Todd Stadler's blog

states' rights wronged

I have been reading a lot lately about the Portland police's refusing to cooperate with the federal government's attempt to question 5000 immigrants in the United States.

It's rather hard to avoid - not only has the front page mentioned it for the past several days, but the letters to the editor section is full of irate, scared people and a handful of civil libertarians. (The Oregonian's XML processing leaves something to be desired, so some of these letters to the editor are formatted poorly. Yay local media!)

These letters don't differ very much in content. Most of them attempt to express disgust at the whole city of Portland for the actions of a very few. This intrigues me. As if I or anyone else who read the letter could do much now about the legal opinion of the city attorney, or the Oregon law he based his decision upon.

But apparently laying blame on those who are responsible is not dramatic enough. It makes me wonder if these same letter writers express disgust at the United States of America every time a federal official does something morally or legally wrong. Not that that ever happens. Heavens, no.

Of course, very few people seem to mention the whole legal side to this issue. It's apparently not very important. After all, these times are about standing united in a fight against terrorism, so never mind what the law says. So goes the subtext of most of the letters.

But what frightens me most is that these letters often demand a lack of intellectual thought. This is especially obvious in letters that state that Portland's attitude would be different had there been terrorist attacks nearby. Apparently, Portland's disdain for The American Way (not, mind you, "our" legal interpretations of existing laws) stems from our feeling safe on this side of the continent.

The not-so-subtle suggestion here is that the only people who are capable of thinking correctly in these times are those who are currently suffering the physical and emotional trauma caused by the terrorist attacks. That people whose thinking is calm and not influenced by fear are, in fact, thinking too much.

While I certainly grieve for the impact these attacks had on our country, I do not think that they are a license to let those wracked by fear and anger to do what they want to because they were wronged.

That is tantamount to vigilante justice. Should we also ask a woman who has been raped if her attacker deserves a fair trial by his peers, with all the ensuing legal protections afforded him? Or should we ask a man who has lost a son to a drunk driver if his attacker deserves to die, regardless of what the verdict or sentence that results in his trial is? Should we get rid of our courts and simply ask the victims what they think should happen to their accused attackers?

Thankfully, our country's legal system is not built on such thinking. Though we may hate them, criminals are afforded the protection of a system that assumes they are innocent until proven guilty. At least in theory.

So I do not think that the attitude of people in Portland is to be ignored because our city was not attacked. Nor do I think that the voices of people who have experienced directly the effects of terrorism should be silenced. Thankfully, in this representative democracy, everyone's opinion, from the cold liberal intellectual to the bleeding-heart right-winger, is welcome and necessary.

But our voices and opinions are not the law. And the law seems to be something we're more than willing to overlook right now, because we as Americans are scared. And suddenly, one lawyer's opinion that an Oregon state law prevents unhindered questioning of people who are not suspected of a crime (other than being immigrants) is now un-American.

Never mind that the people of Oregon passed that law to stop the random questioning of migrant farm workers by the police. Never mind that the Constitution allows states to grant their citizens more rights than those granted by the government. Never mind that the federal government has (or is supposed to have) checks and balances on it to prevent it from acting singlemindedly. No, we're scared and we want something done about it now, so forget the law.

Does no one realize the inherent dangers in this thinking? This is the thought process of armed insurgents and even terrorists, who find the law inconvenient or contrary to what they want, so they get it through intimidation. It is the thought process of those who jailed American citizens of Japanese descent in World War II. It is the thought process of the McCarthy era. These things are nearly universally reviled by modern Americans. Why, then, do we now choose this path?

For that matter, has anybody bothered to question the effectiveness of interrogating these 5000 immigrants? Is it assumed that because Ashcroft is a federal official, he can do no wrong? For all the lambasting Portland has received for not participating, you'd think that this process was sure to rid the country of all terrorist threats.

So if I understand it correctly, any terrorists or friends of terrorists will simply tell us what they were planning to do and turn themselves in, then? They won't lie, because this is a federal investigation, and clearly the terrorists respect and fear our laws? I mean, I'm not saying such questioning would turn up nothing, but this isn't Murder, She Wrote. Simply asking a person about wrongdoing will not cause them to 'fess up in a revealing flashback. Is it possible that we Americans are clutching at straws in an attempt to feel that something is being done to protect us?

And why is it that it's the Republicans who are attempting to ignore Oregon's voter-approved state rights (in this case and elsewhere)? Isn't the GOP supposed to be the party of the small federal government, in favor of states' rights and all that? Didn't Bush say that "while... there's a role for the federal government, it's not to impose its will on states and local communities"? Was that all just a bunch of hooey?

Not that both sides aren't playing politics, mind you. I'm fairly certain that Leahy is just grandstanding to make the Democrats look like our close friends again. But sometimes the best thing the government does is accuse the other half of the government of doing something wrong.

I have one final thought on all this. In the 1970's, Oregon governor Tom McCall became famous for saying "Come and visit us again and again. ... But, for heaven's sake, don't come here to live." This statement was received by those outside the state (especially to our south) as arrogant. After all, Oregon is mostly populated by immigrants, as is this country.

I find it odd, then, that the federal government, with its new power to detain immigrants and listen in on their conversations with their attorneys, its attempt to question immigrants solely because they are immigrants, and its general disdain for the rights of immigrants, would find itself at odds with a state that also seems to discourage its visitors to stay.

Oh, but don't you worry about it all if you're a citizen here. You're safe. The federal government would never come after you. After all, that would be unconstitutional.

microsoft on crime?

As others have pointed out, the proposed $1 billion settlement for Microsoft's anti-trust case makes no sense whatsoever.

Never mind the $4 billion accounting error (whoops!) that makes the settlement less in value than it could or should have been.

I just want to know why making a software provider donate computers (which, hey, run the software of said provider, wow!) to schools is punitive.

When these computers start to fall apart, or, heaven forfend, get too buggy to deal with, how do you think the schools will deal with upgrading their software? Will they install Linux, which has very little educational software that is used widely? Will they throw away their PCs and buy Apple computers? Or will they buy more Microsoft software?

Is it possible that these schools - which are too poor to buy their own computers - are just another increase in Microsoft's consumer pool? And isn't it odd that educational software was an area previously dominated by Apple, whose hold on the market is slipping?

Is it too late to just replace what our government with an meritocracy or gerontocracy or something?

the day after thanksgiving

The day after Thanksgiving is, of course, either Buy Nothing Day or The Biggest Shopping Day of the Year. Julia and I attempted to find the middle path between these two philosophies.

We ended up buying one cup of coffee each.

I mean, I hate to be part of the capitalist machine, but I detest just as much sitting at home with those self-righteous Adbuster types, whose wonderful products can be bought here.

the minute after thanksgiving

Of course, the exact moment that Thanksgiving stopped, all thought of giving thanks ended, and the time for getting things started. Christmastime is here! (RealAudio format)

It occurs to me that in America, we treat Christmas (aka "happy holidays") like we treat sex.

There's this huge expectation on everybody's part that it's going to be so wonderful this time. It'll be the best ever - it has to be, since everything else has been so-so. We pin all our hopes on it to be the thing that justifies all the trouble we've been through. We even go so far as to be nice to people just because of it (a niceness that, it barely merits noting, rarely lasts past the event). Ultimately, the event becomes the build-up, the anticipation.

When the object of all our energies actually happens, it's mildly disappointing. It's over way too fast. Our anticipation overestimated the significance of the event.

Of course, to recoup time spent, we try to make the warm glow last as possible, but you can only do so much, and besides, it's cold.

Nota bene: readers should be careful to not read anything about my personal sex life (or lack thereof) into this screed.

Mind you, in an ideal world, we would also treat Christmas like we treat sex. That is, as one part of a satisfying relationship in which we acknowledge the special intimacy that comes from being near someone in the flesh. This part would not overshadow the rest of the relationship, but extend from it and strengthen it. And it wouldn't just be about me, me, me.

But then, talking about Jesus at Christmastime is out of place. My bad.

how i gave thanks

Thanksgiving this year was nice.

Of course, most Thanksgivings are nice. It's hard to complain about a holiday in which you're near your loved ones, you eat a lot, and you don't do much else. Especially when you're not doing much else with your wonderful girlfriend nearby.

As we did last year, we had a non-traditional Thanksgiving feast at Morgan and Aaron's house. I guess that makes it quasi-traditional.

We had Cajun food (turducken), Austrian food (knodel ... no, not that Knodel), and Chinese food ( jiaozi aka dumplings aka potstickers), which Julia and I made 72 (!) of.

So, um, I guess I'm thankful for America's hodgepodge of cultures.

There's something very theraputic about making lots of dumplings. You're sitting there with a stack of wonton wrappers, a bowl of water, and a larger bowl of uncooked pork. And you just fold and fold and fold. I'd say it's very Zen, but I don't really know what that means.

Another fun aspect of cooking Asian food was justifying a trip to Uwajimaya, "the largest Asian Grocery & Gift Market in the Pacific Northwest".

Imagine walking into a large supermarket and finding that the regular produce aisle has been replaced with one in which all the vegetables have horns. That is roughly what it is like to shop at Uwajimaya. It is at once exciting and confusing. Suffice to say that it is easier to find a fruit you have never heard of than, say, a tomato.

It's a heck of a lot better than this grocery store, I'll tell you that much.

muhammed television

This is stupid beyond belief. We're going to use MTV to win the hearts and minds of the Arab world?!

We're going to take people who hate our decadent immoral lifestyle and ply them with the likes of Carson Daly and Britney Spears, or their Middle Eastern equivalents?

We're going to attempt to convince a culture radically different from ours that we're not so arrogant and evil by showing them ladies dancing to a funky beat?

I mean, did the Onion buy out CNN and no one told me?

If I were to compile a list of grudges people in other countries should hold against America, I'm fairly certain that MTV would be in the top 20 countdown.

the family debacle

Bil Keane, you have gone too far this time!

Like many people my age, I enjoy reading Family Circus. Not because it is funny, and not because I find it delivers poignant messages about life suitable for putting on the fridge. No.

I read it because it's so hackneyed and maudlin that it seems almost self-satirizing.

And then along comes a strip like the one from last Sunday (free registration required to see the cartoon, sorry).

I suppose it's meant to be a heartwarming strip for Thanksgiving, with an enduring message about the simple joys of family during the holidays.

But can anybody possibly read it like that?

I mean, come on! For one thing, I have long struggled with the whole "Granddad's ghost" character. I know he is supposed to be a touching reminder of the afterlife in some vaguely Christian way, but he only serves to upset me.

If indeed he is in heaven, why is he so interested in the goings-on of the earth below? Are the eternal pleasures of being in the presence of God not enough for him? Are we supposed to believe that the souls of the dead would rather watch television than worship their savior?

But even accepting this ham-fisted device, I am no happier with this strip.

For one thing, Granddad has gone from being a mere warmth-inducing spirit to actually appearing to Dolly, distracting her from prayer, no less.

And moreover, this supposed family-friendly patriarch is now avoiding the family at their Thanksgiving meal, eschewing their loving community for a stupid football game. What a nice message that is.

You can practically read Granddad's thought bubble: "When I was alive, I was forced to eat that crummy food and talk to all those blasted kids. But now that I am dead, I can finally watch my beloved football in peace! I'm so glad I'm dead."

Family entertainment, my foot.

So does anybody actually read this strip anymore, then, or are we all going through the motions of reading it as much as Bil is in drawing it? Just wondering.

the people's food court

The beer taste test was held at Lloyd Center ("Oregon's biggest mall", sadly).

As such, I found myself hanging out at the food court, surely the most American part of the mall, itself the most American experience.

There, among such wonderful eateries as Let's Talk Turkey and The Steak Escape, I saw a most peculiar sign. I think it was at Wok 'N' Roll.

The sign appeared to say "No MSG - cash only".

What puzzled me was whether they were addressing payment or food preparation issues. Perhaps they had had issues with people attempting to pay for their food using pure monosodium glutamate. While tasty, it is not a widely accepted substitute in bartering.

But what intrigued me more was that perhaps they seasoned their egg rolls not with that white powder, but cold hard greenbacks. After all, dollars probably taste a lot like bok choy.

Sadly, I never had the courage to find out, as it was getting late. Besides, I felt odd knowing that I had drunk beer in a mall. That's the kind of thing only creepy people do.

the beer fairy

Apparently after I took part in the french fry taste test, I was signed up on the "consumer opinion phone list", because I was recently asked to participate in a beer opinion survey.

You don't have to ask me twice.

Well, actually, you do. The first time they called me, they asked me several questions to see if I fit the profile they were seeking. Yes, I was over 21. Yes, I drank beer regularly. But when they asked me what kind of beer I usually drank, I was stumped.

When I was employed, I often enjoyed a nice microbrew. But as a poorer man, I now find that I also enjoy such fine fare as Pabst Blue Ribbon ("it wouldn't have a blue ribbon on it if it weren't so fine"), and I enjoy it much more cheaply. I also enjoy imported beers and even the odd malt liquor.

So I answered that maybe I drank "regular, full-calorie" beers the most. I was told I didn't qualify.

I was crushed. Here I was given the opportunity to not only enjoy free beer, but to get paid for it, and I messed it up. Opportunity knocks but once, but the beer fairy is more forgiving.

Less than a week later, I got a call from the same people. Did I want to participate in a beer survey? Um, yes. They asked me the same questions, but when they asked what kind of beer I usually drank, I replied that maybe "microbrews" were my favorite. They kept asking me questions. I had cleared Level 1.

However, I almost didn't make it past Level 2. The lady asked me how many glasses of beer I drank in the average week. Again thinking of my current economic situation, I replied that I might guess two.

Again proving the loving nature of the beer fairy, the lady asked me to "think really hard" and again asked me how many beers I drank in an average week. So I thought harder. I thought about the weeks after our Halloween party when there was a lot of quality beer left over in the fridge. My extra cognition made me think that sometimes I could have five beers in a week. This seemed to please the lady.

It pleased her so much that she offered to have me come in over two different days and drink beer in exchange for $75. The beer fairy is generous.

I wish I could say that the actual tasting lived up to my expectations for it. After all, I was drinking free beer and getting paid.

But drinking is - or ought to be - a social experience. A reason to chat with your friends. And I am not usually friends with people who have nothing better to do than go to a mall at 4:30pm and drink beer. Where were the hipsters, the beautiful women, and the like? They were still at work.

As it was, I only consumed about forty ounces of beer (and ten saltines) over the two days. But that's not what's important. Earning $75 and further increasing my knowledge of the paid opinion survey - that's important.

Now if only they were doing a bacon taste test...

it's all about the benjamins

I am so sick of being told that I need to help spend America out of this recession.

Back in the day, wars and bad economic conditions brought about appeals for conservation, but the men and women of that era are mostly dead, as are, it would seem, their ideals.

So we are told that we must spend, spend, spend to save the country.

It makes me sad that people think America can be boiled down to capitalism. As if the first sign of economic troubles meant that America had failed.

I was led to believe that America was nobler than that. That it had something to do with freedom and democracy. Apparently, those are ideals we're willing to abandon as long as the cash keeps flowing in.

Maybe someone can put little American flags in our cereal boxes so we have something to wave when they announce that they've repealed the fourth amendment due to the "emergency situation".

Gads, I'm bitter today.

stop, drop, don't roll

President Bush ended his rallying cry for America last week by saying, "We have our marching orders: my fellow Americans, let's roll".

Mixed mataphors aside, let's not. Roll, that is. We'd be better off marching.

After Americans donated blood and money in huge amounts, they were left wondering what could be done next for America. In his speech, Bush suggested volunteering in the community. And that is a fine idea.

But something that would help just as much, as well as address the issue of our foreign relations, is a push to decrease our dependence on foreign oil.

And by that I do not refer to any short term solutions of drilling in Alaska, which would at best allow us to only slightly reduce the percentage of oil we buy from other countries.

No, I'd like to see our president (or, barring that, someone who doesn't have deep connections to the oil industry) suggest that now is a time for a new sacrifice, one in which we stop pretending that it's our God-given right to drive anywhere we want by ourselves at twelve miles to the gallon.

It would be far easier to justify such selfish behavior if we produced all the necessary oil ourselves. But we don't. And so we are forced to buddy up to nations of questionable repute, supporting dictatorships in the Middle East (that sometimes support terrorism), or whatever else it takes to ensure a steady supply of oil.

Even the terrorists in Al-Qaeda, if they can be believed, claim to be motivated in part by the occupation by American troops of sites in Islamic countries (perhaps we are there to protect our oil interests?), and by the less-than-democratic secular governments we support rather hypocritically.

OF course, consuming less foreign oil would not solve all our problems in the Middle East, nor would it wipe out terrorism. But it would untie our hands in dealing with those states - including those that support terrorism - and allow us to act in a manner more consistent with our supposed love of freedom, justice, and all that jazz in the Constitution.

For all the talk of September 11 being this generation's Pearl Harbor, and the many other allusions to World War II, no one has yet proposed that when you ride alone, you ride with Bin Laden. No, it's practically un-American to think about the global implications of your day-to-day actions.

So get in your car and pretend that the gas that drives it will always be available for low prices, because it comes from the magical fairy oil well, which produces oil for as long as we believe in it.

theme songs - a footnote

If you have enjoyed this treatise on the Green Acres theme song, the Library of Congress recommends the following links for further enjoyment:

• A pop-punk version (MP3 format) of the theme song. Of course. It's actually a challenge these days to find popular songs that haven't had pop-punk covers made of them.
• An absolutely stellar hip-hop version (.WAV format) of the same. Makes you feel like 1988 all over again.

I also want to thank my high school English teachers, without whom I never would have learned the word "stichomythia", much less the ability to make up stupid essays like this one.

theme songs - an epilogue

When contrasted with other theme songs, that of Green Acres stands out all the more.

Take for example the theme song to Mr. Ed (.AU format). In contrast to the warm, thoughtful writing of the show, the lyrics to the song are downright awful.

Like the theme to Gilligan's Island, this theme suffers from needless repetition. The phrase "of course, of course" is employed more than once, and it is the signature of a hack writer.

Even more disconcerting is the writer's apparent inability to find more than three rhymes for "horse" (unless you consider "hoarse", which I won't): "course", "source", and "endorse". Agonizingly, the latter two are only used once, forcing the former to carry the brunt of the rhyming responsibility.

But the single thing that condemns the Mr. Ed theme song to the dustbin of television music is its lyric self-contradiction. This is perhaps best pointed out when the song is paraphrased.

"Horses, being what they are, don't talk. Except Mr. Ed. Go ahead and ask him and he'll tell you he talks. People talk a lot, but not Mr. Ed. He only talks out of necessity. Mr. Ed talks until he is not able to any more. If you don't believe me, listen to him yourself."

The viewer is left wondering whether Mr. Ed talks a lot or not. He is confused, unsure of what to expect, and therefore more likely to switch to another channel and watch reruns of My Three Sons. Thus, the theme song has failed.

But more painful is the theme song that fails because it is totally irrelevant.

Such a song is the detestable Family Ties theme song (.WAV format). This song's lyrics tell nothing of a former hippie couple raising their three (and, sadly, sometimes four) children - one a young Republican, one a ditz, and the one played by Tina Yothers - in the 1980's.

In fact, the song's lyrics deal only with the self-absorbtion of the two unnamed singers ("what would we do, baby, without us?"), and their delusions of immortality ("I bet we'll be together for a million more [years]").

If any relevance is to be found in the song's lyrics, it is that it is emblematic of the self-absorbtion of the baby boomers in the 80's. But that does not justify having the song, any more than does the needless ending lyric of "sha-la-la-la".

Indeed, with competition like this, it is not hard to see why Green Acres remains the gold standard for television theme songs.

theme songs - a treatise

I have recently come to appreciate the genius that is the theme song to Green Acres (RealAudio format).

For you see, the purpose of any good TV show theme song is to fill in the viewer on what is about to happen, and how it got to be there. Otherwise, the casual viewer might be lost amid the clever plot changes and subtle characterizations that define American television.

Indeed, one such successful theme song is that of Gilligan's Island, (.WAV format) which takes the form of an epic poem. In it, we learn of a "fearless crew" comprised of a "mighty sailing man" and a "brave and sure" skipper. Such descriptions certainly help the audience understand the tension that ensues between Gilligan and the Skipper in the next twenty-two minutes.

But ultimately, this is not a perfect theme song, as it clearly struggles to fill the necessary meter through needless repitition: "a three hour tour, a three hour tour" and "the Minnow would be lost, the Minnow would be lost".

In contrast, the Green Acres theme song is a model of lyric efficiency. It actually is a mini-opera, replete with its own exposition, conflict, and denouement.

The opening verse is a treatise by the husband on why he finds this rustic locale to be so attractive. Listen: "Green Acres is the place to be. Farm living is the life for me. Land spreading out so far and wide, keep Manhattan, just give me that countryside."

He has rejected the urban lifestyle in marked contrast to his American contemporaries. He therefore feels the need to justify this irrational behavior.

But simple iconoclasm does not make for interesting watching. Fortunately, the theme song continues on. His wife responds in the next verse that she is not pleased with her husband's decision. Listen: "New York is where I'd rather stay. I get allergic smelling hay. I just adore a penthouse view. Darling, I love you, but give me Park Avenue."

She, like millions of people before her, has found the siren call of Gotham to be irresistable. She also has health concerns. Thus, she presents her husband with an ultimatum. Though she loves him, she rejects his simple lifestyle.

That would be enough for most theme songs, but the next verse is the real gem. In it, we see a rapid stichomythic dialogue between the husband and wife. This stacatto exchange serves to intensify the debate, causing the viewer to truly fear for the marriage.

"The chores!" he says. "The stores!" she counters. But he is not easily cowed. "Fresh air," he points out, is another plus. And yet, the wife carries on, "Times Square" is also nice.

The banter has reached such a fevered pitch that it seems impossible to resolve. The viewer is led to believe that Green Acres must be a show about the divorce that surely must ensue.

But no. For the song is not yet over. The husband, aware of the tension in his relationship, makes an appeal to the traditional patriarchal values of his society. "You are my wife," he says to her.

And though his description of the rustic life did not sway her, she is moved by this and retreats to submission. "Goodbye, city life," she pines. His arguing has finally won her over. The marriage is saved, and surely good-natured sitcom humor will follow.

It is this sudden, cathartic denouement that brings such overwhelming relief to the viewer that he cannot help but be moved. He is left free to enjoy the wacky antics of the people of Hooterville, including one beloved Arnold the Pig, cleansed of the foregoing tension.

Indeed, even in the typing of these lyrics, this author is more than a little bit touched by such a family-positive message.

In summary, the Green Acres theme song is the best television theme song ever. Too bad the show stunk.

appendix b

I'd also like to wish a hearty "welcome back" to my roommate Beeman, now minus one minor organ of dubious worth.

I'll try not to express how disappointed I was to find out that the emergency room was not as exciting as that show about doctors would have me believe. You know, the really good show about doctors. Yeah, that one.

do do do, blah blah blah

The two weeks before this one were some of the most manic weeks I've had in a while. I worked harder than I did when I had a job. And all I got was a chicken costume.

And, of course, the satisfaction of working on many things I find interesting. But there's something to the manic rush that is ultimately unfulfilling.

I found myself rushing all over town in an attempt to find the best costume materials, and the best Halloween decorations. And my mind kept rushing. There were so many beautiful things I suddenly wanted to take pictures of - the leaves turning colors, the many interesting buildings I suddenly noticed, the nooks and crannies of this city. I drove by so many restaurants that intrigued me and I thought of the many different places I've never eaten. There were so many new movies and books and albums and people to experience.

And it quickly became apparent that I had nowhere near enough time for all this discovery. I was barely keeping up with my costume, as it was. Yet still I felt the drive to live at the utmost edge of my creative energies.

And for just a moment, I stopped. And I realized that I didn't really want to do and experience all those things. Because chasing after all those things wouldn't make me any happier. It would just propel me further into the fray.

I mean, I already own several hundred CDs. Will I really be that much happier when I have several thousand? Or will the process of buying more make me realize that there's even more music I don't know about and own?

Similarly, I have more photo albums crammed with interesting photos than I know what to do with, and I'm having a hard enough time keeping up with the friends I have now without adding more interesting people to the mix.

It occurred to me that this adrenaline-fueled mania was exciting, but it was also a bit of a taskmaster. In contrast, stopping to think was a calming experience. Stopping felt nice.

Which isn't to say that I decided that I should do nothing. No, I just realized that this creative fervor was, as a wiser man than I once put it, "meaningless, a chasing after the wind".

To be sure, there is joy in creating and in discovering. But they are not ends to themselves. Fulfillment must be found elsewhere.