John Y’s Musings from the Middle: The Twitterization of Higher Ed

The Twitterization of Higher Education

I’m excited for my son who is starting college this fall at one of the nation’s finest liberal arts institutions, Centre College.

I am a passionate believer in the value of a liberal arts education. I think a strong liberal arts education is the best foundation for vocational and civic preparation. Developing and honing thinking and communication skills is the foundation for success in most every job and will help ensure informed civic involvement. And, the liberal arts just makes for a richer inner life. Besides, what other form of education can both best prepare you for the technical tasks ahead and simultaneously help you convincingly rationalize why you are glad you failed if things don’t work out?

The liberal arts just make practical sense.

And I am grateful that our technically sophisticated world waited until a few thousand contemplative years had passed before we began communicating in Tweets, texts, IMing, and Facebook messaging, Imagine if the Platonic dialogues had been a series of cell phone texts between Socrates and Plato.

Or if Henry David Thoreau had Tweeted (and ReTweeted) his reflections at Walden in a series of 140 or fewer character insights instead of writing prose?

Imagine the Federalist Papers being hammered out by Jay, Madison and Hamilton in Facebook posts, comments, messages—complete with “Likes” and links to inspirational quotes and funny pictures. And of course with text acronyms (ROFLMAO, LOL, OMG WTF and the like).

It just wouldn’t be the same. It would still be an education, I suppose, but not convey much that inspires or enlightens. And it would produce a society of Dennis Leary’s– fast talking, sarcastic, misanthropic entertainers. We need Dennis Learys, no doubt about it. But not that many.

I suppose there is certainly irony in the fact that I am putting these thoughts in a Facebook post. Our modern social media is brilliant at forcing us to think quickly and condense richer thoughts into communicable fragments that are adequate to the task. Twitter, Facebook and texting allows instantaneous communication to a mind-bogglingly vast audience. And that provides incredible societal benefits.

Those benefits are primarily for data-driven communications. And that makes our world a safer, higher functioning and more efficient place. But the liberal arts and contemplative life makes our world a more interesting place— and allows us to create a more meaningful life.

I embrace both. Why? The Golden Mean, as the Greeks called it. The often desirable middle between two extremes.

And I learned that as part of a liberal arts education.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Fixing Blunders

Has this ever happened to you?

Sometimes during the day I find myself realizing –after it is apparent to everyone else involved–that I have made a blunder of some sort.

I may try to fix the mistake in mid-air, so to speak.

But rarely can.

Then my mind races for a plausible excuse for why I did the dumb thing I did. After that usually fails, I try to think of a way to blame it on someone or something else.

It’s about that time I hear a voice in my head say matter-of-factly, “Clean up on aisle three.”

The RP’s Weekly Web Gems: The Politics of Laughter

The Politics of Laughter

Goldie [Buttersafe]

Ass [Cyanide and Happiness]

Honest Signage [picture]

Sorry Crocs fans [picture]

The ‘ol Bait and Switch [.gif]

 

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Your Inner Jack

Your Inner Jack?

Yeah, c’mon….admit it.

Every guy, deep down, has an inner-Jack Nicholson wanting to get out.

You know what I mean. Some prefer to call it the “wild man” or the “id” (those who fear it call it less flattering names) —but it’s there and is a vital creative life force in all men that is better to be embraced and let out for exercise than contained, condemned, suppressed and ignored.

To hate it is to hate ourselves.

To kill it is to kill an essential part of ourselves.

So, go for it. Give in –at least once this weekend–to your inner Jack.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: New Apps

Telling.

Tonight I decided to look on my iPhone for some new apps.

I opened up the icon and there were two options under Editor’s Choice: 1) New and 2) Previous.

In the past I would have instantly hit “New” wanting to be an early adopter and keep up with the crowd.

But tonight a little piece of me died when I hit “Previous” without even hesitating.

I have officially moved from cutting edge to that secondary (or lower) group that prefers to pick over what’s left and look for a “good deal.”

And worst of all, there was another category “Genius.”

I rolled my eyes and turned off the phone to conserve energy.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Pet Peeve from NYC

Pet peeve from NY visit.

I got irked a couple times listening to seemingly self-deprecating New Yorkers talk about how they were so self-absorbed or narcissistic—as was their spouse.

What bothered me wasn’t that fact but the way they seemed to be saying that sort of “sophisticated” problem happens only to busy city folk. And explains all the syllables and hard to spell word like narcissistic.

I wanted to say, “Ever heard the saying ‘That couple is like two tics and no dog?'”
Pause and then add “Back home we can out self-center and out-crazy you all any day of the week.” And smile smugly in a pleasant but slightly deranged manner.
But I held my tongue. It just didn’t seem as impressive a bragging point as it initially sounded in my head.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Disorder in the Court

A new book, Disorder in the Court, jabs the legal practice with the verbatim words during legal proceedings as recorded by the legal reporter.

My favorite:

> ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?

> WITNESS: No.

> ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?

> WITNESS: No.

> ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?

> WITNESS: No.

> ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?

>WITNESS: No.

> ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
>WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
> ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
> WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.

Jeff Smith: Foreshadowing the 2016 “Guns Control” Debate

If nothing else, this week has foreshadowed the main divide of the ’16 campaign — guns control:

The RP’s Weekly Web Gems: The Politics of Laughter

The Politics of Laughter

The facial expressions at the end of this are priceless. [MLB.com]

The Little Squeeze [Whomp!]

Super Heroes as Manatees [Geeks n Gamers]

Why fly when you can take a train! [picture]

Creepy Earth [Halorvic]

Cheeky move [.gif]

 

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: New World Order

New World Order. As in new “fast food order”–in the post-Chick-Fil-A politicization of poultry world we now live in.

And everything has changed.

I was on a conference call today with two guys who live in a liberal northeastern state and I was asked to describe Kentucky’s politics. I blurted out, “We are a Chik-Fil-A state” and no further explanation was needed.

But tonight things took a personal turn.

I was hungry and tired and driving in my hometown Louisville, KY. I wanted to go to Chik-Fil-A. But I didn’t. At some deep level I felt like “my kind” wasn’t welcome there. You know the kind I’m talking about:  democratic heterosexuals who don’t spend a lot of time thinking about gay sex.

So I did what any good populist loving, bring-me-your-poor-and-huddled-masses democrat would do. I went to Taco Bell instead.  Which allowed me the extra political satisfaction of slyly making a subtle political statement opposing immigration too. I was self-satisfied from a political standpoint but as I ate my very masculine Crunchwrap Supreme from the Taco Bell parking lot I kept looking at the Chick-Fil-A sign from across the street. And getting angrier—and hungrier.

I imagined the chicken salad sandwich on toasted bread with cole slaw on the side and for a split second caught myself re-considering my views on civil unions. I was ashamed. And wanted to send Chick-Fil-A a message for putting me in this awful predicament.

I threw down my Crunchwrap Supreme and drove across the street and into the belly of the beast. As I pulled in I felt like I had just pulled into the Creationism Museum circa 1950 and hoped no one was on to me—a political subversive on the premises trying to score a chicken salad sandwich without being outed. So far, so good.

My plan was to order at the drive thru and then pause and ask if they were running any “Heterosexual discounts” today and then casually mention I just celebrated 21 years of marriage to my heterosexual wife to make them think I was one of them.

But as I pulled up to the drive thru a kind female voice asked how she could she “serve” me—and was sincere and patient and kind.  I was embarrassed. I couldn’t go through with my silly little prank. But I couldn’t just eat at Chik-Fil-A and not do something to show I wasn’t selling out my political convictions for a measly chicken sandwich. So I ordered “Waffle Potato Fries”—the gayest thing on the menu. No “Freedom fries” here. More like “Fairy fries” if you ask me. And as I enjoyed the delicious fries in the Chick-Fil-A parking lot I thought to myself, “These are Deee-VINE!!” An inside dig with myself as I sneered at the nice and helpful waitress inside.

And then I drove away—disappointed at my juvenile behavior but encouraged that Chick-Fil-A types and my type aren’t that far apart after all. We really never are, you know.

I mean….those fries may not be the gay marrying kind…but by the time Chick-Fil-A is finished with them, there’s nothing remotely heterosexual about them.

And then I got it. I think it Chick-Fil-A’s way of winking to the rest of us and saying,

“We may be traditionalist for the most part. But we still know how to get our gay on too!”

And that made me feel better about returning soon to Chick-Fil-A.

And made me smile to myself and think, “Maybe we really can all get along”

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