Wiretappin' that ass

Let's all take a moment of silence to mourn the complete obliteration of the Fourth Amendment.

...... 

Good. Now then, very loudly now and all together: WHAT. THE. FUCK.

You remember the Fourth Amendment, right? Our right to privacy, and the proviso that if the government is going to search, seize, arrest or surveil its citizens, it has to have a warrant first? To do so without one is a felony, punishable by at least five years in prison and a $10,000 fine. (Our fearless leader? He's committed up to 30 counts of warrantless wiretapping of U.S. citizens. By my count, he's due 150 years in prison and $300,000 dollars in fines. And a wooden spoon to the ass.)

 

Awesome cartoon by Matt Wuerker, snagged from www.hightowerlowdown.org

But instead, as Glenn Greenwald wrote on his blog at Salon.com, yesterday "the Democratic-led Senate [...] acted to protect the single most flagrant act of Bush lawbreaking of the last seven years, eviscerated the core Fourth Amendment prohibition of surveillance without warrants, gave an extraordinary and extraordinarily corrupt gift to an extremely powerful corporate lobby, and cemented the proposition that the rule of law does not apply to the Washington Establishment."

I feel like I'm taking crazy pills. Of all the amendments to stick it to, couldn't we do better than the Fourth? I mean, I'm just throwing this out here, but why not the Third? When was the last time the government forced us to quarter soldiers in our homes against our will? Oh, wait, I know: THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. But hey, let's keep that one, and make the Fourth dress up in a little organ grinder monkey suit and bang some cymbals together. Whee!

What the hell, Congress? I thought now that the Dems were in the majority you'd be bitchslapping this administration all over the heezy, but no. Lots of lip service and some impressive angry spittle, but that's about it. And of course everyone's panties are in a bunch over Obama voting in favor of the bill -- along with John McCaincer-in-my-face and the entirety of the other, darker side of the aisle -- and over his not filibustering the hell out of the bill for issuing amnesty to the telecoms for their complicity like he said he would months ago on the primary campaign trail.

Yeah, that sucks (though to be fair, he DID vote for the amendment that would've removed amnesty from the bill...which didn't pass), but when you really think about it, we have bigger fish to fry than FISA. Yes, the bill blatantly disregards the Constitution, and that's a BFD. But what's new? Bush has been flouting the Constitution his entire tenure in office -- issuing signing statements willy nilly, denying Gitmo detainees their rights to habeas corpus, authorizing the Plame leak, condoning blatant torture, the list goes on and on...

But I digress. Ultimately, we seem to be missing the forest for the trees here. Obama's support of this bill is capitulation, yes...but as a means to a bigger end: getting elected in November so that he can fry those bigger fish -- universal health care, bringing our troops home, salvaging our global reputation and foreign relation policies, enacting an energy plan to combat global warming, creating jobs and strengthening the economy.

Besides, as Gail Collins at the NY Times reminds us today, Obama has always said he wants to usher in a new era of politics in Washington, an era of consensus and compromise. "He talked — and talked and talked — about how there were going to be no more red states and blue states, how he was going to bring Americans together, including Republicans and Democrats. Exactly where did everybody think this gathering was going to take place? Left field?"

So give Obama a break. Look at the bigger picture. Unbunch those panties. You may feel betrayed, and may even be questioning your support of Obama...but do you want to see McCain move into the White House next January? SWEET GOD I DON'T. Those waxy jowls of his alone give me nightmares. Those waxy jowls rippling in response to his evil gleeful laugh as he pushes the big red button that'll send a nuclear warhead to Iran?

Terrifying. 

(On a lighter note, check out the hilarious ads the Drucker Brothers made on behalf of FISA.)

A little Emma Goldman in the making

Overheard this morning on my MAX ride into work, the following conversation between a mother and her 4-year-old daughter as they looked out the windows:

Mom: "That man should be wearing a helmet when he's on his bike, huh?"

Daughter: "He doesn't want to."

Mom: "Oh?"

Daughter: "Yeah. And if he doesn't want to wear a helmet, he shouldn't have to. If people don't want to do things, they shouldn't have to do them."

Mom: * confused silence *

Public relations fail

God bless NPR in the morning. Such fodder.

This morning on my way into work, I listened to a piece on French "bling-bling president" Nicolas Sarkozy's recent marriage to his mistress, supermodel and (naturally) pop singer Carla Bruni. Because of all the hubbub surrounding the illicit relationship (which apparently even in Europe is seen as disgraceful!), the French government is parading her around the continent in the hopes of "winning the hearts and minds" of the people and restoring Sarkozy to popularity (he and Bush are now neck and neck in the race for the lowest approval ratings...though, to be fair, Zimbabwean president Robert Mugabe isn't in the running).

So, in an effort to quell some nasty rumors about their affair, Bruni recently collaborated on a book telling the story of how she and Sarkozy met and fell in love. Fine, fine...but who really cares, right? Standard PR boilerplate crap. But then THIS happy little nugget landed in our laps, easily the most fantastic quote I've heard in a long time:

"It was immediate," she told the authors. "His physique, his charm and his intelligence seduced me. He has five or six brains, remarkably well irrigated."

Now wait. Just. One. Minute.

Five or six...brains? Remarkably well...irrigated? What in the shit is she talking about? First off, I've seen Sarkozy, and the man sports one tiny little pin head. He's a total microcephalic. There's no way ONE brain, let alone five or six, could be situated in there comfortably. And "well irrigated"? I'm at a total loss. I can't even figure out a way to make fun of that one, it's so bizarre.

I'm guessing (hoping) that this is just a poor French-to-English translation, that maybe what she really said was "He's so brainy, remarkably well read," or something like that. But if she really did say that he has five or six brains (and, what -- she can't even decide whether it's five or six? she's not sure yet? she's definitely seen evidence of five, but the sixth remains elusive and only hinted at?), and that those brains are, like, so awesomely irrigated? Well, then she's just batshit bonkers.

At least we're not the only industrialized nation that has to deal with its First Family's insane jibberish... 

What can I say? I'm a cheap date

I'd like to share with you all what I just witnessed at the Dollar Tree (the greatest place to buy cleaning supplies AND various awe-inspiring, hand-painted ceramic clown figurines):

1. A skinny junkie in a cartoon-bulldog-drinking-a-beer tank top who had accessorized his soul patch with not one, not two, but THREE tiny rubber bands...red, white, and blue. I'm hoping it's in honor of the recent holiday, and not an homage to the flashing lights he so often sees in his rear view mirror.

2. Another man buying four cases containing 20 cans each of carpet deodorizer spray. That's 80 cans of deodorizer. 1,600 ounces. WTF.

3. A very, very large woman on a Rascal with a) pink and yellow streamers hanging from the handlebars, b) a W bumper sticker, and c) the longest dune flag (blaze orange, of course) coming out the back that I've ever seen. I had so many questions for her. How often do you get going fast enough on that thing that the handlebar streamers actually stream? Do you ever feel like life is truly unfair, dealing you not only the handicap card, but the Republican one as well? And when -- WHEN?! -- have you ever found yourself on a hill so steep or in a position so precarious...ON YOUR RASCAL...that you needed to alert others to your presence via a 10-foot-tall blaze orange dune flag? I didn't even notice what she had in her little basket, I was so enthralled by her transportation accoutrements.

Just three reasons, boys and girls, why I love the Dollar Tree.

Your tax dollars at work

So there I was, standing at the corner of 5th and Yamhill this morning after doing a little banking at Wamu. The light for oncoming traffic was red, and the cross-traffic light was *just* turning yellow, which meant that if I booked it, I could make it across the crosswalk in time to catch the MAX that was still sitting there. But just as I leaped off the curb, the conductor rang his bell to signal that he was on the move, so I leaped back up onto the curb. Mind you, I had literally gotten one step off the curb. I was in no way in the MAX's path, and the cars at the light were still at a complete stop as they waited for the light to change.

When the light turned green, the line of traffic proceeded...except for a motorcyle cop a few cars back, who PULLED OVER next to me and said in his best authoritative I'ma-teach-you-somethin'-about-the-LAW-little-lady voice, "That could've been deadly." I am not kidding. He said that. He even gave me what I can only assume is his most serious cop look over the top of his cliche aviators.

I'm pretty sure that if people could be arrested just for giving the police withering looks of disgust and saying in an annoyed monotone, "REALLY." that I would've been taken into custody immediately (or, I guess since I'm in Portland, tazed to death). Yes, it *could have been* deadly...had I recklessly run out into oncoming traffic, crossed against the crosswalk signal, or attempted to hitch a ride on the MAX's undercarriage using only my teeth. But I hadn't. Traffic was stopped at a red light. The train wasn't moving. In fact, I never even made it anywhere NEAR the MAX, so how could it have been deadly? What exactly was this mysterious hypothetical situation that had nearly brought about my untimely demise? Had he maybe seen something I hadn't? Perhaps a killer bee had landed on my shoulder as I tried to cross, then flew away as I returned to the curb? Maybe I had been about to trip and fall on something sharp? Maybe I had only narrowly escaped a nefarious vehicular serial killer who mows people down at crosswalks...from a complete stop?

We may never know, friends. Suffice it to say, though, that I feel worlds safer now knowing that our local police are no longer satisfied with just policing reality, but are now also watching out for us in their vivid imaginations!

An Open Letter

Dear Overzealous Bathroom Pure Citrus Air Freshener Sprayer,

We really need to talk.

It’s about the spray in the bathroom. At first it was kind of funny, the weird Fruit Loop-y scent of the erstwhile women-only restroom after the Country Garden Glade ran out and was replaced by the Pure Citrus air freshener. But now? Well, now things are just out of control.

The back of my throat still burns—BURNS!—after my most recent sojourn into the bathroom, where I literally had to cover my face with my shirt to avoid breathing straight fumes. I first tried to block the smell with my hands, but quickly realized that even my tightest hand-mask wouldn’t do – the fierce odor still managed to penetrate through the infinitesimal space between my face and hands. This was about 15 minutes ago, and I can still hear the tiny, tortured screams of my lungs’ cilia as they shrivel and die.

So, a friendly tip: If the bathroom already smells like you’re swimming in a vat of pure orange juice located in an airtight room made of orange zest, wearing a suit made of orange peels, it’s likely that you won’t need to use the spray again when you’re finished with your business. In fact, I would wager that no one needs to use the spray in there again until around Christmas. Of 2017.

Thanks for your attention to this most serious matter.

Regards,

Melissa Wolf

Update on Wednesday, July 2, 2008 at 01:31PM by malisams

I originally sent the above as an email at work the other day, and today got the following response from a coworker of mine, Al. It's classic...

<Bud Light Real Men of Genius Voice>

*drum intro*

Bud Light presents REAL men of genius

<Background Anthem Singer>Reeeal Men of Geeniiiiius</Background Anthem Singer>

Today we salute you, Mr. Overzealous Bathroom Pure Citrus Air Freshener Sprayer

<Background Anthem Singer> Mr. Overzealous Bathroom Pure Citrus Air Freshener Sprayer </Background Anthem Singer>

Never before has a bathroom smelled so artificially fruity, even though there is nothing natural about that smell

<Background Anthem Singer> My eyes are burning </Background Anthem Singer>

With your Agent Orange-like coverage

You make sure the bathroom is not habitable by any smells, odors, or humans

<Background Anthem Singer>Good Morning Vietnam!</Background Anthem Singer>

You spray and spray and spray some more

In the hopes that someone will think they have actually walked into an orange grove

<Background Anthem Singer>Oh god it’s in my lungs now </Background Anthem Singer>

Thanks to you we may actually forget why we came in the bathroom

<Background Anthem Singer>Was I supposed to buy some fruit?</Background Anthem Singer>

So crack open an ice cold Bud Light oh offender of the olfactory sense

Because when it comes to covering an odor, 4 more sprays is never enough

<Background Anthem Singer> Mr. Overzealous Bathroom Pure Citrus Air Freshener Spra…yer </Background Anthem Singer>

Anheuser Busch St. Louis Missouri

</Bud Light Real Men of Genius Voice>