Book Club

This guy and I are starting a Book Club. We're starting, I think, with Kafka. With The Trial. We're inviting others. If you want to join, just let me know. We may limit it to people we know; we may not. It depends upon the response.

Lawrence Lessig is a big fat idiot.

Actually, I'm not sure if Lawrence Lessig is sizable. Or overweight. But I am sure he is an idiot. How? In the most recent issue of Wired, Mr. Lessig wrote the following:

"Why buy Net Nanny software for $40 when you can get the same protection through regulation for free?"

The article is, overall, about COPA, filters, and "his" idea for porn metatags. Leaving aside the glossed-over First Amendment problems with actually policing the content provider's use of such metatags for a moment, I'd like to explain why the above-quoted sentence is at least prima facie evidence of Mr. Lessig's idiocy. Simply put, he used the term "free" in a financial context.

I'll let an advertiser get away with using "free" from time to time, because puffing and duping are all part of the game. But when it comes to "academic" essays of this nature, I refuse to let it slide. Robert Heinlein said it best: there ain't no such thing as a free lunch.

The choice is not $40 for Net Nanny vs. $0 for regulation. It is $40 for Net Nanny vs. $10 through taxes for you plus $100 taxes for your neighbor plus $30 additional costs for content providers plus $5 additional costs for browser developers, where the taxes are needed to pay for the Congressional aides' time in drafting the legislation and the hiring of the additional FCC (or whomever is tapped to police) agents and whatever else might stem from this enterprise.

Or maybe it is $40 for Net Nanny vs. $1 through taxes for you plus $.01 through taxes for your neighbor plus less than a penny for everything else. I don't know. But don't say "free." It lets everyone know that you are an idiot.

Another New Story

New story up, called Scientists Isolate Quasi-virus "Spermazoa," Linked to STD "Pregnancy". Enjoy.

Classes

Started back up. Behind already. Isn't law school fun?

Bi-Partisan vs. Non-Partisan

Don't be fooled. Bi-partisan and non-partisan are not synonyms. Just see this for an explanation as to why you should care.

A Willow in the Desert

While driving north through New Mexico, amid the regular stormless lightning and pinkish stone, I noticed several residences shaded by willow trees. A willow in the desert no less extravagant than using a helicopter to pick up cigarettes from the local gas station. To the waterhogs of the West: please stop flaunting your government-sponsored excess wealth or we might be forced to take it away.

Home

Home. The garden is a bit larger than it was when I left. And my partner has taken on another flatmate. With my knowledge and tacit permission, of course. Of course. But I'm home. At last.

Please see a new news story and film reviews. Expect more later. When I'm less tired and full of hot.

On the Road

I left New Jersey on Sunday. I spent the first night about two hours east of Nashville in a Comfort Inn. I was drawn to the Comfort Inn by its billboard on the highway, promising a $39.99 room and "HI SPEED INTERNET." As it turns out, the room--the cheapest in the very vacant hotel--was $62.98 with the AAA discount. I love negative discounts. And the Internet access was not sensibly available to those with a wireless card (like myself), but instead only available to those with an Ethernet card (which I have) and a cable (which I neglected to bring along). A bit upset, I did nothing, like the pussy that I am.

Second day of driving was more leisurely, involving a stopover in Memphis, at the fairly good zoo and driving its pretty streets, and another stopover in Little Rock. Little Rock is a run down, but still glorious city. Arkansas surprised me at being flat and rather swampy, in a bayouish manner (complete with trees with knees taking a bath). Stayed at off-the-highway hotel, advertised at $28.99 and run by a tiny Indian woman. A little more worse-for-wear than the Comfort Inn, I still preferred it; at least it charged as advertised.

Third day brought me into Texas. I know people that get a bit fearful when they enter a "bad area" of an older city. Driving into Harlem or Camden or the like. I never felt that. But I did get a bit fearful when driving into Texarkana. It looks just like the rest of the country in most ways--complete with strip malls and fat roads and fast food and SUVs--but it still made me nervous and indefinably afraid for my safety. I thought at the time it was the longhorns on the street signs and bridges and the like, but I've seen that since without wavering, so I'm not convinced.

Third day also brought me into Austin. Austin is much bigger than I expected, actually. I looked it up; it has over 600,000 people in the city proper, and over a million in the metro area. Big. But nice. Nicer than expected. Hot, as expected. But big with character. Sure, sprawl and unchecked growth. But there was a kernel of interest there to start. Unlike, say, Phoenix. Or Dallas. Nice. Staying with my friend Heather. Went for dinner, drinks, and movie. Moviehouse called Alamo, and served beer.

Fourth day, went to San Antonio. Which is the home of the famed and rather unimpressive Alamo. And is home to a district called Riverwalk, which is this semi-subterranean riverside sidewalks with tourist trap shops and restaurants. Is much nicer in person than sounds. Is actually very beautiful. Also went to dinner and movie in evening. Nice.

Kansas to Ban Sterile Marriage

New news satire up. Called Kansas to Ban Sterile Marriage. Sparked by a conversation I had with this guy who thought marriage was about procreation, and that was his primary objection to gay marriage. Enjoy.

New Songs

Monkey Throw Feces wrote and recorded three new songs today, each more excellent than the last. David Mamet is a fairly straightforward song about the playwright and director. Sad Pop Song is a more melodic and generally sad version of Pop Song #42 with a bonus six seconds, dedicated to The Cure cover bands. Acoustic/Electric is the result of a broken cable, a short cord adapter, an unexpectedly high level of feedback, and some acoustic chords. Enjoy.

Choose Your Own Adventure.

I always loved Choose Your Own Adventure books. They were simultaneously terrible and wonderful. I attempted one a few years back. It was Halloween themed. So, sticking to tradition, when I got the itch to write another CYOA this (technically yesterday) morning, I found a holiday. On Wikipedia. Useful. What I ended up coming up with--and using--was the "Transfiguration Bank Holiday." I gather that it is 1) a holiday, 2) celebrated in El Salvador, 3) a bank-closing holiday, and 4) a religious holiday. The last is based on my minimal religious training which, I believe, involved the term "transfiguration" at some point.

So this morning, I wrote a CYOA, set in El Salvador. It involves both religion and bank closures as plot motivators. It also involves, I hope, some humor. And of course, as with any good CYOA-for-adults, it involves sex and violence. Disturbing sex and violence. Enjoy.

Rush

Rush puts on a good show. I saw them about two years ago and enjoyed myself. I enjoyed myself more this time, despite the introduction of a number of cover songs to the set. Why? Rain. It poured for roughly four songs during the first set. Which made us wet, uncomfortable, and cold. It sucked, yes; but it was awesome.

The Bourne Supremacy

Watched The Bourne Supremacy last night. Enjoyable enough. But for some reason the new director, a guy by the name of Paul Greengrass, seems to have decided that to make his movie more "authentic" or "real" or "good," he'd cherry pick from Dogme 95's Vow of Chastity. Looked like nothing but on location shooting, albeit with numerous props. Looked like the film took place "here and now." And it looked like most of the film was done with a hand-held. Why? It certainly couldn't have been that he was trying to create a Dogme film. It was a genre picture, it had a great deal of "superficial" violence, it had outside music. Perhaps someone should buy this Paul Greengrass a tripod and stop distracting us.

Lessons in Careful Reading

The webmaster of Not The Onion--a gentleman named Michael Molino--emailed me to complain about my characterization of NTO. He said, "You claim that with more writers, we get less hits," and demanded an apology.

Seeing how I never said this, I refuse to apologize. What I said was, "It gets almost as few hits as YL, and with many more writers." When I use the "almost as few" construction, I am implying that the former has more than the latter. To imply otherwise is to fail to demonstrate a mastery of the English language.

Perhaps Mr. Molino was objection to my characterization of NTO as getting "almost as few" hits as YL because it implies a certain closeness in the numbers. He did send me NTO's unique visitors chart from July.



I also obtained YL's unique visitors chart from July.



As you can see, NTO did have more unique visitors than YL during July. I am not disputing that. But they don't look as disparate as all that to me. The NTO scale runs from 0 to 180; the YL scale runs from 0 to 160. Yes, NTO does seem to have a more plateau shape than YL (although the deep valley in the middle was caused by 1 & 1's server going down, not a dry spell). But come on. Is this really worth bickering about? Well, Mr. Molino?

New Story

There is a new news story up about Lara Flynn Boyle, axes, and The Scottish Play. Enjoy.

Cat

Looks like I'm not taking the cat after all. Too complicated, edging on moot. So sleeping in the car is once again an option.

Texas

I'm going to visit my friend in Texas in about a week. I'm supposed to bring her cat. The few people I've told have been mortified, and have forewarned the loose-in-the-car cat--who doesn't really know or like me--will jump on my head, causing a horrible accident. So I'm apologizing in advance to those between Scotch Plains, NJ--where I am picking up the feline--and Austin, TX--where the feline's owner now lives--that if they are maimed in a horrible automobile accident involving a green Saturn from Idaho.

Peters Map

The West Wing has its second season out on DVD. Actually, it has probably been out for some time, but it has just recently started to dominate my Netflix queue. I remembered what turns out to have been the second "Big Block of Cheese" episode from when it first aired, but it was good to give it another look-see. CJ had a run-in with what promised to be a humorous and ridiculous band of "merry men" from a fictional group called "Cartographers for Social Equality," or something. So they put up the Peters Map, which is basically another two dimensional representation of a three dimensional object, but this one with a better characterization of relative areas. Which I guess is a serious social issue. But I always preferred the da Vinci or Buckminster Fuller ways of avoiding excessive stretching with scissors. So much more satisfying.

Tiki Bar

Returned to the Jersey Shore last night, primarily to have a few drinks at a tiki bar. After waiting on line for twenty minutes, getting carded by a police officer, paying $10 to get in, we still got watered-down drinks in a too-crowded atmosphere, all the while subjected to a near-parodic cover band that had a horrendous version of "Sweet Home Alabama" mingling with the more expected Michael Jackson feints. Disappointed? You could say that.