Racist?

A gay couple in England are throwing a hissy over their two children by IVF being different races.  They swear that they're just concerned for the well-being of their children, but...if this was a straight, white couple, that couple would be raked over the coals as racists.

I'm wondering if leftists hold gay couples to the same standards as whites, or if they'll be held to the same standards as minorities.  Is their whining racist, or can they be racist, as oppressed minorities?

Last of all, who really cares?  They've got two healthy children, which is two children more than nature would give them.

Paying the Danegeld again

I wrote about this a few years ago, but the story bears repeating: Long ago, in the nation that eventually gave birth to an empire so large the sun never set upon it, a king was faced with a dilemma: his land was being raided, his people killed, and whatever wealth they had with them stolen. There were two culprits, the Vikings from the north, and the Danes from the south.

The Vikings never made any demands or offers--they just burned, murdered, raped, and pillaged (not necessarily in that order). The Danes, on the other hand, sent messengers to the king with an offer: pay us tribute, and we will leave your shores.

The king bowed to their demand. And paid. The next year, he was forced to pay a little more. And a little more.

His successor stopped the payments. When the Danes sent to him with the same demand, he turned them away, saying "Once you pay the Danegeld [the tribute-bribe to keep them from killing the people], you're never rid of the Dane." And then he drove both Vikings and Danes away, at least for his reign.

The President apparently doesn't know this story any better than Senator Ben Nelson did: he's paying bribes to the RIFs that want this nation burning in radioactive fire with the same passion they want Israel destroyed.  

I am reminded of a joke...

Huffington Post bloggers are urging their readers (all three of them) to cut their Republican husbands off until November, and keep them home on Election Day, all to try to prevent the IIC from being made the homeless bum his level of talent and intelligence says he should be.

Yeah...that only works in Greek comedies. 

I'm sure the bloggers and readers will find that the following joke can be on them just as easily.

A typical macho man married typical good-looking lady and after the wedding, he laid down the following rules:

"I'll be home when I want, if I want and at what time I want-and I don't expect any hassle from you. I expect a great dinner to be on the table unless I tell you that I won't be home for dinner. I'll go hunting, fishing, boozing and card-playing when I want with my old buddies and don't you give me a hard time about it. Those are my rules. Any comments?"

His new bride said, "No, that's fine with me. Just understand that there will be sex here at seven o'clock every night, whether you're here or not."

Stupid f&*%ing computer...

I haven't been able to get on the internet consistently all morning.  Netbook saw the network, could get to Odysseus's computer, but somehow couldn't see that it had internet access.

It did that yesterday, too.  Now, I'm behind in grading.  (17 16x3) blog posts for 101, and (23x2) blog posts for 102.  Picking up final papers for 101 tomorrow (though four people turned theirs in early, and have been graded), and 102 on Wednesday.  I'll have blog posts to grade next weekend, and the weekend after that, then I'm done.

And next August, during the sales tax holiday, I'm getting a new netbook, at the very least. 

I've been mulling this over for a while.

I don't have enough information to determine what to think of this story.  Apparently, a group of atheists paid to have a public service ad run before a movie in a theater in Texas.  The theater backed out. 

1.  Did money change hands upfront?  If so, was it returned? 

2. Is the theater a small, independently owned and operated business?

If the theater accepted the money, but didn't run the ad or return it, the atheists are completely in the right.  If the theater accepted the contract, sum to be paid monthly on running the ad, but never ran the ad, the atheists are in the right only if a bill was presented. 

If the theater is a franchise, the atheists are in the right. 

If the theater is a small, independently owned and operated business, it's a little fuzzier.  I guess the Civil Rights Act doesn't differentiate--somehow, by showing movies and being a space of public entertainment, they have fewer rights to turn down business and advertisers.  Something about disseminating public information.

I still think that an independent owner should have more rights to choose who they will and won't do business with, based on their own beliefs.  Ever seen those signs in the front of salons warning nasty-tempered customers that they will pay extra for bad attitudes?  Same goes for anything.

Yes, I will admit to saying that that clears the way for small business owners to discriminate against customers based on what color their skin is, or who they prefer to sleep with.  Dumb business owners will do that anyway.  Smart business owners discriminate by who they think can afford their goods/services, and who they think might well be prone to use their goods/services in manners that besmirch their good name. 

Sometimes, the government gets involved, and tells people who they will and won't sell to, anyway.  That never turns out well.

Again, in the case of the theater backing out of a contract to show ads touting how wonderful it is to be an atheist in a largely-Christian area...I don't have enough info to be able to determine who's in the right, even in my own mind.  I can, however, tell who's being smarter about catering to their customers' wants, and who's acting like a child throwing a "but I want it!" temper tantrum.

On another note...ever notice how much more faith an atheist has to have that there isn't a supreme being, than the rest of us need to have to believe that there is? 

FFOT: Umm...

Okay, I understand that part of the government's job is to protect the public, and to protect public land.  I get that. 

What I don't get is how an agency that has no powers to contravene the rights laid down for us by God and protected by the Constitution...can get away with doing just that.  And not just get away with it, but get away with it scott-free for so long that they think they have the right to shut down entire sectors of private enterprise simply because they're politically inconvenient to the current religious dogma of man-made global warming. 

Not so sure this is such a glowing endorsement.

I'm not sure which is worse: being serviced while on duty (and don't forget: they were there scouting for Obama's trip, and had his itinerary in one of the rooms that saw action), or being forced to admit you were too drunk to be serviced. 

I have some interesting views on prostitution.  Namely, it's between the individuals involved and Whomever they answer to.  So long as it's fairly contracted, and fairly paid for (which is the--ahem--root of the problem in this situation), and none of the individuals are married, I have no problems with it.  It's more honest that politics, after all, and far more honest of a life than that of many preachers' wives I've met.

That said, these men are tasked with one of the most important jobs in the country: protecting the inhabitant of the White House.  Yes, the current inhabitant is a blithering idiot communist, but that isn't the point.  Those assclowns in Colombia put him in unnecessary danger by a) arranging the "party," b) letting unvetted personnel into places where they could access information about the POTUS's trip,  c) pissing off one of their call-girls, and d) apparently, having some of their number too drunk to fuck, much less function at their jobs. 

I've mostly stayed out of it, other than laughing at the idiots involved, but this was so far beyond the stupid as to require comment.

Busy day

The imp woke up at about seven this morning, and was in a good mood.  A very snuggly good mood--kind of rare for him and how active he is.  He watched Curious George, then The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That.  Then he asked "Daddy get up?  Go Papa's house?  Where Daddy?"

The pixie woke up in time to give kisses and say "bye-bye!"  Well, she kind of more growls it, but it's pretty cute. 

She's been demonstrating that she's got some cat personality traits, lately.  Ignoring what we say ("come here" and "don't touch that," mostly).  I guess her terrible twos are going to be kind of passive aggressive.  'Bout the only thing that curbs it is a swat on the hand for reaching for whatever we were telling her not to touch, or a swat on the leg if she doesn't come to us when we tell her to.  That behavior is dangerous. And she's only going on seventeen months old, and we've already learned that timeouts don't work on her at all.

We got a lot of housework that'd backed up while I was dealing with the migraine that wouldn't die (finally went away yesterday night) done.  I've still got a little more to do, but not much.

Next week is week 15 of the Spring Semester.  I'll be picking up and grading final papers, then picking up and grading revisions.  Last day of class is the 9th of May, then we have Reading Day.*  I'll give them a week to dispute grades, then I'll be turning them in on Friday of finals week--the day after the last final.

Then I'm free for a few weeks before my teaching assistant gig starts back up with summer.

I can't wait.

*Reading Day used to be called Dead Day--until my sophomore year in college when some idiot died of alcohol poisoning diabetic shock (only 18--it couldn't have been alcohol!) in his shower in the campus dorm apartments.

Big lies...

Sorry for the stupid post, but M Sgt B started a series of comments in my post about the FBI and malicious malware fixes.  So, since I'd like to throw this open to everybody, I'm posting all the ones we've come up with so far (credited, of course--I just busted a plagiarist). 

Okay, to start with the one that started it all:

1. It's only for a moment... (thanks for starting this one, M Sgt B)

2. The check is in the mail

3. The drop zone is wide enough.

I'm going to go out of order, because all but one of the rest are...suggestive.  Rob continued with

4. I'm from the government and I'm here to help.

I think I'd rather just buy a new computer...

The FBI has given a deadline by which to check your computer to make sure there's no malware--specifically, the DNS Changer Trojan--or else you won't be able to go back online.  They've helpfully provided a link to check and to download something to clean it off.

I'm so sorry, but I don't think I'd be giving the FSB's--er, FBI's website free access to my computer.  If I suddenly can't get online on July 9 (which I doubt--I regularly run anti-malware updates, as well as routine virus and spyware scans), I think I'll just go get a new computer.

I'm not sure what to say about this...

First of all, while I knew websites that encourage and enable marital infidelity existed, the very concept still offends me to my core.  My personal code is harsher on cheating on a spouse than it is on a murderer, in most cases. 

To have one of those websites ponying up a $1 million reward for tripping and trapping a good and godly man, just because he's a public figure, disgusts me to the point of wishing rectal cancer on the man that offered the reward.  Maybe a little prostate and testicular cancer, as well.  Oh, and bladder cancer.  And boils.  Lots and lots of huge, painful, pustulant boils on the level of what God allowed Satan to inflict on Job. 

I am not a follower of any sports.  I dislike the veneration our culture heaps upon them undeservedly.  I hate that they're held up as "role models" for kids, when the only behavior they're modelling is bad behavior.

That said, the only complaint I've heard about Tim Tebow is that he has the balls to kneel on the field and pray in public. 

That is what being a role model is all about: doing the right thing, no matter who mocks you for it.

Grades = paychecks??

Like the Affirmative Action Bake Sales, I can see the students involved in this completely missing the point.

They worked hard for that good GPA.  I see that.  I understand that they wouldn't want points taken from their good GPA and handed to those that don't work as hard. 

I work hard for my paychecks, and I resent every dollar taken from my family to be given to those who don't work.  I hate--hate--that such a huge part of the federal budget (54%) goes toward things outside the Constitutional responsibilities of the federal government.

I would be willing to bet that most of the students approached about redistributing GPA points to the less fortunate won't see the parallels.

Ironically apropos

The phone rang a few minutes ago.  I snagged the phone on my way through the kitchen toward the back room that used to be a back porch before it was built in, and it turned out to be the local chapter of the GOP.  I continued with my chore while I chatted with the guy for a couple of minutes--he'd called to see if I was willing to/could help with the current election cycle, local edition (new state senators, governor, etc.).

So, what was the chore I'd headed back to do?  Clean the cat's litter box.

Apparently, we need to be hypervigilant on Fridays.

Seems our IIC (thanks, Rob, for bringing that one to my attention!) likes to advance his watermelon agenda on Fridays.  How else do you explain signing an executive order nationalizing the production of natural gas on a Friday (ironically, Friday the 13th)?

I'd love to see some nation-wide, corporate and non corporate, civil disobedience against all of these laws hemming us all in.  They can't arrest 300+ million people, and they can't levy penalties on every business in the country. 

Not successfully, at any rate.

Two day migraines suck...

Sorry I haven't done much with the blog over the last couple of days, but I woke up with a light- and sound-sensitive migraine above and behind my right eye yesterday morning.  Went to bed with it last night.  Woke up with the same headache this morning.  I can get it to ease a bit (coffee + Aleve + Tylenol), but it's not going away. 

I'm just glad that my migraines rarely include nausea.  I'm also glad they rarely last more than three or four days. 

I hate it when programs "improve" things.

The class platform that my university uses regularly "improves" things--oddly enough, neither it nor the campus web platform programs are compatible with IE9.  As in, they still aren't compatible.  Recently, the university switched providers on the student email accounts, causing much difficulty for my students in turning papers in, and/or getting in contact with me.

Now, Blogger's jumped on the "let's fix something that isn't broken!" bandwagon.  The updated Blogger interface, in a word, sucks.  It's ugly, clunky, less user-friendly, and I really, really hate it.  And I really hate it that they just changed it on me without my permission.  So, I fiddled with the white and orange monstrosity until I found out how to get back my old dashboard interface.


I'm probably not the only one to figure out how to fix it, but I'm going to post this anyway.

Over on the right hand side of your screen, you should see an icon that looks like a gear.  Click on that.  It should drop a menu for you that has "Old Blogger Interface" on it.  Click on that, and you should have your old, far more pleasant blue dashboard page back.

I don't know how long they're going to leave us with the option, since it's powered by Google, and Google is evil and invasive, but it's there for now, and works for now. 

God save us all from bored techs and programmers desperate to prove that they deserve their salaries.

The first amendment was never intended to be confined to any one group.

I will admit that the Founding Fathers never envisioned the kind of megacorporations we have today.  In their day, businesses were owned by individuals or partnerships, as was wealth.

That said, neither did they envision typewriters, much less computers, and certainly not possibilities of instant communication like the internet.

If the first amendment applies to newspapers, leftist bloggers, and occupidiots, then it certainly applies to megacorporations.  There is no way in hell that Pelosi and her comrades can pass the amendment that they're pushing forward.  Nor is there any way they're on the side of the people in attempting to ban political speech by megacorporations.

Think about it: they've already banned political speech by churches--any church that mentions the way a moral voter should vote in any race gets their tax-exempt status yanked so hard and fast that it's likely they'll go under.  If they succeed in banning businesses from engaging in political speech, how long will it be before any owners of such businesses--and yes, I'm talking about even individuals who own small blocs of stock in said business--are banned from speaking their minds?  Or running for office?

This is a disgusting attempt to encroach on all of us, using the frame of class warfare.

Two and a half more weeks

I am counting down!!!  Monday starts week 14 of 16, and that last week ends on Wednesday!  After that, I'll be free until the last two weeks of August.

I'm planning on playing with the kids.  A lot.  And maybe seeing if I can teach the imp to read. 

Maybe I'll be able to get to the range more often, and spend some more quality time with a rifle. 

I definitely will finish the set of stories I've been working on.

I should be able to get the clutter out of the house, and get things organized.

Last, but not least, I'm planning on getting rid of a lot of clothes I don't really care for, that neither Odysseus and I have worn within the last six months, and anything that doesn't fit--like the clothes I'm still shrinking out of (finally losing the baby weight I gained while I was pregnant the first time, as well as some I'd put on before that). 

FFOT: Plagiarists

Everybody who's been reading my blog since Tuesday knows that I caught one of my students plagiarizing.  Not just a little, but pretty egregiously.

Then, she had the solid brass ones to tell me it was my fault that she was failing the class, that I wasn't being fair to her.  Then, she told me she was going to go to my boss with one of her classmates that also has a grudge, and they were going to complain and get my decisions (and grades) overturned.

She can fuck off so hard that five generations on either side of her feel violated.  I did not force her to copy a paper from a website, add the class-required header, remove the works cited, and claim it as her own work.  I did my best on keeping my cool, didn't descend to the invective I was strongly tempted to unleash on her, and pointed out that the university policy both defines and sets the consequences for plagiarism, and that she acknowledged that at the beginning of the semester.

She then got even more outraged and went off again, with more verbal abuse--making sure I knew that she had it far harder in her life (lost her husband at 22--lucky bastard doesn't have to put up with her anymore) than anyone else could possibly  have had, and I had no right to suddenly tell her she'd failed a class she paid money for, and I couldn't possibly prove that she'd cheated because she'd never bought a paper.

No, the stupid cunt took one from a free site, and the whole fucking paper popped up when I searched a sentence that was far beyond her writing skills.

She did shut up when I sent her the link.

Maybe someone ought to point something out, here...

Isn't Harry Reid in the demographic he's stereotyping?  My mother, aunts, mother-in-law, and father-in-law are all in that same demographic, and I can tell you right now that they hate junk mail.  I don't know anyone that doesn't, no matter what age they are.

Harry Reid must enjoy getting junk mail.  To, y'know, have a connection with the real world outside that dream world he inhabits.

Ahhh...

Spent most of the day at the local, outdoor, free shooting range.  Forgot the camera, but had a good time. 

I saw something interesting, while I was reloading my .22 bolt action...a little lizard ran past behind me, and up the retaining wall against the berm to the side of the 100 yd. range.  I set the rifle down and followed him to get a better look at him.  He turned around and eyed me, and then started doing pushups!!  It was one of the cutest things I've ever seen!

I feel a lot better than I did...less frustrated, and a lot less tense. 

I am not someone who can be bullied.

Little miss snot plagiarist emailed again, whining about "whyyy?  Why did you fail me for stealing someone else's work and claiming it as my own?  WHY???  I'm going to complain to your boss about how unfair you are for enforcing the university's plagiarism policy!!!"

Okay...first of all, I've already contacted my boss.  He is more likely to back me up than cater to a little snot-nosed twerp whining about raising two little ones by herself (and I wonder who made the choices that led to that?). 

Second, the attempt to browbeat me and turn this into my fault, somehow, just makes me more determined to fail her cheating ass!!!  Why in the world would anyone think it was the teacher's responsibility to fix the paper that she didn't even write in the first place?

I hope she doesn't think that this is going to get me to cave.  She's in for a painful wake-up call, if so.

Little snot...

So, I got an email from the student that plagiarized her paper.  She whined, "I revised and added to a paper I wrote for a criminal justice class for a community college--I don't understand why you won't accept it."

First of all, it's ironic that that paper was for a criminal justice class, since the whole thing was lifted from an online paper mill.  Second, my course policy statement clearly states that plagiarized papers will cause the student to fail the class.  Third, I don't accept papers written for other classes--not for the class's papers, though I'm willing to compromise for the blog posts. 

Last, she needs to learn something from this. 

My final word?

No added snark necessary

The author of this piece did it all.  With pictures.

Now, that right there is what real men do.

I mean, those stupid, uppity women come from somewhere...doesn't it just make sense that they come from girls that learned how to read, write, and keep a household budget?

At least the black culture, here in America, mainly keeps it to ostracizing black kids that want better for themselves than the ghetto.  That's about the only thing I can say for it: it's better than the Muslim culture that poisons little girls that just want to go to school.

I'd ask where the noisy feminists are, but we already know they're too busy attacking stay-at-home moms for setting women's issues back a hundred years.

Best cup of coffee?

I have to say Starbucks' CEO hit that nail right on the head--the best cup of coffee I've ever had?  Yeah, I made that with freshly ground beans (as in, immediately before I made it), in the French press Odysseus got me for Christmas a couple of years ago. 

However. 

Have you ever tried to clean one up?

Arrrgh!!!!

One of my students freakin' plagiarized their incorrectly done paper.

Whelp...guess that means I need to go through and do searches on all of the papers that don't follow assignment guidelines.  Also means that that's one more student failing my class.

Grading papers again

Freshman comp 1 just turned in paper 3.  I got 12 out of about 17, but the university just switched email providers, and the new one isn't working well for the students.  I'll probably accept late papers this time, because of that, so long as they're turned in before Thursday or Friday.

At first glance, it looks like about half the class didn't read the chapter.  They were supposed to have found a persuasive piece, summarized it, and analyzed how well the author/presenter used ethos, pathos, and logos to make it persuasive.

Several have written a persuasive piece of their own.  Damn it.

I know it wasn't really my textbook chapter that caused the confusion--the other half of the class wrote very good analyses (again, at first glance).  So, all I can figure is that the ones that didn't write the summary/analysis piece just didn't read the damn chapter.

This is getting ridiculous.

My three and a half year old son has been getting up a little earlier every morning.  First, he'd wake up at 8:00, or so.  Then, he'd start waking up a few minutes earlier.  Ten 'til.  A quarter 'til.  Seven-thirty.  Quarter after.

This morning, he tried getting up at twenty 'til seven.  

I got up, put him back to bed, then fed the baby and went back to bed myself.  He was up again at 7:00. 

This is seriously getting ridiculous. 

The internet:

What it's for.

Warning: audio is NOT SAFE FOR WORK, unless you have a cool boss.  Even then, please don't be drinking anything if/when you click through.

More moral?

I feel kind of sorry for this particular scientist who's come to the deeply erroneous conclusion that women are more moral than men.  They aren't.  Not really.  Try, instead, more concerned with appearances. 

Because, trust me: if women didn't care what their neighbors thought of them, they'd be sneakier, more ruthless, and far more self-involved than men.

Kipling knew that in 1911.  It's no less true today than when he wrote about it. 

I feel a bit odd...

Kind of lost...but in a good way.

You see, I'm not behind in my grading.  I'm only a little behind in my housework, and that mostly because of an embarrassing turn of events causing the dryer to not dry the clothes.  As in, we could tumble them all freakin' day, and they'd still come out damp enough to go sour if folded and put away.

Turns out that a box we'd tossed out the back door and never thrown away got blown up against the dryer vent, then rained on to the point that it...well, kind of melted, and blocked the vent shut. 

In any case, it's all fixed, now, and it won't take long to get caught back up on laundry. 

Maybe I can steal a few hours to go shooting, soon.  I really need to, and I'd love to get some quality time with a good rifle in that (though I really need to focus on pistol--since my range times are so few and far between, I figure better shoot what I carry to make sure that it functions, and that I don't get so rusty it doesn't matter if the gun works or not).  I just wish I could shoot my Mauser or my Mosin-Nagant.  Love me some higher caliber bolt action rifle time.  I wind up so relaxed that I feel boneless--in a good way, not the oh, my Lord, my shoulder is dislocated way.

Recoil pads are wonderful things.  And they make really cool ones for women that slip under the shirt and Velcro to the bra strap.

Heh.  That led to a funny occurrence, a couple of years ago.  My imp's godfather has a brother-in-law who's a few beers shy of a sixpack.  He saw me shooting that M44 carbine, didn't see a recoil pad, and asked if he could take a shot. 

And it kicked the dog shit out of him.  So, he shot it again. 

Bright, huh? 

My imp's godfather still giggles about how his brother in law complained about his shoulder turning purple for the rest of the weekend. 

I suppose I need to save up for a smaller caliber bolt action rifle, so that I can enjoy shooting without having to worry about the front of my shirt getting soaked.

Sounds like a real character...

If I knew I was going to die, I'd probably write my own obituary, too.  I hate those saccharine, cliched obituaries so common in our local papers. 

I doubt, however, mine will read like this.  But he sounds like someone I'd've been honored to know.

Definitely my son

The imp demonstrated, a few weeks ago, that he can recognize the word "open"--every time we go to Sam's Clubs for diapers, we walk past the lighted "open" signs, and he does know his letters.  I figured that it was a fluke that he recognizes the word "open."

I was wrong.  He also recognizes the word "stop."

He's starting to read early.

So...cute...

Yesterday, we let the imp go to spend the night with his grandma and grandpa again (where they get the energy to keep up with him, I don't know...) while we ran some errands here in town. 

When we got back, the pixie followed me into the kitchen, begging for chocolate milk ("doo jus?" instead of "moo juice").  The cat charged in and started darting around my ankles, screaming, then did the same to the pixie (nearly knocking her over, in the process), before darting over to her (still full) food dish in the back room. 

The back room that used to be the back porch.  The one that has a good, steel exterior door between it and the kitchen. 

The pixie starts chanting "ba kitty" to herself, quietly enough I had to strain to hear her, and toddles over to that door, pushing it shut behind the cat. 

I told her she was a good girl, handed her the cup of chocolate milk, shooed her out of the kitchen, and collapsed into a kitchen chair to have a quiet bout of giggles. 

She gets so offended when you laugh at her, sometimes.  Especially when she's trying to be serious.

Is this mindset really that rare?

I just finished reading a book I repeatedly heard Dave Ramsey recommend on his radio show: QBQ! The Question Behind the Question: Practicing Personal Accountability in Work and Life. 

I am shocked and amazed.  And disgusted.

This book is about nothing more that trying to teach people to look at what they can do to fix their own problems, or perceptions of problems.  This book is trying to steer people away from blaming others (i.e.,"Why can't they ever get it right/do their jobs/give me things I want or need to do my job?"), and toward figuring out what they can do to be more productive, and figuring out what they can do to fix their own problems.

I will admit I got a bit frustrated, when I started teaching.  Our campus email system didn't work, the textbooks sucked, the kids didn't understand the first thing about writing an essay, and my colleagues wouldn't stop complaining about admin, equipment, facilities, the shared adjunct office, turnaround time for the copy center...you name it. 

I thought about it...then gave my students my personal email address.  I tried making do with the textbooks I could find for a few years...then stopped teaching from a textbook (then wrote my own when I stopped teaching in a classroom).  It's not the kids' fault they come to us not being able to write--that is the whole point of our job.  Admin is admin, and they always have their heads firmly planted somewhere dark and fragrant, so it's best to just figure ways to work around it, I never had issues with any equipment issued (I actually prefer blackboards to whiteboards or smartboards), I quit using the shared office in favor of the library coffee shop, turned in stuff to the copy center way earlier than I needed to...

I also quit hanging around with the whiners.  Students were a lot more fun to spend time with.

I have higher ratings than most of the other Composition teachers in the department.  I have the highest ratings in the department in the online sections.

All I can affect is my class and class materials.  I ask for feedback from my students and revise the class accordingly.  I learn new ways to present the material, and incorporate them.  I figure out better ways to incorporate the use of technology into my electronic classroom and my textbook (screen captures, anyone?).

I find problems, or have problems brought to my attention, and I fix them.  I don't wait to be told what to do, and I don't whine about how it's not my job, or how I don't have things I'd like to have to make my job easier.  I just figure out what needs done and do it.  I've got it nailed with work, and I'm trying to set up habits to do better with that in my home life.  I know what needs done, and I'm working on changing myself (the only one I can change) to do it.

Which is the whole point behind the book.

Why the hell is this such a foreign concept?!?

Whups!

Someone accidentally screwed up in a Colorado cable company and aired a couple minutes of hardcore porn during Good Morning, America, which was then (ironically) followed by a couple of hours of religious programming. 

Hey, at least it was better quality programming than their usual.

FFOT: Judge not

I'm in a much better mood this morning than I have been the last several Fridays, so invective will be lighter than usual.  But I am seriously cheesed off by the whole debacle about Ann Romney "never having worked a day in her life." 

Feminazis can FTFO.  With broken glass and rancid habanero cheez. 

I have actually been told, by radical feminists in grad school, that I was betraying the sisterhood by taking Odysseus's last name when we got married.  I've been told that the only valid choice for me, as a woman, was going on for my PhD (which I don't want), and looking for a full time position in an English department (also don't want), and possibly going into administration (really don't want--I teach because I love teaching, not because that's the hurdle to working in Academia, and admin doesn't have time to teach), because we can't have a man telling us what to do!   I had more than one radical feminist tell me that my hobbies were wrong because they were traditional women's work (wrong--knitting was a man's work while he was watching the sheep). 

So, yeah: Feminazis can FTFO.  Susan B. Anthony would be ashamed of the lot of them.

How was your week?  Anyone or anything you want to tell to FO?

Reporting on the cooking experiment...

We opened the first jar cake this evening.  It turned out just like the sheet cake I'd made from the same recipe last week: moist, dense, tender, and delicious.  A pint-sized jar cake is just about right for two people.

Again, if anyone is interested in the recipe (a very simple chocolate cake recipe with no special ingredients or instructions), leave me a note in the comments, and I'll post it.

So...what she's saying is that stay-at-home moms are lazy mooches that don't do anything.

I'd like to challenge Hillary Rosen to a week taking care of two toddlers, a household, and a husband.  I'd be willing to bet she folds in twenty-four hours.

Let's see.  On a good day, my pixie wakes up at 5:30, demanding an early-morning nurse, and goes back down in half an hour or so.  On a good day, the imp sleeps 'till 8:00.  On a good day, I can go back to bed for a while, and wake up feeling refreshed.

On a bad day, the pixie doesn't go back down, and wakes her brother up.  And then I'm trying to keep two sleepy, cranky kids from fighting long enough to get solid food down both kids, and long enough to get the pixie to be willing to go down for a nap. 

On a good day, the kids will watch morning children's programming on PBS, and give me time to drink my coffee, and surf the news sites and blogs 'till about 10:00.  On a bad one, they're alternately fighting over toys and hanging off of my elbows.

On a good day, I get my coffee drank, and go on into the kitchen to put up dishes, and start trying to figure out what to feed all of us for the day.  On a bad one, I slip past the kids, they notice, and scream at the kitchen gate until I give up and sit back down--at which point, they go back to fighting with each other, completely ignoring me unless I try to start picking up and putting away. 

On a good day, they let me know without tantrums that they're ready for lunch, and wolf down whatever I put in front of them, while making minimal mess.

Needless to say, good days at mealtimes are few and far between.  Usually, they hate sitting down to eat, and whine and fuss the entire time they pick at their food--lunch usually takes about an hour for the imp to eat half a dozen pizza rolls (or equivalent amount of other food).  The pixie sometimes isn't any better.  

After lunch, I fight with them to get them both down.  The pixie nurses and goes right down, but the imp goes through "Pee pee?  Read?  Sing?  Rock?  Mama kiss?  Daddy kiss?"  Putting the imp down takes half of the pixie's naptime.  I rarely have the energy to do much beyond stare at the ceiling while the kids are sleeping (and I can't manage to fall asleep, myself). 

After their nap, the pixie begs to watch The Muppet Show.  And the imp keeps sleeping, which limits how much housework I can get done.  On a good day, the imp wakes up happy, and wants to play with his baby sister in his room. On a bad day, he wakes up crankier than he was when he went down for a nap.

Bedtime rituals start with supper--that takes anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour and a half, usually with them farting around, and I take advantage of that time to get the day's accumulated dishes and kitchen mess cleaned up.  Then, the imp sits on the potty chair ("Mama!  Pee pee come out penis!  Toop come out hole in butt!"), then they get their bath.  Then they watch The Lion King--the pixie likes the first three or four songs--the pixie nurses down, then I rock the imp for a few minutes.  Often, he'll wait until I'm just about to put him under the covers to ask to go to the bathroom again.  Then he reminds me that, since he went, he gets candy.  Then he wants to brush his teeth.  Then he wants me to rock and sing some more.  Then he asks for "Daddy kiss?"  (Often, Daddy's at work, so I promise I'll send Daddy in to cover him back up before Daddy goes to bed.)  Bedtime rituals take between four and five hours. 

After the kids go to bed, I finish whatever housework tasks I can quietly enough to not wake the pixie.

The FlyLady stuff works so well because fifteen minutes is usually all I can sneak into the housework at a time. 

Even without my classes, both the ones I teach, and the ones for which I'm a teacher's assistant, my days are too full for a job outside the home.  Actually, I think a job outside the home would be far less exhausting, sometimes.

"Never worked a day in her life," my ass.  More like "betrayed the feminist ideal by choosing a traditional role that didn't come with a paycheck."   

Four more weeks...

Actually, it's closer to three and a half, but spring semester is almost over, and I'm not teaching summer classes.  I have two papers and eleven blog posts yet to grade for Comp I, and one paper and seven posts for Comp II.  Then I have about three months off before fall semester starts the next academic year.* 

Though, on a highly gratifying note, I've hooked something like a quarter of my students on blogging/reading blogs this semester.  A few of them are even making forays into the world of reading and following blogs related to interests in their personal lives, and are discussing revamping their class blogs as personal blogs for fun.  I've had one or two each semester keep writing their blogs, but not one has added a blog roll of blogs they regularly visit and read...until this semester.

My plans for the summer are to revise my Comp I textbook, finish first drafts of my current writing projects, and send those off to publishers.  Oh, and finishing getting the house cleaned, organized, and repaired/renovated. 

I also plan to spend a lot of time playing with the kids, and simply relaxing.  I've been teaching year round for the past three years, and am seriously courting burn out. 


*For those of you who left school and didn't look back, the 2012 academic year consisted of Fall 2011, Fall intersession (two weeks between the end of Fall semester and the start of Spring), Spring 2012, and Summer 2012.  Fall 2012 begins AY 2013.

Neat concept.

Boy, when they say you can can anything, they aren't kidding.

I'll let you know how my Black African-American Midnight Cake* turns out.

*Recipe came out of my sixty-something orange binder Betty Crocker Cookbook, so the recipe title has been redacted for political correctness.  Let me know if you want me to post the recipe.  It's a pretty good, pretty simple chocolate cake.

Quick & easy zesty crab salad

Something cool for warmer weather, perhaps?

1 lb imitation crab meat (best is in the refrigerated seafood section of your grocery store)
1 medium tomato, diced (or about 3/4 cup cherry tomatoes, halved)
1 small cucumber, diced (optional)
1/2 c frozen peas, uncooked (optional)
about 2 c uncooked macaroni or rotini or shells
1/2 c spicy ranch dressing

1. Cook pasta according to package directions.  2. While pasta is cooking, flake imitation crab meat chunks.  3. Drain pasta, and stir in frozen peas, then rest of ingredients.  4. Refrigerate until cool.

This is great when it's too hot to want to eat.  Mix up everything but the pasta and keep in the fridge to add to Kraft Easy Mac packets from the microwave (just leave out the cheese), for when it's too hot to turn on the stove. 

What the hell?!?

My son is three and a half.  We can already tell he's not going to be gay.  All we have to do is watch him.  For instance, his reaction to Raquel Welch's opening number on The Muppet Show?



He plastered himself to the plastic kid fencing in front of the television, and goes "Oooh...yeah..." and refused to move until she wasn't on the TV screen anymore.

I think he'd have been less obvious at Hooter's.  That was seriously disturbing.

Couldn't get back to sleep. Again.

And, apparently, my new coffeemaker really is loud enough to wake very soundly sleeping toddlers.  This is the longest they've slept in (it's actually after 7:00 a.m.!!) in a couple of weeks. 

So, I'm sitting here, mind revving, but going nowhere, and I can't even go start a freakin' cup of coffee without waking the kids. 

Oh, well.  At least I've got my grading to keep me company.  Eight more papers to grade, then I can jump into grading blogs!  Oh, joy.

(In case you can't tell, I'm really not a morning person.)

Musings on being a parent

My kids have been sick, lately.  A little more clingy, and a little more whiny than usual.  They're great kids, normally--lots of energy; and getting into that stage where they want to be independent, can't figure out how, and get frustrated and angry, but great kids, nevertheless. 

All I have to do to have that opinion reinforced is take them out in public.

I used to think I didn't like kids.  I never was one of the whiny, shallow, selfish brats.  They annoyed the hell out of me, because they interrupted my reading time in class by being too loud for me to ignore.  I can't say I wasn't rebellious, though--I told more than one teacher I wasn't going to do an assignment because I was already working on something else for fun that was more complex and advanced than what they'd assigned. 

Somehow, I never got in trouble for that one. 

I never whined about an assignment being too hard, that I couldn't do it.  I never refused to do an assignment because I didn't understand it.  I never threw fits because someone said they didn't know how to do something, or because they couldn't do something (whether due to stupid rules that I didn't bother to follow, or because of a broken piece of equipment).

I still don't.

I see so many who do, and I wonder. 

Why didn't their parents love them enough to teach them how to behave?

I still don't like whiny brats, but I don't really fault them for their behavior, if they're children.  I don't really fault adolescents--it's not their fault that puberty causes a few years of insanity, on top of trying to figure out (often on their own) what it is to be an adult. 

Adults, on the other hand...well, they're supposed to be just that: adult.  People like the individual that made TinCan Assassin's day so shitty need to remember that they're not freakin' five years old anymore. 

They also need to be spayed/neutered so that they don't pass their bad behavior on by spawning.

Urk...

So...the kids and I are all sick with another cold.  I am in no mood for grading, but I have to get the papers they turned in last Thursday done today or tomorrow.  And I already know that one student has failed--he didn't even follow the assignment guidelines well enough to turn in the kind of persuasive paper called for. My class isn't easy to fail--it's a basic, everybody has to take and pass it core class, and I have it set up to pass with a C if you do a minimum amount of work--and this student is failing on the papers he's actually turning in.  I'm getting frustrated, because I've emailed and emailed him about revising his papers, and how to fix them to pass, and he's just merrily bumbling on, failing his ass off. 

I also need to get blogs graded.

I really needed to have gotten this done over the weekend, but with both kids sick and turning into cuddle-bug lap limpets every time I sat down, I didn't have hands free to type with for feedback on the papers.  Right now would be a good chance--they're both down for naps--but I'm afraid I'll just give them all failing grades because of how cranky I am.

Watching a lot of The Muppet Show

Watched all of season two (each DVD a few times) last week.  I'd never heard this song (at least, not in my memory), and now it's kind of stuck in my head. 

At least it's not too annoying.

Happy Easter

28:1 In the end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to see the sepulchre.

28:2 And, behold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it.

28:3 His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow:

28:4 And for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became as dead men.

28:5 And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified.

28:6 He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.

Matthew 28:1-6 KJV 

Hallelujah!  He is risen!  Christ, who died for us, is risen today!  Praise be to God!

  

To the neighbor who started using a power tool at a quarter to seven this morning:

Sir, you suck.  You suck giant, hairy, donkey balls.  That power tool sounds, in our master bedroom, like a three and a half year old child continually screaming in his sleep.  May you royally FUBAR whatever project you absolutely must work on with loud, screaming power tools before seven in the morning.  And may your wife ream you a good one about any costs you incur attempting to repair your power-tool aided screw up.

Guess I'm getting an earlier start than I'd planned, this morning.  Damn it.

Long, busy weekend coming up.

We had a new central air unit put in, today (replaced our old one).  The guy in charge (co-owner of the small outfit selling the unit and doing the work) was incredibly pleased that we cut them a check for the full amount owed before he left.  The two younger guys he had doing the real grunt work were incredibly pleased with the pieces of chocolate cake (made fresh last night) I sent with them--possibly more than if we'd given them cash tips.

With that going on, I had Odysseus run the imp up to my mother's for the day.  Much fun was had by all up there, and the pixie had a lot of fun charming the guys installing the new AC unit.  She was very good about staying out of the way, and very talkative.

I still need to vacuum in the hall where they were working.  The carpet is gray.  It's supposed to be kind of a cream/sand color, but it's a medium gray in front of the furnace/AC closet. 

I picked up papers, today.  I'll have to get those graded before Wednesday, and I'll need to grade blogs sometime within that time frame.  I could tell, even as I collected papers, that one of the ones who's done piss-poor work all semester has totally failed yet again--his paper doesn't even come within shouting distance of being remotely related to the type of paper they were supposed to write, and I doubt he'll be turning in any revisions any time soon. 

We've got set up for all of us to go visit my mom on Sunday.  My sister had her big 30 last Wednesday, and we'll be celebrating that up there. 

I think I'll head for bed.  I'll try to post a couple of things over the weekend, but I make no promises.  If I don't make it...have a good one.

How hard is it to say "No"?

A woman in San Francisco attempted to force McDonald's, by court injunction, to stop putting toys in Happy Meals.  Claims it's an attempt to manipulate her children against her, by making them throw tantrums to get their way.

I hate to break this to her, but...children do that anyway.  It doesn't matter if it's over a cheap toy, not wanting to go to bed, or wanting chocolate cake for breakfast.  Kids throw fits.  That she thinks it's because McDonald's is at fault just demonstrates how dumb she is.  And how lazy of a parent she is. 

We don't usually eat at McDonald's.  When we do, the toy comes in handy, because it distracts the kids after they're done eating long enough for us to finish eating.

I'm glad the judge laughed it out of court.

FFOT: More Speshul Snowflakes

Students at a university in California tried storming a Board of Trustees meeting, and rightfully got faces full of pepper spray for their efforts  Apparently, California is so broke it's cutting funding to its leftwing voter factories.  Interestingly enough, the school that had the near riot happen had, in desperation, done something to keep the classes cut by budget cuts. 

Under the tuition plan, believed to be the first of its kind in the nation, the school is creating a nonprofit organization called the Santa Monica Career and Transfer Alliance, which will offer the courses at full cost.

The foundation will offer about 50 class sections in courses such as accounting, art history, economics, Japanese, music history, speech and psychology — 18 courses in all. If the classes fill up, more will be added, depending on the availability of instructors and classrooms. California residents will pay about $540 per class and non-residents will pay about $840.

Students will be able to apply for some financial aid and the college is providing about 300 scholarships of about $300 each for needy students.

But any nuance was apparently lost to the students. They are reported to have chanted, “No cuts, no fees, education should be free!”

Deep breath...breathe out...rant mode on:

(Warning: there's more profanity, and more screaming [all caps, italicized all-caps, and bolded all-caps] than non-profanity below the fold.  Don't click to read more if you don't want to have your hair blown back.)

Really...how is that possible?

Somebody doesn't know history at all...this idiot thinks that Moses was Muslim, and led Palestinians from Egypt into Palestine.

Dipstick forgot something: Moses led the Israelites--the descendants of Isaac and Jacob, not of Ishmael--out of Egypt back to Israel in the 8th or 7th century BC.  Islam started--really started--in about 610 AD, when the Great Pedophile revealed his "revelations from God."

I really wish people would remember how easy it is to check facts and dates online before they fart from their mouths.

Given how far Pelosi seems to be from reality...

...I'm going to be willing to bet that she might be right about that six-three split, but wrong about which direction it's going to go. 

Ask an offensive question...

Bill Ayers asked why uniformed military get boarded on flights before everyone else in a recent rant.

I got an answer for him: because they risk their lives for people like Bill Ayers and his bitch wife Bernadine Dohrn to have the right to show their ass in public just like he did. 

(As a special aside to the bitch...America is not, and never was, an empire.  We've shoved our dependants and protectorates off of our protections and onto their own two feet as quickly as we could.  The only real exceptions are American Samoa, which does its best to be a productive member of the union despite distance preventing them from becoming a full state, and Puerto Rico, which refuses to either shit or get off the pot on the topic of becoming a state or declaring their independence.  And if it were a collapsing empire, like Dorhn insists...well, whose fault is that?  Who is it, exactly, draining the life out of the nation?  It certainly isn't the military.  Nor yet the individuals with jobs, who pay taxes...)

In any case, to answer Ayers's question in simpler terms: we let the military board flights before teachers and nurses because despite the major service nurses offer society, soldiers serve and sacrifice far more than any of the rest of us, and deserve the privilege.    

Where else in the world could he badmouth soldiers without being stood up against a wall and shot?

It's not judicial activism, dipshit.

"The judicial power shall extend to all cases, in law and equity, arising under this Constitution, the laws of the United States, and treaties made, or which shall be made, under their authority..."--The Constitution of the United States; Article III, section 2, clause 1.

The Muppet in Chief is right in exactly one item in his argument: the Supreme Court isn't an elected body.  That, however, is where his argument goes off the rails.  

Mandatory Medicaid (otherwise known as Obamacare) is on the ragged edge of being declared totally unconstitutional--knock out that individual mandate, and the rest collapses like a house of cards.  Much like the New Deal in the '30's, it claims overarching authority over rights, responsibilities, and privileges that are specifically stated in the Constitution to be left to the states, or to the people, because they're not specifically granted to the federal government by said document. 

Obama thinks the Supreme Court should hold off on declaring his brainshart unconstitutional because, y'know, interstate commerce and New Deal and shit, but he clearly demonstrates a complete lack of both knowledge and understanding of history: the Supreme Court nearly declared the New Deal unconstitutional.  The only reason they didn't is because FDR played dirty, threatened them, and was prepared to back up that threat.  (I won't go further into that because I assume many of my readers know what went on, and if .gov doesn't know and wants to, they can fucking google it, because I don't want to give them any ideas.)  Obama has neither the brains to figure out how to threaten/blackmail a court where even one of the members he appointed thinks his brainshart is unconstitutional, nor does he have the balls to back it up (thanks for that much, at least, Michelle!). 

I know that the Federal Appeals Court expects the DOJ to explain Obama's thinking by tomorrow, but I really think they're asking the impossible.  Obama.  Doesn't.  Think.  He simply regurgitates talking points fed into his teleprompter by whoever has their hand up his ass making his mouth move.

Probably not a Buddhist.

Again, I really wish that states would pass laws requiring schools (public, private, K-12 through university) to permit concealed carry holders to, y'know, carry. 

If someone had been armed, I would be very willing to bet substantial amounts of cash that there would be fewer dead, the ordeal would be shorter, and the local taxpayers wouldn't be paying to prosecute the son of a bitch that shot up a Christian school.

Character flaw: things don't go smooth

Stupid distance learning platform loaded and ran like there was never a problem, yesterday morning.  Odysseus took the kids outside for an hour yesterday morning, so I had quiet to work.  The imp actually came inside without pitching a tantrum, and it appears that the pixie doesn't have allergies like I'd started fearing.  I got my grading done, and things were starting to look up. 

We went to Sam's Club to pick up a refill on the pixie's acid blocker, and I spotted a bunch of sets of new dishes.  Grabbed a box, got the rest of our shopping done, and came back home.  Got in to the sound of a ringing phone--it was some friends of ours, reminding me that I'd said I'd babysit last night.

Shit.  I had plans. 

Oh, well, I could do that declutter cleaning I'd planned while the kids were down for naps.

Shit.  Odysseus needed a nap before work.  There went that plan.

Wandered into the kitchen, and found a new cookie recipe on the back of the bag of peanut butter chips, figured I had all of the ingredients, decided to make the cookies.  Started putting Sam's Club purchases away, and grabbed that new box of dishes to put in the dishwasher.

Shit. It's one set.  One bowl, mug, plate, and desert plate.  Now we have to go back for three more boxes.

Kids showed up.  I'd made Hamburger Helper, and had to bully the older kids (girl was eight, boy was six) into eating.  I could not get my two to eat.  And then, the girl insisted on "helping" me make cookies, and found my chocolate chips.  I told her she could have a few, then kept having to stop her from helping herself to seconds.

It would have gone much quicker had I not had help.

At least the cookies turned out relatively tasty.  Kind of heavy in the chocolate, and grainy in texture.   I think I'd be happier with them had they turned out more like the Cocoa Drop cookies--lighter, fluffier,  and smooth in texture. 

Shit.  That headache I'd fought with all day turned into sore throat and congestion.  Woke up this morning to a full-blown cold.

Sometimes I really hate the distance learning platform.

I'm a little frustrated, right now.  Actually, it's more than a little frustrated.  I'm kinda downright pissed off. 

Y'see, I've been trying to get into my online class's website since Friday morning, and it. Just.  Hasn't. Worked.  I don't think it's my laptop's fault--I haven't had any real problems with blogger, email, or any of the other sites I typically visit. 

Nope, it seems to be limited to the distance learning platform. 

I suppose it might be a combination of something with my laptop, the service provider, and the platform (or possibly even the university's servers), but whatever it is, I'm ready to issue a FO five days early. 

I give up for the night.  If it's still FUBARed tomorrow, I think y'all will be in for a profanity-laced rant. 

And maybe some brownies or something.