We’re reminded, every once in a while, of the full humane potential of literary scholarship.

By now you’ve heard the news:  The young postmodern Turks over at the IAU have voted to undiscover Pluto, blissfully unaware of at least two things:

1) Most of us will be quite content to privately undiscover the IAU and their heretical  conclusions.
2)  Their attempted de-resing of the ninth planet is certain to make that frigid world still cooler—what could be better, after-all than a distant realm of Hades that is  renegade and underground?  In many respects, we couldn’t have planned it better ourselves.

Nevertheless, I do hope that the scandalous young bucks over at the IAU know what they have gotten themselves into, and that they’ve locked the doors in anticipation of the full-on ferocious assault that is surely about to visited upon them by a provoked Alan Sokal.

In a thread about the woes of analytical philosophy over at Mefi, I linked to the work of an analytical philosopher over at UT Austin. I noticed this fellow’s writing in the context of the latest spate of articles on the subject of low liberal birthrates that’s been sweeping the blogosphere lately, and the proposition that democracy is just governance by birthrate.  Here’s the chief example.  Regarding this controversy, The Daily Kos links to Digby who points out that this conclusion may be a bit overwrought, in view of the fact that many conservatives become more liberal.

Well, Analytical Philosopher Robert Koons has already given this whole question some careful scrutiny, from the lofty vantage point of the analytical tradition.  For him it’s quite clear that conservative birthrate and liberal education are locked in mortal combat.  Like the conservatives who are pushing to discredit the Ivy League, Koons seems to have few hesitations about admitting that education is in the long run inimical to conservative thought.  But for him, that’s ok, because for him the best ideas are easy to distinguish: they’re the ones that produce the most babies.  Koons:

[W]hich worldview is more likely to represent cognitive attunement to reality: the viewpoint of those most directly involved in the indispensable processes of human life — making and selling things, raising and nurturing children – or the viewpoint of those whose business consists primarily in simply talking to each another, whose livelihood depends entirely on the autonomous assessment of their peers? In the first case, the constraints of reality ensure that thought cannot deviate too far from the truth, since success in supporting and raising viable and competent human beings depends on genuine knowledge of human nature and the natural environment. In the second case, there is nothing to prevent the entire system from becoming dominated by sheer fantasy, since it is ultimately the opinions of one’s peers, and not the verdict of reality, that determine the success or failure of academics and other New Class wordsmiths. (link to the rest)

Ah yes, sweet analysis.  But how do we tell if she’s made of wood?

Ok, I saw this movie on Sunday night and, really, it’s not that good.  After watching the film, I found myself at the Esquire, on the other side of the table from two friends who were decidedly unreceptive to this conclusion.  As I downed a rum and coke and some Mozzarella sticks, I tried explaining the badness of the film at considerable length, but could make no headway.

Since then I’ve looked at rottentomatoes.com and noticed that the film scores more than 90% “fresh” and even seen a random blog or two gushing at the the virtues of this film.  But let me reiterate: it’s just not that good.  I mean, it’s not bad.  I gave it, at the Esquire, three stars  (defensible, if a bit generous).

This is a film about a dysfunctional depressed family that takes a road-trip and in so doing discovers their love for life and for one-another.  The trip is taken at the behest of the family’s daughter, who wants to compete in the “Little Miss Sunshine” pageant, despite being the sort of awkward, ungainly, and dazed protagonist that’s now very familiar from films like Napoleon Dynamite, and that seems to have been established with Todd Solondz’s rather unappreciated “Welcome to the Doll House,” back in 1995.

The film thus combines the ungainly dazed adolescent film with with the road-trip film.  And again, the film has its strenghts.  The film is generally well-acted, with Abigail Breslin (the kid) and Alan Arkin (grandpa) providing the film’s real standout performances.  Little Miss Sunshine is at its best when the these two are together–eating ice cream at a restaurant, or talking before bedtime at the hotel. 

However beyond these sweet performances the film, as a story, is not too compelling.  In fact, ranked either against on-the-road movies, or against ungainly dazed adolescent films, this one probably falls towards the low end of the spectrum.  It’s formulaic (guess how the family’s oldest member fares on the long journey?) and repetitive (the repeated push-starts of the old VW Bus are charming, but consume a lot of screen time).  And most of all, the film depends for the payoff at the end of the long journey, on a beauty pageant that set-up a dissapointly  facile comparison of the quirky and openly messed up protagonists with the repressed and vicious organizers of the Little Miss Sunshine pageant.  Relying this easy contrast, Little Miss Sunshine ends up endorsing a self-congratulatory coolness of the outcast that ultimately depends on just the kind of indiscriminate mean-spirited contempt that ungainly outcasts are usually supposed to have suffered themselves.  So, the ending of this film is disappointing.

The film also suffers from annoying little plot problems.  Abigail Breslin’s character puts on a charming surprise performance that distinguishes her from the talented but mainstream pageant entrants.  But how could she have practiced her dance routine without her family having even the faintest clue what this routine consisted of, or the music she was using?  Furthermore, we’re supposed to understand that Breslin’s character has already tried out for this pageant.  How is it then that her parents exhibit such a total lack of knowledge about what their daughter is up against?  etc.

In short, this is a pleasant and watchable film that benefits from strong acting, but that is also overly sentimental in ways that undermine its ability to substantively explore its putative themes.

So there.

[EDIT: Q:  Did I confuse Toni Collette and Abigail Breslin?  A: Not unless you can prove it, bub.]

David Foster Wallace on Roger Federer as Religious Experience.

Wallace, the son of my old Ethics professor, has written similar things before.  But here he gives his due to Roger Federer, which is only proper, and says a thing or two about the evolution of contemporary professional tennis while he’s at it.

I notice that The Onion seems to have its entire archives available online now, including the article that includes this perfect image of Don Rumsfeld, and is the only article from that fine publication to have made it to the hallowed bulletin board behind my desk.  Here’s another article that might be both too terrifying and close to home to make to the wall of my office.

Billboards!

Well, I hope there’s more than that.  On a related note, I should perhaps mention that UI is cutting health insurance for its fulltime instructors, such as myself.  I should have it this semester and next (if I have teaching next semester)—but this coming summer, I’ll have no health insurance, unless I buy it myself.

A year from now, it’s just possible I’ll be teaching somewhere else.  Hard to imagine, but we’ll have to wait and see.  Perhaps  somewhere where one can go and see a doctor if necessary, even in the summer.

Further related notes:

* UI to offer degrees over the internet

and

* UI fails to make Newsweek’s new list of “New Ivies”

Go figure.

As a long-time McLaughlin Report addict, I’ve developed a kind of Stockholm Symdrome affection for Mr. Pat Buchanan.  If you love Pat as much as I do, or if you’re concerned about the growing threat of BLT’s, this PatB/Ali G clip is a must-see.

Gangs Thrive in Gated Communities

(AP) Many city folk liked the Poconos so much they built vacation homes, which gave rise to gated communities with their own pools and clubhouses and private security. In recent years, these same communities in northeastern Pennsylvania have lured year-round residents from New York and New Jersey - thousands of them - who found good schools, cheap housing, low taxes and safer neighborhoods.

With so many commuting to jobs in New Jersey and New York, teenage children are left unsupervised for hours at a time after school. Bored teens who have little to keep them occupied can be easy pickings for gang recruiters, experts say.

“People who moved from New York and New Jersey into the gated communities, some of the youngsters decided they were going to get together and try to imitate the gangs,” said Marut, the state police commander. “From there, it kind of mushroomed, with outside people coming in from New York City who were actual gang members trying to organize people.”

Bloods, Crips, Latin Kings and MS13, a Latino gang, all have a presence here, authorities say.

You really must have a look at this gallery of unusual statues.  Trust me.

But Project Janna is set to pick up where Janna & Sanjay’s blog left off.

Best wishes to everyone’s favorite Oakland residents.