I saw in the news today that Democrats in Congress are blocking funding the troops aga--oh, wait... it's... it's the Republicans?! But that doesn't make any sense! Aren't the Republicans the ones who support the troops?

Well, at least we know the Republicans will be firmly on the side of the veterans of their wars in Iraq and Afghanist--wait, what? Bush is threatening to veto an increase in funding for the GI Bill so that Iraq and Afghanistan vets can pay for college?!

Well, he'll be out of office soon, and I'm sure that the Republican candidate for President, John McCain, has a much different view of things, having served in the military himself and--Huh? He proposed a much stingier bill that offered only a token GI Bill increase, and then forced a vote on it instead of participating in good-faith negotiations on a compromise?

How strange all this is! It's almost as if the Republicans were using all that "support the troops" talk just to win elections, and they don't really support the troops at all!

I spent the afternoon getting pleasantly lost on the Duke campus, trying to find two buildings that are right next to each other and very large.

The result, finally, was a copy of Windows XP (Has anyone else noticed the emoticonical appropriateness of that name?) to install on my otherwise pristine MacBook, and my very own DukeCard, which, as far as I can tell, serves as everything from a key to a credit card to quasi-legal ID in the city of Durham.

After a few weeks of recurring "I'm in some law class and it's finals time and I'll be damned if I've ever even seen this professor before, much less actually listened to a lecture" anxiety dreams, my brain has apparently decided to give me a break... by providing a recurring anxiety dream about moving. In it, it's ten A.M. of the day I'm planning to move, the movers are gone, and I've just looked around my apartment and noticed six or eight more loaded bookshelves that I'd somehow missed and forgotten to pack.

In more pleasant news, I've met and started dating a pretty awesome young lady.

There was this black ball caught in what looked like an old cobweb by my front door. Last night, as a certain young lady and I were leaving my apartment, I noticed that it seemed to have legs.

This certain young lady indicated that she thought I should get some Raid. I agreed. After a couple of liberal dousings, I'm relatively sure I've killed it--it's just hanging there now, not moving.

( This week, on 'Things I Don't Want Living Next To My Front Door Theatre'... )

( This is why Hillary should quit now. )

The image shows that she can win every race from here out (which she won't) with a 60-40 margin (her best showing so far is 54%), including the unpledged superdelegates, and still have an 8-delegate deficit going into the convention, with Obama a mere 7 delegates short of an all-out majority.

For those of you who like Nine Inch Nails and/or free music:

Nine Inch Nails is releasing their latest studio album, The Slip, for free as MP3s or lossless audio in your format of choice. This is the band's second foray into the free-online distribution method after Ghosts I-IV earlier this year. Trent Reznor, NIN's driving force, also produced rapper Saul Williams's excellent Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust, which was released as a free download last year.

Apparently a CD version of the album will be available in a month or two.

I'm listening to it right now and it's good stuff--a little more electronic and less heavy than Year Zero.

Clinton dismisses "elite" economists on gas-tax proposal.

Later, Clinton added that she also doesn't want to throw her lot in with "elite" carmakers who believe that cars need "fuel" to "run." "When I'm President, cars will run on wishes and love," Clinton added. "And we will repeal the Federal wishes-and-love tax, too, which will save Americans another $1.30 a year on top of the $20 they're already saving with my fuel-tax cut."

Well, after two and a smidge days on the road, I'm in Durham. Highlights of the trip:

• Ajax and Pandora were almost supernaturally awesome. There was occasional meowing late at night, but beyond that, they napped and looked out the window and were generally the most pleasant of traveling companions.
  
• My opinion of Illinois has not changed. Also, Indiana smelled largely like cow manure.
  
• After trying to resolve what turned out to be a relatively minor issue with my bank yesterday for two hours over the phone, I will be VERY pleased to give WaMu the boot and get back to banking with Wachovia.
  
• My apartment is entirely acceptable, especially since it's half as much as my apartment in Denver, and feels about twice as large. The walk to the law school is entirely doable.
  

The movers are here.

Further bulletins as events warrant.

Annoyance number one: I am a firm believer in original packaging for shipping electronic equipment. I've got my iMac box, my printer box, my Wii box, my Xbox 360 box, and the box for my TV, so packing them up has been pretty painless.

I also kept the box that Rock Band came in. The good news there is that the drums, drum stand, mic, and all the attendant cables fit into the inner drum box.

The bad news is that once you've attached the head to the guitar, you can't take it off, nor can you fit it back into its box with the head on.

Annoyance number two: I've arranged my apartment by email. I've asked in the last three emails for the actual address of the apartment I'm moving into. The leasing agent has given me every piece of information EXCEPT the address, which is really the only piece of information I need (so I can order cable, get electricity, and get the renters insurance policy that the complex requires before I move in). And, bonus, none of her email signatures contain a contact phone number.

Weird.

I mean, I guess it's not really that weird, since my time here has to some extent been governed by the length of my lease. But two years ago today I was arriving from a cross-country trip, and tomorrow I'm leaving on a cross-country trip.

Stuff's packed... my apartment is full of boxes. It's very strange to think that I'll pull out of my parking space in about 30 hours, I'll pass under the often-busted garage door, and I won't be coming back in a few hours or a few days. Or ever, most likely.

I've really liked it here. I've met some really cool people, visited some incredible places, and discovered one of America's great small cities. But I'm also excited about starting this next chapter of my life.

Well, I sold the motorcycle. The guy who bought it came down with his wife and mother-in-law. They're all dirtbikers, but they're looking for reliable transportation to work.

I got back all but $100 of my purchase price, so I'm happy with that, but boy did it suck to see somebody else get on my bike and ride it off.

It is miserable here today--40 degrees with a nasty wind blowing from the north.

I note that it is 81 in Durham.

Please remind me of this post over the summer when it's 94 and 94% humidity there and 80 and dry here.

So, in the continuing fallout from boobiegate, I responded to a point in drownedinink's post. On further reflection, my point was based on an unexamined assumption on my part. So I'd like to examine it.

I'm not limiting this to my sex-filter, because I'm not, but if you don't think you'd like to participate or read the results of a poll discussing body parts, don't click on the cut, okay?

( Poll containing discussion of body parts behind this cut. Be warned! )

Two things:

1) I see "One word to describe your mom," and all I can think is that that sounds like it's gonna be a particularly dirty joke.

2) The little tee-shirt icon. Yes, you can now buy your very own "I saw it on CNN.com" t-shirts with actual, selected CNN.com headlines. Dear CNN: You are now officially The Onion.

Somehow, I missed the whole "Open Source Boob Project" post yesterday, but it'd be tough to miss the hordes of LJers jumping on theferrett for posting about it.

That's right. Not for creating it, but for posting about it--because, as an even moderately careful reader will notice, he didn't create it.

There have been a lot of shouts of "Peer pressure!" "Othering!" "Gendering!" There has been rending of garments, tearing of hair, and weeping fiancees. To which I say: What the fuck? A small group of consenting adults chose to participate in something that didn't hurt any of them and that, to the contrary, judging by the comments of those who actually participated, they enjoyed.

It's not your cup of tea? DON'T FUCKING DO IT. But the fact that it isn't your cup of tea doesn't make the people who enjoy that particular brand of Oolong bad people.

I haven't been out on the bike since, oh, November, I think. Maybe October.

I pulled the battery a couple of months ago, and managed to tear one of the contacts off, which necessitated a new battery. I found all kinds of excuses for not filling/charging the new battery (apparently, they only make lead/acid batteries for Yamaha bikes of that vintage), but when I decided to list the bike for sale, I figured I'd better make sure it was running first.

I think part of me thought that if I knew it was running, I wouldn't want to sell it. So I waited until I had an offer before putting in the battery, washing the bike, and starting it up. And then, of course, I had to take it for a ride.

I don't want to sell it. But it makes the most sense financially--I should be able to get out pretty much everything I put into it, and I can always buy another one at the other end of the move or at the other end of law school.

But man, it was nice to be out riding tonight.

Salon has been publishing a series of pro-Clinton pieces, claiming, basically, that to be an Obama supporter, you must be a sexist and hate Hillary because she's a woman.

Here's the thing, folks: I don't like Hillary Clinton because she's Hillary Clinton.

First, I think she's smug and dishonest. Now, that's not all that odd for a politician; all politicians are smug and dishonest to one extent or another. However, I think Hillary's more so than most. And the dishonesty is often about things (hello, Bosnia!) that are easy to check in the media record, or easy to disprove (35 years of public-service experience?!) with very little digging. Reasonable people can disagree over whether working-class Americans are bitter; reasonable people don't disagree that Hillary has never been shot at by snipers. Now, there are many men who are more smug and dishonest than Hillary Clinton. There are, likewise, many women who are far, far less smug and dishonest than Clinton. Calling Clinton, specifically, smug and dishonest does not a sexist make. But neither does Clinton's femaleness make her any less smug or dishonest.

Further, I think Clinton is divisive. I think she is divisive because she is Hillary Clinton. When Georgia Republicans were after Zell "Democrat Keynote Speaker At The Republican Convention" Miller during his Senate campaign, their ads featured Zell talking about how much he loves Hillary Clinton. A hardcore Republican party-liner would vote against a tax-cut bill if the Clinton name were attached as a co-sponsor. And this is the real problem with the Clinton campaign and the idea of a putative Clinton Presidency: while her policy plans don't differ in many major ways from Obama's, there is much less chance Clinton would ever be able to convince a closely divided Congress to back her policies. Again, this is not a sexist observation: the same problem would attach if Bill Clinton were somehow to arrange to return for a third term. The Clinton name simply causes fits of irrational apoplexy in conservatives.

I don't like Clinton because--barring a miracle--she can't win the primary, and she continues to pretend that she can. It's Naderesque dishonesty and self-delusion, and, as somebody who fell for Nader's line in 2000, I'm doing my best to convince my fellow Democrats and assorted other Democrat-voting liberals not to make the same mistake I did. I feel the same way about Nader this year as I do about Clinton: you're wasting your supporters' time and money. And, unless Nader has recently undergone a sex change, I don't think that's sexist, either.

And, yes, I don't like Clinton, because for the first time since I've been able to vote, I can happily say that there's a candidate I can vote for. In 1996, I held my nose and voted for Clinton despite the messes of his first term. In 2000 and 2004, I voted against George W., because (in 2000) he was the idiot son of a loser President, and (in 2004) he was on his way to becoming the worst disaster to befall our country in nearly a century and a half. In 2008, we have the chance to elect somebody who has the potential to be truly transformative to the Presidency, and instead we're wasting time and money on a primary campaign that makes John "Did I mention I'm FUCKING 72 GODDAMN YEARS OLD" McCain look better with every passing day. Yes, Barack Obama has flaws. Lots of them. That doesn't change the fact that he's inspired me to do more work for a political campaign this year alone than I've done before in my life.

Those, Salon, are the reasons I don't like Hillary Clinton. One of the bedrock principles of feminism is, as I understand it, the radical idea that women should be treated as individuals. (I know, crazy, right?) So, here I am, treating Hillary Clinton as an individual, and as one that I happen to dislike. My reasons don't spring from the fact that she has a vagina, but from the fact that she is Hillary Rodham Clinton, and she has made a number of choices in her life that I disagree with. I am judging her on her own personal, individual merits, and she is coming up woefully short. If you think that makes me a sexist, then you clearly don't understand the term.

Well, it's official. I'm unemployed.

So, in spite of the fact that, in all likelihood, I won't have a job this time tomorrow, I'm kind of inordinately happy right now. Why?

I have a Duke email address!

... No, no... it really doesn't take much. Why do you ask?

On the way to the crime scene, Detectives Bolton and Adams--both of them amateur historians--got into a heated debate.

"Personally, I'm against protectivist tariffs on foreign goods," Bolton said, "and I'm inclined to think that your ancestor, our sixth President, was much the same way."

"You couldn't be more wrong," Adams said. "And, what's more, your insistence that Presidents should replace appointees at the first sign of political disagreement wouldn't have sat well with him, either."

They continued much in this vein until they pulled up at the front of the apartment building, already taped off and crawling with crime-scene techs. Bolton and Adams looked over the position of the body and the basics of the crime scene. They then spent the next two hours questioning people who lived nearby. It was a frustrating afternoon: no two of the stories matched in even the smallest details about the number of shots, the time of the shooting, or even whether the victim was well-liked or despised by his neighbors.

At the end of the day, as the two detectives were driving back to the station, Bolton said, "I think every last one of them was lying."

"You've got that right," Adams said. "But to some extent, every John Q is a liar."

Later that evening, Bolton recounted his day to a sympathetic bartender over a glass of beer, starting with his political argument and ending with the frustrating afternoon.

"But surely you must've learned something today," the bartender said, polishing a pint glass.

"Well, I guess what it comes down to is this," Bolton told the bartender. "You should never believe John Q. Adams agrees with me."

With apologies for the cross-post.