Chamillionaire- Evening News

Shamelessly taken from TRU.

I'm having donuts for dinner

I figured you might want to know.

Your World Today

In case you need proof that people are fucking gullible:


In case you needed proof that people have the capacity for evil.

In case you need hope for humanity.

The Greatest Poet of Our Time

50 Cent, known to his mother as Curtis Jackson, is stanky rich, and this bold position affords him a unique artistic outlook. After years of meaningless commercialization and pointless in-fighting, Fiddy offers an intriguing combination of vivid imagery and amazing wordplay comparable to the likes of Browning, Byron, Marlowe, or even Shakespeare (tangent: GOAT, Pac or Billy Shakes? Discuss.). Observe, from Mr. Cent's newest single, aptly named "I Get Money":

I take quarter water sold it in bottles for 2 bucks,
Coca-Cola came and bought it;
For billions, what the f**k?
Have a baby by me; baby
Be a millionaire
I write the check before the baby comes,
Who the f**k cares

Clearly not you, Mr. Jackson! The questionable practice of paying child support prenatally is just one demonstration of how 50 flexes his economic prowess. Curtis employs an enticing metaphor in the above snippet; after all, is his brand of rap music not equivocal to the cheap water, which he then hypes up, and then sells to the mainstream? See? Clever.

I'm stanky rich
Ima die tryna spend this shit
South side's up in in this bitch
Yeah I smell like the vault
I used to sell dope
I did play the block
Now I play on boats
In the south of France
Baby, St. Tropez

Being stanky rich is quite obviously a difficult position for anyone, as they are likely to retain the odor of a bank (especially if they, like Scrooge McDuck and Fiddy, have a vault in the back of their house for swimming in gold coins). Curtis offers a send up of his tragic past before delving into the travails that he, as a man who's paid, now must face, offering us lower beings a brief glimpse into the stanky rich life. And for that, literary scholars and listeners alike can take heed.

Get a tan? I'm already black
Rich? I'm already that

Important premise: 50 Cent does not need to be blacker or richer. He appreciates your concerns, however.

Gangsta, get a gat
Hit a head in a hat
Call that a riddle rap
Shit, f**k the chitter chat

A challenge to his critics and rivals alike, Mr. Jackson is never one to shy away from complex wordplay and daring metaphor. Indeed, he touts the expert marksmanship of an unidentified individual, and their startling ability to shoot someone regardless of their headgear. For the sake of art, we'll ignore the fact that a person wearing a hat still has several other equally valid vital organs that aren't obscured, as well as the obvious implication that wearing a hat-- unless 50's targets all wear 19th century headgear-- would only further define such a target.

To end on a good note, Fiddy spins a barrage of complex metaphors:

I'm the baker, I bake the bread
The barber, I cut ya head
The marksman, I spray the lead
"I blood clot, chop ya leg"
Do not f**k with the kid
I get biz wit the cigg
I come where you live
Ya dig?

I dig.

Thou[disjointed]ghts

I should be writing a paper.

It's due tomorrow, after all. I haven't even started.

My printer isn't working quite right, I downloaded three different drivers. I finally figured it out; I didn't have the USB plugged into the printer itself. I feel like a jackass.

Which isn't all that unusual.

Smashing Pumpkins. Don't ask.

I should call the parents and inform them that I may need to use their printer. But my phone's in the car. And, I mean, I could go to the car and get it. But if I do, one thing will lead to another, and I'll be chowing down on a Big Mac feeling like I'm going to die.

Probably choking down tears.

Though I could always use their bathroom. Clog someone else's toilet for a change. Too much detail? Meh.

I mean, what can I say? I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one. No disrespect intended.

Instead, I cope with the world-shattering loneliness and self-defeating isolation that plagues so many members of the Internet culture, wherein personal contact is devalued in favor of electronic dialog.

Also, the cap on my toothpaste is off, so what's left is probably crusty.

I'm so cheap that I try to figure out how to get that last bit of paste out, even though it's shaped wrong at the end and won't squeeze right.

Perfect time to say: That's what she said. I am the master of recycled zingers.

I swear, my mind is like a river. The River Styx, maybe. Damn, now I have "Come Sail Away" stuck in my head.

Why am I writing this? Moreover, why are you reading this?

Oh, paper, right. The more I write here, the less I have to think about it. Literature isn't so bad, and neither is this assignment. I'm just lazy.

Which brings me back to the phone. What if someone calls? Nobody calls. Why are you answering your own questions? It's in italics, so that denotes a separate voice. Consider me your first-person narrator, just not of my thoughts. Of a character who just happens to be me.

I don't think this is supposed to be funny. Which is good, since it probably isn't... And my leg is numb.

Have you ever felt guilty about not wearing pants in your own room? Me neither.

"Wishful Thinking"

The following is a short story written in my "Red Valor" universe. Enjoy.

---

“It’s mine! Mine, mine, mine!” Isaac Renvalli shouted. The short but lithe young man shook his head furiously, his unkempt blond hair flying wildly.

“No it’s not. I found it,” replied his companion, a darker, taller man with a lean face and a wiry frame. The scar that ran across his left eye rippled as he growled viscerally at his counterpart. “As my apprentice, you’re not technically entitled to anything.”

“Oh, what a load of troll dung!” Isaac spat furiously. “I’m no more your apprentice than you are the King of Ketta, Atrus!”

The duo were drifters, a pair of forlorn travelers who seemed to always find some niche to fill. Boundaries and governments couldn’t contain them. Of course, some would say—and certainly had said in the past—they were “thieves,” “scoundrels,” “ne’er-do-wells,” and a host of other exasperating titles, but as Atrus was fond of saying, “You can only be a thief if you accept the idea of ownership."

Atrus rolled his eyes. “Ketta doesn’t have a king, Isaac.” His voice was calm and cool, carrying the weight of authority. “They have an emperor. This is why I’m your mentor.” He lifted the object in question, a rather unremarkable flask made of cheap tin, high in the air, grinning broadly as Isaac jumped at it unsuccessfully.

Isaac’s ears were turning red. “I found it, therefore I should be the one to open it! I told you, it’s mine!”

Atrus looked around the crusty old tomb, replete with sand, dust, and poorly-maintained stonemasonry, attempting to find a distraction. “Fine. I’ll let you have it if you can find some drinkable water in this place.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying,” he growled. “I’ve been doing this for long enough to know when you’re trying to distract a mark.”

Atrus put his hand up to his chest, clenching the tattered shirt he was wearing. “Your words are venom to my heart, my friend! I would never regard you as such.” A look of agony crossed his visage.

Isaac gave him a bored glare. “Another lie.” Stomping his foot in frustration against the stone crypt floor, he turned away. “Have it your way then.” Giving a sharp look over his shoulder, his voice lowered dangerously. “But I get the second turn.”

Atrus offered a deep bow. “I am indebted to your kindness, dear fellow.” He lowered the flask cautiously, one eye on Isaac and the other looking over a strange inscription across its metal. “Curious.”

Isaac jumped at the taller man, knocking him to the ground and taking the flask. Rolling to the side, he kicked sand into Atrus’s eyes, eying the flask greedily. Despite the assault, when Atrus stood, his hands rubbing at his eyes, his voice remained calm. “That was low.”

Isaac shrugged. “What can I say, I learned from the best...” He squinted at the flask. “What’s this say? I think it’s in Dontorran...”

Atrus shut and opened his eyes repeatedly. “Even if I had my vision at the moment, I can’t read Common, much less Dontorran. So be careful with it.”

Isaac mimed Atrus’s words mockingly before responding. “It’s just a piece of cheap metal.”

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t have been so adamant to have it,” Atrus grumbled.

Isaac arched an eyebrow at his visually-impaired ‘mentor.’ “You really don’t know me in the least, do you?” Returning his gaze to the flask, he groaned. “Now it’s covered in sand, too.”

The first hint of annoyance crept into Atrus’s voice. “If you had honored our agreement, perhaps...”

Isaac couldn’t contain a laugh. “Honor? You are lecturing me about honor?”

Atrus’s response was delivered almost half-heartedly. “Haven’t you ever heard of honor amongst thieves?”

Isaac turned his attention back to Atrus for the moment. “A thief with honor is like a king with morals. Both have their place, but only in the tales mothers tell their sons.” Swiveling back to regard the flask, Isaac stretched his arm forward. “I’ll just clean it off...” Bunching the rough burlap of his sleeve, he rubbed the sand away from the flask.

Isaac yelped in surprise as the inscription began to glow, the flask levitating out of his hands. A rumbling noise seemed to permeate the chamber even as the cap on the flask began to shake violently. Atrus, his vision finally restored, gave first the tin container and then his companion a disapproving look. “Now look what you’ve done,” came the older man’s taunt.

Isaac opened his mouth to respond, but was cut short. The cap flew off the flask and ricocheted off the wall, striking Atrus squarely in the forehead, apparently with enough force to cause him to reel in pain. An orange smoke filled Isaac’s lungs, though it did not hurt, and a gout of flame spewed forth from the opened flagon. A thunderous voice, belonging to a bronze-skinned humanoid who the clouds parted to reveal, echoed powerfully in the cramped tomb. “I am the mighty Alarin su-Sural, Genie Lord of the Third Kingdom! For my peoples’ crimes, I was bound to this container, forced to serve whomsoever releases me with three wishes.” The being’s eyes were pools of orange-red energy.

Though normally frightened by the supernatural, Isaac instead was intrigued by this mystic creature’s offer. His eyes lit with avarice as his voice trembled with excitement. “A genie, huh? I knew it was something important...”

Atrus frowned, rubbing his forehead. “Lucky guess.” The dark-haired man lifted the cap that had struck him from the sandy floor of the chamber, his calculating hazel eyes sizing up the genie. “If that’s the case, wish some water for us. I’m thirsty.”

Isaac looked at his companion incredulously. “Are you kidding? Why would I wish for that?”

The genie grinned widely, his sharp teeth an unsettling omen. “You ‘wish for that,’ then? Very well.” Waving his hand, the genie said a brief incantation, and before Isaac could protest, Isaac, Atrus, the genie, and the unopened bottle were in the ocean.

Isaac took a deep lungful of water, thrashing and screaming about. “I... ca...n’t... swim!”

Atrus scowled at genie, who was cackling madly. “Then wish us somewhere else!”

Isaac nodded. “I wi... sh... that we...”

“Be careful what you say!” Atrus screamed.

Managing to breathe air, Isaac started again as he kicked about. “I wish that we were in the Kettan Royal Treasury!”

The genie waved his ring-covered hand, but stopped, staring at Isaac blankly. “I cannot comply with your command, Master.”

Atrus became angry. “Imperial Treasury! Ketta is an Empire, boy!”

“Fine!” Isaac rasped. “I wish that we were in the Kettan Imperial Treasury!”

The genie nodded, holding his hand out again. “Very well, Master.” The being stretched an arm out and Isaac felt his stomach roll as the scenery morphed around him again.

Isaac rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the torchlight. “That was cruel,” he spat venomously.

An unfamiliar voice resounded from behind them. “Not half as cruel as where you’re going.”

Isaac twirled around, seeing a squadron of heavily-armed, heavier-armored soldiers. “How did I not see that coming?”

Atrus didn’t wait to act. Springing forward, he placed the cap on the flask, the smoky form of the genie dissipating. As the soldiers aimed their crossbows, Atrus rubbed the lamp, and the orange smoke billowed in all directions. Lifting both the bottle and Isaac’s collar, he ran in the opposite direction, the smoke and the emerging genie providing ample cover. “I am the mighty Alarin su-Sural, Genie Lord of the Third Kingdom! For my peoples’ crimes...”

“I’ve heard it already!” Atrus shouted. Rounding a corner, another approaching squad raised their spears, an alarm sounding. Atrus looked both ways as Isaac wrestled out of his grasp, formulating a plan. Confidently, Atrus stated, “I wish that time would stop for everyone but myself, you, and Isaac, for a period no longer nor shorter than from this point until I say a command word of my choosing for the second time, that word being ‘Asparagus.’”

The genie pondered for a moment. One of the guards approaching from the rear lifted his crossbow, firing it at Atrus; the tip of the bolt was dripping with poison. The genie waved his hand, his booming voice filled with disappointment. “Your wish is granted.”

Atrus’s emerging grin was cut short by the crossbow bolt burrowing into his shoulder. Spinning around, he screamed angrily, “I told you to stop time!”

The genie’s sharp-toothed grin reappeared. “For everyone, not everything.” Angrily, Atrus slammed the cap back onto the bottle, the genie’s form vanishing once again.

Isaac looked to his companion with a hint of worry. “That looks poisoned. You might want to wish for a cure.”

Atrus glared at him. “Oh no.” He could feel his blood already beginning to slow through his veins. “No, I wasted one wish already, to get us out of this mess you caused.” Sweat began to from on his brow as he held the flask to Isaac. “Your wish.”

Isaac took it angrily. “Fine.” He removed the cap, watching the genie’s smoke furl forth. The genie stared imperiously toward him, but Isaac was unperturbed. “I wish that the events of the last few minutes could be undone, up until the point where I made my first wish.”

The genie put a hand up in objection. “If this is your wish, it will not undo the amount of wishes you have used. You will no longer have any wishes left.”

Isaac counted on his fingers and grumbled. Taking one long look at Atrus, he debated whether he should amend his wish—after all, he was already in the Royal Treasury—or if he should help his only ‘friend.’ “Oh, by the Nine Hells,” Atrus growled, falling to one knee. “Time can’t be returned to normal if I’m dead.”

The smaller man nodded reluctantly. “Yes, my wish still stands.”

The genie nodded, waving his hand. “Your wish is granted.”

As quickly as it had started, they found themselves in the crypt. “Great, now we’re back on Dontorr,” Isaac moaned, “And I don’t have any wishes left.” His brow furrowed as he faced the genie. “Wait, how do I remember that? If time was turned back...”

The bronze-skinned being shrugged. “When it comes to time travel, sometimes it is best not to ask such questions.”

“Asparagus.” Atrus snickered as he snatched the flask from Isaac’s hands. “All right then, I still have two wishes left.” He tapped his foot impatiently. “But what to wish for? Hmm.”

Isaac rolled his eyes. “You should wish to be the Emperor of Vestin or something.”

Atrus gave him a dull look. “No, Vestin doesn’t have an Emperor, it’s a democracy.”

Isaac threw his arms upward. “That’s what makes it so brilliant!”

Atrus looked away, indignant. “Your definition of ‘brilliant’ is sorely lacking...” The genie growled fiercely, and Atrus took the hint. “Fine, fine. I wish...” He snickered. “I wish to have the sacred blade, Red Valor.”

Isaac’s face brightened. “Ooooh, good one.”

The genie stretched a hand out, his trademark grin causing a knot to form in Atrus’s stomach. “Very well. Your wish is granted.”

A bolt of lightning slammed into the crypt, causing a portion of the ceiling to collapse around them. Standing before them was a man with short-cropped blond hair, golden robes with black trim, and a confused look etched onto his face. His golden eyes narrowed as he lifted his sword, which gleamed with magic. Atrus recognized both the sword for its scarlet hilt and its owner, a legendary swordsman, and mumbled, “I wish I hadn’t done that...”

The genie laughed. “Your wish is granted.”

As another bolt of lightning carried the man away, Atrus kicked the flask angrily. “Oh, come on! That one counted?”

The genie nodded. “Yes.” The genie sighed deeply. “Now, my duties here are done. Replace the cap to return me to my prison.”

Atrus looked to Isaac. “Go on, do it.”

Isaac’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? I thought you had it.”

Atrus checked his bag nervously. “No, you took it off last when you made that wish...”

The genie’s malevolent grin broadened even more. “Perhaps you left it in the Imperial Treasury.”

Isaac looked to the entity, slack-jawed. “I told you to put everything back!”

The genie shook his head. “No, you said that you wished that ‘the events of the last few minutes could be undone,’ there was nothing specific. I simply chose certain events to undo.”

Atrus looked to the bottle and then the genie. “Does this mean that you’re free? For all intents and purposes?”

The genie nodded, a blazing falchion materializing in his hands. “For all intents and purposes.”

Neither Atrus nor Isaac had ever ran for so long or far than on that hot desert afternoon.

USA PATRIOT Act: An Examination

(The following is a research paper I completed for an English Composition course, reproduced in its entirety.)

USA PATRIOT Act: An Examination

In the aftermath of the terrorist attacks of September 11th, 2001, a wave of homeland security and anti-terrorism legislation was passed by Congress. Among these was HR 3162 RS, more commonly known by the cognomen of the USA PATRIOT Act. The USA PATRIOT Act, simplified hereafter as the Patriot Act, is one of the most controversial pieces of federal legislation in recent years, due in part to the extensions it provides to executive authority. Among these extended authorities are the ability of executive branch to search personal records held by third parties, the power to conduct searches in secrecy, as well as an expansion to previous wiretapping methods.

These expansions could be characterized as contrary to the spirit and letter of the Bill of Rights, particularly the Fourth Amendment. This Amendment, which guarantees “[t]he right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures,” is the foundation for the American sensibility regarding the rights of the accused. The potential illegality of the Patriot Act’s provisions is therefore all the more grave, and makes the necessity of either revision or repeal all the more urgent.

The primary argument supporting the Patriot Act is its vital role in the defense of America against future terrorism. The proponents of the Act assert that the increased surveillance powers granted to the executive branch are vital to the defense of the United States. According to an article titled, “The USA PATRIOT Act: Preserving Life and Liberty,” published on a government website designed to support the position of the Patriot Act, the Act aided in “[t]he government’s success in preventing another catastrophic attack on the American homeland since September 11, 2001.” Due to the secret nature of these investigations, it is impossible to verify this claim of increased security. Even as an open democracy, there are some documents and findings that must understandably remain secret to ensure the safety of our country. However, to claim that the Patriot Act and related legislation is helping in this process without providing concrete support and real examples in which it was successfully applied is erroneous and unverifiable. As such, it is the prospect of supporters of the Patriot Act to accept the word of the government without actual proof, something most citizens are not likely to concede in a modern nation.

The first source of the problem within the Patriot Act revolves around the ability of the executive branch to search personal records. According to Section 215 of the Act, this expanded power permits government officials to “make an application for an order requiring the production of any tangible things (including books, records, papers, documents, and other items),” which must in turn be confirmed by a special court. This access to personal documents allows investigators to gain warrants to find out what we read, what we watch on television, who we talk to, and how we live our everyday lives. Although likely intended in the best interest of pursuing potential terrorists, the razor-thin line between such enhanced measures and an Orwellian police state draws ever closer. Although a judicial check is placed upon this power, the lack of accountability of such federal “special courts” to the general public could potentially negate this otherwise mitigating factor to executive control.

For example, in the article “Gag Order on 'John Doe' Lifted,” published in Library Journal, a prominent trade publication for librarians, a troubling implementation of this power is described by journalist Norman Oder; four Connecticut librarians were issued a gag order in response to a federal investigation. This group, known to the public and media at large simply as “John Doe,” succeeded in defeating the gag order in court, although the residing judge allowed for appeals from the federal government. According to Oder, a revision in the PATRIOT Act that occurred in 2004 now allows for individuals who have received gag orders “to challenge such National security Letters [sic], but they would have to wait a year, and the FBI would have discretion to dismiss the challenge for national security reasons.” That executive control over judicial processes remains in effect even after a revision in the Act is somewhat odd; the new ability to dismiss challenges outright makes the revision seem somewhat superficial.

In a follow-up report published in the Library Journal on April 1, 2007 titled “Criticism Over Patriot Act Use,” Oder describes a broader trend that seems to color the Section 215 document seizures; in the article, he states that “the FBI began using Section 215 authority more widely in 2006, and it's unknown how often [National Security Letters] have been used to gather information from libraries.” This lack of accountability is worrisome in an open democracy. Public knowledge is an important preventative measure to administrative abuse, and an entirely independent executive power has the appearance of impropriety.

It has been argued by supporters of this provision that the gag orders are justifiable. The article “The FBI's Secret Scrutiny” in the November 6, 2005 issue of The Washington Post includes a response to the arguments for public knowledge. Michael Mason, then Assistant FBI Director in the Washington Field Office (he has now been promoted to Executive Assistant Director), was quoted as saying, “I don't necessarily want somebody knowing what videos I rent or the fact that I like cartoons... But if those records are never used against a person, if they're never used to put him in jail, or deprive him of a vote, et cetera, then what is the argument?”

Assistant Director Mason's penchant for cartoons aside, this lax attitude of the insignificance of personal freedoms is perhaps fallible. That the records are “never used against a person” begs the question of why they are seized at all; if the process is as inconsequential as Mason expresses, the invasion of personal freedom can easily take precedence over investigations that have no admissibility in court. Although Mason may be willing to surrender his personal liberties for the benefit of investigations, not everyone has personal assurance as to how that information is handled.

To suggest that these gag orders and the contents of these searches be immediately made available is perhaps naive, but moderation between complete secrecy and absolute frankness could be struck. Perhaps the FBI and other agencies should be required to at least provide the quantity of gag orders applied for each year, and be supervised more carefully by the judiciary. If it is discovered that the matter being investigated is unrelated to national security, it is within reason to ask that the Justice Department be obligated to release the exact information regarding the National Security Letters, gag orders, and other executive authorities it exercised.

In addition, the Patriot Act has endowed executive branch officials with the ability to perform searches in secrecy. According to a study titled “Surveillance under the USA PATRIOT Act” by the American Civil Liberties Union, these new provisions allow for the government to “enter a house, apartment, or office with a search warrant when the occupants are away, search through their property, take photographs, and in some cases even seize property – and not tell
them until later.”

Such an allowance undermines the fundamental right of an accused party to face their accusers; the article goes on to highlight that this provision “has nothing to do with fighting terrorism,” a troubling fact. When normal police investigations can utilize this bypass to uncover evidence and only inform the accused party after the fact, the potential for further encroachment and abuse is more significant than otherwise. If the provision was limited to terrorism related investigations, it would perhaps be a more acceptable premise. As it stands, the “sneak and peek” investigation model could shake the foundation of the American justice system.

A notable abuse of the “sneak and peek” search was described by David Sarasohn in his article “The Patriot Act on Trial,” found in September 26, 2007 issue of the oldest continuously-published weekly magazine in the United States, The Nation. Apparently, during the course of a terrorism-related investigation, the FBI misled a federal judge to obtain a “sneak and peek” search warrant for Brandon Mayfield, a recent convert to Islam and a trial lawyer. Mayfield, a lawyer, had previously represented a person later convicted of terrorism-related charges in a custody case; he was also under initial suspicion from the government of Spain for connections to the March 2004 terrorist attacks in Madrid. Although the Spanish government eventually decided that Mayfield was not connected due to a mistake in fingerprinting, the FBI disregarded the report and claimed Mayfield's fingerprint was a “100 percent match.”

Soon after, Mayfield was detained as a “material witness” and kept under tight surveillance. After three weeks and an eventual match by Spanish investigators to an Algerian man, the FBI released Mayfield. However, this would not be the end of legal troubles for Mayfield; apparently, during his detention as a material witness, the FBI had secretly searched his home. According to a Justice Department report cited in the article, the following notification was eventually given to Mayfield:

Mr. Mayfield is hereby notified that the following property was seized, altered or reproduced during [Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act] searches of his residence: three hard drives of three desktop computers and one loose hard drive were copied; several documents in the residence were digitally photographed; ten DNA samples were taken and preserved on cotton swabs and six cigarette butts were seized for DNA analysis; and approximately 335 digital photographs were taken of the residence and the property therein.... Mr. Mayfield is also hereby notified that he was the target of electronic surveillance and other physical searches authorized pursuant to FISA.

That such extensive measures were taken against a man who was entirely unconnected to the incident that he was detained for, and that the connection had already been refuted by the Spanish government, highlights the disturbing potential that the expanded FISA powers grant federal investigators. Understandably, Mayfield launched lawsuits against the federal government in response to the searches, though it will likely take several years, many appeals, and an inordinate amount of money before any clear resolution is reached.

The expansion of wiretapping abilities provided by the Patriot Act has also come under particular scrutiny. Although an existing exception to wiretapping laws existed to allow investigators to monitor foreign communication in the defense of the United States, the Patriot Act expanded this authority to allow these sorts of investigations to be applicable to domestic cases, according to the ACLU. Although these wiretaps are legally mandated to be approved by yet another special court, the lack of accountability and public record produced by this institution make it appear to be more of a hollow nicety than an impartial arbitrator.

According to the text of § 1803, subchapter I, Chapter 36, Title 50 of the Federal Intelligence Surveillance Act, the courts that monitor these communications are even one step further removed from public scrutiny and accountability. These special courts are to “be maintained under security measures established by the Chief Justice in consultation with the Attorney General and the Director of National Intelligence,” combining judicial and executive duties in an effort to preserve national security. However, outside of the general issuance of a warrant in conjunction with the FISA court, there is little other responsibility or oversight from the judicial branch. Unlike typical warrants, those granted through a Federal Intelligence Surveillance Court do not require a list of objects or information taken during the investigation to be submitted afterward, a fact that essentially grants investigators free reign.

A technique that has come under particular scrutiny regarding the expansion of wiretapping authority is data mining. As defined by Joe W. Pitts of The Washington Spectator in his March 17, 2007 article titled “The End of Illegal Domestic Spying? Don't Count on It,” data mining is the “automated review of significant quantities of data to discern patterns and predict and influence behavior.” Pitts goes on to state that such information searches operate under the assumption that information related to terrorist communications would be easily distinguishable from the bulk of information that such automated reviews would inherently draw.

A criticism of data mining can be drawn from this. The collection of bulks of information from citizens, even if it is inadmissible in court and is to be sorted by an automated system, once again positions the investigators into a precarious position. As a broad interpretation of the FISA Act and the expanded powers granted by the Patriot Act, data mining collects information from private citizens and analyzes it, something that could be perceived as a violation of the Fourth Amendment. Moreover, the data gained through data mining is noted by Pitts to be unreliable, as “mission creep (e.g., from counter-terrorism to tax collection or fighting crime generally), human errors in interpretation, terrorist-incident data sets too small to be useful as valid predictive models, false positives, and privacy concerns” all decrease the value and justifiability of this technique.

Even outside of data mining, wiretapping as allowed through the Patriot Act is controversial. In the 2006 renewal of the Patriot Act, a new proviso allows investigators to wiretap businesses suspected of monopolistic behaviors, according the article “Boardrooms Crawling with Bugs?,” published in the magazine BusinessWeek. Obviously outside the scope of the original intentions of the law, the application of measures related directly to national security to civilian matters are precisely the type of “power creep” that some opponents of the Patriot Act have warned about. As the BusinessWeek article notes, these wiretaps could potentially pose a serious threat to the practices of corporations, allowing trade secrets and corporate information to be placed into public record.

In times of crisis, it is understandable for a government to act in haste in order to provide a sense of security and safety to its people. The Patriot Act is a prime example of a quickly conceived and hastily passed piece of legislation, but its effects were neither temporary nor entirely reassuring. That the Patriot Act has been renewed and extended past its deadline repeatedly by Congress, and that it has been expanded to further encroach upon the freedom of speech, the right to face an accusing party, and the right to privacy, is all the more troubling.

When private phone calls, personal property, and corporate board meetings (all of which belong to innocent individuals) become part and parcel to the operating procedures of federal agencies such as the FBI and the NSA, it becomes all the more evident that the ramifications of the Patriot Act and its hazy interpretations and implementation have not been fully evaluated by either lawmakers or the American public.

As such, there are a number of solutions that could be implemented by lawmakers to reconcile the infractions on personal freedoms imposed by the Patriot Act. Absolute and immediate repeal, although the simplest method of negating the Act, is also the most unlikely to occur. A more reasonable solution would be for Congress to allow the provisions of the Act to expire, rather than continuously renewing them. Furthermore, the further expansion of Patriot Act powers, notably the application of previous methods to corporate practices, fragment the argument of the Act's necessity and limitations.

In this nation, people are considered to be innocent until proven guilty. This fundamental aspect of our legal system is placed in jeopardy by the Patriot Act's provisions. If the government is allowed to circumvent the Bill of Rights in order to secure questionable evidence, even in the interest of national security, then there is no practical preventative measure to protect the people from the actions of the government. The accountability of elected officials to the populace is the key safeguard in keeping the government honest, and as such gag orders, NSLs, and “sneak and peek” searches all threaten the foundations of the democratic process.

Moreover, if the American people as a whole are to accept that the Patriot Act is designed to protect against terrorist attacks, intelligence agencies should release information proving such under the provisions of the Freedom of Information Act. Administration officials would likely win more support for the Patriot Act and its other programs in the “War on Terror” if it provided concrete proof of its past successes; since it is clear that the methods proscribed in the Patriot Act have been enacted, should not the positive results be presented to justify its measures?

In short, although the goals of the Patriot Act were deeply rooted in the troubling times surrounding the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001, the lag in the War on Terror and the slow creep of executive powers granted by the Patriot Act have raised serious questions about the relevance and necessity of the Act. As the Patriot Act prevents, in many ways, the release of proof that justifies its perpetuation, the American people are expected simply to rely on the honesty of their government in lieu of actual accountability. What is perhaps more troubling is the general undertones of the “ends justifying the means,” both within the Administration's handling of the Patriot Act powers and with its response to global terrorism; should we stoop to that distorted vision of morality? Is our rationalization and methodology worth the loss of our autonomy?

Where in the Constitution do the Founding Fathers describe shadowy courts that idly approve domestic spying? Where does it provide for the executive branch to suspend the rights of the accused, to override judicial authority, and to conceal from the American people their activities? How does the spirit of fear, secrecy, executive oversight, and the loss of personal freedom contribute to a safer nation? Every American who makes a phone call overseas, checks a potentially controversial book out of the library, or a myriad other everyday activities would heed well the advice of Founding Fathers. In the often-misquoted words of Benjamin Franklin (as clarified by researcher Gary Frost), “Those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.”


-----
Works Cited

American Civil Liberties Union, "Surveillance under the USA PATRIOT Act". Elements of Argument. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin's, 2006.

Franklin Quoted by Minsky. Gary Frost. March 30, 2004. futureofthebookd.com. April 27, 2006.
http://www.futureofthebook.com/stories/storyReader$605

Gellman, Barton. "The FBI's Secret Scrutiny." The Washington Post 06 Nov 2005 A01. 12 Apr 2007.

Goldberg, Bernard. "Connecting the Dots... to Terrorism". Elements of Argument. 194-201. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin's, 2006.

Oder, Norman. "Criticism Over Patriot Act Use.” Library Journal 1 Apr. 2007: 14-13. Research Library Core. ProQuest. 11 Apr. 2007

Oder, Norman. “Gag Order on 'John Doe' Lifted” Library Journa1 May 2006: 22. Research Library Core. ProQuest. 11 Apr. 2007

Pitts, Joe W. "The End of Illegal Domestic Spying? Don't Count on It." The Washington Spectator 15 Mar. 2007. ProQuest. Illinois Central College. 12 Apr. 2007 .

Sarasohn, David. "The Patriot Act on Trial." The Nation 26 Sep. 2005 28-29. Research Library
Core. ProQuest. 12 Apr. 2007 "The USA PATRIOT Act: Preserving Life and Liberty". United States Department of Justice. April 11, 2007 .

United States Cong. Senate. 107th Congress, 1st Session. H. R. 3162, Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism (USA PATRIOT ACT) Act of 2001 [introduced in the U.S. Senate, 24 October 2001].

Woellert, Lorraine. “Boardrooms Crawling With Bugs?” Business Week 8 May 2006: 14. Research Library Core. ProQuest. 13 Apr. 2007

Jerry Falwell is dead!!!!!!

No joke.

Sensation

I flip on the television, each channel is static. Empty, senseless, obnoxious. The occasional flickering image scrolls across, quickly to descend back into the mindlessness that preceded it. Soon, my mind offers a context, the images become real, and I realize it's not static at all-- this is the programming.

I can faintly see the flickering image of a child killed in war.

I go blind in one eye as I watch CNN. I can only believe half of what I see, but I trust it nonetheless. The Newsman married the Politician's daughter, but he assures me he has no bias. As blind as I am, he is blinder still-- he hides the truth of his father-in-law, otherwise revealing an indictment against himself. My voice goes hoarse as I shout warnings to the random passerby, my pleadings melting into the mass of hopelessness. I can either scream in the city and be drowned or whisper in the country and echo.

I can faintly hear the buzz of an FBI wiretap on my phone.

I see recurring images of the missing white girls, angry black men, fundamentalist terrorists, and forest fires, and realize I've nearly gone deaf. The whisper of corruption is completely gone, and I can no longer trust my senses. The blank smiles and practiced reactions become such a pattern that I can't tell genocide from panda bears.

Tears of blood trickle down my cheek as the world becomes scarlet. The smell of death surrounds me as oil seeps through the carpet, the world becoming nothing more than the smells my nose can discern. Led by the anchorman, I know not where he's leading me; I've come to accept his guidance without question.

I can faintly smell the oil on his hands.

My olfactory shuts down; it has been overloaded from the chaos. I can taste the smog of the city, but eventually it's gone too. I can't tell whether it is society that has abandoned me, or if I have been lead away from it. The truth has become completely concealed, but still I trudge onward.

I can faintly feel the barrel of a pistol pressed against my forehead.

And soon, I can no longer even feel. Everything has become empty, indistinct, senseless. The context of my life vanishes with whatever remains of my being, and my identity is scattered across the floor. My spirit remains trapped, this void consuming and bonding with my intangible essence. I have become my hatred. I have become the void. The emptiness. Static.

I'm an atheist.

Yes, I've outed myself as one of those wretched, hand-wringing, mustache-twirling, godless cretins, whose sole purpose is to live in sin and destroy the image of God in which the world was made.

If you believe the above description is applicable to atheists, please stop reading now. I'm not in the mood to deal with zealots.

And no, I don't believe religion is the single worst thing to happen to man, responsible for more deaths and suffering than anything in history. That would be struggles over resources, which is basic politics. I don't believe that religion is a plague that needs to be wiped out, and irreverent and blatantly inflammatory individuals-- be they Jerry Falwell, Richard Dawkins, or Jack Chick-- have no place in civilized philosophical discourse.

It's not that I don't know the Bible. I was raised and confirmed in the Lutheran Church, have a fairly solid grasp on the majority of the Bible's parables and stories, and understand the implicit philosophical and moral lessons that can be derived from it. I think a moderate Christian mentality can be healthy, so long as it does not entirely preclude the existence of the phenomenon described in the pages of biology, medicine, physics, and other branches of science.

This is getting beyond the point, however. I've been asked the same few questions any time I utter the dreaded sentence, "I'm an atheist," to a particularly religious individual; I'm not faulting religion for this, simply some interpretations. I'd like to share a few of these, and my responses.

Q: How can you not believe in God? Everything that exists is so complex, do you honestly think it *evolved* that way (said with either a pleading tone or a sneer, much to my dismay)?

A: Since when does complexity denote design? The forces of gravity interact in such a complex manner, with the physical attraction of all objects in the universe occurring simultaneously, are so incessantly complex and interwoven because of their nature. Justifying the existence of God as the highest order because things seem overly complicated to us seems to denote a problem with us, rather than a problem with complexity.

Q: How can you live thinking there is no afterlife? The world is so depressing, I would hate to think what my life would be like without a heaven afterward!

A: Everyone has their own raison d'etre, and not everyone needs the promise of a divine reward to function in the now. Rather than writing away my anxieties and hopes, yearning for the life after this, I'm doing as much as possible to ensure that I enjoy this life while it lasts. Making the world a better place and creating a positive legacy are all the assurance I need-- I honestly don't want to live forever, especially not in eternal bliss. Conflict is the spice of life, after all.

Q: How can you take the chance that there's a Hell?

A: Y'know, it's odd that the word "chance" is used, but I'm going to save my free will/determinism rant for another time. To this one, I usually just shrug. I believe in owning up to the consequences for my actions, so if I show up at the Pearly Gates and end up having a chat with God, I fully intend on starting it with, "my bad," followed by as many questions as I can get before I am smote.

I'm a skeptic. Thomas was allowed to doubt, so should I.

Thumping Headphones and Humming Speakers, 4/29/2007

Things have been hectic lately; I've had a myriad of papers and other assignments to do. Such is the nature of academia.

Regardless, here's the top 5 albums I am jamming to at the moment:
5) 2Pac: All Eyes On Me
Faux thug posturing or no, there are plenty of classics to make this album worthwhile. Be it the high-paced chemistry of "2 of Amerikaz Most Wanted," the funky groove of "California Love," or the touching shout-out, "I Ain't Mad At Ya," there's enough good to ignore some of the repetitive post-thug posturing. And that's just disc 1.


4) Mos Def: Black on Both Sides
I honestly haven't had as much chance to listen to this as I would like, but Mos is as clever on the mic as he is pointed.


3) Lupe Fiasco: Food & Liquor
As I said last time, Lupe has energy and lyrical prowess to spare. The replay value on this album is outstanding; I feel as though each time I listen to a track, it's a different experience.

2) Mos Def and Talib Kewli Are Black Star
Two outstanding emcees allied together in one of the greatest hip-hop collaborations of all time. Black Star provides insight, provocation, and lyrics that can be charming, soothing, or riling, depending on the situation.
1) Brother Ali: The Undisputed Truth
Arguably the single strongest album I've heard in a long time-- perhaps one of the best in my collection. Brother Ali's rhythmically melodic delivery is just the beginning of what sets him apart from the herd; an albino who feels race is an invention, Ali's message ranges from his Muslim faith, his political views, and his bouts with homelessness and family problems. Never preachy, Ali prefers to tell about his past rather than mope. Ant's production is slick, with thumping basses intermingling with soulful tunes in what is arguably the most impressively dynamic soundclash of the year so far.

Rap: All About Degredation

Serious hip-hop heads have probably seen all of these.

This is all proof that hip-hop is only about degradation, misogyny, and irresponsibility:











You know what? Let the haters do their thing. They'll never understand it anyway.

A Portrait in Heroism

Among the victims of the tragedy at Virginia Tech was a Professor of Engineering Science and Mechanics named Liviu Librescu, a Holocaust survivor who held off the gunman so that his students could escape. [1] [2]
Take some time out of your day to reflect on what happened and what can be done in the future to prevent such tragedy. The time for a national dialog has never been so immediate.

Never forget.

Crisis on Infinite Fronts

It's easy for me to sit here and take pot shots at the Administration, to ridicule the positions of overly-zealous columnists, and to wax philosophic about meaningless musings.

What isn't so easy is discussing real problems, actually going in depth about the crises that face our nation today, and the potential solutions of them. I have plenty of venom, but adding more poison to the water is only going to make things worse.

A lone madman stocks up on weaponry and decides to murder thirty-two people in the worst murdering spree in the history of American education.

The incident at Virginia Tech is a damning indictment to the sorry state of "national security" that we have, even in (perhaps especially in) a post-9/11 America. Thirty-two people were killed, and many of these deaths could have been prevented if not for miscommunication, poor response time, and a variety of other infrastructural nuances.

Thirty-two college students were murdered in cold blood, and they're reduced to nothing more than a headline and a deep uneasiness.

Was your first thought, "This is horrifying?" Was it, "This could happen to me?" Was it, "Something should be done about this madness?"

All three are equally valid and natural. But the problem is, most people won't care. They won't do anything. They'll give a, "Gee, that sucks," and move on in their daily lives. They'll talk about the tragedy, perhaps demand that some surface change be implemented in their home communities. Those that bother to worry about it will pressure schools to implement metal detectors, more rigorous searches, and a myriad other security measures that can stem the tide of weapons.

But they can't touch the hate in these madmen's hearts. They can't fix the broken lives of the criminally insane. A mind full of anger and bent on destruction can't be detected electronically. The poison that inflicts these peoples' minds and lives-- we can't stop them through words or laws or rules. We need to focus on pinpointing these sociopaths before they become so dangerous. And we also need to be able to stop the walking time bombs whenever they explode.

Today, thirty-two families now have to bury their sons and daughters. Brothers and sisters. Cousins, friends, students, lovers.

Parents will never be able to see their babies again.

How long will you remember?

1. Emily J. Hilscher
2. Ryan Clark
3. Ross Abdallah Alameddine
4. Brian Bluhm
5. Caitlin Hammaren
6. Jeremy Herbstritt
7. Rachael Elizabeth Hill
8. Matthew La Porte
9. Jarrett Lane
10. Henry Lee
11. Minal Panchal
12. Daniel Patrick O'Neil
13. Juan Ramon Ortiz
14. Daniel Pérez Cueva
15. Erin Peterson
16. Mary Karen Read
17. Reema Joseph Samaha
18. Leslie Sherman
19. Maxine Turner
20. Christopher Jamie Bishop
21. Jocelyne Couture-Nowak
22. Kevin Granata
23. Liviu Librescu
24. G. V. Loganathan
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.

Never forget.

Your World Today

TOP STORY: ANNA NICOLE SMITH STILL DEAD.

This is what happens when bad meets evil.
All of these little red dots-- those were Coalition fatalities.
Don Imus isn't the only racist getting headlines.
Bush: If we withdraw, the enemy wins?
Whaaat? Corporate greed and nepotism?
Mission accomplished, indeed.

Almost beyond belief
The Internet, obviously a failure-- should it be scrapped?
Kid arrested for writing on desk. Apparently, someone DOES want to make a federal case outta it.
Not news.
Sick as f*ck.

Rap Responsible for Abortion, Blacks Revealed to be Monolithic Hivemind

(April 14, 2007, PROVIDENCE ROCK) Esteemed journalist and self-described holy warrior Grant Swank took shots at rap music and the black community in general, much to the accolade of activist group Ignorance Is Our Mission (IIOM). During a lengthy exposée on misogyny within the rap community and the absolute innocence of radio commentor Don Imus, Swank revealed a hidden secret of the black community: they're all exactly the same.

As it turns out, everyone with a certain skin tone has exactly the same opinion, especially if they are prominent, wealthy, and easy targets. Al Sharpton and Reverend Jesse Jackson, who at times have been critical of rap music ("black mind control" in the eyes of IIOM), are the ringleaders of this domination conspiracy. "It's not about religion, upbringing, our cultural heritage, or our financial standing," an anonymous source tells us. "It's about getting the black message out. As for what that message is... well, only black folk are allowed to know."

Rap music and black leaders are responsible for abortion, the War in Iraq, AIDs (or is that the gays still?), crime, interracial marriage, and platypi. "If we were to total up all the things that the Great Black Conspiracy have caused in our society, it is more likely than not that there would be a negative balance," Calvin R. Acker, spokesperson for the IIOM said today. "It's not like our nation was founded on the unpaid slave labor of a particular racial group, and that ethnic and economic tensions remain to this day."

Regarding Imus, Acker became quiet for a moment. "Well, I mean, he's an employee of a private corporation who made a racist comment that got him fired. I mean, if you had a company and one of your employees made that kind of comment, you'd fire him too. And you would then proceed to grill your black employees as to why they listen to hip-hop."

Imus, who as of yesterday declared he would become a hermit residing in the backwater hills of rural Mississippi in order to achieve englightenment, could not be reached. On his answering machine, the automated voice simply states, "I'm just glad that everyone's forgetting what's important to expose the black conspiracy to undermine our youth. Those whippersnappers need to shape up or ship out."

The above work is parody, for Christ's sake. If you couldn't figure that out, you're either the biggest idiot on the planet or you are a racist asshole. I'm completely serious.

67 -year-old white man makes racial slur, Hip-Hop to Blame

(4/13/2007, MY COUCH) Don Imus, hip-hop enthusiast and known fan of the likes of Cam'ron, 50 Cent, Lil' Wayne, and of misogyny in general, made a recent remark on his radio show (which likely had hundreds of millions of listeners) that caused a minor controversy in the media. In case you hadn't heard, rap music directly took control of Imus's brain, retroactively causing every controversial statement the shock jock has ever made.

"It's not my fault," Imus was quoted saying to fake website KissMyAss.com. "Every time I hear Eminem spit that line where he kills his wife, I just can't keep the badness inside. I've got to let it out."

A movement has started to ban Imus from listening to hip-hop. "It's the right thing to do," rapper Aristo said in a press release sent via e-mail. "Hip-hop's an artform, not a message. If Imus can't invoke the name of rap music without bringing unjust criticism, he needs his collection taken from him. Those bootleg mixtapes, his Biggie Smalls poster, hell, even his Run-DMC and Rakim albums, just to be safe."

The above was a work of parody. Now can we please talk about something that matters?

Correction to the above information: Don Imus is only 66 years old. He is, however, still white.

Thumping Headphones and Humming Speakers, 4/13/2007

Here are the top five albums I'm currently jamming to:

#5 Lupe Fiasco, Food and Liquor
Arguably one of the best releases of 2006, Lupe presents a mixture of social commentary, personal conviction, and enthralling storytelling through his energetic and vibrant flow. Although a newcomer to the game, Lupe has the potential to be one of rap's best.

#4- Jay-Z, The Blueprint
With his rich flow and undeniably self-aggrandizing attitude, Jay brings a helplessly charismatic presence to this album. Released on September 11, 2001, Hov's self-indulgent lyrics are both a timeless masterpiece and a signal of a time now passed.

#3- Kanye West, Late Registration
Megaproducer Kanye West has been earning accolades since his debut, The College Dropout. An excellent album in its own right, Kanye's sophomore album shows a West who is more willing to experiment sonically, more able on the mic, and more charged in his message.

#2- Makaveli, The Don Killuminati: The Seven Day Theory
The last album recorded and produced by Tupac Shakur before his untimely death, The Don Killuminati is at times dark, paranoid, and disturbing. That Shakur was so filled with anger and fear towards former colleagues like Dr. Dre, as well as East Coast rivals Nas, B.I.G., Mobb Deep, and Jay-Z, perhaps magnifies the tragedy and mystery of his murder.

#1- Immortal Technique, Revolutionary vol. 1

Immortal Technique doesn't want your approval. He demands your attention. With vivid imagery, mad metaphor, on-point political messages, and an in-your-face persona on the mic, Technique is ahead of the game, and he knows it. In his own words: "I'm iller than any plague God gave Moses to send / You wanna make amends, 'cause I'm the reason that the earth shakes."

Hail to the Chief

Illusions: Choice

I'm sitting in Philosophy, watching as mere seconds stretch into infinity. The question of the hour relates to the dichotomy between determinism and freedom; is our existence determined entirely by outside forces, or are we truly free? The tatterdemalions and rapscallions are arguing in circles, stating openly that we indeed have freedom in the choices we make everyday. The refutations of our professor fall on deaf ears. They claim we have a degree of freedom in our lives, and despite the limitations that exist, we still have the ability to pick our own course.

The problem therein lies in the concept of degrees of freedom; there is no such thing. By its definition, freedom is limitless, and admitting a degree is admitting an overarching system of control. By the laws of logic, specifically that of non-contradiction, stating that we have limited freedom is highly illogical. Instead, I offer that we have the illusion of freedom: I call this choice.

We are beings in a physical world, bound by physical laws. We cannot defy these laws through our own personal conviction, and are therefore our potential freedom is limited to a physical reality. Causality itself is proof of control; every reaction must have an equal and opposite reaction. This is the most fundamental aspect of science and our understanding of the universe.

Since we are bound by consequence, our actions are inherently limited. If I am forced to choose between eating or dying, I am still being forced between two options; the laws of nature confine me to accept a limited reality, and my choice is not entirely free. Since we are bound by the laws of physics, nature, man, and reality, we are forced to constantly make choices, decisions, and critical analysis, all of which rely on in-built systems. I cannot actually create a reality to escape the eating/starvation dilemma, and I am therefore determined to either consume or die.

The question of imagination arises when pertaining to the topic of freedom; is the mind itself inherently free, due to its ability to transcend the boundaries of reality? The imagination allows someone to enter into a different reality, an existence that offers a personal solution to the causality dilemma. Therefore, it could be argued that within the mind we are actually free.

Another argument against determinism is Chaos Theory. In this argument, it notes the inability to predict electron patterns and other unpredictability in nature and physics as proof that there is no hierarchal order. This argument, an unknowing modernization of the classic miracle case for the existence of God, assumes that because something is currently unobservable and unknown, it is also entirely preternatural. If something defies the laws of nature, it is by definition supernatural. The underlying order and connection between these things is, in an empirical sense, likely there, but the inability of modern comprehension to grasp it should not be dismissed as absolute randomness.

I welcome any challenges to these statements.

The Socio-Economic Question of Our Time

In every generation, there is a philosophical quandary that defines the struggles and travails of the youth. In the time of Moses, it was how the Hebrew people should conduct themselves. In the times of the Crusades, it was which religious group to slaughter under the banner of Christ. In the 60's, it probably had something to do with doing a lot of drugs and/or how often one should bathe (as the bathtub should, by all means, be used predominately for tie-dying).

We are today faced with one such question, one that will forever define us in the eyes of our children, grandchildren, and ultimately the annals of history; this debate will divide our people and decide the course of human events.

The question, of course, on the hearts and minds of all the youth today: Why is Mims hot?

Forgive my bandwagoning, there are people who have answered the question with much greater clarity than the following discussion. Permit me, for the moment, to discuss the finer point of Mims' currently-in-dispute hotness, namely the economic effects of someone so hot.

To quote the illustrious Mims:

I'm into shutting stores down so i can shop
If you need a bird I can get it chopped
Tell me what you need you know i get 'em by the flock
I call ma homie black meet on the ave
I hit Wash Heights with the money in the bag
We into big spinners
See my pimping never dragged

I agree, his pimping never dragged. Apparently, Mims is hot because he enjoys destabilizing local economies in order to pump large amounts of currency into the hands of the retail sector. However, one has to wonder if, when Mims shuts "stores down so i can shop [sic]", the store in fact recoups the loss of additional traffic it would have otherwise maintained. Does Mims shut down the local Wal-Mart in order to buy a new vacuum cleaner? Regardless of the effects such practices have on the community, surely Mims' "homies" appreciate his hotness and his general level of being fly.

If the community, and indeed the world at large, is going to survive this wave of hotness, they must realize that the very foundations of the capitalist system could be in jeopardy. I urge you to write your Congressman to support legislation that favors non-discriminatory service in relation to a patron's level of hotness; although the battle against being fly must wait until another day, perhaps artists like Mims will come to understand the impact of their actions.

Sonic Boom

As a white kid from the rural Midwest, my choice in music has been criticized on occasion by my family and peers. Unsure of what attracts me to the genre of hip-hop, I'm frequently asked why I-- someone who as a boy was a classically-trained pianist, and who is knee-deep in country and rock territory-- would be interested in rap. Although plenty of local white teenagers around this area bite into the MTV hype of rappers like Yung Joc, Young Jeezy, Young Buck, Lil' Wayne, and anyone sporting either a G-Unit tattoo or a blinged-out grill, few seem to be interested in the likes of Public Enemy, the Wu-Tang Clan, or Nas.

You know, actual hip-hop. Music.

The winter before last, I had never really listened to rap, primarily jamming to the stylings of "Weird" Al Yankovic and a few rock bands; Styx, Queen, and Aerosmith come to mind. When alone and surfing on the web, I came across a few music videos by Eminem, someone who I had obviously heard quite a bit about, but I had never actually heard. Since I was extraordinarily bored, I decided to watch a video (at the time, "When I'm Gone" was a huge hit, so I started with it). Although retrospectively speaking, "When I'm Gone" is one of Em's less impressive offerings, I was swept away by the vivid imagery, the interesting wordplay, the energy, and the intense emotions evocable by a genre that I had previously dismissed as misogynist, ultraviolent, and ultimately not meant for me.

I settled on buying a CD, and I selected Eminem's Encore. Yes, I know it is considered by most critics to be his worst studio album. Likewise, I know there are atrocious songs throughout the album that encourage judicious use of the skip button. But tracks like "Mosh," "Like Toy Soldiers," "Yellow Brick Road," and "Never Enough" cemented my growing interest in rap. Over the next year or so, I continued my casual interest in Eminem, buying The Eminem Show and The Marshall Mathers LP.

Eventually, I began to look to other artists on Eminem's label Shady Records, buying Obie Trice and D12 albums. It wasn't until December of '06 that I decided to branch out, anxious to explore hip-hop, wide-eyed with amazement at the untapped potential the genre had.

It's been about four months or so since I began to seriously expand my library, and I have a wide variety (both good and bad, mostly the former), ranging from the aforementioned politically conscious Public Enemy to the energetic poetry of 2Pac, Nas, and Jay-Z, from megaproducers like Dr. Dre and Kanye West to the likes of Mos Def, DANGERDOOM, and Rakim. Most of my recent purchases have been advised by Rizoh, and everything he's recommended I have thoroughly enjoyed. I can offer no higher praise than that.

In short, although I recognize hip-hop (like any brand of music) isn't for everyone, don't dismiss it simply because of what you hear on MTV or what you think it's about. There are as many different voices and outlooks out there as there are artists, and you might be pleasantly surprised by what you hear.

Initial Exposition

Let's make something perfectly clear.

This isn't for you, it's for me.

I spend inordinate amounts of time writing, be it various vignettes in frivolous fiction, miscellaneous musings on the morality of modern men, or unpromising prose and poetry (perhaps of no permissible purpose). I think I know far more on what I think I know than I know, whereas I know far more than I think on what I think I do not know.

Like all humans, I am ruled by a series of contradictions, the kind that the salient ruminate upon and the unaware aggravate others with. A pacifist who listens to gangsta rap (but prefers more insightful and soulful music), a loner who prefers company but shuns it repeatedly, a student who rarely applies himself yet continues to do well, a writer who rarely feels like writing. I gain the greatest enthusiasm about projects that are the first to fall. I love politics but hate politicians. Fantasy, comic books, and the unreality in general are my passions, yet I remain unintentionally grounded and pragmatic in all things.

Let the ride begin.