Rambling Rhodes

Liveblogging my last day in my 20s

9:00 a.m. -- Today, Feb. 28, 2005, marks my last day as a young man in his 20s. I'll be liveblogging this event as it unfolds, so be sure to check back regularly.

9:09 a.m. -- I shave my head because I'd be bald anyways. It's taken me until just about now to not care about that any more.

9:30 a.m. -- When I was 20 years old, I worked in the meat department of my hometown grocery store during the weekends. I made $5 an hour. I make a lot more than that now.

10 a.m. -- On my 21st birthday, I went bar-hopping around Winona, Minnesota. I got a birthday glass from Brothers Bar and Grill. I still have the glass. . . somewhere.

10:35 a.m. -- When I was 22, I had the longest relationship (one year) with a girl up until my current girlfriend. My 22nd was probably one of the most enjoyable summers of my college years. Her name was Jerusha, and I broke up with her the following summer, in a move I regretted on and off for a few years afterwards. I hope she's doing well and is insanely happy.

11:20 a.m. -- Also when I was 22, in December, I quit my job as a meat department worker at a Winona grocery store I was hired at the Winona Daily News at $5.50 an hour. I worked Tuesdays and Thursdays, from 6 p.m. to 10 p.m., writing obituaries, rewriting police and fire department reports, flowing stock market results into a Quark XPress file, and boiling down press releases. Once a month, I think, I also had to write out court rulings, which was a fascinating window into the lives of local citizens; I learned a lot about who got nailed for speeding, DUI, NSF checks and on and on and on. It was always great to find someone I knew in those reports, and then I'd call them and mercilessly taunt them. Good times. Good times. Except for the pay. That sucked.

1 p.m. -- I graduated from college at 23, following five years of higher eduction, referred to by me and my friends as my "Five Year Plan." I graduated with a mass communications/journalism major and a history minor. I have since been working in some capacity or another in print-related fields, what some people would refer to as my "phony baloney street cred," or, alternately, my "folksy wisdom."

1:22 p.m. -- If I get married in my 30s, it's my sincerest hope that my bride will decide to wear something sensible and fashionable. You know, something like this:

How was the wedding? Tramp-tacular!

2:10 p.m. -- I worked the summer after my graduation at the Winona Daily News as a full-fledged reporter, making a whopping $6 an hour. That was the summer of, like, three huge thunderstorms that absolutely destroyed areas of southeastern Minnesota. That meant grueling, long hours, follow-up stories and all sorts of other reporting that just about put me on the breaking point. After August, the woman I was covering for, who was on maternity leave, returned to the paper, so I was out of a job. I was then unemployed for four months, searching for journalism-related jobs. I spent many consecutive evenings sipping Bacardi and Coke while playing Caesar III. I also read The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich and 1984, as well as others I can't remember right now.

3 p.m. -- Come January of 1999, I finally landed a job at a weekly newspaper called The Stewartville Star. The owners smoked. I mean, they SMOKED. One cigarette after another after another. Which, you know, come ON people, this is a newspaper. Lots of flammable materials all over the place. At that job, I was responsible for EVERYTHING, from school board meetings, to city council meetings, to soft news features to photography. I did it all. I do miss the darkroom photo development hours. I enjoyed that. I still write a humor column for the Star, and I've won a first place award and a runner-up award for my work in that area. Didn't win anything this year though, dammit.

4:30 p.m. -- I'm really glad Million Dollar Baby won Best Picture. Totally deserved it.

I'm Blog People

So, I was just surfing Instapundit before going to work, and I was steered towards this ridiculous piece of buffoonery. And, because Nick Coleman today is apparently lamenting the demise of brewery letters, of all things, I decided to fisk this instead.

Revenge of the Blog People!
By Michael Gorman -- 2/15/2005

Already my fingers are twitching, like an Old West gunfighter about to take out the town drunk in a showdown.

A blog is a species of interactive electronic diary by means of which the unpublishable, untrammeled by editors or the rules of grammar, can communicate their thoughts via the web.

Helloooo? Freedom of speech? First Amendment? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Last I checked, the First Amendment didn't have any caveats in there about requiring editors or even grammar. You'd think a Dean of Library Services would know that, but. . .

(Though it sounds like something you would find stuck in a drain, the ugly neologism blog is a contraction of "web log.") Until recently, I had not spent much time thinking about blogs or Blog People.

And we Blog People, in turn, didn't spend much time thinking about Michael Gorman (the last name Gorman sounding similar to the "urp" that would preceed projectile vomiting, as long as we're trading barbs here).

McGoogle
I had heard of the activities of the latter and of the absurd idea of giving them press credentials (though, since the credentials were issued for political conventions, they were just absurd icing on absurd cakes).

You know, I'm wondering if Michael Gorman may, in fact, be an alias for one Nick Coleman. So, issuing press credentials to bloggers for the conventions was absurd, eh? That's fascinating, seeing as how some of the best reporting coming out of the conventions that I read came from BLOGGERS.

I was not truly aware of them until shortly after I published an op-ed piece in the Los Angeles Times ("Google and God's Mind," December 17, 2004). Then, thanks to kind friends with nothing but my welfare in mind, I rapidly learned more about the blog subcultures.

Uh, oh, sounds like Mr. Gorman found himself on the receiving end of a blog swarm and simply couldn't take it. Just a guess.

My piece had the temerity to question the usefulness of Google digitizing millions of books and making bits of them available via its notoriously inefficient search engine.

"Notoriously inefficient search engine? Let's see. . . I'm gonna go out to Google and type in "Michael Gorman". . . and. . . huh, fascinating. Jeez, I wish everything in life was so damningly inefficient.

The Google phenomenon is a wonderfully modern manifestation of the triumph of hope and boosterism over reality. Hailed as the ultimate example of information retrieval, Google is, in fact, the device that gives you thousands of "hits" (which may or may not be relevant) in no very useful order.

Unless, say, you do a search on "Michael Gorman" and get exactly what you're looking for on the first freaking try. I didn't read Gorman's piece about Google, but if this stuff is any indication, it's no wonder the evil blog subculture tore him a new A-hole. He probably deserved it. From the looks of it, Gorman probably wants Google to reorganize itself under the Dewey Decimal System, in which case I'd probably still be trying to find "Michael Gorman."

Digitized books
Those characteristics are ignored and excused by those who think that Google is the creation of "God's mind," because it gives the searcher its heaps of irrelevance in nanoseconds. Speed is of the essence to the Google boosters, just as it is to consumers of fast "food," but, as with fast food, rubbish is rubbish, no matter how speedily it is delivered.

Yes, the world would be far better served if Google consisted of wheeled ladders and wispy-bearded octogenarians who shuffle their way amidst a sea of books and take roughly 8 million years to find the information you seek. Slow down, Google; take your time. Smell the roses. See what you're missing. You young whippersnapper, with all your fast newfangled techNOloGEE.

In the eyes of bloggers, my sin lay in suggesting that Google is OK at giving access to random bits of information but would be terrible at giving access to the recorded knowledge that is the substance of scholarly books.

Based on what evidence, exactly? I mean, seriously, RANDOM BITS OF INFORMATION? Let's see what pops up when I Google, say, "United States Constitution". . . Oh, the sheer, terrifying RANDOMNESS! Random BITS, no less. Jeezum crow. The very first thing to pop up is a link to the entire text of the Constitution, and that's a random bit of information? Under that reasoning, could I please have a random bit of a million dollars?

I went further and came up with the unoriginal idea that the thing to do with a scholarly book is to read it, preferably not on a screen.

Or, better yet, perhaps give people the CHOICE to read the book, or read it online. I know, I know, I'm just talking crazy here. It's a Friday.

It turns out that the Blog People (or their subclass who are interested in computers and the glorification of information) have a fanatical belief in the transforming power of digitization and a consequent horror of, and contempt for, heretics who do not share that belief.

No, that's not necessarily true. We have a belief in the transforming power of digitization and a horror and contempt for people who turn around and call us names, like Blog People. And we have a horror and contempt for people who don't apparently understand the concepts of free speech and a free exchange of ideas and debate. See the difference? Gah.

How could I possibly be against access to the world's knowledge? Of course, like most sane people, I am not against it and, after more than 40 years of working in libraries, am rather for it.

So long as it unfolds as per the dictates of Michael Gorman, apparently.

I have spent a lot of my long professional life working on aspects of the noble aim of Universal Bibliographic Control—a mechanism by which all the world's recorded knowledge would be known, and available, to the people of the world. My sin against bloggery is that I do not believe this particular project will give us anything that comes anywhere near access to the world's knowledge.

Ah, yes, because if it can't be conclusively proven that something will be a 100 percent success, there's no point in even trying. Because, attempting to digitize the world's books won't necessarily achieve the goal of imparting ALL of the world's knowledge, well, let's just sit on our hands here. Look, of course Google can't provide access to every bit of information in the world. The point is to try and provide as much access to information as it possibly can. If you can come up with something that's wrong with that, go ahead and try to convince me. I'm betting you won't be able to.

Who are the Blog People?
It is obvious that the Blog People read what they want to read rather than what is in front of them and judge me to be wrong on the basis of what they think rather than what I actually wrote.

Those damned Blog People, with their lousy opinions on things. *shaking fist* How dare they read what they want! Don't they know that they should be reading only what Michael Gorman wants?!

Given the quality of the writing in the blogs I have seen, I doubt that many of the Blog People are in the habit of sustained reading of complex texts.

There you go, Mike. When you're up against the ropes, facts stacked sky high against you, what better way to fight back than to call your critics stoooopid? That's a Nick Coleman tactic. Congratulations! You are now a writer on par with Nick Coleman. *shuddder*

It is entirely possible that their intellectual needs are met by an accumulation of random facts and paragraphs. In that case, their rejection of my view is quite understandable.

So, not only are they stoooopid, they're stoooopid because of Google. This guy really is something else. Thin skin? Check. Reactionary? Check. Clueless about the First Amendment? Check.

At least two of the blog excerpts sent to me (each written under pseudonyms) come from self-proclaimed "conservatives," which I find odd because many of the others come from people who call me a Luddite and are, presumably, technology-obsessed progressives.

First off, why does it even remotely matter if someone writes under a pseudonym? Mark Twain was a pseudonym, for crying out loud. Second off, why does it even remotely matter if someone is a "self-proclaimed conservative" or a "technology-obsessed progressive?" Political leanings just don't factor in on a debate such as this. That whole paragraph was an obfuscation of the debate at hand. Why would Gorman do that? Oh, right, because he's WRONG.

The Luddite label is because my mild remarks have been portrayed as those of someone worried about the job security of librarians (I am not) rather than one who has a different point of view on the usefulness of this latest expression of Google hubris and vast expenditure of money involved.

Okay, I have to say, "Google Hubris" would be a great name for a rock band. Aside from that, more and more I'm getting the vibe here that Gorman is just mad that people, apparently A LOT of people, disagree with him.

I'm no Antidigitalist

See also: I'm nobody's monkey.

If a fraction of the latter were devoted to buying books and providing librarians for the library-starved children of California, the effort would be of far more use to humanity and society.

This just keeps getting better. First Gorman states that he's not worried about librarian job security, and then he turns around and laments a lack of libraries in California. And "library-starved children" to boot. Won't somebody please think of the children?!! One imagines California children, their cranial skin stretched taut around their library-depleted brains. Google should just stop this ill-advised idiocy and start building California libraries immediately! Seriously, is this guy channeling Nick Coleman?

Perhaps that latter thought will reinforce the opinion of the Blog Person who included "Michael Gorman is an idiot" in his reasoned critique, because no opinion that comes from someone who is "antidigital" (in the words of another Blog Person) could possibly be correct.

Keep in mind here that in this "reasoned critique" by Gorman, he has already basically called bloggers dumb and uninformed, and labeled us Blog People in a not-too-thinly-veiled attempt to equate us with stumbling, brainless zombies. And he has the temerity to take umbrage with people calling him an idiot and antidigital? Dude, buy a clue.

For the record, though I may have associated with Antidigitalists, I am not and have never been a member of the Antidigitalist party and would be willing to testify to that under oath. I doubt even that would save me from being burned at the virtual stake, or, at best, being placed in a virtual pillory to be pelted with blogs. Ugh!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author Information
Michael Gorman, president-elect of the American Library Association, is Dean of Library Services, Madden Library, California State University, Fresno.

That's it. It's official. This was a Nick Coleman column. That last paragraph clinched it. There can be no question about it. Seriously, though, my advice to Gorman is to grow a thicker skin so he can deal better with criticism. Especially out here in the blogosphere where debate, shall we say, can be pretty hot.

Then, I seriously suggest Gorman should brush up on the United States Constitution, with particular emphasis on the First Amendment.

I'm sure he could Google it.

UPDATE: You know, I'm now here at work, and I feel great after that fisking. It's truly refreshing to use my blog to rip on people who rip on blogs.

It's also refreshing to post pictures of breast cupping.

*Homer Simpson Drool*

And here I've been using my thumb and forefinger like a fool.

Via.

Mayo Talk

Ryan says: So, I buy this big honking sub sandwich at the cafeteria.

Ryan says: I check under the hood, so to speak, and verify that it does, indeed, have mayonaisse on it.

Ryan says: No problem, I think. I just won't eat the top bread.

Ryan says: I get it back to the office and, just out of curiosity, I check the bottom slice of bread.

Ryan says: There's more freakin' mayo on the bottom than on the top.

Ryan says: Entire sandwich. Ruined.

Evelyn says: Have you ever heard of a knife?

Evelyn says: They can be used to scrape things off bread you know.

Ryan says: You can't knife mayo off of shredded lettuce.

Evelyn says: Ditch the lettuce

Ryan says: The mayo had squished its way onto all the sandwich fixings. Nothing was spared.

Ryan says: Sandwich goes into trash. Ryan goes hungry.

Evelyn says: Oh for crying out loud. You know whtat I'd tell Holden at this point?

Ryan says: Do I look like Holden?

Evelyn says: No, but there are similiarities.

Ryan says: Yeah, we both disagree with you.

Evelyn says: that's one

Ryan says: Difference is, I'm 29 and outside of your jurisdiction.

Evelyn says: Not really.

Ryan says: If you took employment action on me because of me ditching a mayo-infused sandwich, I'd have to develop an entirely different viewpoint about you.

Evelyn says: Really, you think that's outside the confines of our business relationship, huh?

Ryan says: I'd have to check the employment contract, but I tend to think the law's on my side here.

Evelyn says: Yeah, you're probably right. Mayo-infusion isn't covered in the contract.

Evelyn says: You know, you can make your own sandwiches in the cafeteria.

Ryan says: Trust me. From now on, I'm going to. But the cheese was all nice and melted on the sub.

Ryan says: It was calling to me, in that sweet siren song of the sub.

Evelyn says: Life can be so challenging sometimes.

Evelyn says: You should have at least offered the sub to someone who doesn't hate mayo, like Doug.

Ryan says: I was blinded by a hungry rage. I didn't think ahead.

Evelyn says: You're funny.

ass.cult

Via reader Etienne, I was made aware of something just a tad disconcerting.

As Etienne pointed out, be sure to scroll all the way to the bottom of the page. I don't speak Italian, and now I'm not sure I ever want to.

Fish + Barrel

JB Doubtless, of the blog Fraters Libertas, did a little fisking of a recent Rochester Post-Bulletin article (registration required and, really, who pays for online news?).

I don't know how familiar the Fraters guys are with the Post-Bulletin but, guys, this kind of article isn't uncommon coming from the P-B. They once ran a front page, weekend edition piece about a cat that had been torched by some unknown local youths. Really. I got into a little drama because of that.

At any rate, the P-B is a good local newspaper, but its local reporting can often consist of content that would make readers from larger communities think "WTF?" Point being, if you're going to fisk P-B content, you'd better get comfy, because it can often be a rich fisking arena. Just so you know.

Oh, and the P-B does have a free blog, in case you want to mix it up in the comment box. They still believe that an unbiased and objective media can actually exist, which I think is just the cutest, quaintest thing ever.

Just Being Polite

For the record, I've never heard anyone in Minnesota say "bet your bippy."

Best. Opera. Ever.

Holy crap. This one was just plain genius.

Shaping Young Minds

One of the sure signs you're getting older is when you're asked to speak about your profession at an elementary or middle school. When you're in college, people don't ask you to come and speak about partying and keg stands, but once you're out of college, in the real world, people start assuming you might have something useful to say.

So it was, yesterday, I found myself standing in front of a bunch of elementary and middle school students, trying to explain the rudimentary process involved in fiction writing. Seeing as how I write non-fiction primarily, this meant that I spent a considerable amount of time basically lying to America's youth.

Okay, "lying" is a pretty strong word. Let's say, instead, that I "struggled to put forth useful information." I stood in front of a class of 8th graders at 8:30 a.m., trying my damndest to sound authoritative and, by God, I think they bought it.

I was an 8th grader once. For a whole year, in fact. And, I honestly don't remember being at all like the 8th graders I stood in front of yesterday. In an inspired moment on my part, I had the class brainstorming possible characters. Imagine my surprise when this group of 8th graders invented a duo of drunken leprechauns with a not-too-thinly-veiled homosexual relationship burbling beneath the surface.

After the 8th graders, I spoke to a group of 6th graders. For this group, I had them invent a couple characters, as a class, and then I had them write, individually, about an adventure the characters embarked on. After five minutes, I had them pass their stories to the right, and the next person had to add to the existing storyline. To say the results were bizarre would be a dire understatement.

There were a few bright points, however. For example, there was the couple that bought Michael Jackson's house and, while they were cleaning the house, they found Jackson's nose. There was also one student who was more than just a little excited to relate a tale that revolved heavily around the antics of a midget. Because, you know, midget short stories are always gold.

The brainstorming in the 5th grade class later in the afternoon was even more amazing to me. Here I had a huge class of 5th graders who were talking about a couple that got into a car crash and then got divorced. One student even talked, quite frankly, about the husband coming home to find his wife in bed with another man. These children were tomorrow's soap opera writers, I was sure of it.

Overall, yesterday was a draining day. It was honestly one of the hardest days of "work" I've had in years. I can't for the life of me figure out how teachers do it. After an 8:30 a.m. to 3:15 p.m. stint of speaking to over 200 students, I wanted a nap worse than at any time in my life.

But, I earned $200 for it, so there's that.

Watch

Million Dollar Baby

I'm still feeling depressed, but I'm glad I watched it.

What the hell?

From the letters to the editor in today's Star-Tribune:

An early draft of a greeting

Memo to prospective Vikings owner Reggie Fowler:

Congratulations! By the way, I invented the word "congratulations." You can use it any time you want.

Pat Proft, Wayzata.

Discuss.

Blood & Tears

When I was very young, so young, in fact, I can't even really place a year on how old I was, I slit my wrist open.

It wasn't intentional, mind you. I wasn't a suicidal toddler, or anything like that. It was just one of those freakish series of events that forever burns its way into the formative brain of a youth.

My mother, who was typically a hawk when it came to watching me, had to run an errand, which meant a quick walk uptown and a quick walk back. Total time of absence? Fifteen minutes, tops, which in toddler time is about four and a half hours. But, I was watching TV at the time, so my mother figured she was safe.

No sooner had the door closed behind her, I was busy getting myself into trouble, and I didn't even know it.

As I sat there, watching TV, I became aware that my tiny hand and wrist were the perfect size to slide under the couch. For some reason, this delighted me to no end. I started sliding my hand, palm-side up, under the couch and then bringing it back out.

I was searching, of course, for any lost toys that may have snuck under there but, also, I just thought it was kind of fun.

That is until my encounter with a carpenter's staple.

I encountered the staple towards the corner of the couch, where carpenter's staples abound. Apparently, this particular staple had a loose end, and that loose end was pointing down and slightly inward, not unlike a shark's tooth. So, although my hand slid effortlessly beneath the couch on the way in, when I tried to pull it out. . . boy howdy!

The staple punctured my right wrist at almost exactly the dead center, right smack on top of the main tendon. For my tiny toddler wrist, that staple may just as well have been a steak knife.

Naturally, I panicked. I tried to yank my hand out which, of course, just drove the staple deeper. I tried to wiggle my hand out which, of course, had an effect not unlike a dull saw. So, I did what any child would do when confronted with pain and mild shock: I screamed and cried bloody murder.

When screaming and crying failed to rectify the situation, I mustered every last bit of toddler strength I could to lift the corner of the couch, just enough so I could slip that staple out of my wrist and get it the hell out from under the couch.

It wasn't a major or bad cut in my wrist, but it WAS deep, and the staple had, apparently, punctured something important because, man, there was a serious amount of blood being spurted to and fro. Each beat of the heart sent another miniature crimson geyser up and out of the cut.

I didn't know first aid, but something in my young mind told me that A.) I had to stop the bleeding, and B.) because mom was going to be furious about all the blood on the floors.

I ran to the bathroom and unspooled an entire roll of toilet paper, which I then applied to my gushing wrist. I was then faced with a difficult decision.

My mother had told me that she would be back soon, and that I wasn't to leave the house. That was one side of the coin. The other side of the coin was that I didn't want to die all alone in the house. Okay, I wasn't really afraid of dying, but I was extremely scared by all the blood. I had never seen so much blood come out of my body and, young though I was, there was a part of me that knew I had a finite supply of blood, and I was afraid of running out.

So, I decided to leave the house and see if I could locate my mother. Surely she could kiss this thing and make it all better. The thing with my small hometown is that it's really not that big. You can get to pretty much any point in town with a ten minute walk. Of course, for a toddler, it's about the biggest metropolis imaginable. Still, I knew enough of the town to know which route my mother had most likely taken.

Sure enough, about a block into my journey, I saw my mom coming towards me. I was extremely relieved to see her, but I imagine she was pretty well horrified to see me, what with the wad of blood-soaked toilet paper on my wrist and my incessant, terrified bawling.

At that point, I can't really remember what transpired. Once I transferred all concerns over to the mother auto-pilot, things just kind of went hazy.

Either that, or I passed out due to loss of blood, which I guess is possible.

Randoms

So, I'm sitting here, trying to figure out why I'm getting so many routine visits from the Fabulous Mint 400. Yet, try as I might, I just can't find out where they're linking to me. Until I look up at the damned picture on the upper right. Thanks, guys.

Oh, and via Shot In The Dark, I located this little bit of inexplicable weirdness. Let's all work together, and think really hard about Salma Hayek joining me in my bed tonight, and see if we can't make a little magic happen. I'll report on it tomorrow, I promise.

Sometimes, you have to wonder if animal rights activists have entirely too much time on their hands. To help with the clean-up after 300,000 dead, I'd use humpback whales if I could.

Hey, look! 100 jokes!

If you're a Rochester, Minn. resident, and you hate that the Post-Bulletin Web site is a pay-only venue, you can still visit their new blog. Yeah, "Honk" is kind of a dorky name for it, but what are you gonna do?

Oh, and because I promised her referrals when I could, here's a shout-out to the best realtor in Rochester, Minn., Debbie Quimby. I'm approaching the one year anniversary since I first put a bid on my house, so this seems appropriate.

I Just Read A Joke, And It Made Me Laugh

Saul is working in his store when he hears a booming voice from above: "Saul, sell your business." He ignores it.

It goes on for days. "Saul, sell your business for $3 million." After weeks of this, he relents, sells his store.

The voice says ‘Saul, go to Las Vegas." He asks why. "Saul, take the $3 million to Las Vegas."

He obeys, goes to a casino. Voice says, "Saul , go to the blackjack table and put it down all on one hand." He hesitates but knows he must.

He’s dealt an 18. The dealer has a six showing. "Saul, take a card." What? The dealer has -- "Take a card!" He tells the dealer to hit him. Saul gets an ace. Nineteen. He breathes easy.

"Saul, take another card." What? "TAKE ANOTHER CARD!" He asks for another card. It’s another ace. He has twenty.

"Saul, take another card," the voice commands. I have twenty! Saul shouts. "TAKE ANOTHER CARD!!" booms the voice.

Hit me,Saul says. He gets another ace. Twenty one.

The booming voice goes: "un-fucking-believable!"

Why I Love The Internet

You can watch a conclusion being jumped to in real time, and then go back and consult the conclusion jump at your leisure.

Oh, and yes, I do think the headline: Iran: Blast came during dam job. . . is pretty funny.

Monkey + computer = Nick Coleman Column

Just for the record, I never much liked Red McCombs as the Vikings owner. His continued "hints" about moving the team out of Minnesota, mostly as an attempt to strongarm Minnesota to foot the bill for a new stadium, irritated me more than just a little bit. But, as you know, what irritates me infinitely more is Nick Coleman. So. . . .

Reggie Fowler is the new owner of the Minnesota Vikings -- pending approval by the NFL. But while the football czars wait to see if Fowler's $625 million check clears the bank, we might as well get started on educating Mr. Fowler about his new state, which he admits knowing very little about.

So much disdain packed into such a small paragraph. Those vile "football czars," and how dare Fowler not know much about Minnesota. He needs some edu-ma-cating.

Acknowledging ignorance puts him miles ahead of the outgoing owner of the Vikings, Red McCombs, the San Antonio tire kicker who leaves us after seven years as miserably ignorant of our customs as when he arrived.

Yeah, because it's the duty of every major league sports team owner to learn the customs of the state. If you're going to attack McCombs about anything, it should be his continued insistence of the necessity of a new stadium, despite a team that monumentally disappointed the fans in 1998 and then basically underperformed ever since then. You don't get a new Mustang when you consistently crash your Pinto, backwards, into the same damned tree every week.

He also leaves about half a billion richer than when he came here, which is a pretty good endorsement for the idea of studied stupidity: If staying dumb as a post is worth that much money, old Red deserves some respect.

Dear Mr. Coleman, if studied stupidity means making half a billion dollars, I hereby volunteer to have half my brain removed. Say what you want about McCombs, but the man just waltzed away with a LOT of money. I'd call Red a lot of things, but stupid and/or dumb would not be among the adjectives I'd hand out. Sleazy? Yes. Dumb? No way.

Now get out of town, McCombs. And don't let the Iowa state line hit you in the rear end.

Sometimes I really wonder. . . does Coleman actually think he's funny? Do other people actually think he's funny? If so, why? Discuss.

Is he really gone? Man, that feels good. We owe it all to you, Mr. Fowler. Your house landed on Wicked Old Red and we here in Munchkin Land are very grateful.

I just. . . I just. . . I just can't see how this man continues to write for the biggest newspaper in Minnesota, and I use the term "write" very loosely here. He snatches metaphors out of the air that no other writer on the planet would even consider toying with. Most writers would stop and think: hmmm, should I really equate Minnesota with the fanciful world in the Wizard of Oz? For that matter, should I equate Minnesotans with Munchkins? If you're Nick Coleman, the answer is a resounding "YES!"

In order to show you our appreciation, let us begin by offering 21 survival tips for the road ahead:

Didn't the ever-plodding Coleman promise to get to this way back in the first paragraph? Not that he's known for getting to a point with any haste or anything. I'm just sayin'.

1) Stay away from the State Capitol. That's the big building with the mules on top in St. Paul, which is a hockey town and which is where millionaire football and baseball owners end up mumbling to themselves and looking like they have escaped from a padded room. If, on some occasion, common courtesy requires you to be introduced to a legislator, stay alert: If he puts an arm around you, don't leave without checking for your wallet.

It's kind of like having a big bucket of spit poured on you, isn't it? Still warm and everything. Again with the disdain for the gold-plated horses atop the Capitol building. What does the man have against those horses? And, truly, you can't swing a dead cat without hitting a millionaire football and/or baseball owner at the Capitol. It's TRUE! They even have their own designated bathroom. And, be sure to notice how he just basically slandered every Minnesota legislator by calling them pickpocketing thieves. No evidence to back up such a remark, mind you, but since when has that ever stopped Coleman.

2) Speaking of St. Paul, watch for signs while driving that indicate you have crossed into St. Paul. When in St. Paul, do not call it "Minneapolis." We don't need more Packers fans.

What, exactly, does Coleman even MEAN here? Is he trying to be funny again? Do YOU think it's funny? If so, why? Discuss.

3) Find a nanny for Randy Moss. A big, mean nanny who can put him to bed without his supper when he acts up. A better option: Get rid of him.

Moss is a PR pain in the butt. Can't deny that. But when you have guys like quarterback Daunte Culpepper on the team, who recently gave a disabled boy a $75,000 diamond necklace, and then sheepishly went and asked for it back after the staged ceremony was over, I don't tend to think much of the Minnesota Vikings, specifically, and professional athletes, generally. Moss is arguably the most dangerous receiving threat in the NFL, and Coleman wants to get rid of him? And he thinks McCombs is stupid? Gah.

4) Put some clothes on the cheerleaders. The kids are watching.

Damned near naked, they are. Has Coleman ever even BEEN to a beach? Sometimes I wonder if Coleman isn't happy unless he's taking issue with pretty much everything. For my part, let me just say, I love the Vikings cheerleaders. For the last five years, they've been the best part of the team.

5) Keep your nose out of politics. Your predecessor made every Democrat football fan in Minnesota swear a blue streak when Coach Mike Tice presented a Vikings jersey to the Republican president at the height of last fall's election campaign. Bad timing: The team tanked after that, the state wound up in the Democratic column and Moss mooned Green Bay.

Ummmmm, Nick? I don't think the team's tanking had, oh, say, ANYTHING to do with that. Was it ill-advised? Sure. But, as for the state ending up in the Democratic column? Dude, I KNOW you know how to Google. Minnesota is not suddenly NEW to the Democratic column. It's pretty much been in the Democratic column since as long as I can recall, and certainly before Tice presented Bush with a jersey.

Also, I thought it was freakin' hysterical when Moss fake-mooned Green Bay.

6) Dump Tice.

And hire, who, exactly? Typical Nick Coleman jab. "Dump this, and dump that, and. . . I have no idea what to do after that, but the dumping, that's priority one." I imagine that Coleman's solution to a bug splat on a windshield is to buy a new windshield. Or, wait, better yet, a new car.

7) Return Sid Hartman's calls.

I'm not sure what that means.

8) Tell him nothing.

I'm not sure what that means.

9) Get a fishing license. Minnesotans cozy up to new arrivals pretty easily, but you can help yourself along by getting a little fishing boat and taking the kids out on the lake to wet a line. Save the big yacht for the St. Croix, and stay below decks.

Yeah, because Nick Coleman is all about cozying up to new arrivals, following his original "know nothing" barb from paragraph one. Truthfully, Minnesotans would probably give a shit less if Fowler gets a fishing license. Now, if the Vikings actually pop their heads out of their butts and play football next year, then Minnesotans would probably give a shit. But, fishing? Ehhhhhhh. Also notice the obligatory Nick Coleman barb against those who are financially well off, what with their naughty big yachts and all. They should stay below decks, probably in shame for their success, or something.

10) Only catch crappies. Avoid walleye, the state fish. Bud Grant got up to his gills in the never-ending walleye controversies in this state and he has been driven mad. Hint: You can buy good Canadian walleye (or a pretender called zander) at the restaurant. Better yet, eat steak.

I have no idea what that paragraph even means, or why the editors didn't just cut this out entirely.

11) Don't mention the Year of Our Lord 2011 until New Year's Eve 2010. Your team is locked in to play football in the Metrodome until 2011, and we will turn against you faster than we turned on the cantankerous Texas car salesman if you start blowing smoke about what the Vikings can or cannot do before then. You pays your $625 million and you takes your chances.

Apparently, this is what Coleman means when he talks about cozying up to new arrivals. Start accusing early, that's Coleman's motto.

12) If you want to talk about a new stadium, fine and dandy. Just make sure that it's a new University of Minnesota stadium you are pushing for. The Vikings were part of the cabal that forced the Gopher football team into the Dome, and the Vikings will have to support undoing that boneheaded move before you get your ch'i back.

So, Fowler is hereby guilty by association and has lost all claims to his "ch'i" until further notice.

13) Buy some defense.

No argument here. And, yes, I know that this means I actually agree with Coleman about something. I feel like a need a bath and a shave.

14) Stay out of the locker room unless they ask for more towels or cold champagne is being sprayed.

Yeah, can't have those filthy owners mingling with the players. Not unless they win it all, dad-gummit.

15) Tell Daunte Culpepper not to lend his car to anyone.

Huh? Oh. Ha, ha? But, wait a minute, isn't Fowler supposed to avoid mingling with players? I'm so confused here.

16) Learn 12-step lingo. And no more Viking winter "blasts" unless they are held at Hazelden. Better idea: Mandatory winter getaways at Hazelden.

I have no idea what this even means.

17) Avoid spicy foods. Avoid strong language. Avoid all unpleasantness.

It's Minnesota custom to avoid spicy foods? Who knew? I'm in total violation of that custom, it seems. Avoid strong language? Is this fucking for real? Avoid all unpleasantness? Such as, say, reading a Nick Coleman column, perhaps? But, yeah, avoid all unpleasantness, Nick, and. . . oh, wait: Now get out of town, McCombs. And don't let the Iowa state line hit you in the rear end.

18) Take blood pressure medication.

Unless, you know, you don't NEED to.

Now, I warn you, readers, the next bit of Coleman's column is a bit rambling, even for Nick. You can't say I didn't warn you. Drum roll, please. . .

19) Show respect to our Nordic heritage by trying not to gag on lutefisk. Fix the decrepit Viking longboat in front of Winter Park. Not even an Iowegian bullhead fisherman would be caught dead in that cruddy thing. Put up a replica of the Kensington Runestone alongside it. The runestone is a rock that was carved by a Minnesota farmer to make it seem like eight Goths and 22 Norwegians came to Minnesota in A.D. 1362 -- three years before the last time the Vikings were in the Super Bowl. But the Norwegians intermarried with Swedes and the Goths moved to Uptown and we pretty much have forgotten about the whole thing. It was supposed to be funny, but no one laughs at it anymore. You can't, either.

Are you still here? You made it through that? Wow, you're a real trouper.

20) Get a kicker, for gosh sakes.

Welcome to Vikings Country, Mr. Fowler. We hope we enjoy your stay.

I'm just tired after all that. Worn out. Exhausted. Can't move. Smithers. . . coffee. . .

Plain Layne Revisited

This time, it's someone known as Libertarian Girl. I didn't know about this site until today, but it soooo reminded me of the Plain Layne unmasking.

Without the ass dildos, I mean.

Blogs are weird.

No Touchie

Driving home from work, I heard this song.

Which of course made me think of this woman:

And now I don't want to touch myself.

CNN Misses Story About CNN

'Most Trusted Name In News' Says "Look, Over There. . . A Turkey!"

NEW YORK (Rhodes Media Services): Famed news organization, CNN, over the weekend missed an opportunity to report on a huge story, the resignation of its executive vice-president, Eason Jordan, following intense online criticism of Jordan regarding remarks he made to the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland.

Speaking during a panel discussion called "Will Democracy Survive the Media?," Jordan made unsubstantiated claims that the U.S. military had a standing policy of targeting journalists, both in Iraq and elsewhere. When pressed for proof of his claims, Jordan backpedaled, but would not clarify or apologize for the remarks.

In a statement released by CNN over the weekend, a top CNN official is quoted as saying "We at CNN deeply enjoy coffee in the morning, and we may enjoy the occasional martini for lunch, and a nice seafood alfredo for dinner. As for the resignation of Eason Jordan, we at CNN can only say: look, over there. . . a turkey!"

The statement then read, "*sound of retreating footsteps into the distance, with a Curley 'whoop, whoop, whoop, whoop' noise.*"

UPDATE: The more I follow this story, the more I'm convinced that this rather nothing incident at Davos probably gave CNN the atrocities in Iraq under Saddam so that they could continue to maintain a CNN bureau in Baghdad. Also, Jordan had an affair with the widow of Daniel Pearl, which I'm sure he doesn't want coming back to the surface. So, CNN wins by giving the appearance of taking action, when they're probably a bit relieved to drop an employee who had become a detriment. Jordan wins by keeping his personal dirt on the ground and, hey, the story becomes more focused on the blog lynch mob, so Jordan can quietly slip away.

Coincidence?

You ever notice that VD can stand for Valentine's Day AND venereal disease? Just asking.

*sigh*

Thanks, Jimmo.

Smear The Queer

This post by Joshua jogged my memory back to the elementary school days of "Smear The Queer."

The premise of Smear The Queer was thus: ten or more of us would meet outside during noon hour (or during Friday night football games), and we'd have this ball, usually a football, but not always. The game, such as it was, required some brave soul amongst the crowd to rush in and grab the ball.

Once you were in possession of the ball, you became "The Queer." And, as the rest of the name indicates, it then became the goal of everybody else to "Smear" you, which was a fairly loose term that primarily involved tackling, but could also include tripping, kicking, punching or, in some cases, clotheslining.

As prejudicial as it sounds, we had no idea what a "queer" actually was, or at least I didn't. All I knew was that, whoever the queer was, they usually ended up getting violently smeared and would usually leave the game in tears. But they'd always come back eventually.

And, for some reason, I was unbelievably good at being the queer. I mean, I grabbed for that ball all the damned time. I would grab it, get killed, and be right back in there trying to grab it again.

I can still remember the exhiliration even today. There was something very primal about Smear The Queer: the fight or flee drama of the whole thing. I was never all that keen on tackling the queer, but I went for that ball every chance I got.

Dare I say it, I loved being queer.

Eventually, teachers heard us referring to the game as Smear The Queer and told us not to call it that any more. I wasn't sure why. So, we just opted to call it Smear, and teachers were fine with that, until they actually saw us playing it, at which point they tried to ban it all together. But, we came up with a clandestine way of playing that involved moving the game around the playground throughout the hour so the supervisor couldn't see us.

Smear, obviously, morphed into football once I entered the 7th grade, which I never found as genuinely fun as Smear. If ESPN started airing games of Smear The Queer, I'm pretty sure their ratings would skyrocket. At least I'd watch.

UPDATE: Argh! I'm a victim of a vicious Maureen Dowd attack!

Better Cheddar

I was out sick yesterday, and I'm still not feeling 100 percent, so I'll just answer the Cheddar X and be on my merry little way:

What's the best way to spend?

Fifty cents

You can actually buy something for 50 cents? I suppose I could buy a few plastic army men, and then melt them with a magnifying glass. Provided I had a magnifying glass, I mean.

A dollar

A really cheap magnifying glass.

Five dollars

I'd be torn here. I COULD by a $5 lottery scratch off ticket, but I could also put $5 worth of gas in my car. Sad thing is, though, that $5 can't even buy you a foot long sandwich at Subway.

Twenty dollars

Now we're talking. Now we're in case of beer territory. Now we're in hooker blowjob territory. Now we're in. . . um. . . never mind that last one.

One hundred dollars

This is grocery shopping money here. This includes a multitude of frozen pizzas, frozen chicken breasts, kitty litter, and the whole works. Mix in a large pan. Heat on high for 30 minutes. Serves seven.

One thousand dollars

Typically, if I have a grand saved up, chances are good my car will take a shit on me. So $1000 would probably go towards car repair.

One million dollars

No question about it, I'd buy one of these. Any money left over would go towards paintballs to feed that crazy machine.

One hundred million dollars

Best damned magnifying glass money can buy.

I've Played Paintball

But not like this. Sweet Jeebus, that is the coolest thing I've seen since I've started seeing cool things.

Via.

Those Damned Terrorists

They'll attack anything. Damn you, bin Laden! Damn YOOUUUUUUU!!!

You Heard it here first

Holy crap! Did anyone else know that there was actually some pretty obvious nudity during the Super Bowl halftime show this year? Really!

I'm shocked. Shocked I tell you.

Wrestling Lessons

Back during my freshman high school year, at the age of 12 to 13, I participated in my first year of varsity wrestling. I was 112 pounds, and I had no problem maintaining that weight, because I was basically always 110 pounds, until a summer growth spurt, but that didn't happen until later, so never mind that.

I wasn't a great wrestler that year, but I didn't totally suck, either. I got destroyed by some wrestlers, mildly beaten by others, and I actually won a fair share of matches, so that my final tally at the end of the season was 16 wins and 19 losses.

Well, towards the end of the wrestling season, during the sectional playoffs, my team met up with the best team in the region, the Stewartville Tigers. So, it was the Harmony Cardinals versus the Stewartville Tigers and, as with most small avian versus large feline encounters, things did not go well for the Harmony team.

Personally, I had to go up against a defending state champion, by the name of Dennis Bly. Now, whereas I was a diminutive 9th grader who had not yet sprouted much in the way of pubic hair, Dennis was a full-fledged senior who--while he was warming up for the match--did a quick shave and took a few belts off a bottle of Jack Daniels. Or it might have been a water bottle. . . I was too intimidated to confirm either way.

I was not what you would call. . . strong. My body was putting all its effort into growing bones rather than muscle mass. As such, I was long and lanky and uncoordinated and not particularly up to state champion form, to put it mildly. I was a Charlie McCarthy doll, to put it accurately.

Dennis, on the other hand, was awash with muscle. His 112 pound frame rippled with all sorts of muscular activity. His muscles talked to each other like close, personal friends. And all those muscles were in full agreement that it was time to kick my sorry little butt.

My coach and teammates all tried to encourage me, saying things like "he's not as tough as they say," and "he's just as afraid of you as you are of him," and "he doesn't really eat babies, just puppies, and the occasional kitten." None of their encouragement did much to convince me that I shouldn't just pee myself a little bit.

Here's the thing about wrestling: you can't blame anybody but yourself if you lose. You can't point at another team member and say you lost because of them. No, you pretty much have to point that finger at yourself, and that's a horrifying thing to admit when you're growing up, especially in high school, when everyone is out to make fun of everyone else for whatever reason they can come up with. So, it takes a special kind of person to go out on a wrestling mat at all, especially when they know, they KNOW, they're going to get their ass handed to them in front of a large number of hometown fans.

I went out to the center of the mat, and I shook Dennis's hand, and I looked him in the eye, and I could see that he absolutely knew he was going to tear me a new butthole. There was no doubt in his mind. He had all the confidence in the world, and I remember briefly wondering what it would be like, to have that kind of confidence.

"Good luck," I told him, as was my custom before each match, and I could see in his eyes, and in his talking muscles, that he needed luck about as much as he needed a second nose.

The referee blew the whistle, and I moved in to lock up with Dennis, and Dennis responded with something I had up to that point never experienced in all my wrestling days: he karate-chopped the back of my neck.

Technically, what Dennis did is considered a head snap--a perfectly legal wrestling maneuver meant to distract an opponent--but, make no mistake, what Dennis did was a karate chop, and I will maintain that until my dying day. The fat side of his hand connected squarely with the nerves between my shoulders and my neck, and I distinctly remember several stars entering my field of vision. I also bit my tongue with a substantial amount of force. To say it was a distraction is like saying a nuclear detonation makes a subtle popping noise.

What transpired after the karate chop is kind of difficult to remember. I think there was a double-leg takedown involved, followed by a rapid succession of movements that put me on my back and, two seconds later, a pin of some sort. I then kind of, sort of remember standing up and shaking hands and saying something like "good luck at state," or something pathetic like that. I really can't remember, exactly.

And, indeed, Dennis went on to repeat as a state champion that year, whereas I was pretty much annihilated after the first round of the section's individual tournament.

Perhaps the only saving grace about the whole encounter is that, today, I'm six feet tall and 180 pounds, whereas Dennis is probably still relatively short and 112 pounds. So, ha ha, Dennis.

And my neck still hurts.

Ass-Focused?

Yeah, probably, but I gotta play to my strengths.

Super Bowl

1.) Decent game, overall. Wanted the Eagles to win, just because repeating Super Bowl champs annoy me.

2.) Happy for Corey Dillon.

3.) What the hell was with the Eagles during that last quarter? Their time management skills were atrocious. Jeezum crow. A little hustle guys. It's the Super Bowl, after all.

4.) People who bet on the spread must have been pissed to the point of crapping themselves after that last touchdown.

5.) Best commercials? That Budweiser one when the pilot jumped out of the plane. Also, that one with the cat knocking over the spaghetti sauce, leading to an unfortunate series of events. Those made me laugh. A lot. The rest of the commercials? Stupid TV, be more funny! Especially Pepsi. Come on, Pepsi, you can do A LOT better than that.

6.) I'm not a fan of halftime shows, but Paul McCartney is a class act. The show wasn't overly flashy, and you didn't have Janet and Justin skipping around and tearing clothes apart, or Shania Twain dressed like Darth Vader. It was just a nice, enjoyable half-time show. About damned time.

7.) Unrelated, but Michael Moore did win an oscar, of sorts, thanks to the tireless Photoshop antics of Simon:

You know, I'm pondering a Photoshop contest on this, but I'm sort of scared of what would happen. My ass is becoming more familiar around the Internet than I am, I think.

Disclosure

This was going to be a comment in response to David, but it got pretty long:

David:

you are so fucking obviously biased (evidenced by selective outrage and selective memory, as well as the different standards applied to conservative vs. liberal writers) yet you try to pretend you are not

No. I don't. I've responded to you a gazzilion times on this. I view my political stance to be in the Libertarian fold. I've told you this. My blog is a place for my opinions, and those opinions are pretty obvious. If it outrages you that I have these opinions, without stating each and every time that they're my opinions, well, boo fucking hoo. I'm not making a secret out of it, so please fucking try to remember it this time. I'm not sure what you want me to admit to, since I've written here, and on many other blogs, including yours, my opinions, countless times.

And I'm not putting myself out as an unbiased media critic. fucking-A, I write for IBM magazines, and my shit gets infused with so much marketing-speak and legal review, it can hardly be considered unbiased. That's my point, that an unbiased media is a fucking MYTH. I've written shit now for daily and weekly newspapers, as well as magazines, and at each job I've had editors tweak the language because "we don't want to appear biased." Well, fine, but the bias is still there, even though it may not APPEAR to be. Do I tend to sniff at liberal bias more? Probably, because in my opinion liberal bias tries to sneak in under the radar. I mean, Fox News, quite obviously, is awash with conservative bias. They practically scream it at you. MSNBC.com stuff, on the other hand, often slides stuff out that is slanted liberally, yet with more subtlety.

The whole Dan Rather flap, for example. That screamed of liberal bias masquerading as unbiased reporting. I mean, come on. CBS officials agreeing to put an arguably delusional source in contact with the Kerry campaign, for a report about Bush's duty-dodging, THE DAY BEFORE the Kerry campaign unveiled their Fortunate Son message? Puh-lease.

yet you try to pretend you are not, and you hide behind some phony-baloney "professional cred"

You know what? Go fuck yourself. Seriously, insert your penis into your ass, back and forth, till you're sore. Rinse, repeat.

I'm a journalist by education and profession. My experiences in the field are entirely my own, and I have my opinions because of those experiences, most of which have fueled my belief that unbiased media is a, let's say it again, MYTH. If you think that my experiences just equal a "phoney-baloney street cred," well, you can just go fuck off.

Again, I've made no secret that I work for an IBM marketing arm. Ooh, you really got me there. On the same token, I've never claimed to be un-biased. I HAVE claimed that non-bias is a fucking MYTH.

My political leanings, such as they are, are thus:

Stop raising my fucking taxes in a futile attempt to stamp out poverty. I'm sick of it. I work at the IBM marketing arm to make money, and I want that money, so stop taking it away from me to feed Tiny Tim. I can handle some taxation to that end, but only so much. You could take my entire paycheck and put it toward social services, and there would still be people who would STILL be poor and miserable. I'd like to keep that money, thank you. I'm pro-abortion, but not within the third tri-mester. I think women should probably keep the right to vote. I'm flexible on this issue. I'm kidding. I think women should have parity with men, except they shouldn't grow penises. That would be wrong. I'm for the right to bear arms, but I think there should be some limit as to what those arms should be; I don't necessarily think people should be equipped with Street Sweepers, in the off-beat chance an army materializes in front of them. I don't trust the U.N. As of just a couple years ago, I thought they were God's gift to world order; now I don't think that. I think the U.N. is a corrupt, do-nothing monolith that enables dictatorships. I think the U.N. is, in fact, an impediment to world stability. I don't think all that much of President Bush. I think entirely less of Sen. Kerry. I think Howard Dean is a self-important ass. I'm sick and fucking tired of hearing that the GOP is a party of evil, fat cat, power-mongers, and permutations on that theme. I think hardcore pornography rocks! I tend to side with the Israeli cause rather than the Palestinians. I think gays should be able to marry whoever they fucking want, just please don't kiss and fondle in front of me because. . . *shudder* Unless you're a lesbian, then please, chow box in front of me. Unless you're Rosie O'Donnell, then please, don't. I think the Middle East is a cesspool that can probably only be changed through aggressive diplomacy with the very real threat of military force. I'm pissed off that all those fucking dinosaurs had to go and die over there, and then decay, and become oil deposits under all that fucking useless desert sand. I think France is silly. I think Great Britain kicks ass. Australia, too. Japan also. I don't trust China. Or Iran. Or Uzbekistan, because they're always up to something. So is Portugal. I love the United States of America, even when it sucks.

Please, David, let me know if I've missed anything here.

UPDATE: To augment all of my above points, Simon just provided me with a "picture-worth-a-thousand-words."

Things That Keep Me Up At Night

Sometimes, I'll get into comment debates that just burrow into my mind and I can't let go. Such is the case regarding this post which, in turn, got me over here.

The backstory: a graduate student wrote an op-ed piece for the Star-Tribune, attacking the blog Power Line for inadequate fact-checking (on this post), as opposed to the in-depth fact-checking supposedly conducted by newspapers like the Star-Tribune. The kicker, of course, was that the Star Tribune didn't fact-check the op-ed piece. Ironical.

Well, the grad student did provide her "research" to a blogger who requested it, and I think I've spent an unhealthy amount of time over there debating the "evidence," or lack thereof. And, because a lot of thought and time went into it, I thought I'd repost the comment string here, in the extended entry:

Thanks for the link.

Here's were we agree (I think): I don't think blogs in general should be anyone's primary source of news. A combination of news sources, with a few blogs thrown in, would be ideal, in my opinion.
LB | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 2:31 pm | #

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It's not my intent to go after Gage, beyond questioning her qualifications to opine within the biggest newspaper in Minnesota. If that's what the Strib is allowing nowadays, I have some pretty strong opinions about low flow toilets that I'd like some exposure on.

But, no editorial oversight on the part of the Strib? That's a tad disconcerting. Checking over this site, I admit that it looks as though Gage did some admirable footwork, but where was the Strib when it came to vetting?

Look at the weird way in which Gage allowed her footwork to veer:

I began by calling Tom Farley, the news editor at the Racine Journal Times. Mr. Farley had no knowledge of the allegations. He pointed out that there is no city position with the title "Deputy Registrar of Voters" (what the post cited).

Gage makes it seem as if Power Line was doing their own reporting, when in fact they were "citing" from and article from Agape Press. If Gage is going to go after anyone, it should be Agape Press. From where I'm sitting, Hinderaker's (never met him, don't know him) actions were the equivalent of circling an article in a newspaper and passing it along.

She declined to name the individual, but said the group was Voces de la Frontera, a group that works with Hispanic immigrants. I asked her directly how she knew the individual in question was an illegal immigrant and asked if she had spoken to them. She quickly admitted that she did not actually know if the individual in question was an illegal alien. I asked her when the alleged voter fraud occurred. She informed me the incidents took place in August and September, 2004. I then asked her which law enforcement agency she contacted and she told me she had called the FBI.

So, Gage is getting pretty close to sniffing out that there may be some real truth to the claim, although she's only lacking a name at that point, which Tully wouldn't give her. But, isn't Tully basically admitting that there was SOMEBODY? Gage basically had a smoking gun at that point, so to say there's no evidence to back up the claim is misleading at best, bogus at worst. But Gage opts to do some sleight of hand by switching gears and doing some Internet sleuthing:

I then did an Internet search on Voces de la Frontera. The first hit was a recent press release, released jointed by Wisconsin Citizen Action and Voces de la Frontera regarding their successful voter registration drive.

And, of course, Voces won't confirm anything, so Gage gets the answers she wants, forgetting, of course, that Tully gave her every bit of evidence except for a specific NAME.

There are some other peculiar things here:

I then called Ms. Moskonas at the City Clerks office. She was unaware of this matter.

Yet, in a JSonline (subscription required) Sept. 28, 2004 article, we learn that:

Moskonas said that in each of the six potential fraud cases, the people named on the Project Vote applications told
Ryan | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 4:01 pm | #

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Whoops. Got cut off there.

Yet, in a JSonline (subscription required) Sept. 28, 2004 article, we learn that:

Moskonas said that in each of the six potential fraud cases, the people named on the Project Vote applications told her office they had not signed the forms and had not been contacted by any voter registration drives.

So, either Moskonas simply didn't remember this when asked by Gage, or Moskonas was lying. And, Gage's research probably should have exposed that conflict, no?
Ryan | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 4:34 pm | #

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I think Tom Farley just didn't know, although he must have been aware of some issues over irregularities. Curiouser, I wonder why Carolynn Moskonas, the Racine County Clerk didn't mention the multiple Election Fraud/PTAC Misconduct in Public Office investigations?

I do notice that you limited the focus of discussion to "this matter" & I quote "...She was unaware of this matter. Ms. Moskonas explained to me that at the direction of the state legislature, volunteers involved in voter registrations drives must attend a training. They are then considered "deputy registrars."

To wit, where there's smoke, there's fire;

4 Counts of Election Fraud, 4 counts of PTAC Misconduct in Public Office:
http://www.wispolitics.com/1006/PRESS_RELEASE_COMPLAINTS_FORELECTION_FRAUD_SENT_10_28_2004_.pdf

Racine Journal Times | Failure to validate new voters:
http://www.journaltimes.com/articles/2005/01/21/local/iq_3335724.txt

Ref Racine Journal Times' 6 Oct 04 article:
http://badgerherald.com/oped/2004/10/06/new_voters_fraud_pro.php

AP | Congresswoman's son, four others charged with slashing Republican van tires on Election Day:
http://www.marshfield.net/cgi-bin/ubbcgi/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=5;t=004871

Joel McNally: Right fears voter growth:
http://www.madison.com/tct/opinion/column/guest/index.php?ntid=14186&ntpid=2

Compendium of published newspaper articles (28 Sep - 3 Oct 04) regarding voter fraud, arrests & investigations (Pages 198 - 209):
http://www.gop.com/media/voterfraudarticles.pdf

29 Oct 04, Authorities Thursday filed felony election fraud charges against two Milwaukee men accused of falsifying voter applications in Racine and Kenosha:
http://www.jsonline.com/news/racine/oct04/270558.asp

Milwaukee D.A. Expresses Anger About Voter Fraud Investigation (At FAIR, Not the Registration of Noncitizens):
http://www.fairus.org/Research/Research.cfm?ID=2580&c=54
Alas for Mr. McMann, he's now a target of a federal investigation bwahahaha.

Miscellany
Q: Is it true? Lawsuits for-No ID to vote? Illegal aliens to vote? Felons to vote?
http://answers.google.com/answers/threadview?id=418921

And the list just goes on & on & on. If you want more, Google "Racine vote fraud register"

Bottomline, both parties should be 100% against fraud of any kind. Otherwise, the day will come when the shoe is on the other foot. It just so happens that the shoe fits the Democratic party.
Andy | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 4:37 pm | #

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John,

There are sooo many points I wanna comment on here...

First, it is a full 24 hours since Powerline posted it's 'miscreant' slam and promise to deliver it's fact-checked Racine story rebuttal.

I won't hold my breath.

Second, don't you f**king dare lump Lefty blogs in with the Right blogs, judging us equally guilty of sloppy fact-checking. I could offer up examples from La Shawn Barber, Wizbang and Say Anything right now, and dare you to match it in scope.

Just for starters, I have Media Matters, The Progress Report and DU Archives as frequent sources for supportive evidence when I blog. I cannot recall any instance in the last two years of blogging, where my writing has been effectively challenged as Powerline has been.

I also happen to write for the political commentary site WatchBlog.com, and there is a reason why we have a constant problem of attracting Conservative writers.

Wanna venture a guess?
thatcoloredfella | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 5:08 pm | #

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TCF,

Didn't mean to lump lefty and righty bloggers together on the grounds of faulty fact-checking, just that there is a tendency for hype to cloud reasoning. Reading that last bit over, I can tell it wasn't very clear.
John | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 5:36 pm | #

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Um, TCF? I wouldn't brag too entirely much about using DU as a reference for anything. Or Media Matters, either.
Ryan | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 6:00 pm | #

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Aw John, don't cave in so fast! Stand fast to your lumping of Lefty & Righty blogs as deficient in fact-checking.

Media matters has dsylexia, and dare I say 2/3 of what should be in DU Archives is permanently filed in the memory hole. So what!

[quote]Second, don't you f**king dare lump Lefty blogs in with the Right blogs[/quote]

What's thatcoloredfool gonna do, if you dare? Come over and slit your throat, like that Coptic family? Please!!! Dude needs to take a chill pill or two and slap McGruder in the morning
Andy | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 6:19 pm | #

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Ryan and Andy,

Here's where you need to put up, or...

Read what I said about Media Matters and DU:

as frequent sources for supportive evidence when I blog

Pretty clear, huh? I know you CEC dwellers have successfully demonized these groups, but I don't quote them. Instead, I use the wealth of evidence, facts and source links to bolster my case.

The problem for you, is that you can't (scared?) prove the carefully researched evidence like at Media Matters is wrong, with something more credible than your opinion.
thatcoloredfella | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 8:00 pm | #

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TCF:

Just for starters, I have Media Matters, The Progress Report and DU Archives as frequent sources for supportive evidence when I blog.

Dude, do you have any idea how often (at least the DU) they've been debunked? Let alone "allowed" their posts to be dropped through the memory hole, for some inexplicable reason? Come on, man, drop the tinfoil hat, if even just for a moment. Read www.noematic.org/mine, he's at least leftist, without the nonsense. And he's smart.
Ryan | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 9:57 pm | #

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People, People just read what John said.
If Hinderaker, et. al. really had a problem with Gage's allegation, all they had to do was send her an email and ask her nicely to verify the source and information. But, clearly it was far easier for them to impugne {sic} her credibility than to take a few minutes to check her story out

Media matters and DU are great resources but the do not replace primary sources. Blogs can be a rumor mill (remember High School?), isn't it better to talk to the people directly involved before adopting a position based on hearsay?

Bloggers may want to be journalists but the should first be investigators. Talk to the people who are primary sources and distinguish between those with an agenda and bullshit.

It's the only way for the amateur sleuth to blog....
Scaramouche | Email | Homepage | 02.01.05 - 10:58 pm | #

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Scara, you can talk directly with the raving paranoid on the street. That doesn't make the raving paranoid any more correct. Come on. There are holes so huge in Gage's "research," the Strib should never have run her piece. But, they did. All bloggers may not be journalists, but neither is Gage.
Ryan | Email | Homepage | 02.02.05 - 4:40 am | #

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Bloggers are so sensitive...
I've gotten into arguments with bloggers who claim that things I was an eyewiness to never happened. John, maybe you want to bring up the me and BillC example here about the Ottawa protests. He's an actual columnist on top of that and his piece went to print, plus It's a little less recent, so it might not be such a sore spot and can illustrate your point.
Enjoy the widening interest in your blog! there's definitely some new names in the comments section.
Ottawarotic | Email | Homepage | 02.02.05 - 8:20 am | #

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Ryan,

You are correct, talking to raving paranoids on the street doesn't make the story any more correct. However, not talking to an eyewitness doesn't make the story any more correct. We can parse witness testimony and consider the source, but if one doesn't do the digging and just make bald statements of fact that doesn't give them any more credibility in my book.
Scaramouche | Email | Homepage | 02.02.05 - 9:55 am | #

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Danica McKellar, if I read a newspaper, circle an article I found interesting, and hand it on to you, whose credibility would you question: me, or the newspaper? Because, in essence, that's what pretty much most bloggers do, including Power Line. Power Line didn't make a "bald statement of fact." They cited a news source. And the facts, then and now, back them up. So, Gage is barking up entirely the wrong tree, in my opinion. Besides that, she skewed her own research to fit her preconceptions. It's right there in her "research."
Ryan | Email | Homepage | 02.02.05 - 10:41 am | #

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Hinderaker cited Agape Press...not exactly the Washington Post or Wall Street Journal. Either he knew he was passing along info from a shady source, or he isn't as smart as his readers think he is.
Danica McKellar naked. | Email | Homepage | 02.02.05 - 11:10 am | #

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Considering that commenters here have been gleefully stating that they cite from the DU and Media Matters, I don't think anyone here can really point fingers at Power Line for citing a "shady" source. Pot meet kettle; kettle, pot.
Danica McKellar nude. | Email | Homepage | 02.02.05 - 11:28 am | #

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That person wasn't posting information from those sources and passing it off as though it were fact. Slight difference there.

The difference between Gage and Power Line, is that Gage did do some fact-checking and went to the source of the issue. Power Line didn't, and not only that, but relied on a sketchy source.

I'm still not sure how you can argue that the facts back them up then and now.
Danica McKellar naked. | Email | Homepage | 02.02.05 - 12:55 pm | #

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I'm still not sure how you can argue that the facts back them up then and now.

Um, because they do?

Allegations of voting fraud in Racine had been reported going back as far as August, and it was reported on many, many times (see also: Andy's comment).

Then, as per Gage's Research:

I asked her if she would name the individual or group in question. She declined to name the individual

Just because she refused to name the individual doesn't mean the individual doesn't exist which, apparently, the individual very much does exist, but Gage chose to ignore that and say there was no evidence, despite said evidence staring her right in the face in her "research." So far, the Agape article and, by extension, Power Line, have been proven correct. I mean, over and over and over again.

How you can't see THAT is what I'm unsure of.
Danica McKellar topless.| Email | Homepage | 02.02.05 - 1:23 pm | #

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Ryan, ditto, ditto, ditto. Essentially, PL simply said hey, check this out and presented a link to Agape when excerpting a couple of paragraphs.

Gage's implication of PL pooh-poohing the fact-check issue is to make a mountain out of a molehill.

1) the reports of voter registration fraud had already been circulating since August (anyone remember ACT hiring ex-cons to sign up new voters? How stupid is that? Perfect cover for a sex-convict or burglar to get up close to potential victims, scope em out and come back later--anyhoo). PL, along with Cap'n Ed and countless others have already had a running list of questionable activities. The Agape article was just another in the series that ONLY interested Gage because it was her hometown.

2) Instead of taking PL to task, she should have started and ended with the substance of Agape's story. Many oher bloggers also referenced the article, why bring PL into it?

3) Because of fact-checking? Aha, Gage reports that PL blew her off during the lecture about the need to fact-check. Duh??

Since when is someone obligated to fact-check a story by linking/reference? If you're going to write a story, then by golly, you better check your facts.

If you're merely pointing out a story written by someone else, then this is where the so-called self-correcting comes into play -- IOW, I pass it along and you decide.
Reader A sees it and says, "Hey, I'm from there and I know, I have something to add."
Reader B says, "Hey, I saw something somewhere else that corroborates the story and here's the link."
Reader C says, "Hey, that story is bogus and here's why."
And so on and so forth, etc, etc.

Where in all this is PL obligated to fact-check anything within this scope? Only if he's going to write up a story .

Gage fails to appreciate the fact that this is but one type of blogging, as in linking as opposed to pundit-ting (is that a word?) or opining.
Andy | Email | Homepage | 02.02.05 - 2:53 pm | #

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Ryan,

Do me a favor. Bring me an example of Media Matters.org being 'debunked', and let us decide who is right!
thatcoloredfella | Email | Homepage | 02.03.05 - 6:03 am | #

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Ooh, a last gasp from TCF.

I say:

Dude, do you have any idea how often (at least the DU) they've been debunked?

To which, TCF responds:

Bring me an example of Media Matters.org being 'debunked'

With sleight of hand like that, TCF, you could write op-ed pieces for the Star-Tribune.

Do you care to actually address the debate at hand, or would you like to continue to try and shift said debate?
Ryan | Email | Homepage | 02.03.05 - 6:52 am | #

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Ryan,

For the record (and hopefully the last time), I haven't been able to find one single source of news information from a credible source since the end of October regarding the SPECIFIC incident of voter fraud alluded to in the original Power Line post.

Are there other incidents and allegations of voter fraud in Milwaukee and Racine being reported in the media? Yes, just yesterday I saw one. But there is no indication that they involve the issue that Gage's editorial, and Power Line's orginial post, addressed.

It's actually you that is using sleight of hand by trying to argue that other voter fraud allegations are equal to the one we're talking about here.
Danica McKellar nude. | Email | Homepage | 02.03.05 - 7:39 am | #

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*sigh*

John. . . ?

I asked her if she would name the individual or group in question. She declined to name the individual

And now, I ask you to define "credible," because:

http://www.fairus.org/Research/Research.cfm?ID=2579&c=54

Is FAIR any more or less credible than, say, the DU, Media Matters, or even Gage's shoddy research, for that matter?

You know going in that PL is a conservative blog. It's hardly a secret. And even Agape Press touts itself as Your source for issues-related news from a Christian perspective, which also basically screams CONSERVATIVE.

Cross-check that with Media Matters (this is for you, TCF): For the first time, Media Matters for America has put in place a system to monitor the media for conservative misinformation -- every day, in real time -- in 2004 and beyond.

They don't come right out and SAY they're a liberal spout-machine, partially funded by George Soros, but it's pretty danged obvious. Danica McKellar nude.

All of which is beside the point, anyway. You're saying that PL shouldn't have linked and cited from an article from Agape Press, to which I simply say. . . pffft. Under that reasoning, I can never again link to any news item I ever see (or circle a newspaper article and hand it to someone else) unless I first go out and try to find articles that contradict that. I certainly don't see YOU doing that, and it's pretty obvious that your's is a liberal blog, which is fine. Whatever.

I do think it's admirable, however, that you contacted Gage directly, despite what I think of her flawed journalistic research. That's a little bit of legwork I couldn't do during my workday, so kudos for that.

And, yes, I can maintain a comment debate for far longer than is probably healthy. But, I'm not as bad as that Joshua guy from www.noematic.org/mine, however. He can go on into perpetuity.
Danica McKellar nude.| Email | Homepage | 02.03.05 - 8:11 am | #

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Oh, and for what it's worth, PL offered up a rebuttal:

http://powerlineblog.com/archives/009432.php

So, TCF? You can stop holding your breath now.
Ryan | Email | Homepage | 02.03.05 - 9:05 am | #

News or Not?

I had a considerably fun time chortling over the "hostage" action figure named Cody. It really was, and still is, a good laugh.

But, it also got me thinking about what news organizations believe passes as news.

I mean, here we have a mass media that is typically almost allergic when it comes to the Internet and blogs, saying that it's difficult to fact-check stuff from the Web. Yet, that same mass media acts like a starving dog under a buffet table when it comes to postings on militant Islamic fundamentalist Web sites.

The whole hostaged doll thing speaks volumes about a media that has unwittingly become a compliant gear in the Islamic militant PR machine. There's no way the likes of CNN would think that the musings of a pro-KKK Web site would qualify as news. No, it would be shrugged off as crazy fringe lunacy.

And, I'm not saying that there isn't actual news coming from those Islamic Fundamentalist sites. The beheading of Nick Berg, after all, was widely reported, although I still wonder if the disgustingly cruel beheading of a man really should qualify as news.

Still, I don't think it's particularly healthy for the mass media, and those it serves, that the media is so quick to run with the postings of militant lunatics.

Didja' Hear About Da 90 Footer?

Caroline says: This guy isn't anyone's monkey: Sports Illustrated Story

From way downtown
Player hits 90-foot overtime shot for the win

Ryan says: "For this former quarterback, it took a Hail Mary thrown like a baseball"

Ryan says: Huh?

Caroline says: a Hail Mary pass?

Ryan says: Something's not right with those mixed metaphors.

Caroline says: yeah, but he made the basket

Ryan says: I wish I had a high school memory like that.

Ryan says: Somehow, an atomic wedgie from the school bully just doesn't equate.

Now, in an attempt to boost Web traffic, I'll post a name that's been in the news lately: Laure Manaudou. Laure Manaudou. Laure Manaudou. Laure Manaudou. Laure Manaudou.

Forged Soldiers? Soldier-Gate?

Iraq militants claim to kidnap U.S. soldier

The figure in the photo appeared stiff and expressionless. The photo's authenticity could not be confirmed.

NBC News counterterrorism analyst Evan Kohlman said some details in the picture appear to be doctored.

Threatened by his own tiny toy weapon. That's gotta suck!

“God willing, we will behead him if our female and male prisoners are not released from U.S. prisons within the maximum period of 72 hours from the time this statement has been released,” the statement said.

Oh, noooooooooooo!

This just cracks my shit right up.

UPDATE: Great commentary going on about this over at Fark.

Salmon Chanted Evening

You know cabin fever is starting to settle in when you open your refrigerator, find nothing, but then decide it's too cold outside to really do anything about it. That's what I experienced last night.

Yes, my car has a heater, but it's the uncomfortable few minutes I have to endure waiting for it to heat up that keeps me indoors. So, even though I was sufficiently hungry, I wasn't hungry enough to brave the cold and go buy groceries.

I was, however, hungry enough to scrounge. My ensuing search through the mostly bare kitchen yielded a list of ingredients that would never find its way onto Emerill Live.

I found some frozen chicken, about a breast and a quarter, and then I found some fettucine alfredo Chicken Helper way towards the back of the cupboard which, although it was probably five years old, was probably still just fine for human digestion.

Okay, so I had Chicken Helper with an insufficient amount of chicken. There HAD to be something else I could put in there. Oh, there was.

Back during Christmas, my mother sent me a gift basket of assorted cheese and meats and, although I had long since eaten all the really good stuff, there still remained a small box of preserved salmon.

I located that long-lost salmon in another cupboard, cut open the package, had my nostrils assailed by a pungent, cat food-like odor, and then I crumbled the little fish fillet into the burbling pan of fettucine alfredo.

But, I wasn't done with that culinary masterpiece quite yet. I had to KICK IT UP ANOTHER NOTCH!

You see, I like hot and spicy food. Unfortunately, the bare nature of my cupboards meant that they were pretty much devoid of spices. Even the pepper was gone. But, there was a jar of curry powder about one quarter full, so I figured that would have to suffice.

So, to recap: fettucine alfredo Chicken Helper with chicken and salmon, mixed with a goodly portion of curry powder. I know, I know. . . it sounds too good to be true. But wait, there's MORE.

Because I was lacking bread, I opted for the next, closest available item: Saltine crackers.

There I sat, dipping Saltines into my demented concoction and, I'm here to tell you, the taste was something truly unique. It was, like, ALMOST fettucine alfredo, but then, no, it was mostly salmon, but then, no, it was kind of curry. It was as if there was a small battle being fought between my taste buds, with no one army able to take supreme control.

As I fought my way through half a plate of that vile culinary disaster, I looked out the window, and one thought dominated all others:

Cabin fever sucks!

Here's a list of famous women I'm posting to boost Web traffic: Christina Aguilera. Jessica Alba. Lindsay Lohan. Tina Fey.. Carrie Ann Moss. Kate Hudson. Summer Glau. Jennifer Love Hewitt. Jennifer Connelly. Christina Aguilera. Jessica Alba. Lindsay Lohan. Jessica Alba. Jenny Garth. Jenny Garth. Alyssa Milano. Alyssa Milano. Kate Hudson. Summer Glau. Jennifer Love Hewitt. Jennifer Connelly. Evanna Lynch. Evanna Lynch. Evanna Lynch.

Just Curious Here. . .

But, what the hell is the Minneapolis Star-Tribune doing running editorial content written by "an artist and a graduate student of public affairs?"

I mean, I realize that newspapers churn through new reporters like a lumber yard cuts through trees, but what is the Strib doing running the opinion of someone arguably writing well beyond the area of her expertise (if she has expertise in anything)?

Perhaps more important: what is the Strib doing running an editorial piece that laments the lack of editorial oversight in the blogosphere, while not subjecting that same said editorial piece to EDITORIAL OVERSIGHT?

Just, you know, asking.

But, what the hell is the Minneapolis Star-Tribune doing running editorial content written by "an artist and a graduate student of public affairs?"

I mean, I realize that newspapers churn through new reporters like a lumber yard cuts through trees, but what is the Strib doing running the opinion of someone arguably writing well beyond the area of her expertise (if she has expertise in anything)?

Perhaps more important: what is the Strib doing running an editorial piece that laments the lack of editorial oversight in the blogosphere, while not subjecting that same said editorial piece to EDITORIAL OVERSIGHT?

Just, you know, asking.

Now, in an attempt to boost my site traffic, here's a repeated list of famous women: Namrata Singh Gujral. Cerina Vincent. Lauren Lee Smith. Tawny Cypress. Jayma Mays. Rose Byrne. Natalia Tena. Carice van Houten. Sonya Walger. Michelle Ryan. Alice Braga. Kristen Stewart. Katie Leung. Vera Jordanova. Mia Maestro. Ninel Conde.

Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker. Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker. Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker.