Perish this particular thought

Via teh facebooks, I saw an article from Sunday's Post inquiring as to the future of the home library.  Allow me to say, unequivocally, that this assault on culture and learnedness shall not stand.  

At least not in my house. 

You see, anyone who knows me well can attest that I love my books.  I love their look, their smell, and even the words printed in them.  I catalog them and gently arrange them according to my own bizarre sense of logic.  I bought an old fashioned rocking chair so I could sit around and read them for hours while gently relaxing.  And yes, I have a room of my house dedicated to my books, and I'm out of shelf space.  I particularly cherish older editions of great works.  Of course, there are a few that go unread, that I keep for purely quirky value, like that 900 page beast on what the U.S. should do about the Soviet Union after the fall of the Berlin Wall, published about a month before the Soviet Union ceased to be.  I picked that one up at a used book store in Yellow Springs, Ohio, and bought it out of sympathy for the poor schmuck who did all that work.  

Then there are others.  The books inscribed with love by my English teacher from high school, who is one of my personal heroes.  A random assortment of titles about the U.S. Civil War, shelves dedicated to my weird fascinations with Queen Elizabeth I and Eleanor Roosevelt, inspirational pieces from activists of yore, and heavily used books from grad school all have their place.  

I spend far too much time in used book stores, looking for something unique to jump out at me, or hoping to find treasures by favorite authors that may have since gone out of print (I found one just last week).  

I'm not going to be so bold as to say I'll never have some tacky electronic book reader.  I (sort of) see their merits.  But to think that I'll ever be willing to give up that visceral connection you make with a text you hold in your hands and flip through with care seems preposterous.  So I'm keeping my books.  And trying to figure out where to put them all. 

Boldly going back to my life

I have a confession.  Sometime last year, my illustrious partner started watching a few Star Trek episodes online.  He doesn't watch old shows in any particular order, but eventually he (sometimes joined by me) knocked out both The Next Generation and Voyager.  However, unlike me, he generally saved this supreme nerdiness for sick days, rainy days, and the like. 

Not me.  No, no, no, no, no.  When I bite a bullet, I want to taste powder.  So I set about watching the entire Voyager series, in order.  All seven seasons, 26 episodes each.  That's some big number my little head can't compute.  But then I switched to Deep Space Nine, with its huge story arcs and that whole being a seven-year long allegory thing.  The boy abandoned me at that point.  This ridiculous feat was all mine.  Besides, I'd watched parts of both series on my mom's couch while I was in high school (mostly before I got involved with the artist formerly known as Bunny).

And this past weekend, I finished it.  Good finally conquered evil, and there was even an exceedingly awkward farewell montage.  (Sadly, this montage did not include any hot lesbian make-out sessions.)  

Now I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a burning desire to go watch The Next Generation from start to finish.  But, no, it's time to stop.  I've spent too much time on Memory Alpha researching bits of nuance about cultures and technologies that don't actually exist.  I'm ridiculously fascinated by Borg, and that has to stop.  I think.  

Anyway, look for more blogging, more socializing, more world saving, etc., now that I've successfully completed this mission of exploration and defense of liberal enlightenment. 

Just don't forget the prime directive.

Your undecided voter's report on last night's Ward 1 candidates forum

For those of you not the least bit interested in ridiculous minutiae of DC local politics, feel free to read on.  Or, better still, if you religiously followed my live tweets last night, you can at least skip to the end.  I must say that the City Paper's account of what went down seems hugely distorted.  The event wasn't a victory for incumbent Jim Graham by any stretch.  

There were four candidates present, including Graham, along with Jeff Smith (who lives in my current neighborhood), Bryan Weaver (hailing from Adams Morgan, my former home) and Marc Morgan, the Republican running in the November general election (the first three are Democrats battling in the primary).  There were large turnouts by supporters of at least the three democratic candidates, but I walked in truly undecided.  Graham has been helpful in some of my activist projects, and I appreciate that (even if it has required my serving as a presentable sexual object on behalf of my justice league pals, including knowing when to coyly grin).  But Jeff Smith chatted me up at the bus stop one morning, and had good things to say.  And Bryan Weaver had that catchy youtube video.  (And, let's face it, will I vote for a republican?  Not so much.)  And in spite of progress, our ward has faced it's share of idiocy.  Unemployment is still in the double digits.  Affordable housing stock is quickly being replaced with new (and ugly) condos for affluent people.  It's taken well over 5 years and repeated ripping up and repaving of 14th and Irving Streets to get Columbia Heights to where it is now.  Georgia Avenue is still woefully neglected, and there's the wee debacle over the closing/demolition of my neighborhood school (latest status update here).  I'm not saying that in 12 years in office, Jim Graham should have hung the moon squarely in Ward 1, but his accomplishments are not without critique.

That's where Smith and Weaver come in.  Last night was clearly a debate for nerds, and the biggest nerds were probably the ones sitting at the table.  Weaver's biggest strength is clearly in housing issues.  Smith's expertise in education.  Both these have impacts on jobs, so they're both strong there.  Morgan seemed like a nice guy, and definitely a DC Republican (focusing on green jobs, etc.), but public-private partnerships can't possibly be the answer to every question.  Then there was Graham himself, who seemed firmly entrenched in defending the past, and spent nary a second saying what specifically he'd do in the future.  In short, it was what DCist once dubbed Grahamstanding, and the performance wasn't terribly impressive.  He basically came across as an old crank, and that was disappointing.  

So again, I'm stuck on Smith and Weaver.  I like them.  Both.  A lot.  I think either would be an excellent legislator.  But I couldn't really distinguish much between them.  They seemed to agree on the substantive issues at hand (and, admittedly, the pre-selected questions were a bit odd), even whispering back and forth at the table.  There was definitely a style difference.  Weaver seemed slightly stronger in the rhetoric department, but Smith had his handy dandy charts, graphs and photos. A friend had a follow-up conversation with Weaver at the end, and he said most of the difference, in his opinion, was in process.  Not what the problems are, or even what the solutions should be, but how to get there.  See why this was a debate for nerds?

While I've made up my mind on most of the DC races, this one still leaves me puzzled.  I clearly can't merge Smith and Weaver together to form one ultra-wonky superlegislator, so I guess that means more research and more forums.  Stay tuned!

Check out that basket! A hung parliament?

Yeah, yeah, sorry for the title, but I can't help myself.  It's just too good.  

As many of you know, I'm a total dork for British politics, and it's election time there, and for the first time, one of the two dominant parties may not get a clear majority, thus creating a hot hung parliament.  This is causing all sorts of nerds everywhere to nerd out over the possibilities.  

Frankly, I think David Cameron of the Tories is a blooming idiot, so another Gordon Brown premiership is probably the best option.  I'm also rooting for my old boss Jeremy Corbyn (Twitter | Facebook) in London's Islington North constituency, who is decidedly Old Labour and definitely deserving of being returned to his seat.  Jeremy taught me boatloads about politics, human rights advocacy, and just being an all around principled person, so if you live in Islington, return him to his seat, please.  :)

In any event, this is going to be a fun election to watch.  This year even featured the first ever televised debate among the party leaders.  May 6th is going to be a very fun day.

Just an asteroid miner's daughter

I do just love it with ethics, international law, and totally ridiculous schemes for outer space coalesce to form a nice little nerd loaf. Take, for instance, this discussion on the ethics of mining asteroids. On the one hand, there's enough metal in those things to build star ships. That's right, star ships! Warp speed and what not.

On the other hand, the glut of materials on earth's raw materials market would basically shutter the economies of entire nations, including some pretty big ones. Is warp speed worth mass starvation? Depends on the particular brand of nasty capitalist you speak to.

Still, mining in space... pretty cool. And the legal discussion around it will also give IR people a nice distraction for the next 150 odd years.

Nerd worlds colliding

I used to watch the A Team when I'd get home from high school, and now I watch more Star Trek than is healthy. Hope you enjoyed.

Hat tip: Armchair Generalist.

Neoliberalism goes boom

I'll be the first to admit that my grasp of economics and complex theories of capital and class sometimes escape me. I'm just not a theory guy. Anyway, this video is both concise and amusing.

Neoliberalism as Water Balloon from Tim McCaskell on Vimeo.

Hat tip: Africa is a Country

How to be a nerd in two short days

Last weekend I decided to nerd out and do some ridiculous history sightseeing. The agenda: 1) chase John Wilkes Booth into Virginia, 2) Fredericksburg, battle of, 3) Lincoln Cottage (conveniently located near my home).

I got a late start Saturday, thanks mostly to my own laziness. I decided to skip ye olde crime scene (Ford's Theater) and head directly onto the chase. First stop: Mary Surratt's Tavern, out in Clinton. I toured the home, which is well preserved, and endured the inane questioning of a touron couple and their decidedly special obnoxious child. However, I neglected to take a photo, so you'll just have to trust me. After that it was just stops along the road, as most everything else on the route is either closed, privately held, or just plain gone and marked by one of those little roadside plaques. A few photos:

Dr. Mudd's House

St. Mary's Church

A pine thicket, obviously

After that, I went back in time two years to ye olde Fredericksburg, Virginia, where I walked along the line of battle that was (then) just outside of town (it got too dark for me to attend to the other flank). Again, more boredom:

Sunken Road, Stone Wall, and Ennis House

Inside the Ennis House (don't live in a war zone)

From Marye's Heights toward town and the Union assault

When cannonball meets marble post (Willis Cemetery)

The official tally at Fredericksburg National Cemetary (Union soldiers only)

And then finally the Lincoln Cottage located at the Armed Forces Retirement Home. The museum is small, but quite nice. You can only tour the cottage on an official tour though, which is a little too much Disney history for my tastes (as in, you really don't need a giant plasma screen in each room to have some Lincoln impersonator talk at me). Anyway, I learned something, so that's all that matters.

The front of the cottage

And the rear view.

We now return to our regularly scheduled non-historical nerdiness, already in progress.

Brilliant blogging by others causes writer's block

I came across this post this evening about the release of the Lockerbie bomber and the politics of the UN Security Council and how its evolution has helped alter the international legal environment.

I've sat here for a good little bit now, trying to think of something to add to this discussion. But mostly, I just think it thought provoking, so enjoy, and analyze for yourself.

It's not like anyone is paying me to do this. ;)

For those wondering why I refuse to work in government

Stephen Walt today points out The Ten Commandments for Ambitious Policy Wonks, which basically sum up why I have no interest in working in the U.S. foreign policy community. Of the 10, I can only safely obey number 2 and 8. Thus, I'll stick to liberal hippie peacenik stuff, thank you very much. Sure, I may never make much money, but at least I'll have values.

Open letter to Prince Gomolvilas: You corrupted me

(As emailed to the above named recipient.)

Dear Mr. Gomolvilas (if that's your real name):

This evening, I found myself glued to my computer for approximately 96 minutes while watching the entirety of one High School Musical. This is your fault, and I blame you totally. Your little teenage obsession finally wiggled its way into my otherwise respectable head.

This afternoon, I was sitting in the National Cathedral soaking in beautifully illuminated rose windows while listening to works commemorating the life of Abraham Lincoln composed by some of the greatest American music geniuses of the last century. Sam Waterston narrated one piece. Sam Fucking Waterston. These works were gorgeous. The culminating piece was Hindemith's setting of Walt Whitman's "When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom'd." A poem inspired by Lincoln's death set to music driven by the death of FDR and millions in the Holocaust. The baritone soloist was Asian, for God's sake, so you would be proud.

And where did I end up this evening? Watching High School Musical with Zac Fucking Efron. Zac Fucking Efron. I was casually searching for a movie to watch online, as this afternoon's entertainment had been a touch... heavy... and doing more reading on nonviolence theory just wasn't appealing to me, even though I need to get it done so that I can continue my God-given mission of changing this fucking shithole planet into something more bearable for us all. And what popped up under musicals, but High School Musical. High. School. Fucking. Musical.

And I watched it. And maybe I even liked it a little. And maybe I got a little bit misty at one part, and perhaps might have shed a single fucking tear. And maybe the gay one was a little endearing, with his cute shirts and all. All while my rabbit mocked me. See?!?! I was mocked by an animal whose brain is the size of a shelled pecan. And it's your fault. It's all your fault. And worse yet, there are still still two fucking more of these fucking endearing little fucking Disney gems left. And I'll probably watch them. And I blame you for corrupting me.

By now, you're probably sitting at your little desk laughing your ass off with your big beast of a cat. You're probably even wanting to repost this on your silly little blog. But I won't let you have the best of me, mon Prince. You may have corrupted me, but you shall not take my dignity.

Yours sincerely,

Jason A. Terry, M.A.

P.S. Watch this, you perv.

Trip to the Arboretum

I took a field trip to the Arboretum yesterday! It was my first time venturing there. Not a lot was in bloom, but I checked out the Asian collection, as well as the dwarf conifers (I could totally dork out over dwarf conifers if given the chance). It also seemed like a good place to practice riding my rarely used bike that my better half so lovingly assembled for me. Anyway, a few photos, to prove that I'm alive. These include shots of the old Capitol columns, a couple of random things, and a (broken, of course) fire hydrant in its native habitat.

P.S. Sorry for, you know, skipping February. Late January/early February got consumed with moving to a new physical headquarters for this here blog, and getting things set up, and unpacking my library, and Ikea runs, and all that. I've sung this song before, but I'm gonna try to do better. :)

Another day, another president

This morning I joined the throng on the Mall to see the Inauguration. So glad I went! I left the apartment at about 8:45 and headed south down 16th Street. At New Hampshire, I cut over to 17th and took that to Farragut Square, at which point the crowds started getting exceptionally heavy. As I made to to H Street, I looked east and saw a huge mass of people that spanned several blocks. We shuffled over to 18th and continued south towards the Mall. Once there, I noticed plenty of space on the hill around the Washington Monument, so I bee-lined it over there. Everything was relatively painless, except that the way the port-a-potties were arrayed caused the flow of people to bottleneck in places.

I attempted to get to the east side of the monument, so I could at least see the Capitol, even if I couldn't tell what was going on there. The crowd was too dense though, so I moved back to the north side from whence I came, and adopted a jumbotron.

My adopted jumbotron

At that point (about 9:30 or so), crowds were already stretching to the Lincoln Memorial, and all the space east of the monument looked totally full (which, apparently, it was). Once in my selected spot, I began to slowly freeze, but at least the folks around me were entertaining. Everyone was in exceptionally good spirits, and there were people from all walks of life. I heard at least 4 or 5 different languages spoken, and saw prim ladies in mink coats chatting it up with random folks in sweat pants. And, though I may be the only person in the blogosphere to say this, I thought the pieces by the San Francisco Boys and Girls Choruses were very good (yay choir kids!). Then all the dignitaries started being seated. It was funny because you could pick up little bits of their conversations over the loudspeaker -- must've been some very hot mics on that platform. Ted Kennedy, Al Gore, Jimmy Carter, and the Clintons all got big cheers. George Bush's last official greeting from the American people, however, was a two-million-person boo.

As an aside, if you've never heard two million people clapping, it sounds kind of like a dinosaur walking around.

Then it was time for the stars of the show. Big cheers for Malia and Sasha! And Michelle Obama looked absolutely regal! And when Barack Obama walked on, imagine the sound of several really hungry dinosaurs running after the only chicken this side of the Mississippi. You could probably hear it from space.

Dianne Feinstein gave good remarks, I thought. The Rick Warren thing wasn't so much offensive as it was awkward, with some folks around me reminding him that the compassionate God he invoked really was loving and compassionate towards all people (plus, Sasha apparently equals "Mufasa, Mufasa, Mufasa!"). Aretha Franklin was stunning, of course, and I'm in love with her hat, which DCist described as "Sporting the Queen of Bows on the Queen of all Hats" Joe from Scranton was then duly sworn in, followed by that John Williams number that I simply must get a recording of.

Then there was, of course, Obama's swearing in, complete with fumbled oath of office, thanks to the Chief Justice.

And then there was the speech. An incredible, pitch-perfect speech. Well played, sir.

The crowded disappated quickly after the speech was over, but I stuck around (though was knocked a few feet back), and chatted with a cute slightly older couple decked out in matching bright neon British police jackets. These gentlemen had taken it upon themselves to stand over a rather massive hole in the ground for most of the morning, to prevent others from falling in it. They were hilarious. We got to hear the upbeat and perhaps quasi-ridiculous benediction, and then I started the long trek home.

And yes, it was a trek. I hung around for a bit snapping a few more bad photos, and then proceeded toward the port-a-potty bottleneck once more. Apparently, some brilliant planner decided to bring in all the military folks for the parade via bus down Consitution Avenue right as the main shindig was ending. The crowd I was in decided we should cut off the Air Force, and so it was. There was then the slow shuffle back up 18th Street to I Street, where I finally was able to break free from the herd. I was fortunate enough to find a warm bus headed towards my place, so that concluded the mission, successfully accomplished.

A final word on Obama's economic stimulus plans: T-shirt, button, and other swag makers the world over are making a killing off this event. I'm fully expecting to see Barack Obama's face on every flat surface in town when I head to work in the morning.

And, because I'm a dirty hippie, I leave you with this photo of the signs some of my fellow speech watchers were carrying. Peace out.

EDIT: I forgot to add that as part of my dorkiness, I checked out the new WhiteHouse.gov page. I was surprised by the good stuff found on the civil rights page, and I welcome the new blog.

EDIT x2: I also forgot to mention that I was walking off the Mall as Bush's helicopter took off. I shouted up "Go back to Texas and don't ever come back!" and some lady behind me shouted some sort of general agreement, and then we had a good hearty chuckle.

Who knew clean water could be so easy?

This little tidbit yesterday caught my eye. Apparently scientists in Switzerland have discovered that you can get clean, drinkable water by simply sticking it in a bottle outside.

Ok, there's more to it than that. The bottle has to be clean, clear plastic, no larger than three liters. It needs lots of sunlight and heat, which can be enhanced by setting the bottle on a sheet of corrugated iron, steel or aluminum. The variable then is the amount of sun the bottle catches. The process can take anywhere from six to 48 hours.

Nonetheless, a fascinating development for development.

100th post: now home to the "smurfs thesis communist doctrine"

That, friends, is how one lucky googler came across this very blog, and bless their little souls for getting here this way. Now, I'm not sure which post(s) they may have read when they landed here, as I don't recall ever having written each of those four words in any one post. I know I've written about each of those words in separate posts. Anyway, perhaps this blog, when taken as a sum of its parts, reveals the deeper meaning behind the Smurfs Thesis Communist Doctrine. If so, trust me that I didn't intend it that way.

I'm not even sure what the Smurfs Thesis Communist Doctrine is. But that's the kind of quality scholarship you'll find here at Is that a gavel in your pants?

[FYI, I googled that phrase myself, and this blog didn't pop up within the first 8 pages of results, which is my usual stopping place for more obscure things, so I'm now especially intrigued at how hard one must have to work to make the link between this site and that phrase.]

Anyway, on this particularly goofy note, allow me to celebrate my 100th post. Look for more drivel to come.

Back on topic

I was looking over my most recent entries last night, and realized that I've moved incredibly away from my original focus, which is international post-conflict... stuff. Anyway, let's get back to that with a little humor. You may have seen it before, but now you can enjoy it again.

Assistance, SVP

I need to learn a bit about micro-finance and micro-business stuff. Not a whole big thing, just a few cases or exemplary works that would help me get a grasp of the subject. If there is a case of a micro-enterprise project in a refugee setting, that would be especially helpful. Thus I'm asking you, my loyal readers, for suggestions of books or articles that might be useful.

As background, I've been asked to advice to a few people I used to work with at the Buduburam Camp in Ghana, as they start a new micro-business initiative. As this isn't really my field, I'm looking for some guidance. If you know of something good, drop me a comment.

Thanks!

Long lost twins

I was blog reading earlier today, and I saw two things that struck me in whole new ways. The first was a photo of Harriet Miers, and the second was a photo of the late and fabulous Tammy Faye Bakker. I thought to myself, "Hmm... they look strikingly similar." Then I thought, "Yes! Big hair! Fake eyelashes! Eyeliner mishaps!"

That's right kids, Harriet Miers and Tammy Faye Bakker bear a striking resemblance to each other.

Behold the evidence:

Would-be Supreme Court Justice Harriet Miers with her cowboy husband.

Tammy Faye Bakker with her "Jesus saves! (your money for me)" husband.

As an added bonus, not only do they look similarly silly, but they both enjoy the company of slimy bastards that like to fuck people over.

There you have it kids, my revelation of the day.

Happy Independence Day! Please leave your explosives at the door

So it's the anniversary of when we declared the independence of the nation we stole from other people. To mark this splendid occasion, Her Majesty's Government of the country that used to lord over us till we made their last Prime Minister a poodle has announced that it will maybe begin the process of developing a bill of rights, if people sort of want one.

See, America's not all bad.

I think Time missed a few

I was browsing Time's list of the world's 100 most influential people, and I couldn't help notice a gap. In the "scientists and thinkers" section, I counted only two non-scientists, one of whom was Al Gore. If they're going to do that, why not just name it the scientists section, and move on? I don't mean to discount the work of the individuals who made the list in that category. Each seemed to be engaged in incredibly remarkable work that will have a lasting impact in the world. Yet I wonder about how we value the hard sciences over other disciplines.

It seems (and I read about or watched something on this somewhere, but who knows what or when) that our society places a huge value on the sciences over and above other academic pursuits. Maybe it's because scientists often talk about things that most of us can't grasp, and thus we just assume they're smarter. But what about in other fields?

There are the historians who uncover new information about times long past, and thereby change our perception of our historical narrative. There are the anthropologists who help us to understand how our cultures function and how various dynamics swirl all around us. There are religious scholars and philosophers who explore the world's burning and potentially eternal questions with the same vigor as their scientists colleagues. There are political scientists who help us conceive of new concepts aimed at ensuring that our common humanity is respected and revered within the global community. There are writers, artists and musicians who craft their works in ways that move us. There are the peace scholars who show us how our world can grow, change, and be better for us all.

All of these endeavors are just as important as scientific studies, and, some of the resulting concepts are just as difficult for newcomers to grasp. This work should be recognized, valued and celebrated just as much as the sciences. Understanding our world is far too complex a task to be left to just a handful of disciplines. It's a common journey that requires an array of approaches in the hopes that maybe, just one day, we'll figure it out.