EDUCATION & WRITING: Congratulations!

To Mary Ellen for winning a prize on one of her excellent short stories. She will be receiving recognition on Honors Day at Trinity College (Hartford, CT).

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LITERATURE: Acquisitions

Back from the library book sale and am excited about what I was able to find to add to my shelves, a couple of which were actually on my To Buy list.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings – Maya Angelou
The Robber Bride – Margaret Atwood
Cat’s Eye – Margaret Atwood
Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil – John Berendt
Don Juan and Other Satirical Poems – Lord Byron
The Fall – Albert Camus
Sanctuary – William Faulkner
Eat, Pray, Love – Elizabeth Gilbert
The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro
The Namesake – Jhumpa Lahiri
Billy Budd – Herman Melville
The Winter of Our Discontent – John Steinbeck
The Confessions of Nat Turner – William Styron
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court – Mark Twain
Alphabet of Wit – Voltaire
Humoresque – Humbert Wolfe

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LITERATURE: Time for a McCarthy fix?

In tagging all the Literature posts it amazes me how long ago I’ve read this or that. Of course this latest span of time spent with Ishiguro’s Unconsoled has set me way back in reading, though I’ve got a post to write on my progression through The Beans.

What really took me by surprise was how long it’s been since I’ve read my last McCarthy which was The Road. It’s been almost exactly two years–two whole years–and I think that’s good enough reason to toss Ishiguro back on the shelf regardless of the 200 pages I’m into it and select from a few McCarthy’s that I haven’t read yet.

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BLOGGING: Tags

Obviously the way cloud tags work is that the more uses of a tag, the larger the text. So far, and I’m only about a third into it, Kundera and Calvino have just beat out Ham Sandoval in size.

There’s always a decision to be made on categorization and sorting and on this single category of Literature I’ve already had to decide between book title and author. What I’d decided to do is use title for those that I’m more apt to have only a single work from the author or if the book is a particularly well known classic, and use author name for those that I’m frankly enamored with and will read more if not all of their work, i.e., Kundera, Marquez, Calvino, Faulkner, McCarthy, Borges, Steinbeck, and well, St. Augustine.

Then of course there are those which I may have read a single work, but I should have known that I’ll want to read more, such as Bellow and William Gay. Oh well, there’s never a perfect system.

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CODE: From the ‘One Thing Leads to Another’ Department

Yes, the banner needs to be redone. Obviously what I’ve done here is expand the style from an 800 pixel width to suit the more common 1280 pixel screen setup. What started it was the decision to go back and tag at least all the Literature posts (there are 1500 of them) since there was never a good way to redirect from the old Typepad weblogs over to WordPress. Google still directs to the old weblogs regardless of the fact that they do not exist–there’s a cache of some sort. So tagging the posts was one way of leading folks to the right entries. Might I say at this point that the search box here doesn’t really work all that well either, so that didn’t help much.

Well the tag cloud expanded and grew (still nowheres near done, only backward through 2006) and looked kind of squished in the 200 px column and that, along with my innate hatred of waste made it clear that it was time to expand.

So have patience, a new banner will be done soon. Hypercompendia’s looks worse; at least Spinning’s isn’t as obviously chopped in half.

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WRITING: Titles, Phrases, Concepts

Sometimes the weirdest words set themselves up for story. This morning, a title: “Memories of My Mother On The Pill” is banging around inside my head. Just before I discard it, leaving it here to wallow in its own wacked-out meaning, I consider where it could go: tribulation in the womb, the barriers set up to ensure failure, the image of an uncracked egg or sliding around without purchase. And, of course, the final triumph of nature over man’s inventions.

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POETRY: Finding the Way

I’ve been stuck on the Alzheimer’s series of poems that came in a rush for two days and then dwindled. I’m glad that the feelings came out, the memories of memory lost. Just sort of fell into it before I realized what was happening and now that I’d like to continue, the moments are there and yet I cannot find the words to let them ride out to freedom.

It’s like crawling back into one’s cave.

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CURRENT AFFAIRS: Ethical and/or Legal

Lots of interest in the release of the so-called torture memos, and lots of interesting and deeply intense questions arise. I suppose I’m not interested in the legalities as much as the morality of the use of torture. For one thing, laws come to define a position established by a society only after they have decided the ethical question. It is also clear to me that what may or may not be legal does not always jive with what may or may not be ethical. The two are often in opposition just by personal belief alone, and sometimes on a larger scale of right and wrong.

This is a matter of grave importance and yet it is something that even as we see it in movies and on TV, we prefer to believe that we as a people do not condone the torturing of prisoners in order to obtain information. The thing is, we do, and we likely have to if we’re talking about the safety and security of our society under threat.

Now waterboarding has to be a horrid experience, and even if they claim it doesn’t hurt, it’s the fear of death and the sensation of drowning that’s got to be pretty horrible. But let’s go beyond that to inflicting shame–for some people, that’s worse, or to the intentional infliction of pain.  We don’t want to think we can do this to other people and we may be able to justify it by concentrating on the people who we’re saving, a self-defensive move. And there’s this, if we feel and agree that any manner of torture is not acceptable and is in fact immoral, then we have to assume that death is worse than inflicting pain, and that is certainly our intention when we arm thousands of men and send them out to face the enemy in a process called war. Maybe then, some things are unfortunately necessary.

It’s a tough thing to decide and it looks like we can’t pretend anymore that our country doesn’t do this except in the movies. Now that it’s out in the open, we may have to make some sort of decision. We can’t simply impose our own personal values on the whole of society, nor can we risk the welfare of that society by accepting the refusal of a terrorist prisoner to offer information that threatens it.  Quite the dilemma.

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EDUCATION: Updating Old Curriculum

For all the English Professors out there, McSweeneys “Internet Age Writing Syllabus and Course Interview” is just too funny:

Week 1:
Reading is stoopid

This fundamental truth may seem obvious to today’s youth, but this wasn’t always the case. Students will examine why former generations carried around heavy clumps of bound paper and why they chose to read instead of watching TV or playing Guitar Hero.

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LITERATURE: The Beans of Egypt, Maine

Life’s too short. I don’t know if I’ll keep at Ishiguro’s The Unconsoled, but I’ve already relaxed into Carolyn Chute’s novel and feel comfortable there.

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WRITING & BLOGGING: The Perennial Question

Yeah, it’s been a while, but I’m again starting to ask myself “Why bother?”  prompted by lack of response (gotta find that Mark Bernstein post on why comments on blogs are not a great idea) but stirred to think more about it this morning by Carolyn’s tweet: “I STILL DON”T “GET” TWITTER…or blogging” and this, from Hugo Schwyzer’s weblog:

When W.H. Auden was asked by a Michigan graduate student “What can I do to become a better poet?”, he replied (this may be apocryphal) “Stop keeping a journal or writing long letters.” What Auden explained was that we do our best writing from pent-up thoughts and feelings; if we release that tension in diaries, for example, we might miss out on the chance to do some first-rate work. I am no Auden, and I am no poet. But if I want to write something that gets published somewhere other than on my blog, I need to be willing to give a bit more time to that project. This blog will continue, and fresh writing will appear here regularly — but it might just be once per week.

What struck me is Auden’s “we do our best writing from pent-up thoughts and feelings; if we release that tension in diaries, for example, we might miss out on the chance to do some first-rate work”  Well I’m certainly no Auden either, and no Faulkner or even a Steele, so I don’t have high hopes of publishing outside of my weblogs and so don’t mind sharing my thoughts and writings for free.

There’s an emptiness, however; an obvious emptiness when the work is out there and read–or not–and receives no reaction at all. Sort of like Friday night at the Improv, playing to an embarrassingly quiet full house. It’s likely less emotionally upsetting to keep things private–particularly when you feel like you’re hanging yourself out there and folks are just walkin’ on by. At least if kept to oneself, one can still feel that one’s words and thoughts have value since they’re not being judged if they’re not being offered. The creative mind imagines that one’s friends are either so bored that they don’t bother stopping by, or that your work is so bad that out of pity they avoid making a remark, tip-toeing silently away.

On the other hand, even as I write so much and so often here and in Hypercompendia that I must appear to have no live friends at all, I think that it has sharpened my writing skills rather than wasted them. And I do realize that blogging is more successful if it is focused topically, rather than shotgunned as I tend to do here. My Reality’s are boring or whiny to some; Literature discussions dreadfully tedious/interesting insight–but you can see that it limits the audience. And of course, political views on Current Affairs tend to always turn people off, regardless of the passion or writing put in. Something to think about.

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CURRENT AFFAIRS: Right to Carry on Campus

This Hartford Courant poll on the issue this week regarding students on two state campuses requesting the right to carry concealed weapons on campus show some surprising results (NOTE: I’ve been updating the chart below):

Guns on Campus?

Yes (5667 responses)

91.4%

No (534 responses)

8.6%

While my initial response to the question was pretty much that I didn’t trust kids with guns running around, I have to come back to the facts: that state law still requires one to be twenty-one years of age to carry, and it’s much, much harder to get a gun permit than it is to get a gun; that the ones who are intent on killing will always be able to sneak a gun in (and they haven’t been using small, concealable weapons!); that in many cases such as the fast-food restaurant massacre there was a woman who had left her gun in the car, whose father was killed along with many others, and who regrets deeply that she didn’t have that chance to prevent some of those murders. Thirty-two dead and twenty-five wounded by a single gunman at VA Tech–don’t you think a couple people firing back might have saved some lives? Or do you want him to stand there shooting people until he runs out of bullets?

While the shooting events on campus are relatively small compared to overall crime, the devastation in each event is total by the nature of the number of students and faculty that become sitting ducks for the shooter. Campuses safe? Well maybe, but why then are there so many ‘lockdowns’ of schools in the news lately as one of the first immediate steps taken following any form of shooting within running distance of a school?

I know this: I want to be able to carry a weapon legally to protect myself and others if necessary against the few nut-jobs out there that are depending on taking advantage of an opportunity and knowing full well that no one can stop them. I’ll bet the students at Columbine, VA Tech, and any of the few (but more than plenty to the victims’ friends and parents) schools that have seen the slaughter firsthand, wish that someone in the second row had had a weapon, aka, a chance to protect them.

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POETRY: Alzheimer’s IV

I wake up to
the ghost of her,
all that is left
stands there
in the dark above my couch–
her couch–on which,
half a dozen years ago
her independence
would never have allowed
for me to sleep there
stay there
a safeguard for my father’s
sleep; rest he needs
as temporary illness
interrupts
his normal watch.

Does she know me
does she know why I
am here?
How does she remember
how to find me?
She wants him,
and doesn’t understand
I am a wall that
talks her back to her bed.
Something leads her
to my side, again
and again,
this night, until
I bring her downstairs
to the kitchen and a cup
of hot brewed tea
with raspberry cognac
for sleep.

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POETRY: Quick Fix

I didn’t see it but I’d heard
the sky had fallen
somewhere in the southern part of Spain.
And someone (again, I don’t know for a fact)
had tried to patch the cracks with duct tape
rolled out like ribbons
and someone else stuffed cotton
in the holes
that looked like clouds
and then a lady from Wisconsin
sent a box of silver thumbtacks
which someone used to pin the edges
to the earth
and looking up at night
they shone like stars so
for a while,
everyone relaxed, ignored
the rumble that they said was thunder
and smiling at their handiwork,
sighed.

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POETRY: Magnolia

Magnolia waits
drinks the wine of April
clings to her wraps
of petal softness
purple, pink

Magnolia wants
that special someone
her mother, friends
and books had said
would come

Magnolia feels
before she sees him
dew glistening as she
opens wide to take in
the morning sun

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