Thoughts from a Newly Minted Teacher: It Ain't Mr. Holland's Opus

Teaching is fun though. You feel like yer making a difference - but it ain't Mr. Holland's Opus.

“A Mere Labyrinth of Letters”: Preoccupations of Librarianship and Epistemological Conjecturing in Borges’ “The Library of Babel”

An illustration of the Library of Babel by Erik Desmazieres

Librarians Share Two Major Philosophical Preoccupations:

1. The idea of a total library
2. The futility of such a library

Librarians are “total” in their desire for a perfect, complete library. Unfortunately, this totalizing mindset can fossilize into the belief that if something isn’t in the library, it doesn’t exist. The promise of total, accessible knowledge (the first preoccupation) is shadowed by the futility of searching through miles of records for that one essential piece (the second preoccupation). Catalogers perpetually compare the catalog to the shelf, hoping for a perfect match—a Sisyphean task that is never truly finished. This struggle isn’t unique to librarianship but echoes throughout Western philosophy. Ever since Thales posited that all existence rests on a single principle, thinkers have sought an absolute—a “univocity”—that undergirds reality. The search remains forever unfinished, yet it continues.

Note on New Orleans Nightlife: Leaving the Bars

Nude Descending a Staircase

Now, in the city of New Orleans, a good time can be broken down into twos:

Hang out at a bar

Or

Hang out at a house (bar)

Both are pretty much the same choice in a city that looks with suspicion on people who don't drink.

If you tell your friends you're not drinking tonight, they'll inevitably say, "Oh, you don't drink?" and then whisper to each other, "Is he an alcoholic?"

Now, those who drink a lot are certainly prone to rules. If you hang out at bars, you'll find it's common practice to treat the bartender like a god. Don't mess with her (or him). Or you'll be kicked out.

Walking down South Carrolton Avenue near the Riverbend on most nights in the Spring, it is easy to find people outside drinking, grilling, walking, drinking - the local bars are filled and people are sitting out on patio decks in front of restaurants (this city has more food than the Vatican has indulgences) or coffee shops.

There's a grocery store near Dante and Cohn streets where people get a six pack: people ride their bikes along Carrolton, drink a bit, eat crayfish at the Fly (the park behind the Audubon Zoo). My buddy's getting married this coming weekend. He's having his birthday at the fly, a cozy municipal park with an unobstructed view of the Mississippi River.

A bit of nostalgia pervades this post.

This post is a valediction of sorts. I'm saying farewell. So, I conjure up images of a city.

New Orleans sleeps. The denizens here are notorious for the eazy but we still show up for work and we still dress snazzy when the occasion merits it.

It's funny. For a city that places emphasis on laissez-faire, it's easy to deconstruct that concept and rather interpret the city as rather insular and rigid.

We do party here. But our festivity borders on the vicissitudes of human suffering. Just today, a man doused in a sheen of silver paint loiters in front of the Robert's on S. Claiborne Avenue. He looks like a misplaced French Quarter performer. He shuffles around the parking lot as if lost.

On Facebook, a random user bemoans an LA Times article that paints a laissez-faire city more interested in the beat of tourist dollars and the mambo rather than collaborating to stop the oil leak in the gulf.

"Oh, we don't deal with crude oil, just the end consumer's access to gasoline."

Why so angry? The city is a paradox. When the mirror is put to the Cresent City's face we balk and turn our convivial nature to indignance.

Here the party scene is a masked insouciance for opting out of social responsibility. What can you do but pop another shot, neat? I think I finally understand Walker Percy's quote about dispelling anomie with a glass of bourbon. He must've lived here!

We love our traditions and culture (laissez-faire) but fail to wake up from our Mardi Gras slumber and DO something.

Our city is beautiful. The city struts herself like boys on a bar. We pop dollars (at Liuzza's last night, a feverish 30 something women showed we here stash of dollars she saved for her vacation here) and a group of petroleum engineers in front of John Besh's August raved about food but wouldn't even answer a question about the danger of oil exploration. The metaphor for the city (a parallax view) is of the nude descending a staircase.

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Flash Fiction: "Tar Pit Dream"

I dreamt last night that I lost Harrison. We were sitting in my Honda Coupe exchanging glances and soft words, not knowing it would be my last and as it started to rain I just figured it was the time-worn pattern of weather, not a thick wet shield that drenched the Crescent City in a goldfish bowl-like flood. We managed to cling together despite the rising of the dark, dirt water all around us; the cars, stacked neatly in row upon numbered row, submerged evenly, then the streetcars, then the first floor, then the second — water even filled up the cages in the Audubon Zoo. In my dream we both found refuge on Monkey Hill — I remember that, the highest spot in the city — and I could see from where I stood the spire of Saint Louis Cathedral — and the more I spoke to Harrison the more he sank and the more the cathedral looked dry and welcoming, the soot and sin scraped off Decatur and Bourbon like it had gone through a full-service gas station. When I awoke in my fevered drenched four-poster, a faint halo of Harrison's crown sinking into the tar colored water dovetailed in my mind's eye and with a throaty taste of peanut butter from the night before, stuck somewhere in my neck, and I gasped.

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Image Source: 'The naked young man sitting by the sea' (1836) by Jean-Hippolyte Flandrin; Musée du Louvre, Paris

Printables: Blank World Map for Printing (with borders)

In an effort to raise Geography Awareness, here is a blank World Map.

Can you :

• Name all the oceans spelled correctly?
• Name the continents of the world spelled correctly?
• Identify the state and capital you live in currently

PDF version for printing

Check out my Teachers' marketplace on Teachers Pay Teachers for more resources I have made for use in any classroom.

Facebook Haiku

his profile pic reads

want love eyes on status

an orgy of likes

Quote of the Day

makezine

You may be a precious snowflake, but if you can't express your individuality in sterling prose, I don't want to read about it.

Ted Genoways

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Poem: “Backyard Fantasyland”

We hop around bridges, we dance with
trolls. We have a blast with ants. We
meet with nymphs and fairys.

Rabbits show the way. It is so nice
to know they have something to say.

A Badger invites us to tea, with a little
sponge cake.

A faun entertains us with a dance in
a meadow filled with dew.

All of these things happened in a five
year old’s backyard.

---

All you need is an imagination

See the mind, see the bridge, see almost
anything. All you need is an imagination.
Say, you are doing good.

January 13, 1994

Photo: Bike

Common French Phrases with English Translations

French	Literal Translation	English Equivalent
Avoir mal au coeur	To have a pain in the heart	To feel sick to the stomach
Bouche cousue!	Mouth sewn up!	Mum’s the word!
La bête à bon Dieu	God’s fool	A ladybug or a ladybird
Dites, “Qurante-quatre!”	Say, “Forty-four!”	Say, “Ah!”
Poisson d’avril	April fish	April’s fool
Gober la mouche	To swallow the fly	Swallow the bait, a gullible person swallows it, “hook, line, and sinker”
Ecriture de chat	Cat’s writing	Scribble scratch
Avoir le cafard	To have the cockroach	To be down in the dumps
Mets le dans ta pouche avec ton mouchoir dessus	Put it in your pocket with your handkerchief on top	Put it in your pipe and smoke it
Jouer à saute — mouton	To play jump-sheep	To play leap-frog
Revenons a nos mouton	Let’s get back to our sheep	Let’s get back to the subject
Vouloir, c’est pouvoir	To wish is to be able	To wish is to be able
A bon chat, bon rat	To the good cat, a good rat	To the good cat, a good rat
Le chouchou de prof	The teacher’s cabbage	The teacher’s pet
dent-de-lion	Lion’s tooth	a dandelion
Il m’aime un peau...beaucoup...passionnement...à la folie...pas du tout	He loves me a little...a lot...passionately..madly… not at all	He loves me…he loves me not
Si jeunesse savait, si viellesse pouvait	If the young only knew, if the old only could	Youth is wasted on the young
Le champ est libre	The field is clear	The coast is clear
A bon chien, il ne vient jamais un bon os	A good dog never gets a good bone	Nice guys finish last
On aurait entendu une mouche voler	You could have heard a fly fly	You could have heard a pin drop
Mettre la puce à l’oreille à quelqu’un	To put the flea in someone’s ear	To annoy someone
Avoir le main verte	To have a green hand	To have a green thumb
Être beurré	To be buttered	To be plastered
Latin de cuisine	Kitchen Latin	Pig Latin
C’est du chinois	It’s Chinese	It’s Greek to me

Lagniappe:
Words with ugly meanings but beautiful sounds in French

la poubelle	garbage can
un ronfleur	a snorer
une mouffete	a skunk
une toilette	a toilet

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Quote on Insanity and Sanity From Woman Warrior by Maxine Hong Kingston

The difference between mad people and sane people [...] is that sane people have variety when they talk-story. Mad people have only one story that they talk over and over. 
                       - Maxine Hong Kingston Woman Warrior: Memoirs of a Girlhood Among Ghosts (p. 159)

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Source: Kingston, Maxine H. The Woman Warrior: Memoirs of a Girlhood Among Ghosts. New York: Vintage Books, 1989; 1976. Print.

Image Credit: NYPL Digital Collection: "Act II Tea": Two women in Chinese jackets, elaborate hair and gold trousers; one man in dark trousers, red jacket, and Asian conical hat.

Quote of the Day: Anne Carson On the Social Contract

photo credit: notjanedoe

I wanted to find one law to cover all of living. I found fear.

— Anne Carson

Source: Carson, Anne. Plainwater: Essays and Poetry. New York: Vintage Contemporaries, 2000. Print.

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