Fish Sticks and Classical Music

Before getting to Part II of Mass Madness, I want to address something Mike brought up in a recent comment. Responding to Mass Madness Part I, Mike wrote:

"This whole thing makes me wonder to what degree the 'culture industry' is following the populace, and to what degree it's leading it. Suppose the powers that be in entertainment decided that we all needed to be listening to Mozart...."

This is an interesting question. What would happen if the powers that be decided to mass market Mozart? Not a whole lot, I think. I doubt very much that Mozart, in his classical form, would catch on with the general populace. Hooked on Classics (remember that classical music set to a disco beat drivel?), on the other hand, might make a splash.

If an artifact is to catch on with the masses, it must be both physically and psychologically accessible. Physically accessible means an artifact must be both available (carried in stores) and affordable (priced so that most people could purchase the product). Fish sticks are physically accessible for most us; caviar is not. A product that's psychologically accessible is one that most people can comprehend; the product isn't too intellectual, complex, outlandish, offensive, or different. Once again, most of us can wrap our minds around the idea of eating fish sticks. Caviar is a little too different for a great many people.

The idea of a High Culture/Mass Culture/Low culture hierarchy or continuum compliments the notions of physical and psychological accessibility. An artifact that falls in the category of high culture is something that's inaccessible to most of the mass public. A high culture artifact might be too intellectual, complex, or expensive for the average person. For instance, most of the general populace doesn't have the knowledge necessary to really understand and appreciate a Jackson Pollock or Matisse. At the opposite end of the spectrum, low culture, are artifacts from street and folk culture. While most of the these artifacts meet the affordability requirement, they might not be available or easily understood. New musical genres often start as low culture art forms; bluegrass, jazz, punk, and hip hop all started as folk practices. Jazz, even though it's readily accessible in most music stores, perplexes the average listener. Certain styles of fashion, like Goth or Punk, are considered too different or abrasive and never clear the psychological accessibility hurdle. Mass culture, then, is the area occupied by those artifacts generally accessible, both physically and psychologically, to most people.

Back to Mike's question. Classical music, despite its widespread physical availability, is psychologically inaccessible to a great many people. Oh, they enjoy a good classical score to a movie, but they're unlikely to sit down and listen to Mozart. Why? Classical music is extremely complex and requires at least some musical training to fully understand the nuances. So, even if the cultural industry started marketing Mozart like mad, I doubt we'd see classical music rise to the level of pop music. People treat Shakespeare in a similar way; they won't attend a classic performance ("I can't understand a thing they're saying!"), but they'll sit down and watch West Side Story (Romeo & Juliet), 10 Things I Hate About You (Taming of the Shrew), or O (Othello).

My question as a popular culture critic is this: Are we in danger of losing an art form when we see classic literature "rewritten" in what many consider a watered-down form?

Walk

I like to walk alone on country paths, rice plants and wild grasses on both sides, putting each foot down on the earth in mindfulness, knowing that I walk on the wondrous earth. In such moments, existence is a miraculous and mysterious reality.

People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child--our own two eyes. All is a miracle.

-Thich Nhat Hanh, "Miracle of Mindfulness"

Mass Madness: Part I

This piece, devoted to the supposed death of mass culture, and this piece, discussing another down year for the motion picture industry, got me thinking. Is mass culture really dead? Have consumers finally grown tired of stale, repetitive Hollywood fare?

Part I

The basic argument underlying the notion of mass culture isn't difficult to understand. In the early 20th century, largely as a result of the Industrial Revolution, the United States experienced a significant population migration from agrarian to urban communities. When this shift occurred, and continued through most of the 20th century, people lost many of the socializing institutions and organizations that contribute to the development of cultural attitudes, values, and beliefs. Becoming increasingly distant from our comrades, we see a reduction of face-to-face interactions (e.g. cell phones, email, text messaging), have less contact with extended family, and we might not know our neighbors (e.g. tall fences separate property where there used to be known). As a result of this atomization, mass culture theorists argue we've become more susceptible to the influences of institutions like popular culture. With fewer friends, family members, and socializing institutions in our lives, we turn to popular culture to learn appropriate behavior, fashion, and the like.

With me to this point? Okay, the culture industry, the producers of cultural products for consumption by the masses (e.g. television programs, films, books, music), have one basic goal: profit. As such, the powers-that-be within the culture industry almost always strive to make their product as consumable by as many people as possible. More people buying a product = more profit. Economics 101. Here's the rub: most people within the culture industry don't care that popular culture has become a major socializing institution. Money becomes the driving force and healthy cultural values, a sense of ethics, takes a back seat.

What we wind up with, and I think there's evidence of this just about everywhere we turn, is a kind of cultural homogeneity; our cultural products become vapid and vacuous, devoid of any significant meaning. The trend is toward producing another highly consumable My Humps, The Dukes of Hazzard, or yet another horrifyingly bad reality television show, rather than a product that asks us to consider important moral or ethical questions. In the hopes of making loads of money, everything starts to look the same. We see one boy band start to cash in, we see a dozen boy bands flood the market. Art, music, and fashion that doesn't prove immediately profitable gets pushed to the side making it more difficult for consumers to procure. The end result is bland, non-intellectual, morally ambiguous fare foisted upon a consuming public comprised of cultural dopes. In essence, people within the culture industry say to the consuming public, "If you'll keep lapping this crap up, and pay big bucks for it, we'll keep pumping it out."

Ultimately, mass culture critics ask a fundamental question: if our society lacks significant socializing influences and popular culture has become a major variable in socialization, should the cultural industry be more congnizant of their role in society? Should the culture industry strive to produce quality material that takes more than the bottom line into consideration? This doesn't mean the culture industry has to agree on what values are good for our society; a variety of viewpoints encourages consumers to engage in public dialogues about issues of importance.

Time for a break and some holiday errands. In Part II I'll return to the original question at hand: Is mass culture dead?

Good Day Sunshine

Happy Yule, everyone. STK, TLO, and I started our Yule celebration last weekend with the local Unitarian Universalists.* I'm drawn to the Unitarians in that the organization doesn't celebrate one particular spiritual but all of them. That's right, you'll find Christian, Earth-based, Hindu, Jewish, [insert belief system of choice here] practices throughout the year. As someone who self-identifies as a Tao Buddhist Witch, the eclectic spiritual mix from one worship service to the next appeals to me. Go figure. With the Solstice, Hannukah, Kawaanza, and Christmas celebrated in close temporal proximity, the theme for Sunday's gathering was birth and the return of light.

Last night, Wednesday, we celebrated the return of the sun and warmer weather (which can't come too soon for me) by opening our holiday gifts. Boy, did TLO clean up on the goodies. He was more interested in the wrapping paper, of course, but he'll enjoy the toys, books, and clothes for many months, maybe years, to come. STK and I didn't make out too poorly either. STK's folks hooked me up with six months of fresh Kaladi Bros coffee beans delivered right to our front door. I received a pound of Starbucks winter blend from my sister-in-law and her family. You just can't go wrong giving me coffee . . . unless you try to give me decaf anything or Folgers/Whichever-crappy-commercial-blend-packed-in-a-can/Maxwell House. That will score no points and might result in a horribly tacky gift sent your way the following year. We received an assortment of appropriate holiday ornaments and decorations; a black and silver ornament scored big points. All in all, our first Yule with the TLO proved a joyous occasion.

And for all those who think war has been declared on Christmas (I'm talking to you, O'Reilly), I wish you Happy Holidays!

*One of STK's acquaintances refers to the local Unitarian group as "The hippies." I can think of worse groups with which to be affiliated.

Forget it, Ming; Dale's with Me!

Someone is finally speaking some sense about the religious sham known as intelligent design.

ID is not Science.

ID is a sham in that the entire concept is faith masquerading as science. If someone believes the universe was created by a supreme being, fine by me. I don't happen to agree, but you have the right to follow your own belief system. What you don't have the right to do is expose my child to your religious beliefs in a public school classroom. Intelligent design clearly crosses that boundary and I'm thrilled to see a judge making a decision that protects my right to separation of Church and State.

Hell to the Chief

The President is giving a speech this evening. Let me save you the 20 minutes. Here's what you'll hear:

The recent elections are a testament to the will and determination of the Iraqi people. Let freedom ring. Stay the course. We will not give in to terrorists. Freedom. Safety. All that jazz. Democracy is hard work. Stay the course. Victory. We will not leave the Iraqi people until the job is done. Freedom. Safety. Stay the course. Victory. Terrorists!

How many times are we going to hear the same thing? You know, I have no doubt the recent elections are an amazing accomplishment. My biggest gripe with this entire war, besides it being a violent solution to a problem that had non-violent solutions, has to do with the means by which the administration is trying to accomplish their ends. It's as if the administration decided the ends justified any means. I've been thinking about this for a couple days now; stay tuned for my discussion of ethics, means, and ends.

Fragments

One of STK's aunts died last Saturday; she and TLO have been out of town since Sunday morning. The house is too freakin' quiet.

Finals week is coming to a close and I'm staying on top of all the grading. Barring a natural disaster, I'll submit completed course grades tonight. With grades finished, I'll turn my attention to my upcoming science fiction and fantasy as electronic equipment for living course. I have a primary textbook picked out and I'm pulling together a collection of articles for electronic reserve.

I treated myself to the Wednesday 21:01 premiere of King King. If you liked the original, you must go see this movie. I absolutely loved it. Reviews of the film are overwhelming positive, as they should be.
Edelstein.
Rainer
Puig
Next up, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.

Conversational Realities

SP: Can I help you?
Me: I'll have a vegetarian burrito with black beans.
SP: No meat?
Me: Uh, what?
SP: No meat on your burrito?
Me: No meat. That would be vegetarian.

Bad Santa

STK and I are not Christian. That said, we do celebrate the holiday season . . . the Winter Solstice season. The tree in our house is a Yule tree, not a Christmas tree. We won't attend a Christmas worship service, although we'll likely celebrate the season of light with a group of Unitarian Universalists. Recently, STK and I had a discussion regarding whether or not we'll deceive our kid with the story of the big red man in the suit. Even though he's typically associated with Christmas, Santa's pretty secular. To make a long story short, we've decided we won't tell TLO that Santa Claus is real. We'll read the stories, watch the holiday specials, and even put a present under the tree from Santa, I suspect. However, our child will always know Santa is a figment of our imagination, that he's a character who represents the true spirit of giving.

When we made the decision, I knew most people would disagree with our choice. What I didn't anticipate was the reaction from some unexpected quarters. The most disturbing response came from one of our close friends who essentially accused us of depriving our child of a magical part of childhood. She proceeded to lecture us on the secular nature of Santa Claus, his pagan toots, the magic she experienced as a little girl, blah, blah, blah. The funniest part of the diatribe is that she recently discovered paganism, like four months ago; STK and I have affiliated with pagan traditions for nearly a decade. Uh, we understand the similar light imagery across all the spiritual holidays from this time of year. We understand Santa's secular nature. The idea we're stealing some magical aspect of childhood from TLO is laughable. As parents who do acknowledge pagan traditions, our child will probably know a bit more about real magick than most.

There's also apparently some concern our child will spoil the Santa secret for other kids. We'll teach TLO about honoring other beliefs and traditions and we'll remind him that it's not his place to dispell the myths in which others believe. We'll go out of our way to exposehim to as many of the various holiday practices as possible and teach him about the validity of all spiritual paths and beliefs. I wonder if other parents teach their kids similar lessons? Can I say TLO will never spill the beans? No. That would be a silly assertion to make. So, I can't say TLO will never say to another kid, "My folks say Santa isn't real" but he'll be encouraged to keep silent. We'll do our best but, as with most things concerning children, never say never.

I wonder if dispensing with the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy will garner a similar response?

Toasty

I'm wearing new slippers, wool hiking socks, long underwear, and a quilted flannel. For the first time in several days, I'm warm. Oh, and it's -17 outside. Eek! To quote Yukon Cornelius, "It's not a fit night for [human] nor beast." Just watched Rudolph a couple nights back--that program never gets old.

Not a whole lot going on right now. The semester is winding down which means I'll have a stack of papers to grade by this weekend and a stack of final exams to grade next week. I think we have nearly a week after finals to get grades calculated and turned in so no great stress there.

::shivers::

Predicted high of 12 degrees today; 10 tomorrow ::flicks icicle off nose::

Unselfish Attitude

We confuse attachment with love. Attachment is concerned with my needs, my happiness, while love is an unselfish attitude, concerned with the needs and happiness of others....

A relationship free of unrealistic grasping is free of disappointment, conflict, jealousy, and other problems, and is fertile ground for the growth of love and wisdom.

-Kathleen McDonald, "How to Meditate"

Terror in the Midwest!

It's been a very scary week for a couple of reasons. First, we're experiencing the first real cold snap of the winter months . . . and I'm not liking the start of the midwest chill. Not. One. Bit. It hasn't been above freezing for over a week and isn't supposed to climb above 20 until Friday. That's six more days of freezing my ass off. I'm usually not all that susceptible to the cold but something is amiss these days. Seriously, I haven't been warm in at least 10 days, maybe a couple of weeks. Yes, I know about layering. In effort to warm my chilled bones--STK says it's because I don't have more than an ounce of fat on my body--I've been wearing four shirts: undershirt, long-sleeved thermal shirt, another t-shirt, and a quilted flannel. That's right, a quilted flannel. Look, I was sporting the grunge look before anyone even knew Kurt Cobain. Off my back. Even with my not-so-alternative quilted flannel, I still can't manage to get warm. The problem is the lower half of my body. STK, TLO, and I hunted and gathered a couple pairs of long johns yesterday and that helped a little. Still, despite wool socks my toes are perpetually cold. That's one of the hazards of wearing steel-capped boots; once those caps get chilled, they take forever to warm. Slippers solved the problem for a couple of days but, as you'll soon understand, the toasty footware ultimately met a rather unceremonious demise. Sierra Trading Post to the rescue. Please get here soon! I mentioned my freezing problem to my mother a few days ago. I received an email this morning that said, "Keep an eye on the mail. Warm clothes are on the way. I've sent some wool socks, thermal underwear, and a couple more quilted flannels." Too funny.

The second moment of terror, and far more serious than me freezing my ass off 24/7, involves TLO. As a result of my old slippers, slippers with a rather slick bottom, I slipped down the stairs leading from the 2nd to 1st floor. TLO had just finished his evening bath and I was carrying him back downstairs. With about five stairs to go, my feet totally slipped out from underneath me. Not a little slip, but a complete loss of footing. Think feet-shooting-out-from-underneath-on-a-patch-of-ice kind of slip. To make matters worse, I typically carry TLO facing forward. For whatever reason, he's not much for the head on the shoulder thing. He's much more of the "let me face the world head on" type. So, I usually carry him in the crook of arm, his legs dangling and his hands free. When I fell and crashed on the stairs, I managed to keep him out in front me; thank the goddess I didn't drop him in an attempt to catch myself. I slammed into the stairs, TLO pitched forward, I started to slide down the few remaining stairs, shot my right arm forward to catch a flying baby, twisted my body around, and crashed into a bookcase/curios type thing. Despite the pain shooting through my body, I jumped up, ran to the sofa, and immediately did a first aid assessment of TLO. TLO cried, while STK and I freaked out. TLO escaped without a scratch; I wound up with bumps, bruises, and one scratch. If that's the price for keeping TLO safe and sound, I'll take it. Once I knew TLO was unharmed, I marched myself to the kitchen and deposited the slippery slippers in the garbage.

Cool Pic

Check out the cool lava waterfall!

Someday, I hope to see this kind of thing in person. From a distance, of course.

We'd Like to Announce a Trade

One of the hazards of frequenting NBA message boards (I check a couple Denver Nuggets boards a dozen or so times a day) is the dreaded "Trade" thread. At least once a week, someone offers a freakin ridiculously one-sided trade scenario. I found this little gem posted to a board on which these silly trades scenarios are an all-too-frequent occurrence. Too damn funny.

Yao Ming, Stromile Swift and Derek Anderson Traded to Kings for Brad Miller, Mike Bibby and Shareef Abdur-Rahim.

By JONATHAN FEIGEN
Copyright 2005 Houston Chronicle

HOUSTON - The Rockets' are the first team this season to make a major trade. Struggling and desperate from an early losing streak, the Rockets have traded one of their supposed franchise players and two of their recent off-season acquisitions.

"Jeff and I were talking and did not like the direction this team was heading in. We aren't playing hard and I am willing to give up our players if they do not play hard enough," Rockets General Manager Carroll Dawson Said

"Despite injuries from several of our top players, we decided that these three players were responsible for their losses. I initially did not want to trade Yao due to his steady development and relatively increased aggression this year, but after this string of losses, I thought this would be the best way to punish him." Rockets coach Jeff Van Gundy said.

"Most of all, I am really looking forward to having Mike Bibby, Rafer Alston, Bob Sura, Moochie Norris, Luther Head, Dion Glover and David Wesley sharing responsibilities at the point."

Van Gundy said that he had never considered the possibility of trading Yao until he got the idea from a Rockets online forum.

"I brought the idea to Carroll and Les and they agreed that Yao really sucks right now. One of these basketball gurus online seemed to really know his stuff and we decided, what the hell, let's listen to this apparent brilliant person instead. Yao Mink has not been playing well, and we knew that the trade value for Yao Mink was still enough for us to get an equally talented player like Brad Miller."

Les Alexander agreed, "We always thought that by drafting a player like Yao, we would get a lot of money since there are like a billion people in China and they would all buy his jersey. When Jeff showed us this post online, I re-thought things and realized that there are a bunch of white people in the United States and they have more money! I am sure all the white people in the US will be buying Brad Miller jerseys which should increase profits and recognition of our team. Additionally, Shareef will bring in the whole Muslim population and we know there are a lot of those too. It's like trading the profit of one race for two! I thought we got a damn good deal."

When Tracy McGrady was asked about his response to the trade, he responded, "My back hurts."

Forward Stromile Swift was also positive about the trade, "Houston is great but I always wanted to live in a city with more celebs. Overall, I'm pretty excited about moving to Los Angeles and playing for the Kings."

Being Dick

Wilkerson said that Cheney must have sincerely believed that Iraq could be a spawning ground for new terror assaults, because "otherwise I have to declare him a moron, an idiot or a nefarious bastard."

I'm going to go out on a limb here and select C) all of the above. Seriously, is there anyone who doesn't recognize Cheney as a moron, idiot, and nefarious bastard?

Houston We Have a Problem

It'll soon be December, finances are sure to be tighter than usual with holiday gifting, and my monitor decides to get all wonky. It's not unbearable, yet, but there's a noticeable flicker at the bottom of the screen. So, I've been online monitor shopping. I can't really afford to do anything too extravagant, but I would like to upgrade to an LCD (unless someone convinces me otherwise). The cost of shipping a CRT monitor to our remote location becomes a prohibitive factor. Even with a cheaper monitor, the shipping pushes a 19" screen into the $200 range. Here are some of the monitors I'm considering.

Acer
ViewSonic
NU

Any thoughts? This is the first time I've ventured into LCD territory on my own. I have a 15" LCD at school and love it. Anyone have any luck with online auctions for this kind of thing?

Leftovers

Everyone sick of leftovers from the holiday feast? Having various combinations of the same foods for three days, I'm ready for a little variety. Another day or two and the leftovers should be largely consumed. I'm very thankful for that.

This Thanksgiving holiday was the best in recent memory; in fact, this holiday ranks right up there on the Best Thanksgivings Ever list. No fighting traffic, rushing around to arrive at the family dinner on time, and no asking "is there meat in this?"

As I had the day off and STK worked until noon, our holiday events started Wednesday afternoon with our monthly journey to Larger Midwest City. Having lived here for four months, we've discovered we prefer Larger Midwest City Northeast to Larger Midwest City North. The drive is shorter, more picturesque, and LMCNE has everything we need: Target, Petsmart, Home Depot, and ToysRUs. The Honda dealership also makes LMCNE a bigger draw. We bundled up TLO, hopped in the trusty Element, and embarked on our monthly shopping spree. Diapers, organic baby formula, an oil-filled radiator,* and pet food were procured without difficulty. Arriving home, we fired up the oven and started to work on holiday fare, namely the pumpkin pie, vegetarian cornbread stuffing, and seven layer salad.

We slept late Thursday morning. About 10 AM we received a call from the inbound T & J--only an hour or so away, they recommended we prepare for their imminent arrival.** T & J, the husband and wife couple with whom we're closest, moved to Alabama a month or so back. As none of us are all that keen on the typical craziness of family holidays, we decided to spend Thanksgiving together. We absolutely adore T & J. They're progressive (they won't vote Democrat either), compassionate, funny, and geeky. Yes, they're a lot like us. They arrived and we dove into the kitchen to finish our vegetarian Thanksgiving feast. When all was said and done, the menu consisted of:

Sweet potato saute
Seven layer salad
Cornbread biscuit stuffing
Green bean casserole
Canned cranberry slop***
Celebration roast.
Apple cinnamon bake
Pumpkin pie
Vanilla ice cream
Cool Whip

We followed dinner with coffee and conversation; a delightful time was had by all.

*With winter quickly approaching, we've been winterizing the abode and exploring some way to spot heat the rooms in which we spend most of our time. As we spend the majority of our evenings in the living room, we decided to go with an oil-filled radiator. The electric radiator heats the contained oil so that even when the heating element isn't active, the warmed oil continues to produce heat.

**This is the same T & J from the Boston trip.

***J loves the canned cranberry stuff.

Community

I've been a regular poster on a Denver Nuggets message board for over a decade. The thing that's so interesting about this particular board is that most of the people there have also been posting for nearly a decade. Over the years, two particular posters have expressed a mild dislike for one another. While the dislike rarely boils over into full-fledged confrontation, the two take every pot shot available. Case in point. Poster #1, who lives out of town, mentions he'll be in Denver over the holiday and that he'll be catching an upcoming game with his fiance. Poster #2 responds:

I'll be there, Poster #1. I'm assuming you'll be the guy wearing a F&*k Melo t-shirt and a Klan hoodie, so I'll make sure to stop by and say hello. Let me know if you're gonna break out the powder blue and gold hoodie instead of the traditional white so I'm not thrown off.

Heheheheh. How can you not love internet smack?

The Boys Are Back in Town

The recent Rhetorical Imprints hiatus was the result of road trip to the NCA convention in Boston! Last Tuesday evening, as soon as I finished teaching, STK, TLO, and I packed up the family truckster and headed for the airport. Actually, we drove 4 hours through a snow storm, stayed at a hotel, and rode a shuttle to the airport the following morning. Staying in a hotel was preferable to getting up at 3 or 4 AM to make our 10:30 flight.

The trip itself was long, but without incident. We switched planes once, hopped a shuttle from the airport to the train station, rode a train to our destination city, then hailed a cab for the final jaunt to the Inn. Planes, trains, and automobiles, anyone? Given that TLO is only 5 months old, he did amazingly well. He had a brief, 5 minute cry while we waited to have the plane de-iced (an important process, methinks). Everyone we encountered commented on his superior travelling skills.

Once in Boston, T acted as our guide. She helped us learn the area close to the Inn and showed us how to ride the "T" to the convention area. Several years ago, as convention prices skyrocked, I started to avoid the sanctioned convention hotels. $200 a night is far beyond what I'm willing to pay for a place to flop. Thankfully, T & J hooked us up with a WAY cool inn on this trip. Yes, we were two miles away from the convention proper. For a $1.25 token, however, we were able to make the trip to the convention site in about 10 minutes or so.

The convention itself was fun, but hectic. When around 5000 people converge for an academic gathering, it's bound to get a little hectic. On Thursday, STK, TLO, T, and I spent the better part of the afternoon perusing the Publisher room. Textbooks, textbooks, and more textbooks! This is the 1st time I've really spent a significant amount of time going from publisher to publisher in search of new textbooks. As I have two new courses to teach next year, I really needed to see what was available. The two hours were well spent, I think. I walked away with three exam copies of textbooks and ordered three others. That's one of the major perks of being a professor I suppose; hand a publisher a business card from your school and they'll send you almost anything, free of charge. T, who will defend her dissertation in February and spent most of the convention interviewing with schools, quite literally cursed my ability to procure free reading material. At one point, we made a bet regarding my ability to pry a text away from a vendor (T had paid the vendor for a new text a few minutes before). I approached the vendor, made a few minutes small talk, noticed a book I could use for a class in January 2007, and walked away with a free copy. T offered enthusiastic praise for my abilities. I believe her exact words were, "Fucking asshole."

The rest of the convention blurred by in typical fashion: meet former colleagues, chat for a few minutes, speed off to lunch with other colleagues, catch a panel, present on a panel, race off to dinner with colleagues, try to see some of the local city, crash for a few hours at night. Repeat. Despite the craziness, this was one of the most enjoyable conventions I can remember. Much of that resulted from the presence of TLO and STK, no doubt. Even when they were off touring art museums with J--T & I were doing the convention thing--it was nice to know they were within a few miles.

On Saturday, we stayed away from the convention center and spent a couple hours seeing the historical sites. I finally managed to spend a few minutes with Samuel Adams, rabblerouser extraordinaire. Meeting the person on whom my MA thesis focused was a moving experience. I'll admit I even got a little choked up standing next to his resting place. From the cemetary we followed the Freedom Walk for a couple miles and checked out some of the significant locales of Boston history. While I would have liked to walk the entire trail, we simply didn't have enough time.

After repeating the taxi-train-shuttle-plane-plane-shuttle-auto routine, we arrived home Sunday evening. TLO travelled like a champ, once again. On the ride home STK and I talked about whether or not we miss city life. We decided that we did, but that we enjoy living in our present location even more. The city, with all its hussle, bussle, and never-ending activities possesses a certain allure; we always loved the clubs, the shows, the theater, the shopping, etc. That said, our current way of life is virtually stress free. Someday, when we're in the twilight of our years, I can see us returning to city life. Until then, it's the simple life.

Waterfowl

Live in the world like a waterfowl. The water clings to the bird, but the bird shakes it off. Live in the world like a mudfish. The fish lives in the mud, but its skin is always bright and shiny.

-Ramakrishna

From "Teachings of the Hindu Mystics," © 2001 by Andrew Harvey.

Who Voted God Out?

And don't wonder why He hasn't helped you when problems begin, if they begin. I'm not saying they will, but if they do, just remember, you just voted God out of your city. And if that's the case, don't ask for His help because he might not be there

Actually, Pat, people voted God out of the science curriculum of the public schools. Does anyone take Pat Robertson seriously? I mean really, this guy is still bent about all those failed Presidential election bids. I may not be the world's greatest theologian (in fact, I'm probably not even the greatest theologian on my block--an ordained minister with a Ph.D. in Religious Studies lives a couple houses down the street), but I'm thinking God doesn't have the time or energy to pay attention to school board elections.

Someone needs to give that crochety old crank a hug.

Really?

You are a Theory Slut. The true elite of the
postmodernists, you collect avant-garde
Indonesian hiphop compilations and eat journal
articles for breakfast. You positively live
for theory. It really doesn't matter what
kind, as long as the words are big and the
paragraph breaks few and far between.


What kind of postmodernist are you!?
brought to you by Quizilla

Bring on the Words

One week before my national convention and I'm still writing my paper. When will I ever learn? Considering I didn't really start writing until yesterday, the paper is actually coming along nicely. I hammered out the theory part of the essay in a six hour writing marathon. The introduction/problem is on the docket for tomorrow night and the analysis is scheduled for the weekend. I'm not really sure, but I think I might have a really interesting foundation for journal article emerging. Anyway, here's a snippet from the theory section.

-----
Hyde’s latest essay, "Acknowledgment, Conscience, Rhetoric, and Teaching: The Case of Tuesdays With Morrie," takes the ethics of communal living one step beyond the fitting response to the phenomenological and metaphysical realm of acknowledgment. Phenomenologically, Hyde (2005) describes acknowledgment as interacting with others in a way that "establishes an environment where people can take the time to know together some topic of interest and, in the process, perhaps gain a more authentic understanding of, and feel more at home with, those who are willing to contribute to its development" (p. 26). For Hyde, then, acknowledgment is more than making note of another’s presence in day to day interactions; to truly acknowledge someone is to offer a more intimate interaction, to show genuine concern for both their person and their well-being. Metaphysically, and this is where I believe Hyde offers tacit consent to a conception of rhetoric that emphasizes Becoming and accomplishing over Being, acknowledgment is a "life-giving gift" of existence granted to another (p. 23). To acknowledge another is to grant them social life, to affirm their value both as an individual and as a member of the community, and to bear witness to their meaningfulness. Opening ourselves, through the moral act of acknowledgment, to the inherent value of another’s radical difference offers the possibility for transformation; the unknowable difference of the other invokes a multitude of possibilities. Forging a significant connection with the other, and coming to the realization that we can never really know all the mysteries of the other, we catch a glimpse of infinite potentialities and embrace the almost incomprehensible tasks of meaning making, identity negotiation, and responsible communal living. As Hyde (2005) asserts, "we assume the ethical responsibility of affirming our freedom of choice and thereby become personally involved in the creation of a meaningful existence" (p. 27). Through our choice-making and creative accomplishing in the moment of human interaction, we engage in the rhetoric of Becoming.

Holy Turn-Back-The-Clock Batman!

At the risk of re-igniting the same heated nationwide debate it sparked six years ago, the Kansas Board of Education approved new public school science standards Tuesday that cast doubt on the theory of evolution.

You know, I'm getting extremely tired of religious wingnuts trying to shove their ideology down the collective throats of our society. Call it Intelligent Design, call it Creationism, call it Shirley, call it whatever the frack you please, you CANNOT TEACH RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLES IN A PUBLIC CLASSROOM. Seriously, how dense can these people be? We'll see this decision taken to court and, if necessary, all the way to the Supreme Court of the United States. And you know what will happen? The same thing that always happens: the religious zealots who thought they could pull one over with a little discursive sleight-of-hand will have their respective hands slapped and we'll go back to teaching science in the public schools and Creationism, er, Intelligent Design in the Sunday schools.

What a waste of time and taxpayer dollars.

The Coin of the Realm

Classic line from a recent flame war:

"Good grief, can no one shut Anthony up? If ignorance was the coin of the realm, he'd be wealthier than Bill Gates."

ROFL

The Fantastic Feast

Feast 68, Friday, November 04, 2005

Appetizer--What was the last game you purchased?
Star Wars: Battlefront.

Soup--Name something in which you don't believe.
Alien abduction.

Salad--If you could choose a television personality to be your boss, who would you pick?
Rupert Giles. I'm thinking a Watcher in training might be a pretty cool gig.

Main Course--What was a lesson you had to learn the hard way?
Just one? Well, not drinking is a lesson I had to learn again, and again, and again, again . . .

Dessert--Describe your idea of the perfect relaxation room.
Meditation bench & pillows. Incense. A nice bubbling fountain. A reading chair in a corner would be nice, too.

Kong!

Behold the Eighth Wonder of the World!

Kong is King.

The original King Kong is one of my favorite films. I can't wait to see Jackson's take on the story. Next to Revenge of the Sith, this is the film for which I've been waiting.

Same As It Ever Was

The Nuggets begin their season the way last season ended--by losing to the Spurs. Oh, and it looks like Nene might have a serious ligament injury. Didn't the Nuggs go through this 1st game injury thing with Voshon last year? Ick.

Have I mentioned how much I despise Nick Van Exel?

Or that Pluto might have three moons?

Not much else going on in these parts. Life is calm and that's a good thing.

Duh

In the latest poll, 55 percent of the respondents said that they would vote for the Democratic candidate if Bush were again running for the presidency this year.

What a difference a botched war, bungled hurricane response, and lame-ass Supreme Court Justice nomination makes. Good thing I'm not one to say, "I told you so." Oh, who am I kidding . . .

I told you so.

Satan Rocks!

If you haven't had your head in the sand (that's where it would have to be in order to avoid hearing about this), you know that a 16-year-old young adult was arrested for murdering Pamela Vitale. Now, I'll admit to knowing nothing about the actual murder. I usually don't pay attention to these murder cases that garner national attention. They're typically over-reported, under researched, and overexaggerated to the Nth degree. What caught my eye this morning, however, is the allegation that the
arrested youth is a Satanist.

Suspect Into Satan

When the "Satan" link hit the news a couple days back, you could predict what would come next. Some "expert" on the occult, cults, and all things dark, dank, and scary, would sound the alarm regarding a network of Satanic cults threatening our children. Guess what I found in the news this morning?

Satanic Crime and Murder

Several years ago, one of STK's family members lost a pet to a supposed gang of Satanic youth who listened to death metal. This horrifying gang reportedly terrorized several suburbs of the Denver Metro area trapping local pets, mutilating their bodies, and leaving them to die in their respective yards. When I first heard the story I thought it sounded a little fishy. If the authorities had information on a group of Satanic youth who sacrificed pets--they even told STK's relative what kind of music the Satanists listened to--why couldn't they catch them? I mean, how difficult would it be to watch these kids, discern their activities, and cuff 'em? Several months after the Satanic Cult Infiltrates Denver Suburbs hubbub, and dozens of pet sacrifices later, one of the police units decided to call in an expert: a wildlife biologist. Lo and behold, the biologist reported that the wounds on the pets were similar to wounds produced by various predators, namely coyotes, foxes, and owls. Oddly enough, coyotes, foxes, and owls all call the Denver Metro area suburbs home.

Okay, so this most recent murder obviously isn't the work of natural predators. That's well established. My objection is to the sensationalist "Satanic Networks are Invading our Country" crap. There are a handful of supposed Occult/Satanism/Satanic Cult specialists who always surface after these incidents. These folks have been making the rounds on Geraldo, 20/20, and even Oprah since the mid 1980s. Their message is always the same: your kids are in trouble. If they wear dark clothes, play D&D, or listen to alternative music, they're being seduced by a Satanic Cult.

Let me put this as plainly and as bluntly as I can: THERE ARE NO SATANIC CULTS SEDUCING OUR CHILDREN. None. Zip. Zero. Nada. Despite all the sensational headlines, not a single documented case of Satanic Cults exist. Not a single "Ritual Abuse" case has been prosecuted in the U.S. Every time this crap surfaces, it turns out that the perpetrator of the heinous crime was working alone or with a handful of people. I have no doubt there are some twisted folks out there who think they're doing the work of Satan (don't even get me started on that belief). It takes
all kinds, you know? What I can't stand, however, are these folks who make a living crying wolf. Or Satan, as the case may be.

If you want to take a look at some excellent research regarding the non-existent Satanic cults in the U.S., take a glance at the following books.

Satanic Panic: The Creation of a Contemporary Legend

Raising the Devil

Satanic cults in the U.S. Sheesh. The next thing you know, the media will be portraying this disturbed youth as a goth or something.

Peace

To the heavens be peace, to the sky and the earth,
to the waters be peace, to plants and all trees,
to the Gods be peace, to Brahman be peace,
to all persons be peace, again and again
--peace be also to me!

-Atharva Veda

The Fantabulous Feast

Appetizer--Do you button shirts top-to-bottom or bottom-to-top?
Bottom to top. Starting at the bottom keeps me from misbuttoning my shirt.

Soup--What is your favorite sandwich?
If we're talking your daily, run of the mill sandwhich, I'd have to go with peanut butter and honey.

Salad--What was a family project you helped work on as a child?
I helped remodel or build three different homes.

Main Course--When have you acted phony?
On a job interview, I suppose. Rather than acting phony, I'd like think I'm choosing to keep some of my quirky behaviors in reserve.

Dessert--Do you write letters or postcards? If so, to whom
Other than email, about the only letter writing I do comes in the form of "thank you" notes.

Potpourri

The 'rents were in town for the extended weekend.* I wish I could say it was a wonderful visit, but it wasn't. My father and I crossed sabers for the one billionth time. Dear old Dad reminded me, as he has from childhood, that I'll never measure up to his standard of success. I reminded him, as I have since my late teens, that I have no desire to follow in his footsteps if it means I'll be a miserable person, like he is, at 63. My mom cried a lot and STK showed a considerable amount of restraint in not entering the fray. Oh, and my dad let us know that the 60+ percent of us who think the President is doing a poor job are dead wrong. The President is doing a wonderful job and if we'd all just step into line, we'd finally be able to stop the flow of terrorists streaming out of Iraq. Yes, his primary source of information is Fox News. ::pounds head on desk:: It's hard to believe we share genetic material. Suffice it to say that the visit reinforced my belief that my father and I have nothing in common and are best served by maintaining a good deal of distance.

On a more positive note, I'm obsessed with the "Destroy Everything You Touch" video by Ladytron. Love the imagery, love the music, and find myself falling in love with the band. Which is odd, really. I usually don't go for the darkwave/electronica stuff. Anyway, it's already on the payday wish list. As is Depeche Modes' Playing the Angel. Their first video off the album, Precious, is also damn cool. More darkwave/electronica? We all have our guilty pleasures, I suppose.

As we're at midterm, school is kind of crazy. Mind you, the present level of crazy is nothing compared to the days of 230 students. I have a handful of papers and a half dozen speeches to grade by Friday. Three exams over the next couple days translates to 55 tests to grade by the end of next week. In addition to grading, I've been approached by a couple folks about doing some collaborative work. One person wants me to team teach a senior seminar and another wants to talk about writing a journal article. While I'm flattered, I'm not sure how I feel about working with someone. I've always done my own thing when it comes to classes and writing. That said, I'll probably agree to the former and not the latter. Being seen as a team player in the workplace probably isn't such a bad thing. We'll see about the writing gig. I'm such a perfectionist that it's possible I'd drive my potential collaborator crazy.

SMC had Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off for Fall Break.

Precarious Life

The reading group, which decided to tackle Judith Butler's Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence, met for the first time tonight. The book, quite possibly the most accessible of Butler's writings, offers some serious reflections on the post 9-11 response. In the Preface and first two essays, Butler criticizes the lack of earnest discussion regarding the appropriate response to attack. In the Preface she writes,

"Dissent and debate depend upon the inclusion of those who maintain critical views of state policy and civic culture remaining part of a larger public discussion of the value of policies and politics. To charge those who voice critical views with treason, terrorist-sympathizing, anti-Semitism, moral relativism, postmodernism, juvenile behavior, collaboration, anachronistic Leftism, is to seek to destroy the credibility not of the views that are held, but of the persons who hold them [...] It is precisely because one does not want to lose one's status as a viable speaking being that one does not say what one thinks."

You're preaching to the choir, Judith. More interesting than her critique of the lack of true debate following 9-11 are her thoughts regarding mourning and violence. According to Butler, our inability to process and utilize our collective mourning resulted in an illogical call for a violent, vengeful response. Taking a Levinasian approach to the constitution of the subject, Bulter argues that our subjectivity is tied directly to that of the Other, that the Self is called into existance by the hail of the Other. As this is the case, our own mourning provides an opportunity to understand the suffering of those outside our First World existance. In essence, our own pain, loss, and mourning acts as the hail of the Other. When we experience tremendous loss and grief, we understand, in a disconnected sense, the pain and suffering of other people. Responding with violence, then, requires a denial of the Other's humaness, for with a violent response comes additional human suffering. We inflict on innocent Others the pain and suffering we experience. To intentionally inflict pain and suffering on another, argues Levinas (and this is a very simplistic reading of Levinas), requires a refusal of the hail of the Other. It is our ethical responsibility to acknowledge the hail of the Other; refusing the hail of the Other means refusing their humanity. Only when we consider someone less than human, or a less important human, can we respond violently. That's the crux of Levinasian ethics: our own subjectivity occurs in the responsible acknowledgment of the Other's hail. To deny another's humanity is to deny our own.

So what does all that mean for Butler's critique of post 9-11 discourse and reactions? Butler suggests that an understanding of our own pain and grief, and the recognition that similar pain and grief likely contributed to the conditions leading up to 9-11, could have opened valuable lines of dialogue around the world. Foregoing the violent response, she attests, could have enabled us to explore and understand the causes and conditions of 9-11, to understand the human Other(s), rather than plunging into a series of conflicts that have resulted in tens of thousands of civilian casualties. Every civilian casualty provides pain and grief that could become fuel for the hatred of others, just like it did here in the U.S.

Is Butler right? I don't know. I'm not smart enough to figure all of this out. What I do know is that our current means of dealing with perpetrators of violence doesn't work. Rather than solving problems, we're stuck in a violent cycle. It can't hurt to look at alternatives, right?

The Simple Life

STK landed a job over the weekend. Before we left Colorado, she contacted a gallery here in SMT that needed some part-time help. While that position didn't pan out, the owner of the gallery put STK in touch with the owners of a frame shop. A few weeks after saying "hi" to the owners, she has a job. Most importantly, the hours are completely flexible; STK can, within reason, set her own schedule. That's important to us as we want to minimize daycare hours for The Little One. So, STK will work when I'm at home and I'll work when STK is at home. As we do have one 1/2 hour period when our schedules will overlap twice a week, we have someone lined up to watch TLO. We think he'll do okay.

Rather than celebrating STK's new venture, one of her family members offered criticism as she is wont to do. This family member believes the position is "beneath" STK. Instead, STK should be substitute teaching in the local school district. Uh, except that substituting would mean long daycare hours for TLO, that's a great idea! When STK and I talked about having a child, we made the decision to do whatever we could to be involved parents. For us that means minimizing daycare hours. Had we stayed in Colorado, STK would have kept her job in the local school district and I would have done adjunct teaching in the evenings. When I landed my position, one that entailed moving to an area with a much lower cost of living, we decided STK would adjust her work schedule. The critical family member (CFM) doesn't seem to understand our commitment to our child. Unless I miss my guess, CFM thinks STK is giving up her career for home and family.

We took a short hike Sunday afternoon and discussed CFM's criticism and our plan for the future. Unless a teaching position presents itself, STK and I will continue to balance work with TLO until he reaches school age. Will we have a ton of money? No. Will we have enough to get by and a bit to put aside? Yes. Will we be happy? Exceedingly so, I think. We love our life and the direction it's headed. We're both far less stressed than we've been in years. We get to enjoy each other's company, spend tons of time together, and actually participate in the upbringing of our child. Ultimately, we decided CFM just doesn't get it. She's more concerned with what people think of her than she is about her own personal happiness. Personally, I think she's a deeply unhappy person. I guess what bothers me the most about CFM's comments isn't her readiness to be critical of STK's decision, but the belief that she should be critical at all.

Wal-Mart Hates All People

Living in a small midwest town has its drawbacks. Like Wal-Mart. Despite intense local opposition, Wal-Mart forced itself into SMT a few years back. The result is low, low prices . . . at the expense of the employees and the taxpayers. Wal-Mart's presence also means local establishments carry a limited inventory. If Wal-Mart carries a product, you're less likely to see it in the local grocery, hardware, or specialty store. Oh, the local business owners could try and carry all the same products but would get killed in the pricing department. That means some products are difficult to come by if you refuse to shop in The Evil Empire of department stores. Take hair dye, for example. STK wants to dye her hair black but can't find any dye. When we ask at local establishments we hear, "We don't carry dye anymore. Try Wal-mart." Ugh.

I've been ranting about Wal-Mart for a couple years on this blog and I haven't set a foot in the establishment in going on five years. Even though the closest Target is over 50 miles away, I won't be stepping foot in The Evil Empire anytime soon. Yes, it's a major inconvenience to wait for our monthly out-of-town shopping trip, but I simply couldn't live with myself if I broke my vow to avoid Wal-Mart. Is Wal-Mart really that bad? How can low prices be bad for the consumer? Read away:

Wal-Mart Sucks

What's not to like about a company that underpays its workers, limit hours to avoid offering employees health benefits, discriminates against women, and bans media (namely books, magazines, and music) that includes "offensive material" or material critical of conservative Christian values? Some may be willing to overlook these insults in the name of lower prices, but I'm not. There isn't a better example of corporate greed at the expense of workers. I'll gladly deal with a little inconvenience and higher prices if it means giving the progeny of Sam Walton the metaphorical bird.*

*For the record, I have a difficult time giving any money to the Denver Nuggets' franchise. Stan Kroenke, the owner of the Nuggets, is married to one of the Wal-Mart heiresses.

Blogistential Crisis

For the past couple months, I've been thinking about my blog. While I feel okay with the "day in the life" style of posts that seem to dominate my little corner of the blogosphere, that's not why I started blogging. It was one of the reasons, but not the only reason. When I started blogging I envisioned Rhetorical Imprints as a place to practice my writing. Some of it would be fun writing, of course, but I really wanted to grapple with rhetorical studies, popular culture, politics, and spiritual practice. Most of that seems to have fallen by the wayside. These days, my blog reads more like Dear Diary than anything else. Bleh.

I'm hoping to return to a more diverse, and substantive, style of blogging. I'm also hoping to post more frequently. Best laid plans and all that . . .

Feast This!

Appetizer--Name 3 qualities that are important to you in friendship.
Compassion. Trust. Dependability.

Soup--If you could dream about anything tonight, what would the subject matter be?
I'd dream about being a Jedi Knight, of course. A Green Lantern dream would work, too.

Salad--Do you usually make an effort to personally thank people who do favors for you?
Yep. I keep a stack of "Thank You" cards in the desk (and use them). STK and I had all the people who helped unpack the moving track over for dessert a while back.

Main Course--If you had to go out of town for an extended period of time, who would you trust to take care of your home and belongings?
Funny you should ask. We're leaving town in a few weeks and we've asked a very dependable student to house sit.

Dessert--How do you react to practical jokes when they're played on you?
If it's funny, I laugh. If not, I scowl.

Out Geeked!

Frakin' Nicholas Cage. I've been out geeked by a movie star? Several months ago, I revealed my attempts to name TLO "Obi-wan". My attempts failed. STK simply wouldn't go for it. She also rejected any association with Kyle Rayner, the hippest of the Green Lanterns. Why am I upset with Nicholas Cage, a movie star who really has nothing to do with my life whatsoever? Somehow, he convinced his wife to name their child ::wait for it::

Kal-El

How frakin cool is that? He gave his kid Superman's Kryptonian name! That is way too cool for school. Nick, there are days when I hate your acting (that eyes half closed thing doesn't do it for me), but you pegged out the geek-o-meter.

Bastard.

Smorgasbord

The in-laws arrived today and they were bearings gifts. As long as they continue to bribe me with two pounds of Kaladi Coffee every time they enter our domicile, they can visit as often as they'd like. My cup runneth over with an El Salvador roast. Delicious. I'm a pushover for superior coffee. Sue me. STK and TLO will spend the next several days entertaining the 'rents. I have to work, of course. Still, STK and I will finally be able to workout together in the afternoons. In the pre-TLO years, we routinely visited the rec center together. When TLO entered the picture, we started working out at different times. Oh, we left him alone a couple of times but felt horribly guilty doing so. Kidding! Kidding!

School continues to go well. The first round of grading begins tomorrow. I'll have to grade 55 papers over the course of the next couple weeks ::stifles laughter:: Fifty-five papers sure beats the hell out of 230. Bring it on!

In other academic news, I'm reading The Dao of Rhetoric, a book that offers an Eastern perspective on the art of rhetoric. Even though I love the source material and respect the author for his new approach to rhetorical studies, I'm finding the book a bit simplistic. Combs, the author, scratches the surface regarding some intriguing ideas but just doesn't take his analysis far enough. I'm all about clarity and economy, but this guy takes these concepts to a new level. At a third of the way through, I'm hoping he digs deeper further along in the text. We shall see. Once I finish Dao, Nation of Rebels: Why Counterculture Became Consumer Culture is next in the cue.

I've also been invited to participate in an academic reading group. SMC is a liberal arts college. That means we, the faculty, don't have the opportunity to interact with graduate students. That's not entirely a negative thing--maybe I'll dissert on that at a later date. That said, several of us from Philosophy, Religious Studies, and Communication Studies decided to get together and do some reading/discussing on our own. Our first book is Butler's Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence. We're meeting once a month so the actual reading shouldn't be the frenzied, I-have-too-many-chapters-and-not-enough-time style of reading we all mastered in graduate school.

I understand Bush nominated a crony for the Supreme Court seat vacated my Sandra Day O'conor. Honestly, I can't even get myself excited about reading up on the pick. If I spend time reading up on her I'm sure I'll work myself into a frenzy over something over which I have absolutely have no power. I'll read up on her, discover she represents everything I despise about Bush and his administration, and go to bed wondering if there are any academic openings in Canada. The only solution is to avoid the political brouhaha for the next few weeks. I'll have to settle for reading Harriet Mier's blog.

Infinity of Space

Empty and calm and devoid of self
Is the nature of all things.
No individual being
In reality exists.

There is no end or beginning,
Nor any middle course.
All is an illusion,
As in a vision or a dream.

All beings in the world
Are beyond the realm of words.
Their ultimate nature, pure and true,
Is like the infinity of space.

-Prajnaparamita

From "The Pocket Buddha Reader," edited by Anne Bancroft, 2001.

Holy Frak: Feast 64

The Feast, Friday, September 30

Appetizer--When was the last time you visited a hospital?
June 19, two days after TLO joined the world. I've been to a clinic a couple times since, but that's not really a hospital.

Soup--On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being highest, how ambitious are you?
6.

Salad--Make a sentence using the letters of a body part. (Example: (mouth) My other ukelele tings healthily.)
Every lark breakfasts on worms.

Main Course--If you were to start a club, what would the subject matter be, and what would you name it?
I'd probably start a local Star Wars club. There just aren't enough Star Wars geeks around here (that I know of). The name of the club would be SWAG (Star Wars: Unabashedly Geeky).

Dessert--What color is the carpet/flooring in your home?
Hardwood and linoleum. We have numerous bamboo rugs placed throughout the place, too.

Unintended Consequences

It seems my Millemium Salmon answer to Friday's Feast tickled a few fancies. To be perfectly honest, that was a toss away answer. When I read the question, I had absolutely no idea how to respond. A half second later Millenium Salmon popped into my head, through my fingers, and onto the Internets. The positive response has been unanimous. K deemed the post "the geekiest thing I have ever heard from you. :)" In case you've forgotten, K keeps a Starfleet uniform in her closet and a copy of Neil Gaiman's latest comicbook/book/blogpost on her nightstand. High geek praise, indeed. Michael, on the other hand, gave it the " Oh my gosh, that's funny!" I once saw a laughing Mike squirt milk out of his nose. Ah, the joys of the RHS band lounge. While I'm glad he enjoyed the post, I hope dairy products were not within reach. T honored my post with mad props on her own blog. This is a blogger who posts about chickens in boxes, in-breeding jokes, and her Sith Lord children. Considering one of her recents posts is titled "All your zucchini are belong to us," I'm honored to have made the cut.

Although the name started as a joke, I now realize that any water going craft that might one day be piloted by me, Han Sole, and my trusty partner, Channelcatfish, must be named Millenium Salmon. Oddly enough, there's been some talk around the house about owning a canoe one day. Hmmmm . . .

My Space

The office rennovation project continues. I'm not one of those people who can work in a sterile office space. Several of my colleagues, both here at SMC and various other institutions, seem to take that stark, minimalist approach to office decorating. You can't find a picture of a friend, family member or pet, let alone a pen, pencil, or book. In fact, it's difficult to tell anyone even sits at the desk on a regular basis. That kind of environment just doesn't work for me. Every office space I've occupied, even if it was only a desk, announced "D Lives Here!"

My present office is no exception . . . except that I now have an entire office to myself. Green Lantern (the JLA Animated John Stewart), Mace Windu, Jabba's Palace Luke Skywalker, Shaak-Ti, Luminara, Superman, Godzilla, and Devil Ducky inhabit various regions of my desk. Ymir and diecast versions of the Justice League animated grace my bookshelf. The wall next to my desk displays an assortment of band posters, popular culture postcards (Blondie, Sid Vicious, Star Trek), and interesting advertisements. With the decorating essentially finished, I turned to music.

Since I spend a great deal of time in my office, I decided to rip a few CDs to the ol' HD. This is a new practice for me--I usually don't play music through my computer. However, since I really don't have any other media system in my office, the computer has to suffice. I loaded the following CDs earlier today.

Liz Phair--Exile In Guysville
Liz Phair--whitechocolatespaceegg
The Clash--London Calling
The Ramones--Ramones Mania
The Muffs--Really Really Happy
Metric--Old World Underground, Where Are You Now?
Joy Division--Unknown Pleasures
Ray Charles--The Very Best of Ray Charles
Miles Davis--Kind of Blue
The Sex Pistols--Englands Burning Ha Ha Ha
Blondie--The Best of Blondie
Siouxsie Sioux and the Bashees--The Best of

It's an eclectic mix, but it should keep me occupied when I tire of Internets radio.

The Feast Just Keeps on Coming!

Friday's Feast, September 23, 2005

Appetizer--Name something someone has done lately that impressed you.
Several students gave outstanding speeches.

Soup--Do you have any relaxing rituals? If so, what are they?
Reading a science fiction/fantasy novel usually winds me down late at night. A good run can also be relaxing . . . about a half hour after it's finished.

Salad--If you could spend the winter season somewhere other than your current location, where would you choose to stay?
I think I'd pick LA. The weather is more temperate and I'd be able to take in some great shows/bands.

Main Course--When was the last time you had dinner out, and what was the name of the restaurant?
Mabe's Pizza.

Dessert--If you had a boat, what would you name it?
The Millenium Salmon.

Making Something Out of Nothing

It seems that Gene over at Something out of nothing is putting away the quill and ink and a small gap opens in my little corner of the Internets.

Several years ago, when my life and mind were in a shambles, Gene helped me sort out some extremely messed up thinking. He didn't always agree with my choices and actions, but he always listened and he always had an appropriate question to ask or anecdote to share. I can't even begin to estimate how many late night cigarettes we smoked during our long distance conversations. Smokes aside, our conversations usually resulted in more questions than answers . . . and that was a good thing. I can't speak for Gene, but I was in a place where I really didn't know what I wanted. I thought I knew, but I didn't. As I had done so many times in the past, I'd deluded myself into idealizing a situation to the point where I couldn't distinguish the true from the false. Our conversations, and the questions those conversations raised, were an important part of a process that eventually brought some clarity to my thoughts.

During the year it took to regain some mental perspective, an extremely painful year for both myself and Gene, I visited Something out of nothing several times a day. At the time, Gene updated the site almost every day, usually in the wee hours of the morning. While he'll likely dismiss the meaningfulness of his blogging, his posts meant something to me. Sometimes he mentioned our conversations, adding his thoughts to our suspended dialogue, and sometimes he didn't. Some days he'd turn a self-reflexive lens on his past experiences and actions; other days he'd recount a trip to the store. Despite the topic, I always enjoyed reading his work (and admired his writing ability, something I'll never match). On more than one occasion his posts forced me to take a deep breath, lean back in my desk chair, and reflect on my own life.

I'm not one to beg people to continue writing when they've lost the passion for the work. From Gene's final post, it's obvious the time has come for Something out of nothing to conclude. The site served its purpose, I suppose, for both Gene and this faithful reader.

Thanks, Gene. Although you probably never intended it when you started writing your blog, you really did make something out of nothing.

Sunday's Feast

Friday's Feast, September 15, 2005

Appetizer--Do your closer friends tend to be male or female? Why do you think that is?
Definitely women. While I have a couple male friends, I have numerous female friends. Truthfully, I'm more comfortable around women. With men I think there's often a pissing contest to see who's more cool, knowledgeable about masculine things, and the like.* Whatever.

Soup--If you could wake up tomorrow with a new talent, what would it be?
How about the ability to dance ballet? I've always admired the skill and grace of ballet dancers.

Salad--Name a household cleaning item that you would recommend to others.
A Starbucks Barista grinder. If you're a coffee geek, like me, this is an affordable grinder that gets the job done. It reportedly produces grinds the equivalent of some of the much more expensive burr grinders.

Main Course--What do you strive for in life?
Serenity.

Dessert--On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being highest, how funny do you consider yourself?
Well, I think I'm hilarious. I'm a 10! This question could be better answered by STK or some of my friends.

I'm Just Wild About Meetings!

One of the things I didn't anticipate in my shift from adjunct-work-for-next-to- nothing-instructor to assistant-work-for-slightly-more-realistic-wage- professor is the number of meetings I have to attend each week. Presently, I have at least two, sometimes three, meetings a week. After the New-Kid-On-Block moniker wears off, I'm sure I'll be asked to serve on any number of college committees. Even with all the meetings, my present job sure beats the heck out of working a 9-5. I might be on a campus for eight hours a day, but much of that time is spent reading, thinking, teaching, and advising students. I count myself lucky that the days of sitting behind a desk doing the same thing over, and over, and over are long behind me.

One of the cool perks of my new job concerns travel funds. In the past, whenever I attended an academic conference my bank account took a pounding. This year, since I'm presenting a paper at a national conference, the school picks up the entire tab. As such, STK and TLO are attending the conference with me. While I'm at the actual conference, they'll tag along or do their own thing. The only real expenses for the trip are STK's airfare, which we snagged for $210, and food. Come mid-November, I'll be communing with Samuel Adams at his resting place. I'm also trying to swing a day trip to Concord (Walden Pond, in particular--I worship at the feet of Emerson and Thoreau). We'll see if we can work that in during our four day stay. We'll probably try to do the Freedom Trail thing, too. I wrote my MA thesis on Samuel Adams and the Boston Committees of Correspondence and can't wait to see the locales I envisioned in my mind's eye. I probably know more about the history of Boston than most, at least the decade or so leading up to the American Revolution, but have never visited the city. Go figure.

The Return of Friday's Feast!

Friday's Feast, 09/09/05

Appetizer--Who is the easiest person for you to talk to?
STK, without question. I can talk to her about absolutely anything.

Soup--If you could live in any ancient city during the height of the quality of its society and culture, which one would you choose?
Athens, most likely. I'd love to see ancient rhetoric in action.

Salad--What is the most exciting event you've ever witnessed?
The Denver Nuggets home win vs the Minnesota Timberwolves during the 2004 NBA playoffs. The atmposphere at the Pepsi Center was totally insane.

Main Course--If you were a celebrity, what would you do for a publicity stunt?
Proselytize about Scientology. No, wait. That's been done. I'd probably fake my death and disappear. I don't think I could stand all that attention.

Dessert--What do you consider the ideal age to have a first child?
Uh, 37?

The Precious Self

The whole world we travel with our thoughts,
Finding nowhere anyone as precious as one's own self.
Since each and every person is so precious to themselves
Let the self-respecting harm no other being.

-Samyutta Nikaya

RIP, Little Buddy

While several days have gone by since he left the desert isle for good, I feel compelled to comment on the passing of Bob Denver or, as I'll always remember him, Gilligan. Gilligan's Island is one of those shows that people either love or hate. I've never encountered a single person who said, "Eh, it was okay." Let's face it, the show wasn't all that deep. The narrative sequencing is repetitive, the characters one dimensional, and the general content is kind of like cotton candy--it looks and tastes great but there isn't a whole lot of substance.

And I loved every episode. Gilligan provided a nickname for my dog and child (I frequently refer to both as "little buddy"), introduced me to the wonders of banana and coconut cream pie, and never failed to elicit a smile from my face. I really can't put my finger on why I found Gilligan such a likeable fellow or why I still count the television show as one of my all-time favorites (right up there with The Dick Van Dyke Show and Buffy the Vampire Slayer). He was a bumbling fool, and an absolute imbecile, especially when the castaways were about to be rescued. That said, Gilligan was a genuine nice guy. He always helped the others out and rarely, if ever, put his own interests before anyone else.

My old authentic US Navy cap, provided by J (J could do a damned good imitation of Gilligan howling, "Skipper"), is off to the original little buddy. Thanks for everything, Willy.

Complete

There are too many things in this world to be learned, and life is too short to learn everything, so we should complete that which we have begun rather than dabbling in many things.

-Geshe Ngawang Dhargyey, "Advice From a Spiritual Friend"

Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Social Issues.

During the month of January, SMC (Small Midwest College for those who aren't up to speed) has J-Term. J-Term provides students the opportunity to take one class, and one class only, and focus all their attention on the subject matter. For example, it wouldn't be unusual for a professor to schedule 4-5 hours a day, MTWRF, and a discussion session in the evening. In essence, the students immerse themselves in the topic of study. J-Term classes are also an opportunity for faculy members to offer classes a little out of the ordinary. Some professors put together study abroad trips like a trip to the Canary Islands to study multicultural nonverbal communication or a journey to Japan to study/live the life of a Buddhist. I think I also read a course description for a trip to study the spiritual places of Great Britain. Other professors choose to stay close to home and offer such classes as The Politics of Rock and Roll (Political Science department), Environmental Philosophy, or Midwest Winter Ecology (Biology).

Friday, the department Head informed me that I need to design/suggest a course for the J-Term. After a bit of thought, I'm thinking of offering a class on science fiction and fantasy films and television. Rather than a survey course that simply teaches the history of science fiction and fantasy, I want to focus on the way science fiction and fantasy texts have addressed important social issues. I've become increasingly interested in this topic over the summer.

I've always been interested in the way popular culture artifacts invite us to enter a dialogue about social problematics. An episode of Everwood might encourage us to discuss teenage sexuality, a storyline on Alias might suggest we rethink The Patriot Act, and 30 Days could inspire a dialogue regarding poverty and the minimum wage. This summer has produced a variety of similar examples within the genre of science fiction and fantasy. The latest Harry Potter book, for instance, enters the public debate regarding terrorism, George Lucas allegedly critiques the Bush administration in Revenge of the Sith, and the remake of War of the Worlds revisits the images of 9-11. And so, I thought I'd offer a J-Term course that examines how we use science fiction/fantasy films and television as a way to make sense of the world around us (or challenge the sense we've made, maybe?). Some examples of film/television and their corresponding topics might include:

Forbidden Planet/The Day the Earth Stood Still/Planet of the Apes--WMDs

The Things from Another Planet/Invasion of the Body Snatchers/War of the Worlds/E.T./Edward Scissorhands--Fear of the other/Xenophobia

Lord of the Rings/Star Wars--Issues of Good vs Evil.

Blade Runner/The Terminator/Frankenstein--Technology out of control.

Logan's Run/A Clockwork Orange/1984/Minority Report--social engineering and/or privacy issues.

Existenz/The Matrix--Epistemological issues: how do we know what we know?

Buffy/Smallville--any number of teen issues.

Based on my brainstorming, I'm pretty sure I can develop an excellent class. Texts for the class would include books that offer academic critiques of film/television such as From Alien to The Matrix : Reading Science Fiction Film, and Liquid Metal: The Science Fiction Film Reader. I'd also put together a series of eReserve readings consisting of journal articles and pieces from the popular media (like When Harry Met Osama).

Any thoughts? Any additional films/television shows I could add? How about topics? I think this could be a pretty engaging class.

Uplifting Moment

I had one of those amusing teaching moments today. As part of the first day of class, I always ask students to introduce themselves, talk about their future aspirations, and offer one unique thing about themselves (something that makes them different from everyone else in the class). It's a fun little exercise that helps me learn a little about my students AND helps me do some name recognition. For instance, I'll make a mental note that Jennifer is part of a water skiing performance team (a fictional example). Anyway, this is a real exchange that happened in class earlier today. The "S" signfies a student and the "M" is me.

S: My name is blah, blah, blah. You know, I'm not really sure exactly what I want to do with my life. I do know that I want to do something that enhances humanity in one way or another. A unique things about me is that I spent the summer interning with Pfizer, the pharmaceutical company. You know, they make Viagra.

M: Well, there you go. Enhancing humanity in one way or another.

The class erupted into laugher--a couple students were obviously shocked that their professor would make such a joke and hid their faces in embarassment. Seriously, how could you not make that joke? That was a curveball, minus the break, floating out over the plate. You have to give it rip, you know what I mean?

Eh?

Anyone know how to pronounce the name "Gereon"? It's a German name and I'm absolutely clueless.

I've enabled anonymous posting once again. We'll see if the spammers stay away.

UPDATE. Problem solved. I ran into the person with the name and simply asked him how to pronounce his name. It's pronounced Garion. Hard G.

Welcome Back My Friends to the Show that Never Ends

I'll return to the moving tale in the few days. I promise. Recent events, however, call for some kind of post. Yesterday, I officially started my gig as Assistant Professor. Yes, Thursday consisted of eight hours of new faculty orientation: introductions, mountains of paperwork, and a half dozen "This is Small Midwest College" presentations filled the day. In the evening, new faculty attended a dedication service at which we were formally introduced to the college. Most of the introductions, presented by the dean of the college, went something like this:

"Barbara Bidwell, a new Assistant Professor in the English Department, joins us from the University of Montana where she just finished her Ph.D. Her dissertation, Female Archetypes in the Contemporary Science Fiction Novel, investigates the way in which the written performance of the feminine offers a transformative vision of gender. Barbara will be teaching Introduction to English Literature, Composition, and Contemporary Science Fiction. Word has it that Barbara also has a passing interest in wildflower gardening and looks forward to cultivating local varieties in her back yard. She is joined by her partner, Jennifer, and their seven year old daughter, Emma."

Most of the introductions remained suitably formal. From all the feedback I received today (a six hour full college faculty meeting), my introduction stood out from the others. The Dean said something close to the following.

"Derek, our new Assistant Professor of Communication Studies, joins us from the University of Metropolis where he recently completed his Ph.D. His dissertation project, The Subcultural Self after Postmodernity, explores how individual and collective subjectivities are constituted, negotiated, and performed, both discursively and non-discursively, in the realm of everyday human interaction.

::Dean breaks from notes and addresses me directly:: I'm not responsible for this next part, Derek. Kim said it's totally appropriate and that you wouldn't mind ::turns back to audience::*

A self-avowed geek, Derek is an avid fan of Star Wars, The Green Lantern, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Smallville, and riot grrl punk. As a new member of our faculty he'll be teaching Public Address, Media and Society, and the Rhetoric of Everyday Life. His wife, STK, and their 9-week-old son, TLO, have also joined our community. Welcome to you all."

Apparently, Kim tracked down a description of myself that I posted as part of a test project for a portfolio community. I'd forgotten I participated in the experimental tech venture several years back. Regardless, I loved the introduction and it aroused the curiosity of almost everyone in attendance. My introduction, coupled with my alternative appearance, has made me the talk of SMC. Everyone seems to go out of their way to meet me. I'm continually amazed by the number of people who approach and say, "I've heard so much about you. I had to come introduce myself." Keep in mind that I spent a grand total of three days in this community before moving here. During that time, I probably met about a dozen people around campus. Word travels fast in SMC. Faculty, librarians, human resources folks, students . . . it doesn't matter, they all want to meet the new guy. Honestly, this is probably about as close to being a rock and roll star as I'll ever get. Three weeks into the semester, my novelty will wear off and I'll be just another prof. Until that time, I think I'll bask in the spotlight for couple weeks.

*Kim is my department Chair.

Episode IV: A New Home

With a new driver behind the wheel of the truck--me--we left Des Moines on Monday AM and started on the last leg of our journey. It's amazing how much better a truck will run when all the parts are in working order. That's not to say the drive went without incident. About 1.5 hours from our final destination, we stopped to fill up the truck one final time. As I pulled into the filling station, the "Change Oil" indicator lit up. After much cursing ("Not again! Frackin truck!"), a conference with our travelling mechanic (my father), and a quick dip of the dip stick (oil in the pan), we opted to press on. We'd let Penske deal with any problems at a later date.

About 2:30 P.M., we arrived at our new home. New problem: as J was forced to leave for his flight, I now had few options regarding unloading heavy items. A quick call to let my Department Chair know that we arrived safely solved the problem: her husband would drop by to help after he got off work.

And so we started the unloading process. A half hour into the process, one of my new colleagues stopped by to lend a hand. 15 minutes after that, another colleague offered her assistance. A half hour later, the Chair's husband arrived followed soon by the chair herself. With the help of most of my new colleagues, the other two were out of town, we had almost everything unloaded by 6:30 PM. If you want to make a good impression on me, bail me out of a difficult situation. We went from having no help to more than enough help. My faith in the universe was restored.

Two days later, the Penske company redeemed itself to some degree. When I returned the truck, they offered a 15% refund for our troubles, a refund I immediately refused. I hopped on the phone with the district manager, we discussed the issue for almost a half hour, and he finally agreed to a 30 percent ($300) refund. I drove home pleased with my negotiating abilities.

STK Killer

Heard from STK a few moments ago:

"Everytime I see an article about the BTK Killer I think of STK. Thanks for that nickname. Thanks a lot."

My pleasure! Although, I should note that J originally tagged you with the nickname. I will admit to popularizing it, however.

Episode III: Revenge of Penske

With a few hours of sleep behind us, we faced Saturday morning with a grim determination. Still stinging from the lack of space, we found our spirits dampened but not extinguished. Worse things could happen, right? We crammed a few remaining items in the nooks and crannies of the truck,

hooked up the civic to a tow dolly,

hooked up with our trusty companion/truck driver J,

and said goodbye to Aurora, CO.

Our farewells to the Denver Metro area were bittersweet. STK and I loved living in Colorado. We liked our condo, even though it was getting a bit small for the family, loved our friends, enjoyed the proximity of our families, and even loved our jobs. With a great deal of sadness, mixed with the excitement of new jobs, new friends, and a new home, we watched the mountains fade in our rear view mirror.

The beginning of the trip went without incident. We cruised across NE Colorado, stopping only for gas and the ocassional restroom break. Midway across Nebraska, our fortunes changed. We stopped in Kearney, NE for dinner and a brief rendezvous with STK's sister, brother-in-law, and niece. They moved to Kearney about a year ago and a dinner stop/visit made perfect sense. Saying yet another round of goodbyes, we pointed the truck toward our final destination for the day: Lincoln, NE.

As we started down the ramp to I-80, STK and I heard the rental behemoth sputtering and backfiring something fierce. J tried to limp the truck up to interstate speed but the truck failed to cooperate. We parked our respective vehicles and convened on the side of I-80. "I think we got some bad gas," mused J. "I'd bet almost anything that there's some condensation in the tank. Let's limp up to the next exit and get some dry gas engine treatment. That stuff will usually take care of water."

And limp along I-80 we did. Achieving a maximum speed of 45 mph, and usually cruising at speeds closer to 35, we chugged along to the next exit. With a couple cans of Heet in the truck's tank, we attempted the interstate once again. This time, the truck sputtered and backfired far less and managed to get up to a cruising speed of 65 mph. J called on the cell phone and reported that while the truck still wasn't running perfectly, it was performing much better. We all breathed a sigh of relief and completed the journey to Lincoln.

J got a big kick out of the fact that I picked a motel right next to an adult retail store. In fact, J accused me of picking the motel because of the sex shop. I'll never tell.



20 minutes after our arrival, I returned to the parking lot for more luggage only to see J emerge from Dr. John's adult emporium carrying a whip. "Check it out!" he exclaimed. "A whip from a sex shop in Lincoln, NE. I even had to show the people how to use the damn thing! Hahahahahaha!" There's never a dull moment when J is around.

We started the Sunday portion of our journey believing truck problems were behind us. Crossing the NE/IA border, we learned otherwise. The truck chugged up the bluffs of the Missouri river, slowing to speeds of 20 mph at the crest of a hill. Pulling off at an undeveloped rest area (no facilities, only parking), we realized our problems were probably greater than condensation. I hopped on the cell phone and called the Penske roadside assistance number. To their credit, they got right on the problem and arranged for help. The problem: we were in the middle of nowhere. It would take a mechanic at least an hour to reach us. I walked to the Element, talked quietly with STK, rested my head on door jam, and cried for a moment. I was beyond frustrated with the entire move and questioned whether we were doing the right thing. Realizing that nothing could be done but to finish the journey, I pulled myself together and started looking at alternatives.

With the temperature rising into the 90s, STK and my mother gathered our infant son and five pets and headed for the comfortable surroundings of my aunt's home in Des Moines. J, my father, and I settled in to wait for the mechanic. And we waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, a fellow from Doug's Diesel arrived and tried to replace the fuel filter. Only one problem--he had the wrong fuel filter. He informed us that procuring the correct part meant a trip to the automotive supply store a half hour away. So, the three of us settled in for another hour long wait. We waited, and waited, and waited. An hour and a half later, the guy returned with the correct fuel filter, replaced the part, and asked us to drive up to the next exit. We did. Nothing had changed. The truck still wasn't running properly.

Any other repairs would require a service shop. So we turned the truck around and drove west on I-80 toward Doug's Diesel. This leg of the journey, however, the truck moved at the ridiculous speed of 20 mph. On an interstate. Through a construction zone that curtailed traffic to one lane in either direction. You can imagine the frustration of the drivers who lined up behind our creeping truck. Oddly enough, about ten minutes into the 10 mile journey the truck suddenly experienced a surge of power and managed to approach 55 mph. When we arrived at Doug's Diesel, J jumped from the cab of the truck and shouted, "I've experienced the power of Jesus! I was holding up traffic and I could just hear all those people praying for me: 'Jesus Christ, get that god-damned truck moving!' Would you believe it worked! Hallelujah!"

Our stay at Doug's Diesel lasted a total of four hours. A mechanic who volunteered to give up his day off to work on our truck (keep in mind that this was a Sunday) quickly diagnosed the problem as a faulty fuel pump and dispatched someone on yet another parts run. We waited. And waited. And waited. Here's me waiting:

As one might imagine, my patience at this point in the journey had reached nil. J, and this is exactly why he's the amazing friend that he is, calmly reminded me that despite the problems with the move, everyone was safe. "Keep thinking about that new baby of yours," he suggested. "That's what really matters. Everything else just is."

Finally, about 7.5 hours after our breakdown, the fuel filter was replaced and we were back on the road. The truck ran perfectly and we rolled into Des Moines two hours later. Unfortunately, we had to part company with J almost immediately. His return flight to Denver was leaving the following morning and he wouldn't be able to complete the journey with us. We made arrangements for a relative of his to get him to the airport, thanked him profusely for all his help, and parted company.

We crashed into bed not daring to tempt the fates by hoping for an uneventful final leg of the journey.