Friday, November 24, 2006

hey, that new james bond is really good

uh, I mean hot. I don't really like beefy guys with chiseled features, but there's something about this new Bond. Even the boyfriend has a man crush.

I don't particularly like James Bond movies, but there's something about this new one that I really like. Maybe it's that he's not so slick and polished (in the Bond, James Bond way). There's a beautiful moment where he orders a martini; the bartender asks him whether he wants it shaken or stirred and he replies, "Do I look like I give a damn?" It was refreshing seeing Bond not quite so Bond.

Of course, if they make more movies with this guy, he's going to have to become Bond of the shaken martini, and I think I'll like him much less.

Oh well, it's a good flick. I still haven't figured out why, but it's good. Really. Go see it.

Monday, November 20, 2006

stop that blathering

You know how it is. You read your students' papers and you just want to fill up the margins with big red letters asking, "What the fuck?!" You hold back--you don't want to be that mean. But you're certain that they didn't try at all, that they haven't been listening or reading or caring. You try to look for the effort in the work, but you are pretty sure it's all just a lot of blather.


I've had this experience way too many times this semester. Then, the other night, I ran across an old college paper, from my later Brit survey. It was about Hopkins--God's Grandeur, Binsey Poplars, inscape, instress. It was just a short paper, 3 pages. I got a bad grade on it, a big old B-. And my teacher's comments were mean. He told me that I was just using words to impress, without thinking about what they mean. He said that the ideas didn't seem considered at all, just a bunch of blather. He actually said "blather." I remember writing this paper. I was really excited about my idea (I loved Hopkins) and I couldn't exactly work it out. But I tried. I actually wanted to work out my thoughts. I also remember being very disappointed with my teacher's comments (mean old Dr. Best); I was less concerned about the grade then the complete dismissal of my thoughts and efforts.

So now I'm thinking that I'm turning into the mean old teacher and maybe I need to remember that just because my students don't get it exactly right doesn't mean that they aren't trying or thinking. It's a bit eye-opening. I think maybe I should read those Dr. Best comments before every batch of grading, just to keep perspective.


Side note that may or may not ruin my epiphany: today a student who has been a complete slacker--he submitted a lame review of The Fast and the Furious when he was supposed to do Critical Discourse Analysis--gave me a draft of his final project. Apparently his IQ has gone up about 100 points in the last week. Totally plagiarized. This is a new one for me--submitting a plagiarized draft (and I didn't even ask them for one).

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

gloomy democracy

During the fall of my senior year of high school, I went out with a couple of friends to steal campaign signs. We gathered them up from various corners around town, stacked them up in the back of the car, and delivered them all to the front lawn of a boy one of us (or all of us) liked. At the time, we thought that our actions were both a) rebellious and b) meaningful. Oh and we also thought we were funny. How wrong we were on all accounts.

So now it's fall again, election time again, and I am older. Today, I drove past dozens of campaign signs. I didn't steal any of them, but I did sort of want to pull down all of the ones for Mr. Orrin (because really wouldn't the world be better off if he could just dedicate all of his time to his music?) I went to my polling station at the Parklane Senior Apartments. I used the fancy new voting machine and made all of my choices; I opted not to do the easy straight ticket option because for some reason I like the act of selecting each candidate. I am more of a citizen than I was back in high school, stealing campaign signs. I can vote; I make choices based on research, thoughtful consideration, and firm hope for change. But I am not certain that my act now is any more meaningful than stealing campaign signs was back in high school. I will watch election returns tonight and I will see that most of what I voted for, hoped for will not go my way. I may get one or two nods that my opinion matters. But most likely, I will have to wait another two years, biting my lip, hoping for change.