Please do not defecate on our floors.

Warning: Close the door or your guffaws will frighten the children and co-workers


For all you frequent fliers out there, found this via Laughing Boy. Will become one of my daily sites. Salty humor freshly picked and freeze-dried to preserve freshness. Blissful.

posted by MT at 5:07 PM |

I'll take the Empire

Okay, I haven't yet seen it , but I'm fascinated by the level of attention this film is receiving. People are apparently flocking to this movie in spite of themselves. It is breaking box office records and nobody in particular seems to be happy about it (except Lucas, of course). Older viewers (like me) who remember waiting in line with real anticipation back in '77 have adopted the grudging posture of the reluctant church-goer...or more appropriately, like the reluctant concert-goer who knows the headline act should have retired ten years ago. It's cringe-worthy nostalgia (and maybe that is part of the appeal).

But the quality of the attention this has received is really noteworthy. Check out this article examining the politics of the Empire vs. that of the Rebellion. There is also a scathing review out there that I read recently, linked via one of the dozens of blogs I skim along, and I can't find it now to save my life. Someone help.


And yes, I will go to see it, but I am prepared to choke it down like liver and lima beans. And not before I see Spider-man first.






posted by MT at 4:51 PM |

Reminders of ground zero

Today marks the end of ground zero cleanup in NYC. Leaves me with a strange hollow feeling. The article says that more than 19,000 body parts have been recovered. And the cleanup took less time than expected. And a "mini-city" evolved around the site to help support the workers. And so much more. It strikes me that a more apt label for that address in time would be "a singularity," like the big bang.


I frankly thought I'd been rendered numb or immune, and part of that has been because the need to travel by air has meant lots of rationalizing to make any of it possible. But I happened to catch HBO's documentary special the other night, quite unexpectedly, which included an amazing amount of footage (much of which I never saw on the news, in spite of the sheer weight of coverage in those days). Much of it was amateur video by those on the scene or nearby. Nothing like re-energizing your PTSD. But the film is more about the strength of human character than about slack-jawed gawking at a disaster site. It is worth seeing.

posted by MT at 1:31 PM |

"It wasn't a meltdown, Kent. I prefer to think of it as an "unrequested fission surplus."
C. Montgomery Burns

See, it's all in the spin. This weekend I was feeling rather sick (apparently, and unsurprisingly, my dalliances across the international date line have left me kryptonite-weak and suceptible to all manner of floating bugs; one has nestled rather comfortably in my chest and sinuses and it's been just a treat.) So even though the pool was just open, I was in no mood or shape to swim with V while she spent the day with me. So I pulled a Tom Sawyer and told her that the next best thing was washing the car.


We drove to a little coin-op car washing facility, and set to work. The little water gun has quite a kick, and in no time she was drenched and frothing, racing around the car with various hoses snaking up and around, trying to beat the clock (about five minutes of "water time" for ten quarters.) After we soaped it down and rinsed it off, we moved to the little post-op area, and vacuumed out the upholstery. Quite a blast, at least as much fun as swimming, and now my car is nice and clean...mostly. The windows are a hideous streaky mess, but all this entertainment for about a roll of quarters....it is, as they say, priceless.


Incidentally, since some of you have asked, she was moderately impressed with her yukata. She thinks it will be too warm to wear. Sigh.

posted by MT at 5:32 PM |

The Tyranny of the Unimaginative

Found this interesting story via AnitaRoddick.com. Apparently posting ads with Google allows them to dictate what kinds of "controversial" content you can feature on your site. Or, more accurately, falling out of favor with them means that your status in the search algorithm diminishes, in ways that are not particularly clear to me.

Shortly after I made the "vomitous worm" statement on my site, the advertising staff at the Google search engine said they had suspended the advertising campaign we had running on their website. They said that my ad (which, ironically, read simply "AnitaRoddick.com: Uncensored.") violated their editorial policy against "sites that advocate against groups or individuals." But I note that they did not pull my ad when I criticized the World Bank, or Citigroup, or Nike for their equally deplorable behavior. By this same logic, no one could advertise who maligned any human being, be it Stalin, Hitler, or even bin Laden. Google would be hard-pressed to find any advertisers at all who would comply, beyond their core group of herbal breast-enhancement salesmen, cheap Viagra vendors, and pornography sites (which, by a certain logic, malign women).

She talks about the insidiousness of creeping self-censorship, and it is perhaps the most pernicious form of suppression. Related, as I think about it, to learned helplessness from last week. Plus, I think this speaks directly to the value of blogging (that is, blogs that are more directly geared to disseminating off-center or unpopular viewpoints).


posted by MT at 5:24 PM |

Bartlett for America!

I thoroughly enjoyed last night's West Wing finale, and found myself curiously tense and rather anxious as the president began contemplating an assassination. Such taut drama, in part because the economy of dialogue betrays so much underlying mental activity. Much more invigorating than car chases and martial arts hoo-ha (the bit of gunplay notwithstanding).

Favorite moment: Bartlett dope slaps Ritchie around a while. Nothing pleases me more than watching such an unevenly matched battle of wits.

Favorite line: "I'm holding a phone to my ear. What does that tell you?" Harkens back to Sports Night, when Natalie tries to cure Dan's writer's block by throwing a glass of water in his face: "Why did that just happen?"


Most excellent. Can't wait for fall.




posted by MT at 10:41 AM |

Shockingly, terrifyingly horrible....TERROR!

Found this CNN parody page link via Pop Culture Junk Mail. I think this effectively sums up the situation. Nothing like stimulating the adrenaline and then giving you absolutely no way to effectively manage the situation. Reminds me of those classic experiments on learned helplessness, where various critters were given electric shock with no way of controlling it or predicting its onset. They eventually learned to cower in the corner and just take it. I think the government is likely to engender this kind of behavior if they continue with these pointless warnings.


posted by MT at 10:10 AM |

Punctuated equilibrium

Stephen Jay Gould, the famed paleontologist and evolutionary biologist, has died of cancer at age 60. He was a well-known popularizer who made difficult concepts about evolution and biology accessible to public at large. He is perhaps best known for his unending struggle with "scientific creationism," and especially in keeping these ideas out of science classes. He even did a guest stint on The Simpsons. One doesn't get more renowned than that.

Gould became one of America's most recognizable scientists for his voluminous and accessible writings and his participation in public debates with creationists. He also aired his disagreements with other evolutionary theorists in publications such as the New York Review of Books, bringing evolutionary theory to a wider intellectual audience during an era of increasing scientific specialization

Check out The Mismeasure of Man, a successful "demolition of the IQ industry." I suspect all of Gould's books (and there are many of them) will become featured commodities in the weeks to come.


posted by MT at 11:29 PM |

The coin of the realm

This started out as a much longer post, but I decided to trim it. Some of these things might pop up again in the coming days as I begin to acclimate again. Here is what happend on the Friday before I left Japan. Lent a very nice flavor to the whole trip. The week continued to be relentless, meetings and bento boxes and more meetings. No time for fun, per se; my camera stayed in the closet all week. But I had souvenirs to buy, dammit! And after the summary presentation I gave on Friday morning I had some time to kill in the afternoon, about three hours, and I decided to shop.


The department stores have many more service personnel than I have ever seen in an American store. Hell, this would be a good teacher to student ratio in an elementary school. In addition, women wearing odd fishnet gloves and dressed like they were attending the Kentucky Derby ran the elevators, poking their heads out to announce the floor, standing primly by the buttons as people moved on and off. And there is a cry (I forgot to write down the word) that the sales staff use, which is the Japanese equivalent of "here I am!" which they chant in a kind of sing-song when you move close to them, like a proximity alarm. I noticed that they never looked right at me when saying this, but off to the side, in my general direction. They are not pushy, but want to you to know that your needs will be met in short order, should you have any. And lots of direct eye contact is seen as very aggressive.



So I was looking for yukata, among other things, and the children's department was pretty light on good ones, nothing in the size I wanted. I finally asked for help (after circling for what seemed like a half hour) and a young lady with very sparse English tried to help me. Tanaka, I think is how you would spell it. They had nothing in the size I wanted, but when I asked, she told me about another store that was nearby that could help. She called ahead to confirm the size for me. Then the fun began.



She tried to show me on a map how to get there, but between the language difficulty, and my genetically rendered lack of any map-reading skill, it soon became clear that I was hopeless. I asked her to write down the name of the store and I would ask for help from passers by as I went. She brightened up, said something to her co-worker (turned out it was her superior, but neither of them was older than 20) and said that she would show me. I thought she was going to maybe take me to the right entrance and give a gentle shove. But that is not how it is done. She walked with me down 9 escalator flights, all the while talking in that half-English, telling me about a trip to the states she had made some years before. She told me, by way of explaining her help, that she had been done some kindness by an American while visiting. She seemed pleased (like everyone, apparently) that I like sushi and am able to use chopsticks. So after about five minutes, we got out of the store, out into the street, and found it was pouring.



I learned earlier that some older Japanese have a phobia about rain, stemming from the atomic bomb blasts in Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the resultant radiation poisoning. I suppose among younger people it is not a rational fear but just a custom, but still, there are strong prohibitions about going out in the rain unprotected. As we stood under an awning, she pointed me to the store, which I could see from where we were but it was not at all clear how to get there. It required moving in and around the train station in a way that was very indirect, and I was starting to fear for my time. I kept thanking her for her help, thinking she would just go back to work, but she kept looking at me like I wasn't getting something. She meant to take me all the way to the door, which she did despite my protests, all the way across a large and heavily populated walkway (outdoors) through the maze of stores, up to the ninth floor, where the garment in question was being held for me. We were drenched, and Tanaka was clearly cold, but she stayed with me right through the purchase, and then brought me back down (even asked the sales staff to give me a towel to dry off, which they did). And all of my protests that she was going to be late getting back, etc., were met with a very amused patience, like this was just how things went, and I was being silly.


I hit on an idea, and asked her if there was somewhere in the store I could buy small gifts, tea, chocolate, etc. She brought me down to the floor and then said she had to get back to work (we are talking about maybe a 20-minute excursion now). Tipping is seen as rude, and anyway, this was so far beyond the pale that a gratuity seemed insulting even to me. So while I was rummaging around down in the basement (sort of an upscale Reading Terminal Market for you Philadelphians) I found a Godiva chocolatier and had them prepare a little box of truffles.


When I went back, finally, to the original store, I showed Tanaka the yukata (even though she'd seen it already), and then presented the box of candy. Now, making any presentation with one hand, even a business card, is seen as less polite and respectful than a gift presented with two hands. And the depth of one's bow is proportional to the amount of respect being shown. So I made my presentation very carefully, with two hands and very deep bow.


I will never forget her reaction. Even her coworkers made noises of alarm or surpise. For a half second I was convinced I had made some great faux pas, like this was somehow seen as an inappropriate advance or something. But that wasn't it. She shook her head, and her eyes actually filled up. No kidding. I asked her if she didn't like chocolate (just my luck she's diabetic or allergic). And in her broken English she said that she was upset, and grateful, but upset that I felt that I had to get her a gift. I tried to show her that it was out of gratitude, that without her help I couldn't have found what I was looking for. This went on for about a minute, and she finally accepted my gift.


If I had to stick a pin in the thing that most impressed me about Japanese culture, it is illustrated in this exchange. I didn't read about the culture of selflessness, graciousness, respect and care. These things permeated virtually every interaction I had. Even the cab doors open by themselves. It's automatic.


Bloody hell, that's a long one. But it was a very moving moment for me. And imagine my culture shock flying back to Newark International. I don't want to harsh my own buzz by telling you about the selflessness, graciousness, respect and care shown by the folks in customs. That would be a much shorter entry.


But I'm glad to be back, if only because big evil Newton has mellowed considerably in my absence. The cat sitter tells me he was fine. He's attached himself to me for the past two days. I welcome it.




posted by MT at 6:16 AM |

This was not a boating accident...

Well, I have had no opportunities to survey beautiful Tokyo or parts surrounding for the past two days because I've been in one meeting after another, generally working 12-15 hour days since I got here. I knew this wasn't going to be a vacation, but sheesh.

I have found my hosts to be very hard working but welcoming people, and they seem pleased by my attempts to use Japanese phrases (which I do only sparingly). I have discovered (thanks to ACM) that the little cotton bathrobe garment is called a yukata. I am attempting to hunt one down, maybe a silk version to go with it, for V on my return.

I also learned, quite by accident, that the little origami crane they place on my pillow is not just decorative, but it has clairvoyant properties as well...its color forecasts the weather for the following day: white for snow, red for bright sunshine... I have received three grey ones in three days....doh!

Hope to have more interesting things to report (you know, things that go on outside my hotel room) but who can say.

Off to a breakfast meeting.
posted by MT at 5:38 PM |

Lawyers and priests, working together...what's wrong with this picture?

It seems that the Catholic church is hiring high powered lawyers to defend against the rise of pedophelia charges against them, claiming that if they don’t do something they will go bankrupt. Boo hoo. The lawyers have begun employing the same greasy detestable tactics that defense lawyers always use in these circumstances, blaming the victim:

In Boston, archdiocese lawyers countersued a 6-year-old boy and his parents, accusing them of negligence for trusting the Catholic priest, the Rev. Paul R. Shanley, who allegedly molested him. It was a strategy similar to the one followed by lawyers for the Hawaii Archdiocese.

In that case, the mother being sued said her church's sacristan took her older boy under his wing after he had trained him to be an altar boy. Within a year, the church employee was suggesting the boy spend the night with him before early morning Masses. The mother agreed, believing the man was a much-needed father figure and a role model.

It wasn't until 1998, three years after the family moved to St. Louis and both sons were arrested for shoplifting, that the then-teenagers revealed to counselors that they were both allegedly abused. The sacristan was charged in 2000, and in October of that year, the mother sued the Hawaii diocese, the bishop, the parish and the sacristan.

Attorneys for the archdiocese did not return calls for comment.

I continue to find the church’s behavior in this entire matter to be nauseating and unforgivably self-serving. As this article suggests, they hide behind freedom of religion to protect their behind-the-scenes Enron-style document shredding and paper trail coverups. Now they’ve decided to become legal bulldogs to scare off any future claimants. I hope that the families who have been damaged become incensed and redouble their efforts.

posted by MT at 5:27 PM |

"If this color-carbon ticket says that I can fly the ocean, maybe I can think of what to say.
It's a clear reception, it's a long connection, and it's all the way across this mighty ocean."
David Wilcox

Well, I have arrived at the Tokyo Hilton, after 14 hours in the air. I have not yet seen much of anything since I met my clients at the airport (we were traveling together in busines class but didn't know it right away) and we traveled to the hotel together. Traveling is such second nature, it became important to look at the whole experience with a fresh eye, which was further compounded by the jet lag -- my body thought it was 3:00 am but the sun was bright.

So far, the differences are subtle. Big airports are big airports, and big hotels are big hotels. But the hour-plus bus ride to the hotel allowed me a few observations.

Even on a Sunday, the streets were choked with cars, and once in the city, we found the streets full of pedestrians. Everyone driving on a Sunday, according to our consultant on Japanese culture, was probably because many cannot drive their cars at any other time of the week easily. The city seems large yet compressed; even the main highways coming from the airport seem more narrow, more confined. The autos seem ideally suited to this, because they are all very compact. No SUVs here!! Anything resembling a mini-van appeared to be taller and thinner than American versions. Mostly Japanese cars, some German (BMW and VW) but they looked a little like those old VW buses from the sixties. Like a sharp turn or a high wind would topple them.

Our bus driver wore white gloves, and raised a hand in greeting every time one of other buses from the Aiport Limousine line passed us heading back towards the airport. I had been told that one pervasive difference here is the reliance on formality, a culture of respect and a strong sense of obligation and loyalty. I am already seeing this. Even in the thickest traffic, he raised his hand every time. Not seeing any road rage yet...although some of the folks "splitting lanes" on their motorcycles were probably taking their lives in their hands.

The landscape is lush and dense, populated with such a variety of unfamiliar trees that I'm having trouble finding ways to describe them. This was especially true on the way in. Thick, high trees that droop down like ancient dancers, very graceful and yet conveying a sense of incredible age. No two look the same, some short and squat, others tall and lanky, with all shades of green mixed in. I hope to have time to see some gardens or parks in the next couple of days.

We are staying on the executive business levels of the hotel, which means lots of attention for the weary American business traveler. Here again, the differences are subtle. The room is expansive and yet spartan all the same (two tiny pillows for the king-size bed). I have my choice of two bathrobes, one terrycloth, one thinner cotton with a more Asian design to it. (I must learn the words for these things.) Two pairs of slippers in the closet. The windows are made to resemble sliding doors with thin paper covering them, so the light coming through is muted and pleasant.

Instead of a little Mr. Coffee, I have this magnificent electric hot pot (holds maybe a liter of water) and small china cups. A little plastic box holds these very delicate green tea bags. When the house staff came by to turn down my bed, they left a small origami crane on the pillow instead of chocolate. Next to the bed is a small flashlight, a bible in Japanese and English, and The Teaching of Buddha, also translated in both languages.

Subtle differences.

They don't routinely give you an iron, so I had to request one from housekeeping. The housekeeper came by in minutes, and graciously set it up for me. None of the controls are in English, so I have to determine the appropriate temperature by tapping the plate and hoping for the best.

Have some reading to do this morning, to remind myself what the appropriate terms are when meeting all of these people for the first time.

Meishi o doozo. "Here is my business card."
Doozo yoroshiku. "I ask you to treat me favorably," or "I beg your indulgence."

Whee!
posted by MT at 4:14 PM |

Oh now I've done it.

What a difference an s makes...
Consider:
Dominatrices feels wrong.
Dominatrices feel wrong.

I am having a very productive Friday.



posted by MT at 2:11 PM |

"When I'm around you Buffy I find myself needing to know the plural of apocalypse."
Riley Finn, BTVS

Yes I know, more TV things, but this isn't about TV. It's about the neural flailings and random associations (often clever or otherwise useful) that frequently come in the shower. I suspect I'm not alone in this. I also suspect two mechanisms may be at work: First, the hot water increases blood flow to the brain, and since the probability that one is showering in the early morning, thus still partially riding the REM wave, is pretty good, these things combine to generate cerebral randomness. The second reason is much more simple: according to Murphy's law, I will have my best and most useful ideas when I'm in a situation that will not allow me to write them down...

This one wasn't particularly useful, but it just came back to me, and in the interest of purging my brain, here it is: if we have one appendix but two appendices, one matrix but two matrices, what is the plural of dominatrix?

Perhaps, like the "apocalypse" example above most of us won't need the answer more than, say, once (:-)) but still...dominatrices just feels wrong.


posted by MT at 2:05 PM |

The eyes of children see more

Some photography and other artwork from children in Kosovo.

Be moved.




posted by MT at 10:25 PM |

I wish you were here on this postcard day.

Heading to Japan in a couple of days, as some of you know. Business travel is as automatic as breathing for me, especially given the way the year has progressed so far, but even so I'm pretty anxious about it. Philotic connections willing, I'll have blog access there (staying at the Tokyo Hilton which is apparently quite the haven for the weary American businessman, with all manner of creature comforts including a T1 line and maybe even a Playstation in my room..who can say?)

So the plan is to use this as a sort of immediate journal of the next seven days or so.

I'm bringing my camera, and if the security scanners don't kill my film, I may even have some photos to post. It's going to be a multimedia extravaganza. I'm working up the energy, you see.

But mostly I'm bummed about missing my daughter's birthday.

posted by MT at 10:13 PM |

Honey, is that you...?

I’m not sure what is more bizarre about this product, the fact the somewhere, a consultant or room full of consultants concocted the needs analysis that said “Go ye! And be blessed in your marketing of these pills," or the wooden commercials that I keep hearing on the radio for this…um…supplement.

Better living through chemistry, I suppose.

posted by MT at 9:59 PM |

Television! Teacher, mother (secret lover)...
Come family, let us all bask in television's warm glowing warming glow.
Homer J.

I've been struck with the literary qualities of some of my favorite TV personalities this week. (Working overlong, the most recreation I've had has been TV). So it occurs to me, recently, that Angel has become less of a whiney git and more of a true tragic figure. And I'm not sure how the transformation occurred, but I'm intrigued by it all the same. The pivotal moment came for me when he tried to kill his friend for kidnaping his son. No regard for the motive. Never mind that the friend thought he was going to kill his son, so the motives were just and probably jutified as well. But even though the rational explanation was perfectly adequate, he still reacted like a grief-stricken parent and lashed out.

And that said more about his humanity than any of the mea maxima culpa chest-beating he's been engaged in for the last couple of seasons. Having been cursed by Gypsies with a Catholic soul, he doesn't have much wiggle room there. But he was moved to kill in retaliation for the loss of a child, a child who represented (not surprisingly) redemption of a sort he could not achieve on his own.

Which brings me to the whole issue of innocence, infancy, redemption and parenthood. And not necessarily in that order.

As a parent, I think I would have done the same thing. Though at the time I was struck by how irrational the whole thing was. But maybe that's the point.

Anyway, it's just TV.



posted by MT at 9:41 PM |

"These people are the backbone of your casino-based economy"

More on the headline momentarily...

Had the oddest feeling today, stuck inside working all day, about ten hours not all in a row. Beautiful out here in the Philly area, crisp and breezy and bright. And I had the briefest of lucid realizations that I am working too hard when I began grumbling around, oh, 8:00 am (having been up for two hours already) because that crisp and clear sunlight was streaming through the blinds and casting a glare on my computer screen, making it hard to read. And I suddenly was back in the dorm, listening to the other kids playing hackey-sack in the courtyard and slamming cheap beer with Bruce Springsteen or whoever on the radio while I was plugging away on the old Epson QX-16 (back when Windows was just a gleam in Bill's eye) in some equally messy (albeit much smaller) room ....it was disconcerting.

Which brings us, gentle reader, to the real point of this evening's diatribe. Speaking of cheap beer, that is, not dorm flashbacks. It seems the good people at Anheuser Busch have decided that they want to market a low-carb beer with the dubious name of Michelob Ultra.

Um....isn't that like marketing low-fat lard? At some point you lose the essence of the thing. I brewed a stout once many years ago, and I seem to remember that grain figured heavily in the entire process. So I'm not sure how one conconcts a low-carb grain-based product, unless it isn't truly beer at all, but just another malt beverage like Zima (which is really just Sprite with a kick). My apologies for the blatant product placement.

So just feeling a bit whistful (with a teaspoon of self pity thrown in for good measure). And ranting about bad beer (bad American beer, which takes it to a whole other level, hence the headline, which doesn't come from me but from a delightful MST3K episode I saw recently).

Hope you enjoyed your day.

posted by MT at 10:23 PM |

"The Dynamics of Interbeing and Monological Imperatives in Dick and Jane: A Study in Psychic Transrelational Gender Modes."


This Calvin and Hobbes cartoon from 1993 is one of the most reproduced cartoons I've ever seen -- it found its way onto the doors of faculty offices all over the place. I tried to track it down to answer one of Dr. Wendy's questions about the exact wording of the title that Calvin chose, and I found this link to a paper on interdisciplinary discourse and education. It's a challenge to read the whole thing -- it's pretty dense, although some of the names and ideas ring bells for me (Bakhtin and dialogism from a reading group we started in graduate school). The following quote is from the body of the article where the C and H cartoon is described:

Dialogic literacy and learning suggest similar directions for writing programs across disciplines and for writing in multicultural classrooms. Students are commonly oriented to disciplinary academic discourse in two ways, both of which have been illustrated in Calvin and Hobbes cartoons in recent years. Students may see--and may be encouraged to see--disciplinary discourse as a mode of meaning completely cut off from their everyday concerns, as in a cartoon in which Calvin, getting an arithmetic lesson from his father, "cannot" successfully add eight cents and four cents because, as he says, "those four" (the ones his father asked him to give him to add to the eight cents already on the table) "are mine." As long as he refuses to separate the abstract mathematical principles from the reality of his economic situation ("you're the one with a steady paycheck," he says to his father), he will not be able to learn his lesson. In contrast, students may see--and be encouraged to see--disciplinary discourse as a means of exercising power. In another cartoon, Calvin explains to Hobbes that "with a little practice, writing can be an intimidating and impenetrable fog," and hands Hobbes his book report entitled "The Dynamics of Interbeing and Monological Imperatives in Dick and Jane: A Study in Psychic Transrelational Gender Modes." Both of these orientations depend on a "monologic" view of academic discourse as a system that does not change in response to the "ignorant" or "naive" uses students--or other "outsiders"--make of it but instead acts to exclude them until they accede to its demands. The same monologic view of disciplinary discourse inhibits interdisciplinary research and makes too much academic scholarship and research incomprehensible and thus nearly useless to anyone outside a particular discipline or outside academia."(emphasis mine)

I absolutely love this, for a couple of reasons. First, I think she's right -- the power of academic writing (or any specialized writing) is, in some ways, derived by the ability of the writer to assume that only a select portion of the audience will actually understand the ideas. Experts in topic A like to talk to other experts about topic A and will attempt to bring other conversations around to topic A. My expertise in this area distinguishes me from the non-expert, and the lack of understanding helps to cement that difference.

But second, and more importantly, this whole essay is a wonderful example of exactly the kind of thing she is talking about -- making writing an "intimidating and impenetrable fog." HOLY COW - we're talking about a cartoon here! I used to use C and H cartoons in my classes all the time, because Bill Watterson its creator is obviously a very intelligent guy with a passing knowledge of lots of different areas (a true renaissance cartoonist, I think).

But nothing kills a funny cartoon more completely than a scholarly discourse about it. Hoofa.

posted by MT at 1:11 PM |

The hues that shape our lives...

I personally think this is a load of bunk, but I found my profile interesting, and apt, all the same. Check out Colorgenics to generate your own profile. I will have to do some investigating to find out more about the "world-renown psychologist Dr. Paul Goldin" who devised this little test (just a coincidence that his name is a color label?? Think he was born to do this work?)

For what it's worth, here's my profile:

You have always longed for tenderness, love and a sensitivity of feeling into which you would like to blend. You are a very gentle warm person and responsive to 'All things bright and beautiful'. This personifies a caring person, a person who 'needs' and indeed 'needs to be needed'.

You are a leader and possibly at this time in a position of authority, but you are experiencing problems. You are not quite sure how to handle the present situation.

You are a perfectionist in everything that you put your hand to. You are demanding and very exacting in the standards you apply to your choice of colleagues and friends -perhaps you demand too much from people. That perfection you seek in a particular person is illusive - perhaps it does not even exist.

You are being unduly influenced by the situation that is all around you. You do not like the feeling of loneliness and whatever it is that seems to separate you from others. You know that life can be wonderful and you are anxious to experience life in all its aspects, to live it to the full. You therefore resent any restriction or limitations that are being imposed on you and you insist on going it alone.

You wish to be left in peace... no more conflict and no more differences of opinion. In fact you just don't want to be involved in arguments of any shape or form. All you want is for 'them' to get on with it - and to leave you alone.

Of course the real question is, what happens if I take it again in five minutes?

Now if you would just leave me alone and stop bugging me...the colors tell me to say that.


posted by MT at 1:37 PM |