No, Really, Why Did You Publish This, Pt. 3

I know I majored in "Social Studies" and haven't taken a legitimate science class in... hmm... about six years... but this is the most hilariously irresponsible piece of scientific journalism I've seen in ages. A real home run, BBC Online!

In this gem of an article, an "evolutionary theorist" named Oliver Curry predicts, inter alia, that humans will diverge into a "genetic upper class [that] [will] be tall, slim, healthy, attractive, intelligent, and creative" and a genetic "'underclass'... who [will] have evolved into dim-witted, ugly, squat goblin-like creatures."

Oh, but it gets better...

[I]n the nearer future, humans will evolve in 1,000 years into giants between 6ft and 7ft tall, he predicts, while life-spans will have extended to 120 years, Dr Curry claims.

Physical appearance, driven by indicators of health, youth and fertility, will improve, he says, while men will exhibit symmetrical facial features, look athletic, and have squarer jaws, deeper voices and bigger penises.

Okaaay, Mr. Mengele... but... where is your scientific "evidence"? Hmm, there's the problem. If you look at the entire article, you will not find one study, experiment or, um, number to suggest that any of this is true. But hey, if Doctor Curry said it, it must be right.

The Dog Who Loved to Suck on Toads

It is what it is folks. You'll want to listen to this one.

(Thanks to Rich for the lead.)

Modern Slavery, Just Read the Paper

A friend sent me this disturbing article from the New York Times. It focuses on Ghana, but broadly discusses how thousands--perhaps tens of thousands--of African children are sold into indentured servitude by their parents, often for sums as paltry as $30. This is not just an African problem; the International Labor Organization estimates that well over 100 million children work in hazardous industries.

Due to the nature of parental and family relationships, the freedom of child workers is difficult to ascertain. With adults, it is much easier: the ILO's most conservative estimate is that 12.3 million adults are forced laborers. "Forced labor" is a tricky term; it makes many people think of outright slavery. And there are actual cases of outright slavery--I confirmed as much while working as a research consultant for the ILO--but focusing on such cases obscures a larger problem: debt-bondage. This is the sort of situation you observed in the American west in the 19th and early 20th century "factory stores." (You get to the mine/ranch/farm. You need to eat/drink/clothe yourself. You buy your goods at a grossly marked-up prices from the factory store. And your paycheck goes to the store, and not your pocket.)

I'll have more on practical proposals in a couple of months, when I finish a long-overdue paper on labor clauses in free trade agreements, but for now I think it simply bears repeating that forced labor--modern slavery--is a real problem in the 21st century.

There's a Yeti in My Bathroom

If you've been to the Llama's den recently you'll know that he likes to have frames on his walls. With pictures in them, of course, but right now he feels like a nice mature Llama for having said pictures in frames. Custom frames. (Hmm-hmm. This is how I do, ladiez.)

For a while, though, I have been unable to find an appropriate piece for my bathroom. You don't want anything too nice; you might as well put that in your room. You want something a little lighthearted, but not so much that you might as well have SpongeBob SquarePants shower curtains. I found a nice compromise in the art of Tom Gauld (check out his stuff in "Tom's Shed" here). He has a recurring character who he calls a Monster. But I will soon call him:

My Bathroom Yeti. Please come and visit him post-haste. He will get lonely in there.

Technical Difficulties...

Your patiencesness is asked for by me.

Immigrant Narratives

Harper's has a great piece by Cecilia Balli on what happens to border crossers who are apprehended. I didn't know this, but the Mexican government has established an organization called "Grupo Beta" to provide migrants with food, shelter, and (apparently) really long lectures. I also didn't know that an estimated ninety percent of border crossers are robbed Mexican and Central American "bandits" at some point of their journey.

On the fiction side, I'm currently reading The People of Paper by Salvador Plascencia; its main characters are a father and daughter who make the crossing from central Mexico, via Tijuana, to a town in California called El Monte. It reminds me of Gabriel Garcia Marquez at a magical-realist peak, with very entertaining shifts in narrator and perspective. Some snapshots: a woman created out of paper by a self-taught origami "surgeon"; a flower picker who decides to wage a (non-violent) war against Saturn; a Tijuana mechanic who, instead of fixing cars, makes little mechanical turtles. I'm not done yet, but still perfectly comfortable recommending it.

Why Did You Publish This Dept., Pt. 2

A little while back I posted about a bizarre story in the Crimson that suggested, without any merit whatsoever, that Bill Clinton would be the next president of Harvard.

Check out this story in the New York Times.* Headline: "Demure Madonna and Anxious President." What! What? Did Madonna make an appearance with Dubya? No way, right?

Right. If you read the story, you will quickly see that there is no connection whatsoever between Madonna and Bush. All they did was make awkward appearances on television on the same day. I don't care if some overzealous undergrad writes a story about how he shook Clinton's hand (er, Bill Clinton will be the next president of Harvard), but I really... don't know... what is going on here.

*I know some people write New York Times--with only the "Times" italicized--but I think that's obnoxious. Just like the New Yorker writes "coordinate" with an "ö," as in "coördinate." Come on guys, who are you kidding.

Talking Animals Pt. 1: Captain McKittles

The Llama is not the only mammal with powers of speech. There are various instances in modern literature of animals who possess the ability to communicate orally or in writing. Recent exemplars include a hungry goat, and Tom Cruise's dog. Or, dogs that are Tom Cruise. That was why the Llama was not surprised when he came across the following letter. Though the language is occasionally a bit coarse--felines are not as classy as you think--he hopes you like it as much as he did.

Sunny day

129 Barrow Drive
Danbury, CT 06523

Mary
129 Barrow Drive
Danbury, CT, 06523

Dear Mary,

Effective immediately, I would like to establish several rules to will govern our continuing relationship and my continued residence at 129 Barrow Drive. The following items are non-negotiable:

1. Fresh Iams™ every morning.

2. By fresh, I mean straight out of the can. None of this garbage where you ziplock it and sprinkle it with warm water and say “Tasty, tasty.”

3. You clean the litter box every night.

4. Arthur does not touch me.

5. Arthur does not touch me.

6. No more goddamn catnip.

I would like to emphasize that this last item is, like, really mandatory. You may do advertising and all sorts of fancy shit, but you clearly do not comprehend the magnitude of a nip hangover. Picture jumping up real high, like to the TV, and then having the kid blindside you and landing on your head. Repeat four times and you will know where I am coming from, compadre.

I am also aware that the above-named policies may require some time and energy on your part. In fact, you may even have to spend some time monitoring your hyperactive, clearly troubled, Cheetohs-eating child. (FYI, if I actually had nine lives, I would suicide-bomb the little fucker for the first eight.) In light of this, I propose the following merely as suggestions:

1. Instead of leaving every morning, you can stay home every once in a while, and we can watch the Discovery Channel.

2. Isn’t two gerbils a little much? Couldn’t we get rid of one? Nope, I know what you’re thinking—what are we going to do with Squeaks? But don’t you worry—I’m totally on it.

3. If (2) is not cool, then, maybe you could just let me play with them a bit. Or like, let me see if they smell different when they are in my mouth. I’ve read somewhere that happens, you know.

4. We replace the living room wall with one large, bay window. The whole wall. You don’t even have to buy curtains. I mean, who doesn’t like sunlight?

I think that these are perfectly reasonable things to ask in exchange for my loving companionship and my letting you touch me. Please respond at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely,

Captain McKittles

The Llama is going to get a headset.

Also, when he sends a text, he will do so "with [his] arm outstretched next to the window when travelling on a train."

Apparently, there is now scientific evidence suggesting that the use of cellphones will impede the future likelihood of lil' baby Llamas. See for yourself.

Shortbus Screening

Tonight I went to see Shortbus by John Cameron Mitchell, the same guy that filmed Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Apparently, Mitchell's goal in making Shortbus was to make a serious film that incorporates explicit sexual material. And explicit it is. You will not see sex scenes like this anywhere else other than the sort of movies where actors are named Jack Banger and Debra Rider. Or Jack Banger and Jim Rider. And John Rodeo. (Yep.)

It is an interesting goal, though, and for the most part the film achieves it: the sex scenes are not pornographic and are critical to the plot. But the movie doesn't have that much more behind it. The characters are really confused (and confusing). There is not a thesis or theme of any type, other than You-have-to-try-different-things/partners/orientations-to-be-happy.

But before writing the movie off completely, I should say that the movie does have one saving grace--the final fifteen minutes. I have never seen a Bollywood movie (I know, shame on me), but this is what I imagine an epic Bollywood final dance number would be like if people had little or no clothes on and spent all their time in bizarre cafes/salons/sex clubs in deepest darkest Brooklyn. It may be worth watching just for that.

Apocalypto: Kiwi Camara Redux?

Last night, while watching the latest three episodes of Lost online (welcome to Fall Break land), I came across a trailer to Mel Gibson’s upcoming Mayan end-of-civilization flick, Apocalypto. (Check out the trailer here.)

While watching, I couldn’t help but wonder: will Apocalypto be Kiwi Camara all over again? But on a national scale?

In 2002, Harvard Law student Kiwi Camara posted his property notes online to share with his classmates. In his notes, he used the word “nigs” to refer to the African-American defendants in a famous civil rights case, Shelley v. Kraemer.

This wasn’t a mistake: he prefaced his outline with a statement that his outlines “may contain racially offensive shorthand.” When classmates learned of his posting, Camara made several pretty lame attempts at apologies, including one statement that he would “make a much more conscious attempt than I have made" not to use racial slurs, but that he could not “guarantee it.” (Legal education makes people nice and precise like that.)

Fast-forward to late 2005. Kiwi Camara, HLS ’04, is now a fellow at Stanford and looking to enter academia. He submits an article to the Yale Law Journal under the name “K.A.D. Camara” and it is accepted for publication. Upon learning of Camara’s background and the Journal’s decision to publish him, many Yale Law students were outraged, and urged the Journal not to publish the piece. (It did.) Should an author’s racist or bigoted views affect how we consider his or her work independent of those views?

You can’t help but draw a comparison with Mel Gibson’s current predicament. Gibson, like Camara, (A) made blatantly bigoted comments (and it was way more than one word), (B) later denied he was a bigot (but, come on, no one believes him) and (C) is about to benefit greatly from work that has nothing to do with those bigoted views.

So, are you going to watch Apocalypto? Even though Mel’s an anti-Semite? Just as I was against publishing Camara’s piece, I don't think I'll watch Apocalypto. I believe that it is appropriate to sanction Gibson for his anti-Semitic views, to send a message that his conduct and beliefs are reprehensible. Some may say that it is arbitrary to sanction someone in this way. Really? In my view, punishment in our society has never been rationally associated with the prohibited conduct--putting someone in jail doesn't really speak to the crime they committed (i.e. a forgerer could be in the same cell as a violent criminal). So I’m perfectly comfortable denying Mel his profits because of the ridiculous things he says.

Only thing is that the movie might rock pretty hard. So… I might be inclined to get my hands on a bootleg copy. Or sneak into a movie theatre.

Thoughts?

Back from Pasture, Awesomeness

The Llama has returned from wandering in the desert for [4] days. He is also on vacation. Awesomeness will ensue, promise.

Out to Pasture

The Llama is sad to report that he will be out to pasture for the next three days.

In his stead, he offers the world-famous George Washington video. Many of you have seen it before; if you have not, click away, it gets funnier the more times you watch it.

From My Hoof to My Trigger

The Llama was happy to see that some reporter from the Press and Sun Bulletin, his hometown newspaper, visited his cousins in upstate New York. You can find the whole slideshow here, but below you can find a good picture of cousin Frankie.

The reporter-girl says “This white male actually came to the fence. He's one of two males used for breeding, so we figured that he was trying to be macho.” If by “trying to be macho” she meant, “trying to score some J,” then she is entirely correct. Frankie is all kinds of trouble.

Important Anatomical Update: Since posting this entry, the Llama has learned that neither he, his cousin Frankie, nor any member of his family (read: species) has hooves. We got toes, man. You're damn straight that we spit to establish dominance, though.

Introduction to Vice Magazine's Do's and Don'ts

In college, I spent a summer in California chasing down and interviewing sheepherders for my senior thesis. In between driving sessions in the middle of nowhere, I spent some time in San Francisco, Sacramento, and Los Angeles.

In LA, I made two discoveries. First, I realized that there are men who spend thousands and thousands of dollars on botox, waxing, cosmetic surgery, and bizarro stuff like permanent pec implants. (Hmm... feel a little funny having "Male Pectoral Implants Pictures" cached on my computer.) Anyway, these men exist. And they all live in Los Angeles.

Second, I discovered the most offensive yet consistently hilarious publication I have yet to come across: Vice Magazine. Vice Magazine is devoted to everything that is profane and unholy in this universe. Think of it as a South Park, for adults, if there were no FCC. I will not link to it here. But I will link to the best part of the whole operation, the Do's and Don'ts. Every day, readers of Vice send in photos of people off of the street. Some evil genius provides the imperative--"Do" or "Don't"--and a caption. And V - O - I - L - A.

Okay, so I feel a little bad about that last one. But don't say I didn't warn you.

Run, Barack, Run

The obligatory "What if Barack Obama ran for president" post:

Previously, Barack Obama categorically ruled out a 2008 presidential bid, saying things like "I will serve out my six year term" to the media. According to the Chicago Tribune, however, something about the current atmosphere--be it Warner's exit or simply overwhelming pro-Dem sentiment--has got him rethinking his decision. I'm all for it; as Senator Durbin says in the article, does he really think that sticking around the Senate for another 4 years and casting another 1,000 votes will make him more qualified to run? The Nation blog, "The Notion," helpfully suggests that Barack would have a lock on the Facebook group race.

In completely unrelated news, have you ever wondered exactly how much money a candidate has, or how two candidates stack up in the money race? Click here and find out.

Low IQ, High Entertainment

Remember when you were a kid and you dreamt of joining the WWF? And you fractured your little brother's clavicle testing out your pile driver? Or rather, if you are reading/writing this blog, you had your clavicle fractured when your older brother tested out his pile driver on you? (Just kidding. Kind of.) Either way, though, you always wondered if the whole thing was fake?

Well, now you no longer have to wonder what would have happened had you entered the ring. Steve-O and Chris, two of the tragic figures/stars of Jackass 2, actually decided to challenge a professional wrestler to promote their movie. It all went well until about 5 or 6 minutes into their appearance: Steve-O and Chris took to the stage looking like frat boys on a dare, "Umaga the Samoan Bulldozer" (sample commentary: "Umaga is a bad man. An undefeated bad man.") comes out, kicks their butts, and is about to exit stage left. Steve-O and Chris feign great pain and lie still on the ground until... Steve-O decides to break script, get up, and make fun of Chris for playing along. Umaga does not like this, Umaga mad, so Umaga demolish Steve-O... in a way that looks anything but fake. Enjoy.

We agree on immigration?

Foreign Affairs has published a good article reviewing the current immigration impasse and presenting a blueprint for ever-elusive "comprehensive immigration reform." It doesn't break much new ground--and often uses phrases like "busboys and gardeners" as shorthand for low-skilled immigrants (something that even the most liberal commentators are prone to doing)--but it does make a couple of interesting points:

1. Most Americans are in agreement with regard to immigration, supporting immigration policies that continue to allow high levels of immigration, so long as (A) enforcement efforts are bolstered and (B) current undocumented immigrants are allowed a way to "honorably" earn citizenship (i.e. instead of automatic granting of amnesty).

2. Many politicians ignore this consensus, fearing that a core group of supporters--mostly white males lacking college degrees (the author's words, not mine)--will wield influence beyond their numbers and shut down any policies falling in line with the above.

3. Barring the construction of a border wall, traditional law enforcement at the border simply does not work; the Border Patrol budget has tripled in size and quintupled in budget over the past decade, yet undocumented immigrants continue to arrive in the same if not greater numbers.

4. Given (1) and (3), the most intelligent way to improve enforcement would be to provide a legal avenue for most of the current stream of immigrants entering the country. The author analogizes this to the repeal of Prohibition, when allowing and regulating alcohol ended widespread lawlessness.

Again, not groundbreaking stuff, but it is helpful to see an establishment publication like Foreign Affairs addressing this issue in a sensible, unalarmist way. (I.e. instead of that Time magazine cover a couple years back, "The United States of Mexico.")

On Netflix, Evil Movies

Last night I watched The Spirit of the Beehive, an early 1970s Spanish movie that Netflix pushed on me with furious anger and great vengeance. It's about a little girl in post-Civil War Spain who becomes obsessed with Frankenstein and decides to try to track him down by--of course!--running away to the Spanish countryside. She does not find him. Or she kind of does. I don't know, it sucked. I have no idea why the Rotten Tomatometer comes out at 100% for it, and frankly am starting to think that the thing stops working before the late 1990s.

The night before, I finally got around to watching Blue Velvet, a 1980s David Lynch film that's been on my list since Mulholland Drive. People warned me that it was going to be "disturbing" and that "[y]ou probably don't want to watch that one in mixed company." I didn't find it as disturbing as much as I found it incoherent, unlike Mulholland, which was effectively a riddle that made perfect sense once you knew the answer. I have to say, though, that Lynch is unparalleled in his ability to turn a perfectly nice oldie (i.e. "Blue Velvet") into a creepo sexual-deviant anthem.

Finally, I had no idea that this guy made two of the most disturbing movies I have ever seen: Pi and Requiem for a Dream. I had to turn off Pi after about fifteen minutes--this from the guy who watched The Piano Teacher start to finish, no dry-heave breaks. I didn't turn Requiem off, but I did watch it, in its entirety, with my brother, mother, and 86 year-old grandmother. Yeaaah. Anyway, Aronofsky is coming out with a new movie. I will not be seeing it.

All this being said, just so you don't think the Llama is not a movie snob (if you know me, you know that, generally, the more artsy/independent/French the movie, the better) or just a hater, let me make one recommendation: The Beat that My Heart Skipped.

Bill Clinton will not be the next president of Harvard

The Harvard Crimson fronts a curious story on Bill Clinton becoming the next president of Harvard University. Curious because, if you read the article, it becomes exceedingly obvious that there is no chance in hell that Clinton will be named president. Rather, it appears that the writer’s chief motive was to publicly memorialize the fact that he shook hands with Bill.

In other news, however, a little bird recently told the Llama that Dean Harold Koh of the Yale Law School, currently a member of Harvard's Board of Overseers, is in fact high in the running for the presidency of Harvard. Not going to substantiate that. Just going to throw that out there.

Update: A now-medium-sized bird claims that Koh is in fact one of a handful of top candidates; the short-list also reportedly includes Elena Kagan, Dean of Harvard Law School. Again, no substantiation here.