Friday, July 30, 2010

Taking a WikiLeak

Dear Solitary Reader:

Coursing along the silvery tubes of the interweb these days is the story of massive amounts of military intelligence, which I always thought was as real as “city planning” and “the Easter bunny,” gracing the pages of WikiLeak. *Gasp* says one side “the enemy has our battle plans from 12 years ago! This must be quashed!” “Huzzah!” says the other side. “Score one for the freedom of the press!” Or words to that effect.

And there’s me in the middle, not knowing who to listen to and not caring enough to find out; which is no big change.

I’ve always considered Freedom of the Press in this day and age to be something of a myth. While I’m sure most (okay, some) reporters care about bringing information to the public, the news corporation itself really doesn’t seem to care much for fact or presentation.

In an age where the pundits of CNN yell their news at you, trying to sell you their version of events over MSNBC’s version along with a Slap Chop and a Snuggie news doesn’t seem, to me, to be dependable. Honestly, one look at Nancy Grace and Dan Rather would roll over in his grave.*

To put it bluntly, the press is free to report what it wants but bound by the dictates of modern marketing and capitalism to report only what sells.

But there’s the other side of the coin. Should these documents have been leaked? Does the public have a right to know? Well in this case, when the public includes the side you’re at war with having the ability to find your battle strategy on the Internet, maybe not. But the positive, the green light if you will, from this is that the military just discovered a bit of a flaw in their security. It’s similar in principle, if not in fact, to a company hiring a hacker to test its Internet Security. Gubment – you gots some work to do.

Maybe the furor from the side of the politicians is that the documents could likely uncover to the public a string of lies and incompetence to the general public. That and the emperor has no clothes. News flash (Brought to you by the Fortress of Verisimilitude’s Deep Fried Ice Cream in a Can! As Cold as Ice, as Hot as Spice) government people – we don’t vote you into office because we think you’re more competent than us; we vote you into government because someone has to do the job no one else wants to do and you… are… it.

Besides, maybe hope is not lost. Maybe Osama Bin Laden is like me: if he doesn’t find the answer to his query on the first page of Google’s results he gets impatient, call’s the Internet “stupid” and just goes to his Facebook page and plays Bejewelled Blitz.
I think the US Government doesn’t have too much to worry about in all of this anyway.

I’d be willing to bet there are more people out there Googling Mel Gibson and Oksana Griegorieva (which incidentally is on the first page of Google results when you search for the answer to the math problem of what happens when one train leaves a station in LA at 60 mph on the same track as a train leaving from New York at 45 mph, where do the trains collide?**) then there are searching for US Military Strategy.

* Yes, I know Dan Rather isn’t dead, but I assume one look at the Medusa like visage of Nancy Grace would kill him. Then, after a period of mourning in which Television spent at least 6 weeks replaying Dan’s most important news stories and the shame and scandal in which he retired, they would finally bury him. About two days after that the horrible memory of Nancy Grace’s meat haunch face would force him to roll over (because you don’t want to throw up while lying on your back).
** Answer: On the Internetz

Saturday, July 24, 2010

My Garage is Haunted

Dear Solitary Reader:

This is my first real post since the move to the new house and there’s a good reason for it. You see, Solitary Reader, I’m fairly certain that my garage is haunted.

In a super world my garage would be haunted by the spirit of someone who knew something about cars. Then it wouldn’t have cost me so much for that transmission fluid change at Mr. Lube yesterday. I would make friends with said spirit by putting a TV in there and leaving it on all night and then inviting neighbourhood children in so that the spirit could reach through the TV and eat them. If there’s one thing I learned from watching Ghost Whisperer its that spirits like Poltergeist.

However, as its not a super world I am certain the spirit in the garage is not that of the Michelin man, not even the Fountain Tire guy, but instead this spirit is of a holiday bent. How do I know so, you might ask?

Let me recount to you then a tale of woe with a twist ending worthy of a film by M. Night Shamalan (that is to say, it starts with a good idea but ends up being poorly executed with a twist ending that doesn’t make up for the sense of disappointment in the experience).

It was a hot and sultry day in the burbs of Maple Ridge. I had just finished putting up a ceiling fan and knew the world was off because I had a) installed the fan correctly and b) had not been electrocuted , lighting myself up like a Christmas tree. I brought the dregs of my home improvement project downstairs with the intention of placing the empty box, along with the carcass of the old light fixture, in the garage. I opened the door and sensed right away the oddity.

It was cool in here, not the cool of a ground floor  garage on a hot summer day, nor even the cool of Arthur Fonzarelli, (okay, maybe it was that); my breath frosted in the air, and everything I learned watching Supernatural told me that there was a ghost in the garage – and me without my rock salt. The door swept shut behind me (not completely, we have to replace the door so that it will close all the way as they’re supposed to do, next home improvement project) and then I heard the voice.

“Frosty the snowman, was a happy jolly soul… Frosty the snowman…” In fear, I dropped the box containing the old light fixture. Being environmentally conscious I still turned off the light and I left the room.

Twist ending: I twisted my ankle on the slight step back into the house – I told you you would be disappointed.

Okay so the garage isn’t really haunted, there’s a musical Christmas card in there somewhere that sings “Frosty” whenever the wall shakes.

But here’s the true scary thing: I have no idea where that card is! Every time I go in the garage a tinny female voice will yelling “Frosty the Snowman” will welcome me… until I can find it and shut off that evil for good.

Now that’s  a twisted ending.