This should make every U.S. citizen nervous. The AP, following the lead of The New York Times, is reporting that President George W. Bush authorized the National Security Agency to spy on Americans after Sept. 11 without warrants. As many as 500 Americans live under American surveillance at any given time.

This seems wrong to me on a few levels. First, though the Fourth Amendment allows warrantless searches, conditions for such are quite limited. Authorities cannot just throw a net, blindly hoping to find illegal (or, in this case, terrorist) activity.

Second, the same amendment calls for probable cause as grounds for such monitoring. Many might think this is a given: If the government thinks Mr. Smith (or Mr. Abdullah) is suspicious, surely it has good reason. That may be true, but these ultra-secret observations have no independent oversight, so we’ll never know.

It’s classified.

Our precious Constitution would not have survived states’ muster and passed had it not been for the Bill of Rights. The first 10 amendments spell out the contract between individual freedoms and federal power. Tyranny flows from an arrogant federal government.

It’s late, and I’ve had a long day, but I wanted to scribble down some thoughts on Peter Jackson’s King Kong before dropping off. I’d read a couple of rave reviews of it, notably here and here, but had to judge for myself.

Amazing, in a word. Jackson set a high filmmaking bar with Return of the King, particularly in the Battle of Pelennor Fields sequences. He soars over that bar for King Kong. I actually wanted to cry when Kong plummetted off the Empire State Building. No spoiling here; like Titanic, you know how it ends. Yet, Naomi Watts and Andy Serkis (with CGI magic) make retracing the steps to the foregone conclusion of the 1933 version a delight. And the delight remains throughout this 800-pound gorilla of a film.

Fay Wray would be proud.

Pay special attention to the recreation of Depression-era Times Square and jungle brawl scenes.

I was the lucky recipient of Beavis and Butt-Head, The Mike Judge Collection for Christmas. It’s totally #%@^*in’ funny, and quite indulgent.

But MTV gets a big turd in their stocking for putting commercials on the DVDs that you can’t fast forward through. I don’t mind ads on DVDs, but at least let me hit Menu and get through them. While I didn’t buy the set myself, it’s inexcusably nasty to the people who plunked down cash for the product to force them to watch commercials every time they watch your DVD.

It’s bad enough when ads sneak into the space before a movie’s credits on a DVD. Putting ads on each of three DVDs is just plain asinine.

OK, I’m done complaining.

This post is not brought to you by a watershed event. I haven’t had a birthday recently, and I haven’t found gray hairs. I do admit having gray hairs, but it doesn’t bother me.

It’s just that getting older - not growing up - has been on my mind recently.

I’m only 32. But, to drip over with drama, death grows near. At least nearer than 10 years ago. And definitely nearer than when I thought 30-something was old.

Thirty-two. That’s halfway to the Beatle’s famed number. That’s closer to getting AARP mailers than to wiling away time in a backyard sandbox. That’s old enough to know better, and still wish at times that you didn’t.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not complaining. I like 32. I have the best post-college job I’ve had so far and a beautiful girlfriend. Good money awaits me every Friday. I enjoy what I’m blessed with. Plus, when I don’t have a goatee, I look much younger and get carded for beer. When I was 20, I couldn’t have understood how flattering that is.

So, today, as I sit in a Tijuana Flats down the street from my apartment, I raise my Negro Modelo to getting older, and the joys and challenges it brings - receding hairline and all.

Cheers to what lies ahead.

Hang the writing gap on the cable TV peg. The Daily Show, Colbert Report and Drawn Together have sapped my creative will.

I did want to mention one interesting item from a few days ago (even though mentioning it somehow lends it credence). The St. Petersburg Times has made Bill O’Reilly’s naughty list for this holiday season. According to the Fox News commentator, this paper has “regularly helped distribute defamation and false information supplied by far left websites.”

Ouch. Now tell us what you really think, Bill.

He also wants to give coal lumps to The New York Times and MSNBC.

But wait, there’s more: “These are the worst offenders. In the months to come, we expect to add more names to this list. We recommend that you do not patronize these operations and that advertisers do the same. They are dishonest and not worth your time and money.”

Thing one: What I’ve quoted here is all O’Reilly’s list says; there’s no support to his argument that we and others are liberal Web site propagandists. A sane man, with a keen eye for pitfalls inherent in public discourse, might, oh, I dunno, back up such a serious claim. Such a man might offer examples. Otherwise, such a man might end up giving the impression that he is also a propagandist.

Thing two: O’Reilly’s list doesn’t link out so people can click through, and judge for themselves. Was it Brazil or 1984 that had the talking televisions that everyone listened to without question?

A fairer criticism of the Times is that we’re shills for Apple Computer. It seems iPod ear buds sprout from just about every ear in the newsroom - myself included. And I can’t quantify it, but I seems we spend an awful lot of ink on the latest iPod releases. Coincidence?

Hmmm, could be.

But, as far as the liberal Web sites issue, I doubt it. Then again, I’ve only been at the paper for three months. Maybe they’ll let me in on the political part of the cabal soon.

PS: Judge for yourselves. Click through, be free.

1. St. Petersburg Times
2. The New York Times
3. MSNBC

PPS: On second thought, I worked for a newspaper owned by The New York Times for more than two years, and they never let me in on their cabal either. Maybe it’s me - maybe I just don’t look like I can be trusted with keeping a cabal quiet.