Cravats (and other things that happened today)

Cravats, eh? Not quite a topic that one usually writes about in the early 21st century. Well, here's how that came about: the majority of my work gear is from op shops--Goodwill, other thrift stores, second hand places in cities I go to, online thrifting, and so on. It's environmentally more sustainable and, more importantly, cheaper. 

The reason I bring this up is because today (Wednesday) is a day I don't teach. I usually end up doing some writing, contemplating cleaning my place (contemplation doesn't often turn into action), and doing chores. Today, I bagged up a bunch of clothes, shoes, etc and took them to the local Goodwill. 

While there, this happened: 

Me: Oh, I'm going to drop off a big bag of stuff and not actually browse.
Also me: There's a shirt that comes with its own cravat. For $1.90. Come home with me, my precious!

[I'm wearing it to class at the next cool (temperature-wise, not otherwise) day as it's a full-sleeved shirt.
I may be more excited about the opportunity to tie my own cravat than is seemly.
*filed under: academia has its issues but being able to wander into work in 19th century (earlier?) gear is definitely a plus]

It was also a day during which the NYT claims the President placed Chad on the travel ban list against the advice from the State Department and DoD; The president himself gave an unfathomable (Is that the accurate term here?) response when asked why Sudan was dropped from the list; aid remains slow to reach Puerto Rico; next year, the US will accept the lowest number of refugees in almost 30 years; som kind of law means we'll never find out what happened to the policeman who mistakenly arrested James Blake (and slammed him to the ground) and, for work, I came across this "Visualising violence" special issue of Global Discourse that I've bookmarked to read over the weekend.

National Security class tomorrow at 8am. The topic is non-violence so let's see how *that* goes. 

So it's been another year...

I seem to be doing this more and more often. Well, here we go again. It's been another year and I will try to be more frequent in my updates. Most of the things on here will be about what I notice in my wanderings in Southwest Virginia as I live/work here. There will be (some) rants about Things in the News, and about sports/sci fi (not both together. Though maybe both together?)

What happened in that one year, yous ask? Well, you don't but I'll tell you:

1. My dad had a sudden cardiac arrest (aka a massive heart attack) last September. The odd thing was that he'd had a full check up the week before and had been given the all clear. He is a hiker/walker and always active. Then, this happened. He was in hospital for 3 months. My parents had to put up their house for sale for medical expenses. He's all right now--walking 2 miles a day, watching cricket, discussing politics but, for months, we weren't sure what would happen. Would he be ok? What would "ok" entail? It's hard being thousands of miles away while things like this are happening.

I realized that, while academia is flexible (I'm on a 9 month contract and so I have "time off" in summer), it is not flexible always. I couldn't just quit teaching and go to my folks, for example. There were classes to be taught, student papers to be graded, etc. I couldn't take (unpaid) leave because it's not just me who depends on my salary.

But, hey, my dad's all right for now. I spent two months with him and my mum over summer. We (Dad and I--mum sensibly stayed home) forded flooded streets, got stuck when the roads were washed away, and generally had a grand time. I am deeply grateful to the powers that be for this time but I can't help thinking if I'd stuck with my job (pre-PhD), I'd have been on hand to help, no financial worries, and a place to stay in a country with good healthcare (Thailand). Ah well. Choices.

2. Right, while all this was going on in the other side of the world, I had to get my file together for my tenure application. This was around September/October too. Yeah, Fall 2017 was memorable. No one in my department had gone up for tenure and promotion since I started since 2011. It was stressful but not as much as people kept asking me about--I was more concerned about my dad, my mum who had to take care of everything (and who is a cancer survivor herself) and my head wasn't even in SW Virginia. In May 2017, I found out I was approved for tenure and promotion--so, yay!

3. I've got things I want to say about being with my folks in the summer and doing research but that might have to be another post. Future posts will be short(er) and (most likely) just snippets of life here. Like this:

Date: 24 September, 2017
Time: 10.51pm
Place: road leading to the park next to my house in the 'burg

Small mouselike creature =0.
Also small (mostly obnoxious) dog = 1.

First (hopefully last) dog-related MURDER! of the fall season...

[I usually don't let her eat the creatures since who knows what diseases they carry. She's also not too keen on them once they are dead (aka stop struggling, aka stop "playing"). This means I end up with a half/mostly-dead creature that I have to finish off. Today: shovel to the body--it was squishy as. Packed up in a bag and chucked in rubbish bin. Thankfully, no neighbors around to be horrified]

[The excitement never stops in this town]

And this is what living here has done to me: 

2011 me: 

2011 me: WTF. WTF. WTF. A half dead creature. (small scream) 

2017 me: Yeah, hit it with a shovel and killed it dead. Look what academia has turned me into.

On bites (and reactions to)

Warning: a fairly gruesome image follows...

Despite having lived here for five years now, I've been fairly lucky in the whole: get bit by terrifying things part of things. I haven't, despite spending a lot of time in the woods and outdoors. You would think that, after spending years in Far North Queensland (hello sandflies!), SW Virginia would be a paradise of non-insect life but that's not the case. I live in a house that's almost 100 years old and used to be an undergrad residence before I moved in. There are cracks from which insects emerge, probably various crevices that the spider-cricket hybrid that exists in this part of the world lives in, and I've seen different types of scurrying creatures in the basement as I go to do my laundry.

Every time I return from a few weeks away, the house is filled with dead earwigs. I have no idea where they come from but they are everywhere. This summer, I found some in between pages of my books on the bookshelves.

All this is to say that insects are not rare in this part of the world. I've never been fond of insects--of any kind (is anyone?)--but we've kept a wary distance during my existence here. We seem to know the other exists and give each other a wide berth--helped by the fact that Dog tends to eat anything that moves. That changed a few days ago when I found my arms and hands covered with bites. They were extremely itchy and, after a few days, the skin around them died (? -- became hard and crusty). Right now, I'm at the stage where it looks as though part of my hand is about to fall off.

I have no idea what did this or how it happened but people's reactions have ranged from: What happened there?! to telling me of the many (many!) terrible things this could be: flesh-eating bacteria, chicken pox, wasps, burns...a nice lady at the grocery shop held my hand as she told me a story of how, in her day, no one swam in the rivers as it was "well known there are insects there that, when they bite, you can't move and that is it, sweetie".

The practice of strangers talking to you--a common habit in SW Virginia life in my experience--means I've also been told of many ways in which I can deal with this. So far, I'm going with the: let's put iodine on it and hope it goes away soon approach.

I'll write a bit about classes next time. For now, here's how my hand looks (arms are worse)

Back in the 'burg (and posting regularly--I hope--this semester)

So, after summer spent with parents, one of whom has been spending a fair bit of time in hospital (getting better), I returned to the US of A a few weeks back. This is going to be a very busy semester--more so than usual for reasons that will become clear as we proceed--and I figure I'll write about some of the things I see/note around here, both at work and when I'm out and about in the area. For reference, I volunteer (sometimes) and am working on doing something in the so-called outdoors once every couple of weeks or so. I also pop into gas stations, visit fairs and yard sales, drive dogs about, and such. I'll try write about some of these experiences and encounters.

I'm teaching two classes in the Fall--a senior seminar on Diplomacy and Security that I'm running as one on terrorism and counterterrorism and a National Security class for upper-level undergrads. The senior seminar is my 15th? 16th? new prep since I started here. I know. I'm also doing an independent study -- on radicalization - with some graduate students. Add the usual committee assignments, panic/worry over not having done enough work over the summer and it's likely to be a fairly (quite) busy Fall.

I've taught the NatSec class before but this semester we have three different versions of it. We also have a new Security Studies Concepts class and so I ditched a lot of the theoretical classes as I reckon they'll be covered in the Security Studies class (on Securitization, feminist and postcolonial approaches). I also changed classes on police militarization (which, last semester, almost led to blows in class) and added sections on State Terrorism. Otherwise, it's a fairly straightforward class that examines some key concepts still and then moves towards "issues". So far, I've got a full class signed up. Let's see how many stick around after the semester starts next week.

For the Senior Seminar, I've got 11 students now. I think 8-10 is a good number but we'll see how it goes. I feel that since the class is only advertised as "Senior Seminar: Diplomacy and Security", students don't really know what they are getting or what will be the topic. I think quite a few faculty make posters and pin them around but I wasn't too organized for that.

Not much to add. I still need to put up readings online and am trying to finish writing a paper that has done the rounds of different journals and emerged differently each time. Those types of things are the hardest to place--by the time it's gone to Journal No. 3, I forget what the reason I wrote it for was. Ah well, as is the norm in academia, keep at it I guess. Sometimes, though, I miss the proper 7am-3pm, paid almost as much as I get paid now job I had in my early 20's...

This weekend, I'll be walking dogs, signing up to foster for a shelter in a nearby town, and checking out an Auto Fair and Swap Meet at a nearby town. The plan is to also send off this one article before the semester begins on Monday.

Days at home

I'm back in Nepal for the summer, trying to do some research but mainly helping out/hanging out with family. It's been raining a lot and most of my travel plans to villages and areas where I'd planned to do fieldwork have been on hold. I am now trying to follow up some leads for interviews and hopefully will have enough for the book manuscript by the end of my time here. Let's see.

One of the best bits of being back here is the shift between how I think of time when in the US of A and how it is here. Doing one thing here--calling a plumber to get the pump that pumps water to the underground tank fixed (we've not had running water for decades!)--takes a day. Going somewhere takes a day. This is how a day in Kathmandu looks like...

Wake up, drink tea*

Meander about and help Mum with breakfast for her, dad, uncle, etc (whoever's popped in)

Run errands: go to the shop, buy veggies, wash clothes and hang them, go in search of the 'net, etc

Lunchtime (rice, daal, veggies--always :-))

Try figure out one thing per day (e.g. how to clean out the study/how to pay for 6 months of Internet or if we still have a post box at the post office. Calling a plumber is something that takes all day)

Drink tea

Evening: check out the fruit trees around the house--mangoes, guava, persimmon, pomelo, pears or go for a (short) wander outside

Watch TV if lights are on

Dinner (usually roti and veggies or momo)

Hang out with the folks, sleep

* I never drink tea when I'm not here or with my other family back in the US. It's like "tea=family" and can't be had anywhere else...

Research snippet

a) I've mentioned this before but Papers Past is a brilliant brilliant thing and all my thanks to the people who made it happen (I did say this in person. But can't be said enough)

b) Reading about Maori soldiers (and how they were viewed locally in New Zealand) in WWI, I came across this gem. I think the best bit is where the guy reports some Swiss dude (ok, granted some Swiss dudes know how to climb mts) *taught* a Nepali lad the art of climbing. 

Because obviously what Nepalis who guide mountaineers don't know how to do is climb mountains smile emoticon 

c) distractions abound! You may note this has nothing to do with the actual subject I"m researching (a) but olden times newspapers are such a wonder!

Here's the link to the story about Zurbriggen's Axe

Can I trust what I see (on the internets)?

No.

So, I think this whole: Let's turn X landmark into colours of Y country that has had a terrorist attack is...well, thoughts beyond here especially as this is turning out to be a semester in which I feel overwhelmed and, often, under attack (and thus anxious). 

But, it is something that is done. And it is something that is done for *some* terrorist attacks and not others. And then we seek to see whether it was done for Z attack and are thankful/share that, oh yes, Paris was in solidarity with Lahore (based on the Eiffel Tower allegedly turning into Pakistan's flag. SPOILER ALERT: it didn't)

I guess the point is: a) we shouldn't ask for the Eiffel tower or whatever to change its lights whenever there is an attack 

b) but it seems fair to ask why does it change lights for *some* attacks and not others 

c) it also seems like we could ask what does this sharing of "oh Paris did this" say about us and what we seek (a recognition of common humanity? A sense that Pakistani kids/women matter too?). 

d) I dunno. I have lots of thoughts on this. But I admit I was surprised and then unsurprised that the Eiffel tower in green photo was of when South Africa won the rugby world cup (!) rather than anything to do with Lahore.*

* I'm basing this off Twitter and this source but I think the rest of my a) to d) stands even if it turns out the Eiffel Tower in Pakistani flag picture was accurate. 

The politics of visualization (and seeing) remains fascinating and, in this case, troubling about what it says about "us". 

Escapes (and perceptions)

Since I moved to this town, I foster dogs. I think it was the 6th? 7th? foster that I ended up keeping. She had little/no hair due to various skin illness issues, had a bit of her ear chipped, and was terrified of everything. In the 3 years I've had her, she's grown her fur, is a tiny wee killer (two skunks, numerous small rodents, a possum, an attack on a deer, half a cat, many squirrels), and is massively curious about everything. The shelter listed her as a German Shepherd but there's no sense of "oh, hey, I quite like my human" in her. None. Humans exist to feed her and take her for walks/runs. She is also an escape artist/runner. I live in a house with no fenced yard and so I try take her on walks or put her on a long leash so she can run about in the big park in my back yard. As I am mostly sleepy, generally in my own world, type person and Dog is always "Kill NOW. What can I kill?", there's many times she's run off/escaped.

Today, I think was Dog's most epic escape (so far) (there's time) (my heart might not take more inventive escapes well). Taking advantage of slip in the ice/snow, she did a runner. I went around calling her name. No noise. No sound. Nothing. After scouring pretty much the whole neighborhood, I heard a whimper from near the House of Horror*. Turns out Dog had gone underneath HoH and got stuck. Of course, this didn't prevent her from trying to sniff/explore/etc so we ended up in a situation where Dog was fairly deep underneath this falling down/half fallen down house, it was getting dark and I knew the folks around there wouldn't do well to having some random woman wandering around in their territory.

So, of course, I did the sensible thing. I went home, got my mobile and rang the Fire department to ask for help.

Hahah-no! I crawled under the HoH, expecting any moment the house to fall down OR someone to shoot us, grabbed Dog, took her off her stupid leash and then, grabbing a wriggling Dog like a rugby ball, got us out of there. I walked almost a mile with 35lb Dog in hand. For much of this time, Dog was convinced she had to escape NOW and was wriggling like an eel.

We got home safe, I poured myself a stiff drink (whiskey. The good stuff) and I thought about the incident. If this were New Zealand or Nepal, I'd have tried to ask for help from one of the people whose houses were near the House of Horror. I'd have gone and knocked on their doors. But since this was Southwestern USA, I didn't. Not only didn't I go knock on neighbor's doors, but all the stories we read about strangers shot in garages, driveways, and so on came to mind. The whole time I was crawling under a falling-down house, I wasn't as much worried the house would fall on me or that I'd get a scrape (and probably end up with Tetanus--could still happen!) but that someone would notice the noise and start shooting. I was terrified to the extent that my arms and legs were trembling. This fear is, of course, more about me than about how the people here "really are". I"m sure the folks here would have helped too (maybe) but I didn't even feel I could ask them. There's a different kind of self-making when I am in SWVA than when I am in Nepal or elsewhere.

*House of Horror is a falling down house that exists at the end of my lane. Around it are abandoned/occupied trailers, a campervan, and various pickup trucks. The one time I was near there, a bearded gent came out and told me to "keep your daw-ug away from here" (this was in Year 2 and the dog was Harold, an adorable scamp of a thing) and I've never been back/near since.

On Johnny Walker(s)

Things are heating up on the uni front, with job searches (I'm on two search committees) and slight panic about dodgy technologies during teaching--again, the usual. I have thoughts about the new season of Agent Carter but will wait till it's over before sharing them. In the meantime, here's a classic: my granddad wasn't much of a Bollywood films person (my best memories of him are of us watching cricket and arguing over tactics) but he loved his Scotch. And he loved this film (Pyaasa). The guy who plays the comic barber in this clip is Johnny Walker (the actor, obviously). His story is pretty unusual too--a rags to riches tale often found in Bollywood fantasies but not that often in real Bollywood life.






Unlike the majority of Nepalis, I don't understand Hindi too well. I can get by and can make sense of what's being said (sort of) but the nuances of dialogues pass me by. That being said, this film is one of the best and it's pretty revolutionary for its time. The hero ends up with a prostitute. He denounces materiality and capitalism (well, not in *those* words but...). The songs are divine. If you get a chance, do watch it.

Here's a more romantic song: Hum Aapke Aankhon Me (which I reckon is: in your eyes, I'll place my heart)

And here we go again...(or, welcoming y'all to 2016 with a rant)

It's been a while and this is the semester I'm supposed to get myself organized and get my papers together and get stuff published/sort out another book/etc etc. Hence, it's obviously the best time to start this up again! For now, this will just be observations/random snippets that don't fit on Twitter/things I feel I wanted to get off my chest. The usual, in other words.

It's been a pretty snowy few days. We were promised blizzards and such and I think we got about a foot? a bit less? of snow here in SW Virginia. I discovered that some random pieces of plastic in my garage and realised they were sleds. Dog and I went sledding today.

On the academic side, I'm struggling with a paper that received a relatively favorable (I thought) R&R a few months ago and then, when I did the R&R, it was rejected. I admit I was not the best pleased by this--I thought it was one of my better pieces and discussed stuff that normally doesn't get talked of/about in IR/Political Science/whateveritismyfieldis (IR I think) (maybe). It also took a lot of time and the whole year was basically wasted on this paper while a straight up rejection would have meant I'd have tried (and hopefully published) it elsewhere by now. But, hey, that is academia especially when you do weird stuff on a mainstream-y topic.

I have also been in quite a few meetings and discussions lately and was thinking about a few things with regard to racial/economic/etc ideas of "diversity". Apparently, my university is all on its way to becoming inclusive (their word) and promoting diversity. So far, this has led to some interesting practices that I've noted, one of which is my "Academic Rant of The Week". Here goes (with the caveat this is my observation and not a generalization. In case that caveat is needed. I mean, this is a blog after all so obviously everything is my observation):

Apparently these days, it's totally ok to say things like: "hey, I"m a white guy, I"m not supposed to understand X (critical/non-white theorists/etc)" but if you say "hey, I'm a brown girl. I don't give a flying fuck about that one line in Plato and Aristotle" or even "Look, yes, Plato, Aristotle, blah blah but surely Z and Q are saying interesting things too?", you don't know how to "do political theory".

I'm so so close to going on a mini rant about this in a context that's best not ranted in so...here we go. In many ways, this is about "the canon", right? The canon of political theorists who are all aligned in some dark, dingy, library shelf somewhere and where "we" are all supposed to get our ideas from. But, I went to university in a setting where they didn't give much of a damn about these fellas. One of my theory professors was one of the very few (still one of the very few) folks who asked us to question the mainstream historical narrative of the establishment of the Australian nation-state. I did read Plato, etc and especially a lot of 20th century theorists but we read them in two ways: 1. to see what they themselves might have "hidden" or what we could perhaps discover underlying their accepted thoughts and in relation to the time/context they lived in, and 2. we read these theorists alongside local/Indigenous fictions/films to note how what they said could be questioned. Thus, you question the foundations of "political theory" while also knowing that these fellas (and, of course, it's usually fellas) make up what counts as those "foundations". I don't understand how this is any better or worse than reading a bunch of Plato/Aristotle/Whoever. It's just different. And, I'd argue, if you want real diversity, then you need to acknowledge that not everyone might have had the same/similar educational backgrounds and ways of learning. Indeed, diversity isn't just about adding a woman or adding a person of colour.* Diversity of thought about what is "political theory" might also be helpful for the institution and for students.

Well. I do feel better now that rant is over. Next time, I dunno. Agent Carter? How Dog sleds?

* I have a different rant about this but will save it for another time. 

Living in rural SW Virginia, part I: Get a dog.

It seems like I start off with good intentions of writing but am so sick of writing in general/for "work", that I can't be fussed to come on here and write again. Especially about work/"serious" stuff. Well, the semester's started. I'm teaching a class on International Relations Theory (which has had a drop off of students after the first class so it *might* end up being more of a seminar. This means I will most likely rework my current syllabus, which is (was) geared for a class of 40 or so students). I'm also teaching a class on Global Security. It should be...interesting. I'll write a bit about how they go as we proceed, more to record the experience for FutureMe! in case it's useful. This is unlikely to be of much help/use to yous, I feel but, ah well.

Since I'm horribly late on everything (book proofs due in two weeks; edited book to be edited; two papers to write for the yearly International Studies conference--in less than a month's time!; classes to be prepared for, etc etc), I'll give you a snippet from life here. Dog and I headed out of town yesterday (we are having terrible weather--ice, rain, icy rain) and ended up in a small town nearby. This was at one of those gas stations/shops which have *everything*. I love those shops.

"Miss, you should really lock your car when you park it. People can just get in and drive off"
"I need to leave the window open"
"We....ll (in the way that they say it here. With at least four syllables), if you've got money to throw around. But, don't say I didn't warn you" (this was a complete stranger btw)*
"Yeah, I'll risk it"
"All right then...he good at hunting?" ("he" = Dog. I've not acquired a human hunter whom I leave in the back seat of my car. Though that sounds surprisingly good)
"Yeah, all right. I don't take her hunting"
"One of those liberals?"
"I don't think the dog cares much about politics"
(laughs) "How about you?"
"I don't vote"
"Yeah, not much in it these days" (long discussion of the evils of govt)

These types of interactions happen *all* the time here. Two things: a) Dog is a diplomat for when we wander into small shops/towns in the area. People who would never talk to me, I feel, are very chatty once they see Dog; and b) "I don't vote" seems to mean "you agree with my views that the govt is evil"

You can see Dog here: 

As you can see, Dog is a bit of a mix. There's a group of veterinary students who run an organization that pulls dogs (and cats) from high kill shelters in the area and places them in foster homes. I am one of the foster homes and, before Dog, I had 4 other fosters. The day we went to get Dog, we had our eyes on a boxer mix.** As with most rescues, the group tries to pick out dogs that are adoptable. We got to the pound and there was this ridiculous creature that only had patches of hair and had been at the pound for almost a year. We were told she was skittish, afraid of most things and generally "sweet but no one wants her". Well, after convincing the organization's person (who was superb!), I ended up with Dog as a foster. She was adopted out twice (from me). One time, she was brought back overnight. The other time, she lasted a week before the lady who had adopted her brought her back. 

In the meantime, I went home for summer, came back and Dog was still with the organization. Readers, you know where this story is going. Six months after I first got her from the shelter, I decided to keep her. After long-term medication, she's grown hair (as you can see) and has a (very!) high prey drive and so can't be off leash (ever!). She's not the easiest of dogs as her general mode when outside is "KILL ALL THE THINGS!!!"

The highlight of her life is probably the time there was a deer in my back park (pictured above) and Dog rushed off and grabbed said deer (about twice her size) by the leg. Got kicked. This happened: 

Me: Hello, my dog just bit a deer and got kicked. She's staggering a bit but seems ok.
Vet hospital: How big is your dog?
Me: 30lbs
Vet hospital: (silence): can you say that again? 
Me: 30 lbs
VH: and she went after a deer?
Me: Yes
VH: (laughter) If she's walking, she'll be all right. Just keep an eye on her. 

It all ended up ok but, in the time I've had her, Dog's run off heaps of times (mostly when I'm half asleep/not hanging on to the lead with all my strength when she spots a squirrel), made it to DC and back with me this past summer (she was a star in our street in DC, where I lived for 2 months) and tends to hoover up any/every-thing we find on the streets when we walk. During winter, we are in the town more (the back park is dark and vaguely creepy by 4pm) and Dog generally hates other dogs if they venture too close to us. 

In short, I think I'd have been heaps more productive (maybe have had Book 3 out by now?) without Dog but, hey, if you plan to move from a city to a tiny town where you know no one, a dog is great. 


* I bought my car for $1200 off a Canadian postdoc who was heading off to Japan, with his wife. It's a 2000 Ford Thingy and is built like a tank. As I'm a fairly new driver (more on this in a later post), it's probably not the best car for me but, hey, it works and I don't drive much. 

**The boxer also got saved another time. Not all dogs in this area are as lucky.  

On experts and the construction of terrorism

So this happened. Steven Emerson, a person who has written books on terrorism and has his research firm (investing terrorism, of course) said that Birmingham is not just no-go zone but a no-go city. Here's the Guardian story on it and the video:





He later apologised and said he'd made a mistake but let's think a bit about this:

1. This is someone who made this claim in a well-known and very widely-watched TV network. The apology, most likely, won't be seen by many. So, for Fox News viewers, this was fact--that Birmingham has no non-Muslims (leaving aside the question of how we've equated "having Muslims" with "undesirable").

2. Yeah, he said that. This is someone who has talked to US government officials, etc. How can such a level of ignorance proliferate? Well, it's what *seems* right--Europeans have "Muslim problems" (a term used by more than one of my students in the past year or so). So, hey, might as well say it. 24-hr news = minimal fact-checking, maximum opinions and speculation.

3. Events like that in Paris actually benefit not just the perpetrators but also the media. How? Well, it's obvious--the perpetrators realize they can get heaps of publicity. The media also realizes the same. Terrorism sells.

Going back to Emerson for a bit, he also said that there are parts of London where Muslims run about making sure everyone's dressed properly Muslim-like. He didn't apologise for saying this.

If there's a tiny beam of light in all this, the hashtag #Foxnewsfacts on Twitter was hilarious. However, the point remains that this shouldn't have had to happen. And, again, my point no. 1 above. 

"Bring yer togs, mate!"

I've been writing about language and the fun(ny) things you can do with language. My first language was, surprisingly enough, Thai. My father was at university when I made my way into the world and he was preparing to write his Masters thesis in Thai. Hence, everyone at home spoke Thai. My mum, still now, speaks Thai very well but her English is iffy (never having had to use it, you see).

Well, anyway. My bit on language today was about postcolonial theorists and what they think of English (or French or any other "colonizing language"). I'm not sure what I want to say here. I'm writing about decolonialising so I guess the question would be how can we decolonize language-use. Dismantle the way we write and think of something new. But, how? I'll leave that as a question for now and just point towards this map.

It's a map of regional Australian dialects. I went to undergraduate in Far North Queensland (which, for those unfamiliar with Australia, is considered pretty much far out there by the rest of Australia) and then did my Masters (and lived afterwards) in Sydney. The cultures are very different. The populations are very different. And the language is very different.

As I found out when, as a newly-arrived 17-year old, I was told the sentence that forms the title of today's post as folks were getting ready to head off on a road trip. But, what was I supposed to bring?!

2015 is a good year for blogging (I hope)

It's an odd day to revive the blog. It's blustery (winds of up to 30mph) and very cold ("feels like -10 degrees F" with an actual temperature of 4 degrees F) tonight. I'm sitting at my coffee table (every other surface is strewn with books and papers for other things) trying to finish up an Enclyclopedia entry on, of all things, "Colonialism and Internal Colonialism". For which I have a grand total of 5,000 words to work with. It's been pretty dire.

Then, there is the shooting in Paris. You can do a quick Google and read all about that elsewhere. I want to just post this here (I posted it on Facebook but figured it's best to annoy other people--the general public, as it were):

So, have we just given up condemning/reporting (had to dig into the "Africa" section of the Beeb for this) killings that happen outside of "the West"? Or, is it because this doesn't have the romance of plucky-newspaper-fighting-for-free-speech? It does have plucky young people lining up to protect their fellows/etc. 

In short (or, in long): who do "we" identify with (Charlie!) = our perceptions of who is a(t) threat (US! and those-other people *are* the threat) = formation of suspect communities/continuation of discrimination against specific people. /end rant.

This is the news story that started it off: 37 killed by a bomb in Yemen. 

Future posts--I'll try be fairly regular--will, like before, note my observations about life here where I live, have stories of Dog and comments on (some) news stories and (a lot of) popular culture. 

On absurdity and inverting the norm

Been a while, eh? In the meantime, I've submitted my first-ever solo book manuscript to the publishers and finished up another (edited) and sent *that* to another publisher. I've had my sister visit (and she's still here) and we've proceeded to explore the byways of this part of the United States (details another time) but I'm popping in now to share a couple of things:

1. This is a list of Monty Python sketches that are the favourites of various well-known (in varying degrees) people. Almost all of them point out the anarchic chaos that was central to much of Python but is it Neil Gaiman who encapsulates well what I think of them: the anarchy and chaos but also the unfamiliar-in-the-familiar. In other words, you think you know what will happen next but it doesn't happen the way you think it will. To me, this is a useful reminder that what may seem obvious to one person (social collective) is not so to others. I try make this the central point in my teaching but it's usually more difficult than it sound, especially when the thing you are teaching is national security or terrorism when the students think they know who are the baddies (and it's never "us")

2. As a fan of men in suits myself, I appreciate this!

Cuts (Australian)

A return to the more "serious" stuff now: I've been following the Australian budget and discussions over it. It's actually quite shocking how "mainstream" the major Australian newspapers (especially the Australian) are over this--the blame for whinging and not accepting realities seems to have fallen upon Labor (the opposition). This is absurd as it's a budget that cuts funding to the vulnerable. E.g. folks have to pay to visit their GPs now, which they never had to before; Universities can set their own fees for courses, which means some courses might disappear altogether as being "not cost effective". And we all know those won't be the "real science" courses though one of the key areas cut is also funding to science research. But it's also interesting as Australia has a manageable (compared to the US) budget deficit and the economy is doing quite well. And, yet, there have been cuts in social welfare and climate-related issues--$80 billion in long-term cuts just to health and education.

To me, the issue is a good one to follow because, while Australia is similar to the US in many ways, its opposition (generally toothless lately) is actually making a fair effort to protest these cuts to social welfare. Many of the general public are angry (and protesting). There seems to be more of an awareness that "we" shouldn't let the government do this sort of thing. Though, of course, that is what happens generally during full on neoliberal/austerity reforms and, yet, nothing changes and the cuts become normalized over time, creating a society of Haves and Have-nots in which the increasing inequality is brushed under the carpet. Just like us here, in fact.

For those interested in reading about the 2014 Australian budget, the Guardian has a whole bunch of stories here. 

Weddings! (or, just one wedding)

I'm currently in Marietta, GA (slightly outside of Atlanta) for a friend's wedding. I've known said friend since undergrad, when I was a wee confused kid who'd landed up in far north Queensland and lucked out in finding some really wonderful people to hang out with. She's also provided me with some info about one of my alter egos (the marine biologist) as she's a sea/ocean/water (whatever we call it) geologist (she doesn't know I have alter egos). But, that's not my point. My point is: this was a wedding in which I knew NO ONE. None. Zero people. Except the bride and obviously the bride's not going to have time to stand around and hold my hand and make sure I didn't flounder in the waters of social oceans (dreadful analogy/metaphor/whatever we call it there). Instead, I was left on my own and am not sure how I did (not too well, I think, from a conventional social behaviour sense) but can say I had a marvellous time. So here's what happened:
I was placed at a table where there were 5 people (out of a table which seated 8). I was the only female (I later found out some of the lads were supposed to bring their wives and girlfriends but didn't--who knows why!) and I was the only person that didn't draw, write, own, edit comic books. In fact, I think I can name the number of comic book artists/writers I know on the fingers of one hand and have fingers left over. Oh and I know very little about So Bad They Are Awesome '80s films (the wedding songs were almost all from the '80s and there was a lot of 80s films discussions going on) and I'd just come off a 14hr buses/train journey+2 hr bus journey from Atlanta to Marietta (for a distance of 20 some miles. Yeah public transport!) so my comprehension/concentration skills, already fairly minimal, were shot.
And, yet, as I said, I had a great time. Why, you ask? Well, I think the main reason was that it was like hanging out with people I know. Someone would start off by talking about Thor and the conversation would jump from Helmsworth, Chris to ancient Norse myths to what they have in other religions/cultures to how women were portrayed in the comic book Thor vs movie Thor and then back to how ancient people conceptualized "men" and end with a joke. There were no rules but also everyone KNEW stuff. Romans? Yeah, they were killed by (long explanation)...Oh no, Romans were the ones who (another different explanation)...man, those Romans (joke). It was the sort of thing where your brain works to keep up and then you feel a bit energized afterwards. There was also no filter (ok, that was mainly me) as things like: "Oh, goodbye. Nice to meet you. Hope you have a good trip back. Gosh can we add yet another platitude to that? But, wait, Don't forget the platypus." made perfect sense (none of us really drank anything apart from copious amounts of coffee). My last words to them? (as I was worriedly waiting to figure out if the shuttle to the hotel had left without me on it and they were asking if they should wait with me, even though they had hours of driving ahead): "No, no worries. I'll just stay here and haunt this bloody place as a ghost."
Answer: That's a pretty perfect answer.
I mean, it's rare anyone says that to me. My uni friends would have been all: that Priya, she's so weird. Here, the folks thought that I'm sure (and thought I was rude, too, since I spent quite a fair bit of time trying not to fall asleep over the table) but didn't say it. And kept on keeping on even when it was obvious I wasn't doing much to uphold my end of the convos.
[This blog has gone from my observations about the news/uni stuff to my observations about me and my thrilling personal life. Let's just say it's observations on/about anything?]
ETA:  To point out that I'm sure folks *thought* I was weird but didn't *say* it. I mean, I was operating on 5hrs of sleep for the previous 48 so, yes, high on adrenaline and coffee and sheer nervousness at knowing No One At All. 

You...(not) talking to me?

For the past few months, I’ve been going around a fair bit with another person. Said person is just over 6ft tall and not Asian and a man. He's from Europe (Austria) so has an accent. The reason I bring all these identity markers up here is that I’ve found it interesting to see how people react to each of us. For me, I have noticed that shopkeepers, service personnel, cashiers, librarians, etc all talk to me more than to him. They chitchat, asking questions about the book/thing I’ve bought or just general convo about the weather (we love the weather here. We’re almost British in how much we talk about it). For him, it’s people at pubs/bars/restaurants and also (we’re both at university) at uni. The most interesting difference I’ve noted is how many people at uni ask him about what his research is on while people generally talk to me about…yes, weather or student quirks or something that is unrelated to my research. 

In general university settings, folks from other departments and colleges talk to him usually, not me even if we are stood together. I think this is partly upon me----I do not exude charm or friendliness and find large (or largish) social situations quite stressful so am probably stood there looking as though I'm suffering through it all. If there’s someone else around, I’m happy to let them take up the slack of talking while I stand around and try to fade into the nearest wall. He, on the other hand, is laid back and casual and enjoys talking to university people*. But I think, too, our differing experiences indicate the gendered nature of certain types of spaces and places here: folks in shops, libraries, animal rescues, etc tend to be women and especially local women. From talking to some of my department’s administrative staff, I’ve realized that quite a few of the women here tend to be self conscious about their accents and a bit intimidated when they are talking to someone else, especially if the someone else is a foreign academic. “I feel the way I speak is funny”, as one of my department’s staff people said it. Also, the university settings where my friend tends to be talked to/with more are mainly populated by male faculty. These men seem to be more comfortable talking to other men, especially if they are from engineering or computing science (two of the biggest departments at my university).

There really isn't any grand conclusion to draw from this but just something that I found interesting...observation of trifles, as it were. Which was (and is) sort of the theme of this blog. At which I'll try to be more frequent in the future (but then I always say this, don't I?)

* Definitely not to locals, though--there's a story for another day there about foreign expectations of "the US South" and attitudes therein.