House votes against "Fairness" Doctrine

The House of Representatives amended an appropriations bill to bar the FCC from implementing a Fairness Doctrine. The vote was 309-115, which implies that a lot of people in both parties were for the ban, but the measure's opposition came (predictably) from Democrats. The restriction has to be accepted by the Senate before it becomes law.

House Appropriations Chairman David R. Obey called the opposition to the Fairness Doctrine an "effort by right-wing radio to gin up a fight that doesn’t exist." This is amusing. In the Senate, Richard Durbin, Dianne Feinstein, and John Kerry all had given it their support. After getting a bipartisan slap in the face, its supporters are now saying, "What? Fairness Doctrine? When did we ever say we wanted a Fairness Doctrine? You must be thinking of somebody else."

Howard Roark is a rat

Forget Angelina Jolie. Brad Bird has remade The Fountainhead and done a great job of it.

Ratatouille isn't actually close enough to make Leonard Peikoff sue, but the resemblance in both spirit and plot is unmistakable and, I think, intentional.

Remy is a rat living with a pack of rats. Though they have human intelligence, they're rodents in a human world, living on garbage. (It's an anthropomorphic-animal convention you just have to accept.) But Remy has a highly developed sense of taste, and has taken his inspiration from the Parisian Chef Gusteau and his book, Anyone Can Cook. When he's separated from his family, he's guided by his imaginary projection of the late Gusteau and comes to his restaurant. Since Gusteau's death, it has been run by a mediocrity named Skinner, whose main interest is in attaching Gusteau's name to corn dogs and burritos.

Remy forms an unlikely alliance with a bottom-rung employee, Linguini, who has great enthusiasm but no talent. Acting as Remy's literal puppet, Linguini makes wonderful dishes and reverses the decline in the restaurant's reputation. He gets all the credit while Remy has to hide under his hat. Linguini rises to the top, but when he doesn't have Remy, all he can do is panic.

Aside from the obvious Roark-Keating relationship, with Gusteau standing in for Henry Cameron and Skinner for Guy Francon, Remy is a creator in an almost Randian mold. His passion is "not to take but to make," which means to be a creator of food. This puts him in conflict with his father, who means well but can't imagine life ever changing from the way it's always been. (There's a hint of Jonathan Livingston Seagull here.) The movie celebrates the passion for excellence and the ability to rise above one's origins. It also has the high-quality computer animation you'd expect from Pixar, and interesting characterizations throughout. If I've got a complaint, it's just that Linguini gets better than he deserves.

Still not convinced that the resemblance is intentional? Then let me mention a climactic scene in which Remy prepares the movie's eponymous dish for the food critic Anton Ego, who casts a sinister presence over the film, whose earlier scathing review of the restaurant led to Gusteau's death, and who seems determined to finish off its reputation.

The clue is right there in the title. Rat à Toohey.

A real victory over Real ID

An amendment to Bush's immigration bill to prohibit the requiring of Real ID for employment verification has survived a vote to table in the Senate. Without the amendment, the bill will reduce any state that doesn't go along with Real ID to a subsistence economy, as people living there will be barred from holding any employment. To put it bluntly, the immigration bill's sponsors want to impose Real ID by threatening whole states with starvation.

The amendment still has not passed. As long as it retains the Real ID provision, the immigration bill is one of the most barbaric pieces of legislation in many years to have broad approval in Congress.

Update: The entire bill has been effectively killed in the Senate.