Dave Goes "All Out" for Halloween

While I generally do not partake in costume-wearing at work, I didn't want a repeat of this epic failure and so when Liz K. told me to dress as Hamlet for Halloween, I quickly and congenially agreed (aside from the cape she wanted time to wear-- like Edna says: No capes!) and I really went all-out, I purchased a "Get Thee to a Nunnery" t-shirt on Amazon (which is a big deal for me because I generally do not wear t-shirts with words or slogans on them . . . once my yellow "Mosquito Control" t-shirt disintegrated, I was done with that phase of my life) and so I was one of the "main characters" from the novels and plays we teach-- perhaps you can identify some of the others . . . my wife opted for something less educational, but right on the nose for her: "a rock star."

Virtual School + Halloween Candy = Nap Time

Another wonderful day of online teaching-- accompanied by a proliferation of Halloween candy, which is an unavoidable temptation when you're talking to a screen-- but there was one highlight and I thank my colleagues (and the candid and comical WhatsApp English teacher chat) because they warned me that admin was popping into virtual classes . . . and they weren't popping in at the beginning of class, when they could catch us setting up creative lessons; making Channels and break-out rooms and other virtual groups; communicating instructions clearly, and all that good stuff-- they were popping in for the last five minutes to see if teachers were ending early or teaching online until the bitter end of class . . . so I was prepared and told my students, that had some work to do in the Channels, to come back to the General meeting with five minutes left and-- lo and behold-- an administrator showed up in the waiting room and I let him in while I was teaching the most English teacher thing in the universe in the chat-- MLA format citations and punctuation-- and kids were asking questions on how to cite oddball situations-- quotes within quotes and all that-- and I was demonstrating all this in the chat . . . it was a great moment in American education-- because generally, whenever an administrator walks in your room, virtual or not, even if you've just executed the best lesson in the world, they come in at some weird awkward moment and you get all pissed off that no one ever sees you teaching properly . . . anyway, virtual school still sucked but at least there was one nice moment, and once it was over, I ate a bunch of Halloween candy and took a nap, and now I'm off to the pickelball scouts for my third day in a row-- I miss early morning basketball and I can't believe we did this kind of shit for over a year, I think I've erased most of it from my memory (but luckily it lives on the blog!)

Fuck Driving

My wife and I don't drive much-- we both work close to where we live; we bought a house in a walking town; and we hate being in the car . . . but the past few days have given us a taste of what many Americans do on a daily basis-- my wife drove out to Muhlenberg and back on Thursday evening, so Ian could see his friends and go to some Halloween parties with his girlfriend (apparently kids now wear a different costume for each party . . . I'll try to post some pics, but Alex and his girlfriend were Elvis and Priscilla and then characters from Ratatouille and Ian and Layla were a deer and a hunter, two superheroes, and then Shaggy and Scooby . . . absurd) and then on Friday, Cat and I drove out past Trenton to go to an Italian place for my brother's birthday-- it took an hour to get there-- and then we drove Ian back to school on Saturday (with Layla) and we all did some parent's weekend stuff-- saw some football-- going to a Muhlenberg football game is very low key-- and we watched some Sex Education style a capella singing and then we went to a really good restaurant (Union and Fitch) with Layla and Ian for dinner and then they went out and Cat and I crashed at the Holiday Inn, then I took Ian for an x-ray on his weird ankle injury-- no information, he needs an MRI-- and then we drove the hour-plus home . . . way too much fucking driving, I hate being in the car, it stresses me out, makes me sick--I have to drive and chew gum-- and when I get out my knees and hips hurt . . . but I don't even have to do my twelve-minute commute this week because I'm on virtual school because of the water main break in my high school, so I won't have to drive anywhere this week, which will be wonderful.

Book List 2022

Here are the books I finished (possibly with some skimming) this year . . . I started plenty of others and quit them because . . . well because I wanted to . . . that's what's great about reading-- if you've got access to a library, you aren't beholden to any particular book:

1) Depth of Winter by Craig Johnson

2) Lazarus Volumes 1-6

3) Fuzz: When Nature Breaks the Law by Mary Roach

4) Kindness Goes Unpunished by Craig Johnson

5) The Extended Mind: The Power of Thinking Outside the Brain by Annie Murphy Paul

6) The Given Day by Dennis LeHane

7) Live by Night by Dennis LeHane

8) A Little History of the World by Ernst Gombrich

9) Leviathan Wakes by James S. A. Corey

10) Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr

11) Caliban's War by James A. Corey

12) Batman: The Long Halloween by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale

13) The Nineties by Chuck Klosterman

14) Tochi Onyebuchi's Goliath

15) We Are Never Meeting in Real Life by Samantha Irby

16) Abbadon's Gate by James S.A. Corey

17) The Paradox Hotel by Rob Hart

18) The Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel

19) One-Shot Harry by Gary Philips

20) The Last Days of Roger Federer and Other Endings by Geoff Dyer

21) The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity by David Graeber and David Wengrow

22) Cibola Burn by James S.A. Corey

23) The Pioneers: The Heroic Story of the Settlers Who Brought the American Ideal West by David McCullough

24) Harrow by Joy Williams

25) The Quick and the Dead by Joy Williams

26) Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead

27) The Foundling  by Ann Leary

28) Ghettoside: A True Story of Murder in America by Jill Leovy

29) Fugitive Telemetry: The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells

30) Crossroads by Jonathan Franzen

31) Last Orgy of the Divine Hermit by Mark Leyner

32) The Rise and Fall of the Neoliberal Order: America and the World in the Free Market Era by Gary Gerstle

33) Tracy Flick Can't Win by Tom Perrotta

34) Dark Matter by Blake Crouch

35) Nemesis Games by James S.A. Corey

36) The Daughter of Doctor Moreau by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

37) The Island of Dr. Moreau by H.G. Wells

38) City on Fire by Don Winslow

39) Happy-Go-Lucky by David Sedaris

40) what if? SERIOUS SCIENTIFIC ANSWERS to Absurd Hypothetical Questions by Randall Monroe

41) Enemy of All Mankind: A True Story of Piracy, Power, and History's First Global Manhunt by Stephen Johnson

42) The Storyteller: Tales of Life and Music by Dave Grohl

43) The Tomorrow Game: Rival Teenagers, Their Race For a Gun, and The Community United to Save Them by Sudhir Venkatesh

44) Lord of Misrule by Jaimy Gordon

45) A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter Miller

46) Blacktop Wasteland by S.A. Cosby

47) Razorblade Tears by S.A. Cosby

48) Liberation Day by George Saunders

49) Upgrade by Blake Crouch

50) Carrie Soto is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid

51) Adrift: America in 100 Charts by Scott Galloway

52) Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World by Cal Newport

53) Pines by Blake Crouch

54) The Rise and Reign of the Mammals by Steve Brusatte

55) Lapvona by Ottessa Moshfegh

56) Starry Messenger: Cosmic Perspectives on Civilization by Neil deGrasse Tyson

57) Fantastic Four: Full Circle by Alex Ross

(Ooh) That Smell

I lent my car to my seventeen year old son Sunday night, so he could drive some friends to get Halloween costumes-- but instead they got pho and I think someone spilled some (or they were very sweaty and were rubbing their stinky feet all over my van's upholstery) because Monday morning, there was a heinous odor emanating from the interior of the car, like vomit and chlorine and footstink all mixed together-- I've been driving with the windows open since then and the smell is finally dissipating but then today at the dentist I was punished with an even worse odor/flavor-- the cement that they used to affix my bridge made me gag over and over and over . . . I'm glad I didn't puke on the hygienist because she was very nice (not that I would punish a rude hygienist by puking on her) but I hope that the rest of my week is odor free.

 

Whole Lotta Barking Going On

 No matter how clearly I explain it, my dog does not understand Halloween.

Something Spooky

Batman: The Long Halloween, by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, is a dark, moody, and surreal graphic novel-- and it's got all the usual villains; the story of how Harvey Dent became Two-Face; several organized crime families; Arkham Asylum; and a serial killer named Holiday . . . who commits grisly murders on holidays . . . highly recommended if you're looking for something fun to read (and your eyes are tired from grading essays).

What Happens to Those Final Girls After the Movie Ends?

The new Grady Hendrix horror novel, The Final Girl Support Group, is both more surreal and meta than his previous novels but also more profound and serious-- the conceit of this fictional world is that the events depicted in the classic slasher flicks of the '80s and '90s actually happened-- Nightmare on Elm Street and Halloween and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, etc-- and then the stories were bought by film studios and made into movie franchises-- but the actual girls who survived these horrific events exist long after the slasher genre's popularity-- and these "final girls" have to deal with the trauma of their own lives, and the trauma of seeing their stories used as a disposable art form with (mostly) disposable women being murdered by monstrous men . . . and the book is also a thriller, with plot twists and wild violence and an unreliable narrator and interesting characters, but it's also a take on the objectification of women and the veneration of violence . . . nine axe-splintered doors out of ten.

Another Scary Poem

 This one is a bit shorter than my Halloween 2020 special . . .

Two Four Six Eight

Trump is gonna litigate!

Seven Eight Nine Ten

We will count the votes again!

Eleven Twelve

I tire of this.

Fall Break Coronavirus! Whoo!

Fall Break was off to an auspicious start-- Friday afternoon, I participated in the 9th Annual Scary Story Contest (and took third with my scary poem!) and Saturday Cat and I were about to attend an outdoor Halloween Party when I got a text from a JV player informing me that he had tested positive for covid (and so had his entire family . . . they were getting hit pretty hard by it) and so I switched from party mode to contact tracing mode . . . luckily, the player was very responsible and stopped coming to practice right when his mom grew ill, so the last contact was eight days prior-- but the head coach and the AD and I  still had to make a spreadsheet of emails, inform all the players and the administration, and tell folks that we might have contracted the virus . . . the JV team ended up getting quarantined for six days-- which would be fourteen days from the initial contact-- but it was highly unlikely that there was any spread since we were outside and no one had any symptoms . . . my family got tested, just to be on the safe side-- we went to a fairly grubby old school doctor's office in a desolate strip mall-- lots of old leather furniture, a big fish tank, and yellowed linoleum on the floors-- and we had our first experience with the nasal swab . . . it wasn't too bad (I said I would do it again if someone paid me $20 and Cat and the boys said they would do it again for $5 . . . I said I don't need $5 dollars that badly) and we all turned out negative . . . we got results in 24 hours; hopefully we will get back to soccer at the end of the week; in other pandemic news, I bought a portable cheap exercise bike from Amazon, so we could ride it while we watch TV-- I think it's going to be a long winter-- and for 104 bucks the thing is miraculous, but they didn't ship us the seat, so while we wait for that, we duct taped a bunch of towels to the metal frame where the seat is supposed to go and that works pretty well.

Scary Story Contest 2020: The Safety Dance vs. The Chinese Curse

Yesterday afternoon, the EB English Department held our 9th Annual Scary Story Contest. Thanks to the Soders for hosting! They had a stand-up propane heater, a fire, and a few well-placed umbrellas to shield us from the rain. We will certainly remember the Covid Scary Story Contest for time immemorial-- as the stories were great and the mood was spooky.

To summarize the contest: we write scary stories on a theme, throw in twenty bucks, read them anonymously, and then vote and award prizes.

This year's theme was "It's Perfectly Safe" and I had no desire to write anything, let alone a fully developed short story. I was sick of screen time because of the technological soul-sucking abyss of hybrid school. Stacey and I usually collaborate, but we couldn't find time to flesh out her idea.

So instead of a story, I wrote a scary poem. I framed it as a Facebook post, ostensibly written by a woman who thought she might have some magical powers and wanted to use them to change the course of this fucked up year. Over the course of the post, she descends into madness (of course).

It was fun to write, but, I didn't realize how hard it would be to read. The poor lady who was randomly assigned my piece (Cunningham) nearly descended into madness trying to perform it. I snagged third place, which was an accomplishment-- the stories were really good this year.

Here it is-- I think it's both appropriate for Halloween and the looming thing which may not be spoken of. If you like it, post it on Facebook . . . maybe it will work.

                                                 The Chinese Curse

What’s on your mind, Blair?

video photo feeling

What’s on my mind? Do you really want to know, Face-suck? 

Or do you just want to mine my data? 

What’s on my mind?

The Chinese Curse, that’s what. May you live in interesting times. 

October 31st, 2020. Interesting times. Four more days until the election. Two more months left in this mess of a year.

Interesting times suck. I can't get them off of my mind. Or out of my mind.

But maybe, I can change things. Have some control. Do some lexical magic. 

At least over you, my so-called Facebook friends . . . in my so-called life during this so-called pandemic. Maybe you’ll pass my incantation along and this year will turn itself inside out.

What if I could cast a spell?

Dissipate this weary hell?

I should at least give it a try. My mom used to do tarot readings. I might have some kind of gift.

Hocus-pocus, maybe I can learn to focus?

Zuckerberg’s clairvoyant vision

Find this with your algorithm:

Make my post go super-viral

Pull us from this deadly spiral.

It was the year of twenty-twenty,

It is the year of twenty-twenty . . .

Twenty-twenty, twenty-twenty

Why do you rub me

in this way?

Why can’t you love me?

You push and shove me

Day by fretful day by day.

Boil and bubble, Trump is trouble, 

O Lord don't let him win the double

Yes! Let my soul turn to lead 

and sink to hell if he were dead.

If he were dead, if he were dead.

Banish these thoughts from my head!

My busy brain should not be fed

By such bitter vengeful bread.

Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies 

covid covid we all fall down . . .

Safety, safety, safety first

Safety dance, the Chinese curse

Living safely is the worst

But is it better than the hearse?

Lady liberty not Trump tower

Used to give our country power.

Hippies filled their hair with flowers.

Now . . .

abortion makes Coney Barrett sour.

Blues and reds, they all glower--

Children at the border cower.

They say the pen is mightier than the sword.

But what if the Populus is polarized and bored?

Pandemic, plan-demic

A fiction Democratic.

You have my word 

November third

It disappears like magic.

Meatpackers work, shoulder to shoulder

The policy gets colder and colder.

Carcass, virus, 

virus, carcass . . .  

Cut that meat or they will fire us.

Covid covid, we all fall down.

Black lives matter, blue lives matter,

George Floyd’s ashes we must scatter.

Pitter-patter pitter-patter

The blood of Rayshard Brooks did spatter--

Tasers, guns I’ll take the latter.

Breonna Taylor’s door got battered.

Some say the world will end in fire,

But for migrant workers, 

ICE will suffice.

That’s great, it starts with an earthquake,

Birds and snakes and aeroplanes,

Dave Chapelle is not afraid

Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn

While the outback burns and burns.

It’s the end of the world as we know it,

Grandma don’t feel fine at all.

Covid covid, we all fall 

down.

Fly of Pence, tongue of Stone,

Bannon’s nose hair

Kushner’s throne

Ivanka’s fabric

Mnuchin’s money

Tongue of Miller

Pompeo’s arm

Mix these for a deadly charm.

Yes! Let my soul turn to lead 

and sink to hell if he were dead.

I make this bargain readily,

Like Faustus with Mephistopheles . . .

I wear my mask and then I sneeze

Don’t stare at me, pretty please.

Here we are now, entertain us.

TV shows to make us famous,

Social feeds will try to change us

We bare our souls, can you blame us?

Bail out the airlines and the banks,

To Donald Trump we give our thanks.

The rest of us must share the wealth--

And hope he subsidizes health.

Plumes of smoke, tear-gas, fire

Men in armor, guns for hire

We're all so very very tired

But am I preaching to the choir?

Twenty-twenty when you end

Will our fractured country mend?

Or have we gone around the bend?

I see two paths, both portend.

Yes, two roads diverged in yellow wood . . . 

One repulsive, one not so good

Three roads, four roads, five roads, six,

There will be no easy fix

Epstein’s minors turn their tricks.

Safety dance, safety first

Safety is the Chinese curse

Will November make it worse?

What rough beast slouches towards Washington to be reborn?

Once I pondered weak and weary, on a scientific theory

Then I learned of QAnon and thought: “Fuck yeah! IT IS ON!”

Now I fight the pedophiles,

Me and Trump, we do battle

The rest of you are sheep and cattle

Do your research on Seattle

Protesters, they mass and gather

Law or chaos, would you rather?

Widening on the turning gyre, 

the center cannot hold

Things fall apart, it’s getting cold

The virus once again grows bold

Airborne particles

Fake news articles,

Winter is coming, enjoy the carnival.

My thoughts grow wild, I can’t control them, 

I wish that I could turn them off,

I wish I were allowed to cough 

I wish that I could turn them off 

I wish I were allowed to cough 

until my lungs come out my ears and throat

The devil is inside a goat

Bubble, bubble Trump is trouble

Will he be elected double?

Twenty-twenty, a dozen more?

Will he change the terms to four?

Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan

Let’s enact a travel ban!

Illhan Omar and AOC

Want us all to work for free.

Socialism . . . not for me . . .

We mourn the mighty RBG.

Twenty-twenty, you have offended,

But in a year, will all be mended?

Perhaps we have just slumbered here

While these visions did appear?

No . . . this is no idle theme--

It’s not a dream, it’s not a dream

I give you full consent to scream.

Stop these thoughts, away begone!

Yet they continue on and on . . .

What’s on my mind, Facebook feed?

I can’t choose which way to proceed.

I cannot do a single deed.

I’m paralyzed and by booze and weed

Safety safety, safety first

The safety dance, the Chinese curse

Living safely is the worst

My brain won’t stop until it bursts.

I poke and scroll on my phone

There’s no such thing as home alone.

O lord I feel so weak and weary, fatigued and futile, eyes so bleary,

My mask lies soiled and forgotten, dirty, dusty smelling rotten

Fallen from the special spot on my car mirror to the floor--

Now I need it, I must retrieve it, I’m on an errand to the store.

But can I enter? Dare I enter? I do not want to touch the door--

The doorway entrance, a deadly sentence, full of germs I can’t ignore.

What’s on my mind?

Only this and nothing more.

Facebook-- make this post go super-viral,

Release me from this deadly spiral,

I’m feeling mad, my mind is wild,

Like a surly red-faced child--

I want to stomp and throw a tantrum--

Redrum, redrum! REDRUM!

Murder mayhem bloody-mary

Twenty-twenty, you shock and scare me

Like some spider black and hairy.

I can’t sleep my way through this disaster

Twenty-twenty: you are the master

Of my whirling anxious brain--

Release me from this grisly reign.

Dash these thoughts against the stones,

Let them live among your phones,

Free me from these dreadful times

Cast this spell, release these rhymes.

What’s on my mind, what’s on my mind?

It was the year of twenty-twenty,

It IS the year of twenty-twenty.

Only this and nothing more.

Post                                 

Nosara: Keep Your Eyes on the Road, Your hands Upon the Wheel (if you can)

There is so much to see in Nosara, but if you are driving, it's hard to look up from the pothole strewn gravel and rock roads; the drive from Samara is an hour of bumpy winding coastal back roads and then you hit the rough stuff, but it's well worth it; I'm not sure which is better, the wildlife or the people watching-- my son Alex would say it's the surfing, and the surfing is great, especially on Playa Guiones, the giant scenic beach with endless breaks; I rented a board and rode a few waves along with my son, until my sternum got sore, then I just enjoyed the scenery: super-toned expat yoga/surfer women . . . I've never seen more perfect bodies in my life; perhaps these folks-- like Lady Gaga-- fly in to Nosara, as there is a tiny airstrip; it's quite a collection of people, we went to a outdoor charity lunch bonanza for the firemen of Nosara, because the French lady who owned Villa Mango, the bed and breakfast we stayed at, was married to a Costa Rican fireman, and so we really saw the local crowd; Costa Rican couples and entrepeneurs; expat retirees, surfers, business people; and wealthy folks just enjoying the situation (there was an especially entertaining group of four hot middle-aged women getting drunk and acting like they were in Eat Pray Love) and the Villa Mango is highly recommended: you can walk to Playa Pelada, the teak and guanacaste tree deck is beautiful, and we saw loads of monkeys from the porch and the pool; there is also a semi-tame coati who has been hanging out for a few months, you can hand feed him and he naps on the couch; the dog doesn't even bother him; while Alex and I were surfing, Catherine and Ian went kayaking up the Nosara river into the mangroves, and they saw black iguanas, Halloween crabs, lots of rare birds and Catherine even got a quick glimpse of a saltwater croc; the food was excellent, especially at El Chivo and Al Chile, where we got a close up view of a hummingbird ( Alex took a pic with his phone that rivals my owl) so despite the bad roads, a great place.

Nosara: Keep Your Eyes on the Road, Your hands Upon the Wheel (if you can)

There is so much to see in Nosara, but if you are driving, it's hard to look up from the pothole strewn gravel and rock roads; the drive from Samara is an hour of bumpy winding coastal back roads and then you hit the rough stuff, but it's well worth it; I'm not sure which is better, the wildlife or the people watching-- my son Alex would say it's the surfing, and the surfing is great, especially on Playa Guiones, the giant scenic beach with endless breaks; I rented a board and rode a few waves along with my son, until my sternum got sore, then I just enjoyed the scenery: super-toned expat yoga/surfer women . . . I've never seen more perfect bodies in my life; perhaps these folks-- like Lady Gaga-- fly in to Nosara, as there is a tiny airstrip; it's quite a collection of people, we went to a outdoor charity lunch bonanza for the firemen of Nosara, because the French lady who owned Villa Mango, the bed and breakfast we stayed at, was married to a Costa Rican fireman, and so we really saw the local crowd; Costa Rican couples and entrepeneurs; expat retirees, surfers, business people; and wealthy folks just enjoying the situation (there was an especially entertaining group of four hot middle-aged women getting drunk and acting like they were in Eat Pray Love) and the Villa Mango is highly recommended: you can walk to Playa Pelada, the teak and guanacaste tree deck is beautiful, and we saw loads of monkeys from the porch and the pool; there is also a semi-tame coati who has been hanging out for a few months, you can hand feed him and he naps on the couch; the dog doesn't even bother him; while Alex and I were surfing, Catherine and Ian went kayaking up the Nosara river into the mangroves, and they saw black iguanas, Halloween crabs, lots of rare birds and Catherine even got a quick glimpse of a saltwater croc; the food was excellent, especially at El Chivo and Al Chile, where we got a close up view of a hummingbird ( Alex took a pic with his phone that rivals my owl) so despite the bad roads, a great place.

Halloween is a Test

I have nothing creative in the tank, as I'm using all my willpower to not eat the Reeses peanut butter cups in the closet.

Rorschach is a Rorschach Test (or perhaps a Litmus Test)

Last year my son Ian was the star of Halloween, when he went viral as Eleven from Stranger Things, but this year props go to Alex, whose costume is literally a pop cultural Rorschach test . . . because he is dressed as Rorschach, the anti-hero from the greatest graphic novel ever written (Watchmen) and while his costume is a bit obscure, people who recognize him feel hip and in-the-know and have all kinds of good associations and perceptions, while those who don't will have their own unfounded and weird reactions to his inkblot mask . . . so maybe it's more of a litmus test for pop cultural literacy, not a Rorschach test . . . but my apologies for the imprecision, I'm writing this sentence quickly and under duress because it's Friday afternoon and my kids are going to a sleepover to binge on Stranger Things and my wife is encouraging me to mention the fact that Alex's mask changes shapes when he breathes and that she is responsible for not only this special mask but also the rest of the ensemble.

Aiding and Abetting to Avoid Tooth Decay

I'd prefer if my kids spent this Halloween perpetrating some good old-fashioned mischief and vandalism, rather than begging for sugary sugary treats (or even binge-watching the new season of Stranger Things . . . Netflix doesn't give you diabetes). 

There is Intelligent Life on Earth

Though Sam Harris often comes off as a pretentious douche (and his podcast has absurdly bombastic theme music) but despite this shortcoming of charm, I really like him and appreciate what he's doing for intellectual discourse; his 100th episode (he makes the Spock-like claim that the number has no special inherent meaning to him, of course) is fantastic-- Harris doesn't speak much, instead he lets Nicholas Christakis do the talking-- Christakis directs the Human Nature Lab at Yale, and he attained some viral video prominence because he was at the center of the Yale Halloween videos with the shrieking African-American girl who had some serious misunderstandings about free speech in America . . . Christakis discusses the current attacks on the first amendment that are happening on college campuses, mob mentality, and some of the clever AI research they are doing at his lab and he comes off as rational, extremely intelligent, empathetic, and compelling . . . so much so that Sam Harris makes an orgy joke!

The Test 80 . . . Dave Descends into Darkness

If you thought you were going to escape my semi-annual DST rant, you've got another thing coming-- and while I understand great forces are at work with this policy, forces that want us to consume more Halloween candy and more golf balls-- I'd like us for a moment to consider the feelings and emotions of our loyal four-legged friends . . . what have they done to deserve this shift? why must they be punished for a capitalist conspiracy to make us shop more, consume more, and play more golf? my dog is like a clock, he sidles down the stairs every morning at 5:50 AM to go for his morning constitutional and subsequent defecation, but this morning I had to drag him out of bed and though we took our usual route, he wasn't ready to move his bowels yet-- though he tried-- but the poor fellow was confused by this arbitrary shift in his circadian rhythm . . . so lets end DSL for the children, for the dogs, and for all the good people that have to go to work early in the morning (or just keep DSL and let kids get hit by school buses in the darkness of winter) and if you liked this glimpse inside the darkness of Dave's brain, then you'll certainly enjoy the latest episode of The Test, which details how Dave's life is spiralling out of control, widening in the gyre, how the center cannot hold, but during the journey, plenty of new shit has come to light . . . check it out: The Test 80: New $#@! Has Come to Light.

This Halloween Goes to Eleven

I generally like to rant and rave about the idiocy of Halloween, but my son Ian made this year's sugar-laced festivities a bit more tolerable; we shaved his head Sunday night, so he could be Eleven from Stranger Things . . . I did have to bribe him with a small sum of cash, but it was worth it, because he really is the spitting image of Millie Bobby Brown, and I think he was just as excited to slip into the pink dress Catherine bought at the thrift store as I was to see him in it . . . and, he noted this was a one-shot opportunity: "I can only do this once because next year I'll probably have pimples and a mustache."

Let's Get Ready to Coddle!!!!!!!!!!

The Atlantic article "The Coddling of the American Mind" by Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt is an excellent and comprehensive overview of how many Americans are starting to view the world-- especially college students; the article's subtitle is "in the name of emotional well-being, college students are increasingly demanding protection from words and ideas they don't like . . . here's why that's disastrous for education-- and mental health" but the article covers more than college campuses-- it connects social media, politics, and society as a whole to the thesis; the article is insanely long, and while I suggest you read it in its entirety, I will offer a summary here for those of you who like to be coddled:

1) social media makes it "extraordinarily easy to join crusades, express solidarity and outrage, and shun traitors" so we've entered a new age of polarization, where it's easy to "like" a point of view skip the dialogue, debate, discussion, and negotiation that comes with actually listening to someone else's perspective;

2) the youth of America have grown up in a completely politically polarized environment-- surveys from the 1970s show that Republican and Democrat antipathy was "surprisingly mild" but the negative feelings of each party toward the other have grown steadily, a process called "affective partisan polarization," which is a serious problem for a country that considers itself a democracy;

3) hypersensitive college students have created a new term called "microagression," which can apply to any phrase or action that might be construed offensive-- whether it was overt, subtextual, or accidental-- and this led to the whole "shrieking girl" incident on the Yale campus protesting the hypothetical possibility of unregulated Halloween costumes;

4) hypersensitive college students are now demanding "trigger warnings" from teachers if they are about to encounter something uncomfortable in a text, so that they are not traumatized by something shocking or unexpected . . . even though this goes against all psychological logic, as this system will keep students in a state of anxiety about these issues-- racism, terrorism, abuse, etc.-- instead of the time-tested use of "exposure therapy," which rewires your brain to be able to deal with the difficult topic;

5) emotional reasoning has become the dominant mode of discourse on college campuses, with a subjective definition of offense-- if it offends you then it is offensive-- and this has bled into workplace harassment policies, where the same language is cropping up: there is no objective definition of harassment, it is simply if the person being harassed takes umbrage, then it is harassment;

6) cognitive therapy is a technique that probably needs to be taught on college campuses; "the goal is to minimize distorted thinking and see the world more accurately" and this is done by learning the most common cognitive distortions that people fall prey to-- overgeneralizing, dichotomous thinking, blaming, emotional reasoning . . . all twelve are listed at the end of the article and I am going to use them in class during my logical fallacies unit . . . this is one of my favorite things to teach in Composition class, though I warn the students that they may get in hot water when they start pointing out these "cognitive distortions" . . . especially when a parent or teacher employs one.