Arizona's Enactment of SB-1070: What are people REALLY afraid of?

What are people REALLY afraid of? That the illegals will can no longer be comfortable in arizona? is that such a bad thing? They're ILLEGAL! It's against the law. A police officer's job is to enforce the law!

Some folks have suggested that the new law could lead to racial profiling of brown-skinned people. As a brown-skinned immigrant myself, allow me to honestly express how I feel about the law. Yes, I am brown skinned, AND I am an immigrant. yet I do not fear laws like this because I am not illegal. I agree that racial profiling COULD be an issue, but it's really not something I am worried about. I've been pulled over a couple of times, but it was for speeding. I was driving too fast. Exceeding the speed limit is against the law. But I don't feel like I've ever been the subject of racial profiling. I drive carefully, and I obey the law. So, I have nothing to worry about.

So maybe I should consider carrying proof of my citizenship around. Big deal. I carry a driver's license. I'd rather not have to carry my USA passport around, so perhaps the INS should consider distributing a wallet-sized document in case I get pulled over.

This law might do little to solve the problem, but one thing's for sure: Illegal immigrants are going to have to behave themselves, or keep themselves out of sight. Bad enough to be illegal, worse when they misbehave. My only complaint about this law is that Arizona passed this law without offering to issue some kind of wallet-sized proof of citizenship for those immigrants who no longer need green cards. I'd rather not have to carry my passport around with me everywhere I go.

Bottom line: only illegals should be worried about the new Arizona law. They're the ones breaking the law, not me.

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What's your Gladwell score?

about four or five years ago. I dreamt I was doing a vanity search on people.google.com and I remember feeling rather ambivalent about the fact that my Gladwell score was moderately high, I think somewhere around 65… that is until I entered the name of a dim-witted acquaintance and found her Gladwell score to be around 97. I remember feeling like, "What? who the F is she?" Anyway, on a side note… if retailers started pricing things based upon what I'm going to coin your "Gladwell score," I imagine folks like Lady Gaga would be able to arbitrage their influence into cash by buying stuff cheap, then selling it to you and me for a tidy profit at a price less than what we'd be charged, given our lower Gladwell scores.

From the Archives: 11 years ago on SoulSnax

...in this dream, I was working with a couple of police detectives who were trying to analyze a sort of clear, reddish liquid that had a reddish tinge. It reminded me of the juice that collects in the bottom of the meat drawer of neglected refrigerators. I decided to lead the detectives to the mortuary section of the hospital. You know, the room where they store the dead bodies in drawers and autopsy tables...

When I opened the first drawer, I noticed that the stiff, pale, drained and deflated corpse was my own. I looked at the wound in the stomach, and commented, "Whoa, what happened there?"

One of the detectives answered, "Well, you did get shot in the stomach. You know, when you tried to get the gun from that guy."

"Really? Hmm..." I remarked plainly as I tried to recall the event. Then I noticed some of my clothes, which happened to be folded neatly next to my body. As I looked at my bloodied merino sweater soaking in a pool of that aforementioned clear liquid, I couldn't help but think of the dry cleaning bill that I was going to have to pay. I closed the drawer, and then opened another one.

Inside the drawer lay my corpse, again. So I closed it, and opened another drawer, only to see my corpse again. I turned to the detectives and chuckled, "Hmm, heh... I guess I'm dead, huh?"

"Eh, don't worry about it," replied the other detective, as if they were going to take care of the rest. At this point I started to feel upset because I couldn't help thinking of all the things I had to take care of for the upcoming week.

"Really... I don't have time for that now," I muttered, trying to figure out how I could reschedule this death thing...

UPDATE 2/27/98: I mentioned the above dream to my brother yesterday and he said that he also had a dream that I died. I don't know what to think anymore.

Seven Years Ago...

I remember what a beautiful day it would have been seven years ago...

Your clothes are pressed, every hair in place
You brushed your teeth and shaved your face
You sprayed cologne so you smell great.
It's a beautiful day to celebrate
The last day of your life.

Rest in Peace

Every time I travel to the Philippines...

You know what game I like to play while traveling on the plane? It's a game I call "Spot the Perverts" in which the goal is to figure out which guys are coming just to get some suckie-suckie! It' kinda like Bingo, and you win if you complete a row of pervs!

FOLD

Because "the past shakes hands with the future through the present."

The elderly you see today
Were children this morning.
They were born yesterday
And sang and danced and played
With their brothers and sisters and friends
Whose own parents were kids
Just a few hours before that.

We'll bury our parents this afternoon.
And our children will be born tonight,
So they can bury us in the morning.
And their children
Will grow up
And catch up
With the rest of the elderly.