Jesus & Pals

Paul Krugman wrote a terrific column in today’s NY Times called “For God’s Sake.” According to Krugman, “The infiltration of the federal government by large numbers of people seeking to impose a religious agenda — which is very different from simply being people of faith — is one of the most important stories of the last six years. It’s also a story that tends to go underreported, perhaps because journalists are afraid of sounding like conspiracy theorists.”

He offers quite a few examples of religious nutters in government, but the following is my favorite (probably because I'm a dope-ass attorney): "For example, The Boston Globe reports on one Regent law school graduate who was interviewed by the Justice Department’s civil rights division. Asked what Supreme Court decision of the past 20 years he most disagreed with, he named the decision to strike down a Texas anti-sodomy law. When he was hired, it was his only job offer." How do you like that?

I buy in to the conspiracy and I’m not a big atheist, God-hater like a lot of my liberal friends. True, I wrote my 11th grade research paper on how organized religion is going to end the world (in 1996 people! I’m a friggin’ prophet!) but I’m comfortable with my relationship with God and certainly don’t begrudge anyone else’s. Still, the wacky Bible thumpers out there scare the – well, they scare the living Jesus out of me. Want to feel my fear? See Jesus Camp. It's by far the most frightening movie of 2006.

(Non-TimesSelect people, you no longer have an excuse to not read columns! Well, some of you anyway. Also, people, you know you can always pick up an old skool paper copy of the Times.)

I (heart) Snorg Girl.

As you may know, I’m an avid reader of Wonkette. Wonkette – unlike this dinky affair – is a professional website with advertisers (ooh!). Recently among those advertisers is a website called Snorg Tees that sells novelty t-shirts. Most of their ads feature a young woman wearing one of their novelty t-shirts with her mouth open in an expression of what I’ve decided is best described as surprised glee.

Now here’s the weird part: I just can’t get enough of her! Snorg Girl affects me in a strangely primal way. I don’t know what it is about her, but just seeing her in the Snorg Tee ads completely cracks me up and fills me with a brief but distinct sense of completely unbridled joy. I can be in a terrible mood or extremely tired and just one glimpse of Snorg Girl will make me laugh out loud and fill me with enough energy to get me through another hour of work. It’s inexplicable. I sort of want her to be my best friend.

So here, for all of you to enjoy, is my favorite picture of Snorg Girl in her “I’m Kind of a Big Deal” t-shirt (© 2007 Snorg Tees):

So it goes.

Kurt Vonnegut passed away yesterday. Celebrate his life by buying a book.

Access the Times obit and definitely go read Graham's post.

Rest in peace, Mr. Vonnegut.

(Edited to add a link to Graham's post. In my defense, I titled my post before seeing Graham's. Great minds think alike.)

Quote of the Week

You may not have noticed but, back in the old format, I had a quote at the very bottom of the page that I'd update now and again. I've moved the quote over to the left side of the page in an effort to make it easier to find, but I wonder if people even notice it. I will try to update it weekly. If you missed the first quote last week, well, too bad so sad.

I wanted to feature this week's quote because I enjoy all things critical of the current administration:

"The very fundamental issue is, they don't know where the hell they're going . . . . So rather than go over there, develop an ulcer and eventually leave, I said, 'No, thanks.'" - retired Marine General John J. "Jack" Sheehan, a former top NATO commander who was among those rejecting consideration by the Bush Administration for the job of "War Czar."

You can read more about it in the Washington Post.

Google Search Spotlight!

Once in a while, a very creative Google search leads people to my blog. For a while, it seemed that everyone was researching airplanes. There was also a surprisingly large number of people who searched for Brendan R. from my law school section (to the point where I went back and edited out his whole name from my dream post). But today, I noticed that someone accessed my blog after googling this:

"ahmadinejad hotness"

For the record, and as my readers already know, I never said anything about the Iranian President being hot. (I am SO on a no-fly list.)

My left arm was sliced off and reattached.

So I had a number of really bizarre dreams this morning. The longer I sleep, the weirder my dreams tend to become, so it was no surprise that a lazy trip to Jersey would elicit some wackiness. I wasn't expecting so much terror-related material, though. Most of my dreams involved a terrorist attack or some other apocalyptic situation. One time my dad was there. One time I was with Rose from Lost. None of it was particularly fun. Especially the zombie dog that tried to eat me in my parents' house. Not cool, Zombie Dog. Not cool.

Much more fun was an earlier dream where my left arm was sliced off. I was working somewhere where there was this big machine that resembled a very large paper cutter. Somehow my left arm got sliced off at the shoulder. In my dream, I remember right before the accident and then I remember waking up from surgery and my arm was reattached! For most of the dream, I'm tooling around the hospital in a wheelchair and showing people the scar. I even flirted with some blond woman who asked me if I worked for the State Department. (Not sure the significance of any of that.) The weirdest part is that my arm felt really sore for the entire dream. When I woke up, I had to actually feel my shoulder to see whether or not the reattachment seam was there. It was quite the relief when I figured out it wasn't. But my arm was still sore.

Meh. Maybe some more wacky dreams on the train?

My cell phone leaks jelly.

I wish I were joking. I have no idea what's going on, but something sticky and goo-like is seeping from the side of my cell phone's main screen. Looking at my phone, I can actually see some clear, jelly-like substance along the edge of the picture and, based on touch tests, it seems to be slowly seeping out the side.

The phone seems to be working just fine. I wonder if it has anything to do with the time Charles threw me in the pool with my phone in my pocket, but that was nine months ago. I cannot think of any place my phone has been where it might have collected a gooey filling.

Needless to say, I'm extremely grossed out. Has this ever happened to anyone else?

Figures.

This past Tuesday had the dubious distinction of having Metro's second highest weekday ridership in 31 years, only beaten by Reagan's state funeral ceremony in June 2004. A quick glance at this WMATA News Alert shows that this past Monday had the eleventh highest ridership. The tourists are clearly out in force.

I think DC has not yet seen the last of Furious Commuter....

Sigh of Relief

News just broke that President Ahmadinejad is going to "pardon" the 15 British sailors that were captured after allegedly crossing into Iranian waters almost two weeks ago. I've been seriously thinking that these 15 Brits could be the Archduke Ferdinand of World War III but, thankfully, it seems like cooler heads have prevailed.

I've never been much of a Ahmadinejad fan, but I can't help but feel that he came out looking pretty good in all this. He did, after all, avoid what could have been the beginning of the end of days. Not to mention that he released the hotness that is Royal Navy Sailor Nathan Summers (above right) back into the world. Do you think I'd get put on a no-fly list if I sent Mahmoud Ahmadinejad a short thank-you note?

Happy Passover!

This pleases me every Passover.

Seda' Club - shabot6000.com

Add to My Profile More Videos

Sigh. I wish I were in Swampscott with the Freedmans.

Alanis's Humps

I know this is everywhere, but I thought it was pretty great. Regardless of how you feel about Alanis Morissette, I think she elevates this particular piece of, ahem, "music."

Welcome home!

Welcome to the reborn Colonial Jumbo. In reimagining this blog, I decided to abandon the old name (to make my URL match again) and colors and try something a little different. Along with the new look come some promises that I will do my very best to keep:

1) a biweekly post on politics, which will alternate with...
2) a biweekly post on the arts and entertainment;
3) no more than 48 hours without a post of some kind (sometimes just a link to something interesting); and
4) no more than 5 days between substantive posts.

Fair? I hope so. Enjoy.

The first post of the new era awaits you below....

Furious Commuter

The whole point of life after high school seems to be landing the eventual steady job. I know a lot of people in law school who, for instance, toiled to get to that financial apex of the steady job: the associate position. (I was going to make a joke about it being the spiritual nadir of the steady job as well, but then I decided I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings -- besides, some consider hit men to have steady jobs, too.) Still, while I like having a job, I wish it weren't so, well, steady. All my days have started to look the same. Sure, some days are better or worse, more productive or less so, but what I can't shake is that, no matter what, it's the same desk, the same computer, and the same view from my window. What's worse, I've noticed that this monotony has had a very peculiar effect on me.

Depression? No. Hardly. I haven't been constantly jumping for joy the last few months, but I'm certainly not depressed. (See Alessandro circa first year of teaching for more on that.) Rather than sad, lately I've been experiencing a bit of a split personality.

Take this morning for example. I was lying in bed hitting snooze whenever my alarm or my phone (I set both) would go off when I noticed some rumbling noises coming from above. It wasn't that loud while I was still in bed, possibly because I was half asleep and not really cognizant of much, but once I got up, the noise became louder. And it started getting annoying. From my desk chair, it sound like a couple of people might have been playing a game of tackle football above me. Or perhaps someone was holding a ballet class and the students were practicing grand jetés across the floor. I started complaining out loud. (When you live alone, you tend to talk to yourself. Or so I've been told.) Once, I stood up as if to go upstairs but then decided against it. More noise. I was now cursing out loud. More noise. I stood up again. A loud crash above me....

I went completely blind with rage. The next time I was aware of my actions, I was holding my swiffer broom and slamming it into my ceiling. Luckily, my upper body strength is akin to that of a 12-year-old girl who doesn't like the outdoors, so I didn't actually put a hole in ceiling. But the blind rage was not new. It has come before, mostly when I commute. Actually, ALWAYS when I commute. The other day after work, I was walking from the Dupont Metro when my friend Jon tapped me on the shoulder. It took a good 3 minutes before I could string together coherent sentences. Why? Because I was so wound up with this peculiar anger that I couldn't think straight. I zone out completely. Like I'm a different person. I become...FURIOUS COMMUTER.

Furious Commuter is a pretty angry guy. He always sighs loudly when someone is standing on the left-hand side of the escalator BEFORE saying, "Excuse me." He finds it necessary to express his disdain with their standing choice and just asking to pass doesn't quite do that enough. Sometimes, when the fury steals his speech, Furious Commuter merely waves his arms in the air behind the unsuspecting idiot. He does this to show other commuters how furious he is (in hopes that they will join him in thinking the left-stander an idiot). Furious Commuter's other patented moves include swatting at departing trains with his Express, sitting sideways along two Metro seats so that no one will sit next to him, glaring at people talking loudly on their cell phones, and (in Furious Commuter's defense, only when no children are present) loudly exclaiming, "Fucking typical!" whenever there is a metro delay.

Furious Commuter has arch enemies. He despises tourists. They are his 2nd least favorite thing about DC (the first being the Bush Administration). He hates that they always seem to travel in family packs. Stupid mother pushing idiot baby in stroller with borderline-vegetable dad hurrying along two youngsters who indubitably ride the shortbus to school from their quaint home in Nebraska. I know that such judgment is elitist and unhelpful, but Furious Commuter doesn't care. He wants them to go back to their crap-ass midwestern town where they can vote Republican and study the Bible far from his morning commute. The thing that brought Furious Commuter out this morning was a glimpse of a clearly-from-out-of-town family of SEVEN where none of the children were over the age of seven. Furious Commuter thinks forced sterilization might not be a terrible idea.

Furious Commuter hates how the whole family stands in front of six farecard machines while dad is using all of his brainpower at just one. He despises how tourist families will rarely sit down (Furious Commuter guesses that minorities scare them) but instead insist on congregating right by the door, the concept of moving into the center of the car completely lost on them. Still, the thing that sends Furious Commuter into that wonderful blind fury within seconds is the clusterfuck at the turnstiles. Ah, yes. He hates people who don't own a SmarTrip card. He hates seeing a big ass in a jumbo skort with a fanny pack perched to the side standing right in front of a turnstile and not going anywhere. Peering over said fanny pack, Furious Commuter sees a hapless tourist attempting to force their paper farecard upside down into the "out" slot. Now, I know that someone who doesn't ride the metro regularly shouldn't be expected to get it on the first try. But Furious Commuter doesn't care. He much prefers the loud grunt of exasperation, sometimes with a bit of frustrated flailing, as he dodges around Fanny Pack's 10 children (all in CIA or FBI sweatshirts...oh, how Furious Commuter loathes those tacky sweatshirts) to another open turnstile. If none are available, the fury rises just a bit, but Furious Commuter deals by exchanging knowing, furious looks with his fellow furious commuters.

This morning, Furious Commuter (after seeing the aforementioned fury-inducing brood of seven), made his way quickly through the turnstile when he saw that a train was waiting on the platform below. He rushed to the escalator only to be stopped by one of his other archenemies: Woman with Rolly Bag. WwRB was with a companion and the two blocked the way (even after Furious Commuter's very angry "Pardon me") just long enough that he did not make the train. He turned around to glare at WwRB and noticed that she had on dark sunglasses. WwRB was a blind woman. Furious Commuter had grunted angrily at a blind woman on an escalator. I looked down embarrassed.

Then Furious Commuter thought, "So? Her blind ass should've gotten out of the way," and shot her another unseen glare.

Baby, give me one more chance?

I’m sorry for being such a sucky blogger. I have a ton of excuses, but would rather not bore you with any of them. I understand that you want more and hopefully we can reach an arrangement.

With that in mind, I’m announcing a re-launch of the blog. On Monday April 2^nd (I was going to make it April 1^st, but I didn’t want anyone to think this was a gag of sorts) The TerenZone will finish its slow burn into a pile of ashes and will be reborn, phoenix-style. Instead of a spectacularly-written-but-otherwise-run-of-the-mill blog, my new creation will be hipper, have weekly and monthly features, and will wow and delight you in ways you never imagined you could be wowed and delighted.

So give me one more chance? Tune in at noon on Monday, April 2^nd, and check it out.

Best Headline Ever.

Enjoy.

More death by Metrobus....

After a fabulous long weekend in Chicago, I decided to catch up on a bit of television. At one point, I noticed a local news ad mentioning a Metrobus death. At first I figured it was DVRed during a program from last Thursday when two women were struck and killed. Then I realized I wasn't watching a program from Thursday night.

Just a few days after my post on the problems with Metro and the recent tendency for Metrobus manslaughter, yet ANOTHER person was struck and killed by a Metrobus. This time it was the W2 bus in Southeast. Read about it in the Post.

There was a time when all I feared about living in the District were the high crime rate and the potential for terror attacks. Glad to know I can add "getting hit by a bus" to the list.

Thanks, Metro!

Spotlight on DC: Metro opens doors...to death & despair.

I originally started this post as a whine about the latest massive Metro delays. A few paragraphs in, I went to the websites for WMATA and the Washington Post but couldn’t find anything about this morning’s Red Line fiasco. Then I found this article about two women who were struck and killed by a MetroBus last night. “The two women were on Seventh Street NW in the Penn Quarter neighborhood and had the ‘walk’ signal to cross Pennsylvania Avenue when a northbound bus turned left onto the avenue about 6:40 p.m., said Lisa Farbstein, a Metro spokeswoman.” As a DC resident who walks or uses public transportation to get everywhere, this freaks me the hell out. Everyone who lives here has seen those buses barreling down the road. There’s a supremely unsafe crosswalk at 20th and O St that I use everyday to and from work. I’m usually pretty forceful about asserting my right to have traffic yield to me and often step out (albeit cautiously) in front of cars, but I refuse to mess with the buses. More than once I’ve arrived at the crosswalk and seen a D6 hurtling down the street like it’s a fire truck headed toward a five-alarm blaze. I can only imagine how fast the fatal 54 bus from last night had been going -- and how criminally inattentive the driver must have been -- to hit TWO people with enough force to kill WHILE MAKING A LEFT TURN. It’s one thing for a bus to kill someone while on a straight away (those things are heavy), but on a turn? Something’s really wrong here. With that bus – and with Metro.

This was the third fatal Metrobus accident since June 2006. In that month, the H8 killed a woman crossing Park Road on 16th Street NW. Just last month, another woman (ladies, please be careful) was struck by a bus leaving a bus garage while crossing Wisconsin Avenue NW in Friendship Heights. According to the Post’s article, I’m not the only one totally disturbed by this. D.C. Council member Jim Graham (D-Ward 1), a member of the Metro board, “said he will seek answers about whether the three fatal accidents since June are isolated incidents or represent a more systemic problem." I’m leaning toward the latter. How can one not think that something is seriously wrong with the way Metro is being run, as evidenced not only by these tragedies but by the shoddy service and dangerous instances of late?

The Metro trains have been plagued with all sorts of issues. An editorial from the Post mentions the minor stuff and this article covers the most recent major accident when a Green Line car derailed at Mt. Vernon injuring 20 people. This very morning, I was halfway down the nonfunctioning (shock!) escalator to the Red Line platform at Dupont when I noticed that there was hardly a place to stand. I didn’t know how long it had been since the last train, but judging from the crowd (and admittedly it was rush hour) it had to have been at least 15 minutes. A glance at the board revealed that the next train would be in 6 minutes, a train after that had no time next to it (never a good sign), and then another train would be around in 10 minutes. So I waited. Finally a train pulled up AND THE FIRST CAR WAS UNLIT AND NOT CARRYING PASSENGERS. There appeared to be some sort of equipment on it. Fine. But, really Metro? Don’t have the first car of the first train you send to a crowded platform be closed. Take an extra 5 minutes and send a completely free train. It’s just a PR thing – people don’t want to see an unlit car and be faced with closed doors after waiting that long. An announcement then came on asking people not to crowd the train because another was right behind it. I didn’t even try to board. The train pulled away leaving the platform looking no less crowded and another announcement came on: “We apologize. The next train will be in 6 minutes.” I don’t know if my fellow commuters appreciated me laughing out loud, but I couldn’t help myself. I said goodbye to a friend that I’d run into on the platform, and walked out. Of course this had to happen on a cold, slushy day. The walk down to the Blue Line at Farragut West was not fun (except for running into Josh). The Red Line is bad news. Red, underground, often on fire . . . I propose that the Red Line is the topmost level of Hell. It serves Upper Northwest (think big money) and downtown including Judiciary Square (think my professional peers). I can almost guarantee that a fair share of the riders are big time sinners. Unfortunately, I’m stuck to suffer with them.

Metro needs to get its act together pronto. Currently in the works is a proposal to extend Metro out to Dulles Airport. Anyone who’s tried getting out there would know this would be a boon of not insignificant proportions. Still, with word of a proposed above-ground rail (a terrible, terrible idea only favored because it’s cheap), I worry about how much more Metro can screw up. Pervasive delays, while a nuisance, don’t kill anyone. Cheap construction alternatives might. Unsafe bus drivers definitely do. To the Powers that Be at Metro: The system is broken. Please fix it.

Happy Valentine's Day.

(When I use a period instead of an exclamation point, I mean it ironically.) Raise your hand if you're surprised that I'm in a bit of a mood.

Didn't think so.

I suppose I can't really complain. I had an auspicious start to my day. I awoke early so that I could check my e-mail and determine whether or not I had a delayed work opening. Lucky for me, our offices weren't opening until 11am. PERFECTION. I hopped back into my snuggly bed. Right as I was waking up the second time, my phone rang with a number I didn't recognize. Normally, I screen calls like that (often it's a advertisement recording in Spanish) but, this time, I felt strangely compelled to answer. I'm so glad I did! It was John and Chris calling from Bangkok (sorry, John, you didn't fool me)! They apparently spent V-Day getting a bit hammered and decided to say hi. What a splendid way to start my day!

Then I went to work. Work was fine. Actually, I guess it was better than fine. I was pretty productive and the GC decided to buy everyone lunch! It was right before I left work that I received an e-mail from Ofoto (or whatever the hell Kodak is calling itself these days) with a coupon. The combo of chatting with the Bangkok boys and the promise of 30% off led me to attempt to create a photo book from the bar trip. So I came home, fired up Miss Kitty Mactastico and went to work. That was 3 hours ago. I was so wrapped up in my photo placement and caption that I completely lost track of time. Not only did I miss the live World Series of Pop Culture quiz at 7 AND 10, I didn't call Aly like I promised or even eat dinner.

So now I'm in my impossibly drafty apartment, eating cereal and feeling just a wee bit sorry for myself. I wish I were traveling. Or making out with someone. Or both. Bah.

I hope you enjoyed your Valentine's Day. I'm going to go watch Lost and Top Design (which, by the way, is NOWHERE near as good as Top Chef was before its terrible finale).

Old funny.

Pooja just sent me this quote from a NY State Senator on the iPod "crisis" in NY:

"This electronic gadgetry is reaching the point where it's becoming not only endemic but it's creating an atmosphere where we have a major public safety crisis at hand."

It immediately made me think of when Senator Ted Stevens called the internet a “series of tubes” approximately six months ago. He was, at the time, Chairman of the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science and Transportation. Does it bother anyone else that someone in that position made the following statement?

“I just the other day got…an Internet was sent by my staff at 10 o'clock in the morning on Friday, I got it yesterday. Why? Because it got tangled up with all these things going on the Internet commercially.”

I know this news is now ancient history, but when Pooja’s comment led me to Senator Stevens, it brought up an old memory of a techno remix of his speech. Finding it made me smile so I thought I’d share:



And this concludes my essay on why all people over the age of 80 should be put on a island where the rich can pay to hunt them. And it should be televised. (Fine. You may think I'm wrong, but at least agree that people of a certain age should not be entrusted to regulate technology they don't understand.)

I feel like Madonna.

I bought a new laptop! S/he’ll be waiting for me in NJ when I get there on Friday. I’m very excited. In case anyone else is planning on buying a macbook, I should note that I went through Amazon instead of the Apple Store. Even if I were to follow the instructions of my unscrupulous friend (cough…Josh…cough) and take advantage of the Apple Store’s student discount, the discount price is the same as Amazon’s price with a rebate. The clincher for me was not having to pay tax at Amazon and, of course, being able to get my new baby overnighted for only $1.99 due to my Amazon Prime membership. (Genger pointed out earlier that I often mention my Amazon Prime membership. I do this for two reasons: (1) if friends need something from Amazon fast, I’m happy to order it for them; (2) it’s without a doubt the best thing I ever forgot to cancel after the initial free period.)

Now comes the fun part:

Name the laptop:
	Blacbook
	Blacmac
	Miss Kitty Mactastico
	Big Black Mac (thanks, Jaye!)
	Obsidian Thunder
	Other (write-ins accepted through the comments section)
	In lieu of a name, I have to say "I like my macbooks like I like my men" whenever I mention it.
pollcode.com free polls