A Tangled Affair

For the past couple of months a peculiar drama has been unfolding on an academic listserv to which I subscribe. On any given day, you are likely to receive at least 10-15 messages from people advertising jobs, posting CFPS for journals or conferences, posing pedagogical questions, etc. The list is ruled with a firm hand by a techie-type matriarch who lurks about making sure the topics and postings are confined to areas of teaching and NOT politics. Often times, people will stray off course, only to be publicly admonished for an "off topic" post. Should one accrue multiple warnings from the self described "nag," all privileges to list will be revoked. Personally, I think her rationale for keeping the listserv so narrowly focused is stupid. I don't think one can be a good teacher without understanding how one's pedagogy is influenced by politics and political discussions. But, I digress.

It would appear the nag has "left the building" as they say, because a troubling, yet fascinating, academic drama has been unfolding without a peep from our ever diligent list serve owner. The drama concerns a well known academic researcher (a mentor to a former "friend" (deep sarcasm here) of ours) and her involvement, er, "investigation" into a controversy surrounding the publication of a 2003 book by a researcher/scientist some have considered an unethical, hack, peddling in pseudo scientific theories re sexuality. The well known (and well respected--at least before this broke out) researcher has taken it upon herself to write a 60 page essay about the controversy--essentially determining that the while the science and research is shoddy, the attacks on this work by detractors, is far worse. Obviously, this essay is being read by many as an "apology" for the 2003 publication . . . drawing the ire of many, and refueling the controversy.

A few months ago a CFP was posted to the listserv for a panel critiquing both the 2003 monograph and the 2007 "investigation" by a grad student. Unfortunately, the author of the 2007 investigation is on the list and had a very public, meltdown. For the past several weeks she has written a torrent of hateful emails accusing these people (including the grad student) of attempts to "ruin" her reputation in the same manner they tried with the author of the 2003 study. Threats of lawsuits based on defamation of character have been made . . . all on this listserv! What would compel such an implosion? Isn't "critique" the heart of academic inquiry? Why the fuss? Why would a well known academic feel threatened by a conference session organized by a grad student?

More importantly, why am I so fucking absorbed into this drama?

Life in the academy is a tangled affair. It's also a very, very, small world. The researcher who is imploding on the list happens to be the mentor of a person that I had the unfortunate occasion to be "friends" with at my last institution. And, like mentor, like student, this "friend" exhibited the same type of arrogance and bullish behavior her mentor has been exhibiting on the list.

I've gotten some pleasure, as shameful as it is to admit, from all of this mess. I always wondered if there ever would be justice in the world . . . if people who really screwed people over would ever experience the pain and hurt they inflict on others (an eye for an eye? perhaps). This "friend" would use her association with her mentor as a trump card--a badge advertising how cool she was to be affiliated with such a "top notch" researcher in the field . . .and now, what must she be feeling as her mentor slowly goes down in flames, publicly humiliating herself in front of peers?

Schadenfreude? Absolutely.

End of the Beach Bum

I'm sipping on the last of my corona lite, winding down after a pretty chill vacation at home. i needed to leave the stress of publishing pressure, class preparation, fellowship applications, and all the other tedious aspects of my job. despite the beer intake, which seemed inevitable, i managed to stay on diet pretty well. i've subsisted on a steady diet of shellfish (lobster, blue crabs, rock shrimp) and fish (sea bass--i've felt guilty about this one, given how overfished it is these days, but i couldn't resist when i ate at one of the better chinese restaurants in altamonte, fl: eastern pearl). so, i figure indulging in my love of beer should be ok. plus, i simply hate red wine in 88 degree heat. fuck diet. enjoy vacation.

While here, I acquired some pretty cool reading material: Naomi Klein's *Shock Doctrine* and Susan Faludi's *Terror Dream*. The latter I'm reading for both an online reading discussion to take place on Nov. 19 over at Pandagon and for my upcoming women and war class . . . I think Faludi is doing some interesting stuff that might resonate with this generation. And, Klein's book has been heralded since it was published . . .though the media (mainstream that is) has pretty much ignored her. What else is new?

I take off from the 'house of the mouse' at 6:00 pm, back to the cool, fall weather of upstate NY. It's been good. Hope to return soon.

F-L-O-R-I-D-A

October in Florida is surreal. It's mad hot in the day, with warm, humid breezes cooling everything down in the evening. There's no bugs. No hassles with skeeters. Just fresh, salty air that sticks with you the rest of the night -- gets in your clothes, your hair, your skin.

Driving North on US-1 from Titusville is a great way to see "old Florida." Live oaks with spanish moss, trailer parks, palm trees, alligator farms, flea markets, remains of former fruit stands bankrupted by one frost too many, and in the fall, an abundance of pumpkin patches! I've only been here for three days, but I've already lost track of time. I had totally forgotten it was Fall . . . where's the cider? The sweaters? The chill in the air?

New Smyrna is gearing up for Biketoberfest . . . just another reason to party around here. Tourism remains the only stable industry amidst a sea of foreclosure signs decorating the front of condominiums. Cranes hang like old skeletons, hovering above three stories of unfinished concrete blocks of tackiness--another development project gone belly up. Perhaps the silver lining in this dismal national economy can be found in Florida, where the boom of development is having to take a break . . . give the gators a rest, the egrets a place to hang, the turtles a chance to hatch, and the shoreline a mere moment to breathe. But only for a moment, I'm sure.

Taking US-1 from Ormond to Daytona will take you through the grittiness of my birthplace. The seedy hotels with neon palm trees flashing "vacancy" and "clean rooms," chicks hawking their wares in cut off shorts, emergency pregnancy centers (this was the actual name), cash checking businesses, krispy creme donuts, tobacco exotica (a favorite high school haunt), and good old, "bucks gun shop" complete with a picture of a .38 emblazoned on a big yellow sign. Slimy store fronts in run down strip malls advertise religion, jesus, and salvation. My favorite sign: 7 days without Church is a week without Jesus.

Guns, God, and Pink Flamingos. I love being home.

DEsperate Housewives Sucks. Click below to find out why.

Whether it's Mel Gibson going ballistic about Jews, Michael Richards hatin on blacks, or Rosie, dear Rosie, saying "ching chong", it all fucking sucks and hurts the communities targetted. Racism is virulent in the United States. I wonder if these fuck-wits at ABC know the colonial history between the US and the RP? Are they aware of the numerous treaties established to coerce med students in the RP to practice in primarily poor areas in the US? It all goes back to 1898 my friends . . .