June 2006 Archives

Mom meant my workout but that "it" implied all of everything else we discussed yesterday afternoon. Comps, travel, home, history, relationships. Wow. One cool part was her telling me about going to Tripoli - must have been in the 1950s (?) and Jerusalem in it's Christian configuration. At that time, she said, folks couldn't travel between Palestinian and Israeli areas. She mentioned that you couldn't enter Tripoli if you had an Israeli stamp in your passport. This applies to Iran, still. I haven't been to Israel so that's one hurdle I don't have to jump. (No word on authorization yet except that it is officially in progress.)

Yesterday was so full! I managed several important phone calls (procrastinated since forever) and some radical thinking. :-) Had a couple of serious/fun appointments...then was invited to dinner (spontaneously) and had the most wonderful time in the midst of an Indian-AfroBrazilian-American jazz jam session. Delicious food, happy people. It pushed me past my bedtime (!) and cut into some writing time but I have no regrets. I think I needed the break?

One amazing thing. There were two or three moments during the evening's festivities when I felt "this is enough." The impulse wasn't attached to preferring to be somewhere else or occupied with something else, it was about capacity: I'd taken in as much as I could. Each time the experience was shortlived; what struck me is how the sensation of being maxxed-out paralleled - exactly! - the feeling I had during acupuncture yesterday morning. The "IA" (intuitive acupuncturist) poked me only in two places (right foot and left wrist) and then left me alone "to cook" for at least 45 minutes. There were two or three moments when I felt, viscerally, "I'm done now."

I know it's an accomplishment to keep stretching beyond the limits of capability, capacity, endurance . . . I keep coming up against the conditioning of the past. I have the image of Dan as Macbeth, roiled by voices; the transformations of Professor Lupine turning into a werewolf, and other movie-generated images of painful metamorphosis. But, I'm pleased to report that the IA also said my "energies are balancing out." I've observed my reactions to some recent events that historically would have triggered me or otherwise inspired some form of acting out. And I didn't. :-)

So said the intuitive acupuncturist at my appointment this morning. She’s been “encouraging the shift [I’d] already begun” – regarding the connection between my “life-purpose” (liver area) and “intimacy”(heart area).

This was after she decided to ignore the wonkiness of my stomach pulse. (An "important technical term in Chinese medicine," she explained.) “Did you just eat?” “I had some chai, real Indian chai.” “That would do it.” “It had a lot of ginger in it.” “Yep, ginger heats things up.”

I told you it was perfect!

Last night, I arrived (unusually!) early to work, giving me time to walk the labyrinth (built in the classical style).

It was cool. It took longer than I anticipated (oops), but was a strikingly parallel experience to the process of receiving feedback on a paper earlier in the afternoon. My pace was slow, measured; my mood contemplative. I wove through its curves, following the path. I wasn’t conscious of time passing – or I thought I wasn’t – until the moment I thought I’d arrived at the center and realized there was another circuit to complete. A visceral feeling of shock rippled through me. Ah, I’ve already felt this today! In retrospect, the event and interaction around it were unfortunate, but possibly (?) not avoidable? Different sets of expectations and priorities. Two strong personalities. Crash.

But the morning was incredible. I had a massage (first one in three years or so) and the masseuse said it was a pleasure to work on me because my body was so responsive. She could see the muscles sussurate while she worked some of the pressure points. I was struck by the fact that even though I was tired and nearly fell asleep, my jaw remained clenched throughout. I couldn’t keep it relaxed. What? Me worry? It has to go somewhere, so they say.

At the end of the appointment I asked if she happened to know a tattoist. She hesitated, thinking. Yeah, she said, this guy Gabe. He just opened a shop in Easthampton. As she was digging out his phone number she added, “His body is covered with birds. He has a pair of lovebirds on the back of his neck.” He’s the one, I thought (actually felt) to myself (recognition?) The masseuse hadn’t remembered the name of his shop and didn’t have his work number so when I reached him on his cell phone he suggested I get directions by checking out his website. It doesn’t get more perfect than this!

Mango lassi and chanasamosa started me off. Well, actually this was after the almost gender-divided hugs. Puru wouldn't let me get away with just hugging the women. :-) It was pretty cool, actually, as I got about a half-dozen hugs (handshakes with the folks I was just meeting for the first time). Did I mention I sortof kindof invited myself? shhhhhh! It was a great party to crash for some social interaction - just as Neil's has been the perfect idiomatic crash pad. (Countdown to departure has commenced, wah.) Although I doubt I'll miss Satya's militaristic party garb.

Food segregation continued. At least this time it was on the basis of vegetarians and carnivores, instead of men and women. Although then we noticed that the men were clustered at both ends of the table, essentially surrounding us. The most trapped, by the way, was the birthday girl herself. Neil had to pick a fight with the waitress (can’t take him out in public!), who threatened to withhold his food. (His behavior subsequently improved tremendously.)

The most interesting thing I learned was how to smuggle mangos. This is an Indian cottage industry. The first thing you do to throw the customs officials off the scent is to scrupulously recite the several dozens of different spices you’ve brought back. They really don’t want to know. Second, the amount of spices will confuse the dogs, who won’t be able to distinguish the smell of mangos in the midst of sneezing. Third (most important), sing English songs in Punjabi. Folks will be offended by the dissonance and they’ll usher you through as fast as possible.

I might have been offensive (?) as I heard (with my untrained american ears) “Sulu” as Sudarshan’s nickname. And Shiva had to fight with the clothing rod in my backseat all the way home (not to mention his virtual exclusion from Sitma's and my dive into Althusser). Hema! You’ve gotten email from me before! Did I forget meeting you? Oh my. ;-/

"What the heck is that about?" I wondered as a colleague drove past me with arm fully extended, middle finger high in the air, yelling a resounding "F*ck You!"

Per shall remain nameless.

I'm gonna need some help on a few details, please? What's the Turkish word for the type of dream in which a dark lump settles down on your chest, preventing movement?

And what was the name of that most fantabulous mini-Australian dessert? Can a non-chef make them?

The luminaria ushered me in, as part of the second wave of guests to a combo-birthday, defense, summer solstice celebration.

Highlights abound (noteless, we'll see what I recall).

The defense queen greeted me, aglow herself with success. I think she raked in a bundle too (although there was a slight question regarding whether two donations in particular actually arrived to the envelope).

Luscious was on the hunt for nationalistic fandom. I know someone wishing for a Brazil-Argentina final. Arturo (from Mexico) and Maria (from Argentina) preserved their relationship on the agreement that whoever could beat Germany should win.

Fascinating thing - talking about my (anticipated!) trip to Iran - was Arturo and Maria's concern not about my going, rather about my ability to return. Will US Customs allow me back in? Do I need to fill out paperwork with them, traveling against the State Department's advice? Lord help us all if such is the case.

Greg and I had an extended discussion about French pessimism and US optimism; with the caveat that there are stupid people everywhere. :-)

The dream analysis was cool, although there's no doubt someone had a secret agenda in offering an interpretation. Mine, I'm sure was no better, being, as Florencia noted, so incredibly qualifed to offer definitive opinions!

I missed Raz. Folks ask me about him at each event.

JC told me the blog looks "very professional." I wonder if he'll change his mind when he reads that I got to fondle a young hunk's six-pack?!

There were other conversations, esp with folks I just met and/or only briefly said hello to before either I or they were spirited into another discursive direction. All-in-all, it was a blast, and was still going strong when I left just before 1 a.m. Did you beat last year's record and make it to the dawn?

Germany took Sweden apart in short order today; it wasn't much of a game except for the performance of Sweden's goalie, Isaksson (11 shots on goal were credited to the German side; he saved most of them with no help from his defenders). I recall a few games like that, when my defenders just couldn't anticipate and left me alone to field more shots than anyone should ever have to face in one match. He played one hell of a game, even though it's the Germans who gain all the attention. I admired Teddy Lucic's calm reaction to receiving a red card after two undeserved yellows.

There's been some magic about the first ten minutes: Germany scores in the 4th and then the 12th minute, and later Mexico and Argentina both scored in the early minutes of their tense match. I wound up passionately on Mexico's side even though I entered Delano's with no preference whatsover. They were the identified underdog, for one thing. And the mostly international crowd was cheering for Argentina - or seemed to be. As the match wound on it became evident that the crowd was evenly split, which made for a great atmosphere: both in terms of fellow-fanship and also that everyone seemed to appreciate great plays by either team. (I heard there was a rabidly anti-Mexico contingent in "the back room" - watching Univision in order (apparently?) to pique their fervor to a maximum pitch.)

Some months ago I was nearly skewered at the pinpoint of a rapier. I deflected the blow and mine enemy did retreat. I was accused of Nietzschean ressentiment, of being an unwitting participant in “the revolt of the slaves in morals” because of my “depriv[ation]…of the proper outlet of action” and thus particular behaviors were perceivable as reactive attempts “to find [my] compensation in an imaginary revenge” (“Good and Evil,” “Good and Bad” p. 19).

I hadn’t yet read Nietzsche then, so wasn’t aware of the extent of the insult. Reading The Genealogy of Morals now, I can readily perceive two constitutive/constituting elements that brought forth the judgment:

1) the rationale for characterizing me as having succumbed to the so-called slave morality at the sublime ideological level, and
2) that the epistemology which justifies this judgment of my character was motivated dialectically – as an essential response to certain unfortunate dynamics that played themselves out in the beginning of “Communication in Crisis” conference planning. (Which, let it be duly noted, was a resounding success.)

I’m working on point one: the accusation of slave morality. Being of a more heteroglossic rather than essentialist bent I’m less inclined to accept Nietzsche’s polemical terror at what he calls the victory of the priestly-aristocratic caste (using the Jews as his exemplar) as a death knell for humanity. My own self-assessment now is thus a combined yes-and-no affair. (In fact, it seems evident to me that Nietzsche drops hints that he himself is not quite so disdainful as he deliberately seeks to appear.) Indeed, there is an important distinction to be made between stereotypical labeling of aristocratic or slave morality and recognition of the typical characteristics in diverse individuals. I did react - on the basis of emotions Nietzsche valorizes as aristocratic - and I did react - on the basis of another, uncontrollable situation in regards to which my emotions were unresolved.

I've interpreted with Scott for ... about eight years? Now he's off to the wild wild west - Montana oh no no no that's WyOMing! oh heck, someplace where they have horses. :-)

Ride 'em cowboy!

Thus was I greeted upon arriving at Shakespeare under the Stars for opening night. Who, me? Not paying attention? Didn't notice something? For shame! I chattered with the assembled peasantry (!), laughed hard at the Porter (MacBeth's servant), and admired the passion of our friend Dan, exposing the depths of his capacity for depravity. Yes, Daniel Kennedy is Macbeth! He is accompanied by a stellar cast. The witches and Lady Macbeth are well-worth seeing, but forsooth - none played poorly!

Besides terrorizing my cat, and scattering football players with his amazing defensive skills, the dude came after me last night! I thought it was great. :-) He reminded me that US ignorance of the rest of the world population's actual experiences living day-to-day is racism. Period. It could have been the end of conversation.

It wasn't, however, because I concede the point. There are situations when the nuance of naivete/deliberation matters a great deal, but if we're going to establish a baseline definition the material fact of privilege is that it shields one from needing to know. So we moved on to some other topics with more room for intellectual exploration, including Nietzche.

The point I was trying to make with Satya - that I circled around for awhile, getting lost in my own preamble (!)- is Nietzsche's assertion that we (human beings) NEED fear in order to truly live. I am not opposed to this thesis, but I'm not sure I agree with the terms with which it seems Nietzsche limits fear's range. I'll have to look closer at his actual language (as translated, since I don't know German), to see if there's a way to tease out the implication I perceived of a limited domain of what he might consider "legitimate" fear.

I wanted her to identify the most concentrated point of lifeforce, vitality, energy etc in my body. There's "something important" going on between my liver and a point in the back of my head at the neck joint; and things are still "bound up" in my liver - "moving, but not done, yet."

I have an issue (!) with the "male principle", something about balancing the dominate (dominating?) traits that have helped me survive with more female traits. :-) Here's the unexpected part: an expansion of my heart that's "actually quite lovely." Gosh. Very specifically located, toward the back, lower left lobe, close to the spine. This was before she had me stand up and - after taking a good long look - said, "You've had a hard time." Yeah, well, not as hard as many, but hard enough, thanks.

changing forget-me-not

this might be the one: water forget-me-not

I need to remember that they are very, very tiny
(proportional photo: field forget-me-not.)

Which are native to Vermont? The wood forget-me-not seems limited to Britain.

Of course I had no idea there are so many different kinds!

Is this one tufted because of the arrangement of flowers on the stalk?

Jung Yup hosted a World Cup event for the Asian-Pacific forces yesterday. It was too bad Australia lost, but the Korea-France match was tense! France had the first ten minutes, then 70 minutes ensued of close calls and tension and growing concern until Korea took the last ten minutes for a 1-1 draw. Very exciting. :-) They didn't quite live up to the banner, "We Go Beyond!" but who knows...they're already gone beyond where some folks expected them to be. FYI - Univision's in-between game coverage (in Spanish) was much more entertaining than ABC's.

I've been resisting watching because I MUST keep FOCUSED on comps. So far so good. Bumped into Gita and Pei at Rao's; one of them was crushed to learn she'd been associated with the losers who celebrated my birthday with me this year. Oh dear. (At least she's not one of Nietzche's frogs.) Then Puru and Tejal came by; he practically dared me to give him a hard time on the blog! He insists his moves away from the women (which began the gender division were motivated only by a desire for food but I'm not sure I'm convinced....

Meanwhile...Nietzsche (online text provided by Ian Johnston of Malaspina University-College, Nanaimo, BC.) I'm reading the Dover Edition, 2003, "an unabridged translation of a standard edition of the 1913 translation by Horace B. Samuel."

"...I am told it is simply a case of old frigid and tedious frogs rawling and hopping around men and inside men, as if they were as thoroughly at home there, as they would be in a swamp" (originally published 1913, p. 10).

I don't think I would particularly enjoy having Nietzsche pissed off at me. He is referring to "English psychologists" and speculating as to their motives for "pushing to the front the [shameful part] of our inner world, and looking for the efficient, governing, and decisive principle in that precise quarter where the intellectual self-respect of the race would be the most reluctant to find it..." (p. 9). He continues that he doesn't wish to believe in their frogdom, rather that they are, "at bottom, brave, proud and magnanimous animals who know how to bridle both their hearts and their smarts, and have specifically trained themselves to sacrifice what is desirable to what is true, any truth in fact, even the simple, bitter, ugly, repulsive, unchristian, and immortal truths - for there are truths of that description" (p. 10).

Don may (?) be encountering one of those truths this evening... :-0

this guy's hot, and I've been delayed finding his blog.

I don't know if his work might correlate with Neil's interest in Roger Penrose or Francis Crick on consciousness....

Finally, the GC has recommended A Hole in the World to me at least twice, in particular the passages on play.

is starting to make sense. I mean, as a language of space and spatial relationships. Who knows if I'll ever actually remember all the rules and how to do various kinds of problems (!), but the logic is finally getting through my thick, thick skull. It may be because I've developed enough depth in the visual/kinesthetic/spatial mode of ASL now for that to provide a cognitive bridge? Or it could be simple repetition. (I won't confess how many times I've taken and/or interpreted algebra, geometry, and other advanced math classes. No, no, I won't!

In Wanda's, mine, the deaf student and non-deaf teacher's on-going discussions about meaningfulness and sign choices, we landed upon the same sign (use of the "B" classifier, moved conceptually in space) for symmetry and reflection. The English definitions use the terms to define each other! I distinguished symmetry as a characteristic of shape (the teacher agreed it's static, not moving) and reflection as an action (the teacher embellished this a more but in general agreed).

In terms of interaction, the deaf student has - on a few occasions - asked us not to sign something as she wants to have a private conversation with us. I feel fine with this except/unless I'm otherwise formally "on" - for instance, standing in the front of the room as the teacher pauses between problems. Norms have developed around the table when the students are working on problems either on their own or in teams in which Wanda and I might chit-chat with non-deaf students or the deaf student depending. I think it's a necessary break from the intensity of the learning process. The teacher commented during one of the first sessions that it must be hard for a deaf student to work (think and learn!) while they're being watched (the interpreter's gaze, eh?).

Another thing I've become more conscious of is really putting myself into the role of the speaker. It's easier to do when the role is one I'm already familiar and comfortable with in other contexts - such as being a teacher. I know how "to do" that. It frees me from the literal, too, and enhances the product of interpretation. :-) The non-deaf students at the table often take on the role of teacher or encourager - or distractor, clown, etc - like normal students. :-) Those interactions are fun and build connection & relationship across the language/culture divide.

Part of fully taking on the teacher role is that it creates more time/space for me to utilize some ASL discourse features such as repetition and emphasis. The linearity of English (any spoken language?) conditions the non-deaf mind to follow thoughts in a linear manner, recognizing when tangents occur - although some folk tend to speak in tangents more than anything else! The simultaneity of ASL, as a visual language, means they perceive information in/on a broader plane - there is no automatic prioritization of 'a line' (theme, subject, topic) that is conditioned by language. The line-of-thinking has to be built, created constantly through direct reference that re-anchors the topic, subject, etc.

Now we're discussing functions. [Note: a positivistic way of knowing (there are other ways to know, smile).] No lexical equivalent here, only a code. :-(

Inverse is not exactly opposite, btw, and a regression - WOW - we were way off on that one! It is not a simple reduction or decrease (such as indicated by a "decline" down the arm).

"regression. A mathematical relationship between two variables (eg, the height and weight of women in Australia). For simplicity, the relationship is often taken to be a linear one (ie, a straight line when plotted), but it can also be a curve. When the regression relationship for the variables is known, we can predict the approximate value of one variable from the value of the other."

"Regression: A form of statistical modelling that attempts to evaluate the relationship between one variable (termed the dependent variable) and one or more other variables (termed the independent variables). It is a form of global analysis as it only produces a single equation for the relationship thus not allowing any variation across the study area. Geographically Weighted Regression is a local analysis form of regression."

Never too soon to plan! (ha)

Dates of religious observances this fall.

The Academic Calendar.

I had more fun yesterday evening than I have had in a long time. :-) I'm not convinced of my own skill as a conversationalist, but I'm pleased that I know so many people who are talented in this regard. It also felt good (!) to be wished well on my anticipated travels by so many. Of course, such is returned to all! (Hmm, kinda mushy, huh?!)

I'm reading Bakhtin, experiencing a string of those phenomenological moments that lend themselves to a more mystical form of epistemology. Check this out:

"The chronotope of the encounter; in such a chronotope the temporal element predominates, and it is marked by a higher degree of intensity in emotions and values. The chronotope of the road associated with encounter is characterized by a broader scope, but by a somewhat lesser degree of emotional and evaluative intensity. [thank heaven!] ... The road is a particularly good place for random encounters. On the road ('the high road'), the spatial and temporal paths of the most varied people - representatives of all social classes, estates, religions, nationalities, ages - intersect at one spatial and temporal point. People who are normally kept separate by social and spatial distance can accidentally meet; any contrast may crop up, the most various fates may collide and interweave with one another. On the road the spatial and temporal series defining human fates and lives combine with one another in distinctive ways, even as they become more complex and more concrete by the collapse of social distance. The chronotope of the road is both a point of new departures and a place for events to find their denouement. Time, as it were, fuses together with space and flow in it (forming the road)..." (Forms of Time and Chronotope in the Novel, in The Dialogic Imagination, 1981, p. 243-244).

In addition to this coincidence, I was given the best belated (by two years!) birthday present imaginable. I investigated some of the tips on choosing a name ...my first choice is already taken. Here's Bakhtin again:

"“Essential to these three figures [rogue, clown, fool] is a distinctive feature that is as well a privilege – the right to be ‘other’ in this world, the right not to make common cause with any single one of the existing categories that life makes available; none of these categories quite suits them, they see the underside and the falseness of every situation…” (p. 159).

There's a bit of "full circle" magic to reading all this now as it was the first place I went outside of the assigned curriculum of courses. And you know what? It got blogged! Leda Leda Leda, it seems you knew where I was headed . . .

Oo Oo Oo - "News from the Profession discusses tutoring with ESL students!

And an application to Henry James The Golden Bowl.

Bahktin is a fan of Menippean satire, which he describes as "dialogic, full of parodies and travesties, multi-styled, and does not fear elements of bilingualism...Menippean satire can expand into a huge picture, offering a realistic reflection of the socially varied and heteroglot world of contemporary life" (Epic and Novel, p. 27).

"One may, and in fact, one must memorialize with artistic language only that which is worthy of being remembered, that which should be preserved in the memory of descendents; an image is created for descendents, and this image is projected on to their sublime and distant horizon. Contemporaneity for its own sake (that is to say, a contemporaneity that makes no claim on future memory) is molded in clay; contemporaneity for the future (for descendents) is molded in marble or bronze" (Epic and Novel, p. 19).

Or inscribed in cyberspace? ;-)

My dentist told me (as he ripped out some seven ancient fillings to make way for two new crowns) that my bite is eccentric. (He'll have to tell me if bruxism is at fault.) He used the term, properly spelled eccentric but pronounced e-centric, to simply mean off-center. We couldn't help but notice, however, the common use of eccentric to be a potentially apt descriptor of yours truly. {gasp!}

He gave me quite the hard time for my "thrilling" reading material. (We'll see if I go back to him again, hmmph!)

My new roomie and his pals are into it, though. Not that it was a subject of discussion last night, instead, as we ate our scrumptious dinner last night Smita and I both noticed the gender division: men at the table, women in the living room. We teasingly applauded ourselves for having a higher order conversation. Within minutes, while we were discussing the 1970’s Emergency in India, the men become quite animated regarding hairstyles.

That sums up the meterosexual portion of the evening. (Perhaps I can inspire more political discussion?) Prior to this, however, Sourya tried to set me right regarding quantum mechanics...a "pillar" of physics that I think can be a metaphor (and vice-versa?) for human relations.

Yesterday I inquired about the cost and timing of mailing my entry application to Iran via Federal Express. Guess what? "Service temporarily suspended." FedEx is not going to Iran these days. THEN I checked in with the on-campus travel agent, got a decent deal on the airfare to Turkey (as in less expensive than any other option, although I have a "forced overnight" in Madrid on the return), but from Istanbul to Shiraz? There are "no participating carriers." Of course there are existing flights but apparently (?) not being sold to US students? I did get info from another travel agency, so I don't think it's impossible...although she also informs me that

"Please also note that in checking further about entering Iran, you will be required to have “several” copies of your passport picture and well as copies of your passport and will need to check in with the local police within 8 days of your arrival. You may want to verify this further, but this is information that I was able to find within my system."

It is getting hard, eh? And after all the seduction from the universe to get me to leave the country this summer...geez!

Gotta get the passport photo changed in Boston.

I was introduced to the granth at a gurudwara last night, ate langar (delicious!), and made eye contact with the granthi. The latter happened twice, once while I was veiled (during the service, happy), once when I wasn't (departing, not so?) The veil hides my hairstyle, y'know? :-o

The most fundamental principle of the Sikh religion is seva.

Need advice? I'm feeling a bit out-of-place this morning, so I decided to "take hukamnama: I received Page 721.

The granth is written in Gurmukhi.

I received quite the welcome to my primary lodging for the rest of this month. First of all, my bedroom has glow-in-the-dark stars. How cool is that?!! I've always wanted them. :-)

Then, a spectacular meal by Neil and spirited discussion from Sai and Satya. What got us going is a book by Tariq Ali about the 1960s, Street Fighting Years. It is a sad commentary on my own education as a representation of general U.S. myopia, but I really didn't know that the civil, social, and political turbulence of the 1960s was a global phenomena.

A few features of our interaction impressed me: the vigor of disagreements and that these lacked animosity, episodes of silence punctuating the exchange, and the sheer pace and density of thoughtfulness these young men possess. My own contributions felt fumbling and awkward by comparison. I recognize the vitality as a characteristic of youth (!) but also as indicative of intellectual and emotional presence: these young men have been actively aware of and engaged with their own lives and the world around them. Each of them is younger than I was when it first pierced my consciousness that such perception was even possible!

I'm looking forward to more debate. :-) In particular I'm eager to test an observation about a tendency toward extremes. One theme involved the experience of oppression and whether or not a member of a targeted group, such as African-Americans in the US, might prefer the overt racism of the South to the covert racism of the North. This was taken to the furthest ends of the continuum of violence: "I would prefer any day to live where I could sit down at a table with a white man instead of where I could be killed."

Of course! It's in the middle range of these extremes that the question becomes intriguing. Where is the boundary between tolerance and acceptance, to what extent is one valued over the other, under which conditions and circumstances, to what ends? I often reflect on the amount of tolerance I encountered during my most passionate, public activism. While I dwelt in the possibility of acceptance (presenting it as a challenge more than an invitation [aha!]), it was the tension itself that was instructive and compelling. That none of my exertions brought me into contact with direct violence seems coincidental - a coincidence of white-skin and apparent middle-class privilege and the good fortune not to encounter someone prone to violence at a vulnerable moment.

I have to re-do my passport to include a photo with me respecting the Islamic dress code. Opinions? I grinned for the camera but then caught myself - maybe I should not look like the goofus I often am?!

The young man who took my photo first said I couldn't wear the scarf but when I said I had to he didn't object. We'll see what trouble I have at the Passport Office.

Meanwhile, a three week deadline has been set for Iran to respond to the incentive package and stop enriching uranium. They resumed such enrichment the same day that the incentive package was delivered, as if "to underscore its often stated determination not to be bullied into accepting any deal requiring it to end activities related to uranium enrichment." I have to say, it makes sense to me that they want to preserve their own "inalienable rights" under the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. However, there do seem to be hints of willingness for some kind of suspension as long as the rights are not infringed.

What's frightening about the whole situation is the prospect of a second Cold War in which the threat of nuclear attack is perceived as the most effective line of defense in a battle along ideological lines. Part of what feeds fear, too, are concerns about connections between Iran and Iraq.

My best friend, RAL, is still freaking out that I am trying to go to Iran. She's convinced Bush will bomb in less than 60 days. It's true that if G.W. Bush is set on hastening a worldwide conflagration that might simulate the biblical end times this would be a way to do it. What a wager that is, eh? I think he's too rational for that, despite his version of megalomania. We'll see?

My mom told me last night she wasn't going to say anything about it. She had already told me that during her global travels she'd had the opportunity and chosen not to go to Iran (in the late '50's), deeming it too dangerous. Last night, however, she told me she did go to Jerusalem "between the two wars" - after WWII and the Six-Day War. My grandmother also was bold during her teens, driving from Illinois to California with a couple of girlfriends one summer, at the dawn of the Roaring Twenties.

Granted, I'm a bit older than my teens - although some friends still dispute my developmental age. :-)

This was how the interpreter's role was described by the leader of a group responding to a direct curiousity about the interpreter's experience of interpreting in this particular setting. "Wanda" and I were given the amazing opportunity to, as she said, "discuss with a group that we're not members of how we aren't members of their group."

It was awesome. :-) It's the last day of a training seminar in which one of the themes is the on-going development of the group (yes, I have been in heaven!) As they are checking in, the last person to do so says that she'd be interested in the interpreters' experience. The leader runs with it. She summarizes a range of issues/questions using it as a teaching moment: are members of the group more attentive to individuals or the whole group, where is the boundary of the group, are we "in" or "out" of that boundary, what does it mean to notice/not notice us, etc. [I didn't even pay her to ask these questions!] [I'd have given some kind of bribe, though, to have been able to tape it!!!]

One of the most amazing elements of being an interpreter is the way we get to peek in so many of society's windows. It is a somewhat voyeuristic job. Not that every job is exactly intimate, but one is trying to be "in" other people's internal space - to sense and convey their intentions and desires, their thoughts and their feelings. All without getting drawn in, of course!

I've interpreted in court, college math, mental health, various graduation events, a technology training, and a dance class all in one week. I see the workings of the legal, educational and medical systems as their employees interact with consumers of all ambitions - from those who just want the service to activists for social change. I experience individuals who take to the interpreted situation like they've been doing it their whole life, and others who are discombobulated to the point of dysfunction.

It's thrilling (you can choose whether or not to take this as a commentary on the rest of my life!) when a non-deaf person and a deaf person engage each other deeply around a subject. It's also cool when interpreters collaborate regarding meaning. The 20 minutes we spent coming up with the distinction between "variable" as a general concept, and "a specific variable" was well worth it; as was our revisiting the notion of symmetry repeatedly until we fell upon a sign (perhaps it fell upon us?!) that captures both the reflective, mirror qualities and the reverse parallelism.

[I know there are Deaf mathematicians, ASL scholars, and interpreters who have developed vocabularies for these technical terms. It seems many people revert to a code instead of doing the hard work of discovering an equivalent concept in the target language. Have I written about this already?!]

There's also the question of movement. There is the obvious interactional quality that is evoked when the Deaf person(s) actually have to turn their head (!) to locate the speaker/interpreter but more deeply than this is, I believe, something that happens with the language of the group. This time, when I say "language", I don't mean ASL or English, I mean the particular vocabulary and ways of talking that each group establishes over the course of group development. Do we tease or stay on topic always? Are asides allowed? Can we interrupt? Some folks call these norms. The issue with norms is how rigid or flexible they are; this varies from group to group, and within groups from time to time.

I have an opinion that if the interpreter physically moves to "follow the sound" of the English, the language is less restricted and norms can develop that are more inclusive and egalitarian. When the interpreter "plants" our butt in one spot, we essentially "force" all that moving, flowing interactive linguistic output to channel itself through us. This heightens our power in a nonproductive way - it grants us much more control but not necessarily in a way that generates more accessibility. I also don't think it does much for building relationships among deaf and non-deaf interlocutors because too often the non-deaf person is out of view.

[Note: I just did a google search to define interlocutor and it's a bad word in terms of diction: not the best choice because too many of the definitions emphasize speaking for someone and having no power....it's more of an interpreter's role.] Darn!

Linguistic puzzles in math persist:

Bill Maher has an interview in Time (June 5, 2006) in which he laments people's reluctance to be provocative:

"I wouldn't say there's censorship in this country. But there's a lot of peer pressure. Because when anybody says anything that's the least bit feather ruffling, everybody just goes nuts. If anybody in this country is forced to undergo a single moment of discomfort, the person who caused it just must go away."

sigh

Later in the issue, Joe Klein encourages Obama to run now while he's still fresh, before he is "wizened by the accepted limits of the possible."

NPR reported last night on "the two Democrats fighting in Tuesday's primary to take on vulnerable GOP Sen. Conrad Burns in November." The debate is rife with morality - Burns received funds from indicted lobbyist Jack Abramoff, one of the Democratic challengers, John Morrison, had a strong lead until news of a former affair became public. Here's a summary of standings as of two weeks ago.

NPR reported this morning that Iran's chief nuclear negotiator, Ali Larijani, responded positively to the offers of trade incentives with the US, although he also identified some parts of the proposal as "ambiguous."

Of note regarding Iran's cautious reaction to trade incentives indicates a continuation of a shift in dynamics begun last week when President Bush finally conceded direct talks were necessary.

It's not a done deal yet, but "Just-in-Time" might have located me a place to hang for the rest of June. And none too soon as Elizabeth's hospitality is not to be taken casually! I'd gain 100 pounds if I stayed here for very long!

JIT also relayed a joke about (me?) becoming a spinster. Actually, the joke was about how spinsters are related to strong young men. Through their cats. Do you think this means he might yet agree to keep Mei-Mei for the summer while I'm gone? I am gonna be gone . . . I think. Timing is tight, but various bits keep falling into place...

The movie JIT selected for our viewing pleasure was intended to inspire my pending visit to Iran. The Suitors, however, does not live up to its billing as half-Hitchcock (sortof) and half-Lucille Ball (hardly). We tolerated it after realizing it was made in 1988. A few of the opening scenes with the sheep were mildly humorous. And JIT giggled quite a bit at the end when my early sympathy for the woman under siege turned out to have been premature. Oh well.

We did not dicuss critical realism this time (because we were living it). Nothing like your upstairs neighbors blasting rock-n-roll while doing aerobics at 4 am!

(also the tentative title for the longest overdue incomplete paper in my own personal academic history)

From May 31, Iran wants to talk. And surprise of all surprises, Bush has agreed. We'll see how long it lasts (?) since he considered talks a last resort. (Hello?) The question is whether it's real diplomacy or simply public relations.

As the rhetoric continues to unfold, pending sanctions sought by the US from the UN Security Council have been frozen. Iran dismisses the condition of suspending uranium enrichment but it seems evident that a breakthrough of some sort has occurred.

Today, the Iranians reassert some of their bedrock principles, Iran Won't Bow to Pressure, which the White House dismisses as a "negotiating position." According to the timeline sketched in articles the past few days, the offer of incentives hasn't even officially been made, and once it is presented the Iranian government will have some weeks to consider their response. Pundits here aren't slowing down with their own assertions about the so-called "only ...resolution worth talking about".

My host of last evening, a Gardenfaire, turns out to be a travel agent (who knew!) and turned me on to more info about getting a visa to Iran.

I need to be invited (1) via "special authorization in the form of a reference number issued by the Foreign Ministry in Tehran."

I also need to renew my passport (even though it is still in effect) with a new photograph: "Women must wear a headscarf (covering their hair but not their face) in the photos or else they will be rejected."

Time may run out :-( but I hope not . . . the recent change in US policy makes this an even more opportune time to go.