Polish

How much effort can it really take to code Blogger to alter the word "comments" based on the number of comments such that the phrase is grammatically correct? When I see something like "1 comments", it just makes me shake my head.

Yes it's a little thing, but being so insignificant one would expect the fix to be simple. These kinds of errors are seen in many different fields, and it betrays a level of quality control that boggles the mind.

That was no gentleman, that was a doctor

Today I received my Juris Doctorate from Santa Clara University. Although I was unaware of it, apparently this degree entitles me to the appellation of "doctor". Personally, this sounds suspiciously like a case of lawyers simply pumping their own stats, but who am I to stand in the way of protocol?

Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.

The death of a human being is not something to be taken lightly. Even when the person represents all those qualities which I personally feel hateful and destructive, to exalt in the end of a life represents a degree of reprehensible callousness I would rather not assume. Accordingly, it is with some sympathy, grudging and forced though it may be, that I note the death of Jerry Falwell.

Reluctant though I may be, however, to be seen greeting this news with joy, I cannot help but note that our country has lost in the good reverend an implacable foe. This was a minister whose religion of universal compassion was still not broad enough to encompass those who live and love in manners different from himself. This was a servant of the Prince of Peace who advocated with flippancy and arrogance killing and war. This was a man who created and fostered division in the interest of political power. We are better off without him.

I do not know where Mr. Falwell is now. But if he has been called before his god, I hope that divinity proves more accepting and forgiving than he himself had been.

Coming Attractions

At the start of the year I joined Scary Cow, and indepedent film co-operative in the SF bay area. Pretty much everyone involved is interested in film making enough to sacrifice their free time for it, but hardly any of the members do this professionally. This arrangement has its ups and downs. You don't really get particularly polished products, but everyone gets a chance to contribute and you learn by doing, which is always more entertaining than watching or reading.

A little less than a month ago we had our project meeting, which is where people interested in producing a film pitch their idea and try to gather people to their banner. I was one of twenty-one other aspiring producers, and as our entire organization counts rought sixty members, competition for personnel was fierce. In the end, though, I managed to trick enough people into doing what I say to allow at least the attempt to be made.

On Friday we are holding auditions for the remaining cast spots. A few posts on Craigslist and other community boards generated a lot of replies, and I've recieved enough confirmations to where I'm feeling pretty good about finding the right people. Of course, it remains to be seen if any of these people actually do show.

The auditions aside, everything else is pretty well set. I've written the script, we have a cinematographer, some audio people (still need to determine which gear to rent though), and even crew. Not really sure how this will turn out, but I'm looking forward to shooting in the next few weeks.

Kanninen to right of them, Kanninen to left of them, Kanninen in front of them

Although Matt has already so announced in the comments to the last post, I figured an impending addition to the great mass of humanity is sufficient cause to restat posting to this stupid blog. Plus, one should never pass up an opportunity to paraphrase Tennyson.

More Kanninens

Matt was married in some sort of ceremony that, quite frankly, didn't appear interesting enough to warrant a trip!

I mean, if you expect me to go all the way down to Los Angeles, there'd better be some kind of ritual animal combat. Personally, I'm partial to monkeys, but you know anything vaguely vertebrate would work.

At any rate, assorted congratulations to Matt and Sevina.

New Model Diary

Well, after a brief period of hesitation, I decided to click on the "update" thing. This blog is now subject to whatever the new features are.

Hopefully nothing implodes.

Alien lands and their strange holidays

Remember remember the 5th of November,
The Gunpowder, Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot.

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent
to blow up the King and the Parliament.
Three score barrels of powder below,
Poor old England to overthrow:
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
Hip hip hoorah!

P.S. Blogging, the reading of blogging and the commenting on said blogging, shall resume soon. Thank you for your paitence.

Imperfection

I never quite know how to take a compliment. Praise triggers this bizarre discomfort, tempered though it may be by the joy of recognition, that I find very difficult to endure. Even off-hand or obligatory acclaim rarely passes without generating this most unlikely of sensations.

To be perfectly honest, I am not a modest person. While I think many people hold exaggerated views of my ego, it is admittedly of healthy dimensions. Securely am I certain in my abilities and even, though it is unbecoming to say so, my advantage over others. Daily is it reconfirmed (at least from my own somewhat circumspect position). I have faith in me, and perhaps it goes further than life has thus far born out. In any case, my aversion to compliments does not stem from some sort of self-revulsion.

When someone is kind enough to applaud my efforts or my person, I generally try to change the subject, or make a joke of it. I am happy, because indeed who does not warm to the touch of approval, but it is a shameful bliss that I shirk at the nearest opportunity. Whether other people find themselves presented with the same difficulty I don't know. If you don't, I suppose this all seems a little silly (or, maybe, a lot).

Focus Group

I have started a new blog for The Candidate. Should you have the inclination, please read it and leave any comments. Rest assured I do not seek merely acclamation of the masses, but rather I invite any questions or comments.

Now, there is a lot of text, so even if you are willing to read it, don't be a hero. Space it out.

Thanks.

You can never have too many riding shotgun.

The descendents of Jesse James (direct or collateral I'm not exactly sure of) increased by one with the birth of a baby girl. Congratulations to Jackson and his family.

Did this in Caesar seem ambitious

I have always wanted to write a Shakespearian play. I love the language of Shakespeare, and it must be said I have never shied away from the opportunity to use big words. Still, something in me says that this desire is mere vanity, and even unbecoming at that. I suspect the results would be more tedious than anything else, and it could be that the entire format is one properly relegated to the Bard's own time.

Even so, I bet it would be fun.

Animal Cunning

Nature shows are some of my favorite television programs. Now, camping, hiking, and generally going outside hold little appeal for a lazy, allergy ridden, internet addicted man, and so I tend to spend very little time in the wilds. Even so, I personally have a vast and unbounded love of nature, but it is the kind of affection best practiced from afar. In fact, my principal participation comes in the form of animal documentaries.

While watching these programs, I am often struck by the fundamental difference found in animal thought and priorities, vis-a-vis people. To illustrate this contrast, I'll use an example I recently saw on Animal Planet.

A group of lions had managed to separate a buffalo from the herd and quickly pounced on it. After an epic struggle, the assembled lionesses managed to wrestle the beast to the ground and proceeded to administer those tender grips by which animals become food. As for the poor hamburger's friends, they stood around for a little while before eventually continuing on their way.

The thing is, if the buffalo actually help each other, then none of them would die. If the lions bring down one, the others could come charge in and save it. This has both short-term benefits, in saving the intended meal, and long-term too, by frustrating the feeding attempts of predators and driving them to starvation. Of course, many animals are incapable of this kind of planning. They simply roam around at their own leisure, their only concerns being food and personal (or, in some cases, familial) safety. Whether that is a better life than we have, or worse, I cannot say for certain. But the difference sure is amusing.

Temporarily It

The dictates of social convention require a short divulgement of relatively insignificant personality traits, followed by a subsequent assignment of like responsibilities on other candidates.

1. Horror and post-apocalyptic movies truly, sincerely scare me (I suppose that is one of the drawbacks of an overactive imagination), yet I just can't resist watching them.

2. I like blue drinks. On those rare occasions when I go drinking with friends and actually drink, I ask for "something blue".

3. My favorite Transformer is Soundwave, although Star Scream is a close second.

4. In a role-playing campaign I once game mastered, a character was executed for his own murder.

5. I carry a torch for Mira Sorvino. So much so that I'll actually watch The Replacement Killers if it shows up on TV.

Because I feel it is more in keeping with the spirit of the game, I am tagging people I do not know in "real life". Apologies.

SKY, Doug, Gurn, Moon Goddess, and Guruh are now "it".

The Inequity of Chromosomes II

I'd like to take this time to write a short exposition on how much it'd suck to be a girl. Now, I do not mean to imply with that statement those improper assertions of female inferiority, the maintenance of which is a disservice to both women and men, that have long plagued society. Rather, I conclude my entire premise solely on the made for TV movies on Lifetime.

I suppose some readers may be wondering what I am doing watching Lifetime. I assure you it is simply because that's the network that shows Frasier (However, were I inclined toward Lifetime generally, I would be secure enough in my masculinity to admit it). When the object of my interest lapses in favor of commercial advertisement, I am subjected to the network's programming notifications.

As a man, my television requires nothing other than explosions and women. Although I may decry the results of pandering to such a common denominator, at least it must be said that male television is entertaining. But what's more, it's empowering. The subjects and characters in our television are dynamic, energetic, and confident.

Women's television, on the other hand, is just as shallow but tends to rely on the weakness of the audience. Lifetime's inane offerings have titles like She stole my family, My unfaithful husband, or A child's ransom. The closest thing you get to active characters are battered women who finally rise up and kill their oppressor. To make matters worse, the remaining commercials on Lifetime are an endless succession of cleaning agents, laundry detergents, and culinary implements. Women are shown brought to the heights of ecstasy by the opportunity to use a new vacuum cleaner.

It is not my intention at this time to rail against the status of gender stereotypes. Certainly they are unfair and troubling, but they are also beyond the scope of any single post or even (to be perfectly honest), my general interest. However, I feel it appropriate to commiserate with women everywhere (at least, everywhere where they are subject to Lifetime) the pathetic offerings that make up their television networks.

Pointless Factoid XVII

The calculation of the digits of Pi is a method occasionally used to test the capabilities of computers.

Another fun fact about Pi, since learning of the concept in whatever grade of school I was in, I have yet to ever encounter any situation where that knowledge was of any degree of relevance.

Blegh

I think that's the only word that adequately describes my condition over the last few days. However, I seem to have turned a corner and am generally feeling better. More of my particular brand of irreverent irrelevance later.

Little Favors

To preserve the sanity of my readers as well as the commentary of an issue of importance, I have made this "throw-away" post for people to indulge in their reciprocal commenting obligations. If you would like to read my long diatribe on torture, you are more than welcome, and to comment as well. But if you would rather avoid the novelette, I have provided this alternative.

Like a Seinfeld episode or The Crying of Lot 49, there's nothing to this post, but even I cannot be insightful all the time.

A Protestation on the Nature and Uses of Torture

A few days ago, President Bush admitted the existence of secret CIA-run prisons. "Secret" is, of course, more a description of their ideal rather than actual status, knowledge of their operation having been fairly common for some time now. Accompanying this admission was a stout defense of the institutions and the "tough" interrogation tactics used by CIA personnel. These revelations were met with pretty much the sort of responses you would expect, acceptance or rejection according to one's political proclivities. It should come as no surprise that I have an opinion on the matter too, but I hesitate to discuss the matter.

Politics has always represented something of a problem for me, at least on the internet. Every time I feel like discussing some current event, I must overcome this peculiar falling sensation. You see, political discussions online seem to me nothing other than a vast abyss, a deep void of unimaginable depth. Like a black hole, once you've been caught, there's no escape. I could see myself become consumed with argument and counter-argument, although the reality is that such substantive communications are likely the minority in a field that almost assuredly reduces down to strawmen and insults. Thus it is with great reluctance that I occasionally make political posts.

Having temporarily overcome my hesitation, I choose to take this opportunity to denounce the secret prison program. I do so for substantive, moral, and legal reasons, though ever cognizant of the possible dividends to be gained through such constructions.

Torture

Torture is something of a buzz word right now. The left wields it like a club, swinging away from a moral high ground reduced to a mole hill through cynical political opportunism. The right's position is far hazier. Although they always begin with a disclaimer denouncing torture, conservatives tend to defend it in principle with a variety of arguments, ranging from accusations that liberals would "coddle" terrorists to apocalyptic prognostications resulting from it's rejection. I highly doubt that few Republicans would be willing to criticize the administration even were it revealed that there was wide-spread and officially sanctioned acts of depraved brutality.

This suspicion stems from the fact that all of the conservative rhetoric on "tough interrogation tactics" applies equally to torture (and indeed it is not quite clear that the aforementioned inquisitorial activities are not torture). Thus, in order to reasonably reject the prison system, one must reject torture. But is that really such a good idea? I think so, and I shall endeavor to illustrate why it is the only rational, moral, and strategically sound decision.

Why We Torture

November 23rd seemed like any other day. Difficulties both foreign and domestic catapult the Democrats to Election Day successes, wrestling control of both Congressional Houses from the Republicans. Liberal celebrations are cut short, however, by the news of a nuclear blast in the port city of Los Angeles. Hundreds of thousands confirmed dead, millions injured, and California's largest city reduced to radioactive rubble.

This is the doomsday scenario. It features prominently in every single conservative defenestration of torture and abuse, and resides deep within the heart of every American too (that's what makes it such a good political tool). If we knew of such a plot, and we knew we had someone in custody who could reveal its inner workings, wouldn't we be justified in forcing the revelation through torture?

Realistically speaking, there can be only one answer. Of course, if you knew, and the decision was one person against thousands or millions, the only choice lies in the preservation of the group. As Vulcan logic long ago illustrated, "the needs of the many outweighed he needs of the few, or the one." By such arithmetic, there really is no other conclusion. And I use arithmetic purposefully, for it would then be a simple matter of mathematics; as in math, there would be only one solution to the equation. Given this assertion, how can I maintain hostility to torture?

To begin with, we will never actually know. We may suspect with degrees of confidence, but utter certainty will always evade us. This is true in everything that we do; all human events are subject to unforeseen vicissitudes. We have a word for that. It's called risk. When we accept torture, we will do so not with the comforting absolution of necessity, but the far more dubious justification of the possible. Of course, one could imagine probabilities so probable as to be virtually inevitable, and one would also have to allow that more latitudes are appropriate where there is more risk. And therein lies the trap.

Suppose instead of certainty, we had but a one-percent or even perhaps only a fraction of a percent of uncovering a nuclear plot. It would not be acceptable to torture someone for shoplifting revelations under such conditions, but nuclear devastation is another matter. So we apply the most abusive coercions with the least justification, or maybe even none at all, absolved by the magnitude of the threat.

It should shortly become obvious that this line of reasoning eventually vindicates any efforts, no matter how cruel or depraved, so long as the expected evil is sufficiently menacing. It would not take long before torture sustained the use of torture, and all the ills we feared from others we visit upon ourselves.

Frail Constitution

Loathed though we may be to admit it, there is a certain degree of comfort in the belief that torture would be limited to a distant and hostile people, burdened by primitive cultures and characterized by a barbaric religion. Please note that neither of those two things are true, but in the minds of many (but thankfully, not most) Americans, abuses committed on Arabs, especially aggressive Arabs, are no great crimes. Unfortunate, regrettable to be sure, as we are not a cruel people, but if necessary then so be it.

However, not only is this position morally bankrupt even were it accurate, but the arbitrary dividing line between foreign and domestic would quickly dissolve. Only two categories would remain after the inauguration of atrocity: Convicted and suspected.

Democracy is a frail thing. Despite our modern sentiments, a quick review of history reveals that security and not liberty has ever been the great concern of the masses. People purchase security through expediency, and abstract niceties like Due Process are quickly discarded in favor of more comforting paradigms. Already the Constitution withers before the oppressive sun of secret warrants, military tribunals, and illegal detention.

American citizens have been held for long periods, deprived of rights, refused the presence of counsel, and imprisoned without recourse to the judicial process. Executive fiat has become a law onto itself, buttressed in equal part by a compliant Congress and an effective trade in the currency of public apprehension. For now these travesties are the exception of an otherwise laudable rule. But how long would the Bill of Rights, for all their majesty nothing more than ink and paper, stand against the claims of necessity?

The acceptance of torture is nothing other than the acclamation of tyranny. The end may come by small steps or great bounds, but our democratic heritage will not survive the enthronement of atrocity.

Poor Dividends and Unfortunate Externalities

Finally, as if the self-expanding and tyrannical implications of torture were not bad enough, we are also faced with the fact that it is an implement of dubious strategic value.

Torture, by its very nature, produces extreme stresses on a person. The target may hold out for a time, subject to his nature and conditioning, but eventually everyone breaks. The thing is, "breaking" someone does not always produce the best results. In their desperate attempt to avoid further pain, a tortured subject will provide both what he knows and what he thinks his interrogator wishes to hear.

Both true and lie, having proceeded from the same coercion, wear the same shroud of reliability. That is, either high for you believe that a broken man would not lie, or else low, as you suspect that he may simply be squealing to save himself. In neither case is one piece of "intelligence" more worthy than the other, unless you have at hand other sources. If you have such alternatives, then the reliability increases somewhat (subject, of course, to their own confidence), but still remain suspect. And in their absence, what you have may be no more valuable than the musings of a high school cheerleading squad.

As if the questionable reliability of torture were not enough, such indulgences do not sit well with a substantial portion of Americans and an even greater percentage of foreigners. Every abusive revelation makes it that much harder to deal fairly with those Arabic countries who wish for a more peaceful way. Each outrage fans the flames of global terrorism, likely producing far more dangers than you ever prevented in the first place. The acceptance of human degradation here also makes it harder for us to impose moral authority on bankrupt and cruel regimes abroad.

However, disdain for Americans will not be limited merely to our enemies. Our allies too have profound misgivings of our activities, and our methods. Some may say we don't need anyone else, and that might or might not be true. However, certainly it would be easier to protect ourselves with the cooperation of others. Safety, that great enabler which first led us to the atrocious expedient, is not furthered by the alienation of allies.

Finally, many Americans oppose torture. They are just as patriotic as their more aggressive countrymen, and perhaps more so, as they stand for the proposition that a society is to be judged not only in how it treats its own, but in how it treats others. We are heirs to a great democratic tradition of individual liberty, restricted governance, and guaranteed protections. Acquiescence to this malevolent proposition tarnishes our legacy forever, leaving us with less to protect and less to pass on.

Veni, Vidi, Vici

This last weekend I was at the Conquest gaming convention in Burlingame. These conventions always completely floor me, as four consecutive days of little sleep, poor nutrition, and constant activity prove very draining. However, the experience is always pleasant and I look forward to their occasional though regular occurrence.

Over the length of the con I participated in a myriad of games, portraying everyone from the King of Prussia to a juvenile knife-wielding cannibalistic sociopath (roles not entirely dissimilar). My efforts met with a mixture of success and failure, but were in all instances entirely enjoyable.

An unfortunate side-effect, however, is this distorted sleep schedule. I slept for almost 24 hours after returning from the convention, and the rest of the week has labored under this unfortunate externality. Sleep comes at odd times, when at all, exasperating a problem I have long dealt with. My waking hours are of little more value, as a general malaise drains both energy and enthusiasm, coloring even simple tasks with the most oppressive shades of difficulty. That is, in fact, the reason for the dearth of posts this last week. However, I can do little else but ride it out. Guess I'll have something more to say then.


P.S. Lest you think I have forgotten you, I shall resume my ordinary diligence in tracking the various minutiae all of you see fit to post about on your own blogs, and respond to any comments any of you might have regarding my own trivialities later.