J’aime bien le Pac-Man

Victoire épique.

from The Awl

Jesus Christ!

The Florida legislature has just approved this new vanity license plate.  Seriously.

I wonder whether anyone is going to match this up with ILVTOFU?  Though I think if I lived in FL, I’d go with GAY  JEW.  Although BRB  LOL would be pretty good too…

from The Awl

UPDATE: Sorry, I had to throw in at least a few suggestions from the The Awl comments…

KNG   JWS
NO1   SON
OMG   WTF
4SA   KEN

And as long as we’re discussing FL license plates, I’d be remiss if I didn’t include this – which is not a vanity plate, but an actual randomly issued FL DMV license plate.

And the lord said, “Let there be cross-dressing.”

So, if I’m understanding this sign, God’s law is that two people can get married as long as one of them is in a dress?  I don’t have a problem with that (well, other than trying to squeeze myself into a size 6).

And it’s nice to see that God isn’t a real stickler about punctuation…

from Des Moines Register

The Naked Ape

Cinder

Just saw something online about “Ashes”, a “naked” chimpanzee at a zoo in India.  The linked article mentioned another chimp, “Cinder”, at the St. Louis zoo with the same condition, i.e. alopecia universalis.  Rather fascinating looking apes and, as was pointed out, an amazing opportunity to see the underlying musculature of a chimp.

I thought it was also very interesting to find out that Cinder was fully accepted within her chimpanzee community, despite her unusual appearance.

Sadly, Cinder died just a couple of months ago, at the young age of 14, due to an undiagnosed heart condition.  Read more about her here.

“We Will Find Ourselves On Very Thin Ice”

I love news and I love Auto-Tune.  Now, finally someone has brought them together…  Thank you, sir – you are indeed a genius.

And I have to confess, I’ve always liked Katie Couric – and this just makes me like her all the more.

from sfist

For Those About To Shimmy (We Salute You)

So, I guess this is some sort of music download service in Argentina.  Though, really, who cares?  Whatever they’re selling, I’m buying…

Trial By Jury Duty

Last week, I had to show up at the courthouse in San Francisco to fulfill my civic duty as a potential juror.  And, as expected, the process of selecting a jury was excruciating, thanks to the small but vocal nincompoops in the jury pool who were unable to give a yes-or-no answer to questions posed by the judge or the attorneys when asked their views on the legal matters at hand.  Honestly, some of them seemed to think they were in a freshman “Philosophy 101” course the way they were pontificating…  So dreadful.

At any rate, the twelve jurors were empaneled and I thought to myself, “Thank you Jesus, I’m out of here.”  It was about 60 seconds after this that I was chosen as the single alternate juror…  Grrrr.

So, the trial started the next day and it appeared to be a pretty straightforward case: a young man was accused of three misdemeanor counts related to possessing and concealing a firearm.  The facts of the case were clear; and the defendant had admitted to the police that he’d been in possession of the gun and led them to where he’d disposed of the gun after it discharged accidentally and wounded his girlfriend in the leg (apparently not seriously).  Defense counsel, in her opening statement, alluded to the defendant’s fear for his safety as the reason for carrying the weapon – he had been shot ten months earlier by a suspect apparently still at large.  So, perhaps some extenuating circumstances, but it was looking pretty likely that the defendant had in fact violated the law.

The district attorney presented his case, calling one witness, the police officer who arrested the defendant and investigated the case.  Testimony as expected, including the defendants recorded statement admitting to both possessing and concealing the weapon.  What was somewhat unexpected was the forlorn nature of the firearm introduced into evidence:  a very old 22-caliber rifle, with the stock and the barrel cut off to make it concealable.

The defense attorney called her first witness, the defendant’s brother.  He testified as to the changes he’d seen in his younger brother since he was shot.  He’d been a typical 18-year-old who liked to hang out with his friends, go to the movies, joke around – but after he recovered from his injuries, he’d become withdrawn, quiet, very wary about leaving the house.  He also testified as to the seriousness of the wounds his brother suffered: five gunshots, a period of paralysis and extensive physical therapy to regain the ability to walk.

The defendant’s sister testified next, and in much the same vein.  Both she and her brother spoke about growing up in their tight-knit community in the Mission district – and the fact that, despite having identified his shooter to the police, their brother’s assailant remained at large, their friends reporting when he showed up at parties in the neighborhood or was spotted cruising down the street.

Finally, the defendant himself took the stand.  And I have to say, it was very difficult to maintain my composure during his testimony.  He was very soft-spoken as he related the facts of his being shot two years ago, at the age of 18: he was hanging out with a group of friends early one evening and someone ran up to them brandishing a gun.  Everyone scattered and the gunman took off after the defendant, chasing him down an alley, shooting him in the stomach, then in the face and then three times in the legs.  He crawled down the alley, a passing stranger coming to his assistance before an ambulance arrived to take him to SF General for surgery.  His recovery took several months.

He also indicated that he had identified the shooter to the police in a photo line-up – and then never heard back from the police.  He spoke about his fear of leaving the house, of walking the streets at night, of loud noises; about hearing from friends who’d seen the man who shot him roaming freely through the Mission.

He spoke about how he acquired the gun – he purchased it for $40 from a homeless man.  It was on old, beat-up, single action rifle that he altered so he could fit it into his pocket.  He fired it into the air once after he bought it to make sure it worked, as he’d never before fired a gun.  And he carried it with him when he went out at night, along with two spare bullets in a homemade strap attached to the gun.  He wanted to know he’d at least have a chance of surviving if his attacker came after him again.

Frankly, it was heartbreaking. And what I couldn’t figure out was this: why are we all here?  Why hadn’t the defense attorney managed to strike a plea bargain for her client?  It was three misdemeanor charges and I didn’t get the impression that the prosecution was trying to throw the book at the defendant.  In fact, he had originally been charged with a more serious felony related to his discharging the weapon and injuring someone. And there appeared to be no dispute as to the facts of the case.  It remains a mystery to me as to why this case made it to trial…

During closing arguments, the prosecutor essentially restated both his case and the law as it pertained to the case.  It really was an open-and-shut case, viewed through the lens of the law.

The defense closed by painting a picture of the tragic circumstances that had befallen the defendant – his shooting, the apparent bungling of that case by the SFPD, his difficult recovery.  And all of it was true and sad and depressing – but none of it changed the facts of the case.  She went on and on to the jurors, about their need to reach their own individual conclusions and to stick with them, no matter what.  It was pretty clear she was hoping to elicit sufficient pity from at least one juror to result in a hung jury – or was she actually aiming for jury nullification on misdemeanor charges?  Either way, it was fairly distasteful. Don’t get me wrong – I understand that it’s her job to keep her client from being convicted.  But there was no disagreement as to facts of the case.   As that old chestnut goes, “two wrongs don’t make a right” – but that seemed to me to be the crux of her defense.

Of course, she didn’t do much to bolster her argument by using slides and charts during closing that seemed to be misstating the law as instructed by the judge, but also doing so using misspelled words and incorrect grammar. Or with her decidedly theatrical demeanor, apparently gleaned from repeated viewings of “Law and Order”.

At any rate, I was quite fortunate that none of the jurors joined the choir invisible during the trial – and thus I did not have to participate in the deliberations.  The jury reached a similar conclusion to mine, finding the defendant guilty on two of the three counts against him.  And I suspect none of them were happy about it.

As with my last interaction with the legal system (when I was sued for hitting a pedestrian with my bicycle – a pedestrian who walked into the street against a red light without looking), I was left with a bad taste in my mouth.  The defendants conviction certainly followed the letter of the law – but there sure didn’t seem to be anything fair about it.

Exciting Times in the ‘Loin

The dream...

Sitting at the computer this evening and I hear some commotion outside – sirens and a police officer yelling at people to stay on the sidewalk. I lean out my window and see that a motorcycle cop has stopped all cross-traffic on my corner and the street passing in front of my apartment is empty of cars – and the officer continues to instruct passersby not to stray from the sidewalk. OMG OMG OMG! I’ve seen this before! This is how they clear the streets for a motorcade! But who could it be? There’s no way President Obama could be in town without me knowing it… could he? Perhaps the Vice President? The First Lady?! Who knows? Who cares? It’s gotta be somebody!

I run to get my camera, to record the moment for prosperity. Maybe I should race downstairs for a better view? But what if they pass me by while I’m running down the stairs? Jesus, what should I do?! Better just stay put, hanging out my front window… Oh my god! This is going to be great!

OK, still waiting… And waiting. Hmm… Last time I saw one of these, it kinda ran like clockwork. Just be patient…

OH MY GOD! There it is! The lead motorcycle officer, cruising toward my apartment! And right behind him, lights flashing and siren blaring, an ambulance!

The reality...

An ambulance? Huh? That’s weird. And right behind the ambulance, a bunch of ordinary cars, filled with regular non-famous people who are not members of the Executive Branch of any government, foreign or domestic.

Oh, wait – behind the ambulance. It’s a film crew in a truck – filming the ambulance being driven down the street… For a movie, I guess… Or, even duller, a TV show.

Well, that wasn’t very exciting at all. And it was even less exciting when they did the whole thing over again ten minutes later. So much for my bird’s-eye view of the leader of the free world and/or his vice-president and/or the Queen of England…

As it turns out, the most exciting thing to take place in front of my apartment this evening happened about an hour later.  And it was the same excitement as every other night – a crazy person screaming obscenities.

Sounds like an episode of “The Bong Show”…

"Dude, I've like totally got glaucoma..."

Supervisor Ross Mirkarimi has proposed that the city of SF allow the Department of Public Health to dispense medical marijuana.  Mayor Newsom’s press secretary, Nathan Ballard, had this to say about the proposal:

The mayor will have to hash this out with public health officials. It’s the mayor’s job to weed out bad legislation. And to be blunt, this sounds pretty bad.

Oh that Nathan – sounds like my kind of bud…

from sfist

Seriously, it’s true…

I can totally vouch for Anderson Cooper… It is difficult…

And David Shuster is having a field day with this – and why not, I say?  I think the Republicans have really muffed this issue – they are getting licked in the polls, as 69% of people disagree with the thrust of their position.  Indeed, it seems likely that GOP will have some difficulty getting out from under the taint of this delusional tax “revolt” – they’ve really blown it.

She Dreamed a Dream

So apparently (and rightly), Susan Boyle is now an internet sensation… This clip is long-ish, but so worthwhile…

Why, Juror From Some Other Trial?

I’ll give the SF court some credit for doing their best to make jury service as tolerable as possible.  The phone-in line to check status is well-designed and convenient; not being required to show up for more than one day (unless one is selected to serve) is far superior to the olden days of showing up day after day all week; and the jury assembly room replete with electrical outlets and wi-fi is great, as it allows me to both work and blog during breaks from the trial.

But I guess there’s not much they can do about my being forced to rub elbows with the hoi-polloi.  Yesterday, for example, while attempting to catch up on my email, there  was someone seated just behind me making lots of noise while eating – crackling cellophane, smacking lips, slurping, chomping, licking fingers, sighing, grunting.  In other words, disgusting.  And capped off once the feast was finished with a no-attempt-to-disguise-it-or-be-discreet-about-it belch – I shit you not.

So today, I was back in the jury assembly room finishing my lunch.  I’d made sure to find myself an unoccupied corner, as far from everyone else as possible.   But after a few minutes, I noticed a rather noisome presence behind me – crackling, smacking, slurping.  Yes, my friend from yesterday had apparently sought me out, making sure to sit as close to me as possible again.  Only today, he seems to have also picked up a touch of SARS – so in addition to a repeat of yesterday’s symphony of gluttony, I was treated to an encore of sniffling, snorting, hawking and wheezing.  It was charming and not-at-all gag-inducing…

Storm’s a-brewin’… The gayest storm you’ve ever seen…

I suppose you’ve all seen this by now, but it’s worth putting up again.  Seriously, this commercial is so ridiculous, so riddled with lies, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Mostly though, I’m laughing, thanks in part to the sad audition tapes. UPDATE: The video of the audition tapes that I linked to originally  got pulled from YouTube after after the “National Organization for Marriage” (a.k.a. NOM…  om, nom, nom, nom) yelled copyright infringement.

Oh and then there’s this:

This map shows the year in which voters of a particular state are likely to defeat existing bans on gay marriage, based on several key indicators – though my reading of it is basically gay marriage for all, once the old bigots die.  Hooray for the youngs!

Of course, we gays are already discussing at the meetings when we should start implementation of the next phase of our gay agenda: mandatory gay marriage for all.  But this should be easy enough to achieve, since we’re surpassing our goals for recruitment of children…

from FiveThirtyEight via Gawker

Really Mad Men

By the way, I totally had this exact Panasonic radio when I was a kid - and I loved it.

Was just reading an old article from the NYTimes mag about “Mad Men” and they talked to several ad men who were on Mad Ave in the ’60s.  Some say the show is completely inaccurate, others that it’s spot on.  But Jerry Della Femina sounds like my kinda guy…

He now owns his sixth agency, Della Femina Rothschild Jeary & Partners, and wrote a best-selling account of his early advertising career in 1970. Its title was his proposed slogan for the Japanese-owned Panasonic account when he was creative director at Ted Bates: “From Those Wonderful Folks Who Gave You Pearl Harbor.”

Civic duties supersede blogging…

I’m on jury duty this week, hence the lack of new posts.  But here’s an oldie but a goodie, “Karaoke for the Deaf.”

Whiskers on Kittens and Dancing in Depots…

These are a few of my favorite things.

from Towleroad

Two Heads Really Are Better Than One…

I initially snapped this photo so I could rail against the fact that these ladies needed to work in tandem in order to operate the highly-complex ATM (or as they likely refer to it “the ATM machine”…  or perhaps simply as “the magic box”).

And while it is in fact a sad state of affairs that they could not perform this task solo, it is also true that by combining their modest abilities, they were able to complete their single transaction in the same amount of time as a normal person – thus ensuring that the line continued to move at a reasonable pace.

So, I applaud these ladies for finding a way to pool their talents to cope in these modern times.

"OK, you push the buttons and I'll look at the TV thingie..."

The Seven Year Hitch

Yes, today is April Fool’s Day – and, appropriately enough, it also marks the anniversary of the day Chris and I moved in together way back in 2002.  I’m not one to bare my soul via my blog – but suffice it to say, I love him more today than I did then…

Plus ça change….

Circa 2002

Plus c’est la même chose…

Circa not-too-long-ago...

The horror, the horror…

Gizmodo asked their readers to submit photos of their disastrous workspaces…  And here are the “winners”…  By which I mean “losers”…  By which I mean “even looking at these photographs is actually causing me to go insane and is also giving me hives”…  Shudder.

I honestly can’t decide which is worse.  The first photo, in addition to being a disaster area, also looks like it’s in the basement from “Silence of the Lambs”.  And what’s with all of the cords plugged into the ceiling?

But the second one is seriously pathological – one can’t even get the chair close to the desk because the floor is knee-deep in detritus.  And let’s not even mention that the whole room is a tinder box, just waiting to spontaneously combust…

Oh my god – I have to end this post now…  Looking at these photographs is making me light-headed…

Click here to see the other contestants – if you can bear it…