I got this in my mailbox over the weekend, and I think it is definitely the most entertaining spam I've ever received:
I am working in a detective agency. I can't say my name. I want to warn you that i'm going to overhear your telephone line. Do you want to know who is the payer? Wait for my next letter.
P.S. I'm sure, you don't believe me. But i think that the attached record of your yesterday's telephone conversation will assure you that everything is real. The record is in archive. The password is 123qwe
I bet this guy is really successful. I mean, I have to admit that part of me is anxiously awaiting his next letter. Of course, I'm not too worried about what he might hear over my phone line. I recently gave up my lead-tainted dinner plate smuggling business, so I'm completely wholesome now. Even though I haven't read much detective fiction, I feel like the guy gets the voice just right here. The clipped sentences. The commands. I nearly had to restrain myself so I wouldn't click on that attachment.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
the dreaded day when brides acknowledge wedding gifts by e-mail
The title for this post is thanks to Newsweek's article on the much-discussed Vanderbilt study that found that the "majority of primary-school teachers believe that students with fluent handwriting" produced more and better writing. I haven't been able to track down Steve Graham's actual study (if anyone knows where to find it, let me know) but every summary I've seen of it includes that important distinction "believe"--which suggests perception more than the reality of some impending writing apocalypse. And if all the apocalypse brings is brides sending thank-you notes by email, then I think we can all rest easy.
I imagine that the study probably cast handwriting in terms of a larger discussion of writing fluency; obviously one's ability with writing technologies (whether a pen or a keyboard) are important. I composed a very elaborate post on this subject while laying in bed a few nights ago, but because I was too lazy to grab a pen most of those ideas have been lost. However, in yet another version of the Johnny can't write hysteria, reporters are emphasizing the importance of handwriting over all else. When the codex was introduced, writers lamented the loss of the scroll; when keyboarding becomes the norm, we lament the loss of handwriting. Will we ever learn that shifting writing technologies will signal the end of all thought and knowledge.
I think the most interesting aspect of the reported study, the part that deserves scrutiny is that teachers believe that good handwriting equals better writing. Perhaps we should focus on encouraging teachers to critique their assumptions? I had endless troubles with handwriting in school. I taught myself how to write before school (well, my version of writing anyway) so I held the pencil with my fist. I could write quickly, but my first grade teacher was worried I wouldn't be able to learn cursive, so she made me write with one of those rubber grips to learn the appropriate finger placement. In third grade, I can remember getting berated in for not being able to scribe perfectly slanted cursive r's. Luckily I was tenacious and kept writing, eventually giving up my flat-topped r's altogether for a print/ cursive hybrid. If my teacher had given me a little more flexibility with those r's, maybe I could have spent more time crafting my stories and poems. I'm not saying we should give up handwriting instruction, but couldn't we give kids who struggle with the process other options, like say keyboarding?
Several years ago, I would have thought the link between handwriting skill and composing fluency even more suspect, but through my work at the Literacy Action Center I have realized that there is some relation. I've been lectured in handwriting technique because some members of the writing group couldn't translate my letterforms. I've also brought in books that no one could read because the typefaces used weren't standard or tried to mimic handwriting. For the writers very early in their writing development, an "a" was a very specific thing and the tiniest of alterations led to confusion. However, if handwriting were made a key component to composing, if they had to first master their letterforms, these writers would never get anywhere.
So, we look for options for them. We transcripe stories that they dictate. Even if they aren't technically "writing" they are learning about content, structure, characterization, chronology--all the things that make writing writing. Many writers have also jumped immediately to keyboarding. One of the writers has severe cerebral palsy and can't even feed herself. She lived a life of desperately wanting to learn and no one teaching her because she didn't seem to have the capacity. She can't do any type of handwriting (other than being able to marginally sign her name), but she can write. She's an incredible storyteller. She began by dictating her stories and then typing up what she had dictated. In the process, she gained fairly solid keyboarding skills and now she is beginning to compose her stories directly on computer.
Rather than bemoaning the loss of handwriting skills, perhaps we should consider how to use new technologies so that teachers no longer believe that the students with good handwriting are the ones composing well.
I imagine that the study probably cast handwriting in terms of a larger discussion of writing fluency; obviously one's ability with writing technologies (whether a pen or a keyboard) are important. I composed a very elaborate post on this subject while laying in bed a few nights ago, but because I was too lazy to grab a pen most of those ideas have been lost. However, in yet another version of the Johnny can't write hysteria, reporters are emphasizing the importance of handwriting over all else. When the codex was introduced, writers lamented the loss of the scroll; when keyboarding becomes the norm, we lament the loss of handwriting. Will we ever learn that shifting writing technologies will signal the end of all thought and knowledge.
I think the most interesting aspect of the reported study, the part that deserves scrutiny is that teachers believe that good handwriting equals better writing. Perhaps we should focus on encouraging teachers to critique their assumptions? I had endless troubles with handwriting in school. I taught myself how to write before school (well, my version of writing anyway) so I held the pencil with my fist. I could write quickly, but my first grade teacher was worried I wouldn't be able to learn cursive, so she made me write with one of those rubber grips to learn the appropriate finger placement. In third grade, I can remember getting berated in for not being able to scribe perfectly slanted cursive r's. Luckily I was tenacious and kept writing, eventually giving up my flat-topped r's altogether for a print/ cursive hybrid. If my teacher had given me a little more flexibility with those r's, maybe I could have spent more time crafting my stories and poems. I'm not saying we should give up handwriting instruction, but couldn't we give kids who struggle with the process other options, like say keyboarding?
Several years ago, I would have thought the link between handwriting skill and composing fluency even more suspect, but through my work at the Literacy Action Center I have realized that there is some relation. I've been lectured in handwriting technique because some members of the writing group couldn't translate my letterforms. I've also brought in books that no one could read because the typefaces used weren't standard or tried to mimic handwriting. For the writers very early in their writing development, an "a" was a very specific thing and the tiniest of alterations led to confusion. However, if handwriting were made a key component to composing, if they had to first master their letterforms, these writers would never get anywhere.
So, we look for options for them. We transcripe stories that they dictate. Even if they aren't technically "writing" they are learning about content, structure, characterization, chronology--all the things that make writing writing. Many writers have also jumped immediately to keyboarding. One of the writers has severe cerebral palsy and can't even feed herself. She lived a life of desperately wanting to learn and no one teaching her because she didn't seem to have the capacity. She can't do any type of handwriting (other than being able to marginally sign her name), but she can write. She's an incredible storyteller. She began by dictating her stories and then typing up what she had dictated. In the process, she gained fairly solid keyboarding skills and now she is beginning to compose her stories directly on computer.
Rather than bemoaning the loss of handwriting skills, perhaps we should consider how to use new technologies so that teachers no longer believe that the students with good handwriting are the ones composing well.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
I am a doorknob
The other night, I was made my niece and nephew write a story with me. I was the scribe and I alternated between the two of them for sentences. I think it turned out pretty well. I think I might take this down to Cup of Joe's for the big poetry slam. I could kick some literary asses.
Untitled
I am a ninja turtle. I am really tough. I am a princess. I'm not really a ninja turtle but I always wanted to be one. I'm not really a princess, but I really want to be one. I am really nice and a really tough girl. Yesterday, I got a costume. I help people when they drop something--even if they don't ask me to I still help them. Help others. I will be really kindd to people. I am a bad guy. I am the bad queen. I am a door. I am a doorbell. I am a doorknob.
Untitled
I am a ninja turtle. I am really tough. I am a princess. I'm not really a ninja turtle but I always wanted to be one. I'm not really a princess, but I really want to be one. I am really nice and a really tough girl. Yesterday, I got a costume. I help people when they drop something--even if they don't ask me to I still help them. Help others. I will be really kindd to people. I am a bad guy. I am the bad queen. I am a door. I am a doorbell. I am a doorknob.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
7 fab, fresh things about me
This is my attempt to join the Nanoblopo? thing with all my slcc'ers. Hightouchmegastore tagged me to list seven things about myself. I'm supposed to pass it on, but I have to stop the madness! That and, as Middlebrow says, she already tagged pretty much everyone I know (seven people--that's a lot!) So here are the seven things you might not know about me:
1. I was born on Thanksgiving. My mom cooked the entire meal while in labor, then went to the hospital. I weighed 10 lbs, 11 oz. and everyone called me the Butterball. My birthday is on Thanksgiving again this year, so feel free to bake me a pie.
2. I don't have a middle name, so when I was little I gave myself one: Crazy Cat. It was also sometimes Crazy Cat Cookie--and a long, continually changing list of other things I liked. (although I should clarify that I don't like cats)
3. I love sugar, any kind. When I was little I ate half-eaten candy that I found on the street and mistakenly ate comet to get my sugar fix.
4. I once dj'd a radio show called "Lost in the Supermarket"; I only played 80's new wave and punk. I also think it would be a good idea to have a radio show that is all Jackson 5, all the time.
5. I came in second at my school spelling bee when I was in fifth grade--lost to my academic nemisis, no less. I don't think I've ever gotten over it. My word: "lichenafied."
6. Before deciding on my current career, I wanted to be a botanist, an astronomer, and a journalist. My decision to abandon each of those career options had to do with math. Now I am marrying a mathematician.
7. I am the seventh child and nearly every address I've lived at has had the number 7 in it.
1. I was born on Thanksgiving. My mom cooked the entire meal while in labor, then went to the hospital. I weighed 10 lbs, 11 oz. and everyone called me the Butterball. My birthday is on Thanksgiving again this year, so feel free to bake me a pie.
2. I don't have a middle name, so when I was little I gave myself one: Crazy Cat. It was also sometimes Crazy Cat Cookie--and a long, continually changing list of other things I liked. (although I should clarify that I don't like cats)
3. I love sugar, any kind. When I was little I ate half-eaten candy that I found on the street and mistakenly ate comet to get my sugar fix.
4. I once dj'd a radio show called "Lost in the Supermarket"; I only played 80's new wave and punk. I also think it would be a good idea to have a radio show that is all Jackson 5, all the time.
5. I came in second at my school spelling bee when I was in fifth grade--lost to my academic nemisis, no less. I don't think I've ever gotten over it. My word: "lichenafied."
6. Before deciding on my current career, I wanted to be a botanist, an astronomer, and a journalist. My decision to abandon each of those career options had to do with math. Now I am marrying a mathematician.
7. I am the seventh child and nearly every address I've lived at has had the number 7 in it.
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