For Papa

This past Sunday, my father-in-law announced that effective the end of August, he will end his tenure as music minister at First Baptist Church Nashville. We are all happy for him, because after 30 years at this church, he's able to step away on his own terms, as a matter of choice.

He made the announcement at the end of the service, and when he opened by saying "I'm announcing my retirement," an audible gasp rippled through the sanctuary. He spoke evenly of what is coming, of the difficulty of stepping away, of his thankfulness for the years given him at the church. It was, as I might have predicted, a graceful and understated way to make a terribly difficult announcement.

W and I cried as he spoke, and I realized as I looked up at the east window that this church has been my spiritual home for many years now. I know about saying goodbye to important places, so I know about the importance of being thankful for the time I am given. Since I first visited the church in the spring of 1994, I've counted it a blessing to worship there, and I've been proud to be associated with Papa. It's not as if we're never going back, but this past weekend did feel like we were turning a page, making way for a change both painful and good.

He'll be receiving a lot of expressions of thankfulness and admiration, so this one can go in the pile as well. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

But dern, I always wanted to sing in that choir.


No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging
Since Christ is lord of Heav'n and Earth
How can I keep from singing?

Life with a Toddler, Vol. 27

Sometimes, the ol' double-door maneuver is called for.

Fool, said my muse to me

Many thanks to my insightful spouse, who took a look at me on Thursday night and said, "you need to take a break."

She's correct, and I'm taking her advice.

Biting my trewand pen, beating myself for spite

Piers has decided, after banging his head against this project for the last week and apparently getting nowhere, that he has somehow become a knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing, nose-picking, back-hair-growing, subliterate troglodyte.

Frater, ave atque vale

"She ordered us first to avoid the voice of the marvelous
Sirens, and also their meadow full of flowers.
Me alone she ordered to hear their voice; but bind me
In hard bonds so that I may stay firm in my place
Erect at the mast. And let the rope-ends be fastened from it.
And if I implore you and call you to untie me
Then constrain me yourselves in further fastenings."
Odyssey XII, 158-164

Several weeks ago, while at a conference in Miami, a friend of mine from UNC asked how things were here in West Tennessee. I said, truthfully, that we are very happy here. He then asked a question that pierced like cold iron: "do you have any friends, folks you hang out with?"

err. . . .

I'll admit that the answer is 'no.' W, being the way she is, has made friends left and right, and while deep trust takes a long time to fully develop, she's well on her way with several women. I have friendly relations with my co-workers, and with some of the folks at church, particularly my fellow sunday school teacher, and the retired history professor I sit beside during choir rehearsal every Wednesday night.

It is true that being alone doesn't really bother me from a circumstantial point of view--I like the quiet, the space for my mind to turn ideas under the light. But then something funny happens, some new movie comes out, I find a cool website, the Tar Heels win or lose a game, and aside from W (whose infinite capacity for empathy and humor continues to amaze), I have nowhere to take the conversation.

But this isn't about complaint, but about sirens.

How so? Well, that emotional feeding is necessary, regardless of my resistance to its demands--and here's the thing, I find myself in the unenviable position of looking for friendship in the place where I spend most of my time--at work. With a group of people I shouldn't look to--the students. Though I'm glad to be a popular professor here (there's evidently a Facebook group for 'Hill Groupies'--no, I've not looked), and though I'm glad to be student-friendly and accessible and even at times personally supportive of my students, I have found a disconcerting tendency in myself to look for more affirmation in those relationships. It's there, but it's not and can't be true friendship.

Of course, I'd never let a personal concern like that put me in an ethically challenged position. Sure, I wouldn't. But if I fall into the trap of believing my own guarantee, I'm already tainted. People are always doing things that "they'd never do."

I see these students in the intense relationships that come along with college experience, and I'll admit that I'm envious. I'd like to sit down and smoke a bowl, have a drink, ruminate and laugh. Hopefully one day--and until then, I'll remember the blessings of Chapel Hill.

Bah! enough navel gazing! Nashe and Martin and Herbert are all waiting for your attention. You should have gotten a degree in English Reformation church history along with all those philosophy and latin courses you should have taken back in college.

So what's Piers been up to?

Graduation.

Grading.

Replacing the Kitchen Faucet.

Yardwork.

and this.

From The Country Parson

Do well, and right, and let the world sinke.

--Geo. Herbert

Upon grading 70 british literature survey papers . . .

. . . I wonder, am I just being a stuffy Luddite when I enjoin my students to not use Wikipedia as a paper resource? Am I going to have to hold the line, even though they hear me and then turn around and act as if I haven't said anything?

Heck, I use the dang thing too . . . though in my Herbert article (hopefully soon to be published) I'll be darned if I'll use it as a reference. I guess making the distinction between casual and serious research is still lost on them. It doesn't answer my question, though.

I've got scores of papers to grade . . .

so naturally, it's time to post pictures. Follow the link below:


http://homepage.mac.com/onkachinka/HawksRoad/PhotoAlbum40.html

Rasselas

Those conditions, which flatter hope and attract desire, are so constituted that, as we approach one, we recede from another. There are goods so opposed that we cannot seize both, but, by too much prudence, may pass between them at too great a distance to reach either. This is often the fate of long consideration; he does nothing who endeavors to do more than is allowed to humanity. Flatter not yourself with contrarieties of pleasure. Of the blessings set before you make your choice, and be content. No man can taste the fruits of autumn, while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of the spring: no man can, at the same time, fill his cup from the source and from the mouth of the Nile.

Yesterday was a rough day

1. The day-care experiment with The Little Boy isn't working. For the last three weeks, he has gone in on Thursday morning and cried . . . until lunchtime. He does this nowhere else. Not when he's visiting other church nurseries, not when he's dropped off for his Tuesday afternoon school, not when he's left with a babysitter. And then there was last night: while in the bathtub, he begins to point at the wall and say things like:

Stop it now!
Do you want a time out?
OK, you there--do you understand me?
No pushing! No crying!
Go away!
I don't want to look at you!

He won't be there another Thursday if we can help it.


2. W's OB/GYN committed suicide on Wednesday. We know no details (nor do we want to), but that strikes pretty close.

Blakbuzzrd, this is for you.

Enjoy. And check out the fast food reviews.

it's sooo true.

Cool

picture. Take a look.

Lord Have Mercy

VT shooting.

Psalm 10
Why do You stand afar off, O Lord?
Why do You hide in times of trouble?

Brother B and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

On Friday, we went to see B's second production at Bethel--Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. He has been really smart in choosing productions that are fun to watch, that make people laugh, that can work in the small venue they have. I think I'm most impressed by the production design and the creative staging.

It's good for B and R to have some successes . . . their time in West Tennessee has been, well, rocky. Some well-deserved kudos for this production will, I hope, help them persevere.

The yard was looking great

. . . and then the past two weeks, sub-freezing temperatures . . . it's all been nipped (in the case of our rose bushes, literally in the bud). A few hostas, our lilac, our burning bush escaped the carnage, but everything else, including the oaks and poplars, looks brown and blighted. Naturally, the dandelions recovered just fine. It's painful to look out front or back, though with the warmer weather this week, it looks like we'll be able to start repairing some of the damage.

What's worse is the situation with the farmers who put in the winter wheat back in November. . . I hear that all the wheat crops are total losses. There's acres of it across the road, and though it doesn't look brown or dead or anything, supposedly it'll never seed out, which means it's just long grass now.

The Definition of Love

Unless the giddy heaven fall,
And earth some new convulsion tear;
And, us to join, the world should all
Be cramped into a planisphere.

As lines (so loves) oblique may well
Themselves in every angle greet:
But ours so truly parallel,
Though infinite, can never meet.

--Andrew Marvell
(stanzas 6 and 7)

Adventures With Students, Vol. 4

Part One--The Forest
IX. Song, To Celia
Drink to me, only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine ;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst, that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine :
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not wither'd be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent'st it back to me :
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.

Part Two--Student Analysis:

In the beginning of the poem, when he talks about her kiss and eyes, and how they are like wine in a cup. He could be referring to a bar, maybe where he sees her for the first time. Maybe she is the bar maiden. When he talks about a kiss on the cup, and I'll not look for wine, maybe Johnson is trying to let us know that he has or had a drinking problem, and now he quite his habit.

Part Three--oh dear.

You Leave for Two Years, and they start Moving Things Around . . .

Pepper's Pizza is moving down Franklin Street to the old Miami Subs location. Quote from the Carolina Alumni Review: "Management would provide no details about decor for the new location."

Slaughterhouse Five and Luau--hard to beat.

I have a feeling only Chapel Hillians will understand the significance of this post.

Lost

We missed the one about Locke last week, but caught the surpassingly strange one this week. What was that all about?? It seemed like a Twilight Zone episode!

When Piers has no car

he takes his bike. Well, there are two bikes in the garage, but since it's a commute, Piers decides this morning that he'll take the Wal-Mart beater bike. Fine, but the front wheel needs more air. Okay. push the plastic thingy onto the valve. Won't engage. Try again. Still no luck. Better pull it off and try again. Pull. Won't come off. Pull harder. Still won't come off. Wiggle, pull, wiggle pull. Oh, for heaven's sake. Pull really hard. Pop! Whooosh! Out comes the whole valve from the tube, and I've now got a completely flat front tire.

I took the fancy bike today.

W will class this with the shirt & washing machine episode, and others that I can't remember right now.

Taxes

Well, I'll say: TaxAct is awesome. We calculated and filed our taxes last night. . . took less than an hour. . . and it was free, free, free!

And for the first time in our married life, we're getting a major refund. That's also cool.

Holy Smoke!

A literary feud, which I love (albiet in the 1590's), between two writers I love (who are actually both still alive)! link.

Robert Burton on the RSA

a good thought for this past weekend:

Praestat dentiscalpia radere, quam literariis monumentis magnatum favorem emendicare. It would be better to make toothpicks, than by literary labours to try and get the favour of the great.

Anatomy of Melancholy, pt. 1, sect. 2, memb. 3, subs. 15

HAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHA *breathe* HHAAAAAHAHAA

Who's giving this guy advice?

Piers on the Road Vol 3

Number of scarily smart presenters in the last session: 2

Number of bikini and/or miniskirt-clad hotel guests mingling with the drab-suits-and-glasses crowd in the lobby: about 10 in the past five minutes

Number of affordable places for lunch: 2. Checker's and BK Lounge, which means: 1, since there's no sharpness of hunger that could make me go to BK Lounge.

Number of dollars I would have to spend to eat at the "Bistro" here in the hotel: $20

Number of chicken wings I ate last night: 12

Piers on the Road Vol. 2

I would just like to say that I will consider this a successful conference if I'm not killed in a fiery crash while navigating South Florida freeways.

Oh, and $30 a day for parking? I will have paid more in parking fees than I paid to rent the $*#@ car.

Saw some friends from Carolina, so that has been nice. It's strange to run into people whose books you have read and even cited in your academic work. They never quite look like you'd expect. Well, they look like you'd expect an english professor to look, but there's always the matter of height, or hair, or something.

I hope they pull out the coffee urns soon.

Piers on the road

Starting Wednesday, Piers will be travelling to, or sojourning in, Miami. Will catch up with old friend from college. Will deliver paper at Renaissance Society of America Annual Conference. Will meet up with some friends from grad school. Will return absolutely drained--on Sunday night.

Adventures with Students, Vol. 3

or, "Google skillz"

I had one student who tried to pass off material from Wikipedia as her own work a couple of weeks ago. She had been having trouble with her paper, and though I had repeatedly suggested that she come to my office to talk it over, she eschewed that option. Well, I thought it couldn't hurt to be kind, so after I read over that first essay, I brought her in and explained in detail what she had done wrong, how this kind of plagiarism isn't a good idea, etc.

Fast-forward two weeks, after the take-home midterm and essay rewrites have been turned in. Sure enough, she has learned her lesson. She didn't use Wikipedia or Sparknotes. . . she found really obscure websites to copy her material from! What an improvement! After we had a face-to-face conversation about it, too, which I found a little surprising. Is this
a) stupidity;
b) laziness; or
c) an insult?

I'm tempted to call it a staggering case of "b." Either way, though, she's going down.

Little Boy has a bike too

Scott Speedster S50, first ride

Early Spring in Martin

It's as if this is the stretch and the yawn before we all come fully awake. . .















. . . I know they're just pear blossoms, but seeing them means it's time to get up, get out. It'll soon be green. The town seems to slumber from November through February; we all step out of doors in March, rubbing our eyes and taking in the sunshine, becoming blessedly reaquainted with the smell of the earth in the back yard.

(think I like green?)

Irony.

Let it not be said that I appreciate it not.

Last Saturday: spent upwards of $1200 for a road bike and various accoutrements (gotta have accoutrements!!)

Sunday through Wednesday: on the road; sightseeing in and around Asheville, NC; driving the entire width of Tennessee on the way home.

Thursday, Friday, Saturday: bike and equipment ready to go! Temperature plummets into the 40's! Rain and wind!

Next Wednesday through Sunday: Piers in Miami at the Renaissance Society of America annual meeting.

Brand-new bike will be gathering cobwebs.

A comment on the weather

Seems like a good day to ride a bike!

Sonnet 129

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action: and till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight;
Past reason hunted; and no sooner had,
Past reason hated, as a swallowed bait,
On purpose laid to make the taker mad.
Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest to have extreme;
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind a dream.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
--Wm. Shakespeare

Wow. Glad I'm not at Savannah State.

Institutional hostility to religious practices? check.

Vague speech code used punitively at administrative will? check.

Violation of First Amendment? check.

Exercise of raw coercive power? check.

link.

Choices, Choices

I'm going to drop several c-notes on a bike this weekend. The Question is, which one shall I choose?

This one?:












Or this one?:

"Duke Basketball, A Class Act"

So when we're getting shellacked, we'll just have one of our players slug Hansbrough in the face, probably breaking his nose. Why anyone admires this team, its school, or its coach, I'll never know.

Duke 72, UNC 86. I hope it hurts them bad.

UPDATE: No broken nose, just a lot of blood. Still looked like a cheap shot to me, though.

UPDATE #2: Nose is broken. Cheap shot. Whining by Coach Rat doesn't change a d*** thing.

Casualties

Good things, that come of course, far less do please
Then those, which come by sweet contingencies.
--Herrick

Astrophil and Stella #47

What, have I thus betray'd my liberty?

Can those black beams such burning marks engrave

In my free side? or am I born a slave,

Whose neck becomes such yoke of tyranny?

Or want I sense to feel my misery?

Or sprite, disdain of such disdain to have,

Who for long faith, though daily help I crave,

May get no alms but scorn of beggery?

Virtue awake, beauty but beauty is;

I may, I must, I can, I will, I do

Leave following that, which it is gain to miss.

Let her go! Soft, but here she comes. Go to,

Unkind, I love you not. Oh me, that eye

Doth make my heart give to my tongue the lie.

Adventures With Students, Vol. 2

Subtitle: "Sometimes Things Work"

Below is an end-of-class assessment written by one of my students:

This progressive [sic] idea that man is striving towards virtue seems to be an ongoing theme. I really enjoyed Astrophil and Stella so much I read it straight through twice. I am learning a lot about sonnet form and wit in general. Sidney does not write haphazardly and I enjoy the small details that bring in these larger ideas.

Read it straight through twice!

Pamphilia to Amphilanthus #15

Your sight is all the food I do desire;
Then sacrifice me not in hidden fire,
Or stop the breath which did your praises move:

Think but how easy 'tis a sight to give;
Nay ev'n desert; since by it I do live,
I but chameleon-like would live, and love.
(9-14)

For Blakbuzzrd

Songs sampled by Daft Punk. link.

Carbon! We gots your carbon!

I don't really have a dog in this fight, but I do think it's great for a laugh.

The Gores used about 191,000 kilowatt hours in 2006, according to bills reviewed by The Associated Press.

I mean, dang. That's a lot of power.

Adventures with Faculty, Vol. 1

I am teaching "Honors" composition in the Fall, which means I'll be teaching the brightest first year students we have. I'm also at a total loss in terms of planning the class, because I've not been at all satisfied with either 111 (first-semester comp) class I've taught so far. I'm sharing the 111H duties with a colleague who's been here a lot longer than I, and she wants to 'collaborate.'

Oh lord. She caught me in the office yesterday, expressing her excitement about teaching a bunch of southern writers on 'the family.' Not my cup of tea, exactly. So when she asks me how many novels and plays I'm planning on teaching, I say, "none." I go on to explain that I was trained to teach composition classes more focused on writing than reading, so I use short stories and essays if anything. Her response:

Oh, these are the brightest students we have. You should challenge them--they can handle it. Give them lots of reading, make them rise to the occasion. They'll complain, but they will get it. So the reading, ah, the reading! We should collaborate on a set of short stories.

My face assumes, I imagine, a stonier complexion the longer this monologue goes on. I duck out as soon as I can get away. But there'll be no easy escape: I just received her 'draft' course description by email.

Adventures with Students, Vol. 1

In my 1:00 survey class, I have a student who has a great attitude but a lousy ability to read social signals. He's enthusiastic, sharp, but unfortunately looks a lot like a cheeto-dusted compulsive World of Warcraft player, if you know what I mean. He talks a lot, which he probably shouldn't, and here's a perfect case in point from yesterday:

I'm waxing eloquent (or something) about the 'hunt' conceit in one of Wyatt's sonnets, and in a fit of levity I happen to mention something about calling the cops, stalking, etc. This student picks up the cue, and blurts out this gem:

Well, you only get about three years for stalking!

It took me a few minutes to restore order, as he continued to talk in a vain attempt to explain himself. Dude, just turn on the filter, K?

Piers Returns

. . . with two new series!

Adventures with Faculty, and
Adventures with Students.

. . . and they'll start off pretty good, I think

Argh

I've had a cold for three weeks

It's too cold to not wear a jacket in the morning, but too warm to wear a jacket in the afternoon

Sunshine? What's that?

S. A. D. is for real

No football

Can't even think of material for this supererogation

I hate February.

I'm not activist, but I could get that way about stuff like this

Read especially the portion down at the end of the article. See if you can name the part that would make Orwell roll over in his grave.

Life with a Toddler, Vol. 26

We were in the nursery yesterday watching the two-year olds during church. Actually, we were in The Little Boy's classroom, so it was him and five other urchins. I stand watching The Little Boy play on a rocking contraption with a little girl named Emma, when all of a sudden he plants a kiss right on her lips! And then they get on the floor, and he drapes his arm around her back and they're whispering sweet nothings!

Son, not the football coach's daughter! I swear, he didn't learn that behavior from me!

Life with a Toddler, Vol. 25

We have an announcement. Late last week, The Little Boy decided it was time for Thomas and Elmo underwear. As of today, we've gone 3 or 4 straight days without a single accident. Both 'numbers,' if you know what I mean.

Life With a Toddler, Vol. 24

Last night, as Piers is changing his shirt, the following words from The Little Boy:

"Look at that big tummy!"

what's that, buddy?

"Daddy, you got big tummy!"

(W laughing uproariously)

"Mommy, see that big tummy?"

thanks a lot, kid.

AAAIIIEEEE

Everybody hit the store for bread and milk!

It was a Long Hard Slog

But I finally finished Pullman's Amber Spyglass. It took me about five tries to gather up the gumption to finish the blasted book, mainly because it just made me tired. Talk about landing with a dull thud--it's as if he forgot how to write an interesting story, opting instead for polemic. It's not even allegorical or all that symbolic. All the fascinating innovations he creates in the first couple of books? thud. And the banal, peurile ending . . . I know that many academics are enthralled with the series, particularly in its "daring" anti-religious tone and its clever ties to Milton, but their infatuation doesn't make it good, or, in the end, even readable.

Brr-rr-rr

Unexpected Weekend

W's grandmother passed away this past week after a long, painful illness. The family has gathered in San Antonio this weekend for a memorial service.

Piers and The Little Boy are remaining in West Tennessee; we will hope the house stays in one piece.

This is the One Thing I'm going to say about the Duke Debacle

Fun game: I'll give you two quotes. Which one is from a January 23, 2007 speech given by Peter Lange, the provost of Duke University, and which one is from a February 9, 1588 sermon given by Richard Bancroft, future Archbishop of Canterbury?

Number 1:

In respect of their conversation they are said to be humble and lowly in outward show, but yet of nature very contentious and unquiet, doting about questions and strife of words: whereof cometh envy, strife, railings, and evil surmisings. Their mouths do speak proud things and swelling words of vanity: likewise dangerous things. The are bold and stand in their own conceit: they despise government and fear not to speak eveil of them that are in dignity and authority. . . . they are libellers, and do speak evil of those things which they know not.

Number 2:

As we are all aware blogs and email have 'democratized' communication; anyone with access to a computer can get in the game as writer or spectator. In many ways this is a good thing, for it reduces the elitism of 'publication' and the control of opinion by opinion 'sellers.' Nonetheless, this 'democracy' is also permissive of saying almost anything, about almost anyone or anything, using any language, no matter how distasteful, disrespectful, or dismissive. . . . any reading of the rhetoric, and of the blogger and email traffic, on all sides of the lacrosse case, however, makes clear that at many times such self-awareness, not to speak of self-restraint, has given way to a speech intended not to clarify but to embarrass, punish, demean, or humiliate . . . these criticisms are often couched in language that reflects profound disrespect not only for the faculty member but for the university.

Bureaucrats are bureaucrats, I guess. I'm put in mind of a rant of Louis Menand's at MLA of a couple of years ago where he said, in effect, those folks who aren't as smart as we should shut up, sit down, and know to listen when their betters are talking. Some things don't change.

Life With a Toddler, Vol. 23

The Little Boy has discovered the flugelhorn. You didn't know Piers had a flugelhorn, did you? Well, here it is. The Little Boy alternately calls it his “tuba” or his “trumpet.” We tried to get him to say “flugelhorn,” but it came out something like “fufflhomm.”

The Big New Development around here

Our Rural King moved. Yes, now instead of driving all the way across town, we can procure our horse deworming kits, our bird feeders, our John Deere schlock, our tractor batteries, our baling wire, our weed & feed, and our meat saws by simply driving around the corner! We went to check it out on Saturday night, and the whole town must have been in there sampling the free popcorn.

BIG time news

W received some mind-boggling news yesterday. She drove to Jackson to meet with a therapist with whom she's partnering in a recent 'situation' at our church. She of course is more or less lay-counseling since she isn't licensed, and everyone's aware of that fact (an important legal consideration, natch)

Well, when she met with P, the therapist, he more or less offered her a paid internship* by which she can work toward her state license, have liability coverage, and get licensed supervision so that all her hours count. Now, she had never met the man before, and he basically met her with the offer. She thought they were going to talk about the clients!

Coming from CH, where W had to scratch and pull and strain to get even a modicum of help with her degree, where she payed upwards of $80 per hour of supervision, where the average response to her repeated requests was "eh? How old are you? You expect what now?" . . . this is a thunderbolt out of the blue. It'll force us to make a few decisions, but we are thrilled.

(*by "paid," I mean, she gets a percentage of the hourly rate he would charge his clients. She won't be raking in the dough by any means, but it'll pay for gas at least.)

Now *this* will make you sick to your stomach

On my Ghomepage, I read the following headline from the Washington Post:

"2008 Presidential Race Heats Up"

Lord, have mercy. We're not even out of January yet.

Life With a Toddler, Volume 22

He doesn't like haircuts, even when done by a professional:

Despite the thundercloud on his brow, he didn't fuss even once. Mr. M must have some magic in that comb.

Life with a Toddler, Vol. 21

We've had some trouble adjusting to the new bed, so on occasion we don't exactly stay in it all night. This is the result--one of the most pitiful things you can imagine:

Asleep, at about 9:30 pm, on the floor outside his door. Note that at least he brought Elmo.

Vanderbilt U

Total time spent in the library at Vanderbilt University since Thursday, Jan. 11: 20 hours.

I sure do miss having a good library.

More Spam names

This is fun! It's like making those Shakesperaean insults! (these are from W's gmail account):

Equalizer O. Adjournments
Tinderbox P. Necking
Incorrigibility M. Mumbled
Subplot S. Merits
Harelips A. Debris
Wristwatch K. Amputations
Lubricating A. Saccharin

2 Comments About that Alleged BCS Championship

First, it's been a go-oo-ood year to be a Gator fan.

Second, did the Big Ten lay an egg in the major bowls this year, or what?

MLA Report A

Thoughts on reading the Report from the "MLA Task Force on Evaluating Scholarship for Tenure and Promotion":

Good ideas buried and blunted in a document that reads very much like something that came out of an institutional committee. I have a lot of respect for John Guillory, both personally and professionally (especially since sitting under him at a Folger seminar a couple of years ago and after hearing him make an appeal along these same lines at MLA 2004), and I have appreciated Berube's words about the committee's intentions. I neither know nor have read anything by the other members of the committee. I believe they tried to do the right thing. Still, the firecrackers in here are pretty much smothered by committee-eese.

The most important things to come out of this report, in my mind:
1. Reevaluating the relative value of the monograph versus the article
2. Attempting to accommodate scholarly work in multiple formats and venues
3. Removing the amorphous "collegiality" criterion for tenure--a notion ripe for abuse, as several recent cases can attest
4. A reevaluation of the shape and purpose of the dissertation (i.e., perhaps everyone's not writing an embryonic monograph. see: Piers.)

This last point would have multiple ramifications, especially in tandem with the first point.

The problem, and the authors of the report somewhat lamely gesture toward it, is that the only way reform can take place is if top-level institutions (Ivy League schools, the top state institutions) adopt the recommendations. But I'm not sure what their incentive is, since current practices have served and continue to serve them quite well. If Berkeley or Harvard refuses to engage reform, then there's certainly no incentive for UNC or Duke to do so, and if they don't, then the UT system, where I work, certainly won't.

Points 19 and 20 in the summary recommendations say things like "The task force encourages discussion of. . . " and "Departments should undertake a comprehensive review. . . " Wow, calm down there, folks. Don't want to get too overheated! I recognize the report for what it is: it has multiple audiences, and certainly the priorities at this institution (where I work) are not and should not be the same as those at Indiana or Stanford. Still, reform is by its very nature hard to get going.

And since I left my annotated copy of the report at home, I'll have to close with this. To those of you who could not possibly care less about what the MLA does or doesn't say, my apologies. Carry on.

Ah, the trials of college

Here's an email (name deleted) from a student who got a C in my class this semester:

I still haven't heard back from you since my last e-mail. I know it's a lot to ask but if I was able to do some extra credit to pull off a B it would be great. I have just found out that my GPA might hold me back from being initiated. This is a problem because the reason my GPA was poor this semester was because of pledging and I feel this is a whole semester wasted. I hope you understand and hope to hear back from you.

Won't be initiated because pledging made you a C student?? Feel like you wasted a semester? Now that's a compelling reason for a grade change!

Waaaaaaah!

When entitlement meets Cry-zewski, this is what you get. I guarantee you that had they won that game (where was Redick The Wonder-Boy??), this wouldn't be an issue.

Duke's student senate voted last month to bar Chapel Hill's Robertson scholars from Krzyzewskiville, saying their actions ruined the game for many Duke students last season.

Cry me a river. How pathetic. Next they'll try to ban ALL Carolina supporters from Duke-UNC games held in Cameron.

Hmmm. . . any mention of University of New Jersey-Durham gets my knickers in a twist. Must be basketball season!

Course Evals

Comments from course evals:

I cannot write a paper to save my life but he really helped me to understand how to do not as badly.

Hated Paradise Lost. Too much God stuff.

Short essay good, long essay bad.

Thanks, Uncle D

It's been a while since I posted a picture, so:

Back at work, happy new year and all that

• How about the end of that Boise St. - Oklahoma game? How about W and Piers going to bed after the OU interception with a minute to go in the game? How about W and Piers missing the most exciting finish to a bowl game in recent memory?

• Chilling, because she says "coercion," and because the movement has legs. Get ready to defend your sody pop, oreos and fried chicken with your life!
  

• I'm making it a point to read through the MLA's report on tenure, etc. I'll be curious to see the actual substance of the report rather than the Inside Higher Ed or Chronicle summaries. More comment to follow. I also note that they're moving the meetings to after January 2. Great idea, especially since Piers and W celebrate their anniversary on Dec. 28.

• Little Boy Report: Quoting parts of books like The Little Engine that Could (favorite with Pappy) and Percy's Chocolate Crunch (favorite with Honey) from memory. And he can 'read' Not a Box all the way through, R & S.
  

It's done; which is our response to be?

Hic semper tyrannus

or

Kyrie eleison

?

Super Spam Name of the Day

message from: "Toil J. Barbarian"

I mean, how can you not read that email?

Ten Years

We have been married for ten years--our anniversary was yesterday. How is that possible? So very thankful to have been given this time.

In Which Piers Shuts Off the Computer for a While

Tomorrow, Piers and family leave for the Grand Christmas Tour. The semester is over, so grade complaints can now start. What a good time to leave town!

examblogging

Here I am, standing in front of my Brit Lit Survey students while they take their exam. The best part about giving these is watching the body language. Some are methodical test-takers--they plan out their answers, write slowly, seem calm. Others expostulate with themselves under their breath, roll their eyes, glance up a lot. Some write with their noses practically on the desk, while others almost recline (inasmuch as they can, in these wretched 'desks' we make college students sit in). Lots of cracking of knuckles, chewing of gum, stretching of writing hands. The women run their fingers through their hair or play with their ponytails. Some folks write the whole exam with their jacket on.

This is a bittersweet moment--some students I'm perfectly fine to see go, but there are others who are a joy to teach, and I probably won't see them again. There are also those who would have benefited from my help if they'd been willing to take it. Some I tried hard to help, but they proved impervious to my efforts, and I wonder what else I could have done. A few I'll see again, which is a new pleasure for me in this job: to follow students through an academic career, teaching them multiple times and each time with new (usually more sophisticated) material.

Whoa. Someone just asked herself a question, thought of the answer, nodded in the affirmative, then authoritatively wrote it down.

After waking up at 3 am today

I am prepared to make the following observation: You remember when you were a child, and woke up sick in the middle of the night, and your parents were so efficient, comforting, in control of the situation?

lies! all lies!

They were actually completely unaware of what day of the week it was, or even of the name of their spouse. They probably had a splitting headache and felt like they had Honeybaked Hams for hands.

Thank goodness for the interwebs

Ah, mockery. Food for the weary soul.

You gotta read the commentary on the cover for Gaddis' The Recognitions. Link.

In Which Piers Wonders What This Guy is Thinking

This morning, I returned the paper to that guy who'd obviously either copied or bought a paper (the one in APA style with sources we don't have in our library). Wanting to see what he'd say, I call him out in the hall . . .

Okay, now, I've got a question--this doesn't seem like your work. It's not, is it?

Not exactly.

Because this is your first term, I'm going to give you a break here. If you turn in something by Friday that is your own work, I'll not give you the zero that you're going to get.

Well, this zero is worth five percent, right?

Right. But let me explain that you really need to not do this--I'm giving you a chance to make it right, but if you do it again, your professor will nail your butt to the wall.


(Student shows signs of agitation; lip quivering) now wait a minute--I didn't plagiarize; they wrote it for me.

(klaxons going off in Piers' head) But see, that's worse! You just can't go around buying papers! I'm trying to help you out here, but it's your choice. Alright?

(sullenly) alright.

Geez. I don't want to deal with this sh!te. I just want these yahoos (this guy, and two others in my other class) to go away. On the bright side, at least I can say that I've been passed a 'bought paper.'

Best News Story of the Day

Link. I'm sure Dave Barry, and the Fark, is all over this one.

Update: I was right.

Oh, hooray.

New York City has 'banned' Trans Fats. Reminds me of that Simpsons episode (#818, "Homer vs. the Eighteenth Amendment") where Marge decides that the town needs to ban alcohol: Homer becomes a "Beer Baron," making the liquor in the basement of his house and transferring it secretly to Moe's Tavern.

I can see it now: Cars coming into Manhattan stopped and checked for Krispy Kremes! Clandestine "blubber-easies" where folks can get their secret fix of margarine! Stockpiled Oreos! A run on saltine crackers! KFC biscuits? None for you, Mr. Heart-Disease-Ticking- Timebomb! McDonald's will probably start greasing the palms of the Trans-Fat Inspectors--or better yet, they can just arrange for the UN (who, after all, has its headquarters right in town) to arrange for inspection of "suspected trans-fat sites," thereby assuring that there'll be no enforcement at all!

Next thing you know, they'll be coming for the sody-pop and the beer. Causes flabby thighs, beer goggles, and bad breath, you know.

talk about your good choices

Eleven years ago today (!) I asked her to marry me.

Is it possible the time can pass that quickly? I still remember the first time I laid eyes on her.

It's a Monday

W woke up cranky, because Sidney and Simon and Piers nearly crowded her out of the bed last night.

The Little Boy woke up really cranky, because he doesn't feel well. He had a full-fledged fit when Piers tried to change him out of his PJ's this morning. Then he wanted to sit in my lap and have me hold him--even though I had to get to work.

Piers has a splitting headache and some numbskulls for students. The latest paper for one student features 6 resources we don't have in our library, and is documented extensively & perfectly in APA style.

Today's car care report: one oil change, one new battery, and four new tires.

And it's cold.

Life with a Toddler, Vol. 20

Tonight, we sent The Little Boy to bed after his dinner, and we ate late. We were just sitting, talking over the novelty of a quiet dinner, when I hear a sound from the hallway indicating that The Little Boy has opened his bedroom door yet again (for the third time or so). I go back to investigate, flicking on the hall light as I walk toward his room.

What should greet me but a stark naked Little Boy, standing in his doorway with a little wet spot on the carpet. Trying not to laugh out loud, I call for W. She walks back and bursts into laughter.

What are you doing, buddy?

I took dipow off. I teetee on fwoor.

You took your diaper off and you tee-teed on the floor?

Yessrr

Where is tee-tee supposed to go?

Potty

Do you want to go tee-tee in the potty?

Yessrr

So off we go, while W gathers up the discarded diaper and the shed pajamas. We clothe him, tuck him back in bed, and tell him to stay put. Then we return to finish our dinner.

yippee skippee

I got a hot pepper on ratemyprofessors.com

This is awesome.

Check it out.

BTW, Go Heels.

Okay, I'm willing to go a certain distance, but really.

This is an email that came across "swapshop," our campus e-flea market. Look at the bottom for the punchline.

Posting for my brother-in-law. Please respond to email address below if interested.

I have a Nintendo Wii. I bought it from toysrus.com and it just came in the mail. It is one of the bundle sets that came with games so here is a list of what is included:

console
1 remote
1 nunchuck
256 memory card
stand/organizer
sensor bar
all cords and cables
7 games
sports disk game(comes with system)
zelda
madden 07
call of duty 3
mavel Ultimate alliance
monkey ball
tony hawk DownHill Jam

asking $925.00

meh. gots nuthin

• Good Thanksgiving, though The Little Boy did manage to fall and bust his lip pretty good. A trip to the ol' Emergency Room assured us that he's fine.
  
  
• Thanks to all the grandparents for making it a good time.
  
  
• It's 65 degrees today. Tomorrow morning it'll be about the same. Tomorrow night: in the 30's and headed downwards.
  
  
• Irritation: The woman whose office is next to mine is the most supercilious, condescending english teacher I've ever been around. In her world, anyone who hasn't attained her level of education clearly shouldn't ever be expected to know anything of value or even have the ability to reason morally. Example: today she referenced the manager of our campus bookstore by saying that the woman has no college degree, so she probably doesn't even know there's such a thing as the New York Times bestseller list. It's obviously this woman's fault that though managed by Barnes & Noble, our campus bookstore doesn't have a browsing section. And so on, about the way people vote, about textbook and pharmaceutical companies, about gun control--each conversation is a new harangue. And never mind what she says about the students.
  
  
• The period between Thanksgiving and Christmas Break (or "Winter Break," I guess we're supposed to call it) is a cruel joke: we're supposed to be having a Holly Jolly, but in reality most of us are having a Festival of Fatigue and Crankiness. This is the time of year when all the grand plans for the semester wheeze their last pitiful breath.
  
  
• There is at least one thing I look back on with great satisfaction: in my british literature survey, I had students do in-class summaries/assessments at the end of every period. It allowed me to see what was working and allowed them to write any questions they had. I found it a roaring success. Wondering how to expand this one--any ideas, Blackbuzzard?
  
  
• Lastly, for now, I'm worried about my posture and my face. I've got this feeling that I'm walking around with a look very similar to that on Mike Shula's face: vague worry mixed with a fair measure of "whhaaaa?"
  
  
• Oh, and one more: I'm scared to death of this basketball game tonight.
  

Life With a Toddler, Vol 19. Special "Mom's not home" Edition

One of the things about having a Little Boy around the house: the parents have grown accustomed to constant chatter. This sometimes gets the father in trouble. For instance, while making dinner tonight, I had opened a package of loaf bread and left it sitting on the counter. As I busy myself with the stove, I hear behind me a little voice: "oooh, brrreaaaaaad!" By the time this registers--bread? Why is he commenting about the br--and I turn around, he has already taken two big bites out of a slice, and he's standing there looking at me, appreciatively chewing away.

I guess it's bread for dinner, then.

Shakespearean Insult of the day

Thou spongy full-gorged pignut!

Missing Friends

On Saturday, W and I watched a videotape from last year around this time, labeling its contents. It was from The Little Boy's first birthday and other doings. The most poignant part in a considerably poignant exercise was seeing and hearing footage from our trip to Chicago. I especially enjoyed hearing Blakbuzzard's comment on the sloth: "awwww yeah, that's what I'm talking about."

Some people come to occupy places in one's heart that time, space, and circumstance cannot shake or alter. Thank you, Buzzard and Hambone, for being irreplaceable, even if it means a stab of the bittersweet every now and then.

In Which Piers Dreads his Gradebook

Ah, late November . . . when one sees the last leaves falling from the trees, the frost nipping the shrubs in the back yard, the absences piling up in the gradebook.

It's painful to see promising students fall off the wagon. I've got two or three students that will fail their composition course because they just stopped coming. One of them was extremely promising--or at least talked a good game. The other two were going to get by (one of whom is already taking this class for the second time, if that tells you anything). I don't want to hand out those F's, but they've left me no choice.

Convalescing

Having caught a Catarrh from The Little Boy, I spent the entire weekend at home, sleeping and reading and playing (gently) with said Little Boy. W attended to a couple of social calls, but I was unable to get up and out. It gets this time of year, and I tend to be overly vulnerable to Agues, Rheums, and various other Afflictions.

Here's the thing about weekends like this: I am so much better afterward, and not just physically. The work I'm involved in is pleasurable in just about every aspect (grading papers notwithstanding), but it wears me out. Furthermore, each week offers two or three other activities that I feel the need to attend or participate in. Part of it is a sense of responsibility, but part of it is also my desire to be a full member of this community. Going to concerts, plays, lectures, sporting events, and church functions is important because it shows that I care about the people and the institutions around me.

But it drains me severely, and at times I find myself wishing for nothing more than to be left alone "in foul weather at my book to sit," as Wyatt says. My soul needs that time, but accommodating that need without feeling like I'm shirking my responsibilities--that's tough.

Anyway, the Affliction this weekend was actually a good thing--it gave me the time I neeeded.

Birthday Music

The new album from Hem arrived in the mail on Friday--one of a couple of purchases I indulged in upon getting a little disposable income for the birthday (thanks to Grammie and Pappy). I've listened through it a couple of times, and I've got a couple of comments.

1. If you'd told me, when I entered grad school, that I would not only listen to but actively seek out this type of music, I'd have laughed in your face.
2. The last couple of albums this group has put out begin with beautiful, autumnal songs. And their frequent use of clarinet, bells, string arrangements makes it even more striking. This is music for cold, quiet evenings.
3. Thanks to R & S for introducing us to "Rabbit Songs."
4. When I imported the CD into iTunes, the "Genre" came up "Unclassifiable." Apt description, I think. Maybe "Americana"? And the good thing, this album isn't just more of the same--it's like, but unlike, the earlier albums.

This is a band of true musicians. If you've got the cash, and don't mind country/folk-tinged "grown-up" music, you won't regret the purchase.

10K

I'm happy to report that W won 3rd place in her age division in the Reelfoot 10-k over the weekend! That means she's placed in every race she's run this year--while pushing an extra 35 pounds in a stroller. I don't know about y'all, but I'm amazed that she can do stuff like that, especially when it's windy and cold--40 degrees cold. We're going to have to find a spot in the house for all her trophies. . . they're beginning to pile up.

How NOT to recruit English Majors

We had a "reception" today to recruit some majors for our department--major recruitment is a big watchword these days. I told some of my promising students that it'd be a meet-n-greet, no big deal. Well, I walk over about 20 minutes into what I thought was a relaxed education, and I discover that professor after professor is giving a little 'blurb' about this or that.

Boy, nothing like recruiting students by subjecting them to more droning by their professors. What would be wrong with a welcome, a handshake or two, and some free brownies? What made anyone think that the students would want to sit in a dim room listening to speechifying when they've already been in class all day?

Life with a Toddler, Vol. 18

Voting Day yesterday. We had to go with Jonathan, so when we arrived at the church, we told him we had to go vote. His reactions: "I mote too!" When we were done, we asked him who he voted for.

"I mote for the trees, I mote for fire chief, I mote for trains."

Pinoy Joke!

Thanks to the Fark, and in honor of our family gathering this past weekend, I present a Monday Pinoy Joke:

"What is this?" (make your hand do a squid like motion to the right)
"Pusit"
Yes! Now make your hand do a squid like motion to the left.
"What is this?"
"Op-pusit"

galing na galing!

From today's CFP list

Now here's a journal issue everyone will want to read. I love being an academic, especially when our work makes the world a better place!

"Membranous Topographies"

Special issue of *Discourse: **Journal for Theoretical Studies in Media and
Culture ***

An upcoming issue of *Discourse* will examine the ways in which membranes
both expand and delimit the operation of frontiers, borders, and margins by
engaging the interplay between permeability and impermeability. These
literal and figurative membranes also suggest the return of the corporeal or
the animal, thereby inviting reflection on questions of visuality, disease,
third spaces, and sexuality, among others. For example, what happens to
the viability of the membrane when it is radically crossed, probed,
inhabited, or violated? *Discourse* seeks articles that address the
membrane's movement of crossing over or translating through the realms of
literary, filmic, and other modes of cultural production, in addition to
law, politics, history, philosophy, queer and gender studies,
psychoanalysis, interdisciplinary studies, physics, M-theory, etc.