Half Changed World

A little while ago, I got a very sweet email from Melanie Lynne Hauser saying nice things about this blog and asking if I minded if she linked to me.  Of course, I don’t mind.  Her book, Confessions of Super Mom is coming out next month, and it sounds like fun.  Super Mom’s powers (the result of "a horrible swiffer accident") appear to be to clean up any mess with a zap of her fingers, to read children’s minds, and to understand the beeps of the scanner at the supermarket.  Not exactly the superpowers that I’d pick if I had the choice, I’m afraid.

Part of what made The Incredibles really work is that they did such a terrific job with Elastigirl.  They figured out a set of powers that really would be helpful for a stay-at-home parent —  trust me, a solo road trip would be a LOT easier if I could reach what the boys drop without taking my eyes off the road — but that also make her a kick-ass superhero.

My all-time favorite superhero story, however, is Scott McCloud’s Zot! comics.  Unfortunately, my favorites are the "Earth Stories," which are the only ones that were never published as books.  In them, Zot is accidentally trapped on our Earth, and hangs out with his girlfriend Jenny and her geeky friends as they try to cope with such real-life problems as divorce, homophobia, and surviving high school.  And he tries to cope with the fact that he can’t single-handedly solve all of the world’s problems.  They’re just wonderful.  If you ever get a chance to read them, do it. (We have a full set of them, but we don’t lend them out; you can read them here if you wash your hands first.)

My husband has written a role-playing game in which you get to play a superhero (or supervillian, if you insist).  It’s called Capes and it’s just been nominated under Best Rules and Best Game in the ENnies.  I’m very proud of him.

If you did get to pick a superpower, what would it be?  I think I’d pick flying.  Other things might be more useful, but I can’t imagine anything being more fun.

By the time I checked my email this morning, I had already gotten messages from both NOW and MoveOn calling on me to urge my Senators to oppose Roberts’ nomination.  The messages I got later from Emily’s List and the Religious Action Center were more muted, saying only that they’ll be following the confirmation process closely and that it’s important to learn more about Roberts’ opinions.

I’m afraid I can’t get too motivated on this one.  First, while I disagree with many (most?) of Roberts’ positions, I see no evidence that he’s a wingnut.  And Bush simply isn’t going to nominate someone whose going to make me happy.  Within the universe of potential Justices that Bush might nominate, Roberts doesn’t strike me as egregious.  (Sorry Bitch, but in the infamous French Fry case, I think his ruling is probably right; not all really really stupid policies are unconstitutional.)

Second, unless the confirmation hearing turns up some dirty linen in Roberts’ closet (e.g an undocumented nanny, a speech in favor of segregation, photos of drug use — and I’ve not heard any rumors of such), it seems clear that he is going to be confirmed.  I’d guess he’ll get at least 70 votes, possibly more.  And it strikes me as a poor use of resources to go into a full mobilization for a lost cause.  Setting aside the money that’s being spent, which might be better saved for future battles (or to buy bus tickets for low-income women in need of abortions), I think you risk demoralizating your base and losing them to burnout.

(Sorry about the title; the reference popped into my head this morning and I haven’t been able to get it out.)

I’m back, still slightly dazed from the long drive home and the return to work today.  So, a short book review, and then off to bed with Harry Potter.

I did read March over the weekend, and I agree with Academic Coach’s comment that you don’t need to have read Little Women recently or to have liked it to like March.  In fact, the author explains at the end that she was in part inspired by a comment that no one is really as goody-good as Marmee. 

Brooks’ March is largely based on the historical character of Bronson Alcott, Louisa May Alcott’s father, and his real life friends Emerson and Thoreau show up in the novel.  She transforms him into a middle-aged abolitionist minister, driven to put his ideals into practice by enlisting as a chaplain in the Union army, and finding those ideals tested by the realities of war. 

While a few of the battle scenes reminded me of Cold Mountain, the overall theme is exactly the opposite.  For the hero of Cold Mountain, all the hardships he faces are but clouds passing across the sky, irrelevant as soon as he is home.  March is about how experiences change a person, and about the impotence of words as tools to share such experiences, and and how unshared experiences can separate people.

This afternoon, I’m heading out to take the boys to visit my family.  (T is going to a role playing game convention.)  Even without the boys, I’d be stressed about the drive (6-7 hours each way); with them, I’m totally dreading it. 

They’re actually pretty good travellers — particularly with the help of our portable DVD player.  But I’m totally intimidated by the logistics — things like having to take both boys into the stall with me when I need to pee.

Wish me luck.

My parents only have dial-up access, so I doubt I’ll be blogging while I’m there.   Bloggers seem to deal with planned absences by either arranging for guest bloggers or asking open-ended questions of their readers.  I’d have to pay for the higher level of Typepad service to have a guest blogger, so I guess you’re stuck with a question.

Mark in Mexico left a trackback to Lauren at Feministe’s post about Rove, whining that this was a distraction from the real business of the country.   On one level he’s right, the same way that MoveOn was originally founded to urge Congress to "Censure President Clinton and move on to pressing issues facing the nation." 

Mark’s list of the top 10 issues is "in this world today and, more specifically, in the United States, the issues that most concern people are (not in any particular order except for 1 and 2):

1. Terrorism/GWoT
2. Our troops in Iraq
3. Replacing 1, possibly 2, possibly 3 Supreme Court justices
4. G8 / African hunger/debt
5. HIV/AIDS
6. Social Security
7. Oil prices
8. Nuclear proliferation in Iran and Korea
9. A bloated, corrupt, inefficient United Nations
10. Hurricane aftermath in Florida and Alabama"

So, my questions for while I’m away are:

What would you list as the top issues of public concern?  In the US?  Where you live?  In the world?  How do they differ from your issues of concern?

I’ve posted my answers as a comment.

Note: even though TypePad is now encouraging you to log in with a TypeKey identity when you post a comment, it’s not required — just provide the usual info of name, email and (optional) URL.

I was going to review Freakonomics for my Tuesday book review, but I found I don’t really have much to say about it.  I was underwhelmed by it — it’s so simplified to be "accessible" to people who are scared of numbers that if you’ve read about the book, you’ve learned as much about the contents as you would by reading the book.  Leavitt’s controversial paper about abortion and crime is presented as a simple statement of fact, comparable to the statement that swimming pools are more of a hazard to kids than guns, without enough information for a reader to evaluate Leavitt’s claims and his critics’.   Mostly, reading Freakonomics made me appreciate Malcolm Gladwell’s skills at bringing complex ideas to life by discussing the people who care about them.

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I’ve been on a fiction reading kick lately, in part due to recommendations from around the blogosphere.  (Note the new "blogs about books" section in the sidebar.)

• I really enjoyed The Icarus Girl, although it didn’t quite finish as strongly as it started.  I have a soft spot for books about hyper-literate girls, even if they prefer Beth to Jo.  Several reviews indicate that it’s based on Nigerian mythology — I wish I knew more about that.  I don’t see how the Icarus myth fits in at all.
• Flea recommended Cloud Atlas, which I liked, although not as much as she did.  I really liked some of the individual stories, but found myself wondering whether the structure of the book was too precious and if it actually added anything to my reading.
• Wayne recommended I Sailed With Magellan as "the best collection of short stories that I’ve ever read."  I’m only two stories in, so will hold my judgment. 
• Next in line, I think, is March.  Do you think it will matter that it’s been almost 20 years since I read Little Women?

And, hey, Shannon’s starting a book club!

I’ve been watching the movies in the 7 Up series of documentaries (7 Up, Seven Plus 7, 21 Up, etc.)  They’re interesting on many levels.

• As a parent of young children, it’s painful to watch the transformation between age 7 and age 14.  The 7 year olds are all bursting with energy and charm, while two of the 14 year olds seem physically incapable of looking directly at the camera.  It reminded me of Anne Lamott’s line that "worse than just about anything else is the agonizing issue of how on earth anyone can bring a child into this world knowing full well that he or she is eventually going to have to go through the seventh and eighth grades."
• These are, in some ways, the first "reality TV" shows.  It’s hard to imagine how much of a novelty it must have been in 1963 to have a camera crew showing up in an elementary school.
• One of the children in the series is Black, but there don’t seem to be any other non-white kids in any of the classrooms shown.  Twenty-one years later, one of the subjects has become a primary school teacher and his students are highly diverse.  It made me realize that for all the books I’ve read and movies I’ve seen showing Pakistanis and Bangladeshis in London, I know almost nothing about when and how that wave of immigration happenend.
• The filmmakers are very interested in class, and how it shaped the experiences of the children.  They ask the upper-class kids what schools they’re going to, and almost all of them were able to accurately state which public (e.g. private/exclusive) schools and universities they’d be attending.  I wonder whether that’s still the case in England.  In the US, upper-class families can generally count on their kids getting into a "good" school but even money and "legacy" status can’t guarantee admission into a specific one.  Class may have as strong an effect as in the past, but it operates through the "meritocracy."  (Although even in the 70s, one of the upper class students complained that the documentary didn’t show any of the work involved in getting into the schools that he was expected to attend.)

I’m up to 28 Up now, and am looking foward to the rest. (They’re on DVD through 42 Up — 49 Up was filmed this spring.)

Ben Adler at the New Republic interviewed a bunch of conservatives about their opinions of evolution, intelligent design, and what should be taught in public schools. It’s quite a fascinating read.

I was particularly struck by James Taranto’s casual reference to public schools as "government schools" — a subtle echo of Grover Norquist’s more agressive statement that "The real problem here is that you shouldn’t have government-run schools." 

I was also dumbfounded by David Frum’s statement — after saying that he does believe in evolution — that "I don’t believe that anything that offends nine-tenths of the American public should be taught in public schools. … Christianity is the faith of nine-tenths of the American public. … I don’t believe that public schools should embark on teaching anything that offends Christian principle."

Ok, but does that mean that he thinks teaching evolution offends most Christians?  I think the vast majority of Christians agree with the theory of evolution and have no problems with it being taught in schools.  Interestingly, I argued the same point last week over at Raising WEG, in response to Mia C’s question "But will any of the religious parents be discussing evolution and atheism with their children?"

***

Updated: Via Right Magazine (found by following my inbound traffic), I’ve learned that Frum says he was misquoted.  He writes: "I have no idea what proportion of Americans object to the teaching of evolution, but I very much doubt that it’s 90% or even 50%."

That’s a relief. 

I’ve been looking forward with cautious optimism to the movie of V for Vendetta.  It’s based on the book by Alan Moore and David Lloyd, the first graphic novel I ever read.  It’s set in a totalitarian near-future England (well, the 1990s were near-future when it was written), and is about freedom and imagination and loss and love and history and hope.  And the hero is a terrorist.  (The WarnerBros website delicately refers to him as a "vigilante.")

Lis at Riba Rambles wonders how the message of the first teaser poster (People should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people.) is going to go over in the current political climate.  It’s a good question. I’m suddenly realizing that I’m not sure I’m going to be able to handle a movie in which the Houses of Parliament are blown up in the first five minutes. 

The violence in V for Vendetta is pretty much all aimed at agents of the state and at symbolic buildlings.  If innocent bystanders are killed in the process, you don’t see their broken bodies.  I wonder how the movie makers are going to handle this — and I think they’re damned either way.  If they don’t show it, they’re whitewashing terrorism; if they do show it, they’re glorifying it.

Remember, remember the fifth of November / Gunpowder, treason and plot. / I see no reason / Why gunpowder treason / Should ever be forgot.

The movie is being released in November, for the 400th anniversary of Guy Fawkes’ plot to blow up Parliament.

I only needed to listen to the radio for a minute this morning to figure out what had happened, then turned it off again, not wanting to field questions from D about what had happened and why.  (I won’t be able to shelter him from the world’s horrors for much longer, but I’m going to do it while I can.)  I listened some more on a portable radio on my way to work, turning it off only when my train descended underground and the dulcet BBC announcers turned into static.  The metro was less full than usual, and I can’t help but thinking that a bunch of people had heard the news and decided not to risk public transit this morning.

I know, I know. More people die every day of routine traffic accidents, of AIDS, of malaria, of hunger and of heart disease.  But those don’t leave millions of people frantically trying to get through to their loved ones by phone, cell phone, email or IM, looking for reassurance that they’re ok.  Those don’t leave millions of people saying "I was just there last Tuesday" or contemplating whether the shoes they wear for commuting are suitable for climbing through darkened tunnels. 

My thoughts and prayers tonight are with everyone affected by the bombings, whether they are keeping vigil in a burn ward, or sitting in their office and crying as they read the headlines, or checking their baby’s breathing one more time, or waking up from a dream of planes crashing on a beautiful September morning. 

***

The Post has an article about camera phone pictures of the attacks, with a few selected images.  I also like the unedited selection offered by the 7/7 Community on Flickr.

Quick, what countries would CAFTA create a free trade agreement with?  I can’t tell you either without looking it up.*  I know the legislation for this passed the Senate last week and will be taken up by the House sometime this month, but that’s about it.  For a fairly significant piece of legislation, it’s been pretty much invisible from the public political discussion, at least from where I sit.  It’s a perfect example of the phenomenon discussed in this week’s CQ cover story (login required) — an issue that is of critical importance to interest groups, and of little interest to the vast majority of Americans.

I tend to fall in the squishy middle on free-trade.   Fundamentally, I don’t think it’s either feasible or desirable to slam the door on globalization.  Free-trade agreements matter a lot on the margins, but aren’t going to affect the major overall trends; for example, whether or not we pass free trade agreements, there’s not going to be a textile industry in the US.  I accept the argument that trade promotes overall growth — but there are clearly winners and losers, and I’m much more inclined to worry about those distributional impacts, which mainstream economists often airily dismiss as "short-term transitional issues."  But I also don’t think it makes programatic sense (v. political sense) to set up special programs for workers dislocated by free trade as opposed to workers who are unemployed for any other reason.

One of the ways that I figure out where I stand on legislation when I don’t have the time or interest to delve into the details is to look at who is supporting it and opposing it.  (This method isn’t perfect — even Rick Santorum supports some legislation that I like — but it works reasonably well most of the time.)   Probably the best thing that can be said for CAFTA is that it makes the US sugar cartel scream — and anything that pisses them off can’t be entirely bad.  Unions despise CAFTA, of course; unions have worried about free trade displacing jobs at least as far back as the early 19th century. (I wrote my undergraduate thesis about two 19th century labor activists, and it was amazing how modern their concerns sounded.) 

I hadn’t realized until I read this article in today’s Washington Post how partisan of an issue CAFTA has become — they predict that it will get less than 10 Democratic votes in the House, versus the 102 votes that NAFTA got 12 years ago.  There are a lot of historically free-trade Democrats who are opposing it because it has even less in the way of worker protections than past free-trade agreements and because the Bush Administration cut them out of the negotiations completely, making it a "take it or leave it" deal.  At the same time, some Democratic leaders whom I respect — including Jimmy Carter, Donna Shalala, and Henry Cisneros — are supporting it.

*Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras and Nicaragua.