Urban Semiotic

Hello Goodbye

2009-07-01T11:36:32Z

The last we heard of him was a picture postcard from Mazatlan, on the Pacific coast of Mexico, containing a message of two words: "Hello -- Goodbye!" and no address.

]]> Boles Blogs Network in random order during July as my time and attention are temporarily pulled elsewhere.

Our own Gordon Davidescu will help hold down the fort in my absence by writing new articles -- so keep reading and searching and clicking and commenting!

I will be checking in periodically to manage comments and answer my Inbox, so I'm around without being here.

Hello Goodbye!

Procrastination is Repressed Rage

2009-06-30T11:25:21Z

I read something the other day -- I have since lost the link and the exact wording of the argument -- but the notion went a little something like this, "Procrastination is Repressed Rage."

]]> wave of recognition revealing an unspoken truth.

Those lightbulb events are rare and cherished and I have been pondering the idea of -- "I'll get to it when I can" and "I loathe you" -- being synonymous.

My least favorite people in the world are The Passive-Aggressives who meander in and out of life and the land of the dead with false smiles on their facades and hatred in their hearts. You can never pin them down to anything or get them to commit to a single idea, let alone a final accomplishment.

I'm an "I'll do it right now" sort because I know when I turn around, I'll have a whole load of other things to mash through before the day is over -- so why delay what can be done right now? I never let things pile up. I may have a cluttered desk, but my mind is clear.

If procrastination really is a cover for repressed rage -- is the rage being expressed in the procrastination, or is the procrastination the overflow valve containing the fury?

Mistaken Memes and the Truth that Never Was

2009-06-29T11:45:42Z

We are required to always accept new information because we never know when we'll find out what we thought we always knew was true, never was. I am still amazed to learn that in Southern pockets of the United States that many people viciously, and wrongly, believe that Barack Obama is a Muslim when he is not and never was.

]]> repeatedly proven false.

How do we fight these mistaken memes that are given life beyond reality and into a harmful fantasy?

Confronting the liars only makes the accused part of the cover up.

Ignoring the lies only propagates a misbegotten myth.

When I was a youngster growing up in the Midwest in a 100% Caucasian elementary school, one playground rumor that took hard root was the notion that "All Black people smelled like watermelon."

I have no idea how that meme started, but it became a general "fact" on the playground and the sandlots that Blacks "smelled good" like the watermelon Jolly Rancher candy we would consume by the mouthful.

It was only much later, decades later, really -- that I realized the Racism embedded in that "they smell like watermelon" playground "fact" -- because it directly played into the pickaninny meme of a shufflin', smilin', chicken-eatin' and watermelon-smellin' "darkie" defined by a bowl of nigger toes.

I was shocked to learn the power of the watermelon meme is still in political play today:

Mayor Dean Grose was forced to apologize after it was reported he sent an e-mail out to colleagues and business people--including a black woman who serves on a committee with the mayor--that depicts the White House lawn planted with watermelons.

I'm not sure how Grose expected people to respond, but African Americans don't find watermelon jokes funny. All you have to do is research racial stereotypes to understand why. The smiling "darkey" eating watermelon was a popular image during America's racist past, and was the one of the stereotypes used by Obama-haters during the presidential campaign.

Grose claims he was "unaware of the stereotype that black people like watermelon," and didn't mean to "offend" African Americans.

If the "Blacks smell like watermelon" meme is still growing strong across the arc of the last 100 years in America, I wonder if we'll ever be rid of the purposefully mistaken "Obama is a Muslim" meme that seeks to mark him as foreign and distant and as un-American as bean pie.

The Veneration of Michael Jackson Begins

2009-06-26T12:21:13Z

The veneration of Michael Jackson has started in his death -- and while this undeserved washing away of his public and private sins disgusts me, I'm not surprised by the celebration, either.

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Michael Jackson was an abused child who suffered at the hands of his domineering father who only saw instant profit in his son instead of the future promise of a child.

The public record makes it clear Michael spent the rest of his adult life trying to re-live his lost childhood -- and that painful loss of innocent imagination brought him into lawyers offices and courtrooms as his inappropriate relationships with young boys was made public.

Michael Jackson knew how to sing and perform -- those talents were beaten into him early -- but he never knew who he was or who he really wanted to be, and we saw evidence of that in his need to physically change his nose, his skin color and, perhaps, even his gender.

When the broken and the tortured are unable to be repaired and set right, the moment is ripe for an ongoing and tortuous raping of the mind and spirit; and if you ever looked beyond the glitter and the fuzz of the Jackson facade, you saw someone who was irretrievably shattered into a hundred pieces.

When there is no way to reconstruct the man from a splintered childhood, we must all be cogently aware that yearnings and passions seep out from unexpected -- and often unwanted -- places, and that, in the end was Michael Jackson's curse and his pox on us all: He searched for happiness and never found it; he tried to create beautiful things to cover the ugly in his life, but ultimately failed in his untimely death.

As we celebrate Michael Jackson in his grave, we must also pity him in the life he tried to lead -- and we must always heed the warning of broken children trying to survive in an adult body and the trouble and viciousness that forever haunts and hunts them from crib to casket -- and into the ever after.

Evolution of the Bloody Neda Semiotic

2009-06-24T12:30:11Z

The killing of Neda Agha-Soltan during the election turmoil in Iran has become an instant semiotic full of rage and mortal memeing. Neda's bloody death mask is now the face of hope for repressed Iranian citizens looking for a way out of the morass of religious repression.

]]> It was hot in the car, so the young woman and her singing instructor got out for a breath of fresh air on a quiet side street not far from the anti-government protests they had ventured out to attend. A gunshot rang out, and the woman, Neda Agha-Soltan, fell to the ground. "It burnt me," she said before she died.

The bloody video of her death on Saturday -circulated in Iran and around the world -- has made Ms. Agha-Soltan, a 26-year-old whom her relatives said was not political, an instant symbol of the anti-government movement. Her death is stirring wide outrage in a society that is infused with the culture of martyrdom -- although the word itself has become discredited because the government has pointed to the martyrs' death of Iranian soldiers to justify repressive measures. Here is that YouTube video of Neda's incredible death. Please don't watch the video if you are weak of heart, underage, or uncomfortable seeing life drain from the eyes:

Now Neda is the semiotic for the necessary and progressive human compulsion to be free -- but can a bloody visage be the leading image for a political movement?

In America, it seems, the bleeding meme of Neda's anguished death is too visceral to promote on public pages, so a sanitization of her reality seeps and congeals, just like her blood, into the crevices of what really happened and what Neda needs to meme in the higher political perspective.

In today's newspapers, Neda has already been sanitized for the greater, populist, good the world over. Notice in the cartoon below how the blood is missing from her most memorable image? If Neda isn't her blood; then what was she?

Another editorial cartoonist this morning also took on the celebration of the memeingful Neda semiotic, but, here too, her beautiful face is no longer bloody and she has "become" Iran itself instead of herself. We know this because the artist wrote "Iran" across her chest in case we missed the obvious point.

The greatest mangling of the bloody Neda semiotic also appeared in today's spasm of editorial cartoons. As you can see, Neda is now a man. His face is turned away from us so we can't see it's really not Neda. In case we missed the point, this artist has also written "Iran" across the dead body to embolden the obvious, over-reaching, semiotic.

Does Neda's death belong to Iran or is she now part of the rest of the world?

Are the real terms of her death too harsh and too wrenching to be the foundation of a modern political movement?

Must we remove the blood and gender and the surprise of a sniper's bullet from Neda in order to celebrate what her life will mean to us instead of what she meant to her family and friends?

Will we remember Neda for the blood she shed; or for the bloodshed she helped stop?

2008 Gibson Les Paul Standard Review

2009-06-19T13:14:06Z

There are few things in life that can bring you instant pleasure between your fingertips. One of those absolutes is writing, the other is playing music. After a two decade wait, I am now the proud owner of a 2008 Gibson Les Paul Standard guitar with the sweet "Iced Tea" finish.

]]> tiny studio apartment that had the bathtub in the kitchen and Matt Umanov Guitars right around the corner. When you strolled the neighborhood you were always tempted to step into Matt's and, one day, I did.

I was late coming to music -- as a youngster I played the piano poorly but sang okay -- but when I saw a Martin HD-28 acoustic guitar hanging on the Umanov wall, I knew I had to get back into the sight and sound of making music with my fingers.

It was a joy learning how to play that Martin HD-28 and I was lucky enough to play it well.

However, as time and tide crushed the standard of living the young artist's life in NYC, years later I ended up having to sell my beloved Martin HD-28 to make the rent. It was such a heart-rasping experience giving up that HD-28 that I refused allow the joy of a guitar back into my life for 20 years.

The lesson in selling a beloved to make rent is that there is no faster compression of time into space than the moments of the first of the month arriving twelve times a year. You will run out of beloveds faster than you can delay the inevitable. Confess defeat. Preserve your joy. Move on in your humiliation. Your saved beloved will later heal your broken pride. Unless, of course, you sold it -- then you're just left broken and empty and joyless.

As life progressed, and maturity aged the mind and gilded the heart, I decided it was time to honor my nomadic, polymathic, lifestyle and dip back into the music scene.

I refused to buy another acoustic because I didn't want to risk the jinxing of my previous Martin HD-28 joy, so I found a good deal on a Fender Nashville Power Telecaster electric guitar.

That NaPo Tele was, and is, a fine instrument -- but when my 2008 Gibson Les Paul Standard electric arrived this week -- there was absolutely no comparison between the two guitars.

The Les Paul is a magical, cosmic, beauty that is easier to play, and more pleasureful to pick, than any other string instrument I've had the pleasure to pluck and strum.

The Les Paul is forgiving and wants to please you. The guitar has a tonal elegance that makes one sniffle a bit when the bridge is active and then scream with glee when the neck pickup sings. Blending the two just makes you happy.

The 2008 Les Paul Standard has a tremendous voice and history and while guitar purists will argue today's guitars aren't as good as the originals made in the 1950's, I would counter with the notion that you take what you can get and getting a 2008 Les Paul Standard is a convenient and fine way to experience the history of Gibson guitar music making.

As I move forward with my reinvested learning in music, I wonder what might've happened if I'd found a way to salvage my Martin HD-28 way back when.

We must not live in regret -- but re-modeling the immature past against the rough-hewn wisdom of distance and perspective -- we can begin to see new paths for re-discovery and salvation in the future.

If I'd kept the HD-28, I would have 20 years of practice under my thumb and fingertips and I would likely not be as frustrated having to relearn what was forgotten in the loss -- older always equals harder -- but perhaps there's an unquantifiable joy of rediscovering who I was and what I wanted to be and the elder in me can hearken back to the manchild of yesterday and smile in knowing now that everything worked out in the end; even if it took two decades to get back to zero normal.

Li Wei Defies

2009-06-18T10:35:17Z

Artist Li Wei defies gravity in sculpted set ups of inhuman positions in space that redefine the memeing of the craft of the body in situ:

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Kick Li Wei in the gut -- and he will freeze time and erase space.

Crash Li Wei into a windshield and his body becomes iron -- bending the mind and pulling time into a distorted warp and roof of what is real and what is fantasy.

The role of the artist in society is to force us to rethink what we think we know and then challenge that value by exposing the emptiness of the base belief.

A Blended Finger

2009-06-15T10:40:06Z

Last week was rough as we dealt with a kitchen accident. Janna somehow got her left index finger stuck in the business end of our new Cuisinart hand blender.

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In the flash of a second, the bloody business was done and I was on the hunt for pieces of her finger in the kitchen sink.

I was able to find her thinly sliced fingerprint sitting on the cool stainless steel. I plucked it from the wet surface with a pair of tweezers, put the print on an ice cube and -- with her finger bleeding, but our minds intact -- Janna and I walked to the emergency room of the hospital a block away.

Four hours later, we learned the Cuisinart had taken not one, but two, pieces of her flesh and also sliced her finger in two additional places that didn't result in a through cut.

The first cut was the whisper-thin fingerprint I found. The other chunk of her finger was a deep, missing, gouge that must've fallen down the kitchen sink drain.

Since the larger chunk of her finger was missing, the fingerprint I'd so carefully saved could not be re-attached.

Janna was wrapped up with thick bandages and given a prescription for Percodan and sent home to heal.

A week later, her finger is doing better -- I think I see signs of her fingerprint returning to life -- and I am left with the ringing warning by triage nurse gave us as Janna's finger was examined: "You'd be surprised how many kitchen emergencies we deal with every day. The kitchen is a hot, sharp, and dangerous place."

Please be careful in your kitchen, and please know hand blenders have double, sharp, blades that spin at an incredible speed. You should certainly unplug any hand blender before you clean it, but when the best way to clean such a blender is to run it in a glass of clean water, you can see how the danger of being cut begs the price of getting clean.

Megan Fox Has Thumbs, and So Do I

2009-06-12T17:15:00Z

It seems that every day brings us further along the track to being relentlessly inundated with Celebrity Overload. I don't even want to have to mention a television show with a name like "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here" which just further puts a divide between those that are celebrated and those that are not. The last week has brought out a deluge of people who seem to be obsessed with Megan Fox's thumbs. Specifically, the fact that one of her thumbs seems abnormally large and resembles a man's toes. This, dear readers, has been captivating the attention of the United States so much that it is actually a top tracker in Google Trends.

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What are your thoughts on this? Do you care at all about the shape or size of Megan Fox's thumbs? In which way does the status of her thumbs affect your life at all? Has your life changed in a meaningful or substantial way now that you have some insight on the uncanny comparison between the thumb of an actress and the toe of a fully grown man?

Might that be enough for us for a week - or do we also need to know that Harrison Ford and Calista Flockhart are beach ready? Exactly what does it mean to be beach ready? Apparently it is not enough to have a good towel, bucket, and small shovel anymore. You actually have to have an acceptable level of physical fitness, as well.

Steve Martin and that Banjo Twang

2009-06-08T15:31:58Z

One of lost gems during the American Idol finale wasn't just Adam Lambert's unjustified loss; it was the mainstream media's overlooking Steve Martin's delightful performance of "Pretty Flowers" from his new musical masterpiece, "The Crow -- New Songs for the Five String Banjo."

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On the album, Dolly Parton and Vince Gill sing "Pretty Flowers" and the lovely and lilting tune brings back the good old days of summer swimming in the creek and lemonade parties on the sidewalk and stick baseball played on the corner sandlot.

Martin wrote and produced all the songs on his album and it is truly a bluegrass masterpiece. Sales have been brisk. "The Crow" reached number one on Amazon's Top 100 list and the album hit the top spot on Billboard's Bluegrass chart.

I encourage you to give "The Crow" a buy and a good hundred listenings. Your ears, and your, heart will forever thank you for the good humor and good nature of Steve Martin's ongoing talent.

Tweeting for Help From ComcastBill

2009-06-05T16:08:08Z

We all know I love Comcast -- except when I'm rarely hating on them -- and we all know I don't like Twitter even though I use it every day, so what happens when your first beloved betrays you and the second coming of your loathing, meet? You get a socially swampy, memeingful, mashup as ComcastBill rides to your rescue. Here's how the Comcast Crusade began yesterday at 10:11am with this Tweet:

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...and here is mine...

...you need to splice together the back-and-forth, but what ended up happening was me sending this email to ComcastBill in Philadelphia. I have redacted some of the account information:

Hi Bill --

I'm in Jersey City so we're close enough to kiss! I appreciate your direct help. We're having out a whole "customer service sucks" discussion on Facebook that was ignited by my Twitter cry for help against Comcast this morning. ...

Three days ago we had a catastrophic Comcast failure in Jersey City. We all lost premium channels because the "breaker box" in the street -- somewhere -- burned out. That's what customer service told me anyway.

We have the Triple Play -- I've reviewed it on my blogs -- and we have three HD boxes and one is an HD DVR.

The DVR is the best behaved of all the boxes but this time, that box did not come back after the zapping. We have basic channels, put their HD equivalents, but all the premium channels -- even A&E HD -- are "Not Authorized."

The really strange thing is the Quick Menu on the DVR has reverted to something that looks 5 years old: No HD or iTV option and there are up and down arrows and a music option and while I can connect to on Demand and order a free preview, no preview is ever downloaded. One of the other boxes looked and behaved like that, too for a day, and then it updated and is back on track.

In the past when these boxes forget their programming, the secret to solving it is a "copy a good configuration" from one box to the bad box and almost instantly the problem is resolved. The problem we're having is no one at Comcast appears to understand how to do that "copy" fix and all they can do is "send a wake up call" to the box that fails each time.

In my experience, this problem is software and not hardware, and in the past when a service guy shows up to fix the problem, he won't swap a box and blames the central network. I'm trying not to waste that time waiting for a tech to show up and refuse to do anything when the solution is in the CO programming.

After plugging and unplugging my problem box at least 15 times the last 3 days at the request of first line Comcast phone answerers, I gave up yesterday and accepted a service call yesterday for today between 3-6.

Today, not trusting Comcast, I called and, sure enough, the tech is scheduled to show up on Sunday and not today.

That's when I Tweeted my fury.

I complained to Comcast about the switcheroo and I was given ticket XXXXX and a tech visit tomorrow between 12-3 was set up for me. I asked for a new DVR box to replace this brand new box, but I was told I'd "get what you get."

That attitude infuriates me, especially when I'm paying $300 a month for services. In the past, because of my customer history, I've always been given priority next day appointments and having to clear my day today for the tech -- only to not have a tech show up -- is what really burned my bones this morning.

One of my readers suggested AT&T U-Verse as a Comcast alternative. He lives in my area and he said their service is superb and proactive. He said he's treated as someone important and not as "someone to be dealt with."

I'm not sure what you can do for me now -- unless you know the magic process to copy a good box config to a misbehaving box -- but I've been waiting now for two days to make my case to a Supervisor that there are problems with Comcast, but I can't get a call back. That tells me there are either not enough Supervisors or there are too many service complaints that can't be handled.

Best,

db

About 15 minutes after I sent that email to ComcastBill, I received a cold and abortive phone call from a Comcast employee on the street using a cellphone.

Then, this email reply arrived from ComcastBill:

I am reaching out to local management to get this resolved as quickly as possible. I also want to apologize for the lack of customer service you received.

I replied to ComcastBill:

Hi my friend!

I just received a brusque and unfriendly call from 201-XXX-XXXX. He wanted to know "what's wrong with the box" and when I asked him who he was and if he was with Comcast and if he was a Supervisor he got all nasty and snippy with me and refused to answer anything clearly. He was in a rush and I was bothering him even though he called me. That's the sort of rogue Comcast bullying I don't need.

He didn't want to hear anything about the technical problem or its history even though he asked what was wrong. It seems he just wanted me to say "replace the box" -- and when I did -- he said someone would be out today between 3-6 pm and he hung up.

It was bizarre and utterly strange.

db

I never heard back from ComcastBill again -- I don't blame him! -- but it seems from his base in Philadelphia, ComcastBill had set invisible plates spinning in my favor and challenged the rest of his colleagues to not let any of them drop.

Ten minutes after I sent that reply, I received a phone call from Preet in the Comcast President's office in Voorhees, New Jersey -- and that was probably the phone call ComcastBill was informing me about in his email to me.

Preet told me he was on the case. He apologized for the confusion and the delay and he promised me everything would be taken care of and restored by 6pm. He wanted to hear every detail of the trouble I'd been having and I could hear him taking notes as I spoke. Preet gave me his direct phone number and told me to call him and that he would call me later to make sure everything was set up correctly.

At 4:30pm my doorbell rang and Comcast Technical Supervisor Josue' (pronounced "Joshua") arrived with a brand new HD-DVR in hand along with a technician to do the installation.

In less than 10 minutes the old box was out and the new box was in and programmed. Josue' told me this technical failure started on Sunday, not Monday, as I had thought, and that Comcast was still trying to recover from the body blow it had dealt their network.

The technician told Josue' that two HD-DVR models -- the M5 and M7? -- were the only boxes that were stuck like mine and refusing to update after the crash. It seemed Comcast was working to code, and then push, an over-the-air firmware upgrade for those boxes to force them to take the new network programming.

Josue' said it would be a nightmare for Comcast to have to visit each home with the broken boxes just to swap out hardware because of an internal software issue.

Since Comcast knows which boxes are broken, it would be great if they were proactive in contacting affected customers to give them the choice to wait for a software fix or to immediately swap out their bad HD-DVR.

Josue' gave me his calling card and phone numbers and told me to contact him any time in the future if we ever had a problem and he would come right over and fix it for us. Now that is the kind of direct, friendly and caring customer support that I have come to know and love from my beloved Comcast.

Here's what our new dual-tuner Motorola HD-DVR 6400 looks like. It is so much better and faster than the previous model we had and Josue' said there are lots of new features coming because these HD boxes have a lot of capabilities that aren't enabled yet. One new feature on its way is the ability to plug in your telephone to the HD box and then carry that phone will you everywhere you went just like a cell phone.

A couple of hours later Preet called to confirm the HD box exchange went well and I profusely thanked him for his help. Preet also offered his phone number for use in any future problems we might have with out Comcast service.

As I exhaled last night and watched the replay of the Yankees game I missed while dealing with Comcast all day, I couldn't help but wonder why it takes such extra effort to get basic customer caring in our modern world.

A few years ago you could get a Comcast Supervisor on the phone and they had the power and the interest to muscle the right thing into happening for you. I understand the first line of defense against frustrated customers is to press them into a queue and try to do a basic fix over the phone and if that fails, you just "roll a truck" -- but there needs to be more than that -- there needs to be a historical understanding and a context for all customer service employees when it comes to dealing with technology. It's a problem for Comcast when I know more about fixing my cable box than the person I'm speaking to on the phone.

I would be happy to pay a $10.00 monthly fee to Comcast to put things back the way they used to be where courtesy and caring were the hallmarks of the day. Today, you have to punch in so many numbers on you telephone just to get a human voice; and then you're treated like a criminal when you have to give your entire street address, phone number, email address and "secret PIN" just to get the customer service representative to pretend to listen to your technical issue.

For my $10 a month, I want a direct phone number that is answered by a Comcast human being who already knows who I am based on my phone number and I don't want the third degree Q&A before they'll listen to me. If I am dissatisfied with the answers I'm getting, I want to be transferred to a Supervisor. I do not want to be given a "ticket number" that I will have to use when I call back to complain the Supervisor never called me back as promised.

There also appears to be no tier two support at Comcast any longer. If your first line phone answerer can't solve your problem, then you have to wait for an in-person appointment. That adds time and frustration to the problem.

Then I wondered if it is fair to pin all the customer support hopes and dreams on Twitter and ComcastBill? Without his direct intervention, I would not have had anyone at my doorstep until Sunday. In less than 7 hours yesterday, ComcastBill listened, acted, and had my problem solved. Is that a miracle or an ordinary expectation? Can we make ComcastBill the head of Comcast customer service right now today?

I appreciate Preet's help as well -- but should the Comcast President's Office have to get so deeply involved in what was an ongoing and repetitive loop of disenchantment and non-caring? There needs to be more surefire circuit breakers that will click into action before people like ComcastBill and Preet are drawn into the fray.

I certainly appreciate ComcastBill's fortitude and muscle, and I am content in knowing that if I have any future problems, my new best friend Preet is but a phone call away -- but what about the rest of the Comcast customers who might find themselves similarly frustrated and ignored?

Will they go all out to fight back as I did yesterday, or will they just be disappointed and resign themselves to the careless re-lowering of their expectation of what a customer care experience has become today in many companies?

My advice for any consumer is to fight back and bite hard if you feel the hand you're feeding isn't responding as you expect; and if you don't get the results you seek, vote with your pocketbook and find another company that values your dollar as much as you do.

Do the Helen Keller and Talk with Your Hips!

2009-06-04T12:39:26Z

I was innocently listening to the radio yesterday when a song popped on the public airwaves called "Don't Trust Me" by 3oh!3. Here is part of the disgusting lyric set to a bouncy beat and a bubblegum melody:

Don't trust a hoe
Never trust a hoe
Won't trust a hoe,
Won't trust me!

Shush girl
Shut your lips
Do the Helen Keller
and talk with your hips

]]> Helen Keller" during sex.

What does this barbaric song -- with its glossy backbeat -- say about us as a society?

Does the public propagation of this song as entertainment confirm we, as a nation, are tolerant of hate speech and the denigration of the disabled?

How do songs like this infect the young and inexperienced mind?

Here's the tune being "performed" live in Denver, and I suppose the one saving grace is how awful the performers are, and that means they won't have much staying power --

-- but how much psychic damage has already been done?

The Perpetual Poorhouse

2009-06-03T13:03:39Z

First the car industry went bankrupt; next on the economic griddle -- as argued in the Chronicle of Higher Education -- is the rising astronomical cost of a university education that is about to burst a bloody mess upon us all.

]]> With tuitions, fees, and room and board at dozens of colleges now reaching $50,000 a year, the ability to sustain private higher education for all but the very well-heeled is questionable. According to the National Center for Public Policy and Higher Education, over the past 25 years, average college tuition and fees have risen by 440 percent -- more than four times the rate of inflation and almost twice the rate of medical care. Patrick M. Callan, the center's president, has warned that low-income students will find college unaffordable.

Meanwhile, the middle class, which has paid for higher education in the past mainly by taking out loans, may now be precluded from doing so as the private student-loan market has all but dried up. In addition, endowment cushions that allowed colleges to engage in steep tuition discounting are gone. Declines in housing valuations are making it difficult for families to rely on home-equity loans for college financing. Even when the equity is there, parents are reluctant to further leverage themselves into a future where job security is uncertain.

Consumers who have questioned whether it is worth spending $1,000 a square foot for a home are now asking whether it is worth spending $1,000 a week to send their kids to college. There is a growing sense among the public that higher education might be overpriced and under-delivering. If you weren't born into wealth, one of the ways you could raise your relevant stake in society was to attend a private school or attend an Ivy League college in order to meet and network with the power elite.

You had to pay -- tuition -- to play.

Buying your way in to the upper university caste elite was always possible, but had prickly and dangerous underpinnings -- the poor and disengaged local wisdom was always, "A dollar spent today pays tenfold in ten years."

I'm not sure if that old chestnut still rings ripe today or not -- especially with an entire generation of graduate students now holding advanced degrees with nowhere to go and a student loan debt cost piling to the ceiling: You educated yourself into a perpetual poorhouse with no way out.

Student loans are still an evil necessity if you hope to advance your life in society -- but once you sign the loan paper and take the money, the university debt is forever yours -- there's no way to remove that burden unless you pay it off in full and so we all risk a pauper nation filled with really smart people who are really angry all their hard work and discipline are not being greeted and celebrated in the marketplace and when smart people are poor, hungry and angry, cultural revolution is not very far behind.

An American Atheist President

2009-06-02T13:07:48Z

What will happen to the United States -- One Nation Under God -- if we ever elected an atheist president -- or would we be rendered asunder before that could ever happen? Is it possible for an atheist to win the highest office in the land where prayer and freedom of religion reign?

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As President Obama wends his way into Egypt this week -- I wonder if America would elect a true Muslim president before an atheist?

Or is the American mindset so set against the Muslim community that -- if it came down to a choice between two nevers -- we would have to choose an atheist president over a Muslim one?

If you had to pick right now between two presidential candidates based solely on their system of faith -- or lack thereof -- would you vote for the atheist or the Muslim candidate, and what presses you into that decision?

Living Large Like Saddam

2009-06-01T13:03:57Z

Photographer Richard Mosse has a terrific trail of images from Iraq of the United States' occupation of Saddam Hussein's imperial palaces. It has always bothered me seeing US troops living large on Saddam's legacy of largesse, and now, after seeing Mosse's photographs, I understand the why of the disconcerting disconnect.

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We should have left every palace as rubble. We should not be playing basketball in Saddam's homes.

We should not be working out by Saddam's empty pool.

We should not be cooking American BBQ on any balcony that Saddam once used to look down on his people.

The semiotic message these images of Americans in Saddam's palaces send to the world is that we replaced Saddam: You are rid of him; but now you're stuck with us.

Obama needs to instruct ever solider to move out of Saddam's palaces and either destroy the buildings or make them into public spaces for the good people of Iraq who have already suffered enough under a pretentious, and deadly, dictatorial thumb.