The Moon By 2020

Image taken from The Google Lunar X-Prize homepage.

Here's a bit of old news, but interesting nonetheless: NASA intends to put humans on the moon by 2020. Another take on that bit of news is here.

Not to be outdone, the Russians announced that they would be mining the moon by 2020. It seems Helium-3 is plentiful in lunar soil.

Similarly, the Chinese said that they would like to have one of their citizens on the moon by --you guessed it-- 2020.

All this is quite odd, considering that when I was a kid, 2020 was a time when the moon should be old news. Take this perspective from 1979, which predicted that 2020 would see the first lunar Olympics!

It's all quite remarkable. Manned spaceflight began in 1961, and culminated with the "giant leap for mankind" in 1969. That's it: one decade of Mercury, Gemini, Apollo and Soyuz flights. The 1970s gave us a handful of additional moonshots and the first stabs at a space station. The Shuttle era has given us many low Earth orbit missions and a real space station. But that's it.

See, for those of us who came of age in the Apollo era, there was supposed to be so much more. As a species, we went from monkeys in space to men on the moon in less than a decade. Forty years later, we haven't even been back to the moon. And now we plan on making it back there by 2020, a good 51 years since we first arrived.

As the 1979 article affirms, we kids of the 1970s had every rational expectation of a manned mission to Mars by the 1980s, bases in orbit and on the moon by the turn of the century, and permanent settlements on the moon, Mars and beyond by 2020. Instead, we have a not insignificant proportion of people who actually believe the moon shots never took place-- that's how divorced people have become from the glory days of humankind's greatest adventure.

So what went wrong? In a word, economics. The flush economics of the 1960s gave way to the fake energy crisis of the 1970s and a real political crisis as the Cold War stopped being a viable excuse for any extraordinary public expenditure. Futurists in the 1940s, 50s and 60s predicted that the moon landings would take place sometime in the 1970s. It was the singular will of JFK that forced NASA to make it priority #1. While achieving an incredible feat by putting Armstrong in the Sea of Tranquility before the end of 1969, NASA nonetheless shot themselves in the foot by not creating an economically robust institution capable of spinning success into further cost effectiveness. The result was an institutional distaste for large, flashy and expensive technological displays.

In some ways, the 2020 mission plans are the way things should have been done in the first place. Had international cooperation replaced Kennedy's Cold War enthusiasm, a more economical path would have seen larger, more sustained and expandable missions to the moon, probably beginning in the late 1970s. The advantages sown are the same ones only now being considered: real public-private partnerships (instead of pork barrel contracts), using mature computer and materials technologies, and sharing the cost across sectors and even nations.

Most importantly, what was needed was a long term strategy that transcended the need to simply beat the Soviets to the moon. We sort of have that now, with all three manned spacefaring nations proposing plans for long term bases and industrial exploitation of lunar resources.

It's a shame that I'll be 53 in 2020: probably too old to qualify for a moon mission. I'm a little bitter that history did not unfold the way we were promised it would, with we middle aged fogies taking our kids and grandkids to the Tharsis plateau, Olympus Mons and the Sea of Storms for summer vacation.

Then again, with fuel prices being what they are, we'll be lucky to be able to take our kids to Niagara Falls in a few years!

Vista Sucks. Yeah, I said it.

What a nightmare. I finally took the plunge I've been threatening for some time. This weekend in New York, I deleted my laptop's operating system (Windows XP) and installed Ubuntu. Well... it didn't work all that well.

No problem, I said to myself. When I get back to Ottawa, I'll just install something else. After all, this is my backup computer and I don't really need it. I have a monster CPU humming away in my apartment that can satisfy all my needs.

Well, I returned Ottawa. As soon as the plane landed, I used my PDA to check my email. It promptly crashed. No problem, I said to myself. When I get to my apartment, I'll use my main machine to backup my PDA.

Well, I got home. Guess what? MicroSoft Vista on my main machine has been crashing every 5 minutes. I can do NOTHING with it. Meanwhile, I tried to install Kubuntu on my backup machine. It works better --in fact, it's lightning fast-- but I can't get the wireless to work, and it's not worth my time to download drivers at work, burn them to CD, then try to install them at home. I ain't got the time!

Miraculously, my PDA fixed itself. So this is where I stand: the only working machine I own that has the power and apps to help me do all my work is my tiny Treo 680. My main machine is infected with the virus I call Vista. My backup machine is useless with an unproductive version of Kubuntu. So I will be investing the remainder of this day re-installing XP... potentially on ALL of my machines.

There you have it.

Geek Out

Last few hours in New York, and I still don't have internet access! (I'm
blogging on my phone via the email portal.) So if anyone has left any
comments here, I won't be able to moderate them till late tonight.

I spent yesterday afternoon at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is a
stunning collection of items, ruined by the enormous crowds and (typical
for New York) rude staff. My favourite part was the Rex Harrison
retrospective, featuring several of his movies, including Noel Coward's
"Blythe Spirit" (which I first saw as a Broadway play exactly 20 years ago,
starring Richard Chamberlain) and "Anna and the King of Siam", based on one
of my favourite books.

While at the Met I chanced to see something remarkable: a tour through the
Egyptian antiquities for BLIND people. And that got my brain started.
Stay tuned for further developments.

Last night I hung out with my cousins. We ended up lining up for a club
called the Beauty Bar, whereupon I disocovered that I had no ID-- and
apparently ID is mandatory in New York clubs, even for old men like me.

So this, my friends, is where being a geek came in handy. The bouncer, a
burly, bearded black man, demanded of the crowd, "Who's got science trivia?"

Of course, I jumped to the challenge. For the next 10 minutes, the two of
us exchanged science questions, after which he said, "You, sir, have an
impressive knowledge of science which, I presume, took you at least 21
years to acquire. So you may go in."

How's that for an ad for postgraduate education? For the curious, here are
the questions we exchanged:

1. Name the moons of Mars. (Phobos and Deimos).

2. What do they mean? (Fear and destruction).

3. What is the biggest volcano in the solar system? (Olympus Mons on the
Tharsis plateau on Mars).

4. What is the only planet in our solar system whose axis of rotation is
not perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic? (Uranus).

5. What mathematical law supposedly predicts the distances from the sun of
each planet and the asteroid beltn (Boyd-Titius law).

6. Name the three closest star systems to our sun. (Proxima/Alpha
Centauri, Barnard's Star, Wolf 359).

7. Name the four fundamental forces of the universe. (Gravity,
electromagnetism, strong and weak nuclear).

8. What is the multiplicative factor in the formula for computing time
dilation? (1-sqr((v*v/c*c))).

9. Name Neptune's moon. (Triton).

10. Who first proposed the principle of relativity? (Galileo).

So remember, kids: study your science trivia, because it might just help
your social life.

Lennon's On Sale Again

There's a line in the classic David Bowie song, "Life On Mars" (which I
blogged about not so long ago) that has been a point of contention among
Bowie fans for years: "The workers have struck for fame, 'cause Lenin's on
sale again."

Now, it has always struck me as fairly obvious that if one is talking about
"workers", then one must surely be referencing V.I. Lenin, founder of the
Soviet republic. But there are some, perhaps historically impaired
individuals, who insist that the line is "LENNON'S on sale again".

Well, maybe Bowie was being cute. Sort of like me spelling the Stallone
hero as "Rimbaud" instead of "Rambo".

Why do I bring this up? No reason, except that I'm presently sitting
across from the very spot where John Lennon was killed in 1980.

Once again, all my plans in the Big City have been cancelled, and I have no
internet access (except for my phone). So I'm killing time blogging by
email while sweating under the oppressive New York summer sun.

Two observations abot Manhattan television:

1. Every other commercial appears to be about birth control pills.

2. For the media capital of the world, local New York programming is
scarily amateurish.

All right. Off to ogle girls in the park.

Scuzzhattan

Greetings, my droogies. I write to you now via the blogger email portal,
on my trusty Treo 680. I'm lying in a terribly scuzzy (and yet still
pricey) Manhattan Day's Inn. You know the type: stains on the wall, odd
characters in the hallway and the ubiquitous stink of pesticide.

There's no internet access here, so those of you who have been fiercely
facebooking me will have to wait for your responses.

One of the joys of Manhattan is the plentiful food. Tonight I opted to
avoid the many pizza choices and instead bought a $6 salad from the grocery
store along with a $4 tank of iced green tea. If I'm going to suck back
insecticide, I may as well not compound matters by eating crap.

What to do tonight? Well, where better to start writing my next book than
in a stank hotel room in Manhattan?

Gore 2009

Regular Deonandian reader Mischa sent me an email with the subject header: "It's over". Its content was a link to this article stating that Al Gore had endorsed Barack Obama. On the face of it, it does seem that my 7 year old prediction of a President Gore in 2009 may not come true.

Well, in the interests of pulling on every thread, however improbable, to make myself seem prescient, I present the following scenario. Already, many are calling for Obama to name Al Gore as his running mate. This would be pretty weird, especially since Gore would overshadow Obama. It would be doubly weird since there's also a rumour that John McCain may choose Joseph Lieberman as his running mate! Those of you not brain dead will recall that the 2000 Democratic ticket was Gore-Lieberman.

Well, if Obama does choose Gore, then there's a good chance they will win. And as discussed earlier, Obama may not live to attend his own swearing-in ceremony. Where does that leave us, legally and constitutionally? With a President Gore in 2009.

Of course it won't happen. But I'm morally obligated to present the possibility.

What Am I Talking About Now? I Have No Idea.

Don't mean to scare you, but if you are a patron of phone sex lines, you might want to see what the operators really look like.

On to the links:

The Other Ray sends us these fantastic photos from outer space.

Spidey Patel sends us this site, where you can enter your salary and determine where you stand in the world's income hierarchy.

And Brother Bhash sends us a story that I have a hard time rationalizing: porn makers going after online pirates. As a champion of both the right of a population to make and view pornography, and of the right of a population to access so-called "pirated" materials, I'm afraid I'm conflicted about what to feel. I err on the side of so-called piracy. I am in no way advocating the breaking of any laws wherever you might live, but I do believe that so-called "intellectual property" is quite unlike other kinds of property in that viewing or accessing it in no way damages or alters it, or denies its creator credit for having made it. If someone steals a photo and shows it to me, I have not broken any legal or ethical rules by looking at it.

It's a strange time for the definition of "freedom". Recently there was news that the York University student union tried to ban "anti-abortion" groups on campus. This is simply outrageous to me. While I am ardently pro-choice, that includes the promoting the choice to espouse anti-abortion opinions. This sort of nonsense gives "progressive" a bad name.

I'll be trying some new things with this blog in coming days. So look carefully for the changes, and feel free to leave me feedback on what you like and dislike.

Lastly, if you live in Toronto, don't forget to come out to the Luminat'eau events this weekend at Harbourfront. Most of the activities are free and kid friendly. Yours truly will be there, possiby introducing some of the acts and doing some emceeing. OR maybe just hanging about and trying to look cool. Check out the list of activities here: www.harbourfrontcentre.com/luminateau


Over and out.

The Apology

Just received my student evaluations for the international health class I taught this past year. My favourite written comment: "Are you single?" My second favourite: "We need more lame jokes and arm flailing."

The Other Ray sends us this alternative view of Paris: a handful of fuckwads doing pull-ups from a crane dangling from the top of a skyscraper. Well, we assume it's Paris. Could be Montreal for all I can tell. My one response: my testicles refuse to emerge from my torso, they're so scared right now.

Cousin Ajay sends us this great screen capture from an Evangelical fundraiser. The follow-up image is here.

Meanwhile, here's evidence that Darth Cheney blocked the possibility of talks with Iran. See, for the neocons, the only option for every "crisis", real or imaginary, is so-called regime change.

In light of an all-but-ignored Senate Intelligence Committee report that concluded that BushCo essentially lied their way into Iraq, comes pleasing news that Dennis Kucinich is forcing a vote on the impeachment of George W. Bush. About bloody time, if you ask me. If a President can be impeached for lying about a blow job, he can damn well be impeached for lying his way into mass murder.

Now on to today's real topic...

Today, Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper will issue a formal apology on behalf of the federal government and all Canadians to those Aboriginals who attended the state-run "residential school" system, which resulted in unimaginable abuse.

The blogosphere is abuzz with this story, since it's a wedge issue for many. Those on the Left praise the move but are suspicious, since an apology made by the man whose government is openly hostile to Aboriginal health and welfare seems quite shallow. In the words of Jessica Yee:

"While it is good to see the government showing some sort of accountability to the extreme genocide they have inflicted on Aboriginal peoples, I have to wonder if Harper even really knows what he's apologizing for.

Because his government has, so far:

• Refused to sign the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, making Canada an international human rights laughing stock.
• Cut the Status of Women, which included major funding losses for the Sisters in Spirit Initiative that advocated for victims of violence at the Native Women's Association of Canada, their largest contribution agreement.

• Thrown out the Kelowna Accord, which, say what you will about it, was the first time the government actually asked Aboriginal people to be at the same table and collectively make decisions for ourselves.

• Done nothing to help our people protect our own land and has silently watched our leaders be thrown in jail, from the KI Six in Northern Ontario to Mohawk territory to the tar sands in Alberta, etc. Twenty per cent of inmates in Canada are Aboriginal, while we only make up roughly three per cent of the population.

And the list goes on..."

Those on the Right object to the apology for a number of reasons, among them that the Aboriginals already benefit (unfairly in the Rightists' eyes) from Canadian taxpayers' benevolence; and also that "we", as in the current generation of non-Aboriginals, didn't put them in the Residential schools, so why should "we" have to apologize?

In the words of my Internet friend Rondi: "First of all, I don't remember giving Harper my permission to issue an apology on behalf of me. I wasn't even around when those schools were opened."

Similarly, in the words of Conservative advisor Gerry Nicholls: "I didn't run, own or teach at a residential school, nor did I abuse any students in these schools. Mainly that's because all that stuff took place about 100 years before I was born!"

There was a time when I was quite opposed to such formal apologies. I could understand Rondi's and Nicholls's attitudes. Also, I always felt that a formal apology is often seen to put the matter to rest. After an apology has been offered, how can one bring the matter up again? It's a way of taking the issue off the table without actually having to address it in a productive or meaningful fashion.

It's sort of like the payment of reparations (as was done for Japanese-Canadians who were kept in concentration camps during WWII): if ever they complain about the treatment again, some yahoo is going to say, "hey, we paid already. So shut the frack up!"

Then I invited Dr Mike DeGagne, of the Aboriginal Healing Foundation, to speak in my class, and he opened my eyes to a lot of things. Prime among them was the cultural importance of the concept of apology to many North American Aboriginal cultures. To we of the West, a formal apology is a legalistic mechanism, often hollow words, and an ultimately pointless gesture. To many of these people, Mike contends, an apology is a necessary and vital first step in achieving closure.

He also said that such an apology must have two dimensions: it must be genuine and it must be unqualified. An apology is a recognition that a wrong was done, and thus permission for the victim to stop blaming himself and to seek healing. This may sound airy-fairy to many of you, but the fact remains that it is insisted upon by these people. And make no doubt, there are survivors of the Residential School system still with us, suffering in silence much like survivors of the Holocaust did.

As one commenter on rabble.ca said, "what you say is of equal importance as to how you say it. We will be listening carefully to his words as well as to how he says them."

Aboriginal communities in Canada are beset with drug abuse, suicide, and a plague of other issues, almost all of which can be shown to be partially rooted in the policies of the Canadian government over the past hundred years. An apology is an acknowledgment of Canada's past, something a fair number of "conservative" Canadians refuse to do. Here are a few quotes from that bastion of reasoned though, the Western Standard blog:

"Having been here for thousands of years, one might think the natives would have done more than live in tents and scalp their enemies. I feel the modern day aboriginal is looking for as many handouts he is able to garner from the government." -Roslyn

"There are only 3 things I wish for our native brethern [sic]. Get a life. Get a job. Get out of my wallet. They want every amenity the white man has to offer but want their old way of life. I am sick and tired of begging for forgiveness for what happened in the past. Had nothing to do with me. This is 2008 not 1950.Government screwed up. They always screw up. Get over it." -peterj

"it's all about money, our money. We white people work for that money and pay taxes to support the Reserve Indians." -LizJ

"Aboriginals, Indians, Natives or whatever they are calling themselves these days were given a free education through the residential school system but that still wasn’t good enough for them so they concoct this story about physical and sexual abuse to get even more money out of the federal government." -Will Williamson

And the list goes on...

For those who still insist that since these crimes occurred "100 years ago" and therefore not of our concern, remember this: the prosperity of this nation is based on the initial grab for furs, timber and land that occurred 100 years ago, and continued well into the 20th century. This grab happened only because of treaties signed by Europeans with Natives, which were then broken by the Europeans. It also happened because of a programme of systematic cultural and biological genocide, of which the Residential School system was an important and intentional part.

Thus, the standard of living we enjoy today is a result of unholy crimes committed decades ago. This may have been done without our sanction, approval or participation, but we nonetheless benefit from it. From both a legal and ethical perspective, when one benefits from a crime, one is party to the conspiracy that that crime represents.

As an immigrant to this nation, I readily agree to adopt the legacy of this nation and to answer for its history, because I benefit from that history. Why should those actually born here do any less?

Therefore, to those who insist that since "we" were not party to the thing that Harper is apologizing for today, I say: Suck it up and share in the apology, or do the honourable thing and give back all the benefits you have reaped from the Aboriginal genocide-- including your money, your land, your liberty and your fresh water.

R.I.P., Alexander The Great

Greetings from my office overlooking a searing hot Elgin Street on a hot summer's day in Ottawa, Canada. Something about tight miniskirts and bicycles that go oh so well together. Sigh.

Where was I? This morning I took a cramped Westjet flight from Toronto to Ottawa, just in time to be late for a morning meeting. The flight was miserable. I was stuck between two people. The enormously fat dude to my left kept trying to flirt with the moderately less obese dudette to my right. He, however, smelled of dried vomit and stale coffee. Worse yet, he was scared of flying, so his knee kept bobbing up and down nervously, like some sort of adipose jackhammer. I felt like I was being dry-humped by a hippo.

But I made it.

Today, my droogies, is the 2331st anniversary of the death of Alexander The Great. As some of you are aware, I have a fairly unhealthy fascination with the dead Macedonian, even making him a central character in my novel, Divine Elemental. (Pluggy pluggy plug plug.) Something about tragic figures and hubris always makes for a good story....

...Which brings us to.... Jean Claude Van Damme. Yes, that Jean Claude Can Damme. One of the things I learned in Paris was that there's a biopic about the life of the "Muscles from Brussels" called J.C.V.D. (See, in French, "JCVD" rhymes, so that's what they call him over there.)

The amazing thing is that J.C.V.D. is getting rave reviews. Maybe "Claude" is not so ridiculous when he's speaking his version of French, and not rambling along in weird English? I say "his version of French" because the man apparently has a reputation for mixing French and English into a kind of "franglais" or "fringlish" that just sounds strange.

Anyway, here's a taste of the film, J.C.V.D. Can't wait till it comes to a bittorrent near me:

Rosebud Salve

My last full day in Paris saw a brief trip to Luzarches, a tiny village about 48 minutes north of the city. Unfortunately, there ain't nothin' much going on there. But it was pretty enough, so I'm not complaining.

A weird thing happened in the evening, however: everyone seemed to feel the urge to speak to me in English. First, after making funny faces to a small child in a restaurant, her mother instructed her to, "dise lui quelquechose en anglais". I guess I wear the anglophone badge like a sign on my forehead. A few minutes later, the waiter broke out into English when speaking to me, presumably after hearing my pathetic, stumbling attempts at French. And as we left the restaurant, another patron stopped me to ask --in halting English-- how France was treating me.

Now this latter bit is sort of interesting. Despite the (well earned) reputation of Parisians as xenophobic and intolerant of those who would murder their language, this was not my experience. Everyone was quite welcoming and blase about my foreign status. (Heck, I'm sure 80% of the city is foreign these days). More importantly, until the restaurant experience, everyone was willing to let me try to express myself in French without cutting me off in English. In addition, as the last patron exemplified, there is a concern that France and Paris be perceived well; hence that fellow's inquiries about my impressions, my experiences with French people, and whether I would return. An excellent way to end my stay.

The following is a photo of a kind of balm I encountered while here: rosebud salve. Despite its name, it's meant for the lips and not the anus. Yes, I was disappointed, as well:


Also, I found the following sign. It says in French, "Church of Scientology", and above it in English, "Celebrity Centre":


Hey, at least they are now admitting what they are!

In Other News...

The next fun American politics guessing game is trying to predict whom Barack Obama will choose as his Vice Presidential running mate. I hope it's fairly obvious to everyone that choosing Hillary is both ill-advised and unlikely. No Presidential candidate wants to be outshone by his running mate; nor would Obama be interested in a threesome with Bill and Hillary (in the words of Eric Margolis); and I think he'd always be concerned that she would get him bumped off. I would be!

Eric Margolis claims that Obama is courting "Louisiana Gov. Jimmy Jindal" as a potential East Indian running mate. I think Margolis means Bobby Jindal, who is a Republican and, as I've discussed before, probable Creationist. Margolis also claims that Obama is considering Colin Powell.

I think that choosing a woman or racial minority for a running mate is sheer idiocy. What Obama needs is an old-fashioned, straight white man. A Southerner would be nice, too. I give you John Edwards.

Les Catacombes

Greetings from a cafe near rue Raspail where I am enjoying a hard won drink. My limited French continues to get a workout. I understand about 50 percent of what I hear and can make myself understood pretty much all of the time. Well, i've had to wave my hands a few times, but so far no one has become too frustrated with me and --most importantly-- no one has cut me off in English yet!

This morning I managed to warn off a Yugoslavian scam artist, order a crepe and give directions to a lost French tourist --no small feat for a man as terrified as I am of exercising his supposed second language.

Paris is fascinating. It is undoubtedly lovely, bur smells like an open sewer. Yes there is fashion here, but jeans and tennis shoes are most common. And I've seen so much camel toe that I think I'm back in Egypt.

today I ventured into the catacombs, the 300 year old quarry pits 20 metres beneath the city, which has served as the city's ossuary since the mid 18th century. It is a miles-long creepy underground labrynth where the carefully stacked bones of millions of dead Parisians are stored. Here's a pic of one of the skulls:

A tour of the catacombs really is quite an experience. The French have taken pains to preserve the creepy low lighting, and have limited both the frequency of tourists and the density of employees, so that every visitor gets a sense of being alone in the dark with a million dead bodies.

The fellow who took my ticket was amusing. He liked to guess visitors' countries of origin. For me, he guessed "America", then "UK" and then, after much pondering, "Canada". Weirdly, "India" never made his list.

I couldn't help but think that had this been a North American endeavour, there would be garish fluorescent lighting, handrails, computer kiosks, an escalator and, of course, a gift shop. The French know how to do ambience... that's why it's a French word!

Lastly, I was a tad disappointed that the French had already coined the word "Pestacle", which is close enough to my word, "pectacle", to make me uncomfortable:


I should also add that yesterday was the 64th anniversary of D-Day. As far as I could tell, there was nothing special going on in France, at least not conspicuous enough to draw my attention!

Anor-Sexy-A

The amazing thing about all my voyages to continental Europe is that regardless of how much I seem to drink, I never get a hangover! I guess it's the high quality wine. Even the cheap stuff here in Paris is of greater quality than the average bottle bought at the LCBO in Toronto.

Last night, I partook in my host's dinner party for her professor and friends. I was on my best behaviour and actually managed to hold my pornographic tongue in check... for the most part. It's tough being me. Maybe I have mild Tourrette Syndrome?

Speaking of dinner and excess, I found this old blog post, titled "All You Can Eat Is A Challenge, Not An Advertisement". I think I should soon start a "Best of Deonandia" file. What think ye? Any suggestions for content?

And speaking of overeating, I give ye:



Someone commented that I have not yet talked about "Parisian life". Well, the fact is that I don't know anything about Parisian life. I'm just a stupid tourist living off the largesse of my host and stumbling from winefest to winefest. But apparently, I tried during my last trip here. Post is here.

I leave you with this, a discussion of how both US Presidential presumptive nominees are seemingly deliberately exaggerating the "threat" posed by Iran. Are peoples' balls so small these days that threats need to be enhanced just so they can show how tough they are? Gimme a break.

Off to look for crepes... and to see Iron Man again, this time with French subtitles! (Not to be confused with this blog post.)

Uh Oh

With Barack Obama pretty much guaranteed the Democratic nomination this year (which in no way discounts my 8-year old Gore prediction!) the clock begins to tick on the first assassination attempt against the likely first Black President of the USA.

That's right, I said it. And, famously, I'm not the first. It was Hillary Clinton's own misstatement that pretty much "pulled the trigger" on her failure.... and rightly so. Intentional or not, her allusion to Robert Kennedy's assassination showed profoundly poor taste and insight. Keith Olbermann goes a little over the top in his condemnation, which is nonetheless an appropriate response:



Clinton's allusion is, unsurprisingly, very Republican-like. What? Don't believe me? Check out Huckabee's statement of record:



Oh, but it gets better. Faux News talking head and resident idiot (she's in good company over there) Liza Trotta joked about "knocking off" Obama on live TV:



Again, it's Keith Olbermann to our rescue with this condemnation of the vile Ms Trotta (along with two other rancid fiends of note):



And let's top it off with Olbermann going after Bush:



In Other News...

Got drunk and spent lots of money on excellent food in Paris tonight. It's now 3:AM, I am jetlagged, a tad tipsy, and blogging. What's wrong with this picture?

I leave you with a story that should scare the bejeezus out of you: a study was done to secretly track people's movements --without their knowledge!-- using their cell phones. Next: the bloody things will steal your money, screw your spouse, kick your cat and spit in your beer.

Wats In Spaaaaace

The above is a picture of the sunset, as seen from Mars, courtesy of The Other Ray. Speaking of things spacey, regular readers may recall that 15 years ago yours truly applied to be an astronaut with the Canadian Space Agency... unsuccessfully. My rejection letter is here (click to enlarge):



Now, Mischa sends us the online criteria for joining the Canadian Space Agency. If only the internet had been around back when I had first applied... I could have saved myself the trouble!

In other news, P-Dawg sends us this educational video about the "stimulus package".

Greetings from Paris, land of red wine, snooty waiters, fashion mongers and --today, at least-- overcast skies and dampness. I'm proud that I managed to converse with both the customs agent and taxi driver entirely in French, with neither one resorting to English, which is customary when a Parisian feels his language is not being properly used. So far, so good.

But what am I doing? Blogging. And working. No time yet to get out and taste the city. Patience, my droogies. The drunkenness awaits.

Blogging Is Good For You

So busy once again, hence my slowness to post these days. I'm off to France for a week, so posting will be even more sporadic. But I promise to try to update you all on my various Parisian adventures!

For those of you in the Toronto area, I would like to remind you to come out for the grand finale of the Luminato festival, called "Luminat'eau", which will be held at Harbourfront June 13-15. I'm on the advisory committee, so I will make it my responsibility to ensure that you have a good time! Here's the ad, click to make it bigger:



Meanwhile, The Other Ray let's us know that blogging is actually good for you. Well I knew that! And Brother Bhash points to an online market for domain names! Weirdly, pledgeofallegiance.com is going for $312,000! Apparently no ones to buy Deonandan.com. Suckers!

I leave you with this very disturbing animated GIF of Jean Claude Van Damme dancing. Next stop: Paris!