Hey…this site is in dire need of an update, but right now I seem to have procured a fever out of the blue and don’t feel like doing much other than sleeping. So, for now, here’s the new teaser for Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, from where the stills of the other day were procured. Enjoy. Update: Back down from 101 to normal today…my guess is food poisoning of some kind or another.
Tag: KcM
Excuses, excuses.
Sorry it’s been quieter than usual around here. It’s the end of term, meaning much grading and many history department functions around these parts.
The Home Front.
As many of y’all know, despite being a PhD student here at Columbia, I very rarely post about the newsmaking disputes that occasionally roil our campus. (Does it reflect badly on my academic gravitas that I spend more time at GitM discussing national politics, movie trailers, and online Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out knockoffs than ideological dust-ups closer to home? Well, so be it.)
That being said, two links of note. First, in the Financial Times, Ian Buruma — with the aid of one of my colleagues, Moshik Temkin — offers what I thought was one of the more sober-minded summaries I’ve read of the recent MEALAC controversy at Columbia. As he puts it, “racism exists, but not all Israeli policies towards Palestinians, however harsh, are inspired by racism. And…not all criticism of Israeli policies is the result of anti-Jewish prejudice. Yet these are the terms in which modern political debates are increasingly couched..”
Second, regarding the recent one-week graduate student strike on campus (which I voted against, due to concerns not unlike the ones I held last year, but respected by not crossing the picket and reviewing paper drafts from home), The Nation‘s Jennifer Washburn offers a write-up which connects the two buzz issues of unionization and academic freedom and includes an unearthed internal memo, signed by provost (and my dissertation advisor) Alan Brinkley, which suggests possible punitive measures to prevent future strikes.
I’ve already written about this at length on the (no longer) internal grad-student-historian listserv, and don’t really feel like getting into it in depth again here. Suffice to say that, while the document does seem uncharacteristic of Prof. Brinkley (as an aside, it reads like it was written by a member of his staff, although obviously it still carries his imprimatur), I am neither surprised nor all that dismayed by this memo. In the face of our continued strike actions, it seems perfectly appropriate to me for the administration — and the university provost, for that matter — to brainstorm both positive and punitive ways to mitigate future disruptions. All this means is that, come the next strike, it may well be time for the rubber to hit the road, and for graduate students who believe in unionization to make real financial sacrifices for our beliefs, as strikers in any other line of work are forced to do. (Of course, given that none of these proposed measures appear to have been enacted this time around, perhaps not.)
In fact, I think there’s actually a silver lining here for pro-union graduate students. For one, I expect this memo will do more to galvanize the movement than all of last week’s ill-conceived strike. For another, perhaps a heightened sense of what a strike actually constitutes might encourage more out-of-the-box thinking and political calculation by union leadership, rather than the “strike-only, strike-first” ideology that afflicts the upper echelons of our organization at the moment. To use an analogy I’m kinda fond of (for obvious reasons), the only way to get to Mars is by spaceship, but you don’t send it before it’s good and ready. Right now, our Mission Control keeps hitting the launch button before we’ve plotted a trajectory or even built the darned thing.
Update: I’ve since been informed in a personal e-mail that I’m both a “Brinkley apologist” (because I clearly don’t share the vitriol of the Palpatine Unmasked contingent) and a “scab.” (Shouldn’t have looked at those drafts, I guess…) You see, this is exactly why I post about Arthur Dent here much more than I do Columbia inside-baseball. Which reminds me, that Frusion Punch-Out link was via Usr/Bin/Grl.
I can see my house from here…
To the consternation of some privacy advocates, Google unveils its funky new satellite map feature. I’m not too worried yet — the images are apparently between 6-12 months old…but wait, isn’t that Berk and I frolicing in Riverside Park? (Direct link via Supercres.) Update: In keeping with the meme (seen at Girlhacker), here’s home from above. This satellite image is at least a year old, as attested by the missing Columbia School for Social Work across the street — it’s been completed since last summer.
Don’t judge the judges.
Without naming names (*cough* DeLay), Vice-President Cheney wisely flees from the idea of “retribution” against Schiavo judges.
By the way, since I didn’t mention this earlier and probably should get it in writing — family, friends, loved ones, and any federal judges forced by right-wing hoopla to get involved — if at some point I fall into a persistent vegetative state with little-to-no hope of recovery, I would prefer to die with some sense of dignity, and not have the Republican Party use my prostrate body as a get-out-the-vote strategy for conservative crazies. Thanks much.
Also, please don’t play any Meatloaf or Celine Dion at my funeral, and try to launch my remains in a direction other than right at Genesis. In fact, a ship to Valinor would probably be preferable.
Of Books and Bears.
A couple of navel-gazing notes from the past few weeks:
* I’ve successfully defended my dissertation prospectus, currently and very drably titled “The Legacy of Reform: Progressive Persistence in National Politics, 1920-1928.” So, now I’m really ABD (All But Dissertation), and all systems are go for my upcoming writing year.
* Although it won’t be out until October, and will require some minor last-minute revisions right up until then (to account for new developments such as the Pope’s probable passing), I’ve spent the past fall and winter researching and editing — and have now finished up — a third collaboration with Democratic commentator Bill Press, entitled How the Republicans Stole Christmas: The Republican Party’s Declared Monopoly on Religion and What Democrats Can Do to Take it Back. In a nutshell (and as you probably guessed from the title), its very timely argument is “The Religious Right is neither religious nor right.” At any rate, since the book is basically in the can and the book cover has made it to Amazon, it seems as good a time as any to tell y’all about it.
* “If you go out in the woods today, you’re in for a big surprise…” Steve Belcher, a high school friend of mine who recently finished a stint at the NY Film Academy — he’s the fellow I was making a few short films with over the winter — has sent along “Sleeping In,” his first very short project, in fabulous Quicktime. Just goes to show, pretty much can anything happen in Central Park these days.
In the Mouth of Madness.
Greetings from a friend’s laptop — March Madness in Santa Clara continues apace…my bracket remained in decent shape until last night’s 2OT Wake-WV thriller, which knocked out one of my Final Four. (That and the Vermont-Syracuse match-up have probably been the two best Games of the Tourney so far.) Otherwise, my weekend’s been split between pick-up basketball games and convalescing. The good news is I think I’ve finally turned the corner on my recent flu (thanks to plenty of rest and liberal application of Jamba Coldbusters)…hopefully, tonight’s Red Eye flight back East won’t precipitate a relapse.
Bay-Ball.
Hey y’all…given that it’s Spring Break here at Columbia and March Madness is fast upon us, I’m off to the Bay Area today to catch up with old friends and watch ungodly amounts of college basketball, as per our yearly ritual. (I wish I’d kicked this nasty cough before I left, but oh well.) At any rate, expect updates to resume around here next week, and have a safe and happy St. Patrick’s Day.
Backslide.
Just two days ago, it was 70 degrees out, all the snow was melting, and I was happily running along in Riverside Park thinking Spring had arrived. Alas, one wintry March snowstorm later, I’ve contracted some kinda lingering bug and now sound like Leonard Cohen. You’d think Robitussin, like most things, would be more palatable as an adult than as a kid. But, no, whatever your age, it’s still a foul, foul elixir.
The Wookie and the Droid.
For the last time, Berkeley, this is not the droid you’re looking for. As any of you who’ve met me in person know, I love the little guy, but sheltie hair is the bane of my existence — it’s invariably all over my carpet, clothes, possessions, etc. (If I ever tried to commit a serious crime, the CSI guys would be at my doorstep in 24-48 hours, carrying Ziploc bags full of the stuff.) Whatsmore, Berk’s archnemesis (other than possibly the Door Buzzer) is the Vacuum Cleaner. Whenever I had it out (which was often, due to the endless shedding), he’d go absolutely ballistic, barking up a storm you can hear in the lobby five floors down.
So, given that my old vacuum had died yet again (which has twice cost me $100 to fix), and that I had to go to Toshi Station to pick up some power converters anyway, I procured my first Roomba droid early this afternoon. Alas, it doesn’t speak Bocce, but I must admit, it does a pretty solid job of haphazardly sweeping every corner of my nook-and-cranny-filled apartment. Plus, it’s a droid. How cool is that?
As for Berk’s reaction, the jury is still out. On one hand, he doesn’t recognize the (quieter) Roomba unit as a member of the Vacuum clan, so mercifully there’s no more barking. But, he definitely doesn’t seem to like it tooling around his territory either, and spent most of its first cycle trying to flip it. Ah well, baby steps. I’m sure I’ll have ’em playing holographic chess in no time…Roomba, let the Berkeley win.