Rotting on the Vine

They asked me where poems hide.

Standing out on my back porch
(generous name for a slab of concrete
surrounded by the summer's overgrown garden
rotten tomatoes wrapped in weeds)

listening to music
through earbuds that enjoy bungee-jumping out of my ears

smoking the pipe I bought
because it looks like the one Grandpa smoked

and sometimes a fragment of a lyric sticks awkwardly

or some small frustration of the day
an irritant like sand under a contact lens
is coated like a pearl with the bile of a dog-eared thesaurus

and poems come out of the fetid earth.

Marriage is great.

My wife, Paige, just told me I need to go to the store to pick something up for her. She can't go because

A) She's in her pajamas.

B) She's not wearing make-up.

For the record

A) I am in my pajamas.

B) I am not wearing make-up.

But I am going to change clothes and go to the store.

In the eternal contest of who-loves-whom-more, I just want it noted that I am winning tonight.

(Sure, she bore my child and all, but I am willing to defy my own sense of logical consistency for her benefit, so... um...)

Obama stole my joke!

Barack Obama stole the joke from my last post! (Okay, to be fair, I can't possibly be the first person to make that Obama-fathered-two-African-American-children-in-wedlock joke. But I'm probably in the first million, and I'll bet there will be a couple million more in the next eight years, so I'm still ahead of the curve.) Enjoy this great video, and enjoy McCain's part, also. It's first, chronologically, so I'll put it first, and I have to give him credit, because he's really funny, too. Why can't we see more of this side of both candidates? Probably because we'd be forced to choose between President Dave Chapelle and President Larry the Cable Guy.

Enjoy this tiny taste of civil interaction between these candidates because, if you're like me, by the middle of next week you'll be curled up in front of your television chewing on aspirin and praying for a quick death.



And now, soon-to-be-President Obama stealing an already tired joke from some schmuck out in Oregon:



Maybe there's hope for this country yet.

But probably not.

Don't Panic?

After sending the following queries to my two best friends, I thought I'd share them with the world, not, Bill, because I think anyone in particular is reading this, but because I want my reaction noted for posterity. If we quickly devolve to hunter/gatherers, just before I get trampled by a giant herd of buffalo, I want to be able to smile and think, "I toldja' so."

Tonight, before heading off to Open House at school, I watched the tail end of the local news, all of the national news, and the beginning of the local news again. I heard/read the words "Don't Panic" at least four times. Just now, it's fully sinking in. How often does one hear that phrase on the news? How often is panic an entirely appropriate response? Could the answers to those two questions be identical?

As a person who owns a whopping zero shares of stock, I will be paying attention to how the Dow does tomorrow.

Is it wrong to fantasize about a complete collapse of the global economy? How often should one participate in such fantasies? Is it the same answer?

The Age for Bad Poetry

"I took a poetry class in college
And the most important thing I learned
Is that I'm no poet."
I've told the story
Wink and smile
So many times
Branding like the soda I drink
The car I drive
The music on my ipod
The ipod
The ipod

ipoet

But here we are.
This is the age for bad poets.
The culture spins down the drain
To the beat of arrhythmic verse
Cliché
Douchebaggery
Holds every office
Levers of power
Pulled into uneven lines.
T.S.Elliot slouches toward the poetry slam.
William Blake dreams apocalyptic visions
Of talking heads debating economic band aids
While we burn and burn
And reach up out of the flames
To tap the keys
Paperless in the heat.
Not protest tunes, but jingles.
Not novels, but fabricated memoirs.
Art produced for uncollateralized credit.
This is not the age for great poetry.
This is the time to widen our eyes
Take in the civilization's decay
Spread it amongst ourselves.
This is not poetry.
This is how the world ends.
Digital chlamydia.

Nice Pants

"Nice pants,"
The fourteen-year-old told me,
And I suddenly found myself
Fixed in my era
Like a mosquito in amber
My belly full of the blueprints for dinosaurs.
My age is divined by a forked branch from some mystical tree
Pointing back to an add campaign
Twenty years ago
The woman stops the car to tell the hitchhiker
"Nice pants,"
But now she's shrunk
Mutated
Diminished
To this two-bit punk kid
Proud gang member
Late to class each day
Facial muscles slack with an affected apathy
Masking a real stupidity
He'd give his soul away for a compliment
From a super model
Or the tougher kid on his street
Or a misinterpreted rap lyric
He's the most cynical advertiser's wet dream.

But I'm also standing in the cement of the global economy
Hot lava meltdown revealing nothing but gas bubbles
Borders as invisible as credit
Cultures pushed into the bedrock
By liquidity, liquidity, liquidity
And I can't help but think,
In England
"Nice pants"
Refers to underwear.

And then I'm back in America
At the tail end of one of the world's least glorious empires
All empty shell casings and disco music
Stuffed with incendiary sarcasm
Made more deadly by it's lack of cleverness
As much beauty and truth as the plaque I brush off my teeth
While I look in the mirror
Too tired to teach tomorrow
But I'll go
Wearing different pants.

A Rant about Taxation

Someone on a list serve sent me the following email, asking how to respond to a Republican friend who preaches lower taxes for the wealthy. The forward got my blood boiling, so I weighed in, and I thought I’d share the original forward and my response here.

Here’s the original forward:


“TAX CUTS EXPLAINED:
Because it's the election season, let's put tax cuts in terms everyone can understand. [Way to start out with condescension from the get-go, eh?]

Suppose that every day, ten men go out for beer and the bill for all ten comes to $100. If they paid their bill the way we pay our taxes, it would go something like this:

The first four men (the poorest) would pay nothing.
The fifth man would pay $1.
The sixth man would pay $3.
The seventh would pay $7.
The eighth would pay $12.
The ninth would pay $18.
The tenth man (the richest) would pay $59.

So, that's what they decided to do.
The ten men drank in the bar every day and seemed quite happy with the arrangement until one day the owner threw them a curved ball (or is that a curved beer!).
'Because you are all such good customers,' he said, 'I'm going to reduce the cost of your daily beer by $20.'

Drinks for the ten now cost just $80.

The group still wanted to pay their bill the way we pay our taxes so the first four men were unaffected. They would still drink for free. But what about the other six men ??[sic] the paying customers? How could they divide the $20 windfall so that everyone would get his 'fair share?'

They realized that $20 divided by six is $3.33. But if they subtracted that from everybody's share, then the fifth man and the sixth man would each end up being paid to
drink his beer.

So, the bar owner suggested that it would be fair to reduce each man's bill b y roughly the same amount, and he proceeded to work out the amounts each should pay. And so:

The fifth man, like the first four, now paid nothing (100% savings).
The sixth man now paid $2 instead of $3 (33% savings).
The seventh man now paid $5 instead of $7 (28% savings).
The eighth now paid $9 instead of $12 (25% savings).
The ninth now paid $14 instead of $18 (22% savings).
The tenth now paid $49 instead of $59 (16% savings).

Each of the six was better off than before. And the first four continued to drink for free. But once outside the restaurant the men began to compare their savings.

'I only got a dollar out of the $20,' declared the sixth man. He pointed to the tenth man, 'but he got $10!'

'Yeah, that's right,' exclaimed the fifth man. 'I only saved a dollar too. It's unfair that he got ten times more than me!'

'That's true!!' shouted the seventh man.

'Why should he get $10 back when I got only two? The wealthy get all the breaks!'

'Wait a minute,' yelled the first four men in unison. 'We didn't get anything at all. The
system exploits the poor!'


The nine men surrounded the tenth man and beat him up.

The next night the tenth man didn't show up for drinks, so the nine sat down and had beers without him. But when it came time to pay the bill, they discovered something
important. They didn't have enough money between all of them for even half of the bill!

And that, boys and girls, journalists and college professors, is how our Tax System works. The people who pay the highest taxes get the most benefit from a tax reduction. Tax them too much, attack them for being wealthy and they just may not sho w up anymore. In fact, they might start drinking overseas where the atmosphere is somewhat friendlier.

David R Kamerschen, Ph.D.
Professor of Economics
University of Georgia
[and, because the intro wasn’t insulting enough, it ends with this flourish]

For those who understand, no explanation is needed.
For those who do not understand, no explanation is possible.”


This first thing I did when I read this was to google the Ph.D. who is credited with this deceptive story. It seems there is a David R Kamerschen, Ph.D. who teaches econ at the U. of G., but, of course, he may not have written this. For his sake, and for the sake of the institution where he teaches, I sincerely hope not.

The story shows a fundamental misunderstanding of what taxes are and what they pay for.
It's true that the poor pay less, but they receive less. Taxes don't go to beer. They go to things like police and firefighters and public schools. A policeman defends all homes from, for example, theft, so the wealthy person is receiving protection for far more valuable goods than the poor person. Likewise the firefighter, who is protecting a lot more property when he/she puts out the fire in the wealthy person's home than when putting out a fire in a poor person's home. The same even goes for public schools: the education may be the same for the child of a wealthy person or a poor person (or, at least, it would be if we had a more equitable system) but the wealthy person not only receives an education for his/her child, but a more educated workforce at his or her company, a benefit which the poor person doesn't experience. Also, the values of the expensive property of the wealthy person are related to the quality of the schools, just like the crime rate. Any of you who have crummy schools and have seen a decline in the value of homes in the area know this to be true. So, an economic professor might think we get beer for our tax money, but I'm not sure what country has such a system. I expect services, and the wealthy do benefit more, so they should pay more.

People like Bill Gates Sr. have said as much when they advocate for keeping the estate tax: they know how they've benefited, and that a more equitable system, even one that costs them more in taxes, benefits them even more in services. Bill Gates Sr. wrote: "The estate tax — our nation’s only levy on accumulated wealth — is the fairest and most important tax we have.

"It puts a brake on the concentration of wealth and power, generates substantial revenue from those most able to pay and encourages billions of dollars in charitable giving each year. The estate tax is not only fair but an essential component of our nation’s economic dynamism.

"Without our society’s substantial investments in taxpayer-funded research, technology, education and infrastructure, the wealth of the Forbes 400 richest Americans would not be so robust."

And as to the spurious argument that the ultra-wealthy will leave the U.S. for a country where high taxes and a strong government do not protect their wealth: show me the wealthy person who has decided to invest all his money in countries with low taxes and no stable banking system or protections of personal property, and I'll show you someone who may become very poor very quickly then they government falls or decides to seize his assets without cause. There's a reason a country like the U.S., which taxes the wealthy more than the poor, has the largest GDP in the world, and there's a reason why the economy slips when McCain, Bush, and the other acolytes of anti-tax activists gain power and try to do away with the very regulations that protect us all, wealthy and poor alike.

[I wrote that last bit on September 16th. This is not to say that I have some unusual powers of prognostication when it comes to the markets, but I think any economics professor worth his/her salt would concede that deregulation has shown its darker side quite vividly in the five days since.]

The next day I thought of another example as I fumed about the guy's perverted parable: Imagine that you have a hundred dollars in a bank, and somebody comes along with a hundred million and wants to open an account. The bank decides it will have to build a new, two million dollar high-tech vault to keep all that money safe. A conservative tax scheme would dictate that the most fair way to divide that cost would be for both you and the multi-millionaire to pay an even million each for that protection.

I think, when reduced to that oversimplification, it's easy for anybody to see that fair isn't always equal and equal isn't always fair.

Two Book Recommendations

I know I haven't posted in a while, which means I'm breaking the two cardinal rules of blogging: Posts should be frequent and short. Well, I'll try to manage one of those by keeping this brief (I know. Too late.)

I would love to say I've been slaving away at my lesson plans for this next school year all summer, but that would be a lie. I've been camping a lot. And napping a lot. Everything else has fallen by the wayside. I have been trying to catch up on some reading, and I've just finished two very good books. Normally, a book recommendation is the worst kind of advice to give me. I write down the title, say I'll get to it one day, and promptly forget where I put the name. If you, dear reader, have the same proclivity, this might help. These book recommendations have time limits, because both these novels are being made into films, and after reading both, I fear the movies will be monumentally awful. They will either be overlayed with voice-over narration because anyone with any sense wants to make them into movies because of the beauty of their prose, or they will be vapid chronicles of the events in the books which really aren't the point of either novel.

Read The Lovely Bones. I am not a crier, but I teared up more than once. The writing is very good, and the picture of a family dealing with grief is so spot-on that you forget your first reaction, which is that the idea of a murder victim narrating her observations of the living is at best clever and probably lame, and instead decide it was brilliant. This isn't true, but the quality of the writing almost makes it so.

Time Limit: Read by 3/13/2009
(Peter Jackson is attached, but I'm worried this will be far more King Kong than The Lord of the Rings. At least it won't possibly be Meet The Feebles.)

Read The Road. Imagine Mad Max meets No County For Old Men (a novel also by Cormac McCarthy) but with a father and son set-up that rips your heart out over and over without ever getting schmaltzy. Not even once, and that's saying something. McCarthy could teach Hemingway a thing or two about the economy of language. It was the first time I ever felt a physical pain in my chest caused by words the writer didn't include. McCarthy plays with your ears, so you hear things the characters don't say on the page, and sometimes you're deafened by their silences, too. The text itself is scant, but the thick subtext (midtext?) makes you read the book more slowly, like a great basketball player who knows how to control the tempo on both sides of the court. When I finished I was so full of feeling it reminded me of the kind of passion I could manage as a teenager, only the book indulges (and even exhorts) an adult recognition of nuance so that I can't understand, let alone articulate, exactly which direction these feelings are pulling. When you finish it, please post a description of your emotional reaction here, so I can use your road map to navigate my own.

Time Limit: Read by 11/26/08
(The cast looks amazing. Charlize Theron, Robert Duvall, Guy Pierce, Viggo Mortensen. At the height of their powers, these folks might be able to convey a lot of what's going on inside these characters. But then we miss out on the prose. Plus, they'll need someone with Robert Duvall's skill and resume to play the four or five-year-old boy. Macaulay Culkin will not do.)

Okay, well, now I've managed Infrequent and Long. If you still have any free time left, read both these books.

Favorite Novels to Assign for Creative Writing Class

Okay, world, I have another favor to ask:
This next year, for my Creative Writing Class, I'm going to assign some independent novel projects to students. I need some titles that I can put on my list. Here's what I'm looking for:

1. First and foremost, the book must be an example of truly exceptional writing; not just a great story and an important book in its historical context, but something so well written that students can learn from the style and quality of the prose.

2. The novel has to be appropriate for high school students (and something that won't freak their parents out). I think Nabakov's Lolita is one of the best examples of English prose ever, but I'm not going to fight that battle with the parents or the school board. Also, I really enjoy Umberto Eco, but I'm not going to assign him to a sixteen-year-old. So don't try to show off by recommending Joyce' Ulysses.

3. The novel can't be a part of any other class' curriculum. Give me lots of suggestions so I can eliminate some and still have plenty to work with.

4. Ideally, it's something I've read. Of course, I can always pick it up if it sounds like a winner.

So far, I'm thinking about
For Whom the Bell Tolls
A Prayer for Owen Meany
Catch-22
Lord of the Flies
and maybe, maybe The God of Small Things (think kids could handle that one? Think their parents would agree?)
It's been a long time since I've read I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. I remember being deeply affected by the book, but without a copy handy I can't remember the quality of the prose. Anybody have a take on that one?

Any suggestions would be welcome. Thanks, world.

Free Rice

While I'm promoting free online quizzes, please check out http://www.freerice.com/ . On this site, you answer multiple choice questions about the definitions of words. If you're a word lover (or "logophile") like me, this is just fun, but here's the really cool part: For every word you identify correctly, someone in the third world gets twenty grains of rice. I racked up 3800 with the help of my Creative Writing class today. (We had some down-time between units and someone recommended the site.) It's addictive, educational, and philanthropic. Who could imagine anything better?

http://www.freerice.com/

Again, feel free to brag about your best scores in the comments section here.