The New York Times reports about the interrogation of Faisal Shahzad, who was arrested for trying to explode a bomb in Times Square:
"The suspect, Faisal Shahzad, was interrogated without initially being read his Miranda rights under a public safety exception, and provided what the F.B.I. called “valuable intelligence and evidence.
After investigators determined there was no imminent threat to be headed off, Mr. Shahzad was later read his rights to remain silent, but he waived them and continued talking, the F.B.I. said. Authorities charged him as a civilian on Tuesday, but postponed plans to bring him to court."
Based on what we know, it sounds like the FBI made a good judgment call here. Shahzad is a U.S. citizen who has been living in the United States and was caught in the United States for a crime committed in the United States: Surely this is a case for federal court
Right on, Feds - that was quick thinking. There will be no "Fruit of the Poisonous Tree" doctrine here.
You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter.
Like Huck Finn and Holden Caulfield before him, young Jack is beginning to unleash his attitude and shape the world to his liking.
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth
At least, he can shape the world to his liking until Doc says "no." But she can't say that forever, can she? A boy's gotta *live*!
Jackson has never been one to enjoy riding in the car. Even as a very tiny babe, he hated being strapped into his carseat.
We were hoping with the graduation to forward facing, he'd be less inclined to scream and throw things in protest but, alas, we still struggle with trips of greater than approximately 5 minutes. Fortunately for us, though, Jackson has a weakness. And that weakness is Monkeys.
He has two of them. First, there is Little Monkey. When freshly opened from Great Granny Frannie last July at the beach, none of us had any idea that that screeching lavender ball of fuzz would become the one thing in this world powerful enough to soothe our son no matter how dire the tantrum had become. It has long since lost its ability to howl like any self-respecting purple howler (due to the futile attempts at washing out the stench) and the stuffing is all but gone in his neck leaving him rather floppy about the head. His tail is perpetually wet from being chewed on and the smell....well, let's just say that is about the most authentic monkey-part about him. All it takes is to find Little Monkey napping on the floor behind the couch or under a chair in the kitchen for Jackson to giggle and gleefully run to fetch his beloved friend. He is required for all stressful situations and most definitely for napping and sleeping.
And then there is Big Monkey. He is, as described, the bigger of the two. His main purpose is Jackson's night time bedmate, blanket, and pillow. But, as of late, he has also become a daytime companion, coming out to wrestle and hug and kindly offer himself as a warm soft place to sit on cold tile floors. Jack is also partial to the occasional body-slam of Big Monkey from the top rail of the ring. Unfortunately, Big Monkey cannot be washed as his fur is tenuously attached but he does enjoy the occasional tongue-bath from Dean the Dog when no one is looking.
Both by themselves are powerful animals but, when combined, they appear to have truly magical properties. Today is the perfect example. After a wonderful, albeit somewhat sleepless, weekend in Greenville at Cousin David's wedding, we settled in this morning for a 3 hour car ride home. Jackson napped for only the first 30 minutes and then was wide awake "asking" to be let out of his carseat. When he had eaten his body weight in animal crackers and destroyed every scrap of paper I could find to give him, with still 2 hours left to go, we desperately pulled out our secret weapon(s). The Monkeys.
It worked like a charm.
Who knows how long these beloved animals will have their powers. I'm sure one day, probably not in the too far off future, their hair will be loved off, their eyes will be gone, and they will be loose in the joints and very shabby and suddenly will turn real and run off into the woods to join their own kind. But at least, for now, we have a predictable arsenal of mitigating monkeys in the struggle for peace in the Shaw household.
< a moment of silence passes while Jack wails softly in the background; the birds continue to innocently (but annoyingly) tweet >
Matilda (realizing he has just been impliedly authorized to go buy doughnuts on a Sunday morning) : "I'll see what I can do"
< The scene is the car at the drive-up window. Having cunningly applied his Joyner Elementary School Krispy Kreme Fundraising Card to the transaction, Matilda absconds with two-dozen doughnuts for the price of one. Actually, slightly less of a deal when you factor in the money he gave to the elementary school, but whatev. A dozen assorted (mostly chocolate) and a dozen glazed Hot & Now's gently await their impending conquest. Jack sits happily in the back seat cooing. >
< The scene returns to the house, two hours later. A somewhat sticky and very hyperglycemic 15 month-old toddles uncertainly back to his sleeping mother. >
Doc: "Good morning, sweetie.." Jack: "Bo-nahts" Doc: "Why are you so sticky and warm and glazed? Oh, your fingers taste so good! Sweet bliss!" Matilda: "Honey, we've been eating doughnuts for a while now. I think he ate three - I wouldn't shake him too much like that.
I am proud to report that this year's effective tax rate for our small Married Filing Jointly family was a rock-bottom PR of 3.13% We are damn close to being one of the 47% of American households that don't pay any income tax at all. (Don't forget, however, that those poor* people are still subject to the regressive spectre of sales tax - unless they use Amazon - not to mention state and FICA taxes of approximately 8% each.)
* used in this sense, "poor" refers to the pitiable nature of these folks, not their station relative to the poverty line.
As a commentary on all the time we waste arguing about taxes and making the tax code and all of the deductions and credits more complex, I offer the graphs and passage below (artfully excerpted from Wikipedia). Enjoy.
This graph shows the effective tax rate per $ of income. For tax year 2009, it is reported that President Obama recognized income (AGI) of $5.5MM and paid taxes of $1.7MM. That puts him at an effective tax rate of just under 31%. For reference, that is ten times more than me. I win.
This next graph shows the change in top marginal income tax rates over history (currently around 35%). Despite the wide variance you see in the graph, Hauser's Law accurately theorizes that regardless of the top marginal rates, tax revenues will remain unchanged.
Hauser's Law is a theory that states that in the United States, federal tax revenues will always be equal to approximately 19.5% of GDP, regardless of what the top marginal tax rate is. The theory was first suggested in 1993 by Kurt Hauser, a San Francisco investment economist, who wrote at the time, "No matter what the tax rates have been, in postwar America tax revenues have remained at about 19.5% of GDP." In a May 20, 2008 editorial in the Wall St. Journal, David Ranson published a graph showing that even though the top marginal tax rate of federal income tax had varied between a low of 28% to a high of 91% between 1950 and 2007, federal tax revenues had indeed constantly remained at about 19.5% of GDP. Critics of Hauser's Law, such as Zubin Jelveh in a Wall St. Journal editorial, point out that tax revenues have fallen as top income rates declined if you don't include Social Security revenues. Similarly, other changes in tax rates and the income threshold for paying those rates are expected to impact tax revenues and should be considered when analyzing the relationship between tax-rates and tax revenues.
All Dad had to say when I told him of my accomplishments? "Enjoy it while you can." True enough.
Matilda owes much of its lineage to the fighting prowess of the ANZAC warriors. So we were not surprised to see a preview of some of the latest sniper-training technology show up at this western Australia SOF training facility.
The Rover system by Marathon applies state-of-the-art robotic technology to live-fire sniper training. This approach simultaneously improves realism and challenge of training while reducing the overall cost of ownership.
With the Rover system, a single instructor can conduct complex long-duration scenarios with multiple free-ranging targets. No need to use a joystick – just give the command and off they go, following a pre-orchestrated scenario. When a target is shot, it provides instant visual feedback by stopping and dropping its mannequin. It simultaneously sends a message to other targets, who can react by running for cover.
Fast-forward to 4:45 for some real "action". My favorite part? When one robot is shot, the others "run for cover." Awesomeness.
Apparently, the Segway is more useful than just giving cops another way to do their job without having to actually walk..
After more than several attempts throwing a hammer tied to a small rope tied to a big ropeover a tree branch waaaaaay up in the air, Daddy _finally_ got my swing hung up and ready to go. I've only been waiting since January - I think this was my birthday present. That's only 3 months to you, but it's a fifth of my whole life. Anyway, we pretty much had to wait for some sunny weather, so no harm no foul.
I'm ready to go. Can you tell? C'mon, let's go! Hurry up and buckle me in, Mom..
Last weekend, we made the long but much needed drive to Charleston for what I would like to become a reliable annual pilgrimage.
At the 33rd edition of the Cooper River Bridge Run in Charleston SC, I finished my 8th Bridge Run in a time of - well, a respectable time given my "relatively advanced age" (as my father tends to characterize it). At least, I think it was my 8th running - may have done more, but my records are a bit spotty.
Thinking back, I realized my first race was in 1992, the last year the race was held on the oldest of the three spans, the John P. Grace Memorial Bridge (which opened in 1929). I still remember the unnerving sensation of running on a bridge rocked by undulations as 7,000 runners made the crossing.
The next year, 1993, and the races following in '94 and '95, the race was held on the Silas N. Pearman Bridge, a luxurious three lanes in width. This testament to modern engineering had only been around since 1966.
College interrupted my running for a while, particularly since most of our crew races were held in the spring. I returned in 2001 and 2002 to post a PR of 43:07, and then again in 2007 for my first race on the "new" Cooper River bridge, the Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge. I have to say, it took some getting used to, adjusting to the width and substance of the one-humped iteration this span represents. I think the race was more interesting on the old spans, to be honest, even though they are (were) steeper in grade than the Ravenel bridge and had two spans (read: uphill).
This picture and the one preceding are terrific shots showing all three spans as they co-existed before the demolition of the Pearman and Grace bridges in the fall of 2005. These photos were taken from Charleston Harbor by my friend Will Bean.
2010 was my first race in Charleston since Jack was born, but I wasn't too much worse for wear - faster than '07, at least. Just over 33,000 of my closest friends finished the course this year, and Simon Ndirangu of Kenya crossed the line to win while I was nearing the halfway point. Oh well - there's always next year!
NB: Older photo courtesy Wikipedia; modern shots by Will Bean.
Once again, we are blessed to have talented photographer Rachel Garrison on the short list of "Our Very Favoritest People in the World." Why, you ask? Because she keeps taking these fabulous pictures of Jackson, and we just can't thank her enough for it.
There is no way a man like me deserves a wife and kid this awesome. Much less a photog-friend that can actually capture that awesomeness, again and again and again. Thanks, Rae.
I am not quite sure I can express what the words "Seventy-five" and "sunny" do for my soul in March. It has been a long winter by a variety of standards, but being able to run around in my back yard with my wife and kid and dog makes the wait worthwhile.
Little did Jack know, Tickle Monster lives outside too. He especially likes to hang out near the hammock..
That's right: he's Mr. Cool. And as always, another shot of the dog:
Last weekend we had the good fortune to attend the annual re-enactment of the Battle of Guilford Courthouse, ca. 1781. There, 4000 Continentals and Militia under the leadership of Gen'l Nathanael Greene laid a whooping on the damn redcoats, relinquishing the field but at the cost of such extreme casualties that the British Southern Army was eventually required to withdraw to Yorktown.
Jack had a pretty good time too. He didn't even flinch much when the cannons went off - he may have a little warrior in him yet. At right, you can see the neatly covered and aligned tents of the 2d No. Carolina Regt. (the 6th was also in attendance).
Who, day and night, must scramble for a living, Feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers? And who has the right, as master of the house, To have the final word at home?
The Papa, the Papa! Tradition. The Papa, the Papa! Tradition.
Who must know the way to make a proper home, A quiet home, a kosher home? Who must raise the family and run the home, So Papa's free to read the holy books?
The Mama, the Mama! Tradition! The Mama, the Mama! Tradition!
I had to laugh a bit tonight when Doc raised her eyebrows at my invocation tonight of "The Papa, the Papa! - Tradition!" Of course I didn't realize she hadn't seen the movie. L'll be the first to admit that my comments were a little (ok, a lot) tongue-in-cheek, since there is only one person in this house with a job and it ain't Good Ol' Matilda. But it is the very fact that we have our own very wonderful traditions - partnership, equality, appreciation - that makes this sort of exchange something we can really laugh at. Kaynahorah!
