Almost none of these protests cited the one and only important reason capital punishment should be immediately and permanently abolished everywhere: capital punishment is wrong. Plain and simple. It’s wrong. Black or not black, fair trial or unfair trial, guilty or not guilty, capital punishment is still morally and ethically indefensible. So I don’t care if Troy Davis was not guilty of killing a police officer. And I don’t care if he received an unfair trial because of incompetent attorneys or a prejudiced jury. All I care about is that Troy Davis was a human being and that no man has the right to willfully take the life of any other unless his own life is in immediate mortal danger. Capital punishment does not meet that standard and never will.

When I was a student at East Lake High in the early ’90s, the most notorious and reviled teacher at our school was Ms. Whipple. She was legendary. She taught English at several grade levels, and every student feared seeing her name on his class schedule. It was seen as a sort of death sentence. For those poor souls assigned to Ms. Whipple’s class, each day brought some new agony. I know because I was assigned to Ms. Whipple’s English class on my first day of tenth grade.

Some tales of awful teachers are pure myth. That is, you may find that an infamous teacher is, in truth, simply tough but fair, or even nice. Ms. Whipple was neither. Her reputation was earned. I learned this the first day. She carried herself with a degree of haughty scorn that, in and of itself, made her unlikeable. Add to that a level of verbal cruelty to students that occasionally bordered on sadistic, and it became clear why she was so despised. I felt at the time that nobody who enjoyed human society could act that way.

Ms. Whipple’s rules were bizarre and unreasonable, to the extent that following them proved difficult by mere virtue of their incomprehensibility. If one wrote his name on the wrong line on his paper, or put her name in the wrong place relative to the date, he could be sure to receive an embarrassing public reprimand. She seemed impossible to satisfy. Her assignments were simply stupid, and I found it difficult to not feel that if something was not worth doing, it was certainly not worth doing well.

The one instance I can recall of her assigning a straightforward and traditional task cemented her reputation in my mind. We were to write a book report. Fair enough. As she went around the room we were asked what book we would like to write about, but when I told her my choice she replied, “that’s too hard for you”, and chose another title for me. Now, if it  had been any other teacher I might have been humiliated at, in essence, being told I was dumb. But I didn’t respect her enough to care. I would like think we all understood that Ms. Whipple’s opinions were not a true reflection of our merits, and that she was, in essence, just a sadistic bully whose abuse reflected her own self-conscious shortcomings. But I must regretfully acknowledge that some of my classmates were genuinely hurt by the frequent put-downs.

After about six weeks of suffering, we were surprised one morning by a visit from a school administrator who told us that he was sorry, but we were all, for an undisclosed reason, being moved to another English teacher’s class. The room burst into frantic and sustained applause. Many students who, moments before, had been the most silent, frightened victims of Ms. Whipple’s cruelty, now openly cursed her, and shouted at her on their way out of the room. The vehemence of this verbal retribution was so extreme that I almost pitied her. I said nothing, but I certainly participated in the jubilant rejoicing.

Perhaps a year later, a close friend and I played an embarrassing and somewhat gross (though not dangerous) practical joke on Ms. Whipple. Several of her students watched us prepare our revenge and observed as the childish prank unfolded. These witnesses could easily have identified us and turned us in, but none ever did. They no doubt took some satisfaction at seeing their tormentor receive a taste of her own bitter medicine.

In my nearly twenty-year academic career, Ms. Whipple stands out as the worst teacher I ever had.

I recently did an analysis of the top American exports to our 20 leading foreign markets, and found little evidence that an undervalued Chinese currency hurts American exports to third countries. This is mostly because there is little head-to-head competition between America and China. In less than 15 percent of top export products — for example, network routers and solar panels — are American and Chinese corporations competing directly against one another. By and large, we are going after entirely different product markets; we market things like airplanes and pharmaceuticals while China sells electronics and textiles.

In essence, Wu is claiming that China and the USA are not in direct competition because we each produce different things.  Wu’s analysis struck me because I have seen this argument a lot recently, and I believe it misses something extremely important.  If we translate Wu’s premise to another situation it looks like this:

Mr. Smith is an architect with three decades of experience.  He does quality work and draws a good salary.  One day the president of the firm comes in and lays off Mr. Smith, telling him that the firm has brought in a new, younger architect named Brad who is fresh out of school and who will work for much, much less.  Mr. Smith cannot find another job in his field because of his age and salary requirements, so he takes a job bagging groceries at Publix.  By Wu’s logic, Mr. Smith and Brad are not competing head-to-head because Brad is an architect and Mr. Smith is a bag boy.

I flatly reject this argument that Wu and others make because it forgets that the USA used to make the things that China now makes.  Go to your kitchen drawer and look for your Swing-a-Way can-opener.  If you bought it a few years ago you will see the words “Made in USA” stamped on it; if you bought it within the last year or so you will see it was made in China.  China IS our direct competition because the manufacturing jobs that have sustained our economy since the Industrial Revolution are moving to China.  Almost all the products you have in your home–your television, your furniture, your bed sheets, your can opener–would have once been made in the United States, but are today more likely to have been made in China.

If we consider the myriad products that America used to make (not just the current “top export products”), and then consider the hundreds, even thousands, of people who used to work in each of the factories that produced those products, it is not surprising that unemployment in the United States is close to ten percent.  The value of China’s currency is not the only problem, of course.  Chinese workers are simply willing to work for less money than American workers for a variety of reasons.  But Mark Wu, and others like him, want us to believe that the enormous trade imbalance between China and the USA is not so important, while, in fact, it is extremely important.  There will never be enough service jobs to employ every American worker.  Unless we want to see permanently high unemployment in the Unites States we will need to seriously confront the dire issue of Chinese competition.

One of our goals while visiting New York was to try many of the various foodstuffs associated with that city, and to visit a couple of its famous restaurants.  Sardi’s had been a unique experience, but the food was not even close to being worth its high price.  Maxie’s was less outrageously expensive, but the food was still not outstanding.  On Friday morning, our third day in the city, we decided to just be simple.  I got a slice of New York-style pizza and Miriam got some Indian food.  My pizza was okay, but no better than you can get at any pizza restaurant anywhere in America.  Miriam thought her meal was the best she had our entire trip, and it was a relative bargain.  Once again we bought cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery.

We walked the bleak subterranean corridor from Grand Central to catch the 42nd Street shuttle to Times Square, where we caught the subway to Herald Square.  Our destination was the Empire State Building, but I noticed that we were passing by Macy’s, and I thought Miriam might enjoy it, so I suggested we go inside.  Any department store you have ever been in in your life, with the possible exception of Herrod’s in London, is nothing compared to this Macy’s.  The only other store I have been in that comes close is the Chicago Macy’s that’s in the old Marshall Field building.  This place is enormous, occupying at least eight floors.  Though it was only the end of September, Miriam wanted to see the Christmas decorations, and we ascended escalators from floor to floor trying to find them.  Amazingly, the escalators there are made of wood.  Finally, at the very top we found the Christmas wonderland.  It was insane.  So many things, and so many things of each thing.  I thought Miriam was going to lose it.  If you’re looking for a vast assortment of gnomes, or if you want to high-five a stuffed polar bear, go to the Macy’s in New York City.  (If you’re looking for a giant stuffed Unicorn or Pegasus, however, you’ll have to go to Chicago.)

The Empire State Building, only a block or so away, is immediately visible upon exiting the Macy’s.  Indeed, it’s visible from all over the city.  We knew well in advance that we wanted to see the city from high atop this great old skyscraper.  The only drawback, of course, is that it doesn’t offer a particularly compelling view of the Empire State Building itself.  (For that you’d have to go to, say the Top of the Rock.)  The lobby of the Empire State Building is tall and elegant, but not especially large for a building its size.  Visitors wishing to go to the observation deck are routed to an area that must take up half of the ground floor, where $20 tickets can be purchased, before being funneled Disney World-style through labyrinthine channels leading to a bank of elevators.  The special elevators to the observation deck move very fast.  The display counts ten floors at a time.  Somewhere above the eightieth floor you switch to another elevator to reach the eighty-sixth floor observation deck.

The observation deck is open, and visitors are kept from being blown away by a tall fence that curves in to discourage BASE jumpers and the bereft.  I was disappointed that, unlike the previous day which was clear and bright, Friday was smoggy, and the views from the top were limited.  But the area in our immediate vicinity was easily visible, and I snapped many photos, including this one looking down upon the area outside of Macy’s from which I took the above photo of the Empire State Building.  To the south I could just make out the Statue of Liberty behind the downtown skyscrapers.  Nearer to me I could see the iconic Flatiron Building.  To the east I could see the Chrysler Building, the river, and the bridges over to Queens.  Midtown was close and clear, and the old Pan-Am and GE Buildings were visible, too.

I am not a New Yorker, of course, nor do I ever intend to identify myself as one.  But I am one who appreciates beautiful architecture.  So, looking west from the top of the Empire State Building, the area around Madison Square Garden caught my eye.  Obviously, aside from the great old post office next to it, the new Penn Station/Madison Square Garden complex is ugly, especially compared to what used to be there.  As I wrote previously, present-day Manhattan stands over the graves of its once great buildings.  On the spot Madison Square Garden occupies today, the most beautiful train station in America once stood.  Penn Station was built in 1910, and until it was demolished in 1963 it was a masterpiece of public architecture.  The present-day Penn Station is so tragically inferior as to be offensive.  What you see in my picture at left once looked like this.

The same short-sighted foolishness that destroyed the old Pennsylvania Station has destroyed countless other great old buildings.  We can never get these places back.  Even if someone wanted to rebuild Penn Station in its former image, the cost would be so astronomically high that the first shovel of dirt would never get turned.  For all the money we spend on new architecture each year, we always seem to go the cheap route today.  Never again would anyone spend the kind of money it would take to make a new Empire State Building, Wrigley Building, or any other architectural gem.  (I will discuss this topic further when I write about Cleveland.)  Don’t misunderstand me; I do believe that good buildings are still being designed.  But does anyone think that a generic tower of reflective glass is beautiful?   Look at the picture to the left and tell me which is the better building: the plain glass box or the masterpiece behind it?  In great cities like Berlin war brought the demise of beautiful old buildings.  But war is a different kind of foolishness, and some of those buildings are being reconstructed, in spite of the cost.  Verily, there is a time to build up and a time to break down.  But we too often lack the wisdom to know when is the time to preserve what we have built.  It’s too late for the old Penn Station, for the old St. Petersburg Pier, for the old Gainesville Courthouse.  But it’s never too late to start thinking about what we still have worth keeping.

I understand that people aren’t thrilled about airport security screeners gawking.  And I understand that most people don’t enjoy being frisked.  And as one who has flown several times a year for the past decade, I understand the frustration all travelers experience at the airport when forced to remove shoes, belts, and keys.  Flying with a notebook computer or any sort of health and beauty product is a hassle, too.

But for those freaking out today, refusing to be frisked or scanned, I say get over it.  You do not have a God-given right to fly on airplanes unsearched.  It’s embarrassing.  I get it.  But the safety of hundreds of passengers is more important than your modesty.  It sucks that we live in a world in which a small group of determined terrorists ruin travel for all of us.  But that’s reality.  And the same people griping tonight about airport scanners are the exact same ones who would scream and rant if, God forbid, terrorists did sneak a bomb on a plane.

I’ve been patted down at airports on several occasions, and as recently as two months ago the security guard pulled me out of the line and ran his hands all over me.  It isn’t fun.  But neither is dying in a fiery explosion.

The same foolish impulse that animates the men who snatch baseballs from one another in the stands, and the boys who race each other from section to section in greedy anticipation, is the same one that prompts fans to interfere with balls in play.  The infamous Steve Bartman incident is the best known, but others occur almost daily, with fans reaching over walls, gloves in hand, to scoop up fair balls.

This obsession reached its logical climax in Arlington last night, when a fan at Rangers Park tumbled from the upper deck to the stands below.  He had been reaching for a foul ball and lost his balance.  He dropped thirty feet onto fans below.  Fans in the park screamed when they saw it happen.  The home plate umpire threw his hands over his head in horror.  The television announcers were similarly terrified.  The game was halted for fifteen minutes, and many players were visibly distressed, with several of the Cleveland fielders clearly mouthing prayers.

Everyone loves a souvenir.  But is a $16 baseball really worth all that?

The response from the women of the “Daily Show” reads as earnest and heartfelt, but if one of these women did feel the environment was hostile, it would be difficult for them to speak up without jeopardizing their career.

The problem here, of course, is the singular “they”.  This common mistake is generally found in situations in which the sex of the subject or object of the sentence is unknown: “I don’t know who my new teacher will be, but I hope they are nice”.  The singular “they” is a self-conscious and incorrect effort to avoid sexist language.  But in the excerpt above the sex of the subject is explicitly noted, and given the theme of this story, it is odd to find such an error.  Leo should have written, “…it would be difficult for her to speak up without jeopardizing her career”.  (A good writing teacher would also have a problem with the vague pronoun reference of “it would be difficult”, since “it” doesn’t appear to refer to anything.  You may have noticed that I don’t worry much about that.)

Until the otherwise genderless English language invents a neuter pronoun (besides “it”), this problem will persist.  One correct way to form my example sentence above would be to simply pick “he”, even if the teacher may be female.  Alternatively, one could write “he or she”, though that sometimes leads to wordy constructions.  My writing teacher, Professor McCrea, would advise students whenever possible to “make … nouns that refer to general classes plural and then replace those nouns with the plural (and sexually neutral) pronoun they“.  In that case, Leo would need only to eliminate the words “one of”, and change “career” to “careers”.  But Professor McCrea would agree with me that Leo’s sentence does not allow this without altering the meaning.  The danger of one woman speaking out is central to Leo’s message.

Meanwhile, don’t bother searching for grammatical errors on my webpage; I promise there are more than a few.  I am not a professional writer.

I am extremely troubled by the misinformation–lies, really–being spread about the proposed health care reform slowly winding its way through Congress.  The misinformation takes many forms, but at its heart lies a straw man.  That is, some of those who strongly oppose health care reform are deliberately distorting what reform would mean in an effort to make change appear undesirable.  So, for example, they make outrageous claims that, under the Obama plan, the elderly will face forced euthanasia (or any sort of euthanasia), when, in fact, all the proposal would do is give patients the option of discussing advanced directives regarding life-support should they ever suffer a perpetual coma.  There is nothing wrong or even scary about that.  In fact, in the wake of the Terry Schiavo calamity, you would think that everyone would be in favor of such a logical proposal.  But, by misinterpreting what the legislation would do, those making false claims are able to frame the debate in new terms.  If all you hear are people screaming at their congressmen at town hall meetings, you, too, might walk away with the wrong ideas of what health care reform would look like.  (There is a curious similarity between some of those screaming about health care and others screaming about President Obama’s citizenship.)

Another common refrain amongst those who–for whatever reason–oppose reform is that citizens of other nations which have some form of national health care (“socialized medicine!”) or single-payer program (which isn’t even on the table here in the USA, though, mark my words, it will happen in my lifetime) receive much worse care than Americans.  Generally, these arguments point to the “long waits” that patients must endure before receiving essential treatment.  I don’t doubt that patients needing elective operations occasionally have to wait their turns.  But I strongly suspect that the more horrifying claims are greatly exaggerated.  Moreover, when you consider that many tens of millions of Americans are not able to receive those procedures at all, waiting a few weeks doesn’t seem that bad.

But, others who claim that “America has the greatest health care system in the world”, which is demonstrably false if you use almost any measurable criteria, like to make different, more terrifying false claims.  A hilarious one appears in the latest Investors Business Journal.  It suggests that the British public health system is terrible because of “rationing”, and that “the stories of people dying on a waiting list or being denied care altogether read like a horror movie script”.  If, the article states, the bureaucrats don’t believe your life is worth saving, they cut you off, and “you get to curl up in a corner and die”.  Now, you might expect such a shabbily written and poorly researched article to cite ridiculous and unreliable tabloids like the New York Post, and this one does.  And you might also expect it make the sinister insinuation that American patients will be “compelled” to pull their own plugs, so to speak, and this one does that, as well.  But you probably would not have believed that anyone who receives money to write words could make a mistake this stupid:

People such as scientist Stephen Hawking wouldn’t have a chance in the U.K., where the National Health Service would say the life of this brilliant man, because of his physical handicaps, is essentially worthless.

Investors Business Journal probably ought to have asked British scientist Stephen Hawking, who lives in the United Kingdom, where they have the National Health Service, if he agreed with that premise.  He would probably have told them that he “wouldn’t be here today if it were not for the NHS”.  That is, in fact, exactly what he told The Guardian.  The ignorance of facts displayed by the Investors Business Journal is not unlike that demonstrated by those fools who claim that, even if President Obama was born in Hawaii–which they’re not willing to concede–he cannot be an American citizen because his father was Kenyan, which is clearly wrong.

It is, of course, appropriate to discuss what this health care reform will cost and how we will pay for it.  And it is entirely understandable that many who oppose abortion would be troubled to think of their money going to cover abortions.  I resent that even a penny of my tax dollars goes to pay for chemicals that the state of Florida uses to kill human beings strapped to a table.  So, their concerns are fair, and we should discuss our options.  But intellectual dishonesty makes legitimate debate impossible, and the fanatics who insist nothing is wrong with what we have, or who seek to make the perfect the enemy of the good, are only making things worse.

On her stream today, Gato Ranch, whose real name is Jana, posted something that I found disturbing.  The Gainesville Sun has taken one of her photographs, and, without her permission, posted it on their webpage in conjunction with a story.  Worse still, in spite of the fact that the stolen picture had her real name and a copyright symbol, the Sun gave her no credit, and posted a link for readers to buy the image.  From them!  It is the most blatant copyright violation I’ve ever seen.

Jana tells me that she notified the Gainesville Sun of their violation, but this isn’t the first time they have done this to her, so one must assume that this is par for the course with them.  She doesn’t believe that they copied the picture from Flickr, but from MySpace, which explains the low resolution.

I’ve never thought much of the Gainesville Sun.  In fact, I have a hate-hate relationship with that paper.  They publish unsolicited Craigslist-style rants in their letters section, which I feel violates all standards of journalism; they have been adversarial in their coverage of WUFT-FM, where I work; they have misquoted me in articles, and acted offended when I alerted them to that fact.  They are simply a bad newspaper.  Now I see they are also criminals.

Shame on you, Gainesville Sun.

So, I have a polite request for anyone who reads the Sun online:  if you ever see any photographs you recognize as mine, please let me know.  If it can happen to Jana, it can happen to me.