Category Archives: rants

“Trapped in the Armor Of Language”

1 Reply

Despite my previous efforts to move past reflecting on David Foster Wallace’s death, I spent part of my lunch today listening to this reflection on the life and work of the late author. I’ve enjoyed Michael Silverblatt’s show in the past. However, today I found myself (with headphones on) leaning in closer and closer to a speaker that wasn’t there. The closeness and emotional veracity of Silverblatt’s words was striking. Despite being in front of a library, munching on pizza, I was transported next to Silverblatt as he reminisced about the writer.

More importantly, the discussion about Wallace’s essays illustrated that part of the allure for the reader (at least for me) was that Wallace was an expert at making the invisible visible. Through his work a lobster festival is seen from a completely different perspective. Ditto a state fair, a filmmaker, a presidential candidate, tennis players & recovering addicts, and even the mundane such as having to move a car from one side of the road to the other due to municipal codes. I say this having sat through the first four hours of a yearlong sequence on qualitative methods and design. Perhaps the key fact that was expected for the students in this class to take away is the role of the ethnographer to make the invisible visible – Wallace may be better an example at this than many of the case studies we’ll be investigating. His is a route towards illumination I’m interested in treading.

Similarly, Wallace talked about how defining “terms” on Silverblatt’s show would take him about 6 hours. And though Silverblatt asserts that this would be done in a hilarious manner (and he’d probably be right), it cuts to a central frustration with language. Wallace effectively tried writing himself out of a novel while also making the experience so intensely personal that it feels as if he wrote it just for you – yes, this conceit is cribbed from the show. However, he literally becomes trapped within this behemoth of a novel. He probably never really escaped it. [As an aside, looking today on Amazon, Infinite Jest was the #60 top selling product – I think it peaked last week. In any case, I can’t imagine how many people will be trying to read through this thing as a result of his passing.]

In a seminar about language issues, I made an assertion in class about how language primarily limits intentions and communication. That although its primary function is one of communication between two or more people, it literally cuts away at the pure essence of meaning in some sort of abstract way. While it protects it also denies. Lastly, as a result of looking at the Beyond Pedagogy texts, reading Valis for the first time and generally spacing out when I should be taking notes, I’ve been thinking about the aborigine concept of “dreamtime” or a dream world. About how such a place could likely exist both in and out of the modern day world. About how there’s something about Eskimos and words for snow and western limitations with words like “magic” and how that all kind of vacillates between structured thought and language-less ideas like the flickering of a light between “real time” and “dreamtime” until the flickering stops flickering like a strobe-light slow motion kind of thing and it becomes really clear (at least for a second) that both places are the same and it’s us – like “us” in some sort of socio-cultural way – that are leaving some things “invisible” and that the balance between dream and real is one most of us aren’t ever going to really negotiate.

I’m still working this out.

The DFW-Plex

Leave a reply

So for the past two weeks I’ve been secretly reading tons and tons of blog posts, articles, obits, and tributes to David Foster Wallace. This has significantly affected my productivity – I literally spend significant portions of my free time reading what other writers and bloggers have to say about a writer that could have written circles around them on any day of the week.

Having read much of his non-fiction, a chunk of his short stories and still working my way through the beast, I was more than saddened to hear of his death. I even struggled through two thirds of that damn book on infinity before realizing I was barely understanding any of what he was writting. It’s gotten to me more than I thought it would. And yes, I’m a bit tired of the forwarded college speeches, recycled stories, reflections on his teaching, analysis of references to suicide in his writing, and links to his appearance on the Charlie Rose show. I’ve reacquainted myself with all of these through my blog perusing travels. However, the most interesting artifact to come out of this is the copy of his college syllabus. There was a point while at UCLA, that I regretted not attending the Claremont Colleges (I’d applied and been accepted for early admission to Pitzer) solely based on the fact that “THE DFW” taught there. I’ve exhausted by DFW-related blog reading. Let the other forms of procrastination return.

“Guess You Only Get One Chance in Life to Play a Song that Goes Like …”

Leave a reply

I’ve apparently dropped the ball. It wasn’t until last Thursday, when I casually picked up the LA Weekly, as always, that I saw Frank’s mug on the cover, carefully thumbed to the corresponding feature, anxiously read through the contents, confirmed the details, and dealt with the realization that Joe’s Garage is finally getting a proper theatrical release. In Los Angeles. This Month. In my past lifetime as a fledgling music snob critic, this would have been something I’d have seen coming like months possibly even years in advance, in my old age as an educator these canine-like instincts have dwindled. Sigh.

If you feel overly aware and are wondering about the run-on and fragment sentences above, that’s how my mind was working at the time. It was that giddy, near-breathless feeling of anticipation with which my eyes read through the news.

For me – and I’m sure Zappa fans everywhere – this is a big deal. If you’re unfamiliar with the plot of Joe’s Garage, it’s because you’ve been living under a rock for some time or you’re just not aware that we’re basically living Joe’s Garage right now. Ok, so the actual storyline may seem a bit ridiculous … the Weekly story pretty much nails it. Those of a weaker constitution may want to skip the synopses:

The play opens with an Orwellian “Central Scrutinizer,” a large robotic puppet who speaks through a megaphone and whose job is to enforce laws “that haven’t yet been passed.” A local policeman counsels Joe to drop his music and engage in more church activities, but Joe’s sweet Catholic girlfriend, named Mary (of course), abandons him for a backstage pass to see another band. After following that band on tour and after being used as a sex toy by the band’s roadies, the exhausted Mary is dumped in Miami, where she enters a wet-T-shirt contest to raise enough money to get home.

When Joe learns of her plight, he goes into a funk of depression, contracts venereal disease, and seeks religion — at the door of L. Ron Hoover and his First Church of Appliantology — to pull him back up. Membership in the church costs Joe his life’s savings, and he is ordered “into the closet” in order to find salvation by having sex with home appliances — so much more safe and titillating than with human beings. There’s a three-way orgy between Joe, an appliance named Sy Borg and a “modified Gay Bob Doll”; Joe accidentally destroys Sy Borg’s circuitry during a golden shower episode and is imprisoned for being unable to pay for Sy’s repair. In prison, Joe is gang-raped by record executives and other riffraff. He eventually emerges into a new world, where music has been banned, but he does land a good job in a muffin factory.

Sure, it may sound a bit crude, but this was the satirical picture of the future with which Mr. Frank Zappa chose to launch an attack on censorship – it was a battle that continued in court, on television, and in his writing. As much as I am a huge fan of Zappa’s music, it’s his work protecting free speech that speaks to a larger audience.

So, that being said, you should know that – unequivocally – Frank Zappa is a genius. For a while, as an undergrad, I used to wear a shirt that said “WWFZD?” No one could be as simultaneously profound and offensive  as Frank Zappa. As far as musical talent, he’s one of the most accomplished guitarists and composers in just about any genre. And his expectations and requirements of band members are pretty much legendary. Read the rest of the Weekly article to get a sense of time signatures being used throughout Joe’s Garage – a sweet rock opera that starts with the most mundane of chord changes – nothing more than a glorified version of “Louie Louie.” And did you know that Frank Zappa invented xenochrony?

Yes, Joe’s Garage will offend. Yes, that’s Frank on the album cover. Yes, he is in Blackface. Yes, he is offending you. Yes, this is good for your soul.

Differentiated Rope Skipping (aka Jump Rope Instructions? Really?)

4 Replies

I was putting away all those “teacher” books from the post below the other day and flipped through one for giggles. I hope this doesn’t come across as overly snarky (though it is a blog…), but do teachers really need instructions on “teaching” jump rope? Am I from, like, Saturn for thinking this is kind of a no brainer?

“Alright class, I hope you did your homework last night and practiced breathing air. Today we’ll be learning how to properly place juicebox straws in juiceboxes and then – tomorrow – we’ll actually learn how to sip from straws. But first … it’s time to learn the fundamentals of moving your body over a continuously moving rope in a rhythmic manner. We’ll go through this process slowly.”

Or something like that.

“Hmm… this class IS advanced. Maybe we can skip straight to Double Dutch for today’s lesson.”

In unrelated news, since we’re done with finals, I plan on instigating a massive version of Werewolf in my class tomorrow. This could be ridiculously fun or ridiculously ridiculous. Only time (and a few sacrificial villagers) will tell.

[Regular, less inane posting will possibly* resume after submitting grades.]

*something akin to a vacation looms in the near future.

No Blog Left Behind

Leave a reply

Apparently the ol’ American Crawl has been noted as a blog written by a new teacher in the info box of this article. Don’t know how that happened, but hey, there you go. I’m probably the most famous person I know and realized I don’t gloat often enough on this blog.

Secondly (though, strangely, there was no “first of all” … ), since when were “teachers or former teachers with fewer than 10 years of experience leading a classroom” considered “new”? Frankly, I’m often the youngest person in the room at faculty meetings, School Site Council, and other gatherings. However, based on seniority at my school, I’m nearly a veteran. The teachers that have had the biggest influences on me, mentoring and guiding my practice have all been in the classroom for less than 10 years as well.

Really though, I mean no disrespect here (and even the “most famous person I know” comment was in sarcastic jest). I don’t mean to belittle the one publication that bothered to link to me (though really, I’m #4? C’mon, I could take #2 or #3, right??). I just wonder what we mean when we say “new” and “veteran.” Am I still developing my practice? Of course. But, I’d only imagine all sincere educators would feel the same – where they have four or forty years of teaching experience.

The Revolution Does Take Out

Leave a reply

This is Sarita’s. If you can’t tell from the blurry picture, it’s a Mexican eatery down the street from where I grew up in Spring Valley. There are dozens of hole-in-the-wall places to grab a burrito, carne asada fries, or whatever else suits your fancy in the neighborhood. I happen to be partial to Sarita’s. My friends and I would often go two doors down to La Posta during our high school years. There was also Salazar’s, Santana’s, and several others whose names I can’t remember.

Sarita’s is the kind of comfort food I crave on a regular basis. It’s a required destination when I visit family in San Diego. However, this is about more than repping any kind of nostalgia. This is about the possibilities a place like Sarita’s can represent.

Each trip to Sarita’s is a parley of the masses. Every kind of denizen of the Spring Valley suburb will be seen at the eatery. The high school enfants terribles, the blue collar and white collar workers (I plan to talk about these labels sooner or later and similar coding of students at my school), the day laborers, the families, the well-to-do in their oversized houses on Mount Helix, the working class families that don’t actually buy drinks at Sarita’s but save a handful of change by going to the liquor store across the street, the black community, the white community, the Latino community (though, unlike Los Angeles, Latino and Mexican are almost synonymous in Spring Valley – chalk it up to being ten minutes from the border), the Armenian community, and whoever else I’m forgetting in this cross-section of the neighborhood.

This is common ground for all classes and races. It is a miasma of ages and colors  clamoring for greasy meats and cheeses in differently fried and served permutations. Sure, not everyone’s walking out with the Shamu-sized Styrofoam container of horchata, but we’re all in this together, man.

During the two year period that I manned a popular LA newsstand Friday and Saturday nights, I was amazed at the fact that all walks of life came to the location. It was class-less unhallowed ground. I thought it was unique in this distinction. Like the newsstand, Sarita’s just might be a building place towards considering, plotting out our Temporary Autonomous Zone.

I apologize for mapping my pedagogy of liberation … I was just waiting for my carne asada tacos. To go.

So …

Leave a reply

If you’re new around here, it’s probably due to my Your Name Here review, as linked by the great Rachel Zozanian Helen Dewitt

I’m giving y’all fair warning: most chatter in these here parts is about secondary education and what’s happening around my school.

In any case, my class is busy investigating the Black Cloud and reporting sightings over here. Maybe you are interested in unraveling the mystery too.

Participating in MTV Land

1 Reply

I spent part of Friday night watching MTV. Seriously. This post is not an admission of guilt (or another celebration of guilty pleasures). Actually, I wanted to take a moment of your internet-browsing time to talk about how MTV is changing the world of youth culture.

Brief Personal Background Information
There are two things about me that will relate to my connection to MTV’s culture today:
1. I watched MTV as a teenager and have occasionally perused select current shows as I have written about before. America’s Best Dance Crew is rather entertaining. I warmly recall the days of actual music videos regularly played for most of the time on the channel.
2. When it comes to social networking, I’ve only begrudgingly taken obligatory steps toward participation. Out of pedagogical duty, I created a MySpace account. Out of pedagogical experimentation, I created a twitter account. Out of a necessity to not lose anything else, I created a del.icio.us account. Out of the interest of offering occasional pictures to a rather text heavy blog (ahem), I created a flickr account. YouTube, ditto. Of these accounts, the amount of actual social networking I do is practically nil. I only respond to MySpace comments from my students and everything else is pretty much used as informational depositories.

Okay, Now That That’s Out Of The Way
Friday night, I was privy to see the latest MTV debut: FNMTV. From my non-scientific investigation, the show’s title is short for Friday Night MTV. And, unlike other shows, this one is about music. There are music videos, musical performances, and even a musician as host.

The show is another ho-hum live audience production. A bunch of bands play, a few celebrities introduce new videos and other celebrities show snippets of classic videos from yesteryear. The format’s not all that exciting.

What is exciting is the way the show engages its audience. Taking the standard format of a music show, MTV has integrated youth participation at every step of the way. A trio of commentators looks at various live polls and comments on the FNMTV site and reports trends and noteworthy suggestions being made. Do you have something important to say about that new Snoop video? Your comment just might be scrolling across the screen while the video is playing. And what about that new Ting Tings video? If you liked that dance, go ahead and record your own version and in all likelihood MTV will play that too. You like the lyrics to another song? Sing along and you can karaoke for the world.

If you aren’t prepared (or if you’re under the age of 18), you’ll probably be overwhelmed by the show. The screen is filled with the kinds of information that only a hyperactive multitasker hopped up on Red Bull could follow: live audience shots, a music video, scrolling text, and webcam shots all fill the screen simultaneously. Every faucet of the show demands not only for audience members to watch but to plug in and participate. Currently, the site for FNMTV offers four different ways for visitors to participate. I expect this number to, at the least, remain consistent, and in all likelihood increase.

And Why Should I Care?
This is a huge, huge shift in how our culture interacts with media. Unlike the lazy bums of my generation, these aren’t your average couch potatoes today. Today’s kids are looking for ways to be a part of the media they are interested in. And no, I’m not at all the only person talking about this. In particular, I point you to a rather excellent lecture by Lawrence Lessig, if you have the time to watch it. He points out the Soulja Boy phenomenon (short story being that rapper Soulja Boy created a YouTube video explaining the steps to a dance he created, millions of people watched the video and, subsequently, millions of people created their own versions of the Soulja Boy dance).

I don’t bring up this FNMTV phenomenon to nod along with a bunch of scholars that flood my RSS reader. Instead, I do this because this isn’t a trend being discussed within the educational community that I am a part of. My students are a part of this FNMTV audience. They are engaging in these practices. As educators, we are not talking about them. And what about that whole participation gap thing I’ve been terrified of? Yeah, that’s only widening.

With an insurmountably growing schedule, I don’t feasibly see myself expanding my social networking practices. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t study my students’ usages of these skills. And it doesn’t mean that you can’t either.

“And Now I’m Doing the Same Thing”

Leave a reply

So last night we saw the first Jon Brion show at the Coronet Theater. Despite a few familiar flourishes, this venue is no Largo redux. I came craving honey chicken and ended up with some pre-show Vito’s (which I think will be a necessary pre-show ritual from now on).

I’ve seen Jon’s shows fairly regularly for the past six years; I can comfortably say I’ve probably sat through no less than 50 of his shows (a modest estimate, truthfully). I’ve seen him at his worst and I’ve seen him at his best (and, in the case of the Thursday after Elliott Smith’s death, both his best and worst simultaneously). Last night was an appropriate, middle of the road Jon show – his usual mind blowing bas of musical genius in full display.

I’m sure there will be numerous accounts of last night’s show, so just a few thoughts:

– I’ve made official Largo at the Coronet History: I had the first Jon Brion request at his new venue. Granted his version of Baba O’Riley started our as a silly ragtime medley before launching into piano-mad vivaciousness, but it’s always fun to see him try a new and unexpected approach to the song’s electronic arpeggios.

– I then made even more official history: I had the last request of Jon’s first set. Again, I wasn’t expecting him to turn “Don’t Think Twice” into his Les Paul ditty, but there’s never a bad way to hear Dylan at his best. (Similarly, two requests out of the four means I easily glided into the record books for most requests in his first show – I know these are ridiculous records, but they are my ridiculous records!)

– Speaking of requests, people need to know the protocol for them. It’s pretty simple, actually: when Jon says “Any requests” or “Let’s have a request” or something like that, you yell out your request. Conversely, when Jon doesn’t ask for requests, you don’t yell for them. You definitely don’t yell for them throughout the entire show.

– I had come to terms with a new venue and more people and a different atmosphere. However, as we were waiting for the curtains to part, I had a sinking terror about what the stage would look like. What if the piano wasn’t stage right? What if there was a ridiculous backdrop? Rest assured the stage was a familiar sight for Largo regulars (Viking helmet and all). Only a few (positive) tweaks: the drum area no longer looks like a death trap and is properly illuminated, and the stage is a bit larger which means Jon can jump around a bit more and also has to move a bit faster during his transition from drums to piano.

– Largo’s cell phone policy: exactly the same. God bless.