BillSaysThis

This morning at the gym, one of the TVs on the wall in front of me was tuned to Good Morning America and so I watched a sad attempt by the new Treasury Secretary, John Snow, to promote the Bush plan for the economy. You know, the one with all the giveaways to the rich, including making dividend payments tax-free to the recipient (albeit only when the payments come out of actual profits), that most economists think is worse than ridiculous.

The one that will send our already-spiraling budget deficit through the roof, which is why so many CEO’s, who you’d think would generally benefit from the plan, are taking such a Dim View of it instead. Alan Greenspan and his pals at the Federal Reserve aren’t too hot on the plan either in light of the sad shape the economy is in.

Snow, formerly CEO of a huge transportation company who often spoke out against deficit spending when Clinton was president, tried to duck that hypocrisy while speaking with Diane Sawyer but could only come up with a non-responsive obfuscation instead. Particularly when she asked him about the effect of a war with Iraq on the economy. Later in the day, testifying at a congressional committee, Snow continued his claim that fears of deficits were way overblown and, anyway, it isn’t the fault of his administration since any surpluses people spoke about two years ago were fantasies of the outgoing administration. Sad what we got ourselves into based on a few hanging chads, isn’t it?

Giving to a charity? Wouldn’t you like to know that most of the money actually goes to the charity? I know I would. Seems like many charities don’t really want you to find out that they sometimes pay over 80% over the donated money to the firm hired to do the soliciations. And, in a case argued before the US Supreme Court this morning, apparently they have a First Amendment right not to tell us.

Yes, we all want to know about our givernment’s successes in the War on Terror. The more of them, and the sooner such events transpire, the better. Sometimes, though, I wonder about why information is released when secrecy, at least for a while longer, would make a big difference in the overall value of the victory.

This weekend’s capture of Khalid Shaikh Mohammed in Rawalpindi is such an instance. Along with the man who is allegedly the chief operations officer for Al Qaeda, the arresting team scooped up computers, cell phones, and other materials apparently containing a good deal of current information on the outlaw crew’s plans and resources.

In contrast, Attorney General Ashcroft only today announced that German authorities arrested another key terror leader, Sheik Mohammed Ali Hasan al-Moayad, back in January.

So why did the more significant arrest get plastered all over the world’s news media before the government could decipher and analyze, much less act on, what they found? I suppose the only real answer is that this arrest was not a quiet affair and those most directly affected by it would know anyway. Still, if the team tracking Mohammed was a little more clever, you have to think they could have arranged to take him in secrecy and make the arrest even more effective in the long run.

In the extensive, detailed essay 2003 And Beyond, Andrew Grygus surveys the business computing scene and discovers that it’s all about Microsoft. PC makers such as HP, Gateway, and even Dell are on a death spiral: Microsoft is already showing the intent to sell MS-branded home computing machines with XBox, XBox2, and Home Gateway. Most software publishers are dead or will die within five years: Microsoft is slowly but surely expanding into all parts of the market. High end hardware and software and applications that require extensive customization may escape from the Redmond hug in the medium term but if BillG’s crew continues to succeed eventually they’ll get up there too.

All is not hopeless. Microsoft faces challenges in getting where this picture leads. There are Linux, Apache, and the rest of the open source packages which organizations are turning to in increasing numbers, enough that MS has now cited it as a top competitive threat in SEC filings. There is significant resistance to its latest licensing plan. There is even the possibility that stagnant core market growth and continued arrogant behavior will trip them up.

This is a very long essay and some parts seem pasted in from older essays, but probably worth the read if you want to look at our business from a different perspective.

[via Winterspeak]

John Belushi. I remember driving on Sunset Boulevard the afternoon he passed away, hearing the news when I was only blocks from the hotel where it happened. He was amazing with physical comedy and wordplay. But romantic comedy was just too much of a stretch for him, in the years when he was still hitting the booze and drugs so hard; maybe if he’d lived another 15 or 20 years he would have grown into it but we’ll never know. I always think of Bill Murray’s film from the same period, The Razor’s Edge, when Continental Divide comes up.

So 1981’s Continental Divide was not the great leap forward he probably hope for. Blair Brown was beautiful and well-suited to the part of the nature nut love interest. Belushi played Ernie Souchak, a Chicago newspaper columnist, who needs to get out of town in a hurry and heads to the Rockies to try and get the inside story on Brown’s ornithologist. He goes nuts in the wild, misses his cigarettes, comes on to her to a negative reception, but then charms her by hurting his back and getting attacked by a mountain lion. They fall in love but his time on the mountain is up and he returns to the city. Boo hoo. She comes to the city for a lecture, they have wild sex and can’t say goodbye. Woo hoo. Neither can stand living where the other does but they get married anyway and then go home alone. Huh?

Mildly recommended

Roger Corman made many forgettable movies. Many. But some were worth watching and 1979’s Rock ‘n’ Roll High School was surely one of them. Corman films never have any budget to speak of but in RRHS he got a terrific mix of the Ramones (the concert scene has four of their songs alone), PJ Soles, Clint Howard, Mary Woronov and Paul Bartel in a 20 years behind the times story. By the late ’70s, adults were no longer trying to ban rock music but that doesn’t matter to the three directors and six writers who put this farce together.

Bartel and Woronov are most notable for the indie classic Eating Raoul. The Ramones, of course, went on to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Howard appears in many of his brother’s films, and Soles never got the stardom she deserved, though she has been happily married since 1984.

Recommended

Ice Cube and Mike Epps make an attempt to step up in class in last year’s All About The Benjamins. An action/comedy about a bounty hunter (Cube) hooking up with a small time con man (Epps) who get in the middle of a $20 million diamond heist while trying to retrieve the winning ticket for a $60 million lottery. Other than the fact that the leads here are Black, I don’t see how the movie is any better than your standard Brian Bosworth/Julie Strain straight to video effort. And with Strain at least viewers get to ogle her awesome body.

Not worth the 90 minutes

Today marks six months on the diet for me and the Sweet One. I’m proud to report that we’ve both been keeping to the straight and narrow and that we believe in the Atkins as a healthy way to manage our food, so we will keep on it for a long time to come. Multivitamins, calcium, glucosamine and condroitin pills. Generally four workouts a week at the gym.

Mornings are pretty standard: two hard boiled eggs or two egg omelette plus an Atkins blueberry muffin, with two or three slices of bacon added on the weekends; occasionally pancakes or french toast instead, with low carb maple syrup. I make a batch of the muffins once a week. Lunch is leftover meat or lunch meat plus a salad. I usually have two Atkins bars a day, Chocolate Mocha Crunch or the new Smores flavors, while Vivian prefers the Endulge Caramel Nut Chews and sesame seeds.

Dinners are usually terrific. Meat runs every five or six weeks to Costco supplemented with the occasional fresh shrimp or piece of veal keep us stocked and we rotate chicken thighs, whole chickens, ground beef, steaks, pork chops, pork or beef ribs, steaks, sole, salmon, and, the newest addition, catfish. Plus visits to In’n’Out (like last night) for a double-double protein style and otherwise rarely eat out.

We pick up fresh veggies for sides at the Mountain View Farmer’s Market on Sundays or at the supermarkets weekdays: spinach, bok choy, string beans, brocolli (steamed, sauteed, or even pureed), zuccini, or asparagus, once in a while sauteed mushrooms and onions. As the good doctor (Atkins, that is) says, lots of garlic.

How much weight have we lost? I shouldn’t–won’t–say about TS1, two things one doesn’t ask are a woman’s age or weight, but I’ve lost 39 pounds. Still a long way to go to 170 but I’m encouraged and motivated. Our wedding is only 70 days away!

You did watch Bruce and the E Street Army on CBS tonight, didn’t you?

Fresh off the amazing original movie version of La Femme Nikita, Luc Besson wrote and directed Leon (released in America in 1994 as The Professional), a film about a naive but effective Mafia killer and the 12 year old girl he briefly adopts. This has long been a favorite of mine, not only for the performances by Jean Reno and Natalie Portman as the title character and the child, but for the way in which Besson puts a huge amount of blood and violence on screen and makes you only pay attention to his characters.

Portman’s father is a slimy man, a minor functionary in the drug business, who runs afoul of dirty DEA Agent Gary Oldman. Michael Badalucco has tried to cut himself in on a bagful of drugs he’s holding for Oldman and when he refuses to return the missing portion, the DEA agent and his crew murder the family. Fortunately Portman’s Mathilda is out buying milk for Leon, who lives in the next apartment, when all this goes down. Reno has no desire, even seems to fear, getting involved by allowing Portman into his apartment while the cops are cleaning up their mess. But he does.

Leon is a naif, a grown man imported from Italy to do the bidding of a Don played by Danny Aiello. He can’t read and doesn’t realize that all the money he believes has been earned through his past wet work will never leave Aiello’s hands. But Mathilda awakens the human being inside a lifeless husk, teaching Leon to read while he teaches her his profession. All she wants is revenge for the murder of her sweet four year old brother. In the end, after she and Leon fight off and kill massive numbers of heavily armed lawmen, Mathilda gets her wish at a heavy price.

There are times when Besson seems to take the movie towards a paen to child love. Portman is clearly prepubescent while some of the looks Leon gives her are more than fatherly and this is echoed in the way the camera captures her as well. Yet he is too much the innocent to be guilty of more than simply forgetting his own age and just wants to protect this precious gift, someone who has offered him more affection than ever been given before.

Highly Recommended

[Interior. Late night. The only light comes from a computer monitor on a desk in the corner.]

[Sound effects] Faint helicopter blades, quickly growing louder, indicating imminent arrival. As they close in, sounds resolve into three separate choppers setting down. Followed by gravel crunching under a large number of black wingtip shoes spreading around the house.[/Sound effects]

Glass and wood explode into the house as dark suited men race in through the doors and windows. One of them slams a set of neatly stapled papers on the desk in front of a cowering man.

[Dark Suit] You thought this was acceptable? You thought we would just take your…your lies and swallow whole?

[Computer Man] I…I…I’m sorry, I didn’t realize… I just wanted to make sure my family and I got decent medical insurance

Hollywood loves to spin fantastic tales and we go to the theaters in droves to watch them. Sometimes, though, a film hits closer to the truth than anyone expected. As my father said after reviewing the information that prompted me to write this, “Sounds like Big Brother is already here.”

Just who is Big Brother and and why do I say that medical privacy doesn’t exist? Take a gander at an outfit named Medical Information Bureau, or MIB, The Insurance Buyer´s “Advocate” as they call themselves in big type at the top of their homepage. Of course, they do enclose the word advocate in quotation marks, which is probably a good thing since it is only responsible to the insurance companies that own, operate, and make use of it. And have for the 101 years since its inception.

What does MIB do? It collects data on doctor and hospital visits and prescriptions from the insurance claims made. The records are used to evaluate any application you make for life or medical insurance policies. Now that a bunch of Sun Alumni (including myself) have or are coming to the end of our COBRA coverage, we’re finding this comes into play. Allegedly the MIB report is not to be used as the sole means of evaluating applications but who knows if this is . Trying to sneak through the application’s requirement that you list your medical history in excruciating detail to qualify?

Don’t bother because they’ll find out anyway and just make you look bad. Of course, like any other human endeavor, the MIB is subject to errors. Until the government forced them, though, they wouldn’t admit this simple fact and allow plain old consumers a chance to review and correct their own dossier. Even if you could avoid this scrutiny, think about what that would say to a potential insurer (or other user of this data); consider the parallel situation of trying to get credit–a mortgage, a credit card, and auto loan–if there’s no file on you at Equifax et al. Just not gonna happen.

You think, Hey, the law protects me and my privacy! What about doctor-patient confidentiality? Movies and TV shows certainly use this plot point often enough to drive it into our collective consciousness. Guess what, you sign that right away nearly every time you sign up with a new doctor (the so-called blanket waivers) or apply for insurance. And whenever our beloved corporations deem it useful, they’ll get an exemption (from antitrust or privacy concerns) written in as a never-debated amendment during some dark of night, get the damn bill done already committee session.

And it gets worse. Even though MIB claims that only insurance companies have access to their data, increasingly insurance companies are part of a larger financial conglomerate and presumably the bank owned by the same corporation can get into the system this way. So when you apply for that 30 year mortgage the bank can factor in the risk of you not living that long. One story, possibly apocryphal, tells of a banker in Boston who called in loans on all his customers who had diagnoses of cancer. Pretty slimy, but not illegal yet, though one wonders how else, other than through the MIB (or another group just like it), the banker could know which customers have cancer.

Now the nice folks in the PR department at the Medical Information Bureau have their own spin on this and, since their professionals, the spin sounds good at least at first. The core rationale seems to be along the lines of “Why should honest people, who report all their illnesses, injuries, and prescriptions, pay more for insurance than the dishonest folks who want to sneak passed the underwriters?” Fair is fair, after all, and we all should pay–or be allowed to buy–insurance based on the truth of our medical history.

I have a feeling that most Americans (and Canadians, since MIB is at work there too) would not feel that opening their medical history kimono to all and sundry is justified on this basis. How about you? Are you comfortable knowing that for $9.00, anyone who knows a few simple facts about you can get a copy of your MIB record?

Lamont and Tonelli, the annoying new morning DJs on 107.7 The Bone, were commenting on last night’s interview of Robert Blake by Barbara Walters. The allegedly funny duo made a joke that Blake would be starring in the next round of The Bachelor, of course with large and dangerous men incarcerated with him as the potential mates. Terrific joke. Still, they did make me think and I realized that as far as I know, none of the many dating shows currently on air (Blind Date, Taildaters, whatever) has featured a same sex couple or competition. Why not have a gay version of The Bachelorette? I mean, I don’t watch any of these shows, they’re all just excruciating, but fair’s fair. Somewhere around ten percent of Americans are gay or lesbian and why shouldn’t they get a chunk of the humiliation TV is passing around to us heteros?

The skies are grey outside, I’m down in the dumps, but then something comes along to bring me up. On the last leg of the Morning Coffee Stroll, I see some odd motion off to the left. Looking over, I see a young (maybe late teens/early 20s) guy spinning a young woman around and around in the middle of the side street! He’s holding her around the waist and going around and around, they’re both smiling. Even when he stops, they are holding hands, putting arms around each other, even smiling as they notice me, 50 feet away, noticing them. I kept walking, didn’t want to intrude on their moment of happiness to ask, but I wonder what their good news was–did they just get engaged? As I moved out of sight, the last image was of them in a big passionate kiss. Brought a big ol’ smile to my face.

OMG! I don’t know which is funnier, this article or the “meal” it is about! Don’t read the article immediately before or after you plan on eating. And by immediately I mean, oh, 24 hours. And, as one of the commentators in the MetaFilter thread put it: “It’s probably even worse than pictured – most of those big hungry men put butter on their pancakes …” If there was such a thing, this product would be instantly entered into the Anti-Atkins Hall of Fame, no five year waiting period necessary.

I’ve previously mentioned William Gibson’s latest novel, Pattern Recognition, as a book I look forward to reading. Which is still an event that will occur in the future. But I do want to bring your attention to the latest Excessive Candour column by John Clute in Sci-Fi Weekly, titled The Case of the World.

Clute, an accomplished writer about science fiction, doesn’t just review the novel–he does give it high marks as a worthy read–but stakes a claim that Gibson’s novel is “SF for the new century.” Fiction acknowledging that change is so deeply embedded in our world that a writer can no longer posit a future based on an evolution from the present, as was possible until the last ten or 20 years. My take on this is that we must really be getting close to The Singularity as described by another great SF writer, Vernor Vinge, if life is becoming so unpredictable that the future is so opaque. Great essay!

Let’s see, so far we have card stock for the invitations, a wonderful friend to perform the ceremony, a promise from my family to be here, and a possible date (in June). We have a best man and a maid of honor. Looking for a beautiful place to have our small yet elegant affair is next on the to do list. How about Hakone Gardens in Saratoga, Hornblower Cruises in San Francisco (actually in San Francisco Bay) or the Hotel DeAnza in San Jose?

I will even break down and buy a brand new suit since I don’t own even one any more, though I really dislike wearing them–that’s one of the great things about working and living out in Silicon Valley. Something dark and tasteful, of course, with a nice red stripe tie. Vivian is gown shopping a week from Saturday. Flowers and a photographer, hmm. She’s in the bedroom now, talking long distance to the maid of honor about all the details.

These and more must be investigated, planned, and put in place. The Sweet One is excited and anxious but I’m confident we can do this and do it well, have an amazing special day. And then spend the rest of our lives loving each other as much–or more–than we do today. Looby, hunnay!

The results were released at midnight EST. Sadly, they don’t appear to be very good. The key fact: “The reduction of infection among the entire sample of volunteers, including all racial groups, was 3.8%.” The effect apparently was much stronger on black and Asian minorities but you have to figure that the stock will open under $8 tomorrow morning. Damn!

Update, 7:40 a.m. PST: Current indications are that the stock, currently held by NASDAQ from opening, will first trade right around $5.80-6.00.

Even the tattooed rockers applauded for Paul Simon and Art Garfunkle after the duo opened the 45th Grammy Awards with The Sounds of Silence. A compelling performance, just their still sweet vocals over Paul’s acoustic guitar. Nearly 40 years since this song came out but it will never get old. Dustin Hoffman, though, will and has.

Conversely, No Doubt are not really good at all and their popularity simply escapes me. Gwen is hot (but flat, the Sweet One said her shirt was more like a band-aid!) but that can’t explain it. So of course they won the Grammy for Best Pop Song by a Duo or Group with Vocals immediately after I wrote the last two sentences.

Norah Jones kind of grows on you. Not really my thing but at least I can understand the appeal. And her dad is Ravi Shankar (I think, though her official bio doesn’t mention the word father), so she has the genes. Is this like a trend, performing then winning the next award? Is Faith Hill nominated in the next category?

Who is Vanessa Carleton and why is she playing now? John Mayer sounds like he swallowed Dave Matthews and burped out Matthews’ yodelish vocal quality; I certainly don’t find him any more interesting than DMB. The real deal, James Taylor, is up now and a treat dueting with cellist Yo-Yo Ma on Sweet Baby James: “Deep greens and blues for the colors I choose, can’t you let me go down in my dreams? Oh rockabye Sweet Baby James.” Mayer got the Best Male Pop Vocal award over James, stupid voters.

Eminem for Best Rap Vocal makes sense, he’s one of the few rappers I can stomach. Then again I’m not the target demographic for rap (or No Doubt) anyway.

We need to go into the bedroom and watch the rest now. Explain to me why CBS is not showing this program live on the West Coast?

Dixie Chicks–ain’t it cool the way the video water turned all kinds of purple?–and of course they won the Best Country Album right after. What would Lindsay Buckingham think (WWLBT)?

Why does throwing in a little dissonence make Coldplay’s music ambitious? Avril Lavigne, meet Alanis Morrisette, note that you have one more decent selling record to go before fading into the woodwork. And that mosh pit, please, how put on was that?

In listing the awards given off-air, Bruce Springsteen won the best rock song, best male rock vocal performance, and rock album awards for The Rising and the title song. Oh yeah. The performance of the song shows just how much like an army the E Street Band is nowadays. Army, get it?

Eminem, I liked that song. Really pounding, really creative. NSync, enjoyed the tribute to the BeeGees. But Aretha, what’s up with the dress? You and Harvey Fierstein should have a conversation on choosing what to wear to an awards show! The Joe Strummer tribute was wild and raucus, like Strummer, with Springsteen Steve Van Zandt, Dave Grohl, and Elvis Costello blasting away in front of No Doubt’s bassist and drummer. Would have really liked a second song from these guys (and another from Simon & Garfunkle as well)–could have easily skipped that dude from the Academy and Mayor Bloomberg.

Last but certainly outrageous, how did Norah Jones beat out Springsteen and Eminem for Album of the Year? Pap jazz against real rock and roll, who votes on this?

I know, it’s only 12.5 hours until the big announcement on the trial results. Are they good, are they bad, are they outstanding? I don’t know. But I hate this kind of waiting. And the news media, just doing their jobs and not to be blamed, are only making things worse by running stories saying the announcement is coming tomorrow. A big strawberry on the Mercury News, though, for running a front page story yesterday that’s heavily slanted to the negative! Bill is just not a good waiter, I get the same way when almost any big news is pending, just haven’t learned to live with it.

This movie was incredible but there was something that held me up from writing it up until after seeing it a second time–you don’t really think I waited two months to see The Two Towers, did you? Of course you didn’t.

For those very foolish few who haven’t seen it, The Two Towers is the middle film in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, based on the books by J.R.R. Tolkien. The fellowship of nine, formed in the first movie, has been broken and scattered and in these three hours we follow them in three groups. Frodo and Sam have crossed into the lands of Mordor, home of the dark lord Sauron, and are making their way to Mount Duim where they will attempt to destroy the One Ring and with it Sauron’s power. Sauron, in league with the corrupted wizard Saruman, is sending his legions and minions into the lands of Men and Elves not only to find the Ring and return it to him but to conquer and destroy them once and for all.

Merry and Pippin were captured by Saruman’s Uruk Hai-led band of marauders, who killed Boromir during the same confrontation. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are tracking them, hoping to free them. Gandolf is missing, presumed dead, after battling the Balrog in the mines of Moria. All three paths seem hopeless, the path for Frodo and Sam through the black lands trackless, Aragorn’s Elf love Arwen is begged by her father to forsake Middle Earth and join the Elven trek to the Undying Lands across the sea.

The acting highlights in TTT are Andy Serkis as Gollum/Smeagle, Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn, and Miranda Otto as Eowyn, honorable mention to Brad Dourif as Grima Wormtongue. Serkis campaigned for a Best Supporting Actor nomination but apparently the Academy wouldn’t allow it; after all, though we hear his voice we never see his face. He had to perform each of his scenes twice, once on the sets with the other actors and a second time alone in front of a blue screen in a special suit with many sensors attached to capture his motion, then the computer specialists replaced Serkis’ image with Gollum’s.

Later in the day I watched Speed on TV and the comparison of Keanu Reeves and Mortensen was very instructive. Reeves was clearly aiming for the subtle, contained energy style of action hero but only Mortensen pulled it off. Consider the scene where the latter pushes open the doors of Theoden’s hall after he is thought lost in battle against Reeves’ entrance into the underground passageway where Sandra Bullock has retrieved Dennis Hopper’s money. Also interesting is the difference in performance by Otto and Liv Tyler’s Arwen; Otto is much more believable in her range than Tyler.

The most amazing work of all, though, is by Peter Jackson who co-wrote the screenplay and directed this monumental effort. Looking at the list of movies that will be released this year, and knowing that there will be many more to come, I will say now that if he does not get the Best Director Oscar (and Return of the King Best Picture) then those awards are a farce. There have been plenty of 150 minute plus films and most of them have long dragging sections, but not here, not even if I consider both LotR films as one. The creativity he’s brought to the visualization and staging of such a complex story as well: Gollum!, Treebeard and the other Ents, the city of Edoras (capital of Rohan) perched high on the mountain, the evil of Orthanc and the pits of Isengard and Barad-dur behind the Black Gates, the Keep at Helm’s Deep and the massive army that assaults it, down to such tiny details as the bodies under water in the Dead Marshes and the blinding light accompanying Gandolf’s return.

The whole thing struck me as very Shakespearean. Epic scale, mad kings, a reluctant return to a throne, romance between feuding families, small people caught up in great events. Many people, writing when TTT was released in December, claimed the whole thing was an attempt to back America’s warmongering but that seems so ridiculous on even the slghtest of examinations for two simple points: nearly the whole cast (plus the director) has come out against war and the scripts were written in the 1998/99 timeframe and principle production took place in 1999/2000! This absurdity reflects the similar controversy that arose when the books were published in the years after World War II as many commentators framed Aragorn, Gandolf, and Frodo as the Allies and Sauron/Saruman as Germany and Japan. But Tolkien rejected that because of course he was commenting on the way modern industry was crushing the last remnants of the rural English life he held so dear. Seriously.

Only 297 days until the release of Return of the King!

Absolutely recommended!