

I think my mom and I may be the only two people in America who like HBO's new series, John from Cincinnati. I am mostly convinced that every critic from EW is smoking crack: they hate JfC but love, love, lurve American Idol, which I almost spelled American Idiot, which is how one would describe someone who actually likes the celebration of mediocrity that is AI. No one, naturally, cares about my opinion re television programming, except for my mother, who agrees with me.

Watching Flight of the Conchords makes me happy like eating ice cream shop ice cream from an in-shop-made waffle cone makes me happy. Huzzah for kiwis!

Where the hell did Creature Comforts go? Three weeks and it's gone? WTF, CBS?

Have yet to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. I'm the last person on earth who wanted to see the movie but hasn't who isn't living in a war zone or slum of some sort.

Go see Ratatouille. It is hilarious and breath-takingly animated and very well done. It also made me leave the theater, not just hungry for good French food, but wanting to cook. Yay, Brad Bird!