Why I Watch the Watchmen

He's giant, he's blue, he's naked.

I still can't work out why it's so compelling. Probably just not enough full-frontal nudity in cinema.

No god today - still basking in the cool of Watchmen. Go see it.

Edumactaion

Being a High School teacher is a bit like being a politician or priest. For the benefit of all involved, you can't really bring it up. Other people always fall back on the same conversational pieces - "I had a teacher who...", "Did you see what the paper said about [insert educational issue here]" and my favourite, "it's a noble profession". Do University Professors have this problem?

These banal responses make me wish I could introduce myself as something else - Solutions Expert? Knowledge Advisor? Consulting Instructor? I like that one.

The point, of course, is that it's a cursed topic. Everyone has an opinion which will likely clash with the opinion of the person sitting next to them. How do we resolve this? Like politics and religion, we avoid bringing it up.

That said, I'm proud to be a teacher. There's a part of me that is looking further down the track to other things I want to do, other challenges, but I really get a kick out of helping people become smarter and make no mistake, that is a teacher's job. I'm not there to teach literature alone, I'm there to help people become better people - literature is just a tool I use to do it, just as Science teachers use experiments and maths teachers use... triangles?

Crusader? Oppositionist? I am the flood-break that stands against the tide of ignorance?

And now we come to my point, assuming I can find one. Education is a self-driven phenomenon. I am a facilitator, a conveyor, if you will, of information. I can't force it into anyone's head. This, on some level, troubles me, because we have created a society that allows people to be ignorant, indeed it is encouraged in some areas.

On the one hand, we believe in the rights of the individual, on the other, the individual can be a drag on our society, who many of us would want to punish... OK, I've been teaching Belonging too much, but you get the point. What are we supposed to do with people who don't want to learn? I ask this because I have a student who hasn't taken any feedback on board for the last 3 years that I've taught him and it's coming back to bite him on the ass. I'm worried. I'm helping him all I can, but in the end, I'm just...

An actor on the great stage? An influential thoughtist? A Mind Meddler? A Guide? Thoughtpolice? In the book of life, I'm the extended metaphor?

The truth is that I am all of these things and I'm glad for it. The truth is that I don't care if it's rude and confronting, I'm a teacher. The truth is that I'm going to do all I can to help that student and keep advising him till the moment before his HSC exam because something of what I say might go in and that hope is worth all the anguish and eye-rolling and tooth-grinding and paperwork and mundanity that goes on behind the scenes of my job. In class, I'm a Rock Star. When you're not looking, I'm a Garbageman.

I'm coming to help you all, if you want it.

Johannes Gutenberg, Patron Saint of Education

On September 30, 1452, Gutenberg printed his first bible, having invented the Printing Press in order to be able to do so. While I have issues with his first choice, it is because of this that we can today pluck books from shelves and learn things for ourselves. While not all of us have the motivation to do so, it is a right that should be in the UN charter. No tool for self-improvement is so great as the book and it is time that we recognised Gutenberg for his contribution. Interestingly, he did this in his 50's, showing that it is never too late to achieve the highest hights. Not that 50 is old anymore... As an interesting side note, the Egyptians had a god of Education - it was one of the hats Thoth wore - but the Greeks and copycat Romans failed to achieve this, just tacking it onto Athena as a wisdom thing. What's up with that? Time for teachers to reclaim their divine representation!

Why You Can Speak

I hate Blogs.


More correctly, I hate the fact that anyone can blog.


Still more correctly, I hate the fact that Blogs mean that anyone who has a computer, has a voice. Because you don't all deserve one.


Let's face it, folks, democracy is a sick and twisted joke played on the few by the many. Some of us are rational, sensible, intelligent people - we deserve a vote. Others of us (for convenience, let's refer to them as 'the majority') are insufferable morons who consume valuable oxygen and inconvenience me (and by extension, you) with their existence. They do not deserve a vote.


OK, back to the world of reason and equality, while I hate it, I'm glad that every idiot who knows that keyboards aren't for licking has a say in the world. Really glad. Because you know what's worse than democracy? Everything else. The laudable goals of communism fail under the pressures of human greed. The notion of a protective aristocracy crumbles due to its own complete corruption. Theocratic government will always fail because there are always unbelievers.


Yes, Democracy drags me (read: us - I'm giving you a lot of cred as one of the few people who reads this blog... don't disappoint me) down, but it also raises so many people up... It gives them a chance - in Australia, it thrusts a chance upon you - to make a difference, because just one vote can win an election or overturn a referendum. All of us should have this chance - even people with stupid Blogs.


The point to which I have long-windedly come, is that the internet is full of opinions, many of which are stupid. It takes moments and only a little initiative to start a Blog (see http://mrlsucks.blogspot.com/ for evidence) but it takes a great deal more than that to make your blog good (see http://chasinggeese.blogspot.com/ for more evidence).


I have decided to post more regularly and to try and make this a good blog. Too many of my previous entries have been long, long, long. You can find me on Twitter if you want short, short, short, but I think I'm going to go for something less D&M and more upbeat this year. Let me know what you think, tell your friends, etc.


New God time:

Doctor Glen Barry, God of the Voice

Who??

Doctor Glen Barry invented the political blog. His site, Climateark, is still running here after starting in 1993 - a respectable 16 years old. He not only started a political movement by promoting ecology, e started the ball rolling for YOU. He popularised and validated a new text type - probably now used almost as much as cinema for passing messages to people. If only someone had done the same for comic books in the 30's, we wouldn't be fighting for recognition and validity now. Bottom line, this guy made a significant contribution to the notion that it is possible for people everywhere to say what they like, irrespective of what their government thinks. For this, we connonise him here today.

The Rhythm of Life is a Powerful Beat...

Music is an amazing thing. I think all too often that we allow our cynism and me-centric world view to turn music into something we take for granted, which is a shame. As I write this post, my son is peacefully sleeping, having been lulled to that state by Snow Patrol's 'Chasing Cars' and the Proclaimers' 'Whole Wide World' (ironically, he awoke as I was typing that and not even Boney M's 'Rasputin', normally a juggernaut of conciouness-killing, could get him back down). I would really like him to end up as a 'musical kid', but I've read Maestro, so I'm not too fussed if it doesn't happen.

So, what's the story with music today? It seems that the world (by which I mean American Chart music) has moved towards 'R & B' music, which frankly has little to do with the blues all to do with rhythm. OK, I admit it, I don't like the sound, I'm baised, but where is the meaning?

Music, to me, has always been a statement, a significant, formative part of identity. I listened to Billy Joel as a youth and learned how to be cynical. I listened to Queen and learned how to be a dreamer. I listen to the Barenaked Ladies and the Proclaimers now and learn how to laugh at the world. What am I learning from P.Diddy and Soulja Boy? How to flash my bling and my hos and record an album for 6 million dollars?

Alright, I went overboard questioning what's happened to 'music today' - after all, music is as infinite in genre as literature or art and generalisations are the bane of us all, but I do have a real problem. I'm running out of music. I look at my shelf of CDs, my hard drive of MP3's and all I can think is 'Woohoohoo, it's all been done'. I keep going back to old favourites all the time where I'm sure that a few years ago, I was discovering new music whenever I logged onto Napster.

That said, the Wiggles are surprisingly cool... Thanks Avery! I'm sure that as my son grows up, we'll share musical tastes and make some discoveries together, but right now, I need a musical hit. I've lived my life to music, I can't bare to be without it (something that many other teachers seem to get confused about - peace and quiet scare me, I much prefer some noise if I need to work, or be in a classroom) and it feels like I'm running out. Suggestions?

Oh, right, the reason you come here, the new addition...

Billy Joel, Muse of Music

So, William Joel Jr, promoted to divinity - why? As noted above, he sings with meaning and taught me about cynism, but there's more to it than that. Billy Joel is a songwriter in all senses of the word - he composes, he writes, he produces. A consummate performer, he charges outrageous prices for his concerts because, frankly, he's that damn good. And it's always worth paying for. So much stage presence, so many life-changing songs (including the ones you may not know, like The Entertainer or Angry Young Man, not just River of Dreams or Piano Man) in so many different styles (check out his classical album, Fantasies and Delusions if you don't believe me) - no musician in living memory has accomplished so much in my humble, Pantheon-defining opinion. I leave you with his words and the promise that till the day I stop blogging, I'll be an Angry Young Man.

There's a place in the world for the Angry Young Man

with his working-class ties and his radical plans

He refuses to bend, he refuses to crawl

and he's always at home with his back to the wall

New Post Coming Soon

I'm between the Trials and HSC marking at the moment... New post as soon as I can get to it.

Until then, think about what's coming...

Whither Glory?

Before I start, I'd like to remind you about how liberal my views are generally. I tend to believe that people should all coexist peacefully and ignore most of their petty squabbles, but when the blast of war blows in our ears...

War, huh? Yeah. What is it good for?

Not absolutely nothing.

Lots of things have been brewing in my overly-busy, swamped-with-work mind recently about the notion of war. People talk about the day when peace comes to Earth, when no-one fights anymore, when 'war is over if you want it'. This may be provocative, but I think that's bollocks. I think the day that we don't fight, we'll all be either dead or neutered and I'm not interested in being either.

Already, our world is moving in this direction - postmodernism evolved as a reaction to war, an attempt to break down barriers, to recognise that all of us are essentially the same. The problem is that we're not all the same and we should be disagreeing about things, challenging them and yes, fighting for them when they are threatened. This is why postmodernism is so unpopular.

Read this:

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate
Those that I guard I do not love;

My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public man, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;

I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

William Butler Yeats wrote that in 1919, after the Great War (not WWI - we need to remember it by its scale). The Irish Airman in the poem is a tragic figure, the poem is haunting and beautiful, one of my favourites, but it is about fighting for all the wrong reasons. Those he fights, he does not hate, those he guards, he does not love - but he should. Because that is the reason for fighting, really - to protect something you love. Any other reason, pride, anger, hatred, these things are not worth killing over, but there are things in this world worth protecting...

The decline of war has cost us something in the world, however - glory. Death is always sad, but given the option, I'd rather die with a yell than a whimper. We are doomed, all of us, to end our lives in a hospital bed surrounded by loved ones. This is an ignoble fate - I don't want my loved ones remembering me that way. I've told a few of my students that my goal as their teacher is to teach them how to be the guy in all those barfight scenes who lifts his glass as people fly by and ignores the chaos around him, enjoying his drink. That guy is always funny. But he's never the main character - which would you rather be?

Read this (or watch this if you're lazy):

Well I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to war

I wanna good steed under me like my forefathers before

I want a good mount when the bugle sounds and I hear the cannons roar

Well I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to war

Well I want a horse in a volunteer force that's riding forth at dawn

Please save for me some gallantry that will echo when I'm gone

I beg of you Sarge' let me lead the charge when the battle lines are drawn Let me at least leave a good hoof beat they'll remember loud and long

Well I'd not a good foot soldier make I'd be sour and slow at march

And I'd be sick on a navy ship and the sea would leave me parched

But I'll be first in line if they let me ride by God you'll see my starch

Look back for the heath of the laurel wreath underneath that victory arch

Well I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to war

I want a good steed under me like my forefathers before

I wanna good mount when the bugle sounds and I hear the cannons roar Well I wanna be in the cavalry if the send me off to war

Let me earn my spurs in the battle's blur when the day is lost or won

I'll wield my lance as the ponies dance and the blackards fire their guns

A sabre keen and a saddle carbine and an Army Remington

When the hot lead screams thourgh the cold, coarse steel let me be a cavalryman

Well I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to war

And I want a good steed under me like my forefathers before

I want a good mount when the bugle sounds and I hear the cannons roar Well I want to be in the cavalry if I must go off to war

Let them play their flutes and stirrup my boots and place them back to front

'Cause I won't be back on the riderless black and I'm finished in my hunt Well I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to war

Well I wanna be in the cavalry but I won't ride home no more

That's what I'm talking about. Songs are written for brave men who die in battle - what's written for those who die in bed?

To sum up, I'm not a gun-waving redneck. I don't think Americans should have the right to carry guns around. But I do believe in every individual's right to think and feel what they want to. Even yours if you disagree with me. We don't fight because we're different, we SHOULD fight because we ARE different. The day we're not, something even greater than glory will be lost.

In closing, let me say:

The Vietnam war - Wrong

Israel - In the Right

America - In the Wrong

Iraq - Also in the Wrong

Afghanistan - Really Really in the Wrong

China - in the Wings, waiting.

and now, onto the God of the day. War - a big one to cast. The ancients had Ares (one bad-@$$ mofo), Onuris (who is in no surviving instance of iconography depicted without a spear or a rope), Bishamon ('the Scourge of evil') and Kali (Hot chick, 6 arms all carrying scimitars, also the goddess of love - go figure...). Who could contend with those guys? Who in real life is hardcore enough to rate as the god of war? I'll tell you who...

Ghengis Khan, God of War

At the tender age of 9, Ghengis killed his brother for a fish. By 30, he had conquered all of Asia. Let me say that again, he had conquered all of the world's largest single land mass. We're not talking about Alexander-esque subjugation where half the people you encounter don't fight, we're talking about brutal, bloody conquest.

This may seem disingenuous with what I was saying earlier about glory and protection, but simply put, no-one else in the history of the world, not Caesar, Alexander, Napoleon, Hitler - none of them was so intimate with war. Tacticians and politicians don't see men dying so much as numbers and positions. Ghengis was there, wielding weapons, drinking and pillaging with his men, waging war from the thick of it. He may not have killed the most people (or he may have, personally), he may not be recent, but there has been no-one else in our world who so embodied the notion of War.

BONUS!

What about Glory then? My brother is going to talk trash at me for months over this, but there's only one obvious candidate...

Leonidas, God of Glory

Spartan King who supposedly led the 300 Spartans against the Persian army at Thermopylae. Irrespective of the numbers at the battle (estimates range from 100,000 to 1,000,000 Persians and 300 to 3000 Spartans), this story is about the legend. A pass. 300 men willing to die for a country that wouldn't support them. So they went out, they fought, they died and they made an example that echoes through the ages. There are plenty of others who have died gloriously, but these guys did it best. Hats off, lads and go not quietly into that good night...

Birthday Blogging

So, I've just turned 29. Any insights? No, not really - just a short post. But I have felt that I'm starting to hit my stride - my powers of cool are growing still. Age is a strange thing in that one's perspective on it changes as we get older - at 15, I thought life ended at 22. At 20, 30 seemed distant. Looking at 30 now, all I can really see is the need to lose some weight by 40. Heaven knows what Avery thinks - is 3 the new 2?

But one important thing that we can all appreciate is aging gracefully - not grumbling too much, looking like you used to, but more distinguished, laughing off jokes about fossils and your name being before Moses on the roll... There is a deceptive art to being graceful and it involves much more than simply getting the Reed Richards racing stripes. It's about letting go of the Angry Young Man that we all hold inside us (well, all of us who are men, anyway). It's about mellowing and recognising that quiet resistance is as effective as violent protest. It's about realising that no matter what younger people think, you ARE still cooler than them. In short, it's about being

George Clooney, God of Grace and Independent Cinema

He is humble, he is elegant, he is Clooney. Elegant and Graceful are terms not generally applied to men, but that's OK because I've just made him a god. George onscreen can be tough, sophisticated, funny, goofy, charming - anything he wants to be really. But it is offscreen where he really wins me over. He has a policy of doing an independent film that he believes in alternately with every blockbuster he makes for a big-name company. As if that in itself weren't enough, he often funds the films himself, he's an active environmentalist and he's one of the sexiest guys ever to get over the 50 mark - I mean look at him - if I were ever going to jump the fence... This is a guy who we would welcome into our homes because we know he'd be an entertaining and gracious guest and even though your sister would fall for him, he'd be too much of a gentleman to do anything about it.

To Clooney, ladies and gents. May the ripe old age of 30 next year see me being just half as cool, charming and of course graceful as he is.