What has to happen to keep the US in the World Cup? I found this handy summary.
Sheesh.
Those bloggers sure are a prolific bunch. I can barely read everything that I've missed, and hitting "mark all read" is getting kind of tempting. If you think I missed something especially noteworthy, please tell me below; if I've forgotten to come by your place and read what you've written lately, I apologize...I'll get there eventually.
I recently saw this distressing press release posted on Tsunami Help for Sri Lanka:
In particular, we have received reports of incidents of rape, gang rape, molestation, and physical abuse of women and girls in the course of unsupervised rescue operations and while resident in temporary shelters, particularly in the south. Apart from these incidents (the number of which is not known), these reports have also indicated that women’s mobility continues to be restricted due to the fear of sexual violence. No proper monitoring body has been set up to receive complaints, to take action against perpetrators, or to ensure the safety of women in these areas.
As usual, it seems, women and girls are the ones most at risk. I hope the organization's call for monitoring is heard by the right people.
Regardless of the stickiness of the songs, Katamari Damacy was one of the best presents ever.
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Why do the work when someone else already has? Andrew wrote up a nice description of our neighborhood to go with his earlier post of businesses we can walk to, and he's made an annotated map [part one, part two] (posted at Flickr) of the area, as well. From his links to the neighborhood association, I came upon this old map of the section right where our house is, dated to 1890. Our house is near the large number 15.
The ratio of flat to bumpy is fairly low this year.
[A friend's four-year-old charge once asked for "no flat presents. Only bumpy presents" at Christmas. Translation: "Fewer books, more action figures, please."]
If the National Weather Service is right about this, we'll be in total lock-down mode here over Christmas. Fun.
(This isn't because the weather is especially dangerous but because people here can't drive in any kind of inclement conditions; it's just safer to stay in.)
Happy shortest day. See the sun at Newgrange, or read a little background on various aspects of the holiday. And don't forget that now's a good time to think about saving Tara...
We claim to miss the change of seasons, but really when it comes down to it a 60-degree day in December with blue sky, a gentle breeze, and horizontal winter sunlight all conspire to make those desires seem less pressing. It's lovely here.
It’s still raining. The thunderstorm that rumbled on and on last night dumped about three inches, adding to the several inches we collected last week. We closed the windows at one point because the incessant noise of the rain was just too much, there was nothing musical or soothing about it. Just noise.
But at least the rain let up long enough for me to get out of the house and go walking; now I can face another day of cabin fever with something of a level head. Shoal Creek is really high. You know it’s been an especially bad flood when there are fish all over the sidewalk…yuck. With the current up like this, it reminded me of walking along the Dreisam every morning when I was in Freiburg (although I never saw fish on the sidewalk there. And actually the water is much cleaner because it’s not flood water). Almost exactly at the halfway point of my walk it started raining again, but by that point I was already soggy from the grass and the trees.
Rainy rainy rain. Here's one view of campus in the rain, but here is a more impressionistic, and somehow more authentic, record of what it's like here right now.
I changed the text in the 'about' box from 'writing' to 'finishing' the diss. How about that for a little self-reassurance?
For the last three days it's been raining nearly non-stop. Before that, the temperature had dropped into the low 50s and 40s at night (though now we're back in the smarmy 60s). Looking out my window this past week you might have thought you were in any number of northern European places (though not as cold, I know, but WHV does get the odd, warm, humid winter day). It made me remember how important a tea warmer is in the cold/dark part of the year: it keeps the tea warm and it makes a pleasant glow, two things that help keep the cold and damp from creeeeping into your bones and your soul.
[But I don't use my Stövchen as much as I once did because I just can't handle all the tea. When I think of what my tea tolerance once was...a litre at a time was pretty normal.]
I have finally made the last cup of Caro from the container I bought last summer. Yes, it was a little old and dried out, but it still dissolved and it tastes fine. Those of you who know Caro may be thinking, it NEVER tastes fine; but I love it and depend on it during the winter. It keeps me from drinking coffee, and really you can only drink so much herbal tea, so Caro it is. The problem is that it's awfully pricey to buy it here in the States, so I bring back a big ol' jar each time I'm in Germany. I asked Andrew to look for it while he was in Amsterdam, but I'm betting he wasn't able to find any ("That's really more of a German thing," meinte der Gastbruder Jan). Anyway, I'm not getting my hopes up and am preparing to go to Central Market and slap down a fiver for a teeny little glass jar of the stuff.
*seufz*
Somehow yesterday I was able to get things done. I don't know if it hadn't hit me yet, or what, but today I'm so drained that I can't work at all. A few pages of translation (Paul Zanker on the building programs of the Roman emperors--yowza) and that's it so far. How about you? Does your brain still work, or have you caved in to despair? I'm waiting for my second wind of Just Outrage and Grim Resolve to come in. I'll let you know when it does.
I'm sure you all are, too. If you need me I'll be under this rock here.
Andreas Kilb at the FAZ reviews the Bourne Supremacy, waxing rhapsodic over its portrayal of Berlin:
Was in den schachbrettartigen amerikanischen Städten unmöglich erscheint, wird in Berlin wieder filmisch plausibel: das Sichverirren, Sichverlieren am hellichten Tag...aus dem Hotel am Kurfürstendamm, wo ihn die Polizei überrascht, entwischt er in eine nahe U-Bahn-Station, am Bahnhof Friedrichstraße springt er von der S-Bahn-Brücke auf einen Spreekahn.
But Kilb doesn't mention the creative use of the city that I thought I saw when we watched it a few months ago...or was I wrong?
So last summer when I was having dinner with a friend from WHV she giggled when she heard me speak in what she thought was a very northern German accent, coastal even, when she, after living in Leipzig for 8 years, had pretty much lost her own. But what she really laughed about was when I used the expression, "Ich schmeiß' mich weg." Seems this was a phrase she hadn't heard in many, many years and so I was something like a talking time capsule (like if someone said "tubular" without any irony) from the end of the '80s.
But today I saw it used at Catwalk, so maybe it's not just me. I don't feel quite so archaic now.
[upon closer examination (a google search) I see it all over the place. Was hatte sie denn nur?]
Lots of interesting comments filing in on Jelinek winning the Nobel Prize this year. I was struck by two passages which demonstrate something about perception or point of view. First, Momus complained of the British press' coverage of the award (this essay is really more RIP Derrida, and it's totally worth reading):
The British coverage of both these events has been much more superficial, focusing on incidentals rather than the actual concerns of their work. Jelinek is seen as a feminist by BBC World Service (a propaganda station which tends to use human rights as a stick to beat muslim, communist and developing nations with) and, between the lines, her prize is presented as a token 'gesture to women writers' on the part of a guilty Stockholm.
Then, this morning in the FR I see that Ina Hartwig has the same concerns:
Während Le Monde die österreichische Schriftstellerin knapp und kundig in die "Tradition der Nestbeschmutzer von Karl Kraus bis Thomas Bernhard" stellte, polemisiert der aktuelle Spiegel gegen die frisch gekürte Nobelpreisträgerin wie ein losgelassener Kampfhund: Quoten-Entscheidung, abgehangene Avantgarde, Belohnung für politische Korrektheit, lauten die von schierem Ressentiment diktierten, billig hingeknallten Urteile.
Anyway, the thing that struck me was that Hartwig thinks that "in einem englischsprachigen Land wäre eine derartige Verletzung der Anstandsregeln, eine solche Umgehung der journalistischen Basics kaum vorstellbar." While it might not be as bad as she describes in the German press, Momus' comments seem to suggest there's a similar perception of quota-filling at the BBC. I'll have to have a look at the other English-language commentary to see how pervasive it is.
Back from the GSA. I have a lot of things I could write about (people I met, the art I saw) but I thought I'd start with this: I went to a great panel about Christoph Schlingensief's recent works and how we might understand them in view of recent, um, events in Germany of the electoral and cinematic variety. I thought that a visit to the webpage might be informative, and indeed, the film it happened to be featuring was 100 Jahre Adolf Hitler (get it here). Serendipitous. (Well, ok, maybe not; it's the obvious thing to show at the moment...)
Andrew has already linked to this lamp by Tord Boontje. But since it was featured in the Times design special yesterday I felt the need to once more explain exactly how ahead of the curve we are. Ah-ha-haaa! No but seriously, it's beautiful and now I think the space above our table would look very empty without it.
What does it say about us that we both liked the green/yellow version best, the color combination which is, let's face it, the most naturalistic? And yes, we both understand that it's not really *meant* to be an over-the-table lamp. Gauche is good.
The GSA is in two days and in a puzzling reversal of things my paper is no longer finished. It was done last week but then I started tinkering. So I'm a little stressed. This is by way of an excuse for not posting anything except a cat picture...But maybe I'll write up some responses to the conference afterwards.
Survived the ACL festival. Yesterday was actually pleasant overall, we were in the shade most of the time and didn't go down until later in the day. Skipped the Roots (sigh) but made up for it with a really really excellent Drive-by Truckers show. They were great. Southern Rock lives! Only it's being written by nerdy kids! Caught some of Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra, which I think would be great in less heat. As it was I could only muster a fraction of the enthusiasm they deserved. A little Wilco, who sounded great even from faaaar away, and a little Dirty Dozen Brass Band as they happened to play my favorite Neville song, "Use Me." Yow! Ben Harper was the closing act and he was exactly as polished as you'd think. That was actually a great last act because he has such a varied catalog, everyone seemed to get into it at some point. It was just so nice sitting there in the dark, as the park cooled off...
THEN, after schlepping home last night, I sat down to this upsetting news from Saxony and Brandenburg. Not a surprise, since people have been predicting this all week, but still bad.
Andrew took me to see the Glands and the Shins last night.* Although the Glands' opening was kind of meh (disappointing, since they make good music), the Shins. Rocked. Out. There were two Great Things about it: the first was how innocently wowed they were by how many people wanted to see them (and by their impending Austin City Limits session); the second was the singer's incredible voice, a clear-as-a-bell falsetto that was right on, every time, and which caused even the men in the audience to shout out in empathy and amazement. Seriously. It rocked. I have never heard a voice like that before, it's euphoria-inducing. If you haven't listened to them yet, you ought to.
*thankyou thankyou
With the incredible success of the MoMA show at the Nationalgalerie, Hanno Rauterberg considers at Die Zeit the effects of waiting for hours and hours and hours to get into the museum (not that, I suppose, he actually waited himself...).
The gist is that because the museum decided not to offer tickets with scheduled entrance times, waiting was inevitable. Rauterberg argues that the waiting, which has become really extreme, is an artform in itself, a modern sacrifice of time, a new type of asceticism. He also suggests that waiting reinvests the artworks inside the museum with the aura that they've lost through their ever-increasing visibility.
Wer hat Vorschläge zum Thema German Pop Music? Eine Freundin sucht Songs für ihre Studis. Die Texte sollten möglichst deutlich zu hören sein, damit auch Anfänger etwas davon haben. Den lieben Grönemeyer kann man so langsam nicht mehr empfehlen...oder? (There must be something hipper, anyway. I suggested Blumfeld.)
Is the Kulturforum really such a bad place? I've always liked the fact that it was sort of hidden, modest, from the outside and that it opens up the way it does on the inside. And I used to love to sit in Kunstbibliothek and watch the skater boys bite it on the plaza.
But Niklas Maak at the FAZ says it's ugly and doesn't do justice to the collections of the Gemäldegalerie and Kupferstichkabinett, and argues that it keeps that important art out of the "center" of Berlin's museum life. Which center is that? The Museumsinsel? Or the Egyptian Museum and Berggruen Collection? Or no, wait, somewhere in the vast hinterlands of the Hamburger Bahnhof...
The schedule for the Austin City Limits festival is up, and I am SO glad we are finally going. So lucky to be in Austin. The Gourds AND the Roots, plus Los Amigos Invisibles and Neko Case and Ben Harper et al., who will play, apparently, unopposed. No one would dare challenge their innocent criminality! :)
I'm outside at Little City, because even though it's almost 11 am, it's only 74 degrees out! In August! It's making me delirious. Perhaps climate change is a good thing.
Walking into the greatest coffee store in the world today I realized that I had forgotten to bring my wallet. As I explained to the clerk that I would run home and get it, I caught myself drawling my explanation: "Ah left muh wallet at home." I do this fairly often. In an embarrassing situation, I will drawl where I wouldn't normally. I also drawl when I'm making a smart remark or telling a funny story, or when I'm describing myself in some kind of self-deprecating way.
I picked the drawl almost immediately after arriving in Texas (nearly ten years ago—holy smokes). It's pleasurable to use, and it captures some linguistically expressed aspect of Texas culture that I like. Something like, heat and humidity make everything long and slow, including language. I can't say at the moment whether I also use local diphthongs; that's a point fine enough that I'd have to actually catch myself doing it. I have adopted certain local vocabulary, most notably "y'all" and its possessive "y'alls'," and the occasional "fixin' to."
The universal "coke" (for all fizzy drinks) is something I've never been able to use, but since I've been here, surrounded by a lot of people from the East Coast, I've stopped saying "pop" and mostly say "soda." That makes me sad, because even while growing up I knew that that word meant something in terms of regional identity. Nobody says "Soda" at home unless they mean the clear, bubbly water.
I am susceptible to these kinds of personal linguistic shifts in German, as well. I learned my German in the East Frisian north, and when things are really going well for me I still speak like someone from Schlicktown.* ("Nicht" sounds like "nech'," pushed up the throat with the broad back of the tongue and breathed out through the nose.) But when I spent time in Freiburg, things got a little confused; I noticed that the music of my sentences was swinging up and down, rather than ending on a distinct, downward, nasal sound. This was only made worse by the year in Munich, during which time I also stopped saying "gucken" and started using "schauen." I still have a hard time shaking that, and it's kind of embarrassing to me when I use it up north. Probably no one notices.
*the Wilhelmshaven link above wasn't working today, but normally it does...
Andrew pointed out this interview with Peter Eisenman at archinect. Much of the interview is about Eisenman's views on the role of architecture in society, and he says some very interesting things:
You see, my work basically says that while I may have my own personal political leanings, or I may have affinities to conservative politics, when it comes to architecture, ultimately its politics is autonomy. That’s why I can look...at Albert Speer, even though he was what he was – and I’m best friends with his son – I have no problem with that. I don’t have to be an ideologue; I’m not a flag-waver. I believe that the architecture that the fascist regime was doing was a very important moment in time.
Eisenman also speaks a bit about his design for the memorial for the murdered Jews of Europe, which is under construction in Berlin:
It has no imagery. In other words, it was not about imagery, it was not about marking, it was not about a cemetery. The fact that it could look like a cemetery is possible. It could also look like a field of corn. I was thinking about a field of corn I was lost in in Iowa when I did it. I was trying to do something that had no center, had no edge, had no meaning, that was dumb: D-U-M-B. And there’s nothing in the city that’s dumb. And therefore it was silent, it didn’t speak.I believe that when you walk into this place, it’s not going to matter whether you are a Jew or a non-Jew, a German or a victim: you’re going to feel something. And what I’m interested in is that experience of feeling something. Not necessarily anything to do with the Holocaust, but to feel something different than everyday experience.
I haven't seen the construction, but the memorial's website has some good mock-ups (as above). I followed the debate around building this memorial for a number of years and I admit that I was nonplussed by Eisenman's design; but the more that I think about it, the more I could endorse the idea of a non-iconic monument in which the viewer is brought out of her everyday physical or spatial experience. The "meaning," then, is left to the viewer to infer. In spite of what Eisenman says this sounds mildly postmodern to me, and I recognize that leaving it open-ended in this way also leaves it open to meanings which might be antithetical to the stated purpose of the monument. And then, too, while it may in fact provide a really crucial 'blank' (and still suggestive) space in the middle of Berlin, I'm not sure about the size: it's really big. (So I reserve the right to withhold judgement until it's all finished.)
[Reading the interview I was reminded that this week Albert Speer celebrated his 70th birthday. And yes, I did do some quick math...It's his son, who is also an architect: see the write-up in the FR or this article at Metropolis.]
Ok, I'm watching this. Rocking out. They are rockin' out and I am cheering here at home, in spite of the fact that it's a Great Big Commercial. Last night, when Obama spoke, it was even MORE rockin'. Are these things always this much fun? Because I've never given a poop about the convention before.
I should reiterate that I am not, technically, a democrat. But I'm just swept up in the moment. Luckily I have Fafblog to keep me grounded in the face of all these thrills. Rock on.
[ok, an update: it wasn't THAT great. At the time it seemed like a big thrill, but this morning I realize that Tuesday night was much better.]
At Crooked Timber, Ted has compiled info on the current state of the presidential campaigns. Neck-and-Neck? Apparently not. But who dares to hope?
Several months ago, Adam Greenfield wrote this meditation on the photographs from Abu Ghraib. Now I see an essay by Solomon-Godeau at Artforum on something similar. It seemed like a good idea, in preparation for corroboration of this, to think again about how those pictures work and how they're used.
Ostblog reminds me that we never went here, except to use the WC during an especially long exploration of P'berg. How shameful.
Each morning I check the forecast at the National Weather Service. Today I saw this icon, one I hadn't seen yet, for Wednesday. Compared to their other Bob Ross-y treatments of various climatic conditions, this one struck me as especially cruel and, thus, particularly apt. Texas is hot, dammit.
Somehow I missed this the first time around, but shouldn't these people be working with these people? And these people? So many links I could add...
Cat observation: training Tiny to use a litterbox will not be easy. It's been sitting here, ready to be used, for weeks, but she's only ever put one very tentative foot in it, mostly to feel the texture. A few minutes ago, she curled up in the box to take a nap (but got up when I went for the camera). At least it hasn't been used yet.
[again I promise this will not become a cat blog.]
We were on vacation for a week in Oregon. I have so much to say about the trip, but for now I will keep it brief: it's beautiful there and I hope to get back again soon. It was thirty degrees cooler (sometime more) than here in Austin, so the fact that I couldn't get into the icy waters of the Pacific didn't matter too much. I just enjoyed the general break from heat and sun. Oh, and the way people have adjusted to the wet, cool weather: I've never seen so many rural coffee shacks...
Now the drudgery of everyday life begins again. Luckily the cat stayed around and she's here helping me get my desk cleaned off. Because she's not technically domesticated yet, we were worried that she would take off while we were gone; but our neighbor provided food and contact, and she's right back where we left her. She even took a brief snooze with me on the bed. This is significant because she hasn't really come to understand the bed as something you get up onto and then stay on. Especially when there are legs moving underneath covers. Freaks her out pretty badly.
So I guess things are back as they were. It was only a week, after all...
Everyone's already linked to this, but in case you missed it: here is a story on Invisible Adjunct at the Chronicle for Higher Ed. Sigh.
Over at Living in Europe, Eamonn's got an interesting post about the German band Lali Puna. Noting that the band is mainly concerned with the status of things in the US, he writes
The bigger point, however, is...what she doesn't sing about, Germany. The country's lack of anything approaching a political dynamic that would galvanise an artist of Trebeljahr's ability suggests that it's not just the economy that's being suffocated; the remnants of a critical tradition are being stifled as well. The distant past of fascism, the middle past of terrorism and the recent past of communism are not exactly the stuff of pop song, but a complete turning of the back upon every aspect of a history, a culture, a society is worrying.
I don't know the band's music, but from the little bit I've heard and lyrics I've read, I would be inclined to agree with Eamonn; and while I can't think of any counter-examples at the moment, there must be some [good] bands who are singing about the state of things in Germany? Little help? (I so seldom listen to new music--tsk.)
It's no secret that planning for (or even thinking about) having a baby at the ABD stage is perplexing. The dissertation is the first baby, and we've got to ride out these last nine months before considering another, more complicated, nine months. But Belle Waring has a suggestion for when that time does come: do it in Singapore! For cheap and competent medical care! I'm writing this one down.
Invisible Adjunct is stopping production. I'll miss IA terribly. And only today I was thinking about how blogging and blog-reading makes me smarter (than I otherwise would be), and what a huge role IA and all the participants there play in my learning. What a selfish way to look at it, no? On the other hand, I'm glad that someone who's decided to leave academia can do so, and I'm confident that IA's alter ego will find succes in other venues.
This is the first time I've been part of a web community breaking up. It's weird.
Ostblog finds a FT write-up of Das Magazin, a long-running culture rag with offices right down the street from our house in Schroederstrasse. (Sigh.) They're celebrating their 80th year. The website offers little bits of current and older articles, including the sex columnist, Beate Kruse. Get it? Like Beate Uhse, only, well, Kruse. As in "cruise." Or maybe I've got that all wrong.
Spurred by a story in the Post (for which I have no link because you have to register), Andrew writes about the cottage creativity industry in Berlin. Things are looking dreary.
A quibble: The original article misrepresents the Kulturbrauerei which, to my mind, has long since ceased to be very interesting (though we did see a Trail of Dead show there). Not that the MiniMal isn't a nice grocery store, but the bug-themed restaurant SODA is sort of limited in scope, the movie theatre shows (gasp) mainstream movies, and there's a Bavarian-esque restaurant that just doesn't jive with the P-berg flava. This is no arty, rad social space. Or has the Bavarian placed closed?
From Stanford's GDR poster collection, seen at Ostblog.
Ostblog reports that Waldemar Grzimek's sculpture of Heinrich Heine is due to be cleaned up by a group out of Düsseldorf. We lived right down the street from the monument in the Volkspark am Weinsberg where he sits, gazing into the distance towards Wedding. I'm glad someone's looking out for him. He's often surrounded by empties and trash, especially in the summer when the Volkspark, as the only greenspace for miles, is full of partying coolkids from morning 'til nightfall.
According to the Nationalgalerie's website, in conjunction with Das MoMA in Berlin, various cultural institutes and organizations in Berlin are participating in something called the "america season," funded by DaimlerChrysler. The focus will be on "the fine tradition and multifaceted relationships between Germany and the United States."
Ah! Sounds like an attempt at rebuilding Deutsch-Amerikanische Freundschaft. Under "Sponsors" on the website, DaimlerChrysler says,
Kunst ist eine kulturelle Brücke, um Gedanken und Ideen auszutauschen...Wir fördern die Kunst weltweit, weil sie die Menschen näher zusammenbringt. über alle Unterschiede hinweg.
["Art is a cultural bridge for exchanging thoughts and ideas...We support Art around the world because it brings people together. In spite of all differences."]
Will Germans--especially Berliners--be receptive? And do Americans know or care? After all the bad feeling at the beginning of the war, I can't see this making too much of a difference. Can it?
Of course, as the Spiegel notes, the MoMa also needs the "multi-million dollar" proceeds that lending the show to its only European venue will generate. So it's not all about spreading the love. It's hard not to see this whole thing in terms of postwar US cultural/propaganda activities in Germany, even if this is coming from non-governmental sources.
But!! To be fair, the Program looks pretty promising. I hope something good comes of this.
The Acropolis is under an unusual 20 cm blanket of snow. The FAZ has a series of photos.
Magical images, but the icy weather is wreaking havoc.
Woke up this morning and, just like the weathertypes said, it had snowed...So here's our car with a Valentine's greeting. Also, now that it's appropriate, look at HeiKu again.
Today I've seen raindrops of all shapes and sizes: fat splattery, thin and sharp, sideways, fast-moving mist...you name it. And the forecast looks bad for the next few days.
The water just pours unrelenting from the sky. Honestly. When I went out this morning it looked like the creek was on its way to flooding; if it continues like this I'm sure it will (but the photo is from November 2001, and I doubt it'll be that bad).
Salon reports today that a big-screen rendition of Annie Proulx's short story "Bareback Mountain" is in the process of being cast. Provided the movie sticks to the original story, there will be a "normal" (though illicit) romantic relationship between the two male leads.
The Salon review of this news is really interesting; it's nice to think there might be a mainstream movie in which gay men are just men first and foremost--not campy, not psychotic, not secretly wishing for a straight romance with the Best Friend. In other words, nothing like what we've seen in the past. Certainly it's true that "the recent embrace of all things gay isn't to be laughed at. The more gay characters populate the pop-culture landscape, the less pressure will be faced by their progeny."
Here's my big question: where are the lesbians? Am I missing the critiques of the explosion of gay or "gay-like" culture that address the fact that there simply aren't any lesbians in these roles? Or am I forgetting someone?
Are queer women less appealing to a mainstream audience than queer men? Why?
I've noticed only a few of the blogs that i read regularly have been slacking off with posts in the last few weeks, in spite of the impending end of the academic year (which involves many of the bloggers I keep up with). I can't see how they do it: my brain is so fried that it's all I can do to keep reading, let alone think hard enough to post anything. (I will not mention the status of the disseration.)
I hope to be more conscientious about posting in the coming weeks. You know, during the calm of the holidays.
Too busy to write anything lately, and even too busy to read much, but I saw this article at Salon on changing ideas about Sex in China. I haven't thought about the one child policy or any of the related issues in a looong time and this is an interesting update.
[if you don't have a Salon subscription, you can watch a brief ad and get a day pass so you can read the full text of the articles. But I recommend subscribing, they deserve our money.]
As I'm preparing my first upper-division class for next semester, I'm thinking about incorporating a blog into the class. I had been considering using journals (in lieu of reaction papers) and now it seems like blogging might be better because it opens things up to discussion. At the same time, it seems like a more private journal is still important for people who feel less secure with the readings. Could I require both?
I know that people do this all the time, now I just have to start looking around for models. I'd be grateful for any feedback people can offer.
I always wondered what I could use all those photos of flowers for: blog filler!
This is from the Charlottenburg Park, Berlin, sometime in Fall 2001.
Well, it's two months since my last entry. I clearly have no discipline were writing is concerned--no surprise to those who know me well.
I recently stumbled onto the blog of Yule Heibel, the art historian who wrote the English-language book most closely related to my dissertation subject. What a surprise! And interesting writing, too. I'm curious to read more.
Off I go to start the semester. Is the first day of class really always a throwaway? Can you communicate something worthwhile in 50 minutes when everyone is still unsure whether they'll stay in the class? I always feel like there's a lot of nervous shifting around, or expectant waiting (but noone is sure for what, exactly). Since it's almost 8:30 I need to get moving...
Does everyone agonize about the first entry? I'm sure it shouldn't be so hard. I can delete it, after all. Well anyway, out we go...
