you got chocolate in my peanut butter

In response to the two yuletide would-be airline disasters, Xeni Jardin of BoingBoing fame put together this wonderful posting.  Systematically, the reactionaries are just ruining the flight-experience, just like the bloated security software they liberally lather on our computers.  I guess that this underpants-bomber was not too concerned over maintaining a sensible safety-to-convenience ratio, just as the shoe-bomber and the mystery-liquid and great unknown bombers of Christmas Future were not thinking about the farce that they were about to set off.  Apparently now one cannot use the airplane toliet during the last hour of flight before decent starts.  Meanwhile, I imagine that the Italian air travel administration will have to fold to the status quo imposed by Ryan Air.  Italy was actually moving towards relaxing some of the more non-sensical measures and allowing passengers to board domestic flights with forms of identification like drivers' and hunting licenses.  Ryan Air, representing a large portion of the Italian in-country flights, however, does not like this move, since it will create more work for ticketing agents and put kinks in on-line check-ins.  I guess it's a good thing that the majority of Ryan Air flights last less than one hour (apparently, that last hour is golden time for mad-bombers) and plan to install pay toliets on their flights.

tierekreis

Some weeks ago, at the kick off to the Christmas season, Saint Nickolaus brought us these great, giant zodiac mugs with our star signs.  I am not a strong adherent of astrology, but as with the curious describtors and biographies printed here, I am always wont to ask, how did they know.  Now if some wandering swami or other type of zodiacal pollster were to ask me what my favourite food is, I probably would not automatically respond "onions and garlic" like the mug says but I feel like that is probably more accurate than any spontaneous answer I would give, especially when H asks me what I want for dinner.  Scorpios generally get a bad reputation, astrologically speaking, and are characterized as cold, jealous and secretive, but that's probably pretty spot on as well.

schnee und matsch or "cover your brake"

I am very happy that the storm of tee-tiny snow flakes that blanketed this area is dispersing to mush.  It amazes me that when the first heavy snowfall of the year comes around, drivers go into panic-mode, like they've never, ever driven in snow before and let driving rules of engagement slip.  People are less courteous and take more chances in hopes of inching forward, sloppy parking, tossing wet things on car upholstery, driving half-blind from unscraped windows or condensation.  I have done hasty things in the snow that I am not proud to admit to.  I think this new car is quite a little prima donna flashing its fancy complaint that tyre-pressure is too low, whereas I think that is a natural consequence of the laws of Gauss and thermodynamics.  A month ago, I had to take a class for winter driving safety.  I can see myself bumbling around in the mornings like these bundled up unfortuneates, and the video had a catchy admonition while driving in potentially dangerous situations: "Cover your brake."  One should always be prepared to stop well in advance of encroaching danger.  I informed H that road conditions were "amber" yesterday.  I could not say what exactly that meant, however--terrorists on the prowl on the Autobahn.  Always remember, cover your brake.

laudable ennumerations

Even before the tree has had a chance to dry out and shed its needles or we have had a chance to plan for New Year's, the agents of recognition are out on the prowl, deciding what are the superlatives of this past year, and ten is the standard unit, even if it takes some reaching and duplication to come up with that many.  Top 10 movies, top 10 economic stories, top 10 memoriable moments, top 10 disasters, top 10 inventions--and the self-referential bunch, top 10 episodes, top 10 doctor's visits, tops, flops, and other sundries.  In some cases, they are even trying for the whole decade, not the roaring Aughts, but the ten-year span between 1999 and 2009.  It's nice to remember cultural currency but not when it's this fresh.  2010 must be an Aught too.

bread & circuses

Almost nightly, I drive past the big tent set up in the Festplatz and I am just astounded by the giant, illuminated hemispheres, hoops, that are part of the support structure for the big top.  I wonder if such things as circuses and carnivals were not exactly left behind in terms of applying technology and generating aesthetical wonderment.  A grubby old disco with a decent sound-system and DJ can be as good as any fancy, sleek establishment, but there are definitely more accessible lighting and pyrotechnic options and arcade effects.  I wonder what progress has been made in the three-ring-arena.  I have not been to a circus in ages, satisfied that they are only good for tragic headlines, wild beasts going amok, and scary clown nightmare fuel, but maybe now there is something more dazzling to see.  I am nearly tempted to go and see the lion-tamer perform on the equivalent of a LED dancefloor.

netiquette or more cow bell

Sometimes I feel terrorized by directed and undirected chimes and ring-tones.  Every ubiquitous ping, ding and whistle, no matter what demanding electronic detritus it is attached to, comes in fast and intimate and nagging.  Are their established rules of form for when an SMS can be a substitute for an e-mail?  Is there a measure for urgency?  I feel quite old-fashioned sometimes, with my pay-as-you-go Handy with only a bald reserve of credit saved for a real emergency.  Cell phones, I think, are not for chatting or pillow-talk, unless there is no other viable alternative.  Waiting, sometimes, does not seem to be an option.  All the static and mystery, not immediately identifable or sourced, noises lose their meaning.  A calling-plan and perhaps a nicer Handy with an integrated touch-sensitive keyboard (and demonstrating a more expert range of sound-effects) for expediting dispatches might lend a sense of importance to my mental notes.

psychology of superstition

Alternet, which regularly posts some pretty engrossing articles, has a recent one by Anneli Rufus on the fadism surrounding conspiracy theories and belief in super-secret societies.  The argument that in times of crisis, people turn to the occult as a solace and an opiate.  While perhaps people are prone to abstract their problems onto a malevolent or benevolent overlord and search for blame or excuses, I do not think that is the whole story.  Paranormal facination has its following, more or less mainstreamed, year in and year out, and world governments, rife with error and missed-opportunities, do not exactly convey the united front that the true-believers are expecting.  If anything, a quagmire of conspiracies is rather disappointing.  Under a perfect regime, all the conspiracy theorists would have been rounded up and disappeared long ago for knowing what they know.  Obviously, that has not happened yet.  If anything, all the theater is masterful distraction, choreography, so one won't pay attention to the man behind the curtain, but I am not sure what other moves are orchestrated.  Belief in whatever mythology has traces of motivation in it; being able to discriminate among the talismen and charms might lead to the top.

a mark, a yen, a buck or a pound

The Guardian last week published a facinating article that details UN findings that financial watchdogs, at the height of the economic apocalypse, were exceedingly lax about discriminating between laundering and legitimate business operations (perhaps there is no day-light twixt the twain as it is).  This roughly one-third of a trillion dollars circulating in the international banking system for the past few months from the drug and weapons trade probably kept world markets from total collapse.  This turning a blind eye to things below board is another insult and demonstrates the poor planning on behalf of governments in liberally tossing out those stimulus funds to businesses too big to fail.  Perhaps the public should let the syndicate churn out swine-flu vaccine or execute a manned-mission to Mars, if they are not doing so already.  Above is an image of the corn field in the middle of Liechtenstein.  It seems quite strange to me that a country whose flat land is at such a premium, the biggest open space would be for this purpose.  I am convinced that this is where things go when they are disappeared, like with the little boy from the Twilight Zone who could send people "to the cornfield."  Maybe the stimulus funds are stashed in Vaduz.