This blog may contain Fair Use copyright material per Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107, miscellany, and research on various topics of historical and current events interest. Includes international broadcasting and shortwave radio. Google Plus has disabled Comments for anyone who doesn't have a Google Plus account, so please email your comments to clistensprechen@yahoo.com with the title of the blog entry in your Subject line.
I don't initiate Hangouts, but will attend if invited.
As you might have gathered from mini-updates on this blog regarding city affairs, the PEGASYS saga is under ongoing development, and the story is far from over yet. The following appeared in today's paper:
These guys, including every member of this board, is ignorant of the role that the cable provider has in providing which channels of what definition it wants to make available for public access. If these idiots want HD, they're going to find themselves on the less-viewed upper tier of channels instead of the more visible lower channels providing SD, which is what PEGASYS was.
The word "idiot" just doesn't cover it. The good ole southern term "idjit" is more apt.
And I'd like to know where they suddenly came up with all of this money that it was starving PEGASYS of earlier when they claimed they couldn't afford it. Answer to challenges: Yes, I know that there are HD entities on lower channels, but those fall into two regulatory categories, neither of which fall under "public access". One of those categories is "local content", as in channels provided for local TV feeds, like the major TV stations in OKC, and those will be both lower channels and HD. Public access channels aren't regulated the way local content channels are.
The other category is cable-only content, and, generally speaking, public access falls into this category but the priority is commercial content providers, which public access is not. Public access is treated by cable providers as a sort of "red-haired step child" of federal regulation, and cable providers won't provide more of its resources to it than federal regulation demands, and a public access entity that demands HD won't get better treatment--it'll get worse. In all of its vast ambitions, the City fails to take the cable provider into consideration, which makes City efforts, quite frankly, half-vast (half-assed). SATURDAY UPDATE--convergence of topics: I got another marriage proposal, this time from a young guy who had no idea just how old I am. This Saturday follows a Friday night when OETA re-ran the Doctor Who episode "Angels Take Manhattan" in which Amy says to Rory, "Husband--run!" ...followed by River Song (Melody Pond) saying to the Doctor, "Husband--shut up". In Saturday's newspaper came the weekly local TV listings in which was announced that there would be a re-run of the performance of one Debra Conner, as Zelda Fitzgerald. The common denominator? The antiquated institution with regard to mental health, that's what, and I'll mention again the situation posed by the Broadway play cum motion picture, "Gaslight". With that, I'll express hope for this hopeless institution by mentioning the emergence of same-sex marriage, the only hope the institution has for evolving into something more civilized than has been its track record ever since it was invented.
Facebook meme that sounds funny now, but was taken seriously in yester-year at a time when The Stepford Wives was a reflection of society's (and religious) ideals, resulting in real casualties.
On the farm, selective breeding of domesticated animals is called "animal husbandry", and there's a good reason for that. It just seems to me that it's long overdue for humans to grace themselves with something more suitable for human beings than a concept conceived in humanity's repeated Dark Ages, including those Dark Ages when mental health was used as a weapon against women, under the religious belief that it's God's natural law demanding that women be happy with the lot served to them when marriage was considered to be laudable as well as necessary and unhappy women were necessarily unstable, in need of institutionalization. It will be the gays that saves marriage from itself, in my view.
I was browsing Facebook for any news of George while the Colbert Report was on the tube, which got my attention when guest Brian Greene commenced to explain worldscienceu.com's online lessons and took the time to explain time. Touched on time travel a bit, too.
Now, I've got an issue with what was discussed on the Colbert Report in regard to time because the discussion stuck with the benchmark of the "speed of light", and speed is a function of time and distance--so if you have the speed of light defining time, you now have a recursive definition, and that 'un won't fly, Orville.
So I'm signing up for the course (it's free). Let's see how Mr. Greene takes to having a time traveler in his class.
WEDNESDAY UPDATE: I just heard that George is post-op and doing well--just incapacitated at this time. That's certainly good news. No doubt recovery will take a long time, though. UPDATE 2:Earlier in this blog I had thrice indicated reasons to be insufferably smug. Well, in that regard, another Doctor Who reference in in order: Melody Pond's doggerel about "penny in the air....and the penny drops". Those earlier posts = threepence in the air. Today is the day when 3 pennies drop.
I might as well add that although the character Clara Oswald has a lot in common with moi, right down to the feisty bit and being an impossible person, there's a huge helping of Melody Pond in there, minus the bit about marriage--plus I'm a whole lot better at history. Just picture the two-fisted derring-do and you've got it. (Alright already--yes, they're American pennies. Now bugger off, tosser.)
CITY UPDATE--3:Got confirmation of one of those pennies dropping this evening, in the form of a rather irate city manager getting all in my face. While I remain concerned about George, this major event warrants my commencing to be insufferably smug and a half for the rest of the day.
City Employee (manager) Eric Benson. YEAH he got that close. Zoom was not used with this. The score as of this inning: Clara 2 Benson 0.
"Penny in the air............
...............penny drops."
THURSDAY GEORGE UPDATE: He managed to get his mitts on a computing device and updated his status on Facebook this morning, expressing an intense desire to get the blazes out of where he is. And it's quite possible that he hasn't convalesced to the point of being able to be out on his own quite yet, and that its his meds talking. Basically, he's returned to consciousness and is feisty at that, and those are good signs at least. I also know he reads this blog, so I'll say something further about what transpired before he went under, something that goes to the heart of a certain matter.
In my treatment of what he said in my regard earlier, and my response to it, it's not to be construed as my leading him on. Au contraire--it's my way of treating the situation with kindness because I know what the phenomenon is like, and I'm convinced it happens to all of us because of the human animals we are, and cannot deny. The heart wants what the heart wants and when you try to reason with it, it won't listen. It never does. The only thing to do is just ride it out, and sometimes that might take a rather long time...but it's only the human chemistry, an illusion, and the masters of illusion in Hollywood shouldn't be surprised by groupies and really fanatical fans because it's the illusion they're in love with. It happens to the best of us, even me.
When such a phenomenon is revealed under the duress of a possibly fatal medical condition, far be it from me to take a reason to live away from somebody even so. Because of the chemical nature of the phenomenon, to be cruel would have medical consequences, and I like George too well to do that. He's conscious and he's feisty and I celebrate that.
For all the talk about my time traveling, I'm not a Gallifreyan timelord, and I'm definitely not British--I'm all too human, as it happens. Surprise. I've walked a few miles in those shoes. My Prince Charming is somebody I've been with over the decades, I'm happy, my heart is not on the market but somebody did manage to steal it for a moment and nobody's more surprised at that than I am. How the hell did that even happen? But I know it to be an illusion, lovely impossible illusion though it might be. No person of science can explain that which defies reason.
Illusions have a way of fading away, though, and reality has a way of reasserting itself, and to make a reference to a certain congressman who claimed he was hiking the Appalachians, no amount of Appalachian hiking keeps reality from setting in when it does. Those who marry on the basis of illusion are the first to get divorced--there's that.
Illusion is why, medically, placebos seem to work ("placebo effect"), and why talking to somebody in a coma seems to be beneficial. Illusions can be good things too, especially during times when a person is going through whatever rough patch he's going through. It can make the difference between giving up and hanging on, and as for George, I definitely wish him all the best. Regardless of anything else, he's still my friend.
GEORGE UPDATE 2: His situation took a strange turn and beyond that I'll be giving more respect to his privacy beyond this point. George, I know that you read this: your friends and your cousins are still pulling for you, buddy. Hang in there, come what may.
Who says Roman Catholics aren't more fun than a barrel of monkeys? In all of the centuries that have celebrated Carnival, no Pope has ever condemned the practice. Morality my ass.
My own Mardi Gras bead collection; I ain't sayin' how I got 'em, either. Yes, that is a rosary there in the middle, and it's French. From Lourdes, specifically.
I understand that the right Roman nation of Italy is actually getting a jump on Shrove Tuesday by starting Carnival as of this upcoming Saturday. Yup, Italians know how to party. However, so do Brazilians. Just sayin'. It's a good time to quote the Irish priest who gave me my Guinness baptism to become an honorary Irishman (as it were): "It's not a sin if you take no pleasure in it". A tip of the tam to Padre Dave. (Yes, I know that a tam is Scottish--now bugger off)
Oh yeah, that's right--we all get a break from Lent celebrating the Irish on March 17th. It's a good thing to be Irish, even if only honorarily. Any excuse to celebrate is a good one.
I now raise a glass to toast all the ladies out there who defy domestication. Louisiana sets them apart with a term of honor: Ya-yas.
...and us radiofolk understand the significance of the number 88. Just like 73 = Best Regards per the numeric radiogram messages dating back to when radio was nothing more than dots and dashes, the number 88 = Love and Kisses.
There's that Louisiana coffee---"Noir comme le diable, chaud comme l'enfer, pur comme un ange, doux comme l'amour".
Nah. Celebratory mood is dampened here without further word about George's situation in the hospital. Out of a bazillion reg'lar guys out there, there are a few awesome amazing ones and George is certainly one of those few. All his friends are on pins and needles at this point, including the other gals who appreciate George for the amazing awesome impressive guy he is. I've totally lost track of how many languages he speaks, and I know that Morse Code is one of 'em. What I find most amazing of all is that he's culturally and politically a conservative and we agree on absolutely nothing in that department, and yet he saw something in me (and I still don't know what) despite all of that. Wow.
Don't SK on us, OM. CQ CQ CQ W2GSS DE KC7LJG K 73s & 88s DE KC7LJG.
TUESDAY UPDATE: Still no word as to George's current medical status, not even from one of his cousins who are also on Facebook, and this is worrysome indeed. Situations like this brings to mind one's own mortality even among those old enough to remember that experience when one's parents passed away years earlier. It's things like this that lead me to believe that somethings are important to say while one is still among the living even though one's younger self would have simply gotten over stuff and moved on. If someone matters to you, say so. You might not get another chance to set the record straight
Jeff speaks for all of us. The procedure wasn't "routine".
Commercials for Valentine's Day gifts are getting more frequent, and I have to remark about the racket of selling rose bouquets for the occasion, based on these commercials. One definitely gets the impression that the main reason for buying them and giving them to someone female necessarily causes jealousy and makes other men look bad. Really?
Somebody on Madison Avenue thinks these are good selling points to a male demographic, which leaves a person with a low opinion of the male mind, actually. What woman is going to pay a twenty-spot (or upwards) for roses to give to a guy to make other guys jealous or to make other women "look pretty bad", hm?
Youngsters in high school are way ahead of this game, given the reports by high school gals of how a hallway full of lockers cause the air nearby to reek of Axe, and that's for the entire school year.
Image via Comedy Central on Facebook--veritas and a half.
My guess is that the vendors of roses in February are counting on insanity, because in the past, appealing to insanity has been a great marketing strategy.
I note with interest that the progress of the times, progress resulting in taking sexual harassment more seriously than in the past (and well we should, as a society), has also made it necessary to return to the straitlaced old Victorian times when it comes to making discreet, civilized indications that a certain special someone has been given permission to show signs of interest, thereby returning us to the age of flower language. To wit:
But---ALL roses? A little nosegay of Forget-Me-Nots used to be acceptable, back in the day, because of the message their name conveyed--but when they were in season, not in the middle of winter. Besides, this USA TODAY display doesn't agree with the definitions compared to days of yore. There's no doubt in my mind that rose vendors are behind this. They've already imported a large inventory of roses from somewhere and expect to clear inventory by February 14.
In a previous post I mentioned friends going through travails, one of them being a young adult going through the heartbreak of a romantic break up, and in private I offered the following consolation: women have a saying about men who, after a period of time, prove to be unsuitable: "Before you find your Prince Charming, you have to kiss a lot of frogs". Men, the same principle holds true for you, too, and consider how likely it is that you might be intending to spend a bundle of cash on roses you're going to give to a frog. Think about that, and then give things more time--and then consider the other days of the year that your lady would like to feel appreciated.
And then consider how fortunate my young friend was in not marrying the frog. Something to think about.
Late June UPDATE...plus another update: This seems to be warranted at this time not just because of the recent hits on this topic but also because of somebody amorous from a rather distant past came to visit on his way to elsewhere, just interested in catching up on stuff not suitable for posting on Facebook. Was quite honest with my current guy about what the deal was, left it to him to choose whether to go to the meeting or not, and he went.
The guy from the past was, at the time we were dating, a recent divorcee and still had a lot of issues to work through. That ex-wife was always the "elephant in the room". Ya, before a gal finds her prince charming, she's gotta kiss a lot of frogs and we mutually agreed that "us" didn't work. Recently, he told me that he married again...and divorced again...so there you have it--what happened worked out for the better, from my point of view, at least.
From his point of view, I'm not so sure--I know that look on him when I see it. Most people consider the "shoulda woulda coulda" about what would have happened if things were done differently, but in the time travel department, that involves branching off to a parallel universe, and it's always the risk that the parallel universe turns into a dead-end pocket universe, too. In terms of healing from a bad life experience, time is required even so, and it's how a person heals which determines which universe that person ultimately lives the rest of his/her life in.
Rebound dating doesn't have a great rate of success, and that's statistically speaking. A person who is still hurting from the last amorous adventure isn't going to be suitably ready for the next one for quite some time, no matter how ready the other person involved is. Too much unresolved stuff remains to be sorted out first.
But thanks for the visit anyway, fella. Stuff that happens in this department is very real regardless of whether or not stuff works out ultimately as time goes by.
Time.
Being in a relationship of whatever sort doesn't mean you're dead, either. Stuff happens, and it's very real, and whether it's awkward or not, the other chooses to chaperone anyway. That's human biology for ya, and that's why there's an Appalachian Trail in Argentina. But what defines a human being apart from other animals is the making of choices regardless, and some human beings do better at that than others, especially those others in political office. Or, in days of yore, traveling salesmen.
When something very real happens, or happened, dealing with it is just dealing with reality, and reality definitely was very really dealt with in this case, and it's not that I don't think that my guy as of now doesn't trust me. People of a certain age always have some kind of history and you can't find one that doesn't. Trust is the issue more than anything else, and it's the choice to keep it or betray it is what's at issue, and it ain't like he's dead, either. I for one won't betray a trust. Once that's broken, there's no repair.
Nonetheless, when one reaches a certain age and something real happens in spite of whatever, it's a time of life to celebrate it regardless of the circumstances. It means there are still things in life one can appreciate long after we've been relegated to the nursing home, and the same can be said of all my near, dear friends too. Nothing wrong with that at all.
There's a noteworthy quotation at the end of the Amy Pond series of Doctor Who...
"We're all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?"
Really--life is too short to do otherwise.
Second UPDATE:I just heard that a friend went through the joyous experience of finding a special someone and we who are his friends are joyous with him. Love takes many forms and when one is in a happy relationship already, that person can care greatly about a lot of other people too--and those are the people who make a big difference to you. It matters to you a lot when they're not happy; it matters a great deal to you when they're in pain, and it matters much to you when they're upset, and you want to make things better even if all you have to offer is just a hug. People you really want to keep in your life rather than be without. People you care about are the people you love. All of them.
I didn't mention this earlier, but will now--there's one special case of where I, rightly or wrongly, determined that I was the cause of consternation, that I was the problem, and decided that extracting myself from that was best. This doesn't have to necessarily be the end of that matter, though; it's something that just couldn't continue on that particular course. I'm open to a change of course, though, but the ball isn't presently in my court, so to speak. Nothing further can be done on my side of that equation, but in a situation like this, I'm still open to negotiations. I rarely burn bridges completely.
Okay, there's a question about my own status. Hey--that's a little too personal for the Internet, don'tcha think?
Let me put it this way: marriage is a religio-social construct and I'm an atheist, so put those 2 and 2s together. The whole intention of that institution, in the first place, was to keep track of progeny for the purpose of inheritance of property in a time when women and children were both considered to be the chattel property of the male. You may safely conclude that I've always been too smart for that shit.
But that doesn't mean that I haven't found Prince Charming. Like I said to the guys on FB who were fighting over me even though they've not seen what I look like: I'm spoken for, warts and all; finding somebody who'll take on all the warts is more difficult than finding a needle in a truckload of hay--especially true for those who have more than their fair share of warts.
It's worth mentioning that the guys who were fighting over me, sight unseen, was because they found out that I actually like to climb radio towers and I can cook, too. Yeah, I feel used, ha. But so would any other woman who gets handed flowers and proclamations of love only because of the male's anticipated prospects of housekeeping that the male would prefer to avoid. Yeah--like I said, I'm too smart for that shit.
In honor of VD on the occasion of VD, here's Tom Lehrer...
"There's a rose in the fisted glove...the eagle flies with the dove...if you can't be with the one you love...love the one you're with."--Crosby, Stills & Nash
Interesting quote from one of Mark Twain's letters came down the FB pike a few minutes ago..."Buffalo, Feb. 14. Dear Sir: I am only too proud of the chance to help
with this the only Valentine I venture to write this day -- for although
I am twain in my own person I am only half a person in my matrimonial
form, and sometimes my wife shows that she is so much better and nobler
than I am, that I seriously question if I am really any more than about a
quarter!" - Letter
...and speaking of unusual people, Sid Caesar will be missed. As will Shirley Temple Black. R.I.P. Pink e-rose goes out to +George Strayline , a guy who's likely to recognize some of this here, ha. Here's to your speedy recovery, buddy.
THURSDAY PM UPDATE: Yet another piece in the PEGASYS saga falls into place, and there was a bonus included. As before, it's premature to say what happened, but, as before, I am commencing to be insufferably smug and a half for the rest of the day. WOOOOOT!!! SATURDAY UPDATE: I just *had* to cross-post this from Facebook, now making the rounds, and it's *so* true....mostly........
One more piece of news, rather sad news at that: on Valentine's day, Jim Henson's son suffered a massive heart attack at the ripe old age of 48. R.I.P. John Henson.
SUNDAY UPDATE: George has a date with a surgeon 5am next day and all his friends wish him the best, including his friends on the Radio Time Capsule...which brought to mind a rather antique but interesting take on an old standard, "Clementine"--when Bing Crosby does it, that is...should have thought of adding this one on the 14th...
April 8 UPDATE: Just because this is a Valentine's theme post for February, that doesn't mean that George Takei can't come up with something theme-appropriate in April. Lest we forget, we revisit affairs amorous when June rolls around for the weddings. Thank you, George, for the e-card for Facebook circulation:
I know I haven't posted a fresh blog post for about a week now, and my regular readers have been dropping off a bit at this point even though I have updated my previous post periodically.
Here's the deal--regarding the recent shenanigans committed by the City, I've been up to my own counter-shenanigans and to say any more than that at this point would be to prematurely tip my hand.
At the point in time when I can talk about what mischief I've been up to, you can bet it'll be a juicy post.
It's just the case that "it ain't soup yet". But by all means, stay tuned. For now, let's just say that I'm fixin' to revisit some of my own ancient history.
UPDATE: The following, circulated by a FB friend who actually does know me all too well...
Also under construction....
A clay version of a mini City Council will meet here, greenscreen and all. :D
LATE SATURDAY UPDATE: Another piece in this matter just fell into place, but I can't divulge at this time what it is. It has nonetheless been the cause for me to commence being insufferably smug for the rest of the day.
MONDAY UPDATE:
It's official--it's on. I am now publicly recognized as being on the city manager's radar. I got some lovely footage of that, too. En garde!
Commencing to be insufferably smug for the rest of Monday, too. ^_^
....ummmmm.....just got word that another friend is headed for surgery, out of his own state, though. That pretty much puts a damper on things at the moment. :(
....and speaking of stuff I just found out on Facebook, some "genius" is thinking it's a great idea to sell "concrete canvas", bragging that its pliable to manipulate into any simple shelter type shape, add water, and voilà, instant shelter. Sorry, kids, but I gotta put my scientist hat on for this one and revisit an old argument I had with Truthers about how only explosives can render the Twin Towers into powder.
Think of it this way: there's a reason for the existence of rebar. Concrete is just quicklime plus aggregate plus water, and once it's in the presence of fire, it turns from a solid back into a powder again. Concrete without aggregate = cement, so you see, there's even a reason for aggregate to be mixed in...and that reason is that cement isn't as solid as you think it is after the water is added...and even the aggregate isn't sufficient for construction, which is why we have rebar. Pfffffft.
New movie on my must-see list: "Mr. Peabody and Sherman".
The following is just a test--it is only a test...
By golly, it looks like it worked. Gonna have to fill in those blank pages with some more images, then. Hehehehehehehehe....
Snowmageddon has hit Enid and the first order of business is digging out...of about 3 inches over here, while some OKC guy driving through downtown Enid was saying it was 5 or 6 inches. Yeah, I don't think so.
Turned on the tube, flipped to MSNBC to watch Prof. Jachk Learner, of USC Gould School of Law, talk about Facebook at 10 years and privacy issues...whereupon he used the term "gaslight". Enter Sigmund Freud's ghost, and the ghost of summer Chautauqua in Enid, at this point. The theme was the 1920s and "Anything Goes", with one of the characters having her mental health issues discussed with zero consideration of the impact the aforementioned Austrian had to change American attitudes toward mental health and the American usage of resulting mental health laws to use as a weapon against spouses, nearly all female.
Ari Melber didn't recognize the term "gaslight" and submitted instead that it be called "the Seinfeld Effect--It's not me, it's you". Doing that might make the concept more understandable, but the term "gaslight" evokes the entirety of the history of the practice, as the term originates from a stage play, by Patrick Hamilton, about exactly that, scenes taking place in the time period of the 1920s. It was eventually made into a movie in the 1940s, by the same title, because mental health abuses continued to ramp up between the 1920s and, quite frankly, through the 1960s.
Prof. Learner was saying that today's companies were about the business of creating an online environment where privacy wasn't considered the norm, and in doing so, the fault of being alarmed wasn't their fault but all in the minds of the people online who objected. Yup--that is indeed a classic case of gaslighting. Calling it the Seinfeld Effect does this no justice especially when it makes the concept comical. It is a serious matter indeed; it never should be thus trivialized.
Those of you reading this post and are snowed in are urged to take this time to view the movie "Gaslight", the 1940s movie, keeping in mind that this may very well be happening with online service providers other than Facebook as well. Learn from history lest ye repeat it.
Ummm, no--I will not be attending Winter Chautauqua this year. Or the Summer event either. I've said so before: it's good for the basics and I'm beyond the basics. I don't get much out of it these days and I've got more productive things to do with my time--going is pretty pointless. That's that. Finis.
PEGASYS research update: Found the original Articles of Incorporation filed with the State of Oklahoma. Love me or hate me, fact remains that I'm a helluva researcher whether you plonk me down into a public library, university library, science library, or law library. And as Will Sonnet used to say: That ain't brag--that's fact.
I don't see the City Council mentioned in the corporation laws/bylaws....
UPDATE 2: Still doing some legal research but in regards to the public's right to demand public access channels as a public forum, and specifically the Pruneyard case from which came "the Pruneyard Test" utilized in subsequent court cases. If this line of research pans out, that means that the clause in the most recent contract PEGASYS entered into with the City is unenforceable and the City is out of line demanding that City promotion can be demanded as a "priority", as stated in that contract. Interesting.
Of interest are the footnotes which reference specific precedent legal cases, possibly brought to bear on the City's demand that PEGASYS place the needs of the City to promote itself over and above (a "priority") over access that the community is within its rights to demand.
Basically, even on private property, if the public frequents something or somewhere, it's still a public place, and so this can be said of public access channels, which, by definition, provide access to the public. The City's demands on the channels restrict that access by the public.
Another snippet of analysis on the PruneYard Test
Part of Supreme Court decision: Justice Thomas,
joined by the Chief Justice and Justice Scalia, concurring in the judgment
in part and dissenting in part. rendered June 28, 1996.
The lawsuit filed:
(The following have been resized and margins cropped)
The City of Enid's response:
(The following have been resized and margins cropped)
