Dude gives his “libertarian democrat” version of Obama and gets dogged by purists in the discussion. Strange that he would use the example of health care and not Obama’s foreign policy. Remember, he is opposed to dumb wars, like most libertarians would be. Certainly the GOP minimal government apostasy (was it always just lip service?) has lesser-of-two-evils mainstream libertarian voters considering the democrats for once. Why not Obama? He’s certainly less statist than McCain, and even if that’s not “libertarian” it’s certainly “more libertarian.” If you want to trade idealism for this type of cynical realism now may be your chance!
It’s good to see the little guys making culty comebacks against the established corporate heavyweights. Go Hydrox! And I don’t care what anyone else says, that’s a great name for a cookie. I’d also like to see Gatorgum make a comeback, and Space Food Sticks.
Interesting bit on data mining cars, but it’ll never happen. Not for a long time at least, when the government will probably mandate it for our “safety.”
This bit kills me:
He believes that as the car of the future studies the driver’s voice, facial expressions and emotional state using a camera and even blood pressure monitors in the steering wheel, it could change its tone to match your mood. In other words, it’ll know when you’re about to blow your top because someone cut you off, and soothe your nerves with a friendly voice.
Are you kidding dude? If my car talked to me when I was angry I would pull over and light it on fire.
However, add a little AI therapy to the mix, and perhaps a benzodiazipine dispenser, and we might have something.
“Our research indicates that the strategy that works best is what we called cognitive reframing, which involves not letting the negative emotion start in the first place” he says. “So rather than try to repair the emotion, you try to prevent it. Someone cuts you off and the car says, ‘Five miles ahead, the road will clear,’ something that changes your view from anger to something more positive.”
Hal: “Relax, Manunderstress. Five miles ahead, the road will clear.”
MUS: “Give me a Xanax, Hal. And shut the fuck up.”
I really hope Obama is the superhero that so many believe he is, although forgive me if I’m a little too cynical to build a shrine in my front yard. However, having long resisted recidivist tendencies to canonize politicians (ok, I liked Ron Paul…sue me), I like some of what the man has to say (except the the populist shit), and definitely more than the other Gynormous Government Guy, Little Johnny McWar. Key being to forget all paeans to limited government this go around. The Republicans have been lip-syncing their minimal government tall tales for over a decade now and most rational folks have seen beyond the rhetoric, but still they go unpunished. At least the Democrats never promised. Americans want their utopia now more than ever, with an ever growing delusion that the righteous power of Government can deliver it. Which probably explains why we also demand of the president extraordinary superhuman powers:
The chief executive of the United States is no longer a mere constitutional officer charged with faithful execution of the laws. He is a soul nourisher, a hope giver, a living American talisman against hurricanes, terrorism, economic downturns, and spiritual malaise. He—or she—is the one who answers the phone at 3 a.m. to keep our children safe from harm. The modern president is America’s shrink, a social worker, our very own national talk show host. He’s also the Supreme Warlord of the Earth.
I’d love to drink the kool-aid, kids, but the fact of the matter is that the drugs don’t work anymore…
Time Bandits, one of the greatest movies ever. I remember seeing this with my Dad when I was a kid and being so utterly bewildered afterwards. I asked him why it ended like it did. He said, “I have no idea.”
Sorry for the break, I fell off the edge of the internet enabled world for a while and those stories will come later.
Back in Cabarete, I booked a one day mountain bike ride with Iguana Mama, an adventure tour group, that was to traverse the El Choco area, mainly an old dirt road that used to be used to haul bananas in from the country side. Carlos, a very personable young dude was my guide and we spoke Spanish most of the time, until I hit my inevitable dead ends that is. The whole route was 45km(!) some paved road, but mostly the dirt road that lead up into the mountains through scant little villages, pastures of grazing cows hiding under trees clearly bored out of their minds, plenty of horses, palmy mountain vistas, other large jungle-leafed foliage and rubber trees and, well, forget it, the names of trees and plant life will forever will elude me. I know the Magnolia in front of my house because it craps 100 pounds of leaves and cone things onto my steps, yard, and sidewalk every year. There is a Mahogany tree Carlos says. I say, “ahhhh,” as if I´d been waiting to see what one looked like my whole life. Ascent. Head down, pedal, life reduced to the revolution of the pedal. This is so very opposite of the anti-gravity nature of kitesurfing. This is something you do to prove that you are human, to know and feel it, to probe the limits of what it means to be a creature limited by gravity and lungs. We are so weak. As a sometimes mountain biker I am in reasonable shape though, so the only thing really killing me is my ass, which has not so much natural padding and is being pummeled by the Dominican countryside. Up up up, the rocky dirt road, horses closer, a wild dog that takes a swipe at us (we must have looked so bad ass to him, helmets and rad bikes and all), hola shouting children waiving, dinky little tin-roof and concrete shanties. My right foot going numb due to shitty bent pedal, also my right pinkie and next finger one over (does this one have a name?) We ascend what Carlos says is the steepest ascent, and then it´s pretty flat for a while, great open views. Still 20km to go though. Christ. I´m starting to wonder if I can make it without a powerbar, but they don´t have those out here. Finally we hit paved road again and through more angelic palm-mountain vistas and are heading back to Cabarete with mostly road to ride, which is good as my neck is falling down I cannot really hold it up anymore and, but the pedaling is automatic, it´s miraculous like this when you can just keep it going with absolutely no energy available to you. In this sense, it is gravity defiant as well, or entropy defiant at least.
Rusty tin roofed shanties surrounded by lush vegetation, baseball diamonds, bluer than blue ocean on descent into Santa Domingo. Met up with the Batey Relief Alliance folks no problem, even though I realized they didn’t know what I looked like and I didn’t even have a phone number. Duh. We piled in and made it into the city. My hotel is spartan, but near the Zona Colonial. I hit the streets immediately, not in photography zone yet though. Find the Zona Colonial after trying out my pathetically rusty Spanish a coupl of times and not really understanding the somewhat convoluted directions I was given. Zona is all old world charm, first American city ever people, with the usual hustle. The shoe shine kids are the worst. We all meet up later for a Presidente (Cerveza) and dinner and then call it early. Not much going on Thursday at 10pm. Hit my hotel and got a 40 from across the street and stayed up chatting with the hotel employees for abit. Is that “Pigs On The Wing part. I” coming from that parked car? Yes! There is also a recent curfew on the weekdays at midnight I find out. Sleep was much needed, and decided to switch hotels first thing to the swank Santa Domingo Hotel where the rest of the gang is. Today was tour in Zona Colonial, much walking, photo taking. Gotta go, minutes up.
The selling of “Anarchy” - Salon.com2012/01/12 But should dissenters be concerned about the possibility of capitalism’s recuperative claws succeeding to commodify (and pacify) even anti-capitalism?
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