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.