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Averting Catastrophe Thoughts (2-29-2004)

This has me concerned: a leaked Pentagon report warns that climate change may bring famine and war, offering some of the following examples: English winters in 20 years that rival those currently suffered by Siberians; heavy storms within the next five years could make parts of the Netherlands uninhabitable (not that I care about the Netherlands) and destroy the California aqueduct system; massive shifts in population from areas wiped out by rising sea levels or made unfarmable by drought; and catastrophic shortages of potable water that could lead to widespread war by 2020.

We should have been warned sooner.

On the other hand, the last thing I needed last month was to have President Bush warn me that we were all going to die from an asteroid impact. I'm glad it turned out to be a false alarm.

Have you ever stopped to think about what such a warning would really do for us? Would religion become all-important, or completely irrelevant? If it looked like we were all about to be destroyed in an instant, that would severely damage my faith in God. I would conclude that God did not exist or was disinterested in our existence. Either concept is a major downer.

If we thought an asteroid was about to destroy the planet, as we know it, I think society would fall apart overnight. Who would provide goods and services? Not me. I'd be busy with other things. One thing is for sure. I would wish I had been more of a guns and ammo freak. One glock and a few hundred slugs wouldn't give me nearly enough protection.

The Interesting Choice of Words award should go to the author of this AP quote last week:

"At the prodding of Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, California's attorney general asked the state's top court Friday to bar San Francisco from issuing same-sex marriage licenses...."

I would think that a man-prodding bodybuilder would favor gay marriage, but he doesn't. Neither do I. And Jesse Jackson, John Kerry and John Edwards all agree with me. Would someone please check to see if Hell has frozen over?

It's not just a religious thing; there are a lot of arguably immoral things that should not be banned under secular law. And I don't want to stir up this kind of hornet's nest; I just think gay marriage is bad public policy.

If equal protection justifies gay marriage, it should also justify polygamy, especially for those who claim a religious basis for same. And I don't support that either. The claim that it justifies incest, however, is not as strong. Under a heightened scrutiny test, the biological issues raised by incest would be enough to support a ban. In fact, for those same reasons (and I know I'm not very progressive on this point, either) I also think ugly people should not be allowed to marry.

Speaking of whom, Rosie O'Donnell got married this week. Rosie argues that anybody who opposes gay marriage is mean, vicious and hateful. I don't think that opposing gay marriage is the same as hating gay people. Not at all. It is a reasonable value to hold. Not everyone shares such values, but give me a break, someone who disagrees with something that has been rejected by every society in recorded history is not spreading hate. Embracing a concept -- one man, one woman -- that is older than any society in existence today, is neither stunning, nor mean nor hateful.

Mean would be calling her "Rosie O'Fat" (her Rome show "gloss") and reminding her that she is ugly, unpleasant to everyone around her and hated by most of her staff. Her girlfriend, or wife, or whatever, who probably loves her for her money, could do much better. If she was straight, O'Fat couldn't get laid unless she plied a horny stranger with drugs or alcohol. And her comedy is unfunny.

That would be mean. And I don't want to be mean.

A few years ago, when rumors started spreading about NFL player Esera Tuaolo being gay, his former teammate, Craig Sauer, told him: "You know I disagree with it and I believe God forbids it, but I love you like a brother. If you can handle me not agreeing with your lifestyle, then we can be friends."

That's about how I feel about the subject. Some will accept that. Some won't. So be it.

Discrimination Is Everywhere

The typical right-handed person outlives the typical left-handed person by nine years, according to one study. Why? Discrimination, that's why.

Laughing Spam Sticker Thoughts (2-27-2004)

As any Janet Jackson fan can tell you, some people with body piercings are cooler than others. This dude is not one of the cool ones.

You know how people are supposed to look like their dogs? I think I found that guy's dog.

If you drive a Geo, you should have your furniture purchases delivered. I've noticed that the Geo looks even more lame than usual when it has your new dresser sticking out of the back.

Note to William Hung, the awful "She Bangs" singer from American Idol. Not matter how many times you appear on TV, they are laughing at you, not with you. Most of them, at least. I, for one, am not laughing with you.

Because I like laughing at people, I have a new favorite Bruin: Dijon Thompson. Thanks, Dijon, for fouling Desmon Farmer, but not fouling him hard enough to make him miss the winning shot. And a special thanks for choking both free throws at the end of overtime. Let's see, that makes five straight in football, and now four straight in basketball.

The defection of Mike Williams notwithstanding, USC is on a roll. The Trojans have added three team national championships this year, including football. They added the top recruiting class in the country. Meanwhile across town, the Bruins have added a quarterbacks coach, by raiding the coaching staff of Northwest Missouri State. Can you picture Karl Dorrell telling the A.D. "if he's good enough for Northwest Missouri State, he should be good enough for UCLA." Neither can I.

USC's momentum has caught the attention of the Democratic Party, which sent its presidential candidates to USC's Bovard Auditorium for the latest round of debates. UCLA got a visit from the Vice President of Nigeria. Rumor has it, he offered them a way to make $16 million dollars each by laundering money from the Nigerian government.

My favorite Democrat is John Edwards. His critics say Edwards is a trial lawyer who made millions by driving up medical costs with malpractice suits. That, of course, is nonsense. His millions were earned charging extremely high legal fees to seriously injured victims of careless doctors. If he hadn't taken the millions, the money would have been kept by the victims. The medical care system wouldn't have saved a dime.

I wish I had the opportunity to make millions by charging extremely high legal fees to seriously injured victims of careless doctors. Sadly, I cannot.

I wonder if this plan to send money for gay wedding flowers is anything more than a scam to skim money off people who like to feel good about radical political activism. I have a couple of gay colleagues who actually ran flower shops for a living, and they gave me no flowers for my wedding, so I haven't donated to the cause.

Do you get the sense that gay marriage is going to be the topic of conversation for 2004?

Interesting point raised by someone other than me: If the mayor of San Francisco had issued concealed weapon permits allowing people to carry banned assault weapons, every normal person who is not in a gun club would be freaking out, in spite of the Constitutional right to bear arms.

I got an "Edwards for President" bumper sticker this week. But I'm not putting it on my car. Have you ever noticed that most people who put bumper stickers on their cars are strange looking? Their cars usually suck, too. There is only one circumstance under which I would put a bumper sticker on a car -- If someone started selling bumper stickers that said: "Key This Asshole's Car." I would buy those in quantity.

The only thing that I get in quantity now is spam. I have a cable modem and web access via my local cable provider. The account comes with an email address that I have never given to anyone and had never, until this week, checked for incoming messages. I had 1,137 new messages. They were all spam.

The only one that I read was ironically entitled "No more spam. We can help you!" It was, of course, spam promoting a company that sold spamblockers. Sadly, they provided no 800 number for me to put on the autodial.

I want stronger laws to prevent spam. I'd particularly like it if the laws gave me the opportunity to make millions by charging extremely high legal fees to large numbers of seriously annoyed victims of spam disseminators.

That would make spam cool.

Yes. I am the CIA.

Representing employees in lawsuits against crooked employers is rewarding. But getting clients can be an adventure. We have to kiss a lot of frogs, as the saying goes. We get some really, really strange ones sometimes. We once had a client threaten to kill us (and the judge) if we lost a pending motion for summary judgment. We won, fortunately. Since then, we've been more careful about who we represent. The conspiracy theorists are the most disturbing. I once had a prospect call me and engage me in the following conversation:

POTENTIAL CLIENT: I want to sue my employer for wrongful termination.

ME: I see. And why do you think your termination was wrongful?

POTENTIAL CLIENT: Before we discuss that, I want to clear something up first.

ME: Okay, what do we need to clear up?

POTENTIAL CLIENT: There is an issue of politics. You see, my employer has very close ties to some high ranking people. This goes back to the Johnson administration. I think they considered me a political enemy.

ME: Who considered you a political enemy?

POTENTIAL CLIENT: Everybody, man. CIA, FBI, DEA.... Like I said, the company's owners have close ties to high ranking people. Very high ranking people.

ME: And you think that this had something to do with your termination?

POTENTIAL CLIENT: Naturally. There is no other explanation. It's obvious. But before we talk about this any further, I need to know that your firm isn't involved with the CIA or the FBI.

ME (after a short pause): Or the DEA, I'm sure. Well, to be honest, our firm has done some work in the past with some of those agencies. To avoid the appearance of impropriety, you might be better off speaking to someone at a different firm.

POTENTIAL CLIENT: I appreciate your honesty, but I don't think I want this conversation to go any further. [Click]

California Baby Hurricanes

The forecast for tonight is heavy rain and heavy winds. It's not going to be a hurricane or anything, but it looks pretty nasty. Here in Southern California, if the forecast calls for anything more than a tenth of an inch, the local news stations all go on "Storm Watch" mode, sending reporters out into the rain to bring us the latest word on nature's fury. The coverage is usually pretty weak.

I am quite impressed, however, with the news guys in Florida and North Carolina and such places who go out in the middle of hurricanes to broadcast live. I'd bet a month's pay that a news reporter who did a live shot during a hurricane would get monster ratings if he flew away and disappeared beneath the surf. I would watch over and over again.

I wouldn't want to see a hurricane in my town, but I think it would be interesting to experience a hurricane just once. In particular, I think it would be fun to drive through a category two hurricane with a 100 mile per hour tailwind, and then accelerate to 100, stick my face out the window and see if my hair got messed up.

I'm going to put that on my list of things to do before I die. But I'm going to save it for last. Just in case it doesn't go as well as planned.

The Beauty of Corporate Sponsorship

The Mighty Ducks play their home games at the Pond in Anaheim.

So where do you suppose the New Jersey Devils play theirs?

My first guess would not have been Continental Airlines Arena. But, then I flew to Houston and back on Continental. It was Hell.

Suddenly, the arena name made sense.

Green - The Color of Envy

I'm tired of hearing about how wicked my people are, and how harmonious every other society is with nature. The next time you hear an environmentalist romanticize about the Native American's respect for nature, ask him why he thinks the woolly mammoth and mastodon are extinct.

Buffalo and Bigfoot Thoughts (2-22-2004)

Q: Is anything on television more pathetic than the Surreal World?
A: Yes. Surreal World 2.

I tried. I gave it ten minutes. Three times. It was really bad. Not even funny bad. Just bad.

I used to love Sid 'n' Marty Krofft's shows. Sigmund & the Sea Monsters, H R Puf 'n' Stuf, Land of the Lost, Bigfoot & Wild Boy and The Bugaloos rocked when I was a kid. I even once had a crush on Joy -- the cute chick Bugaloo who never appeared in anything ever again. Then, 25 years passed, and I got the chance to start watching them again on The Cox Retro Saturday morning show. I can't believe I ever tolerated them. Maybe they will be better next week. Maybe they will show Lidsville, too.

Television definitely influences my sleep patterns, which is why I rarely watch the 11 o'clock news anymore. The last thing I see before I nod off often shows up in my dreams. I don't want it to be a shooting or an abducted kid.

So I watched Bigfoot and Wild Boy in the morning, and washed it down with some TiVoed Conspiracy Theory before bed. Add to this the fact that I am utterly exhausted after some major depositions and an argument before the 4th District Court of Appeals this week, and I am primed for some crazy REM sleep.

The middle of the night finds me transformed (in my dreams) into the Sasquatch. Three men with guns are tracking me through the hills, which are covered with a foot or two of dead, cut, hay-like grass. They spot me from half a ridge away and quickly move to the bottom of the hill to give chase. For a moment, this takes them out of my line of sight.

I seize this opportunity and (in the dream) I begin digging a hole in the brush. I crawl into the hole and cover myself. After a short while, I hear voices, and they grow closer until they surround me. Suddenly, someone reaches down (in the dream) and sweeps away the brush, exposing me. I'm trapped! I have no choice but to attack, so I jump up (in the dream) spread my arms out and let out a great big "ROAR!"

That last part really happened.

And it startled the hell out of my wife, who promptly woke me to ask why I was growling at the top of my lungs.

I had no good explanation.

Sort of like Gary Barnett, who had no good explanation for his comments about Katie Hnida, the female placekicker who was allegedly raped by a teammate. Rather than come out and say that, if the allegation is proven, there should be hell to pay, he decided to kick Katie when she was down:

"It's a guy's sport, and they felt like Katie was forced on them. It was obvious Katie was not very good. She was awful. You know what guys do, they respect your ability. I mean you can be 90 years old, but if you can go out and play, they respect you. Well, Katie was a girl. Not only was she a girl, she was terrible. And there's no other way to say it. She couldn't kick the ball through the uprights."

I hope nobody asks him his opinion of the JonBenet Ramsey case. If somebody does ask, he'd better not launch a critique of her kickball skills.

Don't people realize that words have meaning? Unless you are a comic, or a blogger, or some other person who is not meant to be taken seriously, you have to watch what you say, especially if there are reporters around.

When there are credible stories being told about your players getting to rape co-eds during official campus visits, you should say nothing that could even be misconstrued to sound insensitive.

There are no words to describe how dumb Barnett's statement was. It wasn't dumb. It wasn't dumber than dumb. It was even dumber than dumbest (with apologies to DirecTV spokesman Andy Garcia). He made it sound like she deserved to be raped; that her rape was just a typical hazing incident; and that everyone is just overreacting.

Barnett protests that the comments were taken out of context. Coach, the context is exactly what made the comments so horrible. You should just quit and go hang out with Jimmy the Greek, Al Campanis, Rush Limbaugh, Willie from KC (a Rome clone) and all the other clowns who don't know when to keep their big mouths shut.

I am sure Gary Barnett is still a very skilled football coach, but he should never coach again. If he does, and if he embarrasses his school by saying something stupid and insensitive, the person who hired him should be fired, too.

Say goodnight Gary.

Stuff To Do Online (Part I)

The killer app of blogging appears, to me, to be the exchange of information about other interesting websites, including games and weird activities. Before I became a bjournalist, I had never heard of any of these places.

First, the monkey stuff:

The Top 50 Monkeys of All Time: Though I quarrel with the ranking of Gleek (24) ahead of Chim Chim (48) , the Rally Monkey (44) and the Grape Ape (43).

The Quizno's Sponge Monkeys don't rule like other monkeys rule, but they are funny. I am inexplicably drawn to them.

You can start to feel sleepy, very sleepy.

When I count to three, you will be a monkey.

Okay, one, two, three. Now it's time to snap a self-portrait.

Other fun or strange things to do or watch include:

This coin bird video is ridiculous, but I sat through the whole thing. Twice. I still don't quite understand the joke. "Angry for coins?" What the hell is that all about?

I didn't dig Weapon of Choice until I saw the Christopher Walken video. I now know the video would be almost as good with a stick figure.

This is just a picture, but it gives me the willies just looking at it.

You can have your name written on a piece of paper in front of somebody's boobs. (Warning! This link has a link to a girl's naked boobs.)

Or you can look at girls who show their boobs while they are riding amusement park rides. (Warning! This link, in turn, has links to really nasty stuff.)

You, too, can have your picture of a toy car featured here.

I want to be featured in this game, but I'm not.

You can see if your phone number spells anything.

You can see if your name can be rearranged to spell something more interesting.

If you look at this stuff at work, make this or this your home page and click on it whenever you want your screen to reflect hard work that you are not doing. My employees can't get away with this, though, because I know the trick.

You can be insulted by clicking a link that will tell you to go perform a crude act upon yourself. Better yet, you can make that your boss's home page when he isn't looking.

You can spread lies:

Either on purpose,

Or due to your own naiveté.

Or you can help others avoid lying little Russian bride scams at this website. Of course, anyone who pays for a Russian bride is a loser anyway, so never mind.

You can play fun games, such as:

1. The Unibrow Match Game: This was fun for a little while.

2. I could bat this penguin silly all day long.

3. But this fly plucking game got old really fast.

4. Throwing rocks at boys is clever, but if they called it throwing rocks at girls, I think the nation would collectively have a cow. My youngest daughter just loves it.

5. In this cop shooting game, I generally pull the trigger too soon, says the programmer.

6. You can make art like Picasso.

7. And you can attempt to overcome futility.

You can see other people, like:

This guy, who really needs to smile more.

And this chick, whose UCLA football pants and 1,000 weird sweaters creep me out.

I'm not sure if this character is for real. Is he a community savior, or a peeping Tom? You decide.

This is the only weblog that ever made me cry. And I never knew about it until after Candygirl died. Perhaps a blessing, because I would have been checking it every day and having serious bipolar afterthoughts.

You can rate yourself or others:

I wish they had this when I was in college: Rate Your Professor.

Can you spot the fake smile? I guessed wrong 6 times. Subject #13 was really really ugly. Subject #18 looks like she's been possessed.

If you are tricked by this image, you might not want to meet the person behind the next link.

This could happen to you, if you aren't careful.

You can take online tests to find out more about yourself:

My professors should have taken the grunting caveman test.

Which Peanuts character are you? This will help you figure it out.

If this what number are you quiz has a point, I fail to see it.

You can test your temperament here:

This personality test correctly predicted what line of work I chose.

This page has a good Myers-Briggs test. I found out that I've become less extroverted since college, but I'm still an NTP.

On this morality test, I don't really know where my score belongs, because I cheated.

Not sure who to vote for? This candidate compatibility test can help you decide. It's not foolproof, though. It says I am 100% with George Bush, even though I know I've abandoned my party on at least five important social and political issues, not the least of which is my intense hatred of tort reform.

What does that make me? According to the "Are You a Freak?" website, I'm 67% freak. (Spanglemonkey found that one.)

Finally, (and RetroGirl found this for me), in this 80's music test, I only got one wrong ("scarily well," they called it), but I got screwed in their point system by being born before Woodstock, even though I was way too young to know what a Woodstock was.

Rainy Bare Headline Thoughts (2-20-2004)

I'm glad Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow this month. We need buckets of rain before winter calls it a year.

Sometimes, when it rains, I like to open my office window to hear the rain slapping the balcony. I don't hear that sound often enough.

When it does rain, I want it to rain hard enough to clean my car. I hate washing my car.

I hate washing someone else's car even more. So, from now on, I am not taking any more vacations that last so long that I feel compelled to wash my rental car.

How long would you have to rent a car before you took it through a car wash? If it's so dirty that I would be embarrassed to have a homeless person see me in it, I'll have it washed. But I'm definitely not buying the super wash with wax.

Some people in my neighborhood think that whoever had to wait in the longest line at the stop sign gets to go first, even if they are the ones turning left in front of me. One of these days, I might just ram into one of them. In the truck, of course, not the BMW.

Also, when making a right turn on a green light, you do not have to stop and let people turn left in front of you. You have the right of way.

Pass it on.

Bad advertising, part one:
I saw this Super Bowl ad on AOL for Levitra. Didn't know what Levitra was, but it looked interesting. So I took the Levitra challenge. Turns out, I'm not a candidate, because my naughty pieces still work.

Bad advertising, part two:
This toy is just sick. It's only redeeming quality: It teaches your kids how to practice Russian roulette harmlessly, so that they are really, really good at it when they start playing for real.

This week was so busy and so stressful, I only had time to read headlines. I don't actually know what the stories said. But that wasn't enough to keep me from forming opinions.

Headline reads: "Man Plans Topless Coffee Shop in Maine."
So I think, this is a bad business plan. Who would want to buy coffee from a topless man?

Headline reads: "Americans Urged to Leave Haiti."
And I think, when, before now, were Americans not urged to stay out of Haiti?

Headline reads: "New York Driver Nabbed While Watching Porn Movie."
And I'm thinking, I'm glad this guy didn't stop when I tried to flag him down on 42nd Street,

Headline reads: "Doctors Find 350 Coins in Patient's Belly."
I definitely think there has to be a better way for doctors to make a few bucks while treating their patients.

Headline reads: "Sexy Dog Not in Mood."
Okay, I read the subheading on this one: "A drunken Thai man was mauled when a dog he tried to rape resisted his advances."
And (after I think "That was really gross!") I think Bill Clinton is lucky he never got mauled by any of the dogs he tried to bone.

Headline reads: "Girl Suspended for Saying Boy Would Go to Hell."
And I'm thinking, it's a good thing Mel Gibson doesn't go to that school.

Headline reads: "Second American in Brazil Fined for Gesture."
I thought the first guy was funny. This second dude was just stupid. A fool and his money should not go to Brazil.

Headline reads: "100 Men in NYC Seek Right to Wear Skirts."
I think I'm just going to assume that they all got married this week in San Francisco.

Headline reads: "Court Says Cop Wrongly Fired for Masturbation Video."
And I'm thinking, did they discipline the pervert who discovered what this cop was doing in his off-duty hours?

Headline reads: "Residents Cut Off Child Rapist's Penis."
I think, there's a good way to cut down on recidivism.

Headline reads: "German Cannibal Convicted of Manslaughter."
Finally, the right verdict for someone guilty of slaughtering a man. If you slaughter a man, you should get manslaughter. That makes sense. One of the things that disappointed me in law school was the school's failure to explain why manslaughter is less serious than ordinary, everyday, murder. Generally, if you slaughter people, you get convicted of murder. But if you kill someone by mistake, or recklessness, or without intent, they convict you of manslaughter. Does that make any sense? Such degrees of killing were clearly not created by a linguist.

Finally, while we're on the subject of slaughter,

No headline, but this chicken obviously loves life more than the other chickens. Too bad he didn't actually get away.

Why I Like Them

I have links to a few other people's web journals on the left. Who are these people and why do I read their stuff?

Retro Girl @ California Dreaming: She's found some interesting 80's stuff; she grew up near San Diego; and she's going into business for herself. All outstanding. And she just taught me how to mix a hurricane. Between that and my prowess at making Adios Mothers, I can send anyone into oblivion in just two plastic cups.

Greg @ Cranky Greg: Though he likes the Giants, Greg is a lawyer who understands the greatness of Shaver Lake. I give that two thumbs up.

Doug @ Dakota Today: He found me first, and I checked out his site when I started getting traffic from it. I disagree with a lot of his politics, but it's well thought out, and hey, he's a farmer. My people were farmers just two generations back.

Heather @ Dooce: First, she and her husband look a lot like two of my friends. And they got married in Yosemite, which is exceptionally cool. And her page is sometimes quite insightful.

Dude Man @ DudeManNews: He and I are amused by the same sorts of new stories, and he often finds them before I do.

Reid @ Faith Gamble: Highly spiritual, his blog often inspires me, so I look past the fact that he is a Hawkeye. Plus, I can identify with a guy who blows his ankle out playing one on one.

Ryan @ Gorilla Mask: Can be side-splitting funny; boldly goes where I dare not go; and bags mercilessly on that loser who is distributing his homemade Paris Hilton porn. Best work includes the likes of the following: "I spent the day cussing at a casino. Warning: here comes a bitchfest. Because it's going to be embarassing for you when your baby's momma is a goat, and the doctor looks at you and says 'thank God the child looks like her mother.'" Ouch.

Maggie @ MightyGirl: The Tagline "Famous Among Dozens" is something I wish I had thought up first. She's funny -- showing me how to find Valentine cards that say "If you ever get mauled by bears, I hope they stay away from your face, because I think you're cute." Plus, her site is how I found Dooce.

Mikro @ MikroBlog: Another left-wing political themed site. Helps me keep tabs on the opposition so I can maintain favor within the vast right-wing conspiracy. Might know Brittney (see below).

Jo @ SpangleMonkey: Because Monkeys Rule, of course.

Brittney @ Sparkwood & 21: Her "Itty-Bitty Blog" sometimes cracks me up. She is a restaurant worker whom I would readily champion against the constant abuses of restaurant management if only she lived in California. She turned me on to The Stained Apron.

Kim @ The Stained Apron: Hers is the best pro-restaurant-worker spot in cyberspace. She was traumatized by working at my favorite defendant, er, restaurant.

Cow @ Bovine in the Black Cloak: Introduced me to Live Journal, which makes him cool even though he is a Husky. On second thought, all Pac-10 guys are okay, as long as they aren't Bruins. And Cow is no Bruin.

Technically, They Like Us

I've noticed that the guys who hate lawyers the most are the same guys who wouldn't think twice about cornering me at a party and asking me how to get out of a drunk driving case on a technicality.

Let's Call It Ex-LAX

Does anyone other than me feel a bit nervous about the security at an airport that calls itself "LAX"?

More Monkey Talk Thoughts (2-16-2004)

So, I'm reading the story of the ten little monkeys jumping on the bed. It goes something like this (over and over and over) "One fell down and bumped his head. Momma called the doctor and the doctor said 'No more monkeys, jumping on the bed.'" After the first page, there are nine such monkeys, then eight, then seven, and so on, none of whom learn the easy way -- by watching their foolish siblings getting hurt and thereafter avoiding the conduct that caused the injury. This is not a good lesson for little kids.

The story also ends without really telling us what we want to know. What happened to the first monkeys? How badly were they hurt? Which of the monkeys was the most seriously injured? Did they get spankings? And why didn't momma monkey watch the other baby monkeys more carefully after the first one fell? Your smarter toddlers want to know, but I don't have the teacher's edition that, I assume, has the answers to these questions.

I should stop talking about monkeys. I know this not so much because my friends and family have told me -- though they undoubtedly should have done so by now -- but, rather, because Google has made it quite clear that I talk too much about monkeys.

If you do a Google search for:
relaxed monkey
butt sniffing monkey or
monkey sniffing butt
and hit the "I'm Feeling Lucky" button, you will end up right back here at my bjournal.

This begs the question of why someone who is searching for a butt sniffing monkey would ever feel lucky, but apparently, some do. Typepad lets me see the links that draw people to this bjournal, and about ten percent come from Google and its butt sniffing monkey searches.

It's hard not to talk about monkeys, though, especially in this, the Year of the Monkey. And let's face it. Monkeys are cool. If you look at Yahoo's most popular pictures, you will usually find at least one or two photographs of monkeys. Why? Because people dig monkeys.

I hate spiders, but I love spider monkeys.

I hate rallies, but I love the Rally Monkey.

I hate flying, but I love the flying monkeys.

For years, I wondered what those flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz were called. I was recently disappointed to learn that they're just called flying monkeys.

I once jokingly referred to certain members of the United States Air Force as flying monkeys. I thought that, because I was in the company of a bunch of Navy guys, this would go over well. It didn't. They threatened to kick my ass. So I guess not everyone likes to be associated with monkeys. But, unlike Howard Cosell, I learned my lesson the easy way.

Why do I like monkeys? Largely because they are so much like humans. After all, humans are basically just complex, smart monkeys with souls, well developed voice boxes and written language skills. Have you seen Prophecy? I loved those scenes in which Christopher Walken's character, the bitter archangel Gabriel, keeps bitching about how much God loves the "talking monkeys." Talking monkeys? Oh, he means us.

My favorite movie ever was Altered States. The main reason, of course, was because I was fascinated by Professor Eddie Jessup's attempts to transmogrify himself into a monkey. Scientific experiments just don't get any better than that.

Some come close, though. Last year, some scientists performed an experiment to determine the likelihood that an infinite number of monkeys typing randomly on an infinite number of keyboards would eventually produce the works of Shakespeare.

Though the number of subject monkeys was finite, some people believe that they disproved the old theory. As it turns out, monkeys do not type randomly. Some don't type at all, but if they do type, they tend to prefer certain keys and will press the same favorite key or keys repeatedly.

In conducting this experiment, the same scientists inadvertently proved another long-suspected theory: that some scientists have wwwwwwwwway too much time -- and grant money -- on their hands.

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The Dog Wins

The philosophy of "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" is an effective way of maintaining order and obedience in human societies. It doesn't work with dogs, though, at least, not in all instances.

My dog barked at me. I barked back. She cocked her head to the side and stopped barking. For about a minute.

My dog pounced on me and got me dirty, so I pounced on her and got her dirty. She stopped pouncing. For about ten minutes.

My dog nipped at me, so I bit her back. She stopped biting. Maybe for good.

My dog shit on a wall inside my house.

Thus, endeth my experiment.

Overeaters Onymous

Overeaters Anonymous: This is a concept I do not understand.

Where is the anonymity? Like we couldn't pick these people out of a crowd? It's one thing to put on a suit and tie, head over to a Friends of Bill W meeting and say "Hi! My name is Jack, and I'm an alcoholic." After all, unless he's already a few drinks into the evening, Jack probably doesn't look like he's an alcoholic.

It's quite another thing, however, to draw your 425 pound carcass up from your aching chair and say "Hi! My name is Jack and I am an overeater."

No kidding, Jack. Without the big admission, we would never have guessed that you eat too much.

Romantic Shark Bite Thoughts (2-13-2004)

I had never even heard of a shark biting someone and gripping them all the way to the beach. But then, this week, I saw it on TV twice.

First, Luke Treslogavic, a snorkeler in Canberra, was attacked by a carpet shark (it's Australian for guppy). He responded by heading ashore and driving, with the shark still attached, to the local surf club for help. They removed the shark by hosing it with fresh water.

On the beach, there probably were some serious double takes. Do you think people talked to him? What do you say to someone with a shark stuck to his body?

"Hey, mate, it looks like there's a fish of some sort dangling from your leg."

"That's right, mate; I noticed it straight away, but thanks."

And the drive to the clubhouse? I don't know how this guy drove, but I know I would have considered exceeding the speed limit. And if I got pulled over, I'd have taken my chances that the cop had never heard this excuse before and he'd let me off with just a warning.

"Sorry, officer, it's just that there's this shark eating my leg, and I'm in kind of a hurry." Not only would he have had a decent shot at avoiding the ticket, he maybe could have had the cop shoot the shark.

This week on Survivor, we got to watch Richard Hatch enjoy the same treatment. He ate his attacker.

I suppose that if you are bitten by a shark, it might be good news if the shark doesn't let go. For one thing, it means that the shark didn't get a big enough piece of meat. If the shark takes a big chunk of your body and then swims away, you might survive to tell the story, but you might not. Secondly, you get your picture in the paper. Plus, you get to keep the shark when it's all over.

Despite all the excitement, I'd rather just avoid the sharks altogether. And just in case these things happen in groups of three, I'm going to stay out of the water for a few weeks.

If I had my druthers, I would stay out of the mall for a few weeks, too. But I don't have my druthers. So several times during the past few days, I've eaten lunch at the mall so I could sneak in a little shopping.

By the way, why, at the mall food court, do they make you stuff a huge tray full of crap into a tiny little hole above the trash can? I refuse to do it anymore. I'm just going to pile it up on top.

But I digress. Why have I been hitting the mall? Because Valentine's Day is coming up, of course. And I'm still trying to come up with an original way to show my wife how much I love her. I've definitely ruled out bringing her a shark to eat. But I do want to come up with something original.

Flowers are not original. Neither are chocolates.

I saw a suggestion in a news story that people stop looking at porn and call that their Valentine's Day gift. That's original. Then again, originality is not always a good thing.

John Hinckley's idea of shooting President Reagan was quite original. And yet, Jodie Foster was unimpressed.

Vincent Van Gogh offered the severed lower half of his left ear to a prostitute. That was original. And yet, Rachel -- the aforementioned prostitute -- was unimpressed.

Susan Smith drowned her sons to get Tom Findlay to want to marry her. That was fairly original. However, wicked, evil and pathetic is not the direction I'm trying to take.

I thought about a pair of great big fuzzy boots, but what if she doesn't like them? To avoid having them go to waste, I'd have to wear them, and then I'd look like this guy.

I don't know. I'm not very good at taking hints, and unless someone gives me a very good suggestion, pronto, there is just no way I am going to come up with anything good without coming out and asking her. I pay attention as much as the next guy. I just haven't picked up on any good clues.

I'm not the most clueless man of the year, though. That honor goes to British retiree Herbert Silver. Herb, who is 72, lived in a bachelor pad with his older brother, George. After a few months, maybe even many months, he noticed that George hadn't come out of his room for a while. When police went in to check on George, they found only a skeleton. Nobody had missed him. Nobody had even noticed he was gone. Not even Herb.

That is sad. How could such a thing happen? Maybe he gave really lousy presents.

Does a Bereshit in the Woods?

I once had a person tell me that the Bible was bullshit. I did not concur. However, it's hard to argue against the claim that the Bible starts with some bereshit. "Bereshit" is a Hebrew term that means "In the Beginning." True.

Bidding on Roo Nuts

You can buy almost anything on eBay. Do you need a kangaroo scrotum? Thanks to eBay, there's no need to drive all the way to the kangaroo scrotum store. Now, you can just peruse one of forty or more auctions and make your selection. There are always a bunch with buy-it-now prices of $9.99, but if you lay out more than five bucks, you are paying too high a price -- not as high as the price paid by the kangaroo, of course, but still too high.

Air Travel and Relativity

So, I'm flying home and I'm staring out the window, and I know we're going some 500 miles an hour. The screen in the headrest in front of me says so. Yet, looking out the window, it seems like we're barely moving.

So I turn the air vent to full blast, aim it at my face and close my eyes.

Damn! Now we're going FAST!

Free Will and Responsibility

I accept the fact that people don't take personal responsibility for their own actions. However, I never have liked, and never will like, the phrase "The devil made me do it." I prefer "It was the Lord's will that I done this terrible thing." Still, I believe in the concept of true free will and personal responsibility, so you will never hear me utter these words except in light-hearted jest or biting sarcasm.

Unlucky Floors

You probably noticed that hotels in the U.S. rarely have a 13th floor. At least, they say they don't. The truth is, they do, but they call it the "14th Floor." I'm not stupid enough to fall for that crap, though. I won't stay on the "14th" floor.

Killing Joe Smith Thoughts (2-7-2004)

I've been slightly nauseous all week. I don't think it was anything I ate. I don't think it was a virus. I think it was the news out of Sarasota.

Few things frighten me more than the thought of one of my daughters being abducted by a sexual predator. I know that it is not much worse than losing them to a drunk driver, a lightning bolt or an undertow, but still, watching the surveillance video of 11-year-old Carlie Brucia being lead off by what we now know to be the wicked, vile, Joseph P. Smith, has literally made me sick all week.

As the week wore on, the news got no better. When I learned of a suspect in custody, I saw nothing to celebrate. If you find the suspect, and he doesn't have the girl with him, it is rarely good news. The day after Smith was declared a suspect, the news got worse.

"The suspect is not cooperating."

There is no more telling clue that the abducted child is dead.

It broke my heart to watch the girl's parents grasping at the infinitesimal hope that their child was alive. And even though I knew it was inevitable, the news that they found her body on Friday hit me like a sucker punch below the belt.

Police say Smith told a cellmate that he had kidnapped and killed Carlie. Such tips are not always reliable. Cellmates conjure up false confessions all the time. However, in this case, according to early reports, the witness also said Smith boasted of dumping her body behind a local church, and that information allowed police to find Carlie's body behind the Central Church of Christ, near the carwash where she was abducted.

That is about as damning as a jail cell confession gets. Add that to the videotape, and the reported evidence that Carlie spent time in the suspect's piece of shit car, and you have a man who is guilty, guilty, guilty. Innocent until proven guilty? A figment of the law's imagination. Let me know when the lynch mob is forming. Give me six hours notice and I will be there. I have the miles in the bank. I know how to tie a rope. I'm here to help.

What kind of monster can do such a thing? Remarkably, in Smith, a man who has three daughters himself. That just blows me away. How does a man who has daughters of his own do this to someone else's daughter?

It is unfortunate that Smith wasn't put away years ago. He was arrested at least 13 times since 1993. Convicted of many lesser crimes, he was acquitted of kidnapping and false imprisonment charges in 1998, when a jury rejected a woman's claims that he told her he "would cut her" if she screamed, and believed Smith, who claimed he had grabbed the woman because he thought she was about to harm herself by jumping in front of traffic.

Smith's story reminds me a bit of Alejandro Avila, who killed 5-year-old Samantha Runnion in 2002. Avila had been acquitted on charges of molesting two young girls the previous year. This left him free to molest again, leaving no witness alive the second time.

Is it really better to have a justice system that lets ten guilty men go free rather than imprisoning one innocent man? I don't know. Is is better to jail a guy who looked guilty, but wasn't? Or is it better to bury little girls like Samantha and Carlie? Unless you are OJ Simpson, it's hard to argue that Samantha and Carlie's lives are worth less than their accusers'.

Some people deserve to die. I'm not sure I entirely buy into the eye-for-an-eye, tooth-for-a-tooth line of discipline in every case, but evil men deserve powerful justice. If you ruin or end lives without justification, you might deserve to die. In the case of Joseph Smith, it is fairly clear that the accused deserves to die.

Should we kill murderers to teach people that it is wrong to kill? Damn straight -- just like we imprison kidnappers to teach people that you should never hold people against their will.

So let's make sure Smith gets a fair trial, and then let's kill him. Let's make it painful and frightening. It might be cruel, but it won't be unusual, because Carlie Brucia has already been through it.

Science Prediction for 2004

Last March, researchers published their discovery that prostate removal surgery reduces penis length by as much as 15%.

This March, researchers are going to publish their discovery that surgery to add additional prostates can increase penis length by as much as 15% per additional prostate.

Hetchy If You Can

Yosemite is one of the most beautiful places on the planet, but almost as beautiful was the Hetch Hetchy Valley. Unfortunately, Hetch Hetchy Valley is currently under water because the good green people of San Francisco needed a place to stockpile drinking water.

John Muir opposed the plan to dam the Tuolumne River, until his death in 1914. "Dam Hetch Hetchy?" Muir said, "As well dam for water-tanks the people’s cathedrals and churches, for no holier temple has ever been consecrated by the heart of man." Muir was absolutely correct. Any environmentalist who lives in San Francisco and uses Hetch Hetchy reservoir water is a hypocrite. Although it would take many years to restore Hetch Hetchy to its former glory, many believe it can be done. We just need to rid ourselves of the O'Shaughnessy Dam.

I'm not much of an activist, but if you are interested in helping to make the world a more beautiful place, you can start by checking out http://www.hetchhetchy.org. Don't bother telling them I sent you. They don't know me.

Thoughts on Tackles and Other Criminals (2-3-2004)

Willie Sutton said the reason he robbed banks was because that was where the money was. He is no longer right. Today, the money is in politics and professional athletics. But that's not the only flaw in Willie's reasoning. The main reason people rob banks because they are lousy thieves. Bank robbers generally get caught, and when they do, they get tossed in the can for decades. That's stupid. If one is such a great thief, one has little need for money in the first place. One just steals what one needs, when one needs it, from less secure places.

But you have to be quite a bold thief to rob an NFL man like Keyshawn Johnson. Keyshawn was robbed at gunpoint last month in Berkeley. I guess this really isn't a great year for the Trojans in Berkeley. I wonder if he asked his attackers to just take his money and leave. Hmmm. I'll bet he's heard that line somewhere before.

Cincinnati Bengals tackle Levi Jones was arrested right after the Super Bowl for attempting to take a night stick from a police officer following a bar fight. This makes him a bigger Super Bowl loser than either of the Carolina Johns.

Panther kicker John Kasay's really bad final kickoff may have cost Carolina the game. It gave Tom Brady a better chance to redeem himself. But Brady should have lost any shot at the MVP award after tossing that awful interception when New England had a shot at putting the game away.

The sorriest John of the day was Carolina coach John Fox. If coaches were eligible, Fox would have won the MVP easily, because his disastrous decision to go for the two point conversion was the deciding factor in the game. If they kick the extra point, they wouldn't have had to go for two after the next score. Those two failures cost Carolina two points. Then New England wouldn't have gone for two after its last touchdown, because a five point lead is not much better than a four point lead. With proper play calling on extra points, the score would have been 31-28 near the end of the game, and Adam Vinatieri would have been kicking the game-tying field goal, rather than the game-winner.

New England Patriots linebacker Matt Chatham made a good case for the MVP by tackling the Super Bowl streaker. That took guts. I wouldn't have touched the guy. When Chatham retires, Reebok should use him to replace Terry Tate, the “office linebacker.”

Carolina covered the spread, which I thought would happen. However, the best bet turned out to be the over, which clinched victory long before Adam Vinatieri did.

I sure was sorry Matt Willig didn't block that last field goal attempt. But at least his penalty in the first half messed up Vinatieri's angle and cost the Pats 3 points.

One unintended consequence of the Janet Jackson flap is the increased interest in TiVo. Cool. Whatever it takes.

TiVo hosed me with a botched recording of Survivor All-Stars. I'm glad CBS replayed the first episode tonight. I'm also glad Tina went first. She was the least deserving of all prior winners. Colby should have won Survivor II, and Tina should have been voted out early, right after she barfed up her tripe and cost her tribe immunity.

Last year, it was "metrosexual." This year, "wardrobe malfunction" is looking like an early favorite for expression of the year. Richard Hatch seems to suffer from it regularly.

However, the phrase "biological changes over time," as a replacement for "evolution" should be a strong contender. Georgia schools are considering the move already. Excellent.

But not as excellent as this story from Kansas, where authorities are investigating a 33-year-old mother who posed as a 13-year-old boy to get handouts from local churches and schools. This story wouldn't have caught my eye but for the fact that the alleged perp's name is Birdie Jo Hoaks. Mrs. Hoaks is apparently an experienced hoax artist, having pulled off similar scams in Montana, Vermont, Alaska and California.

I guess we should be thankful her name isn't Birdie Jo Stabbing.

Yosemite Bowl Thoughts (2-2-2004)

A few days ago, I lamented how I wished I was in Yosemite taking pictures of Mule Deer. So this weekend, I went. Fortunately, very few people read my bjournal and even fewer are inspired by it. Consequently, the park was practically empty. Of course, I can always think, wishfully, that millions of people have read, and were inspired by, my words, but went to Kauai, Cancun, the Caymans or Sanibel Island instead.

We stayed at the Ahwahnee -- an historic concrete hotel that looks like a stone and log structure in the middle of Yosemite Valley. It has a very "old money" feel to it. It's the most expensive place I've ever lodged, but well worth it.

If you've never been to Yosemite, you are missing one of nature's finest offerings. In winter, many of the trails are closed, but several are open year-round. The Ahwahnee has a number of huge open rooms with massive fireplaces, tables and chairs everywhere, and rustic art all over the place. If I didn't have little kids to entertain, I could sit there for hours and just do nothing.

But I have kids to entertain, so we spent time having snowball fights and snow kicking fights, and building snowmen. Well, snow turtles, anyway. And we posed in front of www.halfdomecam.com's camera.

I love to photograph nature scenes, so Yosemite is a great place to bring my camera. But Ansel Adams I am not. I have no skills other than pointing and clicking. On Saturday, I saw a program at the Ansel Adams gallery about Adams and his photography and his experiences in the park. About half the time, I had no idea what they were talking about -- red filters and yellow filters and revolutionary printing paper and aperture settings, peppering their conversations with plenty of knowing acknowledgments, such as "of course," and "I wouldn't doubt it." I, meanwhile, came very close to disproving the adage that there is no such thing as a stupid question, by wondering (silently) "what sort of button on a digital camera do you press to get that half-lit, half-dark look?"

Looking over my auto insurance policy, I see that many "acts of God," such as lightning strikes and hail, are excluded. Bear damage, however, is covered. So if I ever get pelted with hail or my car gets struck by lightning, I'm going to be very tempted to smear peanut butter all over the car, inside and out, and park it in Yosemite for as long as it takes.

I attended mass at the least orthodox catholic church anywhere. There were all of 28 worshippers, and the priest practically begged everyone to donate $10. Frankly, it was a bargain, given that it costs $20 just to go inside the park. After mass, the priest stuffed the altar in a little storage room and the "church" went back to its original condition as a park theater.

Since I had court on Monday, I had to drive home Sunday afternoon, and so missed the Super Bowl. Listening to the game on the radio has its disadvantages. For example, the Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake moment wasn't nearly as interesting on audio. I don't know for sure if the boob flop was intentional, but I can tell you that it sounded very intentional.

I heard Timberlake claim that the incident was just a wardrobe malfunction, which caused me to wonder how much more of Jackson's clothing was supposed to come off originally. What is the NFL going to do next year to top this? Will they have Motley Crue perform, and have Tommy Lee or Vince Neil "accidentally" drop their penises into Pam Anderson or Janine?

I wonder if Britney Spears was watching. Was she jealous? If so, was she jealous of Timberlake, or Jackson?

On the news today, I finally saw the video. It makes me wonder, why didn't Michael use the same cosmetic surgeon that Janet used?

I used to play poker on GoldenPalace.com, but from now on, I'm taking my business to Party Poker, exclusively. I don't patronize businesses that use fat male streakers to advertise their business. Slender female streakers I can forgive, though.

Which reminds me, you should not confuse www.yosemitecam.com with www.halfdomecam.com, or you might get caught looking at Bambi the porn star instead of Bambi the deer.

You've been warned.