Spring is Plaguing Me
I sit, needing to grade, but unable to focus. Piles and piles of printed essays scorn and taunt me, but my mind refuses to listen. My conscience does a little dance trying to get my attention, but I am lost.
Tomorrow. Will I find my way then? Will the grading be done? Will I care?
And outside the warmth beckons with the sunny siren song; the greenery erupting in the reaching arms of the trees whispering soothingly through the breeze. Thoughts flutter and ideas bounce close and then fade into the recesses of my mind.
The blooming hillsides distract me; they draw me from my path of productivity.
All remains undone.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
Friday, April 13, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Doggie Update
I saw the blind woman and her dog again. This time I was sans dogs and thus more able to focus my anthropological eye on their actions.
After observing the dog sniff, tug, and basically not lead the woman anywhere, my conclusion confirms a hypothesis Sara had shared with me earlier: it is not an eye-seeing guide dog, but rather a blind woman with a dog.
As to Zephyr, she sustained some nicks and scratches during the squirrel incident. She really is not a tough dog. However, she now thinks she is a tough dog. The evidence? Dogs that want to mark their presence somewhere often scratch the ground with their hind legs after urinating or defecating. Zeus does it all the time, but Zephyr has never done it. Until yesterday.
I guess that squirrel was a right of passage of some sort.
One last thing. Heliosphan mentioned that she wondered what her dog was dreaming about. I am waiting for Steve Jobs and his pals at Apple to come up with iDog dream visualizer. Now that would be one gadget I would certainly buy.
I saw the blind woman and her dog again. This time I was sans dogs and thus more able to focus my anthropological eye on their actions.
After observing the dog sniff, tug, and basically not lead the woman anywhere, my conclusion confirms a hypothesis Sara had shared with me earlier: it is not an eye-seeing guide dog, but rather a blind woman with a dog.
As to Zephyr, she sustained some nicks and scratches during the squirrel incident. She really is not a tough dog. However, she now thinks she is a tough dog. The evidence? Dogs that want to mark their presence somewhere often scratch the ground with their hind legs after urinating or defecating. Zeus does it all the time, but Zephyr has never done it. Until yesterday.I guess that squirrel was a right of passage of some sort.
One last thing. Heliosphan mentioned that she wondered what her dog was dreaming about. I am waiting for Steve Jobs and his pals at Apple to come up with iDog dream visualizer. Now that would be one gadget I would certainly buy.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
A Dog's Life
Since I have no life, I have to resort to writing about the dogs' adventures. And today was quite an eventful day for them.
We went for a long walk and visited one of the local dog runs. There they got harassed a bit by an overly exuberant Lab puppy. Zephyr was very adept at communicating through her body language that she was not going to stand for any funny business. Zeus had a more difficult time. He could not decide whether he wanted to play or be annoyed. Of course this indecision just encouraged the teasing by the Lab.
As we left, we were walking through the park and we spotted a squirrel. If we are far from a street and there aren't a lot of people around. I will let Zeus go and let him pursue the squirrel. He starts off slow, stalking the prey. He then picks up his pace as he nears the target or if the critter makes a break for it. Usually the squirrel runs up a tree and Zeus is left looking eagerly up into the branches. Meanwhile Zephyr and I run behind catching up with Zeus at the base of the tree.
Today, however, the squirrel ran past a perfectly good tree to climb up. Big mistake. What happened next took place in what seemed like slow motion. Zeus caught up with the squirrel and manged to latch on to its tail. He jerked at it and flung it up into the air where it rotated head over tail. Then as it was coming down, Zephyr lunged out of nowhere and caught it by its back legs. She then flung it to the side. Zeus was about to get it when I managed to step on his leash, stopping his progress. The limping squirrel was then able to escape to the safety of a tree.
I wasn't sure whether to feel proud or embarrassed or concerned. I felt bad for the squirrel. As much as I despise them, especially when they have tortured Zeus or when they were living in our attic, it still pained me to see it injured. I also felt like the whole world was looking at me and judging my vicious dogs that go around killing wild life. But then a little part of me was proud: my dogs got a squirrel!
Zeus and Zephyr were visibly proud of their accomplishment. It almost seemed like they knew that they had worked as a team and if it had not been for some unfortunate external intervention that squirrel would have been toast (or at least a snack).
Our adventures did not end there. Almost back to our apartment, we were about to pass a woman with a big black dog, some kind of lab mix. The dog spotted us and began to tug. He got away and began to sniff Zephyr while the woman yelled at it to stop. In these situations, I let Zephyr handle the social encounter and place myself between Zeus and the dog. Zeus does not do well in these situations, while Zephyr is quite used to social interaction. However, even Zephyr felt this dog was getting a bit too friendly and began to snap at it. Zeus tried to come to her rescue, but I managed to keep my body between him and the dog. In contrast to the squirrel experience, this one seemed to be happening in quick mode. At a certain point, I hear the woman yell, "Sir, can you help me? It is a seeing eye dog and I am blind!" I look up and I see the woman meandering around. I managed to reach down and grab the dog's leash. At this point all the canine parties calmed down. It was a bit bizarre, but I was in charge. I took the dog over to the woman and placed the leash in her hand. I asked her if she needed help or wanted me to walk them somewhere. She declined.
I am not sure what kind of seeing eye dog that was, but it certainly seemed like one that dropped out of training school. It certainly did not obey any of the commands and it actually could have put that woman in danger.
So that was our day. The dogs then got to nap the rest of the afternoon while I went grocery shopping, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, and made a Spanish tortilla.
At one point, Sara caught Zephyr twitching in her sleep and wondered whether she was dreaming about the squirrel. She probably was, she probably was...
Since I have no life, I have to resort to writing about the dogs' adventures. And today was quite an eventful day for them.
We went for a long walk and visited one of the local dog runs. There they got harassed a bit by an overly exuberant Lab puppy. Zephyr was very adept at communicating through her body language that she was not going to stand for any funny business. Zeus had a more difficult time. He could not decide whether he wanted to play or be annoyed. Of course this indecision just encouraged the teasing by the Lab.
As we left, we were walking through the park and we spotted a squirrel. If we are far from a street and there aren't a lot of people around. I will let Zeus go and let him pursue the squirrel. He starts off slow, stalking the prey. He then picks up his pace as he nears the target or if the critter makes a break for it. Usually the squirrel runs up a tree and Zeus is left looking eagerly up into the branches. Meanwhile Zephyr and I run behind catching up with Zeus at the base of the tree.
Today, however, the squirrel ran past a perfectly good tree to climb up. Big mistake. What happened next took place in what seemed like slow motion. Zeus caught up with the squirrel and manged to latch on to its tail. He jerked at it and flung it up into the air where it rotated head over tail. Then as it was coming down, Zephyr lunged out of nowhere and caught it by its back legs. She then flung it to the side. Zeus was about to get it when I managed to step on his leash, stopping his progress. The limping squirrel was then able to escape to the safety of a tree.
I wasn't sure whether to feel proud or embarrassed or concerned. I felt bad for the squirrel. As much as I despise them, especially when they have tortured Zeus or when they were living in our attic, it still pained me to see it injured. I also felt like the whole world was looking at me and judging my vicious dogs that go around killing wild life. But then a little part of me was proud: my dogs got a squirrel!
Zeus and Zephyr were visibly proud of their accomplishment. It almost seemed like they knew that they had worked as a team and if it had not been for some unfortunate external intervention that squirrel would have been toast (or at least a snack).
Our adventures did not end there. Almost back to our apartment, we were about to pass a woman with a big black dog, some kind of lab mix. The dog spotted us and began to tug. He got away and began to sniff Zephyr while the woman yelled at it to stop. In these situations, I let Zephyr handle the social encounter and place myself between Zeus and the dog. Zeus does not do well in these situations, while Zephyr is quite used to social interaction. However, even Zephyr felt this dog was getting a bit too friendly and began to snap at it. Zeus tried to come to her rescue, but I managed to keep my body between him and the dog. In contrast to the squirrel experience, this one seemed to be happening in quick mode. At a certain point, I hear the woman yell, "Sir, can you help me? It is a seeing eye dog and I am blind!" I look up and I see the woman meandering around. I managed to reach down and grab the dog's leash. At this point all the canine parties calmed down. It was a bit bizarre, but I was in charge. I took the dog over to the woman and placed the leash in her hand. I asked her if she needed help or wanted me to walk them somewhere. She declined.
I am not sure what kind of seeing eye dog that was, but it certainly seemed like one that dropped out of training school. It certainly did not obey any of the commands and it actually could have put that woman in danger.
So that was our day. The dogs then got to nap the rest of the afternoon while I went grocery shopping, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, and made a Spanish tortilla.
At one point, Sara caught Zephyr twitching in her sleep and wondered whether she was dreaming about the squirrel. She probably was, she probably was...
Sunday, April 01, 2007
What I Learned Today (or didn't)...
Sara and I went to the American Museum of Natural History today. There were some things I liked and others which were disappointing. The hardest part was negotiating the halls that were teeming with screeching children and MadMax-like strollers driven by parents that seemed to be on the brink of a psychotic break.
The subway rides there and back proved to be equally interesting. On the way there we were surrounded by a woman who seemed to be quite young (late teens, maybe early twenties) leading a gaggle of young children: five in total. The oldest being a girl with dark curly hair, maybe six. Then a boy, perhaps five; another girl three or four; and then two children in separate strollers. All the children had olive color skin and dark hair, except the youngest boy in one of the strollers. He was the standard for nordic-looking. I am not sure what the story there was, but the woman also looked like she was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.
On the ride back, things were uneventful until a young African American male, wearing headphones and carrying a mini iPod, came marching down the car. As he came closer to us, I saw from my peripheral vision that he was leering at me. He stopped just past me and he began to hurl insults aimed at me, but disguised as though he were singing rap lyrics that were playing on his iPod.
At the next stop, he stepped on and off the train, continuing to throw insults around. At the very end, he wished all us "white devils" a good day.
I wondered why he acted that way. What was his reason for provocation? Boredom? Frustration? Real anger? I will never know.
Then I thought, am I a white devil?
No, dumbass, I am a Mexican devil. Or perhaps a Mexican-American devil. Or maybe I am...
Next time we go to the Natural History museum, I will have to look for the white devil case and diorama.
Sara and I went to the American Museum of Natural History today. There were some things I liked and others which were disappointing. The hardest part was negotiating the halls that were teeming with screeching children and MadMax-like strollers driven by parents that seemed to be on the brink of a psychotic break.
The subway rides there and back proved to be equally interesting. On the way there we were surrounded by a woman who seemed to be quite young (late teens, maybe early twenties) leading a gaggle of young children: five in total. The oldest being a girl with dark curly hair, maybe six. Then a boy, perhaps five; another girl three or four; and then two children in separate strollers. All the children had olive color skin and dark hair, except the youngest boy in one of the strollers. He was the standard for nordic-looking. I am not sure what the story there was, but the woman also looked like she was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.
On the ride back, things were uneventful until a young African American male, wearing headphones and carrying a mini iPod, came marching down the car. As he came closer to us, I saw from my peripheral vision that he was leering at me. He stopped just past me and he began to hurl insults aimed at me, but disguised as though he were singing rap lyrics that were playing on his iPod.
At the next stop, he stepped on and off the train, continuing to throw insults around. At the very end, he wished all us "white devils" a good day.
I wondered why he acted that way. What was his reason for provocation? Boredom? Frustration? Real anger? I will never know.
Then I thought, am I a white devil?
No, dumbass, I am a Mexican devil. Or perhaps a Mexican-American devil. Or maybe I am...
Next time we go to the Natural History museum, I will have to look for the white devil case and diorama.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
The Secret Lives of Dogs (or what the bus company doesn't want you to know)
You know the picture of a greyhound on the side of a bus? You know, this one:
Most people are led to believe that the greyhound is running. This would make you think that the bus company will get you to your destination quickly.
The truth of the matter is that as an owner of a greyhound I know what the real scoop is. That dog is not running. It is passed out on its side too lazy to move.
Here is proof:
I don't know what this means for the bus company (maybe I will be sued), but the truth had to be told.
[This idea was actually Sara's, but I got the pictures first and she is too "boring" to post them]
You know the picture of a greyhound on the side of a bus? You know, this one:
Most people are led to believe that the greyhound is running. This would make you think that the bus company will get you to your destination quickly.
The truth of the matter is that as an owner of a greyhound I know what the real scoop is. That dog is not running. It is passed out on its side too lazy to move.
Here is proof:
I don't know what this means for the bus company (maybe I will be sued), but the truth had to be told.
[This idea was actually Sara's, but I got the pictures first and she is too "boring" to post them]
Monday, March 19, 2007
Which one is Real?
This picture of Zephyr reminds me of the scene in ET where the critter is hiding in the closet with all the stuffed animals.
Of course Zephyr was not really hiding from anyone. She is just so lazy that when I started piling the toys on her, she refused to move. She is also cuter (although equally strange looking) than the space creature.
Here is a picture from that scene for comparison sake:
That's about all I have to say. Spring Break is over and it is back to the madness of juggling four courses, research, writing, dogs, and life.
At least I got my taxes done, saw my psychiatrist, got thrown off a subway during a snow/sleet/ice storm (because the subway stopped running, not for any improper behavior on my part), and took some long walks with the dogs.
This picture of Zephyr reminds me of the scene in ET where the critter is hiding in the closet with all the stuffed animals.
Of course Zephyr was not really hiding from anyone. She is just so lazy that when I started piling the toys on her, she refused to move. She is also cuter (although equally strange looking) than the space creature.
Here is a picture from that scene for comparison sake:
That's about all I have to say. Spring Break is over and it is back to the madness of juggling four courses, research, writing, dogs, and life.
At least I got my taxes done, saw my psychiatrist, got thrown off a subway during a snow/sleet/ice storm (because the subway stopped running, not for any improper behavior on my part), and took some long walks with the dogs.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Feuding Deities?
Sara and I were riding the subway to midtown Manhattan the other day. To pass the time, rather than anthropologically observing the people riding with us as I usually do, I was looking out the window into the dimly lit maze of tunnels.
I have the secret hope that I will sometime catch a glimpse of the "mole people" that make their home there. So far I haven't.
There is evidence of activity all along the tunnels, though. It is mostly in the form of graffiti. Some of it is related to the transit workers marking switches, outlets, and the sort. Other marks is just the work of random "taggers".
My second hope is that I will catch a glimpse of some wonderful artistic masterpiece that is hidden in the depths of New York's catacombs. That hasn't happened either.
What I did come across that day, however, was a clearly written statement meant to disparage a Norse deity:
Sara and I were riding the subway to midtown Manhattan the other day. To pass the time, rather than anthropologically observing the people riding with us as I usually do, I was looking out the window into the dimly lit maze of tunnels.
I have the secret hope that I will sometime catch a glimpse of the "mole people" that make their home there. So far I haven't.
There is evidence of activity all along the tunnels, though. It is mostly in the form of graffiti. Some of it is related to the transit workers marking switches, outlets, and the sort. Other marks is just the work of random "taggers".
My second hope is that I will catch a glimpse of some wonderful artistic masterpiece that is hidden in the depths of New York's catacombs. That hasn't happened either.
What I did come across that day, however, was a clearly written statement meant to disparage a Norse deity:
THOR SUCKS!
Since then, I have been wondering who the heck wrote it and what it means. My mind has been playing images of a scene out of something like Neil Gaiman's American Gods where a disgruntled Aztec deity (perhaps my friend Xolotl) is marginalized to the subway tunnels of New York City and has it in for Thor.
Who knows? It's as good as an explanation as any....
Since then, I have been wondering who the heck wrote it and what it means. My mind has been playing images of a scene out of something like Neil Gaiman's American Gods where a disgruntled Aztec deity (perhaps my friend Xolotl) is marginalized to the subway tunnels of New York City and has it in for Thor.
Who knows? It's as good as an explanation as any....
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Strange and Awkward
No better way to define the day today.
The morning was warm, almost muggy. Yet tomorrow they say snow: three to six inches.
I had a conference call as part of an anthropologist committee I am on. Having people pop in on an ongoing conversation is a bit strange. With all the issues going on with people in the gov't listening to conversations they aren't supposed to, it has made me a little paranoid I guess.
I went to a lecture by one of the leading anthropologists who studies homeless people. It was a smallish group. Who happens to walk in? My psychiatrist with whom I have an appointment tomorrow morning.
By the way, I will throw a set of questions out there for anyone who wishes to answer it (they came up during the lecture today):
When did you first learn about homelessness? Who explained it to you? And how was it explained to you?
Ever since the last post, the Pink Floyd song has been running through my head. Especially that last line: Come on you miner of truth and delusion, Shine! I guess that is the most concise description I have come across for what it is that anthropologists do.
Time for bed.
No better way to define the day today.
The morning was warm, almost muggy. Yet tomorrow they say snow: three to six inches.
I had a conference call as part of an anthropologist committee I am on. Having people pop in on an ongoing conversation is a bit strange. With all the issues going on with people in the gov't listening to conversations they aren't supposed to, it has made me a little paranoid I guess.
I went to a lecture by one of the leading anthropologists who studies homeless people. It was a smallish group. Who happens to walk in? My psychiatrist with whom I have an appointment tomorrow morning.
By the way, I will throw a set of questions out there for anyone who wishes to answer it (they came up during the lecture today):
When did you first learn about homelessness? Who explained it to you? And how was it explained to you?
Ever since the last post, the Pink Floyd song has been running through my head. Especially that last line: Come on you miner of truth and delusion, Shine! I guess that is the most concise description I have come across for what it is that anthropologists do.
Time for bed.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Shine On
I spent the better part of yesterday and a good chunk of today doing taxes.
Someone does not like me. In 2006 I worked in three different states (MA, RI, and NJ) and I resided in two (MA and NY). Adding it all up, it means that I filed 6 sets of taxes: 1 Federal, 4 State, and 1 City.
And each state has its own convoluted way of figuring out its taxes.
Last year I thought I was so cool because the previous year I worked in WA that doesn't have state income tax. I am paying for it now - in more ways than you can imagine.
Meanwhile, Zephyr is the image of tranquility: she is passed out, stretched out on her pillow, her mouth slightly open, while Pink Floyd's Shine On You Crazy Diamond chills the air. How apropos!
I spent the better part of yesterday and a good chunk of today doing taxes.Someone does not like me. In 2006 I worked in three different states (MA, RI, and NJ) and I resided in two (MA and NY). Adding it all up, it means that I filed 6 sets of taxes: 1 Federal, 4 State, and 1 City.
And each state has its own convoluted way of figuring out its taxes.
Last year I thought I was so cool because the previous year I worked in WA that doesn't have state income tax. I am paying for it now - in more ways than you can imagine.
Meanwhile, Zephyr is the image of tranquility: she is passed out, stretched out on her pillow, her mouth slightly open, while Pink Floyd's Shine On You Crazy Diamond chills the air. How apropos!
Nobody knows where you are, how near or how far.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Pile on many more layers and I'll be joining you there.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
And we'll bask in the shadow of yesterday's triumph, and sail on the steel breeze.
Come on you boy child, you winner and loser,
come on you miner for truth and delusion, and shine!
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Pile on many more layers and I'll be joining you there.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
And we'll bask in the shadow of yesterday's triumph, and sail on the steel breeze.
Come on you boy child, you winner and loser,
come on you miner for truth and delusion, and shine!
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Rats!
My lovely day of being screamed at in Chinese and attacked by giant wild turkeys ended with my new computer's operating system dying.
I called Apple's tech help line and got pressured to purchase the extended help plan before I was given any real help. I would have probably purchased it anyway, but I did not like them preying on the panic one has when there is a computer crash.
As I suspected I had to reinstall the operating system, losing everything that was saved on the computer. While I had not backed anything up officially, since the computer was new there was not much new on it. Most of my files for teaching are also on my computer at work (I email them to myself there). A few pictures are gone and some music, I think. Everything else is still on the old clunker, so I just had to transfer everything over again. Not a good way to spend a weekend, but it could have been worse.
One annoyance is the fact that you cannot upload your music from your iPod back to the computer it is synced with. Your iPod should be a way to backup your music files, but that it ain't.
Sara left to visit her family in New Mexico yesterday. I would have liked to have gone with her, but I just have so much to get done during this coming week of Spring "Break". I drove her to the airport - Newark. It is sad how they have turned airports into mass-hysteria zones. The area outside the "security zone" is a waste land inhabited by transients trying to get to their flights. Even though we arrived at the airport with time, there was absolutely nowhere where we could sit together and wait for her flight. No seats, no restaurants, no cafes, nothing.
Eventually Sara joined all the other departing passengers in the maze leading up to the security check. As I waited to wave one last goodbye, I noticed how the workers herded the people through the chaotic maze as the crowd ebbed and flowed. It really reminded me like cattle being led to the slaughterhouse. You could smell the paranoia. It was probably leaking out of someone's three ounce bottle of liquid in the one quart zip-lock bag.
It turns out that Sara's flight was delayed about an hour and a half. I do think the area in the "secure" zone has more amenities, so hopefully she was able to entertain herself and sit.
The airport experience along with teaching a course on urban anthropology, living in New York city, talking to my mother for the first time in a couple of months (she was traveling around Mexico and out of phone contact), and trying to ground myself over this "break", has made me reflect about the interaction we have with the people around us.
For example, the building in which we live has a lot of nice people, but we really don't know any of them beyond the usually pleasantries we may share if we pass by in the hall or elevator. The people who live below us are a young couple (with Grammy tickets) and a nice dog. We have spoken about getting together for dinner, but it has never come to fruition. Our most meaningful interaction has been picking up each other's mail when we were out of town.
The man who lives above us went to the same university where Sara and I got our Ph.D.s and his sister even has a Ph.D. in anthropology from there (she lives in Brooklyn). How did I learn this? When I went to investigate why water was dripping from our kitchen ceiling and I was happening to be wearing a collegiate t-shirt. We also have spoken of the need to meet up, but have not done so.
And then there are the students with whom I fished through the discarded books in the basement, the friendly and cheerful woman who seems to have a similar schedule as mine since we always seem to be in the elevator together. Our lives pass by yet they never do connect.
Beyond that, one of my colleagues from work lives about a mile away, yet we have only met up a couple of times. I know there are some alumni from my college here, but I have not even come close to looking them up. Even Frankie from this cyber-psuedo-reality lives and works a subway ride away (we were also living in close proximity in Boston) and have discussed meeting up on occasion, but never have done so.
I am not sure where I am going with this. I have no answers. I guess I am wondering if I have become a cog in the social wheel. Have I become trapped in the iron cage of modernity (extra credit to whomever can site the sources of those two references)?
I have become fascinated with rats. I get to see them running in the gutters, scavenging in the subway stations, eating at Taco Bell (the rats are-not me!), and sunning themselves in the park. I even bought this book:
which I hope to delve into over the next week. Perhaps I believe that they might have some answers for me. Either how to survive or how not to become a rodent like them. Dunno...
The gears are cranking in my head. Whether anything good will come from it is anyone's guess.
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage
Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage
Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage
- Smashing Pumpkins,
"Bullet With Butterfly Wings"
"Bullet With Butterfly Wings"
My lovely day of being screamed at in Chinese and attacked by giant wild turkeys ended with my new computer's operating system dying.
I called Apple's tech help line and got pressured to purchase the extended help plan before I was given any real help. I would have probably purchased it anyway, but I did not like them preying on the panic one has when there is a computer crash.
As I suspected I had to reinstall the operating system, losing everything that was saved on the computer. While I had not backed anything up officially, since the computer was new there was not much new on it. Most of my files for teaching are also on my computer at work (I email them to myself there). A few pictures are gone and some music, I think. Everything else is still on the old clunker, so I just had to transfer everything over again. Not a good way to spend a weekend, but it could have been worse.
One annoyance is the fact that you cannot upload your music from your iPod back to the computer it is synced with. Your iPod should be a way to backup your music files, but that it ain't.
Sara left to visit her family in New Mexico yesterday. I would have liked to have gone with her, but I just have so much to get done during this coming week of Spring "Break". I drove her to the airport - Newark. It is sad how they have turned airports into mass-hysteria zones. The area outside the "security zone" is a waste land inhabited by transients trying to get to their flights. Even though we arrived at the airport with time, there was absolutely nowhere where we could sit together and wait for her flight. No seats, no restaurants, no cafes, nothing.
Eventually Sara joined all the other departing passengers in the maze leading up to the security check. As I waited to wave one last goodbye, I noticed how the workers herded the people through the chaotic maze as the crowd ebbed and flowed. It really reminded me like cattle being led to the slaughterhouse. You could smell the paranoia. It was probably leaking out of someone's three ounce bottle of liquid in the one quart zip-lock bag.
It turns out that Sara's flight was delayed about an hour and a half. I do think the area in the "secure" zone has more amenities, so hopefully she was able to entertain herself and sit.Property of Joseph A. Maloney © 2004
The airport experience along with teaching a course on urban anthropology, living in New York city, talking to my mother for the first time in a couple of months (she was traveling around Mexico and out of phone contact), and trying to ground myself over this "break", has made me reflect about the interaction we have with the people around us.
For example, the building in which we live has a lot of nice people, but we really don't know any of them beyond the usually pleasantries we may share if we pass by in the hall or elevator. The people who live below us are a young couple (with Grammy tickets) and a nice dog. We have spoken about getting together for dinner, but it has never come to fruition. Our most meaningful interaction has been picking up each other's mail when we were out of town.
The man who lives above us went to the same university where Sara and I got our Ph.D.s and his sister even has a Ph.D. in anthropology from there (she lives in Brooklyn). How did I learn this? When I went to investigate why water was dripping from our kitchen ceiling and I was happening to be wearing a collegiate t-shirt. We also have spoken of the need to meet up, but have not done so.
And then there are the students with whom I fished through the discarded books in the basement, the friendly and cheerful woman who seems to have a similar schedule as mine since we always seem to be in the elevator together. Our lives pass by yet they never do connect.
Beyond that, one of my colleagues from work lives about a mile away, yet we have only met up a couple of times. I know there are some alumni from my college here, but I have not even come close to looking them up. Even Frankie from this cyber-psuedo-reality lives and works a subway ride away (we were also living in close proximity in Boston) and have discussed meeting up on occasion, but never have done so.
I am not sure where I am going with this. I have no answers. I guess I am wondering if I have become a cog in the social wheel. Have I become trapped in the iron cage of modernity (extra credit to whomever can site the sources of those two references)?
I have become fascinated with rats. I get to see them running in the gutters, scavenging in the subway stations, eating at Taco Bell (the rats are-not me!), and sunning themselves in the park. I even bought this book:
which I hope to delve into over the next week. Perhaps I believe that they might have some answers for me. Either how to survive or how not to become a rodent like them. Dunno...
The gears are cranking in my head. Whether anything good will come from it is anyone's guess.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Highlights from Today [Take 2]
Take 1 was swallowed up when Firefox crashed. It keeps crashing on me - I wonder what is going on. It has been that kind of day.
An old and angry-sounding woman called my cell phone and began yelling at me in Chinese. I tried to tell her that I thought she had reached the wrong number.
I don't think she understood me. She kept calling back and continued the yelling.
Sometimes knowing how to speak Chinese can come in handy.
I wonder if she ever got to yell at the person she was meaning to yell at.
As if that weren't exciting enough, my car was attacked by wild turkeys - while I was driving it.
The turkeys were in the middle of the road, so I slowed down so as not to hit them. As I rolled past them, they charged the car and began pecking the tires. When I stopped, they backed off. There was something about the turning wheels that they did not seem to appreciate.
As I began to move again, they rushed to peck the tires again. I was happy I was in the car. They were rather large birds.
I wonder if someone will make a meal out of them.
Maybe the angry Chinese woman...
Life is strangely interconnected like that.
Take 1 was swallowed up when Firefox crashed. It keeps crashing on me - I wonder what is going on. It has been that kind of day.
An old and angry-sounding woman called my cell phone and began yelling at me in Chinese. I tried to tell her that I thought she had reached the wrong number.
I don't think she understood me. She kept calling back and continued the yelling.
Sometimes knowing how to speak Chinese can come in handy.
I wonder if she ever got to yell at the person she was meaning to yell at.
As if that weren't exciting enough, my car was attacked by wild turkeys - while I was driving it.
The turkeys were in the middle of the road, so I slowed down so as not to hit them. As I rolled past them, they charged the car and began pecking the tires. When I stopped, they backed off. There was something about the turning wheels that they did not seem to appreciate.As I began to move again, they rushed to peck the tires again. I was happy I was in the car. They were rather large birds.
I wonder if someone will make a meal out of them.
Maybe the angry Chinese woman...
Life is strangely interconnected like that.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Stocking up in NJ and taking stock of life
It seems that even though we live in New York, I end up shopping in New Jersey for most of our groceries and other supplies. True, I do work in NJ and I tend to stop to pick up things on my way to or from work. For groceries, though, it is just easier to shop just across the river than trekking down into the city. There is a Whole Foods and funky Japanese grocery just across the bridge. I also saw that soon there will be a Trader Joe's opening up just down the road (I hope they will sell wine there - the one halfway between here and work doesn't).
There is one grocery I do shop at in Manhattan - a funky place wedged under the West Side highway (an elevated freeway).
One of the benefits of shopping at the Whole Foods in NJ is that it allows me to stop and take in that I am actually living in New York City. The parking lot faces the river and it has amazing views of Manhattan. 
Living in our bubble in northern Manhattan and commuting to work in NJ, it is easy to forget that we are living in this city. I do have to drive over the George Washington bridge to get to work, but usually I am focusing on avoiding trucks and other drivers that I cannot take in the view.
At the Whole Foods parking lot, I can jump over the little dirt divider and take short stroll on the path along the water. Especially if the dogs come along for the ride like they did today. Although usually they are not all that interested in the view: they much rather figure out what it was that washed up along the shore.
Wow, I am living in this crazy city.
It seems that even though we live in New York, I end up shopping in New Jersey for most of our groceries and other supplies. True, I do work in NJ and I tend to stop to pick up things on my way to or from work. For groceries, though, it is just easier to shop just across the river than trekking down into the city. There is a Whole Foods and funky Japanese grocery just across the bridge. I also saw that soon there will be a Trader Joe's opening up just down the road (I hope they will sell wine there - the one halfway between here and work doesn't).
There is one grocery I do shop at in Manhattan - a funky place wedged under the West Side highway (an elevated freeway).
One of the benefits of shopping at the Whole Foods in NJ is that it allows me to stop and take in that I am actually living in New York City. The parking lot faces the river and it has amazing views of Manhattan. 
Living in our bubble in northern Manhattan and commuting to work in NJ, it is easy to forget that we are living in this city. I do have to drive over the George Washington bridge to get to work, but usually I am focusing on avoiding trucks and other drivers that I cannot take in the view.At the Whole Foods parking lot, I can jump over the little dirt divider and take short stroll on the path along the water. Especially if the dogs come along for the ride like they did today. Although usually they are not all that interested in the view: they much rather figure out what it was that washed up along the shore.
Wow, I am living in this crazy city.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
East/Spanish Harlem
I am starting a new research project in East/Spanish Harlem (the name is a contentious issue - although soon it might be called Mexican Harlem or Harlemtitlán, but more on that at some other time).
I went down to walk through the neighborhood last Sunday and do some basic observations. I came across this interesting mural that is so rich in symbolism. I am hoping to find who painted it and try to figure out their intentions. That is one advantage of working in Mexican (and Latino) communities they tend to put their thoughts up on the wall in some form of creative expression - whether officially condoned or not.
I just wish I had more time to work on the project, but time is so stretched right now. I am really looking forward to Spring Break which is coming in two weeks.
I am starting a new research project in East/Spanish Harlem (the name is a contentious issue - although soon it might be called Mexican Harlem or Harlemtitlán, but more on that at some other time).
I went down to walk through the neighborhood last Sunday and do some basic observations. I came across this interesting mural that is so rich in symbolism. I am hoping to find who painted it and try to figure out their intentions. That is one advantage of working in Mexican (and Latino) communities they tend to put their thoughts up on the wall in some form of creative expression - whether officially condoned or not.I just wish I had more time to work on the project, but time is so stretched right now. I am really looking forward to Spring Break which is coming in two weeks.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
When you need to go...
How would you feel if they put up one of these down the street from your home?
Way back when...while I was studying in Bologna, Italy. There was something similar on my path between the university and my apartment. There was a little more privacy, but not much.
At first it was a bit jarring, but then I came to understand the benefits after I witnessed the amount of public urinating that took place in other parts of the city. I do admit I made use of it one night following an evening of much wine sampling at a cool jazz bar. It was a long walk home and my bladder was just not big enough.
The pit-stop spot also became iconic of how male-centric Italian society is. Unless a woman has some form of uncanny ability with certain bodily functions, the relief was only available to men. Although someone (female) I knew back then is purported to have been able to urinate off a bridge - there were reliable witnesses.
Anyway, this post just shows that my mind is incapable of writing of any significance. Not that I would otherwise have anything significant to say, but I think under different circumstances I could probably fake it better.
How would you feel if they put up one of these down the street from your home?
Way back when...while I was studying in Bologna, Italy. There was something similar on my path between the university and my apartment. There was a little more privacy, but not much.
At first it was a bit jarring, but then I came to understand the benefits after I witnessed the amount of public urinating that took place in other parts of the city. I do admit I made use of it one night following an evening of much wine sampling at a cool jazz bar. It was a long walk home and my bladder was just not big enough.
The pit-stop spot also became iconic of how male-centric Italian society is. Unless a woman has some form of uncanny ability with certain bodily functions, the relief was only available to men. Although someone (female) I knew back then is purported to have been able to urinate off a bridge - there were reliable witnesses.
Anyway, this post just shows that my mind is incapable of writing of any significance. Not that I would otherwise have anything significant to say, but I think under different circumstances I could probably fake it better.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Sunday, February 18, 2007
You know when...
...things are a bit overwhelming and you are a tad burnt out and you still have so much to do? Then you go and waste time by doing nonsense?
Yes, that is what I have been up to.
Taking pictures out of my office window.
I just switched my desk so now I look out on to the park, rather than having it to my left side.
I wonder how much daydreaming a distraction will take place.
That was a rhetorical question.
It will nice witnessing the changes once spring decides to get here. Sara has always had an idea of documenting the eruption of leaves during the one week in spring by taking a picture of a the same tree every day during the week the leaves come out.
Maybe I will do that.
I am always stealing her ideas. That's because she has good ones.
By the way, thanks to all for the kind words of support and encouragement. I truly appreciate them.
...things are a bit overwhelming and you are a tad burnt out and you still have so much to do? Then you go and waste time by doing nonsense?
Yes, that is what I have been up to.
Taking pictures out of my office window.
I just switched my desk so now I look out on to the park, rather than having it to my left side.
I wonder how much daydreaming a distraction will take place.
That was a rhetorical question.
It will nice witnessing the changes once spring decides to get here. Sara has always had an idea of documenting the eruption of leaves during the one week in spring by taking a picture of a the same tree every day during the week the leaves come out.
Maybe I will do that.
I am always stealing her ideas. That's because she has good ones.
By the way, thanks to all for the kind words of support and encouragement. I truly appreciate them.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Sorry but...
I am taking advantage of a rare snow day when the college was closed to stop by here.
I really needed this day off, but it comes on the day I have two classes that only meet once a week. That is a lot of material to try to make up.
My absence can be explained by the following factors:
Maybe I will have carve out a little more time (and energy) to spend time interacting with these friends. It probably will be hard to do. I am thinking of you all, I really am.
I am taking advantage of a rare snow day when the college was closed to stop by here.
I really needed this day off, but it comes on the day I have two classes that only meet once a week. That is a lot of material to try to make up.
My absence can be explained by the following factors:
- I am teaching four courses this semester. I have come to learn that my limit is probably three.
- I had to give a lecture to the college, which was a bit time consuming.
- I got news that my father, who as most of you know lives in Mexico, had a brain aneurysm. He got to the doctor quickly, had surgery, and seems to have pulled through.
- The news unleashed a flood of emotions stemming from the strange relationship (or one might say lack of relationship) with my father. This is much too complex to go into in a bullet point.
- Dogs.
- Developing my urban anthropology course. It has been a trial and error process. For the most part I think it has gone well, but it is time consuming. Last Sunday I took about half the students into New York City.
- Learning how to use a Mac and some of the pitfalls of making the switch from a PC. Overall I am still quite pleased with my choice.
- Grading.
- Participating in college meetings, committee work, etc. Even though I am not on tenure track now, it is looking likely that I will be and I need to be active on this front.
- Sleep.
- Trying to design a small research project here in New York City.
Maybe I will have carve out a little more time (and energy) to spend time interacting with these friends. It probably will be hard to do. I am thinking of you all, I really am.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Just a nice picture to start off.Cooking - I enjoy it. Some friends and family members have told me that I should open a bistro or restaurant. I would never want to do that. It would move cooking from something fun to a chore.
Plus people are petty. I just don't want to deal with that, at least not when I am cooking.
Today's dinner was a combination of leftovers. A couple of days back I made some African Groundnut (peanut) Stew, which you usually eat with rice (or plantains or some other starch), but we ate all the rice. However, we did have left over rice from yesterday. It was some Chinese Forbidden Rice (which is a reddish black color) that we had with some Salmon and Fennel. When Sara saw me putting the two together, she said, "Ah Chinese forbidden rice with African stew...fusion!"
That's when it hit me, if I were ever to open an eatery, I would call it Confusion Fusion.
I thought I was clever, but then I googled it and found that I wasn't all that creative at all. Oh well.
The Xoloitzquintle Free University
Lesson 429 - Religions in Chiapas
My mother and step-father are currently undertaking a long road trip in Mexico. They are driving with their fifth-wheel trailer from San Diego to Yucatan. They have already driven down the Pacific coast and are currently in Chiapas.I get sporadic and brief email updates from them. Recently, their observations have been quite anthropological. I almost feel like an arm-chair anthropologist (definition pilfered from Wiki):
Modern socio-cultural anthropology has its origins in 19th century "ethnology", which involves the organized comparison of human societies. Scholars like E.B. Tylor and J.G. Frazer in England worked mostly with materials collected by others – usually missionaries, explorers, or colonial officials – this earned them their current sobriquet of "arm-chair anthropologists".There is quite a mess brewing up there when it comes to religion. I already knew about Catholicism replacing/merging with indigenous beliefs and the more recent arrival of Protestant missionaries (mostly Pentecostals, Mormons, and Jehovah's Witnesses). But according to my mother, there is also an indigenous belief revival. They went to a Catholic church where they were told not to take any pictures or their cameras would be smashed. It turns out the whole service was a traditional belief ceremony.
In her most recent report my mother mentioned the conflict emerging with the growing Muslim population there. I had only heard brief mention of this somewhere, but I guess it is a growing issue.
After looking into it a little more, I also found out that the anti-immigrant movement in the US is already using the phenomenon in its propaganda. Alarmism at its best. When do we send troops to Chiapas? It is better to fight them over there than over here...but wait, they are already over here. They are among us.
I think I will just give up.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Humps are a Bustin'
This semester is really sapping all the energy I have. I am teaching four courses this time around. My first job in Washington state was one course per semester. As was my first semester teaching in Boston. Then I moved up to two. Last semester I taught three.
Four is just too many. I barely have time to think of the next one that is coming up, much less think about becoming involved with the college, my own research, writing, publishing, etc. There was talk that I might only have to teach three each semester next year, but that fell through. It will four and three.
What makes it worse is that should this job become tenure-track (and should I get it), my tenure clock has already started. Now it is not too hard to get tenure at school where I am at, but it is still hard to get anything done that will help make that transition easier. Should I want to try to move somewhere else, it is hard to keep productive research agenda that would make me a possible candidate somewhere else. And last, but not least, I am just not as good as a teacher when I am spread so thin. I start passing on activities, projects, ideas that I would like to do just because I don't have the time and/or energy to plan and prepare them.
Oh well, nothing is going to change. I am just tired and cranky and needed to vent.
This semester is really sapping all the energy I have. I am teaching four courses this time around. My first job in Washington state was one course per semester. As was my first semester teaching in Boston. Then I moved up to two. Last semester I taught three.
Four is just too many. I barely have time to think of the next one that is coming up, much less think about becoming involved with the college, my own research, writing, publishing, etc. There was talk that I might only have to teach three each semester next year, but that fell through. It will four and three.
What makes it worse is that should this job become tenure-track (and should I get it), my tenure clock has already started. Now it is not too hard to get tenure at school where I am at, but it is still hard to get anything done that will help make that transition easier. Should I want to try to move somewhere else, it is hard to keep productive research agenda that would make me a possible candidate somewhere else. And last, but not least, I am just not as good as a teacher when I am spread so thin. I start passing on activities, projects, ideas that I would like to do just because I don't have the time and/or energy to plan and prepare them.
Oh well, nothing is going to change. I am just tired and cranky and needed to vent.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Would you expect anything else from me?
Once again, this mindless exercise comes to you via Sherri who has saved me from having to power on the few brain cells left functioning in my head after this week.
You scored as Ecclectic Pagan. A veritable blend of all the pantheons and perhaps a dash of a few other religions as well, you're the versitile Ecclectic Pagan. You have no problem wearing an ankh while setting an offering to Herne on your alter just below your image of Hera. You don't believe in coloring within the lines, and are a bright free-thinker. While you respect the views of your fellow pagans, as far as you're concerned, religion is the sky, and there's no one about to clip your wings with lines and limitations.
What kind of Pagan are you? created with QuizFarm.com |
Once again, this mindless exercise comes to you via Sherri who has saved me from having to power on the few brain cells left functioning in my head after this week.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
An Opportunity Lost
Yes, we could have cozied up with the stars at the Grammy Awards, but we won't. We had the chance, but it disappeared this evening.
Our neighbors who live in the apartment below us are a young couple. When we went to San Jose in November, we asked them if they would pick up our mail. Our box is small and even a couple of days worth of mail would have had it bursting. They were kind enough to do that for us.
Last week they asked us to return the favor. It really isn't that much of a chore since their box is about a foot away from ours. In the process of picking up their mail, one envelope caught my eye. Not that I snoop through other people's mail, rather this one had a huge picture of an old style grammaphone and "Invitation Included" in big letters. A few days later there was a large envelope with the same picture and Grammy Awards written next to it.
The guy whose mail we are picking up is a musician who plays in the band for a big name musical on Broadway and has been invited to the Grammys. We could have misplaced that envelope and shown up to the awards with a real invitation. But we didn't misplace the envelope, we gave it to them today when they came to get their mail.
That's ok. I really didn't have anything to wear. Plus the Grammys are kind of boring. Now if there is an envelope with Oscar on the cover...
Yes, we could have cozied up with the stars at the Grammy Awards, but we won't. We had the chance, but it disappeared this evening.
Our neighbors who live in the apartment below us are a young couple. When we went to San Jose in November, we asked them if they would pick up our mail. Our box is small and even a couple of days worth of mail would have had it bursting. They were kind enough to do that for us.
Last week they asked us to return the favor. It really isn't that much of a chore since their box is about a foot away from ours. In the process of picking up their mail, one envelope caught my eye. Not that I snoop through other people's mail, rather this one had a huge picture of an old style grammaphone and "Invitation Included" in big letters. A few days later there was a large envelope with the same picture and Grammy Awards written next to it.
The guy whose mail we are picking up is a musician who plays in the band for a big name musical on Broadway and has been invited to the Grammys. We could have misplaced that envelope and shown up to the awards with a real invitation. But we didn't misplace the envelope, we gave it to them today when they came to get their mail.
That's ok. I really didn't have anything to wear. Plus the Grammys are kind of boring. Now if there is an envelope with Oscar on the cover...
Sunday, January 21, 2007
The State of my Mind: Proof
I have mentioned my feeble-mindedness previously. You may have thought that is was just an excuse I was making for my perverse laziness. Today I offer you proof that I am indeed lacking in mental capacities - especially in the morning.
During our recent (and on-going) eating healthy episode, we have been eating a lot of grains, legumes, and seeds. I bought most of them in bulk at our local chain health food store. Among our lovely offerings, we have partaken of amaranth - which in it original form looks like this:
So this morning I proceeded to make some with some soy milk, apples, cinnamon, and walnuts. You really need to let it cook for about half an hour, but I was hungry so I served myself after about twenty minutes. As I ate my bowl while reading the paper, I noticed that it was rather crunchy...but I figured it was because I had not waited for it to cook fully.
Sometime later when Sara got up, I served her a bowl. She took a bite, looked at me with a perplexed look and asked, "Is this a bowl full of sesame seeds?"
Indeed it was.
Among the other grains, legumes, and seeds I purchased, there was sesame seeds. So I mistook the sesame seeds for the amaranth, cooked a pot of them, nicely seasoned mind you, and proceeded to eat a bowlful of them.
Sesame seeds don't digest very well. Needless to say, I am not looking forward to tomorrow morning.
But I do know now where the amaranth is should I care to have it for breakfast tomorrow.
I have mentioned my feeble-mindedness previously. You may have thought that is was just an excuse I was making for my perverse laziness. Today I offer you proof that I am indeed lacking in mental capacities - especially in the morning.
During our recent (and on-going) eating healthy episode, we have been eating a lot of grains, legumes, and seeds. I bought most of them in bulk at our local chain health food store. Among our lovely offerings, we have partaken of amaranth - which in it original form looks like this:
So this morning I proceeded to make some with some soy milk, apples, cinnamon, and walnuts. You really need to let it cook for about half an hour, but I was hungry so I served myself after about twenty minutes. As I ate my bowl while reading the paper, I noticed that it was rather crunchy...but I figured it was because I had not waited for it to cook fully.
Sometime later when Sara got up, I served her a bowl. She took a bite, looked at me with a perplexed look and asked, "Is this a bowl full of sesame seeds?"
Indeed it was.
Among the other grains, legumes, and seeds I purchased, there was sesame seeds. So I mistook the sesame seeds for the amaranth, cooked a pot of them, nicely seasoned mind you, and proceeded to eat a bowlful of them.
Sesame seeds don't digest very well. Needless to say, I am not looking forward to tomorrow morning.
But I do know now where the amaranth is should I care to have it for breakfast tomorrow.
Friday, January 19, 2007
The Xoloitzquintle Free University
On Line Lesson # 157 - Capitalism around the World
Ideal Capitalism
You have two cows.
You sell one cow and buy a bull.
They multiply themselves, the economy grows.
You sell the herd and retire. You are rich!
American Capitalism
You have two cows.
You sell one and force the other one to produce the milk of four cows.
You are surprised when it falls dead.
Japanese Capitalism
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they have a tenth of their regular size
and produce 20 times more milk.
Afterwards you create cute cartoons called Vaquimon and sell them to the whole world.
British Capitalism
You have two cows.
Both of them are mad.
Dutch Capitalism
You have two cows.
They live together, in a union of fact, they don't like bulls and it's okay.
German Capitalism
You have two cows.
They produce milk regularly, according to standard quantities
and pre-established schedule, in a precise and lucrative way.
But what you really wanted was to raise pigs.
Russian capitalism
You have two cows.
You count them and you see 5.
You count them again and see 42.
You count them once more and find 12 cows.
You stop counting and open another bottle of vodka.
There will be a quiz on Monday. Have a great weekend...
On Line Lesson # 157 - Capitalism around the World
Ideal CapitalismYou have two cows.
You sell one cow and buy a bull.
They multiply themselves, the economy grows.
You sell the herd and retire. You are rich!
American Capitalism
You have two cows.
You sell one and force the other one to produce the milk of four cows.
You are surprised when it falls dead.
Japanese Capitalism
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they have a tenth of their regular size
and produce 20 times more milk.
Afterwards you create cute cartoons called Vaquimon and sell them to the whole world.
British Capitalism
You have two cows.
Both of them are mad.
Dutch Capitalism
You have two cows.
They live together, in a union of fact, they don't like bulls and it's okay.
German Capitalism
You have two cows.
They produce milk regularly, according to standard quantities
and pre-established schedule, in a precise and lucrative way.
But what you really wanted was to raise pigs.
Russian capitalism
You have two cows.
You count them and you see 5.
You count them again and see 42.
You count them once more and find 12 cows.
You stop counting and open another bottle of vodka.
Swiss Capitalism
You have 500 cows, but own none.
You charge to store other people's cows.
Spanish Capitalism
You are very proud of owning two cows.
Italian Capitalism
You have two cows.
One dies and everyone stands around arguing about why it died and who is to blame.
Meanwhile the other cow gets stolen and resold on the black market.
Brazilian Capitalism
You have two cows.
And you complain because the herd doesn't grow.
Indian Capitalism
You have two cows.
And no one get's near them.
Portuguese Capitalism
You have two cows.
One of them is stolen.
The other one was bought through the Social European Fund.
The government creates the "TICV" - "Tax of Increased Cow Value".
An inspector comes and tickets you, because although you paid correctly the TICV, the value was for the presumed number of cows and not of the real amount of cows. The Ministry of Finances, also through presumed data based on your consumption of milk, cheese, leather shoes and buttons, understands you should have 200 cows.
You give the remaining cow to the finance inspector so he overlooks the whole thing and hope to get rid of the situation...
There will be a quiz on Monday. Have a great weekend...
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Memes are for the Feeble-Minded...
...and for those who lack the creativity to weave words into innovative and coherent ideas. And that would be me. Moreover, Sherri, in her most perverse state, has tagged me with this one. Because it is rather untaxing, I shall comply.
I have been commanded by the powers that be through the words of their prophet (Sherri) to:
1. Reckoning with Homelessness - Kim Hopper.
The last commandment was to tag three people. But because I am a sinner and a rebel (and just part of the rabble-rousing riff-raff), I am only tagging one person: Sara. I hear everyone is doing it, especially the cool people. I also know she won't do it, thus bringing this misguided crusade to the much needed end - at least down this path.
Update: Rats! As I was doing this, Sara has gone and done this silly meme. I know she did it just to prove me wrong (again!). In any case, I refuse to tag anyone else. May I be cursed for the next five minutes or so ...
...and for those who lack the creativity to weave words into innovative and coherent ideas. And that would be me. Moreover, Sherri, in her most perverse state, has tagged me with this one. Because it is rather untaxing, I shall comply.
I have been commanded by the powers that be through the words of their prophet (Sherri) to:
Grab the book nearest your computer. List the Title and Author. Turn to page 123. Read past the first 5 sentences, then read the next three. Type out those three sentences in your blog, then tag three bloggers.First of all there are books littering my home office and there are multiple volumes that could tie for the honor of being closest to my computer. I shall pick two.
1. Reckoning with Homelessness - Kim Hopper.
All but the last two of those observed or interviewed were by themselves; the exception was a quarrelsome couple who had been living at the terminal for some time. Last, the terminal's homeless poor appear to be much older than the shelter's population. Health problems: Edema and related circulatory problems (e.g. cellulitis) were fairly common, as is often the case with homeless people who go for long periods without elevating their feet.2. El Otro Lado: Notes from the New L.A., Mexico City, and Beyon - Ruben Martinez
Skept will sometimes ensconce himself in the studio, drawing for days on end. Or he'll go out piecing in the yards. Then there'll be the urge to do a daring, illegal piece on the streets.So there you have it. I am not sure what the point of any of this is. But that is nothing new and it illustrates how I am trying to find a point to everything.
The last commandment was to tag three people. But because I am a sinner and a rebel (and just part of the rabble-rousing riff-raff), I am only tagging one person: Sara. I hear everyone is doing it, especially the cool people. I also know she won't do it, thus bringing this misguided crusade to the much needed end - at least down this path.
Update: Rats! As I was doing this, Sara has gone and done this silly meme. I know she did it just to prove me wrong (again!). In any case, I refuse to tag anyone else. May I be cursed for the next five minutes or so ...
Monday, January 15, 2007
Took this extremely hard quiz that Sherri mentioned...
...the results were uncanny in how true they were...
...so I entered Sara's facts and they were so spot on I had to post my results here (Sara can post hers if she wants)...
I just love it that my power color is lilac! Now I know what color my spandex superhero outfit should be.
Blah...I don't want to go to work tomorrow!!!!
...the results were uncanny in how true they were...
...so I entered Sara's facts and they were so spot on I had to post my results here (Sara can post hers if she wants)...
| Your Birthdate: September 24 |
 You understand people well and are a natural born therapist. A peacemaker, people always seem to get along when you are around. You tend to be a father or mother figure to friends, even to those older than you. You enjoy your role, and you find that you are close to many people. Your strength: Your devotion Your weakness: Reliance on others for happiness Your power color: Lilac Your power symbol: Heart Your power month: June |
I just love it that my power color is lilac! Now I know what color my spandex superhero outfit should be.
Blah...I don't want to go to work tomorrow!!!!
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Late Sunday Evening...
Sara has updated her blog! It is a intriguing post: I think it shows that we have been going to too many Himalayan cultural events, restaurants, etc.
Random question:
Does a hearse get to use the carpool lane?
Sara and I are on a eating regimen that is supposed to help your body detoxify and recalibrate your metabolism. It is from the book Ultrametabolism. The food is ok for most part, but I am hungry most of the time and I really, really miss bread. Sara also pointed out today that while I thought the regimen was for one week, the books clearly states that it should be done for three! I am not sure what is going to happen with that...
So far I love my new computer.
School starts this week and three of my four syllabi are finished. I was supposed to have the last one done today.
Zeus got a bath instead. As did the bathroom. And Sara.
I really like the podcasts from Mangatune.
If you are in the need to procrastinate, go check out the project being done at the Museum of Sex. It is quite fascinating and anthropological.
That rumbling you hear...yeah, that one...no, it is not thunder...its is my tummy.
Sara has updated her blog! It is a intriguing post: I think it shows that we have been going to too many Himalayan cultural events, restaurants, etc.
Random question:
Does a hearse get to use the carpool lane?
Sara and I are on a eating regimen that is supposed to help your body detoxify and recalibrate your metabolism. It is from the book Ultrametabolism. The food is ok for most part, but I am hungry most of the time and I really, really miss bread. Sara also pointed out today that while I thought the regimen was for one week, the books clearly states that it should be done for three! I am not sure what is going to happen with that...
So far I love my new computer.
School starts this week and three of my four syllabi are finished. I was supposed to have the last one done today.
Zeus got a bath instead. As did the bathroom. And Sara.
I really like the podcasts from Mangatune.
If you are in the need to procrastinate, go check out the project being done at the Museum of Sex. It is quite fascinating and anthropological.
That rumbling you hear...yeah, that one...no, it is not thunder...its is my tummy.
Friday, January 12, 2007
A New Beginning ... (or back to where it all started)
I got my first computer at the end of my first year in college. It was a Mac SE that looked like this:
When I started grad school (the first time), I switched to a PC laptop (a 386, if I remember correctly). The old Mac got left at my mom's house where it was used by my sister and eventually made its way to the basement. I liked my Mac, but I was going to Italy and I needed something portable. Laptops were pretty new then - strange thought. It was a funny little thing with its black (more of a grayish green, really) tiny little screen and its fat keyboard/base.
I used the laptop a little my second time around in graduate school, but by then it was already getting a little old and clunky. It got stolen when someone broke into Sara and my first apartment (actually second...but that is a long story). By then, you had to pop the battery out and put it back in everytime you wanted to start it up, whether it was plugged in or not. The joke was on the stupid people that broke in.
I bought a new laptop - a Quantex (PC) a few months later right before Sara (and Zeus) and I went to Italy for the first part of our dissertation fieldwork. That computer lasted quite a while, but it was getting a little clunky and I needed something more reliable when I started to work on my dissertation. I purchased a HP Desktop. The Quantex passed on to Sara who wanted to play with it...something to do with Linux. She didn't really play that much and then it was given a better home by Volume 22's Scott.
The HP had some bugs from the beginning, but who of us is without fault. The computer served me well; somehow I managed to crank out a dissertation on it. It also moved around quite a bit: Providence, Walla Walla, Boston, and now New York. During these journeys, as it exhibited its flaws and its age, I began to think of moving on but I could never justify it. A while back it began to crash more than usual. Then the CD-ROM died, and then the DVD-CD writer. The strange noises got louder and more disconcerting. I knew the time to move on had come. Being the winter break, I had some time to research computers and debate my next move.
And I decided to go back to where it all began...many generations later.
So here it is, my new baby:
May its keys bring me much productivity and success. And may its innards stay healthy and cause few problems for many years.
And this is the first post from it - hopefully there will be many more.
I got my first computer at the end of my first year in college. It was a Mac SE that looked like this:
When I started grad school (the first time), I switched to a PC laptop (a 386, if I remember correctly). The old Mac got left at my mom's house where it was used by my sister and eventually made its way to the basement. I liked my Mac, but I was going to Italy and I needed something portable. Laptops were pretty new then - strange thought. It was a funny little thing with its black (more of a grayish green, really) tiny little screen and its fat keyboard/base.
I used the laptop a little my second time around in graduate school, but by then it was already getting a little old and clunky. It got stolen when someone broke into Sara and my first apartment (actually second...but that is a long story). By then, you had to pop the battery out and put it back in everytime you wanted to start it up, whether it was plugged in or not. The joke was on the stupid people that broke in.
I bought a new laptop - a Quantex (PC) a few months later right before Sara (and Zeus) and I went to Italy for the first part of our dissertation fieldwork. That computer lasted quite a while, but it was getting a little clunky and I needed something more reliable when I started to work on my dissertation. I purchased a HP Desktop. The Quantex passed on to Sara who wanted to play with it...something to do with Linux. She didn't really play that much and then it was given a better home by Volume 22's Scott.
The HP had some bugs from the beginning, but who of us is without fault. The computer served me well; somehow I managed to crank out a dissertation on it. It also moved around quite a bit: Providence, Walla Walla, Boston, and now New York. During these journeys, as it exhibited its flaws and its age, I began to think of moving on but I could never justify it. A while back it began to crash more than usual. Then the CD-ROM died, and then the DVD-CD writer. The strange noises got louder and more disconcerting. I knew the time to move on had come. Being the winter break, I had some time to research computers and debate my next move.
And I decided to go back to where it all began...many generations later.
So here it is, my new baby:
May its keys bring me much productivity and success. And may its innards stay healthy and cause few problems for many years.
And this is the first post from it - hopefully there will be many more.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Sunday, January 07, 2007
House Cleaning
I got rid of the Bravenet crap in my sidebar. If you still get popups, let me know. I will continue to remove junk until the problem is solved.
In other news, I have not had the wherewithal to write much here. Just needed some time off.
I have been exploring NY with Sara and recovering from the semester and that hellish move last August. I have one more week "off" before the next semester starts. I wish I had three. There is still so much that needs to get done.
I got rid of the Bravenet crap in my sidebar. If you still get popups, let me know. I will continue to remove junk until the problem is solved.
In other news, I have not had the wherewithal to write much here. Just needed some time off.
I have been exploring NY with Sara and recovering from the semester and that hellish move last August. I have one more week "off" before the next semester starts. I wish I had three. There is still so much that needs to get done.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
A Life in Trash bags
A couple of days ago I noticed workmen taking out bags of trash from one of the apartments that is off the lobby of our building. I thought they might be remodeling it or something.
As I came and went (which if often because the dogs are always pining for a bathroom break), I noticed that the contents of the bags seemed to be mostly books.
A few days later, as I passed through the basement of the building (where the trash receptacles and laundry are) I was stunned to find an enormous pile of clear trash bags full of books. Off to one side there were cartons upon cartons of vinyl records.
I peered through the translucent bags to see what kinds of books there were. I noticed books on language, Judaism, old volumes of encyclopedias, and biographies (mostly of Nazi leaders). I picked up a brand new elementary Japanese language book that was on the surface of the pile. Deeper in the pile I saw a stack of photographs. There was also a box with junk that included an really old Atari computer (it probably had something like 4K memory).
Here before me was someone's life...all in trash bags. Had the person run off? Died? Whatever happened, this was what was left behind.
Being in the middle of my own crazy and hectic week, I held the sense of sadness and melancholy for a few seconds and then let it drift away.
Tonight, when I was taking out the trash, I came across the pile still living in the basement. Rummaging through it were three twenty-somethings. I asked them if they had found something good. It seems like there were quite a few science-fiction classics. I told them that I had some extra boxes if they needed them. They took me up on the offer. When I returned a fourth individual was poking through the vinyl albums amazed at what was there.
Intrigued, I joined the scavenge telling myself that I would get one good book. I came back up with about eight. I picked up some old H.P. Lovecraft paperbacks. Not high quality, but I knew that Sara like HPL. We already had those stories in an anthology, though. I did get a nice hardback H.G. Wells from 1923 or so and a strange book on Magic and Witchcraft iconography.
The other people were certainly taking away more, including many first edition Phillip Dick, Isaac Asimov, and other sci-fi writers.
I asked my fellow rummagers if they knew what had happened. The story they had heard was that the person was carted off to a nursing home and no one wanted to deal with his things. So there they were, hanging out in the basement until tomorrow when they will be taken off to some landfill. From this person's archaeological record, he was some kind of computer scientist interested in space, science-fiction, magic, and languages. He was probably Jewish - maybe a Holocaust survivor or related to one. He enjoyed music and strategy games.
The whole experience has made me think of all the people we pass everyday. As an anthropologist I know each has a story, but this is the first time I have tried to get to know a stranger through their own collection of material culture. Put together a snapshot of a life through the windows of transparent trash bags.
I wonder what story my possessions will say of me someday...
A couple of days ago I noticed workmen taking out bags of trash from one of the apartments that is off the lobby of our building. I thought they might be remodeling it or something.As I came and went (which if often because the dogs are always pining for a bathroom break), I noticed that the contents of the bags seemed to be mostly books.
A few days later, as I passed through the basement of the building (where the trash receptacles and laundry are) I was stunned to find an enormous pile of clear trash bags full of books. Off to one side there were cartons upon cartons of vinyl records.
I peered through the translucent bags to see what kinds of books there were. I noticed books on language, Judaism, old volumes of encyclopedias, and biographies (mostly of Nazi leaders). I picked up a brand new elementary Japanese language book that was on the surface of the pile. Deeper in the pile I saw a stack of photographs. There was also a box with junk that included an really old Atari computer (it probably had something like 4K memory).
Here before me was someone's life...all in trash bags. Had the person run off? Died? Whatever happened, this was what was left behind.
Being in the middle of my own crazy and hectic week, I held the sense of sadness and melancholy for a few seconds and then let it drift away.
Tonight, when I was taking out the trash, I came across the pile still living in the basement. Rummaging through it were three twenty-somethings. I asked them if they had found something good. It seems like there were quite a few science-fiction classics. I told them that I had some extra boxes if they needed them. They took me up on the offer. When I returned a fourth individual was poking through the vinyl albums amazed at what was there.
Intrigued, I joined the scavenge telling myself that I would get one good book. I came back up with about eight. I picked up some old H.P. Lovecraft paperbacks. Not high quality, but I knew that Sara like HPL. We already had those stories in an anthology, though. I did get a nice hardback H.G. Wells from 1923 or so and a strange book on Magic and Witchcraft iconography.
The other people were certainly taking away more, including many first edition Phillip Dick, Isaac Asimov, and other sci-fi writers.
I asked my fellow rummagers if they knew what had happened. The story they had heard was that the person was carted off to a nursing home and no one wanted to deal with his things. So there they were, hanging out in the basement until tomorrow when they will be taken off to some landfill. From this person's archaeological record, he was some kind of computer scientist interested in space, science-fiction, magic, and languages. He was probably Jewish - maybe a Holocaust survivor or related to one. He enjoyed music and strategy games.
The whole experience has made me think of all the people we pass everyday. As an anthropologist I know each has a story, but this is the first time I have tried to get to know a stranger through their own collection of material culture. Put together a snapshot of a life through the windows of transparent trash bags.
I wonder what story my possessions will say of me someday...
Monday, December 18, 2006
Interlude
I am tired. It has been a long semester after a particularly difficult move after a particularly stressful spring.
Finals are this week. I have lots of grading to look forward to, but I can also count on a little break. A brief moment to catch my breath and find my equilibrium.
A nice surprise made its way to Sara and me recently: a small token of friendship from Sherri that was very much appreciated. It is nice to know that kindness is still floating out there.
I am tired. It has been a long semester after a particularly difficult move after a particularly stressful spring.
Finals are this week. I have lots of grading to look forward to, but I can also count on a little break. A brief moment to catch my breath and find my equilibrium.
A nice surprise made its way to Sara and me recently: a small token of friendship from Sherri that was very much appreciated. It is nice to know that kindness is still floating out there.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Crisis of a Dying Computer
My DVD Player/CD-Writer on my computer died yesterday. I came into my office and it was making some strange noise and the light was flashing in an unsettling pattern.
After shutting down the computer and rebooting, the light changed to red and the computer no longer believes that the drive exists.
I also had a CD-ROM drive that died on me a couple of months ago. The computer still talks to it, but the drive refuses to open up to anyone else.
The consequences of these events are dire. I can no longer put music on my computer from CDs.
The recent failure is just a sign of the fragile health of my computer. I have had this computer for four years now and it is starting to have random fits (old things and people tend to do that). I got it to write my dissertation on (the laptop I had - which is not in the loving care of Scott - was too unreliable to entrust the massive undertaking of a dissertation and the keyboard was just too small for writing 300+ pages). I knew the day was coming when I needed to start considering replacing it.
I think that day is upon us.
What to do? Among my options:
My DVD Player/CD-Writer on my computer died yesterday. I came into my office and it was making some strange noise and the light was flashing in an unsettling pattern.After shutting down the computer and rebooting, the light changed to red and the computer no longer believes that the drive exists.
I also had a CD-ROM drive that died on me a couple of months ago. The computer still talks to it, but the drive refuses to open up to anyone else.
The consequences of these events are dire. I can no longer put music on my computer from CDs.
The recent failure is just a sign of the fragile health of my computer. I have had this computer for four years now and it is starting to have random fits (old things and people tend to do that). I got it to write my dissertation on (the laptop I had - which is not in the loving care of Scott - was too unreliable to entrust the massive undertaking of a dissertation and the keyboard was just too small for writing 300+ pages). I knew the day was coming when I needed to start considering replacing it.
I think that day is upon us.
What to do? Among my options:
- Get a cheap external hard drive and hope that the computer continues to clunk along for a little longer.
- Get a cheap PC to replace the computer for now.
- Invest in a better PC that will carry me through the next couple of years.
- Switch to a Mac - also a bigger investment.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Irony of Freedom
It is sad day when students are more free to voice their dissent in Iran than in the US (and the leadership is more willing to accept it).
Do I think there is more freedom in Iran than in the US?
No.
But I do think that the current administration's policy of segregating (at best) and silencing (at worst) dissent is a very slippery slope that we are on.
And despite the last election, we need to remain vigilant.
It is sad day when students are more free to voice their dissent in Iran than in the US (and the leadership is more willing to accept it).
Do I think there is more freedom in Iran than in the US?
No.
But I do think that the current administration's policy of segregating (at best) and silencing (at worst) dissent is a very slippery slope that we are on.
And despite the last election, we need to remain vigilant.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Moving On
Sometimes it seems like tyrants live forever. Fortunately one has come to pass. Augusto Pinochet has joined the Chileans who died from torture and executions under his watch in whatever awaits us beyond this earthly existance.
I had an uncle when I was very young, about three or four, who was from Chile. I don't remember much about him except that he treated my aunt poorly, he played the accordion, and he used to talk about Pinochet. I do remember asking my parents who this Pinochet was.
This is how I learned the meaning of the words dictatorship, coup, torture, and persecution.
Even my father who is rather conservative, did not have nice things to say about this Pinochet guy. I also thought it was silly for a leader to have a name that was so close to Pinocchio's.
It is nice to see that Chile has moved forward, being the first Latin American country to elect a woman president on her own merit.
And could someone tell me why the Texas flag looks so much like the Chilean flag?
Sometimes it seems like tyrants live forever. Fortunately one has come to pass. Augusto Pinochet has joined the Chileans who died from torture and executions under his watch in whatever awaits us beyond this earthly existance.
I had an uncle when I was very young, about three or four, who was from Chile. I don't remember much about him except that he treated my aunt poorly, he played the accordion, and he used to talk about Pinochet. I do remember asking my parents who this Pinochet was.
This is how I learned the meaning of the words dictatorship, coup, torture, and persecution.
Even my father who is rather conservative, did not have nice things to say about this Pinochet guy. I also thought it was silly for a leader to have a name that was so close to Pinocchio's.
It is nice to see that Chile has moved forward, being the first Latin American country to elect a woman president on her own merit.
And could someone tell me why the Texas flag looks so much like the Chilean flag?
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
At Work and Being Bad
Thanks to Sherri I am procrastinating and not grading. Mindless fun is just what I need right now...
Thanks to Sherri I am procrastinating and not grading. Mindless fun is just what I need right now...
Monday, December 04, 2006
Working
These days it seems like I am working at at least three jobs (but only really getting paid for one).
1. Teaching: This is what I would consider my day to day job. I have to prepare lectures and activities for my classes, grade, and meet with students regarding the course.
2. Research: Implicit with working at an institution of higher learning, one has to do research and prove the value of said research through scholarly channels; that is, one has to publish or at the very least present the findings.
3. My third job, however, I think comes more out of working at a public institution rather than a private one. Recently I feel like I am also a social worker. I seem to be encountering students with all sorts of problems and issues. Depression is the most common and prevailing issue. Some of them recognize it, while others try to hide it. As someone who suffers from this illness, I can usually recognize it whether hidden or not. Other issues some of my students face: domestic abuse, unwanted pregancies, dyslexia, and deaths of loved ones.
I have mixed feelings about this third job I have been thrust into. These students need help, but often do not know where to get it or are unable to get it. It seems that other faculty seem unsympathetic to their situation (but I am just acertaining that from the way they react to my willingness to listen and help). I let them know that I am not trained to help them with their specific issues, but I can lend an ear and try to help them find help.
Trying to help students with these issues is not in my job description, but I realize that often they are overwhelmed by these circumstances and they are not going to be successful with their education as a result of it. And making sure they are successful IS part of my job description. So what to do? The stream of students coming into my office has grown because as the semester comes to an end, the stress grows, the deadlines loom, and the students crack. The meetings and converstations are draining and time consuming, yet I feel I need to do what I can for them.
Why am I facing this new dimension of the education profession now? It must have something to do with the fact that I am dealing with a broader socio-economic spectrum of students. There are more students that do not have the resources to find and get the assistance that they need. In addition they might even have family situations where there is a lack of understanding of the issues that they face. Moreover, the school itself has less resources allocated to address the issues these students face.
For now I will continue to do what I can. Listen, give advice when asked for, and help find more competent forms of help when needed.
And there are some small rewards: the smile on a student's face who has gotten back on track and is doing well in class when a few weeks before she had been distraught and in tears in my office.
That said, I need a break soon. Just a few more weeks.
These days it seems like I am working at at least three jobs (but only really getting paid for one).
1. Teaching: This is what I would consider my day to day job. I have to prepare lectures and activities for my classes, grade, and meet with students regarding the course.
2. Research: Implicit with working at an institution of higher learning, one has to do research and prove the value of said research through scholarly channels; that is, one has to publish or at the very least present the findings.
3. My third job, however, I think comes more out of working at a public institution rather than a private one. Recently I feel like I am also a social worker. I seem to be encountering students with all sorts of problems and issues. Depression is the most common and prevailing issue. Some of them recognize it, while others try to hide it. As someone who suffers from this illness, I can usually recognize it whether hidden or not. Other issues some of my students face: domestic abuse, unwanted pregancies, dyslexia, and deaths of loved ones.
I have mixed feelings about this third job I have been thrust into. These students need help, but often do not know where to get it or are unable to get it. It seems that other faculty seem unsympathetic to their situation (but I am just acertaining that from the way they react to my willingness to listen and help). I let them know that I am not trained to help them with their specific issues, but I can lend an ear and try to help them find help.Trying to help students with these issues is not in my job description, but I realize that often they are overwhelmed by these circumstances and they are not going to be successful with their education as a result of it. And making sure they are successful IS part of my job description. So what to do? The stream of students coming into my office has grown because as the semester comes to an end, the stress grows, the deadlines loom, and the students crack. The meetings and converstations are draining and time consuming, yet I feel I need to do what I can for them.
Why am I facing this new dimension of the education profession now? It must have something to do with the fact that I am dealing with a broader socio-economic spectrum of students. There are more students that do not have the resources to find and get the assistance that they need. In addition they might even have family situations where there is a lack of understanding of the issues that they face. Moreover, the school itself has less resources allocated to address the issues these students face.
For now I will continue to do what I can. Listen, give advice when asked for, and help find more competent forms of help when needed.
And there are some small rewards: the smile on a student's face who has gotten back on track and is doing well in class when a few weeks before she had been distraught and in tears in my office.
That said, I need a break soon. Just a few more weeks.
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