Unintentionally Funny Video #1

In this utterly absurd ad for a craptacular Rover 800 Fastback, the Cadillac Cimarron of the UK, cool German engineers not only forsake better made compatriot vehicles but then go on to admire British architecture without giggling.

Who Stands with the Supreme Leader? George Galloway, of course.

Click here to check it out and resist the gag reflex.

And guess what? Galloway approves of Obama's calm and reasoned acquiescence. Shocka!

(source: Stroppyblog)

What Fascism Looks Like. And the Importance of Numbers.

A remarkable sequence of events.

In the first video (from Persian BBC), black-clad secret police on motorcycles disperse a crowd of unarmed protesters.

In the second video, (below) the crowd seems to recognize its overwhelming strength and slowly turns the tables on the police.

Battle w/ Police - Tehran, Iran - June 20th 2009
Uploaded by mightier-than. - Up-to-the minute news videos.

This is may be just one isolated event or a pivot point of some sort. Who knows? But it certainly illustrates the drama unfolding right now in Tehran.

Another view:

(Source: Andrew Sullivan of course)

Five Minutes on the Streets of Tehran

(Source: Little Green Footballs)

On Board Green Dragon

Extreme sailing onboard Green Dragon Part 1 - Leg 7 from Green Dragon on Vimeo.

Volvo Ocean Race. Coming soon to a port nowhere near you. Amazing. These guys are in heavy weather in open ocean and going flat out fast. It's even more dangerous than it looks.

What Do Ham Radio and Twitter Have in Common?

I was among the last generation of kids to be excited about ham radio just before CB killed it off. Back then I looked forward to getting my QST magazine and the most desirable and unattainable thing in my world was a Collins SSB transceiver.

Looking at it now still gives me a shivver.


As I recall, no one I actually knew shared the slightest interest in ham radio. I never met anyone who had a radio or a license or any experience whatsoever. As far as I can tell, my interest was sparked by an article in Boy’s Life which I read avidly in bound volumes at the Donnell Library in midtown Manhattan – about as far from a campfire and a low wattage radio shack as was possible. Interestingly, I managed to find and join an affinity group with no physical presence. Ham radio operators didn’t meet each other. The whole point seemed to be to keep everyone at a safe distance.

Occasionally the radio subculture would surface briefly in the mainstream and validate my interest in some small but memorable way. Like when a wheelchair bound ham operator alerted the police in The Anderson Tapes, or when Jean Shepherd (K2ORS) talked about it in late evening monologues on WOR. Ham radio was solitary and social at the same time.

I built a Heathkit receiver in my room. Heathkit was the cheapest point of entry to the amateur radio world. There were thrills to be had on a good night when the skip was right and you could tune in a wavy voice from Ceylon. Collecting QSL cards was an enthusiasm no one I actually knew in the real world could possibly understand much less share.

But eventually I began to realize that amateur radio was essentially a time consuming and expensive global feedback loop. You would buy equipment so you could talk to others like you about equipment upgrades that would allow you to talk with other people about additional equipment upgrades and so on.

Of course, when CB radio became popular at the depth of the 70s, things changed dreadfully. There were songs about it on the AM. Movies too. This was something my parents and friends could sort of understand. But disappointingly, they looked at my singular, defining passion next to a cheap, stupid, and massively mainstream fad and couldn’t tell the difference. It was embarrassing. Not just for me but for thousands of amateur operators.

For me, the embarrassment of being mistaken for a dilettante CBer sputtering “breaker, breaker 1-9” and “10-4 good buddy” never entirely healed.

And at the height of its popularity CB radio expanded from 19 channels to 40 and people decided to buy 8-tracks or electric carving knives rather than upgrade their equipment and the fad evaporated. Ham radio was morphing into television which also required a considerable equipment upgrade and that too lost adherents . . . mostly to home computers I suspect.

I can see some of this same trajectory in the blogosphere. But the greatest similarity between bloggery and ham radio is community and the importance of distance. Meeting bloggers in the wet world is almost always as disappointing as meeting an actual amateur radio geek in the flesh. Yet the desire to communicate with strangers who share your passion is overwhelming. Humans will work with any technology available to make those connections - papyrus, printing presses, pamphlets, newsletters, radio, twitter – it’s all the same expression.

Apparently, there’s nothing more comforting to a human than being alone and knowing you’re not alone at all.

Hope in Iran? Hope so.

There Goes a Good Man

Just after Bill Clinton became President Clinton, I had the enormous good fortune to meet and work with Jack Kemp.  At that time, Kemp was by far the most popular Republican presidential candidate for the next election in 1996.  He was at the very top of his game.

Back then, he was in the private sector for the first time in many 

years and my job was to help him produce a monthly newsletter.  It was actually a very early experiment in social media.  He’d discuss a handful of topics and invite his readers to comment.  He’d then respond to the comments, some of which would lead to other topics in a serendipitous conversation thread. 

Critics and rivals said that Kemp was too unfocused to be chief executive but the reality was he might have been too curious to be president.  The newsletter was a bombardment of facts and anecdotes, historical quotes, and personal observations but the theme of this data dump couldn’t be more sharply focused.  He wanted to tell people why he thought that America in 1993 was the greatest entrepreneurial opportunity of all time.

Each month he’d bring me into his office and talk in a whirlwind about his most recent trip to China; “they’ve got cities so new they don’t even have names yet;” or a conversation about fiber to the home he had had with George Gilder, and he tell about a young guy who was just elected mayor of Jersey City on a radical opportunity platform.  He’d mention an obscure quote and then pull down an old book from an upper shelf and instantly find the right page and paragraph to confirm the wording. 

He wasn’t cool and detached like Obama.  He was passionate.  He burned with the curiosity of a completely self-taught man. He was learning new things every day and that just excited him to learn more.  I came away from these meetings with pages of notes, articles, people to contact, and new ideas to imagine. 

He easily could have been a rich man if he had paid attention to business opportunities instead of historical ones.  His father was an entrepreneur who built a delivery service consisting of himself and a motorcycle into a Southern Californian trucking business by investing his profits in more equipment and more people to operate it and so on.  It’s one thing to learn about business in school.  But it must be another thing entirely to watch your dad build one day after day after day and see the incremental improvements increase and build on each other. 

I don’t know whether that experience served as the inexhaustible fuel for his enthusiasm for entrepreneurship but it certainly gave him a sturdy frame of reference and made him rich in knowledge, and friends, and fans.

It was a shock to hear that he had died.  He always seemed like a young guy to me, energetic, enthusiastic, and always open to new ideas.  He was so alive it's hard to imagine him not alive.

He was - and still is - a good and decent man.

I Like Ike, Not Gehry

Suppose you were on a commission to build a memorial to President Dwight D. Eisenhower and you had to select an architect to design it.  What sort of qualities would you look for? 

You might start with Eisenhower himself.  Ike was a pretty normal guy considering he commanded the biggest amphibious invasion in history, was president of an Ivy League university, and served two terms as an enormously popular POTUS. 

Unpretentious. Middle American. Common man.

Actually, it’s easier to say what he’s not.

Not trendy. Not intellectual. Not ostentatious.

So, to honor a down-to-earth man’s man whose name is synonymous with 1950s suburban conformity you would naturally choose Frank Gehry as your architect, right?

Well, I can see the conformity part.  I mean, once you’ve seen Bilbao you’ve seen the Disney and every other titanium coprolite Gehry has ever or will ever conceive of.

You can be sure the Gehry Memorial will say more about Gehry than about Eisenhower.  It can be counted on to challenge conventional notions, break with tradition, and annoy the unsophisticated in exactly the way Ike didn’t.

“He wasn’t blustery and didn’t make big pronouncements. I feel a sense of kinship with how he did what he did,” says Gehry with characteristic humility.  What Ike did was defeat fascism.  What has Gehry ever done to warrant any sort of kinship with Eisenhower?  

Gehry’s sort of disposable, transient, situational morality is the polar opposite of what Eisenhower represents.  But instead of being memorialized with a recognizably heroic structure that will stand the test of time, Ike is getting a website.

According to Architectural Record, “visitors will probably learn more about the subject of the memorial from specially created Web video and audio files—a clip of an old Eisenhower speech, perhaps—beamed to a handheld device like, say, an iPhone. Under the competition’s guidelines, Gehry must design this electronic element, too.”

That’s just great.  How long before that feature is obsolete?  A year?  Six weeks?

And what will the design look like?  Don’t know.  The memorial commission isn’t releasing the design to the public.  They won’t release the runner-up designs from Krueck & Sexton, Rogers Marvel Architects, or PWP Landscape Architecture, either.  

That’s not the sort of behavior of a patron confident of the popularity of its decision.  

Norman Foster May or May Not Vandalize The New York Public Library

Among the few clearly positive consequences of The Great Rebalancing going on now in financial markets is the extinguishment of Norman Foster’s plans to deface The New York Public Library first announced just as the economic avalanche was beginning in October. The timing suggests a divine consciousness at work.

It’s the greatest project ever!” The New York Times reported the starchitect saying after the “trustees” of the library awarded him the $250 million project to update the pretty much already perfect building.

“We had to have someone as good as Carrere & Hastings,” said Paul LeClerc, the president of the library without a trace of bitter irony. “We had to create a second masterpiece.” 

(picture credit: TS Carlisle)

This sort of nonsense is so common in architecture that it barely even registers on the bullshit detector anymore. 

 There is no need to “update” what is already considered a masterpiece. I suspect that if I proposed to pay Kayne West a couple of million bucks to write an extra verse that would permanently be inserted into middle of John Lennon’s “Imagine” these same trustees would be utterly outraged.

Fortunately the disfigurement will have to wait. 

A big chunk of the $250m was supposed to come from the sale of the Donnell branch of the library, an unassuming and friendly modernist that sits empty across the street from the Museum of Modern Art now that its buyer has bailed. The Donnell seems to have died for our sins.

Back in October, Sir Foster blathered on about how he was drawing inspiration from the local library in a suburb of Manchester that he visited as an insufferable teenager.

Here is the library. 

Seems rather pleasant and scaled for ordinary human beings.

Of course, what the library looked like was not the source of Foster’s inspiration. “If it hadn’t been for that library,

 I probably wouldn’t have gone to university,” says the most self important architect on the planet. “I discovered a whole world of literature and also a world of architecture, like the original books of Corbusier.”

I’m as adamantly opposed to book burning as George Orwell but I would make an exception for the “works” of Corbu. The world would be a better place if his contributions to the catalog of human knowledge were simply deleted.

What are the chances that Foster’s new masterpiece resembles anything like the modest library he claims as his inspiration? Slim to absolutely nil. About the same probability that his update will inspire anyone as much as the brand manager of Windex.

The Times reports that the trustees considered more traditional architects but in the end chose to commission "a distinctive piece of contemporary architecture.” According to the library’s chairwoman, Catie Marron, “one has to embrace one’s time.”

But why? Why can’t we embrace our times by embracing the beautiful works of art that preceded us instead of disfiguring them? Because our times are selfish and myopic, that’s why.

The presumption is that the Carrere & Hastings building belongs to another age and we need a structure that reflects contemporary society. Actually, the Library exists now, in our age. It functions spectacularly well, now, in our times.

Any Fosteresque alteration would indeed embrace our times in all its banality, mediocrity, transience, conceit and most of all its presumption that any architect alive today could match what Carrere & Hastings created a century ago.

Nicolai Ouroussoff, the Times’ current arbiter of taste approves of this latest attack on the Beaux Arts legacy, particularly the potential for “delicious tension that could be created between old and new.”

Funny how no such tension was desirable when Paul Rudolph’s high rise bunker at Yale was renovated and added to recently. “The Gwathmey design is intentionally restrained and recessive,” says Ada Louise Huxtable the fictional architecture critic at The Wall Street Journal.   But that’s another story.

Says Ouroussoff, who occupies the Muschamp Chair for Advanced Elitist Studies at NYT:

"Some believe that the only way to show respect for an old building is to dress
it up in a cute period style.”

Don’t worry. Our ubermensch narrator is not one of those people.

Even though at 98 years the Library is not an old building by historical standards. Also, the building is a masterpiece even though it is dressed up with anthemion, triglyphs, and colossal Corinthian columns – the style of a period that predates the Library by 2000 years. In fact, it is the timelessness of this style that makes faithful consistency with it the only way to show it respect.

“This approach trivializes history by blurring the distinction between old and
new.”

Actually, just the opposite. Attaching something “new,” meaning developed in the last six months, onto something “old,” which in this case means developed over the four millennia of western civilization, is an act of vandalism not trivialization.

“The result is watered-down history – or worse, kitch.”

And frankly, what could possibly be worse than that?

Yet, a Norman Foster prosthesis on The New York Public Library would equate a passing fashion with the grandeur of history and be nothing more than adding chrome tailfins on a timeless structure.

“In choosing Mr. Foster the library is signaling confidence in the ethos of our
own era while nodding to a distinct past.”

Adding Hannah Montana stickers to the works of Leonardo would also signal confidence in the ethos of our era. 

I, for one, have no confidence at all in the ethos of our era. Leaving to the future a decrepit Norman Foster doodad would only prove to our grandchildren not only how small-minded and incompetent we were but also how we brimmed with self-esteem.  I can think of more useful things to bequeath.

Ironically, the shameful ethos of our era ultimately will make Foster’s plans unrenderable. There’s no money left, and now that the trustees of the library have lost the $59 million they were counting on to jumpstart the project, the hole just got a lot bigger.  

Big enough, with any hope, to swallow the entire scheme. And maybe in the aftermath some time to allow and new ethos for a new era to emerge.

Mob Mentality

Does anyone doubt that after 8 years of stoking blind hatred of George W. Bush that that indiscriminate hatred is now seeking new outlets?  

The mob will soon tire of hating Rush, and the Mormons, and AIG executives and will eventually turn against anyone it deems un-American or privileged or just different.  

This, of course, is the flip side of "progressive" politics.  Because progress is a subjective concept, its ideology is situational and inherently unstable.  Depending on the situation, anything can be either heretical or the God's honest truth.   

This sort of thing never ends well.  Just ask Robespierre.  

Rush vs the MSM

The Pew Research Center released a survey that has been reported as showing Rush Limbaugh’s audience limited to a narrow overwhelmingly male wingnut cohort. As is often the case, the survey offers up some interesting findings that don’t quite conform to the conventional wisdom it was meant to support.

In this case it appears to show that Dittoheads are among the most informed of news consumers . . . more aware of current events than Jim Lehrer NewsHour watchers, Daily Show enthusiasts, CSPAN drones, BBC snobs and just about anyone else except for readers of The Atlantic.

Granted, the measure of “informed” is a bit dodgy. If you can name the Secretary of State, the majority party in Congress, and Her Majesty’s Prime Minister, you’re officially “highly informed.”

Rush Limbaugh listeners were able to name all three correctly 36% of the time, which sadly, is far better than most new consumers including highly self-esteemed CNBC viewers (17%).

What about CBS News, the Tiffany Network, home of the legendary Edward R. Murrow, (peace be upon him)? Their audience scores on par with AccessHollywood viewers (10%) and below the erudite cognoscenti at the Weather Channel (11%), and far below the abysmal national average of 18%.

What does this tell us?

Well, the fact that the headline from Pew reads, “Limbaugh Holds onto his Niche: Conservative Males,” and not, “In a Nation of Idiots, Conservatives Are King,” leads me to believe that Pew is so unnerved by this admittedly flawed survey finding that they would rather whistle past what they think is a graveyard full of the barely restrainable undead rather than report something counterintuitive and interesting.

Wouldn’t want to take Limbaugh seriously, would we?

(Rush Limbaugh and some uninformed, parochial, white male listeners)

Everyone Hates Carter

I never knew just how much the Clintons can't stand Jimmy Carter until I saw the full clip from the inauguration coverage (in the original Italian).  

Watch how Bubba and GHWB hug and kiss each other like true friends . . . then Carter shows up like a foul smelling crazy uncle to ruin the party around minute 1:25.  

The Bushes are civil but look at Bill and Hill.  They hate him!

Look at Hillary's expression.  You know she just can't wait for that first call to the State Dept. from the doddering old friend of Arafat, Kim il Jong, Brehznev and any other enemy of the state he can score an appointment with.  

Fortunately, Jimmah hates them right back and shuffles along on his way somewhere else.    

Yup, there goes America's favorite ex-president.

Gingerbread McMansion

I was going to tear down my modest old split level gingerbread house and build this monstrosity in its place but I couldn’t get the financing.

Williams-Sonoma is striking just the wrong chord this holiday season by offering an eatable metaphor for the financial crisis. I’m going to let mine sit vacant for a few months then I’ll burn it down.

The gingerbread McMansion retails for $250 which I would say is a bit steep for baked good. I think we can be pretty confident that this item will be a recognizable artifact of the antebellum period just as glittery winged rollerskates might symbolize the excesses of the disco era.

I hereby add the Williams-Sonoma Gingerbread McMansion to my “Oracles of the Apocalypse” collection.

The Art of Speech



(via hugh atkin)

If I Ran the Railroad

I’ve been riding a commuter train into New York City for more than a decade and have had plenty of time to consider the draconian improvements I would make if I had the dictatorial power necessary to change anything on MetroNorth.

First of all, the rolling stock is not just old, it’s huge. The carriages ride about six feet off the ground atop enormous steel wheels and the whole thing is pulled or pushed by a gigantic diesel engine designed for cross-country trips in the 1960s. My commuter train could easily withstand years of service on the trans-Siberian Railway. Stopping and starting that train every few minutes is a groaning, straining, gargantuan waste of energy.

Rather than big, slow, and infrequent trains, the model should be lighter, faster, and more frequent just as they are in parts of Europe.

Second of all, there should be service. My train if filled each morning with some of the highest paid symbol manipulators in the world. For an hour plus we’re a totally captive audience. Surely you could sell us something valuable. How difficult would it be to have a cart with newspapers, high-priced coffee, and freshly baked breakfasty items roll down the aisle in exchange for some disposable income? Inconceivably difficult apparently.

The notion of a captive demographic is totally lost on whomever or whatever runs the railway. The only advertising in the cars is an occasional cardboard poster for some TV show on the WB. Where the hell is Chris Whittle when we need him?

Imagine flat screen TVs in each seat back with free programming interspersed with highly targeted ads. Get Bloomberg to invest in it and a passive seat would become a profit center.

And this leads to the third improvement, intelligence. Instead of buying a paper ticket from a machine or a conductor carrying fists of cash and some antique hole puncher, how about a smart card that you swipe at your seat. Your monthly fare recalculates depending on how many trips you take. Perhaps the fare changes depending in the seat you take; less for the middle, and nothing if you stand.

You could even profile ridership patterns electronically rather than by having teams of slack jawed unionized drones counting passengers by hand as they crowd off the platform.

The smart card could be used for all services aboard the train including coffee in the morning, a stiff drink in the evening, a PPV movie on the way home, parking at the station. And all these transactions could be captured, analyzed, and used to improve service. Make money. Improve service. Totally foreign concepts at the moment.

The fourth, pride and expertise, costs nothing. On two occasions on a recent Amtrak trip to Philadelphia, passengers asked elementary questions which stumped the conductors. The first question was about arrival time. The conductor did not know when the train was scheduled to arrive. I knew and I don’t even work on the train for a living. The other question was about destination. The conductor drove the passenger to aneurysmic panic by claiming that the train did not stop in Stamford. Only after the intervention of other passengers did the conductor correct himself. Jeez, this is your job, man. Get the basics right at least. A little pride in a job well done might make your day more satisfying.

I suspect a Swiss train conductor earning a comparable salary would know a great deal more about railways than his American counterparts – but that’s an entirely another story.

My solution short of armed direct action? Maintain public control of the track and infrastructure and allow any private company to run rolling stock on them for a profit. Frankly, if you can run a profitable railway in the Northeastern Corridor, you just aren’t trying.

Until then, here is some lovely transit pornography from Newlands & Company:

The Door to Hell

While drilling for natural gas in Uzbekistan, geologists discovered an enormous cavern. The cavern was filled with poisonous gas and someone had the great idea to throw a match in there to burn off some of the fumes.

That was in 1973. It’s still burning.


(Via English Russia, your one source for all things miasmal)

Things to Like About Europe

Aside from an unreasonable fear of wind, Europeans are generally indifferent to the litigious possibilities of minor accidents and are not afraid of singing while walking on dangerous rain-slick mansard roofs high above the city.

See here as Francoise Hardy violates what would be dozens of American construction, public safety, and child labor codes as she nonchalantly lip syncs her 1963 pop hit, "Une Fille Comme Tant d'Autres" which she clearly is not.



I love the dreary weather. The post-war neon. The utter disregard for personal injury. I can almost smell the diesel fumes and potatoes boiling.

That's the Europe I love.

Hunting Japanese For Research Purposes Only

A couple of Antediluvian television comedians recently tried to provoke a diplomatic incident with the Japanese ambassador to Australia regarding some obscure fishing dispute.

Fortunately, these days the Japanese are more interested in slaughtering whales than disrespectful foreign barbarians such as the mocking Aussies shown here.

A bit over the line, no?



(via JapanProbe)

David Cameron Shows Why He Is the Master of small tv

Here is yet another update from WebCameron. Yes it's a formula but it's remarkably hard to do convincingly unless you recognize who your audience is and what they want to hear.



Cameron is masterful at this. He gives you the context, a sense of place, a behind the scenes look, and he reiterates his main points all in about four minutes. There's a lot of information here. Not just words. In fact, the words are the least of it.

And just to show you how execution makes all the difference, Ken Livingstone takes a starkly mediocre pass at the same simple communication approach. Same camera, same desktop editing package. One sucks. One doesn't.




Anything similar hapening back in God's Country? No, but for a variety of reasons. Obama can't do this. He's overexposed as it is. Hillary wouldn't dare. Too many variables. McCain though . . . McCain could pull it off. Imagine McCain vblogging from the Middle East this week. Bypassing the MSM and talking directly into the camera.

Trouble is, he probably won't do it. This as close as he's gotten so far, and he's not even the star of it: