I remember in high school my friend Clint’s girlfriend Bethy was writing for the school paper. I’m not sure how, but the subject of affirmative action came up. She didn’t really know what it was so we explained it to her. She was incensed. The newspaper’s next publication contained a point/counterpoint on the issue in which Bethy wrote the “anti” argument. The rather bland article contained two of the strangest sentences I’d seen printed: “By promoting affirmative action, public officials and educators are promoting their own affirmative action” and “Affirmative action is simply affirmative action by another name.”

As it turned out, that made it in there because an editor took offense at her original wording, which suggested that proponents of affirmative action were engaging in some racial preferences of their own. He didn’t like the the term “racial preferences”, which she used repeatedly, so he did a mass-replace with “affirmative action” and never looked back.

I thought of that whole incident while watching the 80’s British comedy Yes, Minister. The serial’s villain is one Sir Humphrey Appleby, the bureaucrat extraordinaire whose primary function is to try to thwart the idealistic (if more than a little vain) Minister of Administrative Affairs, Jim Hacker. Appleby’s entire philosophy can be summed up with, “Sir, you can’t just go in and change things, and if you keep trying then things might change and that would be utterly unacceptable!”

In the third season he gives a stirring defense of being a moral vacuum. If he believed in all of the policies that he was ordered to do, he would be on both sides of every issue (depending on who is in power) and ultimately schizophrenic, so he takes no side ever. This would be one thing if it meant he dutifully carried out the will of his Minister without regard to his personal feelings, but instead it is his reason to thwart whatever it is that the minister is trying to accomplish in five simple steps. A man without a party, his interests begin and end in perpetuating the bureaucracy.

You wouldn’t think that a show about bureaucratic struggle could be so funny, but Yes, Minister succeeds admirably. Though Jim Hacker is the protagonist, it’s Appleby that’s really the star. His rationalizations, his sophistry, and his the genius of his manipulations are so funny because they are so familiar. It’s like watching Richard III and finding yourself sometimes more eager to congratulate the manipulative villain rather than the dupe in charge.

And Appleby isn’t always wrong. And even when he is wrong, I found myself understanding his need to guard his own interest, his very way of life in the face of those that would go needlessly upheaving everything. William F. Buckley famously characterized conservatism as “standing athwart history, yelling ‘Stop!'” and in that vein Appleby is very definition of conservatism. There is much to protect about the British way of life and he is there to protect it. Forever, in amber.

But of course Appleby goes too far and views any and all change as a threat to the very Kingdom. And he makes the classic mistake of viewing his own needs as intertwined with the needs of the Kingdom. Many a mistake has been prevented by those that live and die by protecting the status quo, but government is serious business and it is people like Appleby that fiddle while levees deteriorate.

A free and democratic people simply cannot accept that the bureaucracy is and always will be and the status quo cannot change. The biggest case and point in the United States is Louisiana. They came to accept the corruption in their state and it actually became a marker of perverse pride as ego prevailed over self-esteem. They did make some attempts to change things as Edwin Edwards got shipped off to jail and, believe it or not, New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin was elected on a platform of competence and honesty. And indeed, prior to Katrina, Nagin was the most honest and competent mayor they’d had in decades. Think about that.

The seriousness of the stakes make us need to be careful before we laugh too hard. Yes, Minister, like our own The Daily Show, lives and breathes by our own cynicism. And as strange as it sounds I wonder if laughter is a form of acceptance. Forrest Gump once said if you can’t sing good, sing loud. AA has the prayer about changing the things you can and accepting the things you can’t. Shows like Yes, Minister and The Daily Show simply subtly tell us to skip the whole try to change part and have a good, sneering laugh.

of course, how does one try to affect change without being an obnoxious outrage generator? Right now liberals are purely outraged every time The President sneezes. Eight years ago Republicans were the same. And I absolutely hate those damn bumper stickers about “If you aren’t outraged, you’re not paying attention.” Oh, spare me. And while you’re at it, don’t mistake outrage for conscientiousness or conviction. Which then makes me wonder if I’ve just become cynical about cynicism.

So I really can’t tell you whether this post is a review of Yes, Minister, an obnoxious Public Service Announcement, or a simultaneous expression and disdain of cynicism.

Anyhow, Yes, Minister is a great show. Because pits unrealistic idealism against cynical realism and political arrogance against defensive institutionalism, it’s as relevant twenty years later as it was then. Though this is a series that probably couldn’t be Americanized very well, any American that can appreciate dry, sophistical (as opposed to necessarily sophisticated) humor, could laugh as I did. I just hope we don’t laugh too long.

The screensavers on all my computers are slideshows. The slideshow that I’ve traditionally used has been a bunch of 3D-generated landscape images. But for my last job I decided to grab a bunch of wallpapers for favorite TV shows, anime, comic books, pictures I’ve taken, and childhood pictures of me. Then, at some point, I downloaded a bunch of anime wallpapers and that’s my third option.

The anime wallpapers are on one of my laptops. Some are from serials that I’ve seen, which is cool because it’s familiar, and some are not, which is cool because I learn about different serials that way. Some, however, are actually somewhat elicit. I’m not sure if there are any that out-and-out show nudity, but they’re generally inappropriate.

For the record, I’ve never been particularly into anime erotica.

At some point I’ll go through all 3000 images and knock out the inappropriate ones, probably before my parents next visit.

In the meantime, periodically Clancy will clear her throat and look at my monitor, and I’ve sorta put myself in the same situation that my best friend and I talked about putting his stepfather in.

Is it me or has the record industry been more successful than usual at shutting down song-lyric sites?

In interesting but irrelevent fact about myself. When I was in grade school I wrote a song called “The Arkansaw Rivers of Spring” even though I’d never been to Arkansas.

Anyhow, the state of Arkansas has designated an official spelling of the possessive. It is now Arkansas’s rather than Arkansas’. This has left Arkansan HDC unhappy:

In my experience, most grammar teachers use the possessive rules as described in the Associated Press Handbook, which would have the correct possessive spelling for Arkansas as Arkansas’. Just because there is a silent ‘s’ at the end of Arkansas, does not entitle you to add another for enunciation’s sake. It looks funny in written text, and causes people to stumble over the word. Naturally, your brain will look at the spelling and try to pronounce it as “Ar-kan-sass-es” which is far from the correct pronunciation of “Ar-kan-saws”.

Even discounting the pronounciation issue, it’s not as clear-cut as HDC suggests. When I was in grade school I was indeed taught that singular nouns (and proper names) ending in “s” are accompanied only by an apostrophe, but that changed sometime in high school or college when I was told to put the “s” on after all. The latter always made more sense to me, so that’s what I do. But HDC’s adamance got me curious, so I consulted some university websites to see what they have say. Surprisingly, I got five answers and one punt from six universities on what I thought was a pretty binary question:

Meredith College says that there is “generally” no “s” added in a singular nouns that end in “s”. But strangely, they say that the same applies to words that end in “x” and “z” and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a word end in either x’ or z’. Example given: Dr. Seuss’.

Purdue, on the other hand, says that there is always an “s” following the apostrophe after a singular word ending in “s”. Examples given: James’s.

The University of Oregon sites a rule that I have never heard: a singular noun ending in “s” is followed by an apostrophe-s except when the object referred to begins with “s”. Examples: Boss’s car, boss’ sister.

Emory, on the other hand, says that it depends on pronounciation, which is consistent with Arkansas’s position. Kind of. It says that it’s apostrophe-s unless adding the “s” makes it sound strange, in which case it can go either way. Example given: Pardes’, Pardes’s.

The University of Calgary does not care.

Anyway, I can agree with HDC that it doesn’t seem like a particular good use of the legislature’s time. But if he or she is worried that Arkansas codified it incorrectly and is thus making itself look stupid, he or she shouldn’t sweat it.

Addendum: Even the Stylebooks can’t agree! As HDC points out the AP Stylebook veers towards simply adding an apostrophe, but the Chicago Manual of Style veers towards apostrophe-s (except in words of two or more syllables ending in an ‘eez’ sound, which is where Emory was coming from.

-{found by way of Dustbury}-

Apparently the powers at be behind the Blu-Ray are already claiming victory over the HD-DVD and say that they will have replaced the DVD within three years.

My money is actually on the HD-DVD in the longer term, but I’m a late adopter when it comes to consumer electronics so I can let the dust settle before jumping into the fray. My money is on HD-DVD carrying the day because I’ve learned it’s a bad idea to bet on Sony (the company behind the Blu-Ray curtain) when they try to push their own standard, but time will tell.

But here’s my observation on the whole thing: Whomever named the Blu-Ray the Blu-Ray deserves a raise. Knowing nothing else about it, a Blu-Ray sounds like something I want to own. Sure, it makes me think of a toy raygun or something, but at least it sounds like a cool toy raygun.

But outstripping the coolness of the Blu-Ray name is the lameness of the name HD-DVD. Whomever named that should be fired immediately. Part of me hopes that Blu-Ray wins just so that I don’t have to start saying HD-DVD on a regular basis. Not only do you have five letters that you have to spell out, three of them are the same damn letter. Yes, the title is discriptive, but come on! I expect geeks to come up with bulky, lame names (PCMCIA slots, for instance), but electronics people should realize that they play to a hipper audience.

They could really do themselves a world of good just by getting rid of one of the D’s. HDVD, High-Definition Video Disc. No dashes, no spaces. I think the “Digital” is pretty much implied at this point. Four letters is pushing it, but it makes it sound like the next logical step after the DVD which might give it a competitive advantage and manages to do so without being so impossibly retarded sounding.

A CNN story comes up today that almost made me sick to my stomach. Not because of anything visual, but more with rage.

Due to content, the rest of this post will be in-link only, rather than right on the main page.
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… is quite possibly the most poignant twenty minutes I’ve ever seen from any television show. The first time I saw it it played at one in the morning and I was back from a music show and not quite ready to go to sleep.

SciFi and comic book writer Peter David said that he aims to get his readers to choke on their own laughter as he tends to put the tragic and shocking scenes right after something amusing or humorous. The saying goes “I laughed, I cried…” Well, I didn’t cry. I did yell at the TV, though. And I did need a gulp of vodka to get my mind and soul to shut up about it long enough for me to go to sleep. It hit my funnybone and several nerves all at once.

It’s amazing how a show can do that… and yet only to some people. My friend Clint and my folks have seen it and while they liked it, they weren’t touched by it the same way that I was. It’s sort of like seeing a ghost that no one else in the room can see. And it reaches out and touches you while those around you go on about their daily business.

One of the worst ironies I’ve seen today is a plethora of celebrities who run around adopting children.

This is something I have a problem with for three reasons.

First of all, they almost inevitably go somewhere where there are stringent laws on adoption, and proceed to use their celebrity clout to try to break them or go around them. McDonna did this most famously, but Angelina Jolie’s got a bit of a bad reputation in this regard too.

Second of all, one wonders how much time the supposedly busy – not to mention sometimes crazy – actors/actresses/celebs who do this can really devote to the kids, and how much time the kids are just going to be foisted off on nannies.

My final problem is very specific, and focuses on one Angelina Jolie, who seems to think that the acquisition of kids is some kind of massive Pokemon hunt or something. Jolie’s been running around the world the past few years: first she bought a cambodian boy (Maddox), then she went running to get an African adoption (Zahara), rounded it out with one from non-husband Brat Pitt (Shiloh), and the latest is to try to get a Vietnamese child.

Supposedly, the point is to have a “diverse” household. Personally, I think it’s an ego booster, part of the hollywood celebrity “ooh look what I’ve done, I’m so enlightened” conspicuous-consumption that goes on whenever they attach themselves to “causes.”

And I have to wonder how fucked up those kids are going to be when they get older.

I was chatting with my coworker Pat the other day. Pat has a sister back in Appalachia named Marie. Marie has lead, for lack of a better term, a disorderly life. She’s been married a couple of times and has three kids who are in the care of her parents because… well because no one seems to dispute that it’s better that way.

Next to the periodic bouts with narcotics, the thing that hurts Marie most is her choice in men. She is attracted to jerks. Rather, she is attracted to foolhardy, aggressive men and is, except in the thick of conflict, rather indifferent to whether or not his foolhardiness shows a disregard for her well-being as well and whether or not his aggression is aimed at her. I’ve never met her, but judging by her picture she’s a pretty girl and from Pat’s discription is not completely devoid of intelligence. She could, if the inspiration struck her, find a man that would help her put her life back in order. That is, of course, the furthest thing from her mind.

As Pat and I talk about it, we sort of lament those that made reckless choices with their lives. In the case of her sister, the inability to tell a good guy from a bad guy. Not even an inability but rather an attraction to those traits that strongly corrolate with abusers and neglectors. We lament her life choices with a saddened shake of the head.

Then we go grab lunch at Taco Bell.

I’m not sure there is anything much better than a Meximelt (hold the tomato), except maybe their grilled beef burritos. I love their beef burritos. She prefers the ground beef chalupa. There’s something about Taco Bell’s ground beef. It provides a heavy metal concert to the tastebuds. The music isn’t good but it’s loud enough that it doesn’t matter how good it is. It’s not how it tastes but rather the volume of the taste. And if the meat were an ounce leaner, the taste would not be but a fraction as good. You know how some peopleput a napkin on pizza to demonstrate how unhealthy it is? Pat and I are the kind of people that get upset that they’re removing that perfectly good grease from the pizza. It’s not that we’re indifferent to the unhealthiness so much as that we love and adore and cannot resist those things that make it so unhealthy to begin with.

Of course, such grease and naughty goodness leaves us much worse for the wear. Just as Marie always seems to end up alone despite her feast of young suitors, we surely end up alone on the toilet thanks to our feast of delectible nutritional sewage.

And of course when she reads this, Clancy will lament our life choices with a saddened shake of the head.

While looking up to see if I could find anything online about the Nguyen Count, I ran across an interesting set of stories about an interesting special election in Orange County, California. A seat vacated by a Hispanic Democrat was apparently hotly contested with two Vietnamise-American Republicans, both named Nguyen, vying for the seat on an advisory board. Follow the link if you’re at all interested, but I’ll just say that there were recounts involved, a margin of victory of seven votes (out of 26,000), a contested result, and butterfly-like ballot confusion. A month later and it still isn’t entirely over.

It’s only actually relevent if you live in Orange County (which I obviously don’t), but sure was an interesting read.

This article gives the rundown of the election, while this one profiles the one of the two candidates (I couldn’t find a profile of the other). This is the most recent article I’ve found on the subject.