Tilting at windmills for a better tomorrow.
After the recent mugging in front of our house, I was talking to our Renaissance Faire (“renfaire” ?) geek neighbor about what we could do as a neighborhood. His response:
“We have ways of dealing with this. We’ll just get nine guys in full leathers and broadswords to do some rehearsing in broad daylight. That’ll scare ’em off.”
This was a grown man talking. I kid you not.
birdhouse hosting welcomes asecondopinionfilm.com, a site promoting a documentary film by J-School student Hadas Ragolsky.
A Second Opinion is a 25-minute documentary film that takes the viewer on a journey to the occupied Territories with Physicians for Human Rights-Israel, a group of Israeli doctors, nurses and human rights activists who provide medical care for Palestinians.
Ever notice how your local paper seems perfectly credible until you read an article on something you actually know a lot about? All of a sudden it seems like journalists know nothing, and you wonder: If this piece is so ill-informed, then what stories can I count on to be well informed?
Bloggers tend to write about what they know (myself excluded). If bloggers present an actual threat to traditional journalism (as is often suggested at jschool seminars), it’s not because the public isn’t discriminating enough to care, it’s because no journalist can know (or research) everything about everything. Bloggers sidestep this problem by virtue of sheer numbers.
In fact, when it comes to many topics in which I have a professional interest, I would sooner pay attention to particular blogs than to anything published in Big Media – including the venerable New York Times. This is not necessarily because journalists are idiots; it’s just that serious subjects are complicated and hacks have neither the training nor the time to reach a sophisticated understanding of them – which is why much journalistic coverage is inevitably superficial and often misleading, and why so many blogs are thoughtful and accurate by comparison.
Fascinated by comments in Peter, Paul, and Mary from people who have lived in or who currently live in France and Spain, saying that those countries’ governments maintain active lists of allowable names for babies. Naturally, these lists are Biblically derived. The thought of a similar tradition continuing on in the U.S. is almost impossible to imagine, and it amazes me that Europeans are sufficiently complicit with the tradition to not be rioting in the streets over such a fascistic and unfree practice. How can such a personal choice be considered government business in 2003?
Continue reading “France, Spain Control Baby Names”
Weekend in Paso Robles, visiting family at brother’s new house. Hot and dry, surrounded by pastures and orchards. People have real acreage and elbow room, in exchange for lots of dust, foxtails in the socks, and eight miles to nearest store. Sushi feast with family at golden hour. None of them had seen Miles since he was three months old. Now he sits on dad’s motorcycle (not running) and smiles wide. Hooked up chintzy FM transmitter to iPod and listened to David Sedaris stories much of the trip. Coast highway home, it’s been a long time. Over the past 20 years I’ve negotiated this, the most beautiful highway in the nation, in a ’66 VW bus, ’82 Honda kook car, ’78 convertible bug, family station wagon, various motorcycles, our capable Camry. Stopped at Nepenthe for hummus and endless Pacific view in warm air of early summer. The last weekend out before big push of packing, moving in to new place, the start of the DIY projects cycle.