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Thursday, January 19, 2012

Missouri Editorial Board Criticizes Legislature

A Missouri resident who might wander into the state Capitol this week would get a pretty good sense of the priorities of the state Legislature, which enacts laws that affect our daily lives.
It's an important week: The first bills tapped by Republican leaders make their way to the floor. Other priorities get quick hearings, with bills put on the "fast track" to send a message that might steal a headline from Gov. Jay Nixon's annual state of the state speech, which he gave Tuesday.
Such a person, wanting to see progress made on jobs or education or roads or perhaps new rules to save dying children in unregulated day cares, would be disappointed. They might even be spitting mad.

That describes the feelings of Republican Sen. Jason Crowell of Cape Girardeau toward his colleagues as they tried to rush through a bill favored by the Missouri Chamber of Commerce that would make it harder for workers to be compensated fairly for workplace injuries.
The bill looked nothing like one senators passed the previous session after a full year of intense debate and behind-the-scenes negotiating. Instead, it mirrored what the chamber wanted, with little regard for workers who might get sick from certain occupational diseases and find themselves with nothing to show for it.
The bill, Mr. Crowell said, 'spits" at the tradition of the Senate.

Indeed, if what is going on at the state Capitol this week is any indication, the Missouri Legislature is all but abandoning any serious work in this election year.
In the House, leaders rushed a bill to the floor that would limit the ability of the state to raise revenue when the economy improves, rather than doing anything to counter the ongoing budget crisis. In the Senate, the first bill slated for serious debate would make it easier to discriminate against workers. Businesses violating the civil rights of their employees would avoid costly lawsuits.
In hearings this week, lawmakers heard bills that would reduce workers' wages and criminalize undocumented immigrants, importing unconstitutional bills from Arizona and Alabama to the Show-Me State. A hearing on a very important topic, the future of Interstate 70, highlighted the state's inability to embrace its responsibility to fund transportation, instead looking to tolls as the only solution worth discussing.

Meanwhile, Mr. Nixon, a Democrat, once again embraced Missouri's cost-cutting race to the bottom, proposing a budget that cuts higher education by 12 percent while repackaging the same tired, old business incentive handouts that have done little to rebuild the state's economy.
Yes, Mr. Nixon, Missourians are granite-strong, and we will rebound from natural disasters. But as the state continues to cement its status as one in which there is no hope that our educational system will ever be funded adequately, or even reach the middle of the nation's rankings, where is the countervailing message to the Republicans' attempts to destroy the social contract that says we care for our fellow man and that we should build a better future for the next generation than the one we have?

Such hope is hard to find while walking the stately marble floors of the Missouri Capitol this week. Neither the governor nor the Legislature is willing to commit to big ideas that might actually make Missouri a better place to live.
Be scared, Missourians. Be very, very scared.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

 Shame
by
Dick Gregory
[from his autobiography]
I never learned hate at home, or shame. I had to go to school for that. I was about seven years old when I got my first big lesson. I was in love with a little girl named Helene Tucker, a light-complexioned little girl with pigtails and nice manners. She was always clean and she was smart in school. I think I went to school then mostly to look at her. I brushed my hair and even got me a little old handkerchief. It was a lady's handkerchief, but I didn't want Helene to see me wipe my nose on my hand.
The pipes were frozen again, there was no water in the house, but I washed my socks and shirt every night. I'd get a pot, and go over to Mister Ben's grocery store, and stick my pot down into his soda machine and scoop out some chopped ice. By evening the ice melted to water for washing. I got sick a lot that winter because the fire would go out at night before the clothes were dry. In the morning I'd put them on, wet or dry, because they were the only clothes I had.
Everybody's got a Helene Tucker, a symbol of everything you want. I loved her for her goodness, her cleanness, her popularity. She'd walk down my street and my brothers and sisters would yell, "Here comes Helene," and I'd rub my tennis sneakers on the back of my pants and wish my hair wasn't so nappy and the white folks' shirt fit me better. I'd run out on the street. If I knew my place and didn't come too close, she'd wink at me and say hello. That was a good feeling. Sometimes I'd follow her all the way home, and shovel the snow off her walk and try to make friends with her momma and her aunts. I'd drop money on her stoop late at night on my way back from shining shoes in the taverns. And she had a daddy, and he had a good job. He was a paperhanger.
I guess I would have gotten over Helene by summertime, but something happened in that classroom that made her face hang in front of me for the next twenty-two years. When I played the drums in high school, it was for Helene, and when I broke track records in college, it was for Helene, and when I started standing behind microphones and heard applause, I wished Helene could hear it too. It wasn't until I was twenty-nine years old and married and making money that I finally got her out of my system. Helene was sitting in that classroom when I learned to be ashamed of myself.
It was on a Thursday. I was sitting in the back of the room, in a seat with a chalk circle drawn around it. The idiot's seat, the troublemaker's seat.
The teacher thought I was stupid. Couldn't spell, couldn't read, couldn't do arithmetic. Just stupid. Teachers were never interested in finding out that you couldn't concentrate because you were so hungry, because you hadn't had any breakfast. All you could think about was noontime; would it ever come? Maybe you could sneak into the cloakroom and steal a bite of some kid's lunch out of a coat pocket. A bite of something. Paste. You can't really make a meal of paste, or put it on bread for a sandwich, but sometimes I'd scoop a few spoonfuls out of the big paste jar in the back of the room. Pregnant people get strange tastes. I was pregnant with poverty. Pregnant with dirt and pregnant with smells that made people turn away. Pregnant with cold and pregnant with shoes that were never bought for me. Pregnant with five other people in my bed and no daddy in the next room, and pregnant with hunger. Paste doesn't taste too bad when you're hungry.
The teacher thought I was a troublemaker. All she saw from the front of the room was a little black boy who squirmed in his idiot's seat and made noises and poked the kids around him. I guess she couldn't see a kid who made noises because he wanted someone to know he was there.
It was on a Thursday, the day before the Negro payday. The eagle always flew on Friday. The teacher was asking each student how much his father would give to the Community Chest. On Friday night, each kid would get the money from his father, and on Monday he would bring it to the school. I decided I was going to buy a daddy right then. I had money in my pocket from shining shoes and selling papers, and whatever Helene Tucker pledged for her daddy I was going to top it. And I'd hand the money right in. I wasn't going to wait until Monday to buy me a daddy.
I was shaking, scared to death. The teacher opened her book and started calling out names alphabetically: "Helene Tucker?" "My Daddy said he'd give two dollars and fifty cents." "That's very nice, Helene. Very, very nice indeed."
That made me feel pretty good. It wouldn't take too much to top that. I had almost three dollars in dimes and quarters in my pocket. I stuck my hand in my pocket and held on to the money, waiting for her to call my name. But the teacher closed her book after she called everybody else in the class.
I stood up and raised my hand. "What is it now?" "You forgot me?" She turned toward the blackboard. "I don't have time to be playing with you, Richard."
"My daddy said he'd..." "Sit down, Richard, you're disturbing the class." "My daddy said he'd give...fifteen dollars."

She turned around and looked mad. "We are collecting this money for you and your kind, Richard Gregory. If your daddy can give fifteen dollars you have no business being on relief."
"I got it right now, I got it right now, my Daddy gave it to me to turn in today, my daddy said. .."
"And furthermore," she said, looking right at me, her nostrils getting big 2 and her lips getting thin and her eyes opening wide, "We know you don't have a daddy."

Helene Tucker turned around, her eyes full of tears. She felt sorry for me. Then I couldn't see her too well because I was crying, too.

"Sit down, Richard." And I always thought the teacher kind of liked me. She always picked me to wash the blackboard on Friday, after school. That was a big thrill; it made me feel important. If I didn't wash it, come Monday the school might not function right.
"Where are you going, Richard! "
I walked out of school that day, and for a long time I didn't go back very often.
There was shame there. Now there was shame everywhere. It seemed like the whole world had been inside that classroom, everyone had heard what the teacher had said, everyone had turned around and felt sorry for me. There was shame in going to the Worthy Boys Annual Christmas Dinner for you and your kind, because everybody knew what a worthy boy was. Why couldn't they just call it the Boys Annual Dinner-why'd they have to give it a name? There was shame in wearing the brown and orange and white plaid mackinaw' the welfare gave to three thousand boys. Why'd it have to be the same for everybody so when you walked down the street the people could see you were on relief? It was a nice warm mackinaw and it had a hood, and my momma beat me and called me a little rat when she found out I stuffed it in the bottom of a pail full of garbage way over on Cottage Street. There was shame in running over to Mister Ben's at the end of the day and asking for his rotten peaches, there was shame in asking Mrs. Simmons for a spoonful of sugar, there was shame in running out to meet the relief truck. I hated that truck, full of food for you and your kind. I ran into the house and hid when it came. And then I started to sneak through alleys, to take the long way home so the people going into White's Eat Shop wouldn't see me. Yeah, the whole world heard the teacher that day-we all know you don't have a Daddy.
It lasted for a while, this kind of numbness. I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself. And then one day I met this wino in a restaurant. I'd been out hustling all day, shining shoes, selling newspapers, and I had googobs of money in my pocket. Bought me a bowl of chili for fifteen cents, and a cheese- burger for fifteen cents, and a Pepsi for five cents, and a piece of chocolate cake for ten cents. That was a good meal. I was eating when this old wino came in. I love winos because they never hurt anyone but themselves.
The old wino sat down at the counter and ordered twenty-six cents worth of food. He ate it like he really enjoyed it. When the owner, Mister Williams, asked him to pay the check, the old wino didn't lie or go through his pocket like he suddenly found a hole.
He just said: "Don't have no money." The owner yelled: "Why in hell did you come in here and eat my food if you don't have no money? That food cost me money."
Mister Williams jumped over the counter and knocked the wino off his stool and beat him over the head with a pop bottle. Then he stepped back and watched the wino bleed. Then he kicked him. And he kicked him again.
I looked at the wino with blood all over his face and I went over.
"Leave him alone, Mister Williams. I'll pay the twenty-six cents."
The wino got up, slowly, pulling himself up to the stool, then up to the counter, holding on for a minute until his legs stopped shaking so bad. He looked at me with pure hate. "Keep your twenty-six cents. You don't have to pay, not now. I just finished paying for it."
He started to walk out, and as he passed me, he reached down and touched my shoulder. "Thanks, sonny, but it's too late now. Why didn't you pay it before?" I was pretty sick about that. I waited too long to help another man. []

Sunday, January 8, 2012

The New Politics of Silicon Valley


The new politics of Silicon Valley: Revenge of the nerds

(Courtesy CNET Poltics and Law )by

commentary It was a dangerous year for innovation. Governments around the world became increasingly aware that digital technology could disrupt the political and economic status quo.

Lawmakers and lobbyists were calling for new laws to curb innovations that challenged traditional law enforcement and old ways of doing business. But the laws would have stifled innovation far beyond their intended goals. Technology industry leaders sounded the alarm, but their voices went largely unheard in the corridors of power.
But one proposal gave birth to an organized resistance. Top government officials tried to force industry to re-engineer key technologies to dramatically expand government intervention and oversight, allowing federal law enforcement agents to manipulate core innovations central to fast-growing but still immature new products and services.
A small group of entrepreneurs, activists, writers and lawyers banded together to rally the technology community in opposition. A surprising coalition of Republican and Democratic lawmakers emerged to support the freedom fighters, many considered otherwise too liberal or too conservative to have common cause. Together, they fought back the proposal and, perhaps, saved a generation of future technological innovation.
The year was 1993, and the fight was over technology called the Clipper Chip, which the National Security Agency tried to force cell phone manufacturers to include in all consumer phones. Clipper was a government-designed chipset with built-in encryption developed by the NSA. One of its features, however, was a "key escrow" that gave the government a permanent backdoor to decrypt any conversation.
It was a terrible, terrible idea.
And the organization that formed to fight the Clipper Chip was the Electronic Frontier Foundation. In the end, its creation was the only affect the Clipper Chip actually had.
A not so distant mirror
The more things change, the more they stay the same. Today, EFF is once again part of a new band of freedom fighters opposing a similar threat to the Internet: the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) in the House and the Protect IP Act in the Senate. Leading technology companies, venture capitalists, entrepreneurs, start-up CEOs, and activists have all spoken out against the bills. Their opposition has rallied an impressive bipartisan group of innovation-friendly legislators to oppose the bills on all fronts. (See CNET's full SOPA coverage, "SOPA copyright bill draws fire.")
EFF has been joined by other free speech groups including the ACLU, the Center for Democracy and Technology, and Public Knowledge. Free market think tanks including the Heritage Foundation, the Competitive Enterprise Institute, and TechFreedom have also expressed grave concerns about the proposed new laws. (Author's disclosure: I am an adjunct fellow at TechFreedom.)
Last month, for example, the Heritage Foundation's James Gattuso warned that SOPA's provisions allowing court-ordered manipulation of search results would be "the first step down a classic slippery slope of government interference that has no clear stopping point." Gattuso noted, as have many others, that SOPA would undermine Internet security by encouraging offshore DNS servers to circumvent court-ordered blocks.
Growing opposition to SOPA forced House Judiciary Committee Chairman Lamar Smith (R-Texas) to make significant changes to the bill before a markup session last month. But that wasn't enough for Reps. Darrell Issa (R-Ca.), Zoe Lofgren (D-Ca.), Jared Polis (D-Colo.), Jason Chaffetz (R, Utah) and other committee members, who proposed more drastic surgery to the flawed bill during a marathon two-day session. Their amendments were voted down, but the effort kept the bill from moving out of committee for a planned floor vote.
Sen. Ron Wyden (D-Ore.) has placed a hold on Protect IP, which would require 60 votes to lift. Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (D-Nev.) has promised such a vote, perhaps as early as January 24).
Congressional opposition has been backstopped by an outpouring of grassroots anger. Most notably, Tumblr, Firefox and Reddit used features of their own software to generate opposition to the bills, including a coordinated American Censorship Day blackout. During the SOPA hearing, Tumblr generated nearly 100,000 constituent calls to Congress.
After a campaign organized largely on Reddit, Web site registrar GoDaddy was forced to retract its long-standing and very public support for the bill by domain name owners who promised to move their business elsewhere. Late in December, the company announced it was "no longer supporting" SOPA or Protect IP.
The law of unintended consequences
The battle is far from won. But just as the Clipper Chip catalyzed the creation of EFF and other advocacy groups, the audacity of SOPA and Protect IP has reawakened a long-sleeping giant in Silicon Valley. Even if it never passes, the unintended result of the proposed legislation has been the creation of a new and energized opposition within the technology community.
That's already a big shift. Technology entrepreneurs and their investors, for the most part, have tended to avoid Washington at all costs. "Entrepreneurs and VCs haven't engaged because they haven't needed to," says David R. Johnson. Now a visiting professor at New York Law School, Johnson was an early board member of EFF. He served as EFF's chairman during the crucial period when the organization, after some bruising battles on Capitol Hill, moved west to focus on litigation and advocacy. "They don't see Washington as the market maker the way older industries do. So up until now evading D.C. has been a good thing."
As the information economy has grown, however, lawmakers worldwide have become increasingly anxious about the perceived lawlessness of digital life. They've proposed a flurry of laws aimed at curbing criminal behavior and expanding electronic surveillance, or finding new ways to tax or otherwise regulate online interactions.
Most go nowhere. Some that pass, such as the 1996 Communications Decency Act, have failed in the courts. Many are poorly drafted, fueled by overblown concerns that are often mooted by technological change well before new laws can be implemented. All too often, entrenched industries struggling with technological change promote legislation aimed at crippling new competitors.
In every example, the risk of unintended consequences is severe. Information technology changes quickly, but laws do not. In the gaps that emerge, laws often achieve the opposite effect to what was intended.
Silicon Valley wakes up...for now?
So despite the good work of advocates including EFF, innocent entrepreneurs and investors increasingly find it difficult to bring new products and services to consumers because of new rules and regulations. Ever-earlier in the life cycle of a startup, company executives have to call in the lawyers. As Michael Mandel of the Progressive Policy Institute says (PDF), "the accumulation of regulations has the potential to hamper innovative and growing sectors, in the same way that a big enough pile of small stones can dam up a stream."
But SOPA and Protect IP are big enough rocks that Silicon Valley now seems poised to try to move them, if not simply blow them up.
For example, one new group, Engine Advocacy, has been galvanized by opposition to the two bills. At their first organizational meeting (really a party) last month, over 300 entrepreneurs and investors showed up. Co-founders Josh Mendelsohn and Mike McGeary are long-time entrepreneurs who currently work with Hattery Labs in San Francisco. Both have significant political experience.
Mendelsohn believes the time has come for small to medium-sized technology companies to get involved in shaping technology policy. "Up until now, it's been the hacker mentality," he said. "There's a general sense in the tech community that I'll ignore government because it's irrelevant to me. But that's changing. Technology and the innovation infrastructure are decreasing the cost of creating businesses that scale quickly. So the D.C. issues come in sooner."
Even before SOPA, the two had long wondered "why there wasn't a voice in government for startups." They describe the group as a loose coalition of entrepreneurs, investors, and startup executives, whose goal is to educate Silicon Valley on the key regulatory issues that affect them, and then send their members to Washington to educate Congress.
Teaming up with Mike Masnick of Floor 64 and Techdirt (and a leading SOPA opponent), Engine Advocacy has already taken two groups of startup CEOs to meet with members of the Judiciary Committee and other key legislators. The response was encouraging. As actual job creators, Engine Advocacy's organizers feel they had more credibility with lawmakers than typical lobbyists. According to Masnick, several elected officials made their first public statements against SOPA after meetings with his group.
The timing for such meetings couldn't be better. With notable exceptions, most technology debates in Washington are dangerously lacking in engineering expertise regardless of the issue being discussed. At the House Judiciary Committee's sole hearing on SOPA, only one witness opposed to the bill was allowed to testify--a lawyer for Google.
Yet Congressmen repeatedly prefaced their comments by admitting they didn't understand even the basics of the domain name system, Internet addressing, search engines, social networks, ad networks or online payment processing--all of which would be significantly affected by the legislation. (The committee could start with this letter (PDF) from leading Internet engineers on the dangers of SOPA to cybersecurity and the domain name system.)
Critics have urged Chairman Smith to allow testimony from Internet engineers and others who understand how the Internet economy actually works, a plea repeated many times during last month's markup sessions. As it became clearer that committee members didn't understand key technical concepts, congress members on both sides of the issue acknowledged they needed to hear from engineers or, as they were frequently called at the hearing, "the nerds." (The clip below gives just one example.)
Keeping the momentum on SOPA and beyond

The question now is whether the "nerds" will demand their rightful place at any future discussion of technology regulation, or whether Silicon Valley will ease back into its slumbers.
Establishing a permanent counterbalance to old economy interests won't be easy. Engine Advocacy's McGeary acknowledges that incumbent industries who want to reign in technological change are better organized and know every corridor and office on Capitol Hill by heart. So using social media and other technical advantages will be critical to even the odds. "We can't line up soldiers on an open field," McGeary said. "We need to be rangers and use the tools we have to fight a guerrilla war. The facts are on our side; not that that always wins."
David Johnson, a hardened veteran of such policy fights, isn't especially optimistic. "There's a continued failure in Washington to have a good conversation with the technologists who could really help engineer approaches to dealing with bad actors. If the government would only listen long enough to realize that they would have to recognize the core values of the technical community in return."
Asked what advice he had for new organizations forming to take on Washington's most embedded interests, Johnson urges both an inside and an outside strategy. "They need to be vocal and engaged on the outside, with large numbers of people who are willing to express their concerns to Washington when appropriate."
"But they should also work from inside," Johnson said. "Engage with D.C. and make clear that you're not just a source of campaign funds but also for crafting solutions. The way to win the war is to make a better case about how technology is enhancing the economy and generating jobs."
If Silicon Valley follows that advice, the innovators may finally have a chance to educate lawmakers on the unintended consequences of micromanaging new technologies and emerging markets.
For starters, they can help Congress understand why there's no pride in lawmakers who boast about their ignorance of industries they feel compelled to interfere with, especially when those industries are generating the brightest hope in the economy.
Or, at the very least, get lawmakers to stop referring to those leading the creation of an information-based economy as "nerds."

Larry Downes is a consultant and author. His books include "Unleashing the Killer App" and, most recently, "The Laws of Disruption: Harnessing the New Forces that Govern Life and Business in the Digital Age." Larry is a member of the CNET Blog Network and is not an employee of CBS Interactive.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Gingrich calls Romney Liar On Iowa Caucus Eve (Politico Reprint)

MUSCATINE, Iowa — Onetime Republican presidential front-runner Newt Gingrich called on campaign rival Mitt Romney Tuesday to "just level with the American people" about his moderate political views.

Asked point-blank in a nationally broadcast network interview if he was calling the former Massachusetts governor "a liar," Gingrich replied, "Yes."

In the interview on CBS' "The Early Show," Gingrich declined to predict he'd win Tuesday's Iowa caucuses, but said "I don't think anybody knows who's going to get what right now." He said "I think anybody can come in first" because of a large number of Iowa voters who remained undecided on the day of the caucuses.

Of Romney, Gingrich was asked about previous statements he'd made accusing his opponent of lying. Gingrich assailed Romney for negative television ads that have hurt Gingrich's standing in the polls, saying Romney has been disingenuous about large sums of money that a super PAC has been spending on his behalf for the attack commercials.

"I just think he ought to be honest with the American people and try to win as the real Mitt Romney," Gingrich said. "He ought to be candid and I don't think he's been candid."

But when asked if he could support Romney if he became the party's nominee and runs against President Barack Obama, the former House speaker answered affirmatively. "He would be much less destructive than Barack Obama," Gingrich said. "If you think Barack Obama is someone who is not a risk to the country's future, then that's somebody to vote for."

"I wish Mitt would just level with the American people and be who he really is and let's have a debate between a Massachusetts moderate and a real conservative," Gingrich said.

Briefly the front-runner, Gingrich hoped for a respectable showing in the caucuses after being pounded by millions of dollars in attack ads.

Gingrich was making an 11th-hour push for support as his campaign bus rumbled through eastern Iowa. He began caucus day speaking to about 75 people in a sun-drenched coffee shop in Muscatine.
"All of you have been drowning in negative attack ads. None of them have come from me," he said to applause.

"Iowans have an opportunity tonight to send a message to Washington and to the political system that the age of negative consultants and negative attack ads is over."

He was scheduled to hold another event in Burlington before personally making his case at a caucus gathering in Cedar Falls.

Gingrich is setting his sights on New Hampshire and South Carolina, where he pledged to wage a more aggressive effort to draw contrasts with Romney.

After emerging in early December as a top GOP contender, Gingrich saw his support falter as he took a pounding from a wave of tough ads painting him as an ethically-challenged Washington insider.

The ex-Georgia congressman has tried to cast himself as the conservative heir to President Ronald Reagan, touting a supply-side economic plan of tax cuts and fewer regulations. But he has struggled to with that message by blasting some of his GOP opponents while promising to wage a positive campaign.

"I believe I am the only person who has the range of experience necessary to fundamentally get this country back on the right track," he said.

Branon's Brett Family Valentines Guest wor West Carrol Co. Chamber of Commerce

The West Carroll Chamber of Commerce has announced it will host Branson, Mo.'s No. 1 morning show "The Brett Family" as its Valentines weekend headliner at the Lingo Center in Oak Grove.
"We are thrilled to once again be able to host a group of this caliber for the citizens of northeast Louisiana," said Chamber director Adam Holland. "We had such great success with Red, Hot and Blue last year, we felt that this was something the people of our area wanted on a regular basis."
The Brett Family Show is a variety show that performs hits from the 40's, 50's and 60's; as well as, hits from Motown and pop. There show has won numerous awards through the years including Best Morning Show and Best Young Artist in 2011.
Advanced tickets for the Feb. 11 show are on sale for $15 at Small Town Designs next to the Fiske Theatre in Oak Grove or by calling the Lingo Center at 428-5282.
A two-minute promo of the show as well as more information is available at westcarrollchamber.com.