blasphemy air

I think this is one of the most disgusting things I've read in a good while: an American televangelist is asking followers to send him $54 million so he can buy himself a fourth private jet.

His justification is his claim that, if Jesus were alive today, he would be riding a private jet and not a donkey.

The huckster in question already lives in a 35,000-square-foot mansion, paid for by tax-deductible donations and for which he pays no real estate taxes.

Apparently this lavish living, funded by tax-deductible dollars, is allowed because his "ministry" actually owns title to all these assets.

One wonders how many of his donors are ever treated to visits in the mansion they funded or rides on the jets they bought for him.

Now I'm no biblical scholar by any stretch, but I do remember the bit about the rich man and the camel. I've been trying to figure out how many private jets you can fit through the eye of a needle.

royal remainders

Yesterday, I happened to read this article in the current issue of Vanity Fair profiling deposed royals and others from former royal houses about how they survive in the ordinary world.

One bit that's quite curious, and leads the article, are the ordinary people, including Americans, who have decided to help out a castoff royal or two and believe royalty is a superior form of government. For instance, a community college employee from Omaha raises dosh for the deposed royalty of Romania.

Many of the erstwhile royals live lives of ordinary unremarkability now, many in mundane jobs, and more than a few sound like they live from hand to mouth. This makes the fact that they still cling to their royal status more than a little pathetic.

I am reminded of some minor washed-up entertainers I encountered in Los Angeles who still clung to their days of glory. You'd think, rather than wanting to remind themselves constantly of their better days, they would go out of their way to forget them.

ironic arrest

I thought this was an interesting news story -- operators of a website that posts mugshots have themselves been arrested for extortion. The fact that the operators charge $400 to have a mugshot removed, even if the person was never prosecuted for the arrest that led to the photo in the first place, seems to be what turned authorities against them.

Based on what I read in the linked and other articles on this topic, the legal problem was in how this particular website was run, not the basic idea of a mugshot website. Apparently, the whole purpose of the website, which accepted no advertising, was so people would pay money to get their mugshot removed.

I've written here before about online publication of people's mugshots when they're not convicted of a crime. I think states should enact laws to prohibit that from happening by barring release of any mugshot unless a person is convicted.

Ultimately, unless famous people are involved, what real value is there in law enforcement agencies publishing mugshots for ordinary folks unless the people are fugitives? In a sense, it's exacting a penalty before there is any conviction -- and in many cases where there never will be a conviction.

feet of clay

Disgraced movie producer Harvey Weinstein was arrested on Friday and charged with rape and several other sexually related charges.

Less than a year ago, Weinstein was at the top of the mountain. How much can change in a few months. Given Bill Cosby's recent conviction for similar charges, Weinstein may be looking at the same fate.

While Weinstein deserves his day in court like everyone charged with a crime, IMHO this arrest was a good thing. Hopefully in the future, fame and fortune will no longer protect someone against the sort of scrutiny that any ordinary citizen would face. If Weinstein was a cab driver or a plumber, he would have been prosecuted long ago.

Two things about his arrest did make me chuckle. First is that it's quite difficult to surrender yourself to police in a major city and avoid the so-called "perp walk" and Weinstein was no exception.

The second is how Weinstein showed up with three thick books like he would suddenly have a lot of free time on his hands. This fact did not escape media scrutiny.

Hopefully, the truth will be revealed and justice will prevail, regardless of how this case ends. And hopefully, it will be a cautionary tale for other so inclined to victimize easy targets -- don't do the crime if you can't do the time, no matter how rich and professionally successful you might be.

I particularly liked the news photo seen below (enlargement) because it's almost like you could read the minds of the three principals seen. The woman on the left is one of the two police officers who arrested Weinstein, as is the tall man with the badge. Weinstein, of course, is seen in the middle.

fair-weather patriots

IMHO standing for a national anthem or any other observances, such as placing your hand on your heart, is a private, personal matter. Some may choose not to do so out of personal beliefs, just as some don't pray when in a group where a speaker says something like "let us pray."

The United States Supreme Court affirmed long ago that on cannot be required to stand for the flag nor to salute it nor to stand for the national anthem. You have the constitutional right to sit if you choose.

I've always found it more than slightly obnoxious when people make a big deal about how they stand for the anthem or flag while loudly criticizing those who don't. Such behavior fundamentally misunderstands what it means to be an American.

Patriotism should be a matter of private pride, not public preening.

The meme below (enlargement) exposes one such preener as a hypocrite. I am reminded of the old expression "don't hurt yourself when you're busy looking down your nose at someone else."

And, yes, the photo is genuine. It has been verified.

knee scooters

By sheer coincidence, in the past week Joey has seen two different injured people using knee scooters when out in the public. Now he wants a chance to ride on one, too.

I had to explain the people don't have the scooters because they're fun but because they broke a leg or a foot. But I guess to a four-year-old mind, that seems illogical. It would be like seeing someone with a bicycle but only because of an injury.

He's seen people in wheelchairs, of course, but has zero interest in riding one of those. I have noticed him looking at older boys on skateboards with a slightly covetous face, particularly if they're doing something daring. I have a mental image of him in about six years riding one of those with a cast on his arm.

His father is addicted to motorcycles. I'm suspecting this is something genetics. Why is it that boys seem interested in wheeled contraptions but girls rarely do?

men are chumps

Yesterday I finished reading The Girl with a Clock for a Heart, a very clever and well written thriller by novelist Peter Swanson. This was the first time I had read his work, and now I'm looking forward to devouring some of his other books.

The central character in the novel is a loveable chump who is helplessly in love with a woman who is definitely above his league. She masterfully manipulates him in several dubious schemes that ends with him almost killed and also suspected of murder.

The writer very adeptly builds the thriller around a helpless fool you can't help but love and root for. The woman seems an innocent victim at first, but then she's slowly revealed to be a manipulative femme fatale.

Clock is Swanson's first novel, published in 2014, and he's had three published since then, all of which have garnered somewhat better reviews than the first. If you like tightly written, page-turning thrillers with interesting characters, you might want to check him out, if you don't know about him already.

barbecued boyfriend

I've been reading news articles in the past week about Kelly Cochran, a woman who recently was convicted for murdering her boyfriend and also her husband, who allegedly had helped her kill her boyfriend.

As if that wasn't enough, she's also suspected of barbecuing part of her boyfriend's corpse and possibly others and serving the remains to neighbors.

Not that I condone murder, but I can understand why some people are driven to do it. What I can't understand, however, is her serving the boyfriend as barbecue. Was she angry at neighbors? What was that all about?

The Investigation Discovery television channel will be airing a two-part documentary about Cochran next week. If I find that recording becomes available online, I will alert you all here.

real or fake?

The man in this selfie is actor Tim Savage performing the self-created internet character of Skweezy Jibbs, a dim-witted partyboy and wannabe player. I can't tell, however, whether the tattoo is actually real and he got it to enhance the Skweezy profile.

The enlargement provides the "explanatory" history of the alleged tattoo.

The redness makes it look authentic, because new tattoos always have some irritation like that. Or was that somehow faked?

I'm cynical enought to not believe this, but also naive enough to not be entirely certain of that conclusion.

weegee

The New Yorker published a nice piece in this week's issue about the famed photographer Weegee and his often eccentric images. If you're not already familiar with his work, the linked article has lots of examples.

I've always liked Weegee more than other photographers of his era because I think his works have more of an edge and an in-your-face quality about them. His contemporaries seemed more focused on creating Important Art, whereas Weegee seems like he wanted people to gasp.

Weegee's work also reveals that the twentieth century had a lot more nuance than was seen with more mainstream photographs in magazines like Life. While the photographs were usually black and white, American's society was decidedly not.

IMHO the best way to enjoy Weegee is to see an exhibit featuring his photography. If you can't do that, borrow a good Weegee book from your library and fall in love with him, if you're aren't already.

hallmarks of fraud

I happened to read this article in a recent edition of the Wall Street Journal (it's the one titled "Hundreds of Cryptocurrencies Show Hallmarks of Fraud") about the dubious nature of Bitcoin wannabes.

While I think Bitcoin is an insane risk, at least it's the oldest and most established of the so-called cryptocurrencies. Why anyone would invest in one of the shady knockoffs seems doubly insane to me.

IMHO, one of the two greatest weaknesses in Bitcoin and the various copycats is the lack of enforcement systems when fraud and theft occur -- and this happens regularly. If $1,000 is vacuumed out of your bank by a third party and the bank fails to protect you, government watchdogs can become your advocate.

But if the fraud or theft occurs with something like Bitcoin, you're pretty much shit out of luck. Government authorities aren't going to dig into that.

I may be wrong, but I think the cryptocurrency craze is an euphoric fad that will not end well. I suspect it will go down in history as a 21st century cousin of tulip mania and the South Sea bubble.

a leopard's tale

An ordinary person has popped into the American news during the past week. By total coincidence, I happened to date him a few times and slept with him once (and possibly twice) more than a decade ago.

He's not become a big enough name, at least not yet, for his entire personal history to be of any interest to the media, and I highly doubt that will ever happen. But even if he does, I know nothing that would be of interest to the press and the fact that he dated me would not be a scandal, given he was not married at the time.

Even if I knew something highly insalubrious about him and even if he became some kind of major public figure, I wouldn't kiss and tell. In part, because I don't really have anything much to say about him -- he was mediocre in bed and couldn't stop talking about himself most of the time I was with him. And in part because I think that kind of thing is shitty.

Nonetheless, I can't help but laugh every time I see a media story or picture or footage of him. He was never the sort of person I could date long-term because I couldn't take him seriously, and with what I've seen in his media coverage this past week, he's pretty much unchanged.

Just like a leopard can't change its spots, it can't lose them, either.

royal wedding overkill

I have a sense that real people are not nearly excited about the royal wedding today than people in the media, if real people are even actually excited at all.

The breathy coverage has morphed into histrionic hyperventilation. Will Meghan walk alone down the aisle?!? Will Harry shave his beard?!? Who is the mystery celebrity guest?!? Lots of capitals and question marks are needed with every pressing question!!!

Harry is currently sixth in line to the British throne, which means he'll almost certainly never be king, considering three of those ahead of him are decades younger than he is and more may push him further down in order. So while I'm sure he and the bride are lovely people, history and humankind will be utterly unchanged by their marriage today.

You can't blame the Brits for milking this for every story they can get. The royals are good for tourism millions, and the family is willing to play along.

But pardon the rest of us if we don't get terribly excited and carry on with our ordinary lives while not paying a whit of attention.

plotless novels

Earlier this week, I finished reading this novel. The author won the Booker Prize for this, her first book, and I have really liked most novels I've read that received that award so that's why I picked up this one.

I don't want to say I hated the book. But I couldn't wait for it to end, and it wasn't that long of a novel.

I have no problem with a loose story structure that at least has a beginning, middle, and end with some kind of narrative thread. And I usually like in medias res books which are written in a logical but not sequential order.

But I take exception to novels that have no structure at all. They're actually not really novels. They're more like fiction scrapbooks, a cluttered patchwork of some similar stuff that's all over the place.

Most stories -- novels, movies, TV programs, plays -- have a predicament near the beginning the sets the story in motion. You continue reading or watching to see if things are resolved and how.

But when you have no clear predicament, no reason to stick around and find out what happens to a set-up that actually was never there, you have a plotless novel that meanders through pages with no clear goal in sight.

I think sometimes writers have an inate writing talent but they completely lack a story sense. They can create beautiful elements in a story but they're clueless about how to structure what they're trying to do.

The author in question, Arundhati Roy, took twenty years to finish her second novel. I'm not the least bit surprised. And that one sounds like a plotless hodgepodge, too.

dirty hands tattoo

When I first saw this photograph, I thought the woman had dirty hands, like she had been fixing the fanbelt on her car or something and didn't notice the grease. But on closer inspection of an enlargement, I realized it was a monochrome tattoo.

This is certainly not a disfiguring tattoo and by far from the worst one I've seen, but I'm left wondering "why bother?" I can't think it didn't hurt like a bitch to have that put on her hand, one of the more pain-sensitive parts of the body.

I think tattoos should be like any fashion item, garment, or accessory. If it improves your looks and makes you more alluring, then go for it. But if it's just clutter or confuses the eye, then skip it.

prehistoric sex toys

While looking around online for something entirely unrelated, I happened to land on this page about prehistoric stone dildos, some of which are 30,000 years old.

Quite honestly, I don't think a stone dildo sounds like the safest thing to be shoving into your tender parts, but then I guess consumer safety was less than nonexistent in 28,000 BC. At least one carved from wood wouldn't be so heavy, and perhaps they made them, too, but they've not survived.

Archeologists and historians will probably never learn about how exactly these prehistoric sex toys were used. Given humans were hunter/gatherers in that era, presumably the males never strayed so far as to be gone more than a day or two.

But perhaps the sex toys were used during caveman foreplay. The male got the woman all worked up with the dildo and then did the deed. Or maybe a woman's virginity was taken with a stone dildo during some kind of fertility ceremony to break the proverbial ice.

The biggest takeaway from this is the fact that a sex toy was one of humankind's oldest inventions, showing its importance. It was discovered long before other basics like the wheel, which didn't appear until about 9000 BC, and agriculture, which didn't develop until about 10500 BC. It may have also predated pottery, given the oldest examples of that are from 27,000 BC.

family resemblances

In my own family, my father is one of six boys and one sister. His father was one of four boys with two sisters.

Based on the photographs I've seen of them over the years, none of those ten males have a particularly strong resemblance, although they're clearly related. Some were blonds, some brunets, some blue-eyed, some hazel, some brown.

In my mother's family, she is one of three girls and two boys. Both of my maternal uncles have had a strong resemblance to each other and the same for my brother, as those three do and did with their father and their uncles.

All my male cousins on that side of the family also have a strong resemblance -- the same coloring, the same build, the same shape of the head with similar faces. Every single one has or had dark hair and brown eyes with an olive complexion, the same Irish coloring as Colin Farrell. The females are all over the place with coloring and facial structure.

Looking at photos of my husband's family, they are like the males in my mother's family -- all variations on the same dark Irish male archetype. All have dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin. The women, however, are not nearly as similar beyond superficial resemblances -- some are natural blondes, some brunettes, some redheads. Eye color varies among the women, too.

And, of course, our two boys have this same dark coloring and very similar faces. Even though they're twenty-eight months apart, people will often comment how much they resemble each other. So I wonder why this so-called Black Irish resemblance is strong in males but weak in females in two unrelated families.

If we have another child -- and we're still trying regularly, thank you -- it will be interesting to see if he (or she) keeps up this tradition. I would imagine a boy would be another dark Irish fellow, while a daughter could be anything.

bloodthirsty nuns

I have been reading this book about the history of Britain between the Roman invasion up to the end of the fifteenth century. In one chapter, the author focuses on British crime and punishment in the medieval period.

The following incident raised my eyebrows, and I quote verbatim from the book:

At a convent, near Watton in the East Riding of Yorkshire, in the 1160s, one nun had lost her virginity to a young priest; when her condition became obvious, the nuns interrogated her about the offending man. When she revealed his identity, the nuns captured him. They took him to the cell of the pregnant nun. She was given a knife and forced to castrate her lover; whereupon the nuns stuffed his genitals into her mouth. She was then flogged, and bound with chains in a prison cell.

No mention of what happened to the poor priest nor how long the nun was imprisoned. To modern ears, this attack sounds more like something that would happen in an insane asylum than a convent.

This also sounds like it could be a scene in The Devils, the Ken Russell cult classic about nuns, repression, and sexual mania. Given that many women in medieval convents were sent there by wealthy families and the women had no actual religious calling, sisterhood of that era probably bore scant resemblance to more modern times. Perhaps these bloodthirsty nuns had been "troubled" girls sent to a convent to keep them out of trouble.

Nonetheless, I can't help but wonder what it was like in that particular convent to warrant such extreme reaction. Was the victim priest a hunk who had half the nuns all hot and bothered, but when they learned one of their sisters had bonked him, that drove them over the edge?

That, or some of them were flat-out insane. And religion mixes very badly with mental illness many times.

karma windfall

I found these photos posted online about an incident that occured in Queensland here down under. A driver had sheet metal atop his vehicle that was not secured properly.

That came loose and went through the windshield on the car behind him. If he hadn't been driving in Australia but, instead, in a country with left-hand drive like the US, this story would have had a very unhappy ending.

Driving in metro LA, Vegas, and here in Sydney, I somewhat regularly see shit flying off moving vehicles onto the highway. Most recently I saw a bag of cement fall off an open truck and, of course, the heavy paper ripped and powdered cement went everywhere.

The vehicle shown here is known locally as an Ute -- a combination station wagon and pickup truck. For whatever reason, they're massive popular here. (You can see it better in the front and side enlargements.)

chainmail gown

The actress/singer Zendaya is shown below in her chainmail gown she wore at the Met Gala earlier this week. Arguably the top social event in Manhattan each year, the Met Gala has an exclusive guest list with tickets starting at $30,000 per person.

I really like this dress, but it looks ridiculously impractical and difficult to wear. How the hell do you pee in that thing? How heavy is it? How do you clean and polish it?

I have seen faux chainmail camisoles that are some sort of PVC material covered with plastic metallic coating, but it looks pretty fake. I think if you're going full chainmail, you need to be authentic.

Imagine going through security screening wearing a dress like this. You might blow up the machine.

the blood eagle

the author's son

Ian McEwan is probably my favorite living author, so I was intrigued to read a new article interviewing him about people compelled to study his books in school and about how his own son only received a C grade when he had to write an essay about one of his father's novels.

And this after the author gave the kid a tutorial on his book and what matters he should consider. The instructor later was revealed to "disagree fundamentally" with the son's essay.

I certainly hope this wasn't a case where a teacher marked down a paper because he or she didn't like the book while the son did (or vice versa). If so, in my opinion, that's a really bad teacher.

IMHO a book should be judged on what the author set out to do, to show, to prove, and so on. A good essay would thus explore that. What a student's specific subjective opinions are about a book should not be critiqued by a teacher.

there be dragons

This horrifying creature defacing this unseen young woman is allegedly a dragon (enlargement). IMHO, it looks more like it was inspired by this, right down to the color.

This badly rendered and hastily done mess will be visible with many ordinary outfits she might wear, from a bathing suit to a blouse to a summer dress. It will also not be easy to cover over with a better tattoo of something else.

Tattoos are a life sentence and sometimes a cruel one at that.

pornstar housing crisis

The Daily Beast is running an interesting article about how pornstars and other adult entertainers have difficulty renting, buying, and selling a place to live.

Reading this piece, I was left wondering if this is really anecdotal absent any kind of comprehensive survey or study. I know a lot of self-employed people who have had difficulty qualifying for housing and they worked in ordinary creative jobs. The issue might not always be porn and, instead, the landlord wants a steady wage-earner.

While I was never really a pornstar (although I appeared in two porn scenes), I was an adult entertainer for about five years when I danced. I usually rented a room and private bath in a house or condo/co-op that was owner occupied.

Sometimes when I inquired about a place and filled out an application, the owner let someone else have it. I never asked why. I always put "actress/dancer" on my application and no one ever wanted further employment details as long as I came up with first and last month's rent and security deposit.

I had the sense when inquiring about a share room that the owner was really looking to see whether she clicked with me. If she liked me, then I was usually offered the room.

I wonder how some of the people quoted in the article presented themselves. Did they "look" like porn people when they showed up to tour the place? Or were they dressed like "normal" people?

Whenever I went to look at an available place, I dressed like I was going to do a temp gig, even though I actually did those quite infrequently. I wore something fairly simple with sensible shoes and minimal makeup.

As far as the people buying a house, as the article mentions, I imagine a lot has to do with the state of the market. If the housing supply is plentiful, then potential buyers can be picky. But if it's a seller's market, then people will snap up a house no matter how many bukkake movies were shot inside the place.

freak accident

The probability of a fatal freak accident like this has to be minuscule. Like one in an octillion or something.

Still, it shows how the seemingly impossible can happen. Like I've written here before, life is a series of random events. If something could possibly happen, even if there's only the slimmest of chances, then you can't truly be surprised if it does happen.

The linked piece also tells about an incredible tragedy with a young woman killed for an entirely stupid reason. Her whole future vanished in a heartbeat.

Stories like this make me a tiny bit anxious as a mother. In a decade, my oldest son will be a teenager. Teenagers sometimes do incredibly stupid, risky, reckless things.

But there's really nothing you can do as a parent. Trying to restrict your child might cause him to be more rebellious. You can't bubble-wrap your kids.

I didn't even really think about this stuff when we decided to have children. I'm not losing sleep over it -- at least not yet -- but you can't look ahead without noticing there could possibly be a dark cloud on the horizon.

lacking ambition

This quote, depending on the source, is either attributed to Marilyn Monroe or Timothy Leary: "Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition."

It really doesn't matter who said it. Let's consider the words themselves.

This suggests that the only worthy women are those who seek to subordinate and possibly emasculate men. If you merely want to level the playing field, you're lazy.

Needless to say, I reject this point of view. The reality is that women simply want to compete with men in a fair system. Equality is not a dirty word. We are not trying to take over the world.

To suggest otherwise makes women out to be manipulative harridans. That claim can ignite anger -- or worse -- in a misogynistic mind.

You can't build a bridge if you're standing on a mountain.

asshat or attention whore?

Whenever I read about people like this clown, I'm left wondering if they really believe the nonsense spewing out of their pie hole or they simply saying outrageous things to get attention. The same could be said for the Westboro Baptist Church people -- nutty or needy?

What's different about the jerk written up on the link I provided is that he may end up challenging a sitting U.S. Senator in the general election. He will be a huge embarrassment for the party under whose banner he campaigns.

While he stands almost no chance of being elected, what would happen if his opponent is killed or seriously disabled only a week before the election? Could he end up winning?

Too bad Republicans and Democrats didn't trademark their names once upon a time. That way, if you wanted to run on one or the other's ticket, you had to adhere to certain minimal standards.

104 years old

I thought this was a sad story -- a 104-year-old scientist has traveled from Western Australia to be euthanized in Switzerland. Euthanasia is legal there but not here down under.

I agree with him that people should be able to end their life legally if they want to, as long as it's an entirely voluntary decision made with a sound mind. But no one wants society to become like Soylent Green where euthanasia is heavily marketed as patriotic.

Nevertheless, I think it's sad that he wants to die when he still could contribute something positive as a public figure. He is a well known ecologist and could provide a valuable perspective on his subject that only a very old person might provide. As well, he has a large and loving family.

Again, this is his choice, but it seems like such a sad one to me. It's like welcoming defeat. Euthanasia is something done for sick animals. It seems demeaning to do it to a person.

the joy of brain candy

I love to read beautifully written literary novels. The finer the craft, usually the greater the joy.

But books like that satisfy a particular need. At other times, a reader like me (and many others) wants some pure escapist brain candy like a well written crime thriller. Such books don't pretend to be future classics. No one will be reading them a century from now.

Brain candy novels are the opposite of chic lit and aren't the same as mysteries. They're urgent, fast-paced, smart thrillers with escalating jeopardy and tension featuring ruthless sociopathic antagonists and morally compromised, brilliant protagonists. You often know who the bad guys are and what they're up to long before the central character does, but part of the fun is trying to figure out how the good guy will prevail.

Michael Connelly used to be my go-to writer for escapist brain candy. But then I read every book he's ever written, so I needed another source. John Sandford has more recently filled that role.

But now I've read almost everything Sandford has written and need to find another replacement. Lee Child is a possible alternative, but I don't think he's as strong a writer as Connelly and Sandford.

I guess I'll just have to read some possible new candy suppliers until I find another writer to devour. I'm going to give James Lee Burke, Harlan Coben, and John Connolly (no relation to Michael) each a try.

emails from the dead

I happened to read about this website which will send emails for you after you've died. I could see how that might be a good idea for some people but a very bad idea for others. I think it could really freak out some people.

My husband would be one of this latter group. He doesn't even like it when I make jokes about being dead. I think receiving an email from me some weeks or months after I shuffled off the mortal coil would upset him. He's not a wilting violet by any means, but he is touchy about death of loved ones. I think this is because his mom died when he was quite young.

For some, receiving a postmortem email might actually be nice. I think my brother and favorite uncle would like an email from me in the event I suddenly die.

For people without partners, this website could be a really good idea. You could let next of kin or friends know where important documents were stored and other essential details in the event you died suddenly.

The site is free, so if this tickles your interest, have a look.

all ablaze

I was listening to a CD of Gilbert and Sullivan highlights a few days ago, and this song has been an earworm ever since. I think it's one of the Arthur Sullivan's best tunes, although the lyrics don't particularly make sense out of context. You can hear the roots of twentieth century Broadway musicals in this piece.

The solo here is sung by the great British soprano Lesley Garrett, whose name is misspelled in the YouTube post.