Cultural de-evolution, illustrated

I have to plead ignorance on this one.

Up until about 30 minutes ago, I was entirely unaware that one of the most widely-seen photos of Paris Hilton, crying in the back of a police car, was taken by the same photographer who captured the iconic and influential image of 9-year-old Kim Phuc running, naked, from her napalmed village in Vietnam. The later photo was shot 35 years to the day after the earlier, by AP photographer Nick Ut.

Here's an insightful article by Philip Kennicott of the Washington Post, exploring the few commonalities and the vast gulf between the two images, in terms of time, culture... and the definition of pain.

Cool lodgings

If you're looking for a place to stay in Connecticut, and you love unique surroundings -- and you have a lot of discretionary income -- take a look at the Winvian Inn in Litchfield Hills.

The inn's web site is warm, beautiful and whimsical -- matching the look of inn itself -- and rightfully says "A place like this is difficult to describe."

The Winvian is made up of 18 cottages -- and I use that term loosely. They range from Stone, built of massive boulders, to Helicopter (literally), to Treehouse, which is, yes, a treehouse. A two-story one. I didn't see any "No girls allowed" signs, but there were license plates covering the fireplace. Fireplaces and snowshoes seem to be standard equipment.

If you think you're going to be roughing it, think again. The place is saturated with amenities and appointments.

The next time I have a couple thou to spend on a night's stay in the New York vicinity, I'll be staying there.

http://www.winvian.com/

Lemons and apples and pears, oh my...

Anyone who knows me knows I'm a curmudgeon bachelor. Although I have been known to enjoy watching cooking shows now and then, I don't cook. No, I mean really. Oh, I microwave frozen dinners, or do the occasional bacon and eggs breakfast or bare-bones salad, or make a nice sandwich (I am a man, after all). But no serious time over the stove, no ingredients, no seasonings, no heat-on-low-until-blah-blah-blah.

For years, I ate as much as a quarter to a third of my meals out... or, more accurately, as take-out. Fast food, Chinese take-out, whatever was on the way home, or whatever my mouth was drooling for at that moment. So I ingested my own personal Recommended Daily Allowance of fat, sodium, and other delicious things.

Occasionally, I'd buy more groceries than usual, especially when the freelance work was thin. It's tough buying for one, but cheaper and healthier than three of Jack's burgers a week.

But now I'm a little older [*koff*], and work has been so good over the last few months that I've spent just about every waking hour in front of my Mac, doing graphic design. And I moved from Beachwood Canyon to downtown, so the scenery isn't as conducive to walking. Even though I love the Disney Concert Hall, there are no trees to speak of, no deer, and no coyotes. Well, four-legged ones, at least.

The combination of 16/7 working hours and polluted urban trails has added about 15 pounds of pure joy to the world... largely in the vicinity of my belt.

All of this is to say... My blood pressure is up. It's not horrible, and my doctor says he thinks I can manage it with diet and exercise. I think he's right. After all, I'm clearly a brilliant diagnostician. Like... House. Without the cane. Or the pills. And less attitude. But still as funny.

The exercise I can handle; even though downtown's not Runyon Canyon, it'll do. Plus, I have this secret stash of Pilates DVDs. (If you tell anyone, I'll hunt you down and force you to do my taxes.)

As for the diet component... The trick for someone like me is to find a way to eat low-carb while not having to cook. And without driving one's self insane with palate boredom.

Now when I say "cook" I don't mean whipping out a frying pan. My broadened definition includes actually handling raw foods, and mixing them or chopping them or preparing them in any way beyond cutting a slit in the protective plastic wrap over the vegetable and nuking on HIGH for 7 minutes, letting stand in microwave for 1 to 2 minutes before serving.

But, today I went to the grocery store in hopes of changing my buying and eating habits. Today, I was going to do something bold and noble. Today... I was going to spend more than 2 minutes in the Produce section.

At the front door, I grabbed a cart, then headed straight for the green stuff.

As I stepped across a wooden parquet threshold, a chill ran down my spine... partly because of the refrigerated case on my right, but also because I realized I had no idea what to buy.

It was like entering some exotic rain forest, with a great variety of plant species, hunters stalking their prey, and even rain showers. (At this store, when the little water nozzles mist the veggies, the display case plays a recording of a couple of claps of thunder. Maybe to warn off anyone who doesn't want their hair to frizz.)

I was surrounded by small alien creatures, all huddled together, mocking me with their healthy nutrients, ready to leap off the shelf as I passed, just to make it look like I knocked them off.

One vegetable caught my eye. At least... I assumed it was a vegetable.

"What's that?" I thought. "It's sort of yellowish and round. And that? Kind of purple and bulbous. Hmmm... Maybe I could look at the price card to see what it is... Hopefully all those women will just think I'm comparing prices."

I wandered slowly around the islands of apples from Washington and bananas from South America, and onions from-- well, from out of some farmer's dirt. As I passed the cases of iceberg lettuce and broccoli, and through the pre-packaged greens, I tried to visualize myself buying them... then taking them home... then actually... MAKING something with them.

It was a close analogue to the Came-to-School-Not-Knowing-There's-a-Final-Exam-Today dream.

I was totally unprepared for this moment.

(Note that this is not quite as bad as the Walking-Down-the-Hall-Naked dream, but it's close.)

After long minutes of staring, glassy-eyed at the colorful, bewildering display before me, I grabbed four Rome apples, two nice, plump tomatoes, one large white onion, and two bags of precut, triple-washed American Mix lettuce-- and headed for the lunch meats.

Now, I did get several pouches of tuna (chunk light in water, of course -- I know at least that much), but I succumbed to a pint of ice cream, which I'll eat one spoonful at a time.

What's obvious now is that before my next trip to the store, I not only need to make a shopping list, I also need to complete an online cooking course.

Maybe just Salads 101.

I shall endeavor to report again once I have conquered the Forest of Fruits and Veggies.

Drunk driver, or just shooting?

The number of film productions shooting in and around downtown LA, where I live, has been thin of late. And now with the season and the writers strike, things will slow pretty much to a graveyard-like atmosphere.

But there are still one or two pictures doing their thing. There's a production that's taken over a parking lot for use as a basecamp, complete with expensive Fleetwood motor homes. Nice budget.

But there are some productions on the other end of the spectrum, too.

For example... I just walked in the door after another great walk in downtown LA. I started at 5pm, so most of the walk was lit by streetlights. Up 1st Street from my loft, through Little Tokyo with its young, fashionable Japanese tourists and noodles & sushi shops, past The Beehive (LA City Hall), up Bunker Hill, turning left onto Grand and past the iconic Disney Concert Hall by Frank Gehry.

It was a beautiful fall-ish evening. Perfect for a walk... Cool, a wind in the trees, people going to the symphony...

And a guy in a black SUV, backing up at a fair rate of speed, with his lights off. But Grand is divided, and he was coming up the left side of the street, as if he'd just gone the wrong way and was trying to find his vehicle's Undo command.

He stopped backing, and I noticed that he was talking on his cell phone.

Then he started backing up some more. Then, suddenly, he threw it into forward, turned on his headlights and tore off down the street on the wrong side.

"Good gawd, he's gonna to kill somebody," says I.

I got out my cell phone and started to dial 9-1-1... But then he stopped, facing the wrong way, in an open spot at the curb. And as I got closer to his position, I noticed a dozen or so people there on the sidewalk. Then, closer, over a slight rise, there were two cops with red-tipped flashlights stopping traffic.

Naturally, someone was shooting something.

The driver had backed up fast, nearly a block, with no one to direct him from behind, no PA's with walkies, no one from the production at all. And the camera position was totally invisible from that distance, on the unlit part of the block.

All you could see was a guy on a cell phone driving like he'd just emptied a pony keg single-cuppedly.

So I walked up to the little crew -- me being the shy type when it comes to idiots endangering public safety. All they had was a still camera, and a small video camera.

I mentioned that the situation didn't look very safe, and that I thought the guy was drunk and had almost called 9-1-1.

The small clot of twentysomethings looked at me as though I was wearing some sort of live reptilian swamp creature for a hat.

"But we have police here."

I said, "But there's no one down the block. You need a PA or a cop or someone down there. It's not very safe, and someone's going to call the police."

There was a pause.

"But we have police here."

These twentysomethings were smartly dressed...

But not smartly-brained.

So, when you're in LA and you see someone who appears to be driving hammered, or who appears to be hip or intelligent... don't jump to conclusions.

And watch out for backup lights.

The Tommy Boy Gambit

Today, a man walked into the Rochester, New Hampshire campaign office of Hillary Rodham Clinton, opened his jacket, and showed campaign workers what he said was a bomb.

CNN received a phone call from a distraught worker inside the office, and put him on the phone. The man, Leeland Eisenberg, told CNN he has mental problems, and could not get the help he needed. He demanded to speak with senator Clinton.

Eisenberg is well known to local police; he was said to be due in court this afternoon in a domestic violence case involving his wife, and he was known to have mental issues.

For 5 and a half hours, Eisenberg held police at bay, gradually releasing hostages. Finally, he surrendered to the SWAT team waiting for him outside, and I watched that arrest live. Or... semi-live, since CNN added a several-second delay, just in case something went horribly wrong.

Now, here's the thing...

Last night, the movie Tommy Boy was on cable. I'd never seen it, and heard it was funny, so I watched.

In the climax of the movie, Tommy (Chris Farley) straps on a "bomb" and walks into the corporate offices of the company his father founded, in an attempt to get control back from con artists. He demands to speak with the board of directors.

TV cameras are there, live, as he tells his story. When someone mentions the bomb, he says, "What, this? Nah, it's not a bomb. These are just road flares."

Tommy provides proof that the usurpers are cons, regains control of the company, preserves a factory town's jobs and economy, and gets the girl (Julie Warner. Yeah, I know. But it's a fantasy pic).

So, a clock, some tape and a few road flares turn Tommy Boy into a hero.

During the standoff today, Eisenberg's stepson reportedly told someone at a cafe in the area that last night, his father had asked him where he might get some road flares.

Now, I'm not necessarily saying that the movie is responsible for Leeland Eisenberg's actions. After all, the man clearly needs help.

I'm just really curious whether Leeland has cable...

ExpressionEngine - Mmmmm... Power...

[Before we start... No, there's nothing wrong with BlogSpot. Yes, it's been 5 months since I posted.]

So, a new scheme to take over the world came to mind. Now what I needed was a way to build a dynamically-served web site that allowed visitors to build a sort of directory, and to let others rate those listings.

Now, for a code monkey, this would be easy. But for a designer who does a little script-tinkering now and then, it was a bit daunting. Sure I could hire someone else to program the site, but I'm a stingy old curmudgeon. And besides, I've done a few simple Perl scripts and edited a PHP script or two.

So I asked in the FutureQuest community forums if anyone could recommend a good publishing package-- open source or otherwise. One user said she works with ExpressionEngine and loves it... So I downloaded and installed it.

I'm not as quick to pick up a new system as I once was, so it took me a bit of time to wrap my brain around the template-and-tag framework, but it started sinking in.

...And I realized that I might just have to consider making some of the sites I build for clients dynamic instead of static.

EE's what they promise: really flexible. With a couple of third-party modules and a little hacking, I've been building the site with -- so far, at least -- all of the features I'd planned.

I even managed to tackle my first Ajax to add some functionality. Although it isn't fancy, it's always a nice ego boost to teach yourself new tricks, especially when you're an old dog.

I consider this first build to be something between a proof-of-concept and a Version 1 release. If interest in the site takes off as I hope, I'm certain I'll get millions in first-round funding, hire Google-grade programmers, roll out version 1, attract millions of users, and after only 1 year, sell the site for Maserati-and-Malibu-Home money.

For now, though... it's not even in alpha shape.

But I hope to have an invite-only Beta version up within the next 30 days.

When it starts coagulating, I'll post here.

The Obama MySpace Drama

...or should I say "melodrama"?

In 2004, a guy named Joe Anthony created an unofficial fan page for Barack Obama, after hearing his keynote address at the Democratic National Convention. "I was just blown away," he's reported to have said.

Thus began Joe's role as a volunteer. For over two years, he posted biographical info, answered emails, and helped to build a MySpace "friends" network of more than 30,000. When Obama entered the race, this gave Obama the largest MySpace presence -- unofficial as it was. The network grew, and as of April 30, it had reached 160,000. Over time, Anthony and the Obama campaign had built an amiable relationship.

But because of the increased growth, Anthony started having a difficult time putting in the long hours necessary to keep the profile up.

At the same time, Obama campaign officials began to become concerned about maintaining the accuracy of the profile, and about centralized control in general... which is vital to a presidential campaign.

So, Anthony asked the campaign to bring him on board as a consultant, and to pay him for his work. The campaign, in turn, offered to reimburse him for his efforts to date, and asked him to come up with a figure. this payment would apparently be a one-time fee, after which the campaign would control the profile.

TechPresident.com reports that Anthony told them:

I considered the time I had put into it from January 1st of this year, not counting the previous two years. It was about $39,000. Plus I asked that if any fees were to be paid to MySpace by the campaign up to that point in time, those should be shared with me, up to $10,000.

The campaign turned down that number, and eventually decided to ask MySpace to hand over control of the profile to them, which they did.

Anthony says the campaign scheduled conference calls with him to discuss the matter, but "each after another would be postponed at the last minute. This went on for weeks."

"It got to the point where I didn't feel comfortable turning the profile over to the campaign unless they paid for it. This was largely symbolic."

Motivations

Symbolic of what, Joe? Symbolic of the fact that you've lost sight of the goal? Symbolic of the fact that you apparently have forgotten the definition of the term "volunteer"? Or just symbolic of your righteous indignation?

Don't get me wrong here... If all you say in your email to Micah at TechPresident is true, the campaign botched their handling of this matter, and their relationship with you. Seems like they screwed that up completely.

In the end, though, I have to ask "What were you thinking?"

First, when your hours as a volunteer became unmanageable, why didn't you simply ask the campaign to take over the profile, at no cost to them? That way, all those long hours would be over, and the man you believe should be the next president of the United States would be given a leg up.

Sure, I might have asked the campaign to bring me on as a consultant. But when the campaign asked you to name a figure for a buy-out... why did you?

Why didn't you let the campaign name their own figure? It would have allowed you to make some money, the campaign would have been able to afford it, and you could have maintained your reputation as a volunteer, or at least as a generous, accommodating supporter. It seems to me that -- as a volunteer and a believer in the cause -- this would have been the wise and right thing to do... if, you felt somehow compelled to charge for your previously-volunteer work.

But, you came up with a number. You say you worked 5 to 10 hours a day. Let's average that to 8. There are about 120 days in the first quarter of the year, so that makes 960 hours if you worked 7 days a week. For a total of $39,000, that's about $40.63 an hour. Okay, not bad. I have no idea what a campaign consultant normally makes, but that wouldn't seem to me to be an unreasonably high hourly rate.

Then there's the $10,000 in fees linked to those paid to MySpace. I'm just not getting how that's supposed to work, since you say that's based on fees that were paid to MySpace, not you... but yet, you wanted to share them. You wanted parity with MySpace? Why? Seems like an arbitrary fee to me. Why not just ask to be reimbursed for your own time?

In any event, when the campaign turned down your number, why didn't you make another, lower offer? Or maybe you did, and I'm missing it in all the reports and blogs and emails.

The thing is that at some point in this process, you crossed a line from being an inspired volunteer to being a person who expects to get paid for his work... and then complained when the campaign didn't agree to go along with this new status you felt somehow unilaterally entitled to.

So... when did that happen? When did you stop being a volunteer? When did you stop believing in Barack Obama, and start believing that getting paid was more important?

I would imagine that your response would be "because they bullied me", as you've said elsewhere.

But did they? How and when did they do that? Didn't they offer to pay you something? Just because you and the campaign couldn't agree on a number... does that constitute bullying?

Just because they decided to take control of the profile that you, in principle, wanted them to take control of in the first place... does that constitute bullying?

Campaign professionals?

Again, the flip side of the coin is that you folks with the Obama campaign seem to have handled this very badly indeed.

Chris Hughes at the campaign seems to have been the point man. For those of you who don't know, Chris is the co-founder of Facebook, and serves as the campaign's online organizer.

In Joe's email to Micah at TechPresident, he says:

I was accused of using this profile for commercial purposes. I was threatened that I would be responsible if the profile was deleted (they even followed up via email to be sure I knew it was my fault!) The conversation really was about them taking control of the profile. There was no counter offer, or anything to suggest that they had any intention of paying me anything at all.

Chris Hughes: Why didn't you make a counter-offer?

It sounds to me like you were thinking of a much lower range when you asked Joe to present a number for the fee... and when he came up with nearly $50,000, you.. well, you just wigged out.

You thought he was trying to gouge you.

Now, while the best way to deal with some people who try to gouge you is to strong-arm them, that isn't the case with a high-profile volunteer for your organization-- an organization with very lofty goals and which seems to value inclusion and volunteerism.

Chris, this isn't Silicon Valley, and Joe Anthony isn't some venture capitalist involved in a hostile takeover of your company.

Why did you cancel repeated phone conferences and not talk to Joe about this before asking MySpace to hand over control?

Your actions say a lot about your inability to handle delicate matters, Chris... and I certainly hope that no matter what role you play in the Obama campaign, that you mature very quickly... or that you be denied a role in an Obama administration.

In fact, I believe that Barack Obama should fire you immediately.

Belief is demonstrated through action

Yes, Joe, they wronged you. They screwed up.

But is the point of all your hard work to teach some campaign workers a lesson?

I was under the impression you were doing it to support the Obama campaign and all that it stands for.

You built a gift, Joe. You lovingly hand-crafted it. But when it took longer to build than you thought it would, you asked the recipient to pay you for it... or at least part of it.

Would you do this to a friend? Or to a loved one, say, on Christmas morning?

"Glad you like the toys, kids! But, hey, Daddy found out that they cost a little more than he thought they would. So each of you will need to get a job for the next month to pay me back for that overage."

Sound silly? Sure. But the principle is the same.

When the hours became unmanageable, the right thing to do -- as a volunteer and a true believer -- would be to go to the campaign and say, "I can't handle this any more... Please take it over." If they then offered to bring you on as a consultant, or offered you some amount of money... well, that would be the Icing on your Cake of True Belief.

Either you're a volunteer... or you're not. There's no such thing as a "consulteer".

In other words, it seems that the right thing to do as a real volunteer would be to offer the profile as a contribution to the campaign. That's the kind of thing volunteers do.

Instead, by asking to be paid, you set these events in motion. You took your eye off the ball. Perhaps you never intended to act or look like a profiteer, but a lot of people now see it that way.

Righteous indignation toward the recipient negates any intended altruism. As the old saying goes, never give a gift expecting to one day be repaid.

Mistakes were made:

- Joe Anthony should have offered the profile to the campaign, free of charge.

- Chris Hughes should never have asked Joe to come up with a number for a fee.

- Joe should never have come up with a fee, and should have asked Chris to name a number he felt comfortable with.

- Chris should not have wigged out over Joe's number, and should have simply negotiated with him, while maintaining cordial relations.

- No matter what Chris' counter-offer might have been, Joe should have taken it.

...That is, if things had ever gotten that far.

It all boils down to this: you both screwed up royally. You both acted badly. But, sorry to say, Joe... you started it.

Now, after Chris Hughes is fired from the Obama campaign, let's move on to the real issues, and elect Barack Obama President.