What exactly can one make of the vice presidential candidates?
Joseph Biden is a logical, if slightly conventional selection. Due to his long and illustrious career as a senator, he carries a good deal of automatic name recognition, has diverse experience in foreign policy, and is a fearsome debater. He does, of course, also occasionally have lapses in tact; most recently, he made headlines by memorably describing—of all people—Senator Obama as an “articulate and bright and clean” African-American, a slippery kind of qualification which although strictly true probably had racial overtones. To some, this is precisely Biden’s charm; he’s an ordinary, plainspoken guy with a degree from a state school, a conventional upbringing, and the manners to match. And as far as proper political affairs are concerned, his inclusion does shore up support in some critical areas, namely among those who were concerned about Obama’s lack of experience in foreign policy, those who were concerned about his lack of experience in general, and those who had concerns about his so-called “elitism.” On the balance, Biden completes the ticket as well as did anyone else in the selection field.
Sarah Palin, on the other hand, is something of a baffling choice. One’s immediate analysis is almost embarrassing in its simplicity; is it actually possible that the GOP has blown its vice president pick to pander to disenfranchised women angered by what they saw as Hillary’s active exclusion from the process? It’s always important to remember the immense sophistication and nuance of the GOP political machine and their proven track record, but what else could it possibly be? Ms. Palin’s dossier certainly doesn’t suggest otherwise; she’s inexperienced, nullifying their own mantra, and she’s a governor sequestered in a non-contiguous state with little influence over national policy in an election of senators with national experience. And although she is rather popular in her home state, she has virtually no name recognition in the rest of the country and is currently under investigation. So supposing the vagina gambit to be the case, this stupid and transparent maneuver fails for two reasons: not only will Hillary’s supporters never flock to McCain en masse, he has lost his own critical opportunity to rally his native constituency.
On the first, neither McCain nor Ms. Palin represent the political interests of Clinton’s prospective voters. No woman who considers herself a Clinton feminist will cast a ballot for a duo who don’t favor coverage for contraceptives and don’t support abortion rights. The so-called “disenfranchised” will continue to complain vociferously, and a few might even abstain in November, but those who cross the aisle will do so in small numbers. With her gracious Wednesday night speech, Clinton herself saw to that. And on the second, he has lost his only opportunity to mute the objections of his detractors on the far right, who remember his moderate, “maverick” rhetoric. Selecting someone with strong conservative credentials was the only way to avoid a severely depressed evangelical vote, and he effectively sealed it. Palin has some conservative positions, certainly, but not all of the correct ones, and not in the preferred tradition. The ticket remains without genuine credibility.
Based on all of this, I can only make the following conjecture: Palin was obviously not a departmental selection, and was certainly not the choice of the mainstream GOP consortium. Senator McCain must have made this choice largely—if not entirely—by himself, relatively free from outside influence. Romney, Pawlenty, Ridge, Lieberman, and a host of others, despite their weaknesses, are much better and more qualified choices. Palin is at best an unorthodox choice, and at worst a fatal mistake.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
The Great Leap Forward
Farewell, Beijing. Farewell, and good riddance.
I do, of course, acknowledge that that it was a kind of success, especially for us. Depending on the figures one uses—that is, depending on the person asked—we earned either first or second place, not taking the most gold medals but winning the most medals overall. In Michael Phelps, we had an athlete so dominant that he completely marginalized the rest of the field, set an astonishing seven world records and did not fail to win the gold in any event in which he competed. A few events were marred with atrocious officiating—and in the case of the uneven bars, also nonsensical and arbitrary algorithms—and frequently, we still managed to win. And as usual and most encouragingly, many other teams from around the globe emerged from their apparent obscurity to provide us with that characteristic and timeless sense of excitement. Even the opening ceremony was a marvel—which, at $100 million USD, it certainly ought to have been—and for four hours, it captured the imagination of the world.
But our hosts? Disgraceful, in a word.
This was to be their glorious debut, the pivotal moment at which they would symbolically join the rest of the developed world, but instead, it’s just been yet another indicator of how backward they are.
The Chinese authorities, of course, rebuffed all objections on the grounds that the Olympics must be free of politics. This is mostly disingenuous, but also downright stupid; how could it be? And, for that matter, why should it be? Should the crowd in attendance at the opening ceremony have fallen silent upon the entrance of the Iranian team, or not? Should the United States and others have boycotted the Games altogether, or should we have not? The Olympics are highly political, always have been, and always must be, from before the host is decided until the extinguishment of the eternal flame. And the Chinese government handled it in a predictably political way.
They promised not to engage in the electronic surveillance of their guests, and they did. They promised to clean up their air, and they didn’t. They forged official documents to circumvent important official regulations, and now they’ve conscripted the IOC into covering their tracks. Now, these are all standard fare as far as evil machinations go, but what is indicative is the sad little controversy which surrounded the opening ceremony itself.
It was later revealed by Chen Qigang, the Olympics’ music director, that the adorable little girl who appeared to have sung the Chinese anthem Ode to the Motherland was not actually the vocalist. Yang Peiyi—the true vocalist—was originally to have performed it live, but a party official objected to her appearance, so Yang’s wonderful voice was used and the more “photogenic” Lin Miaoke was used as an actor. Now, the problem with these Milli-Vanilli-inspired shenanigans is not the sheer superficiality of it, of course; for better or worse, everyone makes decisions on that basis. The problem is their callousness, and the fact that they didn’t make the slightest attempt to either apologize or explain. “The audience will understand that it’s in the national interest,” Chen told Beijing Radio. Indeed.
Why, in light of legitimate human rights violations, is this important? The short answer is simply that it isn’t. After all, Yang, Lin, and everyone else in the “People” part of “PRC” probably had no part in it. And even if they did, it’s unlikely they had a choice.
Actually, as it turns out, the long answer is exactly the same.
I do, of course, acknowledge that that it was a kind of success, especially for us. Depending on the figures one uses—that is, depending on the person asked—we earned either first or second place, not taking the most gold medals but winning the most medals overall. In Michael Phelps, we had an athlete so dominant that he completely marginalized the rest of the field, set an astonishing seven world records and did not fail to win the gold in any event in which he competed. A few events were marred with atrocious officiating—and in the case of the uneven bars, also nonsensical and arbitrary algorithms—and frequently, we still managed to win. And as usual and most encouragingly, many other teams from around the globe emerged from their apparent obscurity to provide us with that characteristic and timeless sense of excitement. Even the opening ceremony was a marvel—which, at $100 million USD, it certainly ought to have been—and for four hours, it captured the imagination of the world.
But our hosts? Disgraceful, in a word.
This was to be their glorious debut, the pivotal moment at which they would symbolically join the rest of the developed world, but instead, it’s just been yet another indicator of how backward they are.
The Chinese authorities, of course, rebuffed all objections on the grounds that the Olympics must be free of politics. This is mostly disingenuous, but also downright stupid; how could it be? And, for that matter, why should it be? Should the crowd in attendance at the opening ceremony have fallen silent upon the entrance of the Iranian team, or not? Should the United States and others have boycotted the Games altogether, or should we have not? The Olympics are highly political, always have been, and always must be, from before the host is decided until the extinguishment of the eternal flame. And the Chinese government handled it in a predictably political way.
They promised not to engage in the electronic surveillance of their guests, and they did. They promised to clean up their air, and they didn’t. They forged official documents to circumvent important official regulations, and now they’ve conscripted the IOC into covering their tracks. Now, these are all standard fare as far as evil machinations go, but what is indicative is the sad little controversy which surrounded the opening ceremony itself.
It was later revealed by Chen Qigang, the Olympics’ music director, that the adorable little girl who appeared to have sung the Chinese anthem Ode to the Motherland was not actually the vocalist. Yang Peiyi—the true vocalist—was originally to have performed it live, but a party official objected to her appearance, so Yang’s wonderful voice was used and the more “photogenic” Lin Miaoke was used as an actor. Now, the problem with these Milli-Vanilli-inspired shenanigans is not the sheer superficiality of it, of course; for better or worse, everyone makes decisions on that basis. The problem is their callousness, and the fact that they didn’t make the slightest attempt to either apologize or explain. “The audience will understand that it’s in the national interest,” Chen told Beijing Radio. Indeed.
Why, in light of legitimate human rights violations, is this important? The short answer is simply that it isn’t. After all, Yang, Lin, and everyone else in the “People” part of “PRC” probably had no part in it. And even if they did, it’s unlikely they had a choice.
Actually, as it turns out, the long answer is exactly the same.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Uncontrolled Spending, In My SGA? It's More Likely Than You Think.
The recent increases in tuition at Kansas universities have in recent years become something of a cautionary tale in public finance, but the data from this season is downright encouraging: although the final arbitration on the Board of Regents proposal isn’t to occur until tomorrow, it will likely amount to an increase of about six percent, the lowest nominal bump in tuition any current student will have ever enjoyed during his or her tenure. (By comparison, due to budget cuts in Topeka, our tuition has doubled since 2002.) The Regents’ modest proposal is even more remarkable given the collapsing scenery of the economy; depending on the source, this paltry increase might not even cover the damage dealt by our unfettered inflation. The managers of the university’s appropriations have clearly done their homework this year—on paper, at least.
But nonetheless, are we, as our financial advisors suggest to us in boiler-room parlance, making our money work for us, or is the cost of college simply yet another avenue in which we are being taken for a ride? (The Princeton Review has a reassuring response, continuing to include K-State as one of its highly respected “Top Five Best Bargains.”) Anyone with a soupçon of common sense knows how progressively more critical the imperative is for a college degree in the professional arena; the wage gap between college graduate and non-graduate is at $20,000 per year, and it shows no sign of settling down. And if I may argue with my tongue only slightly in my cheek—and as always, I relish the opportunity—I will submit the following claim: especially in light of the current fiscal landscape, this tuition increase is not only predictable but wholly inescapable, and furthermore, precisely what we deserve.
At a time when the dollar buys a third of the fuel it did only a few years ago, and unemployment sits at over five percent, our student body just recently—via the “democratic” method of the general referendum—approved of a $24 million addition to the Rec Center. And, of course, we mustn’t forget the $30 million with which we parted ways the year before last, when we authorized the construction of a parking garage in front of the student union. Are these prudent uses of our resources? Of course not. And never mind how our senate and the tyrannical majority sanctioned such self-evidently foolish expenditures, how did they ever survive long enough to reach a ballot in the first place?
Because the student body, for all its whining and white noise, doesn’t actually care. How much time has the average student spent examining the proceedings of our student senate or state legislature? Clearly not enough. (This ostensibly boring activity reaps considerable dividends—the frivolity of some of the resolutions are alone worth the price of admission, and the bills themselves raise the question of exactly which groups don’t get funding, rather than vice versa. As discomforted as I am to be channeling Rep. Ron Paul, the fact every legislative body up to and including the U.S. Senate engages in such misbehavior is certainly not any kind of license for our own legislative bodies to do so. All official SGA documents, including the minutes, are available for your perusal at http://www.k-state.edu/osas/sga/documents.htm.)
I don’t often speak for the conservative, but it must be said: any person who supported of either of the two aforementioned major expenditures—or others like them—has forfeited his or her entitlement to complain about the costs of tuition, and it’s the job of the conservative to continually reassert that rule. And for once, his job is essential; our paychecks really do lie in the balance.
But nonetheless, are we, as our financial advisors suggest to us in boiler-room parlance, making our money work for us, or is the cost of college simply yet another avenue in which we are being taken for a ride? (The Princeton Review has a reassuring response, continuing to include K-State as one of its highly respected “Top Five Best Bargains.”) Anyone with a soupçon of common sense knows how progressively more critical the imperative is for a college degree in the professional arena; the wage gap between college graduate and non-graduate is at $20,000 per year, and it shows no sign of settling down. And if I may argue with my tongue only slightly in my cheek—and as always, I relish the opportunity—I will submit the following claim: especially in light of the current fiscal landscape, this tuition increase is not only predictable but wholly inescapable, and furthermore, precisely what we deserve.
At a time when the dollar buys a third of the fuel it did only a few years ago, and unemployment sits at over five percent, our student body just recently—via the “democratic” method of the general referendum—approved of a $24 million addition to the Rec Center. And, of course, we mustn’t forget the $30 million with which we parted ways the year before last, when we authorized the construction of a parking garage in front of the student union. Are these prudent uses of our resources? Of course not. And never mind how our senate and the tyrannical majority sanctioned such self-evidently foolish expenditures, how did they ever survive long enough to reach a ballot in the first place?
Because the student body, for all its whining and white noise, doesn’t actually care. How much time has the average student spent examining the proceedings of our student senate or state legislature? Clearly not enough. (This ostensibly boring activity reaps considerable dividends—the frivolity of some of the resolutions are alone worth the price of admission, and the bills themselves raise the question of exactly which groups don’t get funding, rather than vice versa. As discomforted as I am to be channeling Rep. Ron Paul, the fact every legislative body up to and including the U.S. Senate engages in such misbehavior is certainly not any kind of license for our own legislative bodies to do so. All official SGA documents, including the minutes, are available for your perusal at http://www.k-state.edu/osas/sga/documents.htm.)
I don’t often speak for the conservative, but it must be said: any person who supported of either of the two aforementioned major expenditures—or others like them—has forfeited his or her entitlement to complain about the costs of tuition, and it’s the job of the conservative to continually reassert that rule. And for once, his job is essential; our paychecks really do lie in the balance.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
An Analytic Defense of Waffle Fries
One cannot take the particulars of potatoes too seriously.
To establish a hierarchy is necessary; to crown the waffle variety king of that hierarchy is obvious; to offer a defense of such a position is effortless. And why should that be? The manifest weakness of the competition? We could distract ourselves with a drawn-out discussion of third-party candidates—the road too well-traveled—but most of the lot can be summarized in the space following the semicolon of a single sentence; steak fries are mushy, shoestring fries are gritty, and almost everything else is either too trivial or too ordinary.
Curly fries do deserve their very own special rebuttal, if only for their startlingly effective frivolity. Why have so many bought into the curly cult, anyway? “They’re curly,” the apologists lamely assert, as if novelty alone could serve a legitimate function. “They’re so spicy and peppery, so savory; how could one fail to appreciate that?”
And what should be said about this seasoning? As is the case with tasteless little outfits like Arby’s, this so-called seasoning isn’t anything more than a crude preparation of paprika and onion powder glued onto a flash-frozen product. So why engage in this unashamed debasement of their fries? What have they to hide? Need one wear a flamboyant necktie if the suit is Savile Row? Need a scrumptious porterhouse from a Michelin three-star be saturated in A1? Need a thirty-year Balvenie ever be found in a highball glass cavorting with cola—or even ice cubes, for that matter? (And if your answer to any of these is “yes,” fine, insist on having it your way; murder the steak, machine-wash the suit, mix the scotch, who cares what you do?) The implication here indicts itself.
But even if one were still to be concerned or convinced by the seasoning thesis, one mustn’t allow one’s opponents to suggest that it is truly any kind of point in their favor; just because curly fries often happen to be seasoned does not preclude waffle fries receiving the same treatment. And indeed, wonderful seasoned waffle fries are extant in proper restaurants across America. And while we’re on the subject on versatility: unlike their inferior cousins, waffle fries can also serve as delightful substitutes for tortilla chips with queso, and they are more solidly structured to hold ketchup or mayonnaise. They’re not only the greater canvas, but the greater brush as well.
But one still might have reservations about it, about the superiority of the form. Thus, we have left the most profound and most devastating point for last; curly fries must, by nature of their structure, be either chewier or mushier than waffle fries. If a curler doesn’t fry his wares long enough, they are damned to a rubbery, underdone fate, and if he fries them too long, they exchange their characteristic bounciness for a mushy, dry, and separated existence. And there is no happy medium, but rather only an intermediate wasteland in which the hapless consumer is treated to the consequences of both weaknesses. Contrast this to the rather stable nature of the waffle fry, which remains solid and palatable even when overdone. And of course, when they’re prepared properly, their high surface-to-mass ratio ensures a crispy shell with a buttery, molten center, something that by its physical nature, the curly fry could never hope to attain.
So whether in application and practice, it seems we can regardless observe the superiority of the waffle paradigm. In all, we are fortunate to have a Chik-Fil-A—the industry leader in the waffle style—in our student union, and for those who have weaned on stale, chewy fare like that served up routinely at ordinary fast-food joints, hand-cut waffle fries are a revelation, and nothing else will ever suffice.
To establish a hierarchy is necessary; to crown the waffle variety king of that hierarchy is obvious; to offer a defense of such a position is effortless. And why should that be? The manifest weakness of the competition? We could distract ourselves with a drawn-out discussion of third-party candidates—the road too well-traveled—but most of the lot can be summarized in the space following the semicolon of a single sentence; steak fries are mushy, shoestring fries are gritty, and almost everything else is either too trivial or too ordinary.
Curly fries do deserve their very own special rebuttal, if only for their startlingly effective frivolity. Why have so many bought into the curly cult, anyway? “They’re curly,” the apologists lamely assert, as if novelty alone could serve a legitimate function. “They’re so spicy and peppery, so savory; how could one fail to appreciate that?”
And what should be said about this seasoning? As is the case with tasteless little outfits like Arby’s, this so-called seasoning isn’t anything more than a crude preparation of paprika and onion powder glued onto a flash-frozen product. So why engage in this unashamed debasement of their fries? What have they to hide? Need one wear a flamboyant necktie if the suit is Savile Row? Need a scrumptious porterhouse from a Michelin three-star be saturated in A1? Need a thirty-year Balvenie ever be found in a highball glass cavorting with cola—or even ice cubes, for that matter? (And if your answer to any of these is “yes,” fine, insist on having it your way; murder the steak, machine-wash the suit, mix the scotch, who cares what you do?) The implication here indicts itself.
But even if one were still to be concerned or convinced by the seasoning thesis, one mustn’t allow one’s opponents to suggest that it is truly any kind of point in their favor; just because curly fries often happen to be seasoned does not preclude waffle fries receiving the same treatment. And indeed, wonderful seasoned waffle fries are extant in proper restaurants across America. And while we’re on the subject on versatility: unlike their inferior cousins, waffle fries can also serve as delightful substitutes for tortilla chips with queso, and they are more solidly structured to hold ketchup or mayonnaise. They’re not only the greater canvas, but the greater brush as well.
But one still might have reservations about it, about the superiority of the form. Thus, we have left the most profound and most devastating point for last; curly fries must, by nature of their structure, be either chewier or mushier than waffle fries. If a curler doesn’t fry his wares long enough, they are damned to a rubbery, underdone fate, and if he fries them too long, they exchange their characteristic bounciness for a mushy, dry, and separated existence. And there is no happy medium, but rather only an intermediate wasteland in which the hapless consumer is treated to the consequences of both weaknesses. Contrast this to the rather stable nature of the waffle fry, which remains solid and palatable even when overdone. And of course, when they’re prepared properly, their high surface-to-mass ratio ensures a crispy shell with a buttery, molten center, something that by its physical nature, the curly fry could never hope to attain.
So whether in application and practice, it seems we can regardless observe the superiority of the waffle paradigm. In all, we are fortunate to have a Chik-Fil-A—the industry leader in the waffle style—in our student union, and for those who have weaned on stale, chewy fare like that served up routinely at ordinary fast-food joints, hand-cut waffle fries are a revelation, and nothing else will ever suffice.
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