I say we ban Mondays. Let's have double Saturdays instead.
I'm done with the whole "yakking about my days as a wee lad" thing for now, I'm not really ready to face politics yet, and I'm at a loss for something to blog about.
I mean... sure, I could talk about Bob Woolmer being poisoned, and I could probably tie it into a somewhat amusing anecdote about the time I narrowly missed killing a frat boy with a cricket ball, or the time we made the university remove all their novelty "EIU Cricket Club" shirts from the university bookstore. But do any of you care about cricket? Probably not. I used to enjoy playing cricket, and even I'm not interested in cricket.
I could talk about the fact that the Supreme Court just said it is OK for US companies to violate US patents as long as they do it outside of the United States, and I could turn it into a rant about how much Microsoft sucks or how retarded the Supreme Court has become. But you all know that Microsoft sucks and that the Supreme Court has the moral authority of a goat molester, and the whole thing borders on politics anyway.
You also know that the goverment lies about progress in Iraq, that Wolfowitz is a corrupt hypocrite, and that Pollyanna Petraeus has completely sacrificed his credibility in order to support the administration. Politics, Politics, Politics. Not today, OK?
And I should really let Johnny blog about the Chelsea Flower Show's tribute to Iggy Pop, especially since it involves Lust For Life.
I'm at a loss.
Suggestions, anyone?
Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Variations On A Theme
One more school post to finish out the week. My mother was mortified when I told this story on a recent visit home. It was the first time she'd heard it.
Again with the background... I'll be quick because there are only a two relevant facts that my mom knew that you don't. a) Once upon a time, my brother was a painter. He was pretty good at it; he ended up getting a fine arts degree. b) There were two art teachers at my high school. I had them both. There was Mrs. Lathrop, the redheaded divorcee with the sporty red vintage Mustang convertable. I'm guessing she had a good lawyer. I had her first. Then there was crusty old Mrs. Lowe, who had been at the school forever. I had her second.
See, I said I'd be quick. Now that you're up to speed...
One day after school, I was walking down the hall, minding my own business, when I passed the two art teachers, deep in conversation. Out of nowhere, Mrs. Lowe interrupted their conversation to tell me "You know, you're not nearly as good a painter as your brother."
Without missing a beat, I responded "That's OK, you're not nearly as good an art teacher as Mrs. Lathrop," and kept walking, leaving poor Mrs. Lathrop in stitches while Mrs. Lowe just stood there at a loss for words.
Again with the background... I'll be quick because there are only a two relevant facts that my mom knew that you don't. a) Once upon a time, my brother was a painter. He was pretty good at it; he ended up getting a fine arts degree. b) There were two art teachers at my high school. I had them both. There was Mrs. Lathrop, the redheaded divorcee with the sporty red vintage Mustang convertable. I'm guessing she had a good lawyer. I had her first. Then there was crusty old Mrs. Lowe, who had been at the school forever. I had her second.
See, I said I'd be quick. Now that you're up to speed...
One day after school, I was walking down the hall, minding my own business, when I passed the two art teachers, deep in conversation. Out of nowhere, Mrs. Lowe interrupted their conversation to tell me "You know, you're not nearly as good a painter as your brother."
Without missing a beat, I responded "That's OK, you're not nearly as good an art teacher as Mrs. Lathrop," and kept walking, leaving poor Mrs. Lathrop in stitches while Mrs. Lowe just stood there at a loss for words.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
His Royal Highness, The Second Lieutenant
Friends of Prince Harry have said that he will not quit the Army if he is given a desk job in Iraq instead of dodging IEDs. He will merely be "very disappointed".
Hundreds of British troops in Iraq responded "We can quit?"
Hundreds of British troops in Iraq responded "We can quit?"
The First Assignment I Ever Blew Off Out Of Boredom
(But not the last...)
Continuing on the educational theme, I thought I'd tell you about one of my earliest run-ins with the educational system. For some reason it made a strong impression on me. It probably has something to do with my genetic predisposition toward holding a grudge. I was going to pop in a link there, but I haven't talked about it yet, so you'll have to take my word for it. It's closely tied to my family's genetic predisposition toward jackassery, as you may well imagine.
In any case, a little background: Kindergarten was optional in my school district, and because I was the last child (Surprise, Ma!), my mom decided to skip it so she could spend more time with me. Go figure...
So it came to pass in the first few days of first grade that my teacher gave a little pep talk to impress upon us the benefits of a public education. Her talk progressed in the vein of asking a series of rhetorical questions about things that we were unable to do, but would be able to do after first grade. You know, things like "How many of you could change a tire before you came to school?" or "How many of you could solve differential equations before you came to school?" or something along those lines... my memory grows dim. The one that sticks in my mind is when she asked "How many of you could read before you came to first grade."
I had not twigged to the fact that these were supposed to be rhetorical questions, so I raised my hand, prompting the kind of response that one normally associates with Dickensian stories about orphans and workhouses. In front of the whole class she snapped back that I most certainly could not read before I came to school, and proceeded to chew me out for interrupting her spiel.
I was taken aback, but because I was raised in a household where one did not tell grownups when they are acting like an ass, I held my tongue.
A few days later, we began doing assessments for reading and math placement and being able to walk along a board without falling off. I guess that last one was for P.E. placement. I never figured that one out. One of the tasks was, and I kid you not, to count as high as we possibly could. She made a big deal over the kid who first reached 100. And the second.
It came to my turn. I started counting. Around 20 or so, I realized how staggeringly pointless this was. I briefly considered explaining place values to her. However, given her reaction to the whole "I can already read" thing, I thought that bringing up "I already understand place values" would probably not go over well. I started wondering at what point I should stop counting. I don't recall my exact thought process, but I'm pretty sure that it went something like this: "I could keep going with this pointless excercise until I hit a hundred to get the praise that she'd given the other kids, or I could show everyone up and just count until she has to ask me to stop... or I could just stop now and spend the rest of the time until lunch thinking rude comments about the really dumb kids."
I stopped and sat down.
Now, one would think that she would have the grace to apologize for her outburst when the reading aptitude results came back. One would be wrong. However, she did borrow a reading book from the fifth graders and let me have my own reading group. It was the closest she came to admitting she was wrong.
Continuing on the educational theme, I thought I'd tell you about one of my earliest run-ins with the educational system. For some reason it made a strong impression on me. It probably has something to do with my genetic predisposition toward holding a grudge. I was going to pop in a link there, but I haven't talked about it yet, so you'll have to take my word for it. It's closely tied to my family's genetic predisposition toward jackassery, as you may well imagine.
In any case, a little background: Kindergarten was optional in my school district, and because I was the last child (Surprise, Ma!), my mom decided to skip it so she could spend more time with me. Go figure...
So it came to pass in the first few days of first grade that my teacher gave a little pep talk to impress upon us the benefits of a public education. Her talk progressed in the vein of asking a series of rhetorical questions about things that we were unable to do, but would be able to do after first grade. You know, things like "How many of you could change a tire before you came to school?" or "How many of you could solve differential equations before you came to school?" or something along those lines... my memory grows dim. The one that sticks in my mind is when she asked "How many of you could read before you came to first grade."
I had not twigged to the fact that these were supposed to be rhetorical questions, so I raised my hand, prompting the kind of response that one normally associates with Dickensian stories about orphans and workhouses. In front of the whole class she snapped back that I most certainly could not read before I came to school, and proceeded to chew me out for interrupting her spiel.
I was taken aback, but because I was raised in a household where one did not tell grownups when they are acting like an ass, I held my tongue.
A few days later, we began doing assessments for reading and math placement and being able to walk along a board without falling off. I guess that last one was for P.E. placement. I never figured that one out. One of the tasks was, and I kid you not, to count as high as we possibly could. She made a big deal over the kid who first reached 100. And the second.
It came to my turn. I started counting. Around 20 or so, I realized how staggeringly pointless this was. I briefly considered explaining place values to her. However, given her reaction to the whole "I can already read" thing, I thought that bringing up "I already understand place values" would probably not go over well. I started wondering at what point I should stop counting. I don't recall my exact thought process, but I'm pretty sure that it went something like this: "I could keep going with this pointless excercise until I hit a hundred to get the praise that she'd given the other kids, or I could show everyone up and just count until she has to ask me to stop... or I could just stop now and spend the rest of the time until lunch thinking rude comments about the really dumb kids."
I stopped and sat down.
Now, one would think that she would have the grace to apologize for her outburst when the reading aptitude results came back. One would be wrong. However, she did borrow a reading book from the fifth graders and let me have my own reading group. It was the closest she came to admitting she was wrong.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Chinese Students Are Good At Math
The BBC reports that the Royal Society of Chemistry says Chinese kids are better at math than English kids. Racist bastards! Somebody at the Royal Society of Chemistry should get fired. I think we can do without hurtful racial stereotypes in this day and age. I don't see why a chemistry society is commenting on math anyway.
They're offering 500 pounds to someone who can answer a question from a Chinese university entrance exam, so sharpen your pencils. That's nearly 227 kilograms!
It turns out that they cut the American math test from their original story. Lucky for you, my sources at the BBC had access to the unedited version of the story. Here it is, in a Dead Spot exclusive:
They're offering 500 pounds to someone who can answer a question from a Chinese university entrance exam, so sharpen your pencils. That's nearly 227 kilograms!
It turns out that they cut the American math test from their original story. Lucky for you, my sources at the BBC had access to the unedited version of the story. Here it is, in a Dead Spot exclusive:
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
That's All Right, That's OK...
Let me warn you now. There will be rambling.
I've been thinking a lot about my soccer team recently. One of the kids on my team had his Bar Mitzvah about a week and a half ago. He talked about soccer in his speech, and lots of people talked to me about soccer that day. People I had never met knew me as the soccer coach. I think the nicest thing anyone said was that the soccer team has been the core that has held his group of friends together for so long. I've been coaching many of these kids since they were 5, and I've only got 2 and a half seasons before I turn them over to the high school.
Let the rambling begin.
I have a soccer game this afternoon, and I'll be missing about a third of my team. There's a band concert that starts right about the same time our game ends, and the kids will be there. The kids on the team are nice, smart kids, and they're into a lot of stuff.
Being nice is a great trait for future citizens. It's been a thorn in my side since day one. They aren't going to run through the ball, because it means that the other kid is probably going to end up knocked on his ass. The kids on other teams don't have this same concern. My kids have broken through the defense and stopped to make sure that the other kid is OK instead of heading for the goal while I gnashed my teeth on the sideline. It doesn't matter how often I repeat the referee's mantra that you play hard until the ref blows the whistle, and then you play a little less hard the next time. They just won't foul the obnoxious little psycho on the other team no matter how much he deserves it or what the ref is allowing. They don't talk smack on the field, and they get mad when the other team does. They're nice kids. Oh, they'll kill each other in practice, but they'll only treat their friends that way.
Ramble on...
We were playing Taboo with the kids and in-laws a couple of weeks ago. I nailed "sunglasses" with a pretty credible imitation of Corey Hart that lasted all of three words. But the weirdest moment for me was when my son got "lawyer" with this exchange:
"My friends' parents are these."
"Professors?"
"No!"
"Scientists?"
"No! The other one!"
"Lawyers?"
"Yeah!"
How weird is it that lawyer is "the other" profession after professor/scientist? I have a lot of really bright kids on my team. Sports is usually not their top priority, they're into lots of stuff.
Crap. I literally just had another parent email to tell me that their kid is going to be at the band concert. I can't field a full team now no matter what happens, even if everybody else does show up. I'm down to 10 players for the first half, 8 for the second. Two players are going to race from the field to the concert at half-time.
So where was I? Other activities? One of my players just came back to the team after taking a couple of years off from soccer. Part of the time, he had a conflict with fencing. Fencing, how cool is that? I should take up fencing. That would totally rock. Maybe in about 13 months. If Lex still played violin, we'd have at least half the team playing a musical instrument.
Here's the thing: there was a time, not so long ago, when we were the dominant team in our park district league. Then the league gutted our team to "balance the teams". They took most of our best players and gave them to other teams. None of our kids play club soccer, because they don't like the attitude of the kids that play on the local traveling club. To be fair, most of those kids are assholes. Don't look at me like that. There are plenty of adults who are assholes. They probably started out as kids that were assholes. Some kids are assholes. We all know it, I'm just the one saying it out loud ...metaphorically speaking. I also get a lot of the kids who are just starting soccer, probably because the parents know that I'll give their kids the same amount of playing time as everyone else on the team. We're a rec league; we're supposed to do that. If your kid plays on another team, good luck with that.
We've gone for a while without a good season. In fact, we've gone a couple of seasons without a win. Honestly, this will probably be another one. Now, the most competitive kids (or at least, the kids with the most competitive parents) develop "scheduling conflicts" and end up on another soccer team. That's OK. I'd rather have players with a great attitude and a terrible record than a terrible attitude and a great record. That said, I wouldn't mind winning one now and then. This year we're all seventh graders in a seventh and eighth grade league. Those eighth graders are huge. Maybe next year when we're all eighth graders, unless the park district decides to balance the team again.
A long time ago, I named our team after the Chicago Fire (the soccer team, not the disaster... Stop that, I do the jokes here.), but I'm beginning to think that I named them after the wrong Illinois team. I think maybe we're Northwestern...
Addendum:
OK, that's what I get for not following college sports. It appears that Northwestern may actually have a pretty good soccer team. Lord help us, I think we might be the Cubs.
I've been thinking a lot about my soccer team recently. One of the kids on my team had his Bar Mitzvah about a week and a half ago. He talked about soccer in his speech, and lots of people talked to me about soccer that day. People I had never met knew me as the soccer coach. I think the nicest thing anyone said was that the soccer team has been the core that has held his group of friends together for so long. I've been coaching many of these kids since they were 5, and I've only got 2 and a half seasons before I turn them over to the high school.
Let the rambling begin.
I have a soccer game this afternoon, and I'll be missing about a third of my team. There's a band concert that starts right about the same time our game ends, and the kids will be there. The kids on the team are nice, smart kids, and they're into a lot of stuff.
Being nice is a great trait for future citizens. It's been a thorn in my side since day one. They aren't going to run through the ball, because it means that the other kid is probably going to end up knocked on his ass. The kids on other teams don't have this same concern. My kids have broken through the defense and stopped to make sure that the other kid is OK instead of heading for the goal while I gnashed my teeth on the sideline. It doesn't matter how often I repeat the referee's mantra that you play hard until the ref blows the whistle, and then you play a little less hard the next time. They just won't foul the obnoxious little psycho on the other team no matter how much he deserves it or what the ref is allowing. They don't talk smack on the field, and they get mad when the other team does. They're nice kids. Oh, they'll kill each other in practice, but they'll only treat their friends that way.
Ramble on...
We were playing Taboo with the kids and in-laws a couple of weeks ago. I nailed "sunglasses" with a pretty credible imitation of Corey Hart that lasted all of three words. But the weirdest moment for me was when my son got "lawyer" with this exchange:
"My friends' parents are these."
"Professors?"
"No!"
"Scientists?"
"No! The other one!"
"Lawyers?"
"Yeah!"
How weird is it that lawyer is "the other" profession after professor/scientist? I have a lot of really bright kids on my team. Sports is usually not their top priority, they're into lots of stuff.
Crap. I literally just had another parent email to tell me that their kid is going to be at the band concert. I can't field a full team now no matter what happens, even if everybody else does show up. I'm down to 10 players for the first half, 8 for the second. Two players are going to race from the field to the concert at half-time.
So where was I? Other activities? One of my players just came back to the team after taking a couple of years off from soccer. Part of the time, he had a conflict with fencing. Fencing, how cool is that? I should take up fencing. That would totally rock. Maybe in about 13 months. If Lex still played violin, we'd have at least half the team playing a musical instrument.
Here's the thing: there was a time, not so long ago, when we were the dominant team in our park district league. Then the league gutted our team to "balance the teams". They took most of our best players and gave them to other teams. None of our kids play club soccer, because they don't like the attitude of the kids that play on the local traveling club. To be fair, most of those kids are assholes. Don't look at me like that. There are plenty of adults who are assholes. They probably started out as kids that were assholes. Some kids are assholes. We all know it, I'm just the one saying it out loud ...metaphorically speaking. I also get a lot of the kids who are just starting soccer, probably because the parents know that I'll give their kids the same amount of playing time as everyone else on the team. We're a rec league; we're supposed to do that. If your kid plays on another team, good luck with that.
We've gone for a while without a good season. In fact, we've gone a couple of seasons without a win. Honestly, this will probably be another one. Now, the most competitive kids (or at least, the kids with the most competitive parents) develop "scheduling conflicts" and end up on another soccer team. That's OK. I'd rather have players with a great attitude and a terrible record than a terrible attitude and a great record. That said, I wouldn't mind winning one now and then. This year we're all seventh graders in a seventh and eighth grade league. Those eighth graders are huge. Maybe next year when we're all eighth graders, unless the park district decides to balance the team again.
A long time ago, I named our team after the Chicago Fire (the soccer team, not the disaster... Stop that, I do the jokes here.), but I'm beginning to think that I named them after the wrong Illinois team. I think maybe we're Northwestern...
Addendum:
OK, that's what I get for not following college sports. It appears that Northwestern may actually have a pretty good soccer team. Lord help us, I think we might be the Cubs.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Sheryl Crow: Toilet Fascist
It appears that the Beeb reported a joke as a serious suggestion. Sheryl Crow stated yesterday that the suggestions quoted from her website were a joke. What is the world coming to when we can no longer mock our celebrities with the assurance that their foolish statements have been accurately reported in the correct context? Because my journalistic standards are so much higher than the BBC's, I've beaten them to the punch with a retraction.
Well played, Ms. Crow.
Sheryl Crow has decided to weigh in on important world issues. Finally, a B-list celebrity who has thoughts on world events and is unafraid to share them. Now we can make some progess.
First up: she's decided that you should only use one square of toilet paper per visit. Come on, even Rimmer used three: one up, one down, and one to polish. She spent "the better part of her tour" working on this, and this is what she has come up with to stop global warming: We should all smell of ass.
"I propose a limitation be put on how many squares of toilet paper can be used in any one sitting," she said. I'll not make a joke about the paperwork involved in legislating and enforcing this. I'm sure you can write your own.
Next up: We should wear clothing with detachable "dining sleeves" so that we can wipe our mouths on our sleeves at dinner instead of using napkins. Um, Sheryl... manners don't cause global warming.
Coincidentally, Sheryl has designed a line of clothing with dining sleeves. I'm guessing she won't face much competition in the niche demographic of "People who are uncouth enough to wipe their face on their sleeve, but still care enough not to want everyone to know what they had for dinner."
No word from Sheryl on the waste and ground water polution generated in the production of vaguely folkish alterna-rock CDs and fake blondes, but maybe she can work on that during her next tour.
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