Where's dilliwag?

Writing and reading! Despite the fact that school technically ended on May 23 (that was the final faculty meeting), I've been pulling together an extended abstract for a conference I'd like to attend. The interdisciplinary conference examines the impact of Barack Obama's entry into the political realm. The proposal I'm submitting uses Obama's campaign oratory to support my contention that rhetoric is, quite literally, a magical endeavor. I've been giving the five page document the final edit this evening; it goes out in tomorrow's mail.

I'm such a dreadfully slow writer, and increasingly disorganized, that I usually can't generate more than one original page a day. Of course, I only have about a two hour window each day to get any real writing done. If I could go back to the days of staying up until 5 AM, I'd probably be far more productive. Having a three year old who wakes up between 6-7 AM kind of puts a kibosh on that kind of writing behavior. So, after dropping TLO off at daycare around 11:30, I head back home, take the dogs for a walk, make some lunch, and adjourn to the computer to eat and write. The first half hour of the writing process is typically a review/rework/edit of my last completed section. Once that ritual is complete, I can spend a couple hours generating new material. And that's about all the time I have to write. If I'm feeling scholarly, I can usually eek out another hour after STK and TLO retire for the evening. That's when I go back, reread my latest work, decide it really isn't all that great, and rewrite the entire section.

Does anyone else agonize to this extent about writing? I enjoy the process, believe it or not, and manage to put out decent work at the end of the day. I've come to the understanding that I'll probably never be a ground breaking rhetorical rock star scholar, but I think I can make some interesting and enlightening contributions to the field. Most days I'm okay with that.

Next week, instead of writing, I'll be attending a seminar on representations of Islam. Should be interesting. I hope to incorporate some of what I learn into my upcoming popular culture class.

Ndors

Obama and Clinton finally manage to discuss the end of the primary campaign . . . via text messaging.

BHO: hey
HRC: sup
BHO: pwnd jo
HRC: meh
BHO: j/k LOL
HRC: ur teh suck
BHO: WTF?
HRC: sry, Ill Ndors u
BHO: k
HRC: k
BHO: well... l8rs
HRC: cya

Wish I could take credit for this but all credit is due a poster named mikeguyver at dailykos (see my links).

Crescent

Love this photo.

[UPDATE] Original photo can be accessed here.

Quack

The main stream media mystery of the night that's not really a mystery: Why did the white, non-college educated, voters of West Virginia break overwhelmingly for Clinton? Is Obama out of touch with middle-class, blue collar workers? Is he too elite? Why is nobody talking about the obvious answer: Obama is black. Is it really a big secret that racism is practiced much more openly in Appalachia and the South? Last weekend, I had the great fortune of sitting down with an Obama campaign worker who ran one of the Indiana offices. When I asked why he was headed to campaign in South Dakota and not West Virginia he said, "Why do you think?" My answer: "Predominantly white Southern state?" Bingo. He then regaled us with tales of being greeted in southern Indiana with the N word, bomb threats, and other assorted race based incidents. Oh, and a burning cross. Beautiful. The Obama campaign internals pegged West Virginia as a slaughter from the outset (same with Kentucky, by the way) and decided not to waste resources.

Some of the pundits just won't shut up about this false "White people won't vote for Obama" theme. Just off the top of my head, Obama won Iowa, Nebraska, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Washington, Colorado, and Wyoming (and he'll win Oregon and possibly South Dakota and Montana). Barack Obama does not have a problem with white working class voters. His problem with Southern/Appalachian white working class voters has less to do with his policy positions and more with his skin color. When one of the guest pundits offers this position, she or he gets hammered by other guests or the host.

Why look for a complicated answer when the simple one is looking everyone in the face? If it looks like a duck, waddles like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it's probably a duck.

Wall of Weird

Skull Bong. Proof that you can find almost anything on the internets. Back in the partying days, almost 15 years ago, I could have used this kind of instruction. Actually, I never really got into the drug thing. I will say, though, I probably could have been talked into trying to unearth a skull . . . after a few adult beverages.

13 Skulls. Indiana Jones struggles to solve a modern day mystery. Did stories about these crystal skulls freak anyone out as a kid? I always thought they looked kind of creepy.

Flaming Skull. A possible sequel to Ghost Rider? The first one was entertaining, but not really a "good" movie. Why on earth go for a 2nd film? I can't imagine a sequel would be much better than the original.

Almost a Super Genius

Why couldn't this study have come out prior to March 1968? I was a bottle fed baby every step of the way. I would have been a bona fide genius, rather than borderline, had my mother fed me au naturale. Thanks, Mom.

Do or Do Not

Wishful Thinking

I just stumbled across C-SPAN's coverage of Barack Obama's last major Pennsylvania rally. There's something special about this guy. He really does represent change, something we desperately need in this country. What we do not need is a Democratic candidate who runs Republican ads. Osama bin Laden as part of a Democratic fear appeal? Are you kidding me? Disgusting. My ardent dislike for this Republican in sheep's clothing--since when do Democrats threaten countries with nuclear annihilation?--has evolved into an all consuming loathing. I'd rather eat a bowl of crushed glass than vote for her.

Despite the various polls regarding the Pennsylvania primary, polls that give Clinton a 6-7% lead, I'm going to go out on a limb and call for the upset: Obama 50.5 Clinton 49.5.

Sunday Edition

Ribbon Culture: Charity, Compassion, and Public Awareness. While written from a social research perspective, this looks to be an interesting exploration of rhetoric, identity, and public advocacy. Can't wait to get my hands on it and give it a read.

Speaking of Faith: Thich Nhat Hanh. Speaking of Faith is one of my favorite public radio programs. Unfortunately, it's buried at some obscure time on most NPR stations and, I suspect, most NPR listeners never get a chance to experience this excellent program. This morning's program featured a rebroadcast of a dialogue with Thich Nhat Hanh, the venerable Buddhist monk who has committed his entire life to promoting nonviolence. Please find the time to give this a listen. I believe Thich Nhat Hanh, more than any other person on this planet, has the answers for transforming a world of anger and violence to a world of compassion and peace. The wonderful thing about his message is that he firmly believes that Buddhism exists in harmony with all other religious belief systems. In other words, one doesn't have to be a Buddhist to practice his solutions.

Ever Feel Like You've Been Cheated? A fun, and informative, reflection on punk rock, protest, and performance. Don't miss Part II of the piece. Particularly interesting is the author's assertion that many of the now famous punk musicians had very little connection with the working class youth they supposedly championed. It's all about the performance, eh?

Spring Cleaning

Between Saturday and Sunday, I spent upwards of eight hours cleaning, straightening, organizing, and installing. Eight hours of my life that I'll never get back. Yes, the dirty deeds needed doing. Yes, the garage looks great. No, I don't feel much in the way of a sense of accomplishment. It needed doing and so it got done. After almost two years of living in our house, we finally sorted through boxes of baby clothes/toys, stray scraps from various home repair/improvement projects, and piles of miscellany. We reboxed, restacked, and reshelved. We carried boxes to the basement, lifted others into the rafters, and carted the unwanted to Goodwill. The result is pretty nifty looking garage.

The highlight of the day, however, had to be the installation of our new chandelier. After double checking my mad electrical skills with my father, I turned off the switch to the light, climbed the ladder, removed the rather hideous fixture we've complained about for years, and installed the new piece. Despite a couple of frustrating moments (this task rated a single FRAK! about halfway through--that's pretty low on the scale, actually), STK and I finished up in less than an hour. A special note to Alabama Hick: I didn't wear eye protection!

Here's a glimpse of our handy work.





During next weekend's Big Damn Home Improvement blog post I'll talk about seeding and fertilizing the yard, installing a new light fixture in the front entryway, and planning a bifold door project.

Thaw

It looks like we've finally turned the corner in terms of winter weather. The temperature is reaching the 50 degree mark on a regular basis, the piles of snow are almost melted, and the street sweepers are scouring the residual sand from the gutters. The forecast predicts we'll hit a stretch in the 60s by the end of the week. Time to pack away the long underwear. Woohoo! After a couple of mild winters by Midwest standards, this winter dragged on, and on, and on, and on. The Spring rains, and the predictable complaining about "too much rain," loom on the horizon. Another six to eight weeks, though, and we should be into a five month stretch of very livable weather.

My extended spring break came to an end earlier this week. With an academic conference commencing a couple days before the official start of break, I ended up with a 12 day break. Damn the bad luck. Actually, I'm ready to make the final push toward the end of the semester and get on with summer break. I did quite a bit of traveling this semester--I was gone every other weekend for an eight week stretch and I never really got my head into the teaching game. With several research projects rattling around in my noggin, it's a constant struggle to stay focused in almost any aspect of my life. What I really need is six months to do some serious reading and writing but we all know that's not going to happen. So, I'll keep plugging along late at night, on the weekends, and during my various breaks. Before I know it, a couple of the pieces will coalesce into something tangible.

League of Unextraordinary Gentlemen

In a policy address presented earlier today, John McCain remarked:

We have to strengthen our global alliances as the core of a new global compact -- a League of Democracies -- that can harness the vast influence of the more than one hundred democratic nations around the world to advance our values and defend our shared interests.

Woodrow Wilson is completely behind that idea. Go McCain!

Barack Star!

I never do anything anything halfway. I'm either totally in or totally out. Unfortunately, the same holds true for my support of political candidates (and that's probably why I've avoided getting sucked into mainstream politics the last few elections). Having thrown my full support behind Barack Obama, I spend a great deal of my time reading/watching any and all media reports about the Obama/Clinton contest. When Obama is doing well in the polls, I see a future filled with hope, change, and a return to the basic principles that make the US of A a country to be admired. When he goes through a rough stretch, I literally lose sleep worrying about a dismal future with McCain or Clinton at the helm.

Thankfully, I stumbled across an antidote for the times when the campaign ebbs rather than flows. I guarantee I'll place this several times a week, maybe even several times a day, over the next couple of weeks. This is my naproxen for political aches and pains.

Numerology

80,000+. A rough estimate regarding the number of civilian casualties in Iraq.

4000. The number of US casualties as of yesterday.

140. The number of Tibetan demonstrators killed by the Chinese government during the latest round of protests.

10. The number of questions presented to the Dalai Lama in 10 Questions for the Dalai Lama.

14. The 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet: Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.

Welcome to the Concrete Jungle

1) Approached by panhandlers at every opportunity. I remembered to put on the Leave Me the Frak Alone scowl and most panhandlers left me the frak alone. Most. One adventurous old guy, missing most of his teeth, got right up in my face with his little paper cup and asked for change. I laughed and gave him what change I had.

2) Received offer of oral sex from a women I can only describe as a hippie hooker. She didn't say a word but looked at me, nodded, and made an unmistakable gesture involving her hand and mouth.

3) Witnessed an alternacouple--a goth and punk--sitting quietly in a Japanese garden.

4) Gagged from the aromatic experience of riding the bus.

5) Asked, "Wanna score some weed?" seconds after entering a city park. I must give off an obvious addict/alcoholic vibe.

6) Ordered a "Heart of Darkness" dark roast coffee at an independent coffee house.

7) Heard three, maybe four, languages spoken while I waited to cross a street.

8) Paid $9 for a coffee and bottled water.

9) Noticed four Starbucks within less than a block of my current location.

10) Encountered more tattoos and piercings during a four hour excursion than I do in four months back at home.

I really miss living in the city.

It Was Forty Years Ago Today . . .

I turned 40 years old today. That doesn't seem possible, but it's the honest to goodness truth. Everyone keeps asking if I'm okay, if I'm depressed, if I feel like I'm middle aged. Honestly, I still don't feel like I'm a day over 26. My health is excellent, although I do mend a bit slower, and my mind is even excellenter (I find I can grasp far deeper philosophical/theoretical ideas than I could at 26). So, 40 years old an no major complaints. Can't beat that with a stick.

The day progressed like almost any other and that's the way I like it with birthdays. Birthdays just aren't that big a deal to me. I got TLO off to daycare, did some teaching, went for a 4 mile run, and came home to a birthday dinner. We feasted on Boca burgers, onion rings, french fries, and raw carrots dipped in wasabi mustard. *slurp* That is, without a doubt, my favorite meal. We finished off the birthday feast with a dark chocolate cake slathered in cream cheese frosting, vanilla ice cream, and cool whip.

STK's card was a winner, as usual. She always manages to find just the right quirky card for me. The cover of the card features a quote by Malcolm Crowley that reads: "They tell me you'll lose your mind when you grow older. What they don't tell you is that you won't miss it very much."

Inside the card is a personal note from STK: "Happy Birthday! Hopefully, you won't lose your mind. If you do, I got your back. Welcome to the 40s." Thank goodness for that. In all seriousness, the only reservation or fear I have about getting old is the possibility of losing my mental faculties. I realize I'll slow down physically, that I'll eventually die. Not a problem. Losing my mind, however, is a fate worse than death. In fact, I've asked STK to find some way to help me slip from this mortal coil if I ever lose the use of my mind. She does, indeed, have my back.

STk has informed me that I'm to purchase a new pair of black, steel-toe Doc Marten boots as a birthday gift. I've had my eye on a particular pair since last summer--my everyday Docs are completely thrashed--and it's time to take the plunge.

Is there anything more exciting than buying new boots?

Political Silly Season Continues

Sometime in the last day or so, someone circulated a picture of Barack Obama in traditional Somali dress. The Obama camp immediately wagged a finger at the Clinton campaign for underhanded tactics and the Clinton camp launched an attack at the Obama campaign for trying to manufacture a crisis. The Clinton camp stated:

If Barack Obama’s campaign wants to suggest that a photo of him wearing traditional Somali clothing is divisive, they should be ashamed. Hillary Clinton has worn the traditional clothing of countries she has visited and had those photos published widely. This is nothing more than an obvious and transparent attempt to distract from the serious issues confronting our country today and to attempt to create the very divisions they claim to decry. We will not be distracted.

Under normal circumstances, I'd agree with the Clinton campaign. The photo itself is rather innocuous and couldn't possibly be divisive, right? Wrong. In and of itself, the photograph is nothing unique. As the Clinton spokesperson pointed out, many politicians don traditional ethnic and cultural apparel as a sign of respect for the people they encounter. The current photograph of Obama, however, is circulating on the heels of the infamous Obama is a Radical Muslim! emails. Despite repeated refutations, people still continue to position Barack Obama as a Muslim. And while this shouldn't be a problem in a country that celebrates freedom of religion, the word "Muslim" still conjures the specter of terrorism. Taken in this light, the Clinton campaign's dismissal of the photo as not being a matter of significance is completely and utterly disingenuous. There are those who, when seeing Obama in this style of dress, will believe the Obama is a Muslim! myth. Given Clinton's attack oratory of the last few days--so much for the gracious Clinton seen at the debate--I'd be willing to bet my next donation to the Obama campaign that the photo did, indeed, originate from within the Clinton campaign.

For the record, Barack Obama is a Christian.

By the way, the latest SUSA poll--the most accurate pollster of this election cycle--has Obama with the lead in Texas, 49-45%. No wonder the Clinton campaign is resorting to fear mongering propaganda.

Higher What?

The University of Colorado Regents pick a Republican activist, an activist who doesn't have a graduate degree, as President of the university. Huh? How does someone with absolutely no advanced education relate to an institution where many of the employees, and clients, are required to have a graduate degree? Lest one thinks this is a regular practice in higher education: A 2005 survey by The Chronicle of Higher Education found that fewer than 1 percent of college presidents and chancellors held only a bachelor's degree. More than 83 percent held a doctorate. At my college, the President's qualifications and experience include a Ph.D., ten years of teaching experience as a faculty professor, and several years as a dean. This is a President, mind you, who has been the most successful fund raiser in the history of the college.

CU's choice, Benson, might not be able to relate to faculty or graduate students, but I bet he can raise money for the school! As far as I can tell, this seems to be the impetus for this decision. One more instance of the shift toward viewing higher education as a business rather than the pursuit of knowledge. Are colleges and universities supposed to be places of learning or diploma mills?

I also suspect the Ward Churchill scandal had something to do with this selection. When I visited my folks in Colorado last week, my dad commented on the fact that CU needed a good conservative to straighten out the liberal mess that is CSU. I believe his words were: "higher education doesn't need a bunch of liberal radicals running the show." ugh. So, as a result of the over exaggerated Ward Churchill scandal, we see a public institution making a decision based on political party (Benson is a Republican activist; all Republican regents voted for Benson while all Democratic regents voted against). Did CU wind up with the best candidate or the best Republican candidate?

Refreshed

I spent the last few days at the Western States Communication Association conference in Denver, my old stomping grounds. Over the last several years, I've become dismayed with academic conferences in my field, particularly NCA. NCA is expensive, swarming with people, and those in attendance either have huge egos or drink too much (or both). If you're not from a R1 institution, you don't amount to squat. Even though I don't care for NCA, I typically attend. It's a great way to connect with friends scattered hither and yon, check out the new wares of publishers, and spend some time in the big city. The last two years, however, the cost to my mental wellbeing hasn't been worth the price of admission. I return home, dejected that I'm not one of the academic cool kids and that my path through higher education isn't seen as valuable as others. Who wants to hang with the guy from the liberal arts college who publishes once every 18 months? I realize most of my consternation is in my own head but I'll be damned if I don't need therapy after getting back from the national conference.

Western States, a smaller regional conference, was an entirely different experience. I spent time with friends, attended a couple excellent panels, presented some of my recent writing, and had an excellent time. A longtime mentor validated my career path and life choices, several former colleagues from my ABD/adjunct days let me know how much my presence is missed, and numerous graduate students and soon-to-be graduating undergrads made a point to tell me that I'd inspired them to pursue graduate studies or become a Speech Communication major.* A friend and I commiserated, over a leisurely three hour dinner, about the challenges of parenting, teaching, and writing. It's nice to know I'm not the only parent who can't wait to drop my kid off at daycare and get to work. We even talked about collaborating on some work (nothing related to kids, thank you very much).

While I still need therapy--I suspect that will be the case throughout my adult life to a greater or lesser degree--I returned home from this conference rejuvenated and revitalized. I can't wait to work on some of the projects I discussed with colleagues.

*My BA/MA alma matter hosted the convention. I bathed in the comfortable glow of green and gold.

Yes We Can

If you're participating in a Democratic caucus or voting in a Democratic primary tomorrow, or in the coming weeks, please give Barack Obama some thought. We desperately need a change of the guard in Washington and I believe he represents the best chance for that change.

Can we replace confrontation with cooperation, animosity with accordance, and ennui with exuberance?

Yes. We. Can.