There was one rule I used to espouse to others when entering into a flame war. "Do Not Feed the Bears." It just keeps them coming back, doesn't it? There's a reason they tell you not to feed the animals when going through the drive-through safari. You may have seen the videos of the hoards of baboons scrambling to get into someone's car after they made the mistake of rolling down their window to offer a peanut.
On the one hand, I should be grateful someone is reading what I write. But what to do when your new "fan" is someone whose time is occupied with "BLLARRGGHHH!!! DEMOCRATSARETHEWORSTEVAR!! OBAMA'S THE MOST FAILED PRESIDENT OF ALL TIMES!!!! HE'SCORRUPTANDEVILWE'REALLDOOOOMMED!!!!!"? So what if they're the only person to date who's ever thought enough about my blog to leave a comment?
It's like, "I really like what you say, it strikes a cord with me. By the way, I molest children."
Perhaps that's an extreme analogy, but when you're dealing with someone form whom the Biggest Threat to OWL (Our Way of Life) is gays marrying, well, there's not much reason you can interject into the discussion.
There's a part of me, a part that I'm finding difficult to let go of, that still believes there's something, some phrasing, some analogy, some way of illustrating the situation, some fact, that's just waiting to be said out loud, because the other party just hasn't heard it or considered it, and suddenly the lights will go on - there will be that "aha!" moment and all will be clear. I've been trying to do that with my mother for more than 40 years, and it hasn't worked yet. Sometimes the reason train runs express and doesn't stop at every station.
My first inclination, of course, is to wade into the fracas with, "but you realize Bush..." but that would immediately equate me with these very same people who responded to any criticism of George II with, "b-b-b-but Clinton..."
It doesn't matter how faulty their logic, you cannot win an "I'm rubber, you're glue" argument.
There really is no argument to win - and that's the issue. I had classes in how to argue in college. (Well, to argue anywhere, not just in college.) It was actually called Critical Reasoning and Argument. An "argument" makes a Claim, supported by Grounds and established with a Warrant. See, "reasoning" was the key. An argument was only valid when no one could refute your grounds or find fault in your warrant. We spent more than half the class covering fallacies - the ad hominem argument, the "appeal to authority," the straw man, etc. (there are scores of them) - or faulty reasoning. (or not reasoning at all.) Like all logical tests, you just have to find one instance - no matter how far-fetched - where it doesn't work to invalidate it. The grounds, or "facts," were often left to interpretation.
See, Logic doesn't tolerate hypocrisies. If it's right, it's right, if it's wrong, it's wrong. I have very little compassion for the hate-filled hearts that are white supremacists (OK, none). But I do feel poor little Adolph Hitler and Aryan Nation should be returned to their parents. It doesn't matter than some would like to see the parents beaten with pipes, the state, so far, hasn't provided adequate grounds for removing them.
Likewise, President Obama has taken an oath of the office - he's sworn to uphold, defend and protect the Constitution. It doesn't matter the exact wording used. It doesn't matter what kind of bible his hand was on, if it was on one at all, or which hand was raised. For 8 years we were told, "he was elected, he's president, suck it up, deal with it." Yet now it seems open to discussion.
There's another aphorism that goes, "you're the one who ends up stinking if you get into a fight with a skunk." The point of dictionary definition argument is to resolve conflict - to present ideas to come to agreement. There is nothing to be gained from endlessly hurling "you suck!" "no, you suck!" at each other. Put another way, what do you get when you get into an argument with an idiot? Two idiots. You'd be better arguing with the cat you just ran over that it shouldn't be dead, or with the rain that it shouldn't be falling out if the sky.
There are some, unfortunately, who revel in the slugfest. They'll hurl barbs and insults, the more outrageous and unfounded the better, for the whole point of getting you to enter into the pissing contest - but only to point out to their compatriots how "unreasonable" you're being. And that's the point of all this. Never wrestle with a pig. You both get dirty, but the pig likes it.
(I ended up replying to the thread anyway. They set the bait and I took it. I'm weak that way.)
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
it's a matter of timing, isn't it?
Hits the nail on the head. You cannot legislate behavior. (e.g Prohibition) Few refrain from killing simply because it's illegal to do so.
 clipped from raphael.doxos.com
the issue is not Pro-Abortion Laws, it is the culture that creates the need for abortion.
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Friday, January 23, 2009
It's not a ripple, it's a wake
[what follows is a reposting from the FOLIO: MedioPRO
social networking site: http://mediapro.foliomag.com/profiles/blog/list]
That was the tag line in my response to someone's question here. The question was about whether or not the current (euphemistically named) "economic downturn" was affecting our industry.
My first response was, "you don't work in this business, do you?"
In the news today was notice that McCann Erickson was laying off 3% of the company, and Playboy was essentially closing its NY production offices (“'a small number' of licensing, editorial and other publishing positions" would relocate to Chicago - the positions, mind you, not necessarily the people who currently hold them).
That was just this morning. That was just New York City.
My magazine folded and I was laid off a week before my wedding. It was, at the time, one of the better things to happen to me.* It was less than three and a half years ago.
*(Getting laid off, I mean, not the wedding. Not that getting married wasn't great - it was - it was better. Please don't show this to my wife.)
I would have been closing an issue right up until the big day. They were doing me a favor. In addition to offering me (as I remember) 3 months' severance, they gave me the option of the job I currently hold. There were a slew of freelance opportunities to be had. My choices were steady income for a little while, and the opportunity to make money on top of that, or back at work on Monday. No one faulted me for choosing the former.
It afforded me the opportunity to work at a few other, big name titles, to meet and get to know more people in the business, to see how everyone else does things. What did it teach me? 1) that I really do know what I'm doing (though I remain terribly insecure); 2) there are many people I still need to learn a lot from; and 3) this business is really small - everyone knows everyone else.
Of the people I know that do what I do, many of them are happy to be getting a regular paycheck - the ones that are getting one. People I used to freelance for are now freelancing themselves, some less than they'd like. A temp agency I once dealt with years ago at my last job (I hired one person for a few weeks who wasn't terribly talented) is now calling me monthly, in the vain hope that someone may have fallen under a bus (perish the thought!) and I might have an open position. The job posting boards that were all Production, Production and Production, long enough after I accepted my current job to make me wonder if I'd made the right choice, now only list the occasional Photo Researcher. (I had a kid on the way, and a regular check and health insurance seemed a good idea.)
Our printer laid off more than 500 people while I was at one of their plants two weeks ago. There were whole football field-sized rooms of presses not running. It is no longer a matter of performance, but of cost cutting. That's why many people like me are scared. No one wants to be rendered redundant.
Not just redundant, but irrelevant.
While freelancing, I turned my nose up at jobs that needed an "expert" with Quark 4 on Mac OS 9 - both of which I am, but who wants more experience with those skills on a résumé? Now I'm in a similar position, but on the other side of the fence. See, we just got the Adobe CS2 suite last year. Yes, CS2. And yes, CS4 is entering into the work stream now. Every tip, trick and how-to site I frequent is now rife with gushing reports on the new CS4 features, though they're still full of their mainstay CS3 solutions. Solutions, many of which, I can't use, because I don't use that version every waking minute. Once the go-to guy, the guru, the expert, now I'm the one with the disadvantaged skill set.
(I'm not even going to mention all of the software I'm getting to make my job easier that doesn't work on my OS X 10.3 system. Nope, not going to mention it at all.)
While my particular title is doing well, the company just laid off 100 people just before the holidays. As much as I've convinced everyone there's tremendous benefits to upgrading that go beyond bolstering my skill set, they've stated they have no current plans to do so.
Of course, all of this assumes we're printing anything on paper in the next 10 years. They're already talking about the "Death of the Newspaper" like they were talking about Obama being president back in October.
I'm not adverse to change. I went to school for film, got a degree in English, got a job in video post production, which turned into web production, which turned into rebuilding servers, which, naturally, lead to a job doing page layout. The universe has always pointed the way for me in the past to get me to where I am now (not too shabby, so far) so I guess I'm looking for the sign post that's going to tell me what new skills to pick up and which to drop. It's not that I don't want to move, just that all my stuff is here, and I know I can't take all of it with me (especially as I'll likely be moving to a cheaper place).
So, tell me, what's the next big thing? Better minds than mine are still climbing all over themselves trying to figure that out.
I've thought about teaching. You know, if you can't beat 'em, train 'em. I really do enjoy sharing what I know (sometimes even with people who don't care to know it). One thing there's still no shortage of is schools churning out scores of youngsters ready to apply for my job - people with no kids or mortgages who can move on to the next industry the way I used to move on to the next bar.
My dad used to have a bumper sticker that read, "Old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill." Maybe it's time I start playing dirty.
social networking site: http://mediapro.foliomag.com/profiles/blog/list]
That was the tag line in my response to someone's question here. The question was about whether or not the current (euphemistically named) "economic downturn" was affecting our industry.
My first response was, "you don't work in this business, do you?"
In the news today was notice that McCann Erickson was laying off 3% of the company, and Playboy was essentially closing its NY production offices (“'a small number' of licensing, editorial and other publishing positions" would relocate to Chicago - the positions, mind you, not necessarily the people who currently hold them).
That was just this morning. That was just New York City.
My magazine folded and I was laid off a week before my wedding. It was, at the time, one of the better things to happen to me.* It was less than three and a half years ago.
*(Getting laid off, I mean, not the wedding. Not that getting married wasn't great - it was - it was better. Please don't show this to my wife.)
I would have been closing an issue right up until the big day. They were doing me a favor. In addition to offering me (as I remember) 3 months' severance, they gave me the option of the job I currently hold. There were a slew of freelance opportunities to be had. My choices were steady income for a little while, and the opportunity to make money on top of that, or back at work on Monday. No one faulted me for choosing the former.
It afforded me the opportunity to work at a few other, big name titles, to meet and get to know more people in the business, to see how everyone else does things. What did it teach me? 1) that I really do know what I'm doing (though I remain terribly insecure); 2) there are many people I still need to learn a lot from; and 3) this business is really small - everyone knows everyone else.
Of the people I know that do what I do, many of them are happy to be getting a regular paycheck - the ones that are getting one. People I used to freelance for are now freelancing themselves, some less than they'd like. A temp agency I once dealt with years ago at my last job (I hired one person for a few weeks who wasn't terribly talented) is now calling me monthly, in the vain hope that someone may have fallen under a bus (perish the thought!) and I might have an open position. The job posting boards that were all Production, Production and Production, long enough after I accepted my current job to make me wonder if I'd made the right choice, now only list the occasional Photo Researcher. (I had a kid on the way, and a regular check and health insurance seemed a good idea.)
Our printer laid off more than 500 people while I was at one of their plants two weeks ago. There were whole football field-sized rooms of presses not running. It is no longer a matter of performance, but of cost cutting. That's why many people like me are scared. No one wants to be rendered redundant.
Not just redundant, but irrelevant.
While freelancing, I turned my nose up at jobs that needed an "expert" with Quark 4 on Mac OS 9 - both of which I am, but who wants more experience with those skills on a résumé? Now I'm in a similar position, but on the other side of the fence. See, we just got the Adobe CS2 suite last year. Yes, CS2. And yes, CS4 is entering into the work stream now. Every tip, trick and how-to site I frequent is now rife with gushing reports on the new CS4 features, though they're still full of their mainstay CS3 solutions. Solutions, many of which, I can't use, because I don't use that version every waking minute. Once the go-to guy, the guru, the expert, now I'm the one with the disadvantaged skill set.
(I'm not even going to mention all of the software I'm getting to make my job easier that doesn't work on my OS X 10.3 system. Nope, not going to mention it at all.)
While my particular title is doing well, the company just laid off 100 people just before the holidays. As much as I've convinced everyone there's tremendous benefits to upgrading that go beyond bolstering my skill set, they've stated they have no current plans to do so.
Of course, all of this assumes we're printing anything on paper in the next 10 years. They're already talking about the "Death of the Newspaper" like they were talking about Obama being president back in October.
I'm not adverse to change. I went to school for film, got a degree in English, got a job in video post production, which turned into web production, which turned into rebuilding servers, which, naturally, lead to a job doing page layout. The universe has always pointed the way for me in the past to get me to where I am now (not too shabby, so far) so I guess I'm looking for the sign post that's going to tell me what new skills to pick up and which to drop. It's not that I don't want to move, just that all my stuff is here, and I know I can't take all of it with me (especially as I'll likely be moving to a cheaper place).
So, tell me, what's the next big thing? Better minds than mine are still climbing all over themselves trying to figure that out.
I've thought about teaching. You know, if you can't beat 'em, train 'em. I really do enjoy sharing what I know (sometimes even with people who don't care to know it). One thing there's still no shortage of is schools churning out scores of youngsters ready to apply for my job - people with no kids or mortgages who can move on to the next industry the way I used to move on to the next bar.
My dad used to have a bumper sticker that read, "Old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill." Maybe it's time I start playing dirty.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
so long, and sorry about all the fish...
some of the images are pretty remarkable
 clipped from www.boston.com
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Thursday, January 15, 2009
Funny condom ad
NSFW(OBA) not safe for work (or balloon animals)
the "outtakes" are pretty funny, too
the "outtakes" are pretty funny, too
 clipped from www.boingboing.net
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The Fed helps those who help themselves (to your money)
Why can we so readily approve giving away public funds (at a deficit, with no tax base to recover them) to banks and brokerage firms, but we have a hard time allocating money for regular Americans with genuine need?
I don't wish to debate the wisdom of helping the most wealthy out of a situation their own greed created, because they're "too big to fail." I believe business runs on access to available credit, and credit markets need to be relieved.
But if we all agree that the economy thrives when money changes hands, does it make better sense to bail out a corporation so they can cut their losses, bolster their profit, so stockholders have value in their holdings (emphasis on "holding"), or to give the money to people who will actually spend it?
I don't mean the stereotypically irresponsible things like flatscreens and Nintendo Wii's (I believe the huge corporate retail chains like Walmart will endure). But if instead of giving insurer AIG some $80 billion to keep them afloat, we floated some of those funds to people who've been most impacted by the economy, they could afford things - things like health insurance - and give companies that provide goods and services their much needed capital.
Now I'm going to speculate. (You may want to get your tinfoil hat.) Why can't we do this? You're still going to buy that flatscreen and latest-model iPod, aren't you? (if you're a good American, and do what you're told, you're going to go out and shop to help the economy.) But without available cash, you're going to buy them on credit. And for that, the banks make money, in the form of interest.
On the other hand, it's been shown that many people, with large consumer debt, given the funds would choose to lower their debit position. (e.g. pay off some of their credit cards.) This is good for consumers - it lowers their unsecured debt, lowers their interest payments, and gives them more funds to save, if only for that new iPod.
It is, however, bad news for a bank. It lowers their interest income and reduces their assets. Yes, the money you owe them is an asset. It is only "unsecured" to you, in that you don't have an asset (e.g. a house) to offset the debt. Recent changes in bankruptcy laws mean the bank will get its money, somehow. There is no risk that the poor, defenseless bank, who was only trying to help everyone it could by extending them all ridiculous amounts of credit, even to those evil cheats who lied about the stability of their employment, would get left twisting in the wind.
And if you don't get your own, personal infusion of bailout cash - if you can no longer pay your bills - even better for the bank. They now get to charge usury... I mean, the default interest rate, meaning it's going to cost you more money to not have any.
(You can take your hat off now. If the above made sense, then it was working.)
[the following text is stolen from TrueMajority.org]
The U.S. faces the most serious economic crisis since the Great Depression. Just how deep we go and how long the recession lasts depends upon how quickly we take steps to counter it.
The economy is hemorrhaging jobs at a frightful rate. For all of 2008, the economy lost a net total of 2.6 million jobs. That was the most since 1945, when nearly 2.8 million jobs were lost.
More than 300 of the country’s leading economists have called for immediate passage of a significant and broad-based jobs and economic recovery package.
A package must include investments in alternative energy technology to create millions of new jobs and generate billions in public revenue and tackle the issue of climate change and reduce our dependence on foreign oil.
We must also provide grants to state and local governments so that they will not be forced to raise taxes, layoff workers and cut services in the middle of a downturn.
Finally, we need investments in public infrastructure that will provide a crucial shot in the arm for the economy and create hundreds of thousands of good paying jobs to strengthen our middle class.
I don't wish to debate the wisdom of helping the most wealthy out of a situation their own greed created, because they're "too big to fail." I believe business runs on access to available credit, and credit markets need to be relieved.
But if we all agree that the economy thrives when money changes hands, does it make better sense to bail out a corporation so they can cut their losses, bolster their profit, so stockholders have value in their holdings (emphasis on "holding"), or to give the money to people who will actually spend it?
I don't mean the stereotypically irresponsible things like flatscreens and Nintendo Wii's (I believe the huge corporate retail chains like Walmart will endure). But if instead of giving insurer AIG some $80 billion to keep them afloat, we floated some of those funds to people who've been most impacted by the economy, they could afford things - things like health insurance - and give companies that provide goods and services their much needed capital.
Now I'm going to speculate. (You may want to get your tinfoil hat.) Why can't we do this? You're still going to buy that flatscreen and latest-model iPod, aren't you? (if you're a good American, and do what you're told, you're going to go out and shop to help the economy.) But without available cash, you're going to buy them on credit. And for that, the banks make money, in the form of interest.
On the other hand, it's been shown that many people, with large consumer debt, given the funds would choose to lower their debit position. (e.g. pay off some of their credit cards.) This is good for consumers - it lowers their unsecured debt, lowers their interest payments, and gives them more funds to save, if only for that new iPod.
It is, however, bad news for a bank. It lowers their interest income and reduces their assets. Yes, the money you owe them is an asset. It is only "unsecured" to you, in that you don't have an asset (e.g. a house) to offset the debt. Recent changes in bankruptcy laws mean the bank will get its money, somehow. There is no risk that the poor, defenseless bank, who was only trying to help everyone it could by extending them all ridiculous amounts of credit, even to those evil cheats who lied about the stability of their employment, would get left twisting in the wind.
And if you don't get your own, personal infusion of bailout cash - if you can no longer pay your bills - even better for the bank. They now get to charge usury... I mean, the default interest rate, meaning it's going to cost you more money to not have any.
(You can take your hat off now. If the above made sense, then it was working.)
[the following text is stolen from TrueMajority.org]
The U.S. faces the most serious economic crisis since the Great Depression. Just how deep we go and how long the recession lasts depends upon how quickly we take steps to counter it.
The economy is hemorrhaging jobs at a frightful rate. For all of 2008, the economy lost a net total of 2.6 million jobs. That was the most since 1945, when nearly 2.8 million jobs were lost.
More than 300 of the country’s leading economists have called for immediate passage of a significant and broad-based jobs and economic recovery package.
A package must include investments in alternative energy technology to create millions of new jobs and generate billions in public revenue and tackle the issue of climate change and reduce our dependence on foreign oil.
We must also provide grants to state and local governments so that they will not be forced to raise taxes, layoff workers and cut services in the middle of a downturn.
Finally, we need investments in public infrastructure that will provide a crucial shot in the arm for the economy and create hundreds of thousands of good paying jobs to strengthen our middle class.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Lonely teen? Kill yourself - it's your only option, and it's funny, says Pepsi
For everyone horrified by the new Pepsi ads, everyone who's had a personal experience with suicide and is sickened by it, there's some yahoo saying, "it's just an ad, relax, it's funny."
Personally, I'm not so distraught by the idea, let alone graphical representation, of a cartoon blob killing itself, than I am by the belief that it's a fait accompli that's what you do when you're lonely. Not a smart message for the product's target demographic.
Personally, I'm not so distraught by the idea, let alone graphical representation, of a cartoon blob killing itself, than I am by the belief that it's a fait accompli that's what you do when you're lonely. Not a smart message for the product's target demographic.
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People keep commenting how beautiful the Pepsi ad illustrations are, as if that mitigates the offense. It's like saying, "she killed her boyfriend, but she's gorgeous".
http://www.cloudoutloud.tv/2008/12/pepsi-suicide-ad-is-boring-in-a-disturbing-way/– Michelle McCormack | Boston, MA
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Air Fair 3: Return to the Ticket Counter
How was flying again? In a word: AAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!!
That's not a word? How about this word: motherfucker.
Technically two words, but Merriam Webster says it's one, defining it as a "generalized term of abuse."
To give you an idea, I started writing this before most of it happened. The more I typed, it seemed the worse it got.
Due to time constraints, I can't be so free with the airline or price this time. There's not a whole lot that doesn't leave too early the day before (the latest was at 7, I was working until 10) or arrive too late in the day the next day. A lot of those not only left obscenely early - 6-7 am - but had up to 4(!) hour layovers. (Flying due east to Wisconsin? You won't mind a 3-hour stop in Georgia - because it's on the way. You can walk around outside, in your winter coat.)
Have you ever flown before? On a plane? Ever watch with irritated bemusement when they start boarding, calling first class and people with special needs (same thing, I know), and some twitchy fuckers with refrigerator dollies for luggage crowd around the gate, like it's the Wyoming land rush and someone's suddenly going to yell, "go!" and they can race for the best seat - a seat which was assigned before they go there. They crowd right up to the rope, with postures that scream, "me? me now? now? me?" because they might call the rows in alphabetical instead of numerical order.
This may actually be the case now. See, I figured I'd be smart this time (ha!) and not opt for the middle seat near the front, nor over the wing, next to the engine. No, I grabbed the completely empty (at the time) row at the back of the plane (a little ways from the lavatory, of course). I should be in the first group to board. I print out my boarding passes, which have a big number "4" on them.
Apparently United - whom I've now flown for the last time (or at least attempted to, read on) - shuffles everybody around, and boards by these numbers which, as far as I could tell, don't correspond to anything. People who boarded with the 1's were sitting near me, and some other 4's were sitting near the front. If it works for them, so be it. Just bolloxes up my cunning plan.
I can still hear George Carlin voicing over my son's Thomas the Tank Engine DVD's: "Then, there was trouble."
Seems there's a hydraulic problem with one of the wings. (Don't hydraulics have to do with water? If we're flying in the air, why is this a problem?) By 6:30 (6 am departure, been there since 5, up since 3:30) I'm waiting in the (now) long line at the gate, trying to get rebooked so I can make it to Chez Cheese before my press runs, if not my connecting flight.
Verizon is connecting me to United customer (dis)service - or so they say, before hanging up on me. I manage to get through, and button mash my way to an agent. Let's just say that my company's java-laiden flight booker in my old browser on my older system works faster than this guy. Turns out there's not so many flights - at least on United
He tells me the next flight out doesn't leave until 8:30. The next connecting flight gets me in at 2:30 - which, accounting for time zones is really 3:30. There were other flights, direct or connecting through other cities that would have gotten me there earlier, but they all leave around 6, so they're gone now. How terribly efficient.
When I tell him to book me a flight on another airline, he tells me, "that's not possible." Never mind that I can hear the gate agent booking people on Continental.
The pilot had said he didn't expect the issue to be solved for at least another 45 minutes at the earliest, and that it didn't look good. Chucklehead on the phone says, "it looks here like your flight is scheduled to depart at 7:15 (riiiight), so perhaps that's your best bet." I wouldn't make my scheduled connection, but I'm booked on the flight after, which is still early enough.
Are there still seats available on the 8:30? Oh, yes, he says, plenty of seats. "Plenty" of seats? Or "a lot" of seats? "I'm showing a lot of seats still open." I figure I can rebook if I have to if the plane isn't fixed presently.
...which, of course, is as soon as I get off the phone. Everyone get your stuff, we're deplaning now. (and now I have Hervé Villechaize in my head again.)
Oh, and that 8:30? Now sold out.
Don't feel sorry for me. There were a lot of kids on this plane. The mere ordeal of flying was already causing some of them to melt down. This kind of stuff is torture to them. One child, who couldn't have been more than a few weeks old, was managing to sleep through it all. Pity her parents, who have to lug around all the stuff that comes with traveling with children. If you think it's hard to go through this, go through this with children who're going through it, too.
One thing did manage to brighten my morning. A cute little tyke, jumping up and down and squealing a happy squeal in the carrier her mom wore over her chest. I smiled. I caught her mother's eye and said, "I love kids."
Surprised, she said, "you do?"
"Yes," I said, "they're delicious."
Waiting in line again, I get on the phone with my corporate travel office - which is only open during business hours (it's 7 am on Saturday). Still, I get through to someone. They rebook me on a Midwest flight (official airline of the Milwaukee Brewers, thank you very much, and that cookie they serve during the flight - mmm...), leaving around 11:30, but still getting in just under the wire. I'm told to have the United gate agent print me a ticket. The agent, after waving his hands that he didn't rebook it so he can't verify that I have a seat, blah, blah, he prints out what looks like a ticket and a receipt. He then tears up my original boarding passes, so now this is the only proof I have that I've paid for any flight at all.
It was not a boarding pass, which I thought, but which the TSA agent kindly informed me. I need to check in at the ticket counter. (This is why I check in online and print my boarding passes.)
Only there's no one at the ticket counter. First, the Midwest counter is at the complete, opposite end of the terminal - the very last one, in fact. And it's closed. (Why would it be open? They don't have any planes leaving for hours yet.) And while even AirTran has dozens of self-serv kiosks, Midwest has one, sad, unattended counter. So I get to start writing this post, for an hour, before it's staffed again.
"Then, there was trouble."
Turns out the paper I have isn't a boarding pass, nor is it a ticket. It's got a whole bunch of numbers and codes on it that say, "he was ours, he's your problem now." The agent tells me I need a ticket to check in. So she sends me over to the United counter - at the other end of the terminal - to get a ticket.
This counter is staffed - though the staff insist I can use the self-serv kiosk. I'm belligerent enough that they take a look at my stuff, and they can't understand why the gate agent didn't print the ticket out. Here you go, no problem.
Back to the Midwest counter.
"Then, there was trouble."
The agent says she can't give me a boarding pass, because she needs to attach it to a ticket. Now, I just handed her what looked and felt like an airline ticket, and it was stapled to my other paperwork, so I'm befuddled.
See, there's a ticket number, but at the top it says, "e-ticket." Apparently this means it ceases to be made of paper. And, being electronic, you can't actually staple a boarding pass... to the paper... with "e-ticket" written on it.
I consider suggesting writing "put me on a friggin' plane, you dolt" across the top, but deign to listen to her tell me it's the system that won't allow her to do it.
So she sends me back to the United counter.
At the other end of the terminal.
Still carrying my bags.
The United staff share my "are you a freakin' idiot?" moment and write me a "do this" note to take back.
Now I can has barding pasz. One with "SSSS" written all over it. It apparently stands for "Super Secret Special Screening." Because, before, when I booked my flight myself, I was OK. But now that they've canceled my flight and I've been standing around the airport for hours, now I'm a security risk. I've been through security once already, and I haven't left the airport, but now I might be carrying a bomb.
Which, come to think of it, doesn't seem that far fetched. Though I'd be more inclined to bomb the useless plane I kicked off than the one that might actually take me where I'm going. I just hope they don't put the toddlers through this.
(I should note that the very polite gentleman who checked all my stuff, explaining that it's common to be "selected" in cases of canceled flights, who was using his high tech gadgets to detect microscopic traces of explosive components on my laptop, was a bit awestruck at the discovery of my Bluetooth headset. He hadn't seen anything like it before. Way to keep up with technology.)
It's OK. I've got nothing on me that would warrant a FBCS (figure it out). And I've got hours before my plane leaves. Take your time. I should be able to get to the press just in time.
(I'll point out that I got to the press, went to my hotel, finished writing most of this, watched a movie, went to bed... and then went to approve the color on press, 11 hours later. Again, don't feel bad for me. I keep thinking about my 2-yr-old son, who woke up looking for daddy. When he told me on the phone, "I want to go to the airport, too," he still could have.)
The Midwest ticket agent asked me if I would be willing to accept sitting in an exit row ("sorry, that's all I have available") - oh, hell yeah. "Willing to accept" extra legroom? Are you kidding?
Except when you're sitting next to someone who's booked the exit row because they need the extra room. The shoulders of the linebacker sitting next to me extended into my headrest. I spent the trip leaning out into the aisle.
Still, I managed to sleep. Except for when I kept getting hit by the drink trolly.
That cookie was pretty good.
That's not a word? How about this word: motherfucker.
Technically two words, but Merriam Webster says it's one, defining it as a "generalized term of abuse."
To give you an idea, I started writing this before most of it happened. The more I typed, it seemed the worse it got.
Due to time constraints, I can't be so free with the airline or price this time. There's not a whole lot that doesn't leave too early the day before (the latest was at 7, I was working until 10) or arrive too late in the day the next day. A lot of those not only left obscenely early - 6-7 am - but had up to 4(!) hour layovers. (Flying due east to Wisconsin? You won't mind a 3-hour stop in Georgia - because it's on the way. You can walk around outside, in your winter coat.)
Have you ever flown before? On a plane? Ever watch with irritated bemusement when they start boarding, calling first class and people with special needs (same thing, I know), and some twitchy fuckers with refrigerator dollies for luggage crowd around the gate, like it's the Wyoming land rush and someone's suddenly going to yell, "go!" and they can race for the best seat - a seat which was assigned before they go there. They crowd right up to the rope, with postures that scream, "me? me now? now? me?" because they might call the rows in alphabetical instead of numerical order.
This may actually be the case now. See, I figured I'd be smart this time (ha!) and not opt for the middle seat near the front, nor over the wing, next to the engine. No, I grabbed the completely empty (at the time) row at the back of the plane (a little ways from the lavatory, of course). I should be in the first group to board. I print out my boarding passes, which have a big number "4" on them.
Apparently United - whom I've now flown for the last time (or at least attempted to, read on) - shuffles everybody around, and boards by these numbers which, as far as I could tell, don't correspond to anything. People who boarded with the 1's were sitting near me, and some other 4's were sitting near the front. If it works for them, so be it. Just bolloxes up my cunning plan.
I can still hear George Carlin voicing over my son's Thomas the Tank Engine DVD's: "Then, there was trouble."
Seems there's a hydraulic problem with one of the wings. (Don't hydraulics have to do with water? If we're flying in the air, why is this a problem?) By 6:30 (6 am departure, been there since 5, up since 3:30) I'm waiting in the (now) long line at the gate, trying to get rebooked so I can make it to Chez Cheese before my press runs, if not my connecting flight.
Verizon is connecting me to United customer (dis)service - or so they say, before hanging up on me. I manage to get through, and button mash my way to an agent. Let's just say that my company's java-laiden flight booker in my old browser on my older system works faster than this guy. Turns out there's not so many flights - at least on United
He tells me the next flight out doesn't leave until 8:30. The next connecting flight gets me in at 2:30 - which, accounting for time zones is really 3:30. There were other flights, direct or connecting through other cities that would have gotten me there earlier, but they all leave around 6, so they're gone now. How terribly efficient.
When I tell him to book me a flight on another airline, he tells me, "that's not possible." Never mind that I can hear the gate agent booking people on Continental.
The pilot had said he didn't expect the issue to be solved for at least another 45 minutes at the earliest, and that it didn't look good. Chucklehead on the phone says, "it looks here like your flight is scheduled to depart at 7:15 (riiiight), so perhaps that's your best bet." I wouldn't make my scheduled connection, but I'm booked on the flight after, which is still early enough.
Are there still seats available on the 8:30? Oh, yes, he says, plenty of seats. "Plenty" of seats? Or "a lot" of seats? "I'm showing a lot of seats still open." I figure I can rebook if I have to if the plane isn't fixed presently.
...which, of course, is as soon as I get off the phone. Everyone get your stuff, we're deplaning now. (and now I have Hervé Villechaize in my head again.)
Oh, and that 8:30? Now sold out.
Don't feel sorry for me. There were a lot of kids on this plane. The mere ordeal of flying was already causing some of them to melt down. This kind of stuff is torture to them. One child, who couldn't have been more than a few weeks old, was managing to sleep through it all. Pity her parents, who have to lug around all the stuff that comes with traveling with children. If you think it's hard to go through this, go through this with children who're going through it, too.
One thing did manage to brighten my morning. A cute little tyke, jumping up and down and squealing a happy squeal in the carrier her mom wore over her chest. I smiled. I caught her mother's eye and said, "I love kids."
Surprised, she said, "you do?"
"Yes," I said, "they're delicious."
Waiting in line again, I get on the phone with my corporate travel office - which is only open during business hours (it's 7 am on Saturday). Still, I get through to someone. They rebook me on a Midwest flight (official airline of the Milwaukee Brewers, thank you very much, and that cookie they serve during the flight - mmm...), leaving around 11:30, but still getting in just under the wire. I'm told to have the United gate agent print me a ticket. The agent, after waving his hands that he didn't rebook it so he can't verify that I have a seat, blah, blah, he prints out what looks like a ticket and a receipt. He then tears up my original boarding passes, so now this is the only proof I have that I've paid for any flight at all.
It was not a boarding pass, which I thought, but which the TSA agent kindly informed me. I need to check in at the ticket counter. (This is why I check in online and print my boarding passes.)
Only there's no one at the ticket counter. First, the Midwest counter is at the complete, opposite end of the terminal - the very last one, in fact. And it's closed. (Why would it be open? They don't have any planes leaving for hours yet.) And while even AirTran has dozens of self-serv kiosks, Midwest has one, sad, unattended counter. So I get to start writing this post, for an hour, before it's staffed again.
"Then, there was trouble."
Turns out the paper I have isn't a boarding pass, nor is it a ticket. It's got a whole bunch of numbers and codes on it that say, "he was ours, he's your problem now." The agent tells me I need a ticket to check in. So she sends me over to the United counter - at the other end of the terminal - to get a ticket.
This counter is staffed - though the staff insist I can use the self-serv kiosk. I'm belligerent enough that they take a look at my stuff, and they can't understand why the gate agent didn't print the ticket out. Here you go, no problem.
Back to the Midwest counter.
"Then, there was trouble."
The agent says she can't give me a boarding pass, because she needs to attach it to a ticket. Now, I just handed her what looked and felt like an airline ticket, and it was stapled to my other paperwork, so I'm befuddled.
See, there's a ticket number, but at the top it says, "e-ticket." Apparently this means it ceases to be made of paper. And, being electronic, you can't actually staple a boarding pass... to the paper... with "e-ticket" written on it.
I consider suggesting writing "put me on a friggin' plane, you dolt" across the top, but deign to listen to her tell me it's the system that won't allow her to do it.
So she sends me back to the United counter.
At the other end of the terminal.
Still carrying my bags.
The United staff share my "are you a freakin' idiot?" moment and write me a "do this" note to take back.
Now I can has barding pasz. One with "SSSS" written all over it. It apparently stands for "Super Secret Special Screening." Because, before, when I booked my flight myself, I was OK. But now that they've canceled my flight and I've been standing around the airport for hours, now I'm a security risk. I've been through security once already, and I haven't left the airport, but now I might be carrying a bomb.
Which, come to think of it, doesn't seem that far fetched. Though I'd be more inclined to bomb the useless plane I kicked off than the one that might actually take me where I'm going. I just hope they don't put the toddlers through this.
(I should note that the very polite gentleman who checked all my stuff, explaining that it's common to be "selected" in cases of canceled flights, who was using his high tech gadgets to detect microscopic traces of explosive components on my laptop, was a bit awestruck at the discovery of my Bluetooth headset. He hadn't seen anything like it before. Way to keep up with technology.)
It's OK. I've got nothing on me that would warrant a FBCS (figure it out). And I've got hours before my plane leaves. Take your time. I should be able to get to the press just in time.
(I'll point out that I got to the press, went to my hotel, finished writing most of this, watched a movie, went to bed... and then went to approve the color on press, 11 hours later. Again, don't feel bad for me. I keep thinking about my 2-yr-old son, who woke up looking for daddy. When he told me on the phone, "I want to go to the airport, too," he still could have.)
The Midwest ticket agent asked me if I would be willing to accept sitting in an exit row ("sorry, that's all I have available") - oh, hell yeah. "Willing to accept" extra legroom? Are you kidding?
Except when you're sitting next to someone who's booked the exit row because they need the extra room. The shoulders of the linebacker sitting next to me extended into my headrest. I spent the trip leaning out into the aisle.
Still, I managed to sleep. Except for when I kept getting hit by the drink trolly.
That cookie was pretty good.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Hammer time: US citizen security threatened by insecure "secure" passports
I am so taking a hammer to mine... when I eventually get around to renewing it.
 clipped from www.boingboing.net
Outsourced passports netting govt. profits, risking national security
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Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Commies are Pink, Herrings are Red; Republicans stink, you heard what I said
"Patriotism is supporting your country all of the time, and your government when it deserves it." - Samuel Clemens
Last week, Gov. Sarah Palin and Rep. Michele Bachmann accused progressives of not being "real Americans."
This week, conservatives have decided to brand progressives as "Communists," "Socialists," "Marxists" and "Redistributors" for supporting tax policies that help middle-class families.
We’ve had enough.
http://www.iamproamerica.com
We believe that in difficult times, it's been Progressive leadership that has put our country back on track.
We believe that we can rebuild our economy in a way that helps every American - not just the richest.
We believe that health care is a right, not a privilege.
We believe that we can build an education system that truly leaves no child behind.
We believe in the American Dream.
I am Pro-America. I am Progressive.
http://www.iamproamerica.com
Friday, October 24, 2008
EULA-sive signal: there's no such thing as a free wi-fi
Like every other person with a laptop, I'm trying to get some work done while I wait for my plane. (real work, not this blog.) That work requires internet access. Like every other traveler who travels infrequently enough to not warrant a wireless broadband card, I'm lamenting having to pay through the nose for the same wi-fi access I can get free with a cup of coffee, or by merely sitting in the park.
The service is provided by Boingo. My choices are $5 for one hour, or $8 for 24 hours. The later would seem a bargain, if you expect to be waiting a while or, like me, will have a layover in Detroit for an hour and a half (see below). But wait! For $9.95* you can get service for a whole month! (* for 3 months, after which it's $22/month.)
These are called "teaser rates" (yes, like the one on your mortgage) or a form of low-balling. Low-balling is a sales technique where they get you to agree to a low price, so you start to consider the item yours already, then they raise the price, sometimes incrementally, a little at a time. Emotionally you want the item, and you (in your mind) have already made it yours, so a couple bucks more isn't going to dissuade you from your purchase - you're a fish on a hook now, and you're not going to walk away.
This is a typical car dealer tactic - they "cut" the sticker price, for you, 'cus you're nice, and they really want to sell it, and you really want to buy it, right? As you sit down to sign the paperwork, the sales person steps out tohave a cigarette "talk to his boss," who unfortunately tells him he "can't sell it at that price," but "let's see what we can do." Then back out for some coffee to haggle with the boss, on your behalf, and they "come to a compromise" on the price - which is a lot more than you agreed to pay.
Then they start tacking on the "extras," or stuff you thought came with the car because, you know, it's on the one you looked at. ("Oh, no, that one sells for the sticker price. The price you agreed to is for a different car - one without a radio.")
Teasers are not like Leaders, which are sometimes ridiculously low prices, just to get you interested in buying something enough to get you into the store. Because if Leaders are like the price for regular gas (87 octane), then Teasers are Super (89), as compared to Premium (91), or the price of a medium soda at the theater (there is no small, so what's it in the middle of?) compared to the large. The difference in price is nominal, so since you've mentally agreed to the price point, why not get the much better/bigger item? Why buy 16 oz. of crap your body doesn't want or need (for half the price of the ticket), when "for just .35¢ more" you can have 32 oz? You're going to get your money's worth, dammit. (and do the peepee dance all through the third act of the film, because you have a 28 oz. bladder.)
I'm in an airport at most 2 times, every other month - usually much less. (And I usually plan it so I'm waiting less than an hour.) If I wanted unlimited wireless internet access for, say, my phone, it wouldn't cost me $22/month. This is for the desperate, not those with legitimate need.
But as it's only $10/month for the first 3, perhaps I can just sign up, then cancel. Canceling should be easy, right?
From the End User License Agreement:
So, you have to request a cancellation before the subscription ends, but you're not actually allowed to cancel it at that time. This, I suspect, is what ropes people into fraudulently-named "free" credit reports and Girls Gone Wild videos. See, you have to make the request in writing. Their address is prominently displayed - at the bottom of the EULA, which you can see while you're inside any airport they service.
(My plane boarded rather soon after, so all ended up doing was starting to write this post.)
On to the layover in Detroit. After deplaning (and I always hear Hervé Villachaize saying that), I find out my connecting flight is the same friggin' plane I was just on. Though my stuff is safer with me than alone with the cleaning crew, I'm lugging it around the terminal now. One moving walkway away, I notice the Online Cafe, with people with laptops and little terminals at some of the booths. Perfect - I really do need to touch base with the office.
Ordering [second] breakfast, I'm now a paying customer of the Online Cafe. "I can has free wi-fi nau?" "No, not yours." It's $5 for 15 minutes (because who sits and eats longer than that?), but for only a few dollars more you get it for longer than you plan on being there. Fabulous. I'm expensing it, anyway.
(And I really did appreciate the waitress, very discreetly at the top of her lungs, announcing my login and password to the rest of the terminal. I'm the only one authorized to use it, so it's safe.)
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
The service is provided by Boingo. My choices are $5 for one hour, or $8 for 24 hours. The later would seem a bargain, if you expect to be waiting a while or, like me, will have a layover in Detroit for an hour and a half (see below). But wait! For $9.95* you can get service for a whole month! (* for 3 months, after which it's $22/month.)
These are called "teaser rates" (yes, like the one on your mortgage) or a form of low-balling. Low-balling is a sales technique where they get you to agree to a low price, so you start to consider the item yours already, then they raise the price, sometimes incrementally, a little at a time. Emotionally you want the item, and you (in your mind) have already made it yours, so a couple bucks more isn't going to dissuade you from your purchase - you're a fish on a hook now, and you're not going to walk away.
This is a typical car dealer tactic - they "cut" the sticker price, for you, 'cus you're nice, and they really want to sell it, and you really want to buy it, right? As you sit down to sign the paperwork, the sales person steps out to
Then they start tacking on the "extras," or stuff you thought came with the car because, you know, it's on the one you looked at. ("Oh, no, that one sells for the sticker price. The price you agreed to is for a different car - one without a radio.")
Teasers are not like Leaders, which are sometimes ridiculously low prices, just to get you interested in buying something enough to get you into the store. Because if Leaders are like the price for regular gas (87 octane), then Teasers are Super (89), as compared to Premium (91), or the price of a medium soda at the theater (there is no small, so what's it in the middle of?) compared to the large. The difference in price is nominal, so since you've mentally agreed to the price point, why not get the much better/bigger item? Why buy 16 oz. of crap your body doesn't want or need (for half the price of the ticket), when "for just .35¢ more" you can have 32 oz? You're going to get your money's worth, dammit. (and do the peepee dance all through the third act of the film, because you have a 28 oz. bladder.)
I'm in an airport at most 2 times, every other month - usually much less. (And I usually plan it so I'm waiting less than an hour.) If I wanted unlimited wireless internet access for, say, my phone, it wouldn't cost me $22/month. This is for the desperate, not those with legitimate need.
But as it's only $10/month for the first 3, perhaps I can just sign up, then cancel. Canceling should be easy, right?
From the End User License Agreement:
Can I cancel my subscription?
1. Once your order is finalised, you cannot cancel it before the end of the subscription period you have requested, unless our service is not in accordance with this Agreement and that entitles you under normal legal rules to terminate your order.
2. You can prevent your subscription automatically renewing for a further period by notifying us before your present subscription ends in accordance with clause 15.1. [emphasis mine]
So, you have to request a cancellation before the subscription ends, but you're not actually allowed to cancel it at that time. This, I suspect, is what ropes people into fraudulently-named "free" credit reports and Girls Gone Wild videos. See, you have to make the request in writing. Their address is prominently displayed - at the bottom of the EULA, which you can see while you're inside any airport they service.
(My plane boarded rather soon after, so all ended up doing was starting to write this post.)
On to the layover in Detroit. After deplaning (and I always hear Hervé Villachaize saying that), I find out my connecting flight is the same friggin' plane I was just on. Though my stuff is safer with me than alone with the cleaning crew, I'm lugging it around the terminal now. One moving walkway away, I notice the Online Cafe, with people with laptops and little terminals at some of the booths. Perfect - I really do need to touch base with the office.
Ordering [second] breakfast, I'm now a paying customer of the Online Cafe. "I can has free wi-fi nau?" "No, not yours." It's $5 for 15 minutes (because who sits and eats longer than that?), but for only a few dollars more you get it for longer than you plan on being there. Fabulous. I'm expensing it, anyway.
(And I really did appreciate the waitress, very discreetly at the top of her lungs, announcing my login and password to the rest of the terminal. I'm the only one authorized to use it, so it's safe.)
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
Air Fair 2: Dyspeptic Bugaboo - TSA rules hard to swallow
I'm a fan of BoingBoing.net. They have several ongoing threads regarding the current state of the Security Theater™ under the oppression of which we now live. Among the heart-rending stories of children being forcibly removed from planes and grandmothers being accused of paedophilia for taking pictures of empty playgrounds, are numerous stories about the malfeasance that is the TSA. One of the more recent is the TSA employee who managed to walk out of Newark "Liberty" (ha!) International with a couple hundred thousand dollars of high-end electronics (cameras, laptops, GPS's) from passengers' bags over the course of (at least) several months, with not even the TSA noticing.
So, I'm flying out of Newark this trip. Didn't have any issues this time (unlike others, see below). I even went through with the Swiss Army nail clipper that I had meant to take out of my bag. (it doesn't have a knife, but the nail file is rather pointy. and then there's that miniature screw driver...) After reading all the stories of people having things like nail clippers confiscated, I was surprised to find it there later. Either they're allowing people to trim their nails on planes now, or they just didn't notice. Past experience would suggest the later, but since they did find the two 1 oz. bottles of shampoo and conditioner I saved from the hotel's refuse on the return trip, I have to assume they saw it and let it go.
Do you know what else they're apparently allowing on planes now? Knitting needles.
Knitting fucking needles.
Yeah, I know, you can't really see them in the shot, but trust me, that old lady was pearling two while I was trying to surreptitiously snap a pic with my phone. I was wary of being frog marched off the plane for the "suspicious act" of taking a picture. Because only terrorists use cameras and only little old ladies use 8-inch metal spikes. On planes.
They're apparently also exempt from the "please put all carry-on items under the seat in front of you" rule. You put the loose stuff that's not tied down under the seat so that it doesn't fly across the plane in an accident. The damage you'd take from the "rapid deceleration trauma" of the plane suddenly meeting concrete isn't made any better by metal spikes suddenly meeting the back of your head.
(I probably would have let it go in this case, too, as where she was sitting they would likely only fly through first class.)
Bruce Schneier [Schneier.com] is my hero. I've read many articles and blog posts written by him in the realm of computer security. His expertise is not limited to mere computers but encompasses Security in general. He should be granted sainthood. He contributed to an Atlantic Monthly article recently ["The Things He Carried"] which showed just how easily airport security [theater] can be circumvented. If you think a bunch of near minimum wage, marginally educated, authority abusing, blue-shirted baggage [mis]handlers are keeping you safer, you need to read this article.
And if you think it the height of irresponsibility to show just how easy it is to create a fake boarding pass, walk right around things like no-fly lists, with prohibited items in your pockets, consider this: I used to share your opinion.
I once considered it morally and ethically reprehensible that someone would publish ways of circumventing the things that keep us safer. A number of things changed my mind. One, of course, was Mr. Schneier. Another was the book Little Brother by BoingBoing contributer Cory Doctorow. They caused me to see the instructions on how to defeat most padlocks with a soda can in a new light.
You buy locks to keep your things yours. You now know that a great many people know how to walk right through that lock like it's not there. After you get over the initial fear that nothing is safe anymore, you go out and buy a new, functional lock. And that makes you safer.
My mother lives in a "gated" community. I say that in quotes because the "gate" is operated by people who are not working for the TSA, for what ever reason, and can be walked right around - and frequently is. When you pull up and say, "hi, I'm here to see my mom," they ask, "do you have the number?" being too lazy to look it up. (I'm only assuming laziness - there could be other reasons they might not be willing or able to discern the numbers and their order in a book.)
"Sure," I say, "it's [my wife's cell phone number]." My wife, sitting next to me, answers the ringing phone in her hand when the "guard" calls and says, "OK, let them in."
Did I harm anyone (besides the gate operator's feelings)? Did I point out a flaw in the system? If you live there, do you feel safer knowing this? Do you really think no one of criminal intent has already found - and possibly already exploited - this flaw? Should you chastise me for pointing it out to everyone (put the keyboard down, mom) or should you find a way to fix it?
Not only are the TSA's rules seemingly arbitrary, they're capriciously enforced. (big "DUH!" if you've flown recently.)
So, I'm flying out of Newark this trip. Didn't have any issues this time (unlike others, see below). I even went through with the Swiss Army nail clipper that I had meant to take out of my bag. (it doesn't have a knife, but the nail file is rather pointy. and then there's that miniature screw driver...) After reading all the stories of people having things like nail clippers confiscated, I was surprised to find it there later. Either they're allowing people to trim their nails on planes now, or they just didn't notice. Past experience would suggest the later, but since they did find the two 1 oz. bottles of shampoo and conditioner I saved from the hotel's refuse on the return trip, I have to assume they saw it and let it go.
Do you know what else they're apparently allowing on planes now? Knitting needles.
Knitting fucking needles.
Yeah, I know, you can't really see them in the shot, but trust me, that old lady was pearling two while I was trying to surreptitiously snap a pic with my phone. I was wary of being frog marched off the plane for the "suspicious act" of taking a picture. Because only terrorists use cameras and only little old ladies use 8-inch metal spikes. On planes.
They're apparently also exempt from the "please put all carry-on items under the seat in front of you" rule. You put the loose stuff that's not tied down under the seat so that it doesn't fly across the plane in an accident. The damage you'd take from the "rapid deceleration trauma" of the plane suddenly meeting concrete isn't made any better by metal spikes suddenly meeting the back of your head.
(I probably would have let it go in this case, too, as where she was sitting they would likely only fly through first class.)
Bruce Schneier [Schneier.com] is my hero. I've read many articles and blog posts written by him in the realm of computer security. His expertise is not limited to mere computers but encompasses Security in general. He should be granted sainthood. He contributed to an Atlantic Monthly article recently ["The Things He Carried"] which showed just how easily airport security [theater] can be circumvented. If you think a bunch of near minimum wage, marginally educated, authority abusing, blue-shirted baggage [mis]handlers are keeping you safer, you need to read this article.
And if you think it the height of irresponsibility to show just how easy it is to create a fake boarding pass, walk right around things like no-fly lists, with prohibited items in your pockets, consider this: I used to share your opinion.
I once considered it morally and ethically reprehensible that someone would publish ways of circumventing the things that keep us safer. A number of things changed my mind. One, of course, was Mr. Schneier. Another was the book Little Brother by BoingBoing contributer Cory Doctorow. They caused me to see the instructions on how to defeat most padlocks with a soda can in a new light.
You buy locks to keep your things yours. You now know that a great many people know how to walk right through that lock like it's not there. After you get over the initial fear that nothing is safe anymore, you go out and buy a new, functional lock. And that makes you safer.
My mother lives in a "gated" community. I say that in quotes because the "gate" is operated by people who are not working for the TSA, for what ever reason, and can be walked right around - and frequently is. When you pull up and say, "hi, I'm here to see my mom," they ask, "do you have the number?" being too lazy to look it up. (I'm only assuming laziness - there could be other reasons they might not be willing or able to discern the numbers and their order in a book.)
"Sure," I say, "it's [my wife's cell phone number]." My wife, sitting next to me, answers the ringing phone in her hand when the "guard" calls and says, "OK, let them in."
Did I harm anyone (besides the gate operator's feelings)? Did I point out a flaw in the system? If you live there, do you feel safer knowing this? Do you really think no one of criminal intent has already found - and possibly already exploited - this flaw? Should you chastise me for pointing it out to everyone (put the keyboard down, mom) or should you find a way to fix it?
Not only are the TSA's rules seemingly arbitrary, they're capriciously enforced. (big "DUH!" if you've flown recently.)
- My wife and I are waiting on the security line to board a plane. I take from her hand, by mistake (because I would never purposefully try to create a stir that could get me arrested), her ticket and passport. Handing them to the agent who took enough time from talking his buddy to hold out his hands, he looks them up and down, determines they're valid, and hands them back to me all without looking at my face. Many men have feminine-sounding first names, and it's possible dye one's hair from blond (in the photo) to brown (mine) or vice-versa, but the scruffy, unshaven man holding the boarding pass is decidedly not female.
- I'm flying out of Newark, not long after one guy tries (and fails) to light the shoelace fuse on his shoe bombs. Everyone now has to take of their shoes. On the return trip from a, shall we say, less urban airport, I ask, "do I have to take my [boots that lace all the way up past my ankles] off?" "Nah, g'head." So, is rural America safe from us big city folk, but not the other way around? Wait...
- Coming back again from said not-so-urban-but-then-I'm-an-east-coast-elitist airport, Sheriff J.W. Pepper pulls my bag aside. "Is this your bag, sir?" I'm expecting a world of crap for the rat's nest of cables and wires for all of the electronics I'm carrying. Pulling items from my bag, he takes the time to remind me that all liquids must be carried in a sealable, zippered, clear plastic bag. He then proceeds to take my toiletries from the zippered, clear plastic bag that came with my luggage, and so doesn't say "Ziploc" on it.
When I foolishly attempted to argue with the double-digit IQ that was detaining me, saying, "I flew out of New York with everything like that," he says, "New York is a very busy area; they don't take security as seriously as we do here." Truth be told, no one's crashed a plane into anything near there recently. (And then there's those knitting needles...)
After my dangerous toothpaste was secured in a provided baggie, we all became safer and could fly again. I proceeded down the end of the corridor to put my shoes back on, and my deodorant et al. back into my toiletry bag, in full view of TSA personel. (because real terrorists are not able to get into plastic bags, once they're sealed.)
In case you were wondering, the only thing this policy keeps safe is your shirt, when the change in cabin pressure makes things like shampoo bottles pop open and drip down out of the overhead. But then perhaps you should be threatened with arrest for being inconsiderate and careless.
- On another trip, I headed to the automated check in kiosk, instead of the attended but otherwise vacant ticket counter. Attempting to get my boarding pass, I was asked for the credit card on which it was purchased - a corporate card, which I don't have. Next choice was scanning my passport, which I didn't bring for a domestic flight, then my driver's license, which didn't cooperate. Typing in the confirmation number manually produced no results, so it was off to the ticket counter. They were very friendly (really) helping check in the man with only basic ID, without the card under which the ticket was purchased, who attempted to get a boarding pass with no human interaction and failed. It was when I was going through the security check that I noticed the "OOO" on my boarding pass (when the person checking my ID highlighted it).
Singled out for "additional screening," I waited for someone to go through my bag and wipe my laptop with one of those papers that turns blue or something when you're pregnant or there's explosives inside. Unfortunately it was lunch time, so no one was available, except the supervisor (I think) who x-rayed my bag. He said, since he's the one who x-rayed it, he's not supposed to be the one to check manually. This makes perfect sense. He was very apologetic, admitting how silly it was that he had to be the one to look through everything, since he just looked through it on a screen.
Full of wit: if you can't think straight, then the terrorists have won
Richard Pryor said:
"Snakes make you run into trees. White people see a snake and go, 'snake!' (turns) POW! (face into outstretched hand)"
Please try to remember this when (that's right when) Bin Laden tries to get you to vote for McCain.
via BoingBoing
 clipped from miscellanea.wellingtongrey.netWith Barack Obama so far ahead in the polls some people are getting worried that this election cycle’s October surprise will be a terrorist attack. keep your brain running at all times. When you switch it off bad things happen.
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Monday, October 20, 2008
Air Fair: Adventures in air travel, cont.
Ah, yes, another blog post griping about air travel. It's a lot like the weather, in that everyone complains about it, but most of us feel powerless to do anything other than check the internet frequently for updates to its status.
Where to begin? The beginning, of course, and that would be the Booking phase.
So I'm going through my company's corporate travel site, as I'm required to, to make my near monthly, last-minute flight reservation to Wisconsin (or as I like to call it, Chez Cheese). As is my custom, I skip right past the Deltas and the AirTrans (are they still in business?) and head straight for the Continentals. I like Continental - never had a problem, and check-in is a breeze as I can do it from my cell phone the day before, with my boarding pass sent straight to the phone.
$1300+change. Ouch. But, it's last-minute, right?
Our corporate travel policy makes the system spit back some alternate flights with lower fares. Fair enough, let's save money if we can. One flight on Northwest, leaving at the same time, is $400+change. Like the Continental, there's a layover in Detroit for an hour and a half, at the same time, landing in Milwaukee at the same time. That's when I notice the "operated by Northwest" on the Continental flight. Yes, they are one and the same plane - at three times the price. They're both Coach, the only difference is the Class code (more on that later).
Now, I'm all for saving the company money, and I don't need someone in the travel office asking me why I paid three times as much for the same plane, but dammit, Continental is where all my frequent flier miles are.
This is where I start to do the math. It's the same flight out, but different flights back. If I use the NWA return on the Cont. (say that out loud) departure, the price goes up, because technically it's mixed carriers, even though it's the same goddamned plane. So I try different options to attempt to figure out the NWA price for the same seat Cont. is charging me. I come to the conclusion that it's capricious and arbitrary.
So I call, and ask the Cont. Customer Service rep if they can do better on the price, seeing as it's the same plane and all. No. You see, even though it's the same coach seats on the same plane, same flight attendants, same room for baggage, there's those different classes - those determine the fare. With everything else being equal, what's the difference? The Elite Status frequent flier miles granted. (turns out NWA is a Cont. partner, and they share miles.)
Turns out the Cont. airfare is three times more because it comes with an extra 50% of frequent flier miles towards achieving Elite Status. (remember that "Status" thing for later.) For the algebraically-challenged, that's $400 for 500 miles or $1300 for 750 - one and a half times the miles, 3 times the price. As I type this, it occurs to me that I could have booked two flights on NWA (still less) and gotten two times the miles (more) - plus a lot more leg room. This is something I'll be sure to bring up to a booking agent.
Not seeing a way to make more miles for me sound like a bargain for the company, I go back and book a flight on NWA, 6 AM to Milwaukee, stopping in Detroit, which is now, the next day, curiously only $260.
Shortly, my wife calls. "Did you mean to fly out of LaGuardia?" Shit. Back to the site, cancel the flight, start the whole thing over again. Only now when I select the Cont. flight (now $1600, thank you), it says, "OK, paid, thanks." So much for that list of cheaper alternates I was expecting (I swear).
Remember all those reasons I said I liked Cont.? Gone. Not only can't I pick my seat, I can't check in for the "partner" flight online. So why exactly am I booking the flight through you, Cont.? The privilege of paying more money per mile?
So it looks like I'm a NWA flier now. I singed up for their program when I went to their site to get my boarding pass.
Remember all those "extra" Elite Status miles I'm getting for the Cont. price? Miles that, eventually, when you accumulate enough, you can redeem for things like First Class upgrades? NWA offers to upgrade me to First for $115. Yeah - one hundred fifteen dollars. In the end, instead of paying $500 for a First Class $400 flight, I pay $1600 for a $400 coach flight with an extra 250 miles that, someday, maybe, with a whole lot more miles, I may try to use to get an upgrade.
Epilogue: while I'm waiting in line to board the plane - general boarding, all rows, all seats - some guy comes up and says he has a First Class ticket and, because he missed the earlier announcement, he should get in front of me. I'd like to think that, had I not been up since 4 AM, I would have thought of something clever to say. I stepped past him.
Where to begin? The beginning, of course, and that would be the Booking phase.
So I'm going through my company's corporate travel site, as I'm required to, to make my near monthly, last-minute flight reservation to Wisconsin (or as I like to call it, Chez Cheese). As is my custom, I skip right past the Deltas and the AirTrans (are they still in business?) and head straight for the Continentals. I like Continental - never had a problem, and check-in is a breeze as I can do it from my cell phone the day before, with my boarding pass sent straight to the phone.
$1300+change. Ouch. But, it's last-minute, right?
Our corporate travel policy makes the system spit back some alternate flights with lower fares. Fair enough, let's save money if we can. One flight on Northwest, leaving at the same time, is $400+change. Like the Continental, there's a layover in Detroit for an hour and a half, at the same time, landing in Milwaukee at the same time. That's when I notice the "operated by Northwest" on the Continental flight. Yes, they are one and the same plane - at three times the price. They're both Coach, the only difference is the Class code (more on that later).
Now, I'm all for saving the company money, and I don't need someone in the travel office asking me why I paid three times as much for the same plane, but dammit, Continental is where all my frequent flier miles are.
This is where I start to do the math. It's the same flight out, but different flights back. If I use the NWA return on the Cont. (say that out loud) departure, the price goes up, because technically it's mixed carriers, even though it's the same goddamned plane. So I try different options to attempt to figure out the NWA price for the same seat Cont. is charging me. I come to the conclusion that it's capricious and arbitrary.
So I call, and ask the Cont. Customer Service rep if they can do better on the price, seeing as it's the same plane and all. No. You see, even though it's the same coach seats on the same plane, same flight attendants, same room for baggage, there's those different classes - those determine the fare. With everything else being equal, what's the difference? The Elite Status frequent flier miles granted. (turns out NWA is a Cont. partner, and they share miles.)
Turns out the Cont. airfare is three times more because it comes with an extra 50% of frequent flier miles towards achieving Elite Status. (remember that "Status" thing for later.) For the algebraically-challenged, that's $400 for 500 miles or $1300 for 750 - one and a half times the miles, 3 times the price. As I type this, it occurs to me that I could have booked two flights on NWA (still less) and gotten two times the miles (more) - plus a lot more leg room. This is something I'll be sure to bring up to a booking agent.
Not seeing a way to make more miles for me sound like a bargain for the company, I go back and book a flight on NWA, 6 AM to Milwaukee, stopping in Detroit, which is now, the next day, curiously only $260.
Shortly, my wife calls. "Did you mean to fly out of LaGuardia?" Shit. Back to the site, cancel the flight, start the whole thing over again. Only now when I select the Cont. flight (now $1600, thank you), it says, "OK, paid, thanks." So much for that list of cheaper alternates I was expecting (I swear).
Remember all those reasons I said I liked Cont.? Gone. Not only can't I pick my seat, I can't check in for the "partner" flight online. So why exactly am I booking the flight through you, Cont.? The privilege of paying more money per mile?
So it looks like I'm a NWA flier now. I singed up for their program when I went to their site to get my boarding pass.
Remember all those "extra" Elite Status miles I'm getting for the Cont. price? Miles that, eventually, when you accumulate enough, you can redeem for things like First Class upgrades? NWA offers to upgrade me to First for $115. Yeah - one hundred fifteen dollars. In the end, instead of paying $500 for a First Class $400 flight, I pay $1600 for a $400 coach flight with an extra 250 miles that, someday, maybe, with a whole lot more miles, I may try to use to get an upgrade.
Epilogue: while I'm waiting in line to board the plane - general boarding, all rows, all seats - some guy comes up and says he has a First Class ticket and, because he missed the earlier announcement, he should get in front of me. I'd like to think that, had I not been up since 4 AM, I would have thought of something clever to say. I stepped past him.
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