2009-02-20, 1:19 a.m.: From the 'dead in the water' pile of poems: ARS POETICA REGRETICA
[Tennis with the net down] What�s the use, I keep tripping over my own fucking feet [Take this song and shove it]
A mouthful of air, a slug of whiskey, and thou with the best blurbs of the season [Original unfaithful to the translation]
You took me to the turnout I�d never noticed, killed the engine And we sat not quite counting the stars over Pikes Peak, trinkets wrested from solar systems deleted when we were no-name atoms
0 comments
2009-01-24, 9:17 a.m.:
In a developmentally appropriate classroom, children are busy taking care of plants and animals, experimenting with sand and water, drawing and painting, listening to songs and stories, and engaging in dramatic play. It is hard to believe that these young children learn more from work sheets than they do from engaging in these age-appropriate activities.
From this article 3 comments
2009-01-22, 11:58 a.m.:
�The school system that we have now was invented in the late 19th century and had very explicit models: factories, railroads and the army,� [Dr. Ron] Glass [a philosopher and an associate professor in UCSC�s education department] said. �So they took features from each of those areas and created a school system. The school was designed to basically rank and sort people into the economic, social, ideological order.�
But the 21st century is a very different time than the Industrial Revolution, with few remaining factories.
�Before there was all this standardized curriculum and testing � all that began in the late 19th century � there was no such thing as school failure,� Glass said. �People just went to school or they didn�t.�
Now that the curriculum has become more rigid, it has begun to create problems. Glass said, �It�s the system that produces winners, losers, those who pass, those who fail, those who count as somebody and those who count as nobody.�
Believe it or not, I am thinking of pulling Atticus out of public school and teaching him myself. 5 comments
2009-01-19, 10:23 p.m.: A little George R.R. Martin (to refresh my memory during the endless wintry wait for A Dance of Dragons), a little Shropshire Lad, a little hangin' with my youngest boy, who told me upon going to bed that I was his friend and that I was 'always nice.' And I tried to put all other thoughts out of my head. And Holly called and Molly wrote a note. And my kitchen is clean. And I pored over the portraits of Obama's people (in the NYT Magazine) and laughed because a friend had written (about this photo spread): How are all these children going to run the country? And the snow melted today, as fast as it ever does. So there will be no going to lie down there to get nibbled on by mountain lions. And a tiny smidge of the Georgiana book. And the rest of everything at bay. There was one wonderful part of the weekend. That, within a 24-hour span, I managed to combine the watching of the following two movies: Hotel for Dogs and Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters. I am truly well rounded. Mishima does not make me cry (he baffles me just as his characters do, which is part of the fascination), but I must confess that I cried no fewer than three times during Hotel for Dogs. That is just too sentimental, no doubt about it. 0 comments
2009-01-19, 8:19 a.m.: It was a bad weekend. I was wrestling with the devil the entire time. And I thought way too much about just going out and laying me down in the snow. 3 comments
< before this * after this >
|