St. Louis Blues

About a year ago, a 13-year-old St. Louis girl named Megan Meier fell victim to a cruel online bullying hoax, believing that a cute boy named Josh, new to town, was interested in meeting her. “Josh” soon lost interest, telling her that he had heard that she was a bad person who treated her friends poorly and that the world would be a better place without her. Meier, who suffered from depression, hung herself shortly after reading this.
Before getting to the reveal, and without placing any blame on Meier’s parents, I would like to point out that it is never a good idea to let your children cruise through MySpace and that it becomes increasingly apparent, in a “To Catch a Predator” society, that your child’s Internet time should be strictly monitored.
Anyway, this tragedy’s twist is that “Josh” wasn’t a creation of schoolyard bullies, but rather the mother of a girl who was no longer Megan’s friend. The Meier parents want Anti-Cyberbullying laws set in place to protect children like her daughter, but that seems unlikely and tough to legislate. The offending mother, who merely wanted to make Megan feel as bad as a 13-year-old girl possibly could (which is surely very bad, indeed) but did not expect her to snap like that, didn’t really commit any crime here. She was only mean and will probably get away with her cruelty.
Except that, as I’ve explored before, everything comes out in the World Wide Wash, and blogger vigilantes are making sure that the Drew family, who were unnamed by the traditional media to protect their own daughter, pay a price. Names, photos and pictures of the family have been passed around, they are being harassed in their own neighborhood and (poetically) through their computer. Clients of their family-owned printing company are also being harassed. This mistake is going to hit this family in more ways than any legislation could have. This, I think, is reasonable.
As this series of tubes known as the Internet increases its dominance over our society, we are inventing our own set of social values, where the public shaming of jerks and assholes is valid retribution. As I’ve written before, you should never do anything online that you wouldn’t want your mother to see. She will find out about it, you sick jerk.

Parents Just Don't Understand

or, Only Stupid People Are Breeding

If I decide to come eat at a restaurant where you are enjoying a meal, and start to scream for 20 minutes, it is reasonable to expect a manager to intervene. Which is what happened at an O’Charley’s in Kentucky, except I wasn’t the one screaming. It was a little baby.
And, in this story, I completely take the side of restaurant, and I can’t imagine who wouldn’t. If your kid is crying and you can’t make it stop, bring the child outside. That’s the price you pay for not paying the price for the babysitter. If you don’t do this, and a manager comes to ask you to, be polite and apologetic, for it is you who are disturbing the peace in this situation. The expectation of a nice, quiet time in a restaurant is approximately equal to the expectation (now) of a smoke-free environment or the expectation of no machine parts in my fajita at a Montana’s 2 years ago. A hands-off approach to parenting is a fairly terrible idea, and even I, a dumb, childless man, know that a crying baby is trying to tell you something. Parents who get fed up after two minutes of trying to shut their baby up and go back to enjoying their food while they let their kid exhaust itself are thoughtless and awful. And, the ones that let their kids run around a busy restaurant where waiters are running around with plates and trays are negligent, too.
End rant.
Also, this story seems like a fun time to bring up a poll I saw on gawker.com asking which you would rather get: herpes or pregnant?

Hero: The Bachelor

Last night, I serendipitously tuned into ABC, just in time to catch the final moments of The Bachelor. As someone who feels he has a fairly realistic understanding of the nature of love and marriage, I have a huge problem with this program, and others of its ilk. How in the world, it seems reasonable to ask, can a man be arrogant enough to believe that he can find true love within a pre-selected assortment of TV-ready pretty young things? Who are these women, willing to submit themselves to a contest that only one can win, and able to fall in madly in love with a man they know nothing more about than the fact that he’s a, sorry, the bachelor? And who ever wanted to make love a contest? (And why does this paragraph sound like Sex and the City narration?)
Needless to say, I’m not a fan of The Bachelor. But I was flipping and it was on and I seemed to recall something about the most shocking finale ever and here he was, on my screen, The Bachelor himself, on a platform, holding the hands of a finalist, about to break her heart or make her season-long dreams come true. I watched him break her heart, after which I think he asked her if she was mad at him (!), and then on to the next finalist. Logic, or contest rules, would dictate that this was his choice, the one he loved and would marry on some well-lit TV special. And then, the greatest thing happened. He chose none of the above.
So maybe this Bachelor isn’t so dumb. Maybe he realized that he didn’t want the kind of woman who would submit herself to this bizarre spectacle. Maybe he knew that, out here in real reality, a woman existed who could make him feel more than any of these wannabes. Maybe he’s just a consummate bachelor. Either way, he did what to me seems the reasonable thing to do, where most TV bachelors would pick a winner, ignore the point and deal with the reality when he gets there. So for this small gesture towards the meaning of love, he gets my hero tag.
I’d like to add how funny it was when, one second after the program ended, the promo for tonight’s reunion show began with, “It was the finale that shocked America!” One second later.

Hero: Wade Redden

There’s something great about the Senators of Ottawa City (official team of IWBYB.) Marquee players Jason Spezza and Dany Heatley recently renewed long term contracts, millions of dollars below what they would make on the free agent market. Why? Because they want to confirm their commitment to the organization and continue playing quality hockey on a team with a future. They love Ottawa and Ottawa loves them.
Ottawa City defenceman Wade Redden, however, did them one better today when he did the unheard of, not just in the NHL, but in any industry, anywhere. He offered to work for LESS. Contracts and salary caps being what they are, it seemed likely that the Sens would not work out a new deal with an overpaid, inconsistent, but frequently terrific defenceman. With many other teams (Toronto, Atlanta, Boston, LA) struggling on the blueline, he could have waited it out and received a raise and a clean slate elsewhere. I mean, who asks for less money? Certainly not that jerk Ryan Smyth, who cries everytime he comes back to Edmonton but wouldn't consider staying.
The Players’ Union may take issue with this, but I think it’s admirable and shows a lot of heart. Ottawa fans (including this writer) haven’t always been kind to him. This offer shows such strong commitment, that you just know that, given the chance, he will be better. I hope he’s given the chance.
And, to make things more clear, this was announced on the same day that Eric Lindros announced that he would announce his retirement Thursday. Lindros, the league leader in concussions over the last decade, should serve as a cautionary tale to players who want to argue that there is a ‘me’ in team. But there’s not – only the makings of one. He refused to play for the team that drafted him (Quebec) due to limited endorsement opportunities, providing them enough star power in a trade that they won the cup (as the Colorado Avalanche), while he became one of the most maligned players of the 90’s.
Here’s to you, Wade.

Slick

I don’t have much to say that isn’t said much better here. But, I would like to use this forum to point out that 18 years after a disastrous oil spill that ruined an ecosystem, destroyed a town and resulted, directly and indirectly, in lots of death, Exxon hasn’t paid its $5 billion punitive award and may get out of paying it altogether. That is all.
That, and is corporate responsibility just some weird oxymoron that I invented or does it have a meaning?

Two Princes

A couple of news stories have got my goat. One is about a dog, the other, a different animal.

So, Dog the Bounty Hunter is a flaming racist. He’s pretty much fired from A&E due to some damaging remarks that have surfaced from a phone conversation with his son. I’ve recently gone over how important it is to protect your ass when you feel like saying stupid things, but I think a certain measure of privacy can be expected when you’re talking to your family on the phone. But I don’t feel sorry for him and I’d like to break it down. In the conversation, which you can hear here, he tells his son how damaging it would be if the media was made aware of how much they used the n-word (prescient) even though he seems to try to make it clear that its not in the racist sense (ok, fine.) It’s kind of hard to make out his point, with all the n-bombs being tossed around, but apparently, fear of being branded a racist is the reason he doesn’t want his son to continue dating a black girl he’s been seeing. Which is where context becomes more racist than vocabulary. But don't worry, Dog. Don Imus just got his job back, so just hold on, be strong. (For the extreme irony trifecta, it should be noted that he is brought down by his son – a tactic he might have learned after years of helping his dad convince family member to turn each other in.)
In sports news, wishy-washy, frequently separatist lawyer Guy Bertrand made hockey hero Saku Koivu the center of attention this week, accusing him of being unfit to captain the Montreal Canadiens. Bertrand was offended that Koivu spoke English only during a pre-taped pre-game ceremony, and said, although something may have been lost in translation, that he has the right to be served in his language. But Bertrand, the stupid idiot, comes across unaware that Koivu, captain of the Montreal Canadiens, isn’t even actually a Canadian. He came here from Finland and picked up a second language (English) to communicate with his teammates. Or that Koivu, naturally, speaks some French, but might be uncomfortable speaking it in front of a stadium full of people. (Although he heroically did just that at the next game.) He might also be unaware that less than half of the Habs’ roster is Canadian, and that less than half of those are from Quebec. Or that, quite likely, more than half of the fans at the game counted English as a first language. Who does he want as captain of this team, Brisebois? Is he so deluded that he’s already forgotten how many Quebec players dismissed his idea of a Quebec national team at the 2008 World Ice Hockey Championships? Does he know that many talented players, including Quebecers like Daniel Briere, choose not to play in Montreal due to the often ridiculous media scrutiny, and that this can’t help? Wasn’t he around last year when they ALREADY GAVE KOIVU A HARD TIME ABOUT IT? Leave Saku alone!! He’s good for you.

Hero: Trail of Dead

And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead are the latest band to ditch their label and go it alone, which is not heroic, per se. Radiohead, Madonna and Nine Inch Nails have already done it bigger. But Trail of Dead gets an IWBYB hero tag for pointing out the other thing that’s wrong with record labels.
My primary problem with labels is the stubborn pricing. I vow to buy CDs until the day I die (or, more likely, the format does.) But the industry sure doesn’t make it easy. I have to ask myself why I pay for something I can get for free, just to have another jewel case to throw on the pile. If they want to encourage people to pay for music, they should try, you know, encouraging people to pay for music!
But the other thing that is wrong with the labels is their shoddy treatment of musicians, elegantly laid out here. In order to remain a middleman, you should make it a priority to take care of at least one of the sides. In his hilarious diatribe against superdouche Jimmy Iovine ("he's had a great dating record, he just won't have the next TOD record"), head Dead Conrad Kelly describes their unsatisfying experience with being signed.
The best part: this was posted on their band site on the Interscope page! Ironic, maybe. Heroic, absolutely.