Category Archives: Politics

October 10, 2015 · 23:47

JPL Open House 2015

As much as I love seeing JPL, and as many totally uber-cool things will be there, and as many times as I’ve been in the past and taken my kids, particularly when they were much younger, I will not be there this year.

However…

So, in short, by 08:00 the 210 Freeway was backed up in both directions by folks waiting to get off.

The parking gates opened at 08:30 for a 9:00 opening to the Open House.

By 10:45 all parking was gone and the only way to get there was to park somewhere down the hill and walk up. (If you could get off the freeway to begin with.)

By 11:30 the site was filled to capacity and the gates closed, pending possibly being open later if enough people left to free up space.

At 12:17 the site was closed to all further arrivals for the rest of the day.

On Twitter there were people who were upset because they had waited for hours in traffic, only to be turned away. Some had come from out of town or even out of state. The only option for them is to be there really early tomorrow, because it’s expected to be as bad or worse on Sunday.

Please, please, please note – this is in NO WAY intended to be ANY kind of criticism of JPL. The staff and scientists and engineers of JPL walk on water in my view, and it’s incredible that they open up their doors every year for two days to let the general public in to see what they do and share the wonder of their discoveries and exploration.

My point is this:

Isn’t it funny that our Congress-critters believe that space exploration and science are a waste of our taxpayer dollars? Isn’t it amazing that they think that there isn’t any support by the general public for any of these programs?

It’s a good thing that we have our politicians spending more on corporate bailouts and farm subsidies every week than these “silly” and “unpopular” programs get in a year. If it weren’t for the politicians making sure that we spend tax money on their corporate donors and sycophants, we might actually do something stupid like spend on these science and space exploration boondoggles!

Ask any of the 100,000+ taxpayers who visited JPL today. Or any of the 100,000+ who will be there tomorrow. Or any of the tens of thousands who will get turned away each day.

If you get a chance to visit tomorrow, have a great time. We always have.

Then write to your Congress-critter and tell them about it.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Freakin' Idiots!, Politics, Space

April 2, 2015 · 23:59

Flash Fiction: Stream

Last week there was some considerable controversy in the publishing world that I lurk in when a new app called “CleanRead” came out. It’s now been pulled, in no small part because what it was doing was almost certainly illegal and a violation of copyright, but also in large part because of the backlash against it by authors, readers, and pretty much everyone who didn’t think that its (possibly) noble intent was in fact terribly off the rails and ill advised.

Our demighod Chuck Wendig was one of those objecting vociferously, so it’s only just that our weekly Flash Fiction Challenge is to write 2,000 or so words about filth. Sex. Profanity. Perversion. As well as the counterpoints of Censorship and Totalitarianism if you so wish.

As for me, as I’ve mentioned , March sort of clobbered me heavily about the head and shoulders, today hasn’t been any better (trying to finalize our income taxes), and it’s almost 2230 PDT. Chuck (or someone much like him) has said that when you’re exhausted, when the last thing you want to do is write, when you would do anything to just say “screw it!” and head for bed — then you must write.

But they didn’t say anything about editing, so fasten your seat belts, this could get interesting.

STREAM

“We can’t print this,” Carol said, tossing the manuscript back across the desk toward me. “You know that.”

“I know that you were going to say that,” I said, picking it up and tossing it back. “And once again I know that you’re wrong.”

Carol didn’t touch the document, just leaned back in her chair, tilted her head back, and reached up to start messaging the bridge of her nose.

“Laurie, we’ve had this discussion at least a dozen times before. If we print a book like this, we get shut down. If we get shut down, all of us lose our jobs. Some of us, such as you the writer and me the editor, would have a tough time ever getting another job in this field. We’ll end up washing dishes at McDonalds for minimum wage, which will lead to drinking heavily, which will lead to pot, cocaine, meth, and heroin, which will leave us dying alone and unloved in a seedy, filthy, and disgusting opium den in Chinatown. I hate washing dishes, so we are not going to publish this.”

“First of all, McDonalds doesn’t have dishwashers, everything’s served on paper and Styrofoam. Do a little fact checking. Secondly, we’re writers, we already drink heavily and make far less than minimum wage. It’s in the job description. Thirdly, it’s absolutely critical that these ideas be out there. If we let the Church ignore its own laws and go off shredding the Constitution at will just because the Synod orders them to, then the world will never know the truth about the prison we’ve allowed to be created around us.”

“We’re back to the Constitution, eh?” Carol asked. “Have you finally considered my suggestion to publish this as a poorly written and dull fantasy or science fiction tome?”

“Don’t start with me on that, you know better!” Laurie was having a tough time keeping her temper. She took a moment to take a breath and let her blood pressure and adrenaline levels drop a bit. “You’ve seen my research, you know how thorough it is. You’ve seen the original documents. I don’t understand how you can continue to deny what I’ve discovered.”

“I’ve seen your stuff, but I’ve also seen how it could all be fake. Extraordinary claims demand extraordinary proof. You don’t have it. Face it, if what you say is true, why hasn’t anyone anywhere ever found out about it before? Why do you think that you’re the only one given the True Word that proves everything we know to be wrong?”

“I’m not the first, I’m just the only one who hasn’t been caught before getting this far. I’ve told you about all of the people I’ve found evidence of who were following the same research before simply disappearing without a trace. That’s why I told you to keep this so secret!”

“Paranoia doesn’t become you,” Carol said. “You really want to stick by this story? You honestly want me to think the story you have here is history, not fantasy?”

“Yes, I do. It makes sense. The evidence is all there.”

“So the world used to be cooler and covered in a million times more plants than it is today?”

“Trillions, not millions, but yes. Then we fucked it up.”

Carol sat up straight and leaned across the desk, her gaze intense. “You will not use that kind of language in my presence! I for one have no intention of burning in hell for all of eternity because of you and your foolish obsessions! Is that clear?”

Laurie returned Carol’s glare with a look of pity. “Carol, use your head. Think. You’re not going to hell. Or heaven. All that they’ve taught all of us for our entire lives is a lie!”

“George Washington, a lie? Thomas Jefferson, a lie? The Founding Fathers? The Constitution? The very basis of our society, the foundation which has allowed us to survive on this harsh planet, all of that’s a lie?”

“No, there’s plenty of truth there. The lies are all based on truths. But at the core are fantastic lies, huge falsehoods that they have to keep covering up with even bigger lies and even more bullshit!”

“Laurie!”

“Call it whatever you want, but it’s all a lie! We didn’t come here from some other planet and get saved by the Founding Fathers who bestowed upon us their blessed Constitution, showing us how to create a society based on laws from the Bible!

“We have always lived here! The world was green and healthy and there were billions of people on it, not thousands! It wasn’t always hot and stormy and dusty, there were places where there would actually be ice falling from the sky! The Constitution was written by people about allowing the people to decide what was best for everyone, not an addendum to the Bible giving unlimited power to the Church!”

Laurie’s voice had risen to an alarming level. As she realized it and settled back in her chair, Carol sat calmly looking at her.

The door behind Laurie opened to allow two large, hooded figures to enter. Quickly they grabbed Laurie and tried to hold onto her as she started flailing.

“You bitch!” screamed Laurie. “Of all the people to betray me, you were the last one who would! How could you do this? You’re my sister!”

One of the hooded men finally got his hand over Laurie’s mouth to muffle her screams. In his hand was a small cloth soaked with something pungent. Whatever it was, Laurie went limp within seconds. The second man slipped a hood over her head and tied her wrists and ankles.

“You’ll take care of her, won’t you?” Carol asked. “She needs help, she’s not in her head at all.”

“We’ll take care of her,” a deep man’s voice said from under one of the hoods. “You won’t have to worry about her ever again.”

“Thank, God!” Carol said. “I just had to do it. I had to call you before she did something that would irreparably condemn her soul to hell. Didn’t I?”

“You did well,” the voice said. “Your reward will be found in Heaven, as the Constitution has promised.”

The man slipped Laurie over his shoulder and carried her limp body out. As the door closed behind them, Carol heard the bells start to ring and she started her evening prayers. As the Founding Fathers wished for her to.

Leave a comment

Filed under Politics, Religion, Science Fiction, Writing

February 16, 2015 · 23:38

Drones

The FAA has issued some preliminary outlines for regulations it wants to put on remote-control drones. Folks are starting to have all kinds of concerns over their use, whether or not they’re safe, what privacy concerns they may pose, and so on.

The short version is:

  • Daylight only
  • Must remain in sight of the operator
  • Max speed: 100 mph
  • Max altitude: 500 ft
  • Max weight: 55 pounds
  • Operators must be certified, at least 17 years old, pass periodic reviews to stay certified, and be vetted by the TSA

I’m sure there’s more to it, but let me share a few thoughts (in no particular order) given that initial information.

  1. There’s got to be a distinction between “hobby-class” drones and “military-class” drones. (I made up those labels, but I think you get the drift.) The rules for a 50 pound, $1,000 machine, bought through Amazon or at a R/C hobby shop, with 15-minutes of fuel don’t make sense to apply to a 5,000 pound, $17M+ machine, built for the military, with a 24-hour fuel load. (See my pictures of Ikahna from the NASA Social at Armstrong.)
  2. Having seen what NASA is working on at Armstrong in order to bring Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAV’s = drones) into the National Airspace System (NAS), there’s every expectation that large UAV’s will be integrated into the system within the next few years. It’s going to happen, it’s just a matter of when, not if.
  3. But it sounds like NASA’s getting ready for some version of  the “military-class” UAVs (possibly both military and civilian, i.e., commercial), not “hobby-class” drones. (I’m no expert by any means, but phrasing that way might be closer to the facts than what I’m seeing in the press about this.) If these new proposed regulations apply to the latter group, fine.
  4. These proposals are a start.
  5. Enforcement’s going to be a real bitch. These things can be small, zippy, and if you’re on the ground being bothered by one, there won’t be any good way to ID it. If you see a plane or helicopter going overhead, you can get the “N-number” to ID it, or at least describe it. A small drone at a couple hundred feet is going to be a dot. If you see it at all, you probably won’t even be able to tell if it’s got four or eight or sixteen rotors, if it’s got a camera, or what kind of other equipment. Unless you see someone launching and/or retrieving it, you’ll never know who it was.
  6. They need to put a 100% no-fly zone around any and all airports. Let’s say, two miles, or better yet, three. As a private pilot, I’ve landed at night in early July and had fireworks bursting all around me like I was on a bombing run deep in enemy territory. Not fun. I’ve also come way to close to sea gulls and other birds, which can leave you really dead in a small plane, or even in a large one. (Ask Captain Sullenberger.) Smacking into a 5-pound drone at 100 knots isn’t going to be any different from smacking into a pigeon or seagull. I doubt too many of the hobby-class drones will go up to 1,000 feet or more, but when you’re landing and at 500 feet on short final, a collision would be a disaster.
  7. While you’re at it, put no-fly zones around large sporting events and places like amusement parks. Get a couple dozen (or more) drones buzzing around over the Rose Bowl during the UCLA-USC game and then have a couple of them collide and come down in the crowd…
  8. What happens the first time that someone actually uses one to kill someone or cause a huge problem? For example, what if someone starts buzzing trucks on the freeway until they get one to swerve and crash, causing a multi-vehicle, multi-fatality accident that ties up the interstate for hours? What happens when someone (certified or not) flies up over a hostage situation or a major fire and gets tangled up with a police or news helicopter?
  9. There are already people loading good-sized hobby-class drones with drugs and flying them across the border from Mexico into the US. If the cops knew about it they couldn’t or didn’t stop it – it only hit the news when one crashed. Do they really think that the people doing that will pay attention to any new regulations?
  10. On the other hand, while everyone’s all up in arms about the possible problems with hobby-class drones, there are also some pretty neat things that can be done. From real-estate sales videos (something that they’re used for a lot here in LA already), photography for getting a new viewpoint or photographing an event such as a wedding, monitoring a disaster (I’m sure fire fighters on a large forest blaze would love to have fast, accurate aerial views), news reporting — there will be a million other good, legitimate, honest, incredibly useful applications.
  11. They’re a tool, just like any other. Used correctly and intelligently, they can do amazing things. Use stupidly and irresponsibly, they can be the cause of a disaster.

Pandora’s Box is open on this one. It’s going to be interesting, to say the least.

Leave a comment

Filed under Disasters, Flying, Politics

January 20, 2015 · 21:25

Hooray For Cat Hallucinations!

I’ve noted before (I used it as a starting plot point for the 2013 NaNoWriMo) that it’s freaky as all get out when a cat that’s resting comfortably and calmly on your lap suddenly bolts upright, ears twitching, eyes wide open, staring at something behind you that only it can see. It doesn’t help any when they spend the next five minutes with their eyes locked on whatever unseen horror it might be, their head swiveling as they follow their hallucination around the room, as if there’s some poltergeist or invisible zombie creeping up behind you.

When they start making that little chirping noise and twitching their butt like they’re getting ready to leap, and the idiot freakin’ raccoons on the roof choose that particular moment to run the 100-yard dash across the roof right above your head, it’s an invitation to a coronary.

On the other hand…

When you’ve spent the day dealing with people and situations that you swear are there just to see where your frustration breaking point is, then your nominal evening entertainment is all pre-empted by the State Of The Union address, and your substitute entertainment (social media) is saturated with bullshit from both sides on the aforementioned SOTU, and you’re just about to punch something just because, it can be a relief to have the sleeping cat freak out.

“Ignorance is bliss.” I’ve often thought it was nonsense to think that way. I always wanted to know and know more and to understand.

But in the case of both the political/social polarity/intolerance in our society and the invisible phantom haunting the room, I’m starting to place a higher value on ignorance.

In both cases, I don’t think there’s much I can do to change the situation, and being aware of it is just raising my blood pressure and making me feel bad. So while I’ve always hated being ignorant or uninformed, I think the argument could be made that I might be better off being blissfully ignorant.

Even if it does mean that I’m slightly less prepared to catch Ken Jenning’s record when I finally get on “Jeopardy!”

2 Comments

Filed under Cats, Critters, Death Of Common Sense, Freakin' Idiots!, Politics, Religion

November 24, 2014 · 22:07

Take A Breath, Don’t Make Things Worse

Lots of shit going on in the world recently. Ebola. Global Warming. Ferguson. Congress. Rape Culture. GamerGate. Bigotry. Hatred.

Makes the head swim. Makes you frustrated. Makes you angry. Makes you wonder what to do, ’cause we’ve gotta do SOMETHING, don’t we?

I remembered something I was taught when I was learning to fly. I heard it echoed a couple of times last week at the Armstrong NASA Social.

In all of these cases, the category was “EMERGENCY!!!” Bad things were happening in the plane. Fire. Pieces falling off. Out of control. Ground getting bigger real fast.

In every instance, the first rule, of course, is, “Don’t panic.” It’s not just a buzzline from Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy. In a “situation”, you might be close to dying. If you panic, the odds of dying approach 1.00 very quickly. Your odds might not be great, but they can only get worse if you panic.

Which leads to the second rule – “Don’t make it worse.” Like the Hippocratic Oath for pilots, it reminds us that there’s no situation that can’t be made worse. Maybe you can make it better, maybe you can’t. Buy you can always make it worse. Don’t do that.

To assist in executing Rule One and Rule Two, Rule Three is to, “Take a deep breath or five.” This might be more of a suggestion than a rule, since there might be times when the fire is in the cockpit NOW, or the mountain in front of you as you come out of the clouds is RIGHT THERE. But those are the exceptions. Most crises build and grow, a chain of errors, poor decisions, and bad luck.

So when you realize you’re at the end of such a chain and it’s about to be a “bad day,” take a couple of deep breaths, don’t panic, and don’t make the situation worse.

The suggestion I’ve heard for the next step, when you’re evaluating the danger in your situation, is to see if you’re in mortal danger this second. For example, following an earthquake, if you’re trapped under rubble and you smell gas leaking, you’re in deep guano right this second. But for the vast majority of us, even if you got banged up a little, you’re probably safe this second. There could be fires to come, aftershocks, further damage, lack of food & water for days, looting… But this second, you’re okay. You can plan from there to make sure you’re still safe in a minute, an hour, a day, a week.

Viewing heaping piles of the idiotic, insane, and vitriolic shit that seems to sometimes fill the news and FaceBook and Twitter and the conversation around the water cooler, it’s natural and easy to get angry, to want to react, to want to strike out, to want to do something now to change things. The topic doesn’t matter. Ebola, global warming, Ferguson, Congress, rape culture, GamerGate, bigotry, or hatred.

I’m not saying that there’s nothing we can do about these things, and I’m not saying that we shouldn’t take action to change these things. Quite the opposite.

But… Don’t panic. Don’t make it worse. Take a few deep breaths. See if you personally are in mortal danger at this second.

Then let’s figure out ways to make these things better. Hopefully we’ll make things better by working together, but we’ll do it one individual at a time if necessary. We’ll do it while remembering all of the really good things in the world that balance out some of the really terrible things. We’ll get there, but it’s a marathon, not a spring.

Don’t panic.

Don’t make it worse.

Take a few deep breaths.

3 Comments

Filed under Moral Outrage, Paul, Politics

November 4, 2014 · 21:17

We Voted Today

It’s all over (except maybe in Hawaii) and it will be what it will be. Not to be too much of a downer, but when Congress’ approval ratings are lower than the approval ratings for venereal diseases…

The worst thing is that they don’t care. They’ve passed laws that let billionaires and corporations make almost unlimited contributions, they can’t be voted out of office (take a look at the number of folks re-elected today who have recent felonies), and they don’t have to care. In addition, most of them give the appearance of having an IQ lower than their shoe size. Watch a hearing on one of the Science & Technology committees some day if you don’t believe me.

Which got me to thinking, as I often do on election day — when was the last time you voted for someone you REALLY LIKED?

Personally, I can’t remember an election in decades where every spot from dogcatcher to President wasn’t a choice between “really screwed up & pathetic” and “totally, completely, 100% unacceptable.” I have vague memories from the 1970’s, when I started voting, of occasionally being enthusiastic about some issue or candidate. For the last twenty or thirty years? Not so much.

The one candidate that has stood out for me was in the 2003 California gubernatorial recall election. If you managed to somehow miss this circus, the tl;dr version is that they recalled Gray Davis, which opened up the field to just about anyone to run — 135 people qualified for the ballot (not a typo – One Hundred Thrity-Five candidates!), including folks such as actor Gary Coleman and porn star Mary Carey. Nothing demonstrates what a joke it was better than the fact that Arnold Schwarzenegger won and was the governor for eight years. (Can’t make this crap up, no one would believe it.)

In that particular free for all, both I and The Long Suffering Wife ended up voting for Larry Flynt, the publisher of “Hustler” magazine. It wasn’t a joke or a protest vote — while we weren’t nuts about him, there were several points that we thought made him a better candidate than most of the other prominent candidates, especially Schwarzenegger.

First, Flynt’s a huge proponent of the First Amendment and protecting freedom of speech. That’s a hot button item for me and I like the way Flynt’s stood up for those rights.

Second, Flynt had for years run a large and successful company, making a lot of money over the years. He may have been the only person on the ballot who had ever actually been responsible for making payroll to keep his employees fed. Like his particular industry or publication or not, the man’s been successful.

Third, and most important, there was unlikely to be any dirt to be dredged up on Flynt. Considering his lifestyle and history, there wouldn’t be any smear campaigns against him based on skeletons in his closet. Flynt’s been bringing those skeletons out and putting them on display for everyone to see for decades. The rest of the field, however… Remember how Schwarzenegger got divorced just before he left office, and why?

So back to my original point  — when was the last time you voted for someone you REALLY LIKED? If the only time you can remember is when you voted for Larry Flynt for governor, but got Arnold Schwarzenegger instead, you might just have a bit of a structural problem in your democracy.

GOP? Democrat? Independent? Doesn’t matter. They’re all a bunch of FREAKIN’ IDIOTS!

I would absolutely love to be proven wrong by any of them. I won’t be holding my breath waiting for it to hapen.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Freakin' Idiots!, Politics

October 30, 2014 · 23:42

Flash Fiction: The People’s Plague

It’s All Hallow’s Eve Eve, so this week’s  Flash Fiction Challenge of course involves horror. Inspired by the fact that Ebola hysteria is running rampant through the mainstream media and the halls of government, our assignment is to write a horror story involving some sort of disease.

This might not have turned out as well as I wanted — too serious to be slapstick, trying too hard for a punchline to be horror. But the dozen political calls a day and hundreds of TV ads every day may be having an effect on my brain.

THE PEOPLE’S PLAGUE

“We have another one, ma’am. This report just came in from Phoenix.”

Doctor Helen Fletcher, the CDC’s lead investigator, looked at the window that popped up on her console, attached to a pin dropped on the map in Arizona. Ten cases already there, along with all of the other boxes and pins displayed all over the country. Thousands of cases nationwide and spreading like wildfire.

“We’re running out of time to get this under control,” she said to the row of faces shown in the small boxes lining the bottom of her computer screen.

“Doctor Fletcher,” the Midwest section head said, “it’s too early to even tell if it’s airborne or not. We’re going to need at least a couple of days to determine the distribution vector.”

“You do all realize this is an attack, not a disease, don’t you?” A new window had opened up, with the medical liaison to the FBI shown. “Look at the pattern that’s showing up. The first cases were seen in New York, Los Angeles, Washington, and Chicago, but now it’s popping up everywhere overnight. Boston, Atlanta, Denver, Indianapolis, now Phoenix. But also Trenton, Hartford, Nashville, Richmond. Can’t any of you see what that means?”

There was a pause while all of the medical experts tried looking at their data for a pattern they had missed so far. Most of them had been awake for the better part of seventy-two hours and were function solely on caffeine and adrenaline.

“What are we missing? I don’t see it,” Doctor Fletcher said. “It looks like it’s spread all over the country at random. They’re all metropolitan areas, but there’s no obvious vector based on wind, weather, animal population, food distribution, or transportation routes.”

“Another report coming in,” said the sergeant. “Juneau, eight cases suspected.”

“How in hell did it jump so fast to Alaska?” asked the CDC director for the Pacific Northwest. “That can’t be natural, it’s got to be based on travel, some agent introduced into the air transportation fleet somehow, or…”

“Stop it!” shouted the FBI agent. “Did any of you study anything other than biology in high school?”

“State capitals,” said the CDC Southwest director. “With the exception of New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles, they’re all state capitals.”

“Exactly,” said the FBI agent. “This is an attack on the government of the United States. I’m going to be briefing the President on this in ten minutes. What else can I tell him?”

“If it’s an attack on the government with a biological agent,” asked Southwest, “wouldn’t it be aimed at the people who run the government, the politicians themselves and their staffs? Do any of the infected fit that profile?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” said Doctor Fletcher, “we certainly would have heard if any of the infected were governors, Senators, or Members of Congress.” She gestured to one of her aides hovering behind her. “Start checking on who the infected people are, what they do, where they work.”

A new window opened up on the conference call screen, showing columns of data including names, location, age, sex, religion, and occupation. Data fields started to populate the chart, seemingly at random.

“Lawyers, advertising, film editors, clerical workers, computer programmers, graphic designers, sound engineers, CPAs – it seems random.”

“Wait, it’s not what we see, it’s what we don’t see,” said the FBI agent. “There aren’t any housewives, any unemployed, any students, or any children. I want to see something. Can you show just the people in the cities that are not state capitals, and also show the company they work for?”

The data once again shifted and shuffled and finally pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. The data for the infected patients began to clump into groups with multiple data records showing people working together at the same companies.

“Does anyone recognize any of these companies?” asked the FBI agent. “Can we see a couple of their web pages real quickly?” The new windows popped open. “See, they’re all related to advertising in some way. Most are ad agencies or production companies for television or radio. A few are printers. Now, let’s look at a couple of the state capitals.”

The data set expanded, to include the infected patient data for five of the smaller cities.

“There’s your link. It’s an election year. I’ll bet when we dig deeper, every one of these people is involved in some way with a political campaign.”

“Doctor Fletcher,” said Mid-Atlantic, “we’re just getting word from Annapolis and Richmond that new cases include a couple of state politicians and candidates.”

“Same here,” said Northwest. “We’re taking a closer look at the data for patients in Salem and Boise, and some of them are state legislators.”

“Okay, I’m going to go brief the President,” said the FBI agent. “Am I correct that so far there have been no fatalities or permanent disabilities?”

“You are correct, no fatalities,” said Doctor Fletcher. “It’s too early to tell about long term disabilities, and given this new information, we might have to reassess how we use that term.”

“Please clarify that for me and do it quickly, the President’s waiting.”

“The symptoms we’ve been concentrating on were the fever, dehydration, convulsions, and unexplained breathing difficulties. But there have been other symptoms reported which we’ve discounted, assuming they were side effects of the fever, perhaps delusions or hallucinations. We need to reevaluate that.”

“Why?”

“We’ve had reports the convulsions and breathing difficulties were experienced specifically when people tried to lie. The more egregious the lie, the more severe the symptoms appear to be.”

“You don’t mean…”

“Yes, I do. This might be an engineered virus which forces the victims to tell the truth or suffer horribly. And it’s targeting politicians.”

There was stunned silence across the conference call.

“Alright, I’ve got to go,” said the FBI agent. “I’ll get people at my end started on tracking down the terrorist monsters that might have done this.”

“’Monsters’? Don’t you mean ‘geniuses’?” Doctor Fletcher muttered under her breath.

“Say again, Doctor?”

“Nothing. We’re on it.”

3 Comments

Filed under Disasters, Health, Politics, Science Fiction, Writing

August 29, 2014 · 12:51

Tin Foil Hats At The Ready!

Watch out today, at least in Los Angeles. I don’t know if it’s something in the air, something in the water, a change in the solar neutrino flux, or a variation in tachyons arriving from the galactic core, but it’s time to put on your tin foil hats!

I had a few errands to run this morning, no biggie. Post office. Bank. Restock the pet food larder. Maybe go pick up the new John Scalzi book and/or the new Richard Kadrey book and/or the new Brad Paisley album. No biggie.

It started at the post office. There were a few cars in line for the drive-through mail drop and something was making the line go slow. I finally saw that there was a booth set up on the sidewalk. A couple of people from the booth were trying to talk to the drivers as cars left the mailbox and waited to exit onto the street. When it was my turn, I saw that it was a fanatical group trying to rally support to impeach Obama.

While the opportunities for entertainment were clear, so were the opportunities to raise my blood pressure.

First off, I’m a huge fan of the First Amendment, even when it means that we have to give assholes and subhumans like the Westboro Baptist Church the right to picket funerals. I despise people like that with the fiery passion of a thousand suns, but I understand that if I want those rights for me and people who agree with me, I also have to allow those rights to people I detest.

Secondly, I try real hard to be tolerant and give everyone a chance, maybe two. (It’s my Catholic school education, I’m sure.) However, after that point, my tolerance level drops off pretty fast. People who insist on demonstrating repeatedly that they’re delusional, anti-social, ignorant, or psychotic are fools who no longer deserve to be suffered gladly. The screaming folks with the big posters of Obama made to look like Hitler? They might have at least one strike against them to start with.

This guy wanted to shove propaganda flyers into my face before I could get the window rolled up after dropping off my mail — I declined to accept. (Strike one.) This dude looking like a poster child for a white supremacy group screamed at me, asking if I knew we were all doomed if Obama wasn’t “stopped” — I ignored him. (Strike two.) He then asked if I had ever considered the “evidence” that Obama was a fascist, socialist, Nazi dictator…

In my defense, the street was full of cars in front of me and I couldn’t go anywhere anyway.

I asked him if he knew the difference between fascists, socialists, and Nazis, since they were all different and in many respects had opposing policies and viewpoints and hated each other.

He pointed at the Hitler mustache on the poster and told me that Obama was just like Hitler! I told him that I didn’t know that Hitler’s mustache made him evil, I had always thought that it was senseless slaughter of millions of innocent people.

He told me that when I looked in the mirror I would see that mustache on myself and know that I was a Nazi too. I told him when he looked in the mirror he would see a psychotic idiot in desperate need of some serious mental help.

He started listing the conspiracies all around us regarding AIDS and 9-11 and global warming and the United Nations, saying that if we ignored the danger we would all be locked up in gulags. I pointed out that if Obama was really a dictator, nut jobs like him wouldn’t be sitting on the sidewalk ranting. He and his friends would be dead and no one would ever find the bodies, so ipso facto, Obama wasn’t a dictator.

I may have been using intellectual arguments above his weight class.

Traffic was clearing and I started to move. As I did so, I saw the poster on the front side of the fold-up table they had. It was urging people to impeach that Nazi-socialist-communist-fascist-dictator Obama and join Lyndon LaRouche in saving the country. His obvious problems with reality made so much more sense now! I told my delusional friend that he needed to find a better cult to join next time. I suggested one with lots of sex and drugs might be more to his liking. He called me a Nazi again, we flipped each other off, and I left.

You don’t see that every day in the San Fernando Valley!

Nor do you normally see folks jogging in 95° heat while wearing full, black sweat suits, including full-length sweatpants and a hoodie pulled up over their head. Yes, you see folks jogging. Yes, you even see a few of them out jogging in 95° weather. But I’ve never seen anyone dressed like it’s 35° when it’s 95° and running at a good pace to boot. It looked like a good way to either wake up in intensive care needing multiple organ transplants or to simply wake up dead. Good luck, guys, you’re going to need it. Stay hydrated!

Then, for a more common bizarre circumstance for LA, there was apparently a huge accident on the freeway. The westbound freeway was gridlocked. Grid. Locked.

I didn’t know until I got within a block or so of the onramp. Then I could see that traffic wasn’t moving at all, dead stop, so I decided to stay off the freeway and get to the book store on surface streets. Unfortunately, the freeway backup apparently had been there for a while, had multiple lanes blocked, and the gridlock went back at least six or seven miles, so a few hundred thousand of my close, personal friends had decided to use that street as an alternate route.

No one was moving. Period.

But a significant number were driving like freakin’ idiots. (Big surprise, I know, right?) People cutting into shopping center parking lots, going 100 yards, then trying to cut back out into traffic in order to pass ten or twelve cars. People doing U-turns across the center divider islands into gridlocked traffic coming the other way. People ignoring the traffic control cops who were trying to keep some semblance of order at the bigger interchanges, and getting away with it because there was no way to stop and/or cite them.

After about fifteen minutes I made it a half mile and was able to turn away from it all onto a side street and escape. (Knowing the local topography intimately is a huge help in such circumstances — I recommend running to get to know all of the side streets on a first name basis.)

As I bailed on the book store errand and got back towards home, I went by the post office and saw our favorite neighborhood whackjobs still out there harassing postal patrons. I thought briefly of letting them know about the massive gridlock a couple miles away. Down there were thousands and thousands of helpless motorists who would have no opportunity at all to get away from their delusional diatribes. It would be like shooting ducks in a barrel!

The word “shooting” triggered the realization that many of those frustrated, pissed-off, short-tempered motorists might well be armed. As entertaining as it was to think of these deluded dimwits being shot at, I decided to leave well enough alone.

Instead I’m at home, making more tin foil hats and tin foil liners for my athletic supporter cups. It might be a long weekend in LA.

I think it’s the neutrinos.

10 Comments

Filed under Farce, Freakin' Idiots!, Los Angeles, Politics, Running

July 20, 2014 · 13:00

Tonight, What If EVERYBODY…

July 20th

If you’ve read more than one or two of my rants here, you know what it’s the anniversary (45th) of. Last year I described where I was on that momentous day. Earlier this month I talked about why I love NASA so much, despite some of the recent political and bureaucratic decisions that have frustrated me.

I don’t know if the social media universe (Twitter, FaceBook, and so on) are actually making a big deal of the anniversary or if it’s just my timelines/feed/slice that is. Since I follow a lot of NASA, space, science, and science fiction folks, there very well could be a huge selection effect going on here.

(For the record, looking at Twitter’s worldwide, US, and Los Angeles trends, the two I see trending across the board are James Garner’s death and “Happy National Ice Cream Day”, but there’s no sign of anything related to NASA or Apollo 11. FaceBook shows Gaza, James Garner, Malaysia Airlines Flight 17, the Open Championship, and Buzz Aldrin all trending. Finally, even if we do have to go to the “See More” button to find something.)

Within my social media feeds it’s about 75/25 between the, “Wow, wasn’t that fantastic & here’s where I was & it changed my life” comments and the, “WTF happened, why aren’t we living on the moon & walking around on Mars & heading toward the outer planets & mining asteroids & & & & &…” comments.

Jim Wright’s essay is spectacular (as they all are) and highly recommended. The best comment I’ve seen there (“Stonekettle Station,” John Scalzi’s “Whatever,” and Chuck Wendig’s “terribleminds” are the only three places where I dare to read the comments) is attributed to Andy Borowitz and says, “1969: America winning space race with the Russians. 2014: America keeping up with the Kardashians.” That’s far more true than I’m happy with.

But we can and should remember well what was accomplished on July 20, 1969, if for no other reason than to inspire us to yet again redouble our efforts to take the next small steps and giant leaps ahead. And it’s about time (literally) to do that.

It’s 13:00 PDT here in Los Angeles right now. Forty-five years ago, at 13:18 PT, Apollo 11 landed on the moon. At 17:56 PT, the first moonwalk began.

This evening, starting at 19:39 PDT (22:39 PDT) NASA-TV will show that original moonwalk telecast will be shown in its entirety just as it did forty-five years ago. Your cable or satellite company does (or should!) carry NASA-TV, or you can watch it here online.

At the conclusion of Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant” he asks the rhetorical question about what would happen if  one person a day, two people a day, three people a day, or fifty people a day would go to their draft board singing “Alice’s Restaurant.” Would they see it as a movement, or more bluntly, would any of the powers-that-be know or care?”

I don’t know if the Nielsen ratings system and software are even aware of NASA-TV’s existence. But I wonder…

Tonight, what if EVERYBODY watched the Apollo 11 replay? What if tonight, instead of getting two to three million viewers each, “60 Minutes,” “Big Brother,” “Rising Star,” “American Ninja Warrior,” and “The Simpsons” each got a few thousand viewers at most, while ten or twenty million televisions were tuned to NASA-TV all night watching a forty-five year old rerun?

Would that get anyone’s attention come tomorrow morning? Would that keep anyone’s attention through the next news cycle, or through the next election?

Wouldn’t it be really bitchin’ to find out?

I understand that it won’t happen tonight. But the fiftieth anniversary is five years away. That will be more of an attention getter than the forty-fifth anniversaryWith a little bit of planning and some grass-roots activism…

Spread the word. 1,827 days to go.

3 Comments

Filed under Moral Outrage, Politics, Space

July 10, 2014 · 23:04

Flash Fiction: Board Room

This week’s Flash Fiction Challenge — is a repeat, because for the life of me, I can’t see where Chuck Wendig posted a blog entry or tweet with any mention of a contest this week. Okay, so the man’s entitled to take a week off. But I’m on a writing “mission from god”, so I picked a previous Challenge (this one from late April) and rolled the hypothetical, fifty-sided dice to get a 46, which gives me the character of  “the brutal businessperson.”

It turned out a little bit preachy, which I blame on flipping by “The Devil’s Advocate” on cable earlier today. This story was an interesting, dialogue-based scene to write as an exercise. As always, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated.

BOARD ROOM

“I have to recommend against building this project,” Carson said. “The possible consequences could be catastrophic.”

There was silence in the board room as all eyes turned to the end of the table. The CEO did not appear to be bothered by the comment, but everyone knew that looks could be deceiving.

“What consequences, Carson? Every relevant department has concluded that this will be an enormously profitable venture.”

“I have no doubt that it will make money, sir. But I would bring your attention again to the report from our environmental consultant.”

The Chief Legal Officer turned his head slightly, not looking directly at Carson, turning only the minimal amount necessary to acknowledge his existence. “The EPA has already signed off on this project, Carson. You should know that.”

“Jason, I’m aware that the EPA has given the green light to this project. I’m also aware of how that approval was obtained, as is everyone else in this room.”

“Would you care to be more clear, Carson? I believe we’ve only followed our standard operating procedures.”

“I’m referring to the way the EPA was given only select parts of a highly edited report from our consultants, while both EPA personnel and our consultants were paid handsomely to ignore the discrepancies between the early versions and the final submission.”

“Is there any truth to that accusation, Jason?” asked the CEO.

“Sir, the EPA approved our final petition based on the information given to them by our consultants. The consultants were well paid by us. The information that was given to the EPA by our consultants and their testimony under oath at the EPA hearings were completely out of our control. If some of the senior EPA staff who recommended approval have careers with our consultant’s firm after they complete their careers at the EPA, that would not be unusual, nor would it be anything that we have any say in. It’s all completely legal and a normal state of affairs, as you know.”

“I understand, Jason. Christine, would you please remind Carson of the predicted financial return on this project?”

The CFO didn’t even need to look at her notes. “We estimate a minimum annual ROI of 25% beginning two years after construction, increasing to 40% or more by year ten. Our projected annual net profits over the first ten years are over one trillion dollars.”

The CEO turned back to Carson. “If we’re going to make that kind of return and nothing illegal is being done, what objections can you still have about this project?”

“Sir, the original environmental assessment, before Jason and his staff had it changed, warned that the drilling operations, refining facilities, and pipeline construction could have serious environmental side effects, particularly in terms of damage and accelerated melting of the permafrost across a region of hundreds of thousands of square miles.”

“Which is why we made engineering changes to allow for any civil engineering issues that might arise, which in turn led to changes in the final environmental report. The chances of an oil spill are infinitesimal.”

“Yes, sir, the odds of an oil spill are no more than one in fifty for any given year, and our engineering plan does allow for structural integrity of our facilities even in the event of changes in the permafrost. But that’s not the problem. There is a high probability that our facilities could cause massive melting of the permafrost, which will release trillions of tons of methane and carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. The environmental damage of a major oil spill is nothing compared to that. Methane is a greenhouse gas that’s even more dangerous than carbon dioxide in its effect on climate change. Melting of the permafrost at an accelerated rate like this could result in an accelerated rate of global temperature increase that will be impossible to reverse.”

The CEO’s stare had gotten steadily more intense as Carson had continued to speak. “I’m disappointed by your sudden passion for this fear-mongering and nonsense from the liberal press, Carson. This company’s position of so-called ‘global warming’ is quite clear, as are the multiple studies we have funded proving it false.”

“Sir, you and this board have surrounded yourselves with sycophants and yes-men who have told you whatever you wanted to hear for decades. The truth is that proceeding with this project will likely bring catastrophic climate change, not in two hundred years or a hundred years, but in as little as fifteen or twenty years. In your lifetime, the entire world economy will collapse as a billion or more people become homeless and start to starve. There will be wars, there will be famine, there could be the end of our civilization as we know it. You will not be earning hundreds of billions a dollars a year when the world collapses into chaos.”

The ticking of the clock on the fireplace mantle in the conference room was the only sound for long seconds.

“You are dismissed,” the CEO finally said.

“Sir, the facts will not change just because you choose not to believe them.”

“Carson, you may leave voluntarily or you may be removed from this meeting. I will speak with you privately later.”

“I’ll leave, but this needs to be said now and said to all of you. This project will be the tipping point that pushes the entire planet over into a runaway greenhouse. You personally are taking actions that will destroy five thousand years of human civilization. I hope that you all live to see the day you realize what you’ve done, and remember you had the power to stop it, but chose not to. As for you, sir, I hope you will live to see how the lives of your family, of your children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren are destroyed by your actions.” Carson turned on his heel and left the meeting room, cold silence a wall behind him.

Everyone waited for the CEO to proceed. After a moment of staring absently down at the documents on the desk in front of him, he raised his head and looked around the room.

“I apologize for my son’s unreasonable outburst. Now, let’s proceed. When do we begin construction?”

1 Comment

Filed under Disasters, Freakin' Idiots!, Moral Outrage, Politics, Writing