The Answer

I don't mention my obsession with the Denver Nuggets very often on this weblog, but suffice it to say that my love of the Nuggets surpasses that of the Chicago Cubs. Strange, but true.* Having suffered through almost 20 years of mediocrity, the Nuggets have finally started to turn things around. The most recent move by the Nuggets' front office is definitely exciting.

Will Iverson catapult the Nuggets to the next level? Are there enough shots for both Melo and AI? Will the move turn into a disaster? Who knows. What I do know is that for the first time in a very, very, very long time, the front office made a big move. It might work, it might not. This could be "the move" or it could be a train wreck. I really don't care. I'll be here to listen to it all.** For the first time in years, it's truly an exciting time to be a fan.

*The '94 strike soured me on baseball and I've never really followed the sport in the same way. I'm a box score fan, really. I can't tell you the last time I actually watched a game.

**Given our current locale, I don't get to see many televised games. Our digital cable company can't seem to come to any kind of arrangement with the NBA so I can't purchase access to the games either. If we had that option available, I'd shell out the $200 a year. Count on it. Thankfully, I am able to pay for radio access via the internets to all the games for $20 a year. I spend many a night grading papers or putting together lesson plans while listening to the Nuggets.

Waging War on Christmas

A few days ago, Michael posted an amusing email regarding holiday greetings. Yes, the piece made me chuckle. Still, there's a serious matter at the heart of the jocularity: the war on Christmas! You know the war, the one where anyone who asks for a bit of multiplicity and inclusiveness (translation: anyone who suggests there are holiday celebrations other than Christmas that are just as deserving of public attention or, worse yet, anyone who doesn't observe a holiday this time of year) around the holidays is attempting to wipe out Christian traditions. How dare you ask for a Menorah in an airport! What do you mean you want us to take down the nativity at City Hall? Why do you hate America? Yeesh.

In past years, I've been on the front lines of the war on Christmas. I didn't protest the display of the nativity on public grounds (although I should state emphatically that religious iconography does not have any place on any public grounds), but I did let people know that not everyone in this country is Christian. When someone belted out a cheery "Merry Christmas," I replied with a scroogerific "I'm not Christian." That stopped 'em cold.

This year, seeing that I'm at a school of the Church, I've been firing less confrontational salvos. Still committed to doing my part in the War on Christmas, I accept the hearty "Merry Christmas" and offer an enthusiastic "Happy Yule!" or "Merry Solstice" in reply. As Yule has become synonymous with Christmas in many circles, most people probably don't realize the subversive nature of my response. If they took a few minutes to sit down and talk to me about holiday plans, they'd learn that I really do celebrate Yule.

Tonight (December 21), at 6:22 Central Standard Time, we celebrate the Winter Solstice. We hail the return of the sun, the balance of dark & light, and nature's magickal progression through the seasons. We celebrate the first day of Winter, the return of hope, and the promise of vernal rebirth. Reflect on the past year, acknowledge the present, and look toward the future. Give thanks for lessons learned and those yet to be learned. Give what you can share to others, whatever that might be.

So mote it be.

The Final Countdown

I finished grading papers/exams/whatnot about 10:30 this morning. With the exception of getting together with one of my colleagues to finalize grades--we team taught a course this semester and simply need to total points from our respective halves--I'm essentially finished with the Fall 2006 semester. I always get a little reflexive about the last 15 weeks of a semester and I think that's probably a good thing. I evaluate myself in terms of teaching, course policies, textbooks, student interactions, etc. This semester has been kind of a mixed bag. I absolutely loved one of my courses, as did the attending students. I heard from no less than three students that it was the best. course. ever taught by the best. professor. ever. Nothing makes me feel better than hearing students refer to me as the best professor they've encountered. A second course produced the exact opposite reaction from both myself and, I suspect, my students. Can you say bored, bored, bored? My lectures were uninspired, the textbook about as dry as one can get; the entire experience felt exceedingly mediocre. So, total revamp for next year. Thankfully, I probably won't be teaching the course beyond next year. It's not in my traditional subject area and I'm not all that excited about it. You think that's part of the reason the class was so blah? You bet it was. My third course had great moments and down moments, but was a good experience overall. There are a few adjustments to be made, of course, but that's par for the course.

The biggest frustration this semester related directly to high maintenance students. I'm not sure if it was something in the air or water, but I've never had students who needed more guidance and encouragement. Students emailed me about proper citation formats (the style manual is a required text for the course), manuscript reviews (proofreading, essentially), topic choice, organization, and the list goes on, and on, and on. I've never spent more time dealing with goofy questions that, upon a few moments reflection, could be answered without emailing a professor. For whatever reason, students don't hesitate to send an email at 1 AM with a question regarding where to place a comma in a reference. I'm not kidding. AND, they expect an email by 7 AM or earlier. I won't even get into the trouble student who emerged at the end of the semester. Beyond ridiculous. But I kept my cool and stuck to my guns. There are many lessons to be learned in college and not all relate to lecture or a textbook.

I produced very little in the way of personal scholarship during the Fall 2006 semester; that has to change. Oh, I managed to look up an article here and there, but I generated a scant 4-5 pages in terms of actual writing. That's pathetic. I've already committed to having two pieces finished by the end of the Spring 2007 semester. That's approximately 50 pages of material for those keeping score. Discipline. As STK reminds me, it's all about the discipline. Who wants to write when one can blog, read blogs, and waste tons of time on the Internets?

Telecommuned

With the recent cell phone purchase and yesterday's installation of broadband phone, I've officially joined the digital age. And I have voice mail again! I feel like I'm back in the civilized world.

It's Saturday and I really have no idea why I'm up this early.

Bring on the Tubes!

No, this isn't a post about a cheesy, but oh so enjoyable, pop band from the 1980s. Anyone remember "She's a Beauty?" Rather than silly pop music, I'm talking about the the reality that TLO needs tubes in his ears.

Since September, TLO has struggled with any number of illnesses: colds, the stomach flu, and ear infections. In fact, we've been dealing with some kind of malady about every two weeks. As one might imagine, that makes for a cranky infant and cranky parents. We're really tired of losing sleep, administering meds, meetings with doctors (at least a half dozen visits), and racing to the emergency room (twice since October--asthma and a 105 degree temp). The most frustrating of the illnesses has been the Ear Infection That Will Not Die. Several rounds of antibiotics (we're at 5 or 6) and TLO's ears are still inflamed. The ears/nose/throat specialist, a doctor we both liked very much, took one look at his ears and said, "Let's get that appointment set up." TLO has a nasty little cold at the moment and we need to wait until that clears up before scheduling the surgery. The anesthesia is administered via gas and any kind of chest congestion is a big NO. Surgery could come as early as next week or as late as the first couple weeks of January. Either way, we'll soon be one step closer to the bionic kid.

Feastolicious

Friday's Feast, December 08, 2006

Appetizer--Which language would you like to learn and why?
Spanish. I've wanted to learn the language for years and never got around to it. I think Spanish is the one language I might actually use. Would you believe I made it all the way to my Ph.D. without ever taking a foreign language? How the heck did that happen?

Soup--What's the funniest thing you've heard or read so far this week?
A couple nights back, J suggested the following name for a communication studies themed bakery: ethos, bakos (pronounced "bake-ohs"), and logos. Freakin hysterical. I've been laughing about it for days.

Salad--Which movie was so bad you couldn't watch the whole thing?
I don't think I've ever stopped watching a movie no matter how bad. Are there times when I wanted to quit watching? Sure. I'm a glutton for punishment. One movie I believe is atrocious beyond measure is Some Kind of Wonderful. What a frelling horrible film. One of my good friends in college loved the film and insisted I watch it. I sat through the whole thing. 95 minutes of my life. Gone. Thank goodness we had tons of beer.

Main Course--If there were a holiday in your honor that didn't use your actual name, what would the day be called?
What a weird question. How about Geek Cool day. This is the day when everyone celebrates their inner geek, guilty pleasures, and what not.

Dessert--Name one movie which is coming out soon that you would like to see.
I'd love to see The Fountain (it's already out), but I suspect it won't make it to our remote corner of the Midwest.

Don't Melt that Pot!

I'm saddened by the following from Cornell News.

About 27 percent of respondents said that all Muslim Americans should be required to register their location with the federal government, and 26 percent said they think that mosques should be closely monitored by U.S. law enforcement agencies. Twenty-nine percent agreed that undercover law enforcement agents should infiltrate Muslim civic and volunteer organizations, in order to keep tabs on their activities and fund raising. About 22 percent said the federal government should profile citizens as potential threats based on the fact that they are Muslim or have Middle Eastern heritage. In all, about 44 percent said they believe that some curtailment of civil liberties is necessary for Muslim Americans.

Conversely, 48 percent of respondents nationally said they do not believe that civil liberties for Muslim Americans should be restricted.

Wow. Just wow. The actions of a handful of extremists results in the indictment of an entire religious belief system. This is the kind of thing that drives me absolutely batty. The leap of logic required to jump from "a handful of religious zealots commit horrible acts" to "all Muslims are potential terrorists" is astounding. Seriously, this is the epitome of the hasty generalization fallacy.

Why is it that the majority of U.S. Americans don't call for the surveillance of Christian organizations when an abortion clinic is bombed? No need to answer; it's a rhetorical question.

I have zero hope that our country will ever get its collective shit together.

From the Should be Sleeping Department: The Anarchist Wine Cellar

I found the following in an interview with Emily Haines, front woman for Metric, sometime member of Broken Social Scene, and recently gone soloteer (Knives Don’t Have Your Back)

Interviewer: I’m sure your hosts will be impressed when you arrive on their doorstep with a fine imported bottle of Italian red.

Haines: Most of my friends and family—we’re anarchists—so I need to be very careful. I’ll buy a bottle of wine that I think is great, but it will turn out to be from some region that was destroyed by the establishment. I’ll become very unpopular.

Awesome. Socially conscious wine shopping. Heh.

If Gwen Stefani and Sarah McLachlan weren't taking up all my celebrity crush head space, Emily Haines would be a definite candidate.

On a more serious note, STK and I met Haines a few years back at an extremely small club in Denver. She spotted us (the only alternatively dressed people in a sea of frat inspired fashion) and asked us to hang out with her at the merchandise table for the better part of the night. I'm sure she has no recollection of that evening but it meant a lot to us. Why would Emily Haines spend 2-3 hours with a couple fans in Denver? I'd like to think it's because STK and I are good people and exude authenticity with those we meet. Who knows. One thing is certain, STK and I won't forget the night we hung out with Emily Haines. She's the real deal and I'm certain she really does choose her wine carefully.

Grading. Check.

12:20 AM. The last class day of the semester. Grading is complete. T-minus 108 hours before final exam/paper wave commences.

blather

*The semester is wrapping up and it can't come too soon. The final two weeks of the semester are always insane in terms of grading. That said, the current grading avalanche is nothing compared to when I had 230 students a semester. By comparison, 59 students makes for easy work.

*We're making the transition to broadband phone service next week. With the recent cell phone purchase, the 911 issue is no longer a problem (power outage=no internet access=no phone--not a great combination with an infant in the house). Our local broadband company finally seduced me to the dark side with the promise of no phone charge for six months, then only $30/month for phone service including voice mail (Qwest doesn't offer the voice mail service in our area. Huh?), unlimited long distance, etc.

*I should be grading papers tonight but we've lined up a sitter and we're heading to see Casino Royale with Dr. OneDink and J. I've always loved Bond and can't wait to see what appears to be one of the best critically received Bonds. Did I mention it's free popcorn night at the local theater? Gotta love the small town mentality.

*We won't be making it back to Colorado for the holidays. STK works until the 22nd and we both return to work on January 3. If we factor in two days out and two days back, that doesn't leave a whole lot of time to actually enjoy the Big City. So, we've decided to stick it out until we're both off for summer break.

*I'm thinking about submitting an abstract, one that's been refused a couple other places, to the 2007 SW/Texas Popular Culture Association convention (Albuquerque). I still have some travel funds available and might as well use them up, eh?

Hero

STK recently overheard an anonymous third grader utter the following in her classroom.

"Save the cheerleader, save the world."

Brings a tear to my eye when I hear a youngling embrace geek speak.

Grinder v2.0

As almost any of my family, friends, and acquaintances know, I am a coffee geek. I love coffee. Good coffee. Really good coffee. Serving me a cup of Folgers, Maxwell House, Hills Bros or any other brand of bulk robusta crap is a personal affront. If you visited my house, I wouldn't offer you a drink from the dog dish. Why would you offer me the coffee equivalent?

Anyway, several years ago I learned one of the simple secrets of brewing good drip coffee: the proper grind. Coffee geeks will confirm my assertion: a good grind totally changes the taste of coffee. When I learned the secret of all coffee secrets, I ran out and purchased a decent burr grinder. And grind the grinder did. That particular grinder served me well for the better part of three years. Last year, however, I noticed the little grinder that could wasn't grinding so well. Yes, I managed to wear out the burrs on a burr grinder. I poked around the Internets a bit and, much to my dismay, learned the burrs aren't all that easy to replace (or to even find).

With the holidays around the corner, I decided to use some of my holiday bank on a new grinder. It should arrive tomorrow afternoon. In all seriousness, I'm not sure I'll sleep well tonight.

Next year, I add the espresso machine.

Feastolicious

Appetizer--Have you ever flown in a helicopter?
Nope.

Soup--What color is your warmest coat or jacket?
You know, none of my jackets are really warm enough for the weather in these parts. I typically wear a black Navy peacoat with a fleece vest layered beneath.

Salad--What is your favorite rainy day activity?
Sleeping?

Main Course--Describe your hands.
Smallish, slender, and in need of some serious moisturizer.

Dessert--If you could eat only one nut for the rest of your life, what nut would you pick?
Pistachios, pistachios, and more pistachios. Even though I love pistachios, I typically eat more peanuts and walnuts. Go figure.

Study Ourselves

The purpose of studying Buddhism is not to study Buddhism, but to study ourselves.

-Shunryu Suzuki, "Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind"

Isn't this the purpose of all spiritual practice? Regardless of the path we chose, don't we engage in a systematic investigation of the spiritual principles associated with that particular practice and apply those principles to both our personal lives/experiences as well as the broader human condition?

The Return of an Old Friend

Have I mentioned lately how much I miss Buffy? Seriously, even though Battlestar Galactica and Heroes are excellent science fiction fare, neither is quite on par with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And since none of the networks seem smart enough to pick up a Buffy spin off, let alone a new Whedon program, I'll have to settle for the next best thing:

Buffy: Season Eight. Comic book style!

This one has already been added to my hold file.

Handyman Negri

I'll let you in on a little secret: I'm pretty handy with tools. Anyone who spends time with me will know that I talk a mean streak about hating yard work, household repairs, and other handy chores. And I do. I would rather do just about anything other than mow the lawn, paint a room, or make minor plumbing repairs. My time is much better spent reading a book, playing a video game, grading papers, napping, etc. What most people don't realize, however, is that I'm actually fairly skilled when it comes to yard work and household repair miscellany. I have a decent set of tools--surprise, surprise--thanks in no small part to my father.*

Throughout my childhood my parents remodeled, or built from the ground up, every single home we ever inhabited. As their child, I was cheap labor. You name it, I've done it: framing, drywalling, trimming (cut & stain), pouring concrete, running electrical, installing an automated sprinkler system, minor plumbing repairs. The list goes on and on and on. The only things I haven't done are siding and roofing. The siding thing looks more cumbersome then difficult; the roofing thing I think I could figure out. In fact, I'm going to be doing some minor roof work when the warmer weather returns in the spring. I'll probably be doing a little masonry repair work, too.

Today, much to my father's joy, I spent the afternoon repairing our automatic garage door. The people who owned the house before us didn't maintain their garage door as required. Over the years, the garage door went out of balance, the engine had to work far harder than usual (the engine gets the door moving--the springs should do 90 percent of the work), and internal gears got chewed to nothingness. So, rather than call a repair person and buy a new door opener, I jumped on my local internets and ordered the part I needed. Feeling mostly recovered from the stomach ailment, I decided to spend my Thanksgiving afternoon at the top of a ladder. The process of replacing the worn gear wasn't nearly as difficult as I feared; readjusting the door after the process was another thing altogether. I spent more time adjusting the chain tension, setting the Up & Down limits, and lubricating the hinges than I did replacing the actual worn out part. Needless to say, the job is complete and I suffered only minor injury. At the end of the process, and I mean I was completely finished, I misstepped coming down off the ladder and crashed to the concrete floor. My left wrist, elbow, and butt cheek took the major part of the impact. The wrist and elbow seem not so worse for wear. The buttock, on the other hand, is getting sorer and sorer as the night progresses. I suspect I'll have a nasty bruise in a few days. I guess that's the price you pay when you try to save yourself a few bucks.**

I capped off the evening with a couple episodes of Farscape with STK. What an exciting Thanksgiving, eh?

*Although I'm loathe to admit that I need to significantly increase my tool collection. Now that I'm a homeowner, I can't call the landlord for the tiny little stuff that needs doing. A better drill, a good circular saw, a couple of decent saw horses, a pair of vice grips, and a good tool belt would round out the collection.

**Okay, I probably saved a couple hundred bucks doing this one on my own. Having someone service a garage door is not inexpensive. Trust me on this--my grandparents owned and operated a garage door company for the better part of 40 years. I suppose there was a bit of pride at work with the garage door, too. How could I ever look my grandmother in the eye if I'd betrayed the family legacy and asked someone else to work on my garage door? The shame. Oh, the shame. Garage door maintenance is in our blood.

the Big Suck continues

Remember that stomach ailment that afflicted STK and TLO? Guess who spent most of yesterday worshiping the porcelain God? I hate vomiting; it reminds me of my early drinking days. Ick.

with all the sickiness whirling around our home, Thanksgiving has been officially postponed until Saturday. That is all.

Quarantined!

After 3.5 miserable days in San Antonio, I finally arrived back at home for a full day of rest before heading back to school for the ridiculous pre-Thanksgiving break Monday & Tuesday. Why we don't just call the entire week a holiday break, I'll never know. I arrived home early Sunday morning, my head still throbbing, and collapsed into the comfort of my own bed.* I woke up at 9 and hoped I'd enjoy a day of napping/convalescing. Wrong answer. The stomach flu hit our household, taking STK and TLO down for the count. In fact, STK still hasn't been able to go back to work and, thanks to a relapse tonight, won't be working tomorrow either. TLO has been banished from daycare for the remainder of the week.

How have I been holding up? I haven't, I'm afraid to admit. Since I'm the only adult who's well enough to maneuver, I've had to ignore my own need for sleep/rest/healing. I haven't been happy about the situation and I've let everyone around me--STK, TLO, the pets--know that I am not pleased. Still dealing with the remnants of the avian bird flu I contracted in San Antonio, my patience has been nonexistent. I've been mean, short tempered, and generally icky to be around. STK even suggested I give some thought to living somewhere else until all the illnesses blow over. I gave it serious thought. I'm a selfish bastard, and a rather unlikable bastard, when I don't feel well. Not quite the person you want ministering to your illness.

If STK is too sick to care for TLO tomorrow, it looks like I'll be canceling class and tending to the ill. Meanwhile, my head is still thudding in the background (the head affliction has downgraded from pounding to thudding--I think I might even be approaching throbbing territory).

The last week has been one big suck.

*STK and DrOneDink think I experienced my first migraine headache. I disagree. I've never had a migraine in my life. I'm still voting for the bizzaro sinus ailment hypothesis.

Oops

I had a nice long post typed out recounting the disaster that is my trip to our national convention. Suffice it to say that I've been sick the whole frelling trip. As the plane descended to San Antonio, our host city, I noticed some rather nasty sinus pressure. By late evening the chills, temperature, headache, and sore throat took up residence in my body. Despite copious amounts of Zicam, ibuprofen, and various other remedies, I'm still not up to snuff. I missed my panel (and slept), made a quick tour of the book exhibit earlier today, and retired to my hotel room.

To add insult to injury, I just spilled a cup of coffee on the table and some of the coffee apparently worked its way into the laptop. Error. Crack. Snapple. Pop. Shut down. An hour later, I managed to get the thing started in Safe Mode. A few minutes later, all systems seem to be restored to normal ::crosses fingers:: A new laptop purchase is inevitable as this one is WAY old, but I was hoping to wait until after the holiday season. Let's hope it holds out a couple more months.

What a freakin' trip. I can't wait to go home.

Huh?

Since informing a student that I would not have the time to read through another copy of a manuscript for at least week--other papers/assignments/conventions are in the queue--I've received nearly a dozen emails asking me to read a manuscript. No joke. The requests are written as if I'd never said a single word. I've spent more time with this single student than any other student. Ever. Time for others' work, including my own, to take precedence.

The Unknown

By Donald Rumsfeld.

The Unknown
As we know,
There are known knowns.
There are things we know we know.
We also know
There are known unknowns.
That is to say
We know there are some things
We do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns,
The ones we don't know
We don't know.

—Feb. 12, 2002, Department of Defense news briefing

Beautiful prose. Absolutely beautiful. What's even more beautiful is the fact that the author--a wonderful poet but horrible Secretary of Defense--will now have plenty of time to write.

Easier Softer Way

The Spiritual Science Research Foundation (SSRF) states that 96% of the root causes of any type of addiction are actually in the spiritual realm, caused due to possession by an entity.

If I'm reading this article correctly, it's highly likely that booze isn't my problem. Instead, I have some kind of demon, ghost, alien entity living rent free in my head? Call the exorcist and pass the Jagermeister!

The Worm Turns

As I've been stressing to many of my progressive colleagues over the last several years, patience pays off. Whenever U.S. politics makes a drastic move left or right, the pendulum always swings back the other way. Tonight is proof positive of that fact. No matter how you try to spin it, the Democrats made huge gains in the House and possibly the Senate. Provided the Democrats actually take on the role of loyal opposition, we'll have a real check and balance in Washington, D. C.

While I'm pleased that Democrats won big, I'm terribly disappointed by the Colorado race involving Marilyn Musgrave. What a hateful human being. Why anyone would choose to vote for her, I'll never know. She's a one trick pony, continually banging the drums of war for a Constitutional amendment declaring marriage a union between a man and woman. Nothing like basing an entire political career on the denial of civil rights. Ick.

WTF Department: Green Poop

As reported by Dr OneDink, the following line actually appeared in a paper submitted by a college student.

"Rumor has it that grape Mountain Dew turns your poop green."

I'd kill for a student to put something like that in a paper. And, as I shared with Dr. OneDink, I'd write what seemed like a serious comment to the student. I'd write something like the following.

Avoid colloquial expressions in academic writing. Additionally, I'd suggest using a content footnote for this kind of material. Something like, "Peer testimony suggests that consumption of Mountain Dew: Pitch Black may produce verdant excrement" would do the trick nicely.

Review the Pitch Black Dew.
Review the Pitch Black Dew II.
Review the Icee Pitch Black Dew

PC Mania

Thanks to an unexpected escrow refund (gotta love lower than expected property taxes), I finally ordered the much needed new computer. My present computer, which has been an absolute work horse, is pushing three years old. When a computer takes 4-5 minutes to warm up to the point that you can actually open applications, you know you're pushing your luck. With STK's blessing, I took the plunge (only after confirming I'd be receiving a free Vista upgrade) and should have a new desktop by early next week.

It's very similar to this model. While it's not a top-of-the-line rig, it's a vast improvement over my current PC. I'll probably add another 1 GB of RAM, a new power source, and a PCI express video card in the coming months.

Asthma the Kid. Wahoo!

I'm not sure why I haven't blogged about this before now. Maybe I'm a little bit superstitious, although not consciously superstitious, and feared that any mention of the situation might manifest a turn for the worse. Who knows.

One late afternoon a couple weeks back, I arrived at TLO's daycare to find him in a state of respiratory distress. A short while before I arrived, the daycare providers (who are quite good, btw) noticed his little tummy puffing in and out in an obviously exaggerated fashion. I picked him up, listened for a couple seconds, and said, "Yep. That's trouble. We're headed to the doctor ASAP." I hopped on the cell phone and let STK know of TLO's difficulties.*

Halfway to the clinic I glanced back at TLO and found his eyes closed, his head slumped to the side of the car seat. My heart jumped into my throat. I yelled out his name, "TLO!" His eyes opened with start. He'd fallen asleep, something he does frequently on our ride home from daycare. My heart stuffed back into my chest cavity, we completed the short journey to the clinic.

We arrived at our local clinic only to find that all of the doctors were booked. What would you expect less than an hour from closing (It's the Midwest, folks. Everything closes around 5:30, believe it or not). Not to be denied medical treatment, we walked 20 yards to the Emergency Room. Within minutes, TLO and I were in an examining room receiving attention. Temperature. Blood pressure. 0xygen levels. Breathing. Both nurse and doctor confirmed my lay diagnosis: a wheezing chest. TLO received a visit from a respiratory therapist who expertly administered an asthma treatment. TLO, the trooper that he his, giggled and flirted with the therapist while she patiently directed the soothing mist toward his mouth and nose.** The wheezing abated within five minutes. Nebulizer + albuterol = relief. And thank goodness for that.

The proud owners of a Nebulizer 3000, we all made our way home and crashed. After a full week of regular treatments, we went to "as needed" status and have only had to administer one treatment. That's a good thing. I hate to see TLO dealing with asthma at such a young age but, at this point, it's totally manageable.

Asthma runs strong in your family. Your father has it. Your mother has it. You have it.

*Good thing we purchased cell phones, eh? Actually, we've used them to communicate about TLO's various illnesses a couple times. Illnesses, you say? That's a post for another time. For now, let's just say that the phrase "Germ Factory" is an appropriate description of the daycare environment.

**Unlike an adult who treats asthma with an inhaler, an infant can't inhale on command. As a result, a treatment consists of slowly administering the medicine in a very fine mist form. For a period of five minutes or so, you keep the mist swirling around a kid's mouth and nose. It's a slow method, but TLO seems to do just fine with it. In fact, he'll occasionally turn directly to the mouthpiece and start inhaling deeply and methodically. Somehow, he figured out that he receives relief from the treatment. Smart kid!

Quote of the Day

David Letterman to Bill O'Reilly: "I have no idea what I'm talking about. But I don't think you do, either."

Feastolicious

Friday's Feast, October 27, 2006

Appetizer--Create a new candle scent.
Parchment. When burning, the candle fills the room with the lovely scent of a library. Who doesn't love the smell of slowly deteriorating paper? I absolutely love it. Would you believe it's one of my favorite scents? Second to clove, of course.

Soup--Name one way you show affection to others.
I'm a pretty good hugger. Thanks, Mom!

Salad--What is your favorite writing instrument?
Pentel Twist-Erase Mechanical Pencil (0.5). No other writing utensil even comes close. I'm open to using the black, green, or violet pencils. Blue, not so much.

Main Course--If you were given $25 to spend anywhere online, from which site would you buy?
Alibris. Excellent used bookstore. There are a couple books I'd love to get. If I couldn't find anything particularly exciting at Alibris, I'd surf on over to Harriet's Little Soap Company and order several bars of clove scented soap.

Dessert--Are you dressing up for Halloween? If so, what are you going to be?
I think I'm going as a scary scarecrow. None of that friendly Wizard of Oz crap for me. In fact, I think I'm going to make a real scarecrow, too. On Halloween night, I'll switch places with the scarecrow from time to time and scare the begeezus out of unsuspecting trick or treaters.

Bits & Pieces

I don't know who lit a fire under the folks who write/produce Smallville, but the least few episodes have been the best in years. The introduction of Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, has been nothing but fun, fun, fun. An EMP arrow? Oh, yeah! Thankfully, Oliver and Clark already know about each other's extracurricular activities, saving us from a year of ridiculously contrived scenes in which secret identities are protected. Now, if Green Lantern would make an appearance. In brightest day, in darkest night . . .

I started reading Barak Obama's The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream yesterday. Since the late 90s, I've refused to support either of the major parties and have cast my lot with a no-shot-in-hell third party candidate. I'm fifty pages into his book and, should he decide to run, I might have to give him a serious look.

Starbucks continues to garner media attention, this time as a result of various marketing maneuvers and rhetorical strategies: Starbucks as Cultural Filter; The Starbucks Aesthetic. Despite my love/hate relationship with the franchise, I have to admit they do a terrific job adjusting their marketing message. Their coffee, while better than vacuum packed Folgers, isn't all that great; the big draw of Starbucks is the trendy vibe. People feel hip when they order their skinny, no foam Carmel Cappamachiolatte. Hold the whip. Even though the majority of the Starbucks' roasts possess a subtle hint of burnt coffee bean, the overall architectural aesthetic appeals to the snobbiest of coffee geeks: me. Go figure.

Class Act

Once upon a time, there was a young man who idolized Rush Limbaugh. He read Limbaugh's books, listened to Limbaugh's radio show, and watched Limbaugh's television program. He agreed with almost every single opinion given voice by Rush.

::flash forward thirteen years::

WTF was I thinking? The fact that I saw this snake oil salesman as a legitimate political voice still makes my stomach hurt. I may have even subscribed to the National Review at his televised urging. Ugh! Today, you can see exactly what Rush Limbaugh is about:

Michael J. Fox is faking the effects of Parkinson's disease!

That's low, even for Rush.

Conversational Realities: No More Manga

Overhead while waiting in line for ice cream.

Mom: You've been watching too much manga.
Child: What?!
Mom: Yep. No more manga for you.

Weekly Reader

Science Fiction in the Shadows
Battlestar Galactica is not about exploring new frontiers. It is about survival and the things humans will do to survive. But as Moore has said, it is not merely enough to survive: one has to be worthy of survival. The show has explored some of the darker aspects of warfare, such as torture and the dehumanization of the enemy—something that is supposedly easier when the enemy is not even human to begin with. Like Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica has used its science fiction setting to explore current social issues, most obviously the war on terrorism and the invasion of Iraq. Its stories are powerful, poignant, challenging, and often brilliant.

Another reason why I have to pull together my BSG article. Although Star Trek is clearly THE example of influential science fiction, a darker vision of the future or the human race does not necessarily mean a particular film or movie can't be just as valuable as Trek was back in the 60s.

Popular Culture vs The Flying Saucers!
U.S. pop culture, as with much of westernized cultures, are infiltrated with alien/UFO imagery. Seeing it as a contamination is subjective opinion. What is ironic and insidious -- certainly more insidious than some notion of being contaminated by this imagery -- is the fact that, while we are being infiltrated by these images, we are not addressing them in any serious way.

Nature vs Nurture
In tests in Canada, women who were told that men and women do math equally well did much better than those who were told there is a genetic difference in math ability. And women who heard there were differences caused by environment — such as math teachers giving more attention to boys — outperformed those who were simply reminded they were females.

Imagine that. I've been making this argument for years.

Jeffrey Rules! Laura Drools!

I rarely get totally wrapped up in competition style reality television. Until now. Being a fan of Project Runway, I've always enjoyed watching the designers craft something new, unusual, and brilliant (and sometimes old, mundane, and just plain uninspired). Even so, I've never really actively cheered, out loud, during a finale. Tonight was the exception.

As regular viewers of the show will understand, Jeffrey has been the guy many fans love to hate. He's arrogant, brash, and alternative; he goes out of his way to intentionally rile people up. Over the course of Season 3, however, he became my favorite. His rock and roll aesthetic, while something of a one trick pony, appeals to me. What appeals to me more than his rebellious attitude is the fact that he's in recovery. I'm not sure I can articulate the connection I feel with other people in recovery, but it's definitely there. It's like I know an intimate part of their experience, a part no "normie" could ever understand.

Last week, in Part I of the season finale, one of other finalists (there were four total) accused Jeffrey of outsourcing his work. In other words, Laura accused him of cheating. As if I needed another reason, Laura's accusation evoked my wrath. How dare she accuse Jeffrey of cheating!? When she made the accusation I turned to STK and said, "She's dead wrong. If he's been sober this long, he understands the meaning of rigorous honesty. You don't stay sober unless you're honest with yourself and with others. If he's really in recovery, and I think he is, he didn't cheat." For the last week, I seethed over this silly show. I scoured the internet for word of Jeffrey's fate, defended him to anyone who would listen, and bad mouthed Laura at every turn (I can't stand that pretentious upper crust snot).

Tonight, I will rest easier. Not only did the producers of the show find Jeffrey innocent of any significant wrong doing, but he won the entire contest! w00t! A victory for recovering people everywhere.

Take that, Laura. Pack up your unimaginative evening gowns and head back to turtle poop lane.

Feastolicious

Friday's Feast, October 13, 2006

Appetizer--Approximately how many hours per week do you spend reading other blogs?
Two or three, I think. I make the regular rounds of my friends, then spend a goodly amount of time reading academic & popular culture blogs. Do I get points for being extra geeky?

Soup--Your community wants everyone to give one thing to put into a time capsule. What item would you choose to include?
A box set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The greatness of that television program should never be forgotten.

Salad--What is the most interesting tourist attraction you've ever visited?
I don't know that this counts as a tourist attraction, but I once visited a Goth club in Utrecht, Netherlands. Very cool experience. For the most part, the styles and music were almost exactly the same as back here in the states.

Main Course--If you could give an award to anyone for anything, who would it be and what would the award be titled?
The Excellence in Art Education Award would be presented to my wife, STK. Seriously, she's an absolutely fabulous teacher. Every person I've ever met from her workplace makes a point of saying, "Do you know how amazing your wife is?" I just smile and say, "Of course! That's why I married her."

Dessert--What do you think your favorite color reveals about your personality?
I'd like to think the color green reveals my deep commitment to non-violence and my desire to honor all life on this planet. Of course, green could also be some kind of reference to the jealous creature I used to be during my late teens and early twenties. Thank goodness those days are long gone.

dilliwag wept

655,000 deaths.

There had to be a better way. There just had to be a better way.

Stay on Target

If anyone wants to help me focus my attention, I'd be open to thoughts regarding which project I should pursue first. The four projects include:

Starhawkian Rhetoric. Based on a paper I wrote in grad school and written as an update/response to an article published in the mid 90s, this essay examines the writings of Starhawk and suggests a new way of approaching the notion of rhetorical visions. I'm using the rhetoric of Barak Obama as a case study for the theoretical frame that emerges from Starhawk's work. This project is realistically about 1/2 finished.

The Dissertation Chapter That Should Have Been Written. One of the realizations that emerged from my dissertation defense 1.5 years ago (has it been that long?!) is that I probably should have written another chapter highlighting the resistant characteristics of the goth scene. While I definitely touched on resistance throughout the work, I never offered a decisive "Here are three major cultural practices being resisted" moment. Unlike many postsubcultural scholars, I do believe spectacular subcultures are more than "postmodern pleasuredomes". As such, the DCTSHBW will sythesize my observations and present a clear, cohesive argument for a goth rhetoric of resistance. This project is probably about 1/8 finished.

We are All Cylons: Battlestar Galactica and Fandom’s Fitting Response. This is a project I started thinking about last year and submitted as both a convention paper and book chapter. Denied in both venues! I'm tweaking my abstract and proposal in another attempt to present this work at a convention. The old version follows. This essay positions Ron Moore’s contemporary reconceptualization of Battlestar Galactica as part of an on-going public dialogue concerning ethics and human rights. Touching on such thought-provoking issues as terrorism, torture, and rape, Battlestar Galactica offers a dialogic hail that requires a fitting response. Message board posts provide an opportunity to examine the way in which fans acknowledge the hail and participate in the dynamic moment of communal discernment. This project is about 1/20 complete.

Chocolate Madonna as Spiritual Communication. As I wrote a while back, I'm totally obsessed with the communicative aspect of the appearances of the Virgin Mary, Jesus, the Arabic script for Allah, ghosts, etc. Even if they aren't real--the skeptic in me says there's nothing miraculous going on here--what does this phenomenon communicate to us about our culture? I'm just in the process of conceptualizing this research project so I'm guessing I'm about 1/100th of the way finished.

The sensible approach would be to work on the project that's closest to being finished and move on down the list, right? The problem is that I'm WAY more interested in working on the BSG essay. There's a fifth piece that's also waiting in the wings that's probably about 1/2 finished, too. I'm reading a book that could add a dimension to that essay so it's on hold until I find some time to read (which is amazingly difficult to find, believe it or not).

phwned

My hatred of cell phones is well known. Friends, family, and students have heard me curse, berate, and deconstruct the profileration of cell phone technology. If you own a cell phone, listen up. I don't need to listen to your conversation while I'm trying to read or grade papers at the local coffee house. I'd prefer not to listen to you negotiate a good rental DVD with your significant other at Blockbuster, Hollywood Video, or wherever. I also don't want to listen to you put together a verbal grocery list while you're wheeling your cart up and down the isles of King Soopers. I'm sure someone will read my reactions and say, "These conversations go on when people aren't using their cell phones. Quit being silly." People do hold face-to-face conversations about these very topics. The difference is that they seem to be better at monitoring their volume during conversations in a shared space. Cell phone users shout their conversations.

And another thing: what is so freakin important that you can't wait until the end of dinner, or a movie, to talk to someone? It drives me absolutely nuts when a friend, colleague, or student stops a conversation to take a call. Watching students reach for their cell phones the moment class ends--maybe even before if they're really rude--receives a shake of the head from this professor. I made it through ten years of higher education without ever missing an important call. Somehow, every important message made it to my email box or home phone. Seriously, are people so much more important today that we must be available 24/7? As a culture, we've become overly accessible. The damn things drive me nuts.

Did I mention STK and I purchased cell phones a few days back? ::hangs head::

The Feast

Friday's Feast, October 06, 2006

Appetizer--Name a song you know by heart
Blackbird, The Beatles. I sing the song to TLO when he's distressed and it always seems to soothe the savage beast.

Soup--What will you absolutely not do in front of another person?
Put an exam together. Exams are super secret, classified material and should never be shown to the eyes of another.

Salad--How often do you use mouthwash and what kind do you like?
Never. I'm in recovery and most mouthwash has significant amounts of alcohol. You might as well be mouthwashing with peppermint schnapps. Bleh.

Main Course--Finish this sentence: I am embarrassed when...
I don't embarrass easily, but I guess I feel a little weird when I totally blow it in front of my students. For instance, I misread the syllabus one day last year and covered the wrong lecture material. Students were mystified as to why I was talking about an article we weren't supposed to read until the following week.

Dessert--What was the last food you craved?
Coffee. Every morning.

Conversational Realities: Ditch It

Earlier today, I encountered one the local neighborhood hooligans (he's a nice kid, actually) kickin' it in front of his house.

Me: Hey, aren't you supposed to be in school?!
NH: Nah, I home school.
Me: Good thing. I totally thought I was going to have to bust you for ditching.
NH: If I was in public school, I'd definitely be ditching.

Classic.

I Told You So v2.0

Okay, so I knew my recollection of my race time had to be off. 37:40 does not translate to a 7:04 pace. The official results are finally posted and I actually ran the race in 35:13:0. That looks even better!

I Told You So

Despite the diagnosis of post tibial tendonitis--more an irritant than an actual ailment--I decided to continue a modified training regimine which culminated in an 8K race early this morning. Five miles is a pretty standard run for me . . . when I'm not injured. The nagging ankle limited any kind of distance running--5 miles--to twice a week. The rest of the week I trained on the treadmill or exercise bike. Coupled with ice massage and some light resistance exercises, the pain subsided considerably. Still, I'm not anywhere near the running shape I was in at the end of July and I had some doubts about how the race would go.

Early in the month, I set a goal of hitting the 40 minute mark for the race. I figured an eight minute per mile pace was quite reasonable, even with an injury. I tried running five miles in 40 minutes on the treadmill earlier this week and failed. Spirit crushed, I resigned myself to simply running my best and letting my time fall where it might. Go, me! Bleh.*

The 5 AM wake up? Brutal. I rolled out of bed, pulled on my running clothes, ate a half cup of honey nut scooters (Malt-O-Meal honey nut cheerios) and raisins, drank 8 oz of water, and a couple cups of coffee. Once Dr. OneDink and I arrived at the race location and picked up our goodie bag and strapped on our electronic timing chips, I warmed up with a moderate 10 minute run. The ankle twinged now and again, but felt decent. Was it 100 percent? Not even close; I may not ever be at 100 percent in that ankle (my hip and knee are never quite pain free--the pains come and go ::shrug::). The race started, Dr. OneDink and parted company, and I dropped into a brisk, yet comfortable, pace. At about the 1st mile, many of the runners started to fall back. Before long, I realized I had run my way toward the front of the racing pack. Was I with the elite runners? Ha! Was I with the advanced runners? I'd like to think so. The course itself was flat, flat, flat and the surface of the race posed the only real problem: concrete and pavement. Talk about unforgiving.

At about the halfway mark the cold morning air started hammering away at my asthma. Yes, a couple hits of the inhaler are part of my daily running routine and this morning was no exception. Typically, breathing isn't a problem. I'm sure it was both the cold air and the fact that I was running beyond my training that lead to the difficulties. Refusing to slow down, I sucked it up and ran through the mild wheezing. It was painful but not unmanageable.

At the four mile mark (only one mile to go), I tried to kick it up a notch and had no juice left in the tank. All I could do was maintain my pace. I didn't slow down, but had nothing left for that little extra push. So I continued apace, watching three runners I would normally beat pass me in the last half mile. As I turned the final corner and started toward the finish line, I glanced at the time clock and surprised myself with a 37:20 finish (7:04 mile pace). Exhausted, I looked around for my anticipated cheering section. STK and TLO were nowhere to be found. I celebrated my better-than-expected race in solitude. Which was okay, really. I enjoyed a good cool down, a banana, and half a chocolate chip bagel--the free chow is one of the great things about races--before my fan club arrived. This is the second time STK misjudged the time to be back at a race finish line (I even suggested she should be back at the course after 35 minutes, just to be safe). We've decided that our tradition will be for she and TLO to be at the start of the race and always miss the finish. I seem to do better than expected when they're not waiting.

The final results: I finished 29th overall, 26th among men, and 4th in my age group. Not bad for a rapidly approaching middle age guy running on a bad ankle, I think. I'm paying for it tonight--the ankle hurts more than it has in weeks and I'm limping noticeably. And it's worth every twinge of pain. There's another race coming up on October 21--I wonder if I can eek another few weeks out of the ankle?

*I'm not the most competitive person in world . . . when it comes to others. Competitive with myself much? That's another story altogether.

Feastin' on Wasabi

Friday's Feast, September 29, 2006

Appetizer--What is your favorite herb or spice?
Wasabi! I love it when the fumes waft up my nose and make my eyes water.

Soup--Name a song you like but haven't heard in a long time.
Abracadabra. Steve Miller Band. Terrible song, but I just loved it during middle school. Why the heck did I think of that? No clue.

Salad--If you were to take just one minute to write down as many things as you can think of that you need (not want) to do, approximately how many things would there be?
A half dozen or so. We're going on an overnight excursion--I'm running a race tomorrow AM with Dr. OneDink--and I have several things I need to get done when I get home from school.

Get dog stuffs ready for kennel.
Finish packing TLO miscellany.
Double check my race gear (where are my knit gloves, damnit!?)
Pack car.
Take dogs to kennel.
Drive to destination city.
Enjoy times with friends and family.

Main Course--Tell something interesting about one of your family members (nothing scandalous, please, just something unique).
My sister is a speech pathologist.

Dessert--What's the latest you've ever stayed awake?
Well, I once stayed awake for almost two days. I think I finally went to sleep almost 48 hours at 8 AM. Is that late or early?

Weekly Reader

WTF Department: The Mancation. From the article:
An "Urban Dictionary" definition for mancation describes it as men engaging in masculine activities such as sports, camping, gambling, chasing women and drinking, without the presence of wives, mistresses or girlfriends. Vince Vaughn helped popularize the term in this summer's romantic comedy "The Break-Up."
I can't even begin to explain how disturbing I find the idea of "chasing women" as some kind of sport or game.

American Buddhism on the Rise. Still, a healthy American Buddhism with its own characteristics is emerging. It is less doctrinal and ritualistic than in the East and more meditation oriented, less hierarchical and more democratic and egalitarian. It is more lay-oriented than monastic, and more socially and ecologically engaged.
STK and I would consider ourselves part of the rising number of American Buddhists. Oddly enough, we have a beautiful monastery 15 minutes from SMC.

Superhero Worship Glamour isn’t beauty or luxury; those are only specific manifestations for specific audiences. Glamour is an imaginative process that creates a specific, emotional response: a sharp mixture of projection, longing, admiration, and aspiration. It evokes an audience’s hopes and dreams and makes them seem attainable, all the while maintaining enough distance to sustain the fantasy. The elements that create glamour are not specific styles—bias-cut gowns or lacquered furniture—but more general qualities: grace, mystery, transcendence.
Good stuff for comic book fans.

Fruitless Words

Just like a blossom,
bright colored
but scentless:
a well-spoken word
is fruitless
when not carried out.

-Dhammapada, 4, translated by Thanissaro Bhikkhu.

The Feast!

Friday, September 22, 2006, Feast One Hundred & Twelve

Appetizer--Measured in minutes or hours, how much exercise have you had in the last week?
Somewhere around four hours, I think. Typically, I'd be closer to between seven and ten hours but this damn tendonitis will. not. quit. So, I've been taking a day off about every three days.

Soup--If you had to change your blog title to something else, what would it be?
Being Geek Cool.

Salad--Name one television show you watched when you were 9-12 years old.
Battlestar Galactica. Oddly enough, I'm watching Battlestar Galactica some 29 years later. You should be watching Battlestar Galactica, too.

Main Course--If someone gave you $50 to spend with the one condition that it had to be educational, what would you purchase?
I think I'd put the $50 toward The Writings of Samuel Adams, vol. I-IV. A complete set, if you can find it, goes for around $150.

Dessert--Do you tend to prefer dark colors, neutral shades, or lighter/pastel hues?
Dark, darker, darkest. 75 percent of my wardrobe is black.

Good News . . .

And it's not about my car insurance. We found out a couple days back that one of my colleagues will remain on sabbatical/leave for the 2007-08 school year. While that isn't good news in and of itself--I rather like this particular colleague--it means that T will be able to retain her visiting professor gig for a second year. That's contingent on whether or not she gets a tenure track offer from another school. If that happens--she's on the job market, as she should be--she'd have to accept and we'd be looking for another visiting scholar.

Provided she doesn't do something silly like show porn in class, which she threatened to do today, the job is hers. You should have seen one of the members of our department shoot out of his office when T mentioned the word "porn." Too funny. In her defense, she was talking about how elements of porn have entered television, movies, advertising, and the like. Her phrasing about what she inteneded to teach in class, however, was purposefully vague and ambiguous. Having known her for years, I read through the ambiguity--I'm privy to the secret T code! Others are not so lucky and haven't quite figured her out (and I hope they never do).

What's New?

Not a whole lot, actually. I'm always hesitant to write one of these "here's what's happening" posts as I don't find my own life particularly exciting. That said, I know a handful of my readers check in to see what's going on in my life. And that's largely a result of my own inability to compose personal email. What's up with that?

Autumn arrived early in Small Midwest Town: the leaves are in full change mode, the temperature has dropped into the 50s/60s (40s at night), and rain falls regularly. What happened to the beautiful 80 degree weather of a couple weeks back? I could have enjoyed that for a while longer. Alas, it looks to be an early Fall and Winter. Thankfully, I got the weed/feed on the lawn during a two day stretch without precipitation. My father would be so proud.

School zooms along for both myself and STK. I'm teaching nothing but rhetoric related courses this semester. Teaching rhetoric makes me a happy boy. I'm trying to get some research done and have no less then four research ideas bouncing around my head simultaneously. As I can't seem to focus on one project, I spend all my time thinking/reading and getting nothing written. STK still loves her new teaching position despite the commute.

TLO continues to change, grow, and evolve. If you're ever thinking of having a kid, you can forget about all those instruction manual type books you find at Barnes and Noble. The truth of the matter is that raising a kid is more or less about winging it than anything else. One week our kid is sleeping through the night, the next week he's waking up and playing from 2-3 AM. One week he loves cantaloupe, the next he's spitting it out. One week he loves daycare and blows me off when I tell him "goodbye", the next week he's going into a tear-gushing, meltdown when I drop him off. Oh, and if you just can't wait until the little person starts to walk, you might want to reconsider. How much do you enjoy chasing a child around your living quarters? Get some new runnings shoes because that's about all you're going to be doing for a while. Did I mention TLO is obsessed with Elmo? And that I can sing the words to Elmo's World? And that I've created a version that I sing to TLO? The joys of parenthood. Or is that the insanity of parenthood? I get them mixed up these days.

STK and I celebrated our third anniversary back on the 6th. Thanks to some dear friends, we enjoyed a wonderful night out on the town. Night out on the town in SMT consists of dinner at our one bistro and a trip to the locally owned ice cream joint. STK and I did much reflecting on how much our lives have changed in the last year. We went through a pretty challenging patch with the move, the Albatross, and uncomfortably tight finances and survived. This year is the year our graduate degrees payoff and we start to enjoy a more comfortable way of life.

Looking ahead, I've decided I am going to run an 8K race at the end of month. I did five miles twice last week with only a bit of pain--it's totally manageable provided I don't run hard two days in a row. Cross training and rest days have become the name of the game. While I'm nowhere near the running shape I was at the tail end of July, I'm still in decent shape.

STK and I are also looking forward to a couple nights in The Big City. We've asked T & J to watch TLO for a couple nights and they've agreed. So, we're heading out for a couple nights of Gothy goodness. The last few weeks, we've missed the Goth scene something terrible. We miss the people, the music, the clubs. As STK put it, "I miss being around people like us." That's definitely one of the shortcomings of living in a small, isolated community. The closest "scene" is three hours away. A couple nights out on the goth town will provide some much need contact with alternafolk.

And that's the news from around here. Exciting, eh?

The Frellin' Feast Returns!

Friday's Feast, One Hundred & Eleven

Appetizer--What was the very last song you listened to?
Kathy's Song--Apoptygma Berzerk. No, wait! I watched the video for No Doubt's "New" with one of my classes this afternoon.

Soup--What is one company/store/corporation you would recommend that people stay away from?
Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart!

Salad--On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being highest, how much do you enjoy having your picture made?
6

Main Course--Besides a bookmark, what is something you've used to keep your place in a book?
A receipt.

Dessert--Name a food that you like that most people don't
Black licorice.

Collective

In this world, in order to enable society to develop, all its members have to assume responsibilites and make their contribution. If we do not make collective contributions then there will be no development.

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama, speaking to the Tibetan National Assembly in Dharamsala, May 1989

Weekly Reader

Saving Pluto? This is the best explanation I've seen regarding the demotion of Pluto. Power to the Plutonians!

Macho, Macho Man. I met Robert Jensen a few years back while he was on a book tour promoting Citizens of the Empire. A fantastic book, by the way. Besides being an ardent critic of the current administration, Jensen also writes a great deal about issues of gender and race. This recent pieces offers a terrific summary of the dominant discourse regarding U.S. American masculinity:

That dominant conception of masculinity in U.S. culture is easily summarized: Men are assumed to be naturally competitive and aggressive, and being a real man is therefore marked by the struggle for control, conquest and domination. A man looks at the world, sees what he wants and takes it. Men who don't measure up are wimps, sissies, fags, girls. The worst insult one man can hurl at another -- whether it's boys on the playground or CEOs in the boardroom -- is the accusation that a man is like a woman. Although the culture acknowledges that men can in some situations have traits traditionally associated with women (caring, compassion, tenderness), in the end it is men's strength-expressed-as-toughness that defines us and must trump any female-like softness. Those aspects of masculinity must prevail for a man to be a "real man."

Struggle for Civilization? Poppycock. Isn't anyone else getting tired of this administration's propensity for the melodramatic? Seriously, now the Bush folks are trying to put Osama Bin Laden, Inc. in the same company as Nazis and Communists. Rhetorically, this is a pretty darn good move. Conjure those past demons in the minds of U.S. citizens and you'll see support for the "War on Terror" rise. Honestly, though, aren't most Americans too smart to fall for the faulty analogies? Please, let them be smart enough. And don't get me started on whether or not it's possible to declare war on an ideology, which is exactly what a war on terror is really all about. I'll see if I can't conjure enough fortitude to address this whole thing at length in the near future. No promises, though. Reading any speech by this President and his cohort gives me a stomach ache.

Faeries! Would you believe I discovered a small faery ring in our front lawn? It wasn't nearly as large as the one pictured in this article--I'd guess it was about a foot in diameter--but it was a very odd sight indeed. Why would mushrooms grow in a circle, eh?

Mmmm. Delicious Virgin Mary. Great discussion in class today regarding these supposed appearances of the Virgin Mary, Christ, etc. in everything from a grilled cheese sandwich to chocolate drippings. The question I posed: "Is it possible these kinds of occurances are, in fact, examples of God speaking? If so, how do we approach such phenomena as communication scholars and still be taken seriously?" I think the Virgin Mary on a piece of french toast fits somewhere into my musings on the unexplainable. Even if these forms are nothing more than melted chocolate being interpreted by overactive imaginations, they still mean something. The fact that so many people want to see evidence of something miraculous has to mean something, right?

Diagnosis Confirmed!

I finally broke down and visited the sports medicine clinic regarding the continuing to ache ankle. The physical therapist agreed with my most excellent lay opinion: I have post tibial tendonitis. More valuable than the diagnosis itself is the most excellent list of treatments/remedies passed on by helpful PT: ice massage, ankle strengthening exercises, and more rest. He also informed me that the clinic does videotape gait analysis for a ridiculously low $20. I'm so in! I also got honest with my friendly neighborhood PT and asked, "What happens if I keep running on it? I have a race I'd like to run at the end of the month. Am I in danger of any severe damage?" His answer: "You're in danger of prolonging the tendonitis and possibly aggravating it even further. Anything serious? No. Painful? Probably."

So, the question of the hour is whether I continue to run while the weather is beautiful and convalesce for a month when the weather is crappy or convalesce now and run, indoors, through the crappy months. Other than a constant background pain, the tendonitis doesn't really affect my quality of life. It's more irritating than it is debilitating. If the weather wasn't so incredibly beautiful right now--80 degrees, leaves beginning to change, the smell of an early fall in the air--I'd hang up the shoes for another couple weeks.

I'm leaning toward running now and paying later, of course.

The Unexplainable

As a result of the long weekend, STK and I invited friends over for a farewell dinner. Our friends and their daughter--one month behind TLO in age--are moving to the UK in a few weeks and we wanted to let them know they'd be missed. My school, SMC, made a tragic mistake in not offering the male half of the couple a tenure track position and another school offered him a position. This guy is brilliant, brilliant, brilliant and he would have helped keep our smallish school on the academic map.

Throughout the evening we talked the normal talk: kids, the move, and school. Toward the end of the evening, and I'm not sure how it happened, the conversation turned to an unusual topic: bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, and ghosts. Since my childhood I've waited for that one news story to change my world: Bigfoot Captured! The Loch Ness Monster Lives! Conclusive Evidence of Ghosts! Alas, I'm left with the Weekly World News and narry a real news story in sight. I should also add that while I fantasize about these unexplained phenomena, the skeptic in me knows that all my hoping is for naught. I desperately want these things to be true, but I know they're not. I explained my obsession with all things paranormal and we all shared a good laugh. Then, one of the dinner party shared a real-life ghost story. This wasn't an "I thought I saw something out of the corner of my story" but an on-going experience that lasted years. Another member of his family also experienced the same phenomenon for years. Respecting this person as both a friend and academic, I can't help but believe his story. He absolutely believes ghosts exist. And my hope in the unexplained is rekindled.

Talking about the In Search of . . . type stuff also turned my thinking toward a research project lurking in the back of my mind for years. Even if these unexplained phenomena aren't real, the cultural obsession with them is definitely real. How many special investigation programs do we see every year concerning new evidence of the existence of UFOs? Ghosts? Bigfoot and other cryptids? Heck, even the respected science program NOVA once investigated the likelihood of the Loch Ness Monster.

Could it be these programs, books, websites, etc. that focus on the unexplained serve an important function for our culture? If so, what purpose or function do they serve? The idea percolating in my head revolves around the notion that our culture has lost touch with mystery, the magickal, and the wonderous. We need an answer for everything and perhaps these programs resist that compulsion. Although I don't know much about the original movement, it strikes me that I'm characterizing this fascination with the mysterious and the unknown as a kind of postmodern romanticism. With the proliferation of the scientific method, the superiority of logic and reason, and pervasive skepticism regarding anything out of the ordinary, perhaps these programs provide a means by which we attempt to recapture a sense of imagination. It's worth considering, eh?

These Are the Days of Our Lives

Meetings, meetings, meetings. Last week was all about meetings. 18 hours of meetings, in fact. And I loved every minute of them. Really. No, seriously. I loved them. Yeah, right. Why do we wait until the week before school to offer all these seminars and what not? That's one of the great mysteries of higher education, I suppose. Nevertheless, I survived the meeting onslaught and started teaching on Wednesday. It should be a fun semester--I love the content area of all the classes I'm teaching. Here's to the students being just as thrilled.

STK started teaching a couple weeks back and reports her new position is a "piece of cake" compared to her old position in Colorado. She said she almost feels "guilty for getting paid for this. It's so easy. Instead of spending half my time dealing with discipline problems, I actually get to teach." What a concept. The price she pays for the "easy" teaching assignment (have no doubt there will be difficult moments) is a 5:30 AM wake up call. Check that. The price we all pay for her job is a 5:30 AM wake up call. Technically, TLO and I could sleep until 7 AM or later, but once someone is active, he usually follows suit shortly. So, I've been getting up between 6:15 and 6:30 every. damn. day. Have I ever expressed how much I despise mornings? Everyone on the planet should sleep from 3-9 AM. That would make me a happy boy.

In light of teaching going into full swing, TLO now spends a few hours a day in daycare. He absolutely loves it! We have a social child on our hands, folks. The daycare staff report that he's there easiest, and favorite, child. I bet they say that to all the parents.

Running has come to a full stop. The ankle injury I mentioned a few weeks back--I'm certain it's posttibial tendonitis--refused to get any better on drastically reduced miles (I dropped my runs to three miles). During my last attempt at running, I sprained the same ankle with the tendonitis. w00t! I haven't strapped on the running shoes in almost two weeks and I think I'm almost ready to hop back on the local trails. Sunday looks like the day to resume running. If all goes well, I'm hoping to run a 10K at the end of September. I'll probably have to push the training schedule a little to get back into good shape in time for the race, but the outdoor running will soon be over in this part of the world. Would you believe the trees are starting to change?

"Freeing oneself from words is liberation"

I've been thinking more about the "Freeing oneself from words is liberation" aspect of the quote in my previous post and I've changed my position. If I'm interpretating the phrase correctly, I absolutely agree with the statement. Words and their related meaning are largely abritrary. In fact, the words we use and the meanings attributed to those words are wholely abritrary. There's nothing about the symbols I'm using to write this post that suggests inherent meaning. Instead, we've developed a set of symbols that we use to communicate with one another. Go to another part of the world and you'll find another set of symbols associated with objects/ideas/etc. Basic semiotic theory at its finest.

What I think the quote in question suggests is the impermanent and illusory nature of words. Our interactions with words, both written and spoken, are fleeting. We have a conversation with a friend and minutes later we can only recall a fraction of what we said. Our interaction drifts away into nothingness. We might remember a spoken word, a glance received, or an intense emotion, but we rarely remember the entirety of an exchange. Derrida would refer to this is a "trace", I think. I bet most of us don't remember the vast majority of our interactions. In that sense, words drift away into the ether. Words are impermanent. Trying to reflect and recapture the exact content of those interactions, I think, is a largely futile maneuver. Freeing oneself from attempts to remember/recall in such a way is form of liberation. Being in the moment of the conversation is important; looking back on that conversation probably doesn't serve much of a purpose. In fact, looking backward pulls us out of the present moment. Staying in the present moment, free from the ghosts of words past, is liberation.

Words are also illusory. The words I hear and speak throughout my everyday interactions create a particular "reality" within my own mind. Created/filtered by my own mind, I come to a subjective understanding of every part of my life and environment. Despite the fact that we use the same words, we each develop unique perspectives, perspective which profoundly influence the way we live our respective lives. In that sense, words are largely illusory; we author the fictions we live. Realizing the fluid, subjective, and ephemeral nature of words is liberation.

Of course, the fact I'm using words to try and communicate my ideas means I'm engaged in the practice of casting my own illusion. I can live with that, though. I like the view from in here.

Not Thinking

Not thinking about anything is zen. Once you know this, walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, everything you do is zen. To know that the mind is empty is to see the Buddha...Using the mind to look for reality is delusion. Not using the mind to look for reality is awareness. Freeing oneself from words is liberation.

-Bodhidharma

I'm not sure I agree with the "Freeing oneself from words is liberation" part of this quote. Certain words, maybe? I'll have to give it some more thought.

We're off this morning to listen to one of my colleagues speak on the subject, "What is Enlightenment." By noon, I should have all of life's answers!

"You sure look like Miss B"

STK received a sad email tonight. One of her favorite students, and mine, was recently killed in a car accident. Josh was a unique child, a dwarf, who suffered from several neurological disorders and learning disabilities. Despite the hurdles he faced, Josh was one of the most likeable children I've ever met. His most endearing quality had to be his unintentional humor; STK came home at least once a week with a wonderful Josh story. Here are a couple of my favorites.

--
After we got married, STK announced to her class that she had changed her last name from B to STK. A half hour after the announcement, Josh looked STK in the eyes and said, "Miss STK, you sure look like Miss B."
--
One day, Josh made fart noises on his arm for eight hours straight. He drove everyone in the school absolutely crazy.
--
Not knowing Josh needed continuous supervision, the PE teacher let him go to the bathroom by himself. The paraprofessional raced to the bathroom and found Josh, stark naked, standing on the seat of the toilet peeing into the bowl.
--
Josh snuck away from his teacher virtually every day just to run into STK's room and say, "What's that smell Mrs STK?" STK always had some kind of air scent thingy to make her room smell less like stinky, unbathed elementary schoolers.
--
Josh once showed STK his new underwear--yes, he dropped trou. Here's how it went.
Josh: Guess what, Mrs. STK?
STK: What?
Josh: I got new underwear.
STK: Really?
Josh: You wanna see 'em?
STK: No, that's allright.
Josh: [pulls down pants anyway & reveals Spider-man underwear] Do you wear underwear?
STK: Yes.
Josh: Can I see 'em?
STK: No.
Josh: [hears his teacher hollering for him down the hall and he bolts out of the art room]
--
If Josh's class had art at the end of the day, STK had to keep the blinds closed. If he saw the school buses sitting out front, he would stare out the window and ask, "Is it time to go? Is it time to go? Is it time to go?"
--
Yes, Josh, it's time to go. You will be missed, my friend.

Keep on Feasting

Friday's Feast, August 18, 2006

Appetizer--What color is your car?
One car is black, the other is green.

Soup--If you could wake up tomorrow with full training in another occupation and a job in that field, what would it be?
A librarian. I'd love working around all those books.

Salad--How many times in your life have you had the flu (or something similar)?
Hmmmm . . . what constitutes the flu? Are we talking a 24 hour stomach flu (dozen?) thing or the hangs on for days achy flu (once)?

Main Course--What is something that has happened to you this week that you didn't expect?
Battled a cold.

Dessert--How old were you when you had your first kiss?
12? 13? Would you believe I don't remember exactly when I had my first kiss? Pretty memorable occasion, eh?

Pandering to the Fans

I received a University update from my BA & MA alma mater earlier today. You know, the type of newsletter that goes into major grants secured, professors honored, alumni activities, and, of course, the sports program update. The lead piece in the sports update section read like this:

Head football coach Sonny Lubick told an assembled group of media members he likes what he has seen from his team in preseason workouts. "In these early practices, you can get an idea what type of football team we have," said Lubick. "I like what I see. There is a nice chemistry."

Just once, I'd love to see a coach say something like: "In these early practices, you can get an idea what type of football team we have. Holy shit did I screw up somewhere along the line. These guys suck. Big time. We have absolutely no chemistry and I'm worried we won't win a single game. ::takes hat off and rubs head:: Fuck! Truth be told, I think my job might be on the line by the end of the season."

Now that would be newsworthy.

PC Feedback

My home computer is desperately out-of-date. I'm still running an AMD 2500 Barton Core, 60 MB HD, 64 MB video card, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, the old machine still does word processing just fine, but it's getting slower, and slower, and slower, as the months go by. So, I'm in the market for a new PC before the present system crashes and burns. I'm not looking for anything top-of-the-line (I can't justify spending that kind of money), but I am looking for something that will last a couple years. I considered building a rig myself, but with Ready to Ship PCs being so affordable I'm not sure it's worth the hassle/headache. I stumbled across the following computer early this morning while browsing the HP/Compaq site (I get an academic discount for being a higher educator):

Persario SR1950NX

The basic components of the system are reasonable and the two glaring flaws--integrated video card and lackluster power supply--can both be easily upgraded over the course of a few months. Better yet: I can get the system for $100 less than the Newegg price.

Thoughts? I know some people aren't fond of HP/Compaq as a company. I've owned a couple Compaqs over the years and haven't had a lick of trouble ::knocks on wood::

Saddam Meets Star Trek

One of the things Green Knight learned on the Internet(s):

Saddam Hussein not only had WMDs; he also had a Star Trek transporter. He beamed his WMDs out of Iraq to Syria without anybody noticing. Since then the WMDs have been beamed from Syria to Iran (right through Iraq, which lies in between Syria and Iran) without anybody noticing.

I want a transporter, dammit! I promise not to move any WMDs. I just want to beam back and forth between Denver to get Kaladi coffee and cranberry bagels.

Disconnect

On Sunday, I gave a talk to our local UU group about the importance of fusing spiritual principles and communication practices. In essence, I suggested we need a shift in our cultural thinking, a shift that moves us away from aggressive, combative exchanges that we call "debate" to a more civil, life-affirming style of dialogue. Part of my talk centered on the idea of creating communicative space for differing opinions, for allowing people to have ideas contrary to our own. An essential component of this idea is that we can have differing opinions and nobody is wrong; we might see the world differently, but our prespective is the right one for us. This isn't anything all that original--numerous scholars within communication studies outline different approaches that move us toward a world in which conflict is more productive.

Anyway, immediately following my talk (which went very well), numerous people came up and thanked me for offering some thought-provoking ideas and suggested I need to talk with our lay leader about speaking again in the near future (which I'd love to do). One individual, however, walked up to me and said, "I take issue with much of what you said." And I responded, "That's okay. The world's large enough for many different views and, as I hope I made clear during my talk, my suggestions are just that: suggestions." As the conversation progressed she made it very clear that there wasn't room in our world for multiple views. In fact, she made of point of letting me know I was "wrong" on several points. Given my profession, I'm generally okay with people criticizing my work and engaging in a healthy discussion about weaknesses/strengths of my positions. What was particularly irksome about this instance was the fact that a number of the congregation were waiting to talk to me and this woman insisted on monopolizing all my time. Despite repeated attempts to put the interaction on hold--"I'd love to talk about this further over a cup of coffee or something"--she. just. wouldn't. quit.

It amazes me how people can sit through a talk about creating space for multiple perspectives and then turn around do the exact opposite. Seriously, this audience member listened to my talk for one simple reason: to discover flaws and prepare counter arguments. It's a church setting. Relax a little, eh?

Without Seeing, Speaking, Knowing

Only the man without desire
Sees without seeing,
Speaks without speaking,
Knows without knowing.

-Ashtavakra Gita 18:90

Feast

The Feast!

Appetizer--Name an actor or actress you think is totally underappreciated.
I'll offer a few, actually.
Actor: Tony Shalhoub. His portrayal of quirky characters is top notch. I also think the collected work of Rutger Hauer has been overlooked.
Actress: Natalie Portman. Yeah, she sucked in the SW prequels. The magnificent directing of George Lucas sucked the life right out of her. Still, she was most excellent in The Professional, Closer, and Garden State. The Charlies' Angels flicks aside, I think Drew Barrymore is grossly underappreciated. How could you not love her work the Wedding Singer and Never Been Kissed?

Soup--Impress us by using a big word in a sentence.
A good start to examining the field of rhetorical studies would be to trace the body of literature positioning rhetoric as epistemic, hermeneutic, and/or performative.

Salad--What is something inanimate that you've given a name to (such as a pet rock)?
Old car: The Cucumber Wagon
Condo: The Albatross

Main Course--What color would best represent your personality and why?
On many days, I'm a green. Green is very life affirming and supportive; I'd like to think I embody those ideas. On other days, I'm definitely more of a black. There's a nasty side to me that sneaks out now and again.

Dessert--Fill in the blanks: ____________ is so ____________.
As I've said before, the new Gap commercial is so damn cool.

Popculturemania

As long as I'm on a pop culture kick . . .

From the WTF Department: Shower Shock Soap!

Added to my toy Wish List: diecast Battlestar Galactica and Viper Mark II.

Can't wait to read Straight edge: Clean-living youth, hardcore punk, and social change by Ross Haenfler. I knew Ross during graduate school and even guest lectured in his spectacular subcultures class.

If you're not watching Who Wants to be a Superhero you should be. Hysterical stuff. Tonight, our heroes had to race through a yard guarded by trained attack dogs. Yes, they wore protective gear. Monkey Woman took almost 10 minutes to reach the final objective, the dogs biting, attacking, shaking her the entire time. Impressive.

The Cubs still suck. Wait til next year!

Do Ya

I am absolutely obsessed with the new Jean Scene commercial for TheGap.com jeans. The music, the dancing, the animation, the morphing clothes all work for me. I bet I've played this thing 25 times. In fact, I even went to the website to check out some of the styles for myself. Check out the ad and tell me it doesn't catch your attention.

Jean Scene

One of the things I really like is the clash/fusion between the old and the new. The 70s style animation + contemporary fashion trends = hip new look. I also like the message: use our product as a palette and create a look that's your own. It's an interesting example of how syntagmatic and paradigmatic meanings work simultaneously to create a new meaning. I'll spare everyone a dissertation on structuralism.

Gap also gets props for incorporating the rock-a-billy woman.

Coffee Geek

I saw this meme on a message board and couldn't pass it up.

1. Decaf or Caff?
Caffeinated, of course. Drinking decaf is like smoking without inhaling; what's the point?

2. How many cups a day?
12 cups. I have four in the morning, four in the early afternoon, and four between 9 PM and midnight. No, it doesn't keep me awake.

3. What do you put in your coffee?
A splash of half and half in the morning, a splash of soy creamer the rest of the day.

4. What do you like to eat with your coffee?
A good bagel with my morning coffee is a simple pleasure. The rest of the day, I don't eat anything with my coffee.

5. Do you drink it because you like the flavor or because you need the stimulant?
I LOVE the taste of coffee. The stimulant side effect, which really only lasts for about 20 minutes, is just icing on the cake.

6. What is your favorite brand/kind of coffee.
Kaladi Bros, without a doubt. I prefer the Trieste and Puravida blends, but the Sulawesi Toraja White Eagle is also divine. Dazbog has some good roasts, too, particularly the White Nights Espresso. Caribou Coffee is a distant third.