amkean pronunciation

I've been in a little bit of a good mood lately because the weather has been a little above the average for the season for the first time in a while, and I've been writing and running a tiny bit. School is going well, too, the occasional student complaint notwithstanding.

CHG's mom and brother got here Thursday, right after Rasheed Wallace (the cat) somehow injured his paws. He's now on pain meds and antibiotics to see if that helps before having to do an examination under sedation.

I got CHG through Pet Haven, and we supported them by going to their Fall Benefit Saturday night. With my new job and tax bracket, I'm now the type of person who attends benefits. We got caught up in the silent auction. There were a lot of items for low starting bids, and not enough people bidding for all the items, so I got a couple things for minimum bid. There was a pet fashion show with adorable animals, but the photos aren't online yet.

I just finished Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer: A Road Trip into the Heart of Fan Mania. Bob read this one and told me about it, and the thesis dovetails nicely with my thoughts about being a sports fan, which are "why would you set yourself up for almost certain heartbreak by loving a team whose success you really have next to no responsibility for?" I'm not sure that this question was answered completely. Because of the rush when they win is part of it.

It wasn't a bad book, and I enjoyed reading it, but it wasn't fantastic. The humor wasn't that funny (but it wasn't terrible either). The author, who is apparently older than I am but has a picture making him look like he just left college, is/was a reporter for the New York Times and writes for the New Yorker. This makes it all the more distracting when he uses phrases like "empirical" and "cognitive dissonance" without seeming to understand exactly what they mean. Their uses are in the ballpark. He writes about the "cognitive dissonance" of hardcore followers of the Crimson Tide who refuse to camp in Auburn but won't stay home because they are RVers. So it's in the ballpark of cognitive dissonance, but it sounds a little more like a Catch-22 (but not completely, either). Cognitive dissonance would be what a hardcore racist Alabama fanatic would experience seeing a bunch of black players responsible for an Alabama championship.

He also uses the term "empirical" when he's comparing the standard the team faces of being better than their opponent versus holding the team to the standard of the Bear Bryant teams of yore. He says the first is "relative" while the second is "empirical." In testing, they would be norm-referenced vs. criterion-referenced. I'm not sure that "empirical" has anything to do with the concept he's describing.

When I started reading the book, it made me want to buy an RV and follow the Gophers or Heels, but then I got kind of tired of the idea. It would be fun for a couple weekends, but I don't need another focus in my life. Although I've probably done the same thing at times, the author's emotional and self-aware irrational support of Bama got annoying.

I've got to get to work writing. Behind from computer problems.

Labels: ireadabook, nitpicking

The first thing I noticed about this sign was the terrible graphic design in the typesetting. I believe there are three names listed there, but you have to work at it to figure that out.

The second thing? What's the term for completely undercutting your message by the way you're presenting your message? I don't think it's "ironic" that the New Dignity Party is demanding dignity on their sign in about the most undignified way you could while still being tasteful ("three year old having a tantrum" is what comes to mind), but I don't know the phrase to describe it although there must be one. English majors?

People get to this blog by searching for some weird stuff. Lots of pronunciations, as you might expect. Lando (LAN-doh) Calrissian (kal-RISS-ee-un)

In lieu of writing, I finished Playing the Enemy: Nelson Mandela and the Game That Made a Nation by John Carlin. This is billed as the story of South Africa's underdog 1995 Rugby World Cup victory, which Nelson Mandela leveraged to bring the country, black and white, together and everyone lived in racial harmony from then on.

A couple things wrong with that, but first, I did like the book. Well written. As an amateur critic, I'll just say it's well written, and then you'll trust me that it is so I can talk about what I want to talk about.

First thing wrong: the actual rugby part starts maybe 2/3rds of the way through the book. The first 2/3rds is all about Nelson Mandela's background vis a vis apartheid.

Not that there's anything wrong with this, except that somehow I thought the book would focus mostly on the story surrounding the rugby world cup. It was interesting to hear about Mandela's time on Robben Island, which I may have visited had I read this book before I went to Cape Town.

True to the author's description, you could look at this book for lessons on how to win friends and influence people. Nelson Mandela is a master at this. The book is fairly descriptive on some of his techniques at winning the opposition to his side, described in the context of his meetings with opposition leadership. All of you reading this are probably already masters at interpersonal communication, but I listened carefully.

I thought Nelson Mandela was pretty cool before I read this, but know I know specifics, which make him cooler.

The actual rugby story itself ought to be made into a movie, it's so good. It's like the 1980 USA ice hockey team (except less so) combined with Abraham Lincoln uniting a divided nation. The story also validates my purchase of the Springbok hoodie, which I did while completely ignorant of the way Mandela used the Springbok team to bring the nation together. It also validated my gut concern that often rugby is seen as a sport for white people to be fans of.

When I was in 9th grade English class, we had to write a research paper on any topic we wanted. So open ended! Such an opportunity for creativity! I chose to write about apartheid. This was in 1989-1990 when apartheid was still going strong, at least to outsiders. Being a good Lutheran, I couldn't believe that I wasn't hearing about this issue in church and decided it was my mission to help with this fight. I didn't do a lot with the fight church-wise, but Kleven used my paper as an example for future students, so I helped to end apartheid I guess.

And how did I, a 15 year old kid in Minnesota, get so concerned about apartheid? The answer is Starfire. Starfire was a superhero who took on apartheid in a couple comics that came out when I was about 12. This is always the example I think of when I think about how reading comics was beneficial. I read that 2-comic series, and somehow it really connected with me, so I wrote the paper.

Having visited South Africa briefly, I don't think the nation followed the soaring trajectory of the rise of the Springboks through the rugby world cup. I think it's a far more violent country than any other in Southern Africa, and my (naive) theory is that that's a lingering effect from apartheid. I don't think the violence in South Africa is disputed. A man threatened me with an unseen knife in the short time I was there because I wouldn't give him money when he asked. The rugby win didn't provide housing for all the people in the townships. It didn't provide jobs or improve schools. Of course it didn't erase history.

I like that I can get a book like this, about rugby in South Africa, to pick up at a library less than a mile from my house.

(Also, the violence there isn't a reason not to go. Just be smart and don't go walking through the city streets at night which is where I had my encounter.)

Labels: africa, ireadabook

Two mornings ago, I was reading Consumer Reports, as is my wont, and I came across an article on computers. I bought the MacBook Pro on which I'm currently writing just a couple months ago, and I was gratified to find it at the top of the list for its category. They also had a category for service, and Apple is at the top. "That's nice," I thought, thinking about what little service I needed in my history of Mac use. Twelve hours later, my hard drive died. Less than 24 hours after that, and within 12 hours of when I first called Apple, I had a new hard drive in my computer. I live in a fairly big city with multiple Apple stores, so the person on the phone ("Carol") set an appointment for me at the (ahem) Genius Bar at one Apple store. Once I got there, they didn't have the right part, so I asked if I could go to a different store. Sure, Mall of America has it. I brought my computer to Mall of America, and they had the hard drive replaced in 90 minutes.

I don't have a backup of my computer on site because of the new Firewire port, so I'm still in the process of restoring files. I think I'll only lose about 1000 words of Nanowrimo 2009, although I haven't written since the crash.

Noveling...I'll keep the writing blog updated as time warrants.

I played 3 minute TMGB science music videos for my kids last Friday. Sample responses: "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" "THIS IS GAY!!!" "WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO LEARN FROM THAT?" "THERE'S TOO MUCH MUSIC"

Then I played a 20 minute traditional old school video on Ferrous Metals where they learned what percent chromium content is in different steels, and I gave them trivial questions to keep them focused. No complaints, only compliance.

They are trained by the time they get to high school.

Labels: school

I've been thinking and writing about how music is awesome. It's what makes Glee magical. It's really good for learning new things. It helps when you're running. But not all music is good.

While I love the harmonies, countermelodies, and backup parts brought to prominence in the arrangements done in Glee, I cannot listen to pop a cappella groups. UNC had three. I don't deny that some of the songs are done really well, and hearing someone nail some vocals is thrilling. It took me a while to figure it out, but the thing that really bugs me about the a cappella I hate is the vocal percussion. When an ensemble attempts to imitate a drum set, I want to stick chopsticks into my ears. College a capella groups are too cute by far. Concentrate on the singing and do that well.

At the church I grew up in, they introduced the handbell choir. If you're not familiar, there are a bunch of chimes shaped like bells, one for each note you'd need, and a group wearing gloves rings them to make a song. There are lots of clips on youtube. Now critical thinking has never been the strong suit in my multiple intelligences, but I remember thinking how stupid a handbell choir was. First of all, it's expensive. Second, the gloves. Third, legitimate musical instruments, including voice, require technique. If a 6 year old can make the exact same sound out of an instrument as someone who's practiced for years, that person has practiced the wrong thing. Handbell choir is the Guitar Hero of uptight religious music.

While I'm on the topic of music, if you've got a social networking profile, the one thing you can do that's worse than showing off your indie cred is to say "I like all music except country and rap." Oh, you do?