Ideally, I’m in favor of school choice because I believe that competition inherently improves the quality of any service. Unfortunately, there are schools that actively oppose teaching certain subjects on the grounds that it would “offend” their “customers” sensibilities (I’m looking at you, Cobb County, and your idiotic evolution disclaimers as well as nearly every religiously-affiliated school in America). That being said, I am a big proponent of public education at all levels. Education is not about making people feel good by reaffirming their bias; it is about challenging those beliefs in the quest to understand the world. Education is about critical thinking and developing new ideas based on currently documented fact and understanding. Effective public education is a capital investment made by the state to the benefit of all its citizens, but it does not carry a profit motive that can be accurately measured in dollars and cents—which is further obscured because it is amortized over generations! Education is not about grades and standardized testing. It is about people. Education is not about making sure kids get into a good college; it is about making sure those kids can function in modern society while understanding where they came from and how they got to where they are.
Do I believe that there are failing public schools? Yes.
Do I believe that there are public schools that excel at what they do? Absolutely.
How do I propose fixing it? I’m not entirely sure. I have no experience or training in that field. Maybe I should ask Betsy DeVos?
“For those who may ask what they can do to honor Neil, we have a simple request. Honor his example of service, accomplishment and modesty, and the next time you walk outside on a clear night and see the moon smiling down at you, think of Neil Armstrong and give him a wink.” Continue reading Neil Armstrong (1930-2012)→
“Everything that happens before Death is what counts.”
–Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes
Earlier this week, one of the greatest writers of our time (or any time) was taken from us. I freely admit that I might have lifted a copy of Fahrenheit 451 from my school library, and it became one of those books that just changes your perspective forever. Like The Power of Myth, 1984, and Anthem, Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit spoke to me in a way that few books ever can. In addition, as an avid fan of The Twilight Zone, Bradbury holds a special place for having written several episodes of the series. So, to memorialize Mr. Bradbury, I just wanted to mark the end of the week with a post about him and top it off with a fitting tribute piece from a fellow DA Deviant, Gabriel Rodriguez.
In case you missed it Tuesday, the 2012 transit of Venus across the sun was one of the very rare astronomical events we “regular folk” can watch and appreciate with little scientific instrumentation. Like eclipses, transits are one of the few “sciency things” that garner public attention and appreciation any more. Tuesday’s transit, lasting about 6 hours, was the last time Earthlings will get to see our “sister planet” until December 2117. Fortunately, our technology has improved a little bit since the last pair of transits, and we have been afforded multiple opportunities to watch the actual event. I was watching the live webcast from the NOAA Mauna Loa Observatory in Hawaii.
Events like this always strike me with a real sense of scale and I am imbued with renewed reverence for the Universe itself and for modern science’s efforts to understand it. Venus is nearly the same size as our own planet, yet it looks so small against the burning disc of the sun. There are sunspots that look like tiny flecks on Sol’s surface which are, in reality, large enough to swallow our world whole. Even solar prominences–massive plumes of plasma arcing across the solar surface–that could swallow Jupiter (a planet with a diameter 11 times that of our Earth’s) with little effort.
NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center released a stunning time-lapse video of the transit that’s available on YouTube and free download from their website. The footage was shot from the Solar Dynamics Observatory and shows the transit in various wavelengths with varying levels of detail. From Goddard Multimedia:
The videos and images displayed here are constructed from several wavelengths of extreme ultraviolet light and a portion of the visible spectrum. The red colored sun is the 304 angstrom ultraviolet, the golden colored sun is 171 angstrom, the magenta sun is 1700 angstrom, and the orange sun is filtered visible light. 304 and 171 show the atmosphere of the sun, which does not appear in the visible part of the spectrum.
The professor told his class one day: “Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple: Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.”
The following was turned in by two of his English students: Rebecca and Gary.
(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago.
“A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,” he said into his transgalactic communicator. “Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far…” But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. “Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,” Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she pondered wistfully.
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid, Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table.
“We can’t allow this! I’m going to veto that treaty! Let’s blow ’em out of the sky!”
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.
Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. “Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F–KING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I’m such an air-headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!”
FUCK YOU, YOU NEANDERTHAL!
Go drink some tea, whore.
The pair received an A+ for their realistic portrayal of gender dynamics.
I have long been a critic of the Transportation Security Administration and its parent Department of Homeland Security since their inception following the attacks on September 11, 2001. That is not to say that I don’t think that we should have security at our airports, but that we should have more commonsense policies that don’t rely on a strategy of general harassment and exploitation of the flying public. The TSA strategy is generally reactive (please remove your shoes because that one guy tried to make them a bomb) and encumbered by bureaucracy. This sort of thing has led to labour slowdowns, periodic line freezes, and other general annoyances that do nothing to hinder terrorism while doing everything to annoy and patronise the flying public. In a way, the TSA simply proves that the terrorists won.
TSA: A Portrait of Inefficiency, Ineptitude, and Waste.
The trouble with a history course centered around film is that one has to rely on Hollywood’s warped sense of historical accuracy. Generally speaking, reality doesn’t sell as well as something written by a halfway-creative studio ferret. In addition, directors, writers, and producers often have their own agendas to push through their work, so much of the accuracy gets distorted in the intricate process of filmmaking. However, one does the best that one can do with the arguably massive cinematic library that has been produced in the past hundred years or so. Even so, there are still some good picks and some not-as-good.
Besides being one of the most brilliant pieces of cinema ever created, Unforgiven made a place for itself as a revisionist western. Instead of romanticizing the pragmatic struggle against the elements—taming the land, and carving out a space for oneself on the frontier, the film shows the truth of life in the American wilderness: the lawlessness, the corruption, and the sheer danger encountered in the Old West. Until this point, the Western genre had mainly focused on the shimmering, wide-eyed optimism that almost reverberated tones of original “Go West” advertising campaigns that proliferated throughout the Eastern Seaboard of the 19th century. Gone, now, is the swaggering, lonesome hero in favour of the more historically-accurate pragmatist just trying to survive. In addition to being an excellent film, this—to me—makes Unforgiven particularly effective at exemplifying life on the American frontier and illustrating the historical context of the push westward.
In The Heat of The Night is another particularly brilliant piece of cinema that also quite effectively highlights historical issues prevalent in the time period that it was made and set. Sydney Poitier’s Virgil Tibbs is thrust into the middle of a murder case in a small Southern town, which, adding insult to injury, happens to be quite contrary to the idea of a black man being so competent in the ways of homicide investigation. Initially, Tibbs is arrested on suspicion of murder solely by virtue of his being alone in a train station in the middle of the night with a pocket full of cash—something no innocent “negro” would be able to possess. The folly of the Sparta police department is further exemplified by their constant jumping to conclusions and arresting the wrong suspects while Tibbs digs further into places “he doesn’t belong” such as the local town Boss’s personal life. Tibbs’s struggle to obtain (and subsequently maintain) legitimacy in the eyes of the local police reflects the struggles of black people at large to obtain equal status in the eyes of the white majority not just in the South, but all across the country. At the same time, Tibbs also earns the respect and even the friendship of the chief of police. Eventually, the corrupt, old-world establishment is overturned, and things in Sparta begin to show signs of hope and change for the better just as the sixties and seventies did for the majority of blacks in America.
Although it is probably one of my new favourite films, and certainly worth watching for its cinematic merits, There Will Be Blood showed less about the pragmatism and pioneer spirit of the Westward Movement and more about the corruption and deceit of “Big Oil” and the megalomaniacs that allegedly run such “Big” industries: oil, steel, the railroad, and even modern entities like broadcast media. To me, the movie was more an allegory about the dangers of rampant, unchecked capitalism which came about after the West was “won.” Prime example is the fact that the plot is mostly set in the early years of the 20th century and centers around a man who doesn’t simply wish to survive, but who wants to build his own little revenue empire and—quite literally—wipe out all his competition. Daniel Day-Lewis’s Daniel Plainview did, at first, embody the pragmatic and individualist mindset of the Old West (note his surely-excruciating crawl back to town after breaking his leg in a mining accident), but as time moved on, his wealth and power began to corrupt him until he became a twisted wreck of a man with no family beating a clergyman to death with a bowling pin. “I’m finished!” Finished growing (as a country), and finished exploring (as a people).
The Last of The Mohicans probably sits at the top of my short list of films that did not effectively communicate the historical era they were intended to highlight. The Last of The Mohicans felt more like it belonged on The Wonderful World of Disney alongside Davy Crockett and other purely adventure serials. In addition to being a particularly sub-par film overall, the plot focuses mostly on how insipid the British are. In fact, the only real example of the pragmatism and willingness of the American spirit is in Daniel Day-Lewis’s Hawkeye providing a foil to the British army commanders. Hawkeye emphasises retreat and regrouping that will allow American settlers to tend their homes and farms in opposition to the British mandate that all able-bodied men be conscripted to fight the French (who ultimately win, anyway). Overshadowing the clash between the two ideologies and adding fuel to the already hot fire, is the apparent cockfight over the attraction of the female lead—both sides trying to wrench power in order to demonstrate their prowess and win the hand of the trope maiden. The only thing that makes this melodrama even remotely about early America and the Westward movement is the fact that it incorporates Native Americans into the plot and setting. Unfortunately, they are—as Mark Twain eloquently put it—“Cooper Indians,” one-dimensional characters that really only serve as an enhanced setting element. If this were a science-fiction film instead of a “Western” (when it really isn’t, it’s a melodrama), then the Mohawk would be Star Trek’s “red shirts” and the Huron are Star Wars’s Stormtroopers. Both are essentially faceless and serve only to advance the plot and provide some level of authenticity to the weak battle scenes.
As noted before, There Will Be Blood, is not only my favourite film sampled in this course, it is also on my list of all-time favourites. The cinematography is unparalleled at capturing the desolation of early California and the music resonates just enough to send a chill down your spine. Outside the dialogue, the viewer already knows that there is something not to like about Daniel Plainview, and, as the plot develops, he understands why the film imparts such a creepy vibe. Within the script, the film has already spawned such quotable lines as “I drink your milkshake!” and “I’m finished!” while the overall tone of the film warns us of the dangers associated with “big” industries and unchecked capitalism.
Throughout the course, the film I liked the very least was Far From Heaven. As a retrospective period piece, the film took a harsh look at “WASPy” New England society in the 1950’s, and deconstructed it to study the human element behind the masks of propriety. The characters where highly stereotyped, and it just felt like watching some kind of dance by grotesque caricatures. In the end, there was no feeling of sympathy for any of the characters, no sense of development, and certainly no sense of loss from the deconstruction of their lives. Everyone just lives on, moderately content ever after. Such lukewarm films serve no real purpose except as an exercise in cinematography, which is what the film felt like—an internship piece for a budding director of photography.
The brain is like a muscle. When it is in use we feel very good. Understanding is joyous.
This is one of my foremost favourite lectures by cosmologist Carl Sagan who might also happen to be within the higher levels of my own pantheon of personal heroes. In this video, Sagan explains physical dimensions beyond our familiar three-dimensional perception, and does it in such a way that even a child could grasp the concept. The only problem is that the more curious of us might be led to delve much deeper. Get ready for a serious mind job.
Author’s Note: This question was posed to me via Formspring.me (http://www.formspring.me/matteargle), and I thought it politically significant enough to weigh in on here as well.
I’m not quite sure where to go with this question. Firstly, lesbians depress me because those are two perfectly good females that have taken themselves of the dating pool. Well, I say PERFECTLY good, some of them are rather scary. Yikes. Gay men are fine with me because they reduce competition and are often fun to watch in their antics (as in Queer Eye for the Straight Guy or that air traffic controller character in Airplane!).
Seriously, though, I guess I should weigh in as if this were a heavier issue, because it is very real.
Honestly, I don’t think open homosexuality is causing quite as much damage to our society as a lot of people tend to put on. Two men (or women; or a man and a woman, for that matter) having a consensual sexual relationship has ABSOLUTELY NO IMPACT on my right to life, liberty, or security. If a homosexual couple wants to be committed to each other, be legally responsible to each other, and bear all the rights and responsibilities associated with marriage, by all means, they should be allowed to!
“But wait, Atari, marriage is defined as a union between a man and a woman!”
If that’s your religious belief, then that’s fine, just don’t press it upon anyone else. While you’re at it, let me have my science textbooks without a disclaimer, please. Marriage is a RELIGIOUS sacrament, not a LEGAL one. The government has no place to tell me who I can or can not marry, that is only up to me and God. I am of the opinion that we, as a people, should do away with the “legal marriage” idea and replace it with a “civil union” or some such title. A justice of the peace can still officiate a wedding, if you so prefer, but that is up to your RELIGIOUS preference. If you don’t believe that God cares that you were married by a civil judge or a ship’s captain, then that’s your perogative. A judge can issue a legally binding certificate of unity (commonly called a “marriage license”) to those couples that meet certain obvious legal requirements (age, blood separation, etc.), but there should be no requirement that stipulates that a (wo)man can not be legally bonded to another (wo)man. A priest (rabbai, judge, tribal elder, military officer, chaplain, helicopter captain; whoever either holds civil/military command over the sacramental ground or between the couple and God) of the couple’s choosing can then perform a RELIGIOUS ceremony to avow their marriage.
“But wait, Atari, how can it be a religious ceremony if it’s not performed by a religious leader?”
As I alluded to before, I’m using “religion” in this sense to describe any set of values and beliefs you hold to be true. If you believe a priest has a much power to avow a marriage as a civil justice of the peace or a ship’s captain, then that’s between you and your God(s).
“Now, Atari, you just contradicted yourself! You said that the government has no place telling you who to marry and, later in the same paragraph, said that there were ‘certain obvious legal requirements’ to marriage. What gives?”
Seriously? Are you going to call me on that? Anyone below the age of consent (or age of majority, really) should not be allowed to marry. Sexually abusive fathers should not be able to marry their young daughters, just to “make it right.” These are obvious provisions that, unfortunately, any society would have to accept for protection of others’ life, liberty, and security.
As far as consequences from homosexuality, I’m going to assume “negative” consequences. Obviously, there are public displays of affection between homosexuals, and I suppose that more conservative parents would take offense to their children seeing such actions. Frankly, I don’t want to see two guys making out either, but I’m not going to stare at it. Govern yourself, people. I don’t particularly like Emo kids, but I don’t think that shitty bands should be outlawed. Parents can be honest to children, like mine were, saying that they were adults and that children should never engage in such behaviour noting that I would understand when I was older. I honestly think that if everyone had a little more respect for each other, the problem would eliminate itself.
I think the biggest problem facing homosexuals and society, in general, is this so-called “gay pride.” People who are overtly, over-the-top, hilariously gay are setting the equality movement back decades. Martin Luther King, Jr. did so much for equal rights for blacks and minorities because he led PEACEFUL protests, FIRMLY, but RESPECTFULLY, demanding equal treatment. These homosexual “shock mobs” (as I just found out that I like to call them) only succeed in (pardon my French) pissing people off, making more enemies, and detracting any would-be allys from their cause. If you (homosexual “shock mobs”) want to be taken seriously, don’t parade around in drag, leopard print bikinis, or other fetish gear, show us (the heterosexual population) that you are capable of being legitimately respectable, productive members of society. On that note, I’m not saying that there’s no room for flamboyance. I have friends that are very obviously (read: “stereotypically”) homosexual, but it doesn’t mean that they’re not respectable and productive members of society. I’m just saying that what you do behind closed doors is your business, there is no need to make it the world’s.