Monday, November 30, 2009

Hate Crime Versus Terrorism

I would like to take a break from the silly for a moment and talk about a serious semantic issue that really bugs me: When is a crime terrorism?

Two years ago, Congress passed hate crime legislation. My problem with this legislation is that is differentiates a hate crime from terrorism.

Wikipedia defines a hate crime as:
Hate crimes (also known as bias-motivated crimes) occur when a perpetrator targets a victim because of his or her perceived membership in a certain social group, usually defined by racial group, religion, sexual orientation, disability, ethnicity, nationality, age, gender, gender identity, or political affiliation.
If we compare that to Wikipedia's attempt at a definition of terrorism, we (I) see overlap:
Terrorism is the systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion. At present, there is no internationally agreed definition of terrorism. Common definitions of terrorism refer only to those violent acts which are intended to create fear (terror), are perpetrated for an ideological goal (as opposed to a lone attack), and deliberately target or disregard the safety of non-combatants.

Both of these definitions, at their core, translate to: "A person or group of people from a specific group is targeted for assault to send a message to the group at large." The message is usually terror.

I realize this is one area where semantics is of the highest importance. To call something terrorism that was simply a random act of violence would create unjust and disproportionate penalties for petty thugs.

But we should not be so hesitant to call out terrorism when it happens. There are all kinds of terrorism, both domestic and international. Just because a person is white and just because he hates abortionists does not make him not a terrorist. When a person hates homosexuals and scrawls threatening messages on their property to incite fear (another word for terror), that is terrorism.

In short: hate crimes did not need their own legislation because there was already legislation on the books covering these "different" kinds of crimes: they are called anti-terror laws, and any hate criminal should be persecuted under these laws.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

America's Next Mighty Caesar

In an effort to A) populate this blog with good writing, B) share some of my favorite works published elsewhere, C) maybe drum up some interest in starting a comedy writing workshop group because I miss the old writers meetings from when I worked on the Times New Roman, I am going to be publishing several of my old comedy pieces. Enjoy.

This piece was published in the October 2005 issue of the Northeastern Times New Roman.

When I was in Rome recently, roaming if I wanted to, I came across a few pieces of a statue carved in the image of an old Roman of some sort. I’m not sure whom it was meant to portray. Maybe he was a Caesar.

The sheer height this stone guy must have been! You’d have to measure him in days, not feet.

That got me to wondering: Why don’t we build things that spectacular any more? Is it one of the many regrettable side-effects of the abolition of unpaid indentured servitude? Perhaps. Or maybe it’s because we don’t have anyone to build monuments to any more.

Consider it. We no longer have mighty Caesars. We don’t even have Pharaohs. We have piddling “presidents” who are “elected” “periodically” by the “public.” There is nothing mighty about that.

I believe monuments are no longer built on the scale they used to be because there is nothing to monumentalize to that scale. All our leaders are half-hearted and lack the commitment needed to be truly great enough for a large monument.

But you know what? You know who doesn’t lack the commitment for glory? Glory on a moon-touching scale? Me. That’s who. I know how to whoop people with blunt and sharp objects. I know how to oppress the poor. I know how to dictate commands to secret police. And I look rather dashing in a flowing toga with a crown of leaves. I have all the qualifications to be the next Mighty Caesar. America’s next Mighty Caesar.

Elections will be a thing of the past as I hurl America into the future. There will be no need for them, because I am willing to rule until the time of my death, whereupon I will be gracious enough to appoint a successor with my full confidence to carry on my legacy.

Taxes will no longer be an issue. I will eliminate all taxes and instead require a tribute of 50% of all material assets. This generous allowance on my part will endear me to the people. However, I will set out the military if needed to keep people from giving more out of their great reverence for me. A line must be drawn.

America’s divisive foreign policy will be a debate of the past. I will have a foreign policy everyone can agree on: It’s ours and we’re going to take it.

I will also solve several problems you didn’t know were problems. October will become Arttober. The streets will be torn up and filled with delicious mounds of salami, and mailboxes will be stocked with mustard for convenience. I will go farther than making clothing optional; I will make it illegal. Except for old people. And fatties.

Then, and only then, will I be ready for my monument. We will dig up the entire state of Kansas (will you miss it? I know I won’t), and from its dirt form clay, and with that clay build a true-to-life representation of my bulging muscles and rugged, manly good looks ten million days tall! Then, with the top ten best sculptors in the world, we will carve my face into the moon so the entire world will always remember the Mighty Caesar Art.

All hail Mighty Caesar (me)!

Monday, November 23, 2009

A Longer Beard Does not Make You a Champion. A Cage Beard Does.

Today, Emily sent me a video from the 1991 National Beard and Moustache Championship in Tacoma, WA. When the video first started, I figured here's a guy whose girlfriend let him grow his beard for six months instead of two. He's got a long beard, sure, but it's all scraggly and unkempt. Maybe that's how these people roll, maybe not. I know for a fact that my beard is significantly more luxurious than that, and if all they need me to do to win the prize is grow it out for six months, show me where to sign up, I'll happily take their prize.

But then I got schooled. I got schooled hard. If there's one lesson I've learned in life, it's this: There is always someone more badass than you. All I will say is: Beard Gate. Behold:

Travel Abroad

In an effort to A) populate this blog with good writing, B) share some of my favorite works published elsewhere, C) maybe drum up some interest in starting a comedy writing workshop group because I miss the old writers meetings from when I worked on the Times New Roman, I am going to be publishing several of my old comedy pieces. Enjoy.

This piece was published in the February 2005 issue of the Northeastern Times New Roman. The photo used here was the photo originally intended to be used with this piece, but was not the photo used in publication.

As a college student, you will probably be doing a lot of travel over the next three or four years to Europe, Asia, and Canada. World travel is the best gift you can give yourself (after perhaps a 4-wheeler or a PlayStation 2), but before you embark on your journey, you should know a little more about how to travel. If this is your first time traveling, you will probably want to travel somewhere in Europe, because if there’s any reason to travel to a foreign country, it is to closely emulate the environment you’re used to.

First you are going to have to decide on a destination. As an experienced world traveler I can tell you all European cities are the same, so get out your map of Europe and a dart.

So you’ve hit Vienna. What’s that? Oh, it’s in Austria. No, Austria, no kangaroos. No, not the other England. You know what? Just throw your dart again. Ah, good, Rome.

Rome is the cultural political fashion history capital of the world. All you need to know about Rome to understand its vast historical significance is summed up in the B-52s classic Roam If You Want To, which both Hillary Duff and Mary Kate and Ashley Olson have cleverly used in movies about Rome.

You will need to buy your airline tickets. Let me tell you, international business class is the only way to fly. If you can’t afford business class (and you still want to go), you can always fly what airline companies quaintly call “economy class.” Let’s just say supply is never more than demand.

When you arrive at the airport (at least 24 hours in advance for international flights), you should check your luggage (otherwise it can’t get lost), find your gate (and number and a letter?! Information overload!), and sit patiently. You’ll undoubtedly get restless sitting at the gate. This is the perfect opportunity to get started on your vacation shopping!

The airport is full of reasonably priced shops filled with friendly staff. Here you can buy anything from a Snicker’s bar ($7.00) to extra luggage (5 souls). If shopping is not your thing, you can watch (but not listen to) one of the many airport TVs showing a program you’d rather not watch.

Once you’ve boarded the plane, sit patiently through the flight crew instructions (yes, they still do that) and get ready for an excitement-packed flight! If second-run family movies aren’t your idea of a good time, you can always enjoy your complimentary issue of Sky Mall, the on-board catalogue of items for purchase. The selection in Sky Mall is vast, including puppies, houses, and mail-order brides.

After the eight hours of whacky fun (a.k.a. your flight) you will deboard the plane. Now you are in Rome! You will wait patiently at the luggage carousel until everyone else has left with their bags. Then you will report to lost luggage. Here you will discover that your bags have gone to Vienna, where the airline company though you had intended to go. They also will not be able to get your bags back until three days after you return home. Don’t worry though, you didn’t come to Europe empty-handed! You just arrived there that way.

The bad news is now you don’t have any luggage (don’t you wish you had bought extra at the airport?), which means you don’t have any clothes. The good news is: wardrobe overhaul! If you can’t afford Italian designer prices, don’t worry, Italians have second-hand clothing stores too.

Once you arrive in Rome you will probably want to see the sites. Don’t waste your time on things like the Coliseum or the Roman Forum, you have probably seen plenty of pictures of these things already. It’s not worth the 10 Euro to walk through something you have already seen pictures of, even if it is old.

My suggestion is that you rent a car and drive to one of Italy’s many topless beaches. Don’t worry, you don’t have to take your clothes off, you can just sit and observe with your binoculars from afar. I must warn you, however, there is no bouncer or other approval process for admittance onto the nude beaches. This means old ladies with droopy racks can take their shirts off. Yuck.

But Art! I don’t speak a word of Italian! How will I get by? One word of advice, my friend: Italians love when you talk down to them, especially in English. But if you’d rather make the effort to speak Italian, here’s a simple trick: just add “O” to the end of every word. Youo willo beo talkingo Italiano ino noo timeo!

I have found that Italy is best enjoyed from indoors, especially the inside of a hotel room. With such exciting features as CNN World, miniature bottles of alcohol, and a bed, hotel rooms are non-stop thrills. If you get homesick while in Italy, don’t worry. Just go into a McDonalds; their employees barely speak English too!

Although they wish they could, Italians do not accept American Dollars. This means you need to find an exchange booth and exchange your real money for Euros. Just think of them like Disney Dollars: they are all sorts of pretty colors and the conversions don’t add up nicely so you spend more than you think you are spending. By the way, all Europeans prefer it when you refer to American Dollars as “real money.”

By the time your trip is finished, you will probably spend most of the money you have. When you finish shoving and breaking everything to fit into your new suitcases, it is time to go to the airport and get back to real civilization.

On the airplane you will be asked to fill out a few customs forms for reentry to the US. These forms are simple, but if you do it wrong you are obviously a terrorist seeking entry for devious reasons. You will be detained indefinitely.

Friday, November 20, 2009

In Defense of the New Retweet Feature

Another something has changed on the Internet, so wouldn't you know it, everyone is upset. But the latest major Death of the Internet--the retweet reconfiguration--is a positive change. It is a positive change for more than one reason:
  • It preserves the author's intent by preserving their tweet exactly as they wrote it. How many times have you had to truncate someone else's tweet to accommodate for their user name? The original tweeter picked their words carefully, and although it has become an accepted practice to remove select words to make room for retweeting superfluence, that's actually terrible citation practice. As a writer, I love the preservation of intent.
  • It draws attention to new personalities. More times than I can count I've scanned a tweet and replied to the person who posted it, only then to realize they were retweeting someone else. Putting someone else's user picture, username, and full tweet in my stream forces me to pause and consider it, which is the (presumed) intent of the retweeter.
  • It does not violate your personal space, so shut up. I've heard that some people find this new feature intrusive or otherwise violating of their personal Twitter space. This is total bullshit. Retweeting has been around since Twitter has been around and it was not considered a violation. Retweets have always been content in your stream put there by people you choose to follow. This has not changed in any way: the content is tagged as "retweeted by so-and-so." Honestly. It's the same thing.
  • You add nothing of value to a retweet. Another major complaint about this change is that retweets are no longer able to be annotated. But here's the thing: do you really add value when you add "love this" "check this out" or "smart" to a retweet? You do not need to add an extra text to endorse a retweet. You are retweeting it; that is an endorsement. And if you really need to add your own commentary within the tweet (have we forgotten there are venues for commentary outside of Twitter? Maybe you could blog it!), they did not somehow deactivate the old way of doing it. People will still know what you mean if you type "is this you in this video lol RT @username blah blah blah."

Friday, November 13, 2009

Emily Watches Star Trek

For three months this past summer, Emily was unemployed; this gave her ample time to watch DVDs while applying for jobs. After a single cajole by your humble author, Emily was convinced to sit down with the entire seven seasons of Star Trek: The Next Generation and watch them from Encounter at Farpoint to All Good Things... Since this is the 21st century, she was on gchat, keeping me up to date on all the latest.

Following are some of my favorite exerpts from Emily's first viewing of any Star Trek television series.



Emily:
MAN IN SKIRT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Later]

Emily: MORE MEN IN SKIRTS
they're in some sort of dress uniform and all wearing skirts
me: well those are not skirts though
because they are wearing pants
those are just long jackets
Emily: well when hipster girls wear leggings they are still wearing skirts

---

Emily:
the Picard doppelganger almost had sex with Dr. Crusher
Me: wait, there's a Picard doppelganger?
Emily: yeah he got kidnapped
with three other people
and a doppelganger was running the ship
Me: oh yeah
Emily: and now he apparently needs a vacation

---

Emily: Picard has spent most of the current episode in a metallic Speedo
me:
haha
Emily:
he also just punched a Ferengi, which I enjoy
me:
I believe he will get it on in this episode
Emily:
it's looking that way

[Later]

Emily: picard DID IT

---

Emily: this episode is WEIRD
me: which one is that?
Tin Man?
Emily:
no, the one after that
there's this awkward engineering guy
who keeps going into the holideck to have sexual fantasies about Troi
me:
oh, Barclay

---


Emily: Picard just said "my love is a beaver"
me:
haha
oh, is he reciting things to mom troi?
Emily:
wait FEVER
his love is a fever
me:
haha
Emily: but yes, he was awkwardly trying to pretend to woo her, and then started spouting Shakespeare
me:
that scene is classic


---

Emily: well Data is reading poetry
me: ohh
the poem about Spot
Emily: Ode to Spot
he says Spot isn't sentient
I think Bernard is sentient

Monday, November 9, 2009

Internet People

By sheer coincidence, I was asked by American Public Media's Jon Gordon to say a few words about making people friends on the internet for the radio segment Future Tense. About one sentence of mine was used in the beginning of the segment as anecdotal evidence that social media does not isolate people but, in fact, it gives people richer, wider social circles.

And there's no doubt it's true. I've had in-person, meaningful interactions (which is to say they've had something interesting, new, funny, etc to say) with fully 45 people I met through Twitter. That's almost half the people I follow on Twitter who I also know in real life. But more importantly, that's 45 new people in my community I would have very likely not met otherwise. And yes, this includes Emily, who I will have been dating for a year in January.

I was trying to dig for some deeper meaning to this, but I think this is actually pretty profound on its own. This is a the 21st century story.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Surly Darkness: The Max Fischer of Beers

I had a glass of Surly Darkness for the second time last night. I had had it once before and been truly unimpressed. But when our waitress came around and told us the non-"domestic" (don't get me started) beer selection and we heard "Surly Darkness," we all jumped and said "Yes! That one!" Including me. Even though I remember not caring for it.

And, once again, I had it and did not care for it. Because it is the Max Fischer of beers.

Surly Darkness could be good, but it tries to do too many things at once. I don't even know what flavors I'm supposed to be looking for or experiencing. It has so many things going on that not one of them is done well by my tongue. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be a hopstravaganza, if it's supposed to be like drinking a loaf of bread, or if it's supposed to have fruity/woody/spiced overtones. And I'm pretty sure the reason I can't tell is because it does all of these things at full tilt.

So, Max Fischer of beers, I'm not going to say you're bad. I'm just going to say I don't think you're good enough for me. But there are plenty of Margaret Yangs out there.