When throat ache,sugar is glass

You Write

YOU OPERATE—Erica JongYou operate on the afternoonYou perform open heart surgeryon the ghostsof your suicidal friendsYou divorce your parentsbefore you have timeto be bornYou kick out your wife & childYou tell your girlfriendto go screw herselfThis is the solitude you wantedThe silenceis stitching you upyou write__________________This week in NorCal poetry:•••Monday (4/20), 7:30 PM. Sacramento Poetry Center presents Mary Zeppa and Friends [Julia Connor, Victoria Dalkey, Patrick Grizzell, Kathryn Hohlwein, Susan Kelly-DeWitt, Ann Menebroker, Tom Miner, Stan Zumbiel] at HQ for the Arts, 1719 25th St., Sacramento. No open mic this week. [See last Friday's post for details.]•••Tues. (4/21), 9 PM: The Moore Time for Poetry TV series is on Ch. 17 Comcast, also SureWest and Strategic Frontier. National Champion dance team, the Sac Allstars. Also, vocalists Aaron Devon, Lolita Moore, Brian Randle and Ricky Center. The encore cablecast schedule is on April 23 at 5 AM. Also, visit this website, www.accesssacramento.org, and click on the BIG "Watch Channel 17" button to watch our program! Hosted by Terry Moore & 4 year old daughter Tyra Moore.•••Tues. (4/21), 7 PM: Woodland Public Library presents Danny Romero and Tim Kahl, 250 First St., Woodland. Danny Romero was born and raised in Los Angeles. He has degrees from University of California, Berkeley (BA, 1988) and Temple University (MA, 1993) in Philadelphia, where he taught writing (part-time) for many years. Romero’s poetry and short fiction have been published in literary journals throughout the country, including Colorado Review, Drumvoices Revue, Green Mountains Review, Paterson Literary Review, Pembroke Magazine, and Ploughshares. His work can also be found in such anthologies as West of the West: Imagining California (1989), Pieces of the Heart: New Chicano Fiction (1993), Under the Fifth Sun: Latino Literature from California (2003), Blue Arc West: An Anthology of California Poets (2006), Latinos in Lotusland: An Anthology of Contemporary Southern California Literature (2008) and Pow Wow: Charting the Faultlines in American Experience: Short Fiction from Then to Now (2009). He is the author of the novel, Calle 10 (1996), and two chapbooks of poetry, the latest being Land of a Thousand Barrios (2002). A new poetry collection is forthcoming from Bilingual Review Press. He teaches in the English Department at Sacramento City College.Tim Kahl was born in Chicago and has been published in Prairie Schooner, American Letters & Commentary, Berkeley Poetry Review, Fourteen Hills, George Washington Review, Illuminations, Indiana Review, Limestone, Nimrod, Ninth Letter, Notre Dame Review, South Dakota Quarterly, The Journal, Parthenon West Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, The Texas Review, and many other journals in the U.S. He has translated German poet Rolf Haufs, Austrian avant-gardist, Friederike Mayröcker; Brazilian poets, Lêdo Ivo and Marly de Oliveira; and the poems of the Portuguese language’s only Nobel Laureate, José Saramago. He also appears as Victor Schnickelfritz at the poetry and poetics blog, The Great American Pinup (http://greatamericanpinup.blogspot.com/). His first collection is Possessing Yourself (Word Tech Press, 2009). He is also the editor for Bald Trickster Press, which is dedicated to works of poetry in translation into English. He teaches at Sacramento City College.•••Weds. (4/22), 6-7 PM: Upstairs Poetry Reading celebrates Earth Day at The Upstairs Art Gallery, 420 Main St. (2nd floor), Placerville. It's a poetry open-mike read-around, so bring your own poems or those of a favorite poet to share, or just come to listen. No charge.•••Thurs. (4/23), 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Café (1414 16th St., Sacramento) presents Chris Olander and James Lee Jobe. Chris Olander is a poet and bio/educator who has been writing since 1980 and teaching for California Poets In the Schools since 1984. His poetry has appeared in anthologies, chapbooks, radio and TV performances and readings from Seattle to San Diego—Hawaii to New Mexico. Olander lives in the Sierra foothills. James Lee Jobe is a poet and radio producer, with four chapbooks and many publications, including The Sacramento Anthology: One Hundred Poems. He has also been on the board of directors of the Sacramento Poetry Center. Jobe lives in Davis. Free; open mic.•••Friday (4/24), 7-9 PM: Barnes & Noble (Sunrise Boulevard in Citrus Heights) open mic as part of their "Turn Off" week. Margaret Bell writes: I would like to cast the net wide and get a lot of poets from a 50-mile radius to come and share their poems. They could use the event as an opportunity, not only to read their poems, but to advertise their own poetry activities and open mic opportunities. I just received confirmation that a truly wonderful guitarist will play some background. He is going to play softly behind one of the poems I intend to read and asked me to send him a copy of the poem so he can prepare for it. He can play behind one of your poems if you want him to do so. Just send me a copy of the poem. I will forward it to him, with your request that he play.•••Saturday (4/25), 7:30 PM: 17th Annual Listening to the Wild at the Center for the Arts in Grass Valley. Poetry, prose, film and music featuring local and regional artists. Tickets are available at Center for the Arts. The theme this year is Harmony/Disharmony.•••Sunday (4/26), 11 AM-12:45 PM: El Camino Poets meet on the fourth Sunday at the Hart Senior Center, 27th and J Sts., Sacramento. Please bring 8 copies of your poem to be critiqued. There will be no El Camino Poets in May.__________________THE TEACHER—Erica JongThe teacher stands before the class.She's talking of Chaucer.But the students aren't hungry for Chaucer.They want to devour her.They are eating her knees, her toes, her breasts, her eyes& spitting outher words.What do they want with words?They want a real lesson!She is naked before them.Psalms are written on her thighs.When she walks, sonnets divideinto octaves & sestets.Couplets fall into placewhen her fingers nervously toywith the chalk.But the words don't clothe her.No amount of poetry can save her now.There's no volume big enough to hide in.No unabridged Webster, no OED.The students aren't dumb.They want a lesson.Once they might have taken lifeby the scruff of its neckin a neat couplet.But nowthey need blood.They have left Chaucer alone& have eaten the teacher._________________BOOKS—Erica JongThe universe (which others call the library)...—Jorge Luis BorgesBooks which are stitched up the center with coarse white threadBooks on the beach with sunglass-colored pagesBooks about food with pictures of weeping grapefruitsBooks about baking bread with browned cornersBooks about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pagesBooks of erotic engravings with pages that stickBooks about inns whose stars have sputtered outBooks of illuminations surrounded by darknessBooks with blank pages & printed marginsBooks with fanatical footnotes in no-point typeBooks with book liceBooks with rice-paper pastingsBooks with book fungus blooming over their pagesBooks with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindingsBooks by men in love with the letter OBooks which smell of earth whose pages turn_________________THE BOOK—Erica JongI float down the spiral stairsof the old apartment.At the dining room table sitmy six ex-analysts, two brokers,& five professors,considering my book.They dip the pages of the manuscript in water,to see if it will last.From where I watch, the sheets look blank.They discuss my sexual hang-ups.Why do I write about womenwhen, after all, they're men?They enumerate my debts, losses,& the lies I've told; the red lightsI have passed, the men I've kissed.They examine a lock of my hair for bleach.Finally, muttering, they rise & yawn in chorus.They decide to repossess my typewriter, my legs,my Phi Beta Kappa key, one breast,any children I may have, & my espresso machine.My book, of course, is through.Already the pages have dissolved like toilet paper.I wake up with the bedstill on the wrong side of the dream.My legs are scattered through the streetslike pick-up sticks.Crawling on stumps, crawlingin the spittle & dog shit,I bitterly accuse the City& bitterly accuse myself.How could I not have knownthat the book was on the wrong sideof the dream?How could Ihave walked into it?_________________Today's LittleNip: A READING—Erica JongThe old poetwith his face full of lines,with iambs jumping in his hair like fleas,with all the revisions of his bodyunsaying him,walks to the podium.He is about to tell ushow he came to this._________________—Medusa SnakeWatch: What's New from Rattlesnake Press:Rattlesnake Review: The latest Snake (RR21) is now available (free) at The Book Collector, or send me four bux and I'll mail you one. Next deadline is May 15 for RR22: send 3-5 poems, smallish art pieces and/or photos (no bio, no cover letter, no simultaneous submissions or previously-published poems) to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. E-mail attachments are preferred, but be sure to include all contact info, including snail address. Meanwhile, the snakes of Medusa are always hungry; let us know if your submission is for the Review or for Medusa, or for either one, and please—only one submission per issue.Also available (free): littlesnake broadside #46: Snake Secrets: Getting Your Poetry Published in Rattlesnake Press (and lots of other places, besides!): A compendium of ideas for brushing up on your submissions process so as to make editors everywhere more happy, thereby increasing the likelihood of getting your poetry published. Pick up a copy at The Book Collector or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!NEW FOR APRIL: A SpiralChap of poetry and photos from Laverne Frith (Celebrations: Images and Texts); a (free!) littlesnake broadside from Taylor Graham (Edge of Wildwood); and Musings3: An English Affair, a new blank journal of photos and writing prompts from Katy Brown. Now available from the authors, or The Book Collector, or (soon) rattlesnakepress.com/.April 15 was the deadline for the second issue of WTF, the free quarterly journal from Poetry Unplugged at Luna's Cafe that is edited by frank andrick. Submission guidelines are the same as for the Snake, but send your poems, photos, smallish art or prose pieces (500 words or less) to fandrickfabpub@hotmail.com (attachments preferred) or, if you’re snailing, to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. And be forewarned: this publication is for adults only, so you must be over 18 years of age to submit. Copies of the first issue are at The Book Collector, or send me two bux and I'll mail you one. Next deadline, for issue #3, is July 15.COMING IN MAY: Join us Weds., May 13 for a new rattlechap, Sinfonietta, from Tom Goff; Vol. 5 of Conversations, the Rattlesnake Interview Series by B.L. Kennedy; and the inauguration of a new series, Rattlesnake LittleBooks, with Shorts: Quatrains and Epigrams by Iven Lourie. That’s at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, 7:30 PM. Free!Medusa's Weekly Menu:(Contributors are welcome to cook up something for any and all of these!)Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendarTuesday: Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOWs; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.Wednesday (sometimes, or any other day!): HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing: favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy. Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in future issues of Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ravenous poetic souls.And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far and in-between! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!_________________Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events, to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.

Peashooting.

The rise of fake funerals in South Korea

Long story short: "Welcome to the new Korean craze of 'well-dying.' In a country infatuated with 'well-being' — living and eating healthily, even to the point where tobacco-makers offer vitamin-enriched 'well-being cigarettes' — training companies are now offering courses on dying a good death."A July 22, 2008 Financial Times story by Anna Fifield has much more, and follows.The photos above and below accompanied the story, part of a slideshow here.•••••••••••••••••••When death is a reminder to liveStanding in front of a flower-covered altar in a dimly lit room, Baek Kyung-ah is reading out her will at her own funeral."I can't believe today is my last day," she chokes through sobs, her voice barely audible above the solemn music."To my husband, knowing that this will be my last time seeing you, I would like to apologise for thinking only about myself and for not being a caring wife. To my parents, just thinking about you makes my eyes teary. I love you," she cries, before heading off to lie down in a coffin and be "buried".Welcome to the new Korean craze of "well-dying". In a country infatuated with "well-being" — living and eating healthily, even to the point where tobacco-makers offer vitamin-enriched "well-being cigarettes" — training companies are now offering courses on dying a good death."Korea has ranked number one in many bad things such as suicide and divorce and cancer rates, so I wanted to run a programme for people to experience death," says Ko Min-su, a 40-year-old former insurance agent who founded Korea Life Consulting, which offers fake funerals as a way to make people value life.Korean corporations - from Samsung Electronics and Hyundai Motor to Kyobo Life Insurance and Mirae Asset Management - send their employees on Mr Ko's courses regularly, partly to encourage them to question their priorities in life and partly as a suicide prevention measure.The course is now such an integral part of training at Samsung and Kyobo that they have even built their own fake funeral centres. International companies including ING and Allianz have also sent their staff on the courses.Suicide is a serious problem in South Korea, which has the highest rate of self-inflicted deaths in the developed world, with 24.7 cases per 100,000 people, according to the latest report from the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development. The rate has doubled in the last five years.Experts blame the sharp increase on the sudden changes in society resulting from South Korea's rapid industrialisation, which has led to cut-throat competitiveness and financial stress. "We have seen a lot of social change over the last 30 or 40 years and people are having a hard time keeping up with capitalist values," says Hong Kang-ui, president of the Korean Association for Suicide Prevention. "At the same time, social support networks have weakened."But quality of life is also an issue, with employees working extraordinarily long hours. Mr Ko's course aims to make participants re-evaluate their priorities. About 50,000 people have taken part since he launched it in 2004, a move prompted by the premature deaths of his two older brothers in air and car crashes.Lee Joo-heung, a 45-year-old company manager in a yellow Hawaiian shirt, attended a recent course because he wanted to reflect on his past and prepare for his death. "I have never thought about not being there for my family, and I realised that if I died all of a sudden my wife and children would be left alone," he said.Mr Ko, a smooth talker with a touch of the television evangelist about him, begins the course with a motivational presentation that includes a "life calculator" — counting the time until one's death down to the millisecond.Then participants are led to a dark room where they are told to sit at candlelit desks and write their wills, prompted by some sample questions. If you died today, what would you tell your family? What would you say about your job and your life?As they start to write, the room becomes filled with sniffing, women in particular struggling to hold back their tears.Will completed, they collect their funeral portraits — participants are asked to pose on the way in - and enter the "death experience room", a large, dark space containing a series of open coffins and decorated with posters of famous bygones such as Ronald Reagan, Diana, Princess of Wales, and Lee Byung-chull, Samsung's founder.In front of an altar covered with flowers and his funeral portrait, Mr Ko instructs his trainees to choose a coffin, put on a traditional hemp death robe and then read out their wills one-by-one.Next, it is time to be buried. Participants lie down in their coffins, while a man wearing the outfit of a traditional Korean death messenger places a flower on each person's chest. Funeral attendants place lids on the coffins, banging each corner several times with a mallet. Dirt is thrown down on the lid, as loud as stones on a tile roof. The attendants leave the hall for five minutes — but it seemed like 30 minutes to those taking part. Once the lids are lifted, Mr Ko asks the trainees how they felt. "When they were nailing the coffin and sprinkling the dirt, it felt like I was really dead," Ms Baek says. "I thought death was far away but now that I have experienced it, I feel like I have to live a better life."Yoon Soo-yung, a manager at the Cheonnam Educational Training Institute, who was considering sending her staff on the course, said the experience was terrifying. "I felt like I was suffocating. I cried a lot inside my coffin," she told the FT. "I regretted so many things that I had done in my life and mistakes that I had made."Some medical experts are less convinced of the value of such programmes as a suicide prevention measure. "I think treating the fundamental causes like depression and impulsive behaviour is more important and should come before such programmes," says Chung Hong-jin, professor of neuropsychiatry at the Samsung Medical Centre in Seoul. Mr Ko, however, says those who have completed his course become more considerate, and attach greater value to their lives. "Life is a gift from your parents, but the way you live depends on the choices that you make," he says. "People realise the beauty of life by experiencing death."

Deception blog round-up of recent research

Ive neglected all the crimepsych blogs over the last few months (pressure of work and a doctorate to finish) but to make up for it, at least partially, Ive published a round-up of all the interesting deception-related research from the last few months over on the Deception Blog. Its in six parts (theres a LOT of it) and can be found via the following links: Part 1: Discussion of who can catch a liar and some research on signs of lying. Part 2: New technologies and deception detection, particularly recent advances in the debate over fMRI but also some news about ERP-related deception detection. Part 3: Its magic! Reporting on the little flurry of interest in understanding how magicians deceive us, with some lessons for how practiced liars might achieve the same effect. Part 4: When people lie in specific situations, from 911 calls to deception by the police. Part 5: Polygraphy, and some recent research on the psychophisiology of lying. Part 6: Kids lies, online lies and my deception book of the year. Blogging is likely to continue to be sporadic on both this and the other crimepsych blogs over the next few months as I try and finish the doctorate, but if all goes to plan I hope to be back to better blogging by the summer of this year. Wishing you all the best for a happy, safe and successful year in 2009!

Yea, Verily: What I Have Learned Living in England These Past Four Months

The Ginga one has asked me, her loving, doctorate-holding, and jobless husband, to contribute again and write a guest blog. She is currently on some sort of leadership conference thing today, and left the house bemoaning that she failed to look professional, let alone of leadership material. I sent her out of the house with a slap on her bum, and kiss on her cheek, and orders to bring me some money too. I am not a chauvanist, but I can play that part when necessary. And she looked very, very professional to boot. So, now I have been pondering about what I have taken in as a result of my new-found status as ex-pat, and there are quite a few things, both good and bad, both poignant and misery- inspiring, and then there are others which are just, frankly, pointless.1) So, I was told that people in the North were friendlier than people in the South, something which I was denying for some time. I would drop off my son at school, and no one would talk to me after the first week he attended. That first week was great, with lots of questions about why we moved, where we came from, and what we were planning to do. Then suddenly, it all went silent. I would smile and say hello, and about 25% of the time, I may get a friendly response. Most of the time, I got a look of panic, as the person would say hello back and speed away. A fellow ex-pat who lives near here told me it was because the English are quite tribal, and I am starting to see what that means. I mean, they are not as bad as the Germans, whom you can know for nearly a year, and if you call them friend, you will get an explanation about how you are not, since you and the other person do not really know one another. The other difference is, of course, to an English person, you can mention the War and they didn’t invade Poland (boom! boom! good ol’ Basil Brush and Basil Fawlty); however, even in the friendlier North, there is a bit of some strange stand-offishness at first. They do not like making eye contact with a stranger and saying, “good morning” in an overt way. I didn’t either, until I moved here and was the proverbial white elephant, accent wise. Slowly and surely, however, it changes. It started with old ladies suddenly talking to me as I jogged with my son. I jog with my baby boy in a jogging stroller, something quite common in the U.S, but here it still gets looks. We would be stopped at a light, waiting to cross the street, and out of nowhere I would get “well, that will keep you fit” or “soon he will be pushing you in one of those.” Then in a grocery store, an old woman told me all about her nephew, who calls his mother all the time, and although she, herself, never had any children, her glorious nieces and nephews always made sure to inquire after her. Now at my son’s school, people greet me, ask about either of my boys, and make jokes. It would seem I have been partially adopted into the tribe. I say partially only because I created an air of awkwardness when I suggested to one that we all get together some time for our kids to play. I have since learned that such suggestions are typically only allowed among mums; any dad coming in and trying to get some of that action summarily receives a bit of the cold shoulder. I can understand it, however. I think if my wife were hanging out at odd hours during the day with a host of dads, all of course for the purposes of allowing the respective children to play, I would be a little anxious. I admit to you all here now that I can be a tad jealous if the need arises.2) Next thing: Tesco Club Points are great! It took me almost three months to get my Tesco Club Card, but it was so worth it. You get a point for every pound you spend, and then they send you a check, in points of course. I realize that it all somewhat dull, and being paid in points that you can only redeem at Tesco is a bit like working for Pullman and earning Pullman dollars, but there is something of an accountant in me for these kinds of games. You can even earn points for returning your plastic grocery sacks! So far, I have over 1500 Tesco points, so I am going to receive, any day now, a check worth £15.00 – that’s two bottles of really nice plonk, or one really really nice bottle, and since there was a report here recently that said a wine with a more expensive price tag makes us believe the wine tastes better (and the tests prove that when we taste the wine, we also still believe it), it is almost like getting a really really nice bottle of wine, drinking it, tasting its pecuniary value, but yet it costs nothing. Alright, I realize it cost me something, but I am getting the wine simply for shopping at Tesco. Isn’t that great? I can see by your eyes, you are silently judging me. Please remember I am a teacher who isn’t teaching right now, so I am a bit like a border collie who cannot go and herd sheep; I must make up my own games, and there is just so much “In the Night Garden” I can take – even though it is narrated by Derek Jacoby, who also just recently starred as The Master in Doctor Who and was a bad guy from the Magisterium in The Golden Compass. 3)English politicians are their own caricatures. There is no wonder why a show called “Dead Ringers” which featured puppets would be such a huge success. For one, they simply made the puppets look exactly like the politicians, and that was funny enough. They would add certain elements, for example the John Major puppet was colored grey, because his was a grey personality. All in all, the real humor was simply that the toys looked just like the original, and the original looked like something from Punch in the first place. For example, Tony Blair really is creepy looking! I remember when he was first running his campaign, and the Tories created attacks adverts that simply had a pair of evil-looking Blair-ish eyes, with the phrase, “New Labour, New Danger.” But look at the guy. He looks slightly insane! Look at Gordon Brown – he looks like a cranky bear. Look at David Cameron. He just scares me, even more now that he talks about being an “Inner Smiths Fan.” They are all an editorial cartoonist’s nightmare, because what can you do with them. You can make them slightly more grotesque, but it is as if they were designed, by their genetic code, to be in the public spotlight for our amusement. I do realize that “W” looks elfish, Gore looks like a sleeping giant, and Newt Gingritch does resemble a bigger version of one of the Lollypop Kids from Wizard of Oz, but you still have to work for it.4)McVities’ milk chocolate and dark chocolate (called simply plain here) are simply the best things I have ever eaten … after Galaxy chocolate bars and Magnum Icecream bars (which are fantastic vanilla icecream on a stick, covered with Galaxy chocolate). For real food, I could eat curries every day. I am not partial to fish and chips, however, so there is still hope for my waistline.5)For some reason, I cannot find French Roast coffee here. Not even from Starbucks (and yes, they are everywhere too). I can find Italian Roast, but not French. I once found “French Style”, but that wasn’t it; in fact, I am unsure what particularly was French in the style of the coffee, since no matter how strong I brewed the coffee, it tasted weak, until I went too far and made sludge. I had to return to the US for my mother’s funeral last month, so I stocked up on the good stuff, and then some heavenly friends sent me 2 (count ‘em 2!) pounds of my absolute favorite coffee in the world: Peet’s! So I am set for a bit. But one day, and that day will quickly come, I will have to go back and begin my search in vain again. I do not measure my life out in coffee spoons (that’s not what I said at all), but I do mark events by good coffee.6)There is a rising wave of Puritanism here lately. Recently a teacher was dismissed for having been in a rather sexy ad for construction clothing. Now, granted, there was simulated sex suggested (all right, people were a-bumpin’ and a-grindin’, makin’ the beast with two backs), but still I had thought the moral views were more open here. I mean the first time I saw a topless woman was on Monty Python (and that was on PBS!), so it surprised me to hear of such concern. It also seems that those who profess to believe in Intelligent Design followed me out to the UK, because that, too, is getting discussion. It was a shock enough having my son climb into bed with us one morning and ask “Can we talk about the baby Jesus”, but it was close to Christmas, and he was in the school Nativity play (where he played Santa – go figure), but this wave of I.D. proponents in the UK makes me even more nervous than it did in the US. Sure, we can all play Natural Philosophers and admire the eye, and wonder how it could have been made by chance, but advocating teaching I.D. in the science classrooms is simply preposterous and far beneathe this highly intelligent, articulate, and amazingly literate culture. So stop it. And that’s all I am gonna say about that, 7)I am simply amazed that anyone in the US could posit that the National Health System is a bad idea! Even my brother argued with me that socialized medicine would mean no one gets good care at all (and he knows that most Americans are without health insurance, and therefore excluded from good health care, despite the US’s boasts of having THE BEST). Stupid arguments with siblings aside, I have been singularly impressed, not only with the care, but with the fact that I was able to get care so soon. My two sons and I got our NHS numbers almost as soon as we landed; my sons get immunized on a regular basis, I get my cholesterol medication, and we all get regular check ups. Go see Sicko and you will get a sense of how generous the system is. Sure, it has its problems, but remembering that Cook County Hospital in Chicago closed simply because it couldn’t afford to stay open any longer treating the uninsured (by its charter) and many such hospitals have done likewise, and you will know that something very wrong has happened with the American healthcare system.8)British Telecom, or BT, sucks the big one! They are kind of like AT&T, only without any sense of customer relations, customer service, or anything that would resemble a company that has real business sense. I have lived here now for four months, and they still had my name wrong on the bill. I would stay on the phone, sometimes in a phone booth (yes, they still have them here) for hours trying to get through, only to get cut off at the last minute. When I did get through, I was told my name could not be corrected without canceling the whole account and opening a new one (which would cost £45.00, or $90.00). Some how then, trying to get things fixed, I succeeded only in getting a second account opened; so for four months I have been getting two phone bills: one for my actual phone number and one for another line, which was never used. Each month, I would call, be put on hold, and then be told everything was sorted only to receive two phone bills the next month. Our broadband is also with BT (don’t ask), and suddenly I was getting two bills for that. Take the worst experience you have ever had, times it by ten carried to that power, and you will have BT. I have read that they are actively trying to gain back customers who have left in recent years, but I have no idea how that plan has been put into place. Advice if you are moving here: go with Orange. They are a mobile phone company (cell to you yanks), so you don’t need to pay for line rental from BT, and you can get your internet service through them too. Avoid Virgin as well. The postoffice apparently offers phone service too, but I only just learned about that.9)I am going out on a line here, but I think cars in Britain are better built than they are in the US (please forgive me Detroit and Lansing; hey wait, what am I saying; we drove Toyotas!). We have a Vauxhall Omega 2.5 litre, 6 cylinder monster earth f***er (my wife’s brother and sister in law generously gave it to us); Vauxhall is GM, and this particular car is a combination Chevy of some sort and the Cadillac Caterra (the Caddy that zigs). It is quite old, but it keeps on going. Sure, it drinks petrol like water (and it costs me well over $100 to fill the sommabitch), but I am well pleased with its reliability. I don’t think anyone in my family ever owned a GM car that didn’t some how die early because of bad design. Like all English-made cars, it leaks oil, but I have come to expect that.10)The Peak district is by far one of the most beautiful places on earth. I would add a photo here if I knew how, but google it and you will see. Amazing, craggy hills and breath-taking valleys. I just love the place. My only complaint is that with all the rain, I have not had a chance to drive there and run up the Big Peak.Well, there you have it. Thank you for reading the ramblings of an undignified house husband (yes, I do play Beatles songs for my boy, just like that other, slightly more famous house husband did for his boy Sean). And now back to your regularly scheduled program.