That gust of wind . . .

. . . was a sigh of relief late this afternoon; I finished the one-hour class I had to teach in Critical Theory, on German literary critic Walter Benjamin's article "The Artwork in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction". The two professors’ evaluations constitute half my grade for the course, the other half being a research paper. Critical Theory is not my forte so I put in a fair few hours closely reading the material and making sure I understood it, then doing (for me) the fun part: creating a class presentation to explain his concepts. One of the things I really love about teaching is the hunt for ways to make the abstruse (or recondite!) understandable. I did a powerpoint presentation to help, and threw in a couple of fun but hopefully effective Monty-Pythonesque cartoon-collage illustrations involving Michelangelo’s David and the Venus de Milo.

Well, I was sweating like a sinner when I started but as (almost) always it got to be fun; the professors and the students had lots to say and things rolled along well. My peers gave me lots of good feedback on their forms; Dr. Martinez said I did well and since I did the best I could, I’m not going to worry about what grade I get.

Benjamin influenced and is still influencing literary criticism, film studies, art history and theory, and communications. He was a brilliant guy whose doctoral dissertation in Heidelberg was too far over the heads of the committee and they rejected it, effectively ending his academic career. He wrote essays until the Nazis came into power and like many Jews and intellectuals, fled for his life to Paris. Eventually he was not safe there either and made plans to emigrate to the U.S. via Spain. He and a couple of companions climbed into the Pyrenees to cross the border; Benjamin had a heart condition and suffered terribly on the climb, but pushed ahead less for his own freedom than to keep the heavy knapsack containing his manuscripts safe from the Nazis. As he rested at the top, the guides told him the next checkpoint was closed and he would have to go back and try again in a few days. Knowing he had no strength left, and feeling he’d accomplished his goal in bringing the manuscripts out of France, he ended his own life at age 48. This news so shocked the Spanish authorities that the next day they let his companions through.

I wish I could go back in time to that mountaintop for just a few minutes, to tell him that his words made it.

His is one of the stories I’ll think of the next time I’m complaining about my inkjet cartridge not working. I started to say how lucky I am to live in a place and time where I am free to seek higher education regardless of my gender, and free to speak my mind and conscience; but though it was luck to be born here, the freedoms I owe to a great many diverse people who went before me.

I also thank heaven that I was born to parents who encouraged me to learn and read and ask questions, and whose encouragement and belief in me have been there whenever I needed them, all my life. Not all are similarly blessed.

. . . nor do I forget Uncle Sam - for the student loans that made this enterprise possible!

Saturday Morning Long Ago

I saw an item in the paper about Johnny Depp's portrayal of Willy Wonka (no, haven't seen it but intend to); some people have seen a resemblance between his pale, prissy, slightly whacked interpretation and Michael Jackson. Depp says Jackson was not the inspiration; he remembered hosts of local children's shows he watched, and went for the slightly milquetoasty and strange manner he thought they projected.

Which made me think, of course, of Mr. Peppermint, our home-grown cartoon host

http://www.wfaa.com/s/dws/spe/2002/wfaafifty/sets3.html

. . . who could have served as such an inspiration. But then there was the other side of the coin:

http://home.texoma.net/~kgreg/slam_bang.html

I thought of my sibs while playing the theme song -- what a time trip! We watched Icky Twerp and Slam Bang Theater religiously. I loved The Three Stooges and Our Gang.

. . . and then there were the commercials by Artie Grindle ("I wanna sell YOU a car!"), who followed me to Florida and went into politics. I don't know how many kids were buying his used cars, but he relentlessly showed them between cartoons on Saturday morning; someone would drive a car up in front of Artie, who would take a big cardboard sign with the price on it off the windshield, hold the card up and yell about it for fifteen seconds, then throw the sign down as the next car drove up.

One car, priced at $28, gave up the ghost on camera and had to be pushed off screen by two of Grindle's henchmen.

On This Day . . .

. . . in 1956 my mama was not at home. Three days later Daddy took Jannie and me to a big parking lot. Before us was the most enormous building I had ever seen in my life; it went all the way up into the sky. Daddy sat us on the hood of the car, and told us to look very far up and we'd see Mama waving at us. I looked and looked but I only saw a gargoyle; I wondered for a moment whether something awful had happened to her, but inside I knew that wasn't my beautiful Mama. I tried so hard to find Mama somewhere up there that I fell off the car and scraped my arm. When we got home Daddy washed the scrape off over the bathroom sink. I remember it hurting and also how careful and tender he was. A few days later Mama came home with a baby. It was a little boy, named after Daddy, so a nickname was in order. We had moved from Louisiana to Texas not long before this and we started calling the new little guy "Tex" like in the cowboy movies. I was not old enough to have the sort of maternal feelings sisters sometimes have (and which I would have ten years hence for another little newcomer named Joe) but I loved my brother Tex very much.

Still do. Happy Birthday.

Tune

The Joys of Getting It Out There

Writing about the sixth Harry Potter book for this blog (having picked it up last Saturday and finished it Sunday), I thought of the accusation by some people that the series is evil and/or satanic, ostensibly because it contains witchcraft and sorcery. I find this surprising because I think the books can actually serve as moral exemplars for children. To me, the series is no more worthy of the label “evil” than Tolkien’s trilogy or C. S. Lewis’ Narnia Chronicles. So on impulse I sent what I had written to the Orlando Sentinel (which I still read every day because it’s more user-friendly than the Tallahassee Democrat and it feels like home).

http://www.orlandosentinel.com/news/opinion/
[click on "Here's to Positive Force. . . " ]

Over the decades I’ve had many dozen letters-to-the-editor published in the Sentinel (and three in Newsweek, big thrill) and maybe fifteen or more columns like the Harry Potter one. I enjoy this kind of writing because it forces me to clarify my thoughts and examine my arguments for soundness. (This does leave me open to the occasional experience of realizing that I’m just plain full of s*** on a particular topic, no other way to put it; but lucky the person who realizes that, to paraphrase Socrates). Writing letters also makes me feel that even in a small way, I’m exercising my right to free speech, being heard, and taking part in the conversation so necessary for the health of a free country.

[Digression on the subject of civil discourse: I absolutely refuse to let anyone convince me that my fellow Americans with different political views are evil, stupid, brainwashed, or in need of silencing, or that they and their views are only worthy of contempt and dismissal. The day I start believing that, I’ll pack up and move to Saudi Arabia or someplace similar, where there really is only one “acceptable” point of view.]

And finally, there’s the simple thrill of seeing my writing in print. About one out of every three or four letters I send is accepted. The Sentinel has a one-letter-per-sixty-days rule (though it was once relaxed for me), but sometimes I’ll send a letter anyway, knowing it’s ineligible, just for the reasons given above.

I sent a letter week before last that wasn’t accepted and I didn’t expect the Harry Potter column to make it; I felt sure I was just sending it to have sent it. When it was accepted I had a twinge, because I knew it wasn’t my best writing. It’s not bad, but I could have made it better, and I wish I had. I have to rewrite many times to be satisfied, and I didn’t in this case. So that’s an object lesson for me: “Whatever thy hand findeth to do . . .”

This is a good idea . . .

. . . and I urge my cellphone-owning loved ones to do it!

http://www.truthorfiction.com//rumors/i/ice.htm

Adding Pictures Gets Easier

No more going through "Hello" -- just click the picture icon when composing a new post. Here are my angels celebrating Phia's birthday at Chuck E. Cheese's.

So Chuck, where we headin' tonight?

International Cheese Festival and Monster truck rally? You're kidding, right?

Okay! Chick flick and art museum! Yeah! You're the best!

July 14: Kathy's Luck Turns and She Shows Good Sense by Appreciating It

Three weeks down and three to go ‘til the end of this term.

It started out as such a yucky week what with the hurricane and power outage, the heat, food spoiling, laptop crashing, a/c going out, and to top it off the bank charged me twice for a large (for me) withdrawal I had made in anticipation of the ATMS not working or running out of $$, as they sometimes do after a ‘cane strike.

But eventually everything ironed out and then life got wonderful on Thursday when I ran into Dr. Fenstermaker in the hall and he offered to do an independent study with me in the fall. This was the most excellent news for me; I danced home, sat down and made up a plan for finishing this degree, and will take it to the director for feedback. I love this experience and wouldn’t trade it for anything, but I also want to go home. I miss my kids and grandkids so terribly. I also miss my town, my friends, my familiar places and my routines . . . I like Tallahassee and FSU very much and am thrilled to be here; but this is not home.

Critical Theory continues to be a hard class but I have to say I’m learning a great deal and it’s easier now; this week we studied Marx, Tolstoy, and Virginia Woolf (“A Room of One’s Own”). I love Woolf’s piece on “Shakespeare’s Sister” in which she addresses the question of why women did not appear in the western canon of art and history -– an important question in her day because that absence was used to justify keeping women out of the universities, politics, and most professions.

I’ve been surprised by how much I love the Film Pedagogy class. I never was much of a major filmgoer and would not have guessed I’d be so into it. But it is definitely the way to connect to today’s students and I will probably make Film Studies my secondary area. This week we studied Film Noir, and watched The Killers; also saw 84 Charley Mopic, a relatively obscure Vietnam war film that I have to say was excellent. Normally I avoid war films like the plague and so would have never seen this. Rogert Ebert called 84 the most realistic film of that war that he’s seen. It was written and directed by a vet and done with handheld camera – sort of Blair Witch Gets Drafted – “Mopic” referring to the motion picture unit that usually filmed ceremonies, but this time was sent to follow a small unit doing reconnaissance. In fact, I suspect that the Blair Witch team (from University of Central Florida, by the way) were inspired by this 1989 film; it has the same sort of premise, that sometimes films by the Mopic unit arrived Stateside and what was on the film itself was often a surprise and not a pleasant one.

Owned!

Power was out 20 hours; I'm afraid to open the fridge. I'm sure it's a cubicle of horror. Of course the cell phone ran down; and for some reason, when I turned on my computer this morning, my hard drive was gone -- as in GONE. Not there. I had unplugged it, so I don't know if this is storm-related or a hideous coincidence. All I know is I didn't need this.

It's at the hospital right now and I'm using the grad computer lab in the library. I hope to get it back by the end of the week!

And of course, here's Emily, churning her way towards land. Reminds me too much of last fall; just when we got things back to normal (or not!) here would be another storm, or two or three, coming down the pipeline. It was like a conveyor belt at one point.

Onward and upward. . .

Dennis the Menace

He's a big guy and we are feeling it even here in Tally -- winds up to 50 mph, lots of rain. The power went out with a BANG about an hour ago. I feel so sorry for the people in Pensacola, many of whom haven't recovered from Ivan the Terrible last year. They are getting slammed even as I write this; Dennis is making landfall now.

Yes, Socrates Himself Is Particularly Missed . . .

Another week of the term gone, and my classmates and I take heart that this constitutes one-third down, two-thirds to go. Film Pedagogy is fun – this week we studied screwball comedies and war movies, what a combo – but Critical Theory is anti-fun. This week we studied Hume, Kant, Schiller and Hegel, specifically their importance in Western philosophy (for good or ill!) and especially their philosophy of art and aesthetics. Really, really dense stuff but necessary (critical, in fact). An added source of pain for me is that I am not a group learner. I could learn this material on my own or in a tutorial, but sitting in a class of 25 people and listening to their confusions (or even their clarifications) on the topic simply doesn’t help me. But there it is.

And of course when things got particularly stifling I’d sing Monty Python’s “Philosophers Song” to myself. That was a big help.

Here comes Dennis the Menace (hurricane – or himmacane) but once again I sit safely tucked in Florida’s armpit and my ‘cane kit is ready. And having survived the Axis of Evil ‘Canes last fall, I am without fear. Except of having the a/c go off.

“Axis of Evil” reminds me of a funny article that circulated not long after Bush’s speech on the subject. I found it on the ‘net, and on the principle that sometimes you just have to laugh at it all (beats crying over it all), I present it here for your enjoyment:


ANGERED BY SNUBBING, LIBYA, CHINA AND SYRIA FORM AXIS OF JUST AS EVIL
Cuba, Sudan, Serbia Form Axis of Somewhat Evil; Other Nations Start Own Clubs
Beijing (SatireWire.com) —

Bitter after being snubbed for membership in the "Axis of Evil," Libya, China, and Syria today announced they had formed the "Axis of Just as Evil," which they said would be way eviler than that stupid Iran-Iraq-North Korea axis President Bush warned of his State of the Union address.

Axis of Evil members, however, immediately dismissed the new axis as having, for starters, a really dumb name. "Right. They are Just as Evil... in their dreams!" declared North Korean leader Kim Jong-il. "Everybody knows we're the best evils... best at being evil... we're the best."

Diplomats from Syria denied they were jealous over being excluded, although they conceded they did ask if they could join the Axis of Evil.

"They told us it was full," said Syrian President Bashar al-Assad.

"An Axis can't have more than three countries," explained Iraqi President Saddam Hussein. "This is not my rule, it's tradition. In World War II you had Germany, Italy, and Japan in the evil Axis. So you can only have three. And a secret handshake. Ours is wicked cool."

THE AXIS PANDEMIC

International reaction to Bush's Axis of Evil declaration was swift, as within minutes, France surrendered.

Elsewhere, peer-conscious nations rushed to gain triumvirate status in what became a game of geopolitical chairs. Cuba, Sudan, and Serbia said they had formed the Axis of Somewhat Evil, forcing Somalia to join with Uganda and Myanmar in the Axis of Occasionally Evil, while Bulgaria, Indonesia and Russia established the Axis of Not So Much Evil Really As Just Generally Disagreeable.

With the criteria suddenly expanded and all the desirable clubs filling up, Sierra Leone, El Salvador, and Rwanda applied to be called the Axis of Countries That Aren't the Worst But Certainly Won't Be Asked to Host the Olympics; Canada, Mexico, and Australia formed the Axis of Nations That Are Actually Quite Nice But Secretly Have Nasty Thoughts About America, while Spain, Scotland, and New Zealand established the Axis of Countries That Sometimes Ask Sheep to Wear Lipstick.

"That's not a threat, really, just something we like to do," said Scottish Executive First Minister Jack McConnell.

While wondering if the other nations of the world weren't perhaps making fun of him, a cautious Bush granted approval for most axes, although he rejected the establishment of the Axis of Countries Whose Names End in "Guay," accusing one of its members of filing a false application. Officials from Paraguay, Uruguay, and Chadguay denied the charges.

Israel, meanwhile, insisted it didn't want to join any Axis, but privately, world leaders said that's only because no one asked them.

Copyright © 2002, SatireWire

Phia, a.k.a. Hammie, and her mom.

Life's exhausting when you're almost two.

What was that whooshing sound? Oh: the week going by.

My undergrad pal Olivia called me on Friday; her job in the Alumni Village infant-toddler care center affords her a view of my apartment.

“Did you move? I didn’t see your car all week.”

I groaned; “That’s because I was never home!”

The two courses I started last Monday are Critical Traditions and Film Pedagogy and they had me (and everyone else in them) running ragged all week – and will continue to do so, I have no doubt, for the remaining five weeks. Critical Traditions examines major critical thought in the western timeline from Plato and Aristotle through our time. Ouch. My brain hurts. In addition to writing a research paper applying one of the critical approaches we study to a novel, play or film, we have to teach a 60-minute class on a different theory; I drew Walter Benjamin’s “A Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction” which intrigued me when we touched on it in Modern Humanities.

Film Pedagogy prepares us to teach a junior-level course on American film in relation to culture. In addition to attending the two classes every day, we also find time to visit, as observers, four classrooms where the Film course is currently being taught, and watch a film most nights – for a total of 22 over the six weeks. Last week we saw High Noon, The Searchers, Napoleon Dynamite, and The Stepford Wives. On Tuesday I gave a report on the rise of the studio system, having gotten the assignment on Monday. (!) The course is also one big teaching lab – instead of lectures, each session is taken up with students reporting on chapters in the text, or assigned articles, or one of the films, or the classroom visitations.

There are 25 of us; a slight majority being new incoming master’s in humanities, a few current master’s, and a handful of doctoral students. I initially had little interest in taking this course or teaching the film course; but Dr. Crook, the professor (former classmate of Roger Ebert in Film Studies, has taught film for 30+ years,) pointed out that having this experience will definitely help us find jobs. Cultural values were disseminated (art-wise) largely through poetry in the 18th century and novels in the 19th century; in our times, film is the dominant medium; so being able to teach film is a definite plus, as is being comfortable with the technology of the “smart” classroom. My teaching experience – some of it in “smart” classrooms – is a real help to me here and for that I am grateful.

I spent the week wishing heartily that I knew as much about films as my brother Gordon and thinking what fun it would be if he were here taking the course with me. And I noticed yet again how delightful (to me, anyway) most Humanities students and teachers are. They have such enthusiasm, such intellectual curiosity and wonder, and just in general tend to be articulate, upbeat and well-balanced people who find the world a wonderful place – which really is no wonder after all, given the fascinating subjects they study.

Thank heaven for the three-day weekend – I’m about 6 articles behind at the moment and need to get a jump on next week’s readings.