In Memory

Check out this ridiculous James Brown interview. I don't know what he's on, but wow.

'Tis the Season

Congratulations to Su (who doesn't know that I know she reads this) and Fred on their new baby.

And, congrats to Amy and Dan on the birth of Sylvia Rose. Isn't that the name of the character in the Prince song "Starfish and Coffee?"

Now, Please Bring Me The Onion And The Giraffe

These are the kinds of conversation snippets I overhear in my house. Every once in a while, they strike me as deliciously odd, and I feel like selling them to the Shins for use as song titles.

Last weekend, these conversations took on a bestial bent when we rented the cottage at Sprout Creek Farm.

Sprout Creek Farm is a tiny operation in Dutchess County that specializes in artisan cheese, education programs, and animal husbandry. Fowl and cats roam the grounds. The cows and goats are friendly, though behind fences, and the sheep are aloof. Almost as an afterthought, the farm owners rent out a little house with three bedrooms, two fireplaces and a full kitchen.

It was the perfect two-day vacation for the three of us. But yes, queries like “what does a chicken say?” surfaced a bit too much for comfort in retrospect. And trying to explain the physical difference between goat poop and mud to a two-year-old was an insurmountable challenge.

Obsession

Asher's nanny gave him a little Thomas the Train for Chanukah yesterday. Not only did he insist on taking it to bed with him, but he also woke up yelling for it in the middle of the night when it fell on the floor. From 1-3am, he sat in his crib, playing loudly with it, and yammering for us to pick it up when he "accidentally" dropped it. Did we try to take it from him? Sure, but that caused even more drama.

What a great night.

I was feeling particularly beaten down by the Man and the System today, so I decided to order my Spring semester books from Amazon. Doesn't it make you feel better just to read the titles?

Myra Marx Ferree, William Anthony Gamson, Jürgen Gerhards, and Dieter Rucht. 2002. Shaping Abortion Discourse: Democracy and the Public Sphere in Germany and the United States. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Daniel C. Hallin and Paolo Mancini. 2004. Comparing Media Systems. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

James T. Hamilton. 2004. All The News That’s Fit to Sell: How the Market Transforms Information Into News. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Silvio Waisbord. 2000. Watchdog Journalism in South America: News, Accountability, and Democracy. New York: Columbia University Press.

Barbie Zelizer. 2004. Taking Journalism Seriously. London: Sage.

Rodney Benson and Erik Neveu, eds. 2005. Bourdieu and the Journalistic Field. Cambridge: Polity.

By The Numbers

The Pentagon just released it’s quarterly report on Iraq:

From August through November, there was an average of 959 attacks per week against U.S. soldiers. This is the highest since the start of the war.

Civilian deaths are averaging 93/day – a high. That’s 8,370 civilian deaths for the quarter – nearly three times the toll for 9/11.

There are more than one thousand “sectarian executions” each month – also a high. Sectarian executions are inexplicably not counted in the civilian death total.

“The enemy has achieved a strategic success by unleashing a spiral of sectarian killings by Sunni and Shiite death squads that threatens Iraq's political institutions.”

Chanukah
I'm not much for forced gift-giving - especially when you're talking about mass market brands. But, there's something to be said for lighting the menorah with your child, then presenting him with an Elmo puppet that he refuses to let leave his side for two days straight.

Today, we went to Dan and Amy's for an impromptu Chanukah party. The adults drank wine and ate latkes. The kids... did kid things.

New Yo La Tengo on a grey day. Exquisite.

We can't go to Puerto Rico next week. It's going to rain every day. Any other suggestions?

Is Barak Obama running for Vice President?

My job is paid for by Britney Spears crotch shots, and Angelina Jolie interviews. Sarah's is supported by hour-long documentaries about our dysfunctional veterans' affairs system, K Street, Mexican politics, and the lies told in the run-up to the Iraq war. Real watchdog journalism. Now, guess which one of us is more likely to quit in the next month.

I Am An American Aquarium Drinker

It's 9am, and I'm the only one in the new, cavernous digs here at Columbus and 66th. Shoes are off. Coffee cup is empty. Wilco is blaring, and the word "aquarium" in "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" takes on special significance as I'm scrutinized by the street traffic through these floor-to-ceiling windows.

Dan Rather Meets Asher

Has a lot happened, or has nothing happened? Or, has a lot of nothing happened?

Upon reflection, I think it's door number three.

I finished up my final exam with three hours to spare on Sunday morning, then ran up to Blue Sky Bakery in time to see Asher browbeat a pug into licking his hand a dozen times. Shortly thereafter, Jaira our Ecuadorian nanny arrived, and Sarah and I went to her cousin's wedding somewhere in the wilds of northern New Jersey. We stayed for the food and the ceremony, then high-tailed it back to Manhattan for Sarah's office party.

The party was in the Chelsea loft home of Sarah's executive producer, and was fairly low-key. Asher met us there - mostly so Sarah could show him off. Dan Rather was also there. And unlike others of his stature who would prefer to hold court in a corner, he ambled casually from conversation to conversation, adding a gracious and intelligent spark to each. Asher solemnly shook his hand, and he told the two of us that he was sorry that Sarah had to work so hard.

Speaking of Sarah working hard, I think she's going to try to scale back to half-time next month.

On the work front, I moved to a new office on the ground floor of the old Disney store on the corner of 66th and Columbus. It's got high ceilings and big windows, but the street noise makes phone conversations a challenge.

Oh - Should Sarah, Asher and I go to Puerto Rico over Christmas?

Picture Of Me

Presently, I'm writing about dominant ontology while eating a "chicken" apple tofu dog on a Dora the Explorer placemat. Life is weird.

Final Exam

Ready... Set... GO!

[Instructions: Write around 3,000 words total. You have until noon, Sunday. And then you have to go to a wedding in New Jersey. And then you have to go to an office party in Manhattan. And then you have to spend 30 minutes with your son before the weekend is over.]


1) How does Stuart Hall's argument recuperate mass culture? What is mass culture, and what does it mean to "recuperate" it? How must Hall redefine the circuit of communication in the course of his argument? Compare Hall's attempt to recuperate mass culture with ONE of the following authors: Venturi, Radway, or Jameson.

2) Mark Poster writes: "The question may be raised, then, of the narrative structure of second media age communications: does it or is it likely to promote the proliferation of little narratives or does it invigorate a developing authoritarian technocracy?" ("Postmodern Virtualities," p. 544). Explain what Poster means in this passage, particularly what he means by "little narratives" and "authoritarian
technocracy." What is the postmodern subject? What are the challenges it must face? Include a discussion of ONE of the following authors: Nakamura, Mohanty, or McRobbie.

Thirty Five Bucks for a Drink and a Grilled Cheese

I went out with some of my fellow students after class last night for a combo study session/dinner-and-drinks gathering. The conversation was heady, and the asides were pedestrian ("How does the Weiner measure up to the Peters?"). All in all, a fun and productive (but not in the Marxist sense) evening. But I was reminded of the difference between sharing a check with students and sharing a check with professionals. With the latter, there's often too much money in the middle of the table, and everyone gets some back. With the former, you're always a few bucks short, and there's a general plea for people to cough up more.

After a weekend of wall-to-wall work, Sarah finished her latest show last night. This one's on the drug trade in Laredo, Mexico. It airs tonight on HDNet, for those of you elite few who have access.

This week, I'm cramming for my final exam, making up for time lost at work by leaving early to take care of Asher, hosting my Chicago friend Jason for dinner, and pondering a move to warmer environs.

Mundane news of the day: I made meatballs last night that melt in your mouth.

It's a Wilco Being There morning.

As we inch towards the shortest day of the year, sun time is cut even more by the thunderstorm on the horizon. Commuters seemed even more stunned than usual this morning - either from their Thursday night escapades, the exceptionally gray sky, or the psychological damage wrought by a glance at the calendar that confirmed the onset of the final month of 2006.

Asher woke up for 30 minutes around one in the morning. I couldn't fall back asleep until 5:30, and my alarm went off at 6. Comfort, now, consists of a $4 coffee drink and Jeff Tweedy's 1990s-era Chicago laments.