Another Impossible Profession

Here I am gearing up for another year of teaching writing at UCSB. I think this will be year 30.

In 1980, I finished my dissertation, “Romantic Thought: Education and Alienation.”

That could be the title of my autobiography as a teacher. Looking back I see how much the reading I did for the dissertation has informed my thinking about teaching and education.
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I continue to think about it and recently came across the following by Carl Rogers from an essay, “Freedom to Learn.”

a) My experience is that I cannot teach another person how to teach. To attempt it is for me, in the long run, futile.

b) It seems to me that anything that can be taught to another is relatively inconsequential and has little or no significant influence on behavior.

c) I realize increasingly that I am only interested in learnings which significantly influence behavior.

d) I have come to feel that the only learning which significantly influence behavior is self-discovered, self-appropriated learning.

e) Such self-discovered learning, truth that has been personally appropriated and assimilated in experience, cannot be directly communicated to another.

f) As a consequence of the above, I realize that I have lost interest in being a teacher

That about sums it up, for me too, though I don’t think I have completely lost interest in being a teacher or at least in trying to figure out what one might be.

Meanwhile, T. Adorno speaks of the teacher as the executioner and school as the scene of executions.

Rubber Soul

Rubber Soul will always be, for me, my sophomore year (1965-66) in college album. After that, well, the Doors I guess for junior year, and Hendrix for senior year, 1968. rubbersoul.jpg

I held onto the vinyl for years, and lost it. Then I had a cassette version, and later the CD.

Music is tied to memory. Listening to Rubber Soul was always a bit hard; it was infused with the conflicts, confusions, vague longings, anxieties, and desires of that particular year. When I listen I can still feel some of the emotions in my chest.

That was the year I started smoking.

I listened to it so many times, just as one track was ending, the other would start up in my head, and, then, sure enough, the next song would start.

Maybe that’s why I don’t considered the digital version or remastered digital version of Rubber Soul, the real Rubber Soul.

The Real Rubber Soul was the American release. The American release started with:

I have seen a face, I can’t forget the time or place when we just met she’s just the girl for me and I want all the world to see we’ve met.

The British release starts with “Drive My Car” of all things, and doesn’t even include anywhere on it “Face.”

So these digital versions are frustrating…In my mind, I hear the next song starting but the next song turns out not to be the song I expected.

Here are the tracks on the American version

:I’ve Just Seen a Face”
Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)
You Won’t See Me
Think for Yourself” (Harrison)
The Word
Michelle
It’s Only Love
Girl
I’m Looking Through You
In My Life
Wait
Run for Your Life

You could say these are just silly love songs of the kind Lennon later excoriated, but they’re not. They’re much darker and ambiguous than, say, “I Wanna Hold Your Hand,” and more complex, even occasionally hostile (Think for Yourself). The songs are even in their texture on the American release. As far as I am concerned “Drive My Car” doesn’t fit that texture. Then there are the harmonies and Lennon’s inspired inhale on Girl.

The only song I just can’t stand is Michelle.

I would put it right up there. One or two in the Beatle collection. And in any case, it will always be the Number 1 Album of my sophomore year in college.

Now if they would only re-release it in the American version. 

4.0 ?

I have trying to figure out for some time how it was possible for students entering UCSB to average a 4.0 GPA or better.

Today I talked with a guy whose daughter is just finishing high school.

Turns out that in courses called Advanced Placement the grade scale does not run: A = 4; B = 3; C = 2 and so on. That’s the old 4 point scale, the one I grew up with.

No, they use a 5 point scale because the AP classes are supposedly so much tougher than regular courses of the same kind that it was considered “unfair” that an AP “A” should be equal to an “A” for the non-AP course.

Thus in an AP course, an A = 5; B = 4; C = 3 and so on.

OK…now I get it, why so many students enter with a 4.O; they all take AP courses and plenty of them.

I can’t say how this pisses me off.

Seems to me the educational system is doing the same thing as the insurance companies; they are cherry picking the best and leaving the rest to rot.

This strikes me as institutionalized elitism and inequality.

The guy said his daughter took a “regular” chemistry class and got an A; it was the easiest class she ever took, he said.

Just what kind of education are the non-AP students getting?

I am sure there’s more to this than meets my casual glance. I am probably over-reacting.

Still the more I learn…the less I want to know. 

The Fab 4

Too many flashbacks lately; not exactly Wordworth’s spots of time, more like pits of time where I find myself sliding back to one of those I-remember-where-I-was-on that-day-moments.

For example, there’s been a good bit of news lately–what with the release of their version of Guitar Hero and their remastered tapes–of the Beatles, a band that broke up over 40 years ago.

And all of a sudden I remembered that day back in 1964, when I was a senior in Mr. Moore’s English class.

But I wrote about this in another entry on this blog, giving me the occasion to quote myself as follows:

Mr. Moore’s class also furnished me one of the few high school moments that I remember with any warmth. One Monday morning he turned to us and said, “And just who the heck are these Beatles.” This was in many ways an unprecedented moment. I don’t recollect a teacher ever having asked his students a real question, who asked it moreover in a spirit of curiosity and out of a desire to learn something about the lives of his students. We sat more or less dumbfounded. I could see he was going to let the question drop, but since it was my job in that class to answer all questions nobody else would or could, I raised my hand and said, “The best rock and roll band ever.”

I remember having paused for dramatic effect between “the best rock and roll band” and “ever.”

Over the years I have have more than once questioned that “ever,” but listening more to them again lately, I am inclined to think that I was more right than wrong back in 1964. 

Comment Function

I think the comment function for this blog is now functioning.

Should you feel moved to make a comment.

Click here to go to nicktingle.net

Just click on comment at the top of the particular entry.

A comment box should then open.

Type in your name (doesn’t have to be all of it).

Followed by a valid email address.

If you want you can click on “save this information” and the next time you wish to comment your name and email address will automatically appear.

Should you feel so moved, send me a comment on this entry so I can tell if the comment function is functioning.

T

Beach Walk…Finally

Carol and I have kept to our thirty to forty minute walk-talk each day, but we didn’t make it clear out to the ocean once this summer.

Lack of energy, maybe; and Carol’s knees get hurting if she has to walk a steep incline and there are a few of those out to the bluffs.

But Labor Day, we cut across the golf course (though we had been previously kicked off for trespassing) and took a gentle incline over towards the Coal Oil Point Slough.

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Not much water…but it’s early September.

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Birdies.

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As previously noted: not much water (looking inland).
 

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Looking back towards the ocean.

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Where we came from.

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Where we were going…

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What we saw.

75 degrees; winds 8 mph WSW

Blog Migration

I am currently attempting to “migrate” my blog from one host to another. That means also that I have had to create a new domain name.

This migrating stuff has turned out to be a challenge, especially for someone like me who is concentration impaired.

Most importantly, right now, “And He Not Busy Being Born” is hosted or in the parlance “parked” at Yahoo small business. And it’s URL is nicktingle.com.

I have rebuild “And He Not Bush Being Born” and parked it at another host, SureSupport, with the URL of nicktingle.net.

Eventually I hope to close down the Yahoo installation completely, and move the domain, “nicktingle.com” over to Sure Support.

I don’t know why I am doing this exactly. Maybe I just wanted a change. I think mostly I was frustrated at Yahoo’s unwillingness to upgrade “Movable Type,” the program that actually builds the blog from 3.2 to 4.2. I think 4.2 is better. It offers more features, but it will take me a while to figure out how to personalize my new page so it doesn’t look so machined. That requires getting into something called CSS, which I know little about.

I have to move files too from the one host to the other and that will take a bit of time too.

So I may be at this project off and on over the next six months or so.

In the meantime, if you are at “nicktingle.com” please click here: “nicktingle.net” and if you have opinions on the new page, let me know. 

Ready or Not

Someone on TV said that Senator Kennedy, in his final days, was, in the common phrase "ready to go."

I wonder what that feels like–being ready to go–or even what it means exactly.

Resolved? Welcoming with open arms?

Or just practically speaking, "ready," as in having put things in order, tied up loose ends, made the necessary preparations.

Maybe one day I will know what that feels like, but, really, when a person’s time comes, I think, more than likely, it’s "ready or not."

District 9

 Went to a matinee, in a really lousy mood with a clump of anxiety in my chest, and feeling slightly sick to my stomach, but still half way through I had the same feeling with "District 9" that I had when I first saw "Tremors (1990)."

Bingo. "Instant Classic."

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That thing will have a prolonged after life on cable. People will just want to see it again and again, for the over all story and the little bits.

Shartol Copley turns in a masterful performance, on par, almost, with the immortal Jeffrey Combs in "Re-animator (1985)." Both play rollicking good versions of the "worm turns." Combs throughout "Re-animator" reacts to the gore and mayhem he produces like a man utterly consumed with the thought that he might at any moment die of constipation.

Combs is doing a one-person show now as Edgar Allen Poe. Seems like a good fit. The show concludes with a recitation of "The Raven." I can just see Combs banging his head on the floor and screaming that last "Nevermore!" 

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!
 
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