Tyranny of the Urgent

I mentioned in class the other day that Eliot gives us, April is the cruelest month and Shakespeare's warns, beware the ides of March, but neither April nor March have anything on October in academe.

Maybe that overstates the case, but what a busy time of year! Good busy. Crazy busy. Dynamic, engaging, exhausting. Surprising. One expects the rush toward the start of the semester, and the storm of grading and student panic and project deadlines near the end of the semester, but the October surge sweeps one up in a vortex of falling leaves and student essays . . . of dissertation work and student advising, grant applications and the job market season opener, letters of recommendation for former students applying to grad school, planning, conferences, proposals, sustaining the day-to-day classroom vigor, reading and responding to papers, the course blog . . .

October is the veritable 13.1 mile mark in the innovation marathon.

Add to that travel (and the unexpected, untimely death of our alternator while driving through Gary, Indiana), a wedding, two toddlers at Halloween, and

THE ELECTION (echos)

---whew, baby-baby.

Still---and just maybe this is a divine madness---I wouldn't want it any other way. I've only just begun to realize that a central tenet of my life's philosophy is


From chaos, order. This has always been the case; this is, for better or worse, my way. So as the semester pushes on, as I continue to gather more momentum than moss and feel that I am, like Yeats' falcon, turning and turning in the widening gyre---as the election nears with all of its chaotic, piercing, frenzied energy, and I am reminded again of Yeats' lines

The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity

---I know that what feels like the Tyranny of the Urgent is really no more than the view from the eye of the storm, a prerequisite for progress, the chaos that precedes order.

And rather than be tyrannized, I choose to conquer.

And while I'm rambling (not waxing) philosophical . . .

A question:

If "praise and blame," as Nietzsche gives us, "is human virtue; [. . .] is human madness," then does that mean our nation goes mad every four years? And is such madness a virtue?

Guess we'll see.

What I read . . .

From "The Bailout and the Vanishing Taxpayer" by Steven Malanga:

In the end, how we actually pay for the bailout is just part of the issue. The larger point is that if McCain or Obama follow through with their tax plans, we’ll continue a trend that makes us look more and more like some European social welfare state, where many people have a stake in growing government entitlements, which fewer and fewer taxpayers finance. At some point along that road, change becomes impossible because too many citizens benefit from the system in place, while those who pay the freight for this system try whatever they can, including starting businesses elsewhere, or reducing their output, to avoid the disproportionate tax bite.

That’s a prescription for a static economy largely bereft of opportunity. On the other hand, we probably won’t have to worry about volatile markets in such a world.

The Transformative Power of Coffee

Came across this brief piece by Kate Porterfield for Cookie Magazine this morning and just had to share:

I'm not proud that my 13-month-old has already learned, when she first wakes up, to wait--very quietly--for me to have my coffee before she starts angling for a bottle. Or that there have been times, watching the coffee drip through the filter, that I've caught myself whispering plaintively, "Okay, almost there . . . . Come to Mama." This isn't just about "jump-starting" my day. Sure, coffee wakes me up, but so does hearing my 5-year-old shouting, "Skittles fit in my nose!" It's what coffee does to my mood, the way it alters--I mean really changes--what I believe about my life, my loved ones, myself. That vague, haunting feeling that I've done something terribly wrong with my life begins to dissolve with each sip. And in its place emerges my love for my kids; for the idea of a jam-packed day stretching out in front of me; hell, even for myself. And that's just the first cup.

Yes, Ms. Porterfield. I hear ya'. And I lift my over-sized, steaming mug to you.

On the lighter side . . .

Who's the #2 whiniest coach in college football, according to FOX Sports ranking of the Top Ten Whiniest Coaches?

Rich Rodriguez, Michigan

"Being Rich Rod," coming soon to a theater near you. Scream "excessive" about the $4 million buyout in your West Virginia contract clause, then later admit that your Michigan buyout is the same amount. Claim "coersion" [sic]after signing a contract when your lawyers and agents were at your beck and call. Whine about death threats, then fail to provide proof. Pat self on back for getting an entire state to light couches on fire.

Might I add "leave your team just before their bowl appearance?" and "flat-out lie about interviewing with U of M in 'neutral' Ohio just two weeksafter the big match-up with Pitt that knocked WVU out of the national title game"? So much for "I’m very excited to stay here, and I plan on being here a long time. [. . .]We’re not done yet. We’re going to continue to grow.[. . .] It’s all about the reason for staying. I’m biased. This is my school."

Lookin' good, ace. Lookin' good.

We're in This Together

In a NYT article dated 30 September 1999, Steven A. Holmes offers the following:

Fannie Mae, the nation's biggest underwriter of home mortgages, has been under increasing pressure from the Clinton Administration to expand mortgage loans among low and moderate income people and felt pressure from stock holders to maintain its phenomenal growth in profits.

and

In moving, even tentatively, into this new area of [subprime]lending, Fannie Mae is taking on significantly more risk, which may not pose any difficulties during flush economic times. But the government-subsidized corporation may run into trouble in an economic downturn, prompting a government rescue similar to that of the savings and loan industry in the 1980's.

This economic crisis has been a long time coming and is owed to an impressive, complex array of social, political, and economic factors.

In light of my last post, I find in this piece further evidence that we must work together, with neither acrimony nor extreme partisanship, to make informed policies that address social inequity while protecting the nation's infrastructure to the benefit of all.