Techonomics

Thanks to the guys at Technorama for finding this gem ...

Freudian, perhaps?

DISCLAIMER: While this post primarily picks on a single candidate in the current presidential campaign, I am not making any statements in favor of or against any candidate. This is commentary about the public actions of a public figure, not campaign promotion.

Given enough time, I will do my best to pick on all the candidates to the fullest extent possible.

Senator Hillary Clinton unleashed her Super-Dooper-Mega-Galactic-Mondo-Prima-Ultra-Wonder Tuesday ads upon the defenseless electorate recently and, in doing so, made a stunning admission.

The ad, seen here (at least until the campaign pulls the ad from You-Tube), is the standard run-of-the-mill political bit. About 22 seconds in (for those Hillary haters who can't bear to watch the whole thing, just drag the slider about three quarters of the way across), Hillary describes the various roles she has filled in the American political process.

In her words, she has been "a public servant, an activist, and now, a senator".

Did you cringe?

For those who didn't (or for those aforementioned haters who were too busy cringing about Hillary in general and missed the subtlety), Hillary has just announced that she is no longer a public servant; she is now a senator.

To be fair, Hillary is not the only politician to get confused about the role of government – and, by extension, members of the government – in a democracy. It's a misconception that has plagued politicians for as long as there have been democracies. Lately, however, campaign managers have been savvy enough to a) keep their subjects sufficiently well heeled so as to reduce the risk that the candidate might blurt out their real opinions before the votes are cast, and b) take whatever steps necessary to bury, deflect, diffuse, or distract attention from such gaffes whenever they occur.

(At least until they get into office. At that point, all bets are off. Previous office holders were kind enough to leave behind a process that makes it tremendously hard to lose your office, no matter how incompetent you may prove to be.)

The Clinton campaign put this statement in the closing of an advertisement designed for Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Tuesday, the make-or-break day in the presidential primaries. An ad! That they paid for!

The United States of America is a republic. We are a representative democracy. Take special note of that word: "representative".

To borrow from a certain animated ogre, our government is like an onion; it has many layers (and often brings us to tears).

It is comprised of elected officials, appointed officials, and, of course, a whole bunch of government employees. This is just as true at the federal level as it is at the state and local level. It is easy for the average person to consider many government employees as "public servants". Trash collectors, firemen, and police officers, for example, serve the public very visibly. Soldiers serve the public. The Department of Motor Vehicles employees serve the ... well, they are supposed to serve the public.

(And, of course, the IRS serves the public, albeit on a platter.)

It should not be lost on anyone, though, that the "officials" – both appointed and elected – are also public servants. They are representatives of The People, chosen by The People (or the by the people chosen by The People) to manage the government, which itself exists to serve - not to rule - The People.

Unfortunately, the current administration disagrees, as does the party leadership on both sides of the aisle. The Republican and Democratic overlords have demonstrated through their actions in the White House and Congress (and in many governors' mansions, mayor's offices, and state and local legislatures nationwide) that while they certainly serve some people, they don't serve The People. But most of those same politicians at least pay enough lip service to public service during the campaigns to convince the voters that they are, at minimum, the lesser of the two evils on the ballot.

Representatives and senators do have a leadership role within the government, but since the government exists to serve The People, the Capitol Hillbillies' role in America is to flip the switches, turn the knobs, and pull the levers on the largest public service machine in the country. As the CEO of a multi-trillion dollar organization, the President has power. However, as a democratically elected leader (s)he does not own that power. The power comes with the office and the office is owned by The People.

The role of the President is not Public Leader, it is Head Servant. (And the previous president delegated that role to an intern!)

Regrettably, it seems that not only did Senator Clinton's statement make it out of her campaign headquarters unnoticed; it seemingly failed to attract scrutiny from the media and, at the time of this writing, hasn't seemed to cause much of a stir amongst the people. It may be that the public isn't paying much attention or is already suffering from campaign fatigue. Or it may be that people just don't know any better.

One could easily argue that the statement itself is innocuous. It sounds like it was part of a speech, and on the stump politicians often stumble through words. Petty bickering over grammatical technicalities from live public speaking events is futile, for there are too many opportunities for inadvertent slips of the tongue. Those gaffes are legitimate fodder for mockery, not serious debate.

But again, this was an ad … that they paid for.

After careful consideration, after paying for the production process, after getting their choice of words, footage, backdrops, message, etc., these are the words they chose to share with the voters.

I was a public servant, now I am a senator.

Also of interest:

The campaign also released their Spanish language ad Neustra Amiga, which embraces the stereotypical notion that if you are going to advertise to Spanish-speaking viewers, you must deliver your message in the form of a telenovela promo.

Spoiler Alert: Blue Wins

The Civil War, presented in a manner suitable to our current ADD generation.

Air Farce One

My son has taken to flying.

The big Christmas gift of the year was the Estes remote control Air Force One. It has a three-and-a-half foot wingspan and supposedly can fly over 1000 feet. I say "supposedly" because until this past weekend, we didn't realize the tremendous advantage that throwing the plane up would make.

(Yeah, I know ... it seems obvious in retrospect. But to be fair, the launch system involves an elastic cord and a spike that anchors into the ground. An upward throw didn't seem right at first.)

So this time out, we threw up. (As would anyone who was riding in that plane.)

The plane is made out of Styrofoam, so it is somewhat protected in the event of a crash. That is fortunate, because we crashed that plane over and over again. And it wasn't only cartwheel-type crashes in the grass, Alex managed to hit three different goal soccer goal posts, a chain link fence, and he almost had a perfect landing on the bleachers (save for the collision into the metal support that knocked off two engines and the tail).

Good flight, not-so-good landing

If these trial runs are any indication, my son will not be piloting the real Air Force One anytime soon. Landing after painful, high impact landing, he managed to knock off the President, Vice President, Speaker of the House, President Pro Tempura, Secretary of State, and so on throughout the line of succession.

Were it not for the fact that the batteries finally ran out, we were one flight away from inaugurating Raul, the White House gardener, as the next ruler of the free world.

And wouldn't that have made that whole fence-across-America thing look ridiculous!

Somebody's special day

Today is somebody's special day ...

Yep, today is a special day for 49ers fans everywhere!

Today marks the 19th anniversary of Super Bowl XXIII, the classic game in which Joe Montana led the San Francisco 49ers 92 yards in the waning minutes before throwing a pass directly through the hearts and the defense of the Cincinnati Bengals. The touchdown-scoring throw ended up in the hands of receiver John Taylor and put the 49ers up 20-16 with just 34 seconds left in the game. The Bengals failed to put together a last-ditch miracle drive of their own, thus falling short of their mission to avenge their previous defeat to those same 49ers just IV years earlier in Super Bowl XIX.

Oh, and it's also Alaska Jen's birthday.

Congratulations '9ers fans, and happy birthday, Alaska Jen.

Shouts of the regular kind

As I previously mentioned in the post you are most likely to read after this one, I am watching the Giants-Packers playoff game. It is now between the third and fourth quarters, and the Giants have a 3 point lead.

As a huge, huge (you should see my waistline) Giants fan, I am in the midst of an emotional roller coaster right now. This will either be the best or most painful day I've had in a while.

Either way, I suspect that by the end of the game I will have a whole load of wooden nickels in my underbritches.

UPDATE: 2:48 remaining, the Giants just punted to Green Bay, and the score is tied.

Also, I found a wooden quarter.

UPDATE II: 0:00 remaining, the Giants just missed a field goal, the game is in overtime.

I have a new wooden coin collection.

UPDATE III: SUPERBOWL!!!!!!!

Giants 23, Packers 20 (OT)

Shout-Outs

So, while I'm watching my beloved New York Giants take on the Packers, the -2 degree weather, and the officiating crew, I figured I'd take this moment to shamelessly promote ...

ME!

Yes, I know this belongs squarely within the realm of meaningless accomplishments, but for the first time ever I have been mentioned in a podcast!

No, I am not one of people hitting someone with sticks (or one of those getting hit by the sticks); I gave Short Cummings Audio a really good review on iTunes and he gave me an on-cast thanks. This simple act by a podcaster demonstrates how it doesn't take much to make the world a better place. Be nice to others, be gracious, be respectful ... it's not hard at all and it makes such a difference in these rough and tumble times.

I tell ya, people should thank me more often!

Cellph Destruct

I have a truly good, positive, heartwarming post in the works about my day today, which itself was very good and positive and heartwarming. But there was an event that occurred in the midst of all the good, positive, heartwarming stuff that was in no way good, positive, or heartwarming ... but I can't help sharing it with you anyways.

CONTENT ADVISORY
This post is rated "I" for crass, sophomoric, and off-color subject matter. It is intended for immature audiences only.

Now, I normally wouldn't write about this type of event, but this is a special circumstance. I got a chance to make a total stranger truly, truly regret using his cell phone in an environment in which no cell phone should ever be used.

It all started with a buffet table.

Actually, it was something on the buffet table. That something wound up on my plate and, as often happens with things that wind up on my plate, it soon found itself in my stomach.

Unfortunately, whatever it was, it didn't feel like staying there.

Like most buffet tables, this one was stationed at a public event. Coincidentally, I found myself in need of a public restroom. I proceeded with great haste to the only stall suitable for such use, closed the door, and braced for the worst.

I usually try to maintain a reasonable degree of self-consciousness about public restrooms. I don't start idle chit-chat with the guy in the next stall, I don't whistle, sing, hum, or any other noisy time-passers, and I certainly try to avoid producing any gratuitous audible evidence of the nature of my business.

This time I didn't have that option.

So when I heard the guy walk into the bathroom, I felt a moderate degree of chagrin for subjecting him to conditions specifically outlined in the Geneva Conventions. That is, until I realized he was talking on his cell phone!

At that point, I felt it was my dooty (get it?) to teach this man a lesson in cell phone etiquette. And fortunately I was uniquely prepared to present this instruction.

I don't know why, but for some reason public restrooms seem specifically designed for acoustic amplification. That said, between the tiles and the porcelain, my gastronomical discomfort resulted in decibel levels comparable to those found NASA launch pads or teenagers' car stereos.

Yes, I was a sub-woofer.

As I was safely positioned behind the solid partitions, he could not see me smiling. I could hear in his voice that he was regretting his choice of venues for this particular phone call. I'm quite certain the party on the other line got wind (so to speak) of where he was. I think deaf people could have heard me.

But the simple joy I felt from being able to teach someone such an important life lesson turned to outright satisfaction when I heard him bring his call to an end. His final four words indicated that he probably chose the wrong person to inadvertently subject to my malharmonious melody.

"I love you, honey."

And being the nice guy I am, I helped him end his call on a high note!

He's the Manning!

Archie's boys shocked the football world Sunday.

The oft-heralded elder son Peyton Manning and his Indianapolis Colts fell to the visiting San Diego Chargers, thus canceling the much anticipated rematch between the Colts and the New England Patriots in the AFC Championship Game next week. In Texas about three hours later, the oft-maligned younger son Eli and his New York Giants upended the Dallas Cowboys 21-17.

Yes, that means that the Giants are going to the NFC Championship Game for the first time since 2000, when they shut out the Minnesota Vikings 41-0. As NFL Network's Rich Eisen noted, to almost everyone's surprise, Eli is "the last Manning standing."

Next Sunday the G-Men take on men with the G's; they head off to the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field to face Brett Favre for a long, long overdue chance and avenging the NFL Title game losses to the Green Bay Packers in 1944, 1961, and 1962!

(Those last two were the most painful, as Big Blue first got shut out 37-0 in cheese country, then almost got shut out again the following year at Yankee Stadium. Their only score in the 16-7 loss came from a Packer punt which they blocked and recovered in the end zone.)

It has now been 69 years since the Giants beat the Packers in the playoffs. But before the Spirit of '38 fever grips the Big Blue faithful, there a few things left to savor from yesterday. For example, T. "Terrell Owens" O. cried in the post-game interviews! (One Cowboys fan I know showed me the gift he got today from his anti-Cowboys co-workers -- a tissue box decorated with T.O. pictures.)

And did you see that look on Cowboys owner Jerry Jones' face when R.W. McQuarters picked off Tony Romo's pass in the end zone with nine seconds remaining to squash the Cowboys' final hopes? He looked like he was in the middle of a lemon and Tabasco enema. Eagles fans have actually been nice to me today! (The enemy of my enemy ...)

We'll see what next week brings. Farve is having a storybook season. Until then, I'm just livin' the dream!

Theo-illogical

I'm all about impressing my pastor.

There's a group of guys in my church who meet one morning each month with the pastor for breakfast and Bible study. Having been lured with the promise of free food, I accepted their invitation to join them this week. We enjoyed bacon, eggs, and the Baptism of Jesus.

One of the many asides in our discussion was about the presence, or lack thereof, of Joseph in the latter parts of the Gospel. He's obviously a big part of the story in the beginning of the New Testament, but after the manger scene and the arrival of the wise guys, you never hear about him again, save for a cameo appearance at the Temple when the preteen J.C. began his rabbiing.

Biblical scholars believe that the lack of mention of Joseph beyond this point indicates that he died while Jesus was a teenager. If that was indeed the case, as first-born son, J.C. would have the responsibility to care for the other children in the home until they were old enough to care for themselves, which may explain why he held off on the whole Messiah thing until he was 30.

That there were other children in the house led to our aside from the aside. You see, we Protestants are of the belief that after the whole inn thing, Joseph and Mary went on to bear children the old fashioned way. As such, we feel the brothers and sisters mentioned in the Bible where the real brothers and sisters of Jesus.

(Well, half-brothers and half-sisters, as it were.)

Pastor mentioned that Catholics hold to the premise that the Blessed Virgin Mary remained both Blessed and a virgin throughout her days. Those brothers and sisters, say the Catholics, were actually cousins who lived with Aunt Mary and Uncle Joe.

I figured this was the time to add my thoughts into the great theological debate; to join the ranks of the storied biblical scholars like ... well, like whoever those storied biblical scholars might be.

"This is twelve years later, the cousins were living in the home, and Mary was still a virgin?" I asked.

Pastor nodded.

"Well maybe that's why we don't hear any more about Joseph," I said.

We'll see if I am invited to next month's Bible study ...

It’s Podcastic

When it comes to hand-me-downs, I have little shame.

(Yeah, yeah … I have notable shame deficiencies in other areas, too; but those are fodder for other postings.)

I drive an inherited car. I compute on hand-me-down computers. I read hand-me-down books. I wear some hand-me-down clothes. (I tell hand-me-down jokes ...)

Yet every handed-down item is, by definition, comprised of one hundred percent post-consumer recycled content. The hand-me-down market turns one man's refuse into another man's treasure. The discarded items of those who stay on the cutting edge wind up not in the dumpster, but instead in the hands of us less discriminatory folks who can continue to extract value today from yesterday's goods.

As such, in these more environmentally conscious days, I can hold my head high and proudly state that my proclivity towards embracing the down-handed material good makes me the embodiment of positive stewardship of the earth's precious resources. It is quite satisfying to be part of the solution.

(Not that I am an environmentalist by any means; far from it. I am about as green as a stop sign. No, my satisfaction is drawn more from the relief that I no longer have to admit to being too broke and/or too cheap to buy the stuff myself.)

So when Ms N upgraded her iPod recently (she got the spiffy new one with the tiny screen and the irritating commercial), I became the very happy recipient of a hand-me-down iPod.

It fails to bother me in the least that both my fiancé and my daughter have much nicer and newer iPods than I, nor does it bug me that engraved into the back of my iPod are the words, "This is mine. – DevineMsN."

While I would like to have the newer model, I much prefer what little cash I have staying in my wallet for the time being. And I sincerely doubt I will ever be accused of stealing from Bette Nidler.

So at first, I limited my iPod activity to listening to the songs Ms N left behind. You know, the hand-me-downs. While I’m not quite the Prince fan she is, I happened to enjoy the other songs not found in my collection, like Apache from the Sugar Hill Gang and select songs from Big E. Smalls.

(Ain’t that right, Boo? True!)

Soon I (by which I mean Ms N) started loading on songs from my CD collection. Shortly afterwards, I (by which I mean me) realized that The Economist, my favorite magazine, had an audio version, which of course, could be played on the iPod.

(Yes, The Economist.)

(Would you believe I only get it for the pictorials?)

So I tried out the audio version ... and liked it! While I found the quaint British spelling quite amusing in the printed version, having it read aloud in that accent is absolutely smashing!

(And the fact that Robin Bew, Editorial Director and Chief Economist at the Economist Intelligence Unit, tends to sound a bit like Monty Python’s Terry Jones makes it that much better. I just love getting global economic forecasts from Mr. Creosote!)

Then I started looking around for other audio. Boy howdy, there is no shortage of this crap out there on the internets! And it's all too easy to subscribe, too. Before long, I found myself subscribing to 75 separate podcast feeds.

Yes, I am a Podophile.

If I were to listen to all the downloaded content I currently have on my computer, it would take four days – six if I wanted to sleep at all.

So with all this, I have some recommendations. For political discussion, there’s Left, Right & Center, from Santa Monica NPR affiliate KCRW. There is also the Washington Post's P3: Post Politics Podcast.

Paul Douglas Boyer's Mad Money Machine is a good investing show.

For business news, I stick with The Economist audio edition and The Wall Street Journal.

The Harvard Business Review's HBR IdeaCast (We’re ideating!) has some very interesting business discussion.

And of course, no Libertarian's day is complete without the Cato Daily Podcast.

In the mean time, I can't figure out which is sillier: The Official White House Weekly Radio Address or The Official Parody of the White House’s Weekly Radio Address.

(Perhaps Discurso Radial del Presidente ... You can't figure out what El Presidente is saying here, either, but at least there's a valid reason!)

(Then again, there’s the podcast for the President's dogs.)

(Yes, really.)

Of course, if you are not as excited by global economics, investing, and politics as I am, you may be more interested in Short Cummings Audio, a great collection of humorous essays written and read by Kevin Cummings. He is one of the funniest humorists I have seen in quite some time. (Imagine Dave Barry and Tom Bodett's love child.)

Bowl of Cheese, by Jeff Cutler, was another good find.

And what podcast library would be complete without the great works of comic genius John Cleese? (Much to my chagrin, thanks to this podcast I learned that for the past 20 years I have been pronouncing his name wrong. Turns out it rhymes with wheeze, not fleece.)

If you want more than this, don’t ask me ... Ask A Ninja!

(Just don’t go to Aks a Ninja … stupid fake sites!)

Ms N was taken aback by the speed at which I latched on to podcasting, but really it is just what I was looking for. For starters, I crave content. Like good ol' Number Five from the movie Short Circuit, I need input.

Unfortunately, carrying around all the magazines, newspapers, and such I would like to have gets to be a pain. Printing out pages from sites is not only wasteful, but creates quite the mess. The iPod, meanwhile, replenishes itself every time I plug it into my PC and fits nicely into my pocket, earphones and all.

That last feature provides one of the greatest benefits. As I head into the men's room for my morning constitutional, I've found that the iPod is as inconspicuous as the Wall Street Journal isn't!

'V' for Win

This afternoon in Tampa Bay, the New York Giants notched their first playoff victory since shutting out the Minnesota Vikings 41-0 in the NFC Championship Game!

(That would, of course, be the 2001 NFC Championship Game, which was shortly followed by Super Bowl XXXV, in which the Giants fell a mere four touchdowns short of beating the Baltimore Ravens.)

(That laughing you hear in the background is Ms N, who happens to be a fan of the Baltimore Ravens.)

Today’s final score: Giants 24, Buccaneers 14. In the immortal words of Daffy Duck: "Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo-hoo! Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!!"

Football is all about strategy, and the Giants employed an ingenious one, indeed. They upended the Buccaneers by reversing their regular game plan. Unlike most games, the G-Men began the game playing with ineptitude - ceding a 7 point lead to the pewter pirates - before letting everything inexplicably fall together. Three touchdowns and a field goal later, Big Blue hushed the hometown crowd. A late TD brought the swashbucklers within 10, but avast, the scurvy bilge rats found themselves cast o'erboard into the dark depths o' Davy Jones' locker.

(Special thanks to the folks at talklikeapirate.com for providing the vocab help.)

Now the Giants are goin' down to Big D, and I do mean Dallas. (All the country music fans in my audience will get that one.) The re-rematch is set!

This is where some of the jubilation turns to trepidation. The Cowpokes beat the visiting Giants in the season-opener, and then beat the Giants again almost three months later in the Jersey Meadowlands. That doesn't bode well for the boys in blue. But I have faith, hope, and, most importantly, an abundance of denial. So as I rest my head on whatever pillow Ms N decides not to hoard tonight, I have a happy thought.

It doesn't matter what happens in the first two games, so long as you win the third.