A Chicken Is Not Pillage

Pepper

Do you find it's proper placement to be the left or the right?

The Rules

Being 4 months shy of having done this gig for 5 years, I guess it's time to post a few.  This is based very loosely on Craig's "Da Rules", basically because he's 'da man', and I think he's spot on in expectation and enforcement.

1)  My dime, my rules.  Unlike blogspot users and many others who use free services, I pay for my website, and I've done so from day one.  That means it's mine.  Look no further than this rule before leveling complaint about your role on my property.  I own this space.   I own copyright on everything here, including your comments.  If you don't want me to own it, don't write it.  If you simply *must* express yourself, then allow me to quote from MetaFilter, "GYOBFW".

2)  Pursuant to rule 1, I don't owe you a platform.  I ain't the government, I don't represent you, you don't pay me, and any claims about your free-speech here or elsewhere will be met with the appropriate amount of derision.  If I delete your comment, alter your comment or ban you by word or IP ... tough noogies.  The founding fathers certainly never intended for you to have "rights" over my property.  And indeed, you don't.  So don't whine about it.

3)  I am not a 'citizen journalist'.  Don't expect me to be one.  I don't get paid for this, and I have little use for your opinion of my 'credibility'.  I am a writer.  Good, bad, fair to middlin', writing is what I do.  It is not reporting.  If I you want to see  real citizen journalism, I have a few suggestions.  Don't expect it here.  You won't be disappointed and then you won't annoy me.

4)  'Foul' language is not only allowed here, but sometimes encouraged.  If you have a problem with that, you'd best not hang 'round these parts.  I did not have a highbrow upbringing, and I've spent some too much time around military folk.  Try not to think of it as invective; consider it ...  punctuation.

5)  Insult is allowed here, within limits.  Few things are more mewling and disgusting than those who think that insult cheapens an argument.  Really, it doesn't.  There are many forms of insult, both genteel and vulgar.  An argument stands based on reason and logic, not the words that add flavor (remember rules number 3 and 4).    Anyone who wants to call me an "asshole" is welcome to do that ... if you have an argument to make.   If not, remember: my dime, my rules.

6)  Do not insult my friends if they're not insulting you.  This should be simple.  If it isn't, I will take action.  Or not.  The choice is mine.  Remember: my dime, my rules.

7)  I've learned a few things in the past years.  I'm over some forms of amusement.  One of them is cheap pop psychology applied to me from those who know nothing of me or my life.  On this website, my job, my life, my existence beyond blogging is strictly out of bounds.  You don't know me.  Don't pretend you do (unless, of course, you do.  But then I'll need you to prove it.)

8)  Racism and sexism will not be tolerated.  Gay bashing will not be tolerated.  Any adult would know that these are 'no-nos'.  Don't do them.

9)  My website is not the pinnacle of well-read.  I kinda like it that way.  Adding comments to older posts is futile.  The only person who will read them is me.  Don't waste your time.  And if you do:  my dime, my rules.

10)  Unlike some, I don't print e-mails.  I think that's kinda icky.  But if you send me one, it's my property.   Piss me off unduly and I will print it with appropriate alteration and/or commentary.  Don't like that?  Too bad.   You've been warned.

11)  As I've indicated, my website is not the most popular on the block.  I like it that way.  So trolling me only proves you to be a moron.  Don't do that.  Trolling me only wastes your time.

12)  If you don't like any of these rules, tough shit.  This is an adult website for adults, and it is not a "play nice" zone.  But all things lead back to rule number 1:  my dime, my rules. 

Just Because It's Time

'Just In Time For Collapse'

There are a couple of the Montana Dextra brethren who are jumping on the bandwagon that we can save the planet by offering already wealthy corporations the ability to pillage drill more oil in the US.  (Okay, Hammond ain't my brethren and he'll get no link from me.)    I actually like Geeguy's thinking ... to a point.  Yes, opening up American reserves of oil would be a quick fix, and people  (certainly NOT BITTER) will support such a move to get a respite from high gas prices.  Only. One. Problem.  Geeguy, and I can only assume Samuelson, are promoting a quick panacea that has no assurance of working.

By relying on the idea that Americans will weakly choose to do whatever feels good (kind of insulting to some of us) the theory is that if we open up American reserves to drilling, the public will be assuaged by lower prices at the pump.  That may be the case, for a short while.  However, it also may not be.  The oil industry hasn't blamed the high price on lack of supply, but on limited processing.  'We don't have enough refining', so they wail.  Simply put, we don't lack for reserves of oil, but for those of gasoline.  That's why the Clinton/McCain (I wonder who wears the pantsuit in that union) plan to give us a break in gas tax may seem spiffy, but won't work.  It's really a  matter of reserves, and we don't have any that we need, not money, not political capital and not gasoline.  Thank Chimpy mcWorthless for most of the aforementioned.

I know more than just a little about complexity dynamics, complex systems and chaos theory.    So I bear a high degree of confidence in writing that anyone who proposes that the only solution to global warming, mass famine and high gas prices is to burn more oil is being, at best, disingenuous.  They are promoting the idea of the excluded middle.  We can burn ethanol and starve folks, or we can burn oil and be smack-happy.  Uhhhh, no.  Complex systems don't work quite that simply.  I'd been mulling over an explanation of the point for weeks, and never got around to writing.  But as usually happens (Serendipity!) someone else wrote my thoughts for me.    I give you ... Devilstower:

What happened that evening illustrates how systems that are enormously costly and massive, can still be incredibly fragile and subject to the failure of a single part.  There's a famous antecedent that John Glenn, moments before he was about to become the first American in orbit, realized that he was sitting on a billion dollars worth of low bids. It's good for a smile, until you realize that what was true for Glenn then is even more true for all of us today.
...

Want to know why corporations are able to sit on huge sums of money, but the average worker's pay hasn't increased?  It's because they can get by with fewer of us and still get what they need.  Not more than they need, of course.  Just enough.  Corporations have been proudly "cutting the fat."  Flexibility and robustness are not the goals for a corporate society that rarely glances beyond the end of the current quarter.

I strongly urge reading the whole thing.  But if'n you won't, here's the summery:  Corporate society is focused on paper.  It makes numbers look good, regardless of the wider result.  Because of that, the numbers become more real than the long term results of actions by government or corporate leaders.  Those results are often unexpected and not too pleasant for the bulk of us.  But yet we, as good Amurkins, continue to trust that those numbers lead to solutions, instead of increasingly fragile complexity.  We're kinda foolish that way.

So yeah, we can react, and drill more oil.  And it won't stop profit taking from corporate food growers who avail themselves of opportunity.  It won't stop rising food prices; that horse has fled the barn.  It sure as frack won't do anything for climate (record droughts in those food growing regions we don't care about).  But yeah, it will make our oil executives even richer.  That's a goal I'm sure we can all get behind ... on Grasshopper Planet.

A Very Good Idea

I'll give Budge at least this much credit, he sometimes knows a good idea when he sees one.  He has requested that Montana websites help promote the work of Welcome Home Montana.  That is a request I have no difficulty at all agreeing to.

It should be obvious to us all, regardless of political stripe, that our service people coming home from the sandbox often face significant challenges in readjusting to good ole' civilian life.  Cases of PTSD and suicide are *way* up.  I've had discussions elsewhere with folks who are like minded to myself; not only does it take a village to raise a child, but a community to save a soldier when they're done with the soldiering.  This is a terrific effort, one I hope will be mirrored state wide.  Help if you can, cheer if you can't.

So Much To Do ...

Closing month.  I have a bit of time to comment, but not much to post.  Sorry.

Mansfield Metcalf Dinner Part 1

Let's call this part The Beginnining.

The journey with my beloved to the event in Butte (by way of Dillon) got off to very sour note.  On Saturday morning, the Bozeman Comical ran a lead story that was little else but a Republican hit piece.  It described in garish fantasy how the visit from the Democratic Presidential candidates was ... get this ... bad for state Democrat and a *good thing* for Republicans.  The central theme was that Montana Democrats are afraid to identify as such, and that secretly we all want to be and vote Republican.  Oh, and obviously McCain will win Montana in November.  It was truly a biased op-ed masquerading as journalism (a claim born out when we got to read the fuller version of the AP story in the Montana Standard later in the day.  I tend to view such journamalism with rather derisive humor (especially when they identified Matt Singer as just a "liberal blogger" instead of the CEO of Forward Montana.)  My beloved took it rather more ... harshly.  I guess I should remind her more often that the introductory rate we got for our subscription gains the Comical no profit.  The passing of dinosaurs is her favorite theme, and our local fishwrap is just one instance of the extinct  misunderstanding their own obsolete nature.

So, we booked off to Dillon to pick up the rest of the crew and head to Butte.  We go to Butte.  Driving driving ... (this is the part of the story where there should be a montage to indicate the exciting passage of time.)   And we get in line to get in.  Folks, I am not lying when I say that that line was approaching  a quarter mile long, if not well more than that.  And it was cold.  As amusing as it would be, I won't wax descriptive of the wait to enter, mostly because it wasn't that amusing.  What I will happily say is this:  there were one helluva lot of strong determined people who wanted to enter that event, and nothing was gonna stop   them.  For an hour and a half, we all froze together, joked together, distrusted and trusted each other.  But very damn few, if any, called it quits and left.  There were several people I knew who walked past to get in for floor seating, including Monica Lindeen and Matt.  And dude, would please get a better jacket?  The retro look is cool and all, but you're somebody now, and you ought to dress the part ...  The high point was when the Obama cavalcade drove by.  Cops, SUVs and a bus.  Most of the crowd thought that a way cool thing.  I loved it because when the bus went by it was a way warm thing.  Yeah I was excited too, but still.  It was warm for a second and certain human things come first

On the way through the door, I got to do something I've been waiting to do for just shy of three years.  John Parker, who is running for Attorney General of Montana, was passing out stickers right at the entrance.  And I got to shake his hand.  Ya' see, three years ago John Parker had had enough of Roger Koopman's crap, and let him know it.  I've wanted to shake his hand and thank him ever since, and now I have.

Let's call this part of the narrative The Eventening.

Of course I got pulled for the raised-arm-scary-dude security check.  My belt buckle set off the alarm.  I told security that it would, but still, I got the wand.  If I get cancer in my balls, I'm suing somebody; that's for certain.  We all, upon re-meeting, fled up into the stands to find good seats.   Let me just say that the Butte Civic center stadium seating  *sucks rocks*.  It is cramped.  There are no walkways.  The seat-backs add to the aforementioned problems.  It is a poor venue.  But, and that's a huge bootay but, the people were mostly great.  We helped each other get situated, we made room.  There were a few folks who got pissy about pass-through, or stepping on seats, but most  of the people there were common in cause, and very polite.  While I was trying to arrange dinner boxes for our group, I ran into a co-worker (very excited to be there, and probably very cold from the wait) as well as my state representative, Franke Wilmer, looking beautiful and charming as always.

Okay, let's us be honest here.  We all felt somewhat out of place, out of time.   This was a huge huge event.  There was not one person there, great or small including myself, who didn't feel the gravity of what Montana was experiencing.  Our next President was in the house, and was going to speak.  We all felt that awkwardness, that discomfort at socially accepted norms not known, and that simple confidence.  This night was making history.

Throughout the night, I saw many people I knew (most within the 'protected zone').  Some people I've worked with.  Some I have politicked with, and some I still do.  Some I blog with.  I do remain saddened that more social groupings - meetups - get togethers could not have been arranged.  But I was rather heartened by the idea that we were mostly there for common cause.  Let me be honest in pointing out at this point that 10 dollars a seat should not have separated the groupings.   No, I'm not saying that we should have had their food or their legroom.  But we should have not been divided into the center of importance and the masses above.  In that venue, it felt rather artificial and unnecessary.  Throughout the night, I felt that mildly unfair juxtaposition rather acutely, considering the nature and character of the speakers we listened to.

Dennis McDonald is alright by far.  I've never had the opportunity to meet the guy, but I do look forward to the day.  He appears humble, hard-working, humorous and jovial.  He introduced Barack Obama ... and the crowd went wild.    There were many more Hillary signs at the event, but there was no denying the thunder of Obama's support.  I think Obama supporters outnumbered Clinton's by a factor of 3 to 2.  This guy is popular in Montana, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.  Obama was very gracious to Montana and his hosts.  I was actually impressed that he admits that he doesn't know what many of us take for granted, fishing.  His praise for our state officials appeared genuine.  This Chicago boy actually seems to like Montana, and his visit here.  I hope that he will fulfill his promise to return, and learn to fish ... though I can think of many who could probably teach him better than our Governor.  I will write more on the substance of the speech later.  And just for the record, though I had planned to do so, I was not the guy who yelled "Freebird!"  during his speech.

When Barack left the stage, a form of chaos ensued.  Word to the wise:  never act with kids or animals, and never follow Obama with a speech of your own.  Jon Tester took the stage, and after an impassioned plea of behalf of Jim Hunt, he introduced Max Baucus.  Max, the video is lame.  Just sayen' ...  Max is not a good mass public speaker.  I've known that for  very long time.  His speech here was ... very lame.  It's possible (probable) that I have a biased attitude but I was not impressed.  He kept saying "I will do thing X.  ARE YOU WITH ME?"  And I kept saying, yeah, but are you with us? 
It's at this point that I have to make enemies by writing the truth.  Good God in heaven; what a rude bunch the people on the floor were.  Most of us unwashed masses in the stadium seating were too confined to noisily talk and socialize while the other speakers were speaking, but not so with the floor.  It was damned hard to hear Max (partly his own fault) and it was hard to hear anyone after him until Hillary.  I guess I'm old school, but I was taught that if you have someone speaking, you damn well better listen.  (I've been struggling with this because I didn't want to offend, but ... the folks in the Forward Montana crowd were as bad as any.  V, you looked sharp.  But the eyes in the sky of the unwashed masses see all, and the party rude was ... well ... rude.)

When the chatter below really got offensive was when Stephanie Herseth Sandlin  spoke.  First, I paid attention because she's hot.  No, really, she's hot.  (Yeah, I know I'm a pig).    Second, I really wanted to hear what she had to say.  She's bright, and there's no doubt about that.  Third, I only heard about 2/3 of her speech because of the noise.  I was not amused.  What I did hear, I can't say I was impressed with.  I enjoyed the western anecdotes.  But, mostly I was left with the impression that she talked much and said little.  I find that sad because I really think she had much to say.  She was to be the keynote speaker, but there's nothing like getting up-staged by Presidential candidates.  I hope to hear more from her in the future.  She's obviously bright, and very committed.  And she's hot ... did I mention that?

The nicest thing about listening to Jon Tester and the Governor Brian Schweitzer is that they didn't need attention or the microphone.  Those guys ... project.  They are Montana, through and through.  It's impossible to be a Democrat in Montana and not adore these guys.  Many would have us believe that it's because they are 'characters'.  Nope.  They're just good people doing a good job, good and loudly.  It's hard to fault that.  And Jag is just too damned cool.

Which brings us to the final act, Hillary Clinton.  She looked good, when she finally took the stage.  The other speakers compressed time, and we found ourselves with dead air at 25 to 9.  Still no Hillary.  At 9, still no Hillary.  Dennis McDonald made the introduction at 5 after.  I was looking at my niece and telling her that one thing that will not thrill Montanans is to keep 'em waiting (with her agreement.)  Still, when Ms. Clinton took the stage there was much energy, and a rather sudden quiet.  Her speech was almost a direct mirror of Obama's, with more Chimpy McWorthless hate, and less standing applause.  She said many good things, but most of us were too tired (or in the case of the floor folk, too drunk) to receive the message quite as enthusiastically.  Still, she is a helluva speaker, and she energized the crowd ... somewhat too often to go home.

I just want to say to all of you folks leaving in the middle of Hillary's speech in order to beat the traffic:  You suck!  How rude can you be?  The speech was not bad, and was actually something you might have wanted to hear.  You folks suck!

I will save my after-thoughts (The Endenning) for later.

Battle Circle

Your choice, cupcake.

That Had To Hurt, And It Did

I managed to chop a goodly portion of flesh off the tip of my ring finger.  Though I tend to think of myself as a two-finger typist, it turns out I do use more, but not now.  So, if typos get bad, or posting goes light, I hope that you'll understand.

Why I Think The 'Neighborhood Zone' Idea Is Full Of Crap

I like Jeff Krause, the once and future mayor of Bozeman.  I really do.  He has a really good fantastical idea of how things 'ought' to work in the town.  Okay, not so much town anymore, but city.  Ya' see, Jeff's idea is neighborhood communities, groupings of business and residence such that people can co-exist with pride in neighborhood, and lack of strife.  What a load of crap.

This idea would be sterling in Philly, or Denver, or Pheonix.  Not so much in Bozeman.  Montana is mobile and, gas prices not withstanding, it will remain so.  People will drive a block to go to the store.  I'm not making this up, and I can't fall in line with the fantasy that does make this up.  That would be Jeff's fantasy ... and it doesn't apply to the real world.

It should be obvious that the only reason I care about this is because I have a fricking BAR across the street.  Jeff rightly portrays it as a 'neighborhood pub', though technically it is a 'tasting room'.  Bullshit.  It is a bar, complete with priviledged regular customers and a negative impact on the area.  Honestly, I try as hard as I can to ignore the negative impact, but there really is no ignoring it.  There is no parking, there is noise, there is outside drunkenness and there is confrontation.  There are those who damage property in adjacent areas, and freely allow their dogs to do the same.  (Do you really need the pictures of the drunk assholes who throw rocks at my tree, or my house, or the dogshit that actually litters the sidewalk in front of my residence?  If you'd like, I can post the pictures of the toddlers who are left playing on the walkway in front while their parents are in getting sauced.  Family-friendly pub, indeed.)  I am not out of line in saying that this 'happy neighborhood pub' will negatively impact the resale value of my house.  And it certainly negatively impacts the quality of my life in this neighborhood.

Just 30 minutes ago:

Me, opens front door and speaks to the guy who just parked his motorcycle half in front of the driveway:  "Excuse me.  Could you please move your bike out from in front of the driveway.  Please."

Dipspork:  "Yeah.  But there's a curb here."  (Points to the rear tire against the slope of the curb leading into the driveway.)

Me:  "Yeah, but your front tire is parked in front of the driveway.  Couldn't you just move the bike?"

DS:  "What?  Who's comin' in here?"

Me:  "My wife will be coming home soon.  Could you please just move your bike?"

DS:  "Man, I can park here.  I'll just be here for a while.  You can still pull in."

Me:  " Fine.  You can argue with me, or I'll call the cops and you can fucking argue with them."

DS:  "Fine!  Call the cops."

He pulled the bike back, which would have been completely acceptable.  But apparently, he didn't really trust that I wouldn't call the cops  (I did and will continue to, and one does wonder what he had to hide ...).  He left not one minute later.  And that's the point.  These asses know that they are doing the wrong thing, but they won't care unless there are legal consequences.  Neighborhood zones?  They only work when it's neighbors who are affected.  In Bozeman?  Assholes rule.

I'm sorry, Jeff.  The neighborhood zone idea is a really good fantasy.  But in Montana, especially as regards alcohol provision, it's a load of crap.  I fully expect my tires to be slashed tonight.  It won't be the first time, but hey ... it's all about the neighborhood pub, right?