Um, HELLO…Cue the Outrage

(Atty. Gen. Eric H. Holder Jr. received a formal complaint from the Associated Press over the monitoring of journalists’ communications. (Molly Riley / Associated Press / April 18, 2013)

New York Times correspondent Declan Walsh was unceremoniously booted from Pakistan on the eve of their historic elections.  The publisher of the Times sent the Pakistani government a terse letter of objection stating, among other things, that silencing a free press does little to further the government’s efforts towards democracy and transparency.

You know…just like here in the United States.

Our government would never do something like this.  They would never encroach upon the sanctity of the fifth estate.

A free and independent press is vital to our form of government.

Unless of course it’s America, version 9/11.o  Then folks, all bets are off…

Guantanamo, suspension of due process, torture, drone assassinations. What’s a little illegal spying on the press gonna hurt?

I’m a liberal and a lifelong Democrat. This was my President.  This was the guy that brought me to tears at his first inauguration.  The man who inspired such hope in me…

I’m done…this is also the President that allows this illegal nonsense to continue.  It is NOT okay to take a dump on our rights. It is NOT okay to allow the IRS to become politicized, and holy hell…IT IS NOT OKAY TO SPY ON THE PRESS!!!

Ameristan, here we come…

So This Happened…

(Photo courtesy Randal Phenning via Thousand Oaks Acorn)

Yep, that’s my hometown.

I’m okay…no lives lost…no homes lost.

Media, as usual, butchered the coverage, providing a liberal dose of misinformation and ill-informed speculation.

Too bad, because a lot of people were counting on some accurate information today and I got to see up close and personal the effects of “infotainment”.   It’s a damn shame.  At one time, we could count on our news media to provide accurate information at times of crisis, both nationally and locally…not so much anymore.

And as usual, Twitter and social media proved to be my most accurate source of reliable information.

Sigh…

Bots Not to Like?

I’ve been on a bit of a self-imposed break from blogging while I attend to other matters…life, more specifically. Work, school, the search for new work, kids, you know…the fabric of our lives.

But while I’ve been gone, at any given time of the day I look at the screen of my IPhone (with my nifty WP app installed) and find that, gee yet another adoring admirer has made the wise choice to follow my blog. Isn’t it astounding that at least 5-10 folks a day have decided that my blog is something they can’t live without…even while I’m not posting. In fact, specifically while I’m not posting.

While my ego is fighting oh so hard to believe that somewhere, one of my posts was published elsewhere and it is drawing this unprecedented attention to my blog, the cynic in me is prevailing.

I read briefly somewhere recently where a number of WP accounts were hacked and bots were raping and pillaging WordPress land. I’ll be the first to admit, I’m pretty uneducated when it comes to all things hacking, spamming, phishing and botting, but how else can I explain the proliferation of adulation from folks who’s primary language consists of characters…or a whole lot of folks from overseas who seem to find my blog in the middle of the night.

Part of me is selfishly digging the sudden surge in followers, as if by displaying a larger following will somehow lend credibility to the drivel I produce at this keyboard, but the other, shall we say, more sober side of me is greatly disappointed that these folks (bots) are not following me for my actual content.

Oh well, I guess in this day and age of Fox News and CNN and their brand of “Breaking News”, I should embrace the faux followers as actual substance…but…just like Fox and CNN it ultimately leaves an acrid taste in my mouth.

Pressorism in Boston

I typically illustrate my posts with an image representative of the subject matter. There will be no graphic photos from the scene of today’s tragedy. Simply a black box.

The vermin, or the entity responsible for today’s murders wants you to see the graphic images.  They want you to remain glued to your television or computer, recoiling in horror at their “political” actions. And sadly, our so-called “journalists” are only too willing to accommodate these dark desires.

First things first. My heart and prayers go out to those physically and emotionally affected by today’s terrorist activity. It is simply unconscionable to me that a human being or a group of human beings could inflict this type of violence on innocent people.

Secondly, and prescient to my post, we really have a limited view of what exactly happened today. We know there were at least two explosions at the end of the Boston Marathon. As of now we know three humans lost their lives, children included, and hundreds injured. Not to mention the emotional toll on those at the scene, both victims and first responders.

Terrorism defined: “the systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion”.

It is critically important to put this incident in perspective, and from the limited information we have, it is virtually impossible to do so. What we can say with confidence is that the leading media outlets, with some notable exceptions (WBUR to name only one), embarked on a reflexive, almost Pavlovian orgy of misinformation in the minutes and hours following the explosions.

“Saudi man arrested”. “Suspect being guarded by SWAT team at hospital”. “Multiple unexploded devices found”. “Third explosion at JFK Library”.  And so on…

“Pressorism”. I define it as the systematic infliction of terror by unethical journalistic organizations.

A year or so from now we will be able to look back on this event with something close to sober reflection. It will be in context with the events of the day and their correlation to events in our world. Today, it was a frenzy of pressorism…media outlets carelessly feeding into the fear.

The fear these sociopaths were counting on.

 

In Those Last Minutes of Life…

 

(My son and his girlfriend before their prom last night. I didn’t include a picture of my daughter because she’s across the country at college and I don’t have any recent pictures)

In my former career, I’ve had the honor, sometimes sad, often poignant, of witnessing the last moments of countless human being in their last conscious moments on Earth.  Some struggled, others screamed in pain, but several were at peace.

I’ve often wondered what my last few moments will be like.  What will I think of?  Will my life flash before my eyes? Will I be glad that I made of lot of money and had cool houses and cars? Or will I think of my kids?

I already know the answer…not because I’ve experienced it (although I have had two near-death experiences in dreams so profound, that I’m certain they were celestially-inspired and will be exactly the “calm” I’ll feel) but because at my core, there is one primary need: that my kids are safe and healthy.

There have been three deaths within the last three weeks of men and women the same age as my kids.  One died after falling off a cliff at a party spot at UCSB; I don’t know whether drugs/alcohol was a factor. Another occurred early last week when a 19 y/o male, high on ecstascy, crashed his car head on into another car, killing his passenger, a recent alumni of my kids school. And finally, a day later, a young man my son’s age died as the result of an overdose.  Three dead, two as the direct result of drugs, third to be determined.

I’ve shared somewhat here about my recovery from alcoholism, but more importantly I’ve shared my experience with my kids…in detail.  I’ve included them in my journey, we have frank and open discussions about drugs and alcohol.

I have no idea what the future holds for either of my kids, but I know it is bright…one in college, one college-bound and stressing like crazy about getting into a good university, which I believe he will.

In those last few moments of my life, as the otherworldly peace that I experienced in my dreams envelops me, I believe I will enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that I had a profound and positive impact on the lives of my kids.  I certainly couldn’t provide them with the things I wanted to financially, but as of this moment..right now…I believe they are on the path to leading lives I could only have dreamed of.  And I am proud of the part I played in that…proud beyond measure.

I mention this not to toot my own horn, or break my arm patting myself on the back. I mention it because there are plenty of times where I feel sorry for myself that I’ve lost some things financially and am not currently able to provide for them financially like I used to…but during my “used to” times…I didn’t even know my kids, and can barely recall those times, as my brain was fogged and my soul was wrapped up in the disease of “me-ism”.

So yeah…well done me…not for making my kids into awesome individuals, but for having the instincts to get the hell out of the way, and provide them with a safe emotional path the last few years to become the superstars the are becoming.

Nice job…et al.

It’s Hockey…eh?

As I write this, I’m watching the Los Angeles Kings take on the Dallas Stars on television.

At age 52, I still consider myself a Southern California kid.  In the mid 70′s when I was in high school…I played hockey–on ice. That was unheard of in those days and it was strictly an underground enterprise for the most part.  This was pre-Gretzky mind you.  I loved to play, and to this day treasure every one of those moments.  For a relatively shy kid who wasn’t part of the “in-crowd”, ice hockey provided me with a HUGE dose of self-confidence.  In fact, this shy kid ended up leading the league (Orange County to Santa Barbara) in penalty minutes for fighting.

My dad had a client who’s company had season seats to Kings games, and this guy used to offer me seats on a regular basis.  I saw probably 40-50 home games at the Fabulous Forum back in the day…the days of Rogie Vachon, Marcel Dionne, Dave Hutchinson, and a rookie named Dave Taylor.  My dad and I frequently went to games together…another cherished memory.

Sports affects all of us differently. Some people have no connection, while for others it becomes a way of life. For me, sports and ice hockey specifically, became an important fabric of my life.

Last year, as the Kings began their run for the Stanley Cup, something they had not done in over 40 years, I decided to surprise my son and get us tickets to a Western Conference Playoff game against Phoenix, costing me a small fortune.  The game ended up being the only home game the Kings lost but the game itself was an unqualified success…my son and I had a blast.  I hadn’t been to a Kings game in a long time and as they came out onto the ice to the roar of the sell-out crowd, I desperately fought the urge to break down into a puddle of sobbing goo.  It was hard enough to hide the tears streaming down my face.  He asked me if we could go to another game this year for his birthday…I couldn’t get the tickets fast enough.

The Kings won the Cup that year…I watched on TV and let it all go at that moment.  A man in his 50′s literally…and I mean literally sobbing uncontrollably as I watched my beloved Kings hoist the cup.

It happened again last night.  If found this video and turned into a sobbing mess once again.

It’s funny what things unleash the faucet, but the LA Kings…my connection to hockey and my childhood, inevitably inspire the waterworks.  Bubba Watson lost it during a press conference leading up to the Masters today…relax Bubba…I get it.

When the Law and Homophobia Marry…

So here’s the deal.  Back in the days of the caveman, I’m going to take a wild guess that there were not a whole lot of social values and mores in place that prevented same sex physical union.  Those poor neanderthals (excuse the pun) didn’t have the advantage of Fox News or the Westboro Baptist Church to tell them that fooling around with a person of the same gender was “perverted”.

Enter today’s neanderthals…well spoken men and women, some carrying legal briefs in their thick leather cases, telling us poor folks that this SCOTUS argument today really isn’t about discrimination, it’s about the rights of individual states to decide if they want to allow same-sex marriages.  They argue that if the judicial branch rules for same-sex marriage, it would be a blanket imposition of a social agenda on all 50 states…rather than letting the individual states decide for themselves.  A very attractive argument in my opinion. Except it’s flawed.

Flawed in this sense:  marriage, despite all their attempts to moralize it, is at its core, a legal contract.   Currently, we do not allow members of the same sex to enter into this legal contract.  By any definition, this is discrimination based on sexual preference.  End of story.

Spare me the emotional religious arguments that marriage is a sacrosanct union between a man and a woman.  It is not.  If it was, you would not need to obtain a government “license” to enter into it.  It is, again, simply a legal contract.  To continue to deny a segment of our population access to this contract and all the benefits and responsibilities it engenders, is no different than telling them they need to sit at the back of the bus…or to drink from another drinking fountain.

Enough.

I Stopped Watching Local News…and Lived!

Not too long ago, my son asked me on what channel I watched local news.  I told him that it had been quite awhile since I had tuned in to the local version of infotainment.  In fact, I couldn’t recall when I had stopped watching it, since it had been so long since I was graced with Susie and Dan exchanging witty repartee while dissecting the risks and benefits of liposuction.

Here in Los Angeles, there actually used to be some quality journalists: John Schubeck, Bill Stout, Warren Olney to name a few.  But as a lad I recall when we were introduced to “Eyewitness News”; and the era of “Happy Talk” journalism hit the ground running.

On the rare occasion today (usually a public T.V. while in an airport or at some other event) that I am exposed to this nonsense, I am sadly reminded of the decline of television news, particularly at the local level.  I specifically exclude  the local PBS affiliates and NPR as it goes without saying that they are the last bastions of “real” daily television journalism.

I guess what causes me the most alarm is the number of “adults” 18-65 that watch this drivel and actually believe they are watching news and being informed.  That Ronald Reagan and George Bush won two presidential terms sustains my belief that we are a nation of ill-informed (at best) citizens unwilling to take the time to understand what “real” journalism is.

It is:  unbiased, sourced, verifiable and editorially overseen by professionals with degrees in journalism from real journalism schools.  It is not: TMZ, ANY local news outlet, Fox, MSNBC and sadly now: CNN.

Yes, I’m generalizing and yes I’m oversimplifying.  But what I am not doing is being lazy and willing to submit my mind to the commercial pabulum force-fed us these days.  It’s easy to be cynical about this state of affairs (I am guilty of this more often than not) but submit that in this day of the internet, with a virtual encyclopedia on your damn phones, that none of us have any excuse to be NOT informed or ILL informed.

There are some great apps for your phone and tablet and laptop kids…Reuters, BBC, PBS, NPR, Washington Post, New York Times, even Al Jazeera and Haaretz offer solid journalism, albeit the last two must be viewed through the lens of their masters.

At the end of the day, we are all responsible for seeking and consuming responsible sources for the information we use in our daily lives to make decisions about what we want our world to look like.  If yours is the local news outlet, please consider educating yourself.  You may just learn that everything isn’t “Breaking News”…

 

Daylight Savings and the Sands of Time…

Daylight Savings Time is unequivocally my favorite time of the year.  As a lad, it represented the ability to stay out and play later.  As an adult, its longer days brings back those sweet memories along with the ability to…well…stay out later and play=riding my bike while there’s still some daylight out.

But what DST also brings are seasons…cycles of the sands of time that remind me that I only have a finite number of these special times left. The aging thing has spawned a lot of introspection in my life lately.  It started recently when a young twenty-something co-worker was explaining to another co-worker that “older workers let these little things get under their skin and it makes them crazy”.  She wasn’t referring to me, but might as well have been.

Here’s the deal.  I like it when people show up and on time, return from their breaks on time, and simply do the MINIMUM that they are required to do.  If they do those things, I’m cool.  But where I work, those things are not strictly enforced.  Hence, I get to do a slow burn every time one of those younger workers ignores what I consider to be a pretty basic covenant of employment.

It got me thinking about the work ethic of this new generation and the differences with mine.  Am I wrong to let these transgressions get under my skin and react?  Without a doubt…I own my response to any perceived violations of policy.  But am I wrong to expect these youngsters to make more of an effort?  Or at least care?  I’m not sure.  I know what I expect of myself and it’s up to me to do that.  I’ve put a lot of effort this year into not reacting to the actions of others…keeping my side of the street clean, if you will.  In fact, I wrote that in my performance review’s self-evaluation.

What I’m getting at is maybe this is a normal, albeit tragically sad, consequence of evolution.  Maybe this is the best this generation can do and at their age, I was held to a different standard by my elders.  Either way…it sucks as it’s an indication of the changing seasons.

And then tonight…I was again reminded of the fragility of life.  One of my professors, whom I hold in high regard and respect, had what was likely a mini-stroke during class.  I rendered assistance because of my background until paramedics arrived but drove home experiencing a profound sadness.  He’ll probably be okay, but his fragility and utter helplessness reminded me that I’m not far behind, age-wise.  I am so glad I am no longer a Firefighter/Paramedic as I have noticed a greater difficulty separating myself from these incidents emotionally prior to leaving the department.  What used to roll off my back, suddenly strikes at my core.

At the end of the day, I know that intellectually this is all part of the cycle of life.  And I wouldn’t really trade where I’m at now (okay, I’m lying, I want another shot at my 20′s) but the sands of time can still sting from time to time.

My prayers are with you Mr. S…

Don’t Piss Off the Professor…

I’m 52 and going back to college.  It’s been awhile since I’ve been at this institute of higher learning.

34 years to be exact.  34 years ago, the perception I had of professors is apparently different from the one I have now.  I learned the hard way last night that professors are not perfect–don’t know everything–and get kinda pissy when you know more than they do.

I should have expected that 34 years of life experience and real-world education brings more to the classroom than the other undergrads I share elementary school desks with.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a know-it-all in any sense of the word, but one of the reasons I’m passionate about school is the opportunity to engage in an exchange of ideas and beliefs.

So last night, at the start of class, the Professor begins with a discussion of current events.  She led with the poor guy in Florida who was swallowed by the sink hole.  Sorry, Prof, but I can get this on American’s favorite infotainment news network–CNN, so I promptly changed the subject to the Attorney General’s unwillingness to rule out targeted Drone strikes on US citizens on US soil (he subsequently issued a statement recanting this).  She immediately became indignant and stated that she needed to know the context.  I briefly summarized the current debate over the Administration’s targeted killing program, and again, she hedged and seemed irritated and essentially dismissed my “current event”.

To say my ego was bruised is an understatement.  It took about an hour before I finally realized she didn’t have a clue what I was talking about and it apparently embarrassed her (speculation on my part, I admit).  Nonetheless it taught me a lesson.  I need to remember that Professors are human too and are subject to the same life stressors we all have and she may not have the same keen interest/passion in current events that I do.  Granted it is a US History class (1860-present) but hey, I’ll cut her some slack.  She’s a competent instructor with a passion for teaching and an engaging style.

I just need to remember to that not everybody see the world through my lenses…and moderate my expectations in junior college while maintaining my enthusiasm for learning.