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Cold, Dead Hands

I often find myself defending the American way of life to my European boyfriend – not out of patriotism, but out of my unflagging argumentative nature. I’ve defended ridiculous American hallmarks like heaping portion sizes, astronomical health care costs, cops who make 150k/year from overtime pay, rap music, local television news, fork switching, farm subsidies, and general apathy about world affairs. I love a good debate, even if that means arguing that being lazy, ill-mannered, and stupid are inalienable human rights.

And then, there’s gun control, the issue that turned me from the Devil’s advocate into the Devil herself. I used to agree that guns were too pervasive in America, that citizens should submit to gun control laws and surrender their arms in the interest of public safety. But as I explained the rationale behind the NRA’s steadfast commitment to the right to bear arms, I found myself agreeing with the notion that, even in these modern times, the Second Amendment still applies.

Yes, I believe law-abiding citizens have a demonstrable need for personal protection. I believe that the people have the right to violently overthrow a government if necessary. I believe that stringent gun laws create a black market, making it easier for criminals to buy guns. I believe it all, in theory.

It’s a hard thing to believe, sometimes. In the wake of the horrific shooting at Virginia Tech, my convictions are indefensible against so much terror, grief, and 33 bodies. I hope tonight’s dinner conversation doesn’t linger on gun control policy, because I will lose the debate.

On a side note, I can’t believe that it was an English Major. People who willingly study English literature and creative writing would not seem capable of vengeful killing sprees. We are usually adept at taking the future’s bleakness for granted and other people’s cruelties in stride.

Posted in In the News.

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Marathon Monday: Report from Mile 8

Fears surrounding the Boston Marathon weather usually concern excessive heat, but this year, runners battled gale force winds and sub-40 degree temperatures. Boy, I’m glad this wasn’t the year I decided to run another marathon in a qualifying time of 3 hours and 40 minutes so that I could run the Boston Marathon. Maybe next year.

Yesterday, when the media talked up the storm, many runners were unfazed. Cocky, even. Some maniacs even expressed excitement. “It adds a whole new dimension to the Marathon,” one said. One woman from California admitted she had never seen a Nor’easter. “Rain, wind, cold,” she said, a slight smile on her lips as if to say what else you got? “I know adverse conditions,” scoffed Olympic Bronze medalist Deena Kastor, who was born in Waltham, MA. “I’ve gotten in training runs in snowy, windy conditions and in the rain”.

Luckily for them, the worst of the storm passed through early Monday morning. I was awakened at 5:15am by wind-driven rain rattling my windows like it wanted to get in. But by the time the elites passed Mile 8 in Natick, the rain had stopped and the wind subsided. Still, out of the 25,000 runners who flew past me in a cavalcade of footfalls and body odor, the only person who looked happy about the chilly weather was the man wearing a full-length cow outfit.

Below are the leading women at Mile 8. Combined, they have less total body fat than my right thigh. Number 6 in the blue shorts is the ultimate winner, Lidiya Grigoryeva of Russia. Deena Kastor, who finished 5th, is number 3. I *believe* the woman on the far left is Madai Perez of Mexico (finished 3rd) and the woman in front of her is Jelena Prokopcuka of Latvia (finished 2nd).

Below are the leading men at Mile 8. I took this picture not realizing that these two Kenyans were rabbits, whose job it is to set a fast pace for the leaders. Neither finished, but at this point they were minutes ahead of the pack of elite men, including fellow Kenyan and ultimate winner Robert Cheruiyot, who won for the 3rd year, with a time seven minutes slower than last year. The wind and cold did take a toll.

Posted in In the News, Massachusetts.

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Viva la Revolution

Last night, Gillette stadium in Foxboro, MA played host to a soccer double-header. First, the US Women’s National team kicked the crap out of Mexico’s women, winning 5-0. Then the New England Revolution played their home opener against Toronto FC, the newest addition to Major League Soccer. The Revolution won 4-0. Although the outcome of both games proved victorious for America, it flagrantly violated the trilateral stipulations of NAFTA.

The air was rift with calls for “Revolution! Revolution!” Spurred by the sporadic shotgun blasts of the mascot brigade (pictured below, holding flags), the largely young and entirely white crowd tossed flares, staves, firecrackers, stones, and stadium seats at the red uniformed Toronto FC players. After the Revolution’s third goal, a posse of teenaged girls wearing identical Chelmsford Youth Soccer jackets lead a celebratory pitch invasion onto the field. Some of them attacked the opposing team with knives, while others sought to violently embrace Revolution heartthrobs like Taylor Twellman and Jeff Larentowicz.

The Toronto FC fans (pictured below) proved to be a small but feisty bunch. They sang songs and chanted even as their team bore out just how ineffectual they were. We took pictures so that we could identify them in the parking lot after the game, and then rough them up real good for holding allegiance to a team that is not the Revolution. After the effigy-burning of David Beckham, the cops descended with tear gas and batons. Major League Soccer ain’t for pansies.

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Artful Dodgers

Bush Administration mouthpiece Tony Snow — who doesn’t know, will find out, will rephrase previously stated information, or just won’t play that ‘hindsight’ game — has been absent from his post for about a month while being treated for a recurrence of cancer.

In his absence, the daily press corps wrangling is being handled by his Deputy Dana Perino, a 34 year-old fast-talking bobbed-blonde. Her brief tenure has seen exemplary Bush controversies like the Scooter Libby verdict, the Walter Reed scandal, the US Attorney firings, and continuing societal chaos in Iraq (here for all the press briefings and gaggles ).

Given all that she’s had to deal with, I am impressed with Perino. She’s got a grace and humor that mitigates the frustration of her feigned ignorance. And instead of avoiding meaningful engagement by endlessly repeating the same snide official party line with slight variation, she says flat out: I’m not going to speculate on a wildly hypothetical situation at this time. I’m not going to comment on it. I just really don’t have any more information. I just don’t have a clue. And if she’s feeling generous, I believe that that would have been within the realm of possibility. Her upfront manner of bullshitting is quite refreshing.

Posted in In the News.

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God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut

Even though he was 84, the news of Kurt Vonnegut’s passing surprised and saddened me.

It goes without saying that I am a stalwart Kurt Vonnegut fan. I voraciously consumed all his books as a teenager. The way he blended fiction, philosophy, and humor knocked me out. I always wanted to write exactly like him. I still do.

“We are healthy only to the extent that our ideas are humane.”
(Kilgore Trout’s epitaph in Breakfast of Champions)

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Coup d’etat

Not to distract my mainly-American audience from our upcoming election – I know it’s only one year and seven months away – but the French presidential election is in 10 days. Despite not having lived in France in over ten years, Mr. Pinault is gearing up to cast his vote, though like a surprising number of French, he can’t decide which of the four leading candidates is most palatable.

There’s front-runner conservative Nicolas Sarkozy; glamorous gaffe-prone Socialist Segolene Royal; the ‘third man’ Francois Bayrou; and Jean-Marie Le Pen, an elderly far-right racist. It’s like staring at a cheese platter stacked with oily, processed, rancid cheese, and whichever cheese you pick, you have to eat every day for the next five years. Sacre bleu!

Many French are tempted to strategize instead of just voting who they like, because if no candidate wins 50% of the vote on April 22 – which seems likely – there is a round 2 election for the top two candidates. Last election, it was Chirac versus Le Pen, a scenario which horrified liberal France. (Think Bush versus Pat Buchanan. Who would you vote for?)

Le Pen doesn’t seem likely to make it to the round 2 this year. As the election nears, voters are shying away from extreme candidates and favoring Francois Bayrou, a former Education minister who has adopted the persona of a farmer, and who I think looks like an older David Duchovny. But I can’t believe the French would elect a candidate who doesn’t allow them to be constantly outraged.

Posted in In the News.

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Deriding the Bus

The MBTA has launched a new program to entice more people to ride buses. But who needs vehicle or service improvements when there’s already this great bus system just sitting there, undiscovered. People just need to be encouraged to give it a try with innovations like… “new maps, schedules, and signs at 10 stations pointing out bus stops.” Maps, schedules (!) and signs… who’s the renegade thinker at the MBTA?

My history with the MBTA bus system is not very storied. I’ve taken several bus lines semi-regularly, but I never let my commute depend on a bus, for the simple reason that taking an MBTA bus is the most stressful form of transportation I’ve every experienced. The typical MBTA bus ride consists of standing in an aisle and being inadvertently molested ever time the bus suddenly breaks, surrounded by screaming groups of teenagers and smelly homeless men, at the mercy of a road-rage-prone driver who valiantly tries to stay on schedule despite non-yielding, rush-hour traffic. It’s a Third World experience. It’s worse than driving, worse than flying, worse than taking an Amtrak regional train. The only faster way to a heart attack is a steadfast diet of canned coup, cigarettes, and Crisco.

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Walking the Walk

In a bid to remind politicians that the typical American actually works for a living, a union for health care workers has invited all of the 2008 Presidential candidates to take part in the “Walk a Day in My Shoes” program.Yesterday John Edwards became the first candidate to take advantage of this prime publicity opportunity when he worked a shift alongside a $14-an-hour health care aid. Reportedly, Edwards found his slip-resistant, arch-supporting shoes to be quite comfortable.

Though there’s no doubt about Edwards’ motivations (Crown me thy populist!), the health care worker with whom he toiled seemed a little unclear on the concept, not realizing that she was the Poor Unfortunate that Edwards sought to bond with. Instead, the health care worker saw it as a chance to “educate the people who want to make decisions in the White House about what to do when they talk about health care.”

It may be naive to assert that America’s public health crisis can be solved by making politicans work in nursing homes, but in one 8-hour shift, John Edwards did more for health care than George W. Bush has in the past 6 years. Perhaps Bush should have tried serving breakfast and changing bed pans instead of cutting critical funding to Medicare and Medicaid, ignoring the growing numbers of uninsured, and opposing stem cell research. And dare I mention the war amputees? Is it too late to get Bush to walk a day in their shoes?

Posted in In the News.

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Typo of the Day

“Workslows” instead of “Workflows”, as in “[Product Name] maximizes a user’s efficiency with highly customizable workslows.” Thank goodness for spell check, or the Marketing department would’ve had my head.

Posted in The 9 to 5.

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Uber-Model Material

America’s Next Top Model held a casting call today in Boston for “ingenues who believe they’re uber-model material”. With the glowing remnant of a Floridian tan, freshly-tweezed eyebrows, and a scant two weeks of root growth on my head, well, let’s just say the planets are aligned. Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed about being a model. I can’t sit another day in my cubicle, writing software documentation, knowing that I haven’t given the high-stress, high-stakes world of top modeling my best shot.

But when I downloaded the eligibility requirements and 15-paged application, I discovered that only women ages 18 to 27 years are allowed to be America’s Top Model. How utterly unfair. I’m sure the casting call will be filled with women who may be chronologically younger than me, but much, much uglier.

I am duly crestfallen, but at least I didn’t start filling out the 15-paged application, which asks an encyclopedic range of personal questions like “How often do you get drunk?” “When was the last time you hit, punched, kicked, or threw something in anger?” “Have you ever been to a nude beach?” “If you could hold any political office, what would it be and why?”

(Can you imagine the political ambitions of America’s Next Top Model candidates? I bet 70% of them say “President,” simply because that’s the only political office they are sure about. 15% will offer a hodgepodge of legitimate positions like “mayor” and “school board member,” while the remaining 15% will write inappropriate things like “television reporter,” “personal shopper,” “school principal,” and “princess.”)

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