When not writing meticulous reports of my wonderful travels and everyday fight to vanquish universal evil and save the world. I also read blogs. Much less these days, busy as I am, self-hypnotizing myself into a bona fide mathematician.

When not posing as a 16-year old girl from Kansas in IRC chatrooms, I leave comments on the blogs I read, infused with my usual blend of sassy retort and insightful modesty.

Thanks to the wonders of a strict classical education, and the miracles of modern computer-assisted translation, I usually read and comment in all of four languages (at least that’s what Babelfish tells me). Struggling as I am for broadness of perspective amidst the perpetual echo chambering and intra-community navel gazing of each specific blogosphere… as well as wary to preserve my worldly credit at social functions, without much of the laborious skimming of foreign newspapers that used to come with it.

Among the unavoidable reads of the old continent, sits Laurent Gloaguen, phlegmatic, pipe-smoking, contemporary critique with the dedication of a pro and the tongue-lashing skills of… err… an unpaid expert. His blog usually attracts an eclectic, if not selective, crowd of readers, whose comments span the full spectrum of the childish to the very insightful. As many observers have cauda-venenumously pointed out in the past: “the comments sometimes surpass the content itself”. Which is both slightly unfair to the nice synthetic work Laurent does, and true of every other institutionalized fixtures of the blogosphere.

At times, I have ended up writing entire posts (long ones) in the comment section of some of his entries, instead of simply opening a parallel debate on my own blog: Often, I would find myself sucked into debate on ultra-topical issues I initially held little interest for, and ended up building strong opinions upon discussion… Also, I suspect, the sheer pleasure of using another language without the concern of boring a public that understandably prefers posts not written in some foreign gibberish (and often very much limited in their international scope). Actually, let’s be frank: a lot of my commenting on foreign blogs has to do with a will to practice otherwise unused languages skills, at one level or another.

Anyway, all that to say that I had a lengthy exchange of comments on one such blog in recent times, and not wanting to overstay our welcome, decided to take it on this blog, for added clarity and freedom of ranting. It’s all here. But beware, as it’s entirely written in this cheese-eating monkey patois they call “French”. Try Babelfish for added comic purposes.

Sorry and we will be back to ranting in a civilized language as soon as the next entry.

Accordion Guy picked up this tragi-grotesque list of “Most Harmful” books of the century on Human Events Online, a site that panting hardcore conservatives usually browse with a single hand…

Hmmn, awright… I’m not even sure why I bother discussing a list that places Darwins, Kinsey, Beauvoir and overall, any socio-political thought somewhat left of fundamentalist wingnutry as “harmful”…

Yet… I thought I would point out that these “19th and 20th century” contributions all but pale in comparison to a certain piece of writing from twenty centuries ago.

Now, I am serious here: assuming somebody can give me anything other than “They don’t agree with us” as a systematic criterion for inclusion, I presume we would have to take in account killing and massacring of innocents as an important part of the selection process. In which case, call me biased, but I would dare venture that 2000 years of bloody history all seem to point at that bestseller featuring the life and teaching of that famous bearded hippie.

Not only was the man a dangerous subversive commie with strong anti-capitalist positions and a heavy past as a free-trade obstructionist, but his book went on to justify a good half of all blood baths that took place in recorded history… Tell me about harmful liberal propaganda…

This is an automated post, logged on the 05/25/05.
If, by any chance, thermonuclear war has already taken place and you belong to the surviving race of mutating cockroaches that is now ruling the world, please accept my most sincere congratulations and sorry if the following has lost most of its relevance: can’t plan for everything, now can we…

Of the many places where I am eligible to cast a vote, I am no longer registered anywhere. I am not particularly proud of that, but beside endless hours of bureaucratic confrontations, this unforgivable civic apathy is also saving me many painful choices these days.

Last month was the commons election in the UK, and while voting abroad for this particular election is not that difficult (I did it in the past), I wasn’t exactly subdued by enthusiasm: like a sizable share of the British population, I only suffer the sight of this frizzy-haired prick out of my even stronger contempt for the tories and their stuffed joke of a party (need I even mention what abysses of disgust the BNP and their nauseating 1930’s rhetoric drags me in). All in all, I’d rather impale my own penis on a union jack than ever cast a vote for the British right, but it would physically hurt to give so much as a napkin of support to Bambi, still messy from his marathon blowjob session across the pond. Abstention was, arguably, the only option.

This month, another election, down south in Froggyland, is tearing the masses apart. And ironically, I am also entitled to cast a vote there. Or rather: would be, if the usual French bureaucracy had not quickly and effortlessly convinced me that I really don’t need to spend a week gathering papers and fighting sexually-frustrated clerks to express my electoral opinion on matters that affect my life about as much as the variations of the local French R&B billboard top 10 or the cast of the next Froggy Idol.

And by the way, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard French R&B, but believe me: you don’t want to.

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Sorry, it’s been more than two weeks since I promised you a second installment to my fascinating (and utterly unqualified) ramblings on certain aspects of Japanese modern history… You see, I still haven’t received a positive answer from these senile bastards at Harvard or Yale about that Chair of Political Science, and therefore had to keep with plan B for the moment: something about convincing another bunch of senile bastards that I do know something about Applied Mathematics and Fluid Mechanics, which has left me very little time for this sort of rambling.

Do not worry: given the chances of failure for Plan B, I am already hard at work on the details for Plan C, which essentially involves robbing my local combini with a pair of sharpened chopsticks and run as far as I can in the overall direction of the nearest beach resort.

Anyway, yea, back to the topic at hand: these evil, evil Chinese demonstrators marching on Japanese embassies, armed with deadly eggs and rotten vegetables…

No wait. sorry. I think we were rather about the mass killing of civilian troops, systematic rape, biological warfare, and a whole lot of other very nasty things Japanese did during the war: OK, back on track.

Let’s start by reverting the course a bit and adding some much needed balance to all the negative stuff that’s been spewed about Japan in the past entry:

War and Patriotism in Modern Japan

From my remarks on Japan’s inability to face up to its past and accept the slightest responsibility for the atrocities comitted during WWII, one might get the impression that modern-day Japanese are bloodthirsty monsters eager to invade all their neighbours and start it all over again…

Nothing could be further from the truth.

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Last week-end was the start of a string of holidays known as Golden Week in Japan. All the happy wage-slave masses left Tokyo for a week-long exodus to some exotic location. And because I was stupid enough not to pick Medieval German Poetry, Sociology or some equally bulshittable major, back in the days, I was stuck meditating and doing equations in my garden, fighting with the cats over the few sunbeams that could make it through Tokyo’s many layers of pollution…

Seeing no reason I’d be the only one having an awful time, I figured I would use some time on the side to bring you my thoughts on the heaviest and most uninviting topic possible: Sino-Japanese Relations Through the Twentieth Century to our Days.

Sounds fun, innit?

Actually, this is kind of a trendy topic these days.

To be fair, the “trendy” part is rather limited, and even more so, depending on which side of the Japanese Sea you live on. But around here, this was most definitely the talk of the month, in Japanese news and all over the English-speaking nipponoblogosphere… Hell, even this guy stopped staring at his dick long enough to write a reasonably thoughtful entry on the topic.
Another very interesting read is Michael Panda’s transcription of the incriminated textbooks (you need to scroll way down to the end).

I figured I would just add my own two yens, and if possible extend it past the perspective of personal-level anecdotes: not that they do not have their place in the debate, but there should be a little more to it than the usual “oh yea, here is what the few Japanese I know say about it”…

If you are looking for a fun and entertaining read to kill the next 20 minutes, this most definitely is not it…

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You know, for all my left-wing political hysteria and the incredible amount of time I spend complaining about the state of democracy in the world, I am not much of a conspiracy theorist. I do not believe in that big evil masterplan to keep us all under control.

If anything, I am a strong proponent of the old “Never attribute to malice, what can easily be explained by stupidity” adage… Greed and stupidity, to be exact. And certainly many overt collusions between groups of scary individuals with similar interests. But no international cabal to hide the truth about alien abductions and the enslavement of poorer nations.

Just. plain. stupidity.

Yet, some times I can’t help but wonder. Especially when I wake up, have a look at the triumvirat that now presides over the United States of Earth, and realize they all play for the same team…

See, it all started with our beloved Consul, Supreme Commander of the Armies, followed by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, to be finally joined in their fight for the Greater Good by none other than the Grand Inquisitor of Our Holy Mother Church himself. That sure is quite a powerful trio we got here…

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Hunter S. Thomspon killed himself today.

Damn, it’s like the loss of a spiritual father.

Here is what he had to say about this poor excuse for a President.

I used to read MeFi every once in a while, the same way as I used to read Slashdot a long time ago…

This particular thread is a perfect illustration of why I stopped reading both. In one or the other, you could sum up every single thread thusly:

1. Random guy posts unsupported statement, presenting it as news accompanied by dubious piece of media and trolling comment, then leaves never to be heard again on the thread.
2. Dozens of people pick up the thing and take it at complete face value, post immediate emotional replies without ever questioning the information itself.
3. A few hundred more share pathetically uninformed, yet strongly assertive, insights on a topic they had obviously never heard of until that day.
4. Three people post interesting, thoughtful, carefully researched post explaining why the whole thread makes absolutely no sense and why most of the previous posters ought to read the news once in their life.
5. Sensible posters get royally ignored, quickly give up in face of the ridiculously steep road that needs to be walked back to sanity.
6. More ignorant posts pour in.
7. Thread invariably degenerates into canonical Holy War for the remaining 3000 comments (most of which are only monosyllabic rebuttal to the previous ones, by then).

Mmmn, sounds familiar?

And yea, I know I am quite late on that train of world news, but it’s not like they’ve stopped killing each other in the meantime…

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For most people outside the US, the word filibuster (flibustier on the French coasts) might only raise some vague memories about scary-looking bad guys roaming the seas in order to loot, rape and sink whatever they get their hook on (no, not talking about Dick Cheney and Haliburton here). In US political legalese, however, it carries a very different meaning.
You better get acquainted with it, as you are likely to hear more of it, provided the Democrat senators get some of their spine back by then.
It is also the only legal barrier that stands between the 48% somewhat sane Americans and their newly elected Emperor’s theocratic vision for America.

To do very, very short:

A filibuster is a way for the minority party to oppose a law that’s being debated in the Senate and that would otherwise easily receive the necessary majority vote, by methodically obstructing the debate and hogging speaking privileges.

Senate rules state that every senator is entitled to two speeches of unlimited duration regarding the matter at hand. Further more, only a tiny fractions of such speeches (3 hours per session, to be precise) is required to be germane (somewhat relevant to the matter at hand), the rest can be about anything, and I do mean, anything (see below).

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I wish I could find something positive to say about all that. Something to heal what feels like one of the worst hangover I’ve had in many years, even though I haven’t even had the heart to abuse my daily dose of cough syrup, let alone wash it down with a quart of rum, for the past two days. Like everyone, I’m looking hard out there for comforting words and reasons not to depress.

But really there ain’t.

Instead, and because we need to try and get our mind on something else for a bit (though I most certainly will come back to it in the near future), here is something to listen to.

Make of it what you will.

So, waking up this morning was a bit like a movie:

You go to bed full of hope in the future, confident that tomorrow will be a bright and sunny day where nothing wrong can happen any more, all that, you know…

And when you wake up, there are undead people running across your lawn, destruction and desolation clutter every horizons and the teenage girl from next-door is devouring your boyfriend’s brains.

Or something along that line.

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Being a bedridden moribund with not much better to do than following the outcome of the next Mister Homecoming America pageant, I guess I ought to be somewhat enthralled by the close race unfolding before our eyes.

Truth is: I don’t really care anymore.

First, Kerry is gonna win the election. by a landslide. [yea, you got that right...]

Many reasons to that. including, but not limited to, the fact that polls did not pay the slightest attention to the radically different political context of this year: much stronger mobilization, mass registration drives among minorities, youngins actually getting off their ass to go cast a vote, since p-diddy and eminem told them to do so… all them people who are usually not George’s best friends. And despite all this, the restrictive sample polled still can’t get itself to give a clear support to the incumbent.
Let’s just say it’s not looking too good for Mr. Yeehaw tonight. Which should have the added effect of pushing most of the undecided morons, off their fence, into Kerry’s garden (”undecided” being just the standard technical term for “whatever the majority decides… baaah…”).

I did not say that Kerry would be the next president, mind you: for that to happen, we would still have to see that poor excuse for an electoral system somewhat working in the direction of the democratic process. A concept that got lost rather early in the application of that massively irrelevant piece of law they call the US Constitution.

It is not totally out of the question either, that a bunch of young republicans lead by Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld clad in black denim uniform and cow-boy hats would go and discreetly slit the throat of a few hundreds political opponent while Dubya declares martial law on the ground that Kerry couldn’t have won without the help of the Terrahrists.

Although my guess is that they’ll keep that for 2008.

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Busy is a pale euphemism to describe the current chaotic state of my life right now.

If I tell you I am currently a full-time music producer and arranger, full-time VoIP server architect and full-time applied mathematics student, you might get an idea of what I mean. And there is no mistake in the previous sentence: the word full-time is purposely used three times because I am very much supposed to be doing each of these occupation full-time. Which is kind of a problem given that Earth rotation period seems to be stalling around 24 hours these days. Factor in my current involvement with WordPress development as well as my attempts to keep an appearance of social life by making regular expeditions with friends to nasty local watering holes where we proceed to get absolutely plastered on cheap sake… and you have a mathematical impossibility the likes of which even Gödel would give up on.

Since there are only so many hours of sleep you can remove from your daily schedule before permanent psychosis sets in (I mean, real psychosis, not the milder form of borderline psychopathic behaviour I usually retreat to on a good day), and since I also decided that food could not safely be removed from my daily essential needs, I had to cut down on other activities. As a result, my news readings has long fallen from many hours of intense paper scrutinizing, down to a 30 second scan of my RSS feed list and a few occasional glances at online news articles, every other week… As for TV: I have barely ever watched it in my life and the only TV set of the house is currently stored in my roommate’s room where neither of us ever turn it on, so it isn’t much of an issue.

So we can safely say that I know close to nothing about the big (and small) events of the world these days, except for the rough outline (Bush has not yet declared martial law in the US, Ishihara still hates foreigners and Tokyo maintains a precise average daily temperature of: “very hot”)…

Hell, for all I know, the War of the Worlds has already begun and I am talking (writing, really, but anyway) for a bunch of unmanned computers sitting atop the ashes of what used to be the proud western civilization, while Godzilla is busy fighting evil alien spaceships off the coast of Japan.

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The Vaterland Sicherheit Homeland Security Agency has just come up with a brand new idea to protect you.

Choice quote (emphasis added):

In his letter, Soaries pointed out that [...] “the federal government has no agency that has the statutory authority to cancel and reschedule a federal election.“

Soaries wants Ridge to ask Congress to pass legislation giving the government such power, Newsweek reported in its latest issue that hits the newsstands on Monday.

Homeland Security Department spokesman Brian Rochrkasse told the magazine the agency is reviewing the matter “to determine what steps need to be taken to secure the election.“

Source: Yahoo News via BoingBoing

So let me get this straight: a member of the current executive branch (whose very election is itself a point of controversy) is considering asking the legislative branch to pass a law, that would in effect put the decision to renew the executive branch into the hands of… the executive branch.

Yea, if that sounds like a lot of executive branch in the same sentence, that’s because it is. Somehow I get the nagging feeling this plan doesn’t go in the overall direction of more Check and Balance.

Just remember people, War on Terrorism is Peace, Slavery is Freedom and who needs a goddamn election anyway?

You know what?

Nothing really new with this one, but it just hit me today:

Reminiscing about Bonzo and his ruthlessly opportunistic career (or how to slide from union leader to strike buster in less that 10 years), I realized all of a sudden that he was only the first one in a line of Mediocre Actors Turned Conservative Republican Governors of California…

And for a second, I had some apocalyptic vision of him ever getting closer to the Presidency of the United-States than he was when he married Jackie’s niece…

Thanks God for that stupid born-American-citizen requirement… I can breathe now…

Update: This week’s edition of the Onion has the best headline, ever: