birchy's blabber

Chatting - About me

2010-06-18T15:26:00.000-07:00

This article is a collection of things about me, for use as a conversation starter when talking to strangers.

Things I like:

Genealogy (family history research)

MUSIC: I am very selective, I like strong-yet-unique melodies, preferably songs that would be pop hits, if they had been marketed enough. For example: April Smith and the Great Picture Show, fol chen, Tegan And Sara, Las Ketchup, Peter Schilling, Nena, Anjulie, Amanda Jenssen, The Wailin' Jennys, Bitter:Sweet, Kristen Andreassen, Lenka, Melody Gardot, Metric, Panic Ensemble, Nobody Likes Kenny Some of the traditional commercial music that I like: David Bowie (Ziggy Stardust album), 10cc, Seals and Crofts, Gwen Stefani's Sweet Escape, Gorillaz's Clint Eastwood, The Waitresses, Lilly Allen, Donna Lewis,The Motels, Joe Walsh, Colin Hay, Ben Folds, Heart, Don McLean, Elvin Bishop, Bad Company, Foreigner, George Winston, P. D. Q. Bach, Helen Reddy, Styx, Pink Floyd, Sway by the Pussycat Dolls, The Moody Blues, Fleetwood Mac, Keith Green, Pomplamoose, Craig Nuttycombe, Jim Croce

MOVIES: How to Train Your Dragon, Mary and Max, The Princess Bride, Field of Dreams, The Fifth Element, Cold Comfort Farm, Shawshank Redemption, Waterworld, Emélie, Chocolat, Best in Show, Waiting for Guffman, A Mighty Wind, Office Space, Real Genius, Big Man on Campus, The Royal Tenenbaums, 1944, Die Laughing, The Keep, UHF, The Man with One Red Shoe, Lies and Videotape, Lady Jane, Diva, Bull Durham, The Natural, The Sting, Con Air, Repo Man, Wallace and Gromit, Howl's Moving Castle, Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke, The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension, The Last Unicorn, The Full Monty, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Blues Brothers

TV: Modern Family, House, Glee, Community, Parks and Recreation, Coupling, Picking Daisies, Dollhouse, Men Of A Certain Age, Who Do You Think You Are?, Posh Nosh, Faces of America

WEBCOMICS: QuestContent -- Girls With Slingshots -- RedMeat -- Amazing Super Powers -- Mordant Or ange -- Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal -- Dilbert -- MultiPlex -- Punch&Pie

Projects: I have a geneology website, and am currently building a different, massive-scale website.

When I was in sixth grade, I sat in the "green room" of the Tonight Show. I saw Mickey Rooney and sat next to Susan St. James.

My wife is a fan of Donny Osmond and the Korean "boy band" DBSK/TVXQ. She is working to finish college online. She wants to teach ESL in Korea.

When I was in high school, I was a yearbook photographer. We brewed beer in the darkroom, right next to the vice-principal's office.

I have loved twice and lost once.

My ex-girl friend is a lesbian.

I had head and neck cancer (squamous cell) 5 yrs ago.

My brother-in-law has built his own 747 flight simulator. He's flown around the world to help others build them, including the king of an Arab nation.

My family has volunteered at a tiger sanctuary.

Our family eats lutefisk for Christmas dinner.

When I was young, I could play tennis for hours.

I've slept in a Cheyenne Indian teepee.

I had a small part in a local performance of the play "Lil Abner".

What I've done:

cleaned a butcher shop after school
cleaned a body shop after school
owned a landscaping business
lumberjack (posts and poles)
computer store sales
custom software programmer
desktop publisher (subcontracted for one of Mel Gibson's businesses)
printer
semiconductor manufacturing
IT dept
facilities technician (eg air conditioning and building automation)

Places I've been:

most of the western US
Toronto
London
western and southern Germany, plus parts of Switzerland and Austria

I am married, and have a 20 yr old daughter, three cats and a dog (cockapoo).

About these photos: my dog Peanut playing with a squirrel; snow doesn't fall often in Texas - a snowman my daughter and I made, my wife and daughter walking in "the Woods"; a mourning dove nested in our porch light, had three babies; installing an Italian epitaxial reactor at a former workplace; jumping a pile of sawdust on a trail bike in the Big Horn mountains; Lil Abner play; some critters found at my work place.

Click on the globe to see who I've chatted with, so far.

'Daddy Killed Mommy': the Joel Munt story

2010-04-14T16:40:00.000-07:00

Sunday, March 28, 2010, a woman was driving with her childern in a park on the outskirts of Mankato, MN when she was hit by another vehicle and rammed against a tree. A man got out of the Suburban, pulled out a gun and shot her through the windshield seven times, including a fatal head shot. This is the story of the events that led up to this tragic event.

Disclaimer: This article assumes that Joel is guilty of the murder, and contains considerable conjecture. Some of the information presented may be inaccurate and will be corrected when, and if, a more correct version becomes known to me.

The woman was 32-year-old Russian immigrant Svetlana (Boudniaia and/or Vladimirovna) Munt, the man was her former husband Joel Marvin Munt. They had been divorced for some time and there was a bitter child custody battle. Joel was convinced that Svetlana was mentally unstable and felt powerless to stop the mental and physical abuse to which he was certain his children were subject.

His story is somewhat well documented on his website, which is still online.

Reports differ on which happened first: Joel's decision to divorce or Svetlana's flight with the children to a shelter and claims of abuse. Attempts by outsiders to determine the real nature of the situation hinge greatly on this question.

A news video provides a summary of the event and the situation.

Reading between the lines, here is some speculation about the event.

In April 2009, a Nicollet County judge found that Svetlana was the more mentally capable of the two and awarded her sole custody of the couple's three young children.

Joel was allowed one supervised visit per week with the children, ages 4, 5, and 7. This Sunday at about ten minutes to noon (two hours before his normal visitation time), he was driving in the Rasmussen Woods park near the battered woman's shelter in southwestern Mankato where he was permitted his weekly supervised visit.

His ex wife Svetlana was also driving in the park, with their three children. Joel rammed Svetlana's car pinning it against the woods, his Suburban SUV still in gear, tires smoking. Joel got out and walked around and shot Svetlana as described above. Three shots landed in Svetlana's chest. A man who was walking his dog approached was told to leave by Joel as he brandished his 45 pistol. This person left and called 911.

Moments later, a family in an SUV pulled up to offer help. The driver and his wife got out. When the woman went to check on Munt's children, who were outside the car at that point, Munt pointed his gun at the woman, who later told police she believed Munt was going to kill her in front of her family.

Munt ordered the couple to get their kids out of their SUV. They complied, and the mother told two of her older children to run to the woods and, "Don't look back." After getting the other kids out, Munt loaded his own kids into their SUV and left.

A nearby sheriff's deputy spotted Joel in the stolen vehicle and gave a short chase that ended in a driveway on a dead-end road. Joel made at least one cell phone call before stopping and giving up. He called Traci, his fiance of two years and told her that he loved her and that he was sorry. He said he had another call to make. (perhaps to his parents?)

Munt surrendered peacefully, telling a deputy, "Sorry for causing you this trouble."

One boy in the vehicle had a bloody face with glass embedded in it — Munt told a witness the child was cut when a car window exploded. A pistol and an empty magazine where found on the driver's side floor.

Munt told the officers who arrested him, while they searched for additional weapons, "If you people had done your job protecting my daughter from her mother, she wouldn't have to go through this." With the children crying in the background, Munt told them several times, "Everything is fine now. You will be safe."

Joel was booked into the Blue Earth County Jail and has been arraigned on several charges, including 2nd degree murder, but a grand jury may choose to up that to 1st degree. The children are in protective custody.

Joel Munt made his first court appearance March 30 on charges of second degree homicide. According to the criminal complaint, Munt is charged with six counts, including aggravated robbery and assault in the second degree.

Bail was set at $600,000, with conditions (be on GPS monitoring) and twice that without.although an attorney representing Munt indicated he probably could not afford to post bail.

Prosecutor Patrick McDermott also requested a domestic abuse no-contact order for the children. McDermott and Judge Kurt Johnson agreed Munt’s mother and fiancé were not included in that order.

April 12.

Distraught and depressed, Munt, made his second appearance in Blue Earth County District Court. The only official actions taken during Monday's hearing was Cutcher waiving a reading of the criminal complaint and one addition to Munt's release conditions.

That addition, approved by District Court Judge Norbert Smith, was that Munt be required to be on GPS monitoring if he is released from jail. Smith did not change Munt's bail, which was set at $ 600,000 when the charges were filed March 30.

Cutcher requested another hearing within 28 days, but he said he expected that request to be meaningless.

Pat McDermott, assistant Blue Earth County attorney, will convene a grand jury April 21 to decide whether Munt should be charged with first-degree murder. If Munt is indicted, a new criminal complaint will be filed and the process will start over, Cutcher said.

Munt will not attend the grand jury proceedings, which are secret.

McDermott will be presenting evidence and grand jurors can call their own witnesses. A defense attorney will not have a role in the process, which is expected to last three days.

At least five investigators are still gathering information and preparing evidence to be considered by the grand jury, McDermott said. Defense attorneys are trying to determine if there are grounds to claim Munt is either incompetent to stand trial or if he has an insanity defense. Munt is " very distraught" and " very depressed," but he has been communicating with his attorneys, Cutcher said.

"Up until this event, there had been no history of violence," Cutcher said while discussing a possible insanity defense. " That's one thing we're going to be looking at."

MANKATO — A grandmother whose daughter was shot to death in a Mankato park took her first step Monday toward getting custody of her grandchildren.

The children — 8-year-old Joan Munt, 6-year-old Marvin Munt and 4-year-old Mathew Munt — were placed in foster care after witnessing the March 28 murder of their mother, 32-year-old Svetlana Munt. Their father Joel Marvin Munt, 34, of Burnsville, is accused of shooting Svetlana to death after using his SUV to pin her car against a tree in the parking lot of Rasmussen Woods.

Using an interpreter to translate English into Russian, Liudmila Budnyaya listened while the status of her grandchildren was reviewed Monday by Judge Bradley Walker in Blue Earth County District Court. The children were moved to a new foster home July 1 and Walker said the county will be considering what school they will attend this fall.

On the other side of the courtroom, Joel Munt’s parents, Marvin and Joan Munt of Littlefork, were sitting directly behind their son. They have an attorney representing them in the child custody case, which was put in motion to determine whether Joel Munt’s parental rights should be terminated permanently.

Marvin and Joan Munt’s attorney, Molly French of International Falls, would only say they are requesting to be included in any filings in the case. French would not say if the Munts also plan to request custody of the children.

“It’s a pretty sensitive case,” French said.

Budnyaya and the Munts have been able to visit their grandchildren while they’ve been in foster care. Budnyaya said she visits the children twice a month, and that they’re doing fine considering the situation. Through an interpreter, she said she has moved from her home in Russia to Mankato and plans to request custody of the children.

Her plan would be to stay in the area with the children and her husband, who will be traveling back to Mankato in August.

“The children don’t speak Russian,” she said through her interpreter. “So it would be better for the children to stay here.”

Budnyaya made a request for a court-appointed attorney Monday. She also has sent a letter to President Obama requesting help with the case. She received notice from the White House that the letter was received about a week ago, but there hasn’t been a response.

Bundnyaya also said she does not want to see the children in the custody of Munt’s parents.

Ray Knaak, who attended the hearing with Budnyaya, attempted to translate his friend’s feelings about that possibility. After the hearing, Budnyaya was in tears as she explained that her grandchildren were the only thing she had left to remind her of her daughter’s short life.

“We hope, whatever they do, will be in the best interest of the children,” Knaak said. “What would be the sense of his parents having the children if the court ends his parental rights.”

Mark Lindahl, the assistant Blue Earth County attorney who filed the request to terminate Munt’s parental rights, said he didn’t object to having both grandparents being included as parties in the case.

The future of Munt’s parental rights won’t be decided until after he is tried for his wife’s murder and the kidnapping of his children. He’s also facing several other felonies for threatening onlookers and stealing an SUV from a good Samaritan who stopped to help. A trial date has not yet been set.

A heartwarming story played out in the pages of a hometown online forum.

2009-11-13T19:44:00.000-08:00

A truck driver's pet dog is attacked by a pit bull at a truck stop on the road and flees and cannot be found. The owner looks for a week before having to return to driving trucks. For almost 3 months, the local townspeople try to find her. The owner flies back once to look again. Several possible sightings, but no one can get close enough, and the dog runs away from all people.

It starts with a classified ad

and then continues with a forum posting.

Among other things, this shows the potential (good and bad) of an online hometown forum.

I just found myself

2009-04-20T17:46:00.000-07:00

It took 51 years, but I think I finally figured out who I am.

The first clue that I can remember, was the delight that I had at about 5 years old, in finding a pile of color prints, each one had an image of a domesticated chicken (probably the rooster, or maybe both sexes) with its name. I remember rifling through them with the greatest pleasure. The differences in plumage and shapes was so interesting, surely every possible variant was in my hands and everything one could know about the appearance of chickens was there if one wanted to know.

Over the years, my greatest pleasures have been my "projects". Somewhere I have a book full of notes, gleaned from encyclopedia articles about the members of the noble families of Europe. This was spawned after several years of reading material that referred to so-and-so, queen of one place was the cousin of the prince of such-and-such. Nowhere, however, could I find a very complete description of all these interrelationships, and I wondered what interesting connections/relationships one might see, if only they could see them. Like most of my projects, I lost interest when the scope became unmanageable.

My years have been a string of these projects. The rest of the world exists around me in a detached manner, I participate in it just enough to sustain me for my inner life.

The truth then is that I am an information organization addict. I thrive inside when I'm busy collecting and arranging information in a way that doesn't yet exist (AFAIK) to create something useful or at least interesting.

Newest webcomic discovery

2009-02-16T18:21:00.000-08:00

Check out "SATURDAY MORNING BREAKFAST CEREAL"

Recent music discoveries

2008-11-26T22:10:00.000-08:00

Check out some of my recent favorite music discoveries with this iMeem.com-based player...

Red Meat - webcomic

2008-09-15T18:51:00.000-07:00

This makes the second webcomic that I've read every single strip.

It *almost* seems that the artist is only recycling vintage cartoon images, which often do not change from frame to frame (only the dialog). The dialog is well thought out and usually pretty clever, if by "clever" you mean "slightly macabre". I'm particuarily fond of Earl the strange pyschopath who rides the bus a lot and rarely appears in public with clothes. This might be what King of the Hill would be like if Tim Burton wrote the dialog.

A daily dose of ... NOOB

2008-08-26T17:17:00.001-07:00

Another recent discovery is NOOB, a collection of funny or interesting videos, several added each day. Checking out the latest has been added to my daily regime.

Questionable Content - webcomic

2008-08-26T16:57:00.000-07:00

I recently became addicted to the webcomic "Questionable Content" ( a title that doesn't really describe the comic). I spent two days, non-stop, reading the entire archive. *

It gets better with time, in both in art and in humor. It's kind of a soap opera for male dorks (I guess, since I am one and I like it). The initial premise is a young male geek that befriends an interesting but troubled young coffee shop barrista. Everyone is into "indie" music, but if (like me) you don't care for indie music, you can ignore most of the references. What holds one's interest in this strip, is the interesting characters, presented in such a way that you develop a caring relationship with them and can't wait to see what will happen with them next.

Not as good as Doonebury, Bloom County, etc, but not far off from them either. A bit of a comic version of Friends or Coupling.

*There is a number gap about 2/3 of the way through the archives and a little manipulation of the URL is required to continue through the gap.

Playing with KNOL

2008-08-25T19:42:00.000-07:00

Google's knol.com website is barely a month old. I discovered it about a week ago and have created five articles so far. Check them out and write a review! Please?

Music you haven't heard (but should)

Computer virus removal (Quick & dirty)

Learning Japanese (how to get started)

Posen (Province of Prussia)

Omelets, the easy way

2008-07-30T19:37:00.000-07:00

Feist: 1-2-3-4

If you haven't seen the video, here's a rare one that is actually as good as the song.

Wrong reaction to terrorism

2008-07-30T18:50:00.000-07:00

We blew it.

I know this won't be popular, but it's what I know to be true. Our response to terrorism, should have been to suck it up and not step over the line and compromise what we have always claimed our values to be.

While I wouldn't advocate *no* reaction, we have wasted trillions of dollars on homeland security. If the US population had the guts to accept an occasional terror strike, we could take all the money that we've spent on homeland security and wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and build the Palastinians their own country with income-producing industries. They could eventually grow rich and compete with Israel with wealth instead of bombs.

No longer can we be self-righteous about human rights, etc. We've proven in the last decade, that if we had a Hitler, we'd be Nazis. Politicians have no choice but to react to terror threats in the most extreme measures, to reassure the sheep that they are safe from the wolf. Even if those short term measures have no other possible outcome than to make the long-term situation worse.

UPDATE: Bill Moyer echos these thoughts (see video clip).

New music discoveries (10cc and The Wailin' Jennys)

2008-07-05T06:49:00.000-07:00

I've just discoverd 10cc.

I know they've come and gone, but I hadn't heard the non-hits. They're chock-full of what I like (unique, pleasing melodies). The remind me of Flash In The Pan and Sniff 'n the Tears, as well as Queen. It has been suggested that Bohemian Rhapsody was influenced by the 10cc song Une Nuit A Paris, even though they came out about the same time. One of my favorites is "I Wanna Rule the World".

I found the The Wailin' Jennys on a recent Prairie Home Companion. In fact the songs they did on the show were some of their best (for me) work. I prefer their a cappella work is best. Their version of "The Parting Glass" is what I want played at my funeral, "Paint a Picture" is my favorite, and the "Summertime" cover plus "Bring Me a Lil' Water, Sylvy" have all made my playlists.

A great mp3 tag editor (Kid3)

2007-12-28T23:08:00.000-08:00

Finally, I've found one that has the features/interface that is useful to me.

I don't really need lookups, I prefer to research the music myself for the non-critical tags. And I don't want to sort out all the compilation album data. I want to tag the file with the info from the first album it appeared on.

But that's what what's wrong with some other taggers. (Actually, Kid3 has some lookup features, but I think they are best used if you can put all the mp3 from a certain album in their own directory. I need to quick edit the Song and Artist tags for a bunch that are in the same directory as other files that don't need editing.

Kid3 allows you to scroll down a list of all mp3s in a directory, and when you spot one that's missing some desired tag info, you can stop and extract it from the filename, or from the other tag set. It displays both ID3v1.1 and ID3v2.3.0 (or ID3v2.4.0 if you config it to do so) tags for each file, allowing you to push the data from one tag to the other. This *should* avoid the problems of some tags not showing up in some players.

You can also select a group of files and set all their Artist tags to the same spelling, for example.

The editor is free and lots of other features, but these are the ones that I need. The only way it could be significantly better, is if it would just present files that are missing v2 tags, v3 tags, both, and those whose tags don't match the filenameing template. That would save *so* much time.

Getting old

2007-12-25T14:52:00.000-08:00

I turned 50 a few weeks ago, and find that there are some benefits to age:

* Either it's the age, or other people's exhaustion, but they eventually give up trying to change you

My novel

2007-12-25T11:04:00.000-08:00

I've had a concept for a story for a long time, but I'm not a writer. Rather than leave it rattlin' around in the back of my head until I'm completely senile...

Here's a quick synopsis, off the cuff....

=================
The Gavel and the Bullet (working title)

Christmas was the worst. As he sat in the van, traffic rumbling by, Virgil tried to think of something that needed doing. Something to keep his mind from remembering what life was like for "normal" people. People that didn't have a "great cause". At least not one that virtually guaranteed that they would die violently. That people he cared about would probably die violently before him, and he would have to live his remaining time knowing that he led them to that painful place.

He tried to remember what it was like to married, to have a job, to care about world events, retirement, office politics. To watch the latest TV show, or care about movies. He tried to find a memory that would cut through the pain and the numbness, and make him feel like he belonged, or perhaps some return to childhood innocence. But he failed, or maybe didn't have the energy to try hard enough. And so, like so many times before, his thoughts drifted back to that night, when he stepped through to the other side.

====

He hadn't been in his right mind. It had been a crappy day, a crappy year. He'd driven as far into the night as he could and when the car sputtered to a stop, it's last gasp of gasoline sneezed back into the carburator, he found himself lost and very alone. Which was how he felt inside when he started the flight, and now he was that way on the outside, too. Somehow that gave him some resolution, that his outside and inside matched, and he felt more balanced and didn't need to continue to flee.

He sat there for a while, working on that realization, mostly subconsciously. Looking around, he remembered the spontaneous choices that led up to his current location only as a general blur. He was somewhere south of the city, but if he had his cell phone, and if there was a working network, he wouldn't have been able to tell someone where to find him. He would have to walk until he found a landmark. But he didn't care. He didn't want to be found. He wasn't sure if he ever wanted to return to anything. If he had a gun...

...or some way to redirect the car's exhaust into the inside. Ooops, out of gas. There was a dropoff to the side, so he headed for that, hoping for a log or big rock to sit and brood. He was in the woods, on a little-used road, probably on a farm or gravel pit or some junkyard's backyard. It was too dark to see much and the woods that had passed by his window had been in pockets mostly. But he was in them now, and he'd found a dark private refuge to wallow in his hurt.

Finding a place to sit, he sat. It was a dry creek bed and it felt secure. Sometimes he thought little, letting his subconcious churn, processing the horror of it all. And sometimes he'd relent and deal with it in his deliberate mind.

He'ld come home early. He walked in on them. She'd laughed at him and then she told him to leave. And then she came out and tried to make arrangements for him to pick up his things in a few days, maybe have coffee and discuss the divorce. There were some attempts to make it sound normal, sound good. She'ld obviously planned that speech for a long time, and drug it out way to early for him to be the audience she wanted. His world turned upside down. His sense of being was sliced and shredded, and so he fled.

How many times had that scene re-played in his mind as he sat there? 300 hundred? A thousand? The creek bed must have shielded him from some of the sounds. As he came out of his reverie, he rewound his memory and realized that he'd heard some other sounds outside his awareness. Muffled talking mostly, then shouting. It was the gun shots that roused him. And now the last of them echoed, and then kept echoing in his brain.

"Great", Virgil thought. "I was wondering how it could get worse." Most people, including himself, would be panicked and start running away from those sounds. So deep was his dispair, however, so strong was his dislike of what his life had become, that the thought that brought him to his legs, was the thought that if he was lucky, he might get himself accidently or intentionally shot. So much so, that he grabbed a short branch and resolved himself, when he found the source of the gunshots, to break into a run and lunge at the nearest armed man. He was back up on the road now, the same one that he'd driven over, wondering why he heard no more noises, was he going the right direction? Rounding a slight bend, he soon knew that he had run the correct direction. He almost forgot to yell, as he threw himself towards the two cars, one of which was illuminated by its dome light. His suicide wasn't working either, no one appeared to gun him down in startled reaction. Just these to damn cars. No wait. There's some dark lumps on the ground, one of which is moving a little. And groaning.

Standing there, he tried to take it all in. He was standing in a grisly crime scene, the kind you see on TV. The gunshots replayed through his mind and he landed on an explanation. There had been a lot of them, like a pack of firecrackers, a pause, and then two last ones, almost simultaneous. "Pa-Pow." He stood there a long time, processing. He shifted his stance now and then, trying to see more detail, when he felt that he could process some more gore. He was alone with dead people. This reality and the recent excercise was pushing his hurt away. He almost revelled in feelings that a normal person would experience. He envisioned being interviewed on TV, telling the story at the office. He delved into explanatory scenarios, things like gangland executions.

Eventually, he grew tired of all the nothing. No more groaning, not a movement anywhere. So he strode up to the nearest lump, somewhat illuminated by the light on the inside panel of the one open car door. Gave it a ginger tap on the bottom of its shoe and when no response was sensed, promounced to himself, "Dead". He found four more, two of them still clutching bags. One of the bags was actually a briefcase. All were dead. If not, he hoped one of them would suddenly sit up and pump a few shots into him. He wasn't filled with suicidal dispair at that time, it was just a residual expression of an intense feeling that he'd traded in for thoughtless risk-taking. It would wear off soon, but for now, he was daring life to do its worst. He felt more alive than he ever remembered (he realized later) and was riding a crest of cleansing exultation.

What should he do now? Take a gun? Take all the guns? Take one of the cars? Take a look through everything? He started with the bag. It was drugs. Hmm, he thought. That's what they look like. The briefcase was filled with money. A lot of money. So he did what anyone would do.

He closed it, grabbed it and ran. Like a jackal stealing prey from a lion. He didn't run too long, his fitness level was what one would expect from a work-aholic desk jockey. So he walked, and walked and walked, stopping to rest when he had to, trying to stay ahead of his thoughts, which caught up to him and began tormenting him in ernest. He fought them, using justifications and rationalizations to counter the guilt and the realizations of folly.

One of the first outposts of civilization that he encountered, was a Philips 66 station, with a motel behind it. The bathroom at the gas station was typically gross, and that was where he transferred some money to his pocket. He bought some snacks and checked into the motel.

...

And that is how he ended up sitting in this van tonight (a van paid for with the stolen drug money), waiting for Mr. Mustache to come home. Mr. Mustache had a real name, and our "hero" knew it, of course. But he enjoyed the false sense of power that renaming someone implied. This same false sense of power was being generated through the van's interior, which looked more like his old electronics lab, but with more notebook computers. One computer was a display for security cameras, showing eight different views of the street around the van, in that abstract graininess of infrared images. Two other cameras showed similar multipaned camera images, most of vacant spaces - many from unusual angles of view. Three more were idling, waiting to record audio from dozens of hidden devices scattered in Mr. Mustache's townhouse and tiny backyard. Another displayed a map and a moving icon.

Virgil had become a vigelante. He still had some of the original drug money. And he still had all of the money that he stole from the dead pusher's replacement last year. Now he was working on his third heist, wondering what mistakes he'd made in the early stages, what mistakes he was still making, which one would get him and/or his co-conspirators killed. Or worse.

Cindy was a hooker. Well, that was the last "real" job she'd had. These days she'd had several jobs, some real, some just part of the personas. They met one morning when he was trying to plant a bug. She kept bugging him, and he'd taken a risky chance that he would no longer take these days. Back then he was nervous and desparate to plant the device and bug out. He should have just abandoned the mission, come back later. He thought she had given up and left him alone, but it's hard to dissaude a working girl by loitering around a doorway on her turf. Why she was even working at that time of the day was a mystery. She should have been out in the evening, when his targets would be inhabiting that doorway.

So she had seen him plant the bug. And he saw that she had seen it. So he unplanted it and tried to escape. He expected her to make a scene, to yell and attract attention. But her voice was low, and her body blocking motions were the same she used to work customers that needed some time to realize that she could be their perfect date for the next half hour. "What was he doing?" "What was that thing in his hand?" Like a child with cookie crumbs on his face, our hero could only respond with inane responses and denials. He'd practiced some scenarios for being caught, and had some pepper spray in his pocket, but this wasted bit of flesh before him had him completely flumoxed.

The situation ground on like this for a minute or so, and Virgil was desparate to escape. The hooker stopped and studied his face at length, and then she whispered conspiratorially, "Please buy me some coffee. We can talk. We might be on the same side." Virgil had nothing to talk to her about, but he'd rather not talk to her somewhere else, anywhere else.

She led him to a gas station and he bought two coffees and a pack of powdered sugar donuts, which they took outside. He could make a break for it, but he was still trying to decide how much this lady had compromised his mission, whether he would have to break it off and move on to another candidate. "Are you a cop?" she asked, and just before he gave the answer which took too long to formulate (which was "yes"), she answered for him. "No, you're not a cop..." "Why would someone, who's not a cop, be bugging where Rolo hangs?" She watched Virgil's eyes closely as she said the name "Rolo", and got what she was looking for. "Who are you working for?" This was obviously rhetorical, and Virgil responded by studying a crack in the sidewalk. Two ants were tugging on the same piece of something, generally making progress toward the street, but not nearly as much as they would have if the cooperated.

"How do I find out whose side you're on? she speculated out loud, fishing for a solution. Virgil found his voice and asked "Who is Rolo?", without trying to sound ernest. "Whose side are *you* on," he continued, and then, "who is..." (trying to form a thought "...against this Rolo?"

"I am" she blurted, and then looked surprised. The conversation had turned intimate in a blink of an eye, two tortured souls had made a connection and impulsively trusted each other. Each studied the eyes of the other and found no warning sign that the trust was folly. Then they both looked away and studied some meaningless view, searching for the next step, a direction. Cindy opened the donuts and wolfed one down, gulping at her coffee, and brushing the powdered sugar from her lips with the back of her hand. "What do you have against Rolo?" he asked quietly. "I have my reasons," Cindy said, firmness in her voice.

===

He found out later that Rolo had killed her two year old son. Rolo had been her pimp's boss. Virgil didn't go back to replant the bug, Cindy gave him more info than a dozen bugs would have. Five weeks later, he'd made his second heist, while Cindy was at rehab. She got out a few months later, and then a few months after that, and then she checked herself out two weeks after that. Virgil had paid for the rehabs (well technically, some dead pusher had), and had made Cindy his "other" mission. She seemed to want to get clean, but not because she wanted a better life, she just didn't want to continue her old life. After the three attempts, she gave up. Not able to solve her problem, Virgil made a deal with the devil and brought her in. Every logical reasoning was against it, but he needed her help and his instinct was that the work would keep her mind off of using.

She was good. She could drop bugs in places that he couldn't bluff his way into, without any nervousness. He would worry about her every time she came back from a mission, her demeanor having reverted back to her days of addiction. As much as possible, though, he steered her to more "upscale" missions, as time progressed he was going after people higher and higher up the food chain. She always wore at least two wires, and they reviewed the recordings over and over afterwards, critiquing and playing "what if". "What if someone you know showed up?" "What if you walk into a sting and get arrested?" "What if the kingpin wants to take you to dinner?" "What if his muscle wants to play?"

Virgil realized early (but not early enough) that they were being way too risky working heists in Atlanta, where people knew them, and transferred operations to Tampa. He also stopped letting Cindy use roles from her old life, and they developed a portfolio of personas. Virgil never really became all that convincing, except perhaps as cable installers or other technicians. As more conspirators came on board, Virgil became the puppetmaster, and developed a habit of constantly mumbling to himself.

Cindy bought her dead son a new grave, but never, ever visited it. Virgil took her some pictures, and she kept them.

They never talked about her son again, but they both thought about him, together, in the darkness of a van or one of Virgil's safehouses. They would pass long hours sharing this silence, Virgil preferred sharing Cindy's grief, instead of rehashing his failed marriage/life. He did plenty of that too, when Cindy was gone.

He'd checked on his a few times, but she seemed to have happily moved on with her life. She was married (and pregnant the last time) to some new guy. He'd never talked to her once after that fateful night. He'd sent a postcard, carefully worded to make his dissapearance as non-suscipious as possible. He'd called his boss, apologized for missing the last several days, and resigned his position, citing marriage troubles and the need to leave town. He did this from a pay phone. He'd thought of using a prepaid cell phone, but then thought that that might arrouse extra suspicion if anyone check the phone records. He said he was going to live with his brother in California for a while. Which he had actually foolishly considered, but Roger had moved from the last known address/phone number and Virgil knew that would make it conveniently difficult for anyone to find him through his brother. Roger was Virgil's only remaining family, and Virgil had no real friends. It wasn't that Virgil couldn't have had friends, but he had always buried himself in his work. This preoccupation was the single greatest source of discontent with his ex-wife, He'd try to be more attentive, to be a better husband/companion, but would always fall back into his old habits. The last time, it seemed like Janice had finally accepted him as he was, and had stopped nagging him about it. She seemed happier, and Virgil felt relieved. Janice hadn't accepted, however, but had moved on.

Perhaps Virgil would have moved on also, if he hadn't stolen a briefcase of money. He might have found another woman. But he came to understand that any other woman would be just as unhappy with him as Janice had been, a realization that left him dispondant when he dwelled on it. Filling his days with surveilance activities kept him from dwelling on such dreary matters, replaced that dismal life with one that was often exhilerating.

Jay was another matter. Jay wasn't a tortured soul, just an adventurer trapped in a nerd's body. Unlike Cindy, Jay was a wreck on missions, his stutter becoming pronounced. It didn't take long for them to turn that to an advantage, his face had been formed a little strangely anyway, long and a bit goofy. If someone become suspicious, Jay acted confused, and stuttered intermiably.

They'd met on the phone, when Virgil was trying to obtain some electronics that only the military should have. He'd tried to convince Jay that he was working on a hobby project, but Jay kept stringing him along. Jay would agree to sell the parts, but kept making up excuses for delaying the delivery, all the time pumping Virgil for information about the project. After a few months of this, Virgil decided to write the effort off. He felt pretty secure that his contacts were untraceable, so he finally just told Jay exactly what he wanted the parts for. He did it jokingly, actually adding some extra drama to it. And then he started to tell Jay to forget it before hanging up. But Jay wasn't daunted at all. After a few weeks of begging, Virgil agreed to let Jay help in a limited manner, still trying to keep distance, to protect both parties. Eventually, he relented and brought Jay in 100%.

Virgil didn't like it. But his activities were becoming more successful. His arsenal of tools was becoming more sophisticated.

Virgil's greatest fear was in getting caught by the police, on whatever level. Prison was not somewhere Virgil wanted to spend the rest of his life. He'd taken to carrying suicide pills, and Cindy and Jay did also. Jay's contacts with the military were a constant source. If he disappeared, would someone invistigate? If he didn't disappear, would he accidently spill the beans?

He worried about Cindy, but not so much about her getting killed. He'd become convinced that she had little chance of a decent happily-ever-after life. Between missions, she was restless and reckless. She had a face that could be either ugly or pretty, depending on her mood. Between missions, she was sullen and the best way to get through those breaks was to drug herself to sleep. She'd sleep on and off for a few days, drag herself into the bathroom and not emerge for hours. When she finally did, she was bright and cheery, usually and for a few hours life seemed normal. But unless a mission was emminent, she'd slide into a mope. And Jay, bless his heart, would make things worse. They got along fairly well on missions, when Cindy would take charge in the field, but he didn't know how to deal with her otherwise.

But Jay's safety did worry Virgil. Jay had insisted on joining the team, and swore up and down that he knew the dangers and was willing to accept the consequences. But Virgil knew better. To Jay, it was just a game. A game he wanted to play, not to be the towel boy. He was in it for the ego, and ego's need to brag. Virgil was convinced that when things went wrong, it would probably because Jay's inner child shot his mouth off somewhere. At least he didn't drink...

Virgil tried to quit once, but he let Cindy talk him out of it. It hadn't been hard, but he promised himself, that if he could ever think of something else that they both could do to make life tolerable, he'd quit in a heartbeat. In the early stages, he'd given a lot of lip service in his thoughts to how his activities were for the "greater good", that he was some kind of Zorro. But he was too pragmatic to hang his hat on that hook for too long. He was in it for the excitement, the pseudo power, the distraction from life's heartaches. One second he felt like a predator, stalking unsuspecting prey; the next, he would be the prey, hoping to avoid the gavel and the bullet.

Maybe someday, when his war chest was big enough, he'd find charitable uses for the excess. But for now, he didn't have enough safehouses, escape plans, and spy tools. He had dreams of huge computing resources, processing covert recordings for interesting conversations. And he balked at charity. Philanthropic giving was problematic. It was hard to give anyone money without leaving a trail. Also, thinking about those who were in need of help, made it hard for him to live in this other world. Maybe he would just learn how to do the Swiss bank account thing and use it to give to the top 10 charities. He'd cross that bridge later...

The tracking device under the car registered to Mr. Mustache was finally coming home. The icon on the monitor suddenly appeared on the map a few blocks from Virgil's van, jumping half a mile from it's last location. Virgil sat up, licked his lips and keyed an alert code (2 short beeps) into the communicators. He typed a cryptic note about developing a movement detection alert for the program and uttered what had become a ritual expression, "Show time!"

online music player/storage/community

2007-11-04T20:38:00.000-08:00

AnyWhere.FM is relatively new on the scene, I stumbled upon this online music player / organizer / community tool, which I'm finding to be fairly worthwhile. It's like Windows Media Player, but online. You upload your mp3s and can then play them from almost any computer in the world. Other users can play them too, but only in "radio-station" style from your playlists. That is, the song order within a playlist is random, and one can only skip 6 songs in a list, to stay within the licensing agreements. This is much like Live 365, a "be your own DJ" site, but a lot easier to use. Live 365 has more DJ tools, but for simple playlist publishing, it's easy.

The site is a little buggy, some of the flash controls quit working (e.g. column sorting) and you have to refresh the page. About once an hour, the site will refresh itself ("update") and you have to resume what you were doing.

I've been slowly working on the tags for my mp3s, but you can do so with this online player as well. Unfortunately, you can't download your songs, so your local copies can't me updated.

Adding playlists couldn't be easier, and adding *to* playlists is simple drag n drop.

And finally, there are community features, including a matching function, to see who else has a significant number of the same songs in their collections. You can browse the other users and listen to their playlists.

More music you need: Lotus (a capella)

2007-10-14T20:52:00.000-07:00

LotusAn a capella group of four women based out of Moscow, Idaho in the early 1990's, and disbanded some time after when their lives took different turns. Their only CD is long out of print, probably never marketed by their label, if you hadn't been to one of their performances, then you'ld probably never obtain one. Every song is good.

One or two of the original members reformed with new singers as "Mockingbird", which will be featured in the next posting.
Rosehip November

More music you need: Peter Schilling

2007-10-05T09:29:00.000-07:00

The "Error in the System" album

Major Tom (coming home)

Like Nena's "99 Luftballoons", this same-year one-hit wonder import from Germany comes on an album that has no dogs. They're all good, especially "Lifetime Guarantee". The title track is a revisit of David Bowie's "Space Oddity".

Track Listings (the English only re-issue)
1. Only Dreams
2. Lifetime Guarantee
3. Error in the System
4. Major Tom (Coming Home)
5. Major Tom, Pt. 2
6. (Let's Play) U.S.A.
7. I Have No Desire
8. Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht (Silent Night, Holy Night)

More music you need: The Waitresses

2007-10-05T08:42:00.000-07:00

I Know What Boys Like

Info about this song's album (most songs pretty good)

Track listing

"No Guilt"
"Wise Up"
"Quit"
"It's My Car"
"Wasn't Tomorrow Wonderful?"
"I Know What Boys Like"
"Heat Night"
"Redland"
"Pussy Strut"
"Go On"
"Jimmy Tomorrow"

More music you need: Las Ketchup

2007-10-05T07:16:00.000-07:00

The Ketchup Song (This is one where the video *should be* watched from the get-go.)

There is a "Spanglish" version, but it's really "Gibb-lish", as all the non-English parts are really Spanish-sounding gibberish, based on an approximation of the SugarHill Gang's "Rapper Delight":
"I said a hip hop the hibbit, the hibbit
to the hip hip hop, and you dont stop
rock on baby bubba to the boogie the bang bang
the boogie to the boogie, the beat"

More about the song and the group

More music you need: Lorraine Feather

2007-10-04T23:52:00.000-07:00

I discovered Lorraine in the CD bin at my local library.

Remembering to Breathe (For once, a video that doesn't detract too much from the song. Still, my mind's eye is better....)

More video, showcasing a master lyricist, exeptional singer giving new life to old jazz classics:
The 101
Rockin' in Rhythm

My favorites from the dooji wooji album:

Remembering to Breathe
I Know the Way to Brooklyn (sample)
Once Bitten (sample)
Shameful (sample)
Tryin' to Get Over (sample)

A review of the album
Lorraine's website

More music you need: Nena

2007-10-04T23:33:00.000-07:00

More than just "99 Luftballoons", the rest of that album is all gold.

Leuchtturm

Rette Mich

Nena - Rette Mich

Nur Geträumt ("Just a Dream")

This one has a cheesy video, but uses the studio version and is therefore better than the live performances.

The tracks from this album are:

99 Red Balloons (English version) (sample)
"?" ("Fragezeichen") (sample)
Hangin' on You ("Ich Häng´ an Dir") (sample)
Just a Dream ("Nur Geträumt") (sample)
Let Me Be Your Pirate ("Lass Mich Dein Pirat Sein") (sample)
Kino ("Cinema") (sample)
Das Land der Elefanten ("The Land of the Elephants") {Love the synthesizer elephants} (sample)
Leuchtturm ("Lighthouse") (sample)
Rette mich ("Save Me") (sample)
Uner Kannt Durch's Märchenland ("Unrecognized in the Fairytale Land") (sample)
99 Luftballons ("99 Balloons", German version) (sample)

More music you need: Lilly Allen

2007-10-04T22:42:00.000-07:00

Most of these videos take away from the songs. Probably better to close your eyes and just listen, at least until you've got your own mental picture.

Smile [Warning: Language]

ldn (I've substituted a homemade video that doesn't detract from the music as much as the artist's own music video does.)

More music you need: Nelly Furtado

2007-10-04T22:29:00.000-07:00

Baby Girl

Turn Off the Light

Unique Melodies + Music you need: Tegan and Sara

2007-10-04T19:09:00.000-07:00

I like a wide variety of music, a very eclectic mix. *But* I have an extremely strict guideline: it must have a unique melody.

Unique: if it sounds like all the other songs, I get bored.

Melody: I could care less about lyrics. If they happen to be good, great. If they are offensive, they'll nix an otherwise catchy candidate. These melodies sseduce their way into your inner dialog. They may be instant, quickly accessible favorites, or they may sound strange at first and when your mind/ear synapses get a few exposures, they'll grow to love 'em.

Examples: Almost anything by Paul Simon, Billy Joel, Paul McCartney. Most of the Ziggy Stardust album by David Bowie. The first two Seals and Crofts albums (none of which were played on the radio). Most of the "99 Luftballoons" album by Nena. Some of Lorraine Feather's songs. Hardly any country or rap. Some of the pre-slut Nelly Furtado. "The Ketchup Song" by Las Ketchup. Some Lilly Allen.

Here are some of my favorites that you may not have heard, but should, starting with my...

= Latest discovery =

Tegan and Sara

I Know, I Know, I Know

Where Does the Good Go?

Living Room

And Darling (This Thing That Breaks My Heart)

Princess Di killed by photographer?

2007-10-03T13:15:00.000-07:00

Recently released photos confirm that just before the crash, a photographer was directly in front of the car, taking (at least two) flash photos of the inside of the car. This flash would have blinded the driver. According to the police reports, the accident began when the car hit a curb, swerved away, swerved back again and then crashed into a pillar.

Whether or not the white Audi hit the Mercedes, or whether the Mercedes hit the white Audi still appears to be in question. One of the released photos is attributed to "Jacques Langevin", who has claimed for years that he only took pictures at the hotel, and "stumbled" upon the wreck afterwards. Did this famous war-correspondent/journalist kill these people by driving in front of them and blinding the driver with at least two high-intensity flashes?

The USA government gets all concerned if someone points a laser pointer at an aircraft pilot, even if they are thousands of feet away....

UPDATE:

Ongoing testimony confirms the above:
Guardian article
A motorist who witnessed the crash ... told how he had seen a "major white flash" moments before the tragedy. ... Mr Levistre described how a motorbike had overtaken the princess's car in the tunnel. ... he had then seen a very bright flash, which had been directed at the Mercedes. ... "The light even came into my car. ... The light was not directed towards me. It was directed towards the car which was behind. ... When I saw the light, I looked into the mirror ... I saw the car going from left to right to left again to get within the pillar." ...

Mr Levistre also told how he had stopped near the exit from the Pont de l'Alma tunnel following the accident ... He saw the motorcycle passenger get off the motorbike, approach the car, and then gesture to the bike's driver before climbing back on and driving off. ... the bike's occupants looked at him before passing his car and leaving the underpass.

He also said he saw a small white car in the tunnel, but maintained that there was no contact between this and the Mercedes.