Like a lot of Americans, I get spam in my email "in" box daily. What I'd like to know is this: How did they all learn Latin? Maybe it's not Latin at all; maybe it's Esperanto, or whatever Klattu, that nice man from outer space spoke to Gort the robot in "The Day The Earth Stood Still". I dunno.
Here's a sample collection from today's mailbox headlines:
Wompass leam sungus liquito
Leathrot plass vidow wino
Cape Potape sunnet
Flight floon swimmet spaper
Vidow bibruid solass eral knis.
I can make out three words -- "flight," "cape" and "wino," and wino is really a slang term. "Vidow" shows up twice; I wonder why vidows are so popular. Maybe they're warning me in Porky-Pigspeak of vlack vidows? Be veddy veddy careful...
Perhaps its really poetry. I imagine a gaunt man in a goatee; someone who never left the coffee shops of the Beatnik days of 1950's San Francisco, dressed all in black, earnestly speaking these words into a microphone in some dark and dingy dive out in North Beach. A single spot light illuminates our muse.
"Yeah, man. It's, like, Leathrot, plass vidow, wino... like, cool." He snaps his fingers. "Can you dig it, man?"
Polite applause from the half-dozen in the audience. They sip cappuccino while huddled around candle-lit cafe tables.
You've got to admit it; it's much more fun to imagine that spammers are really unemployed humanities majors, or space aliens, than hucksters pushing Canadian pharmaceuticals.
So, I don't open the posts to find out the truth. I'd rather think that there's a legion of Esperanto-speaking folk with nothing else to do than to email me every day.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Slate Magazine Disses Disney
I've always loved Disneyland, and tried hard, really hard, not to develop a cynical attitude toward The Magic Kingdom and all things Walt. But here's somebody else's perspective, and I have a hard time arguing with some of his observations. Except for monorails. We need monorails. Now, let's all sing "It's a Small World" as if it were George Bush's resignation speech.
Five days of Disney. - By Seth Stevenson - Slate Magazine
Five days of Disney. - By Seth Stevenson - Slate Magazine
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Why The American Economy Is Just So Much BS
BS, we love(d) you. And look what you almost did to us.
Bear Stearns, who came within an eyelash of taking a big chunk of the financial community down the toilet with it last week, could be just the canary in the coal mine. A couple of months ago, BS was trading at something like $150 a share. Last weekend, the company sold out for two bucks a share, thanks to its heavy leveraging in sub-prime mortgages.
Think of these little factoids and tell me I'm wrong.
The real estate market is little more than five percent of our economy.
The sub-prime market is a fraction of that five percent.
Defaults on sub-prime mortgages are an even smaller fraction.
So if something so insignificant can bring the banking community to its knees, what about all the other weak areas of our economy? Areas of weakness that put us in much greater peril?
The environment: Droughts, floods, crop failures? My oft-mentioned "big one" -- the San Andreas fault line decides to make Las Vegas beachfront property?
Energy: Oil - cost, supply, refining? Or an aging, overtaxed power transmission system that plunges the east coast into darkness for, oh, a week? That event, alone, would cost the US more than the events of 9/11/01, don't you think?
Other financial crisis, e.g., China and the Saudis quit buying our debt?
I'd buy gold, but you can't eat gold. I think I'll plant some more potatoes.
Bear Stearns, who came within an eyelash of taking a big chunk of the financial community down the toilet with it last week, could be just the canary in the coal mine. A couple of months ago, BS was trading at something like $150 a share. Last weekend, the company sold out for two bucks a share, thanks to its heavy leveraging in sub-prime mortgages.
Think of these little factoids and tell me I'm wrong.
The real estate market is little more than five percent of our economy.
The sub-prime market is a fraction of that five percent.
Defaults on sub-prime mortgages are an even smaller fraction.
So if something so insignificant can bring the banking community to its knees, what about all the other weak areas of our economy? Areas of weakness that put us in much greater peril?
The environment: Droughts, floods, crop failures? My oft-mentioned "big one" -- the San Andreas fault line decides to make Las Vegas beachfront property?
Energy: Oil - cost, supply, refining? Or an aging, overtaxed power transmission system that plunges the east coast into darkness for, oh, a week? That event, alone, would cost the US more than the events of 9/11/01, don't you think?
Other financial crisis, e.g., China and the Saudis quit buying our debt?
I'd buy gold, but you can't eat gold. I think I'll plant some more potatoes.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Take Your Medication Today? No? Not A Problem!
Our friends over at the Associated Press have discovered that our drinking water is contaminated with trace amounts of dozens of medications. Everything from antibiotics to sex hormones are flowing out of your tap, and there's nothing your local water treatment plant can do about it -- if they could test for it, which they can't.
It seems that when we take our meds, we also piss a lot of it away the next day. Plus, for years, the standard procedure for disposing of old drugs was to flush them down the toilet... and in much of the country, we clean and recycle our piss and put it back into the pipes to drink again. And again. And again.
The Europeans knew this about ten years ago, but apparently it takes a while for news such as this to travel to the USA. (The AP ain't the news gathering organization it once was, it seems.)
While the people who are supposed to know say that while this is serious and we shouldn't panic, it's bad for the environment. Boy fish are showing up with female hormones, etc. Gee, last time I looked, people were part of the "environment" too, right?
I'm sure some science-fiction writer has already well-covered this idea, but let me pose it for you here in case your subscription to "Amazing Stories" has lapsed:
Our government, faced with a continuing decline in, well, everything, decides to take a page out of the Tim Leary textbook and turn on the population to manage the situation. The EPA, working with our nation's top drug companies and the surviving members of the Grateful Dead, selectively salt our drinking supply based on the needs of the nation. Hey, why not? Wouldn't this fall under "providing for the common defense" or "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness"?
So, who gets what meds?
The Southwest: Birth control for slowing down the illegal immigrant birth rates. Mood stabilizers to chill out the gangs and the rising incidents of road rage on L.A. freeways.
The Midwest and and Rustbelt States: Prozac and a cocktail of other anti-depressants to let the populace ignore that American manufacturing and farming have all been exported overseas.
The Northwest: Stimulants, so that the boys on the line at Boeing, and the gang at Microsoft's Redmond campus can work 24-7 on the country's last surviving profitable products.
The Rockies and San Francisco: Remember we said the Dead were in on the project? Seems it's time for another tour.
Florida: Cardiac and stroke meds for mom and dad who retired there last year.
But back to "reality". (And how would I know? My morning coffee was made with tap water.)
If you think you can escape by drinking bottled water, good luck with that. The bottled water companies don't test their water for pharmaceuticals, either, and as much as the bottlers would like you to believe it, not all it really comes from melted glaciers or other unpolluted sources, as you might guess. So we're screwed. Have a nice day.
It seems that when we take our meds, we also piss a lot of it away the next day. Plus, for years, the standard procedure for disposing of old drugs was to flush them down the toilet... and in much of the country, we clean and recycle our piss and put it back into the pipes to drink again. And again. And again.
The Europeans knew this about ten years ago, but apparently it takes a while for news such as this to travel to the USA. (The AP ain't the news gathering organization it once was, it seems.)
While the people who are supposed to know say that while this is serious and we shouldn't panic, it's bad for the environment. Boy fish are showing up with female hormones, etc. Gee, last time I looked, people were part of the "environment" too, right?
I'm sure some science-fiction writer has already well-covered this idea, but let me pose it for you here in case your subscription to "Amazing Stories" has lapsed:
Our government, faced with a continuing decline in, well, everything, decides to take a page out of the Tim Leary textbook and turn on the population to manage the situation. The EPA, working with our nation's top drug companies and the surviving members of the Grateful Dead, selectively salt our drinking supply based on the needs of the nation. Hey, why not? Wouldn't this fall under "providing for the common defense" or "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness"?
So, who gets what meds?
The Southwest: Birth control for slowing down the illegal immigrant birth rates. Mood stabilizers to chill out the gangs and the rising incidents of road rage on L.A. freeways.
The Midwest and and Rustbelt States: Prozac and a cocktail of other anti-depressants to let the populace ignore that American manufacturing and farming have all been exported overseas.
The Northwest: Stimulants, so that the boys on the line at Boeing, and the gang at Microsoft's Redmond campus can work 24-7 on the country's last surviving profitable products.
The Rockies and San Francisco: Remember we said the Dead were in on the project? Seems it's time for another tour.
Florida: Cardiac and stroke meds for mom and dad who retired there last year.
But back to "reality". (And how would I know? My morning coffee was made with tap water.)
If you think you can escape by drinking bottled water, good luck with that. The bottled water companies don't test their water for pharmaceuticals, either, and as much as the bottlers would like you to believe it, not all it really comes from melted glaciers or other unpolluted sources, as you might guess. So we're screwed. Have a nice day.
Monday, March 10, 2008
SCAQMD: End Civilization Now!
A long, long time ago, in a place called.... well, it had no name; I don't think cavemen gave their rocky abodes names... man harnessed the sparks created from an errant lightening bolt and... voila! Man had fire.
Fire was a civilizing influence. Cavemen now had a reason to come home after a long day hunting sabre-tooth tigers. Their cavewoman counterparts would have a hot and hearty bronto-burger waiting for them, and they could share the day's ordeals in front of a crackling fire with the cave-children. They charted their exploits with carvings and paintings on the cave walls; drew the first maps, and later huddled beneath mammoth skins to make love, all with the flickering glow of firelight to guide their way.
Fast forward a few dozen thousand years, and the basis for civilization is in peril. Yes, all that man has achieved is now endangered, thanks to a body of bureaucrats known locally as the South Coast Air Quality Management District.
You see, the SCAQMD, having already screwed with our ability here in So Cal to manufacture and paint things, drive the cars we want, and, if they could find a way, prevent cows from farting, has dealt the ultimate death blow to all we hold dear; all that separates us from the other animals.
The SCAQMD says that effective next year, we can't make fire.
How's that, you ask? Well, since we no longer live in caves (at least most of us) but in houses, we make fire in our fireplaces. And, starting soon, we denizens of So Cal will no longer be able to build new homes with fireplaces.
That's right, folks. It's all over. It seems fireplaces create soot, and soot by its nature is dirty. And dirty soot means dirty air. And dirty air is a bad thing. The SCAQMD is mandated to stop bad things. Result: no fireplace in your new cave, I mean home.
Slowly, inevitably, the fireplaces we have will be demolished as new construction replaces old. And, don't you think somewhere down the line, the SCAQMD will say "no" to using the ones that are left? What a bunch of ash-holes.
So, friends, kiss the civilizing nature of fire "goodbye". No more will you cuddle with your Special Someone in front of romantic flickering flames. No more burning old love letters, or the wrapping paper from your Christmas presents. No more staring into the fire, contemplating the meaning of life, or the nature of man, or reaching that "a-ha" moment where we find a long-sought solution to a troubling problem.
When the Big One comes some moonless winter night, as all Californians who live in 'Quake Country know it will, we will laugh with black humor to think that our caveman ancestors would have been more comfortable that first night with fire, than we will be, amidst the ruins of our soot-proof wrecked condos.
Fire was a civilizing influence. Cavemen now had a reason to come home after a long day hunting sabre-tooth tigers. Their cavewoman counterparts would have a hot and hearty bronto-burger waiting for them, and they could share the day's ordeals in front of a crackling fire with the cave-children. They charted their exploits with carvings and paintings on the cave walls; drew the first maps, and later huddled beneath mammoth skins to make love, all with the flickering glow of firelight to guide their way.
Fast forward a few dozen thousand years, and the basis for civilization is in peril. Yes, all that man has achieved is now endangered, thanks to a body of bureaucrats known locally as the South Coast Air Quality Management District.
You see, the SCAQMD, having already screwed with our ability here in So Cal to manufacture and paint things, drive the cars we want, and, if they could find a way, prevent cows from farting, has dealt the ultimate death blow to all we hold dear; all that separates us from the other animals.
The SCAQMD says that effective next year, we can't make fire.
How's that, you ask? Well, since we no longer live in caves (at least most of us) but in houses, we make fire in our fireplaces. And, starting soon, we denizens of So Cal will no longer be able to build new homes with fireplaces.
That's right, folks. It's all over. It seems fireplaces create soot, and soot by its nature is dirty. And dirty soot means dirty air. And dirty air is a bad thing. The SCAQMD is mandated to stop bad things. Result: no fireplace in your new cave, I mean home.
Slowly, inevitably, the fireplaces we have will be demolished as new construction replaces old. And, don't you think somewhere down the line, the SCAQMD will say "no" to using the ones that are left? What a bunch of ash-holes.
So, friends, kiss the civilizing nature of fire "goodbye". No more will you cuddle with your Special Someone in front of romantic flickering flames. No more burning old love letters, or the wrapping paper from your Christmas presents. No more staring into the fire, contemplating the meaning of life, or the nature of man, or reaching that "a-ha" moment where we find a long-sought solution to a troubling problem.
When the Big One comes some moonless winter night, as all Californians who live in 'Quake Country know it will, we will laugh with black humor to think that our caveman ancestors would have been more comfortable that first night with fire, than we will be, amidst the ruins of our soot-proof wrecked condos.
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