"A second time? why? man of ill star,
Facing the sunless dead and this joyless region?
Stand from the fosse, leave me my bloody bever
For soothsay."

And I stepped back,
And he stong with the blood, said then: "Odysseus
Shalt return through spiteful Neptune, over dark seas,
Lose all companions."

-- Ezra Pound: Canto I

"So here I am, in the middle way, having had twenty years�
Twenty years largely wasted, the years of l'entre deux guerres
Trying to learn to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope
To emulate�but there is no competition�
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions
That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business."

-- T. S. Eliot: "East Coker"

At the end of the exercise, Private Smitters was reduced in rank
and sent to sleep with the fishes by the rest of his unit.

James Lileks has a new site design and I�m afraid it is time, once again, for a Goudy Old Style intervention.

One of the problems with fontaholics is that, like bears, �once they get hooked on garbage, there�s no cure.�

Regular readers will know that I believe Lileks is one of the precious living treasures of the Net -- except for his, well, �fonting problem.� He as much as confesses to it with:

When you have thousands of fonts, and each speaks to you in a particular way, it�s hard to choose. To make it worse, no matter what font I choose, I have the most boring characters to work with: L and I.

I chose Gleeburger, a freeware font designed by someone named �Etherbrian.� His home page 404s, alas. It�s a font taken from a 1950s LA coffee shop. Much different from the old retro script font I was using -- which was League Night, by House -- but it�s about time I retired that one. It shows up everywhere. Pottery Barn Kids used it for Christmas. It�s on a Hello Kitty valentine Gnat got. I think I�m alone my gleeburgery for a while. -- Confession signed: LILEKS (James) The Bleat

The shameful elements are all contained in that brief cry for help: the "thousands" to choose from each �speaking to you;� the view of the self as a bunch of �boring characters;� the association with people of low degree such as ether abusers; the desire to escape into the nimbus of nostalgia in �a 1950s LA coffee shop;� the rejection of basic and decent Pottery Barn and Hello Kitty family values (previously his trademark); and the desire to abuse his own special highly toxic font in solitude.

I�m here to help. It is my hope that if people would download the following note to Lileks and send it to him at all known email boxes, he will, at the least, admit he has a problem with fontahol. That�s the first step. Let�s help Lileks take it.

[Click to enlarge]

Another fun product from: Gobler Toys

In today�s wild, wild world of new age magazine design, it is always difficult to tell whether or not a known and trusted magazine is trying to become cutting edge, or is merely sinking into functional illiteracy. So it is this month with the venerable Popular Science.

A two page �Buy Things from Our Advertisers� plea called �The Goods� endeavors to bring a little learning to a terrible feature. It attempts to blend what is cunningly called a �service feature� with the ancient Japanese art of Haiku. This is like trying to mate a sea lion with a butterfly. You know the outcome, but you still need to watch the instant replay in slo-mo.

As I know from brutal experience, the �service feature� is one most editors with a shred of integrity loathe. The essence of the feature is to hide the scurvy little deals of the advertising department under the white bridal gown of the editorial department. It is, in the fullest sense of the term, a �servicing of the reader� since it hides those items the ad salesmen promised their clients inside of a host of other items the editor probably feels are worthy of some note or comment.

In magazines that still pretend to have editorial integrity this is done with a nod and a wink. In the other 99.9% of magazine this is done up close and personal with no foreplay whatsoever. An editor�s only recourse, other than quitting, is to find some way to salvage their self-esteem.

Hence, in this case, haiku to the rescue.

Within �The Goods� ( A motley collection that might be wisely subtitled -- �More crap you really don�t need�) the editor�s need for creativity is gratified by a need to inflict the dreaded haiku on the reader. How many of PopSci�s readers know haiku from seppuku is probably in the low triple digits, but that never stopped an editor with a high concept for a low job.

Some of the gems from this effort include:

First, the inevitable way new version of the computer --
�A full computer
In your hand. Pen-based, hidden
Keyboard, Windows. Wow�

Second, the pitch for a Wurlitzer jukebox that only idiots can love--
�A classic reborn
For the digital age. Malt
Shop not included.�

Third, working in the word �cool� without which no service feature would be complete --
�Unlock your front door
Secret-agent-style with just
One fingertip. Cool.�

Fourth, the obligatory nod to �stuff that really matters� with the sardonic zinger --

�Our best and brightest
Design folding shoes. World peace
Will just have to wait.�

There are sixteen more examples, but I will spare you, as will the Popular Science website since it has not put this bit of poetry up for perusal.

As to the merit of these as haiku, we shall leave that for the ages. For now, it is nice to know that at Popular Science, when they send an editor out to do a service feature, they supply him with literary kneepads.

A friend writes to tell me to watch this spot: The Diary of a Blog Sceptic

The current entry holds much promise as does the blogs overarching motto:"Blogs, Social Software, Mobile Culture, Emergent Democracy, Collapsing Contexts, User-Centered Flux Capacitors -- Humbug!"

Where are you going, where have you been? Here's a preview on some of the subjects I plan to touch on in the days ahead. Feel free to suggest others.

Debunking the Myth, Part 1: Show me the Money!

Debunking the Myth, Part 2: Show me the Numbers; or, My High-School Newsletter Had More Readers!

Debunking the Myth, Part 3: Social Change, Revolution and the Mouse that Roared: Traditional Journalism, Real-time Blogging and the CalifornIrani Paradox; or, Food? Drink? Shelter? What they Really Need is Free WiFi!

Bloggers and the People Who Read Them Part 1; Hey, Look at my Shiny New Toy! Hey, Let's Have a Deep Conversation (about Polka-Dot Socks)! Hey, I'm Posting Live from PunditCon (and Here's the Moblog)!

Bloggers and the People Who Read Them Part 2: Birds of a Feather Flock Together, or A Blog for Every Opinion

Social Software, or I'm So Bored with Orkut--Wait, You Mean Nobody Invited You?

Biting the Hand that Blogs You: A Critical Look at Blogger, TypePad and LiveJournal

We can only hope the deeper promise of this blog is fulfilled.... as is the demand of one of the comments: " if you want to do something useful, come up with a non-stupid word for 'blog'."

And so say we all.

As we begin our second year here at American Digest, we looked about the charred wreckage of our first year and scrambled to find something that could be salvaged from the ruins.

Fortunately, there was one thing which, in the heat and the whirl of the last year, had completely escaped our notice.

We've become used to the deluge of awards and the kudos of our peers during the tumult of the great American realignment. Indeed, we've had to put in several extra trophy cases in the last year just to keep up with them. But we have to admit we did let one award slip by us a few months ago that we really should have mentioned.

It was on a lackluster day here at American Digest headquarters last April when we accepted a collect call from the Academy of LiveJournal Studies. Imagine our surprise when a husky voice informed us that we had been designated at the "Official WebLog of the Internet" by a unanimous vote of every website known to Google, including the cached copies.

Not being inclined to trumpet such an achievement, we let it go at the time and also declined to pay the $15,000 fee for a listing in all the major search engines that came with it.

Still, the memory of the brief flutter we felt on that day came back to us this afternoon and we thought, "Why the Hell Not?"

After all if Pentax, an otherwise also ran in the realms of photographic equipment can become "THE OFFICIAL DIGITAL CAMERA OF THE INTERNET" there's really no point in our hiding the fact that we have, for some time now, been "THE OFFICIAL WEBLOG OF THE INTERNET."

Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether".

With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.

The elegant Belmont Club has yet to comprehend the depths to which political ambition drives men.

With the announcement that nuclear nonproliferation lies in ruins, America has entered a period as critical as the Cuban Missile Crisis. The whole world, not simply the United States, may now be in the age of the nuclear car bomb. The speed with which the crisis has descended has left political parties without a set response to the nightmare which they had deluded themselves into thinking would never happen. They will in consequence, temporize the way actors who have walked into the wrong play have done, by repeating snatches from other parts, however ludicrous, however inappropriate. No one is ever truly ready to face a diagnosis of cancer.

One hopes that lingering in the minds of partisan politicians is the realization that this is real, that they can die in a nuclear fireball too. Or that some memory of fellowship or love country, left over from childhood, returns to make its claim. If any of that still lives, let it come forth now. The hour is here.

Wesley Clark Drops Out of Race

WASHINGTON - Wesley Clark, the novice politician with four-star military credentials, abandoned his presidential bid Tuesday after two third-places finishes in the South, the Associated Press has learned.

Pakistan Suspected Nuke Expert for Years

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan - Warnings from fellow scientists about the father of Pakistan's nuclear program and his ostentatious wealth raised suspicions Abdul Qadeer Khan was selling weapons technology abroad years before the government was compelled to take action against him, officials say.

Scientists who worked in Pakistan's covert program to build a nuclear deterrent against rival India had warned the government even before its first bomb test in 1998 that Khan was involved in suspect activity, a government official told The Associated Press, speaking Tuesday on condition of anonymity.

Fade up. Cue white piano chords.

Abdul Khan�s �Imagine�

Imagine I�m still at it,
It's easy if you try.
Selling hell for Allah,
That infidels may fry.
Imagine all your people
Blown away today...

Imagine there's no America,
It isn�t hard to do.
Nothing to hate or envy,
No Christians and no Jews.
Imagine all survivors
Praying to the East...

Imagine no Seattle.
I wonder if you dare?
No need for OS or lattes,
As our bomb ignites their air.
Imagine all the people
Turning into ash...

You may say I�m a schemer,
BUT I�M NOT THE ONLY ONE!
We hope some day to nuke you,
And the world will end as one.

Frontispiece for "Third Wish" -- A novel by Robert Fulghum

As a writer, Robert Fulghum knows a thing or two about telling a story. As an artist, he knows a thing or two about building a novel:

"The outside box is wooden - fine cedar - Japanese style. The inside of the box is lined with incense cedar - wonderful smell - and tanned leather - likewise a lovely smell. The wood is left natural - no stain or varnish."

To see the fascinating detail of how this novel-as-object was made look at: Robert Fulghum "Third Wish" -- a novel in a box.

I note that the official theme for this year's WEF Davos meeting at which Eason Jordan disgraced himself, his company, and his "profession" was:

"Taking Responsibility for Tough Choices"

Still no word from Jordan or the WEF on when the tape will be released.

Rosie, Roseanne, Rodan: It's Just That Simple

In a moment of candor Professor Glenn Reynolds issues a retraction and confession at Instapundit.com:

EUGENE VOLOKH WRITES on animals, perversion, Jerry Falwell, and Rosie O'Donnell.

UPDATE: Sorry - confused Roseanne Barr and Rosie O'Donnell earlier

Little wonder and no shame to that as we learn at: "Cloning Experiments Gone A Wry [sic]

"Neither Snow, Nor Sleet, Nor Numbing Repeated Defeat...."

:As you are watching the Washington and Michigan caucuses, keep reporting back on your visibility day (read the visibility day thread below if you want to be inspired about the Dean roots)..." -- Blog for America

We think the sign makes his roots pretty clear, thank you.

Filed under "Brilliant observations about the really irritating little things of modern life" --

"What's all this about a food product? We're a drywall concern, Jenkins."

"Exciting new product, sir : thin slabs of lightly-baked dry cracker meal marketed as a base for cheeses and the like, or to the spastic person who would rather appear gluttonous than drool in public."

"Interesting. Naked unglazed cracker meal? They must stale in a manner of minutes after exposure to air."

"Yes sir. Inedible."

"How do you plan to package such a fragile product?"

"Well sir, we think the obvious way to go is a tough, form-fitting ripstop plastic sleeve with a false seam down one side."

"Yes, yes... name the product Cracker Meal Everywhere. No, not enough sex appeal... Crumbs In Your Hair... no, you could never get a pun like that over."

"Saltines sir. The name preserves the surprise, and sets up a false expectation of flavor."

"Excellent. Slaughter those two baby goats and begin production immediately. Hail Satan!"

"Hail Satan!"

From-- Genius at work

On Mars, nothing can go wrong,
...go wrong ...go wrong...

Click for Larger Image

Exhibition Information and Background at New York Life.

1. "Read my lips: no new wardrobe malfunctions."
0. "If I could get Al Gore to endorse me, I could get off
this damn bus. The 3-year old is driving me nuts."

Democratic presidential candidate John Edwards took his turn at late-night comedy Wednesday in hopes of building on his success in winning the South Carolina primary. Edwards taped an appearance on CBS' "Late Show with David Letterman" in which he presented the Top 10 list.

Also known as "The Bit They Do When They Decide It's a Good Day to Die"

The last Democrat to deliver a Top 10 list was [Howard the Duck], who did so Jan. 22 after a much-ridiculed concession speech in Iowa.

Check....

Rep. Dick Gephardt, of Missouri, read his Top 10 list a week before his poor showing in Iowa. After losing Jan. 19, Gephardt abandoned his presidential bid.

....and DOUBLE-check

From: The Union Leader

In a videotape released to the media, Janet Jackson
apologized for the breast-baring incident.

Man dies after marrying dog for luck

A Nepalese man has died three days after marrying a dog in the hope it would bring him good luck.

Phulram Chaudhary died after he had tied the knot with the dog, reports daily Gorkhapatra.

The 75-year-old, from Durgauli in Kailali district, was reportedly followed a practice prevalant in the Tharu community which believes that an old man who regrows teeth must take a dog as a bride

The wedding was attended by the man's son and other relatives

The paper said: "He thought the marriage would avert a great misfortune at a later stage of life but he died within a few days."
-- Ananova

The sexual orientation of the dog was withheld by the Supreme Court of Nepal pending suttee.

Back in early November, I wrote a short item entitled "More Mush from the Wimp:"

�MORE MUSH FROM THE WIMP�� was the famous headline from the Boston Globe mistakenly left on a story about Jimmy Carter�s views while he was president. Evidently some typesetter who didn't share Carter's enthusiasms slugged it in while waiting for the real head to come down from editorial. It never made it and the story ran with a more accurate if less polite headline.

We've come a long way since then. Now we don't have to wait for the big media to filter the candidates views to us. No. With the blight of online campaign blogging we can cut right through the media filters and reap the spew of the various presidential wannabes right from the source! Why we can read their very thoughts as their very hands type them in to the blog.

Yes, we can get our mush straight from the wimp.

At the time, I was busy excoriating the phoney "candidate blogs" supposedly keyboarded by the candidate himself or someone close to him or her.

Little did I realize that it was only a matter of time before the original Mush Wimp would get in the game. Why? I'd don't know. I shouda seen it coming.

Alas, today, the great era of blogdom came to an end more sure and certain than the implosion of Howard the Duck's online minions. Yes, it is over. Pack it in. Scrub the servers. Move along. Nothing to see here but Mush from the Wimp.

Jimmy Carter, the ex-President who can never seem to learn to just shut up and sit down, has a blog.

Well, he would have a blog if he was certain what to call it. The current title reads, I kid you not:

"Web Logs (Blogs) from West Africa: President Carter's Reflections"

Sigh. I mourn for this once bright and promising medium. I always knew it would survive the hype of Howard the Duck, but how, I ask you, can blogging hope to survive Jimmy Carter's "Reflections?"

Monday, Feb. 2, 2004: Togo

This marked the first full day of our West African journey, made possible by traveling in the "magic carpet" Gulfstream owned by our Trustee Dick Blum. In addition to him, Dr. John Hardman, our son Jeffrey, and Kathy Cade were on the plane. After a midnight refueling stop in Cape Verde, where we were met and briefed by the U.S. Ambassador, we arrived early this morning in Lome, Togo's capital city. We received a warm greeting from the Prime Minister, U.S. Ambassador Gregory Engle, our Carter Center colleagues, and school children bearing flowers. On our drive from the airport to the hotel, we noticed signs that the economy has deteriorated since our last visit ten years ago. In fact, annual per capita income has dropped from $600 to $293.

In fact, how can Togo survive this Carter mission? The last one obviously cost each capita in Togo about $307 in annual income. By the time the Carters leave, if the past is any clue, everybody in Togo will owe the rest of the world ten bucks a year just for living.

Click to Read

Valdis Krebs at Political Patterns on the WWW has been making node maps of book buying habits to the Left and Right for over a year. The latest node map is fascinating to look at and even more interesting to ponder. Krebs key observation:

"It appears that the many of the books have changed from last year but the pattern is the same. Two distinct clusters, with dense internal ties have emerged. These political books are preaching to the converted! This year we find more bridges between the clusters. Yet, this network of 67 books is dependent on just 2 nodes to remain connected -- Sleeping with the Devil and Bush at War."

Fascinating and interesting because it tells us what the intelligensia of America may be thinking politically. It also underscores the great political divide of American minds at this time in history. But, alas, it only looks at books and, as much as I love books, I've spent enough time in the book business to know to a fare-thee-well, that book buyers and readers are a tiny jot of the population.

Knowing that book buyers tend to read books that reinforce their point of view isn't too illuminating. That's obvious to any constant reader.

What would be more interesting would be if we could know just how influential these book buyers were in aggregate. We assume that, because they are mainly part of the 20% of the text-driven part of the population that they enjoy no little influence in their spheres and careers.

The real question for 2004 is: Can they nominate and elect a President? Short form, especially in light of the recent crash and burn of the Internet Poltical Intellectuals, is probably not. In politics, nobody really likes a know-it-all -- at least not one who is so willing to share that he knows it all.

What, I believe, this mind-map actually shows is the shape of the Great Realignment that is taking place in American Politics. Not the vast bulk turning beneath the surface of the Center, but the two tips of the iceberg. And since there seem to be more books on the blue side, that would be the one tilting towards the cold cruel sea.

We note this tragic headline from that garden spot of the globe, Mina, Saudi Arabia :244 Muslims killed in Saudi' stoning the devil' stampede

MINA, Saudi Arabia -- At least 244 persons were trampled to death and hundreds were hurt yesterday under a crush of worshippers in one of the deadliest disasters during the annual Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca in Saudi Arabia.
����The stampede occurred during the stoning of the devil, an emotional and notoriously perilous hajj ritual. Pilgrims frantically throw rocks, shout insults or hurl their shoes at three stone pillars -- acts that are supposed to demonstrate deep disdain for Satan.

Someone not completely convinced that what we are dealing with here is "A Religion of Peace and Compassion" might point out that, in general, when the faithful keep to this sort of stoning only one person dies.

Perhaps the deeper meaning in this tragic event is: "One woman, okay, but don't mess with Satan's stones."

Donald Sensing is being sensible again at One Hand Clapping with his terse observation that do-good organizations tend to outlive the good they do and end up just "protecting their phoney-baloney jobs."

Earlier today we grabbed a document listing the kind of government pork that is doled out to non-profits in the name of the greater good. You might want to glance at it. It's right here. I found a few things I approved of. Everyone will. But there are hundreds and hundreds of grants being pumped out to... well to do-gooders who have run out of good to do. Yup, as Sensing sensibly says:

It's not mission creep, it's the "Governor LePetomaine syndrome"

In Mel Brooks' classic western comedy, Blazing Saddles, Brooks plays the corrupt western Governor William J. LePetomaine.

When a report reaches him that a town faces a crisis, LePetomaine turns to his attorney general, Hedley Lamarr (Harvey Korman) and exclaims,
"We've got to do something to save our phony-baloney jobs!"

The need to justify a job's existence is what I call the "Governor LePetomaine syndrome." It applies to organizations also. Say, the Southern Poverty Law Center:
"The Montgomery, Ala.-based SPLC made a name for itself chasing Klansmen and militias. Now, it focuses on serving diabetic prison inmates, 10 commandment-toting judges and writing movie reviews. [via Instapundit]"

Humm, it's only a question of time before someone starts a non-profit dedicated to understanding and limiting "The LePetomaine Syndrome." That's a group that need never go out of business.

It seems like only yesterday.... in fact it was yesterday that we were wondering if THIS could be a metaphor for The Meaning of Life. But now we know the secret subtext of the Yeti batting the Penguin for distance. How could we have been so blind?

This mysterious web page which has brought so many hours of senseless but pleasurable fritter to so many millions is actually, yes, a CRY FOR HELP from our beloved Tux, the Linux Penguin.

Yes, it came to me like a diamond bullet through the center of my skull (or an acid flashback), that what we are seeing when we see the Yeti, the White Ape, the *ALBINO* snowman whack the "Anonymous Penguin" is a message from somewhere deep within the corporate labyrinth that is IBM. The message? That Tux is going to be sent to sleep with the Taco Bell chihuahua.

Think about it. Since IBM started making this big deal about being "Open," have you seen beak or feather of Tux? You have not. Instead, you've seen only the silent adventures of a strangely mute nordic Albino of dubious gender coupled only with the ominous promise that "Linux is Growing."

The tout of "open software" is one thing when it is sung by the likes of Richard Stallman, quite another when it becomes a corporate message at the Superbowl.

It's clear that the old fishbait-and-switcheroo of the corporate marketing gill-netters at IBM are out to deep-six Tux, and that some programmer, some Tux mole within IBM is trying to get the word out.

Do you doubt it? Here are some screen grabs from this evening's email to me after I had run a search deep into the root of IBM's Linux web farm. They came in with the sender marked as "MAILER-DAEMON@aol.com." I wasn't fooled. I opened them. And just before my laptop melted in my lap, the attachments told "The Tale of Tux:

Attachment 1:

Attachment 2:

Attachment 3:

This... THIS... is the shocking inner meaning behind all this penguin bashing that's been going on. I leave it to those with more skill at hacking than I to save the little penguin from his fate.

Remember: If IBM can replace Tux, it is only a question of time before it reformats your hard drive. That which is open can always be closed.

So, tell me again about how everyone, everywhere hates this arrogant, terrible, violent, imperialistic, overbearing country.

"Got a '59 Buick to take them there..."

A group of Cubans sails toward the Florida Straits on a modified 1959 Buick Tuesday February 3, 2004. The pilots were the same two men who tried to sail a converted 1951 Chevy flatbed truck to the U.S. last year. Nine other Cubans, including wives and children, were intercepted by the U.S Coast Guard on Tuesday Feb. 3, 2004. (AP Photo/CBS4, HO)

Everywhere around the world
They're coming to America.
Everytime that flag's unfurled,
They're coming to America.
Got a dream to take them there,
They're coming to America.
Got a dream they come to share,
They're coming to America.
They're coming to America.
-- Neil Diamond-America

Now you might think these refugees from a Communist dictatorship are crazy to try and get in this way, but do you have any idea what a cherry '59 Buick is worth in Florida, once you dry it out?

You'll note they tried it before with a flatbed Chevy truck. Bad idea. No resale value.

Eyewitness account of the Linux monopoly trial
By: Robin Miller

Washington DC, January 31, 2014 -- Riot police have finally managed to beat back the milling throng of displaced Visual Basic programmers who attacked the courthouse after Judge Cotter Kathelly announced that Linux was not an illegal monopoly and that neither Linus Torvalds nor his company, Linux Development, Inc, owed damages to former employees and shareholders of now-bankrupt Microsoft or to any of its business partners.

Protestors have been a daily feature of this trial since it started early last year. A bald, bearded man wearing a poncho who identifies himself only as "Balls," but who some say is really former Microsoft CEO Steve Ballmer has been fingered by police as the ringleader, but so far their efforts to capture him have been fruitless. His appearances have been brief, and he has melted back into the crowd and disappeared after each one, while thousands of demonstrators carrying signs with "Flying Windows" logos on them have blocked police whenever they tried to pursue the fleeing figure.

Inside the courthouse, a greying Torvalds has been like the calm point in the center of a roiling whirlpool, allowing his poker face to show emotion only when making one of his famous quips, several of which have brought the trial to a halt while Judge Kathelly recovered his composure and laughter from others in the courtroom -- including from the plaintiffs' table -- died down....

[Continued at: NewsForge | Eyewitness account of the Linux monopoly trial]

... for The Meaning of Life?

Priceline is Back!

But with a, er. "new look."

So click, Grasshopper, and be enlightened.

Skippy -- In His Younger Days Before Dementia

The bizarre operating system of eBay continues to toss up bizarre items at stranger terms. Witness this long and grinding battle for "eBay item 237479800 -- (Ends Dec-31-30 00:00:00 PST)" also know as the quest to own
Skippy's Brain in a Jar and Head on a Pike.

Current bid:
US $99,999,999.00

Time left:
9827 days 12 hours
11309-day listing
Ends Dec-31-30 00:00:00 PST

On Sunday the 29th of February, I will be showing New York Life: Images After the Fall, an exhibition of photographs at Harlow's Gallery in Laguna Beach, California. The opening reception will be held from 12 noon to 5. All are welcome to attend. Clicking on the New York Life link above will take you to the web site for the show with the location, some background and sample images. Those with fast connections and a need to see really big images can look Here.

The exhibition itself will run through March. It will be a small selection from the over 10,000 photographs I took of New York City in 2002. My reasons and rationale for such obsessive behavior are contained within the statement below drawn from the exhibition:

"When a man has lived a long time with a city and then decided to leave her, it seems best to make a record before departing. Otherwise, for all the years he has lived with her, all he will have left will be the shards of moments and not the mosaic complete.

The archives he retains will, invariably, be merely personal -- clippings from the local papers, a box of business cards, filched matchbooks, a sheaf of menus, random pay stubs, a well-thumbed Rolodex, and a few albums filled with pictures of friends and acquaintances remembered with varying degrees of accuracy. And his snapshots.

They will be snapshots of his personal celebrations; the birthdays, anniversaries, shared summer houses, days in the park and nights on the town. He�ll be in some of them. Friends will proliferate in others. And the city will persist, implied, either in the background or intruding in the middle distance; like the air, unnoticed until absent. When you leave her, this is what you will carry away. It will fit in a medium-sized cardboard box. We�ve all packed this box. Mine was labeled, �New York.�

Your memory of the city will fade long before the snapshots in the box. True, they fade slowly -- pushed into the mist by other days and other scenes -- but fade they do. And so you will find yourself pretending you know what she looked like, and how you felt, when you lived with her through all those white nights and bright days.

But it will be a lie; one that will grow more elaborate and comfortable as the distance dissolves the experience. In time, you won�t even recognize it as a lie. Just as an old love remembered anew can appear in warmer tones than the last days that drove you apart, so too a city can rise in radiance as the memory, always protective of the self, tints in some false rose of dawn or the sham melancholy of twilight.

Knowing this, I resolved to record her as I knew her without sham or falsity.

Beginning in early May of 2002 and ending at around ten in the evening of November 9, 2002, I kept a detailed photographic record of what we were like and how we lived in New York in that shaky first year of our unsought new era. During those months I took over 10,000 shots. Of these I destroyed most. In the end, I kept about 3,000 that struck me as worth preserving for one reason or another.

To show you, to make you see what I saw during my walks around the city in those months, would take a thousand images and an iron constitution. Instead here are a few. I�ve selected them because they seem, in aggregate, to give a reasonable impression of my last days in New York, the city I had lived in and loved for the better part of 30 years.

It is said that �There are eight million stories in the naked city,� but that�s another lie. There are, if you could read the secret hearts of New Yorkers, eight million stories squared in that city. In these rooms is a very short version of just one of them.

The Middle East in 2001 A. D.
Red indicates those countries hostile towards the United States in word or in deed.
White indicates those countries friendly to or neutral toward the United States.

The Middle East in 2004 A. D.
Red indicates those countries hostile towards the United States in word or in deed.
White indicates those countries friendly to or neutral toward the United States.

______________
Courtesy of: Cox & Forkum

In a moment like this, one must not focus for long on the negative. I am reminded of the words of the American hymn "Hail Columbia" by Joseph Hopkinson:
Let independence be our boast,
Ever mindful what it cost;
Ever grateful for the prize,
Let its altar reach the skies.
We stand wounded, but not defeated. One day, the flags our men and women carried with them into space will fly on the surface of Mars. And on that day, we will once again Hail Columbia.

-- Nicholas Provenzo

I'm bringing this back because the makeover seems to be working.

There's a hell of a nice universe next door. Let's go."

For the first time in decades, the possibility of going to Mars has been brought forward and placed on the table for discussion and debate. I�ve been carrying on a conversation with a friend over the past few weeks about the immediate ramifications of this, the worst of which is, to my mind the abandonment of the Hubble.

But the Hubble issue and others that have swirled around the Mars gambit in the last few weeks are merely political and transitory; of no more moment, really, than a primary election in a dinky state. There are larger issues that Mars illuminates.

Those issues came to mind this morning when an email from the friend mentioned above said:

�....if, indeed, life and intelligent life is as prevalent as we think it should be, why aren't we (a) intercepting millions of alien broadcasts in the electromagnetic spectrum, and (b) positively inundated with alien landings?

One reason that is disturbing in a deep way is that we're all wrong, and we're all alone....What if, in all those billions of galaxies, we're it. Gives me the shivers.

....Look at us, mankind. We've been given the gift of intelligence, and the ability to expand our ecosystem out into space, where, with some significant but not insurmountable effort, we could spread like a proverbial virus.

But what do we do? Like dung beetles on the last bolus of shit, we cling harder and harder to the Earth, multiplying and strangling it. Resources which could go to expansion, instead go to more weapons to ensure that we have firm control over our little ball of nutrients, all the while depleting it and making it more uninhabitable. Of course, unlike the dung beetles, there's no elephant waiting around to drop us another one in the foreseeable future.

I think we've misinterpreted the slogan "Earth First." Perhaps it really means "First stop of many on the line".

Are we alone and will we, in the vernacular, �blow it.� I think the answer to the latter question is no. As for the former, well....

For quite a few years now, I�ve been a bit unpopular when I suggest that we need to consider the fact that we might, indeed, be all alone; that we might be a fluke or a seed or simply something of no purpose struggling to no avail and heading towards an ignominious ending in a backwater of a third-rate galaxy.

There is currently no real evidence that sentient life 1) exists elsewhere in abundant quantities or 2) exists but is rare. If intelligent life were at all common the electromagnetic spectrum should be awash in signals. And while the old saw �Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence� tugs at me, the phrase �No information is no information� also comes into play.

Another possibility is that �What we have here is a failure to communicate.� This would suppose that the electromagnetic spectrum is simply not the means by which communication between Extraterrestrial Civilizations (ETC) happens and something else that we are too primitive to understand is being used. We�ve certainly imagined such things just as we�ve imagined �Faster Than Light� drives. But so far these are devices that merely help our science fiction narratives along. It would be boring indeed to have to dunk around the same old solar system forever using chemical rockets. Pushing off to the stars in them would give new meaning to the phrase �slow boat to China.�

Arthur C. Clarke reminds us that �Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.� I�d bend that around to say that �Any proposition asserting the existence of ETC is indistinguishable from religion.�

I say �religion� for two reasons. The first is that, regardless of the many arguments advanced for it, there is still no proof that any ETC exist and thus it is purely a matter of faith.

The second reason that the ETC assertion is religious in nature is that technotronic types need to believe it because they need, in their lives, something that is worthy of belief beyond mentation and �purposeless matter hovering in the dark.� Any specific religion can be denied but need to believe in something seems to be hard wired into humanity.

One of the many curses of �free will� is that it can remove, at will, God from the equation of the universe. But removing God does not remove the need to believe. The result is a host of �secular faiths� of which the assertion of �Intelligent Life Is Everywhere� (ILIE) is central to the catechism. No God means that Mind is God, no Soul means that Self is Soul. When the Kingdom of Heaven that is within is denied, then the Kingdom of Heaven must be lurking in, well,

Continued...

To nobody's surprise, least of all MoveOn and PETA, CBS blew off their pleas to be included in the today's Ad Superbowl that will be interrupted from time to time with something resembling a football game. The New York Times reported that, commenting on the decision:

Wes Boyd, a founder of MoveOn.org, told The Associated Press that he had no evidence that the ad was rejected because it was anti-Bush, he said, "I worry that it's about ideology."

Poor fretful man. Of course it is about the ideology. And controversial ideologies are clearly proscribed by CBS' long-standing policy. Bush is either very good or very bad, depending. Hence, controversy. But this move by MoveOn was never about actually getting the ad on the tube, it was a cynical effort to get the ad talked about when it DIDN'T get on the tube. Media is always happy to oblige since it clearly thinks that news = something that didn't happen.

In the same vein, the mouth-droolers at PETA pushed their little eating meat= impotence screed forward for the press pickup. They never believed they'd have to write a check. That way they could be outraged on the cheap;

A spokeswoman for PETA, Lisa Lange, told The Associated Press that CBS's policy was inconsistent, because she had seen ads condemning smoking and drunken driving on past Super Bowl telecasts.

Since Ms. Lange obviously suffers from the brain drain that occurs when empathy completely replaces sanity, let me help her out. Lisa, drunken driving is bad. No controversy there except perhaps in New Orleans. Smoking? Bad. Not a lot of disagreement there either. But even you have to know that the jury is still out on meat eating at every McDonalds in the land. Okay? Thanks. Now go cuddle a bunny to death.

CBS's Martin Franks is the only one in this story that's sane.

Antidrug abuse or antismoking ads, on the other hand, he said, do not wade into such controversial waters. "If you can find somebody responsible who is for drug abuse," Mr. Franks said, "or someone responsible who is for teenagers seeking to smoke, then it would be a credible rebuttal of our policy. I don't know anybody who does."

Asked about last year's drug policy advertisement that linked drug sales to international terrorism, Mr. Franks said, "Is it an absolutely perfect system? Absolutely not. On the other hand, the MoveOn.org ad wasn't even close. I didn't need to rewind that one in the VCR."

Perhaps MoveOn will attempt to hit up Franks for a $1.00 rewind fee when he ships the tape back.

-- From Ad Rejections by CBS Raise Policy Questions

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ZZMike: "One of these day's I'll join a Wal-Mart protest. I'll carry a sign reading "Down With Low Prices!!! Down with Wide Selections!!!" -- AMERICAN DIGEST: Comment on The Enduring Greatness of Walmart

A classic Daphne truth-telling. Appropriate for today:

I find myself increasingly repulsed by Muslim practices and beliefs. Middle Eastern, African, Asian, American, the country of origin makes no difference. Women and children treated as chattel, genital mutilation, child brides, honor killings, culturally accepted pedophilia, the black drapes and head coverings, no rights, no votes, little to non-existent educational opportunities, no voice, no choices, no recourse. Persecution of homosexuals. Imprisonment, stoning and whipping for morality crimes. Lack of free speech. The foul treatment of non-Muslims in Islamic countries. The demented hatred of Jews. Sharia Law. Wahhabism. Madrasas. Blind obedience to Mullahs. Praying towards Mecca -- a place on the map few will ever see. Individuality is shut down, originality and freedom of the mind discouraged. Islam pisses on human talents that fall outside the dark walls of its faith. Hell, I even dislike their dislike of dogs. -- Scheherazade Needs A New Tale « Jaded Haven

The original novel is mostly mistaught in our universities these days, a

s professors twist Mary Shelley’s themes—and even turn them upside down—to endorse this or that modern attitude or political viewpoint. Of the several reasons why the book is a classic, perhaps the most important is the portrayal of Victor Frankenstein as a compassionate utopian destroyed by hubris. The history of humanity is soaked in blood precisely because we throw ourselves into the pursuit of one utopia after another, determined to perfect this world that cannot be perfected.

Of all centuries, the 20th was the bloodiest because of Hitler’s National Socialism, Lenin’s and Stalin’s and Mao’s and Pol Pot’s and Castro’s versions of Communism; as many as 200 million were murdered or killed in war because of these utopian schemes. Victor Frankenstein, utopian of the first order, hoped to perfect God’s creation, to reanimate the deceased and thus defeat death, and his project could result only in calamity, for it was against the natural law and common sense.

Via KA-CHING!

The Russians think he’s a Putz.

The French think he’s rude. The Germans want him to stop spending. The Indians want him to mix his nose out of their environmental business. The North Koreans think he’s a joke. The Iranians won’t acknowledge his calls. And the British can’t even come up with a comprehensive opinion of him.

As for the Chinese, he’s too frightened to even glance their way. -- Editorial: I Told You So – Yes I Did - Galganov.com

Lawrence Auster had Johnson's number 2 years ago:

"Basically LGF seems to consist of Charles Johnson consigning people to oblivion on the basis of no facts and no arguments, followed by Johnson's followers crying, "Yes, Charles, yes! LGF is the greatest website! I'm so proud to be at LGF!", along with various other grunts and one-line ejaculations that convey no intelligible ideas but only assent. So there is the marginalization of the Outsider by the Leader, and the mindless banding together of followers around the Leader based on such marginalization of the Outsider. Sound familiar? I can't say I have ever seen anything remotely resembling this kind of behavior at Brussels Journal. I have, however, seen it in abundance every time I've read "Little Green Footballs" in the few days that I've been perusing the site. Take a look at the current LGF thread, "The Mask Comes Off," and see the mindless, mob quality of it." -- The method of Charles Johnson

Dalton Trumbo wore very cool hats.

Dalton Trumbo may have been a good screen-writer. Dalton Trumbo may have been screwed by HUAC. Dalton Trumbo may still be a Hollywood darling and the subject of a recent hagiographic offering by PBS. But I am here to tell you that Dalton Trumbo was also a Communist acolyte of Joseph Stalin, a denier of the gulag, and a maligner of truth-tellers like Koestler and Kravchenko. He was in short a useful idiot member of the American Communist Party. -- Gladly Lerne, Gladly Teche: Inbound, from the Internet

Al Gore as our soon-to-be, first carbon billionaire.

Accounts included both his earlier and contemporary angry denials that he was greedy, or had used his vast network of government contacts to influence public loans, contracts, and regulations, in parlaying a 2001 net worth of $2 million apparently into a green empire of several hundred million....

To distill Gorism is to live in a 1,000 sq. ft. solar house, bike to work, and take the train on long distances; but to promote Gorism, one lives in a mansion, jets on private planes, and is chauffeured from airport to conference center—a rather heavy carbon footprint indeed. I mention that because this week he has insisted that he only invested in what he believes in and is thus not a hypocrite—sort of like a 1990s Fannie or Freddie director saying he is only taking mega-bonuses because he believes in public support for housing.

Works and Days » The Discreet Charm of the Left-wing Plutocracy

Worth listening to. Just click play and listen in the background. You'll come back to the foreground often.

At their Monday night poker game in hell, I’ll bet Stalin, Hitler and Mao are kicking themselves: “ ‘It’s about leaving a better planet to our children?’ Why didn’t I think of that?” This is Two-Ply Totalitarianism—no jackboots, no goose steps, just soft and gentle all the way. Nevertheless, occasionally the mask drops and the totalitarian underpinnings become explicit. Take Elizabeth May’s latest promotional poster: “Your parents f*cked up the planet. It’s time to do something about it. Live Green. Vote Green.” As Saskatchewan blogger Kate McMillan pointed out, the tactic of “convincing youth to reject their parents in favour of The Party” is a time-honoured tradition. -- Gullible eager-beaver planet savers - Mark Steyn - Macleans.ca

"Yes, Sir; and from what I have heard of him, one would not wish to sacrifice himself to such a man. If he must always have somebody to drink with him, he should buy a slave, and then he would be sure to have it. They who submit to drink as another pleases, make themselves his slaves."

Paging Newt Gingrich.

The Tea Party world

is still that of genuinely funny things -- not the sour mordancy of Letterman; it is still one of basic fears and simple joys, of aching feet and a welcome ice-cream soda at the end of the day. Some people spend their whole lives trying to get away from it; to forget the memory of people sitting around a sunny porch eating peanuts, to try with various expensive unguents to wash the smell of new-mown grass and two stroke gasoline fumes from their hair. That is what "success" all too often means in certain circles. That and a line of white powder across a table. In the end they may arrive at a palace of chrome and glass, all cold air and ice at some dizzying height above the world. But they must always remember, or forget at their peril, that it is all upborne by truth and human love. -- Belmont Club » Bows and Flows

If you've ever heard the sound

of the old inboard motors in these vintage wooden boats you'll know what I mean when I say heads all over the marina snapped 'round when the twin Chrysler Hemi V-8's caught a spark and roared to life. Idling out and clearing the end of the marina, there was a small voice on one shoulder telling me to start slow and take it easy as the old power plants probably hadn't been run hard in who knows how long. On the other shoulder however was the slightly more insistent voice of "Old Vatted Demerara Rum" saying "Pour the coals to her!" Throwing caution to the wind, I pushed the throttles forward as far as they would go and the old wooden boat surged out of the water and was at top speed as I passed the last dock in the marina and burst into the open water of Lake Washington.

When something of a mechanical nature goes sideways on a boat running at speed.... -- The Demon Rum: « WESTSOUND MODERN

"When was the last time you sat on a couch upside down and looked about the house? Kids do that all the time, and I have done it again and thought, "Whoa - I seriously need to vacuum." And "So that's where that [object/thing] went." -- Mikey commenting on Side-Lines: One of the Burning Questions of Life

What happens next?

The President took a lot of the nation's hopes as political capital into the Big Casino. Now, after sitting at the tables for 9 months, there's only a small pile left of what was once a mountain of chips. Is the next hand going to win him big? Is he going to double down again? Or get up and catch a cab home, in case what's left in his pocket will cover it. Or will he write out a check on the basis of the family farm and spin the wheel of fortune again on the basis of his faith in the fundamental goodness of America's enemies? Order another round of drinks for everybody on the house? Go watch a play on Broadway and keep being Diamond Jim long after all the real diamonds have been hocked for paste? Is there a point where betting on hope means stuck on stupid? -- Belmont Club ｻ Another turn of the wheel

Exurban Jon asks:

With all the advances in scientific knowledge why has no one designed a manlier Kleenex box?

Here's a burning question I was reminded of by the video: do you eat your candy corn in sections? And, if so, do you consider the top to be the yellow part or the white part? I've always seen the little white triangle as the "foot" of the candy corn, but I learned when I designed my costume years ago that most people see it the other way. -- neo-neocon » Blog Archive » Get ready for Candy Corn Day

“Barack Obama is the most powerful writer since Julius Caesar.” — Rocco Landesman, President Obama’s handpicked chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts -- via KA-CHING!

"It takes no courage for an rich, unbelieving “artist” to piss on Christ. After all, that’s been done before. And Jesus voluntarily submitted himself to much worse, which means nothing an “artist” does to any image of Christ can do anything but reflect on the spiritual poverty of the “artist,” himself. For an “artist” to use Jesus for a cheap joke is about as “courageous” and “bold” as making a joke about George W. Bush before an audience of like-thinkers; it takes no courage at all.

"But for an “artist” to make an identical satirical “joke” on Obama and his adorers? That would take great courage. That would be bold, and daring. And it would speak reassuring volumes about free speech in America.

"I would not want to see it. I would not want to see the image of any American President so ill-used; he’s my president, too.

"But if Larry David could see the humor in pissing on Christ and the excesses of Catholic piety, surely he must see the humor in pissing on Obama, and the excesses of Obama worship?

"Haha. It’s all so funny, isn’t it? Are you laughing? Are you not entertained?" -- via The Anchoress | A First Things Blog

@ KA-CHING!

It's the word of the day @

Urban Dictionary A very deep sleep where you are unable to hear telephones, text messages, and even the Air Force. Named to honor the two fine pilots from Northwest Airlines and there little "in flight snooze"

A measure of the absence of any realistic self-appraisal is

Ms. McCain's failure to grasp that her prominence as a "writer," rather than as a Paris Hilton-style reality show performer, is owed first to her famous father, and second, to the fact that this is the Age of the Idiot.

Idiots have come into their own in a big way, courtesy of depraved consumers, and complicit TV producers and publishers, of pixel and paper alike. The duller you are and the louder you crow in contemporary America, the better you do. Clearly, Meghan McCain is not working with much ─ and is eminently qualified to dim debate in the Age of the Idiot. A familial predisposition, it would seem. John McCain finished 894th out of 899 at the Naval Academy and lost five jets. As IQ ace Steve Sailer once quipped, "To lose one plane over Vietnam may be regarded as a heroic tragedy; to lose five planes here and there looks like carelessness." -- By ILANA MERCER

So, okay, it's war. I get it.

The next year, I get a bunch of guys from Pixar to come over and we make the most amazing Halloween lawn you've ever seen, with shitloads of stupid coffins and ghosts and a skeleton playing the piano. We have music, and lights, the whole works. Meanwhile, Larry comes over and brings a bunch of Navy SEAL type guys that he knows. In addition to all the stupid Halloween decorations, we rig up water cannons on the perimeter of the yard and up in the trees, loaded with a mixture of water, bleach and gasoline. We plant IEDs in the lawn, loaded with rock salt, and at each corner we put a dispenser that blasts pepper gel. We lay exposed wires across the lawn carrying enough current to knock you out, but not kill you. Then we put on our black commando outfits, and blacken our faces, and we wait. -- The Secret Diary of Steve Jobs

Watching this will be either the funniest or most disgusting 2-minutes of your day.

Iowahawk breaks tradition and endorses Douglas Hoffman, the Conservative Party candidate for the US Congress in New York's 23rd district. Why? Because....

"Canuck reader Maryann Crabtree forwards this photo of the candidate posing proudly in front of his Two Lane Blacktop - worthy 1955 Chevy 210 2-door sedan. Note missing rear bumper. Note radiused rear wheel well. Note nose-up gasser stance. Note the all-bidness custom paint, which appears to be a blend of Hugger Orange and Riverside Red. An educated guess tells me that lurking under the hood is a high winding destroked 301 small block, mating a 2-bolt main 327 with a 283 crank, with a set of Doug Thorley or Hooker headers huffing through glass packs. White ball Hurst shifter atop a Muncie 4-speed, natch. Visual cues indicate this photo was taken circa 1969; thus, while his Congressional cohort was tripping on brown acid in the mud at Max Yasgur's farm, Mr. Hoffman was gearslamming down the quarter mile at Fulton Speedway. (via iowahawk: Iowahawk Endorses ) @ Van der Leun

If you've ever seen the History Channel series Ax Men,

filmed in and around these counties, understand that the foul mouthed, hot tempered, illiterate rednecks featured on this show are the creme de la creme of mossback society. Supported mostly by what is left of the logging industry in these parts, they live largely in dilapidated singlewides surrounded by clearcut woodlands and collections of the rusted remains of every car, truck, motor, transmission, and assorted piece of machinery or scrap metal that have been handed down through generations from father to son. To a city boy like I was at the time, they were suspect in every way. Which leads me to the proverbial hole in the donut of this tale. -- WESTSOUND MODERN

KaChing!

The Spirit of Ecstasy

is the name of the hood ornament on Rolls-Royce cars. It is in the form of a woman leaning forwards with her arms outstretched behind and above her. The Spirit of Ecstasy carries with it a story about a secret passion between John Walter Edward Scott-Montagu and his secret love Eleanor Velasco Thornton, his secretary. -- Best of Wikipedia

.... because Peggy Noonan is terrified to get it. neo-neocon Noonan and Obama: public and private selves

What Noonan is so far refusing to understand is that, although Obama is narcissistic and likes adulation, he's not primarily interested in popularity -- except as a tool to policy. Policy is paramount, and his goal is not to be responsive to what the American people want, nor to hear their actual concerns and then to shape policy around them. His goal is to tell them what they want, to lie if required, to silence and ridicule and chastise and threaten the opposition, and if necessary to pull every political trick he can get away with in order to ram his agenda down our recalcitrant throats.

Why neo-neocon is not writing a column for the Wall Street Journal is a mystery that passeth all understanding.

The first and most important thing is for the impostor to claim the motivation of revolutionary impulses.

That way even those who know he is lying will think he is lying in a “good” cause. If the last refuge of scoundrels is the flag, the ultimate protective banner is the Red Flag. Hannah Arendt once wrote “Lies are often much more plausible, more appealing to reason, than reality, since the liar has the great advantage of knowing beforehand what the audience wishes or expects to hear.” Find the hole in your audience’s brain and drive your truck of manure through it.

The second rule is to put forward the most extravagant claims.

Don’t be half-assed about lying. The more extravagant the fib the better. A sufficiently resourceful fraud clears his path of unbelievers by sheer audacity alone. Tell a big enough lie and no one would believe you could be so bold. As the fictional Rudolf Rassendyl proved in the Prisoner of Zenda that it is better to pass yourself off as King of Ruritania rather than a minor noble. A minor noble may be questioned, but the King will not be. It is all or nothing. And given that no one wants to tug at the Royal Robe to see if it is real ermine, the fraudster often gets it “all”.

The third rule is that when questioned, destroy the questioner.

When impersonating the King be determined to have everyone who doubts your identity thrown in the tower for treason. Once you succeed in beheading the first challenger there will be no second challenges.

The fourth rule is the most important. Avoid trying to bluff those who are too big to be faced down.

What undid both Fairey and Ward Churchill was that they didn’t know when to stop their imposture. They finally took it too far. Fairey, who had been successful up to that point tried to bluff his way past a major news organization and failed. Ward Churchill was already a professor when he made his “little Eichmanns” speech after 9/11 unleashed a tide of outrage he couldn’t outface. If Fairey had not launched his poster and Churchill had not made his “little Eichmanns” speech, they might still be intellectuals in good standing.

-- Belmont Club » Honest as the day is long

Anderson Cooper:

I have an uneasy feeling only 10 months into the new administration that we're beginning to see the symptoms of this same kind of animus developing in the Obama administration. And as those of use who served in the Nixon administration know, that can get you in a lot of trouble... Don't create an enemies list." -- Anderson Cooper Compares Obama to Nixon, Spotlights Declining Approval Ratings | NewsBusters.org

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