Well, it only took me 4 hours on the phone and a faxed utility bill, but Time Warner and Earthlink will soon be feeding my info-jonze.

This will be good news for my productivity, espeically on side-projects. I have a hard time getting any real work done without being online, and having the ability to hang out at home and do that will be nice again. As it is, once I'm done with Trellon work I'm generally so fed up with wherever it is I'm hanging out that I go straight home.

Plus I've calculated I can save about $40 a month by not buying coffee and bagels at various cafes every day (I'm avging close to $10/day in food and tips!). Even if I only work at home 3 days a week, the cost savings on food alone will offset the cost of data.

So I stole and watched Brokeback Mountain last night. It's a pretty good movie. Ang Lee is a good director, and Heath Ledger (who I only know from A Knights Tale) turned in a very unexpectedly stellar performance. Everyone else is good too, and the music is well used, and that great Western scenery adds a lot to the mix.

My only quibbles are that they didn't do such a great job of consistantly aging Ledger and Gyllenhaal with makup/costume. In some scenes they really do look 35 and haggard, and then in the next the babyface is back. Also, the film would have probably had a stronger emotional hook if I didn't already know the major plot theme. The essence of the drama is in uncertainty and denial and secrecy, so it would probably hit harder if the whole thing came more unawares.

Still, it's a good movie, deserving of audience and accolades. In terms of awards, I think the film probably got some votes for being so "brave," rather than so "good," but I don't know if any of the nominees are really any better. I didn't see Match Point, but between Brokeback, The Constant Gardner, Goodnight and Good Luck and A History of Violence, it's really a toss up. They were all good, and all sort of slow and not really revelatory. It wasn't a great year for movies.

Finally, the right-wing hysteria is clearly overblown, and actually a little bit sickening. I can't wait for my generation -- which, because it is largely tolerant and rational does not worry about the gay -- to sweep these fear-filled stuck-in-adolescence jackoffs out of the public square.

Clooney made a little jab at Jack Abramoff at the Golden Globes, here's the video. On schedule, Jack Abramoff's father, Frank, says that the joke (pretty tame stuff, pointing out that being named Jack with a last name that ends in "off" is weird) made Jack's son cry. George Clooney doesn't respond himself, but his father does:

Clooney’s father, Nick Clooney, told the newspaper: “I understand what it is like to have one’s son criticized in a very public way. It’s very painful and it’s very difficult.”

He added, “The difference here, and it must be said, is Mr. Abramoff’s son, instead of pursuing some positive efforts to do what he hoped would change the climate of the American politics, has confessed and has been convicted by that confession of subverting the political process.”

First of all, it shows a certain amount of political sophistication on the Clooney's part to have dad answer dad. Secondly, Frank Abramoff sounds like he's still in denial:

“Your words were deeply hurtful to many innocent and decent people,” Abramoff wrote. “One day the truth about my son will come out and there will be a lot of people in your industry and others lined up to apologize for their efforts to destroy him and our family.”

Dude, Frank... your son has admitted to criminal charges. He's admitted he's guilty of fraud, tax evasion and conspiracy to bribe public officials. You think that might have something to do with why your grandson teared up? I mean, Clooney might have been the trigger, but don't you think the knowledge that his father intentionally and maliciously corrupted the integrity of the United States Government (in a time of War no less!) might have a little to do with it?

Just as a for-instance, here's something Abramoff did: he took millions of dollars from China, pocketed a good chunk, and used the rest to convince people in Washington DC to prevent US Labor laws from applying to some of our South Pacific island territories near Guam. The upshot being that Chineese businesses could operate sweatshops there who's products could be fraudulently labelled "Made in the USA."

He's admitted to doing these things and has been working with investigators to report on who he bribed and how in order to keep his own ass out of jail.

Maybe this turn for state's evidence will be seen as heroic by future generations, but I think that's unlikely. It seems that Frank Abramoff has yet to accept the fact that his son criminally corrupted our government. Making a joke about someone's name may not be the nicest thing in the world, but it falls a few million rungs further down the moral ladder of wrongness.

RAGE!

When the revolution comes, Time Warner Cable will be the first with their backs against the wall. I feel sorry for the poor fuckers who answer the phones there. I've spent about 4 hours on the phone, faxed copies of utility bills and my drivers license. Still no progress, not even a consistant idea of what the heck is going on. While I'm on hold they make me listen to the audio from NY1, which is essentially an extended commercial.

This is the kind of shit that can only exist within a monopoly setting.

As I noted below, a security researcher in Florida did a proof of concept hack on a Diebold voting box. Diebold's response:

Diebold has publicly denounced the Leon County tests as being invalid. In fact, the vendor contended that Leon County Elections Supervisor Ion Sancho's decision to sponsor the hacking attempts were potential violations of licensing agreements and intellectual property rights. In a letter to Sancho on June 8, Diebold said Sancho had committed a "very foolish and irresponsible act."

This is fucking rediculous. The integrity of a democracy cannot be the "intellectual property" of a private corporation.

As I noted below, a security researcher in Florida did a proof of concept hack on a Diebold voting box. Diebold's response:

Diebold has publicly denounced the Leon County tests as being invalid. In fact, the vendor contended that Leon County Elections Supervisor Ion Sancho's decision to sponsor the hacking attempts were potential violations of licensing agreements and intellectual property rights. In a letter to Sancho on June 8, Diebold said Sancho had committed a "very foolish and irresponsible act."

This is fucking rediculous. The integrity of a democracy cannot be the "intellectual property" of a private corporation.

Though he's pretty terse already, I can't resist this old saw.

Shorter Neil Drumm: I'm not convinced.

He's got a point. The #revolution does need a kick in the pants.

Last night I rambled over to the E.Vil to see my friend and former roommate Dan, who had sent out a big TXT inviting all and sundry to the Ave B. bar run by Dictators frontman, Handsome Dick Manitoba. It was nice to see him, nice to get out in the city. That whole scene is really on another level now... Band members and Bankers, most of whom went to high school or college together. Strange social class echoes, but ok.

There are still lots and lots of pretty girls out there in the world. I'm happy where I'm at, but it's nice to know the carnival is still alive, to spectate a bit. I like to feel the tug of the scene, being around beautiful and nominally successful people. Most of the time I don't let myself enjoy that, my internal anti-elitist judgments crowding in quicklike.

As I made my way home I was wondering about the nature and necessity of authentic experience in our (my) 21st-century lives. By "authentic" I suppose I mean unmediated, unfiltered, and largely uncontrolled. It seems to me that the main curse of the postmodern condition is the awareness of referrentiality, the high saturation of irony, the paradigmatic embrace of pastiche as the underlying basis for reality. On one level I accept all these things as true, but on another level I very much dislike how hard the makes it to be "in the moment," as we used to say in Art School.

Urban living requires a certain amount of intellectual and emotional buffering on the part of the individual for the sake of survival. You have to be able to be very close to other people and treat them like objects. Coupling that with the observational perspective I'm trying to describe, the view that everything is made up of something else and that this can be investigated, unpacked, it's easy to get hung up on self-anthropology, a blend of narcissism and the deconstucting gaze.

I think this is part of the reason alcohol is such a popular drug. If you deaden enough of your forebrain, you'll eventually loose the mental capacity to maintain a critical perspective, at which point you're free from all this garbage. Problem is that you may find in reaching this point that you've scraped much of your personality off in the process, and may be unable to maintain a coherent conversation, an erection, or a number of other things which you might wish you could keep up in the moment.

When I was walking to the bar, I passed this group of people on their way to some party or another. They were done up pretty, and two of the girls had some kind of face-paint accent, a bold black equals-sign under one eye. It was striking. Because it was extraordinary enough to knock me out of my normal observational process, it caused me to re-evaluate the whole situation, leading to an authentic moment of envy. I felt that these people were most likely off to some place much more interesting and fun than me, that their lives were probably more exciting and glamorous.

Usually I don't feel that way. Usually I rigorously maintain a sense of superiority. It's part of my professional persona. Coupled with the relentless and automatic process of critical analysis, it keeps me from ever really being vulnerable, which is an essential attribute of the authentic experience, methinks.

This is old territory in a lot of ways. I've been finding myself coming back around to a lot of the good old lessons and philosophies that I built up in the past, and finding it hard to take my own advice to heart. I don't think that I'm wrong, I just find myself (or, rather, my recorded past thoughts) uninspiring. Sort of feels like a rebirth or renewal is needed. Dunno really. We'll see.

... much later on in time, it turns out this post gets a high google rank for "authentic experience." That's kind of cool. If you're into that thing, you should check the homepage and see what's shakin'.

Last night I rambled over to the E.Vil to see my friend and former roommate Dan, who had sent out a big TXT inviting all and sundry to the Ave B. bar run by Dictators frontman, Handsome Dick Manitoba. It was nice to see him, nice to get out in the city. That whole scene is really on another level now... Band members and Bankers, most of whom went to high school or college together. Strange social class echoes, but ok.

There are still lots and lots of pretty girls out there in the world. I'm happy where I'm at, but it's nice to know the carnival is still alive, to spectate a bit. I like to feel the tug of the scene, being around beautiful and nominally successful people. Most of the time I don't let myself enjoy that, my internal anti-elitist judgments crowding in quicklike.

As I made my way home I was wondering about the nature and necessity of authentic experience in our (my) 21st-century lives. By "authentic" I suppose I mean unmediated, unfiltered, and largely uncontrolled. It seems to me that the main curse of the postmodern condition is the awareness of referrentiality, the high saturation of irony, the paradigmatic embrace of pastiche as the underlying basis for reality. On one level I accept all these things as true, but on another level I very much dislike how hard the makes it to be "in the moment," as we used to say in Art School.

Urban living requires a certain amount of intellectual and emotional buffering on the part of the individual for the sake of survival. You have to be able to be very close to other people and treat them like objects. Coupling that with the observational perspective I'm trying to describe, the view that everything is made up of something else and that this can be investigated, unpacked, it's easy to get hung up on self-anthropology, a blend of narcissism and the deconstucting gaze.

I think this is part of the reason alcohol is such a popular drug. If you deaden enough of your forebrain, you'll eventually loose the mental capacity to maintain a critical perspective, at which point you're free from all this garbage. Problem is that you may find in reaching this point that you've scraped much of your personality off in the process, and may be unable to maintain a coherent conversation, an erection, or a number of other things which you might wish you could keep up in the moment.

When I was walking to the bar, I passed this group of people on their way to some party or another. They were done up pretty, and two of the girls had some kind of face-paint accent, a bold black equals-sign under one eye. It was striking. Because it was extraordinary enough to knock me out of my normal observational process, it caused me to re-evaluate the whole situation, leading to an authentic moment of envy. I felt that these people were most likely off to some place much more interesting and fun than me, that their lives were probably more exciting and glamorous.

Usually I don't feel that way. Usually I rigorously maintain a sense of superiority. It's part of my professional persona. Coupled with the relentless and automatic process of critical analysis, it keeps me from ever really being vulnerable, which is an essential attribute of the authentic experience, methinks.

This is old territory in a lot of ways. I've been finding myself coming back around to a lot of the good old lessons and philosophies that I built up in the past, and finding it hard to take my own advice to heart. I don't think that I'm wrong, I just find myself (or, rather, my recorded past thoughts) uninspiring. Sort of feels like a rebirth or renewal is needed. Dunno really. We'll see.

... much later on in time, it turns out this post gets a high google rank for "authentic experience." That's kind of cool. If you're into that thing, you should check the homepage and see what's shakin'.

The WaPo Reports:

Four times over the past year Sancho told computer specialists to break in to his voting system. And on all four occasions they did, changing results with what the specialists described as relatively unsophisticated hacking techniques. To Sancho, the results showed the vulnerability of voting equipment manufactured by Ohio-based Diebold Election Systems, which is used by Leon County and many other jurisdictions around the country.

This is the work of a state employee who's tasked with maintaining ballot security. He's showing that vote-hacking is emminantly possible. Maybe if enough of these sorts of stories get out, election officials will fix their systems before this fall's balloting. However, I still think the threat of a widespread "hack the vote" activist effort would spur them to get their rears in gear.