Missed Opportunities

One thing about me that has annoyed Mr. Scobie since we first met is my willingness to form an opinion about something before I have ever read or seen it. I made it through college by learning about many books in the following fashion:

1. Develop a theory about a book based on its cover, back cover, first chapter or overheard conversation in the "C" Shop.

Note: I also read whole books, but since the UofC is a Great Books school, many of those books were totally opaque and impossible (for me) to comprehend. Thus my opinion of the book or author is still based on this applied technique.

2. Confidently extol this theory to Mr. Scob (after the first week of college he was the only one who had the patience to endure my "theories").

3. Have "theory" eviscerated by listener, who cites the actual content of said book or movie as "evidence" that I am mistaken.

4. Revise "theory" based on new "evidence" and test on new listener.

5. Repeat 3 - 5.

By the time an exam rolled around, I'd have a firm grasp of the subject matter. The downside, of course, is that while I may now remark that something is "Aristotelean" or "Kantian" or "straight out of Kierkegaard", I'm in the right universe but I can't get more specific than that.

This tendency of mine is a time saver, money saver, and a shield to struggling with anything that might be intellectually or emotionally challenging. For example, in 1996, a bunch of kids wanted to see Crash, the creepy Cronenberg movie, which was basically a snuff movie. I refused to go see it on the basis that the movie would be sensational, violent and upsetting to me. B confronted me with the fact that I knew nothing more than what had been written in the NY Times about it. I said, "I don't need to see a movie to have an opinion about it." I have, to the annoyance of many, stood by that proposition (and likely will forever).

B saw the movie, hated it and has declined to confront me so directly about my cultural . . . prejudices? foresight? since that time.

Why am I going on about this? Because it turns out that instead of seeing this an annoying quirk of my personality, he should have recognized it as a money making opportunity! There is a new book out called How To Talk About Books You Haven't Read, which I DID NOT WRITE, to my consternation. (Here's a review)

Worse, I don't even have an opinion of this book yet.

My Heart Swells

I gotta get my brag on.

This morning at breakfast, Li told us this: "There are some kids at my school who used to live in England. There was a mean king who would not let them hold meetings, so they moved to Holland. Then they came here on The Mayflower. They are called Pilgrims." (My son did not verbally link to Wikipedia. I added that so that you can check the fuzzy details of your memory against what is ostensibly the history of the Pilgrims).

*sigh* He is so cute.

Other Things from Montgomery That I Miss

Whew! Our long national nightmare is over. T&A Lady is back in the saddle, tackling offensive Halloween costumes and offensive social movements, all in a day's work. Check it out!

I also remembered some other excellent things about Ms. Kirkpatrick last night. She wore a seersucker suit almost every day, even though she was in a wheelchair, and she and her husband were accomplished recorder players. Yeah, recorders, the plastic wind instrument you briefly learned in fourth grade. Only hers weren't plastic.

Goodbye, Ms. Kirkpatrick

For no discernible reason, I wandered over to the Montgomery Advertiser just now, and it made my wonder about an old friend. Literally, an old friend and probably Liam's oldest. By sad coincidence, it turns out that Margaret Blake Kirkpatrick died on October 22. She was 94 years old. Ms. Kirkpatrick, or Mahh-gret, as I thought of her, was our neighbor in Montgomery. She was one of the best people I ever met. She was crazy about Li, and would always say, "Ewwwww, let me squeeze that beautiful little baby boy. I do love little boys, you know. I had two of my own. I always wished I'd had a little girl, too." She was funny, smart, talkative, an active reader, an integrationist, anti-homophobic ("I joined the Episcopalian Church for their toleration. Why would we exclude homasexuals?") and very supportive. "You still nursin' that little baby? Good for you!"

Once, she was taking a class at ASU, an all-black college, and some Klan members who had learned she was there, pulled the fire alarm and then ambushed her and a black student. Photos of her running out of the school were published in the newspaper, along with the "news" of her "race mixing", in an effort to embarrass her. It didn't work. When a racist neighbor of hers learned that she was helping a young black woman to get a teaching degree, he and some other men from some White "Christian" group sprayed water from high powered hoses into her windows while the young woman was visiting. Her home was vandalized repeatedly. Margaret's response to all this was, and this is just how they treat the white people. She knew that her views exposed her to very little danger compared to the dangers faced by Blacks who were fighting to end segregation and racism in Alabama.

We were crazy about her. It's silly that her passing made me cry, because she had lived such a full life. We last saw her in October 2005, when we went down to Montgomery for something else. She had moved into a nursing home, and missed being able to email (her computer had been stolen by someone else's guest) but was reading voraciously. She gave L an American flag she had, because, she said, she wasn't feeling particularly like she wanted it, what with things being the way they were. I have missed her since we moved, and will miss her more knowing that she's gone.

Here's her obituary:

Margaret Blake Kirkpatrick Departed this life October 22nd in Montgomery, Alabama. She loved friends and family, lifelong learning, educating the young, playing music and enjoying humor. She adored a good joke -even a clean one if it was smart. Born June 15, 1913 in Randolph County, Alabama, the youngest of three daughters, to Judge Stell Blake and Exa Sticklen Blake. At a young age, her parents fell on hard times, forcing Margaret and her mother to live with her sister Martha and brother-in-law Charles ''Doc'' Thigpen in Tuscumbia, Alabama. Margaret made many friends in North Alabama, becoming especially close to her niece Martha Thigpen McLemore and cousin (Senator) Howell Heflin. She received her Teacher's Certificate from Florence State Teachers College in 1933 and took her first job in Jones, Alabama. Married to Robert F Kirkpatrick in 1934, she and Kirk lived thereafter in Montgomery, and raised two sons, Robert F. Kirkpatrick, Jr. and John B. Kirkpatrick. Back to school in 1952, she earned her Bachelor's with a double major in English and Education in 1955 from Huntingdon College, followed by her Masters in Education from Auburn University in 1958. She taught fourth and fifth grade at Bear School, retiring in 1976. Never one to give up learning, she studied Jungian analysis in Switzerland, became Mentor for the Education for Ministry program at Church of the Ascension, and began the adult education program at Huntingdon College. For the latter she was awarded an Honorary Doctorate by Huntingdon in 2001.

Oh, And

I managed to write something over at The Union Lawyer today, in case you are catatonically bored and in need of some digression.

Catholic humor

I guess it shouldn't come as any surprise that it exists. What else is Benny Hill if not Catholic humor? Or at least little c catholic. Anyway, enjoy:



Thanks to the good deacon of Our Lady of Guadalupe for this.

A couple of observations

There is a 1:1 ratio between people who forward urban legend emails and people who do not know how to delete headers. Or the sender realizes that they are being suckers for a dumb story and want to share the blame.

Novelty t-shirts do not, standing alone, constitute Halloween costumes. Sorry, chubby dude in the Vote For Pedro t.

Umm, What?

I am not, by nature, an apocalyptic soul. That lil' tremble we just had? Ain't no thang. I am okay with it. How about that suicide on the BART tracks that delayed Mr. Scobie from making it home from dinner? Well, tragic, but not the end times. But Naomi Campbell pilgrimaging to Hugo Chavez? If that isn't the end of the world, well then, Chavez needs better celebrity friends. If Naomi Campbell and Kevin Spacey visited me, I would assume that I had been Left Behind, and that my only chance for redemption was to battle it out with those demon spawn.

Sheesh. What a day.

L's reaction to the earthquake: "I need to KILL the tectonic plates." His proposed solution involves some kind of Lego drill that launches the tectonic plates into space. It's better than my solution, which was to get under the dining room table and ask B to go look at Q, as if looking at him were a sufficient prophylactic to The Big One.

A Man of Action

Q is quite thrilled with his Halloween costume.

This picture hurts my eyes, with all the bursts of color in that room. Doesn't he look exactly like the little football player behind him?

Ya Got No Creep To Ya

- Kima Greggs, episode 2, season 1.

Yeah, that's right. The Wire is back, On Demand. It does not matter that we have it on DVD. I watched two episodes tonight making Liam's Halloween costume. Which costume does NOT include the following:

Heh heh.

And then finally, have you wondered what you might hate more than Blackwater USA, the mercenary contractor responsible for untold numbers of Iraqi civilians deaths and Godknowshowmany propped-up dictatorships? And how about those irritating sound effects in NPR stories? You know, the laughing children on the playground, the birds chirping, and then you have to change the station before you lose your mind? Do you hate that more, or less, than military contractors in Iraq? Well, I briefly got an answer to that question the other day when I heard a story about protests at Blackwater's training center outside of San Diego. The owner of Blackwater came out to address the protesters, but was quickly shouted down. He got back into his vehicle, and the tape catches a protester angrily yelling, "Oh, you drive a HUMMER?? What about the environment? You gas guzzler!!"

Like the owner of Blackwater gives a shit. Like he should be driving a Prius.

And for a brief moment, I felt . . . I don't know what. Sorry for how lame the protesters are. Sorry that I have to listen to NPR's pitiful filler-in-lieu-of-news every day. Sorry that the best argument that can be summoned to yell at the owner of Blackwater, just hours after 17 Iraqi citizens were killed, is that he's a gas guzzler.

Down with the Baby Boomers

I got an email from the Social Security Administration today. It was a press release trumpeting the fact that the "first baby boomer", Kathy Casey-Kirschling, applied for her Social Security benefits "online".

"Filing for Social Security benefits online is easy and convenient," said Kathy Casey-Kirschling, who turns 62 on January 1, 2008. "I urge my fellow Baby Boomers to give Social Security's online services a try. Save a trip and do business with Social Security from the comfort of your home or office."

I did not realize that Baby Boomers had been given free access to the SSA email database to communicate with one another, and frankly, I don't think its a good use of our tax dollars. I also think that KCK should hold off on applying for benefits for a few more years. Hasn't she heard that the whole system is going down the toilet?!? No matter WHAT Paul Krugman says?? And that you can get a lot more money if you wait until you are actually old to apply? I am not going to school her.

A different topic: Yesterday and today I watched The Revolution Will Not Be Televised (video here), about the coup attempted against Hugo Chavez. It's edge-of-the-seat good: two Irish filmmakers happened to be present (literally in the Presidential Palace) during the April 2002 coup attempt. They were there when the coup happened and they were there when it fell. It's really compelling to watch, and raises a few interesting issues. The private media in Venezuela were complicit in the coup, refusing to broadcast honest information about Chavez's whereabouts, and the massive demonstrations against the coup, among other things. They explicitly participated in the coup planning, which they explained in a celebratory post-coup news interview. By reference to contemporaneous U.S. news reports, you realize that the American media buys the Bush administration view of Chavez uncritically, and that its "neo-liberal" perspective is almost as bad as the private media in Venezuela.

The problem that detracts from this well-done expose is the filmmakers' assertion that the CIA and the Bush administration are behind the coup. While I don't doubt it - the U.S. can't not meddle in South and Central American politics - the filmmakers have no evidence at all that this happened. Here's the information they allege supports this conclusion: Pedro Carmona and Carlos Ortega, leaders of the opposition to Chavez, may have gone to the White House the year before; an airplane with U.S. registration may have been sent to take Chavez out of Venezuela when his government was restored. And I say "may" because Chavez didn't report that happening. The viewer learns it from some random person in the movie relating it as a rumor. So the movie is great, unfiltered news, it isn't hard journalism.

Another interesting problem the movie raises: Chavez was clearly thoughtful, passionate, articulate about both socialism and democracy in 2002, scaring the shit out of the upper class. He's done a lot of good things, and much of the things he is blamed for doing in the American media are not entirely true. For example, there is supposedly a constitutional basis for him refusing to renew the license of the TV station that participated in the coup against him, and they kept broadcasting on cable. Not exactly grossly offensive censorship, particularly since the FCC here is giving the green light to complete media monopolies. But I got into an argument with a guy I work with who is very pro-Chavez on the question about Chavez extending his term limits for 14 more years. (Supposedly he's just extending them until 2021, not indefinitely). He said that this extension was the will of the people. My view was, there is no exception to the rule that power corrupts, and that if Chavez does not have underlings (Vice President, cabinet members) capable of sustaining the programs he has created, then they don't have a democracy. And while I am ranting, I think socialism without democracy is, at best, paternalism, and at worst, dictatorship. I won't say fascism because I think JFB and I once may have argued about THAT word (or was it totalitarianism?).

The final analysis is: I wish I knew more about Hugo Chavez, and about nearly everything else in the world. When I learn new things - like about this coup - it makes me feel so dumb and naive. I feel like I know almost nothing when I learn anything at all.

Day Waster

It's only 10 a.m. and I can already tell that the day is shot. Concerned as I am about TK's musical dry spell, I followed one of his commenter's recommendations over to Pandora. And like that, the day is gone. Over. Nothing will get done today, while I surf through and rate new music. Proceed at your own risk.

Other things I like: Mr. Scobie and I got the hell out of Dodge this weekend and languished in Bodega Bay, reading, eating and watching Red Sox games. I read Cannery Row. Great. After this, and my little Jane Austen binge a few months back, I realize that what we were supposed to be reading in high school really is the best stuff ever written. What should I read next?

On Language

If you think SCOTUS sounds dirty, how about POTUS and FLOTUS? Don't they sound like caricatures of twin Southern buffoons? I guess in a sense they are.

And since I've been on the topic of words, M just put me on to Websters on-line dictionary. It's pretty amazing. It goes way beyond a typical dictionary. For example, transmutation (M accedes to using it for the meaning "change one substance into another): This on-line dictionary includes a multilingual translation and includes alternative orthographies, including how the word is spelled in semaphore, dancing man, Braille, American Sign Language, British Sign Language, HTML and Hexadecimal. Whatever that is.

You will notice the fatal flaw of this gem from the very start: the Pig Latin translation is incorrect. I sent this note to the editor:

Your Pig Latin translations are incorrect, I think. I understood pig latin to take the first consonant of each syllable, move it to the end, and add –ay. Or:

Ouryay igpay atlayinay anstrayalayionshays are-ay inayorrayectay, Iay inkthay.

Sorry to be nerdy but it popped right out at me.

Falling on My Sword - Sort Of

At least 14 years ago, possibly more, I had an argument with the author of Executive Orc House about either the word “holocaust” or the word “apartheid”. I can’t remember which word it was but the word had been used in a Vanity Fair article to apply either to the conditions under which Muslim women live or the conditions under which Palestinians live in Israel. JFB’s position was that those words have specific meaning relating, respectively, to the conditions under which Jews suffered at the hands of the Nazis and to the conditions under blacks suffered at the hands of whites in South Africa, and that they could not be bandied about to apply to just any situation of oppressiveness. I said words of that power SHOULD be applied to other occasions of oppression to import their meaning and give gravitas to newer situations of oppression.

In the past 14 years, “we” (not JFB and I, but culture generally) have struggled with how to name oppressive regimes, but generally holocaust and apartheid have stayed off limits, per J. “Genocide” is used now.

A back-and-forth with another reader about the word “transubstantiation” (from the last post) reminded me of this discussion. Here’s why. I have always understood transubstantiation to have only one meaning: the theological meaning. That bread and wine literally become the body and blood of Christ. You can mock it as concept, but I never thought the word had any other meaning. It turns out it also means “changing one substance to another.” Who knew? So then why this flash back to 1994, sitting in the lobby of the Shoreland, waiting for the campus bus, getting heated and pissy about a Vanity Fair article? Because I thought, “Some words have only one meaning, even if they in fact have other meanings. G--D--- it.” Doh. I thought JFB deserved an apology after all these years. Its just as easy to say “change one substance to another” as it is to say “transubstantiation”, if that is all you mean. The T word seems reserved for its ecclesiastical meaning, not its alchemical meaning. Big ups, JB.

Also I agree that hardcore is tough to take now that we are old. Ska doesn’t hold up too well, either, sad to say (but you probably aren’t sad to hear).

Nino, Dios Mio, and Opus Dei

I cut my teeth on the Supreme Court nomination of John Roberts when I was a wee blogger, so it gives me some pleasure to return to my roots. I just finished reading The Nine: Inside the Secret World of the Supreme Court by Jeffrey Toobin. I highly recommend it, even to non-lawyers. Although there are gaping holes in Toobin's coverage (he seems to have missed Roberts enthusiasm for dancing), he manages to bring up Lil Jack's performance at the nomination press conference. But I didn't mention The Nine just so I can talk about Jack Roberts again.

I won't bother you with the "salacious" details (there aren't any, unless you are a SCOTUS nerd). Toobin does make a few interesting observations about conservatives that caused me to reflect on that species. Toobin notes that there are now five Catholics on the Court. He mentions it in the context of the idea that there is no longer a category of individuals who cannot get on the Court (Women, Jews, Blacks, Catholics - no reason to believe that a Hispanic couldn't get on board). But what interested me more was the fact that some of these Catholics are absolutely beloved by conservative, evangelical Christians. Scalia, Alito, Roberts, and Thomas are Catholic. Kennedy is Catholic too, but since he's proven to be such a disappointment to conservatives, with his Lawrence v. Texas and his foreign law "proclivities", he doesn't really help my point.

And that point is, the Catholic Church I grew up in neither loved, nor was beloved by, evangelical Christians. Recall my years at PTL. Although we were Catholic, people (okay, kids) I met there were pretty unabashed in their accusations that Catholics worshipped false idols (the saints), and engaged in Mariolatry, both of which were akin to paganism. Transubstantiation did not go over well either. "You mean, you actually think that you EAT Jesus? And drink his BLOOD?? That's so stupid!" My mother was, at times, involved in Pentacostal Catholic prayer groups, but I don't recall a particular political fervor, even around abortion. My Mom was, in fact, more of a social justice/Catholic Worker-type Catholic, and consequently so was/am I.

I know that the personal is not actually political, and that I cannot generalize from my childhood interactions with evangelical Christian children in 1985 to questions about the Supreme Court's realization as a conservative outpost in the federal government. But I am curious how a nearly rabid right-wing got into bed with Catholics, particularly in light of Toobin's other information, which is that the conservative movement's vetting of Supreme Court nominees is as awful and dark as the self-criticism exercises of Communist cells, or the Stasi. Nearly anything can brand someone as "not conservative enough". For example, Harriet Miers and Dick Cheney were skeptical of John Roberts! They thought he might not be conservative enough. And then conservatives turned on Miers like wolves. The fact that she had made explicit references to opposing Roe v. Wade during her political career in Dallas did nothing to assuage conservative fears that she was "squishy". Alito and Roberts, meanwhile, refused to address Roe v. Wade during their confirmation hearings. These two are the golden boys of the conservative revolution, the fruition of Federalist Society longings for 25 years.

Sorry

I have been feeling heat from some corners about my lack of blogging. Apologies. I had a hilarious (to me) entry about Marcel Marceau, but *someone* (who can stand behind my chair when I am blogging at home) thought it was "in poor taste". So, I tabled it, and now its stale.

Anyway, I have been way too busy to think of anything funny to say. My sister's wedding, lots of travel, and lots of work have kept me observation-free (other than, "geez, what's all this traffic?" and "SNOT? On my new blouse?? SHIT!") and basically humorless (not the wedding - it was a laugh riot).

I will try to repent, write some hilarious and poignant bon mots. Failing that, you will get your tasteless, late, off-brand Marcel Marceau post.

It's That Time of Year Again

With all the work I have, and the excitement and planning for the Impending Nuptials, I ALMOST forgot: tomorrow is International Take Like A Pirate Day! Gosh, it just comes so close to equinox and Rosh Hashanah, it can really slip right past you.

In case you find yourself without a pirate name, you can find it here. I am Joan Thieving Arse, which is cool. Me pirate's vessel is The Madness of The Manta. Me favorite poet is ARRRchibald McLeish. Me favorite disease is SARRRS. I like MARRRRshmellows. Me sister is an ARRRchitect.

Okay, you get the picture. Assume your eye patches.

In Case You Missed This

The 2007 Air Guitar World Championship is over. Can there really be a "winner" of such a thing?

I think the guy in the overalls there looks a bit like a neighbor of mine. Not that I have seen him play air guitar, but he reads this blog, so he can expect to be called upon to perform a little Yngwie Malmsteen next time I see him.

This Is It?

So that's it then? Freeze a pitbull and call it Chupacabra? I don't know, I expected it to be scarier. More Satan than Spuds McKenzie.

Like many from Mexico, this chupacabra was found in Texas. (Is that offensive?)

I am suspending my normal "meh" attitude towards Dave Matthews because this is a pretty good song, but more importantly because Zoe choreographed the video and dances in it.

Cool!

And lest you think my sister and I are the dullards of the family, think again. Lorin is the project manager on the retro-fit and re-design of Casa Zimbabwe, a housing collective at Berkeley. Thus her irritation at not being permitted to install nuclear exit signs. I can't find any pictures of the C.Z. architectural changes, but you can see from the outside that they are probably very dramatic, since this is what they are working from.

Perhaps Lorin will share some photos with us so I can sing her praises as well.