tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347962882024-02-08T03:26:28.040+08:00Fool's FallBrian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-24922059040008553122018-02-09T05:22:00.001+08:002018-02-09T05:22:42.733+08:00holidays<div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US style='font-size:10.4pt;font-family:Verdana'>Sup <p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US style='font-size:10.4pt;font-family:Verdana'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:10.4pt;font-family:Verdana'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US style='font-size:10.4pt;font-family:Verdana'><a href="http://bit.ly/2GWn0L7">http://bit.ly/2GWn0L7</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US style='font-size:10.4pt;font-family:Verdana'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:10.4pt;font-family:Verdana'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:10.4pt;font-family:Verdana'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:10.4pt;font-family:Verdana'><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Brian<o:p></o:p></span></font></p> <p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US style='font-size:10.4pt;font-family:Verdana'><o:p></o:p></span></p></div>Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-84563684870292825972016-07-23T04:44:00.001+08:002016-07-23T04:44:38.933+08:00Hisalutations
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<br>BrianBrian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-33312085839138450792008-03-01T08:20:00.004+08:002008-03-01T08:36:17.437+08:00"Duma Key" to King Success? Book Review<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2Pm3mAuqxCBRBOQPYCoInbKHUyhLvtFmnklUIPjHocc0y24OUTsvQfo6QFLOkraTTXkzTPYaozq9O9CiaoiCxmip3yB9fTV8eWi8MUNzRMXgLYuVOItdILY3kNpGsNlzzsQrOQ/s1600-h/dumakey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2Pm3mAuqxCBRBOQPYCoInbKHUyhLvtFmnklUIPjHocc0y24OUTsvQfo6QFLOkraTTXkzTPYaozq9O9CiaoiCxmip3yB9fTV8eWi8MUNzRMXgLYuVOItdILY3kNpGsNlzzsQrOQ/s200/dumakey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172563071088902674" border="0" /></a><br />Hard to believe that I've been reading Stephen King for twenty-five years, but there it is. I started with "Pet Sematary" and have read 90% of what he's written since. Does that make me a King "expert"? A dubious distinction . . .<br />Characterization is King's strong suit. Horror or fantasy or straight fiction -- it doesn't matter. His characters stick with you. King's ability to make us identify with his stock every-day-sort-of-guy main character represents his greatest strength as a writer. You'll like Freemantle and Wireman. You could have a beer with them. (You'll recognize Freemantle from Mike Noonan in "Bag of bones." Twins separated at birth, maybe?)<br /><br />You'll also recognize King's typical build-up. Normal guy in unusual circumstances finds himself confronted with ambiguous monster out to get him (and his family) for unknown reasons. The foreplay is always more exciting that the actual act. Just like in "Dreamcatcher", King has trouble in this book moving from the heavily foreshadowed bogeyman to the real-life campaign to kill it. (Where do his monsters ever come from anyway? Do they ever have a history?) The exposition is quality, like something out of "The Stand" or "Hearts in Atlantis", but the ending melts into cheesiness, like a chapter from "Salem's Lot."<br /><br />As an English teacher, I have a running row with my colleagues about whether King writes literature or trash. My argument has always been that he writes both. Most people don't realize that he's behind "The Shawshank Redemption" or "Stand by Me", or that his story "The Man in Black" won 1st place a few years back in "The Best American Short Story." (Ok, maybe that was a marketing ploy. But any guy who churns out a book a year, at least, is using the "win sometimes lose sometimes" strategy.) In this book he wins and loses. Great characterization and build up, unsatisfying hackneyed ending.<br /><br />P.S., Mr. King. Enough with the ad placement. While reading this book, I found my mouth watering for a Pepsi, and I had an unconscious desire to buy a Ram truck. My guess is that you're already rich. Do you need to belittle your work with constant references to consumer items?Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-90272278796992033962008-02-10T10:20:00.000+08:002008-02-11T14:18:53.610+08:00Ramblings on Schooliness and Forrest Gump<span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QRWSPy4JnwB3WppqfifsHygtOnKEWYSAWjSIMl9T8UatqxzaSA5CYsmAH5dX27p6ctin_VUP5YaupbXIldVUG43XTGn5AtGiPGrg4Mg2MlKBhHELYkgGWCKaZY8g05ht9LLnLA/s1600-h/gump.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QRWSPy4JnwB3WppqfifsHygtOnKEWYSAWjSIMl9T8UatqxzaSA5CYsmAH5dX27p6ctin_VUP5YaupbXIldVUG43XTGn5AtGiPGrg4Mg2MlKBhHELYkgGWCKaZY8g05ht9LLnLA/s200/gump.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165171267029627330" border="0" /></a><br /></span><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Ah, so many thoughts came to mind when I read Clay's article over his own high school experience . . . I thought about all the things that I learned from all the stuff associated with those years <i>besides</i> the classes – the track meets, chasing girls, trying to decide which hairstyle was best (something I still haven't figured out), the musicals, the parties, the breakups, the hundreds of fantasy and sci-fi works that I devoured at home (I'm sure that I learned more about life and honor and suffering from Thomas Covenant, Belgarion, and Frodo than all my other experiences put together). </span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;">But what did I actually learn from high school? Well, I'm sure that there was something. Actually, I know that there was. The truth is that I always felt pretty smart. There was a click around my sophomore year when I saw that doing well in classes was really pretty easy. I could wedge good grades between my outside reading and all the other stuff that I mentioned before. By the time I reached my junior year, I was getting A's in almost everything. I wrote the game Pente for the computer (in Basic, no less), I balanced equations and computed sin and cosine like I was born to it, I wrote essays and research papers, I conjugated verbs in French, and Voila! I became the model, well-rounded high school student. I guess that I could list the specific skills and content that stuck with me, but what would be the point? Will I be tested over it? Aren't we all just products of the stuff that is thrown at us over the years? Isn't high school just a chaos where everything is stirred together to mix and stew and react and where we hope that there will be that cosmic “click” when students will become, so to speak, “self-aware” about there own educations? </span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The kernel that I find in all of these arguments about “schooliness” versus self-directed education lies in application and identity. In my mind, a better word for “application” is “gumption.” And by “identity” I mean that moment when a person decides who he is, independent of what society or others want him to be. Yes, Forrest “Gump” is the perfect example. (e.g. “Gump.” I like to tell my literature students that nothing in literature is accidental – “Author's purpose! Author's purpose!”, the IB teacher's mantra . . .) Mr. “Gump” succeeded in life because he defined himself early, albeit in the most simple terms (like Siddhartha's final incarnation staring into the river) and based on that solidity of identity acted, acted I say, without too much thought or hesitation. He applied his knowledge, his identity, to life and became, voila!, great.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I would have liked to have jogged alongside Mr. Gump on his way back and forth across the country (staying busy is, after all, the best way to overcome grief) or danced with him and Elvis (why is dancing so meaningless and powerful at the same time?) or gone shrimping with him and Sgt. Dan (hope and persistence pay off, don't they?)</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;">But while Forrest was acting, I was “learning.” And there's the rub. That's the key component missing from education today and the point at which my ideas converge with Clay's. “Schooliness” undermines application. It serves as a distraction from gumption and identity. The reason that so many of us become self-aware only <i>after</i> high school is that only then are we asked to put those skills, skills, skills to work to actually do something. Maybe that's why those extra-curricular activities are the ones that stick with us . . . We put on a musical, we compete against others in track or basketball, or science projects, we produce a newspaper or yearbook, we climb the social ladder based on what we “do”; in short, our actions become manifest and are hailed or heckled by those around us.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So the real question is how to change those passive classrooms into productive studios where students are asked to do something rather than just learn <i>how</i> to do it. We should focus on helping them <i>make themselves</i> into journalists, or computer-programmers, or marketers, rather than trying to teach them the skills to be future journalists, or future computer-programmers, or future marketers. Forrest Gump never took a running class. I'm pretty sure that Benjamin Franklin never formally studied journalism or physics and that Mohatma Ghandi never sat for a class on political relations. </span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So did I learn a lot in high school? Definitely. Did I <i>do</i> a lot in high school? Not much. Do I see a need for reflection concerning curriculum and a move away from skills-based, high-stakes testing? Well, stupid is as stupid does.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size:100%;">See Clay Burell's open thread, <a href="http://beyond-school.org/2008/02/04/open-thread-on-the-value-of-your-own-high-school-learning/#comments">"On the value of your own high school learning"</a><br /></span></p>Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-1165451826912084712006-12-07T08:37:00.000+08:002006-12-10T08:32:24.426+08:00Education: More Than an Individual Endeavor<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6619/2150/1600/516637/bb.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 181px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px" height="156" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6619/2150/320/698676/bb.jpg" width="206" border="0" /></a><br /><div class="Section1"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;color:#3366ff;">Submitted to <em>Munity-East</em>, Volume 3, Issue 4, 2006</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">The value in education is obvious for most international school kids. You go to school to get your learning, and then you go on to become doctors, or lawyers, or artists, or diplomats. The schooling that you receive is an enabler. It allows you to plan for and to meet your goals . . . those goals most likely include the attainment of health, happiness, and prosperity. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">Some of you who have stopped to think about it see other benefits in education. Maybe you see learning as an end in itself. You read a great novel or master a new mathematical concept, and this accomplishment gives you a sense of satisfaction and edification. You see that education has added to your understanding of the world and your quality of life. You see that you’ve been exposed to things that many people in the world may never understand or appreciate – the joy of travel, the sense of wonder that you experience at a museum or an opera, or the simple pleasure of a conversation that challenges your intellect and sharpens your opinions.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">So, education is a means of achieving one’s goals and improving one’s quality of life. But what about education as a means for solving world problems? Can the value of education be extended beyond the individual? After having been a student for a score of years and a teacher for another decade, I would argue that education as a <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">concept</span></i> will have a huge impact on the future – just as it has had on the past. Our efforts to educate not only ourselves, but to extend that education to impoverished or strife-ridden areas of the world will dramatically influence the course of events during the 21<sup>st</sup> century.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">The fact is that the world is becoming smaller. Cliché, yes, but true nonetheless. As people of different nationalities, races, and beliefs begin more and more to rub elbows, it will become more and more apparent that one’s neighbor’s level of education is as important – or sometimes more important – than one’s own. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">A case in point today is the level of xenophobia between many countries of the world. As educated individuals, we know that the large majority of people, no matter what their nationalities, share many common values: family, prosperity, a desire to live in peace and happiness. When knowledge and history are controlled or repressed by the state, it’s easy for the masses to come to see outsiders as monsters. There are numerous uneducated or unthinking individuals among us who see others as barbaric, cruel, or “out-to-get-them.” </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">Tyrants, maybe more than anyone else, understand the power of education, or more precisely, the lack thereof. That is why they work so hard to keep their subjects in the dark. Their Orwellian demonization of other cultures through manipulation of knowledge and the media diminishes the humanity of those peoples, thereby twisting reality so that repression and genocide are a moral obligation. So “un”education is also an enabler. It allows the few to control the many by playing upon their fears and prejudices. Education is the means of toppling these ideas. It is impossible for people to maintain the same levels of prejudice and hatred after having been exposed to the similarities of those so-called opposing cultures.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">The deteriorating environment represents another educational dilemma. Ultimately, we all breathe the same air, we drink the same water, and we walk on the same ground. We can’t allow ourselves to forever maintain our dependence on polluting energy sources which corrupt our life’s medium. It is important that we educate ourselves in the use of alternative and renewable energy sources and that we then look to their proliferation. We also cannot allow many societies of the world to continue to experience the ravages of preventable diseases. Who will educate the children if the parents are dead? Besides the fact that no one will be there to teach them not to hate <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">us</span></i>, there may also be no one to explain the consequences of cutting down their forests, or that poverty is a cycle fueled by lack of family and financial planning, or about how mining or clear-cutting can lead to erosion and dangerous metal seepage, thereby diminishing food supplies and further deteriorating the population’s already sub-standard levels of health.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">It’s not enough to view education as a means to an end for the individual. While working to become a doctor, lawyer, artist, or a diplomat is a noble goal, it is fundamental that we also work to become teachers in the sense that we support and participate in the efforts to spread the same value for learning that has so positively affected our own lives. Be a doctor who teaches cleanliness and sanitation. As a lawyer, help those with little understanding of the government to avoid becoming the victim of it. Put your artistic talents to work to show that a mountain is more beautiful than as strip mine. As a diplomat, work to understand other cultures and ensure that they understand your own. Because, as all learned people must understand, education is more than a personal endeavor; it is a responsibility. Empowering others through teaching will broaden the pool of responsible global citizens. It is the factor that will determine whether we will progress toward a more promising future or continue to wallow in the mistakes and poor practices of the past and present.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div>Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-1162222180827897692006-10-30T23:29:00.000+08:002006-10-31T13:18:41.486+08:00Hodgepodge 10-30-2006<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/1600/041005_starbucks.1.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="149" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/320/041005_starbucks.1.jpg" width="126" border="0" /></a><br /><div class="Section1"><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 12pt"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;">When I was a kid at Westwood Elementary in Friendswood, I and every other reader in the school were in a race to check out <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Where the Sidewalk Ends</span></i>. That was before Barnes and Nobles or Borders when books were still something to be checked out of the library. The book was so popular because the internet wasn't around and Atari was still something that most people couldn't afford or rejected on principle, and because it was full of poems like "Sister for Sale" and "Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me Too" (who, incidentally, went for a ride in a flying shoe . . .). But many was the time that our weekly library hour came and I rushed to the "S" section of the poetry section to find it already gone.<br />Right next the vacancy that Silverstein should have occupied was a book called <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Hodgepodge</span></i> which means, if you don't know, "a little bit of everything." It had a little poetry (the funny, kid kind), some riddles, and even some short stories. I found that, all-around, it was a pretty good substitute for other book, and better yet, it was always waiting patiently for me on the shelf. Here is a "Hodgepodge" of some of my thinking over the last couple of weeks.<br /><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Starbucks is sweet. </span><br /></span>I guess that I should be one of those people who rejects corporate coolness, and in general, I am. When in <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Austin</st1:place></st1:city>, I much prefer Mojo's on Guadalupe or -- better yet --Joe's on South Congress where I can sit outside with my dog and watch the real Austinites pass by.<br />But when in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Taichung</st1:place></st1:city>, I prefer Starbucks -- even if I did just pay $80 NT for a cup of tea. Walking my dog to the shop from my apartment, I pass a lot of betle nut shops, a lot of crazy drivers pass me in their beaters, on their scooters, or in their BMWs. I smell stinky dofu, I pass Tai Chi people in the park, and look in the window at a bunch of nice looking restaurants where I can't read the menu.<br />So when I get to Starbucks, I don't scoff. I sit myself down outside in the familiar faux wicker chair, listen to the familiar canned jazz, look around at the Taiwanese version of American Starbucks customers, and enjoy a little respite from my otherwise off-kilter world.<br /><br /><b><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="color:#3366ff;">Higher Abortion Rates Equal</span> <span style="color:#3366ff;">Less Crime.</span></span></b><br />This is not an argument for abortion; rather, it's just an acknowledgement of the hypothesis that more the increase in abortions soon after Roe vs. Wade probably had a lot to do with the declining crime rates in the 1990s. I recently read Levitt's <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Freakonomics </span></i>and found this to be one of the more interesting points. (Other interesting topics included cheating Sumo wrestlers and a man who was able to relate honesty to bagel consumption.) In a nutshell, the 1990s were supposed to go to hell in a hand basket. All the experts foresaw skyrocketing numbers of robberies, rapes, and murderers. But somehow they all ended up with egg on their faces.<br />So what was the driving force behind this falling of? Was it better parenting skills? Was it better law enforcement or CSI techniques? Was it the rising economy? Well, maybe . . .<br />But according to the statistics, it had a lot more to do with the number of future criminals who never got the chance. The women most likely to have abortions were those in difficult circumstance -- poor, abused, uneducated, alone. Their children were likely to have grown up in impoverished circumstances with little supervision and too many opportunities to get in trouble. At risk, you might say. Their coming of age corresponded with the drop in crime rates in the 90s.<br />While advocating abortions to prevent crime is, in my opinion, far too Swiftian, there are a host of arguments surrounding the issue. For example, the ready availability of birth control or real sex education in schools. Choices other than abortion that could still allow women to avoid unwanted pregnancies, because someone -- whether it be mom, sister, grandma, adoption agencies, or the criminal justice system -- will have to deal with the consequences.<br /><br /><b><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;color:#3366ff;" >Denial: It's Not Just a River in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Libya</st1:place></st1:country-region>.</span></b><br />That's Bill Maher's line, not mine, and of course refers to the intelligence of President Bush. I like Bill. He's funny.<br />Bush isn't stupid, however -- just stubborn and a little crazy. At least that's the impression that I got of him after reading the new Woodward book, <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">State of Denial</span></i>. Mostly, the book just blamed everything on Rummsfield. It didn't say anything that I didn't already know (Shouldn't have gotten into the war, great takeover, no plan for how what to do next, everything seriously ‘effed’ up now.)<br />I think that it's much too easy to just view things as Rummsfield's fault. He smells like a scapegoat. No, I think that the buck has got to stop with Bush. And I even admire the President a little bit for sticking by his man when the chips are down.<br />But it's just another illustration of why Bush shouldn't be there in the first place. He's not dumb, but he's not the right man for the job. So much of the bad that has happened in the last 6 years is directly attributable not to his malice, but to his mistakes. <st1:country-region st="on">Iraq</st1:country-region>, <st1:city st="on">Kyoto</st1:city>, <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">New Orleans</st1:place></st1:city> . . .<br />Emerson said, <span style="color:#ffffff;">"</span><a title="Click for further information about this quotation" href="http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/25925.html"><span style="TEXT-DECORATION: none;color:#ffffff;" >Speak what you think today in hard words and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said today.</span></a><span style="color:#ffffff;"> "</span> It's OK if you were on Bush's side to begin with. He was an attractive candidate. It's also OK now if you realize that it's time for a change. (Not that the democrats look that much better . . .)<br />On a side note, I watched Gore's movie over the weekend and thought to myself: Where was <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">that guy</span></i> during the election? He was so calm, so inspiring, so not-stiff. What a time to pull it out -- 6 years later.<br />Poor timing, in my opinion.<?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div>Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-1161144394782783542006-10-18T11:59:00.000+08:002006-10-18T15:11:07.720+08:00Aristocracy Rising -- Phil's View<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/1600/vandyke.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/200/vandyke.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Fairness, hm? When was that ever a right. Moderated by the have's and desired by the havent's. Fairness is merely a virtue that we aspire to teach our kids despite never having experienced it, thus not really knowing how to relate it, either. Fairness compares only to other concepts such as infinity or perfection. Reality, however, is life. It is what you make it. This contrasts to fairness in that you have more control over it. You can change your reality by applying your virtues to your desires. Are you, yes you sitting there behind your lcd screen, going to change how a university accepts its student body or how a president is cultivated? Well, you have more power here than you realize. But don't kid yourself. It will not be in your lifetime. Or perhaps even your daughter's. But your altruism will be of benefit to a few generations below you that you will never meet. They may not realize you were the Butterfly in Beijing but it will be other bloggers 200 years from now seeking fairness from your very descendants. It's a signature of stable government that power and influence are slow to change from one constituency to another. By contrast, a regime that fluctuates in extremes over short periods stands no chance of longevity.Not that fluctuation isn't normal. Or necessary. All in life fluctuates. It is intrinsic to reality and has not been contradicted. From the electron vibrating about a proton, to the galaxies in the universe. To the hand of power among humans. History is abundant with examples. So what if your kid has a lesser chance to enter Harvard. Just as the northern Atlantic is rebuffed by the Norwegian coast, the advancing fjord suddenly does strike deeply into her mainland, albeit in a craggily and twisted path. Your only hope of approaching fairness lies in your desire to provide her the chance to reach a little farther than you could.Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-1160569089450004812006-10-11T20:18:00.000+08:002006-10-13T08:09:14.363+08:00Real Fear<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/1600/pinky.0.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 219px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px" height="156" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/320/pinky.jpg" width="203" border="0" /></a><br /><div class="Section1"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><br />When I got married everyone said that I was going to get fat. I didn’t. Then, when I hit 30, everybody said that I was going to get fat. I didn’t. Now that we’ve got a baby on the way everybody is making a new prediction: “Your lifestyle is going to totally change!” Well . . . maybe.<br />There are things about my life that will almost certainly change. In fact, they’re already changing. I don’t ride the scooter as much, for example. Not that I think that it’s inherently all that much more dangerous that driving the car, but as I don’t have life insurance yet, I try to minimize my two wheel excursions. That’s another thing: I’m looking in to some life insurance. I like the idea of Gisella and the baby and Zelda getting a pile of cash if I get crunched by a bus or fall off a cliff or have a heart attack or buy it in one of the other billion ways to go.<br />I think that that’s my main point. There are a billion and one or two ways to go. Maybe you live in the safest town on the planet. Maybe you’ve got a nice new house and a reinforced, top of the line crash tested Volvo that you drive 2 miles to work through no traffic. Unfortunately, you like to eat and keel over at 45 from a heart attack. So it goes. Or maybe you work out every day, weigh ten pounds less that average, and eat nothing but tofu and carrots. Unfortunately, you eat some bad spinach and die from e. coli. So it goes. Or maybe you avoid bacteria-laden vegetables but like to smoke. Unfortunately, you’re dumb , and die of lung cancer. (S.I.G) Maybe you’re a healthy non-smoking, non-motorcycle riding, spinach avoiding guy, but you happen to live on the West Coast and get nuked by the North Koreans. (And the little bird sings "Pooteeweet.")<br />So when you think about it, there’s really nothing to be scared about because we’re all going to die. It’s just a matter of when. (Better later than sooner, you’re probably thinking. Good point.) Death, while sucky, shouldn’t be something that we’re constantly worried about.<br />There are a lot of things that do really scare me. I don’t want to go into the obvious ones like being completely paralyzed or being buried alive. Those are easy. It’s the less obvious things that we really have to watch out for – the things that, while they might not actually lead to our deaths, might lead to a loss of life.<br />I used to work for an expedition company. Every summer, we would take teenagers on these extended camping trips in Washington state. I worked with a lot of interesting people. Most of them worked the job seasonally and lived out of their cars. In the winter they were ski instructors, and in the spring waiters and waitresses. Or maybe they used the few thousand dollars a year that they made to travel around the world (It’s amazing where you can go when you don’t have a house or a car payment). Anyway, there was one young lady who worked with us who didn’t come from the restaurants or the ski resorts; rather, she was an investment banker. I always admired the fact that she was willing to spend the few days of vacation that she got each year with a bunch of kids camping out in the woods. Still, I couldn’t understand why she was so interested in working so many hours just to make money. When I asked her about it, out conversation went something like this:<br />“So, why do you spend so much time working and making money?”<br />“Well, I think that it’s so important to provide for your family.”<br />“But you don’t have a family . . . “<br />“But I will one day.”<br />“But wouldn’t it be better to have less money but more time to spend with your kids?”<br />“Well, maybe. But what are you going to do if one of them gets sick and only a certain kind of operation will save them, but you can’t afford it?”<br />“Good point . . .”<br />For a while, I couldn’t find a good answer to her remark. It bothered me. Here I was going around and saying that having a lot of money didn’t matter when, in fact, if I didn’t earn a lot of money, my family would die of some rare, but operable illnesses that I couldn’t afford to get treated. It sort of makes sense if you think about it only from a caregiver’s point of view. Then I started thinking about my own father. I appreciated the fact that he was around a lot, even though he didn’t have a lot of money. In fact, as a kid, I would have been horrified to know that he had wasted his whole life just to earn enough money to try to save me from every possible means of buying it – something that I now know is impossible anyway.<br />So while I have to admit that the idea of death holds a modicum of fear for me, my real fear consists not of dying, but of not really living. That's real fear. I'm not going to spend my time trying to live forever. I'm going to enjoy myself and try to keep my head above water. It's the balance that counts. A little money, a little time. A little scooter a little car. A little life, and eventually, hopefully somewhere far down the line, a little death.<br />So it goes.</span></span></p></div>Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-1159709257116088612006-10-01T21:27:00.000+08:002006-10-02T08:17:56.850+08:00Aristocracy Rising<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/1600/gwbushdaddy_yale.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/320/gwbushdaddy_yale.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div class="Section1"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;">Thomas Jefferson said that “<span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">There is a natural aristocracy among men. The grounds of this are virtue and talents.” Apparently, he had it all wrong. Apparently, our aristocracy is one based on wealth and privilege, at least concerning our nation’s most prestigious universities.<?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;">In an article entitled “Poison Ivy”, this month’s <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Economist</span></i> reports that “No less than 60% of the places in elite universities are given to candidates who have some sort of extra ‘hook’, from rich parents to ‘sporting prowess’. Harvard admits 40% of legacy applicants compared to 11% of general applicants. About 25% of students in Notre Dame are the offspring of alumni. <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Boston</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">University</st1:placetype></st1:place> accepted 91% of “faculty brats” in 2003.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;">So what does this mean in practical terms? Apparently, it means that if you come from a rich family, or your parents went there, or you’re above average in fencing or polo, or your parents work there, then you’re a shoe in. So much for the level playing field. Moreover, since salaries are more and more based on the quality of post-secondary education, it means that the rich are more likely to stay rich, and the poor are more likely to stay poor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;">You might be asking yourself, “So what? Shouldn’t people be able to help their kids get into the best university possible? Wouldn’t Jefferson, himself, have used whatever means necessary to get his son accepted to the university of choice?” Well, sure. It’s natural to want the best for your children. That’s just it: <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Everybody</span></i> wants the best for their children. That’s why it’s important to have a <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">fair </span></i>system for university admissions – one based on “virtue and talents” rather than money and influence. It's the job of the parents to get their children into the best university possible; it's the job of the universities to ensure that the admittance procedures are based who-they-are rather than who-they-know.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;">Admissions at colleges of this level can have real-world implications. Think about a kid that you knew from high school. A kid with a nice personality, but not a great GPA – someplace in the “C” range. He’s a fine boy, but not especially dedicated. You both apply to Yale, but although your grades are better, you don’t quite make it, while he rides in on the “legacy” admission standard because his father was a graduate. You go on to become a successful business man, doctor, lawyer, teacher, rocket scientist, . . . whatever. Congratulations! <em>He</em> goes on to become president of the <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">United States</st1:country-region></st1:place>. That's right. Your president, Dubya formerly George Bush, was a "C" student admitted because his father was a VIP alumnus.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;">It just doesn’t seem fair, does it?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="body1"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div>Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-1159446525604397632006-09-28T20:28:00.000+08:002006-09-28T20:32:34.123+08:00Ben Franklin and Boiling Toads<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/1600/ben.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/320/ben.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div class="Section1"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">We’ve been studying Ben Franklin in my junior English class over the last few days, and the more I read, them more I like him. I like him because, for a man of his time, he was especially honest about himself – honest about what he considered to be his virtues and his vices. We read today about his “virtues chart.” This was a chart, an 18<sup>th</sup> century Excel spreadsheet if you will, that he tried to use to reach moral perfection. Two things about this are striking: 1. That he thought that he was capable of reaching perfection, and 2. That he gave up on the chart fairly quickly. I like the first point because I, too, believe that, although a man may never become perfect, he can at least improve himself; I like the second point because I, too, think that man it’s foolish to waste a lot of time trying to overcome habits or qualities, that while morally imperfect, can still be ingratiating and fun – like mild intemperance or venery, for example.<?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">If you didn’t know, <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Franklin</st1:place></st1:city> also wrote <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Poor Richard’s Almanac</span></i>, a collection of aphorisms that he either heard from others or came up with himself. Here are some of my favorites:<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:10;" ><span style="color:#ffffff;">Fish and guests smell after three days. (Just ask my parents. I’m sure that my month-long stay last summer almost killed them.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:10;" ><span style="color:#ffffff;">Three can keep a secret if two are dead. (This was modernized by Tom Cruise when he said, “I’d tell ya’, but then I’d have to kill ya’.”)<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:10;" ><span style="color:#ffffff;">Love your neighbor, but don’t pull down your hedge. (He’s probably peeking in your back window.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">But my favorite <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Franklin</st1:city></st1:place> quip is from the Historical Review of Pennsylvania, 1759 and goes like this: "They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">I’m not one to say that our current situation in the world isn’t dangerous. It is. But what price are we willing to pay to secure our safety? <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">It’s natural to look at another country and think, “They’re out to get us.” I’m sure that some of them really are. And when we hear Condeleeza Rice’s warning about the potential “mushroom cloud” or the president going on and on about the “axis of evil” powers intent on doing us in, it’s easy to feel that it’s our duty as Americans to give of what we have to ensure the country’s security. In this case, what we have is our civil liberties. To protect ourselves from our would-be killers, we give up our protections from our own government. It seems like the logical thing to do. After all, our government is made of good, god-fearing men and women who would use that power only to do good and would never think of abusing it, right?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">My argument against this can be summed up in a brief list of names: Stalin, Pinochet, Hitler, Hussein, Mao, Castro, etc., etc., unfortunately ad nauseam.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">American is not immune to the political and social forces that allowed men like this to rise to power. Just look at Karl Rove, for god’s sake. Think that it can never happen here? Don’t be naïve. All of these men were handed power by a citizenry who trusted in them to use that power wisely and for good. In this respect we’re not different from the rest of the world; a hunger-for-power-and-the-potential-for-the-abuse-thereof gene lives in every race, in every country including our own beloved land of the free. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">A little story that I <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">don’t</span></i> believe can be attributed to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Franklin</st1:place></st1:city> (but is still, I believe, relevant to my point) concerns a toad and some hot water. The theory goes that if a toad were to jump into a pot of boiling water, it would quickly try to jump right out again. However, if one were to place the toad in a pot of cool water and then turn up the heat little by little, the toad wouldn’t realize that it was getting hot until it was dead, bloated, and dancing around in the boiling water.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">Immigrants targeted, jailed, or deported regardless of any relation to terrorism . . .<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">Teachers fired for remarks made against the incumbent president . . .<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">A government itching to nix the Geneva convention bans on torture . . <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">Illegal government wire tapping . . .<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">Election fraud . . .<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">“Enemy combatants” jailed permanently recourse trial . . .<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">The founding fathers, <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Franklin</st1:city></st1:place> among them, set up the government the way they did – Bill of Rights and all – because they knew that any government allowed to abuse its power <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">will abuse its power.</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;color:#ffffff;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">How hot are we going to let it get before we jump out of the pot?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div>Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-1159054007673593312006-09-24T07:26:00.000+08:002006-09-24T07:38:37.266+08:00When George Became Dubya<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/1600/dubya.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6619/2150/320/dubya.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div class="Section1"><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">When Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks told a <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:city st="on">London</st1:city> audience about her shame that George W. Bush is from <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Texas</st1:state></st1:place>, I got upset. How dare she say that when, in fact, he’s from <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Connecticut</st1:state></st1:place>? Contrary to the popular belief that has been largely fueled by his public persona, George W. Bush is not a Texan—or at least he wasn’t born one. Rather, throughout his life he worked to develop his “Texanness” through a hit or miss sort of process, adopting as his own a hodgepodge of the fine qualities that <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">true</span></i> Texans share, but also many of the stereotypes that make us both famous and infamous. Twang by twang and swagger by swagger he became less the <st1:place st="on">New England</st1:place> blue blood, George, and more the cowboy, “Dubya.” As a Texan, myself, I can readily imagine young George’s first images of the state and how they have affected his politics. Here are a few imagined “<st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Texas</st1:state></st1:place>” entries in Little George’s diary:<?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">When Dad drives through town, he waves at people and they wave back. They didn’t do that it <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Connecticut</st1:state></st1:place>. When we moved in, all the neighbors stopped by with food, and when I stopped by Bubba’s house, his mom invited me to dinner. These Texans are really friendly.</span></span></i><span style="FONT-STYLE: normal"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">Even those<i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"> </span></i>who hate his policies have to admit that Dubya is basically a good guy. If he still drank, I’d have him over for a beer. His smile and warm demeanor, the trademark pat on the back and verbal ribbing (the way that he calls journalists “stretch” and “little stretch,”) have helped him to paint over many of the black marks on his presidential record, for example, an unwinnable war in Iraq, or the unconstitutional detainment of “enemy combatants” in Guantanamo Bay. Who can focus on that trivial stuff when he’s serving up Thanksgiving Turkey to our troops or Top-Gunning onto an aircraft carrier to boost troop morale? <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span></i>A little Southern hospitality goes a long way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">Wow, there’s another church. You can’t throw a rock around here without hitting one. We said the Lord’s Prayer before the game today, and my teacher made us raise our hands if we went to church last Sunday. She said if we didn’t, we’d probably end up in Hell. Texans are really religious!<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><st1:state st="on"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">Texas</span></span></st1:state> remains a state still obstinately “under God,” and, outside of <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Austin</st1:city></st1:place>, it’s best not to admit to any doubts as to the existence of “the Lord” in the Judeo-Christian sense. In <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Texas</st1:state></st1:place>, churches tie communities together, and I double-dog dare you to drive down any main street without bumping into a couple of them.<i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"> </span></i>Of course, Dubya didn’t start out as the “born-again” that he is today. (That would contradict the concept of being “born again.”) Instead, he grew up like many other <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Texas</st1:state></st1:place> boys his age – drinking and smoking, driving his truck, playing pick-up ball, and fishing. Not until after the drinking and drugging and hitting rock bottom did the prodigal son come home. After receiving a potentially career / life-ending D.U.I. in <st1:state st="on">Maine</st1:state> after running his car into a bush (a bush, not another Bush) he returned “home” to <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Texas</st1:state></st1:place> and got “saved.<a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn1" href="#_edn1" name="_ednref1"><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;">[i]</span></span></sup></span></sup></span></a>” And just as those not born in Texas fall for it harder than those who were, born-again Christians are often more feverish than most other Christians. God now walks by his side and, in fact, the extra set of footprints in the <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Galveston</st1:city></st1:place> sand leads all the way up the east coast to the White House. Now Dubya heads-up pre-meeting prayers. Attendees wear a tie (males only), just like in church. His faith has led him to ban stem-cell research, to crusade against abortion rights, to appoint an Attorney General so religiously conservative that he spent 8000 taxpayer dollars to cover the one bare breast on the Spirit of Justice statue, and to endorse faith-based social programs, a move that could tumble the already crumbling wall between church and state. <a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn2" href="#_edn2" name="_ednref2"><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;">[ii]</span></span></sup></span></sup></span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">What a slow game of basketball! Guys kept calling their own fouls. I left my wallet in the park, and some guy brought it back -- cash and all! People always want to shake hands when we make a deal. These people are really honest. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">Texans’ greatest strength can also be our greatest weakness. Because we are honest and expect honesty in others, we open ourselves up to deception. In a word: Enron. Enough said. Honesty, though prevalent in small towns and communities, doesn’t extend to the political arena or the “good ole boys” network (which are largely one and the same.) <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">The <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Florida</st1:state></st1:place> recount provides a case in point. A true Texan, more honorable than power hungry, would have allowed the process to move forward, regardless of the outcome. Dubya, in a small-town sense, probably struggled with this one, but sadly, the scene was national and the prize political. Since another Bush just happened to be governor of the state, and the lady calling the punches, the <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Florida</st1:state></st1:place> secretary of state, Katherine Harris, could be classified as a Republican pawn, perhaps the pressure to play dirty just became too great.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">Iraq</span></span></st1:country-region></st1:place> is another great example. Dubya made the case that Hussein had WMD’s either hidden or in the works and a hot line directly to Bin Laden’s secret bunker. <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Of course</span></i> we weren’t interested in the oil. <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Pshaw</span></i>, he told reporters. <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Why would we want the oil when the war is going to cost us more than we could ever recover in oil revenues?</span></i> But any true Texan should have enough horse sense to see through those whoppers. Isn’t it more likely that Dubya just went after the man that tried to off his daddy? Wouldn’t you if you had the <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">U.S.</st1:country-region></st1:place> military in your holster? Sure, it’s costing us a fortune to be there, but it’s not the oil companies that pay. They’re just raking in billions off uncontested government contracts like the one that Halliburton got. The good ole boys strike again.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">Unfortunately for him, one man saw a lie for what it was and blew the whistle. When former Ambassador Joseph Wilson nuked the idea that Saddam had tried to purchase Uranium in <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Niger</st1:country-region></st1:place>, the good ole boys went after his wife, a CIA operative, ratting her out to the press, thereby endangering her and any other agent who might have been associated with her. While Dubya says that he wants to “find the leaker,” there’s been no news yet. So much for calling your own fouls<a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn3" href="#_edn3" name="_ednref3"><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;">[iii]</span></span></sup></span></sup></span></a>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">Everybody asks me if I’m George Senior’s son and then treat me like I’m their cousin or something. The guy at the store didn’t even make me pay for my Coke. Bubba let me into his tree-house gang even though I didn’t know the password. I bet I could work this angle.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: normal;font-size:12;" >Texans work hard and we admire the man (or woman) who lives large. We take pride in being self-made, in providing a good life for ourselves and our families. We’d all have a ranch if we could afford one. There remains in Texans something of the cowboy spirit—the urge to ramble, to be free and independent. And if a ranch is out of our price range, most of us can at least budget in an SUV.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: normal;font-size:12;" >Well, Dubya lives larger than most. Not being born a Texan, perhaps he felt that he had to make up for it by buying a ranch and a major league baseball team. He looks good chain-sawing cedar. Very Texan. In fact, more Texan than about the other 99% of us. See, most of us weren’t born into the kind of wealth that the Bush’s enjoy (and always will, thanks to Dubya killing the inheritance tax.) I feel that it’s important to note that while Dubya has garnered a modicum of success in the last few years, he’s had some advantages that most Texans don’t. For example, he didn’t attend Midland High. He attended <st1:city st="on">Andover</st1:city>, an elite <st1:place st="on">New England</st1:place> private school. Despite a mediocre performance there, he was, not altogether surprisingly, admitted to Yale (his father’s alma mater, go figure). Later, despite a score of 25% on the entrance exam, Dubya became a fighter pilot with the National Guard, thereby avoiding a stint in <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Vietnam</st1:country-region></st1:place>. Yes, he owned (and bankrupted) some oil companies, but certainly hadn’t bought them with money he earned working summers. In fact, before becoming governor of <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Texas</st1:state></st1:place>, he hadn’t done much besides run unsuccessfully for a congressional seat. So, while the ranch is nice, and I admire the sweat, I’ve got to remind myself that Dubya didn’t exactly pull himself up by his bootstraps.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: normal;font-size:12;" ><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">Everybody around here wears boots, so I asked Dad for some today. They’re real nice. Make me look taller and walk a little different. (Is this what they mean by “moseying”?) The men don’t talk much unless it’s about huntin’ or fishin’ or fixin’ the car. Back home, we had people to fix the car for us, and wash it too and take care of the lawn. Everybody here takes care of his own business. These Texans like to go-it-alone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: normal;font-size:12;" >Texas</span></span></i></st1:state></st1:place><span style="FONT-STYLE: normal"> was a country before it was a state, </span>by God<span style="FONT-STYLE: normal">. Nothing is as iconic in the <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Texas</st1:state></st1:place> mentality as the lone wolf, the Texas Ranger, the desperado, the cowboy who rides in and fixes all the problems with a six-shooter and minimal chatter. In fact, one of my personal heroes is Augustus McCrae from </span>Lonesome Dove.<span style="FONT-STYLE: normal"> (I think that one of Bush’s personal heroes must be Col. Call.) Nothing irks a Texan like having to ask for help or admit defeat. Dubya really nailed this one . . . unfortunately. Finding himself in the seat of a superpower, he quickly decided that we didn’t need any friends. If you want something done right, do it yourself; everyone else will just screw it up. Why endorse the Kyoto Treaty just because the rest of civilization does? </span>We don’t need them.<span style="FONT-STYLE: normal"> </span>I’ll bomb the hell outta’ global warming.<span style="FONT-STYLE: normal"> Anti-Ballistic Missile pact with <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Russia</st1:country-region></st1:place>? </span>Why do we need that when we can pay my buddies a bundle for a Star Wars system that will (in theory, at least) protect us from Putin’s little red button?<span style="FONT-STYLE: normal"> The United Nations? </span>Bunch of French-smellin’ pansies. We’re going to <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Iraq</st1:country-region></st1:place> whether they like it or not.<span style="FONT-STYLE: normal"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: normal;font-size:12;" ><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><i><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;">I’m starting to feel a little less homesick every day. I got my new buds to take care of me. I get free cokes. I’m in the tree-house club. Nobody makes fun of me for talkin’ slow anymore. I think I’m going to like this place. No more “George.” I’m a Texan now. Y’all can call me “Dubya.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:12;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div><div style="mso-element: endnote-list"><br clear="all"><hr style="FONT-SIZE: 78%" align="left" width="33%"><br /><div id="edn1" style="mso-element: endnote"><p class="MsoEndnoteText"><a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn1" href="#_ednref1" name="_edn1"><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;">[i]</span></span></sup></span></span></span></sup></span></a> Balz, Dan. “Bush Acknowledges 1976 DUI Arrest.” <u>The <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Washington</st1:state></st1:place> Post</u> 3 May 2000. <http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn?pagename=article&contentID=a4085-2000nov2¬found=true</p></div><div id="edn2" style="mso-element: endnote"><p class="MsoEndnoteText"><a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn2" href="#_ednref2" name="_edn2"><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;">[ii]</span></span></sup></span></span></span></sup></span></a> “Justice Department covers partially nude statues.” <u>USAToday </u>9 January 2002. <http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2002/01/29/statues.htm</p></div><div id="edn3" style="mso-element: endnote"><p class="MsoEndnoteText"><a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn3" href="#_ednref3" name="_edn3"><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><sup><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:10;">[iii]</span></span></sup></span></span></span></sup></span></a> Malveaux, Suzanne. “Bush consults private attorney over CIA leak probe.” <u><span lang="ES-MX">CNN International</span></u><span lang="ES-MX"> 3 June 2004 <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2004/ALLPOLITICS/06/02/bush.leak/">http://edition.cnn.com/2004/ALLPOLITICS/06/02/bush.leak/</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoEndnoteText"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span lang="ES-MX" style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoEndnoteText"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;">Note: I wrote this in the summer of 2005, but after reading it again myself, I’m amazed at how much still applies. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div></div>Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796288.post-1159017697405313902006-09-23T21:21:00.000+08:002006-09-23T21:28:46.270+08:00The U.N. Rub<a href="http://www.un.int/intimages/biglogo1.gif"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.un.int/intimages/biglogo1.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div class="Section1"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;">It’s easy to bash the U.N. I mean, here’s a club that just about anyone can join. You’ve got your democracies, your communist parties, your fascists, your quasi-terrorist organizers all sharing the same dance floor and supposedly trying to “get along.” (<?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Taiwan</st1:place></st1:country-region>, notably can’t join, but that’s another story.) How can you take seriously an organization whose members, when deciding on how to keep the world at peace, routinely vote their own interests – fears, biases, religions, pocket books, etc. -- over what is “right”? Moreover, it can be argued that it’s largely ineffective, at least in the area of keeping the bad guys in line. On the other hand, it <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">is</span></i> effectively a soap box for every wacko world leader wannabe who wants to bash the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-region> while waving around Noam Chomsky books. All in all, it’s really a dreadful entity.<?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;">But here’s the rub: <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">What are our alternatives? </span></i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;">Winston Churchill said, “Democracy is the very <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">worst</span></i> sort of government – except for all of those others.” He meant that despite all of democracy’s shortcomings – the pork-barreling, the pandering, the corruption – it’s still the best system that has been developed to date. If we don’t have democracy, then what are we left with? Answer: Something worse. So from that perspective, let’s examine some of the purposes that the U.N. serves (although maybe not so well).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;">Although the assembly might be a place where even the worst kind of people get their say, at least they’re <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">talking</span></i> and not <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">bombing</span></i>. So what if they like to badmouth the <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">U.S.</st1:country-region></st1:place>? There are worse things that can happen. Sticks and stones. Let them blow off their steam. Leaders are always harangued just like even the best boss is occasionally lambasted by his employees. At least the bad guys are using a forum where we can keep our eye on them. It would be facetious to say that nothing good comes out of the talks. In fact, any talk tends to be good talk. Imagine the world like it was at the beginning of the 20<sup>th</sup> century before the <st1:place st="on">League of Nations</st1:place> when European countries squared off against each other just to see who was tougher. A big part of the problem was that there existed no forum for communication. In some way it was easier to fight it out than to talk it out. If you don’t communicate with your enemies, it’s easier to maintain the belief that they’re faceless monsters who want to eat our children. You might say that “talk is cheap” and that we should stick our foot up the ass of whatever country threatens us. I would point to <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Iraq</st1:place></st1:country-region> and say that you’re right: talk <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">would have been</span></i> a lot cheaper than the mess we’re in there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;">The idea that the U.N. is ineffective carries a lot of water. O<i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">f course</span></i> the U.N. is largely powerless. The <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-region> helps to keep it that way. An organization like the U.N. can never be greater than the sum of its parts. President Bush bashes and undermines the U.N., then complains that it’s ineffective. Go figure. It won’t be powerful until we make it that way by supporting it with both our words and our dollars. To those who complain about trusting in the U.N. or sending them our money, I say this: It would have been a lot cheaper in lives and currency to have trusted Hans Blix over the warmongers and oil companies. Again, we have to use our imagination: what would the world look like if the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-region> acted as a role model for the rest of the world by <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">truly</span></i> supporting the U.N. mission? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;">I can understand some of the arguments against this; for example, why would we want to grant too much power to an entity that could one day come to threaten us? Why would we want to support an international court that could possibly try some of our very own as war criminals? I wouldn’t put that kind of trust in a body that is so clearly influenced by the political interests and wacko’s mentioned above. There are serious, potentially fatal, limitations. On the other hand, there are serious problems with the alternatives. War is expensive in lives, money, and environmental impact. I, for one, would rather listen to Chavez rave for an hour than send my children to war.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;">The rub keeps on rubbing. The U.N., if not broken, is at least seriously flawed. Should we disband it? No. We might as well just rev up the nukes. Should we reform it? Yes. Take what we’ve got, support it, and make it work. It will never be perfect. <i><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">No</span></i> governmental body is perfect – or even close to it. Unfortunately, for the moment, it’s the best thing – the only thing really -- that we’ve got.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div>Brian Longbothamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379509269693317292noreply@blogger.com1