For all you naysayers out there…

…on the Gentoo server today

se1:~ tacit$ uptime
12:01 up 697 days, 58 mins, 6 users, load averages: 0.4 0.2 0.1
se1:~ tacit$

Call to the Lazyweb: PHP programming

I’m nearly finished with a rather radical overhaul of the Map of Human Sexuality, and one of the things I thought would be cool to do with it would be to make it interactive.

What I’d like to be able to do is to place it on a Web page, then allow folks to stick push pins in it by clicking or dragging on it. Ideally, folks could also, if they wanted, save it with a name/password, and be able to link to their version of it.

What I have: PHP, Perl (though I’d prefer PHP), mySQL. I know there must already be code floating around out there somewhere that does the heavy lifting (records mouse clicks, places a graphic of a pin over another graphic, saves the array of pin locations in a database), so it’s be pretty silly to code it all from scratch. Plus, y’know, I’m not sure my PHP chops are up to it.

But I’m not finding anything.

Anyone know of any open source code or libraries that might be useful?

The Stupification of a Generation…

…or, how to learn to stop worrying and love teh pr0n.

There’s an article that went up on Newsweek’s site this week about a book. The book is about porn, or more specifically “The Pornification Of A Generation.”

Now, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that we’re a country that is, not to put too fine a point on it, deeply fucked-up about sex. We are simultaneously awash in sexual imagery and hopelessly sexually repressed, and that tension doesn’t make for healthy attitudes about porn OR sex.

I haven’t read the book that the article talks about, so I don’t know if the book is as badly written, but the article seems to make a lot of unwarranted assumptions and unsupported conclusions. It also uses a lot of over-the-top, emotionally manipulative language (like “I realized porn culture and I were in a death match for my daughter’s soul”), and it’s DEFINITELY been my experience that you can’t really expect reasoned, measured investigation of a complex subject from folks who talk this way.

If you look at the way the article cloaks a lot of hidden assumptions in its use of language…well, let’s just say it sets off my baloney detector1. It doesn’t take long, either; the second paragraph of the article begins “In a market that sells high heels for babies and thongs for tweens, it doesn’t take a genius to see that sex, if not porn, has invaded our lives. Whether we welcome it or not, television brings it into our living rooms and the Web brings it into our bedrooms.”

It’s reasonable to say that porn is more accessible at this point than it has been in the past, but to say that it comes into our lives and into our bedrooms “whether we welcome it or not” is simply stupid. It’s not like “porn” is sitting somewhere inside the Internet with the magical ability to leap through your computer or TV set and, I don’t know, wave naked pictures of Angelina Jolie in front of your face or invade France or something. I personally don’t have that big a taste for porn, and if I don’t particularly feel like seeing any, I don’t. No magic involved; I just don’t go to porn Web sites or watch “Debby Does Dozens XXXVI” on the DVD player unless I…

…actually want to. You know?

Anyway, the article then goes on to say, “But it isn’t just sex that Scott is worried about. He’s more interested in how we, as a culture, often mimic the most raunchy, degrading parts of it—many of which, he says, come directly from pornography. In “The Porning of America” (Beacon), which he has written with colleague Carmine Sarracino, a professor of American literature, the duo argue that, through Bratz dolls and beyond, the influence of porn on mainstream culture is affecting our self perceptions and behavior—in everything from fashion to body image to how we conceptualize our sexuality.”

Which misses the point so spectacularly that if there was an award for point-missing kind of like the Oscars, with actresses in ten-thousand-dollar dresses and limos parked around the block and so on, this guy would be strutting his stuff on the red carpet like Paris Hilton on a bender.

See, here’s the thing. People are interested in and curious about sex; it kind of, err, goes with being human. Basic biological drive, y’know? And we live in a culture that is so repressed about sex that we refuse to even talk about it, yet at the same time we hook into this basic biological drive in advertising and marketing and media, because, well, it works.

So yeah, we’re surrounded by sexualized imagery, but we refuse to talk about it openly. So we create a social environment where kids grow up in a vacuum; the grownups won’t talk to them about sex, the parents are too embarrassed and ashamed to talk about sex, and they’re surrounded by sexual images without any sort of context. Y’think that might get confusing?

This confusion isn’t the fault of the imagery; it’s the fault of chickenshit grownups who refuse to have a grown-up conversation about sex. When you create an environment that says sex is fun and enticing and then you treat the entire topic with a deep, red-faced shame, people are going to get fucked in the head.

And that’s the most reasonable part of the article. The rest of it is like an inverted version of those stories your grandfather told you as a kid; no matter where you go from there, it’s downhill. In the snow. Both ways.

The red-carpet bender continues with this little gem: “All you have to do is live here on a daily basis, and you pick this stuff up through every medium,” says Sarracino, who teaches at Pennsylvania’s Elizabethtown College. “But it’s been so absorbed that it has almost ceased to exist as something separate from the culture.”

Attitudes about sex and sexuality are one of the defining aspects of culture. “Culture” in this context is the tastes, attitudes, ideas, and beliefs that are shared by a society. A shared set of ideas about sex doesn’t exist as something separate from a culture? Thank you, Captain Obvious, for illuminating THAT with a harsh white light that will shine as a beacon of knowledge for generations. You may go now.

OF COURSE sexual attitudes don’t exist as something “separate from the culture.” That’s what culture is. What the captain here is trying to say is something different: namely, that cultural ideas and taboos about sex are changing. And they are. That’s absolutely correct.

But then, wait, it gets better. The very next sentence is this: “The prevalence or porn leaves today’s children with a lot of conflicting ideas and misconceptions, says Lyn Mikel Brown, the coauthor of “Packaging Girlhood,” about marketers’ influence on teen girls. “All this sex gives a misinformed notion of what it means to be grown-up.””

Y’think? I wonder why that is. Could it be that, oh, I don’t know, we’re not giving kids any sort of framing or context in which to place and understand this sexual imagery? Could it be that grownups won’t talk to kids about sex, grownups won’t be honest and direct about sex, and so kids end up inventing their own context? Might it be, just maybe, that if we as a society weren’t so goddamn hung up on having sex, selling sex, depicting sex, and doing everything under the sun except TALKING ABOUT sex, that kids would find it easier to put sex into context?

Take something that people really, really want to do, because it’s fun and it feels good and they have genes that make doing it something of an imperative. Spend a tremendous amount of time perfecting the art of depicting this thing until it’s honed to a razor-fine edge. Surround people with it, and then whenever they ask you about it, snatch it away and tell them they should feel ashamed. Rinse and repeat, oh, I don’t know, thirty or forty thousand times. Think they’ll end up with misinformed notions about what it is? Really? Who knew?

“The authors of “So Sexy So Soon” (Ballantine), which came out last month, believe that part of the problem for children is that they lack the emotional sophistication to understand the images they see.” Yeah. You know why they lack that emotional sophistication? Because we’re so goddamned obsessed with treating children like they’re little china dolls or something that we refuse to give them that emotional sophistication. We deliberately, with the resolution of a Muslim suicide bomber, make goddamn well and sure that kids don’t get the tools they need to understand the images they see, and not only that, we teach them that it’s shameful to even try.

Then we tell them that if they’re not good in the sack, they’re not good people.

YOU try to figure that one out.

“Last year, the American Psychological Association put out a compelling report that described the sexualization of young girls: a process that entails being stripped of all value except the sexual use to which they might be put. Once they subscribe to that belief, say some psychologists, those girls begin to self-objectify—with consequences ranging from cognitive problems to depression and eating disorders.” Mmm-hmm. And this is the fault of who, exactly? Pornographers who kick down the door and wave nudie pictures around in the living room whether we want it or not? Magazines that have learned that making girls feel bad about themselves is a devastatingly effective marketing hook? Parents who fel that their greatest duty as the guardians of society is to ensure that the next generation of bright young people grows up as ashamed and conflicted about sex and sexuality as they are?

My money’s on numbers two and three. I’ve never had anyone force porn into my home against my will. Maybe it’s the lock on the door, I don’t know. Or maybe it’s because nobody is FORCING anything on anyone.

“It’s the porn ideal of sex as commodity in a competitive market—and to see rapper Nelly swipe a credit card through a young girl’s backside in a music video only reaffirms that notion. It’s artificiality as a replacement for authenticity.”

No, it’s adults who are scared to death of authenticity, who leave their children to figure out what all this means because Heaven knows that teaching kids how to understand all of this in context is just way too much to ask.

Listen, this should be obvious. The world is a big and confusing place. Part of a parent’s job is teaching the skills that a child needs in order to learn to make sense of it. That’s what adults do. When we as a society abdicate this responsibility, we can hardly go crying about the results.

1 Carl Sagan, in the book The Demon Haunted World, sets out a list of cognitive tools he describes as a “Baloney Detection Kit.” It’s a great set of tools for spotting flim-flam or sloppy reasoning, and I highly recommend this book.

Call to the Lazyweb

Surely there’s someone on my flist with knowledge of taxes and corporate employment:

The company I work with, and in which I’m a minority partner, is starting to make noises that they want me in the office religiously from 9 AM to 5 PM. Now, they’ve made noises like this in the past, which I’ve largely ignored, but the noises they’re making these days are getting louder and more damaging to my calm.

Last year, I was paid on a 1099. I’m not an accountant, but my understanding is that an independent contractor isn’t considered an independent contractor if the folks paying him control when he is on premises and/or how he does his job; legally, or so I believe, under those circumstances a person is considered to be an “employee” and is paid on a W-2.

I’m also told that the IRS takes a very dim view of folks who label people “independent contractors” when they are actually “employees,” and that there’s a certain amount of hot water that awaits such folks. That being the case, it’d seem I have a degree of…leverage in maintaining a certain level of flexibility with regard to when I am and am not in the office, particularly in light of the fact that they still owe me money as it is.

So what’s the scoop? I know someone out there must be up on this stuff.

Right place, right time

I’ve always been a fan of William Shakespeare, who really is very good in spite of all the people who say he really is very good (unlike, for example, F. Scott Fitzgerald, who really is pretty mediocre in spite of all the people who say he really is very good).

I can’t help but think, though, that the characters Hamlet and Othello were not tragic figures so much as people in the wrong place at the wrong time. Both plays would be quite different if those two characters merely switched places.

See, the deal with Hamlet is that he overthinks everything, whereas the deal with Othello is that he’s rash and quick to judgement. Hamlet would never for even half a second have been fooled by Iago, whereas Othello would never for even half a second put up with his mom shagging his dad’s murderer.

So. What would the plays look like if we swapped them around?

Othello Act III, Scene iii

IAGO: I do not like the office:
But, sith I am enter’d in this cause so far,
Prick’d to’t by foolish honesty and love,
I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately;
And, being troubled with a raging tooth,
I could not sleep.
There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs:
One of this kind is Cassio:
In sleep I heard him say ‘Sweet Desdemona,
Let us be wary, let us hide our loves;’
And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
Cry ‘O sweet creature!’ and then kiss me hard,
As if he pluck’d up kisses by the roots
That grew upon my lips: then laid his leg
Over my thigh, and sigh’d, and kiss’d; and then
Cried ‘Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!’

HAMLET: You know, you actually had me going there for a minute. But seriously, you are so full of shit. See, I actually talked to Cassio after that deal in the garden, and you know what? I totally don’t believe you.

DESDEMONA: Dude, you rock.

Hamlet is even shorter after we do the swap.

HAMLET Act I, Scene ii

QUEEN GERTRUDE: Good Othello, cast thy nighted colour off,1
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
Do not for ever with thy vailed lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
Thou know’st ’tis common; all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.

OTHELLO: Look, Mom. Look…er, Dad. This is ridiculous. Sorry, but I’m afraid I have to cut your heads off now.

(OTHELLO draws his sword, cuts off GERTRUDE’S HEAD and CLAUDIUS’ HEAD.)

THE GHOST: Dude, you rock.

1 This line becomes even funnier when you consider that Othello is a Moor.

Brain chemistry, books, and breasts…

…a post brought to you by the letter “B”.

First, brain chemistry.

I have weird sleeping habits. I have always had weird sleeping habits. I’m most wide awake about eleven or twelve o’clock at night, and when the sun starts to come up, that’s when I start to crash. My body appears quite fixed on this quixotic schedule; I adapt quit quickly when I travel across time zones, and end up on the same sleeping cycle.

It’s really inconvenient. In fact, in high school, the only way I survived was to sleep in shifts; I’d go to sleep for a few hours right after getting home, wake up about 8 PM, stay up ’til 2 or 3, then go to sleep again for a few hours.

At one point when i was a kid, my parents actually took me to a doctor about it. He claims that while most people can alter their normal sleep/wake cycles just by changing the time that they get up or go to bed, there is a small minority of the human population for whom the Circadian rhythm is simply fixed and won’t budge, and that’s that.

That’s not the interesting bit; that’s just the background. The interesting bit is what happens when you mess with brain chemistry.

See, I have a new doctor. And when I went in to see him for the first time, I talked to him about my weird sleep schedule. And he, being apparently a practical jokester,decided he’d prescribe Ambien to me, to see if it’d sledgehammer my sleep schedule to something a bit more normal.

Folks, Ambien is some seriously scary shit.

A lot of folks have some pretty bizarre side effects. i didn’t get the really strange ones, like sleep amnesia (which is a pity, because I think it’d be fun to play with in a BDSM context–wake up one morning curled up next to my partner, with bruises all over my body and a pile of sex toys scattered around the bed, and with absolutely no memory of what happened until she handed me the videotape…but I digress.)

What I did get was a complete, radical overhaul of my internal perceptions of hunger.

See, for the most part, I’ve never really felt hungry. I mean, sure, if I go for a long time without eating, I’d get all shaky and stuff, and then I’d think “Oh yeah! I haven’t eaten in seven hours. Reckon I might want to see to that.”

But it’s never been intrusive, you know? Like, it’s never been something that I get all “OMG I can’t concentrate if I don’t eat RIGHT NOW.” And for the most part, that’s how I like my biological needs…non-intrusive. I resent them as it is; to have them pressing on me all the time, demanding to be taken care of, would just be awful.

But a week after I started on Ambien, I started waking up at 4 AM starving. I mean, in a very literal sense, hungry like I have never experienced hunger before. I’m talking like “I am so starving that if I don’t eat right this minute NOW DAMMIT NOW I am going to DIE.” For the first time in my entire life, I have an appreciation for what the phrase “hunger pains” actually means.

And I’d try to eat, but couldn’t, because…well, I wasn’t really hungry. It was a strictly internal, brain-chemistry thing.

And it was miserable. So much so that I quit taking the Ambien.

Now, three months later, my sense of hunger is still distorted. I stopped waking up with phantom hunger. Bu my perception of hunger is still much stronger and sharper than it has ever been in my life, and I do not much cotton to that.

Ambien: It’s the reverse of a diet pill! Fucking brain chemistry anyway.


Books!

So I got a big pile of books from Amazon yesterday, with a second big pile of books scheduled to arrive today. And I still have $30 in credit from Amazon.com!

Which, I discovered completely by accident while I was looking for old-school steel manacles to affix to the Monkey Rocker, also sells BDSM gear. When did Amazon start selling BDSM gear, and why wasn’t I notified?

Not only do they sell BDSM gear, they sell straitjackets. Brand-new straitjackets. In black!

For $29.

And I still have $30 in credit.

Let me repeat that, because I know it’s too much awesomeness to sink in all at once. I found a place that sells straitjackets. For twenty-nine dollars. And I have a thirty dollar store credit from this place.

*is blown away by the cool*


And finally:

_luaineach is doing a fundraiser to support breast cancer research.

Specifically, she’s doing a 60-mile walk to raise money for cancer research. And there’s a minimum threshold of pledges she has to reach in order to be able to do the walking part. Which sounds like a feature and not a bug to me, but it’d still be a shame if all the training she’s been doing goes to waste. You can find out more here.

The shoe falls not far from the tree

So. An update on the income tax problems I’ve been dealing with of late: As I predicted, the IRS has been in contact with me again.

Saturday, I received a lengthy letter from the fine folks in the IRS explaining their current take on my situation. Apparently, they had assigned a team of auditors to combing through my 2006 tax return (a team? Really? I warrant the attention of a team of people at the IRS?), and that team had discovered certain…irregularities in my tax return. The very one that at first they claimed I didn’t file.

Anyway, it turns out, or so they say, that I somehow neglected to take a deduction to which I was entitled, with the result being that I overpaid my 2006 taxes by one hundred and forty-four dollars and seventeen cents.

Which explains the check I got in the mail last week.

So that’s, y’know, sorted and all, and apparently the IRS now considers the whole matter closed. Hell, if that’s what happens every time I get audited, they can audit me whenever they like!


In news of the less-good variety, my roommate David’s situation is not much improved after we were hit by a car on the way home from work.

The car that hit us was owned by a company, not an individual. The guy who hit us was unlicensed, had no ID, and was apparently illegal as well. Since then, David’s been on the phone with his insurance and with the company’s insurance for endless hours.

The guy who owns the company has been…um, “recalcitrant” would be a kind word for it. “A fucking double-barreled asshole with a side order of assholesauce” would be better. He’s been refusing to talk to his own insurance company about the accident, has been evading phone calls, and has generally made himself so disagreeable and unpleasant that his insurance company has canceled his policy and denied the claim. (There is, as it turns out, a clause in his policy specifying that he is obligated to cooperate with his insurance policy in the event of an accident.)

So David’s not getting anything from the owner’s insurance. The good news is that he has uninsured motorist coverage; the bad news is that it’s got a $1500 deductible, and his car is worth…well, you can guess the rest.

The only ray of hope in all this mess is that his insurance company is pursuing the guy vigorously, and if they prevail, he’ll get the full value of his car. If, y’know, they prevail. And stuff.

In honor of the current political situation in the US…

…and the Religious Right’s unceasing, relentless assault on freedom in the name of their narrow, parochial “morality,” and in light of the fact that there seems to be a never-ending obsession among certain political groups to tell us all how to have sex, under what circumstances to have sex, and even who to have sex with, I have created this new user pic.

I know there are a lot of folks on my friends list who are as appalled as I am about the idea that a government should find it appropriate to insert its nose under its citizens’ bedsheets. If you feel the way I do about this, please feel free to use this icon however you like. I’ve built it in two sizes, 100×100 pixels (for LiveJournal and other sites that use this size avatar) and 80×80 pixels (for forums and sites that use the smaller size avatar).

100×100 pixels

80×80 pixels

Waiting for the other shoe to drop

So as regular readers know, I’ve been having some problems with the IRS lately. At first they said they’d never received my 2006 tax returns (in spite of the fact that they cashed my check on April 16, in what has to be the only display of government efficiency I’ve ever witnessed), and then later told me that I needed to fill out some form dealing with income and expenses from my rental properties (despite the fact that I’ve…err, never owned any).

Well, yesterday they finally acknowledged that I have, in fact, paid my 2006 taxes…

…and sent me a check for $144 and change that they appear to believe I’ve overpaid.

I’m holding off on the celebration, though. Next month, I’m certain I’ll receive a letter from them saying “You know that check we just sent you? We’d like it back now, kthx. With interest.” Because, I don’t know, they’ll think i didn’t properly itemize my deductions from expenses incurred while invading France or something.

I knew my taxes were complicated, but apparently they’re too complicated even for the IRS to figure out.