Hay guyz, wuts goin' on hear.

Isn't that a RIOT?! Did you see the bit with the leg after the smooch?!

The first time I watched this, I was half convinced that the deli man was Robert DeNero (I'm still a little giddy over his performance in Stardust, I think). It's a sweet, funny ad, and I have no idea why so many people have themselves all in a twist over it. In fact, it makes me want to go to the market and find some of that roasted garlic mayo...

All right - get ready, because here it comes again: I'm going to keep saying it until I don't have to say it any more. Love is love, and no particular flavor of love is any more or less valid than the next. How someone else loves has NO effect on anyone else unless that someone else has nothing better to do than to get all worked up over it, and I'm SURE we can find better uses of our time and energy.

I've changed my attitude about gay marriage - or, more to the point, I've figured out how to articulate that attitude in a more clear manner: we NEED gay marriage. It should not be questioned, it should not be limited, and it certainly should not be legislated. We need it for a number of reasons, but my big two are these:

One - if the State can legislate gay marriage, what's to keep them from legislating ALL marriage? The fact of the matter is that it's a very short step from the government's interfering in one group's affairs to its interfering in ALL our affairs. If you want to keep your marriage safe, you'll want to ensure marriage for everyone.

image credit

Two - the Universe needs all the love and compassion it can get. Marriage is hard, beautiful, important work, and the more people who do it - and do it well - the more light gets poured into the Universe.

Let there be light.

image credit

The Semispinalis Capitus (I've also seen it spelled Semispinalis Capitis - Doc, which is it?) is a muscle which originates at the articular processes of C4-C7 and inserts at the occipital bone. It is responsible for extending and flexing the vertebral column at the neck and maintaining position of the head. We use these muscles when we look up, and they are vital to the proper execution of upward dog pose (Urdhva Mukha Svanasana)

and locust pose (Salambhasana).

The Iliocostalis Cervicis is responsible for extending the cervical vertebrae (the neck) and is a primary actor in mountain pose (Tadasana), where the practitioner is lifting through the center of the top of the head:

and in chin lock (Jallundhar Bandha). These muscles are also brought into play in inversions such as plow (Halasana)

and shoulder stand (Salamba Sarvangasana):

both of these poses require that the head is extended and the chin tucked slightly inward to create space in the neck.

(all yoga images courtesy of yogajournal.com)

This story also provides a quote that along with the video below absolutely epitomize why it is impossible to dislike Charles Barkley: "Do I have a gambling problem? Yeah I do have a gambling problem, but I don't consider it a problem because I can afford to gamble."

BTW, Barkley is 45? When did that happen?

I got scared a few days ago because he is always telling me that he won't ever break up with me and that put a lot of pressure on me. To me it was him stating that if we ever break up that I will have to be the one to do it and it felt like he was asking me to plan out the rest of my life and include him in it.

Now, I do plan out my life years in advance but I never plan it out with another person. So feeling like him asking me to do that just freaked me out beyond belief. So when he called me last night to talk instead of being a mature grown up I used a terrible defense mechanism and used anger to turn it around on him and act like he did something wrong to deserve my wrath; but he didn't. And as much as I shouldn't have become all psycho-bitch on him, I can't do anything about it now. But he called again today, and this makes me so proud he pushed me to tell him what was bothering me, so we talked it out and he said that he wasn't asking anything like that of me and that he was sorry if he scared me.

Dayton explained that what he meant when he told me things like that was that he can't imagine him wanting to break up with me; or that he can't imagine his life in the future without me. But that he doesn't mean that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me, or is asking me to do the same.

Then he sent me a text saying that our talk on the phone was weird and that he was sorry for making me uncomfortable earlier. He asked me to understand the he is, and I quote, 'retarded' and he loves me for being me. I had to send him one back explaining that I am just a big old mountain of cuckoo, ready to spill molten crazy all over him. Ah, I do love Scrubs. And not to go too tangent, but I am so like Elliot Reed. Seriously, apart from the 'quite on the crapper' rule we are almost identical. You know, except for the me being ridiculously tall, and brunette, and not a doctor.

So, now that that is all cleared up, the pressure has been relieved and I finally allowed myself to miss him. Not that that was the reason that I wasn't missing him. Actually, I have been swamped with homework; what with me losing any and all motivation to do work last week. I have been trying to catch up for the last two days. I really chose the worst time to lose it too, because I have a huge midterm this week and then two big ones next week.

It was funny actually, because I was so heartsick when I went home for spring break and I was prepared to miss Dayton terribly this time, but then I got so busy that I didn't have time to miss him and he said that he thought it wouldn't be that bad because he knew what spring break was like; but this time he went to a family member's wedding and the whole mood made him miss me even more. It made me give myself big self-hugs.

MMMM.....

Naturally, the modern-day City of Tampa has told her to take a long drive off a short pier (damn, did I actually just say that?). Rather than calling Tampa during dinner and mailing letters full of shame-inducing language, she's decided to enforce her right as an American and sue their pants off. When asked by NPR as to why she's collecting the debt now, she replied "better late than never."

Now Tampa has a lot of very good reasons why this debt isn't valid, namely that the loan was paid in Confederate dollars. Last time I checked, the Treasury isn't printing that particular currency because THE UNION WON THE CIVIL WAR FOUR YEARS LATER. Have you ever seen this Confederate currency? It wasn't standardized because of how scarce supplies such as engravers and printers were in the South. Basically, they got by with whatever they had. The money had images of notable CSA politicians and military leaders like Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, and "Stonewall Jackson." (or, you could just go stare at Stone Mountain for a while) Other aspects of Southern culture was represented on the bills, such as slaves smiling happily while picking cotton and receiving Kunta Kinte-level beatings. States and banks minted their own bills, counterfeiting was rampant, and by the time everyone realized they probably weren't going to win this one, the Confederate dollar had about as much purchasing power as the Iraqi Dinar.

This lady would probably do better submitting this IOU to the Antiques Roadshow than as evidence in a court of law.

I spent an amazing - if not altogether too short - few days with my blogging friends Bo and SaintSeester this past weekend, and I'm still a little high from the experience. Here, in no particular order, are ten things that left their mark on me:

1. I'm so, SO grateful to Bruder for opening his home (and sharing his cat) with me for this trip. Mr. Chili was rightfully uneasy about my traveling alone halfway across the country to meet people who, for all intents and purposes, were complete strangers (though there are so many reasons why they were NOT complete strangers, but do I see his point). Being able to stay at Bruder's lent a layer of security to the process that, if it were not there, would have made the entire exercise untenable to my husband. Bruder got to share some time together with Bo, Seester, and me, and can truthfully report back to my beloved that my friends are exactly who I knew they'd be.

2. I am consistently amazed that we can all call ourselves Americans and yet be so incredibly different culturally. Southern mores and Northern ones are profoundly different. That's neither good nor bad - I'm not making any value judgments, here - but what I am saying is that it was very interesting for me, a born-and-bred Yankee whose never lived 70 miles as the crow flies from her birthplace, to spend time in the South. I've never been called ma'am so much. Men stood when I walked into a room. Bo got OUT of his truck to open my door when he came to pick me up. Waitresses TALKED to us (and one even came back to thank Bo for his generous tip - that's never, ever happened to me, and not because I'm not a generous tipper, either). There's a very different feel being in the South, and I can completely understand why people originally from one region would feel uncomfortable and conspicuous moving to the other.

3. There was a really funky mix of familiar and completely alien for me during this trip. The Weather Channel, chain restaurants, Home Depot and such were all things that I knew; the open fields, the red dirt, and the accents were all things that I didn't. While I think that diversity and local flavor and custom are wondrous and fascinating things, I like the comfort of familiarity, too. Despite all the evils of big-box stores and chain restaurants, those things DO give us a commonality that we'd be lacking otherwise (of course, we can have shared experiences through literature and film, too, but that's another post for another day).

4. Jeff Foxworthy does this bit about knowing when one is a redneck. In the version I heard, he starts the skit by talking about the accent; "Y'all hear a Southern accent," he says "and you automatically deduct a hundred IQ points." He then goes on to say how no one wants their brain surgeon to come in the room and say "Alright now; we're gonna drill a hole in yer head and root 'round in there and see if we cain't break up that dag-burn clot." While it's true that I probably wouldn't want my brain surgeon to say that, regardless of her accent, it is true that I prescribed, at least a little bit, to that stereotype. I laughed at Foxworthy - I thought it was funny. What I've always known intellectually - but came to realize in a very immediate way this weekend - is that accent has as much to do with intelligence and articulateness as does one's favorite color. My Southern friends have distinct accents and are some of the sharpest, smartest, most observant, and considered people I know. I still think Foxworthy's funny, but I'm going to be a lot less quick to judge Southern books by their covers (or their soundtracks, as the case may be). I grew a little as a person on this trip.

5. Sweet tea is altogether too sweet for my liking. Grits are yummy.

6. While I may not like it in my own home, I'm struck by the beauty of dramatic colors on the walls of my friends' houses. Seester's guest bathroom is painted the most stunning shade of deep, rich blue - actually, now that I think of it, there's a wall in Bo's living room that's just that color (go here to see; it's on the wall right behind him). Seester's dining room is done in an amazing shade of burgundy, and she did a gorgeous bit of magic in her daughter's room with green paint and pearl glaze. All the rooms in our house (with the exception of one sky blue wall in the girls' room) are either white or the faintest hint of pastel green or blue. I'm just not brave enough to commit to an out-loud color, and I admire people (like Seester and Bo and my mother, who had me paint her kitchen purple) who are.

7. I'm still not entirely sure I get the whole allure of geocaching, but I'm willing to learn. It's something my friends love - enough to spend serious money on equipment and make significant investments with their time - and I'd like to know what that's all about.

8. This doesn't have anything to do with my visit, but it does have to do with my travels: I'm always saddened by how rude people can be, particularly to strangers (and service people). You'd think it wouldn't faze me anymore, but it does. When I landed in DC, there was practically a mob scene in the terminal. My guess - I didn't want to get close enough to know for sure - is that a flight had been canceled and there were a pretty significant number of people who were profoundly - and vocally - unhappy about that. My thinking is this; the poor schmuck behind the counter is NOT the person who controls when (or whether) and airplane lands or takes off; he has absolutely zero control over whether or not we get to leave on time...or at all. Verbally abusing this person isn't going to get results, and it only reveals the person doing the yelling as a boor. I understand that these people were upset. I understand that it was late and everyone was probably tired and travel-weary and that many of the people in the crowd were likely just trying to get home and were likely in a state of panic wondering what they were going to do about jobs and commitments on Monday morning if they were still stuck in DC because they couldn't get a flight. I understand that many of them may have been out a significant amount of money over the issue. I get all that. My point is that calling the desk agent a stupid asshole at the top of one's voice isn't going to change any of it, and it isn't going to rack up any karma points for the boors, either. Poor, dear Boors; take a step back, take a deep breath, and try to figure out a work-around. Leave the beleaguered desk agent out of it - trust me; his day is much worse than yours is.

9. Oh, I almost forgot! I learned some secret Southern code while I was in Alabama! We were sitting around talking on Saturday, and Seester was telling us some stories about her grandma and about how unhappy the lady was when Seester brought home a Baptist whom she intended to wed. Seester's family is Catholic, and grandma wasn't all that happy about a Baptist in the family. She got over it, of course, but it was a little rocky for a while there. Anyway, when we were together on Sunday, Seester did a bit of an apology for telling not-so-nice stories about her grandma, then asked if I noticed that she punctuated her story with "bless her heart." "Bless his/her heart," Seester explained, is something that Southern people say when they're trying to soften the blow of criticism. "He's a smart man, bless his heart, but he's useless with a hammer" would be an example of a good use of the phrase. I'm going to be totally on alert for that saying now. I might even use it myself.

10. I've been looking around my own home environment and thinking about how I would introduce my friends to New England. Bo made several comments over the course of the weekend that he almost never does the "tourist thing" in his hometown, and I think that's likely true of all of us. Sure, I've been to a lot of places in Boston, but I think that's mostly due to the fact that I grew up there and was taken on field trips every year to places like the USS Constitution and the Museum of Science (and, now that I have kids of my own, I chaperone them when THEY go on trips to these places). There are a few touristy things around my little coastal town that I've not experienced yet - I've not gone to see the Tall Ships when they're in the harbor, I've not gone into the decommissioned submarine, I don't go to the annual downtown festival, that sort of thing - and I'm looking around with new eyes as I imagine how I'd plan a visit by my friends to MY little corner of the country. Funny how a visit to someplace else makes one appreciate where one comes from.

Happy Tuesday, Everyone!

I've got another YNG weekend coming up tomorrow night, and I'm trying desperately to work up some enthusiasm for that.

I'm going to force myself to get some things I've been procrastinating about done this evening while I'm babysitting the lab:  I have some grades I need to enter into my computer (and, no doubt, some progress reports to fill out); I want to put together another GSA meeting for next week, so I'll want to plan for that; I have been working on a special topics course in Film as Literature that I want to put together a syllabus and proposal for; and I want to plan out the rest of the semester for both of my classes.  I can probably knock most of that off in the two hours I'll be sitting around - that is, if I can keep myself from blowing it all off and blog surfing for those two hours.

I'm really hoping that I pull out of this slump sometime soon.  I'm starting to really get sick of not giving a damn about anything.

February sucks.

When I came home from work this afternoon, this message was waiting for me on the machine (and I'm quoting here); "Hi, it's Mum.  I'm wondering if you can return Dad's vest.  He doesn't like things that button up the front; he thinks it makes him look old.  I wasn't going to say anything, but he tried it on this morning and it does.  If you can bring it back, I'll take it to your house; just let me know."

My father-in-law is turning 86 tomorrow.  I think he's at a point where the "older gentleman" look suits him.

Whatever.

~~~~~~~~~ 

To be posted VERY LOW on the refrigerator door - nose height.

Dear Dogs and Cats, The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.I cannot buy anything bigger than a king- sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the
bathroom for years -- canine or feline attendance is not required.The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough!

Perhaps it's my disinclination to seem like a bandwagon jumper, or simply laziness, or a superstitious tendency to let books and bands and movies and TV shows drift into my life, rather than taking a more pro-active approach, but I often find myself enthusing about something long after the cultural moment has peaked. Someone once pointed out that my bookshelf by my bed was full of "big books" from the 90s, as apparently I can only enjoy the literary bestsellers of 1998 in 2007.

It's the same with music. Albums I just bought: Kanye West's "Graduation Day"; Modest Mouse's "We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank"; Wilco's "Sky Blue Sky"; Blonde Redhead's "23." Good choices all, according to me, but these albums have been out for awhile, and it's long past the point where everyone was discussing and enthusing over them.

This means that when I'm in the stage of "Oh my god, have you listened to this album/read this book/seen this movie/watched this TV show it's amazing" I often have no one to gush with, as everyone else is kind of over it. The reaction tends to be, "Oh yeah. Duh." I just watched all of last years Oscar movies last year. I finally got around to watching the show "Extras" -- a show I first heard of when it was nominated for a bunch of awards and I was like, "Extras? What the fuck is that show?"

And the truth is, the joke is more often than not on me, because the thing that everyone raves about often ends up being quite good. Sure, there's are plenty of books/movies/albums etc. that get puffed up by hype, but my passive inclination to distrust anything that "everyone else likes" often amounts to cutting off my nose to spite my face. And weird as it sounds, I've decided I need to be a more active consumer of culture. Instead of reading about stuff, thinking "that sounds interesting, but I don't want to buy it just to be up on things," and making no further effort, I'm going to go out and track it down. More contemporary books, more live shows, more movies, more interesting television.

Oh wait...all that stuff costs money. Another factor is my cultural apathy.

But how does this tie back to Radiohead? I'll wrap it altogether for you. As everyone else in the world knows by now, Radiohead originally released "In Rainbows" over the internet, and anyone could pay what they pleased. But this had mixed results and they released it as an album. Right? We all know this. Old news.

My dad was one of those people who downloaded the album for free and he gave me a copy for Christmas. I've never liked Radiohead much, so I didn't get around to listening to it until today. Bored with all my music, I wanted something new to listen to while writing/tooling around on the internet, pretending to write.

Hey, guess what? It's really good, guys!

What's changed? Have I changed, and suddenly am the kind of person who likes Radiohead? Or (as has been suggested) is this album more accessible than previous efforts? I once listened to "OK Computer" while being driven through the mist on a mountain, probably the most atmospherically appropriate way to listen to that album you could get, and I still thought it was boring and grating and overwrought. Is it Radiohead that's different, or me?

I know you all got over this album months and months ago, but any feedback would be much appreciated.

WELL, IF YOU SQUINT...

From the inbox:
Richard Viguerie on Fred Thompson’s Withdrawal From the Presidential Race:

How Can They Tell He’s No Longer Campaigning?

Yrs truly has just acquired a new digital camera, which means that things might get a little more visual around here.

My first excursion into photographic documentation is here. Yrs truly with sister, cousins & neighbors playing cards and drinking on Christmas eve.

Enjoy. Or don't. Whatever, we had a good time.

Will you take me back?

I know. There's been some water under the bridge.

I may have gotten into a fistfight with mustachioed congressman from Nebraska.

I may have woken up wrapped in three yards of red velvet on a rock in the middle of the Potomac.

I may have shaved off my beard with handful of mayonnaise and a broken Rolling Rock bottle in an alley somewhere in the Bronx.

But we can still be friends, right? We still have things to say to each other?

I'm glad you share my feelings.

The next couple of weeks will be travel heavy for me, but I'll have lots of down time so we can get to know each other again.

I understand from living in the upper Midwest that its inhabitants are “hardcore” about snow. Of course you are. Every winter brings at least a few feet in snow, and often the temperature doesn’t rise above freezing for weeks at a time. That’s part of the deal. I don’t believe, however, that most of the roads should remain covered in snow and ice for most of the time. I don’t believe that most people should have to own a pick-up truck or SUV in order to get around in the winter. I do believe that northern municipalities should deal with the snow and provide safe conditions for traveling.

Currently, Madison is about thirteen inches of snow ahead of the average precipitation accumulation for winter. It has snowed measurable amounts of precipitation in about ten of the last fourteen days. Compared to the last several years, it’s a little unusual, but it’s Wisconsin, so anything can happen. Even with the unusual amount of fallen snow, I expect Madison to clear roads in a timely manner. The first considerable snowfall resulted in about 6-8 inches on a Saturday, and I didn’t see a truck plowing my road (a four lane thorough-fare off the main road in town) for three days. One of my neighbors swore to me that she saw one plow on the second day. Big whoop.

I fully understand not wanting to salt the roads as it will have negative effects on the environment. Yet, I do not understand not plowing the roads or dropping some sand on it to ensure that people can drive to their jobs without endangering the lives of others. Pour the sand on, baby. Make the roads a fucking beach. I want to pretend I’m walking on the boardwalk in Belmar. Am I spoiled because I think snow removal should occur in a timely and EFFECTIVE manner? That cars with less than a foot clearance should be able to traverse side streets? Maybe. Maybe I grew up in Connecticut, where a lot of towns are not operating within a strict budget, and have plenty of money to clear the streets. But should that be a luxury of states with high taxes? Clearly I don’t think so.

I should add that I live about a mile from work, so I almost always walk into lab. If the weather permits, I drive on the weekends, but I usually follow that by running errands so I don’t feel bad about driving my car. This argument doesn’t stem from my anger in not being able to get to work. I don’t absolutely need a car. Rather, my irritation originates from my experience in other places where traveling is not impeded by ice-ridden roads. I really have a hard time believing that plows can’t lift off a lot of the ice, snow and slush that covers the roads.

I know you’re going to say “there’s only so much money” and that money should be used for education and helping the elderly or some other altruistic notion. Sigh. Yes, of course you’re right, you bombastic liberal idealist. How am I going to argue with that? The only thing I can say is that people need to get to their jobs, and that cuts across all socioeconomic classes. So, plow the fucking roads.

Thoughts? Am I wrong? Am I spoiled with my east coast notions of snow removal? (I have to add that one of my good friends from Michigan totally agreed with me…so I know I’m not crazy)

Also, don't get me started on the cyclists who enjoy riding on the snowy roads. I'm going to save that for another post.

Fuck you, spell check.

Yesterday I was shopping with my mother who, as it turns out, is not Jewish. Hey, you just learned something about me. So anyway, we're at this clothing store where we know the owner, who is a dumbass and a flake, and "sharon" says to me, "Oh, Madeline, I bet your kids are getting so excited for Santa Claus! Have they been making their Christmas Lists?!"

This is one of my favorite conversations to have because I like watching people backtrack and squirm.

"Well, no, they're not, because we don't celebrate Christmas at our house."

"Oh . . . oh, right. Well, they must be excited for Chanukah, right?"

My mother, who can't stand squirmage, jumped to Sharon's rescue. "Miles and Jack actually say that: 'We don't have Christmas at our house; we have it at Grammy's house."

"Oh! So I'll bet they're giving their Christmas lists to Grandma!"

Fuck me, man.

"Actually, since Chanukah is a relatively minor holiday in Judaism, we keep it pretty low-key. They don't make lists of things they want."

The lady looked like she was trying to comprehend this information, while at the same time thinking how deprived my poor children must be that they don't get to experience sticky-sweet excessive consumerism. I shot my mom a look.

"It's really very refreshing," she said, "I've never gotten a list from them."

Then I told my mom, since I didn't feel like talking to the lady any more, but I wanted to make sure she heard me, about what Miles had said to me on Monday night.

"I remember when we had Chanukah at our old apartment: we played dreidel on the floor and got chocolate gelt and we each lit our own menorah and I got a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle on a Motorcycle! That was awesome. I still have that turtle."

We left that store and popped into the grocery store across the street. On the way out the bell ringer called out, "Merry Christmas!" and I just held my head up and kept walking. Because I know that, in my town at least, the Salvation Army INSTRUCTS their ringers to say that. But I also know that, where Disapproving Maya works, the management asked the bell ringers to say "Happy Holidays" instead.

See? Nice, easy, inclusive. And I know that the Salvation Army is a Christian charity, duh. But charity, acceptance and coexistence are all Christian tenets, right?

I guarantee you that Jews would throw lots more money into those red buckets if we didn't feel marginalized by the assumption that we believe that Christ was the only son of God/Eternally begotten of the Father/God from God/Light from Light/True God from True God/Begotten not made/ of one being with the father/through him all things were made/for us and for our salvation he was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary and was made man/For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate, he suffered death and was buried.

How about some Latin, yeah? Just to keep things interesting? You bet.

Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est, et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas, et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris. Et iterum venturus est cum gloria, iudicare vivos et mortuos, cuius regni non erit finis.

Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et vivificantem, qui ex Patre procedit. Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur: qui locutus est per prophetas. Et unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam. Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum. Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum, et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen.

Whoa. Like, don't assume we believe that. Just because some of us know it by heart, just like we know "Away in a Manger" and "Silent Night" because our orchestra and choir programs apparently weren't subject to the whole "separation of church and state" thing.  And please don't assume that, just because your response is, "but it's a seasonal greeting/I'm not talking about religion," it makes any difference to Jews or Muslims or Pagans or Atheists or Wiccans or any other minority faith. We really don't care.

As my friend Amy Guth put it (far more eloquently and less rantingly) on her blog, it's not my birthday, it's yours, and it feels oogy when you keep wishing me a happy one.

I came home and called the grocery store manager.

-Peter Griffin

A remark that somebody tossed off on NPR yesterday and a discussion in class this morning have got me wound. I am seriously tired of people -even smart people- pissing about economics as if it's some evil force. This is like complaining about biology. It's a science, people. It's a study of how things work. It's not some agenda-driven disinformation campaign invented by Republicans to make themselves richer or destroy the environment. It is not something invented by The Man* to silence free thinking artists and keep them in their place. It's a science. We use it to learn about things. When you object to Economics as a whole, you sound like a creationist ("Biology is wrong!"). When you object to the use of it to study something, you sound like an uninformed luddite ("Hey man, you can't study emotions with neuroscience, they're like, part of your spirit."). Just so we're clear on that.

You are welcome to dislike economists individually (or in general, if you are into being closed minded), you are welcome to disagree with the construction of an economic model or the interpretation of economic data. You can doubt the relevance of an economic analysis. But please, can we stop deriding the field of study as a whole? It is not out to get you, so everyone just calm down.

*It's been a while since The Man showed up around here. I'll have to work on that.

One of the curious aspects of General Musharraf's speech last night [...] was the general's thoroughly un-self-conscious invocation of two major threats to the security and integrity of Pakistan: terrorism and "judicial activism." It did not seem to occur to the general that, to some observers, even flawed or over-reaching attempts by duly constituted bodies to uphold the law might not be
equivalent to mass murder. Judging by the General's actions, judicial activism is a much more sinister and immediate threat than terrorism, as all of his actions since yesterday have targeted the former rather than the latter. Indeed Musharraf's agents managed to pirate the codes to prevent Geo TV from uploading its programs to satellite, while Maulana Fazlullah's FM station in Swat continues to broadcast calls for jihad without impediment.

Rubin also links to Andy Borowitz's version of events:

In what he described as “an emergency mission to help a key ally in the war on terror,” President George W. Bush flew to Islamabad today to give General Pervez Musharraf tips on how to eliminate democracy.Speaking to reporters aboard Air Force One, Mr. Bush said that while he commended General Musharraf’s impulse to eliminate democratic institutions, he felt that the military strongman was going about it the wrong way: “When you’re getting rid of democracy, the last thing
you want to do is tell people you’re doing it.”

Beyond their inherent wrongness, what I find distressing about Musharraf's actions, and those of the military regime in Burma, and all of the other messy, awful things that people in power are inflicting on their constituencies in other places, is that in them you can see how neoconservatism came about in the first place. (The Fukuyama version, not the Cheney version). Because Musharraf is not responding to diplomacy, he's manipulating it. He's taking advantage of the U.S.'s misguided War on Terror to consolidate his own power, much the way the last round of US installed dictators used the Cold War. So it becomes very tempting to think "well, if we just smack him with a two-by-four and install a democracy, everything will be okay."

Not that I endorse the neocon worldview in the least, and they're obviously part of the problem right now. But the exasperation that stuff like this causes gives you some idea of how they came about in the first place. And that just makes me nervous.