Fooled Me Twice

Tonight ABC aired what it has long billed as a "Two-Hour Lost Premiere Event." Ass that I am, I thought this meant a two-hour Lost premiere event. Like, two hours. Of show. You know, an event, full of Lost-iness. Two hours of it.

In point of fact, what they meant was a one-hour premiere, preceded by an hour-long "previously on Lost." But with fancy narration, and presumably premium-dollar ad breaks.

Of course, considering this is practically the only scripted show on the air right now, they could probably air five minutes of scripted content buffered by half an hour of Hurley doing jumping jacks on either side and people would still tune in.

That Whole Liberals Eating Each Other Thing

According the New York branch of the National Organization of Women (NOW), Senator Ted Kennedy's endorsement of Barack Obama rather than Hillary Clinton was "the ultimate betrayal" and "hit women hard." Furthermore, "He's joined the list of progressive white men who can't or won't handle the prospect of a woman president who is Hillary Clinton."

So if Kennedy is sexist for endorsing Obama, one assumes that the (supposedly) progressive NOW would be screaming "Racist!" with equal fervor had he endorsed Clinton? No?

This kind of inanity is why I cancelled my subscription to Ms. magazine several years back. To NOW, I offer a world of "get off my side."

Perspective

Sometimes I feel bad about myself and my life. Then I watch Intervention.

(Or more appropriately, my husband watches Intervention while I'm in the room.)

That usually solves the problem.

Here's my new daily affirmation: At least I'm not a former Olympic athlete sitting in the back of a 1980-something Volvo shooting meth into my arm while my parents tell me if I'd just give up being gay and find God that my life would be peaches and parakeets.

Pundits in Waiting

Advising a high school newspaper has its downsides: Ridiculously late nights battling antiquated computers, reading and re-reading embarrassingly pubescent articles about the ideal Valentine's date, and the bleak and certain knowledge that comma usage is in no way, shape or form taught in the Californian school system anymore.

But there are bright spots, too. My newspaper staff decided, with no input from me, to use this month's staff editorial to endorse a presidential candidate. A group of them worked together to craft a compelling narrative of their A.P. Government course's propulsion of an apathetic senior class into political consciousness. They described seniors proudly registering to vote, reading campaign literature, and advocating for their positions. They described the devastation of a student whose birthday falls on February seventh, and how she decided to participate regardless by volunteering as a poll worker. And they wrote about the candidate who had sparked their collective imagination. I'll let you guess who that was.

I've never heard a debate in my newbie newsroom as vigorous as the one that took place over this editorial. It made me proud.

I have to say, though, that I don't know how proud I would have been had they endorsed Mike Huckabee...

There Will Be Humorous Death Scenes

I strongly, strongly recommend the film There Will Be Blood. Based on Upton Sinclair's Oil, this dark comedy features the funniest bowling alley death scene I have ever seen. And I say this as a fan of The Big Lebowski.

Beyond that, in truly Sinclarian style, There Will Be Blood offers a fascinating critical insight into the collision of religion, early American capitalism and the veins of the Earth.

Three stars up, or whatever.

The Face of Things to Come?

After following the coverage of today's South Carolina Democratic primary, what stands out to me is less the fact that Barack Obama won by nearly a 30-point spread (crazily impressive thought that is) than the monstrous size of the voter turnout.

Apparently turnout in today's primary increased by a whopping 75% from the 2004 South Carolina Democratic primary. Steve Jobs would kill for that growth rate. This traditionally fire-engine red state turned out well over half a million Democratic primary voters as opposed to 290,000 four years ago.

Given the fact that South Carolinians have historically been about as likely to vote Democrat in presidential elections as to name their state food granola, today's turnout is even more stunning in comparison to last week's South Carolina Republican primary, with voters numbering 400,000 and change. Perhaps most worthy of note, Obama apparently garnered more votes today than John McCain and Ron Paul (first and second place respectively) picked up in the state last week combined.

Dum spiro spero indeed.

I'll Throw the Golden Gate in Free

Today in the shower as I stood patiently waiting for the recommended three minutes of hair conditioning time to elapse, I decided to entertain myself by reading the back of my Cherry Blossom Creamy Body Wash bottle. I learned that as part of the product's "daily beauty ritual" patrons can expect to enjoy "naturally pampering ingredients" such as moisturizing oat protein (as opposed, one presumes, to the more commonly known salinating oat protein), skin-smoothing silk protein and "conditioning milk amino acids."

Conditioning acids? Conditioning acids?

Surprisingly, the methylchloroisothiazolinone was omitted from the "naturally pampering ingredients" list and relegated to the smaller-fonted and ignominiously monikered "ingredients" list further down the bottle. I think the Bath and Body Works P.R. folks missed a real opportunity there.

New in Newspeak

I have a new favorite businessism (see, I can do it too) in the realm of education — "clientele." No, I'm not talking about people who buy cupcakes at the marching band's bake sale, or even the local businesses who purchase ad space in the yearbook. Our so-called clientele are, apparently, our students! And all this time I should have been charging at the door!

Headlining in the 400 Building: World War Two! Opening Act: Nationalism!

No.

Even more offensive is the context in which "clientele" is routinely used. Our principal regularly tells us that if we want to serve a "better clientele" we need to offer a "better product." Allow me translate from Cretin into English... if we want to serve more "upper middle class white kids" we need to "raise standardized test scores."

I'm not sure which I find more offensive — the increasingly moronic incursion of corporate jargon into my cream-colored tower, or the barely masked racism and classism masked by said jargon.

Okay, that's not true; I know which is more offensive. Funny how that doesn't make it any better. So much for "Knowing is Half the Battle." Maybe we should switch to "1,245,987 Served."

Overinvested

Tonight, for a brief moment, my husband and I thought our DVR had died, and with it every show, every movie, every random snippet of multimedia miscellanea we've committed to digital memory in the past year. It was as though a friend had died. Torn between panic and despair, actual teeth may have been gnashed.

Seven minutes, two reboots and one Google search later, our digital phoenix rose from its own binary ashes.

And there was much rejoicing.

Yay.

I think I need to hug more trees or something.

Good News for People Who Love Bad News

You know what's cuter than an angry politician? A legless puppy!

No, actually, the puppy is really cute. I just watched a slideshow of three homeless, legless Chihuahua puppies who were adopted by a vet tech and provided with, in effect, "training wheels" so they can move around like normal dogs. They look so happy! Well, in that perpetually cranky Chihuahua kind of way.

See for yourselves!

Operation Fact Check: Obama and The War

As someone who has always thought that Bill Clinton was a generally terrible person, it brings me great pleasure to call him out on being a liar. According to Bill Clinton, the idea that Barack Obama has always been opposed to the Iraq War is "a fairy tale."

Bearing in mind that while Hillary Clinton was voting to approve the war Obama was serving in the Illinois legislature and hence did not vote on the matter, here is a plethora of video footing dating back to 2002 clearly demonstrating Obama's consistent opposition to said war:



Also, here's a direct link.

(On an unrelated matter, Southwest fake-chicken nuggets with honey are ridiculously tasty.)

The Monster Mash

J.J. Abrams, the guy who made Lost, has made a movie. That movie is Cloverfield. And it is awesome.

I won’t say too much about the plot as this is an experience that really shouldn’t be spoiled, but I will say that it’s a monster movie very much in the spirit of Godzilla and King Kong... with some delightfully Abrams-esque twists, of course. And, as tends to happen in monster movies, things blow up, buildings get knocked over, and general chaos ensues. I mean, what, you thought he’d show up in Manhattan and drink tea?

Apparently so. There is a backlash movement against the film, the proponents of which opine that in a “post 9/11 world” (and if I never hear that phrase again it will be too soon) movies featuring New York buildings getting destroyed are deeply inappropriate — “unless it's talking about al Qaeda or one of al Qaeda's evil cousins, then it really should not be showing us images of the Statue of Liberty decapitated.” That’s a direct quote, by the way. I look forward to many a thoughtful sci-fi film about al Qaeda’s evil cousins.

In the meantime, guess I’d better go start burning every copy of Planet of the Apes I can get my hands on or the terrorists will win.

Down with post-apocalyptica! Up with kool-aid!

One Fish, Two Fish, Dead Fish, Blue Fish

When I was a little girl our crazy neighbor lady asked my mom if we wanted her two goldfish because she was going on vacation and wouldn't be able to take care of them. My mom agreed, and my brother and I gained two more members for our bizarre menagerie (other residents included a gecko, two dogs and a bird).

The crazy neighbor lady's reaction was that she was so awfully glad that we were taking them, because otherwise she would have thrown them on the grass and hit them with a frying pan until they were dead.

People are very strange.

Would You Like Blood on Your Hands with That?

According to this Human Rights Watch article, "The Chinese government should abolish the use of income-generating child labor schemes in middle and junior high schools because of their chronic abuses." Should. As in, currently does not. Apparently, while the government approves of such, ah, occupation learning practices as improving school facilities or "producing small handicrafts over summer breaks" (read: Crappy Meal toys) as a part of the state-approved Work and Study Program, recent reports have surfaced that students are being placed in heavy manufacturing positions as part of state school curriculum.

I know what argument I'm going to marshal the next time a student tells me I give too much homework.

Or... the next time Schwarzenegger announces impending statewide education budget cuts...

Gimme a Break

On Earth-As-It-Should-Be, running a Google image search for "puppies" should be an instant and easy pick-me-up after a long and arduous day. A few snuggly labradors, a pug in a flower basket and life is good, right?

On Earth-As-It-Is, the eighth picture that pops up upon running said search is a puppy born with edema, which is about as appealing as it sounds.

Come on, universe.

(Granted, the presence of a baby Weimaraner in a wizard's hat on the next page helped. A little.)

A Little Bit Cheesy

I decided to make a daring switch from Mama Celeste's frozen cheese pizza to Mama Celeste's frozen four-cheese pizza, believing that the result would be a per-inch increase in the quantity of cheese. This belief seemed to be supported by the more cheese-laden picture on the front of the four-cheese box (seriously, it's the same picture with more cheese photoshopped on). Confident in my purchase, I hurried home to partake of what would surely be a veritable feast of cheesy goodness.

Imagine my disappointment to discover that "four-cheese pizza" actually indicates that the pizza contains four pieces of cheese.

Damn.

This Just In?

Today, in between learning that Senator John McCain (of "only an a—hole would put together a budget like this" fame**) is calling for a higher level of dialogue among the Republican candidates and that Senator Barack Obama has proposed a $75 billion economic relief package including immediate middle class tax cuts and a one-time increase in Social Security payments, I learned something else — Britney Spears has lost visitation rights with her children.

Who cares??? Why oh why must I subjected to the intimate judicial goings on of some has-been pop trollop when I'm trying to WATCH THE NEWS?!?!?

Excuse me while I try not to hyperventilate.

See. Here's the thing. I walk around all day long with all manner of utterly useless junk in my head. The Lost numbers are 4-8-15-16-23-42. President Lincoln changed his facial hair stylings because some little girl wrote him a letter saying that he ought to. My mother's baby-sitter grew up to marry Alex Trebec. See, useless! So the last thing I need when I'm trying to wade through the spinning smoking scraps of scurrilousness that comprise politics in contemporary America is getting poked in the eye by Britney "Lousy Weave" Spears.

**And Now Your Moment of Zen:

Pete Domenici, the senator who John McCain called an a—hole, endorsed McCain's presidential candidacy on Monday.

Fact Check 101

I’m sure those of you watching election coverage have been inundated over the past several days with the “change versus experience” narrative. You know, the story of the well-intentioned upstart sapling who wants change, Barack Obama, and the seasoned political veteran with (in her own words) thirty-five years of experience, Hillary Clinton. In this scenario, the voter finds him or herself forced to choose between someone with good ideas and rousing rhetoric but the inability to get anything accomplished, and the less inspiring but eminently capable opponent with a proven track record. What’s a poor voter to do?

Well, the poor voter’s first step is probably to turn off the damn TV and do a little de-spinning. I’d like to combat this absurd “change versus experience” lie with something I call facts. Chris Matthews, pay attention.

Fact: Hillary Clinton first held public office when she was elected as New York’s U.S. Senator in 2000. She currently has seven years of elected political experience, during which time she was directly responsible to a constituency.

Fact: Seven and thirty-five are two very different numbers.

Fact: Barack Obama first held public office when he was elected to the Illinois State Senate in 1997. He was elected to the U.S. Senate in 2004. He has eleven years of elected political experience, during which time he was directly responsible to a constituency.

Fact: Prior to holding political office, Hillary Clinton worked for the corporate law firm Rose Law. Clients included WalMart and TCBY. She also served on the board of directors for several corporations – Lafarge and, interestingly, WalMart and TCBY.

Fact: While Hillary Clinton served on the WalMart board (1986 to 1992) the corporation earned a reputation as one of the most dedicated and effective union-busters in the nation.

Fact: Prior to holding political office, Barack Obama worked as a community organizer and civil rights attorney and also taught constitutional law at the University of Chicago Law School for eleven years.

Fact: Prior to becoming president, Bill Clinton held the office of Arkansas Attorney General for two years (he ran unopposed) and Arkansas Governor for twelve years (it would have been longer, but he was voted out for a while and then came back). He had fourteen years of elected political experience, but zero years of elected political experience outside of the state of Arkansas before he became president.

Fact: When Bill Clinton was sworn in as President, he was 46 years old.

Fact: Barack Obama is currently 46 years old. If he wins the presidential election, he will be 47 years old when he is sworn in.

What can be made of all of this? Let’s see if I can play Hardball, Chris Matthews. Barack Obama has more elected political experience and than Hillary Clinton does. Where Hillary Clinton has spent her life as a shill for corporate greed, Barack Obama has spent his teaching and applying American democratic principles. Furthermore, he is probably better prepared for the presidency than Bill Clinton was when he took office.

This is why it’s called the idiot box.

The Buying of the President

One of the most important questions to ask about a politician is who will own him or her after the election is over. For example, a candidate put into office on the backs of oil companies is unlikely to preside over a pacifist presidency marked by scientific automotive developments that decrease U.S. dependency for foreign oil. You know, hypothetically or whatever.

One of the best ways to figure who is owned by whom is to visit The Buying of the President, a campaign finance website operated by watchdog group The Center for Public Integrity. Their candidates page scores each candidate based upon his or her level of personal and public finance disclosure. The information therein is pretty revealing.

The highest scoring candidate (read "greatest financial transparency") is Barack Obama, receiving a score of 4/7 and the distinction of being the only candidate to have revealed not only non-required public finance information but also his personal tax returns.

Tied for second place with scores of 2/7 are John McCain, Dennis Kucinich and Hillary Clinton. Third is held collectively by Duncan Hunter, Mike Huckabee and Mike Gravel with scores of 1/7.

Those candidates who have disclosed nothing beyond what is legally required of them, receiving scores of 0/7, are Rudy Giuliani, Ron Paul, Alan Keyes, Fred Thompson and — now this is interesting — John Edwards.

Sadly, not one of these candidates has divulged his or her political tax returns — not even Obama. This is exactly why people like me keep voting for Ralph Nader.

I Get an F in Being Six

Today at the gym my trainer attempting to have me work out like a ninja. As in, he actually said "just like a ninja" several times. There was one activity I actually recorded in my log as Leaping Diagonal Ninja Squats for lack of a better term. These were followed by repeatedly jumping into the air to land balanced on the edge of a box without making a single sound on landing (the successful completion of which earned me fifteen ninja points, redeemable for either one set of plastic nunchuks or a blood vendetta). Feeling relatively samurai-ish, my ego was promptly kamikazed as I was then cruelly forced to jump rope. Jump rope. And land lightly. Like a ninja.

I have vague recollections of jumping rope as a child. Unless I'm in one of those movies where aliens altered my memories (for the purpose, one assumes, of stealing my baby whose existence has been cleansed from my neuronal networks like puke from a onesie), I'm fairly certain I was somewhat adept at the skill. The operative there is apparently "was."

I mean, sure, today I could hop over the rope and whatnot. While it was lying on the floor. Okay, even a few times while it was swinging around my body like some kind of bullwhip. But when it came to hopping up and down in some funky diagonal pattern on one foot? Not so much.

Now excuse me while I go don black slipper socks and engage in mortal battle with a surprisingly spry old blind man while standing on a fence post.

Rude Much?

There are two types of people in the world — those who believe there are two types of people in the world and those who don't. If I were one of the former, I would assert the following:

There are two types of people in the world — those who are perfectly comfortable purchasing seven books at Barnes and Noble and asking the only working cashier to gift wrap each individual book while the line behind you grows literally into the double digits, and those who prefer not to do Satan impersonations while shopping.

A Modest Proposal

ATTN: Californians

Do you enjoy shouldering a disproportionate amount of the federal tax burden? Handicapping our biotech industry because someone somewhere in Arkansas thinks stem cells are people? Watching in disgust as the American economy tanks while we remain one of the top ten economies internationally?

If not, then get involved with the Californian independence movement and join the fight for secession!

Now I know what you're thinking — if we secede we'll have to pay really high tariffs on all those wonderful manufactured goods from Michigan and Pennsylvania and whatnot. Oh really? What manufactured goods? All those jobs have long since been outsourced to Mexico thanks to NAFTA! As a nation located in North America, the People's Republic of California (working title) would continue to profit hand over fist off of the indentured servitude of Mexican children. Thanks to the Clintons (who rammed NAFTA through congress in 1993), California can retain its top-tier economic status without its citizens having to feel honor-bound to pay twice as much for domestically manufactured goods.

What's more, we've been producing the lion's share of the nation's food for the past 50 years, averaging $32 billion in profits annually. You want cheese from our happy cows, Las Vegans? Better double down.

Of course I anticipate that there may be problems, namely illegal immigration. We just need to lay it down up front. Texans need not apply, and should probably go get a job, the lazy bastards.

Come on, fellow golden staters, and join with me now. Free the Bear! Free the Bear! Free the Bear!

Spidey Senses Tingling

Someone somewhere sat down and thought, what is it that no one has that everyone really needs? And that someone invented the Spiderman Pumpkin Bomb Replica.

Creepy spandex suit not included.

E Plural-us Unum

Chris Matthews has finally shined a light on why politicians of all stripes are so insufferable — all they do is talk about themselves! Who wants to spend time with someone like that? Granted, considering that the politician is selling self-as-product, a certain amount of self-reference is necessary. But the more election coverage to which I subject myself, the more I feel like I'm watching Marcia Brady run a brush through her hair 100 times before crawling between perfumed sheets.

Let's take a look at Hillary Clinton's perhaps best-known speech, "It Takes a Village to Raise a Child". The word "I" appears 13 times in the first 15 sentences ("thank you thank you thank you's" excluded).

Now let's contrast that against Barack Obama's keynote address at the 2004 Democratic Convention, where in just as many sentences he uses the word "I" zero times. And — here's the kicker — it's his life story he's talking about! There's another word that tends to pop up in Obama's speeches that Clinton doesn't seem to know much about: We. Regardless of whether there are any substantive policy differences between the two — and I'm not convinced that there are — Obama seems to be selling people themselves; the notion that we are capable of taking meaningful political action, not merely capable of selecting some other person-product to do it for us.

There's another politician who liked that "we" word a lot, and the day he became president he said, " We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution." Not "I will carry on the spirit the revolution" but "we are the revolution together." This is not to say that Barack Obama is any John F. Kennedy, but at least he can recognize a product worth peddling.

I wish more politicians would take a page out of that book. If I wanted to hear people talk about themselves ad nauseum, I'd let my teenage students hang out in my classroom at lunch.

The Eight-Year Itch

Last night while I was at the gym, I saw a woman on a treadmill gazing transfixed at one of the myriad ceiling-mounted televisions with one of the most rapt expressions I’ve ever seen on a human face. Curious to see what she watching, I sleuthily glanced in the mirror and discovered it was, lo and behold, CNN election coverage. Well, color me pleasantly surprised!

Thing is, I glanced over a few minutes later and the station had switched to ads – itch cream, station wagons, weed killer. Same damn expression. Barely even blinking.

This woman was either an actual zombie, or really itchy. I don’t know. But here’s one reason she should be more interested in the democratic process than her rhododendrons — unemployment just hit a two-year high.

Can’t stave that itch off with no snake oil, lady.

Neigh

In the spirit of lightening up, today I have a music rec. If you like twangy hippies who remind you of Patti Smith, then check out Band of Horses. I particularly recommend the tracks "Is There a Ghost" and "The Funeral".

See how nice I am when I spend the day reading about Phoenicians instead of watching the news?

And Nary a Bill-O in Sight

I have a theory : Khazad-Dum (of Gandalfian fame) was not a geological chasm at all, but was actually Rupert Murdoch’s pants pocket. Only a cavern deep enough to swallow Tolkein’s fiercest wizard is deep and dark enough to contain all of Murdoch’s money. I know this because when I wanted to watch Iowa primary coverage at 11:00 last night, the only station still carrying live coverage was my dear friend Fox News. So I watched.

It was… edifying. I learned that watching Republican TV apparently means that I’m likely to be in the market for joint and cartilege formula as well as a home security system (now that was a funny ad — beware youths in hoodies who burst through your front door at three o’clock in the afternoon when you’re home alone washing dishes while your husband is at work… or with his mistress).

In addition to some amusing implications about the Fox audience based on the station’s marketing assumptions, I picked up a few other interesting items.

First, Fox News refuses to invite libertarian Republican Party contender Ron Paul to participate in their televised Republican primary debates because in their words “he’s not going to be president” — this despite acknowledging that he more than doubled the number of votes received by invitee Rudy Giuliani in the Iowa primary with ten percent of the vote. Who needs actual human voters when we have 24-hour news stations to select our viable candidates for us!

Second, Rush Limbaugh hates Mike Huckabee almost as much as he likes making fun of his own drug-induced hearing loss. Hey, I confess, I’d like the guy if he weren’t kind of a fascist.

Third, the only women Fox allows to grace the screen are those with bleach blonde hair and primary color sweaters.

Fourth, there’s at least one Fox commentator capable of uttering the phrases “rich patrician Republican” and “I think Rush is wrong” — in the same sentence, even!

Fifth, Mike Huckabee brought Chuck Norris up on stage with him, while Mitt Romney brought along Olympic skater Dan Jansen. I think I now understand the election results.

Having now officially walked a mile in someone else’s Manolos, I’m going to go shower. At length.

I Do NOT Heart Huckabees

I've been casually watching CNN's coverage of the Iowa presidential primary, and the station has now projected that Mike Huckabee will receive the state's Republican nomination and that Barack Obama will receive the state's Democratic nomination. I have mixed feelings about Barack Obama which I'll probably write about in the coming weeks, but that's not what this post is about. Instead I decided to look into a question to which I've paid little attention until today, and that is who exactly is this Mike Huckabee guy?

I am so, so glad I asked.

I'm sure you're all familiar with the expression, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." I by and large find this to be true. I am equal parts my mother and my father, as is my brother (although in vastly different configurations, which makes for enjoyably lively family dinners!). I believe that the good things I do and my accomplishments in life are greatly influenced by their parenting, which occurred both through example and through explicit communication (admittedly, often resented at the time). Equally powerful is their influence in the choices I have not made; in the mistakes I have avoided. My actions are guided by the ethical system I developed as a child under their care, and I'm proud of that fact.

I now make the following statement as the daughter of good parents and as a teacher who has had the heartbreaking experience of working with some pretty disturbed teenagers: When there is something really wrong with a kid, there's something really wrong at home. When I interact with a student who clearly lacks qualities such as empathy and good judgment and respect for living things, I surmise that there has been a significant breakdown in parenting to the immense detriment of the child (and to all with whom the child will interact throughout his or her lifetime).

It was through that lens which I approached a news story exploring the circumstances surrounding Mike Huckabee's son David getting fired from a job as a Boy Scout camp counselor due to having tortured and hanged a dog. Tortured a dog. Even writing it now makes me feel ill.

As if that fact alone weren't enough to leave me with a permanent distrust for all things Huckabee, I went on to read that then-Governor Mike Huckabee fired the Arkansas police chief, John Bailey, because Bailey wouldn't help him cover up the incident. According to former Little Rock FBI Chief I. C. Smith, "Without question, [Huckabee] was making a conscious attempt to keep the state police from investigating his son."

Since the incident was made public, Huckabee has asserted that his son did not engage in "intentional torture," and a campaign official said that he "'regrets' the incident." Oh, well, if he's SORRY, I guess it's all good. Huckabee, of course, also claims that he suddenly fired Bailey for reasons totally unrelated to his pesky ethics... reasons that apparently failed to manifest themselves until after Bailey refused to lie about the fact that David Huckabee hanged a dog. You'll be pleased to know that David Huckabee later made Eagle Scoute.

Lest you think that this clearly sociopathic behavior poor judgment was simply symptomatic of David's youth, consider the following: he was arrested for trying to get on a plane with a loaded gun this past April! (Detained terror suspects will be pleased to know that he was appropriately fined accordingly.) Guess he just forgot that he was carrying a loaded pistol in an airport. I may do crazy things like not eat chickens (or hang them), but I can definitely say I've never tried to board a plane with a Glock.

Good job with the bambino, Mr. Would-Be President.

I don't know what the people of Iowa were thinking, but I know what I think — a man who raises an animal killer and then fires an employee for refusing to compromise his own ethics has no place in the White House.

Rocking All the Way to the Bank

There's this thing I have my journalism students do during the first week of school where they bring in any magazine of their choice and cover every single ad with the same color construction paper. At first they think it's pretty fun — look ma, no work — but then they start to notice how much blue or green or red paper there is. It's pretty powerful.

The only magazines to which I subscribe are The Nation and Harper's, both of which boast an extremely low ad to content ratio. I just thumbed through the copy of The Nation sitting on my coffee table and discovered that only 11 out of the 40 pages were ads. Furthermore, it wasn't until page 14 that I found the first full-page ad. Pretty cool. The January 2008 issue of Harper's had an even lower 18 percent ad content, albeit a little more front-heavy in the distribution.

I figured my magazine collection probably wouldn't accurately reflect the quantity of advertising contained in the average American bird-cage liner, so I did a little research. According to a publishing industry website, the average magazine's ad to content ratio is 1:1, meaning that a full fifty percent of what you're paying for when you pick up a copy of Newsweek or Sports Illustrated is the privilege to be sold to someone else.

Of course, that fifty percent average takes into account magazines like The Nation and Adbusters (which contains exactly zero percent advertising). That means that somewhere there's got to be a magazine that's pretty much entirely ads! Sure enough, Vogue boasts an impressive 87 percent ad content. Somewhere a board member is very, very happy. (Then again, with a magazine like that, can you really tell the difference between the ads and the editorial content anyway?)

Today I strayed outside of my little haven of lefty news rags and thumbed through the latest Rolling Stone (which, for all that it styles itself as a lefty news rag, is no such thing). It was sort of like reading the The Nation upside down and backwards, because I don't think it was until page 15 that I actually saw one iota of non-advertising content — and that was just the table of contents! Or should I say, "contents."

All I know is that by the time I'd gotten halfway through, I felt strangely compelled to smoke, drink and then go driving on a twisty mountain road. In that order. Also, I kind of wanted to change my middle name to "Killah" but to be fair, that's probably been building for a while now.

The Lines Are Your Friend

In the words of my husband, "See, this is what happens when you venture out into the world of other people. You find a bunch of morons."

I don't want to start off the the new year dwelling on the inadequacies of human nature, but sometimes you just have to stop and marvel. In clicking randomly from link to link this afternoon, I somehow stumbled onto a message board full of runners engaging in a spirited debate about — not making this up — whether on not runners should wear iPods in races.

It's good to have something to be passionate about. I think.

The case against iPods contained three main arguments. First, they ostensibly cause an insurance liability for the event coordinators because iPod wearers, in a fit of AC/DC-induced obliviousness, may inadvertently wander in front of a big rig. Um, isn't in my own fault if I walk in front of a moving vehicle? Also, I guess I'm at a loss as to why it's a bad thing when an adult dumb enough to dart out in front of oncoming traffic suffers the predictable consequence, so I moved immediately onto the next argument.

The second objection to iPods (and I'm barely paraphrasing here) was that if you can't run without music then you're not a real runner, you're just a "weekend warrior." Golly, if Joe "Lance Armstrong" Smith doesn't think I'm a real athlete, I don't think I'll have the strength to go out in public ever again.

The third argument was even better than the other two, if you can imagine that. In short, "Why can't you people just follow the rules??? If you don't like the rules, don't sign up!" Yeah, well, if you don't like being around people who lack your inexplicable need to always do what you're told, why don't you sit this one out?

That last argument was the one that sent me scrambling for my soapbox. Assertions to the effect of "if you don't like something about an organization don't participate" (often seen in its "well maybe you should just move to another country" form) irk me greatly. We don't live in a dictatorship; we are well within our rights to attempt to changes rules we don't like, and conscientiously refusing to obey rules is a time-honored form of resistance. Ask Gandhi.

In my experience, a rule exists for one reason — to benefit the person/s who made it. I should know; I'm a teacher. I really don't understand the personality type that seems to genuinely believe rules should be followed simply because they exist. There's nothing inherently right or just about any particular rule; these codes merely reflect the desires of those within a particular community or political entity who possess the power to have their desires reified as law. Travel through history and/or geography and you'll infinite, conflicting rules. Things which are expected in one culture give offense in another.

There are only two reasons to follow a rule: either because you agree with it, or because the penalty for not following the rule is greater than the inconvenience you suffer through obedience. I generally follow the rules of my society, as often for the second reason as the first. I stop at red lights largely because the stoplight system is a good way to prevent accidents, but also because I don't want to get a ticket for a California rolling stop while turning right. But if I do roll through a red light at one in the morning when no one is around, I really don't think anyone suffers, and I certainly don't think I'm throwing the world into disarray by using my own judgment in formulating my actions rather than doing what I'm supposed to do just because I'm supposed to do it.

At any rate, the case for allowing iPods was a bit simpler — quit being a goose-stepping little busy-body and run your own damn race.