until next year...
And now, for your cliche, yet important, New Year's message: Don't drink and drive. Only jackasses do that and you're not a jackass.
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December 31, 2003
BlogMadness: all the fun of March Madness without having to put up with Dick Vitale
Ah, March Madness.
Oh, wait. It's only January (sort of). Almost three full months of crappy college basketball until we get to the fun of brackets and the Final Four.
Fellow Madness lovers, you don't have to wait until March to print out a bracket and start red-lining your picks and pans. Let me introduce you to BlogMadness.
what would happen if you combined the fun and excitement of March Madness with the writing (brilliant and otherwise) which abounds in the blogosphere? The result of our discussion was the creation of a Blog Tournament. Everyone would go through their 2003 archives (which is fun in and of itself), pull out their very best post, and enter it in the tournament. We'll throw together a bracket, everyone will vote, and in the end the winners will be crowned King or Queen of some small portion of Blogland.
I like this idea better than any other blogging year-end contest ever, because it is based solely on writing and content. It's not about being American or Canadian, gay or straight, an A-list or never heard of blogger. You just enter what you think was your best post of 2003 and watch the fun ensue. Even if you don't enter, or your entry gets wiped out in the first round, there will still be that same March Madness excitement with Cinderella teams (blogs) and the anticipation of the final round.
So yes, I'm going to enter. Why not? My problem, of course, is in choosing one entry out of something like 1,000 that I wrote in 2003. I suppose later on in the week I'll go through the archives and pick favorites of my own and whittle the list down from that, but if you have a favorite of mine from this year (you can see all 2003 posts here, starting from this one, working your way up), drop a note in the comments.
And, if you are planning on entering, let me know so I can cheer you on.
Now, onto the preparation of jello shots.
predictions: bloggers editions
Ah, New Year's Eve. Time for ruminating and resolutions. Also time for drinking, throwing up and making an idiot of yourself, but we'll get to that later.
I'll join the ranks of millions and make some predictions. But I'll stick to a subject I happen to know a lot about: bloggers.
- Glenn Reynolds will write the sentence Indeed. 145 times.
- Oliver Willis will post
38138 photos of Britney Spears and/or Beyonce in various stages of undress. - Bill will alienate every single one of his readers.
- Allah's true identity will be discovered. He is, indeed, Jesus.
- One of the Bitch Girls will run for public office under the platform of Guns Are Sexy!
- Stephen Green will get violently ill after drinking too much Grey Goose one night and subsequently change his blog name to TequilaPundit.
- Dr. Frank will have to close down his blog when the new MTX album becomes such a huge hit that groupies start leaving pictures of their underwear in his comments.
- Mikey will make 1,389 references to porn.
- Jim Treacher will be the subject of an internet exposé.
- Stacy will develop the ability to kill a trolling commenter just by thinking about it.
- James Lileks will reveal that his favorite song is Sister Christian by Night Ranger.
As for me, I have only one resolution, one prediction. I will get something published this year.
Feel free to add your own blogger predictions. I'm off to buy annoying noisemakers and silly hats and lots of liquor so I will not have any inhibitions about using the annoying noisemakers and silly hats.
Update: I really meant to type "138" in reference to Oliver. Seriously, does anyone in their right mind think he could stop at 38? Maybe I should make it 538....
December 30, 2003
looking back at 2003: manning the post
I was looking through my archives for 2003. Blogging is a great way to keep tabs on your life. Things I swore happened in 2002 happened in 2003. It's nice to be able to fact-check yourself.
So many things happened this year; good, bad, funny, sad - the usual span of emotions and motions one goes through in a full year.
One of the best things that happened in 2003 was the creation of The Command Post.
It started here on March 20:
So many of us are blogging minute by minute about this war. We are all basically posting the same news links, with our own comments added in. We should have come up with something like The Corner to blog this war together.
Two minutes later I received an email from Alan saying let's do it. Less than two hours later, he had a Blogger Pro account set up and the first draft of the Command Post was born. Two hours later, ten bloggers had joined our ranks.
Three days later, we had a shiny new URL and a Sekimori design.
In the first few weeks, we broke one million visitors. We were featured in Time, Newsweek, the Washington Post, Newsday, several radio shows and a myriad of other publications I can't think of off the top of my head. We were being fed tips by important people at important locations. We were linked to by major media outlets. It was an interesting time.
Once the war started winding down people wondered what would happen to TCP. Alan and I never really thought about that; I guess in our minds we always figured it was something we would keep going. We added different sections, started covering the war on terror, Iran, North Korea and later the race for the White House. We added an OpEd section so our contributors could state their opinions while keeping the rest of the site bias free. Mostly.
My father was reading TCP and so were all his friends and business associates. My boss was reading it. My whole family was keeping up with the war through this site.
Our contributors made the site. Each and every one of them put hard work and long hours into covering the war in return for not a single penny, and most of them are still going at it.
Nearly a year later TCP is still going strong. We cover news as quickly as it happens, sometimes beating the major sites to the punch. A good day for me is when I beat Drudge to posting a major news item.
Yes, TCP consumes me sometimes. I am constantly reading news sites, newspaper, magazines, listening to the radio, scanning weblogs and watching news crawls. I like the rush of trying to get a story posted before it's already stale. I like being able to use TCP to reach out, to point our readers to things like Operation Give, Books for Soldiers, or any kind of disaster relief when it's needed. I like taking part in something that is here and now, like when we covered the blackout this past summer. I've always been a news junkie; Command Post just feeds into that information addiction I have and I thrive on it.
I like to think we are performing a valuable service. Many people have written to tell us that they head to TCP whenever there is breaking news. Some have said that they like the varied information they can get there. Others say that they enjoy the heated discussions in the comment section. Whatever your reason for coming there, if you do, I just want to say thank you for making this happen.
TCP may or may not exist well into the future. It may or may not become a source of steady income for Alan and I. It may or may not help me land a writing job. Whatever it does or doesn't do, the one thing I'll always be grateful for is the friendship with Alan that came out of this project.
Alan, thanks for making TCP what it is, for putting up with me and for making 2003 an exciting, if frantic, year. And Kate, thanks for graciously allowing me to eat up a lot of your husband's time.
I hope all of you TCP readers are still around when we cover the 2008 election, the realization of world peace, and the Red Sox winning the World Series. In other words, for a long, long time.
Update: I want to thank Jeff Jarvis for pointing something out in this post. : TCP doesn't report the news. Our real strength lies in "finding, editing, selecting, and presenting the very latest and best news..." He says, They edited the world and did a great job of it.
And I should thank you, Jeff, for your strong support of TCP right from the start.
reminder
Did I tell you that Four Color Hell is back? Yes, I did. Well, I've got a list of year-end lists over there.
And while I'm on the subject of my other sites, Command Post is just rocking these days.
bloggers v. journalists
Jessica's Well sets off a debate (intentionally) by asking for comments on this:
Resolved: This House (OK, this Blog) believes that the collective knowledge of the blogosphere is greater than the collective knowledge of professional journalists regardless of the subject.
My response:
We seek our knowledge out. There's is handed to them at story meetings. We fact check each other. They don't. We have a passion for our subjects that many professional journalists lack. We have each other to rely on for knowledge, as well. Want to write something about the Iranian earthquake? Read a few Iranian blogs. I certainly didn't know nearly as much about the city of Bam than I do now - simply by reading and following links on other blogs.
We are far more knowledgeable because our database (each other) is nearly bottomless.
Head for her comments and add your two (or ten) cents. I think I'll expand on these thoughts later.
Super Bowl Prediction
I'm going out on a limb here, but I just feel it.
Pack wins. Favre gets MVP.
There's no greater motivator than love.
And I say this without bias even though I'm a Pack fan.
inner demons: Oh my God! That's MY nipple!
Scott (you remember Scott, he's the guy who saw Joe Lieberman pee) poses an interesting question today: What tv character would represent your inner demon?
After giving it much thought - and discarding my original answers of Jan Brady, Kimmy Gibbler and Wesely T. Owens, the evil little brother from Mr. Belvedere - it dawned on my who my evil alter-ego really is.
Elaine Benes. Elaine and I have in common the fact that we both hang around mostly with guys. In fact, when I was in high school, I was the lone girl in group of five. We never ate at Monk's, but we did hang out at the same 7-11 pinball machine corner ever day.
However, it's not about what I have in common with Elaine; with an inner demon it's more like what I want to be sometimes, what I would become if I had no inhibitions or morals. Your inner demon usually has the personality traits of someone you despise. And I often despise Elaine Benis.
Elaine is self-centered, self-absorbed and a bit on the neurotic side. She's impulsive, egotistical, and rude. She's incompetent at most of her jobs because she really doesn't care about doing a good job. And, she's a skank. A ho. A woman who keeps a storage of contraceptives in her closet. She also has a tendency to fall for dangerous, psychotic men.
Elaine :"I'm not a terrible person."
Jerry :"Noooo...."
Elaine :"No, when I shoo squirrels away, I always say 'Get out of here." I never ever throw things at them and try to injure them like other people."
Jerry :"That's nice."
Elaine : "Yeah, and when I see freaks in the street, I never ever stare at them, and yet I'm careful not to look away, see, because I want to make the freaks feel comfortable."
Jerry : "That's nice for the freaks."
Elaine :"Yeah, and I don't poof up my hair when I go to the movies so people can see."
Yes, my inner Elaine comes out sometimes. I can't help it. Sometimes I will be that stranger at a party who counters the obnoxious behavior of another guest with Maybe the dingo ate your baby.
iran
President Mohammad Khatami said Tuesday U.S. aid to earthquake victims in Iran, while welcome, would not alter the state of relations between the two arch foes who broke off ties nearly a quarter century ago.
"I don't think this incident will change our relations with the United States," Khatami told a news conference in the capital of southeastern Kerman province where officials say up to 50,000 people were killed in a quake that struck Friday.
I certainly didn't expect the mullahs to change their tune. But the people will. And then there's this:
Nothing could ever show the real sense of diconnectivity and distrust between Iranian people and the Islamic regime, and its deeply dysfunctionality better than a devastating quake. Everywhere you go and every blog you read, there is talk about the political implications of such tragedy going on.
Read the whole thing. It may make you think differently about the situation.
Worst New Year's Eve Ever or I Want A Man Just Like Dick Clark
New Year's Eve, 1992.
I'm eight months pregnant with my second child. The first child, almost three years old, has a raging fever and sinus infection. My then husband has chosen to take the overnight shift at his job, leaving me home to take care of the sick child on a holiday evening.
I make little snacks for myself and the daughter to eat while we wait for midnight. Of course, there is no way I'll make it to midnight because I'm suffering from exhaustion, plus the only way to forget that I am so huge that I waddle instead of walk and it takes me about an hour to tie my shoes is to sleep. Forget the daughter. She's on some mixture of antibiotics and cold medicine that knocks her out for hours at a time.
After an hour of coloring and making silly little crafts, I decide to turn the clock ahead, pretend it's midnight, celebrate the new year with a toast of sparkling grape juice (white grape juice and seltzer) and go cry myself to sleep while thinking about the misery that is my life.
Daughter has other ideas. She decided that what she really wants to do is to vomit up a pile of medicine, snacks and chocolate milk all over the living room floor. I try not to cry as I attempt to clean up the floor, my very pregnant belly pressing against the rug as I'm on my hands and knees scraping puke from the carpet. The daughter has passed out on the couch.
I pick her up while she's sleeping - no small feat for a pregnant woman with sciatica - lay her on her bed and change her out of the vomit-covered pajamas she was wearing. I wash her up and tuck her in and she never flinches, never wakes up even once and I wonder if maybe she's gone into a coma and she's suffering from some terrible strain of the flu or a virus that the doctor overlooked, so I stay in her room and make sure her breathing is even and that she responds - even in her sleep - to a pinch on her arm. She does. I feel bad, but love hurts sometimes, you know?
I go back to the living room and clean up the crafts. It's only 8:00. I call my husband at his job to tell him how this night is going but he says he's busy, can't talk and as I go to hang up the phone I hear the sound of a merry party going on in the background and I yell into the receiver I hope you're having fun! Slam the phone down. Go on the couch and pout.
I flip through various rocking and rolling New Year's specials. I'm bored. I'm lonely. I wonder what kind of husband Dick Clark would make. I wonder if his wife gets pissed that he's out every New Year's eve, but then I figure that she's probably in the ABC green room munching on caviar and sipping champagne and saying, Yes I'm Dick Clark's wife. I'm soooo lucky.
I fall into a light sleep, sitting up with the remote in my hand, and I start to dream about the ghost of New Year's past, when midnight meant giant swigs of Boonesfarm wine that someone stole from their father and a joint passed around with Pink Floyd playing in the background and maybe a stolen kiss, even an attempt to get under my shirt, which I respond to with a kick in the shin. If you're not Dick Clark rockin', don't come knockin'. Yea, I always had a thing for Dick. Clark.
10:00 on this miserable New Year's Eve. I decide to go to bed. I call my parents to wish them Happy New Year and I sneak in a few well-placed twinges of self-pity, hoping they'll tell me to pack up the kid and come on over to celebrate with them. But my parents had a long-standing tradition - since all of their kids were old enough to be out without a curfew - that New Year's Eve, being my father's birthday, was their special night and no one was allowed to interfere with it. My father would make lobster and shrimp and he and my mother would sit in front of the fireplace and sip wine and enjoy the evening alone. We all complied with their wishes because it was our understanding that this was the only night of the year that my father was able to get some from mom. At least that's what he told us.
So I get on the phone and whine and cry and tell them I'm going to bed because I just want this year to end and they wish me a Happy New Year and I hang up with my bottom lip trembling as I try to keep from exploding in the biggest fit of self-pity my family has ever seen.
I put on my pajamas. I settle into bed with Dick Clark and the remote. And then I hear the sound of little feet and they aren't pitter pattering, they are running. Full steam. And they are accompanied by the sound of a three year old girl screaming Moommy! I can't stop the poop! It won't stop! Oh lord.
I get up and catch her just as she's about to slip in whatever she's trailing behind her. Oh, yes. Diarreah. Bad, bad diarreah, most likely a result of the antibiotics that I assumed she lost with the vomiting episode. Her jammies are brown and drooping. It's running down her legs. I scoop her up and run into the bathroom, throw her in the bathtub. It takes about an hour to clean both of us, the kitchen floor and the bathroom up. She falls asleep on the living floor, I just fall to the floor in tears. Dick Clark stares at me from the tv. Stop your crying, woman! Get up and make the most of what you have! Right.
I go back into the bathroom to wash my face and see that the daughter, who insisted on helping me clean the tub and the floor, threw some of the used baby wipes in the toilet. I flush without thinking. The toilet overflows. And overflows. I try to stop it. I use the plunger to no avail. I call my father. The...toilet...won't...stop! He thinks I've been drinking. Or smoking. He has no idea what I'm talking about and I take his questions as a sign that he doesn't care. I want my sisters to come take care of me. They both have plans. Sorry, you've got to deal with the toilet on your own, sis. There is no way I can convey the misery of my evening to them.
I call the husband while I'm cleaning up the toilet overflow (I finally got the water to stop pouring out) and he asks why I can't take care of anything myself. I hang up. I cry again.
My mother calls to see how it's going with the toilet. I break out into a long, wailing cry, the kind that Italian grandmothers invoke over the coffins of their husbands (whom they hated while they were alive). Nobody loves me! I'm now sobbing and my breath is coming in deep heaves. No...body....loves me! I'm all alone and the toilet won't work and the daughter is losing her lunch from both ends and the baby is kicking me and I smell like poop and vomit and my husband is in New Jersey having the time of his life and I bet Dick Clark would never, ever do this to his wife!
When I'm finally done, my mother heaves a heavy sigh. Fine, come on over. I wrap the daughter in a heavy blanket and we walk across the street to my parent's house. It's 11:00. I fall asleep at 11:10. I miss Dick Clark ushering in the New Year and when I wake the house is dark and my parent's bedroom is closed so I assume that my dad got his yearly present anyhow, which makes me want to throw up just thinking of it and thinking of throwing up makes me relive the whole sordid evening in my head. I curl up next to my daughter, in the room where I used to sleep back in the day and I wish a whispered new year greeting in her ear. I silently make some resolutions, some that take years to complete, but I do eventually complete them all.
Except for marrying Dick Clark. Who, it turns out, is really a robotron. So I hear.
December 29, 2003
notice
Saying this once and once only. I will not respond to any emails that address this issue:
I am not "in a fight" with either Laurence or Meryl. I love Meryl like a sister and I love Laurence like the retarded brother I never had.
We have the ability to disagree strongly yet still remain friends. That's sort of the basis of a good friendship, I think.
the newest threat:
Almanacs. Be on the lookout for people carrying almanacs.
But what kind of almanac, specifically? Should I be dodging people carrying the Farmer's Almanac? The Baseball Almanac?
So many almanacs so few terrorist type (shifty eyes, possibly wearing a stocking on face, uzi strapped to side) people walking around. We need to be careful to not engage in almanac profiling. Perhaps we should narrow down the list of almanacs to the most dangerous.
Let's discount dog almanacs and tree almanacs and almanacs that predict the best day to harvest the crop so as not to upset the children of the corn. Damn, it's all a bit confusing, isn't it? We don't want to end up calling the authorities on a person who was just reading Leo Laporte's Technology Almanac. That's embarassing enough in itself. Let's not be so quick to judge people by their fact-reading habits.
So go easy on our almanac reading citizens. Unless, of course, they are reading the 2003 issue of this:
fives
Let's move on to the pleasantries, shall we? I think I'll continue on with my listmaking.
Five Movies I Will See in 2004
1. SpongeBob SquarePants, The Movie [see the hilarious trailer here]
2. Garden State. I originally looked into this title because I thought it was a movie version of the Rick Moody book of the same name, which I enjoyed. It's not, but it still looks like a good movie, and it's got Natalie Portman.
3. Spiderman 2. Of course.
4. The Incredibles. It's Pixar, so everyone should see it.
5. Hellboy. Please, please, please do not ruin this one. Please.
[Yes, there are others, but these were the first five I could think of]
Five Movies I Will be Sure Not to See in 2004
1. Garfield
2. Scooby Doo 2
3. Star Wars Episode III (Ok, so that's 2005, I'm just getting my hate on in advance)
4. Dawn of the Dead. Why remake a classic?
5. Seed of Chucky. Please. Stop. Now.
Five DVDs I Will Buy in 2004
1. Curb Your Enthusiasm - The First Season
2. Ed Wood Special Edition
3. Comic Book - The Movie (this one is a bit confusing as some sites say it will be a theater release and some say it will be a DVD release)
4. Futurama Season 3
5. Simpsons Season 4 (assuming they release it)
The One Album I Will Buy Through Amazon So No One Knows I Bought it, Yet I Will Be Strangely Proud to Own it:
William Shatner, produced by Ben Folds, guest appearance by Henry Rollins. Read about this remarkable work in progress here [scroll down just a bit]
Five Things I Should Be Doing Right Now
No, nevermind. I'm going to finish Legend of Zelda.
1. Raft 2. Ladder 3. Red Candle 4. Potion 5. Magic Wand
on giving even when it hurts
It seems I opened a can of worms yesterday. I wasn't trying to bait anyone with those worms; I was more or less just letting them loose.
Laurence claims I was being righteous. Perhaps I was. If the ability to separate people in distress from their crazed government is righteous, so be it.
Meryl says I have no idea what it's like to be a Jew, so I can't understand why her and Laurence would refuse aid to the people of Bam, and I can never understand their visceral anger.
I only know what it's like to be hated as an American. I know that people hate us so much that they would steer full planes into office buildings and kill thousands of people in the name of that hatred. But no, I am not a Jew - although I am a passionate defender of the Jews - so I have no idea about hatred that would drive one to hate a government so much that you would take it out on the people. Perhaps I am being naive or simplistic. Prehaps not.
It's a personal choice, I suppose, whether to support the U.S. decision to send aid to Iran. It's certainly personal when it comes to giving on your own. In much the same way, their anger is personal and who am I to dispute that anger or ask them to justify it?
See, maybe I can't "understand" what Jews go through, not being Jewish myself. But, you know, by that criterion I can't understand what it means to be Chinese, or Yanomamo, or male, or a victim (yet) of a suicide bomber, or anything but Andrea Harris.
Right. All I understand is my need to help people in need. I can't do anything from my safe little haven here except ask other people to help as well.
Lileks seems to share my feelings:
I heard a network news feed on the radio say that the US was sending aid despite having branded Iran as a member of the Axis of Evil. Oy. Did the author of that dispatch believe that the administration regarded the Iranian people as a seething mass indistinguishable from the calculated madness of the ruling clerics?
For me, it's simple. Earthquake = disaster = people in need. Conversely, we have your basic mathematical theory:
The Iranian government hates Jews.
The citizens of Bam are Iranian.
Therefore, the citizens of Bam hate Jews.
True or false?
A prize to everyone who said false. It was kind of obvious though, wasn't it? Maybe. Maybe some people see this:
The Iranian government hates Jews.
People who live in Iran are Iranian.
All Iranians should suffer the same wrath of my anger for the simple fact that they are Iranian and their mullahs hate Jews.
True or false?
Ah, but that's a personal theory, not a mathematical one. So we'll leave it at that. I give to Mercy Corps, you give to MDA and we both feel like we've done something, right? Well, I've given to MDA as well. And the IDF.
And there's where my claws come out. I think it was Laurence's need to add this little self-righteous paragraph after his childish braying about the people of Iran:
This gets me to wondering. How many other Blogathon participants keep an active fundraising campaign/effort for their charity going year-round? How many others do more than just toss the third-class postal announcements or e-mail newsletters or let their bumperstickers and buttons gather dust on a shelf?
So, my work for MDA during the blogathon is not as worthy as yours because you give to MDA year round? Please. Get over yourself. You are not any more virtuous or charitable than anyone else who gives, be it a child giving a dollar of their allowance or someone raising thousands of dollars for the same charity.
And while we are on the subject of that particular post, I'll take issue with this statement as well:
Don't like it? Tell the students to grow some balls and bring the Mad Mullahs down instead of whining on their weblogs and pretending they're cyberrevolutionaries.
Seriously, Laurence. Do you really think it's that easy to rise up against a regime that would shoot people just for thinking about a revolution if they could? It's so easy to say that from the comfort of America, but if you really read any of those weblogs, you would know how hard it is to fight fire with nothing more than words.
I'm feeling very disillusioned today.
If you would care to give to the people of Bam, you can use the link to Mercy Corps in my sidebar or go here for other links.
Update: Ilyka has much more on this subject, as does Starhawk and Mike Sanders.
December 28, 2003
this evening's medical advice
When fresh out of NyQuil, Sake makes an excellent substitute.
Conversion:
3 shotglasses of chilled sake = 2 tablespoons NyQuil
spiteful and loyal are two different things
Many Iranians have shouted slogans or expressed signs for stating their gratitudes to the US and Israeli governments despite getting beaten up by the regime's security apparatus present to monitor these gatherings.
For those of you who would deny the survivors of the Bam earthquake aid from the U.S. because the Iranian government happens to be Jew-hating tyrants, keep the above statement in mind. The people are not necessarily the government and vice versa.
While I think the Iran regime's decision to not accept aid from Israel is deplorable, I really expected nothing less from them. However, that does not mean that we shouldn't come to the aid of those who need it. Bam is one of the poorest regions in Iran. These people are completely devasted. There are children who need food, elderly who need blankets, thousands who need blood. It's a bit sad that you would want to make their suffering worse by saying no to their pleas for help.
Iraq's former government was not exactly Israel-friendly. So why would you support the war against Iraq, support spending billions of U.S. money to bring democracy and peace to that country, yet deny these Iranians basic medical supplies?
We get it. You're virtuous. When you want to be, of course.
Thank you
Tanya (who is blogging again) received this email today:
Dear Tanya,We threw a donut and pizza party for our soldiers on Friday on behalf of the readers of "A Small Victory" who most generously contributed. The total amount raised was $651.
Please pass on our sincere thanks to Michele and all the readers of "A Small Victory" who showed their support for IDF soldiers during these trying times.
Best Regards,
Karen
www.pizzaIDF.org
Thank you to everyone who donated. Same time next year?
Bam: Past, Present, Future
[Please note that I knew little about Bam before this week, save for what my children learned about from their history books. My research today turned up many conflicting facts about dates and periods. I did my best to gather what I hope is correct information about the history of Bam]
The human toll in the devasting Iranian earthquake seems almost unfathomable. It's hard to comprehend so many people - over 20,000 - dying in one day, in one place.
Photos can show you the wreckage. They can show you the crumbled buildings, the flattened homes, the roads that have all but disappeared. 
You can see the human wreckage as well; tiny bodies wrapped in colorful blankets, laid out on the roadside awaiting burial. You see the anguished faces of men and women praying over the corpses of their relatives.
You look at these pictures and you try to imagine these people before the quake. You see a small child smiling, a mother cooking, a father working. At some point you stop looking at the photos. You stop watching the sweeping, panoramic shots of the devastion and turn off the tv, close the newspaper, shut down the computer. You go about your day and maybe you don't think about the quake and its victims again because it's too much. Your brain will not let you imagine the scope of so much death in one place, so many lives ruined and families lost.
While the human loss is a tragedy so enormous we may not want to think about it, their is the historical loss to ponder as well.
Bam was founded in a time so ancient, the years are accounted for with only three digits. Some of the structures in Bam dated back to the Sassanian period, from 224-637 AD. Imagine that. Structures made of nothing more than clay, straw, mud bricks and tree trunks withstood the rigors of so much time and now, in 2003, they are gone.
There was the Zoroastrian fire temple, which was the commercial center of Bam, as well as a site visited by many pilgrims during that time. Later, a mosque was built there, as well a the tomb of an astronomer.
Most of Bam was actually built during the Safavid period, from 1502-1722. In 1722, Bam was invaded by Afghans. In 1810, it was invaded again, this time by an army from Shiraz. Bam was then used as an army barracks and then abandoned sometime around 1850.
Look at this before (1975) and after (12/26/03) comparison of Bam from Getty Images to understand the magnitude of destruction.
The ancient citadel (over 2,000 years old) of Arg-e Bam and the ruins of the surrounding town is a tourist destination for those who are interested in viewing history. A deep moat that surrounds the citadel has kept it from being damaged. Inside the walls of Arge-e Bam were the original public bath, gym, garrison, stable, jail and the governor's house. [Many photos of historical Bam can be found here]
I was searching for photos of Bam while writing this and came across this one and thought, they are probably dead.
Despite our political differences with Iran, you cannot help but feel sorrow for these people. 
There are those who want to deny aid to the people of Bam simply because of the ideology of their government. We can't turn our backs on people in need on the basis that their leader is a hateful, dangerous man. If we can send doctors, food, medicine, clothing and comfort to those who need it and we don't, that makes us just as despicable as the Iranian government. And we are not like that.
***
Where to go if you want to help:
Activistchat.com, an Iranian activist site, has many photos, complete coverage and a forum about helping the citizens of Bam.
Iranian blogger Pedram has some poignant words as well as links to sites where you can donate money towards relief.
Alireza of Persian Blogger Chronicles has encouraging news about the structure of the citadel, as well as links to relief organizations.
Mercy Corps has a list of ways that you can help the victims.
Red Cross/Red Crescent
Direct Relief
NIA Council
Also, Matthew Stinson has a news-filled, frequently updated post about the earthquake.
December 27, 2003
coughing, quoting, cave-bombing
I'm continuing with the list even though everyone seems to have abandoned me and left me with the sound of crickets chirping. Surely I can't be the only one who is spending Christmas weekend at home with nothing but antibiotics and videogames to keep me company. Well yes, there's the husband and the kids, but for some reason I cannot fathom (could be the incessant hacking cough?) they refuse to come near me. Fine, I'll play Double Dash all by myself.
Anyhow, on with the list.
Five Great Quotes From 2003
1. Mohammed Saeed al-Sahaf: “They fled. The American louts fled. Indeed, concerning the fighting waged by the heroes of the Arab Socialist Baath Party yesterday, one amazing thing really is the cowardice of the American soldiers. We had not anticipated this.”
2. Charles Pierce, Boston Globe: “If she had lived, Mary Jo Kopechne would be 62 years old. Through his tireless work as a legislator, Edward Kennedy would have brought comfort to her in her old age.”
3. Sheryl Crow: "I think war is based in greed and there are huge karmic retributions that will follow. I think war is never the answer to solving any problems. The best way to solve problems is to not have enemies."
4. Lewis Black: "It's 2003. Why can't I teleport?"
5. Johnny Depp as Agent Sanders in Once Upon a Time in Mexico: "Are you a Mexi-can or a Mexi-can't?"
That's all I got. The meds are kicking in and it's time to fall asleep playing Legend of Zelda. Perhaps I'll dream again about blowing holes in walls to find hidden caves.
If you've got better quotes, let's have them.
I had nothing to do with this
I swear, I have not had voodoo relations with that man George Steinbrenner.
FYI
I still comment on the news and politics. I just do it over here, instead. Like this subject, for instance, which has angered me just enough to write a sentence or two about it at CP, but about which I have refrained from going into a full fledged rant over here.
Despite the best effort of some you who have emailed articles to me in the hopes that I will break my streak of not writing about DU, Indymedia, Ted Rall, et al, ASV is still a non-seething site.
Serenity Now. That's the motto and I'm sticking to it.
Lists of Five: 2003 Edition
I decided to make some year end lists just to annoy Gary.
I'm doing them in the List of Fives tradition.
Five Movies I Really Enjoyed
1. Winged Migration [Originally released in 2001, but I only saw it this year]
2. Kill Bill
3. Finding Nemo [Which I enjoyed more the more I watched it]
4. Once Upon A Time in Mexico
5. Pirates of the Carribean
Five TV Shows I Actually Made A Point To Watch
1. Six Feet Under
2. Carnivale
3. The Simpsons
4. Adult Swim [Lots of tv shows that I will count as one because I can]
5. The Saddam Gets Checked For Lice Show
Five Bands That I Used to Like, Who Put Out Releases in 2003 Which I Couldn't Care Less About
1. Korn
2. Staind
3. Metallica
4. Led Zeppelin
5. Radiohead
Five CDs the Daughter Has That Make Me Want to Destroy Her Stereo
1. Kelly Clarkson
2. Ruben Stoddard
3. Clay Aikens
4. American Idols Sing the Something or Other
5. Dashboard Confessional
Five People Who Should Not Have TV Shows But For Some Inexplicable Reasons, They Do and People Watch Them
1. Paris Hilton
2. Ashton Kutchner
3. Shannen Doherty
4. That Hilfiger Chick and Her Friend
5. Bill O'Reilly
You know what? There's more where this came from. I'll be here all weekend. Feel free to add your own Lists of Five.
Mr. Death's Year End Review
Mr. Death had some year. In 2003, he collected a myriad of stars and famous figures, some of whom I wrote blogituaries* for.
Johnny Cash: My first reaction to the news about Johnny Cash was, he's back in the arms of his wife. Almost comforting to think about it.
John Ritter: If you've never seen Stay Tuned, today would be the perfect day to go out an rent it. Sure, you'll have to put up with Pam Dawber through the whole movie, but I think it would be a fitting gesture to the memory of John Ritter to watch him at his finest moment.
Fred Berry: You were cooler than Roger, cuter than Dwayne and sweeter than Shirley.
Robert Palmer: I have no personal stories to tell about Palmer or his music except for the time we made up new words to Addicted to Love and ended up with "Mike Ditka for Lunch."
Gordon Jump: As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly.
Bob Hope: There is no doubt that he was a generous, giving man and a great American.
Mr. Rogers: For a misanthrope like myself, the whole theme of the show flew in the face of everything I believed in.
Maurice Gibb: I still love the old Bee Gees. I still get those pangs of melancholy when I hear "Mining Disaster" or "I Started a Joke." And I will still deny that I ever danced to Jive Talkin' while in a drunken frenzy on my eighteenth birthday.
Uday and Qusay Hussein: "Yes, let the joyous news be spread! The wicked old witches at last are dead!"
George Plimpton: Author, actor, speaker; a true Renaissance Man.
Herb Brooks: Even if he had won a Stanley Cup or two, Brooks would always be known for coaching one of the greatest hockey games ever played and in the eyes of some, the greatest moment in sports.
Harry Goz: Pudding can't fill the emptiness inside me! But it'll help.
And those are just the people I wrote obituaries for. Also dead are:
Warren Zevon, Katherine Hepburn, Charles Bronson, Art Carney, Gregory Hines, Barry White, Gregory Peck, Robert Stack, Nell Carter, Daniel Patrick Moynihan, Idi Amin, David Brinkley, David Bloom, Tex Schramm, Joan Krok, Bill Shoemaker, Warren Spahn and the astronauts aboard the space shuttle Columbia.
I know there were many more, but there was one death that caused a bit of controversy for me, with just two sentences about his death:
Strom Thurmond: I bet even the worms in his coffin find him distasteful. Good riddance to 100 year old racist rubbish.
It's interesting to note that two of my most controversial, mud-slinging, troll-attracting posts occurred when I angered bloggers on the right. Remember the free lunch issue? [Follow ups here, here and here. Oh, and here. And here.
Anyhow, about Mr. Death. He really raked in the celebrities this year and didn't take out as many ruthless dictators and mass murderers as I had hoped for. Also, he took too many people at too young an age. Hopefully, he will make an effort to be more considerate this year and aim for a higher number of people who actually deserve to die (i.e., bin Laden) and much less tragedy.
*No, it wasn't necessary to make that word up. But I did it anyhow.
December 26, 2003
The First Annual Peerless Prognosticator Contest for Humor and Accuracy
So I've decided to change the 2004 Prediction Contest (which needs a snappy new name) I had originally planned to something more like a free-for-all.
Gone are the fill in the blanks suggestions. The contest is now open to any and all predictions for 2004. The only rules are these:
- Each entry can contain as many or as few predictions as you wish. You can only enter once in each prize category (see below), so get it right the first time. There is no second time.
- Your entry must contain (but is not limited to) predictions in the following areas: Politics, sports, celebrity, entertainment and blogging.
- Points will be awarded for each prediction that comes true, but - because I can be as abritrary as I want to - points are also awarded for the amusement factor of your predictions.
- There will be two separate and as yet undetermined prizes; The Peerless Prognosticator Prize for accuracy and Silver Statue of Silliness (which will be neither silver nor a statue) for the most humorous entry.
- All entries must be in by midnight December 31, 2003.
- Entries can be submitted in the comments on this post or by email. Be sure to mark whether your entries are for the accuracy or humor contest. Or both, if you can pull that off.
- In the event I don't get enough entries, this post will self-destruct so I can pretend I didn't hold a contest that nobody entered.
A master list of all entries will go on a separate page so you can all keep track during the year. If you have any questions about the rather confusing rules (blogging under the influence of cold medication should be outlawed), don't hesitate to email me with your questions. Chances are that if you are confused, other people are as well.
Entries will be accepted now until midnight next Wednesday. I will post periodic updates as predictions come true during the year and I will keep a button on the sidebar that links to the master list. I'll also make contestant buttons as long as enough people enter.
Have fun with your entries and pass the word around.
[If you want to do predictions about the state of the world, without the humor or Paris Hilton predictions, there's always the Command Post contest]
so this was christmas
Christmas 2003, come and gone.
And now I sit here, surrounded by discarded wrapping paper, crushed up boxes and piles of presents that have to be put in their proper places. I have my annual Christmas sickness; this year it's laryngitis with what appears to be bronchitis, maybe even swollen glands. But I really don't mind being sick the day after Christmas. It gives me an excuse to just sit on the couch all day playing with my new toys.
This year it's the GameCube and I've got an extender for the controller so I can lay there all day, propped up with pillows and covered with a blanket and just hit those buttons and curse at the games. Just like the old days!
I miss the old controllers when your only choices were up, down, left, right, A and B. Now you have as many choices as a pilot looking at an instrument panel. If you want to use this weapon, hold down X while simultaneously pressing Y, using your pinky to quickly hit the Z switch. North, west, south west. I did that in my dream last night, leading Link around the bushes, killing spiders and other assorted pixelated creatures.
The son is in the other room playing Double Dash. By the end of the day, he will be complaining about a cramp in his hand. The daughter is on her GameCube, playing Super MonkeyBall2 (thank you Stacy and family, you made Christmas spectacular!) Is there not something creepy about a game in which you guide a monkey who is encased in a plastic ball through all kinds of mazes and games? In Monkey Billiards, the monkeys themselves are playing pool and they are cueing up and smashing their pool sticks against other monkeys in balls! Bizarre. Even more bizarre is the fact that when I turned off MonkeyBall last night (I couldn't play because I kept questioning how the monkeys could breathe in those balls) Bubble Boy was on one of the ten thousand cable channels. All I needed was the Simpsons episode where Bart is in that bubble and I would have had a bubble trifecta!
Anyhow. There are movies to be watched as well. I got Christmas Vacation and the Back to the Future boxset, Justin got Winged Migration and Ninja Scroll and Nick Cave's God is in the House DVD. Before all that, though, is my Very Special Present of the Aqua Teen Hunger Force and Space Ghost Coast to Coast DVDs. Before Link, before Sonic, I deal with Meatwad.
What else was there? CDs for the kids that I will probably borrow and CDs for me that the kids will probably borrow. My parents bought the son a new stereo for his room (I think it goes to 11) and thankfully, my parents are smart enough to have bought him headphones as well.
We've got books; The Art of Simon Bisley and the Zombie Survival Guide. We've got wonderful trinkets - Nightmare Before Christmas champagne glasses, jigsaw puzzles, Peet's Kona coffee, a new coffee grinder.
And we gave. We gave an awful lot, which is my favorite part of Christmas, depsite the cost and stress. I aim for the perfect presents for my family. I doubt they are ever perfect (everyone knows the perfect gift is either cash or a brand new car), but they are always well-received and bring smiles to faces and yes, Christmas is all about the smiles and sharing. I love my family, love them fiercely. I am of the firm belief that nobody has a better immediate family than I do. Make that extended family; Christmas Eve was our annual (started even before I was born) get together at the aunt's house, and there was the exchanging of gifts and eating of stuffed squid and the exuberance of all the kids. Lots of kids. So many kids. If I ever invite you to my aunt's for Christmas Eve, bring Excedrin.
December 25th may be gone, but Christmas is not. Not until we have opened and assembled the last present, not until we have tried out every single gift given us, even the clothes that don't fit and the games that look lame, not until we have stuffed our faces with leftovers for as many days as it takes to get rid of them, not until a drunken, rousing rendition of Christmastime in Hell with my sister, and not until New Year's Eve when we toast to my dad's birthday and the changing of the year, is Christmas really over. Even then, the spirit lingers a bit as we take our time dismantling the tree and get ready for the three events that mark the real end to our holiday season; the Super Bowl and both the son's and daughter's birthdays.
11 and 14. That's the ages they will be before the school winter break comes. They are mini adults. I think I'll take them to see Peter Pan this week to give them a gentle reminder: don't be in a hurry to grow up. In fact, don't ever grow up. Once you do, not only will Christmas lose its magic, but so will life in general.
Me? Nope, I haven't grown up yet and I guess at this point - 41 years down the road - I won't. And even if start to get old and crochety, if I start to ignore some of life's wonderful magic, there's always Christmas morning to bring back the twinkle in my eyes and the kid in my heart.
It's been a wonderful Christmas. It still is.
December 25, 2003
in which i assume the role of Link for the foreseeable future
I love my GameCube. You may never hear from me again. I'll be stuck in front of the tv, going through all the old Sonic and Zelda games. When I'm done with those I'll tackle all the new stuff.
Just wanted to drop in for a moment to say that Christmas is going swimmingly - the kids said it's been their best Christmas ever and it's been pretty swell for the husband and I as well (I even got a Christmas greeting from Mr. Lileks - though he does refer to me and several others as imaginary). Except for my laryngitis, which I suppose is a nice present for the rest of my family.
Hope you're all having a peaceful day. Now if only I could remember the exact path I used to take in Legend of Zelda.
December 24, 2003
christmas love
And I do love each and everyone one of you. In a strictly platonic way, of course.
No matter what kind of holiday you celebrate this time of year, I wish you a happy and healthy one.
Spreading Cheer
Greyhawk had a wonderful idea: Be the Bob Hope of the blogosphere. Visit blogging veterans to spread holiday greetings. There's a growing list here of links where you can go and leave comments on the blogs of soldiers. Great idea, Greyhawk.
Please don't forget about the Pizza for IDF fund. The link is right on the sidebar there. We've raised about $400 so far and will take donations up until midnight Thursday.
mind is gone
Rhymes so loud and proud you hear it
It's Christmas time and we got the spirit
Jack Frost chillin, the hawk is out
And that's what Christmas is all about
The time is now, the place is here
And the whole wide world is filled with cheer
*
You hear that? Cheer! Stop honking your damn horn. Stop pushing and shoving.
Cheer, damn you, cheer!
Well, I've got a recipe for a four-whiskey eggnog that will take care of everything.
Yea, I'm getting around to my Christmas wishes and my hearty Christmas message of peace and love and maybe a hidden message or two for those who deserve them.
DRINK YOUR OVALTINE!
Can I get some rum in that Ovaltine, please?
*Run DMC, duh
liner notes
Winds of Change hosts the Christmas edition of Carnival of the Vanities.
Happy Birthday, Mom. You're a pain in the ass but I love you anyhow.
24 hours until I get my GameCube.
Back with my Christmas message later.
December 23, 2003
george, adam and me
Yes, I'm still here. Thanks for the concerned emails but, no, I did not get arrested for beating up other shoppers at Target, nor did I finally have that nervous breakdown. Just very busy.
And I got a Christmas present for my blog:
It's official. This blog is officially voting for Bush next year. Unless, of course, something drastic happens, like we find out that all those people were right and he really is the anti-christ, and then it won't really matter who I vote for because we're all pretty much fucked, no?
Anyhow. Today is a little-known holiday. Back about five years ago, I was explaining the concept of Christmas Eve to the son. He thoughtfully rubbed his chin and said, hmmm...if Tuesday is Christmas Eve then Monday must be Christmas Adam!
And now, every December 2223 we celebrate Christmas Adam by going out for ribs.
So Happy Christmas Adam, everyone. Go offer your partner an apple and see what happens.
busy busy, repeat, busy
I start an eleven day vacation tomorrow. I need to get all this work out of here before 2pm on Wednesday and the office cleaned up so I can enjoy my vacation without work guilt hanging over my head.
Far be it from me to leave you without something, though. I'm just thoughtful like that.
This was originally posted at Raising Hell right after Christmas 2002. I think it might come in handy for some of you today.
Helpful Christmas Hints
Now that Christmas 2002 has come and gone, I would like to offer you some helpful hints that you may want to keep in mind for next year:
When your kids stop believing in Santa, you can still deflect the blame of bad or missing presents.
"Sorry kids. The economy sucks. If you don't like your presents, write a letter to your congressman."
"I didn't get you that Grand Theft Auto video game because Joe Lieberman says that video games rot your brain and make you crazy."
"Tipper Gore said I shouldn't buy you the Eminem CD. Take it up with her."
"I know you wanted the $100 Nike sneakers, but I didn't want to support child labor and sweatshops. Payless shoes are made in America, kids! Wear them with pride!"
Keep your expectations of your kids behavior on Christmas morning low. In fact, if you encourage the kind of behavior you pretty much figure will happen, you won't end up being disappointed.
"Ok, kids, it's 9am, time to argue about who got more presents. Natalie, you go first!"
"Don't forget to scowl when you open the hand knitted sweater from Aunt Rosie. She will be terribly disappointed if you actually pretend you like her gifts."
"Make sure you act jealous when your cousin opens his X-Box. In fact, stamp your feet and run out of the room just to heighten the dramatics."
Insist your kids get up at 4am, thus taking away the joy they derive from waking you at 5am.
"Do you think Santa flew all the way here and left these presents so you can sleep in like lazy bums? Get your asses up right now!"
Make sure to throw in a few gag gifts just so you have something to laugh about at 5am.
"Santa says brushing your teeth is an important part of your day. I knew you would love the economy pack of toothbrushes, then."
"I know you think a bucket of cleaning supplies isn't a great present, but I do think Santa is trying to send you a message."
"But I thought you still loved Barney!" (This gift should be saved for when your 12 year old child's friends are present.)
Ok, so Christmas did not go exactly like that at our house, though I harbored thoughts of implementing a few of the ideas.
Natalie and DJ no longer believe in Santa, but they still insist on leaving out a snack and a note for the jolly old man. This year, DJ fell asleep early, so Natalie put out a rather obnoxious note with the wine and cheese:
Dear Santa,
Leave presents...
Take the brother!
Santa left this note for her:
Dear Natalie,
I hope you like coal.
Santa
P.S. Your brother got more presents than you!
Hope your holidays were as fun as ours!
happiness is....
Having bosses who know that cash is the perfect holiday gift.