b l o g o s

where there's a dissertation there's a whippet, MOR edition

Zadie knows a thing or two about heckling. Also blankets. Part of an ongoing series.

where there's a dissertation there's a whippet, JDM edition

The tradition lives on!

Where there's a dissertation there's a whippet, KRK edition

Celebrating the 10th anniversary of this tradition. Go here for the archive. 

where there's a dissertation there's a whippet, JH edition

an enduring series. 

where there's a dissertation, there's a whippet, AKH edition

where there's a dissertation, there's a whippet, WS edition

where there's a dissertation there's a whippet, KML edition

how writing and raising a toddler are analogous if at times conflicting efforts

About three and a half weeks ago, our toddler, normally a Very Good Sleeper, decided that good sleeping would be a 2.5 year phase, one with which she was finished. She screamed and kicked her way through bedtime; once she fell asleep, just as *we* were settling into bed or even falling asleep ourselves, she would rise up as if from a horror movie (and for us it was very much a horror movie) and prompt sleep-destroying andrenaline surges on our parts by bursting into our room and announcing she didn't WANT to go to sleep. It was horrible. We hated life. We consulted our baby-sleep bible (we are committed Weissbluthians, and believe me, this book takes commitment--the guy is a terrible writer). Anyway, the toddler section reassured us with a couple of techniques and reminded us of the importance of sticking to our routine. I doubted it. Everyone doubted it. We bickered. We withheld the iPad (she didn't care). We fielded advice--wanted and unwanted--including (commonly) that she needed to be kept awake until 9 or 10 or 11 at night. The thought made us shudder: we didn't stay up that late. So we decided to stick with the method that we believed in, the philosophy of which is pretty simple: 1) sleep begets sleep; and 2) a routine is crucial. Tonight, after several nights in a row of improvement, I think it's safe to say that Weissbluth and his horrid prose didn't fail us. She is now leading us through the sleep routine, which in recent days (in response to the sleep-deprived hell of the previous two weeks) had become even more regimented and predictable. By 6:45, magically, she was asleep. We looked at each other in disbelief. We ran for our computers.

At this point I should stop and make an important caveat, lest I step into a fray I know better than to step into: I don't wish to claim that the "sleep-begets-sleep" applies to all toddlers or babies. The point here is choosing an approach and having some patience with it. Even that doesn't work for everyone, and I'm really sympathetic to those who continue to struggle in the sleep department. It's an awful, awful hell.

Anyway, sometimes the writing we do is an analogous (though perhaps quieter) hell. It's slow-going. The time creeps. Other stuff tries to distract. It grumps us up. Sometimes we give in and depart from habit.

But a daily routine with incremental effort is still the most likely to yield results. 1) Writing begets writing. 2) A routine is crucial.

 

 

course flyers

These flyers are for English 297A: Sports / Ethics / Literature, a course I'm teaching this spring here at Penn State. (Knowing the school gives important context for the second flyer.) Full description after the flyers.

flyer 1: Let's Go.

flyer #2, with h/t to Academic Coach Taylor.This one captures the spirit with which this course originated.

flyer #3, aimed at the Paterno Fellows:

Flyer #4, for Schreyer Honors College Scholars, Paterno Fellows, and English Honors (with h/t to the computer setup in SHC's Atherton Hall (photoshop really is better):

And finally, the description as it currently stands:

Sports / Ethics / Literature

 

There may be no better time for engaging and developing thoughtful approaches to sports and sports culture than now. Sports can tell us a lot about the cultures that promote them. The coach, the athlete, the spectator, and the gamer all stand as figures through which people articulate and test their values and desires. Authors, too, have often turned to sports to comment on the human condition. But far from being timeless or nonspecific, their commentary reveals a good deal about how particular cultures form identities. Novels from previous decades invite readers to think about the historical and political development of gaming culture, dance marathons, or women’s baseball leagues. A novel featuring a philosophical quarterback links football to metaphysics, and a science-fiction story in which skill sets from past NBA legends are distributed to new players by lottery offers potent commentary on race. In short, culture can be read through sports and sports through culture. The readings for this course will encourage students to reflect on social interaction, human behavior, and ethics in the context of organized athletic competition.

 During a unit focused on Penn State, students will spend time in the Penn State Sports Archive exploring the institution’s history with regard to sports ranging from Archery to Wrestling.

 Students are encouraged to petition for this course to count for General Humanities requirement, or to honors-option the course.

 Readings will likely include Don DeLillo’s Endzone,  Horace McCoy’s They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?, Robert Coover’s The Universal Baseball Association, H. G. Bissinger’s Friday Night Lights, John Edgar Wideman's Hoop Dreams, Barbara Gregorich’s She’s on First, and short stories by Jonathan Lethem, Toni Cade Bombara,  Jonathan Franzen, and David Foster Wallace.

necessary but by no means sufficient

In the days leading up to the removal of the Paterno statue, my stance was generally agnostic. Or at least I thought it was. I agreed with folks like Russell Frank who calls the debates about symbolism "off the point."

But then PSU President Erickson's announcement--and the statue--came down today, and I realized my stance was not agnostic at all. Or better, this was one of those issues with roughly two solutions, action or inaction. And inaction in this case would have been a kind of action.

Sarah Koenig's amazing reporting at Penn State for This American Life has revealed time and again how administrators here are beholden to big money and (therefore) to football. This was one of the main takeaway points from the episode "#1 Party School," which connected dots between alcohol, football, money, and administrative decisions. The program, by the way, is worth a re-listen in light of recent events. It's almost eerie.

The removal of the statue was a necessary but still insufficient response to the Freeh Investigation's findings on the university's culpability in Jerry Sandusky's crimes. At the core of the university leaders' inaction on Sandusky lies the culture of football at Penn State. The people most upset by the statue's removal are--guess who?--supporters of football and of Joe Paterno. To leave the statue where it is would have been to maintain the status quo. To remove it (even if it is placed elsewhere ultimately and with proper historical narration and context) is a first step toward taking back the university. 

Removing the statue is, at base, really no different from the removal of Gary Schultz's name from the child care center on campus back in November (Schultz is one of the administrators whose name appears frequently in the Freeh report). But it's pretty different for two reasons: 1) there was no outcry in protest (before the grand jury report, comparatively few knew who he was), and 2) no one waited around for a BOT meeting; most of his name got hacked down on the night Joe Paterno was fired. (I should note, as suggested by my letter to the Collegian the day before this happened, I was not at all agnostic about what should be done about Schultz's name on the daycare.) Before the maintenance workers came to sand down the sign and clean up, I snapped this picture.

 In the middle of the chisel marks is a barely legible--because mangled--"U," a harbinger of things to come.