January, and Winter Term, are coming to a quick end. For a variety of reasons, it hasn't been a really terrific January. I'm more than a bit anxious about the depression (or is it depressed about the anxiety? who can tell?), for one thing. I've had to deal with an unspeakably angering faculty rights case, which has cost time, energy, and some little anxiety as well.
But you know what, so far this Obama guy looks to be trying to do some good. Plus, I haven't had to euthanize anybody. I made two exemplary meatloaves and numerous terrific batches of bread. Guerin's beer should be just about ready to eat. Good stuff.
I'm plodding along with re-learning fundamentals of fingerpicking, to adapt my playing to the kind of fingerstyle guitar I have aspired to, and admired from afar, and which is frequently very badly represented in guitar tabulature to be found online. (I found a tab for John Fahey's number "Sligo River Blues" that was apparently transcribed by a tone-deaf music-hating arhythmic maniac just prior to overdosing on barbiturates. Thankfully, helpfully, some French dude videocapped himself playing the thing and youtubed it. I'm about 1/4 of 1% done learning it.)
I'm getting around to the presentation I have to prepare for the Society for Phenomenology and Media's 11th - count 'em! - conference, next month near DC. It'll be nice to go to DC again. The last time we were there was just after the 2004 election, and we spent a lot of time explaining away our disparaging remarks about the Bush administration, speaking clearly and distinctly into various lamps, lightswitches, bedside tables, Gideon's Bibles, and ceiling tiles that, we felt certain, had no doubt been wiretapped For The Safety Of The Homeland And In Support Of Our Troops. We'll at least feel like things have changed.
That's where I am at present: I at least feel like I've helped a faculty colleague, like the new president has good ideas and intentions, like I'm advancing my guitar playing, like it's been a better January. I hold my final judgment in abeyance. Time will tell.
I wonder if this is how it felt to be Nick Drake.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
proud to be union,
plus, pain
Friday I cut class short, to drive us up to Sac ("The Town So Nice, They Named It Sac") for the CFA Joint Council meeting of the Lecturers and the Affirmative Action* councils. There was the usual dinner-n-speaker on Friday, then the all-day meeting of the Lecturers' Council on Saturday.
It wasn't a meeting chock full of epiphanies. For one thing, there's been a bit of turnover among the council personnel, which is good - new blood, even if it's not exactly young blood, is always a good thing. So some of the meeting's agenda was set with that in mind.
Plus, at this point, given the economic straits, given the impasse in the re-opener "negotiations" with the CSU on salaries (of which more in a sec), the proper focus is on technical matters of contract enforcement, and building the union's capacity. "Capacity building" is the new watchword, a broader notion than recruiting membership, because it involves recruiting activists, improving communications, creating political power - a large-scale, multi-layered, munificently-hyphenated effort.
I like it. I've been getting really upset about the coming economic apocalypse, and now I feel like I've got specific things to do. I'm starting with the spring. Actually, I'm starting this week.
So, okay. We came within a week of striking for the first time, but finally won the best contract in the history of CFA, two springs ago. We got raises that would give us salaries slightly more in keeping with other faculty in comparable institutions (and raises for the first time in years). Then the economy, predictably, tanked, and the CSU, predictably, re-opened the salary article in response. Their first offer was to eliminate the raises we bargained. Their last, best offer, tendered last week, was to eliminate the raises we bargained. That's CSU bargaining.
In any case, the CSU is saying that they have money, and could pay the raises, but there are "competing priorities" for spending the money. Which, I think, means "we could pay you the raises you bargained, but we're not gonna."
Now, I'm totally sympathetic to the needs of the staff, and the need to try to keep student fees lower. My problem with the CSU's move at this point is that once again, this public institution is refusing to be transparent, or even forthcoming, about its books. Someone this weekend put the absurdity and insult of it pretty well: not only is this a violation of the public trust, but it's also ignoring the presence, right here in the CSU, of expertise the CSU administration could consult about budget management. (Locally, the admin at Santa Claus is moving toward being more forthcoming, and relying on the expertise of a faculty-majority committee for budget advice.)
Anyway, back home Saturday night after a quick trip to a hoidy-toidy yarn store and the Sac IKEA, then off this afternoon for the Townsend Opera Players's production of The Magic Flute. Then back home, to grade papers. I'm pretty tired. And my wrist and little fingers on my left hand have hurt for three days. I think driving is aggravating my previous bout of carpal pain.
*"Affirmative Action" is not a legally recognized model for achieving diversity in public institutions in California, per a ballot initiative passed by voters many years ago. However, the CSU and CFA jointly put together a policy which continues to acknowledge affirmative action as an important value in hiring faculty and staff, and in enrolling students. I don't think CSU does a great job (and the numbers demonstrate that), but the population of CFA is sure getting more and more diverse and interesting.
It wasn't a meeting chock full of epiphanies. For one thing, there's been a bit of turnover among the council personnel, which is good - new blood, even if it's not exactly young blood, is always a good thing. So some of the meeting's agenda was set with that in mind.
Plus, at this point, given the economic straits, given the impasse in the re-opener "negotiations" with the CSU on salaries (of which more in a sec), the proper focus is on technical matters of contract enforcement, and building the union's capacity. "Capacity building" is the new watchword, a broader notion than recruiting membership, because it involves recruiting activists, improving communications, creating political power - a large-scale, multi-layered, munificently-hyphenated effort.
I like it. I've been getting really upset about the coming economic apocalypse, and now I feel like I've got specific things to do. I'm starting with the spring. Actually, I'm starting this week.
So, okay. We came within a week of striking for the first time, but finally won the best contract in the history of CFA, two springs ago. We got raises that would give us salaries slightly more in keeping with other faculty in comparable institutions (and raises for the first time in years). Then the economy, predictably, tanked, and the CSU, predictably, re-opened the salary article in response. Their first offer was to eliminate the raises we bargained. Their last, best offer, tendered last week, was to eliminate the raises we bargained. That's CSU bargaining.
In any case, the CSU is saying that they have money, and could pay the raises, but there are "competing priorities" for spending the money. Which, I think, means "we could pay you the raises you bargained, but we're not gonna."
Now, I'm totally sympathetic to the needs of the staff, and the need to try to keep student fees lower. My problem with the CSU's move at this point is that once again, this public institution is refusing to be transparent, or even forthcoming, about its books. Someone this weekend put the absurdity and insult of it pretty well: not only is this a violation of the public trust, but it's also ignoring the presence, right here in the CSU, of expertise the CSU administration could consult about budget management. (Locally, the admin at Santa Claus is moving toward being more forthcoming, and relying on the expertise of a faculty-majority committee for budget advice.)
Anyway, back home Saturday night after a quick trip to a hoidy-toidy yarn store and the Sac IKEA, then off this afternoon for the Townsend Opera Players's production of The Magic Flute. Then back home, to grade papers. I'm pretty tired. And my wrist and little fingers on my left hand have hurt for three days. I think driving is aggravating my previous bout of carpal pain.
*"Affirmative Action" is not a legally recognized model for achieving diversity in public institutions in California, per a ballot initiative passed by voters many years ago. However, the CSU and CFA jointly put together a policy which continues to acknowledge affirmative action as an important value in hiring faculty and staff, and in enrolling students. I don't think CSU does a great job (and the numbers demonstrate that), but the population of CFA is sure getting more and more diverse and interesting.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
the news story everybody is talking about today
The CSU is drafting information security and system use policy for all the 23 campuses, and today the academic senate of CSU Stanislaus (a.k.a. the ork-o-demic senate at Cow State Santa Claus) discussed the draft policy. I would characterize the senate's mood as unimpressed.
I was vaguely insulted by the draft policy, as I scanned through it, because it seemed to contemplate, if not actually assume, that the main info security issue the CSU has is that users (i.e., faculty and staff) treat information access like a personal playground for nefarious and illegal deeds. I hadn't put it together before the meeting, when one of my colleagues pointed out that the basic flaw in the draft policy is its failure to address universities as though teaching, research, and scholarship happened there. In the corporate environment, he noted, the assumption is that the corporation owns all information users may have some access to. In a university environment, that's not really the case, especially when faculty enjoy (as we still do, to a limited extent) academic freedom.
More to the point, it's another example of the way university administrations look at the life and work of universities: as problems, mainly generated by faculty (when not generated by students), that can generate chaos and create civil liability. As another colleague put it, sotto voce, during the senate meeting, the CSU is looking for one pedophile in San Bernardino, and we're all going to pay for it. (This is not to suggest that there is a pedophile working for or attending CSU San Bernardino. My colleague was making what is usually called a joke.)
Local experience suggests something quite different. The main problems with information security we've had have involved accidental release and insecurity of personal data. About five years ago, while changing servers, employee data were for several hours left on an unsecured server. About three years ago, our food-service concessionaire used unsecured internet access for credit and debit card transactions.
What the new CSU info security policy seems to aim for is to identify and exploit every avenue for limiting the university's potential liability.
Our mission? Eh.
I was vaguely insulted by the draft policy, as I scanned through it, because it seemed to contemplate, if not actually assume, that the main info security issue the CSU has is that users (i.e., faculty and staff) treat information access like a personal playground for nefarious and illegal deeds. I hadn't put it together before the meeting, when one of my colleagues pointed out that the basic flaw in the draft policy is its failure to address universities as though teaching, research, and scholarship happened there. In the corporate environment, he noted, the assumption is that the corporation owns all information users may have some access to. In a university environment, that's not really the case, especially when faculty enjoy (as we still do, to a limited extent) academic freedom.
More to the point, it's another example of the way university administrations look at the life and work of universities: as problems, mainly generated by faculty (when not generated by students), that can generate chaos and create civil liability. As another colleague put it, sotto voce, during the senate meeting, the CSU is looking for one pedophile in San Bernardino, and we're all going to pay for it. (This is not to suggest that there is a pedophile working for or attending CSU San Bernardino. My colleague was making what is usually called a joke.)
Local experience suggests something quite different. The main problems with information security we've had have involved accidental release and insecurity of personal data. About five years ago, while changing servers, employee data were for several hours left on an unsecured server. About three years ago, our food-service concessionaire used unsecured internet access for credit and debit card transactions.
What the new CSU info security policy seems to aim for is to identify and exploit every avenue for limiting the university's potential liability.
Our mission? Eh.
Monday, January 19, 2009
educational fascism,
and what Stanley Fish is gonna do about it
When I first contemplated grad school, one of my undergrad profs advised me about what to expect. Among the things he told me (almost all of which turned out to be true) was that my chances of getting a tenure-track job teaching philosophy at the other end of grad school were remote - not because of some failing of mine, but because, in his view, there simply weren't going to be very many tenure-track jobs out there. When I first came to California to teach, it was as a one-year full-time "lecturer." I've retained this position, through hard work, a bit of luck, and some struggle. Now I'm an activist in the union and an advocate for the rights of faculty, like me, in "temporary" positions - the majority of the faculty.
Over the years, I've gone through some important changes of mind. Regarding "temporary" employment in academia, I've come to the conclusion that tenure is disappearing completely. This is the last generation to see tenure. (It may be the last generation among affluent nations to see electricity, central heat, mass-scale economies, and abundant food, but that's a tale for another day.) Already, the vast majority of college faculty in the US work with little or no job security, and little or no hope of attaining it. The trend is also increasing its pace.
Some observers believe there is an open question of why this is happening. Some assert that no one is causing this trend - that "market forces" or an irrevocable cultural shift are to blame. To me, this is patent hogwash. Tenure is going away because powerful people want it to go away. They want it to go away because tenured faculty cost more, have more authority, cannot be told what to do - in theory, at least (many tenured faculty I know are astonishingly timorous and quiescent, especially in contrast to the unprotected contingent faculty activists I know, and admittedly vastly prefer). The casualization of faculty labor is especially acute in humanities, where tenure is becoming the badge of elite status and where the bulk of teaching is done by tenuous-track faculty. Why in the humanities? I think the answers are obvious: What else can an MA or PhD in humanities do for a living? Where else can cost savings be so easily achieved by universities? And the big one: what other disciplines deliberately focus on developing critical reasoning abilities that may lead students to wonder about their educations, careers, and roles in society?
Recently, someone clued Stanley Fish in on this, and he even read a book about it, by a former student named Frank Donoghue. Fish seems to endorse Donoghue's conclusion, which is that humanities departments will soon be peopled entirely with education's equivalent of migrant workers. This, Fish explains, is because of social changes that have ruled out education being for any non-instrumental purpose - that is, education is understood as only for the sake of developing job skills. Fish contrasts this with education in humanities being for no purpose - just for the sake of explaining and understanding, which issues in no change in the world at all.
Fish doesn't say much about the implicit fascism of the "instrumental" model of education, but instead considers the end of tenure in the humanities. In concluding, he seems to express a vague air of wistfulness about it:
Goody for you, Stan.
The article pisses me off, not, as one might imagine, because of Fish's blasé attitude toward the fairly lousy working lives of the majority faculty on whose labor Fish's own elite status utterly depends - though indeed that pisses me off. What really irked me was the ignorance of his argument. He poses a clearly false dichotomy: humanities education must be either for the sake of saleable skills, or for purposeless understanding. That he can make this argument, with an apparently straight face, what? 70? years after The Dialectic of Enlightenment is impossible for me to grasp. Hello? Stanley? Remember the debates with Habermas?
Asshole.
Anyway, humanities education can be, often is, fascistic. But it needn't be "instrumental" in that sense alone. There is a critical use of reason, as well - one that, contrary to Fish's elitism, does issue in social change. At least, we're trying...
So, think I'll add Stanley Fish to the list: not allowed in the house. You blew it, Stan.
Over the years, I've gone through some important changes of mind. Regarding "temporary" employment in academia, I've come to the conclusion that tenure is disappearing completely. This is the last generation to see tenure. (It may be the last generation among affluent nations to see electricity, central heat, mass-scale economies, and abundant food, but that's a tale for another day.) Already, the vast majority of college faculty in the US work with little or no job security, and little or no hope of attaining it. The trend is also increasing its pace.
Some observers believe there is an open question of why this is happening. Some assert that no one is causing this trend - that "market forces" or an irrevocable cultural shift are to blame. To me, this is patent hogwash. Tenure is going away because powerful people want it to go away. They want it to go away because tenured faculty cost more, have more authority, cannot be told what to do - in theory, at least (many tenured faculty I know are astonishingly timorous and quiescent, especially in contrast to the unprotected contingent faculty activists I know, and admittedly vastly prefer). The casualization of faculty labor is especially acute in humanities, where tenure is becoming the badge of elite status and where the bulk of teaching is done by tenuous-track faculty. Why in the humanities? I think the answers are obvious: What else can an MA or PhD in humanities do for a living? Where else can cost savings be so easily achieved by universities? And the big one: what other disciplines deliberately focus on developing critical reasoning abilities that may lead students to wonder about their educations, careers, and roles in society?
Recently, someone clued Stanley Fish in on this, and he even read a book about it, by a former student named Frank Donoghue. Fish seems to endorse Donoghue's conclusion, which is that humanities departments will soon be peopled entirely with education's equivalent of migrant workers. This, Fish explains, is because of social changes that have ruled out education being for any non-instrumental purpose - that is, education is understood as only for the sake of developing job skills. Fish contrasts this with education in humanities being for no purpose - just for the sake of explaining and understanding, which issues in no change in the world at all.
Fish doesn't say much about the implicit fascism of the "instrumental" model of education, but instead considers the end of tenure in the humanities. In concluding, he seems to express a vague air of wistfulness about it:
People sometimes believe that they were born too late or too early. After reading Donoghue’s book, I feel that I have timed it just right, for it seems that I have had a career that would not have been available to me had I entered the world 50 years later. Just lucky, I guess.
Goody for you, Stan.
The article pisses me off, not, as one might imagine, because of Fish's blasé attitude toward the fairly lousy working lives of the majority faculty on whose labor Fish's own elite status utterly depends - though indeed that pisses me off. What really irked me was the ignorance of his argument. He poses a clearly false dichotomy: humanities education must be either for the sake of saleable skills, or for purposeless understanding. That he can make this argument, with an apparently straight face, what? 70? years after The Dialectic of Enlightenment is impossible for me to grasp. Hello? Stanley? Remember the debates with Habermas?
Asshole.
Anyway, humanities education can be, often is, fascistic. But it needn't be "instrumental" in that sense alone. There is a critical use of reason, as well - one that, contrary to Fish's elitism, does issue in social change. At least, we're trying...
So, think I'll add Stanley Fish to the list: not allowed in the house. You blew it, Stan.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
winter term quietly moves along
Nothing to see here, for some odd reason.
I'm knee-deep in Winter Term, the four-week inter-session Cow State Santa Claus crams between Fall and Spring semesters, in order to wreak utter havoc on the Collective Bargaining Agreement's provisions on salary and benefits. But that's another story for another day.
I've taught in Winter Term every year but two. It's fairly tiring: a full semester's credit bearing course, taught three days a week, three hours each day.
By way of some unknown concatenation of unseen forces, this Winter Term is doing its own thing, and otherwise my academic life and the university seem very still. In my usual paranoia about such matters, I've naturally assumed this is the calm before the storm (indeed, the 2009-2010 budget proposal from the gub cuts the CSU budget another $66 million).
It's a peculiar rhythm.
Oh yes, and it's stopped raining. We've gotten about 10% of normal rainfall for the month.
I'm knee-deep in Winter Term, the four-week inter-session Cow State Santa Claus crams between Fall and Spring semesters, in order to wreak utter havoc on the Collective Bargaining Agreement's provisions on salary and benefits. But that's another story for another day.
I've taught in Winter Term every year but two. It's fairly tiring: a full semester's credit bearing course, taught three days a week, three hours each day.
By way of some unknown concatenation of unseen forces, this Winter Term is doing its own thing, and otherwise my academic life and the university seem very still. In my usual paranoia about such matters, I've naturally assumed this is the calm before the storm (indeed, the 2009-2010 budget proposal from the gub cuts the CSU budget another $66 million).
It's a peculiar rhythm.
Oh yes, and it's stopped raining. We've gotten about 10% of normal rainfall for the month.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
life being what it is
I'm listening to a Kaki King song called "Life Being What It Is." It's really good. She's a fantastic guitar player, and I wish I could play as well as she does.
But I borrow the title for reasons having nothing to do with my appreciation for Kaki King, or the super-duper-cool percussion-n-harmonic solo on this number, which is excellent.
No, indeed. The title just speaks to the situation.
There's a guy named Keith Hoeller who teaches philosophy for a living, much like I do, up in Washington. He also spends a lot of time reading everything, apparently, published about the plight of contingent faculty in the US. For weeks, he's been sending links to the "adjunct" faculty listserv that connect to stories about universities around the country planning to cut faculty, salaries, or both, and it's just kind of overwhelming.
University of Urbana and Skidmore College were tonight's pair. Urbana is planning to ask faculty to voluntarily give back 6 percent of their salaries, and cutting non-faculty staff salaries (10 percent for salaries over $75,000). Urbana and Skidmore are both planning to cut or consider cutting temporary faculty, beginning this spring semester.
Every day, there are more reports. Part-time or full-time, non-tenurable college and university faculty everywhere in the US are losing their jobs, day by day. The press coverage of this is spotty, local, and in no way connects the various dots. Not only is there almost no concern about the impact of the layoffs on either the faculty or the students affected, there's no big picture being painted of what this means, or says, about either the economy or our public values.
It's sad to me, because I've spent my entire career as a contingent academic, and the better part of a decade as an advocate for contingent faculty. All those faculty are simply disappearing. They'll be taking unemployment, looking for other ways to make a living - and sometimes having advanced degrees is a hindrance to employment, I know from my own experience.
But above that, it's eerie. I am wondering how many of my close friends and colleagues will just be gone next year, or next month, or in two weeks when the CFA Lecturers' Council meets in Sacramento.
But I borrow the title for reasons having nothing to do with my appreciation for Kaki King, or the super-duper-cool percussion-n-harmonic solo on this number, which is excellent.
No, indeed. The title just speaks to the situation.
There's a guy named Keith Hoeller who teaches philosophy for a living, much like I do, up in Washington. He also spends a lot of time reading everything, apparently, published about the plight of contingent faculty in the US. For weeks, he's been sending links to the "adjunct" faculty listserv that connect to stories about universities around the country planning to cut faculty, salaries, or both, and it's just kind of overwhelming.
University of Urbana and Skidmore College were tonight's pair. Urbana is planning to ask faculty to voluntarily give back 6 percent of their salaries, and cutting non-faculty staff salaries (10 percent for salaries over $75,000). Urbana and Skidmore are both planning to cut or consider cutting temporary faculty, beginning this spring semester.
Every day, there are more reports. Part-time or full-time, non-tenurable college and university faculty everywhere in the US are losing their jobs, day by day. The press coverage of this is spotty, local, and in no way connects the various dots. Not only is there almost no concern about the impact of the layoffs on either the faculty or the students affected, there's no big picture being painted of what this means, or says, about either the economy or our public values.
It's sad to me, because I've spent my entire career as a contingent academic, and the better part of a decade as an advocate for contingent faculty. All those faculty are simply disappearing. They'll be taking unemployment, looking for other ways to make a living - and sometimes having advanced degrees is a hindrance to employment, I know from my own experience.
But above that, it's eerie. I am wondering how many of my close friends and colleagues will just be gone next year, or next month, or in two weeks when the CFA Lecturers' Council meets in Sacramento.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
another one
It's 2009, they tell me, and I've already started by Winter Term class. Winter Term tends to go by extremely quickly, and then Spring commences its interminable slog in mid-February (it actually is Spring here then, unlike in most places in the US, where "Spring" semesters begin in the middle of Winter).
I plan to put fewer things on my plate for the remainder of the Academic Year. Fall was a drag.
On the other hand, it's barely over a week before we get the governor's initial budgetfarce proposal farce. That'll set more sturm und drang in motion, no doubt, because of the drastic and delusional cuts he'll call for, in order to scare the legislature.
I plan to put fewer things on my plate for the remainder of the Academic Year. Fall was a drag.
On the other hand, it's barely over a week before we get the governor's initial budget
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
new year's resolutions
You know why New Year's resolutions don't work. They don't work because momentous declarations of good intent fueled by nostalgia, and perhaps liquid holiday cheer, are flakier than my mom's pumpkin pie crust.
For instance, many years ago, I made a resolution not to make any more New Year's resolutions. So far, so good. It's been I-don't-know-how-many years since I made that resolution, and haven't made another one since. But I'm breaking it.
I resolve to live more joyfully. That was why the pram* I posted earlier.
--
* This use of the word pram is an inside joke between me and my pal Bobo, the Wandering Pall-bearer, from college nights spent watching Monty Python's Flying Circus re-broadcast on MTV. In one of the 1974 episodes, Graham Chapman, dressed up as some kind of aristocrat, and playing (perhaps) drunk, in a scene in which a poetry reading is being held in a backroom of a huge department store, refers to poems as "prams."
For instance, many years ago, I made a resolution not to make any more New Year's resolutions. So far, so good. It's been I-don't-know-how-many years since I made that resolution, and haven't made another one since. But I'm breaking it.
I resolve to live more joyfully. That was why the pram
--
NOT the year in review, part 4
I'm thinking about joy and music today. So:
Shakespeare, Sonnet #8
Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy;
Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly,
Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tunèd sounds
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear:
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering,
Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,
Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: 'Thou single wilt prove none.'
Shakespeare, Sonnet #8
Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy;
Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly,
Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tunèd sounds
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear:
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering,
Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,
Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: 'Thou single wilt prove none.'
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
year in review, part 3
This morning I had an email message with the following subject line:
Tired of staying in a shadow because of your plain watch?
It came from one of those phony email addresses, but this one had the domain name kidshelleens.com
Sums it up, I'd say.
Tired of staying in a shadow because of your plain watch?
It came from one of those phony email addresses, but this one had the domain name kidshelleens.com
Sums it up, I'd say.
Monday, December 22, 2008
a quick one
And now, a seasonal entry from
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
14. Jazz versions of Christmas tunes. I just love 'em.
By jazz versions, I here mean a fairly wide swath in the territory from blues to swing to big band to crooner to hard bop.
A few of these are well-known, of course. For instance, I think most folks know (and if they don't they should) Louis Armstrong's Zat You, Santa Claus?". Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Ella Fitzgerald, Eartha Kitt, Etta James, Ramsey Lewis, and dozens of other jazz or jazz-influenced musicians have recorded joyful, swinging, spiffy X-mas numbers.
We own copies of two of the best jazz holiday albums, Jimmy Smith's rollicking, and sometimes overwhelming Christmas Cookin' and Vince Gauraldi's soundtrack for A Charlie Brown Christmas. I've yet to pick up a new Christmas jazz album this year, but I know which one I want: Joe Pass's Six String Santa. Might need to look that up on iTunes.
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
14. Jazz versions of Christmas tunes. I just love 'em.
By jazz versions, I here mean a fairly wide swath in the territory from blues to swing to big band to crooner to hard bop.
A few of these are well-known, of course. For instance, I think most folks know (and if they don't they should) Louis Armstrong's Zat You, Santa Claus?". Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Ella Fitzgerald, Eartha Kitt, Etta James, Ramsey Lewis, and dozens of other jazz or jazz-influenced musicians have recorded joyful, swinging, spiffy X-mas numbers.
We own copies of two of the best jazz holiday albums, Jimmy Smith's rollicking, and sometimes overwhelming Christmas Cookin' and Vince Gauraldi's soundtrack for A Charlie Brown Christmas. I've yet to pick up a new Christmas jazz album this year, but I know which one I want: Joe Pass's Six String Santa. Might need to look that up on iTunes.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
year in review, part 2
A momentous, not to say fucking tortuous, 2008 is coming quickly to a close. Having graded all the papers I can for the moment, and seeing as how I'm waiting for the tomato sauce to simmer a bit longer, I thought I'd take this opportunity to look back on the highlights of the past 12 months. Plus, this is the traditional thing to do, and as everyone knows, I'm a stickler for tradition.
With no further ado...
2008: The Best Of The Year
False modesty aside, January was when I received the Cool People Special Award For Being Really Exzeptionally Cool. My loveliest was quite gracious in her introductory speech, especially since she had to compose herself quickly after having been surprised during the same award ceremony with the Cool People Award For Homina-homina-homina-homina.
We celebrated National Poetry Month in April, along with so many others, by burning copies of chapbooks by Billy Corgan and Billy Collins, and smashing copies of cds of the National Poetry Month celebrity poetry readings, held annually. We also ate crullers, but you knew that.
In May we threw a gala to commemorate the 5th anniversary of V-I (Victory in Iraq) Day, but no one came.
Christina and Guerin were also married in May. We were amongst the bridal party, and the bridal party. Before, during, and after the ceremony, the entirety of the party chanted in various ancient languages to give the occasion a sense of weird cinematic foreboding, but no one seemed to notice. In any case, we were somewhat rewarded for our efforts when the married couple suffered a freak Alpine skiing injury in Venice.
The university caught fire in July, and 23 of the 18 buildings burnt to the ground, only to be rebuilt at exorbitant expense by a private donor.
In October, Alexander and Arthur won the Nobel Prize for their General and Special Theories of Looney Tunes Physics. Unfortunately, they lost all the prize money on the stock market. They have no heads for figures.
November: Of course, we all marveled, and some of us marvel still, at the discovery that the number 3 is actually worth only 2. The economic turmoil aside, it's pretty cool to consider the more cosmic ramifications.
Now here it is, December, in the midst of the conversion of the entire US economy from information-based industry to a bailout-based economy, in which unfettered capitalist competition and the fantastic risk-taking behavior it impels leads to rewards for those willing to engage in the most incredibly insane risks. We're very hopeful that as this transition continues, Alex and Arthur will eventually make us incredibly rich. (Note to Henry Paulson: No, they're not available for consultation.)
With no further ado...
2008: The Best Of The Year
False modesty aside, January was when I received the Cool People Special Award For Being Really Exzeptionally Cool. My loveliest was quite gracious in her introductory speech, especially since she had to compose herself quickly after having been surprised during the same award ceremony with the Cool People Award For Homina-homina-homina-homina.
We celebrated National Poetry Month in April, along with so many others, by burning copies of chapbooks by Billy Corgan and Billy Collins, and smashing copies of cds of the National Poetry Month celebrity poetry readings, held annually. We also ate crullers, but you knew that.
In May we threw a gala to commemorate the 5th anniversary of V-I (Victory in Iraq) Day, but no one came.
Christina and Guerin were also married in May. We were amongst the bridal party, and the bridal party. Before, during, and after the ceremony, the entirety of the party chanted in various ancient languages to give the occasion a sense of weird cinematic foreboding, but no one seemed to notice. In any case, we were somewhat rewarded for our efforts when the married couple suffered a freak Alpine skiing injury in Venice.
The university caught fire in July, and 23 of the 18 buildings burnt to the ground, only to be rebuilt at exorbitant expense by a private donor.
In October, Alexander and Arthur won the Nobel Prize for their General and Special Theories of Looney Tunes Physics. Unfortunately, they lost all the prize money on the stock market. They have no heads for figures.
November: Of course, we all marveled, and some of us marvel still, at the discovery that the number 3 is actually worth only 2. The economic turmoil aside, it's pretty cool to consider the more cosmic ramifications.
Now here it is, December, in the midst of the conversion of the entire US economy from information-based industry to a bailout-based economy, in which unfettered capitalist competition and the fantastic risk-taking behavior it impels leads to rewards for those willing to engage in the most incredibly insane risks. We're very hopeful that as this transition continues, Alex and Arthur will eventually make us incredibly rich. (Note to Henry Paulson: No, they're not available for consultation.)
Saturday, December 20, 2008
a good thing to do
Last night we had a little Christmas party with Lauren's boss Lee, and our buds X-ina and Guerin. I made - hold on to yer ass, kids - lamb shanks osso bucco style. This involves braising the poor little critters' shins in stock, tomatoes, garlic, wine, and then tossing in flageolet or cannelini beans. Total braising time: 2 and a half hours. I bunged all into a ginormous square white porcelain bowl we have. You dish up the shank, cover all with beans and braising liquid. The meat melts off the shank.
And I had the best version ever of the rustic Itie white bread I bake.
In the immortal words of my pal Dave "Dave" Koukal, come to poppa!
Anyway, lamb shanks cooked this way is something I think every right-thinking individual who is not a vegetarian should eat at least once in their lives.
And I had the best version ever of the rustic Itie white bread I bake.
In the immortal words of my pal Dave "Dave" Koukal, come to poppa!
Anyway, lamb shanks cooked this way is something I think every right-thinking individual who is not a vegetarian should eat at least once in their lives.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
interview meme
I have been actually interviewed twice in my life. I like the idea of being interviewed, so when No Celery Please posted an interview meme, offering to ask questions of anyone who requests it in comments, I had to beg to be interviewed. Here are No Celery's questions and my replies:
Question #1:
Who was the first philospher you read that made you think... "hmmm, this is great! I want to do this for a living!"?
There are two, in two separate events, so I'm gonna pick the one that started me thinking I would enjoy teaching philosophy for a living. That'd be Karl Marx. I was turned on by the section of the 1844 manuscripts on alienated labor, where Marx defines human life in terms of working to produce the world we live in, and the main problem of labor under capitalism being that that work is taken away, divided up, and its worldliness corrupted. I still enjoy that bit of Marx's stuff.
Question #2:
You are having a dinner party at which you are going to present a 12 course meal. Money and FDA food import laws are not a restriction... what are you making?
Okay, this is really very complicated. I spent close to 10 hours figuring out the courses of my last big feed, and that was only 10 courses. The courses have to fit, they have to be at least somewhat seasonal, and they have to allow for a lot of improv. I'm grading finals. So I'll mention some things I'd definitely want to do as thematic elements to build the whole dinner around.
Caviar amuse, for sure, probably in some kind of creme fraiche sort of application, with chives.
Foie gras, which is now basically illegal to possess or consume in California. I had thought a beef Wellington entrée would fit the bill. But foie gras in some other context would also work.
Without doubt, a truffled potato dish, most likely a gratin with potatoes and truffles, seasoned and flavored delicately enough to bring out the truffles in their full glory.
I am fairly certain some kind of vegetable orgy would be one of the dishes. And a croquette of some sort.
Question #3:
If you could suddenly and effortlessly acquire one skill you currently do not have... what would it be?
I'll go with my first thought here: singing.
Question #4:
If you could be offered a position at any university in the world (tenured, of course) - where would you go? Or would you go?
Either San Francisco State University or CSU Long Beach. I want to remain a member of my union, and I want to remain in California.
Question #5:
What one ingredient can you absolutely not live without in your ktichen (OK, not literally - but, ya know).
Aside from mundane things everybody is likely to have? (Salt, pepper, etc.?) Nutmeg. Whole nutmeg, and my little nutmeg grater.
So, the drill, gentle readers, all 3 of you, is to request to be interviewed in the comments. Then I ask you the questions, and the tables will turn! Hah!
Question #1:
Who was the first philospher you read that made you think... "hmmm, this is great! I want to do this for a living!"?
There are two, in two separate events, so I'm gonna pick the one that started me thinking I would enjoy teaching philosophy for a living. That'd be Karl Marx. I was turned on by the section of the 1844 manuscripts on alienated labor, where Marx defines human life in terms of working to produce the world we live in, and the main problem of labor under capitalism being that that work is taken away, divided up, and its worldliness corrupted. I still enjoy that bit of Marx's stuff.
Question #2:
You are having a dinner party at which you are going to present a 12 course meal. Money and FDA food import laws are not a restriction... what are you making?
Okay, this is really very complicated. I spent close to 10 hours figuring out the courses of my last big feed, and that was only 10 courses. The courses have to fit, they have to be at least somewhat seasonal, and they have to allow for a lot of improv. I'm grading finals. So I'll mention some things I'd definitely want to do as thematic elements to build the whole dinner around.
Caviar amuse, for sure, probably in some kind of creme fraiche sort of application, with chives.
Foie gras, which is now basically illegal to possess or consume in California. I had thought a beef Wellington entrée would fit the bill. But foie gras in some other context would also work.
Without doubt, a truffled potato dish, most likely a gratin with potatoes and truffles, seasoned and flavored delicately enough to bring out the truffles in their full glory.
I am fairly certain some kind of vegetable orgy would be one of the dishes. And a croquette of some sort.
Question #3:
If you could suddenly and effortlessly acquire one skill you currently do not have... what would it be?
I'll go with my first thought here: singing.
Question #4:
If you could be offered a position at any university in the world (tenured, of course) - where would you go? Or would you go?
Either San Francisco State University or CSU Long Beach. I want to remain a member of my union, and I want to remain in California.
Question #5:
What one ingredient can you absolutely not live without in your ktichen (OK, not literally - but, ya know).
Aside from mundane things everybody is likely to have? (Salt, pepper, etc.?) Nutmeg. Whole nutmeg, and my little nutmeg grater.
So, the drill, gentle readers, all 3 of you, is to request to be interviewed in the comments. Then I ask you the questions, and the tables will turn! Hah!
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
year in review, part 1
There be memes for year-in-review posts. I follow one with this post, which has one gather the first lines of each month's first posts from the past year. Here goes:
January
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
44. Primary seasons. I just love 'em.
February
I collected Lancelot's remains from the vet's office this afternoon.
March
It's spring here. Neener-neener-neener.
In any case, it's also the time of year when we celebrate a pair of
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
April
The kittens now have names. They've also had their first vet visit.
May
My loveliest is off at some sort of bridal brunch kinda thing, so I'm here with the monster kittens (as of this writing, Arthur is in the middle of a freakout session; Alexander is eating us out of house and home) and a stack of papers to grade.
June
At some point, this blog will return to usual programming.
July
One lull later...
Been down to LA and back. We went down to LA for fresh air.
August
I don't want to tip my hand much about the plans for my birthday bash on Saturday.
September
The 2008-2009 academic year begins tomorrow, with a day of long meetings of university, college, and department faculty, when we'll all hear about the wonderful plan CSU has for our lives.
October
Is it just me, or does the constant repetition of "Main Street" in financial bailout nooz irresistibly compel thoughts of the Sinclair Lewis novel?*
November
So, Barack Obama.
And, so far, almost assuredly Yes on Prop 8 in California, denying the right of marriage to same-sex couples just months after the California Supreme Court ruled that such a ban was unconstitutionally prejudicial.
December
Dear Mr. Claus,
As you are no doubt aware, our Governor declared a state fiscal emergency today.
January
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
44. Primary seasons. I just love 'em.
February
I collected Lancelot's remains from the vet's office this afternoon.
March
It's spring here. Neener-neener-neener.
In any case, it's also the time of year when we celebrate a pair of
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
April
The kittens now have names. They've also had their first vet visit.
May
My loveliest is off at some sort of bridal brunch kinda thing, so I'm here with the monster kittens (as of this writing, Arthur is in the middle of a freakout session; Alexander is eating us out of house and home) and a stack of papers to grade.
June
At some point, this blog will return to usual programming.
July
One lull later...
Been down to LA and back. We went down to LA for fresh air.
August
I don't want to tip my hand much about the plans for my birthday bash on Saturday.
September
The 2008-2009 academic year begins tomorrow, with a day of long meetings of university, college, and department faculty, when we'll all hear about the wonderful plan CSU has for our lives.
October
Is it just me, or does the constant repetition of "Main Street" in financial bailout nooz irresistibly compel thoughts of the Sinclair Lewis novel?*
November
So, Barack Obama.
And, so far, almost assuredly Yes on Prop 8 in California, denying the right of marriage to same-sex couples just months after the California Supreme Court ruled that such a ban was unconstitutionally prejudicial.
December
Dear Mr. Claus,
As you are no doubt aware, our Governor declared a state fiscal emergency today.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
what's good for GM is -
ahh, to hell with it
So, Ford, Chrysler, and GM walk into a bar...
No, that's not it. Or maybe.
Anyway, GM testified to Congress today that (1) if GM is allowed to collapse, there will be widespread damage to the US economy, (2) GM needs $12 billion to keep afloat, including $4 billion right away, (3) GM plans to cut 20,000 to 30,000 jobs, and (4) GM plans to get concessions from UAW. Like Ford, GM plans to pay its execs a buck as salary, and to quit flying corporate jets around. That, apparently, is management's concession.
Prior to 2005, GM employed 181,000 people in the US. Back then, if anybody remembers, GM had a problem because of rising oil costs and their ridiculous insistence on building gas-guzzlers. But they had a plan to correct their bad financial strain - laying off 25,000 workers. So now, the plan is, with $12 billion from all of us, GM will - do the same goddamn thing again.
In corporate America, incredibly bad foresight is always rewarded by somebody helping you out. It looks like good business, apparently, to cut jobs instead of executive compensation (if you pay your top exec 300 times what a line-worker makes, you effectively cut 300 jobs right there).
All this raises serious question whether the major premise of this (so-to-speak) argument is at all plausible. GM now employs far less than half the people it did when it was a significant part of the US economy. Now that so much of auto manufacturing has been outsourced, GM doesn't really contribute much to employment. Let's take the $12 billion GM wants to spend, while throwing an addition 30,000 people out of work, and instead divide the money among all the potentially affected employees, except executives, should GM go belly-up. $12 billion divided among the remaining 156,000 or so. In fact, I'll round that up to 200,000 people. That gives them all a $60,000 severance package, which they can use to go to college or trade school, live off of while they look for work, pay moving expenses, whatever. GM is out of the taxpayers' hair, no more corporate jet flights because there won't be a corporation, and a handful of failed execs in the street with tin cups.
No, that's not it. Or maybe.
Anyway, GM testified to Congress today that (1) if GM is allowed to collapse, there will be widespread damage to the US economy, (2) GM needs $12 billion to keep afloat, including $4 billion right away, (3) GM plans to cut 20,000 to 30,000 jobs, and (4) GM plans to get concessions from UAW. Like Ford, GM plans to pay its execs a buck as salary, and to quit flying corporate jets around. That, apparently, is management's concession.
Prior to 2005, GM employed 181,000 people in the US. Back then, if anybody remembers, GM had a problem because of rising oil costs and their ridiculous insistence on building gas-guzzlers. But they had a plan to correct their bad financial strain - laying off 25,000 workers. So now, the plan is, with $12 billion from all of us, GM will - do the same goddamn thing again.
In corporate America, incredibly bad foresight is always rewarded by somebody helping you out. It looks like good business, apparently, to cut jobs instead of executive compensation (if you pay your top exec 300 times what a line-worker makes, you effectively cut 300 jobs right there).
All this raises serious question whether the major premise of this (so-to-speak) argument is at all plausible. GM now employs far less than half the people it did when it was a significant part of the US economy. Now that so much of auto manufacturing has been outsourced, GM doesn't really contribute much to employment. Let's take the $12 billion GM wants to spend, while throwing an addition 30,000 people out of work, and instead divide the money among all the potentially affected employees, except executives, should GM go belly-up. $12 billion divided among the remaining 156,000 or so. In fact, I'll round that up to 200,000 people. That gives them all a $60,000 severance package, which they can use to go to college or trade school, live off of while they look for work, pay moving expenses, whatever. GM is out of the taxpayers' hair, no more corporate jet flights because there won't be a corporation, and a handful of failed execs in the street with tin cups.
Monday, December 01, 2008
another open letter to Santa
Dear Mr. Claus,
As you are no doubt aware, our Governor declared a state fiscal emergency today. This will prompt a special session of the legislature to find some solution to the current budget crisis. Unfortunately, as you know, the CSU is one of the few areas of the budget where spending discretion permits the state to slash budgets. The CSU budget represents less than 2% of the state budget, and the state's deficit is projected to be over $11 billion this year - or more than three times more than the entire CSU budget.
This urgent situation demands immediate resolution, and so I am writing to repeat and reaffirm my request for $6 bajillion for the CSU. The justification for this request was detailed in my previous letter. I shall only re-state here the most salient point, which is that the CSU does nice things for the state. I am aware of no reasons why the CSU should be regarded as naughty, and hence no reasons why my request, made in due course and within an appropriate timeframe, should be rejected.
I am sure that you are also aware of the recent decision by the CSU Board of Trustees to increase compensation for executives and hire additional executives. Although this is admittedly awkward timing, given the CSU's decision to re-open the salary article of the faculty contract, and given the shortage of funding in general and the threats of cuts, I categorically deny that this is indicative of naughtiness by the CSU. The university continues to educate hundreds of thousands of students for the good of the public, and this momentary lapse of good judgment is merely incidental and not pertinent. (See Moretti v. Templeton, Ca. Su. Ct. #1909-99-7134.)
Therefore, absent any finding or evidence provided to the contrary, I expect my request for $6 bajillion for the CSU to be fulfilled on or around 25 December 2008.
Sincerely,
Chris Nagel
As you are no doubt aware, our Governor declared a state fiscal emergency today. This will prompt a special session of the legislature to find some solution to the current budget crisis. Unfortunately, as you know, the CSU is one of the few areas of the budget where spending discretion permits the state to slash budgets. The CSU budget represents less than 2% of the state budget, and the state's deficit is projected to be over $11 billion this year - or more than three times more than the entire CSU budget.
This urgent situation demands immediate resolution, and so I am writing to repeat and reaffirm my request for $6 bajillion for the CSU. The justification for this request was detailed in my previous letter. I shall only re-state here the most salient point, which is that the CSU does nice things for the state. I am aware of no reasons why the CSU should be regarded as naughty, and hence no reasons why my request, made in due course and within an appropriate timeframe, should be rejected.
I am sure that you are also aware of the recent decision by the CSU Board of Trustees to increase compensation for executives and hire additional executives. Although this is admittedly awkward timing, given the CSU's decision to re-open the salary article of the faculty contract, and given the shortage of funding in general and the threats of cuts, I categorically deny that this is indicative of naughtiness by the CSU. The university continues to educate hundreds of thousands of students for the good of the public, and this momentary lapse of good judgment is merely incidental and not pertinent. (See Moretti v. Templeton, Ca. Su. Ct. #1909-99-7134.)
Therefore, absent any finding or evidence provided to the contrary, I expect my request for $6 bajillion for the CSU to be fulfilled on or around 25 December 2008.
Sincerely,
Chris Nagel
Friday, November 21, 2008
an open letter to Santa
Dear Mr. Claus,
I am writing you to request, as a Christmas gift, funding for the California State University in the amount of six bajillion dollars. It is my contention that this gift is well-deserved and needed, that the CSU collectively and I personally have met a reasonable standard of being good, and that supplying this gift will promote and provide the resources for the CSU and myself to continue being good.
First of all, it should be plain that the CSU is in dire need of six bajillion dollars. State funding has been decreasing in relation to real financial needs of the University for many years, due in part to the political climate in the legislature. Their intransigence and partisanship, clearly rising to naughty levels, have resulted in chronic underfunding of higher education.
Despite this, the faculty and staff of the CSU have continued to educate more students each year. Our dedication to students and to the cause of education are demonstrated by our efforts to support and defend the CSU. Personally, I have spoken out on numerous occasions and rallied with my colleagues in the California Faculty Association in protest against budget cuts and student fee increases. Meanwhile, I remain passionately devoted to teaching, as you are, no doubt, aware.
I freely grant that neither I nor the University are always at our best. I have made mistakes in the past year, but I maintain that at no time have I acted with malicious intent - not even that thing about the guy and the thing, you know what I'm alluding to. The truth is, I meant well.
Likewise, the CSU always aims at providing the best education it can. Some of our higher level administrators and executives act in ways that are hard to explain; however, I do not stipulate that these actions are in fact or intent naughty. Further, the University's overall level of niceness clearly and overwhelmingly outweighs the alleged naughtiness of a few (see Harper v. Delbon, Ca.Su.Ct. 2001-0104).
Six bajillion dollars is a very large gift, but it is neither excessive nor inappropriate. The University would use these funds to assure access to high-quality education for the public, and unused portions of the gift would be held in reserve to use for later needs. Apportionment and allocation of the gift would be regularly reported through the University's accounting firm, so there should be no question of the gift going to good use.
I advise you that the details, ways and means, and weights and measures of this request are still to be negotiated. I look forward to your reply.
Sincerely,
Chris Nagel
I am writing you to request, as a Christmas gift, funding for the California State University in the amount of six bajillion dollars. It is my contention that this gift is well-deserved and needed, that the CSU collectively and I personally have met a reasonable standard of being good, and that supplying this gift will promote and provide the resources for the CSU and myself to continue being good.
First of all, it should be plain that the CSU is in dire need of six bajillion dollars. State funding has been decreasing in relation to real financial needs of the University for many years, due in part to the political climate in the legislature. Their intransigence and partisanship, clearly rising to naughty levels, have resulted in chronic underfunding of higher education.
Despite this, the faculty and staff of the CSU have continued to educate more students each year. Our dedication to students and to the cause of education are demonstrated by our efforts to support and defend the CSU. Personally, I have spoken out on numerous occasions and rallied with my colleagues in the California Faculty Association in protest against budget cuts and student fee increases. Meanwhile, I remain passionately devoted to teaching, as you are, no doubt, aware.
I freely grant that neither I nor the University are always at our best. I have made mistakes in the past year, but I maintain that at no time have I acted with malicious intent - not even that thing about the guy and the thing, you know what I'm alluding to. The truth is, I meant well.
Likewise, the CSU always aims at providing the best education it can. Some of our higher level administrators and executives act in ways that are hard to explain; however, I do not stipulate that these actions are in fact or intent naughty. Further, the University's overall level of niceness clearly and overwhelmingly outweighs the alleged naughtiness of a few (see Harper v. Delbon, Ca.Su.Ct. 2001-0104).
Six bajillion dollars is a very large gift, but it is neither excessive nor inappropriate. The University would use these funds to assure access to high-quality education for the public, and unused portions of the gift would be held in reserve to use for later needs. Apportionment and allocation of the gift would be regularly reported through the University's accounting firm, so there should be no question of the gift going to good use.
I advise you that the details, ways and means, and weights and measures of this request are still to be negotiated. I look forward to your reply.
Sincerely,
Chris Nagel
Thursday, November 20, 2008
an open letter to the governor
Dear Governor Schwarzenegger,
I realize you have difficult choices to make during this fiscal and economic crisis. As a member of the California Faculty Association, and a member of the Alliance for the CSU, I have already let you know that I believe cutting the budget for the CSU is a shortsighted and ultimately destructive move. The CSU contributes to the state's economy. It's the best, most secure investment the public can make.
It's important that you have all the information pertinent to these decisions, and that is the reason I'm writing to you today.
I earned a PhD in philosophy at Duquesne University in 1996. I have taught philosophy at CSU Stanislaus for 10 years. Teaching philosophy may not make any direct, sizable contribution to the economy, and I can't say I'm responsible for much economic growth, but I am at least a marginally functional member of society, and a taxpayer.
Cuts to the CSU budget would threaten my job. Since what I teach is philosophy, I'm sure you'll recognize that I clearly have no marketable skills outside of higher education. Certainly corporate America has no place for me.
I would have no choice but to turn to a life of crime. I would be forced out of quasi-productive employment into anomic, desperate felony. From being somewhat-less-than-thoroughly-useless to the many students at the CSU, I would be thrust out into the world, totally unhinged, having utterly lost any sense of right and wrong, and with no prospects for any job (did I mention: philosophy), would simply have to begin burgling, thieving, and mugging.
I hasten to point out that, although I have no criminal record, I do have some relevant experience, particularly of picking locks, breaking & entering, vandalism, petty larceny, and loitering and vagrancy.
I don't mean to threaten anything, of course. I just wanted to make sure you were properly informed about the potential impact of the fiscal choices you and the legislature have to make.
Thank you for your consideration,
Chris Nagel, PhD
I mean, consider these options:
I don't want any of those. I'm not angry/crazy enough, for starters.
I realize you have difficult choices to make during this fiscal and economic crisis. As a member of the California Faculty Association, and a member of the Alliance for the CSU, I have already let you know that I believe cutting the budget for the CSU is a shortsighted and ultimately destructive move. The CSU contributes to the state's economy. It's the best, most secure investment the public can make.
It's important that you have all the information pertinent to these decisions, and that is the reason I'm writing to you today.
I earned a PhD in philosophy at Duquesne University in 1996. I have taught philosophy at CSU Stanislaus for 10 years. Teaching philosophy may not make any direct, sizable contribution to the economy, and I can't say I'm responsible for much economic growth, but I am at least a marginally functional member of society, and a taxpayer.
Cuts to the CSU budget would threaten my job. Since what I teach is philosophy, I'm sure you'll recognize that I clearly have no marketable skills outside of higher education. Certainly corporate America has no place for me.
I would have no choice but to turn to a life of crime. I would be forced out of quasi-productive employment into anomic, desperate felony. From being somewhat-less-than-thoroughly-useless to the many students at the CSU, I would be thrust out into the world, totally unhinged, having utterly lost any sense of right and wrong, and with no prospects for any job (did I mention: philosophy), would simply have to begin burgling, thieving, and mugging.
I hasten to point out that, although I have no criminal record, I do have some relevant experience, particularly of picking locks, breaking & entering, vandalism, petty larceny, and loitering and vagrancy.
I don't mean to threaten anything, of course. I just wanted to make sure you were properly informed about the potential impact of the fiscal choices you and the legislature have to make.
Thank you for your consideration,
Chris Nagel, PhD
I mean, consider these options:
I don't want any of those. I'm not angry/crazy enough, for starters.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
an item from the ongoing series
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
15. Collective actions. I just love 'em.
I've spent the better part of the semester, and particularly the better part of the past week, involved in one collective action or another. Most of these were efforts to resist draconian budget cuts at the university - mostly in response to the local administration's decision to cut $1.5 million from the base budgets of academic departments to balance a budget they have been anything but forthcoming about. That effort has apparently led to the restoration of (at last count) about 80% of that budget.
Today I spent several hours helping to gather signatories to faxes to be sent to the governor and party leaders in both houses of the legislature. The university still faces the prospect of around $98 million in cuts during this academic year.
The faculty also face a re-opener of the contract we finally settled after 2 years, and the administration's opening offer was to eliminate the salary raises we spent so much time and effort winning. More collective action on that front, I figure, to follow.
Last Saturday, to take a break from all this, we went to a collective action in Modesto to protest Prop. 8. Apparently, it was the biggest such rally in Modesto over the issue of sex-based marriage discrimination. It seemed like the number of people honking car horns and yelling and whooping favorably was about two to three times higher than the number flipping us off or yelling insults.
We may lose all these fights. The Board of Trustees may vote to raise student fees, blame faculty raises (that we may not even receive) for the fee increase, and turn around and raise executive pay. Prop. 8 may stand, despite what seems like obviously unconstitutional discrimination. But what else can I do? Even if I'm going to lose, I have to fight, because there just isn't any other way to try to defend myself and what I value. Grim hope, I suppose.
15. Collective actions. I just love 'em.
I've spent the better part of the semester, and particularly the better part of the past week, involved in one collective action or another. Most of these were efforts to resist draconian budget cuts at the university - mostly in response to the local administration's decision to cut $1.5 million from the base budgets of academic departments to balance a budget they have been anything but forthcoming about. That effort has apparently led to the restoration of (at last count) about 80% of that budget.
Today I spent several hours helping to gather signatories to faxes to be sent to the governor and party leaders in both houses of the legislature. The university still faces the prospect of around $98 million in cuts during this academic year.
The faculty also face a re-opener of the contract we finally settled after 2 years, and the administration's opening offer was to eliminate the salary raises we spent so much time and effort winning. More collective action on that front, I figure, to follow.
Last Saturday, to take a break from all this, we went to a collective action in Modesto to protest Prop. 8. Apparently, it was the biggest such rally in Modesto over the issue of sex-based marriage discrimination. It seemed like the number of people honking car horns and yelling and whooping favorably was about two to three times higher than the number flipping us off or yelling insults.
We may lose all these fights. The Board of Trustees may vote to raise student fees, blame faculty raises (that we may not even receive) for the fee increase, and turn around and raise executive pay. Prop. 8 may stand, despite what seems like obviously unconstitutional discrimination. But what else can I do? Even if I'm going to lose, I have to fight, because there just isn't any other way to try to defend myself and what I value. Grim hope, I suppose.
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