The F Bomb is a Sad Adjective and Other Free Speech Woes

Okay, so I've missed writing this blog. I've missed the conversational tone and processing some ideas which have really stuck with me. These are blog entries, not college expository essays. I may ramble.

And today, I need to ramble a bit about free speech. Two things have collided in my brain this past week and I need to process. First, there's David Guth, a professor at the Univeristy of Kansas and all the heat he's received for a recent tweet involving the NRA. The tweet-in-question read: "The blood is on the hands of the #NRA. Next time, let it be YOUR sons and daughters. Shame on you. May God damn you." The second... well this post ("Dear Guy Who Just Made My Burrito") at Medium (New to you? Me too.). It's a funny (and truthful) piece in which he uses the F-bomb. Ubiquitously.

I've wrestled with this free speech issue. When I was seventeen (and it was a pretty good year), I wasn't allowed to buy a copy of Faith No More's Angel Dust because of the explicit lyrics decal. Yes, this was way back in 1992. Remember CDs? Anyone? I was still listening to cassette tapes, too. I was fired up. Angry. How dare some over-inflated political ninny tell me to what I can or cannot listen? This I believe: free speech is important to me personally and vital to the health of a free, educated society.

What steps over the free speech line? What is free expression and what is profane/inappropriate/illegal? Who decides where to place the line?

Once upon a time, I had a student with a large "Freedom of Fucking Speech" decal across his school planner. Really? Let me repeat: Free speech is important to me personally and vital to the health of a free, educated society. I'm not sure which part of that statement is synonymous with "carpet F-bomb when/wherever you'd like". So yeah, Mr. Lucky Shirt's post about burritos is funny, but after a certain number of "fucking chance"s and "fucking empires of sour cream" I shut down and stop reading. If I was still teaching, I would have told my students the offense lies in lazy writing, not a personal issue with the f-word. Is "fucking" the best adjective he could muster? It certainly isn't the most accurate (unless he eats his burritos differently than me).

For those of you who like analogies, I liken using "freedom of speech" to cover for poor writing and the need to "fuck" everything (in writing)  to a man who would buy a Mercedes-Benz and enter it in the demolition derby at the Douglas County Fair. Way to use those resources, dude.

But what about David Guth? I still don't know. He teaches at a university--supposedly a bastion for free speech and intellectual discourse. But it is a publicly supported university (getting at least a small chunk of funds from public tax coffers). People (taxpayers and lawmakers) get their feathers ruffled. It seems to be a matter of tone. If he had posted "What if it is your sons and daughters next time?" instead of "Next time, let it be YOUR sons and daughters." I think the effect might be different. But does it matter? In Twitterland, you only have 140 characters per thought.

And that, dear friends, is why I missed blogging. Ramble on.

Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2013/09/23/4502296/experts-ku-profs-twitter-case.html#storylink=cpy

Temper Tantrums

Temper tantrums... Who said they were limited to children. Read the comments on any contraversial blog, and you'll quickly see my point.

With the impending birth of our third child, this NPR story about tantrums really caught my attention.

The most important lesson: when a child is angry, do nothing.

This works for internet trolls, too. Don't respond to the negative comments, and magic happens.

Food for thought.

Green Beans: An Allegory

I talk a little about We are the Monsters at Indie Books Blog today.

But this blog post is a story about perceived value versus actual value...

I have a friend who worked for a local family farm on Fridays. (she has a regular, full-time salaried position at a local church, and Friday is her day off.) She helped prepare for the Farmer's Market on Saturday.

During green bean season, when beans were plentiful, the local farmers charge $4 a pound for their locally-raised goods. The grocery stores charge 99 cents.

My friend told me all the local farmers throw away pounds and pounds of green beans, but they won't lower their prices. Why? Because people should want to pay $4 for the local food. They should pay that much because it's the "right thing to do."

If only economics really worked that way.

People will pay what they pay. I'll write more about this next week, but for now...

Have a great St. Patrick's Day. If you go to a pub/bar/drinking establishment, bring your own food dye. The barman might charge extra for green beer.

;)

I am a Social Animal

Thank Zeus for the Interweb^TM. I think many modern writers can maintain their sanity because of the connection with other writerly types which may not have existed before. We all have dreams and doubts and wishes and fears, but with technology, we can share them and not feel so alone. Granted, it allows mean people to be mean with impunity (e.g., anonymous comments), but all in all, I think the added interaction is a win for the human race.

I happened to hear an interview with David Brooks, author of The Social Animal, yesterday on NPR. I caught only about half, but he had things to say about interacting with students in the classroom, a topic which cut close to my heart. The rest of the interview is worth a listen.

Where would we be without each other?

Thanks for the support, encouragement, and swift kicks to the buttocks when necessary. I wouldn't have stuck with writing without a little help from my fellow animals.

Enough of this sappy crap. I promise I'll share something scary tomorrow. Promise.

On Plagiarists, Fake Names, and Other Random Things

Let me say one thing about stealing someone's fiction and claiming as your own: it doesn't pay. It doesn't pay in financial terms, and it sure as hell doesn't pay in the destructive force said plagiarist calls upon him/herself, especially in the era of Google searches and the interweb^TM. Not to mention a whole slew of explicatives I'd love to sling at plagiarists for being total %($&#@s, but this is a "family oriented" blog after all. (Like hell it is.)

Evidently there's a new plagiarist in town, but he's not new at all.

From Jodi Lee: "I was recently tipped off (via twitter) to proof that David “Doc” Byron has been plagiarizing works, presumably from people that have submitted to one of his many little for-the-love projects."

You can track the discussion from there.

This has happened before, to me. I'm sure it happens all the time. I don't understand the mind of some people, especially when stealing someone's story and posting for free online...or giving away to a FTL market...dude, nobody's reading your steaming, stolen, pile of dog sh*t. (Not that the original story was dog sh*t...it just became so when you put your name on it, thief.) Are you trying to build a reputation? Well, you have one. Jerk.

Speaking of names (cool off, Angry Aaron), I intended to post a little bit about fake names (for fiction). Yes, we're all familiar with random name generators, especially for fantasy and science fiction...check out this site for run-of-the-mill, normal people names (and other information). Kind of spooky...it gives you a fake credit card number even. (I hope those are fake--sheesh.)

Speaking of random, Andrea Allison of Southern Writemares plays around with random titles at her blog. My suggestion? Mix and match the words from various titles and generate something truly random, like "Flowers of Shards" or "The Twinkling Boyfriend".

(I think I've heard of that last one...)

Speaking of overused transitional phrases, have a great day, huh?

Meat. And Storytelling.

I couldn't help but listen to this story from NPR...a bit of human evolutionary history coupled with mention of "storytelling" as uniquely human behavior (you have to listen closely for that last bit, but it's in there).

Further proof that barbecue is good for you. Mmmmm.

"Meat, Fire, and the Evolution of Man" by Christopher Joyce

Any day I can mention barbecue and storytelling in the same post is a good day.

What is Art? What Do You Call What I Do?

To ponder: What is Art?

(the first video was my snow-day project yesterday)

So what is art (to you)? Can I call myself an artist because I've written a few stories? Are writers even artists? If I write "popular" fiction (genre or otherwise), am I still an artist?

Jeremy D. Brooks started the wheels turning on this with his post last Thursday. Thanks, Jeremy. I like it when my wheels turn.

Decade, You Have Been Good To Me

Whatever history will end up calling the last decade, she's almost over.

In the last ten years I've:

...married my wife (the current and only one).

...seen ten senior classes leave McLouth High School.

...witnessed the birth of my two beautiful boys (Owen in 2003...Max in 2006).

...started and finished my M.S. program at the University of Kansas.

...been nominated for Kansas Teacher of the Year.

...written four books and nearly 200 stories. One of the books really sucks; one is being published; the jury is still out on the others.

...lost a little hair (and a number of the survivors have gone grey).

...helped my wife through some pretty crappy post-partum depression.

...witnessed random acts of violence in the 21st Century's "new war". I'll never forget walking from my classroom on September 11th...my vice-principal told me what had happened, his face drawn and pale. Likewise, bombings in Madrid, London, elsewhere--terrorism was no longer a "Middle East" problem--not that it ever was.

...took my children to the doctor/emergency room for broken arms, fevers, anaphylactic shock, and stitches.

...grown up. A little. ('course Santa brought me a Nerf gun...so pbbbbbt to growing up)

Later this week I'll review my year in writing. For now...wow. What a decade. I know I'm leaving soooo much out. Blame it on the post-Christmas stomach flu. I know I am.

While I'm trying to remember what I forgot, please have a look at this lovely review of Kaleidotrope #7 from Tangent Online. My entry lands some favorable e-ink:

'To Put Away Childish Things’ provides some remarkable observations about the nature of humanity...

(the reviewer then goes on to kick me in the teeth with a glancing shot of feminist criticism...read for yourself)

Gotta love it.