Read (or watch) for yourselves:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20071127/wl_afp/russiavote_071127155431
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HRvb9gO-XDA
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Won't somebody please think of the children!?
Late one night last week I was falling asleep with the TV on, when something grabbed my attention, albeit momentarily and just before sleep struck. The news was on, and they were showing local high school sports scores. Just as I was about to doze off for good, I saw something that couldn't possibly be true. So I brushed it aside and fell into a soft sleep. A few days later, I realized that my fears were realized and the wussification of America had taken another bold step forward.
It was a State Soccer Championship; I don't remember the Class, I don't remember the teams, I do remember the final score: 1-1. A tie. Apparently they played two or three overtimes and then decided that the kids had had enough. They would split the state championship. This, dear readers, is the worst thing I've ever heard. Yes, it's only high school sports. Yes, it's not even a big money sport like basketball or football, but lowly soccer. And yes, it must have been pretty late, and cold, and the kids must have been just about ready for bed..... And if those are the biggest factors, it might not even be all that bad. But I'm sure they weren't the biggest factors in the decision. I have this horrible gut feeling that the big decision went something like this: "Both teams tried very hard. Both teams deserve the championship. Let's give it to both." Well, I've got news for you parents, both teams didn't deserve to get screwed. I'd bet dollars to donuts that every kid on either team would have rather lost than tied. I know I would. I played sports all my young life and I would have been pissed at age 8, at age 12, or at age 16 or 18 if this happened to me. Losing is not a good feeling, in fact it's a terrible feeling. But a necessary one. I still remember missing a penalty shot in a soccer playoff game when I was in 7th grade. We ended up losing the shootout and it still bothers me to this day. My foot caught just a touch of the ground as I swung my leg, making my foot pop up as it reached the ball and I hit a little too much of the top and side. I grounded the ball wide right of the goal as a result. I swear to you, I remember it like it was yesterday. It creates two sets of feelings in me: 1) wishing I could go back and do it again and 2) knowing that if I'm somehow ever in some similar situation I'll want the chance to redeem myself. Sounds stupid, right? Maybe childish? But I know that I'd rather have those two feelings for the rest of my life than the dull feeling of a tie. There would be no regret and thus no push for future reward. Is this what we're teaching our children???
Apparently what we're not teaching our children are the lessons of old Sesame Street episodes. The first and second season of Sesame Street were recently released on DVD with a parental warning that these episodes are not for children. One of the reasons could be that the cookie monster eats too many cookies. Not healthy. Another reason stated was the scene where a little girl is asked into a stranger's apartment and she says yes....for milk and cookies! That man could have been a killer! Strangler! Stalker! Movie Character!!! Okay, I understand bad things do happen in the world. But the inclination by parents to shield their children from the mere possibility of putting themselves in a position where they could potentially be in some sort of danger, maybe? Come on. Aren't they pulling the wool a little too far over the eyes here?!? What horrible things would a child really get out of these episodes of Sesame Street? There was an article in the New York Times Magazine where the author skewers this ultra-carefulness. The piece ends with this sentence: It (Sesame Street) encouraged us, above all, to be nice to our neighbors and to cultivate the safer pleasures that take the edge off — taking baths, eating cookies, reading. Don’t tell the kids. At least Virginia Herrernan has some common sense.
Last in my bag full of related rants today is a piece I saw on 60 minutes recently. It seems that some of those spoiled, babied, 'win just for trying' kids are starting to make it into the workplace. And they're whining. A lot. Funny thing about real life: you don't get points for trying. One of the highlights from this story was the parent of a college student calling the kid's professor on the phone and saying: "Hey, why is my kid getting a C-? I pay $20,000 a year, she should be getting an A!" Makes perfect sense, right? And (shockingly, at least to me) this trend has continued into the office, with parents calling the boss of the child to discuss their progress and their future. Talk about stunted growth! The scariest thing is, there are companies out there that are bending to the needs of these know-nothing cry babies. There's a reason you play Tag as a kid. Survival of the fittest. Same thing with dodgeball. Same thing with one team winning in gym class and the other losing. If your kid has low self-esteem because he stinks at floor hockey, take him (or her- see I can be politically correct) outside and explain to them that if you want to get better at anything in life it takes hard work and practice. Breeding an entire generation of "not-losers" is unacceptable. It has to be stopped. It will bring this country to its knees. It will strangle our workforce until it's got it right where it wants it with the last breath of our livelihoods, our economy, our work ethic, about to run out. Then, just as all is about to die, it will let go. Because it is too apathetic to finish the job. Because it doesn't have that killer instinct. And quietly, it will fade back into mediocrity.
It was a State Soccer Championship; I don't remember the Class, I don't remember the teams, I do remember the final score: 1-1. A tie. Apparently they played two or three overtimes and then decided that the kids had had enough. They would split the state championship. This, dear readers, is the worst thing I've ever heard. Yes, it's only high school sports. Yes, it's not even a big money sport like basketball or football, but lowly soccer. And yes, it must have been pretty late, and cold, and the kids must have been just about ready for bed..... And if those are the biggest factors, it might not even be all that bad. But I'm sure they weren't the biggest factors in the decision. I have this horrible gut feeling that the big decision went something like this: "Both teams tried very hard. Both teams deserve the championship. Let's give it to both." Well, I've got news for you parents, both teams didn't deserve to get screwed. I'd bet dollars to donuts that every kid on either team would have rather lost than tied. I know I would. I played sports all my young life and I would have been pissed at age 8, at age 12, or at age 16 or 18 if this happened to me. Losing is not a good feeling, in fact it's a terrible feeling. But a necessary one. I still remember missing a penalty shot in a soccer playoff game when I was in 7th grade. We ended up losing the shootout and it still bothers me to this day. My foot caught just a touch of the ground as I swung my leg, making my foot pop up as it reached the ball and I hit a little too much of the top and side. I grounded the ball wide right of the goal as a result. I swear to you, I remember it like it was yesterday. It creates two sets of feelings in me: 1) wishing I could go back and do it again and 2) knowing that if I'm somehow ever in some similar situation I'll want the chance to redeem myself. Sounds stupid, right? Maybe childish? But I know that I'd rather have those two feelings for the rest of my life than the dull feeling of a tie. There would be no regret and thus no push for future reward. Is this what we're teaching our children???
Apparently what we're not teaching our children are the lessons of old Sesame Street episodes. The first and second season of Sesame Street were recently released on DVD with a parental warning that these episodes are not for children. One of the reasons could be that the cookie monster eats too many cookies. Not healthy. Another reason stated was the scene where a little girl is asked into a stranger's apartment and she says yes....for milk and cookies! That man could have been a killer! Strangler! Stalker! Movie Character!!! Okay, I understand bad things do happen in the world. But the inclination by parents to shield their children from the mere possibility of putting themselves in a position where they could potentially be in some sort of danger, maybe? Come on. Aren't they pulling the wool a little too far over the eyes here?!? What horrible things would a child really get out of these episodes of Sesame Street? There was an article in the New York Times Magazine where the author skewers this ultra-carefulness. The piece ends with this sentence: It (Sesame Street) encouraged us, above all, to be nice to our neighbors and to cultivate the safer pleasures that take the edge off — taking baths, eating cookies, reading. Don’t tell the kids. At least Virginia Herrernan has some common sense.
Last in my bag full of related rants today is a piece I saw on 60 minutes recently. It seems that some of those spoiled, babied, 'win just for trying' kids are starting to make it into the workplace. And they're whining. A lot. Funny thing about real life: you don't get points for trying. One of the highlights from this story was the parent of a college student calling the kid's professor on the phone and saying: "Hey, why is my kid getting a C-? I pay $20,000 a year, she should be getting an A!" Makes perfect sense, right? And (shockingly, at least to me) this trend has continued into the office, with parents calling the boss of the child to discuss their progress and their future. Talk about stunted growth! The scariest thing is, there are companies out there that are bending to the needs of these know-nothing cry babies. There's a reason you play Tag as a kid. Survival of the fittest. Same thing with dodgeball. Same thing with one team winning in gym class and the other losing. If your kid has low self-esteem because he stinks at floor hockey, take him (or her- see I can be politically correct) outside and explain to them that if you want to get better at anything in life it takes hard work and practice. Breeding an entire generation of "not-losers" is unacceptable. It has to be stopped. It will bring this country to its knees. It will strangle our workforce until it's got it right where it wants it with the last breath of our livelihoods, our economy, our work ethic, about to run out. Then, just as all is about to die, it will let go. Because it is too apathetic to finish the job. Because it doesn't have that killer instinct. And quietly, it will fade back into mediocrity.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Much ado about....something?
A gaffe. A blunder. A chink in the armor. These were some of the phrases I’ve heard to describe the week Hillary Clinton has had. First she stumbled in the debate, over illegal immigrants being issued drivers’ licenses. Then there was hubby Bill referring to her male counterparts as “boys.” (Plus, he was essentially saying they were picking on her.) But the big story – the huge, time stopping, mind blowing, jump out of your seat and ram your head right into the wall story – was that one of her aides may have (read: did) plant a question with an audience member. “Here, young college student, ask Senator Clinton this question about climate change.” This is the big story? This is a joke right? I mean, I certainly do not condone the idea of having candidates asked questions prepared by their own people. In fact, I don’t even believe a politician should be given questions from a reporter in advance of an interview, and that includes sitting presidents. You should be an adult and answer the questions asked of you. You got a degree from a much better college then I did, you’ve probably been debating for the better part of your life, you’re the leader of the free world, and yet somehow you can’t be expected to answer the hard hitting questions of Katie Couric without seeing them first? Come on. So, again, I’m not saying we should give Hillary’s camp a pass here because I don’t think anyone should do it. What bothers me is the uproar.
All over the news channels since the event they’ve talked about the outrage, the disbelief, the damage this may do to Hillary’s campaign. And yet, to this point, I’ve only heard one person (Time columnist Joe Klein) say the magic words: EVERYBODY DOES THIS! I would be shocked if a single one of those types of political events goes by without the candidate being asked a staged question. Especially in the presidential arena! And it’s not like this is new. You can date this practice back decades as a commonplace tactic candidates use to get a particular message out to the people. You think they weren’t planting questions when Kennedy took on Nixon over 40 years ago? Think about it, if no one’s going to ask a question about Social Security while I’m speaking at Columbia University, well then we’ll just plant someone to ask it because all the major news outlets are here and we need to push our position.
So why the outcry over this situation? There are a few possibilities. One reason could be simply that it’s a slow news cycle. Yes, there was a baby born with four arms and four legs in India, but that’s not going to sell papers. There’s still a war going on, but people are awfully tired of that on a day by day basis. So, here’s a crumb we can grow into a loaf with legs. Maybe even four legs! Haha! Sorry.
Another reason is the frontrunner syndrome. Any little negative that comes out of the Clinton camp is going to be scrutinized and derided more than any other campaign because she’s the leader and that’s what we do: we rip down those on high. Still another possibility is that the media has become awfully bored of writing the same story every single day: Hillary leads by 35 points; Obama, Edwards unable to gain ground. Little things like this make journalists foam at the mouth because maybe, just maybe, we might have a race here. Can Obama capitalize? Will Edwards pounce? The problem with that logic, again, is that the story only has merit if she’s actually the only one doing it. Right now she’s the only one we know of that does it. Or is she?
Yes, Hillary Clinton’s aide asked a college student to read a pre-packaged question written by her campaign. But how does that compare to our president, while campaigning for a second term, screening every person in each of his audiences? That campaign didn’t get caught screening audiences, they flat out admitted it. The questions didn’t have to be planted by their people because there was no possibility of getting a tough question. Any person who may have disagreed with the president was not let in. So where’s the real injustice here? Is it in the coverage of a staged question? Or is it in the lack of coverage in the fact that our president, The President of the United States, hasn’t been asked a legitimate question in the last six years? Which one bothers you more?
Write back to me on this. Agree with me. Disagree with me. Yell at me. Start a debate. Just talk. If anyone out there is reading this, this is the point of this site, the point of the process. Fight with me. Despite what you may have heard there’s nothing wrong with a little healthy debate, especially an un-staged one….
All over the news channels since the event they’ve talked about the outrage, the disbelief, the damage this may do to Hillary’s campaign. And yet, to this point, I’ve only heard one person (Time columnist Joe Klein) say the magic words: EVERYBODY DOES THIS! I would be shocked if a single one of those types of political events goes by without the candidate being asked a staged question. Especially in the presidential arena! And it’s not like this is new. You can date this practice back decades as a commonplace tactic candidates use to get a particular message out to the people. You think they weren’t planting questions when Kennedy took on Nixon over 40 years ago? Think about it, if no one’s going to ask a question about Social Security while I’m speaking at Columbia University, well then we’ll just plant someone to ask it because all the major news outlets are here and we need to push our position.
So why the outcry over this situation? There are a few possibilities. One reason could be simply that it’s a slow news cycle. Yes, there was a baby born with four arms and four legs in India, but that’s not going to sell papers. There’s still a war going on, but people are awfully tired of that on a day by day basis. So, here’s a crumb we can grow into a loaf with legs. Maybe even four legs! Haha! Sorry.
Another reason is the frontrunner syndrome. Any little negative that comes out of the Clinton camp is going to be scrutinized and derided more than any other campaign because she’s the leader and that’s what we do: we rip down those on high. Still another possibility is that the media has become awfully bored of writing the same story every single day: Hillary leads by 35 points; Obama, Edwards unable to gain ground. Little things like this make journalists foam at the mouth because maybe, just maybe, we might have a race here. Can Obama capitalize? Will Edwards pounce? The problem with that logic, again, is that the story only has merit if she’s actually the only one doing it. Right now she’s the only one we know of that does it. Or is she?
Yes, Hillary Clinton’s aide asked a college student to read a pre-packaged question written by her campaign. But how does that compare to our president, while campaigning for a second term, screening every person in each of his audiences? That campaign didn’t get caught screening audiences, they flat out admitted it. The questions didn’t have to be planted by their people because there was no possibility of getting a tough question. Any person who may have disagreed with the president was not let in. So where’s the real injustice here? Is it in the coverage of a staged question? Or is it in the lack of coverage in the fact that our president, The President of the United States, hasn’t been asked a legitimate question in the last six years? Which one bothers you more?
Write back to me on this. Agree with me. Disagree with me. Yell at me. Start a debate. Just talk. If anyone out there is reading this, this is the point of this site, the point of the process. Fight with me. Despite what you may have heard there’s nothing wrong with a little healthy debate, especially an un-staged one….
Friday, November 2, 2007
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place
So, it's Friday night. And I'm home. Not the most exciting life. Figured I'd curl up on the couch, watch Spider-Man 3 and call it a night. I have to go into work tomorrow, so I thought I'd just chill out and get a little rest. But no such luck. At approximately 10pm, about 2/3 of the way through the worst Spidey yet, I started hearing this noise that sounded like a lawnmower. I didn't think anything of it at first, probably because the guy across the street mows his lawn virtually every day. So I'm used to the noise. But then I realized it's 10:00. And then I realized the noise was getting louder and louder. And then I saw the light. I rushed towards my living room window and split open the blinds to see: a helicopter. Actually, the lowest flying helicopter I've ever seen. And it had its spotlight shining down on the top of my street. Naturally I had to run outside to get a better look.
I stood on my porch, gawking, and realized this might be a fun time to get some video. So I went back inside and grabbed my cell phone. I brought it outside and stood on the top step, recording. But there's no zoom on my phone when shooting video, so it was only a tiny spot of light on an otherwise black screen. Realizing my failure, I started to walk back inside to put my phone down and I could have sworn there was a light on me at the last moment before I rounded the corner into my kitchen. I put the phone back down and went back out to see if I was crazy. The light didn't seem to be looking at me any more, if it ever was, but then I saw a different, slow moving light coming up my street. As the State cruiser reached the bottom of my driveway I heard a phantom voice yell, "Get inside! Get in the house and lock the doors!!!" At first I kind of pulled my neck back, like huh? Then it registered and I waved at the cop and went inside. I locked my door. And I thought......aaaaahhhhhh Middletown. I put Spider-Man back on and started watching again. About ten minutes later I got up to get a glass of water and what do I see? Oh about half a dozen cops in my back yard with flashlights and dogs. This was getting interesting. So I called the Middletown PD.
-Middletown Dispatch: "Middletown Police Department, dispatch."
-Me: "Yeah, how ya doin. I live on Hillside Ave and there's a chopper hovering over my house. Has been for about half an hour now."
-Middletown Dispatch: "Yup. There's a guy on the loose. Stay inside and keep your doors locked. Don't leave!"
-Me: Uh. Okay. Thanks?
-Middletown Dispatch: Right.
So, having done what he said, I figure what the hell. Guess that's all I'm getting. So I lay back down on the couch, more Spidey. About 40 more minutes go by and I'm watching what I'm pretty sure (i.e. desperately hoping) is the final fight scene between the ridiculous Sand guy and Foreman from That 70s Show versus the two loser heroes, when the chopper noise, which never totally left, starts getting louder and louder and louder. So loud, the fork on my table starts to dance and the windows begin to rattle. Visions of Baghdad start running through my head. Or at least visions of scenes from movies that had Baghdad and choppers in them. And then, from directly outside my front window comes the brightest light you'll ever see, shining down perfectly through the slightly slanted blinds, right on me. Literally, right at ME. Laying on the couch, under a blanket, with a big shocked/shitty grin on my face. I slowly pull my hands out from under the covers, because I don't want the sniper I imagine to be targeting my forehead to get the wrong idea and think I've got a semi-automatic hidden under my brown fleece blanket. I slowly move my hands across my chest and intertwine my fingers. The chopper sits, stares, sees what it wants to see, and slowly, methodically, glides away.
It's now 11:37pm. I still haven't finished watching that dumb movie. They still haven't caught their fugitive. The lights and the chopper and the neverending stream of cops still linger on my street. I'm sitting in front of my computer in gleeful disbelief. And all I can think to write is: just another night in the ghetto.
I stood on my porch, gawking, and realized this might be a fun time to get some video. So I went back inside and grabbed my cell phone. I brought it outside and stood on the top step, recording. But there's no zoom on my phone when shooting video, so it was only a tiny spot of light on an otherwise black screen. Realizing my failure, I started to walk back inside to put my phone down and I could have sworn there was a light on me at the last moment before I rounded the corner into my kitchen. I put the phone back down and went back out to see if I was crazy. The light didn't seem to be looking at me any more, if it ever was, but then I saw a different, slow moving light coming up my street. As the State cruiser reached the bottom of my driveway I heard a phantom voice yell, "Get inside! Get in the house and lock the doors!!!" At first I kind of pulled my neck back, like huh? Then it registered and I waved at the cop and went inside. I locked my door. And I thought......aaaaahhhhhh Middletown. I put Spider-Man back on and started watching again. About ten minutes later I got up to get a glass of water and what do I see? Oh about half a dozen cops in my back yard with flashlights and dogs. This was getting interesting. So I called the Middletown PD.
-Middletown Dispatch: "Middletown Police Department, dispatch."
-Me: "Yeah, how ya doin. I live on Hillside Ave and there's a chopper hovering over my house. Has been for about half an hour now."
-Middletown Dispatch: "Yup. There's a guy on the loose. Stay inside and keep your doors locked. Don't leave!"
-Me: Uh. Okay. Thanks?
-Middletown Dispatch: Right.
So, having done what he said, I figure what the hell. Guess that's all I'm getting. So I lay back down on the couch, more Spidey. About 40 more minutes go by and I'm watching what I'm pretty sure (i.e. desperately hoping) is the final fight scene between the ridiculous Sand guy and Foreman from That 70s Show versus the two loser heroes, when the chopper noise, which never totally left, starts getting louder and louder and louder. So loud, the fork on my table starts to dance and the windows begin to rattle. Visions of Baghdad start running through my head. Or at least visions of scenes from movies that had Baghdad and choppers in them. And then, from directly outside my front window comes the brightest light you'll ever see, shining down perfectly through the slightly slanted blinds, right on me. Literally, right at ME. Laying on the couch, under a blanket, with a big shocked/shitty grin on my face. I slowly pull my hands out from under the covers, because I don't want the sniper I imagine to be targeting my forehead to get the wrong idea and think I've got a semi-automatic hidden under my brown fleece blanket. I slowly move my hands across my chest and intertwine my fingers. The chopper sits, stares, sees what it wants to see, and slowly, methodically, glides away.
It's now 11:37pm. I still haven't finished watching that dumb movie. They still haven't caught their fugitive. The lights and the chopper and the neverending stream of cops still linger on my street. I'm sitting in front of my computer in gleeful disbelief. And all I can think to write is: just another night in the ghetto.
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