Monday, August 14, 2006

Identikit Fun - A composite drawing of Hitler



Click one of the Hitlers to enlarge


A few years ago, for a research project, I purchased a copy of Faces 3.0 (by Interquest), a program mainly used by law enforcement. Unfortunately, they no longer sell the program to the general public. I suspect, of course, you could probably snag a copy on Ebay or somewhere a little more shady. . .

Every once in a while I break it out and noodle with it. I admit, I'm not so good at it. Believe it or not, even with 100 sets of eyes, and the ability to size them and move them apart, closer, up, or down, it's hard to get it right. The program has around 4,000 unique facial features. I can look at my drawing of Hitler and see dozens of things wrong. The eyes aren't right, the eyebrows are as close as I could get, I couldn't get his head square enough, and the moustache is too neat. I could go in and Photoshop [tm] the drawing and fix a lot of this. Aging is difficult as well--it never seems like the folds and wrinkles and blemishes work the way I want. But it's a fun problem to have.

They include a fun game with the software where they flash a suspect's face for a couple of seconds and then you work to recreate the face in Faces 3.0. I'll do a few more over the next while...and put them on All This Is That...
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Monkeying Around With Fido

A Youtube link to a simian prankster. You have to admit, our cousin seems to be doing this for the prank value alone. Curious George lives! Watch the video here.
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Sunday, August 13, 2006

A few of the lies I heard and told this week

We found the bad bugs.
I'll send the money tomorrow.
I'm fine.
I won't do that again.
I'm from Verizon and I'm calling to help you. . .
I'll do it tomorrow.
True story; a friend of my friend was there.
Now we're even.
The software will ship on time.
You look great.
We're calling because we know you are as angry as we are about. . .
For your convenience. . .
In order to serve you better. . .
New and Improved!
You're right Jack.
Trust me.
I'll never get that drunk again.
That was special.
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Saturday, August 12, 2006

Airline passenger restrictions, hip replacements, and why the Executive Branch goes unmolested, while I am scanned, probed, poked and patted down



Cory Doctorow wrote the following in a post on BoingBoing today:



"It seems to me like our glorious leaders are pretty good at setting out the "minor inconveniences" that the rest of us have to put up with, but when was the last time you heard of any of them enduring the same measures?

Now, GW Bush may say, "But I'm no terrorist! Why shouldn't I be able to bring my hip-flask onto Air Force One with me?" But I'm no terrorist either. I don't see why the man should be exempt from his own rules. If it's sauce for the goose, it's sauce for the butcher. "




Since I have had arthoplasty surgery and own an artificial hip, I get to experience a close-up and personal shakedown every single time I ride an airplane (and twice, or more, if it is not a non-stop flight). Anyone who knows me could tell you I am the least likely candidate in the world to take down an airplane, due to a nearly maniacal fear of flying. And I do have to resent--just a little--the fact that people I consider deranged like The Vice-President, and Secretary of Defense, get to walk right onto their 'planes entirely unmolested.

I will admit that everyone who has examined me has been both professional and friendly, and even appreciative that I am sanguine about the whole operation. It's hard to get mad at them. . .they're earning $16 an hour the hard way. I have never met one of these guys who wasn't extremely nice. I watch other people become angry over the invasion, but it's really not worth the oxygen. As usual, the big problems lie further up the food chain. I don't mind the searches, but as this week's events in England show, this may not be making us as safe as we once thought.

And now, we take it to the next level. No more liquids or iPods or computers or phones in the passenger cabin.
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Thursday, August 10, 2006

Senator Hillary Clinton's Breasts Unveiled


Click The Senator's breast(s) to enlarge the photograph

The sculptor, Daniel Edwards — who recently brought us a life-size statue of Britney Spears giving birth on a bearskin rug with the young 'uns head crowning in the posterior view (see photo below) — has created a buxom sculpture of Sen. Hillary Clinton's head, and bust. The armless (ala Venus DeMilo) but big-bosomed Senator rests on a plinth that reads: “Presidential Bust of Hillary Clinton.” There is a strange documentary short on YouTube of Daniels, and his new scuplture. He seems like a genuinely kooky, and nice, guy.

The sculpture will be rolled out next week at the NYC Museum of Sex, according to the New York Daily News.


The Britney Spears Sculpture (side view)
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Son of Sam was arrested 29 years ago today -- "What took you so long?"


Click David Berkowitz to enlarge

On August 10, 1977, an utterly deranged 24-year-old postal employee (note: he was also one of the first postal employees to go "postal"), David Berkowitz was arrested and charged with being the "44 caliber killer" a/k/a "Son of Sam." Son of Sam was a serial killer who terrorized New York City for more than a year, killing six young people and wounding seven others with a .44-caliber revolver, all allegedly on the orders of a barking dog next door that Berkowitz claimed was channeling a neighbor named Sam. Berkowitz targeted attractive young women with long brown hair, and therefore, "hundreds of young women had their hair cut short and dyed blond during the time he terrorized the city. " At least according to one article I read. I don't remember anyone doing this, but I remember people on the news talking about it.


The police sketch and a photograph

The Son of Sam name came from his first letter, left in one of the victim's cars. It was addressed to police captain Joe Borelli, who headed up Task Force Omega, a group of a large number of detectives searching for the "44 caliber killer." The letter said:

"I am deeply hurt by your calling me a weman-hater. I am not. But I am a monster. I am the "son of Sam". I am a little brat. When father Sam gets drunk he gets mean. He beats our family. Sometimes he ties me up to the back of the house. Other times he locks me in the garage. Sam loves to drink blood. "Go out and kills" commands father Sam. Behind our house some rest. Mostly young - raped and slaughtered - their blood drained - just bones now. Pap Sam keeps me locked in the attic too. I can't get out but I look out the attick window and watch the world go by. I feel like an outsider. I am on a different wavelength then everybody else - programmed to kill. However, to stop me you must kill me. Attention all police: shoot me first - shoot to kill or else keep out of my way or you will die. Papa Sam is old now. He needs some blood to preserve his youth. He has too many heart attacks. "Ugh, me hoot, it hurts, sonny boy." I miss my pretty princess most of all. She's resting in our ladies house. But i'll see her soon. I am the "monster" - "Beelzebub" - the chubby behemouth. I love to hunt. Prowlling the streets looking for fair game - tasty meat. The wemon of Queens are prettyist of all. I must be the water they drink. I live for the hunt - my life. Blood for papa. Mr. Borelli, sir, I don't want to kill any more. No sur, no more but I must, "honour thy father". I want to make love to the world. I love people. I don't belong on earth. Return me to yahoos. To the people of Queens, I love you. And i want to wish all of you a happy Easter. May God bless you in this life and in the next. And for now I say goodbye and goodnight. Police: Let me haunt you with these words: I'll be back. I'll be back. To be interrpreted as - bang, bang, bang, bang - ugh. Yours in murder, Mr. Monster. "

I remember the New York Post and Daily News almost taunting him with their headlines as the anniversary of the first killings approached (the anniversary was June 29, 1977). I arrived in town in early June. He struck on June 26, but Sal Lupo and Judy Placido both survived, relatively unscathed. On July 30, he killed Stacy Moskowitz, and blinded Robert Violante.

He wrote a letter to Jimmy Breslin, the great NYC columnist (and author of the delightful novel The Gang That Couldn't Shoot Straight):

"Hello from the gutters of N.Y.C. which are filled with dog manure, vomit, stale wine, urine and blood. Hello from the sewers of N.Y.C. which swallow up these delicacies when they are washed away by the sweeper trucks. Hello from the cracks in the sidewalks of N.Y.C. and from the ants that dwell in these cracks and feed in the dried blood of the dead that has settled into the cracks..."

The writer noted that he was a fan of Breslin: "J.B., I also want to tell you that I read your column daily and find it quite informative."

The writer added, "What will you have for July 29?" (the anniversary of the first .44 Caliber shooting).

I had been in the city for a few months when he was arrested, a month after the famous blackout and riots. I happened to also be in love with an attractive young woman with long brown hair. We never "necked" in parked cars, so we were relatively safe. However, we did live and hang out in Brooklyn, one of his targets. And when he was caught, he was taken to the Brooklyn House of Detention--right across the street from our apartment!

Court TV's Crime Library has a long article about Berkowitz/Sam, and, the Wikipedia has a good article as well. . .
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painting: Variations on Jack Brummet's head


click to enlarge
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Wednesday, August 09, 2006

"Crazy" Joe Lieberman takes a licking and keeps on ticking


click poster to enlarge


Crazy Joe Lieberman, standing on a stack of telephone books behind the podium, tonight conceded the election to Ned Lamont and confirmed he would be running for the Senate as a third party candidate.

I remember when third party candidates were wackos and hopeless nutjobs like Gus Hall and George Wallace, or egocentric, deranged spoilers like Ralph Nader. Same as it ever was. . .same as it ever was. . .same as it ever was. . .
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Some nice Engrish photographs




Click here to see this photo set. And if you want more, there is always the engrish.com web site.



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Tuesday, August 08, 2006

President Richard M. Nixon decommissioned, resigns in disgrace


Click the collage to enlarge

Dick Nixon was a fascinating, brilliant, and revolting man. He did change the world. He resigned 32 years ago today. Even with the specter of Jerry Ford as President (since Agnew had recently resigned following a felony nolo contendre pleading), we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Nixon, Haldeman, Erlichman, Dean, Magruder, Mitchell, Colson, Liddy, Ziegler, Hunt. . .the entire band of sneaky little weasels thrown out! It was a good day.

President Nixon was actually the last of the liberal Republican presidents--social spending was at an all-time high under The Nixon Administration. The country, however, seemed to visibly crumble under all the cheapjack domestic spying, break-ins, misinformation campaigns, Kent State, prosecution of the Chicago 7, massive anti-war demonstrations, the bombing of Cambodia, hardhats and Hell's Angels attacking peace marchers. . .and all the other outrages committed and encouraged by Nixon's henchmen, a band of misanthropic thugs. President Nixon's long smoldering resentments, doubts about his own self-worth, and his paranoia about The Kennedys and their successors would eventually sink his presidency.



The war against North Vietnam raged on with increased troop levels, saturation bombing, napalm napalm napalm, and massive body counts. The body count became a feature of every nightly news broadcast. On the plus side of the ledger, President Nixon reached out to both Russia and China, and set the stage for the later upheavals in Russia, up to and including the fall of communism. He opened China up to diplomacy and trade and sat with Mao Zedong. He changed the modern world.

After resigning in disgrace, Nixon hid out in California a couple of years, and then moved to NYC. He went on to write numerous books on foreign policy, and unofficially (with no public fanfare) advise every President until the day he died. If you want a fascinating read on Richard Nixon, check out Chris Matthew's book Kennedy And Nixon. I've read many books about Richard Nixon, and I probably enjoyed this one the most.

Links on all this is that:

All This Is That: Stopping By Richard Nixon's
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All This Is That Reheated:::::Stopping By Richard Nixon's

click painting to enlarge

From all this is that, Wednesday, December 08, 2004


One of my favorite activities in New York City was to visit Former President Richard M. Nixon's house. He lived in a sweet little townhouse on the Upper East Side (142 East 65th Street). We probably stopped by ten times while I lived there. I would drag friends there in a taxi, or car, if someone had one. The President never actually came out to greet us.

A few years after he resigned, he returned east from his California exile. This is the President who wanted to send me to Vietnam, so I had mixed feelings, indeed, about this man. He kept the Great Society funded, even as he lied and weaseled his way to disgrace. What could you think of the ex red-baiter who went to China and opened diplomatic relations? He was a two-edged sword, which made him endlessly fascinating. And I frequently went there to pay homage to both Good King Richard and Evil Dick.

These visits would almost always occur around closing time (did I even need to mention that?). I seem to recall often having a bottle or go cup in hand, as we stood outside the townhouse for ten or fifteen minutes. I always secretly hoped he might spy us and come out (like the time he visited the students at the Lincoln Memorial). I'd like to think he maybe heard us once or twice!

Interestingly, in all of those visits, the Secret Service never came near us. We saw them a few times, but no matter how loud and raucous we got, they never approached. I guess that makes sense. There were 20 million people living within an easy car drive of 142 East 65th Street. I was probably not the only knucklehead among the 20 million to stop by--or worse. Eventually, in the mid-eighties, Richard Nixon and I both moved from Manhattan. He moved to Saddle River, New Jersey and wrote a lot of books, as well as advising every President in some capacity. He died ten years ago, in New York. /jack
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