Are Men Allowed to get Tagged?

My blog was recently tagged by my sister-in-law Adrienne. I'm not exactly sure what it means to have your blog "tagged," but from what I can tell it is kind of like being picked early to play dodge ball on the popular kids' team. As one who was usually picked last in gym class, I feel I should take my current "tagged" status as a good thing. However, I can't help but notice that a majority of those who play this game of blogtag are women. Does that mean that I have been picked last? In other words, now that all of the cool bloggerkids--i.e. the women--have been "tagged," are blogtaggers now turning to the dorks--i.e. menbloggers--as a last resort? I think so.

Which brings me to my next question: Are men even allowed to be tagged? Personally, I am already feeling that if I even humor my sister-in-law's request to share my "unspectacular" quirks," the very threads that bind the universe together will be compromised. I can't have the end of the universe on my conscience. After all, one of my biggest quirks is that I have an

IRRATIONALLY GUILTY CONSCIENCE.
For example, I sometimes feel that I have to eat every last particle of food on my plate. I don't feel this way, however, because I sympathize for those in Africa who go without food. Rather, I eat every last particle because I do not want to be the one responsible for preventing them (i,e, the food particles) from fulfilling the full measure of their creation. I mean, how would you feel if you were a grain of rice who waited all of your tiny rice life to be eaten, only to be tossed down the food disposal like some piece of stagnant leftover?

Well, now that I'm in the process of unlacing the universe, I might as well reveal my other quirks. Of course, my wife tells me that everything I do is a quirk. What might make a better post is a listing of everything I do that is normal.

Anyway, here is the rest of my list:

I CANNOT FINISH A JUG OF MILK.
Something about the last half cup of milk at the bottom of the milk jug disgusts me. I'd rather go without milk than drink the nasty stuff. Fortunately, Sarah is kind enough to drink it for me.

I READ SIGNS OUT LOUD WHILE I DRIVE
Whenever I am driving down the road, I catch myself reading aloud words and phrases from road signs and billboards--any kind of signage that lines the road. I started doing this on my mission as a way to practice reading Portuguese. Now I do it out of habit.

WHENEVER I CLIMB STEPS, I MENTALLY RECITE MY VOWELS
When I was a kid, I thought that I could climb steps faster if I recited my vowels at the same time. It turns out, however, that there is no connection between vowel recitation and step-climbing speed. Nevertheless, I still mentally recite my vowels whenever I climb steps.

I REMOVE THE DUST JACKET OF A BOOK BEFORE I READ IT
I don't think this is a quirk, but my wife says it is. I believe, however, that removing the dust jacket of a hard-bound book before reading it is not only common sense, it is normal.

I WALK AROUND WHEN I BRUSH MY TEETH
I can't brush my teeth and stand still, so I tend to stroll around the apartment while I brush. Apparently, I also pace around in circles for five minutes after I come home from work. I'm not sure how that is connected, though.

Well, it seems as if I have satisfied the demands of the tagging. I'm also supposed to tag more people, but since I was the last kid picked, I guess I don't have to. Shucks.

Also, I know I'm supposed to post the rules, but I figure you probably know them already.

An Epidemic of Excuses and No Dogs in Sight

Something must be going around the Cincinnati area. I've heard more excuses this past week from my students than ever before. It seems as if car accidents, car troubles, family deaths and sicknesses, hospitalizations, and computer crashes are following my students wherever they go. I am beginning to think that it is not safe to have me as a teacher.

Also, it was recently pointed out to me that dogs are no longer eating homework. Students today have a brand new dog: the flash drive! If they show up to class without their homework now, they simply state that the flash drive containing their work went through the wash, got smashed in their backpack, or (somehow) got pregnant.

What cracks me up most, though, about excuses is the presentation. Some students offer up an excuse and immediately you know its the only one in their repertoire--it comes out that easy, like an animal instinct. Other students take five to ten minutes to make their excuse. Usually, their excuses are prefaced with "I know this sounds like an excuse, but..." and concluded with a unsolicited recitation of their long (long) history of scholastic responsibility.

Of course, the worst kind of excuses are those that try to appeal to a teacher's sense of pity. These excuses are the classic sob stories, and they usually are made by the worst of student actors. It is no exaggeration to state that students who attempt the appeal to pity make soap opera actors and actresses look like true artists.

Anyway, the week isn't over and I expect a handful of excuses to come my way in the next twenty-four hours. If I hear a really good one, I'll pass it along.

One More for The Road: A Review

So far I've been reluctant to recommend a Cormac McCarthy novel to anyone wary of literary novels or violence. Well, that's changed. I recently finished The Road, his Pulitzer Prize winning 2006 novel about a father and son's struggle to survive after Earth has been largely destroyed by some unnamed disaster. I highly recommend this novel for any interested reader. Don't be put off by the fact that Oprah endorses it. Even she can't be wrong all of the time. 

In many ways, The Road is unlike any other McCarthy novel. It doesn't have a lot of violence, and when it does it isn't particularly gratuitous. Mostly, this novel just sets the reader on edge. You feel fear for the two main characters, who are travelling south for the winter through a territory overrun by band of cannibalistic marauders. Every time they investigate an abandoned home or opened a strange door, you wonder if it will be for the last time. 

My only problem with this novel was the ending. I wasn't sure I liked it at first--probably because it did not unfold the way I though it would. It is neither as violent as Blood Meridian nor as anticlimactic as No Country for Old Men. In fact, the ending is actually kind of inspiring. 

That's doesn't mean it has a happy ending, of course. That would have made the novel worthless. But it is the kind of ending that doesn't make you hate the world after you finish reading it. 

So, I'm still not sure if I like the ending of The Road. I wonder, for example, if McCarthy could have made his points more emphaticallyt if he had made the novel a full-fledged tragedy (catharsis and all). Ultimately, you'll have to form your own opinion of it. The more I think about the novel as a whole, though, the more I like it. 

But, as LeVar Burton would say, you don't have to take my word for it.  

The Thinking Man's Western: A Short Review

I recently finished reading Cormac McCarthy's masterpiece novel, Blood Meridian, or the Evening Redness in the West. It tells the story of a young man, called "the Kid," and his experiences riding with the Glanton Gang, a group of scalp-hunters that terrorized Mexico and the Southwest in the years following the Mexican War. 

While I liked this book quite a bit, I hesitate to recommend it to anyone who is not up to the task. Many of the passages in the book are difficult to read and somewhat inaccessible. In fact, I doubt I would have finished it had I not been listening to it on tape. Also, as the title indicates, the novel contains a lot of blood.  If violence isn't your thing, skip this novel.

But if you aren't put off by its style and content, Blood Meridian has a lot to offer. In many ways, the novel reminds me thematically of Flannery O'Connor's Wise Blood--especially near the end, when the Kid's inability to escape the Judge, the novel's chief antagonist, seems similar in nature to Hazel Motes's inability to escape the figure of Christ.

Unfortunately, I hear Hollywood is attempting to adapt this novel to film. Hollywood has never been very successful at adapting unadaptable novels, and this novel is probably unadaptable. I also expect that a film version of Blood Meridian would essentially be unwatchable because of the violence. Some images, I believe, are best left to print.  

The Melodramatic Match: A Review and General Commentary on the Inspirational Sports Movie Genre

The inspirational sports movie genre is one of the most popular genres out there. For some reason, Americans love movies like Rudy, Remember the Titans, Glory Road, and The Rookie--even though these movies all share the same basic plot and characters. Usually, whenever a movie like those mentioned above comes to the theater, I roll my eyes and say something sarcastic about it. 

To my wife's surprise, though, I recently brought home a copy of The Miracle Match, an "inspirational" movie (originall titled The Game of Their Lives) about an underdog American soccer team and its experience at the 1950 World Cup. Admittedly, I knew the movie was going to be crap before I watched (I mean, it was from the makers of Rudy), but part of it was filmed in Belo Horizonte, Brazil, where I served my mission, and I was feeling nostalgic. 

To my disappointment, of course, only the last fifteen minutes of the movie took place in Belo Horizonte--and then only inside one of the soccer stadiums there. The rest of movie took place in two less exotic locales: Saint Louis and New York City. 

Over all, The Miracle Match is really not worth your time...unless you like movies that contain the following:

• A highly predictable formula (i.e.--An underdog team, composed of misfits with strong personalities, defies all odds and beats a seemingly unbeatable foe).
• An inspirational speech every five minutes or so (accompanied, of course, by inspirationally crappy inspirational "speech music").
• Heart-warming messages about teamwork, brotherhood, determination, and courage.
• Stock sports movie characters: the team jerk, the insecure leader (who ultimately finds his inner strength), the team goofball, etc.
• An injury or some other physical ailment that occurs to a key player one hour into the movie, which temporarily threatens the team's chance of victory.
• Former child stars.
• An excess of slow-motion photography.

Of course, some of you may be saying, "Aww, Scott, you just don't like sports movies." 

Well, that's not entirely true. In my defense, I've compiled a list of "approved" sports movies. A lot of them are even inspirational. Here they are:

• The Karate Kid
• The Karate Kid, Part II
• Rocky
• The Natural
• The Pride of the Yankees
• Bobby Jones: Stroke of Genius
• Chariots of Fire
• The Cinderella Man (My favorite sports movie)
• The Greatest Game Ever Played
• Million Dollar Baby
• Gentleman Jim

I am sure there are other great sports movies out there, of course. If you have any recommendations, let me know. 

Canon Fodder

I am only days away from teaching another section of Introduction to Literature, which is one of my favorite classes to teach. Still, as I ready my syllabus, I find myself wishing that I had more control over what my students are able to read.

Not that any of this will mean much to a majority of my readers, but the reading list for my intro class contains, among others, the following works:

"A&P," John Updike

"A Good Man is Hard to Find," Flannery O'Connor

"A Rose For Emily," William Faulkner

"Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" Joyce Carol Oates

"Young Goodman Brown," Nathaniel Hawthorne

"Nothing Gold Can Stay," Robert Frost

"I like to see it lap the Miles--," Emily Dickinson

"The Red Wheelbarrow," William Carlos Williams

"The Eagle," Alfred, Lord Tennyson

"Harlem," Langston Hughes

"My Papa's Waltz," Theodore Roethke

Now, let me make this clear: nothing is wrong with any of these works. I like each and every one of them.  However, I dislike the fact that they (and others like them) seem to be the only works ever in introductory anthologies. In many ways, they are rapidly becoming the literary equivalents of those pop songs that are always being overplayed on the radio--the "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" or "I Will Always Love You" of literature, if you will.

One rationale behind this unimaginative trend of over-anthologizing is the noble propagation of the literary canon, or that collection of literary texts that is meant to represent the best of the best in literature. Advocates of the canon argue (and I oversimplify for clarity) that certain works stand as artistic exemplars of their time and genre, and therefore deserve to be studied more than other similar works from similar periods. So, students now study Shakespeare's Hamlet or Othello, rather than Titus Andronicus or King Lear, because somewhere along the line someone decided that Hamlet and Othello were exemplary English Renaissance tragedies. Such reasoning, of course, further suggests that non-canonical works, or those rarely anthologized, are best left to the experts--or at least to those who respond well to the major works in the canon.

I'm not a fan of the literary canon, although I understand the reasoning behind establishing a pool of culturally significant texts. My main concern is that the great stories and poems of our time, such as those listed above, are becoming tiresome, used up, and worn out. The litery canon needs to be a vast collection of texts, and we need anthologies that aim for originality and variety. 

Please, all of you lazy anthology editors out there, don't let Flannery O'Connor or William Faulkner or William Carlos Williams become the Spin Doctors of literature studies. Stop this mad epidemic of over-anthologizing! Give variety a chance. 

Besides, I think I can stomach only one year more of student speculation on the fate of Connie and Arnold Friend.