One Reporter's Opinion

2008-01-22T18:10:00.000-06:00

For You Fred-Heads Out There

Now that you wasted your early vote on Fred Thompson, it's time to get rid of that Fred '08 sticker on your SUV.

Don't say you weren't warned.

2008-01-21T21:01:00.000-06:00

A Half-Assed Return to One Reporter's Opinion

Over the last couple of weeks, I have been pressed into service to help out with a couple of computer issues with members of my extended family. Not that I'm not happy to help out - I do know my stuff when it comes to navigating either PCs or Macs, and I give far, far better advice and support than your typical jamokes on first-level call at Dell or the Geek Squad.

But I had my first "opportunity" to mess with Windoze Vista the other day, and my curiosity got piqued. I can't help it. I'm inclined to try to figure these things out and work with them and massage them, make them a tall drink and get them all a' tizz... but I reveal too much.

I gotta say (and I say this as a former MCSE and reformed Windows bigot) that Vista is an ungodly godawful goddamned mess of an OS. It's klunky and bitchy and hypersensitive and far too boorish for words. It's fat and sluggish and pretends to be something that it's not. Vista is the beer-drunk of operating systems.

That didn't stop me from buying a copy at the CompUSA fire-sale and doing my best to set it up on my MacPro to run in Parallels. I got it to run, but it did involve a couple of gyrations that would be unseemly to admit to here. I'll let the guys at Daily Tech explain how I might have gotten this to work as an adjunct to my Windows 2000 emulator.

I mean, really, people. Does it take 10GB to run an Intel platform? My sources say no - Linux has been grinding happily at many Pentium-class processors for a half of a generation now. Mac OSX 10.5 is around 6GB at a full install; less if you strip out all of the languages you probably won't need (thank you, Monolingual).

But at least I'll be able to sit at my computer and figure out what my mom is talking about when she's trying to get her new laptop to talk to her printer over an ad-hoc wireless LAN. That alone was worth $120 to me, even if it was for this PO/S that will see maybe five hours usage in the next 12 months.

2007-12-11T19:53:00.001-06:00

The Random Facts meme...

I'm taking this one upon myself, as I feel a common sense of detachment from blogging, a la Hayden Childs. I have not been tagged, but this seemed like an interesting exercise in introspection - or at least a chance to talk up my brushes with fame.

1) My first meeting with anyone famous was with Bobby Short - he'd been a student at the primary school that I had attended, and he was still close friends with the principal of said school. She'd invited him to play at a school assembly at which I was named "Best Boy Citizen," so it was my privilege to get to shake this man's hand, even though I had no earthly idea who he was (other than being a formidable singer, amply demonstrated by his rendition of "White Christmas" moments before I was introduced to him). To my 5th grade mind, this was all but a matter of course. Now, I would have truly appreciated the opportunity.

2) I think every male of the human species remembers when he was first smacked, flicked, kneed, swatted, punched or had otherwise had his genitals violently treated. Mine was during same 5th grade year, when I was a member of the Triple-A Safety Patrol. I don't know what the big deal was, but it was supposed to be some sort of honor to be chosen to arrive super-extra early and to don a reflective orange belt, for the sole purpose of blocking traffic while other students used the crosswalk. I was at the corner of English and Gilbert in Danville, IL and another member of the Elite Traffic Squad put hands on my shoulders and raised his knee square into my crotch. I don't remember what I said to him to precipitate this sequence of events, but I do remember the shuddering pain - as well as the black bruise on my glans. Yeee. Ouch.

3) My first big rock concert was seeing Hall & Oates on the Big Bam Boom tour. General Public was the opening act, and I had traveled to Tulsa, OK to see this show. I think I was the only person who came away more impressed with General Public than the main act. To this day, of everyone involved in that tour, I would have loved to have met Dave Wakeling.

4) My biggest fear is needles. I suppose that this qualifies as "white coat syndrome," but as the 5th grade seems to inform most of my adult life today, I had received a measles booster in school. I remember really having a lot of anxiety about it, and when I finally got to the front of the line to get the shot in my left arm, I vaguely recall thinking, "Gee, that wasn't so bad." From what I recall, I was able to walk from the basement of the school all the way back into my afternoon class before I was completely overcome by swirling black & yellow spots. I remember the look of my canvas shoes and being asked, "Where are you going?" before passing out cold. I hold the scent of smelling salts in my nose to this day - and I still can't get so much as a finger prick before displaying signs of shock. I can't even watch other people being poked or prodded, and seeing an IV is about enough to send me back on my heels. I pray I never develop insulin-dependent Type I diabetes.

5) If I could do any single one thing, irrespective of my physical condition, it would probably be to trek from Lukla along the Dudh Khosi to the south-route Everest Base Camp on the Khumbu Glacier. No matter how many times I see stuff about Everest expeditions, I am always enthralled by the stories of the people who choose to put their lives on the line for a chance at the summit. Perhaps George Leigh Mallory was onto something when he quipped, "Because it's there." Now, I wouldn't ever dream of climbing the mountain itself - I think that would be absolutely beyond my ability or ambitions... but I'd at least like to see the sumbitch up close, and with my own eyes, and on the power of my own two feet. (After the bout of altitude sickness I had at 10,000 feet this summer, I think that's about all the ambition that my alveoli can handle.) And if I could ever meet David Breashears or Ed Viesturs or Jon Krakauer or Jamling Tenzing Norgay or Araceli Segarra or Sir Edmund Hillary, well, I'd about be overcome. Fat chance of meeting them here in the relative flatlands.

6) I get a lot of compliments from total strangers about my hair. Right now, it's a mess of salt-&-pepper curl, and it hardly reaches my collar. Think Help!-era John Lennon with a Jew-fro. I am, however, not Jewish - and I had stick-straight hair growing up. I kinda don't get what the fuss is about, but the positive reinforcement has me holding off a wig-busting for the time being. I've long wondered how I would look with longer hair, although I still think that it's more likely that I'll wind up looking like Buddy Miles rather than Eddie Vedder.

7) I met the governor of Tennessee - Phil Bredesen - at a local McDonald's. I was sorely tempted to deal him a cockpunch. Sorta like an inverse meaning of "shaking hands with the governor."

8) The most wealthy person I've ever eyeballed at an arms' length is Rupert Murdoch. I had been working for this little startup company called America Online as a temp, and he'd come to this little corner of the Chicago Tribune tower to see these piddling things called The Internets. His cologne bore the faintest strain of sulfur.

2007-06-26T19:35:00.000-05:00

Of Reunions and Blog Tag

Courtesy of this post, which was a bit of a shaming after my promise in comments related to this post, I am catching up in my all-too-typical very-remiss fashion. Mea culpa.

And your post comes at an interesting moment in time, Mr. Childs. This nostalgia jag is at a crossroads with this year, 20 years from when I turned 18, which is coincidentally the year of my 20-year high school reunion.

I'm not going. I haven't been to Coffeyville in nearly that long, and I'm thinking that it's not nearly long enough. I have tried a few paths to nostalgia, from being involved in the class reunion page at Yahoo! Groups to penning a few letters to former classmates. I am not exactly sure who remembers the years between 1983 - 1987 in Coffeyville, KS with much fondness, but I will readily cop to disaffection for much of the experience. The times in that interval which I do remember fondly often has strong connections to music, but seldom any of the #1's to have hit the charts. I recall having a class notebook which had better cover-art detail than the notes kept within, and I similarly recall that 1987 was the year I discovered Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables, Psychocandy, Big Lizard in My Backyard, and got into Never Mind the Bollocks for the first time.

As regards the reunion of the class of 1987: One of the central events planned is a large-ish tailgating event for a football game with still-traditional rivals from nearby Independence. I don't know exactly how that idea got developed, but that sounds like the sort of thing that would set the Wrong Tone for the entire weekend. No thank you. I never liked the whole sports scene much in the first place, so I can't imagine being whisked off into some positive frame of mind. Being surrounded by modern-day high-schoolers in close proximity to the people with whom I'd gone through the "high school experience?" That sounds like a recipe for the sort of dysphoria that might take me four or five years of electroconvulsive therapy to overcome.

Case in point: The number 1 song when I turned 18 was January 24 - February 6: At this Moment - Billy Vera and The Beaters.

Having completely forgotten what this song must have sounded like (and I know that I knew it, since all that was available in a 4-state region was AOR or Top 40 radio), I went to the iTunes Store for a refresher, if you could call it such.

Oh, dear God. Maudlin, blue-eyed "soul." I remember that now. I'd tried to shut it from my consciousness, but now I am recalling slow dances at the local VFW for the senior prom; me, resplendent in full-white tux with black tie & cummerbund. Guh.

Well. With that setting the tone, let's dive in and see what else we have. Following Hayden's example, I'm going to investigate from the bottom up on this page.

68. Why Can't I Be You - The Cure. OK, now this isn't quite so bad. Boy, did I ever like The Cure. That seems like a guilty admission by my current standards, but by my lights at the time, The Cure was something of a revelation. I think this was the first "new" album they'd done since I'd purchased Standing on the Beach/Staring at the Sea on cassette from a Camelot Records in Topeka. My wont was to peruse the cassettes in alpha order. I just stopped anywhere I saw a name that sounded interesting, and "The Cure" sounded interesting. For the price, this comp was a natural. Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me was their foray into Top 40'dom, and this was the first single. If I listen to anything by The Cure these days? It's more likely from Faith or Seventeen Seconds (which I had known as the Happily Ever After release).

61. Touch of Grey - Grateful Dead. This was more or less my introduction to The Dead. I didn't get it then, and I still don't get it to this day. Hippie-dom was rampant in the years to follow, and many people have come and gone who've tried to convince me of the genius of Jerry Garcia, and I have yet to have the epiphany. Still - cool video.

32. Where The Streets Have No Name - U2. Although The Joshua Tree was the high-water mark for U2, I didn't quite know it at the time. I still recall splitting the wrapper off of this release on the day that it came out, and I spent a lot of time with it in the coming months (that is, when I wasn't wrapped up in Rodney Anonymous and his skewed take on human existence). Still, I listen to the chugging, soaring, heavily delayed guitar of The Edge which opens this track, and I can vaguely see Bono's supercilious mug taking front stage atop that Los Angeles building, and I can't help but smile. I don't recall ever loving big-time rock stars like I'd loved U2. To this day, though, I have yet to see them in concert.

24. Brass Monkey - Beastie Boys. I didn't like this song in high school. I thought Beastie Boys were awful, unserious, and one-hit wonders. I didn't pay attention until Ill Communication. So the relationship I have to the BBoys has always contained an element of lost time for me.

7. Oh Yeah - Yello. The theme to Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Ah, John Hughes movies. Lighthearted, hackneyed romps through the world of teen alienation, reaching embarrassing levels of both phony and maudlin - and I have seen them all. What more need be said about 1987?

2007-05-15T22:22:00.000-05:00

Regarding the Death of Jerry Falwell

A charlatan is dead.

I will take this as an opportunity to commemorate his death with more anger than sorrow -- and for a man who heaped scorn upon the least of his brethren at every opportunity, this seems at the very least to be consistent with the man's example. Not that his is an example that I would take as commandment to follow, mind. You get the point, I hope, dear readers. (Job 4:8)

It is without the least twinge of irony that I make the following disclaimer:

Speaking ill of the dead was Jerry Falwell's stock in fucking trade, so anyone with a pious instinct upon reading this is officially required to spare me the outrage.

***

I've heard much about divine reward and divine punishment, and I've read that people reserve the judgment of Falwell to his Creator. If there's justice to be meted out, the argument goes, then let it be so. He'll get his now, if he didn't get his before his death. And deserved or not, he's gone on to a better place.

I say, "Fuckabuncha that otherworld nonsense."

Falwell had every opportunity to direct his earthly energies into making this a more accepting world, a more humble world, a world more in awe of The Divine Truth. But did he? No. He fearmongered, and wagged his pudgy fingers in our faces, and callously dismissed the legitimate suffering of thousands (AIDS pandemic, 9/11 to name a couple) to push his narrow interpretation of a Bronze Age text on a largely credulous public. He was a criminal, unfairly and unrepentantly abusing his tax-exempt status as "holy man" to pour dollars into a coordinated campaign to blur the distinction between *his* church and *our* state, vandalizing the very notions upon which the latter was founded.

And now we have power-brokers of all stripes sucking up to the many who follow in his wake, each trying to out-capitulate and out-pander the other, each drooling at the prospect of tapping that ample voter file.

The well is deeply poisoned.

***

Of course, the litany goes, how dare any of us who were offended by this man's mission dare utter an unkind word about all of that. He leaves behind a family, suffering a loss.

To this?

He got to die with his "reputation" intact, such as it is. The only time you see these scumbags humbled and repentant is when they're caught and exposed for the hypocrites that they are. Ted Haggard. Jimmy Swaggart. Jim Bakker. That's the only justice we ever could have hoped to have, and now that opportunity is gone forever. His legacy of creeping theocracy remains, however.

I would have rejoiced if he'd been reedemed in life -- the only life that any of us can ever know.

A charlatan is dead.

His family is suffering now? You ask me, he got off easy.

***

There are those among you who would say that I celebrate this man's death. Far from it.

There's nothing here to celebrate.

2007-03-06T17:51:00.000-06:00

From an unidentified right-wing apologist, shedding crocodile tears for the now-convicted felon, I. Lewis "Scooter" Libby:

I am so sad today. This is utter madness.

No, utter madness is a sham perjury rap for getting a consensual blowjob while in office.

I know that there are those who would liken US Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald to the rogue Independent Counsel Kenneth Starr (and we can all thank David Souter for usurping Starr's once-intended federal appointment), but to me, that's comparing Elliott Ness and his techniques of law 'n order to Tomás de Torquemada.

Oh, there are those who'd still have you believe that Fitzgerald is bent on destroying Republicans, what with his "wanton prosecution" of disgraced IL governor George Ryan, but then they'd be left to puzzle over why Fitzgerald had pursued prosecution of IL governor Blago's (D) benefactor Antoin Rezko or his "partisan pursuit" of Mayor Daley's jobs chief James Laski in the Chicago "Hired Truck" scandal.

No Saturday Night Massacres forthcoming in this case, I'm afraid.

However, I assume, as do many others, that the ink was dry on the pardon paperwork this afternoon before you could say "Elliott Abrams."

Justice by the half-measure... guess I'll settle.

2007-03-01T19:13:00.000-06:00

Tourette De Force

Shit. So some fuckin' cunt is getting all pissy because some cocksucker swears like a motherfucker?

That really gets on my tits.

2007-03-01T18:26:00.000-06:00

Completism

Typically, when I get into something in the way of music, I tend to want to hear every note of every recording ever done by said artist.

My latest completist jag - the music of Jorge Ben Jor. Most of what he's done is rare, out of print, and foreign to boot.

The penultimate was The Kinks. Gee, they only had, what... a couple dozen studio albums?

Oh, not to mention Guided By Voices and assorted side projects of Robert Pollard, Tobin Sprout, and the Tobias Brothers (Keene Brothers, Lifeguards, Go Back Snowball, Airport 5, Cobra Verde, Doug Gillard, Acid Ranch, Hazzard Hotrods, etc. etc. etc.). Only about a metric ton of stuff there.

Why don't I ever do this the easy way?

2007-02-28T21:56:00.000-06:00

Good Habits Are Hard To Start

Get me on a bad habit any day.

Awright. One Reporter's Opinion, part trois or so.

Hey... didja know that Al Gore has a big house? And that this house uses electricity? And that this is news?

Sheesh.

So, let me get this straight.

When Democrats are wealthy, they're not supposed to talk about poverty if they live in a big house. When Democrats live in a big house, they're apparently not supposed to use public utilities to heat it or to provide light.

However, when you're a Republican, you can talk about restoring honor and dignity to the White House even if you allow male escorts in the press pool, you appoint people to rig federal procurements, you destroy the careers of US covert assets, you pay journalists to pimp your policy agenda, or you waste billions of borrowed dollars and thousands of lives on a lie.

This is simply the pearl-clutching Republican version of class warfare. Any person who lives in a mansion who doesn't vote Republican is a "wealth traitor" and these blibbering bumblers of the punditocracy can't help but tut-tut and tsk-tsk and scream "hypocrisy."

(Which is ironic in and of itself, since hypocrisy is oxygen in the GOP political biosphere.)

2007-02-23T22:56:00.000-06:00

Continuing the pay-it-forward meme scheme developed by Leonard Pierce, here's my capsule interview with Hayden Childs...

1. What's your favorite show you've seen at the Ryman?

Oooh, you are already establishing yourself as a tough interviewer. I would have to say the 2004 show featuring Elvis Costello and the Imposters, where they were touring behind their release of The Delivery Man. Costello really showed up for that show, which he so often does when he's in Nashville. One of the most memorable moments was when he sang "A Good Year for the Roses" without any amplification. I was sitting in the rear of the balcony and heard every note.

Runners up would include Wilco in 2003, Steve Earle & the Original Dukes 25th Anniversary of Guitar Town reunion/concert, Merle Haggard in 2002, and the Johnny Cash public memorial.

(There's a quick top five instead of one. I love many of the shows there for many reasons.)

2. What was the point of telephone deregulation with the benefit of hindsight? Does it have a future?

Well, the point of it was to provide universal, cheap access to communications and information services. At least, that was the public face of the Telecommunications Act of 1996. There were some positives there, including the establishment of the Universal Service Fund and of e-Rate, so that schools could take advantage of the emergent Internet. That, in and of itself, would have been enough.

However, the point was not as dramatic as the outcome. The outcome, of course, was the re-consolidation of big incumbent local exchange carriers. That was helped along greatly by the robber baron philosophy of Bernie Ebbers -- and as the robber that he was, he wound up being sentenced to 25 years in prison for fraud.

Now, what we are witnessing in the industry today is the death of long distance and the emergence of IP. The two most lucrative markets left: 1) wireless, and 2) broadband access.

This is a much abbreviated history.

But in answer to the second question, the short answer is "yes." I think that regulation has a future, and its name is "net neutrality." I don't think that it has much of a future, but I must commend Commissioner Adelman and Commissioner Copps for standing up to AT&T and making sure that NN provisions were attached to the BellSouth merger as a precondition.

3. Do you have a favorite place to take photos?

I try not to limit myself, but I find myself taking most photos when on hikes. Trees, flowers, birds, sunsets, landscapes. I probably don't take as many pictures of people as I could, unless I'm at a concert.

As far as a single favorite, I'd have to say that Alaska has really captured my imagination. This year's vacation will be to Galápagos, however, so we'll see if that remains at the top of the list.

4. Mike Watt & The Pair of Pliers (Watson/Meghrouni) or Mike Watt & the Black Gang (Baiza/Lee)? Why?

Black Gang -- but the version of the Black Gang that I saw (on the "puttin' the opera to bed" tour) was Bob Lee and Nels Cline.

And now that you know that, I think the answer should be obvious. That's the show that made me a Nels Cline fanatic.

I'd still probably lean towards Baiza & Lee if that was my only choice. As long as Watt's in the mix, though, it's all good.

5. Will the Dems take Tennessee in 2008? Which Presidential candidate has the best shot and why?

Depends on what the Dems are attempting to "take" in Tennessee. The senate seat, currently held by Lamar! Alexander is going to be tough to take back. Right now, the D's have a majority in House seats (5 of 9 of TN's districts), they hold the governorship (nominally, since Bredesen is such a sellout), they continue to hold the TN House, and are within a couple of seats of taking back the Senate. Since the governor's office isn't vacated until 2010... I'd say they hold 5 seats in the House delegation unless Davis (TN-4th) runs for Lamar's seat.

Among presidential contenders in TN... hm. Let's just go with who I think will win the prez primaries, given who's in right this moment: McCain (R), Obama (D). I don't think there's much chance for Hillary to win here unless she is riding a huge wave, and even then, it'll be tough.

2007-02-19T19:52:00.000-06:00

Growing pains?

This year, I have come to be acquainted with two people who've gone to prison.

Having gone almost 40 years in my life, I don't think I've ever really even tangled with anyone who went to jail, much less prison.

(That time that my dad got busted for fireworks possession hardly counts.)

2006-09-11T22:25:00.000-05:00

Semi-Obligatory 9/11 Post

If you came here to check in, just let me say, "Hey, I'm great." Aside from having a cold, that is. I had a great time on this year's vacation in Alaska.

I learned something about myself, too.

As I was sitting on a ridge watching and photographing a sunset that would last for the next couple of hours, I thought to myself how fortunate that I was that I had a job that would allow me the freedom to enjoy moments like this every now and again.

Whoa.

Anchors like jobs don't "allow freedom." Jobs give you an opportunity to make money, which you can exchange for goods and services.

Can you say "Stockholm Syndrome?"

Freedom is what you sacrifice to take a job.

This is something I'm contemplating today, when I hear a lot of hollow talk about "the price of freedom" that we pay as citizens, or that we ask of others to pay on our behalf.

And I can't get around the idea that freedom and security are at self-devouring ends of a bitter cycle.

2006-08-16T22:41:00.000-05:00

Nineteen and ninety fucking two...

Was this really 14 years ago?

I'm sitting here watching VH1 Classic and Eddie Vedder is belting out "Evenflow."

I remember trading my copy of Material Issue's International Pop Overthrow for a copy of Ten. I still think I got the better end of the deal, all things considered... but damn, "grunge" seems so dated now.

In 1992, I was just out of college, living in Chicago, going door-to-door for Greenpeace, making subminimum wage, and I don't think I'd ever had a bite of sushi.

[edited]

And now it's Morrissey singing "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out."

Maaaaaaaaaaaaaan. I liked The Smiths so much more before I'd ever seen a single video of theirs. From 1988 until 1997, I didn't have cable, so seeing all of this stuff is all pretty much new to me.

I don't think I really missed all that much.

2006-07-14T18:46:00.000-05:00

You Tubin'

You can't go wrong with Dave Edmunds or Nick Lowe.

Lo and behold, they recognized this themselves, and took it on the road.

So, here's a vid of one oft-overlooked supergroup, Rockpile. On American Bandstand, no less.

2006-07-11T22:22:00.000-05:00

Corrupting Youthful Ideals of Weirdo Music

Recently, my wife posed a challenge for me - come up with some of the music which warped the sensibilities of my 16-year-old mind.

I came up with the following suggestions for a possible soundtrack:

(1) Cream Corn from the Socket of Davis EP, Butthole Surfers (1985). The song list is short: "Moving To Florida," "Comb," "To Parter," and "Tornadoes." And each one is exquisitely strange, especially the first track, with its non sequitur references to "sausages which dance like Ray Bolger on the hood of a car in a traffic jam" and "potty train the Chairman Mao."

(2) Psychocandy, Jesus & Mary Chain (1985). When the feedback kicks in, more akin to a Hoover vacuum than a Fender Twin Reverb, you know you have something different going here. This band never quite captured this sort of ambience again, and it's a shame. The last thing these guys needed was more production.

(3) Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth (1982). The album which started it all. Originally on SST, recently re-released on Universal.

(4) What Makes a Man Start Fires?, The Minutemen (1983). "Our band is scientist rock." One cannot underestimate the impact of this band, nor overlook this album, and it is decidedly not mainstream. Angular lyrics, chunking guitar noise, dynamic and fast interplay.

(5) Frankenchrist, Dead Kennedys (1985). Probably the most intriguing Dead Kennedys project, at least over time. It's a departure from the short form punk style of hardcore (see In God We Trust, Inc.) and brings in much more instrumental focus. Jello Biafra is all over the map on this one, lyrically, but once you actually sit down and decipher what's being said, you'll find a lot there that still applies today. I went and picked this up just for "Hellnation" after the 2004 election.

(6) Like Flies on Sherbert, Alex Chilton (1980). Not what you'd expect to follow from Big Star. This takes various stylings in Memphis R&B, soul, blues, and disco -- and shakes them all up in a bag, scatters them on the floor, and the result? Well, it is what it is. A self-conscious turn towards self-alienation in the career of a complex character.

(7) Damaged, Black Flag (1981). Returning again to West Coast punk (and yet another entry from SST Records), this marks the debut of Henry Rollins behind the mic. With Greg Ginn's signature guitar backed by Chuck Dukowski's boundless energy on bass, this is a centerpiece of not just punk, but rock music.

(8) Zen Arcade, Husker Du (1984). Aw hell, let's just continue the SST kick. Reportedly recorded in one take, this double album is a masterpiece of midwestern psychedelia-cum-punk.

I guess the only things missing here might be Meat Puppets II and Bad Brains' I Against I. OK, and Saccharine Trust. Sheesh! What a bogart!

2006-06-18T22:55:00.000-05:00

YouTube Find:

Hell yeah. Booker T & the MG's in 1967:

2006-06-13T22:46:00.000-05:00

In its third year or so of existence, The Hight Hat Magazine has put out six outstanding (if irregularly released) editions.

The magazine covers film, music, comics, celebrities, art... and nearly any sort of marginalia with a sterling combination of scholarship and fanatic geekdom. The Sam Peckinpah edition (HH #2) is a particularly good primer to the work of this legendary director. And this may well be one of the finest comic deconstructions of the rock crit persona ever written. The writers come from many walks of life, but are united in their deep appreciation of art, culture, as well as other fulfilling human endeavors.

The sixth edition of this webzine came out just a few weeks ago.

If you have yet to be exposed, I'm not particularly surprised. But check it out. You will most probably find something worthwhile therein.

2006-06-13T18:46:00.000-05:00

A Word on the Creative Process

I don't know if anyone out there reading this spends considerable time and capital to create stuff. And by "create stuff," I don't mean cobbling together some ideas that someone else came up with and posting it on a weblog with some snarky commentary attached.

I mean someone who paints. Or who creates art of of scrapyard metal. Or writes original prose or poetry. Or plays and records music. Or someone who takes pictures.

I make no complaint of the investment I've made, or of the return I've made thereto, either (the former is substantial while the latter, well, not so much) -- I do photography because I enjoy it. While I don't want to get overly precious about it, I share my work because I enjoy communicating what it is that I see in the universe. My pictures are my artistic voice. As such, I like being properly credited for what I've captured, and I am an unapologetic control freak about how my own work lives out in the world once I let someone in on what I see in the viewfinder. This craft is not merely a hobby for me.

To give some meager idea of what this journey has been for me, personally, in the last few years... I invested in a high performance computer platform which would help me render my art in Photoshop, and I have upgraded in that span. I have invested in three camera bodies in under two years time, I've bought lenses and tripods and digital memory and glass filters and Photoshop plugins and tripod heads and color calibrators and USB tablets and scanners and printers and ink, I've spent money on classes and magazine subscriptions, I've invested in my own website, I've spent money to take trips just so I could get up at 5 in the morning to catch the golden rays of the sunrise, and countless other hours have gone into shooting and post-processing.

And all of that before I even made a dime from my work.

Honestly, though, I couldn't care less about the money. What I care about is how my voice is represented.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter if you take your pictures with a pinhole camera or a Canon Snappy or a Minolta X700 or a Holga or a 2.0 megapixel Kodak or a Hasselblad with a Leaf Digital back or a Linhof 4x5 direct view camera. You, the artist, own the vision which went into creating that image, you own the time which went into creating that image, you own the discipline which was involved in developing that vision and skill, and thanks to international standards of copyright, you also own the right to display that work as you please, to control the context in which that work appears, and you own the right to say "no" if someone insists on appropriating your original works. It also doesn't matter if the photograph in question is a piece of crap or a candid party pic. You don't cede your right to control your copyright once you reveal your work to the public, and nothing says you have to play nice if someone doesn't respond to a completely reasonable request to stop infringing your creative rights.

What constitutes sufficient grounds to say, "You can't use my picture," you might ask? Just because I say so. There need be no other reason. Even if I put a picture out there on the Internet for all in the world to see, my exclusive rights are not ceded until I say they are.

Am I guilty of running afoul of others' rights in my own lifetime? Yes. I'd be a liar if I said I'd never taken illegal dubs of songs or committed other acts of "unfair use." However, I am sensitive enough to respect the wishes of others when it comes to their original works, and beyond that, I'm smart enough to know when to stand down.

Now that I'm trying to get established, it's becoming a really tough call. The minute you start to share is the minute you open up the possibility of getting ripped off or misrepresented. I learned that one the hard way when I trusted a local journalist to use some photos I'd taken as collateral for his column -- and while they indeed appeared under his byline, there was no compensation and there was no credit given, despite assurances to the contrary. And this was, I thought, someone who would appreciate what it means to create something.

Once burned, twice shy. It's just easier not to share at a certain point.

Isn't that why copyright exists in the first place? It gives the creator of original works some discretion as to how their ideas are contextualized and represented, at least for a time.

I typically choose to allow casual, non-commercial uses of my work, so long as attribution is carried and no derivative works are made of my photos. I'm seriously beginning to reconsider my definition of "appropriate." I can scarcely afford to feed my avocation, much less pay lawyers to defend my right to render exclusive jurisdiction over my stuff once I choose to share it.

It's a tough call. I'm all about "sharing," but I'm really not jazzed about the idea of someone using something I brought into the world in a context I don't feel right about.

2006-06-08T21:55:00.000-05:00

This Just In From the "Colossal Waste of Time" Division

Tumblebugs. I don't know what it is about these "connect three" type games which is so addictive, but there it is.

My only beef is that the soundtrack isn't varied.

2006-06-07T21:58:00.000-05:00

A Word to the Minority in the Senate FMA Vote

In the words of Justice Scalia,

"Vaffanculo!"

2006-06-05T21:36:00.000-05:00

Echoing Tom Tomorrow

Re: Haditha.

Either you're completely appalled by the slaughter of children, or there's something seriously wrong with you.

End of story.

2006-06-02T19:11:00.000-05:00

KEEP WATCHING THIS SPACE.

In the event anyone's out there, that is.

Just FYI, I got pretty frustrated with trying to customize my blog skin, and there's some unrecoverable booger in the system which is preventing my archives from auto-generating.

I'm going to be switching to WordPress at another location and starting a photoblog. As for this blog, well, it may be about time to burn down and start over. Or something.

Just keep an eye out, if anyone still does.

2006-01-04T21:05:00.000-06:00

In memory of the Sago 12:

In the town of Springhill Nova Scotia
Late in the year
The day still comes and the sun still shines
But it's dark at the graves of the Cumberland miners

Listen to the shouts of the black-faced miner
Listen to the call of the rescue team
We have no water, light or bread
So we're living on songs and hope instead

In the town of Springhill Nova Scotia
Down in the dark of the Cumberland mine
There's blood on the coal, and the miners lie
In roads that never saw sun or sky

In the town of Springhill Nova Scotia
Often the earth will tremble and roll
When the earth is restless
Miners die

Bone and blood is the price of coal

U2, "Springhill Mining Disaster"

2005-12-18T11:41:00.000-06:00

[tap][tap] Is the NSA in the House? Good. Now listen up...

It should now be obvious to anyone paying attention that our President has promised to continue to violate his oath of office.

"I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

I refer, of course, to the 4th Amendment thereto, which stipulates that there are limits to the power of the state, and it makes no exceptions for time of (undeclared) war.

The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.

Congress should move immediately to require that this President cease and desist these questionable activities forthwith, or to bring them in compliance with the federal standards set forth in FISA. Given, also, the seriousness of the charges being assessed, Congressional oversight is now mandatory.

If the White House fails to comply, an article of impeachment should be drawn up and executed, and should include both the President and the Vice President as particulars.

I suppose that if this opinion makes me an enemy of "the state," then so be it.

If this state continues to support a renegade executive, and continues to support invasions of personal privacy in matters of life and death, and continues to wage a war based on admittedly faulty intelligence, then this state deserves to fall.

If the NSA is listening, I'm confident that they can establish my "true identity." My number is in the book.

(And given that my wife & I use the phone to coordinate grocery runs, for the most part, wotta riot that would be for you all.)

cc: Senator Bill Frist, Senator Lamar Alexander, Rep. Marsha Blackburn

2005-12-13T20:03:00.000-06:00

Some good discussion today, with various online compatriots.

I'd like to refine what I said earlier, based on some of that discussion.

1) Tookie Williams is not an ideal case to discuss on the basis of redemption. To me, the question of redemption is irrelevant.

It is ineffective to argue that someone redeemed deserves life, for that implies that anyone unredeemed deserves death. Also, when you're talking about "redemption," you're really crossing over the line from the secular to the spiritual, and I don't believe that this Republic was constructed to support that. There is, however, rehabilitation. And there is reparation. Those things make more sense, especially when we are discussing universal human rights, irrespective of religious background.

2) I must conclude that the only viable option for our country to pursue, today, is to abolish the death penalty. Immediately.

Anything like a moratorium, or tinkering with the mechanisms, or fiddling with exceptions, and deciding who deserves what and when -- that's all just rationalizing a practice which is inherently flawed, as human perception is inherently flawed itself. I can no more assume that the government can decide rightly whether I live or die than I can assume that they will correctly settle my next income tax statement.

While I'm on that topic, what's up with mainstream, anti-big government, capital-R republican support for the death penalty? Here, you have the party which proclaims that big government can fuck up a two car parade, yet you can count on them to invest 100% fealty to a system which determines who lives and who dies. Maybe I didn't get the memo, but last time I checked, the courts were something that they didn't trust at all. Why suddenly do they get it right when it comes to disposing of criminals?

3) It was Damien Echols birthday on 12/11. This year marks his 11th in custody since his wrongful conviction (and death sentence) in 1994.

Here's hoping Arkansas can get it right...