Random thought

In a lot of depictions (usually cartoonish, but I thoroughly believe that cartoons can tell us more about our society than most other things), heaven is shown as a bunch of people standing around on clouds.

Why is this good? I, for one, glance at things like that and immediately think: Man, that must be boring. They've got, like, five square feet of land per person. Sure, you can fly, but give me some space to stretch out! What happens when your wings get tired? You've got to just stand there, in the middle of a cloud? That's not my heaven, I'll tell you that.

Miscellany

1. You should check out CDBabel, because everyone likes music, and a good buddy of mine runs it.

2. That's really all, actually, so I'm not sure why this is in a list. I'll use this space to say that it's kind of cool to be working with (sort of) someone who's columns you've read and really liked in the past. (Really, it's kind of neat to be listed, in any way, even if it is 'editorial intern' on the staff page of any sort of publication.

3. While I'm here: I can't get it out of my mind that the London not-bombings were allegedly in protest of the war in Iraq, which is not an actual war, nor is it part of the war on terror, which is also not an actual war, nor does it exist any longer. More on that later.

But of course we're right.

According to CNN, an aprehended suspect who was allegedly involved in the 7/21 bombing attempts in London was not connected with the 7/7 attacks, nor al Qaeda. They were, however, mighty pissed off about us pissing on Iraq:

Further, the source said, Osman told authorities the bombs were meant to draw attention to anger over the war in Iraq and not to kill anyone.

"I am against war," the source quoted Osman as saying. "I've marched in peace rallies and nobody listened to me. I never thought of killing people."

Whoopsies. Sorry about that, London. I hate it when that happens: You get dragged into an illegal, immoral, and pointless war because your prime minister is a spineless twit, and then, next thing you know, dozens if not hundreds of your soldiers have been killed for no reason. Then all the sudden you've got these jerks at least pretending like they're trying to blow up your subway and buses, and that just never ends well, does it?

Also, to these guys who are so opposed to the war? To Hussain Osman? You're an idiot and a jerk. You, according to an unnamed source in a CNN article, are peaceful and opposed to the war. Let me give you a hint: Masquareding as a terrorist will get you no points. You'll lose any credibility you may have had, not just with those who favor the war, but other opponents of it. Violence, be it mock or real, begets violence. Real or no, bombs aren't going to solve anything. You're just being counterproductive, and it's people like you who give people like me a bad name.

Really, I can understand what would drive someone to drastic measures like that. It's frustrating to be a minority, even if it's only percieved as such in your mind. It's frustrating to be screaming as loudly as you can at the government and at society and for it to have no effect. I truly can understand the desire to force them to shut up and look at you, to force them to see you. I think anyone who's truly, sincerely dedicated to a cause knows the feeling: It may be wrong, but if I do X, then they'll have to listen to me. If I set off a bomb, then they won't be able to ignore me any more. They don't listen when you talk, so you scream. They still don't listen when you scream, so you throw a punch or two. Seems logical.

But it's not going to work. Maybe in some other era it would, maybe in some other reality. But here and now, you know what it does? It puts you in the 'them' category. They can ignore someone yelling dissent: they can't ignore a bookbag spewing smoke. Take it to that next level and you're the enemy, not just a nuisance. This is a "with us or against us" time, regrettably, and the only way to change it is to stay as 'them'. Stay inside, no matter how intolerable, how detestable it may be. Stay inside and claw your way out, turning their own system against them. Eventually, it'll get better.

Just stop it with the bombs. That's not the way.

Some DoJ Stuff

Now, this is interesting. If you Google for "patriot act", just like that, the first two links you get take you here, to the full text of the act, and then to EPIC's (a privacy group) main Patriot Act website. The third link's title is "United States Department of Justice", which leads one to believe that it may be a link to the main DoJ page, which would make sense. The URL is www.lifeandliberty.gov, which...I can't even touch, because that's too easy. It took me a moment or two to figure out what it is, and slowly, as I clicked on the "Dispelling the myths" link, it dawned on me.

Propaganda. It's a .gov, yes, and it's pure, unadulterated propaganda. It's "yay-America, we're-right, don't-ask-any-questions-because-Big-Brother-is-watching" propaganda.

Without further ado, a few of my thoughts on their dispelling of myths.

Myth: The ACLU claims that the Patriot Act "expands terrorism laws to include 'domestic terrorism' which could subject political organizations to surveillance, wiretapping, harassment, and criminal action for political advocacy." They also claim that it includes a "provision that might allow the actions of peaceful groups that dissent from government policy, such as Greenpeace, to be treated as 'domestic terrorism.'" (ACLU, February 11, 2003; ACLU fundraising letter, cited by Stuart Taylor in "UnPATRIOTic," National Journal, August 4, 2003)

Reality: The Patriot Act limits domestic terrorism to conduct that breaks criminal laws, endangering human life. "Peaceful groups that dissent from government policy" without breaking laws cannot be targeted. Peaceful political discourse and dissent is one of America's most cherished freedoms, and is not subject to investigation as domestic terrorism. Under the Patriot Act, the definition of "domestic terrorism" is limited to conduct that (1) violates federal or state criminal law and (2) is dangerous to human life. Therefore, peaceful political organizations engaging in political advocacy will obviously not come under this definition. (Patriot Act, Section 802)

Er. Okay, so let's ignore the part where they freely admit that the Patriot Act gives feds the right to investigate state crimes. Let's just focus on the part where a large protest which strays outside the permited area (outside a "free speech" zone, perhaps) could be considered both illegal and hazardous to life. Let's also just focus on the part where, if I were to go speeding down I-95 (which would be considered in violation of state law and hazardous to life), I could be a terrorist. Oops.

Myth: The ACLU has claimed that "Many [people] are unaware that their library habits could become the target of government surveillance. In a free society, such monitoring is odious and unnecessary. . . The secrecy that surrounds section 215 leads us to a society where the 'thought police' can target us for what we choose to read or what Websites we visit." (ACLU, July 22, 2003)

Reality: The Patriot Act specifically protects Americans' First Amendment rights, and terrorism investigators have no interest in the library habits of ordinary Americans. Historically, terrorists and spies have used libraries to plan and carry out activities that threaten our national security. If terrorists or spies use libraries, we should not allow them to become safe havens for their terrorist or clandestine activities. The Patriot Act ensures that business records - whether from a library or any other business - can be obtained in national security investigations with the permission of a federal judge.

Yep. Terrorists do all their planning in libraries. Okay, fine, I'll buy it: maybe they do read up on explosives or piloting or whatever: fine. But read this sentence again: "If terrorists or spies use libraries, we should not allow them to become safe havens for their terrorist or clandestine activities." I'll ignore the awful writing with the gratuitious use of the word 'terrorist'. But is this not getting a bit close to: "Terrorists may use libraries, therefore, they can't be a safe haven for anyone."

On the next page, their "additional myths", which is much more comprehensive, there's this gem:

Fourth, we are dismantling the terrorist financial network. Already the United States Government has:

• Designated 40 terrorist organizations;

Yeah. Good job there with the designating, man. Whoo, designation!

I find it interesting, finally, the the cite for just about every "myth" is from either EPIC or the ACLU.

Seriously do not do the following:

Ways to annoy the ever-loving life out of your local MegaCineplex Theater (soulless division):
1. Get up to the box office and/or concession stand and start bitching about how expensive things are. Yes, I know they are expensive. I do not set the prices: I take your money, give you change, print tickets, and scoop popcorn out of large bins. Sorry, bucky: My $6.50/hr doesn't include listening to you bitch.

2. Stand in a long line at the concession stand and then start figuring out what you want. See all those people behind you? They might know what they want already. Get moving.

3. Try to convince me to give you a discount you're not entitled to, free soda, popcorn, or candy, or anything like that. Look: I'm a bad employee, I guess. I'll sell you a 12-and-under ticket if you look 14, even if it's a PG-13 movie. But a) see item 1 on this list, and b) I really have no reason to like you, and being a cheapskate kind of makes me *dislike* you. Plus, I need a paycheck, and you're really not worth getting fired over.

4. Speak very, very quietly, so I can't hear you.

5. Change your mind about six times about what you want at the concession stand. Make up your mind already!

6. Order about seventeen million things, including six chicken tender combos and nineteen hot-dogs, and do it chaotically, so that every five items or so I think you're done. Also, you've made me go to the one working Icee machine nine times.

7. Order an Icee. Especially a cherry Icee. They, due to some hellish chemical property of artificial, carbonated, frozen cherry flavoring, tend to rise, and therefore, overflow up out of the dome lid, and make a hellish mess which is, quite simply, a huge pain for all involved.

8. Be loud and annoying. Anywhere in my vicinity - even when I'm not working, come to think of it.

9. Make a cute comment about how bored/tired/etc. I look. It's not cute nor funny. Shut up, please.

10. Use my name. Yes, I'm wearing a nifty little name tag. No, this does not mean we're best buddies, nor does it mean we're even on a first name basis. I find it sort of creepy, actually, especially when you're a too-nice looking older man.

Tomorrow: Why the Patriot Act kind of sucks, part one of many.

I'm trying, hard, not to even think elitistly. But really: Johnnies are far more serious than the majority of people our age, I think. Whether or not this is a good thing, I'm still uncertain, but we're very serious, at least academically.

A funny word or two.

First of all, I'd like to introduce a new buddy of mine, Chuzzle. Not only is it fun to say ("Chuzzzzzzzzle!"), but it's fun to play. You're presented with a square playing field filled with a grid of Chuzzles, which appear to be cute, brightly-colored balls of fur and googly eyes. The squeak, and the object is to slide the rows in order to match up groups of three or more like-colored Chuzzles. They then pop or disintegrate or otherwise clear up space on the board for more Chuzzles. Their eyes, however, float or fly over off the board, to a nearby vial. For every set of Chuzzle peepers you fly over to the vial, the liquid level inside it rises. When you fill it, thereby signalling the end of that level, the vial is corked and violently shaken. This, apparently, triggers a violent reaction, which causes the cork to fly off and a stream of rainbow liquid to go shooting skyward, propelling dozens of fearless little Chuzzle eyeballs into the heavens.

I think it's possibly some sort of fuzzy-creature funeral rite reenactment. Or something. It's cute, though.

Another funny word is Wonka, as in, the chocolate folk and the Roald Dahl creation, soon to be played by Johnny Depp. At work, they're doing a concession tie-in, so one of the candy choices for combos is now a Wonka bar. I think that a human being has reached a very state of existence when they can spend a night offering people a Wonka anything and keep a straight face.

Customer Supidity, part X

I was working the main concession stand last night. An obxnoxious guy came up and got something. I say he was obnoxious becuase he was on his cell phone the entire time, and it pisses me off to no end. Even if I'm just a clerk/salesgirl/etc, I'm still a person, so please give me some modicum of respect, okay?

Anyway. He places his order and I snap at him questions (e.g., what type of soda? What size? Answer me, dammit!). Finally, he pays, and then pries his phone away from his ear, and asks the best question ever: "Are there phone chargers in the theaters?" I must have looked as stunned as I felt, because he quickly amended it: "Like, someplace I can plug my phone in?"

"Um, no."

Stories from Inside

The thing I like the most about any job, really, is learning the 'secrets' of the trade. Example: At the movie theater where I work (and presumably, most large cineplexes), the popcorn is actually made there. They've got two massive poppers and a constant stream of 50-pound bags of kernels. They pop them in back, in the kitchen, then load up the popped corn into a big plastic bag. That's taken to a storage room down the hall, and constantly throughout the day and evening, the big heater bins at the concession stand are refilled from these bags.

Along those lines (of 'secrets of the trade', not popcorn), I went to an intern lunch at the paper where I'm interning. Every two weeks or so (apparently), they get pizza for us, and a couple staff members (writer and editors) hang out with us in the conference room, eating pizza and talking with us about what it's like when you actually get paid for what you're doing. There were two seperate incidents mentioned in which one of the staff writers for the paper wrote an article about something, and then - due to other events - was summarily labelled as an "expert" by other media outlets, simply on the basis of the fact that they wrote a story about it. They, too, admitted to being guilty for doing it. Especially the local media: they'll take whatever they can get, slap on a label that's not an outright lie per se, and you'll likely never know the difference.

Which is why, of course, you should never believe anything you see in the media until you've read at least three agreeing but entirely-seperate sources.

And also, the next time I hear or see the phrase "terror attack", I may have to vomit. Forcefully. What the hell is a "terror attack"? Terrorist attack, maybe. But "terror attack" just - to me, anyway - sounds silly.

From the PATCO website:

Released: 7/7/2005

DRPA/PATCO SECURITY STATEMENT

Following the attacks on the London public transit system today, officials at the Delaware River Port Authority and PATCO High Speed Line at approximately 6:15 a.m. began to activate increased security at all DRPA facilities including the PATCO High Speed Line and the Benjamin Franklin, Walt Whitman, Commodore Barry and Betsy Ross bridges.

Our customers today are seeing increased police presence at all of our PATCO stations on the platforms, in the station lobbies and in parking lots as well as along the PATCO line. We have activated our K-9 Unit to patrol the PATCO line as well. In addition to the increased police visibility, DRPA has activated a number of security measures that will not be detected by the public.

We will continue to be in constant contact with law enforcement authorities both locally and nationally to keep up-to-the-minute on the situation as it develops.

Since September 11, 2001, DRPA and PATCO Police have been on high alert. We have increased the number of police officers, conducted several security drills and introduced a number of specialized police units such as the K-9 Unit to further our security efforts.

The Delaware River Port Authority is a regional transportation and development agency. DRPA owns and operates the Benjamin Franklin, Walt Whitman, Commodore Barry and Betsy Ross bridges, and the PATCO High Speed Line, the AmeriPort Intermodal Rail Center, the Philadelphia Cruise Terminal at Pier 1 and the RiverLink Ferry.

Number of police vehicles I saw outside PATCO stations today on my way both in and then back from the 15th street stop: 4.

Number of stops where I saw police vehicles: 1 (Ferry Ave, coming home).

Number of actual police officers I saw during the entire trip: 2

Number of actual police officers I saw at PATCO stations: 1, getting in his car to depart the Ferry Ave station.

I don't feel entirely safe on the SpeedLine, but that's becuase I'm an 18-year-old female and there are many crazy and/or not-kind people in this world. Some of them, who I've thankfully never encountered, would have no qualms about trying to alleviate my burden of my purse, wallet, MP3 player, or doing worse.

The reason that I don't feel safe has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that some lunatic, on their own or with a fringe group, could theoretically blow up the train. I'm certain they could do a substantial bit of damage, too, especially if they did so on the Ben Franklin bridge. However, why are we increasing security right now? I'm no expert but I do have common sense (which some government/military officials certainly seem to lack), and common sense tells me that a terrorist bombing in London does not in any way mean that someone is going to try to repeat that the next day in, say, Philly.

In Memoriam, I guess

1. Oklahoma
The picture on the front page that morning. There’s always a picture but today you don’t quite understand it. A building sort of, but like it was made out of putty and broken, roof sliding down into a gaping hole, rods sticking out like crazed coathangers in the messiest biggest closet ever.


2. Rabin
Not his death, but his funeral. Walking past the TV in the living room - back before mom and dad rearranged, back when it was still in that corner by the stairs. Someone left it on. Or maybe someone’s sitting there on the sofa, watching. Dad, maybe. You walk by and stop, suddenly, because you’re eight and it’s the first time you’ve seen something like this. You’ve been to a funeral, two maybe, one Jewish, but never a world leader. You grew up hearing every Sunday morning and Tuesday afternoon about Yitzhak Rabin, the peacemaker, Israeli hope. In your desk in those too-well air-conditioned classrooms, you worked half-heartedly through Hebrew primers and memorized traditions and learned about Jewish people. Perlman, the Marx brothers, Chagall, Rabin. Rabin stuck with you because Rabin did something. Rabin touched people and Rabin mattered.
You stare at the TV and now, ten, eleven years later you remember the casket, invisible, under the taught blue-and-white. A star in the center, somehow like a target. And you remember the men in green berets, security or an honor guard or something.
They all looked alike, really. Jews and Arabs. They were all tanned and all sad. You wondered if they were scared and you wondered if they went to the other funerals, the ones they told you all about on those Tuesday afternoons.

3. New York, Virginia, Pennsylvania
You’re a sophomore and it’s cool just because you’re not a freshman. It’s third-period US I, and Mr. Fields is talking about something which no longer matters, today. Then the beep of the PA, an apology for the interruption, and it begins. You’re sitting in the back, chair tilted up against the window, with that big support beam or pipe or whatever it is on your left. The principal talks, puts the radio up to the PA, and eventually leaves you to your thoughts. The class is blank still.
“How the hell do you follow that up?” Mr. Fields says. It’s not really a question. The sky above is blue like crystal and a lawnmower buzzes far away, way down the hill, maybe on the soccer practice field. You think of your dad and are glad he’s not working in Philly still, and think of your sister who’s out on an Air Force base in Colorado.
That afternoon you get home and the news is on, playing the same footage over and over, mostly New York. The towers - you were that, not that long ago - and the smoke. Black on blue. Then more smoke, dust, debris, and you know that the people up there can’t see anything. Nothing’s on but the news, so you go outside and shoot hoops, yourself. Nothing but the news on the radio. It’s stifling.

4. Columbia
Mom’s at a PTA convention for the weekend and Dad’s out, somewhere, by the time you get up. You get some toast and a cup of juice and sit down in front of the TV, on the futon, and every channel has the same thing: Bright blue sky with brighter white smoke. Red, yellow, warning colored banners at the bottom. Columbia and NASA. You sit and stare, because there’s nothing else you can do but sit and stare.

5. London
It gets you out of bed, when your alarm - tuned to NPR - comes to life with a British voice, not American. BBC special report. It takes a minute or two to sink in, because you were just asleep, but you hear bomb and bus and don’t know what to think. So you shower, and it washes away some of the confusion. It doesn’t hit you until you open your laptop and check the website. There’s something that once was a bus but isn’t, not anymore.
The numbers get higher. 2, then 5, then 10. You go to class and three hours later they’re saying 37. You listen to the radio in the car and then start scanning for music, because you’ve heard this all before.
It still feels fake.

My sympathies to London

The BBC says, as of now, that there have been 37 confirmed deaths in London: 35 from the subway explosions and two from a double-decker bus exploding. That's a major bummer, and my sympathies truly are with those involved and the whole of London.

We - we being the US - are probably a substantial part of why this happened to you and for that, I can only apologize and assure you that some of us here, too, are looking for true justice, not faux and illegal wars.

It's surreal how fast things change. This morning's edition of the Philly Inquirer showed a picture of Londoners rejoicing, overjoyed that their city had just beat Paris for the 2012 Olympic bid. I'd already heard about the bombings on radio, though, by the time I got to the paper. Tomorrow's headline will no doubt also be centered around London, but they'll be tragically different. Like that, the world changes drastically.

Happy "We beat up our supporters" day! Let's blow up a flag.

Whoo. Happy 4th, folks. Feel the Independence yet? Yeah, man, I dig it. Feel that liberty ring! All across the US, all across the world - hey, I can even hear faint echoes of it from Guantanamo, from Iraq, from Sudan, from Afghanistan....yeah, baby, listen to those American ideals!

I hate that phrase, with a passion: American ideals. What the hell does that mean? Freedom? Liberty? Justice for all? We don't own the patent to these, people. We didn't invent those concepts. Sure, a couple early American white guys wrote that all men are created equal in the eyes of god, but England outlawed the slave trade in 1807. We didn't do that until 1865, and it was three years more before we let black men claim American citizenship.

A substantial number of Americans have voted to prohibit the residents of their own state to wed on the basis of the fact that they don't like their choice of spouse. Just in the past year or so did the US Supreme court rule that no, the government - be it local, state, or federal - is not allowed to legislated what two consenting adults do in the privacy of their own bed. This, of course, didn't stop some ambitious members of congress (who were of course just looking out to defend the Christian ideals of this entirely Christian country) from trying to ammend the Constitution to restrict the rights of Americans who have done absolutely nothing wrong.

They're at it again, this time trying to chip away at the first amendment. For those who haven't checked out the basis of our government lately - and I think that rather than fireworks, the national 4th of July celebration standard ought to be a reading of the constitution - here it is, in all its glory, word-for-word:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people to peacably assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Proposed addition to the constitution: Let's outlaw flag-burning!

I think that that, even ignoring any and all legal precedent, is pretty clear. Congress cannot pass laws abridging the freedom of speech of American people. Congress cannot pass laws keeping people from assembling peacably. Congress cannot pass laws preventing Americans from petitioning - protesting - the government.

QED. A constitutional amendment criminalizing flag-burning would quite clearly violate the first amendment. I, for one, consider that first amendment, and the rest of the constitution and it's amendments, sacred. Many people have their sacred writings in some translation of the bible, new or old testament. Some have the Q'uran, some have Vedas and other writings, the Book of Mormon, and so on. Some of us have the Constitution. Let's not make it self-contradicting.

And I leave you with this thought: In the history of the Constitution, there has been one amendment passed limiting the rights of citizens, rather than protecting them. That was the 18th Amendment, which prohibited "...the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors..." in America. Note that this was fairly shortly afterwards repealed by the 21st amendment.

Historical precedent, hm?

Live what?

Live 8, for anyone who has perhaps spent the past year in a yurt in northern Siberia, is of course the massive worldwide series of concerts, a continuation of sorts of the original Live Aid, meant to raise awareness of the poverty and otherwise desperate conditions in much (most?) of Africa today.

I think it's awesome as a concert, and wish like nothing else I didn't have work today. If I didn't, I'd be down on the Parkway in Philly now, jamming with the expected million or so other folks. It's free and there are some big names there. Also, locally speaking, this concert - and the 4th of July weekend in general - this year will be spectacular for the city of Philadelphia. They're expecting huge, huge, huge numbers in the city this year, and that's going to (one assumes) pump a metric crapload of money into the city. Always a good thing.

Coolness aside, though, I think that Live 8 represents what's wrong with a lot of purported 'activism' today. Okay: a concert saying poverty is bad. First of all, everyone knows this, and no one's really saying, "Yay poverty!" Secondly, it's not doing anything. The concert isn't for-profit. They're not, as far as I know, even organized in taking donations. A lot of other groups are piggybacking on the concert, however, the actual concert itself is possibly being counter-productive. "Oh, yeah, I'm all anti-globalization, anti-G8, anti-whatever. See? I have a Live 8 T-shirt, I was there. Proof that I care, you know?" But it's not proof of anything, other than that you went to a free concert. It's surface, feel-good activism.

On the other hand, there is the chance that it'll grab someone out there in the crowd. They'll go to a free concert, but something - something Will Smith says (of all the unlikely political activists!) - will hit them just the right way, and they'll do something real. Stranger things have happened.

Supreme Court justice Sandra Day O'Connor has announce her plans to resign. It's possible that Rehnquist will follow in her footsteps soon, as he's currently battling cancer.

I predict ugliness ahead. Severe ugliness, in fact. Owing mostly due to the fact that we live in an ever-increasingly partisan country, and also the fact that most senators and representatives - regardless of party affiliation - are boobs.

Public Sleeping?

As promised, Tales of CCC.

I'm taking a public speaking course this summer. Now, let me say this before anything else: I've gone into it with a perfectly open mind. I acknowledged that, yes, seeing how I've spent the past five years of my life esconced in the soothingly geeky bubbles of IB at West, and St. John's, a summer-session public speaking course at community college may - perhaps - be slightly different from what I'm used to.

Yep. It's different all right.

For one, there's no discussion, at all. People ask questions and the professor responds; the professor asks questions and students respond. Then, the exchange ends. There's no ongoing discussion, no one ever really builds off of what someone else just said. It's a very concrete explanation of ideas, little more.

Also, the professor is nuttier than a Snickers bar. Yesterday, she spent ten minutes with a charade-like metaphor for organizing your ideas. This metaphor consister of her miming as if she were throwing various hats across the room into a big pile. Then she retrieved her invisible hatrack from the hallway, and organized all her hats according to how frequently she used them, put her scarf with her ski cap, and so forth. The whole thing took, as I said, about ten minutes, most of which found us (the class) sitting there slack-jawed in bewilderment, unsure if we should be laughing, and murmuring, "What the hell is this?"

In other news: big thunderstorm tonight at the very end of my 7-hour shift at the theater. Just in time for me to walk to my car in the rain. Thanks.