Substance

I was intrigued to read Elle magazine's coverage of the Gonzales decision. It was encouraging to find some actual substance in a fashion magazine.

A few favorite snippets (although I found all of it worth a read):

From Gloria Feldt:

The fierce antichoice backlash that erupted when Roe was decided crested with the recent Gonzales decision. The ruling's language drips with such disrespect for women that Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg charged it "reflects ancient notions about women's place."

Yet in the 34 years since Roe, I've been shocked to observe that some of these ancient notions still remain. As president and CEO of Planned Parenthood Federation of America for nearly a decade until 2005, I repeatedly saw how men's and women's support of the right to a safe, legal abortion wavered according to the extent to which they considered a woman to be in control of her own life. If she's a victim of rape or incest, about 75 percent approve of the procedure, according to Gallup. But only a little more than one third approve when the woman or family say they can't afford to raise the child. Ask if the decision should be between a woman and her doctor, and around 60 percent agree; ask whether the woman alone merits the freedom to make that choice, and far fewer do.

At first I thought: How little trust people have in women's moral capacity to make decisions! Then I realized the idea of women having the power to decide is what sticks in craws. When women are victims, "ancient notions" aren't disrupted. When we exercise our volitional powers over procreation and thus our own lives, we profoundly upset the ancient gender applecart.

And from Ann Crittenden, an excellent critique of Kennedy's "reasoning":

So, he rules, we'll spare you all that grief and sorrow by deciding you can't have a partial-birth abortion (if your state so decides), even though there was substantial testimony from medical experts and groups, such as the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, that this now potentially criminal form of second-trimester abortion is sometimes safer for women than other forms. This is for your own good, of course.

Where have we heard this before? You are too mentally challenged to master the rigors of a higher education, so we'll keep you out of universities for your own good. You are too gentle for the rough-and-tumble world of business, so we'll keep you out of the high-paying professions for your own good. You don't understand complicated political issues, so we'll spare you the confusion of voting, for your own good. You are too frail for competitive sports, so we'll keep you from running or swimming or discovering your body's capabilities, for your own good. And now paternalism's last stand is over motherhood. You don't know when you are ready to become a mother; whether you are suited to become a mother; what to do when something has gone dreadfully wrong with your pregnancy. So you can't decide.

When your parents tell you something is for your own good, it usually means something unpleasant, like eating your spinach or getting a shot. When grown men tell grown women something is for their own good, it's usually something imprisoning. As Justice Ginsburg put it in her magnificent dissent, "[T]he Court deprives women of the right to make an autonomous choice, even at the expense of their safety."

And from Francine Prose, aptly named, as she brings some *much needed* attention to the rhetoric of the anti-choice decision:

If the language of Roe v. Wade is emotionally sympathetic and articulate, the language of Gonzales v. Carhart, the recent Supreme Court decision upholding the federal ban of partial-birth abortion, can be as crude and bloody-minded as that of a slasher film. Tellingly, the first "woman" we hear about in the ruling is not consciously facing the difficult dilemma of whether to terminate a pregnancy. In fact, she is unconscious, anesthetized so that the doctor (there are no "obstetricians" here, but only "doctors" and "abortion doctors") can perform a cruel and terrifying procedure. "The friction causes the fetus to tear apart....a leg might be ripped off the fetus…."

The appalling clinical descriptions and gross details go on for pages. "'The baby's little fingers were clasping and unclasping….'" The language, the terminology, and the focus are so inflammatory and mercilessly sensational that, at times, you almost feel that Justice Anthony Kennedy, who authored the majority decision, is taking a perverse pleasure in the horrors he is describing. We hear about "the life of the unborn" and "the life within the woman," but not once about the life of the woman. Indeed, the most important—the only important—thing about her life is its potential for motherhood. ("Respect for human life finds an ultimate expression in the bond of love the mother has for her child.") Her cervix and uterus are mentioned, but never her brain, which can make an informed choice...

The great irony is that this new ruling, so perfectly in accord with the "right-to-life" position, is so intensely focused on and written entirely in the language of violent death; whereas Roe v. Wade is all about life: its complexities and quandaries, its hardships and hopes, the rocks and the hard places that any of us may be caught between when we find ourselves at the raw edges of human existence.

New routines

The big news of the last week and a half: I've moved! Just down the hall. But I have twice as many windows and (finally) room for a papasan chair. I moved nearly the entire studio myself while Andrew was working -- took a day and a half, wheeling everything back and forth on my desk chair. And then cleaning the old apartment (which apparently *still* wasn't good enough for EV, they're charging me for cleaning... which isn't I suppose *that* bad considering I would have been charged twice as much to move if I wasn't a CA. That is, if I were allowed to move at all). The bad news about the cleaning fees spurred me to action today: I bought Mrs. Meyer geranium scrubbing powder, and a daily "shower spray" to maintain it. While I was pondering the various products at Mollie Stone's, this old, grandfatherly gentleman got into a conversation with me. And I decided to go with it -- he clearly wanted to chat, and it was nice to feel like I did something, well, at the risk of being redundant, nice. He was concerned about my catching the sales on bananas, not spending too much while I'm in school, finding Jesus (which for me translated into, having faith in the world), and staying in the graduate program. Back home, I scrubbed the already quite clean new tub, rinsed, and spritzed, just to smell the geranium. It kind of makes me *want* to clean.

Other news... A week ago (Monday) Rachel & I met up with Andrew for lunch. Such good, creative vegetarian food. Black quinoa, blueberries in balsamic vinagrette, salad with nectarine, etc. And oatmeal chocolate bars to die for. Which I later recreated at home after finally finding a recipe online that called for "only" two sticks of butter (well, and a bag of chocolate chips. And a can of condensed milk...). But so good!

Invited people over for a "studio warming" over the weekend -- we had said chocolate oatmeal bars & fruit for dessert, and Andrew made our drink-of-the-evening, cherry lime rickys (gin, muddled cherries and sugar, lime juice, ice, and mint). After spending so much time moving, shopping for food, and generally spending time by myself, it was lovely to see everyone and catch up.

I've been keeping up with my reading better than with my Rosetta Stone French. I finished New Grub Street, read The Handmaid of Desire for fun (Ryan's recommendation: it's a "wickedly" hilarious fictionalized account of the Stanford English dept), and today started The Red and the Black. So far, so good.

I'll have to post pictures of the apartment... For now, back to The U.S. vs John Lennon.

Saturday morning cartoons

By Tony Auth.

Out of touch like its 1789

Bush on health care:

"The immediate goal is to make sure there are more people on private insurance plans. I mean, people have access to health care in America. After all, you just go to an emergency room."

Yes. You just go to an emergency room. The most inefficient health care in terms of both time and cost.

And I was thinking, this kind of reminds me of... and then I stumbled upon it in the comments at Pandagon:

"Let them eat cake."

Summer days

It's been a while since my last update -- mostly because it seems like all the days start to flow into one another. I've been doing a bit of Rosetta Stone, a bit of reading, a bit of watching Degrassi with Andrew (his new favorite show), etc. I tried a couple of podcast yoga workouts, and am thinking about getting a mat and getting back into it. I've read Mansfield Park -- which I think is the most useful (for me) of Austen's novels. And I've started some of the reading I didn't have time for last summer -- Raymond William's Country and the City, and Gissing's New Grub Street. And I've booked my first trip abroad *ever*: I'll be doing a language study program in Montreux, Switzerland, from August 26th to Sept. 10th. Exciting!

So that's what I've been up to, in a nutshell.

Except for last weekend, which deserves its own paragraph. Andrew's father came out to visit us on the Fourth, and we gave him the tour of campus and downtown Palo Alto (which was complicated by the recent fire, which made a building unstable, thus rerouting all of traffic, both vehicles and pedestrians). We ended up at this random Thai restaurant on the Fourth, hung out at my new favorite coffee shop, and then took a Whole Foods picnic dinner to the Googleplex to wait for fireworks. We waited for hours for a 10-15 minute display -- which was nice, but after seeing the Boston display, it's hard to be impressed. Thursday morning I met up with Andrew's father for tea & breakfast at the Stanford bookstore, then we wandered around campus until it was time to have lunch with Andrew. In the afternoon, we read in the Bender Room of the library, and then met up with Andrew for dinner -- falafel followed by the movie "Once" at the Aquarius. Recommended. Friday I had some free time to do my thing -- Farmer's market, groceries, reading, etc... Then we all went to Three Seasons for a huge dinner (I tried to warn them, but they just kept ordering more). Saturday we headed into the city and took the ferry to Tiburon (it passes by Alcatraz & stops at Angel Island on the way), where we met up with Rachel, Josh, and the baby. Yummy lunch at Sam's, wandering around downtown, ferrying back... then Andrew's sporadic complaints of not feeling well solidified into downright sickness. I made a batch of soup, while he slept... he had a headache and fever, so we assumed a flu-like virus... Sunday he and his father still insisted on the Santa Cruz trip, so Andrew huddled in the backseat, cringing with every bump, and feverish in the sun. It wasn't until Monday, when he was too incapacitated to go to work and called a nurse, that we realized he had been suffering from food poisoning. After this diagnosis, we were able to actually start treating the problem. He's still on a "version" of the BRAT diet. His personal interpretation thereof.

Luckily he's much better now.

Pleasure reading

So my first pleasure read that has nothing explicitly to do with my studies/research: The God Delusion, by Richard Dawkins. And I *loved* it. A logical & humorous look at the arguments for and against the presence of a higher power, with a sampling of various approaches (physics, morality, history, theology, literature, etc.). I kept reading parts aloud to Andrew (often much to his annoyance). Dawkins just confirmed everything I suspected, but never articulated...

Some of my favorite bits:

"I am not in favour of offending or hurting anyone just for the sake of it. But I am intrigued and mystified by the disproportionate privileging of religion in our otherwise secular societies. All politicians must get used to disrespectful cartoons of their faces, and nobody riots in their defence. What is so special about religion that we grant it such uniqely privileged respect? As H. L. Mencken said: 'We must respect the other fellow's religion, but only in the sense and to the extent that we respect his theory that his wife is beautiful and his children smart.'" - 27

"How many literalists have read enough of the Bible to know that the death penalty is prescribed for adultery, for gathering sticks on the sabbath and for cheeking your parents? If we reject Deuteronomy and Leviticus (as all enlightened moderns do), by what criteria do we then decide which of religion's moral values to *accept*? Or should we pick and choose among all the world's religions until we find one whose moral teaching suits us? If so, again we must ask, by what criterion do we choose? And if we have independent criteria for choosing among relgious moralities, why not cut out the middle man and go straight for the moral choice without the religion?" - 57

Not Dawkins, but quoting Sam Harris's Letter to a Christian Nation, which I *clearly* need to read: "It should be blindingly obvious that beliefs of this sort [that the second coming will occur with a disaster] will do little to help us create a durable future for ourselves -- socially, economically, environmentally, or geopolitically. Imagine the consequences if any significant component of the U.S. government actually believed that the world was about to end and that its ending would be *glorious.* The fact that nearly half of the American population apparently believes this, purely on the basis of religious dogma, should be considered a moral and intellectual emergency." - 302

"As long ago as 1954, according to Robert Hinde in his thoughtful book Why Gods Persist, a Gallup Poll in the U.S. found the following. Three-quarters of Catholics and Protestants could not name a single Old Testament prophet. More than two-thirds didn't know who preached the Sermon on the Mount. A substantial number thought that Moses was one of Jesus's twelve apostles. That, to repeat, was in the U.S., which is dramatically more religious than other parts of the developed world." - 341

In total agreement: "The King James Bible of 1611 -- the Authorized Version -- includes passages of outstanding literary merit in its own right, for example the Song of Songs, and the sublime Ecclesiastes... But the main reason the English Bible needs to be part of our education is that it is a major source book for literary culture." - 341

"Does religion fill a much needed gap? It is often said that there is a God-shaped gap in the brain which needs to be filled: we have a psychological need for God -- imaginary friend, father, big brother, confessor, confidant -- and the need has to be satisifed whether God really exists or not. But could it be that God clutters up a gap that we'd be better off filling with something else? Science, perhaps? Art? Human friendship? Humanism? Love of this life in the real world, giving no credence to other lives beyond the grave? A love of nature, or what the great entomologist E. O. Wilson has called Biophilia?" - 347

" 'Tell me,' the great twentieth-century philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein once asked a friend, 'why do people always say it was natural for man to assume that the sun went round the Earth rather than that the Earth was rotating?' His friend replied, 'Well, obviously because it just *looks* as though the Sun is going round the Earth.' Wittgenstein responded, 'Well, what would it have looked like if it had looked as though the Earth was rotating?' I sometimes quote this remark of W. in lectures, expecting the audience to laugh. Instead, they seem stunned into silence." - 367

Oregon Recap

I've been back in California for three days now, with no clear schedule/agenda, and since I find myself in my room with nothing terribly pressing to do, I thought it was as good a time as any to update.

I flew up to Oregon on the 16th (after an hour of sitting in a hot plane, waiting for a mysterious "mechanical problem" to resolve itself), met with the family, and had a nostalgic dinner at Shari's. I was almost in a student-produced play about Shari's in high school. Almost. It was never actually performed. But that's another story.

Spent the first couple of days catching up, visiting at Grammy's, & grading papers. The first night we had the grand "weigh in" -- in which the whole family ends up on the scale, in order (I think) to reconcile our sense of everyone having changed since the last visit, by finding tangible, concrete numbers. Seriously, this isn't the first time. I'd lost weight while teaching PWR, and Mer gained some as she took a weight training class. Always hilarious. But Mer is still trying to steal my clothes.

Monday we headed into Portland for dinner at Old Town Pizza with Dad & Mer's friend, Charlie. Good beer, good pizza, and good conversation. Charlie and Dad got along... perfectly. We had quite a bit of time to kill after dinner, as a concert that Charlie was into didn't actually start till 10 pm. So we wandered around a shady park, window shopped, visited Powell's (yay Gissing novels!), and ate cake in the car (almost like tailgating). The concert, as Mer aptly describes it, was experimental -- Nintendo controllers were used. And a very smelly fog machine (boo).

Tuesday Mom, Mer, & I went hiking on Lookout Mt. Unfortunately Merrie made off with all the photos and is now in Africa, so I won't be able to post any visual evidence till Sept. But it was beautiful -- 360 degree view, easy to see the lay of the land and the mountains: Hood (of course), Adams, Rainier, Jefferson, St. Helen, the Three Sisters, etc... Bugs out in force, but not mosquitoes, luckily. After mountain goating it up to the peak, it was a pretty easy descent. Made it into town almost in time for Mer's appointment. I bought hiking/jogging shoes & comfy flip flops, finally. Then we were off to the DMV for new licenses: Mer because hers was horribly outdated (it still listed her weight as like, 75 pounds). And mine needed an update after expiring on my birthday while I was at Stanford -- so I'd been using the "Valid without photo" license that I requested, in conjunction with my older one. And which always gets me stopped at the airport, bars, etc. In fact, at the Someday Lounge on Monday night, the woman checking ID's disappeared with both my ID's for a full 5-10 minutes, after which I showed her my college ID, bank card, credit cards, etc., -- and her response? "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." WTF?! Oh, and I'm now an organ donor. On the spot, I said yes. But just for the record: I'm fine with my organs going to others if they can be harvested, but *don't let them take the top layer of my skin, or my corneas* -- it's illogical, but I have an extreme aversion to thinking of my body being literally peeled (even if I can't feel it). So just in case it comes up, organs yes, skin/eyes, no.

Anyway, after the DMV experience, we got iced mochas at Dog River. Best things ever. Especially with whipped cream. Quick stop home for dinner, then cleaning with Mum & stopping at the Mid Valley Market for candy (old times).

Weds. we took a Lost Lake trip -- picnicked on sandwiches from The Good Deli lakeside, and Mum and I hiked up the I think Blueberry Ridge trail -- basically the connector between Lost Lake & the Pacific Crest Trail. Beautiful -- avalanche lilies everywhere. Made me want to do the Pacific Crest (at least parts of it). Mer started out with us, but turned back at some point.

Thursday was another town day -- last minute errands for Mer (including a health clinic stop at which I become increasingly frustrated: people are so wrapped up in their own red tape), and meeting up with Dad & Uncle Scott for a yummy dinner at The Crazy Pepper. They now have veggie tamales (yum), but Mer and I agreed that we should have gone for veggie burritos instead of cheese enchiladas: seriously, gross. Just tortillas, filled with tons of cheddar cheese, topped with sauce, and, you guessed it, MORE CHEESE.

Friday involved more hiking: this time exploring a trail off of Laurence Lake, that connects to the around the mountain trail. Forested, pretty, and still snowed in at points. Which is why we turned back before reaching the trail junction: cold, melting drifts of icy snow that made it difficult to pick up the trail. I was not dressed warmly enough. Ended up huddling on a log, eating sunflower seeds, prunes, and rhubarb pie.

Saturday: Mer & I took a walk along the ditch and ran into a nasty old pitbull mix. Someone had the bright idea to leave an aggressive, unneutered, violence-prone breed dog uncontained, unleashed, and with access to a trail frequented by local folks of all ages. Seriously, before it maims a child, someone needs to get said dog neutered, tethered, and trained. That experience more than anything else makes me want to start carrying a hunting knife or something.

One more trip into town, visit with Dad, last minute errands, and then home for dinner (venison pot roast: which was excellent) & cake. Lindsey visited, and I so loved catching up finally! Now I just need to get back in the habit of writing real letters.

Sunday was busy, with Mer packing, me taking a jog along the ditch for old time's sake, and Mum & I visiting the Punch Bowl briefly for one last dose of Oregon natural beauty (and quiet, and solitude -- things lacking here in the Bay Area). Then we were off to Portland, with a stop at the NY Sub place for dinner (favorite). Had fun at the hotel -- Mum & I swam, I hung out listening to music and eating cake, and Mer visited with Charlie. Unfortunately we didn't sleep well -- too many people in one room, with a noisy dog, and an out of control thermostat.

I had a nice flight home, despite getting up at 3:45 am. Above the clouds, Mt. Hood was peaking out, and I was able to see other neighboring mountains/lakes clearly along our route. Made it back without trouble... unpacked, napped, etc.

Since then, I've been catching up on cleaning, watching Degrassi (thanks to Mer lending me her DVDs of Season 4), and spending time with Andrew. Tuesday we went to Trivia Night at the Rose and Crown bar, and had the chance to catch up with Wisconsin folks who were in the area for a conference. Last night we had an Ikea/ Trader Joe's night -- I now have glass storage jars so that my bread/dough/biscuit creations will *stop* tasting like my cupboards.

That's the update --

The Rhetoric of: Thompson

Shorter Thompson:

Look, here's my wife & little kids! Aren't they cute? Ok, scoot off, I've got *business* now (which y'all know women don't need to be a part of, it's not like we're going to talk about *them* at all).

I'm against abortion [no reason given besides something about "life" that apparently doesn't include women's lives]. I'm against partial-birth abortion [even though I *clearly* don't understand that this procedure saves women's lives when a pregnancy goes wrong].

I'm against embryonic stem cell research [because of "life"? apparently not the lives of people with diseases. but let's ignore that those embryos will get thrown out anyway! let's call them "unborn children" instead of freezer burnt embryos!]

I care about children! [because my opponents don't? And I bet you were waiting for something about the millions of uninsured children? Like I'd even think of that, much less *mention* it.]

I'm worried about government spending! [and you all should trust a former lobbyist to cut government spending while actually caring about public programs?]

LOOK, TERRORISTS! [Had to fit that in somewhere]

Is it over?

My new flexi- pesca- tarian motto. From Natalie Dee.



It's been ungodly hot. 103 degrees yesterday.

The quarter is over -- although I'm *definitely* still working on grading.

Minimal cooking lately. Saturday Andrew & I found the hole-in-the-wall (seriously) that is Brown Rice Sushi. It was good. The mountain yam sushi seemed like jicama to me though. And my plum leaf-avocado-cucumber rolls were missing the actual, you know, plum leaf. But it was intriguingly sweet. Next time I want to try the straight plum rolls. Sunday we did the CA Ave. farmer's market. Tues. was the CA pizza/ice cream dinner (or as Jill aptly put it, the 5-year-old's birthday menu). Met one of our new co-CA's, who seems great. Then Weds. was the quals meeting for the first years -- so we of the quals committee procured & arranged snacks (for the actual meeting) and dinner (for the informal meeting with us afterwards). Arranging berries & picking out salads: *incredibly* concrete and fulfilling activities.

Yesterday, however, was the culmination of not-cooking. Jill & I had lunch with the "retiring" Review Club chairs at the Museum Cafe (beautiful salad...pickled beets & eggs, asparagus & radishes) -- I think we have a pretty good idea of the timeline and major expectations for next year. And the summer projects!

After a bit more work in the afternoon... Jill & I went to "the google" for dinner with Andrew. It was ridiculously amazing. "Passion" fish, red pepper & nectarine saute, polenta, nectarine & mint infused water... We were trying to figure out what skills we could use to get a job at Google.

Movies lately: The Science of Sleep (trippy but beautiful), Why We Fight (Mum-recommended: excellent and sobering), Maxed Out (still halfway through: but so far, an interesting look into credit card debt in the US).

A Modest Proposal

After this foot-in-mouth moment, brought to us by NYT:

NASA administrator Michael D. Griffin said Friday that he regretted having sparked a furor last week when, in an interview with National Public Radio, he said he was not sure climate change “is a problem we must wrestle with.”

I've come upon a novel idea. I think it will solve all our problems with the political ramifications of global warming.

Everyone who doesn't believe global warming is happening, or that it's not something we should worry about, or that, you know, it's not nearly as important as the latest news on Paris's stay in prison (this last being the catch-all for the most apathetic among us) --

All of you, move to the coastlines.

The rest of us? We're taking the highlands.

Work & Adventure

Very busy couple of weeks (hence the lack of updates). Andrew arrived on the 19th, and we had a good weekend -- a studio brunch, Canadian bbq, catching up. The Canadian bbq was hilarious: they served us (I kid you not) french fries, which were sprinkled with cheese curds, and liberally drizzled with gravy. I told Steve (our Canadian host) that they could totally make up a ridiculous "national dish" and serve it to us, relying upon our ignorance of Canadian cuisine. Steve assures me that the french fry/ cheese curd/ gravy mixture is actually the real deal: I still have my doubts.

The usual work week followed. Then a lovely Memorial Day weekend (which partially made up for the fact that I didn't make it to Reunion). On Friday night I "helped" at the Raines BBQ extravaganza, and Andrew joined me after he was done at the Google. Listened to the music, drank the beer, watched the "beach" volleyball competition.

Saturday we had a fantastic hike at Stinson Beach. We made a 7+ mile hike through a series of stages/ landscapes: 1) climbing up switchbacks in an old forest with massive fern growth, and an impressive population of slugs, 2) bursting out into a hilly meadow a la The Sound of Music, insanely blue sky with misting clouds traveling over the hills, 3) leveling out along fir tree forested areas, drier than stage 1, 4) hurrying across the highway to take a mellow descent along a stream with a series of little waterfalls, in a background that reminded me (and Andrew agreed) of the sort of foliage you expect on a Discovery Channel special with digitally rendered dinosaurs stalking about, 5) passing an old dam and coming out upon the coastal landscape, all low shrubs and within sight of the beach, where we were warned by fellow hikers that someone had seen a mountain lion, and that we should keep talking and making noise, although Andrew & I were more prone to call "here, kitty kitty" (until we saw a couple of deer: then we figured *they* could be the bait).

I discovered that Andrew stops complaining that he's tired around mile 5.

After the hike, we came home briefly & then had Andrew's belated birthday dinner at the cheesecake factory (yay tuxedo cheesecake!).

Sunday was also busy: Mountain View farmer's market (so many peaches, nectarines, apricots, strawberries...), reading on the beach at Half Moon Bay, short appearance at the cohort bbq, fried rice adventure back home, etc.

Monday we ran some errands & then went to Berkeley for a Memorial Day bbq with Rachel, Josh, and the new baby. Who is ridiculously cute. And is learning how to hold things. And has the best nursery room *ever.*

Another work week... I had all 15 of my student conferences, while trying to find the time to read all their papers & comment (oh yes, and also trying to fit in my own reading, an 800 page George Eliot novel, and various books of the Bible).

And another fantastic weekend: Saturday morning we got up at a time that, in my opinion, is more appropriate for just getting to bed at, rather than just waking at. 3:30 am. And waited in the dark for our Super Shuttle, which got us on our flight to Minneapolis. First stop with the rental car: The Mall of America! Yes it is huge. Yes there is a "park" in the center, and basically an indoor, year round fair. Wandered around a while, finally chose a pair of sandals from Nordstrom's to go with my dress, and ate at Wolfgang Puck's, where I was pleasantly surprised by the food (considering it's mall food): grilled veggie sandwich (good), tuscan minestrone soup (decent), and bread (amazing: at first I made fun of their giving me some more starch to go along with my other two starches, but I shut up after tasting it).

Then we quickly got ready for the wedding, which was gorgeous. In the unique Memorial Center -- rounded contour with irregularly placed windows (Andrew says it could be a modern synagogue). The ceremony was short and sweet, with a pretty chuppah (gauzy white cloth, gathered at the front two corners with bouquets), and a well integrated Lutheran & Jewish dynamic (it seemed to go back and forth: from candle lighting to rings to breaking the glass). Reception in another room, which was decorated with live grass, candles, and a beautiful chocolate frosted cake. Then back to the outer room, which was now a dining room & ballroom: table centerpieces very Midsummer Night's Dream -- tree branches hung with candles. Yummy dinner (strawberry & mandarin orange salad, I had the fish with rice and grilled veggies) and decadent wedding cake. Then a little dancing, with me getting stepped on three or four times (and only half of those by Andrew, somehow everyone near us manages to step on my feet), and then our taking off since we were pretty exhausted. Sunday we had a hell of a time finding a place to eat brunch, and finally ended up at an adorable bakery, called Cupcake. Would have been perfect if they didn't run out of oatmeal right before I ordered. Got some way too sweet crepes (raspberry cream cheese filling, smothered with raspberry jam, and sprinkled with sugar), which Andrew chivalrously returned for me, in exchange for a more neutral fruit cup. We did get some cupcakes to go, and a delicious loaf of multigrain bread, which I'm still working on.

After: the Minneapolis art musuem. I spent the most time in the Blake exhibit, with his illustrations of the Book of Job. The runner up: Psychadelic SF concert posters & 60's musician photos.

Then a short walk in the sculpture garden (what's up with the white spoon, holding a cherry, fountaining water over itself?).

Then more of the mall, which made me feel frustrated, since I just wanted a quiet place to read Daniel Deronda.

Then Ikea for french fries (my thinking process: craving for french fries, but who would most likely not fry them in trans fat? my answer, the Swedes!)

Then a wild ride to return the rental car.

Then a triple shot latte.

Then 3.5 hours of Daniel Deronda while on the plane.

Followed by an hour of waiting for the Super Shuttle, which it turns out, is neither super, nor very good at shuttling. Our prepay reservation wasn't honored, so we had to go with a different van, after waiting around for an hour (during which I kept reading D.D.). Speeding along the highways at an illegal clip. Finally at home: 1:15 am. Shower, reading response, more reading, finally in bed after 3 am.

Craziness.

Managed to finish D.D. (all 810 pages) before class... final reading group meeting at the Treehouse... picking up bakery goodness from Andronico's... getting Adela's help to serve our residents chocolate cake, cheesecake, hazelnut-chocolate cake, mocha cake, fruit tarts, mousse cups, fresh berries, etc. Cleaning of the apartment with Andrew. Finally reading some of the Book of Revelations.

Today was also busy, with Jill's birthday lunch, getting yet more bakery goodness & fruit for my students, watching The Shining (which, when not edited for TV, contains a number of scenes with racial & gender politics that I wish we could have discussed further, but we already were 30 minutes over the end of class), and going to the final Bible class. Where my hunch was confirmed: the Book of Revelations is the crazy.

I feel like I just exhaled a huge breath.

Some day I'll have pictures to post from Andrew's better-than-mine camera.

Banana slugs

I went on the EV hiking trip to Sam McDonald today, which is basically in La Honda. It was sunny at Stanford, but incredibly misty in La Honda (the hills are often covered with fog). Strange weather: it was misting, but almost raining under the trees, which seemed to attract and collect precipitation. I finally found the haven of the banana slugs: I must have seen at least fifty. And salamanders (or what are they Mer, orange bellied newts?). And millipedes. And some people with horses. Not very crowded, which was nice.



Back here... I've been cleaning house in preparation for Andrew arriving tonight, and grading some papers. Guess I'll get back to that!

Weekends

The weekend before last I felt like being domestic. I mopped. Made a large batch of tortilla soup. Baked a rhubarb pie. Baked cornbread. Did laundry. Spruced up my closet.

It was also pretty beautiful out -- I managed to sit outside for a few hours Sunday afternoon. Turned a bit pink.

Here's the rhubarb pie:



And this weekend I did no work. Friday I had student conferences. Then I did some reading, some relaxing in the evening. Saturday morning I headed into the city with Veronica. Had a great talk on the way, and we managed to find our way to Union Square to meet up with Jess. We spent nearly 3 hours in Forever 21 -- all three bright and glittering floors of it. I had nearly forgotten how lovely it is to shop with friends who browse and try on at the same pace. Then we refueled at Starbucks, and walked V. back to her car (sketchy area). Instead of heading back home to re-read Middlemarch, I ended up staying for dinner (Indian food!) with Jess, her bf, and his friend. Talked politics & food & stats & Hood River news. Some after dinner shopping, and then we headed back toward Palo Alto. It was 11:30 when I got back to my room, and I was feeling kind of tired, but Jess convinced me that indeed, we could get a second wind. Went to a party, where I was repeatedly hit on by a 20 year old. Who quickly left me alone after Jess's friend, N. (name witheld to protect the innocent) played along with Jess's "but she has a jealous boyfriend -- right -- over -- there!" and handed me a beer. Hilarious. El salvador, indeed!

Then I thought I'd go home, but instead, we ended up watching bits of Nightmare on Elm St. while listening to 80's music, and playing drinking games.

Woke up after noon on Sunday... and then I had a Desperate Housewives studio event to plan. After two shopping trips... reading in the sun... seeing people for the show... I finally sat down for some more Middlemarch. Somehow I did have time to skim it, re-read the chapters we were concentrating on, and read a significant portion of Leavis's Eliot chapter before Monday's class. Had a productive & fun reading group (in which we tried to come up with a theory of marriage plots in the U.S. & Britain during the 19th century).

Today was busy. Lunch with a job candidate (amazing), preparing for PWR, class (got through our example, though I think I could have done more; then the thesis wash, fueled by chocolate covered espresso beans), job talk, self-guided Bible class, Law & Order, baking a rhubarb crumble.

Here's the latest baking experience:

On "Convenience"

I've been sitting on this post for the last couple of weeks, ruminating. So without further ado, some thoughts on "convenience."

With the recent ban on the D & X abortion procedure that is typically used to save a woman's health and/or uterus from a doomed pregnancy, I've seen the word "convenience" thrown around quite a bit. You know, in the context of statistics showing that around 3-4% of abortions are done to save a woman's health and/or life, while higher percentages go to reasons such as: too young to have a family, no economic resources, no family support, would mean dropping out and losing chance to get an education, etc, etc. And these are, apparently, reasons that get grouped under the term of "convenience." In the famous words from The Princess Bride, I don't think that word means what you think it means. Convenience is walking to the market a block down the street instead of driving ten miles off to a shopping center. Or being able to buy both of your beloved Ben and Jerry's flavors in a single carton (it's called mixing brownie batter with cookie dough). Or that Grey's Anatomy is repeated on Fridays, just in case you missed it. It's not, however, a good word to describe a medical procedure (especially one as difficult to obtain as an abortion in this country) that prevents a more serious medical procedure (ie, sustained pregnancy and birth). We don't say, oh, I'm trying to get my body back from this flu virus "for convenience." Or, "it's so 'convenient' that I can drive a hundred miles to a clinic and walk through anti-choice protestors screaming that I'm a slut so that I can keep my minimum wage job and hopefully afford to buy my already very much alive kids food and clothes." Or, it's so "convenient" that I can wait to have children (despite my contraception failing) until I have a job and a life-partner. Or, it's so "convenient" that I can terminate this pregnancy before my abusive boyfriend finds out I was pregnant. I think the word "convenience" seriously undermines the moral decisions women make about their bodies and families.

I propose a new term.

Melamine

It's used in plastics and fertilizers. And it's the cause of the recent pet food recall. The NYT calls its use an "open secret" in China, dating back to the early '90s. Manufacturers -- with little to no sense of ethical responsibility -- add melamine to animal feed (rice, soy, wheat, corn) in order to artificially raise its protein content, thereby getting more money. This is what happens when you have a combination of human greed and little to no oversight or regulation. So melamine is in pet food, and we know it has been fed to livestock in the U.S. (pigs, chickens, God only knows what else). It's already in the human food chain at this point (people have eaten contaminated pork), and it has likely been so for many years. Right now I'm really glad I don't eat meat.

Only I'm not so sure these grain mixes from China haven't made their way into other products as well. This further confirms what I already believed: we should be eating local, organic when possible, and "whole" foods. And I don't mean "whole" as in, food that comes from an upscale market -- I mean whole as in, real food. Like vegetables and potatoes.

From the Huffington Post (which has a great, succinct write-up):
http://www2.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

"The practice is widespread in China," the Times reports, and has been going on "for years." And it is not just wheat, corn, rice and soybean proteins that should be suspect, but the animals who feed on it, including all imported Chinese pork, poultry, farm-raised fish, and their various by-products. Despite FDA and USDA efforts to allay concerns about consuming melamine-tainted meat, the health effects are unstudied, and the permissible level is zero. If China could impose a three-year (and counting) ban on the import of U.S. beef after a single incident of Mad Cow disease, then surely the U.S. would be justified in imposing a ban on Chinese vegetable protein and livestock products due to such a prevalent, industrywide contamination.

I agree: we should be banning these products *now.* The FDA has sat on their asses over this long enough. The day they knew, we should have known, and China should have known that until they self-regulate and can guarantee we aren't getting scrap melamine added to our food supply, we won't be importing *any* food products (for animal or human consumption) from the country.

I'm wondering now if Prissy -- who passed last October -- was an early victim of this practice.

I don't trust the FDA farther than I can throw 'em.

Shifted Burden of Proof

Finally, a well-designed study debunking the beloved anti-choice mythology that has attempted to link abortion with breast cancer. The previous studies that anti-choicers used weren't very good or very recent, but for some reason their fear-mongering was allowed to stand. And then we had to wait for science to prove, you know, that abortion doesn't cause breast cancer. It's what logicians like to call a shifted burden of proof. Thank God we've now shifted it back to its rightful place.

From the NYT (April 24th):

There is no association between abortion and an increased risk for breast cancer, scientists reported yesterday in a large study...

The possibility of such a link has been suggested by some retrospective studies — that is, studies that looked for a history of abortion in women who had already been given a diagnosis of breast cancer.

But such studies are subject to error caused by inaccurate reporting. Because of personal sensitivities and the stigma associated with the operation, healthy women may be reluctant to reveal that they have had an abortion, while those with breast cancer, seeking a cause for their illness, are more likely to report one.

This study, published in The Archives of Internal Medicine, tracked women prospectively to see if those who reported having abortions were more likely to develop breast cancer in the future. They were not.

“There are still some states that require women to be informed about the risk of breast cancer if they get an abortion,” said Karin Michels, the lead author and an associate professor of epidemiology at Harvard. “I think that may not be justified based on the current evidence.”

Change the "may" to "is" and I think we've got better policy. Cancer is scary. If we're going to be scared, let's at least be scared of the right things. If anti-choicers care about women's risk of breast cancer, they should slap those warning labels on red meat at the supermarket, not on abortions/miscarriages.

The scientists found no difference in breast cancer incidence between the women who had had spontaneous or induced abortions and those who had not. Breast cancer incidence did not differ among women who had had an induced or spontaneous abortion before or after their first birth, or who had had no abortion at all.

At the same time, the authors write, it is well established that a full-term pregnancy before age 35 does reduce the long-term risk for breast cancer. So it might be said that a pregnant woman who aborts increases her risk for breast cancer compared with what it would be if she carried the pregnancy to full term.

The article goes on to get Joel Brind's opinion on this study. At first I was like, huh, so this professor still seems really invested in finding a link between abortion and breast cancer. I wonder if there's something wrong with this study, despite the fact that other scientists go on to debunk much of Brind's criticism? And then I Googled the guy. Apparently he's an anti-choice, born again "Christian," who's mentioned on the infamous site "abortionbreastcancer" dot com. Oh yeah, no vested interests there. I'm sure he's commenting strictly as an unbiased scientist, right? Take note, NYT: this is not journalistic integrity in the name of "neutrality": it's blatant political agendas tampering with science. Don't give them a platform.

And for the rest of us who actually *do* care about women and the risk of breast cancer: wouldn't it be amazing if we could muster up this level of outrage over big business polluting the environment with carcinogenic chemicals? That actually *do* cause breast cancer?

Outgilding the gilded age

Krugman never disappoints me. I'd been planning to write about income inequality, as I've read a number of articles/blogs lately tackling various aspects of the problem: the top 1% of Americans amassing an obscene percentage of the nation's wealth, the middle class going without healthcare (not to mention the poor), a tax system that audits the "little guy" and turns a blind eye to corporations and the rich cheating the system (both illegally and through loopholes that ought to be illegal), etc.


From 4&20 blackbirds (original has links to the statistics, stories):

Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Eighty-five percent? Almost one in five tax dollars remains uncollected? Sign me up! Right? I mean, that’s a lot of tax dollars going uncollected, they won’t miss little piddly contribution to Bush’s grandiose and delusional foreign policy schemes!http://www2.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

Not so fast. If you’re like me, a regular working joe with a five-digit income, you won’t be getting away with cheating. That’s right! The IRS has stepped up its scrutiny of middle-class taxpayers.

Admittedly the frequency of audits are much higher if you earn a million or more. But what about the super wealthy? The Bush administration has cut the IRS staff investigating the wealthiest Americans in half. Additionally, while IRS staff investigating the super-rich have gone down, the complexity of the tax laws has shot up, and it’s the super-rich with their paid accountants and tax specialists who have the tools and the resources to exploit those laws.

A study of Walmart’s earnings against its taxes shows how much it cheated state governments out of its rightful income. According to the report, Walmart and other multi-state corporations cook their books and shift income made in states with income taxes to states without.

And Ezra Klein:

From The American Prospect's poverty report:

In 2005, the top 20 percent of American households had 50.4 percent of the nation's income, while the bottom 20 percent had 3.4 percent -- the largest margin between top and bottom since this data series began, in 1967. The Center on Budget and Policy Priorities reports that between 2003 and 2004, the post-tax income of the bottom fifth rose by $200 a year, while that of the top fifth rose by $11,600, and post-tax income for the top 1 percent rose by $145,500. And the wealth gap is far more extreme, with the top 1 percent of households holding one-third of the nation's net worth, while the bottom 40 percent have less than one percent of the nation's net worth.

I'm always impressed by how remarkably stark the data is. "The top 1 percent of households holding one-third of the nation's net worth, while the bottom 40 percent have less than one percent of the nation's net worth." Utterly unreal. But, of course, we're all to believe that a hammerlock on the nation's wealth confers no advantages, and the children of the poor are exactly as likely to succeed as the children of the rich...

It *is* stark. It makes me wonder what capitalism's endgame will look like. But for now, why are we still cutting the rich's taxes, while shifting more burdens onto the middle class? [Note: I don't believe in Reaganomics. Some people don't believe in God, some people don't believe in evolution, I don't believe in trickle down.]

Anyways, so I had this post in mind. And then I read Krugman's editorial on income inequality hitting and surpassing gilded age levels (see how we just made it back to that first sentence?):

Consider a head-to-head comparison. We know what John D. Rockefeller, the richest man in Gilded Age America, made in 1894, because in 1895 he had to pay income taxes. (The next year, the Supreme Court declared the income tax unconstitutional.) His return declared an income of $1.25 million, almost 7,000 times the average per capita income in the United States at the time.

But that makes him a mere piker by modern standards. Last year, according to Institutional Investor’s Alpha magazine, James Simons, a hedge fund manager, took home $1.7 billion, more than 38,000 times the average income. Two other hedge fund managers also made more than $1 billion, and the top 25 combined made $14 billion.

How much is $14 billion? It’s more than it would cost to provide health care for a year to eight million children — the number of children in America who, unlike children in any other advanced country, don’t have health insurance.

The hedge fund billionaires are simply extreme examples of a much bigger phenomenon: every available measure of income concentration shows that we’ve gone back to levels of inequality not seen since the 1920s.

...

You might have thought that in the face of growing inequality, there would have been a move to reinforce these moderating institutions — to raise taxes on the rich and use the money to strengthen the safety net. That’s why comparing the incomes of hedge fund managers with the cost of children’s health care isn’t an idle exercise: there’s a real trade-off involved. But for the past three decades, such trade-offs have been consistently settled in favor of the haves and have-mores.

Taxation has become much less progressive: according to estimates by the economists Thomas Piketty and Emmanuel Saez, average tax rates on the richest 0.01 percent of Americans have been cut in half since 1970, while taxes on the middle class have risen. In particular, the unearned income of the wealthy — dividends and capital gains — is now taxed at a lower rate than the earned income of most middle-class families.

We're outgilding the gilded age. And it's obscene.

Wild ox

So the other night I was reading Deutoronomy. And I came across this line from Moses' parting blessing:

"His horns are the horns of a wild ox; with them he gores the peoples, driving them to the ends of the earth..." (33.17)

Remind you of anything (Merrie this is all you)?



Yep: The Last Unicorn. In a bout of nostalgia, I decided to watch it (because I have the DVD, thanks to Andrew). And there it was -- specifically, when the butterfly tells the unicorn about the red bull:

"...they passed down all the roads long ago, and the Red Bull ran close behind them and covered their footprints...and his horns are the horns of a wild ox, with them he shall push the unicorns, all of them, to the ends of the earth."

Ahh, the things I've been missing out on. I finished watching it tonight, over Strauss's organic dutch chocolate ice cream. Which I highly recommend. It's on sale at Andronico's for the next week.

Charlie : Candy Mountain

In the spirit of unicorns: When I got home today, I found this link from Karuna. It's *hilarious.* I'm going to watch it again right now.

In response to Brooks

David Brooks wrote an op-ed for the Sunday NYT, entitled "Postures in Public, Facts in the Womb." In which he spends most of his column space reciting science textbook facts over the developmental stages of a fetus. Which is supposed to have something to do with the Supreme Court decision. Yeah.

Here's my response, which I'm sure will *not* make its way onto the NYT members talk back page:

I was eager to read Brooks's column after the Supreme Court's ruling on so-called partial birth abortions (a term made up by the anti-choice crowd). From the title of his op-ed, I hoped to hear about the ramifications of this decision on women's health: after this ruling, doctors who judge the D & X procedure to be the safest option for a particular woman's health will no longer be able to use it (unless they can prove she would have died without it). These late term abortions are generally performed on fetuses with severe abnormalities and/or no chance of surviving (eg, no brain, severe spina bifada, etc.), and save a woman from carrying a dead or dying fetus, and then going through hours of painful labor only to deliver a dead body. The alternative procedure, from what I understand, can often be riskier (and certainly no less difficult to describe). And yet, the terms of the debate -- particularly in Brooks's article -- focused on the fetus rather than the woman carrying it. NARAL and Planned Parenthood aren't avoiding the term "fetus" so much as Brooks is avoiding the term "woman." If we truly cared about women, we would not take a procedure off the table when they need to make hard decisions about their health and families.

Further, Brooks's supposed "compromise" (that abortions be legal until a certain point, and after that only for rare circumstances; that minors be required to have parental notifications, etc.) continues this political posturing that he complains about. Either women own their own bodies and can make their own decisions regarding fetuses inside said bodies, or they don't. This isn't an issue that can be easily compromised upon, beyond of course the mark of "viability" for the fetus (i.e., the point at which it does not depend upon its mother's body for survival). Do we really want to force every teenager to tell her parents that she needs an abortion, even if one of those parents has raped her? Or abused her? Or will throw her out of the house? Instead of further laws restricting abortion, let's focus on getting these failed abstinence-only sex "education" classes out of our schools; let's make sure that contraception is widely available (and not politicized like the FDA's shameful delay in approving Plan B for over-the-counter sales); let's acknowledge that pro-choice policies are better for women and their families; and let's teach our children that sex is a natural part of life, but something over which they must make responsible decisions.

Life begins in the womb, but in the rush to consider the sanctity of potential life, let's not forget the sanctity of women's lives and the freedom to make their own moral decisions, decisions directly affecting their bodies and families.

Yep. Take that, Brooks. [Note: I did *not* include this last comment.]

That is all. I'm now going to read the Bible for my class tomorrow.