*OD and I attend public meeting on the school renovation controversy, and said event winds up clocking a good 3 1/2 hours-plus. But OD insists upon staying to the very end, through the rhetoric, posturing, vindictiveness and, yes, occasional rational comments -- which she, along with a few other student colleagues, contributed. Afterwards, she sprints down to the front of the auditorium to give encouragement to the mayor. Guess LW and I must've passed along some activist genes somewhere.
*I don't mean to make it seem as if YD, meanwhile, has no bearing upon my life and times. Fact is, we talk, play-act, joke around most every day, and I'm even lending somewhat more of a hand in her schoolwork than before. No sibling rivalry for Dad's affection or attention warranted here, certainly.
*So, into November we go, and the elections -- and, along with more than a few other people (on points all along the political spectrum, by the by), I can't help but wonder if the conclusion of the ballot counts will segue, quickly, into a muster roll and prepare-arms.
Oct. 26-27
*Dreary, drenched Saturday is enlivened by a potluck which OD and I attend, along with several other folkie families. The parents take over the kitchen, where we reminisce, complain, laugh, commiserate, etc., while the kids do much the same in their dining room. Afterwards, OD and some of the families go for a night of English country dancing, with which I am largely unfamiliar (except for the occasional go at "Prince William"). Rather too restrained for my liking, I guess; couldn't see doing a whole evening of it, anyway, but as a change of pace at a contra I wouldn't mind.
*A bright, pleasant Sunday follows, during which OD and I drive -- to the accompaniment of Tom Lehrer, her new performer of choice -- to Cambridge and buy a (slightly) used platform bed from a young Italian couple straight out of some urban fashion magazine. Later, for the second Sunday in a row I'm able to play at the O'Hanlon's session, at which I get to do offered "Green Shores of Fogo."
*A Halloween costume I hope and trust will not appear at our doorstep.
Oct. 25
*Oh, splendid. We learned this week that a school renovation project is going to be far more involved (and costly) than was previously thought, and will thus severely affect both OD and YD -- might well entail transport to a far-flung district, hell, even another town. A reprise of home-schooling's beginning to sound more than a little reasonable. But then, if Los Administratos can come up with a decent, half-way innovative plan (specialized programs at selected sites, fer instance?), then maybe this place will really have earned its rep.
*Book completed: "Ahab's Wife," by Sena Jeter Naslund -- Not the first time a famous story is retold from the point of view of a different character, but Naslund takes the idea much farther: developing a fully realized history for the character, one that long precedes and outlasts the events of the original story, in this case Moby Dick. So we come to know, in great detail, Una Spenser, who is essentially widowed by Ahab's notorious obsession well before that big leviathan finishes the job. Una, as imagined by Naslund, has already had a pretty full life before she settles into Nantucket domesticity. Ostracized at an early age from her dark, pious father, she is sent to live with her loving aunt, uncle and young cousin at a lighthouse, where she develops both a unique spirituality and an over-arching attachment to the sea that will, in time, bring her love and a brush with death. Una encounters rebellious slaves and eccentric authors, lost souls and loving neighbors -- and a most unique bounty hunter. But it loses something after Naslund's narrative finishes paralleling Melville's, partly because there's not so much a climax as an accumulation of events.
Oct. 24
OK, what's going on here? OD is not only contra-dancing about every third or fourth day, she's listening to Carole King and James Taylor songs -- trying to learn them on guitar, for heaven's sake -- and she's singing snippets from the repertoire of Tom Lehrer. Surely, this is the prelude to a catastrophic teenage rebellion of Armageddon-like proportions?
Oct. 18-20
*Funny how a teenage child's busy social life makes the parent's schedule seem almost as full. So, Friday night, I give about a 20-minute performance at the college's "Acoustic Night" coffeehouse. Yeah, I had the sore-thumb category well in hand, not only because I was at least twice as old as the other performers, but also as the sole presenter of British Isles traditional music. Song-wise, I offered "Jackson and Atkinson" and "Slip Jigs and Reels," tossing in medleys of morris and piping tunes. Seemed to go over well. Others offered up contemporary covers, familiar oldies (one feller did a couple of Beatles standards, as well as "Leaving On a Jet Plane," "Brown-Eyed Girl" and even "Volare"; a young lady rendered a very pleasant version of "Wild Horses") and their own material, some of which was not bad at all -- at the very least, heartfelt.
*Would've liked to stay and hear more, but I am compelled to dash out to pick up OD at a contra in Lexington, where she is happily engaged in dancing and conversation with friends and acquaintances from her morris teams. As we drive back, she remarks on how "loved" she feels, not only by her fellow "folkies" and school chums, but also by the kids she's come to know from other activities. Lovely to hear, of course. Also made me wonder what qualities these friends see, and appreciate, in her, and do these differ from what her mother and I love about her? Obviously, the dynamics between parent and child cannot be identical as those between child and peers, but surely there are some common threads.
*Saturday, I christen our new leaf vacuum, which actually proves to be a fulfilling experience, oh dear. I have to interrupt my viewing of the first game of what looks to be a most entertaining World Series to, once again, chauffeur OD from a gathering of school friends. A featured activity at this shin-dig was a screening of "Animal House," which left OD largely unimpressed. Seems to confirm my belief that gender is a strong predictor of one's like or dislike of the film.
*Sunday, I make my now-regular appearance at the O'Hanlon's session, which this day is actually more a casual performance given by fiddler Laura Cortese and guitarist Ted Davis. Have to say, it can be difficult -- even with the most accommodating folks -- to sit in cold with people who already have a long-standing rapport, and repertoire. But they were very amiable, we had fun (and I got in lots of bodhran work), and we seemed to give a good account of ourselves. Stopped off in Concord, where OD was attending, yes, another contra -- and ran into old college friend and occasional musical collaborator, off to her first dance in years, she said.
Oct. 17
Another enjoyable sampling of another morris tradition (Ducklington) at Red Herring practice. There's something to be said for specialization, I suppose, but I rather like the diversity.
Oct. 15
*Buzzphrase watch: Hosts at a local sports-oriented radio station like to say "How's that working out for you?," a sarcastically-tinged way of telling someone they made a bad decision. There's a secondary usage as well: If someone had forecast success, failure or mediocrity for another person, and a discussion ensues on the individual's current state of affairs as compared to the incorrect prediction, one can say to the would-be prophet, "How's that working out for [him/her]?"
*Recent musical acquisition: They Might Be Giants, "Then" -- Two-disc compilation of some earlier, previously unreleased or reconstituted TMBG stuff. Listening to both discs in one sitting might be a bit much, unless one is a dedicated TMBGer, but their highly developed cleverness and absurdity are both on display. Listening to lyrics like "He wants a shoehorn/the kind with teeth/people should get beat up/for statin' their beliefs" with a bouncy sax accompaniment has to be considered almost therapeutic. Or hearing rhymes like "They've overcome their shyness/now they're calling me 'Your Highness.'" Or the earnestness with which a phrase like "Put your hand in the puppethead" is sung. One of the highlights comes at the very end: a group of young elementary school children singing "Particle Man."
Oct. 11-14
*Ahh. Long weekend, sorely needed by all. Friday night, OD celebrates by going off with a friend to a contra dance wayyy out in the Western 'Burbs, which seems to be a good time. YD heads out to the first of two weekend overnights. LW contemplates local real estate market. I play music.
*After having locks trimmed, and after schlepping kids to several errands, I spend Saturday evening with some music-and-dance acquaintances, two of whom recently returned from an eventful excursion to Greece. The main activity of the evening is whiskey-tasting, from which I reluctantly but steadfastly refrain, being the Responsible Grown-Up I am. But we do eventually fall to some singing, and I depart hopeful that perhaps I can stay longer at such future gatherings (and perhaps sample the wares).
*Sunday is another mad social whirl, in which OD and I attend a post-bat mitzvah reception for one of her fellow morris dancers. As she basks in the loving collegiality, I talk with several other music/dance-inclined parents, and we agree that social occasions such as this -- i.e., adults singing, kids hobnobbing -- should be a regular occurrence. That evening, I drop in for the O'Leary's Pub session, where a student I recognize from my Place of Employment also is playing, and this makes the time all the more pleasant. I even manage to contribute a rendition of newly-arranged "Green Mossy Banks of the Lea."
*Columbus Day is fairly restful, punctuated with minor yard work and a trip with OD to Home Depot -- an activity which, sadly, can be risky in the Washington, DC, area these days.
Oct. 10
Dad. He would've been 70.
Oct. 5-6
*So now, Carole King's "Tapestry" is the CD of choice, and we hear the sound of a delicate teenage voice essaying "So Far Away."
*Viewing: "Three Kings" -- A movie which, frankly, I wasn't prepared to like much; just goes to show you -- again -- the inadequacy of 30-second commercial TV trailers. There's a certain fable-ish quality to this splendidly erratic depiction of heroism and compassion born, however grudgingly, of avarice, nihilism and good ole greed. Its strength is in watching George Clooney, Ice Cube and Mark Wahlberg, as American soldiers who head off on an unauthorized search for Kuwaiti gold during the Gulf War cease-fire, begin to grasp, but cannot fully understand, the complexity of the sociopolitical situation they're hoping to somehow skirt. Credit to director/writer David Russell and co-writer John Ridley for making the Iraqis in the story something more than just plot devices: Cliff Curtis, as the ad hoc leader of a group of anti-Hussein rebels, offers a fine combination of dignity, determination and desperation.
*Book completed: "The Guns of August," by Barbara Tuchman -- Unfortunately, I don't know enough about 20th-century non-fiction trends to truly place this work in context, but my sense is that, coming in 1962, it probably set at least some of the conventional wisdom on the metaphorical ear with a thorough and damning account of the political and military breakdowns leading up to, and during the first month of, the Great War. Not a lot of glory to be found here, frankly, and certainly not among much of what passed for leadership. Yet it's not unremittingly depressive stuff. Tuchman's account of the much-overlooked Goeben incident, for example, which she cites as a key milestone in, among other things, the development of the Soviet Union and the Middle East. But then there's the little touches, like the references to the weeping of Winston Churchill, Grand Duke Nicholas and others: "There was an aura about 1914 that caused those who sensed it to shiver for mankind." Or her retelling of the great pre-urban legend about the Russian soldiers being transported through Britain. Or a contemporary's description of haughty and hot-headed Sir John French: "He is a nice little man in his bath but when he puts his clothes on you can't trust him..."
Oct. 4
*Cloudy, cool (upper 50s) and breezy today. Hello autumn.
*Fun time at Red Herring practice last night, taking time off from our usual repertoire to go through some general favorites, notably "Vandals of Hammerwich" and "Ring O'Bells."
*Recent musical acquisitions:
==Malicorne, "Legende"--Obviously tempting, but quite insufficient to describe Malicorne as a Francophone Steeleye Span or Fairport Convention. Yeah, they did indeed marry their country's traditional folk music forms to contemporary instruments and arrangements, but they were able to achieve a most distinctive sound, as this compilation album shows. There are gorgeous vocal arrangements, notably in the a capella "Le Prince D'Orange" and "La Mule," and judicious use of medieval instruments ("Compagnons Qui Roulez En Provence"); one of their best, however, has to be "La Dance Des Dames," marked by back-and-forth transitions from semi-ominous chant-like close harmony vocals to an exuberant fiddle break. Another track aptly demonstrates the individual influences of their chief vocalists, Gabriel and Marie Yacoub: On "La Nuit Des Sorcieres," Marie's sultry yet ethereal reading merges into Gabriel's low-tenor rendition of "The Lyke-Wake Dirge."
==Fairport Convention, "XXXV"--Fairport wisely realized a long time ago that it's evolved into An Institution, and not unreasonably offers two tracks ("Banks of the Sweet Primroses" and "Now Be Thankful") that serve as a tribute to its earlier, and frankly more celebrated incarnations, though it should be noted that current members Simon Nicol and Dave Pegg were part of those original versions. But there's certainly plenty to like about their recent material here, such as the romantic yet rocking "Madeline," the plaintive "My Love Is In America" and a modern (and all too topical) take on "The Deserter" by John Richards. The highlight, musically and thematically, is "The Crowd," a paean to the fellowship inspired by their annual Cropredy concerts. It's delivered via a lovely duet by Nicol and the song's composer, annA rydeR (sic) -- after so many years of evolving into a "guy's band," the presence of a female voice seems to re-energize them.
==Oysterband, "Alive and Acoustic" -- The title pretty much explains it all. Most of what's on here has been done before, but the "unplugged" setting offers new appreciation for the likes of "Voices," "This Year, Next Year," "Native Son" and "Moving On" (but I have to say the "Wide Blue Yonder" version of "The Oxford Girl" has yet to be surpassed). And John Jones' bloody-well-British vocals, confident yet also tender when required, sound as good as ever.
*Here's a words'n pitchers account of the Sept. 21 Harvest Tour.
*New addition (and a deletion) to The Dumb, Stupid Baseball Hat Page.
*OD goes to her first rock concert, although certainly nothing like the ones I went to when I was around her age: In London as a 13-year-old, riding the Underground to Hyde Park to watch Grand Funk Railroad, the Peter Frampton-era Humble Pie and Head Hands & Feet; or, two years later, preparing to go with a classmate by train to NYC and catch Jethro Tull at Madison Square Garden -- and then making the trip myself when his mother chickened out. Uh, not that I'm going to broadcast any of these reminiscences where she can hear 'em.
*Made my (more-or-less) monthly visit to the O'Hanlon's session. One of the musicians was a pleasant young lady who performs with an intriguing-sounding ensemble named Footworks, and not so incidentally, happens to be purty damn good on the bow, too. Some great fiddle duets this night, including a few lovely old-timey pieces. I pass the interval chatting about kids and domestic stuff with some of the "older" regulars; sigh, I am so not young anymore.
*Viewing: "The Mothman Prophecies" -- Richard Gere portrays a widowed newspaper reporter who investigates strange happenings in a West Virginia town, phenomena that seem connected to his wife's death -- and all apparently revolving around a mysterious "moth-like" man. It's undeniably atmospheric and certifiably creepy, and Gere's evolving relationship with local sheriff Laura Linney (who may be the cutest-ever small-town law enforcement official) feels genuine and multi-layered. But with the film announcing at the outset that it's "based on actual events," ultimately you wonder how much of your belief you're therefore supposed to suspend (unless you do a bit of research into the whole matter, of course -- which I haven't).
Sept. 25
*Cognitive development research note of the week: Congressman Richard Armey apparently believes that conservatives choose vocations "of the brain," i.e., the natural sciences, engineering and economics, while liberals opt for those "of the heart," namely the arts. Great scientific method there, Dick. Should we expect a revival of phrenology, too?
*Admit it. All these years, you scoffed at the clause for the Miss Universe beauty pageant stating that the runner-up would assume the title if the winner was unable to perform the responsibilities and functions that came with the job. OK, maybe you scoffed at other things about the pageant, too. Well, scoff no more!
(Reuters) "The Miss Universe pageant said it 'terminated' reigning winner Oxana Fedorova, and passed the title to first runner-up Justine Pasek of Panama because Fedorova cost them money by not attending events, photo-shoots and other duties of her job.
"But Fedorova, the first Russian woman to hold the title in the pageant's 52-year history, and the first to lose her crown, said her career and studies were more important."
And people wonder why they lost the Cold War. By the way, I love that the Miss Universe pageant has adopted quasi-military lingo in announcing its administrative decisions.
*A hunka-hunka deeply spiritual Canadian love: More here (At least for a while).
*Finally, well after the fact, I have posted this In case you're wondering what you might be getting yourself into, you can check the Aug. 20 D&Q entry. Or not.
Sept. 21
OD and I pack off to the annual Harvest Tour, organized chiefly by Ha'Penny Morris and this year featuring Newtowne Morris Men, Rose Galliard, the Gay Blades and Still River Sword, as well as, of course, my own Red Herring Morris.
Unlike most other years, when the touring was largely confined to sites in and around the town (not university) of Harvard, Mass., this time the itinerary took us -- literally -- farther afield. Also, instead of teams touring together throughout the day, we split into two groups for the morning, which included the "traditional" first stop, Westward
Orchards Farm Stand. There, we were rewarded for our efforts with a box of the orchard's wares (sorry, didn't catch which kind they were, though I'm guessing McIntoshes or rather early Empires).
The other stop of the morning tour was the Nashoba Valley Winery in Notlob, er sorry, Bolton. Some years ago, Nashoba Valley used to be the site of an early spring festival to celebrate the budding of the trees in the orchard; several morris teams used to perform there, and each member was offered a voucher toward the purchase of a bottle of wine.
So while this year's event took us to a different part of the
winery than the earlier fest, it was nice to be back -- even if the wine coupon deal was no longer in effect. The venue -- adjacent to the winery shop and its immense picnic area --
included a small gazebo, which Rose Galliard and Gay Blades found very much to their liking. Red Herring opted for the grass in front of the gazebo, which was quite a transition from the asphalt parking lot at Westward. But the view from where we were, up on a hill overlooking the orchard and the town of Bolton in the distance, was lovely.
After a picnic lunch, all teams converged on the Higgins Armory Museum in Worcester, almost 20 miles further west. Higgins has thousands of displays of arms and armor, but also holds cultural events with a Renaissance theme and other kinds of festivities -- in this case, they were sponsoring a Festival of Ale, and invited several independently owned and operated Massachusetts breweries to set up shop, offer samples, distribute bumper stickers, and so on. The climax of the museum stop, and the tour itself, came when we did
BGFG for AWW, and capered around the display cases while one of the museum staff looked on with a mixture of delight and trepidation. But no, no medieval artifacts were harmed in the making of this tour.
We passed the remainder of the day and part of the evening at a dinner party kindly hosted by one of "the Hapes." A most pleasing way to ring in the beginning of another morris season.(Hope to have some pictures available soon.)
Sept. 20
*Book completed: "A Trick of Nature" by Suzanne Matson -- Very promising start, in which comfortably married-with-children Portland teacher/football coach, the somewhat ironically named Greg Goodman, sees his friendships, career, marriage, family life -- and perhaps his very self-image -- undergo drastic changes in, literally, a flash of lightning; a one-in-a-million accident that slightly injures Greg and sends one of his players into a coma. Matson cleverly juxtaposes the personal and familial transitions Greg and his wife experience as their old world crumbles, and their new one presents exciting, and dangerous, opportunities. Eleanor Roosevelt's comment on her own marriage never rang so true as here: "Back of tranquility always lies conquered unhappiness." But towards the end, Matson piles on far too much melodrama, instead of trusting the story she had in motion.
*Recent musical acquisition: La Bottine Souriante, "Cordial" -- More good fun from this ensemble that marries traditional French-Canadian tunes, songs and instrumentation to a brass and rhythm section. Some more experimentation here, with Middle Eastern, salsa and reggae flavoring on a few tracks, and a so-crazy-it-works climax: a montage of samples and loops from elsewhere on the album -- everything from bubbling bassy vocals to swirling fiddle -- that could be classified as unplugged technofolk. Still, what works is that for every innovation, the group also offers up a good, straight-ahead set appropriate for any Acadian kitchen.
Sept. 12-15
*Lest I forget, both my morris team and OD's are back in swing. Having relinquished or reduced my administrative duties with both, it's a bit of an adjustment -- but one I'm happy to make.
*Another Sunday session at O'Hanlon's , which present somewhat different dynamics what with the upcoming move abroad of wunderkind guitarist Brian Hanlon -- who, it must be said, is well-served in amiability as well as musical talent.
Sept. 11
*The college held a memorial service at noon, during which student lectors offered prayers from the Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish and Muslim traditions. About 15 or 20 yards from where I was standing, a young woman fainted in the crowd, hitting her head on the pavement (she was apparently uninjured); police/EMTs comforted her until the ambulance came, its engine and warning beeper drowning out the oratory. Somehow, it all seemed to dovetail: Even as we collectively reflected on the moral, faith and spiritual questions prompted by this day's events last year, we saw again the presence those in the public safety profession have in our lives.
Later that day, a very stiff wind picked up, and along with the heat and humidity, it seemed as much to be clearing away the accumulated grief and sadness that had been building in the previous days and weeks. On my way home, I passed a couple of grade-schoolers I've encountered occasionally, and remarked on all the branches and tree limbs that had been scattered on the ground by the wind. One of the kids pointed and declared, "See the tree there? That's gonna come down any minute -- and I know 'cause when I was holding on to it I could feel it shaking all over the place!"
*Goodbye, Johnny Unitas, one of my childhood heroes. Having become a Baltimore Colts fan in the '60s under rather tenuous circumstances, I couldn't help but idolize him. In my life, I have sent fan letters to only two football players. One was Johnny U. The other was Frank Gifford (OK, he was out of football by then). From Johnny U. I got two 8x10 glossies of him in those dramatic poses football players used to strike
for photos used in game programs and magazines. From Frank Gifford -- to whom I had suggested that, maybe, sometime he
could show me around the radio station where he worked -- I got a letter thanking me for the crayon action portrait of him I'd drawn and included in my mailing, and tendering his regrets that he "wasn't allowed" to bring guests into his place of employment. I most definitely preferred what Johnny U. had sent me, even though in my heart I suppose I knew it had reallybeen the work of the Colts public relations office. And years later, my vengeance would be visited upon Frank Gifford in the supple form of Kathie Lee.
Sept. 6-10
*Hey, welcome to the United Nations, Switzerland! Here's your list of handy phone numbers and half-price coupons for use in the staff canteen!
*A conflict the UN will likely not be mediating.
*Viewing: "A Beautiful Mind" -- Criticism of the accuracy in this sort-of biographical account of mathematician John Nash hereby noted. On its own terms, Russell Crowe's depiction of Nash's struggle to separate his incredible talents for discerning mathematical patterns and formulas in, well, everything -- the diagrams he draws on windows are his version of stained-glass art -- from the paranoid delusions also coursing through his mind is certainly compelling. Jennifer Connolly, as his student turned wife, is gorgeous, sexy and seems just about as intelligent as he is. But ultimately she is forced to play the part of healer (as well as wife and mother), and while Connolly's despair and faith are believable, it's rather unfortunate to see her earlier incarnation fade from view. Wisely, director Ken Howard puts us in Connolly's place to show the full extent of Nash's madness.
Program note
Archives have been restored as far back as the beginning of this year.
Aug. 30-Sept. 5
*August ends, largely in lethargy. Of course, with the start of the academic year, and the newspaper's regular publication schedule, once more I live in a two-week production cycle. September, meanwhile, begins with YD moving back into the kids' room, still beset by our unfinished renovations from a year ago [yes, yes, I'll get the archives up again soon so you can be enlightened]. So, once again, LW and I have our front room/study/music chamber, and damn if it doesn't feel good.
*The Foist of Septembeler also includes another visit to the session at O'Leary's Pub, at which -- owing to the presence of a guitar-playing acquaintance -- I stick to bouzouki and bodhran, which is by no means a bad thing.
*Me Mum pays a visit to my Place of Employment, for lunch and conversation. As a veteran NGO administrator, she was recently asked to speak at a fundraiser for a group seeking to send prefabricated houses to Afghani families. Fine and good, she says, but let's look at this: You're raising money that will, ultimately, go to whichever American firm manufactures the product, and then you have to pay to ship the stuff. Why not pay an Afghani supplier, or hell, even a local bricklayer to rebuild the homes?
*Apropos of which, I watched a PBS Frontline special, "Faith and Doubt at Ground Zero," which in all likelihood will be the sole 9/11-one-year-later program I watch. The first part is difficult to watch, as it contains video and still images of people jumping from the World Trade Center. But the rewards thereafter are considerable: very thoughtful, occasionally provocative commentary on the presence (or lack thereof) of God and Evil on that day. Highlights:
==A Pakistani(?) couple whose daughter and son-in-law were both killed in the towers, describing their conversations with Allah as to what his will would be. After a year in which we all too often heard of "Allah" used in a violent or hateful context, how different to hear it as an expression of faith, love and grief.
==A Lutheran minister who participated in the interfaith service at Yankee Stadium later that fall, telling of the bigotry and intolerance he heard from his own fellow clergy because -- in their words -- he had dared suggest that all religions are equal. "If this is what's behind religion," he said, "I've got a lot to wrestle with."
==An Orthodox rabbi decries attempts to soft-pedal or minimize the aggression or violence flaring in Islam. No denying it's there, he says, but goes on to point out that the efforts of many others to counter the violence and repression is a part of the religion, too -- and I know this, he says, "because it's part of my religion, too."
==A Conservative rabbi constructs a prayer, using transcripts from phone conversations made to loved ones and family members by passengers aboard the doomed airplanes.
*Viewing: "Cheaters" -- Well-done reconstruction of cheating scandal at an academic decathalon by students from an inner-city Chicago school, with far less resources than their competitors. Jeff Bridges, as the teacher who consents to and abets the cheating, grows into the role as the film goes on; the bitterness he reveals as the scandal breaks makes him out to be far more than a squishy-headed enabler. While the film doesn't exactly excuse the students for their fraud, it does raise some reasonable questions about the exploitation of education as a mere merit badge than as a vehicle for meaningful change.
