Cheers to Speaker of the House John Boehner (R-eally?!?) for taking a bold stand against diehard conservative activists! Boehner slammed outside agitators in a speech to House Republicans, lambasting them as hypocrites who claim to espouse faith in higher principles but who truly seek only to raise money and expand their membership lists. They are, Boehner concluded, "ridiculous"!
Why the verbal tongue-lashing? Well, Boehner is apparently fed up with the damage caused to his Grand Old Party by these unelected agitators. After all, because of provocations from groups like Heritage USA, cowardly Republican leaders--like John Boehner--were forced to abandon their principles and shut down the government over an unwinnable attempt to defund the Affordable Care Act! If only staunch possessors of adamantine backbone--like John Boehner--had been in charge back then! Imagine how differently things would have turned out!
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Saturday, December 14, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Ready for Some Football, But Not Ready for THAT
I've watched "Thursday Night Football" a few times this season, but I guess, before tonight, I had never caught the opening. It features someone named Priyanka Chopra singing a song called "In My City":
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IQCjqTZQLo
I never thought I'd say this, but I kind of miss Hank Williams, Jr.
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IQCjqTZQLo
I never thought I'd say this, but I kind of miss Hank Williams, Jr.
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Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Just Another Day at Solipsist Central--Workplace Edition
A few weeks ago, my place of employment upgraded its phone system. None too soon, I might add: I had had the same phone since I began working at the college, over twelve years ago. Now I have all the telephonic bells and whistles I could ever desire: Caller ID! A speakerphone! An online directory! Cool flashy lights! I am as giddy as a kid on Christmas--if that kid had had a very, very sad life up to that point.
Today I received an e-mail from the head of the college's IT Department, which I'm told stands for "information technology." Department. The e-mail contained information about where to dispose of the old phones. Relevant information, to be sure. I couldn't help but note an undercurrent of sarcasm, however, as the e-mail proceeded to give detailed information about how to disconnect the old phones, should they still be connected. I remind you: I work at a college--staffed, as you might expect, by college-educated personnel. I questioned the necessity of a paragraph in an e-mail dedicated to an explanation of how to, not to put too fine a point on it, unplug a phone! And then the e-mail concluded--I kid you not--"If you are not comfortable unplugging your own phone, please call the Help Desk so we can assist you." I would pay to listen in on those conversations.
"Yes, I need my phone unplugged, and I was hoping I could get someone to help me with it. I don't have any protective gloves, and I'm worried about getting bitten by phone-hornets."
"Hi, I tried disconnecting my phone, but I think I did it wrong, because I'm talking to you."
"I need some help with my phone. And my shoelaces."
Today I received an e-mail from the head of the college's IT Department, which I'm told stands for "information technology." Department. The e-mail contained information about where to dispose of the old phones. Relevant information, to be sure. I couldn't help but note an undercurrent of sarcasm, however, as the e-mail proceeded to give detailed information about how to disconnect the old phones, should they still be connected. I remind you: I work at a college--staffed, as you might expect, by college-educated personnel. I questioned the necessity of a paragraph in an e-mail dedicated to an explanation of how to, not to put too fine a point on it, unplug a phone! And then the e-mail concluded--I kid you not--"If you are not comfortable unplugging your own phone, please call the Help Desk so we can assist you." I would pay to listen in on those conversations.
"Yes, I need my phone unplugged, and I was hoping I could get someone to help me with it. I don't have any protective gloves, and I'm worried about getting bitten by phone-hornets."
"Hi, I tried disconnecting my phone, but I think I did it wrong, because I'm talking to you."
"I need some help with my phone. And my shoelaces."
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Maybe It's the Weather
For nearly four years now (!), I've kept up this blog on a near-daily basis. I don't know exactly how. Many was the day--perhaps you could tell--when I truly had nothing to say. And yet I managed to crank out a paragraph or to in order to say it (nothing, that is). A dubious achievement, to be sure, but an achievement, nonetheless. Lately, though, I've slacked off. Very few of my recent endeavors have risen to the level of acceptability--not much I would consider placing in any compilation of the Solipsist's greatest hits.
There are some things going on in my personal life, which are probably taking a toll. Well, definitely taking a toll. I know I'm less-focused on this blog than I might otherwise be. I don't think, though, that this wholly explains my meager output. Honestly, I suspect it has something to do with the weather. I generally scoff at such pharmaceutically-promoted "diseases" as "seasonal affective disorder": Sorry, but if a condition was unknown before a treatment was miraculously invented, said condition doesn't really exist. Still, the Bay Area has been in the grip of something of a cold snap the past few days, and it does wear one down.
To be clear, Northern California temperatures cannot begin to compare to the arctic conditions across the Midwest and Northeast. In a way, though, the relative mildness makes things worse: It's just cold enough outside to be truly uncomfortable, without being cold enough to require massive bundling or supplying such picturesque touches as snow and icicles. The result is a general chill in the air that seeps right into the bones, making one feel vaguely fluish without, knock wood, actually suffering the disease.
My point is: Not conducive to anything resembling creative output. I cling to the hope that this, too, shall pass soon and I'll be back to my normal loquacious self.
There are some things going on in my personal life, which are probably taking a toll. Well, definitely taking a toll. I know I'm less-focused on this blog than I might otherwise be. I don't think, though, that this wholly explains my meager output. Honestly, I suspect it has something to do with the weather. I generally scoff at such pharmaceutically-promoted "diseases" as "seasonal affective disorder": Sorry, but if a condition was unknown before a treatment was miraculously invented, said condition doesn't really exist. Still, the Bay Area has been in the grip of something of a cold snap the past few days, and it does wear one down.
To be clear, Northern California temperatures cannot begin to compare to the arctic conditions across the Midwest and Northeast. In a way, though, the relative mildness makes things worse: It's just cold enough outside to be truly uncomfortable, without being cold enough to require massive bundling or supplying such picturesque touches as snow and icicles. The result is a general chill in the air that seeps right into the bones, making one feel vaguely fluish without, knock wood, actually suffering the disease.
My point is: Not conducive to anything resembling creative output. I cling to the hope that this, too, shall pass soon and I'll be back to my normal loquacious self.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Mandela No Shoo-In for Hall of Fame
As the world mourns the passing of Nelson Mandela, the former South African president and an internationally revered icon of peace and humanity, a debate has flared anew over whether the late Nobel laureate deserves enshrinement in the Baseball Hall of Fame.
While Mandela's lifetime accomplishments in the promotion of human rights remain unparalleled, his lifetime batting average compares unfavorably with that of sluggers like Bill Mazeroski (2001) and Harmon Killebrew (1984), and his power-numbers are similarly underwhelming. Furthermore, unlike fellow civil rights icon Jackie Robinson, Mandela won neither a Rookie of the Year nor a Most Valuable Player award during his career.
Mandela always displayed great plate discipline, leading to an impressive number of walks, and few will forget the key role he played toward the end of his career in helping the Milwaukee Braves knock off the Yankees in the 1957 World Series. Still, the fact that he never finished higher than third in any race for a batting title--to say nothing of his frankly embarrassing numbers when he briefly tried his hand at pitching (1-7, 5.96 ERA, 32 walks, 14 strikeouts)--will likely doom his chances at enshrinement in Cooperstown.
The Hall of Fame Veterans Committee will consider Mandela's bid for membership, along with the posthumous candidacies of the Yankees owner George Steinbrenner and players' union director Marvin Miller.
While Mandela's lifetime accomplishments in the promotion of human rights remain unparalleled, his lifetime batting average compares unfavorably with that of sluggers like Bill Mazeroski (2001) and Harmon Killebrew (1984), and his power-numbers are similarly underwhelming. Furthermore, unlike fellow civil rights icon Jackie Robinson, Mandela won neither a Rookie of the Year nor a Most Valuable Player award during his career.
Mandela always displayed great plate discipline, leading to an impressive number of walks, and few will forget the key role he played toward the end of his career in helping the Milwaukee Braves knock off the Yankees in the 1957 World Series. Still, the fact that he never finished higher than third in any race for a batting title--to say nothing of his frankly embarrassing numbers when he briefly tried his hand at pitching (1-7, 5.96 ERA, 32 walks, 14 strikeouts)--will likely doom his chances at enshrinement in Cooperstown.
The Hall of Fame Veterans Committee will consider Mandela's bid for membership, along with the posthumous candidacies of the Yankees owner George Steinbrenner and players' union director Marvin Miller.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Dubious Moments in Management
This semester has featured some calendrical oddities: In addition to beginning on a Friday--which is actually typical--this semester offers less than two weeks of classes between Thanksgiving and the end of the semester. What this means for me and other teachers in my department is that final exams--which are all administered department-wide on the same day--have to be graded in a compressed timeframe.
We grade the exams collectively: One teacher reads an exam (not knowing who has written it--the students' names are covered), grades it, and then it is passed along to another teacher--who doesn't know what the first teacher has given it--to grade. Usually, we have at least a week to do all this, but this semester, we have only about three days. So, in the spirit of efficiency, I pulled department-chair rank and called in all the teachers to come together today for a sort of grading party. We would all bring our exams--having done the first readings--and then we would just stay and read until all the second reads were done. To make the offer palatable, I suggested people bring snacks. Which they did.
We all got together, got our snacks, and proceeded to sit down and start to read. Now, by general consensus, I am the fastest reader of these tests. I pride myself on speed. And, indeed, I train my students to accommodate the speedy reader: I tell them that these exams are graded holistically and that, when reading them, I do not want to think! I should be able to read an exam quickly, smoothly, without having to pause or linger over anything. Because, I explain, while making a reader think is sometimes the mark of a great piece of writing, it is more often--at least at this level--a result of opaque prose. The less a piece of writing makes me think, the more likely it is to receive a passing grade. So anyway, I can usually blast through these exams at a rate of 10-12 an hour. Today, however, I got through about eight--in two hours!
The problem, of course, is that when you get a bunch of teachers together at the end of the semester, and set them a task of reading dozens of essays--or, more accurately, essentially the SAME essay dozens of times--they tend to get a bit slap-happy. Throw in Nutter Butter cookies and Coca-Cola, and productivity is not going to be high. And it seemed like such a good idea at the time!
Well, anyway, I'm home now. And, if you'll excuse me. . . I have a bunch of essays to read.
We grade the exams collectively: One teacher reads an exam (not knowing who has written it--the students' names are covered), grades it, and then it is passed along to another teacher--who doesn't know what the first teacher has given it--to grade. Usually, we have at least a week to do all this, but this semester, we have only about three days. So, in the spirit of efficiency, I pulled department-chair rank and called in all the teachers to come together today for a sort of grading party. We would all bring our exams--having done the first readings--and then we would just stay and read until all the second reads were done. To make the offer palatable, I suggested people bring snacks. Which they did.
We all got together, got our snacks, and proceeded to sit down and start to read. Now, by general consensus, I am the fastest reader of these tests. I pride myself on speed. And, indeed, I train my students to accommodate the speedy reader: I tell them that these exams are graded holistically and that, when reading them, I do not want to think! I should be able to read an exam quickly, smoothly, without having to pause or linger over anything. Because, I explain, while making a reader think is sometimes the mark of a great piece of writing, it is more often--at least at this level--a result of opaque prose. The less a piece of writing makes me think, the more likely it is to receive a passing grade. So anyway, I can usually blast through these exams at a rate of 10-12 an hour. Today, however, I got through about eight--in two hours!
The problem, of course, is that when you get a bunch of teachers together at the end of the semester, and set them a task of reading dozens of essays--or, more accurately, essentially the SAME essay dozens of times--they tend to get a bit slap-happy. Throw in Nutter Butter cookies and Coca-Cola, and productivity is not going to be high. And it seemed like such a good idea at the time!
Well, anyway, I'm home now. And, if you'll excuse me. . . I have a bunch of essays to read.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Just Another Day at Solipsist Central (Workplace Edition)
COLLEAGE OF SOLIPSIST: I hate the Elf on the Shelf.
SOLIPSIST: What exactly is the Elf on the Shelf?
COS: Well, he's an Elf. . . and you put him. . .
SOL: . . .On the shelf. I got that part. I mean, what's his. . . purpose? His mission? His raison d'Elf?
COS: He just kind of sits on the shelf and keeps an eye on the tree. . . .Makes sure the children aren't being naughty.
SOL: He's a narc.
COS: Basically.
SOL: So this is some Christian thing.
COS: Right.
SOL: Is there a Channukah Elf on the Shelf?
COS: I don't know.
SOL: "The Menorah in the Corna," maybe?
COS: Doesn't really rhyme. . . .Plus, a menorah doesn't narc on anyone. A menorah just. . . .is.
SOL: Right. "The Jew in the Loo"? Too British. "The Yid in the Frid. . .ge"?
COS: That's awful.
SOL: Yeah. . . . Oh! "The Maccabee in the Back-Cubby"!
COS: What's a back cubby?
SOL: Like, if you have a couple of cubbies in your house? And. . . And. . .And one's in the front of the house. . . And. . .uh. . . one's in the, uh. . . the back?
COS: I think you need to keep working on this one.
SOL: I will.
**************************************
UPDATE:
SOLIPSIST: What exactly is the Elf on the Shelf?
COS: Well, he's an Elf. . . and you put him. . .
SOL: . . .On the shelf. I got that part. I mean, what's his. . . purpose? His mission? His raison d'Elf?
COS: He just kind of sits on the shelf and keeps an eye on the tree. . . .Makes sure the children aren't being naughty.
SOL: He's a narc.
COS: Basically.
SOL: So this is some Christian thing.
COS: Right.
SOL: Is there a Channukah Elf on the Shelf?
COS: I don't know.
SOL: "The Menorah in the Corna," maybe?
COS: Doesn't really rhyme. . . .Plus, a menorah doesn't narc on anyone. A menorah just. . . .is.
SOL: Right. "The Jew in the Loo"? Too British. "The Yid in the Frid. . .ge"?
COS: That's awful.
SOL: Yeah. . . . Oh! "The Maccabee in the Back-Cubby"!
COS: What's a back cubby?
SOL: Like, if you have a couple of cubbies in your house? And. . . And. . .And one's in the front of the house. . . And. . .uh. . . one's in the, uh. . . the back?
COS: I think you need to keep working on this one.
SOL: I will.
**************************************
UPDATE:
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