Month: April 2007

  • The Writing's on the Ground

    In the April Rake [“Cuddly Kierkegaardians”], Dan Sinykin mused that “Søren Kierkegaard … wrote more than thirty books during his life (1813-1855) on topics ranging from faith to seduction. That’s a lot of ink for a man whose favorite thinkers, Socrates and Jesus, never penned a word.”

    I’d agree that Socrates and Jesus never saw a Bic or a Biro, but assuming that “penned” here is just meant as a variant on “wrote,” this is seemingly not true of Jesus (though perhaps so of Socrates). See John, chapter 8, verses 6-8:

    6 This they said, tempting him, that they might have to accuse him. But Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground, as though he heard them not.

    7 So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

    8 And again he stooped down, and wrote on the ground.

    Dennis Lien, Minneapolis

  • Life, Friends, Is the Pits

    Psychiatrist Kevin Turnquist gave an excellent response, conservative and correct, to important questions about “depression” and related issues [“The Doctor is In,” April].
    I find that the word “depression” nowadays is loosely used and over-used by the general public. Where once we were “unhappy” or “down” or “moody” or “low,” now we are “depressed.” This buzzword too often gets us directed—unnecessarily—to a mental-health practitioner for treatment.

    Life is not a bowl of cherries; it has its pits. When we feel “low” or “down,” by no means does this mean that we need professional treatment for depression. Talk with a friend. A relative or religious leader can help us when we feel “low.” So will a vacation, change of scene, another activity, or merely time itself. If our happiness interferes not with our work, social life, or our physical well-being, then (in my view) we are only “unhappy”; we are not mentally “depressed” such as to need treatment.

    Unfortunately, in these times there is a pervasive attitude that no discomfort, mental or physical, is allowed—and an immediate treatment or a pill is called for. And we forget that sometimes the “treatment” is worse than the “disease.”

    Leo Shatin, Ph.D., F.A. P.A., Plymouth

  • Semantics of the Unfamiliar

    Thank you for the moving and chilling story about Fozia Mussa [“Country Girl,” April]. I am glad she, unlike so many others, is getting the opportunity to explore her potential and is doing so much with it. There certainly is more than enough racism and xenophobia in the world. However, many if not most of us stare, peer, and yes, even “gawk” at things that are unusual that we are trying to understand. To describe looks as “sneers” and impute racism and xenophobia to scrutiny or long glances seems unfair and excessive; political correctness runs amok. Seeing is believing but believing is seeing as well. It is our attitudes that primarily divide us. I am glad Mussa “paid little attention to the apparent xenophobia,” perhaps she didn’t see it, and chose hope over fear in accepting help and the hand of friendship from a rival clan. Hopefully revealing hers will not “lead to trouble” with her clients.

    John G. Newman, Minneapolis

  • Tenet Sells the Revision

    The question I’ve always had about George Tenet — seen this evening on “60 Minutes” getting feisty with Scott Pelley — is this: How exactly did he, a Clinton-appointee running the goddam CIA, pass muster with Dick Cheney and hang on into the Bush 43 administration? I mean, here was a crowd gone obsessional with doing everything the opposite of Bill Clinton. North Korea? No talking and no deals! Measured fiscal prudence? Gargantuan tax cuts for the Top 1%! And every disposable FOB anywhere in Washington … overboard! But they leave Clinton’s guy running the CIA? The Coast Guard, maybe. But the CIA is one job where you want an unequivocal Kool-Aid partisan, like, uh, Porter Goss.

    From what I’ve read Tenet plays the man’s man game pretty well. He is cocksure and smokes a good cigar. But someone like Cheney had to have some kind of deep assurance that Tenet was not going to be a problem, either with him or with the Richard Perle-Paul Wolfowitz crowd squeezing the Iraq alarm even before 9/11, to survive the Clinton cauterizing going on everywhere else in the federal bureaucracy.

    But here is Tenet now selling his version of history. Granted, it is a version pretty much lacking in surprise and neatly in step with everything else we’ve learned — and Condoleeza Rice, Cheney and Bush continue to deny, to their further utter marginalization.

    I’m all for public officials stepping up and admitting they screwed up — even if they do it by way of fulfilling a $4 million book contract — but the primary strike against Tenet, which maybe he’ll answer better when he testifies before Congress, is why he didn’t step up and scream, “Bullshit!” two years ago, when he realized that either Cheney, Bush, Rice or Andy Card had sold him out to Bob Woodward.

    If he stays as combative as he was with Pelley it’ll be one of the more interesting book tours in recent years. (Must check to see if he’s doing Stewart).

  • Thus Far, A Season Without A Script: The Weekend

    The Twins have now lost three of Johan Santana’s last four starts, which would be disastrous were it not for the surprising performances of Ramon Ortiz and Carlos Silva.

    Everybody, of course, is just figuring that anything positive that Santana can give the team in April is gravy, given his slow starts in recent seasons. I think that’s about the right way to look at it, and it’s sort of easy to look at it that way when the team has had an erratic April and is still 14-11 and in second place in the Central. It’s easy to look at it that way when two of the big rotation question marks coming out of spring training have thus far silenced critics.

    There was no reason to expect that the team that lost five-out-of-six to Kansas City and Cleveland would go to Detroit and take two-out-of-three, but therein lies the basic truth about baseball: there’s really never any reason to expect anything, other than the unexpected. The Twins’ season has already had more highs and lows than a Hold Steady record, but they’re sitting in pretty good shape as they head to Tampa Bay for what should —should— be a little breather (it won’t be, of course, if only because Sidney Ponson takes the hill in the opener) before heading into one of the toughest stretches of the first half: a homestand featuring series with Boston, Chicago, and Detroit, and then a three-game set at Jacobs Field.

    Today’s game –a 4-3 loss on a Brandon Inge walk-off homer against the struggling Jesse Crain– demonstrated how much the Twins depend on their middle of the order guys. Gardenhire shook up the lineup; Punto led off, and Bartlett hit second, and they were on base five times, but didn’t score any runs owing to the fact that Mauer, Cuddyer, and Morneau were a combined 0-10.

    So far ’07 is looking like a repeat of last season in that the three-through-six guys in the batting order (Mauer, Cuddyer, Morneau, and Hunter) are the top four on the team in both RBI and runs scored.

    As far as Crain’s wretched April goes, I’m not going to get too concerned until we get a couple more months out of the way. He was awful last April as well (12 IP, 20 hits allowed, and a 7.50 ERA).

  • RetroRama Redux

    car.jpgThe Minnesota History Center certainly hit upon a fetish last night. The place was so crowded at the first-ever RetroRama that a girl couldn’t even get a pink martini. Note to self: Next time, heed that time-honored tradition of packing a flask in your stockings.

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    Even though I couldn’t get a drink and didn’t come close to the retro hors d’oeuvres, I did get an eyeful of fabulous vintage wear. The partygoers were decked out in all manner of dandy suits and New Look-inspired dresses. I ran into such throwbacks as Lit Sixer Stephanie Wilbur Ash and Southern gentleman-about-town Andy Sturdevant. (Pardon the horrible lighting here. This is but a low-tech blog and I am but an idiot with an Elph.)

    retail 2.jpgPeople-watching aside, the evening existed in four or so parts:

    Part One: Shop. Succotash and Up Six were on hand to sell lots of nifty stuff. But, because I had to rush off to the fashion show, I wasn’t able to snag these gorgeous silver ankle boots.

    tiedress.jpgPart Two: Fashion Show. (I just said that …) Various local designers took inspiration from the History Center’s archives, and came up with …

    A tie skirt, and it was cool as heck …

    suit.jpg

    A bad-boy suit with some bad-ass details … (The model wasn’t bad either.)

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    Slinky satin lingerie …

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    A sexy, showgirl-style headdress …

    bestdress.jpg

    And last, but certainly not least, this gorgeous, New Look-shaped dress made from upholstery fabrics and stitched together with gold and black thread. The dress, designed by Allyson J. Thornton, was inspired by a dress worn by Miss Minnesota 1948. Here we have Miss Minnesota 2007 modeling what was everyone’s favorite piece of the evening.

    And here we have a detail shot of the fabric. Mmm, Mmm.

    detail.jpg

    clutch.jpg Part Three: Arts and Crafts. The History Center crafts council kindly provided us with plenty of leather scraps and duct tape. I made this deco-esque clutch, whereas my friend Adam made the artsy tie below. Sadly, both items are headed straight for the trash bin. (Note: Adam’s tie, cool though it may be, had to be taped onto his shirt.)

    tie.jpg

    Part Four: The New Standards. None for me, thanks …

  • Predictably, the Paulose Connection Deepens While Strib Group-Think Muddles

    One of the mustier traditions of newspaper writing is the amount of group-think involved in crafting the first paragraph of a story — in journalism jargon known as “the lede”. Tradition says that the first paragraph should contain the essence of all the information to follow. Tradition also implies that that first paragraph represent the newspaper’s institutional attitude toward the story.

    Despite abundant evidence that modern readers value a little punch and style as much as a, uh, “fair and balanced” recitation of facts, when you read a story like this morning’s Star Tribune piece titled, “Concerns over Heffelfinger reportedly raised at Justice”, you can smell the hands of nervous, second-guessing, group-thinking editors all over it.

    As I and many others having been saying for weeks now — including the Strib’s editorial page and, most prominently, columnist Nick Coleman — the Strib, there’s no kind way to put this, has flat-out failed to properly (i.e. adequately) explore the high likelihood that the abrupt departure of US Attorney Tom Heffelfinger may in some way be related to the rather large, politically and ethically significant firing of eight other US Attorneys that erupted into a national scandal five months ago and is still building.

    A group-think lede, with handful of editors re-re-re-re-crafting that all-important first paragraph to properly assert the paper’s institutional thinking/position on a given story gives you a contrast like we see today between the original reporting from D.C. and the Strib’s massaging for local consumption.

    Here, first, is the lede paragraph in the latest story from the Strib’s former D.C. bureau, McClatchy Newspapers.
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    WASHINGTON – The Bush administration considered firing the former U.S. attorney in Minnesota, but he left his job voluntarily before the list of attorneys to be ousted was completed, two congressional aides said Thursday.
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    (The entire piece is here).

    Not a lot of style. But punchy and direct to the key point … that thanks to new testimony by a former Justice Department official with knowledge of the whole affair — Kyle Sampson — the story has now taken a leap well beyond “presumption” vis a vis Mr. Heffelfinger.

    Cut now to the Strib’s “crafting” of the same news:
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    WASHINGTON – Senior Justice Department officials raised concerns about then-U.S. Attorney Tom Heffelfinger sometime after October 2005, according to a congressional aide familiar with what a former chief of staff to Attorney General Alberto Gonzales told House and Senate staff members last week.
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    Never mind the complete absence of style and the convoluted splatter of dulling bureaucratic verbiage like “senior”, “aides”,”officials” and “staff members”, how about the complete avoidance of the rather essential and connective word, “fire”? Note also how the McClatchy report — the latest in a series of precisely the sort of professional, skeptical reporting newspapers normally expect of their DC bureaus and that the Strib has declined to re-print — distills the essence of the whole business into THE FIRST SENTENCE.

    Namely, “The Bush administration considered firing the former U.S. Attorney in Minnesota … ,” while the Strib committee prefers instead, “Senior Justice Department officials raised concerns … ” yadda yadda. (Other recent MCClatchy reports here, here and here.

    Can we agree that by now all arrows are pointing well past and beyond the hapless Alberto Gonzales and directly at, “The Bush administration”? Note to Strib political editor group: I think it is now … safe … to say that the “Bush administration” had something to do with this.

    Also note that despite the appearance of a long-awaited link — courtesy of “a congressional aide familiar with … [zzzzz]”, the Strib plays the revelation inside on A4. (On the front page — breaking news on eating disorders). As I say, Strib group-thinkers have consistently decided against re-printing their former colleagues’ work on this story, preferring instead to either ignore McClatchy reports entirely or re-craft them into something more, shall we say, “appropriate” for their institutional voice. (Shades of punching up those New York Times pieces they run every so often.)

    At this point in the US Attorneys-Heffelfinger-Paulose story, with Monica Goodling, Paulose’s close-personal friend, having been granted immunity in exchange for her testimony on the matter, with Gonzales being asked to prepare, you know, actual answers to all the questions he could not “recall” last week and with subpoenas approved for Karl Rove and Harriet Miers, I’m guessing the Strib’s group-thinkers are praying for an asteroid impact to distract public attention from the bizzare lack of editorial judgment they’ve displayed in this significant, substantive matter.

    And while I’m at it, yes, if it weren’t for Nick Coleman pushing and prodding and writing on this story, the Strib would have as much relevance on the Heffelfinger angle as the Excelsior-Shorewood Sun Sailor. Coleman hit it again this morning with a “lede” that plays like this:

    “Minnesota’s U.S. attorney, Rachel K. Paulose, has waged a public relations campaign to salvage her position since allegations were raised that her appointment was part of the Bush administration’s efforts to place political loyalists in U.S. attorney offices, especially in states expected to be “battlegrounds” in the 2008 election.” The whole column is here.

    I’ve read more style out of the boy, but that lede gets directly to the heart of the story — a significant local angle on a major national scandal — that the Strib’s group-thinkers have chosen instead to minimize/suppress/downplay/ignore/hope will go away … take your pick.

  • Movies for the Young (and the Young at Heart)

    lepel.spoon.gif

    Once again, your best bets this weekend, cinema-wise, are to be found at the Minneapolis/St. Paul International Film Festival, and the Childish Film Festival within it in particular.

    This weekend sees a pair of international features for kids and some awesome animated shorts. On Saturday, take the young ones to Flights of Fancy, wonderful shorts from around the world (11 am at the Oak Street Cinema). Later, older kids (pre-teens, still), will get a kick from the delightful Lepel (Spoon). Lepel is yet another manic Danish film, this time about a kid whose lost his parents when their hot air balloon spirits them away. And once again, like in Bonkers a week earlier, Lepel doesn’t shy away from some tetchy adult issues, like falling in love. You and your kid will have a blast! (Saturday at 2:30 at the Oak).

    I didn’t get a chance to screen the South African film A Boy Called Twist, but I’m thrilled at the thought of catching it on Sunday. Again, this is ostensibly a kids’ flick. But Twist is billed as a “contemporary telling of Dickens’ Oliver Twist“, which, I have to say, is an awesome idea (and reflects Roman Polanski’s lack of imagination that he didn’t do it himself with his recent, dull-as-dirt adaptation). Set on the streets of Cape Town, with a young boy joining Fagin’s den of thieves and miscreants, Twist promises to be a wonder. Showing Sunday at 11am at the Oak Street Cinema.

  • B Happy, B Pudding

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    ramps, my dears, ramps!

    It looks like a nice weekend for a drive, no? Choose wisely and head down to the historic LeDuc Mansion in Hastings for a little food festival sponsored by the Northern Heartland Food and Wine Learning Center.

    Check out wine and cheese pairings with Nan Bailly of Alexis Bailly Vineyards and Patrick the Cheeseguy (he’s funny). Get into the kick of Spring by sampling some local wild edibles (I’m thinking ramps and morels), maple syrup, duck eggs, honey, herb plants and more. Saturday from 1pm – 4pm.

    If you’re going to stay metro, you can at least rejoice that it’s an open weekend for both the Mpls and St. Paul Farmers Markets. Even if you’re only buying flowers, at least you can start the season off right with freshly squeezed lemonade and a Polish for breakfast.

    I plan to muck around the yard this weekend. I stopped by Lucia’s Take Home the other day, and the fresh bread of the day happened to be the Aztec loaf: slightly laced with chili spice and dotted with nubs of dark chocolate. It’s that earthy/spicy chocolate and heat combination that I love. Two loaves please.

    The first, I turned into a bread pudding. Not too sweet, just custardy and dusky enough to hit the spot. If you lean on the sweeter side you can either add more sugar or pair it with freshly whipped cream touched with Kahlua. It may not seem Springy, but thankfully there is no season for bread. The second loaf is destined to become Sunday morning’s French toast.

    Aztec Bread Pudding
    1 loaf Lucia’s Aztec loaf, ripped into 1 inch pieces
    5 eggs
    2 cups milk
    1 1/2 cups cream
    1 tsp vanilla
    1 T Penzey’s pie spice
    1/4 cup sugar
    sprinkling of brown sugar

    Butter a 13×9 baking dish, pre-heat oven to 350.
    Rip or cut bread into hunks and set aside in a big, big bowl.
    In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs, milk, cream, vanilla, spices, and sugar. Dump over the bread hunks and mix thoroughly, bread should soak up much of the liquid and look plump and squidgy. Pour into pan, cover and refrigerate for a couple hours. Uncover, sprinkle with brown sugar, and cook for about an hour or until the custard is set and the top looks crunchy.

  • One Moment Sometimes Doesn't Lead To Another

    planetarium wi - 2.JPG

    The little house with its peeling paint and mossy shingles was set well back from the street and appeared to be floating in a sea of saffron grass bleached by the sun and burnished by the fleeting sweep of twilight.

    It was hot. There wasn’t a shadow left in which to take refuge, and there wasn’t a single thing moving in any direction.

    If you stood in the middle of the street you would hear the unreal, thrumming silence of dusk in a dead-end place and you’d smell the rain that would creep in after darkness fell. If you stood still and listened hard you could probably hear the surf of truck traffic on the highway at the edge of town. And if you stood there long enough you might eventually see a child aboard a bicycle glide silently like a dream fragment through the intersection at the end of the block.

    You might.

    But you might not. There weren’t a lot of children around anymore.

    If you took a few steps up the front sidewalk you’d smell the cigarette smoke that was drifting in almost rhythmic waves through the window screen. And if you were bored or curious enough to press your face to the screen you’d see an unfinished jigsaw puzzle spread out on a card table, a windmill and a field of red tulips shot full of jagged holes. You’d see an orange plastic ashtray with a burning cigarette wedged in one of the badly-stained slots, and an abandoned game of Solitaire lined up on a coffee table. An old woman would be sitting there in a faded sun dress imprinted with a pattern of what might have been sunflowers. Across the room from her, sitting utterly still in a recliner, his bare feet just jutting into the left side of the frame (you’d have to move or crane your neck to take him all in), would be a shirtless man wearing nothing but boxer shorts and holding a pistol in his lap.

    From another room in the house you’d hear the disconsolate burst of a television laugh track.

    You wouldn’t necessarily know this, though, so I’ll tell you: I’ve fired that gun before, but I’ve been waiting my whole life to really shoot something.