Sunday, July 10, 2011

Another School Year, Another Institution

Howdy all,

I meant to write this sooner yet summer sails at a brisk pace. I'm leaving Queens to mosey along up the interstate back to UNCC. (I received a nice offer and wanted to do the right thing for my family.)

I'm sad because I've loved everything about teaching at Queens, especially spending time with such a fine group of students. (I also loved my time at UNCC, so things are fine.)

I'll miss each of you.

Trust that I'll visit campus often -- you know how close I live -- and that I'll continue to see your soccer, tennis, lacrosse, basketball games; your chorale concerts, plays, readings.

And it's always possible I'll be back teaching in the hollowed halls of McEwen before you graduate. (Teaching can be highly nomadic, which makes life interesting.)

Drop me a line sometime; my Queens email account remains active. AND, lest you forget how to operate a folder, revisit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EI6jWEREJ94

Remember: hang tight. This big ball we walk upon is spinning at 1,000+ miles per hour.

Malcolm

Friday, February 4, 2011

Facebook's Ads and What Do "THEY" Know?

After reading more about Facebook in our book, "The Facebook Effect," and becoming more aware that the company's revenues are generated by selling what they know about us, I'm paying attention to the ads that appear on the right side of my home page. Here, then, is a quick examination of today's ads:

CHARLOTTE's BUCKET LIST: 365 Things to do In Charlotte Before You Die

This ad features a picture of a guy riding a super bike (think Ninja-type rocket ship) with one-wheel. Does Facebook know that in the past week I've had pneumonia plus seen my physician for "thunder clap" headaches that led me to an "emergency" brain CAT scan to check for a leaking aneurysm? I wonder.

Unfortunately for the advertisers (and any students who would trade my fading away for an "A" for the semester -- and who can blame you?), I have no leaking aneurysm and my anthrax-killing antibiotic has me officially on the mend. (I get to return to exercise today.)

At 43 years old -- for a long time I thought I was 44, so imagine how happy I was when Lauren corrected me and gave me another year of my life back) -- am I now in the "Bucket-List"-of-life stage? Any suggestions on what I ought to do?

EARN YOUR MASTER'S IN EDUCATION ONLINE

This ad features a photograph of a successful-looking individual (with a LOT of hair), wearing a SUIT (maybe I should work on my wardrobe), and removing his tortoise-shell-pattered glasses to look off into a bright future.

So, now "THEY" (who's "they"?) know: I have a Masters of Fine Arts degree in Writing, not teaching, and they seem to think I'd be better equipped to teach you if I earn my Masters in Education. Online? Does that mean "THEY" know I have children and am not likely to travel to a graduate program because that would uproot my family (if they decided to join me -- see next ad)? Or might it mean that their (again - who is "they" of "their"?) profile of me suggests I'm not fit for face-to-face interaction and am better left to pursue my education in pajamas, interacting with fellow students and professors through cyber space, where everyone is safe from my unshaven, Twinkie-diet-fed, disheveled self? I wonder. Worst of all, how did "THEY" know I don't have much hair and would gladly go for an online masters of Ed degree if it would sprout some hair for me?  Wait -- this is simple. "They" have seen my profile picture.

Sadly, for "them," I'm not in a financial position to pay for more school.

MEET THE IDEAL REALTOR FOR YOU

So here we have what looks like the exact same dude as in the previous ad (hard to be sure because he's presented at lower-resolution) promising that he's the man for all my relocation needs, WHEREVER I might be relocating to.

Either "THEY" (who's "they"?) listened in on my disagreement with Lauren last night how about brie cheese is better without the waxy stuff on the outside (my position) and concluded that our marriage is perilously close to its demise OR they know I'm considering earning an extra masters degree (in Education to make up for the inadequacy of my MFA) and may have to move to an apartment so I can avoid all face-to-face interaction in pursuit of said degree, OR that I'll need to relocate to another city to attend a graduate program.

Unfortunately for THEM (who's "them"?), my wife is a Realtor, and if anyone is going to kick me out of the house over the finer points of how to serve brie, it's going to be her. And she's a smart business woman, not about to pay a handsome, successful-looking individual (with a LOT of hair), wearing a SUIT (maybe I should work on my wardrobe), and removing his tortoise-shell-pattered glasses to look off into a bright future, when she could use the commission to pay my first month's rent.

I wrap up these Friday musings with a revelation:

In F. Scott Fitzgerald's novel, "The Great Gatsby," all the characters are spied upon the all-seeing "eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg" (from an advertisement on a billboard). Read the novel carefully and you'll discover that his eyesight is sharpened by a pair of tortoise-shell-pattered glasses!!!

Now I'm sure: "THEY" are Dr. T.J. Eckelburg, who's signed a lucrative contract with Facebook. He knows when we've been sleeping, he knows when we're awake. He knows if we've been bad or good, so be healthy, well-educated, and happy in your home for goodness sake!

Your assignment now, is to begin noticing what ads line up on YOUR Facebook page.

Develop some healthy paranoia. Ask yourself -- and others -- in a blog post what Dr. T.J. Eckelburg knows about you and just WHO (who's "who"?) he's selling your information to?

About to leave the house and drive with my eyes glued to my rear-view mirror! Happy Friday.

Malcolm

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Uncertainty

My son Elliott and I arrived at his basketball game this morning to an empty parking lot at a church off Tuskaseegee Road. We entered the family life center, where only a few people were standing around in the chilly gym.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" Elliott said.

The same question entered my mind seconds before. After all, we were 5 minutes late for pre-game warm ups.

"Let's wait and see," I said.

Waiting...uncertainty. These are hard to sit with - in life and in our writing.

You, as writers, might be uncertain about what your essay topic will be. This is normal. Waiting, sitting with uncertainty, is one of the most difficult -- and important -- parts of the writing process.

Soon, some of you will come to me and ask what you should write your paper on. I won't tell you. Instead, I will help you think of ideas, ask questions that might prompt ideas, or help you shape the focus of your ideas. But if I tell you what to write about, I would be robbing you of the experience of waiting.

The answers come.

How do I know?

My son's team and the opposing team showed up and the game happened. We lost, 27-16 (we're talking 8-9 year olds).

But that doesn't matter because we sat and waited and the answer came.

Mc
Sent by dang-blasted BlackBerry

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Where I write...where do you write?

Some thoughts...notice the visual persuasion at work in the final image. Does it convey a message? To whom? What evidence is at work for the message?

Where I write in my daybook...when I'm not writing in it elsewhere

Where I write when...I'm not writing in my daybook

Why your papers must be stapled...(I'll lose lose pages).

Monday, January 17, 2011

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Promise and Perils

What an exciting start to our semester. I loved how everyone had great ideas about what Facebook is (and isn't) and how, even though we didn't have much time on the first day of class, we began to discuss and debate this global-impacting phenomenon.

It'll be cool to learn about argument as we have conversations about any aspects of Facebook that interest you.

Know what else is cool? I'm excited to learn how to work Facebook into the way we learn. I'm grateful to have 50-some-odd interesting pioneers making the trip with me.

I think -- with the private group function -- we'll be able to use FB without risking anyone looking like they're actually doing schoolwork.

Peace out,
Malcolm