You decide

In preparation for my attempt next week to execute the civic obligation of jury duty, I watched the movie 12 Angry Men. Y'all seen this one? I watched the 1957 version this time, with Henry Fonda.

In theory, this should be the most boring film ever made (except, perhaps, for this one about Napoleon). A full 93 out of the film's 95 minutes are spent in a jury deliberation room and the "action" consists of nothing more than discussion, although some of it is quite animated at times. It is a supposedly open-and-shut murder case, but one holdout on the jury needs some more time to think it over.

But theory aside, it is one of the most interesting films I've seen. It is an excellent case study on the effects of bias, prejudice, and complacence on the critical thinking process. The scripting is insightful, the directing is clever, and the acting is like none you'll see today. The music and photography is a little silly, but hey, it was 1957 and Mr. Bruckheimer and Mr. Zimmer hadn't come around to set the standard yet.

Of course, some people suggested I merely get out of jury duty by making rash statements indicating that I harbored negative feelings towards certain racial or ethnic groups, or that I was in favor of the death penalty for most everything, including jaywalking. I don't know...we'll see.

A Close Call

I'm reporting to you live (obviously) from the town in which I live with disturbing news that we almost may have possibly had an encounter last night with a terrorist. Or something.

I was in bed last night, the hour was just after 11pm, and I was just about to drift off to sleep when my attention was apprehended by a series of flashing lights from the window. The flashes didn't quite fit the pattern of headlights, and neither were they prolonged enough to be the signal from an emergency vehicle. And it surely couldn't have been lightning, as I knew, being an astute observer of the weather conditions, that it was currently snowing outdoors.

And then it dawned on me. Might we possibly be experiencing that rare and unique meteorological phenomenon, referred to colloquially as "thunder snow." I didn't dare to hope.

I gently made my way over to the window, poked my finger through the blinds, and took a gander. I was disappointed to realize that the source of the flashes was not a rare and unique meteorological phenomenon, referred to colloquially as "thunder snow", but instead a camera wielded by a dark figure lurking in the inky shadows.

My first thought was, "Quick! Call the Department of Homeland Security...or better yet, get Jack Bauer on the line...we're being scoped out by terrorists."

But then the dark figure moved into the soft glow of the streetlight and her identity was revealed.

It was none other than my friend and neighbor, Laughter, who, although not a terrorist in the strictest sense of the word, was enjoying some late night photography and, apparently, the last laugh in this little scenario.

Some good news...

Those of you who pray from time-to-time for the judicial branch of our government might be interested in this little snippet from Mark Alexander's Patriot Post:

In a major triumph for the Constitution, the Circuit Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia ruled last Friday that the Second Amendment means exactly what it says. Six plaintiffs had sued the District, saying that their rights were infringed by the District’s ban on hand guns. In the 2-1 decision the majority agreed, tossing the District’s gun ban onto the scrap heap of history.
Even more surprising was the straightforward logic the court used in reaching its decision, going back to the words of the Founders. From the ruling: “To summarize, we conclude that the Second Amendment protects an individual right to keep and bear arms. That right existed prior to the formation of the new government under the Constitution and was premised on the private use of arms for activities such as hunting and self-defense, the latter being understood as resistance to either private lawlessness or the depredations of a tyrannical government (or a threat from abroad).” We couldn’t have said it better ourselves. The ruling is truly sweeping in its scope, and while the District said it will appeal, losing such an appeal has the potential to sweep aside more of the nation’s anti-gun laws.

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Another of the 'Tests of Manhood'

The other day, Jonathon ran up to me with a very intense look on his face and said in a very excited manner, "[John Smith]* can make snowballs...without using any gloves!"

Wow.

The title of this post is explained in the first paragraph here.

*Name changed to protect his privacy. His real name rhymes with Sandrew Mean.

Zoooom!

As of last Friday, we have finally taken the giant step into the 21st Century, although by quite a circuitous route. We have "high-speed" access to the world wide web.

Courtesy of my neighbor, of course, whose name rhymes with Berry Sanderson.

* * * * * * * * * *

(Warning: These paragraphs are nothing but boring, technical details, included here only because the author, for reasons unknown even to himself, feels compelled to dislcose them.) For the past five years, I have inquired from time-to-time with my local phone company (which rhymes with Berizon [Ha, ha, I love doing this]) about getting high-speed internet access and been told, "Oh, probably within the next 12 months or so." So last year, I decided to be the proverbial squeeky wheel, refuse to take "No" for an answer, and press the issue further that I might climb the rungs of the Customer No-Service Department ladder and perchance get ahold of someone who might give me a real answer.

It worked. One wishing to obtain high speed must be within 18,000 feet of the local telephone company's nearest CO (central office), the local gateway for dispersing contents of the web at high speeds. My aforesaid neighbor is all of 17,600 feet from the CO, hence the reason he was permitted high-speed entry. I am just a hair over 18,000 feet, hence the reason I was not permitted entry. In situations like this, I was advised, a booster could be used to send the signal out as much as another 1,000 feet. But my line had too many load coils (i.e. is really old) and couldn't handle a boosted signal at all. Oh, well.

This was all Mandarin to me, so I obtained 3rd party confirmation with other individuals I know who work in the rackets, I mean industry.

* * * * * * * * * *

So, when I made my annual call recently inquiring when I might be permitted entry into the high-speed club, the no-service specialist said, instead of their usual answer, "Its really anyone's guess at this point," (He really said that.) I began working on Plan B.

Plan B was to run a cable the approximately 305 feet from aforesaid neighbor's modem, through his apartment, out the wall, up towards the roof, under the eave, over to the telephone pole, along the wire to my house, under my eave, through the wall, and into my office.

Plan B worked. There you go. Here we are. And that's pretty much the story.

Pictures of the house

We're having some work done in "our" formal dining room and foyer, and I thought I'd share the progress with a few pictures. I took them this morning, after I'd fed my children breakfast and before everyone else in the house was awake (What is wrong with this?!).

There are a few things left to do before the work is done. A couple area rugs will go down on the dining room floor. Some additional trim painting is needed in the foyer; and that paper on the floor in the foyer is because the floor needs one last coat of sealer, which won't be until Monday. Y'all should come and check it out...maybe sometime this next week.

Gridlock!

While returning home from 'town' this afternoon, I happened upon a "traffic situation" which was frustratingly amusing, or perhaps amusingly frustrating. And rather than explain it in a long, frustrating, and probably not amusing paragraph, I will recreate the situation visually:

Just a quick sketch.

And for those readers that are not visual learners, Vehicle 'A' (Yes, those ovals are "vehicles".) intended to turn left onto the side street, but was unable to because of the vehicles lined up behind Vehicle 'B', who also intended to turn left onto a side street, but was unable to because of the of the vehicles lined up behind Vehicle 'A'...HA, HA, HA, a never-ending circle of traffic gridlock, if I ever saw one. There was also a fair amount of traffic in both of the right-most lanes which prevented the 'lined-up' vehicles from making their escape and putting an end to this strange cosmic occurance.

So I observed no small amount of waving, honking, saluting, and gesticulating. And I had to laugh. If anyone wishes to observe this phenomenon first-hand, these vehicles are probably still there, and there they will remain, no doubt, until the King returns and delivers us from the shackles of this present age, chief of which, of course, is sitting in traffic.

But we are not as those who have no hope...