The SOUTH ORANGE COUNTY COMMUNITY COLLEGE DISTRICT — "[The] blog he developed was something that made the district better." - Tim Jemal, SOCCCD BoT President, 7/24/23
Wednesday, February 1, 2023
Sunday, January 29, 2023
Massive news media failure uncovered by Matt Taibbi
Move Over, Jayson Blair: Meet Hamilton 68, the New King of Media Fraud (Racket News)
The Twitter Files reveal that one of the most common news sources of the Trump era [Hamilton 68] was a scam, making ordinary American political conversations look like Russian spywork
Matt Taibbi
…If one goes by volume alone, this oft-cited neoliberal think-tank that spawned hundreds of fraudulent headlines and TV news segments may go down as the single greatest case of media fabulism in American history. Virtually every major news organization in America is implicated, including NBC, CBS, ABC, PBS, CNN, MSNBC, The New York Times and the Washington Post. Mother Jones alone did at least 14 stories pegged to the group’s “research.” Even fact-checking sites like Politifact and Snopes cited Hamilton 68 as a source….
. . .
The Hamilton 68 story shows how the illusion of ongoing “Russian interference” worked. The magic trick was generated via a confluence of interests, between think-tanks, media, and government. Before, we could only speculate. Now we know: the “Russian threat” was, in this case at least, just a bunch of ordinary Americans, dressed up to look like a Red Menace. Jayson Blair had a hell of an imagination, but even he couldn’t have come up with a scheme this obscene. Shame on every news outlet that hasn’t renounced these tales....
Taibbi on education and the Democratic Party:
Monday, January 9, 2023
Learning outcomes: Going along with useless, baseless bullshit, wasting time and money, with no end in sight
By Gayle Greene
The Terrible Tedium of “Learning Outcomes”Accreditors’ box-checking and baroque language have taken over the university.
Every six years, the accountability police swoop down on my campus in the form of WASC, the Western Association of Schools and Colleges. The West Coast accreditation organization comes to Scripps, as it comes to all colleges in our region, to do our reaccreditation. The process used to take a couple of months, generating a flurry of meetings, self-studies, reports to demonstrate we’re measuring up. We’d write a WASC report — “wasp,” we called it, for the way it buzzed around making a pest of itself.
The WASC committee would come to campus, stirring up much hoopla and more meetings. They’d write up a report on our report, and after their visit, we’d write a report responding to their report on our report; the reports would be circulated, and more meetings would take place. Then it was over, and we could get back to work. It’s fairly pro forma with us; Scripps College runs a tight ship.
At least that’s how it used to be, just one of those annoying things to be got through, like taxes. Now that the reaccreditation process has become snarled in proliferating state and federal demands, it’s morphed from a wasp into Godzilla, a much bigger deal — more meetings, reports, interim reports, committees sprouting like mold on a basement wall. WASC demands that we come up with “appropriate student-outcome measures to demonstrate evidence of student learning and success,” then develop tools to monitor our progress and track changes we’ve made in response to the last assessment.
There are pre-WASC preps and post-WASC post mortems, a flurry of further meetings to make sure we’re carrying out assessment plans, updating our progress, and updating those updates. Every professor and administrator is involved, and every course and program is brought into the review. The air is abuzz with words like models and measures, performance metrics, rubrics, assessment standards, accountability, algorithms, benchmarks, and best practices. Hyphenated words have a special pizzazz — value-added, capacity-building, performance-based, high-performance — especially when one of the words is data: data-driven, data-based, benchmarked-data. The air is thick with this polysyllabic pestilence, a high-wire hum like a plague of locusts. Lots of shiny new boilerplate is mandated for syllabi, spelling out the specifics of style and content, and the penalties for infringements, down to the last detail.
. . .
Then the boxes with “comments, results, and summaries” are to be incorporated into an Educational Effectiveness Review Report. “By applying the rubric to last year’s senior theses enables you to evaluate both the rubric and your results to help fine-tune the assessment of this year’s theses.” (That sentence is why some of us still care about dangling participles.) This is all written in a language so abstract and bloodless that it’s hard to believe it came from a human being. But that is the point, phasing out the erring human being and replacing the professor with a system that’s “objective.” It’s lunacy to think you can do this with teaching, or that anyone would want to.
. . .
Do not think I am singling out Scripps College for special criticism. From what I’ve heard, it’s as bad or worse elsewhere. I think most of our faculty see our dean and president as indefatigable women who work for and not against us and genuinely respect the liberal arts. This outcomes-assessment rigmarole has been foisted on all colleges, adding a whole new layer of bureaucratic make-work. Reports and meetings bleed into one another like endless war. Forests die for the paperwork, brain cells die, spirits too — as precious time and energy are sucked into this black hole. And this is to make us more … efficient? Only in an Orwellian universe. This is to establish a “culture of evidence,” we’re told. Evidence of what? Evidence of compliance, I’m afraid.
. . .
Outcomes are “what a student must be able to do at the conclusion of the course,” explains an online source, and in order to assure these, it is best to use verbs that are measurable, that avoid misinterpretation. Verbs like write, recite, identify, sort, solve, build, contract, prioritize, arrange, implement, summarize, estimate are good because they are open to fewer interpretations than verbs like know, understand, appreciate, grasp the significance of, enjoy, comprehend, feel, learn, appreciate. This latter set of verbs is weak because the words are less measurable, more open to interpretation.
. . .
“Academics are grown-up people who do not need the language police to instruct them about what kind of verbs to use,” wrote Frank Furedi in a blistering denunciation of “learning outcomes” in Times Higher Education in 2012. Warning faculty against using words like know, understand, appreciate because “they’re not subject to unambiguous test” is fostering “a climate that inhibits the capacity of students and teachers to deal with uncertainty.” Dealing with ambiguity is one of the most important things the liberal arts can teach.
. . .
We in the humanities try to teach students to think, question, analyze, evaluate, weigh alternatives, tolerate ambiguity. Now we are being forced to cram these complex processes into crude, reductive slots, to wedge learning into narrowly prescribed goal outcomes, to say to our students, “here is the outcome, here is how you demonstrate you’ve attained it, no thought or imagination allowed.”
Find the whole article HERE
* * *
- The Misguided Drive to Measure ‘Learning Outcomes’, NYT, Feb. 23, 2018
- Learning Outcomes Are Corrosive, by Frank Furedi, January 2013
- DISSENT! Contra anti-intellectualism (DtB, April 18, 2015)
- Fall of the house of Beno (DtB, December 10, 2015)
- Part 2: the fall of the house of Beno (obscuring the deeper issue) (DtB, December 23, 2015)
Tuesday, January 3, 2023
The historical John Eastman
Wednesday, December 21, 2022
Remembering the Lockerbie bombing and Liz Marek, 34 years later
Solstice. December 21st. The shortest day of a long year. The longest night. We begin to turn back to the sun today. The days grow longer. 34 years ago, Lockerbie, Scotland, Pan Am 103, Clipper Maid of the Seas. The long memory.
A few days ago, this news:
The U.S. has taken custody of the alleged bomb maker in the 1988 Lockerbie attackFrom 2013:
Rebel Girl is a party girl and even though she does not ascribe to any particular faith, she enjoys this season of celebration with its stories of miracles and lights, pilgrimages and stars shining bright. She likes the solstice best and feels a sense of accomplishment on living through that day, the shortest one of the year. When she was a child learning of such things in a public elementary school classroom, Rebel Girl once imagined she could hear the gentle crack of the earth's axis as it tilted, once more, back toward the sun, toward light.The past 25 years have usually found Rebel Girl and her family hurtling south to Mexico on the Solstice. This year, they will be a little late. But every year on the Solstice, they remember that first year they drove south for the season: 1988. She first wrote about on the blog five years ago.
from December 22, 2008
It was 20 Years Ago Today:
Twenty years ago, Rebel Girl and Red Emma first headed south into Baja, borrowing a friend's car and another friend's travel guide (what friends!). They fell in love with a part of Mexico that many find unlovable (the desert! The Sea of Cortez!) and have returned every year except for this one. This year finds them at home, unnerved by the brutal violence along the border, unwilling to be Americans who drive past other people's tragedies on their way to their own good time.They usually leave on Solstice, the shortest day of the year. Rebel Girl can't remember if that was true for that first trip twenty years ago. She expects it might be. All she knows is that when they left, they knew about the bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland.

So they left on or shortly after December 21, 1988 and returned sometime after the new year, covered in dust and sunburnt. They hadn't followed the news very much, hadn't thought about the bombing except in the way that you do about such events, a distant awareness of someone else's heartbreak. So when they returned and found out that Liz Marek, fellow activist and friend had been on board the flight, there was shock. Liz was an activist of some standing in the LA area, a veteran of the so-called Great Peace March across that country and of many Nevada Test Site actions, a charismatic lead singer in a lesbian rock band and general all-round good person. Liz, working for a non-profit housing agency, had been instrumental in helping Red and Reb and their roommates obtain an apartment after their eviction from their home (long story).
Liz had once complimented Rebel Girl on her design of a banner for a Test Site demonstration even though Rebel Girl now understands that Liz was only being kind. Rebel Girl was on her knees painting it in the sanctuary of the Church in Ocean Park (some church!). Liz had stopped by on her way to a meeting. The banner was wincingly raw and earnest and the memory of it still possesses the power to embarrass Rebel Girl: "The Patriarchy Stops Here," it read, with an angry pregnant woman, her womb filled with a mushroom cloud, pushing back at the lettering.
Rebel Girl still remembers how Liz could belt out her band's version of "Devil in a Blue Dress" (she sang it as "Big Dyke in a Blue Dress"). Back then, she admired the courage, humor and vision of activists like Liz – they had fun at the same time they did good works. She wanted to be like them: gutsy, justice-loving good people.
Liz had been sitting in seat 36 C of the Pan Am flight, traveling with a friend, having got cheap seats for a holiday trip to England. She was 30 years old. The obituaries all identified her as an actress and peace activist.

Later, when Liz's memorial was held at the Church in Ocean Park, Rebel Girl couldn't look into the faces of Liz's family, of her mother; their grief was too stark. She concentrated instead on repairing the cake which had suffered some damage in transit. It was white frosting with blue cursive lettering spelling out Liz's name and some other message Rebel Girl can no longer remember, just as she can no longer remember the witty name of Liz's band.
So, while people gave eulogies and sang songs, told stories and wept, Rebel Girl repaired the sky blue letters, rejoining the links, restoring the integrity of the final loops of the lowercase "k." She smoothed the frosting, white as a cloud.
*
The original post inspired a few comments from other friends of Liz who found it via the web:
Anonymous said...
I was on the great peace march and searched out Liz's name today in memory of her great funny human self. I think [her] band was the Diet Cherry Cokes.
Anonymous said...
I knew Liz on the GPM and deeply appreciated her intelligence, wit and humanity. Thanks for your remembrance of her.
Dear Rebel,
I was at the memorial for Liz at Ocean Park and I visited the Pan Am Memorial in Arlington National Cemetery every year until I left DC in late 1999.
Her family was very kind to me at a time when they were grieving and I'll never forget how gracious they were/are. Especially when I told them about the couple of times I'd be so darned frustrated with knocking on the porta pottie doors and hoping folks would knock back so I could feel the vibration and not accidentally open the door and expose them. When Liz was around and saw me she'd grab my hand and pull me down the line of porta potties and would knock and knock until she found an empty porta potty for me. Her actions saved me a lot of time and she needn't've done it but did because she "got it" that I'm deaf and sometimes a helping hand helps just that much to make one's day a bit brighter. Just for this not so little kindness she's aces in my book.
Just so you know, I was shown kindness by every Marcher while I was on the 9-month walk. This made a huge impact on me. Huge. It still does to this day.
Jules
Peace Marcher
Liz's mother still lives in Brookfield, Connecticut.
Rebel Girl found an article from Tuesday August 29, 1989: "Mother Makes Somber Visit to Lockerbie" which is exactly what its title suggests. The online version of the article features a tiny black and white headshot of Liz; it is not the best photo and the online scan of it fragments it even more but there's something there still in Liz's eyes that Reb likes to see. Her direct gaze. It's Liz all right. The article appeared in the Connecticut newspaper The Day.
Immediately to the right is another article: "Black, white African leaders meet: Kaunda, de Klerk talk in Zambia" and a larger photo of de Klerk, Botha (remember him?) and a skeptical Kaunda who is described as "a relentless critic of apartheid."
*
In 2015, Jonathan K Cohen said…
I sang at the funeral of a college classmate who perished in Pan Am 103. I was pretty numb, but I got through it. It had been arranged by my college, and the mourners thought I was much closer to Andrew than was actually the case, but I was filled with horror. Someone whom I liked and had had conversations with had been blown up and scattered over Scotland. It got to me in a way that not even 9/11 did.
9:29 AM, December 20, 2015
In 2017 Zippy said…
Liz was my babysitter back in brookfield. I have fond memories of the Mareks, their home, and their kids. Liz was sweet and kind to me.
And, finally, Liz's mother Adelaide passed away in 2016 at the age of 86 on October 27, days before the election. Her obituary recommends: "In lieu of flowers, VOTE."
Roy's obituary in LA Times and Register: "we were lucky to have you while we did"
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