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Surprise. [Jul. 24th, 2008|10:26 am]
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guess what showed up last night )
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Bad journalism [Jul. 22nd, 2008|06:27 pm]
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It's not just for the tabloids anymore.

I was listening to a piece on All Things Considered this afternoon and was once again struck by sensationalism in mainstream journalism. I've seen the same thing on 60 Minutes too. There just don't seem to be standards anymore.
The ATC story was interviewing a Miami newspaper reporter who is running a series in the Miami Herald about people with criminal records being given licenses to give loans in Florida. Toward the end of the story, they finally ask the reporter if there's any evidence that the people with criminal records were more likely to do anything wrong than those without. The reporter responds that that is a good question--but he doesn't know the answer.

If he doesn't know the answer to that question, how is this a legitimate story? It isn't. It is taking something that sounds bad and playing off people's fears and prejudices. The very shit that bad journalism is made of.
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My morals, let me impose them on you. [Jul. 16th, 2008|01:21 pm]
Thanks to [info]rm for the heads up.

Contraception is abortion?
http://www.rhrealitycheck.org/blog/2008/07/15/hhs-moves-define-contraception-abortion
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I think I'm PMSing [Jul. 12th, 2008|01:22 pm]
Feeling way too emotional today. Want to overreact to everything.

Must avoid Dumbo at all costs!
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Because EVERYBODY on the WHOLE INTERWEBZ has already done this...I feel so lonely [Jul. 11th, 2008|03:19 pm]
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Here's Entertainment Weekly's list of the top movies of the last 25 years. Go through their list and BOLD the ones you own on video or DVD, italicize the ones you've seen, and put an asterisk next to those you'd like to see someday.

Really, why click this? )
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Presidential campaigns make my head hurt [Jul. 9th, 2008|05:06 pm]
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Almost nothing changes. At least it seems that way during campaigning season. Everything is chopped down into the same old sound bites. Nothing seems to have been learned. Same shit, same spoon, and apparently people are eating it up once again.

Flip-flopping.

For the love of God they're on about that crap again. You would think after 8 years of an administration that clung doggedly to ideas long proven foolish at best, we'd be at least a little more accepting of someone realigning themselves based on new information.

Granted, no one likes a leader with no resolve at all. And we all get tired of pandering. But one politician accusing another of saying different things to different people at different times is like one cat accusing another of crapping in a box. It's just what they do.
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My brain is too small [Jul. 8th, 2008|10:58 am]
When I joined LJ I was incensed by the ridiculously complex requirements for a password. My bank and credit cards didn't even require such craziness. Well, they're now working toward it.

Already weary of trying to keep all my usernames and passwords organized, this is mighty disheartening. Longer and more arcane passwords, different questions not always as obviously answered as they might have intended, it is all becoming too freaking complicated.

And is it all really more secure? I can't possibly keep all this crap in my head so I have to keep it in physical form and handy. If this trend continues I'm going to drown in all this crap.

Anyone tried one of those programs to store all your passwords? I keep imagining that breaking down and me losing everything. But it seems like it is becoming a necessity.
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Trip Post 3 [Jul. 3rd, 2008|07:07 pm]
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If you're just tuning in, here is post 1 and post 2 (and post 2 part 2 the panoramic pic).

Story and lots of pics )
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Another opportunity to become less popular! [Jun. 26th, 2008|05:29 pm]
I think the US supreme court made (somewhat unusually of late) the right decision in regards to the Washington DC gun law.

While the decision does favor my libertarian bent and I agree with it on that basis, I was struck by something I read at CNN.com:

"There were 143 gun-related murders in Washington last year, compared with 135 in 1976, when the handgun ban was enacted."

A little searching led me to these data, which report the population of Washington at 702,000 in 1976 and 581,530 in 2005 (the last year shown). It certainly doesn't look like the handgun ban had any positive effect on gun-related murders.

I have a bit of a pet peeve with this sort of thing--laws that curtail the rights and freedoms of otherwise innocent citizens without even significantly (or at all) achieving their goals. Politicians like these sorts of laws because they're flashy and make headlines--they seem "tough." But often, it seems to me, they crop up around divisive issues like guns. Lawmakers on both sides of these issues tend to take extreme positions and propose sweeping legislation in line with the extreme positions of the advocates who support them. And easily lost is the question of effectiveness.

And not just overall effectiveness, but "efficiency." I believe, and I hope that most would agree with me, that the best law is one that achieves the greatest effectiveness with the least hardship to innocent citizens. I would call a law that met those criteria efficient.

Unfortunately, such laws don't necessarily garner the headlines politicians love and seldom please advocates of one cause or another. And really, while people notice laws that bring inconvenience or hassle to themselves, they rarely bother to notice or care when such trouble is brought on others. And from what I've seen being in a political party often means shoveling inconvenience, cost, harm, hassle, etc. onto those who vote for the other party.

And so it is that I find myself looking to the supreme court to reign in at least the most egregious of such laws, which restrict the rights and liberties of the citizenry. Unfortunately, the politicization of the court has resulted in many very disappointing decisions for me (eminent domain, physician assisted suicide, drugs, etc.). So perhaps it is with more happiness than I should have that I greet this decision--and wish the court sided with personal liberty more often.
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Trip Post 2-2 [Jun. 25th, 2008|06:27 pm]
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A wide pic separate for better formatting. )
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Trip Post 2 [Jun. 25th, 2008|05:36 pm]
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Story and lots of pics. )
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Trip Post 1 [Jun. 22nd, 2008|06:34 pm]
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Damn, sorry, pics and story under the cut )
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Home again [Jun. 21st, 2008|04:59 pm]
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We got back last night--our plane delayed by an hour again. But considering the state of the airlines today, not bad. Right now trying to get adjusted to being back. Organizing pics for some posts to come.

A really great trip.
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quicker post [Jun. 20th, 2008|02:12 am]
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In Hollywood on Sunset in a passable motel. Will be flying back tomorrow. Again tired.
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Quick road post [Jun. 17th, 2008|01:22 am]
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Finally managed to put a bit of time and an internet connection together. We're in the Motel Trees in Klamath California for the night. Across the road is purportedly the largest Paul Bunyan in the world.

Below is a random pic from Saturday driving around the Olympic Peninsula.
A little stream along the road. )
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S---T---I---L---L---------N---O----------D---S---L [Jun. 12th, 2008|05:21 pm]
Dialing up to say the last vote for LJ Idol has less than two hours left. I managed to check in and my personal fave, tulip_in_yellow is in second. So if you want to change history, or uh, alter the universe, or um, click a box and hit a button, you can go here and do that.

Then it will be all over!

There's access to their final entries as well as their entries from the entire season there too!
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Arrrrrrrg! [Jun. 11th, 2008|03:58 pm]
My DSL has crapped out.
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It may actually happen [Jun. 10th, 2008|12:23 pm]
Trying here to get everything organized for our trip. For those who don't know, we're flying to Seattle Friday and driving down the coast. So we'll be seeing lots of the Pacific and redwoods and such. Hope to take lots of pics for your later perusal.
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Thoughts [Jun. 8th, 2008|02:51 pm]
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Ya know, I've got a cynical, snarky streak a mile wide. I can find the shit in the best pie. And the truth is I've rained on quite a few parades in my time. But I realized somewhere along the line that it never accomplishes much other than multiplying unhappiness. It is certainly tempting to try to make everyone as miserable as oneself. But like so many things, it is a child's game--even when you dress it up in a life-weary guise or a mod style.

I'll probably always struggle with it. Or maybe I can find a way to fill the holes in myself that drive me to such things. And I hope the many people with the same problems can find a way to combat them within themselves.

There is a blurry and difficult line between being cruel to be kind and just being cruel. Too often we find vaguely noble excuses for cruelty when really all we want to do is satisfy the sadist in ourselves.
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LJ Idol home game [May. 30th, 2008|05:58 pm]
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The remaining four [info]therealljidol contestants are writing the gauntlet. Those not competing have been encouraged to do "home game" entries. One of the topics is "do over" a chance to revisit a past week's topic. I actually wrote this back in week 15 when the alternate topic was a "Harlequin romance with zombies." I went with the main topic at the time. This isn't exactly "Harlequin" but, well, here it is:



Jean-Marie was by far the most handsome man in the village. The women often shot glances, and some just stared as his tall frame worked the field. Watching his muscles slide under his glistening skin. They would shiver a little when his baritone laugh echoed through the streets in the evenings.

Of course, he knew this. He didn't need to stop and stretch as often as he did. And he laughed often, even at James' poor jokes. And so it was that when he was stricken and his health suddenly failed, “vanity” was whispered with the other rumors. It was said he had taken to bed, listless and weak. “Ain't no man so pretty God won't curse him!” was heard often through the village.

A week to the day after he had disappeared from the field, word went round that he was dead. Cut down like the cane in his prime. Some scoffed, some wept when he was buried, the priest showering blessings. Many a trinket was slyly left by careful women with darting eyes.

Three days had passed since the burial and a thick fog kept the people indoors. Pegu wasn't much remembered. He wasn't handsome or strong like Jean-Marie; not wealthy or social. He had no teeth and was lame, so no one paid him any more mind in death than they had in life. Almost no one.

He quietly dug shovel after shovel. Like a machine, his pace was unrelenting as Claire sat on a nearby stump, smoking a pipe. Her eyes were intent in her otherwise passive face. Thick wild locks of hair surrounded her face as the smoke curled round her and merged with the fog. When she heard the shovel hit wood she stood, “Bring it, Pegu. I'll be waiting.”

Claire's small shack stood away for the village. Everyone respected her power, and many had used it—for a price—but no one wanted to live near her. Inside hundreds of candles burned, the flames caught by bottle and jar. Powders and liquids, pastes and ointments; bark and leaf, skin and entrails. They filled every shelf lining the room and spilled onto the altar opposite the door.

Claire knelt before this ancient and bloodstained shrine slowly moving the pestle as she hummed a tune. Her smooth shoulders rocked under her shawl as she ground in unison with the rhythm. She did not stop but smiled as the scraping sound faintly began and came closer. “Put him on the floor in the circle, Pegu. Then you will sleep.”

As Pegu's steps faded around the corner she suddenly arose and whirled about, mortar in hand, beads and dress a flash of many colors as her shawl fell about her feet. Her laugh was rich and long, then she slowly knelt again, her knees to either side of the dead man's head as she cooed, “Jean-Marie, Jean-Marie, Jean-Marie.”

Her hand traced the contours of his face as she sighed, “So long, I have waited. When your mother came to me thick with child, I did not refuse her. 'Please, Mama, please!' she cried. 'My husband ... he is so ugly ... I fear for my child!'

'You want beauty for your child?'
'Yes, Mama. More than anything ... I want the most beautiful child. I have saved for this, see!'
She laid gold and jewels before me.
'I will take this as promise of payment,' I told her, 'but I will collect the balance in time.'

And now that time has come!” Claire pulled down her bodice and nestled in the cleave of her opulent breasts was a large crimson gem that caught fire in the light. She leaned over and the gem fell forward and dangled on it's fine chain just above his full lips. She opened his mouth and let the pendant slowly slide in.

Commence,” she shouted, and his mouth snapped shut as she sprung up, the necklace snapping from about her neck. The song she'd been humming became a chant as she danced and writhed about his body. Like dripping honey, her dress seemed to melt off her body and her skin glistened and sparkled as the flames bowed and swayed with her. Distant drums echoed through the forest, rooted in the song and movement of her body. Faster and faster as the smoke swirled and gathered, the beat, the heat, the song rose in crescendo, her skin tingling and one with the night, a handful of powder from the mortar brought close to his face and she blew ...

As the last beat crashed his eyes flew open. The silence sudden and powerful was broken only by the call of a bird, high and clear but faint. And as that note descended, so did she.

Her round hips swayed as his tongue took up the rhythm. Lightly at first but stronger as the phantom of life filled him. She could feel it as the heat began to flow from him as sinew and muscle tensed and strained, power bursting from him and entering her like electricity wherever their bodies met.

His large hands drew up and slipped onto her sides matching her motion as they slid around her breasts, the intensity forcing her head back and a guttural moan from deep within her. Though all seemed silent the music was rising in her again, beaming from the place where her pleasure and his tongue danced, where his hands touched her body, drowning out her cries as wave after wave washed up her thighs and crashed into her body.

The beat was slow now, but deliberate. Sultry and smoldering with the shimmering threat of fire as she moved down his body. She felt his chest as it expanded under her hands and breasts with each breath, an almost subsonic sound coming from him, louder as she descended.

She felt the pulse of his heart in her hand as she murmured, “Erzulie, you have outdone yourself with this man.” She marveled at this sculpture of the Goddess as her tongue explored in adoration. She would know this arch, each vein, the crest of head so she could match each sensation she felt with the memory. The power, now channeled into her flowed forth and she felt as his muscles tense and his taught hips could not help but leave the floor, his strong hands straining to lightly cup her face. His breathing became ragged and she lifted herself above him and drank the anticipation as she ever so slowly lowered herself, her eyes locked on his, savoring the wildness he couldn't hide.

At the touch, neither could contain their breath or the sound as the music leaped again and engulfed her as she engulfed him. And the sensation and the memory fused and burst forth, covering her body and he was inside her and all around her and no nerve was free of the song and the rhythm and the touch as she moved and slid, her mind consumed with the physical.

She moved forward and turned and felt the Earth beneath her, pleasure seeping in like roots as the softness of her legs met the hardness of his and they intertwined, forcing herself down to meet his thrust with each beat. He felt like a force of nature, something divine and ancient with barely enough control to keep from destroying them both.

And as she screamed a bottle on the altar toppled and the wine splashed down and each drop that touched her exploded as her body flashed forth and she was drowned and lost as her arms and legs melded into him and they were the center, aglow and aloud ...



... Pegu stood in the doorway looking at the cold, lifeless bodies on the floor of the shack. A light of freedom was in his eyes as his smile showed gleaming teeth. He turned and walked away. The ghost of a limp faded and he interrupted his humming to speak to the air, “Tout est reglé*. Eh, Erzulie?”


*Everything is as it should be
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