Something Creative » farce

The Death of Critical Thinking

Nil17 — Thu, 06 Jan 2011 05:43:10 +0000

I have a deep love of books & as a self-described English geek I take pride in my love of much classic literature. I remember vividly the first time I read Shakespeare’s plays & the first time I fell under the spell of Scarlett O’Hara & her beloved Tara. I was 10 maybe 11 years old & while my classmates were checking out Nancy Drew & Hardy Boys mysteries (not that there’s anything wrong with them…I’ve read my share & enjoyed them too) I was lugging giant books home to pour over late into the night. I also clearly recall sitting in class in elementary school and listening to the teacher read a chapter of a book aloud every day. The first time I became acquainted with Mark Twain was when I sat, transported, as the teacher read Tom Sawyer & then The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. It was magical.

Recently it was announced that a new edition of Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn going to be released. The reasoning for the new edition is the use of the n-word throughout the text.

The word occurs more than 200 times in Huckleberry Finn, first published in 1884, and its 1876 precursor, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, which tell the story of the boys’ adventures along the Mississippi river in the mid-19th century. In the new edition, the word will be replaced in each instance by “slave”. The word “injun” will also be replaced in the text.

The new edition’s Alabama-based publisher, NewSouth books, says the development is a “bold move compassionately advocated” by the book’s editor, Twain scholar Dr Alan Gribben of Auburn University, Montgomery. It will have the effect, the publisher claims, of replacing “two hurtful epithets” in order to “counter the ‘pre-emptive censorship‘ that Dr Gribben observes has caused these important works of literature to fall off curriculum lists worldwide.” ¹

Surely Mark Twain is going to spend years haunting the people who approved this. Writers (at least the really good ones) choose words for a reason. They use words to evoke a sense of place, to provoke the reader into the mindset that will carry the individual deep into the text. Twain’s use of the n-word was very deliberate; part of his social commentary on the era in which the use of such language was prevalent. That word today is verboten, as it should be, in common speech. However, to remove it from a text such as Twain’s Huckleberry Finn or Tom Sawyer is not only censorship but also a revisionist version of history.

Our society is so consumed with avoiding the possibility of offending others that we have tossed common sense & critical thinking out with our unrecycled styrofoam. How can we learn from our history if we are so busy snipping, patching & denying what happened? Yes there was a time where people used racial slurs on a regular basis…it is a sad part of our past. We cannot pretend it didn’t happen–doing that not only rewrites the past but it also negates the work done by civil rights activists.

When I was learning about these stories in elementary school we discussed the mentality of the times, the language, customs etc. We were taught why the racial slurs were unacceptable…not just in school but at home too. Now we treat our children like mushrooms…keep them in the dark & feed them a fine line of crap. Rather than use Huck Finn as a discussion tool we sanitize it to make sure nobody is offended. Our educational system should be the finest in the world. Instead we are rewriting history, smoothing over the ugly parts of classic literature and generally removing the process of critical thinking from learning. We are creating children who accept whatever they are told. There isn’t any reason for them to examine what is right & wrong (or socially acceptable–think Golden Rule).

Sanitized literature (and history) does no favors for anybody. It keeps us from learning, from repeating the mistakes of past generations…as Satayana famously said, “Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it”. I shudder to think what we are dooming our children to repeat by not remembering & teaching our unvarnished past.

Log Jam in My Brain

Nil17 — Fri, 29 Oct 2010 18:24:28 +0000

I am having a terrible log jam in my brain lately. I have so many thoughts & ideas swirling around I can’t concentrate let alone think straight. Please bear with me as I attempt to get some of it out so that maybe I can revisit some of it later.

One thing that is pinging around is the articles & stories of bullying that are running rampant over the last month. I’m appalled by these tragic stories. I clearly remember my teenage years & remember thinking that if the oft quoted “These are the best years of your life” was indeed true that I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep going. I went to a relatively small high school (three districts combined to make a total of 55 kids in my graduating class)… I have vivid memories of some pretty harsh bullying that was directed at me. I’m sure I wasn’t always as kind as I should have been & for that I’m sorry. I did my best though…I was friends with the outcasts (heh, I WAS an outcast) & tried to find something kind to say about everybody. Much like now I was a peacemaker. I would do virtually anything to avoid or diffuse conflict. I can hold my own in a fight (be it verbal or physical) but that is my last resort.

For anybody out there reading this who is struggling— you are NOT alone & it does get better! Life is hard— I’m struggling with depression as I type this. However, I also know that I am truly blessed with an amazing husband (I never thought I’d find a man that could love me), a miracle baby boy (I had to learn to become comfortable with the idea that I may never have kids—the only thing I’ve ever wanted was to be a mom) and a group of family & friends that continue to speak with me (this makes me dumbfounded as I’m usually convinced they would be much better off w/o me).

I’ve also got a lot of self-doubt/loathing beating me up. This is something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. Sometimes it isn’t as much of a battle. Then there are the times where my body, mind & MIL conspire to make me dive headfirst into some truly legendary wallowing. Generally I’ve been pretty happy with me over the last 4 months. I lost a decent amount of weight in a hurry (without trying— yay for pregnancy weight that disappears & for the aid of breastfeeding). There are things that I don’t like about it —nothing fits me properly including most of my panties. Let me just say that there are few things more awkward than walking around having to hitch up both your undies & your pants on a regular basis. Thank goodness that I didn’t lose my boobs or none of my shirts would look decent either. As it is I’m glad that I can continue to wear all my nice sweaters without looking like I’m wearing a trash bag. However, after this past weekend I’m hyper-critical of how I look. Nothing like being told “You look really good now that you’ve lost all that weight; how much more are you planning to lose?”. Seriously why would someone say things like that? Especially to a daughter-in-law. I may not be a teeny tiny girl but mostly I’m okay with that. I take pride in the fact that I look like a woman. There are a multitude of things I would refine but I wouldn’t want to be a tall skinny no-boobed girl. I like that when my son snuggles up with me we are both comfy & cushioned. Mostly I struggle with wanting to feel okay with myself & seeing why I shouldn’t thrown in my face every time I turn around.

All in all my brain is a jumble of feeling like I’m not worthy & yet on an average day where I wake up, run downstairs & get on with life I think “Damn, I don’t look half bad”. It sucks!!

The One Where I Go to the Hospital–Final Chapter?

Nil17 — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 18:59:52 +0000

When last we were together our heroine was cruising along on a cocktail of pain meds & sedation drugs. Snowmen were being annihilated by her ever efficient flicks (‘cuz let’s face it snowmen are creepy…with their hollow black eyes & that inane empty smile). Meanwhile the doctors were still stumped as to what was causing all the pain. After a battery of tests (all of which came back normal—see it’s a medically proven fact that I’m normal) and no answers I was more than a little upset. Not to mention that nobody bothered to tell me what the test results were. One of my nurses was super great (all of them were so nice to me) and filled me in on the parts she knew so I had the barebones idea that nothing big was showing up in the test results. Since there didn’t seem to be any answers the doctors (I had 2 surgeons, an internist, a gastroenterologist, an ob/gyn & her med student and a general physician) came by my room every day to see how I was feeling. This mostly consisted of asking how I was feeling (horrible & in pain) & then probing & pushing down on my right side asking if it hurt (Of course if bloody well hurts…holy grief that’s why I came into the ER in the first place. The dull aching pain from my rib cage to my hip coupled with the sharp stabbing pains in the area of the rib cage). What did they think I was going to change my mind? Did it look like I was having fun?? Okay, I’ll admit that for the first 15-30 minutes after getting a brand new dose of Dilaudid I was pretty happy. Seriously with that stuff you could do whatever you wanted to me & I wouldn’t have objected….well I might have objected but probably not very hard. In any case Thursday was a day of waiting. I was waiting for the second surgeon to look over my charts & then visit me. It never happened. I spent the day drifting in and out of consciousness….I was so tired! Abe sat with me and when I was awake we talked, watched some telly & played on the interwebz. I was feeling pretty dejected by the time Abe left on Thursday night. We talked it over & agreed that if something wasn’t decided by Friday that I was checking out & going home. Friday dawned with me in a stupor. A week of fitful sleep & much poking by nurses, aides & doctors left much to be desired. We waited all day for the second surgeon to come visit. In fact we waited most of the day for the general physician to visit. By the time they both showed up I was in probably the worst pain I’d had all week. Still they both examined me (by that I mean asked how I felt & then poked me where it hurt) & then decided that since there was no solid conclusion to why I was in pain etc that they would send me home with some prescriptions. So on Friday evening the nurse gave me an extra dose of pain meds, removed the IV & wheeled me down to the entrance. I had just spent 5 days in the hospital (without insurance) and the only thing I had to show for it was a hospital bill that I’m terrified of getting in the mail. Thus ends the tale of my week in hospital. Putting the events to screen here makes me even more aware of how irritated I am that I have no answers. While the doctors did acknowledge that maybe my gallbladder isn’t functioning as well as it should they still don’t believe it’s causing the problems I’ve described. So I’m doing the best I can with what I know. I’m careful to eat very little & very specific kinds of food…like I can have lean meat (which I try to stick to anyway) or a chicken breast, I can eat Cheerios. I do know that if I cut out all the fat in my diet that I’m just as likely to have a gallbladder attack as I would if I ate a pound of bacon. The research I’ve been doing says that even with surgery I only have a 60% chance of feeling better. HA! No thanks, I think I’ll try something else first. I don’t mind changing my diet more…it’s something I need to do anyway. What I do mind is the idea of never enjoying food again…so I’m being more careful but allowing for little indulgences. I’m searching out alternative medicine such as acupuncture & acupressure along with stuff I may not have discovered yet. Modern medicine seems to be more about treating the symptoms (my pain) than eliminating the cause of it. Not to mention the cost of modern medicine. I’m not saying that doctors shouldn’t be paid well. I am saying that it’s beyond outrageous that a consultation with an ob/gyn that lasts less than 20 minutes should not cost $245. Seriously, that’s the one bill I already received….she spoke to me for less than 20 minutes & worked in a quick pelvic exam while she was at it & for that she gets $245. I’m not including the cost of any tests (mostly because she didn’t give me any) or lab work. An side note to the hospital stay…I wish someone would have told me that I would feel like grim death after I left. It doesn’t seem right that I felt even worse when I left than when I went in. Saturday I did nothing but sleep with the odd trip to the bathroom thrown in. It took every ounce of strength I possessed to walk the 15 feet from my side of the bed to the bathroom & back. Sunday wasn’t much of an improvement… I slept through my nephews 4th birthday party. I’m feeling more like myself now…still with the pain but I choose to ignore it the best I can. What the future holds is anybody’s guess…right now I’m trying to get out & enjoy what’s left of my summer.

Help! I’m 92 & I Need to Flatten My Stomach

Nil17 — Wed, 13 May 2009 18:59:21 +0000

It’s that time again folks…yup, I’ve got a rant & it’s a doozy. This rant has nothing to do specifically with bras so you can relax. I’m not going to discuss my cleavage today. However, I am going to talk about women, their bodies & what the hell is wrong with people! Mom called me the other night to relate the following story. She & my younger sister B went to visit my 92 year old grandmother. Grandma J does pretty well by herself although she is more forgetful than she used to be. Grandma still does a little (very little) driving, washes her clothes (at 5 am every Saturday, don’t try to use the machines then…she’ll cut you), and all the various other chores that a woman who lived her life working hard finds to keep herself busy. (Yes those are stacks of bodice ripper paperbacks in the back closet. No you may not read them as she will be passing them along to the next old lady in her reading circle.) Anyway, Mom & B were visiting Grandma J and they were visiting in the living room. Grandma started to complain about how she feels, her health (remarkably excellent for 92), and her appearance. Grandma’s specific complaint…Her stomach isn’t flat enough. Yes that’s right ladies…all that insecurity you feel over the flatness of your tummy is being felt by a woman in her 90s. She has lived through WWII, the Great Depression, the 60s, the death of family & friends, financial difficulties, raising kids, working on a farm (I could go on for ages with this) & yet her worry is whether or not her stomach is flat. Of course I understand the desire to look good…and who doesn’t want one of those impossibly flat stomachs with nary a ripple or spot of unsightly flab. Still it disgusts me that we women are so conditioned by our culture that an elderly woman is trying to find the perfect exercise to achieve this impossible dream. Seriously! We live in a society where women who do not fit a specific ideal are treated like lower class citizens. As a height challenged, non-stick person I’ve learned that I can expect less from the general world than my tall, semi-stick acquaintances. It’s something I struggle with a lot—and yes I should put down this delicious croissant & cup of coffee with cream— but I’m too busy indulging in the sensory delights of fluffy, buttery delight chased with the dark creamy flavor of South American caffiene. One thing this “ideal” doesn’t even come close to considering is basic genetics. It is impossible for all of us to be a perfect 5’8”, 110 lb stick person. As far as I’m concerned it’s good we aren’t all this “ideal”…(that’s not to say that sometimes I don’t curse my looks) I mean the world would be an awfully dull place if there wasn’t some variety. Can you imagine what it would be like if we only had one kind of tree? Just imagine if the only tree were a 30’ white pine. Or what if there was only 1 flower…only pansies (I love panises by the way. They hold a very special place in my heart & on my body). Creation would indeed be a very dull, dreary place if we determined to make everything fit some “ideal” that was randomly decided upon & then sold to the world at large as the way it should be. I know so many women who are beautiful in their own unique ways. It really has very little to do with their physical appearance or at least JUST their physical appearance. There is much to be said for character, brains & a wacky sense of humor. I’ve known many women who had the physical ideal down solid…looking at them is breathtaking. It’s almost hard to belive they are real people…and after talking to them for 5 seconds I feel my own IQ plummeting like the stock market on Black Monday. Back to Grandma J for a bit though…This is a woman who has trouble bending over & can’t touch her toes (it’s ok, she’s elderly & we don’t want her putting a hip out). However, in a bid to attain that flat tummy she will lie down on her living room floor & work on crunches. I’m 60 years younger than she is & I won’t do that. (Yep I don’t have a flat stomach.) It seems ridiculous to me that by the time I reach my 90s there is a distinct possibility that I will feel the need to follow this behaviour. Kudos to Grandma J for attempting it though, she’s a better woman than I am. Of course she puts up with a lot more than I ever would. She had a colonoscopy not that many years ago ‘cuz they wanted to be sure they caught an cancer “early”. Really?!?!?!?! At 80+ years old she had a colonoscopy. At 91 she had a mammogram (see my post on that here). I’m sure by the time she reaches 95 (if we are lucky enough to have Grandma J around that long) she’ll need a complete face lift, a tummy tuck (‘cuz the crunches aren’t working) & some laser eye surgery. So tell me what you think….let’s see some comments on this. (I’m going to be avoiding the mirror as I don’t want to think about crunches & I can’t seem find a single thing about me that isn’t in need of a major overhaul. If I don’t look in the mirror I can lie to myself that I’m a cute girl with some kickin’ curves & some awesome cleavage…Now where did that 1 bra that fit me go???)

The “Family” Circus

Nil17 — Mon, 04 May 2009 02:02:59 +0000

Today we headed for my sister-in-law Anne’s house. She’s busy being a single mom right now as my brother-in-law Pete is off at boot camp. With a 3 1/2 yr old & a 7 month old (both very active boys) she has her hands full. The last couple weeks have been particularly trying as they have all had pink eye, colds & possibly strep throat. Then just as that has all started to clear up the oldest took a flying leap onto his bed, fell & smacked his mouth on the frame. Needless to say there was gushing blood & a trip to the urgent care facility. After all that we decided to make a second trip up this week to give her a hand. I went along so that we could take the boys to the circus while Hubby stayed at the house to fix a broken pipe & some cabinet doors. We arrived at the arena, parked & decided to take the skyway inside. Mostly because it allowed us the excuse of riding in the elevator which little A loved. We walked in & as we got close to the entrance I could see people standing outside holding signs. As I looked harder I saw that these were protesters. Yep that’s right the animal rights activists were picketing the circus. Now that is not surprising in & of itself…this sort of thing happens all the time. I understand the reasons & I don’t agree with animal cruelty…however I think that waving signs with explicit images of abused animals in front of small children is inappropriate at best. Finally we get inside, buy our tickets, find seats & get settled in. When the show starts we see a group of girls shimmy into the center ring dressed like rejects from an off strip Vegas show. Yep real live dancing girls….at the circus (See I know it was the circus & not a bad lounge act or strip club ‘cuz there were tigers and elephants). And we didn’t just see these girls once…oh no we were treated to 3 different appearances, including costume changes (each getting a little more revealing) and some spinning around on the ropes high above the floor. It was ok I guess…not too spectacular (unless you were at the circus for T&A which I wasn’t…I could stay home & look in the mirror for that). It was an ok time. The boys liked it mostly so that was good…we got to see the elephant which was our favorite part. The clowns were creepy & unsettling as always, the motorcycles on highwires was cool too. Not big on the circus—never have been (except for the trapeze & highwire stuff which we didn’t see much) and hope that I’m off the hook for going again for a very long time.

Amazon, City Hall & UPS

Nil17 — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 22:33:13 +0000

On Friday 4/10 I placed an order with Amazon.com for a book I’ve been lusting after for a short if passionate time. I was all set to receive my copy of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales (Penguin classics edition) today. It was not to be however. With a combination of incredible incompetence, ignorance & bad policies Amazon & City Hall have managed to deny be the ecstasy of a new book. (Yes I said ecstasy! There are few things I love better than the smell of ink on paper, the smooth texture of unread pages sliding past my fingers tips…truly bliss to me).

A year ago our little slice of heaven was annexed by the city. We received notification that our address was changed effective immediately. However we’ve continued to use the old address as that’s what the bank knows, the post office recognizes it etc. Recently we were told we should start using the new address. Being someone who occasionally follows the rules (Ok, I try to follow the rules. My life tends to run much smoother when someone else is running it.) I decided that using the new address would be prudent since I was so desperate for this new book.

Fast-forward through the weekend to this morning. After getting to work I took a quick moment to log in to my Amazon account and track my package. All systems appeared to be go and UPS had sent it out for delivery today. Certain that nothing could go wrong I eased into my day & left thoughts of the book to flit in and out. Such momentary thoughts made me smile & look forward even more to lunch when I could take the first opportunity to look for the delivery. Lunch flew past as it always does & back at my desk I checked for a tracking update. Much to my surprise it showed the package had been delivered at 11:59:00 to my front door. Odd I thought as I had been home at 11:59:00 and there was no large brown truck that visited me (I was in the shower but the dogs would have barked) nor was there a package anywhere near my front door.

Of course I could not let this stand. My book had been delivered to someone entirely undeserving of such a gift. (Besides they’ll probably not appreciate the book). With all the CDO (yes OCD to you “normal” people) I abandoned any pretense of work to devote myself to the capture of my wayward parcel. After much searching, several phone calls home (to order for more phone calls to the post office, the neighbors, & UPS), & a visit from my husband; the following was concluded. Wherever the package is we can’t find it. UPS was very helpful—to a point—and said normally they would do an auto-trace, speak with the driver & fully investigate where the package had landed. However, being hamstrung by Amazon policy I must contact Amazon directly. Off I flew, fingers a blur as I entered my account information to send an email to Amazon. I politely (get more flies with honey…) explained the situation & asked for a replacement at no cost ASAP. I was rewarded with the notice that someone may or may not respond within 12 hours.

In a bid to find out why nobody but the city recognizes the new address (not UPS, USPS, Google Earth or any other “authority” we could think of gives us acknowledgement that the address is valid), Husband stops at city hall. Of course in keeping with the completely backwater appearance they try so hard to maintain the office is closed—FOR. THE. DAY. Yes that’s right…our city hall is open for the convenient hours of 9-Noon Monday thru Friday. No wonder nobody knows about our new address…city hall hasn’t been open long enough to make the appropriate notifications.

As it stands now I am hoping my good friend at the local winery will be able to flag down the local UPS driver and detain him until Husband arrives with the bare light bulb & rubber hose. I’m going to get answers I don’t care if I have to go all Gitmo on somebody! Moral of this little tale is two-fold. One don’t listen to a damn thing city hall says, EVER. Two, don’t screw with me over books because it will not end well for you friend.

Codicil: As of 4 pm the package was located. Due to the brilliance inefficiency of city hall there is no sign marking the new address (even though they’ve had a year to do it). Our UPS driver who is amazing & was not subject to Gitmo type treatment accidentally marked the package as delivered. He was unable to rectify the error from his little delivery confirmation thingy. My friend at the winery obtained the package for me & held it until I was done with work. I am now in possession of my new book & quite content with the final outcome. I will however be speaking to city hall….if I can get an appointment within the next year.

Anybody Can Grow Up to be President: A Fishy Tale of How Campaigns Are Built

Nil17 — Sun, 11 Jan 2009 20:32:12 +0000

As an obsessive user of Twitter (when left to my own devices…Hubby went camping) I spent many hours following conversations & participating in one which could lead to the election of a very different administration in 2012. Rather than explain the events I shall let you my dear reader witness history in action. (A quick side note: I am not editing these for spelling, grammar or punctuation. It does drive me crazy but what can I do…this is how it REALLY happened.) Morticia626: Since PETA wants fish renamed sea kittens… TerenceSmelser: @Morticia626 ok, I’ll bite, what’s a sea kitten? otter? Morticia626: @TerenceSmelser PETA wants fish to be called sea kittens,so people stop eating them. I’m not kidding TerenceSmelser: @Morticia626 LOL still fish, still food. a shame that people (term used loosely) like PETA cant direct that energy to something that matters. Morticia626: @TerenceSmelser but they’ve given us so much entertainment. TerenceSmelser: @Morticia626 true enough. Hope one never steps between me and a bucket full of crab legs. WTF do these idiots want us to eat? At this point I had to join the conversation. I like animals…I have dogs & they are a part of my family. I don’t believe in torturing animals for any purpose. However, I do believe in eating some of them. I nice big steak, grilled to perfection with a glass of good wine is an exquisite experience. As far as I’m concerned if God didn’t want us to eat the animals he would have given them better defenses & made them less tasty. You don’t hear a lot about the eating of the more vicious animals. Besides renaming an entire genus & species of animals is beyond absurd. Don’t these PETA people realize that cats eat fish?! nil17: @TerenceSmelser unfortunately soy anything and vegetables. Until they start to attribute feelings to those too. Morticia626: @TerenceSmelser beans,sprouts,tofu…who knows. They’re nuts. Morticia626: @nil17 I know I’ve heard green beans scream while I was picking them. *son* it’s hard to think about nil17: @Morticia626 I know and all those eyes on the potatoes looking at me…It makes me uncomfortable. TerenceSmelser: @nil17 @Morticia626 do they? I likes me veggies but a big slab of dead cow now thats a meal Perhaps they should assist those that NEED food Morticia626: @TerenceSmelser mmmmm dead cow! I also enjoy dead sheep and pig. Cooked of course. @nil17 y don’t potatoes have rights? I’m pretty sure they registered and voted this year TerenceSmelser: @Morticia626 some voted twice… well ok, they were as smart as potatos Morticia626: @nil17 @TerenceSmelser maybe next time the sea kittens can vote. Or run for pres as a democrat I’ll skip ahead here a bit as we cast aspersions at various members of the incoming administration and many other people…it’s boring & you can use your imagination to fill the gaps. (here’s a small sample: nil17: @Morticia626 maybe that’s where all the votes for Franken came from) nil17: @Morticia626 @TerenceSmelser it can be a whole ticket : Sea Kitten/Potato 2012 TerenceSmelser: @Morticia626 @nil17 #Sea Kitten/Potato 2012 nil17: @Morticia626 @TerenceSmelser I wonder if they’d run on a cedar plank platform with dipping sauce…mmmm fish & chips. TerenceSmelser: @nil17 Malt vinager for Chief of Staff? nil17: @TerenceSmelser yes and Tall Beer for Sec of State. TerenceSmelser: @nil17 ok, now thats a party i can get behind! nil17: @TerenceSmelser LOL Tater Salad as the Sec of Defense. TerenceSmelser: @nil17 or chief justice So now you can see how it all starts. A small group of people decide to back a candidate & they spread the word (#Sea Kitten/Potato 2012). Soon there are fundraising dinners (obviously we’ll just serve air & water…can’t offend the base constituents by serving meat or veggies), campaign signs and speeches. (“We are here today to move in a new direction. A direction where there are no boundaries, anyone can accomplish anything and equal rights for all inanimate objects…”). Aren’t you anxious to get involved & help with this grassroots effort?