Daddy, there will be fishes and alligators at your law school!

I always like it when my birthday is the day after Memorial day weekend. And truthfully, I have always liked my birthday regardless of how mopey I get about it.

My freshman year of high school, my brother got tickets to the first major stadium show that I ever went to. It was Sugarcubes, PIL (Can you believe no one loves them enough to give them a good fan page? I suppose that's why he's Johnny Rotten), and New Order. This may not sound awesome to you, but then you'd be wrong.

When I turned 19, I flew Rick Lopez to Athens, Georgia. While I was there, I went to the 40 Watt and had a major epiphany which I forgot, even though I wrote an essay about it. I have a tendency to write an essay about myself on my birthday. I blame Mr. Ashman. Sorry I spelled your name incorrectly, Chuck.

When I was turned 21, I was in London. The end of term banquet was held in the refectory. I got to sit at the head table because I had been the editor of the newsletter. I received a pair of gold-colored dolphin cufflinks (which I still have) that remind me of So long and thanks for all the fish. Normally these dinners are an opportunity to get right snockered (that's a high-class faux-Englishly way of saying "very drunk") but I had to go back to my room and study for my final in Continental Philosophy. Nevertheless, I enjoyed listening to 120 very drunk students from all over the United Kingdom sing "Happy Birthday" to me.

These memorable events notwithstanding, every birthday since has been with Louren and for the last three years, Dakota. These have been happier, if less momentous. Sure, I have had barbecues. And I've waxed lyrical about how they should make a movie ripped from the headlines and inspired by true life events about bowling balls rampaging all over our city. But that's not the story that I tell myself.

Secretly, I have a story where the 7, 17, 49, 70, and 77 year-old William are at some sort of family gathering. The 7 year old William runs around all crazy as he is prone to do, and gets bored and is entertained by a very old man. The central passage is about the 17-year-old William getting unsolicited advice from the 49-year-old William. 17-year-old William is both incredulous and contemptuous of the nostalgic, mediocre family man. The story picks up again as the middle-aged William spends the next two decades unraveling the secret power behind the mystical nexus that brings together these different ages and does it only too late, to change anything, so he thinks. In fact, the slightly older William has sabotaged the effort because in his old age, he realizes that he does not want to change a thing. The 70 year old William is a bit bewildered by the enigmatic smile from his slightly older self until he is practically run over by a crazy young boy, whom the old man entertains. I never had a title for that story until Louren suggested "'You are old, father William,' the young man said,". Which I think is brilliant.

My point to all of this is that many people have told me that this is a new chapter in my life. It is and it isn't. For all the time and energy that I have put into my career, and for all the time and energy that I am about to put into school -- It's not the last word.

The Indy Factor

Trav once observed that I put huge stock in the role of individuals in History for shaping key events, as opposed to the "if there was a Hitler we would have created one" theory that I've always disparaged as total nonsense. But only recently did I realize that my view is actually influenced quite heavily by the young Indiana Jones chronicles.

My mom always hated this show for its historical inaccuracy (being a history teacher and all, its an understandable peeve) but I gave the show an "A+" for attempting to make history exciting. Therein is the base of my objection to Trav's observation: the narrative of history is not compelling if it is just dates and places. The people who made the choices that made the events are not fungible commodities; their personalities are not an asterisk. If we say it is, then we absolve all historical figures of responsibility (including present-day ones) and all that drives events are invisible social forces plus destiny. That's total nonsense.

By the way, Trav, I got your card today. Thanks!

R.I.P. Phish

Phish will tour for the last time.

Trav: That's Not a Canonical Rant and This is Why:

There are certain arguments that I've made over and over again for many years now. They are set pieces of monologue which I've recited and edited to such a degree that its really more a matter of giving me the right queue to hear me say it. The tone is irate and sarcastic but the canny "practiced many times" quality of the rant raises some doubt as to whether or not I even feel passionately about it anymore. Some of the canonical rants include:

If its a fact, I believe it.
This rant can be blamed on Dr. Stephen Tyler - the anth prof, not the Aerosmith singer. Normally I'd make a link to Aerosmith.com but you get the idea.

Why do people always say that Mussolini made the trains run on time because he really didn't.
This rant comes from Mr. Barrou my 8th grade history teacher. I think I spelled his name wrong.

The first computers where actually women who could operate adding machines
I think this is an episode of Nova that I adapted by interpreting that episode's spicy neo-factiods in a way that is probably a terrible misreading of what actually happened in history but is overall a much more compelling narrative about the evils of Information Technology. I normally launch this rant when someone tries to assert that Microsoft is evil and that some other information technology is good or that there was some sort of golden era of IT akin to the garden of Eden where all technologists were innocent and all technological pursuits were of benevolent origin; seeking only to enrich the greater good of universal enlightenment. And they all drove Mustangs or Pink Cadillacs with big fins. And they smoked pipes. And had great hair. And names like "Duke" and "Conrad." And they hung out with Astronauts. And arm-wrestled. And had amazing assistants that were demure with their hair in a bun and thick horn rimmed glasses, but remove the bobby pins and the glasses and . . . K A P O W ! ! ! . . .
super bombshell. And then the Red Baron and the legion of evil tried to steal the Statue of Liberty but the Information Technologist of America devised a devilishly clever operating system upon which they wrote a really killer app and Lady Libery was safe so the last real president (Eisenhower) came out and shook everyone's hand. "Thanks boys, keep up the good work" and Dad got home in time to fix little Jimmy's Flexible Flyer and Mom had a big turkey all ready. Well, that just didn't happen.

The three greatest villains of Western Civilization are the guy who wrote Three Musketeers, Aristotle, and Wagner
Actually, this more of an apocryphal rant since being dropped from the cannon of things about which I rant.

will's dramatization was true

it really did happen that way at lunch last week with bill.

TrueMajority

Yet another interesting thing that Ben put on his blog

Mostly I am interested in the really well done flash animation.

Maybe Texas (or Travis) have started to get to me, in that I did not have the knee-jerk "heck yeah" response that I thought I would have. While I do believe that our Military budget is astoundingly high and that with better financial management (and maybe some better international diplomacy) we could cut spending by 1/8, as Mr. Ice-Cream suggests. It hardly follows that we immediately spend that money for noble-sounding social program. For example, hows about we put some more money into mundane but necessary social programs like oh... Social Security we'll need about 3.7 Trillion dollars to feed that monster, so we might as well start to ante up.

Speaking of feeding the monster... We could hand that money over to The Office of Public Dept.

Why care about the debt?

$7.1 Trillion that we owe mostly to foreign governments as of yesterday - that's a big conflict of interest staring us down.

Too boring?

If we must use that money for noble-sounding social programs, it is hardly clear that Federal agencies are the best way to execute these social goals.

To whom would I give 50 billion dollars?

How about the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation? Bill Gates is a lunatic who demands result, just ask Dave. Why it was just this Tuesday when Dave was eating lunch with the big man just the other day when Dave nonchallantly said "Billy... Why can't you just chill out? Taco?"

To which Bill Gates replied, "Who gave you permission to eat, sleep, or go to the bathroom? Back into your code cubicle. Task manager! [clap, clap] Away with this peon!"

So... maybe that didn't actually happen, but you get the idea.

I can imagine Gates screaming at one of his program directors at his foundation, "I gave you 8 billion dollars to develop sustainable agriculture in Central Africa, its been a year and only 1% more arable land is being farmed... That's totally cruddy!"

Can you imagine American politics taking this sort of rhetorical tone?

International News Article | Reuters.com: "This is a pledge I have taken -- that if Sonia Gandhi is sworn in as PM then on one side there will be her swearing-in and on the other side, my resignation letter," outgoing BJP health minister Sushma Swaraj told reporters after meeting Kalam to protest against Gandhi becoming prime minister.
'I will stop wearing colorful clothes, I will wear only white sari, I will shave my hair, sleep on the floor.'
Outside Gandhi's home, angry Congress supporters burned an effigy of Swaraj. "

Let's try it:

"I swear to you, if John Kerry takes the oath of office as President of the United States, then that same day I will quit Congress and go back to my pest exterminator business", Majority Whip Tom DeLay told onlookers after overturning a barbeque pit in grief at his Sugar Land office.

"I will stop wearing expensive suites, I will wear only coveralls, grow a mullet, and sleep in the Van with the pesticides."

Outside Kerry's stately Massachusettes mansion, dumbstruck Democrats thanked Mr. DeLay and pledged to think of him whenever they saw roaches.

Okay now the other way:

"I swear to you, if George Bush is re-elected as President of the United States, then that same day I will go back to Massachusetts and get really drunk", said Senator Edward Kennedy

Outside of the Presidents stately Texas ranch, unimpressed White House chief-of-staff Andrew Card said, "Yeah... and?"

My point is

We should ammend the Constitution and elect Austrian-born Arnold Schwarzenegger as president. He would be "fantastic."

Canonical Rant - On the basis of funny impersonations

Impersonations are extremely not funny, neither in concept nor in practice. Despite this undeniable truth, comedians and neighbors will persist on doing them anyway. Normally they just make the impersonator look Foolish and racist but people keep doing them like puns or limericks but without the witty humor or complex patterns.

Why?

Because people laugh at impersonations regardless of quality. Its the surest example of "'A' for effort"

Based on this, I stopped putting effort into impersonations. In fact, the best impersonations sound exactly nothing like the person whom is being mimicked, but you are using your "kooky" voice or for the "I'm-so-Stephen-Wright-that-I-have-a-package-of-instant-water-but-don't-know-what-to-add-to-it-ba-bump-bump" crowd, your laconic voice.

The Canonical Example

Is from The Good Life, the highly unsuccessful show that launched the moderately successful career of DrewCarey and proved that just because you are the son of a semi-famous sociologist doesn't mean that everything you do for TV will mean that you will have great writing gigs (John Martin was also a writer for "Homeboys from Outer Space"), and it goes like this:

Sean Connery and Tom Jones Having Breakfast

"Hello Sean"

"Hello Tom"

"Would you pass the Orange Juice"

"Yes, of course"

Kill that MIDI, you fool.

Now that it is commonly accepted wisdom that MIDIs on web sites are totally cruddy, why does it still happen? I suppose that this is the web equivalent of putting ugly kitsch on your front lawn. Actually its more obnoxious. It is the equivalent of having the "Singing Fish" hung over the fireplace mantle, next to Granpa's ashes.

Actually, I am fairly grumpy about my computer making noises. Unless I am playing a video game or Musicmatch, I keep it on Mute. It annoys me that they don't have a Mute button on the keyboard. I should assign one of the f keys to this function as in "shut the f- up"

Speaking of f keys. If you develop software and f1 does anything besides pull up the help menu - then I curse you: May all your applications leak memory and may your semi-colon key always be sticky.

Barrier: A description of someone or something that is more Barry than something else.

He represents a barrier to progress.

I suggest you barry the hatchet, the barrier the better.

The obstacles are delicious and pleasing. They are straw barriers in my path to pleasure.

Barry Manilow, Barrier Bonds, Barriest White (can't get enough of your love.)

CSS2 Reference lists ok can anyone tell me why list-style-type isnt a value here? however across many other sites it is listed as an allowed value. list-style-type: inherit does not validate...

Louren and other people I know are totally frustrated at how T9 doesn't work as advertised. such that when you want to text somebody with a one word response: "Cool" you will be frustrated too see "coo" turn into "book" when you thumb the five. Why be frustrated? How about just make up your own cockney slang of t9 malpropism such that:

Good = Good, Goof, Gone, Home
Book = Book, cool, cook
Fiat Cold = Diet Coke
Bosnia = Cosmic

I felt very clever when I thought of this. But then I got the nagging suspicion that
somebody already thought of this.

I feel oddly relieved by this bosnia connection with this honey quirk but on matter i will just kick back with a fiat cold and let it in

I wonder if Vanilla Ice would have been viewed differently if he hadn't lied about being from Miami?

Guess what?

If I have previously invited you to be a team member, then you can post on my blog. Several of you have asked about why I don't allow comments to which I have said "Get your own blog"

Well I take that back. You can post on my blog. You just can't comment. That is to say, every post is a new post and even if you are commenting on a different post, its still a post.

In this spirit. I believe that I may rename the blog.

The Canonical rant against going vegetarian.

The Canonical rant against going vegetarian.

Perhaps the most despicable group that I can imagine are the lifestyle-choice vegetarians. Up front, let me distinguish this group from several other types of vegetarians.

I am not including people forced into vegetarianism by their doctors, a heart attack, acute psychological trauma caused by near-fatal food poisoning, or some such equivalent horrible experience. If after several years without meat, people in this situation become so retrained that they would not enjoy meat even if they could eat it again, that does not really count. This is just an adjustment to a bad situation.

Similarly, I am not including “palette” vegetarians. If some people are so fussy that they cannot find a cut of meat to enjoy, then I lump them in with a larger group: fussy eaters. I have found that fussy eaters turn out to be very fussy people. C.S. Lewis examines what’s wrong with this in The Screwtape Letters quite eloquently, so go read it.

I am also excluding the "I only eat what I kill" vegetarians. For sure, the way we process meat in the United States is less than ideal. If you care enough not to compromise the process, then don't. Organic ranchers, Sarah Newtwon, Longshoremen: I salute you.

Nor am I including cultural or religious vegetarians. There are those who have some sort of cosmic rationale based on faith or heritage that governs the way in which they should exist and operate within the universe; of which vegetarianism is an attribute rather than an end unto itself. These people are on a path and making sacrifices, like giving up meat, is part of their journey. I can respect that.

No. I am criticizing a phenomenon that I saw many individuals undergo, particularly in Hastings and at Rice. In this phenomenon, an otherwise normal person realizes that life is sad. All of the normal tricks for creating happiness are employed: buying new shoes, insulting losers, blaming it all on mother, getting drunk, etc. But none of these things seem to work. So, the otherwise normal person tries some introspection. On the one hand, this is uncomfortable since it requires actual thinking. On the other hand, this extremely self-indulgent, self-pitying activity comes naturally to this, so far, only venially vain person (so it’s bearable.)

But having done a round of soul searching, this heretofor minor narcissist decides that the key to all misery is the hamburger and becomes the lifestyle choice vegetarian. The lifestyle choice vegetarian now has the answer. "Its not my defective personality," he or she says, "all of the fault belongs to the delicious steak and the terrible people who make it for me." Now this person is playing with power; the power of the implicit lecture!

"Hello, welcome to my home. I have cleaned the house, purchased food, made lots of preparations and am now preparing a delicious steak on my barbeque grill. I want to share the treasures of my grill with you. Care for a delicious steak and to appreciate my generous hospitality?"

"No. I am vegetarian" and implicitly "and you are a bad person for tricking me into coming to your house so that you could offer me meat. I am so superior to you that my head is going to explode."

Yes, the despicable lifestyle choice vegetarian: you saw them very often in .coms, explaining while the industry cratered.

More than anything else, it both offends and terrifies me that a person could look deep into their soul, wishing for transcendant change and come up with "vegetarianism" as the answer.

HoustonChronicle.com - Rice president to face Foreman in charity bout

What?

WHAT?