A hodgepodge of thoughts today:

Health:  We're both on the mend after the battle with summer colds.  Both of us still have occasional bouts of coughing, but in general, they're fewer and most of our energy has returned.  I can't say that my stomach is in great shape, and I haven't had much appetite lately, but I assume that's just part of the cycle I'm becoming used to.  Monday morning we have an appointment at KU Med with Dr. Templeton, the surgeon who operated on my leg and hip.  That means a 75-minute drive in, a wait (though since the appointment is at 9 a.m., perhaps we're her first consult of the day), a 10-minute exam, and then a 75-minute drive home.  I'll push Dr. Templeton's hands apart with my knees, then push them together.  I'll raise her hand by lifting my leg, and then she'll say that everything is fine.  I'd probably skip the appointment, but Mohamed thinks we ought to go. 

Classes start Monday for Mohamed, though his first class isn't till 5:30 on Monday, so we can easily work in the KC trip.  I'm not sure why the summer passed so quickly since we didn't do anything eventful, but with the beginning of school and a break in the awful heat, it does feel as if summer vacation is over, and it's time to establish a new routine.  We went to school on Wednesday so that I could turn in some financial information and Mohamed could buy his texts.  The English department had just had a department meeting, so we got to see lots of old colleagues whom we hadn't seen over the summer. That was the good part.  Mohamed bought four books, two of them used, for nearly $500.  The fifth one we found online for literally 1/20 of the cost at the bookstore, which was out of them anyway.  In an earlier blog, I complained about disjointed history texts and blamed the Texas Board of Education.  But I glanced through the text for microeconomics ($93 used), and it was equally confusing.  The book begins with 45 pages of acknowledgments and tips.  The pages of thanks are so extensive that they're organized by state and by edition.  When chapter one finally begins, there's a blank page followed by a picture of Bill Gates.  By page 3, there are actual words.  But it's not really the text: it's two paragraphs of a case study, at the end of which the reader is directed to page 18.  That is followed by a new section--8 lines of text which are continued on page 16.  I turn the page, and voila the text begins with three key economic ideas.  There is a paragraph about idea #1, a paragraph about idea #2, and then...no, it would be too much to expect that we get idea #3.  Rather there's a "Making the Connection" digression, followed by a graph, followed by a teeny symbol in three different colors that says "myeconlab" and directs me to problem 1.7 on page 21.  Once a student finally reaches a section called "Conclusion" (page 17), one might think that chapter has ended. But no.  There are 18 additional pages of summary (the summaries are longer than the original points), graphs, learning objectives, review questions, etc.  How much of this is a student actually going to read?  And given the incoherence of the actual text, how can anyone be expected to follow the ideas?  Is this really the most effective way to hold a student's attention? 

Simulacra and Truthiness.  I watch more television than I ever have in my life.  I'd like to think the TV is just on as background noise, but I'm afraid I find myself actually paying attention.  I've been thinking about what Jean Baudrillard, who argued that in our current world, what passes as reality is not a copy/simulacrum of reality, but has become its own hyperreality, would make of life in 2012.  What Stephen Colbert calls "Truthiness" is more prevalent than truth.  So-called "reality" TV shows are an obvious example.  At some level, we know that all is staged and scripted, but that belief is often suspended.  The most egregious new example (though there are certainly an infinite supply to choose from) may be "Stars Earn Stripes."  (I haven't sunk so low as to actually watch it, but it's hard to escape the promos.)  We're already used to the fact that we don't even recognize most of the "stars."  In the 30-second promo, the word 'real' is used a half dozen times, a clue that the producers know how slight the reality is.  One star says that he knows he might not come out of the experience alive.  No.  He doesn't know that because it isn't true.  Another says it's a once-in-a-lifetime experience that could never be duplicated, though as Colbert pointed out, he could have had the experience any day in the last eleven years simply by enlisting in the army.

The commercial that has brought simulacra to a new level seems to me to be one for Colgate where a supposed machine measures the amount of plaque on teeth twelve hours after one actor supposedly has brushed with Colgate and another hasn't.  The ad is described in small letters as a "creative representation" and a "dramatic illustration."  The dentist isn't a dentist, the two people supposedly being tested are actors, neither of whom has brushed with Colgate, the equipment isn't measuring anything, and the results are, well, creative, though whether they represent anything is arguable.  Baudrillard died too soon.  His work would have been even richer after a few hours in front of American television.

The most frightening commercial is one for a lending service called Western Sky, which promises to put $5,000 or $10,000 in your pocket the same day you apply.  In some versions of the ad, the spokesperson says, "Sure, the money's expensive."  That's not an understatement.  If you read the very fine print at the bottom, to borrow $10,000, you must repay $743 per month for seven years.  That's over $60,000.  And the Republicans think that there is too much regulation!

On HGTV, which seems intent on convincing us that we all deserve second homes, walk-in closets, open concept kitchens with six-burner stoves, and a lifetime of debt, the show that puzzles me most is "Property Virgins."  In one recent (and typical) episode, filmed in 2011 long after the lessons of the housing bubble, a first-time home buyer was described as having been pre-approved (which is somehow different from being approved) for a $360,000 bank loan.  She had $9,000 as a down payment, so was told she could buy a house for $369,000.  A 2.5% down payment?  A buyer who had managed to save $9,000 and was buying a house for forty times that amount?  I thought those days had passed, but evidently not.

And those are my random thoughts on a Friday morning.  Normally, I'd post an entry next on Monday, but since I'll be in KC Monday morning, I'll wait till Tuesday.