Those Clever, Evil, Bastards...

Full disclosure: I used to be a pack-a-day-plus smoker. I'm glad I quit. It's a nasty habit.

That said, smokers are not evil. And while Cigarette companies may be evil, let's face it--they're no more evil than other groups that keep pushing products that they know will be harmful--Pharmaceutical companies, McDonalds, Burger King, Hostess, etc. But you wouldn't know that from the commercials that have been on lately.

Now I agree, the anti-smoking brigade had a point about the Joe Camel character. But even so, smoking has always been portrayed as "cool," ever since Bogie, James Dean, Charles Boyer, etc. dangled smokes from their respective lips. It hardly took a cartoon character to tell kids that.

But now I feel like the anti-smoking message has gone a little too far, and that those behind it are making statements every bit as untruthful as the ones made by big tobacco. The most recent one I saw claims to prove that cigarette companies are still marketing to kids because when they hang their signs on a store counter "it just happens" to be at a child's eye level. Do I even need to point out that it also "just happens" to be at that level because the counter is the optimum height for exchanging money, placing purchases, bagging purchases, etc?

At this point, anyone, even a young anyone, who still thinks smoking is good for you is either stupid or a supermodel. This new claim just makes no logical sense at all. It's like saying that God supports pedophelia becuase He cleverly made adult genitalia at a child's eye level. It's called a doubtful cause fallacy, which is what happens when you try to establish a causal relationship between things that don't necessarily have one.

Why do I even care? Well, I guess because I'm a libertarian, and I'm getting tired of borderline-fanatical groups who, when they can't reach their agenda through legislation, often go to extremes to demonize any person/corporation that disagrees with them. (And while I'm at it, the legislators themselves are often pussies becuase they'll tax the things into oblivion, but they won't have the guts to change the law.) Hey, anti-smoking dickwads...right now, cigarettes are legal. You want to put out commercials that show pictures of diseased lungs, I'm with ya. You want to send out scratch and sniff cards that let smokers know what their clothes smell like, I'm with ya. You want to talk about the diseases caused by smoking (although I think you're full of shit with your second-hand smoke claims), I'm with ya. But c'mon...don't insult my intelligence. What have YOU been smoking?

Chairman of the Bored

Whew, what a nearly-perfect day! I started out by trying the new Delmonico's Steakhouse. The garlic cheesebread appetizer (which I wouldn't have ordered had I realized that the meal came with bread) was, literally, a whole loaf of bread. They split it open and covered both halves with gooey melted cheese. And the damn thing was steaming hot, too, something that I've noticed has been lacking in appetizers these days. The main meal was a 12-ounce New York Sirloin Strip, seared on the outside, yet a perfect medium on the inside. And I mean perfect. No bulls-eye of ever-increasing doneness as you move out from the center; this baby was one tone from top to bottom. Alongside the steak? A baked potato which--I'm not kidding here--was the size of a Nerf football. Oh, did I happen to mention that this whole foray into gluttony took place in...THE FRANK SINATRA BOOTH??? Yes, there I was, surrounded by photos and albums of Ol' Blue Eyes himself, while an overhead speaker pumped out the music of the spheres--Frank, Sammy, Dino, Tony Bennett, Louis Prima, et. al. The coolest part of all was that the booth was built back into the wall like a little alcove, and there were curtains that one could draw closed, should one want some privacy. Good food, good service, good atmosphere...let's just say that if there is a heaven, God's got his work cut out for him. Ring-a-ding-ding.

After the eats, I found a little bookstore outlet. The kicker? Everything was 70% off the cover price!!! I thought maybe it was a mirage at first, or possibly a hallucination brought on by too much steak. But I've got two bags of books, hardcovers among them, for about $40 that proves it was the real thing.

I know what you're thinking: "What next? You pick up a naked stipper whose car broke down on the way to her sex addicts anonymous meeting?" Sadly, no. But there was more shopping--at the regular bookstore, where I took advantage of a 25% educator's discount, and at the computer/DVD store, where I almost talked myself into buying the "Kolchak, the Night Stalker" box set.

The last stop of the night was to visit one of my oldest friends. I've known him since we were about five years old or so. Growing up, he and his mom were like a second family to me. Now he's married and has two kids of his own. They're the greatest. But he's got a new family, and I think that his wife hasn't been so sure that this particular member of the old family belongs in the new family. Tonight, when I stopped by, though, a strange thing happened. My friend and his wife had to run a quick errand and she asked me to watch the kids while they were gone. (Something I had never been trusted with before, by the way.) Not just the almost-three year old, mind you, but the almost-year old chubby bunny. I know, it doesn't sound like a big deal, and they didn't act like it was a big deal, but to me it was like a signal: "okay, you're all right." I felt like part of the family again.

So that was the day. Best day I've had in a while, for sure. I think I'll crawl into bed and read one of these new books. It's too bad I'm crawling in there alone, otherwise it just might have been the perfect day. Ah, who wants a perfect day, anyway? It leaves you nothing to get out of bed for the next morning.

I Hab A Code

Well, I had a code...uh, cold. For about a week. It wasn't just a cold, though. It was a monster whamdoozle case of the flu. It wasn't even, like, bird flu; it was pteradactyl flu. Even my hair hurt.

But, for the most part, I'm better, although I seem to still have a bunch of crud in my head still. (Yes, besides the grey matter crud! Quit writing your own jokes!) I have a doctor story, but I'll save that. I have break coming up, and should have some free time, although I do have to finish all that work I postponed due to that meshugga flu.

I'll keep you all posted.

What You Talkin' Bout, Willis?

Why I will always pay to see a Bruce Willis movie, even if it might suck.

Willis Defends Frey

Although I might not agree with him 100 percent, I give the guy credit for standing up to Oprah.

Best line?

"Hey, Oprah. You had PRESIDENT CLINTON on your show and if this prick didn't lie about a couple of things, I'm going to set myself on fire right now."

Mulder...? I Hardly Even Know Her!

Thanks to Ken.

I knew those conspiricy questions were gonna get me in trouble.


You scored as FBI's X-Files Division (The X-Files). You are part of a super secret section of the FBI. You also have the very cool status of "Special Agent." You believe in many conspiracies and know the government is covering up way too much. Now if only you could get the Cigarette Smoking Man to stop providing you with the second-hand smoke.

Your Ultimate Sci-Fi Profile II: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in? (pics)
created with QuizFarm.com


P.S. As cool as "Special Agent" is, every guy out there wishes he was Han Solo. C'mon, you know you do. First of all, you're named after the masturbatory act. Second, and most important...how cool is it that when you're about to be frozen solid, and your girl tells you that she loves you, your last words to her are "I know"? Steve McQueen would be proud as hell.

Gone, But Not Forgotten

Today, besides being the day after my good friend The Insurrectionist's birthday, also happens to be the birthday of another good friend. She wasn't my first girlfriend, but I'd have to say she was my first love. I have no idea where she is these days, and I'm sure the chances that she'll ever see this are slim, but every February 11th I get a little nostalgic.

Amy, I remember those summers on the lake with fondness, and I hope life is treating you well.

More Cartoonery Buffoonery

Actually, this isn't really buffoonery--it's actually pretty good--but I liked the rhyming sound.

My friend Greg sent me an email with the text of this op-ed from The New York Times. I'm including the full text here instead of linking because you have to subscribe to view it online. I don't know if this is a copyright violation or not. (It doesn't seem much different to me than, say, cutting it out of the paper and passing it around--I'm not making any money from it.) If they ask me to take it down, I will.

DRAFTING HITLER

The New York Times, February 9, 2006

By David Brooks

You want us to know how you feel. You in the Arab European League published a cartoon of Hitler in bed with Anne Frank so we in the West would understand how offended you were by those Danish cartoons. You at the Iranian newspaper Hamshahri are holding a Holocaust cartoon contest so we'll also know how you feel.

Well, I saw the Hitler-Anne Frank cartoon: the two have just had sex and Hitler says to her, "Write this one in your diary, Anne." But I still don't know how you feel. I still don't feel as if I should burn embassies or behead people or call on God or bin Laden to exterminate my foes. I still don't feel your rage. I don't feel threatened by a sophomoric cartoon, even one as tasteless as that one.

At first I sympathized with your anger at the Danish cartoons because it's impolite to trample on other people's religious symbols. But as the rage spread and the issue grew more cosmic, many of us in the West were reminded of how vast the chasm is between you and us. There was more talk than ever about a clash of civilizations. We don't just have different ideas; we have a different relationship to ideas.

We in the West were born into a world that reflects the legacy of Socrates and the agora. In our world, images, statistics and arguments swarm around from all directions. There are movies and blogs, books and sermons. There's the profound and the vulgar, the high and the low.

In our world we spend our time sifting and measuring, throwing away the dumb and offensive, e-mailing the smart and the incisive. We aim, in Michael Oakeshott's words, to live amid the conversation - "an endless unrehearsed intellectual adventure in which, in imagination, we enter a variety of modes of understanding the world and ourselves and are not disconcerted by the differences or dismayed by the inconclusiveness of it all."

We believe in progress and in personal growth. By swimming in this flurry of perspectives, by facing unpleasant facts, we try to come closer and closer to understanding.

But you have a different way. When I say you, I don't mean you Muslims. I don't mean you genuine Islamic scholars and learners. I mean you Islamists. I mean you young men who were well educated in the West, but who have retreated in disgust from the inconclusiveness and chaos of our conversation. You've retreated from the agora into an exaggerated version of Muslim purity.

You frame the contrast between your world and our world more bluntly than we outsiders would ever dare to. In London the protesters held signs reading "Freedom Go to Hell," "Exterminate Those Who Mock Islam," "Be Prepared for the Real Holocaust" and "Europe You Will Pay, Your 9/11 Is on the Way." In Copenhagen, an imam declared, "In the West, freedom of speech is sacred; to us, the prophet is sacred" - as if the two were necessarily opposed.

Our mind-set is progressive and rational. Your mind-set is pre-Enlightenment and mythological. In your worldview, history doesn't move forward through gradual understanding. In your worldview, history is resolved during the apocalyptic conflict between the supernaturally pure jihadist and the supernaturally evil Jew.

You seize on any shred - even a months-old cartoon from an obscure Danish paper - to prove to yourself that the Jew and the crusader are on the offensive, that the apocalyptic confrontation is at hand. You invent primitive stories - like the one about Jews who kill children for their blood - to reinforce your image of Jewish evil. You deny the Holocaust because if the Jews were as powerful as you say, they would never have allowed it to happen.

In my world, people search for truth in their own diverse ways. In your world, the faithful and the infidel battle for survival, and words and ideas and cartoons are nothing more than weapons in that war.

So, of course, what started in Denmark ended up for you with Hitler, the Holocaust and the Jew. But in your overreaction this past week, your defensiveness is showing. Democracy is coming to your region, and democracy brings the conversation. Mainstream leaders like Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani are embracing democracy and denouncing your riots as "misguided and oppressive."

You fundamentalists have turned yourselves into a superpower of dysfunction, demanding our attention week after week. But it is hard to intimidate people forever into silence, to bottle up the conversation, to lock the world into an epic war only you want. While I don't share your rage, I do understand your panic.

Cartoonery!

Antimedia has a cartoon over at his place that downright offends me**


**because I didn't find it first.

Happy Birthday! (Belated)

I would be remiss if I didn't wish the Insurrectionist a happy b-day. I was going to do it yesterday morning, but I was late for work and the rest of the day disappeared into a glorious haze of booze, drugs, and hookers. At least that's what the ER docs are telling me.

Anyway...

Happy Birthday, my friend!

Three Parts Blank????

Courtesy of Petitedov

How to make a dead serious

Ingredients: 3 parts intelligence 5 parts silliness 3 parts

Method: Blend at a low speed for 30 seconds. Serve with a slice of lovability and a pinch of salt. Yum!

Username:

Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com

One Ringy Dingy...

Frankly, I’m getting a bit fed up with the whole “wiretapping/violation of privacy rights” issue. For as much time as the newspapers spent on it, you’d think someone, somewhere—in the mass media or in Washington—would have simply applied a little common sense. We could have nipped the whole thing in the bud long ago. But your old friend DS is here to set you straight.

Let’s start with the basics, shall we? Everywhere I look, I see people complaining that taping/tapping/listening to phone calls is a violation of “privacy rights.” BZZZZZZT! Wrong! Look up the word “private” in the dictionary. It means belonging to an individual. Privacy rights are those that belong to an individual. For my money, the second the person at the end of that phone picks up and says “Yo,” anything said is no longer private. Get it? You’ve put it out there. Don’t think so? Let me run something by you…

Let’s suppose one day you grow tired of little Jimmy from next door riding his bike through your flower bed, and decide to do away with the little moppet. One thing leads to another and presto—Jimmy’s on a milk carton, and you’ve got the best rhododendrons in the county. You’re celebrating one night, sitting around in a soft robe, drinking mohitos, when you blurt out—to yourself—“Man, I’m glad I got rid of Next-door Jimmy.” Here, in your house, by yourself, you have a reasonable expectation of privacy. A listening device planted in your house (without a warrant), recording your confession, would seem to me to be a legitimate example of a violation of privacy. Let’s look, though, at version two…

You still whack Jimmy, but eventually the guilt gets to you, and you confess your deed to a friend…over the phone. Now if that friend was me, I’d be setting up a schedule for monthly, undocumented payments. But most people aren’t the shrewd businessperson I am, and would probably turn your ass in. In this case, I would argue that you have no expectation of privacy over the phone, since you’ve already decided to share the information with at least one other person. I say “at least” because you can’t even be sure that your friend is the only one listening on the other end. Think back to those days of high school when you nervously called your crush to ask her out on a date only to find out the next day at school that all her friends were listening in on extentions…and struggling to keep from laughing out loud. But I digress. Still, the question remains:

When did we EVER have an expectation of privacy when talking on the telephone? Think about it. When the telephone was in its early years, who was it that routed the calls? That’s right—the operator. And she could listen all day long if she wanted. No privacy there.

Most of you don’t remember this, but there also used to be a little something called a “party line.” No, it’s not the $3.99/min. kind. A party line was when you and your neighbors shared the same phone connection. Only one of you could use the phone at the same time. And guess what happened if you picked up your phone while your neighbor was on? That’s right—you could hear everything he or she said. It was actually pretty entertaining, and made a nice transition, entertainment wise, from those days of radio into the days of television. Again, no expectation of privacy there.

What about cell phones, or cordless phones?  Any geek with a scanner and a little knowledge can pick up your conversations as easily as they might get the local FM station. You are broadcasting your conversation into the air!! Nope, no expectation of privacy there.

Anyone try calling a business, or doctor’s office, or even a high school these days? Nine times out of ten you’re going to get a message telling you that they are recording the conversation. And the tenth time, they’re just not telling you. Who’s going to listen to that tape? I don’t know. Neither do you; that’s the point. You can’t possibly expect anything said during that call to remain private.

Do I have to even explain the way that Caller ID breaks down the privacy issue?

Let’s face it: there has NEVER been a time when we could reasonably expect privacy while talking on the telephone. Oh, we may have thought there was, but that’s basically because we’re mostly spoiled, self-absorbed individuals. There’s no free speech issue here: no one’s preventing you from talking on the phone, or even deciding what you can say. It’s just that if you talk about blowing things up, you’re gonna bring some heat down on yourself. And most existing wiretapping laws deal with evidentiary issues—what can and can’t be used in court. I haven’t heard any argument that the wiretapping at issue is to be used to prosecute anyone, and I doubt that any judge would allow them in evidence anyway. It’s my understanding that the Bush Administration intends them to be a preventative measure only. I don’t have a problem with that, and unless you’re planning on wearing the latest in C-4 activewear, neither should you.

An individual’s privacy has always been in balance with society’s safety. Here, though, it seems pretty clear. If the government listening to me talk about my analysis of last Sunday’s game, or my last visit to the proctologist, or whatever might strike my fancy prevents some fucking maniacs from flying planes into buildings, I can live with that. And your lives aren’t that exciting either, my friends. We honestly don’t care what you’re talking about when you pick up the phone. So wipe the spittle away from the corner of your mouths, sheath the claws, and be damn glad that you’ve even GOT phone service.

Now, if somebody’s got a quarter, I gotta go make a private call.

Aaarp! Aaarp!

Funniest mistake headline all day...

On FOX news scrolling headlines, I noticed that they mentioned that scientists believe that the Antarctic shelf is disintegrating, causing "the seal level to rise 15 feet."

What the hell is Doug Pace, et. al. doing down there?!!

Monkey Quote Of The Day

I think monkey pimps would go a long way towards validating evolution, don't you?

--Yours truly, while discussing monkey sexual behavior with Dr. Wheaton of the Institute.

Upon further contemplation, we decided that the most likely candidates would have to be orangutans, because they wear a lot of orange fur, and seem much more likely to beat other primates with a folded-up coat hanger.

Ooooh....Look At Me!!!!

In yet another bit of shameless self-promotion, I posted a few more pics.


My first attempt at stand-up. That's my story, anyway, and I'm sticking to it



C'mon, you know you want to sing it. "Believe it or not, I'm walking on air..."



Ah, yes. This is from my life as a traveling minstrel, a Bard. Barred from ever playing the guitar again, that is. Hahahahahahahahaha!



Sis's birthday party, aka a bevy of cute young ladies and me the only boy for miles. "Oh no! Please, please don't throw me in the briar patch!"



Sing it with me, won't you? "Love for sale. Appetizing young love for sale. If you want to buy my wares, follow me and climb the stairs. Love for sale."



Weather good. Hair bad. Wish you were here.



I'm sure nearly everyone has a same-sex pyramid photo somewhere. It should never, under any circumstances, be shown publicly...oh, crap!



"I see tall people!"

A Life (an early one anyway) In Pictures

Because a) I finally hooked up my scanner, b) they are old enough to maintain a certain amount of anonymity, and c) I have to defend my own cuteness in the face of other cute pictures, I've decided to post some photos of the young DS his own self.


My first picture. Also, apparently, my first Joe Cocker impersonation.


My first football game--Jets vs the BALTIMORE Colts


Here's a little game I like to call "Hide behind the curtain and scare the bejeezus out of Mommy." It was soon to be followed by the "Not sitting down for a couple of hours" game. NOT one of my favorites.


Now that the Old Man's cut me in on the will, he won't be needing THIS any more...


Here I am, helping my dad lay some pipe. (Which, if I were speaking euphemistically, would just be wrong.)


Here I am, sporting a haircut I like to call the Prince Valiant. This picture was apparently taken before the concept of barbershops...and also before the concept of self-esteem.


Here I am looking for that pony my parents promised me. The joke's on me, because I have no concept of size, and don't realize that barn is way too small for a pony. We'll see who's laughing when it comes time to put them in a home.

Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief

I also tried many different careers as a child. For example:

Explorer. ("I believe if we make base camp here, we can reach the summit of the toy closet by sundown.")


Fireman



Escape Artist ("And now my lovely assistant Sister Serious the Elder will seal me inside the magic cabinet.")



Bullfighter (I still wake up screaming because of this one. Best not stare at it too long.)



Lounge Singer ("For my next number, I'd like to do a little ditty called 'Hot Cross Buns'...in A flat.")



Batman (Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed out after dark, which seriously curtailed my crimefighting activities.)



Broadway dancer ("Jazz hands! Jazz hands!")



Actor (Here I'm re-enacting the Capone baseball bat scene from The Untouchables..."Teamwork. Teamwork.")



And finally, some sort of orange-pajama-clad gunfighter.

It's Just A Shame

In case you haven't been reading the comments over at Wheaton's place, I want to let you know that commedian Mitch Hedberg was found dead in his NJ hotel room last Wednesday. If you've never seen Hedberg perform, you missed one original and damn funny guy, let me tell you. Here--courtesy of Sean--is page with some of his material. And here's a news story about the incident.

Cause of death has yet to be determined/released, although rumor has it that it was a heart attack. If I find out more, I'll post it.

You Mean, Besides The Fact That We Both Nailed Madonna?

Ken sent me an email pointing out that Guy Ritchie and I have something in common--we both have been slammed by the Catholic League.

(Thanks to Murph at Life Goes Off)

With Friends Like These...

I generally don't like to bring my work life into the blog, but this incensed me so much that I couldn't help it. One of my colleagues sent this email out on the faculty list. (Apart from other things, I find that alone inappropriate.) It's from "her friend Grover." I sincerely hope that Grover is not really a "friend," as that in itself is enough to make me never speak to her again. See, Grover is Grover Furr, who teaches at Montclair. If you don't know, he happens to be--besides named after a muppett--an apologist for Stalin. Yeah, THAT Stalin. Here's a choice line from one of his musings:

The mass murder of Jews, but not only of Jews, by the Nazis is very well documented. In the case of the Cold-War horror stories demonizing Stalin, the shoe is on the other foot -- all the evidence points in the _opposite_ direction.

This, of course, will come as a great suprise to those families who suffered and/or fled the Soviet Union.

You can read some more about Furr at Frontpage Magazine. To be fair, many consider Frontpage to be...less than objective. I will urge you, then, to visit Furr's own web pages. Web pages that he directs his students to use, by the way. Read the man's own words. Check out the reading lists for some of his classes. It's no wonder that he disagrees with the ideas of 'balance' and 'intellectual diversity' in the classroom. The man is, in a nutty-shell, the very reason the Academic Bill of Rights was put together.

But I digress.

The other thing I want to mention is the article that accompanied the email. It's from Stanley Fish, and concerns itself with that very same 'balance' and 'intellectual diversity.' Here's the complete (I know it's long) text:

ALL IN THE GAME
On Balance

The only thing you get when you enforce a political balance in hiring,
teaching, or campus life is a politicized university

By STANLEY FISH

Recently, the Supreme Court once again took up the question of whether it is permissible under the establishment clause of the First Amendment to display representations of the Ten Commandments in courthouses and other public spaces. At issue is the relationship between those displays and the "Lemon test" -- the legacy of Lemon v. Kurtzman, a 1971 ruling that, in at least one interpretation, bars the state from engaging in activities that endorse or promote religion.

In the course of a long legal journey that included suits, injunctions,
petitions, decisions, and appeals, those in favor of the displays argue that their purpose is secular, not religious. The Ten Commandments, they say, are one (although not the only) source of the values and traditions upon which this country was founded. Therefore to display them in a public place is merely to recognize that history, and to provide a momentof education (not proselytizing) for passers-by.

In response to the findings of a district court that the Commandments and some accompanying documents were chosen only because of their obvious "religious references," officials of the two Kentucky counties involved in the latest case modified the display, adding to it political texts, patriotic texts, song lyrics, and pictures.

The idea was to surround the religiously charged materials with materials obviously secular, on the theory that, so surrounded, the religiosity of the suspect documents would be muted and even negated. That strategy (which may or may not prove successful; we'll have to wait and see) is taken from the landmark cases County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union (1989) and Lynch v. Donnelly (1984).

In Allegheny, the court ruled that a stand-alone crèche placed in the county courthouse in Pittsburgh "has the effect of endorsing a patently Christian message." But in the same decision the court said that a menorah, placed outside a government building and flanked by a Christmas tree and a sign saluting liberty, "does not have an effect of endorsing religious faith."

In Lynch, Justice O'Connor wrote that a crèche displayed in Pawtucket, R.I., along with teddy bears, candy-striped poles, and an (ungrammatical) sign reading "Seasons Greetings," "does not communicate a message that the government intends to endorse the Christian beliefs represented by the crèche." The reason, she adds, is that "the overall holiday setting changes what viewers may fairly understand to be the purpose of the display -- as a typical museum setting ... [which] negates any message of endorsement."

I leave the issues raised by those cases to the court's deliberation. My interest is in the mechanism by which materials bearing substantive content (as in "Jesus Christ died for your sins") are turned into museum pieces -- that is, into texts whose messages have been aestheticized or commercialized, in the case of the holiday setting (and did Justice O'Connor forget the etymology of the word "holiday"?) -- with the result that they are no longer taken seriously as texts by spectators or readers.

It is not simply that the "museum setting" negates the message of endorsement; it negates any message, and that is its purpose. The name for this transmogrification is balance: If you want to take the edge off or pull the sting from a message that may prove provocative and controversial, balance it with other messages that are either bland or differently provocative.

In that way no one can accuse you of endorsing or saying or meaning anything. Doing the dance of balance indemnifies you from any criticism, except the criticism that you stand for nothing in particular, which will hardly be received as criticism given that standing for something particular, or being perceived to stand for something particular, is what you are trying to avoid.

Of course you could always say that what you are standing for and indeed standing up for is the First Amendment. That really sounds good, but more often than not it is just a fancy way of running away from the real issues that might be debated if balance had not become your new theology.

That is why balance is such an attractive option for administrators when someone like Ward Churchill comes to town, or threatens to.

An administrator in that situation can take his or her cue from Bill Maher, who invited Churchill to appear on his program Real Time but then paired him with the brother of someone who had been killed in the assault on the World Trade Center.

That is genius and a balancer's dream. Maher gets to defend free inquiry and to display his compassion for the victims of an atrocity at the same time. He comes off looking reasonable, fair, and, yes, balanced, while both Churchill and the victim's brother look a bit extreme. What administrator could wish for more?

Obviously, balance can be useful and I have employed it myself, when making up search committees or appointing members of a task force. But useful as it might prove, balance is not a real value. It is a strategy and as such is always political in nature. That is, balance is not the answer to an intellectual question; it is the attempt to evade or blunt an intellectual question. You resort to it not in response to the imperative of determining truth, but in response to pressures that originate more often than not from nonacademic constituencies.

That is surely the case with respect to the demand that a college or university faculty should display balance, in its hiring practices or in its tenure decisions or in its course offerings or in the materials assigned by individual instructors. In none of those instances is balance a legitimate educational goal.

Take the insistence that faculties be balanced so that there is a proportionate number of conservatives and liberals. That is the least defensible form of balance -- called "intellectual diversity" by its proponents, but is really affirmative action for conservatives -- because it assumes a relationship and even an exact correlation between one's performance in the ballot box and one's performance in the classroom.

There is no such correlation: The politics relevant to academic matters are the politics of academic disciplines, and the fault lines of those politics -- disputes between quantitative and qualitative social scientists, for example -- do not track the fault lines of the national divide between Republicans and Democrats. Thus it is not a coherent argument to say that students will benefit from having conservative as well as liberal professors; for with respect to the different approaches to a topic or a subject, party affiliation is not a predictor of which approach a professor will favor.

One might respond by pointing out that our nonacademic commitments and affiliations -- to religions, political agendas, ethnic origins, regional loyalties, sports teams -- will have, to a great extent, formed the person who enters the classroom, but that is an argument of determinism that is belied by every "tenured radical" (and there are many) who is on the "conservative" side in the battles of his or her discipline.

It is always possible to draw a line backward from the views you currently hold to the life events that preceded them; but preceding does not mean producing, and the line cannot be drawn in the reverse direction in a way that suggests that if you attended such and such a school, or read such and such a book, or underwent such and such a conversion, you would inevitably come out on this or that side of an academic debate.

Neither the dire consequences that supposedly come along with a predominantly liberal faculty nor the good consequences that would come along with a "redress" of the "imbalance" exist. The only thing you would get were you to enforce a political balance of persons hired or promoted would be a politicized university.

The same holds for the requirement that a curriculum be balanced between traditional and avant-garde courses. The courses a department ends up teaching will be a function of many things -- the kind of college or university it inhabits, the composition of the student body, the direction the discipline is taking. All of those are academic considerations, and in response to them a department might well have a balance of traditional and avant-garde courses -- not, however, as a goal
and by design, but as an unintended consequence of legitimate educational decisions.

And, finally, balance is not something an instructor should aim for when assigning texts or making up a syllabus. An instructor should first figure out what he or she thinks important and central and then make his or her choices accordingly. There is absolutely no obligation to include materials from every corner of the disciplinary landscape; there is an obligation -- and it is the only one -- to include materials that are, according to your intellectual judgment, relevant.

I teach Milton as a poet whose aesthetic is inseparable from his theology, and that conviction about Milton dictates the materials I assign and the questions I introduce and entertain. I am aware, of course, that there are other approaches to Milton -- psychoanalytic, Marxist, historicist, feminist -- and while representatives of those approaches make occasional cameo appearances in my class, they are, at best, supporting actors and, more likely, negative examples -- examples, that is, of interpretive directions I consider wrong.

I see no reason to include what I take to be wrong interpretations simply because they are there; no reason, that is, except for one imposed on me from the outside and with political, not educational, motives.

To be sure, educational motives might in some instances lead me to choose balance as an organizing principle; perhaps I am teaching a survey of critical approaches. But while balance might be the answer to the question of what's the best way of accomplishing what I'm after in the classroom, balance can never, in and of itself, be what I am after; unless, that is, I want to trade in the academic life for a frankly political one.

To be honest, I had planned a very long, thought-out, and researched reply to this verbal claptrap. I wanted to 'gut the Fish' so to speak. But here's the thing. Since Fish has fairly consistantly maintained that he disagrees with himself, arguing with him is an exercise in futility. But, since I haven't had much exercise today...

First, let me point out that the entire article is based on a false analogy. The idea that the presentation of religious symbols and the choice of viewpoints in an academic session are the same thing is absurd. It may be true that presenting religious symbols in a "museum setting" may make it seem like a courthouse, etc. "stand[s] for nothing in particular," but I have to wonder--what is it, then, that a professor is supposed to "stand" for? My feeling is that they don't. They facillitate, they challenge, they invigorate. They don't dictate or indoctrinate. Or they shouldn't, anyway.

In addition, Fish creates another fallacy: the false dillema. "I see no reason to include what I take to be wrong interpretations simply because they are there," he says. Thank goodness not everyone throughout history has thought that way. Otherwise we might be living on a flat Earth, around which the sun revolves daily as it and the other heavenly bodies travel through the heavenly spheres. Or at least we might think we are. The false dillema exists because Fish seems to imply that all "wrong" interpretaions are equally wrong. That is, completely wrong. That teaching that the world is hollow and inhabited by space aliens is akin to teaching that global warming is a myth. We know the world doesn't quite work that way. Take Hiroshima, 1945, for example. Was the atomic bomb dropped because the U.S. thought it would create a quick surrender, saving lives in the long run? Or was it because the U.S. wanted to put a scare into the USSR? Or was it simply because mushroom clouds are pretty? Well, which one is the "right" answer? Are the others equally wrong? What if I just happen to be a physics teacher who believes with all my heart that Superstring theory is correct. That means I am under no obligation to discuss oher theories? I don't think so.

Maybe Fish's analogy is good for something, after all. If a courthouse, say, includes a number of religious and secular symbols, one might argue that the impact of any one is dulled, and that the courthouse is endorsing nothing. The same might be said if (as I believe they should) they refuse any and all religious symbols. However, that doesn't translate to academics. If you provide a number of diverse views, you might not be endorsing any one in particular (I'd like to think that you are providing choice rather than balance), but if you remove all views, you teach nothing.

What I find ironic is that one of the best refutations of Fish's argument is made by Fish:

And, finally, balance is not something an instructor should aim for when assigning texts or making up a syllabus. An instructor should first figure out what he or she thinks important and central and then make his or her choices accordingly.

In other words, politics doesn't come into the classroom, anyway. It's all about the academics. In that case, certainly there would be no detriment to the students no matter what the ideology of the professor. And in that case, why not implement a policy that encourages fairness in hiring. Fish calls it "affirmative action for conservatives." It's funny how for some people that term only becomes derogatory when it refers to conservatives. I mean really...can you imagine Fish, or anyone else trying to make this argument about any other group? If political and ideological diversity don't matter, if it's all about the academic, then why hire women? Why hire Blacks, Hispanics, Jews? If balance in the curriculum doesn't matter, why even have a womens' studies program? Why have pop culture classes? What possible good can come from studying philosophy?

Well, of course the truth is, that in an ideal world, Fish would be right. We would leave our real selves at home and in the classroom adopt the unbiased, objective teacher persona, and we would only teach that which is "right." But this isn't an ideal world. One look at Grover Furr's websites should tell you that.

Your Money Or Your Life...Or A Quick Interview

This just in: In Flint, Michigan, a man has robbed a succession of banks. The twist? He impersonates film maker Michael Moore. Apparently the two men look alike, and even dress alike. When the tellers were asked how they knew it wasn't Moore, one of them responded "Easy. He wasn't a complete asshole."*

*Note: This part didn't really happen. But don't you wish it did?