Good Job, World!

I have been very happy with the course of world events recently. In the past month or so, a multitude of nice, progressive, liberal things happened:

-Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf scored a 59.4-40.6% victory in Liberia's presidential election, making her the first elected female head of state in the history of Africa.

-On December 21, the United Kingdom began allowing the union of homosexual couples, a move that was overwhelmingly supported by the country's people. The UK joins Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Iceland, Finland, the Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, Germany, France, Luxembourg, Canada, Argentina, New Zealand, and South Africa (along with some US states) to legalize homosexual unions. (Note the difficulty in finding a "Western" country that isn't on this list. Hey America, get a move on!)

-The United States senate, breaking partisan binds, shot down a measure to begin drilling in Alaska's Arctic Wildlife Refuge. This was despite the fact that the proposal was tacked on to the Defense Funding Bill, meaning Senators caught the evil Republican's plan and didn't buy it. Nice.

-A judge in Pennsylvania mega shot down a school board's lawsuit to allow the teaching of "Intelligent Design" in schools. His over 100-page ruling was scathing, full of harsh language, and called the defendants "liars." The judge was a Bush-appointee.

Yay world!

Application #5 of 6: Complete

Department of the History of Art and Architecture

One Hundred Minutes

Every weekday morning my alarm clock goes off at 5AM. That's beacuse I must leave my house by 6:00AM at the latest to get a parking spot to take the 6:37 AM train for over an hour to downtown Chicago so I can get to the museum where I work on time. Even then, I still must wait fifteen minutes in the cold just to catch a bus so I can get to work by 8:30. My total commute time? Two and a half hours.

So you can imagine that, when the work day is done, I try to get home as quick as possible. And what now follows is the amazing story of luck, skill, and determination and how today, I managed to arrive at my home in a far western suburb of Chicago, in less than one hundred minutes after leaving work.I work at the Field Museum in Chicago. Many of you may know this. What you may not know is that I work in a very small, cold, lonely room (only accessible by elevator) on the museum's fourth floor. This room is situated such that if a fire occurred, I would surely be guaranteed to die. Now normally I can not leave this room before 4:30PM, when the work day ends. At that time my boss comes up from the third floor so we can set away the objects I was working with that day. Then I go downstairs, gather my things, maybe use the restroom, and head to the south entrance of the museum so I can catch a train. It takes me ten minutes just to get out of the museum, meaning I am at the bus stop no earlier than 4:45. During the summer I can walk from the museum to my train station. In wintertime, however, I almost always end up taking the bus, since a forty-minute trek in windy, biting cold Chicago December weather is nearly a death sentence. Usually I end up waiting for the bus for five minutes or so, taking the first one that comes just so I can warm myself. I have many options. The 12 Roosevelt takes me down Roosevelt Ave to the CTA station there, and then I can take the Green Line to the train station. The 12 runs every five minutes or so, so that's my most frequent choice. Less often I take the 146 bus, which takes me up State Street at a snail's pace, and then I still have to walk five blocks to the train station. Once in a blue moon, the 127 Bus comes (only costs a dollar!) which goes right to the train station. Even then, it still takes forty minutes after I leave the museum. Which means the absolute earliest I get to the train station is around 5:20 (my record is 5:15). There are three commuter trains that leave the train station on weekdays. The 5:17 train gets to Geneva at 6:23, so I get home around 6:45 once I clean my car out of the snow. The 5:32 train gets in at 6:33, a time of one hour and one minute. I get home a little before seven. Again, two and a half hours.

And then there is the 5:04. The 5:04 train is so amazing that it has a name - "The Wheaton Bullet." The Bullet was specially created for far-western suburub commuters who wanted to get home quickly. It runs straight past all but three stops on the line, going express to Wheaton, the Winfield, and finally my stop of Geneva. It arrives at 5:58 PM.

As you can tell from my previous boring discussion of commute specifics, it would require nothing short of a public transport miracle for me to catch the Bullet. I would have to leave work at 4:30, a near impossibility in and of itself, and then have all three public transports (the bus, then my CTA train, then my commuter train) all coordinate in such a way as to get me to the train station in half an hour. I would need to break my record by eleven minutes.

But today was a magical day.

4:15 I manage to finish my work. With nothing left to do for the day, and not enough time to start a new project, I called my boss and had my objects put away by 4:20. Normal time: 4:30

4:25 I run downstairs, grab my coat, and start walking out. Here the danger begins. My big boss is a sticklet for being on time, and if he catches you leaving before 4:30, you get reprimanded badly. I ducked around corners and took back roots to avoid his office, and I buzz out of the museum at 4:29. Normal time: 4:40

4:31 And then I see the bus. Right there, the 12 Roosevelt patiently waits for me, as if I am expected. I run to it, quick as ever, and jump on. Normal time: 4:45

4:40 The bus then hist every green light as it rides through the Chicago streets, making great time as I am dropped off at the Roosevelt CTA station. Normal time: 4:55

4:42 I go in to the station, pay my fare, and RUN up the escalator to see an inbound Green Line train pulling in just then. Usually I wait ten minutes for it or more, today I waited ten seconds. Normal time: 5:05

4:56 I luck out with the fact that most commuters are vacationing this week, so the CTA train is relatively empty. With less people getting on and off at each stop, I get to the Clinton stop almost twenty minutes early. Normal time: 5:16.

4:59 I hit all "Walk" signs and get into the train station, run up the stairs, to see the Wheaton Bullet sitting there, like a silver jewel in the sky, with five minutes to spare. Normal time: 5:19.

And then it hits me: I don't have a ticket. I was supposed to but a new 10-ride ticket this morning, but I was so tired I forgot to do it. It costs $42, and I don't have the cash, so I have to pay with a check. I run to the ticket counter, give them the check, furiously grab my ID out of my pocket, and give it to the teller.

And she stares.

And stares.

For two minutes she looks at my check, then my ID, then at me, then at the "Don't sell tickets to these people" list. I was screaming at her in my mind. "The Wheaton Bullet is sitting RIGHT THERE and you're lollygagging!! Give me my ticket!!" After what seems like an eternity, she finally hands it to me. Time: 5:03.

I run to the train, only one hundred feet away, my goal so close I can see it, feel it, smell it.

Then a rush of relief comes over my body as I fly into the first car, just as the doors close behind me. The Bullet was on its way, and I was a passenger. It was packed full, seats were impossible to come by, but eventually I squeezed in between two self-important businessmen. I felt so privileged my IQ went up ten points. I read the whole way home.

It arrived right on time, 5:58, and I pulled in to my driveway at 6:08. Only ninety-nine minutes after leaving work, cutting fifty minutes off of my average commute. Greatest public transportation miralce in history.

Application #4 of 6: Complete

Department of the History of Art

Application #3 of 6: Complete

Department of Art History and Archaeology

Intrestingly, From The Same Document. . . .

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions.

Words As True Today As Then

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, that whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government. . . .

Another One Of My All-Time Favorite Artworks

Portrait of a Negress (1800)
Marie Guillemine Benoist (French, 1768-1826)


The negress' gaze in this portrait absolutely make the painting. I've heard people say that Portrait of a Negress is about everything from colonialism and racism to the role of women in society, to just being a plain old portrait of a servant. But regardless of what you say, I have been looking at paintings for probably a decade now, and I have never seen anyone capture a stare like that.

It's borderline haunting.

I'm Reading More And More All The Time

From American Slavery, American Freedom by Edmund Morgan (1975), as quoted in Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States (2003), p. 25:


If you were a colonist, you knew your technology was superior to the Indians'. You knew that you were civilized, and they were savages. . . . But your superior technology had proved insufficient to extract anything. The Indians, keeping to themselves, laughed at your superor methods and lived from the same land more abundandtly and with less labor than you did. . . . And when your own people started deserting in order to live with them, it was too much. . . . So you killed the Indians, tortured them, burned their villages, burned their cornfields. It proved your superiority, in spite of your failures. And you gave similar treatment to any of your own people who succumbed to their savage ways of life.

But you still did not grow much corn. . . .

Application #2 of 6: Complete

Department of Art History

Application #1 of 6: Complete

Department of Art History

Profound Thoughts, Courtesy of Prehistoric Art

Above this horse painting are the negative images of two handprints. They were created by a person blowing a black powder pigment onto his or her hands, which were pressed against the wall. The artist then lifted up his or her hands, and these are the images that remained - one left hand, one right hand, from the same person, and created at the same time.

These handprints are from the Peche-Merle Cave in modern-day France.

They are twenty thousand years old.

I Won't Miss You

I always find it difficult to maintain neutral opinions when I write. But you know I am really upset when I cannot maintain a civil writing tone. This is one of those stories.

. . . .

Gary Barnett was fired from his position of head football coach at the University of Colorado today.

Good.

I've been waiting for CU to do something about him for a year and a half. "Why?" you ask? I couldn't care less about how the Colorado football team does (although they have been outscored 133-22 in their last three games, which is basically a slaughterfest). Nothing of the sort. I wanted Gary Barnett fired because he is a sexist, chauvinist pig who never deserved to be coaching in the first place.

In January of 2004, the Colorado football program was accused to using sex as a recruiting tool. They allegedly took potential football recruits to downtown Boulder hotels (off-campus) where (supposedly) willing and ready females were waiting to have sex with them. The allegations were never proven nor disproven, but the general feeling was always that they were not without basis.

But that is not what pissed me off the most. Katie Hnida was a place kicker for the University of New Mexico - the only female player on any NCAA football team. She was actually highly recruited out of high school, having never missed an extra point in her career. She transferred to UNM from - the University of Colorado. Why?

"I was treated much more like a piece of meat there," she told The Albuquerque Tribune...

In 2004, Hnida formally submitted allegations of rape against members of the University of Colorado football team - a team Gary Barnett was supposed to control. Barnett was upset with the allegations and the media circus that followed. At one point he snapped at a reporter:

"It was obvious Katie was not very good, She was awful. You know what guys do? They respect your ability. You can be 90 years old, but if you can go out and play, they'll respect you. Katie was not only a girl, she was terrible. OK? There's no other way to say it."

Essentially, Barnett was fighting her (true) accusations of rape because she couldn't kick a football. Here's a thought - maybe she would have been able to repeat her stellar high school performance if she didn't have 300-pound football player constantly harassing her. The day after this statement, Barnett issued a formal apology (which he did not author) saying that the previous quote was "misrepresented" and "taken out of context." Now, normally I try my hardest to give people the benefit of the doubt. But I cannot for the life of me figure out how you can place that comment in any positive context other than "I would have to be a complete sexist f--ing idiot to say that..."

The worst part about this is that Barnett was not fired following this - he was kept on for two more seasons. Now, with his firing (because he was a crappy coach) he will receive three million dollars in severence pay from CU. I say he should clean up his act and donate it to a women's rights group in Colorado - and that is the least he could do.

Maybe They Can Use Chariots Instead

CNN reported today that Ford Motor Company has pulled all of its advertisements from LGBT-themed publications. Why, you ask? Apparently the American Family Assocation (and you absolutely must check out their website), criticized Ford for its support of the LGBT community. Ford has stated that all of its cars, with the exception of (Swedish-based!) Volvo will no longer "target" gay and lesbian consumers. Understandably, Ford now faces a public backlash from LGBT advocates.

I really cannot figure out who is the bigger idiot here. It seems to me that the AFA's argument is essentially that gays and lesbians should not own cars. Pardon me while I assume their logic. Maybe if gays and lesbians don't have cars, they will not be able to drive out of their hippie liberal neighborhoods and invade our good and wholesome suburbia and then kidnap our children to spread their devil-religion.

Why the hell do they even care? How insecure are these people that they need to go out of their way to read LGBT publications, record all of the advertisers, and then complain to them for (gasp) advertising their products. Why don't they try boycotting LGBT publications in an effort to

But even better, Ford AGREED with them. I cannot imagine a coporation pulling advertisements simply to placate a clearly arch-conservative social group. Ford aligned themselves with these people, shunned gays and lesbians, and took a stance in a fierce culture battle when maintaining the status wuo as "just a big corporation that targets any consumer" would have been enough to stay out of the fight. Idiots!

So, for the time being, I guess gays and lesbians will be forced to realize the existence of cars (other than Volvos) without the aid of convenient magazine advertisements. At the same time, Ford better get their collective heards out of their collectively huge asshole, and the AFA needs to wake up and get with the 21st century.

(Just a fun note: the front page of the AFA website shows a still of my good pal Bill O'Reilly giving a plug for the AFA "Christmas Campaign" on The O'Reilly Factor. If Bill O'Reilly likes it, it has to be good!)

Jimmy V

Jim Valvano was the head basketball coach at North Carolina State University for nine seasons, winning the NCAA Championship in 1983. He resigned from coaching in 1990 in light of (unproven) allegations of point shaving. In 1992, Valvano was diagnosed with cancer. In light of this, the jovial and emotional Italian was awarded the Arthur Ashe Courage and Humanitarian Award at the 1993 ESPYs. On March 4, 1993, the day of the awards, Valvano had to be carted down from his hotel room in a wheelchair. When he was introduced by his good friend, ex-University of Detroit coach and ESPN commentator Dick Vitale, both Vitale and the audience were clearly emotional with the knowledge that Valvano did not have long to live. In spite of his sickness, Valvano managed to walk up to the stage to give this now famous speech. I recommend that you read it and/or listen to it - it is funny when it needs to be (the Rutgers/Packers story is one of my all time favorites) but also serious and inspiring without flowery language or empty, rehearsed prose.

ESPN and the V Foundation now sponsor an annual college basketball doubleheader at Madison Square Garden in New York, with all proceeds going to cancer research. In between the two games of the Jimmy V Classic, the video of this speech (from which the still above is taken) is played in its entirety. Since its creation, the V Foundation and the annual JimmyV Classic have raised over fifty million dollars.
For more information, please visit www.jimmyv.org.

Retire #11

To the best of my knowledge, the University of Illinois Men's Basketball team has never retired a number. No retired numbers were listed in the 2005-2006 Media Guide, and I couldn't find any references to Illini Retired Numbers online. This is something of a shock, considering the number of great players who have gone through U of I.

But this year, I think we need to start a new trend.

Daniel "Dee" Brown is the current Illini Point Guard / Shooting Guard. Assuming he puts up numbers his senior year that are equivalent to his career averages so far, he will graduate:

-1st all-time in number of wins (tied with James Augustine)
-2nd all-time in steals
-2nd all-time in assists
-3rd all-time in scoring

He has also won the following awards:

-2005 Sporting News National Player of the Year
-2005 1st-Team All-American
-2005 Big Ten Player of the Year
-2005 Defensive Player of the Year

Dee has become the poster child for Illinois basketball. Every time he walks onto the court, he is greeted like a rock star. He is, without question, the most popular player in all of college basketball. He has been on the covers of numerous magazines (Sports Illustrated, for exmaple). He has been nicknamed the "One Man Fast Break" for his ability to create steals and fast break opportunities. And last year, he had the highest 3-point shooting percentage of any guard in America (even higher than J.J. Redick).

He has the God-given ability to single-handedly change the outcome of a game. Last year, in a game at Michigan, with the Illini trailing by six, Dee stole the ball from a Michigan player THREE TIMES in less than two minutes, scoring six points. By himself, he created six points out of thin air to keep the Illini dream season going.

But more than that, he is absolutely the nicest guy in the entire world. I've never seen another athlete who always helps up every fallen player he is standing next to - regardless of the name on their jersey. Every time I hear him interviewed, he comes off as nothing but incredibly well-spoken and humble. Whenever I see him walking around campus, he has a huge smile on his face, and will always take time out to indulge a fan with an autograph, a little chat, or even a hug.

He loves his school, and he loves his state. It is clear that he did not come to Illinois just for its NBA potential, he came here to play for his state. He not only knows what it means to "represent" where he's from, he created the definition. In his words, "It feels so good when you are able to tell someone you graduated from the University of Illinois." And he would know - he graduated in three years with a 3.06 GPA, making him an academic all-Big Ten for the third year in a row. Now he is back for his senior season to lead his team on to victory once again.

This man has done more for the University of Illinois and Illini basketball than anyone before him. February 25th, in his last home game, I want to see his jersey number 11 hanging from the rafters - because no one can ever re-create what he has done.

The Following Conversation Actually Took Place:

[I approach the ATA ticket counter at Chicago Midway Airport, 1 1/2 hours before my scheduled flight time.]

Me: "Hi."
Ticket Lady: "Hello. Welcome to ATA."
"Thanks, pleasure to be here." I lie. ATA sucks, but they are cheap. Details follow.
"Where will you be flying today?"
"Boston."
[She checks her little computer thing, and promptly states:] "We don't fly to Boston."
"Hmm. That is quite interesting, considering I have a ticket to go to Boston today."
"We haven't flown to Boston for three weeks."
"I bought my ticket more than three weeks ago."
"Well, it says here that we tried to get in touch with you, but couldn't."
"You couldn't get in touch with me? I am notoriously easy to get in touch with. I have three email addresses, two phone numbers, two adresses, and my own personal messenger pigeon service."
"We couldn't get in touch with you."
"I see that."
"Well, what we can do is put you on a United Airlines flight that leaves at 9:20."
"Oh OK." This is good, only one hour later than my original flight.
"It leaves from O'Hare."
"I see." WHAT??? O'Hare is like forty miles from here. I'd have to take a cab in the morning commute traffic.
"You'll have to take a cab and hope the morning commute traffic doesn't act up. So here is a voucher for the cab. Thanks for flying ATA!"
"Oh thank you! You've been such a help." And as I recall I am not flying ATA. Now I am flying United. Because they actually fly to Boston, or at least they say they do.

After Harvard, I Went To See Shewara

You ever have a trip when all of your transportation experiences just suck? I mean just unavoidably crappy? That's how this trip was. I rode on a train from Boston to Philadelphia that was no less than four hours late due to RAIN, sat next to a person on an airplane who told me (within one minute of seeing him): "My girlfriend kicked me out of the house yesterday, I haven't flown in twenty-one years, I can have massive panic attackes at any time, and I really just need someone to talk to to calm myself down," AND was informed that I coudln't fly to Boston for a completely ridiculous reason, which I will enumerate on my next post.

But I digress.

Because as always, Shewara and I had tons of fun in Philadelphia. We always find cool random things to do that nobody else would ever think of.For example, we went to Chinatown in Philly.
We walked past the Cherry Street Chinese Kosher Vegetarian Restaurant (assumedly serving Asian-Jewish-Upperclass American Hippie Food), as well as the totally awesome Chinatown gateway. Note the awesome time-lapse photography technique by yours truly. We also hit up a really good Vietnamese restaurant, where I had the grilled Chicken Satay. Afterwards, we went to a bunch of those totally awesome and random Chinese gift shops, where I acquired the world's worst Christmas card (to be sent to a loyal reader!) and saw a notebook where each page was begun with the inspirational quote "Forge to Remember."

On another day, we trekked through surprisingly difficult-to-navigate Philly walkways until we happened upon the Rodin Museum. It was full of fascinating reproductions of most of the works of Auguste Rodin, including the incredibly famous "Thinker" statue. I only recognized one other sculpture in the whole place, and I can only assume that most visitors only recognized the "Thinker." It made us ponder why Rodin was so famous, considering he only had one or two influential works. And what made these works so influential in the first place? There were plenty of other sculptures in there I liked just as much.

After the Rodin Museum, I got to be a guest host on Shewara's weekly radio show. We played fun music and danced in the studio with her co-host. Check out the action shot of Shewara and I being DJs:

Lastly, after the show, we went back to Shewara's and made some good eats with the rations that we picked up from Trader Joe's. We had cheese, bread, and creme brulee Check out the other action shot of me working my culinary magic (this photo is actually from a previous night when I made chicken):

So overall, it was a great weekend. In addition to what I wrote about here, we also watched three Latin American movies: The Motorcycle Diaries, The Crime of Father Amaro, and God is Brazilian. We made more good food, this time our favorite Thai dish, Chicken Rama (hence the previous photo), and we checked out cool old bookstores and Italian food stores in downtown Philly.

Soon Shewara will be back in Chi-town, so we can hit up the Windy City for more fun adventures over Winter Break.

Great Writing

"...From so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved."

I truly appreciate great writing. I tend to think of great writers as having the ability to communicate endlessly complex and beautiful thoughts while using profoundly simple and succinct language. The words you see above have gone down in history as some of the most famous, if not THE most famous, in the history of science. These words grace the East entrance gate at the Field Museum in Chicago. They have given titles to multiple books and articles. They are brilliant, and so was their writer. These words are taken from the final page of Charles Darwin's first-day-of-sale sellout 1859 masterpiece, On The Origin Of Species. The two phrases most often repeated are "From so simple a beginning" and "Endless forms most beautiful." I love them both, but I'll talk about the second one to save time.

If I wanted to sit down and write a sentence that could convey the awesome complexity and beauty of all the species of Earth, what would I say? I would write something like "The brilliant multitude of species on Earth is without compare in the human imagination." Or something. But Darwin wrote only four words: "Endless forms most beautiful." You could re-write it with synonyms so say "Bunches of pretty shapes," but Darwin and you and I all know that doesn't work. The words are perfectly placed, thoughtfully selected, and sublime. I want to learn to write like that.

Who Owns It?

In 1911, Yale archaeologist and explorer Hiram Bingham "discovered" (he really just followed directions from the local people) the now incredibly famous city of Machu Picchu on the Amazonian side of the Andes Mountains, a few days' journey outside of Cusco in southern Peru. Bingham launched two more expeditions to the site in 1912 and 1914, each time procuring a small sampling of artifacts with, which permission from the Peruvian government at the time, he took back to Connecticut. He was allowed to keep them for one year - meaning they should have been returned to Peru in 1916 at the latest. But hey never went back. They have been sitting at the Peabody Museum on the campus of Yale University since Bingham brought them to the US. Now, as reported by CNN, the government of Peru wants the artifacts back - and is prepared to become involved in a lengthy and expensive lawsuit to get them.

Machu Picchu is a ridiculously famous archaeological site. It is visited every year by hundreds of thousands of tourists, many of whom go to Peru specifically to see the site and nothing else. I've been there myself, and it is simply one of the most spectacular vistas in the entire world - a architecturally sublime and fluid creation seemingly breathed out of the forests and peaks of the Andes mountains that surround it. The interesting thing is that the artifacts recovered from Machu Picchu do not mimic the magnificence of their former home. Some of the artifacts from the Yale collection were put on exhibit at the Field Museum in Chicago last year, with rather disappointing results. The public has always taken to the image of the city of Machu Picchu as a paragon of Peruvian-ness, but its objects are uninspiring to Western tastes. The art of the Incas tended to be abstract and geometric rather than figural and expressive; we Americans tend to appreciate this in our architecture, but not so much in sculpture and ceramics.

That being said, I think we can readily assume that Peru does not want these artifacts back to create a blockbuster exhibition in Lima. Peru wants these objects back for national pride. Peruvians are fiercely and understandably proud of the multitude of civilizations that flourished for the last four thousand years in what are now its borders, the Inca being last among them. But during the better part of this century, Andean civilizations and their technological, artistic, and cultural sophistication have gone underappreciated in Western (art) history textbooks. In that same time, Machu Picchu and other Andean images have become increasingly commercialized. The Peruvian government faces increasing outside pressure regarding any decision made about Machu Picchu due to its tourism and archaeological importance. Getting these objects back from Yale helps Peruvians reclaim an important part of their national heritage, while making a bold statement to the rest of the world, specifically European and American museums, regarding the ownership of culture.

But moreover, Yale is doing absolutely nothing with these things. At this point, I would bet good money that the Peabody Museum has photos, measurements, and replica models of every piece from Machu Picchu, meaning the actual artifacts themselves serve no real scientific purpose anymore. Peru - the rightful owner - has none of these. So, Yale, give them back!