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Saturday, 31 July 2010

Updates to Data Watcher and Battery Watcher

I just released new versions for both of the above.  It's now possible to
  • disable usage and error reporting via the settings screen of both apps
  • select between KB and KiB in the Data Watcher.
I also improved the number formatting in the Data Watcher to always use 3 digits of precision.  So 101,000B is now displayed as 101k, not as 0.1M, as it was before.


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Sunday, 13 April 2008

Get yo' nails did!

Yesterday was two of my dearest friends' birthdays. I took one of them, Shannon, to get her nails done as my gift to her (Tiff, I wish you lived here still, and I'd have taken you too!). Now, this is not a luxury I often indulge in. Since we live on a strict budget, manis and pedis monthly don't fit into a category that is important to us! So I usually get my nails done for very special occasions, and at most, twice a year. Last night, we had Alex's big fundraiser for his school (songwriter's night, food, auction, fun...more on that later), and I considered that, combined with Shannon's b'day, special occasion enough for a small splurge. For those of you who are on a budget, but enjoy the finer things in life, like myself, I wanted to share this little gem with you. With some coupons I found, and tip included I got 2 manis and 2 pedis for $40. How is that possible you say? I'll tell you. At Franklin Hair Academy, you can have a student (or one of their teachers if you request it) do your nails for $8 and toes for $12. With my $2 off coupon, toes for $10. Now you can't beat that. I know some of you don't live here, but most decent sized cities have these places, so search it out. It's spring folks...go ahead and spend $18...treat yourselves...your feet will thank you ;)

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Saturday, July 3, 2010

Upcoming Shows at The Burner's

Fri July 9th 7 PM - Bill Duke$ Birthday Bash with No Redeeming Social Value $10
Fri July 30th 6 PM - Everything Ruined, Slam One Down, plus more bands and details to be announced soon
Fri August 13th 6 PM - F.O.D., McRad, Ambergris, Bad American, Rough on Rats, and Strap Hanger $5 before 8 PM $7 after 8
Fri August 27th 6 PM- TBA
Fri September 10th 6 PM- TBA
Fri September 24th 6 PM- Wisdom in Chains, Whut?, and more TBA
Fri October 8th 6 PM- "Flashback Fest"
Sun October 31st 2 PM- Halloween Madness
Thur November 18th 6 PM- Altercation Comedy Tour

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Why I Bought A Playstation 4

It’s time for a new gaming console

For a family as big as ours, tax season means a return is coming our way.

And for a gamer like me: that means it’s time to pull the trigger on a new gaming console. Here were the options before me:

Nintendo Wii U. Xbox One. Playstation 4. Gaming PC. Playstation Vita.

Before looking to the future, I had to evaluate my current console collection. Let’s set the stage with the systems I currently own:

Continue reading “Why I Bought A Playstation 4”

The Journey of This Gamer Dad

It began with a little triangle shooting dots at flying circles.

It was 1987, I was bouncing off the walls with excitement. It was Christmas morning, and I FINALLY had my 5-yr-old hands on a piece of tech that I was sure would change my life forever…
The Etch-a-Sketch Animator.

Etch-a-Sketch Animator

This little beauty took all the knob turning goodness of the original and – you guessed it – animated it.

Continue reading “The Journey of This Gamer Dad”


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Showdown looming over controversial theory

Monday, March 31, 2008

Karen Franklin, Ph.D.Parental Alienation Syndrome is by far the most controversial theory in high-conflict child custody litigation. And the battle lines are drawn primarily by gender: PAS is apt to be the first line of defense when a husband is accused in a custody battle of sexually abusing his children. That is, provided he has the money to hire a high-powered attorney.

Under the theory, one parent - almost always the mother - is accused of turning the children against the other, and brainwashing them to believe they have been abused even when they have not been.

Click here to read more

PAS in any form is wrong. It does exist no matter that its not accept by APA. I still feel that we should leave off the word Syndrome, and replace it with the word action. That way we leave the APA out of it. Since their main goal it to sell drugs, if a bill was made to stop this then it would be approve by the APA ASAP.

Louise Uccio March 31, 2008 at 5:39 PM

I am a survivor of DV and I will tell you Paret Alienation Syndrome Action or what ever you want to label it IS VERY REAL!!

Morepver, MANY abusers are ALIENATING the children against the survivor.

Take note abusers undermine the parent child relationship while the marriage is still intact, that is the begining of an alienator destroying the relationship once the survivor leaves.

He manipulates the courts often times winning custody that is when the real abuse begins.

If the sexes can finally agree alienating is NOT gender specific but personality specific our children wouldn't suffer because of it.

Louise Uccio

SaFa March 31, 2008 at 6:22 PM

I know it is real, I just feel if you take the syndrome part out then the APA can't said it bad science, since then it wouldn't fall under their review.

Action However would be better since its implies intent. Which can be made in to a criminal charge. mother alienate the kids just as well as fathers can.

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Saturday, July 21, 2007

I, Walker

The air in Jakarta is so polluted that breathing it amounts to smoking two and a half pack of cigarettes per day. I don't smoke, but got addicted anyway. Here in Semarang the sky is clear. And I am going cold turkey.

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Chaos fic: Run for Your Life (If You Can) 1a/3

November 8th, 2012 (06:28 am)

feeling: hopeful

Title: Run For You Life (If You Can)

Disclaimer: I do not own Chaos.

A/N: So, once upon a time, serenity_pen wondered why there wasn’t more Michael fic. I offered to help her out and took on a Michael prompt. Then I sat down to write said prompt. And this happened. It’s still sort of the fic she asked for…just not quite like I think she probably wanted. And definitely not like I intended. Still, I hope it helps fulfill the need for more Michael whump in fandom because I tried hard to deliver on that front.

A/N 2: I couldn’t have written this without lena7142. She basically was there every step of the way and listened to me whine about this fic more than anyone ever should. Then, she beta’ed it. Because yes, she really is amazing like that.

Spoilers: None, except vaguely for Proof of Life because of Carson Simms. This is set preseries. Divided into three parts but all posted today!

Summary: Billy had made a career of running, until he met the ODS.

When Billy was fourteen, he ran away from home

The reasons why were vague to him now, but he could still remember his indignant thoughts, about how limited he was, about how no one treated him right; about how he could do so much better on his own.

Of course, failing his maths test was another compelling reason. His father had never much tolerated his fanciful notions of how studying was a wasted act for a young boy’s ever-evolving psyche.

Whatever the reasons, when things got tough, Billy ran.

For a few days, it had been a lovely thing. Wet and hungry though he was, he figured suffering on his own terms was better than enduring uncreative punitive action from others.

Or so he’d thought until the police had picked him up out of an alleyway, shivering with fever and nearly curled up with hunger.

They bundled him in a blanket, gave him something to eat, and told Billy to just sit tight, they’d have him home in no time.

“You’re calling my mum?” he asked, a little pathetic.

“That is the idea, son,” the cop replied. “You look like a drowned rat, and much longer out there and you’d be catching pneumonia for your troubles.”

Billy sunk wearily down. “But I ran away,” he mumbled, chewing lazily over the soggy fish and chips he’d been given.

The cop tutted, laughing a little. “Boys always do,” he said, starting the car. “When you learn how to tough it out, then we can talk, man to man, yeah?”

Man to man, Billy thought he could tolerate. Hand to ass when he got back home, however, made him think maybe running was still the better option.

Over the years, Billy had made a career of running.

It was rather important in being a spy, he found. Sure, subterfuge and deception were still the preferred methods of going about the job, but sometimes, when things got difficult, running was the only option left that offered any chance of survival.

And besides, he’d literally made a career of running. When his antics got him drawn up on disciplinary measures in the UK, he’d been offered the chance to go to trial and defend himself. Or he could accept a plea deal that ousted him, disgraced and rejected.

It was perhaps no surprise that Billy had chosen to run.

Running meant he could rely on himself. If he just went fast enough, far enough, he wouldn’t have to face up to the unsavory alternatives that possibly awaited him.

So Billy ran.

This time, it was cocaine dealers in Venezuela. Nasty bunch, though not overly bright. Billy had nabbed the intel and had seen no need in finessing an exit that could have led to excessive bloodshed. Not when running was a perfectly viable choice.

And especially when Michael had promptly seen their odds and yelled, “Run!”

Billy wasn’t great with orders – no one who ended up deported from their homeland was particularly good with orders, he reckoned – but he did appreciate that Michael Dorset gave practical orders. Ones that generally made sense and tended to be for his survival and overall wellbeing.

Which was why Michael Dorset was a relatively easy man to follow, all things considered.

Though, the man was a mite slow, if Billy was honest, because when he told Billy to run, Billy took that quite seriously. By the time they’d got outside the perimeter of the camp, he’d started to out distance the man easily, his longer stride and youth pushing him forward even while Michael’s footfalls started to lag behind.

But Billy ran. For the mission, sure. Because it was an order, yes. Because it was his life.

Farther back, he could still hear the sounds of men yelling, their Spanish punctuated by gunfire.

As if Billy needed more inspiration to go faster.

He pushed on, finding endurance he kept saved for just such occasions, pushing himself onward. Because he needed to survive. He needed to make it out of here alive. He needed to run.

He hadn’t left his career in the UK to die in Venezuela. He hadn’t sacrificed everything to fold up and give in over cocaine. Billy was more than happy to serve the greater good, but he’d learned the hard way that if he didn’t look out for himself, then no one else would do it for him.

And Michael couldn’t complain about that. He’d been the one to teach him that lesson, nearly getting Billy killed on his first day with the CIA. He’d been duped, tricked and blackmailed, and if trust had to be owned in the Agency, that meant it could be sold out just as fast.

True, Billy was grateful for the second chance and all, to actually attempt making something of his life, but his new teammates had hardly been the welcoming sort. They’d subjected Billy to every possible ridicule, subjecting him to the worst possible jobs, often without warning him what to expect. He’d been their lackey, the butt of their not-so-funny jokes, and none of his ideas were ever welcomed with anything but disdain and mockery.

Simms had been better than the rest, which was probably why Michael never let Billy work with Carson. This was why he was assigned to Malick, who treated him like a dog, or why he was kept close to Michael, as though he wasn’t to be trusted on his own.

Not that he couldn’t entirely see their point, really. Spies didn’t trust by default, and Billy was an MI6 reject, so the basis for distrust was clearly there, but still.

Billy lived in a tiny rented flat and had three suits to his name. He could barely afford his daily needs and drove an unreliable car with seatbelts that didn’t even work any more. He missed his mum, his girlfriend had dumped him in a bloody email, and he’d been sitting on a milk crate using a computer from 1989.

So when Michael said to run, Billy ran and didn’t look back. Because it was an order. Because it was better than staying and dying. Because he didn’t doubt that his teammates would run on without him, if given the chance.

Only Billy wasn’t about to give them the chance.

Because he could run better than the rest of them.

Moving faster, he gritted his teeth, jumping over the fauna and skirting trees. He made his way over a fallen log, darting forward and veering away, trying to give his pursuers a less visible line to follow.

He couldn’t hear Michael now, but trusted that they were both heading due east, toward the drop point with Carson and Malick. Michael was a paranoid bastard; he could take care of himself.

So Billy ran.

Harder, faster, careening through the jungle, heedless of anything. He would survive; he would run.

He saw the sharp decline, and made a move to avoid it, but his momentum was stronger than he’d expected. He veered abruptly, changing his direction, but as he moved to even out his pace, his foot caught on a rock.

He teetered, trying to right himself, but with his forward motion it was just too much—

Too fast—

And Billy saw the ground coming up to meet him before everything went dark.

Billy was supposed to be running.

True, he wasn’t much for orders, but running was less an order and more of a biological imperative that promoted his long term survival.

So he wanted to be running.

But he wasn’t running. He was…falling?

No, because he wasn’t moving anymore. He was…still?

Which mean that he was a sitting duck, an easy target, which meant he had to run.

That thought galvanized him and he jolted, coming back to consciousness with a horrifying moment of disorientation. He didn’t know how long he’d been out or what exactly had happened. He’d fallen down the hill, he vaguely recalled, he’d missed his step and—

He needed to keep running.

He was so intent on this notion that he fumbled, trying to push himself up—

“Collins, wait—“

But Billy didn’t wait. Couldn’t wait. And he was halfway up, putting pressure on his leg when—

Pain exploded, ripping through him, lighting his leg on fire, burning up the length of his body and paralyzing him. He flopped back to the ground with a scream, sucking in hard as he choked on a sob, hot tears freely down his face.

Someone swore close to him, shuffling closer and putting a hand on his shoulder while he flailed helplessly in the underbrush. “Quiet, quiet, quiet,” Michael hissed. “Just…hold still.”

Billy whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as tears continued to fall. The pain was buzzing now, ringing in his ears and throbbing between his temples. He could feel everything, every beat of his heart, the rough brush against the back of his neck, the encompassing agony from somewhere below his right knee.

The hand squeezed again, the voice gentler now. “Just breathe, okay?” he said. “Just clear your head, in and out, in and out…”

Billy was too weak to disobey, pushing out harsh breaths through his nose and doing his best to stop crying as he breathed in again, each one helping to calm him – a little, anyway.

He laid like that, just breathing while Michael coached him, letting himself drift for a long moment in the pain before his head cleared enough for him to think straight and he opened his eyes.

And there was Michael, hovering right above him. He was still holding onto Billy’s shoulder and offered him a small, lopsided grin. “You back with me now?”

Billy took a shuddering breath, and fought to regain his sense of composure. He swallowed tremulously and managed a small nod. “What happened?”

Michael gave him a funny look, uncertain and guarded. “You fell.”

Billy gritted his teeth and nodded again. “I figured that. How long was I out?”

“A few minutes,” Michael said. “You may have a slight concussion but it doesn’t look bad.”

Billy took a few more breaths. “So we should be running again, yeah?”

Michael’s look turned quizzical. “I don’t think you’re up to it.”

Billy frowned, but Michael’s gaze flickered downward toward the pulsing pain that was Billy’s leg. Billy considered that, and followed the gaze, straining to lift his head enough to see down the length of his body.

At first, he didn’t see much. There was no blood – just a few scraps and a nasty rip on his left sleeve – but something was wrong. Something in the dead weight below his waist, in the intense pain that he was just barely keeping at bay.

And then, he understood. Understood the blinding pain, understood the uncontrolled tears. Understood why running, his best form of defense, was no longer a viable option.

Because his leg was twisted, the foot grotesquely askew in the wrong direction, clearly and very badly broken.

Billy’s first instinct was to run.

He was hurt; he was in pain; he was scared. Because there were still people with guns out there, and he needed to get out. He needed to go. And he needed to go now.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t run. He couldn’t even move.

Panic rose in his throat, threatening to suffocate him and he shook his head in desperate denial. “No,” he said, pushing himself awkwardly on his elbows. He tried to scoot back frantically. “No, no, no.”

Michael sat back a little, hand falling away, but he still hovered. “You’re going to want to be still—“

But Billy didn’t want to be still. He wanted to run. He wanted to get away from this and get away from this now. His leg couldn’t be broken because if his leg was broken, then he couldn’t run. Then he was stuck here. He was stuck here to die.

And Billy didn’t want to die. So he couldn’t have a broken leg. It wasn’t that bad. He could make it work, he could—

His backward movement jarred his leg against a rock and the world whited out. When he came to, he was being propped up against Michael, one arm steadying him around his heaving chest, the other pressed across his mouth.

“Seriously,” Michael said, voice close to his ear. “You need to be still.

There was a quiet urgency in Michael’s voice; this wasn’t an order of contrivance or whim. It was an order of necessity.

Billy tensed, his entire body trembling as fresh tears flowed down his face. He wanted to fight, but Michael’s grip was too secure and his leg ached—

And voices.

Farther away. Footfalls and calls and—

Billy’s breath hitched, heart skipping a beat. Their pursuers were coming.

“We’re going to lie back now,” Michael told him, voice low and almost soundless. “The brush is thick here and the best route is at the top of the ridge, so they’re not going to come this way unless we give them a reason. If you move, you’ll give them a reason. Do you understand?”

Billy blinked rapidly, but finally nodded.

Carefully, Michael shifted, releasing his hold on Billy’s mouth as he moved slightly, lowering Billy down. This time, Billy didn’t resist as Michael placed him on the ground. Quickly, Michael moved, lying next to Billy, his back facing up the ridge, partially obscuring Billy’s exposed form from the view above. Their jackets were neutral, easily blending into the surroundings. With the thicket, they might have a chance.

Or they might not.

Panic threatened to choke him again and Billy closed his eyes, grinding his teeth together so hard that his jaw hurt. Michael was pressed closed to him, and Billy could feel his even breaths, hot against his face.

But Billy didn’t move. He didn’t dare move.

The voices above got closer, the scuffling almost on top of them. Billy flinched despite his best efforts, a low whimper in the back of his throat. Michael’s breathing caught just slightly in response, as if to remind Billy that he wasn’t alone.

As if Billy believed that.

Still, Michael didn’t waver, and after a moment, the voices started to fade, the footfalls dissipating.

Moving on, moving out.

Until the only sound was Michael’s breathing and Billy’s own pounding heart.

It was hard to say how much time had passed, but the minutes had slipped by in the tense stillness. When Michael finally sat up, Billy was lightheaded and nauseous, leg feeling wooden with the unrelenting pain.

On his knees, Michael gave Billy a quick once over. “You okay?”

Billy swallowed shakily, eyes blinking rapidly. “My leg,” he croaked.

Michael nodded grimly. “Yeah,” he said. “You did a number on it.”

Tentative, Billy lifted his head, looking down again. Calmer this time, the sight was no less unsettling. The bottom of his pant leg seemed to be taught, the hot, swollen flesh underneath making it tight. His foot was askew, and despite the fiery pain in his shin, the foot itself felt as though it wasn’t there at all.

Whimpering, Billy dropped his head back, working to keep his breathing in check with only marginal success. “I broke my bloody leg,” he repeated, his hands curling into fists on the jungle floor, pounding lightly in frustration. The implications became suddenly clear to him. A broken leg could just as well be a death sentence. He was like a lame horse, no good for anyone. Only there was likely no one around who would kindly put a gun to his head and finish the job.

Billy paled, glancing over at Michael. Or maybe there was.

He squeezed his eyes closed at the thought, fresh tears slipping out. He’d fallen, broken his leg, fumbled the mission. Maybe MI6 had been right to boot him; he was a screw up, and this proved it. A second chance and no more than six months in and he’d broken his leg. It was pathetic; it was probably typical.

Michael was scuffling about in the brush next to him, and Billy opened his eyes, suddenly afraid. Michael was checking his supplies, zipping up his pack.

Getting ready to leave.

Billy couldn’t blame him for that. After all, when Billy had been running, he hadn’t looked back. Hadn’t bothered. If Michael had gone down, Billy probably wouldn’t have even noticed. Billy was a part of the team, but he was still the new guy. He was pretty sure Casey didn’t even know his first name yet, and Michael seemed to watch every move he made, waiting for a chance to exploit his errors or simply tell him how wrong he was.

And Carson was just happy for someone else to be the butt of jokes for once.

And Billy deserved it. Because he’d been running so fast to save his life that he’d effectively killed himself with one misstep.

Billy swallowed. “You’ll come back?” he asked, daring to hope.

Michael paused, frowning at him. “I wasn’t aware I was going.”

Surprised, Billy stared at him for a moment. “But when they realize they’ve lost the trail, they’ll double back,” he said. “We won’t be lucky twice.”

Michael smiled wryly. “I didn’t realize we’d been lucky yet,” he mused.

Billy kept staring. “But…”

“But I was just seeing if I had anything for you to bite down on,” Michael explained, putting his pack aside. He shrugged, undoing his belt. “I know this isn’t perfect, but it’s the best I have.”

Dumbly, Billy blinked, entirely confounded. “You’re going to strangle me with your belt?” he asked. “Wouldn’t shooting me be easier? Or just leave me the gun and I can do it myself.”

Michael gave him a funny look. “That seems a little drastic.”

Drastic, perhaps. But Billy had a broken leg in a remote region of Venezuela. If the angry drug dealers didn’t come back and behead him, he’d be found by a military sweep and disappeared into a prison system or flaunted as a political pawn. Billy wasn’t walking out of here; he wasn’t running out of here. To his mind, there was no other way out, least not one that wasn’t a bit more permanent.

“I’m as good as dead out here,” he said, breath hitching as the starkness of the reality gripped him. It was oddly settling, numbing the burning pain receptors with cold understanding. “We’re miles from the drop point, and there’s no way Casey and Simms will get here in time before our friends double back. Leaving me here alive just means I’ll be captured. So there’s not really any option left.”

At that, Michael smiled. He moved forward, belt in hand. Billy flinched despite himself. He liked to think he was braver than that, but time had proven otherwise. Michael paused but kept moving, holding it out. “You’ll need something to bite on.”

Billy frowned. “Why?”

“Because when I set your leg, it’s going to hurt,” he said. “A lot.”

Billy’s brow furrowed. “But…”

“Your desire to die for the CIA is very noble,” Michael told him. “But I think it may be a little premature.”

“But I can’t walk,” Billy reminded him. “I’m literally dead weight. You have to leave me.”

Michael shook his head. “We’ll talk about that later,” he said, still holding out the belt. “After I set your leg.”

Billy didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. But it wasn’t like he had any other options. Crippled as he was, he was at Michael Dorset’s mercy – for better or for worse. If he had the perverted notion to torture Billy before leaving him to his own devices, that was the man’s business. Maybe he thought he’d give Billy a fighting chance. Spy agencies were funny like that; they screwed you over while giving you so-called tools to survive. MI6 threatened to put him in prison for the rest of the life or gave him the chance to start again.

Michael would set his leg, maybe in the insane hope that he could carry his own feeble weight out.

Choices that weren’t, it seemed, and yet, Billy could only comply. He’d taken the plea deal; he’d joined the CIA. And reluctantly, he opened his mouth, letting Michael place the worn leather between his teeth.

When it was positioned, Michael sat back, seemingly satisfied, before he turned his attention to Billy’s misshapen leg. Wincing, the older operative ran his fingers gently down the leg, and Billy hissed protectively, starting to tremble again as Michael carefully palpated the clearly broken bone.

Frowning, Michael gripped the bottom of Billy’s pant leg, ripping it quick and clean. It jostled Billy, not much, but enough to make him yelp, biting down instinctively on the hot leather in his mouth. The exposed skin seemed to prickle, pain receptors objecting to the fresh onslaught.

His breathing got heavy as Michael’s fingers trailed on the skin where the bone was clearly jutting awkwardly, pulling it unnaturally taut.

Michael studied it for a moment longer, nodding to himself. “Okay,” he said, moving around to Billy’s foot. He looked up at Billy. “You know, I was premed for a while.”

“Oh?” Billy asked around the belt, feeling vaguely hopeful suddenly. “So you know what you’re doing?”

“Not really,” Michael said, brow furrowed. “I liked the theory, but not so much the application.”

Billy felt his heart stutter, his brow crinkling in a sudden cold fear. “But—“

There was no time to finish his statement. There was no time for anything. Because Michael gripped his ankle, pulling hard and steady. The first yank made Billy’s world explode, his entire body seizing, teeth grinding hopelessly into the leather until the taste of the warm fibers filled his mouth. The intensity usurped his control and he was crying and screaming, flailing desperately, begging around the belt for reprieve, for anything—

Instead, Michael pulled again, and Billy could feel the bones grating, the sound clicking into his consciousness and pulsating hotly through his body like a roaring, uncontrolled flash fire of agony that stole his breath. When the wave reached his head, the blood pounded in his ears until the darkness overtook him.

This time, Billy remembered. On his back, he had a vague sense that time had passed, but when he opened his eyes, nothing had changed. The jungle was dense and hot around him, and Billy was still helpless on his back, his leg broken.

And Michael was still there, sitting next to him, watching him with a curious expression.

Billy swallowed, finding his throat painfully dry. The small movement made his head ache, his consciousness still tenuous as he took uncertain breaths.

“Hey,” Michael said. “Welcome back.”

Billy winced but made no further effort to move. “If this is a welcome party, mate, you Americans need to work on your hospitality.”

Michael grinned. “Good to see your injury hasn’t impaired your total lack of gratitude.”

Billy closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing with difficulty. He let himself breathe for a few long seconds, before opening his eyes again. “How long?”

Michael shrugged. “You’ve been out for about twenty minutes,” he said. “Gave me time to finish with your leg.”

At the mention, pain flared again. Billy lifted his head, squinting as he looked down. The pant leg was entirely tattered now, strips being used to tie a large stick into place, serving as a makeshift splint. The tight knots put pressure on the leg, but with the overwhelming pain, it was hard to differentiate one infliction from another.

He dropped his head back again, sighing as he looked toward Michael. “I reckon thanks are in order,” he said.

“Well, we’re not out of here yet,” Michael said.

Billy nodded, suddenly aware of the jungle around the again. “We probably don’t have long before they come back,” he said. He sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to control the pain even as his chest ached with the effort. “You probably need to get moving.”

Michael gave him a funny look again, but he didn’t disagree. “We’ll get to that point,” he said. “First, let’s take care of you.”

He said it simply, matter of fact, as though time wasn’t of the essence. As if angry drug dealers wouldn’t be doubling back with every intention to kill them – and sitting there, at the bottom of the hill, they were still defenseless.

Still, Michael seemed intently oblivious to such danger. This was perhaps not entirely unexpected. The ODS had a habit of being nonsensical and illogical, though usually they made such choices with their own self preservation in mind. After all, Billy’s second mission had had him playing bait, unarmed and unconscious, giving the bad guys enough pause to see if he was still alive before the rest of the ODS had disarmed and arrested them.

This might have seemed heroic, except for the small fact that Casey had choked Billy out and left him in said state to begin with.

Billy’s well being was a tenuous, expendable thing. MI6 thought so; the ODS was no different.

So why was Michael still there?

Playing doctor, nursemaid…

Michael unscrewed a bottle of water, holding it out.

And now playing mother hen, too.

Billy eyed it, skeptical.

“It’s not poisoned,” Michael said.

Billy still looked at it.

Michael rolled his eyes, taking a quick drink and making a point of swallowing before holding out the bottle again.

So it wasn’t likely to be poison. Unless Michael had somehow built up an immunity to whatever he might use to dose Billy, but that seemed unlikely, even for the ODS.

Well, for Michael anyway. Billy had his doubts regarding Casey.

But that was entirely to be expected considering the fact that the man was probably the closest thing to a genuine psychopath that Billy had ever met – on either side of the law.

Besides, Billy was thirsty. In fact, he was almost parched. So risking a sip might be well worth it.

Defeated, he reached out, taking the bottle from Michael. As he brought it close, he found his hands shaking, and when he looked down, his vision blurred uncomfortably as he attempted to unscrew the cap.

Working his jaw, he did his best not to show his troubles. It was agonizing work, and he still managed to splash some of the water down his chin, but when he was done, he screwed the cap back on and held the bottle back out.

“Thanks,” he said, hoping that he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt.

Taking the bottle, Michael gave him a wary look. This might be bothersome if Michael wasn’t habitually fixing him with such looks, as though he was always assessing Billy’s status – on missions, during briefings, when Billy first walked in to the moment he walked out each night. That was what Michael did. He assessed.

And Billy had yet to pass muster.

Still, Billy was an MI6 reject so he wasn’t sure what he expected, though he was fairly certain daily flagellation at the hands of his so-called teammates had not been part of the plea bargain he’d agreed to. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Billy knew that, but there he was, broken leg in the Venezuelan jungle with angry dealers set to return, and Billy wasn’t begging or choosing. He was simply at the mercy of Michael Dorset.

None of this boded well.

He swallowed, feeling conspicuous. And horribly vulnerable. If there was anything worse than falling down and smashing his leg, it was falling down, smashing his leg and enduring a strange sort of analytic sympathy before being duly left behind to die.

With a shuddering breath, Billy sought to regain some composure. If humiliation and death were inevitable, some self-respect was all he had left. Swallowing again, he nodded, wetting his lips. “Right, then,” he said, matter of fact. “So I reckon that’s about all you can do. I might be able to hobble along…”

Michael shook his head. “That’s a bad break,” he said. “You’ll never get very far.”

The simple pronouncement made Billy’s stomach roil and he felt his composure waver. His jaw trembled and he resisted the inexplicable urge to cry. This was his own fault; his own mess: he couldn’t play the victim. He wouldn’t.

He gave a shaky laugh instead. “Seems like it may be worth the try, I think,” he said. “I mean, I could stay here, but a rescue mission would be too dangerous – no sense in risking any more operatives when we have the intel we need. Granted, the odds aren’t good either way, but seems wrong to lay down and die.”

“I agree,” Michael said. “But you’re forgetting a third option.”

Billy blinked, fumbling for an answer but coming up with nothing. The pain was making him weak, slowing his mental processes as most of his energy was diverted into the simple act of staying conscious.

“You can’t walk on your own,” he said. “But I can help you.”

“You’ve already splinted it—“

“No, I mean, you can lean on me,” Michael said. He shrugged. “A human crutch. It’ll be a little awkward but it should work out okay.”

Billy stared at him, wondering if in his pain he had become delusional without realizing it. The world had taken on a surreal tint, this was true, but there was something staunchly realistic that he couldn’t shake. As if Michael had actually just made such an offer.

Billy snorted. “I’ll slow you down,” he said. “Chances are, they’ll catch us both and we’ll have got nowhere for the trouble.”

Michael eased a shoulder up. “Or we might both make it out of here alive,” he said. “Seems like it’s worth a try.”

In theory, there was something appealing about that. Brothers in arms, and all such things. After all, they were teammates, and the whole point of teammates was to work together to achieve the preferable end.

But they were spies. Bloody spooks. They weren’t soldiers in the battlefield where blood was tested and the bonds were strengthened. The world of espionage was backstabbing and subterfuge; you lied to your enemies, you lied to your friends. You used anyone who was useful, no matter who they were or who they worked for. Loyalty was a strange concept, too tenuous to matter. Spies burned each other; spies used any means to achieve their ends.

This was how Billy had ended up here in the first place. This was why he’d been unceremoniously fired by MI6 and why he hadn’t taken the high road to clear his name. This was why his team had used and abused him, and why Billy had been running without a thought to Michael’s safety.

Because spies were the epitome of lone wolves. They could work together for as long as it was convenient.

It was no longer convenient. Billy would slow Michael down; he could get Michael killed.

For a moment, Billy kept his eyes on Michael, who showed no signs of wavering. “You’re kidding.”

Michael didn’t even blink. “That’d be kind of cruel, wouldn’t it?”

Cruel would be drugging and ditching him. Cruel would be leaving him on the need to know so he almost got his head blown off. Cruel would be sending him into briefings with no background and expecting him to work miracles with the director, who could barely stomach his presence.

His team had been nothing but cruel to him.

So maybe it was a joke. And that was the ultimate cruelty. Let Billy believe there was a chance, that he wouldn’t be abandoned and left, just to make it even more horrendous when he found himself injured, delirious and alone.

“You’re really serious?” Billy asked.

Michael rolled his eyes, getting to his feet. Billy watched, still waiting for him to leave as he crossed in front of Billy.

But then he stopped, offering down his hand.

Billy gaped at it.

Michael held his gaze, hand still out. “I’m ready when you are.”

Billy wasn’t sure he was ready, but he knew he wasn’t ready to die. Selfish to the end, Billy would let himself be a hypocrite and an undeserving bastard as he took the proffered hand and let himself be hoisted up.

Even with the hand up, getting to his feet was a difficult task. The instant he moved his leg, pain erupted with renewed intensity, and Billy blacked out for a moment, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut as he desperately sought to control it.

But he did control it, if only because he had to. Michael was helping him, but Billy couldn’t be so foolish as to think that was an infinite extension of grace. Billy would have to carry most of his own weight, as it were, or he’d find himself back on the ground. And Michael was right – he wouldn’t make it far on his own. Staying awake and staying upright was his only chance of survival.

It wasn’t easy, though. Even after the pain had abated to levels he could control, he still felt shaky and weak, his stomach churning uncomfortably and his head swimming. He was upright, but listing heavily despite his best efforts, putting more weight than he wanted to on Michael’s apparently willing shoulders.

“Just give yourself a moment,” Michael coached, voice soft even as his fingers tightened under Billy’s arm. “When you think you’re good, let me know.”

Billy didn’t think he’d ever be good. Not with his leg busted, his pride damaged and his survival pinned so tenuously on the benevolence of the ODS. Not with a deportation notice and a job dependent on results and angry drug dealers trying to kill him. Not with his mum still crying every time he called, with his friends not taking his calls, and his girlfriend dating his sniveling roommate and telling the world that Billy was a pathetic dolt who had never been worth her time.

was good.

Maybe this was part of Michael’s next phase of torture. Kill him with kindness.

The pain still coursing through him, it seemed plausible enough.

But only if Billy let himself die. Broken leg, damaged pride, sadistic team leader all aside, he was alive. If he could move, then he had a chance.

Pain, humiliation, utter misery: it was a chance he’d take.

That resolution firmly in mind, he sucked in another breath, opening his eyes and putting the pain to the back of his consciousness. The jungle was a little blurry around the edges and his head was buzzing, but he felt mostly coherent.

Mostly ready.

Or as ready as he could be.

Bracing himself, he ground his teeth together, nodding in short, curt movements. “Okay,” he said. “I think I’m ready.”

Michael craned his head, looking at Billy. “You sure?”

Billy was nauseated and in blinding pain while using a man he hardly trusted as a crutch while on the run from drug dealers in the Venezuelan jungle. Billy was sure of nothing, except that he needed to move.

Even if he couldn’t run, he needed to move.

“As much as I can be,” Billy confirmed, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

Michael seemed vaguely impressed. “Okay, then,” he said. “Let’s go.”

And Billy hoped it was that easy.

Posted by: sophie_deangirl (sophie_deangirl)
Posted at: November 12th, 2012 05:52 pm (UTC)
I SO love this!

I read the whole thing and just thoroughly enjoyed what you explore in this story! I JUST ADORE how you're portraying Michael. We saw the practical leader on the show, even when running to save Rick in Mole, he was doing what had to be done. No less heroic, but it just felt like he was doing the only logical thing, by ODS standards, that had to done to accomplish saving Rick. You have that here too, but what makes this so delightfully unique is Billy's POV. I LOVE that you have my vision of Billy completely flipped sideways. He's not the jovial, devil may care, or even heroic Billy I tend to paint him. Here, you show how the deportation and the ODS hazing has left him insecure, doubting, distrustful to the extreme feeling unworthy of rescue, feeling like Casey, Carson and especially Michael just want to be rid of him and in some ways he feels they shouldn't want him and because of all those feelings, Michael's actions seem all the more heroic because of Billy's insecurties and throughout you show Michael demonstrating to Billy how he had "chosen" Billy, that he saw his merits even if Billy doubted them himself. WONDERFUL!!

The rest of the reviews will be fave parts. So many great moments!!!

Fave Parts:

Pain exploded, ripping through him, lighting his leg on fire, burning up the length of his body and paralyzing him. He flopped back to the ground with a scream, sucking in hard as he choked on a sob, hot tears freely down his face.

Someone swore close to him, shuffling closer and putting a hand on his shoulder while he flailed helplessly in the underbrush. “Quiet, quiet, quiet,” Michael hissed. “Just…hold still.”

Billy whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as tears continued to fall. The pain was buzzing now, ringing in his ears and throbbing between his temples. He could feel everything, every beat of his heart, the rough brush against the back of his neck, the encompassing agony from somewhere below his right knee.

The hand squeezed again, the voice gentler now. “Just breathe, okay?” he said. “Just clear your head, in and out, in and out…”

Billy was too weak to disobey, pushing out harsh breaths through his nose and doing his best to stop crying as he breathed in again, each one helping to calm him – a little, anyway.

He laid like that, just breathing while Michael coached him, letting himself drift for a long moment in the pain before his head cleared enough for him to think straight and he opened his eyes.

And there was Michael, hovering right above him. He was still holding onto Billy’s shoulder and offered him a small, lopsided grin. “You back with me now?”

-- you know I loved all this h/c!!!

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: December 2nd, 2012 12:44 pm (UTC)
Re: I SO love this!
billy thinks

It was weird to write Billy this way -- so different than we normally do it. But it was sort of refreshing, and really, it gave him a stronger redemption storyline, which I sort of like :)

Thank you!

Posted by: blackdog_lz (blackdog_lz)
Posted at: November 20th, 2012 07:13 pm (UTC)

Amazingly painful start :)

The description about the broken leg was definitely very visceral.

And I love the fact that Billy is more or less forced to trust Michael to get them out of there.

(And if it weren't so late and I wouldn't have to get up so early tomorrow I'd be reading the next part right now)

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: December 2nd, 2012 12:45 pm (UTC)
billy casey trouble

I'm really glad you liked the start! I had way too much fun breaking Billy's leg :)

4 Read Comments


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Rajani Ramanathan

Advisor/ Former COO (EVP - Technology & Products) at Salesforce

Rajani served as vice president of global sales at Satmetrix and later as Chief Operating Officer (EVP of Technology & Products) at salesforce.com, inc. She has been an Independent Director of ESI Group SA since July 24, 2014. Rajani serves as an advisor or investor in several technology startups including Feathercap, Realine Technology, Growbot, Medium, Invicara, Pipefy, Wizcal, SaferMobility and Trendbrew. Having spent over 26 years in the industry. Rajani has varied experiences, spanning from running her own companies in India to holding leadership positions in both small and large organizations in the US, with Salesforce.com being her most recent position. She has been a Director of Cloud Cherry Pte Ltd. since March 2017. She joined Salesforce.com in 2000. In 2014, she was awarded the YWCA TWIN (Tribute to Women and Industry) Award, which has long been considered one of Silicon Valley’s most prestigious awards honoring women who exemplify leadership excellence in executive-level positions.


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Thursday, June 7, 2012

Rettig Article on OVDI 2012 (6/7/12)

Charles P. Rettig, here, has produced another worthy read.  Charles P. Rettig, The 2012 IRS Offshore Voluntary Disclosure Initiative (Journal of Tax Practice and Procedure (February-March 2012), here.  I apologize to readers for the overdue posting.

The article is mostly a review of the history of the offshore initiative with a peek into where it is going.  Excerpts from the peek into the future are (emphasis supplied in bold by JAT):
Since the 2012 OVDI asserts an offshore penalty based on foreign ﬁnancial accounts and asset valuations, for many with smaller ﬁnancial account values the aggregate offshore penalty determination, even for multiple years, may likely be less outside the OVDI. Indications are that those opting out will be treated fairly, based upon any unique factual scenario. For those participating in the OVDI, is an “opt out” based on a unique factual scenario a viable alternative to the OVDI?
There are rumors regarding ongoing “John Doe” summons activity seeking to force foreign ﬁnancial institutions to deliver account-holder information to the U.S. government as well as possible indictments of foreign ﬁnancial institutions. Recently, several foreign institutions have advised their account holders to consult U.S. tax advisors regarding the IRS offshore voluntary disclosure program and their U.S. tax reporting relating to their foreign ﬁnancial accounts. It is reasonable to assume that such institutions will take whatever action is necessary to avoid being indicted, beginning with the delivery of information regarding account holders to the U.S. government.
It is likely that ongoing enforcement efforts will require foreign ﬁnancial institutions doing business in the United States to disclose account holders having relatively small accounts and earnings. There have been rumors of discussions regarding accounts having a high balance of the equivalent of $50,000 at any time between 2002 and 2010. U.S. persons having interests in foreign ﬁnancial accounts should not ﬁnd comfort in a belief that their foreign ﬁnancial institution will somehow refrain  from disclosing very small accounts in the current enforcement environment. Those who think too long may be sorely surprised at the high level of ultimate cooperation of their institution with the U.S. government.
Taxpayers having undisclosed interests in foreign financial accounts must consult competent tax professionals before deciding to participate in the 2012 OVDI. Many taxpayers will decide to submit a voluntary disclosure based on a personal desire to come into compliance now that they are aware of the FBAR and other foreign account reporting requirements. Others may simply want to move on with their lives. Some may decide to risk detection by the IRS and the imposition of substantial penalties, including the civil fraud penalty, numerous foreign information return penalties, and the potential risk of criminal prosecution. Although the 2012 OVDI penalty regime may seem overly harsh for many, the decision to participate should include an economic analysis of the taxpayers projected future earning power that could be generated from the funds held offshore. Participating taxpayers may well beneﬁt by repatriating stagnant foreign funds into a recessionary domestic economy with a suffering real estate market and business opportunities lurking behind every corner.

  1.  Mr. Rettig says

     for many with smaller ﬁnancial account values the aggregate offshore penalty determination, even for multiple years, may likely be less outside the OVDI. Indications are that those opting out will be treated fairly, based upon any unique factual scenario. For those partici-pating in the OVDI, is an “opt out” based on a unique factual scenario a viable alternative to the OVDI?

    If correct, this is good news for minnows. Not every minnow will have as good a factual scenario as Moby or Sally, but this indicates that they will pay attention to factual scenarios, and distinguish the clearly willful from those with lower levels of culpability.

  2. "Participating taxpayers may well beneﬁt by repatriating stagnant foreign funds into a recessionary domestic economy..."

    And here we see the true purpose of FATCA and its ilk revealed.  Little to do with tax compliance, and mostly about discouraging investment outside of the US, to the point that people give up trying.  Protectionism, in other words.

  3. Yes, that is what we have been saying for some time now.  It is just very unfortunate that the IRS makes you go through such a long grind to reach the back end of the process to get discretionary relief.  Big design flaw that they continue to fail to correct.

  4. Such repatriation will be net zero or worse for the U.S. with foreign investment fleeing because of FF1s #FATCA compliance difficulty and the International Revenue Service (new name for IRS) imposing of the Domestic equivalent of FATCA which I call DATCA.

    See discussion about Florida Banker's Association Op-ed in the Miami Herald on May 24th called
    New IRS rule scares foreign depositors  This is the other side of the FATCA story little understood and even less reported on.  This is an update to a post called DATCA is not Dead.

  5. Yes, but then why join in the first place if one has validated with an attorney that they don't have bad facts, and that they're likely to opt out.

  6. Jack, I just found your June 13 article on "Making Voluntary Disclosures" from the Tax Alliance Conference.  I am not sure if you have published it on this site, but I recommend it as a complement to the Rettig article and also as an article that provides an even broader perspective than the Rettig article.

    Your article summarizes much of what has already been posted on this site. It is nice to have it in all in one place. For those who have recently become FBAR aware, it is worthwhile reading, especially pages 19 and 20.

    I encourage readers to take note of Footnote 20. From personal experience, if OVD participants find that their attorney fees exceed their preparer fees, maybe a re-evaluation of their relationship with the attorney is in order.  There are many different approaches possible.

    For those who want to read the article, it can be found at:

  7. Jack

    I looked up the schedule of the Tax Alliance Conference mentioned by anon5percent and it also mentions that the Taxpayer Advocate is also presenting (indeed, the presenter before you).

    If you or other practitioners get a chance to talk to her, you might want to mention some of your criticism of the OVD programs and how its impacting a lot of (from her own report) "benign players". Even if the IRS is being fair on opt out (and that seems to be the case), some of the horrifying possibilities that it presents (100K/year/account) are likely to discourage people with otherwise good facts from opting out.

    Ms Olson seems to be well aware of the plight of expats -- I'm not sure she is fully aware how much immigrants have been impacted and how some with low to no culpability may been stampeded into the VD programs.

    I realize Ms. Olson has several issues on her plate. Still, she has done a great service already by getting the IRS to confirm
    in its official response to her 2011 report that it would follow the IRM
    mitigation guidelines, and she could at the least push the IRS to provide more transparency on how the IRS is handling 'benign actors'.

  8. I agree that the IRS should have more transparency. Of course, the IRS cannot publish individual penalties and the basis for those individual penalties. But the IRS could present some aggregate penalties in some meaningful way to mitigate the uncertainty surrounding the application of the penalty.

    Jack Townsend

  9. Just read Jack's June 13 article, not only a great summary of what he's said, but candid in saying that OVDI or noisy disclosure are in many cases not as good for the client as quiet disclosure.

    Regarding legal/accounting fees of OVDI, if the IRS weren't threatening draconian penalties, I would have rather paid the same amount to the IRS, if I had been given assurance of no draconian penalties.  Instead I must spend those fees to avoid any footfault in my disclosure that might impair my chances of opting out or cause a worse result.

    There are few lawyers and accountants with knowledge and experience in this area, so the few who do are expensive.

    One way to limit fees is to organize bank statements and explain anything that's cryptic to the accountant, instead of letting him do everything.  Not only are you saving a substantial hourly fee, but it will probably take you less time to do so since you are familiar with the activity in your own account.  I haven't gotten a bill for my amended returns yet, but I believe this will pay off.

  10. Jack

    Anything you can share with us from the conference ? The Taxpayer Advocate has to come out with her objectives report for 2012 soon, so it would be good for minnows if she were to cover the VD program and urge more disclosure from the IRS. And if she were to identify this as a systemic problem .. that would mean the TAS would pay more attention to minnow complaints.

  11. She really did not say anything relevant to offshore accounts that was not already well publicized.

    It is clear that she disagrees with the Commissioner's approach of having the heavy inside OVDI penalty, but not offering some guidelines or categories of penalties that might apply on opt out. She believes in transparency and fairness. At least in this segment of its operations, the IRS does not believe in transparency; the open question is whether it believes in fairness and is willing to exercise that belief when people opt out.

    The tragedy, I think, is that the lack of transparency has created so much unnecessary anxiety among good people. I personally think the IRS and the American people in generally would have been better served with more transparency about the opt out / audit results.

    As I have said before with more transparency and an incentive to come into the open (say 1/2 the normal audit result), I think the IRS would have served the American people better and got more people into compliance going into the future. That would have been win-win. But, then I don't run the IRS.

    Nina Olsen's heart is in the right place.

    She did misspeak at one point. The only reason I mention it is because others may labor upon a similar misunderstanding. She said that those who opt out could be subject to more onerous civil penalties and would lose the protection from criminal prosecution. The latter is not true. The criminal protection continues on opt out. The only risk on opt out is a more onerous civil penalty. But, in my view, the persons who are really at risk of a more onerous penalty would be stupid to opt out because they and their advisers should know that they will draw a more onerous civil penalty.

    Jack Townsend

  12.  Jack

    Yes, Ms. Olsen's heart is in the right place and so is yours.

    Unfortunately, the lack of transparency means that except for those on the fringes (those who clearly should opt out and those who clearly should not) matters become fuzzy. Practitioners know a great deal about how the IRS and the courts determine civil fraud ('badges of fraud' and so forth) and the penalties. For FBAR violations, there is almost no guidance. Will the IRS use a line item such as 'Schedule B check' to determine a willful violation ? or will they do  a full analysis as they typically have to do for civil fraud ? Will they consider that tax due may be a rounding error (and sometimes literally 0) ? Will they try and apply multiple penalties per account (despite the clear guidance that this should be done only in the most egregious cases) ? And so on ...

    I'm preaching to the choir here ..

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Monday, October 27, 2008

Geraghty -- Obi-wan speaks up

Geraghty the Indispensable has been speaking with his longtime mentor -- self-dubbed Obi-wan -- on the state of the presidential race. Here is what Obi-wan has to offer today: [Emphasis mine]

Last week told us what we need to know about the election.

First our celebrated and opulently-compensated experts showed they not only don’t get it, but they had missed probably the most important single event of the campaign.

The shocker polls last Wednesday came out indicating McCain had had a seven point rise over six days and essentially tied the race. (And had gone back into a slight lead in Florida and Ohio ) The
AP’s article about their poll putting Obama ahead by 1 percent was crediting what no one else saw, that McCain’s performance in the debate had actually been a game changer

The Uncommitteds saw McCain not only as better leader, but he moved up on key issues. So in the mano-a-mano comparison he was not only way ahead but he had set up his issues for the rest of the campaign — he had control of the foreign policy issue and then he took away his opponents main issue with “spread the wealth.” And he had a great visual — Joe the Plumber.

In the week following the debate, McCain had gotten the magical turn that campaigns sometimes get – great positioning on the issues, the candidate finding his voice, effective visuals with the “Joe the Plumber” ads and four polls showing his Florida tour pulled him out in front there. [Insert from Jim: Survey USA, Rasmussen, Mason-Dixon, Strategic Vision.]

This all seemed like a repeat of September when McCain had risen 9 points in six days and had started winning every key state and showed strength all over the country, even in the northeast (remember those
4 point polls in Jersey and six points in New York?) And the Republicans were leading among likely voters in the generic poll and going to pick up house seats.

The experts didn’t see any of that coming.

Just as they missed the debate’s impact.

Anyway, trajectories like the one McCain was on are almost impossible to stop. Obama had to do something or McCain was going to go into the weekend with a lead.

Having sat on his lead in the debate, he now seemed frozen. In normal times that should have sealed the deal.

But… this is the most unusual political environment since the Depression.

Because by Thursday, McCain had stalled and Obama got points back going into the weekend.
Obama didn’t do anything. The stock market did a lot.

Last week told us what this election is going to come down to.

First, Obama has not made the sale about himself, McCain has. McCain also has the edge on several key issues. The uncommitted vote is large and they want to vote for McCain.

But the fear and anger factor over economic disruption is powerful. It could rise to a 1974 level where voters just want to express their anger and take it out on the incumbent and his party. That’s the nightmare scenario, where you lose all sorts of good Republicans in the Senate and House.

But probably the least emotional pollster around told somebody I know about Obama’s lead returning late last week. This pollster said, “They aren’t voting for Obama. They are angry about what has happened to their 401(k) and are voting against Bush. They actually favor McCain.”

That’s the question what will happen on Election Day—which uncommitted voter will show up?

The frustrated one the polls have measured so far?

Or will they pivot? Come out of the fear and anger? Realize they are voting for their children’s future in a dangerous world and take the Election-Day decision as soberly and patriotically as they almost always have?

So this is the election of the Janus-faced uncommitted voter. Are the uncommitted going to vote their mood or their judgment?

SO ENOUGH ANALYSIS IS THE GREAT SEER OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC? Normally you would be nothing but optimistic. But we have never seen a situation like this before. No one really understands it. It is just irresponsible for pollsters and networks to do their electoral maps without mentioning how McCain has already surprised them twice and that they are polling in an unprecedented atmosphere.

That’s why optimistic or pessimistic are the wrong words. They only apply to situations when you have some handle on most of the big variables. The biggest variable here we haven’t seen before.
That’s why key Obama people are nervous. People like Ed Rendell ought to feel good about Pennsylvania. He doesn’t. He knows it can slip away. And don’t forget Obama lost primaries where he had an eight point lead. [Insert from Jim:
New Hampshire.]

What is justified is hope. A stable week economically and a little bit of a finish by McCain and it is doable. Remember this isn’t 1974 or even 1976 in one important way. There’s a GOP candidate who probably had [a] blow-out debate. And that may be the single most important thing voters most remember on election day.

And once again there’s that thing Reagan used to say about the American people coming through when it counts.

He makes a lot of good points about this race, but the one that sticks out is his disdain for the pollsters. He's right. They're not paying close enough attention to how McCain can turn this race. He's done it before. Remember that last year as November and December were rolling around, the GOP had basically written off McCain. But over the holidays he surged back. (This, I believe, was due in no small part to so many of the New Media pundits taking the holidays off. We had been the ones hammering him the hardest, and when you let up in a fight, your opponent will get back up.)

There's another thing about the pollsters that many have recognized, but they don't mention. There is a significant difference in who these people poll. It's obvious that they're polling more Democrats than Republicans, and it wasn't until just recently that they started injecting independents into their polls. But there is another factor that has been overlooked, and it's one I noticed this weekend.

This race isn't just about McCain and Obama. Bob Barr and Ralph Nader are in this race too, and while they won't win, there is a nagging question in the back of my head. How many will Barr peel off from McCain, and how many will Nader take from Obama? (It should also be noted that pollsters aren't putting either candidate in any of their questions, and that has been done by pollsters for some time. The '96 election was the last time I can recall that they put ALL of the candidates int he polls. WE contend that they're doing this to downplay the so-called "Perot factor." Had it not been for Ross Perot, we wouldn't have had a President Clinton most likely.) If Barr and Nader can take enough votes away from both McCain and Obama then this election is up for grabs.

But he's right as to what will help McCain. As of this writing, the market is up, barely. If it continues to make modest gains this week, and McCain hammers home specific points of contention then he will pull this out. He needs to remind the people that if they're skittish about the economy the last person they want in the White House is Obama; the last people we want to see fiddling with the economy are Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid.

We only have two gripes about McCain in this election. First, he hasn't been as hard-hitting as he should have been, and he lacks the feistiness we're used to seeing from him. Second, he hasn't done a good job, except during the last debate, contrasting himself with Obama. There are significant differences between these two men, and John McCain needs to hammer that point home this week.

Publius II

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