3/4 Crowns and other notes from Banalia

A few minutes to post on my blog and then bedtime.

Trying to gear up for another week in Book Hell. I called around to different tutoring centers today and no one is hiring (yea recession!). Then I went to the dentist, where I was confronted with a $1500 estimate for the work that needs to be done on my old fillings. Did you know that silver fillings are 70% mercury? Jesus. So of course they have to come out and be replaced by porcelain crowns or some such, for about $450 a pop. Hey, isn't each tooth worth a month's rent?

Life is so absurd. The day was marginally saved from being utterly dismal by the amazingly delicious butternut squash and Parmesan gratin I made for lunch, and by my students' spirited discussion of the rhetorical gaffs and triumphs of the third presidential debate. Oh, and Kate sent me a birthday present that I really like. It's a seasonal cookbook with all sorts of recipes for cheap, local produce. And then, the kitty is especially cuddly today and it's always pleasant to have a warm, soft purring machine parked next to you on the couch. So in retrospect, aside from being depressed about my career and lack of considerable capital, it was a good day.

I'm a bit too tired for sharp political commentary tonight; hence, the diary-like aspect of tonight's post. I'm sorry, dear readers. Sometimes it feels good to write things down even when they are globally insignificant.

Seeing Red

And no, I don't mean elephant red. I mean cartoon character red, with steam shooting out of my ears in angry huffs. I'm feeling very frustrated today and have no outlet for this excess of bookstore-driven rage.

In general, I'm very content. I love my husband, second job, theatre stuff, and new hobby of baking bread each week. I've been talking with E and B and the serious readers' book club looks like an eventuality. I think everyone will bring fascinatingly different books to the table, which should lead to great discussions and a lot of new knowledge. I've also been invited to join a book club of ladies I really don't know, other than having met a woman, Kate, at a dinner party. I don't know that I'll like it, but it's nice to at least have the possibility of making new friends. Plus, it's almost my birthday and while I don't have anything planned, I did take next Saturday off from work just to give myself a whole weekend at home. I have to grade papers next weekend, but whatever. When am I not grading papers?

It's just that whenever I think about the bookstore--and I have to for 5 days each week--I feel so disappointed and depressed. There is good reason for these emotions. For example, I spent yesterday opening cartons of books, arranging the books on a table in numerical piles according to the last digit of the isbn #, taking large piles of these books to carts labeled with the same number, and then carrying duplicate titles to stacks on pallets, also labeled with corresponding number values. While I engaged in this stimulating exercise I got to listen to a coworker justify my below-standard wages and make passive-aggressive statements and facial expressions about my job competence. There was nothing wrong with my book piling technique, and as far as I can tell, there is nothing wrong with any of my job competencies, but Jonathan felt compelled to insult me all day anyway. Sometimes--yesterday would be one of those times--I feel less like I have a job and more like I live in the circle of hell that Dante's editor excised from The Inferno because it was so boring. I would also compare the toxic social atmosphere to the jail scenes from Invitation to a Beheading, but unfortunately I can't disappear my colleagues by wishing them gone.

I was poised to quit the other day, but I worry about finding a new job in this economy. I've also been thinking a lot about getting a teaching certificate so that I can work as a public secondary school teacher--or at least be more competitive in the private and charter school sectors--but the idea of going back to school for a third graduate degree is appalling. Besides, where would the money come from?

I do feel myself dying inside with each day I work at the bookstore, and I don't mean that in a melodramatic way. It's just hard to spend 8 hours each day being treated like an idiot and doing mundane tasks when one is not an idiot and is capable of more. The longer you spend being treated like an idiot, the harder it is to remember that one is not dumb. I worry that I will slowly devolve into Lorie, the older woman at work who seems to communicate through monosyllabic nonsense: when you accidentally cross her path in the warehouse, she goes, "beep, beep!"
I work in The Inferno as re-conceived by Richard Scarry.

I know that feeling sorry for myself is pointless, and that action is the only cure for unhappiness like mine. I have to motivate.

I might start by writing a series of essays about the banality of the warehouse.
I might apply for the language arts teacher position and the corporate writing job I saw advertised on craigslist.
I might live off my savings for a while, while I try to write and tutor under the table.
I might fly into a rage at my fat boss one day and quit after enumerating his managerial flaws.
I might do all these things.

Except that last one. Wouldn't want to hurt his feelings.

Like Coffee but Seedier

I have a presidential election news addiction. When I'm not working, doing chores, or socializing, I'm on the computer reading about the election. The New York Times and Salon.com are my primary dealers, but I'm not above occasional rendezvous with Yahoo News or YouTube. Sitting with the latest political tidbit has become a comforting habit, like drinking coffee first thing in the morning. I feel wrapped in the world, with the political junkie's pleasing, brainy high. McCain's missteps? Bring 'em on! Obama's elitism? Let's talk! Palin's platforms? Hellooo, mama.

But when, 10 minutes ago, I found myself reading about Palin's expensive wardrobe as though this were her primary flaw as a vice presidential candidate, I had to pause. How much information is too much, and too little at the same time? I think it's funny that the RNC purchased designer pumps for the princess of plumbers, but it's also totally unsurprising and irrelevant. Of course she's wearing expensive clothing. She's a well-off politician who needs to look good right now in front of the camera. Besides, there's no honesty to her "'I'm a real American Joe!" act, anyway. Unless the average American shoots wolves from planes, has her pastor protect her from witchcraft, and absorbs foreign policy experience from geographical pseudo-proximity, Sarah Palin escapes any normative definition of "American." And since her support base is comprised of men who think she's hot (see "Among Rock-Ribbed Fans of Palin, Dudes Rule"), why not dress the part? Her whole bid defies reason; why should what Palin wears make any more sense than the rest of her campaign?

Fluff articles like the one on Palin's clothing only do two things: they provide catharsis for nervous Democrats who fear McCain's come-back potential on Election Day, and they distract readers from real news. Tomorrow morning Republicans will be crying foul about Democratic smears on Palin's pantsuits, and Democrats will be pointing to her outfits as further evidence of Republican dishonesty and the McCain campaign's horrific managerial style. When, of course, none of this matters. Everyone who knows that McCain and Palin are hypocrites will continue to know so, and everyone who disagrees will continue to support Rush Limbaugh's favorite hockey mom. At this point in the this surreal election I wouldn't blink if Palin wandered onstage naked to the soaring chords of "Free Bird" and McCain declared the event a great moment in American feminism.

Point being, why am I reading this nonsense when I should be in bed?

I'll think about that tomorrow. In the mean time, console yourself with this thought: If she does become our VP, at least she'll look good on those lunch dates with Carla Bruni.

Gratification! Or: Why I Sometimes Love Americans

Read Bill Kristol's column in the New York Times today. And then read the readers' comments. With the exception of one commentator, everyone inspired to write in (I was, too, but so many people felt compelled to respond that the paper closed the forum) blew apart the logical fallacies inherent in Kristol's dichotomy of the "elite" and the "vulgus," or common man. According to Kristol--apparently representative of the everyman, with his PhD, White House positions in two Republican administrations, own political magazine, and contributor status with FOX News and Special Report with Brit Hume--Joe the "I can't seem to pay my taxes or find my license" Plumber is a savvy analyst of the current fiscal crisis and war in Iraq, and Sarah Palin's lowest common denominator populism is actually exemplary of the democratic process. You see, because "vulgus" means people, and a democracy is a government run by the people! So to be vulgar is to be democratic and to be elitist is to pave the way to totalitarianism. I mean, duh.

Thank you, Bill Kristol, for illuminating the democratic process.

What Bill Kristol is forgetting, and this exposes his own elitist assumptions about the masses, is that there are "elitists" in blue collar jobs in America. There are people with good educations and analytical talent working as teachers, bus drivers, janitors, retail clerks, construction workers and stay at home parents. I know, because I am one of those elitists. We make shit for pay and we work two or three jobs for health insurance and we know that buying a home and having a decent retirement account will be very difficult. Demographically, Americans like myself are allocated to the domain of the vulgus. And the vulgus likes the vulgar politics of the Republican party.

Except, and this is what made the reader comments so heartening, many Americans are insulted and repulsed by Kristol's wiggly act of redefinition. There is a keen difference between rule by the people and in the people's interest and mob rule. Mob rule allows the people to dictate policy according to prejudice and whim. Mob rule is a terrifying and magnificently effective political strategy because it is devoid of critical insight. Mob rule vulgarly asserts that there is a clear answer, usually in the form of a person or persons, to complex problems like the housing bubble and terrorism, and some Americans like clear answers because they don't like to think. Kristol is banking on this constituency to back his claims about the true nature of the U.S. government.

But luckily for us there are at least two major problems with Kristol's assumptions. One, the people who would support (or wouldn't notice) his rhetorical slight of hand probably aren't reading his column. And two, those of us who are, Republican and Democrat, probably don't like being referred to as vulgar, or associated with the xenophobia, multicultural ignorance, anger, falsehood and ineptitude that has characterized the Bush administration, the McCain-Palin campaign, and the far right that continues to support the formers' failed policies.

There is no question that there are ignorant bigots in America who genuinely believe that all Muslims are terrorists and anyone with a college education is out of touch with reality. This is a result of structural inequities in education and the economy that need to be addressed by the next president. What angers me is that instead of renouncing and addressing the root causes the nation's vulgar ideologies of race and poverty (see above inequities), the educated professionals in the conservative wing of the Republican party are holding these destructive ideas up as the epitome of democracy.

So I want to say thank you to all 600 people who wrote into Kristol's column to renounce his suggestions about democracy. We may not all have PhDs or White House staffer jobs waiting for us, but we are the opposite of vulgar. And in the present historical moment, that's downright elitist.

The Domestic is Political

My blog posts are getting a little pedantic; even I'm tiring of seeing the tripartite phrase "social, political, cultural" that precedes half of my comments about the presidential election and Americans in general. I blame it on spending 80% of my day listening to NPR and on having read too much feminist theory in grad school. And maybe just a little bit on my predilection for soap-boxing in print, where no one can evict me from my post.

But I'm tired of politics today. There's only so much bad news a body can absorb before it shuts down to take care of more immediate privations like hunger and sleep.

I've been thinking a lot about hunger over the last few days. In particular, kicking my fledgling program to eat and live more sustainably up a notch. Our summer farm box deliveries end this week, and I'm going to miss how easy it's been to eat seasonally. I'm contemplating signing up for a year-round program, or at least forcing myself to buy seasonal, and when possible, local produce from New Seasons. While a winter diet of cabbage, potatoes, and onions sounds more like a throwback to my impoverished Eastern European ancestors than a feast, it's the ecological and economical way to eat. Besides, lots of yummy things are available in the winter, like satsumas and dark leafy greens. Incidentally, I have a new baking book with a recipe for oniony greens pie, which I cannot wait to make. And T and I eat meat, so there are plenty of healthy roasts, stews and casseroles to tide us over until spring. I'm afraid that T will complain about the absence of summer foods like fresh tomatoes--we both love tomatoes--but he doesn't do the shopping, so I possess all the culinary power in the household. He will bow to my will. Bwa-ha-ha!

Moving on...

I'm also going to see if my mom wants to share weekly dairy deliveries from a local farm, Noris Dairy. They actually bring fresh milk, cheese, yogurt, and butter in glass bottles to your door, for no extra charge. The products are a little more expensive than the grocery store organic brands, but I figure the extra dollar goes towards maintaining a healthier relationship with the agricultural community and to supporting small farmers. The only problem is that T and I definitely can't eat $18 worth of dairy a week, which is why we need a dairy pal.

And then, I'm investigating buying into an animal, like buying a quarter of a cow. The problem with this is that: (1) that's a ton of meat and (2) we'd have to rent a storage locker or something. I can't see our landlord agreeing to hanging a gigantic haunch of meat in the basement. Where it would rot and foster maggots, anyway. Though, the silver lining of that plan is that hospitals are starting to use maggots to clean out gangrenous wounds. The festering haunch might provide me and T with a tidy side income.

Finally, when we get a house I will expand my potted garden into a wonderful veggie paradise. And then I'll learn to can and make preserves. Until then I can add a veggie or two to my summer container garden each year, so that I learn how to take better care of plants. Everything basically flourished this summer, but the tomato plant lost all of its leaves and smells somewhat suspect. It's still producing tomatoes, though, so maybe it's a balding exotic?

I've also started baking our bread, and am experimenting with whole grain wheat and rye flours. And--this is the coup d'etat, I'm so excited--I think I'm going to try making cheese. I'm going to ask for a kit for my birthday.

When I have a little more time I'm going to search out some like-minded women so that we can help each other live better. There's so little that we can single-handedly control, you know? Like the job market, which sucks, and the economy, which sucks enough that I feel afraid to leave my horrible job at the bookstore, and the frustrating ignorance and apathy of a lot of Americans. At least I can fill my fridge and our bellies with wholesome foods, and go to bed knowing that I'm doing something genuinely good every day, something that helps people and the planet.

I need to start.

What's in a Name?

I'm feeling jointly optimistic and unhappy this morning, after reading Frank Rich's excellent op-ed column on the Barack Hussein Obama fever currently gripping the Republican party. Rich provides substantive empirical evidence of race baiting and fear mongering by Palin and McCain at campaign rallies; his examples corroborate the terrifying articles and photos I've seen in the local newspaper about campaign attendees shouting things like "Obama is a terrorist" and "socialist pinko" while Palin and McCain look on benignly.

I was pleased to see a widely read and respected media figure writing a comprehensive and damning report of McCain's antics. And many of the NYT's readers agreed--there was a heartening display of disgust from both Republicans and Democrats. But there were enough comments about the absurdity of Rich's claims; enough comments that did not posit evidence to the contrary, but simply repeated the fallacious connections between Obama and radical Islam and Obama and the Weathermen (for god's sake, he was 8) and Obama and socialism, that I worry about America.

To be fair, racism, ignorance, and the mob mentality are old allies of the American people. It is a self-congratulatory and false narrative that America is, always has been, and always will be a place of unfettered freedom. Likewise, a lot of Americans have always been dumb and will continue to wallow, proudly, in their ignorance because, as one of my high school friends admitted to me, "thinking is hard." Palin and McCain are not inventing the wheel by catering to the political, social and cultural ignorance of their supporters. They are simply ensuring that this ignorance will persist.

That is a grave social injustice.

It amazes me--no, stuns me--that in a country that relishes the specter of the Nuremberg Trials as Justice in the works, where political leaders repeatedly hold up the Holocaust as the gold standard of political metaphor, we would see, in 2008, angry mobs repeating lies about a black man. It doesn't surprise me that the mobs don't understand the difference between Maoist communism and socialized health care, or that the name Hussein is identified as Islamic extremist. I'm not surprised that there are a lot of people out there who hate black men. I'm accustomed to American stupidity. This is a mean thing to say, but I have little respect for the cognitive abilities of a lot of my fellow citizens.

But I am surprised (why???) that the two highest profile American republicans are actually inciting discrimination! That they stand there at their rallies and allow people to conflate black with terrorist with educated with communism with cultured with Islam with anti-war. So that to be a well-traveled, educated black man with a Semitic name who protests a failed foreign policy and advocates health care for all Americans is to be a "pinko terrorist." Because, you know, "pinko" and "advocate of totalitarian theocracy" are identical concepts.

Maybe it all comes down to education. I like to bewail my liberal arts degrees because I work in a warehouse to support a fledgling career as a college writing instructor, and I feel like the American dream failed me. But I wouldn't trade my education for the world. I've read Marx and Engels, I've studied communist Russia and the history of Islam, I've discussed Habermas's mourning of the dissolution of the public sphere, and written papers on what a globalized society really means. I'm not a genius or an expert on these issues, but I know that "pinko terrorist" is a logical fallacy, and I know what a logical fallacy is.

I know that if I ever found myself chanting discriminatory rhetoric with a mob (anywhere other than an anti-war rally) I would be abdicating my intellectual independence and claims to any sort of morality.

I know that a name is a name. And that actions speak louder than words.

you spin me right round, baby, right round

It's dangerous to gloat, or even remain steadfastly optimistic about political successes in turbulent America, but Joe Biden did a good job tonight in his debate with Sarah Palin. Granted, he's about 700 billion times smarter and more experienced than Palin, who clearly kept returning to memorized lines about mavericks, Alaskan energy policy, and the imaginary tax burden that Obama is planning for the middle class. She even admitted that she wasn't going to answer the questions she was asked, which I found extraordinary. Also of note were her cheerful pronouncement that she only had 5 weeks of experience in national politics, and her repetition of the word "maverick" whenever she couldn't answer a question with "In Alaska..."

But I want to break this down a bit. Here are my highlights from tonight's debate:

1. This one time, at band camp?

We know that Sarah Palin was mayor of Wasilla and is governor of Alaska. We know that she's a real maverick who fought big business interests with a Washington outsider's tough as nails approach. We know that she endorses off-shore drilling, and is skeptical about global warming. But these statements, no matter how often they are uttered, are not appropriate answers to questions on foreign policy and health care. She is not running for Vice-President of the United States of Alaska. Also, repeating ideas does not make them true.

2. I don't hear you...

It amazes me that after both Obama's and Biden's logical repudiations of how McCain and Palin are spinning their tax proposal, the republicans continue to insist that Obama wants to tax the middle class. In reality, Obama's policy taxes people who make over $250,000 per year. McCain's tax policy primarily benefits corporations by cutting the business tax and creating new middle class taxes, such as the proposed tax on employee health insurance. McCain's fiscal policies are not dissimilar to Bush's. Both men have been career advocates of deregulation, military spending, and privatizing social security and health care--programs that other first-world countries consider basic human rights. Despite her Joe 6-Pack act, Palin also has a history of raising taxes on the middle-class. This isn't to berate her windfall policy on oil taxes, because that seems (as far as I can tell, and this is new territory for me) okay. But a tax hike is just that, regardless of its beneficiaries. So, despite the transparency of their lies and hypocrisy, McCain and Palin keep misrepresenting the democratic tax proposal. Biden was really clear and factual in tonight's rebuttal of this nonsense, but I worry that the American collective psychology is resistant to logic.

3. Joe Six-Pack

Let's just cut the crap. No one in this campaign--Obama, Biden, McCain, Palin--are suffering with the middle class. If any of them are drinking Coors Lights, it's because they have bad taste in beer.

4. The sky is falling!

This highlight is tangentially related to the debate, but it counts. If you've been paying any attention to media sources over the past few days, you'll have noticed an unsettling phenomenon. Banks are floundering. Stocks are down. The government is considering a really poorly conceived bail-out plan. These events are not what's unsettling me, though of course such economic upheaval is disconcerting. No, what's unsettling is that the media tells people to panic, so they do. Last week, Americans convinced their lawmakers in the House that Paulson's and Bernanke's bail-out plan is, to be nice, not very intelligent. Washington was floored by failure (you'd think they'd be used to it by now) and responded by saying, "But you're panicking, remember? You're really scared right now! Your mortgage, and your small business, and your 401K, and your little piece of the American free market dream! It's time to freak out, people!" So what do Americans do? They panic! They call into NPR and make asinine comments about how a bad plan is better than no plan at all. I suppose this is a corollary to the logic that attacking Saddam Hussein is better than not catching Osama bin Laden.

I'm reading Slaughterhouse 5 right now for the first time, and am struck by the narrator's apathy for political and emotional disaster. Death is always followed by "and so it goes," and unusual events by "and so on." I know that this is an ironic gesture by Vonnegaut, that beneath the casual prose is an ardent attack on war and America's master of the universe teleology. But is unsettles me nevertheless, because I suspect that that is how we live our lives.

The bail out plan passed Senate today. And so on.