Brendan I. Koerner's Blog, page 39

The Human Fly, Cont'd

Though I can't quite claim to have solved the mystery of The Human Fly's identity and current whereabouts, which I wrote about a month ago, I'm happy to report that Microkhan has at least uncovered another thread to the tale. Canadian film director Steve Goldmann popped by the blog to point us toward his documentary short about The Human Fly (above), which focuses on the impresarios behind the operation: Joseph and Dominic Ramacieri, pepperoni-making brothers from Montreal. Bored with the processed meats business, they dreamed of having their names attached to a daredevil enterprise that would exceed Evel Knievel's in terms of fame. But that dream came crashing down, quite literally, one unfortunate night when The Human Fly revved up his motorcycle behind a long line of school buses…

Seriously, watch the whole thing—well worth your eight minutes. And let's hope Goldmann is able to make good on his plans to turn The Human Fly's story into a feature. I'd love to see Zach Galifianakis tackle to role of Joe Ramacieri.

The Art of Seeming Like You Care

As I believe I've mentioned in this space before, the best teacher I ever had was a rotund, sweaty Jesuit who presided over my 10th-grade history class. Among his many wise lessons was one that invoked Napoleon's rise to power as a case study. He argued quite convincingly that the French Consulate was designed with only one objective in mind: to fail utterly. The ludicrously complex system of government allowed Napoleon and his supporters to claim that they were interested in democracy, when they were in fact counting the hours until the perilous house of cards collapsed.

Ever since, I've always thought back to that lesson when I encounter a political solution that has no credible chance of succeeding, yet provides some cover for a figure who wants to appear like he's doing his job. The latest case in point is the new amnesty scheme from Kenya's beleaguered Anti-Corruption Commission. Check out the details and ask yourself how many larcenous members of the nation's elite will step forward to forfeit their ill-gotten gains:

Those willing to take up the offer are required to fully disclose and declare the wealth illegally acquired and pay it back with an extra 12 percent of the value of the wealth, in return for amnesty.

According to KACC Director PLO Lumumba, not all cases will warranty amnesty, but those that pass the test as set out in the law will be considered.

"This is an offer that we are making to Kenyans that have illegally or improperly acquired money or property. Once you give us the list of property then we will publish the names in newspapers and invite Kenyans to raise objections," he told journalists at Integrity Centre.

"Not all every applicant will qualify. Each case will be considered on its own merit," Dr Lumumba said as he assured that the disclosure of illegally acquired wealth and property will be done in an open manner.

"Once you give us the list (of illegally acquired assets) then we will use it to track your other assets either registered in the name of your spouse, relatives or companies in which you have got interests. If you think that you have stolen Sh1 billion then you will declare Sh100,000 and celebrate then you are in for a rude shock," he further stated.

So, if you are honest enough to step forward and say, "My bad," you a) have no guarantees that your apology will be accepted, b) must pay 12 percent interest, and c) get called out in public, thereby opening yourself up to the threat of vigilante justice or worse. Your only benefit is exemption from prosecution that you're almost guaranteed to evade anyway, given the Anti-Corruption Commission's terrible track record of enforcement.

How about we set an over/under on the number of Kenyans who will take advantage of this law? Does six seem right? Seven?

(Image via Kikulacho)

Passing Through the Membrane

Sweltering weather here in the County of Queens, but can't let it make a bother—gotta pass through what John McPhee termed "the membrane" and get to thinking only about writing. So signing off 'til early next week—might not circle back to y'all 'til Tuesday, when I'll return with tales of Kenyan anti-corruption efforts, anti-psychic laws in Massachusetts, and (finally!) the porcine economy in the highlands of Papua New Guinea. 'Til then, please enjoy the classic cut above, via the latest Bastard Jazz Radio show. Judging by her lyrics, Ms. McCreary appears to be having a harder time than you.

Truthiness

As I try and focus on the painful act of book-writing, I've been giving a lot of thought to the unwritten rules of non-fiction‐or, rather, the fact that those rules seem to vary by creator. While I spend time agonizing over which version of a remembered quote to use, other writers seem to have no problem inventing details out of whole cloth. Am I dooming my project to obscurity by obsessing too much over accuracy, or do the slightest journalistic feints discredit the entire enterprise?

With that conundrum occupying far too much of my mental bandwidth, I took a keen interest in the just-released appellate ruling in Bustos v. A&E Television Networks. The medium here is TV, but the issue is the same: can the truth be fudged even a little in the service of storytelling? Or as the judge put it:

Can you win damages in a defamation suit for being called a member of the Aryan Brotherhood prison gang on cable television when, as it happens, you have merely conspired with the Brotherhood in a criminal enterprise? The answer is no. While the statement may cause you a world of trouble, while it may not be precisely true, it is substantially true. And that is enough to call an end to this litigation as a matter of law.

Jerry Lee Bustos is a longtime inmate at the federal supermax facility at Florence, Colorado. Back in 1998, he was chatting with a few acquaintances on the prison yard when another inmate — who seemed to be walking along minding his own business — punched Mr. Bustos in the back of the head. Mr. Bustos wasn't one to back down from an unprovoked attack and the pair quickly squared off as other residents of Florence looked on. After a few minutes, baton-toting prison guards stepped in, but by then Mr. Bustos had caught a few good punches and was no better for the wear.

Unfortunately for Mr. Bustos, the entire episode was captured by a prison surveillance camera. And worse, A&E Television Networks got a hold of the footage and featured it on its national cable television show, Gangland: Aryan Brotherhood. The program paired images of Mr. Bustos with a stentorian narrator who described the Aryan Brotherhood prison gang, its white-supremacist views, and its violent history.

Mr. Bustos complains that this in-all-ways-unsolicited television appearance has caused him an acre of difficulty. He says the program's suggestion that he is a member of the Aryan Brotherhood has devastated his popularity around the jail. The Brotherhood, it turns out, did not appreciate his publicly appearing as a member without their invitation. And other gangs have also apparently become leery that Mr. Bustos might be a clandestine member of the Brotherhood. So now, Mr. Bustos complains, he has received death threats and for his own safety can't be transferred to a less restrictive form of custody. Despite his best efforts, he just can't convince his fellow prisoners that he's not actually a member of the Aryan Brotherhood.

The court ultimately concluded that program made a charge that, while not wholly accurate by prison standards, at least had a substantial kernel of truth: Bustos had been involved in a drug-smuggling operation with AB members, and had apologized to one of the organization's leaders when he messed-up a delivery. Perhaps he had never been formally tapped into the gang, but guilt-by-association was good enough in this case.

The decision cites several cases from the publishing world, notably Masson v. New Yorker Magazine, which found that "minor inaccuracies do not amount to falsity so long as the substance, the gist, the sting, of the libelous charge be justified." In other words, liberties can be taken. But are readers aware of this wiggle room when they read a work labeled non-fiction? How much "creativity" does the typical reader expect when they delve into a narrative?

I'm really struggling with this. I never want to invent dialogue or describe details that have no zero in fact, but sometimes a scene seems dead on the page if there isn't enough visual richness. Do decisions like Bustos indicate that writers who resist the Sirens' call of slight-of-hand are dinosaurs these days?

Tall J Speaks

Though Microkhan can't claim to be the most journalistically rigorous blog on The Tubes, we do strive for a certain amount of fairness. And so we feel compelled to publish a response to last week's post regarding the Tall J Foundation, they mysterious American mining concern that recently drew the ire of Bougainville's president. He accused the company of misleading members of a tribal group involved in negotiations to reopen the long-shuttered Panguna copper mine. In our account of the controversy, we specifically called out one Stephen M. Strauss, and noted that his name appeared in court records involving a Securities and Exchange Commission case. Much to our delight, Mr. Strauss saw fit to offer a defense on Microkhan—it's reprinted verbatim below:

I wanted to clarify a couple of mis-statements that you have made in your article. I am the Steve Strauss that you are speaking about and yes that is me in Olive Branch, MS. Other than that your story is very inaccurate. Tall J has been involved in Bougainville for the past 18 months. I have lived with the Me'ekamui for 9 of those months in Panguna. During that time i have never met President Momis nor has any of the people that are associated with Tall J. This has been confirmed by Ruben Sierra who is an attorney and works with the ABG -Ruben ran for President against President Momis and came in third. He approached the President and confirmed that we had never been introduced (our other partner spent 4 weeks awaiting a meeting with President Momis but he was unavailable).

We had an ex partner named Stewart Sytner who still claims affiliation when speaking to the tribe with Tall J. He resigned in 2009 by his own choice and in May of 2010, he attempted to steal 60k from us. Stewart and his partner Tom Megas did meet with President Momis earlier this year. Stewart and Tom Megas are part of a company called BCIT a public company and if you read the posts about them, you will realize they are the group behind the failed meeting in Cairns, they are the ones that are creating unrest with the tribal group- we don't know who that group that you mention is – we have never had a meeting with or spoken with anyone claiming affiliation with that group-they claim President Phillip Miriiori but he has always been with the Me'ekamui Government of Unity (i have documents signed by President Phillip under the MGU letterhead). We have only dealt with President Phillip Miriori of the Me'ekamui Government of Unity – the government group organized by the 13 paramount chiefs of Bougainville and who is working closely with the ABG – the only real point of conflict between the ABG and MGU is what to do with the Panguna Mine – a dispute that we have stayed completely out of and offered no opinion on), with O'orang Mining and Exploration (a PNG organized company) with whom we have a services contract to assist them in the clean up of the tailings (over 7 miles from the Panguna Mine)….our project has been submitted for approval to the ABG and we have a landowners group that is under contract with O'orang. We have over $500,000 worth of equipment in Panguna area and we have developed a good solid relationship with the people.

Lastly as to the Chilmark fiasco, the pump and dump scheme involved a total of $60,000. I never sold a share of stock while i was CEO of Chilmark. The interesting point that i would like you to investigate is the company that purchased Chilmark was a company called IBIE – guess who the chairman of the board of that company was when they purchased us? guess who gave me all of the information for the press releases that were issued ? if i told you Stewart Sytner would you be surprised? I am an idiot for working with him and have promised never to get near anything he ever does again. I can substantiate all of the emails for the press releases, the theft of the 60k and anything else that you may wish to verify.

That's a lot to chew over, and I'll leave it up to y'all as to whether you believe Mr. Strauss or think he doth protest too much. But it's worth mentioning that Stewart Sytner does seem to have a strange connection to the so-called Government of Meekaumi. And his name pops in some investment forum searches, particularly this one where he is alleged to have posed as a Papua New Guinea diplomat.

Mr. Sytner, is you're out there, please feel free to respond to Mr. Strauss in the comments below. If you keep it civil, we'll push your words onto Microkhan's front page. We're all about being the blog of record for Bougainvillean business.

The Unsung Hero of Slots

After a gestation period that lasted nearly a year, my latest Wired story is finally out. It's a tough one to summarize, but the tale centers on a Cuban-Latvian engineer who figured out a way to replicate the slot machines manufactured by International Game Technology (IGT), the S&P 500 company that has long dominated the slots industry. I don't want to reveal too much about the plot beyond that, lest I ruin the reading experience for y'all. Please, check it our for yourself and, should it give you some small dose of pleasure, help spread the good word.

But I'm happy to offer some extras throughout the week, as is my wont when major projects drop. The detail I've been dying to share with y'all is the one about the invention that has come to define modern slot machines, a patent that vastly improved casino revenues by convincing players that their eyes could allow them to accurately assess a machine's odds. As I explain in the story:

Slots didn't truly become America's favorite casino pastime until a Norwegian mathematician named Inge Telnaes came up with the most brilliant gambling innovation since the point spread.

The problem with slot machines, as Telnaes saw it, was that their jackpots were limited by the number of reels they could use. Since players expected each reel to have no more than 10 to 15 symbols, a machine needed many reels to make the odds long enough to justify a huge payout when all the cherries or bells settled into a row. But the more reels a machine had, the more players were reminded of the fact that their quest for riches would likely end in futility; no one wanted to try their luck on a machine with dozens of reels (or, alternatively, hundreds and hundreds of symbols on enormous reels).

Telnaes' solution to this conundrum was US Patent Number 4,448,419, awarded in 1984. His invention called for slot machine results to be determined not by the spinning of reels but by a random-number generator. The reels on such a machine would display only a visual representation of the generator's results, lining up when a winning number spit forth or (far more frequently) settling into a losing mishmash of symbols. The patent made possible the development of slot machines that could offer extremely long odds—and thus enticingly massive jackpots—while still appearing to have just a few tumblers.

The fact that random number generators power all modern slots suggests that any money spent on tip books is money completely wasted. Yet there is no shortage of media that promises to teach paying customers how to beat those dastardly one-armed bandits. In the end, of course, playing slots requires no more skill than playing Candy Land. Less, even: you have to count the spaces in Candy Land.

Please, read on, and I'll have more story extras as the week progresses.

"Success in Work, Comrade"

Searching for motivation to once again get cracking on my book for an eight-hour stretch, I stumbled across this excellent trove of East German labor propaganda. These particular images were produced at the tail end of Communist Era, and they reflect the nation's struggles to keep pace with the West. There are plenty of mentions of the concept of "competition," though the propagandists seem to want to stoke rivalries between individual workers, rather than between companies. I guess we all know how that approach turned out.

The collection is part of a larger Calvin College archive, which includes some priceless relics from East Germany's 30th anniversary as well as satirical cartoons that dared to gently mock the country's pollution woes. In looking at the posters and leaflets that feature photographs of actual humans, I have to wonder whether certain East Germans were able to make decent livings as models—not because they were particularly attractive, but rather because their looks were judged to represent the Communist ideal. Like this happy lady fresh from her shift at the factory—surely she was sort of a Carol Alt of the proletariat.

The Maestro Has Entered the Building

I was all set to write a thoughtful post about the declining fortunes of cemetery towns, but looks like there just isn't going to be enough time today. I'm already running late for Microkhan Jr.'s first violin recital, at which he will allegedly do a solo in "Three Blind Mice." The morning's more exciting musical news, however, is that the kid prepared for the gig by listening to his new favorite song. How sweet it is to hear him bounding around the yurt, singing in a faux baritone, "If you base your life on credit…"

Apologies for the absence, per the usual. Spend today's Microkhan time on this compendium of candid shots from Papua New Guinea. Love the bovine safety billboard above; my goal is to someday have enough scratch to hang a high-quality copy above my desk.

The Book is the Boss

Moving from Atlah to Queens has been an arduous process, but the act of sifting through one's detritus has not been without its small pleasures. I've had occasion to stumble upon various old magazines that I kept around for one reason or another, and flipping through their pages has often reminded me of why I saved these publications from the rubbish bin. One of my favorite finds was a 2006 issue of The Paris Review, which I preserved on account of this fantastic Stephen King interview about the art of writing. I was deep into bringing Now the Hell Will Start to life when I bought the mag, and I remember being greatly comforted by King's descriptions of his daily struggles. This passage, about the trials and tribulations of revision, makes the whole issue worth the price of admission:

Every book is different each time you revise it. Because when you finish the book, you say to yourself, This isn't what I meant to write at all. At some point, when you're actually writing the book, you realize that. But if you try to steer it, you're like a pitcher trying to steer a fastball, and you screw everything up. As the science-fiction writer Alfred Bester used to say, The book is the boss. You've got to let the book go where it wants to go, and you just follow along. If it doesn't do that, it's a bad book. And I've had bad books. I think Rose Madder fits in that category, because it never really took off. I felt like I had to force that one.

There's also a bit about how King spent the early part of his career revising while twisted on liquor and/or drugs—something I find tough to process, as my rudimentary experiments with non-sober editing have always proven disastrous. My problem with such an approach is that intoxicants totally strip away my sense of judgment—after a couple of Crown Royals on ice, I think the most florid, artificial prose sounds spot-on. Maybe my particular neural chemistry would respond better the Murakami approach to downshifting from writing to revising.

(Image via Looking for the Magic)

The Allure of Meat

The crime rate in Bermuda is , but I'm still surprised the island nation's police force had time to solve a five-year-old cold case that was far from dastardly: the theft of $70 worth of meat from a home. The perpetrator of this not-so-sinister act was finally nabbed last month, after Bermudan cops finally linked his fingerprints to those found on the victim's refrigerator. The exact nature of the stolen meat is not mentioned in the newspaper account of the mystery's end.

It might seem curious that a burglar would swipe only a few steaks or chops from a house, when there were surely more valuable baubles ripe for the plucking. But as I discussed in this 2007 Slate piece, meat is arguably the item most coveted by small-time criminals, particularly those who engage in retail theft rather than burglary. This is in large part because meat has symbolic heft as an aspirational item:

Loss-prevention specialists note that a large number of meatlifting incidents, if not the majority, involve the pilfering of meats associated with luxury dining: rib-eyes, filet mignons, or lamb chops, among other treats. Stores have had particular problems with cuts bearing the Certified Angus Beef brand, which are often displayed near ostensibly less succulent offerings. With only enough money to purchase an ordinary chuck-eye roast, many otherwise ethical shoppers make a snap decision to lift the Angus instead. Store detectives speculate that these meatlifters feel entitled to have steak instead of hamburger on occasion, as a reward for their hard work; swiping an expensive bottle of dish soap doesn't provide the same sense of satisfaction. Though men and women shoplift in equal numbers, such aspirational meatlifters are most likely to be gainfully employed women between 35 and 54, according to a 2005 University of Florida study; men prefer to lift Tylenol or batteries, often for resale and often to support a drug or alcohol habit.

I now have to wonder if we'll ever reach the point where consumers feel compelled to affix security devices to meat products that they take home, in order to prevent incidents like the one in Bermuda. And if lab-grown meat ever does become a staple of America's diet, will it have the same cache among crooks as the stuff that comes from actual animals?