Deuce of Clubs

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Fri, 10 Jul 2009 02:51:09 -0700

10jul2009 — Facetious advice from Ira Wallach's How to be Deliriously Happy (1950), as slavishly followed by contemporary bureaucrats

I will begin by discussing those who owe more than $10,000. Their problem is relatively simple. Their problem is not to get out of debt, but to get more deeply into debt. ["President Obama's ambitious plans to cut middle-class taxes, overhaul health care and expand access to college would require massive borrowing over the next decade, leaving the nation mired far deeper in debt than the White House previously estimated, congressional budget analysts said yesterday."] They can succeed only if they carefully follow one important rule: Borrow!
Yes, borrow! ["The U.S. government is borrowing record amounts to finance deficit spending."] Memorize this word.
The man who owes $ 10,000 should set as his goal a debt of $25,000. He will have to fight hard to achieve it, but is anything worth winning that is won without struggle? Let him apply to banks, corporations, and individuals for money. Using a bold approach, such a man can manage to become involved in various financial disasters. A little thoughtless speculation will help. With know-how and stick-to-it-iveness he should win through to a $25,000 debt. ["The debt stands today at a staggering $11.4 trillion —equivalent to about $37,000 for each and every American. And it's expanding by over $1 trillion a year."]
Today any man who owes $25,000 has arrived. His material worries will disappear. He will find that he can command the best of everything, and head waiters will have a special bow for him. He has put himself in a situation in which his creditors have a vested interest in him. ["In 1980, the U.S. was the world's largest creditor nation. By the early '90s, we were running such a massive trade deficit we became the world's largest debtor nation."] They cannot afford to let him down. ["The US cannot afford for China to sell its US treasuries but, equally, China cannot afford to see the value [of its treasury bonds] slide."]
With faith in his creditors, such a man should lead a full and integrated life, provided he lives reasonably and is careful not to let the shadow of solvency blot out the sunlight of his days. ["In the United States, the danger of debt insolvency is growing, putting at risk the currency reserves of foreign countries, China chief among them."]

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Okay.

Dear Dumbass Bureaucrats:
HOW TO BE DELIRIOUSLY HAPPY IS A BOOK OF HUMOR. YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO FOLLOW ADVICE IN A HUMOR BOOK.*

*Except, in due course, any advice found in mine.

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Thu, 09 Jul 2009 02:53:26 -0700

09jul2009 —

Keith Olbermann feature:
"Worst person . . . INTHEWORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRLD!"

ciped from

Pete and Pete's Artie:
"Strongest man . . . INTHEWORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRLD!"

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Wed, 08 Jul 2009 10:03:00 -0700

08jul2009 — Something that happened at work this one time

A few years back, I don't know how it came up (as if I need an excuse), but I was showing someone the "X" in my left palm, the scar I got from getting accidentally hanged by the hand as a child. So this Christerly middle-aged woman peered over her glasses, and said, "NOW you know how CHRIST felt!"

Well, of course that had to go up on the office whiteboard.

From there the phrase passed into the day's conversation. Mine, anyway. Later that day, the woman I was originally showing the scar to, was griping about having gotten dressed up on a Friday, for a meeting that never ended up taking place. "I feel like I got all dressed up on a Friday for nothing!" she said.

I pointed to the board. "NOW you know how CHRIST felt!"

Still later, my computer locked up and I started grousing out loud. Someone said, "Are you sure it's not operator error?" I said, "Positive. For, behold! I am without error. Say—now I DO know how Christ felt."

Moral: Christerly middle-aged women are not amused by talk like this, especially if they are your boss.

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 04:14:50 -0700

07jul2009 —

"You kids are a little more receptive than the clowns we played to last night. Hope you're not the same kids. Their problem was that they didn't have the understanding of their own lack of commitment, man." — Johnny Thunders & Wayne Kramer, stage banter before Gang War plays "The Harder They Come" (from Street Fighting)

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 15:26:32 -0700

06jul2009 — Ma phoned just now

Ma: Weren't you eating rice cereal the other day?
Me: Yep.
Ma: Jean wants to make those Rice Krispie candy things, with the marshmallow—
Me: Rice Krispie treats.
Ma: —and she doesn't have the recipe. I thought it might be on the cereal box.
Me: What I was eating was puffed rice from Trader Joe's.
Ma: What's the cereal I'm thinking of?
Me: Rice Krispies.
Ma: Oh! Right.
Me: So you're just looking for the recipe?
Ma: Yeah.
Me: Did you think of looking on the Internet?
Ma: No. . . .
Me: Does Jean have the Internet?
Ma: Of course.
Me: All the information from the world's libraries is at your fingertips—and you're looking for a cereal box?
Ma: See, we don't think that way.

(The coda: Instead of calling her friend with the tip to look on the Internet, or even finding the recipe on the Internet and and emailing it, she found the recipe on the Internet and then called her friend and read it to her over the phone.)

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 01:18:38 -0700

06jul2009 — MediaMonkey says

"She's a [x]": Backwoods Woman, Bad Motorcycle, Big Bopper, Big Girl Now, Blowout, Bread Baker, Breakaway, Carnival, Dancer, Deceiver, Diamond, Dog, Doll, Drag, Drone, Fat Girl, Fig Neutron, Fine Chick, Fool, Girl, Girl Without a Sweetheart, Go-Go, Going Jessie, Good Woman, Grabber, Great Great Girl, He, Hole, Hum Dinger, Hum Dum Dinger, Jar, Knockout, Lady, Liar, Lover, Mod, Moonlighter, Mover, Mystery, Mystery to Me, Pest, Queen, Rainbow, Rebel, Sensation, Serious Teenager in Love, Setting Sun, Snake, Teaser, Tiger, Waitress (And I'm In Love), Winner, Woman.

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Sun, 05 Jul 2009 17:20:23 -0700

05jul2009 — From Michael Belshaw's All the Loving Wolves: Living and Learning with Wolf Hybrids:

On one occasion I observed some coyote behavior that illustrates the wild canids' ability to use reason to develop tactics to protect their interests. One fine afternoon, I was bulldozing a road down a mountainside in Arizona. My dog was fussing about near the machine when a large coyote approached and barked at her aggressively. The coyote apparently did not see that a human was attached to the bulldozer, and concentrated his attention on the dog. As I watched, his purpose became evident. While he barked to distract the dog, his mate safely made her way up an arroyo behind him. After she had cleared the area, he backed away and followed her. (30-1)

In winter, the wolf will have a thick undercoat that provides warmth and protection, and the guard hairs, especially on the ruffs, will thicken and lengthen. The coat contains a lanolin-like substance that provides waterproofing; if you rub your hand through the coat of a wolf or wolf hybrid, the skin will be pleaantly softened. The coats will shed in the spring and fall, so be prepared to gather bushels of the stuff to give to your local weaver. The fur spins easily into fine, strong threads, and sweaters made from it are reported to be exceptionally warm. (41)

I am sometimes asked if wolves make good guard animals. In the usual sense, I think not. The wolf is a cautious, highly intelligent animal. These two characteristics associated with survival help the wolf to steer clear of scrapes unless they are unavoidable, or the odds are greatly in his favor and the prospect is irresistible. [Cp. Apache battle tactics] A pure wolf also is very suspicious of humans. He mistrusts and shuns them, with good reason, and therefore makes a poor watch animal. (42)

Since wolves and wolf hybrids love young things, they tend to accept children and are adored by them in return. However, it is important for children and adults to understand the difference between teasing and playing. Human children or adults may engage in play with them for hours on end, and still will tire before the wolf hybrids do. But if the human teases, the wolf hybrid will grow angry and snap. Any injury that results will not be the fault of the canid. The wolf hybrid may for a short while tolerate being used as a drum, but he will not accept it for long. (47-8)

Occasionally one hears a solo song, without chorus. In my pack, Sitka usually is the soloist in a melody with variations, a melancholy cry of six or seven notes within an octave. After this first offering, he lowers his head, yawns, pauses reflectively and wails the same phrase again but with a slight difference, perhaps prolonging a note, using a glissando, or adding a note or two. There may be ten or more variations on this initial theme which is never exactly duplicated. It seems as if a thought process and experimentation are involved.
Of course, wolves and wolf hybrids can and do bark. Fortunately, this is rare and purposeful. If a wolf hybrid barks, pay attention, for something is amiss—there is a rattlesnake in the pen, or a strange, unwelcome human. (66-7)

The placement of legs, tail and head all convey signals and messages. A tail straight out behind, with head slightly lowered, front legs stiffened, eyes fixed on yours, accompanied by a low growl, constitutes a distinct warning. The animal is positioned to leap, one hopes not at the throat. (67)

In 1978, an Ojibway woman, Elsie Wolfe, who ironically was a member of the wolf clan, was found partly consumed by wolves. (80)

For their part, wolf hybrids are often frustrated in their friendly overtures toward dogs. Wolf protocol—the necessary etiquette that allows a pack to function—is unfamiliar to dogs. So their meetings with the hybrids produces misunderstandings. It is as if two persons from widely different cultures—say a Moslem and a Maori—were confront each other's foreign values and customs. The Moslem does not touch with his left hand, while the Maori will try to rub noses. (82-3)

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Sat, 04 Jul 2009 17:54:44 -0700

04jul2009 — SCOREBOARD

FREEDOM	TYRANNY
0	I lost count

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Fri, 03 Jul 2009 00:21:28 -0700

03jul2009 — MediaMonkey says

"Down in the [x]": Alley, Bahamas, Black Bottom, Boondocks, Bottom, Churchyard, Desert, Groovy, Ground, Hole, Indies, Jailhouse On My Knees, Lab, Mine, Park, Sewer, Subway, Tube Station at Midnight, U-17, Valley, Valley of Hollow Logs, Willow Garden, Wrecking Yard.

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Wed, 01 Jul 2009 23:48:52 -0700

02jul2009 —

I love running across names for objects or processes that most people wouldn't ordinarily be thinking about, yet someone has studied and analyzed them (and thereby named them). For example:

The Kelvin-Helmholtz Instability

The Young-Laplace Relationship

The Belousov-Zhabotinsky Reaction

They always sound like unnecessarily complicated action film titles, or names for really pretentious bands. Don't they make you want to start one?

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Wed, 01 Jul 2009 15:14:02 -0700

01jul2009 — Reader Mail: Saltine of Substance

Q: How do you find time to copy all these book passages? Aren't you supposed to be writing your own book or something?

A: Actually, the copying of passages from a book is like a saltine that clears the palette—only it's a saltine of substance, offering value beyond its power to cleanse. Copying and posting passages from other people's books makes it a pleasure to go back to generating passages that maybe someone, someday, might want to copy. Maybe.

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Sat, 27 Jun 2009 17:08:14 -0700

27jun2009 — From Abbie Hoffman's Square Dancing in the Ice Age:

No one launches a radical assault on government and institutions with the notion of becoming rich. (27, "Bye-Bye Sixties, Hollywood Style")

I'm the most famous, relatively poor person in America who hasn't killed a whole bunch of people or assassinated a political candidate. (27, "Bye-Bye Sixties, Hollywood Style")

Public relations was the cornerstone upon which J. Edgar Hoover built the power and glory of the bureau. His efforts were legendary. Once determined to ensure that his ghost-written Masters of Deceit become a best-seller, he managed to obtain the secret list of bookstores the New York Times used to determine its weekly list. He then instructed his field agents to purchase (at taxpayers' expense, no less) enough retail copies to guarantee the book's success. I know the story because at one time we shared the same publisher. (30-1, "Inside the New FBI")

Large chrome letters humbly solve the mystery of the letters FBI: Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity. Exactly the qualities needed for good wire men and midnight burglars. (34, "Inside the New FBI")

At the end of every working day, a special agent carefully measured all the objects Hoover left on top of this desk, noted their place, removed them, polished the surface, and returned them to their exact position. (38, "Inside the New FBI")

Under the Freedom of Information Act, you can now write in and request a copy of your file. Thousands do so each day—which, by the way, if there is no file, begins one. (38, "Inside the New FBI")

"When you're a fugitive the highway's your home," sings the cowboy on the radio. Roaming from town to town, wishing you could settle down. Those dreams are pretty strong at times. No different from everyone else's desires, though. A nice out-of-the-way place in the country, fresh air, no traffic, cheap living, and good people. Above all, good people. Folks you could trust. Who wouldn't turn you in no matter how high the price on your head. I think I know a place. It's way out west, high in the mountains, where it should be. It's got a wild past and a wild future ahead. Folks up there have done some struggling over long hours and the work they've put in may give us down here in the valley some ideas on the possibilities of different ways to live a good life. One thing I know for sure, it's one of the few places I could say my name and spend as much time as I damn well please. It warms a hunted man's heart just to know the place exists.
Up there in the mountains, between Albuquerque and Santa Fe, there's a new town agrowing. A new vision, if you please. It's a place they call Madrid.*
(*Madrid is pronounced with a southern drawl (Maa-drid) rather than like the city in Spain.) (72, "The Town Too High to Die")

Except for a brief respite during World War II, when the mine was reactivated to supply the secret city of Los Alamos, Madrid lay dormant. (74, "The Town Too High to Die")

After failing at an attempt to reactivate the mine in the early fifties, Oscar died and ownership passed to his son, Joe Huber. Joe tried to sell the whole town, lock, stock and barrel several times. In 1964 Billie Sol Estes tried to buy the place but negotiations floundered when Billie was hauled off to prison. In 1973 Joe announced he had sold it to a big California land broker but in August that deal also fell through. Joe really wanted to sell off the 360 acres in house lots. He was raised in Madrid and wanted to preserve its picturesque character rather than see it turned into some lackluster land development. He wanted to sell to people who would fix up the place but respect its historic roots. The problem was New Mexican law prohibited subdivision in small units. A hustling real estate agent plowed through dusty old land survey charts up in Santa Fe and found that for a brief spell Madrid had been an official town named Kellyville and had, in fact, already been subdivided. The way was opened, and in February 1974, Joe Huber put the 160 lots, each with a sort-of house on it, up for sale.
By then there were already fifty or so hearty souls who had been semirenting, semisquatting on the property. Joe had an affinity for these people. They and he shared the kind of faith that moved mountains, so to speak. He offered them first pick of the lots. Prices were arranged so even the poorest could afford to buy in. Some as low as fifty dollars down and fifty dollars a month. For two thousand dollars paid over two years, former drop-out anarchists who had sought refuge in these rough mountains were turned into bonafide homeowners. The original dwellers, learning of the sale, ran to call kindred spirits in Albuquerque and around the country. In two weeks all the lots were sold. Joe donated the ballfield, the tennis courts, the church, and the waterworks. He kept control of the museum, the Mineshaft Tavern, and mining rights—the last, a common and anxiety-producing aspect of most Southwest land deals. (75, "The Town Too High to Die")

The ball field hosts one of the best-loved institutions, the town softball league, and like everything else in Madrid it has its own personal history. Back in the thirties [sic; late teens], the Chicago Black Sox ruled the major leagues with such power that the only financial future the players could envision was to join together with some local gamblers and start fixing the scores of the games. When they were caught, the baseball world exploded in a rage. It was the country's worst sports scandal. A half-dozen or so players changed their names and disappeared into the west. All of a sudden this little-known mining town in the New Mexican mountains was the powerhouse of the formidable Texas League. Most folks put two and two together. No one minded then and no one would today. "We still have our outlaw element," claimed a scruffy-looking gent. (79, "The Town Too High to Die")

In these parts a hundred years ago it was the custom to leave a pie on the window sill for the hunted outlaw in the hills. I figure the good people of Madrid might find a way to send up a signal. I'd come back. (86, "The Town Too High to Die")

If you're vanning it and just got into town, head for the rich section (believe me, in Mexico you'll know rich from poor), find a nice tree-lined treet and park for the night. No one will bother you and it's safe; many streets even have security guards. (111, "Mexico: Less Money, More Fun")

There's a good trick to successful bargaining. Bargain for something you don't want. You'll see how low the price drops. Then you'll have an index when you haggle for the item you want. (112, "Mexico: Less Money, More Fun")

Guanajuato also has to be seen. They have terrific fiestas here, street players, a great theater, and Las Mumias de Guanajuato. It seems the town cemetery has some chemical or curse that doesn't let bodies decay, so after five years they dig up the dead and either burn them or stick them in the museum. It's one of the strangest museums you'll ever stumble upon. They sell candy mummies outside and kids love sucking on the skulls. (114, "Mexico: Less Money, More Fun")

It would have totaled $10,000 had we not had a magic letter of introduction I had carefully typed one night in a motel six miles outside Amarillo, Texas.
To whom it may concern:
This letter introduces you to Mr. and Mrs. Mark Samuels, who have been assigned by our magazine to do a survey on the new French cuisine. They are a well-known writer and photographer. Your cooperation will be greatly appreciated.
Sincerely,
Laurence Gonzalez
Articles Editor
Playboy
For those six months, in the fall of '77 through the Spring of '78, I learned to snap that letter out of my jacket 'ocket and pass it under the nose of a master chef with such a seductive flourish he could virtually sniff the centerfold. (116-17, "The Great Gourmet Rip-Off")

The following note appears at the insistence of Playboy magazine: Anyone out there tempted to follow Abbie Hoffman's lead in impersonating a Playboy staff member should know that he does so at his own peril. Says Playboy: "We take a very tough stance against people who do this sort of thing, reporting them to the proper authorities for prosecution, conviction, and imprisonment. In this case, the authorities got there first, on another matter. That fact doesn't diminish our resistance to such ruses, despite our residual affection for Abbie Hoffman." (131, "The Great Gourmet Rip-Off")

A week before, I was high atop Pyramid IV at Tikal, lost in mushroom/Mayan-induced time travel, when realty rudely interrupted. "Did you hear the news? Did you hear the news!" screamed a bunch of backpackers scampering up the slopes. "Nixon quit! He's through. All done. Finito! Kaput!" Roars of approval in seven languages could be heard piercing the jungle silence. I got so excited that I lost my footing, cascaded down the side of the pyramid and ended up tearing the ligaments in my ankle. (147, "In Search of Philip Agee")

Mailer complains some that Abbott's guards have no character. Norman is a good man but he has been in prison a total of five days. It does not matter if a guard is okay. So what. They have to conform to a system that if it operated with humanity would not operate at all. The good guards quit. Everyone has met guards who are relatively good guys and more often than not they'll be teamed with a sadist. There is an old yippie proverb: "If you shit in a pitcher of cream, the turds will rise to the top." In other words, evil wins out over good if the container is small and tight. Prison is a very small, tight container. (215, "The Crime of Punishment")

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Fri, 26 Jun 2009 01:03:14 -0700

26jun2009 — From Firefly: The Official Companion, Volume 1

[Whedon:] "I would say, power is not what I was thinking about when I made the show, This is part of the difference between the show and the movie, because the show was really about what is it like to be the little guy, and the movie was, what is it like to be the little guy—in an awesome epic! Where you win! Because it's a movie!" (6)

[Whedon:] "The mission statement became, `Tell the story, get people through it and earn your indulgence.'" (10)

Joss Whedon says that Mal was not originally intended to have a moral crisis as early as 'The Train Job'. "Besides the action," Whedon explains, "the other adjustment the network was very firm about was Mal being more likable. And, of course, Tim and I used to joke, 'But we thought you said, "More like a bull!" Ah, this is very embarrassing .. .' (54)

There's usually a difference between coming onto a series as a first-time guest actor and coming back but, [Christina] Hendricks says, "less so on Firefly than on any other show, I mean, the cast on Firefly were so warm and just giving and immediately made me feel comfortable; whereas other casts—including the show that I'm on this week!—don't even speak to you. (165)

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Thu, 25 Jun 2009 01:07:58 -0700

25jun2009 — From Mark Ehrman's Getting Out: Your Guide to Leaving America

Persons who wish to renounce U.S. citizenship should also be aware that the fact that a person has renounced U.S. citizenship may have no effect whatsoever on his or her U.S. tax or military service obligations (contact the Internal Revenue Service or U.S. Selective Service for more information). (62)

After about 30 minutes, my interrogator told me: "The world is a dangerous place. When you are no longer protected by your American passport you will find that out." I replied that "millions of people throughout Europe and the rest of the world live without a U.S. passport and they are doing all right." At that, the agent marched me back along the narrow corridor, grabbed my U.S. passport, which I had been holding throughout the interview, and slammed the door in my face after shouting a final, ironic "good luck." (Had I offended him personally? Was it a "bad date" for him?) (64)

If you're too lazy to learn a foreign language, and don't want to relegate yourself to only communicating in urban centers, tourist traps and in expat enclaves, then you can pick from these English-speaking choices:
Antigua, Australia, The Bahamas, Bangladesh, Barbados, Belize, Bermuda, Botswana, Brunei, Cameroon, Canada, Cayman Islands, Dominica, Fiji, Gambia, Ghana, Gibraltar, India, Ireland, Jamaica, Kenya, Lesotho, Liberia, Malawi, Malta, Maritius, New Zealand, Nigeria, Pakistan, Papua New Guinea, Phillipines, Seychelles, Sierra Leone, South Africa, Sri Lanka, Swaziland, Tanzania, Trinidad and Tobago, Uganda, United Kingdom, Zambia, Zimbabwe. (108)

[Costa Rica:] Telephone service is run by a government monopoly so land lines are difficult to get if your home doesn't already have one. (151)

[Panama:] If you need the police, you have to pay their taxi fare to get them to your house. (153)

The Dutch kind of look down on drugs. What they've done is create a system where you can go for it and you're going to get tired of it and then you're going to be a normal person, but better give you the hair of the dog than have it so you're always teased by it. After a while, you start to look for other kicks, like, "There's got to be something more than this." And most people who have been here for a while will stop smoking. (185)

Barcelona has the highest rate of petty theft in the E.U. I have been pickpocketed three times. A lot of the organized tours stop at the police station at the end of the day so that participants can file police reports. (189)

Andorra is Europe's least-known tax haven. There is no income tax—although the new deposit system for passive residents effectively loses you the interest on �24,000. There is a new property purchase tax of 1.25% but no capital gains tax, no inheritance tax, no wealth tax, no profits tax, no value added tax. (193)

Be prepared to pay for some services handsomely, especially if you're moving to Greece from the States (example: power/phone/internet and heating). Most of these services are government-owned and are basically a monopoly, which mean that they set the prices and we just have to accept it. (199)

[Slovenia is] a beautiful, green, unspoiled country and the people are generally friendly. That said, the hangover of socialism is rampant, and working here is difficult at times—deadlines are difficult to set, some of the workforce can seem lazy, and a sense of entitlement just for having a face at a desk is common. (210)

The town of Split [Croatia] itself is over 1,700 years old. The city has grown up around the original walls of Diocletian's palace. Stone, stone, and more stone. Walking through the streets takes you back in time. There is a real feeling of security when you are traveling on walkways people have been using for so long. The stone under your feet is as smooth as glass, polished by countless footsteps. (213)

The United Arab Emirates has the distinction of being one of the few countries never to have held an election in its entire history. They have no political parties. All power emanates from a band of sheiks known as the Supreme Council of Rulers. Laws prohibit criticism of the government and other institutions by the media and individuals. (233)

Americans come here [Saudi Arabia] to make money and with the intention of accepting the cultural restrictions. As one Oklahoman who spent time in Riyadh as an airline technician told me: "When you go to Saudi Arabia you have two buckets: one for shit and one for the money. When one of these buckets gets full, you leave." (234)

[Egypt:] Euro-trancers have turned such Red Sea coastal towns as Dahab into the new Goa. (243)

Before you get any ideas, nobody pursues extradition with greater zeal than Uncle Sam. The United States currently has more bilateral extradition treaties than any other country. One hundred ten at last count. (304)

Lands Beyond Justice: Countries With No Extradition Treaties With The U.S.

Afghanistan, Algeria, Andorra, Angola, Armenia, Bahrain, Bangladesh, Bantu Homelands, Benin, Bhutan, Bophuthatswana, Bosnia, Botswana, Brunei, Burkina Faso, Burundi, Cameroon, Cape Verde, Central African Republic, Chad, China, Ciskei, Comoros, Cote d'Ivoire, Cuba, Djibouti, Equatorial Guinea, Ethiopia, Gabon, Guinea, Guinea Bissau, Indonesia, Iran, Korea (North), Kuwait, Laos, Lebanon, Libya, Madagascar, Maldives, Maldova, Mali, Marshall Islands, Mauritania, Micronesia, Mongolia, Mozambique, Myanmar, Namibia, Nepal, Niger, Oman, Principe and San Tome, Qatar, Russian Federation, Rwanda, Samoa, Saudi Arabia, Senegal, Serbia, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, Taiwan, Togo, Transkei, Tunisia, Uganda, United Arab Emirates, Vanuatu, Vietnam, Western Samoa, Yemen, Zaire. (306)

Deuce of Clubs: A Demonstrated Aptitude for Reasonable Mayhem

Tue, 23 Jun 2009 15:12:17 -0700

22jun2009 — From Bill Drummond's, How to be An Artist:

I would advise that it is always best to drive alone. Driving with someone else might be good company but always seems to nail your mind down to reality. Rationality has a tendency to hang around like a bad smell. Is driving alone with a spurious destination better than going to the Tate Modern?

Chad McCail said, 'Doesn't it concern you that all you may be doing is inflating the value of the original Richard Long work for whoever buys it off you for $20,000?
'I don't think so.'
'Well then, does it concern you that you might be making art about art?' asks a man with a hat.
'Is that wrong?'
'It is a bit of an unwritten golden rule not to do so. It's considered the ultimate self indulgent act an artist can commit. It means art just goes round in circles. It speaks to no one else other than those involved in the art process.'
'I'm sure you're right.'

The thing is, if Darwin had known about the powan he need never have spent all those months bored on the Beagle and years running around the Galapagos Islands chasing finches. He could have learnt all he needed to know from checking the varieties of powan that exist in our lakes and lochs. Each of these sub-species have been cut off from the other since the last big melt and have thus evolved their own idiosyncrasies to deal with life in their own stretch of land-locked pond.

I had asked a friend, Chris Brook, who is featured earlier in this tale, to read through what I had written and give me his criticisms. The following is what he wrote about the whole 'voice in my head/Billingham' bit.
'I think this is the major weakness in the tale so far. It's suffocatingly self-referential and like you've contrived a situation to start a rant which is actually something else. Cut it down substantially? Refer to it differently? I think the waking up in the hotel and salient issue of owning this art is OK. But ... for the first time something is jutting out oddly and not working. It's like you've slid an art theory essay in here under dubious disguise.'
Chris Brook has rumbled me. It had been shoved there, there was no voice in my head. In fact I never woke up. Had a sound night's sleep.
But I'm not going to take his advice. It stays as I wrote it.

No Scottish education is complete without learning about the Stone of Scone or the Stone of Destiny as it is also known. Scottish history is forever entwined with this lump of rock. The reason for slipping into these thoughts was that I had just passed the turning for Scone where the stone has spent much of the last 1000 years. What got to me, more than any of all that patriotic stuff about the stone, was that it was this lump of rock that the Bible says Jacob used as a pillow the night he dreamt about the ladder with the angels.
When, as a kid, I first saw the stone under the throne in Westminster Abbey I thought, 'Why Ule fuck did Jacob choose such a huge lump of rock for a pillow? Surely he could have just made himself a mound of sand, being in the desert, that would have been far more comfortable?' This question has never been answered.

If only Jacob had not dreamt of that sodding ladder but had dreamt of some olive thighs belonging to the daughters of Canaan, the history of mankind would have been totally different. None of that promised land stuff, no Moorish invasions, no Crusades, no International Zionist Conspiracy, no Holocaust, none of all that Palestinian/Israeli trouble that is always threatening.
Four short verses, and mankind has been fighting it out ever since. Nothing comes close; even God's original promise to Abraham doesn't carry the weight these words do.
Right now, as you are reading this, somebody is loading a Kalashnikov or an M16 in readiness to kill somebody else as a direct result of those words having been written.

I instantly had visions of dumping everything to make my fortune panning for gold in the streams thereabouts. Then it came back to me that I had already made and squandered it. The vision evolved into something else and as it did I remembered someone telling Jimmy and me a fortnight before we did the squandering that it was a fruitless task as Yves Klein had already thrown gold into the Seine and in art it was only the first person to paint the Mona Lisa that gets the credit. At the time we thought, 'Fuck Yves Klein, we want to bum it anyway.' But since then there has always been that niggling sense of resentment against Klein and his flinging into the Seine.

I got back in the Land Rover. This called for a celebration of sorts. This requires me to reveal to you another sordid and shameful secret of mine. Under the driver's seat of the Land Rover I keep a cassette. My family don't know it's there, I've never played it when any passenger was on board. I do try to limit the amount of times I use it but some things are very hard to give up. You will have gathered that I'm very anti the past. If I had my way all music more than a year old would be wiped. Old music just encourages nostalgia, even worse, it fosters classicism.