It's that time of year again. The days are shorter and nights are cooler. The Aspens are slowly turning golden and Aquarius is rising in the seventh house (well actually, it's rising in the south). Store aisles are filled with cheap waxy candies and carved pumpkins glow on windowsills. As October's end creeps ever closer like a mutant troll, we see more and more instances of scary things that go bump in the night (and whack in the day).
Very scary indeed. Weary citizens come home their favorite TV shows preempted, their answering machines filled with messages, and their mail boxes stuffed with frightening literature. Newspapers are speckled with slanderous ads and radio commentators debate important issues such as employment opportunities in slaughter houses, cow flatulence, bridges to nowhere, and the devastating economic impact incurred by increasing manufacturing costs of acne cream.
Yeah, you got it. Election day is almost here and politicians have chopped down that beautiful old tree in your front yard so that they can stump their speeches and fill your ears with promises of lower taxes, better education, national security, and more affordable acne cream. They are selling words of comfort and hope, but the price is high. Very high. They want your vote.
Something for something was the usual tactic to sway your decision. Vote for me and I'll set you free! A mule and twenty acres! Two cars in every garage and free instructions on how a gentleman should offer a lady a Tiparillo. But the lyrics of those songs have changed. No one is buying solutions anymore (and do they even still make Tiparillos?).
Instead, political pundits are now stocking the shelves with the hottest item on the market.
Fear. Fear of Muslims. Fear of Mexicans. Fear of death squads targeting your grandma. Yes, you can get fear in any size and flavor you want. Protect our shores from hostile aliens bent on destroying our way of life! Stem the tide of dangerous hordes of illegal immigrants stealing our jobs in the slaughter houses! Build walls and bombs and send out the drones! (What ever happened to sending out the clowns?)
Fear is all natural and calorie free and you can get as much as you want (and certainly more than you can stomach). Wrong wing conservatives (emphasis on the "con") and teabag wags offering wholesale fear, warning us of evil jihad lovers stalking our streets at night who will take away our liberty and freedom and apple pie. Life without apple pie? Oh no, Mister Bill! You've got my vote!
Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. It is equally true that those who understand the past are empowered to repeat it. Hitler understood this and used fear to control people. My favorite quote from that sociopath is, "How fortunate for rulers that people do not think."
He nailed it though, didn't he? Thinking is the last thing politicians what people to do and fortunately for the powers that want to be, thinking is not in fashion these days.
But fear mongering is the easiest way to get elected. Fear here! Get your fear here! Vote for me and stop the flood of dangerous Canadian drugs threatening pharmaceutical profits! Vote for me and protect your second amendment right to own grenade launchers. Vote for me and we'll send all those drug crazed murderous illegal aliens back to Nicaragua (excluding your gardener and nanny of course!).
It's easy to criticize this technique, but one can't argue success. Regressive candidates are water-boarding public reason by singing mantras of "bringing liberty and justice back to our citizens" and promising to "fight for what's right" to the background tune of primal fear. Meanwhile, they're investing heavily in brick and mortar stocks. Yes, we do in fact have something to truly fear. These mouthpieces could win and gain real power.
Now that's a scary thought indeed. So let's see now. That's a double fear with cheese, hold the truth, and an extra large drink of carbonated lies. And would you like fries with that?
Friday, October 29, 2010
Listen To The Silence
What one does is important, but what one says can be just as important. In fact, we even have laws stipulating what can or cannot be said. You can't launch a volley of vulgarity in a public restaurant. You can't yell "Fire!" in a building just for fun. You can't joke about having a gun in an airport.
Oddly enough though, there's no law against lying. When running for Governor or the House or any other political office, you can pretty much say anything you want without risking prosecution for conveying a falsehood, for stretching the truth a bit, for distorting the facts, for making up facts, for misinforming or misleading, for fabricating fiction, for political prevarication, or for being an outright liar.
Yes, there's a lot of stretched truths and brazen mistruths tossed around lately. I find myself predisposed to sudden body weight loss when I hear a politician leveraging emotional rants of "secure our borders" or "smoke out the terrorists" to justify trampling civil rights or promoting racist behavior under the flag of patriotism.
But there is something far worse than the ubiquitous lies and distortions inundating us these days. We are suffering from a pathology of apathy that infects citizens coast to coast.
People simply don't listen.
Consider the problems that face you throughout the year. Your children's schools are underfunded. Your roads are crumbling. The distant mountains become dimmer and dimmer each year as the air around us is slowly polluted. Thousands of children are missing each year, families torn apart by grief. Alcoholism and drug addiction cost us billions each year. Hundreds of thousands die from cigarette smoking. Car theft, murder, kidnappings, theft, burglary, muggings. Our nation is dying.
And so what do regressive power-seekers do? They wave banners of national pride, blame migrant workers and slaughter house workers for the potholes in our roads, warn of impending doom, and chant well-rehearsed rhetoric of national security. You would think people would be more concerned with the quality of the water they drink, or the air they breathe, or the streets they drive? We're becoming a nation of reactive non-thinkers, the perfect breeding ground for politicians who rush towards power based on building walls rather than building trust, the very antithesis of leadership, people who work hard to separate rather than unite us.
But people don't listen, at least not to those trying to fix the world. Wave tea bags and yell about taxes and people will vote for you. Call someone a socialist and people will vote for you. Use racism and fear to demean your opponent and people will vote for you.
But talk about spending more money on schools and hospitals and fire fighters and you'll have an argument on your hands.
Well, arguments are a good thing. They induce people to listen. But you can't listen to what isn't said. And so the worst behavior isn't that of politicians. It's the dismal silence of people not voting. When you don't vote, it doesn't matter what you would like to say. No one is there to hear you.
The only thing that annoys me more than apathy is silent rage. This election, you must vote. Do you want more walls? Do you want more civil rights? Do you want police beating and dragging illegals out of the country? Do you want more money spent on schools? If you want something, then vote.
I really don't care if you're against or for military spending in Iraq and Afghanistan, against or for legalizing aliens who have worked here for years, against or for shooting polar bears and wolves. Your opinion is yours and it's your right to agree or disagree with me or anyone else.
But if you don't vote, then you have no right to say anything. Vote or shut up! You have rage? Then vote and be heard. Otherwise, sit back and just be quiet because no one wants to hear what you have to say.
Vote!
Oddly enough though, there's no law against lying. When running for Governor or the House or any other political office, you can pretty much say anything you want without risking prosecution for conveying a falsehood, for stretching the truth a bit, for distorting the facts, for making up facts, for misinforming or misleading, for fabricating fiction, for political prevarication, or for being an outright liar.
Yes, there's a lot of stretched truths and brazen mistruths tossed around lately. I find myself predisposed to sudden body weight loss when I hear a politician leveraging emotional rants of "secure our borders" or "smoke out the terrorists" to justify trampling civil rights or promoting racist behavior under the flag of patriotism.
But there is something far worse than the ubiquitous lies and distortions inundating us these days. We are suffering from a pathology of apathy that infects citizens coast to coast.
People simply don't listen.
Consider the problems that face you throughout the year. Your children's schools are underfunded. Your roads are crumbling. The distant mountains become dimmer and dimmer each year as the air around us is slowly polluted. Thousands of children are missing each year, families torn apart by grief. Alcoholism and drug addiction cost us billions each year. Hundreds of thousands die from cigarette smoking. Car theft, murder, kidnappings, theft, burglary, muggings. Our nation is dying.
And so what do regressive power-seekers do? They wave banners of national pride, blame migrant workers and slaughter house workers for the potholes in our roads, warn of impending doom, and chant well-rehearsed rhetoric of national security. You would think people would be more concerned with the quality of the water they drink, or the air they breathe, or the streets they drive? We're becoming a nation of reactive non-thinkers, the perfect breeding ground for politicians who rush towards power based on building walls rather than building trust, the very antithesis of leadership, people who work hard to separate rather than unite us.
But people don't listen, at least not to those trying to fix the world. Wave tea bags and yell about taxes and people will vote for you. Call someone a socialist and people will vote for you. Use racism and fear to demean your opponent and people will vote for you.
But talk about spending more money on schools and hospitals and fire fighters and you'll have an argument on your hands.
Well, arguments are a good thing. They induce people to listen. But you can't listen to what isn't said. And so the worst behavior isn't that of politicians. It's the dismal silence of people not voting. When you don't vote, it doesn't matter what you would like to say. No one is there to hear you.
The only thing that annoys me more than apathy is silent rage. This election, you must vote. Do you want more walls? Do you want more civil rights? Do you want police beating and dragging illegals out of the country? Do you want more money spent on schools? If you want something, then vote.
I really don't care if you're against or for military spending in Iraq and Afghanistan, against or for legalizing aliens who have worked here for years, against or for shooting polar bears and wolves. Your opinion is yours and it's your right to agree or disagree with me or anyone else.
But if you don't vote, then you have no right to say anything. Vote or shut up! You have rage? Then vote and be heard. Otherwise, sit back and just be quiet because no one wants to hear what you have to say.
Vote!
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Squirting Milk From Your Eyeballs
I really don't even know where to begin with this one. I was reading one of those side stories off the home page of a news site about a hot dog. Yeah, a hot dog, but not the kind that you or I might eat. It was a $69 hot dog. Grilled in white truffle oil and topped with duck foie gras, tourists can enjoy this overpriced tube steak while being laughed at by New York residents who find the whole idea a bit hard to digest.
The gist of the story was that this wacky wiener is now in the Guinness Book of World Records for being the most expensive hot dog ever. Knowing that there are people out there willing to fork over $69 for a foie gras grease special of the week somehow makes me feel superior in a comforting way. But seriously, you can't even enjoy a good chili on a thing like that.
The story went on to present a comedic (if not scary) list of record holders in the Guinness Book and it got me wondering; who are these people? Who takes personal pride in being known for having the longest fingernails (29' 8'' total) or the longest ear hair (7.12 inches)? It's mildly entertaining to know that someone can squirt milk out of their eyeballs or floss their nose with a strand of spaghetti, but do we really need a panel of judges to verify it? Okay, yeah, you can throw a cow pie farther than anyone ever recorded. But how are you with yak droppings?
Perhaps it's the sheer lunacy of it all that mesmerizes us as we watch some guy dangle 55 pound of potatoes attached to a sword he just swallowed. Or watching someone balance a 352 pound mini-car on his head. Frankly, I was absolutely astounded to find out that they make cars that only weigh 352 pounds! Um, maybe I'm missing the whole point about why this is exciting?
I soon found myself surfing through a never-ending list of incredible feats of stupidity, all neatly organized and documented by certified technicians at Guinness. Can you imagine the sheer discipline required to train for the "Most cockroaches eaten in a minute" record?
Some of these stories do get you thinking. A woman set a record for "longest time breath held voluntarily", an astounding 18 minutes 32.6 seconds. What I found particularly amazing is that the record holders thought it important to emphasize the adjective "voluntarily". I do suppose people have held it longer against their wishes.
Then there's a guy who holds the record for the largest kidney stone, nearly 22 ounces. I think he also set the record for loudest scream when he passed it.
Speaking of loudest, Guinness states that the record for the loudest burp is 107.1 decibels. That's equivalent to a twin-engine MD-80 at takeoff. Kind of makes a parent proud to know their kid is accomplishing something at college.
It seems that no record is too stupid to make, or break. At Warwick University, 451 students dressed up as Smurfs, blue skin and all. That record was broken by 1253 blue-skinned blue-shirt white hat adorned proud citizens of Castleblayney Ireland. That's enough Smurfs, isn't it? The students of Swansea University in Wales disagreed and came out in force, 2510 Smurfs strong! The real question is; was there only one female Smurf in the crowd?
A record 13,000 Santa Clauses in Derry City, Northern Ireland. A record of being dragged 1551 feet by a horse (while on fire). The most eggs smashed with one's face. A crowd of 13,597 people dancing to Michael Jackson's "Thriller". The most rattlesnakes hanging out of someone's mouth. A girl who balanced 15 books on her head while solving the Rubiks cube and reciting pi out 100 places.
Just when it was finally safe to go back in the water, the dry land is filled with nutcases! I don't really want to complain, but come to think of it, is there a record for complaining that I can try to beat?
The gist of the story was that this wacky wiener is now in the Guinness Book of World Records for being the most expensive hot dog ever. Knowing that there are people out there willing to fork over $69 for a foie gras grease special of the week somehow makes me feel superior in a comforting way. But seriously, you can't even enjoy a good chili on a thing like that.
The story went on to present a comedic (if not scary) list of record holders in the Guinness Book and it got me wondering; who are these people? Who takes personal pride in being known for having the longest fingernails (29' 8'' total) or the longest ear hair (7.12 inches)? It's mildly entertaining to know that someone can squirt milk out of their eyeballs or floss their nose with a strand of spaghetti, but do we really need a panel of judges to verify it? Okay, yeah, you can throw a cow pie farther than anyone ever recorded. But how are you with yak droppings?
Perhaps it's the sheer lunacy of it all that mesmerizes us as we watch some guy dangle 55 pound of potatoes attached to a sword he just swallowed. Or watching someone balance a 352 pound mini-car on his head. Frankly, I was absolutely astounded to find out that they make cars that only weigh 352 pounds! Um, maybe I'm missing the whole point about why this is exciting?
I soon found myself surfing through a never-ending list of incredible feats of stupidity, all neatly organized and documented by certified technicians at Guinness. Can you imagine the sheer discipline required to train for the "Most cockroaches eaten in a minute" record?
Some of these stories do get you thinking. A woman set a record for "longest time breath held voluntarily", an astounding 18 minutes 32.6 seconds. What I found particularly amazing is that the record holders thought it important to emphasize the adjective "voluntarily". I do suppose people have held it longer against their wishes.
Then there's a guy who holds the record for the largest kidney stone, nearly 22 ounces. I think he also set the record for loudest scream when he passed it.
Speaking of loudest, Guinness states that the record for the loudest burp is 107.1 decibels. That's equivalent to a twin-engine MD-80 at takeoff. Kind of makes a parent proud to know their kid is accomplishing something at college.
It seems that no record is too stupid to make, or break. At Warwick University, 451 students dressed up as Smurfs, blue skin and all. That record was broken by 1253 blue-skinned blue-shirt white hat adorned proud citizens of Castleblayney Ireland. That's enough Smurfs, isn't it? The students of Swansea University in Wales disagreed and came out in force, 2510 Smurfs strong! The real question is; was there only one female Smurf in the crowd?
A record 13,000 Santa Clauses in Derry City, Northern Ireland. A record of being dragged 1551 feet by a horse (while on fire). The most eggs smashed with one's face. A crowd of 13,597 people dancing to Michael Jackson's "Thriller". The most rattlesnakes hanging out of someone's mouth. A girl who balanced 15 books on her head while solving the Rubiks cube and reciting pi out 100 places.
Just when it was finally safe to go back in the water, the dry land is filled with nutcases! I don't really want to complain, but come to think of it, is there a record for complaining that I can try to beat?
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Just Do It!
[NOTE: This column was deemed "not fit to print" by the newspaper. I do in fact agree that the lyrics I quoted are indecent and as a family newspaper, their decision not to print it was more than reasonable. BUT this should make you think! What does it say when we agree that lyrics like these are unfit to print and yet these are the songs your 12-year old daughters listen to? These songs are played on the radio and lyrics FAR more vulgar are common in today's "top 20" songs. My column is designed to get you to think ... so think about it.}
Birds do it. Bees do it. Even educated fleas do it. Let's do it. Let's fall in love. Yeah, well falling in love wasn't really what Cole Porter was talking about, was it? For several generations, lyrics to popular songs have expressed "doing it" in most every way possibly imagined. Perhaps it was the Beatles who removed any last doubt with their explicit (albeit rather bizarre) request - Why don't we do it in the road?
Oddly enough though, it didn't seem all that dirty back then. Risque perhaps, but not dirty. In the 50's, parents were shocked and young girls thrilled at the antics of Elvis "The Pelvis" Presley. His gyrations prompted many a father to change the channel, much to the dismay of his daughter (and probably his wife.)
But the lyrics of songs today are increasingly outright pornographic. Man, if only my father were alive. To hear me complain about the music kids listen to? It's just as well that he's dead. He'd have a heart attack from dancing in joy to hear me talk like this.
Seriously, as much as I like calculus, there has to be a limit on limits. Many lyrics in top-ten songs these days can't even be printed in the newspaper. I'm not really sure how explicit I can get in my column without having it censored, but hey, let's give it a try and see. Just remember, these lyrics are verbatim from songs that your twelve-year old daughter listens to.
For example, consider Rihanna's hit song "Rude". How appropriate of a title. Its lyrics include: "Come on rude boy! Is you big enough? Take it! Take it! Tonight I'mma let you do your thing. I'mma let you be a rider. Giddy up! Giddy up, babe!"
Another top hit on the pop chart is "California Gurls" by Katy Perry. "I know a place where the grass is really greener. Warm, wet and wild. Laying underneath the palm trees. The boys break their necks try'na to creep a little sneak peek."
No innuendos there, huh? Even my 8th grade niece understands that one.
Let's not forget the Queen of Vile, Lady "Gag Gag". A couple lines from Bad Romance - "I want your psycho, your vertigo stick. Want you in my rear window."
Then there's Eminem. I won't even bother trying to write out his lyrics. The print machines at the newspaper office would have a melt down.
And finally, let's try a few lyrics from Ciara and Ludacris's hit, "Ride". Uh, the title kind of gives it away, doesn't it? I won't bother grossing you out with the explicit lyrics. How about a quick sampling of words from the song? Big - hard - ride - rollercoaster - scream - thoroughbred - again - again - again - touchdown - score!
Whatever happened to nice clean music that actually sounds good? Aside from the outright vulgarity, many of these songs are simply bad. I mean, they're just not good music.
And why is it acceptable to play this sewage on the radio? If I listed out the explicit lyrics in many of these songs, they couldn't print it. If you were to sing one of these songs while walking around Ashley Pond, you could get arrested for public indecency. And yet these are the words sung out proudly (and for lots of money) by the role models for our children. These are the songs that fill the iPods in the Middle School playground.
The lyrics for "I've got a feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas pretty much sums up the mentality of modern day music. And yes, this is verbatim - "Let's Do it. Let's Do it. Let's Do it. Let's Do it. And do it. And do it. Let's live it up. And do it. And do it. And do it do it do it. Let's do it. Let's do it. Let's do it."
But let's allow Cole Porter to have the last word here. "Cold Cape Cod clams, 'gainst their wish, do it. Even lazy jellyfish do it. Let's do it, let's fall in love."
Birds do it. Bees do it. Even educated fleas do it. Let's do it. Let's fall in love. Yeah, well falling in love wasn't really what Cole Porter was talking about, was it? For several generations, lyrics to popular songs have expressed "doing it" in most every way possibly imagined. Perhaps it was the Beatles who removed any last doubt with their explicit (albeit rather bizarre) request - Why don't we do it in the road?
Oddly enough though, it didn't seem all that dirty back then. Risque perhaps, but not dirty. In the 50's, parents were shocked and young girls thrilled at the antics of Elvis "The Pelvis" Presley. His gyrations prompted many a father to change the channel, much to the dismay of his daughter (and probably his wife.)
But the lyrics of songs today are increasingly outright pornographic. Man, if only my father were alive. To hear me complain about the music kids listen to? It's just as well that he's dead. He'd have a heart attack from dancing in joy to hear me talk like this.
Seriously, as much as I like calculus, there has to be a limit on limits. Many lyrics in top-ten songs these days can't even be printed in the newspaper. I'm not really sure how explicit I can get in my column without having it censored, but hey, let's give it a try and see. Just remember, these lyrics are verbatim from songs that your twelve-year old daughter listens to.
For example, consider Rihanna's hit song "Rude". How appropriate of a title. Its lyrics include: "Come on rude boy! Is you big enough? Take it! Take it! Tonight I'mma let you do your thing. I'mma let you be a rider. Giddy up! Giddy up, babe!"
Another top hit on the pop chart is "California Gurls" by Katy Perry. "I know a place where the grass is really greener. Warm, wet and wild. Laying underneath the palm trees. The boys break their necks try'na to creep a little sneak peek."
No innuendos there, huh? Even my 8th grade niece understands that one.
Let's not forget the Queen of Vile, Lady "Gag Gag". A couple lines from Bad Romance - "I want your psycho, your vertigo stick. Want you in my rear window."
Then there's Eminem. I won't even bother trying to write out his lyrics. The print machines at the newspaper office would have a melt down.
And finally, let's try a few lyrics from Ciara and Ludacris's hit, "Ride". Uh, the title kind of gives it away, doesn't it? I won't bother grossing you out with the explicit lyrics. How about a quick sampling of words from the song? Big - hard - ride - rollercoaster - scream - thoroughbred - again - again - again - touchdown - score!
Whatever happened to nice clean music that actually sounds good? Aside from the outright vulgarity, many of these songs are simply bad. I mean, they're just not good music.
And why is it acceptable to play this sewage on the radio? If I listed out the explicit lyrics in many of these songs, they couldn't print it. If you were to sing one of these songs while walking around Ashley Pond, you could get arrested for public indecency. And yet these are the words sung out proudly (and for lots of money) by the role models for our children. These are the songs that fill the iPods in the Middle School playground.
The lyrics for "I've got a feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas pretty much sums up the mentality of modern day music. And yes, this is verbatim - "Let's Do it. Let's Do it. Let's Do it. Let's Do it. And do it. And do it. Let's live it up. And do it. And do it. And do it do it do it. Let's do it. Let's do it. Let's do it."
But let's allow Cole Porter to have the last word here. "Cold Cape Cod clams, 'gainst their wish, do it. Even lazy jellyfish do it. Let's do it, let's fall in love."
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Back To School
It's a new school year and students are excited and enthusiastic as always! Well, okay, maybe not.
In preparation for this school year, I've reviewed my lesson plans, looked over new material, new techniques, new educational psychology theories, and I've pretty much decided that I'm a dinosaur. I learned math the hard way. I studied. I studied a lot. I opened my book in the evenings and worked on problems until I "got it", until something clicked and it made sense to me. It took a lot of my free time, a lot of paper, and a lot of band-aids from all those paper cuts.
But pencils and paper and open books laid out on the floor in one's bedroom is now passé. Technology is at the front lines of the learning battlefield and schools are looking to apply technology whenever and however possible. Networked collaborative learning environments are paving the educational highways to the future.
The question is; where is that highway taking us? And are there any Starbucks in the rest areas?
I recently attended a week-long conference on "The 21st Century Classroom" held at UNM-LA campus. It was very informative and we all walked away with dozens of great ideas for our classrooms. My problem is, I'm not sure how much of it I can use. The key to leveraging technology in an educational environment is to engage the students, to allow them to collaborate, to exchange thoughts and ideas and opinions. Are we really ready for this type of learning environment? Should I be texting assignments to my students?
Whether or not you use Twitter, blogs, glogs, texting, Facebook or wikis, your kids almost certainly do. We grew up with LAN phones, encyclopedia sets, mail and television. Our kids grew up with cell phones, computers, wikis, and video apps. Their world is a collage of meshed information networks, one in which knowledge is accessed effortlessly and immediately.
If I wanted to know the capital of Portugal, I went to the library, opened the "M" edition from the encyclopedia set, and looked up Portugal. If my nephew wants to know the average rainfall in Bolivia over the past fifteen years, he googles his question and finds himself immersed with data sheets and analysis.
It's a new world, sometimes a bit scary, but certainly one in which opportunities abound for education. These opportunities are not going unnoticed and institutions across the nation are embracing them with unbridled zeal. Schools are setting up wikis and blogs. Some classes use Twitter. Technology is a force of nature, but like Vader's force, there is a dark side and we need to understand the scope of this changing landscape.
The true advantage of technology is networking, engaging students' thinking in a real world context. But integrating "the world" into the classroom is not without risk.
Networking presents very real problems. We have to deal with sexual predators, cyber-bullying, and pornography. Internet access to ubiquitous knowledge opens many doors that we don't want our students going through, even inadvertently. Given these and other dangers, what are the legal issues that might face us by using the internet in our classes?
These issues are very real and can incur serious consequences if not managed properly. Students have been arrested for making cyber-threats. Peer pressure from Facebook hecklers have driven students to suicide. The growing usage of texting quickly instantiated sexting. Access to internet sites can bring racist propaganda into the classroom. And networked environments can lend themselves to academic dishonesty.
It's 2010 and so we're a little behind the times in establishing the 21st Century Classroom. UNM-LA deserves real applause for bringing together several school districts to address this need. Technology can't just be a better piece of chalk. We're going to be looking at this carefully and working hard to connect our students with the world out there.
Now class, I want you to google Emperor Commodus, determine the name of his parents, how many siblings he had, when did his twin brother die, what was the name of his oldest sister, and what relation to her was Appius Claudius Quintanus.
In preparation for this school year, I've reviewed my lesson plans, looked over new material, new techniques, new educational psychology theories, and I've pretty much decided that I'm a dinosaur. I learned math the hard way. I studied. I studied a lot. I opened my book in the evenings and worked on problems until I "got it", until something clicked and it made sense to me. It took a lot of my free time, a lot of paper, and a lot of band-aids from all those paper cuts.
But pencils and paper and open books laid out on the floor in one's bedroom is now passé. Technology is at the front lines of the learning battlefield and schools are looking to apply technology whenever and however possible. Networked collaborative learning environments are paving the educational highways to the future.
The question is; where is that highway taking us? And are there any Starbucks in the rest areas?
I recently attended a week-long conference on "The 21st Century Classroom" held at UNM-LA campus. It was very informative and we all walked away with dozens of great ideas for our classrooms. My problem is, I'm not sure how much of it I can use. The key to leveraging technology in an educational environment is to engage the students, to allow them to collaborate, to exchange thoughts and ideas and opinions. Are we really ready for this type of learning environment? Should I be texting assignments to my students?
Whether or not you use Twitter, blogs, glogs, texting, Facebook or wikis, your kids almost certainly do. We grew up with LAN phones, encyclopedia sets, mail and television. Our kids grew up with cell phones, computers, wikis, and video apps. Their world is a collage of meshed information networks, one in which knowledge is accessed effortlessly and immediately.
If I wanted to know the capital of Portugal, I went to the library, opened the "M" edition from the encyclopedia set, and looked up Portugal. If my nephew wants to know the average rainfall in Bolivia over the past fifteen years, he googles his question and finds himself immersed with data sheets and analysis.
It's a new world, sometimes a bit scary, but certainly one in which opportunities abound for education. These opportunities are not going unnoticed and institutions across the nation are embracing them with unbridled zeal. Schools are setting up wikis and blogs. Some classes use Twitter. Technology is a force of nature, but like Vader's force, there is a dark side and we need to understand the scope of this changing landscape.
The true advantage of technology is networking, engaging students' thinking in a real world context. But integrating "the world" into the classroom is not without risk.
Networking presents very real problems. We have to deal with sexual predators, cyber-bullying, and pornography. Internet access to ubiquitous knowledge opens many doors that we don't want our students going through, even inadvertently. Given these and other dangers, what are the legal issues that might face us by using the internet in our classes?
These issues are very real and can incur serious consequences if not managed properly. Students have been arrested for making cyber-threats. Peer pressure from Facebook hecklers have driven students to suicide. The growing usage of texting quickly instantiated sexting. Access to internet sites can bring racist propaganda into the classroom. And networked environments can lend themselves to academic dishonesty.
It's 2010 and so we're a little behind the times in establishing the 21st Century Classroom. UNM-LA deserves real applause for bringing together several school districts to address this need. Technology can't just be a better piece of chalk. We're going to be looking at this carefully and working hard to connect our students with the world out there.
Now class, I want you to google Emperor Commodus, determine the name of his parents, how many siblings he had, when did his twin brother die, what was the name of his oldest sister, and what relation to her was Appius Claudius Quintanus.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Whatever Happened To The Funny?
I love peanuts. That is to say, I love Peanuts. Charlie Brown was always my hero. Fighting off kite-eating trees. Pitching for the world's worst baseball team. Having a dog who fought to keep the skies safe from WWI enemy aces. And never never never giving up on kicking that football held by our favorite sadistic nickel-a-session psychiatrist.
Most of all, I love Charlie Brown because he makes me laugh. Whether it's watching him get outdone by his dog's Christmas decorations or having to deal with arguments over the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is a true comic. And what a coincidence that his strip is in the "comics" section.
But these days, so many comics have little to do with funny. Go to the so-called comics or funny pages and suddenly you find yourself dealing with the trauma of life's realities. One strip had a family's dog die after saving their daughter from drowning. Another had a character die of breast cancer. And another had someone die of AIDs. If I want to see disasters and family tragedies, I'll watch the morning news. I read the comics in the hope of finding something to laugh about.
Many comic strips never lost the funny because they never had it. Some are mindless, some are boring, and some are downright morose. But this is nothing new. Brenda Starr, Mary Worth, Steve Canyon ... kids always skipped past those when reading the comics on Sunday.
Now, there are many comics that I do find funny. My taste is hardly a metric one should use to judge anything, but here's my take anyway. Along with Peanuts, some of the best comic strips have been Ziggy, Opus, The Far Side, Dilbert, Calvin & Hobbes, Broom Hilda, Baby Blues, Bloom County, Non Sequitur, Shoe, Off The Mark, Little Orphan Annie, Rubes, and The Lockhorns.
Umm ... I'm kidding about Little Orphan Annie. I don't know about you, but that kid really creeped me out. And what are the odds that she would find a dog that had the same spooky look? On a side note, in a much older and thankfully extinct comic strip, there was a very famous cartoon dog named Tige, the pet owned by Buster (of Buster Brown shoes). Without a doubt, Tige was the scariest creature ever concocted, the poster dog of nightmares for children and monsters alike.
Anyway, as I mentioned, quite a few comics from past years were never all that funny. Remember Henry? Henry was weird .. just plain weird. And Nancy was a freak of nature. Barney Google and Snuffy Smith were lazy dregs of society. Andy Capp was an extremely unlikeable drunk. Archie and his friends were tedious. Curtis was an insult to intelligence. Alley Oop was an insult to DNA. Gasoline Alley is just plain stupid and the Quigmans are just plain scary. Rex Morgan makes Mark Trail look interesting. And Beetle Bailey did the impossible, making the military look even more ridiculous than it really is.
So where's all the funny? Bugs Bunny was funny. The Road Runner was funny. What's wrong with wanting a little funny in our lives? Are people so hard up for misery that they have to read Apartment 3G, Judge Parker, or Funky Winkerbean to drag them down a few notches?
Yeah, yeah ... I know. I'm dissing some comics you love and perhaps I'm not trashing a few you hate. But seriously, does anyone out there really enjoy Blondie? How many times can Dagwood run into the postman? How many times are we supposed to watch that clown make a two foot tall sandwich? How many times can you expect people to laugh as we watch his sadistic boss beat him with a chair? It's just not funny anymore. Was it ever?
There are many comic strips that aren't funny per se, but do register wonderfully on higher levels of humor. Little Abner is a classic. And who could forget Pogo? Uh, you do remember Pogo, don't you? Am I showing my age?
Hey! I want funny! I want entertainment! I want to laugh!
I've got it. Let's put Congressional speeches in the funny pages! Every day, we could enjoy the light-hearted ramblings about death panels, Nazi saluting Presidents, and water-boarding to protect our shores. We could have strips about flying Cessnas and shooting Polar bears. We could watch fun loving characters like Rash Limball riding his trusty horse Openmouth along the borders of Texas as he ropes and brands illegals. Or maybe a series on the Adventures of Balloon Boy?
Then again, maybe old spooky eyes wasn't all that bad.
Most of all, I love Charlie Brown because he makes me laugh. Whether it's watching him get outdone by his dog's Christmas decorations or having to deal with arguments over the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is a true comic. And what a coincidence that his strip is in the "comics" section.
But these days, so many comics have little to do with funny. Go to the so-called comics or funny pages and suddenly you find yourself dealing with the trauma of life's realities. One strip had a family's dog die after saving their daughter from drowning. Another had a character die of breast cancer. And another had someone die of AIDs. If I want to see disasters and family tragedies, I'll watch the morning news. I read the comics in the hope of finding something to laugh about.
Many comic strips never lost the funny because they never had it. Some are mindless, some are boring, and some are downright morose. But this is nothing new. Brenda Starr, Mary Worth, Steve Canyon ... kids always skipped past those when reading the comics on Sunday.
Now, there are many comics that I do find funny. My taste is hardly a metric one should use to judge anything, but here's my take anyway. Along with Peanuts, some of the best comic strips have been Ziggy, Opus, The Far Side, Dilbert, Calvin & Hobbes, Broom Hilda, Baby Blues, Bloom County, Non Sequitur, Shoe, Off The Mark, Little Orphan Annie, Rubes, and The Lockhorns.
Umm ... I'm kidding about Little Orphan Annie. I don't know about you, but that kid really creeped me out. And what are the odds that she would find a dog that had the same spooky look? On a side note, in a much older and thankfully extinct comic strip, there was a very famous cartoon dog named Tige, the pet owned by Buster (of Buster Brown shoes). Without a doubt, Tige was the scariest creature ever concocted, the poster dog of nightmares for children and monsters alike.
Anyway, as I mentioned, quite a few comics from past years were never all that funny. Remember Henry? Henry was weird .. just plain weird. And Nancy was a freak of nature. Barney Google and Snuffy Smith were lazy dregs of society. Andy Capp was an extremely unlikeable drunk. Archie and his friends were tedious. Curtis was an insult to intelligence. Alley Oop was an insult to DNA. Gasoline Alley is just plain stupid and the Quigmans are just plain scary. Rex Morgan makes Mark Trail look interesting. And Beetle Bailey did the impossible, making the military look even more ridiculous than it really is.
So where's all the funny? Bugs Bunny was funny. The Road Runner was funny. What's wrong with wanting a little funny in our lives? Are people so hard up for misery that they have to read Apartment 3G, Judge Parker, or Funky Winkerbean to drag them down a few notches?
Yeah, yeah ... I know. I'm dissing some comics you love and perhaps I'm not trashing a few you hate. But seriously, does anyone out there really enjoy Blondie? How many times can Dagwood run into the postman? How many times are we supposed to watch that clown make a two foot tall sandwich? How many times can you expect people to laugh as we watch his sadistic boss beat him with a chair? It's just not funny anymore. Was it ever?
There are many comic strips that aren't funny per se, but do register wonderfully on higher levels of humor. Little Abner is a classic. And who could forget Pogo? Uh, you do remember Pogo, don't you? Am I showing my age?
Hey! I want funny! I want entertainment! I want to laugh!
I've got it. Let's put Congressional speeches in the funny pages! Every day, we could enjoy the light-hearted ramblings about death panels, Nazi saluting Presidents, and water-boarding to protect our shores. We could have strips about flying Cessnas and shooting Polar bears. We could watch fun loving characters like Rash Limball riding his trusty horse Openmouth along the borders of Texas as he ropes and brands illegals. Or maybe a series on the Adventures of Balloon Boy?
Then again, maybe old spooky eyes wasn't all that bad.
Don't Count On It
If a hen and a half lays an egg and a half in a day in a half, how many eggs do six hens lay in seven days?
John Paulos' book, Innumeracy, cites a story about a weatherman who was discussing the chances of rain in the coming weekend. "Well folks, there's a 50% chance of rain on Saturday and 50% chance of rain on Sunday. So it looks like there's a 100% chance of rain this weekend!" It may or may not have rained that weekend, but clearly there was a low pressure cell between this guy's ears.
While taking a walk one summer, I stopped at a garage sale at which one child had a small table set up and was selling beaded bracelets he had made. When I asked how much they cost, he said "30 cents each or three for a dollar." And people still debate whether math skills are a problem in this country? Of course, I recognize a bargain when I see one ... I bought six.
Declining math skills are a constant sore point with me and I've voiced my strong objection against the use of calculators many times. If it were up to me, students would not be allowed to use calculators until 11th grade. Watching students pull out their calculators when asked to multiply 150 times 2 gives me mental agita worse than a weekend marathon of "Real Housewives of New Jersey." With each button pushed, these electronic black-holes of intelligence are sucking away our nation's future.
Calculators do contribute to the problem, but they're only a symptom of the more erosive effects of educational apathy. Many parents have joined the battle and are now fighting on the front lines of the war on education, employing weapons of math direction such as after-school tutoring, summer classes, home schooling and online courses. And yet, these are at best band-aids attempting to stem the bleeding of cognition and intuitive reasoning that now plague our educational institutions. The question asked by Morris Kline 25 years ago - "Why can't Johnny add?" - is no longer relevant. The question today is - "Why doesn't Johnny even care that he can't add?"
A test was given to a high school class, asking them "If a computer has a list price of $1500 and the store is offering a 30% discount, what is the final price of the computer if you have to pay 12% tax?" Students merrily poked their electronic Texas friend to retrieve the answer but neglected to use 0.12 as the multiplier for the tax, using "12" instead. Without even questioning the validity of the numbers being regurgitated, they wrote down their answer of $13,650. This is numerical illiteracy.
It's as if numbers have no more meaning than Klingon characters. Dor-sho-gha! jIwuQ! ¿Habla matemáticas?
Let's get serious about this. We have kids going to college who cannot determine the volume of a cube. People carry "tip cards" in their wallets because they can't calculate 15% of $20. Your average student in high school no longer knows common measurement substitutions, like; How many ounces in a gallon? How many feet in a mile? How many furlongs in a fortnight?
When did math lose its importance in America? We mandate that students know the capital of North Dakota, that they know what happened in the War of 1812 (and hopefully when it was fought), that they can recognize iambic pentameter. Why is it acceptable for them not to know how to add a fraction without the help of a Cray CX1?
So what's the solution? Ban calculators? Force every child to learn the multiplication table out to the 50s? Put basic math equations on the back of cereal boxes? Outlaw accountants and force people to do their own taxes?
Study after study shows the United States falling behind other nations in education. Test scores place the United States at average (at best) and more often below average. Has it really gotten that bad? Does being able to mentally calculate a 15% tip now require a college education?
Maybe the solution is as simple as one plus one (please don't use a calculator to figure this one out!). Maybe we, as a society, need to recognize that being able to add and multiply without a calculator does have innate value. Maybe we need to turn off the television set, put away the iPod, turn off the cell phone, and open a book. Maybe the reward that education brings is in fact worth the effort?
The answer, by the way, is twenty-eight eggs (not forty-two). Hmmm ... maybe we need better calculators?
John Paulos' book, Innumeracy, cites a story about a weatherman who was discussing the chances of rain in the coming weekend. "Well folks, there's a 50% chance of rain on Saturday and 50% chance of rain on Sunday. So it looks like there's a 100% chance of rain this weekend!" It may or may not have rained that weekend, but clearly there was a low pressure cell between this guy's ears.
While taking a walk one summer, I stopped at a garage sale at which one child had a small table set up and was selling beaded bracelets he had made. When I asked how much they cost, he said "30 cents each or three for a dollar." And people still debate whether math skills are a problem in this country? Of course, I recognize a bargain when I see one ... I bought six.
Declining math skills are a constant sore point with me and I've voiced my strong objection against the use of calculators many times. If it were up to me, students would not be allowed to use calculators until 11th grade. Watching students pull out their calculators when asked to multiply 150 times 2 gives me mental agita worse than a weekend marathon of "Real Housewives of New Jersey." With each button pushed, these electronic black-holes of intelligence are sucking away our nation's future.
Calculators do contribute to the problem, but they're only a symptom of the more erosive effects of educational apathy. Many parents have joined the battle and are now fighting on the front lines of the war on education, employing weapons of math direction such as after-school tutoring, summer classes, home schooling and online courses. And yet, these are at best band-aids attempting to stem the bleeding of cognition and intuitive reasoning that now plague our educational institutions. The question asked by Morris Kline 25 years ago - "Why can't Johnny add?" - is no longer relevant. The question today is - "Why doesn't Johnny even care that he can't add?"
A test was given to a high school class, asking them "If a computer has a list price of $1500 and the store is offering a 30% discount, what is the final price of the computer if you have to pay 12% tax?" Students merrily poked their electronic Texas friend to retrieve the answer but neglected to use 0.12 as the multiplier for the tax, using "12" instead. Without even questioning the validity of the numbers being regurgitated, they wrote down their answer of $13,650. This is numerical illiteracy.
It's as if numbers have no more meaning than Klingon characters. Dor-sho-gha! jIwuQ! ¿Habla matemáticas?
Let's get serious about this. We have kids going to college who cannot determine the volume of a cube. People carry "tip cards" in their wallets because they can't calculate 15% of $20. Your average student in high school no longer knows common measurement substitutions, like; How many ounces in a gallon? How many feet in a mile? How many furlongs in a fortnight?
When did math lose its importance in America? We mandate that students know the capital of North Dakota, that they know what happened in the War of 1812 (and hopefully when it was fought), that they can recognize iambic pentameter. Why is it acceptable for them not to know how to add a fraction without the help of a Cray CX1?
So what's the solution? Ban calculators? Force every child to learn the multiplication table out to the 50s? Put basic math equations on the back of cereal boxes? Outlaw accountants and force people to do their own taxes?
Study after study shows the United States falling behind other nations in education. Test scores place the United States at average (at best) and more often below average. Has it really gotten that bad? Does being able to mentally calculate a 15% tip now require a college education?
Maybe the solution is as simple as one plus one (please don't use a calculator to figure this one out!). Maybe we, as a society, need to recognize that being able to add and multiply without a calculator does have innate value. Maybe we need to turn off the television set, put away the iPod, turn off the cell phone, and open a book. Maybe the reward that education brings is in fact worth the effort?
The answer, by the way, is twenty-eight eggs (not forty-two). Hmmm ... maybe we need better calculators?
What's Love Got To Do With It?
We have a rather delicate problem in our neighborhood. A couple who live down the street from my house want to get married. Now, I have no problem with "those people" living in my neighborhood. I don’t know them, but they seem to be decent enough. The problem is … well, their life style isn’t exactly what many of us view as ... normal. If they want to live together, that's okay with me, but why do they have to get married?
They’re Presbyterians. Yeah, I know what many people would say to me. What right do I have to prevent Presbyterians from getting married? Well, first of all, you have to agree that if we allow them to get married, the next thing they’ll want is the right to adopt children or even to have one on their own. What next? Buy a house? Get a dog? It's disgusting!
Allowing this marriage could easily condone other forms of deviant behavior. Should we allow Jews to marry Baptists? Old men to marry young women? Americans marrying Canadians? Seriously, where would it end? Legalizing this union would undermine the institution of marriage, but this is only the beginning. Divorces would become commonplace. The nuclear family would be destroyed, family values would be undermined and the children would suffer, marital privacy would become a thing of the past, and the legal problems associated with work environments will become a social nightmare.
Okay, okay ... maybe I'm being a little harsh on Presbyterians. After all, some of my best friends are Presbyterians. I like them. I really do. And I "tolerate" their existence in society. I'm a very tolerant person.
But many people are truly scared over what would happen if we allow willy-nilly unions of Presbyterians. Think I'm exaggerating? Do an internet search and read the arguments against them getting married. Our children would be forced to recite nursery rhymes of Calvin and Jill going up the hill. Boy Scouts would be forced to take showers with older Presbyterians. Our streets would no longer be safe. Presbyterian doctrine would spread across the globe and nations would crumble under the moral decay. The redefinition of marriage would prompt other deviant life styles, revitalize polygamy, encourage bestiality, and justify child abuse.
Really ... what IS the problem? If two people love each other and want to get married, why does it bother people so much? The arguments against Presbyterian marriage are painfully reminiscent of those made in the recent past against other marriages. Virginia's laws prohibiting marriage between whites and blacks weren't declared unconstitutional until 1967. South Carolina didn't overturn their laws against mixed marriage until 1998, and Alabama's weren't overturned until 2000.
So what does define marriage? Many states allow marriages between cousins. Marrying one's aunt or uncle is likewise allowed. Some states allow girls as young as 13 years old (with family court approval) to get married. How do we define "normal"? It's considered normal to get married, get divorced, get married, get divorced, get married ... there is no law limiting how many times one can promise to spend eternity with someone else.
Traditional marriages in this world include arranged marriages, spouses purchased from other countries, and even polygamy. The world doesn't have a problem with 95 year old men marrying 16 year old girls. You can go to Las Vegas and have an Elvis impersonator marry you to a hooker, while still preserving the sanctity of marriage. Even convicted murderers in our prisons get married.
But the arguments continue. Presbyterians can't procreate and hence shouldn't get married! Okay, then let's force everyone to take a fertility test for all marriages.
Children need pair-ents. Ah, well then, what do we do with all those single parents out there? If your spouse dies, we'll just have to take that kid away!
Children raised by Presbyterians will become Presbyterians! Really? If all our marriages are currently Baptist and Catholic and Methodist, etc ... where are all those Presbyterians coming from?
Finally, the big one ... it's unnatural! Unnatural, eh? Okay, let's ban everything "unnatural". Let's ban artificial hearts, eyeglasses, surgery, prosthetic limbs, in vitro fertilization, antibiotics, Viagra, fertility drugs, Botox, and hip and knee replacements. That would be the "natural" thing to do.
All right, I'm convinced! Let them get married! I mean, why should anyone care if two people in love who just happen to be Presbyterian want to ... what? Gays? You want me to talk about gays getting married?
Well, that's a horse of a different preference. No, no ... I'll have to defer to the deep wisdom of Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger who once said, "I think gay marriage is something that should be between a man and a woman."
They’re Presbyterians. Yeah, I know what many people would say to me. What right do I have to prevent Presbyterians from getting married? Well, first of all, you have to agree that if we allow them to get married, the next thing they’ll want is the right to adopt children or even to have one on their own. What next? Buy a house? Get a dog? It's disgusting!
Allowing this marriage could easily condone other forms of deviant behavior. Should we allow Jews to marry Baptists? Old men to marry young women? Americans marrying Canadians? Seriously, where would it end? Legalizing this union would undermine the institution of marriage, but this is only the beginning. Divorces would become commonplace. The nuclear family would be destroyed, family values would be undermined and the children would suffer, marital privacy would become a thing of the past, and the legal problems associated with work environments will become a social nightmare.
Okay, okay ... maybe I'm being a little harsh on Presbyterians. After all, some of my best friends are Presbyterians. I like them. I really do. And I "tolerate" their existence in society. I'm a very tolerant person.
But many people are truly scared over what would happen if we allow willy-nilly unions of Presbyterians. Think I'm exaggerating? Do an internet search and read the arguments against them getting married. Our children would be forced to recite nursery rhymes of Calvin and Jill going up the hill. Boy Scouts would be forced to take showers with older Presbyterians. Our streets would no longer be safe. Presbyterian doctrine would spread across the globe and nations would crumble under the moral decay. The redefinition of marriage would prompt other deviant life styles, revitalize polygamy, encourage bestiality, and justify child abuse.
Really ... what IS the problem? If two people love each other and want to get married, why does it bother people so much? The arguments against Presbyterian marriage are painfully reminiscent of those made in the recent past against other marriages. Virginia's laws prohibiting marriage between whites and blacks weren't declared unconstitutional until 1967. South Carolina didn't overturn their laws against mixed marriage until 1998, and Alabama's weren't overturned until 2000.
So what does define marriage? Many states allow marriages between cousins. Marrying one's aunt or uncle is likewise allowed. Some states allow girls as young as 13 years old (with family court approval) to get married. How do we define "normal"? It's considered normal to get married, get divorced, get married, get divorced, get married ... there is no law limiting how many times one can promise to spend eternity with someone else.
Traditional marriages in this world include arranged marriages, spouses purchased from other countries, and even polygamy. The world doesn't have a problem with 95 year old men marrying 16 year old girls. You can go to Las Vegas and have an Elvis impersonator marry you to a hooker, while still preserving the sanctity of marriage. Even convicted murderers in our prisons get married.
But the arguments continue. Presbyterians can't procreate and hence shouldn't get married! Okay, then let's force everyone to take a fertility test for all marriages.
Children need pair-ents. Ah, well then, what do we do with all those single parents out there? If your spouse dies, we'll just have to take that kid away!
Children raised by Presbyterians will become Presbyterians! Really? If all our marriages are currently Baptist and Catholic and Methodist, etc ... where are all those Presbyterians coming from?
Finally, the big one ... it's unnatural! Unnatural, eh? Okay, let's ban everything "unnatural". Let's ban artificial hearts, eyeglasses, surgery, prosthetic limbs, in vitro fertilization, antibiotics, Viagra, fertility drugs, Botox, and hip and knee replacements. That would be the "natural" thing to do.
All right, I'm convinced! Let them get married! I mean, why should anyone care if two people in love who just happen to be Presbyterian want to ... what? Gays? You want me to talk about gays getting married?
Well, that's a horse of a different preference. No, no ... I'll have to defer to the deep wisdom of Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger who once said, "I think gay marriage is something that should be between a man and a woman."
Friday, August 6, 2010
Just Do It
NOTE: This column discusses lyrics in modern music and was deemed "unprintable" by my local newspaper. I hope readers find it educational to consider how an article like this would be considered too "vulgar" to print, and yet these songs are played on the radio every day.
================================================================================
Birds do it. Bees do it. Even educated fleas do it. Let's do it. Let's fall in love. Yeah, well falling in love wasn't really what Cole Porter was talking about, was it? For several generations, lyrics to popular songs have expressed "doing it" in most every way possibly imagined. Perhaps it was the Beatles who removed any last doubt with their explicit (albeit rather bizarre) request - Why don't we do it in the road?
Oddly enough though, it didn't seem all that dirty back then. Risque perhaps, but not dirty. In the 50's, parents were shocked and young girls thrilled at the antics of Elvis "The Pelvis" Presley. His gyrations prompted many a father to change the channel, much to the dismay of his daughter (and probably his wife.)
But the lyrics of songs today are increasingly outright pornographic. Man, if only my father were alive. To hear me complain about the music kids listen to? It's just as well that he's dead. He'd have a heart attack from dancing in joy to hear me talk like this.
Seriously, as much as I like calculus, there has to be a limit on limits. Many lyrics in top-ten songs these days can't even be printed in the newspaper. I'm not really sure how explicit I can get in my column without having it censored, but hey, let's give it a try and see. Just remember, these lyrics are verbatim from songs that your twelve-year old daughter listens to.
For example, consider Rihanna's hit song "Rude". How appropriate of a title. Its lyrics include: "Come on rude boy! Is you big enough? Take it! Take it! Tonight I'mma let you do your thing. I'mma let you be a rider. Giddy up! Giddy up, babe!"
Another top hit on the pop chart is "California Gurls" by Katy Perry. "I know a place where the grass is really greener. Warm, wet and wild. Laying underneath the palm trees. The boys break their necks try'na to creep a little sneak peek."
No innuendos there, huh? Even my 8th grade niece understands that one.
Let's not forget the Queen of Vile, Lady "Gag Gag". A couple lines from Bad Romance - "I want your psycho, your vertigo stick. Want you in my rear window."
Then there's Eminem. I won't even bother trying to write out his lyrics. The print machines at the newspaper office would have a melt down.
And finally, let's try a few lyrics from Ciara and Ludacris's hit, "Ride". Uh, the title kind of gives it away, doesn't it? I won't bother grossing you out with the explicit lyrics. How about a quick sampling of words from the song? Big - hard - ride - rollercoaster - scream - thoroughbred - again - again - again - touchdown - score!
Whatever happened to nice clean music that actually sounds good? Aside from the outright vulgarity, many of these songs are simply bad. I mean, they're just not good music.
And why is it acceptable to play this sewage on the radio? If I listed out the explicit lyrics in many of these songs, they couldn't print it. If you were to sing one of these songs while walking around Ashley Pond, you could get arrested for public indecency. And yet these are the words sung out proudly (and for lots of money) by the role models for our children. These are the songs that fill the iPods in the Middle School playground.
The lyrics for "I've got a feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas pretty much sums up the mentality of modern day music. And yes, this is verbatim - "Let's Do it. Let's Do it. Let's Do it. Let's Do it. And do it. And do it. Let's live it up. And do it. And do it. And do it do it do it. Let's do it. Let's do it. Let's do it."
But let's allow Cole Porter to have the last word here. "Cold Cape Cod clams, 'gainst their wish, do it. Even lazy jellyfish do it. Let's do it, let's fall in love."
================================================================================
Birds do it. Bees do it. Even educated fleas do it. Let's do it. Let's fall in love. Yeah, well falling in love wasn't really what Cole Porter was talking about, was it? For several generations, lyrics to popular songs have expressed "doing it" in most every way possibly imagined. Perhaps it was the Beatles who removed any last doubt with their explicit (albeit rather bizarre) request - Why don't we do it in the road?
Oddly enough though, it didn't seem all that dirty back then. Risque perhaps, but not dirty. In the 50's, parents were shocked and young girls thrilled at the antics of Elvis "The Pelvis" Presley. His gyrations prompted many a father to change the channel, much to the dismay of his daughter (and probably his wife.)
But the lyrics of songs today are increasingly outright pornographic. Man, if only my father were alive. To hear me complain about the music kids listen to? It's just as well that he's dead. He'd have a heart attack from dancing in joy to hear me talk like this.
Seriously, as much as I like calculus, there has to be a limit on limits. Many lyrics in top-ten songs these days can't even be printed in the newspaper. I'm not really sure how explicit I can get in my column without having it censored, but hey, let's give it a try and see. Just remember, these lyrics are verbatim from songs that your twelve-year old daughter listens to.
For example, consider Rihanna's hit song "Rude". How appropriate of a title. Its lyrics include: "Come on rude boy! Is you big enough? Take it! Take it! Tonight I'mma let you do your thing. I'mma let you be a rider. Giddy up! Giddy up, babe!"
Another top hit on the pop chart is "California Gurls" by Katy Perry. "I know a place where the grass is really greener. Warm, wet and wild. Laying underneath the palm trees. The boys break their necks try'na to creep a little sneak peek."
No innuendos there, huh? Even my 8th grade niece understands that one.
Let's not forget the Queen of Vile, Lady "Gag Gag". A couple lines from Bad Romance - "I want your psycho, your vertigo stick. Want you in my rear window."
Then there's Eminem. I won't even bother trying to write out his lyrics. The print machines at the newspaper office would have a melt down.
And finally, let's try a few lyrics from Ciara and Ludacris's hit, "Ride". Uh, the title kind of gives it away, doesn't it? I won't bother grossing you out with the explicit lyrics. How about a quick sampling of words from the song? Big - hard - ride - rollercoaster - scream - thoroughbred - again - again - again - touchdown - score!
Whatever happened to nice clean music that actually sounds good? Aside from the outright vulgarity, many of these songs are simply bad. I mean, they're just not good music.
And why is it acceptable to play this sewage on the radio? If I listed out the explicit lyrics in many of these songs, they couldn't print it. If you were to sing one of these songs while walking around Ashley Pond, you could get arrested for public indecency. And yet these are the words sung out proudly (and for lots of money) by the role models for our children. These are the songs that fill the iPods in the Middle School playground.
The lyrics for "I've got a feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas pretty much sums up the mentality of modern day music. And yes, this is verbatim - "Let's Do it. Let's Do it. Let's Do it. Let's Do it. And do it. And do it. Let's live it up. And do it. And do it. And do it do it do it. Let's do it. Let's do it. Let's do it."
But let's allow Cole Porter to have the last word here. "Cold Cape Cod clams, 'gainst their wish, do it. Even lazy jellyfish do it. Let's do it, let's fall in love."
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
The Weaker Soldier?
Recent discussions by the US military citing homosexuality as immoral have once again launched the debate on gays in the military. Our Generals prefer to leave the current policy as is - Don't ask, don't tell, but let them fight (and die) for their country in Iraq and Afghanistan.
It's an interesting debate, and clearly I'm biased on the side of open admissions. But sound debate merits sound thinking, and if you strip away the rhetoric and emotional reactions, this issue is quite typical of the provincial mentality throughout our military's history. It's not really all that surprising that the military would resist any change. If one thing never changes, it's their resisting change.
But what is or should be surprising is how little is being said in the mainstream media about the current status of women in our military. Understanding the historic journey of women in the military may offer insight to the future battle facing gays in the military.
Women have been serving in or alongside our military since the Declaration of Independence. For most of our history, women were relegated to washing clothes, nursing, cleaning bedpans for sick soldiers, and cooking for the soldiers.
It took a world war, two actually, to prompt Congress to officially welcome women into military service. Congress approved the creation of the WAAC in 1942. And yet, it wasn't until 1948 that President Truman authorized the Women's Army Corps as a permanent part of the Army.
When we shifted to an all-volunteer military in 1973, the Army began recruiting women aggressively for its Reserve components. By 1974, the minimum age for women was made the same as for men. By 1975, the military no longer mandated involuntary discharge of women because of pregnancy and parenthood. By 1976, tours of overseas duty were increased from twenty-four months to thirty-six months for single females, the same as for single males. And by 1977, Fort McClennan initiated its first gender-integrated training class for Military Police.
Today, women account for approximately 15% of our armed forces (20% of the Air Force). In a mere 60 years, women have gone from WAAC to equal partners in the job of defending our nation ... NOT! As commonly known in the world of tautologies, not all equals are created equal.
Women in the military have opportunities equal to men for receiving defensive weapons training, but can not be assigned to direct combat positions. Women can work as pilots, intelligence officers, logistic specialists, in support roles for the infantry, as paratroopers and mechanics, but not in direct combat. Women are also restricted from serving in front-line infantry, tank or artillery units, and in Special Forces units.
So it's okay to have women serve as police officers in our communities, run multi-billion dollar corporations, work as surgeons and cut into our bodies, work as engineers and design our bridges and tunnels, and build them too! Women can pilot commercial airplanes, preach in churches, defend clients in courtrooms, hold political positions affecting the lives of tens of millions of people. They can even manufacture weapons and run for President. They just can't participate in front-line direct combat.
In the new reality of dispersed aggressive tactics, how does one define "direct combat" or "front line"? Is everything outside Baghdad's Green Zone the front line? With increasingly sophisticated IEDs, does every road, building and vehicle constitute direct combat?
The military does not go into great detail to explain their reasoning. Is the fear that women are weaker than men? Do the Generals worry about having to deal with "the monthly problem"? Or is it that our military fears the stigma of having gun toting soldiers getting pregnant?
Do they fear that women will dilute their testosterone-rich environment? Sorry Captain, I can't go attack the enemy at the moment. My cramps are killing me! Has the US military ever done a study on the effects of circumcision on the fighting abilities of men? Do left-handed people make better snipers? What about bellybuttons? Do you suppose that innies might make better officers than outies?
Where do we draw the line? Or is it simply ridiculous to draw these lines at all? Having survived the Victorian Age, isn't civilization ready to give women equal opportunity in war? Does the ability to lactate somehow make you less effective in the heat of battle? Is it sexist to let women fight, and even die, for our country?
At the time I wrote this, 129 women in our military have died in Iraq and Afghanistan out of 5605 total casualties.
It's an interesting debate, and clearly I'm biased on the side of open admissions. But sound debate merits sound thinking, and if you strip away the rhetoric and emotional reactions, this issue is quite typical of the provincial mentality throughout our military's history. It's not really all that surprising that the military would resist any change. If one thing never changes, it's their resisting change.
But what is or should be surprising is how little is being said in the mainstream media about the current status of women in our military. Understanding the historic journey of women in the military may offer insight to the future battle facing gays in the military.
Women have been serving in or alongside our military since the Declaration of Independence. For most of our history, women were relegated to washing clothes, nursing, cleaning bedpans for sick soldiers, and cooking for the soldiers.
It took a world war, two actually, to prompt Congress to officially welcome women into military service. Congress approved the creation of the WAAC in 1942. And yet, it wasn't until 1948 that President Truman authorized the Women's Army Corps as a permanent part of the Army.
When we shifted to an all-volunteer military in 1973, the Army began recruiting women aggressively for its Reserve components. By 1974, the minimum age for women was made the same as for men. By 1975, the military no longer mandated involuntary discharge of women because of pregnancy and parenthood. By 1976, tours of overseas duty were increased from twenty-four months to thirty-six months for single females, the same as for single males. And by 1977, Fort McClennan initiated its first gender-integrated training class for Military Police.
Today, women account for approximately 15% of our armed forces (20% of the Air Force). In a mere 60 years, women have gone from WAAC to equal partners in the job of defending our nation ... NOT! As commonly known in the world of tautologies, not all equals are created equal.
Women in the military have opportunities equal to men for receiving defensive weapons training, but can not be assigned to direct combat positions. Women can work as pilots, intelligence officers, logistic specialists, in support roles for the infantry, as paratroopers and mechanics, but not in direct combat. Women are also restricted from serving in front-line infantry, tank or artillery units, and in Special Forces units.
So it's okay to have women serve as police officers in our communities, run multi-billion dollar corporations, work as surgeons and cut into our bodies, work as engineers and design our bridges and tunnels, and build them too! Women can pilot commercial airplanes, preach in churches, defend clients in courtrooms, hold political positions affecting the lives of tens of millions of people. They can even manufacture weapons and run for President. They just can't participate in front-line direct combat.
In the new reality of dispersed aggressive tactics, how does one define "direct combat" or "front line"? Is everything outside Baghdad's Green Zone the front line? With increasingly sophisticated IEDs, does every road, building and vehicle constitute direct combat?
The military does not go into great detail to explain their reasoning. Is the fear that women are weaker than men? Do the Generals worry about having to deal with "the monthly problem"? Or is it that our military fears the stigma of having gun toting soldiers getting pregnant?
Do they fear that women will dilute their testosterone-rich environment? Sorry Captain, I can't go attack the enemy at the moment. My cramps are killing me! Has the US military ever done a study on the effects of circumcision on the fighting abilities of men? Do left-handed people make better snipers? What about bellybuttons? Do you suppose that innies might make better officers than outies?
Where do we draw the line? Or is it simply ridiculous to draw these lines at all? Having survived the Victorian Age, isn't civilization ready to give women equal opportunity in war? Does the ability to lactate somehow make you less effective in the heat of battle? Is it sexist to let women fight, and even die, for our country?
At the time I wrote this, 129 women in our military have died in Iraq and Afghanistan out of 5605 total casualties.
Friday, July 30, 2010
And The Band Plays On
In early June, our minds were filled with visions of the coming summer months. Vacations to plan. Gardens to weed. Garages to clean out. As we soak up what's left of the summer sun (and rejoice at the monsoons finally arriving), it's difficult to even think back to June, isn't it? Well, let's give it a shot.
June 7, 2010 - Steve Jobs introduces the latest iPhone to an Apple-hungry audience in San Francisco. A frock worn by Princess Diana is put on the London's Pall Mall auction block and is expected to fetch $72,000. A remake of The Karate Kid starring Jackie Chan and Jaden Smith premieres in Hollywood.
Each of these news stories captured our attention. With only three weeks notice, Apple fanatics began preparing chairs and sleeping bags for their line-standing vigil. British who design their days around the lives of royalty held their breath at the chance of seeing a skirt worn by Diana sold to some rich commoner. And what better way to spice up our otherwise boring existence than yet another karate movie?
June 7, 2010 - Workers are putting up banners at Soccer City Stadium in preparation for the FIFA Soccer World Cup starting next week. White House reporter Helen Thomas announces her retirement. The Dow falls 115 points to 9816, a seven month low. Prince Charles' doctor says the Prince of Wales will miss the Royal Ascot next week so that he can recover from a chest infection.
Yep, just another typical day.
June 7, 2010 - Israeli commandos seize the Rachel Corrie, a humanitarian ship carrying 1,000 tons of medical and construction supplies headed to the Gaza. The all-female rock group, The Pixies, cancels an upcoming concert in Israel in protest of the Israeli assault on the Free Gaza flotilla. And at MTV's 19th Movie Awards ceremony, Sandra Bullock shocked the audience when she wet-mouth kissed Scarlett Johansson.
And the band played on.
June 7, 2010 - President Obama nominates James Clapper Jr. as Director of National Intelligence, replacing Dennis Blair who resigned in late May. The Democratic Republic of Congo places police chief John Numbi under house arrest as they investigate the the murder of the human rights campaigner Floribert Chebeya. The US Embassy is demanding an investigation into the Israeli military shooting of Emily Henochowica, a US citizen who lost an eye after being shot during a protest in the West Bank.
The day was an ordinary day, twenty-four hours long, nothing meriting any particular notice. With oil flowing into the gulf now for 49 days, BP officials continue to look for a way to stop the leak. Cuban folk singer Silvio Rodriguez, known as the voice of the Cuban revolution, performs in the United States (in Carnegie Hall) for the first time since 1980.
It was just another day. Americans listened to their music, complained about the oily beaches, struggled to decide who to vote for on American Idol, debated politics, and kvetched that ice cream manufacturers have quietly reduced the size of their containers from one-half gallon to three pints. Little time was spent discussing Charles S. Jirtle.
June 7th, 2010 - Charles S. Jirtle, born in Lawton, Oklahoma, attended MacArthur High School and served in the 2nd Battalion, 327th Infantry regiment of the US Army. Jirtle died of wounds suffered when enemy forces attacked his vehicle with an improvised explosive device in Konar, Afghanistan. Also killed in the attack were Sgt. Joshua A. Lukeala, Spc. Matthew R. Catlett, and Spc. Blaine E. Redding. Jirtle was 29 years old and is survived by his wife, Savannah, and three children. His wife was pregnant with their fourth child when he died in Afghanistan.
Jirtle was the 5500th American soldier to lose his life in the nearly 9-year old conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Do we have to read another rant about soldiers dying over there? I just thought that with people's fascination for nice round numbers, Jirtle would have gotten more attention. But hey, I suppose watching endless clips of Sandra Bullock french kiss Scarlette Johansson makes for better press.
June 7, 2010 - Steve Jobs introduces the latest iPhone to an Apple-hungry audience in San Francisco. A frock worn by Princess Diana is put on the London's Pall Mall auction block and is expected to fetch $72,000. A remake of The Karate Kid starring Jackie Chan and Jaden Smith premieres in Hollywood.
Each of these news stories captured our attention. With only three weeks notice, Apple fanatics began preparing chairs and sleeping bags for their line-standing vigil. British who design their days around the lives of royalty held their breath at the chance of seeing a skirt worn by Diana sold to some rich commoner. And what better way to spice up our otherwise boring existence than yet another karate movie?
June 7, 2010 - Workers are putting up banners at Soccer City Stadium in preparation for the FIFA Soccer World Cup starting next week. White House reporter Helen Thomas announces her retirement. The Dow falls 115 points to 9816, a seven month low. Prince Charles' doctor says the Prince of Wales will miss the Royal Ascot next week so that he can recover from a chest infection.
Yep, just another typical day.
June 7, 2010 - Israeli commandos seize the Rachel Corrie, a humanitarian ship carrying 1,000 tons of medical and construction supplies headed to the Gaza. The all-female rock group, The Pixies, cancels an upcoming concert in Israel in protest of the Israeli assault on the Free Gaza flotilla. And at MTV's 19th Movie Awards ceremony, Sandra Bullock shocked the audience when she wet-mouth kissed Scarlett Johansson.
And the band played on.
June 7, 2010 - President Obama nominates James Clapper Jr. as Director of National Intelligence, replacing Dennis Blair who resigned in late May. The Democratic Republic of Congo places police chief John Numbi under house arrest as they investigate the the murder of the human rights campaigner Floribert Chebeya. The US Embassy is demanding an investigation into the Israeli military shooting of Emily Henochowica, a US citizen who lost an eye after being shot during a protest in the West Bank.
The day was an ordinary day, twenty-four hours long, nothing meriting any particular notice. With oil flowing into the gulf now for 49 days, BP officials continue to look for a way to stop the leak. Cuban folk singer Silvio Rodriguez, known as the voice of the Cuban revolution, performs in the United States (in Carnegie Hall) for the first time since 1980.
It was just another day. Americans listened to their music, complained about the oily beaches, struggled to decide who to vote for on American Idol, debated politics, and kvetched that ice cream manufacturers have quietly reduced the size of their containers from one-half gallon to three pints. Little time was spent discussing Charles S. Jirtle.
June 7th, 2010 - Charles S. Jirtle, born in Lawton, Oklahoma, attended MacArthur High School and served in the 2nd Battalion, 327th Infantry regiment of the US Army. Jirtle died of wounds suffered when enemy forces attacked his vehicle with an improvised explosive device in Konar, Afghanistan. Also killed in the attack were Sgt. Joshua A. Lukeala, Spc. Matthew R. Catlett, and Spc. Blaine E. Redding. Jirtle was 29 years old and is survived by his wife, Savannah, and three children. His wife was pregnant with their fourth child when he died in Afghanistan.
Jirtle was the 5500th American soldier to lose his life in the nearly 9-year old conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Do we have to read another rant about soldiers dying over there? I just thought that with people's fascination for nice round numbers, Jirtle would have gotten more attention. But hey, I suppose watching endless clips of Sandra Bullock french kiss Scarlette Johansson makes for better press.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
@$^%#!* Enough Already!
When did swearing become accepted in our society? Linguistic anthropologists can probably tell us exactly how swearing evolved over the ages, but that's not what I'm asking. It's just that I seem to remember swearing as being far less omnipresent when I was younger. When did it become accepted, even fashionable, to swear? Jesse Jackson's recent "whispered outburst" of the N-word did make the news, but no one is lobbying Congress to have his mouth washed out with soap. When Vice President Cheney told Senator Pat Leahy to ... well, you know ... and on the Senate floor no less, it barely prompted people to shrug. When did it all change?
Look, I'm not a prude. Those who know me would confirm that I am neither modest in speech nor in behavior. In fact, I'm not modest in any sense of the word. I swear I'm not.
But I do digress, I swear I do. See, what I wanted to talk about was swearing. I mean, cursing. Look, it doesn't bother me if someone who stubs their toe chooses to volley a few choice words at the offending object that just destroyed their favorite metatarsal. It's only human to cry out when in pain. After this year's performance in the stock market, I'm sure that lots of people are crying.
Even without broken little piggies, I have no inherent problem with swearing. Vulgarity does has purpose and value. I just think that there's a time and a place for cursing, but in recent years, the time seems to be always and the place everywhere. Whether watching a movie or a so-called comedian, you find yourself inundated with pound signs, at-signs, exclamations points and asterisks. Do you $@%!# know what I #%@!$ mean?
Now really, can anyone tell me why a comedian feels the need to curse to be funny? Why did the %#$!@* chicken cross the %*@$!# road? After your eardrums heal from the onslaught of the question, I suppose any answer is funny?
Another question - is there some kind of contest out there for how many times one can curse in a single movie? Years back, I saw "Scarface" and I must admit, I enjoyed the movie. It was violent and graphic and extremely vulgar. In under three hours, the f-word was uttered (yelled, actually) 207 times. That was probably a new world record. Well, move over Mister Montana and say hello to my little $#!#@ friend! The champions of tongue thrashing have removed all limits of LID (Linguistic Imprecating Density). The three box office hits (Casino, Running Scared, Goodfellas) together boasted a total of over 1000 "utterances", and the movie F*** had the f-word 857 times in just 93 minutes. That's one $%#!@ every 6 1/2 seconds!
And vulgarity is by no means limited to movies and comedians. Have you recently strolled through a comic book store and read some of what sells as "comic" literature? Yes, I'm talking about comic books. You know, those low-brow "graphic novels" we used to buy for twelve cents (now they cost upwards to $3) with cute little characters like Archie and Friends? Now, if you can get by the exaggerated depictions of nearly bare anatomy and explosive violence that saturates some comic books, you still have to deal with explicit language that could make even a Vice-President blush.
But perhaps the true vulgarity lies in the flip side of this issue, the veneer of acceptability that engulfs our world today, much like taking a pedophile and dressing him up as an arsonist for Halloween. I'm talking about mock censorship of vulgarity while violence and cruelty are blithely shown as a matter of course.
Consider the network's airing episodes of "The Sopranos." While merrily showing explicit violence, the network took great care to replace any swearing with clever euphemisms. Somehow, it just doesn't fly when Tony is pistol whipping someone and yelling, "Forget you! Forget you! Forget you!" Do censors believe that we'll "forget" what's really being said?
And when Jesse Jackson's tirade was aired on network television, do you know what word they censored? The N-word. No, no, the OTHER N-word. What was aired was Jackson saying, "I'd like to cut his (bleep) off!" I thought, "Crikey, he wants to cut his nose off? His necktie? What does he want to cut off?" Enquiring minds want to know!
Where the $#!@% was I going with this anyhow? Oh yeah, I'm $#@! fed up with all the @%!$# swearing! I mean, what's the @$!#% point? As Bette Midler once said, "Forget them if they can't take a joke!"
Look, I'm not a prude. Those who know me would confirm that I am neither modest in speech nor in behavior. In fact, I'm not modest in any sense of the word. I swear I'm not.
But I do digress, I swear I do. See, what I wanted to talk about was swearing. I mean, cursing. Look, it doesn't bother me if someone who stubs their toe chooses to volley a few choice words at the offending object that just destroyed their favorite metatarsal. It's only human to cry out when in pain. After this year's performance in the stock market, I'm sure that lots of people are crying.
Even without broken little piggies, I have no inherent problem with swearing. Vulgarity does has purpose and value. I just think that there's a time and a place for cursing, but in recent years, the time seems to be always and the place everywhere. Whether watching a movie or a so-called comedian, you find yourself inundated with pound signs, at-signs, exclamations points and asterisks. Do you $@%!# know what I #%@!$ mean?
Now really, can anyone tell me why a comedian feels the need to curse to be funny? Why did the %#$!@* chicken cross the %*@$!# road? After your eardrums heal from the onslaught of the question, I suppose any answer is funny?
Another question - is there some kind of contest out there for how many times one can curse in a single movie? Years back, I saw "Scarface" and I must admit, I enjoyed the movie. It was violent and graphic and extremely vulgar. In under three hours, the f-word was uttered (yelled, actually) 207 times. That was probably a new world record. Well, move over Mister Montana and say hello to my little $#!#@ friend! The champions of tongue thrashing have removed all limits of LID (Linguistic Imprecating Density). The three box office hits (Casino, Running Scared, Goodfellas) together boasted a total of over 1000 "utterances", and the movie F*** had the f-word 857 times in just 93 minutes. That's one $%#!@ every 6 1/2 seconds!
And vulgarity is by no means limited to movies and comedians. Have you recently strolled through a comic book store and read some of what sells as "comic" literature? Yes, I'm talking about comic books. You know, those low-brow "graphic novels" we used to buy for twelve cents (now they cost upwards to $3) with cute little characters like Archie and Friends? Now, if you can get by the exaggerated depictions of nearly bare anatomy and explosive violence that saturates some comic books, you still have to deal with explicit language that could make even a Vice-President blush.
But perhaps the true vulgarity lies in the flip side of this issue, the veneer of acceptability that engulfs our world today, much like taking a pedophile and dressing him up as an arsonist for Halloween. I'm talking about mock censorship of vulgarity while violence and cruelty are blithely shown as a matter of course.
Consider the network's airing episodes of "The Sopranos." While merrily showing explicit violence, the network took great care to replace any swearing with clever euphemisms. Somehow, it just doesn't fly when Tony is pistol whipping someone and yelling, "Forget you! Forget you! Forget you!" Do censors believe that we'll "forget" what's really being said?
And when Jesse Jackson's tirade was aired on network television, do you know what word they censored? The N-word. No, no, the OTHER N-word. What was aired was Jackson saying, "I'd like to cut his (bleep) off!" I thought, "Crikey, he wants to cut his nose off? His necktie? What does he want to cut off?" Enquiring minds want to know!
Where the $#!@% was I going with this anyhow? Oh yeah, I'm $#@! fed up with all the @%!$# swearing! I mean, what's the @$!#% point? As Bette Midler once said, "Forget them if they can't take a joke!"
Monday, July 19, 2010
Can You Hear Me Now?
On my way back from visiting family in New York, the passengers were seated and waiting for our plane to depart. We were delayed and as we sat there, a man was talking on his cell phone to his friend Dan. Well, yelling on his phone is a bit more accurate.
Whoa! A Mercedes C300? No way! Dan, you da man! You da man, Dan! I can't wait to see Mark's face when you bring that to work! Yeah, man, park in his spot! You da man, Dan! But you gotta replace those speakers, put in Infinities! Harmon Kardons are okay, but Infinities kick! Did you get the leather? What color? Oh yeah, that's good! You! Are! The! Man!
As I sat there, I got to know a lot about Dan. He lives somewhere in Dallas and is going out with a girl named Ariana. His favorite color is blue and he works at a financial consulting firm. He's traveling to London in August and he loves sushi. Yeah, all of us passengers on that flight know Dan quite well now. Oh, and did I mention; he da man?
Later, when we were disembarking, I called out to the bipedal mouth and said, "Tell Dan that the C300 was a great choice. And we all hope his hearing problem gets better!" The mouth gave me a puzzled look and so I added, "Well, we all assumed that you were yelling like a rabid banshee because Dan doesn't hear very well." The smiles from other passengers affirmed that we had all been thinking the same thing; we wanted to tie this guy down and blow a few dozen vuvuzelas in his ear for the duration of the flight. Noise pollution is at epidemic proportions and the FIFA World Cup games are just the tip of the deafening iceberg our lives are crashing into lately.
I have no problem with someone talking in public on a cell phone. I just don't want to be an unwilling silent (and suffering) participant in the conversation. It's particularly annoying in places where I find myself a captive audience to poetic monologues of their never-interesting lives. There must be some genetic relationship between having huge lungs and not understanding the concept of a phone's volume button.
Like cuisines of the world, noise comes in many different shapes and flavors. Vuvuzelas seem to be the choice entree at the noise table in South Africa. These plastic monstrosities bellow out at 120 decibels (ten times louder than a chainsaw). The use of these portable air raid sirens was defended as a "musical tradition" of the country. That's like validating cigarette smoking as a tribute to Native American history of smoke signals.
Back in New Jersey, noise pollution is the norm. One has to deal with low flying commercial airplanes, car alarms, road work crews, the constant droning of leaf blowers, and the constant droning of neighbors yelling at someone to turn off the leaf blower. And if you live in the cities, there's the occasional car crashes and gunfire.
But sometimes, it's not much better over here. Outside my house, a motorcycle rider entertains the neighborhood with his vuvuzela-like exhaust. I suspect that he paid extra to have specially designed pipes installed to maximize the disturbance. Later on, we're treated to the bad taste in music by some numnuts driving his boom car. I can't help but think that he's desperately trying to overcompensate for some other deficiency. Well, either that, or he's just a moron.
And of course, an occasional boom from the Labs' test area shakes the area and gets the dogs barking. The noise police don't seem to be doing anything to quiet those test explosions, or to quiet boom cars, or noisy motorcycles, but they have taken stern steps to stop dogs from barking. Yes, with 18,000 people living in Los Alamos County, we certainly wouldn't want to ever hear a dog bark.
Look, it could be worse. Someone could cross breed a hound dog with a vuvuzela. Let's enjoy what we have.
Whoa! A Mercedes C300? No way! Dan, you da man! You da man, Dan! I can't wait to see Mark's face when you bring that to work! Yeah, man, park in his spot! You da man, Dan! But you gotta replace those speakers, put in Infinities! Harmon Kardons are okay, but Infinities kick! Did you get the leather? What color? Oh yeah, that's good! You! Are! The! Man!
As I sat there, I got to know a lot about Dan. He lives somewhere in Dallas and is going out with a girl named Ariana. His favorite color is blue and he works at a financial consulting firm. He's traveling to London in August and he loves sushi. Yeah, all of us passengers on that flight know Dan quite well now. Oh, and did I mention; he da man?
Later, when we were disembarking, I called out to the bipedal mouth and said, "Tell Dan that the C300 was a great choice. And we all hope his hearing problem gets better!" The mouth gave me a puzzled look and so I added, "Well, we all assumed that you were yelling like a rabid banshee because Dan doesn't hear very well." The smiles from other passengers affirmed that we had all been thinking the same thing; we wanted to tie this guy down and blow a few dozen vuvuzelas in his ear for the duration of the flight. Noise pollution is at epidemic proportions and the FIFA World Cup games are just the tip of the deafening iceberg our lives are crashing into lately.
I have no problem with someone talking in public on a cell phone. I just don't want to be an unwilling silent (and suffering) participant in the conversation. It's particularly annoying in places where I find myself a captive audience to poetic monologues of their never-interesting lives. There must be some genetic relationship between having huge lungs and not understanding the concept of a phone's volume button.
Like cuisines of the world, noise comes in many different shapes and flavors. Vuvuzelas seem to be the choice entree at the noise table in South Africa. These plastic monstrosities bellow out at 120 decibels (ten times louder than a chainsaw). The use of these portable air raid sirens was defended as a "musical tradition" of the country. That's like validating cigarette smoking as a tribute to Native American history of smoke signals.
Back in New Jersey, noise pollution is the norm. One has to deal with low flying commercial airplanes, car alarms, road work crews, the constant droning of leaf blowers, and the constant droning of neighbors yelling at someone to turn off the leaf blower. And if you live in the cities, there's the occasional car crashes and gunfire.
But sometimes, it's not much better over here. Outside my house, a motorcycle rider entertains the neighborhood with his vuvuzela-like exhaust. I suspect that he paid extra to have specially designed pipes installed to maximize the disturbance. Later on, we're treated to the bad taste in music by some numnuts driving his boom car. I can't help but think that he's desperately trying to overcompensate for some other deficiency. Well, either that, or he's just a moron.
And of course, an occasional boom from the Labs' test area shakes the area and gets the dogs barking. The noise police don't seem to be doing anything to quiet those test explosions, or to quiet boom cars, or noisy motorcycles, but they have taken stern steps to stop dogs from barking. Yes, with 18,000 people living in Los Alamos County, we certainly wouldn't want to ever hear a dog bark.
Look, it could be worse. Someone could cross breed a hound dog with a vuvuzela. Let's enjoy what we have.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Raising Fearizona
Greek playwright Aeschylus is recognized as the father of tragedy. He once noted, "He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain, which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God."
Oh yeah, clearly this guy wasn't big on comedy. He did however recognize that true understanding is often super-glued to a swift kick in the head. Who wants wisdom if you have to listen to that darn dripping noise of common reason all night long?
This underscores the genius of voter manipulation by name design. Do you want to pass a bill in Congress? Then name it the "Love America and Protect Our Children From Radioactive Mutant Tree Sloths" bill. Anyone who votes against it must not love America. Either that or they must want to throw your children into the leaf eating jaws of death! What's the bill about? Oh, it's to approve $120 Billion in adjunct spending on refitting helicopter landing gear. Now back to the bill. You don't want arboreals feeding on the brains of our children, do you?
We don't kill dogs. We put them to sleep. People don't die. They're dearly departed. Soldiers don't get their legs blown off. They become walking challenged. We're a nation addicted to euphemisms. Common English is uncommon and when we say that we mean what we say, what we mean to say is what we say means very little. (try saying that really fast three times)
And so Arizona Senate Bill 1070, euphemistically called the "Support Our Law Enforcement and Safe Neighborhoods Act", was signed into law on April 23, 2010 (effective on July 29). Its stated purpose is a "policy of attrition", defined by Arizona poets to "discourage and deter the unlawful entry and presence of aliens." This law empowers police to demand identification from anyone whom they suspect might be an illegal alien. (Run ET! Run home!)
Identification can be demanded if "reasonable suspicion" exists. On the streets of Arizona, this translates to "Ihre papiere, Auslander! Raus!" Having exorcised these demonic portals, Fearizonians can then reclaim jobs that had been stolen away by those bloodsucking trolls. Yes, they can now gain meaningful employment in the slaughterhouses, picking lettuce, the sweatshops, cleaning bathrooms, washing dishes.
Lest you think otherwise, I don't want illegal aliens in our country. Illegal immigration is a real problem and needs a real solution. Surprisingly enough, for several years now Arizona had already addressed this problem with an amazingly sensible solution. Arizona law mandates that all employers verify the US citizenship of anyone they hire. Arizona law also mandates that employers use E-Verify, a government provided database that ascertains citizenship of a prospective worker.
How simple can you get? For years, Arizona law has said -- "They're illegal? Don't hire them!" Unfortunately, this doesn't get votes and less than 10% of Arizona employers obey the law. Arizona employers continue to hire illegal aliens with impunity. Why then the sudden popularity of Senate Bill 1070? National security? A burning desire to protect our borders?
Don't kid yourself. It's all about votes. Nothing more. Fear sells and people buy it like ice cream on hot summer day. In response to federal immigration laws, Arizona Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio said, "You can have all the laws on the book, but you have to enforce the laws on the books!" Well Joe, why don't you enforce Arizona's law prohibiting the hiring of illegals? Huh Joe? Joe?
Yeah, they'll arrest a dozen illegals here and a dozen there, make a big show of it, and meanwhile they'll do nothing about all those slaughterhouses and farms and construction crews and landscapers in Arizona hiring illegals. If they were serious about solving this problem, they'd go after the people doing the hiring. Don't hold your breath waiting for that however. When they want to buy votes, they sell fear, not real solutions.
But this strategy worked well in the past and so why not use it again, right? Heil Arizona!
Oh yeah, clearly this guy wasn't big on comedy. He did however recognize that true understanding is often super-glued to a swift kick in the head. Who wants wisdom if you have to listen to that darn dripping noise of common reason all night long?
This underscores the genius of voter manipulation by name design. Do you want to pass a bill in Congress? Then name it the "Love America and Protect Our Children From Radioactive Mutant Tree Sloths" bill. Anyone who votes against it must not love America. Either that or they must want to throw your children into the leaf eating jaws of death! What's the bill about? Oh, it's to approve $120 Billion in adjunct spending on refitting helicopter landing gear. Now back to the bill. You don't want arboreals feeding on the brains of our children, do you?
We don't kill dogs. We put them to sleep. People don't die. They're dearly departed. Soldiers don't get their legs blown off. They become walking challenged. We're a nation addicted to euphemisms. Common English is uncommon and when we say that we mean what we say, what we mean to say is what we say means very little. (try saying that really fast three times)
And so Arizona Senate Bill 1070, euphemistically called the "Support Our Law Enforcement and Safe Neighborhoods Act", was signed into law on April 23, 2010 (effective on July 29). Its stated purpose is a "policy of attrition", defined by Arizona poets to "discourage and deter the unlawful entry and presence of aliens." This law empowers police to demand identification from anyone whom they suspect might be an illegal alien. (Run ET! Run home!)
Identification can be demanded if "reasonable suspicion" exists. On the streets of Arizona, this translates to "Ihre papiere, Auslander! Raus!" Having exorcised these demonic portals, Fearizonians can then reclaim jobs that had been stolen away by those bloodsucking trolls. Yes, they can now gain meaningful employment in the slaughterhouses, picking lettuce, the sweatshops, cleaning bathrooms, washing dishes.
Lest you think otherwise, I don't want illegal aliens in our country. Illegal immigration is a real problem and needs a real solution. Surprisingly enough, for several years now Arizona had already addressed this problem with an amazingly sensible solution. Arizona law mandates that all employers verify the US citizenship of anyone they hire. Arizona law also mandates that employers use E-Verify, a government provided database that ascertains citizenship of a prospective worker.
How simple can you get? For years, Arizona law has said -- "They're illegal? Don't hire them!" Unfortunately, this doesn't get votes and less than 10% of Arizona employers obey the law. Arizona employers continue to hire illegal aliens with impunity. Why then the sudden popularity of Senate Bill 1070? National security? A burning desire to protect our borders?
Don't kid yourself. It's all about votes. Nothing more. Fear sells and people buy it like ice cream on hot summer day. In response to federal immigration laws, Arizona Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio said, "You can have all the laws on the book, but you have to enforce the laws on the books!" Well Joe, why don't you enforce Arizona's law prohibiting the hiring of illegals? Huh Joe? Joe?
Yeah, they'll arrest a dozen illegals here and a dozen there, make a big show of it, and meanwhile they'll do nothing about all those slaughterhouses and farms and construction crews and landscapers in Arizona hiring illegals. If they were serious about solving this problem, they'd go after the people doing the hiring. Don't hold your breath waiting for that however. When they want to buy votes, they sell fear, not real solutions.
But this strategy worked well in the past and so why not use it again, right? Heil Arizona!
Saturday, July 10, 2010
It's A Strange World
And getting stranger every day. Sometimes I find myself shaking my head in such disbelief that I risk injuring myself. For example, I recently read about one of the latest drug crazes in the "club circuit". Men who go to these clubs like to tear their shirts off and show their rippling muscles to the women. Oh, you don't have rippling muscles? No problem! Simply rub phenylephrine HCL over your entire torso and your skin will tighten up, enhancing what muscles you do have. Don't know where to get phenylephrine HCL? Get it where all the other guys are getting it - at the drug store. It comes in a tube marked "Preparation H".
Not into Prep-H rubdowns? How about playing chess? Matching one's intellect against another's is always a thrill. But hey, let's make it more exciting. Let's punch out the other guy between moves. Yeah, that sounds like fun. Welcome to the questionable sport of chessboxing, a hybrid event in which opponents alternate between playing chess and boxing. A match consists of 11 rounds; 6 rounds of chess and 5 rounds of boxing. I really wish I was making this up, but sadly there are some very aggressive chess players out there.
The world of strange is not limited to dance clubs and over-caffeinated chess players. The scent industry announced "an amazing advancement" in odor technology. Japanese researchers can now produce vanillin from cow dung. Vanillin is the main component of vanilla flavor. The extracted vanillin will be used in shampoos and aromatic candles. The next time you wash your hair, ask yourself ... does this make any scents?
Just when I thought I had reached the stratosphere of strange, NASA announced, rather proudly I might add, that their Russian-made $19 million toilet was successfully installed onboard the Space Shuttle. Um, uh ... $19 million? Another news article quickly followed, stating that the toilet was broken. No mention was made as to how much it would cost to send a plumber up there to fix it.
Sometimes, people just seem to go out of their way to be strange. If they gave out awards for the truly bizarre, among the winners would be the Wenger company, manufacturer of the well known Swiss Army Knife. Wenger now offers a model, the Giant Knife, which provides an astounding assortment of 87 tools and 141 functions. This "pocket knife" is nearly 9 inches wide, weighs 3 pounds, and sports "the standard conveniences" such as a magnifying glass, Philips screwdriver, golf reamer, cigar cutter, laser pointer, fish scaler, and a spotlight. Oh yes, and a toothpick. Perhaps what is even stranger is that someone out there has a pocket that can handle this knife.
The art of strange is in no way limited to the US and Europe. Tired of fast food? Travel to China and enjoy pest food! Some regions of China suffer from a plague of rats (reported upwards of 2 billion) due to flooded lakes. The government of Hunan found a strange, if not inventive, solution to the problem; scoop them up and sell them in fancy restaurants! It's considered a delicacy and hungry customers are scurrying to eat them for the gnawing price of $9 a pound.
And then there are assorted stories that border between strange and just plain silly. An Iowa woman was arrested for stealing rolls of toilet paper from a courthouse (uh, she was hiding the rolls in her shirt). Her name ... Suzanne Butts. In Houston, firefighters came to the rescue when a woman called to report that her 2-year old baby was stuck in a sewer. When they arrived at the scene, the baby was in fact stuck in a sewer. Well, "Baby" was stuck. Baby is the name of the woman's cat.
Speaking of names, if you are having a baby (a human one) and you're having trouble naming him or her, you can now hire professional baby naming consultants. For the bargain price of around $500, a registered numerologist will wade into the nominative waters to determine what you should name your baby. I wonder how much they charge for "Gullible"?
Yes, the world is strange indeed. Well, I have some friends coming over. I think I'll go light up some cow dung candles to set the mood.
Not into Prep-H rubdowns? How about playing chess? Matching one's intellect against another's is always a thrill. But hey, let's make it more exciting. Let's punch out the other guy between moves. Yeah, that sounds like fun. Welcome to the questionable sport of chessboxing, a hybrid event in which opponents alternate between playing chess and boxing. A match consists of 11 rounds; 6 rounds of chess and 5 rounds of boxing. I really wish I was making this up, but sadly there are some very aggressive chess players out there.
The world of strange is not limited to dance clubs and over-caffeinated chess players. The scent industry announced "an amazing advancement" in odor technology. Japanese researchers can now produce vanillin from cow dung. Vanillin is the main component of vanilla flavor. The extracted vanillin will be used in shampoos and aromatic candles. The next time you wash your hair, ask yourself ... does this make any scents?
Just when I thought I had reached the stratosphere of strange, NASA announced, rather proudly I might add, that their Russian-made $19 million toilet was successfully installed onboard the Space Shuttle. Um, uh ... $19 million? Another news article quickly followed, stating that the toilet was broken. No mention was made as to how much it would cost to send a plumber up there to fix it.
Sometimes, people just seem to go out of their way to be strange. If they gave out awards for the truly bizarre, among the winners would be the Wenger company, manufacturer of the well known Swiss Army Knife. Wenger now offers a model, the Giant Knife, which provides an astounding assortment of 87 tools and 141 functions. This "pocket knife" is nearly 9 inches wide, weighs 3 pounds, and sports "the standard conveniences" such as a magnifying glass, Philips screwdriver, golf reamer, cigar cutter, laser pointer, fish scaler, and a spotlight. Oh yes, and a toothpick. Perhaps what is even stranger is that someone out there has a pocket that can handle this knife.
The art of strange is in no way limited to the US and Europe. Tired of fast food? Travel to China and enjoy pest food! Some regions of China suffer from a plague of rats (reported upwards of 2 billion) due to flooded lakes. The government of Hunan found a strange, if not inventive, solution to the problem; scoop them up and sell them in fancy restaurants! It's considered a delicacy and hungry customers are scurrying to eat them for the gnawing price of $9 a pound.
And then there are assorted stories that border between strange and just plain silly. An Iowa woman was arrested for stealing rolls of toilet paper from a courthouse (uh, she was hiding the rolls in her shirt). Her name ... Suzanne Butts. In Houston, firefighters came to the rescue when a woman called to report that her 2-year old baby was stuck in a sewer. When they arrived at the scene, the baby was in fact stuck in a sewer. Well, "Baby" was stuck. Baby is the name of the woman's cat.
Speaking of names, if you are having a baby (a human one) and you're having trouble naming him or her, you can now hire professional baby naming consultants. For the bargain price of around $500, a registered numerologist will wade into the nominative waters to determine what you should name your baby. I wonder how much they charge for "Gullible"?
Yes, the world is strange indeed. Well, I have some friends coming over. I think I'll go light up some cow dung candles to set the mood.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
We Pay For What We Value
Throughout our lives, there are those few special people who touch us in a way that sets them apart from all the others. For me, it was Mr. Eberhardt, Doc. Spooner, and Colonel Matheson. These three people helped shaped my way of thinking, gave me insight on my life and the world around me, and guided me towards adulthood. I will always remember them as life mentors. All three were teachers.
In the movie "Inherit the Wind", Gene Kelly's character is asked why he is working so hard to defend the school teacher indicted in the Monkey Trial. Kelly responds, "Because I know that the sunrise is an optical illusion." Then he flashes that million dollar smile and says, "My teacher taught me that!"
We pay for what we value, and sadly, today's society does not value teachers. Read Money Magazine's Top 50 Jobs in America, CNN's 35 Best Jobs in America, Forbes Best 40 Jobs, College Recruiter's Best 50 Jobs in America. Go ahead, pick any list, and if it has the word "best" in it, it will not include the word "teacher".
President Kennedy said, "Modern cynics and skeptics see no harm in paying those to whom they entrust the minds of their children a smaller wage than is paid to those to whom they entrust the care of their plumbing." Little has changed since that speech. Let's face it, society isn't just saying that it doesn't value teachers. It's yelling it!
A trillion dollars was spent on a foreign conflict fashioned to secure oil rights in the Middle East. People are ready (even eager) to spend tens of billions to build a wall along the Mexican border. Last year's defense budget sucked away $664 Billion and no one in Washington D.C. even blinked when signing the check. This year's defense budget is slated at $721 Billion.
Meanwhile, across the nation, educational cutbacks are the norm. As oil companies enjoy tens of billions of dollars in tax breaks, schools are scrounging for pencils and chalk. Classrooms are crowded, ongoing teacher training is negligible, overall academic performance is dropping, student dropout rates are rising, teacher retention rates are dismal, and politicians continue to preach the value of education even as fewer and fewer people can spell the word. Even here in Los Alamos, teachers took a pay cut last year rather than have some teachers lose their jobs. The money simply "wasn't available" to retain both teachers and pay. I would wager however that if a toilet in the Administration building had a leak, the school board would spend whatever it took to fix it. We pay for what we value. I suppose toilets are more valued under NCLB (No Commode Left Blocked).
A friend of mine complained about the "sweet deals" enjoyed by educators. He said he was irritated when he saw "school administrators and superintendents driving around in Lexus, Mercedes-Benz, Infinity and BMW vehicles while they complained about not having enough money for the kiddies". Oh yeah, for sure. You can't spit at our school without hitting a luxury car!
Now, I know that money is always hard to come by, and even more so in today's economy. But of all the possible strategies for fixing our problems, educational cutbacks are the most absurd. The dilution of American schools has already reduced our student performance to third world status. State and federal efforts to "maintain excellence in our schools" are little more than dog and pony shows. A few speeches, a handful of confetti, some photo-ops with educational research teams, all followed by more educational cuts.
Back in 1955, US historian and scholar Jacques Barzun warned, "Teaching is not a lost art, but the regard for it is a lost tradition." Mr. Barzun is still alive today (age 102 years!) and I doubt that he would be surprised at what's happening in our country. Bureaucrats rarely have the foresight to look beyond the next quarter (or even the next fifteen cents).
We pay for what we value. How often do you see the military having a bake sale to help pay its bills?
In the movie "Inherit the Wind", Gene Kelly's character is asked why he is working so hard to defend the school teacher indicted in the Monkey Trial. Kelly responds, "Because I know that the sunrise is an optical illusion." Then he flashes that million dollar smile and says, "My teacher taught me that!"
We pay for what we value, and sadly, today's society does not value teachers. Read Money Magazine's Top 50 Jobs in America, CNN's 35 Best Jobs in America, Forbes Best 40 Jobs, College Recruiter's Best 50 Jobs in America. Go ahead, pick any list, and if it has the word "best" in it, it will not include the word "teacher".
President Kennedy said, "Modern cynics and skeptics see no harm in paying those to whom they entrust the minds of their children a smaller wage than is paid to those to whom they entrust the care of their plumbing." Little has changed since that speech. Let's face it, society isn't just saying that it doesn't value teachers. It's yelling it!
A trillion dollars was spent on a foreign conflict fashioned to secure oil rights in the Middle East. People are ready (even eager) to spend tens of billions to build a wall along the Mexican border. Last year's defense budget sucked away $664 Billion and no one in Washington D.C. even blinked when signing the check. This year's defense budget is slated at $721 Billion.
Meanwhile, across the nation, educational cutbacks are the norm. As oil companies enjoy tens of billions of dollars in tax breaks, schools are scrounging for pencils and chalk. Classrooms are crowded, ongoing teacher training is negligible, overall academic performance is dropping, student dropout rates are rising, teacher retention rates are dismal, and politicians continue to preach the value of education even as fewer and fewer people can spell the word. Even here in Los Alamos, teachers took a pay cut last year rather than have some teachers lose their jobs. The money simply "wasn't available" to retain both teachers and pay. I would wager however that if a toilet in the Administration building had a leak, the school board would spend whatever it took to fix it. We pay for what we value. I suppose toilets are more valued under NCLB (No Commode Left Blocked).
A friend of mine complained about the "sweet deals" enjoyed by educators. He said he was irritated when he saw "school administrators and superintendents driving around in Lexus, Mercedes-Benz, Infinity and BMW vehicles while they complained about not having enough money for the kiddies". Oh yeah, for sure. You can't spit at our school without hitting a luxury car!
Now, I know that money is always hard to come by, and even more so in today's economy. But of all the possible strategies for fixing our problems, educational cutbacks are the most absurd. The dilution of American schools has already reduced our student performance to third world status. State and federal efforts to "maintain excellence in our schools" are little more than dog and pony shows. A few speeches, a handful of confetti, some photo-ops with educational research teams, all followed by more educational cuts.
Back in 1955, US historian and scholar Jacques Barzun warned, "Teaching is not a lost art, but the regard for it is a lost tradition." Mr. Barzun is still alive today (age 102 years!) and I doubt that he would be surprised at what's happening in our country. Bureaucrats rarely have the foresight to look beyond the next quarter (or even the next fifteen cents).
We pay for what we value. How often do you see the military having a bake sale to help pay its bills?
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Metric Mania
I give up! A 9/16ths nut is too tight for this bolt, and 5/8ths nut seems just a bit loose. Maybe I need a 19/32nds nut? And is this a UNC or machine style bolt? My shop book isn't helping. The flat is one eighth of the pitch? I'm beginning to understand why they keep referring to the shaft!
Standard measurements (as they are euphemistically called) are anything but that. Consider the old riddle, "Which weighs more, a pound of gold or a pound of feathers?" Oddly enough, the answer is different if I ask, "Which weighs more, an ounce of gold or an ounce of feathers?" A pound of feathers weighs more than a pound of gold, but an ounce of feathers weighs less than an ounce of gold. The problem is that we use the Avoirdupois system for weights, the English system for length, and a collage of approaches for volume. Can you even pronounce Avoirdupois?
We have 20 grains to a scruple, 3 scruples to a drachm, and 8 drachms to an ounce. There's 5280 feet per mile, 12 inches per foot, 16 1/2 feet to a rod, 43560 square feet per acre, 7.48 gallons per cubic foot, and ... darn, I can never remember how many furlongs to a fortnight! There's 12 drams to an ounce, 16 ounces to a pound, 14 pounds to a stone and two stones to a quarter. A quarter is just a tad less than a slug (does anyone really care how accurate a slug is?). I can imagine a farmer trying to sell his truckload of 200 stones of melons, but how many buyers would there be for a 100 slugs of fruit?
A fathom is 6 feet, a braza is 5.48 feet, and a league is a hair over 3 miles. Oh wait, is that survey miles, nautical miles, or Irish miles?
A barrel of crude oil has 42 US gallons (what does that convert to for civilized oil?). If we stop using oil and start using corn, maybe we should use bushels instead of barrels. A barrel happens to be 3.28 bushels. That translates to 12.8 gallons a bushel. Will mileage be computed as miles per bushel?
Please, oh please can't we just all go metric? It would be so much better for my aging brain. At the very least, I wouldn't have to own two sets of sockets. Yes, going metric would make many things in life so much easier ... by at least a factor of ten.
My wife likes to drag me on 3-mile walks. If we went metric, maybe I could cut that down to 3-kilometers. I really hate being 20 pounds overweight. In a metric world, I'd only be a tad over 9 kilograms overweight. I'll have that dish of ice cream, if you please!
Can you imagine how painful it's going to be to pay $5 a gallon for gasoline? If we went metric, we'd only have to pay $1.32 a liter. But it's not all good news. Just think of all those poor cowboys who would have to trade in their 10-gallon hats for 45 liter hats.
And of course, many well known measurements would need to be tweaked a bit. Football fields would be 91.44 meters long. Somehow, "the longest meter" just doesn't have the same ring to it. Children would be taught that 28.3 grams of prevention would be worth 0.45 kilograms of cure. And before you criticize a man, you will have to walk a kilometer in his shoes (or would you still have to walk the full 1.6 kilometers?)
Speaking of shoes, or feet, we'd find ourselves putting out best 30.48 centimeters forward. Would I get to tell people my height in centimeters? I've always wanted to be a giant. Well, like they say, give a person a centimeter and they'll take a kilometer.
Okay punk ... this is an 11.2 millimeter magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world. Do you feel like converting that to inches? Well, do you punk? Yardsticks? Yardsticks? We don't need no stinkin' yardsticks! You want the conversion? I want the apothecaries conversion! YOU can't HANDLE the apothecaries conversion!
Oh, uh, sorry about that. The thought of going totally metric gets my decimals shifting. No more driving at 65 mph. We metric fans drive at over 100 kph!
And the greatest benefit of all for converting to metric would be that we would then get ten bottles of beer in a six pack. Of course, for some people, none of this is an issue. Standard versus metric is all the same to them. It's half a dozen of one, five of the other.
Standard measurements (as they are euphemistically called) are anything but that. Consider the old riddle, "Which weighs more, a pound of gold or a pound of feathers?" Oddly enough, the answer is different if I ask, "Which weighs more, an ounce of gold or an ounce of feathers?" A pound of feathers weighs more than a pound of gold, but an ounce of feathers weighs less than an ounce of gold. The problem is that we use the Avoirdupois system for weights, the English system for length, and a collage of approaches for volume. Can you even pronounce Avoirdupois?
We have 20 grains to a scruple, 3 scruples to a drachm, and 8 drachms to an ounce. There's 5280 feet per mile, 12 inches per foot, 16 1/2 feet to a rod, 43560 square feet per acre, 7.48 gallons per cubic foot, and ... darn, I can never remember how many furlongs to a fortnight! There's 12 drams to an ounce, 16 ounces to a pound, 14 pounds to a stone and two stones to a quarter. A quarter is just a tad less than a slug (does anyone really care how accurate a slug is?). I can imagine a farmer trying to sell his truckload of 200 stones of melons, but how many buyers would there be for a 100 slugs of fruit?
A fathom is 6 feet, a braza is 5.48 feet, and a league is a hair over 3 miles. Oh wait, is that survey miles, nautical miles, or Irish miles?
A barrel of crude oil has 42 US gallons (what does that convert to for civilized oil?). If we stop using oil and start using corn, maybe we should use bushels instead of barrels. A barrel happens to be 3.28 bushels. That translates to 12.8 gallons a bushel. Will mileage be computed as miles per bushel?
Please, oh please can't we just all go metric? It would be so much better for my aging brain. At the very least, I wouldn't have to own two sets of sockets. Yes, going metric would make many things in life so much easier ... by at least a factor of ten.
My wife likes to drag me on 3-mile walks. If we went metric, maybe I could cut that down to 3-kilometers. I really hate being 20 pounds overweight. In a metric world, I'd only be a tad over 9 kilograms overweight. I'll have that dish of ice cream, if you please!
Can you imagine how painful it's going to be to pay $5 a gallon for gasoline? If we went metric, we'd only have to pay $1.32 a liter. But it's not all good news. Just think of all those poor cowboys who would have to trade in their 10-gallon hats for 45 liter hats.
And of course, many well known measurements would need to be tweaked a bit. Football fields would be 91.44 meters long. Somehow, "the longest meter" just doesn't have the same ring to it. Children would be taught that 28.3 grams of prevention would be worth 0.45 kilograms of cure. And before you criticize a man, you will have to walk a kilometer in his shoes (or would you still have to walk the full 1.6 kilometers?)
Speaking of shoes, or feet, we'd find ourselves putting out best 30.48 centimeters forward. Would I get to tell people my height in centimeters? I've always wanted to be a giant. Well, like they say, give a person a centimeter and they'll take a kilometer.
Okay punk ... this is an 11.2 millimeter magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world. Do you feel like converting that to inches? Well, do you punk? Yardsticks? Yardsticks? We don't need no stinkin' yardsticks! You want the conversion? I want the apothecaries conversion! YOU can't HANDLE the apothecaries conversion!
Oh, uh, sorry about that. The thought of going totally metric gets my decimals shifting. No more driving at 65 mph. We metric fans drive at over 100 kph!
And the greatest benefit of all for converting to metric would be that we would then get ten bottles of beer in a six pack. Of course, for some people, none of this is an issue. Standard versus metric is all the same to them. It's half a dozen of one, five of the other.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Don't Dis Da Flag
The Fourth of July always brings lively conversations to the picnic tables each year. How are the kids doing? Did you hear that Doreen got married? How is Aaron enjoying college? Burn any flags lately?
You don't hear much about flag burning during the rest of the year, but Independence Day seems to always throw fuel on the subject. And every year, people who couldn't tell you what the Ninth Amendment is if their life depended on it take a fervent stand against those burning the flag. And so with stars and stripes illuminating the background ... well, as they say, let the fireworks begin.
Burning the flag is primarily designed to provoke outrage. It does little to change anything and since most American flags these days are made in China, the worst aspect of burning a flag is the possibility of inhaling formaldehyde fumes. But actually, I don't want to talk about burning the flag. We'll save that for another day (after I move and get an unlisted address). What I'd like to do is discuss the daily desecration of the flag by people who otherwise think they are honoring it.
Proper treatment of the American flag is clearly enumerated in US Code Title 4 (Flag and Seal) and Title 36 (Patriotic Societies and Observances). The code defines a flag as "any flag, standard, colors, ensign, or any picture or representation of either, or of any part or parts of either, made of any substance or represented on any substance, of any size evidently purporting to be either of said flag, standard, colors, or ensign of the United States of America or a picture or a representation of either, upon which shall be shown the colors, the stars and the stripes, in any number of either thereof, or of any part or parts of either, by which the average person seeing the same without deliberation may believe the same to represent the flag, colors, standard, or ensign of the United States of America."
Now that's a mouthful! In short, it says that anything that looks like, resembles, is recognized as, or even reminds people of the flag ... is the flag.
For example, did you see all those American flag shirts being worn at the FIFA World Cup? US Code states that the flag "should never be used as wearing apparel" (except for military and police). Sports fans would probably debate that a shirt is not a flag, but how do you think they'd react if protesters burned flag shirts? No doubt they would be outraged. Hey sports fans ... read Title 4 and 36. You're desecrating the flag!
Models wear the flag like a shawl. Cowboys wear American flag bandannas. Bikers wear flag adorned helmets. Women strut on the beach with American flag bikinis. The American flag design is on towels, pants, hats, guitars, dog collars, and even underwear (yeah, thongs too!). These are all desecration of the flag. In 1983, Larry Flynt went to jail for wearing an American flag diaper in court. How come we aren't arresting all those rednecks wearing flags at rodeos?
The code is very specific. You can't use the flag for any commercial activities. You can't wear a flag. You can't write on a flag (like all those politicians who autograph flags?). You can't have the flag on any sports equipment. You can't use the flag design on napkins, picnic tablecloths, coffee cups, or pencils. Car dealers can't use flags to decorate their lots. The flag cannot be used for advertising in any way at any time.
If you think that these examples are nit-picking ... well, don't argue it with me. Find an ex-Marine and ask if it's okay for you lay out on the ground on a flag beach towel. See how many soldiers find it patriotic for you to wear a flag as a scarf. Ask a veteran if it's okay for you to wipe that hot dog relish off your face with a flag napkin.
Do you really want to honor the flag? Read the US Flag Code ... and have a great Independence Day!
You don't hear much about flag burning during the rest of the year, but Independence Day seems to always throw fuel on the subject. And every year, people who couldn't tell you what the Ninth Amendment is if their life depended on it take a fervent stand against those burning the flag. And so with stars and stripes illuminating the background ... well, as they say, let the fireworks begin.
Burning the flag is primarily designed to provoke outrage. It does little to change anything and since most American flags these days are made in China, the worst aspect of burning a flag is the possibility of inhaling formaldehyde fumes. But actually, I don't want to talk about burning the flag. We'll save that for another day (after I move and get an unlisted address). What I'd like to do is discuss the daily desecration of the flag by people who otherwise think they are honoring it.
Proper treatment of the American flag is clearly enumerated in US Code Title 4 (Flag and Seal) and Title 36 (Patriotic Societies and Observances). The code defines a flag as "any flag, standard, colors, ensign, or any picture or representation of either, or of any part or parts of either, made of any substance or represented on any substance, of any size evidently purporting to be either of said flag, standard, colors, or ensign of the United States of America or a picture or a representation of either, upon which shall be shown the colors, the stars and the stripes, in any number of either thereof, or of any part or parts of either, by which the average person seeing the same without deliberation may believe the same to represent the flag, colors, standard, or ensign of the United States of America."
Now that's a mouthful! In short, it says that anything that looks like, resembles, is recognized as, or even reminds people of the flag ... is the flag.
For example, did you see all those American flag shirts being worn at the FIFA World Cup? US Code states that the flag "should never be used as wearing apparel" (except for military and police). Sports fans would probably debate that a shirt is not a flag, but how do you think they'd react if protesters burned flag shirts? No doubt they would be outraged. Hey sports fans ... read Title 4 and 36. You're desecrating the flag!
Models wear the flag like a shawl. Cowboys wear American flag bandannas. Bikers wear flag adorned helmets. Women strut on the beach with American flag bikinis. The American flag design is on towels, pants, hats, guitars, dog collars, and even underwear (yeah, thongs too!). These are all desecration of the flag. In 1983, Larry Flynt went to jail for wearing an American flag diaper in court. How come we aren't arresting all those rednecks wearing flags at rodeos?
The code is very specific. You can't use the flag for any commercial activities. You can't wear a flag. You can't write on a flag (like all those politicians who autograph flags?). You can't have the flag on any sports equipment. You can't use the flag design on napkins, picnic tablecloths, coffee cups, or pencils. Car dealers can't use flags to decorate their lots. The flag cannot be used for advertising in any way at any time.
If you think that these examples are nit-picking ... well, don't argue it with me. Find an ex-Marine and ask if it's okay for you lay out on the ground on a flag beach towel. See how many soldiers find it patriotic for you to wear a flag as a scarf. Ask a veteran if it's okay for you to wipe that hot dog relish off your face with a flag napkin.
Do you really want to honor the flag? Read the US Flag Code ... and have a great Independence Day!
Friday, June 25, 2010
Learn Baby Learn!
Urtabulak and Ixtoc - two obscure names that can be found in the dusty (and unread) journals of historic blunders. Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Let's go back 47 years and see how little we've learned.
In 1963, a natural gas well in Urtabulak (southern Uzbekistan) burst into flames, shooting a burning pillar 400 feet into the air. The Soviets had not developed sufficient control mechanisms and so it burned for three years with 12 million cubic meters of gas burning every day (over three cubic miles of gas burned). After countless attempts and strategies to quell the fire, the Soviets finally found a solution in 1966 ... they nuked the well. As drastic as that may sound, it worked.
In 1979, an offshore oil rig (named Ixtoc) in the Bay of Campeche in the Gulf of Mexico exploded and leaked oil into the gulf for nine months, spilling a total of 150 million gallons of oil. The efforts to stop the leak were identical to those used by BP over the past month (submersible robots, dispersants, burning it off, boom floats, a huge containment dome, a heavy dumping cover, and finally drilling relief wells).
It's easy for people to blame BP for the recent oil spill disaster. They cut corners on quality and safety procedures to save a buck (a lot of bucks, actually). Sadly, when this is all over and becomes yet another line in a dusty unread history book, BP execs will probably get huge bonuses for finally containing the spill.
But back to the blame and lessons unlearned. Regressive politicians were quick to blame environmentalists for the spill (yeah, I had to read that several times myself before realizing it wasn't a joke). The bureaucratic MMS (Minerals Management Service) is another good blame-sink, rich in incompetence and corruption. The Bush-Cheney administration likewise deserves much of the blame as they presided over the reduction of oversight and drilling regulations (discounting the requirement for remote shut-off switches). And President Obama deserves some blame too. As they say, the buck stops there and it's only fair given that his administration caved to the "Drill Baby Drill" mantra and expanded the off-shore drilling efforts by ending the moratorium on oil exploration along the East coast.
Where was I? Oh yeah, who's the blame for this mess? Consider the damages ... the brown pelican, once brought back from the verge of extinction, could likely meet its oily end. Also threatened are the blue fin tuna, Kemp Ridley turtles, and manatees. As a popular mouthpiece might point out, "Those rabid pelican extremists forced us to take unnecessary risks!" Yeah, let's blame the gulf shrimp, oysters and blue crabs while we're at it.
No ... I think we're missing the point here. As much as I'd like to plug the leaking pipe with Tony Hayward's head, the core blame lays with America's unquenchable thirst for oil. In 1970, the US imported 24% of its consumed oil. President Nixon called it an "energy crisis" and warned of the dangers of foreign oil dependence saying "Our independence will depend on maintaining and achieving self-sufficiency in energy". Nixon vowed to lead America to self-sufficiency for its energy needs by 1980. The drill-baby-drill oilaholics argued that "it would take too long" to resolve our energy needs and hence no advancements on alternative energy research were made. By 1979, it was President Carter's turn. He again highlighted the dangers of our increasing oil consumption and promised to lead the nation to energy self-sufficiency. Again, the "more oil solves everything" argument won out and nothing was done to address the problem.
Today we import nearly 70% of our oil consumption. Despite the obvious need to accelerate real alternative energy research, oily politicians are still leading the chant - "Our only solution is to drill drill drill." Well baby, baby, baby, when will you ever learn, learn, learn?
Maybe we should take a hint from the Soviets, put our sights on those rabid environmentalists, and nuke the pelicans?
In 1963, a natural gas well in Urtabulak (southern Uzbekistan) burst into flames, shooting a burning pillar 400 feet into the air. The Soviets had not developed sufficient control mechanisms and so it burned for three years with 12 million cubic meters of gas burning every day (over three cubic miles of gas burned). After countless attempts and strategies to quell the fire, the Soviets finally found a solution in 1966 ... they nuked the well. As drastic as that may sound, it worked.
In 1979, an offshore oil rig (named Ixtoc) in the Bay of Campeche in the Gulf of Mexico exploded and leaked oil into the gulf for nine months, spilling a total of 150 million gallons of oil. The efforts to stop the leak were identical to those used by BP over the past month (submersible robots, dispersants, burning it off, boom floats, a huge containment dome, a heavy dumping cover, and finally drilling relief wells).
It's easy for people to blame BP for the recent oil spill disaster. They cut corners on quality and safety procedures to save a buck (a lot of bucks, actually). Sadly, when this is all over and becomes yet another line in a dusty unread history book, BP execs will probably get huge bonuses for finally containing the spill.
But back to the blame and lessons unlearned. Regressive politicians were quick to blame environmentalists for the spill (yeah, I had to read that several times myself before realizing it wasn't a joke). The bureaucratic MMS (Minerals Management Service) is another good blame-sink, rich in incompetence and corruption. The Bush-Cheney administration likewise deserves much of the blame as they presided over the reduction of oversight and drilling regulations (discounting the requirement for remote shut-off switches). And President Obama deserves some blame too. As they say, the buck stops there and it's only fair given that his administration caved to the "Drill Baby Drill" mantra and expanded the off-shore drilling efforts by ending the moratorium on oil exploration along the East coast.
Where was I? Oh yeah, who's the blame for this mess? Consider the damages ... the brown pelican, once brought back from the verge of extinction, could likely meet its oily end. Also threatened are the blue fin tuna, Kemp Ridley turtles, and manatees. As a popular mouthpiece might point out, "Those rabid pelican extremists forced us to take unnecessary risks!" Yeah, let's blame the gulf shrimp, oysters and blue crabs while we're at it.
No ... I think we're missing the point here. As much as I'd like to plug the leaking pipe with Tony Hayward's head, the core blame lays with America's unquenchable thirst for oil. In 1970, the US imported 24% of its consumed oil. President Nixon called it an "energy crisis" and warned of the dangers of foreign oil dependence saying "Our independence will depend on maintaining and achieving self-sufficiency in energy". Nixon vowed to lead America to self-sufficiency for its energy needs by 1980. The drill-baby-drill oilaholics argued that "it would take too long" to resolve our energy needs and hence no advancements on alternative energy research were made. By 1979, it was President Carter's turn. He again highlighted the dangers of our increasing oil consumption and promised to lead the nation to energy self-sufficiency. Again, the "more oil solves everything" argument won out and nothing was done to address the problem.
Today we import nearly 70% of our oil consumption. Despite the obvious need to accelerate real alternative energy research, oily politicians are still leading the chant - "Our only solution is to drill drill drill." Well baby, baby, baby, when will you ever learn, learn, learn?
Maybe we should take a hint from the Soviets, put our sights on those rabid environmentalists, and nuke the pelicans?
Monday, June 21, 2010
Geograwhat?
Where in the world is Waldo? Okay, let's say he's in the thriving metropolis of Thimphu. Uh, well, where's that? Oh, it's the capital of Bhutan! Really? Um, where's Bhutan? It's in Asia. You DO know where Asia is, don't you?
Depending on your age, the answer is very likely "No".
I have to admit ... as a child, I never did like geography. I can remember learning about maps, climates, some stuff about oceans and coastlines, a little bit on volcanoes and glaciers, various landscapes, a little bit about culture here and there, and of course the names of all fifty States. For the most part, it was rote memorization and didn't engage the interest of a math nerd such as myself.
But even with my laissez-faire approach back then to the subject, I can still name all fifty states (and when I was young, all the capital cities). As a child, I could list out all the nations in South America. I could even name the territories and provinces of Canada. Even now, I remember trivial facts - such as Minnesota being the northern-most state in the contiguous 48-states. You didn't know that? Well, there's a little notch of land in Minnesota that protrudes upwards into Canada. And despite the infestation of poorly drawn maps (even in school hallways), the New England states are in fact all south of the 49th parallel.
Today though, it seems that geographical knowledge is best described by a 75 watt light bulb receiving only 30 watts of juice. American youth are now being called geographically illiterate. In a National Geographic-Roper survey of young adults (ages 18 to 24) in Canada, France, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Sweden and the United States, Sweden scored highest; Mexico, lowest. The U.S. was next to last.
Many other reports in recent years demonstrate just how bad things have gotten. In another survey of young adults in the US, one-third of them could not locate the Pacific Ocean on a map. Not being able to locate Bhutan or Gabon is understandable, but the Pacific Ocean is kind of big, isn't it? You know, just look for that big blue splotch on the map? No, no, not that one. That's Lake Superior. Maybe you should look for something a bit bigger?
Fewer than half of the kids tested could locate France or Japan. Fewer than half were able to identify the states New York or Ohio on a map. And when shown a map of the world, 11% of them couldn't find the United States of America! Think about it … we’re talking about people who can vote in this country … but can’t even find it!
In another study, 88% of young adults could not locate Afghanistan, 75% could not identify Iran or Israel on the globe, and 63% could not locate Iraq or Saudi Arabia on a map. And when discussing the ruin left behind by hurricane Katrina, only 66% of young adults could locate Louisiana on a map. When asked where Vietnam is, almost half of those surveyed said it was in South America. Many of them couldn’t even tell you why Vietnam was of particular interest. Uh … maybe a war?
But a healthy percentage of them could tell you that the island in the 2001 TV show “Survivor” was in the South Pacific.
The problem goes further than just reading maps. The majority of incoming freshmen at colleges in the US know the Berlin Wall and U2 only as rock groups. Avatars are well known among youth, but have nothing to do with Hindu deities. Students know that birds fly south for the winter. When asked what birds do in the southern hemisphere, the answer (albeit sad) is not surprising … they fly south! Yeah, like to Antarctica?
While most young adults can point out where China is, when asked what language is primarily spoken in China, 75% said English. Told they could escape an approaching storm by evacuating to the northwest, only two-thirds could indicate which way northwest is on a map. Almost one-third of those surveyed thought that the population of the United States was between one billion and two billion (rather than the correct answer of 300 million).
What is the cause of this outbreak of geographical illiteracy? Some claim that today's self-absorbed nationalistic attitude of our government is the primary cause. If this were so, you’d think more students could find the US on a map. What is known is that for many students, geography rates as their least favorite subject in school. Considering how much people hate math, that's really saying something.
But maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way. Less than 30% of young adults were able to locate New Jersey on a map. I've lived in New Jersey, so I can truthfully say that having our young adults be geographically illiterate might actually have some benefits.
Depending on your age, the answer is very likely "No".
I have to admit ... as a child, I never did like geography. I can remember learning about maps, climates, some stuff about oceans and coastlines, a little bit on volcanoes and glaciers, various landscapes, a little bit about culture here and there, and of course the names of all fifty States. For the most part, it was rote memorization and didn't engage the interest of a math nerd such as myself.
But even with my laissez-faire approach back then to the subject, I can still name all fifty states (and when I was young, all the capital cities). As a child, I could list out all the nations in South America. I could even name the territories and provinces of Canada. Even now, I remember trivial facts - such as Minnesota being the northern-most state in the contiguous 48-states. You didn't know that? Well, there's a little notch of land in Minnesota that protrudes upwards into Canada. And despite the infestation of poorly drawn maps (even in school hallways), the New England states are in fact all south of the 49th parallel.
Today though, it seems that geographical knowledge is best described by a 75 watt light bulb receiving only 30 watts of juice. American youth are now being called geographically illiterate. In a National Geographic-Roper survey of young adults (ages 18 to 24) in Canada, France, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Sweden and the United States, Sweden scored highest; Mexico, lowest. The U.S. was next to last.
Many other reports in recent years demonstrate just how bad things have gotten. In another survey of young adults in the US, one-third of them could not locate the Pacific Ocean on a map. Not being able to locate Bhutan or Gabon is understandable, but the Pacific Ocean is kind of big, isn't it? You know, just look for that big blue splotch on the map? No, no, not that one. That's Lake Superior. Maybe you should look for something a bit bigger?
Fewer than half of the kids tested could locate France or Japan. Fewer than half were able to identify the states New York or Ohio on a map. And when shown a map of the world, 11% of them couldn't find the United States of America! Think about it … we’re talking about people who can vote in this country … but can’t even find it!
In another study, 88% of young adults could not locate Afghanistan, 75% could not identify Iran or Israel on the globe, and 63% could not locate Iraq or Saudi Arabia on a map. And when discussing the ruin left behind by hurricane Katrina, only 66% of young adults could locate Louisiana on a map. When asked where Vietnam is, almost half of those surveyed said it was in South America. Many of them couldn’t even tell you why Vietnam was of particular interest. Uh … maybe a war?
But a healthy percentage of them could tell you that the island in the 2001 TV show “Survivor” was in the South Pacific.
The problem goes further than just reading maps. The majority of incoming freshmen at colleges in the US know the Berlin Wall and U2 only as rock groups. Avatars are well known among youth, but have nothing to do with Hindu deities. Students know that birds fly south for the winter. When asked what birds do in the southern hemisphere, the answer (albeit sad) is not surprising … they fly south! Yeah, like to Antarctica?
While most young adults can point out where China is, when asked what language is primarily spoken in China, 75% said English. Told they could escape an approaching storm by evacuating to the northwest, only two-thirds could indicate which way northwest is on a map. Almost one-third of those surveyed thought that the population of the United States was between one billion and two billion (rather than the correct answer of 300 million).
What is the cause of this outbreak of geographical illiteracy? Some claim that today's self-absorbed nationalistic attitude of our government is the primary cause. If this were so, you’d think more students could find the US on a map. What is known is that for many students, geography rates as their least favorite subject in school. Considering how much people hate math, that's really saying something.
But maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way. Less than 30% of young adults were able to locate New Jersey on a map. I've lived in New Jersey, so I can truthfully say that having our young adults be geographically illiterate might actually have some benefits.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
99 Makes Common Cents
Back in the late 1800s, some marketing genius discovered that glass wasn't the only transparent thing made by man. He noticed that the number '9' was also transparent, in fact virtually invisible, and hence was born the trailing invisible nines. I'm talking about the ubiquitous nines thrown at us in one of the most nefarious pricing strategies ever conceived.
A gallon of milk costs $2.99. A roasted chicken costs $5.99. A pound of Vermont apple smoked bacon runs $12.99. Ah ha, you didn't even see those 9's, did you?
The "save a penny spend a dollar" mentality is not limited to jars of peanut butter or video rentals. Dell's XPS computer starts at $1599. You can upgrade to the i7-980X processor for an additional $999. Then you can add a Mini 1010 netbook for the bargain price of $199.
Interested in a 46" HDTV LCD TV? It's only $2999.99. A NordicTrack AudioStrider - $999.99. That 80GB iPod your kid wants? Hey, it's below $350! Yes ... $349.99.
Walk through grocery and department stores and your retina is saturated with nines. Potato chips - $1.99 , Tomato Sauce - $2.49 , Greek Yogurt - $3.99 , Levi Jeans - $19.99 , Dog Collar - $12.99 ... If nines could fight disease, the entire world would be cured during a single shopping trip. Nines are ubiquitous (by the way, that's a great word for those prepping for the SATs).
That marketing guy understood how we think in numbers. $246.30 ... $275.82 ... $291.40 ... $299.99 ... they're all "two hundred something". And it's all those 'somethings' that kill your paycheck at the end of the month.
When we buy that DVD recorder for $99.99 ... we feel good. We know in our hearts that it's really $100, but somehow, it feels better. It's less than $100! It must be the left side of our brains arguing with the right side of our brains (in my case, both sides usually lose the argument). And so we've endured the ridicule of invisible nines our entire lives. Whether it's a candy bar for 59 cents or a sweater for $29.99, our eyes somehow manage to avert the nines and we go on living with that slightly better feeling ... and a slightly lighter wallet than we might expect. About nine something lighter.
But the ultimate insult comes at the gas pump. Gasoline is currently running about $2.79 a gallon. Well actually, $2.79 and 9/10ths of a cent. As if paying $2.79 isn't punishment enough, someone out there gets their jollies watching us pay that extra 0.9 cents per gallon. I'm still trying to figure out where to invest that 1/10th of a penny savings.
The fact is, we're not saving anything. That innocuous 9/10ths of a cent adds up. America consumes 380 million gallons of gasoline every day. Adding 0.9 cents to the price adds a hidden $1.3 Billion a year at the pump. (Don't you just hate math?)
So who is the real villain in this story? Well, my theory is that it's all Abe's fault. Yeah, I'm talking about the penny. That innocent little copper-looking coin (in 1982, the composition went from 95% copper to 97.5% zinc) is the culprit to all our suffering! If not for the penny, maybe we wouldn't have to deal with all those nasty nugatory nettlesome nines.
The US Mint produces billions of pennies each year, to date nearly 300 billion of them. Lined up edge to edge, they would circle the earth 137 times. The most disturbing fact is that it costs 1.7 cents to manufacture and distribute one penny. The government loses tens of millions of dollars each year just making these trinkets. Only the US government could manage to lose money by making money!
Of course, if pennies were to disappear, another marketing genius would quickly discover the power of the invisible nickel. That 46" HDTV LCD TV's price would drop from $2999.99 to $2999.95.
Worse yet, we would no longer be able to give anyone our two cents. So ... a nickel for your thoughts?
A gallon of milk costs $2.99. A roasted chicken costs $5.99. A pound of Vermont apple smoked bacon runs $12.99. Ah ha, you didn't even see those 9's, did you?
The "save a penny spend a dollar" mentality is not limited to jars of peanut butter or video rentals. Dell's XPS computer starts at $1599. You can upgrade to the i7-980X processor for an additional $999. Then you can add a Mini 1010 netbook for the bargain price of $199.
Interested in a 46" HDTV LCD TV? It's only $2999.99. A NordicTrack AudioStrider - $999.99. That 80GB iPod your kid wants? Hey, it's below $350! Yes ... $349.99.
Walk through grocery and department stores and your retina is saturated with nines. Potato chips - $1.99 , Tomato Sauce - $2.49 , Greek Yogurt - $3.99 , Levi Jeans - $19.99 , Dog Collar - $12.99 ... If nines could fight disease, the entire world would be cured during a single shopping trip. Nines are ubiquitous (by the way, that's a great word for those prepping for the SATs).
That marketing guy understood how we think in numbers. $246.30 ... $275.82 ... $291.40 ... $299.99 ... they're all "two hundred something". And it's all those 'somethings' that kill your paycheck at the end of the month.
When we buy that DVD recorder for $99.99 ... we feel good. We know in our hearts that it's really $100, but somehow, it feels better. It's less than $100! It must be the left side of our brains arguing with the right side of our brains (in my case, both sides usually lose the argument). And so we've endured the ridicule of invisible nines our entire lives. Whether it's a candy bar for 59 cents or a sweater for $29.99, our eyes somehow manage to avert the nines and we go on living with that slightly better feeling ... and a slightly lighter wallet than we might expect. About nine something lighter.
But the ultimate insult comes at the gas pump. Gasoline is currently running about $2.79 a gallon. Well actually, $2.79 and 9/10ths of a cent. As if paying $2.79 isn't punishment enough, someone out there gets their jollies watching us pay that extra 0.9 cents per gallon. I'm still trying to figure out where to invest that 1/10th of a penny savings.
The fact is, we're not saving anything. That innocuous 9/10ths of a cent adds up. America consumes 380 million gallons of gasoline every day. Adding 0.9 cents to the price adds a hidden $1.3 Billion a year at the pump. (Don't you just hate math?)
So who is the real villain in this story? Well, my theory is that it's all Abe's fault. Yeah, I'm talking about the penny. That innocent little copper-looking coin (in 1982, the composition went from 95% copper to 97.5% zinc) is the culprit to all our suffering! If not for the penny, maybe we wouldn't have to deal with all those nasty nugatory nettlesome nines.
The US Mint produces billions of pennies each year, to date nearly 300 billion of them. Lined up edge to edge, they would circle the earth 137 times. The most disturbing fact is that it costs 1.7 cents to manufacture and distribute one penny. The government loses tens of millions of dollars each year just making these trinkets. Only the US government could manage to lose money by making money!
Of course, if pennies were to disappear, another marketing genius would quickly discover the power of the invisible nickel. That 46" HDTV LCD TV's price would drop from $2999.99 to $2999.95.
Worse yet, we would no longer be able to give anyone our two cents. So ... a nickel for your thoughts?
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Triskaidekatwinkia
Twelve trillion bottles of beer on the wall, twelve trillion bottles of beer ... You take one down and toss it around ... and before you know it, you'll see thirteen trillion bottles up there! No no no, I shouldn't use beer in this analogy. The last thing I would ever want to do is badmouth beer! What I wanted to talk about is dollars and yes, the nearly inconceivable has happened again. Our National Debt has hit yet another trillion dollar mark. As news stations continued to focus on the Gulf oil spill, violence in the Gaza, and mounting tensions between North and South Korea, our National Debt quietly crept over $13 Trillion.
Thirteen trillion. That's a big number, and much bigger when you are talking dollars. Then again, the dollar isn't what it used to be. If the world market continues to deteriorate, we might be able to barter off that debt for a small chest of trinkets and a few cases of cigarettes.
Anyway, as I've said before, a trillion is a big number. I know that it gets tiring to hear about this, so maybe I should only rant about the National Debt every time we hit another trillion dollar mark. Of course, that's getting more and more common these days.
The real problem with the National Debt is that it's so big, it's no longer scary. It's kind of like comparing the sun to a volcanic eruption. Volcanoes can be pretty terrifying, but who's afraid of the sun? Sure, it's 800,000 miles wide and those cute little solar flares up there can be equivalent to twenty million atomic bombs. But who's afraid of a solar flare?
It seems that twelve zeroes numb the brain. A trillion (1000000000000) is a million million, or a thousand billion. These numbers mean nothing to the average person. A billion? Isn't that what we spend in Iraq every three days? So what? Well, a billion one dollar bills would be a stack about 68 miles high. A trillion pennies would form a copper cube over 1/2 mile wide. A trillion seconds is about 32,000 years.
Scary? No, of course not. Well, that's okay. Most people can barely comprehend a thousand, much less a million million. It's hard to be afraid of a bunch of zeroes. The human brain just isn't equipped to handle numbers like thirteen trillion. After all, the National Debt is over twice the number of brain cells in your head. Maybe we should just be happy we don't have bigger brains?
Okay, so pennies and dollars don't quite cut it. How about something our brains are designed to comprehend better? You know, like perhaps ... Twinkies? Yeah, let's look at thirteen trillion Twinkies.
The Hostess Company bakes 500,000,000 Twinkies a year, so it would take you 26,000 years to bake thirteen trillion. A thirteen trillion pound Twinkie would be 3 1/2 miles long. Thirteen trillion Twinkies would cover a football field with a 184 mile high creme-filled sponge. If you ate 100 Twinkies every second of the day, it would take you over 4000 years to get through those thirteen trillion Twinkies.
Think about it ... a National Debt of 13 Trillion Twinkies! That's 53 times more than the total number of burgers sold by McDonalds in the past 70 years.
Perhaps this is a better way to get people's attention. Would people be bothered by a debt of 13 Trillion Twinkies? Would it bother you to know that every man, woman and child in the United States owes the government 42,000 Twinkies? You have three kids? Well then, your family owes the government 210,000 Twinkies. Are you ready to start baking?
So what's the solution? Or indeed, is there a solution? Does this country have the fortitude (or sugar tooth) required to fight off 13 Trillion Twinkies?
Triskaidekaphobia is the fear of the number 13. Perhaps being in debt for 13,131,313,131,313 Twinkies would do the trick for most people? If that's not scary enough, then let's just wait until we hit 14 Trillion. Maybe I should then write about fourteen trillion White Castle burgers?
Thirteen trillion. That's a big number, and much bigger when you are talking dollars. Then again, the dollar isn't what it used to be. If the world market continues to deteriorate, we might be able to barter off that debt for a small chest of trinkets and a few cases of cigarettes.
Anyway, as I've said before, a trillion is a big number. I know that it gets tiring to hear about this, so maybe I should only rant about the National Debt every time we hit another trillion dollar mark. Of course, that's getting more and more common these days.
The real problem with the National Debt is that it's so big, it's no longer scary. It's kind of like comparing the sun to a volcanic eruption. Volcanoes can be pretty terrifying, but who's afraid of the sun? Sure, it's 800,000 miles wide and those cute little solar flares up there can be equivalent to twenty million atomic bombs. But who's afraid of a solar flare?
It seems that twelve zeroes numb the brain. A trillion (1000000000000) is a million million, or a thousand billion. These numbers mean nothing to the average person. A billion? Isn't that what we spend in Iraq every three days? So what? Well, a billion one dollar bills would be a stack about 68 miles high. A trillion pennies would form a copper cube over 1/2 mile wide. A trillion seconds is about 32,000 years.
Scary? No, of course not. Well, that's okay. Most people can barely comprehend a thousand, much less a million million. It's hard to be afraid of a bunch of zeroes. The human brain just isn't equipped to handle numbers like thirteen trillion. After all, the National Debt is over twice the number of brain cells in your head. Maybe we should just be happy we don't have bigger brains?
Okay, so pennies and dollars don't quite cut it. How about something our brains are designed to comprehend better? You know, like perhaps ... Twinkies? Yeah, let's look at thirteen trillion Twinkies.
The Hostess Company bakes 500,000,000 Twinkies a year, so it would take you 26,000 years to bake thirteen trillion. A thirteen trillion pound Twinkie would be 3 1/2 miles long. Thirteen trillion Twinkies would cover a football field with a 184 mile high creme-filled sponge. If you ate 100 Twinkies every second of the day, it would take you over 4000 years to get through those thirteen trillion Twinkies.
Think about it ... a National Debt of 13 Trillion Twinkies! That's 53 times more than the total number of burgers sold by McDonalds in the past 70 years.
Perhaps this is a better way to get people's attention. Would people be bothered by a debt of 13 Trillion Twinkies? Would it bother you to know that every man, woman and child in the United States owes the government 42,000 Twinkies? You have three kids? Well then, your family owes the government 210,000 Twinkies. Are you ready to start baking?
So what's the solution? Or indeed, is there a solution? Does this country have the fortitude (or sugar tooth) required to fight off 13 Trillion Twinkies?
Triskaidekaphobia is the fear of the number 13. Perhaps being in debt for 13,131,313,131,313 Twinkies would do the trick for most people? If that's not scary enough, then let's just wait until we hit 14 Trillion. Maybe I should then write about fourteen trillion White Castle burgers?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Bracing the Walls of D.C.
There was a homeowner who wanted to rid his house of roaches. A friend suggested using an aerosol spray called a "roach bomb". You put the can in a room and turn it on (activating a continuous spray), exit the room, and let the fumes seek out and bomb the little critters. The homeowner thought it over ..... if one bomb per room is good, several bombs per room is better! He bought a couple cases of roach bombs, set off several aerosols in each room, and ran out of the house.
Slowly, the house filled up with the mist ... the flammable mist ... the flammable mist that eventually found the stove's pilot light. Yeah, the house exploded. But it has to make you wonder ... Did it kill the roaches?
Okay, I didn't really want to discuss blowing up houses. Quite the converse, I wanted to talk about what it takes to hold one together.
Most people think that the walls of a house support the ceiling. That's true of course, but equally true is the fact that the ceiling supports the walls. If not for the ceiling providing stability, the walls would come crashing down. So here's the question ... just how high can you build a wall? Is there a theoretical limit to how high the ceiling can be?
Senator Lamar Alexander, one of the great architects (deep, very deep) in the bowels of Washington D.C. has an issue with ceilings. Earlier this year, the Senator led the opposition against Congress' efforts to raise the national debt limit (the ceiling defining how much the government can spend). What confused me is why the Senator felt this was an issue ... that is, why an issue "now".
As Governor of Tennessee, Alexander didn't mind Reagan raising that ceiling, nor raising the National Debt from $800 Billion to $2.4 Trillion. As Secretary of Education under Bush Sr., Alexander again did not object. The National Debt rose another $1.6 Trillion. Even under Clinton, he didn't object ... and the National Debt increased another $1.6 Trillion.
And as a Senator during Bush Jr.'s administration, Alexander didn't object to raising the ceiling multiple times, raising the National Debt $4.6 Trillion (nearly doubling it). But now, now he feels that those walls are in danger of crumbling and warned against raising the ceiling again.
As much as I dislike the hypocritical cretin, I do agree with him. The ceiling isn't supporting anything. It's far too high and the walls are made out of defective imported Chinese drywall. With all Republicans voting "No", Congress did raise the limit by $1.9 trillion, putting the new ceiling at a stratospheric $14.3 trillion.
Well, I'm a betting man. I'm challenging anyone to place a bet with me.
When the Republicans take back control of the White House, I bet they won't reverse the spending trend. I bet that those walls will go even higher. I bet that the Republicans, Senator Alexander included, will develop fiscal amnesia and that the discussion of voting against ceiling limits will not cross their lips.
No, no, no ... I'm not trashing the Republicans. I'm trashing the Republicans and the Democrats. They're two of a kind, dysfunctional twins from the same broken mold. Whether it's spend and tax or spend and borrow, it has the same common denominator ... spending. There just doesn't seem to be any way to stop these guys from building those walls higher and higher and higher.
So now we have a $14.3 Trillion ceiling. Imagine 14.3 trillion sugar cubes stacked up in a single pile. That stack would go further than the distance to the sun! How blinding is that sweet analogy?
Perhaps there isn't any solution to this problem, at least not one that Alexander and his friends are capable of or willing to propose. But I'm willing to help them. I'm thinking that it might do some good if we send a few hundred thousand cases of roach bombs to Washington D.C.. I'm sure there must be a pilot light somewhere over there.
Slowly, the house filled up with the mist ... the flammable mist ... the flammable mist that eventually found the stove's pilot light. Yeah, the house exploded. But it has to make you wonder ... Did it kill the roaches?
Okay, I didn't really want to discuss blowing up houses. Quite the converse, I wanted to talk about what it takes to hold one together.
Most people think that the walls of a house support the ceiling. That's true of course, but equally true is the fact that the ceiling supports the walls. If not for the ceiling providing stability, the walls would come crashing down. So here's the question ... just how high can you build a wall? Is there a theoretical limit to how high the ceiling can be?
Senator Lamar Alexander, one of the great architects (deep, very deep) in the bowels of Washington D.C. has an issue with ceilings. Earlier this year, the Senator led the opposition against Congress' efforts to raise the national debt limit (the ceiling defining how much the government can spend). What confused me is why the Senator felt this was an issue ... that is, why an issue "now".
As Governor of Tennessee, Alexander didn't mind Reagan raising that ceiling, nor raising the National Debt from $800 Billion to $2.4 Trillion. As Secretary of Education under Bush Sr., Alexander again did not object. The National Debt rose another $1.6 Trillion. Even under Clinton, he didn't object ... and the National Debt increased another $1.6 Trillion.
And as a Senator during Bush Jr.'s administration, Alexander didn't object to raising the ceiling multiple times, raising the National Debt $4.6 Trillion (nearly doubling it). But now, now he feels that those walls are in danger of crumbling and warned against raising the ceiling again.
As much as I dislike the hypocritical cretin, I do agree with him. The ceiling isn't supporting anything. It's far too high and the walls are made out of defective imported Chinese drywall. With all Republicans voting "No", Congress did raise the limit by $1.9 trillion, putting the new ceiling at a stratospheric $14.3 trillion.
Well, I'm a betting man. I'm challenging anyone to place a bet with me.
When the Republicans take back control of the White House, I bet they won't reverse the spending trend. I bet that those walls will go even higher. I bet that the Republicans, Senator Alexander included, will develop fiscal amnesia and that the discussion of voting against ceiling limits will not cross their lips.
No, no, no ... I'm not trashing the Republicans. I'm trashing the Republicans and the Democrats. They're two of a kind, dysfunctional twins from the same broken mold. Whether it's spend and tax or spend and borrow, it has the same common denominator ... spending. There just doesn't seem to be any way to stop these guys from building those walls higher and higher and higher.
So now we have a $14.3 Trillion ceiling. Imagine 14.3 trillion sugar cubes stacked up in a single pile. That stack would go further than the distance to the sun! How blinding is that sweet analogy?
Perhaps there isn't any solution to this problem, at least not one that Alexander and his friends are capable of or willing to propose. But I'm willing to help them. I'm thinking that it might do some good if we send a few hundred thousand cases of roach bombs to Washington D.C.. I'm sure there must be a pilot light somewhere over there.
Can We Talk?
A man I've known for many years recently told me that he no longer wants to have anything to do with me. He accused "my kind" of being responsible for the 50 million deaths incurred during WWII, the turmoil we endured from the Cold War, the over 50,000 deaths during the Vietnam War, the collapse of America's moral infrastructure, the decline of the nuclear family, and finally for the 9/11 attack. He summarized his explosive outburst by telling me that he was sick of my "anti-American pacifist left wing liberal hippie drivel". I found this type-casting very strange indeed. I mean, I don't even own a tie-dye shirt.
Granted, this man and I were never drinking buddies, but we were always able to civilly discuss any subject, no matter how controversial. In poetic terms of how I was taught to argue, we always agreed to agreeably disagree. Our differences on politics had little to do with our personal feelings towards each other.
But when I brought up the subject of bringing our troops home fromIraq
Another person I know is angry at me for my stance on firearms. Well, angry doesn’t quite describe his feeling. Irate, furious, enraged … where’s my Thesaurus? He thinks I’ve lost my mind when I tell him that I support the right to bear arms. How liberal can I be if I want criminals freely roaming the streets with grenade launchers, right?
Our nation has always been one of outspoken opinions. The myth of the great silent majority always made me laugh. Where exactly were all those silent people hiding? Since its inception, this country has fostered strong opinions and has nurtured debate. As they said in Colonial days, a healthy debate a day keeps the King away.
But times have changed. Now, you’re either for the war or you’re for the terrorists. You either support a woman’s right to choose or you want all women barefoot and pregnant. You either want to build a wall on the Mexican border or you want to open up a store selling welcome mats for illegal aliens. It's here or there, in or out, the good guys or the bad guys. You're either for us or against us!
The lines drawn between opposing sides on every issue are becoming ridiculously thin, allowing no middle ground whatsoever. Whatever happened to enjoying a good debate? What would Lincoln and Douglas have done if they could only speak to people who already agreed with their side of an issue?
Hubert H. Humphrey once said, “Freedom is hammered out on the anvil of discussion, dissent, and debate.” This is long past wisdom and now words are used specifically to divide rather than unite our country. Consider the naming of the “Patriot Act”. What does it say about you if you are against it? Clearly, you are not a patriot! You hateAmerica
Perhaps the problem stems from the fact that our leaders aren’t particularly good at listening and they’re even worse at talking. When President Bush is stumbling through a sentence, I find myself yelling at the television set – “Use a verb!”
So anyway, what’s the problem? Why can’t we discuss those things we disagree on without it becoming a personal attack? Why has it become so un-American to disagree? Freedom of speech has little value if you’re only free to speak in unison.
Can we talk? Or more importantly, can we listen? Talking is easy enough, but listening to someone else talk can be difficult, even painful at times. And yet, this is the most important of all American virtues. How else can we agree to disagree is we don't first listen so as to know what it is we're debating about? This nation has been happily debating for over 230 years now and we still don't have a King, so there's good evidence that it does indeed work.
So remember to drink three glasses a milk a day, exercise regularly, eat plenty of fiber, brush your teeth after every meal, and never turn away from a good debate.
Well, I'd like to talk some more, but some of my neighbors are shouting something to me and I have to close the window. I really don't want to hear what they have to say.
Granted, this man and I were never drinking buddies, but we were always able to civilly discuss any subject, no matter how controversial. In poetic terms of how I was taught to argue, we always agreed to agreeably disagree. Our differences on politics had little to do with our personal feelings towards each other.
But when I brought up the subject of bringing our troops home from
Another person I know is angry at me for my stance on firearms. Well, angry doesn’t quite describe his feeling. Irate, furious, enraged … where’s my Thesaurus? He thinks I’ve lost my mind when I tell him that I support the right to bear arms. How liberal can I be if I want criminals freely roaming the streets with grenade launchers, right?
Our nation has always been one of outspoken opinions. The myth of the great silent majority always made me laugh. Where exactly were all those silent people hiding? Since its inception, this country has fostered strong opinions and has nurtured debate. As they said in Colonial days, a healthy debate a day keeps the King away.
But times have changed. Now, you’re either for the war or you’re for the terrorists. You either support a woman’s right to choose or you want all women barefoot and pregnant. You either want to build a wall on the Mexican border or you want to open up a store selling welcome mats for illegal aliens. It's here or there, in or out, the good guys or the bad guys. You're either for us or against us!
The lines drawn between opposing sides on every issue are becoming ridiculously thin, allowing no middle ground whatsoever. Whatever happened to enjoying a good debate? What would Lincoln and Douglas have done if they could only speak to people who already agreed with their side of an issue?
Hubert H. Humphrey once said, “Freedom is hammered out on the anvil of discussion, dissent, and debate.” This is long past wisdom and now words are used specifically to divide rather than unite our country. Consider the naming of the “Patriot Act”. What does it say about you if you are against it? Clearly, you are not a patriot! You hate
Perhaps the problem stems from the fact that our leaders aren’t particularly good at listening and they’re even worse at talking. When President Bush is stumbling through a sentence, I find myself yelling at the television set – “Use a verb!”
So anyway, what’s the problem? Why can’t we discuss those things we disagree on without it becoming a personal attack? Why has it become so un-American to disagree? Freedom of speech has little value if you’re only free to speak in unison.
Can we talk? Or more importantly, can we listen? Talking is easy enough, but listening to someone else talk can be difficult, even painful at times. And yet, this is the most important of all American virtues. How else can we agree to disagree is we don't first listen so as to know what it is we're debating about? This nation has been happily debating for over 230 years now and we still don't have a King, so there's good evidence that it does indeed work.
So remember to drink three glasses a milk a day, exercise regularly, eat plenty of fiber, brush your teeth after every meal, and never turn away from a good debate.
Well, I'd like to talk some more, but some of my neighbors are shouting something to me and I have to close the window. I really don't want to hear what they have to say.
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