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Showing posts from February, 2013

Good Little Psychopath

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She's a good little psychopath. I'm talking about Jody Arias, the young woman currently on trial in Arizona. Actually she's on trial in the media, as CNN's sister station, HLN is broadcasting much of the trial daily. Arias, who now admits to shooting and then stabbing her former boyfriend, is putting on a clinic in how a pathological personality works. She's arrogant and glib, she turns on the tears, and most of all, she's secure in her own belief that she is in control of everything. So we watch. And marvel at the workings of the pathological personality. It's estimated that one in 100 have that blank look in their eyes. That's a lot of people with no moral emotions. Gone. Missing. Not there. Never been there. Sometimes their victims, those who survive, want to know why? That is they only question they will ask. Trouble is, they can't answer. They are wired differently. They don't experience empathy. They can't make that lea

The Blood

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Today is one of those dark Portland days that drones on with the threat of rain from morning till late afternoon. It's a keep your indoor lights on day. It's the kind of day that makes this city out of the question for anyone with Seasonal Affect Disorder. When the rain comes, the temperature will rise a bit and the aura of threat will end in the comforting sound of rain. It's important to find something illuminated early on when the day is dark. That's a difficult task more often than not. Coffee is warm, smiles light up faces here more than other places. The high pitched voices of children exploring everything at eye level all help. Like the weather all over the country on this day, the polarization in our political thought is profound. Our middle ground is disappearing faster than books in a library. Last night the PBS program Frontline featured a show about the recent Sandy Hook school shooting. Just writing those words is difficult. In a collaborative

An Errand Completed

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I just finished a most interesting book. It only took 40 years. Truthfully, I bought the book that long ago for a college class. It was no ordinary class either. It was History 176B, the first African American history class at UCLA. Offered by Dr. Ron Takaki, who would later be my undergraduate history thesis advisor, the class was extremely popular and among those enrolled during that 1968-9 term were Kareem Abdul Jabbar. The "B" section of the course roughly went from 1865 to the present. On that reading list was a novel of Reconstruction called A Fool's Errand , by Albion Tourgee. Tourgee's thinly veiled novel was based on his own experiences as a "Carpetbagger" who moved to the state of North Carolina from his native Ohio immediately after the Civil War in 1865. The novel traces the life and philosophy of a Col. Servosse, whose Yankee naivety explains why the narrator continually refers to him as "the fool" named in the title. I

Look, Up In The Sky!

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It's a sinking feeling. We've probably all been there too. It's a particular kind of helplessness. And it usually plays out over a long stretch of time. We're talking years here. So what is this I'm introducing here and why am I being so mysterious. It needs a name, but I'm still searching. Just for he sake of this discussion we'll call it emotional blindness. An example is in order. Ever have a conversation with someone you care about that involves a poor choice they seem to have made? Most often it takes the form of a person they've recently met or are dating. Your intuition tells yo that something is very wrong here. Emotionally your friend can't see the reality before their eyes. They can't acknowledge that they may be moving too fast. That the person they find so charming right now isn't really the person they are so infatuated with. Tough call. But sometimes we, like our loved ones find ourselves particularly vulnerable

Ditto Master

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I still have a few video tapes on a closet shelf. The chances I'll ever watch one again are slim. It's still possible, but hardly worth the effort. Yet, some of the films or bits and pieces of news stories about Apartheid in South Africa or many of the videos I used in my introductory psychology class are just too important to be tossed away. At least it seems that way to me. Today, most of the video material in classrooms comes from You Tube. I haven't seen a tape or even a DVD used in a classroom in the last half a dozen years. Everything is available on line. And that's a good thing. It opens up so many possibilities. Too bad so much energy has to be expended resisting standardized tests and all the waste that comes with that before some engaging multi-media curriculum can inspire and motivate more reluctant learners. I've been thinking about all the media changes in the last 30-40 years. Not only do they make a teacher's job easier, they open up w

Banner Year

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She got it right. Oh not the halftime show at the Super Bowl. Beyonce was great, sure. But something else. Something that probably very few people took notice of or even cared about. Alicia Keys got the anthem right. If Mrs. Taylor, my elementary school music teacher, had been alive to see the spectacle, she'd have heartily approved of Alisha's rendition. She may have enjoyed the slow drawn out version. Or not. My guess is that after hearing so many versions for so long she'd have enjoyed the talented and classy Ms. Keys. But her praise would have been directed specifically at the way she sang the last line and the way she sang the word "bann-er." Mrs. Taylor came into my 4th, 5th and 6th grade classes every Thursday. As a designated soprano, I along with my classmates, would dutifully sing such grade school classics as "The Erie Canal" while she strummed her auto harp. A hulk of a woman with a pot belly and a penchant for sucking her te