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So there’s a law that “sets a five-year mandatory prison term for promoting, or pandering, child pornography. It does not require that someone actually possesses child pornography.” The Supreme Court published its verdict in a case on the law, and decided that the law was not unconstitutional.

An appeals court had previously stated that it was overly broad, as it punished the mere suggestion that you had child pornography, not the actual act of transferring CP or possession CP. If a person felt that you honestly had CP to provide, you were guilty of a crime.

There is some precedent for these types of penalties, including attempted murder, conspiracy, and so on. You didn’t actually murder someone, but you had done everything just short of murdering them. I understand laws based on situations like this, as it implies that someone is in grave danger and the plotter needs to be arrested to preserve the life of the intended victim.

In this situation, the person promoting the availability of CP might not possess it, nor do they have the intent to disseminate. However, suggesting that you do have it will get you 5 years in jail minimum. 5 years for not actually possession or distributing something. 5 years for talking about an imaginary product.

Governments have been pulling this crap for years with drugs. If you’re an undercover cop and I show up with baking soda and try to sell you it, pretending that it’s cocaine, many states will send me to jail for as long as they would if I actually had real cocaine. Never mind that I never bought, transported, or provided cocaine; my imaginary bag is somehow the same thing. It’s such bullshit. If anything, the people with imaginary drugs or imaginary CP should be charged with something like intend to defraud, although one might wonder if you can “legally” defraud someone of an illegal product or service.

I agree that CP and narcotics trafficing are major problems in our society; however, it drives me absolutely crazy that we lock people up for imaginary drugs or pornography that never existed, might never have existed, and which never passed from individual to individual. People might say that someone who pretends to distribute CP or drugs is perpetuating the overall problem, and I think that’s an incredibly valid point. Even so, imaginary is still imaginary in my book, and I’m willing to let it slide when we have no proof of imminent danger or distribution.

More from the article:

In the appeals court’s view, the law could apply to an e-mail sent by a grandparent and entitled “Good pics of kids in bed,” showing grandchildren dressed in pajamas.

But Scalia said the appeals court interpretation was unreasonable. “The prosecutions would be thrown out at the threshold,” he said.

I’m not sure what threshold he’s talking about. When CPS takes your kids away? When your name’s published in the newspaper? When the police hold you without bail? Apparently, he’s never read the news. A simple Google search will reveal scores of cases in which the lives of individuals and families were destroyed over innocent situations, like taking nude photos of your own kids running around the house. (Here’s a famous example of this.) American society has gone so crazy with its “do it for the children” fetish that they will throw people in jail, confiscate houses, cars, and bank accounts, and get people fired, all before they’ve been charged or found guilty. Never mind that they might actually be innocent once a reasonable inquiry is held; their lives, financial health, and reputation are irreparably destroyed.

Even if they throw the prosecutions out at the threshold [of the court], your life is over long before your date in the same building. Way to go Scalia, you dumb ass.

I’ve been reading a lot of really amazing books lately that have made me really depressed. Books that make you realize how much there is that you’re not doing with your life, or how much horror has been perpetrated against our fellow man. I think I’m going to plan an adventure. I found a place with reasonable rates on SatPhones, so it’s just a matter of disappearing for a while….

Changing subjects: Do men still carry wallets with pictures in them? I remember that they used to about 10 years ago. I think even I had a wallet with some bent-ass pictures in it. There was usually some permanent dirt or mildew or something in one of the sleeves, making your girlfriend look like more of a horseface than she actually was. I’ll have to ask around. This is going to bother me now.

Since my last attempt was so successful, I decided to try my hand at another play (pretty much stolen from The Most Dangerous Game). This one is meant to highlight the strange Christian notion that despite a completely unfair set of handicaps and unending torment if we choose wrong, god loves us. It’s a bit long, but I give the performance of my career, so I think you should read it all.

The part of Tom Selleck will be played by god, Jonathan Winters will play Tom Selleck’s manservant Ivan, and the part of the kidnapped homeless guy Steve will be played by me, a crazy homeless guy.

Scene opens with Steve asleep on a bed, bloodied up a bit. He slowly wakes up as though drunk, and looks around at his surroundings. Ivan is standing over him.
	Hello? Who are you? Where am I?
	That will be explained to you later. Please get dressed and join us for dinner.
Steve gets dressed and the curtains close. The curtains open again to see Steve seated at a long table in a luxurious dining hall across from Ivan. Tom Selleck enters the room in full military dress, looking quite elegant.
	Hello Steve. I hope you are doing well tonight. I know that you are tired and homeless and your weener often hurts. Would you like to live here in my mansion with me? Everything you could ever want is yours, including weener medicine.
	Sure, that’d be grand. But, what’s the catch?
	Well, I need to make sure you’re the right kind of fellow to live here. You see, I love my fellow man. I want him to be happy and to be free of pain and suffering and to live here forever. However, just because, I want to measure your character before I let you in. Therefore, I propose a game.
	Ivan claps, excited at the prospect of a game. He likes games, especially Hungry Hungry Hippo.
	In my back yard is a large forest. I propose that you run around it, and if I’m able to shoot you and capture you within 24 hours, I’ll let Ivan hold you over a roaring flame and poke your weener with a warm hanger that he might also use to roast marshmallows on. Forever.
	I thought you said you loved your fellow man? What kind of game is this? I want to leave. I didn’t ask to be put into this situation.
	Ah, but you’re missing the big picture. If you win, and can avoid me for 24 hours, you can live here until you die, along with all the other people that I let live here for free without having to go through the same thing as you. I call them my angels, and they live upstairs. They’re pretty stoked to be here, because they don’t have to play the game.
Steve thinks about this. His cardboard box does pretty much suck, but he’s never been a fan of marshmallows. He proceeds cautiously.
	So it’s just you and me, and if I can hide for 24 hours, I get to live here forever?
	Yep, that’s how much I love you. Oh…actually, there is one more thing. The last guy who was here peed all over himself, and ruined some of the upholstery. Oh, what was his name? Adam? I can’t really remember. Anyways, it doesn’t really matter. I’m still pretty steamed about it, so I think I’m going to stab you in the leg to make it harder for you to hide from me.
Tom Selleck stabs Steve in the leg with a large knife.
	Ow! I didn’t pee on your chairs. Why’d you stab me?
	Well, I know you didn’t, but the other guy kinda looked like you, and now I feel like I should punish everyone else who decides to play my game.
	But I didn’t decide to play your game, and now you make it harder for me to win because some other guy before me messed up your stuff? I thought you loved me?
	I do love you, and that’s why there are no more catches. Oh wait, except there is one more catch. Ivan is going to take my dog Lucifer out into the forest after you, and they’re going to harass you and make it harder for you to hide. But beyond that, it’s pretty much fair and square between us. All you have to do is choose to survive for a day, and you’re in, my boy. You’re in! How great is that? Can’t you see that I really do love my fellow man?
Steve may be a crazy homeless guy, but he still has some sense of logic.
	So, what you’re telling me is this: you brought me into this game because you love me. But, because some other guy messed up his Huggies, you stab me in the leg to make it harder for me to win? And, in addition, you are going to let another guy enter the game with the full intention of making it harder for me to win? I’ve already been stabbed; can’t you at least keep Ivan and Lucifer out of the game?
	Sorry mate, I can’t do that. I need you to demonstrate to me that you don’t want to choose Ivan and the blood-thirsty Lucifer. Maybe you’d like to live with them instead, and let them poke you in the weener with a red-hot hanger.
	Steve looks around for help, but finds none. Nervously, he says, I choose you though! Can’t we just abort the game now and I can just live here with you and not have to go hurt myself in the bushes?
	Sorry friend. Even though an abortion of the game would allow you to live with me sooner, I really did go to all this trouble to bring you into my world without you asking me, and I think it’s only right that you should have to run around in the wilderness for a day with your crippled leg and Ivan and Lucifer chasing you. Remember though: I love you, and I want you to make it back here so we can live together with my angels in happiness and free of weener pain. So be a good sport and run along, ok?
Steve tries desperately one last time.
	Wait! It’s not like this is McDonald’s and I came by after hours and demanded to be let in to eat some tasty McGriddles. You brought me to this, punished me for some other guy’s mistake, and have let your manservant and his dog Lucifer chase me down. How is it my fault if you are able to catch me and shoot me, and then let Ivan torture me?
	Quite simple, my boy. I created all of this, so it’s my rules, which are all very fair. And even though a guy who looked like you peed all over my chair, I’m going to let you live with me if only you and your crippled leg can survive my harsh forest and Lucifer chasing you. It’s all very fair, and wouldn’t be otherwise, as I love you very, very much. Nevermind that I brought you here and didn’t ask you if you wanted to play. That’s just the kind of guy I am. I’m gracious like that.
	He loves you Steve, and don’t you forget it, or I get to torture you for the rest of your natural life.

fin

Yesterday, I saw a sticker on an expensive Land Rover that said “Prayer Changes Things.” Everyone knows this, of course, as god is aways deciding the outcome of major sporting events. Then again, I thought to myself, does god help out anyone other than professional sports athletes? Is this bumper sticker trying to impress me by lying?

I continued on my merry way, past some homeless people and an impoverished Mexican family crammed into a beat down truck. It occurred to me that only two types of people would believe this sticker’s bold assertion: the uneducated, and people from wealthy countries.

It goes without saying that uneducated people are the people most susceptible to superstition. My guess is that Stephen Hawking and Albert Einstein do/did not engage in voodoo, or beseech the gods to grant rain in time of drought. On the other hand, the uneducated might see a one-to-one relationship between their prayers to god and deeds on earth and the response god gives them. The mysteries of the universe will always be mysteries, with the reasons beyond their reach. They move within serendipity, looking at coincidence as evidence of action by something bigger than themselves. They pray for rain, and if rain comes, whomever they prayed to listened and took pity. If rain doesn’t come, it doesn’t mean that someone isn’t there, it simply means that someone has decided against them. Prayer changes things, and sometimes it doesn’t. That is the philosophy of the simple-minded.

People from wealthy countries, even the stupid among them, understand that even if they can’t grasp the answer to something, there is probably an answer somewhere, written by someone smarter than themselves. They cannot, however, see a bigger picture to this knowledge even when Science does not have an immediate answer. We may not know exactly how to treat cancer yet, but we know that when people live or die from it, there is something in the gentics or the treatment that effected this result. Those of us with some sense do not immediately forget all the books underlying the knowledge only to lift our heads to the quiet heavens and give thanks. People in wealthy countries are so used to the surroundings of technology that they forget quickly that all of it had some measure in the success of someone living through a terrible ailment. An MRI machine or 100 million dollars poured into new chemotherapy research is forgotten by their sullied religious minds, as though these things were merely a bush on the edge of a witch doctor’s land. Prayer changes things to the wealthy people because they don’t realize how good they have it. They are not in the middle of an African steppe, pleading with the sky to save the gangrenous leg of their beloved child. They are in a hospital, surrounded by a billion dollars of equipment and thousands of years of learning painfully extracted from life and death by countless men and women who now rest in the earth.

Close friends of mine find miracles in many things, including the salvation of their loved ones from death. Their earnest prayers obviously saved this person, as if god had made some mistake and decided at the last moment to seal his beast back into its cage. What about everyone else who has ever uttered a prayer? My aunt died from leukemia in her 70s, begging Jesus to grant her some more time on this earth. What of Christian slaves in the antebellum South? Did god intervene to save every one of them from brutal rape, whippings, beatings, and starvation? Do children not cry out to the great Eternity to fill their stomachs, only to find themselves in the belly of some vulture days later?

The poor and uneducated think prayer works because there can be no other solution. Technology will never save the life of their loved one or bring the rain to save their crops and their families. Either prayer is answered, or it is not. Either way, whomever turns the earth upon its axis hears them. They fail to see that their prayers are answered by timing, not intelligence.

The wealthy, by contrast, are too stupid to realize that every step they take in their world is supported by technology at all levels, whether it be plumbing, medicine, or electricity. Their prayers are answered every second of every day; it’s just that they’ve grown so accustomed to the slavery with which we’ve bound the universe that they don’t ask the prayers any more. When they do pray, they are answered by technology and Science, and like their poor brethren, are too blind to realize that their prayers also fell on proper timing. Had they made the same prayer 10 years sooner, we might not have had the machines we do now, or the ambulances with expensive medications around every corner. Prayer does not change things. It falls onto the deaf ears of a churning universe that knows nothing of our presence. When coincidence intervenes and someone is saved, the rich ignore their surroundings and their education and praise the skies. It is as if god is their servant, and can be made to work the weekend by a little tearful bribe. If god knows all things before their time, of what consequence is prayer? It seems unlikely that we can change the knowledge of an infinite god by sending thoughts in his direction.

At least the poor people see god as like them. He is fickle and can be persuaded. The god of the rich confirms their arrogance as to why their society is elevated; they are the best, the brightest, and of course god has blessed them with riches. He is all powerful and his dictates final. What blissful confirmation of this arrogance it is to suggest that they can change the mind of an unchanging being. They want whatever it is they’re praying for, therefore it must be the right thing. God is no fool, and delivers. Then again, sometimes he doesn’t, but we ignore the silence and tell ourselves that the answer was “no.”

Maybe a better sticker would say “Prayer Changes Things, if We Only Pretend the Non-Answers Never Happened.”

There’s a website called “Why won’t god heal amputees” that’s been around for a while. As you can guess, the central question is: if God can do anything, why are there no documented cases of human amputees regenerating limbs?

Religious people of all stripes see god and his miracles all over the place, whether it be an unexpected check that helps pay the rent or warming up the entire Vermont wilderness to keep an autistic teen safe.

That I’m aware of, there’s no doctrinal basis in any of the Abrahamic religions to suggest that god can’t regenerate limbs; indeed, if the author of the entire universe can’t put a leg back in place, he needs to get his money back from whatever community college he went to.

I had one friend tell me that god doesn’t heal amputees because “humans aren’t lizards”. Of course, this makes no sense. The Old Testament is full of miracles in which god overturns the laws of physics, including stopping the sun. He created Adam from dirt! How hard can it be for him to put a limb back onto a deserving individual? I see no reason to treat limb regeneration as any different than healing gunshot wounds or curing someone of rabies or cancer.

My guess is that most believers would doubt their faith if they actually sat down to pray in earnest for an amputee. More to the point, I’d guess that very few Christians would actually pray for an amputee, as they know that nothing will come of it. What use is prayer if god arbitrarily and automatically discards certain categories of it? What if you’re drowning on a Tuesday and that happens to be the day he doesn’t help drowning victims? Maybe Thursdays are the night he helps NBA players win games, so he ignores prayers asking for help saving your wife from being raped. Who knows?

Nowhere in the Bible does it say that god won’t heal amputees. Rather, it says repeatedly that prayer will be answered, and that through prayer, all things are possible. Once you start jotting down exceptions to the rule, don’t you have to throw away the entire promise?

Many people will probably say something like “god just hasn’t found a reason to heal an amputee yet.” Given that god has busted out billions of miracles since the start of the universe, isn’t there room to give one person back a limb?

Jesus says the following in Mathew:

I tell you the truth, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done to the fig tree, but also you can say to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and it will be done. If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.

Tell this to an Iraq war veteran with a missing leg, or an African who’s arm has been hacked off with a machete. I’m willing to bet both of them see a big asterisk on the end of that quote.