Why Soccer Annoys Me

Did you know that arms and hands evolved much later than the rest of the human body?  Indeed, early humanoids used to wander the planet like so much ambulatory celery.  Many of the functions associated with arms and hands were originally handled by the appendix, which subsequently fell into disuse, good only for occasionally life-threatening inflammation.  Gradually, of course, those who suffered from strange mutations--originally known as "shoulder saggies"--became the dominant species, and arms became a regular part of human anatomy.  Did you know that?

Well, of course you didn't, because I just made it up!  But seriously it's the only logical explanation for the development of soccer as an internationally beloved sport.  Why use hands--with their capacity for precise manipulation of physical objects--to steer a ball at high speeds around opposing players, when one can rely on one's feet?  For that matter, why type with one's fingers when one could just as easily pound the keyboard with an oar?

I wonder if soccer players--when steering through a crowd of defenders or attempting to place a kick just out of the reach of a goalie--I wonder if they ever look down and think, "Wait!  What are these flapping fingery things hanging from my neck-shelf?!?  Holy Moses!  I have hands!  Oh, how I've wasted my life!"

God soccer is annoying.  Soccer is the Canada of sports!

Trend-shy

It's been a long week, and I'm exhausted.  And while looking for something to write about, I saw that the Yahoo! trends list currently features stories on stucco-eating giant snails devouring Florida (not that those ground-standing chad-danglers don't deserve it) and some sort of walking shark stalking the reefs of Indonesia--all of which leads me to believe I'd be better off just crawling into bed and staying there throughout this blessedly long weekend.

Drunk Is the New Bacon

Your typical History Channel documentary may present an in-depth expose of J. Edgar Hoover's ongoing attempts to smear Martin Luther King, Jr., or perhaps a more uplifting story of the earnest do-gooder who used the "Superman" radio serial to humiliate the Ku Klux Klan.  On Comedy Central's "Drunk History," you can see the exact same stories, re-enacted by performers--often quite famous actors--who are acting out the historical events as described by highly educated narrators--who also happen to be utterly, hopelessly drunk.

Today, on the website Dangerousminds.net, I watched "Star Drunk," a short science-fiction--"film" seems too strong a word, but what the heck--about. . . . Well, honestly, it doesn't matter what it's about.  "Star Drunk" arose from an evening get-together among a group of writers, who decided to explore the effects of extreme drunkenness on their creative process.  When they completed the screenplay, they decided to film it. . .using all drunk actors.

When did creative types decide that adding drunkenness to everything made it better?  Oh, certainly, artistic types have been hitting the sauce since the advent of art--or the advent of sauce, whichever came last.  But traditionally alcohol has been a behind-the-scenes handmaiden to artistic production, not a front-and-center component of the finished product (except perhaps in the oeuvre of Dudley Moore or some of your better-known Beats).  It's like drunkenness is the new bacon, a tasty condiment sprinkled liberally on any and everything to give it an added salty zing!

One can't help but wonder where this will end?  "Dancing with the Drunks"?  "Gordon Ramsay's Drunken Kitchen"?  "Drinking Game of Thrones"?  "Drunk Monday Night Football""?  (OK, I would totally watch that one.) And why stop at alcohol?  There are any number of ways to spice up standard television fare by adding an innovative degree of difficulty: "The Epileptic Housewives of Staten Island," anyone?

Advice to New Teachers: Please, If You're Good, Stick with It

I have been a teacher in one capacity or another--tutor, workshop leader, classroom instructor--for over twenty years now.  I have been a good teacher for maybe seven or eight years.  That's not false modesty--merely an honest assessment.  And I don't mean to give the impression that prior to, say, 2005 or so I posed a threat to the intellectual development of any students who had the misfortune to find themselves under my charge.  I do mean, however, that only after teaching for a good long time did I consider myself fully qualified to call myself a teacher; only then did I feel confident in my abilities to plan effective lessons and manage the day-to-day workings of a classroom environment.  Because, frankly, it takes some time to learn this stuff.

Now, charter schools have their share of supporters and detractors, but one sign of their questionable overall quality must surely be the fact--detailed in an article in The New York Times--that the average length of a charter-school teacher's tenure ranges from two to five years.  This means, as far as I'm concerned, that at the moment that a qualified (one hopes!) instructor is just beginning to grasp the ins and outs of the teaching profession--at that very moment, the teacher is preparing to move on.  What's even more disturbing is the fact that charter-school administrators tend to encourage such turnover:

“We have this highly motivated, highly driven work force who are now wondering, ‘O.K., I’ve got this, what’s the next thing?’ ” said Jennifer Hines, senior vice president of people and programs at YES Prep. “There is a certain comfort level that we have with people who are perhaps going to come into YES Prep and not stay forever.”

To begin with, Jennifer--and anyone else who shares her viewpoint--if your attitude towards "highly motivated" and "highly driven" teachers is that they are essentially replaceable, perhaps interchangeable parts, please do us all a favor and get out of the education business.  It is precisely such "highly driven" people you should be desperate to retain; it is just such people who should be teaching the next generation.  Moreover, when that two-year veteran teacher says to herself, "O.K., I've got this," the response should be, not to put too fine a point on it, "Bullshit!"

Of course, part of the reason a highly-motivated teacher may flee a charter school for the "next thing" after two brief years is the very nature of charter schools, which more often than not stress rote memorization over creativity:

Novice teachers receive constant feedback from principals and other campus administrators. . . .       

Observing two first-year math teachers, [Ms. Singleton, an administrator] noticed that both were reviewing place values with sixth graders. . . .And when one teacher exhorted her students to give themselves a celebratory chant, Ms. Singleton corrected the teacher’s instructions. 'I have to interrupt,' Ms. Singleton said. 'It’s two claps and then a sizzle.'

I have no idea what that even means, and I'm insulted on behalf of the teacher! 

People lament the state of public education, but the only true way to improve education is to improve teaching.  We can all debate what will or will not strengthen classroom teaching, but it's just common sense to note that de-professionalizing the profession--sending the message that teaching is not a career to aspire to but a temporary way-station en route to "the next thing"--will not improve anything.

VMA TMI

In 2009, when nice little Miley Cyrus posed all come-hitherly on the cover of Vanity Fair, everyone was outraged.

Where will this end, they wondered?  Well, I guess we know now:

Still, what's most offensive about this whole thing is that Miley took something pure and beautiful-- the MTV Video Music Awards--and made it tawdry.  I, for one, am highly disappointed in Miley! I may never masturbate to "Hannah Montana" again!

Just Another Day at Solipsist Central: MST3K Edition

(To begin your Solipsist dual-screen viewing experience, go to Netflix and start streaming "The Immortals."  Alternatively, you could just stream the first couple of episodes of "Breaking Bad"; you'll be much happier.)

"What are you watching?"

"Something called 'The Immortals.'  It actually looks kind of cheesy."

"I think I've heard of that.  I'm pretty sure it's about Theseus."

"Our cat?"

"Yes, Hollywood made a movie about our cat. . . . No, the other Theseus. . . The Greek hero guy.  The one with the maze and the Minotaur and the heel. . . ."

"I thought that was Achilles."

"We don't have a cat named Achilles."

"Right.  Hey, why don't we have a cat named Achilles."

"An obvious oversight."

***********************************

"Why is Mickey Rourke pouring water all over that priest?"

"It demonstrates that he has contempt for the religion of these people that he and his warriors are subjugating.  He's. . .  Hey, what's he doing with that torch. . . . Oh, wait!  That wasn't water!  It was OIL!  Hey, he's totally burning that priest!  Oh, he's a bad, bad man!"

"I hate Mickey Rourke!"

***********************************

"Who the hell is that?"

"That's Zeus."

"What is he wearing?"

"I. . .  don't know."

"He looks like a refugee from Studio 54."

"Yeah."

"Wait, are those all gods?"

"Yeah."

"They all look like drag-queen refugees from Studio 54!  What's with the shiny gold underwear and sword-hats?"

"I don't know."

"Golden gay gods. . . "

"Golden gay gods of Greece."

"Great golden gay gods of Greece.  OK, your turn."

"Uh.. . .Glorious great golden gay gods of Greece!"

". . . Gloriously gregarious great golden gay gods of Greece!  Ha!"

"OK. . . OK. . .  Glamorously glorious gregarious great gay gods of Greece. . . . Did I get it?"

"You left out 'golden.'"

"Damn!  I lost!"

"WORD JENGA!"

********************************

"So, is this the Labyrinth?"

"No. . . I don't think so. . . "

"Is that the Minotaur?"

"No.  I mean, it can't be.  It's just some guy in a barbed-wire bull helmet."

(An epic battle seen ensues.)

"I think that was the Minotaur!"

"What kind of nonsense is that?!?  That's not the Minotaur!  I call 'Bullshit'!"

"Seriously!"

"That's not how the real Minotaur was."

"The 'real Minotaur'?"

"You know what I mean."

"And you call that a Labyrinth?  That's a shadow box in a dollhouse."

"They don't make Greek mythology epics like they used to."

***************************************

"What is that awful noise?"

"I think Zeus is getting killed by the Titans."

"OK. . . So what is that awful noise?"

"That's just what it sounds like when gods die."

"This is what it sounds like.  When gods die."

"Yeah."

"Do-do-do-DO. Do-do-do-DO."

"Um. . . "

"AI!  AI!  AIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!"

"What are you doing?!?"

"I thought we were singing."

"We're not singing!"

"Buzzkill."