Inside the Mind of a Pirate

The NYT interview with a pirate.

Q: Have the pirates been misunderstood?
A: ...We are simply patrolling our seas. Think of us like a coast guard.

Q: Why did you want to become a pirate?
A: We are patrolling our seas. This is a normal thing for people to do in their regions.

Things I would have asked:

When did you start having fantasies about being like a coast guard?
Do you have a need to be in control?
Do you ever think people are out to get you?
Do pictures of Errol Flynn make you think you're fat? Or that you need another pair of boots?
What pops into your mind when I say "booty"?
I sense some hostility. Are you feeling aggressive now?
I think we should terminate this session. When can I expect some of that $20 million?

When Men Become Tomboys

I'm into serious procrastination mode, if that's not already apparent. I'm almost done with the proposal, so I feel somewhat justified in having a little fun by posting here.

Before I go back to work, I thought I'd tell you about a funny little article from the Chicago Defender, perhaps the most prominent African American newspaper of the twentieth century. In 1951 it ran a story about two hometown baseball players, "Tomboys Minny, Nellie Show Muscle Men How," about Cuban-American outfielder Orestes Miñoso and white second baseman Nellie Fox. Here are some of the most intriguing passages.

Someone remarked to the sportswriter who shared a room with Orestes "Minny" Minoso, that Minny was his "old gal," as they say in boarding school.

"Yeah," the sportswriter answered dryly, "but he's sure a Tomboy."

Matter of fact, there are two Tomboys on Paul Richards' White Sox...

The other Tomboy is Nellie, sometimes known as Nelson Fox, Jacob Nelson Fox, and Little Nell.

These two have done pretty well by themselves in a man's game....

...Their combined batting average is .351, with Minny hitting .361, and Nellie batting .348. The team batting average is .292, which indicates the gals must be pretty good.

Oh my stars, I can scarcely begin to analyze this. In fact, I really can't—I must get back to writing. What do you think?

The Naked Diss

Because I've been preoccupied with such pressing matters as Nazi resistance and wondering what's so funny about Republicans, several faithful readers have wondered whether the proposal process is stalled. In a word, no. It's moving right along, and if my upstairs neighbors stop making so much fricking noise, the final draft will be done Monday. I do not yet have an outside reader, so I haven't scheduled a defense date. I got all three committee members to get me comments, and I'm trying to incorporate them as best as I can. Which, even though they have no major disagreements, is not as easy as it sounds. Two committee members want it front-loaded with anecdotes and citations; the third (who only got comments to me Wednesday) wants major chunks of the introduction moved to a later section. Guess which bloc wins?

So that's the story. Write, procrastinate, write, procrastinate.

Bald lady (above): Constance Towers, the hooker with a heart of gold in Sam Fuller's Naked Kiss (1964). No, I don't consider my dissertation a hooker. It's just feeling vulnerable and exposed, but it's still coming out swinging.

Look Deep Into My Eyes, Vladimir

If you're like me, you totally lost it when McCain said, "I looked into Putin's eyes and I saw three letters: KGB." I went to Youtube this morning to reprise this moment and I found this:



You can imagine how disappointed I am in Senator McCain. Here I thought this "KGB" stuff was completely off-the-cuff and memorably wacky. Turns out he's been telling this joke for over a year!

UPDATE:

Wait, there's more. In this one, from ten months ago, he waxes even more eloquent: "I looked into Mr. Putin's eyes and I saw three letters: a K, a G, and a B...I mean, duh!"



EVEN FURTHER UPDATE:

About a year ago, the Wall Street Journal caught McCain out for stealing the KGB laugh line from Colin Powell. Something tells me the way Powell told it, it was actually funny.

John McCain: the Robin Williams of politics?

SON OF UPDATE:

It's weird how this joke's morphed beyond Powell's original point, which was to criticize George W. Bush for his remark about looking into Putin's eyes and seeing his soul. McCain isn't using it to criticize the president's diplomatic naivete, he's using it to attack Obama and liberal foreign-policy realists. In the debate he didn't mention that the original soul-gazing was done by Bush; he implied that it was Obama's touchy-feely philosophy about dealing with the Axis of Evil. McCain's gotten sloppy with this joke. Now that he whipped it out in a nationally televised debate, perhaps he'll retire it permanently.

UPDATE VS. MOTHRA:

Colin Powell told this joke as early as October 10, 2006. As good a reason as any to endorse Obama.

Debate Questions I Hope Get Asked

Dear candidates,

Assuming the foreign policy debate goes on tomorrow, here are some questions I want answered.

• Was microcredit a good idea?
• Is the cold war really over?
• How many member countries will it take to satisfy NATO?
• Can we afford to alienate Russia if Iran poses such a huge nuclear threat?
• What to make of North Korea's revival of its nuclear program soon after rumors of Kim Jong-Il's death?
• Are we at war with Pakistan?
• Is Iraq a sovereign state?
• How can we continue to fight wars in Iraq and Afghanistan if American taxpayers are on the hook for $700 billion?

Thanks in advance for your direct, concise answers.

CheeseQuest

Project Wipeout

The Prada show in Milan this season was notable for a few reasons: the sumptuous snakeskin prints, the glamorous golds, and the heels so high they gave the models altitude sickness. Or so I've concluded having watched this video:



UPDATE, 29 September:

It was the booties' fault!

Thanks, Non-Hispanic Whites!

As sensitive as ever to trends that reflect the tough life of affluent white New Yorkers, today the Times published an article on how census figures show that "white flight" in New York has apparently reversed in the past few years. This, according to one expert quoted in the article, is "a harbinger of racial equilibrium."

Actually, the article is mostly about Hispanic immigration, which has leveled off (and in some places decreased) in recent years, possibly due to tougher immigration enforcement and a recession that's led to job losses. But the story is front-loaded with a certain racial subtext: We're baaaaaaack.

That's right, the population of "non-Hispanic whites" in New York has actually increased for the past several years. What we don't get from the story is a sense of who these NHWs are. But my guess is that they're what John McCain would describe as "middle class."

One also has to wonder about "racial equilibrium." It sounds so nice—like another word for tolerance and mutual respect. But this is not really the case, is it? How much ass are these NHWs ready to kick in the name of maintaining "racial equilibrium"?

The image above was a parody magazine cover created by the wizards at Stay Free! magazine. It's now defunct, but I'm told there is an anthology in the works.

Higher Ed: Future Shock?

I've been watching a lot of cable news lately—the election and all. But the big news the past few days is, of course, the financial crisis. I'm wondering how it will affect me. Luckily, I'm a moron when it comes to financial instruments, so I keep all my money in my mattress. Not really—it's in a low-yield savings account that's FDIC-insured. (Thanks, big government!) I'll be just fine, thanks. For now. But in ten years....?

What does the financial crisis mean for higher education, and for those of us who will hopefully finish our dissertations within the next few years? I really have no idea. Like I said, I'm a moron about the "finance." But I don't think it looks good.

First of all, consider the importance of credit to students and their parents. Something like three fourths of Cheeseville U. students are on some kind of financial aid; 57 percent have student loans. I don't have statistics on parents taking out home equity loans, but I'm sure that's pretty high, as tuition at Cheeseville has gone up and up and up, as it has at institutions all over the country. Of course, Ben Bernancke et al. are on the case* so that we can still have access to credit. But seriously? Will kids and their parents be able to afford higher education in a few years? Fewer students means fewer undermotivated butts in the lecture halls.

Demographics are against us too. There are going to be fewer students now that the children of the baby boomers are graduating. Employment in higher education was probably going to contract anyway, but if fewer students and their families can afford college, will we also be looking at declining salaries?

The other thing you have to wonder about is the investment portfolios that universities have been building up. Here is another thing I know nothing about. But don't you just wonder what universities have been investing in all these years? Have they been buying these crappy mortgages? Hmmm, I hope no hedge funds. Weaker endowments could mean higher tuition, hence fewer students, hence other bad things. Bad for us.

Finally, this post will end with the hand-wringing that no discussion of academe is complete without, and that's the erosion of tenure and the elimination of tenure-track jobs. Why create a line when the university is in straitened circumstances? Frankly, I'm also afraid that adjunct positions will be eliminated.

Am I Chicken Little?




*I'm being facetious. They're on the case on behalf of the big guys. See Kathy G's awesome posts over at the G Spot, especially this one.

Subject: Humans

The archive I am salivating over has thrown a roadblock in my path. It seems I need approval from an internal review committee to conduct research on human subjects. They sent me this eight-page application. What are your research protocols, CheeseQuest? Are you coding the results? Please list all of your coauthors. 

Whaaaa? I'm a humanist, which means I study humans, which means humans are already my subjects...maybe? To me, Protocol was a career-defining moment for Goldie Hawn. "Coding" (a.k.a. data entry) is scut work I used to do for law firms. And coauthors? Are you serious?

I remembered a grant-writing workshop I took. Some of those social-science types were talking about something called the IRB, which had to do with research on human subjects. So I googled them, and there is a kind of certification you can get from Cheeseville U. that says you're competent to do this kind of research. But I don't know whether it applies to me. They give examples of projects that need IRB approval and ones that don't. One of the examples they give of a project that does NOT need this certification is getting your co-investigators to bungee-jump off a bridge to measure how far they snap back. 

I'm a humanist, dammit! All I want is a few lively quotes to back up the anecdotes I tell at the beginning of each chapter, which the historical profession has decided it cannot live without. I'm not using any names or correct initials. It's just a history dissertation no one except my mother, my committee members, and hopefully some search committees will read.

Maybe I will go back to my original dissertation topic—a history of bungee jumping. No human-subject approval necessary! Wheeeee!

Do you know who I AM?

I handed in the first draft of my prospectus about two weeks ago, knowing I'd have to revise it after my committee members read it. I pictured this whole process taking about two weeks. Silly CheeseQuest! My adviser has read it and given me comments. Thanks, adviser! But where are your colleagues? Don't they realize how important the CheeseQuest dissertation is going to be? Why are they dragging their heels?

I feel kind of like the sister of my friend M. M's sister was a dancer in Martha Graham's company, back when Martha Graham was alive and had a company. M and her sister are African American. One day, M's sister was at a grand old department store makeup counter, and (oddly enough!) was not getting any attention from the salesperson. Finally she caught her eye. "Do you know who I AM?" M's sister thundered. "I'm Martha Graham!!!" M's sister then got immediate, obsequious service, although it's not clear whether the salesperson thought M's sister really was Martha Graham or whether she thought she was just so crazy that she needed to be served immediately so as to get her out of the store as quickly as possible.

I am not (as far as I know) African American, but I feel like cornering those members of my committee and saying, "Do you know who I AM? I'm Martha Graham!!!" Maybe that will make them work faster. Or maybe they will think I'm crazy and give me a token M.A. to get me out of the program.

Hatred on the Bridge

I can't believe I walked past them for over a year without noticing them.

There are at least four swastikas on the bridge between Cheeseville and Winetown. (I was going to post photos of them, but I don't want any white supremacist types downloading them and posting them on their own sites.) They are small and a little hard to see. Three of them are on the less-traversed side of the bridge. But there they are. 

And if I have any say in the matter, they will soon be gone. 

CheeseQuest is on the case. Watch this space for further developments.