One lull later...
Been down to LA and back. We went down to LA for fresh air. The smoke from the wildfires was so thick last week that you really couldn't see down the road. I went for a typical lengthy summer walk one morning, and was sick the rest of the day. The weather in LA was lovely, the skies blue. Now we're back. 'sokay.
NHL free agency period began July 1. Penguins losing key players left and right.
This morning I rooted through my Yahoo bulk message folder, and found two comments sent by my loyal readers had been sent to purgatory. Yahoo email either is or ought to be notorious for misdirecting mail as spam and spam as mail. Anyway, straightened that out.
Results aren't in yet, but I've been fooling around with alternate guitar tunings. I was playing them on an old beater I bought for my office, and was getting a tad sick of the way it sounded. I brought it down to LA with us, played it in all kinds of odd tunings, retuned it to standard, played at Lauren's grandmother's weekly Saturday family gathering, and complained every so often about the sound and the difficulty of the action. I started talking about wanting a better 6-string steel string guitar.
On Sunday, after retuning it for the sixth or twelfth time the D string snapped. I restrung it, which turned out to be an ironic act, because Monday I finally decided that enough was enough, and we took it to a Sam Ash in Torrance and traded it in on a spanking-new Takamine.
I am now the proud owner of said guitar, which hasn't a name yet. I'm getting used to the sound and the feel of a steel 6-string, because although it's the most common kind of guitar, I've had least experience playing them. It's like a new toy. No, I suppose it is a new toy.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
heroes
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
23. Heroes. I just love 'em.
George Carlin's death has me thinking about heroes, strangely, because in the grand scheme of things, Carlin wasn't a hero of mine, though he was close. I respected him a lot, and to me, he was incredibly funny. He was at the center of a landmark free speech/obscenity case, but wasn't really a participant - more the occasion or object.
I don't tend to regard heroes as paragons of virtue, or necessarily morally righteous. This is lucky for me, because I don't think any of mine would pass a virtue/righteousness test. I'm just whipping this out, so I might glaringly omit someone, but let's see if I can list them.
Lenny Bruce. Lenny was not only involved in a landmark free speech/obscenity case, but the only person ever convicted of obscenity in the US for any performance or publication not containing pornographic images (depending on your perspective, I suppose). His final appeal was granted posthumously. In any case, Lenny's act, and to a large degree his everyday behavior (if reports are, in the main, honest), focused on the moral contradictions of American culture and social life, by which he was in turns amused and horrified. And he made it all funny, until he stopped being funny. Lenny Bruce is such a hero to me, I even like his stuff after he stopped being a comic and became Lenny Bruce instead.
John Fahey. For my money, Fahey's guitar playing is the weirdest there could be, not because his playing techniques were particularly odd, but because his musical sensibilities and impulses were fundamentally crackers. I wouldn't say I aspire to play like Fahey. I don't think I'll ever be as good (even though Fahey wasn't really a technical virtuoso), but I'll never be that creative. Fahey also wrote bizarre, if not actually insane, rambling quasi-autobiographical screeds, some of which are published as a book called How Bluegrass Music Destroyed My Life.
Frank Lloyd Wright. Almost everything Wright said about architecture, especially his own, was either an outright lie or self-promotional puffery. I don't care. He was reportedly mercurial in his relationships with other people, often instantly enraged by loved ones, employees, and employers. I don't care. He blithely ignored clients' design requirements or preferences, and imposed his own style, proportion, and uncomfortable furniture on them. I don't care. His places are drafty and they leak. I don't care. I can't go near or into a building designed by Frank Lloyd Wright without feeling whole, solid, ready, aware, lively, and inspired. They don't have to be particularly similar for this to happen, either: Fallingwater packs a huge wallop, but I feel much the same at the Marin County Civic Center.
Julia Child. I cut my teeth on Julia Child's cooking shows on TV when I was a kid. One of my earliest satirical ideas was a spoof of her shows, combined with Monty Hall's old joint, to be called Let's Bake A Seal. Her actual life story is pretty amazing. She was a defense intelligence agent after World War II, fell in love with another defense intelligence agent, who ended up stationed in Paris (I think under cover). So she played housewife awhile, got bored, and went to the Cordon Bleu cooking school. They came back to the states, and eventually she started teaching people to cook on TV. She made mistakes, she dropped stuff, and she wrote and showed you how to fix things when things went wrong. She was a brilliant cook, fearless but not flawless, and her recipes always work (even if they cheat somewhat).
John Meyer. After a year of being thoroughly bored in eighth grade, my junior high school put me in the higher level courses, which I think were called GT classes, for ninth. So it was that I had 9th grade US history with John Meyer, late morning, in a trailer out behind the main classroom building. In that trailer, he taught a lesson one particularly stifling hot, humid late spring morning, by turning the classroom into a sweatshop, dividing the class into production lines, and requiring us to manufacture "Happy Books." This was too much for the upper-middle-class white girls to handle, and the complaints came in from their folks. They hated him. I had a sudden realization that I wanted to teach for a living. I had AP European History with him in high school, which wasn't as revelatory, but was still one of a handful of classes that were taught by people who showed any respect at all for the emerging intellects of the students.
Tom Waits. If I could write lyrics like anybody I chose, it'd be like Tom Waits (and I suppose Kathleen Brennan, since they write most things together). If I could make music any way I liked, I would make music like Waits' - not the particular style, not all the racket, but the sheer fuckitity of his approach. He described what he started to do with music around 1990 or so as taking away all the stuff that's obviously musical, and making music out of what's left over. I admire the bejezus out of that. I wish I could do that. (Sometimes it happens when I teach, I think. It's cool as hell.)
Of course I've had other heroes, mainly hockey players like Mike Palmateer, but that was as a kid. I suppose some people outgrow having heroes at some point. I haven't, and I don't think I will (Fahey just became a hero a couple years ago).
23. Heroes. I just love 'em.
George Carlin's death has me thinking about heroes, strangely, because in the grand scheme of things, Carlin wasn't a hero of mine, though he was close. I respected him a lot, and to me, he was incredibly funny. He was at the center of a landmark free speech/obscenity case, but wasn't really a participant - more the occasion or object.
I don't tend to regard heroes as paragons of virtue, or necessarily morally righteous. This is lucky for me, because I don't think any of mine would pass a virtue/righteousness test. I'm just whipping this out, so I might glaringly omit someone, but let's see if I can list them.
Lenny Bruce. Lenny was not only involved in a landmark free speech/obscenity case, but the only person ever convicted of obscenity in the US for any performance or publication not containing pornographic images (depending on your perspective, I suppose). His final appeal was granted posthumously. In any case, Lenny's act, and to a large degree his everyday behavior (if reports are, in the main, honest), focused on the moral contradictions of American culture and social life, by which he was in turns amused and horrified. And he made it all funny, until he stopped being funny. Lenny Bruce is such a hero to me, I even like his stuff after he stopped being a comic and became Lenny Bruce instead.
John Fahey. For my money, Fahey's guitar playing is the weirdest there could be, not because his playing techniques were particularly odd, but because his musical sensibilities and impulses were fundamentally crackers. I wouldn't say I aspire to play like Fahey. I don't think I'll ever be as good (even though Fahey wasn't really a technical virtuoso), but I'll never be that creative. Fahey also wrote bizarre, if not actually insane, rambling quasi-autobiographical screeds, some of which are published as a book called How Bluegrass Music Destroyed My Life.
Frank Lloyd Wright. Almost everything Wright said about architecture, especially his own, was either an outright lie or self-promotional puffery. I don't care. He was reportedly mercurial in his relationships with other people, often instantly enraged by loved ones, employees, and employers. I don't care. He blithely ignored clients' design requirements or preferences, and imposed his own style, proportion, and uncomfortable furniture on them. I don't care. His places are drafty and they leak. I don't care. I can't go near or into a building designed by Frank Lloyd Wright without feeling whole, solid, ready, aware, lively, and inspired. They don't have to be particularly similar for this to happen, either: Fallingwater packs a huge wallop, but I feel much the same at the Marin County Civic Center.
Julia Child. I cut my teeth on Julia Child's cooking shows on TV when I was a kid. One of my earliest satirical ideas was a spoof of her shows, combined with Monty Hall's old joint, to be called Let's Bake A Seal. Her actual life story is pretty amazing. She was a defense intelligence agent after World War II, fell in love with another defense intelligence agent, who ended up stationed in Paris (I think under cover). So she played housewife awhile, got bored, and went to the Cordon Bleu cooking school. They came back to the states, and eventually she started teaching people to cook on TV. She made mistakes, she dropped stuff, and she wrote and showed you how to fix things when things went wrong. She was a brilliant cook, fearless but not flawless, and her recipes always work (even if they cheat somewhat).
John Meyer. After a year of being thoroughly bored in eighth grade, my junior high school put me in the higher level courses, which I think were called GT classes, for ninth. So it was that I had 9th grade US history with John Meyer, late morning, in a trailer out behind the main classroom building. In that trailer, he taught a lesson one particularly stifling hot, humid late spring morning, by turning the classroom into a sweatshop, dividing the class into production lines, and requiring us to manufacture "Happy Books." This was too much for the upper-middle-class white girls to handle, and the complaints came in from their folks. They hated him. I had a sudden realization that I wanted to teach for a living. I had AP European History with him in high school, which wasn't as revelatory, but was still one of a handful of classes that were taught by people who showed any respect at all for the emerging intellects of the students.
Tom Waits. If I could write lyrics like anybody I chose, it'd be like Tom Waits (and I suppose Kathleen Brennan, since they write most things together). If I could make music any way I liked, I would make music like Waits' - not the particular style, not all the racket, but the sheer fuckitity of his approach. He described what he started to do with music around 1990 or so as taking away all the stuff that's obviously musical, and making music out of what's left over. I admire the bejezus out of that. I wish I could do that. (Sometimes it happens when I teach, I think. It's cool as hell.)
Of course I've had other heroes, mainly hockey players like Mike Palmateer, but that was as a kid. I suppose some people outgrow having heroes at some point. I haven't, and I don't think I will (Fahey just became a hero a couple years ago).
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
but now for some lighter news
People living under rocks may not have heard yet that California's Supreme Court ruled that everyone, regardless of gender or sex, should have the right to marry any other consenting adult. Same-sex marriages became legal as of 5:01 pm yesterday.
As a result, my loveliest and I have come out of the closet. Yep, we're married. We've been married for just over two years. Lauren tells the compleat story in her blog, so go read that. It's okay, I'll wait here...
Dum dee-dum, dumbledy dum... Hmm.
Hoo-hah shamma-shamma tiddle-ee-dah. Whum-pa pah-dee-oo-skiddly-doo-dat spah! Oobly-scoobly-oo-bap-sh-bim-
uh... Shit, I didn't expect you back so soon. It's so embarrassing getting caught in the middle of private scat singing.
I still have grave misgivings about the institution of marriage. I didn't think much about the discriminatory practice of legal marriage versus domestic partnership until about 7 or 8 years ago, when voters in California approved Prop 22, "The Defense of Marriage Act," which was a purely symbolic act defining marriage as between a man and a woman. No county in the state was permitting same-sex marriage, so the proposition didn't change anything. It just gave a bunch of assholes the opportunity to be assholes.
My long-term objections to marriage have been less related to justice. I have never wanted to be married, in part because of my iconoclastic allergy to social institutions generally, but in larger part because of what I regard as the baggage of tradition that comes along with it. Marriage is just too culturally heavy. When you are introduced as a husband, for instance, a whole string of additional characteristics, roles, attitudes, and ways of relating are presumptively attributed to you. Sure, some particular person, who knows us well, would know that we don't play our roles quite straight, but the cultural norm and the general expectation is that "married" fits both persons into neatly, unproblematically defined categorical boxes.
(As long as I'm confessing to being married, I might as well also confess that I generally take out the trash, pay the bills, file the taxes, and I'm the primary bread-winner. On the other hand, I'm also the primary bread-baker, as well as cook, kitchen cleaner, and vaccuumer.)
I resent being put in a box. (This is one of my most cat-like characteristics. If I want to be in the box, I'll go get in the box myself. I don't need the likes of you putting me in the damn box! Now gimme some damn catnip!)
Now that California isn't discriminating against people when it comes to marriage, there's less of a pressing reason to hide the fact that we are married, and moreover, there's an opportunity to make the point, again, that this discrimination is immoral. Plus, same-sex marriage isn't entirely safe yet. A group of maniacs is trying to put a constitutional amendment on the November ballot to ban same-sex marriage.
As a result, my loveliest and I have come out of the closet. Yep, we're married. We've been married for just over two years. Lauren tells the compleat story in her blog, so go read that. It's okay, I'll wait here...
Dum dee-dum, dumbledy dum... Hmm.
Hoo-hah shamma-shamma tiddle-ee-dah. Whum-pa pah-dee-oo-skiddly-doo-dat spah! Oobly-scoobly-oo-bap-sh-bim-
uh... Shit, I didn't expect you back so soon. It's so embarrassing getting caught in the middle of private scat singing.
I still have grave misgivings about the institution of marriage. I didn't think much about the discriminatory practice of legal marriage versus domestic partnership until about 7 or 8 years ago, when voters in California approved Prop 22, "The Defense of Marriage Act," which was a purely symbolic act defining marriage as between a man and a woman. No county in the state was permitting same-sex marriage, so the proposition didn't change anything. It just gave a bunch of assholes the opportunity to be assholes.
My long-term objections to marriage have been less related to justice. I have never wanted to be married, in part because of my iconoclastic allergy to social institutions generally, but in larger part because of what I regard as the baggage of tradition that comes along with it. Marriage is just too culturally heavy. When you are introduced as a husband, for instance, a whole string of additional characteristics, roles, attitudes, and ways of relating are presumptively attributed to you. Sure, some particular person, who knows us well, would know that we don't play our roles quite straight, but the cultural norm and the general expectation is that "married" fits both persons into neatly, unproblematically defined categorical boxes.
(As long as I'm confessing to being married, I might as well also confess that I generally take out the trash, pay the bills, file the taxes, and I'm the primary bread-winner. On the other hand, I'm also the primary bread-baker, as well as cook, kitchen cleaner, and vaccuumer.)
I resent being put in a box. (This is one of my most cat-like characteristics. If I want to be in the box, I'll go get in the box myself. I don't need the likes of you putting me in the damn box! Now gimme some damn catnip!)
Now that California isn't discriminating against people when it comes to marriage, there's less of a pressing reason to hide the fact that we are married, and moreover, there's an opportunity to make the point, again, that this discrimination is immoral. Plus, same-sex marriage isn't entirely safe yet. A group of maniacs is trying to put a constitutional amendment on the November ballot to ban same-sex marriage.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
horrible news item
Well, this is just unspeakably awful. I don't have anything to say about it, it's not about me in any way, except that I live in Turlock, and I'm not prone to fits of anonymous pathos in any case. But it's striking, and it's leaving a kind of rottenness in my head, and so, I decided to share this story of totally revolting inhumanity from the Modesto Bee.
Before you click on the link: this ain't a joke. It's just horrible.
Before you click on the link: this ain't a joke. It's just horrible.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
weather report
We have two side bets going on this summer's weather. We've each picked the number of days we predict the temperature to reach or exceed 100 degrees, and we've each picked the number of deaths that will be blamed on heat. I realize the latter is ghoulish, but it's a way of coping.
Historically, the Central Valley could count on around 14-18 days of 100+ degrees every summer. Last year there were 28. The year before there were around 25. This year it's looking like it's going to be the hottest summer ever recorded here. Yesterday was the fifth day of 100 degree weather already, and this isn't the hot part of the year.
Meanwhile, the Gov issued a drought emergency last month, after the driest spring ever, and has now issued a state water emergency. What this does is allow for quick transfers of water from municipal systems that supply residential drinking water into the aqueducts and canals that serve agriculture. So the "water emergency" plan is a plan to find ways to use more water, not conserve it.
If you think there's an ironic twist to this story that I'm about to reveal, then DING DING DING! You win!
The Central Valley is the agricultural heart of the state, and in some ways of the nation and the world. To achieve this, in what is basically an arid seasonal grassland, the rivers that feed the San Joaquin are all dammed to form a tremendous series of reservoirs. Those reservoirs feed canals, generally open trenches, that stretch down the hills into the valley, which ranchers and farmers tap to flood irrigate. Flood irrigation is an ancient, inefficient method of watering crops by, as the name suggests, flooding the ground with water and letting it seep in (in this climate, this means a whole lot of evaporation loss, but that's another story).
The irrigated water seeps through the ground, waters the parched roots of almond trees and tomatoes and whatnot, and eventually reaches the groundwater table. This used to be just a couple dozen feet down, but after droughts in the late 80s and early 90s, it fell to just above its record low, where it has remained, through wet and dry years, ever since (it recovered somewhat during the huge El Niño year, but has sank rapidly since). Up and down the Valley, municipal water departments dig wells to tap the groundwater to feed to residents as drinking water. So you see the pattern: dam the rivers, irrigate the fields, the water sinks into the groundwater, it's pumped up, and we drink it (the health implications of our drinking this water are another story).
In other words, the water emergency declaration allows rapid transfer of water from the municipal systems, pumping groundwater up from wells dug to reach the water table which is replenished by irrigation of crops from reservoirs, and we're doing this because there's not enough water in the reservoirs. Not only will we be depleting the groundwater by tapping it to supply agricultural irrigation that we rely on to supply the groundwater, but we'll be recirculating the groundwater through all the petrochemicals that the ag biz dumps onto crops out here!
This will all work out fine, of course, as long as we have 5 or 6 winters in a row of well-above-normal snowfall in the Sierras - a pattern of weather that we can count on every 50 or 60 years or so.
Historically, the Central Valley could count on around 14-18 days of 100+ degrees every summer. Last year there were 28. The year before there were around 25. This year it's looking like it's going to be the hottest summer ever recorded here. Yesterday was the fifth day of 100 degree weather already, and this isn't the hot part of the year.
Meanwhile, the Gov issued a drought emergency last month, after the driest spring ever, and has now issued a state water emergency. What this does is allow for quick transfers of water from municipal systems that supply residential drinking water into the aqueducts and canals that serve agriculture. So the "water emergency" plan is a plan to find ways to use more water, not conserve it.
If you think there's an ironic twist to this story that I'm about to reveal, then DING DING DING! You win!
The Central Valley is the agricultural heart of the state, and in some ways of the nation and the world. To achieve this, in what is basically an arid seasonal grassland, the rivers that feed the San Joaquin are all dammed to form a tremendous series of reservoirs. Those reservoirs feed canals, generally open trenches, that stretch down the hills into the valley, which ranchers and farmers tap to flood irrigate. Flood irrigation is an ancient, inefficient method of watering crops by, as the name suggests, flooding the ground with water and letting it seep in (in this climate, this means a whole lot of evaporation loss, but that's another story).
The irrigated water seeps through the ground, waters the parched roots of almond trees and tomatoes and whatnot, and eventually reaches the groundwater table. This used to be just a couple dozen feet down, but after droughts in the late 80s and early 90s, it fell to just above its record low, where it has remained, through wet and dry years, ever since (it recovered somewhat during the huge El Niño year, but has sank rapidly since). Up and down the Valley, municipal water departments dig wells to tap the groundwater to feed to residents as drinking water. So you see the pattern: dam the rivers, irrigate the fields, the water sinks into the groundwater, it's pumped up, and we drink it (the health implications of our drinking this water are another story).
In other words, the water emergency declaration allows rapid transfer of water from the municipal systems, pumping groundwater up from wells dug to reach the water table which is replenished by irrigation of crops from reservoirs, and we're doing this because there's not enough water in the reservoirs. Not only will we be depleting the groundwater by tapping it to supply agricultural irrigation that we rely on to supply the groundwater, but we'll be recirculating the groundwater through all the petrochemicals that the ag biz dumps onto crops out here!
This will all work out fine, of course, as long as we have 5 or 6 winters in a row of well-above-normal snowfall in the Sierras - a pattern of weather that we can count on every 50 or 60 years or so.
Monday, June 09, 2008
california [kăl'ĭ-fôr'nyə], n.
California is a series of paint spills and beautiful, opportunistic cruelties along the West Coast of North America.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
what's that thing?
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
24. Clean kitchens. I just love 'em.
We're down in LA to visit, just around my loveliest's ma Allison's birthday. I roasted a leg of lamb with some potatoes for a belated birthday dinner tonight, and just spent a few minutes scouring the roasting pan. Cleaning a kitchen is satisfying work, for me, because I spend a lot of time making kitchens need to be cleaned. But mainly, I love a clean kitchen.
The roasting pan in question I had propped up in the sink to soak several hours ago. While generally tidying up after our 6th pinochle game of the weekend, I decided to clean the last of the dinner stuff, including the roasting pan. I needn't have. But sitting there on the edge of the sink, it gave me a look that said "Tomorrow morning, I'll be sitting in this sink, and someone waking up - maybe you - will see me sitting here, and I will look so forlorn, so filthy, so recalcitrantly in the way of the faucet, that you'll regret ever having roasted that so-called leg of lamb in me." So I Brilloed the heck outta that roasting pan, leaving the sink, if not clean, at least emptied of dirty dishes and pans.
I especially love a clean kitchen as a thing to walk into in the morning, in search of some form of caffeinated beverage and some form of bread product to call breakfast. Things in place, things clean, things ready to go - this is a special kind of bliss.
24. Clean kitchens. I just love 'em.
We're down in LA to visit, just around my loveliest's ma Allison's birthday. I roasted a leg of lamb with some potatoes for a belated birthday dinner tonight, and just spent a few minutes scouring the roasting pan. Cleaning a kitchen is satisfying work, for me, because I spend a lot of time making kitchens need to be cleaned. But mainly, I love a clean kitchen.
The roasting pan in question I had propped up in the sink to soak several hours ago. While generally tidying up after our 6th pinochle game of the weekend, I decided to clean the last of the dinner stuff, including the roasting pan. I needn't have. But sitting there on the edge of the sink, it gave me a look that said "Tomorrow morning, I'll be sitting in this sink, and someone waking up - maybe you - will see me sitting here, and I will look so forlorn, so filthy, so recalcitrantly in the way of the faucet, that you'll regret ever having roasted that so-called leg of lamb in me." So I Brilloed the heck outta that roasting pan, leaving the sink, if not clean, at least emptied of dirty dishes and pans.
I especially love a clean kitchen as a thing to walk into in the morning, in search of some form of caffeinated beverage and some form of bread product to call breakfast. Things in place, things clean, things ready to go - this is a special kind of bliss.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
another silly meme
At some point, this blog will return to usual programming. The Pittsburgh Penguins lost the Stanley Cup Finals to the Detroit Red Wings, 4 games to 2, last night. Sad ending to an incredibly inspiring season for arguably the team with the greatest young talent in the NHL. They'll be back, in some different configuration. We're just hoping our favorites stay with the team. Some will.
Anyway, this meme has been stolen from No Celery, Please. It doesn't seem to have a title, so I'll call it
Yet Another List of Random Factoids About a Human Being,
In this Case, Me
Accent: Midwest/Northern, altered slightly by natural mimicry and living in North Carolina (8 years), Pittsburgh (8 years) and California (*GULP* nearly 10 years).
Bra size: I don't know. I'll wear a skirt, among friends, but I've never gone full drag.
Chore I hate: Dusting, especially books and bookcases (allergies).
Dad’s name: Carl Richard
Essential make-up: Everything I say is essentially made up.
Favorite perfume: Home-brewed bay rum after shave!
Gold or Silver: Silver.
Hometown: Born in Toledo, raised until 13 in Maumee, Ohio.
Interesting fact: I was, at the time, reportedly the youngest person to earn a Doctorate in Philosophy at Duquesne University.
Job title: Lecturer, Philosophy Department, Cow State Santa Claus
Kids: Pets: Two four-month-old kittens from the same litter. Alexander (Alex, Brutus) and Arthur (Bruno, Honey Bear), a.k.a., The Smothers Brothers, a.k.a., The Katzenjammer Kids, a.k.a. The Flying Kittois Brothers, a.k.a., Boodahs, Monsters, etc., etc.
Living arrangements: Rented town house, 4 litter boxes (trying to work that down to 2)
Mom’s Birthplace: Cincinnati, Ohio.
Number of apples eaten in last week: None. It ain't friggin' apple season!
Overnight hospital stays: None. Hah! Been in the ER a coupla times, once as a kid with a 105 fever.
Phobia: Lightning. Tremendously socially anxious from time to time.
Question you ask yourself a lot: What am I forgetting?
Religious affiliation: Joke answer: Recovering Catholic. Earnest answer: [empty set]
Siblings: One older brother, one older sister.
Time I wake up: Teaching days: 6:30 am. Non-teaching days: depends on the Katzenjammer Kids.
Natural Hair color: Brown.
Vegetable I refuse to eat: I detest Brussels sprouts and lima beans, beets.
Worst habit: Self-loathing
X-rays: Sure, what've you got?
Yummy food I make: How much time have you got? I make a ton of different dishes. Last night: pasta with tomatoes, cannelini beans, olives, fresh basil, feta.
Zodiac sign: Leo, of course.
Anyway, this meme has been stolen from No Celery, Please. It doesn't seem to have a title, so I'll call it
In this Case, Me
Accent: Midwest/Northern, altered slightly by natural mimicry and living in North Carolina (8 years), Pittsburgh (8 years) and California (*GULP* nearly 10 years).
Bra size: I don't know. I'll wear a skirt, among friends, but I've never gone full drag.
Chore I hate: Dusting, especially books and bookcases (allergies).
Dad’s name: Carl Richard
Essential make-up: Everything I say is essentially made up.
Favorite perfume: Home-brewed bay rum after shave!
Gold or Silver: Silver.
Hometown: Born in Toledo, raised until 13 in Maumee, Ohio.
Interesting fact: I was, at the time, reportedly the youngest person to earn a Doctorate in Philosophy at Duquesne University.
Job title: Lecturer, Philosophy Department, Cow State Santa Claus
Living arrangements: Rented town house, 4 litter boxes (trying to work that down to 2)
Mom’s Birthplace: Cincinnati, Ohio.
Number of apples eaten in last week: None. It ain't friggin' apple season!
Overnight hospital stays: None. Hah! Been in the ER a coupla times, once as a kid with a 105 fever.
Phobia: Lightning. Tremendously socially anxious from time to time.
Question you ask yourself a lot: What am I forgetting?
Religious affiliation: Joke answer: Recovering Catholic. Earnest answer: [empty set]
Siblings: One older brother, one older sister.
Time I wake up: Teaching days: 6:30 am. Non-teaching days: depends on the Katzenjammer Kids.
Natural Hair color: Brown.
Vegetable I refuse to eat: I detest Brussels sprouts and lima beans, beets.
Worst habit: Self-loathing
X-rays: Sure, what've you got?
Yummy food I make: How much time have you got? I make a ton of different dishes. Last night: pasta with tomatoes, cannelini beans, olives, fresh basil, feta.
Zodiac sign: Leo, of course.
Friday, May 30, 2008
true and false things about me meme
me, meme-me-me-meme!
The rules of this game are very simple: list 10 odd true facts about yourself, along with 5 odd lies about yourself. Mix 'em up. Serve. Then let readers identify which are the true and which are the false. My loveliest done done it, so now I'm gonna done do it.
1. I became a philosopher in order to impress a woman.
2. I had a paper route in two different states.
3. I've never had a single guitar lesson.
4. I've never had a single cooking lesson.
5. I went to college by accident.
6. I don't really have any phobias.
7. I don't really have any fetishes.
8. My feet are size 13 A, with absolutely no arch.
9. An opthamologist once said that pictures of my astigmatism should be used in textbooks--as an example of just how bad it can get.
10. I never eat breakfast.
11. I dressed grunge six years before anybody knew there was grunge.
12. I loathe eggs but love a lot of foods/sauces made with them.
13. Chewing gum gives me a headache (nevertheless, I sometimes chew gum).
14. I go through periods where I really dislike chocolate--and others where I really love it.
15. I never lie about myself.
1. I became a philosopher in order to impress a woman.
2. I had a paper route in two different states.
3. I've never had a single guitar lesson.
4. I've never had a single cooking lesson.
5. I went to college by accident.
6. I don't really have any phobias.
7. I don't really have any fetishes.
8. My feet are size 13 A, with absolutely no arch.
9. An opthamologist once said that pictures of my astigmatism should be used in textbooks--as an example of just how bad it can get.
10. I never eat breakfast.
11. I dressed grunge six years before anybody knew there was grunge.
12. I loathe eggs but love a lot of foods/sauces made with them.
13. Chewing gum gives me a headache (nevertheless, I sometimes chew gum).
14. I go through periods where I really dislike chocolate--and others where I really love it.
15. I never lie about myself.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
where the hell have I been?
Our buddies Christina (alt. X-ina) and Guerin got hitched this weekend at Ironstone Vineyards up in Murphys, CA. After 100 degree days the week before, it was overcast and drizzly this weekend, so the weather was perfect for an outdoor wedding.
It had the usual snafus weddings have. It started about a half-hour late, which meant that the song we wrote for X-ina, "Christina Sorting Records," played 3 times. It was scheduled as the music for the pre-processional seating of VIPs. The DJ played it promptly at 4, but nobody was ready, so he played it again, and then again once everyone had finally taken their places.
Ironstone has a pretty joint, and they make a couple exemplary wines, from grapes that don't grow on the premises. Ah, the California wine industry. Nothing could serve as a better example of our state, which is actually a series of misconstrued legends, lies, deceptions, and cruel acts of hucksterism.
It was a gorgeous wedding. There was wine a-plenty. Underage drinking. Drunken passes at newly-met acquaintances. Dancing a-go-go. No cake for the bride and groom. Photographers and videographers scattered like bits of confetti all over the place. "Just married" paraphernalia attached to their car. The bridal suite decked out in naughtiness. Lost items. Items left behind and picked up by random relatives and friends. And when we got home, my loveliest decorated their front door with toilet-paper streamers and, I kid you not, toilet-paper bells with clappers and a toilet-paper flower.
Now I'm grading. I've read a handful of Contemporary Moral Issues finals today, their due date, and this is strange, because it's only a handful, and it is now nearly 6 pm and I'm missing around 2/3 of their finals. They also had a question-and-answer journal on the assigned articles, which was due last Wednesday, and I'm missing 2/3 of those as well. Students, notoriously, don't follow instructions. I've thought of simply no longer giving instructions, and taking the Zen approach of accepting as their work whatever they decide to turn in, and applying evaluation criteria to it accordingly.
It had the usual snafus weddings have. It started about a half-hour late, which meant that the song we wrote for X-ina, "Christina Sorting Records," played 3 times. It was scheduled as the music for the pre-processional seating of VIPs. The DJ played it promptly at 4, but nobody was ready, so he played it again, and then again once everyone had finally taken their places.
Ironstone has a pretty joint, and they make a couple exemplary wines, from grapes that don't grow on the premises. Ah, the California wine industry. Nothing could serve as a better example of our state, which is actually a series of misconstrued legends, lies, deceptions, and cruel acts of hucksterism.
It was a gorgeous wedding. There was wine a-plenty. Underage drinking. Drunken passes at newly-met acquaintances. Dancing a-go-go. No cake for the bride and groom. Photographers and videographers scattered like bits of confetti all over the place. "Just married" paraphernalia attached to their car. The bridal suite decked out in naughtiness. Lost items. Items left behind and picked up by random relatives and friends. And when we got home, my loveliest decorated their front door with toilet-paper streamers and, I kid you not, toilet-paper bells with clappers and a toilet-paper flower.
Now I'm grading. I've read a handful of Contemporary Moral Issues finals today, their due date, and this is strange, because it's only a handful, and it is now nearly 6 pm and I'm missing around 2/3 of their finals. They also had a question-and-answer journal on the assigned articles, which was due last Wednesday, and I'm missing 2/3 of those as well. Students, notoriously, don't follow instructions. I've thought of simply no longer giving instructions, and taking the Zen approach of accepting as their work whatever they decide to turn in, and applying evaluation criteria to it accordingly.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
landmark 361st post
Last night, the kittoises slept almost through the night. When I woke to the alarm (a cd player alarm; the Monkees, I swear to it), they were curled up on us, sweetly sleeping. As usual, Alexander immediately woke when he saw me moving, and as usual, Arthur was the first one downstairs in the kitchen to beg for breakfast. But they didn't wake me up, at 5, or 4:30, by jumping up and down on top of us wrestling and biting each other (and us). This morning is also the first morning in the past week when it was actually chilly (we've had record temperatures until yesterday).
From this I conclude: the kittens are heat-activated.
But that's not what I meant to write about. No, that would be
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
25. Notes sung in the "dog register." I just love 'em.
Last night we went to the Cow State Santa Claus Chamber Singers (a.k.a. Daniel Afonso's Elite Republican Guard) concert. These are the top-shelf choral singers on campus, and they never fail to impress. Last night they were a little bit impressiver than usual, particularly the altos. Altos tend to sound weaker in choral groups, in my experience, but this group are quite strong. My loveliest (a one-time soprano-trapped-in-an-alto's-section) suggested that it's hard to find traditional college-age students who are strong altos, because altos develop later as voices deepen.
In any case, a couple of the numbers featured extremely high notes from first sopranos, which is just about my favorite thing that ever happens in choral music. The more the sopranos have to reach, the more I like it. They weren't hitting Ds or anything, but there were definitely a few As, and I believe a B or two.
I don't know what it is, exactly. I feel those dog notes in my bones. Perhaps I'm a dog. Perhaps, as Afonso once suggested to me, I have a sadistic urge focused on sopranos. Well, so did Mozart, so neener-neener, sopranos!
24. Musical dissonances. I just love 'em.
There wasn't as much of this as there sometimes is, but there was a smattering in Eric Whitacre's "Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine," an uplifting (hah!) modern piece in which the choir evokes dreaming, flying, wind, and machines, and the siren call of the will to fly.
Dissonance may not be a word Whitacre, or anybody who knows anything about music, would accept as a description, but by it I mean a tonal tension that sounds like something weird has happened to the piano. I love those moments because I love the feeling of being on the verge, or about to be shoved off the cliff, or about to let go of the rope. I only love that feeling in music, art, literature, philosophy, and theater, and I don't just love it, I have to have it, or I don't feel like anything very important has happened.
Like the Bach piece they did last night. Bach, it struck me, is just like Leibniz. Music is a universal language, Bach's concertos and whatnot are generated by a Leibnizian calculating machine, and each piece in Bach's Werke is the perfect solution generated by the machine. Bach is just the mechanic. Contrast Mozart, who is just like Kant: everything perfectly rational, but also sublime and beautiful, and he swears up and down that's the same thing, and he can prove it, if you'd only sit down and listen, honestly, he's got the whole thing worked out, it's, you know... this!
Okay, seem to have wandered a bit. Last day of classes. Wooo!
From this I conclude: the kittens are heat-activated.
But that's not what I meant to write about. No, that would be
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
25. Notes sung in the "dog register." I just love 'em.
Last night we went to the Cow State Santa Claus Chamber Singers (a.k.a. Daniel Afonso's Elite Republican Guard) concert. These are the top-shelf choral singers on campus, and they never fail to impress. Last night they were a little bit impressiver than usual, particularly the altos. Altos tend to sound weaker in choral groups, in my experience, but this group are quite strong. My loveliest (a one-time soprano-trapped-in-an-alto's-section) suggested that it's hard to find traditional college-age students who are strong altos, because altos develop later as voices deepen.
In any case, a couple of the numbers featured extremely high notes from first sopranos, which is just about my favorite thing that ever happens in choral music. The more the sopranos have to reach, the more I like it. They weren't hitting Ds or anything, but there were definitely a few As, and I believe a B or two.
I don't know what it is, exactly. I feel those dog notes in my bones. Perhaps I'm a dog. Perhaps, as Afonso once suggested to me, I have a sadistic urge focused on sopranos. Well, so did Mozart, so neener-neener, sopranos!
24. Musical dissonances. I just love 'em.
There wasn't as much of this as there sometimes is, but there was a smattering in Eric Whitacre's "Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine," an uplifting (hah!) modern piece in which the choir evokes dreaming, flying, wind, and machines, and the siren call of the will to fly.
Dissonance may not be a word Whitacre, or anybody who knows anything about music, would accept as a description, but by it I mean a tonal tension that sounds like something weird has happened to the piano. I love those moments because I love the feeling of being on the verge, or about to be shoved off the cliff, or about to let go of the rope. I only love that feeling in music, art, literature, philosophy, and theater, and I don't just love it, I have to have it, or I don't feel like anything very important has happened.
Like the Bach piece they did last night. Bach, it struck me, is just like Leibniz. Music is a universal language, Bach's concertos and whatnot are generated by a Leibnizian calculating machine, and each piece in Bach's Werke is the perfect solution generated by the machine. Bach is just the mechanic. Contrast Mozart, who is just like Kant: everything perfectly rational, but also sublime and beautiful, and he swears up and down that's the same thing, and he can prove it, if you'd only sit down and listen, honestly, he's got the whole thing worked out, it's, you know... this!
Okay, seem to have wandered a bit. Last day of classes. Wooo!
Monday, May 19, 2008
still further evidence
Oh, good grief! Do you have any idea how much strain seeing cuteness like this simply does not cause? Can you imagine the degree of pain and suffering we do not face as a result?
Then again, Arthur has developed a fascination and talent for attacking and biting hands, because he has not distinguished (a) human from kitten flesh, nor (b) calming petting behavior from exciting combative behavior.
Then again, Arthur has developed a fascination and talent for attacking and biting hands, because he has not distinguished (a) human from kitten flesh, nor (b) calming petting behavior from exciting combative behavior.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
a good read
This afternoon I read a handful of the last response papers I'm getting from my two classes of Contemporary Moral Issues for the semester. The purpose of the papers is to have my students focus on the main idea the author develops, and to say what they think about that idea. Very frequently, the papers offer unsolicited commentary on the article's style.
My students apply a set of aesthetic criteria to the articles that are a little vague to me. According to these criteria, an article must be "a good read," which has characteristics like being simple, using a limited and familiar vocabulary and simple sentence structure, avoiding ambiguity, and being interesting or amusing. There's nothing necessarily wrong with these standards, even though some of them are totally subjective. Obviously an article has to be intelligible to its audience, and it certainly should make some kind of interesting point. Often, though, my students desire that everything they read be written in a style and at a level that will be immediately transparent to them, and that they will not have to strain to understand. It's "a good read" when it fits all these criteria.
I'm not saying my students don't care, or aren't smart. They try to work through essays that aren't "good reads," even if only because they're required to. They do learn vocabulary. But their judgments of what makes an essay valuable or worthwhile doesn't have as much to do with whether the argument is cogent or whether it presents a perspective or concept that's valuable, as that it be subjectively pleasing in all these ways.
My students apply a set of aesthetic criteria to the articles that are a little vague to me. According to these criteria, an article must be "a good read," which has characteristics like being simple, using a limited and familiar vocabulary and simple sentence structure, avoiding ambiguity, and being interesting or amusing. There's nothing necessarily wrong with these standards, even though some of them are totally subjective. Obviously an article has to be intelligible to its audience, and it certainly should make some kind of interesting point. Often, though, my students desire that everything they read be written in a style and at a level that will be immediately transparent to them, and that they will not have to strain to understand. It's "a good read" when it fits all these criteria.
I'm not saying my students don't care, or aren't smart. They try to work through essays that aren't "good reads," even if only because they're required to. They do learn vocabulary. But their judgments of what makes an essay valuable or worthwhile doesn't have as much to do with whether the argument is cogent or whether it presents a perspective or concept that's valuable, as that it be subjectively pleasing in all these ways.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Dyson
People who read this blog (I could name approximately 3) know of my predilection for freshly-vacuumed carpets. With a fluffy cat and two long-haired hippies living in the house at the time, vacuuming was more than a hobby.
A couple months ago a pair of Kirby door-to-door hacks came by, gave us a demo of the honestly astounding cleaning power of the Kirby, and tried to sell us a Kirby do-it-all machine for the bargain price of$1500 $1200 $1000 cash. They were competing, they said, to try to win Kirby vacuums for themselves, to advance in their salesforces, and to compete for a vacation prize. This, it turns out, is a scam: the vacuums they sell door to door, the demo models, are generally rebuilts, and their stated sticker price, which ranges from $2000 to $2500 (our dudes said $2500), are huge premiums over Kirby's suggested retail of around $1200.
Anyway, the machine impressed, though we made a quick Google search of the vacs while the demo guy was shampooing our living room carpet, found out the scam, and didn't bite. We did, however, come to a chilling realization of the gross inadequacies of our Dirt Devil Jaguar. More research suggested that Dyson's machines are at least in the running with Kirbys for performance standards. My loveliest's family swears by them. So we've been talking about getting one.
Doc Nagel's Heap of Things
26. Dyson vacuums. I just love 'em.
Last weekend we saw the Dyson Slimline on big big sale at the local Kohl's, while there looking for something completely different (I wandered a bit). They were out. We got a rain check. I was disappointed, but whattayagonnado?
Today, I decided to bring out the ol' Jag to clean up while Alexander and Arthur were at the vet's being neutered (successfully; Arthur is, of this writing, woozy as all heck and complaining, and Alexander is, typically, resigned to the whole thing). I wasn't getting any suction, which is the whole point, if you will, of vacuum cleaners. So, as usual, I assumed that a clog of cat fluff and human hair, along with Arthur's kittie-litter-redecorating detritus, had developed in the beast. I cleaned all pipes, tried again, and still nothing.
What I wish I had said: It's dead, Jim.
What I actually said: Well, it looks like you and Lancelot finally got your revenge against the vacuum. Good boy, Lance. A posthumous kill.
So, we plied the Internets looking for someone who would sell us a Dyson on the quick, and found out, to my surprise, that Target sells them, for competitive prices. Gots it. And boy, howdy. This thing sucks.
I vacuumed the upstairs, and the stairs themselves, and overfilled the dust tank. The stairs look like they're coming out of a terrible dirt hangover, all kinda disheveled but managing to stand up on their own and smile wanly at the sun.
Perhaps I take vacuuming a little too... existentially.
A couple months ago a pair of Kirby door-to-door hacks came by, gave us a demo of the honestly astounding cleaning power of the Kirby, and tried to sell us a Kirby do-it-all machine for the bargain price of
Anyway, the machine impressed, though we made a quick Google search of the vacs while the demo guy was shampooing our living room carpet, found out the scam, and didn't bite. We did, however, come to a chilling realization of the gross inadequacies of our Dirt Devil Jaguar. More research suggested that Dyson's machines are at least in the running with Kirbys for performance standards. My loveliest's family swears by them. So we've been talking about getting one.
Doc Nagel's Heap of Things
26. Dyson vacuums. I just love 'em.
Last weekend we saw the Dyson Slimline on big big sale at the local Kohl's, while there looking for something completely different (I wandered a bit). They were out. We got a rain check. I was disappointed, but whattayagonnado?
Today, I decided to bring out the ol' Jag to clean up while Alexander and Arthur were at the vet's being neutered (successfully; Arthur is, of this writing, woozy as all heck and complaining, and Alexander is, typically, resigned to the whole thing). I wasn't getting any suction, which is the whole point, if you will, of vacuum cleaners. So, as usual, I assumed that a clog of cat fluff and human hair, along with Arthur's kittie-litter-redecorating detritus, had developed in the beast. I cleaned all pipes, tried again, and still nothing.
What I wish I had said: It's dead, Jim.
What I actually said: Well, it looks like you and Lancelot finally got your revenge against the vacuum. Good boy, Lance. A posthumous kill.
So, we plied the Internets looking for someone who would sell us a Dyson on the quick, and found out, to my surprise, that Target sells them, for competitive prices. Gots it. And boy, howdy. This thing sucks.
I vacuumed the upstairs, and the stairs themselves, and overfilled the dust tank. The stairs look like they're coming out of a terrible dirt hangover, all kinda disheveled but managing to stand up on their own and smile wanly at the sun.
Perhaps I take vacuuming a little too... existentially.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
elections
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
28. Elections. I just love 'em.
We just got the info packet from the State for the Primary Election on June 3rd. I don't understand this. The State held presidential primaries in February, but apparently we have to have another one. In any case, there's some interesting issues on the ballot.
There's a recall campaign against our State Senator, Jeff Denham. I don't know much about him, except that he stood steadfast against the state budget last year, along party lines, and that he voted to cut school budgets. He also apparently made a public show of not accepting a salary increase, claiming that he was protesting the state's budgetary priorities (i.e., spending money on education), but then, later, took the raise.
There are two initiatives, 98 and 99. 98 would make it more difficult for cities to make eminent domain seizures for private development, which I like, but also would phase out rent control and regulations about returning security deposits to renters, which is a horrible idea. I've had enough trouble with getting security deposits back, and rent control is vital in places like San Francisco, where it's already too damned expensive to live. 99 would undo 98, approximately.
This happens a lot in California: two ballot propositions that are directly contradictory (or nearabouts) to one another. Often, they both fail, which is why people work to put the second, contradictory initiative on the ballot. It confuses voters, and they end up voting no. (Also, many of the ballot initiatives approved by California voters have been overturned by the state supreme court for being unconstitutional. I don't think anyone's tried that with Proposition 22 - The Defense of Marriage Act.)
There's a primary for the 19th District US House seat, currently occupied by George Radanovich, who thinkswe should pave Yosemite and turn it into a giant skate park environmental regulations should be based on traditional land use practices, which in the case of Yosemite would mean privatizing the park and running trains into the middle of the valley to reach vacation hotels. Obviously, he's a Republican, of the libertarian-except-for-social-policy variety. No one else has filed.
27. Wacky botanical facts. I just love 'em.
Turns out, according to Gardening How-To (my loveliest has a scrip), bananas are herbs. They're related to lilies, considered to be the largest herb plant. (No doubt we'll hear later of the discovery of some giant oregano covering 2/3 of Greece, since that's just how oregano grows, and this whole banana thing will have to be re-thought.)
I adore the fact that most "vegetables" are fruits or legumes. Tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, all squashes, beans, peas - all fruits and legumes! Hah!
And onions, garlic, and shallots are lilies.
And spider plants? No spiders involved at all.
28. Elections. I just love 'em.
We just got the info packet from the State for the Primary Election on June 3rd. I don't understand this. The State held presidential primaries in February, but apparently we have to have another one. In any case, there's some interesting issues on the ballot.
There's a recall campaign against our State Senator, Jeff Denham. I don't know much about him, except that he stood steadfast against the state budget last year, along party lines, and that he voted to cut school budgets. He also apparently made a public show of not accepting a salary increase, claiming that he was protesting the state's budgetary priorities (i.e., spending money on education), but then, later, took the raise.
There are two initiatives, 98 and 99. 98 would make it more difficult for cities to make eminent domain seizures for private development, which I like, but also would phase out rent control and regulations about returning security deposits to renters, which is a horrible idea. I've had enough trouble with getting security deposits back, and rent control is vital in places like San Francisco, where it's already too damned expensive to live. 99 would undo 98, approximately.
This happens a lot in California: two ballot propositions that are directly contradictory (or nearabouts) to one another. Often, they both fail, which is why people work to put the second, contradictory initiative on the ballot. It confuses voters, and they end up voting no. (Also, many of the ballot initiatives approved by California voters have been overturned by the state supreme court for being unconstitutional. I don't think anyone's tried that with Proposition 22 - The Defense of Marriage Act.)
There's a primary for the 19th District US House seat, currently occupied by George Radanovich, who thinks
27. Wacky botanical facts. I just love 'em.
Turns out, according to Gardening How-To (my loveliest has a scrip), bananas are herbs. They're related to lilies, considered to be the largest herb plant. (No doubt we'll hear later of the discovery of some giant oregano covering 2/3 of Greece, since that's just how oregano grows, and this whole banana thing will have to be re-thought.)
I adore the fact that most "vegetables" are fruits or legumes. Tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, all squashes, beans, peas - all fruits and legumes! Hah!
And onions, garlic, and shallots are lilies.
And spider plants? No spiders involved at all.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
lyrics, but no tune yet
We're sure it'll be a monster chart-topper.
I'm not climbing any stairs
not vaulting any cross-bars,
not climbing any ladders,
saving all my mounting for you.
Won't take no escalators,
won't board no elevators,
won't catch a lift from no aviators,
saving all my mounting for you.
I'm not riding any horses,
not leaping any fences,
not taking any chances,
I'm just saving all my mounting for you.
From the new hit musical Filling Masie's Dance Card
I'm not climbing any stairs
not vaulting any cross-bars,
not climbing any ladders,
saving all my mounting for you.
Won't take no escalators,
won't board no elevators,
won't catch a lift from no aviators,
saving all my mounting for you.
I'm not riding any horses,
not leaping any fences,
not taking any chances,
I'm just saving all my mounting for you.
From the new hit musical Filling Masie's Dance Card
Friday, May 09, 2008
thirty-six
This is a meme. This is only a meme. For the next thirty-six questions, this blog will conduct a meme. The idea is, you post replies to the following questions in the comments, then send the meme along, because the whole point of memes is to send them along to someone else who will continue to spread the meme. None of this bears mention. Memes aren't important. Occasionally they can be fun, and in some rare instances thought-provoking. (#32 took me a long time.)
I answered the meme on my loveliest's Livejournal blog.
Thirty-six things about you.
1) Are you currently in a serious relationship?
A.
2) What was your dream growing up?
A.
3) What talent do you wish you had?
A.
4) If I bought you a drink what would it be?
A.
5) Favorite vegetable?
A.
6) What was the last book you read?
A.
7) What zodiac sign are you?
A.
8) Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? Explain where.
A.
9) Worst Habit?
A.
10) If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride?
A.
11) What is your favorite sport?
A.
12) Do you have a Negative or Optimistic attitude?
A.
13) What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?
A.
14) Worst thing to ever happen to you?
A.
15) Tell me one weird fact about you.
A.
16) Do you have any pets?
A.
17) What if I showed up at your house unexpectedly?
A.
18) What was your first impression of me?
A.
19) Do you think clowns are cute or scary?
A.
20) If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be?
A.
21) Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?
A.
22) What color eyes do you have?
A.
23) Ever been arrested?
A.
24) Bottle or can soda?
A.
25) If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it?
A.
27) What's your favorite place to hang at?
A.
28) Do you believe in ghosts?
A.
29) Favorite thing to do in your spare time?
A.
30) Do you swear a lot?
A.
31) Biggest pet peeve?
A.
32) In one word, how would you describe yourself?
A.
33) Do you believe/appreciate romance?
A.
35) Do you believe in God?
A.
36) Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you?
A.
I answered the meme on my loveliest's Livejournal blog.
Thirty-six things about you.
1) Are you currently in a serious relationship?
A.
2) What was your dream growing up?
A.
3) What talent do you wish you had?
A.
4) If I bought you a drink what would it be?
A.
5) Favorite vegetable?
A.
6) What was the last book you read?
A.
7) What zodiac sign are you?
A.
8) Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? Explain where.
A.
9) Worst Habit?
A.
10) If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride?
A.
11) What is your favorite sport?
A.
12) Do you have a Negative or Optimistic attitude?
A.
13) What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?
A.
14) Worst thing to ever happen to you?
A.
15) Tell me one weird fact about you.
A.
16) Do you have any pets?
A.
17) What if I showed up at your house unexpectedly?
A.
18) What was your first impression of me?
A.
19) Do you think clowns are cute or scary?
A.
20) If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be?
A.
21) Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?
A.
22) What color eyes do you have?
A.
23) Ever been arrested?
A.
24) Bottle or can soda?
A.
25) If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it?
A.
27) What's your favorite place to hang at?
A.
28) Do you believe in ghosts?
A.
29) Favorite thing to do in your spare time?
A.
30) Do you swear a lot?
A.
31) Biggest pet peeve?
A.
32) In one word, how would you describe yourself?
A.
33) Do you believe/appreciate romance?
A.
35) Do you believe in God?
A.
36) Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you?
A.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
exciting new wrinkle in cheating!
So, many of my students this semester did poorly on their first papers, around mid-term. I invited them to re-write papers, spent some time discussing what had gone wrong, had written notes on them to try to help guide the re-writes.
And yes, one of the re-written papers was plagiarized. For this particular student, the basic problem with the first version of the paper was that the student pretty much completely failed to follow directions. Consequently, it was low, even for an F. I noted as much on the paper: actually responding to the questions I asked in the midterm assignment is probably going to be important, after all.
Did this student take this opportunity to go back to the assignment and answer the questions? Nah, cheated.
I've mentioned before (time after time, I suppose) how incredibly irritating cheating is to me. I'm offended, I'm angered, and I resent the disrespect and disregard that egregious cheating seems in part to be motivated by. To me it's clear that if you're cheating in a philosophy class, you are not going to be getting anything out of the class, and so you're wasting my time and yours.
Plus, it's not as though I don't inform people, at the beginning of every semester, that cheating is easy to spot. I also tell them that every semester, someone does it anyway. Perhaps I should stop saying that. Maybe it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.
And yes, one of the re-written papers was plagiarized. For this particular student, the basic problem with the first version of the paper was that the student pretty much completely failed to follow directions. Consequently, it was low, even for an F. I noted as much on the paper: actually responding to the questions I asked in the midterm assignment is probably going to be important, after all.
Did this student take this opportunity to go back to the assignment and answer the questions? Nah, cheated.
I've mentioned before (time after time, I suppose) how incredibly irritating cheating is to me. I'm offended, I'm angered, and I resent the disrespect and disregard that egregious cheating seems in part to be motivated by. To me it's clear that if you're cheating in a philosophy class, you are not going to be getting anything out of the class, and so you're wasting my time and yours.
Plus, it's not as though I don't inform people, at the beginning of every semester, that cheating is easy to spot. I also tell them that every semester, someone does it anyway. Perhaps I should stop saying that. Maybe it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
home alone
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. I haven't quite started yet.
I'm listening to Winterpills, which I rarely do when Lauren is around, for some reason. My musical tendencies swing toward the mopey alternative, especially in mid-morning, and that's not as often her thing, I think. How that might affect my students' grades, I don't know.
Lately, we've been thinking about having green kittens. This turns out to be difficult to get solid information about, and in some ways difficult to achieve. The main thing we're concerned about, obviously enough, is kitten waste. It's startling how much waste two 3-pound kittens generate in a day (which I realize is hardly breakfast conversation), and for the most part, our options are to flush or to bag this waste. The State of California officially discourages flushing, but bagging means tossing away a plastic bag of kitten poop every day. Lauren looked up composting, and it does seem like it's feasible, given about a half-acre or so of land to give yourself some distance, and appropriate composting techniques. (Even given that, there's dispute about the presence of a toxin in kitten waste, if they've been eating mice or other wildlife.)
An article in the anthology I use for Contemporary Moral Issues cites the statistic that people in the US and the EU spend $3 billion more annually on pet food than it would cost to feed hungry people worldwide. I don't know whether that's true, or if true, a distortion, but in any case, a simple glance around your local big-box pet supplies store should give you a perspective on the amount of resources we do expend on pets. It's all gotta come from somewhere and go somewhere, but just like Target, the Pet Extreme (or whatever) doesn't at all show you what place in the resources-and-wastes chain you and Fluffy or Xerxes occupy.
On the other hand, there've been some incredibly idiotic eco-pets ideas, like turning your cats on to a vegetarian diet. As much as we'd like to have green kittens, there are few ideas we've found so far that aren't impractical for us or totally hare-brained.
I'm listening to Winterpills, which I rarely do when Lauren is around, for some reason. My musical tendencies swing toward the mopey alternative, especially in mid-morning, and that's not as often her thing, I think. How that might affect my students' grades, I don't know.
Lately, we've been thinking about having green kittens. This turns out to be difficult to get solid information about, and in some ways difficult to achieve. The main thing we're concerned about, obviously enough, is kitten waste. It's startling how much waste two 3-pound kittens generate in a day (which I realize is hardly breakfast conversation), and for the most part, our options are to flush or to bag this waste. The State of California officially discourages flushing, but bagging means tossing away a plastic bag of kitten poop every day. Lauren looked up composting, and it does seem like it's feasible, given about a half-acre or so of land to give yourself some distance, and appropriate composting techniques. (Even given that, there's dispute about the presence of a toxin in kitten waste, if they've been eating mice or other wildlife.)
An article in the anthology I use for Contemporary Moral Issues cites the statistic that people in the US and the EU spend $3 billion more annually on pet food than it would cost to feed hungry people worldwide. I don't know whether that's true, or if true, a distortion, but in any case, a simple glance around your local big-box pet supplies store should give you a perspective on the amount of resources we do expend on pets. It's all gotta come from somewhere and go somewhere, but just like Target, the Pet Extreme (or whatever) doesn't at all show you what place in the resources-and-wastes chain you and Fluffy or Xerxes occupy.
On the other hand, there've been some incredibly idiotic eco-pets ideas, like turning your cats on to a vegetarian diet. As much as we'd like to have green kittens, there are few ideas we've found so far that aren't impractical for us or totally hare-brained.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
home sick
Not homesick, but unwell, and not teaching classes today. Bleh.
But I did have something to share:
How To Use The Litterbox by Arthur
Step 1: Hop into the box.
Step 2: Kick approximately 1/2 cup of litter out of the box, with 4 quick, deep kicks.
Step 3: Twist around to face the other way. Repeat 2-3 additional times.
Step 4: Kick approximately 1/4 cup of litter out of the box.
Step 5: Jump out of the box.
Step 6: Jump into the box.
Step 7: Kick litter into one corner of the box. If necessary, repeat steps 5-7.
Step 8: Do your business.
Step 9: Cover between 1/2 and 3/4 of your business by kicking litter randomly around in the box.
Step 10: Jump out of the box and run away.
Then there's:
How To Help Arthur Use The Litterbox by Alexander
Step 1: Watch for Arthur jumping into the litterbox.
Step 2: Run past the litterbox, either chasing Arthur out or feigning to.
Step 3: Return to litterbox, watch intently.
Step 4: As Arthur spins around in the litterbox, pace excitedly by the box. It may seem to irritate Arthur, but it's actually supposed to be encouraging. Enthusiasm is contagious, so if you display a lot of enthusiasm, Arthur will be enthused, too.
Step 5: Squeak at Arthur. (See Step 4.)
Step 6: When Arthur jumps out of the box, run to the box and either cover or uncover his business, by scratching litter around randomly.
Step 7: Run after Arthur.
And of course:
How To Use The Litterbox by Alexander
Step 1: Jump into the box.
Step 2: Scratch at litter once.
Step 3: Do your business.
Step 4: Scratch at litter once.
Step 5: Jump out of box, run away.
Step 6: Leap onto Arthur's head.
But I did have something to share:
How To Use The Litterbox by Arthur
Step 1: Hop into the box.
Step 2: Kick approximately 1/2 cup of litter out of the box, with 4 quick, deep kicks.
Step 3: Twist around to face the other way. Repeat 2-3 additional times.
Step 4: Kick approximately 1/4 cup of litter out of the box.
Step 5: Jump out of the box.
Step 6: Jump into the box.
Step 7: Kick litter into one corner of the box. If necessary, repeat steps 5-7.
Step 8: Do your business.
Step 9: Cover between 1/2 and 3/4 of your business by kicking litter randomly around in the box.
Step 10: Jump out of the box and run away.
Then there's:
How To Help Arthur Use The Litterbox by Alexander
Step 1: Watch for Arthur jumping into the litterbox.
Step 2: Run past the litterbox, either chasing Arthur out or feigning to.
Step 3: Return to litterbox, watch intently.
Step 4: As Arthur spins around in the litterbox, pace excitedly by the box. It may seem to irritate Arthur, but it's actually supposed to be encouraging. Enthusiasm is contagious, so if you display a lot of enthusiasm, Arthur will be enthused, too.
Step 5: Squeak at Arthur. (See Step 4.)
Step 6: When Arthur jumps out of the box, run to the box and either cover or uncover his business, by scratching litter around randomly.
Step 7: Run after Arthur.
And of course:
How To Use The Litterbox by Alexander
Step 1: Jump into the box.
Step 2: Scratch at litter once.
Step 3: Do your business.
Step 4: Scratch at litter once.
Step 5: Jump out of box, run away.
Step 6: Leap onto Arthur's head.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
laugh riot! or maybe just plain riot
Turns out that proposed Fed regulations of mortgages might cool down the subprime mortgage market to the dismay of mortgage companies. It might be hard to understand why representatives of a crumbling financial services infrastructure would want to prevent changes to the rules that made the crumbling possible in the first place.
It's not all that hard to explain. See, the mortgage company gets to keep the interest you pay no matter what, so there's an incredibly strong vested interest for them in being able to make loans to absolutely anybody. Continuing to make predatory loans to people who really don't have the means, and selling them on the idea that the housing market will continue to skyrocket, and all the rest of it,is was very lucrative.
Okay, I'll try again. After I finished my Ph.D., I spent two years teaching for per-class "adjunct"* pay - $1700 a course, $2000 a course, that kind of thing. One academic year I made about $10,000. My student loans were coming due. My (now ex-)wife was unemployed. And I had a credit card with a $28,000 limit.
What I figure is, the mortgage people took a long hard look at Citibank, Chase, Discover, and other credit card companies' business models, and said to themselves, "Shoot, a fella' could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all that stuff." (They got me, too. By the time I made it to California, having been underpaid for my labor for four years - which is way under the standard for advance-degree candidates in the humanities - I owed north of $30,000 on credit. Obviously, more income would have helped, but that's another, very long and tedious story.)
It's not exactly creative genius, I'll admit. The mortgage people just took up the credit card plan, applied it to housing, convinced federal regulators to look the other way, created a huge inflation in housing prices by giving out absurdly large loans, and then sold the debt on an open, speculative market that everyone admitted nobody really understood.
You know, I quoted that line from Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, thinking it was just a funny way to express the epiphany mortgage lenders may have experienced, but now I think it has more parallels than I initially intended.
"Mr. President, I'm not saying we wouldn't get our hair mussed, but I do say no more then ten to twenty million killed, tops. Depending on the breaks."
--
*The term "adjunct," as a name for contingent academic labor, is regarded as deeply offensive by most in the contingent academic labor movement. It connotes being disconnected, non-essential, merely additive, when in fact the contemporary higher education system across the US, Canada, and Mexico absolutely depends on a large quantity of non-tenure-track, non-permanent academic employees. The most proper name for this class might be "faculty experiencing highest levels of exploitation and least rewards and security," but that's a bit unwieldy. I like to refer to us jokingly as "tenuous-track." How about "screwed"?
It's not all that hard to explain. See, the mortgage company gets to keep the interest you pay no matter what, so there's an incredibly strong vested interest for them in being able to make loans to absolutely anybody. Continuing to make predatory loans to people who really don't have the means, and selling them on the idea that the housing market will continue to skyrocket, and all the rest of it,
Okay, I'll try again. After I finished my Ph.D., I spent two years teaching for per-class "adjunct"
What I figure is, the mortgage people took a long hard look at Citibank, Chase, Discover, and other credit card companies' business models, and said to themselves, "Shoot, a fella' could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all that stuff." (They got me, too. By the time I made it to California, having been underpaid for my labor for four years - which is way under the standard for advance-degree candidates in the humanities - I owed north of $30,000 on credit. Obviously, more income would have helped, but that's another, very long and tedious story.)
It's not exactly creative genius, I'll admit. The mortgage people just took up the credit card plan, applied it to housing, convinced federal regulators to look the other way, created a huge inflation in housing prices by giving out absurdly large loans, and then sold the debt on an open, speculative market that everyone admitted nobody really understood.
You know, I quoted that line from Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, thinking it was just a funny way to express the epiphany mortgage lenders may have experienced, but now I think it has more parallels than I initially intended.
"Mr. President, I'm not saying we wouldn't get our hair mussed, but I do say no more then ten to twenty million killed, tops. Depending on the breaks."
--
*The term "adjunct," as a name for contingent academic labor, is regarded as deeply offensive by most in the contingent academic labor movement. It connotes being disconnected, non-essential, merely additive, when in fact the contemporary higher education system across the US, Canada, and Mexico absolutely depends on a large quantity of non-tenure-track, non-permanent academic employees. The most proper name for this class might be "faculty experiencing highest levels of exploitation and least rewards and security," but that's a bit unwieldy. I like to refer to us jokingly as "tenuous-track." How about "screwed"?
Saturday, April 26, 2008
even more disturbing evidence
The kittoises have doubled in size, and although I don't think they've doubled in cuteness, they've certainly taken to some extremely cute
mutual face-biting
sleeping
waking up
and lens-cap attacking.
sleeping
waking up
and lens-cap attacking.
Friday, April 25, 2008
weekend & cross-posting
& kittens kittens kittens
In one of my classes, I'm requiring students to participate in an online threaded discussion board. We'd been reading about Foucault and surveillance, and a question came up about the adjustments people have made that allow them to relax about the constant surveillance we're under, especially in social networking sites.
I took it in this direction:
I'm not usually a fan of trend-thinking (identifying and analyzing passing trends), because it often seems to be either a kind of futurism, or else devolves into fairly obvious commentaries on something essentially already passé. In the case of social-networking sites and the mode of self-disclosure, there does seem to be a change in the way we deal with matters we keep secret and those we disclose.
An example of this is journal or diary keeping. The electronic language of on-line journals alters relationships between self and others, both known and unknown, both intimate and anonymous.
We could interpret this as a genre of narrative, as well, and track how online self-disclosing expressions operate as performances or constructions of self or of identity. I keep an online journal, in the form of a blog. It's fairly self-disclosive, but in the shape of a narrative of personal events, world events, ideas, and so forth, that are genuinely expressive of certain shapes of my identity. I even have a name for this identity (as do many online diarists - their handles or screen-names): Doc Nagel.
Am I Doc Nagel? At least provisionally, at least in some respects. That identity is located somewhere between/among my instructor-identity, my academic-identity, my activist-identity, my philosopher-identity, my gourmet-identity, my hockey-fan-identity, my kitten-obsessive-identity, and my private life. All those intersect, are played out, and are shaped and addressed through the journal. I'm careful about how I write in it, though not all that careful. (Then again, I'm not all that careful about what I say in any public forum or in any university venue.)
Exposure, surveillance, and discipline are decidedly at issue. At one point, I was asked by a university official to either take down or to eliminate a link to my online journal, because its contents were printed off and mailed to the university in order to try to get me into trouble (it's a long story, and no, I'm not telling). Some people have been fired for criticizing their employers in online journals, and a good friend of mine has changed journals three or four times to evade being identified as the blogger in question (though not because she's particularly critical of anybody).
In other news, I have completed 4 weeks of non-stop work, stress, and craziness. I am taking the (vast majority of the) weekend off. Penguins-Rangers in just over an hour. Woohoo!
Kittens kittens kittens kittens. Alexander is now 2.12 pounds, and Alex is 2.07. Pictures to come soon. Stay tuned. They'll get nipped in 3 more weeks. Meanwhile, total kitten insanity reigns.
I took it in this direction:
I'm not usually a fan of trend-thinking (identifying and analyzing passing trends), because it often seems to be either a kind of futurism, or else devolves into fairly obvious commentaries on something essentially already passé. In the case of social-networking sites and the mode of self-disclosure, there does seem to be a change in the way we deal with matters we keep secret and those we disclose.
An example of this is journal or diary keeping. The electronic language of on-line journals alters relationships between self and others, both known and unknown, both intimate and anonymous.
We could interpret this as a genre of narrative, as well, and track how online self-disclosing expressions operate as performances or constructions of self or of identity. I keep an online journal, in the form of a blog. It's fairly self-disclosive, but in the shape of a narrative of personal events, world events, ideas, and so forth, that are genuinely expressive of certain shapes of my identity. I even have a name for this identity (as do many online diarists - their handles or screen-names): Doc Nagel.
Am I Doc Nagel? At least provisionally, at least in some respects. That identity is located somewhere between/among my instructor-identity, my academic-identity, my activist-identity, my philosopher-identity, my gourmet-identity, my hockey-fan-identity, my kitten-obsessive-identity, and my private life. All those intersect, are played out, and are shaped and addressed through the journal. I'm careful about how I write in it, though not all that careful. (Then again, I'm not all that careful about what I say in any public forum or in any university venue.)
Exposure, surveillance, and discipline are decidedly at issue. At one point, I was asked by a university official to either take down or to eliminate a link to my online journal, because its contents were printed off and mailed to the university in order to try to get me into trouble (it's a long story, and no, I'm not telling). Some people have been fired for criticizing their employers in online journals, and a good friend of mine has changed journals three or four times to evade being identified as the blogger in question (though not because she's particularly critical of anybody).
In other news, I have completed 4 weeks of non-stop work, stress, and craziness. I am taking the (vast majority of the) weekend off. Penguins-Rangers in just over an hour. Woohoo!
Kittens kittens kittens kittens. Alexander is now 2.12 pounds, and Alex is 2.07. Pictures to come soon. Stay tuned. They'll get nipped in 3 more weeks. Meanwhile, total kitten insanity reigns.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
math problems
It turns out that abstinence-only sex education programs are, at best, worthless for reducing rates of sexually transmitted disease and teen pregnancy. The reason for drawing this conclusion is that the $1.3 billion spent on them since the late 1990s have resulted in no positive change in the rates of these.
Time to rethink the programs? Nah.
In other news, Rep. Duncan also questioned the judgments of his 9-year old son's teacher, saying it seemed "rather elitist" that the teacher claimed to know better what the product of 8 times 7 is.
Time to rethink the programs? Nah.
Rep. John Duncan, a Tennessee Republican, said that it seems "rather elitist" that people with academic degrees in health think they know better than parents what type of sex education is appropriate. "I don't think it's something we should abandon," he said of abstinence-only funding.
In other news, Rep. Duncan also questioned the judgments of his 9-year old son's teacher, saying it seemed "rather elitist" that the teacher claimed to know better what the product of 8 times 7 is.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
hungry
I'm not hungry. Lots of people are. In fact, Reuters is reporting that the UN is concerned 100 million more people are deprived of necessary food as a result of shortages worldwide, the shift to growing crops for biofuels, and market shenanigans (i.e., profiteering, hoarding, manipulating markets, restricting exports).
The hunger is spread across all continents. And even here, food rationing is taking place at places like Costco. We're actually thinking of buying large sacks of beans and rice to store away, just in case, you know, things get even worse.
Up til now, the only real impact on our lives from all this has been the rationing of hops. Yep, farmers worldwide are switching from hops to our good friend #2 field corn to make ethanol. For those of us who enjoy massive doses of irony, here's a fun fact: to grow the #2 corn that is used to create ethanol, farmers use large quantities of fertilizer, herbicide, and pesticide, mainly derived from, uh, petroleum; they use great quantities of diesel to run machines to sow, reap, and move crops around; the mills use petroleum to run machines to process the corn.
That this is all driven by a policy (especially in Europe, where the EU has imposed targets for ethanol production) that is justified on basis of concern for the environment is another ginormous dose of irony. I suppose it demonstrates the ultimate folly of trying to produce and consume our way out of environmental destruction caused by production and consumption. Rather than work toward reducing reliance on the fantastic and utterly unsustainable use of resources, we're trying to make changes in which resources we exploit.
Michael Pollan notes, in Omnivore's Dilemma, that from a certain ecological interpretation of matters, we haven't domesticated and come to exploit #2 field corn. The situation is the reverse: it's exploiting us. (It's sort of like the relationship between humans and cats in most of the affluent parts of the world. I'm not sure, at this point, whether biofuel consumption or kitten consumption creates more pollution.)
The hunger is spread across all continents. And even here, food rationing is taking place at places like Costco. We're actually thinking of buying large sacks of beans and rice to store away, just in case, you know, things get even worse.
Up til now, the only real impact on our lives from all this has been the rationing of hops. Yep, farmers worldwide are switching from hops to our good friend #2 field corn to make ethanol. For those of us who enjoy massive doses of irony, here's a fun fact: to grow the #2 corn that is used to create ethanol, farmers use large quantities of fertilizer, herbicide, and pesticide, mainly derived from, uh, petroleum; they use great quantities of diesel to run machines to sow, reap, and move crops around; the mills use petroleum to run machines to process the corn.
That this is all driven by a policy (especially in Europe, where the EU has imposed targets for ethanol production) that is justified on basis of concern for the environment is another ginormous dose of irony. I suppose it demonstrates the ultimate folly of trying to produce and consume our way out of environmental destruction caused by production and consumption. Rather than work toward reducing reliance on the fantastic and utterly unsustainable use of resources, we're trying to make changes in which resources we exploit.
Michael Pollan notes, in Omnivore's Dilemma, that from a certain ecological interpretation of matters, we haven't domesticated and come to exploit #2 field corn. The situation is the reverse: it's exploiting us. (It's sort of like the relationship between humans and cats in most of the affluent parts of the world. I'm not sure, at this point, whether biofuel consumption or kitten consumption creates more pollution.)
Monday, April 21, 2008
happy, odd ending
After morning classes, I called the attorney who sent the notice of termination today, and also called the property management company. The attorney said (through his receptionist) that he'd contact me if he received further information, and to call the management company. I left a message at the management company, taught my last class, and walked home. On the way I imagined another possible scenario that made this less insane: an eminent domain seizure of the driveway area by the city, to do some kind of utility work or something.
Nope.
I got home, opened the door, and Lauren greeted me with "that man is insane!"
She was referring to the lawyer. The property management company had called her (I left our number with my message) and told her that the person who sent the letters, to all residents in the complex, had previously owned it, and has for a long time been harassing the current owners. Apparently, the new tactic is to bother the tenants. It seems that the previous owner simply cannot accept that he no longer owns the property.
So the reason this seemed insane is that it was the work of the insane.
Now I wonder if the lawyer is also insane, or is simply carrying out the instruction of an insane client. Do lawyers have a responsibility to do whatever an insane client asks? I think there's a limit, and that no lawyer is obligated to fulfill requested services when there is no legal basis or when the client is deranged.
Then again, lawyers. I've been part of a legally baseless lawsuit, so it's not clear that they do think there's a limit.
Nope.
I got home, opened the door, and Lauren greeted me with "that man is insane!"
She was referring to the lawyer. The property management company had called her (I left our number with my message) and told her that the person who sent the letters, to all residents in the complex, had previously owned it, and has for a long time been harassing the current owners. Apparently, the new tactic is to bother the tenants. It seems that the previous owner simply cannot accept that he no longer owns the property.
So the reason this seemed insane is that it was the work of the insane.
Now I wonder if the lawyer is also insane, or is simply carrying out the instruction of an insane client. Do lawyers have a responsibility to do whatever an insane client asks? I think there's a limit, and that no lawyer is obligated to fulfill requested services when there is no legal basis or when the client is deranged.
Then again, lawyers. I've been part of a legally baseless lawsuit, so it's not clear that they do think there's a limit.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
update on real estate madness
Our friends and neighbors, Christina and Guerin, also received a notice of termination, for the "common area" and driveway. Their garage is attached to their unit, and ours isn't. Could this be some weird seizure of the garages?
There's a backstory here. A few weeks ago we started having difficulty with our garage door opener. We used to be able to click the button and open the garage from the head of the driveway, at least 100 feet away. Suddenly we had to be right in front of it. The door also wouldn't close properly. Eventually it stopped working altogether. They changed the sensors, then the drive unit, and finally the remote.
Then the next-door garage door opener stopped working. Then two more. Then all them along that row. Last time the garage door guy was here (for the fourth time), last week, he said it had something to do with interference from the airport. I don't know what that really means or how it could be, but that's what he said.
So, scenario 1: The owners have realized that unlockable, nonworking garage doors are an insurance liability, and they're responding in the only way owners can think of, which is to take them all away. Why they would need to terminate our tenancy on the driveway and parking space, I don't know. It doesn't follow.
Scenario 2: The post office has only delivered the first round of letters, and everyone's tenancy is being terminated, because the dump is closing. That could be plausible, if, say, the owners are being foreclosed on, or if they want to take advantage of the high level of foreclosures and sell these as individual units, sort of condo-like (they once were, we've heard). This makes sense because people who are being thrown out of their $400,000 mortgages could still feel the pride of ownership of a $200,000 mortgage here. Perhaps.
We don't know. We've put in numerous calls to the manager, but it's the weekend.
There's a backstory here. A few weeks ago we started having difficulty with our garage door opener. We used to be able to click the button and open the garage from the head of the driveway, at least 100 feet away. Suddenly we had to be right in front of it. The door also wouldn't close properly. Eventually it stopped working altogether. They changed the sensors, then the drive unit, and finally the remote.
Then the next-door garage door opener stopped working. Then two more. Then all them along that row. Last time the garage door guy was here (for the fourth time), last week, he said it had something to do with interference from the airport. I don't know what that really means or how it could be, but that's what he said.
So, scenario 1: The owners have realized that unlockable, nonworking garage doors are an insurance liability, and they're responding in the only way owners can think of, which is to take them all away. Why they would need to terminate our tenancy on the driveway and parking space, I don't know. It doesn't follow.
Scenario 2: The post office has only delivered the first round of letters, and everyone's tenancy is being terminated, because the dump is closing. That could be plausible, if, say, the owners are being foreclosed on, or if they want to take advantage of the high level of foreclosures and sell these as individual units, sort of condo-like (they once were, we've heard). This makes sense because people who are being thrown out of their $400,000 mortgages could still feel the pride of ownership of a $200,000 mortgage here. Perhaps.
We don't know. We've put in numerous calls to the manager, but it's the weekend.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
because we haven't faced enough stress lately
Arthur has spent two mornings at the hospital with difficulties urinating and using the litterbox. The vet decided today that he's got a urinary tract infection, has given him antibiotics, and he's probably on the road to recovery. So 48 hours of great stress was relieved.
The long weeks of overwork, worry about the kitties, difficulty with instructing Arthur on the finer points of eating, drinking water, using the box, and so forth, have finally come to an end. The end of the semester just 6 weeks away, there's time for a breath.
Except this:
Dear Tenant(s) in Possession:
NOTICE IS HEREBY GIVEN that you must remove yourself from and deliver up possession, occupancy and use of the premises described above... on or before May 19, 2008.
In fact, we received 2 notices today, one regarding the garage, the other regarding the driveway and common areas of the complex. I have no doubt the third will be in the mail on Monday, for the unit itself.
By the way, California's department of consumer affairs web site refers to 30-day notices for termination of month-to-month tenancy, not year-long leases. Termination notice does not have to specify a cause, and no violation of the lease by us is necessarily implied. But we're going to have to say why we're moving on our next lease applications.
And here's a charming fact: if you challenge an eviction and lose, in California, your social security number is entered in a database, called the blacklist, and any prospective landlord will consult this database in deciding whether to rent to you.
Also: We haven't violated the lease. We haven't paid rent late. We haven't violated complex rules.
And also: Most folks across the States assume the California is a liberal and enlightened state on all manner of issues - drug law, provision of social services, educational spending, consumer protection, etc. IT'S A LIE. California has one of the least helpful tenant laws on the books.
More later, without doubt. This fucking sucks.
The long weeks of overwork, worry about the kitties, difficulty with instructing Arthur on the finer points of eating, drinking water, using the box, and so forth, have finally come to an end. The end of the semester just 6 weeks away, there's time for a breath.
Except this:
Dear Tenant(s) in Possession:
NOTICE IS HEREBY GIVEN that you must remove yourself from and deliver up possession, occupancy and use of the premises described above... on or before May 19, 2008.
In fact, we received 2 notices today, one regarding the garage, the other regarding the driveway and common areas of the complex. I have no doubt the third will be in the mail on Monday, for the unit itself.
By the way, California's department of consumer affairs web site refers to 30-day notices for termination of month-to-month tenancy, not year-long leases. Termination notice does not have to specify a cause, and no violation of the lease by us is necessarily implied. But we're going to have to say why we're moving on our next lease applications.
And here's a charming fact: if you challenge an eviction and lose, in California, your social security number is entered in a database, called the blacklist, and any prospective landlord will consult this database in deciding whether to rent to you.
Also: We haven't violated the lease. We haven't paid rent late. We haven't violated complex rules.
And also: Most folks across the States assume the California is a liberal and enlightened state on all manner of issues - drug law, provision of social services, educational spending, consumer protection, etc. IT'S A LIE. California has one of the least helpful tenant laws on the books.
More later, without doubt. This fucking sucks.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
notes for a contribution to a campus dialogue
I'm about to head out for a 90-minute campus dialogue event, sponsored by the associated students and some other groups. I was invited to be a faculty panelist. The title is (I swear I am not making this up) "Generation Myspace: Does it give a damn?" My instructions were to come up with presentations of my opinions on the following questions, and to make them brief, memorable, and vivid. I took a look at the questions after the academic senate meeting, which was probably a mistake, since those meetings (especially yesterday's; more on this probably later) tend to bring out my earnest side. There's far too little facetiousness in these responses, so I'll have to gum things up some other way. Students are also on the panel, which is why the questions seem targeted at student life rather than faculty life.
How do social networking sites (Facebook, MySpace) keep you connected to the world? Are they just games or is there some serious social value to them?
My early involvement in the web was decidedly for the sake of direct communication with particular people – students in my class. Then I used it for self-publishing silly stuff.
Now I’ve got a weblog that I use not as a weblog at all, but as a publicly kept personal journal, because, likely, of some combination of mental illnesses and neuroses.
In your opinion, are student well-informed about the world around them today? Why or why not? What issues push your buttons? How do you find out about them?
Is it a good thing to be well-informed? If well-informed means being a consumer of news, then I would be rather worried if a the majority of my students were. Thankfully, it seems that most of my students are not consumers of news in any large capacity. However, they do eat too much sugar.
I was unsurprised to find that a minority of my students had heard about the proposed CA budget and $386 million cut to the CSU budget, along with 10% student fee increase, for 08-09. I was unsurprised to find that a tiny minority of my students report hearing about the situation from other faculty.
What does the up-coming election and all the primary election activity mean to you? Does your vote really make a difference or mean anything?
If voting were the only or the most significant part of political participation, we would all be doomed. We might be anyway, but voting is quite literally the absolute least any of us can do. The winner of the presidential election will be the candidate with the better hair.
What life skills are the most important for you to cultivate? Why those skills? Are those skills you need to go to college to learn?
Know how to grow vegetables. Also, it is profoundly life-altering to learn how to make soup stock out of kitchen scraps, chicken or fish carcasses, beef bones, etc. I mean this in all seriousness: the life-skills that are most important to cultivate are those that allow you to act independently, autonomously, creatively, self-determinedly, and outside the realm of bureaucratic, commercial, governmental, or other hegemonic control. Growing and cooking your own food can be as much an act of political and social resistance to oppression as making public speeches or demonstrating at protests.
The reason for any of this kind of activity is, ultimately, to preserve what freedom you’ve still got, to extend that freedom as much as you can, and to create ways to promote social justice and the common good.
If you could have your degree right now and NOT learn anything, would you take it? Why or why not? What’s the worth of a degree from the CSU?
I’m not a fan of degrees. If we’re in the degree business, then we’re competing in a market that rewards cost efficiency by both the institution and the students: the ideal is to obtain the best-reputed degree at least cost and least outlay of resources (including labor). On the institutional side, this encourages some of the worst practices in academia: faculty contingency, increasing class sizes, eliminating or limiting direct student-faculty contact by way of exploitation of electronic “course delivery,” unbundling of faculty labor (dividing up teaching from research and service). On the student side, it encourages a kind of bargaining or negotiating mentality, a gamesmanship, where the goal is to work out the simplest possible path to the degree. It discourages those things faculty do best and (IMHO) students could most benefit from: the time-consuming, interactively intensive, often exhausting effort to learn, that is, to articulate experience, the world, the social and historical situation, and to draw reasoned conclusions about all of this, relying on one’s own and one another’s imagination, memory, intellect, intuition, and passion. You know: education.
How do social networking sites (Facebook, MySpace) keep you connected to the world? Are they just games or is there some serious social value to them?
My early involvement in the web was decidedly for the sake of direct communication with particular people – students in my class. Then I used it for self-publishing silly stuff.
Now I’ve got a weblog that I use not as a weblog at all, but as a publicly kept personal journal, because, likely, of some combination of mental illnesses and neuroses.
In your opinion, are student well-informed about the world around them today? Why or why not? What issues push your buttons? How do you find out about them?
Is it a good thing to be well-informed? If well-informed means being a consumer of news, then I would be rather worried if a the majority of my students were. Thankfully, it seems that most of my students are not consumers of news in any large capacity. However, they do eat too much sugar.
I was unsurprised to find that a minority of my students had heard about the proposed CA budget and $386 million cut to the CSU budget, along with 10% student fee increase, for 08-09. I was unsurprised to find that a tiny minority of my students report hearing about the situation from other faculty.
What does the up-coming election and all the primary election activity mean to you? Does your vote really make a difference or mean anything?
If voting were the only or the most significant part of political participation, we would all be doomed. We might be anyway, but voting is quite literally the absolute least any of us can do. The winner of the presidential election will be the candidate with the better hair.
What life skills are the most important for you to cultivate? Why those skills? Are those skills you need to go to college to learn?
Know how to grow vegetables. Also, it is profoundly life-altering to learn how to make soup stock out of kitchen scraps, chicken or fish carcasses, beef bones, etc. I mean this in all seriousness: the life-skills that are most important to cultivate are those that allow you to act independently, autonomously, creatively, self-determinedly, and outside the realm of bureaucratic, commercial, governmental, or other hegemonic control. Growing and cooking your own food can be as much an act of political and social resistance to oppression as making public speeches or demonstrating at protests.
The reason for any of this kind of activity is, ultimately, to preserve what freedom you’ve still got, to extend that freedom as much as you can, and to create ways to promote social justice and the common good.
If you could have your degree right now and NOT learn anything, would you take it? Why or why not? What’s the worth of a degree from the CSU?
I’m not a fan of degrees. If we’re in the degree business, then we’re competing in a market that rewards cost efficiency by both the institution and the students: the ideal is to obtain the best-reputed degree at least cost and least outlay of resources (including labor). On the institutional side, this encourages some of the worst practices in academia: faculty contingency, increasing class sizes, eliminating or limiting direct student-faculty contact by way of exploitation of electronic “course delivery,” unbundling of faculty labor (dividing up teaching from research and service). On the student side, it encourages a kind of bargaining or negotiating mentality, a gamesmanship, where the goal is to work out the simplest possible path to the degree. It discourages those things faculty do best and (IMHO) students could most benefit from: the time-consuming, interactively intensive, often exhausting effort to learn, that is, to articulate experience, the world, the social and historical situation, and to draw reasoned conclusions about all of this, relying on one’s own and one another’s imagination, memory, intellect, intuition, and passion. You know: education.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
caution: this could be very bad for your eyes
Colorless green ideas may sleep furiously (we may never know), but littermate tabby kittens sleep adorably. What you don't even see here are the variations on these poses, some of which are even cuter than these dangerously cute pictures (as always, I'm concerned about liability): Arthur sleeping lying across Alexander's middle, so that Alex's side looks like Arthur has grown a strange, bushy, gray and black striped beard; Alexander and Arthur sleeping tail-to-head like a ying-yang symbol; the two of them in the wicker basket in the kitchen where we keep extra placemats and napkins.
We keep nearly missing videorecording them playing in probably illegally cute ways, like playing swats through the open toe and heel parts of a sandal; or the sudden random leaps up to the second stair, followed by limboing under the stair railing and walking up the flat incline on the side of the steps, while playing swats through the railing bars.
In other news, I'm busy as hell, and the economy is going foom. Bon appetit!
We keep nearly missing videorecording them playing in probably illegally cute ways, like playing swats through the open toe and heel parts of a sandal; or the sudden random leaps up to the second stair, followed by limboing under the stair railing and walking up the flat incline on the side of the steps, while playing swats through the railing bars.
In other news, I'm busy as hell, and the economy is going foom. Bon appetit!
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
starting tonight
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
29. NHL playoffs. I just love 'em.
Our beloved Pittsburgh Penguins begin the playoffs tonight in a re-match against the Ottawa Senators, who eliminated the Pens last year in 5 games. But that was last year. Both teams look and act a little different this year.
Actually, I both love and hate the playoffs. Hockey is a beautiful and brutal sport, and individual games, individual players, and individual plays can reflect either or both of those qualities. During the regular season, referees call penalties more carefully, but in the playoffs the mentality is to "let them play" (which has always struck me as idiotic, but that's another story). In any case, the effect of all this is that regular season games have more room for beautiful play, and the playoffs almost always immediately devolve into a cruel war of attrition. Nothing pretty happens. On the other hand, they reach a level of intensity that's just incredible. You can actually see the difference even on TV.
I realize this is the fourth-ish hockey-related Thing in a row. That's because other than kittens, kittens, classes, kittens, budget cuts, kittens, committee meetings, kittens, kittens, campus events, and kittens, life lately has had one main pre-occupation:kittens hockey kittens.
29. NHL playoffs. I just love 'em.
Our beloved Pittsburgh Penguins begin the playoffs tonight in a re-match against the Ottawa Senators, who eliminated the Pens last year in 5 games. But that was last year. Both teams look and act a little different this year.
Actually, I both love and hate the playoffs. Hockey is a beautiful and brutal sport, and individual games, individual players, and individual plays can reflect either or both of those qualities. During the regular season, referees call penalties more carefully, but in the playoffs the mentality is to "let them play" (which has always struck me as idiotic, but that's another story). In any case, the effect of all this is that regular season games have more room for beautiful play, and the playoffs almost always immediately devolve into a cruel war of attrition. Nothing pretty happens. On the other hand, they reach a level of intensity that's just incredible. You can actually see the difference even on TV.
I realize this is the fourth-ish hockey-related Thing in a row. That's because other than kittens, kittens, classes, kittens, budget cuts, kittens, committee meetings, kittens, kittens, campus events, and kittens, life lately has had one main pre-occupation:
Thursday, April 03, 2008
update
The kittens now have names. They've also had their first vet visit.
The silver tabby is now officially Alexander (for Alexander the Great). The orange tabby is now Arthur (for King Arthur, Arthur Dent, and Arthur Pewtie). Alexander weighs 1.07 pounds, Arthur 1.01 pounds.
A quick peak into some of the action:
Arthur in deep thought, contemplating his next move.
Arthur and Alexander investigating the sliding door, with special attention to the track.
Establishing dominance over the fuzzy streamer toy. (Alexander made the revolutionary discovery that it's the stick that really runs the thing. If you dominate the stick, you dominate the streamer. Unless it's wrapped around your head. That's just confusing.)
Alexander exhausted from all the activity.
The silver tabby is now officially Alexander (for Alexander the Great). The orange tabby is now Arthur (for King Arthur, Arthur Dent, and Arthur Pewtie). Alexander weighs 1.07 pounds, Arthur 1.01 pounds.
A quick peak into some of the action:
Arthur and Alexander investigating the sliding door, with special attention to the track.
Establishing dominance over the fuzzy streamer toy. (Alexander made the revolutionary discovery that it's the stick that really runs the thing. If you dominate the stick, you dominate the streamer. Unless it's wrapped around your head. That's just confusing.)
Alexander exhausted from all the activity.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
where are our kittens?
We've spent hours and hours since Wednesday afternoon trying to find kittens to adopt, exhausting almost all options. It's frustrating, but more than that it's becoming very upsetting to me.
I feel like adopting kittens is the last thing we can and should do for getting through Lancelot's terrible death. The adoption is inextricably connected in my mind with Lancelot's end. We're adopting kittens because Lancelot isn't with us any more. If he were, we wouldn't be thinking of it. For two months now, there's been a very obvious and definite hole in our lives and in our place, and it has never stopped hurting. I will always be hurt by the loss of that incredibly excellent cat, but it is time for there to be cats again.
It would be easier if we weren't in the kitten market. There are adult cats to be adopted probably everyplace in the US. We want kittens because we want to raise them to be used to things like having their claws trimmed and being brushed. And, well, you've seen kittens. What's better than a kitten?
I feel like adopting kittens is the last thing we can and should do for getting through Lancelot's terrible death. The adoption is inextricably connected in my mind with Lancelot's end. We're adopting kittens because Lancelot isn't with us any more. If he were, we wouldn't be thinking of it. For two months now, there's been a very obvious and definite hole in our lives and in our place, and it has never stopped hurting. I will always be hurt by the loss of that incredibly excellent cat, but it is time for there to be cats again.
It would be easier if we weren't in the kitten market. There are adult cats to be adopted probably everyplace in the US. We want kittens because we want to raise them to be used to things like having their claws trimmed and being brushed. And, well, you've seen kittens. What's better than a kitten?
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
spring breaking
The plan was, we'd drive down to LA on Friday, spend Easter weekend and a couple days down there, and bring back up with us Pico de Gato, the cat that showed up at our place late last summer, when Lancelot was still alive and kicking and his heart was still beating with hate for other cats. It wasn't tenable to keep Pico then, so we had him, in the euphemism, fixed, and brought him down to LA to Lauren's mom's place to live with (at current count) 5 cats and 5 dogs.
Last night, the plan changed.
I had misgivings all along, because I thought that Pico would have learned habits that I'd want him to unlearn, and that would be difficult: hanging around on countertops, tabletops, high shelves, and so forth; going in and out at will; pouncing on random four-legged passersby. I didn't realize until last night that Lauren's misgivings were as serious as they were: she wasn't sure she could have Pico around and not feel some reserved guilt about Lancelot.
So we remain, for the moment, catless. The plan now is to adopt two kittens, raise them from kittenhood, give them their human names, teach them the ways of the world, love the tar out of them, etc. After driving up from LA today, we tried to find kittens at the Stanislaus County animal shelter (a fairly miserable place, but they're better than they were a couple years ago) and a pet store in Turlock that used to have kittens for adoption. No dice, or in any case, no kittens. Just a lot of sad cat faces in cages in a smelly room in Modesto.
(For the record, I hate animal shelters. I can't stand being near them, let alone in them. To me they represent the worst of human behavior - our fantastic capacities to regard life as cheap; to disregard other beings, and especially their suffering; to hide, discard, deny, and ultimately dispose of the evidence of our worst failings; and to treat the world and everything in it as here for our momentary pleasure and consumption with no thought of the consequences.)
Last night, the plan changed.
I had misgivings all along, because I thought that Pico would have learned habits that I'd want him to unlearn, and that would be difficult: hanging around on countertops, tabletops, high shelves, and so forth; going in and out at will; pouncing on random four-legged passersby. I didn't realize until last night that Lauren's misgivings were as serious as they were: she wasn't sure she could have Pico around and not feel some reserved guilt about Lancelot.
So we remain, for the moment, catless. The plan now is to adopt two kittens, raise them from kittenhood, give them their human names, teach them the ways of the world, love the tar out of them, etc. After driving up from LA today, we tried to find kittens at the Stanislaus County animal shelter (a fairly miserable place, but they're better than they were a couple years ago) and a pet store in Turlock that used to have kittens for adoption. No dice, or in any case, no kittens. Just a lot of sad cat faces in cages in a smelly room in Modesto.
(For the record, I hate animal shelters. I can't stand being near them, let alone in them. To me they represent the worst of human behavior - our fantastic capacities to regard life as cheap; to disregard other beings, and especially their suffering; to hide, discard, deny, and ultimately dispose of the evidence of our worst failings; and to treat the world and everything in it as here for our momentary pleasure and consumption with no thought of the consequences.)
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
finally, some good news
Not about the economy, which is still, according to some reports, 78.3% likely to go foom.
No, the good news is that, what with the subprime mortgage market scandal being breathtakingly revealed, we may finally be free from the scourge of web ads featuring badly animated dancing cowboys, lizards, silhouetted chicks in skirts, and so on, trying to sell subprime loans. Thank Moose for that, because I always came close to smashing my laptop against the nearest wall when those appeared.
Besides that, my loveliest found a wonderful item on the Internets, through an online friend of hers. I am proud to bring you garfield minus garfield.
No, the good news is that, what with the subprime mortgage market scandal being breathtakingly revealed, we may finally be free from the scourge of web ads featuring badly animated dancing cowboys, lizards, silhouetted chicks in skirts, and so on, trying to sell subprime loans. Thank Moose for that, because I always came close to smashing my laptop against the nearest wall when those appeared.
Besides that, my loveliest found a wonderful item on the Internets, through an online friend of hers. I am proud to bring you garfield minus garfield.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
next!
New York Times article on Bear Stearns.
Two points: They deliberately inflated their market value to increase their stock price by way of simply bluffing. People on Wall Street bought it.
Okay, three points: The Fed, (i.e., US taxpayers) are bailing them all out.
Okay, okay, four points: As much as this "moral hazard" of bailing out the screwheads bugs the hell out of me, if the Feds didn't, the entire house of cards which is the US economy and the stock market would collapse, and that would hurt the innocent far more than the guilty.
Two points: They deliberately inflated their market value to increase their stock price by way of simply bluffing. People on Wall Street bought it.
Okay, three points: The Fed, (i.e., US taxpayers) are bailing them all out.
Okay, okay, four points: As much as this "moral hazard" of bailing out the screwheads bugs the hell out of me, if the Feds didn't, the entire house of cards which is the US economy and the stock market would collapse, and that would hurt the innocent far more than the guilty.
hockey related things
It's been a while since I updated either this blog or my list of
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
32. Thrilling, close hockey games. I just love 'em.
A week ago Friday, we took in the Stockton Thunder game with our pals Christina and Guerin. The Thunder looked a little dazed in the first period, as Idaho ran up a 2-0 lead, outshooting the Thunder something like 12-6. It didn't look much better until midway through the second, when the Thunder got a short-handed goal, and in the third, absolutely took over the game. Superb pulling-together performance. Lots of hits, a couple fights, good passing (eventually) and brilliant puck-possession in the third by the Thunder. Good stuff.
31. Lopsided wins for my favorite hockey team. I just love 'em.
This morning I woke to the Pittsburgh Penguins beating the tar out of the brain-dead thugs who beat people up while wearing Philadelphia Flyers jerseys. My hatred for the Flyers, as has been documented here, is unspeakable, deep, abiding, and the cause of a great deal of cursing. Today I recognized the fatal flaw in the Flyers strategy was that, when a team like the Penguins forces them to try to play hockey, they really can't. Penguins, 7-1. Evgeni Malkin and Petr Sykora had 2 goals and 2 assists, each. Zappo.
30. Long winning streaks for one of my favorite hockey teams. I just love 'em.
San Jose Sharks, 11 in a row. Zowie.
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
32. Thrilling, close hockey games. I just love 'em.
A week ago Friday, we took in the Stockton Thunder game with our pals Christina and Guerin. The Thunder looked a little dazed in the first period, as Idaho ran up a 2-0 lead, outshooting the Thunder something like 12-6. It didn't look much better until midway through the second, when the Thunder got a short-handed goal, and in the third, absolutely took over the game. Superb pulling-together performance. Lots of hits, a couple fights, good passing (eventually) and brilliant puck-possession in the third by the Thunder. Good stuff.
31. Lopsided wins for my favorite hockey team. I just love 'em.
This morning I woke to the Pittsburgh Penguins beating the tar out of the brain-dead thugs who beat people up while wearing Philadelphia Flyers jerseys. My hatred for the Flyers, as has been documented here, is unspeakable, deep, abiding, and the cause of a great deal of cursing. Today I recognized the fatal flaw in the Flyers strategy was that, when a team like the Penguins forces them to try to play hockey, they really can't. Penguins, 7-1. Evgeni Malkin and Petr Sykora had 2 goals and 2 assists, each. Zappo.
30. Long winning streaks for one of my favorite hockey teams. I just love 'em.
San Jose Sharks, 11 in a row. Zowie.
Monday, March 10, 2008
another new song
'Tis the season, I suppose. Actually, the recording is a long time coming.
This one is called Try This At Home.
My righteous dude Jim "The Most Optimistic Man In America With a Soundclick Page" Williams has told me he thinks it's 1/3 too long. Dunno. On one hand, I see where he's coming from. On another hand, I like the way it gradually unfolds.
This one is called Try This At Home.
My righteous dude Jim "The Most Optimistic Man In America With a Soundclick Page" Williams has told me he thinks it's 1/3 too long. Dunno. On one hand, I see where he's coming from. On another hand, I like the way it gradually unfolds.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Thursday, March 06, 2008
a whole new meaning to being stoned
A new study by an Israeli psychologist suggests that the ancient Israelites were high as kites, which would explain the burning bush and blaring trumpets all right, but wouldn't it also explain a lot of what went on in Leviticus, too? Just a bit?
In any case, it's good to read that, like most other reputable world religions, Judaism apparently based some of its theological insights on hallucinations. Really, what better source of moral law could there possibly be?
In any case, it's good to read that, like most other reputable world religions, Judaism apparently based some of its theological insights on hallucinations. Really, what better source of moral law could there possibly be?
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
just noticing
Since some time during the final phases of the Clinton administration, news media are less and less presenting unemployment and jobless statistics and federal budget data. During the Clinton administration, this may have been because of the economic good times: unemployment across the US was something under 4% for a while there (though, of course, in the San Joaquin valley it was still close to 10%), and the federal budget was in surplus.
But now, those data would seem to be important again as evidence for claims about the health or illness of the economy and the federal coffers. No? But what's the current jobless rate in the US? And how high is the budget deficit now?
I don't watch TV news, for a variety of reasons, so I don't have a complete picture of mainstream news media these days. I do, however, read newspapers (online, that is), and listen to NPR with some frequency. So on balance, I believe this is an accurate observation.
But now, those data would seem to be important again as evidence for claims about the health or illness of the economy and the federal coffers. No? But what's the current jobless rate in the US? And how high is the budget deficit now?
I don't watch TV news, for a variety of reasons, so I don't have a complete picture of mainstream news media these days. I do, however, read newspapers (online, that is), and listen to NPR with some frequency. So on balance, I believe this is an accurate observation.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
things for the spring
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
34. Lucrative tax returns. I just love 'em.
I deliberately have more than my share of income tax withdrawn from my pay, in part because I'm anxious about the specter of having to pay big bucks to the government at tax time, but mainly because I have no head whatsoever for any of this money stuff, and the tax return windfall feels like I've managed to do something fiscally prudent. (It's not, of course. The best way to swing this would be to calculate close to the precise amount you'll ultimately owe the government, and pocket/save/collect interest on the rest. I'm no good at that.)
We got about 4 grand back this year. We've filed, but haven't got our scratch yet. Last year we got about the same, and spent a grand or so on our delightful loveseat.
33. Storage solutions. I just love 'em.
This year we spent $300 on storage for visual media, of which we have a ton. We've got oodles of media, truth be told, and it's all over the place. Lauren built us some super-keen boho pine-board-n-cinder-block shelves to store the DVDs and VHS tapes, which we eventually covered with the rainbow peace-sign flag I got Lauren as a surprise a year ago or so.
[rainbow flag video shelves. keen.]
But the new solution is, if you'll pardon the expression, heap better. These are Ikea "Billy" bookcases, with doors and extra shelves. Images courtesy of the new camera, by the way.
[Ikea bookcase media storage. a little keener.]
... and, just because you've been good ...
almond blossoms!
In any case, it's also the time of year when we celebrate a pair of
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
34. Lucrative tax returns. I just love 'em.
I deliberately have more than my share of income tax withdrawn from my pay, in part because I'm anxious about the specter of having to pay big bucks to the government at tax time, but mainly because I have no head whatsoever for any of this money stuff, and the tax return windfall feels like I've managed to do something fiscally prudent. (It's not, of course. The best way to swing this would be to calculate close to the precise amount you'll ultimately owe the government, and pocket/save/collect interest on the rest. I'm no good at that.)
We got about 4 grand back this year. We've filed, but haven't got our scratch yet. Last year we got about the same, and spent a grand or so on our delightful loveseat.
33. Storage solutions. I just love 'em.
This year we spent $300 on storage for visual media, of which we have a ton. We've got oodles of media, truth be told, and it's all over the place. Lauren built us some super-keen boho pine-board-n-cinder-block shelves to store the DVDs and VHS tapes, which we eventually covered with the rainbow peace-sign flag I got Lauren as a surprise a year ago or so.
But the new solution is, if you'll pardon the expression, heap better. These are Ikea "Billy" bookcases, with doors and extra shelves. Images courtesy of the new camera, by the way.
... and, just because you've been good ...
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
it's 10:04 - do you know where your things are?
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
36. High-tech toys. I just love 'em.
One of my great moral failings is my unseemly delight in electronic gadgets. We bought a Kodak digital camera today to replace the stupid old PukePix Shootslikecrap that we bought at Target several years ago. The Kodak is a mighty machine, and we armed it with a 4-gig memory card, which holds nearly 1600 images (at 8 megapixels per), or a ridiculous amount of video with audio (yep, does that). It has 6 different image capture modes. Gonna be a lot of fun.
While at the toy store, we saw the new Mac laptop that's 10 mils thick, the Air MacJordan or whatever the heck it's called. The Apple people, if I hadn't mentioned, are not allowed in the house. Evil, evil people. Of course we want one!
37. Block-buster NHL trade deadline deals. I just love 'em.
Our beloved Pittsburgh Penguins made a good trade for 6'7" defenseman Hal Gill, whose job description includes "beatdowns," as well as "getting all them buggers out of the front of the net." They need that.
But they also made the biggest trade of the season, with minutes to spare, for big-time goal-scorer Marian Hossa. Nobody expected this. In fact, their general manager, Ray Shero, swore up and down that he wasn't going to make a big deal.
They also got a useful player, Pascal Dupuis, who in addition to being French-Canadian, is also a decent checker. They had to trade away a promising winger, Erik Christensen, a potentially dynamite prospect, Angelo Esposito, and a huge fan favorite and teammate favorite, Colby Armstrong. Apparently, the Fox Sports Pittsburgh broadcast of tonight's Penguins-Islanders game included fan reaction: weeping over Colby leaving. Lauren is also very upset, because Colby and Crusher (Erik's nickname: everybody who plays hockey goes by a nickname, by international law) were two of her favorite Penguins.
Ray Shero isn't allowed in the house, either.
36. High-tech toys. I just love 'em.
One of my great moral failings is my unseemly delight in electronic gadgets. We bought a Kodak digital camera today to replace the stupid old PukePix Shootslikecrap that we bought at Target several years ago. The Kodak is a mighty machine, and we armed it with a 4-gig memory card, which holds nearly 1600 images (at 8 megapixels per), or a ridiculous amount of video with audio (yep, does that). It has 6 different image capture modes. Gonna be a lot of fun.
While at the toy store, we saw the new Mac laptop that's 10 mils thick, the Air MacJordan or whatever the heck it's called. The Apple people, if I hadn't mentioned, are not allowed in the house. Evil, evil people. Of course we want one!
37. Block-buster NHL trade deadline deals. I just love 'em.
Our beloved Pittsburgh Penguins made a good trade for 6'7" defenseman Hal Gill, whose job description includes "beatdowns," as well as "getting all them buggers out of the front of the net." They need that.
But they also made the biggest trade of the season, with minutes to spare, for big-time goal-scorer Marian Hossa. Nobody expected this. In fact, their general manager, Ray Shero, swore up and down that he wasn't going to make a big deal.
They also got a useful player, Pascal Dupuis, who in addition to being French-Canadian, is also a decent checker. They had to trade away a promising winger, Erik Christensen, a potentially dynamite prospect, Angelo Esposito, and a huge fan favorite and teammate favorite, Colby Armstrong. Apparently, the Fox Sports Pittsburgh broadcast of tonight's Penguins-Islanders game included fan reaction: weeping over Colby leaving. Lauren is also very upset, because Colby and Crusher (Erik's nickname: everybody who plays hockey goes by a nickname, by international law) were two of her favorite Penguins.
Ray Shero isn't allowed in the house, either.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Lulu's back in town (me too)
Puebla is gorgeous.
My doneness, on a scale from 1 to 10, is about 17. I think I taught classes today. I think they went well, too.
I'm watching a DVD of a 1993 Penguins-Rangers game, which is only important because it's the game in which the Pens set the NHL record for consecutive wins.
In any case, it's time for
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
37. Comidas tipicas de Puebla. I just love 'em.
One good way to visit a place is to eat the food. Especially if that someplace is Puebla. Oh, Moose alive, is the food in Puebla incredible.
Of course, there's mole poblano, the chocolate-based sauce that is best-known and most closely associated with Puebla. This is astounding. It's got something like 800 ingredients, and tastes like centuries, pepper, garlic, turkey stock, unspeakable herbs, blood, magic, with a hint of stardust.
But as incredible, as obviously the most vastly superior sauce any human has ever made as mole poblano is, I can't decide if I'm not fonder of pipian verde or pipian rojo . It's ridiculous.
36. Good conferences. I just love 'em.
We went to Puebla for the 10th annual meeting of the Society for Phenomenology and Media. I'm the only person who's been to every conference, which is a point of irrational pride.
In recent years, SPaM (affectionately) has had some rough times. Conference papers have sometimes been weaker than they should have been, there's been strife of various sorts. But this year was stronger and gave me hope that the future is bright for us.
The hidden fact here is that the Society for Phenomenology and Media once gave me a reason to hope when I didn't have one. This year, again, it fit together well, it made sense, and the papers were very very good.
My doneness, on a scale from 1 to 10, is about 17. I think I taught classes today. I think they went well, too.
I'm watching a DVD of a 1993 Penguins-Rangers game, which is only important because it's the game in which the Pens set the NHL record for consecutive wins.
In any case, it's time for
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
37. Comidas tipicas de Puebla. I just love 'em.
One good way to visit a place is to eat the food. Especially if that someplace is Puebla. Oh, Moose alive, is the food in Puebla incredible.
Of course, there's mole poblano, the chocolate-based sauce that is best-known and most closely associated with Puebla. This is astounding. It's got something like 800 ingredients, and tastes like centuries, pepper, garlic, turkey stock, unspeakable herbs, blood, magic, with a hint of stardust.
But as incredible, as obviously the most vastly superior sauce any human has ever made as mole poblano is, I can't decide if I'm not fonder of pipian verde or pipian rojo . It's ridiculous.
36. Good conferences. I just love 'em.
We went to Puebla for the 10th annual meeting of the Society for Phenomenology and Media. I'm the only person who's been to every conference, which is a point of irrational pride.
In recent years, SPaM (affectionately) has had some rough times. Conference papers have sometimes been weaker than they should have been, there's been strife of various sorts. But this year was stronger and gave me hope that the future is bright for us.
The hidden fact here is that the Society for Phenomenology and Media once gave me a reason to hope when I didn't have one. This year, again, it fit together well, it made sense, and the papers were very very good.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
two things for a bright springlike afternoon
Doc Nagel's Top 100 Things
38. Multi-purpose gag lines. I just love 'em.
Down in LA to get out of our place and our headspace for a couple days, we watched two excellent Penguins wins over the weekend (on Saturday against the very sad LA Kings, on Sunday against the vile and hated Philadelphia Flyers). During the Flyers game, which featured typical Flyers thuggery, it occurred to me just how little actual defense their defensemen play, especially Darien Hatcher. Hatcher can't skate, doesn't hit anybody, is often out of position, and I think he realizes this, so he makes up for it by simply cross-checking anyone he can reach. He's disgusting.
I thought to myself, if I played against the Flyers, I would feel stupider and less talented, because nature abhors a vacuum.
Thus was born our latest multi-purpose gag line. You can use it in all sorts of situations:
Political debates: Candidate A must hate debating Candidate Z. Every time they debate, Candidate A gets stupider and loses leadership ability, because nature abhors a vacuum.
Teaching critical thinking: You know, after reading this paper, I suddenly can't tell whether this is a valid argument or not. I've lost most of my logical ability, because nature abhors a vacuum.
Divorce proceedings: It's so upsetting to have to face my ex in court. Whenever I'm there, I feel like I've lost my capacity for empathy and human decency, because nature abhors a vacuum.
Committee meetings: It's no wonder bureaucrats talk like they do. They used to be able to communicate in plain English, but not after all those committee meetings. After all, nature abhors a vacuum.
39. Hockey sticks. I just love 'em.
We also bought hockey sticks. I haven't owned one in I don't know how long. Lauren's brother Zach had bought one, and that prompted me. It's not a big deal, I didn't get one of the $100 composite things that always snap, I just got laminated wood. We shot pucks around for an hour or two, and we bought a puck suitable for street use, so we're about to make tons of friends in the neighborhood with our rowdy hockeying activities.
38. Multi-purpose gag lines. I just love 'em.
Down in LA to get out of our place and our headspace for a couple days, we watched two excellent Penguins wins over the weekend (on Saturday against the very sad LA Kings, on Sunday against the vile and hated Philadelphia Flyers). During the Flyers game, which featured typical Flyers thuggery, it occurred to me just how little actual defense their defensemen play, especially Darien Hatcher. Hatcher can't skate, doesn't hit anybody, is often out of position, and I think he realizes this, so he makes up for it by simply cross-checking anyone he can reach. He's disgusting.
I thought to myself, if I played against the Flyers, I would feel stupider and less talented, because nature abhors a vacuum.
Thus was born our latest multi-purpose gag line. You can use it in all sorts of situations:
Political debates: Candidate A must hate debating Candidate Z. Every time they debate, Candidate A gets stupider and loses leadership ability, because nature abhors a vacuum.
Teaching critical thinking: You know, after reading this paper, I suddenly can't tell whether this is a valid argument or not. I've lost most of my logical ability, because nature abhors a vacuum.
Divorce proceedings: It's so upsetting to have to face my ex in court. Whenever I'm there, I feel like I've lost my capacity for empathy and human decency, because nature abhors a vacuum.
Committee meetings: It's no wonder bureaucrats talk like they do. They used to be able to communicate in plain English, but not after all those committee meetings. After all, nature abhors a vacuum.
39. Hockey sticks. I just love 'em.
We also bought hockey sticks. I haven't owned one in I don't know how long. Lauren's brother Zach had bought one, and that prompted me. It's not a big deal, I didn't get one of the $100 composite things that always snap, I just got laminated wood. We shot pucks around for an hour or two, and we bought a puck suitable for street use, so we're about to make tons of friends in the neighborhood with our rowdy hockeying activities.
Friday, February 08, 2008
in questionable taste
First off:
Of course, I was thinking: FEMA.
I'm modifying the list of people not allowed in the house. I'm prepared at this point to remove Regina Spektor from the list, inasmuch as we'd love to have her for dinner.
It may be helpful to clarify that being included on the official Not Allowed In The House list is not, in almost all cases, meant as a sign of disrespect, nor a criticism of the work of the people on the list. We love Bjørk, for instance, we just think it's prudent not to allow her in the house. That said:
In a controversial decision, Steely Dan is allowed in the house, as long as they don't bring their cousins.
In other news, imagine you're the Republican Party. You're holding a presidential nominating election across numerous states. John McCain keeps winning delegates, and suddenly you're down to McCain and Mike Huckabee. Wow.
Are we ever ripe for a third candidate election. Yeesh to follow.
In the aftermath of stunningly deadly and destructive tornadoes, this hard-hit community now has other worries — looters, power shortages and a large number of residents still unaccounted for.
Of course, I was thinking: FEMA.
I'm modifying the list of people not allowed in the house. I'm prepared at this point to remove Regina Spektor from the list, inasmuch as we'd love to have her for dinner.
It may be helpful to clarify that being included on the official Not Allowed In The House list is not, in almost all cases, meant as a sign of disrespect, nor a criticism of the work of the people on the list. We love Bjørk, for instance, we just think it's prudent not to allow her in the house. That said:
In a controversial decision, Steely Dan is allowed in the house, as long as they don't bring their cousins.
In other news, imagine you're the Republican Party. You're holding a presidential nominating election across numerous states. John McCain keeps winning delegates, and suddenly you're down to McCain and Mike Huckabee. Wow.
Are we ever ripe for a third candidate election. Yeesh to follow.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
morbidly obese Tuesday
Happy voting!
Today could turn out to be Superphat Tuesday for your favorite candidate!
We're walking to the polls after breakfast (coffee cake; coffee; a pear). More later.
Today could turn out to be Superphat Tuesday for your favorite candidate!
We're walking to the polls after breakfast (coffee cake; coffee; a pear). More later.
Monday, February 04, 2008
pulling together
I collected Lancelot's remains from the vet's office this afternoon. That prompted a mental conversation, in which I tried to explain to him that we tried our best and did what we thought was best.
One reason this was so difficult is my firm belief that Lancelot never wanted to give up. He had given up on recovering, but he never seemed to ask us for an end. I was thinking about the last couple days with him, how he spent most of his time looking out windows, isolating himself (which, if you knew Lance, you know is very strange behavior for him). Lauren was sure he was trying to get outside and find somewhere to hide. When he wasn't doing that he was trying to get some comfort from us, but he never really could.
I'm going to try writing about something else henceforth. We're in a state of mind now where we can think about life, the world, and the future again. Things that had disappeared or seemed utterly trivial are starting to have weight again.
Thanks to everyone for supporting us and helping us.
One reason this was so difficult is my firm belief that Lancelot never wanted to give up. He had given up on recovering, but he never seemed to ask us for an end. I was thinking about the last couple days with him, how he spent most of his time looking out windows, isolating himself (which, if you knew Lance, you know is very strange behavior for him). Lauren was sure he was trying to get outside and find somewhere to hide. When he wasn't doing that he was trying to get some comfort from us, but he never really could.
I'm going to try writing about something else henceforth. We're in a state of mind now where we can think about life, the world, and the future again. Things that had disappeared or seemed utterly trivial are starting to have weight again.
Thanks to everyone for supporting us and helping us.
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