Despite the apparent uptick in the economy, there's been no change for your humble servant.

Yes, the Wall Street Journal claims that there was a 0.5% increase in Black Friday sales. But not for me.

After my last post, I began thinking about the importance of the internet. I rarely leave the Plasticave without first stealing the neighbor's wifi surfing around.

For example, as I travel around Oregon, I use Wikipedia to research some of the areas I visit to surveil suspects.

Once, while undercover, I tailed a criminal from the bustling metropolis of Greenhorn to Portland's urban Mills End Park. According to Wikipedia, mayor Frances Villwock wields the gavel over Greenhorn's population of two. And while Mills End Park's 452 square inches did not make surveillance a challenge, it was good to be prepared.

Craigslist has become an invaluable resource. Plastigirl and I met when I saved her from some dastardly deeds and she was immediately attracted to my bulging muscles. However, if you are looking to make a romantic connection, you may want to be direct and place an ad like this young, Asheville man who advertised  "Take advantage of my new lower standards."

Need some furniture? Where else can you pick up a chair that Ralph Nader possibly sat in?

You can also be entrepreneurial and advertise such services as dead body burials in your back yard.

Amazon is a great resource because of the many user reviews. Being a man of science, I recently needed to purchase Gupta's Chemical Shifts and Coupling Constants for Silicon-29. But before I spent the $7,600 (ships for free with Super Saver Shipping), I decided to read the reviews on Amazon first. I'm glad I did because it confirmed all of the good things I'd been hearing about it.

I was indecisive about what type of pens to buy. I finally went with Bic because of the four star Amazon review here.

Of course, the GM of the internet era, Google, is ever so helpful. Don't speak English? That's OK, because Google's homepage is available in dozens of languages including Klingon.

If you are feeling lost, looking for the meaning of life, try searching Google for the "answer to life, the universe and everything." You'll find it.

Finally, direct your browse on over to the last page of the internet: www.wwwdotcom.com

In a previous post, I advocated for changing the official language of the State of Oregon to Pirate. Some may have believed that I, in fact, was advocating piracy. However, I am nothing, if not a tireless crusader for justice and property rights.

Piracy is a dangerous business. If you are a pirate you risk getting your Xbox banned by Microsoft, you might get some really nasty tweets by the Zombieland director, or - perhaps worst of all, you might have to dance for a money-troubled Nicholas Cage in a Somali jail.

Thankfully,  your government is looking out for you!

ComputerWorld has an article about the Anti-Counterfeiting Trade Agreement (ACTA) which is currently being negotiated among several future signatories, including: Australia, Canada, the European Community, South Korea, Singapore and the United States.  This treaty will radically change how intellectual property is treated in its member states according to leaked documents analyzed by the Electronic Frontier Foundation.

Though the terms are still murky, you will soon have help to avoid piracy in several ways.

First, border agents will be allowed to search your ipod, cell phone and laptop, confiscating and destroying them should they find illegally ripped and downloaded music or video. I know, this will help me rid my many devices of pirate music. I can never remember which music on my ipod I actually own and which is from cd's  I checked out at the library.

Other provisions discussed include required filtering by your Internet Service Provider (ISP) and mandatory termination of your internet if you are accused (not convicted) of piracy. Three strikes and you are off the internet. Need to pay your bills online? File your taxes? Read the news? Sorry, because the recording industry has accused you of downloading Lady Gaga.

The precise terms of the treaty are still being worked out. You can breathe easy, piracy is on its way out.

To supplement my crimefighting income, I placed an ad on Craigslist offering my services as a personal, academic tutor. My Ph. D. enables me to give lessons in a variety of subjects.

The results have not been fruitful. It seems that either the people of the state of Oregon have no need for academic growth or cannot afford my meager fee. However, the ad has attracted a fair number of scam artists.

Below I have transcribed the interchange of e-mails between yours truly and Austine, one such scam artist. I attempted to trace his IP address but Austine was able to cover his tracks.

I have edited these emails only where absolutely necessary to achieve clarity. Believe me, I couldn't make this stuff up.

Subject: PRAVITE LESSON
Hello,
I am Austine by name,i want to make an enquiry for my son who is coming for the (LESSONS)in order to develop skills,His name is Johnson,13 years.I want him to be busy in holiday.
I have decided to let him attend your lesson for 1 hours in a day-very day or time that you will be chance.i want you to calculate the cost of 1 hours each day for Mon,Wed & Fri for the whole 1 Month and send me the total cost,i will be paying you with Certified check ,so get back to me with your cost. I have nanny always drive him down to your house or lesson venue. Kindly get back to me with
(1).YOUR CHARGE FOR 1 HOUR.
(2).TOTAL CHARGES FOR 1 MONTH THAT HE WILL BE TAUGHT
(3).TIMES PER WEEK.3. FULL NAME AND ADDRESS WITH ZIPCODE.
(4.)YOUR PHONE NUMBER.Don't hesitate to e-mail with your total charges.
Thanks and looking to read from you soon.
With Best Regards.
Austine .

Hello.
  Thanks for the mail. Well the price is okey by me. Do email me with your full name,addres and tell phone. I ll like my son t start the lesson by next 2 week. Hope to read m you.
Thanks

I've been down on Twitter, lately.

I thought Twitter had potential to be a tool for good. The governor could beam me an @reply into the cold, stormy, Oregon sky, calling me when the state was in trouble. A damsel in distress could DM me and I would come running. My legions of fans would RT my tweets. The twitterati would bit.ly my URL's.

Alas, it has not come to pass. Forty percent of tweets are, in fact, pure drivel.

Most people don't even tweet more than a once - ever. The good news is, if you were hoodwinked into following some of these losers - as I have been, you can use unTweeps.com to find out who they are and unfollow them.

@APlusK, AKA Ashton Kutcher, is approaching four million followers. His wifey, @mrskutcher, is forever ensconced in our collectively tweeted memory in her bikini.

Fame and fortune can come to us lesser folk, too. @shitmydadsays just inked a TV deal.

No TV deal for @plasticgraduate. I'm still trying to get up to 80 followers including pornbots.

My lowly status as the 515,914th twitterer is only slightly ameliorated by my Number One status here at the Plasticave. Luckily, Plastigirl isn't tweeting, yet.

Back to toiling in obscurity...

It's been a busy week here at the Plasticave.

I've found it necessary to be in two places at the same time. After much googling, science gave me the answer.

As you may know, work on the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) was stymied by a baguette. I thought it could be Al Qaeda again, or a terrorist pigeon. But upon further investigation, a more interesting theory formed. Could this be the work of some future particle?

Earlier, two researchers hypothesized that the LHC's problems are caused by its future, that the subject of the current research, the Higgs boson, is so terrible, it comes back from the future to avoid being discovered.

Now, I am no quantum mechanic. However, as I mentioned in a previous post, I keep up with various institutions, including Interpol, The American Journal of Paranormal Sciences and the Cryptozoology Museum. I have a Ph.D. from a University in the Carribean and I have an evil, maniacal laugh.

But these articles are a difficult slog.

So instead of reading them all the way through, I decided to read Flash Forward, by Robert Sawyer, a book about the collider, in which the LHC experiment causes people to lose consciousness and see years into their future.

But the book was kind of long, so I instead I began watching the TV show on Hulu. People only see six months into the future on the show so I figured I didn't have long to wait to find out.

But, why wait? Instead, I just told my future self to watch the DVDs of the TV show, and that way, when the LHC begins operation in December and if I really do see my future, I'll already know the end.

Right?

Lately, I've been reading my good friend, Hari Batti's, blog. Even though I'm not convinced about this global warming thing, I do believe in fashion. So, I have decided to try environmentalism.

I began doing a little research and it seems that vegetarians have a smaller carbon footprint than us omnivores. But, one of my few respites from crimefighting are the summer barbecues with the plastifamily. I don't think grilling eggplant and zucchini on a hibachi would prove my manliness and virility in this dog-eat-dog world.

That got me thinking about Pete, my faithful Bull Terrier, who travels with me everywhere. A benefit of living in Oregon is that dogs are loved by all and allowed in every establishment. Now, if you are a chardonnay-sipping elitist who reads the New York Times you wouldn't understand our love for man's best friend.

But in the name of environmentalism, I think it's time to re-evaluate Pete's existence.

First, Pete poops a lot. Too much, in fact. Apparently, he's not alone. American dogs and cats excrete 10 million tons of guano each year. (Insert your own "We're Number Two" joke here). Let's face it, the whole composting thing is too much work.

I'm afraid that I only have one option that will meat meet all of my needs: we are going to barbecue Pete.

Now this tact is backed up by science. I just finished reading a new book: Time to Eat the Dog: The real guide to sustainable living. The impact of having a large pet dog is the same as driving a large car. So I've decided to keep the Plastimobile and eat Pete.

Well, maybe I won't start with Pete. First I'll cruise the neighborhood looking for other animals.

Nutritious? I've done my research. Wikipedia lists the nutritional value of dog meat.

After all, I have to make sure I'm eating a balanced diet.

When I read the headline "850 Mostly Blind, Pale Creatures Discovered Underground" I thought perhaps the Oregon Legislators had come trick-or-treating to the Plasticave.

But apparently, it was just an article about some animals or something. It got me thinking, though, that I should start preparing for Halloween. So I began to surf around the internet as I am wont to do looking for ideas.

Even though our only visitor to the Plasticave is Sasqui, we still like to decorate. We drink cider, bob for apples and scare campers away.

First step: get a jack-o-lantern, as I am better with a gun than with a knife, the whole carving of the pumpkin is beyond me, so if I could buy the pumpkin with the face grown into it, that would save me tons of time and the plastikids would be amazed at my technique.

Dear reader,

Your humble, dedicated servant, the plasticgraduate has had the most humiliating experience on a recent flight.

I was called to help a young woman in distress and once again the plastimobile was in the shop. (Note to self: next time when somebody says to buy a car with a horse on it, get a Mustang, not a Pinto.)

So, I took a flight on a reputable airline. As part of my crime monitoring duties, I religiously read the TSA blog and follow the FBI Twitterfeed (Don't be fooled by these hooligans) so I consider myself aware of security and terrorism threats. I dutifully placed all my liquids in little bottles in little ziploc bags. My crimefighting gear was mailed ahead of me and waiting at the hotel. All was good.

I proceeded to the gate and went to go through the security screening. I removed my shoes, put them in a bin and walked through the metal detector. Because of the risk of fungal infection, I applied Purell to my feet after passing through the detector but was pulled for a secondary inspection.

My heart was racing. Had my true identity been discovered? Did they find my cape and tights in my carry-on and have questions?

No, apparently I was pulled for a TSA rectal exam because of the Saudi ass bomber. And, no, for those of you snickering, this was not pleasant.

Back in the day, I could have been arrested for paying for this service.

Now it just feels like the TSA is a cheap date. I literally did this for peanuts. I didn't even get dinner or a movie.

After urging young people to stay in school it was pointed out to me that Oregon is at the forefront of educational reform. It's truly an amazing feat considering that the state ranks 49th in class size.

I was reminded of how our schools are preparing young people for the 21st century when I went to the post office the other day (mail delivery to the Plasticave is spotty, so I opt for a PO Box) and found a notice that there would be shorter hours at my branch. This was all part of USPS modernization and cost reduction efforts because of the 2.8 billion dollar deficit last year.

Now, over in McMinnville, Oregon, they've decided to recreate a post office to teach kids about writing letters and getting mail. Kids can send and receive missives by addressing their letters and placing them in the mail box. This is a revolutionary in an era when people spend 68 hours on the internet every month, including five and a half hours on Facebook.

It's important that young folks learn these skills: mail delivery is clearly a growth industry. The good folks around here are mighty proud that we're teaching some of our youngins to grow up to be postal workers.

Instead of a fake post office, they could have a fake, drug-dealing school bus like they do in Laredo, Texas.

I hope they're teaching these kids about going postal.

Ever since I bought got my Ph.D., people have asked me, "Plasticgraduate, how did you get so smart?"

But it's not intelligence, grasshopper. It's hard work and dedication that made me the incredible person who writes before you.

Whenever I have one of my many motivational speaking engagements at local public schools across this great state (all at a reasonable fee, including per diem), I tell kids, "Stay in school. Do your best! Don't get drunker than your teachers.

But, alas, it pains me to read the news of late and see that some students and teachers are being denied entry to school simply because they want to have guns and defend themselves. Thou shalt carry a firearm: it's called the second commandment, people!

Let's be honest. Schools can be dangerous places and they can be made safer by teaching students weaponry. Recess is full of uncertainty. Six-year olds armed with Swiss Army knives can protect themselves and others from harm and cheaters at kickball.

However, what kind of country do we live in? An unpatriotic 10 year-old can refuse to say the Pledge of Allegiance but can't tell a substitute to "jump off a bridge" without fear of retribution?

The terrorists have already won.

It has been one week since my bottle message to Representative Kevin Cameron (R-19) of the State Legislature to request that Pirate be made an official state language. I have yet to receive a reply. I fear that my hard, thankless work for the state of Oregon is once again unnoticed. Such is the life of a masked crusader.

Below is the e-mail sent to Mr. Cameron. Feel free to e-mail him or his staff. (rep.kevincameron@state.or.us)

Representative Cameron,

As one of the sponsors of HB 2459 during the 2007 Regular Session of the Legislative Assembly, which sought to make English the Official Language of the Great State of Oregon, I am hoping you will sponsor a bill to make Pirate the official language of Oregon. This would honor the history of Oregon pre-Lewis & Clark as well as the diversity which we now have in our state of pirates and non pirates. As you know, September 19, is Talk Like a Pirate Day, be hopin' next voyage we be speakin' as true gentleman o' fortune.

Ahoy, Matey!

the plasticgraduate.

Followers of my travails will recall my search for gainful employment.

Here in the Hard-Case State, we remain stuck at the fourth highest unemployment rate in the nation. Even the Employment Department cannot handle the flood of people, asking citizens not to call on Monday because of problems in their computer system. Perhaps instead of crimefighting I should have studied computer science.

Should you fear that yours truly would be taking a break from his crime stopping activities on October 16 for one of the furlough Fridays that the state has scheduled, never fear - I will not hesitate nor equivocate when it comes to rooting out evil.

Meanwhile, technology has come to the rescue to help folks fight corruption and face down lawlessness. As I mentioned in a previous post, it now appears that, at least when it comes to criminals, Facebook is making us dumber. The crack carabinieri of Italy, arrested a man who checked Facebook during a robbery and left his account open. Hey, but that wasn't the first time. if you were stealing diamond rings, wouldn't you stop to update your status first?

So, dear friends. Need help? Let me know. Comment. E-mail me. Friend me on Facebook. Or, simply write a message on your Facebook wall. I'll come running.

September 19, International Talk Like a Pirate Day, came and went at the Plasticave without much notice. In fact, throughout the great state of Oregon it went largely unnoticed as most people went about their daily life. So when September 30, International Translation Day, came, I knew it was time to expand my linguistic horizons.

Now, as it turns out, my neighbor, Sasqui, was a supporter of the (failed) 2007 HB 2459, which would have made English Oregon's official language, and allowed state government to provide information only in English. Sasqui always says, "If English was good enough for Jesus, it's good enough for me."

But through the magic of Markie Mark Zuckerberg and his Facebooks, we can now exhibit our multilingualism in the privacy of our own homes. Because not only is Facebook now available in languages as exotic as Euskadi, Bosnian and a bunch of languages with curlicues, but also in Esperanto, Latin and Pirate.

I will be contacting one of our lawmakers to get Pirate named as an official state language. I will keep you apprised of the results in a future bottle message.

As you may have read in my previous post, I have fallen on hard times. This has forced me to look for work out of state.

I figured that the with California releasing 40,000 prisoners, surely I could find some freelance work there. So, I loaded up the Plastimobile and I moved to Beverly..Hills, that is. Well, OK, not Beverly Hills, but to a seedy motel off the Sunset Strip. I wanted to be near the action.

But first, I decided to do a little sightseeing. I went to Koreatown, where I saw some very offensive billboards. After that, I realized I had left all of my crimefighting gear back at the Plasticave, so I went to buy some more

at Mr. Stuff. They were out of capes, though, so I was back to Hollywood Boulevard for that.

Finally, I drove over to get some souvenirs for the Plastigirl and the kids at the L.A. Coroner's Office Gift Shop. I spent so much money there, I couldn't afford another night at the motel, so I had to drive straight back to the Plasticave. Oh well, I'm sure the Governator can take care of crime in the Golden State.

Despite all the efforts of the leaders of this great state to attract business, it appears that the beaver state only has the fourteenth best business climate in the country. Apparently, corporate business taxes are far too high. Can you imagine? What to do when businesses pay at least ten dollars a year in taxes? Sprint, Macys and Eli Lilly will surely flee the state if they have to pay more!

This recession has hit all of us hard. My life, as a solitary crimefighter, has been especially difficult. You see, I spend my days monitoring the ground situation and many sleepless nights trolling the streets for the dregs of society so you don't have to. But even drug dealers have fallen upon hard times. Without narcotrafficking, crime goes down and I'm out of a job.

So I may have to turn to product placement on this blog. Perhaps some Google AdWords. Whatever I can to turn a buck.

I've already been approached by a few manufacturers to do product endorsements. I would appreciate some feedback, dear reader, before signing a contract. I know some are a little scatological. But, would you buy any of these products?

• Are you a parolee coming in to do a urine test? Nervous? Toked up a few days ago? Relax, because you're urinating into Petey P. Cup. He's warm and soothing. You can even be his fan on Facebook!
  

• Don't be a scofflaw the next time you take Fido out for a walk! Use the Pootrap and you'll never be caught unprepared.
  

• Cheney and Bush may have allowed waterboarding, but when the plasticgraduate questions subjects he never resorts to "enhanced interrogation techniques." If you enjoyed Gitmo and Abu Ghraib, you'll love our torture trading cards! Collect them all.
  

Regular readers of plasticgraduate.com may notice some older posts being 'reposted.' They had been inadvertently taken down when the domain was changed and over the next few days may be appearing. Please excuse any problems this may cause in your RSS feed.

Excuse the political edge of this post. If you are a liberal you may wish to skip this commentary:

Faithful readers:

Though the plasticgraduate is a law & order kind of guy who believes that natural resources are for the strong and powerful to use as they please, he has friends from across the political spectrum.

Some of these friends also fight for justice, even if it for something as silly as the well-being of the developing world. Screw 'em, I say.

Nevertheless, we take a moment to welcome frequent commenter, Hari Batti, to the blogosphere with his Green Light Dhaba. Hari fights for environmental & social justice on the Indian subcontinent. See what the daily special is.

I recently stepped away from the computer to get a quick snack and take a bathroom break. When I got back to my workstation, I had received a pop-up on one of the many monitors I have alerting me about how to deal with my internet addiction.

Of course, the plasticgraduate really has no such problem. While there are 87 million Americans who are stuck on the Facebook for hours and hours,  I much prefer the old fashioned string and tin cans. Since the Bush administration, though, illegal wire tapping and string tapping have been rampant. One can never be too careful, which is why I'm considering canceling my string service and Comcast and sending all of my data via carrier pigeon. That way my data should be safe from the authorites, unless the pigeon is suspected of terrorism. In which case I will have to hand deliver this blog to your door.

While, I am the plasticgraduate, not the grammar girl, no - that is not a typo.

The moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter is aligned with Mars. Yesterday was 9/9/9. The plasticgraduate does not believe in numerology and there is a conspiracy to keep the truth about this date from the public.

While mainstream media outlets pique our interest, but ultimately insist that there is nothing special about the day, the blogosphere has sought to focus on one of the more pernicious problems which has infested the Internet since its inception: cats, many of them feral, many of them not.

You may have noticed relatively few cats on the internet yesterday. The folks at Urlesque declared it was a day without cats. The fourth estate immediately jumped on the bandwagon. Time, NPR, and many, many blogs did the same - drawing our collective attention away from the momentous occasion of 9/9/9. And when a gathering was to take place as the clock struck 9:09:09 that celestial evening, representative Joe Wilson yelled "liar" in the middle of President Obama's Speech on Healthcare.

His chief of staff has issued a press release stating that Mr. Wilson was not referring to the President, he was yelling at his neighbor who claimed that cats can't really play piano.

My wish: 10/10/10 - a day without Comcast.

Fact: 57% of all Oregonians were born in a state other than Oregon.*

Fact: 28% of all Oregonians believe themselves to be "environmentally aware."*

Fact: All Oregonians own a pair of Khakis and a Kleen Kanteen.*

(*I was actually too lazy to look up any of this and made it all up.)

You may think that this is the most boring blog, but you would be wrong.

Many of you have speculated on the exact location of the Plasticave, from which, lonejustice is written. Well, I assure you that it is not in Boring. The Plasticave is a secure hideaway, and yours truly, the plasticgraduate, accesses lonejustice, through a series of tubes called the Internet. This is truly amazing technology that allows for complete anonymity.

The plasticgraduate has always been a great believer in the superiority of the animal kingdom. Obviously, monkeys have known for years how to peel a banana while I always struggle, mashing it and throwing away half. Oh well, I usually have enough left over for my Cheerios. What do monkeys care about cereal? They probably take Lipitor for their cholesterol problems.

It has come to my attention via the Google on the Internets that an impostor is posing as the plasticgraduate.

Yes, he tries to distinguish himself by placing a space between the two words- "plastic graduate" - and he writes much of his blog entries in Chinese, but take no substitutes, my friends, the real plasticgraduate, author of lonejustice, is unique and safely ensconced in the Plasticave somewhere in the Great Northwest.

Some of this charlatan's English-language blog entries are often filled with the type of tired excuses for lapses that have become all too common in the blogosphere:

It has been quite a while since the last time I wrote an entry. Even though I despise the activity of maintaining a blog as a fashion statement, I do have rare fits of pouring out junk from my brain just to clear up spaces for the exams. Therefore, the entry is kind of long, and you have no choice but to live with it.

No, just kidding. Only trying to get your attention. No prize here. Nothing to look at. Move along.

Unfortunately prime tweeting hours are between 9 am and 9 pm, so I've been forced to write this in blog format. No more putting on airs.

Yes, I have found incontrovertible proof that spending the past 60 days on the internet has made me stupid. I know this, not because I read it in Wikipedia, but because I read it in an article in a high falutin' magazine called The Atlantic. OK, so I didn't really read the article. But I did look at the headline. And that was pretty scary.

Give people a little power and they will turn into a little autocrat. Inventing little rules out of the ether. Often in myriad trivial ways, often in ways which seem trivial but in reality come to play a pivotal role in the life of the one being trampled upon.

This was my experience just last week when I made what I thought was a simple request to a superior in what has become the never-ending Oregonian quest for palatable employment. Evidently, this was my error in assuming it was simple. In fact, my request could not be handled because it was improper (?) and, as such, had to first be cleared through the proper channels. Apparently the plasticgraduate is not the only person with a Ph.D. in superficiality.

Once in a restaurant in Mexico, I asked if I could plug in my camera charger while we ate. The waitress informed me that it was against the policy of the establishment. Hmm...I've worked in eateries and never seen such a detailed operating manual. "Regulation IIIa clearly states that no patron shall access the electrical outlets for digital photography purposes during the breakfast hours."

I recall really being struck by Discipline & Punish: The Birth of the Prison, by Foucault.

Yes, these were the days when people had books, and they were on paper, Grasshopper. I know you were confused because I saw you kept using your mouse to click on the page numbers to try to read the next section.

Anyway, so apparently we punish those who step out of the boundaries of acceptable behavior of society. Problem is, there doesn't seem to be any universally agreed upon standards. It's only by crossing those boundaries that one can hold true to ideals and so a fundamental question must be asked - should you risk position, reputation or to give up the fight? Unfortunately, there are no guarantees in the latter, either. But that's where the fun is.

In the words of that immortal 70's poet, Billy Joel, "I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints..."

Moved the Plastifamily into the cave a few weeks ago. Still working on the kitchen so we have to bring ice in and keep the milk in a Coleman ice chest. Plastigirl has taken it upon herself to do some home decorating.

Celebrated the New Year with a bottle of champagne. Heard strange noises. Kind of a loud growling. Went outside and was confronted by a seven foot hairy, biped. He grunted. Pounded his chest and scurried away. The next day I found some beer bottles in a small clearing near this encounter. I followed the footprints and found him sleeping off the night of revelry.

I shook him awake. He let out a long growl, "Me want Advil."

I complied. We engaged in some idle conversation. Found out his name is Sasqui. He is a bachelor who lives in the woods nearby. I invited him over for coffee the next day. I think we'll become fast friends. He seems like I can trust him with my true identity.