No longer telling us how to live

This is a sad day. Not only is my favorite mad cap rock star cum Green Party pacifist no longer blogging:

Due to the 3 1/2 hour daily commute to my new job, RATYHTL will be shutting down indefinitely.

In the meantime, please DO NOT clutter up either my inbox or my voicemail with messages.

But aparently I could have called him up and talked to him . . . until now. Damn.

Perhaps a more tragic loss for the world at large, though, is being denied Rodney's gift for de-rose-colored-glass-ifying history's facade of austerity.

This week alone he posted three brilliant portraits of Popes the Holy See would rather forget:

Fabulae Pontificalis (Today's episode: Does this miter make my ass look fat?)

Fabulae Pontificalis (Today's episode:I was a teenaged Pontiff)

Fabulae Pontificalis (Today's episode: Pope 9 From Outer Space)

Prior to that flurry, he had recently

• Created a flawless overlay of the shroud of Turin on Terri Schiavo's CAT scan
• Speculated that newly dead Andrea Dworkin "will be buried with an apple stuck in her mouth"
• Demanded a Black pope, if for no other reason than to document the reaction of his [racist] Irish and Italian neighbors
• Written a perfect synopsis of Soren Kierkegaard's Either/Or [either life is full of torment, or the afterlife will be]
• Invoked Ward Churchill as proof that

today's college students are a bunch of pussies. [And that] many collage administrators are out of their fucking skulls.

• Given this free piece of advice:

"Electra is pissed."

"Well she did sleep with her father…"

A bit of free advice, if you'll allow me: NEVER make an obscure
mythological reference to someone who is angry at you. They will NOT find
it endearing.

• And written this:

where is the ire that non-fire and brimstone Christians should have for the "God Hates Fags" branch of the Jesus worshiping family? If you Peace and Love Christians would reign in your outhouse dwelling, Bible thumping, Fag hating bretheren, I could go back to writing about the Ancient World.

Among other funny things.

Hopefully he finds himself a new job soon. Until then, here are some of his photoshops:

Read the full thing here.

Frist's gonna have mah legs broke

In two separate Slate articles--one advocating to keep the filibuster and another explaining various stalling tactics employable by the minority to throw a wrench in majority steam rolling in the event that a democratic filibuster is deemed unconstitutional by [uh oh] Dick Cheney--we get a good look at how uncivilized and combative our legislative process is.

Holy shit I don't know why I used the word uncivilized. More like divisive . . . which is a synonym of combative . . . damn.

It's trench warfare and there's always tons of the collateral damage of real change suffered for the sake of politicking, always with the justification that if enough effective politicking is done, the party you like will eventually have the power to affect real change.

So where is the real change?

Wouldn't it be better if, instead of two parties slogging it out, the majority imposing upon the minority and the minority scrapping to deflect those plans with guerilla parliamentary procedure, we found a way to include more [ideological] diversity in our lawmaking body. That would, hopefully stimulate the gradual move toward a representative government that truly represents its constituency [I'm arguing here for stronger hardline parties, strangely enough] and a legislature whose makeup is less likely to include a true majority for any one party.

Even if conservatives, as it were, in their many parties, still comprised a majority, they would be forced, if they hoped to accomplish anything, to create coalitions a la European parliaments. Having to parley and appease the hardline parties in lawmaking would do two things, force real dialogue between members of a specific ideology [conservatism lets say, broad a category as that is]. This would lead to concessions for minority groups in exchange for vital votes and also give members of the ruling party pause [is our bill worth these concessions? Do these concessions destroy the bill's intent?].

It even allows, given sufficient support, for the sidestepping of the ruling party altogether. Though this is probably rare given that the ruling parties are usually fairly moderate and would thus require lions laying down with lambs, it could nonetheless serve as a vital check on a particularly abusive hegemony.

That seems so much better than the polarized quagmire we have now.

But the one thing the dominant parties in America do agree on is that they should remain dominant. With that kind of concord, the filibuster is absolutely necessary.

Read the full thing here.

Zero-th trimester abortions

If anyone could please answer any of the following questions, I'd be much obliged:

1. Why is this morning after pill raising such a ruckus?
2. Is it fundamentally different than the older, daily Ortho-whathaveyous?
3. Are there really even that many pharmacists denying women the drug?
4. Does this seem to anyone else like another pointless "moral" touchstone like poor, vegetative Terri?

Argh, I was going to use these questions to rouse you to action but I just got curious and figured out number 2 myself.

The morning after pill works on the same principle as the daily pill. Essentially it messes with the levels of progestin [and also sometimes estrogen] in a woman's body, effectively preventing conception from occuring.

Given that, the only conceivable reason I can imagine for the current moral impetus against this drug--which has existed for years, and was actually recommended for over the counter sale in 2003--can only be that a perception exists that taking it after intercourse means you are also taking it after conception, effectively aborting the 4 cells that would become a human child. Another reason being the current hegemony of faith-based legislators.

I can sympathize with pharmacists not wanting to be connected in any way to abortion. Many people are uncomfortable with abortion. The subsection of doctors and even OB/GYNs who perform abortions is small, and these doctors can certainly decide for themselves if they want to conduct those procedures. I am certain there are physicians who are pro-choice in principle, and still can't bring themselves to orchestrate the procedure.

But allow me to direct the medically-trained, morally-outraged pharmacists to teenwire.com. There they will find a question by caezeriv. He/she asks: "How long does it take for the sperm to get to the egg in a woman?" Teenwire's answer: "It can take up to six days after intercourse for sperm and egg to join and form a fertilized egg. Usually, it's because the sperm gets into the fallopian tube before the egg is released." So concievably, the drug could be prescribed as the Five Mornings After pill and you'd still have a comfortable window to avoid being accomplice to a Zero-th term abortion.

It is further vital to note that the morning after pill is ineffective once the egg has seated itself in the uterine lining and pregnancy, in a technical sense, has begun.

That is to say: the morning after pill is obviously not an abortion pill.

But the argument upon which the moral objection rests will probably not be what ultimately decides if pharmacists are required to prescribe the pill. The final judgement might not have anything to do with morality at all.

Senator Frank Watson of Illinois is a pharmacist by trade. He believes forcing pharmacists to sell the pill is "an infringement on a business decision."

This is the opaque realm of State regulation, herein free-market/government-control quagmires dwell.

It may just be here, where liberals confidently tread, that they finally stumble. Suddenly the question is not one of ethical responsibility, but of the struggle between state regulation and free-trade principles. To whit: Is a pharmacy like a traditional business? If pharmacies are deemed to be just businesses, with little or no special status as government regulated entities, then it doesn't seem likely that the constitution would allow for the government to force people to sell a product they don't want to. In a free market system, I might be pissed that I can't buy a Jaguar in Elk, Washington, but I can't expect my state representative to be able to do anything about it.

However, if--and this is another thing you people who know more than me should look into--if pharmacists have some kind of special status, being one of a very small percentage of people who are allowed to legally distribute controlled substances, then it seems likely that the FDA or even state-level agencies should be compelled to enact such a provision. It could easily be argued that in exchange for the priviledge of doing business in a limited, government-regulated marketplace, it's not much for government to ask that the pharmacist offer every drug the government has deemed safe and legal.

The extent to which the government is empowered to controll the flow of prescription drugs, in short, may end up dictating the final outcome more than politiking will.

That is not to say there would not be political ramifications. What were to happen if someone decided he didn't want to give out AZT or whatever because HIV is God's punishment of queers and race-mixers? He'd get fired from Walgreen's, but what if he owned his own pharmacy? What power would the government have to force him? Take a more mundane drug like Claritin. Remove the moral non-dilemma from the equation and see what happens.

Of course, with a faith-based legislature, this quasi-moral righteousness rules legislation.

Even without the sex police, this is very dicey territory for pro-choice advocates because in pushing to spread the availability of sexual health options like the morning after pill, they are also seeking to limit the kind of choice freedoms many [moderate] people feel are mandated by the constitution and by a free-market. In the sense that they may be accused of limiting personal freedoms, this dangerous territory is largely unknown to social liberals.

The waters are murky and the stakes are high, but most trepidatious, the payoff is uncertain. The Times suggests no one is really sure how big an issue this is--to what extent it is being inflated by both conservatives and liberals--and advocates of reproductive health risk alienating large swaths of people, moderates certainly and even libertarian leaning democrats for what may amount to a battle for a few small towns in the heartland.

This is a non-issue in cities of any size, where even if one pharmacist denies the prescription, it would most likely be filled by another. That only leaves isolated rural towns and communities in danger of having this drug denied altogether.

So if the issue is forced, and people feel they are being asked to choose between the guarantee of a bail out pill and what can be spun to resemble an erosion of personal and market liberties, I think a lot of people who are normally perfectly fine with such drugs will bolt, leaving social liberals with a few very happy country folk and a whole lot of scorched earth.

Read the full thing here.

The logic of popular activism. Also, eating as self-defense.

I am a philosopher. That is, I was a philosopher. That is, I studied philosophy in college. That means, essentially, nothing.

There aren't many philosophers anymore, people who do real philosophy, above explaining Kant to business majors. I do neither. But the desire to philosophize persists, so I spend lots of time taking simple events and assessing them with the steely logic of Aristotle.

Feats of reason often happen when they are least expected. The other night, as my jaw snapped shut on a bit of tri-tip, I wondered, "If humans are animals, and we find eating people ethically repugnant, then why don't we also avoid eating other animals?"

Immediately and clearly, my philosopher's brain saw only two options:
• Eat people
• Don't eat animals.

Desperately needing the rigorous logic I learned in those Philosophy classes, but not wanting to do any real jail time, I decided I really should feel bad about eating animals.

I went to PETA's website for a little re-education.

Before it had time to load I was drawn to the first thing that came up. A link: PETA2.com. Why would I waste my time at the original website if there's already a number two?

As that page loaded, I asked it: “Why not eat animals, PETA2?” It responded with a concise and logically explosive argument:

Premise: Ethan Hawke has a dog.
Premise: PETA2.com has free iPods.
Conclusion: You should not eat at KFC.

There it was, Ethan with his dog on the gossip page, iPods on the iPod page, anti-KFC vitriol tagged everywhere else. But those are just the explicit terms, and it can be difficult for a non-philosopher to pick out the various implied premises that support the conclusion. They are:

Ethan Hawk has a dog.
PETA2.com has free iPods.

• Dogs are too cute to kill.
• You want an iPod.
• Dogs are kind of like chickens.
• KFC kills chickens.
• KFC doesn't offer iPods.

Therefore, boycott KFC.

It's bribery and cuddliness-by-association, but that alone isn't enough. Logical arguments are also founded on a set of assumptions. The assumptions in play here are:

• You are twelve
• You are confused easily
• You think celebrities are gods

Since idiot preteens are exactly PETA2's demographic, the argument works perfectly.

They see the cute puppy, all floppy-eared and doe-eyed, on the same page as Colonel Sanders disemboweling a hen, and say, "Yes, I should stop eating that." They wait, patiently, for their iPod to arrive.

Whatever austere opinion, whatever impassioned plea PETA.com has made for the responsible stewardship of Earth's creatures, PETA2 does infinitely better with marketing, celebrity worship and free iPods.

They're beginning to catch on.

Since my own celebrity worship has long since become resentment and jealousy, and because I already own an iPod, I was about to close the browser in disgust at this cynical activism. Then I saw something from my own childhood. There, on PETA2.com, was Davey Havok, lead singer of AFI – the Goth-punk skateboarding Wiccans who also play music.

That eye liner. That lip ring. That razor sadness. That bone-deep mournful ache. Those vinyl pants.

God that guy is cool.

Peeking out from behind his black, satiny devil's lock, Havok's sharp eyes transfixed me. Beckoned me. Told me of the Church of Havok, which has among its bylaws the following: "and we shall all follow a vegan diet."

Take me into your fold! Yes. I shall take up the red paint, the foraging.

I was about to sink again into the adolescent languor of pop idolatry, but National Geographic Explorer was playing somewhere in the background. It spoke quietly to me about animals.

Explorer said there is a class of animals called "predators", meaning animals who eat other animals [some even eat each other]. Most of these so-called "predators" would eat me if I got close enough. Unlike other herbivores, or "prey" as they are often called – e.g. the zebra, the Stegosaurus – vegans don't have the herd mentality and striped skin needed to avoid predators. Nor do they have plate armor and a spiky tail to fight them off.

In denying their inner omnivore, vegans even lack the only real defense available to a plucky though tender, hairless ape: the foresight to eat first.

Forced to decide between Davey Havoc's cultic wrath and the business end of a mountain lion or Allosaurus, I decided to keep my animal-eating skills sharp by vigilantly eating less dangerous [cuter, often pre-killed] game.

As of this post, I have not yet been forced to use my skills to preemptively eat a feral cat or Velociraptor, but I live deep in the channeled scablands of Eastern Washington, and nature favors the prepared.

[A shortened version will bookend the Reader's self-styled eco-consciousness issue]

Read the full thing here.

Prophet of Rock

I've been trying not to do two entertainment posts in a row, but last night I had a hawk-eyed vision of things to come. In a couple weeks the Killers play Spokane. Lions will lie down with Lambs.

When the Killers play the Big Easy, expect a sharply divided crowd. On one side, drinking heavily, men with large-striped shirts and white hats facing backward will be moving their hips just enough to intimate movement without spilling their bull blasters. This courtship ritual will attract women wearing Stefani and Abercrombie on their bodies and something European over their eyes [Coco Chanel, Gucci]. Dressed like teens, the minimal beige gradient of their sunglasses will not hide their crows feet. The garter minis and strappy lace tanks will not hide their cesarean scars.

They will look to be having the best time of their lives.

On the other side will be lots of diminutive figures. Black hair on black hooded sweatshirts on black Dickies, shooting furtive glances around the room, hands in pockets. They'll probably only be visible when a drum kick triggers a spray of flame from the pyrotechnics cannon Clear Channel insisted the Killers use to cater to the guys in the stripes. They'll be sipping dark beers, huddled in enclaves, discussing things. Ideas. They will cling rigidly to a hierarchy built on the brand of cigarettes they smoke. No one will talk to the kid with the Marbs.

They will look vaguely dissatisfied.

I haven't decided which I'm going as.

The Killers are the kind of band to inspire exactly this kind of following in our area. Possessing the marketing clout to have had some mainstream radio time, they appeal to people who listen to Top 40 stations. Weird but kinda cool. Between 50 Cent and Kelly Clarkson, The Killers are a novel drive time interlude.

The Killers appeal also to area kids who wouldn't be caught dead listening to the radio--unless it's KEXP in streaming audio from the website--because they have a little of that post-punk, new-wave vibe, which translates loosely into indie cred. People know that, barring a second round for the Pixies reunion, a little cred is all the Inland Northwest is likely to see. These people, for some reason, haven't moved to Portland yet.

When Modest Mouse, probably the most inclusive show-bookers in the world, skips your region to play Billings and Sioux Falls, you have to know times are rough. Though it boasts a healthy local scene, our Inland Empire doesn't get much ultra-hip seeping in from outside.

Point being: at least it's somebody.

And it may turn out that their strange polarity will make for an interesting show. The Killers' arena-ized take on bands like Interpol and Franz Ferdinand hint that, even if their album didn't affect you, their show might.

[a shortened version will appear in this week's Reader]

Read the full thing here.