The Long Highway

Sunday, July 31, 2005

Well, there's your problem, ma'am . . .

A little something for all the folks who think we're the most generous of all nations.

Foreign aid compared to military spending (i.e., what percent of military spending comprises a nation's commitment to foreign aid?)

Many another amazing graph is available -- see the dialog box at the top of the page.

Saturday, July 30, 2005

L. Ron Hubbard - Scientology's esteemed founder.

Good summary of Hubbard here -- L. Ron Hubbard - Scientology's esteemed founder. By Michael Crowley

"There's a deep chasm between the erudite, noble Hubbard of Scientology myth and the true identity of the church's wacky founder. To those not in his thrall, Hubbard might be better described as a pulp science-fiction writer who combined delusions of grandeur with a cynical hucksterism. Yet he turned an oddball theory about human consciousness—which originally appeared in a 25-cent sci-fi magazine—into a far-reaching and powerful multimillion-dollar empire. "

Who is Xenu?

Just thought -- with all this stupid crap Tom Cruise is spouting, it enrages me that the press casually mention that celebrities are Scientologists without mentioning what Scientology is based on.

Most people seem to think -- even if they think it is wacky -- it is some quasi-science-based religion of some kind. Nothing could be further from the truth. This page explains exactly what the core belief of Scientology is, something Scientologists only have revealed to them long after they have been suckered in with promises of being healed of whatever their emotional or physical problems are, handed over upwards of $100,000, and been thoroughly brainwashed -- because let's face it, after you read this, your jaw will drop in astonishment that successful, apparently moderately intelligent people like Cruise or John Travolta actually believe this stuff.

The question the press needs to ask every Scientologist who makes an issue of it is: Who is Xenu? Beware -- Scientologists say that reading this information without the appropriate indoctrination will kill you instantly! Either that, or make you run screaming from the next Scientologist you meet.

The week that wasn't

A week of not really getting much done, or so it felt. But that's not true. Hung a whole bunch of pictures, got up to LA to meet a friend and get out of the house for an afternoon, did a lot of daddying to Jack. Totally backslid on all diet and exercsie, due mostly to a heat wave gripping SoCal. Not so bad right where we live, and our apartment is shady and cool and stayed that way most days, but stepping out into the sun was a mistake. Thigs evened out later in the week but today, another hot one.

Trying like hell to figure a way to afford a trip to Vegas on a shoestring to see some old friends for the first time in more than a year, just a quick overnight drive basically. Not sure if it will be possible due to a shift to a school schedule that's a week earlier, not to mention the money, though I don't gamle -- just wanna hand with the guys. Hope it works out.

G and Jack are out shopping. This is the first time I have had the house to myself for a couple of hours in, I dunno, weeks, I guess. I LOVE Jack and taking care of him all day is a blast but it is also nice to have a little time to myself. Less than planned -- we all slept in a little this morning, which wa snice, all three of us curled up in bed together with Boris next to the bed. So G only left about 90 minutes ago, and I spent the interim looking up some stuff, editing and posting some pictures to Jack's blog and now I have got to clean up the kitchen, call Mom and Dad and shower up . . . and then, maybe, get going on some of the work I had planned to do today. We shall see!

By the way, I have done the reading and at this point I can safely say that Judge Roberts is a ideological douche-bag. Exactly the kind of under-the-radar weasel I am not surprised to see Wiffle-Brain's handlers tell him to nominate. And now he is actually going to appoint that cranky old shit-eater Bolton in a recess appointment. The only thing worse than the utter shamelessness of these rotten, despicable men is the fact that they do whatever the hell they please and get away with it. The Karl Rove thing, I mean my God, there isn't one thing on it in the paper today. Not one item, and this is the LA Times. Not even on the investigation. It's all been neatly swept away. I have never seen a gang of thugs and goons with such a reckless disregard for the balance of powers intended by the Founding Fathers. The worst thing is that people just keep giving them a free pass. It's sad, horrifying and unbelievable. It's like he is a corrupt little king, ruling by fiat. Whatever he wants, be it unconstitutional, unethical, immoral or even illegal, he just does it and nobody calls him on it. The weak, castrated corpse that was the Washington Press Corps showed some faint signs of life badgering the administration about Nigergate or whatever, but have slithered back into their scum-bag again, or so it seems. What is it going to take for people to realize that this great nation is on the verge of being harmed irreparably? That this is not a gesture to be taken anything other than literally?

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Dress Steve Jobs

Real Tech News - Independent Tech � Dress Steve Jobs

Saturday, July 23, 2005

Reform the Patriot Act | Myths & Realities

Reform the Patriot Act | Myths & Realities

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Post for John M


Downloaded this from your blog, opened it in Windows with MS Picture Preview, rotated it, saved it. Let's see how it posts -- why, it posts correctly. There is something wrong with the way you are rotating the files, or the way your camera is saving/tagging them in the first place.

Red tide

I mentioned several posts ago what seemed to be an awful, stinky amount of pollution in the water. I wrote an email to the city inquiring about it, and an environmental staffer wrote back informing me that this stinky, disgusting slurry is red tide. Gotta stay away from the beaches with the little guy for a while -- and take a pass on any local shellfish until October, or so I understand. I have had bad late-night wheezing more than once after a long walk, and I read that this, sore throats and toher problems can be caused by inhaling the contaminants in the sea spray. Can't wait for this dastardly filth to go away. Eating seafood during red tide season means you are ingesting potentially unsafe neurotoxins, which are dealy to some marine life and can make people seriously ill. Just great, move a mile away from the beach and it's uninhabitable.

Phew.

What a day. Jack slept all night last night, right through to 5 am. Of course, this means he is a bundle of fire today. He woke up at 8 and apart fro a few seconds of random dozing he has been awake ever since. In fact, I just had to get up because he was crabbing in his crib because his mobile had automatically shut off. More adventures with Jack today can be found in his blog.

So my plan to get more things done during my day for the moment is not happening. I think once Jack's rhythms change a little and he gets more into a nap/eat/play/nap cycle -- something a little more stable -- I might be able to plan some activities for my day. At some point this week we are going to go over to the Maritime Museum in San Pedro, which I elected not to bore G with the other day.

In the meantime, I still have not showered because I hold out hope of going for my walk today, the kitchen needs cleaning, some pictures have been screaming out to be hung for nearly a month and I have a wide-awake three-month-old on my hands. What could be better?

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Another week....

Not sure what to make of the Bush nomination for the Supreme Court. Very disappointed by the knee-jerk reactions of People for the American Way, et al., who seem to say," we don't really know where this man stands on anything, but we're sure he is a bastard because he wasn't our preferred pick." I am holding out hope that Wiffle-head can do one thing right in his whole presidency. A slender reed of hope, that. But let's learn a little more about this character before damning him.

Meanwhile here at home, I have had two interesting experiences of note being Mr. Mom. I researched some stuff on the Internet about Jack and mentioned to Genevieve that in a forum, "some of the other moms said . . ." when I suddenly caught myself and realized what I had said. I need to watch more sports. The reason I was researching things was, when Jack and I went out for our afternoon walk, I was eating a chicken sandwich next to him in the back seat of the car after we parked at the beach. I casually glanced down and the top of his cranium where his frontal soft spot is was pulsing vigorously up and down! Like, it looked like a phony B movie effect. I nearly gagged on my sandwich as I let out a high, quavering cry and stared at it like it was Hamlet's father's ghost. It stopped and I wondered if it was some trick of the light, but no! It began again!

So there was a phone call -- one of only a few -- to the wonderful nurses at our wonderful pediatrician's, asking in an embarassed way if this was normal. Yes, it is, they said. But it is still freaky, they agreed. Anyway, the "other moms" talked about this a lot!

So that's my life, basically. G has had to work Saturdays for like the last few weeks and will do so for several more. I wake up when Jack does at 7 or 8, feed him, put him in for a nap and have breakfast and tidy up, then he's up and sometimes stays up for almost the whole rest of the day. At the doctor's request I am giving him lots of playtime on his tummy. He seems to be getting the hang of the "daytime is awake time, nighttime is sleep time" thing but it will be a real treat in a few months when it has totally sunken in.

Later we'll walk the dog. I was very good about getting my exercise walks in last week. It is a real challenge -- between packing up Jack, getting him in the car, getting down to the beach, walking, and getting back home, my 30-minute walk eats up like 90 minutes. But it is really good to get out of the house. About the only thing that is getting to me is that I really never have more than an hour or so to direct my attention to anything, really no solitary time to gether my thoughts. I had planned on working on a video this summer but there is no practical way -- just trying to tend to Jack and keep the house a little bit in order and get some exercise every day is about the most I seem able to accomplish. Might try getting to bed earlier, and up earlier. Yeah, right. The only other thing is the fact that I hardly ever leave the house at all except for this little walk or a trip to the grocery store, but I am sure that once school kicks back in I will be yearning for such a thing.

But hey, Jack is so worth it. he makes me smile and smile and feel good whenever I look at him. He's that wonderful.

So that's why longer posts are few and far between. Mostly, I have time to blog out a quick link as below.

I am in the evenings beginning to try to work my way through film directors I don't know enough about. I'm on Fellini right now; La Dolce Vita last night, 8 1/2 (which I have seen once before) tonight. (Adding this on Jul 20, for some reason my full post did not complete). Was going to watch I Vitelloni tonight but Netflix did not send it to me, blessing me instead with Garden State, which I am not that interested in.

At the present moment it doesn't feel like G and I have really had a break, a vacation really of any kind, where we could just kick back and relax for a week or so with nothing much to do, for, oh, several years. Every trip has revolved around a family get-together (which, while fun, is not the lie-around-and-relax type of thing I am thinking of) or wedding (ditto) or some such thing, and on our extremely limited budget, and nonexistent available time, has meant that we do little in the way of personal relaxation. Is it the same for everyone? Maybe. I'm not whining about it, by any means, but I have rarely wanted more to just get away somewhere for a week where there isn't much to do but sit on a porch, watch a sunset on a quiet evening, sip some wine and read a book. Sounds so simple, and yet it is, at the present time, quite impossible.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

Well, duh.

Please, tell me you had already figured this out on your own:
HoustonChronicle.com - Studies: Most foreign fighters didn't wage terror before Iraq war

Friday, July 15, 2005

The Left Coaster: Treasongate (Part VI): Response to GOP talking points

It's incredible to me that the supporters of our jabbering Ape of a child-president still parrot out the senseless and demonstrably false shite peddled by this administration. I just can't believe the level of willful self-deception that goes on in the name of "patriotism." It makes me want to vomit.

I hope this slimy, pig-faced redneck scumbag Rove gets whipped naked through the streets of Georgetown. Something tells me it ain't gonna happen -- but he may be a millstone around the neck of this corrupt, thieving gang of scum in the White House for the rest of Monkey-Boy's term regardless. Which would also be nice. Cheerfully-biased link courtesy of my brother Teige.

The Left Coaster: Treasongate (Part VI): Response to GOP talking points

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Back in action

Well we're finally moved in down in Long Beach -- most of the boxes are put away and the great many of you whom we haven't called or written lately will hear from us soon.

Our new place is very nice, 1000% quieter than our Hollywood abode. Long Beach is kind of a funny place; there is obviously a lot of urban renewal and gentrification going on, and there is a lot of beautiful new stuff in the downtown area, around the aquarium and seafront -- but there is still, not far off from that, a kind of knackered seaport town lurking beneath. And some things you would expect from a new, sparkling downtown -- like a nearby Borders or Home Depot -- don't seem to be here; you have to drive 5 miles or so to find such a place, so it's rather like a suburb.

In other words, it's a really nice place, but it has patches that are really not so nice. Kind of like LA. BUT, one has the sense here that there is some kind of community, some kind of "there" there that you don't get in LA. LA seems to me to be a very disconnected string of quasi-suburbs. Long Beach has a little of that, in microcosm, but there is more of a sense that you are living in a town, somewhere with its own sense of place.

One thing we have here is our immediate proximity to the sea, something I have long desired. It's really something to watch the massive container ships, stacked up like flights over O'Hare, snake their way into the harbor across the bay, where enormous cranes stand ready to load and unload them. You only get a real sense of how fast these massive ships are moving when you watch them with a point of reference on shore.

In the afternoons I have been taking Jack on a walk along the long, long, Long Beach bike and pedestrian path which runs along the oceanfront. The sea water is a distressingly polluted-looking shade of brown and I can't sea wading into it, as so many people seem to have no problem doing. But the beach itself is cool. Down south of us a bit is a very nice little stretch of shops and restaurants in downtown, and further along about 3 miles away in Belmont Shore is a classic shore-town main street sort of avenue, lovely to walk on and filled with friendly, neighborly folks. Further along is Naples Island, which G and I drove briefly around on. Oh my, do I ever want to live here. It's an island encircled by a canal, and people's back decks open right out onto the canal, where their boats are parked. I'll tell you, I have always longed for a boat but living here really has my jones running in high gear.

There is still so much to see, do and get used to here.... the Aquarium of the Pacific, the Queen Mary, numerous historic sites and gardens. AND, we're only about ten minutes from Disneyland!

The apartment itself is very nice. No A/C but thanks to the incredibly balmy mid-70s seaside climate there is literally no need. A nice breeze blows right through, especially when our front door, which opens onto the courtyard, is open -- we have a screen door, which we love. A small deck and a grill and we're all set. There isn't that much more room than our old place -- definitely larger by a good amount, but mostly it's about having the second room for Jack (and Genevieve's desk). The kitchen was recently redone with marble countertops and new appliances so I am in hog heaven there.

Our move, getting here, was brutal though. I do not recommend trying to move with a 2-month-old. Jack was great but he is still at an age at which he needs pretty constant attention. I mean there are breaks, but he has never been one of these mythical "sleeps for 20 hours" newborns. And of course he needed to be fed every two hours like clockwork, and G had to work and was exhausted, so getting our stuff packed and ready to rock was a real drag and took forever, because usually only one person could be packing at a time. It was absolutely miserable.

Then we took a quick trip down here to drop off some items and walking to the car I took one of those giant spills, where you trip and try to recover, one big step, two big steps, and then you go down anyway. Well, in my case, my entire massive weight landed on my thick, hard wallet lying in my hip pocket, which drove it deep into the muscle tissue of my thigh. I came up limping and hardly able to lift my leg more than an inch off the ground without severe agony limiting my movement. So the lion's share of the move I had to handle limping around and having to lift my leg up off the ground with my hands (whenever I screw up a leg or foot and have to limp around like this, I am filled with amazament at my dad, who hasn't had proper use of his legs in decades, and his ability to get -- hell, out of the house, much less to his two jobs all those years).

Fortunately I had arranged laborers to load and unload our U-Haul truck. I drove down to Long Beach the night before our move so I could pick it up in the morning. To my horror the only truck they had for me was a 26 foot manual transmission that seemed to have been built around the time U-Haul was founded. The steering wheel was two feet across at least and the pedals required me to lift my long legs up a good foot off the ground to depress them and make the vehicle move. Now, you can imagine the horror that swept through my veins as I first pulled out into traffic with this behemoth and forced my body to overcome the shrieking pain reflex as I tried to lift my injured leg to apply the brake. I have never felt more certain that my death, or a fellow driver's, was imminent. Then I had to drive this thing through 30 miles of bumper-to-bumper freeway traffic, stopping and starting the whole way. The worst was the 710-to-I-5 entrance ramp, which was at an angle and required me to creep the vehicle forward inches at a time while. I was literally almost crying in pain from riding the clutch, the break and the gas all at the same time while clinging to the steering wheel while the cab of the trukc was perched at a precarious 45-degree angle. Horrifying. I mean, the only more terrifying driving I have done was screaming down the Rocky Mountains barely in control of a 15-foot Budget rental turkc conatingin all our possessions on the move out west. Both experiences were pants-poopingly scary.

Anyway. We finally got everything moved. In between tending to Jack G and I slowly got our crap unpacked. We've managed to explore town a little bit, take in a local ball game and see some sights but we're only now starting to feel even remotely settled in, and able to take a deep breath and adjust to life here for the next 18 months at least. I'm looking forward to exploring and updating you all on life here.

Meanwhile, in the real world, how about that fucking Karl Rove?