The Clog

HILLARY VS. BILL

2008-08-27T21:34:00.000-07:00

I know I'm just contributing to the tawdry and completely unimportant internet fray when I compare the speeches Hillary and Bill gave, but I must say this: Bill Clinton is incredibly moving when he's warmed up and crooning to the bleachers. Hillary, on the other hand, is as boring, uninspiring, pedantic, and wooden as I've always thought her to be. I got up and refreshed my beverage while she was talking, right around the time she got to bullet point #36.

JOE BIDEN, EMBODIMENT OF CHANGE

2008-08-23T14:39:00.001-07:00

Well, well, well, Barack Obama becomes less and less interesting each day. His decision to take Beltway institution, Joe "Six-Term" Biden, as his running mate is predictable, cynical, and rather ordinary. It has little to do with Biden's voting record (which I'm about to pounce on with more accuracy and thoroughness than the NY Times is apparently capable of mustering), his suitability to replace Obama, and absolutely nothing to do with his capacity for change...whatever that word means this weekend (by my count, the word has assumed about a dozen "nuanced" meanings since Obama started throwing it around).

Cynical because Biden is simply a blunt weapon to use against the McTroll.

Boo. Show me the change.

BARACK OBAMA LOSES THE GENERAL ELECTION TO JESUS CHRIST, PART 2

2008-08-20T18:51:00.000-07:00

Quick, grab your copy of the U.S. Constitution and turn to the last sentence of Article VI, which quite clearly and eloquently states:

The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the Members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any office or public Trust under the United States.

Yet America's presidential candidates bowed to pastor Rick Warren by appearing before him to answer questions that are of value only to deluded individuals who believe that religious fortitude is a litmus test for presidency.

Are you starting to understand why I'm leaving the U.S.?

RATIONAL PEOPLE ARE SO SEXY

2008-08-20T17:33:00.000-07:00

Ah, those realists, the Australians. James Allan, a U. of Queensland law professor, takes an incredibly polite and inescapably scathing shot at the believers of alternative medicine.

Sentence of the day: "No one likes to be rude at a fun dinner party or to risk social isolation by calling someone an idiot."

RANDOM OLYMPICS OBSERVATIONS

2008-08-18T22:18:00.000-07:00

I love the Olympics. What's not to love? The best of the best, clawing their way to a chance to compete for one of three dinky medals. It's like winning an Oscar, except that real, measurable talent is involved.

I don't have broadcast TV, so I stream what I want to watch. When you see a live event without jumbotrons, nattering experts, heart-wrenching music cues, instant recaps, instant strocaps, instant repcaps, and instant slocaps, the event is really quite fascinating. Unbroken and pure.

nbcolympics.com is one of the worst answers to a pretty ambitious problem: presenting live and subsequently processed programming in a way that is easy to find and sort through. They fail miserably when it comes to finding and sorting. Disgusting and repetitive advertisements, a labyrinthine navigation scheme, disjointed groupings. What a mess. Here it is -- 2008 -- and we still can't slice and dice content the way any old sci-fi writer from the 60s could have.

The sooper-dooper enhanced streaming video is vibrant and fluid, but it just can't reproduce a water polo match, or calm the noise from splashes that swimmers produce when stroking their hearts out toward a record finish. It does baseball games well because so much in baseball involves time standing still.

Sports experts are like whipped cream. Do we really need the extra calories? Isn't that Michael Phelps Triple Sundae exquisite without pouring half a can of fluffy stuff on top of it? Gag me.

OK, that weightlifter who snapped his arm in half trying to lift is way super hot. I hope he recovers quickly and brings many superstrong little hotties into the world.

I've already talked about how much I love the rowing. I'm also enjoying women's weightlifting (what a spunky gaggle of girls who could beat me up) and diving (no better physiques in the world).

Most boring events so far? As in deargodjustgivethesepeopleamedal? Judo, men's lightweight weightlifting, softball, and water polo (mostly because you can't see more than a bunch of blue & white blurs when streaming).

Must give superior props to the badminton combatants, who actually make striking the killing blow to a birdie look incredibly sexy.

ROWING RULES

2008-08-17T19:16:00.000-07:00

I've streamed hours of video of the Olympics and have generally enjoyed myself. Not crazy about the American broadcasts, where American talking heads do little more than trip over themselves with breathlessness about American athletes. Go U.S.A!

But I loves me some rowing. In all, I think I've watched ten hours of it. Single sculls, double sculls, those 4-person thingies. The stroke of oars against the boat, across the water, the camera angles that so perfectly capture their speed, the calming regularity of rowers' mechanics, what seems like an endless stretch of calm water, as beautiful on a misty morning as it is under a clean blue sky.

Olympic rowing is the ultimate healthy soporific. Imagine waking up an hour after you started watching a set of rowing matches, only to discover that it's all still going on. Row, row, row, row...row...ro...

MUSLIMS AND THE COWARDS

2008-08-17T18:53:00.000-07:00

Sherry Jones wrote a novel about the relationship between Islam's Muhammed and A'isha, his 9 year old bride, with whom he consummated their relationship when she was 11. Random House was supposed to release this book on August 12. A day or two beforehand, they decided not to release the book because "credible and unrelated sources" indicated that the release of the novel would enrage Islamic fundie nuts, resulting in acts of terror on...whoever.

So, I have a couple of things to say. Muslims -- get over yourselves. You're just the new Christians, trust me, and will be deposed from your reign of terror, in due time, by the inescapable juggernaut of reason and logic. I make no distinction between liberal, moderate, or conservative Muslims since the very foundation of your belief system is hogwash.

Second: Random House, you are cowardly twats. It's a novel -- remember The Satanic Verses? Life goes on, Islam does not crumble. You have no respect whatsoever for the religion you are afraid to offend. Instead, you are afraid of a theoretical threat -- put forth -- as speculation -- by a bunch of people you enlisted to read the book before you made your cowardly decision. Really, get a pair.

BOB COSTAS IS A DICK

2008-08-17T18:39:00.000-07:00

Bob Costas is the perfect specimen of a class of sports/athletics broadcasters my father describes simply: "These people have never played a professional sport. They've never pitched a baseball or swam a competitive lap or biked 100 miles or slid through the mud on their way to the end zone. But they talk more than anybody else. They're experts. They know it all."

I was so looking forward to the televised exchange between Mark Spitz and Michael Phelps. As soon as I saw that asshole Costas was the host, my spirits plummeted. I can't remember a less inspired, more boring, plastic, and information anemic interview.

Instead of coaxing Spitz and Phelps out of their robotic exclamations of mutual admiration -- i.e., inspiring in them some sense of emotional spontaneity -- Costas spent his time with foolish trains of thought such as: if you could swim against each other today, who would win? That's at about the level of the arguments I used to have when I was 6 years old: who would win in a fight, Wonder Woman or Superman?

TO SERVE AND PROTECT

2008-08-09T16:56:00.000-07:00

My mom asked me today if I had heard about the SWAT raid in Berwyn Heights. No, I said, because I tend to ignore local and national news when I can. As I prepare mentally for my expatriation, I'm shedding the American impulse to dwell on scandal, the media's obsession with pain and suffering, and Americans' disgusting but keenly developed rubbernecking instinct.

So, I listened as she explained what happened. Let's consider the cast: Cheye Calvo, the mayor of Berwyn Heights, which is located in Prince George's County, Maryland, not far from the College Park campus of the University of Maryland. His wife, Trinity Tomsic, a human resources bureaucrat. Her mother, who the couple had invited to live with them. Two black labradors, Payton and Chase.

Now consider the scene: Mayor Calvo arrives home, takes his dogs out for a walk. During his walk, he waves to people sitting in black SUVs, thinking they have parked for a nearby party. He returns home, where he finds a large package that had been delivered earlier. His mother-in-law asked the deliverer to leave the heavy package on the porch. Mayor Calvo brought it inside. He then went upstairs and began to undress.

The mother-in-law sees armed masked men on the property and begins to scream. Immediately, the front door is busted open, armed men enter. They shoot and kill one of the dogs without hesitation. The other dog runs up the stairs. The men shoot him in the back, killing him. Mayor Calvo comes down the stairs in his socks and underwear. He and his mother-in-law are wrested to the ground and handcuffed, where they remain for approximately two hours.

I grew up in Montgomery County, which abuts Prince George's County. For as long as I can remember, PG County had a terrible reputation for overzealous cop action, most of it -- at least in the 70s and 80s -- racially related. My dad was a D.C. cop, and he spoke of the PG police force as if they were to be feared or at least widely avoided. Even he, a black man, would not drive through the county if he could avoid it.

PG County's police force, for a time, had one of the worst reputations in the country for police violence and heavy-handedness. Every time I think of the place, I think of drug problems, wicked cops, bad roads, poverty, and white trash. It was a stinking pit when I was a kid.

Today, it's a place where your civil rights still mean shit. Even if you're the apparently unassailable mayor of a bedroom community.

The police made a mistake. That, they do not deny. But they have done what misguided law officials who make colossal mistakes often do -- we've seen it here in San Francisco: they refuse to lower their heads in shame and expose themselves to the public humiliation they deserve.

I will admit that the shocking murder of two dogs beloved in the neighborhood by kids and families first got me hot and bothered. Once I cooled my jets, I realized that even if the dogs had not been so carelessly slaughtered, this would still be a horrible violation of personal rights. It turns out that Maryland does not have a law supporting no-knock entry, as the joint siege squad (Country Sheriff and County Police) claimed they had.

More surprising is that the Chief of Berwyn Heights Police had not been informed of the simmering raid. That would be the same Chief of Police who knows the Mayor and who since has publicly stated that he could have walked up to the Mayor's house and asked to come in and talk about the package. Without cuffing an old lady and her near-naked son-in-law. Without shooting two beautiful pets.

But it gets better. The package contained 30+ pounds of weed, which an undercover cop had delivered after it had been siezed in Arizona with the Mayor's wife's name and address on it. So, now we have a pretty clear violation of Constitutional rights. Clever criminals, having borrowed Trinity Tomsic's identity, planned to use the Mayor's front porch as a drop-off and pick-up for a large quantity of pot. They had done the same thing for other victims of borrowed identity.

In the end, this all boils down to pot. This is your brain. This is your brain on the war on drugs.

Are you feeling good about that? Are you feeling safe in your own home? If not, think about moving to a country that values individual rights over the misguided impulses of zealous fucktards chartered with serving and protecting you.

OH, WHAT A SUPRISE

2008-07-15T22:40:00.001-07:00

Can you believe it? Baseball's American League won their 5 millionth All-Star game, but this time both leagues dragged us through 15 innings of incredibly stifling ball play, resulting in a -- wait for the exciting part -- 4-3 win. After 15 innings, I want a 2,000-1,456 run count.

Once again, everybody but you and stupid me makes tons of money off a single exhibition game that is no more interesting -- and a hell of a lot less lengthy -- than a Democratic primary.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

SURREALIST FICTION LIVES!

2008-07-02T19:55:00.001-07:00

My friend, Erik Secker, has reached that most special of milestones for a writer: his first published story, "The Red Door." You can find it in the current online edition of Farrago's Wainscot, a "Gallery of Weirds."

I love this story, not just for its clean, neatly colored writing, its excellent sense of place and time, but for its history. I read one of the early drafts of this story, when it sprawled with ideas I couldn't quite collect into a coalescent whole.

The published version has come a long way, transforming along the way into a surrealist parable evocative of one of Baudelaire's prose poems from Paris Spleen, or even into a moment of deadpan absurdity right out of Alfred Jarry. The definition of a surrealist writing -- if I can channel Andre Breton for a moment -- is its reliance on the strength, subjective clarity, and complete insupportability of knowledge and experience culled from the dream state. We dream a thing. It feels real. It has meaning. But it's not real. And its meaning is open to interpretation, based almost entirely on the presentation, order, and gravity of its imagery.

If you think you know what's behind the red door, you're probably right. Aren't you?

BARACK OBAMA LOSES THE GENERAL ELECTION TO JESUS CHRIST

2008-07-01T15:01:00.000-07:00

Today, The New York Times reported: "Obama Wants to Expand the Role of Religious Groups." I read the article, regained my composure, and then wrote a letter to the Obama campaign. It follows.

Dear Mr. Plouffe. Mr. Obama, and the hard-working volunteers and staff of the Obama Campaign,

It's interesting that "deadline," which you entitled the email below, has an alternate historical meaning: a line drawn around a prison beyond which prisoners were liable to be shot.

I was prepared to respond positively to your request that I boost my donation immediately to the legal (if unconstitutional) contribution limit. I was prepared to do this until I read in The New York Times today that Barack Obama has decided to pander to the evengelicals, that group of presumably Christian people whose radicals spend most of their time, money, and religious arms twisting the United States into a perverse blend of democracy and theocracy.

Mr. Obama -- of all people, thanks to his history actually paying attention to Constitutional principles -- should realize what a horrible and unforgivable blow to secular humanism Bush's "faith-based" initiatives are. And let's stop using euphemisms, shall we? Faith-based simply means religious.

Mr. Obama's document "Partnering with Communities of Faith" (PDF) is, in short, one of the weakest and most worrying position statements to come out of his campaign. Like those who quote the convenient parts of a holy book to punctuate a narrow point, the paper cites studies by cherry-picking conclusions that are understood in better context only when held up against the conclusions that contradict their value. "Americans are a deeply religious people," the paper boldly states. It is just as accurate to state that there is a sizable number of Americans who aren't. It is also accurate to state that there is a sizable number of Americans who are deeply religious who do not believe that church and state should mingle. Why doesn't the paper appreciate the fascinating intersection of these three bodies? You could argue that they are the sum of ALL Americans, which is who I thought Obama was out to inspire.

Let's talk for a minute about what The New York Times in its article called "sizable minorities." It used the term to describe evangelical voters, but it appears from Obama's speech and position paper that he is now pandering to a sub-section of a sizable minority: the moderate evangelical -- whatever in the world that means. Does this mean that Barack Obama is prepared to look foolish and untrustworthy before the eyes of those of us who do not believe in the sickening collusion of church and state? Does it mean that he's spending all this time and energy on some statistical sub-unit of a sizable minority? An unsizable minority? A sizable minority majority?

I'm a classical liberal and an atheist who believes that people always shed their differences and arrive at a productive gestalt when faced collectively with a threat to their existence. Despite our religious beliefs -- or lack thereof -- we pour money and volunteer time into helping Chinese quake victims, Myanmar typhoon victims, genocide survivors in Darfur, refugees of wars we cause, the list goes on. We can do this without a position paper or presidential vision on the matter. Charity and altruism require no federal programs to qualify as central constituents of a moral civilization.

I'm incredibly disappointed that a Constitutional expert like Mr. Obama has allowed himself to fall -- hook, line, and sinker -- for the threat of a threat from the radical right. Perhaps its time someone stood up and threw down a gauntlet. One attractive feature of an Obama presidency is to clean house, take out the Bush-era garbage that has so bloated and spoiled American government. Hanging unconvincingly on to one of that era's most mortal concessions to the religious right is absurd. Issuing a position paper that tries to hum a mainstream tune to distract us from the radicalism of that concession is also absurd.

I can not, in good conscience, continue to donate to the Obama campaign. As a person and presidential candidate, he has made me feel electric about this election season, and that probably won't change. But I won't contribute to a campaign that panders to evangelicals. It is also very doubtful that I can defy my instincts and vote for a man who continues to invite quasi-theocratic ideologies into the White House.

Very disappointed,
Andrew

EAT, DRINK

2008-06-29T22:10:00.000-07:00

There's a fantastic scene in Ridley Scott's Legend where Tim Curry, as the character simply called Darkness, towers over Mia Sara, playing a bewitched princess. She sits uncomfortably at the head of a massive dining table overflowing with foods, familiar and alien, meant to express Darkness' utterly superficial attempts to woo her. Darkness crows, "Eat...drink!" with a devilish confidence that would have made Bela Lugosi recoil. This evening, I bowed to that simple command by cooking several dishes with their presentation in mind. One dish, a mixture of stacked morel mushrooms, fennel puree, mustard vinagraitte, basil vinaigrette, and fennel fronds resulted in the little pyramids of texture and taste shown below.

BEWARE WOLVES IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING

2008-06-27T23:38:00.001-07:00

I'm a libertarian. Bob Barr is not. Oh, he may be a Libertarian(tm), but he is not a libertarian. He voted for the Patriot Act, threw his (constitutionally late) vote behind the invasion and occupation of Iraq, and helped pilot the plane of Bill Clinton's impeachment. He's interested in constitutionally enshrining the inability of same-sex couples to enjoy the M word.

He is, in other words, a hypocrite. Classical liberalists are scornful of all 4 of the involvements I mentioned above. The Libertarian Party's adoption of Barr as their wan princeling for president is shocking and hugely disappointing.

No true libertarian would equate Barr with an orthodoxy that frees us from those offered by the perfidious 2-party system and its increasingly homogeneous machinery. This is at the heart of the perplexing dilemma of a formal Libertarian party. Libertarians are most effective at the state, regional, and municipal level. Once you try treading the tar pit of federal office, you seem to enter a world where contradiction and antithesis are like pills and alcohol: in great enough doses, who cares, who can see through the ever-increasing power of U.S. government? I can't. Pass the bong. What was your name, again?

THE 44,000

2008-06-11T17:50:00.000-07:00

The evidence supporting Darwinist theory is colossal, far more impressive than the text-based portfolio of a supernatural archetype. One tenet of evolutionary theory is the incredibly protracted time frames in which evolution occurs. We humans are are small-minded. We are also -- by virtue of our size, function in nature, embryological disposition, and life spans -- equipped (and required by natural selection) only to master decade spans, psychologically and physically. It's difficult for us to fathom the meaning of 44,000 generations. We cognitively assume such numbers through poetry or geology (or through magnificent leaps in imagination), but we can't personally experience more than 2 or 3 generations in either direction (ancestors / descendants).

Imagine a research laboratory in which E. coli is farmed and studied every day, relentlessly. Imagine that "generations" in E. coli time are so accelerated, they look like those terrifying graphics used in the subterranean science facility where most of The Andromeda Strain's drama takes place.

Studying 44,000 generations in a 20-year time span has yielded mutations in E. coli that demonstrate how same-species developing and reproducing in isolation from each other can diverge. One of the unsung beauties of the findings in this article is that it also clearly -- and microscopically -- dismisses one of Big Religion's weakest (but otherwise most PR sexy) arguments: Darwinism withers before gaps in the fossil record.

The scientists and their frozen, multi-generation stock act as layers in the earth's crust, able to easily reproduce E. coli generational history in increments of 500 generations. No gaps here, just precision attempts to understand the gorgeous and perplexing nuances of life.

NEWS HEADLINE OF THE DAY

2008-06-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

Tatum O'Neal: Dog's death reason for Crack purchase

YOU DO NOT GET TO OWN INDIANA JONES

2008-05-28T22:57:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend, I had the distinct pleasure of seeing the new Indiana Jones flick. Twice. I'm so close to Indy that I can't possibly write about his movies with any sense of objectivity -- he's been in my life since I was 15 years old. 'Nuff said.

I will, however, steadfastly refuse to surrender Indiana Jones to the disgusting Ministry of Family Values. In print, on radio, and even on the bloody MUNI, I hear people refer to the new movie as "fun, family adventure." You know where I'm going with this, don't you?

Fuck family adventure. When you put the word "family" in front of anything, all sorts of creepy things happen. Time slows down. People get really fat. Sodium and sugar prevail. You can smell inexpensive alcohol, hand-me-down clothes, and, in the distance, somewhere over that hill between you and the mall, you can hear the shrill caw of an unhappy parent unfairly accusing a kid of something she's totally guilty of. Family adventure sucks.

Indiana Jones belongs to loners, outsiders, geeks, and innovators. People with dual lives, double identities, and mutually inclusive professional pursuits. Stick to your gay little Prince Caspians. I'll take a real man with a whip, any day.

YOUR FEDERAL NANNY SUCKS

2008-05-17T16:55:00.000-07:00

Spring is here and local farmers markets are overflowing with fava beans. Today, I bought 2 lbs. of shelled beans, which I am using tomorrow in a Jamie Oliver recipe.

I know that fava beans are high in protein and fiber, but I wanted to know what other good nutrients they bring to a body. On mothernature.com, I found out that fava beans have good amounts of folic acid, a form of vitamin B that supports the building blocks of DNA and -- more importantly for those of us who are already alive -- RNA.

I happened on the following paragraph, which made me laugh and shake my head. It seems that there is simply NO escape from the intrusiveness and ineffectiveness of federal government. Here's how the FDA is replacing your good judgement (or is that compensating for your incredible stupidity):

In 1996, the FDA began to require that all enriched flour, rice, pasta, cornmeal, and other grain products contain 140 mcg of folic acid per 100 grams. Among people who do not take vitamin supplements, this amount of food fortification has been associated with increased folic acid levels in the blood and decreased blood levels of homocysteine. Nevertheless, evidence is mounting that the FDA-mandated level of folic acid fortification in food is inadequate to fully prevent neural tube defects. Until fortification rates are quadrupled, women who can possibly become pregnant are advised to take a folic acid supplement of 400 mcg per day.

There you have it. The massively expensive FDA, with all its tax-eating resources, isn't even at the cutting edge of awareness regarding the value of high levels of folic acid in the body.

Perhaps you should start asking yourself why the FDA does what it does, who it serves, and why you should pay any attention to its recommendations and regulations.

I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU MAN AND, UM, OTHER MAN

2008-05-16T11:49:00.000-07:00

My boyfriend, Jeremy, and I are getting married this summer. The California Supreme Court's ruling this week reinforces the strength of the 14 Amendment, providing equal protection under the law for those seeking same-sex marriage.

The fantastic irony of this is that Jeremy and I have no other reason to get married than the valuable certification it allows us as we seek qualification for emigration to New Zealand.

Anyone who knows me knows I'm opposed to the queer obsession with being like the Joneses (mainstream heterosexual life, marriage and all). There is no defensible reason for the government to be involved in issuing contracts for marriage. The contract two people make to share their lives and rights is enforcable and legitimate without government approval. And if you want to coat this contract with a circus of religious incantations, terrific, that's also none of the government's business.

If the government weren't in the marriage business, we wouldn't be wasting our time with state-constitution amendments or court rulings related to sexual and emotional agreements between private citizens. But because we live in a country whose citizens wallow in this nonsense, I am perfectly happy to take full legal advantage of their idiotic diversions.

So, I thank you, California, for making it that much easier for Jeremy and I to move to New Zealand together. Certainly, a domestic-partnership registration would have sufficed, but who can resist using the weapon of normative moralists to escape their very influence. Fools.

On a completely different note, I will admit, now in my 40s, a surprising attachment to old conditioning related to the excitement of "getting married." Although I know that I am cynically exploiting the marriage system, I am rather chuffed at the idea of marching into City Hall and paying for papers that say Jeremy and I are bound, shackled, and now eligible for that most gorgeous of marital antidotes: divorce.

I've invited my sister out for what will invariably be a public civil ceremony. We'll party in our own way afterwards, imbibing lots of fine kiwi wine.

QUASI-GOVERNMENTAL AGENCIES: 1, LOCAL ENTREPRENEURS: 0

2008-05-15T18:36:00.000-07:00

It's interesting that progressive, liberal San Francisco can talk out of both sides of its fat mealy mouth about stemming the invasion of corporate chains while a quasi-governmental entity we call the Airport Commission works dilligently to quell independent businessmen.

It's all part of the inevitable vesting of market diversity into market monoliths that infects American corporate culture..

Here's the scenario. Several shuttle companies deliver air travelers from their homes to the airport. Apparently, the Commission has decided that this important equalizing force -- competition holds prices in check and requires some investment by companies in proving that they are "better" than the others -- is too difficult for stupid humans to sort through. Their solution? The regulatory eradication of a competitive market by bestowing to the market leader a preferred/authorized/sanctioned status as the de facto vendor.

Disgusting. When you have choice, you enjoy the responsibility of selection and negotiation. When you do not have choice -- as socialists/fascists in real and imagined (SFO) government prefer, because it's good for you, your children, and your over-taxed simian brain -- you pay more for less.

Which part of this simple principle is not clear?

MEMO TO LIMOUSINE LIBERALS: PUT UP OR SHUT UP

2008-05-15T18:09:00.000-07:00

Marin County, north across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco, is home to a very specific type of powerful liberal -- the wealthy one. We will define wealth here as any group at least 30 rungs above poverty, where the West Virginian middle class would rank, say 6 rungs above poverty.

Wealthy liberals in bedroomy Marin County are getting bitchy about proposed hikes in the toll they have to pay when they cross the GGB to enter San Francisco, either for work or pleasure. Mostly for work.

Matt Smith of -- who knew? -- SF Weekly, an entertainment and what's-hot-now rag, takes "limousine liberals" to task for a behavior I identified in my Why Leave America post.

The deplorable delusion most Americans hold that corporate entities "interested" in the green movement replace their need to actively take charge of ecological conservation.

Smith's eloquent position is that if you choose to live in a bedroom community and you profit from the use of highways that encourage green-offensive behavior -- like driving an SUV many miles to go to your job -- you should pony up and contribute to the environmental movement instead of bitching and moaning about your expenses/grief/inconveniences.

But that's not the America in which we live. The government will pass pork coin down through the system and roads will get fixed and tolls will remain the same and you get to suck on your pathetic little latte while talking on the phone in gridlock traffic all the way from Corte Madera (home of the upscale mall). Oh, and you can feel good about using recycled bags at Whole Foods and the demise of the plastic bag and fall into utter inertness because PG&E, Chevron, Mobil, and Chrysler have assured you they are all over the pollution problem. You know they are, because you saw it on a billboard. While driving to work.

DEAR ERIK

2008-05-15T17:29:00.000-07:00

The other day, I had a wonderful phone conversation with an old friend who is the proud papa of a 9-month-old little human. We talked at length about what's going on in America -- the fear culture, the blanket of isolationism we all draw around ourselves when we are mesmerized by cell phones and MP3 players at the expense of rich, messy human connections, the paranoia parents have learned to adopt as a substitute for reasonable concern. Erik and I don't talk about the weather.

We started talking about hope and the future. About what we expect from the next president. We chatted about whether it was naive or delusional to pin the refurbishment of American values and policies on one man. Can a man like Barack Obama, for instance, deliver a systemic colonic irrigation to 300,000,000 people constipated with fear, apathy, division, and regressive social values?

This raises the question of what a U.S. president is. An excellent article on Reason.com takes a typically thoughtful historical look at what Americans expect from their presidents. Anyone who stays abreast of history or the generational ebb and flow of American government should see no surprises in Gene Healy's exploration of our hopeless, celebrity-driven fascination with the cult of presidency.

The slow, inexorable accumulation of powers the presidency has enjoyed since, oh, Teddy Roosevelt, reaches its logical conclusion in presidents like the current Bush. Or does it?

Are we now so spoiled by the promise of a gigantic titty to suck -- a titty that panders to us from the Oval Office -- that we no longer consider that the president really -- and historically -- isn't all that? He's just a guy who gets elected to make stuff happen according to the rules of the Constitution. Face facts, fellow Americans, the president, no matter how cool he is, can't cure poverty, can't magically subordinate the free markets, can't alter time or wage war on the weather.

But I'm afraid Americans have moved beyond the purity and simplicity of a chief executive and into the land of "Girlfriend, did you see Obama in jeans? He so hot, I feel comfortable with a president who wears jeans."

I told Erik that no number of millions could convince me to assume the responsibilities of the next president. He's fucked if he does, fucked if he doesn't. That's our fault. We expect monarchy-style greatness from a person who's just elected to carry out roughly a page and a half of responsibilities, a person who's authority isn't even addressed until Article II of the Constitution, after Congress' significantly more important role is defined.

WHY MOVE TO NEW ZEALAND?

2008-04-04T17:39:00.000-07:00

In my Why Leave America post, I cast a wide net over the cancers of America that so keenly appall me. On a more positive note, I'd like to address several of the reasons why New Zealand is a much better place to live.

New Zealand is a small country with a small population (just over 4 million people). Its population density is half that of the U.S., a much better indicator of the vastness of its empty spaces than any incongruous comparison of absolute space or population.

As a commonwealth country, irrevocably influenced by its cultural closeness (rather than its cultural distance, as with the U.S.) to Great Britain, its social world consists of good manners and a palpable sense of generosity and respect. My experience over three trips and 12 years leads me to conclude that kiwis are nicer, politer people than Americans, across the board, regardless of socioeconomic status, and in a number of different contexts (sporting events, the wilderness, farms, city pubs, etc.).

The Maori are a vibrant, ever-present people. Contrast this with Native Americans, who, if you happen to know one, could hardly be called vibrant, if we define vibrance as the manifestation of a people's sense of self-determination and righteous inclusion in the governance of a land.

New Zealand is, jokingly, 20 years behind the times. Ha ha, how very funny. But think about what that means, particularly if you remember a time before 24/7 news cycles, internet sycophants, the thoughtless swallowing of the cybernetic lifestyle, and a corporate voice so strong that you cannot walk down the street or drive more than a mile in any city without encountering it. Yes, kiwis have constant news, they have fast internet connections, and they have cell-phones, but, as I pointed out in my post below, we must consider orders of magnitude. If America is a chain-smoker, New Zealand still only enjoys the occasional social cigarette.

New Zealand's climate enjoys the unique stabilizing effect of its sea temperatures and trade winds. The North Island, nearly sub-tropical in its top third, blends into temperate central and lower thirds. Wellington, while too windy and chilly for my tastes, is only several hundred miles south of routinely sunny beaches and hot inland towns. Auckland, which knows rain and wind, is mostly even-keeled, a lush green city on the southern end of the sub-tropical zone.

New Zealand is still enough of an agrarian society that it harbors all the values of working hard for long periods of time on property passed through generations. The net effect of this is a fully integrated and proud working class that balances, if not dwarfs, the socially corrosive influence of high-tech industries.

In 1996, New Zealand changed its electorate system, eliminating 2-party rule and allowing for a fully functional multi-party system. This system consists of the two "traditional" parties, Labour and National, which correspond roughly to our Democrats and Republicans, respectively, plus 6 additional parties, most of them left-wing. ACT and United Future -- never to be confused with each other -- would be considered far less left, while the Green party fills the role of dedicated environmental ideologist.

Are you interested in or able to have a face-to-face conversation with a high-ranking elected official in America? No. Again, orders of magnitude. Helen Clark, NZ's Prime Minister, is often seen having tea or lunch at any old joint in Wellington. Green party MP, Jeanette Fitzsimons, met privately with my boyfriend while we were on vacation in NZ. She even invited him to attend a parliamentary session. No, I did not mistype. You can reach your elected officials in NZ and they will talk to you through means other than a form letter/email written by an intern.

New Zealand, not only because of the mostly non-magical influence of Anglicanism, has yet to fall into the disgusting American trap of giving formal, legal, and institutionalized power to religious idiots who abuse government to advance their (im)moral agendas. I can't stress how important this feature of New Zealand is. Even the United Future party, with its Christian pedigree, has abandoned its "Christian" branding in favor of a more centrist approach. This would be the equivalent of the Republican party shearing off the woolly Christian right, crystallizing radicalism in a fringe party that, in order to succeed, must abandon some of its hardline positions. That, my friends, is the flattening power of the multi-party system.

WHY LEAVE AMERICA?

2008-04-02T18:38:00.000-07:00

Many people who know me know I'm leaving the country for a time. Moving to New Zealand in 2009, that wondrous and simple country where I possibly spent the three most creatively fruitful months of my life, back in 2000, when I wrote the first draft of The Superhero's Closet.

But as beautiful as it is, and as remote and unlike America as its scope suggests, people still ask me why I'm going? I'd like to be eminently positive about my decision, but I'm afraid it's rooted in a lot of foul feelings about my country of birth and, more importantly, about those who people it.

The list you're about to read is about order of magnitude. By this, I mean that, of course, I will encounter in New Zealand some of the "American" problems listed, but I will not experience them to the crushing, demoralizing degree that I experience them here. Here's what I'm leaving -- gladly -- behind:

A vapid consumer culture that rewards garbage.

A collective corporate machinery that is more wealthy and powerful (if you measure mindshare) than the federal government and wields nearly as many rights as individual human beings (remember, you can't sue AT&T for releasing your private records to the government).

Politically acculturated Big Religion -- based on fairy tales, fear, and prejudice -- and its poisonous leakage into civil society and formal governance.

American politics in all of its sleazy, tawdry forms.

The industrial military complex, which accounts for more discretionary spending -- for no defensible reason -- than any other function of government.

A population that gleefully and slavishly focuses on itself and how fantastic it looks in public.

The deplorable delusion most Americans hold that corporate entities "interested" in the green movement replace their need to actively take charge of ecological conservation.

Zappos adverts inside the trays you have to put your shoes in when you're debased at the airport during a perpetual and meaningless threat level of orange (orange, apparently, is the perennial color of insupportable dread).

Most American's don't understand basic American history, world history, or how governments form because of people to support the rights of those people.

An incredibly foolish reliance on a 2-party system that delivers only flavors of ineptitude, arrogance, and self-interest.

Incessant celebrations (facebook, SUVs, the iPhone) of the cynical spawning of new services and products as a proxy for true entrepreneurial innovation.

The comatose state of secular discourse.

American-style television, the ultimate pacifier of children and an authoritative source of news and education for many adults.

Invariably, this list will grow as I think about it, but I will unquestionably add one or more lists that address what I will miss about the States, and why New Zealand is a far better alternative for a person uninterested in the crass, stupid workings of an empire at the peak of its power to inflict cultural damage on itself and others.

CIAO, SIR CLARKE

2008-03-18T22:55:00.000-07:00

Two of the greatest science-fiction novels I've ever read (and would argue have ever been written) are Childhood's End and Rendezvous with Rama. Arthur C. Clarke wrote both of them, among dozens of other stories and novels that, through the 50s, 60, and 70s, endowed to pulp sci-fi a respectable, even haughty, mien.

I remember being 10 or 11, just recently graduated from Heinlein's Red Planet, when I discovered Clarke. And then taking a big ambitious bite a few years later out of Childhood's End. That was one of the first sci-fi books that made me realize science fiction was about vision and commentary, and that many of the issues of which he wrote -- power, conquest, self-interest, governance, fate -- were a primer for the world I didn't understand yet sprawled before me.

Clarke was dry (I don't believe an instant of perspiration occurred in his tales), but he was precise and fully invested in cosmic mystery. I will always adore him for that and hope his inspiring fiction always enjoys the light of day.