MIPOTW: Sixth

The Most Interesting Phrase of the Week for 022109 was delivered to my radar via an alert from Super FaceBook Guy upon loading my feed this week…

More than 175 million people use Facebook. If it were a country, it would be the sixth most populated country in the world. Our terms aren’t just a document that protect our rights; it’s the governing document for how the service is used by everyone across the world.

…thus introducing a hasty retreat by FB honchos after a recent change to their terms of service bootlegged ownership of any photos, etc posted on the site.  Yep, a coup d’etat was narrowly averted.

A couple of thoughts (actually 3):  1) Super FaceBook Guy has really earned his super hero cape this week, since I’m sure all 175 million received the same alert; 2) 175 million!  I mean [!].  This ain’t no measly Gotham, Super FaceBook Guy; 3) Is there anyone out there who actually assumes that when you post something online, it remains yours and yours alone forever and always, and nobody but who you say can see it or use it?  The only way to keep it totally yours is to put it in one of those nice photo boxes or albums and lock it up in your house and throw away the key.  And then, it’s really only yours for about 70 years or so at most.  It’s a small world after all.

Open Letter to Sports Advertisers

To Whom It May Concern:

I got 4 hours of sleep last night.

Why, you ask?  The Super Bowl. No, I was not in some Steeler-induced euphoria.  Why, then?  Super Bowl commercials. Yes, I know how really fun it is to wait for the commercials; laugh, cry, and puzzle at their meaning; rate the best, worst and most colossally lame.  But, I sort of have this unwritten inner rule about my entertainment.  It only qualifies as amusement in so far as it a) does not make my children cry, and b) does not interupt my intentional slumber–both of which happened last night as a result of Super Bowl commercials.  And at 4am, I was NOT AMUSED.

At 5:30pm yesterday, we switched on the big game–no small task, mind you.  There was some convincing required since turning on the game also meant turning off Bob the Builder.  To Little Drummer Boy: “I know, sweet, but we only have one TV and we have to share.”  To Squiggle:  “Daddy wants to watch a special football game.”  “Foot.  Baw.”  Suddenly, we were all convinced.  “Foot. Baw.” fans are in training at our house. [hmmm. point to ponder.]

Coming a little late to the party, we were orienting ourselves to the game and getting excited about what food might appropriately accompany our “foot. baw.”  Midway through the first quarter, what do we see?  I actually don’t know what we saw because I was distracted.  What I saw was Little Drummer Boy: close look, giving way to concerned look, giving way to startled look, giving way to tears peeking out at the corners, announcing “Mommy, that scared me.”  Yeah, I don’t know exactly what we saw, just that it involved a big, scary dinosaur with big, scary teeth coming right at us through the screen.  NOT COOL.

Explanations required:  Dinosaurs aren’t around anymore–not just at our house, but anywhere.  It’s over now.  We can see “foot. baw.” now.  Then, we were ok to get back to the game.  All was well.  Only, shortly after, what did we see?  I don’t know what we saw because I was in the kitchen making the Super Bowl meal of choice (pancakes and bacon). What I saw was Little Drummer Boy rounding the corner with more tears, in need of a hug, sporting a more urgent “Mommy, that scared me.”  Oh, and Hub turning OFF the Super Bowl as a result of what I can only guess was some gun-toting, teeth-baring, sword-wielding, fire-breathing, machine-morphing, head-banging conglomeration of a supposed consumer enticement.  Choose any or all that may apply.  Sadly, I was thinking “Thank God” that’s all it was.  I mean, literally, thank God there was no female clothing involved.

Was that the end of it?  NOT EVEN CLOSE.  Our Super Bowl experience was not complete until it involved soothing the tears of bad dreams and their subsequent reluctance to go to sleep (count them) SIX TIMES last night–2 for Daddy and 4 for me.

So, we didn’t get to watch any more Super Bowl commercials or any more “foot. baw.” for that matter.  Guess what?  DON’T CARE.  Because I was TICKED OFF.  TICKED. OFF.  Ok, now that I think about it, I care a little that I didn’t get to watch SPRINGSTEEN either, making me even more ticked off.  See paragraph 2.  To reiterate: supposed entertainment was sooo NOT entertaining when it involved Little Drummer Boy’s tears.  Not to mention the fact that I AM SLEEPY.

In the wake of MY sleep-deprived morning, I’m sure you’re all getting together to high-five the success of your ad spots and write the checks.  ATTENTION all you marketing execs and creatives.  Take this down:

1.  Yes, we only have one TV, and I like it that way.  So, don’t even think about turning this around on me.

2.  No, I don’t think my THREE YEAR OLD needs to get out more.

3.  A bzank-bzillion dollars is an obscene and offensive amount of money to spend on an advertising spot.  Go get yourself some corporate responsibility — economic crisis, children in poverty and all that.

4.  Yeah, I get that the Super Bowl doesn’t claim to be “family friendly” entertainment, but I have two “foot. baw” fans that will meet your demographic in about 15 years when (at the rate you’re going) you may really need some customers.  Only, now they’re scared of the commercials.

5.  I’d like, just once, to enjoy non-DVD programming that does not involve monsters, sexed up clothing, psycho-murderers, a steroid scandal or an explanation of ED.  Just once.

6.  I know I waited until a half hour before the game to ask “now, who’s playing?” but me and my little contribution to the middle class Gen X demographic still have a tiny bit of discretionary income that we WON’T be spending on people and things that give our kids bad dreams.

Rant over.  Although, frankly, I’m not really over it, because do I feel better?  NO.  I feel SLEEPY.

CultureSpeak: “Terror Planner”

Cultural Context:  The term used to headline the 2009 counterterrorism desktop planner released by the National Counterterrorism Center (NCTC) this week.  The weekly calendar format highlights wanted terrorists, terrorist incidents and terror organizations and is a perenial favorite resource for law enforcement personnel. Published in one form or another since the 1990s, this year’s publication is available to the public as a downloadable pdf and in an online interactive version.

The World Where I’m Raising Them…
“Hub and I looked at each other and shared a collective deep breath and then a simultaneous smile.  We were standing in the parking lot of the daycare after getting all our gifts settled in their respective rooms with their respective hugs and kisses.  “I think that qualifies as exercise,” he said.  Then, with a kiss we were off to work…”

That was the start of the Montgomery Madness post I had brewing in my mind this morning, a funny take on “exercise” and New Year’s resolutions.  And then, I saw this FoxNews article announcing the release of the “killer calendar.” Just like that, my account of our ordinary routines was interrupted by wider realities.  When I first read the article, I honestly wondered if it was a joke.  I don’t know why, since bombs are no laughing matter, but that was my first thought.  The subsequent link to the NCTC ruled that out.  I wondered if it was just a very creative installment of anti-terrorist propaganda.  The NCTC press release said it was chock full of profiles on “bad guys with bounties on their heads.”  I wondered if it was some sort of odd Homeland Security fund-raiser.  Leslie Jewell, spokeswoman for NCTC, told NewsMax in their article that the Government Printing Office would offer limited edition hard copies for sale on its website to “gauge public interest.”  I wondered if the calendar was designed as a kind of Rambo-in-training tool.  Apparently it’s been used by first-responders, investigators, counterterror agents, and the like for years.  Ms. Jewell indicated that they “love” the calendar because of the detailed index included, allowing them to “read about anthrax and other exciting topics.”  

Truth be told: none of the above would have really surprised me.  What struck me was the unmistakeable irony of something as mundane as a weekly planning calendar so matter-of-factly infused with such violence and hatred.  My day was a small microcosm–thoughts on the utterly ordinary occurence of dropping my three gifts safely in their daycare classrooms interrupted and juxtaposed with the realities of the world where I’m raising them.  The world where I am raising them is a world where a counterterrorism day planner is not as shocking as it should be. 

So, I downloaded a pdf copy from the NCTC website to take a closer look–all 65MB/160 pages worth.

It was indeed chock full of wanted men–one for almost every week of the year.  I could study their faces from various photographs, take note of their physical descriptions with distinguishing marks, learn their aliases, country of birth and citizenship, and read their terrorist resumes and rewards offered for capture.  The space for each day included Christian, Jewish and Muslim holidays and days ripe for possible “commemoration attacks” printed in blue and a record of this-date-in-terror-history printed in black.  Interspersed with fugitives, I found profiles on various terrorist organizations.  In the reference section at the back, I noticed diagrams on the recommended evacuation distances for various types of explosives, the physical properties of readily available [!] explosives, and notes on what to do if I notice a suspicious substance.  There were tips on recognizing forged documents and questionable financial transactions.  For the graphic designer in me, the calendar even included a two-page spread with the logos of various terror organizations–some shockingly well-designed, others not so much.  The bomb-threat call procedures were located just after the 2010 year-at-a-glance.

As I looked into the eyes of the puppeteers and perpetrators, the calendar simultaneously reduced the threat of terror to an absurd level of normality, and elevated its insinuation into my life to an overwhelming level of reality.  Where I might have written Little Drummer Boy’s pediatrician appointment on Wednesday, I saw the first female Hamas suicide bombing in Gaza.  There, where I would have written a client website meeting on the 21st, a gunman ambushed a vehicle in Kuwait.  Where I would have penciled a heart on my wedding anniversary, seven students at Hebrew University were killed by a bomb.  Where I would have written a reminder to shop for my daughter’s first birthday, a car bomb exploded outside a police station in Columbia.  There, where I would have recorded my hair appointments and friends’ birthdays and project due dates; there, amidst the faces of plotters and descriptions of explosives and first-responder instructions… I found the world where I’m raising them.

Culture Speak: “Comfort”

Cultural Context:  “The definition of comfort is very interesting. Comfort means hug, comfort means cry, comfort means smile, comfort means listen. Comfort also means, in many cases, assure the parent or the spouse that any decision made about troops in combat will be made with victory in mind, not made about my personal standing in the polls or partisan politics.” ~ President George Bush in an interview with the Washington Times.

Tidings of comfort and joy…
According to an article in the Washington Times, it seems that for the past seven years, President Bush has been regularly devoting time to meeting with wounded soldiers and the families of those killed in action in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq as well as writing personal letters to the families of those lost in the line of duty.  A Fox News article introducing the Washington Times story reported that he has visited with over 500 families of soldiers killed in action and over 950 wounded military personnel, and has written over 4000 personal letters of comfort to those who have lost loved ones.  Both the President and First Lady commented in the article about the incredible (and emotional) experience of sharing not only the anguish of loss with those families, but also the joy the families felt in helping the Bushes get to know something personal about the soldiers who sacrificed so much.

Now, I’ll admit that the EyeJunkie CultureSpeak “column” is sometimes filled with outrage, sarcasm or snarky comments about just how ludicrous some of our cultural and media terminology really is.  But, not so with this one.  I had to write this one as a testimony to how impressed I am with George and Laura Bush.  I know it’s not popular.  His approval rating is probably somewhere in the tweens about now.  But, this man is undettered in his commitment to what he believes is right.  That’s impressive.  It takes quite a lot of courage to be willing to look into the eyes of a mother who has just lost her son in a war you sent him to fight–a war it seems in vogue to criticize.  Despite what we read in the papers, the Bushes recall that most of the families they’ve met have said their soldiers chose to fight–wanted to serve and understood the need to fight and win this war.

What is just as impressive as his commitment of time and energy consoling grieving families is the fact that his mission of comfort has (by intention) largely been conducted under the radar of the ever-vigilant media.  Given the voraciousness of our media machine, that’s quite an endeavor.  His efforts have only been publicized when at the request of one of the veterans or military families.  The president and his staff have diligently guarded his meetings with loved ones to protect their privacy and allow them to express their grief without the flash of cameras.  Now, with less than one month left in office, the story is reported–not at times 2 years or 5 years ago when a boost in the polls provided by such patriotism might have been used to pass a bill, confirm pubic support or influence an election.

At the risk of slipping into something snarky, however, I have to say that as impressed as I am with George Bush, I’m equally as unimpressed with the lack of reporting on this 7-year phenomenon.  While I am thankful on behalf of the families concerned that they have not been exposed to the scrutiny of Joe-the-Plumber fame, I’m also disappointed that noone seemed interested in sniffing out the President’s tidings of comfort.  Consider that I can’t enjoy 24 hours without finding out the color of Brittney Spears underwear or the latest shopping purchase of Paris Hilton.  Yet, 1450 visits and a 4000-piece letter writing campaign has gone unnoticed?

4000 letters.  That’s more than one hand-written personal correspondence a day for the last seven years.  From the President of the United States.  The Washington Times article was extensive, but Fox News… 228 words.  CNN… no mention.  The national media’s “closer look” at the lives of the fallen has considerably fallen by the wayside beyond the first news cycles of the wars, while the President’s has been a more than 2500-day mission of mercy.

Regardless of your view of politics and the war–regardless of mine–I am thankful for a Commander in Chief who has taken time to count the cost more intimately than most making the headlines.  I am thankful for the integrity revealed in his unnoticed comforting.  I am thankful for his courage to expose himself to the criticism–not of pundits, journalists and starlets, but of those who have given their most precious gifts to the cause.  I am thankful for the perseverance he’s shown in staying the course despite detractors.  I am thankful for his quiet resistance to using the pain of others for political gain.  I’ll say it again.  I’m impressed.

My Vote Counted and other Election Debris.

Today I called the number.  I got the feeling that they don’t get many calls like mine, following up on an affidavit ballot.  But, after briefly describing my voting experience to the nice lady at the Chancery Clerk’s office, I now know that my vote was added to the tally.

As I’ve written before, occasionally media debris gets piled up in my brain–those random thoughts and observations that need an outlet before the maid service comes in.  Hence, the random Election Debris: 

1.  ABC news sported 50 states in 50 days during the primary season, an impressive endeavor.  I saw one woman and daughter from somewhere in the east (maybe West Virginia, I wasn’t paying attention).  They said their key issues for the election were “choice” and “equal pay for equal work.”  I’m wondering when we got to the place in our society when one word– “choice” –could immediately be understood my men, women and children alike to mean there’s no law that would prevent me from choosing to abort my unborn child.  Is that progress?

2.  ”I’m pro-life and pro-gun.” — from U.S. Senate candidate’s ad.  Life and gun.  Strange bedfellows.  But, there’s the Republican Party for you.

3.  Seeing the electoral map in all it’s red and blue glory a full (count them) six weeks before the election.  There’s something troubling about that.

4.  And, the Contrived-Programming-While-Trying-Our-Hardest-to-Look-Natural Award goes to… CNN! For the program (which I only caught a few minutes of) featuring a discussion of politics and the economy held at Delmonico’s in NYC around a poker table (3-sided, mind you. must leave room for the cameras).  Men and women with poker chips and high ball barware — what, no cigars?  Not politically correct, I guess.

5.  Roger Wicker & Ronnie Musgrove Senatorial ads ad nauseum.  Where’s the Pepto when you need it.

6.  General amazement at what makes it above the cable/digital fold:  Sarah Palin’s pregnant daughter segues to Barak Obama’s terrorist neighbor segues to John McCain’s campaign suspension segues to Joe the Plumber’s tax returns segues to Mickey Mouse registers to vote

7.  Sometime during October, I sensed a strange absence.  Where is Joe Biden?  His name wasn’t even on the Obama ads.

8.  And, the You-May-Think-It’s-About-News-But-It’s-Really-All-About-Me-and-My-Profession Award goes to… A string of top news topics: Tina Fey.  Katie Couric’s interview questions.  ”What [insert candidate name here] needs to do is – ahem – as if [insert candidate name here] watches this program – chuckle chuckle.”  CNN facts across the bottom of the screen — thank you CNN, especially for letting me know the accomplishments of your reporters.

9.  What’s up with the trend showing the tv screens within tv screens?  Flipping your laptop around so the tv cameras can see it?  Tellistrating on the electoral maps?

10.  Bites:  Spread the wealth around.  You betcha.  I am not George Bush.

11.  The View.  There’s Joy sounding cantankerous and all Democratic.  There’s Elisabeth being the token Republican with a “yeah, but” when she could get a word in — although I appreciate that she brought notes on her research a couple of times.  There’s Barbara sounding like the voice of journalistic legitimacy, although didn’t that train leave the station when “daytime talk show host” was added to her resume right after “interviewed Fidel Castro.”  Then, there’s Sherrie–not sure for the longest where she stood, but saw her try to get loud on Elisabeth about McCain divorcing his first wife. I’m sensing some relationship/single motherhood issues from a couple of other comments on non-election segments.  And, then there’s Whoopie trying to appear fair while acknowledging her Democrat allegiance, refereeing the others, making a joke, declaring her friendship with John McCain and the Clintons (there’s a dinner party) and getting to commercial break so everyone gets their paycheck.  Ugh.

12.  Fox News website breaking news — “President-Elect Obama to Step Down From Senate” — duh!

This is EyeJunkie, and I approved this list.