Cheney Don't Shiv...

Cheney balls nasty.

Thank goodness VP Cheney doesn't have to worry about the last throes of the Iraqi insurgency while visiting Afghanistan. I mean, Afghanistan's all cleared up now, right?

(Thank you, Frank Miller, for providing obscure reference after obscure reference.)

Coulrophobia Implies Fear

According to Reuters, two circus clowns were shot and killed in Bogataby an unidentified gunman. The local plice chief was sure to point out, however, that "the killings had nothing to do with the show the victims were performing at the time of the incident."

As if it would have been perfectly fine to have shot them during a particularly bad performance.

Back to the Freaky Deaky Posts

My dad's younger brother had a grand mal seizure while at work last week. My uncle works for the telephone company in northern Virginia, so when I say "at work," I mean while driving a company truck through the Shenandoah Mountains. His truck went off the road, but it was so late that he didn't hit anyone. There was another truck following him that radioed for medical attention. He got pretty banged up, but not too seriously. Far more serious were the multiple grand mal seizures he suffered at the hospital. He hadn't eaten all day, so was it low blood sugar combined with a family history of diabetes? He hadn't had a drink in more than 24 hours, so was it an Irish-American's withdrawal? No answers yet on that front, so here's the freaky deaky part:

While he was seizing, Jeff said at one point that everything went white and glittery. He felt a rushing sensation (movement?) and saw his mother (my grandmother) and Maxine (the lady next door who was, for all intents and purposes, a second mother). They were saying something that he couldn't quite understand. More rushing sensation, and he was back on the table, coming out of the seizure.

Bullshit? He'd seen one too many "In Search Of..." episodes? If anyone else had told me that story, I'd say exactly that, but this is Uncle Jeff. Of all my family, he has always been acutely attuned to the metaphysical, though I doubt he'd ever call it that. I share many of his beliefs on the spirit world, though it has been so long since I've felt or seen anything that I'm starting to have my doubts.

That's not true; I got jacked with while I was sleeping in the officers' quarters at Fort Richardson. It's an old Indian Wars post in Jacksboro, Texas; it is rumored to be haunted. I was asleep on my bed, on top of the covers with my feet hanging off the end. I heard my roomie come in drunk and collapse on his bed on the other side of the room. I was just about to drift back off when I felt someone tickle my feet. I jumped up, pissed as all get out at being rudely awakened twice, snapped on a flashlight and shone it into the face of the other guy across the room, under the covers, drunkenly fast asleep.

Anyway, cliche as my uncle's story sounds, I believe him. If nothing else, it does give one pause.

And now a word about Elitism...

I like to call a spade a spade, so I would like to make the following disclaimers regarding Elitism and Education:

• If public education is good enough for others but not your own kind, that's elitism.
• I will send my kids to the best institutions of learning that I can.
• If I have to take a money shot of man-jam from someone's tumid, uncircumcised cock in order to send my kids to the best institutions of learning, I will pack breath mints.
• If public schools in Dallas fail to offer my kids the best educational opportunity possible (which will be likely in the case of middle school), then I will send my kids to a private school until such time as public schools offer the best educational opportunity. Is this elitist? You bet your sweet ass it is, and when Hadley and Dash are in middle school, I will not be a public school fan, but at least I'm willing to admit it.
  

Am I an elitist? Yup. And I know who the good teachers are in Dallas public schools. And I will move to make sure my kids go there. And I will sleep well at night with no guilt whatsoever.

And for the record, Gina, I sincerely wish you, your kids, and your company the very best. The world (and public schools in particular) need more people like you who want to do the right thing, even if they are nimbys.

Not in My Back Yard

So in response to the last post here, a very kind-hearted person named Gina opened her response with this:

"I'm a fan of public schools, but I don't want to send my kids there."

Doesn't "fan" imply favoritism? How can one be a fan of something without participating? Granted, hockey fans don't necessarily play hockey, baseball fans rarely play anything more strenuous than softball, and NASCAR fans do occasionally turn right, but those aren't the same thing. It's more like:

• I'm not racist; I own a color tv.
• I fully support the war in Iraq as long as there is no draft.
• Heck, yeah, I support gay marriage as long as both chicks are hot.
• I'm pro-Choice, especially since I'm male and will never actually have to make a choice.

How can anyone be a "fan" and not take part in the proceedings? Yes, I realize that you can support gay marriage without actually taking part in a gay marriage, but how can you say "I fully endorse public education even though it's not good enough for my own kids?"

In Gina's defense, she does volunteer her support public education by volunteering lesson plans on her website, but that's like saying, "Gee, I really like what you've done with your house. Here's what you should have done." I'm fortunate enough to teach in a public school where the reasonably affluent send their kids to learn right alongside the low socio-economic kids. If you really want to support your public school, send your kids to that public school, not some white-flight enclave.

And by no means should you home school. There's no better way to totally fuck up your kid socially than home schooling, excpept possibly for incest. Why does it seem like the unfortunate majority of people who home school their kids are the people that "don't play well with others?" People ask me if I have any intent to home school my children. After all, they say, you and your wife are so highly educated. Hey, guess what, we're highly educated BECAUSE we interacted with, how you say, 'hoo-mons.' And before you ask me where I get off making such broad, sweeping assertions, allow me to add that every year, when we give the TAKS (state exams) and when we offer to proctor the College Board exams, we have a group of home-schoolers show up who, to a person, all seem to possess less social skills combined than Long Duc Dong in "Sixteen Candles."

What offends me more than anything about the commentary is that clicking on Gina's name will take you to her minimalist blog, which directs you to her company's website. That's right, her thoughtful commentary is a shill for Creator Kids. I have no experience with those products; heck, they might be wonderful, but spam is spam, and that's just fucking annoying.

So Gina: No, I don't believe you are a true fan of public schools. I believe you are, at best, a fair weather friend and a nimby.

No Teacher Left Behind

This is from an email sent from the area supervisor to my principal who then forwarded it to every teacher at my school:

"Superior Leaders:
As you reflect on how you support engagement with learning through talk during the 3 Cs key roles (Collaborate, Classroom Visits and Coaching), what measurable goals do you see to determine the effectiveness of your leadership in teacher behavior change?"

I have no fucking clue what this says. I mean, I'm not illiterate; I can read the individual words, but "'Twas brillig and the slithy toves/Did gyre and gimble in the wabe" makes more sense to me than this horseshit. Furthermore, why did my principal send it to all of us? Isn't this a message to the campus leader? My area supervisor and principal are nice people, and they are intelligent, but their communications are not intelligible.

This is why public schools suck. While I'm at it: I've said it before, so I'll say it again, No Child Left Behind is sleight of hand on the Bush Administration's part to make all public schools so bad that vouchers will seem like a good idea.

What's that? Vouchers were the sainted Milton Friedman's idea? Yeah? Well fuck him and his economic policies. He's dead and I'm competing with gang recruiters for attention. NCLB mandates that the only people who can switch schools to a "good" school are the worst students, or, in other words, the ones that made their home schools "bad" schools. So, we set an unrealistic goal ("All" kids will go to college, even the ones who have no desire to do so), then we set unrealistic passing scores ("Every" kid will pass a state test, even the illegal alien retards), and then we only fund the failing schools so that the passing schools can't afford to keep up with the massive influx of dumbshits, and to top it all off, we will federally mandate that passing schools MUST take the dumbshits. So yeah, fuck Milton Friedman's corpse or pile of ashes, whichever he opted for.

(Sorry for the bitterness. I'm not drunk, though that would have probably been my excuse about ten years ago. My friend and co-worker, Joe Paradis, died this morning of cancer. He was a couple of years from retirement, and I didn't get a chance to say good-bye. Joe liked a good conspiracy theory as much as the next English teacher, so this rant's for him. If nothing else, there aren't memos in Heaven.)

I Sincerely Hope W's Xmas Sucks

In an exceptionally convenient move, the White House has announced that it will wait until after the holidays to announce any new approach to the Iraq War. The AP coverage can be found here among other sites:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16173078/

Please, Mr. President, tell that to the Marines. No, really, tell the Marines and every other serviceman and woman over there right now that you want to mull it around for a bit over the Christmas break. You see, you're the decider, so you tell them that the holidays are such a hectic time what with shopping and Chrismahannukwanzukka and Festivus parties and all that you need some time to make up your mind.

You see, these policy decisions are tough. They're hard to make. They're what you call "hard decisions," and the holidays are more of a get-together-with-friends-and-family time than a do-my-job-so-fewer-American-soldiers-lose-their-lives time. You've decided, decider, to take your sweet time, so take it. Shucks, you've got plenty of time; a whole lot can happen in two years. Besides, it's not like anything you decide today is going to get them home any quicker. That would require admitting that you may have made an error in prior decision-making situations; furthermore, it would require quick, decisive measures on your part, and
quite frankly, sir, you've more than proven that you're able to make one or the other but not both.

So Merry Christmas, Mr. President. I sincerely hope that the coal you receive in your stocking will keep your cold, grinchy heart warm enough to keep track of every American casualty you rack up between now and when you finally get off your draft-dodging duff to decide.

May God continue to bless America, and have mercy on your soul.