Phoning in the prosecution?

Why does the source of the scream matter in the Trayvon Martin-George Zimmerman 911 call?

If it’s Martin screaming, it’s obvious what happened. If it’s Zimmerman, he could be screaming because Martin temporarily got the upper hand in the fight (or to otherwise call attention to himself). Couldn’t it be both of them? People exchange shouts all the time in fights.

Each man’s mother insists they hear their son in the call. Audio experts say there’s no way to tell in this case. I say it doesn’t matter. Even if it’s all Zimmerman, I still want to know why an armed neighborhood watchman felt it necessary to stalk an unarmed teenager in violation of his authority. That would seem to matter more to me.

Racism: R.I.P., or buried alive?

Someone insisted to me the other day that racism is over. Finished. With an absolute straight face.

Why would anyone make this argument? Sure, we all want racism to be over. I, for one, would love to live in a world where no one faces institutional discrimination because of what they are. Unfortunately, some people want it to be over so they can get over so-called political correctness — so that their own racism isn’t racism anymore.

This is related to the stance that racism is the fault of those offended by it — which itself is pretty offensive. It’s a frustratingly common view among white people who don’t think they should have to confront their own prejudices. If anything, they think they’re the persecuted ones, because they aren’t allowed to spew racial slurs like those who’ve reclaimed them (subtleties apparently being lost on them).

Why do people want to be openly racist? Is that something to aspire to? I don’t understand. And I’m glad I don’t.

Facebarf

A couple of days ago, I tried something that left me literally nauseated. I tried to rank my Facebook friends.

The idea occurred to me after someone who I’d completely forgotten about posted something for the first time in years. I realized that though I have nearly 800 friends on Facebook, I interact with maybe 70 or 80 on a regular basis, if that. My guess is that this proportion is true for most people on the site, regardless of friend count. It’s inevitable when your friend list spans years and possibly all your life.

So I devised four tiers of friendship, in descending order of daily relevance, each with subcategories. I got about 250 deep into my friends list before a distinct feeling crept up — the one I get from eating too much of a favorite food. The feeling of purpose giving way to queasiness.

After enough names filled my list, I began to feel like I shouldn’t be ranking people. These were human beings with feelings, families and memories. People I like very much, and here I was reducing them to categories. Before abandoning the idea altogether, I chopped off the top tiers and focused on finding the most obscure friend I had. But even that seemed cheap, so I blanked out the list altogether.

I should have learned from MySpace’s top eight spaces.

An offer I can refuse

From time to time, as I've chronicled before, I get unsolicited e-mails from "freelance writers" regarding Not Right About Anything and their desire to offer content to Not Right About Anything for the enrichment of readers of Not Right About Anything.

Today's offer was a unique business deal from someone with a famous name who is not her:

I am contacting you to see if you would like some fresh content for Not Right About Anything. If so, I would love to contribute to your site. ...

Because lack of fresh content is clearly a problem on this blog. 

This content that I would like to produce for Not Right About Anything would come at no cost, if I am able to mention one of my business clients. Any link to them would be subtle and in line with the content of the article. All my work is 100% original and would only be submitted to your site for approval and nowhere else.

So to recap, she will write the blog equivalent of an infomercial for her personal profit; I don't get anything but the privilege of not paying for it, aside from a ghostwritten blog that makes me look like a sellout; and this original masterpiece is doomed to the level of obscurity the readers of Not Right About Anything have come to expect from Not Right About Anything. Seems like a sweet deal all around!

Not Right About Anything. Where wheels meet deals.

Second thoughts on Snowden

I'd have a lot more respect for Edward Snowden if he did everything differently than he's doing it.

I get what he's trying to say: "LOOK AT ME, LOOKING OUT FOR YOU! I DO THIS IN THE BEST INTEREST OF AMERICA. OOPS, GOTTA GO." And, secondarily, that the U.S. government is keeping extensive records of all citizens' electronic communications. Is that latter point truly surprising to anyone? I can't say I'm proud of the idea, but it's not shocking news. It can be done and has considerable practical applications, so of course they're going to do it. We'd also be outraged if the government didn't do it, because we also want to be hard on crime. It's a no-win situation and collectively, we apparently like it that way.

Snowden strikes me as a professional contrarian. People like him make terrible whistleblowers, because it's too easy to question their true motivations. He's not doing himself any favors by threatening to spill more secrets unless some country grants him asylum; he should share the information out of public concern, not withhold it as leverage to improve his lot.

Not that I'd consider him a true whistleblower. Snowden isn't sharing a bombshell intended to startle the public without regard for personal consequences — he's telling us specifically classified information to reinforce what we already know, and is now trying to evade the fallout of that illegal action. There's nothing particularly courageous or enlightening about that.

People who hold up Snowden as a hero should seriously reconsider doing so. Whatever legitimate questions exist about the government's actions (and there are many), siding with the opposite extreme in an enemy-of-my-enemy approach is not the wisest move. 

There is room in this world for gutsy people exposing true wrongs. Those people, though they may face brutal consequences, deserve support and acclaim. But let's not be so desperate for heroes that we make one of the wrong guy.

Dear Blogger,

Your new insistence that I must fill out the title field before I can preview or even compose a blog in peace is highly annoying and pointless.

I realize there's starvation and war in the world and that I'm not paying for this service and its minor annoyances. But still, arrrgh.

Your longtime buddy,

Ian

Middle names of presidential administrations

Presidents and vice presidents always seem to have regal and/or unusual middle names. To see if that hunch was correct, I checked all of them through American history. Here they are in reverse chronological order:

Hussein - Robinette

Walker - Bruce

Jefferson - Arnold

Herbert Walker - Danforth

Wilson - Herbert Walker

Earl - Frederick

Rudolph (born Lynch) - Aldrich

Milhous - Theodore / Rudolph

Baines - Horatio

Fitzgerald - Baines

David - Milhous

S - William

Delano - Nance / Agard / S

Clark - (None)

Calvin - Gates

Gamaliel - Calvin

Woodrow - Riley

Howard - Schoolcraft

(None) - Warren

(None) - Augustus / (None)

Grover - Andrews

(None) - Parsons

Grover - Ewing

Alan - (No vice president)

Abram - Alan

Birchard - Almon

Ulysses / S - (None) / (None, changed from Jones)

(None) - (No vice president)

(None) - (None) / (None)

(None) - Cabell

(None) - Rufus DeVane

(None) - (No vice president)

(None) - (None)

Knox - Mifflin

(None) - (No vice president)

Henry - (None)

(None) - Mentor

(None) - Caldwell / (None)

Quincy - Caldwell

(None) - D (possibly Decius)

(None) - (None) / Thomas

(None) - (None) / (None)

(None) - (None)

(None) - (None)

Honorable mention:

David Rice Atchison (Acting president for one day in 1849) 

John (None) Hanson (President of Continental Congress, 1781)

So parents, if you want your child to grow up and be president, middle-name them something odd. Or don't give them one at all if you live in the 18th century. Or, give them any woman's name.