Magic Shadows

Yesterday my friend and I kept trying to see a movie.  We've heard a lot of buzz about a French thriller called Tell No One, so we decided to go to a matinee.  Apparently, everyone else in Atlanta had the same idea, so the afternoon show was sold out.  We got tickets for the 7pm show and returned early to get a good seat.  All of Atlanta's French cinema enthusiasts were lined up outside, nervously, as a dramatic thunderstorm was fast approaching.  They let us inside just before we got drenched, but the moment we settled into our seats, the power went out.  Foiled again!  Most of the audience decided to wait it out, and soon everyone took out their cell phones to use their illuminated screens as flashlights.  It looked like the theatre was full of digital fireflies. Somebody produced an actual flashlight, and before long a shadow puppet show was being performed on the movie screen, to everyone's amusement.  The narrative involved an encounter between a giraffe and a crocodile, and it concluded to thunderous applause.  After half an hour they kicked us out because there was no sign of the power returning, so we went back to my house to drink cheap wine and marvel at the tree that had fallen through my neighbour's roof in the storm.  He was in good spirits about it, saying "the roof was old anyway...everything happens for a reason."  

Cajun Dancing

My latest internet-facilitated date was with Larry the Mortgage Guy, who has introduced me to cajun dancing.  Last night's dance was held at the Knights of Columbus hall, where the dance floor is illuminated by Christmas lights and each corner is equipped with a fan to keep the dancers cool.  I had asked Larry about the dress code, and he said he was going to wear his cowboy boots.  I was thrilled at the prospect of wearing mine, and they turned out to be well suited to the waltz and 2-step.  Between dances we would sit at the tables among people enjoying bowls of gumbo and plates of bread pudding and talk about exotic cajun dance venues - assorted barns, restaurants, and clubs throughout the South.  My favorite story was about a club in Louisiana where the dance floor is on a platform over a swamp, with alligators prowling below.  No alligators at the Knights of Columbus hall, but the all-ages crowd provided plenty of visual interest.  The band was genius - the fiddler introduced the accordionist as the best in Louisiana, and therefore, the world.  The guitarist, whose instrument was covered in patriotic stickers detailing his military career, told corny jokes between sets and complimented the crowd on their fine dancing.  

Intelegent Design

I have spent the weekend rating diagnostic writing tests.  The prompt posed a question about whether or not the Georgia Tech administration should have the right to read students' email. Here are some highlights:

College is about no control.

If you don't like people checking your bags, buy your own plane.

Administrative access to emails would create an environment of senseless snooping, wasted taxes, mistrust and schizophrenia.

Have we not shown a consitent thrive for excelence?

The right to privacy has become a prominent issue in the recent technological error.

Privacy is a sense of being private.

The internet is constantly eveloving.

Email exists as the backbone of modern society.

And the winner is:

The fact is, Georgia Tech students are intelegent.

More pearls of college wisdom

I'm making some extra cash by rating State of Georgia standardized tests to assess college students' writing.  Some hilarious insights from these young minds:

"In the early 1400s nobody had a clue what smoking did to their bodies."

"Before Hillary other women had not run for the 'Master and Commander' position in the U.S."

And my favourite so far:

"Some well-established families have children who eventually become gothic."

Hey Neil, nice backpack!

I know I need to stop being shocked by this sort of thing and just operate on the assumption that my students have same level of historical knowledge as newborn infants, but a student who is writing a paper about a photograph taken on the Moon asked me if there is any television footage of the Apollo 11 lunar landing.  Huh?  I may be arranging a screening on Monday to get everyone caught up on the 20th Century.  

Of course, this is the same student who didn't know what "backpacking" was. 

Monumental Confusion

Today in class we were talking about images from the Hubble Telescope. I had asked the students to listen to an online lecture by an Art Historian friend of mine, where she explains that the scientists who create the much-publicized Hubble images draw inspiration from 19th century American landscape paintings. They have those traditions in mind when they are making decisions about colors (will Hydrogen be red or green?), orientation (since there is no up or down in space), and framing (where do you put the frame on an object that is 100 million miles across?). To demonstrate her points, she explains the connections between the Eagle Nebula image, with its "towering" structures, and images of Monument Valley. When I showed photos of Monument Valley to my students, only one of them knew what they were, and only because he had been there on a family vacation. It was Greek to the rest of them. This confuses me. How does one get through life without seeing images of Monument Valley? What have these young Americans been doing with their eyes?

Mollie's Graduation

Mollie completed her obedience course today.  Here she is in her mortar board.  Next stop, therapy dog assessment.  

This photo session proved to be quite hilarious.  Those of you who have met Mollie know that she sneezes a lot, particularly when she's excited and happy.  The thrill of graduation provoked a fair bit of sneezing, which would make the hat fly off her head.  Our slapstick routine got laughs from human passersby, which only made Mollie sneeze more.  

Now that I think about it, maybe this was Mollie's interpretation of throwing one's cap in the air at the end of the graduation ceremony.  Clever dog.