CCJ Escapee: The Story Thus Far + Local Media Commentary

If you're here for just the story and not the commentary, scroll down to the big orange OK. Otherwise, some commentary:

Well well well. It looks like, apart from WQYX/WCPA (who originally reported the story locally over the air but not online) and WOKW (who first reported the inmate's capture), everybody's late to the party. Boy, it's a good thing SOMEONE was covering this story as it unfolded! Because then everyone would have to wait for these lame fuckers to get with the program and tell them what's going on.

From WJAC 6 in Johnstown, PA - who hadn't even heard this story until I called them - comes this little blurb on their website, including some of their news video. Yesterday, it was reported that WJAC's crew on the scene was pissing authorities off by not remaining in the designated press staging area. We figure that, since they were late to the game, they were trying to play catch-up by bending the rules and trying for a scoop. They're reporting that Rodriguez was injured but able to walk to the ambulance, which conflicts with my reports of Rodriguez's legs being barely able to bend correctly, let alone carry him up a hill. They also give the new location of Lecontes Mills, where the police began chasing him towards his fate on 879.

WTAJ 10 out of Altoona, PA has an article on their big advertising behemoth of a shit-tastic website, confirming that Rodriguez is, in fact, from Buffalo, NY (which would explain the big influx of traffic to my site from that area via Google searches), and reports that the time of capture as 10:30am. WTAJ was aware of the story when I called, and had dispatched reporter Danielle Kraut to the scene, who filed reports via phone on last evening's newscast.

Also on deck is the "blog" (another Blogger account, no less) of a so-called News Radio station, WESB 1490AM out of Bradford, PA (greetings to my friends there). Hahaha. Like WTAJ, they have a main Website that's totally ad-saturated, and doesn't have much content of interest at all.

One of my Twitter rivals, the Centre Daily Times (news rag out of State College, PA), has pretty much been silent on the whole story. That's some fine reporting there, Lou. Not one single tweet of theirs had anything to do with this story: They were more concerned about the tragic accidental death of a Penn State student (alcohol was a factor) and more bullshit Homeland Security nonsense about those ever-so-scary turr'sts.

(Note: I am in no way trying to marginalize the tragedy befalling Joseph Dado. It is a sad story indeed, and my sympathies are with his family and friends.)

What's the point of all this ranting? To illustrate the absolute and utter failure of the local news media - including affiliates from all the major networks - to inform the people in a timely manner. They failed to take advantage of the technology they obviously spend lots of money on, just to make look nice and generate ad revenue, apparently. They failed to use the Internet - the ultimate 24 hour, up-to-the-nanosecond communications tool - to inform people of updates. Instead, rumor and hearsay most likely dominated the conversations of people not looking to THIS FUCKING STUPID BLOG for their information.

How the hell did one kid, whom quite a number of people think of as innocuous and somewhat incapable of much, beat the absolute snot out of you when it came to coverage? That's a question I'd like answered, really. Why is it that you all have so much money and so many resources, yet one guy with a few friends and tools available cheaply to the common citizen beat you to the punch and DID YOUR JOB FOR YOU?!? Today, the local news media - if they can be called that, receives a big fat red F- for their absolute FAIL at keeping residents informed of what was obviously a very dangerous situation. You people should just resign and let a whole new team in now. Shame on you.

~*~

OK, here we go, piecing together the whole story from start to finish. The source for this info is by way of both PSP and Lawrence Township police departments:

Around 2pm yesterday, Michael Rodriguez escaped Clearfield County Jail (CCJ) by crawling under the frist yard fence, then climbing over the second. After a brief run-around, he stole the truck you saw in the previous photos from Megan and Missy, from some New York area workers who were running into a Cogos for a second, leaving their keys in the truck and allowing Rodriguez to nab it.

At some point, Rodriguez contacted a girlfriend he had in the DuBois area and was trying to get to her place. Unbeknowest to him, she was on the horn with PSP, telling them where he was and what his intentions were.

PSP and LTPD set up a roadblack with spike strips along the Shawville-Croft Highway, or State Route 879, north of Clearfield in front of the home of Sean Owens. Owens stated that you could hear the truck coming up the highway, and he had to have been doing at least 120. He hit the spike strips, lost control, and crashed at the turn shown in the photos Missy sent.

Due to the crash, Rodriguez is reported to have broken both of his legs (reports have also stated ankles). Despite this, PSP and LTPD forcibly removed him from the vehicle, slammed his face onto the ground, and someone put a boot on his neck while he was down. After this, despite the broken legs, police forced him to walk up the hill, where he was later airlifted to an unknown hospital.

Police are still searching the area along the chase route for a reported firearm, as well as impounding and searching the truck that Rodriguez stole.

Crazy, eh? A wee bit of police brutality? I think so! Even though this guy was clearly a dangerous and incredibly stupid individual, having two broken legs after a roadblock crash will certainly diminish your ability to do any sort of fighting back, thus eliminating the need for excessive force.

If these reports are true, PSP and LTPD - as well as any other agencies involved - could be in some serious trouble. Stay tuned. As I learn more, I'll be sure to post it here for all of you.

The Great Escape

I know I'm ruffling a lot of feathers with all of my Atheist talk lately. Oh well. It's something I know about, seeing as how I am one and all. And it's something I'm very passionate about - hey, that'd make me an Atheism Geek! Awesome!

But I figured, why not go back into my past again and reveal some more of my early experiences as a young Atheist. Here's the general idea:

1986 (Age 6) - The things I was taught in Sunday School conflicted with what I knew of reality and, yes, morality. The 10 Commandments state that thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, or commit adultry. Yet God obviously did both when he knocked Mary up. It was at this point that I first questioned the things that were being taught to me as 'fact,' and would soon make up my mind that it was all Mother Goose bullshit.

1987 (Age 7) - I begin to tell my parents that I don't want to go to church anymore. They told me that I was obligated to go until I was "a confirmed member of the church." In the Lutheran denomination, this follows similar to a Mitzva in the Hebrew culture: At age 13, the church recognizes a man or woman as an adult in their eyes. "When you're a confirmed member," they told me, "you can do whatever you want."

FAIL. They thought I wouldn't remember. They were horribly wrong.

From this point on, I played the waiting game, but not without having some fun. I began to openly question my 'teachers' as to the holes I found in their faith, much to their discomfort and, in some cases, anger. Hell, one of my youth leaders actually grabbed me by the scruff of my neck once, all because I was having fun putting sandwiches together for a fundraiser we had done. In front of my mom, no less! Joke's on them, they were run out of the church and pretty much never came back. Good riddance, honestly. Nazis...

When I finally turned 13, I dove into confirmation class with reckless abandon, determined to do anything I could to make sure that my confirmation came without a hitch, and as soon as possible. A transition in pastors for the church helped this along: The new pastor pretty much told me that, classes or not, she was going to confirm me. When I explained to her why I wanted to be confirmed so badly, she hesitated, but ultimately agreed that I needed to follow my own path. And so, from that night onward, all I did was wait again.

The day of my confirmation was actually more of a day of affirmation: I went through the ceremony, making everyone uncomfortable by refusing to say any of the mindless babble referring to asking God to help me, praising God, or anything other rubbish along those lines. And when my certificate was handed to me, I did what I had planned to do for six long years:

I turned around, said "It's been fun, everyone, but I'm of here," and walked out of the church, never to again return and watch people be crazy about some magic sky pixie. As I stepped out of the main worship hall and into the narthex to make my way to the front door, I mumbled under my breath "Fuck this shit." I don't know if anyone heard me, but I hope they did.

And that, my friends, is how I escaped the throes of the virus known as organized religion. My parents, who'd made a deal with me that they thought I would NEVER remember, found out that day that their son was not playing around when he said he no longer believed.

Newt Sensation

Call it NewtFAIL.

Former Speaker of the House and still-obnoxious pundit Newt Gingrich (@newtgingrich), is all butt-hurt over the fact that Twitter allows people to tag his name onto things he doesn't like. Now, because he feels that he was duped into agreeing to an EULA that he claims didn't mention that this could happen (even though, by its nature, its a natural and obvious function of Twitter), he and his pundit buddy Saul Anuzis (@sanuzis) - who himself sounds like an evil Bizarro Egyptian High Priest - are threatening to sue (FT).

Somebody call the WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAmbulance, and make sure they bring enough manpower to cart Newt's fat ass to the Whine-ery.

Newt, you fucking twat: You should KNOW BY NOW how Twitter works, seeing as how you love it so much. It's Twitter, not rocket science! Any idiot can plainly see how Twitter functions, crystal clear as a cloudless blue sky, just by looking at their preferred Twitter client. FAIL.

And now, to help further Newt's ire and angst, I present to you a handy batch of "canned" tweets for you all to post on Twitter, thus further angering him and making him do many more silly things that Republicans do when they don't get their way. They also include the #efca hash tag, just because the EFCA ticks Newt off even more. Just copy and paste into your favorite Tweeting interface! First off, a suggestion by Wonkette:

Join @newtgingrich for Nazi-themed gay child rape party @ his mom’s house

And now, some from my earlier escapades:

Breaking News: @newtgingrich announces "Specter is my Homeboy," will switch parties after his 5 o'clock colonic. #efca

I totally caught @sanuzis and @newtgingrich snogging at FOX News. Talk about ewwwwwwwww... #efca

Hey! @newtgingrich wants to sue Twitter! @newtgingrich is also the top supporter of gay marriage! @newtgingrich even likes Jon Stewart! #efca

Dd you know that @newtgingrich loves Stem Cell Research? @newtgingrich is also a staunch environmentalist! #efca

And @newtgingrich thinks GWB is a retarded cowboy! @newtgingrich supports all of the Obama administration's policies, too!

Yeah, that'll do quite nicely. Now, let's show Newt what real Americans can do when they organize!

Karaoke Contest 2: Electric Boogaloo

So yeah. Remember last year, when I got ripped off by a single judge because I wasn't female?

This year, not so much.

The first semifinal of the 2nd annual Karaoke Contest at the Moshannon Valley Super Bowl was last night. And wouldn't you know it, both of last year's winners - Autumn and Mike - were competing alongside me for the coveted three spots in the finals (the other three will be decided this coming Friday).

And in a not-so-stunning non-upset, BOTH WENT HOME.

That's right: I made it, they didn't. Or to be more specific:

AUTUMN WENT HOME.

That's called Karma. Autumn, while talented, did NOT best me either night. The first time, she got lucky because one judge wanted a female to go on to New York. This time, Autumn didn't have that safety net. She was judged on what she was supposed to be judged on (unlike last time), and she got the final answer: Sorry, honey. You're just not good enough to beat me in a fair fight.

Your decision to compete last night sealed your fate: There were way too many talented people in the field for you to even think you'd have a chance. Honestly, you would have fared better had you waited til next week. That's what Tim did: He took one look at the field for this week and said "Holy crap, not good, I gotta change up."

I have a feeling that's why Tim - who has been a most awesome friend of mine since way back in elementary school - will be joining me in the finals. I know I'm going to cheer him on this coming Friday.

And what the hell were you thinking?!? Jill had already sang "What's Up," and I might add, she did it a hell of alot better than you did! That decision right there only added an extra nail to the coffin. You sounded like a copycat: Especially given how many times you went up to Rhett's table to (apparently) consider a replacement song (three by my count)!

I can blame my apparent failure last year on a judge. This year, you can only blame your failure on yourself.

Me? I came in third last night, so I have some work to do. I wasn't expecting this Michelle girl to come out of nowhere and dominate the evening! And I had declared Tim's friend Barb a dark hourse after her warm-up performance, and I was right - she came in second! Congrats to both ladies on fine performances!

See? I'm not a conceited douchenozzel, am I!

But seriously: I've got my work cut out for me for next week. A straight performance simply won't be enough. Last night's two-for of power ("Fat Bottomed Girls" and "Come Sail Away") was good, and I had a ton of fun doing it, but it lacked something. I think I know what that something is, and I think I know how to correct it. So, for the next 14 days, it's practice time.

Meanwhile, I present the table's general concensus on what you have to do next time:

1) Branch out. Find some new songs. I have yet to do a single song I've done in this competition twice, and that includes songs I did last year. A good variety is the spice of life! Don't stay in your comfort zone, grow a pair and try new songs.

2) Ditch Homie. That advice goes for the rest of $9 Porno as well: You guys are awesome musically, but you need a new singer. Seriously.

3) Don't Copy. Also, don't do "Rapper's Delight." As we discovered last night, that song is tantamount to Contest Suicide.

4) RickRoll the crowd. I did, and from that moment on, I had lots of fun. Fun, in the end, is what it's all about.

OK, it's about fun, but its also about the difference between $500 cash money and a $100 gift certificate to the bowling alley. Daddy needs a new XBox 360, so Daddy wants cold hard Benjamins. All five of 'em...

90% Chance of FAIL

New Years Resolutions.

The lists that people come up with, filled with changes they'd like to make about themselves and their lives. Lists that are quickly forgotten in the return to normal following the holiday euphoria, and thus are rarely ever followed.

Yeah, I have a few of those myself, but I think I might be able to keep some of them. Here's just a few:

1. Blog more. Shouldn't be a problem, right? Right. Plenty for me to talk about...
2. Get the band started. Fred, Andy and I spent all of 2007 talking, but not doing, anything about it. With the holidays out of the way, we can finally focus on breaking out the four track and trying our hands at songwriting in genres other than what we're used to.
3. Drink less caffine. No problem. Stomach ulcer says that's how it has to be, and I don't like that kind of pain, so goodbye sodas and energy drinks.
4. Cut back on smoking. Notice, I didn't say quit. I have noticed, however, that I'm starting to smoke more than the usual pack a day, so I've decided to try and cut back some. Probably one I'll fail at, but it's worth a shot.
5. Make it to Tom and Gina's wedding. Florida, June 7th, and I've got to figure out a way to get us all down there, housed, and back. Should prove to be a fun logistical challenge.

So, how about all of you? What were your resolutions? Come on, don't be shy, there's a whole comment box for you to play with...

...Lies The Key To Imagination

It's Redneck Hospital 2: Electric Boogaloo.

You know, the ignorance of Rednecks never ceases to stop amazing the crap out of me. That's just a given anymore. I mean, these people are oblivious to the fact that they singlehandedly keep the human race needlessly tethered to lifestyles and ideals that went out with the dawn of the airplane.

All too often, stupidity is tied to that ignorance. Take, for example, the devout NASCAR fan I ran into this morning at the doctors' office. How did I know he was a NASCAR fan, not to mention a devout one? The jacket said it all, and said it loudly. Not only was the NASCAR logo plastered all over the bloody thing, but it's once-bright blue color was stained to high heaven with what could only be several different kinds of natural and synthetic industrial and automotive lubricants.

The mullet didn't hurt my deduction, either.

At any rate, we were behind this older couple, waiting to check the Bear in for his follow-up. Off to our left, looking obviously impatient and worried, stood Captain Stock Car, a hillbilly of about 45 years of age, looking more like 55 after years of Church and Go Fast, Turn Left action on Sundays and raising some rowdy kin-folk.

Well, the old couple taking a bit I can understand. Let's face it: they're old. If they do anything fast anymore, it's pretty much a medical miracle. You can't fault them for their age, nor the fact that they're living in an era that's way ahead of them in terms of social speed. But Captain Stock Car was looking like he was desperate to cut in front of us, even though we had what was obviously a slightly-under-the-weather 11 month old with us.

So, when the old folks were done, he asked us if he could cut in line real quick. His all-important question, the one that forced him to cut in front of a sick child?

Could he use one of the dozen or so wheelchairs sitting in the lobby - which are there for patients to take and use if they need to as soon as they arrive in the building - for his mother.

Idiot thought he needed permission. Yeah, in a place where people are sick and time is of the essence, you have to throw a wrench in the works to ask if your sick mother can use a wheelchair that they put there for people like your sick mother to use without having to ask.

Seriously. They let these people have kids? If the blazingly obvious passes you by completely and you don't even feel the breeze, you need to seriously rethink your situation.

Sure, it was only a hold-up of about 15 seconds, and the Bear wasn't in any dire need of medical care (it was just a follow-up to his ER visit on 500 Years of BS and Turkey Day), but come on! If you'd come down out of the hills every so often and see what civilized people are doing with their newfangled advancements, maybe you'd know things like medical centers put wheelchairs by the entrance for patients who need (or feel they need) them.

What a modern concept that is. Go home and watch Speed Network, hillbilly. FAIL.