Dream trip
Oh to be filthy rich! This article on seeing the Northern Lights as a dream trip has me totally jealous. I wanna go!

What he said...
Why do I love Jon Carroll? (In a perfectly platonic way, tinged only by a huge case of writer's envy.) Because he says what I think. Read this.

Code breakers
As someone who has always been fascinated by the role cryptology played in WWII, I found this article to be of great interest.

It seems that someone decided to harness the Internet and the power of volunteered, idling compuers, to try and track the remianing Nazi "Enigma" codes that hadn't been broken by the genius codebreakers of Bletchley Park. They've succeeded in deciphering one of them...there are more to go. Cool!

And speaking of hate...
In support of my post (below) about the Southern Poverty Law Center, I present this horrifying story. Thirteen-year-old white supremicist twin singers. Their story and their comments, frankly, make me nauseous.

While I realize the chances of any of those types of people reading this are slim, I nevertheless need to take this opportunity to vent.

These people seem to think they are superior, by virtue of having been born white. And they believe that anyone of African descent is, therefore, inferior. In fact their lives are so distorted by hate, they view African-Americans as so far inferior as to be undeserving of civil liberties, equal rights, or basic human respect.

To them I say that, with that attitude, you will never be as wise as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. You will never have the capacity to spread joy of Louis Armstrong. You will never have the courage of Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman, or Frederick Douglass. You will never have enough depth of feeling to create anything as beautiful as works by James Baldwin, Duke Ellington, Maya Angelou, or Thelonious Monk. You will never bring light and humor in the way that Bill Cosby or Whoopi Goldberg can. You will never fire people with inspiration like Malcom X , Muhammad Ali, or the Little Rock Nine. You will never travel into space like Mae Jemmison, contribute to medical research like Percy Lavon Jullian, or make international discoveries, like George Washington Carver. You will not make the world a better place, like Nelson Mandela. You will never be as important as Colin Powell, W.E.B. Du Bois, or Jackie Robinson.

And all this is as it should be. Because the best thing for people like you is to be forgotten.

Worth your support
If you don't know the Southern Poverty Law Center, you should. It began as a small Civil Rights law firm back in the "separate but equal" days, and since become inernationally known for its tolerance education.

As long-time supporters of the SPLC, we receive their regular journal, which is designed to terrify and anger those of us who have crazy ideas like "all men are created equal." This month's journal focuses on white supremacist organizations, angry anti-immigration activists, and various other upsetting groups and individuals. There's also an article on this lunatic "scientist" whose homophobic "research" while having been soundly denounced by experts, is still touted as an authority on why homosexuality is evil. (My favorite of his outrageous "facts" is this: according to him, lesbians are 300% more likely to die in a car accident than heterosexual women!)

If any of you have a little extra cash (and I know money is tight for us all), they're a great group that you might want to consider supporting. And even if you can't spare the cash, check out their website for more information on how you can get involved in the fight against intolerance and bigotry.

Into Olympics withdrawal
Well, the winter Olympics are over, and I'm already into withdrawal. Screw the "Olympics? What Olpymics?" attitude that apparently most of America had. I and my sweetie were glued to the TV for two weeks, completely caught up in Olympic fever.

And while I couldn't care less about the over-hyped, under-achieving Bode Miller, and found the equally ballyhooed women's figure skating to be thoroughly dull, I must admit that my revelation for the games is this:

Biathalon rules! What a cool sport. OK, on paper the concept of cross-country skiing yourself into exhaustion, only to stop and shoot at a target, seems like a ridiculous waste of time and energy. But oh my goodness, does it make for compelling TV viewing. (No, I'm not kidding!)

What I loved about it is how quickly the lead could change. Some guy skiis to the first shooting stage a full minute ahead the rest of the crew, misses two out of five shots, has to ski a 150 meter penalty loop, and suddenly some unknown from Latvia is in the lead. I lost track of just how many times that happened...the favorite totally implodes at a shoot, someone back in the pack shoots clean, and all of a sudden you've got a new leader. It's fascinating. Plus, at the end, there's frequently a crazy dash for the finish line that cannot help but get you screaming "go! go!' for that one guy from Finland that you just want to win.

Totally addicting.

On a side not, it's official, I think Apolo Anton Ohno is cool. I like how gracious and genuine he is in the face of both victory and defeat. He and the generosity of Joey Cheek completely redeemed the otherwise vaguely dull and, times, cringe-worthy American team (a tiara? on a ski helmet?).

Scary food!
OK, be prepared to laugh so hard you'll give yourself a seizure. This is the funniest thing I've seen in ages. The captions are hilarious...whoever wrote them is a genius.

Sick of X-sports at the Olympics?
Yeah, me too. That's why I loved this opinion piece from the LA Times.

Happiness
While researching love poetry for an upcoming radio show, I came across this, which was too wonderful not to share.

Happiness
by Carl Sandburg

I asked professors who teach the meaning of life to tell me,
what is happiness.
And I went to famous executives who boss the work of thousands
of men.
They all shook their heads and gave me a smile, as though I
was trying to fool with them.
And then one Sunday afternoon I wandered out along the Des Plaines
River
And I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with their
women and children and a keg of beer and an accordion.

And gay people are an abomination?
This I can't believe.

Anti-gay crusader and all around asshole Fred Phelps and his band of inbred loonies are now going around to military funerals and holding protests. According to this genius, American deaths in Iraq are "divine punishment" for a country that "harbors homosexuals." So these idiots go to funerals carrying signs thanking god for explosives. And these people think they're Christian?!?

Enter a group of bikers who are going to the same funerals with flags and doing what they can to shield the grieving families from the taunts of the Reverend and his Klan of renown.

The CNN article is, frankly, both hilarious and terrifying. I mean how can people think like that? How can they believe that it's ok to make someone's sorrow worse by mocking their funeral, but that it's not OK for two adults who love each other to get married?

You know, there's just nothing I can say...

Cute overload
Your head just might explode, but here's a site with the cutest animal photos ever.

And speaking of the Olympics
Am I the only one in America who'd rather see the one Kenyan bobsledder actually make his run than hear yet another story about the over-rated, over-inflated Bode Miller? No, I thought not.

More random thoughts about the Olympics:
- Why, oh why, are all Olympic mascots so terrifying? The ice cube and snowball from hell characters above? Creepy! Nightmare-inducing, creepy. Hold me.
- Memo to the snowboarding broadcasters: What language were you speaking? Oh, and "podium" is not a verb. Never has been. Learn, people, learn.
- So many athletes. So many iPods. Oh the humanity!
- The Russian speedskating uniforms are an abomination unto us all.
- The opening ceremonies were....um....odd. Let's see, we'll get a Ferrari, some skaters with jet packs, a guy with an anvil, and Yoko Ono. Yup, got all we need. Pass the popcorn.
- Why does everyone sound like they're yelling the same languge in curling? Someone hurls a rock and instantly gets incomprehensible. Whether it's Danish, Finnish, or English, it all sounds exactly the same.
- Why don't those poor non-winter sports countries who want an Olympic team put together a curling squad? Infinitely safer than having some poor hapless African guy strap himself to a bobsled and roll off to his doom.

Don't buy that!
The Compact is a Bay Area group fed up with rampant consumerism. They've taken a pledge not to buy anything new in 2006, except for food, health item,s and underwear. Everything else must come from thrift shops, friends, or other outlets. It's an intriguing idea. I'm already a huge fan of thrift shops and used book and record stores....and I'm not a shopaholic. But I'm not sure if I could do this. Could you?

No more frying pans!

NOTE: Since posting this, I noticed CNN has changed the headline to "Bush urges end to violence over cartoons." I guess I'm not the only one who had visions of the RoadRunner.

This article on cnn.com deals with the escalating violence over the cartoon in Denmark. President Bush, always one for turning the other cheek (kidding) has urged that things just settle down. OK, nice sentiment but doubt it'll have any effect at all.

But what cracks me up is the headline of the article reads "Bush urges end to cartoon violence." Um....so Wile E. Coyote can no longer go "boom" via an Acme bomb? No more getting hit in the face with a frying pan to that satisfying "boooiiiinnnng" noise? No more Elmer Fudd trying to shoot Bugs Bunny and having the gun explode in his face?

How sad....Saturday mornings will seem so dull compared to the local jihad.

Thank you, Mrs. King
For as long as I can recall, at every place I've worked, I've written a quote for the day on a whiteboard. Even if I was the only one who ever bothered to read it, at least I could count on starting every morning with something inspiring, quirky, bitchy, or just plain smart-assed.

Often my quotes are relevant to my situation at work, current affairs, or commemorating a specific date.

Today's quote is "Hatred is too great a burden to bear. It injures the hater more than it injures the hated," which was said by the late Coretta Scott King. And underneath today's quote I wrote "Thank you, Mrs. King."

While leaving my office to go get some water, a random person asked what I was thanking Mrs. King for. It rather took me aback. I replied that I was thanking her for spending her life as a champion of civil rights. That she'd never, even in the past few years, given up being an activist for equal rights for all.

And this guy asked, "is there still a fight for civil rights?"

Wow. What a question. I guess being a straight white guy in the rarified liberal climate of Northern California probably makes it seem like there's no longer any fight left, but I had to say that yes, there is still a fight.

That was my short answer. What I wanted to say was that until my gay friends can marry, then civil rights is still an issue. Until groups like the Aryan Brotherhood and the Klan stop recruiting people to hate others, then yes, civil rights is still an issue.

If you look at civil rights as the "rights" to live in a "civilized" society, then the battle is far from over. We may not have apartheid as an institution, but there is still a negative division between the majority of African Americans and the majority of European Americans. We may have the separation of church and state, but we have politicians who want to push a Christian agenda onto everyone through the teaching of so-called "Intelligent Design." Homosexuality may not be illegal, but it is also not exactly legal either. Especially when so-called "Christians" preach the gospel according to Saint Everyone is Wrong But Me and announce, with no logic whatsoever, that gay marriage threatens the sanctity of straight marriage. We may have freedom of speech on paper, but disagreeing with the current administration gets you labeled as a traitor. We may preach that America is the land of the free, and the great melting-pot, but those with Arabic-sounding names have come under criticism and hostility for nothing more than their ethnicity and their faith.

Dr. and Mrs. King did so much for the United States, and for the world as a whole. But the fight is far from over. If we've learned nothing from their commitment to equality, let us at least take away the message that the fight will be long and hard. In a world of cardboard heroes whose only claim to fame is being famous, it's good to be reminded of what real heroes and heroines are like. I can never claim to have the wisdom, the courage, or the strength of the Kings...but I can honestly say that I desire to be worthy of the legacy they gave to us all.

Long live Zookeeper!
The seriously cool online playlist keeper/database/goodie bag at KZSU, Stanford. In case you want to see what I've been playing, read some of my reviews, or otherwise check up on the sound of At the Cafe Bohemian, check out my page in the DJ Zone.

Who knew?
Who knew that Mussolini had a jazz-playing son? Romano Mussolini has died in Italy at the age of 79. He was apparently a high-respected jazz pianist who played with, among others, Dizzie Gillespie, Duke Ellington, and Chet Baker.

What an odd world it is.

Oh the humanity!
It's bad. It's culturally offensive. It's hilarious. It's David Hasselhoff and he's Hooked on a Feeling!

Two more Caravaggios!
Perhaps only those of us who studied Art History will be at all excited by this, but two paintings discovered in a French church have just been declared to be by Caravaggio.

The bad boy of the Renaissance is one of my all-time favorite artists (what can I say? I'm a sucker for someone who realizes that wandering around the holy lands in the time of Christ would probably lead to dirty feet and torn clothes -- rather than white robes and golden halos).

Any day that delivers two unexpected Caravaggios to the world has to be considered a good day!

R.I.P. Fayard Nicholas
I love the Nicholas Brothers. Fayard and Harold Nicholas were two of the most charismatic dancers ever captured on film. Made Astaire look like a super-sophisticated hack too cool to break a sweat.

From way back in 1934 when Samuel Goldwyn cast them in Kid Millions with Eddie Cantor, to their last movie in 1948 (The Pirate with Gene Kelly). Those two with their flawless style, unbridled energy, and trademark splits made every scene they were in truly memorable.

Fayard Nicholas died today at the age of 91. They were both irreplacable. Luckily, I have his autograph.