The Truth Is Out Where?

Ubiquitous Romney Ads Continue to Annoy Internet Users

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 16:19:00 +0000

My previous post was about how Romney is oddly leading among Republicans in the evangelical state of South Carolina. I suspect this has more to do with aggressive marketing than the idea that South Carolinians are suddenly turning a blind eye towards differences of religious faith. Romney is Mormon, while most of South Carolina is evangelical.

Romney's aggressive marketing tactics were all too evident one day recently when my reading was interrupted by a glaring pop-up ad commanding me to "Join Team Mitt." Well, it happened again today, except this time, it was on a different but equally popular Internet site.

Romney's campaign has spent a lot of money on political advertisements; so much so that he has more than doubled any other candidate in the number of television ads run from Jan. through Nov. of 2007. See chart below. Chart courtesy of The Boston Globe.

Given his shotgun approach to TV ads, it's reasonable to conclude he's doing the same with Internet ads.

There is campaigning, and then there's telemarketing. Mitt Romney (or his campaign, at least) has turned himself essentially into one of those shady, pushy telemarketing operations. My prediction is that, gone unchecked, this onslaught of guerrilla-style advertisement will backfire on poor Mr. Romney (and Ron Paul, for that matter), if for no other reason than they are in poor taste. And I have a feeling I am not the only one out there who disrespects it.

Romney is Everywhere

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 22:34:00 +0000

Today, I went online to read an article at Salon.com, where I was interrupted by a large, slick pop up advertisement for Mitt Romney, the Republican candidate for President. It was incredibly invasive, taking up about one-third of the page; so much so that I couldn't even read my article, much less make it to go away. Everybody knows the candidates are all over MySpace, YouTube, and Facebook, but I haven't seen presidential pop-up ads before, and I'm pretty sure I don't like them. Pop-up ads are bad enough without being forced to look at politicians pandering themselves. While I sincerely hope this isn't an indication of what's to come, political pop-up ads give me no solace. In fact, I maintain that it's just a matter of time before we begin seeing campaign ads on the back of cereal boxes. In my opinion, these tactics cross some sort of line. I'm not sure which line, but I find it extremely annoying. I doubt I'll be voting for him.

Although Romney has not endeared himself to me, it certainly seems that more than a few people in South Carolina intend to vote for him. According to a recent Clemson University Palmetto Poll Romney is currently leading in the Republican race for president in South Carolina. At first glance, one would expect South Carolinians to like Fred Thompson more than Romney, considering that Thompson is a fellow Southerner. This strikes me as odd mostly because the major religious view in the South is generally considered to be Evangelical Protestant; not Catholic, and definitely not Mormon. Mitt Romney is Mormon. Apparently, he understands the Southern sensitivites to the issue, as he plans the week of December 3 to make a speech on his religion at the George Bush Presidential Library and Museum in College Station, Texas. Perhaps it is a sign of progress that South Carolinians may be able to look past religious affiliation when considering a presidential candidate, or perhaps Romney leads in the Clemson poll simply because Romney ads are ubiquitous.

The November 14-27 poll showed that Romney had 17% percent, followed by Fred Thompson at 15 percent, Mike Huckabee (13%), John McCain (11%) and Rudy Giuliani (9%). The top three Democratic candidates are Hillary Clinton (19%), Barack Obama (17%) and John Edwards (12%). There were 900 registered voters in the state, 450 in each party. Twenty-eight percent of Republicans are undecided and 49 percent of Democrats are undecided.

Jimmy Carter Man From Plains, The Documentary

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Thu, 25 Oct 2007 16:05:00 +0000

I was fortunate enough to receive a last-minute invitation to a private screening of Jimmy Carter Man From Plains at the Motion Picture Association of America in Washington, DC. My earliest recollection of any U.S. President was of Jimmy Carter, so I was more than pleased to cancel my plans for the evening in exchange for an intimate glimpse into the 83-year-old man's complex and controversial life.

The documentary was written, produced and directed by Academy Award winner Jonathon Demme. If the name sounds familiar, it's because his biggest claim to fame was as director of the Oscar winning film Silence of the Lambs. He also directed the 2004 version of The Manchurian Candidate, and produced the 2002 Oscar winning film Adaptation. To say that Demme is capable would be a gross understatement, having already won several awards at the Venice International Film Festival for this documentary.

Jimmy Carter Man From Plains (originally entitled "He Comes in Peace") begins with shots of Carter's hometown of Plains, Georgia. From the back seat of an SUV, he travels down a road of red clay pointing out acres upon acres of farm land that has been in his family for generations. It is clear that Carter is most comfortable here as he shakes hands, pats backs, and hugs the local townsfolk at church and at an outdoor fish-fry. It also becomes clear that Plains, Georgia simply isn't large enough to contain the amount of energy Carter emits. He is a spry man who outpaces most other 83-year-olds. In one scene, he turns to his wife Rosalynn as they are bicycling down a dirt road with Secret Service in tow, and says, "Fifteen miles per hour... wanna see if we can hit twenty?" They both laugh and begin peddling faster. Another scene shows him ably hammering nails into two-by-fours and instructing volunteers as they build new homes for victims of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans; all as if it were second nature.

From Plains, Demme takes viewers along for the ride as Carter goes on a gruelling international tour to talk about his controversial book "Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid." Riding shotgun with President Carter provides an extraordinary look into who he is and what motivates him. It doesn't appear to be money. Forgoing first-class, he sits in coach whenever he flies. It also doesn't appear to be popularity. He continues to draw a significant amount of unfriendly fire for advocating against what he views as human rights violations committed against Palestinian people. This is not unlike the way he was criticized for his conservation policies during his presidency. Some have called him a dimwit for taking such stands, but that hardly seems the case, considering he has penned 21 books and was once a nuclear physicist.

If there is a major flaw illuminated in his character, it would have to be that of stubbornness. Regardless of what people say about him or to him, he sticks to his position. The documentary demonstrates that during his book tour he has been accused of plagiarism, called anti-Semitic, and been accused of being unsympathetic to victims of the South African apartheid. Yet he continues to make his case, in what comes across as a seemingly genuine desire for peace. The revelation that he takes turns reading a passage of the Bible aloud with his wife every night (when they are apart, they read the same passage separately) suggests the book has a strong influence on his actions; not surprising considering that the concepts of peace and goodwill toward men are repeated throughout it. A man of his age and experience, he must know that playing the role of peacemaker doesn't come without consequences; that in order to break up a fight, one assumes the risk of taking punches from both sides. President Carter proceeds undeterred.

Perhaps the best summary of the documentary on James Earl Carter, 39th President of the United States, was delivered by a young intern recanting her experience at the Carter Center in Atlanta. She said, "The most important thing I've learned here [at the Carter Center] is that politicians and presidents are humbly human."

Well, unfortunately not all of them are. But regardless of your opinion of the ex-president, you will probably walk away from the film realizing, if nothing else, Jimmy Carter is undeniably "humbly human."

I highly recommend this film.

Rush Hour 3, The Movie

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Mon, 10 Sep 2007 02:08:00 +0000

Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker have at it again with the third installment of their fairly successful Rush Hour movies. While not exactly intellectually stimulating, Rush Hour 3 is better than most movies currently in theaters. As for the plot, it tends to follow the fairly standard police comedy template, so don't expect a surprise ending or a lot of "gotcha" moments. Martial Arts phenom Jackie Chan, who plays that wacky but earnest Chief Inspector Lee, still doesn't speak English very well. And although he's starting to show his age a little bit at 53 now, he still has plenty of amazing fight choreography and stunts left to show off. Chris Tucker, who plays LAPD Detective James Carter, is also a little older, but still has the freakish ability to speak and sing like a third-grade girl. He does a nice job using his falsetto as a distraction for the bad guys in one scene. Nonetheless, Tucker's on-screen antics are captivating; so much so, one has to wonder how much of his acting ability actually comes from his real-life personality. He has so much raw energy that I can only imagine how much havoc a younger Mr. Tucker must have wreaked on his poor school teachers. That said, the chemistry between Tucker and Chan that made the original Rush Hour movie so popular is still alive. It's true that there's a murder mystery somewhere in the mix, but the brotherly tension between these two actors combined with captivating action scenes is enough to make the audience nearly forget about the story line. As in previous versions, during the credits viewers are treated to Tucker/Chan outtakes. Be sure to stick around for them.

If you just want to laugh and have a good time, go see or rent Rush Hour 3. I recommend this movie.

Who's Editing Wikipedia? Virgil Griffith's WikiScanner Knows.

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Wed, 15 Aug 2007 22:02:00 +0000

No matter how much care is taken to avoid the subject, DC residents know it's nearly impossible to attend a cocktail party without inevitably talking about politics. Annoying as it sometimes is, I've learned to live with the fact, and lately, I've taken to amusing myself by discussing some of the lesser known facts about Capitol Hill. Here's one of my favorites: If you're visiting Members of Congress' offices and you suddenly forget which party that Representative belongs to, what is the quickest way to find out? Answer: Glance at the television. If CNN is playing, you're in a Democrat's office. If Fox News is playing, you're in a Republican's office. Plain and simple. What if C-Span is on? Well, in that case, I suggest you open your handy Capitol Hill directory and pretend you are preparing for your next appointment while you look it up.

Members of Congress Edit Wikipedia
Another little known fact I like to share at cocktail parties is that Congressional offices have staff dedicated to ensuring the accuracy of their Representative's Wikipedia entry. This story broke about a year ago, but for some reason it doesn't seem to be common knowledge off Capitol Hill. If you think about it, this is big business for an elected official. Since Wikipedia is wildly popular and viewed with a certain amount of credibility, it makes sense that a politician would go to great lengths to keep scandalous allegations at bay, even if that means having to delete a few unflattering comments. One recent example, as reported by the New York Times, is the discovery that someone using a Barack Obama campaign computer changed the date that Iowa became a state in its Wikipedia entry - not a good thing for someone trying to win over Iowans. Most likely, it was nothing more than a naive error made by a young campaign drone. But the revelation that the edit was made by an Obama campaign computer, now made possible by Wikiscanner, raises questions of sabotage against the presidential candidate. Whereas before, it probably would have gone unnoticed and never been investigated. Congressional Quarterly reports that thousands of Wikipedia edits have been made by House of Representatives computers ranging anywhere from a false claim about one Congressman's early demise by shark attack to a list of Representatives sporting "cleft chins" on the site. Some Hill staffers clearly have way too much time on their hands.

How Wikipedia Works
How is it that anyone can edit their own Wikipedia entry, you ask? To the untrained eye this seems like a very biased approach to managing a resource that should be based solely on facts. In other words, allowing people to edit their own Wikipedia entries seems a lot like letting the fox watch the henhouse. Nonetheless, Wikipedia is a user-edited online encyclopedia. Here is an explanation from Wikipedia's "About" page:

Wikipedia (IPA:
/ˌwikiˈpiːdi.ə/ or /ˌwɪkiˈpiːdi.ə/) is a multilingual, web-based, free content encyclopedia project. Wikipedia is written collaboratively by volunteers from all around the world. With rare exceptions, its articles can be edited by anyone with access to the Internet, simply by clicking the edit this page link. The name Wikipedia is a portmanteau of the words wiki (a type of collaborative website) and encyclopedia. Since its creation in 2001, Wikipedia has grown rapidly into one of the largest reference Web sites.

So, what happens in an open, user-driven forum when you pit the interests of data purists against those who want to skew facts in their own favor? An unseen war ensues. Editing a page on Wikipedia is surprisingly easy. Literally, anyone can do it (to find out exactly how, click here). Thousands of pages are being changed and re-changed by thousands of competing interests constantly.

Undoubtedly, the hope of Wikipedia's creators is that the Internet community's altruism will win out over self interests in the long run. In all fairness, older posts on the site do tend to be heavily moderated by lots of seemingly unbiased editors and are a wealth of accurate information. But how can we be sure we aren't getting skewed data from special interests? We can't, in part because we haven't been able to see who the anonymous editors are on Wikipedia, until now.

Enter Virgil Griffith's WikiScanner: http://wikiscanner.virgil.gr/
Virgil Griffith is a grad student at Cal Tech. More importantly, he's a young hacker who has decided to put his skills to good use in the form of greater transparency for Wikipedia's editing process. Griffith has created WikiScanner, an online software tool that analyzes and identifies anonymous edits made to Wikipedia entries. Before WikiScanner, editors could choose to remain anonymous by selecting anonymous usernames when editing an entry. But because of a Wikipedia policy that allows anyone to download the encyclopedia in its entirety, which includes a history of edits and the Internet Protocol (IP) addresses of editors, Griffith was able to lift the veil of anonymity and publish the results for all to see. IP addresses are unique identifiers of network computers, such as servers, and are usually expressed as a series of numbers. Griffith's software tool connects each IP address logged into the Wikipedia editing history with a name of the owner of that IP address. WikiScanner even shows the date, time, and nature of the edits made by said IP address.

Scores of Special Interests Edit Their Own Wikipedia Entries
The results are fascinating. It turns out that Members of Congress are, by comparison, a small representation of who is looking out for their own interests on Wikipedia. According to Wired News, 34.4 million edits were made by 2.6 million organizations or individuals. Among them: the EPA, the NIH, the Republican Party, the Democratic Party, Diebold, Pfizer, ExxonMobil, WalMart, Fox News, the Rand Corporation, the Church of Scientology, and even the CIA. As you can imagine, the 2008 Presidential candidates are also at it. For a glimpse into the behind-the-scenes debates see the Washington Post.

Wired reports that on November 17th, 2005, an anonymous Wikipedia user deleted 15 paragraphs from an article on electronic voting machine maunfacturer Diebold. The Wikipedia article had previously cited security concerns over the integrity of their voting machines, and information about the company's CEO's fund-raising for President Bush. Using Griffith's WikiScanner, Wired was easily able to determine that those deletions were made by someone at the corporate offices of Diebold. Later, the paragraphs were re-inserted by by another Wikipedia contributor, who advised the anonymous editor, "Please stop removing content from Wikipedia. It is considered vandalism." I guess Diebold didn't want people to be reminded of the controversy surrounding their business ethics.

It isn't difficult to imagine that there are thousands of instances just like the Diebold example (although, I find the fact that the Church of Scientology is editing stuff to be frightening). Any controversial entity or subject will naturally be challenged by opposing perspectives. While all this self serving activity is very predictable, it is no less fascinating to watch from a what-don't-they-want-us-to-know perspective. Just to name a few, financial disclosure forms for public officials, lobbying disclosures, and the availability of campaign contribution data online make it clear we are increasingly living in an age of transparency. These days, transparency equals validity, and Virgil Griffith gets that.

I'm only left with one question after all this: Why wouldn't the CIA be more savvy about leaving thier traceable IP addresses on Wikipedia's logs? Ooops. Not exactly confidence inspiring, is it?

Karl Rove Resigns (about time), Tommy Thompson Drops Out (no surprise), and Mike Huckabee takes Second in Iowa Straw Poll (wait, who?)

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 14:00:00 +0000

Rove Resigns
White House Chief of Staff Karl Rove today emotionally announced his intent to resign by the end of August. The proclaimed mastermind of the Bush Camp was called five times to testify before a Grand Jury investigating the outing of ex-CIA employee Valerie Plame, but never officially charged with any wrongdoing. Congress has been trying for months to get him in front of a committee to testify about the wrongful terminations of U.S. Attorneys, but he is likely to continue to cite Executive Privilege as a way to avoid it. It's unclear whether there was some mystery behind the embattled Chief of Staff's departure. Rove, Bush's friend of 34 years, said it was just the "right time," that he would "deeply miss" the job, and that the Republicans have a good chance of winning the Presidency in 2008. Rove was instrumental in getting out the vote during Bush's gubernatorial and presidential campaigns, and although he hasn't officially backed a candidate, he'll undoubtedly play a significant role in the 2008 election. Given that Bush won't be able to accomplish a lot between now and the election up against a Democratic Congress, Rove will surely be of more value to the Republican Party unencumbered by the duties of his White House job. If he singles out a candidate for support, Democrats should be concerned. If Rove backs Fred Thompson or Rudy Giuliani, they should really be concerned. However, for someone who has been considered by many to be the man behind the curtain, it is interesting that Rove never actually finished college. Reportedly, he's an avid reader of history, and he's been rumored to have five rooms worth of books in his home. So the apparent moral of this story is not only can you become President with "C" average grades, you can also become White House Chief of Staff without a college degree.

What does the last standing Texan of the Bush inner circle plan to do now? He's going dove hunting in West Texas (Dear Mr. Rove, unless you like picking bird shot out of your face, don't take Dick Cheney).

Tommy Thompson Drops Out
Republican Presidential hopeful Tommy Thompson, not to be confused with Fred Thompson, placed 6th in the Iowa straw poll, which is pretty bad considering that Rudy Giuliani and John McCain didn't even participate. If they had, Tommy Thompson may have placed even further down the list at eighth. Thompson announced that the poll didn't turn out the way he expected, so he was quitting the race. Despite the alluring alliteration of his name, the former Department of Health and Human Services Secretary and Governor of Wisconsin for 14 years, had a lot of trouble gaining a foothold in this race. Choosing one's words carefully can make or break one's chances of becoming President, and Thompson certainly made some poor word choices of late. He once told an audience at the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism, "I'm in the private sector and for the first time in my life I'm earning money. You know that's sort of part of the Jewish tradition and I do not find anything wrong with that." After being notified his attempt to cater to the audience flew over like a lead balloon, he attempted an apology that screamed for an invocation of the Please-Stop-Talking rule. Try not to cringe, here's what he said: "I just want to clarify something because I didn't [by] any means want to infer or imply anything about Jews and finances and things... What I was referring to, ladies and gentlemen, is the accomplishments of the Jewish religion. You've been outstanding business people and I compliment you for that." Yeah. That ought to do it.

When he was HHS Secretary, it appears he needed to take on a second job flipping (well, more like squatting on) Alexandria, VA townhouses to supplement his meager $175,000 a year salary. Apparently, he did quite well for himself. See The Washington Post. Presidential material, Tommy Thompson is not, but at least he still has his Wisconsin real estate license to fall back on. And who knows, maybe he'll convince some of the good folks he met at the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism to co-invest with him. Nah, probably not.

Mike Who-ckabee?

Relatively unknown candidate, guitar player, Baptist preacher, former Arkansas Governor and Republican Presidential candidate Mike Huckabee took second place in the Ames, Iowa straw poll this weekend. Although the straw poll is a non-binding exercise, it's given early predictions of Republican candidates since 1979. What's surprising about this win is that Huckabee has pretty much been an afterthought to Americans up to this point, and he only spent less than $200,000 to come in second, as opposed to Mitt Romney who spent more than $2 million in TV ads alone to come in first. What's not so surprising is that demographically, Iowa is somewhat similar to Huckabee's home state of Arkansas, at least in that both places are states where ministers and guitar players are just about as popular as farmers... and possibly chewing tobacco, but I digress. It will be interesting to see if Huckabee can convince Americans he is fit for the job, but it'll be hard for folks to forget what their mammas said about preachers and politicians: don't trust either of 'em. Unfortunately, Huckabee is one of each.

The Bourne Ultimatum, The Movie

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Mon, 06 Aug 2007 14:54:00 +0000

Apparently like almost everyone else this weekend, I caught a showing of The Bourne Ultimatum, a film loosely based on the novel by Robert Ludlum. I left the theater not completely "wow'ed", but not totally disappointed, either. Although there wasn't an amazing plot twist to the story, there were plenty of interesting action sequences to keep me entertained. The Bourne Ultimatum is the third in a series of films depicting the conflicted life of Jason Bourne (Matt Damon), a super-spy brainwashed years ago by the CIA for quite possibly their most secret of secret programs. In this movie, as in the previous ones, viewers are taken on an adventure around the world as Bourne tries to piece together his past in an effort to explain why his latest girlfriend was killed, why he is wanted dead by the Agency, and why he is the amazing fighting and killing machine that he is.

The Bad: If you decide to see this movie, don't expect much character development. While Matt Damon does a fine job convincing viewers he is confused about why these things keep happening to him and how determined he is to get to the bottom of it, the attempt to pair the plighted character with potential love interest Julia Stiles falls flat. Stiles plays a rather unemotional CIA analyst who, for some poorly explained reason, decides to help Bourne escape deadly "assets" or contract killers (essentially what Bourne was before he magically grew a concense) hired by the CIA. Other than to help him escape in one scene, there wasn't any other obvious reason for her to be in film. The "assets" were cast well, however, and did a fine job portraying smooth operating mercenaries who looked like they should be taken seriously. As for the plot, I won't spoil it for you, but don't expect to be surprised by what happens in the end. The average movie watcher will be able to figure it out pretty quickly. Without question, writers left open the possibility of a fourth Bourne film. Smartly so, since it currently holds the box office record for August openings. Perhaps this is because of the massive marketing effort underway, including the hanging of a 50 ft. billboard on the side of the Damon family home in New York. For more on that tidbit, see The Smoking Gun.

The Good: Overall, dialogue was decent with a couple of clever gotcha moments, and the film excelled visually, with one minor exception. The shaky camera effect was used so much that at some point I actually felt slightly dizzy (I overheard others saying the same). On the plus side, there were some absolutely beautiful shots of city-scapes in Madrid, Tangiers, London, Paris, New York and D.C. Also on the plus side, there were several stunning and well choreographed fight scenes, one of which employed the creative use of a hard cover book to inflict major damage on an assailant. Finally, the car chases in this film were refreshingly realistic. Unlike other movies, vehicular damage seemed to progress naturally with each shot during the chase. I recall watching a rear bumper drag the ground in one shot and continued in the next; something that must have been deemed tacky by Hollywood in the past, but something that actually contributed to the visual realism of this unrealistic spy thriller.

If you are a male between the ages of 15 and 25 you will probably love this movie. My guess is that movie execs realized the value of that demographic, which is why it was given a PG-13 rating. If you are a female, well, I doubt you'll object to watching the dashing Matt Damon on the big screen for a couple of hours. If you simply need a quick adrenaline boost, or if you just want to turn off your mind for a bit and allow yourself to become absorbed in a solid action flick, then go see it. Otherwise, you might want to hold on to your $10 and wait for the video.

I marginally recommend this film.

How John Edwards' Hair May Have Cost Him the Presidency

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Thu, 26 Jul 2007 00:50:00 +0000

Recently, I've criticized the value of YouTube's ability to cause a discernible impact on Presidential debates. While I'm still unconvinced it will actually drive voters to the polls, I do recognize its ability to totally sink a candidate. The rapid distribution of negative or embarrassing video footage via the Internet is no different than the wildfire-like spread of a vicious rumor in a small town. That's exactly what happened with the YouTube video depicting John Edwards combing (and recombing) his hair in preparation for a video taping session. To see it for yourself, click on the image below. In the past, a politician could make a social blunder on film and only have to worry about the next time one of the network news outlets decided to drag out their archive footage. Back then, a politician could take some solace in the fact that the public's attention span and the shelf life of the footage would be relatively short. They could hope to eventually recover from the incident. Not so much today.

Before February 2005, when YouTube went live, a critical snippit of video couldn't be so easily uploaded and instantly sent to thousands of people around the world. But it can today, and it just patiently sits there, waiting for anyone whoso desires to send it to all their friends with nothing more than a computer and an Internet connection. John, I'm sorry buddy. You could have been President, if it weren't for this video (not to mention the fact that until recently you used to drop $400 on your haircut as if it was a normal thing to do):

Some may think I am being too harsh Mr. Edwards for something so seemingly insignificant. If this activity had never been captured on video, I would agree. But it's out there depicting a very public man in a very intimate moment. It could easily be titled: "What John Edwards Does When He Thinks Nobody is Watching." Unfortunately, everybody is watching now. If, on the other hand, Edwards had been unwittingly captured on video assisting a small child or rescuing an elderly woman, it would have boosted his image immensely. Today I'd be touting him as either a hero or a genius. But he wasn't caught doing a selfless deed. He was caught playing with his hair. Admittedly, playing with one's hair is not a punishable offense. Of course, we're all guilty of being a little obsessive about our hair at one time or another, like maybe just before our High School prom or as a delay tactic to avoid cleaning our room (most of us grew out of that one). But what's different about this, is that the video subtly communicates to the average viewer an inability to quickly make a decision and stand by that decision; a quality most folks value in a leader. Even if John F. Kennedy was in John Edwards' shoes, the result would have been the same. People end up thinking, "If he spends that much time just trying to get his hair right, how difficult would it be for him to make a critical decision as President?" I realize this line of thought doesn't completely follow. But considering that the average American casually makes stereotypes about women, African Americans, Latin Americans, Asians, homosexuals, and the French, it is absolutely something they'll casually think about John Edwards... and that may have been just enough to cost him the Presidency. If I could offer one piece of advice to candidate Edwards, I'd tell him to relax a little bit with the hair, and for heaven's sake, walk in to the Hair Cuttery once in a while like the rest of us! Who knows, it might do wonders for your campaign.

CNN and YouTube Pull Off Webified Town Hall Debate

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Tue, 24 Jul 2007 14:12:00 +0000

Color me surprised. It seems that CNN and YouTube put on a decent show last night. Although, there were a few ridiculous moments, such as when a makeshift snowman requested in a squeaky voice that the candidates do something to fix global warming so he could live a long frozen life. Most of the questions, however, were pertinent to the debate, and in some cases, thought provoking. Of course, there were the obvious questions like, will you legalize gay marriage; and some unexpected questions like, when is the government going to pay reparations for slavery. Personally I found the most shocking question to be from a young man who asked a vague question about babies, then pulled an assault rifle (machine gun) into camera view, calling it his "baby".

Those who liked the format have said that it allowed for a greater dialogue between the candidates and real people who have real questions. Alternatively, I found the format to be a unique and interesting twist of an old idea; essentially, an electronic version of a town hall meeting. The only real difference is that the questions were presented in prerecorded video format, rather than being asked in person (I guess to keep it real, CNN also had a couple of the YouTube submitters in the audience to reiterate or clarify their questions).

Did CNN need YouTube to accomplish this format? Of course not. They could have easily found submitters and recorded the questions themselves, without the help of YouTube. I suppose the novelty of the idea is that it opens up the pool of potential questions to a much wider audience, which can be either good or bad, depending on your perspective. At first it may seem good in that it might provide a higher sampling of the American public, but then again, as I have claimed in previous posts, the sampling of YouTube users is not truly an accurate sampling of America. Although there are exceptions, the majority of YouTube users are under 30 and less likely to actually get out and vote. They're also more likely to be liberal or align themselves with Democrats, which should prove interesting for the CNN/YouTube Republican Debate planned for September 17 in Florida. In addition to the demographic problem, there are only so many questions that can be asked in 2 hours. Out of the 3,000 video questions submitted, only 39 were played last night. These things call into question the real value of the YouTube format versus that of a traditional town hall meeting. Lastly, there have been several complaints today over CNN's decision not to allow each candidate to answer each question asked. This isn't a problem unique to the YouTube element, but it certainly doesn't help the American public thoroughly understand the position of each candidate.

I'm sure it helps submitters feel important when their question is chosen, but does it accomplish anything to improve the debate process, such as actually making the candidates answer more clearly or directly than they would in another format? No. While the moderator may press the candidate for a more direct answer, the fact that it is presented to them by a video is not likely to magically make them forget all the coaching they've had for handling predictable questions. Sure, there were a few surprise questions thrown at them last night, like "what do you like and dislike about the person to your left," but surprise questions are not limited to a debate in this format. That question was more a function of the selection by the producers than a unique function of YouTube. Similar unexpected or unique questions could be (and have been) asked at traditional town hall meetings.

Just because I found this overly-hyped format to be more style than substance, doesn't mean I didn't thoroughly enjoy myself. I think my favorite moment of the night was when Sen. Joe Biden (D-DE) was asked to say something nice about Rep. Dennis Kucinich (D-OH). His answer went something like this: "I don't like a damn thing about him... (LAUGHTER) Dennis and I have been friends for 25 years... (LAUGHTER) Dennis, the thing I like best about you is your wife. (LAUGHTER)." In case you're wondering, Kucinich, a 60 year old Vegan is married to a significantly taller, thin, 29-year-old British red head. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Good or bad, Joe Biden says the things everyone else has only the courage to think.

As far as debates go in general, I'll admit I did learn a little more about the candidates, even if it didn't completely change my mind about the outcomes. Perhaps the most surprising thing about this marriage of traditional news content and Internet feed was that there were no major technical glitches. Now, if I can just get my Internet connection to work that well...

-CNN/YouTube Presidential Debate Transcript

CNN's Anderson Cooper, YouTube, and the Candidates Debate

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Mon, 23 Jul 2007 19:07:00 +0000

Tonight at 7PM EST, the Democratic Presidential Candidates will duel in South Carolina. CNN could be on the brink of the future of the Internet's role in politics, or they could be on the forefront of a huge flop. No doubt, the location is a good one. The Dem's are allowing South Carolina to have an early primary election this year (January 2008). Some have speculated the move will help African Americans, who make up approximately 50% of the SC Democratic primary voters, to wield a stronger voice in the overall election. No doubt, the venue will be an attention grabber. CNN's plan to buddy up with YouTube, and hand the moderator slot to quite possibly their most-liked news anchor, Anderson Cooper, is likely to draw in a slew of viewers.

But will it be any good? You may have seen me write about the disappointing nature of YouTube political content before. I've even posted a similar gripe about the disappointing nature of MySpace political content. The problem is that a lot of time and resources are being poured into a niche market that is unlikely to yield the handsome returns candidates are seeking. Viral marketing works amazingly well... for the right audience. CNN's plan has been to have YouTube users send in a video of a question they would like to see the candidates answer. I'm sure all the worker bees at CNN are working hard right now to vet thousands of submissions to make sure the debate stays on the rails tonight.

Pardon me for saying so, but, I have a hard time imagining that the majority of these submissions aren't being sent by individuals who either a) will not vote (probably because voting in a Presidential election is not something one can do simply by clicking a mouse), or b) they cannot vote (probably because they are too young, and therefore not registered to vote). A sneak preview by CNN's Jeanne Moost reveals that questions for the event have been submitted by the likes of a talking dolphin, an alien, a crab puppet, and a dancing tube of toothpaste. This is the Internet equivalent of a guy who sneaks into the background of a news interview mouthing "Hi, Mom!" To be sure, it's the epitome of Internet narcissism.

YouTube's political director calls YouTube a "powerful political force." No kidding? Of course he's going to say that. He has a vested interest in generating buzz about YouTube, so he can get more people to use it. That translates into big dollars for YouTube, and what better way to do it than a hotly contested Presidential election? Just because YouTube's political director says its a powerful political force, doesn't make it so. YouTube has a long way to go before its users actually make a discernible difference in the election. Watching is one thing - actually voting is something else. For the under-30 non-voters, or the majority of YouTube users, submitting a video is easy. Voting? Not so much.

-CNN coverage of the debate
-YouTube coverage of the debate

Bush to Undergo Colonoscopy To Search For His Head

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 18:02:00 +0000

Everybody panic. Cheney temporarily will be President! Don't panic. Run. Don't believe me? Click on the CNN story below. Update: They found six polyps. No sign of his head. Years from now, we'll find out what Dick Cheney actually did to change the course of history during those few hours.

http://www.cnn.com/2007/POLITICS/07/20/bush.colonoscopy/index.html

Stardust, The Movie

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 13:47:00 +0000

I watched a sneak preview of the movie Stardust several weeks ago, and decided I liked it so much I needed to see it again. Usually, I am not a fan of movies presented in a fantastical style, but this one was an exception. Visually, it somewhat reminded me of Big Fish, but there is much more to this movie than meets the eye. It was (Sappiness Alert!) a beautiful love story that just kept getting better (no, I did not read the novel by Neil Gaiman, which meant that I couldn't be disappointed in the adaptation). More than a simple story of love between two people, it really told a story of family and heritage, and it did so very well. Plenty of modern comic interjections kept my short attention span interested, and a bit of sleight of hand kept my brain's spoiling predictions at bay.

At first, I questioned the wisdom of casting Claire Danes in her role, someone whose acting skills I have not liked in the past, but she played her part remarkably well. Also at first, I thought lead Charlie Cox as Tristan was somewhat awkward on screen, but I was convinced by the first act, and I've now concluded that we'll see more of him in the future. Finally, I'd gladly pay $10 just to see Robert DeNiro play his part again. It was such a surprise, and so well done, that I have placed a $20 bet with my girlfriend that he'll be nominated for an Academy Award for this role. I probably should have bet her that the movie itself would get an Oscar. After watching it a second time, I now predict that Stardust will resonate with today's generation in cult-like fashion, the same way The Princess Bride did with my generation. Oh, and did I mention Michelle Pfeiffer is in it?

I highly recommend Stardust.

Special thanks to Sherin of Bugle's Planet Daily for the movie passes!

Dear Candidates: YouTube, No.

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Tue, 17 Jul 2007 00:47:00 +0000

Sure. YouTube is great because it lets people post video content that wouldn't otherwise be viewable by the general public. But YouTube also stinks because it lets people post video content that wouldn't otherwise be viewable by the general public. Case in point: the hideously annoying "I Love You" music videos for at least three major presidential candidates. In case you haven't seen them, I'll supply the nausea for you now.

First there was I Got A Crush On Obama. Then we had the displeasure of enduring all the back and forth of a spat between The View's Joy Behar and Obama Girl Amber Lee Ettinger over Behar's "... that's real hookerville" comment. Then, Hott 4 Hill showed up.

And now, just to take the cat fight one step further, we get Obama Girl Vs. Giuliani Girl: The Trailer.

I don't know about you, but after I picked my jaw up off the floor, I felt like I was going to explode... and not in a good way. Where do I start? You know what? Never mind. I think the videos speak for themselves. Note to candidates: you'd be wise to find a way to put a lid on this nonsense. All it does is hurt your image. Even if your campaigns aren't behind it, people will assume they are. Note to video creators: If you make an R-rated version of the pillow fight between the Obama Girls and the Guiliani Girls, I'll erase this blog.

Dear Candidates: MySpace, No

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Sat, 14 Jul 2007 18:24:00 +0000

If you watch the news you have probably noticed a trend of presidential candidates posting MySpace pages, especially by the crowded Democratic field. MySpace is a potential gold mine for advertisers with estimates of anywhere from 20 to 75 million original users. Who wouldn't be attracted to an audience of those numbers? This is precisely why MySpace is bombarded with messages from peddlers of Ipods, Macey's gift cards, Web cams, and of course, porn. Access to huge a huge audience is also why so many companies use direct mail to advertise their wares. Frankly, I am tired of having to cull through all the garbage just to get to my real mail. But I have to admit the direct marketing method is effective, even if annoying. The sad fact is, if it didn't work, they wouldn't do it. P.T. Barnum was credited with saying, "There's a sucker born every minute." Unfortunately, out of the millions of MySpace users there are more than a few suckers willing to jump through hoop after hoop in pursuit of such glimmering fool's gold.

But can political candidates capitalize on this marketing trend? Right Wing Republicans mastered the art of the direct mail campaign years ago, and the handsome return on their investment, at least in part, was more than a decade's worth of occupation in both houses of Congress. Thanks to my conservative leaning mother, I was fortunate enough to intercept quite a number of these pieces of propaganda during that time period. I didn't know it at the time, but today I think of it as opposition research. They typically came in the mail as a tri-fold newsletter of sorts printed on cheap colored paper with a monochromatic picture of some demagogue's face joined by some shocking doomsday scenario blamed on the liberal Democrats. In my personal opinion, such propaganda more resembled pulp fiction than political advertising. Today, the Democrats are attempting a similar strategy using the Internet, perhaps more successfully than Republicans. The appeal of the Internet is easy to see. Aside from programming costs, it's virtually free, and the potential number of eyeballs it can reach is staggering. Not to mention the fact that the distribution process is as close to instantaneous as you can get. But is it really an effective platform for politicians? Perhaps for some, but definitely not for others. If you assume the majority of MySpace users are between 15 and 30 years old, it would also be safe to assume the majority of them are more liberal in their political views simply because of their average age. This would make MySpace a better platform for Democrats than Republicans. I find it difficult to imagine a lot of wealthy senior citizens or Christian Coalition-ers spending their afternoons with a a cup of tea in one hand and their laptop in the other, browsing MySpace profiles and submitting friend requests.

During the 2000 Presidential campaign, there were staggering claims about the growth of an online community made by Howard Dean's campaign. It was billed as the hip thing to do. In cult-like fashion, scores of young, energetic, green-minded people donated money to his campaign via e-commerce. Indeed, he raised a lot of money in a short period of time, which had never really been done on such a grand scale before. But did it help him become President? No. All of his hopes were suddenly dashed by one painfully awkward primal yell, which was ironically widely distributed on an OLDER form of media: network news. You could say in this case, television killed the Internet star.

To analyze this relatively new form of political advertising, I decided to investigate whether the candidates' MySpace profiles would have any discernable influence on how I intend to use my vote. So, I set out to "befriend" a few of the Presidential wannabe's, MySpace style. There certainly wasn't any hard science behind my approach, but I certainly enjoyed the adventure.

Barack Obama
The first candidate I saw was Barack Obama. His picture looked friendly, he was in the middle of some animated gesture, and surrounded by lots of people. Not bad. Very charismatic. Why not? A guy like that seems worthy of being my MySpace friend, I decided. So, I took the plunge and popped the question. And then, I waited to see what would happen. Much to my disappointment and annoyance, Mr. Bright Eyes turned out to be a complete SPAM machine, telling me every single day where he would be next on his campaign trail. NEWSFLASH OBAMA! I'm not going to travel to Connecticut to stand in a crowd of sweaty, desperate, dillusional people in the hopes that you will shake my hand, or give me the Bill Clinton combo (you know, a partial thumbs-up, a wink, a slightly bitten bottom limp, and nodding head for extra emphasis). But thanks for filling me in on what you've been up to, Democratic Crusader. And by the way, will you please stop driving a giant Chrysler 300 M? It's bad for your national image. It may play well in some Chicago neighborhoods, but when all the other candidates are bragging about driving hybrids to reduce our dependence on foreign oil, you look like you are out of touch with the rest of America. Careful, it'll come back to haunt you. Possibly in the same way John Kerry's incredible wealth hurt his reputation with the average deeply indebted tax paying citizen.

Chris Dodd
Next I decided to befriend Chris Dodd. Having followed his career for a number of years, and having been offered a job once by his Chief of Staff, I had high hopes for him. No such luck. Talk about boring! His pictures looked like the kind my family had made at Sears when I was a kid. You remember; the photography booth was located by the customer service department, and they had those fake vinyl backdrops just like the vinyl shades in our home, only bigger, and with pictures on them. We were particularly fond of the library wall backdrop that featured a bunch of law books, mostly because we couldn't afford access to a real lawyer's office. But I digress. As I looked at Dodd's picture, I had to ask where are all the people? Where is the live action pose? Chris, please don't look at me over your crooked arm like that. It's so high school yearbook photo. And judging by the comments from your MySpace friends, like Johannes from Switzerland, you're not getting a lot of the AMERICAN vote, so I'm sorry, I can't align myself with you.

Dennis Kucinich
Disappointed, and in a weakened state, I momentarily turned to Dennis Kucinich. WHAT A FREAKSHOW! What is wrong with the shape of this man's head? Is it just my imagination, or is it somewhat alien-like? (In case you are wondering who the Presidential candidate is in this photo, he's the one in the middle giving the peace sign.) Not to mention that I'm pretty sure I saw a penis growth ad somewhere in his comment space. Oops! Slight vetting oversight by the campaign drones. Listen, I'm sorry Dennis, maybe if I was really drunk... and then chloroformed, but not today.

John Edwards
John Edwards seems like a fairly respectable guy. He kindly accepted my MySpace friendship request. Then I looked at his page. His profile pic looked like it was ripped right from the 1993 romantic comedy "Dave" starring Kevin Kline. I mean, look at the size of the gigantic American flag in the background. It's surreal! And I can only assume the angle of the shot was designed to make us look up at him as if we were on the front row of a KISS concert. He might have pulled the whole thing off it wasn't for his hair. Hello??? Highly paid campaign consultants??? If you are going to go to such lengths, at least put one of those giant fans on him, and let his hair whip around a little bit - you know, like they do with models. Maybe the fact that he spent $400 of his campaign money to pay some Liberace barber with diamond encrusted scissors and a platinum spray bottle to plaster every last strand in place makes me biased. I don't know. Really, I find myself fighting the urge to pat him on the head and then mess it all up like a little kid. And the tagline next to his profile pic is "For America." No shit? Really? Are you sure you're not for the Canary Islands or Zimbabwe or something? Truly original and inspiring, man. Thank you for being such a bold example of leadership. Here's a tip: If you really want to look like a man of the people, go to the HairCuttery.

Hillary Clinton
Exhasperated, I briefly looked at Hillary, but just couldn't bring myself to ask her. She looks professional enough, but not all that friendly in her pics. I don't really get the impression that she wants to be friends with me. Besides, she kind of is the person we're going with right now. I mean, we all like Bill, and if Bill asks us to vote for Hillary, we're going to do it. End of story. We owe him that much. After all, he gave us vast right wing conspiracies, a sex scandle with an intern, a semen stain on a dress, wild tales of cigars, a couple of cool moments with his saxophone, and he managed to balance the fucking budget all at the same time. Write this down: Hillary is going to get the Democratic nod. So, in essence, that makes me adding her as my Myspace friend like saying, "I'm going to buy a Honda today!" Nobody really cares.

John McCain
John McCain is not a Democrat, but I probably would have voted for him if he'd won the Republican nomination in 2000. Sadly, we all remember how that turned out, with Bush, Jr. getting the Republican nod and somehow eeking out a win thanks to our two friends named Hanging Chad and Electoral College. But that's a debate for another time. If there is such a thing, John McCain is actually one of the good politicians. He's always been consistent when standing up against questionable fundraising practices, pork barrell politics, unsavory earmarks, and misuse of taxpayers' money. Unfortunately, I know too much about him. Some insiders have privately joked that the former P.O.W. would secretly like to torture people himself. He's certainly made no attempts to hide his furor in public committee hearings. Once can imagine how he reacts behind closed doors. At first glance, this may not have much to do with his MySpace profile, but a closer look reveals much more. Notice that his banner logo features a military-styled star with sharp javelins on either side - a subtle detail, but one that effectively communicates a strong image for National Defense. His MySpace page sports an all black background, and his picture evokes an authoritative feeling. But the thing that actually scares me is what he posted as his favorite television show: 24. Have you SEEN 24?? Do you KNOW how many people Jack Bauer has tortured, maimed, and killed on that show??? I mean, why in the hell would he allow anyone on his campaign to do this? I love 24, but for Pete's sake, put Ozzie and Harriet or something. I can't stop thinking about McCain teetering on the edge of his couch, gripping a fistful of popcorn in one hand, clutching a beer in the other, and spitting in a red-faced gargling scream, "C'mon Jack! Get those bastards! Get those baaaasstaaaards!!!" Wow. Suddenly, I don't want McCain anywhere near nuclear weapons. His favorite book is listed as For Whom The Bell Tolls. What a proficy. I'm afraid it tolls for thee, McCain, it tolls for thee. Update: Since I originally wrote this piece, McCain has relieved himself of several of his campaign staff. Good call. Hmmm. Maybe he read my blog.

Joe Biden
Finally, I stumbled across a fairly realistic photo of Sen. Joe Biden. And finally, I am pleased. So what if he's maybe a little too masculine for 68 years old? So what if he maybe rubs a little testosterone gel on his hands at night? He says the things that other candidates are thinking but are too scared to say like, "The President is leading us off a cliff!" In fact, recently he was highlighted on CNN as telling a reporter in South Carolina, "We're going to shove it down his throat," in response to a question about the Iraq bill that President Bush vetoed. Then again, the very same Senator was also caught on YouTube saying, "You cannot go to a 7-Eleven or a Dunkin' Donuts unless you have a slight Indian accent. I'm not joking." Alas, just because I personally like him doesn't mean he'll get the nomination. Far from it, in fact. Although this kind of outspokenness may garner some respect (by me, mostly because I find it a refreshing departure from the norm), it doesn't really tend to appeal to the masses.

Conclusion
My brief foray into MySpace politics was interesting, and obviously in no way an indication of who is likely to become our next President. I must conclude after this experience that MySpace political profiles are probably an utter waste of time for the candidates, even if they are highly entertaining for me. They may provide some additional, albeit heavily-vetted, information, but that doesn't mean they'll actually get people to the polls, where it matters. Although, I don't have any solid demographic data to back up these claims, I'm willing to bet my lunch that the majority of MySpace users are either a) inelligable to vote, b) don't actually know how to register to vote, or c) simply care more about talking smack with their friends than actually getting involved with politics.

Let me leave you with this one final thought. If nothing else, you should at least enjoy the comedic value of these MySpace profiles today, because in the next presidential election, not only will they hijack every networking site on the Internet, you'll also be reading their shit on the back of your cereal box.

Next Time, Wear A Bathing Suit

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 19:43:00 +0000

After my father retired from a career in law enforcement, he decided to do something delightfully unusual. He bought a ski boat. He had always been fairly adventurous, but it was usually mixed with a healthy dose of caution. As a police officer, he'd spent a significant amount of time sweeping up the pieces of other people's broken lives; pieces which occasionally were the tragic consequences of careless and over-zealous thrill-seeking. Both parents tried very hard to promote a sense of safety in their children, probably to the point of appearing as alarmists to outsiders. In their eyes, not only should we be safe, but we should also be examples for others, no matter how well or how poorly we pulled it off (by poorly, I refer mostly to myself). My guess is that this was partly because of an innate desire to maintain some semblance of integrity and also partly because we lived in a small town where word travelled fast. Before I left the graces of our home on Bame Circle, Dad reached the top of his career. He was in a somewhat publicly-visible position and was quick to remind us that members of the press, just as they always have, loved a juicy hypocritical public official story. Because of this, we were keenly aware of the potential consequences of our actions. For example, we knew it wouldn't look very good if we had been found in a car accident not wearing our seat belt just after the state passed a law making it mandatory, and I knew it probably wouldn't look good if I'd accidentally shot myself or my friend in the leg because I refused to observe mandatory hunter safety rules, and I also knew it definitely wouldn't look good if I was caught by the local police one night at a state park in the cab of a steamed-up Chevy with my half-clothed girlfriend... (Dad, no matter what you've heard, it isn't true). The point is, we all tried to be fairly cautious. So it came as a bit of a surprise to me that after the years of preaching about safety and caution, he actually purchased this fast, red and white ski boat.

It actually turned out to be a good decision. We've had more fun as a family out on the lake than we ever did in those arduous, tenuous station wagon trips to see the grandparents in Lubbock, Texas. There are so many nice things to enjoy in the boat. The water is peaceful, the air is clean, the setting sun dances on the ripples like sequins at a Neil Diamond concert. Mom doles out maternal orders and gets to drink her Diet Coke from the comfort of a Captain's chair. My sisters get to wear their bikinis, make some tan lines, and show off a little for their husbands. My brother-in-law gets to show off his knee-boarding skills. One sister actually slalom skis. Everybody enjoys riding the tube. And Dad is a pretty good skier himself, whenever he decides to trust someone enough to take the helm of his shiny new investment.

During a visit home a couple of summers ago, the whole family decided to go to the lake to partake in just such activities. I'd been a bit cranky because of some personal drama I was experiencing, but reluctantly, I decided to go. I really wasn't in any mood to ski, or talk, for that matter. But I figured being amidst so much natural beauty and watching my family have fun would do me some good. I was so set, however, on not participating that I didn't take along swim trunks. After about an hour of raucous water sports combined with a heavy rate of beverage consumption, naturally, I felt an urgent need to relieve myself. The pristine lake was devoid of man-made blemishes, like restroom facilities. And I wasn't about to ask Dad to drive his new boat all the way to shore at the risk of damaging it on the shallow rocks. I also wasn't thrilled about the idea of being blamed for delaying every one's fun, while they waited for me to seek out the perfect tree to hide behind. Besides, knowing my family, they'd probably conspire to leave me there simply for a good laugh. It was clear. I knew what I had to do, and immediately, regret sank in. I kicked myself for not wearing swim trunks. Stupid, stupid, stupid. If I'd had them, I could have simply dived into the water and relieved myself inconspicuously (don't say, "gross," because you know you've done it). The pressure was really building. I'd been drinking liquid since I got into the car, and the trip to the lake was about an hour and a half long. So, in all, I'd been consuming fluid at a pretty quick rate for about 3 hours. It was all I could think about. There was no way I would last until the end of the day. I really, really had to go.

I sat at the stearn of the boat while everyone else was near the aft watching one of my sisters buoy herself for the next launch. I just couldn't wait any longer. This was my window of opportunity. 'How bad could it really be,' I thought, 'Besides, anyone who has grown up in a large family has bore witness to much, much more embarrassing things.' 'Should they turn around to see what was happening,' I figured, 'the shock will be enough to generate a momentary chuckle and let them know I must be feeling a little better.'

The boat rocked side to side. I boldly steadied myself atop the railing, unzipped my shorts, and letting an arched fountain flow - from the tip of the bow into the waters below. It was the kind of relief that can be described as nothing short of glorious. It was instant. And in truth, I was somewhat proud of myself for accomplishing such a daring balancing act. If they could have seen my face, they would have witnessed an expression of bemusement as I gleefully imagined their own looks of shock and disgust behind me. Suddenly, I was a kid again. I chuckled mischeviously.

During my exuberance, I hadn't counted on how incredibly vulnerable I was at that moment. Before I could begin to react, I heard the squish, squish of heavy, wet footsteps rapidly pounding in my direction. And then they were silent. There was absolutely nothing I could do. I was paralyzed in mid-stream and completely defenseless. As my head turned, it only reached my shoulder, when I realized I was no longer on the boat. Someone pushed me.

I don't know if you've ever been rudely interrupted in the middle of a bodily function, but in case you haven't, let me tell you: It puts you squarely in a quandary. This is something you'd think, as intelligent humans and creatures of habit, we'd have complete control of. It's something we do every single day if our lives, several times a day. We all should know how to do this by now. But no! There's no switch. You can't stop midstream. There's no putting Jack back in the box. Once the floodgates are open, they're open.

My immediate thought was, "Which one of you jerks... " But there was no time to dwell on that - I wasn't finished. The remainder of what happened seemed to take place in slow motion. A long "noooooooooooooo" echoed into the distance. As I careened toward the water, one hand instinctively reached out to brace for impact, the other maintained a grip on the appendage I'd remorsefully unleashed. In what looked like a horribly disfigured dive, I rotated slightly to avoid falling headlong into my own stream, which by then, was beginning to sprinkle from the sky.

Stunned and embarrassed, I lingered below the surface for a moment and wondered if there could be any greater humiliation than this - turns out the answer is yes, but that's another story. Recalling that the video camera battery had drained just prior to the incident, I thanked Heaven for the small sliver of dignity afforded me. By the time I emerged, the entire family was leaning over the edge of the boat crying with laughter. Some had hands over their mouths, others were arched back in a loud cackle, and all were pointing in my general direction. Indignantly, I asked for a moment of privacy to finish the job, before I crawled back aboard.

As ugly as this experience was, I couldn't help but laugh about it. I've been told, and I imagine it's true, that the image of me falling while peeing was pretty hilarious. I guess the fact this story has been told every time I've visited home since, says it must have been. Admittedly, I was in a foul mood before that. I think it was my family's way of telling me to snap out of it. If there's a moral to this story, I suppose it's this: one should always wear one's swim trunks when going to the lake, even if one doesn't think they'll need them. Oh yeah, and the other lesson I learned was: I know who did it and paybacks are going to be Hell:-)

Jay Frilly

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 19:32:00 +0000

I grew up on a dead end street in a small-town suburban middle class neighborhood. The beauty of that neighborhood was that it was filled with kids, the street saw very little traffic, and pets were allowed to run just as free as the children. On any given day, one could find a small pack of energetic, curious kids and playful pups anywhere on that quarter mile slice of suburban pie. Bame Circle was our whole world. We built bike ramps on that street, went sledding on that street, shot fireworks, played pranks, flirted, and even fought on that street. There are so many memories attached to Bame Circle I have a hard time deciding which ones to recant. Some of my most vivid memories, however, are about a boy who lived across the street.

Jay Frilly was fair. Generally everybody in the neighborhood agreed on that point. When I say fair, I don't mean in terms of ideology. Jay was a shade of ecru that Michael Jackson would kill for. His hair, including his eyebrows, were so light he looked as if he had just witnessed the very face of God before descending from Mt. Sinai. Seriously, if the boy wasn't 14, Cecil B DeMille would have considered casting him as Moses in The Ten Commandments. I believe he was the first person I'd ever seen carry a milk jug-sized bottle of sunblock, and I am pretty sure he got it directly from the scientist who invented it after being part of a clinical study on really, really white people. His inability to stand in direct sunlight for more than 10 minutes is quite possibly what attributed to the 8th grader's adult-like beer belly, his penchant for reenacting nearly every episode of Julia Child & Company, and possibly even his annoying habit of quoting Grey Poupon commercials in a British accent. I don't believe I've ever wanted to smite someone more than after the 38th time he said, "Pardon me, would you have any Grey Poupon?" If you don't know what I am talking about, click on the video below to get an idea.

As much as it may seem that I am disparaging his character, I was actually quite fond of Jay. Jay was a good friend. He was dependable, kind, and smart - a little quirky, but really smart. He was the kind of guy you'd want on your team if you were playing Trivial Pursuit. And as you will soon understand, he was also one of the most loyal and forgiving people I knew.

I am very grateful for the memories Jay left me. I'm fond of memories like the time he hid quivering in my closet when I purposely lit a giant bottle rocket in my room just to see his reaction. Don't worry, I pulled the fuse out of the thing before it was too late, but not without severely burning my fingers first... and my mother's new carpet... which I payed for dearly, but that's another story. I'm also fond of memories like the time he tried to convince me he'd had sex at the age of 14 - something I'll never forget. When I challenged this notion by asking him to prove it by description he told me, "It feels like wet cotton," which was a fairly convincing description to this 12 year old. And I am embarrassed to say it did somewhat shape my notion of what to expect later. Call me a stickler for details, but I was left a little more than miffed when I discovered "wet cotton" was a slightly inadequate description of the experience, and also when my girlfriend wouldn't stop asking me why in the world I mumbled those words. By the way, Mom and Dad, if you are reading this, that was many, many years later, of course.

In some ways I looked up to Jay. He was a little older than me, and he was very knowledgeable about worldly things. Unlike me, he got to stay up late and watch movies like Clash of the Titans and play Dig Dug on his Atari 800X. But he was also missing something. Jay wasn't the most popular kid on the block, and it stood to reason he was probably not very popular in school, either. He didn't talk very much about his classmates, and they never came to visit him at home.

Attention to the details of his personal appearance, such as missed belt loops, seemed to be an afterthought or an inconvenience for him. Avoidance of haircuts led to a mad scientist look, avoidance of physical activity led to the wearing of Husky jeans, avoidance of tying shoelaces led to road rash-induced spills down his pebbled sriveway (a problem that was later remedied by the mid-1980's introduction of Velcro to shoes, of which he was an involuntary early adopter at the insistence of his poor mother), and an overall lack of confidence led to a host of other problems.

One day before we were to get a ride to school, he turned into a nervous wreck, after not being able to scrape together $1.35 for lunch. We were running late, and Jay was inexplicably preoccupied with turning over couch cushions. Out of frustration I asked him, "Why in the world are you sweating over a buck thirty-five when you already have a lunch sack in your hand? I know you like to eat, but this is ridiculous." Reluctantly, he revealed that a bully had been stealing his lunch money, threatening to beat him up if he didn't fork it over. Apparently, this was happening almost every day. Naive as I was, I couldn't believe someone would commit such an injustice, nor did I understand how he could allow it to continue. Why didn't he tell someone? If it were me, I would have gone down punching and clutching every last red cent, mostly because money was scarce. Not to mention that my own father would have kicked my ass if he found out I was allowing someone to take advantage of me like that. At least that's what he told me. Trust me, I was more afraid of Dad than any school bully. His method must've worked, because never once did I let anyone steal my lunch money. But I knew Jay had never been told anything like that, and he had never been in a physical fight in his life. He'd only been picked on, and he took it. I also knew there was no way I could defend him against 8th graders by myself, so I decided to do what I considered the next best thing. I decided I would empower him. I would teach him to be a real man. So what if neither of us could actually grow facial hair? He had to learn to defend himself, and in order to do that, he needed to gain some courage.

As I pondered exactly how to accomplish this, I surveyed his weaknesses. I couldn't fix his unusually fair complexion, and I seriously doubted I could interest him in contact sports. I pondered what would get him on the road to being a man faster than anything else. Suddenly, I had it. Why didn't I think of it before? I would teach him to ride a bike! Yes. Jay was in the 8th Grade and didn't have the foggiest notion how to ride a bicycle. We all knew how to ride bikes. My 7 year old sister knew how to ride a bike. On Bame Circle, bikes were our cars. They were our General Lee's. They were our freedom. Being able to ride with the pack on Bame Circle would surely help him build the confidence he needed to defend his lunch money.

Jay's little brother Jimmy had a little red bike, but Jay never wanted one. He was too afraid to ride it, but I was determined to fix that. I wasn't about to let him weasel out of this. Of course, I also wasn't going to risk damaging MY bike during the learning process, so the choice was clear. We'd have to use little Jimmy's. There were a couple of minor technical issues with Jimmy's bike. First, it was about half the size of a normal person's bike. Second, it had a couple of those pesky plastic training wheels on it. The latter problem was easily remedied with just a few flicks of the crescent wrench I snuck out of Dad's toolbox, never mind the look of horror on poor little Jimmy's face.

It took a lot of coaxing and a little commanding to eventually convince Jay to slowly and hesitantly walk the pint-sized red toy down his steep pebble driveway and onto the long downward sloping road in front of it. Fearing the worst, his head hung like a culprit making his way to the gallows. I instructed him to mount the saddle just to get a feel for the machine. As you may have guessed, he protested, in much the same quivering way he did when I lit the fuse on the giant bottle rocket, but I didn't let it phase me. He lifted his thick leg, and the crotch of his Huskies, which had fallen low enough to show the pale beginnings of the crack in his rump, snagged on the back of the saddle causing him to almost pull me and the bike over. His second attempt was successful. As I stood straining to brace him and explained the principles of centrifugal force, a ghostly look fell upon his face. I thought,'That's probably just what he really looks like in full daylight,' I dismissed the concern.

"Now, I want you to trust me, Jay."

Whimpered chants of "No, no, no," persisted between my sentences.

"You take the handle bars..."

He protested, "No, no, no, no..."

"And just move them around 'till you feel comfortable with the way they work."

"No, no, no, no..."

"I'm going to hold the back of your seat to keep both you and the bike upright."

"No, no, no, no..."

"All you have to do is steer."

"No, no, no, no..."

"I am just going to walk along side you down the hill"

"No, no, no, no..."

"I won't let go. I promise..."

And with that, we were off. Naturally, the handle bars were shaky at first, but for a moment, he was so concentrated on the task at hand he forgot to say his favorite word, merely groaning through a grimaced face instead. Things seemed to be going reasonably well, so I sped up to a brisk walk. As we slowly increased speed, the handle bars became slightly less shaky and the bike became a little more upright. Considering myself an expert bike rider, things were going exactly as I had expected. So, maintaining a firm grip on the back of the seat, I broke into a light jog. Jay stopped whining as he began to feel the laws of physics taking over and the wind gently whipping his mad scientist hair. I cheered him on with, "That's great! You're doing it! You're really doing it!"

I was barely touching the back of the saddle, and the moment had all the markings of a glorious triumph. Unfortunately for Jay, my parents forced me to watch a PBS special on the potency of the "Sink or Swim Method" when learning languages. I was convinced that such a method would be applicable across other platforms. There was only one way to find out for sure. Without a doubt, the defining moment of this story was my decision to make him swim. In an endorphin-laden rush of excitement and confidence, I launched Jay forward with a swift shove. He began to sail away from me straight as an arrow. A host of angels rejoiced in song. It was absolutely beautiful and I beamed with pride as he traveled down that long slow hill.

But that moment didn't last very long. Jay was beginning to pick up a surprising amount of speed, and the curb at the end of the street was quickly approaching. Suddenly, I realized that in all the excitement I'd forgotten to teach him one critical element of bike riding: how to use the brakes. Within a heartbeat, the situation took a detrimental turn. In a panic, his handle bars began to sway wildly, causing the bike to take ever wider deviations outside his once beautifully straight line. I yelled out to him, "Use the brakes! Pedal backwards! Pedal backwards!!" But it was no use. The runaway momentum caught up with him as he gave the bars a hard yank to the right in an apparent attempt to turn. Without question it was an unnatural movement. Nothing good could come of it. At the time he turned the wheel, he'd also desperately tried to plant his feet in an effort to stop. But it was no good. Jay flipped over the handle bars flying headlong toward the curb ending up in a tangled mess of limbs and red steel. It was wreckage of the kind Mothers Against Drunk Drivers could have used in an ad to convince people never to drive, dunk or sober. I was scared. It was over. And the mission was a failure.

For a moment he laid on the ground motionless. At first, all I could do was stare, mouth agape, hoping it was merely a flesh wound. Slowly he got to his feet, staggered toward me with a disoriented gaze, and let out a long slowly building siren-like wail. Splotches of blood were dribbling down his white shirt. I ran to him.

Now, I must caution that what you are about to read is not for the weak of constitution. If you are easily offended or made ill by graphic material, PLEASE STOP READING NOW. What I saw when I got to him would be branded in my mind forever. Much to my disbelief, Jay's two front teeth had literally been broken in half. Blood was pouring and splattering outward from his mouth. Stringy yellow nerves dangled from what was left them. The nerves flapped in and out with the breath of each heavy scream. Jay immediately went into shock and collapsed to the ground.

I am amazed to this day by what happened next. My father, a police officer, rounded the corner in his unmarked Crown Victoria on his way home from work. When he saw Jay was hurt, he jumped out of his car, picked him up, picked up the bottom halves of his teeth, and rushed him to the hospital. I was left standing in the middle of the street experiencing my own kind of shock; the kind that comes with heavy doses of worry, guilt, and gratitude all at once. That day my father set the standard for the term "emergency responder." That day, he was Jay's superhero. If he hadn't been there to literally pick up the pieces, the situation would have been much worse.

I'm not sure which medical or dental procedures were used to put Jay back together again, but he was back home the next day. He wouldn't speak to me for about a week, though. Eventually, I was able to convince him to come by and say hello to my parents. In an effort to smooth things over, I cracked a corny joke that only 6th and 8th grade boys find funny (probably something about farts), and he smiled. When he did, I felt my knees buckle a little and suddenly I got a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach. Apparently, whoever had "fixed" Jay's teeth must have used Krazy Glue to fuse them back together! To my dismay, there was a solid, dirty-yellow line of epoxy horizontally separating his two front teeth into top and bottom halves. I must admit, aside from the accident, it was the most bizarre and unfortunate thing I'd ever seen.

Jay lived in the neighborhood for a few more years, epoxied teeth and all, and somehow our friendship continued. Although, I wouldn't have blamed him for hating me forever. I single-handedly permanently branded this poor guy in a very unsightly way. To say I lost sleep over the accident, would be, to borrow one of Jay's over-used quips, "the understatement of the year!" I suspect the yellow line across his grill didn't help his social standing in school much, and of course, I never again tried to teach him how to ride a bike. Today, I have no idea where Jay is, or what he does for a living, or what he even looks like, but the last time I saw him he still had that yellow line across his front teeth. The only way I've been able to cope with this over the years has been by reassuring myself that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. But even that thought ultimately proves to be unsettling. From time to time, I find myself bolting upright in a cold sweat awakened by a recurring nightmare. I am standing in a dimly lit alley staring up at a pale hulking steroid-raged figure. He brandishes a pair of large shiny vice grips and says in a booming, vindicated and satisfied voice, "Hello, Matthew Bailey, It's been a long time." And then... he smiles.

Conservapedia?

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 19:23:00 +0000

Disclaimer: To be clear, this blog entry is heavily laden with biting sarcasm, and is intended to be read tongue-in-cheek. I have several friends on both ends of the political spectrum. Most of them are very well aware of my political views, and we regularly enjoy spirited debates that do not interfere with our friendship. In fact, the right to express one's opinion, regardless of its perceived value to others, is one of the things that makes living in this country so grand. With that in mind, liberals and centrists, please read freely and enjoy. Conservatives, do not read... unless of course you are looking for solid reasons to convert to the mainstream;-) With this caveat, please proceed.

For all who have grown weary of the "liberal bias," as propagated by the open source Internet encyclopedia project Wikipedia, there is now an alternative source of "real" encyclopedic information: Conservapedia - The Trustworthy Encyclopedia. That's right folks, no longer must you endure malicious lies spread by liberals through their inflammatory and loosely-moralled vignettes on the Sodom and Gomorrah Superhighway, commonly referred to by many right wingers as the "Internets." Now, you can get the truth in an easily digestible format guaranteed not to upset your delicate sensibilities. For you, the pious, wealthy, conservative magnate, Conservapedia is much better than Wikipedia, because along with almost every entry you get a related verse from the Holy Bible (I say "nearly" every entry only because, apparently, God didn't have much of an opinion on things like public transportation). In fact, if you make Conservapedia (literally translated: "to conserve a pedia") your home page, you also get a daily Bible verse and breaking news blurbs like, "Liberals now want to genetically engineer children to be liberal!" I know, you think I'm kidding, but I am not making this up.

According to Conservapedia's own study, the flamingly sinister Wikipedia is 6 times more liberal than the American public. Hey folks, I'm no rocket scientist, but isn't it also quite possible this could be because those of us who use Wikipedia are 6 times less likely to have clumsy sausage fingers, and 6 times more likely to posses the mental capacity to actually operate the Internets?

Conservapedia - The Truthiness Encyclopedia would like you to believe it is an unbiased news source, in much the same way Rush Limbaugh would like you to believe HE is an unbiased news source. Let's take a look at a couple of entries, shall we? Oh, I don't know. Let's pick a predictable subject that bears significant weight on the public consciousness, like maybe "homosexuality". OK, it says it right here: "Homosexuality is an immoral sexual lifestyle between members of the same sex. It is more than simply a sexual act, it is going beyond the boundaries that God has setup for marriage" Oh look! The good folks at Conservapedia were even kind enough to provide me with scripture from the Book of Leviticus to back up their claim!

Yep. Sounds pretty unbiased to me. What, not convinced? OK, let's try another one. How about "Democratic Party"? I wonder what Conservapedia has to say about the Democrats and health care? OK, here it is: "The Democrat fondness for heavy government intervention into the marketplace[Citation Needed] and social engineering[Citation Needed] means that a significant proportion of their base and of their candidates for the 2008 U.S. Presidential Election ideologically favor introducing a system of socialized healthcare [Citation Needed]; regardless of the crippling tax burden this would require to sustain itself[Citation Needed] and the low standard of care achieved by socialized health programs in other countries compared to the United States.[Citation Needed] Despite these disadvantages, Democrats generally regard universal healthcare to be a priority because of the appeal to nearly 50 million voters without any kind of health insurance. "

Yikes! There sure are a lot of places there that need citations. You know what? I bet they have them tucked away in a back room somewhere. They probably just didn't want to make me read more than what is necessary to get their point. After all, it is Conservapedia - The Truthiness* Encyclopedia.

Let's look at something a bit less political and hopefully less controversial. How about the word "femininity"? Ah, here it is: "Traditionally feminine traits include being emotional, demure, affectionate, sympathetic, sensitive, soft-spoken, warm, tender, childlike, gentle, pretty, willowy, submissive..." Whoa, Nellie! Now, hold on just a second. I'm not so sure my girlfriend would like that description much - or my sisters, or my office colleagues, or even Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice... Surely this was an errant entry. Some rogue must have hacked into their system and changed stuff around to make them look bad. It was probably a liberal.

I happen to like science a lot, so let's see what they say about natural selection. "With continuing scientific research, the theory of evolution and its presuppositions have been thoroughly refuted." Wait, they have? Really??? Damn. I guess I should stop hoping that one day, Napolean Dynamite will get to see what is pretty much his favorite animal, a liger, running wild on the Safari. And these zebroids must be another one of Wikipedia's conspiratorial hoaxes, because nothing like that could ever happen. Sadly, I now realize that I will never get to live my dream of evolving into part man and part machine in order to take over the world. Damn you, Conservapedia, damn you. The truth hurts so much!

Call me a skeptic, but it's beginning to look like Conservapedia - The Truthiness Encyclopedia might have an agenda. Of course, you won't offend me if you visit it. But if you do, for Heaven's sake, please abide by the The Conservapedia Commandme nts while you are there.

Breaking News! This just in from Conservapedia: "The U.S. Supreme Court rejects the liberal fiction that diversity in public school can be lawfully achieved by a race-based admissions policy: [4]"

Update: RationalWiki , a wiki-styled Web site expressing alternative views to Conservapedia, has a great "Best Of" list on Conservapedia. Be sure to check it out at: http://www.rationalwiki.com/wiki/Conservapedia:Best_of_Conservapedia

* Special thanks to Stephen Colbert of The Colbert Report for his coinage of the word "truthiness," which is liberally used throughout this post... liberal pun intended.

I'm the Bus

noreply@blogger.com (M. Bailey) — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 17:50:00 +0000

Last year, my girlfriend and I were running late for a party. I was driving down 14th Street headed to the DC waterfront. Folks in DC know that 14th Street is a major artery in and out of the city, and that it can be pretty difficult to find an opportunity to turn left, which is exactly what I needed to do. Eventually, I grew frustrated and decided to turn left at my first available opportunity, which happened to be on Pennsylvania Avenue near the Commerce Department. Having lived in the area for over a decade and having worked at the building adjacent to this particular intersection for nearly 9 years, I fully knew there was a sign restricting left turns there, but what did I care? DC police usually have bigger fish to fry than me, anyway.

As I approached the turn, my girlfriend noted in a calm and steady voice with only the slightest hint of a warning, "You do realize that signs says 'No-Left-Turn-Except-for-Taxi-Cabs-and-Buses,' right?" I knew it was true, but I was undeterred. In my response, I did what any good man would do. I squinted my eyes with defiance, stuck my thumb in chest, pursed my lips, set my jaw, and said with a cocky grin and a low smooth voice, "Well tonight, [long pause] I AM the bus." Man, it sounded good! It was delivered with such raw and unexpected bravado I could've sworn I was channeling Robert De Niro in Raging Bull. I was so proud of myself my head began bobbing uncontrollably with confidence.

No sooner had I finished pronouncing the "s" in "bus" and straightening the steering wheel, did the only thing visible in my rear-view mirror become flashing blue lights followed by the low yelp of a siren. I was polite to the young Secret Service Police officer and thought it wise to address him as "sir" when he asked for my credentials. After examining everything carefully, he asked me, "Do you know why I pulled you over this evening?"

Now, I've been pulled over enough times to know this question is patently designed to make you nervous so you will spill the beans... about things like the time you slipped a mini crossword puzzle inside your Boys Life magazine when you were waiting in the checkout line at Kroger's in 1979. Trust me. There is never a correct answer for that question - I've attempted several. You could always play dumb and say in your best folksy Southern accent, "Why I have no idea, officer! What seems to be the trouble," and he will always automatically assume you are lying. Or you could assert yourself confidently and exclaim, "Why yes! I know EXACTLY why you pulled me over, officer!" and he would think you were either drunk or a wise guy, neither of which are stellar options. So, I decided to remain slightly vague by saying, "I may have an idea. Sir."

The officer asked me, "Did you not see the 'No Left Turn Except For Taxi Cabs and Buses' sign back there?" I mumbled something like, "Oh, that sign?… ummm… yeah… I thought I may have caught a sign like that somewhere over there." He slowly took a step backwards, pulled down his Ray Ban's and examined my car for a moment. Then he said, "That's funny. This vehicle doesn't look anything like a taxi cab or a bus. Now, why would you make an illegal left turn when you know you are neither a taxi cab, nor a bus?"

Suddenly, I felt blood rush to my face as both the officer and my girlfriend glared at me expectantly. It was at that moment when I realized there are fewer pressures a man can endure greater than both the law and his woman simultaneously. The sounds of the city were gradually replaced by the thump of my heart, and my vision began to darken as myriad thoughts flooded my brain in search of an answer they would both find pleasing. "Quick! What are my options?!," I thought. "I could say, 'No, officer, you're mistaken. This actually IS a cab. You see, I just picked up this really cute fare and told her she could sit up here with me. Oh, and you should definitely get your eyes checked…' Nope, that wouldn't work. I could say, 'Sure. I saw the sign. So what? Is this the best use of my tax dollars? Do I LOOK like a terrorist to you? Your eyes are kinda glazed, have you been eating doughnuts? Shouldn't you be checking on crime at the Krispy Kreme??? I bet your colleagues miss you.' No, that certainly wouldn't do it. Maybe I could say, 'Which one are you, Andy or Barney? Oh, haha! I get it! I'm practice for your final exam! Ok, well done, my good man. I'm sure you will make a fine police officer some day. Now, don't forget to put the safety back on your weapon.' Nope, that won't work, either. I guess I'll just have to tell the truth. One last fleeting thought ran though my head, 'AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!! There's a bee in my pants!!! Quick, help me get them off!'" Of course not. I would have gone to jail for that.

Truthfully, I said, "Well, sir, I was in a bit of a hurry and I got a little frustrated back there. I shouldn't have made the mistake." He said, "Ok. Well, I am just going to write you a warning for the illegal left turn this time." He scribbled something on his ticket pad. "But it looks like your tags expired a couple of days ago," Homer Simpson's "Doh!" echoed loudly in my head, "so I am going to have to go ahead and write you up for that. You should get that taken care of as soon as possible, and be safe out there tonight." I graciously accepted the warning and the ticket and carefully went along my way, making sure not to glance remotely in the direction of the passenger side of the car. For now, simply imagining the look of triumph on her face was punishment enough. My Raging Bull bravado just took a much-needed backseat to humility, so I stayed pretty quiet until we arrived at the party.

Later, I only ended up paying a small fine for my mistake. As much as I hate paying fines for silly reasons like this one, it paled in comparison to the ammunition I so generously gifted my girlfriend that night. I didn't realize at the time just how long the repercussions would last. As I have been discovering lately, this story has been told at I don't know how many parties to numberless women as the ultimate example of "I told you so." Although the whole ordeal was slightly embarrassing, in some way it has turned out to be bit of a blessing. Now, whenever she sees me doing something extremely stubborn, something that I know deep down will get me into trouble, all she has to do is recant those proud, defiant words: "Tonight – I AM the bus."