CSotD: There are no wrong directions, only longer routes
Skip to comments
Let's start today with Sheldon, because I'm gonna be a cranky old man for most of the post, so why not begin with an overtly cranky-old-man gag?
I resisted GPS for awhile not because I'm a cranky old man but because I didn't feel any need for it. When I first moved to New Hampshire, my son wanted me to borrow his, but (A) I didn't want to mess with it and (B) I wanted to learn my way around and felt the GPS would keep that from happening.
I feel okay about both those reasons, but recently I've been traveling out of the area more often, so I got a cheap TomTom and used it on a trip to Albany earlier this week.
It lead me through some twisty Vermont byways and to the client's door, though I think it's better in the country than in the city, since it has a kind of hypothetical theory about what constitutes an actual street, which doesn't matter too much when they're a half mile apart.
But, in the city, "second right" seems to mean "second stop light." Except when it doesn't.
Fortunately, TomTom is infinitely patient and will lead you around and around the same neighborhood for as long as it takes until you figure out what it actually wants you to do. Human navigators, in my experience, become a little more testy.
I don't know whether to suggest re-programming TomTom to become increasingly annoyed or suggesting that you imagine how bizarre it would be if people did not.
I think I'd be less freaked out by a GPS that started calling me names than by an actual person who continued to give the same vague directions over and over in the same bland tone of voice.
Yeah, I know. And it kinda scares me.
Mission Impossible
And Wiley touches on one of my cranky-old-man central issues with today's Non Sequitur.
My day job, the one that pays the rent, involves editing the work of, and mentoring, a troupe of middle-school writers so that they can produce decent journalism.
The biggest challenge is in teaching them that, while pleasing the editor is certainly a critical goal, you don't please the editor by trying to guess, and parrot, what you think he wants you to think.
This is counter to about 85 percent of what they learn in school, where essay questions are pretty much graded one-quarter on grammar and three-quarters on how well you have mirrored the opinion your teacher was attempting to instill. Not only is there, indeed, such a thing as a wrong opinion, but, in way too many classes, there is only one right opinion.
It's not universal. I was very impressed with my younger son's math teacher in high school, because I had learned geometry-by-rote, so that there was one way to prove two triangles congruent and that was by gawd how you did it. Right or wrong, up or down, pass or fail.
With this guy, however, if you proved it differently, he'd sit you down and say, "Okay, yes, that works and you're right, but look at this method: It's not only fewer steps, but it's going to come in handy when we get to this next part, because …"
So instead of "learning" geometry, his students ended up understanding geometry. Fancy that!
There is a technical term in teaching, "dignifying an incorrect answer," and his approach is how it's supposed to work, though, more often, it's a little weaker, "Well, elephants do eat peanuts, but usually a person on a park bench is feeding peanuts to a different kind of animal …" or, too often even if it only happens once, "That's a good answer, but you're full of shit."
Which is to say, you can get teachers to use the concept, but they have to believe in it to make it work. And good teachers are certainly out there, but they don't make for funny comics, now, do they?
Nor would a properly formatted, 300-word book report explaining precisely why Danae thought the book was a waste of time be as funny as her boiled-down Twitter version.
Still, there are too many classrooms where she'd end up with the same grade anyway, and where too many kids learn not to have "wrong" opinions.
Which is why I treasure the just-turned-11 writer who provided a review of a book a few weeks ago which included these gems:
Disconnected storyline? Check. Boring characters? Check. Unsatisfying ending? Check and check! "The Ruining" is a ruining of the fascinating genre of psychological thrillers. … It isn’t completely awful, but it definitely shouldn’t be at the top of your To-Read List. …
The pace of this novel alternated between so fast it was confusing, and so slow it was boring. Occasionally, intriguing things would happen. There were just enough of these occasions to keep you plodding through the story. But the interesting parts soon ended and were never followed up on. And doesn’t it worry you that the most compelling character in the novel was a three-year who was captivating simply due to her cute, lilting speech? …
If you still want to read this book, consider your age. 12 or 13 years of age is probably the youngest you should be reading "The Ruining." It contains lots of medium-to-bad swear words. Also, there are several scenes in which inappropriate things are discussed. But in truth, the writing and storyline are much worse than the few inappropriate sections could ever be.
I adore this child, who, by the by, has also written some very positive, even joyous reviews of books.
But she calls 'em as she sees 'em, and she's got pretty good vision.
When "de-extinction" was in the news (a year ago, when she had just turned 10), I sent her off to the museum to interview a zoologist/geneticist about the possibility of using DNA from fossils to bring back extinct animals, expecting some light discussion of having a pet woolly mammoth and more serious talk of passenger pigeons, but she took the story in a whole other direction, noting that it does little good to bring back an animal if you've destroyed its habitat:
At some point, ethics come into this. Some think that bringing back extinct species is "playing God". But others believe that we "played God" in the first place when we drove these poor creatures to extinction. … We may be able to somewhat redeem ourselves with cloning, but this doesn't mean we can keep going around, wiping out nearly 200 plant and animal species a day.
And you thought Danae was only a cartoon character?
Speaking of bringing back the extinct …
I'm really torn about how much I enjoy Doonesbury reruns. As with Peanuts reruns, I'd like them to get the hell off the printed page and make way for other artists in a tough, shrinking market. On the other hand, when they're on the infinite page of the Internet, it's delightful to revisit greatness.
Comments 4
Comments are closed.