Camera Cell Phones & 'Happy Slapping'

Ah, technology. We invent cell phones, so we can talk loudly whilst driving badly. Not content with that, we invent digital cameras built into the cell phones, for no legitimate purpose that we can discover. Apparently, nobody else can, either.

But we're a creative lot. If we can't figure out what the camera built into the cell phone is for initially, we'll eventually suss it out.

Schools Ban Camera Phones Amid 'Happy Slapping' Craze

By Tim Ross, PA Education Correspondent

Head teachers have banned children from using video phones to stop them slapping other pupils in the face and recording the attacks on their mobiles.

The violent new craze among teenagers – dubbed “happy slapping” – has been plaguing commuters on trains and buses in London.

So this is what cell phone cameras are for! You approach a stranger on a train, slap the shit out of them, and record the slap and their reaction with your cell phone camera. And you share it with your friends, and we all get a great yuck out of it.

I wonder what happens when they slap an armed psycho who then proceeds to put a large calibre bullet through young Ploppy's forehead as the camera records it?

Well, we'll find a way to blame society.

I have nothing more to say about that.

Best,

Wiggy

New Puppies & See-Throo Delights

Seems we've been infested with puppies...here are the newest additions to Chez Wigwam...

This is Milo:



This is Molly with Mrs. Wiggy:



And here are the two of them trying to impress me with their alertness:



Seems they were abandoned in a dumpster outside a vet's office in Nashville, and the local animal rescue group was called and grabbed them up. Mrs. Wiggy discovered them being adopted out at a local pet food store, and we ended up adopting two of them, a brother and a sister. Ten weeks old or thereabouts. Pure 100% American Mutt, crossbred by Nature's God.

They seem to be little poop machines so far. I mean, that's pretty much all they do, eat and poop. And get into things they shouldn't be into. And lick ever buddy's faces whenever they get a chance. And cry all night. Woah, I just realized...they're just like me. No wonder I like 'em so much.

And that brings me to another thing. Meetings. Ah, I'm getting somewhat better at going to them, let me tell you. I used to just hate them with a passion previously reserved only for people who hum Barry Manilow songs and you get them stuck in yer punkin' haid all danged day, but now I go to them, even if it is with somewhat of a sense of resignation.

I have discovered my note-taking abilities, you see. Well, I'm not really taking notes. I look like I'm taking notes, that's for sure. But what I'm really doing is writing song lyrics. Great place for it. And working on my novel, of course.

And doodling. I used to doodle in grade school (that's the first six years or so of public schooling, for those of you outside the USA). Doodling is great fun, it makes the time go by quickly, and you can get absorbed in it pretty easily.

I used to draw geometric designs, usually centered around the cube, drawn in three dimensions. Then I would add a roof and it would be a house. Then I'd put a couple of clouds in there, and a lightning bolt coming out of one of the clouds and hitting something that I'd show blowing to pieces. I'd even put a sound effect in there, usually 'Zot!' as in the old B.C. comic strip. "Clams got legs!" Hehehehe. I loved that.

So I'm doodling again. But now, in addition to doodling geometric designs that ultimately give way to darker visions, I also draw caricatures of people in the meetings. Not good ones - I'm about as talented drawing as I am with singing. But humorous.

Well, ok. Not really humorous. I'm searching for the word. Um...funny. Nope. Uh, clever. No, that's not it. Wait - I've got it! Insulting. Yes, that's what they are. Insulting. Not to me, of course. But to those whom I've drawn, for sure. But then, I'm so bad at it, that I doubt the people I'm drawing would recognize themselves. They'd probably help me add the stitches and scar marks and vampire teeth, not even knowing that it was supposed to be them. Yeah.

And now we come to the end of my daily rant. Which isn't always daily, and today it is hardly a rant. But let's see what we can do to spice it up a bit, eh?

I got a whole slew of messages posted here recently about a misidentification I had made - some accused anarchist-cum-vandal who was recently arrested here in North Carolina had the same name as a designer of, um, bee-yootiful clothes in Los Angeles at some place called "SEE-THROO." Here's a link to it:

SEE-THROO

OK, so I got the wrong person. And I'm sorry about it. Really I am. I should have been more careful. Go to SEE-THROO and buy some stuff, tell 'em I'm sorry in that most American of ways - with cash or credit cards.

However, because of my error, I got to get some postings from the actual owner of SEE-THROO, a fella who apparently finds my rustic ways charming, or at least amusing. He claims not to know what Rough Trade is. Can you imagine? If yers truly, a hick from the sticks, knows what Rough Trade is, you'd think that an uber hipster from the City of Angels would know. I think he oughta take a trip to Greenwich Village, how about you? Oh wait, he's not just in LA, he's in Hollywood! On Sunset, no less!

Should we tell him that yers truly used to hang at the Whisky-a-Go-Go, trading riffs with the late D. Boone (Minutemen), Diamanda Galas, and Geza X? "Thank you sir, but I'd rather not be Hungarian!" He wants to know our creds - claims to be a country music fan. Shall we tell him he can find our face gracing the cover of "Somebody got their head kicked in!" - from Better Youth Organization?



BYO History



Ah, who knows? Gentle reader, yer Wiggy is what happens when Punks get old. We get wrinkles, we get jobs, we lose our hair and get fat, we get married and we adopt cats and puppies. We stop pretending we can change the world and work on trying to keep our remaining teeth from rotting out of our punkin' haids. We have 401(k) plans and mortgages and credit card debt and old cars with rust. And we have day jobs that let us keep writing songs and taking photos. The wave didn't come for all of us, boys and girls, and we didn't end up making movies with Henry Rollins. Not that we're complaining - a wife who loves you, a nice house on a quiet street and a cold beer in the evening is pretty damned nice too.

See ya at Okie Dogs, my "alternative fashion" friends...



Wigwam Jones

One Hand Doesn't Know, Yadda, Yadda

It comes down to this:

As he thought he was about to be deported to Ireland, a stunned and bemused Ciaran Ferry looked on as an expletive-laden row erupted between law enforcement officers charged with removing him from the country.

One arm of the US federal government was trying to execute a federal order deporting Ferry to Ireland, while another was trying to execute a federal 'no fly' list entry which prevented Ferry from flying.

"It spooked all the passengers on the flight to Dublin," Ferry said in a phone interview.

Yeah, no screamin' eagle shit. I'd have been freaked-out too.

A spokesman for the Port Authority police said that the authority officers were only present to assist the TSA. The mix-up over Ferry's flight status, he said, had been a federal one.

Well it is good to know that it wasn't the airport employees with their heads up their asses. Only the feds. No problem, then.

And while we're on the subject of idiotic US federal government decisions...let's talk about cigarette lighters.

TSA Bans Cigarette Lighters

You know, about 25 percent of the adult population of the USA smokes. No doubt that's declining (and your Wiggy gave up the Evil Weed six months ago, hurrah), but the fact is that a significant minority of the population smokes. And nicotine is a drug. And smokers are addicted to it. Still with me? This is not difficult stuff, folks.

Now, then.

In December, 2001, a complete idiot tried to light some explosives concealed in his shoes on fire. He used some matches to try to do it, but he failed. I guess he had walked in a mud puddle before boarding his flight or something, and his shoes were too wet to ignite. Probably out smoking in the rain, since smoking is banned in most airports in the USA (from the Department of Irony).

Anyway, that was 2001. A few months after the terror of 9-11. Hasn't happened again, that I'm aware of. You? No. Right, then.

Here we come to 2005. The TSA (The new Brownshirts) has announced that they will be banning cigarette lighters and matches in February of this year. That's a couple of weeks from now.

OK, here are a few questions for the TSA:

1) How do you detect lighters, and especially, matches?
2) What will the smokers, now forced to stand around in the outside weather, do for a smoke while waiting to board their flights?
3) Are you all complete idiots?

And since I aim to please, here are a few answers:

1) You won't be able to detect the lighters most times, and almost never the matches.
2) The smokers will find ways to outwit you. Which isn't too hard.
3) Yes, you are all complete bumbling idiots, those of you who aren't outright criminals.

Smokers smoke, my friends. It's a drug, they're addicted. Get over it. Smokers have put up with an awful lot in the past. In airports, they're especially harried. Few places to smoke, stressful situations, long waits between times & places they can smoke, a generally resentful anti-smoking audience in many cities, and so on. Now you're going to make them wait NOT until they clear security, NOT until they get to their gate, NOT until they board their plane, NOT until they land, NOT until they disembark, NOT until they get their baggage, NOT even until they leave the airport, but UNTIL they can find a convenience store and BUY a new lighter to take the place of the one they had confiscated at the airport. Oh yeah, THAT'S going to work.

And I don't want to hear from any of your anti-smokers going on about how smoking is bad for anyone. My diatribe is not about smoking and the health effects it creates. My rant is about how stupid the TSA is for even thinking that this was a good idea.

Since we know that smokers are going to smoke, it makes sense to believe that they're going to react to this ban just the way Americans reacted to the 55MPH speed limit. They're going to ignore it. Yes, the TSA will find and confiscate a few lighters, the occasional pack of matches. If they're on the ball and they smell cigarette smoke on a person's clothes, they may search extra hard for them. Some few smokers will comply with the law and discard their smoking utensils before they get on the plane.

But most of them are going to choose to disregard the new rule, and they'll get away with it.

Why is this bad? It seems like the solution to the problem - just ignore a stupid rule, and everyone gets on with their lives.

But it breeds something bad. That is, more flouting of the law. When you make status criminals out of 25% of the population, you encourage everyone to disobey laws and rules that they find inconvenient - and that hurts everyone.

Anyway, what's this all about all of a sudden? Richard Reid pulled his sneaker stunt back in 2001 - and NOW they decide that matches pose a threat? Those Chechen women blew up the Russian planes just a couple of months ago, and the TSA jumped at the opportunity to grab a few boobies with the feeble excuse that they were looking for explosives.

Ah, this is just stupid all the way around. But then, the TSA has never impressed me with their towering intellect. Bullies, thugs, criminals, and congenital idiots is all I've ever thought of 'em.

And that's the end of that rant.

G'Day,

Wiggy

Wither Pablo Paredes?

Who is Pablo Paredes? He's a guy who thinks that the USA should not be involved in a war in Iraq. Lots of people think that. And of course, he's free to think that, and to say it. But Pablo is also a Petty Officer in the US Navy. His ship, the USS Bonhomme Richard, was due to leave San Diego with 3,000 US Marines on board in December, and Pablo presumed it was heading to Iraq and the war he felt was wrong - even illegal. So, he refused to go. He made quite a show of sitting on the dock and watching it sail away, then filing his paperwork with the US Navy as a conscientious objector and turning himself in for desertion. He presently awaits trial:

Infoshop Story on Pablo Paredes

Some may feel Pablo is a hero - others may feel he is a coward. However, history has tossed him a big wet juicy one - the Bonhomme Richard didn't go to Iraq after all. According to the US Navy, that is where it was originally headed, but circumstances changed. Argh, kicked in the snarglies again!

It went to Sumatra. Where the US Marines on board are aiding the victims of the recent tsunami there:

US Navy - USS Bonhomme Richard News

Powerline Blog Entry on Bonhomme Richard

So, wither Pablo Paredes? Better start saying your Mea Culpas. And don't count on your new anti-war friends to help you; you got the funk on you now, and they're going to drop you like a hot rock.

Good luck in prison, dude.

Smooches,

Wiggy