Two posts ago I mentioned an insanely boring class in which we have to write papers and present them. And my desire to liven up the class by talking about something sexy like prostitution or opium. But sadly everyone is against me.

The only requirement for the research was that it had to do with the Chinese Qing dynasty. Which should be super easy since that was from 1644-1911. A huge swath of time in which I whores should figure prominently.

But no.


No.


I now bemoan the state of whore scholarship. There is nothing written about it in this time period. Nothing. Zilch. Damn it! What the hell are you scholars working on? Oh ya, exciting crap like transforming local economies if fishing villages. Wow. Do you talk about that stuff at parties? The only thing fishy I want to hear about is whore vag!

So instead I am writing about the bubonic plague in southern China in the late 19th century.... ya, disease is kind of cool. But the only reason I picked it is because that is how I feel. I feel like I am infected with a dull malaise that will slowly drag me to an untimely death. A death I try to imagine as a great release during the waste of a class.

So come on academics of the world! Tell me about Manchu brothels!

Here is a video about an unbelievable large infestation of mice. It is creepy.

In high school, I was king dork of nerd mountain

You see, not having a social life, not touching vice, and having the social skills of a lifeless golem I could devote considerable time of the best years of my life to the accumulation of useless trivia. History was one such area where I could be especially insufferable. Ask (e:Jim) who was forced to sit through the movie 300 while I pointed historical inaccuracies both major and dully minor.

The first teacher I had who appreciated me eccentricities was Mr.Mahar. He was so much more than a social studies teacher. He attended conferences. His name was attached to research he helped conduct. He had a sense of humor. In retrospect he used a lot of teaching methods that I really admire and plan to use myself. But most importantly, he drank like a fish.

Teachers exist in a moral limbo. They are adults but are expected to be saints because they are models for kids, where as parents can fuck up as much as they choose. This bothers me. Teachers see kids for 40 minutes, five days a week. And they are busy doing a thousand things you have no idea what sort of adult they are. Mr.Mahar was different. We all smelled the whiskey on his breath. We all knew what he put in his coffee. But the man was one hell of a teacher. He got his shit done and he was much better than all the sober ones.

Though I never will drink at work, or actually have a little habit to attend to, I would like to have my insufferable personality spill over. To be an eccentric coot not afraid to curse or shave on a regular basis but do one hell of a job. Darn it! If kids don't learn about Stalin's love of musical comedies who will? WHO WILL?

happy friday

My Thursday night class sucks.


It is indescribably bad! But just as Dante described the indescribable torments of hell (and the indescribably boring followups on purgatory and heaven) then so too must I!

It is on Chinese and Japanese modern history, from the 16th century to the present. The professor is a Chinese historian, and so he spends about 15 minutes of our 3 hour long class talking about Japan. Even our textbooks are weighted. Chinese history: 876 pages + 100 images and maps. Japanese history: 600, no images. I don't know why he tacked Japan on when he doesn't care.

A graduate history class works like this, usually. We all read a book. Then during class we discuss that book. The professor might guide our discussion along, but generally just keeps us on task. It is a great way to run a class.

This class works like this, we read, we get a five question quiz to see if we read, he summarizes what we read and then we look at holiday snaps he took last time he was in China. Fine in a 50 minute class, torture in a three hour class.

Well, we were informed today that he would no longer be lecturing to us. And that we would be presenting research papers we have been working on. Well, no one has started their paper since it is only needs one journal article source and should be 5-6 pages long.

So I decided I am responsible not only for my own amusement and sanity in that class, but am responsible for everyones'!

Right now I have a dozen articles on Prostitution, Opium, Homosexuality, everything. If I don't use the term "hot chinese ass fucking" at least twice in my presentation I am giving myself an F. There will be descriptions of various specialty blow jobs. There will be little boys bent over the Emperor's bed. And it wont be all talk! Oh no! We will have graphic images. Ming wall scrolls of anal penetration will adorn my presentation like cherubs.



There wont be a dry seat in the house!

I was listening to Sam Harris give a lecture yesterday.

It wasn't in person, he gave it at the Aspen Ideas festival and it was rebroadcast on Word for Word. You can listen to it here . If you don't know Sam Harris he is of the recent wave of published, vocal atheists. He is down with science but isn't as big an ass hole as Richard Dawkins
Also, he is also the hottest of the best selling atheists.



I would want to get drunk with Chris Hitchens, but I would want to get Sam Harris drunk. If you catch the drift. (sincere apologies to (e:Jim))


Anyway! Back on topic. In the lecture he said that god is primarily an author of books. That is, he chooses to speak to his creation not through TV spots or telemundo soaps; rather, god wrote the Hebrew bible, added the New testament bit, and then completed the trilogy with the Koran.

He said that science submits its material to peer-reviewed journals to weed out biased research. So, religious texts should do the same thing.

I had a good chuckle. Imagining Christ and Thor(see (e:drew)'s journal) browsing through Dianetics, suppressing a chuckle at each page turn.
"Hey Quetziquatil, you have to check this shit out! It is hilarious!"
"I can't guys, Dionysus is throwing up wine again. I have to mop the bathroom up."

So, I am not actually suggesting anything. Just giving you a little glimpse into the silliness which is getting me through my Thursday.

Oh! Here is an awesome They Might Be Giants video

I am SO excited!

Being a snooty New Yorker by proxy I love me some NY Times. Their web site has been the way of choice to read it for me. About four years ago they changed their site creating Times Select: a subscription service where you can get articles about certain subjects emailed to you, their op/ed pieces, and access to back issues going back to... when ever their content becomes public domain. The first two of those services were absolutely free before that, of course.

What would I do without my Nicholas Kristoph! Or my beloved queen of snark Maureen 'I should be writing for Designing Women but instead I am a journalist' Dowd. Tom Friedman leaves a bad taste in my mouth now a days, what with the whole Iraq War RULZ thingie. And nobody blows smoke up your ass like Frank Rich (who I guiltily enjoy).

Well, starting tomorrow (I believe) we will have access to the Op/Ed pages once more! Of course, in those four years I stopped reading traditional media and became hooked on the likes of Talking Points Memo and Daily Kos and it is sad watching great giants of journalism drag their neanderthal knuckles of paleo-journalism together towards extinction with dinosaur-blog newspapers.

But at least for a few weeks I can enjoy Dowd's tangy fluff!