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Tuesday, May 04, 2004

Put him in the cornfield

Yesterday I was grading papers—honest!—in Penn State’s HUB-Robeson student center when I looked up at one of the ubiquitous CNN feeds and learned that L. Paul Bremer had retracted his February 2001 remarks about the Bush administration’s pre-9/11 inattention to terrorism.  You remember those remarks:

“What they will do is stagger along until there’s a major incident and then suddenly say, ‘Oh my God, shouldn’t we be organized to deal with this,”’ said Bremer at a McCormick Tribune Foundation conference on terrorism on February 26, 2001.

(By the way, no one seems to have noticed that Bremer was actually quite wrong about this.  On the afternoon of 9/11, they didn’t say, “Oh my God, shouldn’t we be organized to deal with this.” They said, “now, how can we tie this to Saddam Hussein?")

On Sunday, however, Bremer released a statement that said, in part:

“Criticism of the new administration . . . was unfair. President Bush had just been sworn into office and could not reasonably be held responsible for the Federal Government’s inaction over the preceding 7 months.

“I regret any suggestion to the contrary. In fact, I have since learned that President Bush had shared some of these frustrations, and had initiated a more direct and comprehensive approach to confronting terrorism consistent with the threats outlined in the National Commission report.

“I am strongly supportive and grateful for the President’s leadership and strategy in combating terrorism and protecting American national security throughout his first term in office.”

And sitting there in the HUB, I thought to myself, where have I seen this show before?  No, not the one with John DiIulio.  The one written by Jerome Bixby and adapted by Rod Serling.  It’s called “It’s a Good Life,” and it involves a young boy (played by Billy Mumy) with psychic powers.  He’s managed to isolate his town of Peaksville, Ohio from the rest of the world, and he demands that the adults entertain him and—at all costs—keep thinking happy good thoughts.  Occasionally an adult will express some alarm about some aspect of the child’s regime, but will be compelled immediately to think good thoughts and tell the child that it was a good thing—a real good thing he done when he took control of the town.  People who fail to toe the line get put “in the cornfield,” and at one point an older man has a bit too much to drink, complains openly about the child, and is transformed into a hideous jack-in-the-box (and then banished to the cornfield).

So I went around the rest of the day thinking happy good thoughts.  It’s a good thing we invaded Iraq—a real good thing.  Richard Clarke is a bad man.  We’re gonna put him in the cornfield with Paul O’Neill and Joseph Wilson.  Paul Bremer better keep thinking happy thoughts or we’re gonna turn him into a jack-in-the-box just like we did with . . . and then it occurred to me, has anyone seen Colin Powell lately?

Posted by Michael on 05/04 at 02:05 AM
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Monday, May 03, 2004

Finals week

In which blogging will have to be secondary to reading 33 undergraduate essays and eleven graduate seminar papers.  (This also means that all postings this week will represent instances of the GAP, or Grading Avoidance Phenomenon.) But I do have two things planned for the near future-- a small treatise on what to do with one’s third-party desires when you’ve got a Democratic presidential nominee taking positions on Cuba and Israel that are indistinguishable from (because identical to) the positions of the Republican nominee, and (in a bold innovation for this site) a readers’ poll.

In the meantime, a metapost about metablogging effluvia.  Apparently one of the search strings that has led people here recently is the following Zen poem:

calgary flames mustaches

I know this must have something to do with Lanny MacDonald.  But that doesn’t make it any less weird.

UPDATE:  All right, now somebody’s looking for ”Martin Gelinas hair color.” I am not making this up.  This can’t be a coincidence-- someone out there is messing with me.  Next it’ll be “Theoren Fleury eyebrows” or “Jarome Iginla three-day stubble.” I’m onto your little game, you Calgary Flames hair-configuration obsessive.

But congrats to the Flames on a brilliant series against the Red Wings.  I still think the Sharks will pull it out in seven against the Avalanche, but then again, Joe Sakic is my favorite player in the league and I don’t doubt that he can beat San Jose singlehandedly.

Posted by Michael on 05/03 at 02:14 AM
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Saturday, May 01, 2004

How to end grade inflation

The first step involves reading this essay on how to end grade inflation.  The second step involves doing everything I say.

And then you’ll be happier, I promise.

UPDATE:  A Maurice BÈrubÈ of Norfolk, Virginia writes in to say that the essay’s final line (about “a world in which the average grade was never anything more or less than the middle of the scale") confuses the average grade with the median grade.  Well, I could reply that by “middle” I meant “average” and that I was also alluding to the middle C on the piano keyboard.  But instead I just want to ask-- who is this guy?

Posted by Michael on 05/01 at 02:08 PM
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L’internationale on your blog day!

It occurred to me this morning that today might be a really good day for the workers to unite and rise up.  I mean, what do they have to lose?

In that spirit (the tune is here for those of you with RealPlayer):

Debout les damnÈs de la terre
Debout les forÁats de la faim
La raison tonne en son cratËre
C’est l’Èruption de la fin
Du passe faisons table rase
Foules, esclaves, debout, debout
Le monde va changer de base
Nous ne sommes rien, soyons tout

Chorus
C’est la lutte finale
Groupons-nous, et demain (bis)
L’Internationale
Sera le genre humain

Il n’est pas de sauveurs suprÍmes
Ni Dieu, ni CÈsar, ni tribun
Producteurs, sauvons-nous nous-mÍmes
DÈcrÈtons le salut commun
Pour que le voleur rende gorge
Pour tirer l’esprit du cachot
Soufflons nous-mÍmes notre forge
Battons le fer quand il est chaud.

L’Ètat comprime et la loi triche
L’impÙt saigne le malheureux
Nul devoir ne s’impose au riche
Le droit du pauvre est un mot creux
C’est assez, languir en tutelle
L’ÈgalitÈ veut d’autres lois
Pas de droits sans devoirs dit-elle
Egaux, pas de devoirs sans droits.

Hideux dans leur apothÈose
Les rois de la mine et du rail
Ont-ils jamais fait autre chose
Que dÈvaliser le travail
Dans les coffres-forts de la bande
Ce qu’il a crÈe s’est fondu
En dÈcrÈtant qu’on le lui rende
Le peuple ne veut que son d?.

Les rois nous saoulaient de fumÈes
Paix entre nous, guerre aux tyrans
Appliquons la grËve aux armÈes
Crosse en l’air, et rompons les rangs
S’ils s’obstinent, ces cannibales
A faire de nous des hÈros
Ils sauront bientÙt que nos balles
Sont pour nos propres gÈnÈraux.

Ouvriers, paysans, nous sommes
Le grand parti des travailleurs
La terre n’appartient qu’aux hommes
L’oisif ira loger ailleurs
Combien, de nos chairs se repaissent
Mais si les corbeaux, les vautours
Un de ces matins disparaissent
Le soleil brillera toujours.

Happy May Day, everyone.

Posted by Michael on 05/01 at 03:03 AM
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