Pursuing praxis

Turns out it’s convenient to walk between the Dept. of Justice and the IRS buildings on my way to the natural history museum. Apart from being very large (and reminding me of the giant government buildings surrounding Tiananmen Square), these buildings aren’t hugely remarkable, for their neoclassicism. I mean they’re fancy and tall and a full city block in size, with lots of columns and relief sculptures and whatnot.

What suprised me was the use and non-use of signs and words between the two. The DoJ has its name spelled out in giant letters on a smooth strip of stones running the length of the building on at least two sides, near the top floors. Every side of the building has some big sign or engraving proclaiming it’s the DoJ, often flanked by "United States of America", or "Office of the Attorney General", and American flags are in no short supply. On all sides there are quotes pertaining to justice carved into the side of the building, sometimes near a statue, things like (and I’m botching them here, from memory) "Render to each man what he earns", "Absent the rule of law, tyranny rules", etc. They are the DoJ, they’re proud of it (at least when the building was built), and they want everyone to know it.

Compare it with it’s near-sibling building, the IRS. It too has a line of smooth stones near the top which says … nothing. There are no quotes, no statues, not even a "United States of America" sign anywhere on the four sides of the building. Most doors are totally unmarked. No flags fly, as I recall. Only the two main entrances - on a building that extends over a city block - have signs reading "Internal Revenue Service," with 18"x18" panels at knee-height, on either side of the door. And that is it. Not even "United States Internal Revenue Service."

Somehow it reminds me of any of countless movies where the mobster says, "Bring the money - unmarked bills only. We don’t want nobody tracing the dough. Got it?"  

But it also kind of reminds me of a cartoon elephant trying to hind behind a lightpole in a crowded square.  

I heard a story recently which underscored the need for awareness of cultural context. It really is secondhand - I heard it from the guy myself. It goes like this:

He ships out for a west African university to help them set up a computer network at their school. His excess baggage on the plane consists of some 30 computers. He arrives at his destination, and within two weeks he has the whole thing set up. Huzzah.

Of course, a network with no one who actually knows how to administer and maintain it is useless, so he decides that an internship program would be perfect for training students to use the computers, administer the network, boost usage, and ensure long-term viability. So at a faculty meeting he pitches his idea to the chair, and concludes by saying "So I think an internship program would be perfect. 12 interns should be just right. Six men and six women."

The chair nods slowly, and drawls out a "Yes," which, as the fellow said, is African for "no." Everyone else in the room is silent, and remains silent. Seconds tick by. Eventually someone lets out a giggle. Soon everyone is laughing uproariously, the chair included. The fellow has no idea what’s going on. He thought it was a good idea.

At least in that west African country, students who want to learn a new skill are first "attached" to an instructor. If they’re interested enough and good enough, they will then become "apprenticed" to the instructor, to eventually become independent with their skillset.

The only "intern" they had ever heard of was Monica Lewinsky. And he wanted twelve!

—-

I also happened to watch the movie Secondhand Lions last night, which centers a lot on secondhand stories and trust, although it does also have a secondhand (used) lion in it. Not a bad movie, except for some overly mushy parts towards the end. It’s kind of an oddball movie, maybe a little discombobulated as far as style goes, but if you find it on TV and have nothing else to do, I recommend it.

Sigh. Kenyans are ecstatic that Obama got the nomination. Why? Because he’s so qualified? Because he’s a great speaker? Because they agree with his positions and policies? Because they think he will be good for our country, and advance noble ideals and practical solutions? Because he’s (more) photogenic?

No.

Because he is Kenyan. Obviously.

From the Kenya Times:

"We as a family are thrilled to be directly related to a man who has not only made a major achievement, but has also made history."– Said Obama, Barack Obama’s Uncle

"It’s unbelievable! This shows that Kenya is a great place; a great country. God has blessed this country. Senator Obama is already the next U.S. President." — Bishop Beneah Salalah of the Anglican Church of Kenya  [can you believe that?!]

"We know he will go ahead and be elected President of the United States. The American citizens have shown that they don’t see race or tribe in someone, but his or her leadership qualities. Africans should learn from this."– Kakamega Mayor Joe Serenge

"We are strongly behind him and we urge Americans to go ahead and elect him their President."– Kisumu Mayor Sam Okello

"Kenyan" is the only information most Kenyans need. It’s all they needed when I was there a year ago, and it’s all they care about now. There is no discussion of Obama’s political positions, his background, his qualifications, his experience. Only that he is Kenyan, and was a Senator for just four years in Illinois, and now he is nominated for president.

No matter that only his dad was from Kenya; his mother is rarely if ever mentioned. (It remains bizarre to me that mixed race people are judged to belong to the darker race, whichever it is, by all races). No matter that several tribes spent the better part of January trying to kill each other, resulting in about a thousand completely unnecessary deaths (the Prime Minister’s views notwithstanding). No matter that no tribe is more "Kenyan" than any other. No matter that if Obama was actually from Kogelo village and actually born in Kenya, the odds of him getting a good education and big opportunities would have been drastically reduced, not to mention being barred from running for president because he wasn’t born in the US. Yes, that sure makes Kenya great …

It’s total tribalism - whether you are blessed for it or cursed for it - which stems from determinism. In family-based tribalism, it reduces to genetic determinism. Pro-Kenyan-Obamaism, while cheerful to say the least, comes from the same premises that motivates people to burn each other alive. Lacking a machete doesn’t change the poor logic of "my family," "my tribe," "my color," "my town," "my country." You’re born into all of those, at least two of those you can never change. And if you’re very poor like most Kenyans, it can be hard to change your town or your country as well. So basically they have no choice as to whether they’re somehow linked to someone who turns out to be from one of their many groups. Ergo the person is brilliant and they are better people for being involuntarily associated with him. Wha…?

I became friends with the cook at the guesthouse I stayed at. We had many interesting and rewarding conversations, even on religion and politics, which for safety’s sake I had vowed not to discuss at all while abroad. On matters of business and politics, people were a lot more receptive than I had expected. Njenga and I talked about Obama several times. They knew more about him than I did, and were totally stoked about him back in spring 2007! I barely recognized his name.

Njenga asked if I supported Obama. I said no, because I didn’t know anything about him, and my views on all the candidates were preliminary at the very best, since it was early in the race and I didn’t have time to follow US politicking. I asked why he supported Obama. "Because he is from Kenya!" Njenga said, lighting up like a Christmas tree. "Obama is black - and there has never been a black President of the United States before. It would be good, very good. There is still so much racism."

I said, "Njenga, don’t you see, that is what it means to be racist - to prefer someone because of their race, or their country, or whatever. Racism isn’t just white people being unfair to black people. Racism is about being unfair to anyone because of their race, whatever their race. If you are against racism, don’t judge Obama based on his race. Judge him on the things he can control - his thoughts, his values, his actions, the kind of character he has, the kinds of policies he supports."

That stopped Njenga in his (mental) tracks. He considered it briefly, seriously, and then a smile spread across his face. "You are right. What you say is right. You are an unusual person," he said, addressing me by my last name, as was his custom. "What you say is very unusual. There aren’t many people like you," he instructed me. It was neither praise nor criticism, more like an observation, though he was often hugely entertained by my unusualness, all while being deeply interested in the ideas discussed.

This exchange probably sounds like a parody, the way I relate it. But that’s the style of speaking English in Nairobi - very much out of my third grade teacher’s book. I think it must be some combination of English as a second (or third) language, the tradition or dialect, and the state of political education even among the educated. I learned it by trial and error; speaking very simply, respectfully, cheerfully and honestly (sometimes brutally so) kept people happy and got me what I wanted. So it was wierd being hailed as an intellectual giant (staying in a roach-infested guesthouse for $10 a night), when I only said what I thought was simple and obvious, as simply as I could.

(It is exhausting speaking like that though.)

It’s lovely that Obama can be billed as the first post-racial candidate. But that’s true only among a certain demographic. It’s not true for all Americans, to say nothing of all nations. Many people still care very much about race, as an extension of a tribalistic outlook on life, selectively ignoring the contradictions that crop up. I wonder how many of Njenga’s people (the Kikuyu) are cheering for Obama (a Luo) this week. Cuz they were hacking each other to bits and burning each other alive six short months ago.

Related Posts:
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Thompson, Mouch, Chalmers et al., the later years

The trailer for Wanted, Angelina Jolie’s next movie, is spiffy. I’m totally going to see it, probably in LA since I’ll be there. I’m stoked. It’s tempting to start strategizing new tattoos, but I’ll hold off (for now).

The main competitor for Starbucks here in Chicago, it seems. Apart from having a cervid motif, I dig their slogan: "Life is short. Stay awake for it."

Q: What’s the difference between a chicken and an egg?

A: An egg needs certain favorable conditions to turn into a chicken. An egg can be cracked, squashed, scrambled, drained, rotted; the chick starved, stunted, left out in the cold, predated upon, cannibalized. Killing a chicken is a much more effortful, violent affair, because it has the will and the ability to survive and reproduce on its own. You have to be willing to shoot it, wring its neck, chop off its head, or something, in order to kill a chicken. Many people aren’t up to the task, so the chicken gets to live. And lay eggs. And make more chickens. And then killing just one chicken gets you no where.

Dammitall, am I going to have to vote for McCain?

Sigh.

Obama and his wife scare the piss out of me.  

Check out these amazing photographs, from the Smithsonian Institutions’ Nature’s Best.

Index of 2007 winners
Index of 2006 winners
Flash of 2005 winners
Flash of 2004 winners

Among the 2007 winners, my favorites are the zebra, bison, mandarin duck, Fly Geyser, goliath grouper, and snowy egrets.

Among the 2006 winners (there are a lot more), I like the giraffe on a purple sunset, osprey, giant kelp, orchid cactus, pink cyclamen, Alaskan brown bear, horseshoe crabs, snow and ice at sunset, lightning strike, and ladybug.

And the idiot award goes to the photographer of this alligator.

I saw a great pic of a friend impersonating Superman, complete with logoed t-shirt under an Oxford shirt and business vest and trousers.

And it got me to thinking - no one wears a good business vest anymore. If I talked about vests with you recently, I most certainly don’t include tan leather or leather-like vests from the ’70s in this category.

Then it occured to me that perhaps I just hang in the wrong crowds. I mean, my friend is essentially a businessman - at least, he’s not an academic. And in my various fields of academia, it seems REI sets the fashion bar for grad students, and jeans are a common occurence even among faculty in my department. The only time I see colleagues dressed smartly is when they’re giving a talk and looking for a job. I heard that Joe Gregory, a Great Paleontologist who recently passed away, was among the last who insisted on wearing a tie at work. And I think most of my G.G. Simpson books show him in a suit. People used to dress up more, even in paleontology, even at Berkeley.

So, if I ever have time to spare, or am hard up for change, or just need a change of pace on a post-tenure sabbatical, maybe I’ll opine in a book. I even thought of a cool title: Class Outside the Classroom: Practical, Professional Attire for the 21st Century Academic.  

So, I finally made it to the SF Zoo this weekend. My motivation was entirely bovidly, of course. They have greater kudu, which I had great trouble seeing well in the field, and Derby’s elands, which nowadays reside in countries I don’t care to visit (Sudan, DRC, and other central and west African gems).

This is a Derby’s eland bull. A.k.a. a giant eland, mainly because of its horns, which are a more stretched-out twist compared to common elands. Some authors say Derbies can be heavier than common eland, but it’s a really close call. This bull is pretty lightly built, although his horns are very nice. Derbies also tend to be a richer red-brown throughout life, and retain more stripes on the body (in male common elands, the stripes fade with maturity and age). The white spots low on the cheek are also key distinguishers of Derbies, and a dewlap that goes from chin to shoulder, but not down between the front legs. This guy doesn’t have much in the way of bangs; male elands often get that, and then they rub their bangs in the mud, in urine and feces and anything else that’s stinky. Either it attracts the ladies or repells competitors. Sometimes the males get grass or bushes wrapped around their horns, and end up with a bovid ‘fro.

There were also greater kudus, including one mellow bull and a few cows. The cows were rather variable in appearance, and I suspected some variation in age, although none was overtly juvenile. One was just fuzzier, had weaker stripes, and a bit of a pot belly. They do have very pretty eyes though.

In other bovid action, there were a few blackbuck ewes and one ram, though he looked a bit youngish, not be a very blackish buck. Blackbucks are from India. They’re they only living member of their genus (Antilope) and are the namesake of the whole subfamily Antilopinae. They’re rather bizarrely squat, for a gazelle (all their nearest African relatives are much narrower side to side), and don’t come up much higher than your hip. I don’t know as much about them, since I’m up to my eyeballs trying to get a handle on some 75 African bovids. There are a lot of them ranched in Texas though.

Next up, the scimitar-horned oryx. Normally I’d say these are desert animals, but they are apparently flexible enough to subsist at the zoo, which is about a stone’s throw from the Pacific Ocean. Males and females are virtually indistinguishable (unless you aren’t shy about peering for genitals, like I do). They’re not very tall, but they’re not midgets either. What can I say, the giraffe was in my way.

Oryxes are in the tribe Hippotragini, which in Greek means horse-goats, or something very close. Here you can see their horsey-ness: long tails, fairly even back, bit of a mane, and then kind of a goat-ish head with horns. They are my second-favorite tribe to tragelaphines.

The only other bovid I found was the yellow-backed duiker (rhymes with biker). Duikers are the most numerous African tribe, and most all are forest-dwellers. Since I haven’t been to the very forested parts of Africa, I’ve only seen the versatile common/bush/gray duiker. The yellow-backed duiker is among the largest, up to 80kg. Most are in the 10-20kg range. Proportionately, duikers are the brainiest bovids. They’re also the only ones that are habitually omnivorous; some actually hunt and eat birds! The smallest ones look kind of rabbity or rodenty, but that’s true of most ruminants under 20kg. The bigger duikers look a bit like pigs to me - arched backs, a wide wet nose, and a proclivity to eat some strange stuff.

Finally, to round out the ruminant branch of the mammalian family tree at the SF Zoo, we have the muntjac. It’s in the deer family (Cervidae), hence the antlers on its head. But, it’s quite small - probably not much taller than my knee - and it has very long, furry pedicles, from which the antlers grow annually.

This guy was on patrol most of the time, stalking the perimeter or stalking the does while they napped or got up to pee. Most ruminants males are obsessed with females’ urine; it’s how they tell if the female is in estrus or not, and so whether they get to have sex or not. It’s a pretty simple calculus, just not very appetizing to our tastes.

And I didn’t even get outside artiodactyla! Next up, the more mundane orders of carnivorans, primates and rodents, plus one very cool rhino.  

These days, not too many people know what a horse nut I used to be. I dabbled in just about anything that didn’t require a carraige. My most serious interests were dressage, jumping, combined training, and horse judging. I tried to explain dressage to someone unfamiliar with it, and rather than struggle on verbally with the aid of locomotory gestures. (Heaven help you if you have to act out ‘dressage’ for charades). What I should have done was look it up on YouTube. Which is what I did last night, after about a 10 year hiatus from all things dressage.

So what is it? It’s kind of like figure skating for horses, minus the ice and skates and froofy costumes. If you’re curious, here are probably two of the best horse and rider combos in the world today.

The gray horse: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zKQgTiqhPbw
The dark horse: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPJGEzI3aIc

These clips are from the World Equestrian Games 2006, in the freestyle. Freestyle means they get to compose their own pattern to execute specified moves, and they get to ride to music also of their choosing. I actually like the gray horse better overall, and the commentators occasionally lapsed into silence just to watch, she was that spectacular. But the dark horse was technically and artistically perfect, pretty much.

Maybe it’s relevant to mention the gray horse is female. I’ve been asked if all the best horses are male. Maybe more male than female, but this horse rocks my world.

To give you an idea of scoring: it’s out of 100 points, judged by upwards of 5 judges at this level. Scoring in the 50’s is like C performance (decent but in need of improvement), 60s are solid B-B+ performances to be proud of, 70’s are A+ performances to celebrate. The dark horse, w/ Dutch rider Anky Van Grunsven won by a 5 point margin with 86 points. God couldn’t perform that well, even if he had four legs and a beautiful woman on his back.

Terminology:
Piaffe: trot in place, pick the feet up high
Passage (rhymes with massage): prance slowly forward in a trot, hesitating mid-stride
Canter pirouette: canter in a circle, keeping the hind legs as close to the same spot as possible
Half-pass: trot or canter diagonally across the arena while keeping the horse pointed forward and bent in the direction of travel.