The end of the semester seems like the perfect time to reflect briefly on my personal relationship with the world. What better way to do this than via the things that freak me out?
1. Fear: Choking on food. Source: I remember getting freaked out by choking after learning about it and the Heimlich maneuver in school. I used to dream both about choking and about not being able to Heimlich someone who was choking.
2. Fear: brain tumor. Source: In my high school Thanatology course (i.e., death and dying), we watched a documentary about someone with terminal cancer. I remember that the film was about a woman who had some sort of brain cancer. She had lost all of her hair and the side of her skull had caved in. The caved in skull freaked me out.
3. Fear: lightning. Source: I now live in one of the most active lightning areas in the world. When Yidg and I were on campus for the first time (getting IDs and all that) there was a storm and a professor was struck dead. People are struck dead every year. And we get a lot of sudden thunderstorms. You should see the frantic sprint I will take from car to front door when it is storming.
4. Fear: murky bodies of water. Source: there are two from my formative years. The first was the movie Jaws. This has to do with not being able to see the things in the water that will take a big bite of flesh off my body. The second one (another source of nightmares like choking) was what seemed like endless warnings in the 70s about swimming in ponds or lakes and getting caught in the underwater plant life and drowning. So, I guess this is two fears: drowning and getting eaten by aquatic wildlife.
5. Fear: being an untalented scholar. Source: the disparity between getting heaps of praise and high expectations in my graduate program and the reality of high volume rejections/mysterious requirements of blind review journal publishing. From this dissonance between praise and rejection, I have developed a fear of writing.
updated to add:
6. Highschool fear: herpes (pre-AIDS). Those sex ed classes freaked me out about herpes. Because it was permanent and painful and you had to wear it on your face like a badge of shame (and that was the good kind of herpes).
06 May 2005
03 May 2005
the medium is the message; or, whither the shame of formality?
Several people among our academic blogging group has expressed frustration at the gibberish shorthand of text messaging that has increasingly overtaken student emails that seemingly shoul dbe more formal. So, to extend the discussion, I submit the following email that I received today 2.5 hours after my final exam ended. It was sent, of course, by someone in the class who failed to show up.
Quoting a student who I think is in a position where formality is paramount:
"hello.
im sry to announce but i just realized this mornign that my early morning exam overlapped with yours, and i thought i would finish early and then come to take yours, but i didnt, and i didnt know wat to do, then i had to turn around and have an exam from 1-3 so i couldnt notify anyone. is there any way possible for me to make up this exam?? thank you so much for understanding."
I would like to add that the final exams scheduled at my time slot were only available for courses that met at 11:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So, the only way I can see that there was a conflict is if the student was taking two courses that were scheduled at the same time (barring, of course, a teacher who decided to make up his or her own exam schedule).
If you don't have the time or energy to actually spell out full words (I will and always do forgive the occassional typo),. it becomes very hard to take you seriously. Sry dude, you need a bttr stry.
Quoting a student who I think is in a position where formality is paramount:
"hello.
im sry to announce but i just realized this mornign that my early morning exam overlapped with yours, and i thought i would finish early and then come to take yours, but i didnt, and i didnt know wat to do, then i had to turn around and have an exam from 1-3 so i couldnt notify anyone. is there any way possible for me to make up this exam?? thank you so much for understanding."
I would like to add that the final exams scheduled at my time slot were only available for courses that met at 11:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So, the only way I can see that there was a conflict is if the student was taking two courses that were scheduled at the same time (barring, of course, a teacher who decided to make up his or her own exam schedule).
If you don't have the time or energy to actually spell out full words (I will and always do forgive the occassional typo),. it becomes very hard to take you seriously. Sry dude, you need a bttr stry.
11 April 2005
Scrivener makes my life easy
My Unitarian Jihad names are (depending on my overall mood):
The Broadsword of Mild Reason (good days)
The Atom Bomb of Moderation (bad days)
The Broadsword of Mild Reason (good days)
The Atom Bomb of Moderation (bad days)
05 April 2005
SOSSM and definition of kinesthesis
People visited my blog recently via the following searches:
#1 idiot
Kathy Acker
cops can't dance
emily durkheim (yes, the lesser known sister; she's about as famous as Jesus' little brother Gabby Christ)
micro burst weather
horsecock
lightning brand canning jars
kinesthesis (10 people came to me after searching for the definition of kinesthesis. I think that I will actually post a definition of kinesthesis below so that their searches are completed more efficiently).
kinesthesis n. 1. The sensation of movement in the body, sometimes referred to as "muscle sense." The perception of such sensations. The French phenomenologist Maurice Merleau Ponty discusses this phenomenon as proprioception, or a perception of one's own body (as a distinct object of and for experience, thereby to be distinguished from the brute physical reality of one's own body that Gilles Deleuze calls "The Meat"). Also , kinaesthesia and kinesthesia. 2. ~ breakthrough n. the name of an academic blog that, to borrow a phrase from a blogging mathematician, is "not too thinky." Though the proper name of this blog was derived from a list of gibberish in a spam email, the author of this blog became smitten with the suggestiveness of the phrase and its implications for the possibilities of discovery and the pursuit of new paradigms of bodily movement and experience.
#1 idiot
Kathy Acker
cops can't dance
emily durkheim (yes, the lesser known sister; she's about as famous as Jesus' little brother Gabby Christ)
micro burst weather
horsecock
lightning brand canning jars
kinesthesis (10 people came to me after searching for the definition of kinesthesis. I think that I will actually post a definition of kinesthesis below so that their searches are completed more efficiently).
kinesthesis n. 1. The sensation of movement in the body, sometimes referred to as "muscle sense." The perception of such sensations. The French phenomenologist Maurice Merleau Ponty discusses this phenomenon as proprioception, or a perception of one's own body (as a distinct object of and for experience, thereby to be distinguished from the brute physical reality of one's own body that Gilles Deleuze calls "The Meat"). Also , kinaesthesia and kinesthesia. 2. ~ breakthrough n. the name of an academic blog that, to borrow a phrase from a blogging mathematician, is "not too thinky." Though the proper name of this blog was derived from a list of gibberish in a spam email, the author of this blog became smitten with the suggestiveness of the phrase and its implications for the possibilities of discovery and the pursuit of new paradigms of bodily movement and experience.
24 March 2005
now the chronicle of higher ed is ripping me off
In early February, I wrote four posts that I called the "academic neuroses files" (see Willy Loman Syndrome for an example). Today, Professor Yidg shows me the March 4th Chronicle Review, in which a couple of hacks published a few "advanced symptoms for advanced degrees." I'm incensed! Such blatant theivery. And in the Chronicle of Higher Ed! Where is the outrage! The OUTRAGE!
Well, I think I've stumbled upon another academic neurosis, Original Spin: the obsessive, nearly paranoid need to try to take credit for coming up with ideas that have clearly been thought-up, rehashed, and recycled endlessly; well, certainly longer than you or I had even thought about being an academic. Sufferers will defend their false and faulty claim more vociferously than they will pursue actual original work, turning to the teachings of the Sophists, Self-helpists, and Spin-doctorists as a last-ditch effort to live up to the ultimate measure of academic success: being interesting. Original Spin is really a global malady, as it seaps into the afflicted's overall perceptual environment. Luckily, original spin is similar to the chicken pox, as nearly everyone will catch it at some point. Most people recover fairly quickly, with little scarring. Experts note that it's much better to catch it early in one's career than later on when it can be quite dangerous.
Well, I think I've stumbled upon another academic neurosis, Original Spin: the obsessive, nearly paranoid need to try to take credit for coming up with ideas that have clearly been thought-up, rehashed, and recycled endlessly; well, certainly longer than you or I had even thought about being an academic. Sufferers will defend their false and faulty claim more vociferously than they will pursue actual original work, turning to the teachings of the Sophists, Self-helpists, and Spin-doctorists as a last-ditch effort to live up to the ultimate measure of academic success: being interesting. Original Spin is really a global malady, as it seaps into the afflicted's overall perceptual environment. Luckily, original spin is similar to the chicken pox, as nearly everyone will catch it at some point. Most people recover fairly quickly, with little scarring. Experts note that it's much better to catch it early in one's career than later on when it can be quite dangerous.
06 March 2005
the stupidity of cleverness
Perhaps a lesson for Liberals is buried in the observations of Horkheimer and Adorno: "One of the lessons of the Hitler period is the stupidity of cleverness. How many were the expert arguments with which Jews dismissed the likelihood of Hitler's rise, when it was already as clear as daylight. [. . .] And in any case, according to the clever people, fascism was impossible in the West. Clever people have always made things easy for barbarians, because they are so stupid. It is well-informed, farsighted judgments, the prognoses based on statistics and experience, the observations which begin: "I happen to be an expert in this field," it is the well-founded, conclusive statements which are untrue."
Continuing, "The medium of traditional bourgeois intelligence, discussion, is in decline. Even individuals can no longer converse, and know it; that is why they have turned card games into a serious, responsible institution that calls on all their powers, so that although there are no conversations, the silence goes unheard. It is no different on the big stage. A fascist does not like to be spoken to. When others have their say, he takes it as an impudent interruption. He is impervious to reason because he recognizes it only in concessions made by others."
Continuing, "The medium of traditional bourgeois intelligence, discussion, is in decline. Even individuals can no longer converse, and know it; that is why they have turned card games into a serious, responsible institution that calls on all their powers, so that although there are no conversations, the silence goes unheard. It is no different on the big stage. A fascist does not like to be spoken to. When others have their say, he takes it as an impudent interruption. He is impervious to reason because he recognizes it only in concessions made by others."
24 February 2005
will to blogger
Ok, so the Nietzsche reference isn't really relevant here, but I'm trying to will myself back into action. My cold has gotten progressively worse over the past 4 days, so the only reasonable thing to do is to will it away at this point. I will start with something simple, the upcomig 10 songs shuffling on my iTunes:
Ghost of a different dream, by guided by voices
Army of me, by Bjork
Yanqui go home, by Camper Van Beethoven
This is New, by Wilco
Easy/Lucky/Free, by bright eyes
Bride and Bridle, by The Long Winters
Keep on Runnin', by Cat Power
Sweet Caroline, by Niel Diamond
Bad Mouth, by Fugazi
Champagne from a paper cup, by Death Cab for Cutie
[editor's note: Death Cab For Cutie, whose leader also leads The Postal Service, has a live EP coming out on Tuesday. Details can be found here.]
Being chronically late on the memes, I will provide some grossly abbreviated items.
Three Things I've Done that you probably haven't:
1. Taught philosophy at the Jet Propulsion Labratory
2. Made out with twins, at the same time
3. Read A Thousand Plateaus by Deleuze and Guattari 4 times
Three Things I Haven't Done that you probably have:
1. Seen Gone with the Wind
2. Owned a car in the past 10 years
3. Read Hamlet
I said a while back that I've set up a system for playing vinyle records through a preamp and a mixer and into my computer. I've been converting all of these 7" singles I've gotten with indie music magazines into digital format so I will more likely listen to them. However, I've also converted some other strange things that I'll be able to use in my impending audio essay/performance for an upcoming conference (the piece will be about Bush and God and Voice and Machines). Recent audio additions from vinyl include a self-help record from the 50s, Earl Nightingale gives you the strangest secret; a biology/physilogy record that accompanies a plastic model of the human body, "The Talking Torso" (1968); and the Don Ameche version of "Co-Star: the record acting game--you act scenes oppopsite your favorite star" (1976). There are some great soundbites to be pirated from these gems for maximum auditory effect.
Anyway, I'm willing myself back to action. I hope to catch up on my blog reading, too. And I'll be skipping tomorrow's faculty meeting (hooray!)
Ghost of a different dream, by guided by voices
Army of me, by Bjork
Yanqui go home, by Camper Van Beethoven
This is New, by Wilco
Easy/Lucky/Free, by bright eyes
Bride and Bridle, by The Long Winters
Keep on Runnin', by Cat Power
Sweet Caroline, by Niel Diamond
Bad Mouth, by Fugazi
Champagne from a paper cup, by Death Cab for Cutie
[editor's note: Death Cab For Cutie, whose leader also leads The Postal Service, has a live EP coming out on Tuesday. Details can be found here.]
Being chronically late on the memes, I will provide some grossly abbreviated items.
Three Things I've Done that you probably haven't:
1. Taught philosophy at the Jet Propulsion Labratory
2. Made out with twins, at the same time
3. Read A Thousand Plateaus by Deleuze and Guattari 4 times
Three Things I Haven't Done that you probably have:
1. Seen Gone with the Wind
2. Owned a car in the past 10 years
3. Read Hamlet
I said a while back that I've set up a system for playing vinyle records through a preamp and a mixer and into my computer. I've been converting all of these 7" singles I've gotten with indie music magazines into digital format so I will more likely listen to them. However, I've also converted some other strange things that I'll be able to use in my impending audio essay/performance for an upcoming conference (the piece will be about Bush and God and Voice and Machines). Recent audio additions from vinyl include a self-help record from the 50s, Earl Nightingale gives you the strangest secret; a biology/physilogy record that accompanies a plastic model of the human body, "The Talking Torso" (1968); and the Don Ameche version of "Co-Star: the record acting game--you act scenes oppopsite your favorite star" (1976). There are some great soundbites to be pirated from these gems for maximum auditory effect.
Anyway, I'm willing myself back to action. I hope to catch up on my blog reading, too. And I'll be skipping tomorrow's faculty meeting (hooray!)
19 February 2005
#1 idiot
I just read this in the latest Harper's. One of the selections is titled Poetry Slams, and is a translation of three political poems published in North Korean literary journals. Here is my favorite, "#1 Idiot," by Youngbin Han (trans. Yunhee Lee):
Hey Bush,
You're famous, Mr. American President.
You're really an idiot.
Not just an idiot; you're a swanky idiot.
If they gather all the idiots under the sky
and have a contest to decide who is the real idiot,
then you should hurry and enter the contest.
I'm sure you'll win first place with no problem.
You know, idiots are usually thick-skinned
and don't feel embarrassment,
a sign that shows their stupidity.
So in this respect you are truly born stupid.
When you go to the ranch to rest for a month on a whim,
you are using the talent of yours
that no other idiots could ever have.
If there is a judge who doesn't know that,
he must not be a human from this planet.
Your greatest talent is
your audacity to start a fight with us.
Do you envy the audacity of the tiger moth
that flies into the fire not knowing
he's going to be burned to death?
There are so many different kinds of idiots,
but nobody will dare compete with you.
You have no equals
so you are surely the #1 idiot.
Ha, ha, ha, the #1 idiot is
President Bush of the U.S. now.
_______________________
Now, some parts of this poem are better than others. I welcome discussion, analysis, or critique. Personally, I thought that the "must not be a human from this planet" line was a bit sophomoric, and really did not further the rhetoric, imagery, or flow of the work. The big swinging dick moment (the fifth stanza) is also a weakness: the pissing match rhetoric reproduces the very idiocy that the author seems to be criticizing. Finally, I love the childish glee of the "ha, ha, ha" moment at the end. This is part of the poem that conjures a basic pathos of the temporary glee resulting from hurling an insult.
I'm sure that the those of you who are poets and literature professors might have something more substantial to add. And others, like the Bitch Doctor, may argue that Larry Summers or someone else deserves a fair chance at #1 idiot.
So, who should be nominated for the category of #1 idiot?
Hey Bush,
You're famous, Mr. American President.
You're really an idiot.
Not just an idiot; you're a swanky idiot.
If they gather all the idiots under the sky
and have a contest to decide who is the real idiot,
then you should hurry and enter the contest.
I'm sure you'll win first place with no problem.
You know, idiots are usually thick-skinned
and don't feel embarrassment,
a sign that shows their stupidity.
So in this respect you are truly born stupid.
When you go to the ranch to rest for a month on a whim,
you are using the talent of yours
that no other idiots could ever have.
If there is a judge who doesn't know that,
he must not be a human from this planet.
Your greatest talent is
your audacity to start a fight with us.
Do you envy the audacity of the tiger moth
that flies into the fire not knowing
he's going to be burned to death?
There are so many different kinds of idiots,
but nobody will dare compete with you.
You have no equals
so you are surely the #1 idiot.
Ha, ha, ha, the #1 idiot is
President Bush of the U.S. now.
_______________________
Now, some parts of this poem are better than others. I welcome discussion, analysis, or critique. Personally, I thought that the "must not be a human from this planet" line was a bit sophomoric, and really did not further the rhetoric, imagery, or flow of the work. The big swinging dick moment (the fifth stanza) is also a weakness: the pissing match rhetoric reproduces the very idiocy that the author seems to be criticizing. Finally, I love the childish glee of the "ha, ha, ha" moment at the end. This is part of the poem that conjures a basic pathos of the temporary glee resulting from hurling an insult.
I'm sure that the those of you who are poets and literature professors might have something more substantial to add. And others, like the Bitch Doctor, may argue that Larry Summers or someone else deserves a fair chance at #1 idiot.
So, who should be nominated for the category of #1 idiot?
14 February 2005
conversations with my dogs
Me: Stop eating your poop! That's disgusting!
dog eating poop: munch munch, pause, look at me, look at poop, take one more bite, walk away.
Me: stop barking like an idiot!
dog barking like an idiot: pause, grumble, grumble, growl, BARK . . .
Me . . .Sto-ahahahahp it, stopitstopitstopit!!
dog: looking at me like I am the one barking like an idiot, lies down on ground, sighs, looks at me, BARK BARK BARK!
Me (as dog is flailing around on leash): would you cut it out? please. you're embarassing me. Stop fucking around.
Me (remembering this dog is deaf): giving the sign for "stop fucking around" over and over.
dog (doing some sort of lunatic dog yoga): acting crazy, brief pause, quick stop, into crazy eyes, back and forth, into grab the leash with your mouth and shake with the might of entire body, stop, sit down, lick butt. Repeat.
Me (at 4am): what do you want? don't you dare try to tell me you are hungry. I mean it--go back to sleep!
Me (again remember this dog is deaf): arrrgh! wah wah wah! stop licking me. Ouch! you just scratch off half my face!
Me (after 20-30 minutes of this): OK, fine, let's go get your breakfast.
Me (5 minutes later): I can't believe you are sleeping like a baby--but could you please get off me?
Me: stop smelling me.
dog: sniff sniff, pause, head cocked to one side, sniff.
Me: I love you guys. ya bunch of weirdos.
Edited to be in memory of Lowkey, Dr. Gym-Partner's Great Pyreneese, who died today. We'll miss you, big guy
dog eating poop: munch munch, pause, look at me, look at poop, take one more bite, walk away.
Me: stop barking like an idiot!
dog barking like an idiot: pause, grumble, grumble, growl, BARK . . .
Me . . .Sto-ahahahahp it, stopitstopitstopit!!
dog: looking at me like I am the one barking like an idiot, lies down on ground, sighs, looks at me, BARK BARK BARK!
Me (as dog is flailing around on leash): would you cut it out? please. you're embarassing me. Stop fucking around.
Me (remembering this dog is deaf): giving the sign for "stop fucking around" over and over.
dog (doing some sort of lunatic dog yoga): acting crazy, brief pause, quick stop, into crazy eyes, back and forth, into grab the leash with your mouth and shake with the might of entire body, stop, sit down, lick butt. Repeat.
Me (at 4am): what do you want? don't you dare try to tell me you are hungry. I mean it--go back to sleep!
Me (again remember this dog is deaf): arrrgh! wah wah wah! stop licking me. Ouch! you just scratch off half my face!
Me (after 20-30 minutes of this): OK, fine, let's go get your breakfast.
Me (5 minutes later): I can't believe you are sleeping like a baby--but could you please get off me?
Me: stop smelling me.
dog: sniff sniff, pause, head cocked to one side, sniff.
Me: I love you guys. ya bunch of weirdos.
Edited to be in memory of Lowkey, Dr. Gym-Partner's Great Pyreneese, who died today. We'll miss you, big guy
09 February 2005
academic neuroses files (part four)
Ailment: Lookatmeitis
Manifestation: all forms of communication
Case Study: Subject starts a blog and then is very surprised to realize after only a couple weeks that he is worried if anyone is reading. Should there be more comments? Should subject be doing something to network and build relationships? Are people linking and blogrolling? Do they see how clever he (thinks he) is? Subject is not sure how to understand new information about self: he is needy for attention, or validation, or some kind of positive contact related (even if in pseudonymity) to others of his ilk. Nice blogger seems to take some interest, seeming to understanding subject's innate insecurities. He starts blogrolling others, gets a sitemeter, starts commenting to others, and is overwhelmed that he is starting to make some new writerly/readerly relationships with said ilk. Though he has trouble keeping up with and reading as many blogs as he wants to every day, he checks out a post by New Kid about the different kinds of academic blogs/bloggers, referencing a blogger whom subject has not yet stumbled upon. Subject follows a link to Arete, who (how fortuitous!) has recently written a post that is a guide for new bloggers, which follows a hilariously juvenile-mundane photo of found (anti-) art. Guidebook addresses blogging form of lookatmeitis and wisely reframes the ailment as a failure of practical communication. Subject is even more happy to see that sagacious veteran blogger is doctoral student in field very similar to subject's own. Subject appears to be less down of academy at present time.
Edited to apologize that I don't think I know how to do the trackback thing correctly, as evidenced by the link to "guide for new bloggers," which went nowhere when I checked it.
Manifestation: all forms of communication
Case Study: Subject starts a blog and then is very surprised to realize after only a couple weeks that he is worried if anyone is reading. Should there be more comments? Should subject be doing something to network and build relationships? Are people linking and blogrolling? Do they see how clever he (thinks he) is? Subject is not sure how to understand new information about self: he is needy for attention, or validation, or some kind of positive contact related (even if in pseudonymity) to others of his ilk. Nice blogger seems to take some interest, seeming to understanding subject's innate insecurities. He starts blogrolling others, gets a sitemeter, starts commenting to others, and is overwhelmed that he is starting to make some new writerly/readerly relationships with said ilk. Though he has trouble keeping up with and reading as many blogs as he wants to every day, he checks out a post by New Kid about the different kinds of academic blogs/bloggers, referencing a blogger whom subject has not yet stumbled upon. Subject follows a link to Arete, who (how fortuitous!) has recently written a post that is a guide for new bloggers, which follows a hilariously juvenile-mundane photo of found (anti-) art. Guidebook addresses blogging form of lookatmeitis and wisely reframes the ailment as a failure of practical communication. Subject is even more happy to see that sagacious veteran blogger is doctoral student in field very similar to subject's own. Subject appears to be less down of academy at present time.
Edited to apologize that I don't think I know how to do the trackback thing correctly, as evidenced by the link to "guide for new bloggers," which went nowhere when I checked it.
07 February 2005
academic neuroses files (part three)
Ailment: Shit Midas Disorder
Manifestation: Publishing
Case Study: Subject believes that every publishing project he touches turns to crap. Ailment made acute presentation when subject received news that ambitious edited collection (the complete manuscript of which had been with excited acquisitions editor of major publisher for one full year) finally was rejected on the grounds that it "fell outside the scope of their general lists." Subject is further distraught/confused because reviews were positive. However, subject is getting all to used to strong reviews being coupled with rejections, which slowly takes toll on former joy at research and wanting to (to use the parlance of our time) "engage in discourse." Subject exhibiting some symptoms of Eggs in One Basket Disease, as he thought that payoff from huge amount of labor put into this project would take him one step closer to being viable as possible future candidate for possible tenure-track position in department he is indentured to. Also showing signs of Sour Grapes Disorder, making flippant and unreflective proclamations about the state of academic future. [analyst note: Real blame may lie with the inherent flaws of blind review process for humanities research, a journal system overburdened with increasing publishing requirements for tenure (and even for initial jobs), and a publishing structure that favors conservative research or brand name institutions or insider information or academic nepotism].
Manifestation: Publishing
Case Study: Subject believes that every publishing project he touches turns to crap. Ailment made acute presentation when subject received news that ambitious edited collection (the complete manuscript of which had been with excited acquisitions editor of major publisher for one full year) finally was rejected on the grounds that it "fell outside the scope of their general lists." Subject is further distraught/confused because reviews were positive. However, subject is getting all to used to strong reviews being coupled with rejections, which slowly takes toll on former joy at research and wanting to (to use the parlance of our time) "engage in discourse." Subject exhibiting some symptoms of Eggs in One Basket Disease, as he thought that payoff from huge amount of labor put into this project would take him one step closer to being viable as possible future candidate for possible tenure-track position in department he is indentured to. Also showing signs of Sour Grapes Disorder, making flippant and unreflective proclamations about the state of academic future. [analyst note: Real blame may lie with the inherent flaws of blind review process for humanities research, a journal system overburdened with increasing publishing requirements for tenure (and even for initial jobs), and a publishing structure that favors conservative research or brand name institutions or insider information or academic nepotism].
06 February 2005
academic neuroses files (part two)
Ailment: Willy Loman Syndrome (formerly known as Hopeful Karma Disorder)
Manifestation: there will be a big payoff in the future if they like me
Case study: Subject (dr. m) has self-taught skills at web design and maintenance, obtained through reading source code and playing around with free trial html editing software before buying fancy web software studio. He cut his teeth on making websites for Dr. Yidg and Performance Artist Friend (both of which were given complete re-designs after skills were honed). Also made website for digital performance collective of which subject is a member. Having confidence, and hoping to score future favor with academic cohorts (a low percentage idea at best), subject has redone academic department's website, created website for tenured-colleague's institute, and (just this past week) coded and designed another tenured-colleague's media-rich essay for on-line publication. The latter turned out to be time-intensive tenfold of subjects original estimate (and, in humble opinion of subject, presents the essay in a way more interesting manner than prima facie content suggests). Subject, who has been toiling (thankfully and grovelinglily) as underpaid Visiting Instructor--benefits: yes; bonus and raises: no--thinks that such donation of creative and technological gifts will result in positive countergift [analyst's note: subject seems to be well-versed in, yet delusional about contemporary application of, research on gift logic by Mauss, Bataille, Derrida, etc., and thinks that moral reciprocity of countergift has now been put into play]. Though surface talk from "those in charge" has expressed effusive desire to secure more permanent academic job security for subject, the past three years have seen, in turn, no permission to search for a line, an unsucessful search for area unrelated to subject's work, and a possibly-successful search for other unrelated area. Subject, who attends all faculty meetings, has yet to hear anyone suggest a need for any position remotely related to subject's area(s) of expertise, yet somehow harbors hopes that an obscure non-grant-securing, humanities-based position will eventually (nay, magically) appear. Subject seems mostly unaltered in delusions, even after hearing early this day that probable ridiculously-high-paying non-university-alternative-job for-which-he-has-serious-insider-contact is "in a really slow period right now, so it doesn't look good." Subject appears slight bitter, but (inexplicably) remains hopeful that good things will come to those who are helpful, committed, and likeable. Analyst thinks subject is precious, and wishes the best for the poor bastard.
Manifestation: there will be a big payoff in the future if they like me
Case study: Subject (dr. m) has self-taught skills at web design and maintenance, obtained through reading source code and playing around with free trial html editing software before buying fancy web software studio. He cut his teeth on making websites for Dr. Yidg and Performance Artist Friend (both of which were given complete re-designs after skills were honed). Also made website for digital performance collective of which subject is a member. Having confidence, and hoping to score future favor with academic cohorts (a low percentage idea at best), subject has redone academic department's website, created website for tenured-colleague's institute, and (just this past week) coded and designed another tenured-colleague's media-rich essay for on-line publication. The latter turned out to be time-intensive tenfold of subjects original estimate (and, in humble opinion of subject, presents the essay in a way more interesting manner than prima facie content suggests). Subject, who has been toiling (thankfully and grovelinglily) as underpaid Visiting Instructor--benefits: yes; bonus and raises: no--thinks that such donation of creative and technological gifts will result in positive countergift [analyst's note: subject seems to be well-versed in, yet delusional about contemporary application of, research on gift logic by Mauss, Bataille, Derrida, etc., and thinks that moral reciprocity of countergift has now been put into play]. Though surface talk from "those in charge" has expressed effusive desire to secure more permanent academic job security for subject, the past three years have seen, in turn, no permission to search for a line, an unsucessful search for area unrelated to subject's work, and a possibly-successful search for other unrelated area. Subject, who attends all faculty meetings, has yet to hear anyone suggest a need for any position remotely related to subject's area(s) of expertise, yet somehow harbors hopes that an obscure non-grant-securing, humanities-based position will eventually (nay, magically) appear. Subject seems mostly unaltered in delusions, even after hearing early this day that probable ridiculously-high-paying non-university-alternative-job for-which-he-has-serious-insider-contact is "in a really slow period right now, so it doesn't look good." Subject appears slight bitter, but (inexplicably) remains hopeful that good things will come to those who are helpful, committed, and likeable. Analyst thinks subject is precious, and wishes the best for the poor bastard.
from the academic neuroses files (part one)
Ailment: chronic self-doubt
Manifestation: they must have made a mistake
Case Study: Subject (dr. m) has not been blazing a trail of publications, though many people have (had?) high hopes for him. Nevertheless, subject receives unsolicited email from editor of an exciting international on-line journal saying subject's name was given to him as a good person to place on journal's editorial board. Sceptically, subject goes to journal website to find list of editorial board members, where he spots the name of his dissertation advisor and several well-knowns, such as Judith Butler. Surely there has been a mistake. But, subject writes email and attaches CV (as requested) accepting the honor of serving on this board. Chronic Self-Doubt (CSD) sets in further when, one week later, no other contact has been made from editor (saying something like "welcome on board"). Subject's conclusion is that mistake in fact has been made (the realization coming after editor sees CV) and that editor hopes that subject will simply forget this little email exchange ever happened.
Manifestation: they must have made a mistake
Case Study: Subject (dr. m) has not been blazing a trail of publications, though many people have (had?) high hopes for him. Nevertheless, subject receives unsolicited email from editor of an exciting international on-line journal saying subject's name was given to him as a good person to place on journal's editorial board. Sceptically, subject goes to journal website to find list of editorial board members, where he spots the name of his dissertation advisor and several well-knowns, such as Judith Butler. Surely there has been a mistake. But, subject writes email and attaches CV (as requested) accepting the honor of serving on this board. Chronic Self-Doubt (CSD) sets in further when, one week later, no other contact has been made from editor (saying something like "welcome on board"). Subject's conclusion is that mistake in fact has been made (the realization coming after editor sees CV) and that editor hopes that subject will simply forget this little email exchange ever happened.
03 February 2005
brought to you by the letter F
From The Future Dictionary of America:
fauxkward adj. combination of "faux" and "awkward." Falsely awkward. Qualities such as false humility, fake shyness, and pseudo-goofballness can all be termed subclasses of fauxkwardness. Most often seen in stammering movie actors (Hugh Grant, when not playing a baddie) and not-really-klutzy actresses (Julia Roberts, when playing anyone, including herself), but possibly also seen in alleged world leaders (Bush II, when reading his script very carefully).
floorganization n. the use of the lower inside surface of a hollow structure for the arranging and stacking of paperwork.
Froon's Law n. a mathematical equation that reduces to quantitative certainty the desirabilty of any micro- or macroeconomic activity. Also known as the Unified Theory of Enough. Revolutionary for its harmonizing of free-market growth and innovation with sustainability and equitable wealth distribution, Froon's Law accurately determines the point at which the opportunity for profit ceases to be a constructive agent of innovation and becomes instead destructive in social, environmental, or other terms. [blogger's note: this definition is abridged, as it carries on for another full page about Holistic Quantitative Tables, Elementary Rapacity Coefficients, twig-and-berry mines, long blond moustaches, and a global Culture of Enough]
fauxkward adj. combination of "faux" and "awkward." Falsely awkward. Qualities such as false humility, fake shyness, and pseudo-goofballness can all be termed subclasses of fauxkwardness. Most often seen in stammering movie actors (Hugh Grant, when not playing a baddie) and not-really-klutzy actresses (Julia Roberts, when playing anyone, including herself), but possibly also seen in alleged world leaders (Bush II, when reading his script very carefully).
floorganization n. the use of the lower inside surface of a hollow structure for the arranging and stacking of paperwork.
Froon's Law n. a mathematical equation that reduces to quantitative certainty the desirabilty of any micro- or macroeconomic activity. Also known as the Unified Theory of Enough. Revolutionary for its harmonizing of free-market growth and innovation with sustainability and equitable wealth distribution, Froon's Law accurately determines the point at which the opportunity for profit ceases to be a constructive agent of innovation and becomes instead destructive in social, environmental, or other terms. [blogger's note: this definition is abridged, as it carries on for another full page about Holistic Quantitative Tables, Elementary Rapacity Coefficients, twig-and-berry mines, long blond moustaches, and a global Culture of Enough]
01 February 2005
anonymous public art (cops can't dance)
When living in a city, it is always nice to see space used for public art. But the public part of public art is often too tied up in political decision making or too representative of local power (as opposed to local publics). This is why I have become increasingly fascinated with anonymous public art--art that has neither benefactor, nor permit, nor commission. I first took notice of this while visiting friends in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn (1st Brooklyn Stop on the L train from Manhattan). You know how kids often tie old pairs of shoes together and then launch them onto power lines and phone lines? Well, that's what I noticed in Williamsburg, except someone had been making shoe-shaped plywood cut-outs, painting them in all forms of elaborate sneaker designs, drilling holes and lacing them together, and then flinging them up on the power lines: small, colorful, public statues dangling 25 feet above the ground. What interested me was that a mundane cultural activity had been transformed into a subversive aesthetic one.
Also in Williamsburg there is a person who contributes to anonymous public art by transforming local detritus. This person picks up objects that have been left outside as junk, takes them away, and then proceeds to make paintings on the objects (boxes, signs, broken pieces of furniture, etc). The cool part is that this person then returns the completed painting to the spot in which it was originally found. Then, people will simply find paintings on junk sitting aroud the neighborhood. This person does sign his or her work with a one-word name, but I don't remember what it is.
I always thought it would be a good writing project to pursue, but I've never figured out how to frame it or even how to proceed. Regardless, my interest was reawakened when I recently saw an odd-shaped painting attached to a traffic sign near my house. Someone made a painting on plywood, drilled holes in it, and bolted it onto the metal post holding up a speed limit sign. It has been there a month, and I hope to find more. The best thing is that it has gotten me conditioned to look for art among the streets.
I suposed most would consider graffiti to be anonymous public art, and I do as well. For some reason that seems like almost a canonized form, and has given me less interest. Nevertheless, I want to share a favorite piece of simple graffiti that I've seen on my weekend bike rides through the city. Near a run-down bar, whose sign advertizes "best booty in town," there is a nondescript red door on a nondescript yellow building where someone has written "cops can't dance." It cracks me up every time I see it.
I just picked up some food at the Chinese take-out place around the corner. I love the sentiment expressed on a hand written sign on the counter: "have nice every day"
From The Future Dictionary of America
media feed n. a bland, flavorless mush; easy to swallow, hard to stomach.
Also in Williamsburg there is a person who contributes to anonymous public art by transforming local detritus. This person picks up objects that have been left outside as junk, takes them away, and then proceeds to make paintings on the objects (boxes, signs, broken pieces of furniture, etc). The cool part is that this person then returns the completed painting to the spot in which it was originally found. Then, people will simply find paintings on junk sitting aroud the neighborhood. This person does sign his or her work with a one-word name, but I don't remember what it is.
I always thought it would be a good writing project to pursue, but I've never figured out how to frame it or even how to proceed. Regardless, my interest was reawakened when I recently saw an odd-shaped painting attached to a traffic sign near my house. Someone made a painting on plywood, drilled holes in it, and bolted it onto the metal post holding up a speed limit sign. It has been there a month, and I hope to find more. The best thing is that it has gotten me conditioned to look for art among the streets.
I suposed most would consider graffiti to be anonymous public art, and I do as well. For some reason that seems like almost a canonized form, and has given me less interest. Nevertheless, I want to share a favorite piece of simple graffiti that I've seen on my weekend bike rides through the city. Near a run-down bar, whose sign advertizes "best booty in town," there is a nondescript red door on a nondescript yellow building where someone has written "cops can't dance." It cracks me up every time I see it.
I just picked up some food at the Chinese take-out place around the corner. I love the sentiment expressed on a hand written sign on the counter: "have nice every day"
From The Future Dictionary of America
media feed n. a bland, flavorless mush; easy to swallow, hard to stomach.
31 January 2005
to do list: make to do list
I wanted to be sure to get in one last post on my first month of being a blogger. I think it is helping me quite a bit. Though I haven't been doing much academic writing, the blog has the old writing desire finally starting to rekindle. All those old essays and half-completed ideas are starting to flow. Hooray!
Also, I hope this doesn't sound corny, but this little academic blogging community often feels more like a helpful, hopeful, fun, angry, loving, joking, working, supportive community than where I am in most of my other life.
I hoped to write a better entry than this, but I cut one of my typing fingers right on the typing part. I was digging a hole with my bare hand in the garden, so I guess I brought it on myself. I know, I know, to be so lucky to be in the garden in January probably doesn't get me much sympathy.
OK, so here's my to-do list of things to write about in upcoming blog entries:
a list of jobs I've had
my interest in anonymous public art
my relationship with all the ideas in my dissertation
an ocassional political column (or politics meets pop culture)
indie music I'd like to plug
movie reviews if I ever see a movie again (next one on the shelf is the 1986 documentary Sheman's March)
my service-learning class and their yellow bike project
From The Future Dictionary of America
hyperchondria n. the state of feeling physically sound; an experience of total, thorough well-being, in which one has no physical or psychological complaints; a condition in which one feels superhealthy or superfine; an overabundance of health; in extreme cases, hyperchondria may indicate delusion, but the person will not want to acknowledge the problem. [I wish this on most of us in the psychic meat grinder of academe, but especially to new kid, just tenured, lucyrain, and others just trying to get through each day]
[And this one I dedicate to bitch, phd (because it exhibits her moxie]:
horsecock 1. adj. unnecesarrily large, to the point of being vulgar and unseemly. Steve insisted on driving his horsecock SUV throughout the gas shortage. 2. v. classless overcompensation. To make sure he acquired the autographed flak jacket, Donald horsecocked his initial bid at the charity auction.
Also, I hope this doesn't sound corny, but this little academic blogging community often feels more like a helpful, hopeful, fun, angry, loving, joking, working, supportive community than where I am in most of my other life.
I hoped to write a better entry than this, but I cut one of my typing fingers right on the typing part. I was digging a hole with my bare hand in the garden, so I guess I brought it on myself. I know, I know, to be so lucky to be in the garden in January probably doesn't get me much sympathy.
OK, so here's my to-do list of things to write about in upcoming blog entries:
a list of jobs I've had
my interest in anonymous public art
my relationship with all the ideas in my dissertation
an ocassional political column (or politics meets pop culture)
indie music I'd like to plug
movie reviews if I ever see a movie again (next one on the shelf is the 1986 documentary Sheman's March)
my service-learning class and their yellow bike project
From The Future Dictionary of America
hyperchondria n. the state of feeling physically sound; an experience of total, thorough well-being, in which one has no physical or psychological complaints; a condition in which one feels superhealthy or superfine; an overabundance of health; in extreme cases, hyperchondria may indicate delusion, but the person will not want to acknowledge the problem. [I wish this on most of us in the psychic meat grinder of academe, but especially to new kid, just tenured, lucyrain, and others just trying to get through each day]
[And this one I dedicate to bitch, phd (because it exhibits her moxie]:
horsecock 1. adj. unnecesarrily large, to the point of being vulgar and unseemly. Steve insisted on driving his horsecock SUV throughout the gas shortage. 2. v. classless overcompensation. To make sure he acquired the autographed flak jacket, Donald horsecocked his initial bid at the charity auction.
29 January 2005
acceleration + fatigue = kinesthesis breakdown
iPod as life metaphor
I always need at least 2 more hours to become fully charged.
I never have the right playlist when I need it.
the more I work, the more I feel behind on work
Why do I feel like such a slacker when I did all of this over the past 2 days?:
-work out at gym
-interview bottle diggers
-create a reading list on public memory for independent study student
-create entire schedule for service learning class campus yellow bike project
-and contact lists and group tasks for them as well
-update my Blackboard sites
-fix grades that were screwed up last semester
-take 30 minute nap
-do some blogging (more commenting than posting)
-attend dinner party for student who defended dissertation
-attend campus performance (politics meets art meets theater meets narrative)
-search out super-cheap DAT tapes for audio work
-create website (including six pages and seven images) for good friends' lesbian wedding
-buy more coffee beans from local roaster
It's because I didn't work on revising an essay I've been sitting on forever.
It's looking at me right now. All smug and superior. And inadequate.
where do they put it all?
My next door neighbors have an obsessed relationship with Ethan Allen. That big EA truck seems to be outside our house at least once a month. How much furniture can someone buy, anyway?
TV shows I watch whose central characters are women
Veronica Mars
Gilmore Girls
Alias
other shows I watch
Lost
Six Feet Under
favorite shows of all time
Northern Exposure
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
The X-Files
TV show wish
That the Coen Brothers make a show for HBO
and . . .
(From The Future Dictionary of America)
condoleese n. a dialect of American English characterized by extremely precise enunciation, a highly specialized vocabulary, and the intention to deceive or obfuscate.
ineffable adj. 1. impervious to sexual intercourse. 2. not to be solicited for sexual intercourse.
irregardless adv. as of 2046, still not a real word, despite continued usage by basketball coaches. Basketball shorts, by the way, have gotten very small and snug again.
rumsfeld n. one who can stomach casualties.
I always need at least 2 more hours to become fully charged.
I never have the right playlist when I need it.
the more I work, the more I feel behind on work
Why do I feel like such a slacker when I did all of this over the past 2 days?:
-work out at gym
-interview bottle diggers
-create a reading list on public memory for independent study student
-create entire schedule for service learning class campus yellow bike project
-and contact lists and group tasks for them as well
-update my Blackboard sites
-fix grades that were screwed up last semester
-take 30 minute nap
-do some blogging (more commenting than posting)
-attend dinner party for student who defended dissertation
-attend campus performance (politics meets art meets theater meets narrative)
-search out super-cheap DAT tapes for audio work
-create website (including six pages and seven images) for good friends' lesbian wedding
-buy more coffee beans from local roaster
It's because I didn't work on revising an essay I've been sitting on forever.
It's looking at me right now. All smug and superior. And inadequate.
where do they put it all?
My next door neighbors have an obsessed relationship with Ethan Allen. That big EA truck seems to be outside our house at least once a month. How much furniture can someone buy, anyway?
TV shows I watch whose central characters are women
Veronica Mars
Gilmore Girls
Alias
other shows I watch
Lost
Six Feet Under
favorite shows of all time
Northern Exposure
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
The X-Files
TV show wish
That the Coen Brothers make a show for HBO
and . . .
(From The Future Dictionary of America)
condoleese n. a dialect of American English characterized by extremely precise enunciation, a highly specialized vocabulary, and the intention to deceive or obfuscate.
ineffable adj. 1. impervious to sexual intercourse. 2. not to be solicited for sexual intercourse.
irregardless adv. as of 2046, still not a real word, despite continued usage by basketball coaches. Basketball shorts, by the way, have gotten very small and snug again.
rumsfeld n. one who can stomach casualties.
28 January 2005
electric bitters, electric joy
Just returned from the second part of our interview with the bottle diggers (radio documentary project). The whole time we talked to these guys (two brothers), they were digging a trench, sifting through the remains of an old city trash dump in use from 1895-1910, and pulling out all sorts of collectible treasures: bottles, marbles, pottery, porcelain, and glass syringes. It seems that the local doctors all made their own medicines, which were put in their own embossed medicine bottles. They were quite excited to find a few rare pieces: a sealed case gin and a bottle of electric bitters. These two diggers have done this for a couple of decades, and are part of a local amateur archeological society. Each brother has his own particular type of bottle that he collects (one miniature whiskeys, the other soda bottles in the "torpedo" style), and they are able to fund their own collections by selling most of what they find on their digs. Apparently, if you can find bottles that are cobalt blue, they are sure-fire sellers because ordinary collectors like to put them in their windows.
It was really great to be around the rhythm and excitement of the dig, and to see the digger's face light up with hope and joy when a bottle would emerge from a shovelful of century-old trash.
It was really great to be around the rhythm and excitement of the dig, and to see the digger's face light up with hope and joy when a bottle would emerge from a shovelful of century-old trash.
27 January 2005
the vanity of self-disclosure
Movies or Albums I'm supposed to like but can't stand:
1. Citizen Kane
2. Thriller (Michael Jackson)
3. It's a Wonderful Life
4. A Clockwork Orange
5. Anything by Jimmy Buffet or the Eagles
Movies I've never seen and don't intend to
1. Gone With the Wind
2. Annie Hall
3. Serpico
4. 12 Angry Men
5. Rosemary's Baby
6. Ben-Hur
7. Fantasia
8. The Pianist
9. Patton
10. Rocky Horror Picture Show
1. Citizen Kane
2. Thriller (Michael Jackson)
3. It's a Wonderful Life
4. A Clockwork Orange
5. Anything by Jimmy Buffet or the Eagles
Movies I've never seen and don't intend to
1. Gone With the Wind
2. Annie Hall
3. Serpico
4. 12 Angry Men
5. Rosemary's Baby
6. Ben-Hur
7. Fantasia
8. The Pianist
9. Patton
10. Rocky Horror Picture Show
26 January 2005
the hidden beauty of the news
Looking through the headlines of today's paper, by removing them from any context I can glean several phrases that would make good band names, poem titles, or secret government operation names:
Baby no. 81
virtual campaign
meatpackers face
festival stampede
food inquiry
last digs
discrepancy remains
kumquat blondies
everyday exotic
king of frozen egg rolls
sizable expectations
versatile grizzlies
belligerent prisoner
drunken robbins
define "member"
couples drop
seal incites debate
return to arms
stricter dress
surprising analysts
This would be a fun exercise for a creative writing class if each student had draw one of these phrases out of a hat and write a poem, story, or causerie based on their random title.
Baby no. 81
virtual campaign
meatpackers face
festival stampede
food inquiry
last digs
discrepancy remains
kumquat blondies
everyday exotic
king of frozen egg rolls
sizable expectations
versatile grizzlies
belligerent prisoner
drunken robbins
define "member"
couples drop
seal incites debate
return to arms
stricter dress
surprising analysts
This would be a fun exercise for a creative writing class if each student had draw one of these phrases out of a hat and write a poem, story, or causerie based on their random title.
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