Summer...

So summer finally arrived here in the durty south and that means many things...
First off, as many of you know I have an odd masochistic streak in me that demands that I spend time during the summer outside with children. I usually hurt myself in this fashion by working at the local Boy Scout Camp for 6 weeks: bossing around idiot underlings, reading philosophy, writing letters, catching up on the New Yorker and all in all enjoying the sights and smells that awaken those old memories which lie in my genes. To catch the smell of sweet grass or the distant stench of decay. To notice the smell of wild roses or that smell that comes from cold droplets of rain frying on the scorched earth. These reach back into what we can claim to be our primal "essences." Stamped in proteins and passed down before the dawn of the language and concepts we use to describe them. But I puff up and digress.... This is an experience I cherish more than almost any other and it has stood as such a formative one that I cannot imagine my life without it in my passt. Needless to say this year "real life" intruded upon my Rousseau-esque idealizations in the form of that need for health insurance. My employer could not spare me for 5 weeks and quitting is not an option at this point. So I figured out a way to tag along as a volunteer with a group of 14 urban youth who had been collated so as to keep them off "the streets." It should be a requirement for everyone to spend a week in close quarters with a group of people whose background is so different from your own (riding the subway does not count here). It was great times and I will have to elaborate more at a later date. I am getting lost in my own silliness....
Summer also means reading and writing and watching movies that are totally sweet. I have already finished 2 Faulkner novels, Sedaris' most recent (which if you listen to This American Life or read The New Yorker) there is absolutely no reason to buy, and am well in to re-reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince in preparation for the upcoming movie. I saw Star Trek twice (tottally fucking sweet), Terminator: Salvation (which was so terrible I loved it), and this past weekend I saw Transformers 2 (also twice, and if anyone can explain where the Air & Space Museum actually is I would appreciate it. It clearly is not where I thought it was).
More to follow....

Too Long...

So I have been absent again from my blogging duties. I am not sure if duty is the right word but I blame that on being forced to read Kant as a small child.
1) A thought on the nomination of Sotomayor. There Republicans have made a huge stink over whether or not personal experience feeds (or should feed) into how one views the law and how one behaves as a jurist. I find this question laughable. The question is moot and reflect an old ideology and a lack of grasp on the reality of legal decision making. Fact: Personal experience DOES have an impact on how you make legal decisions whether you realize it or not. Tell me this to not be case with Scalia or (gasp) Roberts! This does raise other questions which is worth discussing: What kind of experiences do we want feeding into the decision making process? What kind of variety of life experiences do we want on the court? The first question is about individuals. The second is about the make up of the court as a whole. Jeffrey Toobin wrote a great bit in the New Yorker about how the court has always been decided to reflect some kind of electorate balance. In the beginning we had regional seats. Then we had a catholic seat. Then we had a jewish seat. These were facts of the process of nominations and confirmations. It seems ridiculous now to ignore this and cloak prejudice and partisan hackery in terms of "originalism" or accusing people of "reverse racism" (a phrase I am still not sure I understand). The fact that we try and give seats on the high court to women, african-americans, hispanics and hopefully one day a gay jurist is simply an attempt to get brilliant minds together first and second make sure those minds are a reflection of the America in which we live in and (more importantly I hope) a reflection fo the America we hope to someday find ourselves in. As usual though we are missing a chance to have an honest and open discussion about the American legal system in favour of name calling and buffonery. It will only get worse I promise
2)I am thinking about buying a gun...
3)So I dream about The City. The people are all there as I knew them and this is the best aspect of dreaming in New York. Many of you who waste your time reading this are recurring characters. But the city itself is different. It looks different. It smells different. It even tastes different. Yet, it is still New York. The New York of my dreams looks a lot like london. The streets are narrower the buildings squeezed even closer together and the clastrophobic aesthetic gets into your marrow. Below Canal the city is a lagoon. It looks like Lake Ponchatrain. There is green everywhere, of slime, moss, algae and plants attempting to wiggle out of the ooze. There are above ground subway lines that go no where. There piles covered in the slick green of decay. There are ruined boats and the skeletons of destroyed docks. That New York is one that exists only between the hours of 2-4pm but it is mine and that is where I get to meet you all. At least the Red Head is still there but the beer is free and the lights are even dimmer.