A new report confirms what every reasonable-minded person already knows: the “war’ on drugs has failed in a spectacular fashion. Here’s the article discussing the report’s findings, which includes some prominent Republicans, or at least they worked for a Republican administration: http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2011/06/02/136880528/global-war-on-drugs-has-failed-former-world-leaders-say
Sometimes the notion of legalization of marijuana comes up in class. Students often argue that it should be legal. Hardly anyone takes the other side; in fact I recall only one ever taking that side. Curiously, I will ask the class if they know someone who has smoked marijuana. In every class, most, say over 90%, and 100% in some classes, confirm that they know someone who has smoked marijuana. Then I ask if they think these folks are criminals that should be thrown in jail. No one ever thinks that smoking a joint or two should lead to prison-time. The idea seems almost ludicrous, absurd when I pose it. And indeed, it is.
The students are well ahead of the government’s troglodyte-minded perspective. Not only the students, but many people, the regular folks, are far more sophisticated and reasonable about this issue and incline toward legalization. After all consider how many states have approved legalizing medical marijuana in direct conflict with the federal government: sixteen plus the District of Columbia. The government classifies Mary Jane as a schedule one drug meaning that:
(A) The drug or other substance has high potential for abuse. (Umm, doesn’t alcohol and cigarettes meet this criterion?)
(B) The drug or other substance has no currently accepted medical use in treatment in the United States. (Not according to several States and many studies.)
(C) There is a lack of accepted safety for use of the drug or other substance under medical supervision. (This is because it isn't legal.)
Of course, the discussion about legalizing marijuana for medical use is not the same thing as legalizing it for recreational use, but it does suggest an entirely different attitude about the drug. There are no efforts to legalize cocaine, another schedule one drug, for medical use as far as I know. And I do not see a war on, say, “valium,” a medical-prescribed drug. The country is in a weird place about this. Can the tide be turning?
Of course, there is virtually no good reason to maintain marijuana’s illegality. Many of the supposed ills it causes have been refuted. The most pernicious is the idea that marijuana is a gateway drug. This connection is spurious. For example, how many meth, cocaine, or heroin addicts have tried alcohol or smoked cigarettes? Many, most, all? Most reasonable folks do not automatically arrive at the conclusion that Marlboro Lights or Smithwicks leads to meth use. Perhaps it sounds ridiculous to conclude that—a post hoc fallacy—and you’d be correct. So why is cannabis lumped in with other “hard” drugs?
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
The condescension of “think about it.”
The other day I posted something on my facebook and though I said I was joking about the post, I received a comment from, I assume a self-appointed conscious facebook policeman, who after he finished his comment, invite me to “think about it.” As though the comment in itself defied conventional thinking and would elude my intellectual comprehension without a more contemplative consideration. As if it were Descartes or Nietzche. The ostentatious and obvious comment was not all that insightful and did not demand more than a cursory read. As I pointed out I was joking and indicated so, but some don’t get jokes and feel compelled to comment unnecessarily.
But as I did post the comment publicly, I suppose I can’t get too bent over about lame response—except the stupid condescension with the “think about it” comment. That is what bothered me. Think about what, I thought. I did for second and responded. There was not much to considered, but why did he assume that his comment was complex? The self-righteous intellectual superiority did not settle well with me. I think, therefore I am irritated. Well, a variation on Descartes but it’s the idea of it all.
So, then, let’s hold off with the “think about it” stuff for awhile, unless, a comment absolutely demands it. I mean really demands it. Like, for example, what is the point of working—think about it. Or, what is the point of Dancing with the Starts—think about it. Or what is the point of pineapple on pizza? (Alliteration rules.) Or what is the point of alliteration and what does it rule—think about it.
Think about this. Why do people think they need to say “think about it?” Stupid is as stupid does, that’s what I think—think about it.
But as I did post the comment publicly, I suppose I can’t get too bent over about lame response—except the stupid condescension with the “think about it” comment. That is what bothered me. Think about what, I thought. I did for second and responded. There was not much to considered, but why did he assume that his comment was complex? The self-righteous intellectual superiority did not settle well with me. I think, therefore I am irritated. Well, a variation on Descartes but it’s the idea of it all.
So, then, let’s hold off with the “think about it” stuff for awhile, unless, a comment absolutely demands it. I mean really demands it. Like, for example, what is the point of working—think about it. Or, what is the point of Dancing with the Starts—think about it. Or what is the point of pineapple on pizza? (Alliteration rules.) Or what is the point of alliteration and what does it rule—think about it.
Think about this. Why do people think they need to say “think about it?” Stupid is as stupid does, that’s what I think—think about it.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
The primative sacrifice is alive and well. Hurray for progress
The discussions of appeasing the “budget” remind me of primitive cultures who engaged in human sacrifice. That seems to be what is happening around the country. The god in this case is something called the “budget,” and it needs to be appeased. It must find equilibrium. Indeed, the “budget,” and let’s say this is like Poseidon to Zeus—Zeus, being the ultimate God, the ultimate “god” here is this thing called capitalism, demands sacrifices. However, in this situation no one is killed right away. Instead, it’s a different kind of death altogether, the kind that’s slow, humiliating and entirely preventable.
The sacrificed are the many working people, who are slowly being broken down financially. Their ability to support themselves is of no consequence. They must sacrifice, and so what if they are hampered finically, the budget gods demand it. Though these sacrifices are not connected to one’s virginity; rather it stems from the idea that they should be able to make a decent wage. How dare they.
The richest 1 percent control 90 percent of the wealth in this country. They are also gods, or more like royalty. The notion that they might “sacrifice,” though “sacrifice” hardly applies to these folks, is summarily dismissed and apparently will not appease the ”budget” gods. No, they need another corporate jet or yacht to convey them about the global. The “budget” believes this is not a fair thing to ask these folks to sacrifice; it must be those making 40,000, 50,000 or even 60,000 a year. They must sacrifice.
When I hear the purveyors of appeasement say “redistribution of the wealth” is a bad idea, I say, huh? Allowing people to have the ability to support themselves is a bad idea. Really? Asking the godly rich to pony up more of their supposedly hard-earned money (another entirely bogus and inaccurate phrase) to pay more to help appease the budget god somehow is evil and anti-American. Lord it is socialism. How evil, though people believe in the ideals of social; indeed, these are the very concepts that allowed us to flourish as a species. But none of that should be considered. Perspective, logic and decency are not terms to consider when discussing appeasing the budget gods.
Have you ever felt like you just don’t understand? I am sure that there were a few people who thought, “Throwing a virgin into a volcano is a shittty idea, that there must be a better way.” I no doubt would have been one of those people entirely uncomfortable with sacrificing the innocent to appease a mythical entity.
The sacrificed are the many working people, who are slowly being broken down financially. Their ability to support themselves is of no consequence. They must sacrifice, and so what if they are hampered finically, the budget gods demand it. Though these sacrifices are not connected to one’s virginity; rather it stems from the idea that they should be able to make a decent wage. How dare they.
The richest 1 percent control 90 percent of the wealth in this country. They are also gods, or more like royalty. The notion that they might “sacrifice,” though “sacrifice” hardly applies to these folks, is summarily dismissed and apparently will not appease the ”budget” gods. No, they need another corporate jet or yacht to convey them about the global. The “budget” believes this is not a fair thing to ask these folks to sacrifice; it must be those making 40,000, 50,000 or even 60,000 a year. They must sacrifice.
When I hear the purveyors of appeasement say “redistribution of the wealth” is a bad idea, I say, huh? Allowing people to have the ability to support themselves is a bad idea. Really? Asking the godly rich to pony up more of their supposedly hard-earned money (another entirely bogus and inaccurate phrase) to pay more to help appease the budget god somehow is evil and anti-American. Lord it is socialism. How evil, though people believe in the ideals of social; indeed, these are the very concepts that allowed us to flourish as a species. But none of that should be considered. Perspective, logic and decency are not terms to consider when discussing appeasing the budget gods.
Have you ever felt like you just don’t understand? I am sure that there were a few people who thought, “Throwing a virgin into a volcano is a shittty idea, that there must be a better way.” I no doubt would have been one of those people entirely uncomfortable with sacrificing the innocent to appease a mythical entity.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Why NV Hates Education
In today's paper, there is an excellent article which discusses education and its connection to job creation. The article by Brian Greenspun can be read by following this link http://www.lasvegassun.com/news/2011/feb/13/status-quo-isnt-good-enough-anymore/
Essentially, he reminds what we already know: education leads to business creation and jobs. Sandoval, however, fails to understand this, as by the way, does the majority of myopically strained Republicans. So, then, antithetical to job creation is cutting education funding. Interesting, the only thing the conservatives can consider for balancing the budget is cutting the thing that will create jobs and, oh yeah, generate more tax revenue.
Stupid is a stupid does. Nevada ranks at the bottom of money spent to educate its citizens by a huge margin and the thinking is to cut more spending from education? This makes no sense, unless, one has an interest in maintaining an uneducated workforce. Perhaps, it not quite that nefarious, as this implies the ability to think and plan--I see no evidence of that coming from the Sandoval regime. But, then again.
Being an educator in a state that, at least from the elected leaders, places no value on his efforts is sad and pathetic. Welcome to Fabulous Vegas where we like our citizens uniformed, uneducated and unemployed. Hurray, baby needs a new pair of shoes: give me a seven. That's the only way to make it--sure luck.
Essentially, he reminds what we already know: education leads to business creation and jobs. Sandoval, however, fails to understand this, as by the way, does the majority of myopically strained Republicans. So, then, antithetical to job creation is cutting education funding. Interesting, the only thing the conservatives can consider for balancing the budget is cutting the thing that will create jobs and, oh yeah, generate more tax revenue.
Stupid is a stupid does. Nevada ranks at the bottom of money spent to educate its citizens by a huge margin and the thinking is to cut more spending from education? This makes no sense, unless, one has an interest in maintaining an uneducated workforce. Perhaps, it not quite that nefarious, as this implies the ability to think and plan--I see no evidence of that coming from the Sandoval regime. But, then again.
Being an educator in a state that, at least from the elected leaders, places no value on his efforts is sad and pathetic. Welcome to Fabulous Vegas where we like our citizens uniformed, uneducated and unemployed. Hurray, baby needs a new pair of shoes: give me a seven. That's the only way to make it--sure luck.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
A Student's Name Is Not Mine
This may be the best example of student ineptitude that I can provide. Students submit their papers online, and because I have to download them, I prefer that they save them a certain way. It simply saves me some time. If the papers are not all saved the same way, chaos ensues, as when I return the papers, I am not sure whose paper’s whose. So in order to save time, and not have to re-save them in the manner that is uniform, I had a rather minor, but significant thought: why not ask the students to save it the way I want? Yes, brilliant idea.
So even if only, say, 75% of the students saved the documents the way I ask, it would still save me time. (As all teachers surely understand, one realizes that no matter how clearly, how thoroughly, or how often one presents information, information that requires no thought at all, some students inexplicably fail to follow through—attrition, as it were). So then I supplied instructions as to the manner I want the documents saved. It reads this way on my syllabus:
* Post your outline and paragraphs as a single document and attachment. Use you first initial, period, last name, period and week. For example r.peltier.wk2.
You see I supplied an example using my name. I thought this would be helpful—for one it was not. This apparently confused a student, for, I swear, I received a paper saved r.peltier.wk2. I did not write this paper, I assure you—instead I evaluate them.
This is not a freshman, but rather an adult student. Well, that’s a bit inaccurate as technically the vast majority of college students are “adults.” But this is a non-traditional, a little older than 18ish age, where new concepts, ideas and commonsense are often in short supply. What, I honestly wonder, was the student thinking when she read the instructions? That I wanted every document saved with my name? Though I often have a burdensome ego, it is hardly that large. Seriously, the lack of common sense makes me wonder how people make it through life without a helmet or training wheels for that matter. Perhaps, and I wish I had the balls to do this, I should simply fail the assignment because she failed to follow through with the instructions. Indeed, that would save me some time, which you might recall was the reason for the instructions in the first place.
So even if only, say, 75% of the students saved the documents the way I ask, it would still save me time. (As all teachers surely understand, one realizes that no matter how clearly, how thoroughly, or how often one presents information, information that requires no thought at all, some students inexplicably fail to follow through—attrition, as it were). So then I supplied instructions as to the manner I want the documents saved. It reads this way on my syllabus:
* Post your outline and paragraphs as a single document and attachment. Use you first initial, period, last name, period and week. For example r.peltier.wk2.
You see I supplied an example using my name. I thought this would be helpful—for one it was not. This apparently confused a student, for, I swear, I received a paper saved r.peltier.wk2. I did not write this paper, I assure you—instead I evaluate them.
This is not a freshman, but rather an adult student. Well, that’s a bit inaccurate as technically the vast majority of college students are “adults.” But this is a non-traditional, a little older than 18ish age, where new concepts, ideas and commonsense are often in short supply. What, I honestly wonder, was the student thinking when she read the instructions? That I wanted every document saved with my name? Though I often have a burdensome ego, it is hardly that large. Seriously, the lack of common sense makes me wonder how people make it through life without a helmet or training wheels for that matter. Perhaps, and I wish I had the balls to do this, I should simply fail the assignment because she failed to follow through with the instructions. Indeed, that would save me some time, which you might recall was the reason for the instructions in the first place.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
The Fresh Wait
The other day I came upon my 10 am class. Ten is a little early, so I think mine is the first class of the day in that room. I round the corner and see my students, those who arrived on-time that is, milling about outside the classroom. This is unusual. Most students enter the room and grab a seat and patiently text their friends waiting for the professor to arrive. So I saw the students standing outside the classroom and thought, "Shit, the room door is locked."
Professors do not have keys to the rooms. Most have a Marlok card which provides entry into “tech” rooms; those with overhead projectors and computers. This classroom is not one of those. So I start thinking whom do I call, but then I remembered that these students were freshmen.
So I approached the darkened classroom and opened the unlocked door and invited my students in. The first student had arrived to find a darkened classroom and assumed it was locked. The next one assumed the first one knew that they room was locked. And on and one went this, until I arrived. Replete with experience and education, I first tried to open the door before assuming it was locked.
I almost certainly can guarantee that had my class been an upper division course, in other words with sophomores, juniors, and/or seniors, they would have tried the door first. But that’s what makes freshman so adorable sometimes. They can be like little puppies; awkward and clumsy, but eager and alacritous and not always thinking before acting.
Professors do not have keys to the rooms. Most have a Marlok card which provides entry into “tech” rooms; those with overhead projectors and computers. This classroom is not one of those. So I start thinking whom do I call, but then I remembered that these students were freshmen.
So I approached the darkened classroom and opened the unlocked door and invited my students in. The first student had arrived to find a darkened classroom and assumed it was locked. The next one assumed the first one knew that they room was locked. And on and one went this, until I arrived. Replete with experience and education, I first tried to open the door before assuming it was locked.
I almost certainly can guarantee that had my class been an upper division course, in other words with sophomores, juniors, and/or seniors, they would have tried the door first. But that’s what makes freshman so adorable sometimes. They can be like little puppies; awkward and clumsy, but eager and alacritous and not always thinking before acting.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Capricorn No More. I am Sagittarius.
So I have been living a lie. Granted it was hardly my own doing. Today, the day I was forced into this world against my will, I found out that I am longer a Capricorn. Rather, I am a Sagittarius. The shock of this realization is intense. Suddenly, my identity has been altered. I no longer get along with well with Virgos and Libras. I wonder what my last girlfriend’s sign was. I am sure this factors into the break-up somehow. As a Sagittarius, my ideal sign partner (sounds like a deaf date) is Aries. Aries, according the internets, are symbolized by the ram. The ram has come to represent male fertility, aggression, and courage. This makes it seems as though I might be gay. It says nothing of feminine fecundity, sympathy and compassion. Come to think of it, I have always felt a little off.
As a Capricorn, my animal counter-part is a goat. But now as a Sagittarius, I am the Archer—half-man; half-horse. That’s way better. Capricorns are tenacious, conservative, resourceful, disciplined, wise, ambitious, prudent, and constant. These adjectives do not define me. I am not wise or ambitious. I sat on my fat ass all break. I barely finished one book—a book that was an easy read, to boot. Conservative? No, I’m a liberal. Tenacious? If there’s a long line at the drive-thru, I say fuck this and drive away, hungry. Wise? I can’t even do geometry. What is an obtuse angle? Sounds like an angle that is being a dick and just won't express exactly what it is. Angles are stupid, anyway.
So all along, I was trapped in the wrong sign’s body. Like a woman trapped in a man’s body. And now that I have had my figurative astrology re-assignment surgery—thanks to the science of those astrologers—I can now feel at one with myself. As a Sagittarius, I am optimistic, restless, enthusiastic, adventurous, honest, irresponsible, outspoken, and independent.
My friends often tell me how optimistic I am. For example, someone the other day asked me about God. I said what I believed: that there is no God or after life; the only thing that is real is the now, the right now. Life is a second-to-second existence with no afterlife. When we die, there’s nothing. So you see how truly optimistic I really am. Restless? I have restless-foot syndrome. Enthusiastic? Of course. I am most enthusiastic watching my beloved Lions play football. For example, if they have a big lead, say 6 points, and the other team has the ball with only one minute to play, I am very enthusiastic about their chances of giving up the late score and losing the game.
It is quite a relief to finally understand what I am. I am a Sagittarius. That sounds so sweet.
As a Capricorn, my animal counter-part is a goat. But now as a Sagittarius, I am the Archer—half-man; half-horse. That’s way better. Capricorns are tenacious, conservative, resourceful, disciplined, wise, ambitious, prudent, and constant. These adjectives do not define me. I am not wise or ambitious. I sat on my fat ass all break. I barely finished one book—a book that was an easy read, to boot. Conservative? No, I’m a liberal. Tenacious? If there’s a long line at the drive-thru, I say fuck this and drive away, hungry. Wise? I can’t even do geometry. What is an obtuse angle? Sounds like an angle that is being a dick and just won't express exactly what it is. Angles are stupid, anyway.
So all along, I was trapped in the wrong sign’s body. Like a woman trapped in a man’s body. And now that I have had my figurative astrology re-assignment surgery—thanks to the science of those astrologers—I can now feel at one with myself. As a Sagittarius, I am optimistic, restless, enthusiastic, adventurous, honest, irresponsible, outspoken, and independent.
My friends often tell me how optimistic I am. For example, someone the other day asked me about God. I said what I believed: that there is no God or after life; the only thing that is real is the now, the right now. Life is a second-to-second existence with no afterlife. When we die, there’s nothing. So you see how truly optimistic I really am. Restless? I have restless-foot syndrome. Enthusiastic? Of course. I am most enthusiastic watching my beloved Lions play football. For example, if they have a big lead, say 6 points, and the other team has the ball with only one minute to play, I am very enthusiastic about their chances of giving up the late score and losing the game.
It is quite a relief to finally understand what I am. I am a Sagittarius. That sounds so sweet.
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