Saturday, August 24, 2013
Great Moments in Writing Instruction
"A sentence is. . . . A sentence is like a. . like something you ride--like a horse! It can take you anywhere you want to go, but you need to control it. . . and so your punctuation marks are like the, the, the reins that you use. . . to control the, uh, the horse--the sentence. . . so that it doesn't get away from you. . . like this one just got away from me."
Friday, August 23, 2013
Lack of Afflecktion
No sooner is Ben Affleck announced as the next Batman than the internet goes berserk. From the amount of vitriol, one would think a moratorium on panda videos had been announced. All I can think is, Am I missing something? Wherefore all this misplaced rage? What, exactly, did Ben Affleck ever do to the interwebs?
The last time we saw Ben Affleck, he was accepting an Academy Award for Best Picture on behalf of the production crew of "Argo." But for a blatant snub, he most likely would have accepted the award for Best Director about ten minutes before that.
I will grant you that Affleck is probably a better director than actor, but still, he acquitted himself perfectly well in "Argo"--and in several other movies besides. I had no problem with his performances in "Chasing Amy" or "Good Will Hunting" or "The Town"--even if he was not the main "draw" of any of those films--and see no reason why he won't be a perfectly acceptable Batman.
As far as these things go, Affleck is hardly the most surprising casting choice ever made to play the Caped Crusader. That honor goes to Michael Keaton--and that worked out pretty well.
Think about it: To play this part, Affleck will basically have to pull off "charming" as Bruce Wayne and "intense" as Batman. He can do that.
Will he be as good as Christian Bale? Maybe, maybe not, but that's really the wrong question: I have little doubt that the movie--which seems at this point primarily to be a Superman movie anyway--will be inferior to Christopher Nolan's recently completed trilogy--if only because director Zack Snyder has shown no signs of being able to make movies of the same quality as Nolan's.
Because here's the real point: In the history of superhero movies, some have been great, some have been good, and many have been bad, but the quality has almost nothing to do with the acting abilities of whoever is cast as the hero. Christopher Reeve was a terrific Superman, but the four Superman movies he starred in were of vastly differing quality: The first two were highly entertaining, the third and fourth are basically unwatchable. George Clooney is a universally acclaimed actor--an Academy Award winner, for Pete's sake!--but his turn as Batman is best remembered for nipples-on-the-breastplate.
I would go so far as to say that the number of actors who have played superheroes--and who have made a significant contribution to the quality of the films because of their portrayal--is exactly one: Robert Downey, Jr., as Tony Stark/Iron Man. The movies might have been OK without Robert Downey, and another actor could have done an acceptable job as Marvel Comic's own answer to Bruce Wayne, but Robert Downey's effortless incarnation of Tony Stark--with all of his arrogance, wit, charm, and, ultimately, darkness--elevated a series of popcorn movies into the realm of art.
For the most part, superhero movies are action-packed spectacles, dependent upon the vision of the director and the talents of the technical crew for whatever quality they possess. If Zack Snyder succeeds in making a crowd-pleasing extravaganza--as I suspect he will--Ben Affleck will be noted, appropriately, as just one more well-utilized prop.
The last time we saw Ben Affleck, he was accepting an Academy Award for Best Picture on behalf of the production crew of "Argo." But for a blatant snub, he most likely would have accepted the award for Best Director about ten minutes before that.
I will grant you that Affleck is probably a better director than actor, but still, he acquitted himself perfectly well in "Argo"--and in several other movies besides. I had no problem with his performances in "Chasing Amy" or "Good Will Hunting" or "The Town"--even if he was not the main "draw" of any of those films--and see no reason why he won't be a perfectly acceptable Batman.
As far as these things go, Affleck is hardly the most surprising casting choice ever made to play the Caped Crusader. That honor goes to Michael Keaton--and that worked out pretty well.
Think about it: To play this part, Affleck will basically have to pull off "charming" as Bruce Wayne and "intense" as Batman. He can do that.
Will he be as good as Christian Bale? Maybe, maybe not, but that's really the wrong question: I have little doubt that the movie--which seems at this point primarily to be a Superman movie anyway--will be inferior to Christopher Nolan's recently completed trilogy--if only because director Zack Snyder has shown no signs of being able to make movies of the same quality as Nolan's.
Because here's the real point: In the history of superhero movies, some have been great, some have been good, and many have been bad, but the quality has almost nothing to do with the acting abilities of whoever is cast as the hero. Christopher Reeve was a terrific Superman, but the four Superman movies he starred in were of vastly differing quality: The first two were highly entertaining, the third and fourth are basically unwatchable. George Clooney is a universally acclaimed actor--an Academy Award winner, for Pete's sake!--but his turn as Batman is best remembered for nipples-on-the-breastplate.
I would go so far as to say that the number of actors who have played superheroes--and who have made a significant contribution to the quality of the films because of their portrayal--is exactly one: Robert Downey, Jr., as Tony Stark/Iron Man. The movies might have been OK without Robert Downey, and another actor could have done an acceptable job as Marvel Comic's own answer to Bruce Wayne, but Robert Downey's effortless incarnation of Tony Stark--with all of his arrogance, wit, charm, and, ultimately, darkness--elevated a series of popcorn movies into the realm of art.
For the most part, superhero movies are action-packed spectacles, dependent upon the vision of the director and the talents of the technical crew for whatever quality they possess. If Zack Snyder succeeds in making a crowd-pleasing extravaganza--as I suspect he will--Ben Affleck will be noted, appropriately, as just one more well-utilized prop.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Indoctrination Day
The other day in my e-mail at work, I found the following message, forwarded by my dean from the vice-president's office:
Pursuant to legislation passed in 2005, any educational institution receiving Federal funds is required to provide educational programs pertaining to the United States Constitution on September 17th each year. This year Constitution Day falls on a Tuesday. By way of this email, I am asking you to follow-up with your areas to see how faculty and staff can incorporate this observance into their classes or student programs. Afterwards, we will need to collect information about the different activities and have this documentation available in case of an audit. . . . . I look forward to hearing the creative ways we can help students learn more about our Constitution and government.
Please keep this in mind as you prepare your classes.
My first reaction: "Are. You. Kidding. Me?"--except for "kidding," substitute a scatological verb modified by a vulgar sexual adverb--to which the dean replied, "Expected response. Please direct your inquiries to the vice-president's office."
Don't get me wrong: I am a huge fan of 18th-century governmental charters. And as these things go, the United States Constitution is quite the page-turner, especially compared with such snoozefests as the Swiss Regulations for the Sovereign Council (1790). But is there not something ironic in this governmental diktat requiring the teaching of the Constitution on September 17? Suggested slogan: "Celebrate Our Right to Freedom of Speech by Surrendering Your Own!"
Don't get me wrong: I am a huge fan of 18th-century governmental charters. And as these things go, the United States Constitution is quite the page-turner, especially compared with such snoozefests as the Swiss Regulations for the Sovereign Council (1790). But is there not something ironic in this governmental diktat requiring the teaching of the Constitution on September 17? Suggested slogan: "Celebrate Our Right to Freedom of Speech by Surrendering Your Own!"
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Advice to New Teachers: Howzabout You Just TEACH Them?
My first quasi-teaching job was tutoring in the Hunter College Writing Center. We would work with students of all skill levels, but a majority of our clientele consisted of students in "developmental classes"--what, in a less enlightened era, would have been called remedial English. Frequently, we tutors would lament the dearth of skill among our tutees, bemoaning the quality--or lack thereof--of K-12 education in New York City that had brought us to this desperate pass. Invariably, though, when our supervisor--a transplanted Chicagoan by the name of Dennis Paoli--heard us kvetching about, say, our students' inability to write at even the most rudimentary levels, he would harangue us in an eminently imitatable adenoidal tone, "Well, then, why don't you all just teach them?!?"
A fair point. It was, after all, what we were ostensibly there for.
At the beginning of every semester, I am reminded of Dennis's advice. Sadly, though, the people I now hear complaining about their students' shortcomings are not exclusively student tutors--who are, after all, in a sort of apprenticeship position and thus may be forgiven their judgmentalism--but often full-fledged writing instructors. I cannot tell you how often I have heard professors complain about a student's inability to compose clear thesis statements or another's tendency to write run-on sentences. And when I hear these complaints, I hear Dennis's voice clanging around my skull, "Well, why don't you just teach them?!?"
To be sure, some students are seriously misplaced, registered in a college-level composition course when an assessment reveals that they truly belong in a class two levels below. But this is rare: maybe two students out of a class of thirty (and there may just as likely be two students who truly belong in a higher level class). The vast majority of the class--the middle of the bell curve--consists of students quite appropriately enrolled. Sure, some will struggle, and some will breeze, but all will get something from the instruction, provided the instructor approaches the class with the proper mindset.
When I hear teachers complain on Day One that a number of their students "can't write"--often based on nothing more than a quick diagnostic exam that a majority of students choose not to take seriously anyway--I always wonder what, exactly, these teachers were expecting. It would be lovely to have a class filled with Ernest Hemingways or Kurt Vonneguts, but those guys don't need to take basic writing classes. And besides, they're dead! Far better to work with the live students you have in front of you, even if they do occasionally misplace a modifier.
A fair point. It was, after all, what we were ostensibly there for.
At the beginning of every semester, I am reminded of Dennis's advice. Sadly, though, the people I now hear complaining about their students' shortcomings are not exclusively student tutors--who are, after all, in a sort of apprenticeship position and thus may be forgiven their judgmentalism--but often full-fledged writing instructors. I cannot tell you how often I have heard professors complain about a student's inability to compose clear thesis statements or another's tendency to write run-on sentences. And when I hear these complaints, I hear Dennis's voice clanging around my skull, "Well, why don't you just teach them?!?"
To be sure, some students are seriously misplaced, registered in a college-level composition course when an assessment reveals that they truly belong in a class two levels below. But this is rare: maybe two students out of a class of thirty (and there may just as likely be two students who truly belong in a higher level class). The vast majority of the class--the middle of the bell curve--consists of students quite appropriately enrolled. Sure, some will struggle, and some will breeze, but all will get something from the instruction, provided the instructor approaches the class with the proper mindset.
When I hear teachers complain on Day One that a number of their students "can't write"--often based on nothing more than a quick diagnostic exam that a majority of students choose not to take seriously anyway--I always wonder what, exactly, these teachers were expecting. It would be lovely to have a class filled with Ernest Hemingways or Kurt Vonneguts, but those guys don't need to take basic writing classes. And besides, they're dead! Far better to work with the live students you have in front of you, even if they do occasionally misplace a modifier.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Day Off
A bit swamped today, but I should have something interesting for tomorrow.
DISCLAIMER: "Interesting" is a highly subjective term.
DISCLAIMER: "Interesting" is a highly subjective term.
Monday, August 19, 2013
Long Day
As faithful readers of this blog know, I live in the San Francisco Bay Area. I have a "FasTrak" toll tag in my car--one of those little boxes you stick on your windshield, enabling you to zip through toll lanes at bridges and tunnels. The toll tag is linked to a bank account, so I get e-mail updates whenever the balance on the toll tag is replenished, historically twenty-five dollars at a time. Today, however, I received a notice that, based on my patterns of usage, FasTrak was now going to debit eighty dollars at a time from my account when my available balance drops below some predetermined level.
Annoying? Sort of. In the long run, though, this makes little difference: After all, this just means that, instead of being charged $25 every five days or so, I'll be charged eighty dollars roughly every two to three weeks. What was disturbing, though, was that I saw an e-mail from my BANK before I saw the e-mail from the folks at FasTrak, which meant I was taken aback by the new debiting scheme. More disturbing was the fact that there was a typo in this notice. So, instead of seeing a charge to "FasTrak Oakland"--as I've come to expect--I saw eighty dollars going to "FasTrak Orkland." Whether this meant money was going to a Tolkien-esque Wonderland or to Mork's old home planet, I knew not. Either way, I thought this boded ill.
And the day got progressively worse from there.
Annoying? Sort of. In the long run, though, this makes little difference: After all, this just means that, instead of being charged $25 every five days or so, I'll be charged eighty dollars roughly every two to three weeks. What was disturbing, though, was that I saw an e-mail from my BANK before I saw the e-mail from the folks at FasTrak, which meant I was taken aback by the new debiting scheme. More disturbing was the fact that there was a typo in this notice. So, instead of seeing a charge to "FasTrak Oakland"--as I've come to expect--I saw eighty dollars going to "FasTrak Orkland." Whether this meant money was going to a Tolkien-esque Wonderland or to Mork's old home planet, I knew not. Either way, I thought this boded ill.
And the day got progressively worse from there.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Blowing Smoke
Sometimes I read the paper and get the feeling that I'm supposed to be outraged or indignant, and yet I just can't get myself all worked up. So it was today upon reading a front-page article about how cigar manufacturers entice the young and impressionable (i.e., the stupid) by peddling tobacco products in a variety of flavors that would make Bertie Botts proud (just google it). Grape cigars! Cherry cigars! Chocolate cigars! If my stepfather--a true cigar aficionado--were alive today, he'd be rolling over in his grave at such sacrilege--or at the very least yuckiness.
The point of the article, though, was that cigar manufacturers were finding ways to sidestep federal laws against marketing tobacco products to minors by selling Wonka-esque cigarillos, which are not subject to congressional regulation. The FDA has discretion to regulate such products, and the agency has promised to introduce new rules, but as yet no such rules have been promulgated. And frankly, I just don't care.
As a lifelong non-smoker, I have no love for the tobacco industry. I would certainly discourage people from smoking. At the same time, I just think the government has more important things to do than pass ever more laws protecting people from their own self-destructive behaviors. By this time, everybody knows smoking will kill you. If people choose to do it anyway, isn't that their business? Why does the government need to get involved?
Laws against smoking in public places make sense: They protect the innocent bystander from the toxic effects of other people's personal behavior. But it seems to me at best hypocritical for the government to say, on the one hand, that a product is perfectly legal, but, on the other hand, that the makers of this product cannot attempt to sell it to the broadest clientele possible. And after all, if you own a business, and the product you sell reliably kills a large portion of your customers, then you need to do all the marketing you can. That's just the American way!
The point of the article, though, was that cigar manufacturers were finding ways to sidestep federal laws against marketing tobacco products to minors by selling Wonka-esque cigarillos, which are not subject to congressional regulation. The FDA has discretion to regulate such products, and the agency has promised to introduce new rules, but as yet no such rules have been promulgated. And frankly, I just don't care.
As a lifelong non-smoker, I have no love for the tobacco industry. I would certainly discourage people from smoking. At the same time, I just think the government has more important things to do than pass ever more laws protecting people from their own self-destructive behaviors. By this time, everybody knows smoking will kill you. If people choose to do it anyway, isn't that their business? Why does the government need to get involved?
Laws against smoking in public places make sense: They protect the innocent bystander from the toxic effects of other people's personal behavior. But it seems to me at best hypocritical for the government to say, on the one hand, that a product is perfectly legal, but, on the other hand, that the makers of this product cannot attempt to sell it to the broadest clientele possible. And after all, if you own a business, and the product you sell reliably kills a large portion of your customers, then you need to do all the marketing you can. That's just the American way!
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