I happened across this article at Slate regarding how soccer matches get rigged the other day. I thought it was a fascinating read on a subject I knew was out there, but haven’t given much thought. While it made me slightly depressed for the sport, it also made me desperately want to watch a match. I decided at the start of the term that I didn’t get to watch any soccer until the dissertation is done. There’s a carrot at the finish line though since the Euro 2012 will happen the month after I defend. This will likely turn into a soccer blog for the duration. Fair warning.

Wild Flag on Letterman. That is all.

Chris Moody has an article up at Yahoo News that represents one of my favorite sorts of articles to bring up in composition classes. Moody provides an overview of the strategies Republican thinkers have come up with to counter the rhetoric of Occupy Wall Street. I highly recommend a full read of them based on the insight it provides into both the Occupy movement (or at least popular perceptions of it) and into the political politics of the day.

What I’m immediately drawn to though is the way that these sorts of stories highlight the fluidity of language and the oftentimes quite easy means to manipulate it. In the composition classroom I find an article like this one to be a way to make a compelling case for specificity in writing and, above all, the importance of evidence. Moody’s article is a great one for pointing out just how much our political rhetoricians tend to talk about these issues in generalities that ultimately mean nothing. Changing phrase A to equally meaningless but less offensive phrase B doesn’t get you anywhere and once they’ve seen it in action, students are quick to point out the doublespeak. Watching students begin to take this sort of rhetoric apart (whatever its source) and replace it with their own nuanced critiques is honestly one of the best aspects of teaching composition.

I have to say that number 7 on the list Moody gives us is my personal favorite. “I get it” is just a dodgy sort of response to the legit concerns of voters. I’d think that in most cases it would fail (miserably) in signifying that the speaker comes remotely close to “getting it.” The strategy that Frank Luntz (the Republican strategist who came up with these talking points) suggests here tells it all. After saying “I get it” you’re supposed to start offering Republican solutions to the problems. Maybe Luntz also said that you should listen carefully to the complaints first. Let’s be honest though, the strategy in practice translates to “I get it, now please be quiet so I can talk at you until you vote for me.” Ultimately that’s politics though. I’m not saying this to be pessimistic either. You can be involved in politics and make a real difference in society. At the end of the day though, they’re selling a product though. To engage in an actual dialogue you have to see the boundaries your interlocutors are attempting to establish and see when those boundaries are being manipulated to your detriment. “I get it” is just that sort of manipulation.

The Guardian has a short piece with an interview with Alan Moore about the ubiquity of the V for Vendetta mask in recent protest movements.

In other news, I recently re-watched the 2006 film adaptation of V for Vendetta. I have to disagree with Lamont’s characterization of the film as being quite bad. I think it holds up. It pales in comparison to the book, but that’s the case nine times out of ten anyway. I will also admit to some major issues with the more “Hollywood” attempts to make it appeal to a wider audience. It’s an enjoyable film that nevertheless captures many of the themes and critical questions from the book. I also appreciate the attempt by the filmmakers to update the concepts in the book for a distinctly post 9/11 world. I can’t say I agree with all the creative decisions, but it manages to raise a lot of productive questions.

Obviously, this blog has been on a bit of a hiatus lately. The Fall term started with a vengeance back in September and while I’d hoped to return to the world of blogging at first, I eventually gave up. Between the dissertation and teaching my priorities need to be elsewhere. (Frankly, my students are always going to come first, which means the blog will be the first thing to fall to the wayside.)

That said, I’ve been missing the pattern of blogging I started to get into over the summer. A number of contributing circumstances are going to allow me to have a little more freedom to start posting here again. I’ve also been collecting interesting links about current events related to economic and class issues in the U.S. that I’m planning to start collecting here again (for instance, the various Occupy Movements and particularly events at UC Davis.) Sadly, my schedule isn’t going to magically clear up and allow me to look into these links in any sort of depth. Still, my plan is to work on striking some level of balance that allows me to keep the semi-creative outlet of the blog rolling while still meeting all my professional obligations.

In short, I’m back. Mostly.

Also, thanks for reading despite the long lulls between posts.

For the last ten years I have sported facial hair of some sort or other. Primarily it’s been a goatee, but I’ve rocked the full beard a bit in that time as well. The number ten is a powerful thing though. Steeped in arbitrariness, it calls on us to make “best of” lists and take stock of our pop culture, our lives or just ask that immortal question from the Talking Heads: “Well, how did I get here?”

It’s with this frame of mind that I realized I was curious what my chin might look like after ten years. More precisely I started thinking that it might be worth it to shave and see what I looked like without the ever-present facial hair. Besides, if I didn’t like it, it would simply be the equivalent of a bad haircut. Given a few weeks I’d be back to my normal visage. It’s been an eye opening experience. Allow me then to share some of the more important of my findings:

Things I have learned since I shaved off my beard…

– There’s such a thing as shaver’s remorse.

– My chin has not in fact gained the chiseled prominence I had hoped for when I started shaving. Ten years is apparently not enough time.

– The middle of August is much colder than I had thought it was going to be.

– I can look like I’m eighteen even though I’m over thirty.

– Staying clean shaven will result in the loss of countless bartender hours as they painstakingly try to reconcile the baby-faced youngun’ in front of them with my drivers license photo in which I sport a full beard. At least that’s what my one experience of being carded at a brew pub last week suggests.

– You are suddenly able to recall all of the beverages, foods, and general character building experiences that were supposed to put “hair on your chest.

– None of them make chin hair grow any faster.

– It’s not as bad as I originally thought it was. Still, I prefer the bearded look. As does most everyone else besides my mother.

Things others have learned since I shaved off my beard…

– I’m just as camera shy without the beard as I was with it. So, no. There won’t be any pictures.

I came across numerous links to Drew Westen’s opinion piece at the New York Times this morning. It’s a quite intriguing piece and worth a read if you have the time. I’m going to sidestep outright politics here because, frankly, it’s my blog and I prefer not to get into it here of all places. Instead I just want to note the emphasis that Westen places on the stories politicians tell. It’s an intriguing approach to articulating what is something of a national longing right now. Whatever the case, the real story, as Westen points out, is there are a lot (too many) people wondering how to get by in this economy.