Thoughts Upon Hearing of Falwell's Death

1) "Boy, he sure will be surprised when he doesn't end up in heaven!"

2) "Wait, that was kind of mean. Mean = bad." :(

3) reads in memoriam Jerry Falwell

4) "O, phew. Mean = normal person reaction." :)


Possible least convincing argument against atheism ever: "Atheists will go to hell (where hell = the place that [name of prominent Christian conservative leader] is not.)"

Georgette Heyer

I was turned on to Georgette Heyer, iirc, by a comment thread over on Making Light. I love romance novels, both modern and ancient (took a class on the topic once, so part of my degree is given for reading a Harlequin Presents novel), so I immediately went to the library and read every book of hers I could find.

She is so awesome.

My favorites:

1) The Grand Sophy

2) Devil's Cub (and it's prequel, These Old Shades)

3) Venetia

4) Sylvester, or, the Wicked Uncle

5) All the rest of them.

There's a good review of Devil's Cub at the Smart Bitches that makes a compelling argument for more heroines shooting people in romance novels.

Daisy Miller, WTF?

Dear Henry James:

Please leave off the crack cocaine*, crazy man, k thanx.

Luv,
Rose


*Seriously, she just dies? That's it? I feel so gypped**.

**Gilmore Girls has totally misled me with their obscure literature references***, thus causing me to become bitter and jaded. Thanks a lot, Rory.

***In the Season Five opener.

French Women Don't Get Intimidated by the Patriarchy

At least, not if they're Simone de Beauvoir. I just started reading The Second Sex (and by just I mean, on my lunch break, ergo, the introduction) and I am already blown away by her prose style. In a good way. I've had this on my immediate "To Read" shelf for over a year and have been avoiding it because it is a fat, smart book. I remember trying to read Ethics of Ambiguity and Being and Nothingness and totally failing. Proof positive that I am smarter now than I was in high school.

I suppose the college education I've gotten in the meantime was good for something after all. (Now if only I could make it be good for something profitable, I'd be all set.)

Very interesting post on The Valve about the future of humanities scholarship, the academic press, tenure, and alternative media (a.k.a. the InterWebs). A taste:

It’s worth beginning with a somewhat prior question about the future of the academic book, however: whether the fetishization of the monograph as the gold standard of publishing in the humanities is misguided in and of itself, not simply in the ways that such an obsessive focus obscures other worthy forms of scholarship (most notably the article), but also in its failure to recognize that the book might simply not be the best form for scholarly communication in the first place. Not long ago, I overheard a colleague tell a student that scholarly books are not meant to be read but rather consulted. If this is how we consume research in the humanities—read the book’s introduction for the overall argument; read the chapter that most clearly applies to our own questions for the detailed analysis—then is the production of the book itself no more than a vanity?

Read "On the Future of Academic Publishing, Peer Review, and Tenure Requirements"

Heretofore Believed Impossible...

Ugh. I never thought it could happen but it did: I had a Bad Yarn Store experience. I've recently moved to a small suburb southwest of Boston and haven't been yarn-shopping here yet; usually I visit a store first, just to browse, familairize myself with the options, and--most impotantly--to see if its the kind of place I feel comfortable giving my money too. But I really needed sock yarn for Xmas presents, so I thought "what the hell" and went for it.

My first impression? Small. Small and messy. Now, small is not necessarily a problem--in high-population areas space is at a premium, and I've been to some yarn stores where small=cozy [Halifax, NS]. As for messy, people who live in glass houses should learn to live with stangers looking at their underwear. Or something. So I begin my meander--quick past the novelty yarns I have no interest in, slow past natural fibers (ok, that takes care of two of the three walls)--and soon find myself in front of the sock yarn, negotiating a little for space with a woman, her stroller, and a cute little girl who is obviously not a knitter, and impatient. There is a lot of sock yarn. Good! Half the skeins don't have ball bands. Bad! It's ok, I'm looking for 100g balls of Regia self-striping wool/nylon, which is not too hard to spot.

My first real twinge comes with the huffing of two older women waiting at the register. They're not getting service, not yelling "dude, I need service" (dirty!), and not happy about it. Clearly there needs to be a bell. They eventually tear a woman I assume is the shop-owner away from the knitting group table. Oh? I didn't mention that half the space in the store was filled by a big table and assorted knitters? It was. The ladies make their purchases while I finish comparing colors and grab a set of DPNs (my other set is in some other socks) and get in line behind another customer, who is buying Patons yarn.

I wait. And wait some more because the only thing computerized at the "register" is the credit card swiper (and I'm sure that if Visa would allow it, that would be gone too). The "register" is a calculater and a pad of paper. Still, I am thinking good thoughts because I know it is very hard for old people to get help with the technology. It might have helped if the counter hadn't been buried in miscellaneous papers, books, and lotion displays--at the very least it would have prevented the woman's yarn from rolling onto the floor every five seconds. I make chitchat with the "register" lady and the customer about my sock yarn, which I am making up for my grandmother. Isn't that nice?

Then I discover the power of becoming invisible.

During the ten minutes it has taken for the purchase of four skeins of Patons wool/acrylic, Woman-with-stroller-and-child (WWSAC) has made her decision and come into the line. The "register" lady has asked WWSAC about her sister, and when she finishes sending the Patons into the world, asks WWSAC, "Are you in a hurry?" Why yes, yes she is; the little girl is starting to yell and she has to meet someone... Well then, "register" lady will just ring her up quick.

Neither of them look at me, standing with my Regia and needles. They chat about a difficult pattern WWSAC has been knitting. I want to throw the yarn on the ground and walk off, but I can't--too polite, or too scared.

Suddenly, all those little negatives I noticed before and brushed off come roaring back, ten times their original size. I didn't mind waiting; I had no place to be; I absolutely want to keep small children from having tantrums in small stores--but I was shocked and hurt by the breach of what I consider common courtesy. Acknowledgement is the very least we owe other people; I felt like a non-entity. Later, I tried to decide: Was it because I was a newcomer? The other women had obviously known each other a while. Maybe because my purchase was small: socks are not sweaters. But I think it was because I am young and I said the yarn was a gift. They saw me and didn't hear "gift I am making"--they heard "not a knitter." As everyone knows from the newspaper, young knitters buy novelty yarns to make fashion scarves. Except that I don't have to: my grandmother has knit over 80 of those this year, which frees up my time for knitting lace shawls, cabled sweaters. And socks.

I hope WWSAC calmed her daughter down and made it to her appointment on time--I won't know, though, because I'm never going near that yarn store again.

Gainful Employment

After much too long a time of sitting on my ass, singing "What Do You Do With a B.A. In English/It Sucks to Be Me", I have entered into employment with a big corporate bookstore. Hooray for paychecks!