Point of disclosure: I'm a bibliophile. I read books; I collect books; I love reading a good book.
I like reading while seated in a comfortable chair or on the couch or curled in bed. I like reading while seated on a bus or a train. I like reading while listening — in other words, hearing and absorbing an audiobook. I like reading because, in the case of fiction, it takes me away from current events, and, in the case of nonfiction, it keeps me abreast of current events or reminds me of past events or warns me of possible future events.
What I'm trying to say is that, no matter what the contents, a book is a means of entertainment, of some variety, a way to absorb the thoughts of another person on all manner of subjects, topics, ideas, and/or flights of fancy. It is satisfying, as well, to debate the merits of what I've read, with people who have read the same thing or who have read reviews of the same thing. Fancy a good argument? Savage the one book "everyone loves." Also, you never know how much your recommendation is going to affect someone's decision on what to read next.
Much like a magazine, a book is indeed something that you hold in your hands. However, for me, the thing that you hold in your hands doesn't have to contain pieces of paper.
The connection between writer and reader is made manifest in the transmission of the ideas and emotions, not necessarily in the tactile experience of hardbound or paperbound book; thus, I have no objection to the iPad, the Kindle, or any other kind of e-reader. We've gone from handwritten to typewritten to typeset to computer-printed to screen-only in a relatively short period of time (as cosmic timelines go), without shearing the planet off its axis. Books will always be with us, as will the ideas and stories that fill them — no matter what form the "book" comes in. It's not so much the medium that's important but rather, for me, the method in which those ideas and stories are shared.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Like your two-party system? Has California got a proposition for you
Just a few days from now, voters in California will have the power to alter their political landscape radically – in the direction of both the Democrats and Republicans.
The election on June 8 will determine whether Proposition 14 becomes the law of the state. This particular proposition would change the way that state elections work in California. Rather than the traditionally recognizable primary election-then-general election scheme that usually results in the top two vote-getters being the Democratic candidate and the Republican candidate, this proposition would introduce two rounds of voting that would, in the end, result in the top two vote-getters being the Democratic candidate and the Republican candidate. That's assuming that minor parties don't get an infusion on the order of billions of dollars from private donors anytime soon.
See, that first round of elections would be nothing more than a means to produce the roster for the runoff election to follow. Then, in the second round of voting, the two candidates who got the most candidates in the first round of elections would go head-to-head. That's right: the ballot would contain just two names – not the potentially dozens that are now available under current election laws.
Current donation patterns favor the Democratic Party and the Republican Party astronomically more than other political parties, so it's not outside the realm of possibility that those two parties' candidates would be the ones on the ballot for the second and final election round. Now, the possibility of a candidate with lots of pocket money being in the final election round is very high, given current electoral patterns. However, for every Michael Bloomberg (successful candidate for Mayor of New York) there is a Steve Forbes (unsuccessful candidate for President – twice). Which category will Meg Whitman join? The voters of California will decide that as well for the former eBay CEO.
There's also the possibility that only one political party will be represented, since the requirement is only that the top two vote-getters in the first round advance to the final round. Both finalists could belong to the same political party, since the one-candidate-per-party requirement wouldn't be in the law anymore. Still, not sure how the Natural Law Party could ever advance a candidate to the final election round by being first or second vote-getters, whereas the party, under current law, is guaranteed of getting a candidate on the final ballot.
Even though this measure would seem to favor the Democratic Party and the Republican Party, both parties have come out firmly against Proposition 14, most likely because they don't like the last possibility, that of two candidates representing the same political party facing off in the final election, freezing out the opposing political party altogether. And that's the possibility that frightens the Democrats and Republicans in California. That's the reason that they have announced their opposition to Proposition 14 – along with other, smaller political parties.
We've been here before. Anyone remember 1996? The U.S. Supreme Court invalidated that law. But just two years ago, a measure strikingly similar to that one was upheld by the same High Court.
Who knows? Maybe the top-two system will work. Shouldn't we wait and see? We have been here, though. That's how Aaron Burr got to be Vice-president.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Buy the Amityville house? Get out of town!
A little fear is a good thing, I think. I'm a little bit afraid of how my wife might react if I came home from work one night and announced that I was buying the Amityville Horror house. It's for sale – again.
Yes, the house made famous by the book and movie can be had for the not-too-shabby price of $1.15 million. I'm afraid that's a lot of money to pay for what would surely be a short stay. I certainly wouldn't stay around once I'd seen the giant pig.
See, I've read the book. I know the "based on a true story" was a myth, according to the author. I know the movie was a dramatization of the book, which was fiction. But I also know that I'm afraid that the house looks alive. I mean, look at the photo. Don't those windows look like demonic eyes to you? That's what I see.
The poor Lutz family. They sure did suffer through some nightmarish events. I'm afraid I wouldn't blame them for eventually moving out, given the sordid history of the house. Seems six members of a family were shot and killed in the house not long before the Lutz family moved in. You'd think they would have known. Isn't that what disclosure documents are for?
Anyway, the house is for sale. It isn't the original address. No, this house is at 108 Ocean Ave. For those keeping score at home, though, that 112 Ocean Ave. mentioned in the movie and book is still there. The house just has a different number now. Apparently, the idea is to keep thrill-seekers from finding the original house by locating its address. But come on, those eyes! But I'm afraid you can't fool crafty spirit-seekers, anymore than you can fool giant pigs and demonic residents of Dutch colonial houses.
I'm put in mind of the Eddie Murphy routine from his Delirious album and tour:
"I would 've been in the house saying:
'Oh baby this is beautiful. We got a chandelier hanging up here, kids
outside playing. Its a beautiful neighbourhood.
'We ain't got nothing to worry.
I really love it. This is really nice.'
"GET OUT!"
"Too bad we can't stay, baby!"
Now Eddie had some sense. One look at those demonic eyes in the shape of windows and he'd be out of there.
Not that I have $1.15 million lying around; but if I did, I wouldn't be the next resident of 112 (or 108) Ocean Ave. Too many flies on the inside.
Yes, the house made famous by the book and movie can be had for the not-too-shabby price of $1.15 million. I'm afraid that's a lot of money to pay for what would surely be a short stay. I certainly wouldn't stay around once I'd seen the giant pig.
See, I've read the book. I know the "based on a true story" was a myth, according to the author. I know the movie was a dramatization of the book, which was fiction. But I also know that I'm afraid that the house looks alive. I mean, look at the photo. Don't those windows look like demonic eyes to you? That's what I see.
The poor Lutz family. They sure did suffer through some nightmarish events. I'm afraid I wouldn't blame them for eventually moving out, given the sordid history of the house. Seems six members of a family were shot and killed in the house not long before the Lutz family moved in. You'd think they would have known. Isn't that what disclosure documents are for?
Anyway, the house is for sale. It isn't the original address. No, this house is at 108 Ocean Ave. For those keeping score at home, though, that 112 Ocean Ave. mentioned in the movie and book is still there. The house just has a different number now. Apparently, the idea is to keep thrill-seekers from finding the original house by locating its address. But come on, those eyes! But I'm afraid you can't fool crafty spirit-seekers, anymore than you can fool giant pigs and demonic residents of Dutch colonial houses.
I'm put in mind of the Eddie Murphy routine from his Delirious album and tour:
"I would 've been in the house saying:
'Oh baby this is beautiful. We got a chandelier hanging up here, kids
outside playing. Its a beautiful neighbourhood.
'We ain't got nothing to worry.
I really love it. This is really nice.'
"GET OUT!"
"Too bad we can't stay, baby!"
Now Eddie had some sense. One look at those demonic eyes in the shape of windows and he'd be out of there.
Not that I have $1.15 million lying around; but if I did, I wouldn't be the next resident of 112 (or 108) Ocean Ave. Too many flies on the inside.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Haughty Cuisine: a 26-Page Brownie Recipe
You can look it up. The recipe for making brownies in a Pentagon document runs to 26 pages. Now that's a lot of eggs and chocolate.
Really, how hard can it be to make brownies? If you canvassed the various popular cookbooks and compared the most basic sets of ingredients, you'd find that one trip to the grocery store should cover everything you need to make a decent batch of brownies. Aiming higher, for more of a delicacy, could require more money spent, but you'd still not run more than a full page in a cookbook.
Yet here is the U.S. Department of Defense, preparing food that will outlast outrageous pressures like a nuclear attack or a plague of locusts of cockroaches (both of which would probably survive the aforementioned nuclear attack), and they get past the normal Meals Ready-to-Eat requirements of meat, potatoes, and "a little vegetables" and find their way to the dessert table, where brownies will be on the menu, thank you very much – brownies for which the instructions cover 26 pages.
Apparently, the brownies are meant to be made to last. So, if packaged properly, they can be a beacon of light during the winter of a nuclear discontent. If left with nothing much else to eat, most people would probably find those brownies to be tasty morsels after all.
The other thing to take note of here is that, because the recipe runs to 26 pages, it contains all manner of specific instructions, all of which must be followed to the letter; otherwise, the brownies won't taste as they should. If we don't follow orders, we can't guarantee the outcome.
And, this being the U.S. Military, the brownies must be a standard set of dimensions: 3.5 inches by 2.5 inches by five-eighths of an inch. Hmmm, that's not a square, so these can't properly be called chocolate squares. And no word on whether those dimensions include any kind of extra frosting. But wait, they're basic brownies. OK, back on track.
So we have the dimensions and we have the dissertation-length recipe. One thing we also have is confidence that the recipe can always be made, even in the event of a sustained period underground. Why? How can we possibly guarantee that? Surely we can't trust our memories? How can anyone possibly memorize all 26 pages of instructions to make brownies? Surely it's better to concentrate on trying to digest the 100+ pages that are surely to be in the recipe for beef stew.
Well, not to worry. We won't need to use our memories for recalling the proper dimensions of the brownies or the proper number of times to beat the eggs or anything like that? Why not? Well, if there's one thing that the U.S. Military is really good, it's redundancy. We can be sure that if the brownie recipe is deemed important enough to be on the Must-Have list, then we won't have access to just one copy. Further, we can virtually guarantee that each and every copy will be exactly the same.
P.S.: The Government thanks us in advance: We're paying, right now, the printing costs for the bunker-binder copies of the brownie recipe and other staples of the Post-attack Cookbook.
P.P.S.: For instructions on how to ensure that you're around to eat these brownies, click here.
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Newspaper Is Your Friend: Don't Kill It!
OK, so some information up-front: I'm an old-school newspaperman, from way back. When I was in 6th grade, I decided that I wanted to be a newspaperman. I grew up watching movies in which the newspaper saved the day. I went all through postsecondary school training to be a newspaperman. I graduated from college with a degree in journalism. I worked at a handful of newspapers. I say worked because I no longer work at a newspaper. Part of me wishes that I still did, but I don't. I still read the newspaper every day, though, without fail. So there you go. ...
Now, I'm here to argue about the newspaper's role as community service. See, the newspaper provides information and commentary and announcements and results, from your local community and from around the world. The newspaper informs, by giving people information that they want (or, perhaps, don't want). The newspaper gives results, by publishing sports scores and election returns. The newspaper
gives opinions (which should be clearly marked as such!), about the issues of the day. The newspaper lets people know what's happening in the world around them, from the mundane book club or city council meeting to the earth-shattering G20 meeting or literally earth-shattering earthquake or volcanic eruption in distant lands.
What the newspaper can also do is reunite a man and his bike.
This story can be told in a pair of photos, both featuring a bicycle. In the first photo, a diver who donated his time to rummage about the bottom of the Wellington (N.Z.) harbor can be seen holding up things he found on the ocean floor, including a hockey stick and a bicycle. He found all manner of other things as well, like golf balls and non-winning lottery tickets and other bits of the detritus of daily life. But he found this bicycle.
So the Wellington newspaper, the Dominion Post, runs this photo, with a story attached, telling how this good citizen gave his time to get the trash off the bottom of the harbor. It's a nice photo, really. The guy is smiling as he's showing what he's found. He's relieved that he's been able to get some of that trash out of the water and on its way to where it should be – in a landfill. It's also a feel-good story, because the reader identifies with the diver because he or she (the reader) doesn't want the harbor water to be clogged with anything like hockey sticks or bicycles.
So it's a nice photo and a nice story and it makes the reader feel nice. How nice.
But here's the real value: As it turns out, the bicycle that the diver found at the bottom of the harbor was stolen. That same bicycle that the diver is holding up for the Dominion Post photographer to shoot in order to illustrate the harbor floor-dredging story is a bicycle that was stolen while locked up along the waterfront. The owner of the bicycle, who counted on those two wheels as his only mobile form of transportation, had reported the bicycle stolen a few weeks ago and, after enough days of no news, had probably given up on getting his stolen property back.
But the bicycle owner saw the photo in the newspaper, recognized the bicycle as his own, was able to prove it was his, and now has his bicycle back. (See the second photo.)
The newspaper did this. The newspaper reunited bicycle with owner. The newspaper made it possible for a man to get back something that had been stolen from him. This wasn't a Picasso or some other thing that had been stolen and also had a really high market value; but that bicycle had a really high value to its owner, and he now has it back – thanks to the newspaper's doing its job as community service.
In this digital day and age, the newspaper comes in many forms, including electronic. (You could argue that the paper in newspaper implies a tactile thing, and you'd be correct; however, for the purposes of this discussion, we'll extend the definition of newspaper to include the online presence of a newspaper.) The bicycle owner might never have gotten his bicycle back. In fact, he might never have seen the photo in the newspaper. But he did see the photo because he did look at the newspaper, on the day the photo was in the newspaper. The odds against that coincidental series of events are staggering, but the odds turned out in the bicycle owner's favor all the same.
This is the power of the newspaper – providing all manner of information, along with the promise of imparting knowledge, awareness, and community service.
Read your newspaper, early and often. You never know what you're going to find.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Bunker Down, Y'all
Stanley Kubrick certainly found humor in the Doomsday Device, the idea that nuclear weapons cou
Image by marklarson via Flickr
ld be strung together in a rapid-fire-blast chain reaction that would create a mushroom cloud that would make the recent Icelandic ash cloud look like a mere whiff of grapeshot. I wonder if we aren't seeing the same thing with Vivos, a company based out of Del Mar, Calif., that purportedly will sell you a space in a 13,000-square-foot bunker in Barstow, that you can use in the case of a "nuclear event," or some other such disaster that will necessitate living underground or otherwise out of harm's way.Got an extra $5,000 lying around? In this economic climate, not many people do, which might be more to the point, since that chunk of change is per person. (Don't miss out on the half-price discount for kids. They're small, so they certainly take up less space and need food overall, right?) That theory holds up only so far, though, since you can take your pet in there for free.
Now, the Los Angeles Times has toured the bunker, which must mean that it (the bunker, not the LA Times) exists. Of the 132 spaces in the works, fully half are already booked. That must be music to the ears of Robert Vicino, who is in charge of Vivos. He's probably counting the cash that he needs to spruce up the place so that it can actually be lived in.
Oh, didn't he mention that it's unfurnished? Did he mention the part about the 3,000-pound door? That must be really secure. It is protected against an EMP, though. (For those of you who haven't managed to catch an episode of 24 yet – which would be hard to believe given that it's been on for eight years now – that's an electromagnetic pulse, which wipes out all electrical equipment in an area but does nothing more to humans and animals than dull their hearing and whack them with a giant sound wave – which, for most people, is enough to knock them down and out for awhile).
Don't fancy living in Barstow? Sorry, don't fancy living underground in Barstow (or would that be under Barstow)? Hold onto your money a little while longer because Vicino has plans to build other bunkers in other states. He knows of another developer already, in Kansas, who is planning to build a state-of-the-art survival condo set for $1.75 million.
Image by andy z via Flickr
If this is all sounding a little 1950s, you're onto it. This bunker that Vicino will, once he gets enough people to commit the cash, be retrofitting goes way back to the Cold War and was used an emergency communications center by none other than the U.S. Government. The land used to be owned by AT&T. No word yet on which company will be setting up the communication network in the bunker. You probably won't be able to get satellite TV, though. However, if the Doomsday Device does go off, you won't have to worry about the weather forecast for a good long while.
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