Brilliant!

Fellow happy coffee lovers: you must check out Christoph Niemann's "Coffee" from Abstract City, his NYTimes blog.

Thanks a latte, Lucy!

(ugh . . . too much? yeah. probably. I'll go now.)

I'll show you mine . . .

So here it is: the 'project' I mentioned in my last post. Here's what to do: share yours (here or on your own blog . . . but don't forget to link). It would be fascinating, I think, to build a matrix of writerly advice (a la Richard Hugo's 'Nuts and Bolts') with each component revealing its author's unique ethos. C'mon--you know you want to . . .

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A Completely Idiosyncratic, Slightly Off-Beat, Not Necessarily Original but Potentially Helpful Collection of Writing Advice

~or~

A Few Tips about Writing I’ve Picked up along the Way

Everyone in a complex system has a slightly different interpretation. The more interpretations we gather, the easier it becomes to gain a sense of the whole.
~Margaret J. Wheatley

To my mind, there is no system more complex—or more beautiful, intriguing, and beguiling—than our system(s) of language. Through the years, I have gathered a few little gems that I have taken to heart, made my own. What follows (in no particular order) is not formal advice; it is, perhaps, a revealing portrait of my own mind—but these scraps of writing wisdom, quilted together, inform my own writing practice, so I thought I’d share them with you. The point, of course, is not to ask you to adopt my criteria, but to inspire you to gather your own.

1. The better you understand the rules, the more liberated you are from them. This is a variant of the “you gotta know a rule before you can break it” philosophy, and there is something to it—making the conscientious decision to break/disregard a writing rule or to utilize a particular figure ‘reads’ very differently than haplessly stumbling onto something. Learn the conventions. Write with purpose. Break the rules with purpose. Make writing decisions, and be able to back them up. Doing so will give you confidence and will give your writing presence.

1 ½ . And yet . . . welcome, embrace those ‘happy accidents.’
Maybe it is your subconscious at work or maybe it is just serendipity, but every so often, despite one’s best intentions, a word comes out not as we intended . . . but so much better. Rule 1 ¾: Read your work aloud: sometimes what you say differs from what you wrote . . . and it is much, much stronger. A simple detail can change the efficacy of entire piece of writing.

2. Heed this gruesome advice: murder your darlings.
Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch penned this little gem in 1914, and it has since been picked up by Faulkner (as “kill your darlings”), Mark Twain (allegedly), and countless creative writing instructors. Writing is sometimes about tough decisions; ‘cutting the fat,’ or culling your hard work may be the toughest of them all, but it is often the right thing to do. The moment we become enamored of our own brilliance, we have lost our objective edge. Take one for the team, and all that . . . very noble, very valuable.

3. Eschew Obfuscation.
Huh? Exactly. This is an oldie but a goodie from the classic Elements of Style by Strunk and White (originally published in 1919):

Avoid the elaborate, the pretentious, the coy, and the cute. Do not be tempted by a twenty-dollar word when there is a ten-center handy, ready and able. [. . .] In this, as in so many matters pertaining to style, one’s ear must be one’s guide: gut is a lustier noun than intestine, but the two words are not interchangeable, because gut is often inappropriate, being too coarse for the context. Never call a stomach a tummy without good reason (76-77).

4. To know and know well: the nature of the sentence and the power of strong verbs.
To my mind, sentences and verbs are the DNA of writing—stunning in their simplicity, awe-inspiring in their logical complexity and potential. If one can master not only the grammatical types of sentences (simple, compound, complex, compound-complex) but also stylistic forms or modes (i.e. the periodic and the final free modifier) AND if one can come to understand the inherent power of verbs and their role in the internal logic of the sentence, then one can create life . . . on the page.

5. Appreciate the marriage of sound and sense.
There is a reason Plato banned the poets from his utopia: language is inherently musical and music is mesmerizing, persuasive. Pay attention to how language works, what it does, how it sounds—not just what it means. As the poet Edward Hirsh observed in How to Read a Poem an Fall in Love with Poetry, “writing fixes the evanescence of sound”— what an extraordinary phenomenon. Never underestimate the power of the auditory imagination.

6. Grammar is a part of language . . . and it can be fun (like a puzzle).
Consider Joan Didion’s argument for grammar: “All I know about grammar is its infinite power. To shift the structure of a sentence alters the meaning of that sentence as definitely and inflexibly as the position of a camera alters the meaning of the object photographed.” Details make all the difference (i.e. ‘the devil is in the details’), and grammar represents one of the most nuanced, most influential, subclasses of ‘details.’ When it works, it supports and defines your writing; when it is flawed, it is distracting, like white noise or static.

7. Read!
From Richard Hugo: “a writer learns from reading possibilities of technique, ways of execution, phrasing, rhythm, tonality, pace” (The Triggering Town, xi). Read what you like, what you admire. Read the work you wish you had written. Don’t imitate, per se, but come to understand the nuances, the culture, of your favorite (or most serviceable) form or genre.

8. Don’t be lazy.
Rhetorical questions try to be provocative without taking the time to craft an appeal . . . lazy. As Hugo notes, “If you can answer the question, to ask it is a waste of time.” Other ways to be lazy: relying on clichés, drawing on ‘canned’ arguments, using gratuitous slang. The choices you make affect your ethos—choose wisely.

9. Always consider ethics.
Language can be incredibly powerful, and there is an inherent trust between writer and reader that must be honored. To paraphrase Andrea Lunsford, language use must be principled, accurate, and fair.

10. Learning opportunities present themselves in unexpected places and ways.
I learned much of what I know about rhetoric I learned from poetry. Much of what I know about poetry I learned from . . . sports. My writing education is informed by what I learned in chemistry and pre-med (consider the beauty and extraordinary grace of molecular geometry). With that in mind . . . a few favorite, random (but nonetheless valuable) quotations (some about writing, some not) that guide my writing:

An exclamation mark is like laughing at your own jokes.
~F.Scott Fitzgerald

Make your own kind of music.
Sing your own special song.
Make your own kind of music—
Even if nobody else sings along.
~ ‘Mama’ Cass Elliot, 1969

The most essential gift for a good writer is a built-in, shockproof shit detector.
~Earnest Hemingway, The Paris Review

PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER—itty bitty living space.
~Robin Williams
as ‘Genie’ in Walt Disney’s Aladdin

To write [. . .] you must have a streak of arrogance—not in real life I hope. In real life try to be nice.
~Richard Hugo

The language is perpetually in flux: it is a living stream, shifting, changing, receiving new strength from a thousand tributaries, losing old forms in the backwaters of time.
~Strunk and White

You can be a little ungrammatical if you come from the right part of the country.
~Robert Frost

Writing is an exploration. You start from nothing and learn as you go.
~E.L. Doctorow

The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between the lightening and the lightening bug.
~Mark Twain

Verse forms do not define poetic forms: they simply express it. It is an important distinction. For many people what is off-putting about poetic form is the belief, sometimes based on an unlucky class or exam, that these are cold and arbitrary rules, imposed to close out readers rather than include them. [. . .] poetic form is not abstract, but human. [. . . ] This is the charm and power of poetic form. It is not imposed; it is rooted.
~Mark Strand, The Making of a Poem

The poet may legitimately step out into the universal only by first going through the narrow door of the particular.
~Cleanth Brooks, Irony as a Principle of Structure

And now for a bonus rule, one that is perhaps my favorite . . .

Embrace your own weirdness.
I believe this, too, comes from Hugo, but I first learned it at the feet of my first true mentor, the poet and professor Dr. Jonathan Johnson. What does it mean? Well, my friends, that's the point: that's for you to decide, as only you can.

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Okay, so that's my list of 'rules.' Ante up, folks!

Stray Thoughts: A Long Winter's Nap . . .

Okay, not so very long, but I haven't been blogging much. Of course, I haven't been napping much either; my writing energy has simply been more focused on teaching, dissertating, preparing for upcoming conferences and workshops, and--as a poet-in-semi-stasis who averages about a poem a year these days--working on my latest sestina (God, I love that form).

(okay, okay . . . and following football and hockey--what can I say?)

Of course, that all sounds more interesting than it actually is--which is to say, I'm really in something of a boring moment. Not professionally: the dissertation work is fascinating and frustrating; as I said to one of my diss directors (MBD)the other day, it is frustrating to work so hard to produce so little, so slowly (those of you who are working or have worked on a dissertation or dissertation-like project, I'd love to hear from ya' on this if you know what I'm talking about; though MBD gave me good, encouraging advice, it can't hurt to solicit more--you know, to gather a strong sample).

I have to add that the group of students I have this semester are perhaps the most interesting, smart, engaging, enjoyable collection of folks I have worked with as writing/rhetoric instructor: I'll be sad to see them go, this 'dream' class, and it has been fun preparing, designing, and reading the work associated with the class.

I suppose, with new projects on the horizon and a new poem to capture my imagination, I just don't have a whole lot else to say. It's an odd feeling, this 'having nothing to say.' I guess I just have to accept that, for the moment at least, I'm just kinda boring. Been there? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

That said, I compiled a list of my favorite writing perspectives and advice for my final 'lecture/discussion' of the semester, and I was pleased with what came of it. So I'm going to post it (separately) and invite all who care to participate to offer up their own.

Cheers! zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Do you send Christmas/Holiday Cards to Friends and Family?

Folks, if you do, please consider adding one more to your list:

"Holiday Mail for Heroes"
P.O. Box 5456
Capitol Heights, MD 20791-5456

This program, now in its second year, is sponsored by the American Red Cross. Their goal is to distribute 1 million cards to wounded and active service members, veterans, and their families. You can learn more about the program here.

IMPORTANT NOTE: All cards must be postmarked by December 10, 2008 to reach their destinations.

Its a simple, powerful gesture . . . one that grows with each card sent.

Thinking and reading; reading and thinking . . .

Came across this, from Michael Steele's "Listen. Adapt. Be Positive." (WSJ online).

Republicans once said that the opportunities this nation has to offer rest not in government but rather in the hands of individuals. Over the past decade or so, however, we Republicans lost our way. The disparity between our rhetoric and our action grew until our credibility snapped. [more]

And this, from Dennis Prager's "Some Positive Reactions from the Right"(Real Clear Politics):

We who oppose Barack Obama's policies will, hopefully, act in accordance with conservative values of decency. Hence my simple announcement on the day after the election: "I did not vote for him. I did not want him to be president. But as of January 20, 2009, Barack Obama will be my president."

[ . . .] we can celebrate the aforementioned good of Barack Obama's election and pray for him and for our beloved country. [more]

While I am certainly more comfortable with Steele's argument than Prager's (when considered in their entireties and taking into account the latter's treatment of his subject and, as I read it, his somewhat condescending tone), I do appreciate the spirit driving both . . . a spirit palpable in many other editorials and commentaries of late. These seem to reflect the general tone echoing through the ranks of the right following last Tuesday's election. No animosity, or at least very little of it. No ominous predictions. No making excuses (for the most part). Honest, forthright introspection and a genuine expression of optimism, rather than a cynical gesture, that the new leadership will do right by the nation . . . and the world. In fact, the only truly negative rumblings seem to be emerging from those who ineffectively ran McCain's campaign. 'Out with the old, in with the new' may be an oversimplification, but a useful one.

I have to say, I am very pleased. Who knew the kind of 'change' offered by President Elect Obama would offer a katharsis of sorts? But to my mind the biggest surprise is how this election presents the GOP with an opportunity to revisit its purpose in this country, to re-prioritize its (often nested) missions, to reconnect with the wider constituency, to step almost completely out of the spotlight, and to re-imagine the ways it may serve the nation. As the moment matures, as moments must, I hope the goodwill and civility continues. That said, it is an exciting moment (on all fronts), and I have to admit that I am a bit taken in by it all.

Bradley's been at it again . . .

Over at The Ethical Exhibitionist, my pal Bradley posted a thoughtful and provocative reaction to the election results, which he titled "Lets Not Pat Ourselves On the Back Too Hard." Though I'm sure I'm about to get myself into a heap of trouble, here's my response:

nathan is entirely on the mark when he writes

the problem is that they (and we) haven't respected that there are two things that we're talking about as one. One is a legal contract between two people, upheld by the State that agrees that two people will share life together. The other is a religious symbol that has all sorts of meanings different than what the majority of "marriages" encompass.

I also admire his attempt to engage the ethos of those who vote to deny the rights of their compatriots on moral grounds. This is an important, if extremely difficult, step in working toward consensus—or at the very least, mutual respect. That said, I hold fast to the opinion that it is erroneous in the extreme to attempt to legislate morality.

As you know, I am a dyed-in-the-wool Republican, but on this issue I break with much of my party. To say that I cannot understand the justification for denying people these basic rights understates my stance: doing so undermines, at the most basic level, everything this country stands for. It is our concern with rights and liberties that underscores every US ideology and serves as our common ground. I cannot comprehend why anyone would want to deny their neighbors the full rights and privileges guaranteed (implicitly and explicitly) by the constitution—or to amend a constitution to limit the rights of one’s own citizenry. The only limits to freedom I can embrace are those that reflect the philosophy that one person’s rights extend only as far as another’s begin—that is to say, we cannot justify violating another’s rights in the name of our own. The 1996 Congressional Essays reflect the importance of reasonable limits cogently.

More to the point, allowing same-sex marriage (or, the related hot-button topic of the ‘90s, allowing homosexuals to serve in the US armed forces) does not impede on the rights of the individual; disallowing full rights and privileges does.

One final thought: while it may be 'democratic' to allow the constituency to vote on such an issue, it runs counter to the notion of the 'republic,' which explicitly ties liberty to law. If one considers the notion of law Aristotle advances in the Politics as “reason unaffected by desire” and understands morality as pathos(in the rhetorical sense), then it is worthwhile to note that, perhaps ironically and certainly theoretically, it is my party—with its philosophical concern for definition and law—who should be the most adamant champions of equal rights under the law . . . for every US citizen.

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.

Just One: Number 8

A dear friend and colleague recently posted a MySpace bulletin that included the following question:

8. Thoughts on the presidential campaign?

This is my attempt at answering it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Make no mistake: this election is of monumental importance. Still, I fully appreciate the fact that the executive branch is much larger than the president, and the election is much larger than its primary players.

For my money, I think this election provides an important opportunity for the citizens of this nation to stand up for civility and mutual respect in civic discourse and to become thoughtful practitioners of temperance; to steadfastly engage one another with grace and without malice; and to learn to not only negotiate but embrace ideological difference in order to learn from one another, to act with beneficence, to protect and preserve that which is worthy of such care, and to progress.

When people I value, respect, and just-plain-like make unfounded, disparaging, dismissive, unsupported, vicious comments that attack either ‘side’ through ad hominem and dogmatic arguments, I am greatly saddened. I am saddened by the anger and venom that accompanies almost all of our contemporary public discourse. I am saddened by the far right claiming proprietary rights over faith, and I am sickened by the far left claiming proprietary rights over intelligence. These strategies are unfair, unprincipled, and inaccurate and, to my mind, do not reflect, to borrow an iconic phrase, the state of our union. These practices—not any act of congress nor executive order nor economic crisis—will be our nation’s undoing.

In this election cycle, especially, I pledge to remind myself to think, act, speak, disagree, and compose not without passion but with patience, consideration, and openness. Does anyone care to join me in the attempt?

Shameless Plug

As I mentioned in a previous post, I am having my Intermediate Composition students keep team blogs to allow them the opportunity to write for a 'public audience.' This is the first time I've incorporated blogs into my pedagogy, and I am learning a lot. For starters, while ostensibly written for a public audience outside of the teacher/learner dynamic, the blogs have been, for the most part, written for me, the instructor. This may owe to the quality of the prompts I've offered, which have been predominately academic and have emerged from classroom lectures/discussions centered on rhetorical theory. So we'll see where the next unit takes us. Still, I am encouraged by the investment these students have shown in engaging the project.

With all this in mind, I would like to invite anyone who reads my musings here to visit our class blogs. I have established a 'hub' where I post class notes, prompts, et al. materials appropriate for an open-access forum, but more importantly, the 'hub' allows access to the student blogs via the blogroll. I hope you will consider checking us out, and please feel free to engage these blogs as you would any other; after all, the course is called

Engaging the Polis:
Rhetoric and Forms of Public Argument

Care to join us?

Belated gratitude

To Bradley for nominating my little ol’ blog for a 2008 “Brilliante Weblog” award.

(though after raising his dander with my most recent post, perhaps he has reconsidered?)

Anyway, it is shameful that it has taken me so long to post this and convey my sincere thanks . . . not just for the kudos but for his continued readership and thoughtful contributions.

Bradley, right back at’cha. And thanks.

I plan to pass the award along soon, so stay tuned.

'What Makes People Vote Republican?'

I found the following, excerpted from Jonathan Haidt's most recent piece for Edge, intriguing:

Our national motto is e pluribus unum ("from many, one"). Whenever Democrats support policies that weaken the integrity and identity of the collective (such as multiculturalism, bilingualism, and immigration), they show that they care more about pluribus than unum.

Of course, there is much more to his piece than this singular observation; his treatment of political ideology and moral psychology is particularly cogent. Agree with his conclusions and treatment of the problem or no, he offers valuable insight that is, at the very least, worthy of consideration.

To my mind, Haidt's work compliments Richard Weaver's observation in Ethics of Rhetoric (1962) that in discursive practice conservatives tend to argue from definition and liberals tend to argue from circumstance, providing yet another locus for understanding the dynamic between language, thought, and action.

If you are at all interested in rhetoric, politics, and ideology, you should check it out.

My Scholarship

I just 'wordled' some of my work, related to my dissertation, and this is what I came up with:

>

Image courtesy of wordle.net

Yup, that pretty much covers it. Cool.

Retiring Retirement

No, not me. That is to say, though it may seem that I have retired from blogging for a spell, I haven’t really: I have just been a tad too busy with other writing and projects. So my absence was not a retirement, per se; therefore, I have no retirement to retire. But I digress . . .

No, the retirement(s)—or more appropriately, the coming-out-of-retirement(s)—to which I refer belong to none other than two incomparable sports legends: Brett Favre and, made official just today, LANCE ARMSTRONG.

[applause. crowd cheers.]

Yes, it is official: Armstrong will ride the ’09 Tour de France with Johan Bruyneel and team Astana. I can’t deny that I am very much excited about this news. When I first heard the rumors a couple of days ago, I had mixed emotions: why must these legends call it good only to return? Knowing that, at least among athletes, one’s return performance rarely matches the hope and hype left in the wake of one’s former glory and victorious departure, why tamper with a legacy? But that’s the story, right? The brilliant narrative. Retirement: the dénouement. That isn’t, as Russian Realism shows us, the experience of living.

So we see our larger-than-life characters dressed in the fictions we create for them, then are somewhat shocked when they do not recede into memory, submit to being placed on the shelf, their stories complete.

A while ago, during all the Favre hullabaloo, I wrote that I thought Favre should just apologize to everyone for all the fuss and stay retired. I still feel that way. Yet, I am excited for Armstrong’s return. Why the discrepancy? Both are immensely talented. Both have captured the hearts and imagination of a broad population. Both have remarkable, compelling stories to share. Both are amazing competitors and just plain enjoyable to watch.

I reckon that it is just the manner of coming out of retirement: Favre put the team, and by extension his fans, in a really difficult position. The Packers organization entertained Favre’s vacillation about retirement for much longer than a few weeks this spring; speculation and indecision about his retirement accompanied the end of every season for the last four years. When Favre finally decided to retire, he said it was on his own terms. No one wanted to see him go, but if he was going to go, at least he was going to go a Packer. If the reports are true, then the organization even hung with him through the period of indecision that followed his announcement last March. But at some point the team had to move forward. Once they made that commitment to Rogers, following Favre’s insistence that he would not come back, they were bound to honor it. A sports writer, whose name escapes me at the moment, once wrote that GB fans may never get over their collective crush on Favre; all the drama surrounding Favre’s six-month retirement certainly assuages the pain. I always admired Favre because he seemed to put the team first; his actions significantly called that assumption into question for me. I still like Brett Favre: I just can’t help myself, but neither can I help but feel more than a touch disappointed, nor can I watch him play for the Jets. His tale should have ended last Monday night at Lambeau with a ceremony to honor him and retire his jersey. Dénouement.

By contrast, Armstrong’s return to cycling, while risky at age 37, brings with it a drama of a different sort. To continue my earlier metaphor, Armstrong’s return is more like a long-awaited sequel rather than an epilogue the author should have scratched. And I, for one, am quite ready to read this tale.

Live Strong.

Crawling out of my hidey-hole . . .

well, maybe not quite yet, but between processing our garden produce (which is quite bountiful) and preparing for the Fall semester (which, perhaps somewhat ironically, I have been reading up on the pedagogical benefits and drawbacks of using blogs in the teaching of writing while surreptitiously neglecting my own blog), designing an intermediate composition course that both engages public affairs but does not, in any way, compromise academic and intellectual freedom nor displaces writing as the primary focus of the course, digging in to more dissertation work before the Fall, and preparing for my oldest, dearest friend's bridal shower and October wedding, I have woefully neglected my blog.

Not that I am complaining: to the contrary, this time of year is invigorating and exciting . . .

But back to my purpose, here (besides disrupting the illusion that I have abandoned my blog): any of you folks have experience using blogs in your teaching? Thoughts about it? Visceral reactions? I'd love to hear from ya'.

Tagged by the literati lizard. . .

My pal Bradley recently memed a little meme of literary classics, and I agreed to follow suit. So here goes:

Q1. What is the best classic you were “forced” to read in school (and why)?

Hmm . . . [scanning bookshelf]. This kind of question is precisely what makes canon discussions so darn difficult, no? Okay, so . . .

Today, at this moment, I’m thinking my choice must be Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man (though some may foolishly contest its canonical status). Here’s why:

Though separated by both time and war, Ellison’s novel seems to me the logical conclusion of two truly remarkable American moments, the Jazz Age and the Harlem Renaissance, in style, tone, and subject: for me, it’s like the literary grandchild of Dorothy Parker and Langston Hughes. Still almost painfully relevant, Invisible Man is uniquely, cogently, an American novel, one that speaks across multiple cultural moments---its narrator’s, its author’s, and this, our contemporary moment. Consider Ellison’s lines: “Step outside the narrow borders of what men call reality and you step into chaos [. . .] or imagination” (576) and “Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in the face of certain defeat” (577). The book is worth reading for these passages alone.

In fact, it has been a decade since I last read it; I do believe it is time to have another look.

Q2: What was the worst classic you were forced to endure (and why)?

Vanity Fair. Vanity Fair. Oh, Dear God, Vanity Fair. Never has any author even come close to rivaling Thackeray’s contemptible, damnable characters. I hated them all. I hate him for writing them into existence. I realize that it is intentionally a “Novel without a Hero.” I don’t care. Vanitas Vanitatum be damned. I hate this novel. If I have to say much more, I will just start swearing uncontrollably.

Q3: Which classic should every student be required to read (and why)?

Though not fiction (and for some reason I just assumed we were talking fiction here), I’m going to jump genre and recommend that every student should be required to read and thoughtfully consider Aristotle’s On Rhetoric and Poetics (and since there is a quality compilation edition available, I’m counting these treatises as one). There is so much of value for anyone interested in language, discourse, civic participation, et al.

(and . . . can you require someone to ‘thoughtfully consider’ a work? Neat.)

If I must decide on a distinctly literary piece, however, then I’ll go with poetry here and select Dante’s The Inferno (the rest of the Divine Comedy should be recommended, but not required, reading).

Q4: Which classic should be put to rest immediately (and why)?

This is a tough one because even though there are a few classics I despise (Canterbury Tales, Vanity Fair, Tess of the D’Urbervilles, The House of Mirth, The Old Man and the Sea), I suppose I can see their literary value and purpose. But to put to rest a classic . . .

Well . . . it’s a major stretch, but I’ll go with the entire Star Trek corpus (including the franchise). Maybe only a cult classic, the novels were inspired by a bad ‘60s television show!? C’mon now. So I’ll go with a loose interpretation of ‘classic’ and ax Star Trek, effective immediately.

I’m also a little over the Kerouac hype, but I don’t know if I’d put On the Road to rest, per se---especially since I kinda dig it.

Q5: **Bonus** Why do you think certain books become classics?

Here I’ll adopt Kerr’s definition of curriculum and apply it to the classics: “nothing less than the statement a college [perhaps in this case, a culture] makes about what, out of the totality of man’s [sic] constantly growing knowledge and experience, is considered useful, appropriate, or relevant to the lives of educated men and women at a certain point of time.”

That, coupled with longevity--or perhaps the honoring of or curiousity about what has been “useful, appropriate, or relevant” to previous generations ---is, to my mind, what makes a classic.

I would also argue that craft has something to do with it, though that may be a troubled and tenuous argument.




And now, to plagiarize Bradley, if you are reading this, consider yourself tagged.

Okay . . . just . . . breathe . . .

So, after my run this evening, my hubby drops this little bomb:

Kurt: So did ya’ read the sports news today?

Me: Oh! That Rodriguez and Michigan will pay up on what they owe WVU?

Kurt: Okay, no. The other sports news: a few of the Steelers shareholders have been shopping the team around. Not the Chairman---what’s his name?

Me: [with growing shock and panic] Dan Rooney?!

Kurt: Yeah, not him, but I guess his brother . . . and a few other family members who hold shares.

Me: But . . . . But . . . . [blathering, incomprehensible, breathless drivel]

[Pause]

But . . . Rooney! Pittsburgh! Steelers!

[Pause]

NO! Art Rooney bought that team in 1933! They can’t---

Kurt: Well, we’re in an age without loyalty . . .

Me: The Steelers are all about loyalty! They’ve only had three coaches in nearly 40 years!

[Pause]

Can’t . . . leave . . . Pittsburgh!

Must be Steelers. Must be Pittsburgh. Must be Rooney. Not good. Not good at all.

[Pause. Panic growing.]

No, no, no, no, no. Won’t happen. The City of Pittsburgh will NEVER let it happen. They can’t. Oh, they can’t. I don’t think I can breathe. I hope those other Rooneys don’t live in Pittsburgh . . . mob . . . pitchforks . . . torches . . . black tar, gold feathers . . .

How. Dare. They?!

[Frantic searching on the Web]

Okay . . . from Steelers.com:

“Steelers Chairman Dan Rooney stated, ‘I have spent my entire life devoted to the Pittsburgh Steelers and the National Football League. I will do everything possible to work out a solution to ensure my father’s legacy of keeping the Steelers in the Rooney family and in Pittsburgh for at least another 75 years.’”

And this guy, this Matthew J. Darnell, from Yahoo! Sports, I enjoy him:

Steelers fans can take comfort in the following:

• Druckenmiller [the team's prospective buyer] might be the only man on the planet who's worth more than $3 billion and regularly paints his face for football games

• He wore a Troy Polamalu jersey and a hard-hat to a game last year

• Will not sit in a luxury box, and prefers to be in the stands with like-minded Steelers fans

• There's no chance he'd move the Steelers out of Pittsburgh

• He'd let Dan Rooney control the team for as long as Rooney would like

Kurt: Well that’s good news, anyway. This Druckenmiller seems like a decent guy.

Me: I guess we’ll see. Ugh. I feel ill.

~end conversation~

For the love of all that is good and just and right and holy in this world, please---please!---don't mess with the Black and Gold!

Go Stillers!

Never-friggin'-more

As if, as a die-hard Pittsburgh Steelers fan, I actually needed another reason to hate the Baltimore Ravens (aka 'Old' Browns):

Ravens to Offer Fans Free 'Peck-Your-Eyes-Out' Service

Trained ravens as mascots, the actual friggin' birds, ominously gliding around the stadium and screeching out touchdown and Go Ravens?!

My take?

Apocalyptic flurry of feathered, mite-infested, sharp-beaked, scaly-taloned ebony horror. Gah!

Friggin' GAH!

Auroral Kilometric Radiation (AKR)

Okay, so . . . the 3rd grade science geek in me is all kinds of excited about this clip from SPACE.com:

http://www.space.com/php/video/player.php?video_id=080627-earth-sounds

I've been a big fan of the aurora since the first time I saw it
over Lake Superior . . . .

Okay. Okay. My fascination with the aurora maybe began earlier when I learned about it via Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem's "Can You Picture That?" lyrics,

Lost my heart in Texas
Northern lights affect us
I keep it underneath my hat
Aurora Borealis
shinin' down to Dallas!
Can you picture that?
Can you picture that?

Yeah, well . . . learning comes from unusual places sometimes. Anywho . . .

These 'Earth sounds?' Seriously cool.

Back from my brain break . . .

at least for a while, and I’ve recently (re)turned my attention to what I’ve referred to in a previous post as the ‘professional parcel,’ the marketing of oneself in academe. It’s a funny little dance, isn’t it? Complicated, or perhaps enhanced?, a tad by open-access blogs et al. glimpses of persona via the Web. From my Higher Ed Leadership and org theory coursework (and experience), I’ve come to appreciate the importance of institutional culture, collegial and human resource frameworks, and ‘fit’ (for both the institution and the individual) when it comes to building, enhancing, or contributing to an academic community.

To frame it another way (in my brain’s vernacular), the interviewing/hiring process is, like academe itself, an inherently rhetorical project: the claimant works to establish a desirable ethos in order to persuade her audience that the ‘brand’ of professional teacher/scholar/administrator (logos) and general human being (pathos?), an ethos that lends itself to the going academic/community/professional climate and is consistent with (or at the very least amenable to) the institutional mission and goals. This makes sense to me, but moving theory into practice is not, as always, quite so straightforward.

When I think of my ideal positions, which all have at least some explicit administrative/policy/leadership component, I realize that though from my perspective my training, experience, and scholarship may support in very specific ways the responsibilities associated with the position(s), those hiring for those positions may not necessarily see the connection between, say, rhetoric and administration. Goodness knows I’ve had plenty of practice trying to explain my decision to minor in Ed Leadership and Policy Analysis, though the marriage of the discrete areas seems perfectly logical to me—but I also have something of a tendency toward the enthymematic argument because by the time I reason out a particular conclusion I am so intimately familiar with the premises that got me there that they seem so readily apparent that I worry I will insult my audience by their mention; of course, I also suspect I am not unique in this regard. At any rate, I imagine negotiating the challenge of professional ‘fit’ is shared by just about every person who ever sought a job.

But then there’s the tricky personal tab of the personnel file, the one that could certainly influence ‘fit’ in ways not readily predicted by assessment of the professional profile and posture. Bradley spent some time considering this aspect of the job market dynamic a while back, with specific regard for marriage and political alignment, and in today’s Chronicle, Na'ema Suleiman (pseudonym) frames the consideration in terms of parenthood, specifically motherhood.

For me, the questions are these:

Just how much relevant ‘pathos’ should a person offer when marketing the ‘professional parcel’? Or, more to the point, what ‘pathos’ is relevant?

Does a Web presence actually offer a reprieve from directly engaging these personal matters? Or, is allowing your Web presence to communicate the sticky details that may or may not impact ‘fit’ too evasive or even devious? Or (again) might it serve as a form of passive resistance to answer the kinds of unfortunate circumstances that would make such disclosures a professional liability?

And, finally, the old question persists: would I want to present a version of myself that is in any way fragmented or incomplete . . . would I want to misrepresent myself or my priorities in any way to land the dream job? Would I want a position that required this of me? And what if my professional priorities and my personal priorities are neither in conflict nor inextricably intertwined, but are, to a relevant degree, mutually exclusive? Then is the question of ‘relevant pathos’ moot?

I’d be interested to hear other folks’ thoughts on this. It is exciting, and a little unsettling, to consider . . . but the real question, for me, when it comes right down to it, is this: will all this deliberation actually help me land a job, and once I do, will it help me do my job well?

Let Levi Ride!

In my earlier post today, I mentioned that the Tour de France begins one month from today. Now, in case you hadn't heard, the Tour has been plagued by doping scandals of every variety for several years now, and in an effort to clean up the sport, the ASO (that's the organization that regulates the sport) made the decision in February to ban Team Astana from competing in the Tour because of their past involvement in said scandals. Trouble is, Team Astana has undergone a complete renovation in the off season and, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, has been completely reformed. With their decision, however, the ASO effectively met that Phoenix with the business end of an unfriendly double-barrel.

More to my point, part of Team Astana's reformation included inviting the incomparable Levi Leipheimer to lead the team, a man who joined Team Astana after the (sad) dissolution of the U.S. Team Discovery (formerly U.S. Postal . . . the team led for so many years by a Mr. Lance Armstrong--ever hear of him?).

I realize that of the three people who read my blog, two have absolutely no interest in sports (and that might be a generous estimate, on both counts). I also realize that support for cycling in the U.S. is just about nil. Still, Leipheimer is a dedicated competitor who has always conducted himself honorably. He is an athlete truly worthy of the iconic status of "role model" that is often too easily tossed around in our sports culture: disciplined, fair, humble, immensely talented, and possessing unbelievable endurance. He is the embodiment of all the sport, and especially the Tour, should want to represent.

So I am making an appeal to all you friendly academic types et al. who sometimes visit my musings here to take a half-minute to visit the Let Levi Ride Website and show your support. Please?

So there's no use in weeping / Bear a cheerful spirit still*

CONGRATULATIONS

to the Detroit Red Wings, who clinched the Cup in Pittsburgh last night. While it would have been nice for them to take the series at home, I am glad that the City of Pittsburgh could share that moment with them. It was nice to see that many Pens fans were clapping for the Wings at the end . . . and a few even stayed for the presentation of the trophies! Truly, none are more deserving of hoisting that shiny, 35-pound symbol of victory than the Wings.

Having said that,

Congrats, too, to the Pittsburgh Penguins, who also deserve kudos for fighting to the very last tenth-of-a-second to try to tie it up. It is terrible to come so close only to lose the championship on home ice, but the Pens proved a worthy opponent comprised of fierce competitors of damn-near unparalleled talent. I can't help but have a sense that throughout the series we were witnessing the evolution of a (big-T) Team, and I will be looking forward to next season.

Thus ends my series of posts about hockey . . . but the Tour begins in only a month, and I do have that little-bitty thing called a dissertation to occupy my writing self, so I

Bear a cheerful spirit still*

and focus my attention elsewhere. Thanks to both organizations for a great series--it's been a hell of a show!






*I wonder what Charlotte Bronte, whom I doubt could ever have imagined her work appropriated thus, would have to say about the marriage of poetry and athletics?

Which is worse:

the fact that VP Cheney’s ill-wrought attempt at “West Virginia” humor relied on a lazy and useless trope or the uninspired, vapid commentary issued in response to his snarky remark?

As one who studies rhetoric with an eye to public discourse, I just don’t know what to make of the majority of the comments posted online, the “Web 2.0 New Democracy,” an example of which may be seen over at The Washington Post.

This is the state of our civic discourse?!

Sadly, I have even seen similar discursive techniques, and I use the term loosely, pass as scholarship on rare occasion. But the real question, to my mind, is this: how are we to hold our public officials accountable, how are we even to take each other seriously, when our engagement in public discussions about civic leadership, governance, culture, and participation—not to mention ideological and social difference—amounts to little more than untenable insults, argumenta ad hominem, and generalized smack?

C’mon, folks: shame on us. I know we can do better. Right?

So, I took the Wings in 5 . . .

and I've never been so happy to be wrong! As I watched the game last night, breathless and negotiating that razor's edge between frenzied enthusiasm and waking the kids (or annoying my quiet-by-nature husband), it occurred to me that I really, really wanted the Pens to win. It could be that I was just not ready for the series—and the season—to end. It could be, too, that I am truly just a 'Burgh-sports gal through‘n through. But I think what affected me the most was the way these guys—on both sides—have been playing in the last couple of games: despite a few early hiccups and nonsense, this has become an outstanding, exciting series.

And speaking of outstanding, who could fail to be impressed by Fleury? For my money, he’s the Game 5 MVP. It’s one thing to face 58 shots on goal, most of them rapid-fire, but to face 58 shots courtesy of the Detroit Red Wings? That’s a whole new realm of impressive.

Triple OT, Gonchar’s comeback, Malone’s puck-to-the-face-turned-triumphant-albeit-bloody-return, Fleury’s aforementioned brilliance, Crosby’s quiet leadership—how could I not get behind these guys last night? I still think the Wings are the better team all around and deserve, ultimately, to win the Cup, but I have no problem with the Pens making it a challenge rather than a gimme. Screwy OT penalties that seemed almost contrived—especially the pair of interference calls made in the 1st and 2nd OTs—notwithstanding, last night’s game, to borrow the old cliché, was the stuff of legends. That's what I want out of the playoffs.

I can’t wait for Game 6 . . . but I’m still hopin’ for a trip back to Joe Louis for the big, shiny denouement.

And while I'm on this hockey kick . . .

Here's my little guy,

a boy conflicted.


Well, at least maybe he'll grow learning how to appreciate and negotiate diverse and conflicting perspectives . . .

or he'll keep a good counselor in business.

Cheers!

Man up, boys.

Game 3 ended just moments ago, Pens 3, Wings 2. As I mentioned at the start of the series, I am conflicted. I’m becoming less so as the series continues.

See, this is the first game I’ve actually been able to watch. Believe it or not, I could not find Game 1 when I was in Seattle. It wasn’t broadcast on any of the channels I had in my hotel room. It wasn’t shown on the televisions in the bar downstairs. We even went to an awesome brewery that night and no Game 1?! They had basketball. They had poker (WTF?). They had soccer. They had no hockey. The trip was awesome. The city was awesome. The RSA conference was beyond awesome (more on that later). But I could not find hockey in the city of Seattle. Thank goodness I have such a great husband, who sent me text and cell updates.

My flight through Kansas City was delayed a bit on Monday, so I didn’t get home until after Game 2 had ended. But I’ve been hearing . . . things. About the games. About the Pens. Not so much good. Then tonight I saw it for myself. The Pens were playing dirty. Not just tough. Not just physical. They had a few moves in there that were plain uncalled for. Unsportsmanlike. Disrespectful. A damn shame.

These boys are talented, but they are looking like . . . I don’t know what. In sports, I want to see talent matched with class. Don’t laugh–class is what sets apart the champions. Champions show respect. Respect for the game. Respect for the fans. Respect for skilled opponents like the Detroit Red Wings. I’m just not seeing that right now in the Penguins. I really want them to do well, and it was great to see them play well tonight, but in Games 1 & 2 they were outplayed . . . in each game of this series, even tonight, they were seriously outclassed.

Still, I’m hoping this series goes all the way. I’ll always be a Pens fan. I’ll always be a Wings fan. But I do think the former could learn a little something from the latter.

Q: What’s Black and Gold and Red All Over?

A: The Stanley Cup finals.

I think my head is going to explode.

When the Pens put it away Sunday afternoon, I was elated . . . and I immediately issued a snarky-yet-good-humored taunt to my cousin and a good friend who are both Flyers fans-—-and who had both been giving me a hard time the whole series. I have also had a slightly altered version of George Clinton in my head since Sunday, singing

“We want the cup! Gotta have that cup!
~YAOW~
We need the cup! Gotta have that cup!”

It’s been a LONG time. It’s been a LONG, UGLY 16 years for the Pens. I started college in Downtown Pittsburgh immediately after their back-to-back Stanley Cup victories in the early ‘90s. These were the days of Jaromir Jagr, Mario Lemieux (generation I), Tom Barrasso (I LOVED Barrasso!), Ron Francis, Phil Bourque, Paul Coffey . . . so many rockin’ ice men. Duquesne University, my school, was literally just a couple of blocks from the Civic Arena, and if you presented your student ID 30 minutes before game time, you could buy whatever seats they had left for, like, $11. Of course, I started college in ‘93, and we were always hoping for a repeat of their championship seasons . . . but the games were always exciting nonetheless, and the atmosphere was unparalleled.

I was in grad school in Michigan by the time Lemieux (generation II) shook off retirement and returned to the ice, and everybody hoped the mighty Pens would be reborn-—-came close, but during the playoffs they lost in quadruple overtime to . . . the Flyers (are you beginning to understand why I’m so dang excited . . . and why I couldn’t resist the aforementioned taunt?). Since then, with the escalating threats that the Pens would leave Pittsburgh, etc., etc., it’s been tough to get behind the team.

But now, with Lemieux (generation III) still at the helm (thank goodness!), new ice in the works, and the security of the team’s permanence in da ‘Burgh, I am so ready for the ultimate victory.

BUT

In the middle of all the Penguin strife, and during Lemieux II, I was (as I noted) in Michigan. It was there that my appreciation for the game itself deepened, in part because hockey is a part of the culture there, in part because I was able to watch the Canadian coverage of the games (which is far, far superior to the U.S.’) and in part because we had an awesome college team to follow: the NMU Wildcats. It was also there that I met—and I am sure this is a contributing factor, too--- my Michigan family and the two biggest Wings fans I’d ever encountered-—-the ladies who would become my sister-in-law and mother-in-law. And during the Wings’ 2002 Stanley Cup series victory, I sat at my soon-to-be in-laws’ house, watching the Wings and putting together wedding favors. Sentimental? Yepper. But I’ve been a fan of the Wings ever since—certainly not in the same category as my sister-in-law and mother-in-law, but a fan just the same. Last night’s victory pretty much sent me over the moon.

So here we are, the PENS against the WINGS for the Stanley Cup. I had prepared myself for the possibility that one day the Steelers might meet the Packers in the Super Bowl, but for some reason I’d never really mentally prepared for this NHL scenario. Even as I watched the Eastern and Western finals, knowing in my gut what the outcome would be (despite Dallas’ hometown officiating), I just hadn’t prepared. Come Saturday, I’ll be cheering for every goal, every assist, every save . . .

. . . and don’t even get me started on the power plays-—-will I root for a short-handed goal or be screaming for this-one-or-that to take advantage of the situation? Man, folks are gonna think I’ve lost it. But at least it should be an amazing series. Here’s hopin’ for a Game 7!

GO PENS! / GO WINGS!
GO WINGS! / GO PENS!

Yup. Folks will definitely think I’ve finally lost it. Lord Stanley have mercy.

Keening o’er My Mountain Mama

Oh, how it pains me to criticize my beloved West Virginia! But in light of recent happenings, I have to say to the folks back home,

Some a' y’all don’t seem to have the sense God gave a goose!

This brief but scattered catalogue of thoughts will, hopefully, illustrate what I mean:

I suppose it began with the–ahem–departure of West Virginia’s (former) favorite son, Coach Rodriguez. Real class act, this guy, ditching his boys following an embarrassing, devastating, and season-changing loss to Pitt . . . but before finishing out the season in the Fiesta Bowl (ah, that victory was the sweetest of all victories, and coupled with the raw emotion and Mountaineer Spirit demonstrated by Bill Stewart, Pat White, and the rest of the ‘Eers in the face of what had just gone down, that particular moment-in-sports was damn near poetic—but I digress . . .).

Real bum move, if you ask me, Rodriguez leaving the team before the season ended, but given the questionable leadership at WVU, I can’t help but wonder about the other side of the story.

Which brings me to my next rub:

What the heck is going on at WVU anyway?

First there’s the Executive MBA scandal involving the Governor’s daughter . Really, why not just award her an ‘honorary degree?’ Then they could avoid the scandal that comes with the falsification of transcripts and jump right to the gratuitous conferring of degrees; it seems the two actions are a mere hairbreadth apart these days, though—theoretically—they differ in principle.

Brief aside: my friend and colleague William Bradley has addressed the issue of honorary degrees more thoroughly on his blog in recent weeks, so if you’re interested I’d encourage you to visit The Ethical Exhibitionist/Academia.

Okay. Then there’s the push for proprietary rights over the work of creative writers at WVU by requiring students in the creative writing programs to make their masters’ theses available online. I realize that ownership/authorship of written work is complicated, and intellectual property is further complicated by the writer/researcher/institution dynamic; as I understand it, the university owns all intellectual property created by any member of the university community using university resources (understanding, too, that members of the university community themselves are resources, from an organizational standpoint), and therefore the university has the right to retain, reproduce, and distribute the work. I also understand that while individuals are permitted to copyright the same work, the university retains the additional intellectual property rights.

Another aside: U of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign put together a handy little at-a-glance guide to this intellectual property chaos.

Complicated though they may be, there are plenty of good reasons for these protections, and most assume a certain reciprocity between author and institution; at the most basic level, an author’s copyright can protect his or her unique arrangement of words/symbols and the institution can protect his or her ideas. This works fine in the sciences where methods, procedures, practices–in essence, ideas—must be replicated for disciplinary integrity. But creative writing presents a different problem: it is here that the unique arrangement of words/symbols—the craft, process, and ‘finished’ work itself—does different work than the lab report or even the scholarly treatise, and the value—or at least part of the value—of a creative work is not that it can be replicated, but that it cannot. Further, these traditions belong to two different publishing cultures and two discrete philosophical paradigms. The concessions made by WVU administrators to allow students a five-year window to publish their creative work before posting it to the Web is not sufficient. It can be that a work is complete for the purpose of fulfilling degree requirements but is still in process in terms of its art, and it may take some time—even more than five years!—for the artist to refine and revise the work until the writer’s vision is actualized.

Regardless, what WVU has proposed for its creative writers is bad policy—and as a proponent of said bad policy Director of Creative Writing Mark Winegardner’s absurd argument, as quoted in the Chronicle of Higher Education, that “it looks like the weird creative types are asking to be let out of gym class,” falls woefully short.

And finally, Clinton by a landslide? Pshaw. You know, only around 23% of eligible voters turned out for the Democratic primary (and, sadly, only roughly 12% turned out for the Republican primary back in February), and when only (roughly) a third of the voting population turns out, theirs are the voices that are heard—-but they may not be representative of the whole of the state, despite "random sample" arguments to the contrtary. Still, seeing Clinton win in West Virginia by such a margin is unsettling---and for a whole variety of reasons, but that's more than I really want to get into at the moment.


Besides, I really do believe that all of these instances that I’m bellyachin’ about—from the academic to the athletic to the political to the social—are the exception and not the rule in the great Wild, Wonderful. Of course, it is discouraging that only about a third of voters made it to the polls during this primary season, a trend hardly unique to West Virginia . . . but that’s another can of worms.

"That was neat, wasn't it?"

We bought a new laptop a few weeks back, so I have been slowly replacing and/or updating our software. The new machine runs Vista, so not everything is compatible. Case in point: my scanner, which is old but in perfect shape, is now obsolete. Most of our hardware and software have patches and driver updates available, but when I clicked on the 'Vista' button in search of a driver for the scanner, no dice. Instead of a download, I got a nice little note that said something like "regrettably we we no longer offer service updates for your device. Please consider buying a new product." B00.

[Insert sad commentary here.]

Today, the tech world gave me another little, mildly amusing, slap with its kid glove or, rather, a blast of canned air to the face: see, I prefer Corel WordPerfect over MS Word because, well, I just do. We can talk about it another time. Anywho, in the interim between the purchase of the new computer and the arrival of my new WordPerfect software (which still requires a Vista service pack to run), I downloaded the free trial version so I wouldn't be SOL when working on any of my going-projects-of-the-moment (i.e. fellowship apps, the dissertation 'package,' LORs, poems, E201 Undergraduate Writing and Research Exhibition, conference papers/proposals, etc.). Well, the trial period expired, and instead of a dry notice and the expected information about converting to the full version, I got this:

"That was neat, wasn't it?"

Who wrote that?! Nelson Muntz?! Even now, I can hear his trademark "Heh!Heh!" Still, I gotta admire their approach and pluck, glove/canned-air-to-the-face or no.

The Simplest of Pleasures

You know, I’m not much for summer weather: after all, I moved to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula nine years ago—and to Wisconsin four years ago—on purpose. I’m also probably the most intense ornithophobe you’d ever care to meet. Yet, I cleaned and hung my hummingbird feeder today, and seeing it—this Symbol-of-Summer and Beacon-of-Birds—suspended just outside my kitchen window brings me such silly, uncomplicated, quiet happiness. Paradox or no, everyone should feel this nice every once in a while.

So here’s wishing you a little moment of your own, even—or perhaps especially—if it doesn’t make any sense at all. Cheers!

A few thoughts about CHANGE and Senator Obama’s Hubris

I’ve been thinking: when one considers the dynamics of CHANGE as a political platform, it becomes clear that Senator Obama’s comments last week regarding the lives and values of small-town Pennsylvanians are not at all inconsistent with his message of HOPE and CHANGE.

The way I see it, HOPE makes lemonade out of the lemons of desperation and dejectedness. It gives folks a reason to persevere, to become empowered agents, and to give thanks even in the darkest of times. It is a powerful, beautiful, transformative force. It allows one to overcome difficulties, to seek CHANGE. So HOPE leads to CHANGE. And even better, widespread HOPE leads to widespread CHANGE. Shame on anyone who would sincerely wish to argue against positive CHANGE born of HOPE. But . . .

this transition from HOPE to CHANGE depends on one very important variable: one’s general dissatisfaction with one’s situation—one’s need for CHANGE. Anyone can have HOPE, and for a variety of reasons, but to turn that HOPE into action takes initiative; thus widespread HOPE and widespread CHANGE as a campaign platform—or at least the particular brand of HOPE and CHANGE that Senator Obama is peddling—depends on a pervasive sense of widespread dissatisfaction among the constituency. What a swell time, then, to capitalize on the constituency’s rancor and run such a campaign: there seems to be a lot of dissatisfaction in the air—and it smells like springtime in farm country.

Perhaps, then, this odious and familiar scent was still swirling in his nostrils when Senator Obama addressed his devout supporters in the golden City by the Bay, far removed from those broken and rusted patch towns of rural Pennsylvania—such poetic juxtaposition!; perhaps it was this scent he contemplated as he flew over the patchwork farm fields of the Midwest and came up with the idea that he could not only capitalize on the discontent that often inspires HOPE and certainly drives CHANGE, but that he could cultivate it, too, like farmers cultivate their crops, by simultaneously (and indirectly) reminding folks just how bad they really have it—reminding them all the while that he understands—and by capitalizing on this misfortune in disparaging terms to those whose local culture and lifestyle could not be further removed from those about whom he spoke as a means to explain away views and values he and his polished audience find naive or objectionable.

The arrogance of his assumptions is compounded by the fact that by pointing out the misfortune of those who have been making their way off the vestiges of an economy two-decades gone to an audience who is completely economically, culturally, and ideologically removed from them smacks of condescension. Back home, we call that tellin’ tales out of school, and it is not honorable. It is not honorable to affect a posture of sympathy and pity and superiority, to congratulate oneself for one’s depth of understanding in the company of one’s peers. It is not honorable to affect temperance and generosity of spirit.

I’ll not condemn Senator Obama’s recent remarks as “elitist”: I’ll leave that to the misguided populists who seem hell-bent on perpetuating such an unhelpful dichotomy in American life. I will say, however, that his comments are reminiscent of the attitudes of 18th century British colonizers upon encountering indigenous populations, those for whom ‘primitive’ behaviors suggested a want of understanding.

Senator Obama’s remarks were not mangled, nor was this a syntactical mistake, as he has claimed, but it is a perfect example of a logical fallacy: nothing Senator Obama said was untrue—that is, until he reached his damnable conclusion. To say that small-town Pennsylvanians are bitter, disheartened, frustrated, perhaps angry—this is not the issue. To claim that it is misses the point. The point is that his assumptions about those who “cling” to what is often described as “small town values” because they have nothing left to hold on to suggests ignorance, simple mindedness, and a lack of sophistication. Thus his is a fallacy of the most confounding sort in that he built a reasonable argument on the foundation of valid premises, only to advance a faulty conclusion—a conclusion that, paradoxically, seems all the more true because of the accuracy of his premises.

At once brilliant and unethical, this seems to me a calculated risk that afforded him the ability to excuse himself for his poor locution (whoops!) without actually apologizing for his own hubris and damaging, hurtful assumptions about the lives and values of those with whom he clearly does not align; it allowed him to draw out his opponent (and, by the way, is anyone really surprised at how Clinton has conducted herself during this primary season?); and it has rallied his supporters, placing them in a position to defend his intent, arguing to give him a pass—after all, who among us has not experienced verbal blunders of our own?

(Most of) Wisconsin Got it (Mostly) Right

Rhetoricians rejoice (to a degree)! Yesterday, April 1st, we ‘Sconnies went to the polls . . .

and—WOW—did I just refer to myself as a ‘Sconnie? Anywho . . .

. . . [we] went to the polls to, among other things, right a 78 year-old wrong: voters overwhelmingly voted to remove (in part) the partial veto power of the governor. Since 1930, gubernatorial power included the lawful ability to selectively edit proposed spending legislation by removing words, phrases, numbers, and the like then splicing together all that remained to form a new spending bill, even if the new legislation bore no resemblance to the original. For an example, take a look at this. There are many ways to describe such a practice:

falsification
inaccurate alteration
democratic circumvention
unethical omission
adulteration and/or bastardization
rhetorically reprehensible action

‘Round here, it is most often referred to as the “Frankenstein Veto,” and it proved a mighty unpopular practice among voters (71% voted to amend the state constitution to ban the practice).

I am not necessarily opposed to veto power. I’m not even (theoretically) opposed to line-item veto power when it is used to strike down language units in their entirety. Both offer the potential for further deliberation and negotiation between executive and legislative powers, and both possibilities limit the potential for abuses or imbalances of power; however, this business of reconfiguring meaning by systematically deleting, fragmenting, and reorganizing symbols? Bah.

As one who teaches writing and rhetoric, I am relieved that the next time I instruct students about ethical and accurate research practices and language use, about authorship and intellectual probity—and most particularly about the importance of maintaining the integrity of language in quotations—there will be less (and I do emphasize less) of a disjunct between the practices I endorse (or insist upon) and the practices of one of our nation’s most prominent sites for rhetorical engagement.

It is a small victory, as the specific language of the referendum passed yesterday delimits only the scrapbooking together of the fragmented remains following the culling of the governor’s undesired bits of the legislation and not the selective culling itself, but it is victory nonetheless.

MWF, 32, ABD, seeks professional identity . . .

I suppose it’s easy for some: the butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker. It starts, really, in college: the use of the standard template,

“Hi. I’m Darcy. I’m a sophomore butchery major.”
“Hello. I’m Nate, a third-semester senior culinary major with an emphasis in fondant.”
“I’m Jamie, a junior candlestick-arts major. Hi.”

Instant identity tag, and it serves an interesting, perhaps important, social-rhetorical function. So when it comes to describing what it is I do—or, given the cultural practice and expectations associated with professional “branding,” who I am—I’m having a bit of a crisis. Well, maybe not crisis, per se, but something. A shift. A reorganization of self-knowledge. A period of adjustment. In the Maslow/Goldstein model, I guess I’m not self-actualized at the moment.

It may be the nature of graduate school, one function of which is to move the individual from student-status to professional-status, that explains my unrest; as a graduate student, I have been at once a student and an instructor. But even that has become more complicated: as a Ph.D. candidate, I’ve completed all my coursework, so I’m a student without a classroom. I’m working on a project that I hope will make at least some meaningful and original contribution to the field–or, rather, to at least one of the multiple fields I’m attempting to negotiate—so I am a student in that I am learning more all the time, Ancora Imparo, but I’m no longer attending classes: that phase of my formal education is complete. My professors feel less like professors, in the traditional sense, and more like colleague/mentors; those who were my classmates are now decisively my colleagues. It is a strange awakening. Not at all unpleasant, but certainly strange.

Then there’s the actual professional practice of teaching. When I teach, and I say this without arrogance, I teach very well. I am invested in my students’ learning because I am invested in my subject. But I don’t think of myself as a teacher. This perplexes people when I say it. Their eyes, under a skeptical, furrowed brow, ask, “but aren’t you planning to be a professor? And aren’t professors teachers?” Well . . . yes. But I don’t think of myself as a teacher. A facilitator, most certainly, but a teacher? It’s hard to explain, but the teaching-learning dynamic is different in higher education; therefore, the role of the instructor is also different. Further, as of this writing I have not been in an instructional role for almost a year; instead, I’ve been serving as a WPA for the program in which I have taught for the last two years. So what does this have to do with my search for a professional identity? Here’s my reasoning:

If teaching is my first love—no, wait. If teaching writing is my first love—but no, that’s not quite right either. Writing is my first love; teaching writing is the maturation of that love. Still, I’m not certain I want to marry my first love. Without it, though, I couldn’t understand the role of a WPA (my new love?); I couldn’t be an advocate for the multiple constituencies—most importantly the students and their instructors—invested in the program, and I wouldn’t understand the policies and practices that inform the culture of the writing program(s) I serve, nor could I grasp the implications of said policies and practices.

Add to all of this that my field is rhetoric, at once unintentionally esoteric and ubiquitous and generally misunderstood; that my scholarly interests and curiosities are about as orderly as the flickering of fireflies over a hayfield in late August; and that, in addition, I still consider myself something of a poet, essayist, Jazz Age Literature scholar, et al., then the process of branding becomes even more complicated: when I try to explain to folks what I do, I am met with the very same skeptical, furrowed brow as referenced above.

So every little pebble I’ve cobbled together to this point in my career reveals nothing, yet, of a cogent professional identity. The artistic, slightly bohemian side of me says, “Oh, how delightfully chaotic,” but the “old-style conservative realist” (Lieven) in me says, “Focus. Get organized. Be precise. You can’t market what you can’t parcel.” Given that it will soon be my turn to commit myself to the academic job market, my old-style conservative realist makes a compelling argument, but this collage is proving difficult to brand.

Congratulations, Amy!

Congratulations Amy!

My cousin recently passed her driver’s test and is now fully licensed. In honor of her success, I offer the following:

Amy, now that you’re licenced to motor, I have a few of my favorite, hard-learned (yes, sadly, all from experience) tips for you. In no particular order (ahem) . . .

1. It’s not usually a good idea to pass tanker trucks . . .
. . . on a two-lane country road
. . . in a no-passing zone
. . . on a curve
. . . when your dad told you not to take your car to school.

2. Those giant concrete planters that you often see in cities, larger towns, on campuses, etc.? Yeah, they tip over and break when you back into them hard enough.

3. If you happen to back over your boyfriend’s aunt’s mailbox, it’s generally a good idea to pull the car off the road, turn off the ignition, and close the door before carrying the broken mailbox, post, and tread-marked mail up the driveway.

4. Always—and this is important—open the garage door before backing out of the garage.

5. When taking a long road-trip with friends, letting your cat ride on the dashboard is . . . complicated (right, Lucy?).

6. When you get pulled over, remember to pull off to the right (not across traffic to the left).

7. Doing 75 in a 25 is rarely a negotiable ticket.

8. If you are ever caught speeding in Michigan with an out-of-state license, be sure to have the cash handy to cover the fine; otherwise, they will take your license on the spot.

9. Sometimes, “Honestly officer: I didn’t realize I was going that fast! It’s just such a beautiful day, and I had good tunes on the radio . . .” actually works.

10. If you happen to find that you’ve managed to place you car on the top of a rather large snow drift (i.e. you need climbing gear to get to your vehicle), a couple of evergreen branches under the tires and the help of a couple of cute frat boys usually does the trick.

11. 7:1 is probably not the best bumper to car ratio (over a three year period).

12. It is unusual, and not particularly recommended, to transport friends in the trunk. Especially tall and/or large friends.

13. Be sure you know how to change the tire: should you ever, say, slide sideways through a field or grassy embankment, it is nice to be able to refuse help from the creepy guy who offers.

14. If after #30 you lose count of how many times you have been pulled over, you might want to rethink your strategy.

15. If you happen to get lost in the general region east of L.A. and the cop you ask for directions laughs at you, find a trucker (again: right, Lucy?).

16. On down the road, when you go on your first outing with your fiance’s mother, you can be sure that backing into another car will make an impression.

17. Rain-X is cool.

18. Should you find it absolutely necessary to, ahem, communicate with another driver in another vehicle, be sure that he or she is not a police officer . . . or sheriff.

19. If you are running late and have to move your roommate’s and/or friend’s car because she a) can’t or b) is being generally uncooperative, try very hard not to lock her keys in her vehicle . . .
. . . while it’s running
. . . and in the middle of the street
. . . accidentally on purpose
. . . at 7 a.m. on a Saturday.

20. If you happen to back someone’s bright red, vintage 1979 Firebird Trans-Am into a pine tree, the best thing to say is “I’m so, so sorry” NOT “See? I told you that you need to cut down that tree!” Contrite is best. Especially if *someone* happens to be your mother.

22. While drag racing off a traffic light in downtown Pittsburgh can be a great way to meet friends, it is generally discouraged.

23. It is great fun to confuse the cop who pulls you over by insisting that you know him from somewhere . . . where could it be? (Bonus tip: be sure he doesn’t know you from a previous traffic stop).

24. It can be a tad awkward when the cop who pulls you over—and who pulled you over last week . . . and about three weeks before that—is a good friend of your mother’s . . . but it is VERY funny when he tells you that you drive like your mother!

25. And finally, remember this rule: “those entering a traffic circle must yield to those already in the traffic circle” AND that this rule does not apply, it seems, to Carmichaels, PA.


Be safe, drive smart, drive defensively, and remember this mantra:

I’m a good driver. I’m a good driver. I’m a good driver.

"Without gerunds, your nightmare would've just recurred."

Lucy (a.k.a. my very own amor socraticus--or, in the incredibly annoying contemporary vernacular, my BFF), who works for the New York Times, sent me this link, and it is just too enjoyable not to pass along for those of you, like me, for whom language is religion.

Little aside: religion though it may be, I would not consider myself blindly devout in my worship and am reminded here of Frost's observation, "You can be a little ungrammatical if you come from the right part of the country." Just sayin' is all.

From the blue semicolon dude to the comments posted by readers (I took the name for this post from my particular favorite), what you will find here is about as enjoyable as a hot, hot, hot Venti, non-fat, sugar-free caramel latte on a cold, cold, COLD Wisconsin morning. Enjoy!


http://gawker.com/358157/nyt-makes-comma-error-inside-semicolon-article

Approaching the WI Primary

In just 20 days, Wisconsin voters will officially enter the 2008 political marathon, and I couldn’t be more befuddled or excited. I must confess, here, that I was a kid who couldn't wait to turn 18 just so I could register to vote, and I am still fired with that same wide-eyed energy when it comes to U.S. politics. As a republican—and, frankly, what feels like the token and oft misunderstood republican in academe—all I can think of is an old fight song that we used to sing to taunt the opposing—or, when awful circumstances warranted, our own—football team:

We’ll take a neck from some ol’ bottle!
We’ll take an arm from some ol’ chair!
We’ll take a leg from some ol’ table!
and from a horse we’ll take some hair [we’ll-take-some-hair].
And then we’ll put them all together
with a little string and glue–oou–ooou!
And we’ll get more action from a gosh-darn dummy
than we’ll ever get from you–oou–ooou!

Ah, to have a Build-A-Candidate Workshop! To make a composite candidate from all the best qualities from the field: a dash of McCain’s record for collaborating across the aisle, a pinch of Romney’s organizational leadership record, a smidgen of Huckabee’s integrity, a nip of Giuliani’s chutzpah and support for the nation’s servicemen and women, and several ladles of Paul’s grasp for the constitution and the (limited) role of the federal government delineated therein—what a project!

Together, these candidates (though Giuliani is now officially out) make an interesting collage, one that communicates a great deal about the complex and somewhat metamorphic identity of the republican party at present (I’ll tackle that topic another time and in another place, perhaps). While the idea of creating the übercandidate selected from the best qualities each has to offer is perhaps a wistful or amusing aside, in truth politics is always—has always been—about the human condition—which is fallible, vulnerable, contradictory, and often inconsistent. It is also precisely what makes it possible to learn, to defend that which must be defended and to eliminate that which is unjust, and to collaborate, deliberate, and negotiate across difference; it is what affords one the ability to hope, to dream. The trouble is, for me, what am I willing to concede to the realm of ‘let’s agree to disagree’ and what positions (and records) among the candidates are, for me, deal-breakers?

At this point in history when we as a people approach such a unique and nearly unprecedented presidential election, and in this precise moment and mood that I write, I am inclined to think that the best hope for our country—the very best possible spur and curb—is to see the parties come together and share the ticket: a republican and a democrat coming together to share the responsibility of leading the country from within the executive branch. I’m not a political scientist, perhaps obviously, and I suspect the implications of such a move could be . . . complex to say the least. But since I can’t use the Build-A-Bear—er, Candidate—approach (and even if such a thing were possible could we as an American constituency ever actually agree as to what qualities were ‘best’ anyway?), it might be interesting, for just a moment, to imagine where together, say, Senators Obama (for whom I have a great deal of respect for his apparent temperance) and McCain could take the country.

Caffeine Wishes and Anesthesia Dreams

You have to appreciate trends in modern medicine: through them I finally got my wish.

Long ago I decided that life would be much simpler if I could just have someone hook me up to an IV of caffeine—I wouldn’t have to slow down to sip. In my pre-op screening, the anesthesiologist asked me about my caffeine consumption. I explained my ‘caffeine layering’ technique: chai in the morning (2-4 cups); ‘energy water’ midmorning; coffee in the afternoon (pro re nata); the occasional espresso in the evening; caffeinated mints throughout. He asked me if I get headaches when I don’t consume. Well, yeah. So he ordered 500 cc of caffeine to be added to my IV. Nice man. My hero.

I thought he was kidding, but soon the nurse came with a little bitty vial of the good stuff. She checked the order, then asked me hold on. I overheard the conversation:

NURSE

500 cc? Is that right?

OTHER NURSE

Yes. That’s what he wrote.

NURSE

Okay. I just wanted to check [pause] because [pause, then whispered] she’s so small.

OTHER NURSE

Yeah. 500 cc. That’s the order. That’s what he wrote. I can check with him again . . .

NURSE

No, no. That’s what he wrote. Okay. Just like to double check.

[end dialogue]


I have such appreciation for modern medicine.