Gloating over tragedy is not a virtue, you twat!

I understand that people get all heated up about the abortion debate. That there are foundational issues of definition that will never be resolved means that we will never be able to have a productive dialogue about this issue which illuminates commonly held ground. We have to agree to disagree until one side or another gives up a bedrock premise on their side of the argument (e.g., whether a fetus is a "child" or not).

But then there's just being an asshole about it.

Case in point, PZ Myers over at Pharyngula noticed a particularly odious rationalization of the recent airplane tragedy in Montana (context, if you haven't seen the news). Myers expresses my disgust as adequately as I can, so I won't reiterate what he's already written. But to summarize, Gingi Edmonds, a writer I had never come across before (because I don't normally read the Christian Newswire), took the opportunity to not only point out a coincidence which one might be able to categorize as a slight irony (albeit one still in bad taste), and instead turned it into a screed that gives her god the credit for murdering the children of a man who owns a chain of family planning clinics (or as the wingnuts read it: "abortion clinics").

Oh the divine justice!

She writes:

We warned him, for his children's sake, to wash his hands of the innocent blood he assisted in spilling because, as Scripture warns, if "you did not hate bloodshed, bloodshed will pursue you". (Ezekiel 35:6)

Yet again the sentiments of the most vocal christians among us demonstrate their zeal for revenge and perverse pleasure taken in the suffering of others. Very un-christian. At the risk of invoking No True Scotsman, I reply:

He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? ... If you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? (Matthew 5:45-47)

But that's only Jesus in what Sam Harris would call one of his "better moods." We all know the god of the Old Testament to be... well, how about another quote? Richard Dawkins, can you summarize my feelings on this?

"The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully." [emphasis added]

If it could be proved to me that the god these people worship truly existed, I would certainly believe. But I would also have to take Philip Pullman's stance on the matter and declare that such a being as the god of Abraham "deserves to be put down and rebelled against."

Amazon Recommends You Smoke Crack!

I have yet to have a computer algorithm recommend a purchase to me that I would actually consider buying. I have a broad range of interests in movies music and film, so you'd think it wouldn't be hard. Recommendations online are not based on what someone who likes a particular piece of music or film would also like given the style, theme, or tone of the piece. Instead it seems recommendations are only based on what someone else who has bought that same thing I did buys next. Thus my recommendations from Amazon, etc. are pretty worthless.

Want examples?

One of the the things I find myself drawn to is Japanese cinema. But not in general. I like Japanese films from the 1930s though the1960s - primarily Akira Kurosawa (the greatest director who ever lived), Hiroshi Inagaki, and Kenji Mizoguchi.

One of my favorite films by Inagaki is his retelling of the 47 Ronin, called Chushingura. Here is the synopsis of Inagaki's Chushingura:

Chushingura means "loyalty," and that potent Japanese theme runs like hot blood throughout this stately samurai epic. It's often called the Gone with the Wind of Japanese cinema... based on one of Japan's most enduring and oft-interpreted historical events. A simmering, deliberately paced drama set during the Tokugawa shogunate in 1701, it centers on 47 loyal samurai who seek vengeance against the arrogant elder statesman who caused their master's ritual suicide... This is a thematically dense, politically complex drama, presented here at its fullest length (207 minutes) and best appreciated after multiple viewings. Masterfully composed with painterly precision, Chushingura weaves its intricate tapestry from time-honored tenets of Japanese culture, offering a challenging but grandly rewarding experience....

Sound good? It is. This film is awesome like a Górecki symphony that swells from an almost inaudible solo soprano in the first movement to the mournful wail of the full orchestra by the end of the third movement. Slow burn. Big emotions brought to boil over a long time.

So, based upon my prior liking of Chushingura, Amazon made a suggestion based on what others who liked it also bought. Here's what Amazon suggests I buy, sight-unseen:

Uh, yeah. Okay. I see where you would get the idea I would like this. An artistic interpretation of one of Japan's most enduring historical tales of loyalty and honor definitely is concomitant in tone and quality to schoolgirl fetish films.

I think I know how this works. Let's see, I liked Jose Ferrer's Oscar-winning performance in the 1950 version of Cyrano de Bergerac, so I should also make sure I also see... the remake of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Hm. I actually do profoundly love both of those films.

Maybe I'm the one ruining Amazon's recommendations page. It once suggested I purchase Surf's Up because I had bought Hostel Part 2.

Even funnier is the most recent recommendation I got from Ticketbastard. Not long ago Comrade Squinty and I went to see our favorite band, Opeth, twice. Our love for Swedish death metal/jazz/folk seems to have broken Ticketbastard's computer because here was the next show it thought I would like:


YEE HAW! PRAISE THE LORD AND PASS THE AMMUNITION!

The U.S. Warmly Welcomes You Home fucker!

I went through one of those symbolic checkpoints in the state of New York driving back here. It was about 125 miles from the border. In a car with license plate one on it from Vermont. With little letters underneath it that said US Senate. We were stopped and ordered to get out of the car and prove my citizenship. And I said “what authority are you acting under?” and one of your agents pointed to his gun and said “that’s all the authority I need.” Encouraging way to enter our country.

That was Senator Patrick Leahy (D-Vt.) speaking at the hearing on the FY 2009 DHS budget request, Tuesday, March 4, 2008. This shit is getting out of hand.

Of the many things I love about living in the United States (and their number has dwindled in the last eight years), crossing the border back into the States is NOT one of them. Having crossed into the States through Niagara Falls, JFK airport, Port Huron, MI, and Atlanta, GA, I have never been made to feel like coming back into the country was something I could take for granted or even something that I was welcome to do. That is not a good thing.

Last summer we drove to Michigan for a wedding (it was marginally cheaper than flying). The most direct route from Boston to East Lansing is through Ontario, Canada, entering at Niagara Falls and exiting through Sarnia. Crossing the border into Canada we were asked the anticipated questions, such as, "where are you coming from," "where are you going," "how long will you be staying with us," etc. No big.¹

Reentering the States, on the other hand, was slightly different. Instead of the warm and friendly "hello, bonjour" we'd received on our way into Canada we were hit with an abrupt demand of "Citizenship?" from the U.S. Border Agent in Michigan. I gladly said, "United States" as I handed the guy our passports.² He then gave us the third degree. Origin? Destination? Any stops in Canada? What are you two doing in Michigan?

Whataminute. He asked our purpose in the United States? Uh, sorry, we freakin' live here. Being in good spirits, we answered, "We're headed to a wedding."

"Friends or family?"

What? You've got to be kidding me. Now, I know what was going on. He was getting details of our story to determine whether we knew enough about what we were doing to be telling the truth instead of concocting some line of bullshit about our possible illicit activities in the Mitten State. We played along. "Friends," I said. "You can enter," he replied, handing us back the documents he'd been trying to bend with his mind a 'la Uri Geller (that's how his expression looked anyway).

Thanks, pal, for letting me back into the country I have every right to be in and not making me call the embassy to explain a three hour detour through Canada.

Other friends who also drove to the wedding from Boston told of an encounter where the driver answered all of the border agent's questions, but before the crossing guard would clear them he demanded that her husband speak English. Since when are people with valid proof of identity and U.S. citizenship required to speak English to get across the border? Thanks, Officer Dobbs.

A.'s husband is as Caucasian-looking as they come, incidentally - so at least it wasn't racial profiling. Are we seriously afraid of French-Canadian separatists infiltrating our country to insidiously plant bilingual signage along the road?

But I digress. The way back for us was slightly more annoying than it had been coming from the East. Entering New York from Canada, we waited in the line of cars at the border until our turn. As the final car in front of us pulled away, a stray border cop talking to the one in the booth ahead of us raised his hand in a "hold on" gesture.³ We waited while Barney joked with his compatriot about how Andy lets him keep a single bullet in his shirt pocket. After a minute or two he wandered off, leaving no one standing in the lane, at which point we figured that it was okay to proceed.

As we pulled forward slowly the person in the booth stepped out with two hands raised and started shrieking, "STOP! STOP!" We did, and she went back to checking her e-mail in the booth.⁴ After another two minutes or more we finally got the "come forward" gesture.⁵

We comply and the woman in the booth started to chastise us for trying to take our place in the queue. "When you receive a command to stop from an officer you obey it." Squinty tried to explain that since the "officer" who'd gestured for us to hold on had departed, we figured it would be fine to proceed. She emphasized that we should have waited for the other officer (i.e., her) to waive us forward. Whatever, jerk. Ask us your stupid questions and look in the trunk so we can go home.

Every single time we travel abroad (and I hadn't considered Canada all that far abroad, but what the hey) we get a chilly reception coming home. It's not that I'm expecting flowers, hugs, and a "we missed you,"⁶ but a slight acknowledgment that we're welcome in our own home would be nice.

Although, I understand. Border guards, transit authority, and parking enforcement ticket writers have all got the same attitude as street cops. By extension, they all think they are part of that thin blue line that stands between good decent people (read: them) and lawlessness (read: us).

Great job you're doing there, DHS. It's a good thing you guys are issued guns, because without them you'd be a complete farce.





¹ BTW, nothing personal Ontario, but WOW is the drive between Hamilton and Sarnia boring. Like deadly dull! Nebraska dull.
² Unnecessary, since the passport requirement for Canadian/U.S. travel by land or water has been delayed until next summer.
³ Or, in the Middle East, a "hey, come on ahead, we're friends, right?" gesture. Perhaps it was a test to see if we were with Al Quaeda in Iraq.
⁴ I don't know what she was really doing, but if she can laugh and joke with a friend while she does it, I'm guessing she wasn't entering the specifics of her last border crosser into the national database. Or perhaps she was, and that's part of the problem.
⁵ The one Bruce Lee gave in the movies right before he wailed on the guy who'd just tagged him.
⁶ Well, maybe in Hawaii or on Fantasy Island.

From the Huh? Files: Goth Cruise

Airing on IFC¹ is Goth Cruise. Say what?

Goth Cruise the Movie trailer - a 'Gothumentary' from jeanie finlay on Vimeo.

A look at Goth lifestyle around the world, "Goth Cruise" follows 300 British and American Goths as they sail around the Caribbean on a luxury seven day cruise.

Everyone knows at least one Goth. But how well do you know them? The perpetual question of what do Goths do for fun is answered here in this hilarious trip inside a cruise ship where the 'People in Black' share their holiday with 2500 'Norms'. Its not all about severe abuse of eye make up and comparing shades of black. The subculture with global membership in the millions remains a mystery to most outsiders as such open and honest access to its brethren is very rarely allowed. Disregard everything you know about Goth culture. 'Goth Cruise' is a landmark documentary that takes a candid and ultimately redefining look at what it really means to be Goth. [emphasis added to point out the ridiculous]

Okaaaaaay. I guess it could work with lots of sunblock and retro bathing suits. All I know is that I typically react to a sunny day on the beach as other people would to syrup of ipecac.

That is, unless these honeys are hanging about. ROWRL!

¹ Which I might be regretting dropping from my cable package now.

Reason's Greetings

As an atheist, I celebrate Christmas in the exact same way I acknowledge that Wednesday is derived from Wotansday or Thursday is Thor's day - by ignoring the connotations of the name and living my life as usual. That's not to say that I'm never evangelical about my disbelief (because, often I am), but most of the time I am content to live and let live so long as you follow two very simple rules regarding your particular brand of religious belief:

• Don't hurt me
• Don't convert me

We can play nice as long as that's the sign that marks entry to the playground.

But then there's Christmas. What's a lonely atheist to do when the nutters come out of the cupboard loaded to the mother-tit with ammunition to fend off the War Against Christmas? Usually, I declare there is no War Against Christmas - it's a false-flag¹ operation by conservative wingnuts to tar and discredit progressives and secularists. But then, the Freedom From Religion Foundation goes and posts this sign in the Washington State Capitol:

Crap.

Its not that I disagree with the statement in the sign, for by and large I think it is accurate. But it also represents two things which don't help: first, it ignores the good things that many people of faith accomplish all year 'round - especially at the holidays; and second, it is unnecessarily confrontational at the de facto² biggest religious holiday of the year.

It's the last line on the sign that's the issue: "Religion is but myth and superstition that hardens hearts and enslaves minds." God dammit, FFRF, you're playing into their hands. To riff off of John Lennon, there is no War Against Christmas unless you want it. What does that last sentence gain anyone who supports the separation of church and state, or who wants to reassure the rest of the nation that atheists are not evil and ought not to be the most reviled and mistrusted subculture in the country? Very little, I'd say.

Anyone who knows me knows that I often say outrageous things with the intent to stimulate discussion. But I also know when not to be an asshole. Like this weekend. I was in a friend's wedding as an usher and showed up in Connecticut wearing the little enamel "A" (Out Campaign) pin that I keep permanently affixed to my favorite hat. But when we went into the Catholic Church where the rehearsal and wedding were, I took off the pin, because it wasn't the right time to have a debate about whether there are any gods and if I believe in them. It was time to celebrate Joe and Dawn's nuptials.

It seems that the holiday display is a similar circumstance. There's a time to be challenging and confrontational, but there are also times to display tact and respect for other people's feelings appropriate for the occasion. I totally support putting up an atheist display (even or especially around the holidays) like this one that recently was erected on billboards in Philly:


The message is to reassure atheists, not attack Christians. But why does the FFRF have to then fulfill the expectation that atheists are arrogant, confrontational assholes determined to destroy Christmas with their display right next to a "holiday tree" and a creche?

It's less reasonable than I would expect an organization that exalts reason to be.





¹ It's a false-flag and not a straw man. Bill O'Reilly and his ilk who love stirring up this pot every year do it to stifle the voices of people who support the separation of church and state as well as the Constitutional guarantees of religious freedom, which necessarily must include the freedom to have no religion if the other guarantee is to have any meaning whatsoever.
² Yeah, I know Easter is a bigger deal in the religious calendar, but it doesn't get half the effort people of faith throw into Christmas.

If you ask me to be consistent...You're asking me to be silent.

Recently, my family converged on my sister's house out West to attend an art opening of hers and celebrate her graduation from college.¹ While there, we kids spent what seemed like an inordinate amount of time picking on Mom -- partially because she needs it to keep grounded and partially because she an easy target.

Most of the ribbing was generational. We were in a little town that just seems overrun with 60's era and neo-hippies. My sister complained that her car smelled like hippie: full of patchouli and shame. I later asked why Nore's town needed four guitar stores within two blocks of one another (U of I is not a music school). Mom replied that the town was the center of the state's "counter-culture," to which I replied, "where? All I see is the predominant culture foisted upon us by aging Baby Boomers."²

So, now flash forward three weeks to today and picture me tearing apart my apartment looking for our most treasured Thanksgiving tradition: my Arlo Guthrie Alice's Restaurant CD. I can't find it to save my life, and it won't be fucking Thanksgiving if I can't hear Arlo Guthrie sing about sitting on the Group W Bench at the military draft office opposing the war in Vietnam. Damn hippies are part of my freakin' Thanksgiving culture!

Fortunately for me, iTunes has come to the rescue. Arlo recorded a 40^th anniversary live retelling of the Massacree in 2006 and I bought it so our holiday would not be ruined (by the lack of patchouli and shame). ;) I hope he translates it well into the present situation in Iraq. That would make me happy.

I hope everyone out there has an excellent Thanksgiving holiday with plenty to be thankful for, and very very little shame. CHEERS!


On the iPod: Country Joe and the Fish - I Feel Like I'm Fixing To Die Rag









¹ Thank you again for having us out.
² It was harsher than I inteded to be, and I'm sorry, Mom. She was right BTW, in that state, I suppose hippies are still a counter culture to the faux-cowboys and Republicans. Here in Cambridge, they're as ubiquitous (and as culturally challenging) as stretches of sidewalk.

Wins and Losses

So I lost today's trial, although I am totally putting this one in my personal Win column. I knew that this client's case was dogshit, but it was dogshit about which reasonable people could differ in their opinion, so it was worth trying on the off chance that a jury would see my side of things. Turns out, only one of six of them saw things my way.

So, why a win? Well, first, I survived a motion for a directed verdict at the close of the Plaintiff's case¹ that I totally expected to close us down halfway into the trial. So that meant a case that could have been lost without the defendant uttering a word, went to the jury. During the defendant's cross-exam I totally made him lose his temper. That's a good thing.² Ultimately I convinced one of the six jurors to find in my favor. Not great.

But the REAL reason for putting this in a win column, was that after the jury was dismissed the judge held us back and complimented both me and opposing counsel. He said, "It is truly rare in these courtrooms in this current legal climate to find counsel who are as professional and well-prepared as the two of you."

Fucking sweet!

That's as close to a judge-hug as you can get. So now, I'm all high on adrenaline and trying to get out of trial mode before Comrade Squinty gets home (she doesn't like it when I cross examine her over cocktails). This might be the greatest feeling loss of my career. Professional. Well-prepared. Fuck yes!

BTW, here's a picture of me (at a benefit dinner long ago³) with Johnny Cochran and my friend and study partner, Kat (all the way to the left). I should have been in there closer with JC, but Professor Ford (in between us) was Coch-blocking me all night. Could she tell I only wanted the picture for ironic purposes?








¹ Me being counsel for the plaintiff.
² Although I should kept pushing, I might have made him jump out of the jury box at me. That would have been sweet.
³ See my hair?!!?