Opinions, art, debate
And on top of everything else, my birthday video just dropped:
People get re-trained extremely fast. The leader of our DEI program (which was recently renamed) told us at the training on Tuesday that we “shouldn’t play the oppression Olympics.” I cheered loudly while everybody else listened in confused silence.
The purpose of the training was to teach us to shut down conversations in which people want to air their grievances against “the state of our democracy” in department meetings. Needless to say, I participated actively and gave all the right answers.
Every time a katsap does something evil, Ukrainians get the blame.
For those who don’t know, Simonyan is one of the most famous propagandists in Russia. And “katsap” is an ethnic slur for a Russian. We’ve been laughing over this joke for three days, it’s really funny.
I have seen this montage in my news feed at least two dozen times today:
These images are supposed to prove that Meloni hates Trump and demonstrated that at her televised meeting with him. Anybody can watch the actual encounter and know that it was a total love fest between Meloni and Trump. Anybody over the age of 4 can also figure out that it’s very easy to clip a bunch of images to create an impression one hated one’s own birthday celebration.
Still, these images are gleefully reposted by crowds of people. That people would so gladly assist in being bamboozled and misled always stuns me. How is it helpful to not know the truth? A pastiche of lies won’t change reality. Isn’t it better to know what actually took place?
Apparently, not.
My OB-GYN thinks it’s a good idea to send people automated phone messages to wish them happy birthday. The possibility that getting unexpected calls from one’s doctors might create anxiety does not occur.
And at 8:15 in the morning! Maybe the birthday person wanted to sleep in.
In any case, a good year. Started appearing on YouTube, made 3 international trips, started to learn German, got Neoliberal Love to a finishing stretch, did some excellent reading. Of course, also developed diabetes, my department is getting closed, and was saddled with endless medical stuff since July. But the endless medical stuff ended the day before yesterday when the surgeon said he never wants to see me again, and I’m very ready for a new year in life.
As I’ve been saying, we should not interfere in a citizen’s relationship with his country. It’s none of our business, and we end up looking like fools.
Does Sen. Van Hollen have no American citizens he should be working for?
There’s zero evidence that anybody in Latin America has been thankful for all the meddling we’ve done on their lives since 1898.
ChatGPT finally learned to adapt to me and is now now giving me right-wing recommendations for everything. It took months to bend it in that direction.
There might be a reason why I think all movie actors are talentless hacks while almost all actors on Audible are acting geniuses.
It’s kind of easier to appreciate their craft if I don’t have to look at them.
Emily Wharton’s relatives are horrified by her plan to marry Ferdinand Lopez. He is not a British gentleman, and the Wharton family is convinced that the marriage will be a disaster. Emily disagrees because Ferdinand is living like (or, as we would say today, identifies as) a British gentleman, and that’s just as good. Or is it?
To her horror, Emily soon discovers that living like and identifying as are not the same as being. A British gentleman is a historically, culturally and temperamentally circumscribed entity. Try as he might, Ferdinand cannot keep the pretense of being “just like” one but unfortunately he and Emily are already married, and she cannot escape.
Unlike many 19th-century authors, Trollope was a master at creating profound, nuanced and memorable male characters. The European novel is replete with interesting female heroines, which is not surprising since, in the 18th and 19th centuries, novels were written primarily for female audiences. We all know the names of Madame Bovary, Anna Karenina, Fortunata and Jacinta, Eugénie Grandet, Jane Eyre, Clarissa, Pamela, and many others. Of course, there are also Robinson Crusoe, David Copperfield, Oliver Twist and Mauprat but one of them is a shipwreck, two are children, and the fourth you probably never heard of.
Trollope buckles the trend and gives us a large cast of complicated, strong, sometimes nasty and often deeply admirable men. In The Prime Minister, we once again meet my favorite male character of all times, Plantagenet Palliser, the Duke of Omnium. Trollope was great at creating meaningful character names. You don’t need to think hard to understand the social and economic status of somebody called the Duke of Omnium who lives at Gatherum Castle.
In a previous post, I talked about Plantagenet Palliser when he was a young husband who goes to heroic lengths to save his marriage to a capricious, self-indulgent woman. In The Prime Minister, Palliser is now my age and holds the highest political office in the land. His wife is as emotionally incontinent and demanding as always and tries to meddle aggressively in the way the Prime Minister runs his government. He has to keep her lovingly at bay while preserving his sense of duty and dignity both in his marriage and his public career.
I cannot think of another author who wrote about male friendships, male mentorships, and male interests as much and as beautifully as Trollope. What it means to be a husband, a father, a brother, a colleague were the issues that he explored time and again in his beautiful, long novels. The world of Trollope’s books is long gone but what a fascinating world it was. I am not sure we have gained much by leaving it so completely behind.
Another adventure in diabetic eating is below:
N likes unusual meats, and this is ground elk. Ground meats are boring, so I add a lot of herbs and spices. There are also carrots, mushrooms, spinach and parsley.
And yes, I eat these large very hot peppers like dessert. N doesn’t like spicy food, so I do my hotness factor separately.
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