Yippee! It’s New Orleans’ first-ever Ozone Action Day!

Oh, wait. That’s nothing to celebrate.

NEW YORK TIMES ARTICLE MOST LIKELY TO BE MISTAKEN

FOR A STORY FROM THE ONION

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Narrow Victory for Obama in the Caucuses in Guam

Senator Barack Obama appeared to win the Democratic caucuses in Guam on Saturday, defeating Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton by seven votes.

When hand-counting finished shortly before 9 a.m. Sunday, delegates pledged to Mr. Obama, of Illinois, had received 2,264 votes, compared with Mrs. Clinton’s slate, which had received 2,257, according to The Associated Press.

Turnout at the caucuses was about three times greater than it had been in previous years. Party officials said many people had registered as Democrats at the caucus sites, prompting the nickname “Democrat for a Day.”

—New York Times

SATURDAY, IN WHICH I CELEBRATE THE END OF THE SPRING SEMESTER BY FLAGRANTLY INFRINGING UPON ALLEGEDLY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL

For the past few weeks, BoingBoing has run occasional articles about the Oregon legislature and its firmly held belief that the state’s laws are copyrighted.

While I like the wacky, pioneering spirit behind all that–can’t you just see them in their prospector duds, hopping around and shouting, Them’s our laws, dagnabbit!?–the claim is totally bogus. And because of that, and because I’m the kind of person who hates to be told “no”, I was going to post a chunk of Oregon’s legal code today. Yeah, I’m a badass.

Then I remembered that Oregon is one of the few states that offers domestic partnership to GLBT couples, which is, duh, really cool. So what to do: stick it to the Oregonian Man, or celebrate forward-thinking legislators who’ve acknowledged “lifestyle diversity”? I chose both. Enjoy this excerpt from the bill that went into effect as law two months ago:

…(3) Many gay and lesbian Oregonians have formed lasting,
committed, caring and faithful relationships with individuals of
the same sex, despite long-standing social and economic
discrimination. These couples live together, participate in their
communities together and often raise children and care for family
members together, just as do couples who are married under Oregon
law. Without the ability to obtain some form of legal status for
their relationships, same-sex couples face numerous obstacles and
hardships in attempting to secure rights, benefits and
responsibilities for themselves and their children. Many of the
rights, benefits and responsibilities that the families of
married couples take for granted cannot be obtained in any way
other than through state recognition of committed same-sex
partnerships.

(4) This state has a strong interest in promoting stable and
lasting families, including the families of same-sex couples and
their children. All Oregon families should be provided with the
opportunity to obtain necessary legal protections and status and
the ability to achieve their fullest potential.

(5) Sections 1 to 9 of this 2007 Act are intended to better
align Oregon law with the values embodied in the Constitution and
public policy of this state, and to further the state’s interest
in the promotion of stable and lasting families, by extending
benefits, protections and responsibilities to committed same-sex
partners and their children that are comparable to those provided
to married individuals and their children by the laws of this
state….

—full, deadly boring text here

Take that, Oregon state legislature! We love you, kinda!

YES, THIS SOUNDS TOTALLY SAFE

House committee approves college firearms bill
Students could carry handguns to class

BATON ROUGE — All college students 21 or older who have qualified for concealed handgun permits would be able to carry firearms to class and other parts of campus under a bill approved 11-3 by a House committee Thursday.

The Committee on the Administration of Criminal Justice sent to the House floor House Bill 199 by Rep. Ernest Wooton, R-Belle Chasse, its chairman. Wooton said he expects lengthy debate on the bill’s merits when it hits the floor.

The bill drew support from college students who say they feel unsafe and inadequately protected when leaving campus late at night. Student leaders from several campuses teamed with Joseph Savoie, commissioner of higher education for the State Board of Regents, the agency that coordinates higher education funding, policy and curriculum, in asking the panel to reject the measure….

Wooton said his bill is an attempt to make colleges safe by allowing students to protect themselves against a gunman who breaks into a classroom and starts shooting randomly….

Savoie said that similar bills were filed in 17 state legislatures this year and killed in 15 — including Mississippi and Alabama. The only two states still considering the issue are Indiana and Louisiana.

–complete idiotic story at NOLA.com

Now, I understand we have a Republican governor, and I understand the Republican Party’s allegiance to the NRA, and I understand that Charlton Heston’s craggy, homophobic ghost may be roaming the land, terrorizing legislators who don’t support handguns for toddlers. But seriously: Mississippi–the state that thought it was totally fine for me to own a 20-gauge shotgun before I’d learned to write in cursive–put the kabosh on this crap, and Louisiana’s gonna give it a shot (so to speak)?

In the bill’s favor, however, I suppose hiring competent campus police officers would be way more costly than having students just shoot the crap out of each other.

Residents of our great state might wanna drop a note to their legislator about this. And if they don’t know who their rep happens to be, there’s an easy way to find out.

D. C. Madam Dead?!?

This could be really good for Senator Vitter. Or really bad. I’m rooting for really bad, but I’m kind of a dick:

A woman who police believe to be Deborah Jeane Palfrey, known as the “D.C. Madam,” was found dead in Florida Thursday, according to Tarpon Springs police.

Deborah Jeane Palfrey was convicted of running a high-powered prostitution ring.

The body has not been positively identified.

“Detectives are investigating an apparent suicide of a (white female) that appears to be in her early 50s,” Tarpon Springs police said in a news release.

Suicide notes were found near the body in a small storage shed next to a mobile home, police said.

Palfrey, 52, was reportedly staying at the home of her mother, who owns the property where the body was found, police said.

The Pinellas County Medical Examiner’s Office will determine the cause of death, police said.

The county sheriff’s office and the FBI are participating in the investigation.

Palfrey was convicted last month in connection with a high-end prostitution ring catering to Washington’s elite. She was found guilty of money laundering, racketeering and mail fraud. She was awaiting sentencing with a potential of 50 years in jail.

At least one lawmaker, Louisiana Sen. David Vitter, a Republican, turned up in the phone records of her business, Pamela Martin & Associates.

State Department official Randall Tobias resigned in May 2007 after confirming he patronized Palfrey’s business.

She argued it was a legitimate, legal escort service.

via CNN.com

UPDATE: Joe.My.God. has a fascinating addendum to this story:

During several recent appearances on The Alex Jones Show, Palfrey also said that she was at risk of being killed and that authorities would make it look like suicide. She made it clear that she was not suicidal and if she was found dead it would be murder.

–more at Joe.My.God.

Much ado about absolutely, positively nothing

A few weeks ago, there was a lot of hue-and-cry in New Orleans over the impending visit of a bunch of writers. The writers work for a website that pokes fun at street people–not only the homeless, but also panhandlers, buskers, and other folks who spend most of their lives on the street. The comments from locals generally went something like, “Oh, how awful–not only to ridicule the homeless, but to do so in New Orleans! That’s insensitive and insulting, kicking us all while we’re down.” Noble and totally laudable sentiments.

Today, the staff of the website in question sent me a link to the New Orleans article. And I’m happy to report, it’s nothing like folks had feared. It’s basically a guided tour of French Quarter hustlers (the panhandling kind, not the Corner Pocket [nsfw] kind). And you know, I’m not a fan of that kind of thing myself, so I found it pretty inoffensive.

What was totally offensive, however, was the writing style. Seriously, it reads like something from a bunch of dull, A&F frat boys. Very “what I did for my summer vacation”. I could barely keep my eyes open. Total snooze.

And FYI: ordinarily, I wouldn’t have even bothered to mention the piece, since the only people it’s going to anger are those who enjoy well-written prose. But I thought since the visit was kind of a big deal recently, I’d do the honors. I won’t bother posting the link, though, ’cause seriously: screw their page view stats.

TRAPPED!
(A short play in three scenes in which nothing happens)

* * *

10:30pm

(RICHARD is already in bed, idly flipping through the latest issue of Southern Living and watching a re-run of Family Guy from the corner of his eye. Four hounds lie atop the denim bedspread–which, incidentally, was chosen not for color or style, but because denim doesn’t hold dog hair very well. Two are curled at RICHARD’s feet, one is behind him, and another has nuzzled her way into the nook between RICHARD’s torso and his knees. RICHARD sighs contentedly, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by dogs, but knowing that he won’t sleep very well pinned in like that.)

(The hounds turn to face the door as JONNO’s flip-flops flip-flop toward the bedroom. JONNO stands at the threshold for a moment, waiting patiently for RICHARD to look up from his gay reading. JONNO’s face bears an expression of mild disbelief, mixed with a tinge of “I told you so”.)

RICHARD: Yes?

JONNO: Um, our door is locked.

RICHARD: That’s nice, dear.

JONNO: Our front door.

RICHARD: Probably for the best, since it’s getting late.

JONNO: No, I mean I can’t open it. We’re locked in.

RICHARD: Did you try jiggling the key?

(JONNO gives RICHARD a look that roughly translates as “Omigod, do you think I am a complete moron? Don’t you think I’ve been jiggling the damn thing for ten minutes–not to mention the last eight years? What, exactly do you take me for? And by the way, don’t throw out that magazine until I’ve had the chance to cut out the recipe for chicken meatloaf on page 180. I’m thinking of making that tomorrow night, and I have an idea of how to do it, but I want their list of ingredients. Seriously: doesn’t that sound good? Chicken meatloaf? And pretty low-cal, too. You can make the salad.”)

RICHARD: Did you try spraying it with graphite?

(JONNO gives RICHARD another look, meaning “You and your graphite. No, I didn’t try graphite, but BFD–graphite doesn’t fix everything. Besides, with your organizational patterns, I wouldn’t even know where to look for it. I’m serious about that meatloaf recipe. I tried one from Fannie Farmer, and it turned out like a briquette, but this one looks less fussy. I can’t wait.”)

RICHARD: Fine, I’ll deal with it in the morning.

(The sound of flip-flops fades into the distance, and RICHARD finishes reading a Southern Living article on eco-friendly architecture, which just seems weird. Despite those Al Sharpton/Pat Robertson ads, it’s hard to see red-state conservatives hopping on the conservation bandwagon. Especially in the South. Seriously, have you been to the South? Say what you want about rednecks and incest, but the South is kinda like the Land of Milk and Honey as far as natural resources are concerned. The thought of all those pine forests and soybean fields being laid waste by pollution? Poppycock. And bamboo floors have just got to sound bizarre to folks who still think of Jeeps as “foreign”.)

2:00am

(As expected, the hounds awaken RICHARD. He rolls from one side to the other, trying for an hour or more to go back to sleep. He shuffles to the medicine cabinet for some dolls, but the cupboard is bare. He grabs the issue of Southern Living and–appropriately enough–his copy of Mississippi Sissy and heads to the sofa to read for a while. Two hounds follow and squeeze onto the sofa beneath and atop his outstretched legs. The last time he looks at his watch, it’s 5:00am.)

7:00am

(RICHARD awakes, groggy. The youngest and largest hound sprawls along the length of his body, her front paws pressing firmly on RICHARD’s chest. Slowly, he shakes her off and heads to the kitchen to make coffee, turning off the alarm and letting the hounds outside for a morning romp. On the way back to the living room, RICHARD has a dim memory about the front door. Something about the lock not working properly. He tries to open the door, but nothing happens. He sprays it with graphite, but nothing happens. He pulls out the needlenose pliers, the vice grips, and every screwdriver in his arsenal, but nothing happens. He sits down in front of his laptop, looks up the number of the nearest top master locksmith, and makes an appointment for 9:00am. He then walks to the bedroom, where JONNO and the eldest hound are sleeping, back to back.)

RICHARD: You win.

JONNO: Mhmmmhmmhmmhmhmmh?

RICHARD: I said, “You win”.

JONNO: Whmanammmmhm?

RICHARD: Fine, be that way. I’m going to make toast.

THE END
(I told you nothing happened.)

Jack Chick‘s Chick Tracts seriously piss me off. They are also totally fascinating — in part because they piss me off.

Growing up in a small town in Mississippi, you might assume I’d had bible-thumping parents, but in fact, they were pretty mild on the god front. Dad always wanted us to accompany him to church, but if he didn’t go, we certainly didn’t have to walk over by ourselves. Mom was agoraphobic and almost never attended services, insisting that you don’t have to go in order to be a good Christian. Pretty lax, no?

The peer pressure was another story–the “holier than thou” race between me and my classmates. In church we’d all promise to be Upstanding Young Citizens, but obviously the world doesn’t work like that, especially when you’re a teenager with raging hormones. Much less raging gay hormones. When I got to college, I finally stopped caring what my peers thought and quit going to church altogether. I haven’t looked back.

That said, I’m still uncomfortable with religious zeal. All the Jeebus freeks who descend on the Quarter for Decadence and Mardi Gras–I know they’re totally laughable, but at the same time, something about them really pushes my buttons. Maybe it’s all the shouting they do. (My list of fetishes, though long, doesn’t include being yelled at.) Or perhaps it’s the fact that they’ve gone all Stepford for god, quoting scripture instead of engaging in intelligent debate. Or maybe it’s the simple fact that they’ve come into my neighborhood to judge me and my friends.

Worst (or maybe best) of all, every one of them is passing out Chick Tracts, pocket-sized comics that insist the reader is going to hell and then explain why. The message is awful, but the way it’s told is so outrageous, so over the top, so queeny…well, you can’t help but read the damn things. I used to go up to the freeks and ask for extra copies so I could make sure I had them all.

Understandably, today’s BoingBoing feature on Syd Garron and Rodney Ascher’s film Somebody Goofed is of special interest to me. Somehow, I’d never managed to see the film, even though it’s over 10 years old. Whether or not it was truly “groundbreaking” (I remember seeing similar work on MTV’s Liquid Television several years earlier), it definitely captures–and maybe enhances–Chick’s peculiar style:

http://p.castfire.com/Xu7m0/video/11122/bbtv_2008-04-30-014242.flv

FYI, there’s a cleaner version on YouTube (i.e. no BMW ads interrupting the god stuff), but it doesn’t look quite as crisp as Xeni’s. Take your pick.

Also seen on Mainichi News, the best porn title ever: The Sexual Desires of a Female Proprietress Who Shamelessly Flashes her Panties. Yowza.

BEST TITLE EVER. NOT TO MENTION THE LEDE.

Porn filmed in Japanese McDonald’s? I’m rubbin’ it!

McDonald’s customers suspected something amiss when one guy pulled out his whopper. They knew for sure when he began partaking of fur burger. The upshot was four people trying to make an adult movie in a fast food outlet ended up getting arrested….

An adult movie production company associate adds his two bits.

“They probably did something that stupid because they wanted to cut production costs,” the associate says.

“Putting the actress’s wages aside, 10 years ago most cheap adult movies had a budget of about 1 million yen, but now that figure is more likely to be 500,000 yen or, in really bad cases, only around 300,000 yen. If you’ve only got 300,000 yen to work with, there’ll be no room to book a studio or hotel room once you’ve rented the filming equipment and paid the guys’ wages. So that’s probably why they filmed in the fast food restaurant….”

—full story at Mainichi Daily News

For those doing the math, remember: markets vary, but 1 Japanese yen is usually worth about 1 US penny. So 300,000 yen = 3000 dollars, more or less. Which isn’t really enough to film opening credits in the Valley, much less a bona fide scene.

Assuming John, Hillary, and Barack have sufficiently addressed the rising costs of oil and food in their platforms, maybe they ought to add a statement about the rising cost of porn. That’d be enough to make even me pay attention.

P.S. Tyler pointed me toward a questionable report that verifies what I’d previously wondered: apparently, political opinions are genetic after all.