Global Cop Rock

FX’s ‘Over There’ is a cinema verité war drama from legendary television producer Steven Bochco, who we have to thank for such sacred American time-wasters as Hill Street Blues and Doogie Howser, MD. This new series about the Iraq conflict is supposed to be extra captivating, because of unique twists of modern warfare.

You know the drill. Prozac-laden lady soldiers in Mosul have their limbs blown off by IEDs while exchanging poignant text messages with their gay teenage offspring back home. The plots are drawn from a grab bag of what the writers (inevitably white people in Burbank or Connecticut) see as “issues”. And the story is told, of course, with lots of confusing, handheld camera shots.

So of course the right wing press gets wind of this – and hackles are raised. I caught a few moments of Bochco being subjected to Fox’s O’Reilly – who scolded him about how Hollywood better not do its usual number on the military, and make them out to be vicious, barking morons – or victims of the horror. So today, on cue, the right side of the ‘sphere is abuzz with the fact that those Liberal Hollywood jerks have indeed done it again, by screwing up the true nature of the military in combat.

(Not everyone agrees, of course. Nutter extraordinaire Jason Raimundo at Antiwar.com sees the whole thing as jingoistic propaganda. But then again, the White House could issue a statement asserting that “waffles are delicious” and ole J.R. would spray on for several heavily-linked pages about how waffles are an essentially fascist construct.)

One day, I hope, the honest stories will emerge from this conflict - long after the roar of partisan argument has lost it's brutal edge.

Patriot Axe Grinders

The extensive network of public surveillance cameras in England has played a direct role in allowing law enforcement to capture some of the suspects in the recent bombings, and uproot a portion of a surprisingly extensive terror network.

And they're tightening the laws about religious hate speech - which has been emanating from the mouths of radical clerics in Great Britain for the past few years.

And finally there are reports today that weeks before 7/7 British officials backed down when the U.S. tipped them off about Haroon Rashid Aswat. At that time he was under suspicion, and the Yanks wanted him arrested. Now, turns out, he's supposedly in the same terrorist cell as the bombers.

How does all of this add up? In America I know it's fashionable, in some circles, to cluck about the excesses of the Patriot Act, and the famous "slippery slope" which (we are told) leads to brownshirt brigades and paranoia. And to be truthful I've had my concerns too.

But both of our countries, Great Britain and United States, are forced to make sober compromises when it comes to freedom and security. And I'm wondering if the people who are constantly waving their arms about civil liberties don't look like they really just have a political axe to grind, and no serious solutions of their own.

Last Century Interlude

And on a mission over china
The lady opens up her arms

If you're driving into the city one morning, and the sun is coming up and illuminating buildings and traffic at an angle, and the too-aggressive young men in their pressed blue shirts are perched at the corner next to the girl with the heels and bluejeans, gazing up in sunglasses waiting for the light at the crosswalk to get to work, and you're switching lanes, going past this at a good clip and feeling a little bit thoughtful -

- then a good song to have playing on the CD that moment is "Sweethearts" from Camper Van Beethoven's Key Lime Pie, with it's interplay of fiddle and pedal-steel guitar and sepia-toned imagery of World War Two and it's aftermath, a masterpiece of midtempo alt-rock from the previous century when the Cold War loomed large.

My little brothers discovered this album, and some of the other precious gems from this era, and for me it was some consolation to see the enduring appeal. Few people make music quite this consistently this good anymore. And yet corrupt corporations keep serving up warmed-over crap.

Rockets, Math, and Science

The shuttle needs to be replaced. From the beginning it's been a Frankenstein contraption that was built to serve multiple needs and make work for various constituencies.

But today it's 30 years old. And it seems like the main accomplishment for each launch from now on will simply be getting the thing off the ground and back safely. It's a triumph of management, process control, and engineering. I'm not disparaging the necessity of these pursuits - but they aren't serving any meaningful goals with regards to science or exploration.

And I am huge space buff, mind you. I'm familiar with all of the 'why' arguments, about how exploration is expensive, or we should fix our planet first, blah blah blah. I'm not going to argue it. People enter that debate with the certainty of their positions, and minds are rarely changed. But I have discovered that the majority of people believe that exploration - gradually moving away from our home rock - seems right on some pre-conscious level.

We just need a better way to get up there. We need to constantly improve in this area. And it would be nice if it came with a double-barreled infusion into science and engineering at the secondary and university levels, like they did when Eisenhower started NASA. Enough American kids are graduating that want to "go into film" or be an R&B star - and meanwhile the universities in India and China are cracking out hundreds of thousands of world-class engineers.

There is a plan in place, and it enjoys bipartisan support; But we need follow-through - especially the sorely-needed emphasis on education.

Why Our Black Families Are Failing

I've never blogged about race, mainly because I never wanted to incur the overhead in terms of pundit credibility.

As an Irish-Itailian-Belgian-American I know anything less than a USDA Grade-A orthodox sensitive position will be met with scrutiny.

dragged
Why Our Black Families Are Failing

Terror Incognita

"It's not so simple." - this is the rallying cry of goopy gray liberals against conservatives with all of their black-and-white moralism. Whether it be the propagation of democracy in the Middle East or pat answers to social pathology such as (cue rimshot) abstinence - the response is slightly disdainful: "It's not so simple."

For the record I agree with this, to some extent. The answers that conservatives seek are often far too cut-and-dried. There's nothing wrong with a hankering for Cleaver-era simplicity, except when it comes at the cost of denial - when everyone ignores the fact that June needs pills and vodka to get moving every morning.

But liberals have a troublesome knack for avoiding information that disrupts their neat ideologies too. Consider the prevailing wisdom that all recent terror attacks are the result of the war in Iraq - as if the victims deserved it, however indirectly. How do you explain that to Algeria, a non-participating country who recently had two diplomats kidnapped? How do you explain it to the families of Sharm El-Sheik?

Potlatcher Candyman

Gluttony, avarice, vanity, sadism - whether construed as behavioral deviations from society or transgressions against a divine order, most people agree these are "sins" - with or without the quotes. And in Roald Dahl's famous story about a candyman they are brought to life in the form of four beastly brats who fail win the Willy Wonka fortune due to these innate flaws.

I don't see any reason to choose between the Depp and the Wilder movie interpretations. I enjoy them both. But the comparison between the two has unleashed a fountain of pop criticism about whether each Wonka appears sadistic, indifferent, or merely a little manipulative as he dispatches the naughty children one by one, until only the dewy-eyed (and possibly pre-selected) heir apparent remains.

I think Dahl would be amused. I think for him it was a foregone conclusion that adults can be rotten - and most of them are.

We want to believe, of course, that the natural state of childhood is sweetness and compassion - and it's the result of beastly parenting that creates these little monsters. But the truth is always between nature and nurture - and whether it's the result of a secular desire to "be good" by being compliant - or the result of a more spiritual longing for grace - we like to think hearts can change. It's really never too late for children or adults.

Return to Dodge

The pastel and stucco heatscapes of Florida - swarming with lizards, old people, and gawky-legged birds - it was a peculiar place to stage a honeymoon. But it was quite a good time, and we couldn't have asked for a more perfect memory, or a better start.

I've slammed my readership with the more personal items in the past couple of months; understandably, mind you, I did get married. But I've always intended for the personal posts to be relevant or funny. The fracas surrounding the wedding was certainly all that. But I'm going to be getting back to the news of the day and the Spacetropic coffee blend of topics forthwith.

On the political front, the London situation is another good template for attitudes and perceptions towards terrorism and risk management. And the Roberts nomination promises to be another D.C. potboiler - and a baiting tactic to draw the bitterest Schumer-esque Lefties out of their foxholes.

Culturally, and with regards to Cincinnati - we've got to do something to improve this place. I have less and less patience for complacency. I support all efforts to disrupt the status quo.

Wedding Day and Honeymoon

Note: This post has been dated to float at the "top" of this weblog while I am on hiatus following my wedding. Regular posting should resume July 21st. In the event I have a moment to tap something out in the intervening days it will appear below this post (scroll down).

On July 9th 2005 at Nativity of Our Lord Parish in Pleasant Ridge, before a small group of family and close friends, Rachel and I got married. In spite of the many distractions and practical concerns leading up to the day - we were both exclusively involved with the sacred nature of this ceremony when we spoke our vows. This is the real proverbial McCoy, and we're playing for keeps.

Then we had a party in the backroom of the Bistro at Joseph Beth Booksellers - which should be familiar to the townies - and had one helluva time. (It's a great place to host an event.) Many family members, including our respective parents, had only met for the first time on Friday. So it could have gone a number of different ways. But it really turned out perfectly. We danced to one song - 'Do You Realize??' by the Flaming Lips.

Seize the day.

The two little girls had a ball. My family is now officially doubled. And we’re both beside ourselves with appreciation for the love and support from our families. I won't offer longwinded, maudlin reflection here on the weblog - and I actually look forward to returning to the issues of the day. But it's enough to say that I am one incredibly lucky guy, and we're both very happy indeed to be strong and loyal partners at last.

UPDATE: Check out some pictures.

Londoners and Erik

During the Blitz, the German V1 missiles announced themselves to the British citizenry with a loud, angry humming. These buzzbombs (and a smattering of V2s) took about 40,000 lives in England during the long hot summer of 1940 - before Hitler turned his attention to the Russian front. The Brits stuck it out with black windows, victory gardens, prayers for the dead, and nerves of steel.

A glint of that same resolve could be seen today, as the interviews took place with survivors, and when a shaken but determined Tony Blair made his remarks. In the age of terror we don't have a few seconds of buzzing to prepare our souls. Instead we have long months and years of peace - shattered by a flash, smoke, and body parts.

Good blog coverage here and here. And massive, indispensable aggregation at Instapundit.

Also yesterday, while driving around attending to the details of my impending marriage, I heard a few seconds of Hugh Hewitt's radio show. I noticed he was reading quotes - and the names sounded like some of my high school classmates.

Then I realized he was reading the Washington Post obituary of Lt. Cmdr. Erik S. Kristensen, my fellow graduate of Gonzaga, who later attended Annapolis and became a Navy SEAL. His helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan during a rescue operation. I'll leave it to you to read the story of his life and determine if he was anything less than a genuine hero who died at the service of his country.

The Albuquerque Alternative

Ours is a small wedding, but nonetheless, all manner of hell has been unleashed in this final week of preparation. Don't expect too many posts on this weblog - I can barely find time to skim the news each day, much less come up with any astute commentary.

My intended and I are constantly surrounded by attendants - buffing, waxing, applying various forms of skin treatments using rare tropical fruit and space-based laser systems. Our administrative staff flutters back and forth, grilling us with questions about the guest list and the langoustine soufflé - and my security detail has proven themselves particularly inept, accidentally firing tear gas at a group of curiosity-seekers who gathered too close to the estate.

I was going to write this post from beneath a heap of beer cans in a motel near the airport highway in Albuquerque, after a 48-hour time period during which I freaked all of the way out, ate a handful of trucker speed, and took a Greyhound though the American night, scaring everyone off my bulging, menacing eyes.

There are still a few more days to go. This option may still be pursued. Anything could happen. More updates as time permits.

CNN.com - Too fat to fight? - Jul 4, 2005

From a CNN article about increasingly obese military recruits:
CNN.com - Too fat to fight? - Jul 4, 2005: "'This is quickly becoming a national security issue for us. The pool of recruits is becoming smaller,' said Col. Gaston Bathalon, an Army nutrition expert."

Liberty Takes A Holiday

The more I contemplate the Kelo decision, the more I think this was the quiet moment when our foundational idea of liberty began to erode. If the Civil Rights Act was the moment when the promise of our Republic was finally and completely realized - that makes 41 years. A short run, don't you think?

If you don't think Kelo is important, think of it this way: As you travel over the holiday weekend, take a look at the land - the beautiful places on the coast or in the country. Pretend you have a big pile of real estate money. Could you make more in corporate tax revenue from that property though a hotel or shopping mall than whatever the unfortunate bastard who owns the place pays in property taxes? If so, then you've got the right, according to this ruling, to take it away from them.

At least retiring justice Sandra Day O'Connor can be put to pasture with a clear of conscience for not supporting this travesty. Somewhere amid the bloodthirsty fracas that will erupt over the next Supreme Court nominee I hope a U.S. senator has the good sense to ask his or her opinion about property rights.

Have a safe weekend, folks. Don't blast off any fingers lighting fireworks and remember to back away from the potato salad when things get out of hand.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Yesterday we visited the marriage license bureau. In the waiting area we saw one nervous young couple with a basinette, several rural-looking folks in a group, and an older couple. "I've got the death certificate right here!" the woman announced, a little too proudly, when asked how her first marriage ended.

The lady at the counter was friendly for a government worker. I wanted to ask her questions: Do you get couples in here smelling like booze, and making out while they're filling in the application? Have you ever watched a relationship dissolve in front of your eyes before you finish the paperwork? And finally - hey, do you guys keep a file back there for bigamists?

Some people are laughably ill-equipped for marriage - you can see it from miles away. But don't bother telling them because the human heart doesn't like to listen. Others, against the odds, are surprised by each other and (just as importantly) themselves as they contribute to the balance - arranged, rearranged, and reinvented by love and patience over the years.

We brought the camera. The government worker snapped our picture.