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30 June 2004 My car is finally, officially, on its last legs. Or, in the words of my mechanically savvy sister, it's some broke ass junk. Yes, this is a technical term, used only by the best mechanics. At any rate, I started having this humming noise that seemed to be an air issue of some sort. Because I'm lazy, I took it to a local mechanic near where I live so I could walk back to my house. I got the call at 10am yesterday that the noise was due to a burned out EGR valve. Fine. Fix it. So I'm irritated that I have to dump another 400+ bucks into my broke ass junk, but I like my car, so what the hell. Well, I get another call from my mechanic a little after 4pm. For the first time in my life I hear a mechanic tell me, "I'm sorry, but I just can't help you." Apparently there's excess blow-by probably caused by problems with the piston rings, etc. I guess I've known that this day would come. It's time to say goodbye to Camilla. (Yes, I have to name my cars. I've always named my cars, and I will continue to name my cars.) So, they don't bother changing the EGR valve, and so the irritating noise is still there. And I have to start the thing I hate more than moving -- car shopping. I say I'm not picky. I just want something cheap that runs. But that's probably not true. I like sedans. I also like manual transmissions. I haven't had one in years, but I still like them. Besides, then I'd have an excuse to teach Matt how to drive one! But I still hate looking for cars. I hate dealerships with such a passion. Car salesmen make my blood boil. I almost bought a Saturn back in Illinois before I bought my Buick. By almost, I mean that I had even gone through the financing bit, even though I still wasn't sure I really even wanted the car. I stopped at another place, found the Buick, was happy with it, and bought it. Saturn, however, wouldn't leave me alone. They sent me mail. They called me. They bothered me all the time. It didn't matter to them that I said, "I just bought a car. I'm not in the market anymore." I think they called me every time they got a new car on their lot. I hate Saturn. I will NOT ever step foot on a Saturn lot again. I think people are right. They are a cult. I am a sad panda. 22 June 2004 I had almost forgotten about this Atlanta silliness, mostly because it doesn't really affect me. I don't really stay out long enough. But that's not the point. First of all, I think that any government established close times/last calls are unncessary. Buinesses can decide for themselves when their optimal open times are. If you're open at 5am and have no customers, well, then it's not logical to remain open at that hour. If they still want to stay open, well, who cares? Atlanta, however, wanted to do this for crime issues. And I think some of the Buckhead folks who live near their were complaining about noise and such. To the first point, take back control of your city, Mayor Franklin! It's pure silliness to think that you'll somehow ebb the creeping tide of crime in Atlanta by making the bars and clubs shut down an hour earlier. That's right folks. In case you didn't know about this, they moved the close time from 4am to 3am. This brings me to the second argument. If you're bothered by the noise and related issues of living by a bar, then don't move near a bar area. The difference in an hour (in the middle of the night, mind you) isn't really going to make much of a difference for you anyway. If you wanted peace and quiet, why didn't you move out to the country somewhere? My favourite bit: "I can't get us more police," [Peter] Andresen, [the Police Department's deputy chief of criminal investigations,] said. "The only thing I can do is manage the ones I have. And the 3 a.m. closing time is the only way we can do that." Let me remind everyone that we're talking about a one hour difference. Apparently between the hours of 3am and 4am, half (or more) of Atlanta's police force goes home. Now, I don't know about Atlanta, but I don't think shifts work that way. And maybe it's just me, but I think the last guy is right, why would anyone who is going to commit a crime at 4am feel that they couldn't commit it at 3am? Oh, and did I mention that Atlanta's precious Underground area is exempt from this "early" curfew? I'd better hush. The Atlanta thought police might come after me or something. Maybe I should post this at 4am. 16 June 2004 So, Monday after work, I was standing out on the front porch having a smoke. I do this often enough, so I don't think twice about it. Once the neighbour's dogs came up on the porch to say hi, but mostly, I think, no one even notices I'm there. And so we come to Monday. I've made brief mention of some of my neighbours here, but none has really applied to the folks who live directly across the street from me. That is, until Monday. Now, the fact that I have obnoxious kids in the neighbourhood has never really bothered me. In fact, I've gotten more than my share of laughs from them, so it's all good. They play in the street, they don't move when you're trying to drive down the street, they walk in our yard, they take off their shoes at the start of our driveway, etc., etc., etc. I even had a friend who was dropping something off midmorning for us tell us that they all jumped on another neighbour's car and wouldn't get off. So, they're a pretty unruly bunch and will probably grow up to be future Darwin award winners. All in all, however, not a single one of them have ever acknowledged my presence. Enter Monday. Across the street, there were a group of kids (I think they belonged to that house, but I didn't see a handler anywhere) hanging out right outside the front door. Okay, I thought. At least they weren't in the street. So, I light up my smoke and start thinking about what I want to cook for dinner. It doesn't take long for me to start hearing "hey! pretty lady!" from across the street. I glace across the street and it's of course coming from this group of boys who are now shouting all kinds of things, mostly involving their professed love for me and how pretty I am. Part of me wanted to let them know that I'm old enough to be their mother, but the reasonable part of me just tried to ignore them and enjoy my Camel. Ignoring them didn't stop them, as now part of their attempted banter included things like "what? you want talk to us? You're just rude!" But that wasn't the kicker. The kicker was hearing from a little 10 or 12 year old boy, "hey! do you like to take it up the butt?" My dear lord. That was almost the straw. Were I more active, I would have waited for a handler to get home, march myself over there, and let them know they need to have a little talk to their spratlings about appropriate and inappropriate behaviour, esp. toward strangers. But Wait! That's not all. I left, went to the grocery store, came back and was outside talking to my dad about this Mustang I saw for sale. Matt gets home. The kids are still out there, but I've just put them on ignore. In fact, I'm pretending that they don't even exist, mostly because I'm engrossed in a discussion about a '66 Mustang and why I wish I could dig up 5.7k and go buy it, but why I probably shouldn't even call the number to go take it for a spin. But I digress. The point is, I'm chatting with my dad and Matt gets my attention to ask my why we are being mooned by kids across the street. I rolled my eyes, finished my conversation, and told him the wonderful story. He was as shocked as I was. And people wonder why I don't like kids? 14 June 2004 And now we come to the age-old question: Do the ends justify the means? In the past couple of weeks, the media has been all astir over this memo about the nuances of torture. Well, I suppose I should give credit where credit is due. Finally, there is hint of nuance in this administration, albeit arguably misused. At any rate, back to the age-old question. I used to teach Machiavelli in my Freshman comp classes. Inevitably, you have to get a running poll of the answer to this question. Results, of course, vary from year to year and class to class. However, almost unanimously, these young minds would either reply with a resounding "no" or with the more thoughtful "it depends on the circumstances." You always have a few die-hard Machiavellians, but I think they're a dying breed. I've asked myself this same question hundreds of times, and I'm still not quite sure where I fall. I like to think that the moral high ground is that the ends never justify the means, but no one is perfect, and you can always think of a situation where the end is so important that any means used to achieve it are justifiable. I thought, though, that all that moral relativism was exclusive to liberal thinking! At any rate, the rest of my thoughts are directed to the memo itself. I must say that I've got to give the argument an A. It rates right up there with some of my own arguments that, while interesting and even backed up by the text, are just plain crazy. (Case in point, my bit on Joan of Arc's trial transcripts and, most recently, my arguments about Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things.) The difference, however, is that this memo actually affects real people, while my own silly arguments don't affect anyone because no one cares. This argument, however, is disturbing on many levels, particularly because it's so well done. I mean, the idea of pain and suffering is such a subjective matter that it's not quite laughable that we could dispute its meaning. But this isn't even the most mind- boggling idea put forward. I think the point that stuck with me most is the bit about intent. [E]ven if the defendant knows that severe pain will result from his actions, if causing such harm is not his objective, he lacks the requisite specific intent even though the defendent did not act in good faith. Instead, a defendant is guilty of torture only if he acts with teh express purpose of inflicting severe pain or suffering on a person within his custody or physical control. (p. 4) Now, the memo points out that even our criminal justice system today allows for the establishment of intent. I don't think you can be charged with murder one if defense establishes that there was no intent to commit the murder, etc. But this never means that the defendant gets off completely. That's why our justice system has about a million different "charges" for murder/manslaughter/homicide. What bothers me is that first bit about the defendant being aware of the consequences of his actions and still not technically being responsible for them because, well, that wasn't the main objective. Give me a break. If you did it, and you're not mentally deficient (I'm still a liberal and willing to cut severe LD people a small break because many of them really don't have the mental capacity to understand their actions), then you're responsible for the results of those actions. See, if I throw a rock out of my high-rise window, and it hits someone's property of someone, am I responsible for those actions? Can I be sued for destruction of property? I didn't intend for my rock to destroy property, but I sure as hell knew that if my rock hit something from that distance, it would sure as hell damage it. Ah well. This was certainly one great experiment in pushing an argument to its limit and still, for the most part, remaining convincing. I'm ultimately reminded of A Tale of a Tub and the Father's Will. What's been done is nothing new. What I wonder most is if those who are doing this in their fight against terrorism realise the irony of stretching and contorting the law. (You know, they justify their own actions by stretching and contorting their own religious law.) 11 June 2004 While perusing the local rag (yes, I finally got my AJC registration stuff fixed), I came across this lovely op-ed. Now, before you start with me, I'm not against home schooling per se. I am a libertarian after all. I just want to point out the silliness in the reasoning behind Mr T.C. Pinckney's theories. First off, he says that God wants us home schooled. Does He really? Everyone? Lemme check my commandments. Nope, couldn't find "Thou shalt home school thy child" anywhere in those. Now, he does point out that the Bible says that parents should be responsible for the education of their children. I won't disagree with that. Parents should be responsible for educating their children. In most cases, that means they should make their child actually attend school, do their homework, get them into extracurricular reading, etc. I don't think God cares about public schools in the general sense the way Mr Pinckney does. In fact, I'd argue that public schools aren't particularly the evil institutions that Mr Pinckney thinks they are. Now, as I said before, I'm all for home schooling providing that the home is able to provide two very important things: (1), A parent who can stay home with the child all day at least five days per week. And (2), a parent who is intelligent and capable enough of imparting academic knowledge on to the children who are being home schooled. In other words, if both parents need to work to pay their mortgage or rent and put food on the table, then home schooling isn't an option. The child (more than likely) isn't just going to sit at home and school himself. If he were, I'd think that DFaCS would be knocking on the door. Also, if the parents are like my neighbours who just let their children run around and play in the street, they probably don't have the ability to be teaching multiplication or spelling, much less algebra or the finer points of Moby Dick. Now, how far do you think that child is going to get if they follow what God apparently wants them to do? They could be as God-fearing as they want, but if they aren't qualified to teach their children, then they shouldn't do it. I'm sorry, but the vast majority of Americans, even among the fundies, aren't cut out for teaching anything more than the very, very, very, very basic skills. The real fact of this matter is that we don't live in a theocracy. If you want to teach your child a particular religion, then you can do that in the home and in the churches, mosques, synagogues, etc. Mr Pinckney got one thing right when he writes, "American state schools were begun in Massachusetts in the 1830s by a group composed largely of wealthy Unitarians whose goal was to eliminate religion from education. This was the original purpose of government schools, and they have achieved remarkable success." However, he misses the point. These Unitarians didn't want to be fed denominational dogma in the schools. I don't think the Baptists would enjoy being taught specifically Catholic dogma, etc. There was a very good reason why our country does not like to have religion integrated into public education. It doesn't make the institution evil. It just means that there is a time and a place for everything, and school is not the time nor the place to learn about God. Perhaps this is as good a place as any to point out that there is a movement for people just like Mr Pinckney. Too bad they didn't learn in home school that South Carolina already tried to secede from the Union and was brought back into the fold (so to speak) by a very nasty war. 7 June 2004 Well folks, it's been a long past couple of weeks. I took a vacation to New Orleans last week and the week before that was mostly getting ready for my vacation. First and foremost, I'd like to do something that has never been done in this blog and may never be done again in my petty babbling -- I'd like to commend Georgia. That's right folks. You heard it first here. After driving through Alabama, Mississippi and parts of Louisiana, I need to praise the Georgia DoT. This is not to say that they are smart enough to fix the transportation woes of Atlanta, but at least they make the state nice to drive in, or rather, they make the roads in Georgia nice to drive on. Now, on to the juicy bits. Here are pictures. Matt annotated them. There were about twice as many pictures, but Matt likes to fiddle with the camera settings too much, and so a lot of them didn't turn out so nicely. Even some of the ones that are there are sort of fuzzy. This may be (or may not be) directly related to how much imbibing the person behind the camera was doing. Ah well. It was a fun trip, and I'd like to point out some nifty things. (1) If you are a hooker, do not try to get into Payless after they close. The women inside will laugh at you and make comments like "What she wanna do? Spend the night in Payless?" (2) It is almost impossible to take a photo of Marie Laveau's tomb without any parts of other people in it. There must have been a million tour groups in St. Louis #1, and all of them had a different story to tell. I suggest taking at least one of these tours while in the city. There are dozens to choose from, but guides are a mixed bag. Of course, they're all entertaining, if not particularly historically correct. (3) When in New Orleans, make a point to go to the wax museum. It's worth every penny of the $6.75 it costs to get in. While Napoleon in the bathtub is quite funny, you'll get a great kick out of reading the placards and listening to the sound clips. They haven't changed anything since they opened in 1961. (4) Seafood is good and cheap in Nawlins. Eat as much as you can, because when you return to places like Atlanta, you'll go back to either paying premium for good seafood or just doing without and subsisting on steak and chicken. (5) Twelve-year-old kids can be amusing. My second night there, my friends and I had a few of these kids attach themselves to us and start tossing out Yo' Momma jokes. They were actually pretty good at it. (6) It is impossible to have a good hair day in New Orleans. The humidity would require more product than I have in all my hair-care arsenal, much less the few things that I brought with me. (7) Drunk people are always funny to watch. I keep thinking they will become less funny the more of them I see, but no... always funny. Pick a random bar on Bourbon Street (or anywhere in the French Quarter for that matter) and just watch the drunk people. Hell, just stand on the sidewalk on Bourbon street and you can watch the drunk people stumbling around. It's more amusing than Buckhead on a Friday night! If you're lucky, you'll stumble into someplace that has duelling music -- a guy on the piano and a juke box! If you're really lucky, the guy on the piano will be singing some hokey song like "My Ding-a-ling." (8) There are about a million psychics in Jackson Square. I think New Orleans got a deal from the Psychic Friends Network or something. I can't believe they actually make any money, but I guess drunk tourists will do just about anything. (9) Although New Orleans is (I guess) famous for its Hurricanes, might I suggest a Handgrenade instead? At least they come in cool, bong-like cups with your own little plastic toy grenade. (10) I think I managed to walk more in a single week in New Orleans than I have walked all year. There's something to be said about a city that you can actually walk through. Atlanta--not a walking city. This became increasingly apparent to me as I sat on the side walk along the Jackson Square mall (pedestrians only except during a few limited hours per day) and watched an SUV driving along the mall area (not during one of the few limited hours per day) with a Fulton county tag on. Go Atlanta! Way to represent! At any rate, I had a good time. Everyone should go there at least once. |