Net Neutrality (and why you should care)

Sean-Paul Kelley has been leading the charge in the battle to keep the Internet wild and free despite the whining of corporate titans like AT&T's Ed Whitacre, who would rather make us all pay dearly for the privilege of using his "pipes".

(A personal shoutout to Big Ed: I just upgraded my service with you despite the fact that you signed off on the most massive invasion of privacy in recorded history. If you keep trying to shaft the entire world, you'll force me to drop my DSL like a bad transmission and encourage all ten of my loyal readers to sign up with Time Warner Cable. Capice?)

Little would have come of this had it not been for five Democrats in the House, two of which sold out extraordinarily cheap: San Antonio's Charlie Gonzales and Houston's Gene Green. Charles Kuffner, as usual, has the best summary and linkage.

Please go and follow them -- his links, and his suggestions.

Some days I think that the Romans really were onto something

It's been a couple of weeks since I last mocked out the Christians, so let's laugh first at what Lisa sent me:

God Hates Shrimp

... and then at one of the archived "Jesus of the Week" features:

You can’t read it at this size, but the little sweetsie cutesie cross-stitched pillow (go here to see it) next to this fine white lady says “Awaiting Christ’s Return.”

Well, turn around and try not to flip off the porch swing! He’s right behind you!

Is there room for two on that bench?

Please take note of the Son of God's perfectly blow-dried, Aqua-Netted coif in the photo linked above. Never in his entire life has Rick Perry had a hair day that good.

And Christ's Commandant has the last word for Shelley Malkin.

Update (4/29): Pete details how the Christian marketing effort has spread into throwback jerseys.

This Land is Mi Tierra

Thanks for the header and the artwork, Houston Press.

You can get it on a T-shirt, and maybe in time for the Brownout on Monday.

Update: And don't miss this week's "Ask a Mexican".

Update II: Does anybody still care what this stupid bastard thinks about anything?

Other takes on the past week's events

David Sirota on his visit to Deep-In-The-Hearta:

When I boarded the plane this past Friday to head to Austin, Texas, I didn’t know what to expect. As I told some folks while I was down there, usually when I think of Texas I think of George W. Bush - not a great image. But now that I am back from the weekend, I am inspired - there is some real progressive energy down there, both in Austin, and in Texas as a whole. You can see some video here and hear some audio here from the big panel event the Texas Observer held for Hostile Takeover - it featured me, Congressman Lloyd Doggett, Molly Ivins, author Robert Bryce and Texans for Public Justice’s Craig MacDonald.

During the weekend I had a chance to meet progressives like David Van Os, the Democratic nominee for Texas Attorney General, state Rep. Garnet Coleman, state Rep. Elliott Naishtat, and the hard-working members of the Progressive Populist Caucus. The disgust with what the right-wing is doing to Texas is palpable - and I came away from my Lone Star State experience feeling hopeful that that state does not have to stay red forever.

Joy Demark, via Vince Leibowitz, on the SDEC meeting where Boyd Richie was selected interim chair of the Texas Democratic Party, also in Austin this weekend past:

It is painfully obvious that most Republicans are planning to starve public schools out of existence in Texas. They are going about it in a most vicious and systematic manner.

The Texas Young Democrats met and elected officers in Austin this weekend -- that was the third thing happening.

DKS, posting at the new Texas Kos, on the Filibuster for Education (just a week in the rear-view mirror):

Imagine yourself just after sundown, sitting on the grass in front of the steps of the state capitol, and a country lawyer is talking about the state constitution. Soon, he asks a question of you, wanting to know what you think of a particular point, or wanting to know if you have a story about what he's discussing. You find, after a few second's thought, that you do have something to say, and you slowly begin to articulate an idea or experience, or even another question. Something very deep inside you begins to emerge, and you find that what you have to say in response, opens up a spring in others. You feel intensely engaged; learning, teaching, questioning. You are not there to score points, to show how smart or informed you are. You along with the 20 or so others and that country lawyer, are, you suddenly realize, practicing democracy. Then it hits you - Elliot Shapleigh is over there on the grass, listening, as is Maria Luisa Alvarado, a tourist from Pakistan, a capitol guard, a few students, a bag lady, and sundry assorted folks - they're all listening to you. And the warm, breezy dark is like a caress, the bottle of cold water somebody hands you is like the finest bourbon, you can smell newly-mown grass, and you remember that this is the real world you want to make better; protecting this for the future is why your presence is so important to these others, yourself and our posterity.

Vince also has a nice summary of public school financing in Texas, and has been live-blogging the special session. Don't miss it.

Back to Austin today

for a little party business, a meeting with a leading progressive blogger (and one of my personal favorites), and some of that Sixth Street magic.

More with pictures to come.

The Best and Weirdest from the Filibuster

Best Moment:

Jim Dillon, a local self-employed carpenter who has attended both Filibusters, always brings a bullhorn but it is rarely used; David prefers no microphones, no soapboxes -- in a word, no grandstanding, just exercising his right of free discourse on public grounds, like the way it used to be.

But Governor Goodhair himself came out the front door of the Capitol around noon on Monday, headed for his black SUV, and Dillon turned on the bullhorn and accosted him verbally for the twenty-seconds-or-so walk from the steps to the vehicle.

In a polite way. "You're going to have to answer to the voters of Texas for your incompetence, Governor. Do you have anything to say to the citizens gathered here?" And stuff like that.

Governor MoFo only scurried faster to his car. He didn't stop or take questions.

Second Best Moment:

David railing about the "silk-stockinged corporate lobbyists" as said lobbyists strolled past, trying not to look at us. This happened at least half a dozen times.

Weirdest Moment:

The afore-mentioned Jim Dillon -- his business card says that he is a "Christian Patriot" and a"Master Craftsman" -- announced his candidacy as a write-in candidate for Governor of Texas, and he filibustered the Filibuster until we asked him to stop. I don't think he mentioned anything about education during his 10 or so minutes, but he did recoin NCLB as "No Child's Behind Left Alone".

Update (4/20): Go see the gallery of photos from the Filibuster for Education here, or a small but full-size selection here (warning for dialup users; both clicks load slowly for you).

Day Two was cooler

(cross-posted here)

... at least it wasn't 101 degrees, anyway.

After I live-blogged Monday evening, Senator Eliot Shapleigh stopped by with us for about a half hour. And I believe I saw Senfronia Thompson also, with a group that paused for a few moments after leaving the Capitol. Was that you, Rep. Thompson? (I just want you to know that you're one of my heroes.)

We had a lively group well after dark, maybe twenty or so, and I lost altitude and crashed on the lawn, and Snarko got pictures -- I'm guessing with drool coming out of my mouth -- and we drew our first warning from the DPS for me being asleep on the grounds (a violation of city ordinance, or maybe state law).

I can sleep almost anywhere. I'm like a dog in that respect. But I also sleep like a cat, which is to say that after a few minutes of rest I awake -- or am awakened -- alert and refreshed. So we soldiered on to dawn, and I got David to tell us a little Texas history regarding the founder of public education in Texas (and the namesake of my alma mater), Mirabeau B. Lamar.

You can read more at the Wiki link, but here are the things I did not know:

• Lamar and Sam Houston were bitter political enemies.
• Lamar sent five men to scout for a suitable location for the capital of the new Republic of Texas. His conditions were a place of natural grandeur, one which was suitable for commercial water transportation, and a spot on the western frontier (which mostly ruled out the coastal areas). Two scouts returned with selections along the Colorado River-- at that time it was navigable all the way to the Gulf of Mexico -- and Lamar chose the one named Waterloo. It was very near where the Congress Street bridge, the Mexican freetail bats' winter home, crosses what Austinites call Town Lake today.
• The place named for the first true statesman of the fledgling Republic was indeed on the eastern edge of Comanche territory, which extended all the way to what is now Santa Fe, New Mexico. The Comanche didn't care much for the white man and his settlements. Legend has it that Stephen F. negotiated a peace treaty with them and other tribes who had raided the area at the location where now stands the Treaty Oak.

Anyway, I digress. Go to the links for more.

I gave in to Dr. Somnambulus around six a.m. and went back to the campaign office and flopped 'til about 8:30, then rushed back over to the Capitol with breakfast. David had regained strength and momentum and was railing about being dissed by R.G. Ratcliffe, who had walked past us a few minutes earlier and apparently pretended we weren't there. Colonel Ann Wright and a group of about half-a-dozen Cindy supporters passed, heading inside, and we all waved at each other.

As we approached the twenty-fourth hour, a lecturn and sound system was prepared on the south steps for the education rally hosted by The Metro Alliance and the Interfaith organizations of Texas. We joined their rally, where this impressive list of your favorites in the House all spoke:

• Rep. Elliott Naishtat
• Rep. Aaron Pena
• Rep. Chente Quintanilla
• Rep. "Mando" Martinez
• Rep. Roberto Alonzo
• Rep. (soon to be Senator) Carlos Uresti
• Rep. Ruth Jones McClendon
• Rep. Trey Martinez Fischer
• Rep. Rene Oliveira

They all visited with us and several greeted David warmly.

We wrapped around 12:30 --I missed the Feingold-Courage event, but Karl-T live-blogged it -- went to the scene of the big rally that night for lunch, and then I drove home, barely keeping awake.

The Statesman has a couple of snarky paragraphs here. The Fort Worth Star-Telegram and the The San Antonio Express-News blog also allegedly have posted something, but I cannot find either mention. If anyone does, send it and I'll update this post.

Back in a few minutes with a Best and Weirdest Moments.

Update: Here's a snip from Lisa Sandberg's post:

"People have come to see themselves as consumers or spectators of politics when in fact they're producers."

Van Os, who came dressed in jeans, a blue shirt, a navy vest and a white Stetson hat, is not one for soundbites. A guy who begins a speech on education by reading from the Texas Declaration of Independence of 1836 isn't likely to voice a quick fix for the state's school funding problems.

He's got plenty of well-wishers. He said Sen. Eliot Shapleigh, D-El Paso, dropped by to see him, as did Rep. Carlos Uresti, D-San Antonio and Rep. Ruth Jones McClendon, D-San Antonio.

Update II (4/20): And Kelly Shannon of the AP, via the Startle-Gram:

On Monday, GOP Lt. Gov. David Dewhurst's gavel fell apart when he banged it to call the Senate to order. "I hope that's not a reflection on the session," he quipped.

Outside the Capitol, Democratic attorney general candidate David Van Os started what he called a 24-hour filibuster to pronounce that Texas legislators are failing when it comes to complying with the Texas Constitution's section on education.

Just in from Austin. ...

... and I'm too tired to do anything but direct you to the one liveblog post here, and tell you I'll have another one later. After I rest. So it will be a post-liveblog post. Or something.

Good night.

Why are we building an embassy in Iraq the size of the Vatican?

The fortress-like compound rising beside the Tigris River here will be the largest of its kind in the world, the size of Vatican City, with the population of a small town, its own defense force, self-contained power and water, and a precarious perch at the heart of Iraq's turbulent future.

The new U.S. Embassy also seems as cloaked in secrecy as the ministate in Rome.

"We can't talk about it. Security reasons," Roberta Rossi, a spokeswoman at the current embassy, said when asked for information about the project.

A British tabloid even told readers the location was being kept secret — news that would surprise Baghdadis who for months have watched the forest of construction cranes at work across the winding Tigris, at the very center of their city and within easy mortar range of anti-U.S. forces in the capital, though fewer explode there these days.

The embassy complex — 21 buildings on 104 acres, according to a U.S. Senate Foreign Relations report — is taking shape on riverside parkland in the fortified "Green Zone," just east of al-Samoud, a former palace of Saddam Hussein's, and across the road from the building where the ex-dictator is now on trial.

Bold emphasis above is mine. So how much is this costing? Is Halliburton involved?

"Embassy Baghdad" will dwarf new U.S. embassies elsewhere, projects that typically cover 10 acres. The embassy's 104 acres is six times larger than the United Nations compound in New York, and two-thirds the acreage of Washington's National Mall.

Original cost estimates ranged over $1 billion, but Congress appropriated only $592 million in the emergency Iraq budget adopted last year. Most has gone to a Kuwait builder, First Kuwaiti Trading & Contracting, with the rest awarded to six contractors working on the project's "classified" portion — the actual embassy offices.

Higgins declined to identify those builders, citing security reasons, but said five were American companies.

Who still thinks we're going to pull troops out of Iraq in our lifetime?

Christ vs. Christians

Two excellent pieces to celebrate Easter. First from Tom in Lake Jackson, commenting on this news from Houston:

If you think Jesus will be lurking up in the rafters of Minute Maid Park for this appalling display of extratheological fluff, I would make you a small bet that, instead, he will be out in some park with the kids looking for the eggs the bunny left for them.

He may even help hide the eggs.

The Christian church that has gone bats over abortion and homosexuality while turning a blind eye to war and poverty still manages to have a good time worshipping entertainers and celebrity. I find it nauseating.

And "If I were a Christian":

If I were Christian, I'd have to guess that Christ doesn't care what the heck you call yourself, Republican, Democrat, Boy Scout, Muslim, Hindu or even atheist; it's your deeds that count, your actions that matter, and your character that defines you. Good people are identified as good by the good deeds they do, while evil people are identified by doing evil deeds. I'd point out clearly that arguing for the cult like worship of any human being, in any nation, as an inerrant God like leader, praising warfare or terrorism, the repression and bombing of innocent civilians, arguing that torture or murder or genocide is a good thing, and defending the wealthy and powerful, is completely at odds with what Christ clearly taught.

...

If I were Christian I would be filled with pride and wonder that my blood, organs, skin, and hair, are made from the elements cooked inside of ancient stellar furnaces. That the mortal coils we each inhabit were bequethed to us via countless generations of living things and exquisite constructs, from primate to bacteria, from organic protien to cosmic proton. And I would weep with the glorious knowledge that I am made of star-dust.

...

If I were Christian, I'd have to guess that Christ, who was after all beaten to a bloody pulp and then nailed to a cross to die a horrible, lingering, death, for our sins, wouldn't think very highly of a (political) party, a faction, a group, a pharaoh, a Caesar, or a President, that thinks they should be able to legally whisk people off to torture chambers to foreign shit-holes run by despots, with no trial or charges ever held for them! And were I a Christian, I'd have to guess that any beliver would and absolutely should be very nervous about being associated with torture in any way, shape, or form.

...

But I'd also have to guess there is one huge difference between Christ and me: I have little patience for folks that use religion as a tool of manipulation. And for the mad bombers and their enablers, whether they justify their killing sprees with passage's or sura's, I wouldn't mind if they spent the rest of their days in prison mumbling holy hatred to themselves while strapped to a gurney in a straitjacket. Christ was an inspiring example, and that's true regardless if the underlying theology is accurate or not. But I'd have a hard time living up to His standard. It would be challenging for me to forgive some of those people, including I'm sad to say those that are destroying this nation from within and without. But I'd pray for the strength to do so, if I were Christian.

Read the entire post here.