Thoughts: Pizza Politics

⊆ 9:19 AM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , , , , . | ˜ 6 comments »

The life cycle is as follows: We are born, we grow throughout childhood to support ourselves; we marry and have children and launch some kind of career; then we die.  The OU life cycle works much the same way, only with the grease from cheap Athens food oiling the machine.  The synergy is uncanny.


As the first month of college wraps up and the Big Bang of the rest of our lives starts to cool, there are a lot things I would've done these past couple weeks in hindsight.  One of which would be to keep running track of every time I was offered free food.

During the welcoming ceremony for the College of Communication free food had to have been mentioned a dozen times to the audience.  If the thought had occurred to me, I would have put on the J-School Renaissance Man mask and crashed all these first meetings.  More swipes on my meal card.

(Which brings me to another point.  It's a real shame that the Regular-10 meal plan is being discontinued at the end of the year.  It's a full five hundred dollars cheaper than my Super-14 and 10 swipes is really all I need.  They need a "Super-10" so cold cut lovers like me can go and get their weekly loaf of bread and lunchmeat and waste minimal time going to a dining hall.  I find myself swiping stuff on my Super-14 that I don't really need, just to have it.  We have four rolls of paper towels and we're almost through the first half of our first.)

Back to this pizza --since it's pizza that's offered most of the time.  Very few meetings I've gone to actually have this pizza they broadcast.  I'm in training sessions for The Post but I've seriously given some thought to Backdrop.  Aside from the fact that Backdrop is technically my field, I've heard they deliver (good pun, no?) on their promises of food.  That's pure rumor mill material, but I'd be willing to turn a blind eye to the lowly, pseudo-pledging status of freshmen --another thing I've heard via grapevine-- if Backdrop was willing to cover our core needs.  It wouldn't be so bad if these meetings weren't scheduled in marathons that spanned the dining hall hours.

What we need to do is unionize.  I know full well that activities, especially journalism ones, are hard-pressed for members, really... action needs to be taken.

The time is now.


Thoughts: Making Lemonade on The Wall

⊆ 6:45 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , , , . | ˜ 0 comments »


I hope an enterprising IT major finds this.

To state the obvious, Facebook has taken the world by storm.  Once frequented by impulsive college kids, the website has ballooned to over 100 million.

I’ve been trying to keep up with the New York Times lately and on more than one occasion Facebook has wiggled into the headlines.  Years from now, people will be looking at Facebook the same way we look at flagpole sitting, the Macarena, and Tomagotchi pets.

If Facebook has become synonymous with college procrastination, college websites have become tokens of unkempt, unwieldy web space.  I searched on the OU site my first weekend here for the welcome weekend schedule.  I found a schedule and went to where a parade was supposed to start.  The parking lot was empty, but three years ago, a parade started on that first Saturday.

Is my train of thought obvious yet, or is eight years of twenty-first century thinking still not enough?

Why doesn’t someone get with Facebook and find a way to mandate Facebook accounts and use that as a way to disseminate information to college students.  You could have applications where you log in and find assignments and track your grades.  Or you could just model a non-profit private network to allow professors answer questions via the infamous Wall –or something like it— and post syllabi and all that good stuff that keeps the college money machine churning.

All it would take would be one talented upperclassman, an independent study, school administrators, some money flowing, and there you go –the world’s changed again.

A world that’s a little smaller, yeah?



Stories: Longshot-6 Sniper, Long Night

⊆ 3:50 AM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , , , . | ˜ 1 comments »

Note to self:  When in dire need, never, under any circumstances, go to the hospital.


Like most good college stories, this one begins a little after the clock struck midnight.  I was in my room, taking apart my Nerf gun (modifying the Longshot-6 Sniper into a real sniper) with my friend, Mitchell.  The gun comes in two parts and I was cutting one part to supe it up to give it to him.

Then, as fate had it, I cut my hand.

I very accurately tell people that it looked like it was from the movie 300.  Blood fountained from my finger and it took all I had to not get any on the floor getting to the bathroom across the hall.  It was there I found Dan brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed.  He whistled at the blood I was putting into the sink and I told him that it really didn't hurt that bad.  And it didn't --I felt next to nothing unless the water pushed away the raw skin.

I looked down and it looked like hell.  For the first time in my life I saw my own bone tissue.  I looked away and kept running under the sink, but every five or ten seconds that vision pulsed back to me: that spongey matter, that blood coming from nowhere, that exposed bone.

Dan seemed to pick up on how I was starting to feel, full seconds before I mentioned it to him.  I sat on my bed and watched the world fade in and out, cursing and focusing to not "go."  I was clutching my hand so tightly to stop the circulation that my other hand was cramping.  Mitchell ran up to his room to get some supplies and Dan got a rubber band I asked him for.

Push comes to shove, I was in our hallway and an R.A. I had never met before was looking at my hand.  Adrenaline seeped into my stomach and it lurched just thinking about what my purple finger looked like.  I had to sit down and the R.A. called for campus police to take us to the hospital.  Looked like I might need stitches, he said.

Then Bri called.  I must have had that starry-eyed look wounded soldiers get when the nurse comes around.  I wish I hadn't told her I was going to the hospital since it worried her so much, but I promised to call her when I got back.

Then, a twenty minute wait for the official ride to come.  It was nice waiting there.  I'm an Eagle Scout, and Dan and I later found out the R.A. were too, and Mitchell was a Life, one rank away.  I felt in good hands.

The driver was late but he was so cool Mitchell wrote him a positive comment in the hospital suggestion box.  We sat around for a while and a nurse gave me some things and told me to check in.  The check in girl was nice enough and made it painless.

But then we sat there for about forty-five minutes to an hour, just watching other people go into the main hospital area.  Bri called again, assuming we were out, but no, I hadn't been seen yet.  I renewed my promise that I would call her when I got out.  Other than that, we spent most of the time in the waiting room swapping stories until the nurse called me back.

I would've never known it was 2:15, I felt so awake and relieved to finally get things under way.  The nurse was forthright about it all; she told me to sit on a gurney while she got things ready to look at me.  I smiled and swung my feet appreciatively.

I texted Dan in the waiting room to get a cruiser ready to pick us up.  Twenty minutes later, I texted him to scratch that idea.  I had to hold my phone at arm's length above my head for a couple minutes to collect enough service to send a text.  Twenty minutes after that, I got two messages from Dan saying a cop was on her way in fifteen minutes, then a more recent one saying she had some business and wouldn't be there for another half-hour.  I went to text him back and say to call it off, but lo and behold, no more service.

All the while I sat there on a gurney, just chillin'.  A myriad of thoughts came to my mind.  Good God, they're getting the operating room ready.  I'm finally getting my first stitches!  How I'd kill for one bar of service, one call: to Dan, to Mitchell, to Bri, anybody.

Very slowly, everything began to become irritating.  I was starting to get a migraine from the incessant beeping of random hospital equipment; I caught myself muttering to myself when the nurses would talk to each other:

"I'm glad only another hour for the graveyard shift.  I just want to get out of here."

I hear ya.

"A lot of teenagers tonight, wonder why?  It's Homecoming weekend, I guess."

Yes, and it's Athens, Ohio.  Let's be honest here.

"Aww, Jim looks tired.  You should go off the clock early and get your rest."

Yeah?

One snippet that I caught was the nurses talking about patient statuses.  A girl, they said, was finally coming to from alcohol poisoning.  I'd later learn that she lived very close to me and I'd seen her countless times before.  I saw her but didn't recognize her on her own gurney.  She was a lot worse off than I was, and it was these little bytes of sympathy that really kept me sane.

Then the nurses at the desk mentioned a "young man with a laceration on his hand."  I, never one to be pushy, contemplated and chose not to say anything in case there was somebody else with a real problem with their hand.  I could swear I heard something like, "Yeah, Connie got 'im."

Not soon after --I'd say around 3:15 or so-- Mitchell came in with a policewoman.  He asked about me and I hollered from around the corner that I was still there, still chillin'.  Without waiting for any pretense, I marched up to the desk and asked if I could just go.  "Nuh-huh," the policewoman said, "You're not going anywhere until you've had clearance."

So I turned to the closest nurse and said in the most curt I've been in months that all I need was peroxide.  She looked at my like peroxide was an old wife's tale and said she'd get around to me shortly.  When we were finally coming home, Mitchell said I looked pissed.

I took back my well-worn place on the gurney and she brought a sponge in a packet and let it sit there for about twenty more minutes.  Fermenting, I have no idea.  I offered to take it out and help her speed things along, but she gave me another hospital minute.   The doctor came and tried to smooth everything over with friendliness, but I had to repeat myself when he asked what happened I was grumbling so much.

The nurse scrubbed my hand and rinsed it with come equivalent of peroxide.  Minus the neosporin that you can't see, this is what two-plus hours at the hospital showed for itself:

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Uh-huh.

I laughed.  I was derisive about it, openly.  I went back into the waiting room and poor Dan got a kick out of it.  When Mitchell got out of the bathroom, he was speechless.  They asked about stitches but nope, no stitches.

The cop that was supposed to take us back had a call so another one who just happened to be there gave us a lift.  Nice guy; my only complaints were the seats weren't comfortable and he wouldn't let me sit shotgun since there was no room.

I got back and finally met up with my roommate Van.  By the sounds of it, he had just as an enthralling night as I did.

Current time: 4:30 a.m.
Sunday September 28, 2008


Election '08: Not Another Debate Analysis

⊆ 12:09 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , , , , , . | ˜ 0 comments »

This isn't punditry.  A college freshman offering political punditry is almost as absurd as punditry taking over mainstream media.  Knowing well that the debates we're on last night, I was cringing at the thought of waking up and seeing armies of self-proclaimed bloggers-turned-news hubs give their thoughts on how the debates went.  So far, it has been kept to a minimum (I was relieved to see a series on pro wrestling) but just to clarify, I am NOT going to play scoreboard in presidential politics.


The impressions that I got from watching the debates this morning, however, took me aback.   If you didn't have a chance to devote the hour or so Friday night (I call that weekly block of time "kick-off"), I suggest finding it on YouTube.  During the day, more and more posts became more accessible.

In some advanced wisdom, I remember taking the 2004 debates seriously.  They didn't make a lick of difference to me as a high school freshman, but they seemed noteworthy.  I even remember staying up a little later to see one or two in 2000.

It was watching these discolored videos on YouTube that made me realize how grave things are getting on a national level.  While , a few of us Scripps freshmen were sitting on College Green lamenting about the future of our majors.  "It's depressing to hear the professors talk," was said, and I remember saying, "It's like we're getting bachelors in Unemployment, minoring in Useless."

I was taught that debates were about more than just content and regurgitating figures and slamming people, but the candidates themselves.  The debate videos had piqued my curiosity; I took a glance at videos from past debates.

Then it occurred to me: There's a reason plastic caricature masks of Kerry and Bush were so trendy for Halloween 2004.  Amidst the typical "actually, my words were..." and "my opponent's plan..." were a lot of Bush's thoughtful pauses and Kerry's "my fellow Americans"'s.  Politicians were politicians and life was good.

In last night's debate, two people stood behind two podiums and relayed their thoughts.  Watch the videos again.  You can feel the weight of the world squeezing the politics out of them.  Suddenly McCain really was old, and Obama really was young and impulsive.  McCain lectured a little bit and, if you listened closely, Obama snorted into the microphone once or twice.  

Both men scrambled to fit and defend details of their plans into the allotted time.  Moderator Jim Lehrer pointed out that though time was being swapped between them pretty equally, both candidates were using much more than their five minutes.

By the ease and eloquence in their speech, I don't think the slow pace was tactic.  Rather, it showed that we now have people who connect with Americans and care.  

I'm no more optimistic about the state of our country.  I'm still not used to personal candidates, and it worries me, but in the same token, come January, there's going to be a little more work be done on Pennsylvania Avenue.

So, to parody Eliot:
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but passionate politicians


Music: "Another Way to Die"

⊆ 10:24 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , . | ˜ 3 comments »

Changes are abundant in the James Bond community these days.


With the casting of Daniel Craig, the sixth briton to dawn the tuxedo and grab the Walther PPK, in 2006's Casino Royale, the Bond franchise caught a second wind.  Younger people were drawn into the good ol' fashion, suave, "shoot 'em, blow 'em up" formula that has kept 007 in commission.  Young audiences were taken in by a trendy change of pace that puts Bond in the center of an internal struggle as well as dealing with supervillains.

The 2006 action-flick --where Bond was finally portrayed as a feeling young agent with a rich story-- was budgeted for the then-highest in the franchise, $150 million.  November's next installment, Quantum of Solace, looks to eclipse it, budgeted at $230 million.

From the trailer, we can see some fun things ahead, namely some European chase scenes, planes, and what looks like a hefty sequence around a harbor.  With location shooting officially done in June, we watch the rest of the parts of Quantum of Solace unfold.

Bond chick? Check.  Olga Kurylenko -Ukranian model/actress.  Doubtful to disappoint.

                     

Post-production special effects?  In the works/wrapping up.

Testosterone-pumping, sexy theme song?  Finally leaked on the Internet.

On par with the rest of the "New Bond"'s taste for shaking things up, Quantum of Solace employs the talents of two unlikelies for the 22nd theme song in the franchise, "A New Way to Die."  The White Stripes' Jack Black and R&B singer Alicia Keys have teamed up for the song, a first-ever duet for a Bond film.

Below I have a Coca Cola commercial that has an instrumental in the background.  A leak that was recently taken off YouTube had a full demo of the song.

I say demo only because that's what I hope it was.  When I first heard the leak, I've got to say, I was disappointed.  That classic White Stripes minimalism really bled through the leak.  Jack White himself are on the drums, which is probably a good call.  God bless Meg White --I hope she's doing better after the tour cancellation,-- but her drumming is a little underbred for a spy flick.  

Thankfully, the Coke commercial sounds a lot cleaner.  Offhand, I think the demo was missing a few filler instruments or they weren't completely figured out.  It's exciting to hear what White can do given the resources.  He also brings another first to 007 music -distinctive, belting, rock vocals.  It goes well with Keys (and match her pitch most of the time) not to mention gives a new look at the psyche of a double-oh agent.

Quantum of Solace hits theaters November 14.


(Both from YouTube)
Official Quantum of Solace HD Trailer:



Coca Cola Commercial:



Notice! Guerilla Warfare Impressions

⊆ 12:12 AM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , , , , , . | ˜ 0 comments »

For those of you from J101 who are following.  I was messing around with layout and got the wrong blog posted in the RSS feed.  The real one's up now.  Enjoy, it's my pride and joy.


Impressions: Guerilla Warfare

⊆ 10:32 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , , , , . | ˜ 2 comments »

  Photobucket

Translated: "He gave us his example!"


Where have all the riots gone
As your city's motto get pulverized?
What's in love is now in debt
On your birth certificate
So strike the ******* match to light the fuse!
-"Letterbomb," Green Day


Ay Nicaragua, Nicaragüita
La flor más linda de mi querrer
Abonada de la bendita, Nicaragüita
Sangre de Diarangen.
Ay Nicaragua, sos más dulcita
Qué la mielita de Tamagas
Pero ahora que sos libre, Nicaragüita
Yo te quiero mucho más
Pero ahora que sos libre Nicaragüita
Yo te quiero mucho más
-"Nicaragua, Nicaragüita," Carlos Mejía Godoy


"[The guerilla fighter] will also make use of what he learns as the months or years of the war strengthen his revolutionary convictions, making him more radical as the potency of arms is demonstrated, as the outlook of the inhabitants becomes a part of his spirit and of his own life..."
-Guerilla Warfare, Ernesto "Che" Guevara


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Translated: "The weapons of revolution and socialism don't come without combat."


I've seen kids walking around campus lately wearing Che Guevara t-shirts.  Right there, superimposed on solid red, that infamous face.  After finally seeing The Motorcycle Diaries, I questioned one of the students what they thought about the movie or if they'd read the book.  The gist of the reply was, "No.  Uhh, what's that?  Oh, no.  Che's just a cool dude."

A cool dude, I could go with that I guess.  It struck me odd that so many people were so ignorant about what they were so openly celebrating, but that happens.

The truth is, things are a lot different from Che's time.  The Latin American revolutionary hero has since faded away.  There are no ideological revolutions and upheavals, only a few diagnosed terrorist groups, just as many unhappy people as there were before, and millions more Che Guevara t-shirts.

Che's political reform was a kind of militant humanism which took every man into account and used them as tools for common good.

Compare that to FARC, the biggest thorn in the side of Colombia's government and probably the largest terrorist group in the Spanish-speaking world.  FARC was once the military wing of the Colombian communist party, but then turned to ransom and drug trafficking to fund themselves among other ways.  

Nowadays, FARC has very little political if any.  They resort to car bombing and kidnappings to flex their muscle.  One of the most interesting things I found in Guerilla Warfare is that Che wasn't in favor of terrorism and thought armed uprisings were last resorts.  He writes early in the book: "It is necessary to distinguish between sabotage, a revolutionary and highly effective method of warfare, and terrorism, a measure that is generally ineffective and indiscriminate in its results, since it often makes victims of innocent people and destroys a large number of lives that would be valuable to the revolution."


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Translated: "The principles are not negotiable. -Fidel"


Most of the book isn't written like this.  The majority of it is tried and true ways to start a guerilla unit, not anything page-turning.  What's more interesting is the fact he sounds like a broken record, which shows how common sense combat was to him.  He was a pure revolutionary.

So what I want to know is, how did Guevara's armed humanism get perverted into terrorism and drug trafficking?


Election '08: The Man's an Idiot pt. 1

⊆ 8:02 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , , , , , . | ˜ 2 comments »

The second part in this series will focus on the Obama, the man that was too good to pick a woman as a running mate; but now, let's take a look at McCain, the man that pulled a beauty queen with a pockmarked reputation out of his you-know-where.


The killjoy to any good Young Republican rant is the Obama supporter's infamous factoid: Though John McCain graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy, he was 894th out of 899 people in his class, not to mention he lost five jets while in the military.

It's hard to dispute something like this when you take a look at select parts of his energy plan, namely the clause about nuclear power.

John McCain Will Put His Administration On Track To Construct 45 New Nuclear Power Plants By 2030 With The Ultimate Goal Of Eventually Constructing 100 New Plants. Nuclear power is a proven, zero-emission source of energy, and it is time we recommit to advancing our use of nuclear power. Currently, nuclear power produces 20% of our power, but the U.S. has not started construction on a new nuclear power plant in over 30 years. China, India and Russia have goals of building a combined total of over 100 new plants and we should be able to do the same. It is also critical that the U.S. be able to build the components for these plants and reactors within our country so that we are not dependent on foreign suppliers with long wait times to move forward with our nuclear plans. 

JohnMcCain.com

I'm sorry, I was doubled up on floor after I read this.  By the time I was back on the chair soundly, I felt insulted.  Let's break this down.  Hammer Time.

Skipping the horribly capitalized title, nuclear power is, in fact, not zero-emission.  Nor is any way of making electricity.  Don't get me wrong.  The actual process of making nuclear power is far more eco-friendly than the other ways.  According to the Energy Information Administration, nuclear power generates 3.1 grams of CO2 per kilowatt-hour while hydroelectric power produces 11 grams, 600 grams for natural gas, 900 grams for oil, and 950 grams for coal burning.

What this doesn't consider is the CO2 it takes to do all the behind the scenes things.  Nuclear plants are made of very big pieces of machinery and a lot of large-scale transportation, not to mention mining and enriching the fuels.  Don't worry it's still lower than most, but not by nearly as much as you'd think.  Leading chemist Jan Willem Storm van Leeuwen says that the whole nuclear process could emit from 80 to 480 grams per kilowatt-hour, up to almost 160 times what many think.

That myth disproved, let's move on.

The countries mentioned all have something in common.  They are all rapidly expanding and two of them are providing electricity to some areas for the first time.  The United States already has an energy infrastructure to work off of.  China and India each both have more than three times the population of the U.S.  McCain's website makes it sound like we're running behind in the nuclear industry, but actually, we're still the world's largest producer of nuclear power.  No.  No we shouldn't be able to do the same.

Now it's time for the chuckle.

Forty-five new plants by 2030.  Considering there are 66 plants operating as of the beginning of 2008, the eventual goal of 100 new plants sounds like a a good idea.  That would make nuclear energy the main way the U.S. would get its power.

However, comma...

Unless the price tag for nuclear power plants, this solution from the McCain campaign is an outright fairy tale.  As a reference, the Olkiluoto power plant that is slated to go online in Finland next year, is priced at roughly $5.5 billion.  This is top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art, something a McCain administration would argue America deserved.  Keep in mind here: 100 of these in the next thirty years.

A little work on Wikipedia goes a long way.


Sources:
"Carbon Dioxide Emissions from the Generation of Electric Power in the United States." CO2 Emission Report. July 2000. Energy Information Administration. 23 Sept. 2008 .

Van Leeuwen, Jan Willem Storm, and Philip Smith. "The CO2 Emission of the Nuclear Life-cycle."Nuclear Power: The Energy Balance. 2005.

A note:
Sorry about the shoddy MLA sources.  I thought better few and bad than none.


A Call to Arms

⊆ 10:56 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , . | ˜ 1 comments »

A few of us thinking about butting heads together with other media students and starting a project.  


Eventually we'll be looking for people outside of Scripps, but for now, we want to make a strong core of any communications majors (we want everything from PR to Advertising to IT to Magazine and News) and anybody who wants to do what we're told we're all here to do: perfect our craft.

Try to drop us a line within the next week or so, but if it's later, no biggie.


Anybody interested can get a hold of me, Adam Liebendorfer, at:

al211307@ohio.edu

or Mitchell Kinnen at:

mk402407@ohio.edu



Don't be shy,
Adam


Bread'n'Butta: Estoy Enamorado

⊆ 11:57 AM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , . | ˜ 1 comments »

I'll admit, usually I'm a midnight blogger.  Have to give people something new when they wake up.  But as my self-proclaimed adages say, "Bloggin' is good for the noggin" so "when the blog gods call, you answer."


I've stumbled on something that really horrifies me this morning.

Since I moved in here at OU, I've kind of seen how impassionate about things I am, a very anyway-the-wind-blows attitude.  All these people and all these strong opinions, some things just seem so trivial.  I'm really a natural talker, but some things would just never occur to me to talk about.

It was in Spain of all places when I heard of The Motorcycle Diaries, and for three years since I've written it off as "some revolutionary flick," but because of my recent Spanish double major choice, I walked into Alden Library for the first time and checked it out.  I did it more as a matter of principle ("That would be pretty bad to have a Spanish degree and not have seen The Motorcycle Diaries.") and even as I plopped it into my computer, I sat back and really sort of facetiously said, "Ok, let's get ready to have our lives changed."

Say what you want, but there's nothing like a Latin American hero.  For those of you unlucky enough to not have seen the movie yet, it chronicles a pan-South American journey taken by Ernesto "Che" Guevara that eventually inspires him to become a leading voice in communism in South America.

The entire trek parallels the story of Buddha: an upstanding young man leaves home to find extra meaning in life and he encounters the sick, the poor, the dying and is ultimately transformed.  In a way, it's also kind of a modern day Don Quixote with Ernesto and his sidekick Alberto traveling together.  I really want to swim across the Amazon now.

What horrifies is feeling I had two hours after mocking the hype about the movie.  Only one notion penetrated my thoughts.  "Yep," I said, "This is it."  No meditations, no second-guessing: Latin America.


Bells'n'Whistles: Introducing the Canon 5D Mark II

⊆ 8:50 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , , , , , , . | ˜ 1 comments »



Wednesday was a tough day for Nikon fans.

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Photo from Canon.com



In its second move to combat the Nikon "feature offensive," Canon has introduced the next in its line of full-frame digital cameras, the 5D Mark II.

Expanding on the size to megapixel ratio of the original 5D, Canon has thrown in some extras that are sure to please audiences when the Mark II comes out this November.  The Tokyo-based company has applied the groundbreaking 5D sensor to the proclaimed "megapixel arms race."

The result: a 21.1 megapixel powerhouse with an ISO range of 50-25,600 and 1080p HD video recording.

In a September 17 post on Yahoo! News UK, writer Duncan Geere says that some Canon engineers are disgruntled by the over-the-roof number of megapixels citing that Canon "has the technology to blow away the competition" and wished that two versions of the 5D came out.

The 20 megapixel line was once reserved for medium-format digital backs, but Canon's 1Ds Mark III broke that earlier this year.  Every since then companies have been flocking to full-framed sensors to fill ad space with impressive megapixel numbers, but Canon has stayed ahead of the pack.  One engineer in Geere's article stated, "They have the technology to blow the competition away by adapting the new 50D sensor tech in a full frame and just easing off a little on the megapixels."  He also writes that the marketing departments of these companies large drive the tech departments to boost megapixel count.

Though the camera sports a mindboggling amount of megapixels, the largest ISO range in DSLR's to date, and up to thirty minutes of HD video recording, the rest of the features are so-so.  Four frames-per-second, regular old live view we're getting used to, sensor self-cleaning.  Competitive, but not top-of-the-line or innovating.

All this came as a blow to Nikon, who's almost always had the upper hand in the ISO war, since Nikon's full-framed flagships price at least $3000 and the 5D Mark II starts around $2700.  

Let's not let the 5D Mark II announcement eclipse other great things Canon's doing, namely the three new Powershots hitting stores this fall and the lower 50D with the new EF-S 18-200mm image stabilizer.  

For those of you who have stuck around this long and barely know anything about cameras, let me translate all these figures for you: it's time to get a job and start saving.


Impressions: The Beginning...

⊆ 9:51 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , . | ˜ 3 comments »

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Ladies and gentlemen, with much pain I regret to inform you that they days of secret diaries are over.

I wish we could still use "diary" as a namesake; the word "blog" still doesn't sit with me.  Every time I use it in conversation makes my gut gulch like I took too many trips up to the wok line.  On top of that, it just sounds like an unpleasant bowel movement, found under some section of a pepto-bismol label.

But, alas, the ball hath started rolling, and there's no way to change it now.  Not that I'm a connoisseur of secret diaries or anything, but there's a interesting phenomenon with this blogging deal.

My MySpace is starting to grow cobwebs, but back in its heyday, it was THE place to go for your daily high school angst.  Now Facebook has usurped it and the angst has all but gone away.  Occasionally I'll visit it to deny friend requests from "Sexxxy" webcam sites, but that's about it.  

MySpace blogging had some things that I really liked though.  You could type enter what was going on at the time you blogged like what you were listening to, watching, or reading.  It also had you pick a category (Automobiles, Travel, Religion, School, etc.)  And it's there that a truly interesting phenomenon cropped up:

blogging for blogging's sake.

Daydreaming, thinking out loud, marveling at the very thought of spilling your guts on free web space for God and the world to see.  Kinnen captures the very essence of being a first-time poster in this blog, and that's what drew me to it.  It almost feels like the next step in mass communication, right in the same lineage as Gutenberg's printing press.

Blogging in the past two weeks has made the world seem much smaller, too.  At Tuesday's journalism lecture, I noted how much smaller the room looked.  The school I come from has Prom Promise assemblies the size of my Journalism 101 class, but yet it was smaller than the week before.

So small, in fact, that I've been confronted with a dilemma.  What happens when you walk past somebody in REAL real life that commented your blog in not-so-real life?  I've passed a few of them and though I can't remember it, I'm sure I've given a "God Bless You" or "Excuse Me" to at some point.  So far my stance is to not be caught unsmiling but let them start the conversation.  After all, I'm not going to be the creep.  Another paradox: it's probably more creepy to realize it without saying than to "be the creeper" and say hello.

Oh, well.

What better way to express the 21st-century Net Revolution than with a little Shakespeare:

O wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is!
O brave new world
That hath such people in't!

-The Tempest
Act V, Scene i


Blog Contest: Whatzupwitu

⊆ 9:54 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , . | ˜ 5 comments »

Ok, I thought I'd try something a little different.


Rules:
-All participants must be blog users who post regular
-One post per person, por favor

The Prize:
A thoughtful blog comment

The Challenge:
Explain to me in 200 words or less what IS this?


Couresy of YouTube


Bread'n'Butta: We Don't Like Ike

⊆ 9:18 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , . | ˜ 1 comments »

Fifty years ago, our country was being run by Dwight D. Eisenhower under the campaign slogan "We Like[d] Ike."  Nowadays, the name Ike connotes something very different.  


Hurricanes are extraordinary things, certainly enough to stifle doubts about nature's ability to fight back.  As expected, the hardest hit areas this season have been the gulf states of the Southeast.  Forecasts tomorrow are showing the entire country to be mostly dry -finally rebounding from the latest attack in a two-month string of hurricanes to make landfall on the U.S.  

Atlantic Hurricane Season 2008 is proving to make a name for itself.  With the confirmed death toll nearing 900 and closing in on $50B in damages, the storms this summer have eclipsed the past two years: 394 deaths and $7.5B in 2007, and a lucky number 7 and $500M in 2006.  Its doubtful that even this year, even with its May head-start, will reach the level of Season 2005 (Katrina, among others, took three spots in the top ten most intense hurricanes recorded).  But tell that that to the impoverished people of Haiti, who have been pummeled by hurricanes Fay, Gustav, Hanna, and Ike -right down the alphabet- for two straight months and reportedly still looking for bodies.  

Ohioans may find a special place in their hearts for Ike.  The first I even heard of it was the collegiate way: playing Halo in the dorm rooms.  "We're like the only place in Ohio that has electricity," on of my Red-Teamers remarked.  Sure enough, later that night I received an e-mail from my mom saying how school was closed because trees had fallen on the power lines. 

I got a taste of what the rest of the state was dealing with the following day.  The cloudcover was saran wrap tight and the wind was blowing so hard even the sturdy oaks that line East Green swooned a little bit.  My roommate and I constantly had to pick twigs from our sandals in our two-hundred yard walk to lunch.

Our wing of Washington Hall has our own personal ties to the situation as well.  Dan Reese, a photojournalism major in the room next to me, is an out-of-state student from Austin.  He told us recently that his alma mater, West Lake High School called off school for much of last week to serve as a shelter for stranded hurricane survivors.  That's a heck of a photo essay when he goes home for Christmas.


Impressions: How Am I Even Writing This?

⊆ 11:52 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , . | ˜ 5 comments »

The rush and rapture of the college life has come and, almost, passed.


I'm finally getting that swamped feeling with all this reading we have to do and frankly, I'm a little peeved at the professors.  Some of them have a rhyme or reason behind what they're having us read, like the single textbook for journalism 101.  For other classes, however, the reading is disjointed, superfluous, and really a waste of time.

My old high school strategies are changing.  Over are the days of reading a chapter for comprehension.  Take Public Speaking, for example.  The dual set of textbooks we have for that mess are by far the worst textbooks I've ever read.  They're abominable, especially the one, i Speak, where they over- and restate things several dozen times within a chapter.  And to think, I actually wanted to learn public speaking before all of that.

While the rest of my floor mates are in constant Nerf gun melees, I realized that I really did take a hard schedule this quarter.  And it's kind of got me bummed.  

I had it all planned out: I was going to be on The Post, the Speakeasy, Backdrop, and maybe poke my head in at Brick City Records this fall.  But with 100-plus pages to read every night and classes that I don't need to take (UC190) and things I never wanted to do in the first place (five hours worth of mandatory study tables) I'll be lucky to scratch up regular attendance with the triathlon club.

So in these rare circumstances, I'm actually very thankful a sorority girl decided to wake me up from the hall.  She hollered my name in a thick, northern Ohio accent -or rather "aaaccent"- and I sprung awake and went right back to the fifty some pages I had left for "Religion, Gender, and Sexuality."


Tech: Even Beethoven was Deaf

⊆ 4:09 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , . | ˜ 2 comments »

As is sometimes characteristic of us college students, the pages I've read today could probably make a paper chain longer than I've walked today.


Thus far I've consumed about a hundred pages since last night, and still have that much more to be "sitting comfortably" tomorrow for classes.  The total distance I've walked -has to be less than a quarter mile- has been comprised of sparse trips to the bathroom and, the highlight of the day, a trip from Washington to Jefferson for brunch.    The reading this far into the game has been mostly im's and reading for "Religion, Gender, and Sexuality" and Journalism 101, but with Spanish and Public Speaking on the table for the third and fourth quarters.

Each reading session has been punctuated by a brief crawl over to my computer for some music, just to make sure I'm still human.  Probably the driving force in my outside life today, I'm embarrassed to say, has been the exploration of Genius, the playlist generator provided on the latest version of iTunes.

I had a healthy list of four-letter words for Steve Jobs when I read earlier this week that the iPod classic I bought at the beginning of the summer was going to be outdated.  I scrolled on the Apple website and read about the new 120Gb classic with its special "Genius" feature.  Apple.com describes this innovation as follows:

Say you’re listening to a song you really like and want to hear other tracks that go great with it. With a few clicks, the new Genius feature finds the songs in your library that go great together and makes a Genius playlist for you. You can listen to the playlist right away, save it for later, or even refresh it and give it another go.

Come on, now, join in: and the crowd said "oooh;" "ahhh."

Not soon after this announcement, I was asked to update iTunes and get this new Genius gimmick on my computer.  The first impression I had of it was how substantial it was: it took about fifteen minutes on my brand-new MacBook to install everything.

Same old iTunes, except now you can view your media in "Grid View" which isn't earth-shattering, but really a lot like the new versions of Windows Media Player sport.  The navigation is a little more WMP-like too, which was my biggest complaint with iTunes aside from its hideous interface.  Functional, but hideous

It was time to get into the meat and potatoes of iTunes 8.  I forget exactly what I clicked but I was launched into Genius's setup, where it calibrated my library with iTunes "mainframe."  The couple minutes it took got me excited for the grand show to come.  The first thing that happened after the setup, though, was the sidebar came up.  Oooh, the sidebar.  Unfortunately, when I clicked a song, all that came up was what I'd call an iTunes Store sidebar.  This incited a few more four-letter words, thinking this was it.  I haven't paid for music in two years.  How insulting.

Then I spied the Genius icon in the bottom right corner.  I selected a song and clicked the icon and a Genius playlist opened up.  Now we're cookin' with Crisco.

Except the Genius playlist wasn't as inventive as its name leads on.  John Mayer's "Gravity" came up as one of the 25 songs for every song I chose: Springsteen's "Adam Raised a Cain," Coldplay's "Strawberry Swing," Kenny Chesney's "You Had Me from Hello," and various songs by Wu-Tang Clan.

Well, so much for that... for now.  That's ok -Beethoven was a musical genius and he was deaf.

So just like everything else Apple does, it has planted the next seed of innovation with Genius, presenting it in near-infancy and with little to show for it.


Fall Quarter '08: Images of Home

⊆ 4:05 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , . | ˜ 0 comments »

Leading up to my leaving for college and he being an empty-nester, there were times, say, when it we were coming home late and it was raining, or at sunset when we were calling it a day in the yard, that Dad would turn to me and let me know how good of a fit Athens would be for me.

It didn't take long after I came here to realize some of the things I would look back on way down the road.

Like outside Washington, with its endless green lawns and damn red oaks, throwing the football with at first my roommate and then whoever wanted to enliven the game for a couple of spare minutes. Throwing, throwing until our arms weren't sore anymore and the spirals we had back at home came back.

Or walking The Mile. Leaving State Street with the same clothes I had when I left but now a little more wrinkled, with a couple unaccounted stains, carrying a Gatorade and wearing a you-caught-me face. Stepping over half-digested Burrito Buggy burritos drying on the warming afternoon sidewalk, only able to pray I won't be next.


Bread'n'Butta: Ambassadorial Musical Chairs

⊆ 2:11 PM by A. Liebendorfer | ˜ 2 comments »

Heck of a week: I start classes, I declare Spanish as another major, I listen to Yusuf Kalyango talk about crisis and international reporting, we expel the ambassador from Bolivia, Venezuela expels ours.


I have a good friend from Bolivia.  Starting next week in fact, I was going to look for a job to fund a trip "down there" for spring break.  What I didn't know was that Bolivia is, according to Al Jazeera English, South America's poorest country.  So much for that.

What I did know was the kind of situation that was rumbling in Bolivia.  My friend I met my junior year in high school, when he stayed for a year as an exchange student.  It wasn't until after Dan went home that I learned his father held a government position (maybe the only way they financed the trip) and that every once in a while rioters, would drop little presents on their porch: maybe a decapitated dog one day, graffiti the next.

That was the lure of it.  That's a place where It's happening.  News.  There were no reports that anybody was killed or really many were injured in the rioting, until very recently so I could write it off as a safe spring break.

Now, maybe not so much.  In the past week or so, almost a dozen people have been killed -including seven farmers earlier today- in clashes with the government headed by Evo Morales, a leftist sympathizer of Venezuela.  This goes without mentioning the dozen or so injured.

Hard to believe that two days ago I was figuring out how to fly into Bolivia's main capital, La Paz (Spanish: "Peace").

I was fortunate enough to get a question in at yesterday's double lecture.  "How can live coverage be improved?" was the gist of it.  And the the gist of Dr. Kalyango's response was "preparation, preparation, preparation."

Reading up and knowing all the backstory to South America, I feel like I've starting doing just that.  


Impressions: Amazingly Thin = Amazing Relationship?

⊆ 6:32 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , , , . | ˜ 2 comments »

Photobucket


Everybody, meet Max.  Max is a hunk.  That's what I go to the gym for.

"That's what I should do, Mitchell," I confided to one of my new Scripps friends at dinner, "I should be a sex critic.  Do those even exist?"

This was after he laughed when I compared a girl to bad cigars.

Among other seconds today, I went to my second class of Religion, Gender, and Sexuality (CLWR222).  So far no complaints; in fact, I'm kind of becoming a fan of the class.  One of the articles we had to read was on Chinese lotus hooks, where young girls would have their feet wrapped and bound and permanently deformed.  All this was either to supposedly make them more attractive or to make them physically unable to run away from their husbands as they could not even walk properly afterwards.

The article we read had to do with the fact that girls weren't bound into these hooks by men holding them down, but other woman (mothers, grandmothers, aunts, etc.).  It became so popular that you were a lesser female if your feet were how God gave them.  It's a weird phenomenon if you think about it: a national sadistic fetish. 

At its height, men took an attitude of "let women do their thing."  The article talks about how women doing this to other women fostered in every young girl complete contempt for every other female she would ever meet.

Then you look at fashion models.

For the hell of it, I watched the annual Victoria Secret fashion show a while back.  Some of the women looked like the boys from my high school cross country team dressed in drag.

There's a lot of things unsaid about girls who don't the under-one-hundred-pound mold.  Good things?  The vast, vast majority.  Unsaid?  Probably, and it's best that way.  I can't think of a way I could ever tell a girl I appreciate her for not being superskinny without sounding like a creeper.

Is that message understated, though?  I'm thinking a resounding yes.  Maybe a national holiday is in order?

Sitting in Jefferson with Mitchell, I overheard an overweight gentleman talking about his girlfriend and how they match up in every way.  He was happy and that made me a little happy.  Being a single guy, I pick up well on who's happy with who they're with and who's not, and this chum was on cloud nine.  And the fact that he got past what everybody else told him should look for made me happy too.

There's nothing quite like a bad cigar.  Not that I'd know.


She Kissed a Girl and We Liked It

⊆ 10:19 PM by A. Liebendorfer | ˜ 0 comments »

[I found this one in one of my older blogs]


courtesy YouTube user: ManiaTVdotcom

My dad doesn’t keep any secrets in his car.  I’ve learned that from sitting at bank drive-thrus and waiting for groceries. 

 

With this in mind, it was second nature to plunk in his old copy of Janis Joplin’s Farewell Song that I found suspiciously stowed in the glove box.  The opening track is an acid blues version of “Tell Mama” and had so much speed and torque to its sound, I could hear the gears moving.  This is what women sounded like when the rocked the world when Dad was my age.

 

:::   :::   :::

 

[A yuppie electronic flourish] “USB: Please say a command.”

 

“Play artist Katy Perry.”

 

“Playing artist…”

 

When Jon said her name to his car that first time, my first thought was, “Gee, that’s a catchy name.  ‘Wonder if she’s a porn star.”

 

He asked what I thought of the song in the first dozen bars.  It was a chick and she sang to a thick drumbeat.  I gave him lip service and said she sounded sexy, which wasn’t untrue.

 

Jon turned it up just loud enough to not carry a conversation over so I hadn’t much of a choice but to let the chorus hit me.

 

“I kissed a girl and I liked it,

the taste of her cherry chapstick...”

 

The words really kicked my ass.  Immediately I looked to Jon and demanded who in the hell this…this…woman was.  I ended up having to look her up when I got home; all he could do was giggle and all I could get out of him was that she was some new name on the Top 40. We reclined and set it on repeat, silently appreciating something coming from the speakers.

 

Katy Perry’s got it all: a chest out of a Bare Necessities catalogue, oozing confidence, and the face of that girl you always wanted to sit with in the high school lunch room.  Her music is a turn-on and in the same token turns on us.

 

In these rough times for masculinity, Perry throws us a bone. Somewhere out there, the traditional American Man is sought after. It’s a hopeful message in a world where men are having children.  She likes to point out that some men resort to guyliner and girls’ pants: “want to wear my jeans.  Don’t wear my jeans.”

 

With lyrics like “You bitch and moan about LA/wishing you were in the rain reading Hemingway” and “You don’t eat meat and drive electrical cars/You’re so indie rock it’s almost an art/You need SPF 45 just to stay alive,” it’s hard not to look and see yourself part of the epidemic.  That’s what her album One of the Boys is –an antidote.  Just from the title, I can see old Katy lounging around with some burr and conducting a self-help group for men with pussiitis.

 

“Hi.  I’m Rich.”
“Come on everyone:”

“Hi Rich!” “Hi Rich!”  “Hey Rich, how you been?”

“Hi everybody.  I’ve been doing well, thank you. I’ve been coming to Bob’s basement for about eight months now.  I finally started taking charge again; little by little. Oh, and I might go hunting next turkey season.  Depends what Marge says.  She's still got the final word.  Me and my brudder Jim haven’t done that since high school…”

“Hunting’s fun; you’re on meal duty turkey season then!  Yum!  I love turkey.  Jim, have we addressed that little problem we mentioned last time we met?”

            “Well…ah, yeah.  I mean, yes, Katy, yes I have.  I’m learning how to control it.  No more of those things, but every once in a while when I’m by the mirror, after a shower, say, sometimes I try to shift around see what I’d look like if I were…”

 

Pop’s definitely not Rich, but maybe I should throw a mix CD in the glove box.  Dad might really appreciate it.


Impressions: Brave New World of Digital Intimacy

⊆ 9:18 PM by A. Liebendorfer | , , , , , , . | ˜ 0 comments »

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/07/magazine/07awareness-t.html?_r=1&ref=magazine&oref=slogin



A lot of people would wonder why I like this article so much.  To us echo-boomers, it doesn't say anything we haven't heard of before.  In fact, for most of us, it's talking about things we drench our lives in everyday.  I guess a textbook topic name for it would be: "a glance at how social networking websites are bringing the world together."

That's all face-value.  What drew me to the article was the fact that it was written somebody who actually remembers life before the 'net.  We take the news feed on Facebook like it's always been there.  Granted there were some things they mentioned I had to give a look like Twitter and some things like "ambient awareness" that really left a little more knowledgeable.  

The writer of this story throws around words like "phenomenon," "paradox," and even "E.S.P." for Facebook and sites like it but really it was going to happen sooner or later.  This one's for you, Professor Stewart.  The Fourth Truth "They" Don't Want You to Know about the Media: Nothing's new.  First it was telephone.  I'm sure nobody was seeing cell phones and look where we are now: GPS, text messaging, video messaging, new kewl ringtones.  The technology was there and Zuckerberg used it.

I thought it was weird, that bit about how many people we can keep tabs on at one time.  Scientists say 150, a little bigger than my graduating class.  Maybe that dopey small town I came from wasn't so bad after all.

That's how they get us.  We can't possibly imagine what the next great thing will be, only hope that we can afford it.  There you go, the future of marketing and advertising: let people put in tell you what they're interested and suffer them your pitch.

Sometimes I wonder what somebody years and years ago would think if we went in a time machine and brought them back.  The Founding Fathers would be smiling, I think, and the ancient Romans would say we were gods.


Impressions: The Challenge of Change

⊆ 8:35 PM by A. Liebendorfer | ˜ 1 comments »

http://scrippsjschool.org/ohiojournalist/article.php?id=10


For our first day of journalism class, we were asked to read an article explaining how the media world is in transition.  While reading, I was expecting a paper assigned: "Where do YOU see mass media is going?"

I think the world is starting to tap into age-old wisdom via new-age technology.  There are just some that people trust their news with.  Celebrities, in a way.  The first person that came to mind as I went through the article was John Stewart.  

My brother recently showed me Indecision2008.com, the official Comedy Central coverage of the ongoing election.  Granted, John Stewart and Stephen Colbert aren't what you'd call quality journalists, or even really journalists at all, but there are some people I know who rely on that for their daily news.  Obviously these people don't take the election too seriously.  I can't help but think, though, that Comedy Central has tapped into something rooted in all of us: the need to listen to the village storyteller.

John Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Tom Brokaw, Neil Cavuto, Nancy Grace, Anderson Cooper, Ann Curry, Al Roker!  All of these people are popular on television, but several of them are in print and online too.  People can't get enough of them.  

Look at Katie Couric.  Almost everyday, people log on to cbsnews.com to see what old Katie wrote in her notebook today.  As if we know her.  At a quick glance, I noticed she averages about a dozen comments for each of these paragraph blurbs.  They're god-awful from a git-yer-news standpoint, too short to really know what's going on.  But... it's Katie Couric; it's who we want to hear it from.  I wish I got a dozen posts on my Facebook wall everyday.

Yes, sir: the big bucks in the media come from being the guy everybody wants to hear it from.  And the more ways you give people what's going on, the bigger those bucks get.  We know that newspapers and magazines are starting to give up their readership to the 'net.  It's all about being that name everybody goes to, and being everywhere.


Election '08: Here's to You, Mr. Wright

⊆ 7:20 PM by A. Liebendorfer | ˜ 1 comments »

I swear this is the last time I'll talk about it and sadly, no Wyclef Jean quotes today.

"I'm not sure I like how all this is going," my grandma said over the paper this morning. "It seems like all they're trying to do is entertain everybody; all I care about is the health care."

She put down The Plain Dealer on the on the cover was the old Straight-Talk Express flanked by some woman I just assumed was his daughter or maybe. This far into the election I started thinking why we hadn't heard of the McCain girl before. Hilary had Chelsea but at his age, a daughter on the campaign trail could really pull her weight.

But no, it was bigger than that. She was actually his running mate. I couldn't figure out how to say her name: "PAH-len," " peh-LIN," "PAY-lin," "PALL-in?" I felt bad that this woman could be our president some day and I couldn't even say her name. I asked Grandma. "I don't even know. Must be French or something."

Straight-Talk did the one thing we all counted on him not to do –surprise us.

I remember back to sophomore history class. It was then that our teacher Mr. Wright started to explain the gladiator arena known as election politics. He explained that Ohio was a key state in elections because we had so many people and we were one of the best sample demographics for the rest of the country. 

He called the last election, too. When the U.S. is in a war, he told us, people normally vote to keep the GOP. This is a pretty strong rule unless things are Vietnam-level bad. "The question," he said in his signature deep voice, "is how bad will Iraq be in 2008?"

Then he told us one day that the woman voting block could be unstoppable if they could all rally behind one person. And finally, he said when Congress can't seem to get anything done, the issue of experience versus fresh thinking comes into play and sometimes governors are strong candidates because they're not caught up in "Washington nonsense" and they're still executive branch people. Give them a couple terms to get the constitution revised…Schwarzenegger-Chuck Norris 2020.

In my inbox yesterday morning, I was greeted with Joe Biden letting me know the sprint to the White House was on, a handy video of him and Barack signing the nomination papers, and this line: "By the time you read this, we may even know who John McCain has chosen to be the next Dick Cheney."

I read further into The Plain Dealer article and Palin hard seems to fit that description. An ex-beauty pageant, spunky supermom governor from of Alaska who has a journalism degree and likes to hunt caribou in her free time, and –can I say this?- she's sort of a babe in a way.

I'm not saying she'll have my vote; what I'm saying is: "Wow. We've seen everything in this race." First we saw Nana Hilary and now Palin, well…she's like our best friend's mom; a constitutionalist like Ron Paul ran for the Republicans and now we've got take-the-fight-to-'em Biden as a running mate; then the contenders: Obama, a lofty-thinking black man, and McCain, a straight-talking vet from 'Nam who's just about as white as they come.  Nothing wrong with that; just saying.

By the end of the article, I couldn't help but wonder if John McCain had sit in one of Mr. Wright's classes. Palin's a strong female character, outside the slosh of Washington, with her own personal stake in the Iraq war, a son leaving this year.

As a voter, I don't know if I've been baptized by fire or just spoiled.

Let's get real, we are the hotspot for this next election: McCain had Palin come all the way to Dayton to appear with her for the first time and Obama-Biden went straight to Pittsburgh after the convention. Everybody says how much they want to leave dumpy old Ohio, but if living here means star-treatment lip service every four years and front row seats to the biggest change I expect in my lifetime, I could stay.

I wouldn't be surprised to go back to my high school and see an influx of "Wright 2012" signs in lockers.


Election '08: Why I'm Not a PoliSci Major

⊆ 7:16 PM by A. Liebendorfer | ˜ 0 comments »

If I was president
I'd get elected on Friday
Assassinated on Saturday
Buried on Sunday
They'd go back to work on Monday

-"President," Wyclef Jean





About a year ago, I turned eighteen. And what's so great about that? Cigars, rifles, and questionable movies of course! Oh yeah... and the draft and voting.

There's been a lot of sludge from this election mucking up the T.V. lately.


First, this:





Then, the very next commercial:






And during the next commercial break, the blockbuster:








For a lack of a better word, this is all petty crap. Absolute petty crap. First McCain makes up that Ayers crap (word of the day) about Obama. Obama then disproves that crap. Shit-move, McCain; Obama's the good guy. It happened so fast, it was almost in real-time. Come back after the news break and there's Barak Obama approving the next message and it's that classic one, "Seven," where Barak'n'roll bashes Johnny for owning seven houses (worth $13 million).

As part of a strung-out, tired bag-o-bones electorate that'll be spending the lesser of two evils come Election Day, I don't give... you're right, a crap.

Let's face it, we can only really go up next January. That's debatable but I think most people could agree on that if they had to. I'm not being apathetic; I'm only being honest. Both guys would do at least an OK job in the Oval Office. Aside from Mike Gravel, -God forgive me- Ron Paul, and a few others, any of the major contenders would do a good a job.

Now here's something none of us can argue: we've all only got one vote. Nothing gives me a bigger migraine than being around people who debate politics with no apparent goal. Emphasize your one vote all you want but if came down to you changing someone's mind and, say, venture capitalists trying make an elevator to the moon, my money's with the bimbos.

Well, the venture the capitalists.


Forethought

⊆ 7:06 PM by A. Liebendorfer | ˜ 1 comments »

"Forethought" seems like a worthwhile title to my first blog, no?  The irony I suppose is that being new to this blog thing, forethought is probably the thing I'm lacking most.  


All I can offer in the way of first blogs is a little bit of navigation.  Most of the titles in these posts will come in two parts: a category, a colon, and the title.  You've probably noticed that that would be three parts not two, but since it's very difficult to represent an actual colon in a blog post, we'll use the punctuation mark. :^)