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Saturday, July 17, 2010

Certifiable

The other day, our FFB Emi Ha informed the world that the Mid-Atlantic state in which she currently resides had awarded her a certificate for doing exceptionally well on the Praxis exams--state-administered exams that would-be teachers need to pass. Emi Ha expressed high dudgeon (well, medium-dudgeon; she's Canadian) at the fact that the state wasted paper on a certificate--while not wasting paper on a letter informing her what she actually scored on the exam (for that, she had to go online).

We understand Emi Ha's eye-rolling reaction, but she should realize that, nowadays, people expect certificates for everything--even if they're meaningless. We train student-tutors at the college where we work. The tutor-training is actually a class--an easy-to-pass class, but a class nonetheless; in other words, students know that they've completed the class successfully when they see the "A" on their transcripts. Still, in order to attract students to the class, we named it "Peer-Tutoring Certification." And, upon completion of the class, students want their certificate. The fact that the certificate itself consists of a black-and-white piece of paper from our office printer is of little concern.

At least Emi Ha got a "swanky blue certificate holder." We congratulate her.

Friday, July 16, 2010

More Lethal than a Barrel of Monkeys


The other day, we casually opened our browser. As our homepage is Yahoo!, we find out immediately--via a quick glance at the "Trending Now" section--what has the blogosphere buzzing. The other day, the blogosphere buzzed about "Taliban Monkeys."

According to a report circulating in the Chinese news media, the Taliban--after exhausting the creative possibilities of suicide bombers and improvised explosive devices--have taken the next logical tactical step in their crusade against the forces of modernity: Gun-toting baboons. NATO officials and others have dismissed these reports as so much nonsense. According to Christopher Coe, a primatologist at the University of Wisonsin:

"To my eye at least, it is a baboon [in the Chinese news photo], which lives inAfrica. . . . The more common monkey that lives in that part of the world is a rhesus monkey. They live in India and can also be found in China. But this photo is not of a rhesus monkey."

Yeah, THAT's what makes this story unbelievable.

We almost wish it were true, though. If the Taliban turn to monkeys, then maybe NATO could follow suit. The United States could train grizzly bears to drive tanks and pigeons to drop bombs (by which we mean the explosive kind--not poop). All the soldiers could come home, and we could get on with our lives while our zoological proxies settled once and for all whose God was best.

(Image from about.com)

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Many Who Like "The Solipsist" Also Like David Foster Wallace


Or they should.

Despite the title. this is neither a review nor a critique of the late, great DFW. Rather, the title reflects the conclusions of SCIENCE!

Today, the Solipsist visited a website called “I Write Like.” We, of course, would have preferred a site named “We Write Like,” but perhaps we can chalk that up to our Foster-Wallachian stylistic affectations. On this site, one cuts and pastes selections of one’s prose into an algorithmic window, where it will undergo stylistic analysis. The program performs its tabulations and, before you can say “deconstructionism,” lets the visitor know which master stylist his writing most resembles--or whether he writes like Dan Brown. The Solipsist takes a certain pride in reporting that his style most resembles that of the aforementioned DFW.

Lest you dismiss this as a fluke, we point out that we had ten different Solipsistic musings analyzed. We got one Arthur C. Clarke--which surprised us, as (A) we haven’t read much of his work and (B) with all due respect to Mr. Clarke, we’ve never considered him a writer with a particularly notable “style.” We also got one Stephen King and one (fist-pump!) Kurt Vonnegut. Seven out of ten times, though, we received a David Foster Wallace.


It says something about influence: We’ve read Infinite Jest and a few of DFW’s essays, but we cannot claim to be a true student of his work. On the other hand, we are fluent in both Vonnegut and King, yet their influence seems considerably less pervasive. We suspect the algorithm draws its conclusions based on things like sentence-length and vocabulary: We note that the entry for which we received our Stephen King diagnosis was the shortest piece we submitted.


We thrill to the fact that we can call ourselves ten percent Vonnegut. We have read virtually everything the man ever wrote, and we could only wish to have more of his ability; the fact that we have achieved such a small portion of his mastery testifies, we think, to the excruciating difficulty of trying to craft Vonnegut-esque sentences: deceptively simple and near impossible to imitate.

As for David Foster Wallace, he employed a long, rambling, digressive style, and a sesquipedalian vocabulary. DFW might have employed a word like ‘Vonnegut-esque’; Kurt Vonnegut would not. As we said earlier, we have no complaints about being compared to David Foster Wallace--a slight concern with suicidal tendencies, but no complaints. We will, however, continue to strive for Vonnegut.


(Image of David Foster Wallace from Wikipedia; Image of Kurt Vonnegut from kurtvonnegut.com)

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Rocks Are People, Too


In the latest example of big-government, politically-correct overreach, the California state legislature stands poised to strip serpentine of its title as "official state rock." Now, we admit that, prior to reading this scandalous article, we had no idea that California had a state rock. Or that any state had a state rock. Or that "serpentine" was a rock. Ignorance was bliss, but we are ignorant no longer.

Los Angeles Democrat Gloria ("The Piledriver") Romero sponsored the bill to divest serpentine of its lofty perch atop the California rockpile at the request of an asbestos awareness group. Serpentine, you see, contains chrysotile, a form of asbestos. Big Anti-Asbestos cries foul at the idea of California giving its seal of approval to a cancerous rock. Meantime, Big Geology fears that a state-sponsored crusade against serpentine will lead to increased anti-rock violence and pogroms at quarries statewide: "Geologists, who have taken to Twitter on behalf of the rock, assert that serpentine is harmless and is being demonized by advocates for people with asbestos-related diseases and possibly their trial lawyers, too." Things are getting ugly. A recent Twitter post aimed at the bill's sponsor, warned: "Dear gloria romero, you have picked the wrong nerds to mess with!"


(Digression: The RIGHT nerds to mess with would be the youthful stars of "Glee," who might kick your ass, but would do so with precision dance moves and catchy background music. EOD)


Forgotten in all this are the true victims: the rocks. Has anyone asked the little serpentines how they feel? Since 1965, these perky pebbles have done nothing but serve as goodwill, albeit slightly carcinogenic, ambassadors to the US and, indeed, the world at large. We didn't hear Gloria Romero complain when a contingent of serpentine flew to Indonesia a few years back in the wake of the massive post-Christmas earthquake to offer their services in the rebuilding effort. And in terms of politics, does that Democrat recall the invaluable Get-Out-the-Vote campaign for Barack Obama spearheaded by the Orange County Serpentine Organization?


More importantly, California was the first state to adopt an official state pet rock. Even today, only 28 states have official state rocks (Vermont, for some reason, has three, which seems extreme even by rock-enthusiast standards). Does California really need to be more like Delaware than it already is?


(Image from Wikipedia)

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Damn Yankee

As a native New Yorker and inveterate Yankee-hater, we feel obligated to say something upon the passing today of George Steinbrenner, the longtime owner of the Bronx Bombers.

As any number of obituaries will surely note, Steinbrenner changed the game of baseball--and, indeed, the world of sports. From practically the moment he bought the Yankees--for the now-laughable amount of $10 million--he understood the role that money, and a willingness to spend it shamelessly, could play in the world of sports. Money was not simply a businessman's goal for Steinbrenner; salaries were not a necessary evil. Money was a weapon, and it has been ever since.

Say what you will about his greed and megalomania, the man was always in it to win. Somewhat admirable at a time when the Texas Rangers file for bankruptcy and teams left and right trade players because they can't afford them--well, admirable until you realize that it was the actions of Steinbrenner and his ilk who made top-notch talent unaffordable.

Ah well. Rest in Peace, Boss. We will miss you. After all, you were no small part of making it acceptable to hate the Yankees.

Monday, July 12, 2010

People Who Like "The Solipsist" Also Like Hedgehogs

One of the more charming--or patently annoying--features of Facebook is its recommendations. These appear on the right-hand side of one's homepage, or "wall." At first, these recommendations consisted of potential friends--presumably, friends of one's other Facebook friends, with whom one might possibly wish to initiate a friendship--or, more properly, a "friendship."

We've never actually taken one of these friendship recommendations. We figure anyone we want to befriend will actually BE a friend, and we choose to ignore Facebook's algorithmic matchmaking. Still we can understand how this feature might appeal to diehard social networkers who obsessively collect friends the way some people obsessively collect novelty salt shakers.

Subsequently, we began noticing recommendations for movie and TV and music pages: We received these notifications because of things that we had posted on our profiles. So, for example, because we had indicated that we enjoyed the movie "Goodfellas," we received an invitation to "like" "The Godfather": A picture of Vito Corleone, captioned with the information, "People who like 'Goodfellas' also like 'The Godfather.'" Well, duh! We don't know what sort of reward one would get for "liking" additional movies, but we suspect it would not be worth our time to find out.

The latest iteration of recommendations, though, focuses on those things we've indicated as "interests." Thus, we receive notifications like, "People who like reading" (like the Solipsist) "also enjoy walking." Now, (A), we find this recommendation questionable at best: We think people who like reading probably enjoy sitting rather more than walking. But, (2), we fear that Facebook is getting rather desperate for things with which to clutter one's wall: First, people; then, fansites; now, gerunds.

What's next? People who have birthdays also like breathing?

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Sunday Paper Recap

Today's top story informs us that Wall Street has roared back and that major firms have gone on something of a hiring spree. So, relax everyone: Manufacturing and construction continue to flag, state budget deficits necessitate slashes in all manner of public services from education to environmental protection to public safety, and even LeBron James had to accept a pay cut to relocate to South Florida--but the investment banks who brought you the great recession seem to be doing just fine.

Which may or may not come as consolation to politicians from both parties who voted for the Troubled Asset Relief Program (TARP) who now find themselves targeted for their largesse. Both Democratic and Republican congressional candidates are on the defensive as constituents express anger at their votes to bail out the banks. Interestingly, according to most economists, the TARP legislation did exactly what it was supposed to do: It stabilized the financial system. Furthermore, in the end, the government didn't have to spend all the money it has earmarked for the program, and the money that was disbursed has since been repaid with interest.

We had no great enthusiasm for the program. It seems, however, odd to punish politicians for taking a largely successful action, one which--since the money has been repaid--seems to have had no lasting ill effects. What troubles us is not that people are angry about the fact that fatcats received bailouts--that we can understand. We worry, though, when abstract anger is whipped into moblike frenzy. If you think the bailout was wrong on principle, then by all means, throw the bastards out--but make sure you do it for principle and not because the end result was bad. It seems like it wasn't.

How about a bailout for Haiti? Half a year has passed since a massive earthquake devastated Port-au-Prince, and just a small fraction of the displaced have settled into permanent housing. A line of tents has been erected on a highway median--to reach the latrines requires dodging through traffic. But remember: Goldman Sachs is doing OK.

On the lighter side of the news, we can look forward to the day when flesh and blood teachers will be obsolete. Researchers in the field of artificial intelligence are making great strides in the realm of education. The big breakthrough has come at UC San Diego, where a teacherbot named RUBI conducts Finnish lessons for elementary school children. We don't know why the programmers opted for Finnish as the language of choice--maybe because it has a lot of 'K' sounds, and K's are funny. Still, if you hear of any jobs that might be good for technologically-displaced writing instructors, keep us in mind.

Finally, we were pleased to read that black South Africans hold no grudges when it comes to soccer. Many of those formerly subject to apartheid were willing to put aside years of racism, repression, and violence in order to root for the Dutch national team in today's World Cup final. It seems that sports can build bridges that history may have torn down. It gives us hope that Cleveland and Miami may one day be able to coexist peacefully. We can dream, can't we?