I consider myself a fairly intelligent man. And, in keeping with the stereotypes of my Jewish faith, I am always on the lookout for a bargain. So it is with considerable chagrin that I confess to constantly feeling stymied whenever I need to purchase paper towels.
I'll be damned if I can figure out the best deal. I mean, I'm sure buying a single roll would be a bad idea--and, the way we go through paper towel at Solipsist Central, a virtual waste of time. When buying in bulk, though, I just can't do the math. Of course, I always look for generic brands first. But is a six-roll pack of "Jumbo" Bounty towels on sale for, say, $7.98, a better value than an 8-pack of "Large" no-name towels for $7.29? And now, the bastards have complicated things even further by introducing "adjustable" towels: So instead of automatically tearing off a "standard" size sheet every time you need to wipe up your grape juice, you can opt for a sheet one- or two-thirds the size! Is this a better value or worse? I suspect people conscientiously tear off a one-third piece, thinking that will be enough, only to discover that they actually need a full sheet--which they then tear off, thus using one and one-third sheets?!? Where does it end?
Yes, I know the trick lies in looking at the length of the roll, printed on the packaging, and then doing the multiplication to figure out how many total feet of paper-towel each package contains, but who has time for that? I'm an English teacher, for God's sake, not some Lawrence Livermore egghead!
Don't even get me started on toilet paper.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Friday, July 12, 2013
The Impala on the Edge of Forever
Have you seen this video:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/07/10/impala-jumps-in-car-escapes-cheetahs_n_3574345.html
An impala in Kruger National Park (South Africa) leaps into a car to escape a cheetah attack. Or, rather: AN IMPALA! IN KRUGER NATIONAL PARK (SOUTH AFRICA)! LEAPS INTO A CAR! TO ESCAPE A CHEETAH ATTACK!
Amazing, right? Thrilling! Yay, Impala!
And yet, all I can think is, "That impala was not meant to live! This is not going to end well. . . . We're going to need to develop time-travel technology to send someone back to set things right. In order to save the future, that impala must die!"
OK, I seriously need to stop watching so much "Star Trek."
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/07/10/impala-jumps-in-car-escapes-cheetahs_n_3574345.html
An impala in Kruger National Park (South Africa) leaps into a car to escape a cheetah attack. Or, rather: AN IMPALA! IN KRUGER NATIONAL PARK (SOUTH AFRICA)! LEAPS INTO A CAR! TO ESCAPE A CHEETAH ATTACK!
Amazing, right? Thrilling! Yay, Impala!
And yet, all I can think is, "That impala was not meant to live! This is not going to end well. . . . We're going to need to develop time-travel technology to send someone back to set things right. In order to save the future, that impala must die!"
OK, I seriously need to stop watching so much "Star Trek."
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Dubious Moments in Editing
I was struck, yesterday, by this sentence in an article about a rare genetic mutation that, by lowering "bad cholesterol" levels to virtual non-existence, provides major protection against heart disease:
"A $70 million, four-story factory in West Warwick, R.I., is like something out of Brobdingnag in 'Gulliver’s Travels,' a land populated by giants."
Colorful, certainly, but essentially just a fancy way of saying the factory is really, really big--disproportionately big, if you want to be more formal. I don't object to the writer Gina Kolata's attempt to enliven her article with an apt literary reference. It would have worked better, though, if Kolata had simply described the factory as "Brobdingnagian." Indeed, I'd like to think that's what she did in some earlier draft. The sentence as published smacks of editorial overcautiousness. After all, this is the Times we're talking about; the editors should have more faith in their audience's background knowledge.
"A $70 million, four-story factory in West Warwick, R.I., is like something out of Brobdingnag in 'Gulliver’s Travels,' a land populated by giants."
Colorful, certainly, but essentially just a fancy way of saying the factory is really, really big--disproportionately big, if you want to be more formal. I don't object to the writer Gina Kolata's attempt to enliven her article with an apt literary reference. It would have worked better, though, if Kolata had simply described the factory as "Brobdingnagian." Indeed, I'd like to think that's what she did in some earlier draft. The sentence as published smacks of editorial overcautiousness. After all, this is the Times we're talking about; the editors should have more faith in their audience's background knowledge.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Military Musings
When I read news reports about the Afghanistan war, I constantly see references to "the fighting season." Often, these references are to the impending end of the fighting season. No mention of the fighting playoffs or the World Series of fighting, but that's neither here nor there. I'm just wondering about all the implications for military strategy: I mean, I'm no Colin Powell--or even Colin Farrell--or even Will Farrell--where was I? Oh, yeah: I'm no brilliant military strategist, but, if our enemies at some point just say, "OK, we're done fighting for the year, see you in springtime," wouldn't that be a good time to attack?
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Advice to New Teachers: Never Underestimate the Motivational Power of Laziness
Today we began discussing "argumentation" in my writing class. I tried something different. It needs some fine-tuning, but overall I think it proved fairly effective in introducing the topic.
When I walked in, I told the class that, having looked at their work thus far this summer--and considering that we have only about two weeks left before the final exam--I had decided that they needed more practice with high-stakes, in-class writing. Tomorrow, therefore, I was going to give them an in-class essay exam that would count toward their final grade--unless they could convince me not to.
Well, all of a sudden, these students--who constantly protest that they cannot come up with any ideas when given a writing assignment--began barraging me with reasons why they shouldn't have to take an exam tomorrow: They already have too much work to do for my class, as well as any other classes they might be taking. They had just taken an essay exam, so there was no need to do another one. The class syllabus says nothing about the possibility of additional exams (the most compelling reason, actually). And besides, Mr. Solipsist, you don't really want to grade another set of essays, do you? (OK, that was the most compelling reason.) And not only did they have these reasons, they also had support for these reasons--logical, relevant support!
Need I say that there never was going to be an exam tomorrow? ('Cause I'll be damned if I was about to grade a whole 'nother set of essays!) I imagine that some of my more perceptive students, who knew we were going to discuss argumentation today, figured out that I was bluffing and merely wanted to demonstrate the uses of argument in everyday life. One thing I need to think about for the next time I try this is whether I actually should be prepared to give a test if the class's attempts at persuasion fall short. Nevertheless, today anyway, the whole class participated in a discussion, for a change, and with minimal prodding from me. If nothing else, I enjoyed seeing a real-life demonstration of the idea that writing is easy if you have something important--important to you--to say.
When I walked in, I told the class that, having looked at their work thus far this summer--and considering that we have only about two weeks left before the final exam--I had decided that they needed more practice with high-stakes, in-class writing. Tomorrow, therefore, I was going to give them an in-class essay exam that would count toward their final grade--unless they could convince me not to.
Well, all of a sudden, these students--who constantly protest that they cannot come up with any ideas when given a writing assignment--began barraging me with reasons why they shouldn't have to take an exam tomorrow: They already have too much work to do for my class, as well as any other classes they might be taking. They had just taken an essay exam, so there was no need to do another one. The class syllabus says nothing about the possibility of additional exams (the most compelling reason, actually). And besides, Mr. Solipsist, you don't really want to grade another set of essays, do you? (OK, that was the most compelling reason.) And not only did they have these reasons, they also had support for these reasons--logical, relevant support!
Need I say that there never was going to be an exam tomorrow? ('Cause I'll be damned if I was about to grade a whole 'nother set of essays!) I imagine that some of my more perceptive students, who knew we were going to discuss argumentation today, figured out that I was bluffing and merely wanted to demonstrate the uses of argument in everyday life. One thing I need to think about for the next time I try this is whether I actually should be prepared to give a test if the class's attempts at persuasion fall short. Nevertheless, today anyway, the whole class participated in a discussion, for a change, and with minimal prodding from me. If nothing else, I enjoyed seeing a real-life demonstration of the idea that writing is easy if you have something important--important to you--to say.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Send the Solipsist a Chuck E. Cheese Gift Card
When I go on Facebook and wish a friend--or even a "friend"--a "Happy Birthday," I don't particularly mind a message popping up encouraging me to "Send Lemuel [for example] a Starbuck's gift card." I don't actually send Lemuel such a gift, but I don't mind the reminder. After all, it's the thought that counts, so even if Facebook is forcing me to have the thought. . . well, you're welcome, Lemuel!
Lately, though, I've noticed definite "gift-encouragement creep." It started when I congratulated someone on his wedding. I was encouraged to send--let's say, Zoltan--an Amazon gift card. Well, OK--a wedding is an appropriate gift-giving occasion. But then I made a comment--not even a congratulations, as I recall--on someone's picture of his five-year-old graduating from kindergarten--AND I WAS EXHORTED TO "SEND ZIPPY A TGI FRIDAY'S GIFT CERTIFICATE"!
Now, come on, Folks! First of all, I'm not convinced that graduating from kindergarten is even a thing, much less an occasion for gift-giving or congratulations! When I graduated from kindergarten, the only "congratulations" I got was an extra scoop of macaroni and cheese and a day off from cleaning the scullery! (Oh, mine was a hard childhood!) Second of all, if anyone deserves a TGI Friday's gift certificate for graduating kindergarten, I would think it is Zippy's five-year-old, rather than Zippy himself!
Where will it end? Will we soon be encouraged to send Home Depot gift cards to anyone whose status we "Like"? Can we no longer engage in minimally effortful communications with our friends, acquaintances, and virtual stalkers without constant intrusions of the crassest commercial nature? Resist, I say! Save your gift-giving for those times when it is truly merited. . . like, when you read a truly entertaining blog post.
Lately, though, I've noticed definite "gift-encouragement creep." It started when I congratulated someone on his wedding. I was encouraged to send--let's say, Zoltan--an Amazon gift card. Well, OK--a wedding is an appropriate gift-giving occasion. But then I made a comment--not even a congratulations, as I recall--on someone's picture of his five-year-old graduating from kindergarten--AND I WAS EXHORTED TO "SEND ZIPPY A TGI FRIDAY'S GIFT CERTIFICATE"!
Now, come on, Folks! First of all, I'm not convinced that graduating from kindergarten is even a thing, much less an occasion for gift-giving or congratulations! When I graduated from kindergarten, the only "congratulations" I got was an extra scoop of macaroni and cheese and a day off from cleaning the scullery! (Oh, mine was a hard childhood!) Second of all, if anyone deserves a TGI Friday's gift certificate for graduating kindergarten, I would think it is Zippy's five-year-old, rather than Zippy himself!
Where will it end? Will we soon be encouraged to send Home Depot gift cards to anyone whose status we "Like"? Can we no longer engage in minimally effortful communications with our friends, acquaintances, and virtual stalkers without constant intrusions of the crassest commercial nature? Resist, I say! Save your gift-giving for those times when it is truly merited. . . like, when you read a truly entertaining blog post.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Mumble to Your Doctor
According to a commercial, "20 million men have talked to their doctors about Viagra."
Another 12 million men have sat awkwardly in their doctor's office, avoided eye-contact and--when asked by the doctor if there was "Anything else?'--cleared their throats and said, "Well, um, you know. . . ."
Another 12 million men have sat awkwardly in their doctor's office, avoided eye-contact and--when asked by the doctor if there was "Anything else?'--cleared their throats and said, "Well, um, you know. . . ."
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