Update

Penn State panel clears climatologist Michael Mann in e-mail case

By Faye Flam
Philadelphia Inquirer Staff Writer

In a report that may help dispel the so-called Climategate scandal, a Pennsylvania State University panel Thursday fully cleared climatologist Michael Mann of professional-misconduct allegations.

The university launched an inquiry in November after hackers exposed more than 1,000 private e-mail messages sent between Mann and colleagues in England.

Critics of climate scientists said that statements in the e-mail messages exposed climate change as a hoax and revealed a deliberate cover-up. The stolen messages were touted in blogs and op-eds as reason to doubt the widely held view that the global climate has warmed substantially over the last century and that human-generated greenhouses gases play a role.

"I knew ultimately I'd be vindicated by a fair review of the facts," Mann said. "Now we can all hopefully get back to doing research."

This case is unusual in that the investigation was prompted by calls and e-mail from university alumni, state and local politicians, and others, according to a draft of the report. Usually, universities launch scientific fraud investigations only when specific charges are brought by a colleague.

A draft of the report released Thursday concluded that "the Investigatory Committee after careful review of all available evidence, determined that there is no substance to the allegations against Dr. Michael E. Mann, professor, Department of Meteorology, Pennsylvania State University."

Mann is best known for advancing the use of tree rings, ice cores, corals, and other indirect measures to reconstruct the global climate over the last millennium. His graphs tracing global temperature history have been dubbed the "hockey stick" because the temperatures appear to rise sharply during the last century.


click here for complete article by Faye Flam

+48 hours

Haven't had a cigarette since Friday evening.

So far so good.

The Street

Tax Amnesty Is For Suckers

For supersmart finance guys, every debt is an opportunity for securitization.

By Michael Silverstein

I have this friend I'll call "Gerard." He's made a lot of money running with the Wall Street crowd over the years, and he's never reluctant to talk about his successes. He's also fond of bragging about how he's gotten out of paying his taxes, which struck me as kind of dumb until I realized that, for people like Gerard, all aspects of financial life are played according to a different set of rules.

My enlightenment came after I heard the city of Philadelphia was offering a tax amnesty. Since Gerard has lived here a long time and boasted that he never bothered paying the Business Privilege Tax - and since the city had threatened to come down on tax evaders who don't take advantage of the amnesty like a ton of cheesesteaks - I figured Gerard was in deep Cheez Whiz.

Foolish me.

"Your problem, Mike," he said over coffee and danish, smiling benignly as he chewed, "is you don't recognize opportunity when it comes along."

"How can owing a huge amount of back taxes be an opportunity?" I asked.

He laughed. "Nothing is expensive if someone else foots the bill. I got investors to pay this freight."

"That's crazy," I replied.

He laughed harder. "Yeah, like a fox. All I had to do was securitize the debt; turn it into a CDO - that's a collateralized debt obligation, for folks like yourself. I owed Philly taxes for a bunch of years. I packaged these yearly debts as a kind of bond, and I got a broker-dealer to peddle it for me."

I was astounded.

"What kind of securities dealer would peddle this?" I asked.

"One whose traders like their commissions," Gerard said. "The commission on this baby was very, very attractive. On top of that, it had a great rating."

"Not possible," I said.

He laughed still harder. "Who do you think pays for ratings? The people who buy financial instruments?" Gerard loved that word - instrument - because it made him feel like a heart surgeon when he used it, he once told me.

"The issuer of these instruments pays for the ratings," he continued. "I'm the issuer here - the client who has to be accommodated - and I was backed up by calls from traders wanting my deal's generous commission."

"All right," I said. "So you could sell it. But who would buy it?"

There was a twinkle in Gerard's eye now. "Reputable seller, good rating, and I threw in a generous coupon. It couldn't miss. You only get a pittance in coupon interest from government and top corporate debt these days, because the Fed is keeping national interest rates low to help pump up the economy. Searching for a decent return makes investors willing to buy almost anything.

"And of course," he added, "the first investors never get stuck on deals like this, even if they tank."

"Why not?" I asked, my head spinning.

"Because they swap the debt, Mike. What's wrong with you? Haven't you ever heard of swaps - where, for a fee, some party agrees to pay up if a debt instrument" - he sure loved that word - "defaults?"

"So these swappers are the ones who get stuck when you default - which, no offense, I expect you to?"

"Don't be silly, Mike. The swappers buy their own insurance for defaults. So it's passed along. That's the game all the big boys play."

I nodded. "So the last swapper holds the bag, right?"

Gerard stared in disbelief at my lack of financial sophistication. "The last swapper, Mike, is almost always a party that needs a tax loss from a default, so the savings are almost always larger than what that party has to pay to cover the defaulted debt.

"This country has a complicated tax system, in case you haven't noticed," he continued. "Profit, loss - it's all in the bookkeeping."

I finally understood. Even if Uncle Sam doesn't get hit directly, as with the AIG bailout, he gets hit indirectly with less tax revenue down the road. Sam's the one who ends up sitting on the floor in this game of financial musical chairs.

"But at least," I said to Gerard, "at least the city is going to get its money from your deal."

He looked at me with pity. "No, Mike. The proceeds of this deal, which I took the time and trouble to organize, all go to me. I plan to spend the money on an island I know where bill-collecting is a capital offense."

"Look, kid," Gerard added, "taxes are for dummies, and the markets only work for the people who know how to play them. And for that insight," he concluded, standing up to leave and offering one more important life lesson, "you're paying for breakfast."



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael Silverstein is a Philadelphia writer who invented the preceding conversation.

He can be reached at mike@wallstreetpoet.com
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Published June 25th
Commentary Page

The Philadelphia Inquirer

The Bell Curve

City Paper's Quality-o-Life-o-Meter

+1 - A South Jersey English teacher starts the site dailyphiladelphian.com, which he hopes will show that Philly fans aren't the worst in the country. Step one: Disable comments.

0 - Joe Sestak calls for pragmatism in government. "I dunno," says Specter. "Switching parties was a pretty pragmatic move, and it didn't enable me to get re-elected."

-7 - Nearly 70,000 Philly children may go hungry because of a lack of enough summer meal programs. "Or, if you adopt my new plan," says Bob Brady, "35,000 children will eat really, really well."

0 - "The problem with Philadelphia is we're never out in front. I would like to be at the forefront of something," says City Councilman Jim Kenney. Well, you did suggest we sue the Internet, guy. That was pretty singular.

+1 - The city's Mural Arts Program updates a painting of nurses at Broad and Vine streets, taking into consideration the future of the field. The new mural shows non-union nurses at Temple University Hospital.

0 - The FBI raids the home of state Sen. Robert J. Mellow. And he's like cool, whatever bro, mi casa su casa.

+6 - It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia shoots a scene with Phillies players Ryan Howard and Chase Utley. And Greg Dobbs. Wild card, bitches!

0 - Mayor Nutter visits Louisiana to brainstorm with other mayors about what to do regarding the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. "Have you thought about closing all of the libraries?" he suggests.

0 - Jackass star Bam Margera denies calling his alleged attacker a racial slur, but admits he called her a "crazy bitch" and an "idiot." And concedes that under other circumstances they could have been really good friends.

0 - Thirty-four high-schoolers graduate from an alternative school program at the Army Experience Center at Franklin Mills. Will celebrate by killing people their own age for money.


This week's total: 1 | Last week's total: -1


More:

Bell Curve Rebutted: We are fucking scumbags.

posted by Patrick Rapa
categories Readers Write, Web Junk
In Bell Curve, City Paper printed this item:

"0 - Thirty-four high-schoolers graduate from an alternative school program at the Army Experience Center at Franklin Mills. Will celebrate by killing people their own age for money."

Which pissed off one reader, who left us this NSFW voicemail.

Presented without comment.

Street Review

WHITE PEOPLE DON'T CRY! I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN GIVEN A HARD TIME OVER THE PAST FEW HUN-DRED YEARS ABOUT EVERYTHING FROM SLAVERY RIGHT ON DOWN TO THE INACCURACY OF YOUR DOPPLER RADAR, BUT MOTHERFUCKERS DON'T SEEM TO KNOW HOW HARD IT IS RUNNING A PLANET. IT'S NOT LIKE PLANTING A SEED AND WATERING THAT BITCH AND BOOM, YOU HAVE NICE FERNS. NO. BEING THE C.E.O. OF EARTH TAKES A LOT OF HARD ASS, THANKLESS WORK, AND HOLDING THE TORCH OF CIVILIZA-TION MAKES A MAN'S HAND HOT. WHITE PEOPLE, YOU GAVE DENIM TO THE WORLD, AND NO ONE THANKED YOU! YOU GAVE CONCRETE ROADS TO THE WORLD AND NO ONE THANKED YOU! YOU GAVE THE COMIC GENIUS OF RAYMOND ROMANO TO THE WORLD AND NO ONE THANKED YOU! YOU TURNED MANHATTAN ISLAND INTO THE CULTURAL CAPITAL OF THE PLANET WHERE AS IF THE INJUNS STILL HAD IT, THEY'D PROBABLY STILL BE SHITTING IN BUSHES, TALKING TO THEIR DEAD ANCESTORS AROUND A BONFIRE, AND HAVING SEX WITH HORSES. SO ON BEHALF OF ALL PEOPLE OF A DARKER HUE, I WISH TO THANK YOU, WHITE PEOPLE, FOR DOWNLOADABLE PORNOGRAPHY [WHO NEEDS A GIRLFRIEND], NANOTECHNOLOGY [WHEN CAN A NIGGA GET A ROBOT HAND?], THE HUBBLE SPACE TELESCOPE [AIM IT TOWARDS EARTH AND IT'S ALSO GOOD FOR ESPIONAGE] AND AIDS [C'MON WHITE POEPLE, IT'S NO SECRET THAT AIDS WAS INVENTED IN JOINT EFFORT BY BILL GATES, YACUB THE EVIL SCIENTIST, AND HITLER'S DISEMBODIED BRAIN THAT ISSUES ITS COMMANDS VIA A FIREWIRE CABLE HOOKED UP TO A MAC-BOOK PRO, USING THAT PROGRAM THAT READS WORD DOCUMENTS IN THAT ANDROGYNOUS ROBOT VOICE THAT NOBODY CAN TAKE SERI-OUSLY, SO BILL GATES IS ALWAYS LIKE, "HEY HITLER, WHAT WAS THAT THING YOU WERE SAYING ABOUT THE JEWS, ABOUT HOW THEY'RE RUIN-ING EVERYTHING, COULD YOU EXPLAIN THAT STUFF AGAIN?" SO HITLER STARTS TO EXPLICATE HIS IDEAS ABOUT THE JEWISH CONSPIRACY IN THAT FUNNY ROBOT VOICE AND BILL GATES AND YACUB START CRACK-ING UP, BUT HITLER DOESN'T GET WHAT'S SO FUNNY.] BUT I DIGRESS...

GOT ANY COCAINE?



published in machete
Vol. 1, no 7, April 2010

Record Reviews

Before The Drugs Wore Off (D-G)

Donovan

Sunshine Superman

Heavy mellow from the original wizard of English hippie whimsy.


The Doobie Brothers

The Captain and Me

The name of the band says it all.


The Doors

The Doors
Strange Days
Waiting for the Sun

All the Doors' records could stand as artifacts of the rock-and-drugs epoch, but their first three, with "Light My Fire," "People Are Strange," and "Not to Touch the Earth," are quintessential psychedelia as well as the living legacy of the late great Mr. Mojo Risin'.


Bob Dylan

Bring It All Back Home
Highway 61 Revisited
Blonde on Blonde

The former Robert Zimmerman wired on speed, chilling on weed, and making history. Everybody must get stoned.


The Eagles

The Eagles
Hotel California

Blue-jeaned longhairs hit the big time, trading mushrooms and a lid of homegrown for premium flake - the rise and fall of the West Coast counterculture is told herein.


Emerson, Lake and Palmer

Brain Salad Surgery

Impenetrable progressive rock for university dorms well past curfew. The cover by H.R. Giger complements the classical-surreal dimensions.


Fleetwood Mac

Rumours

The Big One. A landmark, multiplatinum document of relationships, self-awareness, and coke-boosted sophistication. Smooth as a mirror and gleaming like a silver spoon.


Funkadelic

Funkadelic

Deadly stoner R&B, like Jimi Hendrix in slow motion. What is soul? Soul is a joint rolled in toilet paper. Mommy, what's a Funkadelic? Eddie Hazel's guitar.


The Grateful Dead

Workingman's Dead
American Beauty
Live Dead

The ex-Warlocks were synonymous with drugged-out rock music and musicians throughout their history, and their long strange trip is perhaps best depicted by these discs, although many will contend the band's real impact was made not in the studio but on stage. Marin County bluegrass that's vibrant like a new batch of Owsley, and sweeter than Cherry Garcia. Live Dead was mixed with the players taking hits of nitrous oxide at the studio console.


To Be Continued...


Reviews by George Case
From his book Out of Our Heads
published by Backbeat Books, 2010

$4.99

Philadelphia Phillies Topps MLB Factory Baseball Cards Team Set (17 Cards)





Purchased this sweet package early last week at Wawa while buying a pack of cigarettes, cup of coffee, & newspapers.







2010 Breakdown Stat:

When scoring 4 runs or more, Phillies Win/Loss record is 28-5

When scoring 3 runs or less, Phillies Win/Loss record is 8-27

Correspondence

Before he was a noted author, Kurt Vonnegut was a POW in Nazi Germany.

The following is a letter from those years, dated May 29, 1945, published in the book "Armageddon in Retrospect," a collection of writings on war and peace by the late author (edited by his son - Mark Vonnegut).


PFC. K. VONNEGUT, JR. 12102964 U.S. ARMY
TO: Kurt Vonnegut, Williams Creek Indianapolis, Indiana

Dear People:
I'm told that you were probably never informed that I was anything other than "missing in action." Chances are that you also failed to receive any of the letters I wrote from Germany. That leaves me a lot of explaining to do—in précis:

I've been a prisoner of war since December 19th, 1944, when our division was cut to ribbons by Hitler's last desperate thrust though Luxembourg and Belgium. Seven Fanatical Panzer Divisions hit us and cut us off from the rest of Hodges' First Army. The other American Divisions on our flanks managed to pull out: We were obliged to stay and fight. Bayonets aren't much good against tanks: Our ammunition, food and medical supplies gave out and our casualties out-numbered those who could still fight—so we gave up. The 106th got a Presidential Citation and some British Decoration from Montgomery for it, I'm told, but I'll be damned if it was worth it. I was one of the few who weren't wounded. For that much thank God.

Well, the supermen marched us, without food, water or sleep to Limberg, a distance of about sixty miles, I think, where we were loaded and locked up, sixty men to each small, unventilated, unheated box car. There were no sanitary accommodations—the floors were covered with cow dung. There wasn't room for all of us to lie down. Half slept while the other half stood. We spent several days, including Christmas, on that Limberg siding. On Christmas eve the Royal Air Force bombed and strafed our unmarked train. They killed about one-hundred-and-fifty of us. We got a little water Christmas Day and moved slowly across Germany to a large P.O.W. Camp in Muhlburg, South of Berlin. We were released from the box cars on New Year's Day. The Germans herded us through scalding delousing showers. Many men died from shock in the showers after ten days of starvation, thirst and exposure. But I didn't.

Under the Geneva Convention, Officers and Non-commissioned Officers are not obliged to work when taken prisoner. I am, as you know, a Private. One-hundred-and-fifty such minor beings were shipped to a Dresden work camp on January 10th. I was their leader by virtue of the little German I spoke. It was our misfortune to have sadistic and fanatical guards. We were refused medical attention and clothing: We were given long hours at extremely hard labor. Our food ration was two-hundred-and-fifty grams of black bread and one pint of unseasoned potato soup each day. After desperately trying to improve our situation for two months and having been met with bland smiles I told the guards just what I was going to do to them when the Russians came. They beat me up a little. I was fired as group leader. Beatings were very small time—one boy starved to death and the SS Troops shot two for stealing food.

On about February 14th the Americans came over, followed by the R.A.F. Their combined labors killed 250,000 people in twenty-four hours and destroyed all of Dresden—possibly the world's most beautiful city. But not me.

After that we were put to work carrying corpses from Air-Raid shelters; women, children, old men; dead from concussion, fire or suffocation. Civilians cursed us and threw rocks as we carried bodies to huge funeral pyres in the city.

When General Patton took Leipzig we were evacuated on foot to Hellexisdorf on the Saxony-Czechoslovakian border. There we remained until the war ended. Our guards deserted us. On that happy day the Russians were intent on mopping up isolated outlaw resistance in our sector. Their planes (P39's) strafed and bombed us, killing fourteen. But not me.

Eight of us stole a team and wagon. We traveled and looted our way through Sudetendland and Saxony for eight days, living like kings. The Russians are crazy about Americans. The Russians picked us up in Dresden. We rode from there to the American lines at Halle in Land-Lease Ford trucks. We've since flown to the Le Havre.

I'm writing from a Red Cross Club in Le Havre P.O.W. Repatriation Camp. I'm being wonderfully well fed and entertained. The state-bound ships [are] jammed, naturally, so I'll have to be patient. I hope I'm home in a month. Once home I'll be given twenty-one days recuperation at Atterbury, about $600 back pay and—get this—sixty days (60) furlough!

I've too damned much to say, the rest will have to wait. I can't receive mail here so don't write. May 29, 1945

Love, Kurt – Jr.



Reprinted by arrangement with G.P. Putnam’s Sons, a member of Penguin Group (U.S.A.), Inc., from “Armageddon in Retrospect,” by Kurt Vonnegut, copyright 2008 by the Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. Trust.

© 2008


via Newsweek.com

Art Museum free on Saturday

In honor of Anne d'Harnoncourt.

Admission to the Philadelphia Museum of Art will be free on Saturday in honor of director Anne d'Harnoncourt, who died June 1, 2008.

The museum will be open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. (The new timed-ticket "Late Renoir" exhibition is not included with free admission.)

"Anne d'Harnoncourt, my predecessor, passed away two years ago this month," said Timothy Rub, the museum's director and chief executive. "To honor her memory and all that she did for this institution and the community it serves, we encourage our visitors to come and discover the collections."

D'Harnoncourt began her career at the museum as a curatorial assistant in the department of painting and sculpture in 1967. She served as director beginning in 1982, and as both director and chief executive officer of the museum from 1997 until her death.


-- By Stephan Salisbury (Inquirer Culture Writer)