And the Winner Is.........

She won our hearts......... Her audition video has embedding disabled by request. Servers simply can't handle it. You can view it on YouTube here. If you haven't heard her audition, go to the link and listen to it first.





I don't care. Britan's Got Talent is a talent show. Susan Boyle, you still won. You won big time.

I'm a Spam Blog? Enough Already!

For three days now I have struggled to publish blog posts at Xavier Thoughts, because Blogger's robots have determined that my personally published blog may be an evil spam blog. Maybe it's because I posted some disagreeable things about Obama. Maybe it's because I write about guns. Maybe it's because some prick decided to "flag" me because he or she did not agree with my content. Blogger claims it is because of the number of links I have, and my posting frequency.

Three days ago, I sent a request for human verification. Today, I am still straddled with Blogger's silly warped multi-font random array of letters that I must type in a blank to publish a post. It has been three days. Here is what Blogger has to say on the matter:

"Blogger's spam-prevention robots have detected that your blog has characteristics of a spam blog. (What's a spam blog?) Since you're an actual person reading this, your blog is probably not a spam blog. Automated spam detection is inherently fuzzy, and we sincerely apologize for this false positive.

We received your unlock request on September 20, 2008. On behalf of the robots, we apologize for locking your non-spam blog. Please be patient while we take a look at your blog and verify that it is not spam.
Find out more about how Blogger is fighting spam blogs."

Three days..... I am still waiting. So, I ask my readers that I have responded to in the comments and in email to comment here. If this blog disappears into ethernet, it wasn't because I wanted it to. If there is something on my blog you value, I urge you to copy it to your hard drive.

Oh, and for the human who sooner or later will review this blog, it is not spam. It is an informative work by a real human being with a following of regular readers. You may not agree with the views expressed here, but this blog has not violated your policies. If it has, drop me a line and the violation will be removed. Know what? I'll answer you too, because I AM NOT A 'BOT!

Monday On Tuesday

Damn.

Carrier

First......Two words........

Comcast Sucks!

Now that I am back online and have that off my chest, I have been watching the PBS series filmed on the USS Nimitz while the ship was deployed in 2005. I brings back huge memories. I ordered the DVD set. It's an excellent series. (Sidenote: I noticed the aviators of VFA 41 were toting Sigs.)

Back when I was in Uncle Sugar's Yacht Club, women were not allowed on board combatant vessels. It was considered to be a logistical compromise, and an unnecessary complicating factor in many ways. Limited space needed for fuel and ordnance being occupied by separate heads, berthing and stockpiles of maxi-pads. Decreased combat readiness with members of the crew becoming pregnant days before deployment. Fatal distraction on a ship that could lead to not only loss of careers, but of lives. For people who have never sailed in the Navy, the reality of being at sea for months with a mission of going to war if need be is a foreign thing. I would not expect them to understand my thoughts on the matter. I will simply say that if you have not humped 110 pounds of rusty greasy chain around your shoulders at a dead run for 12 hours a day for 110 days straight without a break, eating on your 12 hours off, sleeping on your 12 hours off, showering on your twelve hours off, and all the time wondering if this was your last hour before you lost your life to somebody else's carelessness, well, you don't have a knowledgeable opinion on the matter.

I usually keep that opinion to myself. The new politically correct Navy and Marine Corp is different from what it once was. My generation of sailors resolved conflicts with smokers. If you don't know what a smoker is, you are new Navy, bottom line. It ain't a burnt hot dog or a cigarette.

Oh My God!

Words fail me. A man receives a sunningly perfect Remington Rand M1911A1 from his father in law. His wife's grandfather had carried the pistol in WWII. He admits he is not a "gun person". Along with the pistol, he is given many artifacts from the era, photographs, a helmet, web gear, uniforms, knives, and even two Winchester made M1 Garands.

The gentleman takes the Remington Rand to a gunsmith gun hack who looks it over and does not tell the fellow to preserve it as it is. Oh no........The hack nickel plates a pristine M1911A1 pistol, installs a three hole trigger, a Commander hammer, an Wilson drop in beavertail grip safety, and an extended slide stop. Then he charges the idiot for his work! But wait.......The idiot decides to improve things further. He gets a damned Dremel tool and grinds off the rear of the hammer and the beavertail. He then stencils a "rack number" on the grips. Dear God! Please, someone tell me it is a joke!

This has got to be a joke. The recipient might be that stupid, but no gunsmith is that ignorant. For those who do not appreciate such things, this is how you convert a $1800 collector's piece into a $500 piece of crap.

Of course the owner can do what he likes with his property, but dear sweet John Moses on a sugar sprinkled flap jack........This can't be real. A gunsmith would have offered a new Kimber in trade.........The idiot would not know about rack numbers and, and........damn. Just damn it all.


OK, It's a bogus story.......Whew....

The Cell Phone

I've been using the same old cell phone for the past five years or so. It was a beat up silver flip phone that had escaped my pocket in search of pavement numerous times as I exited my car. It steadfastly refused to give up the ghost and I reveled in the luxury of not being able to pay a thief to take the ugly device. I usually kept the ringer turned off unless I was awaiting a return call.

A couple of days ago my dear wife-mate presented me with a new cellphone.....Seems her contract was up for renewal, and she wanted a more debonair device to make noise in my pocket. A Motorola V365 it is.....constructed so tough that even the Samsonite gorilla would wail over it's inextirpable good looks. I hesitantly swapped in my SIM card and lit that puppy up. The personal phone numbers of over 100 physicians and surgeons were vaporized, along with the numbers of an equal number of friends. Crap. So, that's where Xavier has been.....I have spent the last two days retrieving the numbers and trying to force this monster into submission.

One advantage is the Motorola has a camera. Perhaps that can assist me with getting photos for the blog if I can figure out how to get the dammed telephone to puke them up into the computer. The silly thing has mobile email and text messaging.....Like I'm going to use that. I have no idea what they are for. The ideal cellphone for me would have no incoming calls and a rotary dial. Today the damned thing emitted that irritating series of electronic tones while I was scrubbed in. Sherry the Circulator dug under my gown, fished it out of my pocket and held it to my waiting cheek. Some customer service rep wanted to know if I was pleased with my new phone and service. I related my displeasure at having to respond when I was up to my wrists in bloody skeeter stats, and I banished the thing outside to my labcoat.

Tonight when I got home, Little Darling showed me how to turn it off, and she put her picture in it for me. I'm starting to like it better already.

Note To Morons

A word of advice for knuckle dragging morons........If you see a man walking through a hotel lobby in scrubs and a lab coat, do not mock him asking if he is a brain surgeon and a requesting that he perform brain surgery on you.

He just might knock those brains out of your head and scramble them on the spot.

The Badge

I had an administrator eyeball me in the elevator today. Then, suddenly from nowhere, he told me I should not wear a Bobcat badge on the lapel of my labcoat. I suppose he thought he was the war ignorant General who dressed down Joker in Full Metal Jacket for his peace sign and the "Born To Kill" inscription on his helmet.

Here's the deal. I ain't Joker, and this ain't the damned military. I did my time, I'm proud of my military service, and now, I'll tack whatever I damned well please on my lapel. The hospital I work at has nothing to say about it as long as it's tasteful. If the pencil pushing prick had nicely inquired, he might have learned that that pin was given to me in 1995 by an eight year old boy who almost lost his leg in a hunting accident involving a shotgun. Jeremy suffered a wound in his thigh that required multiple skin grafts and painful debridement over a period of eight months. He had injured his leg crossing a fence during dove season. I saved his leg against terrible odds. He managed to complete his dream of going deer hunting with his father. When I say I fought terrible odds to heal his wound and save his leg, it was because he was undergoing chemotherapy at the time. He died the following year.

Jeremy gave me his Bobcat badge to remember him by. He felt it was one of his most significant achievements. I disagree. One of his most significant achievements was to give me that badge as a reminder of why I do this job, as a bit of solace when everything falls apart around me, as recognition that I did make a difference for someone, and I can again, each day if I so chose.

So yeah Mr. Administrator.........I'm going to wear may Bobcat badge. It's not going anywhere. In a time when highly trained nurses are hard to come by, you do what you feel you must. I can secure another job with a simple phone call. You ain't taking this badge.

More on Cellular Dependence

From my comments on this article:

triticale said...
Every one of you are blaming objects instead of people, much like the way the victim disarmament movement blames guns instead of criminals.

Blackwing1 said...
Xavier:

Our concealed-carry instructor made if very, very clear that if we were going to carry a firearm, carrying a cell phone was an absolute necessity, for legal purposes if nothing else.

I now carry the world's perfect cell phone: No one but my wife has the number. I leave it on at all times that I'm carrying, and it's clipped to my belt (along with my multi-tool and spare magazine carrier). What's really funny is how my wife and I use it.

The last time we were at a big gun show (at the state fairgrounds), we split up to cover the stuff better. When she wanted me to look at something, she'd give me a call from across the coliseum. I'd ask her where she was, she'd tell me, and when she saw me look in the right area, she'd give me a wave. Much more like a walkie-talkie than a pair of phones, sometimes. We'd comment about how funny it was that we'd be within 100 yards of each other, and bounce a cell-phone signal up to a tower, over to a switcher, back to a tower, down to the other cell...all to just find each other at a crowded show.

But you've left out the worst offenders...the cell-phonies who insist on talking on their phones while driving a car. We used to assume that somebody speeding-up/slowing-down, veering in and out of their lanes and generally acting like a complete idiot was drunk. Now we just assume they're on the phone.

James R. Rummel said...
Bear with me for a few lines, please.

Movie film used to be nitro based. Heat it up too much and it would burn like Christmas tree in August that had been soaked in a gallon of gasoline. The places where they stored these movies were called "film vaults" because they were built like those armored rooms where the banks store money, so dangerous was the chance of a blaze.

People were well aware of the danger, and there would be a mad scramble for the exits if the cry of "fire" was raised in a theater. Teen aged kids would wait until the movie was about half way through and then yell out the word. They'd sit back and laugh themselves sick as the patrons trampled each other as the fled for their very lives.

The point is that there have always been people who were inconsiderate, even casually cruel, and that Triticale is right. You are blaming the instrument, and not basic human nature. Cell phones haven't eroded our good manners or sense of consideration for others because those things never existed in the first place. There were rude jerks before cell phones existed, and there would still be rude jerks if all cell phones suddenly stopped working.

I don't make it a secret that I run a charity self defense course, nor that I specialize in training the elderly and disabled. Even though I certainly understand your frustration with their misuse, I must say that they also provide an indispensable link to the police and emergency services when there is trouble. My students, many of whom are the weakest and most vulnerable members of our society, are much safer due to that link to the outside world.

blackwing1 was also correct in saying that everyone who carries concealed should also have their phone with them. It is an important weapon in our self defense arsenal.

Like I said, I understand the frustration with their misuse. But the benefits far outweigh the negatives.

James

I do no argue any of this. There have always been rude people, yes. There has not always been a marginally socially acceptable means of blinding people in a theater. Many cellphones have backlight adjustments, and volume adjustments. A user can activate those controls and discretely use the cellphone without anyone being disturbed or even knowing.

Yet they do not. These people know how to text message and check voice mail, but they do not know how to adjust backlighting and volume? I find that hard to believe. What part of "Turn off your phone" do they not understand? I believe rather, that they are so taken with their little digital world that displaying their over inflated sense of self worth in a darkened theater is more important to them than being respectful of others. This is the very definition of assholery.

At one time we were much more self sufficient than we are now. 911 is a panacea, yet people seem to believe they will be magically transported to a safe place when they dial it. They are not. A cellphone can summon help, but it cannot remove a threat.

Criminals are not deterred by 911 calls. They are deterred by force. At one time, it was not unusual for a person to carry a gun, the means of deadly force was there if needed, on their belt when they ventured forth. Now many carry a cellphone on their belts as though it were the magic talisman against all evil. The cellphone is not an instant policeman on your belt. It is a device to let a dispatcher know you are about to be killed, or that you have killed. A gun and the ability to use it is the means of protection that a cellphone is not.

I agree that a person should carry a cellphone if they carry a gun. However, they should not drive an automobile while using a cellphone. They should not use a cellphone in theaters. They should not use a cellphone around telemetry. They should not use cellphones in libraries, at funerals or during church. Yet they do. Hell, in surgery, a circulating nurse frequently just manages the surgical team's telephones rather than doing her job. Is nothing sacred? People should not use their cellphones in the many areas that request people to not use them. Cellphone users should know and use volume controls, and backlighting controls, and be respectful of others. That is all anyone is asking.

If there had been one usher who took each and every offender to the door and asked them to leave when a cellphone lit up, or when a cellphone rang during the performance I attended, this blog article would not exist. That, however did not happen. The director saying "We ask that you turn your cellphones off" at the start of the performance should have been enough. It was not. There are too damned many people in this world who think they are special. This blog article is not about the inherent evils of cellphones. It is about the assholes who think they have more rights than their fellow citizens.

I went to another performance of the same show, on Thursday night. It was Senior Night instead of the show's Premier. Buses from assisted living facilities deposited the cane bearing white haired population at the theater entrance. Not a single cellphone rang during the performance. Not a single cellphone lit up during the performance. The show was enjoyable. Strange. Nobody died in the theater or the parking lot. I know that there were at least two guns and cellphones there. My wife and myself were there. There may have been more.

Tolerance of bad behavior will not change it. Speaking out against bad behavior, calling it what it is, and condemning it is the first step towards change. To fix a problem, the problem must first be recognized as a problem. Using a cellphone in a theater, and allowing a cellphone to become such a link to your reality that you can not bear to not use it for a couple of hours is a problem. It is an addiction. I believe rehabilitation is possible, but first, the problem must be recognized.

Cellular Existentialism

In the early 1990s. I was new to nursing, and pagers were new to the marketplace. Many hospitals purchased pagers and gave them to emergency, and surgical staff of their facilities, allowing them to be summoned instantly if needed. I remember those times. If a nurse did not have a pager, well that nurse was just dried dog poop. A pager was a sign of one's status, a badge displaying proudly that someone, somewhere believed you were necessary at something. At least that was the general perception.

Back then, I saw pagers for what they were, a ball and chain. Today, nurses, including myself, still wear pagers when they are on call. It provides a bit more coverage, and a bit better privacy than a cell phone. To this day, when I go on call and clip an electronic pager to my belt, it makes me feel like I am wearing an ankle bracelet from the Sheriff's office. It is not an emblem of self importance to me, it is proof that someone, somewhere can send an electronic signal to their monkeys, and like Pavlov's dog, we will respond. I despise that little black box. It's a tangible sign that I am not in total control of my life, that I am a slave to my employer.

Cellphones soon followed pagers, and the general public traded in the boring beeper for the cellphone. The electronic communication device as status symbol did not die though. Clips were put on cellphones so they could be worn on the belt, just like a pager, to show one's sense of style and importance. While my cohorts carry the latest Razor, BlackBerry or iPhone, I carry a battered flip cellphone that I refuse to replace until it gives out. I do not understand why cellphone companies cannot design a durable phone for Neanderthal users like myself. I don't want text messaging. I don't need or even know what voice mail is........All I want is a way to answer the pager when I am at the range and it starts beeping.

Many cellphone users do not see the cellphone for what it is. It is an unnecessary device of convenience that many could easily do without. We have become convinced that it is a necessity, like a toaster, a dishwasher, a........Wait a minute, those are not necessities either. A cellphone has taken the place of the pager for many people, a symbol that they are worthwhile, a validation of their existence, that they are somehow important enough for someone to want to talk to them.

Last night I suffered through a play in which I was surrounded by cellphone users. No less than five were on either side of me and in front of me, yakking into the damn things, text messaging into the damned things, and ruining the experience of the theater for everyone around them. That theater held over 300 people. I have to wonder how may cellphone minutes were used during the time that these morons had paid to see a play. A play is supposed to be a means of escaping the drudgery of one's life. Why would anybody even consider going to the theater and talking on a cellphone the entire time? What was so damned important that those calls could not be avoided?
If the matters were that important, then why did the person stay at the play and yammer into their link to their pathetic little worlds? Why not leave and go take care of the problem?

No, in our hedonistic Paris Hilton wannabe wonderland of self indulgent egotistical bullshit existence, digital dialogue has become an emotional crutch, a reminder that a person exists, that a person matters, assurance that a person's life will not run away without them if they step away for a while. It's a pathetic ego stroke for the co-dependent ranger, who cannot exist for a couple of hours without contact with the mothership. Hell, today 10 year old children have cellphones! Who is paying the bills on this stuff? Who is making the money? Why do people think they need it?

Believe it or not, there was a time that people, even children, ventured forth without electronic umbilical cords. People took vacations to get away from their telephone. They got away from their house. They went places with people they loved, spent time with them talking face to face, and they built enduring relationships rather than cellphone debt. What have we become? We have been sold a false bill of goods, a surreptitious nihilistic bill of goods, and our society is lapping it up like blind puppies lapping up antifreeze. Cellphones do not bring us together, No. They drive us apart. They do not build society, they destroy the possibilities of functioning in a society without them. For one day, if you are a cellphone ranger, turn it off. You will live.