And Then There's Tom Petty. . .

As Martin Mull might have said, "Writing about music is like dancing about architecture."  Despite an overabundance of music criticism, music itself remains stubbornly impervious to prosaic interpretation--like nine-year-old-resisting-bedtime stubborn.  One can read about literature or movies or plays and experience some semblance of the emotional response generated by the work under discussion.  Many times I (and I suspect you, too) have read a plot summary or other critical report and thought, "Man, that sounds awesome!  I need to read/see THAT!"  But music?  Descriptions of instrumentation and comparisons to other pieces of music get you only so far.  Music has to be experienced in order to be. . .well, experienced.

Fear not, though, Sloppists. I have devised a handy-dandy ranking scale to help you when trying to decide whether a piece of music or a particular performer is worth your time and effort.  No longer do you need to feel inadequate about your paltry knowledge of music theory, your limited musical vocabulary, your inability to distinguish a tenor sax from a set of bongos (although that last one is really pathetic and you should do something about it).  Because to make your life easier, all you really need to do is place each piece of music into one of the following four categories:

THE INFALLIBLES.  These are those whose every product is pure gold--or at least worth your lunch money.  They come out with something new?  You buy it.  And you can feel fairly confident that you won't be disappointed.  These are your Springsteens, your U2s, your Elvis Costellos.  You love them! (Either that, or you're wrong.  Sorry, that's just how it works.)  Other personal Infallibles--if you're looking for a last-minute Christmas gift for your favorite blogger (just sayin')--include Radiohead, Aimee Mann, Bright Eyes.  Go get 'em.

THE GREATEST HITS CLUB. You hear these folks on the radio all the time, and you like pretty much everything you hear, but you don't particularly feel like you need to hear more.  In other words, get yourself a "Greatest Hits" collection or two, and you'll probably have about everything you need.  A number of classic rock bands fall neatly into this category: The Stones, Led Zeppelin, The Who.  (In case you're wondering, The Beatles are closer to Infallible.)  Great bands all, to be sure, but does anyone really need to hear the B-side of "Honky-Tonk Women"?  What?  "You Can't Always Get What You Want"?  Seriously?!?  OK, bad example, but you get the point.

THE FREE CONCERT TICKET ARMY.  OK, you don't really care one way or the other about these bands.  They're fine.  They play well, sound good.  They probably even have one or two songs that you find yourself bopping along to on your morning drive.  But while you're more than willing to download those one or two earworms to your iTunes, you wouldn't bother with a whole album.  Still, if somebody came up to you and said, "Hey, Solipsist, I have an extra ticket to a ___________ concert, you wanna go?," you would--after explaining that you are NOT the Solipsist, no matter how great the resemblance--say, "Sure, why not.  Beats organizing my sock drawer."  These include a lot of current bands (who, admittedly, might graduate to the Greatest Hits Club over time): The Black Keys, for one, being a good example.  I would put Los Lobos in this category, too, but God only knows what trouble that would get me into.

And then, finally, there are THE UNLISTENABLES.  This category includes Tom Petty.  That is all.

Sony Avenged

Earlier this morning--so early, in fact, that you were no doubt sleeping--President Obama released the following statement:

"My fellow Americans, I recently vowed that the United States would 'respond proportionally' to the North Korean cyberattack against Sony.  This heinous attack deprived the American public its opportunity to see the Seth Rogen-James Frisco [sic] comedy 'The Interview.'

"This blatant cultural aggression will not stand.

"Some have called for a military response.  I have decided, however, that this would be disproportionate.  Besides, all our military assets are otherwise deployed around Iraq, Afghanistan, and Belgium.  (You'll be hearing about that at a press conference later this afternoon.)  And so I am mandating a gentler--yet no less devastating--response.

"I call upon all American filmmakers to include the assassination of North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un in all movies from this point forward.  And not only that.  I have directed all major studios to go into their archives and, through the magic of digital technology, add the assassination of Kim Jong-un to all previously released films.

"The Nakatomi Tower hijackers in 'Die Hard'? They're North Korean now, led by Korean Alan Rickman as Kim Jong-un.

"Oz the Great and Powerful?  Try Kim the Squat and Infantile--and, yes, he dies now.

"All the raptors in 'Jurassic Park' will soon be computer-generated mini-Kim Jong-uns.  It's actually really cool.

"So in conclusion, my fellow Americans, I encourage you to go out this holiday season and take in a movie or two.  Enjoy some popcorn and a cornucopia of cinematic assassinations of North Korea's premier. Just don't go see the new 'Annie'--it's terrible.

"Thank you. And God bless America."

Sony Evil

To be clear, I had neither plans nor, indeed, desire to see "The Interview."  If the advertising is any indication, the movie--a comedy about a plot to assassinate North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un--is an unmitigated piece of crap.  Still, the decision by Sony Studios to abandon plans for a Christmas Day release, in response to threats of violence and/or continued cyberattacks on the corporation, is disappointing to say the least.

In Sony's defense, I'm not sure they had much choice.  Earlier in the week, the largest theater chains in the country had already announced their plans to pull the film.  Still, what kind of precedent has been set?  A few hardcore lunatics depriving the world of two hours of dick jokes from Seth Rogen and James Franco may not seem like that great a tragedy, but what happens when a controversial film with actual artistic merit becomes the target?  If the internet had been around when "The Last Temptation of Christ" was released, would a band of tech-savvy Christian fundamentalists have succeeded in shutting down that film?  Assuming there is such a thing as a tech-savvy Christian fundamentalist.  Maybe that's a bad example.  But you get the point.

If the studio has truly given up on the thought of releasing the film in theaters, I have a modest proposal: Sony should post the whole thing on YouTube right now.  Why not?  They've already lost any money they sank into producing the movie, and hackers have already damaged the company tremendously with their steady release of embarrassing Sony documents.  What have they got to lose?  More importantly, by posting the movie online, Sony will thwart the terrorists who sought to stop the film's release, all while allowing people to see the movie in the comfort and safety of their own homes.  The film would find an exponentially greater audience than it could ever have found in the theaters.  Hell, I might even watch it, if only out of spite.

C'mon, Sony: Korea subjected us to "Gangnam Style"; let's show these hackers that payback's a bitch.

Here's to Your Health: So Much for Bipartisanship

The Supreme Court has agreed to hear yet another challenge to the Affordable Care Act.  I'm sure the fact the Supremes agreed to hear this case a mere three days after an election that will return the Senate to Republican control is the purest of coincidence.  The fact that this time, if the justices rule against the ACA, there will be not the slightest shred of a chance that Congress will agree to tweak the legislation to conform to any judicial ruling has, I'm sure, nothing whatsoever to do with their decision to hear the case.  That would indicate crass political calculation, well below the dignity of such an august body of judges.

Bastards.

In case you're interested, at issue as far as I can tell are the semantics of the word "state."  A group of highly indignant folks has taken umbrage with the federal government for providing subsidies to people who cannot afford insurance, when those people live in states that have refused to set up state-run health insurance exchanges.  The dispute revolves around language in the ACA that restricts federal subsidies to those participating in "an exchange established by the state."  The IRS has issued regulations codifying the idea that people may receive subsidies for participating in a health insurance exchange whether that exchange is run by a state or by the federal government, which is running its own exchanges--for the admittedly nefarious purpose of providing health insurance to those whose state governors are only trying to protect them from. . . having health insurance.

One group of federal appeals judges have declared the language in the original legislation ambiguous, and have consequently ruled that the IRS made a reasonable interpretation in establishing its regulations.  Another appeals court has "reluctantly" determined that the law as written does, in fact, forbid the federal government from providing subsidies.  As a liberal, I want to agree with the former, but as a writer, I fear that the second court might actually be correct--or at least is not clearly wrong.  And the larger point is that, while the ambiguity of the phrasing does, in fact, probably give the IRS the right to do what it did, I fear that this same ambiguity will provide the conservative majority on the Supreme Court the political cover it will need to achieve its presumed desire of destroying the Affordable Care Act.  Not that the Court takes into account such crass political calculations.

What everyone should bear in mind is that this law has so far provided millions of people the ability to receive healthcare to which they previously had no access.  Presumably, people are alive today--or at any rate healthier today--because of this legislation.  And for all the talk of gloom and doom and apocalyptic rises in the cost of coverage, nobody seems to be suffering much as a result of the ACA.  Make no mistake, this lawsuit is nothing but the latest mean-spirited attempt to gut a piece of legislation that has as its goal nothing more than to help people, largely out of spite and continued irrational hatred of the man who championed the legislation in the first place.  I just hope the millions of people who lose their coverage if/when the Supreme Court and their Republican enablers have their way will remember this in the next election.

Of course, the GOP will find a way to blame Obama for that, too.

Feud for Thought

The venerable game show "Family Feud" has aired more or less continuously since the late Victorian era and gone through more hosts than the Ebola virus (too soon?).  However, it is my sad duty to report that the show is officially out of ideas.  The Solipsist has come into possession of a trove of notes from the program's writing staff, and a brief survey reveals how far the show has fallen since its glory days.  Or day.  Just take a look at these survey questions:

"Name a letter of the alphabet."

"Name the average age at which an amateur golfer gets a knee replacement?"

"Name a people-food that my dog just loves."

Those were actually among the more "normal" examples.  Others included, "Name a number between one and five"--which, curiously, had seven answers--and "Name a place where you wouldn't expect to find scissors" (answers included, "A blender," "A bowl of lime sherbet," and "Galveston").

"Name a pre-Raphaelite painter."

"Name an article of clothing you wouldn't find cute if it were worn by a turtle."

"Name a flavor of mint chocolate chip ice cream."

"Name a means of poisoning someone that is undetectable when served in an omelet."

This last question drew the attention of the local authorities, and the writing staff has been temporarily suspended while the investigation continues.

Supreme Court Round-Up

OK, OK. . . Elena Kagan's been on my ass for the last three hours, desperate to hear the Solipsist's take on the latest round of Supreme Court rulings.  OK, Associate Justice Kagan, here we go.

First, the case the Court got unambiguously right: Riley v. California.  In this and an associated case, United States v. Wurie, the Court held that law enforcement authorities needed to obtain a warrant before searching through someone's cell phone.  Police often looked through cell phones after arresting someone, searching for evidence of criminal activity--which, given today's smartphone technology, could include not only call histories but also photographs, internet searches, journal entries--even, dare we say it, blog posts.  Chief Justice John Roberts explained that the pervasiveness of cell phones (and, by extension, in all likelihood, tablets, personal computers, etc.) made them subject to the same protections against "general warrants" enshrined in the Constitution.  In other words, police may no more freely rummage through one's personal data contained on an iPhone than they could barge into one's bedroom and rifle through the underwear drawer, unless they first obtain a warrant.

More interesting than the verdict, however, was the acknowledgment by the Court that changing technological standards merited changing interpretations of constitutional actions.  Law enforcement officials, for example, equated searching a cellphone with other, more permissible searches of things like wallets or purses.  "That," wrote Chief Justice Roberts, "is like saying a ride on horseback is materially indistinguishable from a flight to the moon."  In other words, as technology changes we must revisit the actions of the Founding Fathers, who codified civic norms in a time vastly different from our own.  Just as a cell phone is vastly different from a wallet or an appointment book--and so calls for a different understanding of constitutional protections against unreasonable searches--so, too, is an AK-47 vastly different from a flintlock--and calls for a similar reassessment of the right to keep and bear arms.

Two other unanimous decisions were also decided correctly.  I say this begrudgingly, as I am totally sympathetic to the "losing" side in both cases.  First, in National Labor Relations Board v. Noel Canning, the Court basically said that President Obama had no right to make recess appointments to Executive Branch positions while the US Senate was "in session"--even though these "sessions" were merely pro forma meetings where no business was conducted--and, indeed, whose only purpose was to ensure that President Obama could not make recess appointments.  While I abhor the obstructionist tactics of Congressional Republicans, I recognize that a certain amount of political gamesmanship is a fact of American life.  And while I generally support President Obama--at least as far as his political appointments go--I am not keen to see any congressional tactic hurriedly eliminated, lest it be useful in the future when, say, someone like Ted Cruz occupies the Oval Office.

I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.

(And lest you accuse me of hypocrisy, I had similar qualms when the Democratic Senate leadership effectively eliminated the use of filibusters last year.)

The other correct if unsatisfying decision concerned the ability of legislatures to establish "buffer zones" around abortion clinics.  The aim is laudable: to protect women who seek abortions (or, indeed, any services from clinics such as those run by Planned Parenthood) from harassment by pro-life protesters, legislators have declared that protesters must maintain certain minimum distances from entrances to such facilities.  In its decision in McCullen v. Coakley, the Court declared unconstitutional a Massachusetts law, which created a 35-foot buffer zone around abortion clinics.  The law, the justices found, infringed on First Amendment rights to free speech.  And while I sympathize with the desire of women not to be accosted by right-wing zealots as they seek to exercise their right to control their own bodies, I think that placing arbitrary (35 feet?  Why not 30?  Why not 40?  Why not 6.5?) restrictions on speech is not the solution.  As the Court pointed out, existing laws that prevent harassment and other antisocial behavior can effectively serve the same purpose as the disputed law.

Finally, the case that I just don't understand: ABC v. Aereo.  The Court declared that what Aereo was doing was bad and wrong and must be stopped.  Now, I had never heard of Aereo before yesterday.  Apparently, it's a service that allows people to "pick up" the broadcast signals of the major television networks through a series of antennas.  The networks were upset that Aereo was allowing people to do this.  But unless I'm mistaken, this is how television always used to work!  You turned on the TV, you fiddled with your antennas as needed, and you were able to watch "The Incredible Hulk" at grandma's house.  When did this become illegal?

Anyway, Justice Kagan, there you have it.  On the whole, you guys did a good--if somewhat unsatisfying--job.  Now, if you'll excuse me, "Judge Judy" is on, and I need to fiddle with the ol' rabbit ears. . . .

Absolutely!

"Daniel Stein, president of the Federation for American Immigration Reform, which favors reducing immigration, said many Americans still strongly oppose legalization for the 11 million immigrants in the country illegally because they feel that life in the United States 'is a precious asset that should be not be handed out easily.'” (New York Times, Saturday, June 21)

I could not agree more with Mr. Stein.  I think it completely unfair that these migrants should be allowed to achieve American citizenship without going through the hard work of people like me who had to be born here to get it!

While We're at It, Let's Do Away with Spring Break, Too

Wow, it's been awhile.  My apologies to my loyal readers out there--all both of them--but things have been busy at Solipsist Central.  Nevertheless, I felt compelled to throw in my two cents on yesterday's major court ruling in California.

In case you missed it, Los Angeles Superior Court Judge Rolf M. Treu declared the state's law granting public school teachers tenure after eighteen months of service unconstitutional, based on the idea that tenure protections deprive students--in particular lower-income and minority students--of the state-guaranteed right to a quality education:

“'All sides to this litigation agree that competent teachers are a critical, if not the most important, component of success of a child’s in-school educational experience,' Judge Treu wrote in his ruling. 'There is also no dispute that there are a significant number of grossly ineffective teachers currently active in California classrooms.'”

I, too, basically agree with that entire statement (although words and phrases like "significant number" and "ineffective" are so vague as to be meaningless).  Still, however, I reject the conclusion that, somehow, eliminating tenure protections will lead to a vast improvement in overall educational quality.

When the general public hears the word "tenure," they probably picture college professors: tweed-bedecked academics sipping brandy and pontificating on intellectual ephemera with little concern for or interest in the real world needs of the students they teach.  Those who brought this particular case see tenure as little more than a job-protection program for incompetent teachers.  And I will acknowledge that tenure laws do make it difficult to get rid of unsatisfactory teachers.  But people need to remember that the original idea behind tenure was not to protect the incompetent from some deserved termination, but rather to protect highly-qualified professionals from arbitrary punishment when they expressed unpopular ideas.  Is this, in fact, still a problem?  Consider that there are school boards in Kansas that discourage the teaching of evolution.  If you were a Kansas science teacher, would you be willing to discuss Darwin in a classroom--even as an alternative to creationist nonsense--unless you had some kind of tenure?

More to the point, though, What, exactly, do opponents of tenure expect will happen if they achieve their goals.  Let's say we could all agree on some objective definition of "incompetence," and that schools subsequently rid themselves of all their tenured-but-incompetent instructors.  What then?  Do you suppose there will be some sudden influx of brilliant, dedicated instructors rushing to fill these classes?  Do you think there is a vast pool of people dying to teach--if only this already poorly compensated profession would do away with one of the few perqs it offers?  Or would the remaining instructors--by definition those who are competent-to-excellent--simply be asked to do even more, take on more classes, teach more students--knowing that if they are unable to keep up with the ever-increasing demands, they, too, will be found incompetent and summarily replaced?

Sure, it should be easier to get rid of grossly incompetent teachers.  But in an underfunded, undervalued, overcrowded, and overburdened school system, teacher tenure is one of the least important "problems" to be tackling.

Who IS Gertrude Stein, Anyway?

Gertrude Stein once remarked that "to write is to live is to be."

Or not.  Actually, Gertrude Stein never said any such thing.  Or perhaps she did.  When I say Gertrude Stein never said any such thing I really mean that I myself have no evidence that Gertrude Stein ever said any such thing.  She certainly could have said such a thing.  I know only a small fraction of the things Gertrude Stein ever said--a very small fraction: I've never actually read anything by Gertrude Stein; the extent of my knowledge of her writings extends scarcely further than "A rose is a rose is a rose."  Which, when you think about it, makes only slightly more sense than my hypothetical remark above.

Gertrude Stein also wrote The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, and for all I know that book might contain a sentence espousing the equivalence of writing and living and being.  I doubt it, but it's certainly possible. After all, Gertrude Stein presumably possessed a vocabulary that included all the words in my "quote," along with the linguistic ability to arrange those words in that same syntactical order. Maybe I'm wrong about her vocabulary.  She does not seem to have known, for example, what the word "autobiography" means.

The question, then, is this: If Gertrude Stein did, in fact, write a sentence that I assumed she did not write--that I presented merely as a way to add (fraudulent) gravitas to this post--then would what I did nevertheless be considered quotation?  And had I made the statement without stating that Gertrude Stein made the statement that I assumed she had not made, would my statement then be exhibit A in a case of plagiarism that would no doubt have amused Gertrude Stein immensely.  If she were into that sort of thing.  I don't know.  As I say, I've never read anything by Gertrude Stein.  I have no idea what would have amused her.

It's All about the Fundamentals

Tonight, the final game of the 2014 NCAA Women's Basketball Championship features an unprecedented matchup: The two teams, the University of Connecticut Lady Huskies and the Notre Dame Fighting Irish. . .Women. . . . The Harridans?  I don't know.  Where was I?

Oh, yeah.  The two teams both come into the final game undefeated!  They boast a combined record of something like 1,645-0.  This has never happened in the history of college basketball--men's or women's.  Incredibly impressive. . . . And yet.

How seriously can one take a sport where the head coach of one of the teams in the championship game is named Muffet McGraw?

Seriously.

Absurdity Du Jour

This is the world in which we live: Dr. Vivek H. Murthy, President Obama's nominee for surgeon general, faces major opposition in his quest for senate confirmation.  Not because he is unqualified, not because he is a bad doctor--not even because he has a funny name.  No, Dr. Murthy faces opposition because he holds radical views on gun control.  Or, at any rate, because he holds...views on gun control: You know, he has espoused those crazy, "fringe" ideas like limiting ammunition purchases or mandating safety training for gun owners.

This has the National Rifle Association up in arms (sorry), and promising to punish any senator (read: vulnerable Democratic senator) who has the temerity to support Dr. Murthy's nomination.  In response, the Obama administration is considering delaying the confirmation vote until after the midterm elections, or even withdrawing the nomination altogether.

Now, forget for the moment the fact that the surgeon general, whatever his personal opinions, has effectively zero authority over enacting or enforcing gun laws.  Focus instead on the apparent fact that, for the NRA, the only acceptable nominee for surgeon general would be one who believes that gun owners should not be required to know how to use their guns safely.

This is the world we're living in.

Senior Moments

As the NCAA basketball season winds down, and March marches inexorably toward madness, many colleges are hosting "Senior Nights" at ball games.  These games, typically the final home game of the regular season, offer fans the chance to honor and bid farewell to those players who will soon be graduating.  But these days, virtually all of the best players--those destined for NBA superstardom--leave college as underclassmen; many are "one and done" players, serving their obligatory (since an NBA rule change) freshman-year sentence in relatively luxurious serfdom at a major university, before declaring for the draft and reaping millions come June.  So, if you think about it--and I do--those seniors everyone is bidding adieu are almost inevitably not stars, not frontline players, not likely to grace the cover of Sports Illustrated or the back pages of your local tabloids any time soon.  They are talented, to be sure, but not quite talented enough to rise to the top tier of their field.  One cannot help but wonder--and perhaps worry a little--about how these young men and women will fare once they depart the cozy confines of their university gymnasia, as highly educated (we can only hope!) members of the common herd.

On the radio this morning, I heard a commercial for a well-known gecko-ridden auto insurance company, in which a prospective customer's "conscience" exhorted him to switch to this particular insurance company, on the grounds that doing so would save the consumer significant amounts of cash.  This is wrong!, I thought: The job of the conscience is to help us discern right from wrong, to provide us with moral and ethical guidance, not to serve as some sort of mental financial consultant.  The conscience is the Jiminy Cricket to our Pinocchio, the Watson to our Sherlock--or Wilson to our House, if you prefer.  Let our left brains sort through the minutiae of dollars and sense, but leave us our consciences to help us navigate the rocky shoals of soul-endangering temptation!  Do not cheapen this precious characteristic which may, it is no exaggeration to say, be the very thing that separates humanity from the baser inhabitants of our fallen world!  And then, in a flash, it hit me:  I am probably thinking much too hard about this.

The Solipsist Picks the Oscars (Yes, I Know!)

Sorry, sorry, sorry.  I know I'm a little late, but I didn't want to leave Solipsist Nation without its annual Oscar picks.  As usual, I have seen none of the nominate movies.  Nevertheless, through a combination of careful review of critical responses to the nominations, a statistical analysis of domestic and international box office results, and a cursory reading of this morning's paper, I am confident in my ability to predict winners.  To wit:

BEST PICTURE: Despite the overwhelmingly critical response to "American Hustle" and the popularity of "Gravity," I have to go with "Twelve Years a Slave," Steve McQueen's (no relation) epic tale of, I'm guessing, a guy who was a slave for twelve years.

BEST ACTOR: Matthew McConaughey (or, as John Travolta would say, Michael Mozaleen) deserves to win this award, as he is currently the best actor on television in what is currently the best show on television, "True Detective."  So I'm picking him.

BEST ACTRESS: Based on the fact that Cate Blanchett (Clark Brazent) has clearly garnered more votes than any of the other nominees, I suspect that she will beat out contenders like Amy Adams (Ahmed Ajams) and Meryl Streep (Marcel Speerce)--the latter of whom was not even IN a movie this year, but, you know, she's Meryl Streep, and, by law, she must be nominated.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS: Despite winning the award last night, Lupita Nyong'o (Louisa Reynzo--and you know you're in trouble when your Travoltafied name sounds MORE normal than your real one) will, I think, ultimately lose to June Squibb (Jude Smoith). This is my "upset special."

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: Finally, Jared Leto (Jed Lopeez), having been named "Best Supporting Actor" last night, will win the award.  Next year, Leto will win "Best Actress"--have you seen that guy?  He's beautiful!

Put on a Friendly Face

The other day, a student spoke about how "unwelcoming" a college could be.  She spoke of being made to feel like a nuisance when she sought help from college staff members.  Then someone else--an administrator, this time--talked about how he once, as a sort of experiment, decided to stand in line at the Admissions counter to get a sense of what the experience was like.  He described being struck by the preponderance of signage advising people what they couldn't do: "Please end all cell phone conversations before speaking to the clerical staff"; "Do not place anything on the counter"; "Please do not tease or feed the financial aid representatives."  I kid about that last one, but you get the idea.

The student then went on to describe how, from her point of view, so much of the communication she experienced at the college took this kind of negative or domineering tone:  the typical class syllabus, for example.  Now, a syllabus is, essentially, a contract between an instructor and his class.  It outlines what the course will cover, as well as the expectations for both students and faculty.  As such, the syllabus must be fairly extensive and formal.  And this formality can certainly be intimidating: "Assignments must be handed in on the dates indicated. No late assignments will be accepted, and students will receive a grade of '0' for any assignment not handed in": "All written assignments must follow MLA format.  Any papers that fail to adhere to MLA format will receive a failing grade": "Students who miss more than six hours of class will be dropped from the class."

Again, as a quasi-legal document, the course syllabus must serve its contractual obligation and clearly delineate the rules and expectations.  But what the student said got me thinking about why (or whether) an official document had to be so draconian sounding.  What would a "softer" syllabus sound like?  "In order for me [i.e., the instructor] to give you helpful feedback on your work, you need to make sure that you hand work in on time.  Unfortunately, due to the limited time we have over the course of the semester, I cannot accept late work"; "In this class, you will learn how to document sources properly using MLA format.  After you learn these techniques, you will need to apply them to your formal written assignments for this--and other--classes"; "We cover a lot of information in our class meetings, so, if you miss more than six hours of class, you will not be able to do all the necessary work to achieve a passing grade.  In that event, I may drop you from the class so that you do not receive a failing grade."

A difference without a distinction?  Possibly.  Still, it pays for an organization to think about the minor variations possible in the ways it interacts with its clientele. Small gestures in the service of better presentation may make a big difference to the customer.

Olympic Musings.

Every Olympics brings new events.  Often, these are merely old events with the addition of a new gender category, e.g., men's rhythmic gymnastics, or with an added element of synchronicity, e.g., synchronized pole-vaulting.  I'm kidding about that last one.  I think.  OK, maybe not.

Anyway, this year's Sochi Olympics feature the debut of women's ski-jumping.  To which I must ask, Why wasn't this a thing already?  Were women somehow more susceptible to the effects of gravity--or would it be "less"--I'm not even sure where the concern would lie.  I can't imagine that women would have any greater or lesser difficulty in hurtling through the air than men.  What took so long?

And then, there is also the question of why some sports need to be divided by gender.  Sure, I can understand why women don't compete directly against men in sports like hockey or wrestling--not that that wouldn't be fun.  But do we really need to have separate men's and women's teams for curling?  Couldn't we just get the best men and the best women to compete together in what is, after all, a truly idiotic sport?

Can I Sell Pay-Per-View Tickets to Michael Sam Vs. Richie Incognito?

Reading the ongoing coverage of the scandal in the Miami Dolphins locker room, I find myself struggling to maintain a politically correct attitude.  For those of you unfamiliar with the situation, you really need to read the papers more.  But here's what happened:

Last October, Jonathan Martin, an offensive tackle for the Dolphins, abruptly left the team, claiming that ongoing taunting by his teammates, chief among them Richie Incognito, had become intolerable. Incognito was subsequently suspended indefinitely from the team, and, when Martin's accusations went public, a spate of handwringing about the bullying, homophobic culture in NFL locker rooms ensued. Yesterday, a report commissioned by the NFL described the situation as a "classic case of bullying."

Now, let me stipulate: From everything I have read and seen, it seems Richie Incognito is a class-A schmuck, an asshole of epic proportions, and someone who could benefit from nothing so much as a swift punch to the face.  That being said, am I alone in wishing that, rather than leaving the team, Jonathan Martin had administered said swift punch?

And while Incognito and others certainly are bullies, I'm not completely convinced that Martin was bullied.  Because, look: What do people say to bullies when trying to get them to change their obnoxious ways: "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"  Well, when it comes to Richie Incognito and Jonathan Martin, that is exactly what Incognito did!  Jonathan Martin, for all his apparent sensitivity, was hardly defenseless: He was no 98-pound weakling--much less a place-kicker!  He was, in fact, quite literally the same size as his tormentor: 6'5" and 312 pounds, compared to Incognito's 6'3 and 319.  If Martin had, in response to Incognito's torments, reared back and clocked Incognito, does anyone doubt that the bullying would very likely have stopped?  Moreover, the bullying of other people in the locker room, including an assistant trainer who was certainly less able to defend himself than Martin, might have diminished as well.

Should someone have to put up with incessant taunting at one's workplace?  No.  But Jonathan Martin chose to accept a generous salary to play a sport that is inherently violent and filled with players not exactly known for their emotional maturity.  I don't excuse Richie Incognito's behavior, and I think it would be great if NFL locker rooms were less hostile places to work.  But in addition to sensitivity training for the more Neanderthal members of the NFL family, a great way for the culture to change would be for everybody to remember the standard advice--or at least what used to be the standard advice--about dealing with bullies: If you stand up to a bully, he will often back down.

And if Michael Sam--the NFL prospect who just came out as gay--finds himself in a locker room with Richie Incognito, is there anyone who thinks Sam will back down or leave the team in the face of homophobic taunts?

Zoo Story

Everybody's ganging up on the Copenhagen Zoo!  It's not fair, really.  Just because zoo officials butchered an adorable giraffe named Marius and fed him to the lions--I mean, is that any reason to get all indignant?  Be honest: Who hasn't wanted to kill a giraffe?  Or, for that matter, who hasn't watched Les Miserables and wanted to kill someone named Marius?  And it's not like the zoo had much choice: As they explained, Marius, while perfectly healthy, shared too many genetic attributes with his fellow zoo-mates, so the only way for the zoo to prevent potentially harmful inbreeding was to blow the poor fellow's brains out with a bolt gun!  What else could they do?!?

Well, OK, the COULD have given him to one of the other zoos that offered to take him in. . . . Or, I suppose they could have just neutered him. . . . Or just kept him separated from the other giraffes if it came to that. . . . So, yes, they could have done all kinds of things other than kill him.  But where would be the fun in that?

Because, let's face it, people basically go to zoos for the same reason they go to NASCAR races: the potential for bloodshed.  Who hasn't stood at the railing of, say, the polar bear exhibit, just waiting for an unwary seal to wander into the enclosure?  Who hasn't wished to see the Bengal tiger go to town in the lemur habitat?  Not me, that's for sure.

Indeed, I think Copenhagen might be on to something: The notion of a petting zoo is, let's face it, hopelessly passé.  But a killing zoo? I'm thinking there could be a giant roulette wheel at the front entrance, with all the resident animals on it.  Every morning, I spin of the wheel would determine that day's victim--uh, featured performer.  Today an eland, tomorrow a hippo, and the day after that, a giant sloth!  And why should the zookeepers have all the fun?  Visitors could get in on the action for a small extra charge.  How much would you pay to drop a toaster into the dolphin tank?  Or play Whac-a-Mole with actual moles?!?

So kudos to the Copenhagen Zoo for showing us all the future in zoological entrepreneurship!  And on behalf of the psychoanalytic industry, may I also thank the zoo for the uptick in revenue that will no doubt occur from all those children seeking therapy after watching Marius' demise!

Undignified

I support the whole idea of "death with dignity."  Who wouldn't?  What's the alternative?  "Death Accompanied by Hysterical Freaking Out"?  I am all for allowing people with terminal illness to choose, to a reasonable extent, the time, place, and means of their own demise.

Like-minded supporters of death with dignity, seeking to avoid the stigma associated with the term "assisted suicide," have adopted "aid in dying" as their preferred term of art.  Not completely sure this is an improvement: "Assisted suicide," while blunter than some would like, has the advantage of accuracy; "aid in dying" sounds troublingly euphemistic.  Jeffrey Dahmer provided plenty of "aid in dying."

More troubling, though, are people who push the limits of acceptable "assistance" in dying.  An article in today's Times tells the story of Robert Mitton, a 58-year-old with a terminal heart condition.  Although he would like to enlist assistance in his wish to end his own life before his health deteriorates to a point where he cannot take matters in his own hands, Mitton does not have that option: He lives in Colorado where, as in a majority of states, assisted suicide is illegal.

I am sympathetic to Mitton's plight, and I would not--do not--begrudge him his desire to avoid what by all accounts will be a lengthy and painful death.  Here's the thing, though: Mitton's condition is not, strictly speaking, terminal.  Unlike late-stage cancer patients or those slipping into irreversible dementia, Robert Mitton suffers from a heart condition that could be fixed through surgery: Indeed, he had a similar surgery in 1999 that successfully prolonged his life to this point--that's 15 years!

Now, in fairness, the surgery is extensive and painful.  I can understand this man's desire not to undergo it. If he would rather dies than face that surgery, that is his absolute right.  And, indeed, if he fears that the pain associated with his disease will become intolerable, he has the right to take matters into his own hands.  I do not think, however, he has a reasonable right to expect medical professionals--whose job it is, after all, to extend life whenever possible--to take an active role in helping him end a life that, by all accounts, does not need to end so imminently.

I worry that stories like that of Robert Mitton will provide ammunition for those who passionately oppose the assisted suicide movement.  Because what he seems to be asking for is not help in navigating the end stages of a terminal disease, but rather assistance in avoiding a potentially winnable battle to survive.  His search for "death with dignity" looks uncomfortably like a simple death wish.

Kiner's Korner

This week began with the shocking death of Philip Seymour Hoffman.  He was, of course, one of those folks frequently short-listed for the title "Greatest Actor of His Generation," and we will not soon see his like again.  The week ended, though, with another death, much less shocking and much less generally noticed, but sadder on a personal level: the passing of Ralph Kiner and. with him, of a distinctive part of my youth.

Kiner was a Hall-of-Fame baseball player, primarily with the Pittsburgh Pirates in the late 1940's and early 1950's.  Over a playing career abbreviated by persistent back injuries, Kiner was one of the most fearsome power hitters in the game.  But of course, he played his last game fifteen years before I was born.  So to me, and probably to a majority of baseball fans alive today, Ralph Kiner was not primarily a superstar slugger but was, instead, the television voice of the New York Mets.  From their almost satirical entry into the National League in 1962, through their miraculous 1969 season, and more than 40 more years of triumph and haplessness--OK, mostly haplessness--Ralph Kiner was the somewhat drab but always professional play-by-play man in the broadcast booth--and as such was someone with whom I spent an inordinate amount of time beginning in the mid-1980s.

Back in those days, my metabolism was such that I could polish off a pint of Haagen-Dazs peach ice cream virtually every night of the baseball season--from April to October--and still weigh about 140 pounds soaking wet come Halloween.  And the soundtrack to these ice cream binges, whenever the Mets were on channel nine (WOR Secaucus, NJ), was good ol' Ralph Kiner, ably complemented by the color commentary of Tim McCarver (not yet the official voice of Major League Baseball).  The results of those games were often nowhere near as sweet as the dessert, I'm sad to say.

Rest in peace, Ralph.  The games won't be the same without you.

Solomoronic?

According to legend, when King Solomon was confronted by two women who both claimed to be the mother of an infant and begged Solomon to decide the matter, the king displayed his legendary wisdom by decreeing that, since it was impossible to determine the true mother's identity, the baby should be sliced in two and distributed equally between the plaintiffs.  The actual mother thereupon immediately renounced her claim, imploring Solomon simply to give the baby away rather than kill it.  The "Judgment of Solomon" has since become an exemplary tale of executive wisdom.

In Solomon's defense, there were no CSI-style DNA labs in ancient Israel, so a certain degree of improvisation was called for.  But this strategy has always struck me as somewhat questionable.  I mean, do you suppose the king was actually joking?  "Hey, guys, if you don't stop bickering, I'm just gonna chop the baby in half, OK?"  And while Solomon could certainly expect a mother to object to the violent slaughter of her own baby, what kind of uncivilized hellscape was he presiding over that he would expect the other woman to so casually accede to attempted infanticide?

If I were Solomon, I would be all like, "OK, not only do YOU (woman who protested) get the baby, but YOU (woman who was going to go along with it) need to check yourself into a mental hospital!"  Or, whatever passed for mental hospitals back in those days.  Cappadocia, maybe, I don't know.

What the Dean Do (continued)

In case anyone out there was wondering, my exact title is "Dean of Liberal Arts," the Liberal Arts Division being one of four divisions at my college.  Liberal Arts comprises the following departments: English, Music, Drama, Foreign Languages, ESL, Journalism, and Fine and Media Arts.  I'm also in charge of tutoring.  I'm NOT in charge of the library, which is somewhat surprising; after all, you can't even SPELL "liberal arts" without using several of the same letters as appear in the word "library," but what are you gonna do? At any rate, I made it through the first week and I am pleased to say that I managed to achieve my first major goal: not having the college spontaneously combust on my watch. If the second week turns out to be as successful as the first, I expect that I might just succeed in this job after all.

What the Dean Do?

As I went through the application process for this position, I was heartened--touched, really--by a huge outpouring of support from members of the various departments that I would supervise if I actually got the job.  So many people came up to me to express their sincere appreciation to me for pursuing the job--and not just, as is often the case, because they themselves wouldn't take the job if you paid them!

(Wait, I AM getting paid for this, right?  OK, good.)

No, people seemed to think I would actually be good at the job.  They expressed faith in my managerial abilities, as well as a sense that I am someone who is easy to work with.  And I am!  Easy to work with, that is.  I have always taken an approach to work--whatever job I held--that there is pretty much never a reason to get too worked up about anything.  At a college, for example, no matter how crazy things get, no matter how many additional requirements get dumped on people, the fundamental job remains fairly straightforward: Teach the students.  Everything else really doesn't matter all that much.  Anyway, this fundamentally laconic attitude, I think, was reassuring to the people I work with: They know that I'm not going to get too stressed out, nor am I going to get terribly worked up about "the small stuff."

Absent, however, from all these expressions of faith and encouragement was any clear sense of what I would do as dean.  And then I realized why: Nobody exactly understands just what it is that a dean does!  I mean, we all knew that a dean oversaw the creation of the class schedule and monitored budgets.  And everybody knows about the best part of the dean job: canceling classes!  But there are only so many classes one can cancel.  (Alas!)  And then what?

For the benefit of future generations of mid-level higher-education managers, then, I will attempt to document here the various things that I do in my new decanal position.  First and foremost, I learn!  I have learned, for example, that the adjectival form of the word "dean" is "decanal."  I have learned in my first two days on the job how to fill out forms requesting new classes, changing instructors, and canceling classes--in fact, they're all the same form!!! I have filled out forms requesting that instructors be allowed to teach more than they are supposed to be teaching!  I have filled out forms requesting keys!  I have filled out forms ensuring that people get paid on time!  It's been an exciting start, I can tell you!

At my interview, I was asked about things like my vision for the position.  I didn't mention a neverending succession of forms.  So I guess I got that answer wrong.

Advice to an OLD Teacher: And Now What?

A few months ago, I went to an academic conference.  One of the breakout sessions was an hour-long discussion about why so few faculty aspired to go into administration.  I didn't actually attend this session, as I couldn't comprehend why anyone would need an hour to say, "Well, duh!"  Because, seriously, why would anyone, given a choice, opt for a workweek filled with meetings, bureaucracy, and complaints over the much more innately appealing prospect of hanging out with students, pontificating for several hours a week on a topic that interests you, and having summers off?  It's a fair question.

Nevertheless, last semester, when my own longtime dean announced her retirement, I decided to throw my hat into the ring and apply for her job.  And today, I was informed that I got it.  And now I am answering the obvious question: Why?

Mainly, I want a new challenge.  I enjoy teaching, and I think I'm pretty good at it, but I've been doing it now, in one way or another, for over twenty years.  It's time for something new.  And as much as administration features some unappealing aspects--I dread the meetings that are, I fear, going to become a major part of my life for years to come--administration also, possibly, offers opportunities.  If nothing else, a good administrator can make it easier for good teachers to do a good job.  If nothing else, I hope that becomes part of my legacy.

But, legacies are a long way off.  Tomorrow is day one.  Let the adventure begin!

Less Than Half Mad

According to a test devised by an Oxford professor, Your-Not-So-Humble-Correspondent is 48% psychopathic.  Or something like that.  Specifically, I received a score of 48% on the "psychopathic spectrum."  I guess this means I am closer to completely sane than to stark, raving bonkers--but not by much.

I posted these results on Facebook, commenting half-jokingly that I thought the result sounded a bit low.  Turns out, though, I was right--the score is low: The average result for men is, in fact, 50%.  I am thus less psychopathic than the average man--or less masculine than the average psychopath.  Not sure which is worse.  Women, interestingly, score, on average, 38% on the psychopathic spectrum.

Of course, one can presumably skew the results.  Participants are asked to indicate their level of agreement with each of 11 statements, and, for the most part, the "more psychopathic" answer is fairly obvious.  For example, the test asks participants their level of agreement with statements like, "I would have no problem cheating on my partner if I knew I could get away with it," or "I think it's OK to step over other people to achieve my own ambitions."

It seems fairly obvious that the more one agrees with those statements, the more "psychopathic" one is going to be ranked.  If one wants to be ranked lower, then, one could simply indicate strong disagreement.  The question then, is this: Are men truly more innately psychopathic than women?  More possessed of socially undesirable characteristics?  Or are they just more honest about their shortcomings?  And if so, is being honest about one's psychopathy in and of itself crazy?

So That's Where That Comes From. . . .

The other day, on my drive to work, I happened to glance to my left as I was going through an intersection.  I saw a chicken racing across the street!!  And all I could think was, "Why?"

Update

Hello Sloppists.

Sorry I haven't been around much lately.  Busy times at work.  Possible changes coming down the pike.  Will update as soon as I know more about what will be happening in my life over the next few weeks, months, years, etc.

See you soon!

Inspirationaemia

How bad is it? I'm lying here, watching TV. A commercial for "Flex Seal Clear" comes on. The pitchman enthuses about Flex Seal's ability to prevent water damage by forming watertight seals around cracks. The dramatic demonstration: the bottom of a rowboat is replaced with a sheet of clear plexiglass. Numerous holes are drilled in the plexiglass, and then the whole things is sprayed with Flex Seal Clear. The next thing we see: The pitchman in the boat, happily bobbing on the waves, the seal holding, fish swimming oblivious below...

...And I'm lying there thinking: Hey, THIS could make a good blog post!

Bowled Over

Prior to the kickoff of this year's Rose Bowl, between the Stanford Cardinal (no 's,' please, we're pretentious) and the Michigan State Spartans, the audience stood and both teams took the field to listen reverently to the National Anthem.  As is customary, hats were removed and held over chests.  The players removed their helmets.  I couldn't help but notice the MSU mascot, Sparty (!); he basically looked like this:

You see?  He DID NOT remove his helmet!  Now, you might excuse this by pointing out that, as a Spartan, Sparty maintains his citizenship in a Greek city-state, and thus owes no allegiance to the United States or its traditions.  But this is just plain rude!  A more acceptable explanation is that the helmet is permanently affixed to the rest of the mascot costume, and thus cannot easily be removed independent of the head.  Of course, then, the appropriate thing to do would simply be to remove the entire head.  Unless. . .  IT'S NOT A COSTUME AT ALL!

My point?  Michigan State University is populated by unknown numbers of heavily muscled, felt-skinned warrior mutants!  I pick them to win by 5 1/2.