8.30.2006

Not Just Evil, but Crazy To Boot

Okay, so Katherine Harris is a vile human being. I’ve pretty well established my position there. I wouldn’t lift a finger to save her from a rampaging horde of fire ants (okay, so maybe fire ants don’t rampage per se, but I thought it was a colorful image).

But on top of being evil, she’s also batshit crazy.
“... that lie we have been told, the separation of church and state, people have internalized...”

“... God is the one who chooses our rulers....”

“... we’re going to have a nation of secular laws. That’s not what our founding fathers intended...”

“If you are not electing Christians, tried and true, under public scrutiny and pressure, if you’re not electing Christians then in essence you are going to legislate sin.”
In the original article, Harris also claims to have “no question” as to whether she’ll spend eternity in heaven.

Just a friendly warning, Kathy. You might want to dress lightly — I have a sneaking suspicion it’s going to be just a bit warmer than you might be planning on.

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8.29.2006

A Season for Returning

I’m curious as to how I missed this. Well, I know how I missed this — the site’s up, but the RSS feed is not (nor are comments). But August sees not only the return of Prometheus Unleashed, but also Tequila Mockingbird.

Of course, it’s only one entry, so I’m not going to get my hopes up just yet. But I’m cautiously optimistic.

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Scripted Reality Infects the Internet

We technophiles have long said that it’s only a matter of time before the Internet joins (or surpasses) television as a medium for delivering content to audiences on a large scale. With the advent of broadband across the country, we’re starting to see that happen.

As before, the low cost-of-entry means that it’s not just the media barons who can get their message out to the people, but anyone with the time and inclination (and, to be honest, at least a modicum of technical ability) can do so as well. Blogging was a prime example in the print-based arena — no longer was the mass-distribution of the written word limited to publishing houses, but available to anyone with an Internet connection. Podcasting followed, parallelling radio. And now, it looks like vlogging is where it’s at. Sure, the videophiles like me will rail against the quality concessions that still have to be made, but video production (and distribution) for the masses over the ’net has finally arrived.

The biggest mass video “distributor” on the ’net right now is unquestionably YouTube. Sure, MySpace has started incorporating video functionality (Tohubohu, in case you were wondering, has both a MySpace site and a YouTube channel). And right now, one of the most popular “channels” on YouTube (to which Pam drew my attention) is that of someone called “lonelygirl15.”

Without going into too much detail, the videos purport to be the video blog of a sweet-natured sixteen-year-old girl named Bree, who — despite having lived around the globe and being extremely smart — lives a woefully sheltered life thanks to her too-strict religious parents. She is home-schooled and appears to have few social outlets other than her church camp. Her (apparently) only friend is an eighteen-year-old boy named Daniel, who has helped her set up her vlog and secretly (or not-so-secretly) pines for her.

Oh, and she’s cute, too.

(For more information, you can do a quick Google search — though don’t bother checking Wikipedia, where the page has been rather suspiciously deleted, despite some at-times heated debate.)

Sound believable? Well, possible, maybe; my description doesn’t really do it justice. But watch the videos (along with those that Daniel posts in response to Bree’s), and you’ll see a cute little tale unfold, complete with family dramatics, young love slowly developing (or being crushed), and a couple of kids who really care about each other.

There’s just one ever-so-small problem: The whole thing’s a sham.

On traditional television, of course, the fact that it’s all fictional wouldn’t be a concern. In fact, it would pretty much be expected. But the ’net — at least historically — functions a little differently. These videos fully purport to be reality, or at least as much reality as any blogger (of vlogger) presents to the world. The producers of this little soap opera make no admission that there’s any subterfuge involved; as far as any casual (and, well, not-too-critical) observer could discern, these actually are the video posts of a teenager just trying to connect with the outside world.

There are a whole slew of dead giveaways, any one of which — taken in isolation — might be explainable. But taken as a whole, they make a conclusion inescapable.
  • The production value is too high for a couple of inexperienced teenagers.
    Certainly a debatable point, but the picture quality is leaps and bounds above your typical webcam. The lighting — though plausibly natural — is rather conveniently set up to side-light our subject very well. The audio capture is near-flawless (something I have trouble with even on our productions). The editing — though far from professional — is certainly more polished than one would expect from a couple of newcomers. And (feel free to question my “guy” credentials for this one; Pam didn’t even notice it) those eyebrows are plucked way too perfectly for a veritable shut-in.

  • The setup is ridiculously perfect.
    We’ve got a beautiful but lonely and innocent (i.e., completely unthreatening) girl whose best friend (her only friend, in fact) is the geeky guy with the tech skills. Sorry, but reality rarely puts forward a scenario so perfectly aligned with the adolescent-male YouTube demographic. Come on, this is every shy geek’s fantasy girlfriend, giving every ’net-obsessed dweeb the idea that he too can end up with the beautiful girl. Sorry, but outside of a John Hughes film, that ain’t gonna happen: This girl is out of your league.*

  • Bree’s back story is a little shaky.
    For a girl supposedly raised in New Zealand and England, her accent is pure American.

  • Beyond the first video, there are no contemporary or interactive references.
    In the first video, Bree mentions other vloggers she’s influenced by. But after that, all of her references are simple “a lot of you are saying...” stuff. And though dozens of vloggers make response videos to her posts, all of hers are either completely original or responses to Daniel (and the same holds true for Daniel’s videos). All of these things could have been shot weeks ago. Sure, she’s got some interactivity via email or on her MySpace page, but anyone can type.

  • The drama is captured far too conveniently.
    We just happen to see all the high points of Bree and Daniel’s little drama unfold — including a big argument that, for some reason, they choose to have in front of the webcam. Daniel voices an objection, of course, but lets the camera run anyway. And then Bree decides to post it (after apparently learning editing — since up until this point, it’s suppodedly Daniel who’s editing the videos). And then the resolution of this little drama — with Daniel delivering his climactic decision not to Bree, but to the Internet at large — is ludicrously pat. You can almost hear the violins swelling.

  • Bree’s parents are curiously absent.
    The most we see is a shot of Bree’s father in the doorway — his head conveniently cut off by the camera angle. Never a name shouted out from downstairs, never an appearance... nothing. Her (very strict) parents are content to let Bree while away the hours on the Internet, completely unsupervised. Oh, and they’re too strict to let Bree and Daniel go hiking together, but perfectly fine with them spending every waking hour in her room with the door closed.
And then there are a couple of “smoking gun” factors, the ones that really drove it home for me:
  • Bree’s already got a fansite — registered a full month before her first video was posted.
    The site’s proprietor claims that he didn’t register the site — Daniel did, as a joke, and happily gave it to him later on, once Bree had become popular. Sure.

  • Bree’s religion is more than it seems.
    Talk about scripted drama. We learn that Bree’s parents are very religious, and very strict, but absolutely nothing else about their religion, which Bree — though not as enthusiastically — does share. She’s home-schooled, and goes to church camp. The natural assumption is that they’re strict Christians... though the word “Jesus” curiously never comes up. And then suddenly, wham. Bree decides to take the camera from its usual position and wander a bit; in the process, we finally see a closeup of the picture on her back wall: The famous (or notorious) occultist Aleister Crowley. Most certainly not something you’d find on a strict Christian’s wall. In fact (at least in Hollywood shorthand), he’s pretty much synonymous with Satan-worship. (No, he wasn’t actually a Satanist, but that’s the common perception.) Suddenly, Bree’s little story has gained a subplot straight out of a screenwriter’s word-processor.
At this point, most of the debate (except for a few die-hard “I want to believe” types) has shifted away from “Is it real or is it fake?” to either “What’s the real story behind it?“ or “Does it even matter that it’s fake?” (Much of that debate can be seen in action here, with an interesting summary and analysis here.) To the first point, I tend to disagree with the popular notion that it’s all some sort of advertising ploy, and that at some point, Bree will start spouting clothing label names or holding her Mountain Dew up close to the camera for all to see (and at least one investigation bears this conclusion out). Rather, I think it’s just some filmmakers experimenting with a new medium, and treating definitions of “reality” as... well, flexible. Kind of like the whole Blair Witch Project campaign. Or so-called “reality television.”

As for the “does it matter” question, I suppose that’s a question that people will have to answer for themselves. For my part, the story’s sure as hell not enough to keep me coming back for more, and the characters are... well, they’re just a couple of kids. I outgrew that kind of drama... mmm, let’s just say a number of years ago. Sure, there’s a bit of a mystery here, but this little viral campaign is no Beast.

Though — speaking of “beasts” — I suppose I will admit to a little curiosity as to the viewers’ reaction once the whole “satanic cult” subplot is finally revealed.

* Okay, so I’m being a bit disingenuous here, as I obviously did end up with the beautiful girl. But in my defense, I wasn’t a “net-obsessed dweeb” — we didn’t have the Internet back then.


Well It’s About Goddamn Time

Prometheus Unleashed is finally back. No, Blogger did not finally get their act together and repair my screwed-up hosting package. No, after two weeks of down time, the total response from Blogger was... nothing. Not an electronic sausage.

So I’ve moved on. This site — at least the hosting part of it — is no longer associated with Blogger. For now, I’m still using their blogging software, but now that I’m actually on a real server, we’ll see if I can’t start using something else. No promises, but stay tuned.

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8.28.2006

Sometimes I Hate Being Right

Not that I’ve been following this in any great detail (so forgive any omission of detail on my part), but I have to say I saw this one coming.

John Mark Karr did not kill JonBenét Ramsey. The DNA didn’t match. Looks like he was just a lunatic obsessive desperate to connect himself to the case. I’m not saying he’s an upstanding citizen — especially in light of allegations that he possessed child pornography, set up a website to troll for children, and may have been involved with an underage girl in Thailand — but he’s not guilty of this crime.

With the caveat that I obviously didn’t know everything that the investigators did, I thought his story was pretty damned fishy from the start. Not that I was particularly enthusiastic about believing his family’s alibi stories (especially without any actual evidence for said alibi), but his background just screamed “child-murder-case obsessive,” not “psycho killer.” Added to the inconsistencies and flat-out contradictions in his confession (which, as it turns out, may have been misreported), I couldn’t help but think that this was a case of wishful thinking.

It would have been nice, for the family’s sake, if they had been able to finally resolve the case, but from what I did hear, I was pretty sure this wasn’t going to be that resolution. I never claimed any certainty, of course, but if I had to bet on it, I would have done so without a whole lot of hesitation.

What gets me is how quickly people switch their positions. First, it was that the parents did it, or at least someone in the family. And then a few weeks ago, pundits were screaming about how nobody was going back to apologize to the parents — after all, now they had their man! I’m curious to see what they say tomorrow.

8.27.2006

Artistic Extremes

So last Thursday Pam and I went to see Bruce Hornsby at Wolf Trap with a couple of friends. We go every year — it’s become a bit of a tradition — but even after seeing him perform any number of times, it never gets old. We try to get seats close to the front, on the left, so we can actually see his fingers dancing across the piano up close. It’s absolutely astonishing. But even more than the technical achievement, there’s the artistic: The whole first part of the set is sort of improvizational jazz — sure, there is enough of the studio version of his tunes to recognize, but that’s about it. The result is a whole new creation, mixing different tunes, going off on various riffs (which his band, the Noisemakers, picks up and expands on), and generally having a great time. At one point, he stopped and noted that he was being unusually discordant, and consciously decided to go a little more melodic for a while — but what was remarkable was that it wasn’t discord resulting from lack of attention, but discord that was entirely consistent and in keeping with the session. He may not have been consciously trying to be discordant, but artistically, he instinctively knew what he was doing.

After the jazz-like set (I hesitate to call it true jazz, as it’s still got a strong pop/rock component, but that’s the closest I can come to describing it accurately), he picked up his accordion and did a whole bluegrass segment. And then some solo piano whle the band took a break. And then back with the full band, still largely improvisational, but more conventional than the earlier stuff, with some Grateful Dead-toned material thrown in for good measure. And it wouldn’t be a Bruce Hornsby concert without inviting (at least part of) the audience up on stage to dance — a tradition that never fails to give the ushers and security folks ulcers. In fact, there was one fan who (after everyone had been ushered back off stage) managed to hide in the wings, and ran out to give Bruce a kiss mid-song; security was perturbed, but Bruce was utterly unfazed, and didn’t miss a note.

The connection with the audience was palpable — helped in no small part by the fact that the set list was completely made up of requests. The requests themselves — which used to be scribbled down on little scraps of paper piled up on stage before the show started — get more elaborate with each passing year, with full-color printouts and photos all vying for his attention. Unfortunately, the show wasn’t as well attended as in years past, so I fear that his annual concert at Wolf Trap may be on its way out. Which really would be a shame — for us, if not for him. Frankly, I think he’d be just as happy plaing small basement jazz clubs, so long as he could play, and with others who shared both his talent and enthusiasm.

I have got to pick up his new CD/DVD box set, Intersections. It can never substitute for the live show experience, but it’ll be a nice memento.

And then the next night, with the family about to head out of town to Virginia Beach for a long weekend (without me), I spent the evening with my daughters, watching their choice of entertainment.

The Cheetah Girls 2.

I never thought I’d see a film (and I use the term very loosely) that would make me sing the praises of Must Love Dogs. But this made that film look like Citizen Kane. We’re talking head-on-the-verge-of-exploding bad here. (Needless to say, I will not be picking up this DVD. Not without a fight, anyway.)

Still, I was with my little girls. So I didn’t complain.

Much.

8.24.2006

The IAU Outdoes the Death Star

Turns out that you don’t need a world-crushing laser to destroy a planet.

You just need to redefine the word “planet.” Or — to be more accurate — to define it in the first place.

Pluto is officially no longer a planet. This was really pretty much inevitable. The only reason it was still considered a planet at all was the pretty lame “because we’ve traditionally said it’s a planet.” In light of discoveries of other celestial bodies that better fit into the category of “planet” in every objectively measureable aspect, there really wasn’t much choice but to either demote Pluto or call a whole bunch of other ice balls “planets” as well.

I thought I’d feel disappointed when this decision was finally announced, but I’m finding myself actually applauding it. Maybe it’s that I abhor decisions based solely on inertia. Or maybe it’s because in the scientific arena, the minimizing of subjectivity (in this case, actually deciding what makes up a planet) is always a good thing.

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8.21.2006

Technical Difficulties

Well, it looks like the site’s been down since the 16th. So five days now. Still no word from Blogger.

I can post entries, which technically indicates that the problem’s not with the underlying Blogger software, but with the Blog*Spot hosting (I’ve got a legacy Blog*Spot Plus account, which is why I can just use the “billcoughlan.com” domain name and avoid the usual advertising headers.)

I may end up moving to a new host, but since I’m not posting so much nowadays I have to wonder if it’s worth it. Still, since none of you will be reading this unless the problem gets fixed, if Blogger doesn’t step up, I’ll either have to take that step or live with the fact that I’m just talking to myself.

Which really, given my audience size, I’m pretty much doing anyway. So it’s not all that difficult an admission.

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8.18.2006

Wingnut Evangelicals Think Mel Is A-Okay!

Well, the batshit-crazy sector has finally been heard from. You’ve got to figure they’ve been sitting around for the past few weeks thinking, “Sure, we hate the Jews as much as Mel, but we try not to say it out loud. We try to be more... subtle than that. You know, just implying that they’re agents of the Devil, wink, wink, nudge, nudge. But now we’ve got to respond to this. How embarrassing.” And then they spent weeks trying to devise a way that they could still agree with Mel (or “Melvin Gibstein,” as Penn Jillette suggests we dub him from here on out), without... you know, “agreeing” with him.

“Oh, Passion isn’t antisemitic at all. No, it’s just the way the Bible said... What do you mean, it’s not actually the way the Bible said? Nonsense! This is how I remember it, with all the kik... I mean, jews conspiring to kill our Lord and Savior! We’re all open and tolerant, you know, but come on... they are guilty here. Let’s not forget that.

“Oh, and I’m sure Mel didn’t mean any of it. It was the alcohol talking...”

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8.17.2006

Just Off the Wire: Screw You, Duh-bya

A Detroit federal judge rules the NSA domestic-spying program unconstitutional, and orders an immediate halt to the program.

Looks like there’s at least one judge that Chancellor Strauch wasn’t able to intimidate or pay off.

8.14.2006

Much Ado

Hmm... apparently there’s a bit of a brouhaha over some comments redneck* Senator George Allen made to an opposition videographer. I’ve looked at the footage in question, and... as much as I want to bash Allen (who more than deserves it), I just don’t see it here.

Read the transcripts and you might think something was going on, but watching the tape? I honestly don’t think Allen was going for a slur — not to mention making one up while he was at it. He’s not that smart. As much as I hate to admit it, it really looks like he had been misinformed as to the guy’s name, and was just trying to use what he’d been told. He’s in full-on politico mode here. As for the “welcome to America” bit, maybe it was someething, maybe not. But coming on the heels of his (dim-witted) “Hollywood” comments, it seems perfectly fitting in the right-wing GOP context.

Not that I vote anymore anyway, but I’d like to see this weasel removed on his merits (or lack thereof), not on something this apparently weak. Come on, bring out the real weaponry.

* Lest anyone accuse me of bigotry, back in his Governor days, Allen used to wear the “redneck” name proudly, and happily played into the stereotype, even having a spittoon installed in his office (he has a rather nasty tobacco-chewing habit). Oh, I’ll gladly use the term in a derogatory manner when it suits me, no apologies. But here it’s strictly a self-selected label.


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8.08.2006

Would You Like to Play a Game?

Hot damn!

I just won the Protégé chip design competition! The new top-of-the-line chip set from Sidepot Gaming Company is going to be my design. And — naturally — I get a set.

Alas, the chips won’t be coming out until October, but hell, I’ll wait.

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8.03.2006

Coolness Abounds

Pam directed me to another bit of amazing coolness this morning: A Lego recreation of Apple’s classic 1984 commercial.

As she noted, she felt safe forwarding it to me, as even though it sells for nearly $200, it’s sold out. (Of course, they do have a mailing list where they’ll tell you when they’re back in stock...)

Of course, she might be a little less than pleased to learn that I just bought my first Christmas decoration of the year. Hey, it was on clearance for only five bucks — how on Earth could I pass up a holiday commemmoration of the best Christmas movie ever?

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A Message From Sam the Man

This has got to be one of the more fun movie promotion ideas I’ve run across in a long time. Hell, I’m sending these things all over the place...