Spectral Season

D. and I drove over to Marcellus this afternoon to take in one of Ph.’s last
soccer matches of the fall.  I can’t overstate the value of getting off
campus, winding through the CNY countryside this time of year.  Several
amazing scapes surround on Syracuse’s edges; we turned off at Marcellus Falls
just before arriving at the field.  I probably won’t be able to take in
either of the last two matches (next week), and I still hadn’t snapped any pics
this season, so we had several good reasons to make the 30 minute drive. 

The digital camera’s been on the shelf all fall.  I’ve used it
intermittently–wacky in-house blogabilia, but nothing like I was doing a year
ago when chronicling these
fellas
(#4
nationally
, wtg E. et al.) was my mainstay.  So I dusted of the
electra-kodachrome, shuttered a few moments from today’s match.  Below, two
of my favorites.  More photoshere.

Fun-Hog Vote Favors Kerry

Hunter
S.!

Even the Fun-hog vote has started to swing for John Kerry, and that is a
hard bloc to move. Only a fool would try to run for president without the
enthusiastic support of the Fun-hog vote. It is huge, and always available,
but they will never be lured into a voting booth unless voting carries a
promise of Fun.

[via datacloud
via boingboing]

95

Forgotten?

Ph. brought home an English quiz with a score of 95.  Great.  Just
great.  It was a take-home quiz.  

Instructs: On your paper circle the letter of the word whose meaning is
unrelated to the other words in each set. [No kidding.]

10. (a) forgotten, (b) imagined, (c) conceived, (d) formed

Context: It’s a vocabulary quiz on Edgar Allan Poe’s "The
Tell-Tale Heart."
  Ph.’s answer: A. Marked wrong. Normally I
wouldn’t bring Ph.’s school work here (human-subjects ethics quandary), but in
this case, he’s looking at me distrustfully when I say that I think it’s
mistakenly marked wrong.  I could use some consensus here.  What’s the
answer?

***

More related (and because I’ve been horrible about
keeping family and KC friends updated since we moved to NY): Ph.’s middle school
soccer squad won again tonight, 4-0 over Cortland, lifting their record to 4-5
this season.  They’ve won four of the last five games, and Ph. has scored
goals in each of those five games, accumulating six goals along the way.  I
know, where’d he learn to do that? The last two strikes have been direct kicks
from 30 yards.

Evening grad seminars have kept me from several of these
matches, unfortunately (D.’s able to attend most of them).  And he’s not quick to report on the results.  But for the first time ever, he’s keeping handwritten notes on the refrigerator
schedule–recording W’s and L’s.  From somewhere, in the last year, the record
has started to matter. He’s definitely not high and low according to wins and
losses; admirably even-tempered about the whole thing.

With the Lights On

I just set out to key in a few notes I could post at EWM–say anything about
registering entries less frequently in the weeks ahead, about the mid-semester curve which, now
rounded, reveals three seminar projects with deadlines in clear view, about new
ideas and whatnot, about biking through the lovely
fall weather
we’re having in Syracuse–to a meeting at Ph.’s school, to
campus for CCR732–today’s session on service learning as the latest momentous
shift in composition, then pedaling over to Barry Park after class so Ph.
doesn’t have to walk home from soccer practice alone in the rain. 

To end, Judith Butler’s Excitable Speech wins the mid-semester
prestige of most compelling read (and it helps that it was set up by Austin’s
lectures collected in How to Do Things With Words).  It’s got me
thinking about a whole bunch of stuff; a cloudy project emerging from Davis’s
archisemiotics and performative architecture(s) is now jockeying with my other
half-plan–a stir-pot of Barthes, Saper with a yet-to-be IDed ingredient. 
Still something missing and a heap of reading to take up.  One other
project involving weblogs, and one other project on walled classrooms and their
antitheses, deep cyberia.  And in the upcoming week, it’s Lakoff’s Moral
Politics
, the final bit–on mapping–in Comp in Four Keys, and
selections from Gamsci’s Notebooks.

Fade to air up the tires.

The Grand Unification Theory

Marvelous web zen on mixed
media posted today.  All worth checking out.  Just so my time is not
without relevance to my current project(s), highlights:

  • Jason Salavon’s
    The Grand Unification Theory:
    It’s a [Dark and] Wonderful Life
  • and Herotown:
    Green’s the mightiest bunch
  • Eddie Breen’s Piggyback Art:
    Infectious.  I’m overdue for a fit of Breening with a few things.
  • Jason Kronenwald’s Gum Blondes:
    Jaw muscle exercise, fresh breath, fighting tooth decay, a collaborative
    element and this. Would this be service learning if, say, it involved a
    group effort to chew-tack a cityscape? (Sorry. Reading Deans–Writing
    Partnership
    –on service learning. Seeking stickiness.)
  • I want one of

    these
    .  Just $3200 and I could watch it all day.  Well, for
    sixteen hours.  Pure relaxation.

***

Nota bene: Just noticed quasi-debaucherous links linked from the first link here. Caution!

Stale Art

On my mind–Emig citing Jakobovits.  Any guesses when Jakobovits
likened composition to stale art?:

The linguist Leon A. Jakobovits suggests that "stale art" is
algorithmic–that is, it is produced by a known algorithm, "defined as a
computational device that specifies the order and nature of the steps to be
followed in the generation of a sequence." One could say that the major
kind of essay too many students have been taught to write in American schools
is algorithmic, or so mechanical that a computer could readily be programmed
to produce it: when a student is hurried or anxious, he simply reverts or
regresses to the only program he knows, as if inserting a single card into his
brain.

From Janet Emig’s "Lynn: Profile of a Twelfth-Grade Writer."

Five-Throb Frontal Lobe

 

1. One more conversation about authoritative sources and research via
the i-net. Roughly: "Never use .com sources; prefer .edu or .gov
domains."
2.  Toothache (or some more general category of mouth pain).
3.  How the hell did my copy of Comp in Four Keys (ordered from
half.com and sent with a friendly note from a Big Ten alum) get to be so rotten
smelling? It really stinks.  Pets and smoke and gin-breath-belch. As I
read, the odor makes me wonder whether the person who read it before me reached the end. One of my office mates suggested dashing the smelly book with baby powder. I’m ready to smear on some Vicks vapor rub just to get through this next article.
4.  Read it by tomorrow. Oh, and this too (attachment PDF, 27 pages). And while you’re checking your email–this.
5.  News you won’t find in the sports section of your local paper: I’ve
been playing Friday evening basketball this semester.  Won a pair of three
v. three games on Friday, but I wrenched my lower back so horribly that even
today I can barely pull on socks, tie my shoes, etc. Unofficial status for this
Friday: questionable. Official status when playing competitive basketball
for the rest of my adult life: idiotic.

G.W.B. on Dred Scott

We watched the debate with friends last night, quasi-Superbowl-party
style.  I wasn’t impressed with the town hall model, particularly for the
way is positioned the audience members as dupes–mere question-readers, polite
listeners (to say nothing of the homogeneity of the sample of folks from the St.
Louis metro area).  I know the candidates simply wouldn’t allow for follow
up questions, but what good is a town hall forum if the questions are safely
sanitized (which we can expect in all of the debates) *and* the question-askers
don’t get to ask for clarification, nuance, specificity?  I want answers.

For a few minutes this morning, I’ve been reading these
fine
entries on the
debate.  Good points all around. The two strangest moments of the
debate–for me–were the small business, lumber company setup (Want to buy some
wood?) and the reference to Dred
Scott as
an example of justices failing to perform a "strict" reading of the
U.S. Constitution and instead to render a decision clouded by personal
opinion.  Relative to the Dred Scott reference, the live events in the debate, however, were neither clear nor
understandable as GWB spoke; as I looked back at the transcript
this morning, I thought the record, as formatted with sentence and paragraph
breaks, was generous to the President’s fumbling of "slaves as personal
property" as a matter of "personal opinion":

I would pick somebody who would not allow their
personal opinion to get in the way of the law. I would pick somebody who would
strictly interpret the Constitution of the United States.

Let me give you a couple of examples, I guess, of the
kind of person I wouldn’t pick.

I wouldn’t pick a judge who said that the Pledge of
Allegiance couldn’t be said in a school because it had the words "under
God" in it. I think that’s an example of a judge allowing personal
opinion to enter into the decision-making process as opposed to a strict
interpretation of the Constitution.

Another example would be the Dred Scott case, which is
where judges, years ago, said that the Constitution allowed slavery because of
personal property rights.

That’s a personal opinion. That’s not what the
Constitution says. The Constitution of the United States says we’re all
— you know, it doesn’t say that. It doesn’t speak to the equality of
America.
[emphasis added]

And so, I would pick people that would be strict
constructionists. We’ve got plenty of lawmakers in Washington, D.C.
Legislators make law; judges interpret the Constitution.

And I suspect one of us will have a pick at the end of
next year — the next four years. And that’s the kind of judge I’m going to
put on there. No litmus test except for how they interpret the Constitution.

A few critiques of Bush’s resorting to the Dred Scott case to address his
criteria for justice selections have–as you might expect–already made it to
the blogosphere.  Particularly thoughtful takes turned up here
and here. 
I’m sure the reference to the case was a grab at local resonance (much like
Edwards’ reference to the number of U.N. workers running the Afghanistan
elections as fewer than it would take to setup polling stations in Cleveland);
the judgment about slaves as citizens stemmed from St. Louis some 150 years ago. It resulted from Missouri’s slave-state status set against Illinois, a free state, just across Mississippi River. 

The most ironic aspect of Bush’s reference to the case is that Justice Roger
Taney–in 1857–rendered a judgment against Dred Scott and his fundamental human
rights because–as I understand it–Taney read the U.S. Constitution as a
"strict constructionist," which explains the Fourteenth Amendment
(1868) as a correction to the dangerous mis-applications of constitutional law
along strict, "that’s what the words say" readings of
"property" and "citizenship."  With "strict
constructionist" justices, then, I suppose you get readings of the law that
are so narrow and rigid that constitutional amendments are required to ensure
equal rights for all people.

Batteries, Juice, Middle School

Spent the late afternoon taking in Ph.’s soccer match at Barry Park. 
He’s knocking the ball around for his middle school team–a mix of seventh and
eighth grade soccer players who’ve played seven or eight matches this
fall.  I brought the camera, but it has been idle for some time, so the
batteries had just enough in them to auto focus a time or two before giving me
the blink-alert.  Backup set of AAs: same. No pics.Juice

Before today, the team hadn’t won a match.  They held close in a couple
of one-goal matches, but no wins.  Today–bear with me, I’m gloating–Ph.
chipped in an early goal to put the team up 1-0 against the squad from Mexico,
N.Y.  In the second half, Mexico tied the match, 1-1, and late in the
second half, Ph. broke lose for a long, one v. one run on the right side, which
he capped with a chip shot around the defender and over the keeper’s
head–into the far side of the net.  After the match, I told Ph. that
camera’s batteries were sapped–no pics.  Well, he said, we’ve got pictures
in our minds.  Heh, memory–and a humble attitude on top
of it.  

Afterward.  To the school for Open House Night. Welcome: "Tonight,
you will be your child."  It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to
critique the school or the teachers. He’s surrounded by plenty of good folks doing their best
with a received curriculum.  But two observations.  1) In the
science room, a variety of posters were on theGarfield
walls, but the only recurrent poster–the only one that appeared multiple times,
once per wall–was a spread from the U.S. Army.  On it, "An Army of
One" in big letters along with pro-soldiering action shots, smaller
messages about homeland security, fighting the war on terror, vigilance,
watchfulness.  Today we’ll be using graduated cylinders to determine the
density of a metal nugget. Now march.

2) Music.  Where to begin.  Recurrent poster: Garfield.  It
wasn’t neatly recurrent with only the finicky orange cat.  Odie showed up in a couple of frames, and there were inspirational phrases about hard work and the road to success. 
Lots of instruments in the room, too, huge drums and whatnot.  The curriculum
made me feel like dashing home to give Ph. a hug and kiss on the forehead. 
I would (do) have done horribly in this class.  (Please tell me if I’m
blogging in poor taste now.) Test tomorrow! on the early musical
periods–Antiquity, Middle Ages and Baroque eras. Students will not be allowed
to head to their lockers for their notes.  Antiquity, Middle Ages and
Baroque eras.  Listen: They will know the instruments, important figures,
and so on.  Where to end.