The magic penis or a post about the absence of female magicians

I've been thinking a lot about magic recently.

Anyone who knows me well, and has watched me watch a magician, knows I CAN'T STAND not knowing how they do it. I squirm in my seat. I feel it's a test of my intelligence that I can't figure it out. I want to watch again, and again, and again, and try to see what I'm being directed not to see. I have been known to BEG and PLEAD to find out. Magicians usually just smile and mutter something about a code or try to distract me with something shiny or say "but that would ruin the fun."

No, it wouldn't. 

It occurred to me that I never wanted to do the trick; I just wanted to know. Then I thought, why hadn't I ever wanted to do the trick myself? 

Recently, I saw Penn & Teller, who are refreshingly honest about the fact they are fooling us, and it was an amazing show. I was able to let go of trying to figure out the illusion because I knew they weren't trying to make me feel stupid. I also just saw their new show "Penn & Teller: Fool us," a competition where the magician who can perform a trick that neither Penn nor Teller can explain wins a chance to perform in Vegas. 

While watching one competitor dress in a tutu and declare that all magic acts need a beautiful assistant,  it hit me... like a ton of bricks.

There are no women magicians. They are always the assistants or the ones picking the card from the deck or the ones giggling as the magician heckles them. 

Why? What makes the penis so magical (insert own magic wand reference)? 

Is it the idea that males who do magic are somehow Harry Potter-esque while females are evil witches?

Is it the power-- how would society react to a woman who could outsmart/fool/trick them? Penn stands onstage and labels himself a "scumbag." He act means to Teller. He is upfront that he is intending to fool us. Would that be as funny if a woman did that? 

Is it the idea that magicians are somehow criminals and ne'er-do-wells out to cheat people? One of the performers on Fool Us performed a magic trick where he bragged that if he fooled Penn & Teller,Vegas casinos wouldn't let him in. He's that good at card cheating. What about the history of seance scams and people losing money to charlatans?   

I find it hard to think that in this day and age, when women like Amy Poehler and Tina Fey can kick ass in comedy, some women wouldn't have challenged, by now, the idea that magicians are witches, bitches, and cheats. 

The Atlantic published a piece about this, and I thought one aspect was spot on. The experts were talking about magic being a social-coping mechanism. What does the nerdy, weird kid do? He does magic. And somehow there was a correlation between Magic being a puzzle the way math and science can be, and then there was that drop off of interest among females around Jr. High. Hey- isn't this also the age when girls start shying away from those STEM classes? 

Maybe women just aren't good at math and science and magic...and comedy and politics, and, yeah-- bullshit on that. 

One magic-school instructor said in the article:

In general [among the kids I teach], there's an even spread of boys and girls up until about age 10. Both sexes are willing to learn, practice and perform; when they reach 11 and 12, though, the girls drop off, especially in the performing. 

When I do a class magic session with 13- to 16-year-olds in an all-girls school, I get a really enthusiastic reception. It's all greeted with a sense of fun from the get-go, and the girls aren't really interested in how it works. If I do a class magic session with 13- to 16-year-olds in an all-boys school, it's a bit frosty to start. But once I establish credibility and share some of the mechanics with them, they're my new best friends

Hmmm...especially the performing. I wonder if this has to do with the girls not wanting to be seen, not wanting attention drawn to themselves because they don't feel like they meet the criteria of a performer.

And who are female performers?

Scantly clad

Thin.

Sexy.

subservients.

Assistants.

I wonder if female performers were smart and powerful we'd see more as magicians. 

Maybe I should take some magic classes to be a role model. 

Your thoughts?

Subverting Intelligence

One of the Americans is singled out in the statement as a former Peace Corps volunteer: “One of the detained first came to Russia in 2001 as a Peace Corps volunteer. It is known that in 2002 Peace Corps activity was banned in connection with the carrying out of intelligence-subversive activities.” From "Russia Says It Has Deported Four Americans"  

(a notebook I bought in Velikaya Guba, Russia. Was this an unrecognized sign of my true objective?)

Having served as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Russia from 2000-2002, I am apparently one of these intelligence-subvertors. I worked at a local school as an English Language Volunteer and had access to youth whose delicate intelligence was susceptible to subversion.

This article has forced me into deep self-reflection. Did I? Was I? How? Clearly, this intelligence subversion is known by everyone except me, so how could I have missed it at the time? Alas, if I ever wanted a visa to Russia again, I'd better find out and not repeat my transgression.

Upon meditating on the topic, I discovered the following ways in which I might have subverted intelligence:

1) An 11 year old hooligan once followed me from the seamstress shop repeating "kizmaiaz." It took me a second to realize he was trying to say "Kiss my ass," so I kindly stopped and addressed him. I told him, in Russian, it was three words. I had him repeat the words in English after me. He looked puzzled, said "WHAT?," and ran away. I'm pretty sure any intelligence was subverted.

2) One time, there was a last-minute teacher's meeting, and I was asked to sub for two classes of 5th graders. I was handed a book with a text about Yuri Dolgoruki and told to "teach." The students were excited that the young American who lacked any classroom management skill was in charge. I promptly went to the piano and played the only song I could, "Yankee Doodle." I told them to work in groups of three to create a song about the reading to the tune. It was a smashing success, but now I am afraid that "Yankee Doodle" might have been too much American propaganda. After all, wikipedia tells me the "call it macaroni" in the song, is really referring to "foppishness." Was I inadvertently claiming that Yuri Dolgoruki, founder of Moscow, was gay?

3) What appeared to be a gypsy stopped me on the footbridge near my home. My Russian was/is terrible, so I perceived her as a very serious woman, gesticulating wildly. I could pick out single words but had no context. I told her "I don't understand" which only made her solicitation more emphatic. In hindsight, could she have been explaining how I was carrying out "intelligence-subversive" activities? I kept repeating "I don't understand" until her eyes got large, and she ran away.My tutor thought she was trying to spook me with a story of prognostication but freaked out because I seemed simple. Now, I think she was warning me that I was connected to subverting intelligence but was too simple to understand.

4) One of my favorite classes at school was a group of 8th or 9th ( I can't remember; whose intelligence is subverted now?!) graders who were known as the dramatic/improv class. I could always count on them to speak English only and creatively dramatize boring readings. They had a reading about "Australia" so I infringed on copyright and brought "Land Down Under" as a sing-a-long. Unfortunately, for me, there's a reference to drinking in the song. Oops. The kids picked up on it and started chanting the Russian word "Alkagolik." I told them that, at the very least, they should say it correctly. Rookie error. Once the class started chanting "Alcoholic" correctly, the director of the school walked in. Come to think of it, I am now sure that went directly to the authorities in Moscow.

After remembering these incidents, I was racked with tremendous guilt. Had I single-handedly brought down the Peace Corps in Russia? I turned to the only friend I could, Google, and found the following quote from a 2002 CNN report on Peace Corps' exit. 

"Among them are persons who were collecting information on the social, political and economic situation in Russian regions, on officials of governmental bodies and departments, on the course of elections and so on," FSB head Nikolai Patrushev told reporters earlier this month.

My blood ran cold, and two immediate examples came to mind.

5) Once the Peace Corps asked me to do a cost of living survey. I went to the expensive market and noted the price of potatoes. I was hoping giving the inflated price would result in a raise. It did not. The Peace Corps was kicked out instead. If only I had known the true value of a kilogram of potatoes to the American government...

6) The spring of 2002 was election time, and it was especially interesting given the fact that the previous U.S. Presidential election had been such a fiasco. So maybe it was with the idea that we Americans could learn something that I paid attention. I had heard that the local communist party was promising every old person in my city a new car if they were to get in power. My Russian was better, and although I couldn't understand the news, I could read basic stuff like the election posters hanging every street pole.  I took one to show Americans how the communist party promised old people cars to get elected. Unfortunately, the poster says nothing of the sort, just stuff like "free travel for school kids" and "clean roads." The ruse did not work for the communists. They were not elected, and now the poster sits in the most subversive of spots- in a dusty box of souvenirs up in a storage closet. I hope the NSA doesn't read this and raid my house. I would understand, though, given the blow this must be to American-Russian relations.

I don't know why it took me 12 years to connect the dots. It's all quite a shame because I really loved my time in Russia and the people I met.  It is a compelling country, with a compelling history. As Winston Churchill once noted, Russia is an enigma wrapped in a mystery covered with confusion and encircled by absurdity served with a pickle. Maybe I've gotten that wrong, but that just proves my point;clearly, I was the wrong choice to be connected with carrying out intelligence-subversive activities.

An end to politics

It was the 70^th anniversary of D-day, and I was sweating away on the elliptical machine at my local gym. Above my head, FOXnews blared its seizure inducing graphics and closed captioning informed me of all I needed to know about the VA.  Two TVs to the left, CNN was still searching for the Malaysian plane clearly hijacked by Zombies. I just kept wondering why D-Day was relegated to the ticker tape at the bottom of the screen.

Then less than week later, a mass shooting in my own city by two assholes who hate the government and decided to murder two cops on their lunch break.

For a few years now, I've ignored politics and political discussion. This is not the person whom I thought I would be. I always considered myself informed and opinionated, but all that seems to result from that is frustration and anger and eventually someone going on a shooting rampage.

I still consider  myself informed, but it is harder and harder to sift through the news to find real information. It is no longer possible, if it ever really was possible, to find plain information with which I can have a civil discussion and from which I can form my opinion.

We choose our news source based on the ideology we identify with: liberal, conservative, tea party, occupier, Belieber, etc. We tune in, and they tell us, as a member of their tribe, how we should view a situation.

The situation is the situation.  There are facts to a situation. Who did what at when and where. The Whys get a little sketchier, but where the news oversteps its boundaries is in the "what now" area. I have no idea what the solution to Putin in the Crimea is. I hope to god someone in a higher pay grade who has spent years studying the geo-politics in the area is working hard on the issue.  I don't care if that person voted for Obama or is a member of the Tea Party or both, as long as they are doing their damn job.  I certainly don't think someone who just learned to pronounce Ukraine and locate it vaguely in Eastern Europe is the person to tell me how we should or shouldn't respond.

I don't know if banning all guns above the water-variety is the solution to mass shootings.  I am tired of people, friends included, taking every instance and rather than treating it in context, using it as propaganda for their side.  Crazies will be crazy. Rightist anti-government extremists will be crazy. The issue, as I see it, is that we see guns as a solution to every problem, even the ones we create in our heads. That jerk took the last box of Cheerios off the shelf; clearly, he deserves to die in a hail of bullets. If we take away the guns, will the crazies stop making up, exaggerating, and generally making mountains of molehills better resolved through discussion?

Nah, not as long as we continue to choose politically inflexible identities, tune into our own tribe's propaganda, and refuse to acknowledge that both sides have legitimate concerns and points.  I may not agree with someone, but that doesn't mean they don't have a right to be heard and considered and even judged correct.

After this, I am going to shower and go vote. Voting by an informed public is a cornerstone of democracy. Unfortunately, I no longer trust the sources of information (aside from the voices in my head ((dear NSA, that was a joke))), and any more I just don't know. The worst is I am moving from "I don't know" to "I don't care" because I can no longer stomach any side.

Planet Earth is blue and there's nothing left to do...

This is the coolest thing I've seen in a long time. In fact, I'm a little obsessed.

Allow me to digress.

I was driving to work this morning, thinking it all felt a bit like groundhog day. I idled at a stop light when the thought occurred to me, "What would happen if I turned right, got on the freeway, and drove to LA?"

I wouldn't. I never could, but then it struck me that Space Oddity had been playing in my head for at least 24 hours. I was, in my own way, attempting to "Major Tom" myself and hurl my tin can south on I-15 towards something at once familiar and unknown, but at the very least inspiring.

Instead, I just followed the same road, to the same parking space, to the same building, down the same hall, to the same room.

Maybe I need a vacation to space, or maybe, I just really need to vary my route to work.

Well, well, well

Look who's back. So, like, a year ago, I wrote a post. I re-read it, and again, realized, I'd probably not truly left whatever postpartum funk that seemed to have roosted in me. A friend of mine says "no one likes to be around crazy," and neither do I, especially when it's myself. It took me giving an assignment to myself for no other reason but to make me write to realize, my gawd girl, just do it already! So like the Phoenix from the ashes, or perhaps Lazarus ascending, or Sisophys pushing that boulder, or Gregor Samsa awaking to find himself a cockroach, here it is. The Shannonosphere rides again. My essay assignment is to define what a good student is. I'm following my students' assignments. I'll write it with them tomorrow in class, and post it here. Hell, I'll even post a rubric and let you grade me, but I'll have you know in advance that my subordination will be outstanding.

существование

существование This is our word of the week. Let's repeat. существование For those of you unfamiliar with Russian, let's sound it out. Su-shest-vo-VAN-e-ye, and it means, simply "existence." I learn a lot from my students, and this week, a Russian student of mine commented "This isn't a life, this is существование." I try, in teaching, to never let my cynicism take over. I try not to throw up my hands and let the darker sides of me run rampant, but at that moment, when I had stopped teaching, and started trying to just make this student smile, his words struck me. Not because I feel so sorry for him, or that I wanted to, in that peppy, American, just-do-it spirit, correct his soulful, Russian default, but because so many times I'm attacked by the same malaise. Who knows who is reading this? Perhaps a friend. Perhaps family. Perhaps a future or current employer who will somehow hold me to account for these words. The point is, when I write, I feel that veil of существование lift, and the beauty of life enter. I stopped blogging because I didn't like the negativity consuming me, and I didn't want it to poison my words. I see now, though, that writing is the antidote to such emotions. I miss it. I miss it dearly. I will most likely abandon this blog and start a new one unconnected to my identity so that I can express myself more honestly. If you would like to come along, let me know.

Support

It's now been over 13 weeks since Veronica was born. It seems like these 13 weeks have simultaneously lasted forever and flown by. So much has happened. So much has changed.

As I reflect upon my pregnancy and the past three months, the one thing I'm grateful for has been support. Support from my husband, from my family, from friends, and from my students. It is now clear to me that bringing life into this world is quite a group effort. Sure, I could have done it without the support, but it would have been downright miserable.

I don't see how a woman could do this truly alone. Those first weeks with Veronica I was so grateful that my mother-in-law lived so close and my husband was there at 3am to take her for an hour so I could get some sleep. I was thankful for the many people who contacted me via facebook. Friends whom I haven't seen in years sent me private messages offering advice and sympathy. There were messages asking me how I was doing, asking how breastfeeding was going, and reminding me to leave the house. People stopped by with dinner. Friends emailed asking if they could come over (sometimes they couldn't).

Some of the most supportive were from friends who had also had children. They'd lived through it too, and I'm so very appreciative that they reached out to me.

(Facebook made it so much easier- a special thank you to Mark Zuckerberg.)

I never really understood before and therefore, probably wasn't as good a friend as I could've been to others who had babies. So, to all of my friends who may have felt I was distant or not supportive- I'm sorry. I was just ignorant.

The message everyone reiterated was that it really would get better. The baby would sleep more and regularly. She wouldn't need to eat every 2 hours. I would leave the house. I would no longer be stuck on the couch at the mercy of whatever crap was on tv at 2am (Holly's World and some Kardashian Krap if you're interested) Those thankfully few weeks of "why the heck is she crying so much?" would end.

And despite shingles and chicken pox, it has gotten much better. Maybe it's because I'm getting more than 3 hours of sleep in a 24 hour period and maybe it's because I can eat a meal? It could also be because I wake to find a little girl smiling and cooing at the ceiling fan and she now hugs me a little bit when we go to change a diaper early in the morning and she talks to the purple hippo hanging from her bouncy chair.

For whatever reason, I'm so glad everyone was right.