This shitty Republican Senator wants to make sure people can leave robocall voicemails directly on your phone without being subject to anti-robocall rules.
TCPAWorld has previously reported on judicial perspectives of ringless voicemail and the Telephone Consumer Protection Act (“TCPA”).
Now the campaign of former Georgia Senator David Perdue has asked the Federal Communications Commission (“FCC”) to “clarify that delivery of a voice message directly to a voicemail box through ringless voicemail (‘RVM’) technology does not constitute a ‘call’ subject to prohibitions on the use of an automatic telephone dialing system (‘ATDS’) or an artificial or prerecorded voice under Section 227(b)(1)(A(iii) of the Telephone Consumer Protection Act (‘TCPA’) or Section 64.1200(a)(1)(iii) of the FCC’s rules.”
More specifically, the Campaign asserts “RVM technology establishes a direct server-to-server connection between the RVM vendor and the voicemail system that bypasses wireless networks.” Further, the technology does not “result in the same ‘annoyance to consumers’ as traditional phone calls…” because “[w]hen a voicemail is delivered… the phone does not ring.” Finally, “[w]ith RVM technology, no call appears on the recipient’s phone bill and no charge is assessed for delivery of the message.”
There's a fun pasta shape called "mafaldine". Imagine a very narrow lasagna, or a fettuccine with ruffled edges.
It was named after the early 20th C Italian Princess, Mafalda of Savoy. In 1925, she married a German Prince, Phillip. And that marriage made them formal intermediaries between the governments of Nazi Germany and fascist Italy.
Unfortunately, Hilter and Goebbles never liked her; and even worse, they distrusted her and thought she was working against the war effort. So after Italy surrendered to the Allies in 1943, Mafalda and Phillip were in trouble. The Nazis arrested Phillip, and ordered Mafalda's arrest (78 years ago today). They picked her up shortly thereafter and sent her to the Buchenwald concentration camp. Her children took refuge in the Vatican. After about a year, in August 1944, she was injured when the Allies bombed a munitions factory at the Buchenwald camp; and not too long after, she died of those injuries.
Daily Wire host says Barack Obama destroyed rock 'n roll because "rock 'n roll was about white male angst...Barack Obama came along and said young white men aren't allowed to have angst" pic.twitter.com/hhmXcwEEKo
In spite of such unusual sights our townsfolk apparently found it hard to grasp what was happening to them. There were feelings all could share, such as fear and separation, but personal interests, too, continued to occupy the foreground of their thoughts. Nobody as yet had really acknowledged to himself what the disease connoted. Most people were chiefly aware of what ruffled the normal tenor of their lives or affected their interests. They were worried and irritated—but these are not feelings with which to confront plague. Their first reaction, for instance, was to abuse the authorities. The Prefect’s riposte to criticisms echoed by the press—Could not the regulations be modified and made less stringent?—was somewhat unexpected. Hitherto neither the newspapers nor the Ransdoc Information Bureau had been given any official statistics relating to the epidemic. Now the Prefect supplied them daily to the bureau, with the request that they should be broadcast once a week.
In this, too, the reaction of the public was slower than might have been expected. Thus the bare statement that three hundred and two deaths had taken place in the third week of plague failed to strike their imagination. For one thing, all the three hundred and two deaths might not have been due to plague. Also, no one in the town had any idea of the average weekly death-rate in ordinary times. The population of the town was about two hundred thousand. There was no knowing if the present death-rate were really so abnormal. This is, in fact, the kind of statistics that nobody ever troubles much about—notwithstanding that its interest is obvious. The public lacked, in short, standards of comparison. It was only as time passed and the steady rise in the death-rate could not be ignored that public opinion became alive to the truth. For in the fifth week there were three hundred and twenty-one deaths, and three hundred and forty-five in the sixth. These figures, anyhow, spoke for themselves. Yet they were still not sensational enough to prevent our townsfolk, perturbed though they were, from persisting in the idea that what was happening was a sort of accident, disagreeable enough, but certainly of a temporary order.
The word “plague” had just been uttered for the first time. At this stage of the narrative, with Dr. Bernard Rieux standing at his window, the narrator may, perhaps, be allowed to justify the doctor’s uncertainty and surprise—since, with very slight differences, his reaction was the same as that of the great majority of our townsfolk. Everybody knows that pestilences have a way of recurring in the world; yet somehow we find it hard to believe in ones that crash down on our heads from a blue sky. There have been as many plagues as wars in history; yet always plagues and wars take people equally by surprise.
In fact, like our fellow citizens, Rieux was caught off his guard, and we should understand his hesitations in the light of this fact; and similarly understand how he was torn between conflicting fears and confidence. When a war breaks out, people say: “It’s too stupid; it can’t last long.” But though a war may well be “too stupid,” that doesn’t prevent its lasting. Stupidity has a knack of getting its way; as we should see if we were not always so much wrapped up in ourselves.
In this respect our townsfolk were like everybody else, wrapped up in themselves; in other words they were humanists: they disbelieved in pestilences. A pestilence isn’t a thing made to man’s measure; therefore we tell ourselves that pestilence is a mere bogy of the mind, a bad dream that will pass away. But it doesn’t always pass away and, from one bad dream to another, it is men who pass away, and the humanists first of all, because they haven’t taken their precautions. Our townsfolk were not more to blame than others; they forgot to be modest, that was all, and thought that everything still was possible for them; which presupposed that pestilences were impossible. They went on doing business, arranged for journeys, and formed views. How should they have given a thought to anything like plague, which rules out any future, cancels journeys, silences the exchange of views. They fancied themselves free, and no one will ever be free so long as there are pestilences.
Remington Death Machines, Inc, takes blaming the victim to a new low.
Gun company Remington has subpoenaed the report cards, attendance records, and disciplinary records of five kindergarten and first grade students murdered in the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting, according to new court filings in a civil lawsuit filed against the company.
“In mid-July, the defense served a subpoena on the Newtown Public School District seeking: ‘Any and all educational records in your possession including but not limited to, application and admission paperwork, attendance records, transcripts, report cards, disciplinary records, correspondence and any and all other educational information and records pertaining to’ each of the five first-graders whose Estates are plaintiffs in this case,” according to the motion filed today that sought to protect the victims’ families from further subpoenas.
It's so heinous, I can't even make the obvious jokes about it.