You Talk Way Too Much.
Apropos of, ahem, Absolutely Nothing, we've been listening to this song all day today.
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Friday, February 29, 2008
February 29, 2008 - Blogging Is Good for Your Health
At times I’ve wondered what keeps me going, as a blog author. Why did I start writing on such a grim subject as cancer in the first place, and why do I keep it up – long into my journey through this gray, featureless country of watching and waiting?An article describing a new research study suggests why.
“Implementing an Expressive Writing Study in a Cancer Clinic,” from the most recent issue of The Oncologist, describes the results of an experiment. Researchers asked a group of cancer patients to practice journaling while they were sitting in their doctors’ waiting rooms. After several months of sporadic scribbling, the writers answered questions about how the practice of journaling had affected their outlook.
The effect was overwhelmingly positive. Through linguistic analysis of the patients’ journal entries, investigators found that nearly all the writers used words that evoked a transformation of some sort. From the article:
“Many of the changes expressed in the writing were positive and related to feelings about family, spirituality, work, and the future. As one patient wrote, ‘Don’t get me wrong, cancer isn’t a gift, it just showed me what the gifts in my life are.’ Words and phrases from the writing texts appeared to illustrate a continuum of emotional transformation that may occur after a cancer diagnosis, beginning with the shock of diagnosis (e.g., mortality, shocked, uncertainty), followed by indications of acceptance (e.g., resigned, relaxed, readjust), expressions of gratitude (e.g., thankful, appreciate, grateful), and words related to transformation (e.g., more loving and giving, change in persona, new interests).” [Nancy P. Morgan, Kristi D. Graves, Elizabeth A. Poggi and Bruce D. Cheson, “Implementing an Expressive Writing Study in a Cancer Clinic,” The Oncologist, vol. 13, No. 2, February 2008, pp. 196-204.]
I know cancer has changed me. It changes just about everyone who experiences it. The change process begins on the day of diagnosis and continues long after. I have a sneaking feeling it never ends.
So, what does writing about cancer accomplish? Maybe it’s a sort of scapegoat effect. Leviticus 16:9-10 tells of the ancient Hebrew practice of cutting a goat out from the herd, liturgically loading all the sins of the people upon its back, then driving the benighted beast out of the camp. Hard luck for that particular goat, but it made the people feel better.
Maybe when I tap out a blog entry on my keyboard and click “Publish,” some of the fear and anxiety and anger of the cancer experience is sucked out of me and shot into cyberspace, hitching a ride on some runaway electrons. The sheer act of forging thoughts and feelings into words gives them a sort of objective reality. What had once been an ominous, swirling cloud takes on a certain shape. The shape it takes is not nearly so fearful as the imagining.
I don’t know whether or not the pen is mightier than the stethoscope, but the two can have a common purpose, it seems.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
(02.28.08) Recommends:
Looking Forward to the Weekend.
We don't want to jinx it or anything, but. We've been doing some research. We're scoured the internet. Poured over the newspaper. Flipped through all the channels on the teevee. We even consulted with the guy down at the corner store. The verdict is in. And it's unanimous: this weekend is shaping up to be the Best Weekend Thus Far For This Calendar Year. We all just have to get through today. And then we've got more potential highlights than reasonable people can shake sticks at. Behold:
We don't want to jinx it or anything, but. We've been doing some research. We're scoured the internet. Poured over the newspaper. Flipped through all the channels on the teevee. We even consulted with the guy down at the corner store. The verdict is in. And it's unanimous: this weekend is shaping up to be the Best Weekend Thus Far For This Calendar Year. We all just have to get through today. And then we've got more potential highlights than reasonable people can shake sticks at. Behold:
- Miss Chan Marshall will be serenading us on Friday.
- The weather is supposed to be, um, another nearly perfect LA weekend. Weather.com sums it up succinctly with it's prediction of "abundant sunshine."
- Which means we're gonna be getting our exercise outside!
- We'll probably consume no less than three alcoholic drinks in a single sitting, because it is the weekend, and well, we can. Note: this does not mean the drink must come from a can. It might come from a bottle. Or a fancy glass. Or off the chest of an eager, nubile female. No, no. Another Note: we didn't just write that; it was the other editor; and it's completely false. And preposterous. We only love people for their minds. Sheesh.
- Last and probably funniest: New Will Ferrel Movie Weekend.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
(02.27.08) Recommends:
Busting Our Your Favorite Driving CD and Going for a Drive.
Call us old timers, but this post is a nod to old school music listening ways.
One of the things that our iPod world makes us contemplate is the future of the Driving CD. Anyone born from about 1985 and earlier knows what we're talking about. The CD that you always have somewhere in the car because if a long road trip should suddenly break out, you'd need it because it's your favorite Driving CD. They are those rare albums where every song is good, every song flows perfectly into the next song, and together the album seems to perfectly soundtrack whatever landscape that happens to surround you.
Do people still have Driving CDs, or is it all iPod mixes, perfectly tailored to meet the expectations of the destination, the driving company, the climate controlled environment? God, we hope not.
Probably our favorite Driving CD is Son Volt's Trace. This record came out when we were Sophomores in high school, and my goodness, driving really meant something at that age, you know? We can definitely recall getting out and getting lost among the dusty backroads of Kansas, with the windows rolled down and that humid heat beating down on us, listening to this record over and over and over again. We didn't know where we were headed, but we were hopeful that the open road and this album held some of the answers.
And this week, we're there again. I mean, we're not back in Kansas. We've found ourselves sequestered in a certain California city that was heretofore unknown to us. But this town has a really stunning mountain range. So when we've had time, we've gotten out, like that Sophomore stuck inside of us, and have been driving in the shadow of that mountain range. Looking for answers, trying to clear our heads. And wouldn't you know it, but we had to bust out our favorite Driving CD again. And it can still make everything seem more meaningful.
These songs will never be as powerful to us as they are coming out of a CD player, out on the open road, but here are two of our favorite tracks from our favorite Driving CDs.
Call us old timers, but this post is a nod to old school music listening ways.
One of the things that our iPod world makes us contemplate is the future of the Driving CD. Anyone born from about 1985 and earlier knows what we're talking about. The CD that you always have somewhere in the car because if a long road trip should suddenly break out, you'd need it because it's your favorite Driving CD. They are those rare albums where every song is good, every song flows perfectly into the next song, and together the album seems to perfectly soundtrack whatever landscape that happens to surround you.
Do people still have Driving CDs, or is it all iPod mixes, perfectly tailored to meet the expectations of the destination, the driving company, the climate controlled environment? God, we hope not.
Probably our favorite Driving CD is Son Volt's Trace. This record came out when we were Sophomores in high school, and my goodness, driving really meant something at that age, you know? We can definitely recall getting out and getting lost among the dusty backroads of Kansas, with the windows rolled down and that humid heat beating down on us, listening to this record over and over and over again. We didn't know where we were headed, but we were hopeful that the open road and this album held some of the answers.
And this week, we're there again. I mean, we're not back in Kansas. We've found ourselves sequestered in a certain California city that was heretofore unknown to us. But this town has a really stunning mountain range. So when we've had time, we've gotten out, like that Sophomore stuck inside of us, and have been driving in the shadow of that mountain range. Looking for answers, trying to clear our heads. And wouldn't you know it, but we had to bust out our favorite Driving CD again. And it can still make everything seem more meaningful.
These songs will never be as powerful to us as they are coming out of a CD player, out on the open road, but here are two of our favorite tracks from our favorite Driving CDs.
I Hate to say I Told You So...
But I told you so. Or to be more accurate, everyone who cares more about people than profit told you so.
From a post in 2005 about biofuels:
In 2006, when I blogged about the Global Food Supply Near the Breaking Point, the problem was overproduction and low commodity prices driving smaller farmers out.
Now, here we are in 2008, and the UN's food aid programme is in serious trouble, due to the astronomical increase in the price of food.
*Note, because of the high cost of food, the "US, the biggest single food aid contributor, will radically cut the amount it gives away."
Again, I recognize that there are many problems with the food aid system, because it does nothing to help the economic structural problems that are to blame for hunger and malnutrition (food aid can in some cases even harm local food producers, say by undercutting them) but this is certainly not the answer.
From a post in 2005 about biofuels:
Not only inefficient, but "a humanitarian and environmental disaster", says George Monbiot, presenting a chilling vision, in which "most of the arable surface of the planet will be deployed to produce food for cars, not people." He reminds us that markets respond to profit, not hunger. Those who need food the most are exactly the ones with the least amount of money to buy it, and so the monied person's car will always win out. He reminds us that even today, those who buy meat products have more purchasing power, so grain is fed to animals instead of to starving kids.
In 2006, when I blogged about the Global Food Supply Near the Breaking Point, the problem was overproduction and low commodity prices driving smaller farmers out.
"Many Canadian and U.S. farmers are going out of business because crop prices are at their lowest in nearly 100 years," Qualman said in an interview. "Farmers are told overproduction is to blame for the low prices they've been forced to accept in recent years."
However, most North American agribusiness corporations posted record profits in 2004. With only five major companies controlling the global grain market, there is a massive imbalance of power, he said.
Now, here we are in 2008, and the UN's food aid programme is in serious trouble, due to the astronomical increase in the price of food.
What is the problem?
In the three decades to 2005, world food prices fell by about three-quarters in inflation-adjusted terms, according to the Economist food prices index. Since then they have risen by 75%, with much of that coming in the past year. Wheat prices have doubled, while maize, soya and oilseeds are at record highs.
Why are food prices rising?
The booming world economy has driven up prices for all commodities. Changes in diets have also played a big part. Meat consumption in many countries has soared, pushing up demand for the grain needed by cattle. Demand for biofuels has also risen strongly. This year, for example, one third of the US maize crop will go to make biofuels*. Moreover, the gradual reform and liberalisation of agricultural subsidy programmes in the US and Europe have reduced the butter and grain mountains of yesteryear by eliminating overproduction.
*Note, because of the high cost of food, the "US, the biggest single food aid contributor, will radically cut the amount it gives away."
Again, I recognize that there are many problems with the food aid system, because it does nothing to help the economic structural problems that are to blame for hunger and malnutrition (food aid can in some cases even harm local food producers, say by undercutting them) but this is certainly not the answer.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
(02.26.08) Recommends:
PWRFL POWER.
Just the other day we were wondering -- luckily we weren't wondering this aloud, as is sometimes our wont -- what would happen if Satomi Matsuzaki, the lead singer of Deerhoof, and Sufjan Stevens, of, um, Sufjan Stevens made some kind of musical robot out of their combined presences. Luckily we didn't have to wait too long for an answer, because today the good people at Catbird Records emailed us the answer. The robot's name is PWRFL POWER and he sounds like this. Note: He's not actually a robot. But we're very excited by the results nonetheless.
PWRFL POWER -- Alma Song -- mp3.
PWRFL POWER @ CBR.
PWRFL POWER @ Myspace.
Just the other day we were wondering -- luckily we weren't wondering this aloud, as is sometimes our wont -- what would happen if Satomi Matsuzaki, the lead singer of Deerhoof, and Sufjan Stevens, of, um, Sufjan Stevens made some kind of musical robot out of their combined presences. Luckily we didn't have to wait too long for an answer, because today the good people at Catbird Records emailed us the answer. The robot's name is PWRFL POWER and he sounds like this. Note: He's not actually a robot. But we're very excited by the results nonetheless.
PWRFL POWER -- Alma Song -- mp3.
PWRFL POWER @ CBR.
PWRFL POWER @ Myspace.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Dinner on Capitol Hill
I just thought you might like to know. All the best. --KenA
One person, one body, one count
Who has fought hardest to prevent violence against women, if not feminists? And it is advocates for women, like the beleaguered Status of Women Canada, who have been working to alert the public to the prevalence of violence against pregnant women.
From the SWC publication, Assessing Violence Against Women: A Statistical Profile:
Without the constant hard work of feminists and organizations like the SWC, domestic violence - including violence against pregnant women - would likely drop off the public radar. Who researches reports, creates policy recommendations, organizes programs for abused women, and builds women's shelters? I'll give you a hint: it isn't the anti-abortion movement.
So for them to claim that opposing the Unborn Victims of Crime Bill (Bill C-484) is somehow demonstrating a lack of care for these women is pretty ridiculous. One could note that being so keen to abolish the SWC displays a callous disregard for all the women, including the pregnant sort, that it works so hard to help.
A woman who has chosen to give birth, who wants and welcomes her baby, has invested the fetus with her hopes and dreams. Indeed she comes to think of the fetus as a baby before it is born. Nobody denies this. It doesn't follow that the fetus should be enshrined in law as an unborn child, and a human being with the same status as the mother. Harm to the fetus that she has come to care for is a tragedy, particularly when it is caused by violence to her own body. If we want to protect pregnant women, then let's enact effective policy and write meaningful laws to protect pregnant women, not disingenuous laws for fetal rights.
Other comments on here, here, here, and here, and especially here - among many others today
From the SWC publication, Assessing Violence Against Women: A Statistical Profile:
Women are particularly vulnerable when they are pregnant and when they take steps to leave their violent partners. With regard to pregnancy, the Violence Against Women Survey found that 21% of abused women were assaulted during their pregnancy, and in 40% of these cases, this episode was the beginning of the abuse.
[...]
The public also has relatively low awareness levels of prenatal violence with 20% [of a survey taken in New Brunswick] undecided on whether physical abuse of a woman often starts during pregnancy and 44% who disagree that violence often starts at this time.
Without the constant hard work of feminists and organizations like the SWC, domestic violence - including violence against pregnant women - would likely drop off the public radar. Who researches reports, creates policy recommendations, organizes programs for abused women, and builds women's shelters? I'll give you a hint: it isn't the anti-abortion movement.
So for them to claim that opposing the Unborn Victims of Crime Bill (Bill C-484) is somehow demonstrating a lack of care for these women is pretty ridiculous. One could note that being so keen to abolish the SWC displays a callous disregard for all the women, including the pregnant sort, that it works so hard to help.
A woman who has chosen to give birth, who wants and welcomes her baby, has invested the fetus with her hopes and dreams. Indeed she comes to think of the fetus as a baby before it is born. Nobody denies this. It doesn't follow that the fetus should be enshrined in law as an unborn child, and a human being with the same status as the mother. Harm to the fetus that she has come to care for is a tragedy, particularly when it is caused by violence to her own body. If we want to protect pregnant women, then let's enact effective policy and write meaningful laws to protect pregnant women, not disingenuous laws for fetal rights.
Other comments on here, here, here, and here, and especially here - among many others today
(02.25.08) Recommends:
The Bureau of Communication.
We came across this page via the Daily Candy email, and it cracks us up. The premise is combining the powers of the internet and Mad Libs to convey all those unspoken thoughts that go through our heads all day. So if you're not sure how to reveal your attraction or repulsion to somebody; your regret or appreciation over things; to communicate, to celebrate, to observe; BoC might be just the thing for you. Just go to the site. Pick out a pre-created form. Fill it out. Email it off. "Let that which is unsaid be said." Attempts at humor are strongly discouraged.
We came across this page via the Daily Candy email, and it cracks us up. The premise is combining the powers of the internet and Mad Libs to convey all those unspoken thoughts that go through our heads all day. So if you're not sure how to reveal your attraction or repulsion to somebody; your regret or appreciation over things; to communicate, to celebrate, to observe; BoC might be just the thing for you. Just go to the site. Pick out a pre-created form. Fill it out. Email it off. "Let that which is unsaid be said." Attempts at humor are strongly discouraged.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
My secret views about the Presidential campaign
So it came as quite a shock to me when I learned recently that there is a small group of people in this world who actually read this Blog. Some even print off copies of my postings and pass them around. Please understand, I welcome you. But it did strike me as alarming. If people are reading what I write, then I actually need to be coherent and smart, and have something useful to say, like: Be good. Don't do evil. Eat fiber. Call your mother. So on.
So I've divided that, as a special treat for those intrepid few eyeballs that actually venture into this rarified cranny of the Web, today I will begin to reveal my secret, private thoughts about the current 2008 Presidential election campaign. Up till now, I've kept them secret. But inquiring minds want to know. And the demand has reached a crescendo, impossible to ignore.
So here goes:
First, I reject the view that George W. Bush is the single worst president in American history. It's not that he hasn't tried. The problem for Bush is the competition. James Buchanan (1857-1861) and Andrew Johnson (1865-1869) were both so abysmal, so incompetent, so malicious, that even a president as bad as Bush falls short. With Buchanan, his mis-management of the 1860 secession crisis set the stage for oceans of blood to be in Civil War. With Andrew Johnson, his naked racism undermined any chance for positive post-War reconstruction and improving the lot of freed African-American slaves for the next hundred years. It's taken until Barack Obama (but more on that later...).
So I nominate George W. Bush as no better than third worst. He has fewer redeeming virtures than Richard M. Nixon, a mean streak never shared by Warren G. Harding, and more destructive in his hard-headedness than Herbert Hoover.
Now, as for the active, serious candidates still standing for 2008: Hillary Clinton, John McCain, and Barack O'Bama (I prefer the Irish spelling). I like them all in different ways, and think the country would be better of with any of them in the top job. Perhaps best would be something like this: Obama as president, Hillary as WH chief of staff, and McCain as Secretary of War. (I think he'd enjoy using the traditional name).
I can't imagine any of these three settling for Vice President. Each probably would agree with John Nance Garner's description of the job as "not worth a bucket of warm piss." None, I think, would side with Chester Alan Arthur (VP to James A. Garfield who became president when Garfield was assassinated in 1881), who described the VP job truthfully as "a greater honor than I ever dreamed of attaining."
In my ideal outcome, there might even be roles for the also-rans: say, Mike Huckabee as ambassador to the Vatican, John Edwards as Solicitor General, Dennis Kucinich as commander of Area 51, and Ralph Nader as Miss Congeniality.
So with that, I'm ready to sit down with a glass of wine and watch the Oscars. I had my coffee this morning. Thanks for reading this, you few, you strong, you intrepid souls. I hope your eyeballs prosper.
Till then, all the best. --KenA
So I've divided that, as a special treat for those intrepid few eyeballs that actually venture into this rarified cranny of the Web, today I will begin to reveal my secret, private thoughts about the current 2008 Presidential election campaign. Up till now, I've kept them secret. But inquiring minds want to know. And the demand has reached a crescendo, impossible to ignore.
So here goes:
First, I reject the view that George W. Bush is the single worst president in American history. It's not that he hasn't tried. The problem for Bush is the competition. James Buchanan (1857-1861) and Andrew Johnson (1865-1869) were both so abysmal, so incompetent, so malicious, that even a president as bad as Bush falls short. With Buchanan, his mis-management of the 1860 secession crisis set the stage for oceans of blood to be in Civil War. With Andrew Johnson, his naked racism undermined any chance for positive post-War reconstruction and improving the lot of freed African-American slaves for the next hundred years. It's taken until Barack Obama (but more on that later...).
So I nominate George W. Bush as no better than third worst. He has fewer redeeming virtures than Richard M. Nixon, a mean streak never shared by Warren G. Harding, and more destructive in his hard-headedness than Herbert Hoover.
Now, as for the active, serious candidates still standing for 2008: Hillary Clinton, John McCain, and Barack O'Bama (I prefer the Irish spelling). I like them all in different ways, and think the country would be better of with any of them in the top job. Perhaps best would be something like this: Obama as president, Hillary as WH chief of staff, and McCain as Secretary of War. (I think he'd enjoy using the traditional name).
I can't imagine any of these three settling for Vice President. Each probably would agree with John Nance Garner's description of the job as "not worth a bucket of warm piss." None, I think, would side with Chester Alan Arthur (VP to James A. Garfield who became president when Garfield was assassinated in 1881), who described the VP job truthfully as "a greater honor than I ever dreamed of attaining."
In my ideal outcome, there might even be roles for the also-rans: say, Mike Huckabee as ambassador to the Vatican, John Edwards as Solicitor General, Dennis Kucinich as commander of Area 51, and Ralph Nader as Miss Congeniality.
So with that, I'm ready to sit down with a glass of wine and watch the Oscars. I had my coffee this morning. Thanks for reading this, you few, you strong, you intrepid souls. I hope your eyeballs prosper.
Till then, all the best. --KenA
(02.24.08) Recommends:
"Sometime Around Midnight" by the Airborne Toxic Event.
One of the things that we've really loved about our time in Los Angeles is all the great local bands we've stumbled upon one way or another. We've seen and blogged about locals the Deadly Syndrome, Western States Motel, Robert Francis, Emily Jane White and lots of others. We think Airborne Toxic Event gets top honors for Weirdest Discovery. And we've been listening to this ATE single tons lately. One of the reasons we really love this track (and perhaps it's subconsciously one of the reasons we love this band) is that we're pretty sure this is what Neil Diamond would have sounded like had he decided all those years ago to front an indie-rock band. And we're not being ironic or snarky here -- we really love Neil Diamond.
So seriously. We're pretty sure this band is gonna break big this calendar year. And we're pretty sure they owe a big debt to Neil Diamond. If you doubt this theory, check out this tune, close your eyes, and picture Neil Diamond.
All you know about Neil Diamond and indie-rock might change upon this experiment.
Paradigms? They're about to be shifted.
One of the things that we've really loved about our time in Los Angeles is all the great local bands we've stumbled upon one way or another. We've seen and blogged about locals the Deadly Syndrome, Western States Motel, Robert Francis, Emily Jane White and lots of others. We think Airborne Toxic Event gets top honors for Weirdest Discovery. And we've been listening to this ATE single tons lately. One of the reasons we really love this track (and perhaps it's subconsciously one of the reasons we love this band) is that we're pretty sure this is what Neil Diamond would have sounded like had he decided all those years ago to front an indie-rock band. And we're not being ironic or snarky here -- we really love Neil Diamond.
So seriously. We're pretty sure this band is gonna break big this calendar year. And we're pretty sure they owe a big debt to Neil Diamond. If you doubt this theory, check out this tune, close your eyes, and picture Neil Diamond.
All you know about Neil Diamond and indie-rock might change upon this experiment.
Paradigms? They're about to be shifted.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
February 23, 2008 - A Big Loss for Big Insurance
On November 11, 2007, I wrote about a California hairdresser named Patsy Bates, whose insurance company, Health Net, canceled her coverage in the middle of her chemotherapy treatments for breast cancer. The reason they cited was that, on her application for insurance, she had understated her weight by 35 pounds, and had failed to mention that she had once been screened for a possible heart condition, after having taken the diet pill, Fen-Phen.Of course, the real – although unstated – reason was that she had been diagnosed with cancer. Some bean-counter in the insurance company offices, whose job it was to discover legal loopholes allowing the company to cancel unprofitable policies, had targeted Ms. Bates as a likely victim.
Ms. Bates, who suddenly found herself with over $129,000 in unpaid medical bills, was forced to discontinue her chemotherapy for several months, until she could find a charity that would help pay for her treatments.
The Los Angeles Times reported today that a judge has awarded Ms. Bates a $9 million settlement in the case. Evidence produced at the trial demonstrated that not only did Health Net pursue a policy of canceling customers’ policies on this sort of pretext, but they actually paid their employees bonuses to uncover such cases.From the article:
“Calling Woodland Hills-based Health Net's actions ‘egregious,’ Judge Sam Cianchetti, a retired Los Angeles County Superior Court judge, ruled that the company broke state laws and acted in bad faith.
‘Health Net was primarily concerned with and considered its own financial interests and gave little, if any, consideration and concern for the interests of the insured,’ Cianchetti wrote in a 21-page ruling.”
Health Net CEO Jay Gellert did express remorse. “I felt bad about what happened to her,” he told the Times. “I feel bad about the whole situation.” He called an immediate halt to such cancellations and announced that Health Net “would be changing its coverage applications and retraining its sales force.”It’s amazing how much repentance a $9 million legal judgment will produce.
Just for fun, I did a little search to find out what Mr. Gellert’s annual compensation is. According to the Forbes magazine website, it’s $7.03 million. (He also owns $28.3 million in company stock.) Do you suppose the Health Net Board of Directors will vote to dock his salary?
I’ll believe that when I see it.
This is the sort of situation that would never happen if we had a single-payer, national health system in this country. Nobody’s insurance coverage would be dropped to improve some corporation’s bottom line. Nobody’s. And we wouldn’t have health-insurance executives being paid multi-million dollar salaries based on their willingness to cancel people’s policies, either.
(02.23.08) Recommends:
Six Degrees of Comedy.
1. Paul F. Tompkins performed down the street from us last night at UCB.
2. Paul F. Tompkins regularly performs in Comedy Death Ray at UCB.
3. A Comedy Death Ray album has been released.
4. Ian Edwards contributes a track on the album.
5. Part of his contribution is a bit on shark attacks.
6. And it's among the funniest things we've ever heard.
Here's the bit, in a slightly different form, that we found on youtube. [Starts at 1:44]
1. Paul F. Tompkins performed down the street from us last night at UCB.
2. Paul F. Tompkins regularly performs in Comedy Death Ray at UCB.
3. A Comedy Death Ray album has been released.
4. Ian Edwards contributes a track on the album.
5. Part of his contribution is a bit on shark attacks.
6. And it's among the funniest things we've ever heard.
Here's the bit, in a slightly different form, that we found on youtube. [Starts at 1:44]
Torture in 60s South Shows Error of Waterboarding
Tom Gardner:
Torture, not only cruel and immoral, but ineffective for intelligence gathering. The rest of the article at Common Dreams. And find out about the history of waterboarding at the torture museum: barbarism then and now.
When I read about the increasing acceptance of waterboarding as a form of torture, I vividly recall how in 1968 members of the Memphis Police Department believed I could tell them information about civil rights insurgents arriving to create havoc. Forty years later I still hide my serrated scars.
I was 14 years old and forgot I was a black boy living in racist America and heading for the devil's den of discrimination.
[...]
Who were these people I supposedly knew who were ready to disrupt the city's infrastructure? My wild eyes could only register pain as the large men kicked, punched and beat me with nightsticks because I was unable to speak coherently between my sobs of sorrow and moans for my mother.
[...]
Like relentless Stalinists, the policemen gave me a few hard, calculated kicks with steel-toed boots in my back and ribs for making them exhausted from their beating. I promised them the names of protesters, when they were coming, and what they were driving. I could hardly speak from my busted lips, chipped teeth and broken jaw, but I forced words from my mouth that sounded like what they wanted as long as they stopped their feverish beating to decipher what my cracking voice was revealing.
But I didn’t know anyone, and I certainly didn’t know about a conspiracy to take over Memphis...
Torture, not only cruel and immoral, but ineffective for intelligence gathering. The rest of the article at Common Dreams. And find out about the history of waterboarding at the torture museum: barbarism then and now.
Friday, February 22, 2008
(02.22.08) Recommends:
The Track "Lights Out for Darker Skies" by British Sea Power (Rough Trade, 2008).
So Pitchfork apparently really hated BSP's new album, Do You Like Rock Music?, but we're really digging this song. I guess Pitchfork, and probably lots of other people, are upset that BSP hasn't put out an album it finds to be as awesome as their first, The Decline of British Sea Power. We really fucking love that album. But we're fine with BSP putting out whatever they want. Certainly people shouldn't be required to like everything by a band that puts out a killer debut. But we're also pretty certain that you're trying too hard at life if you can't get behind an anthem like Lights Out.
So Pitchfork apparently really hated BSP's new album, Do You Like Rock Music?, but we're really digging this song. I guess Pitchfork, and probably lots of other people, are upset that BSP hasn't put out an album it finds to be as awesome as their first, The Decline of British Sea Power. We really fucking love that album. But we're fine with BSP putting out whatever they want. Certainly people shouldn't be required to like everything by a band that puts out a killer debut. But we're also pretty certain that you're trying too hard at life if you can't get behind an anthem like Lights Out.
City Planet - Housekeeping the Bookmarks part 1
I have a whole pile of fantastic links in my bookmarks that have been hanging out and going stale just waiting for some attention. I think it is time to share them. So, here is the first in a new series.
This 2006 article, City Planet, is about urbanization, squatting and slums.
"Pavement dwellers" living in open-air homes in Byculla, a Mumbai neighborhood
City infrastructure and housing in the developing world cannot keep up with the rapid pace of urbanization. The result: vast informal settlements and neighbourhoods. The article tells of the bad and the good, the crowded, dirty, and yet incredibly vibrant communities:
What about the economic impact?
Of course, cities, slums and informal developments aren't uniformly good.
View from a balcony in Rocinha, Brazil, a dense and relatively prosperous squatter community of 150,000 people, built on steep hills above Rio de Janeiro
These different governmental approaches are detailed for four major squatter cities in Robert Neuwirth's Shadow Cities: A Billion Squatters, A New Urban World, heavily referenced in this article. Aside from security (i.e. NOT living in fear of the government bulldozing your community), what helps these communities thrive?
Women play a crucial role, as it is they who form and participate in many of the communal self-help organizations. Urbanization also brings decreasing birthrates and increased opportunities for women.
Cities are important. A dense city, like New York, is the most environmentally reponsible way to organize large numbers of people. Depending on their organization, cities have shown other benefits too. They represent our future, and our past.
If you're interested, read the full article here.
This 2006 article, City Planet, is about urbanization, squatting and slums.
"Pavement dwellers" living in open-air homes in Byculla, a Mumbai neighborhood
City infrastructure and housing in the developing world cannot keep up with the rapid pace of urbanization. The result: vast informal settlements and neighbourhoods. The article tells of the bad and the good, the crowded, dirty, and yet incredibly vibrant communities:
Let no one romanticize the conditions of slums. New squatter cities usually look like human cesspools and often smell like them. There is usually no infrastructure at all for sanitation, for water, for electricity, or for transportation. Everyone lives in dilapidated shacks jammed together wall to wall, with every room full of people. A typical squatter city, which may stretch for miles, has grown without a plan or government, in an area generally deemed uninhabitable: a swamp, a floodplain, a steep hillside, a municipal dump; clustered in the path of a highway project, squashed up against a railroad line.
But the squatter cities are vibrant. Each narrow street is one long bustling market of food stalls, bars, cafes, hair salons, churches, schools, health clubs, and mini-shops of tools, trinkets, clothes, electronic gadgets, and pirated videos and music. What you see up close is not a despondent populace crushed by poverty but a lot of people busy getting out of poverty as fast as they can.
What about the economic impact?
Gradually a consensus is emerging about the economic value of rural-to-urban migration. This migration, "on the whole, acts to alleviate poverty in both the urban and rural sectors," wrote geography professor Ronald Skeldon in 1997. He explained that the urban "informal sector, with its capacity to create an almost infinite variety and number of activities" and its "considerable potential for self-organization... can create a dynamic economy and society."
[...]
Cities have been the wealth engine for civilization since its beginning. Thus the bottom line in the U.N. report: "Cities are so much more successful in promoting new forms of income generation, and it is so much cheaper to provide services in urban areas, that some experts have actually suggested that the only realistic poverty reduction strategy is to get as many people as possible to move to the city."
Of course, cities, slums and informal developments aren't uniformly good.
It's easy to gloss over the enormous variety among the thousands of emerging cities with different cultures, nations, metropolitan areas, and neighborhoods. From that variety is emerging an understanding of best and worst governmental practices - best, for example, in Turkey, which offers a standard method for new squatter cities to form; worst, for example, in Kenya, which actively prevents squatters from improving their homes. Every country provides a different example.
View from a balcony in Rocinha, Brazil, a dense and relatively prosperous squatter community of 150,000 people, built on steep hills above Rio de Janeiro
These different governmental approaches are detailed for four major squatter cities in Robert Neuwirth's Shadow Cities: A Billion Squatters, A New Urban World, heavily referenced in this article. Aside from security (i.e. NOT living in fear of the government bulldozing your community), what helps these communities thrive?
Social cohesiveness is the crucial factor differentiating "slums of hope" from "slums of despair." This is where CBOs (community-based organizations) and the NGOs (nongovernmental organizations) that support local empowerment play such an important part. Typical CBOs include, according to the 2003 U.N. report, "community theater and leisure groups; sports groups; residents associations or societies; savings and credit groups; child care groups; minority support groups; clubs; advocacy groups; and more... CBOs as interest associations have filled an institutional vacuum, providing basic services such as communal kitchens, milk for children, income-earning schemes and cooperatives."
Women play a crucial role, as it is they who form and participate in many of the communal self-help organizations. Urbanization also brings decreasing birthrates and increased opportunities for women.
Already, as a result of the headlong urbanization, birthrates have plummeted in the developing world from 6 children per woman in the 1970s to 2.9 now. Twenty "less developed" countries, including China, Chile, Thailand, and Iran, have already dropped below the replacement rate of 2.1 children per woman.
And what about the young and fertile couples in developing countries? If current demographic trends continue, 2 billion of them will live in the cities, choosing to have fewer children. It's not because they're poor. They were poor in the countryside. In town they see opportunity to come up in the world. Having fewer children, who are better educated, is part of that equation.
[...]
"In the village, all there is for a woman is to obey her husband and family elders, pound grain, and sing. If she moves to town, she can get a job, start a business, and get education for her children." I heard this remark, made by a global community activist, in 2000 at a Fortune magazine conference in Aspen, Colo. It was enough to explode my Gandhi-esque romantic notions about the superiority of village life.
Cities are important. A dense city, like New York, is the most environmentally reponsible way to organize large numbers of people. Depending on their organization, cities have shown other benefits too. They represent our future, and our past.
Cities are remarkable organisms. They are the most long-lived of all human organizations. The oldest surviving corporations (Stora Enso in Sweden and the Sumitomo Group in Japan) are about 700 and 400 years old, respectively. The oldest universities (in Bologna and Paris) have lasted a thousand years. The oldest living religions (Hinduism and Judaism) date back about 3,500 years. But the town of Jericho has been continuously occupied for 10,500 years. Its neighbor Jerusalem has been an important city for 5,000 years, though it was conquered or destroyed 36 times and it suffered 11 conversions from one religion to another. Many cities die or decline to irrelevance, but some thrive for millennia.
If you're interested, read the full article here.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
February 21, 2008 - Turns Out, You Can Nail Jello to a Wall
Today I listen to a teleconference sponsored by the Leukemia and Lymphoma Foundation. This is another in their series of helpful educational events, whereby a couple thousand people listen in on their telephones, through a conference-call link, to a talk by a cancer expert. Questions and answers follow. Today’s speaker is Armand Keating, M.D., Professor of Medicine at the University of Toronto. His topic is “Stem Cell Transplantation: Current Trends and Future Directions.”Lest that topic sound dry and academic, let me remind you that, for people like me who may have to have a bag o’ stem cells dripped into our veins someday (or not), the subject has a certain amount of, shall we say, existential interest.
Anyway, one of the items most relevant to my situation came up during the Q&A time. Someone called in, saying he has transformed follicular lymphoma (like me), is in watch-and-wait mode (like me), and may have to have stem-cell transplant someday (yeah – you guessed it – like me). He was asking Dr. Keating to explain some of the factors the docs ought to take into account in deciding when it’s time to recommend a stem-cell transplant.
As you can imagine, the answer to that question is of more than passing interest to me.
Dr. Keating listed the following factors oncologists and their patients ought to consider:- the patient’s age
- the nature of the follicular lymphoma
- the responsiveness of the disease to conventional treatments
- co-existing medical problems the patient may have
- whether the patient is prepared to accept the long-term ambiguity of a chronic condition.
That last phrase, “long-term ambiguity,” strikes a chord. That’s the story of my life right now, I think to myself. I’m living with a lazy cancer that could be life-threatening, but that’s not immediately dangerous. It’s out of remission, but “stable.” It hasn’t grown in 6 months, but it hasn’t shrunk, either. Should I act calm, or worried? Should I press for further treatment, or just sit back and see what happens next? Can I get on with my life, or should I stay in some sort of holding pattern indefinitely? Yeah, you could say “long-term ambiguity” describes it.
Decision-making, in such circumstances, is like trying to nail the proverbial jello to a wall.
It’s interesting, to me, that the doctors have even figured this capacity for hanging around, cooling our heels, into their treatment protocols. “Does this patient have the nerve to wait around, doing nothing, for what could be a very long time?”Turns out you can nail jello to wall. It’s called living with an indolent lymphoma.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
February 20, 2008 - Still Stable
Not having heard anything about last Thursday’s CT scan results, today I put in a call to Dr. Lerner’s office. About an hour later, Denise from the office calls back with a message from the good doctor, who has examined the radiologist’s report. My cancer, he wants me to know, is “still stable.”That’s six months, now, of my affected lymph nodes remaining unchanged in size. This indolent lymphoma of mine is lazing around, doing pretty much nothing (or, at least nothing the scanner can detect).
It’s pretty good news, about as good as I could hope for. (It would be nice if the cancer disappeared completely, but I know that’s not likely.)
I’ll see Dr. Lerner again on March 5th. Since there’s no change, I expect there will be no change in his recommended treatment, either: watch and wait some more. But, we’ll see...
(02.20.08) Recommends:
The Mountain Goats.
Sometimes we sit around wondering how our culture will be remembered by future generations. Of today's cultural outputs, what music will survive, what books will be taught in high school English classes, what thinkers will influence the way the next generation understands the world.
However that history is ultimately written, as things stand now one thing is abundantly clear. John Darnielle is one of the most important songwriters we have. If you've ever talked to us about this in Real Life we're merely repeating ourselves, but we'll put it out there on the blog now: the closest we can ever imagine ourselves feeling like heroin addict is listening to The Mountain Goats. We mean this as a compliment, of course. The characters in John Darnielle songs have reached this level of pure, unadulterated misery; it makes us twitchy just listening to the narratives. But here's the thing. It's not like mindless nihilism. The characters embody what we imagine Janis Joplin means when she sings freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose. They are at rock bottom, but they have a defiance toward the world that is both scary and awesomely impressive. And it's a defiance we damn well better understand if we want to try to make any sense out of the world.
Or, at least this is how we hear things. Sometimes we wonder if our lives would have turned out differently had we only listened to "upbeat" "happy" music. Frankly, we feel sorry for those who don't listen to the Mountain Goats.
They released a new album earlier this month. We're busting out of our britches with excitement to see them when they come through town for two shows next month. So for now we'll leave you with an old favorite and a new favorite.
Old Favorite:
New Favorite:
Sometimes we sit around wondering how our culture will be remembered by future generations. Of today's cultural outputs, what music will survive, what books will be taught in high school English classes, what thinkers will influence the way the next generation understands the world.
However that history is ultimately written, as things stand now one thing is abundantly clear. John Darnielle is one of the most important songwriters we have. If you've ever talked to us about this in Real Life we're merely repeating ourselves, but we'll put it out there on the blog now: the closest we can ever imagine ourselves feeling like heroin addict is listening to The Mountain Goats. We mean this as a compliment, of course. The characters in John Darnielle songs have reached this level of pure, unadulterated misery; it makes us twitchy just listening to the narratives. But here's the thing. It's not like mindless nihilism. The characters embody what we imagine Janis Joplin means when she sings freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose. They are at rock bottom, but they have a defiance toward the world that is both scary and awesomely impressive. And it's a defiance we damn well better understand if we want to try to make any sense out of the world.
Or, at least this is how we hear things. Sometimes we wonder if our lives would have turned out differently had we only listened to "upbeat" "happy" music. Frankly, we feel sorry for those who don't listen to the Mountain Goats.
They released a new album earlier this month. We're busting out of our britches with excitement to see them when they come through town for two shows next month. So for now we'll leave you with an old favorite and a new favorite.
Old Favorite:
New Favorite:
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
(02.19.08) Recommends:
More Thoughts While On the Exercise Bike at the Gym.
One. Do drive-by shootings occur more frequently in Los Angeles than the national average, and if so, is it because the shooters just can't find any parking?
Two. Does stalking occur less frequently in Los Angeles than the national average, and if so, is it because the stalker has to wait in so much traffic that eventually the stalker gives up on ever making it to the stalkee's place of residence and instead, e.g., detours to a bar to drink away the road rage?
Three. Are you really wearing that spandex outfit? Really?
If you have answers to any of these questions, please send them along.
One. Do drive-by shootings occur more frequently in Los Angeles than the national average, and if so, is it because the shooters just can't find any parking?
Two. Does stalking occur less frequently in Los Angeles than the national average, and if so, is it because the stalker has to wait in so much traffic that eventually the stalker gives up on ever making it to the stalkee's place of residence and instead, e.g., detours to a bar to drink away the road rage?
Three. Are you really wearing that spandex outfit? Really?
If you have answers to any of these questions, please send them along.
Monday, February 18, 2008
(02.18.08) Recommends:
Mx Missiles by Andrew Bird.
If you've read this blog for any amount of time you know we're not really subtle about our love of Andrew Bird. If you want to see past musings, type his name up there in the search bar on the upper left hand corner of the blog. We're pretty sure by the time this blog is done we'll have used this space to individually recommended every song he'll ever put out. And our latest obsession is Mx Missiles. We recently hung out with a friend who's equally obsessed with Bird and Andrew Bird & The Mysterious Production of Eggs soundtracked parts of the eveing. Mx Missiles has lingered in our ears since.
Have a listen.
If you've read this blog for any amount of time you know we're not really subtle about our love of Andrew Bird. If you want to see past musings, type his name up there in the search bar on the upper left hand corner of the blog. We're pretty sure by the time this blog is done we'll have used this space to individually recommended every song he'll ever put out. And our latest obsession is Mx Missiles. We recently hung out with a friend who's equally obsessed with Bird and Andrew Bird & The Mysterious Production of Eggs soundtracked parts of the eveing. Mx Missiles has lingered in our ears since.
Have a listen.
February 18, 2008 - When Worlds Collide
This afternoon, I stop off at the gym where I’m a member, to work out on the exercise machines. As I step out of my car, I notice the car that’s parked in the place in front of mine.It’s hard not to notice this set of wheels. It’s a Rolls Royce. A real beauty.
Then, I look down and notice something else about it. This chariot is sporting an “M.D.” license plate.
On impulse, I take out my trusty cell phone and snap a picture of it. It’s an image that seems emblematic of the problems and paradoxes of our health care system.
I don’t know anything about the doctor whose car this is, nor what sort of paycheck this person pulls down. Maybe he or she has inherited wealth. Maybe this doctor does a lot of pro bono work for needy patients – earning much, but also “giving back” much. Not knowing any facts other than the license plate, I can’t judge the individual.
I will say one thing, though: driving around in a Rolls Royce with “M.D.” plates is a pretty gutsy thing to do, given the present state of frustration with the health-care funding system in this country. Most people around here are used to seeing their doctors driving around in a Lexus or BMW. But a Rolls? That seems to take in-your-face ostentation to new heights (or depths, depending on your perspective).Maybe this sight is affecting me this way because I just finished reading an article about a new study funded by the American Cancer Society. The researchers found that uninsured cancer patients and those on Medicare are significantly more likely to be diagnosed with late-stage disease than patients who have medical insurance. From the article:
“The widest disparities were noted in cancers that could be detected early through standard screening or assessment of symptoms, like breast cancer, lung cancer, colon cancer and melanoma. For each, uninsured patients were two to three times more likely to be diagnosed in Stage III or Stage IV rather than Stage I. Smaller disparities were found for non-Hodgkins lymphoma and cancers of the bladder, kidney, prostate, thyroid, uterus, ovary and pancreas.”
Did you catch those numbers? The uninsured are two to three times more likely to be diagnosed only after their cancer has reached an advanced stage. In the case of certain cancers, like colorectal cancers, the prognosis for such patients can be grim:
“The study cites previous research that shows patients receiving a diagnosis of colon cancer in Stage I have a five-year survival rate of 93 percent, compared with 44 percent at Stage III and 8 percent at Stage IV.”
How likely are uninsured people, in the absence of any symptoms, to go to a gastroenterologist on their 50th birthday for a routine colonoscopy? Not likely, I’d say, if they have to pay the full sticker price for the test. Yet, if there’s a malignancy silently growing in their digestive tract, a Stage I detection – when the likelihood of cure is 93% – is highly unlikely without a colonoscopy.
The implication of the study is clear: lack of medical insurance is one of the leading risk factors for life-threatening cancers.I wonder how often doctors who drive Rolls Royces think about that sort of thing?
Sunday, February 17, 2008
February 14, 2008 - Hearts and CT Scans
Today I go to Ocean Medical Center for my 3-month CT scan. As I walk into the room where the scan will take place, I immediately notice that the large, fiberglass-covered donut of the scanner is covered with red paper hearts, stuck up there with pieces of surgical tape.It’s Valentine’s Day, of course, and the radiology staff of the hospital is trying to make the place look festive. I give them an “A” for effort, even if the decorations look a bit haphazard.
It’s a reminder, to me, of what medicine is all about – or, at least, what it ought to be all about. Here’s a CT scanner, one of the highest of high-tech pieces of diagnostic equipment. Its purpose is to analyze the human body, breaking the complex reality that is a human life into constituent parts that can be expressed numerically. When I lie down on that sliding platform, and the whirring engine slides me slowly through the hole in the donut, the CT scanner will render my physical existence into images, that will tell my doctors what’s going on inside me. It’s a technological wonder.
Yet, as adept as the CT scanner is at depicting what I am, it’s absolutely blind to who I am. What are my thoughts, my hopes, my dreams, my fears? The scanner knows nothing of such things.
That’s where the paper hearts come in. They look incongruous, there, on the side of the scanner. But I’m glad to see them. They tell me the hospital staff cares about more than just numbers.
(02.17.08) Recommends:
Not Making Going to the Gym Harder on Others Than It Already Has To Be.
Okay, look. We will be the first to admit that despite the fact that we live in Southern California, and the day-time temperature has unlikely dropped below 72 degrees since we've been here, our extremities remain a pasty shade of white, an ashy shade of gray. We realize we're kind of hairy. We realize that once we get going, we really sweat quite profusely. And our faces turn a shade similar to strawberry jam.
In addition to our own considerable shortcomings, we live in a section of a city with notoriously heavy amounts of traffic and notoriously scare amounts of parking spots. There are no take-a-quick-drive-to-the-__________ (fill in the blank)'s here.
Taken together, it takes something resembling a leap of faith to get us to even show up to the gym.
There are a lot of poor saps out there like us. But we show up. We're trying.
Therefore, An Important Note: If you are going to use the gym equipment immediately adjacent to, or anywhere within the peripheral vision of, a person, please do us all a favor and do not behave in the manner of an insane person. Good Lord: life is already difficult enough, people.
In these days of multiculturalism and multilangualism, we do not want to risk "behavior in the manner of an insane person" getting lost in translation.
So.
An Example.
If somebody is using an exercise bike, and it is obvious -- perhaps from observing (but you should note your Insane Behavior Monitor going beep! beep! beep! when observing from too close a distance or too long a time) the aforementioned amounts of sweat or facial shade of strawberry jam -- that said person is in the middle of an intense workout, and is probably putting out maximum effort and still just basically holding on for dear life, you should not do the following.
You should not get on the exercise bike next to this person, and immediately start pedaling at what has to be 150 RPM while punching the air like you are training for a goddam boxing match, then leave after five minutes. This, this is Insane Behavior.
One. It is easy to get the machine up to 150 RPM the second you get on the bike. It is also easy to maintain 150 RPM for five minutes. Nobody is impressed with your speed. However, the person next to you probably thinks you're a douche bag.
Two. You are not, in fact, training for a goddam boxing match, are you? Answer: no, you are not. So enough with the punching, Billy Blanks.
Three. All of your commotion is very distracting to the poor person who we have already established is just trying to get through his or her daily workout, which in theory is supposed to offer respite from the traffic and the lack of parking and the commotion of the city and the headaches of work and the disappointments of life and the price of gasandrentandglobalwarmingandthenever-endingelectionseasonandetcetcetc and your routine, well, just stop it already, dude!
Okay, look. We will be the first to admit that despite the fact that we live in Southern California, and the day-time temperature has unlikely dropped below 72 degrees since we've been here, our extremities remain a pasty shade of white, an ashy shade of gray. We realize we're kind of hairy. We realize that once we get going, we really sweat quite profusely. And our faces turn a shade similar to strawberry jam.
In addition to our own considerable shortcomings, we live in a section of a city with notoriously heavy amounts of traffic and notoriously scare amounts of parking spots. There are no take-a-quick-drive-to-the-__________ (fill in the blank)'s here.
Taken together, it takes something resembling a leap of faith to get us to even show up to the gym.
There are a lot of poor saps out there like us. But we show up. We're trying.
Therefore, An Important Note: If you are going to use the gym equipment immediately adjacent to, or anywhere within the peripheral vision of, a person, please do us all a favor and do not behave in the manner of an insane person. Good Lord: life is already difficult enough, people.
In these days of multiculturalism and multilangualism, we do not want to risk "behavior in the manner of an insane person" getting lost in translation.
So.
An Example.
If somebody is using an exercise bike, and it is obvious -- perhaps from observing (but you should note your Insane Behavior Monitor going beep! beep! beep! when observing from too close a distance or too long a time) the aforementioned amounts of sweat or facial shade of strawberry jam -- that said person is in the middle of an intense workout, and is probably putting out maximum effort and still just basically holding on for dear life, you should not do the following.
You should not get on the exercise bike next to this person, and immediately start pedaling at what has to be 150 RPM while punching the air like you are training for a goddam boxing match, then leave after five minutes. This, this is Insane Behavior.
One. It is easy to get the machine up to 150 RPM the second you get on the bike. It is also easy to maintain 150 RPM for five minutes. Nobody is impressed with your speed. However, the person next to you probably thinks you're a douche bag.
Two. You are not, in fact, training for a goddam boxing match, are you? Answer: no, you are not. So enough with the punching, Billy Blanks.
Three. All of your commotion is very distracting to the poor person who we have already established is just trying to get through his or her daily workout, which in theory is supposed to offer respite from the traffic and the lack of parking and the commotion of the city and the headaches of work and the disappointments of life and the price of gasandrentandglobalwarmingandthenever-endingelectionseasonandetcetcetc and your routine, well, just stop it already, dude!
Awakening
Gasp!!! It's been five months now since I last posted anything on this Blog. Is that pathetic, or what? Well, if you thought I was gone, you were wrong. I have not dropped off the face of the earth. You are not rid of me. I have decided to come back.
The truth be know, I have largely shelved my writing-historian life the past five months and happily returned to my first profession, practicing law. Yes, by day, I am a registered, card-carrying Washington lawyer-lobbyist. You can look it up. Here's a link to my latest public report at OpenSecrets.Org: http://www.opensecrets.org/lobbyists/lobbyist.asp?txtname=Ackerman%2C+Kenneth&year=a&txttype=l ) The work has been interesting and productive and -- no apologies here -- it's been lucrative too. Writers have to eat and pay bills, and I like to eat well. And a few months of hourly billings certainly helps.
But so much water has run under the bridge these past few months: Hillary, Obama, McCain, easily the most exciting Presidential sweepstakes in memory, not to mention the ongoing drama between George Bush's last gasp White House and Nancy Pelosi's stumbling Congress, and now the economy bumbling over, of all things, subprime mortgages. And that's not even counting the New York Giants. What woeful, thrilling times we live in. How can a historian be silent?
Yet here I am, sitting silently all these months, a mere spectator. No, I haven't given up being a fervid political junkie. I continue to read my three newspapers each day (the Washington Post, NY Times, and Roll Call). I listen to POTUS 08 on XM radio, check the DrudgeReport and other internet sites, and tune in pundits for hours on end. No excuses. I like it, and wouldn't have it any other way. But every time I sit down to try and write a Blog post or an article, about politics, history, or anything else, I get distracted. Words dry up. I find other things needing attention. Writer's block? Perhaps. But these blocks don't come out of thin air.
Since my last book was published in May 2007 (Young J. Edgar: Hoover the Red Scare, and the Assault on Civil Liberties, 1919-1920), I admit that I've researched at least half a dozen good ideas for next topics, including possible narratives about figures as diverse as Emma Goldman, Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis, American socialist founder Eugene V. Debs, long-time autocratic House Speaker Joe Cannon, feminist pioneer Victoria Woodhull, John Adams and the Boston Tea Party, and even the adventures of a once-famous British ocean deep-sea diver from the 1880s named Alexander Lambert. All these ideas have great promise, real keepers. But here too, the writers block sets in. I find problem at every turn, and no path out of the forest.
So I've made a decision. To start writing again, I need to write. And be published. That's the only way to beat writers block. And in this modern world of cyberspace, the way you do it is through a Blog. So here I am Blogging -- and in this initial effort, I am Blogging in the worst stereotypical way: with a self-absorbed, nascissistic, whiney, inconclusive essay about nothing but myself. But I guess that's how you start. It doesn't become literature overnight.
So expect to see me posting more often on this space. What I'll write about, what shape it will take, ony time will tell. But plan to spent time having Coffee with Ken. I am going into writer's training. Any encouragement would be appreciated.
So that's it from the home front. Hope you'll put up with me in the meantime.
Thanks, and all the best. --KenA
The truth be know, I have largely shelved my writing-historian life the past five months and happily returned to my first profession, practicing law. Yes, by day, I am a registered, card-carrying Washington lawyer-lobbyist. You can look it up. Here's a link to my latest public report at OpenSecrets.Org: http://www.opensecrets.org/lobbyists/lobbyist.asp?txtname=Ackerman%2C+Kenneth&year=a&txttype=l ) The work has been interesting and productive and -- no apologies here -- it's been lucrative too. Writers have to eat and pay bills, and I like to eat well. And a few months of hourly billings certainly helps.
But so much water has run under the bridge these past few months: Hillary, Obama, McCain, easily the most exciting Presidential sweepstakes in memory, not to mention the ongoing drama between George Bush's last gasp White House and Nancy Pelosi's stumbling Congress, and now the economy bumbling over, of all things, subprime mortgages. And that's not even counting the New York Giants. What woeful, thrilling times we live in. How can a historian be silent?
Yet here I am, sitting silently all these months, a mere spectator. No, I haven't given up being a fervid political junkie. I continue to read my three newspapers each day (the Washington Post, NY Times, and Roll Call). I listen to POTUS 08 on XM radio, check the DrudgeReport and other internet sites, and tune in pundits for hours on end. No excuses. I like it, and wouldn't have it any other way. But every time I sit down to try and write a Blog post or an article, about politics, history, or anything else, I get distracted. Words dry up. I find other things needing attention. Writer's block? Perhaps. But these blocks don't come out of thin air.
Since my last book was published in May 2007 (Young J. Edgar: Hoover the Red Scare, and the Assault on Civil Liberties, 1919-1920), I admit that I've researched at least half a dozen good ideas for next topics, including possible narratives about figures as diverse as Emma Goldman, Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis, American socialist founder Eugene V. Debs, long-time autocratic House Speaker Joe Cannon, feminist pioneer Victoria Woodhull, John Adams and the Boston Tea Party, and even the adventures of a once-famous British ocean deep-sea diver from the 1880s named Alexander Lambert. All these ideas have great promise, real keepers. But here too, the writers block sets in. I find problem at every turn, and no path out of the forest.
So I've made a decision. To start writing again, I need to write. And be published. That's the only way to beat writers block. And in this modern world of cyberspace, the way you do it is through a Blog. So here I am Blogging -- and in this initial effort, I am Blogging in the worst stereotypical way: with a self-absorbed, nascissistic, whiney, inconclusive essay about nothing but myself. But I guess that's how you start. It doesn't become literature overnight.
So expect to see me posting more often on this space. What I'll write about, what shape it will take, ony time will tell. But plan to spent time having Coffee with Ken. I am going into writer's training. Any encouragement would be appreciated.
So that's it from the home front. Hope you'll put up with me in the meantime.
Thanks, and all the best. --KenA
Friday, February 15, 2008
(02.15.08) Recommends:
Don't Think Twice, It's Alright.
Okay so no one can dispute that Bob Dylan is a legend or that this song is legendary. To this end enough has been said and written about both to fill up entire internets. But please indulge us as we toss another one into the tube.
Not a month goes by without us giving this song a listen. It always speaks to us. It manages to move us and comfort us, to make us feel happy or sad, but mostly it reminds us that it's necessary and proper to set aside four minutes out of this hectic life to be contemplative.
And it's worth nothing that this song has been around for literally our entire lives.
Which means:
We sought refuge in it's words when we were confused 12-year olds [a child I am told]. We seek guidance from it now, standing -- confused again, we must admit -- at the dawn of 30 [a child I am told].
The song has literally become part of us. It's seen our past and knows our present and will be part of the toolkit that we bring to bear on the issues that we will face in the future. We find strength in it's longevity and we're hard pressed to come up with many other things in our lives that can make such a claim.
We love this timeless quality of music. And we think it's important to reflect on this quality when we get too caught up in thinking about how digital technology will affect music, and how the law will deal with digital technology, and how a generation of post-Napster people will view the law.
In the end, we turn to music because it's been there for us before, it's what we've always known. We've had rough patches in the past and the music is proof both of those old wounds and of the fact that we soldiered on, and things turned out okay.
Oh, things turned out way better than okay.
Okay so no one can dispute that Bob Dylan is a legend or that this song is legendary. To this end enough has been said and written about both to fill up entire internets. But please indulge us as we toss another one into the tube.
Not a month goes by without us giving this song a listen. It always speaks to us. It manages to move us and comfort us, to make us feel happy or sad, but mostly it reminds us that it's necessary and proper to set aside four minutes out of this hectic life to be contemplative.
And it's worth nothing that this song has been around for literally our entire lives.
Which means:
- We've known it longer than we've known family members, friends, loved ones
- We've known it longer than we've known the Bible, been allowed in a voting booth, held a job.
- We've known it longer than we've known some of humankind's most vexing elements: love, intoxication, indifference. etc.
We sought refuge in it's words when we were confused 12-year olds [a child I am told]. We seek guidance from it now, standing -- confused again, we must admit -- at the dawn of 30 [a child I am told].
The song has literally become part of us. It's seen our past and knows our present and will be part of the toolkit that we bring to bear on the issues that we will face in the future. We find strength in it's longevity and we're hard pressed to come up with many other things in our lives that can make such a claim.
We love this timeless quality of music. And we think it's important to reflect on this quality when we get too caught up in thinking about how digital technology will affect music, and how the law will deal with digital technology, and how a generation of post-Napster people will view the law.
In the end, we turn to music because it's been there for us before, it's what we've always known. We've had rough patches in the past and the music is proof both of those old wounds and of the fact that we soldiered on, and things turned out okay.
Oh, things turned out way better than okay.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Ethiopia - bizarre news of the day
The EPRDF (Ethiopian Govt.) has assembled a team of people with a task to edit and change wikipedia entries regarding Ethiopia. The first target was Amnesty International. The EPRDF introduced an entry about Amnesty international's involvement in helping the "extremist" private media in Ethiopia in Wikipedia.(...More from EZ)
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Ethiopia - A Moment With...Haile Gerima
What struggles do independent filmmakers face in bringing projects to fruition? Filmmaker Haile Gerima talks about these issues and his film 'Sankofa,' a widely acclaimed movie about slavery. He also describes the influence of his Ethiopian heritage on his work.
Ethiopians die in Somali port blast
An explosion killed at least 20 people and wounded a hundred more in a northern Somali port where immigrants often try to cross to Yemen.
Ethiopia - HR2003 revisited
An American law professor, teaching at the Ethiopian Ministry of Education’s Mekelle University in the Tigray region of Ethiopia, had her contract terminated last week by university officials.
The administration claims “incompetence” was the reason for her termination. But Professor Abigail Salisbury claims that her public voicing of alternative views on the U.S. House of Representative’s Ethiopia Democracy and Accountability Act of 2007 (HR2003) got her fired.
After failing to convince the university’s academic commission that her contract should not be terminated, Professor Salisbury is planning to depart Ethiopia. The firing quickly followed an article she published in “The Jurist,” the online University of Pittsburgh law review journal, in which she described candidly her participation in a Mekelle University Law Faculty forum on HR 2003.
Taking one stance, Professor Salisbury writes, “Listening to the Ethiopians talk about the bill’s various points during the discussion forum, I… wonder[ed] if America hadn’t done something foolish…by asserting its right to determine the domestic affairs of a foreign nation.” She also points out that the factual findings section of HR2003 must be updated to reflect current human rights progress in Ethiopia.
But based on the passionate testimonies of her own international human rights law students at Mekelle, conveyed to her within mid-term essays she assigned, Salisbury reached an alternative conclusion – that HR2003 should be seen as an attempt by American foreign policy makers not to threaten Ethiopian sovereignty, but to improve the lives of poor Ethiopians who are truly suffering under a government with a firm grip on freedom of speech.
“I had been very careful in wording my assignment. I asked the students to select a human rights issue in Ethiopia…and find another country dealing with that same situation. They were required to then compare the actions of the two nations,” Salisbury writes. According to her, a number of students wrote that they would never give their real opinions to an Ethiopian professor, for fear of “being turned in to the government and punished.”
According to Professor Salisbury, the terms of her contract make it clear that in the case of premature termination, she should receive three months’ pay. Claiming they have an alternative interpretation, University officials have decided not to honor this clause. But Salisbury is more disappointed by the failure of the university’s professors and officials to honor freedom of speech. “The dean [of Mekelle Law School] told me never to be afraid to write anything,” the young American law professor recalled for SSI.
HR2003 was passed in October 2007 by the US House of Representatives and is now being debated by the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. It proposes to withdraw “nonessential” assistance from Ethiopia until the federal government meets human rights obligations outlined in the Act.
The administration claims “incompetence” was the reason for her termination. But Professor Abigail Salisbury claims that her public voicing of alternative views on the U.S. House of Representative’s Ethiopia Democracy and Accountability Act of 2007 (HR2003) got her fired.
After failing to convince the university’s academic commission that her contract should not be terminated, Professor Salisbury is planning to depart Ethiopia. The firing quickly followed an article she published in “The Jurist,” the online University of Pittsburgh law review journal, in which she described candidly her participation in a Mekelle University Law Faculty forum on HR 2003.
Taking one stance, Professor Salisbury writes, “Listening to the Ethiopians talk about the bill’s various points during the discussion forum, I… wonder[ed] if America hadn’t done something foolish…by asserting its right to determine the domestic affairs of a foreign nation.” She also points out that the factual findings section of HR2003 must be updated to reflect current human rights progress in Ethiopia.
But based on the passionate testimonies of her own international human rights law students at Mekelle, conveyed to her within mid-term essays she assigned, Salisbury reached an alternative conclusion – that HR2003 should be seen as an attempt by American foreign policy makers not to threaten Ethiopian sovereignty, but to improve the lives of poor Ethiopians who are truly suffering under a government with a firm grip on freedom of speech.
“I had been very careful in wording my assignment. I asked the students to select a human rights issue in Ethiopia…and find another country dealing with that same situation. They were required to then compare the actions of the two nations,” Salisbury writes. According to her, a number of students wrote that they would never give their real opinions to an Ethiopian professor, for fear of “being turned in to the government and punished.”
According to Professor Salisbury, the terms of her contract make it clear that in the case of premature termination, she should receive three months’ pay. Claiming they have an alternative interpretation, University officials have decided not to honor this clause. But Salisbury is more disappointed by the failure of the university’s professors and officials to honor freedom of speech. “The dean [of Mekelle Law School] told me never to be afraid to write anything,” the young American law professor recalled for SSI.
HR2003 was passed in October 2007 by the US House of Representatives and is now being debated by the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. It proposes to withdraw “nonessential” assistance from Ethiopia until the federal government meets human rights obligations outlined in the Act.
Watch the War Child trailer, the story of Emmanuel Jal, a Child Soldier turned Hip Hop Artist
Much attention at the 58th Berlin Festival has been on 'War Child', a documentary by first-time director Christian Karim Chrobog. It relates the stunning story of singer Emmanuel Jal who, in the space of a decade, made a remarkable transition from child soldier in Sudan to international hip-hop musician.
Jal, now 28, was seven when his mother was killed. Soldiers raped his sister, and he was hauled off for military training by Sudanese Liberation Army forces in the late 1980s, and given an AK47 taller than himself.
Trapped in the midst of a civil war, he survived front-line action before escaping after five "lost" years with 300 other boys. They endured a three-month trek before reaching safety.
[...]
Today, Jal is famous throughout Africa as a rapper, and for his work with the UN, Amnesty International and Oxfam in campaigning against employment of child soldiers and the illegal trade of arms. His first song Gua, which means "power" in Arabic, streaked to the top of the charts in Kenya. <IPS>
Here's the War Child Trailer:
Jal is fantastically talented. If you're a fan of hip-hop or African music, definitely listen to some of his tracks, try on his YouTube channel (I love this). A couple of songs are also streaming at Warchildmovie.com. Warning: the music starts automatically (and loudly).
February 13, 2008 - Hope Does Not Disappoint
“What price do you put on hope? Is $3,000 a week too much?” So begins a health column from the February 4th Newsweek. Jerry Adler, the columnist, is telling the story of a couple named Said and Mary Nedlouf. She had advanced breast cancer that her oncologist was calling untreatable. Her husband didn’t want her to lose hope. So, they agreed she would go to another doctor and pursue costly homeopathic treatments that weren’t covered by their insurance. The bottom line? $41,000, which the Nedloufs paid out of pocket.The treatments did Mary little good. She died anyway, pretty much when the traditional-medicine doctors had predicted she would. As for Said, when he recalls the homeopathic doctor’s questionable advice, he’s left feeling angry. He feels the homeopath gave his wife false hope, encouraging her to hold out for a cure – when she would probably have been better advised to “get her affairs in order,” as they say.
This doctor, says the grieving husband, “robbed me of precious time to console her, to come to closure, to prepare for her departure.”
I place pretty near zero confidence in homeopathic treatments, myself. Everything I’ve read about this school of alternative medicine – a pharmacology based on an odd, 19th-century premise that repeatedly diluting medicinal substances with water makes them more (rather than less) effective – sounds like complete hokum to me. Even if homeopathic medicines did have some real medical value at full strength (a premise that’s very much open to question), then by what stretch of the imagination does diluting them make them more effective?
Yes, I know some people claim to have derived benefits from homeopathic treatment – and I would never presume to tell fellow patients not to seek out an otherwise-harmless treatment they think could possibly help. I'm sure, also, that many homeopathic practitioners are fine people, and practice listening skills in ways not so many traditional physicians are willing or able to do. Yet, I also know the placebo effect is a powerful thing. I see little evidence that homeopathy is more effective than a sugar pill, if that sugar pill is prescribed by a doctor the patient trusts.The Newsweek article raises, for me, the question of hope. What is it? Where do we find it? How do we maintain it, over time? When – if ever – should we stop hoping?
“Hope,” says Paul in Romans 5:5, “does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” This is an image of abundance, abundance in the midst of utter desolation.Paul can speak of such things because he has already seen, in his own life, the love of God poured out in such abundance that it overflows. Paul doesn’t speak of suffering as one who has never known it. Rather, he speaks as one with scars on his soul – one who has known not only persecutions but also what it feels like to have been a persecutor himself, and to have repented of that evil.
“I know what it is,” he writes soberly to the Philippians, “to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need.” (Philippians 4:12).
Then, and only then, does Paul goes on to add these well-loved words: “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (v. 13). Paul can make that audacious claim because he has had the experience of casting his body off a spiritual cliff, and finding God’s arms were there to catch him.
In what, indeed, does our hope consist, as cancer patients? Is it in the unique pharmacology of the next new treatment to come down the pike? Or, is hope something else altogether, something we discover deep within us and bring to our work of self-healing?
There’s also a communal aspect to hope. In the words of Chinese author Lin Yutang, “Hope is like a road in the country. There was never a road, but when many people walk on it, the road comes into existence.”
I find something deeply profound, and remarkably true-to-life, about that humble image. Yes, of course it is the imprints of many feet that make a rustic footpath. It’s easy to see the footpath when others have been that way before. Yet, who is it who first grasps the vision that there ought be a pathway here, and begins the work of walking it?Poet Emily Dickinson calls hope:
“...the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all...
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.”
No: hope does not disappoint us – we, who live with cancer. True hope, hope that’s founded on something stronger than mere pharmaceutical formulas, can never disappoint.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Speaking of Starvation, How's that Biofuel Industry?
From an article by George Monbiot from a few months ago:
Monbiot says the biofuel trade
He goes on to analyze the relative inefficiency of current generation biofuels (corn ethanol for instance), and reminds us:
People are starving, but hey, at least the big rich greenwashing countries can look all environmentally friendly without anyone having to, say, drive less. 'Cause that would be a real tragedy.
It doesn't get madder than this. Swaziland is in the grip of a famine and receiving emergency food aid. Forty per cent of its people are facing acute food shortages. So what has the government decided to export? Biofuel made from one of its staple crops, cassava. The government has allocated several thousand hectares of farmland to ethanol production in the county of Lavumisa, which happens to be the place worst hit by drought.
Monbiot says the biofuel trade
should be frozen until second-generation fuels - made from wood or straw or waste - become commercially available. Otherwise the superior purchasing power of drivers in the rich world means that they will snatch food from people’s mouths. Run your car on virgin biofuel and other people will starve.
He goes on to analyze the relative inefficiency of current generation biofuels (corn ethanol for instance), and reminds us:
If there is one blindingly obvious fact about biofuel it’s that it is not a smallholder crop. It is an internationally-traded commodity which travels well and can be stored indefinitely, with no premium for local or organic produce. Already the Indian government is planning 14m hectares of jatropha plantations. In August the first riots took place among the peasant farmers being driven off the land to make way for them.
If the governments promoting biofuels do not reverse their policies, the humanitarian impact will be greater than that of the Iraq war. Millions will be displaced, hundreds of millions more could go hungry. This crime against humanity is a complex one, but that neither lessens nor excuses it.
People are starving, but hey, at least the big rich greenwashing countries can look all environmentally friendly without anyone having to, say, drive less. 'Cause that would be a real tragedy.
Friday, February 8, 2008
(02.08.08) Recommends:
An Urban Conversation in Los Feliz.
Several weeks ago we went to brunch with a Fellow Blogger at Alcove Cafe & Bakery in Los Feliz. Today's LA Times has a lovely article about a chess table located in the cafe that has turned into a repository for notes left by patrons. If you've ever found yourself mesmerized by Found Magazine, Post Secrets, or craigslist Missed Connections, you'll love this article.
Several weeks ago we went to brunch with a Fellow Blogger at Alcove Cafe & Bakery in Los Feliz. Today's LA Times has a lovely article about a chess table located in the cafe that has turned into a repository for notes left by patrons. If you've ever found yourself mesmerized by Found Magazine, Post Secrets, or craigslist Missed Connections, you'll love this article.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
(02.07.08) Recommends:
Headlines that make you go "hmmmm?"
There was a story on ESPN.com today about Pedro Martinez being filmed at a cockfight in the Dominican Republic. The headline was "Pedro Emphasizes He Was At Cockfight As Spectator." Hmmmm, was he concerned that people thought he actually got into the ring to fight a rooster?
There was a story on ESPN.com today about Pedro Martinez being filmed at a cockfight in the Dominican Republic. The headline was "Pedro Emphasizes He Was At Cockfight As Spectator." Hmmmm, was he concerned that people thought he actually got into the ring to fight a rooster?
Ethiopia - IT IS ALL ABOUT US AND OUR FUTURE
Many years ago, I remember listening a story on Deutche Weille (German Radio). The story was about a German who once visited Ethiopia. He traveled to two neighboring villages which were not in good terms.When he arrived in the first village he received a warm welcome. Elders showed him an excellent Ethiopian hospitality.(More...)
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
February 6, 2008 - Remember That You Are Dust
"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." These are the words I repeat over and over again this Ash Wednesday, as I do every year. I speak them as I smear a thumbful of ashes in a cross-shaped pattern on church members' foreheads, as they come up to me during the worship service.The imposition of ashes is a curiously intimate act. It involves a brief moment of human touch, applied to a highly sensitive area, the face. Most of us aren’t eager to have others outside our immediate family touch us on the face. There are a few exceptions: doctors, barbers, or – for women – maybe a hairdresser or makeup artist. That’s about it: other than a minister or priest, on Ash Wednesday or in the less-common rite of anointing with oil.
We Presbyterians haven't been doing this ashes thing for very long – about 15 years or so, in this congregation. In years past, most Presbyterians have shrunk from the imposition of ashes, considering it – for no good theological reason – "too Catholic." But those days are pretty much behind us. Even though we make a big deal about it being voluntary, nearly everyone comes forward, now, to receive them.For me, the most emotionally powerful encounters involving the ashes are with the very old and the very young. When an elderly person comes up to me, and I say, "to dust you shall return," I figure both of us know that return could happen any time now. It's not an especially sad or mournful thing. It's just the way it is, the way of the world.
It's even more poignant when the person is sick – like the advanced cancer patient who came in to see me this morning, to talk about her funeral plans. Her doctor says she’s got a few months to live. She's here at the Ash Wednesday service this evening. I wonder what the ashes mean to her, this year of all years?
When young children come up – ushered forward by a parent, or perhaps even held in a parent's arms – it's something else altogether. It seems deeply wrong, almost an obscenity, to smudge ashes on such a little forehead and say "remember that you are dust." It feels, somehow, like I'm marking these youngsters for death. A powerful symbol, these ashes.In a death-denying and sin-denying culture, to smear ashes on a person's forehead is a deeply counter-cultural act. The ashes are a reminder both of our mortality and of our tendency to sin. They're a reminder, in other words, of our creatureliness. It never ceases to amaze me how many people come up to me and ask for that reminder, then tell me afterwards how meaningful it feels to them.
This afternoon, I was in Dr. Lerner's office for my monthly port flush. Unbuttoning my shirt, I let the nurse probe around by my collarbone with a surgical-gloved finger, until she located the hard little button under my skin. Then, after smearing the area liberally with antiseptic, with a nursely combination of gentleness and firmness she swiftly plunged a needle through my skin and into the port.
I've had this done so many times, now, it's no longer troubling to me. I know the pinprick of pain will last a brief moment, and no longer.
This, too, is a reminder of my mortality – a reminder of the cancer I can't feel, but that I know is still there, somewhere within me. "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
February 5, 2008 - Mythbusting Canadian Health Care
“Mythbusting Canadian Health Care” is the title of an article I just read online. Granted, it’s on a website that leans decidedly to the left – so, any of you readers who blanch at the “L” word (that’s “liberal”) may not be inclined to click on the link and actually read it. But, I think you should.It’s worth a read, because – in a cool, calm and reasonable fashion – its author, Sara Robinson, details what the real experience of Canadians is with their single-payer health system. Sara is an American citizen living in Canada, and participates in the Canadian health care system. So, she has a firsthand perspective from both sides of the border.
No, Canada’s system is not “socialized medicine” (it’s a universal, single-payer system: “Medicare for all,” some have called it). No, the Canadian government doesn’t choose people’s doctors for them. No, the quality of care doesn’t suffer (although there are some longer wait times for a few high-tech tests, like MRIs). No, Canadian doctors aren’t government employees. Yes, Canadian doctors make a bit less money than their American counterparts, but they also don’t have to spend hours on the phone every week arguing with patients’ insurance companies, and they don’t have to employ so many clerical people in their offices.
Robinson makes what I think is a very convincing case. But then, if you’ve been reading my blog for long, you know I’m feeling pretty frustrated with the creaking, ungainly machine that is our American health-care system – a system that deprives far too many people of medical care they need and can’t afford.Read it, though, and make up your own mind.
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