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Friday, September 26, 2003

Kirby On Crack

“If you’re smoking dope, or committing a crime walking down the street then I don’t think you have an expectation of privacy.” – Kirby Wilbur, KVI (Seattle) morning show host.

That was Kirby Wilbur pontificating about how the puke who calls you just when you’re sitting down in the loo has the absolute right to access your phone to sell you security systems, vinyl siding and a three-year subscription to Entomology Illustrated.

I beg to differ. So I wrote the following e-mail to him:


Kirby, what are you talking about? Are you actually comparing having a telephone to smoking marijuana on a street corner? I’m sorry, my friend, I usually agree with you, but you’re so wrong on this one that I’m forced to institute an “intervention” here.

When I paid for my house to be built I purchased a front door. I also paid for its installation. Should I wish to do so (and I have in the past) I can post a sign at the end of my driveway stating that solicitors and religious representatives are not permitted on the premises. This means that, in addition to prohibiting access to my driveway, it also prohibits access to my front door (which, I remind you, I paid for).

Now should some intent solicitor, or inspired prophet, decide to ignore my stated wishes (i.e. the sign) and proceed to my front door regardless, I am free to utilize a local government service (in my case the Kitsap County Sheriff’s Department) to correct the situation. Oh, by the way, since I pay property taxes (which includes the tax on my front door) I’ve paid for that government service as well.

Is this a violation of our commercially-, or religiously-minded friend’s rights to free speech? Let’s get back to that.

When I had my house built I also arranged for phone lines to be installed. I also paid for several phones. As a result of the changes after the breakup of Ma Bell, those phones belong to me. I paid for them… they’re mine. Like my front door. They’re my property.

I’ve also paid for the phone service that activates the phones. Not only that, but I also pay taxes on that service. So, in that way too, those phones are mine. And so is the service. They belong to me.

Now, I purchased my front door to allow egress and entrance to those to whom I give leave to do so (of course, my wife exercises her privileges to this service independent of my say-so!). So, too, I purchased my phone and the accompanying service (and paid taxes on both) to provide my home (and its residents) with communications into and out of the home.

I did not expend those funds to allow third-party people/organizations/businesses to use my property to pursue their own goals. Just as they have no inherent right to cross my property to knock on my front door (provided I’ve set up a sign prohibiting this), neither do they have the right to use a service and a piece of personal property, that I’ve paid for, to lay siege to chunks of my time. They certainly have no right to waylay me at times of their choosing in my own home.

A billboard on the side of the highway is free speech. A billboard hastily erected in my kitchen is trespassing.

Their “free speech” isn’t free. It costs me my time and my money. They have no right to abscond with my recourses to fund their endeavors.

Is the FCC the wrong agency to stand in as my “yard sign” proscribing access to my property for the purposes of advertisement and solicitation? Who cares. Sure, it’s fun to watch a judge stick his finger in the eye of the federal government, but once that legal nicety is settled that issue goes away.

Your point has been based on free speech and personal responsibility. Their (advertisers, religious representatives, charitable organizations, etc.) speech isn’t free to me. And I have taken the personal responsibility to add my numbers to the “Do Not Call” list (which I have also paid for via taxation, like the local sheriff).

You want a conservative value through which to see this issue? Try Property Rights.

Regards,

Ken

I’ll let you know if he responds.
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Wednesday, September 24, 2003

While giving a floor speech in the US Senate, Hon. Ted Kennedy (D, MA), Vice-Chairman of the Senate’s sub-committee on Amphibious Automobiles, said, “…before we write an 87 billion-dollar blank check.” (CBS News, Wednesday, September 24, 2003)

Read that again. Carefully.

Update!

I wrote to Jay Nordlinger (NRO) regarding this, and he used it in his most recent Impromptus.
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Tuesday, September 23, 2003

What is your problem?!!!

Yes you. That is, if you’re a rock-ribbed pro-lifer (like me) who will not vote for Arnold S in the California recall because he’s not pro-life (unlike me).

I’ll be short here because it’s not a complicated issue.

1: The Governor of California cannot rescind Roe v. Wade.
2: The Governor of California can have no substantive affect on abortion (parental notification is not, directly, abortion – and Arnold agrees with parental notification).
3: If you persist in voting for ANY OTHER Republican (much less any other member of the Romper Room Set down there in Belarus West) then Boostyourmoney will WIN the election.
4: YOU will be responsible for putting into office a person who will, most certainly and most devastatingly, work against the rest of your value set (and before you start trying to slither out from your personal responsibility, have you ever heard of a Sin of Omission?).

Deal with it, folks. You can stand on your principals; you can fall on your sword. Neither of these actions will forward your interests. Not one wit. They will, in fact, make you a collaborator with the Forces of Disaster whom you claim to oppose.

Grow up, already.

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Need I say more?

Really?
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Rush to Judgment Day

Here they come again. The Left is rounding the curve, massing for yet another attack on the First Amendment by trying to re-institute the Stalinist Doctrine. Er… The Fairness Doctrine.

It’s been clear for some time now that the Left is in full panic mode. Their bizarre displays during the lead up to Operation Iraqi Freedom was not only amusing (in its own twisted way) it was illustrative of their desperation. Scream, rant and wail as they might, the Bush administration’s policy of directly addressing the national security concerns of average Americans rolled on. This has pushed the Left right over the edge, or, if you like, shoved them forcefully further down the other side of the precipice.

So, like I tell my soccer team when they get into trouble on the field, it’s time for the Left to get back to basics. And this they have done.

Harkening back to the good ol’ days when they practically owned the levers of power in America, they’ve fallen back to those basic principals and goals that got them to that point; namely trying to control access to information, and analysis of that information. But before I get into that, I think it’s useful to understand the vast scale of the beating they’ve taken in the last few years.

Back in the ‘70s and ‘80s the Left was flush with victories: they’d won the Vietnam War, the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan was progressing well, and the Islamic Revolution in Iran was a pleasant surprise (hey, at least their loyalties are relatively consistent). They owned the United States Supreme Court, which violated the Constitution at will (death penalty ban anyone?)… or just made it up as they went along (Roe v. Wade, Doe v. Bolton… don’t bitch at me if you’re pro-choice… those decisions reeked no matter how you cut it). The Left had a lock on the US House of Representatives, Hollywood, entertainment and news television, and the newspapers (which about summed up all the available spigots of popular culture). And this control of the major media is the salient point here: What America thought was, to an impressive degree, circumscribed by what ABC, NBC and CBS and other media outlets said what was right and important.


Remember the “Most Trusted Man in America”? Walter Cronkite.

The Left’s stranglehold on power was made possible by that almost total control of information. Sometimes we forget what it was like back then, back when every time you turned on the TV you’d get skillfully directed panoply of leftist propaganda, dripping with condescension and arrogant, pedantic pontificating. And that was just the evening news. If you wanted a newspaper with a national perspective you read the New York Times, the Washington Post or, perhaps, the Los Angeles Times. Investigative journalism? 60 Minutes. Current topics talk show? Donahue. If you were interested in television programming relating to science or the humanities you watched PBS. Only. Restriction of access to information was a cornerstone of the Left’s Fortress of Facile Philosophy, and they defended that fortress with tools such as the Fairness Doctrine. Do you remember that? I do.

The Left certainly hasn’t forgotten. And they also remember when wheels started to come off. With the election of Ronald Reagan, the Nuclear Cowboy ™ in 1980 America had begun to clear its throat. Even if all the news you get is from one side of the political divide, at some point people will tire of an unrelenting banquet of negativism, contempt and self-loathing. Ronald Reagan’s message of pro-Americanism and national pride resonated, despite of (and around, and over, and through) the “mainstream” media’s gulag-grip on the microphone.

And then the nightmare began for the Left. In 1987 the Federal Communications Commission was relieved of its obligation to enforce the Fairness Doctrine. The death grip that the Left had formerly had on AM radio loosened. And before the Left could blink, the galley slaves had taken over that particular ship. Rush Limbaugh and the Excellence In Broadcasting network were born.

When Al Gore invented the Internet he, too, laid the seeds of an unhappy development for the Left. Now any shambling Neanderthal could freely spout politically incorrect information and opinions, and the Left had no way (in the US at least) to protect the masses and prevent the “proletariat” from being confused by rightwing ideas.

Then Satan himself, in the guise of Rupert Murdoch, arrived on the scene. Between Murdoch and EIB alumnus Roger Ailes, the foundations of the Left’s power over public discourse began to crack. Fox began to assert itself in television entertainment. From the profits earned through that effort sprung Fox News.

And the hits kept on coming. In amongst all that was the Republican “takeover” of the US House of Representatives. Then the Senate fell to the Republicans. Sure, William Jefferson Clinton was elected (um.. 60% X 43% = 26%… get the picture?), but once the hangover from that 8-year tour-de-myopia was over, and we started to collectively pay the bartender for it (some more than others) the message was clear. Conservatism was in its ascendancy. And the Left could to nothing about it.

So now the Left is trying to re-impose the Orwellian-named Fairness Doctrine. Experiencing a visceral fear that they’ve never encountered before, the Left has gone back to basics. They hope to soothe themselves with the truncation of open debate and discussion of ideas. And, believe me, they are pissed off. Maybe it’s the fault of the new generation of Leftists, having sat back in the comfort of the regime constructed by their forefathers. Maybe it was the inevitable outcome of the vast increase in available (lower-case) media. Either way, it’s happened, and they are not happy.

I, frankly, don’t know what they hope to accomplish. Maybe it’s a fall-back action on their part, hoping to silence AM radio. But what will that accomplish? Don’t mistake me; it would be a major setback for the Fairness Doctrine to be re-imposed. But as the Von Trapp’s maid once remarked, “Where the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window.” Think of cable and the Internet as two huge, vast, irreducibly enormous windows.

So, my advice is: just hang on. Be patient. The way ahead is clear.

HOWEVER: I’m not trying to taint my post with paranoia, but I’d be remiss if I failed to point out two sources of possible future danger: academia and judicial decisions. The left had taken over academia decades ago, and even though we’re shining the light on them, they’re still in control of that institution. It’s the left’s carefully planted time bomb. They take in young, ill-educated youths, and disgorge ill-educated (but profoundly indoctrinated) activists and, sorry, political nincompoops, whose arrogance is only exceeded by their ignorance. American universities are currently non-stop insta-tool generators for the left’s use. If something is not done to address this we will live (perhaps) to regret it.

Then there’s the third arm of the left’s attack (and I use that word intentionally): judicial activism. At every turn, whenever a left-dominated court has the chance to act, those courts act to diminish democracy in America. They overturn referenda, they alter election results, they change the rules in mid-stream. Any modality they can use to stifle self-rule and the rule of law is open for their special “interpretation.”

The point of all this? The left now understands that democracy is not the way for them. They knew that once before (see also: USSR, PRC, DDR, etc.). Perhaps they had deluded themselves over the last few decades, taking the manufactured consensus over which whey ruled as a genuine desire for their policies. But the burka is off now and they clearly see the sole remaining route to power: any method that does not rely on their policies being accepted by the general population (see also: judicial fiat, election tampering, terrorism [ELF anyone?], lies, deception and Machiavellian machinations).

So, my point is: be prepared for more of the same. Look for proportional balloting, voter registration for border-jumpers and whatever disenfranchisement-de-jour the left selects as their next counterpunch.

Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.

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Saturday, September 20, 2003

Well, here I am. And I must say I’m not in a very good mood. I’m home on a Saturday. Yeah, great. I’m working. Even better! And it’s my stupid 39th birthday. Yippy.

Did I mention that I am also working?

Sure, it’s important. Forwarding the Arsenal of Democracy, and all. But damnit. I need a day off.

Then again, I could be slogging through hot-as-hell sand, lugging an M16.

Did you know that they use sand to form molds to cast molten metal? I’m sure there’s a great analogy in there somewhere but I’m too irritable to noodle it out. Sorry.

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Sunday, September 07, 2003

The second anniversary of the attacks on September 11, 2001 is approaching. And obviously I’ve been doing some thinking on the subject. Spent a bit of time looking over the Voices project at A Small Victory. Go read it. It is important. And Michele’s worked hard on it – especially considering that it seems to be ripping her heart out.

When I look back I’m forced to curiously examine my own reactions. I seem to have experienced some kind of slow rolling emotional thunder. On That Day I reacted as most others must have, watching it unfold on the TV. I got a phone call from my mom that morning, telling me to turn on the news (which put me in an ominous mood – the last such alert from her was in January, 1986). It was a few minutes after the first plane went in, and I was (apparently unlike many) immediately thinking terrorism, though desperately hoping it wasn’t.

I watched and listened to the commentary. I flipped around the channels, finally deciding on CNN, which, bizarrely, seemed to have the most serious coverage (FOX was in hype-mode, which I found distasteful). I was turned away when the second plane hit, but heard in the background the alarmed and confused reactions. I sat there, next to my wife, Judi, in stunned indecisiveness. I really didn’t know what to think – somehow I just couldn’t believe that this was happening. It was the most mentally vapor-locked moment of my life.

I sat/stood/ paced in that frame of mind for the next hour or so. When I started to think again I suddenly got it into my head that I had to get to work. I work for the Department of the Navy, but there wasn’t really anything I needed to do at that moment that would have had any immediate relevance. But I just needed to go.

So I started to get ready, leaving the TV on. My kids were in the front room, watching. I had tried to explain to them what they were seeing. My daughter, 12 at the time, understood. My son, then 8, understood as well… unfortunately. They both looked scared and I assured them that there was no immediate danger to them.

As I busied myself preparing to leave my son came to our bedroom door and said something. I couldn’t hear from in the bathroom so I asked him again what he’d said. He told me one of the buildings had fallen.

I became enraged. Not about the building, but at him. I had assumed that he was engaging in some kind of childish overreaction or exaggeration. I told him to stop lying. We had been talking about a half hour before about the number of people in each of the buildings (we’d heard that each had about 25,000, and that a substantial number of them were probably still inside). It was inconceivable to me that one of the towers had fallen. I saw the damage when the planes hit and assumed that if they had withstood the impact and resultant structural damage that the fire was the main concern. It never even occurred to me that one might fall.

Obviously, my son was right. I sat and stared at the screen for a some minutes, watching the replays, eyeing the other tower. Reports were coming in that a helicopter had crashed into the Pentagon, in an apparently unrelated accident – an assumption I did not trust. Other planes were unaccounted for.

I told Judi to keep the kids home from school.

As I went back to getting ready for work my son came to the bedroom door again. I didn’t disbelieve him this time.

My mind had finally started to function again as I drove in to work, listening to the radio. A deep feeling of rage was percolating behind my eyes, tinged with unreasoning fear. I always knew that the building in which I work was extremely vulnerable (inviting, even) to some kind of truck bomb (I work at a large naval facility in the area). But I’d never felt the prickly tingling of personal physical exposure to the Forces of Darkness before. That may sound stupid, but my building is one of the tallest in the city (not Seattle) and would make an awfully sweet target for some Islamofascist. And we were all being told that there were still planes up there that had not reported in (I can stand in back of my building and watch planes coming to and leaving from SEATAC all day long – almost directly overhead). I actually thought about turning the car around, but realized that my coworkers and friends would be there and I was not going to be away from them, in that place, at that time.

During the next few days I made a point of emotionally distancing myself from the personal tragedy of all those poor people. I was not going to feel that. Not then. Never, if I could help it.

Fast-forward one year. The first anniversary was here and I was at work (a major point of vulnerability of my office building had been corrected, BTW), listening to John Carlson on KVI radio. He was interviewing a woman who works there who had been in New York That Day. She was in a hotel across from the WTC in a room with her husband. They had awoken to the screeching whomp of the first plane. As Carlson interviewed her she described that she and her husband had pulled back the curtains to find that one of the towers was on fire. Her husband grabbed their video camera.

She was having a tough time telling Carlson about what she saw. She had watched people gathering at the broken windows in the upper floors of the WTC. She told of watching people going to the windows, backing away and coming back again. Then she said that she watched as two people, a man and a woman, held hands and jumped.

My stomached lurched. I had stopped typing as I was listening to her, the horror and pain in her voice. She told of more people. She had been close enough to see their faces. Made eye contact with some of them. Saw them hit.

I ripped my headphones off and stepped outside. I couldn’t get the images created by her words out of my mind. I had doggedly refused to view any video or images of people leaping to their deaths. I had always believed that it is wrong to view such things. A person’s death should be a private thing. I know it’s impossible for it to be private, given the circumstances, but I don’t have to be a participant in what I can only perceive as a person’s most humiliating moment. I can imagine those people seeing the watchers, and I would be angered that they were gawking at me, like an accident at the side of the road that induces that peculiar goulash curiosity that so many people exhibit. My last words would be, “stop looking at me, you bastards!”

I’ve always known that I do not have the emotional toughness to see people dying in such grim ways without empathizing way too much. Maybe that’s cowardice, and maybe I dress it up as moral superiority. I don’t know. But that day, one year removed, I found myself unable to keep the personal tragedies out of my head. They overwhelmed me. As I knew they would.

I watched the CBS special. I’d planned not to, for the same reasons stated above, but thought to myself that I needed to witness it to remember. Not that I had forgotten, but to touch again that sense of outrage, and to commemorate those people who were, now, the reason behind so much of my work.

I remember I got very drunk that night, which was stupid because it stripped away my last, carefully built defenses. I started to talk to Judi about the radio show that I’d heard earlier. I repeated the things the woman had said, feeling an irresistible rising tide of sorrow and anger. I wanted those terrorist motherfu*kers dead. Now. I immersed myself in what the thinking must have been for those poor people who stood with fire at their backs and a yawning abyss before them. What kind of human slime would intentionally torture people like that? What kind of contemptible simians would celebrate this in the streets? I raged ceaselessly that night.

I’m glad Judi loves me… nobody else would have tolerated such a display.

I can honestly say that the first anniversary was personally more painful than was That Day. I don’t know why that was, other than I had not allowed myself to “feel” some parts of it until I was taken by surprise by the radio interview. I hadn’t expected that woman’s story to take that direction, and by the time I’d pulled the headphones off it was already too late.

I am not looking forward to Thursday.




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Well, well. Mr. Depp has retracted his anti-American carping – sort of. He had been quoted in a German magazine as saying; "America is ... like a dumb puppy that has big teeth that can bite and hurt you, aggressive." He also told our loyal allies that he would like his children to "see America as ... a broken toy,” get the feel of it, and then “get out.”

But wait! No anti-American sentiment was intended! Repeat after me, It was all a misunderstanding.”

Dipp clarified: "What I was saying was that, compared to Europe, America is a very young country and we are still growing as a nation."

I know this may come off as slightly cynical, but somehow I just don’t see his “disavowal” as conflicting with his original quotes – at least not in tone, intent, substance and (dare I say) reasoning. It’s just another reiteration of the European-style aloof arrogance and effete contempt typical of much of today’s Left. And it’s consistent with other statements of his.

I think what I’m seeing here is a laughable example of squirming. While living in France, monsieur Depp cravenly slanders his homeland, that place which has so enriched him, to a German magazine. I can imagine a frantic telephone conversation between Herr Depp and his publicist, “What the f**k are you saying?! Do you realize that Pirates is due for DVD release?”

So yes, I find myself attributing Johnny “Ditzy Chicks” Depp’s change of heart (well, words, at least) to another example of some Hollywood new-Left micro-thinker getting his skirt caught in the Internet Trap (that recently realized misfortune of traveling to Europe, thinking you’re free to trash your country in safety – hidden from the rubes and trailer trash back in the states, then finding your words embarrassingly spread around the world). So, Angry Johnny decides he needs to translate for his “dumb” countrymen, making sure their canine intelligence fully understands the heartfelt kindness of his (sym)pathetic evaluation.

One other thing: Johnny, really, lose the hat. It makes you look even more like a gay pimp.

I keep wondering why anybody, much less people from other countries, would be the slightest bit interested in the political mewling of our actors. I mean, really, don’t the Germans have something better to do than be interested in this tripe? After all, the Germans see quite good at NOT noticing things going on right under their noses.

So why pay attention to Johnny’s ankle-biting? But then again, I’ve just learned that a recent poll has shown that 19 percent of Germans believe that the US Government gave the order for the 9/11 WTC attack (nod to Michele).

So much for the vaunted intelligence of the Hun. Asshats.


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