How big does the message that falls on your head from up above have to be before you take heed? How much precedent of cause and effect does it take before you realize that what you're contemplating might be a really bad idea?
MSN.com's home page reported that tour operator Kenneth Bae, 44, from Washington, has been arrested in North Korea on charges of espionage. At the time of his arrest he had just escorted five European tourists into North Korea from China. He had conducted such tours before and in fact possessed a visa issued by the North Korean government.
Former New Mexico governor Bill Richardson has already tried to get the North Koreans to release Bae, to no avail. Before other bleeding heart Democrats start jostling for a seat on the next flight to Pyongyang, I thought I would see what I could do to secure Bae's freedom. To that end I set up a conference call with Bae and dictator Kim Jong, which I recorded.
"Good evening, Ken."
"Good evening, Dave."
"Good evening, your illustriousness."
"Good MORNING, imperialist lackey. How typically arrogant of you American running dogs to assume that just because it is evening there it must be evening everywhere."
"Sorry. Ken, I have to ask, you knew the history of Americans traveling to North Korea, that they haven't fared well. I mean, look at the two pseudo-journalists from that leftist manifesto Al Gore publishes. They were arrested and sentenced to 12 years of hard labor. Didn't that raise any red flags for you?"
"Not really. See, they had snuck across the border. I entered the country on a visa. Besides, they didn't do any hard labor, did they? Bill Clinton came over and got them. I figured if anything like that happened to me, someone would bail me out."
"What was it you did to get yourself arrested?"
"I just took some pictures of some homeless kids..."
"Yankee devil! We have no homeless kids in glorious Democratic North! You take pictures, maybe photo shop them, add lies for captions! You not arrested for taking pictures; you arrested for trying to subvert our socialist utopia by making revered leader look bad."
"If I may ask, your greatness, what will it take for you to release Ken?"
"Release?! We NEVER release! He eat fish heads and rice for rest of life!"
"How 'bout if we send Al Gore, or Bill Clinton, or someone like that to get him?"
"No! We don't want any more capitalist exploiters of the masses coming here to suck up, then go home and tell us we can't build nuclear weapons! Stay home!"
"Suppose Dennis Rodman visits again. You seemed to hit it off with him."
"Dennis come, get T-shirt, go home! You send Snooki or Selena Gomez! Better yet, you send Lucy Liu! She run fingers through Asian Afro, then maybe we talk!"
"No, you're way too much man for just one woman. Think you can handle two?"
"Bring 'em on! I teach 'em Jongnam-style!"
Careful what you wish for, Kimmy. We'll send Melissa McCarthy and Gabourey Sidibe. They'll teach you the "pancake."
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Are You Ready For Your Close-up?
What if some government agents knocked on your door, gave you a device about the size of an MP3 player attached to a lanyard, and told you you'd have to put it on when you leave your home, wear it everywhere you go, and not take it off until you return? What if the purpose of the device was to track your every movement, record every location you visited? What level of outrage would you experience? Enough to tell the agent what he could do with his device?
Well, guess what. If you have a cell phone, you've pretty much done the government's work for it. See, every time you make a call while you're out and about, it's a simple matter for the feds to pinpoint your location. Your cell phone is, in effect, a GPS.
Not to worry. Sam isn't going to monitor millions of cell phones to trace the movements of millions of citizens. Except, of course, those of folks who are up to no good. Fall under suspicion, and you won't even be able to sneak into a Mickey D's for a double-cheese fatburger without being a blip on some feebie's radar.
Think you can beat the system by simply leaving your cell phone at home? Think again, paranoia-breath. Bet those two wastes of human souls that set off the bombs at the Boston Marathon thought they were more invisible than Sebastian Caine. Yet there they were, spotted in a photo shot by someone's cell phone, walking down the street, one with a Cheshire cat grin on his face, right after the blast.
Cameras, video and still, are everywhere. Anyone with a cell phone that didn't come out of a Cracker Jack box has video capability. Practically every business has them, both inside its facility and outside covering the parking lot. Banks have them aimed at ATMs Cops have them on the dashes of their patrol cars. They are literally so pervasive, you cannot pick your nose without expectation that someone, somewhere, is guffawing over your slovenliness.
Besides criminals, of course, you know who should be worried about the proliferation of cameras and their attendant photo ops? Walmartians, that's who. They should be, but clearly they aren't, otherwise they wouldn't leave their doublewides dressed and looking like they do. Instead, their decided lack of fashion sense and decorum is recorded and plastered all over the Internet. They're actually proud of their three inches of exposed butt crack, six inches of cleavage between two boobs the size of melons that are spilling out of their halters, guts that look like the men to whom they belong are in their third trimesters, and clothing that can best be described as trailer park couture.
You've seen those pics. You wish you hadn't, but you can't tear your eyes off them. It's worth whatever privacy I'm giving up on my daily rounds just to be able to indulge that guilty pleasure.
The ACLU, as you might suspect, is not happy over the widespread use of surveillance equipment, which is another selling point for me.
The ACLU argues that video surveillance has not been proven effective, that suicide bombers, for example, are not deterred by the prospect of being filmed while blowing themselves up. Of course not. But the Boston Marathon morons were not suicidal. Had it not been for having their picture taken, they'd still be on the loose, perhaps plotting the next display of their disgruntledness at having to live in America.
The ACLU also believes that video surveillance is subject to criminal, institutional and personal abuses, that the temptation to employ video surveillance in pursuit of individual agendas is simply too great a trade-off for whatever deterrence and criminal identification benefits it does manage to provide. Yeah, yeah. Every human activity is subject to abuse. What, are we going to outlaw everything?
I never understood folks who live as remotely from others as possible because they don't want anyone snooping in their business. It's exactly in small, sparsely populated areas where everyone knows everyone else's business. You want privacy? Live in a city, the bigger the better. No one there cares about your business. Or you, for that matter.
Me? Anyone comes up to me and says, "Smile! You're on candid camera," I give him a big grin, shake his hand and say, "Thank you! And swing by Walmart while you're on your way, okay, Alan?"
Well, guess what. If you have a cell phone, you've pretty much done the government's work for it. See, every time you make a call while you're out and about, it's a simple matter for the feds to pinpoint your location. Your cell phone is, in effect, a GPS.
Not to worry. Sam isn't going to monitor millions of cell phones to trace the movements of millions of citizens. Except, of course, those of folks who are up to no good. Fall under suspicion, and you won't even be able to sneak into a Mickey D's for a double-cheese fatburger without being a blip on some feebie's radar.
Think you can beat the system by simply leaving your cell phone at home? Think again, paranoia-breath. Bet those two wastes of human souls that set off the bombs at the Boston Marathon thought they were more invisible than Sebastian Caine. Yet there they were, spotted in a photo shot by someone's cell phone, walking down the street, one with a Cheshire cat grin on his face, right after the blast.
Cameras, video and still, are everywhere. Anyone with a cell phone that didn't come out of a Cracker Jack box has video capability. Practically every business has them, both inside its facility and outside covering the parking lot. Banks have them aimed at ATMs Cops have them on the dashes of their patrol cars. They are literally so pervasive, you cannot pick your nose without expectation that someone, somewhere, is guffawing over your slovenliness.
Besides criminals, of course, you know who should be worried about the proliferation of cameras and their attendant photo ops? Walmartians, that's who. They should be, but clearly they aren't, otherwise they wouldn't leave their doublewides dressed and looking like they do. Instead, their decided lack of fashion sense and decorum is recorded and plastered all over the Internet. They're actually proud of their three inches of exposed butt crack, six inches of cleavage between two boobs the size of melons that are spilling out of their halters, guts that look like the men to whom they belong are in their third trimesters, and clothing that can best be described as trailer park couture.
You've seen those pics. You wish you hadn't, but you can't tear your eyes off them. It's worth whatever privacy I'm giving up on my daily rounds just to be able to indulge that guilty pleasure.
The ACLU, as you might suspect, is not happy over the widespread use of surveillance equipment, which is another selling point for me.
The ACLU argues that video surveillance has not been proven effective, that suicide bombers, for example, are not deterred by the prospect of being filmed while blowing themselves up. Of course not. But the Boston Marathon morons were not suicidal. Had it not been for having their picture taken, they'd still be on the loose, perhaps plotting the next display of their disgruntledness at having to live in America.
The ACLU also believes that video surveillance is subject to criminal, institutional and personal abuses, that the temptation to employ video surveillance in pursuit of individual agendas is simply too great a trade-off for whatever deterrence and criminal identification benefits it does manage to provide. Yeah, yeah. Every human activity is subject to abuse. What, are we going to outlaw everything?
I never understood folks who live as remotely from others as possible because they don't want anyone snooping in their business. It's exactly in small, sparsely populated areas where everyone knows everyone else's business. You want privacy? Live in a city, the bigger the better. No one there cares about your business. Or you, for that matter.
Me? Anyone comes up to me and says, "Smile! You're on candid camera," I give him a big grin, shake his hand and say, "Thank you! And swing by Walmart while you're on your way, okay, Alan?"
Saturday, April 13, 2013
In Memoriam: Maggie
Wonder not why the good die young. Wonder why the good die at all.
On the occasion of her recent death, Margaret Thatcher's relationship with her philosophical and political soul mate, Ronald Reagan, was revisited. Their relationship, after all, was as important to each of their countries at peace as that between Franklin Roosevelt and Winston Churchill at war.
While it was always hugs and kisses in front of the cameras, the relationship was often vigorously contentious. For example, Maggie was enraged when Ron invaded Grenada, which upset the president because he had stuck his neck out to support her invasion of the Falklands. Ron intended his strategic defense initiative to compensate for an eventual elimination of nukes; Maggie wanted to maintain nukes and opposed SDI for that reason.
In spite of their differences, "[i]t all worked," said Maggie of the relationship, "because he was more afraid of me than I was of him."
Herewith more Maggie-isms:
"There is a union of mind and purpose between our peoples which is remarkable and which makes our relationship truly a remarkable one. It is special. It just is, and that's that."--Spoken at a Washington banquet marking 200 years of diplomatic relations between Great Britain and the United States.
"I count it a double joy that I am once again in the United States...[t]he message I have brought across the Atlantic is that we, in Britain, stand with you. America's successes will be our successes. Your problems will be our problems, and when you look for friends we will be there."--On the occasion of a state visit.
"Pierre, you're being obnoxious. Stop acting like a naughty schoolboy!"--Scolding Canada's Prime Minister Trudeau for railing against Ron at a summit meeting.
"Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren't."
"I always cheer up immensely if an attack is particularly wounding because I think, well, if they attack one personally, it means they have not a single political argument left."
"I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my way in the end."
"To cure the British disease with socialism was like trying to cure leukaemia [sic] with leeches."
"The wisdom of hindsight, so useful to historians and indeed to authors of memoirs, is sadly denied to practicing politicians."
"If my critics saw me walking over the Thames they would say it was because I couldn't swim."
"Standing in the middle of the road is very dangerous; you get knocked down by the traffic from both sides."
"To me, consensus seems to be the process of abandoning all beliefs, principles, values and policies. So it is something in which no one believes and to which no one objects."
"If you want something said, ask a man. If you want something done, ask a woman."
RIP, Madam Prime Minister. You made Britain, and indeed the world, a better place, if only for too short a while.
On the occasion of her recent death, Margaret Thatcher's relationship with her philosophical and political soul mate, Ronald Reagan, was revisited. Their relationship, after all, was as important to each of their countries at peace as that between Franklin Roosevelt and Winston Churchill at war.
While it was always hugs and kisses in front of the cameras, the relationship was often vigorously contentious. For example, Maggie was enraged when Ron invaded Grenada, which upset the president because he had stuck his neck out to support her invasion of the Falklands. Ron intended his strategic defense initiative to compensate for an eventual elimination of nukes; Maggie wanted to maintain nukes and opposed SDI for that reason.
In spite of their differences, "[i]t all worked," said Maggie of the relationship, "because he was more afraid of me than I was of him."
Herewith more Maggie-isms:
"There is a union of mind and purpose between our peoples which is remarkable and which makes our relationship truly a remarkable one. It is special. It just is, and that's that."--Spoken at a Washington banquet marking 200 years of diplomatic relations between Great Britain and the United States.
"I count it a double joy that I am once again in the United States...[t]he message I have brought across the Atlantic is that we, in Britain, stand with you. America's successes will be our successes. Your problems will be our problems, and when you look for friends we will be there."--On the occasion of a state visit.
"Pierre, you're being obnoxious. Stop acting like a naughty schoolboy!"--Scolding Canada's Prime Minister Trudeau for railing against Ron at a summit meeting.
"Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren't."
"I always cheer up immensely if an attack is particularly wounding because I think, well, if they attack one personally, it means they have not a single political argument left."
"I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my way in the end."
"To cure the British disease with socialism was like trying to cure leukaemia [sic] with leeches."
"The wisdom of hindsight, so useful to historians and indeed to authors of memoirs, is sadly denied to practicing politicians."
"If my critics saw me walking over the Thames they would say it was because I couldn't swim."
"Standing in the middle of the road is very dangerous; you get knocked down by the traffic from both sides."
"To me, consensus seems to be the process of abandoning all beliefs, principles, values and policies. So it is something in which no one believes and to which no one objects."
"If you want something said, ask a man. If you want something done, ask a woman."
RIP, Madam Prime Minister. You made Britain, and indeed the world, a better place, if only for too short a while.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
It's Only Money
It never bodes well when clueless Cher exercises more restraint at the mall with daddy's credit card than the city, state and local governments do when on spending sprees with tax revenue.
A few years ago, Clearwater Beach decided it would be a super, neat-o, peachy-keen idea to install a roundabout at the intersection which distributes incoming traffic from Clearwater north to Mandalay and south to its business district. Roundabouts are distinctly European, which means they are foreign to us and require some cultural adjustment to begin with. But officials decided to go all artsy-fartsy and place a huge fountain right in its middle, at a cost of a million and change.
Gee, you might well ask, what's wrong with that? Good question, but not the right one. See, there's a constant breeze blowing from one direction or another, to one degree or another. So, not only did drivers find themselves trying to navigate through unfamiliar environs, they had to do so while drops of mist from the fountain gathered upon and cascaded down their windshields. Before they were crushed under the weight of all the ensuing complaints, those very same officials approved another million and change to have the fountain removed.
The right question is, of course, why no one raised a hand to suggest that perhaps a deluge of windborne water upon a heavily-trafficked and challenging gauntlet of lane changing and merging might result in more "accidents" than those experienced nine months after a major urban power outage.
Last week's blog, "Business Start-up Model", described how state and county governments joined together in an effort to fund the realization of new ideas through up-front grants of millions of dollars, with no oversight or follow-up to protect their investments. Much of this money has disappeared faster than a deadbeat dad faced with having to make back child support payments.
But the hands-down greatest waster of taxpayer bucks is the federal government.
After Hurricanes Katrina and Rita dramatically demonstrated the folly of building one's house in what is essentially a below-sea level bowl right between the one and three pins of hurricane alley, HUD thought that if folks are going to remain there it might be super, neat-o, peachy-keen idea to put their houses up on stilts. You know, so future storm surges will just lap at the front door instead of washing away the whole place. And so the feds coughed up $700 million to help 24,000 Louisiana families elevate their homes.
You could tell where this was going, even though the feds clearly could not. HUD's own inspector general said that, surprise, surprise, the $700 mil may have been misspent. The IG's report said some homeowners who got grants of up to $30,000 used the money for something else, and that others didn't provide sufficient documents to show the work was done. Well, duh!
Here's a tip from your ol' Uncle Dave. When someone hits you up for money to fund some necessary repair, pay for medical care, or get the water or electric turned back on, do not send a nickel. Instead, contact the billing agency and pay it directly. Sure, this approach post-hurricane would have cost the feds more money, but the work would have been done and maybe, just maybe, we will not have to rebuild that cesspool the next time the weather gods decide to flush it out.
But you know what the real irony, the real tragedy is? When the agency responsible for collecting your taxes itself fritters away the revenue.
Charged with the filing of fraudulent income tax returns, Rashia "First Lady" Wilson, 27, of Tampa, was described by the judge who heard her case as "a woman with a learning disability and a seventh-grade education." He wondered, as do I, how such a person, along with her sometime boyfriend, Maurice "Thirst" Larry, 27, could rip off the IRS to the tune of $2.24 million.
"Did you have any trouble preparing the income tax returns?" asked the judge.
"No, sir," she replied.
On one return, e-filed from a hotel using a stolen ID, she claimed a refund of $9,987. In two weeks, the refund was directed to a reloadable debit card.
The judge accepted her guilty pleas on charges of wire fraud and identity theft, but had some scathing remarks for the IRS.
"I want to know why the people in the IRS aren't paying more attention to what's going on," said the judge. "I'm focusing on their failure, not hers."
And so should we all, Judge. So should we all.
A few years ago, Clearwater Beach decided it would be a super, neat-o, peachy-keen idea to install a roundabout at the intersection which distributes incoming traffic from Clearwater north to Mandalay and south to its business district. Roundabouts are distinctly European, which means they are foreign to us and require some cultural adjustment to begin with. But officials decided to go all artsy-fartsy and place a huge fountain right in its middle, at a cost of a million and change.
Gee, you might well ask, what's wrong with that? Good question, but not the right one. See, there's a constant breeze blowing from one direction or another, to one degree or another. So, not only did drivers find themselves trying to navigate through unfamiliar environs, they had to do so while drops of mist from the fountain gathered upon and cascaded down their windshields. Before they were crushed under the weight of all the ensuing complaints, those very same officials approved another million and change to have the fountain removed.
The right question is, of course, why no one raised a hand to suggest that perhaps a deluge of windborne water upon a heavily-trafficked and challenging gauntlet of lane changing and merging might result in more "accidents" than those experienced nine months after a major urban power outage.
Last week's blog, "Business Start-up Model", described how state and county governments joined together in an effort to fund the realization of new ideas through up-front grants of millions of dollars, with no oversight or follow-up to protect their investments. Much of this money has disappeared faster than a deadbeat dad faced with having to make back child support payments.
But the hands-down greatest waster of taxpayer bucks is the federal government.
After Hurricanes Katrina and Rita dramatically demonstrated the folly of building one's house in what is essentially a below-sea level bowl right between the one and three pins of hurricane alley, HUD thought that if folks are going to remain there it might be super, neat-o, peachy-keen idea to put their houses up on stilts. You know, so future storm surges will just lap at the front door instead of washing away the whole place. And so the feds coughed up $700 million to help 24,000 Louisiana families elevate their homes.
You could tell where this was going, even though the feds clearly could not. HUD's own inspector general said that, surprise, surprise, the $700 mil may have been misspent. The IG's report said some homeowners who got grants of up to $30,000 used the money for something else, and that others didn't provide sufficient documents to show the work was done. Well, duh!
Here's a tip from your ol' Uncle Dave. When someone hits you up for money to fund some necessary repair, pay for medical care, or get the water or electric turned back on, do not send a nickel. Instead, contact the billing agency and pay it directly. Sure, this approach post-hurricane would have cost the feds more money, but the work would have been done and maybe, just maybe, we will not have to rebuild that cesspool the next time the weather gods decide to flush it out.
But you know what the real irony, the real tragedy is? When the agency responsible for collecting your taxes itself fritters away the revenue.
Charged with the filing of fraudulent income tax returns, Rashia "First Lady" Wilson, 27, of Tampa, was described by the judge who heard her case as "a woman with a learning disability and a seventh-grade education." He wondered, as do I, how such a person, along with her sometime boyfriend, Maurice "Thirst" Larry, 27, could rip off the IRS to the tune of $2.24 million.
"Did you have any trouble preparing the income tax returns?" asked the judge.
"No, sir," she replied.
On one return, e-filed from a hotel using a stolen ID, she claimed a refund of $9,987. In two weeks, the refund was directed to a reloadable debit card.
The judge accepted her guilty pleas on charges of wire fraud and identity theft, but had some scathing remarks for the IRS.
"I want to know why the people in the IRS aren't paying more attention to what's going on," said the judge. "I'm focusing on their failure, not hers."
And so should we all, Judge. So should we all.
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