Democracy in Action
So much for parliamentary standards. It’s pretty childish for Julia Gillard to throw Tony Abbott’s words back in his face, but for the Speaker of the House to act from his partisan preferences and bar her is despicable. David Hawker should be censured himself and forced to step down. John Howard doesn’t even need to whistle to get this guard dog to bark.
31 May 2006
Shut Up
When is speech not free? When it’s critical of your employer, especially if you’re working for the government. Now, anyway. The dispute under examination doesn’t sound like free speech, to be fair; it sounds like a contentious dispute between an employee and his supervisors that got him a black mark on his permanent record. The “legitimate staffing needs” of the L.A. D.A. probably address what used to be called “personality conflicts,” and Mr. Ceballos is probably lucky he got to keep his job at all. Nevertheless, concerns over the chilling effect this decision may have on whistleblowers and others, even outside government service, in speaking against bad decisions or practices seems warranted. While the specifics of Mr. Ceballos’ behavior in objecting to a search warrant’s legitimacy are not provided, that he did so should be commended. A truly democratic system of government requires its operations to be transparent, above-board at all times, and, to argue for the dissent, no employee working in the government, or elsewhere for that matter, surrenders his rights or duties as a citizen in protecting the public interest in this respect. Mr. Ceballos’ objections must be protected speech or we hand our [elected] leaders more power than they are entitled to, and we know about power. But then look at which Justices were in the majority.
When is speech not free? When it’s critical of your employer, especially if you’re working for the government. Now, anyway. The dispute under examination doesn’t sound like free speech, to be fair; it sounds like a contentious dispute between an employee and his supervisors that got him a black mark on his permanent record. The “legitimate staffing needs” of the L.A. D.A. probably address what used to be called “personality conflicts,” and Mr. Ceballos is probably lucky he got to keep his job at all. Nevertheless, concerns over the chilling effect this decision may have on whistleblowers and others, even outside government service, in speaking against bad decisions or practices seems warranted. While the specifics of Mr. Ceballos’ behavior in objecting to a search warrant’s legitimacy are not provided, that he did so should be commended. A truly democratic system of government requires its operations to be transparent, above-board at all times, and, to argue for the dissent, no employee working in the government, or elsewhere for that matter, surrenders his rights or duties as a citizen in protecting the public interest in this respect. Mr. Ceballos’ objections must be protected speech or we hand our [elected] leaders more power than they are entitled to, and we know about power. But then look at which Justices were in the majority.
26 May 2006
Broadway’s Magical Thinking
I just finished Joan Didion’s memoir, The Year of Magical Thinking (which was terrific, by the way, really, really good), but it never really struck me that it would make a good Broadway Play, even with Vanessa Redgrave. I suppose I’m wrong about this, given the calibre of the writers involved and the actress to deliver it, so I won’t offer any prognostication. The book, however, I’ll go ahead and recommend now.
I just finished Joan Didion’s memoir, The Year of Magical Thinking (which was terrific, by the way, really, really good), but it never really struck me that it would make a good Broadway Play, even with Vanessa Redgrave. I suppose I’m wrong about this, given the calibre of the writers involved and the actress to deliver it, so I won’t offer any prognostication. The book, however, I’ll go ahead and recommend now.
Justice
While they’re in prison, maybe a couple of exercise bikes could be hooked up to the grid so they can pedal up some wattage.
While they’re in prison, maybe a couple of exercise bikes could be hooked up to the grid so they can pedal up some wattage.
Intervention
Sending the troops into East Timor to assist the government in restoring peace is a worthy action. The history of independence there has been fraught and deserves assistance. The action of the Timorese government in firing striking soldiers highlights societal problems there that must be resolved and precipitated the present events, but that won’t turn out well in a civil war, so Mr. Howard’s actions are worthy of Australia’s position in the region.
Sending the troops into East Timor to assist the government in restoring peace is a worthy action. The history of independence there has been fraught and deserves assistance. The action of the Timorese government in firing striking soldiers highlights societal problems there that must be resolved and precipitated the present events, but that won’t turn out well in a civil war, so Mr. Howard’s actions are worthy of Australia’s position in the region.
25 May 2006
Avoiding the Next Iran-Contra Scandal
One of the principals from the last scandal now has the authority to exempt any company he likes from SEC disclosure regulations. This is Presidential-level authority, delegated for the first time, and to the author of arms-for-hostages and other Cold War era misdeeds. Who goes first? Haliburton?
(Note: the authorization was signed into effect the same day Porter Goss resigned as the head of the CIA. While the two events themselves are unconnected, the timing on Bush's part is an obvious attempt to take advantage of a bigger news event.)
One of the principals from the last scandal now has the authority to exempt any company he likes from SEC disclosure regulations. This is Presidential-level authority, delegated for the first time, and to the author of arms-for-hostages and other Cold War era misdeeds. Who goes first? Haliburton?
(Note: the authorization was signed into effect the same day Porter Goss resigned as the head of the CIA. While the two events themselves are unconnected, the timing on Bush's part is an obvious attempt to take advantage of a bigger news event.)
23 May 2006
21 May 2006
What Else Are You Going to Do with It?
Australia has lots of uranium, so much that we're going to start exporting it to China soon, and others, maybe, later, especially now that George Bush has welcomed Pakistan into the nuclear club (but not India, go figure), at least unofficially. However, there is no nuclear energy industry here as yet, although there are those who seek to change that. A national debate over building nuclear generators? Fine, but the answers seem pretty well established already. Although we certainly need to reduce our greenhouse gas emissions, since we're not signatories to Kyoto, framing the debate on environmental principles is to base it on false pretenses. Our PM, John Howard, has said he believes the decision should be economically based, but that also seems to ring hollow. While other countries have nuclear power plants, none run at full capacity, none provide a substantial measure of overall electric power, none have been constructed or now operate without considerable government subsidy, essentially forcing the population to pay two energy bills: one from their power suppier and one to the government, who just hand it over to the power supplier. In addition, there's the issue of waste, and we're not just talking about spent fuel rods - a source of material that can be reprocessed into weapons-grade plutonium or otherwise used for destructive purposes - but also everything that goes into handling the stuff. Once your protective suit is sufficiently irradiated itself, or that pair of wire cutters, or that hammer, it's radioactive waste, and it will stay that way for decades, centuries perhaps, slowly breaking down. So it needs to be stored, and safely, not just from those who would reuse it illegitimately, but also from interacting with the environment, leeching isotopes into the water table passively, for example.
So it doesn't help move toward clean energy production, because it can't effectively replace the fossil fuels; costs far, far more; and presents a potential for harm to the environment equal to or greater than what it's supposed to replace. What's the debate?
Australia has lots of uranium, so much that we're going to start exporting it to China soon, and others, maybe, later, especially now that George Bush has welcomed Pakistan into the nuclear club (but not India, go figure), at least unofficially. However, there is no nuclear energy industry here as yet, although there are those who seek to change that. A national debate over building nuclear generators? Fine, but the answers seem pretty well established already. Although we certainly need to reduce our greenhouse gas emissions, since we're not signatories to Kyoto, framing the debate on environmental principles is to base it on false pretenses. Our PM, John Howard, has said he believes the decision should be economically based, but that also seems to ring hollow. While other countries have nuclear power plants, none run at full capacity, none provide a substantial measure of overall electric power, none have been constructed or now operate without considerable government subsidy, essentially forcing the population to pay two energy bills: one from their power suppier and one to the government, who just hand it over to the power supplier. In addition, there's the issue of waste, and we're not just talking about spent fuel rods - a source of material that can be reprocessed into weapons-grade plutonium or otherwise used for destructive purposes - but also everything that goes into handling the stuff. Once your protective suit is sufficiently irradiated itself, or that pair of wire cutters, or that hammer, it's radioactive waste, and it will stay that way for decades, centuries perhaps, slowly breaking down. So it needs to be stored, and safely, not just from those who would reuse it illegitimately, but also from interacting with the environment, leeching isotopes into the water table passively, for example.
So it doesn't help move toward clean energy production, because it can't effectively replace the fossil fuels; costs far, far more; and presents a potential for harm to the environment equal to or greater than what it's supposed to replace. What's the debate?
19 May 2006
Advancing
Today I affirm my commitment as a citizen to Australia (yes, remaining “bipolar” [who’s Hugh Morgan when he’s at home?] – a dual citizen of the U.S.), but I don’t know that I’ll ever learn the words to Advance Australia Fair, even if just the “official” words, i.e., the first and third verses, as noted on the PM’s website, let alone the bits about “gallant Cook” and “From England, Scotia, Erin’s Isle / Who come our lot to share” (leaves out the “wogs,” doesn’t it? - and, look, that’s a term of endearment here, more than one of opprobrium, so calm down [I mean, don't come the raw prawn]; it’s sort of like how you call people you’re angry with or don’t like “Mate” – with a sarcastic edge – and your mates “bastards”), and especially “Still keep a British soul.” I mean, after all, I am from a country that successfully put itself forward as a republic, unlike others of “Brittania’s sons,” one that rid itself of a monarchy and has long prided itself on its immigrant culture (even when it’s often failed to practice well what it’s preached). And you know, for a song written slightly more than 22 years before Australia become a Commonwealth, it’s probably not entirely appropriate as the national anthem, which may be why everybody sings Waltzing Matilda instead at the footy. That and it’s a better song, generally, even if it is about a sheep rustler who commits suicide instead of being taken to jail. But it’s a terrific country, one I am proud to participate in fully. I’ll get a passport (so I can indulge my Bourne Identity fantasies), and I should get some Golden Wattle to plant out on the balcony, too.
The pages referenced above also provide links to audio files, in case you want to commemorate the event yourselves or are otherwise interested in the song. (“Girt.” Who says “girt” anymore? Being an island is such an accomplishment? I need to talk to Fred Rieben - hey, look, he’s a naturalized American-Australian, too.)
(Funny how our subscription to the New Yorker should run out just as I’m becoming officially entrenched in my new society. Should I feel rejected? Well, we still [now] get the Atlantic.)
Today I affirm my commitment as a citizen to Australia (yes, remaining “bipolar” [who’s Hugh Morgan when he’s at home?] – a dual citizen of the U.S.), but I don’t know that I’ll ever learn the words to Advance Australia Fair, even if just the “official” words, i.e., the first and third verses, as noted on the PM’s website, let alone the bits about “gallant Cook” and “From England, Scotia, Erin’s Isle / Who come our lot to share” (leaves out the “wogs,” doesn’t it? - and, look, that’s a term of endearment here, more than one of opprobrium, so calm down [I mean, don't come the raw prawn]; it’s sort of like how you call people you’re angry with or don’t like “Mate” – with a sarcastic edge – and your mates “bastards”), and especially “Still keep a British soul.” I mean, after all, I am from a country that successfully put itself forward as a republic, unlike others of “Brittania’s sons,” one that rid itself of a monarchy and has long prided itself on its immigrant culture (even when it’s often failed to practice well what it’s preached). And you know, for a song written slightly more than 22 years before Australia become a Commonwealth, it’s probably not entirely appropriate as the national anthem, which may be why everybody sings Waltzing Matilda instead at the footy. That and it’s a better song, generally, even if it is about a sheep rustler who commits suicide instead of being taken to jail. But it’s a terrific country, one I am proud to participate in fully. I’ll get a passport (so I can indulge my Bourne Identity fantasies), and I should get some Golden Wattle to plant out on the balcony, too.
The pages referenced above also provide links to audio files, in case you want to commemorate the event yourselves or are otherwise interested in the song. (“Girt.” Who says “girt” anymore? Being an island is such an accomplishment? I need to talk to Fred Rieben - hey, look, he’s a naturalized American-Australian, too.)
(Funny how our subscription to the New Yorker should run out just as I’m becoming officially entrenched in my new society. Should I feel rejected? Well, we still [now] get the Atlantic.)
16 May 2006
643 of 1058
I found my bib number from the Australia Day fun run in Moore Park and, nearly 4 months after the fact, finally picked up my results for the 8km: 43:42, which I’m not entirely dissatisfied with, since it’s still under 5:30 per and I’d let the holidays totally decimate my training regimen. Now that I’m immersed in my plans for the City-to-Surf in August, finding out I placed in the 60th percentile in January provides motivation towards keeping up my kilometerage.
I found my bib number from the Australia Day fun run in Moore Park and, nearly 4 months after the fact, finally picked up my results for the 8km: 43:42, which I’m not entirely dissatisfied with, since it’s still under 5:30 per and I’d let the holidays totally decimate my training regimen. Now that I’m immersed in my plans for the City-to-Surf in August, finding out I placed in the 60th percentile in January provides motivation towards keeping up my kilometerage.
Keep Your Friends Close
We’re not friends with Venezuela any more, but Libya, on the other hand, are buds. Why does the Bush Administration’s policy on Hugo Chavez – and it is exactly that: a policy of personal animosity – remind me so much of those old Cold War “spheres of influence” arguments, such as were previously used to install General Pinochet in Chile, for example? I’m all in favor of granting Colonel Muammar el-Qadaffi better status in the world now that he’s renounced his pursuit of weapons of mass destruction and his support for terrorism, but he’s still an evil dictator. Does his turnabout make him so different from Chavez, who now appears to be headed towards creating a dictatorship for himself, or is this just a question of who’s our dictator and who’s a rogue (or otherwise aligned: he may be a bastard, but he’s our bastard)? I seem to remember some other Middle Eastern dictator coming to grief recently after having enjoyed decades as the golden boy of the U.S. The days of real politik never ended, did they? It all just changed hands, from the old imperialists of Europe to the new hegemony of D.C. alone. I’ve criticized Bush for his Cabinet picks before: they’re all the failed Cold Warriors of previous administrations or of academia, so the rhetoric they and they’re supporters (and their ostensible boss, Bush himself) continue to spout over the changed world we now live in falls flat, flatter every day, in fact. We could have engaged Chavez and Qadaffi positively and achieved good relations and a better outcome for all. Instead, we’re playing the old games and making the same mistakes. No wonder George is Mr. 29%.
We’re not friends with Venezuela any more, but Libya, on the other hand, are buds. Why does the Bush Administration’s policy on Hugo Chavez – and it is exactly that: a policy of personal animosity – remind me so much of those old Cold War “spheres of influence” arguments, such as were previously used to install General Pinochet in Chile, for example? I’m all in favor of granting Colonel Muammar el-Qadaffi better status in the world now that he’s renounced his pursuit of weapons of mass destruction and his support for terrorism, but he’s still an evil dictator. Does his turnabout make him so different from Chavez, who now appears to be headed towards creating a dictatorship for himself, or is this just a question of who’s our dictator and who’s a rogue (or otherwise aligned: he may be a bastard, but he’s our bastard)? I seem to remember some other Middle Eastern dictator coming to grief recently after having enjoyed decades as the golden boy of the U.S. The days of real politik never ended, did they? It all just changed hands, from the old imperialists of Europe to the new hegemony of D.C. alone. I’ve criticized Bush for his Cabinet picks before: they’re all the failed Cold Warriors of previous administrations or of academia, so the rhetoric they and they’re supporters (and their ostensible boss, Bush himself) continue to spout over the changed world we now live in falls flat, flatter every day, in fact. We could have engaged Chavez and Qadaffi positively and achieved good relations and a better outcome for all. Instead, we’re playing the old games and making the same mistakes. No wonder George is Mr. 29%.
15 May 2006
Invaders
This week I join the invaders of Australia as a naturalised citizen – just in time for National Reconciliation Week, 27 May to 3 June, commemorating the 1967 referendum eliminating constitutional clauses discriminating against indigenous Australians. The June 3 National Sorry Day culmination marks the anniversary of the High Court’s controversial Mabo decision, recognizing Native Title rights and overturning the myth of “Terra Nullis.”
It’s a pretty common practice here to begin events held on public lands with a statement to the effect of “I recognize the traditional caretakers of the land we stand upon today, the (tribe name) people.” This isn’t something I’ve encountered elsewhere, but I rather like it. It isn’t always necessary or the practice to specify which native people were the original inhabitants, due largely to the fact that there were so very many tribes all that time ago, and it can be difficult to be sure which held what region. Nevertheless, it’s a fine practice, and I wonder whether it will be indulged at my swearing-in.
Reconciliation was something that seemed inevitable, prior to 1996 and the elevation of John Howard as Prime Minister. This is a man for whom “sorry” is a seemingly a dirty word. While I understand the legal principles upon which he may base his refusal to offer an apology, they don’t appear to be the principles he actually uses in support, weasling around over issues of who did what to whom when. The PM prefers forgetting the past, a practice he and his frontbenchers employ whenever it suits them.
Citizenship will provide me a few rights I’m looking forward to, as well as responsibilities, all of which I take seriously. As an Australian citizen-to-be, I believe in Reconciliation, the inevitability of a Republic, and a future where government serves all its people equally. This is gonna be fun.
This week I join the invaders of Australia as a naturalised citizen – just in time for National Reconciliation Week, 27 May to 3 June, commemorating the 1967 referendum eliminating constitutional clauses discriminating against indigenous Australians. The June 3 National Sorry Day culmination marks the anniversary of the High Court’s controversial Mabo decision, recognizing Native Title rights and overturning the myth of “Terra Nullis.”
It’s a pretty common practice here to begin events held on public lands with a statement to the effect of “I recognize the traditional caretakers of the land we stand upon today, the (tribe name) people.” This isn’t something I’ve encountered elsewhere, but I rather like it. It isn’t always necessary or the practice to specify which native people were the original inhabitants, due largely to the fact that there were so very many tribes all that time ago, and it can be difficult to be sure which held what region. Nevertheless, it’s a fine practice, and I wonder whether it will be indulged at my swearing-in.
Reconciliation was something that seemed inevitable, prior to 1996 and the elevation of John Howard as Prime Minister. This is a man for whom “sorry” is a seemingly a dirty word. While I understand the legal principles upon which he may base his refusal to offer an apology, they don’t appear to be the principles he actually uses in support, weasling around over issues of who did what to whom when. The PM prefers forgetting the past, a practice he and his frontbenchers employ whenever it suits them.
Citizenship will provide me a few rights I’m looking forward to, as well as responsibilities, all of which I take seriously. As an Australian citizen-to-be, I believe in Reconciliation, the inevitability of a Republic, and a future where government serves all its people equally. This is gonna be fun.
11 May 2006
Honesty in Government
Finally, a politician willing to come out and say that the data collected for the government “Smart Card” ID will be sold, without recourse by individuals to change or prevent it. It makes sense, too, because that way, not only does the government get a new revenue stream from handing over our data to mailing list companies and direct marketers, but Coles will be able to track your purchases and turn you in to the government if you exceed the daily calorie intake established by Health Minister Tony Abbott, or Hoyts can let them know if you go see movies like Paradise Now, or ANZ Bank can inform Parliament of foreign exchange transactions. Or more likely, they can use the information to send you some junk mail.
But at least Joe Hockey’s honest about it.
Finally, a politician willing to come out and say that the data collected for the government “Smart Card” ID will be sold, without recourse by individuals to change or prevent it. It makes sense, too, because that way, not only does the government get a new revenue stream from handing over our data to mailing list companies and direct marketers, but Coles will be able to track your purchases and turn you in to the government if you exceed the daily calorie intake established by Health Minister Tony Abbott, or Hoyts can let them know if you go see movies like Paradise Now, or ANZ Bank can inform Parliament of foreign exchange transactions. Or more likely, they can use the information to send you some junk mail.
But at least Joe Hockey’s honest about it.
10 May 2006
Water Park
If there's one good thing about having a house full of kittens, as M. points out, it's the requirement to regale all around you with kitten stories, like how one fell into the toilet last night and in his subsequent freak-out, sent everything on the shelf above it everywhere, or how the other, not satisfied with also falling into the (other) toilet this morning and putting water all over the bathroom floor, then found himself too interested in the washing machine not to find out if it, too, was full of water, but then treated as a most excellent game of hide-and-seek: can you find me? can you find me? Eventually, yes. All lids are now down, all closet doors are now shut. What were we thinking? Never mind, eventually, when they've settled a bit more, I'll set the camera flash off at them and post Friday Cat Blogging photos.
If there's one good thing about having a house full of kittens, as M. points out, it's the requirement to regale all around you with kitten stories, like how one fell into the toilet last night and in his subsequent freak-out, sent everything on the shelf above it everywhere, or how the other, not satisfied with also falling into the (other) toilet this morning and putting water all over the bathroom floor, then found himself too interested in the washing machine not to find out if it, too, was full of water, but then treated as a most excellent game of hide-and-seek: can you find me? can you find me? Eventually, yes. All lids are now down, all closet doors are now shut. What were we thinking? Never mind, eventually, when they've settled a bit more, I'll set the camera flash off at them and post Friday Cat Blogging photos.
09 May 2006
Gridlock
I signed a petition years ago to close Central Park to traffic. Sure, now they do it. Although the Olmstead design included carriageways for the gentry to drive their four-in-hand rigs through to the benefit of each other’s fashion sense, the advent of the automobile brought a different sense to personal transportation, one not amenable to parks, unless we’re talking about drag racing or LeMans. It’s about time somebody did something about it, even if it’s just a limited restriction for a limited duration. Traffic around the park won’t be pretty while everyone works out their routes, though.
I signed a petition years ago to close Central Park to traffic. Sure, now they do it. Although the Olmstead design included carriageways for the gentry to drive their four-in-hand rigs through to the benefit of each other’s fashion sense, the advent of the automobile brought a different sense to personal transportation, one not amenable to parks, unless we’re talking about drag racing or LeMans. It’s about time somebody did something about it, even if it’s just a limited restriction for a limited duration. Traffic around the park won’t be pretty while everyone works out their routes, though.
Good News: Down Unders Now Above Ground
The trapped Tasmanian miners are out at last. The news reports kept saying “two days,” “two days,” but in the end it was two weeks. So of course Webb & Russell walked out under their own power; they probably rode back up the elevator alone, too: after two weeks in a pit without a toilet or even a damp rag, I’m betting they stunk bad. These guys were very lucky, and not just because their circumstances at the time of the cave-in spared them: they also get to have a beer with the Foo Fighters.
The trapped Tasmanian miners are out at last. The news reports kept saying “two days,” “two days,” but in the end it was two weeks. So of course Webb & Russell walked out under their own power; they probably rode back up the elevator alone, too: after two weeks in a pit without a toilet or even a damp rag, I’m betting they stunk bad. These guys were very lucky, and not just because their circumstances at the time of the cave-in spared them: they also get to have a beer with the Foo Fighters.
The System Works
Now that Moussaoui believes he got a fair trial, he’d like another. Or could his motivation have something to do with where he’ll be spending the rest of his life?
Now that Moussaoui believes he got a fair trial, he’d like another. Or could his motivation have something to do with where he’ll be spending the rest of his life?
08 May 2006
Variations on Domestic Violence
It’s a serious subject, and I don’t mean to take anything away from that, but this has been four days of varying degrees of trouble, negative and positive, really. In the first place, Thursday night I’d had it with our neighbor’s incessant doof-doof party music after nine p.m. and (again) rang the cops to make a noise complaint. I feel a little bad about it now, because at about the same time the patrolman showed up, Party Girl had switched off, on her way out. The music had all been getting-in-the-mood tunes and only for the forty-five minutes it took her to complete her preparations. If I’d known, I suppose I might have endured, but that’s not something I could have known without knocking on her door to ask her to shut or turn it down, a step I’ve given up taking. All we ever hear are excuses or denials, so cops was the best obvious step. Unfortunately for her, she took it in bad part and started cursing and giving the cop attitude and, when he refused to stop writing the summons and insisted on getting her name, she started kicking and shoving him out of her door. Bad move: it’s called assaulting an officer, and he called it in. Within a minute or two, we had six or seven cops hauling her off to the station, pretty nearly carrying her off bodily while she freaked out, screaming her head off in the hall, crying, pleading, arguing, and just generally beside herself. All we wanted was a little peace and quiet for once, and if she’d just taken the ticket, she’d have made it to her party. Instead she ended up in the psych ward for an evaluation of her mental status, followed by a few hours at the station house being booked. She didn’t end up held overnight, but she’s headed for court. At least the music stopped.
After all that drama, however, we then proceeded on Saturday to inflict further violence upon our home, by adopting two six-month-old kitten brothers from the Cat Protection Society, in Newtown. One, a pretty charcoal tabby, is a scaredy cat, spending an awful lot of time behind the sofa, while the other, more outgoing, black-and-white formal-dress cat, marches around the apartment purring his head off or chasing everything within and outside immediate reach that looks like it might be a mouse, including house plants and items of furniture. My hands sting from the minor scratches and bites. At least they’re not disco fans.
It’s a serious subject, and I don’t mean to take anything away from that, but this has been four days of varying degrees of trouble, negative and positive, really. In the first place, Thursday night I’d had it with our neighbor’s incessant doof-doof party music after nine p.m. and (again) rang the cops to make a noise complaint. I feel a little bad about it now, because at about the same time the patrolman showed up, Party Girl had switched off, on her way out. The music had all been getting-in-the-mood tunes and only for the forty-five minutes it took her to complete her preparations. If I’d known, I suppose I might have endured, but that’s not something I could have known without knocking on her door to ask her to shut or turn it down, a step I’ve given up taking. All we ever hear are excuses or denials, so cops was the best obvious step. Unfortunately for her, she took it in bad part and started cursing and giving the cop attitude and, when he refused to stop writing the summons and insisted on getting her name, she started kicking and shoving him out of her door. Bad move: it’s called assaulting an officer, and he called it in. Within a minute or two, we had six or seven cops hauling her off to the station, pretty nearly carrying her off bodily while she freaked out, screaming her head off in the hall, crying, pleading, arguing, and just generally beside herself. All we wanted was a little peace and quiet for once, and if she’d just taken the ticket, she’d have made it to her party. Instead she ended up in the psych ward for an evaluation of her mental status, followed by a few hours at the station house being booked. She didn’t end up held overnight, but she’s headed for court. At least the music stopped.
After all that drama, however, we then proceeded on Saturday to inflict further violence upon our home, by adopting two six-month-old kitten brothers from the Cat Protection Society, in Newtown. One, a pretty charcoal tabby, is a scaredy cat, spending an awful lot of time behind the sofa, while the other, more outgoing, black-and-white formal-dress cat, marches around the apartment purring his head off or chasing everything within and outside immediate reach that looks like it might be a mouse, including house plants and items of furniture. My hands sting from the minor scratches and bites. At least they’re not disco fans.
04 May 2006
No Houris for an Indeterminate Duration
If there’s one good thing about the Moussaoui verdict, it’s that he’s on his way to Florence, Colorado, a “supermax”, or “control unit” federal prison. Control unit prisons are all solitary confinement, with cells typically measuring six by eight feet, wherein the prisoner spends 22 to 23 hours of each day. There’s no congregating of any kind between prisoners, not for meals, not for work, not for religious services. USP Florence was “purpose built” as a control unit lockup to replace the one at Marion, Illinois, where the Bureau of Prisons had made it a practice to send its most difficult prisoners, those causing the most disruption to operations elsewhere in the system, and one fairly notorious for prisoner abuse. Florence is modelled on California’s Pelican Bay “Security Housing Unit,” and has as a primary feature a high level of automation to reduce direct prisoner-guard interactions. In other words, ol’ Zach’s going to spend the rest of his life in the most appropriate temporal conditions to his crimes, although with no further consideration of his evident insanity than that he won’t be executed.
If there’s one good thing about the Moussaoui verdict, it’s that he’s on his way to Florence, Colorado, a “supermax”, or “control unit” federal prison. Control unit prisons are all solitary confinement, with cells typically measuring six by eight feet, wherein the prisoner spends 22 to 23 hours of each day. There’s no congregating of any kind between prisoners, not for meals, not for work, not for religious services. USP Florence was “purpose built” as a control unit lockup to replace the one at Marion, Illinois, where the Bureau of Prisons had made it a practice to send its most difficult prisoners, those causing the most disruption to operations elsewhere in the system, and one fairly notorious for prisoner abuse. Florence is modelled on California’s Pelican Bay “Security Housing Unit,” and has as a primary feature a high level of automation to reduce direct prisoner-guard interactions. In other words, ol’ Zach’s going to spend the rest of his life in the most appropriate temporal conditions to his crimes, although with no further consideration of his evident insanity than that he won’t be executed.
01 May 2006
Pope Gets a Taste of Tibet
Now Benedict knows how the Dalai Lama feels, sharing the experience of having China appoint a bishop for him, the way Tenzin Gyatso found himself with a new Panchen Lama in 1995. Of course, it would be more analogous if China’s latest religious appointment was a Cardinal, and one of the papal succession electors, but you get the picture. I’m betting the Vatican rolls over on this one.
Now Benedict knows how the Dalai Lama feels, sharing the experience of having China appoint a bishop for him, the way Tenzin Gyatso found himself with a new Panchen Lama in 1995. Of course, it would be more analogous if China’s latest religious appointment was a Cardinal, and one of the papal succession electors, but you get the picture. I’m betting the Vatican rolls over on this one.
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